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Subject: Journal Entry 038 / 0127  [ Building Castles ]
Message-ID: <1992Jun5.012215.26557@nwnexus.WA.COM>
From: elf@halcyon.com (Elf Sternberg)
Date: 5 Jun 92 01:22:15 GMT
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     Journal Entry 038 / 0127

     The chime rang, indicating someone at the door.  I looked up from
the sketchbook I had in front of me and said "Dave?"

     "It's Tarrette, Ken."

     I groaned inwardly and said "Do you know what she wants?"

     "She's standing at your door; I assume she wants to talk with you.
I have informed her that you are home."

     I sighed.  Why did he have to tell her I was home?  Probably
because I insist that he do so.  "Well, let her in."

     The door parted, and Tarrette walked in.  A pretty Felinzi, mostly
done in light tangold fur, with a slim and well-muscled body.  She walks
with an soft air of self-assurance, but there's also a harshness to her
features that I've never been able to get over.

     Aside from her looks, there are other things about Tarrette that
put us at odds.  For one, there are times when I hink we're still
competing for P'nyssa's attentions.  Tarrette's was P'Lissane's mother
along with Nyss, and of her three previous lovers, Tarrette's the one
who comes around the most.

     For the other, Tarrette's interests have gotten a little... Let's
just say I don't like what she does in bed sometimes.

     "Hello," I said slowly, trying to hide, somewhat, my feelings of
distaste.  I wondered if those feelings were directed at her, or just at
what she did.  At the moment, not even I could tell.

     "Hello, Ken," she replied.  "Can I sit down?"

     "Feel free," I said.  She sat down on the floor across the table
from me and watched me as I tried, unsuccessfully, to draw P'nyssa
leaning against a wall.  After a few minutes of pause I said, "Well, can
I ask what you're here for?"

     "I need to ask you for a favor."

     I looked up from my sketchbook.  "Under what guise?"

     "Excuse me?"

     "Are you asking me for this favor because I'm a friend, as
P'nyssa's coimelin, or as Vatare'?"

     "You want to know if this is an official visit?"

     "Something like that."

     She smiled slightly.  "This is an official visit.  I want your
help."  I waited.  "I want your assistance in building a Castle."

     I thought for a moment.  There are reasons why people build
Castles; they're usually regarded as centers for some activity.  Despite
our anarchic form of government, Castles are the closest thing
Pendorians have to seats of authority; they're the local housings for
AI's, and usually they're social centers.

     "Okay," I said.  "For what?"

     "Do you know of a place called Rick's Underground?"

     It took a lot to bite back my anger.  I tried to put on a
comfortable face and said "I've heard of it."

     "You know what they do there."

     "I do."  I'm sure my anger registered with her that time.

     "You don't like what they do there."

     "No.  Nor do I like what Chusi's place is for, nor do I know or
care if there's a mixed place for that kind of thing.  It's sick."  It
suddenly dawned on me what she was going to ask for.  "The answer is
no."

     "'No' to what?" she asked.

     "No, I will NOT help you build a Castle for that kind of behavoir."

     "Can I ask why?"

     I paused for a second, organizing my thoughts.  "Tarrette', to be
honest, I don't like you, and I don't understand what P'nyssa sees in
you or why she continues to like you even as you've gone into your
little weirdness.  If I helped you build a Castle to your perversion it
would only put my stamp of approval on it, and that's not something I'm
about to let happen."

     "Can I make a counter-argument?"

     "Feel free," I said.

     "Will you keep an open mind?" she asked.

     "Depends.  I've been known to survive open-mind surgery before."

     "Fair enough.  Ken, the reason I've come now to ask is that
Rick's-- and Chusi's, although to a lesser extent-- are overflowing.
There are more people using those two places than is safe.  Now, I don't
know about you, but under these circumstances, I think we need a place,
and an AI, dedicated to letting us do what we do.  You may callously
hope that someday someone will get killed and we'll all throw our toys
away and go home.  But reality is that there are people like me, like
Rick and Chusi, who enjoy this kind of playing and we're not going to
give it up.  Ken, if I pegged your scenario properly, I have to ask-- do
you really want one of your kids ending up dead?  I'd rather have a safe
place and strong monitor to make sure it stays that way."

     "Is that all?"

     "Yes," she said, her anger reaching mine.  "That's all."  She rose
and left, abruptly.


     It was several days later when I broached the subject with P'nyssa.
I walked up behind her and gave her a tight squeeze.  "Love you."

     "I love you too, Ken," she said gently.

     "Can I ask you a question?"

     "Anything, you know that.  Now let me go, I've got to finish
writing this."

     I took her by the shoulders and tugged, turning her around in the
swivel chair.  "I'm serious.  Can that wait?"

     She smiled and said, "Looks like it' going to.  What's up?"

     "Do you still love Tarrette'?"

     She nodded.  "I do."

     "Even when she started playing with the Alanailen?"

     "Ken, Tarrette' invited me once to go with her to Chusi's.  I told
her I'd rather not.  She's never been pushy about it."

     "So you still love her?"

     She nodded.  "Ken, I love Tarrette'.  She's beautiful and she's
strong and she helped me stand up and raise Lisa the way I would want
to.  She let me train to be the damn good doctor I am.  She has never
hurt me, and she has never done anything that would make me thing she
would."

     "But Alanailen?"

     She shrugged.  "Sadomasochism is no surprise, Ken.  What brings
this subject up, anyway?"

     I shrugged.  "She came to me and asked me to build a Castle for
them."

     "And what did you say?"  P'nyssa peered at me curiously.

     "I told her no."

     "No?" She asked suprised.  It had to be the first time I'd turned
down a request by an organized community for a Castle.  "Why?"

     "I told her I was not going to build a Castle, to put my stamp of
approval, to that kind of sickness."

     P'nyssa sighed.  "Ken, your friend Jahn works almost incessantly to
bring to people the news that it's okay to love whoever they want to.
Does it matter how they do it, too?"

     "That's not love!"

     She sighed.  "No, for you and me it isn't."  She turned and tapped
a few buttons on her terminal, then said "Dave, I think you know what
I'm looking for."  There was another pause, and then she said, "Look."

     I read a few scanlines of Terran romantic behavoir patterns.
"Okay, so telling someone how you love them is different the universe
over.  That doesn't excuse hurting people."

     "But it's... I don't understand it either, but then I don't
understand why exchanging chemical poisons is a symbol of love on Terra,
either."

     "Huh?" I said, then saw the connection.  "Oh, chocolate.  You're
not allergic to chocolate."

     "No, but all the felines are."

     I nodded.  "True enough."

     She looked at me and said, "What was her argument?"

     I laid it out for her.  After a few minutes she nodded.  "She's
right, you know.  They would be safer with a dedicated AI and a medical
facility nearby."  She smiled.  "And with on-facility housing you'd know
where all the perverts were."

     I laughed.  "I used to think being gay was a perversion."

     "Backspin," she swore.  "You just thought being gay wasn't for
you."

     "Still isn't," I said.

     "No," she admitted.  "But you have slept with a male, and you liked
it."

     I nodded, and sighed.  "You think I should do it."

     "I think you should."

     "I'll think about it."


     I have to admit something.  It's great to be out here.  Two months
ago this was a huge, virgin valley, just waiting for our hands to come
out here and sculpt it to our collective whim.  As the 'our' floated
through my mind I chuckled, amused at the thought that lumped me with
Tarrette and her kind.

     I sat down at one of the various wooden picnic tables scattered
about the rim of the valley overlooking the Northern edge, over the
Castle, or at least what would eventually be the Castle.  The wind kept
tugging on my napkin.  It was a wonderfully clear spring day, a little
warm, a little humid.  Down on the valley floor two huge Magis wrestled
with the Southern wall of the castle foreyard, trying to get it into
place.  Finally they paused, apparently in electronic discussion, turned
and began assembling the wall piecemeal.

     I bit into my sandwich hungrily.  I wasn't doing much physical
work... rather, I was just watching over as this world, which I had seen
before in illusion, was assembled for real.  It was satisfying watching
the whole thing go up.  I knew for a fact that I had built the Ring to
my specifications, but that's not something I can really walk in and on
and through, something I can see and know I put my idelible mark on.

     Tarrete's voice interrupted my reverie.  "Can I sit here?"

     "Sure, sure," I said through a mouthful of roast beef.  It was
disgustingly muffled, but she got the idea, probably more through my
gestures than anything else.  I swallowed and said, "So... is it what
you expected?"

     "Better than I expected.  Thank you, Ken."  She sounded so sincere
I felt a twinge of guilt for being angry with her earlier.

     "Why thank me?"

     "Because I didn't think you were going to do it, and when you said
you would, I didn't think you were going to do it well.  I've seen some
of the ideas you implemented... you do know that everybody's ideas are
being marked down for future reference?"

     I nodded.  "That was Doc's suggestion."

     She smiled.  "You know why that is, don't you?"

     "No, why?"

     "Because he uses such complicated hardware nobody else knows how to
use, he figured people should come to him if they wanted to learn how to
use it.  But your ideas are so... simple, and useful.  Zero-g rooms with
inset cleats?  Those sdisk watersprayers?  Especially with the
oscillators.  Sunken cleats at the corners of doorframes and... and
those ones in the hallways, with the cleats set at a forty-five degree
angle, so that people can be restrained to the wall or across the
hallway?  I will give you this, Ken... even if you don't like what we
do, you've got a creative mind for it."

     I blushed.  "Those ideas just kind of came to me, in little flashes
while I was working."

     "But that's the point, Ken.  You're _good_ at this.  I don't know
if I told you this, but the airstream thing in the zero-g room so
liquids can be used safely was so... brilliant!  What else did you...
Oh, those biofeedback vibrators!  I mean, if you think about it, Ken,
you really should do this."

     "But I don't like it, Tarrette'."

     "How do you know?" she asked, rapidly.

     "I..."

     She smiled.  "You don't, you see.  You don't know, Ken."

     "What's the point of... of hurting each other?  Of bruising, and
ordering, and commanding?"

     "They're not all the same thing, Ken, and you know that.  Pain,
let's say...  Pain is a warning that something is wrong, Ken, but have
you ever felt pain?"

     "Of course I have.  I've been hurt before."

     "No, no, no.  You've sensed and reacted to pain, but have you ever
really _felt_ it?  Have you ever paid attention to it, or have you just
tried to get away from it?"

     I thought about it for a second.  "Why would you want..."

     "Because people don't."  She smiled.  "Think about experiencing
it... it's like any other sensation, really.  Massage, tickling, orgasm,
pain.  They're all sensations your body can stand.  Some people hate
tickling, others like it.  Pain can be the same way."

     I thought about it for a while.  "And the other parts?"

     "What... oh, that.  Ken, the one thing we have to believe in is
that there are people who _like_ this, and that's all we can do, is
beleive, and when possible, help them... help me, us, play safely."

     I nodded.  Then I laughed, breifly.  "You know, Nyss said that,
this way, I'd at least know where all you perverts were."

     She grinned in reply.  "There is that.  Come to the open house,
Ken."

     "The open Castle, you mean."

     "Whatever."

     "Is it going to be one of your... parties?" I asked.

     "Of course.  Just a mild one, really."

     "How many people?" I asked, curious.

     "Almost two hundred, at least count."

     "These are regulars at Rick's and Chusi's?"

     "Only.  You'll probably be the only... 'outsider' there."

     I laughed.  I found it hard to beleive that anywhere on Pendor
people would think of me as an 'outsider,' yet I had to agree...  In
this small realm, I would be.

     "I don't have to do anything, do I?" I asked, unsure.

     "No, Ken..." she sighed.  "That's part of the point.  You don't
have to do anything you don't want to, at all.  You can just watch.  You
saw the layout of the main hall... there'll be safe spaces set aside,
places where you can just talk, or eat.  We'll have a little food."

     "Do I have to wear anything?" I asked.

     She laughed.  "No, dear, you don't have to wear anything, and you
don't have to go naked."

     I gulped.  Curiosity, both personal and scientific, overwhelmed me.
"Okay, I'll be there."

     She touched my cheek gently.  "I knew you would."


     They say sentience and instincts don't mix... that sentient peoples
have no use for instinct, that instinct will in fact be contradictatory
to the needs of a technological people.

     Now there are cases where this is true.  The aerodynamics of
powered flight, for instance.  If a plane that depends upon air over a
wing for lift stalls, the instinct is to pull up, to pull the plane out
of the oncoming nosedive.  People who do this die.  The correct response
is to push into the stall, getting more air over the wing by the fall,
and then pull.  

     Now, it can be argued that for many Pendorians, instinct is either
completely lacking, because they're genetically engineered persons, and
it can also be argued that for many Pendorians instinct should be much
stronger since they're engineered in many cases from more animal
origins.

     But that doesn't explain me.  I'm just a base Terran human.  And
every instinct in my body was telling me I should be getting the Hell
out of here.  I couldn't beleive I was standing here, seeing this.

     The main room of the Castle is huge.  Most of the interior
decorating isn't done, but the main social area, basic living quarters,
physical plant (including AI Lynn) and Medical were completely
furnished.

     The floor isn't quite done.  The artwork is in general sketch, and
for the party we covered in a layer of transparent hullmetal cut with
jigsaw patterns for interlock.  It's very... artsy, I guess.  At least I
took pleasure in admiring it.

     The lights were dimmed to half-power and four huge cone-shaped gas
heaters suspended from the ceiling, dispelling the chill.  Inside the
main hall, for 'A' frame racks, I guess, were set up.  Tarrette' had
taken great joy in showing me that the frames closest to the main
entrance were 'male,' having an even number of bars and hence an odd
number of openings, the center of which was for male gentials, while the
ones closer to the portals were designed to accomodate female breasts.

     I shivered.  The degree of thought that went into designing
something like that stunned me.

     To our left, a couple had restrained a female mephit to a set of
bars and were systematically shaving the fur off of her breasts.  I
shivered again and wandered into the second room.

     This was more to my liking.  Tarrette wandered away from me while I
stood around, drinking from the punch bowl.

     "Ken!"

     The voice was familiar.  I turned, stunned.  "Misha?"

     Misha Tankana, a rather well-known Tindal artist, wandered up to me
with his current mate, a beautiful Felinzi fem whose name I dimly
recalled as "Tana."  "You remember."

     "How could I forget?  What are you doing here?"

     "I should ask you the same question, Kennet.  Especially
considering your opinion of what will be going on here."

     "My opinion?"

     "It's widely known that you disapprove of Alanaelen, Ken.  So I'm
rather surprised to see you here."

     I looked Misha over.  "And what do you do?" I asked him.

     "Me?  I guess the phrase is 'whipping boy.'"

     "You?"

     "Yes, Me.  Why do you act so surprised?"

     "I don't know..."  I turned to Tana.  "And what do you do?"

     "Every whipping boy needs a whip," she said.  I think I must have
paled slightly, because she chuckled gently.  "Tell me, Vatare', would
you like me to whip you?"

     I stared her in the face.  "You're kidding."

     "Of course not," she said.  "I think I'd be honored to be the first
person to hit you.  And think of it as an experience, an understanding,
between us, that I can do this and you would not want to retaliate."
She smiled.

     Her words seemed so convincing that she almost had me.  But I
declined.  "Um, no thank you."

     "As you wish," she said with no disappointment in her voice.
"Excuse us."

     I watched as she took him into the next room, and decided to
follow.  As we passed through the short hallway linking the quieter room
with the main hallway, I paused for a second to avail myself of the
restroom.

     When I returned, Tana had tied Misha to one of the racks and was
busily going through a small canvas bag, laying out four large, black
whips, apparently made of leather.  I leaned up against an unattended
piece of dungeon furniture, the purpose of which I knew not.  "What do
you think?" a voice asked in my ear.

     I felt as if I had jumped a meter out of my skin.  I whirled
around.  "Tarrette!" I hissed.  "Hasn't anyone ever told you not to
sneak up on nervous people like that?"

     A >Crack!< came from the scene behind me, and I whirled around to
see Tana warming up with a short whip, about 40 cm, with lot of heavy,
leather tails.  "What have you got to be nervous about?" Tarrette'
purred.  "It's not you who's going up there."  She reached over and
tickled my side lightly.  "Or are you tempted?"

     "No, I'm not tempted," I lied quietly.

     "I think you are," she said gently, but then let it drop.  We
watched Tana whip Misha (I later found out that correct term is
'flog.').  As the strikes got harder, I looked away.  Tarrette reached
over to me and tickled me through the short tunic I wore.

     "Stop it," I said.

     "Do you know what a safeword is, Ken?"

     "Of course I know what a safeword is," I snarled back at her.  "You
gave me that whole list of texts to read, remember?"

     "Of course I remember," she said, starting to tickle me with more
strength.  "I'm surprised you read them all."

     "Of course..." I said, gasping.  "Of course I read them all!"  I
laughed again.  "Now stop it!"  I shifted away from her, away from my
comfortable lean, to a stand.

     She walked around the bench and came up behind me.  I glanced over
at my shoulder just in time to see her reach for me and give me a hug.

     "What was that for?" I asked.

     "Oh, I just wanted to get your attention," she said as she began
tickling me again. 

     "Tarrette'!" I snarled.  "Stop it!"

     "You haven't called safeword," she said, giggling.

     "You don't need a safeword to stop someone from tickling you!" I
looked and saw other people were watching us.  I barely noticed the
action going on around Misha's whipping.

     "Yes, you do, Ken, you do around here," she said in a soft
sing-song.  "I think you're just afraid to admit you like it here, and
you like it when I tickle you."

     I squirmed and laughed under her grasp.  "Take his arms," she said
to some of the people watching us.  I waited.  Would they really follow
her instructions?

     They did.  I felt my arms be lifted, against my will, but I didn't
fight it.  Did that mean against my will?  All these thoughts shot
through me so quickly.  What was I getting myself into?

     More fingers joined Tarrette's.  I was in the center of a
tickle-circle, my arms outstretched.  I squirmed and Tarrette' ordered
"Stand still!"  I tried my best, but my body just wouldn't hold still.

     There was something innately... magical about being in the center
of such a circle, the object of so much attention, even if the
sensations were riding up into the overload category.  It's a rare
occassion when I don't like being tickled.  I opened my eyes breifly and
looked.  Tana stood in front of me, smiling.  She leaned over, and
rather than tickle me, she breathed on my chest.  Her hot breath spread
over my skin, and it seemed to go deeper into me, filling my chest,
distracting and enstrengthening me as I was tickled.  I squirmed and
laughed uncontrollably, tears filling my eyes.  Then I blinked again and
stopped laughing, stopped squirming, although the tickling was just as
strong as ever.  Something more important than tickling had come into my
head.  Resolve.

     "Tana," I whispered.  She was tickling me again.  "Tana," I
repeated.  Finally, she looked up at me.  "Go ahead."

     Surprise crossed her face, as if she wasn't sure what I had meant.
Maybe it was confusion.  Then she smiled.  With a toss of her head in
the direction of the rack she said, "Over there."

     I was quickly stripped, and then tied to the same rack I had seen
Misha being whipped on (I had thought) just a few minutes ago.  As I
felt soft leather cuffs being buckled to my wrists and ankles, the only
thought going through my head was "What am I doing here?"  I was to find 
out later just how common a thought that was.

     Then I was lashed down.  Ropes were fixed through D-rings on the
shackles and I was spread-eagled, lying against this slightly angled
wall.  Tana came up behind me and ran her hand gently over my back.
"You're going to like this, Ken.  Trust me.  Do you have a safeword?"

     I shook my head.

     "I recommend you use the word 'safeword,' then, since it's pretty
easy to remember."

     I nodded.  "Are you sure you're ready?" she asked again.

     "No..." I said.  "But I want to try this anyway."

     "Good," she smiled.  "Now I'm going to start out lightly.  It's
just going to slap.  It might sting just a little, but mostly it's just
to make a loud noise."

     I nodded. "I'm ready."  My hands gripped the bars tightly.

     "Okay... now remember to relax."

     "I will," I promised.

     She took her place behind me, and I heard the 'whish' of eighteen
leather tails go by.  Then the second one connected.

     It didn't hurt at all.  She barely stroked my back with it.  But
what did happen, and what I did feel, was every muscle in my lower back
tense up.  "Feel that?" she said.  I nodded.  "That's a normal reaction.
You're subconciously protecting your soft center, where your kidneys
are.  Trust me, Ken.  You have to trust me enough to relax completely,
or you're not going to enjoy this."

     I snorted a breif laugh.  I didn't think I was going to enjoy this
anyway.  The whip fell again, this time actually connecting with some
force.  It snapped, and there was a light stinging sensation over my
shoulderblades.

     And again the whip fell.  Tarrette stood in front of me, between
the bars.  "Breathe easy," she said.

     My back stopped tensing after a few strikes, and I lay down against
the rack, restrained, naked, off-balance.  The whip fell again, and I
waited for the next impact.

     "Ken," I heard Tana's voice behind me, the soft fur on the back of
her paw against my skin, "I'm going to take it up a notch."

     I nodded.  "I'm ready."

     I heard gentle footsteps as she walked back behind me, took aim and
lowered another lash, lightly.  Although she put less strength behind
that one then she had the last ones with the other whip, I could feel
the heavier strength of the material.  Then she began in earnest.

     The whip came down, hard, and I felt pain.  But somehow, I wanted
to fight through it.  Yes, there was pride there, pride in my ability to
take what she was giving out.

     The whip came again, hitting another spot on my back.  I start to
feel a little "spaced out," a little dizzy as the whip fell again.  And
again.  Then Tana was behind me, pressing herself against me.  "Ken?"

     "Hmm?"

     "You okay?"

     "It's nice," I lied.  Or was I lying?  I didn't really hurt... It
didn't scare me anymore.  "I think... I'm starting to hyperventilate.
Hands and feet are okay, but I'm starting to feel kind tingly."

     "Breathe deep, Ken.  Take slow, deep breaths."

     "I'm okay."

     "I'm going up."

     "'Kay," I said, looking into her eyes.  She smiled- it had to be
one of the prettiest smiles I've ever seen on a femFel.

     Again, she started light.  Sometimes she would choose a target
other than my back, like my buttocks or thighs, always avoiding the
kidney region, but usually she took shots directly at my shoulders and
back.  She really did start to lay into me, hard, so hard that I thought
I was going to lose skin from her whips.

     And she started to whip me even harder.  And... I giggled.  I
laughed.  I started to laugh uncontrollably as the whip fell onto my
back again and again.  And suddenly Tana was standing behind me,
pressing against me.  Her palm fell against my skin.

     That hurt worse than the whips, that slap of her paw.  And then
again, she slapped my back.  I moaned against the rack.

     I felt her fingertips against my skin, and I felt her claws extrude
slowly from them, against my back, five dangerous pinpricks against my
ravaged shoulders.  She pulled down.

     I howled!  The pain, the sensation was excrutiating, incredible!  I
was sure she was ripping the very skin off my body.  She repeated her
clawing with the other hand, on the other side, even before the first
had finished it's downward path.  And again I screamed.

     And then she stopped, leaning against me.  "I think you've had
enough."

     "Aw."  Did I really say that?  Did I really just ask for _more_?
She chuckled gently and said, "You liked it, didn't you?"

     I nodded.  "Yeah... wow.  That was... intense."

     "I know."  She reached over and quick-released the arm restraints,
then the legs.  "Don't get up," she ordered gently.  "Just lay there and 
take it careful."

     I waited.  "When you think you can, I want you to walk over to the
bench to your left and sit down," she said.  "I'll have something for
you to drink when you get there.  If you think that time is now, I'm
here to catch you if it isn't."

     I smiled at her careful wording.  Being the cocky bastard that I
am, of course I thought the time is now.  I pushed myself into a
standing position and took five steps towards the bench.  I turned
around and began to sit down, slowly.  About halfway down I lost all
control and fell the rest of the distance, landing with a hard >whumph<.

     Tana chuckled and held out a a glass of water.  I remember smiling
at her, ignoring the glass, and leaning over slowly, carefully willing
every recalitrant muscle in my legs and arms to crouch into a kneeling
position and place one soft kiss on her foot.  I heard Tarrette chuckle
and say "That one last dramatic gesture."

     I don't remember anything for the next ten minutes, really, except
that I felt *wonderful*, more alive than I had in a long time.  Tarrette
later told me I babbled incessantly about how pretty everything was,
especially the lights.  She walked me home.

     I stepped into my home late at night, with nobody around.  At
least, I didn't think anyone was around.  "Hello?" I sang quietly as I
stepped in.

     "Ssshhh," Tarrette ordered me.  "I think Nyss would be asleep right
now!"

     "Probably," I agreed.  I wandered into the kitchen, got myself a
tall glass of milk, and sat down on the couch.

     "How do you feel?"

     "Exhausted," I admitted.  "Wonderful."

     "Did you learn anything?"

     I blinked.  "That's a strange question," I returned.  "But... yeah,
I did.  I learned that we didn't come anywhere near my limits.  I could
have gone on forever up there, the way I felt.  I learned that you all
aren't entirely crazy, that there is a reason for what you do.  And I
learned that I have my pride, and it's a weakness, and I probably won't
be back at Rhysh anytime soon."

     "At least not until your back heals," Tarrette' offered.

     "No, not even then.  Probably not for years, Tarrette'.  What
happened tonight is something I have to... sort out, if you will.
Especially the... arrogant pride.  That can't be healthy."

     "Or that could be what you're there for."

     "I wasn't trying to prove anything to Tana, or to you."

     She smiled.  "But you were to yourself, right?  I have to ask, is
that so bad, Ken?  After all, you're there for yourself, not for anybody
else.  Not even Tana.  You're just another back she gets to hurt."

     I chuckled.  "You make it sound so romantic."

     "It can be," she said.  "Think about how what you went through can
be a gift between lovers."  She paused.  "Make sure you call Tana and
tell her your okay.  Either today or tomorrow."

     I nodded.  "I will."

     She nodded.  "Then I'll leave you to go to bed."  She turned and
started to walk towards the front door.

     "Tarrette'!" I called softly. 

     She turned back.  I smiled to her and said, "Thanks."

     "No, Ken... thank you."

     "Goodnight."

     "G'night, Ken.  Be seeing you."

     The door closed behind her.  I made my way down to bed, snuggled
close to my chosen mate, P'nyssa, (who, as usual, barely noticed my
coming to bed late yet again), and slept exhausted, satisfied, and
dreamlessly deep.  

--
"Building Castles"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., And Related Tales
are (c) 1989, 1990 Elf Matheiu Sternberg.  May be freely distributed by
cybernetic media; hardcopies are limited to single printings for
personal use.
-- 
 __   Eagles soar, but weasels never get sucked into jet engines.   __
 \/                                                                 \/
                            Elf Sternberg
    elf@halcyon.com    elf%polari@uunet.uu.net   elf@seanews.wa.com