by Darrell Bain
That seemed to be the consensus. Hawkins polled the assemblage then dismissed them. He asked Jamie and Masters to remain. Once they were alone he spoke privately to them. He smiled mirthlessly. “I was planning to go on regardless but I did want to see what the scientists thought."
“It seems a shame to just write off the Altairians after all their troubles,” Jamie said but then realized he was indulging in wistful thinking. So far they had not met a surviving Altairian and now it didn't look as if they would. Also, he was intrigued with Masters’ reasoning. Had the Altairians really come to grief in the same fashion as earth?"
“I don't see that we have a choice,” Hawkins said.
“Not really,” Masters agreed. “Jamie?"
“I guess so, Captain. Where next?"
“I'll get together with Westly and some of the others later today. We'll map out a run at the nearer G type stars and just see what we find. In the meantime there's this other matter of Della Worley."
Jamie felt immediately guilty, then on quick reflection, absolved himself. He couldn't see that he would have acted any different in other circumstances. Unless a person proved otherwise, as Della had, he was always willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. He still believed the woman must have been under some unbearable pressure to have acted as she had, especially in light of Fuzzy Britches’ remarks. He was surprised when Masters spoke up.
“Captain, I know you can't let her go free after what she did, but I think we have to look not at her, but what pressures induced her to try what she did. She doesn't strike me as a fanatic."
“Me either,” Jamie added quickly.
“What you both are saying, then, is that she had ulterior motives."
“Exactly,” Masters said. “Look to her superiors. That's where we can expect trouble if we do have any more."
“Here, or back home?"
“Back home. I think we should be very careful when we return, especially if we don't bring back anything worthwhile.” “I'll bear that in mind. One more thing. Jamie, your pet cat. What did he mean when he spoke out at the meeting?” “I'm not sure, yet, Captain. You have to realize, that for all their intelligence, our pets don't really think like we do. I trust him, though. He is utterly loyal—and he has more of a sense of how humans think than we do of how enhanced animals do."
“After the way he took care of Worley, I'm sure of that. Well, let's let that be for now. She didn't have a chance to try to recruit any of the other spacers on board, and, so far, none of them have given me any reason to suspect them. I'm willing to leave it at that, for the time being but I'll be awfully damn careful when we return."
* * * *
“Troy, I don't know what he meant,” Jamie said in response to Masters’ questioning as they walked back toward their quarters. He intended to ask Fuzzy Britches when opportunity presented, but he wasn't at all certain the cat would be in the mood until he had had a chance to forget the laughter which had greeted his unexpected remark.
“Just asking,” the ranger said. “I trust our pets a hell of a lot more than I do a lot of people."
“Me, too,” Jamie agreed. “Look. I'll talk to him after a while, once he's gotten over being laughed at. Cats hate that.” He stopped at the entrance to his compartment. “Do you want to come in for awhile?"
“Later. I need to think about a few things. If we're going to be exploring other planets. I want to rearrange our priorities. I don't think I want to have all the rangers out of the ship at one time again."
“I'll go along with that!” Jamie said.
* * *
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The holographic projection being displayed against the opposite wall from the huge bed was entirely Jeannie's work, although the motif originated with Jamie. He always liked to watch the intermingling of pets with humans, and especially liked the way Jeannie's imagination in programming displayed the reactions. A large bobcat, speckled with darker dots against an orange background crept into view. Intelligent, amber colored eyes watched interestedly while a nude woman reached from where she was submerged to the waist in a moss-banked pool to tickle her kittens under the chin. Their heads were large in comparison to their small bodies, and as young as they were, they had trouble supporting them, just as human babies did. The woman pulled herself half out of the water as he watched, displaying a body that made him think of peaches and cream. He watched idly as the bobcat crept closer, wondering how it would play out this time, the story repeating itself in infinite variety. The program was designed to sooth as much as entertain.
He stroked Fuzzy Britches’ back as the program played, watching the multi-colored fur spring back from his trailing hand as if it were made of softly coiled springs, smiling to himself at how the cat watched avidly as the bobcat crept further from the brush, nearer to the unsuspecting woman. Thoughts turned lazily in his mind, trying to form a pattern, while he discovered what other space travelers had before him: a passenger on a space ship really doesn't have much to do. Fuzzy Britches’ remark that the pets would take care of humans had gotten him to thinking of earth, and the implications for it of this trip. Suppose they found nothing to help with the pet plague out here in the galaxy. What then? Some of the Enclaves on earth might survive almost indefinitely, Houston being one of them, but only if some sort of climax ecology finally settled over the pet-plagued land. And even so, that was no real long-term solution. A static civilization would inevitably decay and finally fall. That had been proven over and over again, throughout history.
Moon City and the Space habitats were in even worse shape. Given another few decades of heavy trade with earth and they might become a viable, expanding culture, but trade with earth was shrinking, not growing. There was no alternative for them; they must go in another direction, whatever the cost. The Altairian technology gave them small hope, controlled as it was by earth. They had lost that fight. Or had they? Della Worley had attempted to take the ship, and there might be other plots still not revealed.
Another thought occurred to him. Suppose they did find another world, compatible with life and suitable for colonization—what then? Most of the space people still would be left wanting. Only those trained from childhood could live in a gravity field of a planet. Surely the whole adult population was not planning on sacrificing themselves so that their children could live. But perhaps they were. Jamie liked to think well of people, given the chance. Perhaps that was what had been in Della's mind: steal the ship for the benefit of their descendents. If it had, she had certainly been premature in her actions. A new inhabitable planet had yet to be found. Their first two stops after Altair had found planets circling the stars in abundance, but none of them were suitable for habitation, although one of them had contained life forms. A second showed the ruins of a civilization baking in a planet-wide desert, like broken pottery in a runaway kiln. They were on their way to yet another star.
As the flights repeated, Big Boy had refined the mechanics of the time stress fields and gravity generators to significantly decrease the duration of hops from star to star, increasing the likelihood of finding a compatible planet, though by no means was that guaranteed, and Jamie doubted that he would be allowed off the ship again until they returned, at least not until a landing party certified a planet as safe.
Fuzzy Britches worked his claws in the fabric of his coveralls, purring in rhythm to the kneading. Were the enhanced pets to be the ultimate inheritors of earth? Some of the scientists seemed to think so. Well, one thing was certain: the genie couldn't be put back in the bottle. And speaking of-or rather thinking of—
“Ouch! That hurts, Fuzz,” Jamie exclaimed as the cat's claws inadvertently touched his skin.
“Sorry,” Fuzzy Britches said, retracting his claws. “You should grow fur. Or strong skin."
“Sure. And strong muscles and good looks, too. How about some claws as well?” Jamie scratched behind Fuzzy Britches’ ears.
“Okay. Grow me muscles, too. Then I beat up Woggly.
"
It was possible. His own disease resistant body and longevity were the results of tinkering with human germ plasm. There were really no limits to what could be done, but by law and custom, and fear of altering the basic humanness of the species, all improvements in the human form had come from recombination of original genes, unlike the pets, who were the result of endowing them with many of the human genes for intelligence. Earlier in the century, before the formation of the Enclaves, there had been many clandestine experiments on humans, but during the madness which swept earth after the pets got loose, the altered humans had been either killed by mobs or taken refuge in the wilds, living on the sufferance of those animals who would protect them. Feral humans especially altered feral humans were the bugbears of present human culture.
Across the room, the life-like bobcat crouched, in plain view, now. It's stubby tail twitched. A tinkle of laughter came from the woman, still playing with the kittens. Maybe that was the answer. Muscles for..."
The bobcat sprang, landing in the middle of the pool with a huge splash. Jamie flinched involuntarily as globs of water arced toward him. He looked around guiltily as the water disappeared when it reached the limits of the holo projection to see if Jeannie had noticed his reaction. She was still asleep. Fuzzy Britches had scurried away, then turned back. He sat at the edge of the bed, using a paw to wipe imaginary water from his ears. The bobcat bared its fangs in feline laughter. It climbed from the pool and shook itself vigorously, then picked up a kitten and bounded into the brush.
“Where are the dogs?” Jamie asked Fuzzy Britches.
“Playing with Bandit and rats. These Rats nice. Not for dinner."
“Of course not."
“Pandy have kittens soon,” Fuzzy Britches announced.
“Pups,” Jamie corrected.
“Whatever.” The cat stretched and padded off of Jamie's chest onto Jeannie's, settling his head between her breasts. Jeannie murmured in her sleep and curled an arm around him.
I'm going for a walk,” Jamie announced. “If Jeannie wakes up before I get back, tell her I'll be back shortly."
“Okay,” Fuzzy Britches said.
* * * *
Jamie wasn't sure whom he wanted to see or what he wanted to do. His walk through the corridors of the huge ship eventually brought him past the entrance to the gymnasium. He hesitated, then decided that maybe a little exercise might help alleviate the boredom. At least it might keep the autodoc from chastising him about an increase in the fat content of his body. He couldn't see any difference, but the medically intelligent machine was never fooled.
Troy masters and Kristi looked up as he entered. They were both wrapped in the coils of exercise machines, sweating profusely as it worked their muscles in a program designed by the ship's autodoc. He waved for them to continue and let another machine get him started on his own program. He groaned as it started, then gradually narrowed his concentration as the machine instructed him. He was soon totally involved, and the instructions faded as he responded automatically to the manipulations of the tentacles. Later, sitting nude in the steamy sauna, he was struck by the lean musculature of the ranger captain sitting across from him. Only his hands and face reflected his age; the rest of his body compared favorably with a much younger man. Jamie thought that he must have to spend long hours on the machines to maintain such a youthful appearance, but politely, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he winked at Kristi sitting cattycornered between the two. He always enjoyed the sight of her body. It was sleek and firm, without an ounce of excess tissue. He knew that, like himself, her 1A genome was partly responsible, but she took nothing for granted.
Kristi winked back at him and briefly cupped her breasts, a private signal that she wouldn't mind some attention as soon as they were alone. Jamie was entirely willing, but he was still thoughtful.
“When is our next stop?” He asked, directing the question at Masters.
“Tomorrow, I think. Two days there, then onward and inward."
“Inward?"
“In towards the thicker part of the spiral arm,” Masters explained. “Hawkins has us scheduled for ten more stops, then back to earth."
“Why ten?"
“Just a matter of logistics, love,” Kristi explained. “The ship isn't really self-supporting, yet. Maybe the next time out it will be but there just wasn't time to include all the necessities this trip."
Another trip? “I don't want to go out again,” Jamie said.
Surprisingly, Masters agreed. “I don't either."
Jamie was startled. He would have thought that exploring strange planets would suit the ranger. “Why not?"
Masters considered before he answered. “You forget that I'm an old man, Jamie. Old men get set in their ways.
Besides I'm more interested in the happenings on earth. There's so much change going on there that we need to try to keep ahead of it. Then there is the old story about going to the well once too often."
“What's a well? And why go to it?"
Masters smiled gently. “Just an old saying. What it means is don't push your luck. I'm glad I came on this trip, and I
hope we can finish it without too much trouble, but that's it."
Kristi spoke up. “What he means is that if we keep on exploring strange places, sooner or later something is going to bite us, and badly."
“Right. Back when the rangers were first formed, we had horrendous casualties right on earth until we learned how to cope. This is like tackling a new earth every few days."
Jamie's heart jumped. His gaze strayed to Kristi's belly, still flat and slims, but nevertheless concealing a new life, a part of him as well as her. Suddenly he wanted the voyage to be over, to be back on earth, in the familiar confines of the Houston Enclave.
* * *
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Della Worley felt the by now familiar disorientation of the ship making another transition back into normal space, then hours later, the thump of a lander separating from the ship. Another planet. One step closer to the long voyage back to Moon City. Or earth. She didn't know what would be done with her. Would they simply give her back to Rob Passing with a ‘thanks, but no thanks'? Or turn her over to earth authorities? At this point, she didn't much care. Whatever happened, she realized now that it had been a mistake from the start to listen to Passing. Better to have let him send her on to the mines and be done with it. She had been surprised that nothing had been done to her after her abortive attempt to capture the ship other than to isolate her. She was fed regularly, she still had access as much as any other crewman to the ship's computer for news, games and entertainment, and the harsh questioning such as she would have expected from Moon City authorities had never come. Once, Captain Hawkins and the white haired earth ranger had come to her cabin to question her, but she had refused to talk to them. Since then, she had had no visitors. A block had been put on communication with other crewmembers, but otherwise she had not been bothered. It seemed strange to her, not at all what she might have expected.
The entrance to her small compartment chimed. She had no way of allowing entrance from her side, but she said “come in", anyway, after hurriedly slipping a cover over her upper body, thinking (wrongly) that an earthman might be bothered by her semi-nudity. Other than Moon City authorities and the earth lander pilots, there had for years been little contact between the two cultures.
Jamie Da Cruz slid into the room, accompanied by his pet dog and cat. She shrank back from them as the door re-locked the image of her capture by the pets fresh in her mind.
“Relax,” Jamie said. “Fuzzy Britches or Woggly won't hurt you."
As if to assure her, Fuzzy Britches approached. He rubbed against her legs and purred. The feel of the cat's curly fur against her skin was strangely relaxing, but she was still apprehensive.
“'Relax,'” I said. “Sit back down. I want to talk to you."
Della stared at the pets, then sat down, slowly. The strange cat immediately hopped up onto th
e lounger beside her and appropriated her lap. Jamie grinned as she first shrank from the contact, then lay a tentative hand on the furry body. Fuzzy Britches immediately began purring, inducing her to stroke his back. The purr grew louder, bringing a puzzled smile to her face.
“May I sit down?"
Della dropped her eyes, but made room for him. Woggly stretched out in front of them, head on paws, eyes fixed upwards from his huge head.
“What do you want?"
“I want to know why, Della. I like you, and just as important, Fuzzy Britches and Woggly like you. They would like to know why as well."
Could this really be true? She could hardly imagine anyone liking her after what she had done, especially this man. She fought a losing battle with the idea that he was attempting to use her like Passing had.
“How could you possibly like me? Or your pets either?” That didn't work for her, though, not with the cat purring comfortably in her lap. Just as for myriads of humans in the past, the slow, rumbling purr induced trust.
“Della, you must have had a reason. Were you forced in some way?"
“What does it matter, now? I'm sorry, if that makes any difference."
“That's what Fuzzy Britches said, and that's what I believe. I still want to know why."
“I had my reasons; you're right about that. I still say it doesn't matter."
“I think it might, if you'll just be honest. Look at it this way: you can't be any worse off, and it might help in what happens to you when we get back."
“Did Captain Hawkins and that ranger send you here?"
“Captain Hawkins gave me permission to talk to you, that's all. If you like, anything you tell me won't go any further. I just want to know."
Della stared at Jamie, at his honest brown face and funny little mustache. All at once a catharsis bubbled up from inside and she found herself telling him everything. Jamie listened quietly as she talked, thinking how different the two cultures were. On earth, miscreants were simply tossed out of the Enclaves into the wilds, to survive or not as they could, usually not. In Moon City, the mines were apparently the answer; a slower death, but one just as sure. When Della told him of how Passing had not only manipulated her because of a youthful indiscretion, but raped her before assigning her to the ship, he was amazed. He couldn't imagine anything like that happening in the Houston Enclave. As her story ended, he found himself comforting her, and from there, her slim warm body slipped under him as if it belonged there.
