Alien Harvest (a)

by Robert Sheckley

  “Now pay attention,” Stan said. “Forget about Julie for a moment. I have work for you to do.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You are going over to the Lancet to parlay with Captain Potter.”

  “To what end, sir?”

  “Ah, yes,” Stan said. “Negotiations usually have a point, don't they? Ours will be different. There's no point at all.”

  “But what do you want me to accomplish, sir?”

  “Oh, that I can easily tell you,” Stan said. “I want Potter to take his ship away from here. I will retain the harvester. I will find some way to make rendezvous with Captain Hoban, and we will go back home with our ill-gotten gains. How does that sound to you?”

  “Wonderful, sir. But I'm afraid —“

  “Yes, I am, too,” Stan said. “The captain is not going to like it at all. That's why I have something else in mind. Come over here to the workbench, Gill. I have a modification I must make in you.”

  Gill hesitated. “A modification, sir?”

  “You heard me. What is the matter with you?”

  “I wouldn't want to change my thinking on certain issues.”

  Stan looked at Gill then glanced over at Julie, who was resting with eyes closed. “I think I understand. You've undergone quite a little course in humanization, have you not?”

  “I don't know what to call it, but I've never experienced anything like it.”

  “I won't change any of those qualities you call emotional, Gill. They are rare and special, I agree with you on that, and sometimes they are a long time coming to men — and to androids, never. Or just about never. No, it's your command structure I need to modify. And something I need to wire into you. It will make it easier for you to do what you will have to do, unless things go a lot better than I imagine they will.”

  “I wish you'd explain a little more,” Gill said, letting Stan take him by his remaining hand and lead him over to the workbench.

  Stan checked out his instruments. “Better not to explain too much,” he said, fitting magnifying lenses over his glasses. “I'll know what to do when the time comes. And so will you.”

  72

  There were heavy ground mists when Gill left the harvester and started his trek to the Lancet. The ship loomed eerily in the mounting mists. Gill walked between the force fields. There were aliens out there, and he walked past them. The aliens were searching, but they didn't seem to know what they were looking for.

  Gill knew that he had a certain amount of natural immunity, since androids did not smell like men. But to be on the safe side he had taken the last suppressor. Gill touched it on his wrist for luck. He wasn't superstitious, but he knew that men were, and of late he had been seeking to emulate them in every way.

  The suppressor was working. It had been Mac's, but that was quite a while ago and now Mac was a bundle of wet fur on a garbage heap in an alien hive.

  Gill knew he had to keep his mind on business. Usually, this was no problem for an android. Artificial men weren't bothered by random thoughts, stray insights, weasel realizations that came to them like thieves in the night. Not usually. But this time was different.

  Gill found that his attention was divided. Part of him was observing the terrain he passed over, noting the presence and position of the aliens, watching as he drew nearer to the Lancet. But with another part of his mind he was thinking of Julie, seeing her as she had been just a day ago, vibrant and laughing, filled with life. He had felt something special for her then.

  What was it? Was it what the humans called love? How could he find out? No human had been able to explain love to him. Even Stan grew embarrassed and turned away when Gill had asked him to explain the concept and give it a quantifiable value.

  Humans were so strange, so filled with odd compunctions that covertly ruled their behavior. And now he had the most understanding of them he would ever have. It all came from stray thoughts, he told himself, and he worked hard to banish Julie's image from his mind as he approached the entry port of the Lancet.

  73

  Two of Potter's crew, heavily armed, were waiting for him in the entryway.

  “I don't know how the hell you got through,” one of them said.

  “I've got a pass,” Gill told them. They just stared at him. Gill decided that his first attempt at that key human quality, humor, hadn't been a success. But he reminded himself that he was new at it. Perhaps he would get better as he went along.

  The two guards looked through the port visor. They could see the aliens, slowly drifting toward the ship, forming up against the almost invisible walls of the force field. They didn't do anything. Just stood there, their heads facing the ship, and it was as though some great power of attraction held them there. They were surrounding the force field that protected the harvester, too, more and more of them, and the sight of them was singularly uncanny and disquieting.

  “We better tell the captain about this,” one of the guards said. To Gill he said, “Come on, you. Raise your arms. We're going to search you.”

  Gill did as he was told. “I carry no weapons,” he told them.

  “Sure. But we'll just check you anyhow. What happened to your arm?”

  “I lost it at the movies,” Gill said. Again, the guards did not laugh. They just stared at him like he was crazy. Gill wondered what he was doing wrong. This humor thing was going to take some studying.

  74

  “Julie, can you hear me?”

  Julie had been lying on the deck of the harvester near one of the heaters. Stan had found a blanket in one of the back bays and wrapped it around her. She looked better than she had since the accident.

  “Stan?” she said. “I'm very cold.”

  “Let me see if I can find another blanket,” Stan said. “I already have these heaters going full blast.”

  He stood up to go, but Julie reached out and grabbed his arm. “No, don't leave me, Stan. We're in a lot of trouble, aren't we?”

  “To one way of thinking, yes, we are. But to another, we're in no trouble at all. We're together, and we're going to stay that way. Here, Julie, I have something for you. For us both, actually.”

  He reached into his jacket pocket and brought out the little case containing the Xeno-Zip ampoules.

  There were six of them. He uncapped one and lifted Julie's head so she could drink. When she took down the first ampoule, he matched her with one, then uncorked another.

  “We aren't supposed to take more than one, are we?”

  “I've got a special dispensation,” Stan said. “Don't worry, it'll do us no harm.”

  Julie swallowed the contents of a second ampoule. She shuddered, then laughed. “You were right, Stan. I feel a lot better.”

  “Me, too,” Stan said, sitting down on the deck beside her and holding her close to share the warmth. “This is nice, isn't it?”

  “It's very nice, Stan,” Julie said. “We never found much time for this before, did we?”

  “Unfortunately not. Sometimes it takes a long time to realize what a good thing is.”

  “As long as it happens sometime,” Julie said. “Don't worry, Julie. We're going to get out of this.”

  “I'm sure we are,” Julie told him. “One way or the other.” She could feel the pain leaving her body. How miraculous the Xeno-Zip was! What a pleasure it was to be free of pain.

  She knew it had to be the same way for Stan. For the moment they were both young and strong and were going to live forever. This could only last a little while. But perhaps, she thought, it'll be long enough. The radio kicked into life. “Dr. Myakovsky! Are you there?” It was Captain Hoban from the Dolomite.

  “I have to issue a few last-minute instructions,” Stan said to Julie. “Excuse me, my dear, I'll be back as soon as I can.”

  75

  In the Dolomite, Hoban had been working hard to keep the location of his ship a secret. He had no doubt what Potter would do if he knew there was another ship in the area, and where it was situated. He had no inten
tion of sharing the fate of the Valparaiso Queen, the wreck that silently circled the planet. He hadn't known quite what to do. But then Stan's message had come to him, and he had no choice but to make contact.

  “Sir,” Hoban said, “I need to tell you, by radioing me, you have compromised this ship's position. You shouldn't have done that, sir.”

  “Now, now,” Stan said. “I have a plan whereby Potter and his crew will be neutralized. There will be nothing to prevent you from making rendezvous with us at these coordinates as soon as possible.”

  “I understand, sir,” Hoban said. “But there is a problem. From your present location, it is going to take me at least twenty minutes to get to you.”

  “As long as that?” Stan exclaimed. From where he sat, he could see through one of the viewports as the aliens massed in front of the force field, not trying to get through it — that would have been impossible — but coming together in ever-growing numbers, those behind pushing away those in front They were crowded as close to each other as they could get and some of them were mounting on the back of others, and others were climbing on top of those.

  Stan saw at once what was going to happen. They were going to keep on piling themselves up until they were able to topple over the rim of the force field, which was only about twelve feet high. Then they'd come for him and Julie.

  He didn't want to think about it, so he took refuge in analysis.

  This swarming behavior was probably some sort of instinctual mechanism for getting them over barriers that were otherwise impassable. It was really very interesting. Ari had to see this.

  Stan took out the cybernetic ant, poised him on a fingertip, and lifted his hand so Ari could see through the viewport.

  “See what's happening, Ari? Are you taking it all in? Future generations are going to be very interested in what we have done today.”

  The little creature gave no sign that he was listening, yet he showed a certain alertness.

  Stan continued, “You've been a good companion, Ari. Silent and uncomplaining. Who could ask for anything more? I only wish Norbert were here, too. You'll have to tell them how it was with us, Ari. If you get out of this, that is.”

  Ari, as usual, was silent.

  “Stan!” Julie called.

  “I'll be right over,” Stan answered. He broke the connection with Hoban and changed frequencies. In a moment the sullen face of Captain Potter appeared on the viewscreen.

  “About time you called, Myakovsky. I don't have much patience.”

  “Not much more is required,” said Stan.

  “I will listen now to your offer.”

  “Yes, Captain. What I suggest is that you forget all about this matter and take your ship some distance from here. While you are gone I will take this harvester ship and get away. You needn't worry about losing the royal jelly aboard. There's plenty of it down here for you. You can easily milk yourself another harvester load.”

  “That's great,” Potter said. “And just why should I do that?”

  “Because I have a legal claim to this stuff which is every bit as good as Bio-Pharm's claim. And because I want you to.”

  “I think you've flipped out.”

  “You're not going to do it? No harm in asking, was there?”

  “You're wasting my time,” Potter spat “There's no deal, Myakovsky. I don't need to negotiate with you. I'm taking what I want.”

  “Right,” Stan said. “Gill?”

  Gill's face appeared in the viewscreen. “Yes, Doctor?”

  “Activate Subroutine Diogenes,” Stan said. “Signing off, Captain Potter.”

  “That doctor of yours is really crazy,” Potter said to Gill. “He must think he still swings some weight. You can just forget any order he gave you. Things are going to be a little different now.”

  “Yes, they are,” said Gill. The time was finally at hand.

  He put his remaining hand to his mouth and popped in one finger. With a single wrench, he tore the finger off.

  “What are you doing?” Potter said. “Stop that!”

  “Subroutine Diogenes is beginning,” Gill said, tearing off a second finger. “You know the old story about the rich man's house?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Off came another finger. “In the rich man's house,” Gill said, “a guest has a problem if he wants to spit.” Off came the fourth finger.

  “You're crazy,” Potter said. “Stop or I'll shoot.”

  “In the rich man's house,” Gill said, “there's no place to spit but in his face.” The fifth and last finger came off. There was a frozen moment in the control room of the Lancet. Then Gill blew up. Literally.

  The explosion of the artificial man enclosed the Lancet in a rosy glow shot through with yellow diamonds.

  76

  “What was that?” Julie asked.

  “Just somebody knocking at the door,” Stan said.

  It came again: a heavy booming sound. Stan noted that the aliens had gotten over the top of the force field, scrambling up on each other's shoulders and toppling over. Now they were pounding and tearing at the entry port to the harvester. Stan could hear the metal start to buckle under their blows.

  “It's very loud,” Julie said dreamily.

  “I think our friends are becoming agitated,” Stan said. “It won't be long now.”

  “Is there any more of that royal jelly left?” Julie asked.

  “Let me just see…. Yes, my dear, we have another two ampoules. Here, let me uncork that and hold it for you…. That's better, eh?”

  “Much better,” Julie smiled as Stan swallowed his ampoule.

  The radio squawked into life. “Doctor! What in hell is going on! Potter's ship …”

  It was Hoban. Stan said, his voice very low, “It was nice, eh, Captain?”

  “What did you say, Doctor?”

  “Gill made a satisfactory explosion, didn't he?” Stan said. “Gill did his part very well. How close are you, Captain?”

  “Another five minutes.”

  “I'm afraid I don't have that long,” Stan said. “I hope I won't be alive to see the last act. Hoban, it's been a pleasure knowing you. I hope you have no trouble clearing your name on Earth and going on with your brilliant career. Tell them on Earth …”

  “Yes, Doctor?”

  “Oh, tell them anything,” Stan said, suddenly testy. “Over and out.” He shut off the radio, then turned to Julie. “Good-bye, sweetheart.”

  “See you again soon,” Julie said.

  They kissed. And they were still kissing when the entry port shattered and the aliens came into the harvester.

  77

  Stan thought that was all. But it wasn't, not quite. There was a long blank stretch. He was vaguely aware that Julie was dead. All the others were dead, too, of course. Ari? He didn't know what had happened to Ari. And as for himself, he was surprised to find he was looking down on a corridor floor. He realized that the aliens had suspended him to the wall. He was in no pain. The royal jelly was still working. But something was growing inside him. He could feel it.

  He was about to give birth. And die.

  Now Stan summoned up all his courage and all his remaining strength. He opened his mouth and yelled. It was a long, hard, satisfactory yell. He could feel his body vibrating as he yelled. And a poem came to his mind….

  I would have mourned the loss of my life

  If I had not been already dead.

  And then he felt the chestburster come crashing through his chest, its expressionless face already questing for food. And then there was only darkness, and it was warm, like Julie's kiss.

  When Captain Hoban finally brought the Dolomite down to AR-32's surface, he found the remnants of Potter's crew. Julie was still alive, and Badger was missing, but everyone else was dead. Along with Julie, only Ari, the cybernetic ant, was left.

  Once he was back in the ship, Hoban wasted no time trying to read the ant's memory files. But they were locked with an unbreakable molecula
r combination. Only Stan knew the combination, and Stan had forgotten to unlock the files to permit the final details of his story to be known.

  Hoban's Afterword

  That was the end of it, all except for cleaning up what was left. When Gill blew himself up, he disabled the Lancet's control system. It took several days for Potter and his remaining men — those who hadn't been killed, in the blast — to repair it. It gave me the time to bring the Dolomite down to the harvester, where Stan and Julie had made their last stand.

  We had a brisk firefight with the two aliens we found inside. But we managed to put them down without further loss of human life. They were carrying containers of royal jelly. All the rest of the aliens were gone.

  We didn't know at first where they had disappeared to, or why.

  It took us a while to figure it out. First we had to get Julie in the ship and into emergency medical. We did that, and she finally came through it all right. She was nearly well when we got back to Earth. I don't know what she's doing now; we lost touch.

  I did see Badger again. He came to visit me one day shortly after I bought my new house on the Pacific Palisades. I had been reinstated, and I was doing well again as a spaceship captain. I owe it all to Stan. It wouldn't have happened if he hadn't stolen that ship, which brought the whole thing to the attention of the authorities and resulted in the reopening of my old case. This time a jury found for me, and against Bio-Pharm.

  Badger arrived when I was between flights. He just wanted to say hello. We talked a while. Potter had brought him back to Earth in the Lancet, after he'd fixed the damage Gill caused.

  “He didn't like me,” Badger said cheerfully, “but he couldn't very well kick me out. I was the one who'd tipped him off to you and the doctor.”

  “And got Stan killed,” I pointed out.

  “He did his best to get me killed,” Badger said.