Contaminación difusa

When I wrote thi s s tory, a yea r before I bega n the novel The Le Ha nd of Da rknes s , I di d not know tha t the i nha bi ta nts of the pl a net Wi nter or Gethen were a ndrogynes . By the me the s tory ca me out i n pri nt, I di d, but too l a te to emend s uch us a ges a s “s on,” “mother,” a nd s o on.

Ma ny femi ni s ts ha ve been gri eved or a ggri eved by The Le Ha nd of Da rknes s beca us e the a ndrogynes i n i t a re ca l l ed “he” throughout. In the thi rd pers on s i ngul a r, the Engl i s h generi c pronoun i s the s a me a s the ma s cul i ne pronoun. A fa ct worth reflec ng upon. And i ts a tra p, wi th no wa y out, beca us e the excl us i on of the femi ni ne (s he) a nd the neuter (i t) from the generi c/ma s cul i ne (he) ma kes the us e of ei ther of them more s peci fic, more unjus t, a s i t were, tha n the us e of “he.” And I find ma de-up pronouns , “te” a nd “hes he” a nd s o on, drea ry a nd a nnoyi ng.

In revi s i ng the s tory for thi s edi on, I s a w a cha nce to redres s tha t i njus ce s l i ghtl y. In thi s vers i on, I us e the femi ni ne pronoun for a l l Getheni a ns —whi l e pres ervi ng certa i n ma s cul i ne tl es s uch a s Ki ng a nd Lord, jus t to remi nd one of the a mbi gui ty. Thi s ma y dri ve s ome nonfemi ni s ts ma d, but tha t’s onl y fa i r.

The a ndrogyny of the cha ra cters ha s l i l e to do wi th the events of thi s s tory, but the pronoun cha nge does ma ke i t cl ea r tha t the centra l , pa ra doxi ca l rel a ons hi p of pa rent a nd chi l d i s not, a s i t ma y ha ve s eemed i n the other vers i on, a ki nd of revers e

Oedi pus twi s t, but s omethi ng l es s fa mi l i a r a nd more a mbi guous . Evi dentl y my uncons ci ous mi nd knew a bout the Getheni a ns l ong before i t s a w fi t to i nform me. It's a l wa ys doi ng thi ngs l i ke tha t.

When whi rl pool s a ppea r i n the onwa rd run of me a nd hi s tory s eems to s wi rl a round a s na g, a s i n the curi ous ma er of the Succes s i on of Ka rhi de, then pi ctures come i n ha ndy: s na ps hots , whi ch ma y be ta ken up a nd ma tched to compa re the pa rent to the chi l d, the young ki ng to the ol d, a nd whi ch ma y a l s o be rea rra nged a nd s huffled l l the yea rs run s tra i ght. For des pi te the tri cks pl a yed by i ns ta nta neous i nters tel l a r communi ca on a nd jus t-s ub-l i ghts peed i nters tel l a r tra vel , me (a s the Pl eni potenti a ry Axt rema rked) does not revers e i ts el f; nor i s dea th mocked.

Thus , a l though the bes t-known pi cture i s tha t da rk i ma ge of a young ki ng s ta ndi ng a bove a n ol d ki ng who l i es dea d i n a corri dor l i t onl y by mi rror-reflec ons of a burni ng ci ty, s et i t a s i de a whi l e. Look firs t a t the young ki ng, a na on’s pri de, a s bri ght a nd fortuna te a s oul a s ever l i ved to the a ge of twenty-two; but when thi s pi cture wa s ta ken the young ki ng ha d her ba ck a ga i ns t a wa l l . She wa s fil thy, s he wa s trembl i ng, a nd her fa ce wa s bl a nk a nd ma d, for s he ha d l os t tha t mi ni ma l confidence i n the worl d whi ch i s ca l l ed s a ni ty. Ins i de her hea d s he repea ted, a s s he ha d been repea ng for hours or yea rs , over a nd over, “I wi l l a bdi ca te. I wi l l a bdi ca te. I wi l l a bdi ca te.” Ins i de her eyes s he s a w the red-wa l l ed rooms of the Pa l a ce, the towers a nd s treets of Erhenra ng i n fa l l i ng s now, the l ovel y pl a i ns of the Wes t Fa l l , the whi te s ummi ts of the Ka rga v, a nd s he renounced them a l l , her ki ngdom. “I wi l l a bdi ca te,” s he s a i d not a l oud a nd then, a l oud, s crea med a s once a ga i n the pers on dres s ed i n red a nd whi te a pproa ched her s a yi ng, “Ma jes ty! A pl ot a ga i ns t your l i fe ha s been di s covered i n the Ar s a n School ,” a nd the hummi ng noi s e bega n, s o l y. She hi d her hea d i n her a rms a nd whi s pered, “Stop i t, pl ea s e s top i t,” but the hummi ng whi ne grew hi gher a nd l ouder a nd nea rer, rel entl es s , un l i t wa s s o hi gh a nd l oud tha t i t entered her fles h, tore the nerves from thei r cha nnel s a nd ma de her bones da nce a nd ja ngl e, hoppi ng to i ts tune. She hopped a nd twi tched, ba re bones s trung on thi n whi te threa ds , a nd wept dry tea rs , a nd s houted, “Ha ve them— Ha ve them— They mus t— Executed— Stopped— Stop!”

It s topped.

She fel l i n a cl a eri ng, cha eri ng hea p to the floor. Wha t floor? Not red l es , nor pa rquetry, not uri ne-s ta i ned cement, but the wood floor of the room i n the tower, the l i l e tower bedroom where s he wa s s a fe, s a fe from her ogre pa rent, the col d, ma d, unca ri ng ki ng, s a fe to pl a y ca t’s cra dl e wi th Pi ry a nd to s i t by the fires i de on Borhub’s wa rm l a p, a s wa rm a nd deep a s s l eep. But there wa s no hi di ng, no s a fety, no s l eep. The pers on dres s ed i n bl a ck ha d come even here a nd ha d hol d of her hea d, l i ed i t up, l i fted on thi n whi te s tri ngs the eyel i ds s he tri ed to cl os e.

“Who a m I?”

The bl a nk, bl a ck ma s k s ta red down. The young ki ng s truggl ed, s obbi ng, beca us e now the s uffoca on woul d begi n: s he woul d not be a bl e to brea the un l s he s a i d the na me, the ri ght na me—“Gerer!”—She coul d brea the. She wa s a l l owed to brea the. She ha d recogni zed the bl a ck one i n ti me.

“Who a m I?” s a i d a di fferent voi ce, gentl y, a nd the young ki ng groped for tha t s trong pres ence tha t a l wa ys brought her s l eep, truce, s ol a ce. “Reba de,” s he whi s pered, “tel l me wha t to do....”

“Sl eep.”

She obeyed. A deep s l eep, a nd drea ml es s , for i t wa s rea l . Drea ms ca me a t wa ki ng, now. Unrea l , the horri bl e dry red l i ght of s uns et burned her eyes open a nd s he s tood, once more, on the Pa l a ce ba l cony l ooki ng down a t fi y thous a nd bl a ck pi ts openi ng a nd s hu ng. From the pi ts ca me a pa roxys mi c gus h of s ound, a s hri l l , rhythmi c eructa on: her na me. Her na me wa s roa red i n her ea rs a s a ta unt, a jeer. She bea t her ha nds on the na rrow bra s s ra i l i ng a nd s houted a t them, “I wi l l s i l ence you!” She coul d not hea r her voi ce, onl y thei r voi ce, the pes l ent mouths of the mob tha t ha ted her, s crea mi ng her na me. “Come a wa y, my ki ng,” s a i d the one gentl e voi ce, a nd Reba de drew her a wa y from the ba l cony i nto the va s t, red-wa l l ed qui et of the Ha l l of Audi ence. The s crea mi ng cea s ed wi th a cl i ck. Reba de’s expres s i on wa s a s a l wa ys compos ed, compa s s i ona te. “Wha t wi l l you do now?” s he s a i d i n her gentl e voi ce.

“I wi l l — I wi l l a bdi ca te—”

“No,” Reba de s a i d ca l ml y. “Tha t i s not ri ght. Wha t wi l l you do now?”

The young ki ng s tood s i l ent, s ha ki ng. Reba de hel ped her s i t down on the i ron cot, for the wa l l s ha d da rkened a s they o en di d a nd dra wn i n a l l a bout her to a l i ttl e cel l . “You wi l l ca l l ...”

“Ca l l up the Erhenra ng Gua rd. Ha ve them s hoot i nto the crowd. Shoot to ki l l . They mus t be ta ught a l es s on.” The young ki ng s poke ra pi dl y a nd di s nctl y i n a l oud, hi gh voi ce. Reba de s a i d, “Very good, my l ord, a wi s e deci s i on! Ri ght. We s ha l l come out a l l ri ght. You a re doi ng ri ght. Trus t me.”

“I do. I trus t you. Get me out of here,” the young ki ng whi s pered, s ei zi ng Reba de’s a rm: but her fri end frowned. Tha t wa s not ri ght. She ha d dri ven Reba de a nd hope a wa y a ga i n. Reba de wa s l ea vi ng now, ca l m a nd regre ul , though the young ki ng begged her to s top, to come ba ck, for the noi s e wa s s o l y begi nni ng a ga i n, the whi ni ng hum tha t tore the mi nd to pi eces , a nd a l rea dy the pers on i n red a nd whi te wa s a pproa chi ng a cros s a red, i ntermi na bl e floor. “Ma jes ty! A pl ot a ga i ns t your l i fe ha s been di s covered i n the Arti s a n School —”

Down Ol d Ha rbor Street to the wa ter’s edge the s treet l a mps burned ca vernous l y bri ght. Gua rd Pepenerer on her rounds gl a nced down tha t s l a n ng va ul t of l i ght expec ng nothi ng, a nd s a w s omethi ng s ta ggeri ng up i t towa rds her. Pepenerer di d not bel i eve i n porngropes , but s he s a w a porngrope, s ea -bes l i med, s ta ggeri ng on thi n webbed feet, ga s pi ng dry a i r, whi mperi ng.... Ol d s a i l ors ’ ta l es s l i d out of Pepenerer’s mi nd a nd s he s a w a drunk or a ma ni a c or a vi c m s ta ggeri ng between the da nk grey wa rehous e wa l l s . “Now then! Hol d on there!” s he bel l owed, on the run. The drunk, ha l f na ked a nd wi l d-eyed, l et out a yel l of terror a nd tri ed to dodge a wa y, s l i pped on the fros t-s l i ck s tones of the s treet a nd pi tched down s pra wl i ng. Pepenerer got out her gun a nd del i vered a ha l f-s econd of s tun, jus t to keep the drunk qui et; then s qua ed down by her, wound up her ra di o a nd ca l l ed the Wes t Wa rd for a ca r.

Both the a rms , s pra wl ed out l i mp a nd meek on the col d cobbl es , were bl otched wi th i njec on ma rks . Not drunk; drugged. Pepenerer s ni ffed, but got no res i nous s cent of orgrevy. She ha d been drugged, then; thi eves , or a ri tua l cl a n-revenge. Thi eves woul d not ha ve l e the gol d ri ng on the forefinger, a ma s s i ve thi ng, ca rved, a l mos t a s wi de a s the fingerjoi nt. Pepenerer crouched forwa rd to l ook a t i t. Then s he turned her hea d a nd l ooked a t the bea ten, bl a nk fa ce i n profil e a ga i ns t the pa vi ng- s tones , ha rd l i t by the gl a re of the s treet l a mps . She took a new qua rter-crown pi ece out of her pouch a nd l ooked a t the l e profil e s ta mped on the bri ght n, then ba ck a t the ri ght profil e s ta mped i n l i ght a nd s ha dow a nd col d s tone. Then, hea ri ng the purr of the el ectri c ca r turni ng down from the Longwa y i nto Ol d Ha rbor Street, s he s tuck the coi n ba ck i n her pouch, mu eri ng to hers el f, “Da mn fool .”

Ki ng Arga ven wa s off hunti ng i n the mounta i ns , a nyhow, a nd ha d been for a coupl e of weeks ; i t ha d been i n a l l the bul l eti ns . “You s ee,” s a i d Hoge the phys i ci a n, “we ca n a s s ume tha t s he wa s mi ndformed; but tha t gi ves us a l mos t nothi ng to go on. There a re too ma ny expert mi nd-formers i n Ka rhi de, a nd i n Orgoreyn for tha t ma er. Not cri mi na l s whom the pol i ce mi ght ha ve a l ea d on, but res pecta bl e menta l i s ts or phys i ci a ns . To whom the drugs a re l ega l l y a va i l a bl e. As for ge ng a nythi ng from her, i f they ha d a ny s ki l l a t a l l they wi l l ha ve bl ocked everythi ng they di d to ra ona l a cces s . Al l cl ues wi l l be buri ed, the tri gger-s ugges ons hi dden, a nd we s i mpl y ca nnot gues s wha t ques ons to a s k. There i s no wa y, s hort of bra i n-des truc on, of goi ng through everythi ng i n her mi nd; a nd even under hypnos i s a nd deep druggi ng there woul d be no wa y now to di s ngui s h i mpl a nted i dea s or emo ons from her own a utonomous ones . Perha ps the Al i ens coul d do s omethi ng, though I doubt thei r mi nds ci ence i s a l l they boa s t of; a t a ny ra te i t’s out of rea ch. We ha ve onl y one rea l hope.”

“Whi ch i s ?” Lord Gerer a s ked, s tol i dl y.

“ The ki ng i s qui ck a nd res ol ute. At the begi nni ng, before they broke her, s he ma y ha ve known wha t they were doi ng to her, a nd s o s et up s ome bl ock or res i s ta nce, l eft hers el f s ome es ca pe route....”

Hoge’s l ow voi ce l os t confidence a s s he s poke, a nd tra i l ed off i n the s i l ence of the hi gh, red, dus ky room. She drew no res pons e from ol d Gerer who s tood, bl a ck-cl a d, before the fi re.

The tempera ture of tha t room i n the Ki ng’s Pa l a ce of Erhenra ng wa s 12° C where Lord Gerer s tood, a nd 5° mi dwa y between the two bi g firepl a ces ; outs i de i t wa s s nowi ng l i ghtl y, a mi l d da y onl y a few degrees bel ow freezi ng. Spri ng ha d come to Wi nter. The fires a t ei ther end of the room roa red red a nd gol d, devouri ng thi gh-thi ck l ogs . Ma gni ficence, a ha rs h l uxury, a qui ck s pl endor; firepl a ces , fireworks , l i ghtni ng, meteors , vol ca noes ; s uch thi ngs s a s fied the peopl e of Ka rhi de on the worl d ca l l ed Wi nter. But, except i n Arc c col oni es a bove the 35th pa ra l l el , they ha d never i ns ta l l ed centra l hea ng i n a ny bui l di ng i n the ma ny centuri es of thei r Age of Technol ogy. Comfort wa s a l l owed to come to them ra re, wel come, uns ought: a gi ft, l i ke joy.

The ki ng’s pers ona l s erva nt, s i ng by the bed, turned towa rds the phys i ci a n a nd the Lord Counci l l or, though s he di d not s pea k. Both a t once cros s ed the room. The broa d, ha rd bed, hi gh on gi l t pi l l a rs , hea vy wi th a finery of red cl oa ks a nd coverl ets , bore up the ki ng’s body a l mos t l evel wi th thei r eyes . To Gerer i t a ppea red a s hi p brea s ng, mo onl es s , a s wi va s t flood of da rknes s , ca rryi ng the young ki ng i nto s ha dows , terrors , yea rs . Then wi th a terror of her own the ol d counci l l or s a w tha t Arga ven’s eyes were open, s ta ri ng out a ha l f-curta i ned wi ndow a t the s ta rs .

Gerer fea red l una cy; i di ocy; s he di d not know wha t s he fea red. Hoge ha d wa rned her: “ The ki ng wi l l not beha ve ‘norma l l y,’ Lord Gerer. She ha s s uffered thi rteen da ys of torment, i n mi da on, exha us on, a nd mi nd-ha ndl i ng. There ma y be bra i n da ma ge, there wi l l certa i nl y be s i de-a nd a er-effects of drugs .” Nei ther fea r nor wa rni ng pa rri ed the s hock. Arga ven’s bri ght, wea ry eyes turned to Gerer a nd pa us ed on her bl a nkl y a moment; then s a w her. And Gerer, though s he coul d not s ee the bl a ck ma s k reflected, s a w the ha te, the horror, s a w her young ki ng, i nfini tel y bel oved, ga s pi ng i n i mbeci l e terror a nd s truggl i ng wi th the s erva nt, wi th Hoge, wi th her own wea knes s i n the effort to get a wa y, to get a wa y from Gerer.

Sta ndi ng i n the col d mi ds t of the room where the prowl i ke hea d of the beds tea d hi d her from the ki ng, Gerer hea rd them pa ci fy Arga ven a nd s e l ed her down a ga i n. Arga ven’s voi ce s ounded reedy, chi l di s hl y pl a i n ve. So the Ol d Ki ng, Emra n, ha d s poken i n her l a s t ma dnes s wi th a chi l d’s voi ce. Then s i l ence, a nd the burni ng of the two grea t fi res .

Korgry, the ki ng’s bodys erva nt, ya wned a nd rubbed her eyes . Hoge mea s ured s omethi ng from a vi a l i nto a hypodermi c. Gerer s tood i n des pa i r. My chi l d, my ki ng, wha t ha ve they done to you? So grea t a trus t, s o fa i r a promi s e, l os t, l os t.... So the one who l ooked l i ke a l ump of ha l f-ca rved bl a ck rock, a hea vy, prudent, rude ol d cour er, gri eved a nd wa s pa s s i on-ra cked, her l ove a nd s ervi ce of the young ki ng bei ng the worl d’s one worth to her.

Arga ven s poke a l oud: “My chi l d—”

Gerer wi nced, feel i ng the words torn out of her own mi nd; but Hoge, untroubl ed by l ove, comprehended a nd s a i d s o l y to Arga ven, “Pri nce Emra n i s wel l , my l i ege. She i s wi th her a enda nts a t Wa rrever Ca s tl e. We a re i n cons ta nt communi ca on. Al l i s wel l there.”

Gerer hea rd the ki ng’s ha rs h brea thi ng, a nd ca me s omewha t cl os er to the bed, though out of s i ght s l l behi nd the hi gh hea dboa rd.

“Ha ve I been s i ck?”

“You a re not wel l yet,” the phys i ci a n s a i d, bl a nd. “Where—”

“Your own room, i n the Pa l a ce, i n Erhenra ng.”

But Gerer, comi ng a s tep cl os er, though not i n vi ew of the ki ng, s a i d, “We do not know where you ha ve been.”

the frown a t the Lord Counci l l or. Gerer’s voi ce di d not s eem to troubl e the ki ng, who a s ked a nother ques on or two, s a ne a nd bri ef, a nd then l a y qui et. Pres entl y the s erva nt Korgry, who ha d s a t wi th her ever s i nce s he ha d been brought i nto the Pa l a ce