Martin looked at him indifferently.
“You asked me, didn’t you, if I was queer; and although you’re deathly afraid of it yourself, you hold such people in contempt. Did you think I was going to deny it as though it were intrinsically a shameful thing?”
“You say it ain’t shameful?” said Rio, not changing his position.
“It exists,” went on Martin calmly. “It’s part of life. It has its particular and its important position in the world. It has its stages and its stratas. Thus it is, Rio—this force was created.”
“Created for what?” demanded Rio. “For nightmares?” He wiped away the sweat from his forehead.
“No,” said Martin. “Created for balance.”
“‘Balance,’ hell!—those upside down bastards?”
“I didn’t say they were balanced. I don’t know that, because I don’t know where the average begins or ends. I said they were created for balance. A necessary people forming a resilient salient between the rigidity of the sexes.”
“I don’t see it,” said Rio heavily.
“Don’t bother, then,” said Martin. “And don’t make an issue of it. I’ve looked at Carol and seen the reason, the essential purpose of his destiny.”