Chapter 9: Triad

Chandelle tried to move, but couldn't get going fast enough. It was Penn who got there and caught Lloyd as he sagged to the floor.

"I have killed him!" Shree cried, horrified. "My polluted caress—"

"No you haven't," Llynn said. "You have merely put him in heaven for a while."

"But I am unclean, and I touched him. I despoiled him."

Chandelle stepped in. "This is woman's work," she said to Penn. "You boys go about your business.

Come, Llynn. Come, Shree."

They walked the young woman to the kitchen, and sat her at the table with them. Then Chandelle spoke directly to Shree. "Lloyd will be all right. He's young, and I think never been kissed by a lovely woman.

He will have a crush on you. That can't be helped. But you have not harmed him."

"I should not have—"

"We're Americans," Chandelle said firmly. "We have different beliefs. When a woman is raped, we believe we should punish the man who did it, not the woman. If you can't return to your own culture, you can remain in ours. We don't view you as unclean, merely unfortunate."

Shree shook her head. "It is not so easy."

Surely not. "Yet it is not easy for us to facilitate your suicide, for something we don't believe is your fault."

"It is my fault. I was weak, and now I must die. It is the only way."

For the moment Chandelle was at a loss. She knew she could not change a deeply set cultural belief with a few words, but the idea of allowing this lovely young woman to die appalled her.

"I don't see why you have to kill yourself, when you know it wasn't anything you wanted," Llynn said.

"Can't you see the nonsense of that?"

Shree looked at her. "You are Lloyd's sister?"

"His cousin. We have the same grandparents, Penn and Chandelle."

"You love him?"

Llynn hesitated. "We're not that close. But I wouldn't try to hurt him."

"If he wanted to die, would you let him?"

"No."

"My brother loves me. Therefore he will let me do what I must do."

"But he wanted so much to save you. He risked his own life, and almost lost it, looking for you."

Shree nodded. "I would not have him do that, when I am already lost. Yet he understands." She pondered a moment. "If your cousin wanted to be with me, would you let him?"

"Sure, if you wanted to do something together. Why not?"

"I think that's not exactly what she means," Chandelle said. Kailash was an intelligent, perceptive young man; similar qualities were becoming evident in this young woman.

"Well, what does she mean?" Llynn asked.

"To use me, as a man uses a woman."

That made Llynn pause. She glanced at Chandelle, but Chandelle held her expression neutral. She remembered how the grandchildren had watched the porno show, and been embarrassed when joined by the elders. Which of course had been the intention: to steer them clear without being dictatorial. There was learning to be had, and self-discipline to establish, and meanwhile this allowed more time to figure out how to handle Shree's urge for death.

"That—would not be according to our culture," Llynn said after a moment. "Children aren't supposed to

—to do adult things."

"Even when they are able to feel adult urges?"

"Well, they may feel them, but they could get in a lot of trouble for them. They need to—to learn how to handle them."

"So you would not let your cousin be with me, if I invited him?"

Llynn looked somewhat wildly around, as if seeking help from something in the kitchen. But there was none. This time she avoided Chandelle's eyes, which Chandelle found interesting. "I—guess I would let him. It's his business."

Shree looked at Chandelle. "Would you?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because he's too young."

"Not because I am unclean?"

Now Chandelle saw the point of this. The woman was looking for a parallel to their culture that would justify her wish to kill herself. "No."

"Even though he is old enough, by my culture?"

Oops. She had fallen into it after all. "I suppose, if he were of your culture, it would be all right. But he is not, so he must be guided by his own culture."

Shree nodded. "As I must be guided by mine."

"Now, wait," Llynn said. "I'm of his culture, and I said I would let him."

"And would he let you be with my brother?"

Llynn blushed. Shree had scored again. But she had to answer. "Yes, he would. We're young. We don't necessarily see things the way the older folks do."

"So it is after all a different culture, and you are true to yours."

"Yes."

Shree considered. "If I made a meal of boiled roaches, would you eat it?"

"No way!"

"Even though member of my culture would?"

Chandelle, listening, wondered: did they really boil roaches in the Himalayas, or was Shree bluffing?

Llynn shuddered. "I couldn't stand it."

"So you are unable to violate the dictates of your culture, however irrelevant they may appear to those of another culture."

Llynn raised her hands in surrender. "You're right. You have the right to do what you must. But I sure as hell won't help you."

"Neither will I," Chandelle said.

"Yet if you turn your backs, you know what I will do."

Llynn looked desperately at Chandelle. "Isn't there anything we can say?"

Chandelle tried. "If you do this—this thing—surely you know that you will be bringing grief to those who rescued you from your situation. Do you feel it is right to respond to our good will with your death?"

"I do not like this. But do you not see that by rescuing me, you have enabled me to escape my unbearable shame? You have helped me, and I thank you for it, and I would do you some return favor if I could."

A return favor. There, perhaps, was an avenue. "We might have such a favor to ask. But first, you must explain to us exactly what happened to you that makes you so determined to die. Even in your culture, there must be some mitigating circumstances."

"I do owe you that information," Shree said. "Though I would prefer to tell it to no one."

"We can keep it a secret, if you wish," Llynn said.

"I do so wish."

"Tell us your story," Chandelle said. "How you got into this trap."

Shree paused, evidently nerving herself, then told her story. She had sought good employment in the big city, so as to be able to help her family survive the lean times. But the office in Delhi had turned out to be recruiting for work in a foreign city, Moscow. The pay, however, was significantly better than the ad had indicated, and she turned out to be well qualified. The woman urged her to go to Moscow with her application; the agency would even arrange transportation there, by air. "But I don't speak Russian," she protested. "It doesn't matter; they need secretaries in many languages. Good ones in particular languages are hard to find, and are paid very well." This was simply too good an opportunity to miss, so she agreed, and was immediately conducted to a commercial flight. "But I must tell my family," she said. The woman promised that they would inform Shree's family.

But when she reached the office in Moscow, they told her through a translator that the job was not there, but in Arabia. However, she was indeed well qualified, and the Arabs paid very well. They arranged for her flight to Riyadh the same day; she didn't even have time to dispatch a telephone message to her home village for her family, to update them on this second development. But in Riyadh, she was assured, she would have ample time to relay her good news.

In Arabia she discovered that women had very few rights. She was taken into a soundproof room where a man speaking her language badly told her she was to act as hostess to visiting dignitaries. "Hostess?"

she asked blankly. "You will entertain them and make them happy." "Entertain?" "You will see. Take off your clothes."

She became alarmed. "I think I do not want this job after all." She tried to leave the room, but it was locked. The man snapped his fingers, and two more men entered from a far door she hadn't seen before.

They grabbed her arms and ripped her clothing from her body. She tried to resist, but they simply overpowered her. They forced her to get down on her hands and knees, naked, and they opened panels in the floor to reveal padded leather loops. They tightened these around her wrists and ankles. She was bound to the floor, unable to change position other than to flop uncomfortably forward on the carpet.

One man kneeled behind her and touched her bare bottom. "This man wishes to make love to you," the interviewer said. "Do you agree?"

"No!" Shree cried, flopping forward.

The other man leaned over and lifted her torso so that she was again on hands and knees. Then he brought a metal box, and taped wires from it to her wrists. "Prepare yourself," the interviewer said. "This will be painful."

The box buzzed. Electric current surged through her body from wrist to wrist. She stiffened in absolute agony, unable even to breathe. After a moment it stopped, and she collapsed, gasping for breath.

"This is the penalty for refusal," the interviewer said. "I ask you again: do you agree to let this man penetrate you?"

"No," she cried again. But the word was hardly out before the current flowed again, stiffening her in agony. She could not take much more of this.

The man kept asking, and the current kept returning, until finally she could no longer endure the pain.

"Yes," she sobbed. She hated it, but realized that they would kill her in this dreadful manner if she did not say the words they demanded.

To her dull surprise, the man did not do it. Instead, the wires were removed, and the straps were loosened. She was helped up, and her battered clothing was returned. "I think this is sufficient for today,"

the interviewer said. "Tomorrow I shall question you again, and if you fail to say yes, you will be treated with the wires again. Then, when you agree, my friend will use you, for you will have forfeited our grace by reneging. Only when you obey without question will you be free of pain. Do you understand?"

Now she did understand. She would do whatever these people asked of her, or they would torture her.

"Yes," she said brokenly. "But why?"

"Because you are beautiful, and there is a market. Perform well, and you will be well treated. You can have a good life here, and generous money will be sent to your home. But you will perform."

"And so it was," she concluded. "I performed well. I could not face the torture. And they were sending the money to my family. So you see, I was not raped; I agreed to do their bidding, and I gave my body to the men who came to me, with smiles. I betrayed my honor, and now I must die."

"But you were tortured!" Llynn protested.

"I was weak. To save myself from pain, I gave away my soul. I can not bear to see my face in the mirror; I must die."

Chandelle exchanged a glance with Llynn. Should they tell Shree that no money had come to her family?

Even in this, the slavers had betrayed her. "I think perhaps if I had been treated as you were, I would feel much the same," Chandelle said. "But I would not seek to die."

"I would seek revenge," Llynn said grimly.

"Revenge can not recover my honor," Shree said. "Only death can salvage part of it."

And she would not be moved. Chandelle understood that now. But she tried a wild gamble. She was betting that this young woman was as honorable as she seemed, and would react in a certain way. "Give us some time to come to terms with this. Postpone your death a week, and—and I will let Lloyd come to you."

"Grandma!" Llynn cried, shocked.

"This is a matter of honor," Chandelle said. "We are asking her to sacrifice hers, for a time. We must sacrifice ours, for that time."

Shree stared at her. "But I am unclean."

"Lloyd doesn't care about that. We don't care. You can repay us for rescuing you by giving us more time, and making him happy. He can surely learn much from you."

Shree considered, her face frozen. Then she spoke. "Three days, and I will not let him come."

"Agreed," Chandelle said immediately, feeling weak in the knees, for all that she was sitting. Her gamble had paid off: the woman had been impressed enough to yield some ground, and decent enough to avoid a price she knew would hurt the family. "And no one speaks of this, of her story or my offer, to anyone else," she said to Llynn. "Only that there is no present problem."

"Agreed," Llynn whispered, her face ashen. She had seen a side of her grandmother she had never suspected.

"Now we must arrange accommodations," Chandelle said briskly. "I think Shree must share your room, Llynn, and you may show her the things and ways of the house. Kailash will room with Lloyd."

"But Grandma," Llynn said. "What happens after three days?"

"Then Shree will do as she chooses, and we will not interfere. This is our bargain."

Shree nodded. "Thank you, Grandmother Chandelle."

"Now you are surely tired," Chandelle said. "Llynn will show you to her room."

The two young women got up and left the kitchen. Chandelle sat there for a time, letting her emotions ease slowly, like a pressure cooker letting off steam. She had done what she had to do, but this wasn't over, by a long shot. What was to be her next move?

And what about Lloyd? She felt guilty for bringing him into it. She had been casting about for something, anything, to jolt Shree out of the suicide mode, and grasped at a straw she shouldn't have. Lloyd had carried Shree back, and Shree had kissed Lloyd; she was grateful to him and he was smitten with her.

She was a woman with nothing to lose, and he was a willful boy. If they decided to get together, neither parental—grandparental—nor societal disapproval would stop them. So perhaps it was better to bring that into the open. Now she had Shree's commitment to stay clear of the boy, in that respect, and that was good. So maybe she hadn't done such awful wrong there; maybe she had gambled and won.

But the death wish—all else would be nothing, if that could not be abated. She had three days to change it—if she could only figure out how.

She got up and went to the living room. The three males were seated there, evidently having a dialogue of their own. They all looked at her as she entered. "It's all right," she said.

None of them spoke. They knew better.

"We had a—a private discussion," she said, feeling awkward.

"How long?" Kailash asked.

She had to tell. "Three days."

All three relaxed visibly. They had known that Chandelle would try to persuade Shree not to die, but probably had not thought she would succeed.

"And then?" Lloyd asked. He looked as if he had been crying, which of course he would never admit.

He was caught in the throes of sudden love, and if Shree died, he would be desolate. Obsidian, beside him, looked unhappy too.

"I can't say," she said.

"But thereafter, we can't interfere?" Penn asked.

She didn't answer. They had agreed not to talk about their compromise. Chandelle had not thought of what she would say to the others.

"She has not answered," Penn said to the others.

Kailash and Lloyd nodded. They had gotten the message. No interference.

"Llynn and Shree have retired to Llynn's room for the night," Chandelle said. "I suggest that Kailash move in with Lloyd."

"But I had not intended to stay," Kailash protested. "Only to rescue my sister."

"It's okay," Lloyd said. "There's another bed there."

"But it would be imposing."

Penn looked at him. "She's not rescued yet. Give it three days."

"Then what?" Lloyd asked. He looked drawn.

Kailash didn't answer.

But Penn pursued it. "Let's say she changes her mind, and lives. Are you going to take her home?"

"She can't go home," Kailash said.

"We can set you down anywhere in the world," Penn said. "But I don't think we can let the translators go; they don't belong to us. In any event, they would attract attention."

"And even if you had the translators, the people would not understand you," Lloyd said. "You would understand them, but that's all. Unless you went to your own territory."

"Anywhere in India, they would know," Kailash said. "She would be a pariah."

Penn bore down. "So you have three alternatives. One, she dies, and you go home and preserve her reputation. Two, she lives, and you struggle to find somewhere in the world where it is your language but not your culture. Three, you stay with us."

"But you do not owe us this! We can not repay what you have already done. We can not impose further."

"This is not imposition," Penn said. "The house summons those it desires as residents. It summoned us. It summoned you. And I suspect it summoned Shree. She has no life elsewhere, if she lives, and you have no life elsewhere, if she lives. You are free only if she dies. Do you want that?"

"No. Yet what must be, must be."

"I think it must be that the two of you are joining the four of us. To serve the purpose of the house. We can leave, if we want to. You can't."

"This is a very generous interpretation."

"Maybe not entirely," Chandelle said. "Llynn likes you. And Lloyd—"

"I do not wish to interfere with your cultural prerogatives," Kailash said. "This is one reason it would be better for me to go"

Penn gestured with his hands, signaling a certain mixture of emotions. "I think we do not object to Llynn's feeling for you. She could do worse for a man, but is unlikely to do better."

"But the culture—she could never accept mine."

"But could you accept hers?"

Kailash paused. "I think, if it were permitted, I could accept anything about her. But she is young, and—"

"In time she will be less young," Penn said. "If you remain here, you will see that time."

"This is an offer it would be difficult to refuse."

"What about Shree?" Lloyd asked sharply.

"She is eighteen," Chandelle said. "I think you know that she is unlikely to have any romantic interest in you."

"I know. But—"

"If she lives, I think she will be your friend. She does appreciate what you have done for her."

"Okay," he said gladly.

"And it surely would not hurt if you tried to be the kind of person another person could like."

"Yeah. Llynn's teaching me to dance. I can learn more. I don't have to be a brat."

Chandelle turned to Kailash. "Perhaps you will be able to help us find a way to save your sister's life."

"She will not change," he said sadly.

"I'm thinking of the potentials of this house. It has enabled us to do things we never thought were possible. Maybe it has something that will help solve this problem."

"Tell me what to do," he said.

"For now, get some sleep. Tomorrow we will explore the rest of the attic."

That concluded the discussion. They retired to their rooms for the remainder of the night. Penn did not question her privately about her dialogue with Shree and Llynn, but perhaps he had guessed its nature.

In the morning, Chandelle was first up, as usual in this house, and was preparing a breakfast in the kitchen when Shree came down, accompanied by Obsidian. "I thought you would need more rest,"

Chandelle said, surprised.

"I have had quite enough physical rest," Shree said, adjusting the translator at her ear. "They wanted me to be beautiful. It was my spirit they despoiled."

"I understand. Your brother would have spared you that, had he been able. We all would have."

"I know. But it was too late. Why did you intercede for me?"

"I don't want anyone to die without reason," Chandelle said. Then quickly caught herself. "I realize that as you see it, you have reason. But for me—"

"I understand. Is that the whole of it?"

Chandelle paused. This was a perceptive girl. The kind the house wanted to recruit. "No. I know what you have gone through, in a manner."

"I wondered. You do not show it."

"It was a long time ago. I preferred to forget about it."

"Yet you remembered."

"There was a certain similarity that your situation evoked. I had gone to a party where alcohol was served. It was in the punch; I did not realize. I was encouraged to drink a lot of it, and I became—very free. When I realized what was happening, I tried to get away, but could not. Until several of the males had had their way with me. Then they threatened awful things if I ever told, and I was afraid, and never did tell. Except for Penn, before he married me. I never went to another such party."

"You did not kill yourself."

"I did consider it. But that isn't in my culture. So I buried it."

Shree shook her head. "I can not do that."

"I know."

"And the boy. You offered him to me."

Chandelle smiled ruefully. "I shouldn't have done that. I was just trying to find some way to move you."

"I will let him be."

"Just be his friend."

"What I contemplate is not a friendly thing. Better that he have no association with me, these three days."

"That is not possible, in this house."

"You wish to persuade me to live."

"Yes."

"I do not wish you to have an unrealistic hope."

Chandelle looked her in the eyes. "Shree, if you could change your position on this, would you?"

She shrugged. "If you could persuade yourself to eat boiled roaches, would you?"

"Yes! I would do what I had to do. Because there are others affected by what I do. What you contemplate is selfish. When you die, you will be beyond suffering, but the rest of us will suffer.

Especially Lloyd, and your brother."

Shree studied her thoughtfully. "Do you have an avenue for persuasion that does not include using Lloyd?"

"Yes. Will you consider it?"

"For these three days, I will."

Chandelle went to a kitchen drawer and brought out the sheaf of squiggle papers. "The secrets of this house are here. I can read these better than the others can, but there are still things I don't understand. I hope there is something here for you. I don't know what. I just don't want to believe that this house could have brought you here, only to die. It must have something."

"Perhaps so." But she was merely being polite.

"The top sheet is the first of the devices we haven't yet figured out. See if you can comprehend the symbols."

Shree looked at the top sheet of squiggles. "These mean nothing to me."

Chandelle had a sudden, wild notion. "Take off the translator. Look at them with your natural eye."

Shree removed the translator and set it on the table. She looked again at the paper. After a moment she looked up. "Yes, now I can read it. This describes a trainer, greatly facilitating learning."

"You can read it!" Chandelle exclaimed. "Just like that!"

Shree looked blankly at her.

"Oh, of course. You don't understand me, without your translator. But I understand you. Keep reading."

Shree lifted the translator to her ear.

"Keep reading," Chandelle repeated.

"Yes," Shree agreed, setting down the device. She looked at the next page. "This describes a persuader.

With it, a person can influence others to do what he wishes."

"That could be useful, on occasion," Chandelle said. "But we prefer that others see the reason in our wishes, rather than being blindly influenced." She realized that Shree could not understand her now, but it was easier to express herself anyway. This was wonderful; the girl could read with much greater facility than Chandelle could. With her help they might unriddle the remaining secrets of the house in short order.

Shree looked at a third page. "This describes a reconciler. With it, the wearer becomes reconciled to what must be, even if he thought it impossible before."

She looked up, meeting Chandelle's gaze. "You wish me to become reconciled to life."

Chandelle nodded.

Shree returned the translator to her ear. "I do not believe this can be effective. But I will try it. Let us find this device."

They followed the dog to the attic, which Shree had not seen before. Chandelle explained the mechanism of the stairway, and the girl was suitably impressed. In the attic Shree removed her translator again, and quickly found the device they sought. It was a green headband, stretchable and quite unprepossessing.

Shree put it on. "I will live."

"What?"

Shree was not wearing the translator, but Chandelle's surprise was clear enough. "I can now accept what my reason indicates should be accepted. If I am to join your group, in this house, I must put aside my former culture and live. This I shall do."

"Just like that? No time for consideration?"

Shree removed the band and donned the translator. "I think you should try this," she said.

Fair enough. Chandelle put on the band.

A new universe opened out to her. It was as if she had a new consciousness, above the other parts of her mind. She looked on all things rationally, without emotion. She could do anything she deemed necessary. If it seemed appropriate to kill a person, she could do that. She would have no problem with boiled roaches.

She removed the band—and then was appalled. "That's an alien mind," she said. "No emotions, just practical considerations."

Shree nodded. "I will wear it, if you wish me to. But should I remove it, I will seek again to die."

"But if you wear this, you will not be yourself. You might as well be a living robot."

"Perhaps after a time I will no longer need it. Its logic is convincing."

Chandelle set the band on her head again. "Yes, wear it," she said. She removed it and handed it over.

Shree took it and put it on. "The others will not readily accept this," she said.

"I'm not at all sure I like it myself. When I put it on, it makes sense, but when I take it off, my upbringing returns."

"That is why it is effective. It suppresses nature."

They descended the stairs, returning to the house proper. The others were now up and around, curious about what was going on.

"We discovered three tools," Shree informed them. "I am wearing one, and I will remain with you while I wear it, as it makes me utterly rational. I will not be demonstrating emotion or other human foibles, however."

The menfolk exchanged a glance. "What are the other two tools?" Penn asked.

"One enables the user to persuade others of things, even against their preferences. The other enables people to learn and train effectively, especially when the necessary discipline is complicated."

"These are dangerous tools," Kailash said. "They could cause much mischief if misused."

"Of course. Is it our purpose to misuse them?"

Kailash looked at her. "You are different. Your mind is not the one I have known."

She removed the green band and proffered it to him. "I recommend that you try it."

He put it on. "This brings unprecedented clarity of thought," he said. He took it off and gave it to Penn.

Penn hesitated, then tried it. "This is remarkable. I have never had a clearer perspective." He removed it and gave it to Lloyd.

Lloyd was evidently good and curious by this time. He donned the band. "This must be adult life," he said. "I have no juvenile emotions, only clarity of thought." He removed it and gave it to Llynn.

Llynn held the band. Then she handed it back to Shree without trying it. "I'll stick with my own mind, thank you," she said.

"Perhaps that is just as well," Chandelle said. "We are not machines."

Shree put it on. "If I return to my own mind, I will die. But I see now that this is not advisable at this time. We do not yet know the purpose of this house, and we should learn it before any of us do anything that is not reversible."

Penn shrugged. "I'm beginning to wonder whether this is a bargain with the devil."

Chandelle has a similar misgiving. They had found an answer to the problem of Shree's deathwish, but was this the best answer? She wished she could be sure, one way or the other.