But she had had enough of this. “Father, I demand to know what this is all about. Why are you so upset, and what does it have to do with this equipment? I won’t recite another paragraph until you tell me.”
“Quite all right, quite all right,” he said, looking quite all wrong. “It’s done now, and everything is in order. Now you must emigrate.”
“Emigrate? What are you talking about? I have no intention of—”
“Please, we must be off immediately. Do you have your purse?”
“My purse! Father, girls haven’t carried purses for centuries! What’s this all about?”
“There should just be time to catch the last ship out. We must hurry.”
Now she put her foot down, literally. “Father, I will not move one single solitary step until you tell me what is going on! What’s wrong with the equipment? Why do I have to leave the planet I’ve always lived on? Why are you so disturbed? Look me straight in the face and answer.”
He gazed at her. Then she saw something that completely unnerved her. His eyes were bright with tears. She had never before seen him like this. Something was terribly wrong.
“Very well,” she said, shaken. “I will go, if you want me to. But please, father, tell me why.”
“If I must,” he said reluctantly. “But on the way to the lightport. Time is of the essence. I must dial a taxi.”
“But why not use your own car?”
“I fear my private car could be under surveillance.” He fumbled with the vidphone, but his hands were shaking so much that all that showed on the screen were the symbols for planets, numbers, and punctuation. It was as if the screen were swearing at him—which it was, in its way.
“I’ll do it, father,” Spring said, having mercy on him. She punched in the code for a rental portacar, immediate use. Then she took what she suddenly realized might be her last look around at the office, suffering a siege of nostalgia. She knew that Gabriel would never boot her out like this without compelling cause, and that she had given him no such cause. Something had happened, something awful.
Then they hurried out to the arriving taxi and piled in. She was about to touch the LIGHTPORT symbol on the panel, but he stayed her hand; “Random course,” he said.
So she closed her eyes and touched a button blindly. The vehicle lifted and flew across the surface of the planet, going nowhere she cared about.
“Now tell me,” she said. She had known the research they were doing was highly secret and probably dangerous, but most of the time she had not understood anything beyond the surface procedures he gave her to complete.
“Until this day, I have not felt it necessary to reveal the entire truth of the project to you,” he said. “Now I fear I must, with deepest regret. Do you remember Zygote?”
“Zygote! He’s involved with this?” The mysterious magician named Zygote had been coming around to speak with her father, but she was never allowed to remain during their discourse. She knew that he was no friend by the loud voices emanating from the lab. Whenever she questioned her father about him, he had told her not to be concerned, that it was only professional disagreement. Yet, when she had been alone with Zygote during times her father was detained with a client, he had shown an uncommon interest in her personal life that made her flesh crawl.
Once, during one of those unfortunate times, Zygote had pressed the limits of her patience. Though he had not said it in so many words, she was certain he was trying to discover whether she was a virgin! Small difference that could have made to him; he was her father’s age, but resembled Gabriel in no other way, aside from the power of his magic. He struck her as malignant, not benign. The very notion of those long, swarthy fingers touching her made Spring recoil with disgust.
It was not that he was ugly or so old, for she did not regard her father as ancient; in fact mature men could be quite interesting. Though Zygote was neither handsome nor young, he had a charm that would appeal to most women. No, it was just an uncomfortable feeling that she got whenever near him. He was not a man to be trusted, of that she was certain. She couldn’t imagine the nature of business her parent could possibly have with such a creature, and was doubly careful to make herself scarce when he appeared thereafter.
Gabriel had given her time to reflect. Now he changed the car’s route again, randomly. “Yes, unfortunately. He is very much involved, and your suspicions of him are amply justified. He seeks power for its own sake, without regard to the harm it may do. And I have found a key to power. What I have discovered has the potential for tremendous mischief in the wrong hands, and I have no intention of allowing Zygote to obtain the information.”
“Well, of course not,” Spring agreed emphatically. “What is this thing, father?”
Gabriel shook his head. “I have no time to elaborate on the actual nature of the information, but it is the gate to great riches, absolute power, and forbidden knowledge. Reason enough for any number of ambitious, would-be tyrants to become interested in my project.”
“Such as Zygote,” she agreed. “But how does this concern me? I know nothing of it.”
Gabriel’s smile was chillingly compassionate. “You do know it, my dear—and you do not. That is your secret.”
“Father, I assure you I haven’t snooped on your—”
“Spring, I have used you, perhaps more cruelly than any man could have. I used a magically enhanced form of hypnotic spell to project secret information too sensitive for my files into your sub-conscious mind. It now contains the awesome knowledge which will activate only under certain conditions. Brainwashing or other forms of extortion will not gain access to the secrets, though they would most likely leave you mindless. You will not be aware of the buried knowledge at any time, as I feel the burden is too great.”
“I have the secret to absolute power?” she asked, dazed. “But if it can never be revealed, even to me, what’s the point?”
“There are two ways to release the secrets. Either I could say a code spell that would trigger a transference, or someone else could receive the information another way.”
“Another way? How?”
“It, ah, um, I, that is to say—”
“Out with it, father! I need to know.”
Gabriel struggled to voice the concept. “When you find a suitable young man, and are interested in, er, in a manner of speaking—”
“What are you trying to say, father?”
“When a young man and a young woman, the bees and the birds, romance—”
“What does love have to do with it?”
Gabriel made a supreme effort. “The secrets will activate and transfer telepathically to your partner when you make love for the first time.”
Spring was shocked. “Carnal knowledge?”
Gabriel blushed. “Very nicely put. But, knowing you, I feel confident with this safeguard.”
“Because you suppose I’m too unattractive ever to get that close to a man?” she demanded indignantly. “Thank you so much, father!”
“Oh, no no, no, Spring, no!” he protested, flustered. “I believe you are supremely attractive! It’s that I trust your judgment. I did not do this without some long and careful thought. If anyone but myself is to activate the secret, it must only be by the permission of my most trusted daughter.”
Suddenly Spring understood Zygote’s attentions. It was not her body he was interested in, but her mind. Or rather the secrets it contained. Somehow Zygote had discovered she was the key. If he caught her away from the protection of her father, it was doubtful he would be gentle in his extraction.
“And now you fear that Zygote will try to kidnap me,” she said, not even phrasing it as a question.
“Yes. I have reason to believe he intends to strike soon. Therefore I must hide you, until this threat has passed.”
It did make sense. “Where am I going?”
“I would prefer that you not know, until you are actually aboard the ship. That should help protect your location from discovery.”<
br />
That, too, made sense. So she let it be. But as they zipped randomly in to the lightport, she inquired about one other thing. “Why all the business with the equipment, today?”
“I was verifying that the information remains in place, together with its guardian routines. My equipment will no longer access the information itself, but does attune to certain marker keys I implanted. They are all in order. I had to be sure that no error had developed, no unprogrammed access. I am only approximately pleased that all remains in order, because of the threat to you it represents.”
“I’m like a bomb wired to detonate if anyone tries to disarm it,” she said with a wry smile.
“An unfortunately apt analogy.” Then he kissed her, and she saw the tears in his eyes again as he gave her the coded ticket. “I hope that some year you can forgive me for what I have done to you.”
“Of course I forgive you, father! I would have done anything you asked to be of help in your quest. I know it is all you have lived for since my mother’s passing.” She knew of the circumstances, yet still felt an unreasonable guilt as the destroyer of their happiness. She had always hoped he would find another woman to replace his loss, but he had not, saying there had been only one such as she. Spring found that touching and hoped to one day be as fortunate. To find that one true love, as he had felt he had in his Laurel.
That would have to wait, now. Perhaps forever. “Beware of whom you trust,” her father warned. “Zygote’s spies are everywhere, and they will stop at nothing.” She promised to be alert, and then they embraced, saying a last farewell until they met again. But she feared that was not to be.
Nevertheless, she held her chin high as she entered the port and boarded the ship whose code matched that of the ticket. No one would know that her heart was breaking.
3
Sharing
Thousands of solar years after the Age of Light, and for as many more before the descent of the Great Darkness, in those wondrous days when men traversed the distant galaxies, not in spaceships, but as one with the energy of light itself, was P#23 born!”
Thus spoke the ancient Vinese Elder, his vines trembling both with age and pious fervor as the rapt congregation of Vinese, Treeple, and Veganoids clung, boughed, or knelt respectfully in separate rows.
The sacred sowing season was upon them, and it was on Founder’s Day at sunrise that the most holy of all the spring rites were performed. On that day alone did all three species of intelligent life inhabiting the small planetoid come together, leaving the temples of their diverse denominations to meet in the Great Hall on common ground. There, ethnic, cultural, and personal differences were put aside as all gathered as one for the Sharing.
The Great Hall, a huge outdoor temple, was resplendent with fragrant spring foliage and blossoms. The sandalwood trees exuded a musky scent while the muted sound of reeds played lightly on the breeze. It was truly a majestic and inspirational setting for the most hallowed of days.
Herb Moss squirmed in his secluded spot on the fifty-third row. He hoped neither Elder nor fellow worshiper would notice, but the truth was he had been kneeling in one position for so long that his knees were asleep. It was hard to concentrate on lofty matters of the Light with tingling joints. But that was only one of his problems.
Herb regarded himself as an ordinary Veganoid and was not particularly religious. He felt awkward as always when suffered to attend these days of commitment. First came the interminable sermon, The Reminder, hailing the Founder and recounting the long history of their small planetoid. The sacred rites of Renewal followed. Another long and clinging ceremony.
It was not that he was a disbeliever. On the contrary, he had much respect for the Founder. It was these organized theological pantomimes he objected to, with their rigid, greener-than-thou attitudes. Let each grow in his own way! That was Herb’s motto. And at Herb’s age, spring after spring, it was all worn soil by now. He could quote the history of his home planet by rote.
Herb ceased pondering his beginnings as a young Treeple passed cups down his row for the Sharing ceremony. He accepted his, observing a bunchy Vinese female as she rolled to the pulpit. The rite of Rebirth was about to begin.
The Elder extended his vines, assisting her onto the hard earthen mound, and then led the faithful in the first of the traditional chants.
“Praise the Light! The Light is life!” He opened his leaves in acceptance as the congregation mimicked the gesture, repeating the chant in unison.
The Elder raised the cup and poured the clear cool liquid over the tender leaves of the female.
“Praise the Water!” he began. “Water is life!”
The female quivered with emotion, her blossoms losing a few soft petals. She was in full bloom, as was the proper state for the ceremony.
The congregation deposited their cups over their foliage in like manner as all chanted away. Herb hoped no one had seen him as he quaffed his down instead. He was terribly thirsty.
Reaching into the earthen mound, the Elder gathered and threw a scoop of soil onto the female’s roots, signifying growth.
“Praise the Soil!” chanted the believers, dipping their own limbs into the tilled rows before them.
At last the Elder reached into the center of the Vinese female’s foliage, clipping gently with his shears. He held the tender green cutting up for the congregation to admire. It was a strong and healthy shoot. Carefully, he placed the cutting into the soil, poured water, and extended the Founder’s Day blessing, “Grow and flourish!”
The ceremony ended with an invocation, and many went forward, reaffirming their belief. At last it was over.
“Amen,” said Herb, slapping his thighs in an attempt to bring life back into his aching limbs. Growing pains were nothing compared to this!
Yet Herb was glad he had observed the rites. They were a pain in the nether section, but they did serve to refresh his heritage. But for an unusual series of past events, his kind would not exist. It was proper to appreciate this.
Just previous to the forming of the Human Conception, as it was dubbed by the devotees, Dr. Ni Gell, one of New World’s foremost genetic programmers, made a tremendous breakthrough by creating intelligent life hitherto believed impossible: the successful grafting of plant and animal tissue.
The doctor believed the new form could possibly inhabit those planets with a large carbon dioxide-based atmosphere. With time, the new life would flourish, giving out sufficient amounts of its waste, oxygen, to transform the environment, eventually changing the inherent atmosphere of such planets to a breathable ratio for Earthlings. Herb had only an elementary grasp of the theory, but it had been hoped that the forms would adapt through evolution, and in that way open new worlds to future generations.
It was a long-term project at best, but one considered feasible enough to gain support from Central. When words of the NWSL experiment leaked out, however, Humanite followers screamed heresy, denouncing NWSL and the doctor as a vile blasphemer. But Dr. Ni Gell did deserve credit. If not for his lone sacrifice, Paradise would be just another green ball in space.
After the return of the other humans to New World, only Gell had remained to carry on. The few plant/humanoid mutations he had successfully developed which had somehow managed to survive the terrible blight, served as his assistants and companions.
Without a fresh supply of cells, for all the inventory had been stripped and returned along with the other scientists, he had been forced to use the only tissue available to him: that of his own body. He had feared, after deliberately contracting the blight, what such contamination would mean for the future strain.
He need not have. Miraculously, his cells when injected into a living mutation proved to be the very vaccine he needed to exact a cure. By reinjecting those same cells into himself, he was able to arrest its progress for longer periods of time, though never achieving a total cure upon his human system.
Years later at the time of his death, he had left prototypes of sufficient
health and intelligence to carry on his work. His greatest contribution, however, was of a more personal nature. He had taken one of the female prototypes as a companion and she had successfully born him a son. Spiritually and physically he was truly the father of them all.
Eventually, three main intelligent offshoots came to inhabit the green sphere: Treeples, Vinese, and Veganoids such as Herb.
Treeples were of a dark wooden hue, with supple bark-textured skin. Their general appearance was that of a young maple, with eight branches spreading above a face which was inset into the upper portion of the trunk. Leafy branches served the same purpose as arms, and twigs as fingers. From a distance the foliage gave the appearance of a great head of hair towering above the small face.
Their trunks were divided into two sections for legs beneath the torso, allowing for upright locomotion on a strong root foundation, the equivalent of human feet. Females grew small mounds approximating human breasts, which contained sap during gestation or arousal. Depending from which branch they descended, Treeples reproduced by cuttings, buds, or seeds.
Vinese had the least overt human properties of the three species, resembling a large green tumbleweed. Hundreds of leafy vine tendrils grew from a round ball body, covering it completely. They moved by rolling, clinging, or climbing, spoke from an elongated mouth tube in the upper region of their sphere, and peeped out through narrow slits of golden eyes.
Male and female Vinese had the same overall appearance except during gestation, when the female blossomed. They reproduced by the sole method of cuttings.
Veganoids like Herb most resembled their human ancestors, following the normal human pattern except for a few modifications. While Veganoids had human skin, it was a pleasing shade of green, as was their hair which grew to great lengths in both sexes, but usually kept trimmed to ear level by the males. Some females let it twine to their ankles, but this was uncommon, since it was impractical to care for. There were other differences as well. For example, fingers and toes could extend to root into the soil for energy in case of emergency. This was a throwback to the time before their kind had evolved into the human habit of eating rather than absorption.
The Secret of Spring Page 2
