Keith said, “Not to change the subject, but what’s going on with Mike? Jody says he’s no help with the work because he’s always running off to check on Mom.”
Cord felt warmth flood his face. He’d never told Keith or Kella about their mother and Mike. They both turned to him. “What is it? Cord, you know something!”
“No, I don’t.”
Kella bit her lip critically. “Yes, you do. What’s wrong with you lately? You don’t sit with Clari, you blush about Mike, you skulk around here like a wounded coyote. What’s wrong?”
Cord couldn’t help it; he laughed. ‘“What’s wrong?’ The pribir aren’t arriving, Hannah died of some micro that could still be around, the farm is failing, Sam’s group is ready to shoot the only people who can help us, and Lillie is dying! What’s wrong?”
Kella said hotly, “I meant with you!”
Keith, in a rare moment of social observance, said, “Cord, why do you always call Mom ‘Lillie’? Like she’s not your mother?”
Cord didn’t answer. He didn’t know why. It had something to do with her remoteness when he was small, or their special understanding after that, or Clari, or something. Before Keith could press him, Emily burst into the room.
“Keith! Shut that window!”
“Why?” Kella demanded. “It’s hot as hell in here already. The babies — “
“The babies are my concern,” Emily said grimly. “And you. We miscalculated. Your generation isn’t safe after all, and … and …” She broke down, gasped for air, pulled herself together.
“One of Angie’s babies just died of a micro. Mutated from the war, Scott says. A micro that must have just blown in on yesterday’s shift in the wind.”
Cord moved slowly to the window and closed it.
If a mutated micro could kill one of Angie’s babies, a baby that had inherited all the protection built into her pribir-designed genes, then it could kill any one of them. Any one of them at all.
“Clari,” he said aloud, and pushed past his brother toward the door. It was blocked by Taneesha, still widely pregnant, her brown eyes opened so wide the whites glittered against her dark skin.
“Cord,” she said, and then stopped.
“What? Get out of my way!”
But she gripped his sleeve, and something in her face stopped him from shaking her off. Her eyes slid sideways toward Emily.
“Let me past!” Emily snapped. “I have to get everybody else inside with closed windows!”
When she was gone, Taneesha clumsily kicked the door closed. “Cord,” she said hoarsely, “they’re here. Down by Dead Men’s Arroyo. A space ship, Gavin saw it come down. They’re here.”
Cord went, and Keith, and Dakota, the only other one of their generation they could instantly find who wasn’t having babies. He’d been on his way to see Kella. Gavin had whispered the news to Taneesha and immediately gone back to the arroyo, to watch the ship. None of the older ones knew yet.
“Just a minute, I have to get something at the big house,” Keith said.
“What? You don’t need anything!” Dakota snapped. “Just go ahead, I’m right behind you.”
Cord and Dakota slipped away from the farm and raced the mile to the arroyo. Late afternoon shadows slanted purple over the ground. The wind had picked up, and Cord felt it blow hot against his face, stinging skin with bits of grit. Keith, a fast runner, caught up with them at the edge of the arroyo.
The ship sat on the far side, motionless. Cord gaped. Used to rough wood, stone, adobe, with small machines hoarded carefully and cared for devotedly, he had never seen so much metal in one place. It was beautiful. Dull silver, or maybe more of a pewter color. Hannah had had pewter candlesticks, heirlooms brought with her from the cities. They were Loni’s now. This ship would make a million candlesticks, Cord thought. As large as the big house, it had what was clearly a door on the side facing away from the farm.
“How did it get down without us seeing it?” Dakota whispered. Cord understood. He felt like whispering, himself.
Gavin said, “It didn’t. It came in … sideways. Riding low over the ground from the east, I don’t know from how far away. It came in so fast.” His voice held awe.
Cord slid down into the dry arroyo and started to climb up the opposite side. After a moment, the others followed him. Hesitantly he put one hand on the ship. It felt warm, but no warmer than saddle fittings got from the sun. But this wasn’t saddle fittings, this was a space ship, and it had come from somewhere out there among the stars. He was the first human being to touch it.
If Keith hadn’t dragged him to see Kella’s babies … if Gavin hadn’t encountered Taneesha first in his mad rush to inform somebody, anybody, at the farm … if Emily hadn’t rounded up everybody to go inside and shut the windows …
Inside. They would all be in the big house now, and they’d have already noticed the four boys were missing. They’d make Taneesha tell. Or Spring would track them to the arroyo; Spring could track anything.
“We have to make the pribir come out!” he said. “Or go inside ourselves. We have to warn them the others are mad at them and might—”
“Shit, yes,” Dakota breathed. “How?”
Cord looked at the pewter ship. He walked around to the door and knocked, feeling an absolute fool. Well, the pribir were human, weren’t they? That’s what Dr. Wilkins had said: human DNA. So would they recognize knocking?
“Pam! Pete!” Keith bawled. “We’re here! Can you guys come out a minute?”
“Shit, Keith!” Dakota said. “They’re not kids!”
Keith wasn’t deterred. “Miss Pam! Mr. Pete! Can you come out here a minute? We got something you should know!”
Cord held his breath. Nothing happened.
Keith yelled, “We got sick people who need your gene help! Hannah died, and my mother is sick. Lillie … you remember Lillie, she was on your ship before!”
“And she isn’t going in there again,” another voice said.
Cord whipped around. Sam stood across the arroyo, holding a gun. Behind him were Alex, Bonnie, and Rafe.
Time seemed to stop. Cord took a step forward, then didn’t know what to do. But Sam did. He led the others down the arroyo and up the other side. Unerringly he walked to the side of the ship with the door. Dakota, Cord, and Gavin looked at each other. Keith had disappeared.
“Go back home, you boys,” Sam said.
“We―”
“Go! This hasn’t got a damn thing to do with you. You weren’t even born when those aliens … go home.”
Cord had never liked Sam. Rafe and Alex were all right. Mike — Cord’s feelings about Mike were complicated. But he’d always considered Sam a loudmouth, a bully if anyone would have let him be one, and not even very smart. Cord caught Gavin’s and then Dakota’s eyes, and Gavin started talking.
“Rafe, Alex, Bonnie … you don’t want to hurt the pribir. You know you don’t. Whatever they did before, they might be able to cure Lillie. And maybe prevent another baby dying, like Angie’s baby did. And anyway, do you really think a gun could hurt them? They came all the way from the stars in a ship that twists time! Do you think a Smith & Wesson can stop people like that? You’ll only get yourself killed, maybe.”
Bonnie said, “He’s right, Sam. Rafe and I told you this isn’t the way. We — “
Sam fired at the ship, an obscenely loud sound in the gathering dusk. The bullet ricocheted, not even denting the metal, and flew out over the mesquite. Rafe shouted, “You crazy son of a bitch!” and the door of the ship began to open.
Sam stepped back and prepared to fire again. Before he could, another shot sounded and Sam screamed. He dropped the gun and clutched his right arm. Keith stepped from behind a boulder, holding Jody’s cherished Braunhausen. At the same time a cloud of blue gas jetted out of the ship into Sam’s face. Instantly he crumpled to the ground. Rafe, standing closest to him, swayed and also fell. The door finished opening and two people, a young man and young woman dressed in
khaki pants and yellow T-shirts, stepped out. They completely ignored Sam and Rafe on the ground, and Keith holding the gun.
“What have you people been doing!” Pam screamed. “How could you have ruined everything in only fifteen fucking years?”
CHAPTER 25
They were people, Cord would think later. They were humans, or made in the shape of humans, with human brains and human feelings. And they were young, Lillie had said so, said that this was their first job of engineering. Human, young, furious that their work was being ruined. Like little kids when a fort was destroyed by the wind, branches and mesquite and an old blanket all blown and scattered over the ground. So they got mad, they … they had a tantrum. The pribir had a tantrum. They were alien kids.
Cord didn’t think this while he stood gaping at Pam and Pete. He couldn’t think anything. Pam looked in her twenties, maybe, her beautiful face a light brown color framed by soft brown hair parted in the middle and falling to her shoulders. Her skin was flawless: no purplish skin cancers, no lines from squinting into the sun, no windbum, no rough patches from harsh soap. Pete, too. Their clothes looked like something on Net shows from decades ago. They carried nothing.
None of it felt real.
Keith recovered first. He walked straight over to Sam and stood over the body. Cord saw his brother’s lip tremble. Keith said, “Is Sam dead?” He still held Jody’s gun.
Pete snapped, “Of course he’s not dead. Neither of them are. They’ll revive in a few minutes. Give me that ridiculous weapon, please!”
After a moment Keith handed Pete the gun. Where did his brother get the courage? Or maybe Keith just didn’t want to end up on the ground like Sam and Rafe. Pam, still scowling and glaring, held out her hand to Gavin and hesitantly he put Sam’s pistol into it.
Cord heard himself say, “Sam didn’t mean to …” Stupid! Of course Sam meant to. “I mean, he just wasn’t sure about… you.”
Dakota said in a sudden burst, “None of them are. The ones who were on your ship before. They say you manipulated them and used them. But we young ones don’t think that. We’ve been waiting for you!”
“You have?” Pam’s face softened. Was she that easy to flatter? Cord thought dazedly. And yet Dakota had only spoken the truth. It was just that this whole thing was not at all what Cord had expected.
Pete said, “Well, of course we would plan to come for the birth of the next generation, next month. You must have known that.”
They knew when the girls would all get pregnant. Which meant they’d known exactly when those temporarily unstoppable sexual feelings would overwhelm the farm. They’d designed all that frantic, driven sex into Cord’s genes. He felt his face grow hot.
Dakota said, “Most of the babies are already born.”
Gavin added, “And one already died.”
Pam’s face darkened again. She was moodier than Ashley, even. “Born? Died? Your gestation period is supposed to be nine months!”
“Yeah, well,” Dakota mumbled.
Gavin added, more helpfully, “Dr. Wilkins says they come early when there’s three at a time.”
Pam and Pete looked at each other. Cord saw that they hadn’t known that. Doubt hit him like a blast of hot air. They were supposed to know all about humans! What else didn’t they know?
Pete said, “One offspring died? Of what?”
“Of this perversion of the right way!” Pam said. She was back to full anger. “This fucking ‘war’! How dare you misuse the right way!”
Keith, now also riled, said, “We didn’t! We’re just trying to survive it!”
“Oh,” Pam said, and subsided again. After a moment she seemed to remember. “You said Lillie was sick?”
Cord nodded, unable to speak. Keith said eagerly, “You remember our mother? Lillie?”
“Of course,” Pam said, “we’ve only been gone a few months. Now let’s go to your home base. Get in the ship.”
Nothing was like Cord imagined it would be. Nothing.
He was the only one who would ride to the farm in the ship. Keith, Dakota, and Gavin refused. Instead they ran home. “Should we tell everybody you’re here?” Gavin asked uncertainly.
“Of course,” Pete said.
Keith said, “But… they might try to kill you again.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Pete said.
Keith’s eyes narrowed. “Why not? What are you going to do?”
The pribir didn’t answer. Cord looked again at their healthy human good looks, their casual old-fashioned clothing, and a kind of dizziness came over him. It was like a dream, or a Net show. It wasn’t real.
Pam said, “We’ll just smell to them before we open the ship.”
Cord finally had to say something. “Miss Pam, Mr. Pete — “
“Just ‘Pam’ and ‘Pete,’” Pam said smiling, and she reminded Cord of Spring’s ten-year-old daughter, Terri, playing grown-up. The thought horrified him.
He tried again. “If you drug our families … the people at the farm … they’re going to be even madder and want even more to hurt you back. They resent you fooling around with their feelings.”
“Really?” Pete said. He sounded genuinely interested. “Why?”
Cord stared at him, dumbfounded. He had championed the pribir, believed in them … he still believed in them! But even he understood their parents’ objections to what Dr. Wilkins called “mood manipulation.”
Keith said shortly, “They’ll resent it because their feelings are their own.”
Pam said thoughtfully, “But it would be all right to smell information to them? Why is that different? Surely their ideas are just as much their own as their feelings.”
The boys were silent.
“You can’t explain it?” Pam said, and Cord heard triumph in her voice. “See, Pete? They don’t understand their own irrationality any better than we do!”
Keith said hotly, “It’s not irrationality! It’s … it’s …” But he couldn’t explain what it was.
Neither could Cord. He said, “Send them just information, not feelings. Send them information that you can cure my mother and you can stop more babies from dying. Then they’ll accept you.
Pete said, “At least they can understand that much of the right way. Do you humans even realize how perverted your misuse of it has been?”
Pam said, more practically, “What if we can’t cure Lillie or save more babies? Pete’s right, you know. You people exceeded all genetic perversions that we’d planned for. I’m not even sure you’re worth this much trouble at all. We have other planets we’re working on, you know.”
Other planets. Cord clung desperately to the here and now. He repeated, “Just send them information. Say you can cure my mother and you can stop more babies from dying.”
“Well, all right, if you insist,” Pam said sulkily.
Sam and Rafe stirred on the ground. Pete said, “Do you want to dump those two in the ship? We can bring them.”
“I think,” Gavin said quickly, “they’d rather walk.”
“All right. Come on, Lillie’s offspring … what’s your name?”
“Cord,” he said, and his voice came out strangled. The ship door opened.
Nothing was like Cord imagined it would be.
The inside of the ship was small and blank. He was bewildered until he realized this was only one small section, even though he saw nothing that could be called a door. Pete spoke some high-pitched sounds no human throat could ever make, and the ship lifted slightly. A window appeared —just appeared!—in the front and Cord saw they were following Keith and Dakota, moving toward the farm at a fast jog. Gavin must be waiting for Rafe and Sam to wake up. How was Keith going to explain to Jody that the pribir were now in possession of Jody’s cherished gun?
Pam was studying Cord intently. “So you’re Lillie’s offspring.”
“I’m her son, yes. So is Keith.”
She didn’t ask which one was Keith. “You’re the child I built with her e
ye genes, that gray with gold flecks. And the girl, your … sister? Has she had her offspring yet?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, I wanted to be there for the birth. I was very close to your mother, you know. She admired me intensely. We had a special relationship, aboard our ship.”
Fifteen years ago. Didn’t they realized how much that generation had changed in ways that weren’t physical?
Pam continued, “What is she sickening of?”
“A micro. One genetically engineered to kill people in the war. Airborne.”
“Well, I guessed that much. What is the micro’s genome? I wish you could smell me its prabisirks.”
Cord had no idea what a “prabisirk” was. He said helplessly, “You need to ask Dr. Wilkins. Or Emily. They’re our geneticists.”
“I remember Emily,” Pam said. “An intelligent girl. But who is Dr. Wilkins?”
“Scott Wilkins. He was … was one of the kids at Andrews Air Force Base but he didn’t go with my mother and the rest on your ship.”
“Oh, one of those,” Pam said, clearly losing interest in Scott Wilkins. “They don’t matter.”
Cord had to ask. “Don’t matter how?”
“They’re not carrying the engineered genes, the right way,” Pam asked, clearly surprised by the question. “Like you and your children.”
“But…” He couldn’t find words for what he wanted to say. The best he could do was, “But my mother doesn’t have my engineered genes, either. All she got was that she can smell your information. And a boosted immune system.” But not boosted enough.
Nancy Kress Page 27
