Starplex

"But have you contemplated the ramifications of that?" asked the Ib. "It means that four out of every five males end up without a mate — end up being excluded from the gene pool. Perhaps you had to fend off some other suitors in your pursuit of Clarissa — or maybe she had to fend off others who were pursuing you; forgive me, but I've no idea how these things work. But I imagine in such contests it was a comfort to all the participants to know that for each male there was a female, and vice versa. Oh, the pairings might not end up as one might wish, but the chances were good that each man would find a woman, and vice versa — or a mate of their own gender, if that was their preference."

Keith moved his shoulders. "I suppose."

"But for Jag's people, that is not the case. Females have absolute power in their society. Every single one of them is — courted, I believe is the word — by five males, and the female, when she reaches estrus at thirty years of age, will pick her one mate from the five who have spent the last twenty-five years vying for her attentions. You know Jag's full name?"

Keith thought for a moment. "Jag Kandaro em-Pelsh, isn't it?"

"That's right. Do you know its derivation?"

He shook his head.

"Kandaro is a regional designation," said Rhombus. "It refers to the province Jag traces lineage to. And Pelsh is the name of the female of whose entourage he is a member.

She's quite a significant power on Rehbollo, actually. Not only is she a famous mathematician, she's also a niece of Queen Trath. I met Pelsh once, while attending a conference. She's charming, intelligent — and about twice Jag's size, as are all adult Waldahud females."

Keith contemplated a mental picture, but said nothing.

"Do you see?" asked Rhombus. "Jag has to make his mark. He has to distinguish himself from the other four males in her entourage if he is to be chosen. Everything a premating Waldahud male does is geared toward making him stand out. Jag came aboard Starplex looking for glory enough to earn him Pelsh's affection… and he's going to find that glory, no matter how hard he has to push."

That night, lying in bed, Keith rolled onto his back.

All his life, he'd had trouble sleeping — despite the advice people had given him over the years. He never drank caffeinated beverages after 18:00. He had PHANTOM play white noise through the bedroom speakers, drowning out the sound of Rissa's occasional snoring. And although there was a digital-clock display built into his night table, he'd covered its readout with a little square of plastic card slipped into a join between the pieces of wood composing the table.

Staring at a clock, worrying about how late it was, about how little sleep he was going to get before morning came, was counterproductive.

Oh, he could see the clock face when standing in the bedroom, and he could always reach over and bend down the plastic card to look at it in bed if he was really curious, but it helped.

Sometimes, that is. But not tonight.

Tonight, he tossed and turned.

Tonight, he relived the encounter in the corridor with Jag.

Jag. Perfect name for the bastard.

Keith rolled onto his left side.

Jag was currently running a series of professional-development seminars for those Starplex staff members who wanted to know more physics; Rissa was running a similar series for those who wanted to learn some more biology.

Keith had always been fascinated by physics. Indeed, while taking a range of sciences in his first year at university, he'd thought seriously about becoming a physicist.

So much neat stuff — like the anthropic principle, which said that the universe had to give rise to intelligent life. And Schredinger's cat, a thought experiment that demonstrated that it was the act of observing that actually shaped reality. And all the wonderful twists and turns to Einstein's special and general theories of relativity.

Keith loved Einstein — loved him for his fusion of humanity and intellect, for his wild hair, for his own knight-errant quest to try to put the nuclear genie he'd made possible back into the bottle. Even after choosing sociology as his major, Keith had still kept a poster of the grand old man of physics on his dorm wall. He would enjoy taking some physics seminars… but not with Jag. Life was too short for that.

He thought about what Rhombus had said about Waldahud family life — and that turned his mind to his older sister Rosalind and younger brother Brian.