Free Humans by Robert J. Sawyer

encounters with women—indeed, it was a common way of dealing with the difficult-to-express notions of what each man found pleasing.
    “No,” said Ponter. He shrugged. “I might have, if a real opportunity had presented itself, but we spent most of our time with Jasmel and Megameg.”
    Adikor nodded, as if Ponter were revealing a vast conspiracy. “The way to win a man’s love is by paying attention to his children.”
    “She is their
tabant,
you know. They are her children in a way, too.”
    Adikor made no reply.
    “So,” said Ponter, at last, “will you forgive her?”
    Adikor looked up at the painting on the room’s ceiling for a time, then: “Ironic, isn’t it? This issue between you and me now exists only because of your kindness to me all those ten-months ago. If you had made a public accusation after what I did to you, I would have been castrated back then. Had that been done, I would have had no testicles for Daklar to come after in your absence.” He lifted his shoulders. “I have no choice but to forgive her, since you wish it.”
    “You have a choice,” said Ponter.
    “As did you, all those months ago.” Adikor nodded. “I will forgive her.”
    “You are a good man,” said Ponter.
    Adikor frowned, as if contemplating the platitude. “No,” he said. “No, I am an
adequate
man. But you, my friend…”
    Ponter smiled and rose to his feet. “It’s time I got to work on dinner.”

    Even though Two had just ceased being One, Ponter and Adikor headed back In, back to the Council chamber. The High Grays had announced that they were ready to make a decision about reopening the portal.
    The Council chamber was packed with spectators of both sexes. Adikor looked rather uneasy, and it took Ponter a moment to figure out why. The last time Adikor had seen this chamber when it had been crowded like this, it was being used for the
dooslarm basadlarm
. But Adikor said nothing about his discomfort—after all, to do so would be to again bring up the matter of his unfortunate history with Daklar—and Ponter loved him all the more for that.
    There were eleven Exhibitionists in the audience, dressed in silver. Ponter had never quite gotten used to the Gliksin idea of “news:” a constant reporting—some channels devoted ten tenths a day to it—of bad things happening all over the world. The Companion implants, which had ensured the safety of citizens here for almost a thousand months now, had all but put an end to theft and murder and assault. Still, humans here were equally hungry for information—Ponter had read that gossiping served the same purpose in people as grooming pelts for insects did in other primates, binding them together. And so some citizens made their contribution by allowing the transmissions from their implants to be publicly received by anyone who wished; people tuned their Voyeurs to whichever Exhibitionist they preferred to watch.
    A couple of Exhibitionists always sat in on Council sessions, but the item to be announced today was of wide interest, and even Exhibitionists who normally only attended sporting events or poetry readings were in attendance.
    High Council president Pandaro rose to address the assembled group. She used a carved wooden cane to help support herself as she did so. “We have studied the issues Scholar Huld and Scholar Boddit have put before us,” she said. “And we have pored over Scholar Boddit’s lengthy narrative of his trip to the Gliksin world, and the limited physical evidence we have from it.”
    Ponter fingered the small gold object he sometimes wore around his neck. He’d hated giving it up for analysis, and was delighted to have it back. Mare had handed it to him just before he’d left her world, a pair of overlapping mutually perpendicular gold strips, one longer than the other.
    “And, after this deliberation,” Pandaro continued, “we believe the potential value in gaining access to another version of Earth, and another kind of