The threats had not disturbed them.
He thought of sending out an emergency beam for help. But what would he say when the ship arrived: put these people under martial1 law—force them to work—it's for their own good? He'd like to see if they could do it, he thought. He'd be betting they couldn't.
He could have all the council members jailed, he thought. Only there weren't any jails on Nemar.
Resentment3 burned in him. They'd let him work and struggle and slave day and night—for this. He swung his fist into the wall suddenly, with all his might. The pain stung, but he felt a little better.
He looked at the bruised4 hand, wondering what to do. He was too restless to go home and stay by himself, burning up with unspent rage; and he certainly couldn't go and sit among the natives, listening to them chatter5 and laugh.
He heard a rustle7 of leaves after he had gone a little way and saw a pair of feminine legs through the underbrush. He tried to turn aside. He didn't feel like talking to Jeannette now.
But she had already seen him. "Hello, there," she said, pushing aside a branch from where she was sitting. "Are you taking a walk, too? Thought you were always sticking to the old grindstone this time of day."
"Hello, Jeannette."
"Sit down and rest for a minute. I need some company."
He hesitated, then sat down reluctantly.
"You don't look too cheerful," she said, looking at him. "Something eating you?"
"Just this place," he said wearily. "And the people."
"Yes, it gets you after a while, doesn't it? It's pretty hard to take."
He leaned against a tree and tried to relax.
"It's hard to live with," she went on, "the constant sense of inferiority...."
He wondered if he had heard her correctly. "What did you say?"
"I said, it's hard to live with."
"No, no. I meant the last part."
"The constant sense of inferiority. Is something the ma—"
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the Nemarians, naturally."
"You surely don't consider them superior to us!" he said incredulously.
"Let's not fool ourselves," she said. "There isn't one of them that isn't superior to every Terran here."
He stared at her.
"Of course, we do fool ourselves. I've been doing it a long time. Or trying to, anyway. But I've been sitting here thinking. Among other things, about why I didn't leave on that ship you came on, as I'd planned."
"Why didn't you?" he asked.
"The same reason nobody else did, but Jerwyn; and he had to."
"Plenty of them don't like it here," he said. "There's plenty of griping."
"Not really," she said. "It's not really griping. It's just a way of making yourself feel better. Only the ones who haven't been here too long do it, and one or two others who are real old-line die-hards, like your Mr. Cortland.
"Why didn't you leave?"
"Because this is a good deal, of course. The climate's lovely; the scenery's beautiful; life is sort of a perpetual pleasure outing. The only trouble is, you're always on the fringes. You're the kid from across the tracks."
"I don't understand."
"That wasn't the right phrase, because that implies snobbishness8, and they're not snobbish9. But they don't quite accept you. They let you hang around; they let you play with them. But you're not really one of them."
"Why on earth should you want to be one of them! They're just a bunch of ignorant primitives10, while we come from the highest center of culture civilization has ever attained11."
"Yes, yes, I know all that. We're very good at pushing buttons and keeping in the right traffic lanes. But let's look the facts in the face. I've been sitting here making myself look the facts in the face. Have you ever seen one of them act mean?"
"Well, not mean exactly, but—"
"No, you haven't. They can get plenty angry, but they don't get mean. There's a difference."
He said nothing.
"Have you ever seen a child here tear the wings off an insect?" She went on, not waiting for his reply. "No, you haven't. And you won't. Have you ever seen a native with a hard, cruel face? No, again. Have you ever seen one that wasn't gentle with children?"
"I guess not. I never thought about it."
She turned to him with an odd tremulousness in her face, replacing her usual cynical12 look and slightly raised eyebrows13. "They love their children here. They really love them." She looked at him. "They don't say they love them and then hit them and humiliate14 them because they accidentally break the vase Aunt Matilda gave the family for Christmas. Their child's happiness means more to them than any vase, than any material object. They never humiliate their children. That's why they grow up to walk like kings and queens.
"They grow up being loved," she said. "They all love each other. And it isn't because they try. They don't try to be good and nice and love their fellow-men, like we do. It's just something that flows out of them. They're full of warmth inside, and it flows out.
"And something else—" she went on. "Have you ever caught one in a lie?"
"No, but that doesn't mean—"
"People like your Mr. Cortland think they're sly and deceptive15 because they're always courteous16, and still you can't push them around. But he's wrong. They're courteous because they're sorry for us, not because they're afraid of us."
"Sorry for us?"
"Yes, sorry for us. They're sorry for us because we don't know how to enjoy life, because we worry about all sorts of things that don't matter, and knock ourselves out working, and need other people to reassure17 us of our own worth. Because we have bad tempers and awkward bodies, and we don't have that warmth inside of us flowing out toward other people.
"Even toward us," she said. "They're kind to us. They're tolerant. They want us to be happy. And they do accept us eventually. If we stay here enough years. If we change. Maybe not quite as one of them, but almost. Sometimes they even marry us."
Kirk shook his head, trying to clear it. "I can't think. I feel confused, I—"
"Still thinking about our great technological18 achievements? We're pretty cocky about them, aren't we? We come here all set to spread enlightenment among the savages19." She shrugged20. "They're not impressed with our magic machines. They're not selling their planet for a handful of beads21. They took a good look at us and decided to try to keep what they had."
She looked at him steadily22. "Personally, I've decided I can do without the vidar-shows. I'm going to stay and try to make the grade here. I'm going to work at becoming a better human being. I'm tired of being flippant and smart and sophisticated. I'd like to be happy." She paused. "Maybe a Nemarian will even fall in love with me eventually and marry me."
"You want to marry one of them!"
"You catch on fast." She blinked. "Sorry. That's not a very good beginning. It's going to take awhile to shake that flippancy23." She caught his eyes. "Wouldn't you like to marry Nanae?"
He didn't answer.
She smiled oddly. "Yes, I'd like to marry one of them and have children like theirs." She hesitated. "I said once, they spoil their children rotten. I guess they do in a way, but the children turn out fine. We Terrans just aren't used to children with a sense of their rights. These children overwhelm me." She lowered her eyes. "You know how flippant I am—when I try it in their presence I feel terribly stupid. They make me aware of every affectation; their eyes are so clear—like a deer's—I feel like a fool." She looked at him tremulously, defensively. "Anyway, I said that about their being spoiled, out of envy. When I first saw how their mothers held them—all that tenderness, all that love, all that warmth—I envied them with a terrible bitterness. It wasn't that I had bad parents. Just ordinary ones, trying to do their best and all that."
"Why do you keep talking about children all the time? After all, it's the adults who run things."
"The children are the adults of the future. It's the way they're brought up that makes these people what they are. You and I—all of us from Terra—we've been brought up on a limited, scientifically regimented, controlled amount of love. These natives have something we'll never have. We've got to work and strive for what comes as naturally to them as breathing."
As she spoke24, Kirk suddenly remembered the close-packed faces of Terrans speeding by in the opposite direction on the moving sidewalks at home—tense faces, hard faces, resigned faces, sad faces, timid faces, worried faces. Maybe one in fifty serene25 and self-confident, maybe one in a hundred vibrantly26, joyously27 alive. Maybe. Probably not that many.
He thought of the faces of the Nemarians.
Jeannette was still talking. "They are what human beings should be," she said slowly. "Somehow they've kept their birthright—the ability to be full of the joy of living whenever they're not in real trouble or sorrow, the ability to be happy just because they're alive. I haven't understood these people because I didn't want to understand them. I didn't want to see that they were better than I am. They're very simple, really; it's we who are complicated and devious28."
"Why hasn't anybody ever heard of this place?" Kirk asked.
"It's isolated," she said, "and people don't leave here, once they've seen what's here. They don't write too much, either, because by the time the spaceship arrives again, they understand. They cooperate with the authorities, who are trying to keep this place as much of a secret as possible. Publicize it, and within ten years it would be swarming29 with wealthy businessmen on vacation and jaded30 neurotics31 trying to get away from it all. The Nemarians would be lost in the shuffle32."
She was still a moment. "My husband came here to get away from it all. He heard rumors33 of this place a long way off and traced them. I didn't want to come. I liked cities and night-clubs; I liked being surrounded by amiable34, promiscuous35 men. He dragged me here against my will. Now he's dead, and I'm caught up in his dreams. These people are irresistible36; they call out to something basic and deep in you, and you respond to it whether you want to or not. You can't leave this place—unless you have to. Like you will."
Kirk stood up abruptly37. "Jeannette, do you mind? I feel terribly confused. A lot has happened to me today. I want to walk alone awhile and think things out."
She nodded, with a sudden look of compassion38.
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1
martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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2
clenching
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的现在分词 ) | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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8
snobbishness
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| 势利； 势利眼 | |
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snobbish
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| adj.势利的，谄上欺下的 | |
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10
primitives
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| 原始人（primitive的复数形式） | |
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11
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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12
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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14
humiliate
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| v.使羞辱，使丢脸[同]disgrace | |
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deceptive
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| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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technological
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| adj.技术的；工艺的 | |
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19
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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20
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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22
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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flippancy
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| n.轻率；浮躁；无礼的行动 | |
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24
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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vibrantly
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joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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29
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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30
jaded
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| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
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31
neurotics
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| n.神经官能症的( neurotic的名词复数 )；神经质的；神经过敏的；极为焦虑的 | |
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32
shuffle
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| n.拖著脚走，洗纸牌；v.拖曳，慢吞吞地走 | |
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33
rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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34
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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35
promiscuous
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| adj.杂乱的，随便的 | |
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36
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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37
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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38
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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