The Blind Assassin - Margaret Atwood [170]
Modesty must draw a veil over what happened next.
Must it?
I’ll demonstrate in a minute. It merely needs to be added that Boyd and Will were the only men on Planet Aa’A, so of course these women were virgins. But they could read minds, and each could tell in advance what Will and Boyd might desire. So very soon the most outrageous fantasies of the two friends had been realized.
After that there was a delicious meal of nectar, which, the men were told, would stave off age and death; then there was a stroll in the lovely gardens, which were filled with unimaginable flowers; then the two were taken to a large room full of pipes, from which they could select any pipe they wanted.
Pipes? The kind you smoke?
To go with the slippers, which were issued to them next.
I guess I walked into that one.
You sure did, he said, grinning.
It got better. One of the girls was a sexpot, the other was more serious-minded and could discuss art, literature, and philosophy, not to mention theology. The girls seemed to know which was required of them at any given moment, and would switch around according to the moods and inclinations of Boyd and Will.
And so the time passed in harmony. As the perfect days went by, the men learned more about the Planet of Aa’A. First, no meat was eaten on it, and there were no carnivorous animals, though there were lots of butterflies and singing birds. Need I add that the god worshipped on Aa’A took the form of a huge pumpkin?
Second, there was no birth as such. These women grew on trees, on a stem running into the tops of their heads, and were picked when ripe by their predecessors. Third, there was no death as such. When the time came, each of the Peach Women – to call them by the names by which Boyd and Will soon referred to them – would simply disorganize her molecules, which would then be reassembled via the trees into a new, fresh woman. So the very latest woman was, in substance as well as in form, identical with the very first.
How did they know when the time had come? To disorganize their molecules?
First, by the soft wrinkles their velvety skin would develop when overripe. Second, by the flies.
The flies?
The fruit flies that would hover in clouds around their headdresses of red netting.
This is your idea of a happy story?
Wait. There’s more.
After some time this existence, wonderful though it was, began to pall on Boyd and Will. For one thing, the women kept checking up on them to make sure they were happy. This can get tedious for a fellow. Also, there was nothing these babes wouldn’t do. They were completely shameless, or without shame, whichever. On cue they would display the most whorish behaviour. Slut was hardly the word for them. Or they could become shy and prudish, cringing, modest; they would even weep and scream – that too was on order.
At first Will and Boyd found this exciting, but after a while it began to irritate.
When you hit the women, no blood came out, only juice. When you hit them harder, they dissolved into sweet mushy pulp, which pretty soon became another Peach Woman. They didn’t appear to experience pain, as such, and Will and Boyd began to wonder whether they experienced pleasure either. Had all the ecstasy been a put-on show?
When questioned about this, the gals were smiling and evasive. You could never get to the bottom of them.
You know what I’d like right about now? said Will one fine day.
The same thing I’d like, I bet, said Boyd.
A great big grilled steak, rare, dripping with blood. A big stack of French fries. And a nice cold beer.
Ditto. And then a rip-roaring dogfight with those scaly sons of guns from Xenor.
You got the idea.
They decided to go exploring. Despite having been told that Aa’A was the same in every direction, and that they would only find more trees and more bowers and more birds and butterflies and more luscious women, they set out towards the west. After a long time and no adventures whatsoever, they came up against