The Secret of Spring

by Piers Anthony

  She winced as light flashed brightly through the open door, almost releasing her tenuous grip on the edge. Luckily, she was holding with both hands, having given up on banging. Two strong male arms reached down and drew her up and out into the ship’s corridor. Her redheaded friend stood looking on anxiously as the maintenance ensign helped to steady Spring on her feet.

  “How did you know?” she asked the girl, while holding tight to the ensign’s sleeve and bracing against the wall. Her knees still wanted to wobble. Her bare toes cramped as they straightened.

  “When you didn’t return to the compartment, I searched for you everywhere. I even knocked on the door of a mutual friend,” she said, giving Spring a knowing look. “There was just no place else to try. Then, I found this gem next to the trash bin upstairs.” She held out a small glistening bit of quartz in her hand.

  Spring remembered absently placing it in her pocket after finding the healing stone for her friend’s headache.

  “I knew it was part of your collection,” the girl continued. “Since I couldn’t locate you, I asked where the chute led and learned that the disposal unit was in progress. Then I just panicked and notified the maintenance crew. They shut it down, but you weren’t there. So much had already been disintegrated that we were afraid.” She swallowed hard. “But I knew you were resourceful, so we decided to check all the openings on the chance you’d clung on and not fallen the entire way down. I see we were right.”

  “Not exactly. I did go down, but managed to climb out,” Spring said.

  “But sir! That’s impossible. The suction,” the ensign exclaimed.

  Spring was now able to stand on her own two feet again. “Improbable, Ensign, but not impossible, for as you see, I am living proof.”

  “Sir, I do not wish to pry at such a time, but how did this accident occur? These chutes are well beneath head level and must be pushed forcefully to open wide enough for something, someone, as large as yourself to squeeze through. I only wish to avoid any more such, uh, accidents to our passengers, you understand.” He wasn’t buying it.

  Spring drew herself up to full height, wishing for the built-up slickers. “As you say, it was an accident. I dropped something. My jewel, there. Very valuable. I was looking for it, and bending over. I leaned up against the wall. The chute. And well, that’s the way it happened.”

  The ensign still looked dubious. “Sir, that is highly unlikely—”

  “Yes, isn’t it?” she interrupted. “But that’s an accident for you. Don’t worry, Ensign. I have no intentions of pressing charges.” She’d give him something to think about.

  The ensign’s face fell. “Charges, sir?”

  “Why yes. For negligence.”

  “But, but—”

  “No, not at all. Accidents do happen. Why cause innocent parties such as yourself additional hardship?”

  The ensign backed off. He had not considered that turn of events. “Yes, of course. Right you are, sir. Clearly an accident. Thank you, sir.”

  Spring took her friend’s arm and walked quickly away while the ensign was sufficiently grateful for his narrow legal escape. She needed to get private before she collapsed from fatigue and reaction.

  The rest of the voyage seemed destined to pass uneventfully, thanks to Spring’s providential companion. They had yet to exchange names, since Spring could not truthfully reveal hers. They simply referred to each other as Friend.

  There was only one last incident with Elton, which took place in the dining area. Spring was finishing her meal, when he suddenly appeared from nowhere and seated himself beside her without an invitation.

  “May I?” he said, not waiting for the answer.

  Spring was so shocked she could say nothing. Before she had to, however, her watchful friend arrived and seated herself on the other side, placing a possessive arm around Spring’s shoulders. She followed the gesture with a swift kiss to Spring’s cheek.

  “So here you are, my beloved,” cooed the redhead. “I couldn’t bear to stay away a moment longer. What a night we had,” she said, wiggling closely next to Spring. “I can hardly wait for a repeat performance.”

  Spring looked at her friend in amusement. Were she a man, she might have blushed at such a declaration, but as it was, she just wanted to giggle.

  Elton took in the implication as he was meant to. His romantic hopes dashed, he bit his lip and quickly arose. “I regret I have business elsewhere,” he said curtly, departing in a huff. It was all the girls could do to keep from bursting out in laughter while he was still within earshot. Free at last!

  12

  The Visitor

  Herb’s life had proceeded uneventfully. Each day he reported to his father’s firm of Moss and Ivy, Inc. and went through the motions of corporate life, Paradise style. It was as good a job as any, and paid better than most. He would soon have the necessary merrygolds for his union to Lily. The work was not hard, though that may have been partly due to the fact he was the boss’s son, and his immediate supervisor had no desire for complaints. But Herb had no complaints. Not really.

  In the evenings he usually stopped by Lily’s where they would sit in the swinging vine on the veranda or go for long walks down the garden path, observing the subsapient plant life.

  Lily loved the roaring dandelions, tiger lilies, screaming wild flowers, and smoking snap dragons. His own taste ran more to the domestic varieties of dogwoods and pussy willows. They would look them over and speculate which sort of pet they wanted to buy once their union was settled.

  Lily preferred pussy willows, saying they were happy with just a saucer of milkweed, while dogwoods ate too much and were noisy. Herb argued that their bark was worse than their bite, and insisted the first choice should be a puppy plant. Lily gave in as usual, and so it was decided.

  His only diversion from the set routine had been an occasional letter from his secret correspondent, “Moon Maiden.” Secret, because Lily would never understand why he wanted contact with any other female, even on an intellectual level, and he had no wish to hurt her.

  Also, he felt a bit juvenile about the whole thing. Pen pals were for sprouts, not full grown Veganoids. Yet, he had to admit the correspondence had grown increasingly important to him. Only that morning he had received one Special Star Ship Delivery. Unfortunately, he had been in a rush, so tossed it aside for later. Lily had met him at the firm after work and they had eaten dinner at a new place she’d heard about.

  It was pleasant enough with simple fare. He had chosen the breadfruit and honeysuckle, with jumping beans and eggplant. The beans were good, but the devil to keep on the plate.

  Lily had only ordered corn flowers and buttercups, wondering that he could consume so much. She teased Herb about his appetite, saying it would be a full time job feeding him, envisioning herself chained to the garden.

  For dessert, they both had the tapi okra pudding with sugarcane sauce, followed by steaming cups of coffee beans and tea roses. They capped off the evening with a lazy garden walk.

  It was still early when he arrived home, but it had been a full day all the same. All he wanted to do was kick off his shoes, have a drink, and take a nice hot shower. He went into the kitchenette and took down a bottle of distilled water, pouring a small amount into his glass. To that he added a dash of watercress and mint, stirring it with a celery stick. He carried the concoction back into the combined bed and living room, flopped down on the bed and sipped.

  Herb began to wonder. Was this how it was going to be for the rest of his life? First work, then Lily, then bed. Well, after the union it would change a little. First, work. Then home to Lily. Don’t forget the dogwood, man’s best friend. Then bed. Perhaps there would be little seedlings later on, as well. He would never be lonely. Or, would he? Sometimes with girls like Lily who had waited so long, they really had no interest in—no. It wouldn’t be that way at all. Lily wanted a family, and she cared for him. Still—

  “Oh,” Spring squealed, bursting into the room fr
om the shower stall. She hadn’t heard him come in and was attired only in a small towel which now fell to the floor in her surprise.

  Herb was surprised, too. Who was this vision? He knew it must be a vision. She wasn’t even green like a real girl.

  True enough. Spring had used one of her father’s magic keys to gain entrance to Herb’s apartment, and had taken advantage of the bath to wash away the dark stain of her Tyranian disguise. She stood revealed for the moment in her natural color. She had come out of the shower to towel dry her long hair, when she discovered the apartment was now occupied.

  Herb could not avert his eyes from the lovely intruder. She was certainly well grown, and her skin was as soft and pale as a moon. Moon Maiden. Now he recognized her from the photosynthegraph she’d sent. Of course, he had not been privileged to view as much as of her then as now. He might have recognized her more rapidly if his eyes had made their way up to the region of her face sooner, but they had had difficulty getting past the intervening terrain.

  Spring had regained her composure and grabbed up the towel, blushing with a slight pinkish tinge that Herb found delightful.

  “Moon Maiden?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She wrapped the towel tighter and backed toward a chair. As her upper calf struck the edge, she lost her balance, sitting down abruptly. The action caused the towel to slide from the upper portion of her torso. Herb’s eyes lost their purchase on her face and got lost again amidst the marvelous hills and valleys below.

  Spring retrieved the errant towel, this time tucking it securely. “Peeping Tom,” she accused him.

  “No, my name is Herb.”

  “I meant, you didn’t have to stare that way. Haven’t you ever seen a naked girl before?”

  “No. I mean, not like you. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with—I’m sorry. Uh, why are you here?”

  “I wrote you a letter,” she exclaimed, squirming in the chair, trying to keep everything concealed, with delightfully imperfect success.

  “Oh. Yes.” The letter he had not opened. He found it on a table and ripped it open, reading swiftly. “Yes,” he nodded. “It says you will arrive for a visit. In three months.”

  “Oh. Well, there was a slight change in my itinerary. I hope you don’t mind too much?” she asked, still struggling with the unruly towel.

  “Well—” He hesitated, distracted yet again by the towel. Or whatever. Herb hadn’t even thought of such a thing happening. Writing was one thing, but a strange girl here in the flesh—and what flesh it was!

  Spring noticed his reticence, but she wasn’t ready to be kicked out into the streets yet. She allowed the towel to slip down just a bit more.

  The subtle gesture had its effect. “That is, of course I don’t mind. And if you don’t mind my asking, how did you get in here?”

  “Oh. That. You must have forgotten to lock up,” she said with wide-eyed innocence acquired from dealing with Elton. “I just walked in. It was a long trip. I didn’t think you’d mind if I had a shower?”

  Herb made a note to double check that lock in the future. “I, uh—” It was so hard to focus on anything other than that slowly sliding towel.

  “So, Herb. I hope I didn’t come at a bad time? Do you mind if I rest here a bit until I can find somewhere to stay?”

  “No.”

  “No?” she repeated, disappointed. Drastic times called for drastic measures. She dropped the towel.

  “I meant, no, I don’t mind at all,” Herb said, putting his eyeballs back in their sockets. She was amazingly clumsy, but he liked that in a woman. “Would you care for a nap? I only have this room, and the kitchen, and the shower.”

  Spring sighed with relief, retrieving the towel. “That would be wonderful. I’ll just go slip into a robe now.”

  Herb watched as she minced out into the shower stall. She must have put her belongings in there. Moon Maiden in his apartment. She was even more lovely in person, he thought, recalling those quick, illicit glimpses.

  She returned in only a moment, having dried her hair with a towel. It tumbled in a golden brown profusion over her shoulders, and she had changed into a robe of clinging material in a pale pink shade that complemented her fair complexion.

  “Herb,” she began uncertainly. She badly needed a place of refuge, but had done a bit of flirting in her letters and now after that towel business, well . . . She didn’t want to risk him becoming overly attentive while she was vulnerable. He was probably very nice, but after all, he was a man. It was possible he could be anticipating more than she was willing to offer for a night’s lodging.

  “Yes, Moon Maiden?”

  “Herb, I feel as if we are friends. I must tell you up front, so you won’t think there can ever be more than friendship between us, that there was someone else very close to me. He, uh, lied to me, and now we are separated, but I still think of him. So I’m not ready for another attachment yet, and I can’t fully trust another man because of that. Do you see? I hope you do.” She paused to see how he was taking it.

  She had thought it would be safe enough with a plant man, but he wasn’t that different from a human. If she had seen his photo, she might not have come. He was not only human looking, but darn good-looking, human or otherwise, and his reactions were exactly typical of a garden-variety human male. “Herb, you don’t look the way I expected,” she said accusingly.

  “You are disappointed? But I sent a photosynthegraph,” he said, taken aback by this declaration.

  “I didn’t receive it. Either it was lost or you forgot to put it in. I don’t know. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. You look very attractive. I was just expecting someone more—more bushy.”

  “A Vinese,” Herb agreed. “They look like bushes. We have Treeples here, too. They look like trees. But Veganoids are the most human. There are differences.”

  “And I want to know everything for my thesis. And of course, about your planet as well,” she added.

  Herb brightened. “I will be glad to help. But, is something bothering you? You seem agitated.”

  “I just wasn’t expecting to have to worry about us. Herb, I can’t sleep with you.”

  “Oh. You thought when I asked you to have a nap—?” Herb blushed. “No, I just thought you might be exhausted.”

  “I’m sorry. I misunderstood. It’s just that, the other man, I haven’t gotten over him, and all his lies. Lies. Trust is everything in a relationship, don’t you agree?”

  And that was all lies, naturally. She wasn’t carrying a torch for anyone. As long as she carried that dreadful secret, she could never allow herself to care for anyone that way. Whoever she touched would become another target for Zygote.

  But she couldn’t spend the rest of her life running, either. It was time to make a stand. She hadn’t figured out how to do that yet, but with some time to think, perhaps she could ensnare Zygote in his own trap. He might be a magician, but she was a magician’s daughter and that magician was a hundred times the caliber of Zygote. Why else would he try to steal from her father? Now the thief was a murderer as well. But he would pay.

  Herb mistook the anguish on her face for the pain of losing her human lover. There was no misreading heartache.

  Spring climbed upon the water bed and settled down on one side. “Oh. Where will you sleep?”

  “Sleep? Oh no, I’m a night person. You rest. I have some, uh, reading to do.” He only had to be up at the crack of dawn, after all.

  Spring shut her eyes, and relaxed. Herb strode awkwardly over to the only chair in the small room and settled down, reaching for the letter again. Why had she decided to pay a visit if she had no interest in encouraging a romance? Not that he could afford to be encouraged. There was Lily. Still, not even to be considered? Male pride was not easily put to rest.

  He found the answer on page two. “Your letters have made Paradise come alive for me, Herb, with your wonderful descriptions of the plant life there, not to mention the chance of meeting someone as nice as you. I have so
me time and have decided to work up my thesis there. I know this will assure me a confirmed place at the Jupiter Science Institute next year.”

  Nothing strange about that. Paradise would be a botanist’s dream to study. Naturally, he would have wanted to meet her, and been glad to find accommodations for her.

  Accommodations. He checked the time. It was too late to hunt for a room tonight even if they left immediately.

  He looked toward the bed. She was sound asleep. It would be a shame to waken her. What the harm if she stayed the night? He could sit in a chair for a few hours. Not the most comfortable way to spend a restful night, but the only sensible solution. She would sleep right through, poor girl. She looked totally exhausted. He went over and pulled the light coverlet over her exposed limbs. Much as he enjoyed viewing them, he didn’t want her to catch a chill.

  Herb then went quietly about preparing for the night, taking a quick shower and returning in a loose robe. He clicked out the flowerbulb and settled back in the darkness. It wasn’t all that bad. In the morning he could give her directions to a nearby boarding home or two. So few visitors came to Paradise that they didn’t have conventional rooming for vacationers, but certain families would provide accommodations for a small fee. He would explain all that to her in the morning.

  The light from the tri-moons shown through the window, casting a beam across the bed where Spring lay. She was quite lovely, Herb thought. He would show her the Crystal Gardens. She would love that because of her interest in such stones.

  Perhaps they could go to the Sandal Woods. They could lie beneath the sunflowers enjoying a pinecream cone. Maybe she would wear that fetching bathing suit she wore in the photosynthe-graph? And they said daisies don’t tell!

  What was he thinking of? Naturally he would be helpful, but she was not there for his enjoyment. He could not squire her about town. What would Lily think? He must think of something to do about all that in the morning, though. He was very tired now.