By the time we stopped to have lunch, I had reached almost everyone in our party. The men were withdrawn and either silent or snarling, the women were jealous, surly and uncooperative, and the male guests were feeling their alienness and out-of-placeness. I hadn’t bothered with Gay King—who couldn’t have cared less about anything but her own comfort—or Tammad, who was having trouble understanding why his people were acting the way they were, but I hadn’t forgotten about them. I was trying to think of something really fitting for Gay, but right after we were back on the road it was Tammad’s turn.
The barbarian hadn’t been pleased with the way his men had behaved toward him and each other during lunch, having had to stop three arguments that were just about to become sword matters. His mind had been a blur of deep thoughts and planning during the morning’s ride, but distractions during the afternoon kept pulling him away from it. The more his annoyance grew, the more I slipped in a “what’s the use?” feeling of defeat and wasted time, working as carefully as I had with Len. Len would have been angry to find out my manipulations, but Len’s anger couldn’t hold a candle to Tammad’s. The barbarian had very deep drives to do and win, and I became curious to see how far I could drive him from his original purposes. If I drove him far enough, he just might turn around and take me back to the embassy.
It was still early afternoon when we stopped to make camp, and by then Tammad’s depression had grown so heavy it was like a black cloud pressing down on his mind, spreading and gathering force every minute. For a long while he had tried fighting it, tried convincing himself he was wrong to feel that way, but depression is insidious and hard to fight. He had begun to probe deep within himself, probably reexamining his purposes and aims, and had almost forgotten I was there.
Once all the tents had been put up, Tammad sat down in the grass in front of his pavilion to continue his soul-searching. Garth and Len showed up and quietly seated themselves not far from him, needing support and encouragement that they weren’t consciously aware of, ignorant of the fact that they weren’t about to get it. I sat in the grass a small distance away from them, watching clinically, seeing the depression the other two men had also developed. I wondered how far I could go maintaining them in their attitudes before they tried suicide, then wondered if it would be possible to keep them from suicide once they decided on it. I was sure I could, but I really had no intentions of allowing the experiment to go that far. There’s a strange sense of power in controlling the people around you, a power that would be lost if the people themselves were lost.
I had just noticed a frowning lack of understanding in Len, an emotion that had popped up suddenly, when Gay abruptly returned from the walk she had been taking. Her mind showed boredom and annoyance, boredom over having nothing to do, annoyance that people weren’t fussing over her and pampering her. She stopped a few steps behind the three men sitting in silence, stared at them for a moment, then stepped forward to take her place in the middle of the line they’d made.
“I have never in my life experienced such boredom,” she announced as she folded gracefully to the ground. “I was told this trip would be an adventure, but so far it’s more flop than fun. Aren’t any of you going to do anything?”
“What did you have in mind?” Len asked sardonically. “Right now I can’t even muster interest in the thought of raping Terry.”
“Maybe she’s volunteering to take Terry’s place,” Garth put in after talking a deep breath. Their comments offended me at once but I was more annoyed at their attempts to throw off the depression. “For my own part, I’ll have to go along with Tammad: accept no substitutes.”
“Why don’t you try raising Tammad’s interest again?” Len suggested, finally turning to look at the fury in Gay’s eyes. “That would give you something to do, and at the same time save Terry the effort. I understand she needs to conserve her strength for the part you’re not up to.”
“You repulsive mind-crawler!” Gay snarled. “The least you can be sure of is that you’ll never find out personally what part I am and am not up to! And as far as that-that-backward female you call Terry is concerned, she’ll never see the day she can best me at anything! Do you hear me, you silly little moist-eyed wimp? You belong in a place like this, serving your betters! Even the sight of you makes me sick!”
She was practically frothing as she looked at me, up on her knees with her fists clenched, spitting hatred and fury from mind and mouth alike. As furious as she was, I wasn’t far behind, and I stormed erect even as Tammad, Len and Garth roused themselves far enough to get ready to break up a fight.
“So I make you sick, do I?” I spat back, clenching my own fists as I glared at her. “So I’m a wimp, am I? Well, wimp this!”
Gay herself had told me exactly what she deserved, and I didn’t hesitate feeding it to her. I sent waves of nausea rolling at her, the sort of feeling accompanied by dizziness and sweating and uncontrollable heaves. The emotion describing the feeling was a complex one, but I had it put together and on its way in a matter of seconds. I was so angry I didn’t care what I did to her, but I was so angry I also didn’t pay attention to the spread of the wave. Gay went instantly pale and began to bend forward in helpless paroxysm, but even before she began, Len was already retching, emptying himself of everything he’d ingested, Garth and Tammad not far behind him. I hadn’t thought I’d spread the effect to include all of them, but then again I really didn’t care. They all thought of me as something to be ignored when not being used, and I was sick of it and them. People began hurrying over from all over the camp, anxious, concerned people ready to help. I watched the four victims of my anger for another minute, partially blocking out the sickness and disgust coming from their minds as their bodies spasmed, then turned and walked away.
Late afternoon should be a lazy, quiet time, but I was feeling too exhilarated and happy to want a quiet time. I walked to the part of the camp where the seetarr were tied and found a tree to lean against, then sent a triumphant gaze to the blue sky floating above the leaves. I had beaten them all, made them all feel as small and helpless as I usually did—or at least as I used to feel. I had lashed out at them in anger and I had made them know I was stronger, made them know what it was like to be pushed around! And I could do more, I knew I could do more, all I had to do was practice.
I sat down at the base of the tree and wrapped my arms around my knees, thinking about what I wanted to practice at. Considering the way most people made decisions, controlling their minds wasn’t nearly as good as controlling their emotions. Very few people can be honestly objective about a decision, especially if one side of the decision “feels” wrong. Side A may be the only practical way of doing whatever they want to do, but side B can be more pleasant, adventurous, financially rewarding, more easily achieved, or shorter in duration. The lure of side B usually overcomes the benefits in side A, and all because of emotional reasons. Making one thing appear more attractive than another was child’s play, so easy that it took almost no effort. I could—And then I stopped, immediately returning to the concept of effort. It had always been an effort for me to project, something that drained my energy in no time at all. I sat back against the tree again and examined my physical resources, very much surprised that I wasn’t flat on the ground from exhaustion. Thinking about it showed how tired I really was, but the tiredness was a far cry from being completely drained. I was growing in strength as well as in ability, and all I had to do was sit and rest for a while to bring myself back to where I’d