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Authors: Piers Anthony

BOOK: Flytrap
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“The sheep believe it will.”

“And we trust the sheep,” he said wearily. “Even when they dabble in Earth politics, which they know nothing about.”

“We trust the sheep,” she agreed. Then she kissed him, and shut him up.

In the morning Mona set about the arrangements. First she sent a message, not to Elasa—that would have blown her cover!--but to Elen, who was now using Mona's body to study higher math on Earth. It asked her to talk to Mona's father, who would make arrangements for a brief out-of-turn exchange that included a Vulture, a Python, and a Lamb. She knew Elen might not understand, but would do it. The two of them had never met, but they were in each other's bodies, and that was one persuasive connection.

Then Mona went to the local spaceport. Spaceships still brought new colonists to Colony Jones, together with assorted key supplies; the colony was not yet completely self supporting. She went to the ship that was now parked, preparing for its return trip to Earth. She parked Brian and the three animals under a nearby tree, then walked to the adjacent office shed. She identified herself, giving her personal coding, and asked to talk to the logistics officer.

Surprised, he acceded, inviting her into the ship. She knew that as an officer he had to maintain a formal standard, unlike the men on liberty, and it probably was dull duty. She was a person of general interest, sufficient to break the monotony, and even though her body was pregnant, Elen's demeanor was attractive. Men noticed her. “Weren't you the woman who pretended to be the robot girl?” he asked. “We view the recording of that hearing all the time. For the information, of course.”

“Of course,” she agreed. Mona and Elasa had posed nude and allowed the jury to question and handle them, trying to determine which of them was the robot. They had been unable to tell, but the tri-vee recording of the session had become very popular with men. Two lovely nude women being publicly groped. In a good cause.

“What can I do for you, Miss Maverick?”

“Call me Mona.” The personal touch counted for a lot.

“And call me Mike.” Just so.

“Mike, I need to borrow a robot. A fembot, if you have a spare.”

He pursed his lips. “We have several. They are not much in demand planetside; the men prefer to associate with local girls. It's a matter of variety and novelty. But apart from the fact that those are state property, why would a woman like you want one? They are designed to appeal to unattached men, as you surely know.”

“Oh yes. Men care more for the semblance than the reality, no offense.” Now came the crux. “Can I trust your discretion? This is a secret mission that must not be leaked to the public.”

Mike considered. “Can you assure me that the robot will not be abused, mutilated, misused, or caused to embarrass the Interplanetary Navy?”

“I believe I can. We will not wish to call attention to her.”

“Then explain your mission. I will be discreet.”

“I need to bring Elasa, the fembot of the hearing you mentioned, here to Colony Jones for a week. Because she is not human, I need an appropriate host for exchange. One of your robots should do. The difference is that when Elasa arrives she will become conscious in the new host, so that she can help me accomplish an important personal mission. After it is completed, Elasa will be exchanged back to Earth, and I will return your robot, sans consciousness.”

Mike man whistled. “This is a thing I would like to see. In fact, I would insist on meeting her, as Elasa, to verify that the exchange has taken place.”

“You may meet her. But there must be no publicity.”

“I understand. Come here at the time you wish to make the exchange. This ship will be in port another month, ample time for your mission to be completed. When I verify her identity, I will release her in your custody for the duration of your mission. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough,” Mona agreed. “My consort and three animals will also be exchanging.”

“The vulture, the python, and the lamb,” he agreed. “This must be some mission.” He was plainly curious, but too polite to pry.

Yet his full cooperation was better than ignorance. She decided to trust him with a bit more information. “There is a danger to the sheep that I think only Elasa can abate. It involves the vampires. They will be attacking females as well as males, but a robot will be proof against their seduction.”

“I have heard of them,” he agreed. “In fact we have a strict protocol: no vampires aboard ship. That is not facetious.”

“Not at all,” she agreed.

“It has been a pleasure meeting you, Mona.”

“Mutual, Mike. Would you like to meet my companions?”

“Actually, I would. They are unusual.”

They went out and Mona introduced Mike to Brian and the animals. The Vulture and the Python remained aloof, but Bunky was happy to be petted.

“You seem just like an Earth lamb,” Mike said. “But I know you're not.”

“He's precognitive,” Mona said. “Try to surprise him.”

Mike accepted the challenge. He abruptly jumped to the side.

The lamb jumped with him, imperfectly because of his leg, but matching him.

Mike made as if to jump back, but did not. Bunky held his place.

The officer drew his service pistol. The Vulture and the Python surged forward, distrusting its nature, but the Lamb merely sniffed it.

Mike nodded, putting away the pistol. “That could be interpreted as ignorance, but I think he knows I would not try to hurt him.”

“He knows,” Mona agreed. “A dire wolf attacked him, and he nearly killed it.”

“The colony manual says the sheep are the deadliest creatures on the planet.”

“They are. But they don't look for trouble.”

“I appreciate this encounter,” Mike said. “I wish you the best of your mission.”

“Thank you.” They shook hands and she and the others departed.

She checked the message center to see if Elen had responded yet. She had, and Mona was astonished again. It seemed that Shep and Elen had not only established their case as exchangees, they had made a public demonstration of the sheep's precognition. Now Shep was the effective governor of Colony Jones, with authority to approve and facilitate the spot exchange of both people and animals. He was working closely with her father, Moncho Maverick, to facilitate the group exchange, no questions asked.

The sheep must have known.

Chapter 4:

Earth

They made the exchange in an enclosed garden near the Peterson's house, much as before. The technicians acted exactly as if doing a group of five, including three animals, was routine, though it had never been done before. The Ewe attended; she might not understand the technology of exchange, but knew she was needed to control the vulture and the python, because they were about to be replaced with genuinely wild creatures; they would remain in the garden a day and night. She would nurse the lamb, though it would be foreign to her. The Petersons would see to the privacy of the garden. Meanwhile, Shep and Elen would be back for this unexpected visit, and would make the most of it. At least they were familiar with the turnip farm and the Petersons.

Then the scene changed. They were at Shep's house, and Mona was in her own body. “Mona,” she announced.

“Brian,” Brian said from Shep's body.

Moncho was there. He hugged her. “Good to have you back, girl.”

“It's business, dad.” She disengaged and went to the cages, freeing the three animals. The Lamb was about Bunky's size, but not lame; it was the best they could do on short notice. The Vulture and the Python were not identical, but again, what counted was their minds; it was quickly evident that their exchanges, too, had been successful.

“Dad, I have business with Brian,” Mona said. “Can you babysit our companions for half an hour?”

He understood her perfectly. “Sure, if they'll mind me. There's a garden here they should like.”

“They will,” she said. Then she took Brian to Shep's bedroom.

“I've been here before,” he said. “But not with you.”

She threw off her clothing. “Are you disappointed?”

“No! You're beautiful!”

Then they were making love the conventional way, for the first time. He was almost savagely hungry for her.

“I told you you'd like me,” she reminded him after the first siege.

“I do! You're wonderful!”

“And I have a mind, too.”

He laughed. “You do.”

“It will be like this on Jones, in due course.”

“I love you!”

In due course they rejoined the others, who were busily exploring the garden. Moncho also produced a mirliton in the form of a staff, the one Brian had made during his prior visit. Brian played it as masterfully as he had played the one on Colony Jones, something his host could not have done by himself.

“Now the news,” Moncho said. “The small son of a visiting dignitary wandered away from their hotel last night and it seems got lost in the Everglades. Instant headlines. If that boy dies--”

“Your mission, Brian,” Mona said. “You know what to do.”

“Yes.” But he looked worried. She knew why: he wasn't sure the Lamb's precognition would work here on Earth, in the host body of a native lamb. Despite their superficial similarity, they were of drastically different species.

“Trust the sheep,” she reminded him. “It seems that their precognition came through here before.”

“There's a van waiting,” Moncho said. “And a private aircraft. You'll be there soon.”

“Yes.” Brian kissed her, then departed with the animals. They too knew what to do, the Lamb because of his telepathy, the others because of the Lamb. They would go into the Everglades and quickly locate and rescue the child, making phenomenal headlines.

“Now I need to see Elasa,” Mona said.

“She is on her way here.”

“Privately. This is the part of the mission that must not be known.”

“Be realistic, Mona,” he chided her. “The best place to hide a secret is in plain sight. The two of you are close friends. Naturally you want to get together for girl-talk and such.”

“Girl talk,” she echoed, laughing.

Elasa arrived, with Bela. The two women hugged each other around the baby. “What's on your living mind?” Elasa asked. “I know you didn't make this out-of-turn excursion for a lark.”

Mona let her have it. “The precognitive sheep anticipate the appearance of male vampires that will prevent the ewes from going to the ram's island for mating.”

“Elen told us about their journey to that island,” Elasa said. “Where the female vamps attack any males who try to cross the river. She had an interesting way of protecting Shep's body from them.”

“Yes. The vampires feed from their clefts, taking in an eager male's penis and spiking it for blood, regardless of his species. Pheromones maintain his readiness; he can't break until she has had her fill. Then another takes him similarly. He can't climax, only bleed. They will drain all his blood if not prevented. He is in bliss, but dying.”

“So I gather. So she shielded him from them by taking his penis into herself, her body being the barrier they could not get around. But I'm not sure how that would work against a male vampire. Could his penis suck blood?”

“It must, because the sheep fear it. That they will die the next time they try to cross to the island.”

“And they don't have male sheep crossing with them to block off their vaginas,” Elasa said, seeing it. “And if they did, the rams would quickly jettison and get off their rumps, and then the vampires would come in, not caring at all about breeding, only the blood. So the ewes really have no defense.”

“Exactly. I knew that the only effective answer is to eliminate the male vampires before the sheep make their trek. They can handle the female vamps, and don't want to eliminate them, because the rams need to be confined to the island. It's selective. So I thought of you.”

“A male vampire couldn't suck my blood,” Elasa agreed. “But he wouldn't be stupid enough not to realize that rather quickly. They would wait for the sheep. I don't see how I can help.”

“Remember when you carried your baby?” Mona asked. “You had an artificial uterus, and a blood supply, and you incubated Bela to term, and birthed him. Suppose you installed a blood supply for the vamps?”

“Why should I want to feed the vampires?”

“Poisoned blood,” Mona clarified. “Maybe slow-acting, like red squill to poison rats. They eat a little and it's fine; they eat more, and it's still fine. They don't realize that it's thinning their blood until they bleed to death internally.”

“But I'm not alive!” Elasa protested. “They would surely catch on that I'm a machine, and ignore me.”

“Not if you also were packed with compelling pheromones.”

“Use their own device against them!” Elasa said. “There's poetic justice in that.”

“That was my thought. Men are guided mainly by sight, and are attracted to a pretty girl even if they know she's a machine. The vampires are evidently guided by pheromones, and as a moth is guided by a light in the darkness, they may be compelled to try to feed on a creature emitting pheromones even if they know better.”

“So I could dispatch vampires by sexually feeding them, leaving the way clear for the ewes.”

“Yes. I think only a fembot could do it.”

“A fembot,” Elasa said. “Don't they have them on Colony Jones?”

“They do, and I have set it up for you to be hosted by one.”

“Why couldn't one of them do it? A fembot doesn't require consciousness to provide sex.”

Mona paused, dismayed. “I never thought of that! Somehow I knew it had to be you. I may have overlooked the obvious.”

“Not necessarily. When Elen came here, in your body, she and Shep brought news of two remarkable near-future events. The media ridiculed them, right up until the moment they came to pass. Then everything changed. It became evident that the sheep of Jones had somehow known future events on Earth that no one else knew. We all became believers.” She paused, still working it out. “Now the sheep have sent you here to recruit me, not an anonymous fembot. They must have reason. What could that be?”

The answer flashed. “Consciousness! The vampires must focus on consciousness as well as pheromones. They have pheromones galore; they generate them to overwhelm the resistance of their prey. But only conscious females are alive with flesh and blood. So a fembot would not suffice; her lack of awareness would be the giveaway.”

“And I am the only conscious robot,” Elasa concluded. “Now we have made sense of it.”

“But will you do it?” Mona asked.

“Of course I will do it! The sheep need me. It will be interesting to visit another planet, something I would never qualify for otherwise. To see first hand the things Elen told me about.”

Mona looked at her.

“And because my closest friend asks me,” Elasa said, providing the real reason as if it were an afterthought.

Mona hugged her. As a commentator had once remarked, there was more humanity in the robot than in many living folk.

“What about Bela?” Mona asked then. “He really can't come along.”

“His father will take care of him. And he has come to know and like Elen; she has a special touch you lack. No offense.”

“Of course. I've never been a mother. She's been practicing during her pregnancy.”

“She tells him stories of Colony Jones, and of the sheep. I don't think he really understands the details, but he does pick up on the spirit.”

“I think I will be able to do that too, after my tour.”

“So for a week it should be okay. I will make the arrangements.”

“I really appreciate it.”

“Now I think we need to rejoin the boys,” Elasa said.

“We?”

“It's a pretext for further visiting time. Elen is my friend too, but I value you most. We won't be seeing each other again for months, after this week, as far as the media know. Of course I will take advantage of the chance.”

Mona was overwhelmed with gratitude. “Oh, Elasa--”

“As if we need a pretext. Let's go.”

They took a commercial flight, being associates rather than the main figures of this event. As far as the media knew, Mona had visited briefly with her friend while Brian and the animals got on with the key business.

The media were full of it already. The receiver above their seat on the plane was tuned to the breaking news and commentary. “The exchangees are at it again. Shepherd and Elen are the ones who communed with the sheep of Colony Planet Jones and announced that two newsworthy items would appear: the discovery of an air-breathing squid, and a volcano in the Everglades. We all know how that turned out.” The newscaster smiled ruefully; he had been among the skeptics. “Now they are back with another publicity ploy: they say they will rescue the child lost in the Everglades. Because they were sent by those same sheep.” He paused meaningfully. “Can they be correct? Or are they simply cashing in on the publicity, to get more money for the Colony?”

“The nerve!” Mona exclaimed. “None of this is for money!”

Other passengers overheard her. “The woman and the robot!” one said.

Damn! Now they were in for it. She and Elasa had to smile and nod as if they appreciated the sudden cynosure. Next they would be asked for autographs.

The stewardess murmured into her mike.

“We are encountering turbulence,” the pilot announced on the speaker system as the plane swerved. “Passengers secure their seat belts and put away loose items.”

“Bless him!” Elasa murmured. She caught the eye of the stewardess and smiled, silently thanking her.

The plane went into sharp maneuvers that were enough to distract the other passengers. By the time those cleared they were in the descent for landing. The passengers had to remain in their seats.

Meanwhile the news continued. “And it's some show they are putting on. They have a python, a vulture, and a little lamb, all taken from a local sanctuary. They claim that the lamb is one of the precognizant sheep. Really? That lamb was birthed right here on Earth. And the man, said to be exchanged from Jones but in the body of Amber Shepherd, also of Earth, is setting up to play some weird musical instrument based on the kazoo. How can that relate to the rescue mission?”

The mirliton, which was actually a far cry from a kazoo. Brian could play it like a flute. Mona was smarting from the implication of incompetence.

They went on to remark on the folly of wasting money supporting such antics, when there were so many better uses for it. And of course there were the instant jokes. “A vulture, a python, and a lamb walk into a bar...” Mona turned it off. But she wondered. Was Brian really about to play the mirliton? Why? Bunky must be guiding him, but it still did not seem to relate.

They landed, and were whisked to the scene of the lost child. Sure enough, not only was Brian standing in the street playing the mirliton, a media man had a mike and amplifier, and it was being broadcast throughout the area. He was playing Grieg again, “Hall of the Mountain King.” It was vibrant and moving and absolutely beautiful. Neighbors were coming out to listen. But
why
?

Mona and Elasa approached Brian, not interrupting his serenade. They did not see Python. Then Vulture took wing and flew down the street. Bunky skipped along after the big bird, Brian followed the lamb, and the media folk followed him. It was like a weird parade.

They could imagine the fun the media commentators were having with this spectacle. How long would this farce continue? The media were always happy to facilitate celebrities making fools of themselves, but attention spans were short and other spectacles would be beckoning.

Vulture landed beside a manhole cover. Bunky joined him, pawing at it with a hoof. A workman appeared and hauled up the heavy lid.

“Get a light down there,” Mona called.

A man lowered a bright lantern. There was a cry from the recesses, as of a child.

Mona was there before she realized, agile because she was no longer pregnant. She found the rungs of a metal ladder and descended into the illuminated hole. There to the side was the child, a muddy little boy. She reached forth and took him in. In moments she had him on the street, and the cameras surrounded them. They had recovered the lost child.

“You better see this!” the man with the light called. A camera detached to go to him, and soon there was a holo projection above, of the scene below. A python and an alligator were locked in mortal combat.

Mona had the wit to get the boy's statement while the cameras were on them. “What happened?”

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