Kiacyl had sat with the Komislavian boys as they ate dinner almost every night after that first night. He never ate with them -- for no Vukasovian would ever eat at the same table as a member of another race -- but he was careful to avoid giving them offense on this score; he always simply informed them that he had already eaten. He worked with Djaisiuk who was on an earlier schedule then were any of them, so this was an easy excuse.
Kiacyl found the boys to be fascinating. They were like no others he had ever met. They were perfectly open with their thoughts and emotions, and in this way they reminded him much of the Londarians. But they were unafraid in his presence. They were not in any way cringing, even though they were now captives of an enemy race. In that way, they were nothing like the Londarians. Kiacyl at first attributed this seeming courage to ignorance, supposing that the boys may have great abilities in some areas and yet be stupid in others. Their words and actions, however, seemed to contradict this conjecture. They gave no indication of being below acceptable Vukasovian intelligence levels in anything that they actually said, and yet their speech was comfortable and friendly, never conceited or vainglorious. They were not afraid of Kiacyl for being Vukasovian, but neither did they despise him for his lower intelligence level. They continually fascinated Kiacyl, and yet they also confused him. One conversation, the second night that he sat with them, went as follows:
"You're really not what I would have expected for super-geniuses," said Kiacyl at one point in the evening.
"What do you mean?" asked Eriane. "What would you have expected?"
"Well, I suppose that I would have expected that I wouldn't be able to understand you all when you spoke to each other."
A few of the boys smiled at this and some laughed. Jaeger, however, being in a much better mood tonight than he had been on the night previous, nodded understandingly, took a deep breath, and, with a perfectly straight face, said:
"Although the possession of a mammoth capacity for rational cerebration enables one oft to verbalize unintelligibly, the feat is deficient in estimable appreciation and consequent delectation due to the effect determinant that said exploit generates adjudication of one being a lusus naturae."
Kiacyl's eyes widened a little at this, and Jade slapped Jaeger's arm in a friendly rebuke.
"Behave yourself!" scolded Jade.
Jaeger spread his hands and looked at Jade with a perfectly innocent expression. “I was only answering him,” he said in a defensive tone of voice, trying hard to suppress a smile.
"I must respectfully disagree with your statement, Jaeger," said Detrin.
"Respectfully disagree, indeed!" Jade scoffed playfully. "It was utterly ridiculous!"
"What Jaeger just said," Eriane explained to Kiacyl, "was that even though we could talk like that if we wanted to do so, we generally don't because people would label us as freaks." Turning to Jaeger, he continued, "But I would give other reasons than those. To be perfectly honest, I don't think that your argument was very good."
"I wouldn't have used 'adjudication' there, Jaeger," said Wysire. "That's a bit strong."
"And I object to the label 'lusus naturae,'" said Jade. "You make us sound like a group of five legged horses."
"And you must admit that occasional bouts do afford their delectation," smiled Detrin.
"Alright, alright! I'll withdraw the statement!" laughed Jaeger. "It was supposed to be a joke, but it's not funny if you pick it apart."
"A joke is only funny in so far as it is accurate," said Wysire gently. "Your statement was quite inaccurate."
"I suppose that I ought to withdraw my statement, really," said Kiacyl. "You do fit what I would have expected for super-geniuses."
"Now see what you've done, Jaeger!" exclaimed Eriane, smiling. "Now we really have been labeled as freaks! What have you to say for yourself?"
"I plead insanity!" said Jaeger throwing up his hands. "I accept no responsibility for my actions."
"Your plea is granted," said Jade, striking the table authoritatively. "You are admitted to being insane."
All of the boys joined in a hearty laugh at this, including both Jaeger and Jade. Their laughter was so infectious that Kiacyl could not help smiling, although he didn't quite understand what was so funny. Laughing from pure enjoyment without causing another pain was an experience completely new to Kiacyl. He had often found pleasure in seeing or hearing about the misfortunes or discomfiture of others, and he had thought at first that the boys were taking pleasure in attacking Jaeger. But they weren't; Jaeger was laughing with them. They were having fun together in a group while causing no one any pain. It was a very strange thing to a young Vukasovian.
Kiacyl could not help wondering whether they ever evinced pleasure from the pain of others. He had never seen them do it. He realized that he could himself quite easily have become the victim of that type of enjoyment after Jaeger's unusual statement about "unintelligible verbalization." All of the other boys had understood his statement perfectly (with the possible exceptions of Cycil and Sandy), and they could probably also have seen quite clearly that Kiacyl did not understand it at all. They could easily have scorned him or mocked him, but they hadn't. Kiacyl knew that a Vukasovian
The boys still did occasionally speak in terms that Kiacyl did not understand, but they were always quick to explain themselves if they suspected that Kiacyl was at all confused. This they did in such a manner that Kiacyl never felt that they were being condescending. They were so smart and yet so kind. It was a combination entirely outside of Kiacyl's experience.
After the fourth night of meeting with them, Kiacyl decided that he would like to meet the other three boys of which he had, by now, heard much through the 'free' boys, as he took to calling them in his own mind. Given the unity of these eight -- he did not group Djaisiuk with them -- Kiacyl wondered what the other three must be like that they would refuse to work for the Vukasovians. What reasons did they have for their refusal? Why, when most of their companions had chosen this way, did they insist on taking another? Kiacyl wanted to know. With this desire in mind, Kiacyl decided to visit the holding cells before meeting with the other boys on the evening of the tenth day after the capture of the boys.
Arriving at the holding cells, Kiacyl asked for access to the three cells holding the Komislavian boys. He was granted access and was directed to three cells, located very near to one another. He knew that each cell was perfectly soundproof, and there was no opening through which one could look either out of or into a cell, other than the constant security cameras within each cell, so the proximity of the cells did not in any way imply that the boys had access to one another or even that they would have seen each other since being brought here. Kiacyl gave this no thought, however, and proceeded to the first cell.
The rooms were very small, about five feet wide and ten feet deep. The only furniture in them was a small cot in the far right-hand corner of the room, stretching just over five feet along the right-hand wall as one entered. The walls, floor, and ceiling were white, as were the cots, giving the cells an appearance of always being perfectly clean, and indeed they were always kept clean. If a prisoner was subjected to any sort of experiment or punishment that broke the skin, the wound must be fully sealed before he would be returned to the cell. This further gave many of the prisoners an appearance of being in better condition than they might actually be.
Kiacyl was rather surprised upon entering the first cell. Within it, he saw a young Komislavian lying on his back on the cot, staring at the ceiling with an expression similar to that which Kiacyl was accustomed to see on Djaisiuk every day. This one's expression was slightly different however, in that it was indifference laced with hopelessness. Kiacyl, unused to seeing the latter emotion, did not recognize it, but instead only thought the expression very similar to, but "somehow different" from the one worn by Djaisiuk.
The boy did not look up as Kiacyl entered, nor did he acknowledge his presence.
"Hello," said Kiacyl, stepping up to the cot.
The boy did not move, but continued to stare blankly at the ceiling, his breathing slow and measured.
Kiacyl paused. "I've, um, met your compatriots," he continued haltingly. Now that he was here, talking to one of the prisoners, he wasn't at all sure of what he should say. It didn't seem to matter though, because the boy did not move or look at him.
"You remind me of one of them," Kiacyl continued. "I've started to get to know them. They talk about you from time to time, though they've never described you as being very quiet."
In truth, Kiacyl had no way of knowing which of the three boys this was. He did know that the other boys would speak of all three from time to time, but none of the three had ever been described as being quiet; therefore his statement was correct. Regardless, the boy still refused to acknowledge Kiacyl's presence.
"You remind me a lot of the one with whom I work. He doesn't talk either. I can talk to him, but he doesn't acknowledge me. If I didn't know better, I'd think that he was deaf or dumb. Or both." As he continued to speak, Kiacyl reached out a hand and waved it in front of the boy's eyes. There was still no response. "As is, I think that he's just terribly self-centered. I know that none of the other Komislavians would agree with me, but then I don't know him as well as they, and probably you, do."
By this time, Kiacyl was talking mostly to himself. The boy said nothing and made no movement. Kiacyl waited for a moment in silence, but the boy still did not move.
"Very well," said Kiacyl after a pause, realizing that he was making no headway. "I suppose that either you don't want to talk, or that something is very wrong with you. In either case, I doubt that either of us will derive any benefit from my staying here, talking to myself, so I'll leave you alone now."
With that farewell, Kiacyl left. He wondered whether this was the natural result of imprisonment on an emotional person, or whether this boy was simply someone like Djaisiuk. If it weren't for the fact that the boy's eyes had been open, he would have thought him unconscious. If it weren't for the breathing, he would have thought him dead. Kiacyl decided that if the second boy were like this as well, he would give up his plan and leave without seeing the third.
Entering the second room, Kiacyl met with a very different sight. Within was a distinctly Komislavian boy, pacing up and down the room, his hands clasped behind his back. The young man was a little taller than Kiacyl and looked to be a few years older, though Kiacyl claimed no great skill in guessing Komislavian ages. He looked up and frowned when Kiacyl entered.
"I've not seen you before," said the boy gruffly.
Kiacyl was surprised and pleased. This one spoke!
"No," said Kiacyl. "I've never been here before."
"Well?" asked the other, continuing his pacing. "What do you want?"
"I wanted to meet you."
The boy stopped and turned. He was standing near the far end of the room now. He looked at Kiacyl irritably.
"Why?"
Kiacyl regarded him. "You're very unfriendly."
"And you're very blunt," came the reply. "What do you want?"
"I've already told you," said Kiacyl. "I came to meet you. I've met your friends out there, and now I wanted to meet you and the other two."
The boy regarded him suspiciously. "Again, why?"
"I just want to understand your race better," Kiacyl replied. "I feel that I'm getting to know those who are here willingly, so now I wanted to know what the effect of this displacement would be on the mind of one who was here unwillingly."
"Get out," the boy ordered, and he returned to his pacing.
Kiacyl bristled slightly. This boy had no right to speak to him in such a fashion! He was a prisoner and a Komislavian prisoner at that. He might be a genius, but he should still remember his place!
"I'll leave when I please!" snapped Kiacyl. "You're in no position to give orders, especially to a Vukasovian."
"What do you want?" asked the boy again, not looking at Kiacyl now.
"I've already told you," said Kiacyl. "I want to know how you feel about all of this. I want to know why you won't go along with your friends. What do you think of this displacement?"
"Very well," said the boy, slowly approaching Kiacyl as he spoke. "You want to know what I think? I think that you Vukasovians are a lot of cowardly dogs who hide behind their superior numbers, thinking that they give you the right to proclaim yourselves rulers. You're so self-centered that you think that the entire universe revolves around you. You're so caught up in looking at yourselves that you never give a thought to those around you except as animals to be studied. If your pathetic little race was given its way, you would rule the universe, and all other peoples and species would be made your pets to play with or to study according to your whim. Well, I'll not be put under your little psychological microscope, so get out!"
The boy had come now right up to Kiacyl and stood with his hands behind his back, looking down at him.
Kiacyl was shocked. Never had anyone of another race dared to speak to him like that. Granted he'd only ever met two other races before this, but they both acknowledged his own race's superiority. And yet what the boy had said shook him. He was not at all what Kiacyl had expected. This was no pliant, emotional little Komislavian boy. This was a young man with strength of mind and will. He seemed quite different from the other Komislavian boys, and yet he was not like any of the Vukasovian boys that Kiacyl had known either. He seemed to have no fear. Looking at him, Kiacyl felt that he could see a slight resemblance to the other boys, especially to Jaeger in the area of the eyes, but the expression was one that he had never seen on any of the others. He wondered what the other Komislavians would say on the subject of the Vukasovian race in general, had they no fear of retribution.
The boy had again returned to his pacing, ignoring Kiacyl. Kiacyl, however, was intrigued now and had no intention of leaving just yet. He drew himself up proudly and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Make me leave," he said defiantly, curling his lip in a sneer. Kiacyl was not afraid of him. The guard was just outside the room, and the boy surely knew that retribution would be swift if he attempted to injure a Vukasovian worker.
The boy had again reached the other end of the room in his pacing. He turned slowly and looked at Kiacyl with something that might almost be considered hunger in his eyes. The slightest hint of a smile played about the corners of his mouth as he looked Kiacyl over closely. Slowly he shook his head.
"Don't tempt me," he said in a low voice. "You wouldn't like it if I obeyed."
"You're afraid of me," responded Kiacyl, tauntingly.
"You're not going to leave, are you?" asked the boy.
"No, I'm not," replied Kiacyl, shaking his head and looking at the boy arrogantly.
For a long moment, the two regarded one another. Then, without a word, the boy stepped over to his cot, laid himself down on it, laced his hands under his head, closed his eyes, and let out a long sigh. Kiacyl continued to watch him, but the boy refused to acknowledge Kiacyl's presence anymore. Kiacyl considered trying to speak to him again, but doubted that he would receive a reply now. He considered standing and waiting in the hopes that the boy would grow tired of this and get up again, but he realized that it was far more likely that the boy would fall asleep. Finally, Kiacyl decided that the best course would be to simply leave now and go on to the last boy. So, without another word, he turned and left the room. It wasn't until he had started down the hallway that he realized that the young Komislavian had succeeded in what Kiacyl had challenged him: he had made Kiacyl leave the room. In frustration, Kiacyl nearly turned again to go back to the room, but he restrained himself. The boy would surely only mock him. It was too late. The best course would be to continue as he was now going and hope that the Komislavian had fulfilled the challenge ignorantly and unintentionally.
Entering the third room and having no idea of what he should expect, Kiacyl found what seemed now a painfully familiar sight. There was a boy (or young man, rather, for he looked about the same age as the young man in the last cell) in this room, and he was lying on the small cot provided, fast asleep. For a moment, Kiacyl stood still, wondering if he ought to wake him. Looking at the boy, he saw pain in his expression. He wondered how much this boy suffered in his confinement. He wondered whether this one would be resentful as with the second boy or withdrawn as with the first. Or might he be different altogether?
As Kiacyl considered, the boy stirred slightly and opened his eyes. He blinked and looked around. Seeing Kiacyl, he groaned, closed his eyes, and turned his face to the wall. But, unlike the other two, he spoke even from this position.
As Kiacyl considered, the boy stirred slightly and opened his eyes. He blinked and looked around. Seeing Kiacyl, he groaned, closed his eyes, and turned his face to the wall. But, unlike the other two, he spoke even from this position.
"Can't you even give me a few hours?" the boy asked.
"A few hours?" asked Kiacyl. "For what?"
The boy turned to look at him again. "A few hours between tests," he said. "Must they be constant?"
Kiacyl frowned and didn't reply at first, and the boy looked Kiacyl up and down. Frowning himself, the boy spoke again.
"You're the youngest medic I've seen yet," he said.
"I'm not a medic," said Kiacyl. "And I'm not here to perform any physical tests, if that's what you think."
The boy blinked. "Physical tests?" he repeated cautiously. "Are you here for some other sort of test?"
"Not exactly," frowned Kiacyl, trying to choose his words carefully. "I'm trying to learn more about your race, and I thought that perhaps by seeing and speaking with you, I might come closer to that goal."
After another pause, the boy asked suspiciously, "Why me?"
"Well, not only you," replied Kiacyl. "Actually, you're the last one. I work with one of your compatriots, and I visit with eight of the others every night. I just met with the other two who are being held against their will, and you're the last of the three."
The boy slowly sat up, watching Kiacyl closely, and drew himself back against the wall.
"Why are you here?" asked the boy.
"I just told you," said Kiacyl, beginning to get a little frustrated. "I'm here to learn about your race. I thought that you were all supposed to be geniuses, but I'm beginning to think that that must mean something different in our two races."
"How do you intend to go about it?" asked the boy, not reacting the attempted insult. "Learning about my race, I mean. What part do I play in all of this?"
Kiacyl shrugged. "I just wanted to see what the effect of imprisonment would be on an emotional person."
The boy stiffened. "You certainly know all of the wrong things to say."
Kiacyl sighed, exasperated. "What would be the right thing to say?" he asked, obviously frustrated. "I want to learn more about your race. It's a desire based purely on curiosity, nothing more. I certainly don't have to do any of this, and I'm beginning to wish that I hadn't come at all. This is ridiculous!"
Strangely (from Kiacyl's point of view), the boy actually relaxed a little at this and even looked a little remorseful.
"I don't mean to offend you," he said softly. "I'm sure that you can understand my being suspicious of anyone who walks through that door."
Kiacyl frowned at him, but the other boy had lowered his eyes and did not now look at Kiacyl.
"If you want to learn about my race," the boy continued, "I'm sure that I am not the best member from which to learn. I would suggest . . . no, I won't suggest any of the others specifically. I would suggest generally that you ask one of the ones who are working for your people, if they really are still doing that. I must admit that I do hope that you're lying about that. Oh, but I'm certainly not accusing you of lying," he added quickly, looking up to see whether he had offended Kiacyl.
Kiacyl was assuredly not offended at being accused of lying, and he was surprised that this Komislavian would even consider that. Obviously the boy didn't understand Vukasovians. It was rather amusing, really.
"I'm not lying," Kiacyl smiled, "though I certainly don't expect you to believe me. You have no more reason to believe anything that I say than I have to believe anything that you say."
The boy blinked. "Then why do you speak at all?"
"Well, you might believe me," said Kiacyl. "At least, you might accept that to believe me would do no harm and would probably make no difference as to how you should act. That's how I'll probably treat everything that you say."
"I don't lie," replied the other.
Kiacyl raised his eyebrows. "That's a bad policy," he said. "If I asked you for some information that would help to destroy your race, would you give it to me?"
"I wouldn't answer. I may refuse to give information, but the information that I do give is always accurate, to the best of my knowledge."
"That's very strange," said Kiacyl, shaking his head. "Is that peculiar to you, or is that a common trait among your people?"
"It is common to my faith. I am a Christian, and as such I am not permitted to lie. Ergo, I don't."
"Now you are starting to sound like your compatriots," Kiacyl smiled. "That's the way that they speak."
The other boy made no comment on this but sat silently, still watching Kiacyl.
"So, will you tell me what you think about all of this?" asked Kiacyl. "What are your thoughts on this displacement?"
"No," the boy replied. "I don't want to talk about that, so I won't tell you."
Kiacyl raised his eyebrows. "Will you tell me why not?"
"I just did: I don't want to talk about it."
"Have you anything that you'd like to say about the Vukasovian race in general, perhaps?"
"No."
"No?"
"No."
"Perhaps . . . is there anything that you could tell me about . . . ?" Kiacyl trailed off, unsure of what to ask further. This boy had seemed communicative enough earlier; what had changed? "Would you tell me why you refuse to work for my people?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I don't want to."
"But why not?" Kiacyl was beginning to get frustrated again.
"It would only make you angry," the boy said at last. "I have no desire to say something that would serve no purpose but to upset you."
"Your refusal to answer any of my questions is upsetting me," snapped Kiacyl.
"I'm sorry," answered the other. "But my answers might upset you more than my silence."
"Why do you care?" Kiacyl frowned. "My race is the one that is keeping you imprisoned. Why do you care whether you upset me or not?"
"You are not your race, nor are you responsible for their actions."
"I am a member of my race, and I approve their actions."
The boy did not answer.
"Have you nothing more to say?"
"Your statement was just that: a statement. It wasn't a question."
"Then you're only going to answer when I ask a question?"
"Probably."
Kiacyl sighed. "You're not being very helpful. Is this intentional?"
"No."
Kiacyl didn't know whether to laugh or to be angry. This particular Komislavian reminded him of Djaisiuk in this, at least: he answered the questions in as few words as possible. Perhaps, Kiacyl considered, he should at least be grateful that the boy answered them at all. But in any case, it was now beginning to get late, and he doubted whether much would be gained by continuing this particular interview.
"Very well, I won't trouble you any further today," he said aloud. "It has been interesting, even if not very informative. Perhaps I will speak to you again another time."
The boy inclined his head in acquiescence but did not answer. Kiacyl then turned and left the cell without another word. It was indeed beginning to get late, and he still wanted to meet the other boys at dinner. He knew that they would have all assembled in the eating room by now, so he walked a little more quickly than usual down the many halls to the Detu section. He wondered what they would say about their compatriots, particularly after he had told them that he had seen them himself.
No comments:
Post a Comment