Flytrap (5 page)

“I got lost,” the little boy said. “It was dark but I could see. The gator came after me. Then I heard the music and knew I would be found. The snake tackled the gator and I got away.”

Brian put his head down into the hole. “Python! Let it go. Come up here. The job's done.” The Lamb bleated, as if translating.

“There you have it,” Mona told the cameras in her trial-summation voice. “The boy crawled into the sewer system, not the Everglades. He couldn't find his way out. That's why he was not being located by the search party. But the alligator found him. Python saved him from that, and Vulture led us to them. All because of the Lamb's precognition; he knew where the boy would be found. That's why we had to bring them to Earth, in a hurry. We knew there was no time to argue with doubting media folk.”

Python emerged from the manhole. Mona set the boy down, reassuring him, and he went to pet the big snake. He knew Python had saved his life. The cameras took it all in.

That's how the child's parents found them, as they rushed back from the everglades. It was an international incident, but a positive one. Thanks to the Lamb.

“One thing I don't understand,” Mona murmured when they had a private moment. “Why the music?”

“This is Earth. Bunky no longer has the telepathic support of his dam. The lamb is a foreign host, one not naturally telepathic. He needed an assist.”

“The Ewe was bolstering him on Jones!” Mona said. “I never thought of that.”

“Neither did I, until I saw him falter. Then I caught on. Music has power, especially when there's telepathy; Elen told me that. They used music to fend off the vampires, as well as the shielding. So I made music, and it extended his range. Then Python and Vulture could go out; as long as they heard the music, they were in touch with Bunky. That made it work.”

“The boy said when he heard the music, he knew he would be found. Bunky reached him too!”

“Yes. The Lamb was the center of the operation. But he's young yet.”

“He'll get better as he grows.”

The evening news was filled with pictures of the rescue, with dramatic background music: Grieg, “Hall of the mountain King,” which had become abruptly popular, and with interviews with Mona and Brian. The skeptics had to eat dirt, again, and financing of Colony Jones administration was assured, as was the continuing administration of Amber Shepherd. There was just nothing like the peril and rescue of a child to compel public attention.

But the best was the cartoonist who had been there for Elasa, and for Elen and the sheep. It was a picture of a happy little boy posed with a lamb, a huge python on one side, an ugly vulture on the other, like deadly guardians. Beneath it were the words WASTED MONEY. The irony was huge.

Chapter 5:

Ogre

Elasa opened her eyes and looked around. “It worked!” she exclaimed, relieved. She was in an unfamiliar office, along with a pregnant young woman, an amiable young man, and the three animals.

“Elasa?” Mona asked. She had exchanged at the same time, and now was back in Elen's pregnant body.

“Yes. I thought it should work, since it is consciousness and memory that is exchanged, but it's never been done on a machine before, so I had a nagging doubt.”

“You remember the personhood hearing?”

“How could I ever forget it. You made it possible, Mona.” Of course Mona was trying to verify that Elasa's exchange really had occurred. “Also my baby. You would have married my man to take care of Bela, if I hadn't come back.” That was something that was not in the public record.

Satisfied, Mona turned to the unfamiliar man before them, evidently a naval officer. “Your witness, Mike.”

“Indeed,” the man agreed. “Elasa, you are now hosted by the body of one of our ship fembots. That machine answers to me. Show me that you are independent of it. That you actually are conscious.”

“Readily,” Elasa said, smiling. “Give your machine an order.”

“Fembot, return to your storage closet in the ship. Now.”

“Forget it, Mike. I haven't obeyed any such order since I achieved my personhood back on Earth. I'm a civilian, not subject to military discipline, regardless of my host.”

He acted affronted. “You can't talk to me that way!”

“The hell I can't, Mike. Get lost.”

Mike smiled. “That's definitely not our robot. She is incapable of any such responses.”

“You bet,” Mona agreed. “Elasa is conscious and self-willed, the only machine known to be so. Thank you, Mike; we'll take good care of the body.”

“I am sure you will.”

They released the three animals from their cages, which were of course no longer required, and departed his office. Elasa blinked as she viewed the planet outside. It was really quite different from Earth.

“Now comes the hard part,” Mona said. “Abolishing the male vampires. I understand that the journey there is hazardous.”

“How do we even find it?” Brian asked. “Only the sheep know the safe way. Elen was listed as guide, but she depended on the sheep to prevent them from getting killed.”

Then the Ewe appeared. They paused while Bunky nursed.

“And there's the answer,” Brian said. “The Ewe will lead us. She has to come along anyway, to nurse Bunky.”

“Obvious in retrospect,” Mona agreed.

But Elasa was not quite satisfied. “You have filled me in on the general gist,” she said. “But there remain things I don't understand.”

“Such as?”

“Why do the sheep always take along a human couple? They could travel more readily by themselves, or just with selected animals like Vulture and Python. Or an ape to peddle the boat across the water.”

Mona considered. “I don't know. Maybe the villagers do. We can ask the village elder.”

“Let's do that. We need to know exactly what we are getting into.”

Bunky finished nursing. The Ewe did not depart immediately instead she faced Elasa. And made a bow.

Surprised, Elasa bowed back. Then the Ewe left.

“She bowed to you!” Brian said.

“It's not a common courtesy to welcome a newcomer?”

“It is not,” Mona said. “She bowed to me, before. I learned that that was only the second time a sheep had done that, ever. You must be special too.”

“Well, I'm the only conscious robot.”

“I don't think the sheep care about that,” Brian said. “They care only about themselves. I think this means that just as Mona has a significant role to play in the welfare of the sheep, so do you.”

“So this mission must be really important to the sheep,” Elasa said. “As we already know.”

Mona shook her head. “I think it must be more than that. I'm picking up indications from Bunky. There's something larger going on, that only the sheep know about.”

Elasa nodded. “What would your father say?”

Mona smiled. Moncho always got straight to the point. “Find out what, first.”

“Let's ask the village elder about that, too.”

They trekked to the center of the village. The elder was seated outside his house, as before.

“This is Elasa, of Earth,” Mona said. She did not mention the machine aspect, as they did not want to advertise it. “She has questions, if you care to answer.”

The elder smiled. Elasa was a beautiful woman, and not pregnant. “A pleasure.”

“I just met a grown sheep, a ewe,” Elasa said. “For is, the Ewe. She bowed to me. I understand that's unusual.”

“It is,” the elder said. “It is almost unheard of. It may be a mark of respect for some future association. They are precognitive.”

“But I am here only for a week. Then I will exchange back to Earth, and probably not visit this world again.”

“They know. They are sheep, not smart, but they know. Your future commands their respect.”

“Thank you. My other question relates to the ram's island. I understand the ewes go there once a year to breed, and that they normally recruit a human couple to accompany them. But why? They don't seem to need humans for anything else; why bother with them for that?”

“That is one of their mysteries,” the elder said. “Normally when the trip is done, the humans and animals separate from the sheep and have no further interaction with them. The several species leave each other entirely alone the rest of the time. Their bringing a lamb to be with a human is a remarkable divergence from that pattern; these are interesting times. I can only conjecture that something extraordinary is in the making. What it is, only the sheep know, if they know.”

“
If
they know?”

“An I said, they're not smart, but they are remarkably savvy. I think they follow trails through the jungle, knowing that they go to desirable places. To them the future is a jungle, and they follow a trail. They may not know exactly where it goes, just that it's the right trail. We will surely learn where it leads in due course.”

“That's sensible,” Elasa said, smiling prettily. “Thank you.”

The elder shook his head. “You are lovely. I would never have taken you for a machine.”

“You know?” Elasa asked, not thrilled.

“I did the supply ship captain a favor, once long ago. He returned it by sending a fembot for a night. I know that body well. But I also know the difference between a program and a conscious person. You're a person.”

Elasa laughed, relieved. “Thank you.”

“I will not mention this aspect elsewhere.”

“Thank you,” she repeated. Then she kissed him. He did not react, but she knew he really liked it.

They moved on. Elasa remained troubled. What could be in her future that the sheep found so significant?

“So it seems we'll have to work out the rationale for the human participation ourselves,” Mona said.

“Yes, I think we'd better. Mysteries are unsafe. Meanwhile I will need a supply of flesh blood, pheromones, and poison.”

“The local butcher should be able to help.”

They went to the butcher, and he agreed to sell them some blood. He also had pheromones and poison, which he used to doctor bits of meat for thieving animals to find. He would have a fresh batch in the morning.

At their house they made the animals comfortable, then settled down for a serious three way discussion. Why did the sheep require human beings along on their breeding trip? There had to be a solid reason. What could it be?

“Something else I don't properly understand,” Elasa said. “Colony Jones has breathable atmosphere and edible plants and animals, albeit with some highly significant differences from those of Earth. Did they somehow interbreed with native species to produce things like the remarkable sheep?”

“There are no native species,” Brian said. “Jones was colonized by Earth fifty years ago. They called the ship that brought all the animals, plants, and bacteria Noah's Ark.”

Now Mona was surprised. “How did they diverge so widely, then? The sheep may look like Earth sheep, but they have defensive knives and precognition. And the people, Elves, for example.”

“Humans, Elves, Ogres, Fairies, Goblins, that we know of,” Brian said. “They can all interbreed, but they are quite different.”

“Natural evolution can hardly account for that,” Mona said. “Not in fifty years.”

“Well, there was ExplEvo.”

“There was what?”

“I forgot you're not native. That's Explosion Evolution. It comes and goes like HiLo, only less often. There was one about five years after the colonization. That's when the present diversity occurred.”

“That's interesting,” Elasa said. “Before I exchanged I downloaded the files on Colony Jones. There was nothing of that nature therein. In fact there seemed to be missing files relating to its early history.”

“I don't think Earth even knew about Jones until the last decade,” Brian said. “It wasn't considered a colony.”

“What was it, then?” Mona asked sharply.

“A scientific or military experiment. I think they wanted to see what happened if an assortment of plants and animals was settled on an Earth-like planet and then left alone. But finally they had to recognize it as a colony, thanks to the influence of the sheep, and now we even get exchange students.” He smiled at Mona.

“Who are studying precognition,” Elasa said.

“I'm surprised the military didn't clamp down on that,” Mona said. “If ever a discovery had military significance, it's precognition.”

“Well, I don't think they took it seriously,” Brian said. “Not until the sheep predicted those discoveries on Earth. Now it's too late; the cat's out.”

“Let's get back to the original question,” Elasa said. “Why do the sheep require human beings along on their breeding excursions?”

“Well, there's a peddle-raft they use to cross to the island,” Brian said. “The sheep can't work it. Humans can.”

“Or an ape, as I said. Or a regular hireling. Or a robot.”

The others shrugged, not knowing.

Elasa remained unsatisfied. “Couldn't they make a bridge, or a sheep handle-able craft?”

“No. Then the rams would cross, and be after the ewes full-time. So it has to be something the sheep can't do alone.”

“So back to the question: why a human couple? Couldn't two women do the job?”

The others looked at her, startled. “Two women?” Mona said. “I suppose they could. But the sheep insist on a man.”

“Why?”

“We don't know,” Brian said. “It's just always been that way.”

“The sheep must have a reason” Mona said.

“Precisely. We need to fathom that reason.”

“Maybe this,” Mona said, exercising her legalistically logical mind. “The gender the vamps orient on isn't fixed. They focus on the first mammal that comes to the river. Normally that would be a ram, seeking to escape and go after the ewes. But any male mammal will do. If there are only female mammals on that raft, the vamps will orient on them, manifest as males, and suck them dry. So there has to be that one male, to set them in the female mode. Then the ewes can cross. The vamps are not smart, just hungry, so they can be managed.”

“And now it's not working!” Brian exclaimed. “Or won't, in the near future. Some are starting to orient on females regardless of the presence of a male. Those are the ones we have to stop.”

“That works for me,” Elasa agreed. “So we do need you along, Brian, to make them female. Those that go for me are the ones to kill.”

“That's it,” he agreed.

“But there's a complication.”

“I hate those things!”

“Who is going to protect you from the lady vamps?”

“Why Mona, of course.” Then he paused. “Only she's pregnant.”

“I am,” Mona agreed. “So Elasa may have to do it.”

“Except that I must go after the male vampires,” Elasa said. “I need my vagina free.”

Mona sighed. “I will have to do it, carefully. That will also protect me from the male vamps. I don't want them sucking my blood.”

“Fortunately Bunky is too young to respond to pheromones,” Elasa said. “He should be safe, as Vulture and Python are.”

“Safe from the vamps,” Mona agreed.

“Then I think we know our course,” Elasa said.

In the morning they went to the butcher shop to pick up the supplies. When they were beyond it, with a warm full gallon jug, Elasa simply put it to her mouth and drank it down. Her system would convey it to the appropriate reservoir. She saved the pheromones and poison for later application.

The Ewe appeared, as they had thought she would. She marched into the forest, and they followed. Brian carried Bunky in a body sling, and Mona used a staff to bolster her balance and footing. Elasa herself had no problem, and neither did Vulture or Python. It was an odd party of seven.

After an hour the Ewe halted. This was not a rest break; a dire wolf stood in the path ahead.

“And where there is one, there is a pack,” Brian murmured. “There will be more behind us. That's how they hunt.”

Bunky bleated.

“Suddenly I have a desire to play my mirliton,” Brian said, surprised.

“Do it,” Mona said. “It must be the will of the sheep, translated by the Lamb's telepathy.”

Brian lifted Bunky out of the harness and set him on the ground. Elasa stepped up to take the harness, then put Bunky in it; they had agreed to shift off periodically. The Lamb accepted this, but looked at her with an odd appraisal.

“Yes, I'm not flesh,” Elasa said. “But I am a woman.”

Bunky seemed reassured.

Brian lifted his instrument and played.

The wolf in front looked confused. Then it backed away, and soon was gone.

“Music has charms to soothe the savage beast,” Mona said. “A misquote, but relevant at the moment.”

Brian ceased playing, and the wolves did not return. That was a relief. But Brian held the mirliton ready for further play the moment it was needed. Wolves could be cunning.

They resumed their march. Elasa had little to fear for herself; her mechanical body would be virtually invulnerable to animal attack. But that was not the case for the others. She was glad the sheep knew the safe route.