Of the walking grubs (who call themselves "people") there are two
kinds, and they place great emphasis on the difference. From this stems
a large part of their difficulties. This distinction, which is one
of polarity, cuts quite across the years and ability and station of
life. It is not confined only to the people grubs, but also involves
apparently all the beings on the planet Florida.
It appears that a person is committed to one or the other polarity
at the beginning of life, maintaining that polarity until death. The
interlocking attraction-repulsion complex set up by these two opposable
types has deep emotional involvements. It is the cause of considerable
concern and disturbance, as well as desire and inspiration. There is a
sort of poetic penumbra about the whole thing that tends to disguise
its basic simplicity, expressible as a simultaneous polarity equation.
Complete segregation of the two types seems impossible. If it has ever
been tried, it has now evidently been abandoned as impractical.
There is indeed an intangible difference between the two types, so that
before that first day at the Reptile Ranch was finished, I was able to
differentiate between the two more than ninety per cent of the time.
The knowledge of this difference in polarity seems to be intuitive.
These two I will call the Beta and Gamma, or Boy and Girl, types. I
began to see that this opposability of the two types was one of the
great driving forces of the people.
In the evening I was transported to the night club and I was a
success. I would not entertain them with blue jokes or blue lyrics,
but the patrons seemed fascinated by my simple imitations of all
the instruments of the orchestra and my singing of comic ballads
that Eustace had taught me in odd moments that day. They were also
interested in the way that I drank gin--that is, emptying the bottle
without breaking the seal. (It seems that the grub-people are unable to
absorb a liquid without making direct contact with it.)
And I met Margaret, one of the "girl" singers.
I had been wondering to which type of people I might show affinity. Now
I knew. I was definitely a Beta type, for I was attracted to Margaret,
who was unmistakably a Gamma. I began to understand the queer effect
that these types have on each other.
She came over to my cage.
"I want to rub your head for good luck before I go on," she said.
"Thank you, Margaret," I replied, "but that is not my head."
She sang with incomparable sadness, with all the sorrow and sordidness
that appear to be the lot of unfortunate Gammas. It was the essence of
melancholy made into music. It was a little bit like the ghost music on
the asteroid Artemis, a little like the death chants on Dolmena. Sex
and sorrow. Nostalgia. Regret.
Her singing shook me with a yearning that had no precedent.
She came back to my cage.
"You were wonderful, Margaret," I said.
"I'm always wonderful when I'm singing for my supper. I am less
wonderful in the rare times that I am well fed. But are you happy,
little buddy?"
"I had become almost so, till I heard you sing. Now I am overcome with
sorrow and longing. Margaret, I am fascinated with you."
"I go for you too, blob. You're my buddy. Isn't it funny that the only
buddy I have in the world is a blob? But if you'd seen some of the guys
I've been married to--boy! I wouldn't insult you by calling them blobs.
Have to go now. See you tomorrow night--if they keep us both on."
* * * * *
Now there was a problem to face. It was necessary that I establish
control over my environment, and at once. How else could I aspire to
Margaret?
I knew that the heart of the entire place here was neither the bar nor
the entertainment therein, nor the cuisine, nor the dancing. The heart
of the enterprise was the Casino. Here was the money that mattered; the
rest was but garnish.