Nigel made his slow way along a rocky corridor. He preferred the low-g sections of the ship, where a stumble could be turned into a slight imbalance, rather than a resounding, bone-splintering crash. Crew members passed him easily, since he moved with deliberate caution. He recognized few of them now. He had spent most of the voyage from Isis working by himself, and the faces he saw no longer called up automatic names and associations. But one did catch his attention and he slowed, reached out—
“Nigel,” the man said, “I didn’t want it to come like this. I need a few weeks more of, of getting used to—”
Then it struck him. The similarities were too close, and yet—
“Carlotta!”
“Honestly, I was going to leave a letter for you and Nikka, but at the last minute, somehow I couldn’t get it down right and—”
“You’ve, you’ve …” Carlotta had the same wiry build, but the softening curves were gone, replaced by slabs of muscle. The face was more chunky, but beneath the changes he had instantly seen the same bone structure. The muscles still gave the same slightly askew smile, the backward tilt to the head when she spoke.
“Let’s get away from here. I can see you—Well, we need to talk.” Her voice was a deeper version of the familiar Californian accent.
He followed her, confused and inarticulate. They sat in a bower overlooking Lurkey’s brimming yellow vat. Carlotta spoke simply, slowly, detailing her reasons. He could not follow much of what she meant. When she began to speak of Nikka it became clearer to him.
“There is a thing between men and women,” Carlotta said. “Not deeper, maybe, but certainly different from the relationship of women to each other, no matter how hard you try to make it—” She stopped. “I’m not getting through, am I ?”
“I … You seem to be saying, indirectly, that you’ve done this because of Nikka? That you’re my rival, now?”
“Bad choice of words. But if you want it that way, then, yes. I always was.”
“But you and me, we slept together—”
“So did Nikka and I.”
“You understood … I mean, ’I knew, that was all right.”
“Yes. But—”
“I’ve got nothing against it. Look, Ted Landon’s been sleeping with some guy in BioEngineering for years, and it never undermined his position. Nobody gives a damn anymore.”
“You’re saying that’s okay, but what I’ve just done—”
“That’s different.”
“I knew you wouldn’t—”
“How could you expect me to—”
“Wait. Just wait, Nigel. Look, on a long expedition like this, what’s the point of being a woman? Having kids takes too much time, and anyway shipboard population shouldn’t be increased beyond—”
“Theoretical reasons.”
“Okay. I want to be in charge of, of a relationship. Not just helpful and supportive. And I wanted to try it. See what being a man—”
“Ummmm.”
“That damned ‘ummmm’ of yours! Sitting back, judging—a very male noise, Nigel. Well, I want to make that noise, too.” He made a sound halfway between a murmur and a grunt.
Nigel smiled slightly. “Carlotta, there’s more to—”
“Carlos.”
Something in the tone of the word made Nigel stiffen. “If you’re going to come between Nikka and me, I—”
“I wasn’t between you before?”
“Not this way, not—”
“Not as a ‘rival,’ as you so charmingly put it?”
“You’re twisting what I say.”
“Not as much as you think, what you really think.”
Nigel said coldly, “That remains—”
“Notice how much of a confrontation this has turned into? Two men, not giving an inch.”
“Why should I give—”
“You don’t have to. I’m not changing everything. We’ll still have a loose triangle. My relationship with Nikka will be different, but there’s no reason—”
“No. I don’t like it.”
“I want to, to face the world with a new persona. Try out this heavy, bulky body. You have no idea how it is.” Carlos rolled his thick shoulder muscles experimentally.
Despite himself, Nigel asked, “How different … is it?”
Carlos smiled in a friendly way. “Very.”
Carlos began to see Nikka, but never in Nigel’s company. Nikka found Carlos attractive, and Nigel could find no reason why he should object to her using the privileges they had always accorded each other. Their relationship had never been completely binding, after all. But the theoretical perspective did nothing to alter his deeply smoldering feelings of anger and, yes, envy. Carlos was younger and more vibrant, that was part of his appeal. He easily slipped into the fast pace of preparations for exploring the Ross system. Nigel spent time on the analysis net, but if anything it made him more withdrawn.
He spoke with Nikka about it. To her the facts were plain and, in the light of medicosurgery, unexceptional. Freedom to alter one’s sex was as basic as any other right. Nigel could accept this theoretically, but he came to an abrupt halt at the specific case of Carlos. There was something to the entire issue that set his teeth on edge, something beyond simple rivalry, and yet he could not get a sure grip on it. When he spoke his throat seemed to get tight, his voice dry and scratchy.
It was confusing to him, particularly since no one else, even Nikka, appeared to take the emergence of Carlos as more than a passing, mildly interesting bit of gossip. It cropped up in conversation among their friends for a week or so, and then vanished in the general hubbub about Ross 128.