"He wouldn't," Shee agreed. "He is a man."
Ennui smiled briefly, acknowledging the female camaraderie. "Unfortunately, neither of us is likely to have a choice in this matter. We are involuntarily linked, for good or ill. I just wanted to make that clear, privately."
"So it is to our interest to understand each other well," Shee said. "For good or ill."
"Affirmation. We may have a long and intimate association."
"Suggestion: you are the one who arranges the itineraries. Mark in another person to hold my ikon, should one come to exist. Havoc trusts other women, like Aura, the sorceress Ine, or Symbol. They have carried ikons before and I think do not object."
"Symbol!" Ennui exclaimed. "She wants an ikon! She hated giving up Voila's ikon five years ago. That deprived her of sexual immortality."
"Maybe Havoc will go along with the change. Then you will be free."
Ennui nodded. "I am coming to like you better."
Time had passed, and the rocket was descending toward its landing. Shee ended the privacy shielding, and Iolo stretched his limbs.
Soon they were admiring a Mayan pyramid, listening to the tour guide capsulize the ancient history of the region.
They found it interesting. So did Iolo, who sniffed everything, making it clear he was a dog. Other tourists were openly intrigued by his six legs, as Earth dogs had only four, and never suspected his real nature.
They spent the evening at a tourist banquet and entertainment show that featured dancing girls and standing comedians, and the night sharing a tourist hotel room. Shee did not need to rest or sleep, but Ennui was old, as she said, and did. So Shee put herself on standby and tuned out. Iolo diffused into his comfortable cloud state.
Next day they boarded the rocket, which was to take them to an island in the Pacific ocean and thence to an undersea city in one of the planet's deepest trenches. On the way they invoked privacy and talked again, while Iolo theoretically snoozed. This time Shee told about herself.
She had been part of one of the emulation projects that made robots that resembled the dominant creatures of cultures that were about to be reduced. Most living cultures were simply obliterated, and their resources processed for the benefit of the conquest effort. But a few had special things that the machines wanted to exploit. In such cases, robots were made to relate to those cultures, understanding them well enough to help acquire the targeted resources.
Because the machines planned well ahead, such projects had a generation or more to develop.
It wasn't feasible to construct a machine that perfectly emulated a living creature; there were too many subtle details that, in the manner of chaos theory, turned out to have unsubtle effects. So it was more economic to imitate the natural selection of life. The emulations were made small, and allowed to interact with each other, and run through training typical of the applicable cultures. They were replaced with gradually larger editions, not knowing this because they were turned off for the process. Only gradually did they learn that they were not what they seemed to be.
She met a new village boy at the school whom she thought was cute. He had curly yellow hair and nice blue eyes. His family had moved in recently from a neighboring village. She knew his name, but little else about him. So, with the boldness of a six year old child, she approached him.
"Say my name."
"Say mine," he replied.
"Stub toe."
"Shee."
It was a sufficient introduction, employing the mores of the culture they emulated; they had proved they recognized each other. He followed up according to the protocol, which indicated his interest. This was going well.
"How were you named?"
"How were you?"
"I was going to pick up a block to play with, but I stumbled and kicked it instead, hurting my toe. All the other children laughed."
"Teacher asked me a question about a girl in a story, but I had water in my mouth. I tried to swallow and speak at the same time. I said 'She-e-e—' and the teacher said 'I didn't ask your name.' Everyone laughed."
"They made fun of you," Stub toe said. "The way they did me."
"Affir—affir—"
"Mation," he finished for her, smiling. "It's a tough word."
Then it was time for class. But another day she came across him alone, and took another step. "Play Tickle and peek?"
He jumped at the chance, for most girls avoided this game unless they really liked the boy. "Affirmation."
She lay on the ground and he knelt beside her. Then he tickled her on the ribs.
"Eeeek!" she cried enthusiastically, waving her arms and kicking up her legs.
Then it was her turn. "Did you see to here?" she asked, touching her own knee.
"Affirmation."
"To here?" She touched the midpoint of her thigh.
"Affirmation."
"To here?" She indicated the juncture of her legs.
He licked his lips. "Affirmation."
"Then show me yours."
"Reluctance."
Ha. "Are you reneging?"
"Negation. Just not right now."
"Yes, right now," she insisted gleefully. "You have to show me." For there had been a purpose in her deliberate exposure: she wanted to see what his crotch contained.
Embarrassed, he pulled off his shorts. His underpants were bulging.
"What is that?" she asked.
"It—when I saw yours, it got stiff."
"Oh, let me see it!"
"If I do, you have to show me yours."
She hesitated. This was beyond the game, but she was really curious. "Affirmation."
He drew down his undershorts. There was a little bag at his crotch, and a fleshy rod, like an extra thumb. "It just got stiff," he repeated. "Sometimes it does."
"Touch and Touch," she said.
"Affirmation."
She put her hands on the rod. It was warm. "Where to you pee?"
"From the end. When it's not stiff. It's a tube."
"You have a tube to pee through," she said, giggling.
"And you don't. It must be hard for you to pee."
She cupped the bag below the rod. It was soft, and seemed to contain two marbles. "What's it for?"
"Ignorance," he admitted. "But it hurts if it gets banged."
Then it was his turn to touch her bare cleft. It had become moist. She pointed out where she peed from, and confessed that she had to squat to do it, so as not to soil herself. He was especially interested in the hole at the base of her cleft, and cautiously poked his finger a little way in. The slipperiness allowed it to penetrate without discomfort.
When she did not protest, he pushed it in until it reached the end of the hole. She didn't care to confess it, but she rather liked the sensation of his finger being that deep within her.
Then awareness overtook them. Both embarrassed by their daring, they got dressed and agreed to tell no one else.
But Shee never forgot that private experience, and she was sure Stubtoe didn't either. They never did it again, but now when she saw a boy's clothed crotch she imagined the tube and bag within it, and suspected that he similarly imagined the cleft and hole that a girl had. Later there were classes on anatomy and they learned all about male and female genital regions, but somehow it wasn't nearly as interesting or exciting as that first mutual exploration had been.
They studied in school, and explored around the village, and grew. Each year they were larger, and knew more.
Stubtoe and Shee ventured into the neighboring Blue Chroma zone, where everything was shades of blue. They knew they weren't supposed to, but they were curious. They quickly discovered that the region was dangerous; plants flung nettles at them, or tried to writhe tendrils around their ankles. The plants were active in ways that nonChroma plants were not. They could see larger trees farther into the zone, some with hanging tentacles, and knew better than to get close to those.