Collected Short Fiction (Jerry eBooks)

by J F Bone

  “I tried it on the male first,” Ven said.

  “Genius,” I breathed with icy sarcasm, “sheer genius!”

  “Well,” she said, “it worked!” The eternal pragmatist had applied her sole criterion. “And what’s more they looked and smelled lots better after they used it.”

  I shrugged, gave it up and turned my attention back to the mammals.

  Edith had emerged from her sack and was standing before the male.

  “Do I look like a nightmare?” she demanded.

  “No. More like a skinned rabbit—ouch! What did you do that for?” He rubbed his face where she struck him with her digits.

  “There!” Edith said. “Now do you think it’s a dream?”

  “I never did,” he replied mildly. “I’ve never dreamed in my life. I was just breaking it to you easy. It was real enough—even the blank spaces. I wonder—”

  “You wonder what?”

  “What their reason was for capturing us and then letting us go. It doesn’t make sense. They wouldn’t grab us just for fun. They’re obviously intelligent, and probably thought we would be useful to them. But they turned us loose. So we couldn’t be useful except maybe for amusement—but that doesn’t jell. No. They’ve done something to us. They’ve let us go for a reason.”

  “STOP analyzing!” Edith said. “Why don’t you just get scared, like I am!”

  “I am,” he said, “but I like to figure things out. If I know what frightens me, it doesn’t bother me so much.”

  “Do that while we’re on the way home. Get your clothes on and let’s get out of here! Right away!”

  “We have to pack.”

  “Oh, leave it! Let’s get out while we can!”

  “I don’t think we’re in any danger,” he said.

  “Well—I don’t want to stay here a minute longer!”

  “All right. We’ll go. But we’ll pack first. Look at it logically. They had us cold. We didn’t escape. We were let go. So why, if they didn’t want us then, should they want us now?”

  “Unless they can get us any time they want us.”

  “You have a point there, but if that’s the case, they can get us anyway. So let’s pack.”

  “You can pack if you want to. I’m leaving!” Edith pulled the opening to the tent and slipped out.

  “Edith!” Donald cried. “Wait!”

  I touched Ven. “Stop her,” I said.

  Edith’s voice came from outside. “Don!” she called in a tight voice. “Don! Help me! I can’t move!”

  “Try coming back here and see what happens,” Donald said slowly.

  Edith’s head appeared in the entrance. “I’m back,” she said in a small voice.

  “I thought you would be. Now let’s pack and perhaps they’ll let us go. It’s obvious that we can’t run away.”

  “But why? What’s happened to us?”

  “If I told you, you’d think I’m crazy.”

  “Tell me anyway. It can’t be any worse than this.”

  “I think,” Donald said slowly as he began to roll up his sleeping bag, “that we were kidnapped by extraterrestrials.”

  “Martians?”

  “Not necessarily,” he said. “But if I remember my nightmare correctly, they aren’t human—and they are obviously smart. So they aren’t of this earth. We don’t have intelligent reptiles here. And with their ability to control our actions, I’d say that they were from a considerably higher culture than ours. They’ve done things to us—but I don’t think they did them just for fun. They want us to do something.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. Right now I’d guess they want us to pack our things. Let’s do it and get out of here. This place smells like the reptile house in the zoo!”

  I was amazed. The native’s analysis was as logical as my own would have been under similar circumstances. There was nothing wrong with his mind or with his courage. That big braincase held a smoothly functioning mind and a cold courage I could almost envy. In a similar fix I wasn’t sure that I could be so calm.

  My respect for him mounted. If there were others like him on this world, his race could be a potential danger spot for the whole Galaxy. And, with the natural antipathy between our races, these creatures could be trouble if they ever reached space. I wondered for a moment if Authority had known this when It brought me here. There must be some design that I should land here when this race was still capable of being frustrated.

  For the sake of civilization I would have to learn more about these mammals. Much more. But since the male had deduced so much, there was only one logical course of action. I adjusted the filters on my helmet to allow the passage of surface thoughts, twisted the dials on the controller until the meters balanced and projected gently.

  “Donald—listen to me,” I said.

  He stiffened. “I thought you would be somewhere around,” he said. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Eu Kor, and I am a native of Thalassa.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “A good many spatial units from here—a good many of your light years,” I amended. “I mean you no harm, but I need your cooperation. My spaceship is crippled. Our fuel has deteriorated. We need more and I want you to get it for us. We captured you because we need your help. Being a native you would not make a ripple in this society. And we would create whirlpools.”

  “What is this material you want?”

  “A metal. Atomic number 50, a white metal used as an alloy component of primitive metallic cultures,” I said. “It shouldn’t be too hard to get.” I didn’t realize how hard it was to describe what I wanted. I wasn’t getting through, and it bothered me. The culture barrier was almost as bad as though we couldn’t contact mind to mind.

  “I think you mean tin,” he said. I grasped the concept and it seemed right.

  “Bring me some and I will run tests,” I said.

  “And what do I get in return?”

  I thought quickly. If he wanted to bargain perhaps we could reach an agreement. It’s always better to have a cooperative proxy. They don’t cause nearly the trouble in management. And I had other things to do than monitor natives. There was a great deal of repair work to be done on the ship before she would fly again. The subspace radio power bank had to be rebuilt and the circuits should be checked.

  “I can give you knowledge that you wouldn’t have for decades—maybe centuries,” I said. “And I can adjust your bodies for a longer and happier life.” I shot a glance at Ven still immersed in her helmet. “In fact, I have made a few adjustments already.”

  “So I noticed,” Donald thought dryly. “Although whether they’re an improvement or not I couldn’t say. But did you have to go to all this trouble?”

  “Think of us—and discount the fact that you carried us because our bodies are too weak for your heavy world.” I said. “Did you like us?”

  “No,” he said. “You repelled me. I disliked you on sight, more than I can say.”

  “The emotion is mutual,” I said. “Yet I can endure you. But with your glandular outlook you could only think of destroying us.”

  “That is true. But you treated us like animals.”

  “You are animals,” I said logically.

  “We are masters of this world. We recognize no higher authority. We are free people—not slaves. And unless we are treated as free agents you will get no cooperation from us.”

  “I can force you to do as I wish,” I said.

  “Prove it!”

  I took over. And while Donald watched with helpless horror his hand picked up a knife and drew it across his arm. The keen edge split the tissues neatly and the blood flowed.

  “Don! What are you doing!” Edith screamed and then stiffened as Ven took control.

  “Observe,” I said as I released control.

  “Why, you—” Donald began—and then continued in a tone of wonder. “Why—the cut’s closing! There’s no more blood—It’s gone!”

  “It’s j
ust one of the improvements I mentioned,” I said smugly. “You also had a patch of scar tissue on your left lung and infected kidneys. You do not have them now. Had you not met us you would have been dead within five of your years.”

  HE was shaken. I could feel it. “I do have Bright’s disease,” he said thoughtfully.

  “You had it,” I corrected.

  “All right,” he said suddenly, “I’ll bargain with you. You’ve done me a good turn and it deserves a payment. I’ll help you get your metal.” He grinned ruefully. “I guess I couldn’t do anything else.”

  “It makes it easier this way,” I said. I smiled to myself. I was telling him the truth, but not all of it. Nor did I trust him. There was fear and hatred in his lower centers, and a formless feeling in his upper levels that he could outsmart any damn lizard that ever lived. He didn’t realize that I could read his surface thoughts.

  “Just remember,” I said, “I can control you completely, if necessary, and pick your brain for data whether you wish it or not. And forget those ideas of informing your authorities about us. Except with your mate you cannot communicate to anyone about us. There’s a basic block in your brain that will result in irreversible mental damage if you try.”

  This last was not quite the truth. But I hoped that by establishing fear I would prevent talk. “Now find us samples of the metal I want.” I withdrew and went back to scanning.

  “What was going on there?” Edith said. “You were talking to empty air. And why did you cut yourself?”

  “It was one of our reptilian friends,” Don said. “Like I thought, they’re right with us—every way. He’s a weird sort. Wants to trade health and knowledge for tin.”

  “Tin?”

  “Yeah. At least I think it’s tin. His description of the metal fits. They use it instead of rocket juice.”

  “But that knife—your arm?”

  “Look. No cut—no blood. That’s one of the things they did to us. We’ve got puncture-proof skin.”

  “Is that good?”

  “It isn’t bad. And I don’t think I’ll ever have to shave again. As I remember I put that stuff on my face. Anyway, we now have a couple of fairy godmothers who ride around in spaceships instead of pumpkin coaches.”

  “You’re mixing your stories,” Edith said. “Cinderella travelled in the pumpkin coach, not her fairy godmother. And besides, it’s not funny. We’re more like those poor souls in the Middle Ages who were possessed by devils—incubuses, I think they called them.”

  “It makes no difference what you call them,” Donald said indifferently. “Whatever they are, we’ve got them and they’re not going to leave until they’re damn good and ready. Incidentally, yours is a female, so she’s probably a succubus. Now don’t start screaming. You’ll probably be paralyzed if you do.”

  “I won’t scream,” Edith said dully. “I’m too numb to scream.”

  IV

  WE had surprisingly little trouble with the two natives once they realized we could control them if we wished. Of the two, Edith was the worst. She refused to cooperate and had to be forced into the simplest actions.

  “We’re going to have trouble with that one,” I observed as Ven looked at me with faint exasperation in her yellow eyes.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” she said. “Not really. This is a normal female reaction. It’s a phase. Like the way I felt when the Eugenics Council selected me to be your mate.”

  “Did you feel like that?” I asked with surprise.

  “Of course. I wanted to make my own choice.”

  “But you never told me.”

  “There was no need. I came around to the Council’s view before I met you. And Edith will come around to mine. Don’t worry. I know how to handle this.”

  And she did.

  I helped a little by altering a few reflex arcs and basic attitudes, but Ven wouldn’t allow me to modify the higher centers.

  “There’s no need to make her a mindless idiot,” Ven said. “You didn’t do that to Donald.”

  “Yes, but Donald controls his emotions. He doesn’t like me any better than Edith likes you, but he doesn’t work himself into an emotional homogenate every time I make a suggestion. We argue it out like rational intelligences. Often I can use his experience and viewpoint. And when I can’t agree, he will cooperate rather than operate under control. He’s not like that bundle of glands and emotions you are trying to make into a useful proxy.”

  “She is a problem,” Ven admitted, “but if I had her here—”

  “That can be arranged,” I said. “I’ll give you two weeks. And if that doesn’t work you let me perform a prefrontal block.”

  “That isn’t very long.”

  “That’s all we can afford, I told her.

  “All right, I can try. In a month I know I could do it.”

  Donald protested violently when I told him what we planned for Edith, but when I gave him the alternative, he reluctantly agreed.

  He passed a story that Edith would be visiting friends, and brought her to the ship.

  At once Ven went systematically to work to reduce the mammal to an acquiescent state that would permit control. Since sleep is unknown to our race but necessary for mammals, the task of breaking down the female’s resistance was simplified by physical exhaustion. Ven also found that the mammal’s sleeping time could be used to strengthen the new reflex channels built during her waking periods. The results were amazing, even to me, and I’m fairly well trained in neuromanipulation. Halfway through the second week the mammal’s surrender was complete.

  “ANOTHER day and she can go back,” Ven said. “I can finish her training at long range. Now that I have the channels established, I don’t think she’ll be any further trouble.”

  I took the helmet and scanned Edith. “Hmm,” I said. “Do you know what you’ve done? You’ve built yourself into an Authority image.”

  “I know,” Ven said smugly. “She is essentially a dependent type. Her mate was her decision maker. That’s why I had to get her alone. It wasn’t too hard once I knew where to look. As a girl, her mother made the decisions for her. As a woman, Donald has done it. And when I faced her with situations where she had to decide and where the decisions were invariably wrong, she transferred the decision-making power to me.”

  I looked at her sharply. “I had no idea that you intended to make a pet out of her,” I said. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have permitted this.”

  “Well, it’s too late now. And besides, it was the only way I could do it in the time you allotted. But don’t worry. She’ll be as good a tool as your precious Donald—maybe even a better one—because she’ll do things to please me and not merely because they’re expedient.”

  Ven had a point there. But it isn’t a good policy to get emotionally involved with alien races. However, the deed was done, and as long as Ven was happy I didn’t care. I only hoped that she wouldn’t become too attached to the creature.

  Donald was much more cooperative and much tougher. He had realized from the start that there was no profit in objecting to my demands. But, unlike Edith, he gave me no handle for leverage. He arranged his life to include the unpleasant fact of my existence, and that was that. Where Ven achieved a form of mastery, I never received anything more than acquiescence. There were levels in Donald I could not touch. At first it irked me, but then I realized that I was the greater gainer. For Donald was a constant challenge, a delight to the mind, an outward collaborator and an inward enemy. Our relationship had all the elements of an armed truce. And I often thought that if I did not have the crushing advantage of control, our contest might have been more even.

  Although in time Donald’s hatred became modified to a grim sort of tolerance, and his repulsion into something that closely resembled admiration, he never lost the basic species antipathy which separated us. And in that regard our feelings were mutual. The ancient Thalassan proverb that familiarity breeds friendship simply didn’t apply. We held a mutual respect for each other, a
nd in a fashion we cooperated, but I never could pierce the armor of resentment that shielded him. I tried, but finally I gave up. There would never be friendship between us. We, were too different—

  And too alike.

  IN the days that followed the first contact, I proceeded according to approved methods of investigating alien civilizations. At my request, Donald went to the local book repository and we went through a number of works on law, government, social structure, and finance. I felt that I should have some knowledge of this mammalian culture before attempting to refuel the ship. There was no sense in calling attention to myself any more than necessary. If I could obtain what I wanted and leave quietly, I would be perfectly happy. This world was of interest—but it was too disturbing to contemplate for an extended period of time.

  “You were right, Eu Kor,” Ven said to me as we scanned the pattern of the mammals’ culture. “If you had picked any place less isolated than this, we might have been engulfed in that maelstrom.”

  I nodded. “It was more luck than design,” I said, “but I am happy that we are no closer. This world is not for us. It is too strange, too alien with its uncontrolled emotionalism and frightening energy.”

  “It reminds me of a malignant neoplasm,” Ven said, “growing uncontrolled, destroying the body from which it draws sustenance. Have you ever seen such a seething flux of people—such growth—such appalling waste and carelessness?”

  I shook my head. “The only parallel that comes to mind is Sennor.”

  “But that’s a dead world—killed by a suicidal race that achieved technology before it had attained culture.”

  “Which is precisely the situation we have here. Or have you observed their social inequities and history? Periodically these mammals erupt in merciless riots and slaughters over things that could be settled by reason. And oddly enough, these ‘wars’ as humans call them have the effect of stimulating technology. This is a race that apparently loves death and battle. A barbaric horde of cultural morons, with a civilized technology geared to mutual destruction.”