"14 - Fighting Slave of Gor v2" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norman John)

"What occurred in the confrontation?" I asked.

"There was no confrontation," she said. "The apartment was empty. It was not even furnished. There were no drapes, nothing. The superintendent claimed it had been empty for a week. There was no reason for the officers to disbelieve him. Perhaps he was paid off. Perhaps he was in league with the heavy man. I do not know. The officers, angry, gave me a stern warning about such pranks and let me go. The entire matter has been a pain and an embarrassment to me."

"It certainly seems an elaborate hoax," I said.

"Why would anyone go to such trouble?" she asked.

"I do not know," I said.

"Do you think I have anything to fear?" she asked.

"No," I said, "certainly not." Then I lifted my hand, to call the waiter.

"I must pay half the check and leave half the tip," she said.

"I'll take care of it," I said.

"No," she said, suddenly, irritably. "I will be dependent on a man for nothing."

"Very well," I said. I saw that Miss Henderson had a sharp edge to her. I supposed that a Gorean slave whip, if there were a Gor, would quickly take that out of her.

We then, at the hat-check counter, secured our wraps. The girl behind the counter was blond. She wore a white blouse and a brief, black skirt; her legs, well revealed, were clad in clinging black netting. Miss Henderson received her light cape. She placed a quarter in the small wooden bowl on the counter. I received my coat. I gave the girl a dollar. She had lovely legs. She had a pretty smile. She pleased me. "Thank you, Sir," she said. "You're welcome," I said.

"Scandalous how some women exploit their bodies," said Beverly, when we had stepped away from the counter.

"She was very pretty," I said.

"I suppose you would not mind owning her," said Beverly.

"No," I said, "I wouldn't mind owning her at all. She might be very pleasant to own."

"All men are monsters," said Beverly.

I donned my coat. She held her wrap.

"Why are you dressed as you are tonight?" I asked. "Are you not frightened that some of your "sisters" in your department will see you? Can you afford the risk?"

She seemed momentarily apprehensive. I had been joking. Then I saw that it was not truly a joke. One student can, subtly, belittle and undermine another student in the eyes of her peers and in the eyes of the faculty. It can be done with apparent innocence in the dialogue in a seminar, by an apparently chance remark at a coffee or tea, even by an expression or a movement of the body in a classroom or a hall. The rules for conformance and the sanctions against difference are seldom explicit; indeed, it is commonly denied that there are such rules and sanctions. They are reasonably obvious, however, to those familiar with the psychology of groups. Such things, unfortunately, can ruin graduate careers. Most obviously they can be reflected in the evaluations of the student's work and in his letters of recommendation, particularly those written by strict professors of the correct political persuasions, whatever they happen to be at the particular institution in question.

"Surely it is all right," she said, "for a woman, sometimes, to be a little feminine."

"Perhaps," I said. "The question is indeed a thorny one."

"I have heard it debated," she said.

"Are you joking?" I asked. I had thought I had been joking.

"No," she said.