Cautionary Tales (30 page)

She called the number and got an appointment. The woman who interviewed her was very nice, even inquiring what kind of job Lea had imagined as ideal, and Lea told her. “Of course that's just fantasy,” she confessed. “Much as I'd adore it, I don't really expect anything like that.”

“Oh, but the position
is
like that,” the woman said warmly. “And you seem to be perfect. When can you start?”

Talk of dreams coming true!

In two days Lea was ready to report for work. She had cleared her absence with her folks by means of no really strenuous white lies, packed her things, and come to the house. She stepped inside, and saw an odd green melon or gourd sitting on a shelf at about eye level. It had a little hole in the end. She peeked in.

The zygote was conveyed to the cage of a third human woman. She was naked, but it seemed that she had been recently clothed, because the skin of one slender wrist was faded where a band might have been, her plump buttocks were much lighter than her legs, her young breasts bore the fading indentations of a supportive garment, and her small feet showed no sign of calluses. She was clamped and disinfected, and an instrument inserted into her virginal vagina and her cervix for dilation. The zygote was fastened to the inner wall of the uterus. Then the instruments withdrew and she was released.

This young woman did not scream or try to resist. She was passive. In fact she seemed to be unconscious. One eye was closed; the other was locked on a little hole in a green gourd. The gourd was set in a framework near the top of the cage, at eye level. Sometimes the woman's lips moved, as if she were subvocalizing. It was as if she were dreaming, and unable to wake. She did not seem to be unhappy, merely oblivious. Even when all of her bodily hair was shaved away, including her nice long tresses above and her pubic region below, causing her to resemble a mannequin.

It was lovely on the Fantasy Cruise ship. It had something like thirteen decks, with a pool on each one, as well as a restaurant and ballroom. Lea had a cabin near her employer's suite, which she shared with four-year-old Junior, who was a remarkably well behaved little boy. She had to see that he was safely in bed by eight P.M. and up by eight A.M., breakfasted and appropriately dressed. She was free to go out on her own while Junior slept, to converse with other passengers, to dance, and to flirt, provided she did nothing to bring discredit on her employer. She had a credit card good for any food or incidentals, which her employer covered without debiting her pay as long as she did not abuse it. She carried a beeper which would signal her if Junior woke and needed her, or if he left his bed. She could also use it to signal her employer if there were any problem she couldn't handle. It was, she had to agree, an easy yoke she wore.

Meanwhile the ship was traveling. Miami, Jamaica, Panama, with pleasant tourist stops at each key port. At first Junior spent the days with his parents, but Lea got along with him so well that increasingly he preferred to see the sights with her. Because they were unwilling to let him leave the ship without them, Lea had to join them for such excursions. Not only did that mean that they found it necessary to buy her more elaborate clothing, so as to maintain appearances, and to treat her somewhat like a family member, it meant she would be paid for the extra hours. “We had intended to provide you more free time,” her employer explained somewhat apologetically. But she enjoyed her “on” time as much as her “off” time, so she had no complaints.

An example of the joys of “on” time occurred near the South American continent. There was a special deck reserved for the most affluent clients. Lea had to bring Junior there so he could get a better view of the locks of the Panama Canal. But she was challenged at the entry stair. “I don't see your name on the list,” the steward said brusquely.

“But I have to take—”

“Get out of here before I throw you out, girl.”

Junior looked up at her, smiling. “Use the beeper,” he suggested.

Lea did. She beeped her employer. Just once, not pushing her luck. In a surprisingly brief time the ship's captain appeared. “What seems to be the problem?” he inquired gruffly.

“This idiot girl and brat tried to sneak onto the reserve deck.”

The captain glanced at Junior, who wore a name tag. He turned to the steward. “You are new here, so I will allow this to pass. But if you make another mistake of this nature, you will be summarily dismissed.” Her turned to Lea as the steward's jaw dropped. “I shall be pleased to conduct you and Junior to the deck; you are expected.”

“See?” Junior said, smirking. “The captain's my buddy.”

“True,” the captain said, gallantly offering Lea his arm. He escorted the two of them in style to the deck, where the employer waited with just the hint of a smile. He had evidently fathomed the problem, and taken the necessary action.

No steward challenged Lea again, ever, not even when she was alone. This was just as well, because despite her excellent life she often did not feel well in the mornings. Sometimes she had to make a fast break for the nearest lavatory, whether it was reserved for passenger or crew. She saw the ship's head doctor, who suggested that it was nothing serious, probably just a touch of seasickness. Reassured, she tided through, and usually felt better later in the day.

Sometimes the woman smiled, as if enjoying something. Her eye remained fixed on the gourd, whether waking or sleeping. But she had to be fed, exercised and cleaned regularly. At appropriate intervals the clamps came on and tubes were inserted into oral, urethral and anal orifices to bring nutrients to her stomach and convey away urinary and fecal wastes. Regular enemas made certain there were no stoppages. Between times she was exercised: her body was supported so that her head did not move from the vicinity of the gourd while mild electric prods caused the muscles of her body to flex repeatedly, sustaining muscle tone. Her hair was beginning to grow back, and it was disinfected.

As her pregnancy advanced, her breasts expanded and her stomach began to react. On occasion she vomited. The machines promptly cleaned her up and reinserted the nutrients. They kept her upright so that it was impossible to choke on the emerging fluid. They continued the specified exercise program. The body remained healthy. All was in order.

Down the west coast of South America for a week at Santiago, Chile, with offshoot tours of one of the least known outposts of the Inca empire. Onward to Antarctica to admire the walls of ice and trek across a large iceberg, admiring the penguins. Lea's siege of morning queasiness passed, but she felt oddly heavy, as if she had gained weight. The mirror showed that her figure remained perfectly trim. It was funny how she got these weird notions.

Meanwhile she was closer than ever to her employer and his wife. Once he summoned her to his suite when she knew that Junior and his mother were elsewhere on the ship, and she had a passing qualm. Sometimes more was expected of employees than was proper. But it was all right: he was holding the cellular phone. “Your family is inquiring; speak to them,” he said, and departed, leaving her with the phone. She was making an international call! She reassured her mother that everything was fine, and that their next port was to be at New Zealand, and then Melbourne, Australia, with a side jaunt to Tasmania. She was learning a lot of geography, and loving every minute of it.

Machines monitored the developing fetuses. The host's blood was tested, and instruments measured every aspect of the situation. If any problem manifested, any deviance from the specification, the foeti would be summarily aborted and new ones implanted. But all was in order. The regimen continued.

Singapore, Bombay, Cairo, with leisurely pauses and side excursions all along the way. Lea was coming to feel like a seasoned world traveler—as indeed she was. Then on through the Mediterranean Sea. She had toured the Atlantic, the Pacific and the Indian oceans, and was coming to the underside of Europe, having crossed three quarters of the globe. She and Junior were almost inseparable. She began to fear how it would be when the cruise ended and they had to part.

She was feeling positively ponderous. It was illusory, of course, because she hadn't gained a pound, and she moved as well as she ever had. Often she swam in one of the pools, and she remained sleek in a swimsuit. She was popular with the athletic young men on the cruise, though none attempted to take unwarranted liberties. Could her problem be some sort of guilt at the sheer joy of her current life? Her unconscious mind punishing her by making her feel elephantine? Yet she wasn't aware of any guilt. She had been hired to do a job, and she was doing it well; everyone said so. So she tried to put aside her peculiar sensations, lest she be considered crazy. Certainly her private feeling seemed irrational.

In the late stages the host was floated in a vat of warm water, so that she wouldn't develop bedsores from continual confinement. The machines and probes caused her to exercise by making swimming motions with her arms and legs. Special attention was paid to her abdominal musculature, so as to facilitate natural parturition. The machines could cut the babies out of her body readily enough, but that entailed further delay for healing. Nature's way was best, in those instances when it was feasible.

Lea took to swimming more often, and to soaking in a hot tub. That took the imaginary weight from her body. Junior liked to splash in the water, too, so that was fine.

They came to Crete and toured the ruins of the palace of Knossos, and visited the blasted remains of the isle of Thera, whose volcanic destruction had devastated the Minoan empire and precipitated the legend of Atlantis. Then Rome, where they toured the Vatican City and saw the Pope. Lisbon, and Paris, whose sights were such that they remained in the vicinity for almost a month, with a special bus ferrying them constantly to and from the ship.

Coincidentally, somewhere between London and Dublin, Lea suffered a sudden, intense siege of illness. It was as if she had swollen so hugely that she could neither walk nor breathe. As if she had somehow swallowed two watermelons whole, and they were squeezing on out of her nether tract. She was apologetic about defaulting on her job, but for a time she was confined in the ship hospital. Junior visited her often, hoping she would get better soon, because it was pretty dull just being with his folks.

And she did improve. The doctor's strenuous treatment was effective, and in a few hours the crisis passed. Weary, weak, feeling depleted, but relieved, Lea realized that the burden had lifted and she was on the way to recovery. She was sure that she would be her old self by the time the ship reached Boston. She hoped her folks would never know how difficult part of her wonderful excursion had been. Somehow she felt that she had accomplished more than merely circling the world while baby-sitting a little boy.

The babies were ready. All that remained was to insert a soul split into halves, and the two halves of the magic talent and ship them to their destination. They were wrapped in cloth, a blue ribbon was set in the hair of the male, and a pink ribbon in the hair of the female. Then they were conveyed to the other end of the complex, where the waiting room of the storks was. A husky stork was given the location. It then poked its beak through the upper knot of the bundle, made a running takeoff, and was airborne. Another baby or two was being delivered to the waiting family.

“Oh!” Bria exclaimed as the stork, tired from the double burden, unceremoniously dumped first one baby and then the other into her lap and flew away. “Two!”

“A boy and a girl,” Esk agreed. “I can tell by the ribbons.”

“I think I know what their talents will turn out to be,” she said wisely. “He will be able to make things magically hard, and she will be able to make them magically soft. Whatever shall we call them?”

“Epoxy and Benzene,” he said.

“That's the label on the diaper!” she protested.

But it was too late. He had spoken the words, and the names stuck fast. Epoxy Ogre, who made things hard and fast, and Benzene Brassie, who dissolved them again. They were destined to be quite a pair, when they got loose in Xanth. But at the moment they were merely cute identical twins.

Identical? Male and female? Somewhere a disturbing thought hovered. Fortunately it found no place to settle.

“Do you know,” Bria mused, accepting it philosophically, “sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be easier just to let us make our own babies at home. Then maybe we wouldn't have to wait so long for delivery, or be caught by surprise.” She paused, then reluctantly added: “Or be concerned about possible mistakes.”

“It will never happen,” Esk replied. “The bureaucracy of the Adult Conspiracy hides all such critical information. That outfit will never give up its power. No one will ever know the secret of making babies.”

“And no child will ever know the secret of summoning the stork,” she agreed. “Perhaps it is just as well. There could be a lot of mischief if children ever started doing it.”

Certainly no one in the Mundane world ever knew the real story, especially not innocent girls like Lea who answered newspaper ads. Lea remembered that year between high school and college, but somehow its details soon faded along with her stretch marks, in the manner of a dream. Perhaps that was just as well. What would the world come to, if such devastating secrets were exposed? It might be severely disruptive of the established order.

Note:
The idea of Esk and Bria having twins with the magic of making things hard and soft was suggested by David Abolafia. But don't blame any of the rest of it on him. This was written for Norman Spinrad's anthology
Down in Flames
, where the authors of a number of series were to write stories torpedoing their own creations. So mine torpedoes Xanth. No wonder the storks are so close-beaked about where they get the babies, and why it takes so long to deliver them. I wrote it early in 1992, and revised it on the editor's suggestion to make it more obviously Xanthian, and signed the contract on February 11, 1994. $250.00 was to be paid within thirty days of receipt of the signed contract. That was the end of it. I never received payment and as far as I know the volume was never published; it must have gone down in flames. So now, twenty years later, I think it is time to share this story with my readers, damaging as it may be to Xanth.