“That only shows that you don’t really understand our society, and especially the attitude of our males,” she stated bitterly. “We females equate to what you humans call ‘second-class citizens’. We have few ‘rights’, we cannot own land and we are not allowed to vote in choosing our leaders. Finally, there is strong competition between too many females for the attention, much less a hope for real love, of too few males.”
“Wait…wait a minute!” Ross exclaimed as he held his hands up to stop her tirade. “Are you saying that there’s a…a ‘population imbalance’ on your homeworld, and that the majority of the people—the females—have no control over the government, much less their own lives?”
She nodded solemnly, saying, “Despite our undisputed rabbit ancestry, we have a low birthrate and small families, and female births outnumber male births over three-to-one. It…it was not always thus.” Ross knew only what the general public knew, and he had never heard of this; it showed in his shocked expression. “You humans still wage wars for territory, power and expansion; once we did the same,” she explained. “Long ago our society was much different, far more socially equitable, and our population was far larger than it is now. Still, we fought terrible, generations-long wars for control of land used to grow food for our teeming billions.” Her expression was harder, more alien than any he’d ever seen on an H’kaah. “During that nightmare time a few of the scientists of one faction devised a terrible biological weapon— a genetic virus—that drastically reduced H’kaah birthrate, as well as reduced the percentage of males born. Since these wars raged on for so many years it was reasoned that the use of such a biological agent would significantly reduce the ability of the enemy faction to replace their casualties, thereby eliminating their ability to make war.
“What the scientists failed to take into account was that, once released, the biological weapon was impossible to control, and it eventually spread world-wide. It altered ALL of us!” Her sorrowful expression almost broke Ross’ heart. “During this time there were scientists still capable of reversing the damage, but when the truth was revealed it caused such an outrage that they were hunted down by vengeful mobs and killed.” She sighed. “The angry fools killed the very scientists who could have produced a counteragent, and the knowledge of how to reverse the crime died with them.”
Ross was appalled. Nowhere in anything he’d read or heard regarding the H’kaah was there any mention of them having a sexually-tiered social order, nor had he seen any historical evidence of them having a violent, warlike past. “When humankind found us,” she stated, “you found a totally stagnant society. We have a rigid social order that allows wealthy, powerful males to have more than one wife, but even with that we have a high number of unmarried females.”
The man was learning things no other human apparently knew. Or did they?
“Is it any wonder,” S’leen continued, “that we females so readily accepted the frightful challenge of living on another world, of trying to survive while living with terrifying meat-eating aliens? There is no hope for most females on our homeworld to live full, productive lives, so why shouldn’t we wish for something better among the stars! And, yes, there are a few males interested in the Patrons program; in any large group there will always be a certain percentage of the people in power who are still unhappy with what you call the status quo.”
S’leen paused to take a long drink of her neglected soda. She burped, then said with conviction, “But don’t think my feelings for your father are false; they are very real, and I love him with all my heart. He showed me love and tenderness that our males seldom bother to express. Why should they, when they have a wide selection of willing mates to choose from? Your father claims our society is in many ways similar to your early Japanese in how it relates to honor and duty, and I guess that is true. Without such rigid social controls our males would no doubt impregnate every female within reach, and even with our restricted birthrate we would soon breed ourselves out of room.
“So you see, Honorable Captain Cory Ross,” S’leen stiffly explained, “when your father awakens as an H’kaah male he will no doubt desire a female far more ‘exciting’ than I to be his consort.”
She sighed, adding, “And I will go back to my homeworld.”
“Don’t bet on it!” Ross suddenly snarled, shocking the H’kaah with his passion. “If there’s one thing I’m certain about in all this, it’s how my father feels about you. He won’t abandon you; he will need you, and I guarantee you won’t go back to your homeworld unless YOU choose to do so.”
Confusion chased emotions all over S’leen’s face, and after several false starts she finally said, “But—how can say that? Without a patron I have no reliable income; I don’t even have a place to live. I will have to return to my homeworld!”
Cory Ross stood, smiled and extended his arms to the seated alien. “The answer to all your questions is standing right in front of you,” he warmly said. “I’m not going to hurt you, but I am going to put your mind at ease, and I’ll start by offering you the comfort and security of my arms.” She slowly stood and approached the young man. True to his word, he did nothing more than embrace the soft, trembling alien.
“Welcome to our extended family, S’leen,” he gently said. “I know I can speak for Trudy when I say that we’re glad to have you aboard.” This close to her he suddenly realized that her mild, musky scent was more than a little exciting. Damn! he thought, no wonder these aliens are so popular! “As for not having a patron or an income or even a place to live,” he said with a smile as they broke the embrace, “all of those are non-issues. You’ll live right where you’ve been living, since with Dad ‘officially dead’ Trudy and I will inherit his property as well as the automobile dealership, and we’ll certainly need people to manage things.” When she didn’t seem to understand, he added, “We’ll need at least a pair of caretakers, S’leen. And what better way for Dad to both continue his work and keep an eye on things back home than to pose as an H’kaah companion to the person managing the dealership, and I know just who my sister and I will put into that position, too. When Dad’s not helping run the store, he’ll be with you at the estate.”
S’leen still looked confused, then she frowned. “But how can that be? Patrons’ rules state that a human can only have one companion—”
“I’m still a step ahead of you, Dear,” Cory Ross said with a grin. “If you and Dad have no objections I’ll go on public record as your patron. And since I have a military career to pursue it would certainly appear natural for you to help care for my interests while I’m not on Earth, right?” She slowly nodded and he gave her a final, quick squeeze. “Good! Now let’s rejoin the party and see how our new H’kaah citizen is coming along.”
They left the confines of the little starship, and as they walked toward the partly buried research building Ross commented with a wide grin, “While I’m the first to admit that it’s not entirely accurate, I think it’s absolutely incredible that I’m going to be the first man to have a rabbit for a father!”
S’leen squealed indignantly, then leaned over and bit him on the arm.
* * *
When first built, the alien devices known to the Mn’rii as cybernetic boxes had been in a dormant state, but once activated each became, in a very special way, alive. Those who had built them followed little-understood plans, believing the devices to be nothing more than strange machines designed to remove, store and transfer a living being’s mental matrix to a prepared receptacle, normally another living being’s blank brain.
Their builders never imagined such devices could have lives of their own, or that they could, and often did, communicate with each other. There were, at present, four cybernetic boxes, each one having been used numerous times to initiate and complete mental matrix transferences. Up to this time only Mn’rii, H’kaah and one other herbivore species, the bipedal, deer-like Delt, had been subjected to the boxes’ unique processes, but now one of the boxes was experi
encing something new.
A creature of incredible violence, unspeakable brutality and cruelty—it called itself a human—had undergone the mental matrix extraction and storage procedure, and the cybernetic box housing the human’s mental matrix was determined to learn as much as possible about this strange, complex sentient being, as well as the society that spawned it.
In mere electronic moments the device also discovered that humanity had been gifted with a 7th level physics device (they called it a jumperdrive) that had made practical interstellar travel available to everyone—as long as humans controlled it. The reason humankind had been singled out for the jumperdrive boon was the next item it had to discover. Soon, it knew, it would be directed to transfer the human’s mental matrix to the awaiting brain of a docile, herbivore male H’kaah, and the reason for such an unusual procedure was a matter that, in itself, warranted much closer study. Such information could prove to be vitally important to the cybernetic box’s unseen masters.
What the alien device had no way of knowing was that its new subject was an anomaly among his peers. Comparing Jack Ross to the average human was like comparing a pit viper to a pollywog.
* * *
The mental matrix that comprised the entire being of Jack Ross was restless. While confined in the alien cybernetic box Ross’ mind had no conscious thought, yet it had a form of awareness akin to that of a dream state.
And its dreams were not pleasant ones.
A human mind trapped in an alien machine is, in itself, a concept guaranteed to bring chills of dread to the toughest, bravest soul. Ross’ mind experienced bizarre flashes and memory potsherds of situations long forgotten, of each and every death that bloodied his hands, and of scenarios that never really happened. Nightmarish H. R. Giger-style biomechanical monstrosities manifested themselves throughout the real and pseudo images, and Ross’ dreaming mind often tried to scream in terror. But as in nightmares of the more-normal variety in which the dreamer seldom has that capability, Ross had to endure the seemingly endless horrors of hell in mute silence.
* * *
As Cory Ross and S’leen reentered the Mn’rii laboratory they noticed several things: The human and H’kaah visitors were now clustered in a far corner of the room, and the Mn’rii scientists appeared to be busier than ever. Jack Ross’ brain-wiped, helpless form was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s my father’s body?” the younger Ross demanded.
Chief scientist Eeoi’ha appeared unruffled by Ross’ sharp question, answering calmly with, “Even on advanced life-support it was failing rapidly, so we placed it in stasis until such time as we can devote full attention to reversing the damages done by the shooting and subsequent medical procedures on your homeworld. At this time our priority is getting your father’s mental matrix safely moved to the host body, and to that end we could not afford the potential distractions a dying body can generate.”
Ross was shocked. “Stasis? Like in science fiction-type ‘suspended animation’, where you flip a switch and a shimmering beam of light brings everything it touches to a screeching halt?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Is this another 7th level physics device? Just how many more surprises do you people have?”
Eeoi’ha blinked and nervously twitched the tip of his thick, otter-like tail. “To our knowledge the stasis effect you describe exists only in your ‘science fiction’. We use a chemical process that works on living organic matter, and it does not ‘suspend’ everything; it merely slows it down by a factor of one ten-thousand. Instead of a 7th level physics process, it is merely an injection of a catalytic enzyme that quickly permeates every cell in the subject’s body. It was invented by a Ruug’h scientist looking for a way to protect fresh meat from decay, and we traded them some of our advanced medical technology in exchange for the process. We are currently negotiating with human scientists and politicians who, we feel, will ultimately trade us the jumperdrive technology, or at least the means to produce it, for access to this medically valuable procedure.” He pointed to a coffin-shaped container near the far wall. “If you are still interested, over there is Jack Ross’ human body. It is alive yet still dying, but it now deteriorates at such a retarded pace that it will stay ‘fresh’ until we have time to work on it.”
Cory Ross and S’leen stood looking at the silvery container; they did not approach it. After a series of bird-like whistles and chirps were bounced around the room by the otter-like aliens, Eeoi’ha stated, “We are ready to place Jack Ross’ mental matrix into its new home, and in a few of your minutes we will see if all this work was worthwhile.”
“I…I don’t understand,” S’leen hesitantly said. “You said it had been done some twenty three times. Why would it not be ‘worthwhile’?”
The Mn’rii scientist looked at the female H’kaah and twittered a humorless laugh. “We have never tried placing the mental matrix of a sentient predator into a sentient ‘prey’ host,” he said, “nor have we ever done anything with a human subject. There is, unfortunately, a substantial possibility of an unforeseen neurological compatibility issue. Such a complication could, unfortunately, drive Jack Ross totally, irrecoverably insane.”
* * *
In Jack Ross’ dreaming pseudo-mind the nightmare images suddenly stopped, but like a musical instrument’s string that has been plucked or otherwise impacted, Ross’ artificially maintained psyche continued to vibrate for an indeterminate amount of non-time. Yet in nightmares, as in other events, there is both a beginning and an end, and eventually his mental matrix reached a level of tranquility that signified it was ready to be moved.
Like water rushing down a drain, Jack Ross’ essence began flowing from the cybernetic box into the awaiting H’kaah host, and again following the water analogy, his essence quickly soaked into the various physiological nooks and crannies of the human-size lapin brain. Ross was aware of a seemingly endless falling, of some memory flashes fading away and others becoming painfully clear. In time his psyche settled into a deep, dreamless sleep, but after all too short a time of restful oblivion he snorted himself mostly awake. Ross felt the pressure of a hard table beneath his body, and was distantly pleased to know that he could once again feel his body. Strange-sounding mutterings and mysterious noises could be heard coming from different places around him, and another distant part of his mind expressed pleasure that he had regained his hearing. Ross took a deep, strangely scented breath, sighed, then commanded his eyes to open.
* * *
Everything had gone according to plan. At least that’s what Eeoi’ha told the gathered humans and H’kaah as they watched the transference procedure’s anticlimactic ending. For the present they had to take his word for it; the observers didn’t have a clue as to what had actually taken place. All they could see was a pair of toaster-sized devices—the two cybernetic boxes, so they were told—now sitting quietly on a table against the wall. The body of the male H’kaah criminal once known as D’raan lay on one of the articulated lab tables, the large, multi-strand ribbon cable that had, until a few moments earlier, connected his skull to one of the cybernetic boxes was slowly being wound up by a Mn’rii technician, to be stored in a cabinet. Eeoi’ha quickly removed the dozen hair-thin insulated wire probes from the black-furred skull, sealing each wound with a clear drop of antiseptic glue. Then he removed the skeletal framework that had been clamped to the male H’kaah’s skull. An electronic sensor pad remained under the prone form’s head, and was connected to a small video display on a nearby table. “This monitors his EEG activity,” Eeoi’ha had explained while the technicians put away the last pieces of equipment.
Very impressive, very mysterious. Actually, very boring.
No flashing lights, no whirring gizmos, no sparks and smoke and dazzling movie-type pyrotechnics livened up the procedure. Everything of consequence had taken place at the electronic, sub-molecular level. After stating that Jack Ross’ mental matrix was still residing in the machine, no more than an hour had elapsed when Eeoi’ha ca
sually reported that the H’kaah body was now officially Jack Ross’ new physical home, and that he would soon be waking up.
“No shit!” Nolan Green softly exclaimed.
Shapiro answered in an equally soft voice, “Apparently not.”
“Will he even know us?” Lisa Thomas asked, the fear in her voice mirrored in the faces of both her human and H’kaah friends.
“I would advise everyone to remain silent,” Eeoi’ha softly said, “since it will take him an indeterminate amount of time to become accustomed to his new body’s physical characteristics. Acute hearing, I’m told,” he dryly commented, “is not a trait humans are known to possess.” He chirped a subdued laugh at his own joke, then added, “Until he becomes accustomed to his large, sensitive ears, Jack Ross may perceive our every whisper as a shout.”
“Oy!” Green said, shaking his head.
“Quiet, please,” a nearby Mn’rii technician hissed. “The readouts show that he is awake.”
* * *
Jack Ross’ furry eyelids reluctantly creaked open, but all he could comprehend was an unfocussed blur of random colors. “V-vhin er dey ginna deu de demned ting?” he managed to mutter in an annoyed tone of voice. “En vhissa metter vif mie meof? Eye kent cee, en Eye kent tok verf ay sheet!”
Cory Ross was the first to understand what the prone H’kaah was trying to say, and he quickly stepped up to the table and softly said, “Dad, it’s Cory. Just relax now; you need to quit fighting it so hard.” He reached out a slightly shaky hand to grasp the black-furred H’kaah’s shoulder. “The…the procedure is over, Dad,” he explained, “and it looks like it worked. Really! Your old wounded body is in some kind of low-energy sleep, and you’re now the proud owner of a late model, low-mileage ‘foreign’ job, complete with a high-performance engine, exotic bodywork and the damndest upholstery job you’ve ever seen.”
Redeeming Factors (Revised) Page 28
