The Anything Box

by Зенна Гендерсон

  "Oh, no!" Serena pressed close to him and his arm went around her. "Theycouldn't possibly violate—"

  "Couldn't they?" Thorn pressed his cheek to the top of her ear. "We don'tknow, Rena. We just don't know. We have so little information about them. Weknow practically nothing about their customs—even less about their values orfrom what frame of reference they look upon our suggestion of suspendinghostilities."

  "But surely they must be sincere. They brought their families along withthem. You did say those bright ships are family craft, didn't you?"

  "Yes, they suggested we bring our families and they brought their familiesalong with them, but it's nothing to give us comfort. They take themeverywhere—even into battle."

  "Into battle!"

  "Yes. They mass the home craft off out of range during battles, but everytime we disable or blast one of their fighters, one or more of the home craftspin away out of control or flare into nothingness. Apparently they're just

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  glorified trailers, dependent on the fighters for motive power and everythingelse." The unhappy lines deepened in Thorn's face. "They don't know it, buteven apart from their superior weapons, they practically forced us into thistruce. How could we go on wiping out their war fleet when, with every blackship, those confounded posy-colored home craft fell too, like pulling petalsoff a flower. And each petal heavy with the lives of women and children."

  Serena shivered and pressed closer to Thorn. "The conference must work. Wejust can't have war any more. You've got to get through to them. Surely, if wewant peace and so do they—"

  "We don't know what they want," said Thorn heavily. "Invaders, aggressors,strangers from hostile worlds—so completely alien to us—How can we ever hopeto get together?"

  They left the conference room in silence, snapping the button on the doorknob before they closed it.

  "Hey, lookit, Mommie! Here's a wall!" Splinter's five-year-old handsflattened themselves like grubby starfish against the greenish ripple of theten-foot vitricrete fence that wound through the trees and slid down thegentle curve of the hill. "Where did it come from? What's it for? How come wecan't go play in the go'fish pond any more?"

  Serena leaned her hand against the wall. "The people who came in the prettyships wanted a place to walk and play, too. So the Construction Corp put thefence up for them."

  "Why won't they let me play in the go'fish pond?" Splinter's brows bentominously.

  'They don't know you want to," said Serena.

  "I'll tell them, then," said Splinter. He threw his head back. "Hey! Overthere!" He yelled, his fists doubling and his whole body stiffening with theintensity of the shout. "Hey! I wanta play in the go'fish pond!"

  Serena laughed. "Hush, Splinter. Even if they could hear you, they wouldn'tunderstand. They're from far, far away. They don't talk the way we do."

  "But maybe we could play," said Splinter wistfully.

  "Yes," sighed Serena, "maybe you could play. If the fence weren't there.But you see, Splinter, we don't know what kind of—people—they are. Whetherthey would want to play. Whether they would be—nice."

  "Well, how can we find out with that old wall there?"

  "We can't, Splinter," said Serena. "Not with the fence there."

  They walked on down the hill, Splinter's hand trailing along the wall.

  "Maybe they're mean," he said finally. "Maybe they're so bad that the'struction Corp had to build a cage for them—a big, big cage!" He stretchedhis arm as high as he could reach, up the wall. "Do you suppose they gottails?"

  "Tails?" laughed Serena. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

  "I dunno. They came from a long ways away. I'd like a tail—a long, curlyone with fur on!" He swished his miniature behind energetically.

  "Whatever for?" asked Serena.

  "It'd come in handy," said Splinter solemnly. "For climbing and—and keepingmy neck warm!"

  "Why aren't there any other kids here?" he asked as they reached the bottomof the slope. "I'd like somebody to play with."

  "Well, Splinter, it's kind of hard to explain," started Serena, sinkingdown on the narrow ledge shelving on the tiny dry watercourse at her feet.

  "Don't esplain then," said Splinter. "Just tell me."

  "Well, some Linjeni generals came in the big black ships to talk withGeneral Worsham and some more of our generals. They brought their familieswith them in the fat, pretty ships. So our generals brought their families,too, but your daddy is the only one of our generals who has a little child.All the others are grown up. That's why there's no one for you to play with."I wish it were as simple as it sounds, thought Serena, suddenly weary againwith the weeks of negotiation and waiting that had passed.

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  "Oh," said Splinter, thoughtfully. "Then there are kids on the other sideof the wall, aren't there?"

  "Yes, there must be young Linjeni," said Serena. "I guess you could callthem children."

  Splinter slid down to the bottom of the little watercourse and flopped downon his stomach. He pressed his cheek to the sand and peered through a tiny gapleft under the fence where it crossed the stream bed. "I can't see anybody,"he said, disappointed.

  They started back up the hill toward their quarters, walking silently,Splinter's hand whispering along the wall.

  "Mommie?" Splinter said as they neared the patio.

  "Yes, Splinter?"

  "That fence is to keep them in, isn't it?"

  "Yes," said Serena.

  "It doesn't feel like that to me," said Splinter. "It feels like it's toshut me out."

  Serena suffered through the next days with Thorn. She lay wide-eyed besidehim in the darkness of their bedroom, praying as he slept restlessly,struggling even in his sleep— groping for a way.

  Tight-lipped, she cleared away untouched meals and brewed more coffee. Herthoughts went hopefully with him every time he started out with new hope andresolution, and her spirits flagged and fell as he brought back dead end,stalemate and growing despair. And in-between times, she tried to keepSplinter on as even a keel as possible, giving him the freedom of the QuartersArea during the long, sunlit days and playing with him as much as possible inthe evenings.

  One evening Serena was pinning up her hair and keeping half an eye onSplinter as he splashed in his bath. He was gathering up handsful of foamingsoap bubbles and pressing them to his chin and cheeks.

  "Now I hafta shave like Daddy," he hummed to himself. "Shave, shave,shave!" He flicked the suds off with his forefinger. Then he scooped up a bigdouble handful of bubbles and pressed them all over his face. "Now I'm Doovie.I'm all over fuzzy like Doovie. Lookit, Mommie, I'm all over—" He opened hiseyes and peered through the suds to see if she was watching. Consequently,Serena spent a busy next few minutes helping him get the soap out of his eyes.When the tears had finally washed away the trouble, Serena sat towelingSplinter's relaxed little body.

  "I bet Doovie'd cry too, if he got soap in his eyes," he said with a sniff."Wouldn't he, Mommie?"

  "Doovie?" said Serena, "Probably. Almost anyone would. Who's Doovie?"

  She felt Splinter stiffen on her lap. His eyes wandered away from hers."Mommie, do you think Daddy will play with me a-morrow?"

  "Perhaps." She captured one of his wet feet. "Who's Doovie?"

  "Can we have pink cake for dessert tonight? I think I like pink—"

  "Who's Doovie?" Serena's voice was firm. Splinter examined his thumbnailcritically, then peered up at Serena out of the corner of his eye.

  "Doovie," he began, "Doovie's a little boy."

  "Oh?" said Serena. "A play-like little boy?"

  "No," Splinter whispered, hanging his head. "A real little boy. A Linjenilittle boy." Serena drew an astonished breath and Splinter hurried on, hiseyes intent on hers. "He's nice people, Mommie, honest! He doesn't say badwords or tell lies or talk sassy to his mother. He can run as fast as Ican—faster, if I stumb
le. He—he—," his eyes dropped again. "I like him—" Hismouth quivered.

  "Where did—-how could—I mean, the fence—" Serena was horrified andcompletely at a loss for words.

  "I dug a hole," confessed Splinter. "Under the fence where the sand is. Youdidn't say not to! Doovie came to play. His mommie came, too. She's pretty.Her fur is pink, but Doovie's is nice and green. All over!" Splinter got

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  excited. "All over, even where his clothes are! All but his nose and eyes and

  ears and the front of his hands!"

  "But Splinter, how could you! You might have got hurt! They might have—"

  Serena hugged him tight to hide her face from him.

  Splinter squirmed out of her arms. "Doovie wouldn't hurt anyone. You know

  what, Mommie? He can shut his nose! Yes, he can! He can shut his nose and fold

  up his ears! I wish I could. It'd come in handy. But I'm bigger'n he is and I

  can sing and he can't. But he can whistle with his nose and when I try, I just

  blow mine. Doovie's nice!"

  Serena's mind was churning as she helped Splinter get into his night

  clothes. She felt the chill of fear along her forearms and the back of her

  neck. What to do now? Forbid Splinter's crawling under the fence? Keep him

  from possible danger that might just be biding its time? What would Thorn say?

  Should she tell him? This might precipitate an incident that—

  "Splinter, how many times have you played with Doovie?"

  "How many?" Splinter's chest swelled under his clean pajamas. "Let me

  count," he said importantly and murmured and mumbled over his fingers for a

  minute. "Four times!" he proclaimed triumphantly. "One, two, three, four whole

  times!"

  "Weren't you scared?"

  "Naw!" he said, adding hastily, "Well, maybe a little bit the first time. I

  thought maybe they might have tails that liked to curl around people's necks.

  But they haven't," disappointed, "only clothes on like us with fur on under."

  "Did you say you saw Doovie's mother, too?"

  "Sure," said Splinter. "She was there the first day. She was the one that

  sent all the others away when they all crowded around me. All grownups. Not

  any kids excepting Doovie, They kinda pushed and wanted to touch me, but she

  told them to go away, and they all did 'cepting her and Doovie."

  "Oh Splinter!" cried Serena, overcome by the vision of his small self

  surrounded by pushing, crowding Linjeni grownups who wanted to "touch him."

  "What's the matter, Mommie?" asked Splinter.

  "Nothing, dear." She wet her lips. "May I go along with you the next time

  you go to see Doovie? I'd like to meet his mother."

  "Sure, sure!" cried Splinter. "Let's go now. Let's go now!"

  "Not now," said Serena, feeling the reaction of her fear in her knees and

  ankles. "It's too late. Tomorrow we'll go see them. And Splinter, let's not

  tell Daddy yet. Let's keep it a surprise for a while."

  "Okay, Mommie," said Splinter. "It's a good surprise, isn't it? You were

  awful surprised, weren't you?"

  "Yes, I was," said Serena. "Awful surprised."

  Next day Splinter squatted down and inspected the hole under the fence.

  "It's kinda little," he said. "Maybe you'll get stuck."

  Serena, her heart pounding in her throat, laughed. "That wouldn't be very

  dignified, would it?" she asked. "To go calling and get stuck in the door."

  Splinter laughed. "It'd be funny," he said. "Maybe we better go find a

  really door for you."

  "Oh, no," said Serena hastily. "We can make this one bigger."

  "Sure," said Splinter. "I'll go get Doovie and he can help dig."

  "Fine," said Serena, her throat tightening. Afraid of a child, she mocked

  herself. Afraid of a Linjeni—aggressor —invader, she defended.

  Splinter flattened on the sand and slid under the fence. "You start

  digging," he called. "I'll be back!"

  Serena knelt to the job, the loose sand coming away so readily that she

  circled her arms and dredged with them.

  Then she heard Splinter scream.

  For a brief second, she was paralyzed. Then he screamed again, closer, and

  Serena dragged the sand away in a frantic frenzy. She felt the sand scoop down

  the neck of her blouse and the skin scrape off her spine as she forced herself

  under the fence.

  Then there was Splinter, catapulting out of the shrubbery, sobbing and

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  screaming, "Doovie! Doovie's drownd-ing! He's in the go'fish pond! All underthe water! I can't get him out! Mommie, Mommie!"

  Serena grabbed his hand as she shot past and towed him along, stumbling anddragging, as she ran for the goldfish pond. She leaned across the low wall andcaught a glimpse, under the churning thrash of the water, of green mossy furand staring eyes. With hardly a pause except to shove Splinter backward andstart a deep breath, she plunged over into the pond. She felt the burning biteof water up her nostrils and grappled in the murky darkness for Doovie—feelingagain and again the thrash of small limbs that slipped away before she couldgrasp them.

  Then she was choking and sputtering on the edge of the pond, pushing thestill-struggling Doovie up and over. Splinter grabbed him and pulled as Serenaheaved herself over the edge of the pond and fell sprawling across Doovie.'

  Then she heard another higher, shriller scream and was shoved off Doovieviciously and Doovie was snatched up into rose pink arms. Serena pushed herlank, dripping hair out of her eyes and met the hostile glare of the rose pinkeyes of Doovie's mother.

  Serena edged over to Splinter and held him close, her eyes intent on theLinjeni. The pink mother felt the green child all over anxiously and Serenanoticed with an odd detachment that Splinter hadn't mentioned that Doovie'seyes matched his fur and that he had webbed feet.

  Webbed feet! She began to laugh, almost hysterically. Oh Lordy! No wonderDoovie's mother was so alarmed.

  "Can you talk to Doovie?" asked Serena of the sobbing Splinter.

  "No!" wailed Splinter. "You don't have to talk to play."

  "Stop crying, Splinter," said Serena. "Help me think. Doovie's motherthinks we were trying to hurt Doovie. He wouldn't drown in the water.Remember, he can close his nose and fold up his ears. How are we going to tellhis mother we weren't trying to hurt him?"

  "Well," Splinter scrubbed his cheeks with the back of his hand. "We couldhug him—"

  "That wouldn't do, Splinter," said Serena, noticing with near panic thatother brightly colored figures were moving among the shrubs, drawingcloser—"I'm afraid she won't let us touch him."

  Briefly she toyed with the idea of turning and trying to get back to thefence, then she took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

  "Let's play-like, Splinter," she said. "Let's show Doovie's mother that wethought he was drowning. You go fall in the pond and I'll pull you out. Youplay-like drowned and I'll—I'll cry."

  "Gee, Mommie, you're crying already!" said Splinter, his face puckering.

  "I'm just practicing," she said, steadying her voice. "Go on."

  Splinter hesitated on the edge of the pond, shrinking away from the waterthat had fascinated him so many times before. Serena screamed suddenly, andSplinter, startled, lost his balance and fell in. Serena had hold of himalmost before he went under water and pulled him out, cramming as much of fearand apprehension into her voice and actions as she could. "Be dead," shewhispered fiercely. "Be dead all over!" And Splinter melted so completely inher arms that her moans and cries of sorrow were only partly make-believe. Shebent over his still form
and rocked to and fro in her grief.

  A hand touched her arm and she looked up into the bright eyes of theLinjeni. The look held for a long moment and then the Linjeni smiled, showingeven, white teeth, and a pink, furry hand patted Splinter on the shoulder. Hiseyes flew open and he sat up. Doovie peered around from behind his mother andthen he and Splinter were rolling and tumbling together, wrestling happilybetween the two hesitant mothers. Serena found a shaky laugh somewhere inamong her alarms and Doovie's mother whistled softly with her nose.

  That night, Thorn cried out in his sleep and woke Serena. She lay in thedarkness, her constant prayer moving like a candle flame in her mind. Shecrept out of bed and checked Splinter in his shadowy room. Then she knelt and

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  opened the bottom drawer of Splinter's chest-robe. She ran her hand over the

  gleaming folds of the length of Linjeni material that lay there—the material

  the Linjeni had found to wrap her in while her clothes dried. She had given

  them her lacy slip in exchange. Her fingers read the raised pattern in the

  dark, remembering how beautiful it was in the afternoon sun. Then the sun was

  gone and she saw a black ship destroyed, a home craft plunging to incandescent

  death, and the pink and green and yellow and all the other bright furs

  charring and crisping and the patterned materials curling before the last

  flare of flame. She leaned her head on her hand and shuddered.

  But then she saw the glitter of a silver ship, blackening and fusing,

  dripping monstrously against the emptiness of space. And heard the wail of a

  fatherless Splinter so vividly that she shoved the drawer in hastily and went

  back to look at his quiet sleeping face and to tuck him unnecessarily in.

  When she came back to bed, Thorn was awake, lying on his back, his elbows

  winging out.

  "Awake?" she asked as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

  "Yes." His voice was tense as the twang of a wire. "We're getting nowhere,"

  he said. "Both sides keep holding up neat little hoops of ideas, but no one is