Rissa and Tregare

by F. M. Busby

  "Well-maybe they took out only one per person." Then he shook his head. "No. It would cost more, that way. So-"

  "For the time being, Bran, forget UET. Until you are ready to move on Stronghold." five met at dinner. Hawkman had returned. He had trimmed his beard quite short, outlining clearly the shape of jaw and cheekbones; Rissa complimented him on the effect. "I am pleased to have a better look at you, at last."

  "That's your disadvantage, Rissa-you women can't grow anything to hide behind. Of course, in the case of present com-pany-" He raised his glass, "-that's a blessing to us men. Right, Bran?" Laughter was general; then the talk took other paths. Later, for the first time since the duel, Rissa partook of drugsticks. Relaxed, in a lul between past conflicts and those to come, she let the smoke enhance her senses, let her mind float in introverted euphoria, enjoyed the total freedom from tension. When Hawkman brought out cards, Bran would have stayed-but Rissa pinched his arm lightly and he said, "No-it's been one long day. Tomorrow night, maybe."

  Upstairs in their bed, her senses tuned to peak, she climaxed almost at once-then soon again, and then-she lost count and did not care.

  for three days, waiting for her body's clock to signal release of an ovum, Rissa marked time. She kept busy. By viewscreen she completed purchase of Fennerabilis' peninsula, and con-tracted to outfit and crew a patrol boat to guard her interests there. She inspected her warehouse complex; changes were progressing wel, and she found another to make and ordered it. One afternoon when Ernol was free, he and Rissa practiced combat again-each wore a minimum of protective clothing and for the most part Rissa taught him newer techniques. Sparline watched; afterward she consented to practice with Rissa, but the moves were only demonstrated, not carried through with ful force. Compared to Rissa or Ernol, she tired quickly-yet it was obvious to Rissa that with regular practice Sparline could have been expert.

  Rissa's thermometer, on the fourth morning of waiting, told her she was near to ovulation. And the viewscreen told Tregare that Limmer was ready to move ship to Base Two.

  in their room they breakfasted quickly, and called word of their day's plans to Liesel's office recorder. Dismantling the hair dryer, Rissa put the magnetic reverser in her shoulder bag. Bran drove the aircar and left Rissa off at the DRC-the Hatchery-before going to the port.

  "Cal me when you're done here?" She nodded; he closed the aircar and took off again. The Delayed Reproduction Center occupied an old building -concrete and stone with exposed wood beams. Entering, Rissa saw

  "Director" on a door at the main corridor's far end. She passed other doors; some stood ajar and showed her empty rooms. The "Director" door opened into a smalish room; behind a desk sat a young woman, reading from a microfilm projector. She looked up and said, "May I help you?"

  "I hope so. My husband and I wish to leave cells on deposit for three zygotes, to be gestated at a later time." The girl brushed fingers back through curly brown hair; her blue eyes opened wider. "That's unusual, these days-but we do have the equipment and a skeleton staff. I'd better let you talk to Dr. Marco." She rose and led Rissa into the next room, through a door behind her desk. This one was larger-its wals lined with books, file cabi-nets, a mirror, and equipment unfamiliar to Rissa. Behind the central desk Rissa saw an old woman-smal and thin, with faded brown eyes in a yelow face. But the white hair, cut very short, was stil thick. Filipina, Rissa guessed-or from some-where near those islands.

  The woman said, "I'm Estele Marco-Dr. Marco, more or less. You have business for us?"

  "I am Tari Obrigo. My husband, Bran Tregare, arranged for me to come here. Our request is-"

  "Yes, I recal-I'm the one who talked with him. Wel, we can accommodate you. I'l do the work myself; I've instructed a couple of my assistants but I'm the only one that's actually done it, on humans."

  The old face grimaced. "Back on Earth, that was-in the early days of the project, before UET got impatient and switched to butchery to speed things up. Best luck I ever had was when mutiny took the ship I was on and we escaped to here."

  "Butchery?" Rissa repeated the guess she'd made to Tregare.

  Estele Marco shook her head. "No. Oh, they tried that, but the equipment cost too much in quantity. So they spayed only a few before some bright sadist got an idea UET liked even better. They could speed up the cycle, you see-so why bother with the fancy machinery?"

  "But what-I can't imagine-"

  "If you had their kind of mind, you could. Al those Wel-fare women, you see-wasting their ova into tied-off tubes. So this doctor-so called-cut them open again a litle higher on the belly, and brought the tubes outside to empty into little containers he taped on. Then he used hormones to speed the cycle about ten to one-until the supply ran out and they quit producing." The woman's face moved as though to spit.

  "Dr. Marco-what did it do to them?"

  "You can increase production of ripe ova, but you can't turn the uterus on and off like a faucet. They went into con-stant menstruation-terribly heavy flow, from the cockeyed hormone balance. A number of them simply bled to death." Rissa gasped. Dr. Marco said, "But he had a simple answer to that one-hysterectomies-so they wouldn't die of it. Not right away, at least. The incidence of cancer was frightful. The worst of it, though-you've never seen what it does to a girl to be accelerated through menopause before she's twenty."

  Rissa could not control her shudder; sidelong in the wall mirror she saw she had gone pale. "And, of course, if it worked, they are still doing it-they would have done it to me!"

  "I suppose they are, the sons of jackals! Although it didn't work all that well, to anyone with a gram of medical con-science. Forced ripening made for a high proportion of defec-tive zygotes, including nonviables. Most of the mistakes died young, but you've noticed the high incidence of albinos among the younger people here? That was one side effect."

  "Yes, I had noticed-and wondered."

  "Well, now you know." The Director clenched a fist, all bone and tendons. "I wonder-the male-oriented hierarchy of UET-would they have done it if it cost the men what it cost the women? But for sperm-just tel an unsterilized male em-ployee to jerk off in a bottle-and don't tell him it's slaves he's siring for the mining colonies."

  The old woman paused. "Wait-you said-they had you in Welfare? Then I can do nothing for you without surgery. Are you sure you want-?" Rissa opened her shoulder bag, displayed the stolen reverser and explained.

  "Oh, yes-I'd heard rumors. Never saw it done, though. Do you know how to operate that thing?" Rissa nodded. "Al right-let's go to my lab and get to it. Reversible or not, the tubes closed off for so long-at the least, they'll need blowing out, so we'l see if they're open or not."

  Rissa followed the old woman to another room, stripped and sat on a high, padded table. She placed the device against her belly-the cold metal made her flinch-and in the se-quence she had learned, activated the controls. She found herself holding her breath and realized she had expected to feel a change within her body; her brief, uncertain laugh held no tone of amusement.

  "Well-that should have done it."

  "So. Lie down, put your feet-yes-a routine exam, while we're at it." The old hands moved gently; Rissa felt herself relax. "Now-a litle inert gas, not much pressure. When the gauge drops, we know you're open." Expected hurt did not come; only a quick discomfort that vanished before she could name it. "Good-some slight clogging, but it's gone now." She felt the intruding apparatus leave her body; the doctor turned and set it on her work counter. "You can sit up now."

  Rissa did so. "And what is the next step, Dr. Marco?"

  "Depends. Do you know when you can expect to ovulate next?"

  "Tomorrow, I am almost certain. My cycle is most regular, and this morning's temperature was tending-"

  "Good." Marco nodded. "Well, then-if it's tomorrow, come in the next day. We want the ovum as near to one day along as possible."

  "And then how-?"

  "Nothing to worry about. A little plastic tubing, that's all. Very thin-just b
ig enough to take the ovum without bruising it. Not flexible enough to curl over by itself, but it won't scratch tissues, either. Tiny bulb at the end helps there, too." Marco's forefinger thrust upward and slightly to one side. "Slant it to one corner firmly into the litle funnel where your tube empties-apply a little suction. Thwopl" She grinned. "Then pull back, rotate, and go to the other one-we won't know which fired, but we don't care, either."

  Although Rissa had asked nothing, the doctor added, "It won't hurt, not enough to bother. There's one thing, though."

  "And what is that?"

  The old woman smiled broadly; her remaining teeth were yellowed but showed no decay. "Until we have the ovum, you sleep alone. Because if you were to conceive, and the zygote had time to start dividing, passage through the tube might harm it." Rissa shrugged. "It comes at an inconvenient time, but of course two days of abstinence is much less than with the natural way." She put her feet down and stood. "For today, then, this is al?"

  "Yes. As I said, day after tomorrow if you're right about that, we'l see what we've got. Wil your husband be coming with you, then, for his part of it?"

  Rissa paused. "I doubt that he will be free to do so. But perhaps-may I cal him from your office?"

  "Of course. When you're dressed, come along."

  relay reached Limmer's ship; the one who answered nodded her head and fetched Tregare. "Bran? For today, I am fin-ished here."

  "All right. I can pick you up there in a few minutes."

  She waited longer than she expected, before Tregare ar-rived. Dr. Marco greeted him. "Do you want to make your own deposit today, captain?" He followed her out; soon they were back. The doctor said, "When it's time, then, Ms. Obrigo," and Rissa agreed.

  She took Tregare's hand; they walked out to the aircar. Before turning on power, he said, "Everything al right? What al happened?"

  She explained the procedures. "But meanwhile, Bran, we are barred from one another. For if I were to conceive, the zygote might be jeopardized."

  He frowned, then grinned. "What the hel, I already had to service myself once today. Know something? It felt silly-the old lady waiting outside the door for me to load her little bottle."

  She laughed. "Poor Bran! At least you are done with it-I must return for three extractions."

  "Maybe I'm not done. Marco'l make do with one sample if she has to, but she'd like one more in reserve. Al depends on whether I have time to go back again." Now he applied power and raised the aircar, turning toward the port. She was silent; he waited, then said, "Something wrong?"

  "Not with me, Bran-but- Oh-I" She repeated Estelle Marco's description of UET's methods. "It is worse than what I had guessed!"

  He reached and gripped her knee. "Now I know I have to go to Earth. Or somebody has to-and who else is there in shape to try it?"

  She was blinking back tears; with the back of her hand; she wiped them away. "They wil not be the same men-after al the years, those wil be dead."

  "Same kind, though. UET doesn't change-except for the worse."

  Now he dropped, and landed beside Lefthand Thread. "Rissa-we need to settle what we do right now. I have to ride to Base Two with Limmer-I know just where I want his ship sitting, and it's easier to show, or land it myself. Once landed, moving a ship across a field is damned wasteful."

  "I will miss you, Bran. Perhaps in two days I can join you."

  "Yes. I hoped you could go pack us up at the Lodge, bring our stuff here with someone to take the aircar back, and come along on the ship. But two days-it won't work." "Also, Bran, it would leave the car on the wrong side of the Hills." "I figured we could make a trip for it later, in the other one.

  Well-" He turned and kissed her. "Come when you can,

  then. Call first to see if I'm at One or at Two; all right?" "And you call me if there is any reason-or none at all." He got out; as she flew back to the Lodge, her thoughts

  ranged much farther.

  she did not wish to talk, so she entered the Lodge from the rear and went to her room. Both screen and intercom ter-minals showed calls waiting her attention; she left them to wait longer. She stripped to bathe but then sat, chin in palm and mind stalled at dead center. She felt hunger-both she and Tregare had forgotten lunch. She shook her head; she could wait until dinner. The action broke her trance; she filled the tub and walowed in it, splashing, for a few moments, like a child. She rose and gave herself a sketchy toweling, wringing most of the water from her hair but leaving the rest to dry of itself. Then she attended to the recorded calls. Item: Fennerabilis wanted a minor contract change. She thought briefly and shook her head; the request was after the fact, and she begrudged the time it would take to analyze it. Also he had not mentioned a monetary adjustment-until he did, the answer was no. And since it was his proposal, any follow-up would be his, also.

  Items: Sparline, Liesel, and Hawkman, in that order, wished to talk with her when she returned. She told eachHawkman personally and the other two in recording mode-that she would meet with al of them at dinner. Item: Deverel had word from Inconnu but declined to record it. Of course-he had no assurance of the terminal's privacy.

  She put on a robe and called Deverel. "Hain? Tregare is with Limmer, at the port. Later today they move ship to Base Two. If it is urgent, I can punch Lefthand Thread up for you on relay."

  The picture was unsteady, but she saw he smiled. "Not that urgent, Ms. Kerguelen-just that another ship's coming. I'm not sure which-at that point the tape got noisy. But it's good news."

  "Yes, and thank you for telling me." There was something more-oh, yes-"When I return to Base One, Tregare and I wish to return your hospitality, and Anse's. Belatedly, I k n o w . . . "

  His hand waved away her apology. "Well, thanks. Anse and I, we'll be looking forward to that. Any time it's conven-ient." He turned aside and said, "Okay, Anse-I'll help you with that stuff in a minute." Facing back to her;

  "We're loading a few things to take down to Base Two-a few local delicacies for the incoming ships that they probably won't find in One Point One. So I guess I'd better get back to work."

  She smiled. "And so should I, here. It is good to see you again." He waved a hand as the picture faded. Rissa breathed deeply; the talk of real here-and-now events had cleared her mind.

  It was a good time, she thought, for small chores. She took the reverser from her shoulder bag and concealed it once more in the hair dryer. She packed Bran's suitcase. Hand and foot she trimmed her nails, with special attention to the fighting talons-the broken one was growing back, but slowly. She brushed her drying hair, grasped the hank of it behind her, and brought it forward to inspect the ends. A bit ragged-she trimmed the offending wisps, then coiled the mass and pinned it at the crown of her head.

  No new calls showed on either communicator; she turned both switches from "Record" to "Receive." She went to the bathroom. "Returning, she chose clothing and dressed. She touched the intercom switch, then shook her head. She rummaged for another pair of earrings and ex-changed them for those she wore. She poured a flask-cap of brandy and sat, looking out at changing light and shadow on the slope of hills and, from time to time, sipping.

  The trouble was that now she did want to talk. But she waited.

  When the intercom sounded, Sparline answered her greet-ing. "Dinner's early tonight. Ready in a few minutes?"

  "I am near starvation. Bran and I forgot to eat at midday." To Sparline's giggle she answered, "No, not that-unfortu-nately. Our preoccupation was less pleasant."

  "Anything wrong?''

  "Not here, not now-not with us. We can speak of it later -but not while dining."

  "All right-last one to the table gets short rations!" The intercom clicked silent. Leaving the room, Rissa was smiling. she found Liesel and Hawkman at table. As she sat, Sparline entered, accompanied by Ernol. Keeping al reaction from her face, Rissa glanced quickly from the pair to Liesel.

  The older woman chuckled. "Don't hold your breath, Rissa. Ernol's here to celebrate his promotion t
o chief of Liai-son. Custom of the house."

  "Yes. I recall you mentioned need for such a position."

  Servers brought food and wine; as usual, during the meal there was little talk. When only wine and coffee remained, Sparline brought out drugsticks. Rissa abstained-and so, she noticed, did Ernol. The other three smoked briefly, and Liesel waved away Sparline's offer of another round. "Later, maybe. First let's talk from sharp minds, not mellow ones. Now-Rissa, how'd it go with you today? And with Bran?"

  "With Bran, as intended; tonight he guides Limmer to Base Two. With me-I cannot join him for two days-it was thus-" She related first the procedure at the Hatchery. Then, hesitantly, she repeated what Estelle Marco had told her. "Bran was as angry as I. He-" She stopped.

  Unsmiling, Hawkman laughed. "I think I know. Liesel?"

  "Peace, yes!" She slapped a palm on the table. "You're not giving anything away, Rissa. My son, litle as I've seen of him, can't fool me much more than my daughter can. He keeps his plans secret, so far-and that's his right. I can't guess the details, of course. I wish I could- anyone can benefit from consultation. But in the long run, I know what he's up to." Rissa shook her head. "How can you know? What is it you suspect?"

  "Suspect? Pull in your kite, girl-I know! He'll go to Earth-when and by what route I can't yet guess-and do his damnedest to pull UET out by the roots like a rotten tooth! What else could I expect from Bran Tregare?" She glared, red-faced; then the corners of her mouth twitched into a half-smile. "If I'm wrong, Rissa-I'l give you my half of the Bleeker bet, free and clear." Again Rissa's headshake- these people! "Liesel, you have out-gamed me. But you must realize-Tregare's is a long-term plan."

  "Well, I should hope so. I wouldn't want to think my only son believes real life is like the entertainment channels."

  "He does not. His plans are-impressive."

  "That's good. I-"