The protective ring of Skagans turned and whacked the couple around their heads with their shovels.
“You are killing them,” shouted Tom.
“Stunning,” said Vac calmly.
“But why?”
“You can’t bury someone while they are still breathing. I mean, they’d get dirt up their noses, and all that.”
Tom watched helplessly as the couple were slowly covered in earth.
Vac returned, dusting his hands together to knock off the soil. “It is finished, Sah,” he said. “We must leave them now.”
“But they will suffocate.”
“They will not. That is why we hit them with the shovels. They will survive. They are Skagans. The mating ritual is over. In a year, we will hear the trample of tiny feet. Come and join the celebrations.”
In the nearby Skagan village, Tom and the Magus rested, exhausted, in the guest hut provided for them. They were freshly bathed, and the Skagan women who had attended to their every need (Skagans do not forget their duty of hospitality, even during the breeding season) had recently left them, returning to the conference hut, to sing songs and tell tales of the old days when Skagans ruled the cosmos.
“What was that all about?” Tom struggled to sit up.
“Something to do with the propagation I think. You always told them they should try to make babies to stop the race dying out.”
“They spend all their time trying to make babies, but nothing ever happens. I’ve never seen a pregnant Skagan, or any little ones.”
The blanket over the hut door was pushed aside. “You won’t.”
“Tanda, what a lovely surprise.” Tom came to attention in more than one area as he remembered the trysts he had shared with the grey-eyed beauty, deputy leader of the Skagan tribe.
“Ah, Two-Dan, my hero,” she said, slipping her hand inside his trousers. “I see you are still pleased to see me.”
“Always,” said Tom, gasping slightly. “I love you, but I’m exhausted after the Skaganl greeting... and slightly sore, if truth be told.”
Tanda laughed and pulled her hand away. “Lie with me then, and I’ll give you the explanation you deserve. You too, Magus, there’s space on this king-size greeting bed.”
The Magus lay on the other side of Tanda. “I’m sorry,” he said, “my hand seems to have slipped on to your breast. I forgot myself; it’s a habit.”
She giggled. ”Actually it’s not a habit, it’s a smock for accessibility, but I’m not complaining.”
“You said something about an explanation?” Tom rested his head on the side of her chest. “Is that your hand, Magus?”
“Probably,” said the Magus. “Perhaps I’ll stay with the breast on my own side.”
“You were always going on at Vac to encourage the breeding and make some more Skagans,” said Tanda.
“He kept being evasive. I thought he didn’t understand,” said Tom, settling his head more comfortably and resting his hand on Tanda’s firm stomach.
“Knowing Vac, probably not,” said Tanda, “but we Skagans have a guilty secret. You have witnessed more than any outsider, so you should know the truth. Agree it will go no further.”
“Of course.”
“You too, Magus.”
“Detectives’ honour,” said the Magus, tweaking her nipple.
“Right.” Tanda grimaced. He winked at her. She took a breath. “What you witnessed today is the real way new Skagans are created.”
“What, the burying and the earth and all that?” The Magus withdrew his hand.
“Yes, we call it ‘The Big Sneeze’. Our normal mating process is to rub noses until it triggers the reaction, but because Groat and Spigot were away from their home turf, they were unable to use local plant spores to help with the expulsion of the mucus. You see, that slime contains the seeds of the new generation. Two Skagans mixing it together triggers the growth sequence. We then bury the parents in the soil to prevent any loss of nutrients, and guard, particularly against any of the local deer, who love a good lick. There are also other creatures, such as the truffle-pig-dogs, that would quite happily dig up our developing progeny, so we need to be vigilant.”
“You actually grow new Skagans?”
“Yes. You know we are vegetarians? That actually extends to our makeup and bodies too.”
“You mean to say I had sex with a plant?” Tom gaped.
“Of course not. As we develop, the cells mature into a structure you would recognise, warm-blooded and all that.”
“How long to turn from plant into human?” said the Magus.
“Depending on the soil and fertiliser, the external temperature and the amount of rain, anything up to a year.”
“That’s a long gestation period.”
“They are fully-grown when they emerge from the soil.”
“Ah. But what about the parents?”
“They will resurface in a short while. They too feed on the nutrients in the earth, and will remain underground until the cocoon forms around the developing infant... And that is the real reason why we do all the public shagging.”
“To hide the fact that you are of the earth and from the earth,” said Tom. “Nobody would even think of looking further. Do you really enjoy all the continuous conventional sex then?”
“Not really, but we have to keep up appearances. Good news though; now that you and the Magus know all about us, we don’t need to have sex with you anymore.”
There was a wail of anguish from the Magus. “There goes my reason to live!”
Before he could begin to beg for a reconsideration, the clear sound of a horn echoed around the stockade. “Oh, what’s that?” Tanda sat up, hastily brushing the two men away. “Is something attacking the breeding ground? I must leave you.”
“We will come too, won’t we, Magus?”
“I’ll have a doze first, to get over the shock.”
“No, you will come and help.” Tom hauled the little man upright and towed him after Tanda as she loped across the compound. “Come on, keep up.”
They both stopped in horror at the edge of the allotment clearing. Inside, the entire Skagan tribe was desperately trying to move the doku herd off the open soil. The creatures had broken through the wooden fence surrounding the area, and were busily trampling the freshly dug propagation beds. Their hooves had made deep impressions in the ground. Tom recognised Groat and Spigot, and the two lovers, still covered in dirt, and frantically punching the beasts in their heads. The doku were unfazed. Vac appeared, his face twisted with fury.
“These are your animals?” he managed to splutter. The Magus did an about-turn and tried to escape. He was intercepted by two Skagans and dragged back.
“They’re his,” said the Magus, pointing at Tom. “They came in his ship.”
“Call them off,” said Tom. “They seem to listen to you.”
“Yes, call them off,” said Vac, “or I slit your miserable throat now, and have you torn apart by my colleagues here.”
The Magus flapped his arms.
“And if you try to MUPPET, I’ll kill you before you even think of it,” said Vac, holding a long knife to the Magus’ throat.
“Call them off, Magus,” said Tom. “Get them to come to you.”
The Magus shook off his captors and strode uncertainly into the herd. Large heads turned and large tongues started to lick him. “Come on you lot.” He grabbed the horns of the nearest creature and started to pull. To Tom’s surprise, the beast didn’t resist and allowed itself to be led away from the chaos. The others began to follow, and the entire herd moved away from the allotment. Vac sent a pair of his men after them with instructions to bring the Magus back when he had corralled the beasts successfully.
In the morning light, the extent of the damage was revealed. The allotment was a wreck. Planted crops had been chewed to the ground and the breeding patch was pitted with hoof-holes and splattered with doku dung. The place sta
nk. Groat and Spigot were staring sadly at the mess, while the lovers wept openly. Tom and the Magus were firmly restrained.
“You have committed a crime against the entire Skagan race,” said Tanda, tiredly. “The penalty is death by Smak.”
“Smak?” Tom stared at his feet. “It doesn’t sound pleasant.”
“Neither does the ‘death’ bit,” added the Magus.
Tanda folded her arms. “The smak is a carnivorous plant that feeds by stabbing its prey with its roots, and sucking out the juices. You will be staked in one of the clearings it lives in, and left to be eaten that way. It is the law.”
“Have we a right to a hearing?” said the Magus. “I mean it’s really Two-Dan’s fault. The beasts stowed on board. How were we to know they would prefer your garden to the wonderful foliage in the meadows?”
“You brought dangerous animals to our planet, failed to control them, and let them destroy our nursery,” said Tanda. “Why would a hearing be in order? There is no doubt regarding your guilt.”
“Yes,” said Vac as he arrived, wiping muddy hands on a cloth. “You are guilty, Sah, and you will pay the price.”
“I can only apologise. I didn’t know.” Tom hung his head.
“The sentence will be carried out immediately,” said Vac. “The smak feeds at midday so you have the morning to reflect upon your sins. We are vegetarian so cannot eat the fell beasts you brought with you, but we will outsource having the creatures converted to burgers, which I am told, are highly prized across some worlds, in particular Sapristi, where they are singly responsible for the obesity problem. We will have double revenge. I haven’t forgotten the problems at SCT and the parking junta. Long may they die of lard poisoning.”
“It might not be our fault, then,” said the Magus hopefully. “If the parking junta hadn’t taken over SCT and sent Two-Dan into exile, we wouldn’t be here and the nursery would be safe.”
Vac looked thoughtful. “I suppose that’s true...”
“Don’t be fooled,” said Tanda. “If you take that argument further, we get back to Two-Dan anyway. If he had never gone to Sapristi... if he had never travelled between universes... if he had never been born...”
“He is guilty by being alive, and therefore the Magus too, by association.”
“And the beasts do belong to the Magus,” said Tanda. “I’ve seen them licking him.”
“I’ve never met them before in my life,” spluttered the little man as one of the creatures came up behind him and butted him gently.
“Off to the clearing with them,” said Tanda. “You have a few hours to reflect upon your sins and then the sentence will be carried out.”
Tom and the Magus were tied, spread-eagled in the forest. “And this is how it ends,” said Tom. “Sucked off by a bloody plant.”
“Not nice,” said the Magus. “The roots stab you and slurp you out from the inside.”
“Did I want to remember that? Anyway, it’s all right for you,” said Tom. “You can simply teleport your way out of this.”
“I’ve tried,” said the Magus. “Nothing happens. I have no powers here. I think it may be the influence of the smak plant. Tanda said it was right underneath us. Its root system extends around the whole of this clearing, waiting for something to grab.”
“Then our days of sinking ale are over, and I don’t appreciate that you tried to place all the blame on me. They are your herd from Glenforbis, though I still don’t know how they got aboard. Did you let them on?”
“Not I,” said the Magus. “Maybe they were planted by insurgents to get us into trouble. Perhaps there really were some enemy agents, despite us disbelieving Vac when he used them as an excuse to build all those defences.”
“If so, it has been the longest, and most scheming, assassination in history, and it is going to work, unless you can get your ropes loose?”
“Not a chance. Skagan knots are renowned through the galaxy. They perfected them in those bondage games they are so fond of sharing with unsuspecting punters.”
“I’d have liked a punt,” said Tom wistfully. “Poling up and down a tranquil river with a lovely lady in the stern and a parasol to keep the rain off, and a bottle of champagne. And now it will never happen. So when is this plant supposed to appear?”
“Not till midday. Apparently, they feed better in the full sunshine.”
“What’s that there?” As Tom craned his neck, he caught a glimpse of a tiny root breaking the surface of the clearing, pushing the grass to one side. It was followed soon afterwards by a larger root, and gradually the whole of the clearing began to move. A ring of waving prehensile stems surrounded them.
“This is it, then,” said Tom. “Adieu old friend, even though you did try to drop me in it to save your own skin.”
“I’d have come to the rescue if they’d let me off. Rannie already has a good lawyer she promised to sell me.”
“You are all heart. Those bits of you which aren’t arsehole, that is.”
“There’s no need to be vulgar,” said the Magus. “We are in this together.”
The ground underneath them shook.
“I think we are going to be in this plant together,” said Tom as the bulk of the smak hauled itself out of the soil. The central stem seemed to give a malicious leer as it towered above them, and then the roots jabbed downwards at its helpless victims.
Archangels
In which Kara tells the truth
K
ara burst into a large hall. At the end was a throne, bedecked in curtains. A distant figure, glittering in a white raiment, stood up from it and beckoned her across the open space. There were guards at intervals along the sides of the hall. Each one fell face-forward in homage as she passed.
As Kara walked along the stone floor, a vague feeling of recognition stirred. She increased the magnification on her optical sensors and registered another woman, slim, dark-haired, exquisitely beautiful, and Kara decided, probably not human. One of the main clues to this assumption were the magnificent wings spread out behind her. This was the Great Archangel? The creature came to meet her, and the two stood face-to-face, surveying each other for a few moments.
“I don’t like your shoes,” said the archangel.
“You could do better with that make-up,” retorted Kara. “And white is soooo last parallel universe. Anyway, who are you? You don’t look like a great archangel to me, despite the wings. Don’t you know that for a humanoid to fly, the muscles required would distort your body beyond all recognition? Or are you from a world with negligible gravity?”
The angel clapped her hands and waved the guards away. They shuffled out backwards on hands and knees. It took some time. The angel snorted. “For fuck’s sake, piss off you lot. Stand up and run away before I turn you all into the worms that you are.”
The hall emptied in a cloud of dust. The angel coughed and unclipped her wings, laying them carefully behind the throne.
“They really get on my tits sometimes; grovelling toads.”
“You could tone down the god thing, I suppose,” said Kara. “They seem terrified.”
“Nah, I need them to fear me, otherwise, I’d never get anything done.” She looked suspiciously at Kara. “You’re not from around here, are you? I suppose I can trust you,” she said eventually. “I might need your help.”
“I can certainly improve your dress-sense,” said Kara. “That outfit does nothing for your figure. Makes you look too thin, and a different colour would show off your complexion better.”
“I didn’t mean my appearance. That’s only for the benefit of the Tweenies.”
“Is that what they call themselves?”
“No, they didn’t have a name. In fact, they don’t have names for anything. How they survived is beyond me, but they seemed to be doing all right, and can be trained so easily to do anything. I called them that, to try and wean them off calling themselves the Great Archangel.”
“
They seem to call everything else that too. Why would that be?”
“Probably because my real name is Arianne Archangel,” said the woman. “I landed here by accident, and because I was so different from anything they had seen before, they naturally assumed I was a god, and why wouldn’t they?” Arianne smiled at herself in a strategically-placed mirror.
“And they named everything else after you?”
“I can think of worse things. I had to do something to stop myself going mad. I have been trapped here for centuries...”
“How long?”
“Four centuries... since my ship was grounded after an automatic update kyboshed the translocation unit.”
“Translocation unit?”
Arianne sighed. “Yes, I used it for getting about in Time, in addition to Space... you know, moving between sales of sofas, shoe-shops and fast food joints, making a bit of cash here and there, as required. All that stopped,” she said gazing sadly around the opulent hall, “when I was trapped here.”
“Four hundred years?” said Kara slowly. “What species are you?”
“A god, according to this lot,” said Arianne. “How else would I be so perfect?”
“I can think of a reason,” said Kara. “Can you remember where you came from?”
Arianne shook her head. “I’m not sure. I can’t remember anything before I got here. I have odd flashbacks about some grunting fat guy on top of me, trying to stick his willy in my...”
“I get the picture.”
“And I wasn’t having anyone abusing my armpits. I can remember being surprised how easily his head came off, but you should have seen the mess...”
“You’ve got a Time machine of some sort?”
“He didn’t need it any more, seeing as how he was dead, and all that. It was quite amusing, but the gendarmes didn’t think it was so much of a joke, and were for sending me to the ‘recycle bin’, they said. An odd turn of phrase, I thought, but I didn’t wait to find out.”
“I don’t suppose the authorities were very pleased.”
The Fourteenth Adjustment Page 10