Flytrap (9 page)

Mona made a thin smile. “I am a lawyer. I do do my homework. But I am not seeking to embarrass you or threaten you. I am merely setting the stage. I believe I can facilitate your marriage to her.”

“You intrigue me in more than one manner. But it is impossible. The ship departs in a week, and by the time I am able to return, more than a year hence, my girl will have been coercively married elsewhere. This is not Earth; the colonists have this power over their children. Both of us know this, and deeply regret it, but are helpless.”

“The ship will not depart in a week,” Mona said firmly. “There will be a four month delay. In that time you can get her pregnant, thus forcing the acquiescence of her family. In fact they will insist that you marry her and remove her from the planet, sparing them further embarrassment.”

“That would be unethical!”

“No more so than parents who violate their daughter's preference in marriage, because they think her prior boyfriend's prospects for promotion are better. It's a standard ploy.” She glanced down at her swelling belly. “It's how my host got her marriage to an Earth man.”

He decided not to argue that point. “In any event, it's academic. I'll be gone in a week.”

“I will make you a deal based on a wager,” Mona said evenly. “If your ship departs on schedule, you win, and you will lose your girlfriend and not take any plant to Earth. If your ship discovers itself indefinitely delayed—the officials will not know the duration will be four months—you technically lose. You will win your girlfriend and take her and the plant to Earth. The plant will count as an item of her personal baggage, so will not be technically in violation of protocol. There will be no mention of any supposed vampire aspect. Who would believe it anyway?”

Mike stared at her. “This smells of a Faustian bargain. If I win, I lose; if I lose, I win.”

“One you can afford to make, as you do not believe in precognition.”

He shook his head, bemused. “Never argue legalities with a lawyer!”

“Never,” she agreed, smiling.

“All right, dammit! I will make that wager.”

“Thank you.” She kissed him on the cheek and departed.

The time for the ship's departure came. It did not depart. It seemed there was some kind of bureaucratic turf war on Earth, with the Colony budget as hostage; until it was resolved, no ship could take off. Mona was sure that back on Earth Shep was fighting for the welfare of Colony Jones, but he did not control its budget.

She did not contact Mike. It was best that their prior dialogue remain unremarked. He would honor his end of the deal. With luck, the space authorities would never realize there was a connection between Mike's marriage and the shipment of a potted plant.

There was a more immediate matter to take her attention. Bunky was coming up on a month old, and it was time to neuter him, if it was to be done.

She took the lamb by the horns, as it were. She got together with him and Venus, to facilitate communication. “Bunky, we have a difficult decision to make. As you grow, you will mature. When you become a ram, you will be banished from this area and will have to join the rams on the island. But your lame leg makes that trip dangerous for you by yourself, if it is even possible, and I won't be here then. It could be a death sentence.”

“We would drink his blood,” the Venus maiden said. “If he got that far.”

“There is an alternative,” Mona continued grimly. “You can become a wether. That's a—a neutered male sheep. It would mean you would never mature, but you could stay here; the ewes would not banish you.”

“I want to stay with you,” Bunky said in bleats. He could formulate words now, with Venus's help.

“That's another thing. When my six months is done, I will exchange back to Earth, this time to stay, at least for six months. You could exchange with me, to your Earth host. But you would still have to be neutered, or you would have no viable host to return to.” Mona paused, choking up. “I can't make this decision for you. I want you to look ahead along your own life, and decide what is your best path.”

“I will be a wether,” he said immediately.

“But that means you will never mature. Never have sex with ewes. Never sire lambs of your own. You will remain essentially a child all your life.”

“Yes, I see it. And be with you. That is a much better life. I would not want to be imprisoned on the island anyway.”

“Are you sure? It's a major sacrifice.”

“Yes.”

“Then I will speak with Brian. He knows how to do it. It's just rubber bands on your—on the connections to your testicles. Almost painless, physically; no real discomfort. In a few weeks your testicles will shrivel and maybe drop off. And you will remain like a lamb all your life. A wether.”

“I will do it.” Bunky walked away, seeking Brian.

“I'm glad,” Venus said. “He's my friend. I will never have to suck him dry.”

“Yes, it is best,” Mona agreed. Then she went to her bed, lay down on her face, and wept.

It was done within the hour. Bunky was a little low spirited; she comforted him without looking. Otherwise he was unchanged. Next day he was fine and perky as usual.

Time passed routinely. Mona continued to commune with Bunky and Venus, learning more about telepathy and precognition. She getting what she had come for.

One day a young woman came to her house. “I am here to meet the Plant.”

“Meet the Plant?” Mona asked blankly.

“And to invite you to our wedding.”

Then it dawned. This was THE young woman. “You're marrying Mike!”

“And traveling with him to Earth,” the woman agreed. “Thanks to you and the Plant. Do I need to tell you how grateful we are?”

They hugged, carefully, both being pregnant. Mona introduced her to Venus, in the presence of Bunky, and Venus greeted her very prettily. They were compatible; Bunky verified it. She would take Venus when it was time to travel, and deliver her safely to Elasa on Earth.

One day the Ewe did not appear. Bunky was disappointed, but understood: he was being weaned. He was now able to survive on foliage and grain, and would do so hereafter. This was one instance where precognition really helped; he had seen it coming.

The time for Mona's birthing was approaching. She looked ahead with Bunky and saw that it would be all right. It was to be male, so she pondered male names and came up with a combination of Elen and Mona: Elmo. She hoped Elen would approve. Bunky indicated that she would.

Indeed, four months after Mona's arrival here, she gave birth to Elmo, a fine healthy boy who would never be gelded. Bunky, Venus, Vulture and Python bonded immediately; it seemed that this was part of the reason they were here. That made Mona wonder: what was in the future that would require the attention of this unusual group? It was as if her present comparatively placid existence was but an interlude before things became complicated. That made her nervous.

First things first. She had promised Brian, and she had little time left to deliver. Within a month of partition she was having enthusiastic vaginal sex with him, completing another aspect of their promised marriage. That would take place on Earth after they exchanged there. She was satisfied that this was the rustic alternate life she craved. On Earth Brian would study music while Mona practiced high-stakes law with her father: the other life.

The space ship took off, four months late, carrying Mike and his pregnant bride, and Venus. Mona missed the plant, but had by now bonded so thoroughly with Bunky that she could understand him well enough without Venus's help. All was well. In another month they would exchange, bring the animals along, and begin their lives on Earth.

She bid tearful farewells to Brian's family, and to Elen's family, and promised to return in six more months to pick up wherever Shep and Elen left off. She had come to love them all, and Baby Elmo.

But all along the nameless menace that the Lamb anticipated was growing. Now it loomed worse. What was so big and awful that it would require all their merged efforts just to survive, let alone handle?

On the last day, as they organized for the exchange, there was a stirring outside. It was the sheep: the Ewe and five companions. They had come to see the travelers off. That only added to Mona's concern; the sheep seldom made such demonstrations. Did it relate in some manner to the way the Ewe had bowed to her, and then to Elasa? Mona feared it did.

What was about to happen on Earth? The sheep cared ultimately only about the sheep; if they had to save mankind to save themselves, they would do it. And it seemed that Mona and Elasa were to be their agents. The sheep had incredible powers of precognition, and surely saw the looming threat more clearly than Mona and Bunky did. But what
was
it?

Mona ran out to join the sheep. “Please!” she cried. “I don't know what I am supposed to do! You have to give me more of a hint!”

The sheep faced her. A telepathic picture came. It seemed to be a Venus Flytrap about to swallow a planet. The planet Earth.

That had to be figurative, not literal. But it signaled the magnitude of the threat. Earth could be destroyed, and with it its colonies, such as this one.

“I appreciate the threat!” she said. “But exactly what
is
it? What can we do to deal with it?”

The sheep milled about uncertainly. And Mona realized with horror that they were not being obstinate. They simply did not know. They were unable to select the correct path to navigate this menace. All they could do was advise her of it. Help her set up the team she needed, including a tame flytrap of their own, to engage the big one. Something so formidable that even their precognition could not quite fathom it.

Mona realized with a sick certainty that they could no longer trust the sheep. Throughout her experience with them, they had been the stalwart last refuge. When in doubt, trust the sheep. Now that assurance was gone.

But Mona kept her deepening dread to herself, as she returned to the house. It seemed there was nothing she could do about it at present. They would have to wait for it to come. Whatever it was. For the Flytrap to close on Earth.

She held Baby Elmo, whom Elen would soon discover, and smiled with attempted reassurance at Brian. Whatever would be, would be.

Author's Note

As a general rule I try to avoid ending books unfinished. I don't like cliffhangers. Each should be an entity in itself, even when part of a series, as this one is. But the material to be covered in the sequel,
Awares
, is more than can be handled here. I apologize, and hope that it turns out to be worth it for my readers.

When I wrote the prior novella,
Shepherd
, which turned out to my surprise to be a sequel to
To Be A Woman
, when Mona volunteered to be Elen's Earth host, I realized that there were loose ends. Why did the sheep facilitate Elen's exchange to Earth? What would Mona do in Elen's body? What was the larger reason the sheep did not free Vulture and Python and return to their grazing? What did the fembot Elasa have to do with this? So I organized the present novella, addressing those threads, and realized that the story was still unfinished. I do believe the next one will complete it.

For this novella, as with the prior ones, my thanks to Rudy Reyes, who proofread it. I pride myself on my own proofreading accuracy, but annoying errors, like mosquitoes, still escape my net.

Readers interested in my works may visit my website
www.hipiers.com
or blogspot at
http://piersanthonyblog.blogspot.com
. Currently I do a monthly column about anything that interests me, ranging from book reviews to my liberal rants, and maintain an ongoing survey of electronic publishers and related services for the benefit of aspiring authors who would otherwise be excluded from publication. Welcome to my world.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © XXXX by Piers Anthony

ISBN: 978-1-4976-5747-2

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