by Darrell Bain
Much later, he opened the door to let the pets slip away, amused that Della had not even thought about their presence while they were making love. She still thought of them as animals, pets, rather than intelligent beings. He turned back to the slim MoonCity woman, traces of cathartic tears still making streaks on her face, and wondered what his next move might be. He broached the subject delicately.
“Della, I promised I wouldn't repeat anything you said without permission, but Captain Hawkins really needs to know about this."
“Della buried her face on Jamie's chest. “Tell him if you want to. I don't care any more. This has been like a nightmare to me. I wish Passing were dead."
Jamie could sympathize, but that wouldn't help Della. Suddenly he recalled a conversation with Fuzzy Britches.
Something about skin, or claws, or muscles ... muscles?
“Della, would you like to go back to earth with me?"
“Earth? Jamie, you know I can't. We have to be trained from childhood for that, and I wasn't. Why ask the impossible?"
Jamie gripped her shoulders. “It might be possible. Fuzzy Britches gave me the thought. Back in the old days lots of humans were altered with gene insertions. It's not done nowadays, but the procedures should still be on file somewhere. I could
try to look them up."
Della stared back at him with rising hope. Was it really Possible?
“Jamie, could you? Oh God, that would be wonderful!"
“Don't get your hopes up, but I think so. All we would need is permission to try it; that is, if I can re-locate the methods.” He didn't tell Della how hard that permission might be to get. Gene selection for humans was almost universally practiced; gene alterations, especially of adults, were almost unheard of and illegal in every Enclave so far as he knew. And apparently, the same onus applied to the space people, otherwise why have to train from childhood to be able to become lander pilots when gene insertion would be simpler—or relatively so. However ... he fingered the thought disk in his coverall pocket, wondering if it still carried enough weight to swing something like this?
Della sighed. A huge weight, one she had not even known was there, seemed to rise from her body, like a balloon suddenly dropping it's ballast. Only one thing still bothered her and it suddenly damped her newly rising spirits.
“What would Jeannie and Kristi think of all this? Don't they care?"
Jamie laughed silently to himself. He had already seen signs that Kristi was more than a little taken with Della, and judging from Kristi's past history she was more than overdue to become interested in another woman. He knew that she had intended to talk with Della, and if possible, do more than talk. He had simply got there first. He grinned to himself. Kristi would be more than surprised when she did finally get Della alone—that is, if she didn't find out beforehand.
“Certainly they care,” He said, still grinning inwardly. “You may be surprised at how much they care. But remember, now—no promises about the genetic stuff. It's sort of prohibited on earth."
“It is on the moon, too, but I don't care if it would get me away from Passing. He is an evil man."
* * * *
Later that time period, Jamie relaxed in his own compartment with Jeannie, following the landing on the new planet. This time, Hawkins, in consultation with Jeannie, had gotten Big Boy interfaced with the landing craft so that the ship could follow with holoprojections rather than just a radio link. Two of Masters’ rangers had been replaced with scientists, over the ranger's objections. He was in agreement on leaving part of the ranger contingent aboard, but had protested to no avail about the scientists accompanying the landing. Untrained as they were in survival techniques, he didn't think he could protect them while exploring a strange environment, and in that he was right.
The landing and exploration went fine at first. The planet promised a little more than those previously explored. The atmosphere was compatible with that of earth, and there were no signs from space of any previous civilization. The lander put down in a little valley, and Masters quickly established a defensible perimeter with his few rangers, then let the scientists off the craft to sample the strange life forms. He should have waited.
Strange creatures began approaching the perimeter soon afterward. The two scientists were ecstatic when they saw that the furred octopeds carried crude tools and weapons, but Masters was not so enthusiastic. He noticed that some of the implements seemed to be composed of a conglomeration of shiny metal and crude sticks and leather fastenings. That only excited the scientists, but Masters remained alert. He was still watching suspiciously when, with no warning whatsoever, and with a swiftness bordering on the supernatural, one of the furred aliens drove a metal tipped spear into the belly of one of the men. The other was grabbed and hustled into the underbrush before he could react. It was so sudden, and so completely and unexpected that he could do nothing at all. By the time he got his rangers back into the floater, the forest was still, concealing he knew not what. He felt sick and utterly responsible.
* * * *
A search from the air revealed nothing. The forest was almost continuous, a murky greenish-gray tangle. An hour or two later he set the floater down at another site, where a thinning of the jungle revealed heaps of broken masonry, something they had not seen from the orbiting ship. A quick and very cautious scout told him what he wanted to know. The masonry was almost certainly the remains of a wall, or barricade perhaps, not all that dissimilar from the protective walls of the Enclaves. There was nothing at all which could tell him whether the homicidal furred beings were the remnants of the previous population or, as on earth, an enhanced animal gone wild.
Even as he was giving the order to withdraw inside the confines of the floater, another type of creature made an appearance. It was also an octoped, but its first four appendages were clawed rather than manipulative. It scooted along like a stubby caterpillar, and showed no fear at all. It was joined by another of the beasts, somewhat smaller, but once the floater canopy was closed, they both lost interest, as if they sensed that the floater was a refuge of some sort. While they watched, the larger creature turned on the smaller, chasing it back out of sight. Again, Masters had no way of judging the origins of the animals, but he had already made his decision. If the original builders on this planet had been unable to maintain a viable technology, there was little chance that they would be able to, not this far from home, and possibly not under any circumstances. He consulted briefly with Hawkins, then gave the order for the lander to return. This planet would be rated as habitable, but unsuited for colonization.
* * * *
Kristi entered the compartment where Jamie and Jeannie were waiting. She looked drawn and tired. Lady, her white haired dog, accepted a pat from Jamie, then immediately padded off to talk with Woggly. She was almost as distressed as Kristi, having had no occasion to fight; the rangers had kept the dogs close at hand. They were too likely to judge alien fauna in terms of what was familiar on earth.
Kristi accepted a hug from Jeannie and Jamie, then disappeared to wash and change. Jeannie followed her. Jamie had told Jeannie, as well as Hawkins, about his latest tryst with Della Worley, so he suspected what the out of sight conversation would entail. He was proved right a few moments later. Both women reappeared, displaying enigmatic feminine smiles.
“Jamie, you're a scoundrel,” Kristi said, toweling her still wet hair.
“Me? What have I done now? Don't believe anything the pets tell you. They exaggerate."
“Is Jeannie a pet, now?"
“Well, she purrs when we pet her. Does that qualify?"
“Don't answer that,” Jeannie said. She slipped an arm around Kristi.
“Okay, I won't."
“You're still a scoundrel. Don't you feel bad about depriving us of a chance to get to know Della, too?"
“Oh. Should I ask Captain Hawkins if you two could come next time?"
“Oho,” Jeannie said. “There's going to be a next time, is there?"
“If there is, why not let me be the one?” Kristi asked.
“Why just you?” Jeannie said. “I think I might enjoy her company, too."
“Experience, dear. If we really want to draw her into our little group, let an expert take care of it. Besides, all three of us at once might overwhelm the poor girl. Groups aren't nearly as common in Moon City as they are on earth, or so I hear."
Jeannie pouted, but acquiesced. Kristi was probably the one to broach the subject. After all, she had seduced her and
Jamie as well. Nevertheless, she already felt the tingle of anticipation. Kristi was the only woman she had ever been with and she was ready to expand her knowledge. It would be hard to wait.
“You two have fun while I'm gone,” Kristi said, smiling sweetly. She pulled on her coveralls, patted Jamie's mustache, kissed Jeannie's cheek and scurried toward the door.
“Wait!” Jamie called. “Don't you want me to call Captain Hawkins for permission to see her?"
“Troy is taking care of it. ‘by."
“Meow.” Fuzzy Britches said from across the room.
“Are you in on this, too, Fuzz?” Jeannie asked, raising an eyebrow at the cat. Jamie hadn't bothered. Where family, or even potential family was concerned, Fuzzy Britches was always involved, and usually far ahead of his humans.
* * *
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jeannie lifted her weight to her forearms, feeling her breasts rub against Della's small firm mounds. She leaned down to kiss her, thinking that Kristi had been right, if thepast hour was any indication. Della had accepted her entrance into her small compartment with only the slightest of reservations, and showed no reluctance when Jeannie guided them into the narrow bed and between lingering kisses and slow caresses disrobed her.
Her small, firm breasts and slim body was new and exciting, just as Kristi had been long months previously. There was something about being close and making love to a woman that went deeper than just sex; it was almost like bonding with a twin of her own self. She felt sorry that it was something exclusively feminine, an experience that she didn't think could ever apply to men and Jamie in particular, but that was just the way it was.
“Am I heavy?” She asked, remembering that Della was accustomed to a lower gravity than she was.
“A little,” Della admitted. She unlocked her legs from around Jeannie's and accepted another kiss.
Jeannie rolled onto her side, still holding Della in her embrace. She slid down to where Della's breasts could meet her lips and enclosed a nipple in her mouth, teasing it with her tongue, feeling it become erect. She caressed Della's slim flanks and slid lower, becoming excited all over again. She ran her fingers through Della's wide blonde triangle of tight curls and traced the swell of her slim buttocks. Della moaned, shifted, and Jeannie's tongue met her entrance again, seeking it hungrily.
* * * *
“Do you really think it's safe?” Captain Hawkins asked.
Troy Masters shrugged. “Jamie says it is. Kristi and Jeannie say it is. The pets say it is. Who am I to argue?"
Captain Hawkins thought of his own wife back on earth and his co-husband. He hoped Merry and Jonathon were thinking of him, just as he was of them. They had been a threesome for more years than he cared to remember. Their children were grown now, his son a fusion physicist and his daughter involved with police matters. He thought of the first time his daughter had come home after having to make a decision to expel a repeat offender from the Enclave into the wilds to almost certain death.
“Dad,” she said, “I made the decision, and I would do it again, but God, he was so young and I just know he could have been salvaged if we only had the resources to try."
Hawkins had been gently commiserative. “There are no resources. We walk a fine line here. There is no room now for the old ways, where the sociologists and psychologists spent so much time and energy for so little result."
“I know, Dad. I'll get over this, and I'll do it again if I have to. Do you think the old psychologists would have ever made human behavior into a science?"
“We'll never know. If we can't cure them the first time now with chemical treatment, we have no resources to waste on them. Maybe some day, but not now."
These memories entered into his decision, along with how stabilizing he knew a multiple family could be. If Jamie's extended family and the ranger and the pets all agreed that Della could be released, he would go along with it. There was another motive to his decision: when the other Moon City crewmen saw that Della had been accepted back into the ship's society, that might prevent a similar occurrence of mutiny.
“All right, you have my permission, on one condition: I'm going to have her locked up again as we return to earth. Explain to her that in good conscience I can't do anything else."
“Good enough,” Masters said and turned to go.
“One more thing."
“Yes?"
“You might explore your own motives in this matter. Are you really that disinterested an observer?"
“Where Kristi is concerned, I'm not sure,” Masters admitted. “It will be all right though."
“See that it is, Captain. See that it is."
* * * *
Fuzzy Britches explained to the dogs and princess, using that strange mixture of broken English and animal talk that humans could never understand. He paused, twitching his ears to indicate to the other animals that they should listen to the happy sounds coming from the other room.
“See?” He said. “Our humans like the Moon woman. The family grows. When all the kittens come, we need another home. This big box no good. Need another man-human, too. Protect the kittens.” He turned his attention to Princess, who was gravid with the impending birth of her litter.
“White hair?” Woggly asked.
“Maybe,” Fuzzy Britches said. “Kristi can tell. But not here. On earth. Wait."
“Big city no good,” Conan said.
“Little city?” Woggly asked.
“Maybe. Wait. Humans are funny people. This big box no good for kittens. No place to play, chase mice."
“No varmints,” Woggly agreed, salivating.
Fuzzy Britches was the natural leader of the pets because of his extremely high intelligence, but even he was vague about where they were and when they would return to the familiar earth, but he had no doubt that they would.
* * * *
The voyage continued, in larger and larger incremental steps, working farther into the spiral arm to which earth belonged. Going inward was the choice that Hawkins had made on the suggestion of a majority of the scientists. Their theory was that since older suns would be located closer to the center of the galaxy, the chances of finding an advanced civilization would be better in that direction. They were right to a point, but wrong in the particulars.
Civilizations were found, and earth type planets, but in every case where intelligent life had risen, it had also fallen. In most cases, such planets were barren, desert-like worlds, with the remnants of old habitations baking in the sun or buried in wildly growing vegetation rampant with antagonistic life. On one world, only insect-like creatures remained, virulent in all their forms. Masters lost a ranger on that world, prey to a swarm of flying monsters that stripped him to bones in seconds.
The pattern that Masters had first noticed became clearer, and finally left no room for doubt. Wherever intelligent life emerged, either war or the nemesis of genetic change in other species (or sometimes both) caused its downfall, to the detriment of the ecology. They found no exceptions. It was as if, when a race gained sufficient technology to manipulate life, it inevitably did so, regardless of the dangers. Also, they found no evidence of space flight anywhere, as though the biological sciences always caused disaster before life in space could be sustained off the home world, just as on earth and the Altairian planet.
The farther the ship traveled toward the center of the galaxy, the more barren. desolate and ravaged the planets became, until Hawkins f
inally called a halt.
* * * *
“We're getting nowhere,” He told Jamie, Masters and Byron Westly, all assembled in his quarters. “We could make a few more hops, I suppose, but I don't see much point in it. Conditions on habitable planets are only getting worse, not better. Or previously habitable planets, I should say. Westly, what are your thoughts on the subject?"
The tall thin physicist brushed at his hair and looked pained. “I'd really like to go on, but that's just my profession talking, not my heart. This voyage has certainly rearranged a lot of concepts."
“Such as?"
“Well, let's take the question of life in the universe first. Most knowledgeable scientists have always assumed that there is nothing unique about earth. That is, we expected to find life on other planets, though we never dared assume that we would find so many. What we didn't expect to find was so many signs of intelligent life. And what we would have never thought, in our wildest dreams, was the pattern that we have seen. Intelligence evolving from lower forms, just as it did on earth, a rising technology, then before that technology is sufficient to permit a viable presence off the planet, either war or experimentations in biology that cause the destruction of the technology that gave rise to them in the first place.
“Next, we have always theorized that toward the center of the galaxy we would find much older civilizations, far in advance of ours, simply by the fact that the nearer the center we get, the older the stars, and thus the more time they would have had to develop. That has proven true in one sense: some of the ruins we've seen lately have been old, very old, but the advances never happened. If our samples are accurate, and I believe they are, the root cause has almost always been runaway genetic manipulation of lower species.
