In physical education to the next day, Amy was interested to note that Raloz had a broken arm. He looked perfectly cheerful, which she took to mean that it had been Baslon's fault. The arm was in a neat hospital sling. After roll call and warm ups, she sidled over to him and whispered, "Whose fault?"

     "Nobody's," he answered.

     "I don't believe you."

     "I tripped and broke my arm," he insisted.

     "Possible, but given what I know about you . . ." Amy glanced around the weight room. No one seemed to be paying too much attention. "And your society, there's a probability of point nine that any broken arm you receive is from violence. Including the nearly instantaneous healing possible among certain species, including most species in your ancestry, I would say you were beaten up very badly recently. So, was it Cherry or Baslon?"

     He bent down to whisper in Amy's ear. "I'm not telling." He stood and looked around. "You have fascinating society here."

     "Could be better," she grumped.

     Raloz raised his eyebrows. "I hope you're not referring to the supernatural. You'd be incredibly disappointed, and return to the American world quickly."

     "I'm talking about utopias," Amy said. "Those societies which don't exist, and make for miserable writing. Marxism and the like."

     Raloz chortled. "I was under the impression that Communism was highly unacceptable in this area."

     Amy frowned up at him. "It is. I won't live in a Communist society. I don't trust people. If even one person decided that they did not like that society, or decided to be lazy, or whatever, then everything would fall apart. I know myself well enough that I could easily be that lazy person, so I can even believe the rest of humanity to be perfect and still not accept utopias. If I have to associate with people, then a republic suits me fine."

     "And you talk such wisdom, and you designed Cherry's personality so that she detests politics," he said gently.

     Amy's head snapped her entire spine vertical. "Excuse me. I have a quota of lifting to fulfill." She moved off to the nearest set of weights.

     She lifted, thinking, 'Cherry.' To the weights came down with to the thought, 'Her fault.' Amy pushed up. 'What do I do?' She lowered. 'Seek a geis.' The weights began lifting and lowering steadily, long past the time she should have gone on to another occupation.

     'Create a geis. No, correct one. Run? Jump out of to the way. Watch her way. Is Raloz dangerous? Of course. Will he harm me? Watch him, too. Do something about to the books. I'm dangerous. I can control their actions. Oh, that's nice. I'll take the tumble. They can't hurt me. Yes, they can. I'll have to hurt myself first. No, that's crazy. Well, aren't I crazy? Of course. So there is no trouble with hurting myself, right? Do you want to go back to that stupid psychiatric institution? Oh. I'll just have to watch out. Watch my back, too. Yes, that, too. And watch everyone else's' faces. Yes, of course.

     'Am I really crazy? No, it's just an act. No, probably I am. Wait a bit, and we'll find out. I'm not legally crazy. I've never hurt anyone. Except myself. I didn't do that on purpose. And haven't I hurt my sister? That was years ago. I've slapped Mom. Just twice. I bet that hurt, though. Didn't it hurt to be dragged out of the door, locked in the car, and driven to a mental hospital? Yes. But I didn't hurt Dad. Then you should fix that. Go home and slap him twice. To get back for something that happened three years ago? Oh. I guess it is a little past time.

     'Why not slap Cherry? She won't get angry, but it might shock her. Wait a bit, until the right time. Be thinking of it all the time, and start to several times, without finishing it. Then you'll get the blow through when you actually do hit her. Otherwise, she just catch your wrist and tease you over it. I can tease back. Wonderful. I won that argument, back then, when she wanted to kill me. That's true.'

*~~~~~*~~~~~*





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