Twin-Bred

by Karen A. Wyle

Hal-tet broke into a run, shoving startled bar patrons out of his way. He slammed the door open, hearing it crack loudly against the wall. An adult human male was holding Artemesia against a wall, with one hand over her face. Another was unfastening his lower garments.

  Hal-tet froze for a moment, then let out a shout he had never heard from himself or any other, human or Tofa. The men jumped. The one holding Artemesia hesitated, then released her. The other backed away, fumbling with his clothing.

  Hal-tet strode forward and pulled Artemesia toward him. With a lower arm around her waist and an upper arm around her shoulders, he walked as fast as Artemesia could manage, ignoring the defiant shout from behind him: “At least we tried to show her about a real man!”

  Hal-tet and Artemesia stood at the helipad, waiting for the copter. The security team, faces stiff with embarrassment, had followed them out of the bar and now stood some distance away, ostentatiously scanning the surroundings for any sign of trouble.

  “Hal.” Artemesia could not force herself to speak above a whisper. Hal-tet leaned closer to hear her. “Was that — was that —”

  “It would have been. Rape.”

  “I thought so.” They stood in silence for a moment.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “My arms are sore. They’ll be bruised. And my shoulder — I might have pulled something.”

  Hal-tet laid a long finger on her shoulder and then pulled it away. “Is it feasible to kill them?”

  Artemesia looked at him and shuddered. What she was seeing was not like human fury: it was colder. The odor that rolled from him was like chlorine gas.

  “Let’s just get out of here as soon as we can. Please.”

  * CONFIDENTIAL *

  CLEARANCE CLASS 3 AND ABOVE

  LEVI Status Report, 2-1-88

  Executive Summary

  . . . The team has been debriefed, and analysis of the events is continuing. Recruitment of additional security personnel is being discussed, given that the need for confidentiality, while still present, no longer offers as serious an obstacle to terminating current employees or recruiting replacements.

  Until further notice, mediation teams have been instructed to decline offers of entertainment and to leave immediately after their efforts have been concluded. . . .

  Chapter 38

  It was Change Day once again. Almost all the staff had gathered to watch the transformation at dawn, along with those human Twin-Bred who were willing to attend without their twins. Mara's assistant caught her heading for her office and dragged her to join the others.

  Many of the staff lingered at breakfast afterward. Mara sat long enough to wolf down a muffin, took her coffee and headed for her office at last.

  “You know, sis, you could start talking to Dr. Tanner again. The Project is no longer secret, to put it mildly.”

  Mara threw her jacket over her extra chair and sat down at her desk. “There’s still the matter of your — appearances? Either I tell him, or I hide it from him. I don’t like either alternative.”

  “You never really explained why you don’t want to tell him.”

  “He might think this was carrying things a little far. Involving others, risking my career. He might say you’d gone from a basically healthy coping mechanism to an obsession.”

  “You’ve already come up with a nice scary diagnosis without him — doesn’t seem like you have much to lose by seeing if he agrees.”

  “Do you? Agree?”

  “Not really. It’s not as if you were neglecting your work or doing it less well. Or neglecting your acquaintances any more than you always have. Seeing me may be a temptation, but not an obsession. Any other bogeymen I can dispatch?”

  “The same one as before. I’m afraid that anything I change could be the one change too many. The one that makes me lose you.”

  “Silly Mara. We’ve already survived how many therapeutic discussions with our little family household intact?”

  Mara opened her mail program. “I’ll think about it. Maybe after the next time.”

  “Which is when?”

  “Judy and La-ren have a mission coming up. I should speak to La-ren anyway. I can ask him to stop by. Levi — There’s something I want to do, when I see him. Something we’ve never been able to do.”

  “I was wondering when that would occur to you.”

  “But if I do this, I’m sure to cry.”

  “If you must.”

  La-ren’s tablet buzzed an incoming call. “La-ren, it’s Dr. Cadell. When are you and Judy leaving for Anson Center?”

  “Tomorrow, at approximately noon.”

  “Please stop by my office sometime today, then. When would be convenient?”

  “That would depend on the amount of time necessary. And on whether you wish Judy to accompany me.”

  “That’s — that’s up to the two of you, La-ren. I know your memory is excellent. You can pass on to her anything I say about your mission. She may have a preference one way or the other — based upon the last time we met.”

  “Understood.”

  Mara heard the distinctive knock of Tofa knuckles on her door and hurried to open it. “La-ren. Thank you for coming. Judy preferred not to come with you?”

  “Yes. She finds it easier to contemplate our arrangement than to witness it.”

  Mara gestured toward what she understood to be the most comfortable bit of wall in her office, and closed the door behind La-ren. “I didn’t ask you here just — just for that favor. Although I would greatly appreciate it, after we talk about the Anson Center situation. Actually, about the way all the missions have been going lately.”

  La-ren leaned against the wall and appeared to gather his thoughts. His attitude, as best she could read it, was simultaneously serious and relaxed. “Per protocol, Judy and I have reviewed the recent mission reports. There has been a disturbing new element. From the beginning, we have encountered distrust and sometimes hostility from the humans involved, at least upon first arrival. Until recently the Tofa have reacted with anything from mild interest, to disinterest, to amusement. That has begun to change. In several recent missions, the Tofa have appeared impatient, uncomfortable, with our Tofa team members. Revulsion is too strong a term for what they have displayed, but it is on the same continuum.”

  “Can you think of anything that would account for this change in Tofa attitudes?”

  “We have not changed in any obviously material way. We are of course growing older. If our role is somehow less appropriate for fully mature Tofa than for younger ones, I am not aware of it. But such could be the case."

  Mara picked up the pot of hot chocolate her assistant kept full for her. She poured a mug for herself and looked inquiringly at La-ren. He nodded his sideways nod; she poured more chocolate into a mug shaped for Tofa convenience and handed it to him. As he held it under his chin and took a sip, his body odor shifted in the direction that indicated intense pleasure. It mingled pleasingly with the smell of the chocolate itself. How lovely that chocolate, one of her few indulgences, had turned out to be so appealing to Tofa.

  She dragged her mind back to the discussion. "You've cut to the heart of the matter. Don't be alarmed -- it's a human expression meaning that you've identified the most important issue. Our efforts are hampered by our very limited knowledge of Tofa psychology and culture. What we've been able to learn from you and the others is much better than nothing, but it falls far short of the way we understand human community dynamics. We'd hoped that the Tofa host mothers and nurses would fill in at least some of those gaps, once we could communicate with them better. But you know how that turned out."

  La-ren slurped up the last of his chocolate. "It has been years since the last adult Tofa left the Project. Perhaps the time is ripe for some attempt to renew contact — an attempt in which the Tofa Twin-Bred could participate."

  Mara took the mug from him and put it on her desk. "That's an excellent idea. I'll put together a brainstorming session. I'd like you to be the
re — I'll schedule it for after you and Judy return."

  There was a moment of silence. Mara finished her own chocolate, draining every drop and licking the rim of the mug before putting it down. She was gathering her nerve to address more personal matters when La-ren spoke again. "Concerning the recent change in Tofa attitudes: Judy has a hunch.”

  Mara, nervous, suppressed a giggle at his choice of words. “A hunch. Yes?”

  “Something about the timing of these and other events, and their occurrence in varied locations and situations, leads her to intuit that this change is in some manner orchestrated. That it is being deliberately fostered.”

  “By whom?”

  “Her hunch has not led that far. We will continue observing. If circumstances permit, we may ask that question.”

  Mara sighed. “I guess that’s as far as we can go with this, for now.”

  “Which allows us to turn to other concerns. To the favor you mentioned. Which I am happy to grant.”

  “I still feel that it’s asking too much. But — if you don’t feel that way, then whenever you’re ready. And thank you. Oh — could I ask you for one thing more? Could you turn around and then turn back? It might make this transition feel — well, a little more natural.”

  La-ren nodded; turned his back, then faced her again, wriggling his arms and shoulders as if getting comfortable in a new suit.

  “It’s good to see you, Mara. You don’t look in the mirror often enough. Though when you do, after these sessions, it’s a bit strange to see you left-right reversed. . . . You didn’t ask him.”

  Mara's chest was tight. She forced herself to breathe evenly. “I couldn’t. I’m passing the buck to you. You’d know, wouldn’t you, if — if he’d object?”

  “I believe I would. And I don’t believe he does. It’s not as if he’s never done anything like it with Judy. You may recall that you saw it once.”

  “That’s right, I did. I like to think of them — having that.”

  “So quit stalling, sis, and get over here.”

  La-ren opened his two lower arms and folded the others aside. Mara was, indeed, crying as she walked over to him, and put her arms around him. And hugged her brother tight.

  Chapter 39

  The hovercar dropped off the mediators and security team, then flew off to find itself a parking spot and await their recall. The craft was one of a small fleet recently designed and built by the Twin-Bred as a class project. It could accommodate human or Tofa drivers or passengers; its dual controls could be deployed or stowed depending on the driver. Such craft had obvious utility for blended communities; the mission teams now made a point of arriving in them.

  They were met by four humans and two Tofa, who returned their greeting with silent nods and short buzzes, respectively, and led them to a nearby building, down its entrance corridor and into a small room. The Tofa beckoned to La-ren and pointed down the corridor. When one member of the security team moved in that direction, the Tofa held out a rigid upper arm in obvious refusal. This was against protocol, but not unprecedented. The Tofa had been increasingly reluctant to allow ordinary humans, other than those involved in the dispute, to be present during mediation.

  La-ren turned to Judy. “I will contact you if I wish to consult during the session. Otherwise, we will meet back here and share our experiences.”

  “Good luck, La-ren. Whatever luck is.”

  “Remind me to inquire further on that subject when we return.” La-ren gave Judy a reassuring tap on the cheek and followed his Tofa escort out of the room.

  Judy sighed as she watched her brother leave. Separation was one of the unpleasant aspects of these missions.

  She caught motion in her peripheral vision, turned around and gasped. The four humans had abruptly grabbed the security guards and were tugging them toward the door. Two more humans came in and performed a quick and rough search for any weapons they might be carrying. They found the guards’ stun guns and tossed them aside. The others pulled and shoved the guards across the corridor to another room, thrust them in, slammed and locked the door. As she drew her breath to scream, someone slapped a hand tight across her mouth. Others held her arms behind her back.

  The rest of the men filed back into the room. One of them looked at her and ostentatiously shook his head.

  “You really one of those twin freaks? You look almost normal. Pretty, too. You get yourself out of that place, you could find a man, start living a proper life.”

  Judy tried unsuccessfully to bite the hand at her mouth. She struggled violently enough to break free of the hold on her left arm, but not her right, and she was soon secured again.

  “This is getting old,” muttered a voice from behind her. “Get a chair and some tape. We don’t know how long things will take, and she just kicked me.”

  Judy fought harder than she had ever imagined fighting, and asked herself hopelessly why fighting skills had not been part of her or La-ren’s education. She thought she slowed them down a minute or two before they succeeded in gagging her and tying her to a heavy wooden chair.

  The two Tofa who joined La-ren in the empty room did not seem eager to discuss the problem facing the community. La-ren waited a while, then asked, “Please tell me more about the purpose for which my sister and I have been invited.”

  The thinner of the Tofa turned slightly away. “That invitation was not unanimous.”

  More silence.

  La-ren tried again. “We were told that a dispute has arisen concerning the methods and locations for adding chemical supplements to the water supply.”

  The other Tofa responded this time. “There are more important problems. Which we will solve.”

  “That is interesting. Have you developed new methods of resolving community disputes without outside mediation?”

  “That is a question not easily answered without extensive discussion. Which will not take place today, with you. There are some humans who wish to meet with you.”

  This was unusual so early in a mission. It might be promising. Perhaps there were human members of this community who wished to improve their cross-species communication skills. “I am ready to meet with them. Will you be taking me to them?”

  “You will wait here. They will be coming.”

  The Tofa turned and left, closing the door behind them. La-ren had little time to run through various opening overtures before it opened again and eight humans filed through. They were all average or above average adult human height. They seemed to have come from some manual labor, for they were carrying various implements — a hoe, a shovel, a metal rake, and others he could not immediately identify. From some of the tools came a familiar and soothing smell, the smell of disturbed soil.

  La-ren wished Judy were present to help him assess the humans' demeanors. Several of the men were shifting their weight back and forth between their feet, and others were exchanging glances in a somewhat jerky fashion. He thought he smelled something like the beer consumed by some of the human Project staff.

  One of the men stepped forward and said abruptly, “Got some questions for you. You come here to talk, don’t you?”

  La-ren began to doubt his original hypothesis. These did not seem like humans eager to improve their communication skills. Unless they had been instructed to do so because those skills were particularly deficient.

  “How did they make you lot, anyway? Genes in a blender, was it?”

  La-ren reviewed his briefings as to what could be disclosed. “Twin pairs like Judy and myself were carried together by a human host mother, seventeen years ago. Since then, we have been raised together, so that the connections formed by our shared uterine experience have been intensified.”

  “That’s it?”

  “If I understand you, yes.”

  His interrogator seemed satisfied. “So when you’re gone, that’s it? No baby half-and-half’s on the way, no production line, none in the tank waiting to come out?”

  The men were surrounding him now.
One of them said, “That’s all right, then.” And raised the shovel.

  * SECRET *

  CLEARANCE CLASS 2 AND ABOVE*

  LEVI Status Report, 5-1-88

  Executive Summary

  Lethality Incident

  . . . The hovercar returned with the surviving human and the body of the Tofa twin. Debriefing indicated that the human, Judy Hanson, had been carried to the car in restraints and made to instruct her abductors as to how to set the controls for the Project compound. The security detail remains missing. A factor in the current moratorium is the unwillingness of security personnel to accompany future mission teams without lethal armament, and the difficulty of negotiating acceptance of teams carrying weapons adequate for self-defense against large groups.

  According to inspection and subsequent autopsy, the Tofa, La-ren, died of numerous blunt force injuries. . . .

  The staff on duty were gathered in the common room. There had been no announcements or meetings; the news was traveling by less formal methods.

  "Did the Tofa know what the humans had planned?"

  "Who the hell knows?"

  “Why did they let Judy get away?”

  “Nobody’s sure. Judy isn’t talking much, but from what I hear, she doesn’t really know. Maybe humans didn’t want to kill a human — and she’s got fewer Tofa quirks than some of them — or maybe something else was going on.”

  “Do they know who did it?”

  “They’ve got some suspects in custody. At least, they were in custody. We’re not sure what’s going on. The authorities ID’d them because one of the killers made his rounds of the bars and was boasting about it, and another one sobered up and had some qualms after the fact, told his mother all about it and his sister-in-law turned him in.”

  “Has Dr. Cadell come out of her quarters at all?”

  “Not since we heard. Not for a moment.”

  The Deputy Administrator for the Long-Term Emissary Viviparous Initiative was accustomed to having politically difficult situations land in his lap — but none as challenging as this. He shifted uneasily in the witness chair. The Council had insisted that he appear in person: their need to posture and expostulate could not, apparently, be satisfied via any long-distance communication.