The overseer seemed as if he wanted to protest, but again, he shied away from a quibbling lie. “I sleep,” he said.
“I know,” said Rigg. “Why don’t you sleep at home?”
The man leaned his elbows on the table, put his head in his hands, and began to weep.
“You walk up and down in your rooms. Your children are asleep—why aren’t you?”
The man finally mastered himself enough to speak. “She’s a good woman, my wife. My master chose very well for me.”
“I’m sure he did,” said Rigg. “Yet something keeps you from sleeping.”
The overseer leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes and rocking his head back as if he were looking for something on the ceiling. “She snores,” he said at last.
Rigg did not laugh. The man’s misery was so sincere that Rigg did not want to make light of it. And this much he knew was true: He was getting no sleep at night.
“Tell me about her snoring.”
“Great ronking snores, sir. As if she were calling to geese to come back from their migration. As if she were sawing through great trees. And then in mid-snore, she stops. Stops breathing. And I wait. Because if she doesn’t start soon I have to waken her. Then she starts, and the noise is horrible. If she’s breathing I can’t sleep, if she’s not breathing I can’t sleep.”
“Yet you’ve said nothing to anyone.”
“Because I know how my master will solve the problem,” the man said. “I’m not complaining, he’s a fair master, but he goes straight to the obvious solution.”
“Separate bedrooms so you can sleep?”
“That would be such a bad example!” he said. “If he gives me a separate bedroom because of snoring, every woman he owns will be asking for a separate bedroom because her husband snores. Too expensive.”
“And I think you don’t want to tell anyone about your wife for fear of shaming her.”
“I love her,” said the man. “My master would split us up if he knew.”
“Split you up?”
“She already has three children, which my master thinks is enough for any of his women. But not for his best men. He’ll give me to another woman who doesn’t snore, and put her in my wife’s place. Everyone will be taken care of, but he can’t have me become… an unproductive male. His policy is that his best men should make six babies.”
“That seems a little imbalanced,” said Rigg.
Ram Odin touched his arm.
“Not said as a criticism, just as an observation,” said Rigg.
“It’s actually very sensible,” said the overseer. “Women put their lives at risk with every baby they have. Each one weakens them. But a man puts nothing at risk. It’s good to have a father to help with the little ones, good to have a marriage where people care for each other. But when a woman wants to stop, any time after three, he lets them move out right away. Just like that.”
“Divorce at the wife’s option,” said Rigg.
“Most women that love their husband, they stay out the six,” said the overseer. “But some die, just as the master fears. His policy is a wise one.”
“So if you complain to him about the snoring, he’ll assume that you want a divorce.”
“He won’t care what I want, sir,” said the overseer. “Why should he?”
Rigg curbed his anger at this foolish system. “Why doesn’t her snoring keep the children awake?”
“The doors are good and solid, sir,” said the overseer. “And they sleep like babies, because they are. They had that snoring the whole time they were in the womb, sir.”
“And you don’t really want to sleep in a separate room because of the times she stops breathing.”
“I don’t want her to die, sir,” and he burst into tears again.
“My first decision,” said Rigg, “is that you must go immediately into the room where that spinner is waiting.”
“But she’ll see me like this,” he said.
“I want her to,” said Rigg. “Don’t you see that she’ll think I must have rebuked you severely, to reduce you to tears? That may satisfy her completely, don’t you think? Don’t show her your tears. Try to conceal them. She’ll see. Now go.”
The man got up at once and went through the door that led to the room where the woman was waiting.
“So you start with the illusion of having punished him,” said Ram Odin.
“I don’t have any idea what to do.”
“One thing you’ve done is quite remarkable,” said Ram Odin. “You got to the heart of the matter. The woman is going to feel remorseful for having made the overseer weep. It’s obvious she only complained about his rudeness because the factory is falling apart and she only has a right to complain about how he treats her.”
“I know that,” said Rigg. “This is a terrible system, you know?”
“Because in Ramfold, free workers and free managers are never in a situation where the employees are terrified to complain to the owner about how the manager is doing his job?”
Rigg rolled his eyes. “That’s different.”
“It’s the same,” said Ram Odin, “under different names. They are both owned by the same master. In Ramfold, they would both work for the same employer. But both would be terrified of losing their position.”
“In Ramfold, the owner of the factory can’t divorce a man from his wife because he complains about her snoring.”
“But in Ramfold,” Ram Odin said mildly, “the owner would demand that he explain why he’s sleeping during the hours he’s paying him to work. If he doesn’t fire him out of hand, he’ll demand that the manager find a way to sleep or quit his job. So the manager is right where this overseer is—does he act to protect his wife from her apnea? What good will it do her if he loses his position and can’t get a good recommendation? They’ll lose everything. Out on the street. Disaster. In all likelihood, reduced to poverty and—”
“I get the point. But it still doesn’t help me figure out what to do.”
“I think you should let me sit with the wife tonight. Let him sleep in my quarters. I’ll have the ship listen to her breathing and evaluate her medically and tell me whether the apnea is life-threatening.”
Rigg looked at him uncomprehendingly.
“Apnea. Stopping breathing from time to time. It affects a lot of people but very, very few die of it. If we can tell him that she’s not going to die, he can go sleep in the children’s room.”
“Oh,” said Rigg.
“And if she really is in danger, then we tell the owner that the overseer is torn between protecting his property—the wife—and managing the factory.”
“The owner will still make them divorce,” said Rigg.
“Not if you forbid him to do that,” said Ram Odin. “Remember, the owner is also a slave, and his owner is owned by someone who is owned by the Lord of Walls.”
“I really hate Gathuurifold.”
“No, you’re just barely coming to understand it, that’s all. You’ll find that people are still people and find a way to carve out a life for themselves within whatever rules their culture imposes on them. This master’s rules about marriage are actually derived from his religion—the ship was telling me this while you were listening to the overseer. It’s a very practical religion, not a lot of ritual but plenty of rules of life and most of them make sense. But as with all rule sets, there are unintended consequences. Like the women who have six babies so they don’t have to leave their husbands.”
“You’re saying that the whole wallfold doesn’t have that rule.”
“Most people who practice the religion don’t actually follow that rule. My guess is that rather than obey you about not forcing a divorce on them, the owner will sell the factory to someone else.”