The Ice Master rose to his full imposing height and raised his hand in farewell. Then he turned and strode toward the door. It opened to let him through, then closed behind him, and Blade was alone again.
Chapter 15
He was alone for two days, as nearly as he could guess. There was no clock in his chamber and no dimming of the lights. But he could set himself to sleep for almost any amount of time with great precision, and then estimate the time between the two sleep cycles. This gave him a rough approximation of the amount of time passing.
He was determined to avoid any risk of disorientation; he was also determined to keep himself physically as close to the top line as possible. He had no idea when the Ice Master would call for him, or whether that call might pitch him straight into a situation where he could survive only by using every bit of strength and speed he possessed.
So he kept track of the time, did calisthenics, did unarmed-combat exercises, jogged (and in the process of the jogging estimated the size of the room and memorized his estimates). He bathed regularly in the huge sunken tub-pool (which had no adjustment for water flow or temperature; one slapped a projecting plate at the head end and the water flowed in until the tub was full, water always slightly too cool for Blade's preference). He ate the food which appeared in a recess in the wall regularly twice a day-a thick gray stew filled with blue lumps tasting like overaged and undercooked chicken and green glutinous lumps that both looked and tasted like a cross between half-baked bread and rice pudding. He drank the hot liquid that accompanied the food-a sweetish liquid the color of weak coffee and the most palatable part of the meal. He decided after the first two meals that the Ice Master's intention to treat him well did not extend to providing good food. He only hoped that none of the lumps in the stew were protein processed from human victims brought in by the Ice Dragons.
He was taking his bath on the «morning» of the third day when, without any warning, the door opened with its characteristic low swisssh and an unseen hand shoved one of the Girls into the chamber, so violently that she fell to her knees. Blade was instantly alert, springing out of the bath without bothering to dry or dress himself. The girl's eyes widened as she ran them over his body, standing naked and dripping in front of her. He examined her in his turn, and found the examination a pleasant enough task.
His initial notion that she might have been sent to him as a subtle way of killing him rapidly shrank away to nothing. He found it hard to believe that the short trunks that were her only garment could conceal anything lethal, and he found the notion of poisoned finger- or toe-nails ludicrous. Her skin was pale, but with a healthy tinge of pink, and a light dusting of freckles over her shoulders and down on to the small, firm breasts. There was firm-toned muscle under the curves of waist and hips and legs, and the toes and fingers of the small feet and hands were long and sure of their movements. The ponytail that flowed down her back was shorter than usual-it reached only just below her shoulder blades-and its color perhaps the least attractive feature about her-a sort of dirty blonde. The face was small, square-chinned, with high cheekbones and a delicately chiseled snub nose. The eyes were wide, deep blue, with lashes that half the women Blade knew could match only by going out and buying them. And those eyes struck the jarring note in the whole agreeable picture, because they were wide, staring, and filled with a stark terror that Blade could almost feel crackling in the air like static electricity.
He stepped over to the girl and reached down, putting his hands under her chin to lift her head. It came up stiffly, as though she were setting her neck muscles against it, and the terror in her eyes flashed stronger yet.
«What is your name?» he asked in a voice as low as he could make it and still hope that it would reach her ears.
«I am-I am a Girl,» she said in a voice with a faint tremble in it.
«I know that,» Blade said. «I can tell the difference between boys and girls.» The attempted note of lightness fell away into nothing, like a stone hurled into a canyon. She shivered as though the winds from the glaciers far above were sweeping through the room. His hands tightened briefly on her shoulders, trying to reassure her, but the shivering faded only slightly.
«Well, I cannot go on calling you simply Girl,» he said. «You must have a name. I think-«
She jumped up with a gasp. «No, no, no! I have no name. I am a Girl. I cannot have a name. It is forbidden. I-«He put his arms around her and pulled her gently against him, until her face was buried against his chest. She stopped speaking but went on trembling. «Who forbids it that you have a name?»
«T-t-the Master. He says-«
«-that you are Girls, not people, and only people have names? Is that it?» She did not speak, but nodded slowly and looked up at him with surprise now mixed with the fear in her eyes. His arms tightened again, and went on tightening until her gasp warned him that he was squeezing her as if he had the Ice Master here in his hands. If it had been the Ice Master, he would have gone on squeezing until the man slipped to the floor a boneless pulp. He was beginning to see what the Ice Master had done to the Girls.
«I do not tell the Ice Master everything I do or say,» he said sharply. (Provided, he added to himself, that this room isn't so thoroughly bugged that the bastard can pick up a cockroach's footsteps!) «So if you do not tell him everything, then I can give you a name and he will never know that we do forbidden things. Do you understand me?» She nodded, with the surprise now beginning to overcome the terror. He was something new in her life-not surprisingly, all things considered. «Then I think I will call you Lora. Say it after me. Lora.»
«Lora.»
«That's right. Now, Lora, why are you here?»
«For your p-p-Pleasure,» she said. The stammer would have told him, even without looking into her eyes, that the fear was back again, swamping everything. He felt her stiffen against him until it was as though he held a store-window dummy in his arms.
«Yes. But what kind of pleasure?» She gaped at him as though he had suddenly grown a second head, then stared down at his genitals.
«But you-you seem to be a Whole One. Have you n-n-never taken Pleasure before?»
Blade could not help flushing. She was implying he was either a eunuch or incredibly ignorant. But he felt himself also on the track of something too important to let himself be put aside by a little embarrassment.
«I have not taken pleasure here,» he said with emphasis on the last word. «You must show me how, lest I do something else forbidden that cannot be hidden from the Ice Master.» She swallowed several times hard, then stared at him for a moment, unclasped her trunks, and slipped them off. Nude, she lay down on the hard tile surrounding the bath and spread her legs apart. Her arms were stiff at her side, fists clenched until the knuckles were sheet-white. And the trapped-animal look was back in her eyes, stronger than ever before.
Blade stepped back a pace as the realization hit him, and for a minute could do nothing except swear, out loud and eloquently, by every Home Dimensional and X Dimensional spirit or deity he could remember. The wretched girl on the floor was expecting to be raped! No wonder the Ice Master was able to keep the Girls in line! He wiped out their memories of any previous existence, told them that they were merely Girls-indistinguishable as individuals. Then he conditioned the ungelded males among the slaves and guards-the Whole Ones-to be as brutal and ferocious in sex-in Pleasure-as possible. The Girls were kept in line by threats of being turned over to the Whole Ones for Unlimited Pleasure-no doubt a particularly unpleasant and no doubt usually fatal form of mass rape. Even without considering the possibility of Leyndt being subjected to that treatment, the whole notion made him almost physically ill.