"What?" Gwin asked, horrified. She stepped away from him. "You’re going to put the mind of a murderer from our planet into the body of a baby on this planet?”
"It's a perfect solution to our problem." He let his arms drop.
"But what about these people?"
"I can't see that it will make any difference to them. You said the baby doesn't talk until a year old. By then the learning of this life will have wiped out any memory of a past life."
"But these are basically peaceful people. There is seldom any controversy among them. You can't disrupt their lives just to make life easier on your planet."
"This won't disrupt their lives. They won't even know it's happening."
"Oh, Mikk," Gwin begged, almost in tears. "You don't know them. You don't know how nice they are. They saved my life. You can't do this to them."
"It wasn’t my decision," Mikk said. "Bob put it in front of the Leaders and they decided."
* * *
Then suddenly, Gwin takes over telling the story.
* * *
"Bob is sending a mind to enter the body of the baby about to be born." Mikk said, as he strode towards the valley.
Gwin hurried after him. She hadn't realized until now just how much his research meant to him. It came first in his life, ahead of any morality, any thought about consequences. It probably would have come ahead of her if she'd been around to find out.
"I forbid you to do it,” she said.
"It’s too late. Bob already has sent a signal to the cave. It will let him know when to send the mind."
Gwin couldn’t describe her anger, her fear. What had she done to these people? "How will you know if it happened?" There always was the chance that it wouldn’t work.
Mikk shrugged. "I'll be looking for a difference in the birth, something that has never happened before. And since I've only seen one birth, I'd like your help."
"You want me to help you destroy this group of people, my friends?"
Mikk sighed in exasperation. "This won't destroy them. All that will happen is that the mind of the baby will be taken over by the mind of the prisoner."
"That's all?" Gwin asked, with sarcasm. "And what happens as the child grows? Will it become like the prisoner, a murderer or a thief?"
"What do they have worth stealing?"
"It may not look like much to you but what they have means a lot to them."
They reached the cave and when the inhabitants saw that her friend had returned they invited him into the cave.
Mela was in labour. She had two previous children so her labour didn't last long. It had begun just before their noon meal and now she was in the squatting position. The baby's head appeared then it's body. When it was fully out and in the hands of one of the women it immediately began to cry. This startled everyone. They looked at the newborn boy then at each other. Never before had a baby cried at birth.
They gestured and talked. Was there something wrong with him? Was he deformed? Had the woman helper hurt him? She shook her head and was believed. After all, she'd helped with many births and each one of them had been normal. The little boy finally quit crying. The father lifted the naked baby and held it up so everyone could see that it looked like the rest of them. There were no missing limbs, no enlarged or shrunken head, no reason for the cry. He laid his son down, wrapped him in a hide and handed him to Mela. She took him and hugged him to her chest.
* * *
Mikk interrupts.
* * *
Mikk stood in awe remembering the scream of the prisoner when his mind had been separated from his body. The experiment had worked. The prisoner's mind was now in this little body and would be for the next four of this planet’s years.
"The baby crying means the experiment was a success, doesn’t it?" Gwin said bitterly. She left the cave and he followed her.
"What made him cry?" Gwin demanded when they were outside.
"Just as the mind is separated from the body the prisoners emit a scream. It must be carried over to when they enter the body which is right at the time of birth."
"So what are you going to do with this now?"
"We will signal the mind that it is to leave this body and return home."
"And when will this happen?"
"In four of your years. That's when I will return for the final time and watch to see if the young boy's body is discarded."
"Discarded? What do you mean, discarded?"
"The boy will die."
Gwin gasped. "You mean you're going to kill him when he is only four years old? How could you do that to him and his family, to all of us who will love him?"
"It is part of the experiment."
"I never thought you could be so cold. That your experiment would mean more to you than a people."
"They're not considered people by our standards."
"And so they can just be manipulated as you wish."
"We need to find a place for our prisoners."
"Find someplace else where they can build a colony like the Leaders originally planned."
"It's not feasible anymore, now that this will work."
"And to think I thought I loved you," Gwin spat out then turned and walked away.
"Gwin, wait," he called. He ran over to her and put his hand on her arm. He turned her to face him. "I know it sounds harsh and cruel but it’s no different than the takeover wars that have been fought for centuries by the planets. Every nation on every planet tries to enhance their circumstances and if it is at the expense of another race, so be it. That’s life."
"But these people can't even fight back. They don't even know they have an enemy."
"We're not the enemy."
"What are you then, benefactors?"
"No. But we plan on coming back here periodically to see how the experiment is going. We'll be able to help these people, guide them to improving their lives."
"And how do you propose to do that?"
"We can show them how to make better tools, how to build shelters, how to design something to make the transportation of their goods easier. After all, isn't that what you've been doing with your grain and vegetables?"
"They won’t understand any of it."
"It will be introduced slowly over hundreds of years. And as they grasp more they will be taught more."
"How will you do that?"
"We're working on a special chip that can be put into certain minds. It will give the host an idea for some invention that will enhance their civilization. We won't do it often, just enough to advance the people into a society atmosphere. They will eventually gather into villages and work together."
"Just like our ancestors did?"
"Much the same way."
"So you'll ultimately turn them into us."
"Not us exactly. They will remain the same shape just have our minds."
"So once they know our technology they will wreck this planet as we did ours."
"Maybe not," Mikk said, softly. "Maybe we can program them so they won't make our mistakes."
Mikk left the next day. He was anxious to begin the process of choosing more subjects. If their experiment was a success then it would be tried on different groups in other part of the planet.
* * *
I sit back. I think it’s finished at last. Then I reach for my cell phone and dial a number.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Mom. I have a question."
"Okay, sweetheart. Ask away."
"Did I cry when I was born."
"What a funny question. Why are you asking?"
"It’s for my sci-fi retreat."
"Oh, then yes you did, loud and long. Just like you were angry at being born."
"Thanks Mom."
Wasn’t it the 19th century Austrian composer Franz Schubert who said. “I don’t make up my music, I remember it.”
Chapter 12
Again, Bonnie walked with Sally to the retreat. They passed the yard with the flowers but no one was out.
/> "If you see this Michael Wolf point him out to me," Bonnie said, as they reached the parking lot."
Sally looked over the group out front, "I don’t see him," she said. "In fact, I’ve only seen him twice so he might be spending his spare time working on his screen play.”
"Maybe I’ll go to the script writing room after class today and ask for him," Bonnie said.
Before the lecture began Kat Mac announced that Kendra had dropped out of the class. "That should put to rest the worry about thirteen students," she said, looking meaningfully at Bonnie.
The first part of the morning those students who had completed the assignment read their versions of the Armageddon ending. When it was Sally’s turn she hesitated, then decided to take the leap. After all, she had come here to find out if she could write science fiction. The reaction to her version would give her a good idea.
The reading went better than she expected. There were a few positive comments, then it was Lisa’s turn.
During break most of the class went to the atrium for a snack.
“How did your meeting go with Kat Mac?” Sally asked Reggie, as they each got a coffee.
“Better than I though. She gave me a few pointers about how to keep my story on track and not to put in too much extra stuff that will confuse the reader.” He took a sip. “Are you booked to see her?”
Sally shook her head. “I haven’t got enough done to really know where the story is going.”
“Well, you should at least chat with her. You could get some questions asked.”
Sally nodded as they walked over to the regular group at the couches. They arrived in time to hear Daryl sarcastically ask Bonnie. "What did your cards tell you today?"
"That someone in my class doesn’t like me and resents me being here," Bonnie said calmly.
"Maybe you should heed them and get out of this class. After all, you really aren’t getting anything out of it and you certainly aren’t contributing to it."
Instead of answering Bonnie asked. "Did you know that a woman from Kat Mac’s class was murdered here two years ago?"
Sally watched the shock on everyone’s face at this announcement. Daryl even started in surprise, then regained his composure. "What has that to do with Angel cards or taking this course?"
"Well, the Angel cards are warning me to be careful."
"And my reading was so true," Lisa said. "The cards know what is going to happen."
"I don’t believe this." Daryl threw his hand in the air. "I really can’t understand how any of you were allowed into the class." He walked to the coffee machine.
"I never heard that someone was murdered here two years ago," Kirk said. "What happened?"
"She fell down some steps and died from her injuries."
"So, it was an accident," Lisa said.
"That’s what the police said," Bonnie answered. "But I know differently."
Before anyone could ask how she knew, Kat Mac came up to them. "It’s time for class," she said.
"Hey, Kat Mac," Daryl called. "I have a question for you."
"Sure," Kat Mac smiled. "What can I help you with?"
He smirked at Bonnie. "Well, Bonnie here has been warned by her Angel cards to be on guard because something bad is going to happen," he explained. "And she also said that a woman from your class was murdered two years ago."
Sally saw Kat Mac’s face tighten for just a moment and then relax. She wondered if anyone else had noticed the quick change.
"She wasn’t murdered," Kat Mac corrected. "She died from an accident."
"No, she didn’t," Bonnie said emphatically.
"How do you know that?" Daryl asked. "Did your cards tell you?"
"She was my cousin and I just know."
"Your cousin?" Lisa gasped.
Sally was watching the reaction to this statement. Again, some appeared shocked, but others varied from mildly interested to looking as if they weren’t quite sure if they should believe it. Kat Mac seemed uneasy as she walked towards the classroom.
"And I’ve asked Sally and her detective friend to help me prove it," Bonnie said.
Everyone looked at her and Sally wished that Bonnie had kept quiet about that. If there was a murderer at the retreat, they had just been warned.
"How many students were in the class Kat Mac?" Daryl asked.
Kat Mac turned and looked at him. "I don’t remember but I doubt that it was thirteen, if that’s what you want to know."
As they gathered up their books and packs, Bonnie leaned towards Sally. "Maybe now something will happen to help us," she whispered.
Sally nodded although she couldn’t think what it might be, other than the supposed murderer trying to kill them.
Kat Mac’s talk for the rest of the morning was about world building, creating cultures, and coming up with names in fantasy writing. Sally actually found it worth listening to.
* * *
I was different from most of the students in high school. I didn’t play any sports, didn’t have the physique and coordination that was required. I didn’t attend many social functions. Instead I belonged to the photography club and I played in the band. I was shy and had trouble expressing myself verbally so I spent much of my time writing on my computer. I was called a geek, a nerd, and was easy prey for bullies.
Although I’m trying to participate in the discussions and assignments, I’m sure that Daryl thinks I’m the nerd of this class. But, I wonder, now that I am an adult am I still classified as a nerd? Does the word nerd have a best before date? Are you a nerd in school and then something else as an adult or does the term follow you throughout your life? Are there senior nerds with gray hair and canes? I shake my head and think about the class.
It’s certainly a mixture of writers and wannabes. Maybe, as Daryl keeps saying, the applicants should have been screened better. Maybe, they should offer different classes, one for beginners, one for those who have something written, and one for those who have something published. At least then the more experienced or serious ones would not be held back by the beginners.
But, it seems that if they are willing to pay the money they are accepted. I know that ticks off Daryl as well as some of the other students but from my point of view everyone should be given a chance to learn if writing science fiction or fantasy is really what they want to do, and how better to find out than to take a class like this.
Take Sally Matthews for instance. She admitted not knowing much about the genre except that she likes to read it. She continually downplays her S/F writing and experience but she does have some good ideas. Her revision of the ending for Armageddon was so totally different that it took me by surprise and I could tell that Kat Mac was caught off guard also. Afterwards, I heard her tell Sally that she would like to see some of her other works and that she still had an opening one afternoon if Sally wanted to discuss her writing. Sally replied that she didn’t really think she had something worth discussing, yet.
I wonder what type of relationship Sally has with her friend Elizabeth. I would like to ask her out for a drink some evening but I don’t want to intrude. I could, however, suggest that some of us students get together. So far, once lunch is over everyone has headed in their own direction, me especially since I know that I must receive the rest of my story. I’m sure Sally would think a drink a good idea since she seems to get along with many of us. Then I could ask her out….
* * *
Elizabeth took Chevy behind the bed and breakfast and climbed the hill to reach the trail system.
She started out on White Gold Traverse with Chevy on his leash. The restriction didn’t hamper his exploring and his darting from tree to tree. Elizabeth came to a sign and the Dinah Moe Humm Trail. On her map she saw that it would cross Centennial and when it did she swung onto it. This trail paralleled White Gold Traverse back the way she’d come. When it eventually intersected with it she returned to the bed and breakfast on the traverse.
She didn’t want to go to her room so Eliza
beth decided to walk around the neighbourhood. She walked to Fitzsimmons Road South and followed it, then turned onto Toni Sailer Lane. Some of the houses and yards were impressive while others were quite normal. On her way back to the bed and breakfast she saw Cynthia in her yard. Before she could decide if she should she go and talk with her, Cynthia looked up and raised her hand. Elizabeth waved back and sauntered up the driveway.
"Come around to the back," Cynthia said. "I’ll get us some juice and we can talk."
By this time Chevy was tired and ready to rest. When Elizabeth sat at the patio table Chevy laid down under her chair and quickly went to sleep. While she waited she looked around. There wasn’t much of a yard, mainly the patio and a small grassy area.
"How long have you lived here?" Elizabeth asked, when Cynthia came back with the pitcher of juice and two glasses.
"About twenty years. I came here to teach school for a year and ended up staying." Cynthia poured them each a glass.
"It is a beautiful place to live."
"So, do you want to work for me?" Cynthia asked abruptly, as she sat in her chair.
Elizabeth had been expecting this. "As I’ve said, I’m not a professional private investigator."
"Do you want to hear what I would pay you?"
This time Elizabeth shook her head. "I really can’t do it for you. I don’t have a licence and besides, the police are looking into it."
"Please, think about it," Cynthia said. "It’s very important to me and to a lot of other people, especially the girl’s child."
"What child?" Oh, oh. She shouldn’t ask that.
"The one she put up for adoption."
"How do you know so much?" Elizabeth took a sip of her juice.
“I talked with her."
Elizabeth recognized the feeling of intrigue that she’d had at the beginning of the other mysteries. She wanted to know more even though she wasn’t going to work for Cynthia. "Where did she come from?"
The Travelling Detective: Boxed Set Page 65
