by Darrell Bain
The two security men loaded their baggage and escorted them onto the sled, eyes alert. Even the lead sled carrying Kristi and Masters had its own contingent of security guards. Whitmire was taking no chances. Unconsciously, Jamie touched the small saucer-sized thought disk in his pocket.
The spaceship, except for the main computer and generator controls was complete, but there still might be need of the disk, and since Jamie was going, the disk would go along with him. No one else could use it, and there was still unresolved information contained on it, for all of his six months work.
All the pets had ridden on sleds before, which slid along on super conducting rails, so that was no novelty to them. They went quietly aboard, followed by Jamie, Jeannie and the security men, and the conveyance moved smoothly away, toward the floater landing field.
Jamie and Jeannie sat quietly, holding hands with fingers intertwined. As the sled picked up speed, they both began unconsciously taking in the passing sights almost as if recording them. This might very well be their last look at the huge sprawling Enclave, and it was the only home they had ever known. Most of the old city of the previous century had been replaced, but there was still a scattering of single homes not yet razed and steel and concrete office buildings which had been converted to housing. With the collapse of most of earth's economy, there was no longer a need for them. In residential areas, people were out, either coming home from a night shift of going to their day jobs. All traveled by the ubiquitous little sleds, or walked. Other than floaters, there was no other transportation available. Many of the pedestrians leaving for work traveled in little groups of three or four, representing families.
Once the human genome had been resolved, it was a relatively easy matter to cure most diseases, including the venereal ones. The present-day casual sexuality was a reflection of that, plus the almost complete break-up of any organized religions. For most of the world's population, hell had already arrived on earth, and the Enclaves represented the only heaven available.
The floater landing field was located at the site of the old intercontinental field but there was only memories remaining of its once busy skies and giant aircraft. Floaters were the workhorses of such intercontinental trade as remained. Theywere powered by an efficient combination of solarmagnetic energy and rechargeable fuel cells. If there was one thing not lacking in the Enclave, it was power. The city had been providentially lucky in getting a fusion plant completed before the breakdown of commerce, and it supplied all the power the Enclave would ever need.
Paradoxically, machinery to use that power was scarce, and getting more so. Overland transportation was no longer possible, and the floaters could not keep up with the demand for raw materials, even when they could be obtained.
The sled pulled to a stop at the edge of the field where two floaters were already waiting. The pilots were standing together engaged in conversation while they waited for the sleds. As the sled unloaded its contingent of passengers, they glanced up and did a double take at the plethora of pets emerging with the humans. Pets were one of the few items they almost never transported. They recovered quickly, however, and the smaller man, almost pure Asian by looks, acted as spokesman.
“I reckon y'all must be the group we're waiting’ for. I'm Manny Kim, and this feller here is Buddy Wilson. If y'all gents and ladies and, um, other passengers will step up here a little closer, I'll give y'all a quick brief.” For all his looks, his accent was pure Texan, as if it were popping out from a hidden time machine fixed in the previous century. Jamie smiled reminiscently. His father had talked like that.
“We'll be making two stops along the way,” Kim told them. “One at the little Mobile Enclave and the other at Disney. I want to caution y'all now: The Disney Enclave is having some problems. There's fighting going on, against both feral animals and rioters. We'll be down just long enough to switch batteries, so don't wander off. Stay close to the craft."
“What kind of animals?” Masters asked, his professional curiosity aroused.
“Swamp rabbits.” The pilot spread his hands disgustedly. “Who woulda thought? Rabbits, for Chrissake!"
All three dogs immediately began salivating. Jamie noticed and spoke sharply. “Stop it, you three. No hunting. You stay with us, understand?” He held their eyes to show them he meant it.
“They understand English?"
Jamie nodded, hoping that the pets did understand Kim's brand of English.
“Awright. You furry people stay close, too. We won't be down long, and anybody missing when we're ready to leave gets left. Grab your baggage and load up.” He looked up at the sky, grateful for the fair weather. Floaters flew low, and the more scenery his passengers had to look at, the fewer questions they were likely to bother him with.
Jamie and Jeannie each gave Kristi a quick kiss and hug, and the pilots helped them into their seats. Kristi carried Princess in her arms, but Fuzzy Britches elected to jump into the craft on his own. He loved cuddling from any of his humans, but in the presence of strangers, he preferred to maintain what he thought of as the superior dignity of cats.
Fuzzy Britches was allowed to reside in Jamie's lap, where his claws would enable him to maintain a grip on the seat—or on Jamie—if the need arose, but the dogs were relegated to the near-empty cargo section, where Kim quickly rigged a cage of netting to protect them. The floater was nearly stripped to allow more range.
“All set? Control, ready to go.” The coordinates were already loaded into the craft's computer, and the AI controlling traffic answered almost immediately. “Cleared for takeoff. Autopilot will command for next ten minutes, mark.” A digital readout on the pilot's board began blinking, and the floater rose into the air.
* * * *
The vast Houston Galveston Enclave spread out beneath them as the floater gained altitude. As it leveled off and headed east, Jamie could see the curve of the barricades stretching for miles in either direction, so large that the broken oval shape adjoining the gulf appeared as a straight Line from ground level. From the air, the streams and bayous flowing into the gulf were a muddy brown, the result of erosion from far upstream where a plague of grasshoppers had stripped many square miles of vegetation from central Texas.
Directly beyond the barriers in all directions except the gulf, tangled vegetation had almost completely covered the ruins of towns, cities, and hamlets. From the air it gave the appearance of a vast carpet of varicolored green, streaked with occasional ovals of lakes and brown strings of running water. As they flew farther east, the streams cleared and turned a brighter hue, glistening in the clear sunshine. Jamie thought it fascinating, but sad. Once man had tamed most of this vast land, broken to his service like a team of oxen. Now nature was reclaiming—had reclaimed—her own. The thick woods and undergrowth seemed to stretch forever, peopled now by denizens far fiercer and far more intelligent than had ever met the first pioneers on their journey west.
“Ruins of New Orleans,” the pilot announced presently.
Jamie peered past Jeannie's face, which was pressed in utter fascination against the bubble canopy of the passenger's area. Broken, ravaged buildings stood forlornly in lakes of water, like headstones in a mirrored graveyard. The mighty Mississippi, thwarted for a century and a half by human engineers from the birth of a new river bed, had at last broken through the dikes and found a new equilibrium. The city had not been in the path of the river, but nevertheless, the inundation of vast areas east of it had broken the back of the city's defenses. What remained of New Orleans was ruled by feuding swarms of feral animals, driven by population pressure to exploit the newly released lands and hunt down and kill for food what humans had survived the floods.
Gazing out over the vast area of destruction, Jamie reflected on the consequences of his own profession. Such great expectations, such hope and dreams the old genetic engineers had had! Better crops, disease cures, intelligent animals designed to help and serve their human designers. And now look. In another century, there might be
no humans left on earth, other than those few tolerated by packs of animals for their limited usefulness, hands for tool making and a still slightly superior brain. He turned his gazeaway, uttering a futile oath under his breath.
“Did you say something, Jamie?"
“No,” Jamie said quietly. “I didn't say anything."
* * *
CHAPTER SIX
In the other craft, Kristi and Masters were not nearly so curious about the outside world. As rangers, they had already seen all they ever needed to of the ravaged countryside. Gazing at overgrown ruins or silt-laden rivers could tell them nothing they didn't already know.
Princess was curled contentedly in Kristi's lap, and Lady and Wolfgang, Masters’ large brown and black German Shepherd were resting in the cargo area beneath safety netting. Kristi idly stroked her cat's long silky hair, thinking of the previous night. Jamie was such a dear, for a man, and for the first time in her life, she thought she had found a woman she would not tire of. And she was pregnant. Jamie's baby for certain, and to hell with Enclave population allotments. Jamie's 1A genome would remove some of theonus of an unauthorized pregnancy, and besides, how could the birthrate agency control conception light-years from earth? She smiled to herself at the thought.
“You've changed, Kristi,” Masters remarked from her side. Kristi was his most trusted Lieutenant, and at one time he had been concerned with her lack of emotional stability.
“I suppose I have. Jamie has been good for Jeannie and me as well. I never thought I would be such a settled old lady, and—"
“And?"
“And pregnant.” Damn. Now why did I tell him that?
Masters’ weathered brown wrinkles turned into his boyish grin. “Jamie's, I hope?"
Kristi grinned back at him. “Why do you care, you old false alarm?"
“I always care, Kristi, more than you might imagine. But do you think this is wise? This isn't a simple patrol we're going on."
“Maybe that's the reason.” She lifted her hand from the smooth fur of Princess’ flank and took one of the Captain's calloused hands in both of hers. “Do you think the Birthrate Agency will give me problems?"
Masters laughed. “I don't see how. I think we'll be a little out of their jurisdiction for a while.” The grin lines faded from his face. “I just hope we get back before you slow down. I have a sneaking suspicion that we're going to be needed."
Kristi squeezed his hand with a sudden gentleness. “Troy, you're always needed. If it hadn't been for you..."
“Now, Kristi, use your common sense. Everyone had a hand to play on that expedition. I did no more than you or anyone else. And if you don't turn loose of my hand you may find yourself giving an old man ideas he can't live up to.” He grinned to show he was kidding.
Kristi wasn't so sure. “That will be the day. Any time you can't live up to what you imagine is the day I'm finding a new Captain."
“Well, don't start looking yet. I guess I'm not that decrepit."
“You don't even seem old to me.” And he doesn't really, Kristi thought. He's still strong and quick, and he's one of the finest men I'veever known. And there go my thoughts, running wild again. Is this what being pregnant is like?
“Well, let's leave that alone. Does Jamie know yet?"
“No and I'm not going to tell him. I want to see how long it will take him to notice."
Masters smiled again. “Don't sell Jamie short. He notices a lot more than you might imagine. He just doesn't say much."
“I know. He's like you in that respect. That's one of his main appeals."
“Am I a Father image now?” Masters asked, grinning some more.
“Never!” Kristi said emphatically, then turned away, embarrassed for the first time since she was fourteen.
* * * *
In Moon City a less pleasant conversation was taking place. Rob Passing possessed one of the larger offices in the warren, including a little alcove containing a couch and chair behind his desk and computer alcove.
Della Worley was sitting in the only other chair in the office, hands clasped tightly together in her lap, face taunt and fearful. Under more favorable circumstances, Della could have been a model for an antique Barbi Doll. She was tall and slim. Her small breasts peeked through the curled strands of flowing blonde hair, decorated with only the slightest bit of make-up. She wore a pair of tight shorts, riding high on lightly curved hips and cut in a V to below her navel. Her only other clothing consisted of a pair of slippers and two small red ribbons restraining tiny ear curls.
“You understand what your assignment is?” Passing asked. His voice was pleasantly mellow, but to Della it seemed to be tinged with a bit of cruel apprehension, like a bad tempered child getting all set to squash a frog.
“Tell me again,” Della said. Oh, God. Why did I ever try to fake a genomic profile for Timmy? We could have been happy without it. I should have known I would get caught, and now he'll never let me go.
Passing observed her critically, noting the almost palpable fear and hatred enveloping her like a black shroud but giving it only his clinical attention. Her feelings were the least of his concern; only her usefulness mattered to him. “Jamie Da Cruz holds the key to the spaceship computer. We want that knowledge, and we want you to worm it out of him. All of the intelligence on him we have shows that he's an easy mark for a pretty, sexy woman. That's your key. Of the two women he's involved with now, one likes to swing the other way, and the other is a little kid, as empty headed as a blank chip. If you can't break up that combination then your looks far outweigh your talents."
“I understand,” Della said.
“I don't think you do, quite yet. I let you off easy before, when you tried that little stunt with the computer genetic ratings. Fail this time, and you know what the penalties are."
“I know.” Sterilization. Short rations. Unending work in the mines, under the harshest of circumstances. If there was a way to live under earth gravity, I swear I'd defect, if there was a way to do it safely—but there isn't. And never a chance of a baby. Never a marriage and a home.
“Good. And just to be sure, we're going to test your talents.” Passing grinned cruelly. He stood up and made the door to his little alcove go away, displaying the couch.
I can endure it, Della thought. I can endure it, and sooner or later you'll make a mistake. Then, you sorry son of a deranged robot, you'll pay for this. She entered the little room with him, concealing her reluctance as best she could.
Semi-nudity in Moon City didn't have the same meaning as it might have on earth. Harsher conditions in the warren dictated a more tightly controlled sexuality. Passing was conducting a rape, pure and simple. Had he understood the earth culture better, he might have acted differently, leading Della gently into his proposed seduction of Jamie, but perhaps not. Police state methods were never very gentle, and there were always individuals such as he willing to take advantage of positions of power.
Della was not really as experienced in sex as her looks might indicate, and Passing could not have made a worse mistake if he had tried. His actions would come back to haunt him.
* * * *
From the air, Jamie could see swarms of rabbits beating against the barriers of the Disney Enclave, almost like waves from the ocean so great was the population pressure and desire of the long-eared enhanced rodents for the greenery inside, the only sign of vegetation for miles around. He had no idea why they should be exploding in such numbers in this particular area or why predators had not kept their population under control, and he would probably never know. All of earth was ecologically unbalanced by the swarms of enhanced animals, and it might be centuries before a balance was reached, if it ever was, and all of earth might be turned into a desert before that happened. A pall of smoke obscured the northern edge of the enclave where there was either rioting or where flame was being used to control the rodents. As their floater touched down on the landing field, he could hear intermittent gunfire in the distance.
>
He need not have worried about the pets wanting to chase rabbits. The sounds of guns and explosions and the waft of singed fur hanging in the air was enough to keep them close. Armed men and women scurried about the landing field while armed floaters landed and descended in rotation. Jamie thought he could detect looks of envy from the technicians changing their batteries, as if they would like nothing better than to abandon their tasks and get out of the besieged city. He was more than glad when Kim hustled them back into the craft and they were once again airborne.
Jeannie was scared and breathless, her face horror stricken. She leaned against him from the adjoining seat burying her face against his shoulder. Presently he felt wetness there from her tears. When she spoke, her voice quavered. “Oh, God, Jamie, I'm glad we're going into space. The earth is dying, isn't it?"
“It's bad, all right,” Jamie said, “but don't give up hope. We'll live, somehow, and so will our kids."
“Our kids? Jamie, do you know?"
“I know. You're a brave girl, you and Kristi both. Somehow, some way, we'll survive. Maybe here, maybe on another world, but we'll live. Believe me, we will.” Jamie put all his heart into that assurance, trying very hard to convince Jeannie—and himself—of the truthfulness of his statements.
* * *
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sean Johnson laughed as his pet raccoon, Bandit, lost his footing on the slick surface of the glazed rock table and floated slowly to the floor, front legs akimbo but clutching nothing but air as the gentle gravity of the moon drew him slowly downward. The male and female rats he had been tussling with squeaked happily. It was a rare day when they won a contest with the enhanced raccoon. Like it, their heads were larger than those of their ancestors, with neck and shoulders more heavily muscled for support. Sean had named them Randy and Pandy, for some obscure reason, and of course, what else could the only raccoon in Moon City be named but Bandit?
