Legacy

by James H. Schmitz

  Produced by Greg Weeks, Joel Schlosberg and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcriber's note:

  Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the United Statescopyright on this publication was renewed.

  LEGACY

  BY JAMES H. SCHMITZ

  AUTHOR OF _THE WITCHES OF KARRES_

  (ORIG. TITLE: A TALE OF TWO CLOCKS)

  MEET TRIGGER ARGEE....

  Half a block from the shopping center, a row of spacers on planet-leavecame rollicking cheerily toward her.... Trigger shifted toward the edgeof the sidewalk to let them pass. As the line swayed up on her left,there was a shadowy settling of an aircar at the curb to her right.

  With loud outcries of glad recognition and whoops of laughter, the lineswung in about her, close. Bodies crowded against her, a hand wasclapped over her mouth. Other hands held her arms. Her feet came off theground and she had a momentary awareness of being rushed expertlyforward.

  There was a lurching twist as the aircar shot upward.

  SHE'S ABOUT TO ENTER THE MYSTERY OF HER LIFE, IN

  Legacy

  * * * * *

  _Also by James H. Schmitz_

  THE DEMON BREEDTHE UNIVERSE AGAINST HER

  ACESCIENCEFICTION

  * * * * *

  Legacy

  JAMES H. SCHMITZ

  SF

  ace books

  A Division of Charter Communications Inc.A GROSSET & DUNLAP COMPANY360 Park Avenue SouthNew York, New York 10010

  LEGACY

  Originally published asA TALE OF TWO CLOCKS

  An ACE Book

  _Cover art by Bob Adragna_

  First Ace printing: May 1979

  Printed in U.S.A

  * * * * *

  This book is dedicated affectionatelyto my father

  * * * * *

  1

  It was the time of sunrise in Ceyce, the White City, placidly beautifulcapital of Maccadon, the University World of the Hub.

  In the Colonial School's sprawling five-mile complex of buildings andtropical parks, the second student shift was headed for breakfast, whilea larger part of the fourth shift moved at a more leisurely rate towardtheir bunks. The school's organized activities were not much affected bythe hour, but the big exercise quadrangle was almost deserted for once.Behind the railing of the firing range a young woman stood by herself,gun in hand, waiting for the automatic range monitor to select a newstring of targets for release.

  She was around twenty-four, slim and trim in the school's comfortablehiking outfit. Tan shirt and knee-length shorts, knee stockings,soft-soled shoes. Her sun hat hung on the railing, and the dawn windwhipped strands of shoulder-length, modishly white-silver hair along hercheeks. She held a small, beautifully worked handgun loosely besideher--the twin-barrelled sporting Denton which gunwise citizens of theHub rated as a weapon for the precisionist and expert only. Ininstitutions like the Colonial School it wasn't often seen.

  At the exact instant the monitor released its new flight of targets, shebecame aware of the aircar gliding down toward her from theadministration buildings on the right. Startled, she glanced sidewayslong enough to identify the car's two occupants, shifted her attentionback to the cluster of targets speeding toward her, studied the flightpattern for another unhurried half-second, finally raised the Denton.The little gun spat its noiseless, invisible needle of destruction eighttimes. Six small puffs of crimson smoke hung in the air. The tworemaining targets swerved up in a mocking curve and shot back to theirdischarge huts.

  The girl bit her lip in moderate annoyance, safetied and holstered thegun and waved her hand left-right at the range attendant to indicate shewas finished. Then she turned to face the aircar as it settled slowly tothe ground twenty feet away. Her gray eyes studied its occupantscritically.

  "Fine example you set the students!" she remarked. "Flying right into ahot gun range!"

  Doctor Plemponi, principal of the Colonial School, smiled soothingly."Eight years ago, your father bawled me out for the very same thing,Trigger! Much more abusively, I must say. You know that was my firstmeeting with old Runser Argee, and I--"

  "Plemp!" Mihul, Chief of Physical Conditioning, Women's Division,cautioned sharply from the seat behind him. "Watch what you're doing,you ass!"

  Confused, Doctor Plemponi turned to look at her. The aircar dropped thelast four feet to a jolting landing. Mihul groaned. Plemponi apologized.Trigger walked over to them.

  "Does he do that often?" she asked interestedly.

  "Every other time!" Mihul asserted. She was a tall, lean, muscular slabof a woman, around forty. She gave Trigger a wink behind Plemponi'sback. "We keep the chiropractors on stand-by duty when we go riding withPlemp."

  "Now then! Now then!" Doctor Plemponi said. "You distracted my attentionfor a moment, that's all. Now, Trigger, the reason we're here is thatMihul told me at our prebreakfast conference you weren't entirely happyat the good old Colonial School. So climb in, if you don't have muchelse to do, and we'll run up to the office and discuss it." He openedthe door for her.

  "Much else to do!" Trigger gave him a look. "All right, Doctor. We'llrun up and discuss it."

  She went back for her sun hat, climbed in, closed the door and sat downbeside him, shoving the holstered Denton forward on her thigh.

  Plemponi eyed the gun dubiously. "Brushing up in case there's anothergrabber raid?" he inquired. He reached out for the guide stick.

  Trigger shook her head. "Just working off hostility, I guess." Shewaited till he had lifted the car off the ground in a reckless swoop."That business yesterday--it really was a grabber raid?"

  "We're almost sure it was," Mihul said behind her, "though I did hearsome talk they might have been after those two top-secret plasmoids inyour Project."

  "_That's_ not very likely," Trigger remarked. "The raiders were a halfmile away from where they should have come down if the plasmoids werewhat they wanted. And from what I saw of them, they weren't nearly a bigenough gang for a job of that kind."

  "I thought so, too," Mihul said. "They were topflight professionals, inany case. I got a glimpse of some of their equipment. Knockoutguns--foggers--and that was a fast car!"

  "Very fast car," Trigger agreed. "It's what made me suspicious when Ifirst saw them come in."

  "They also," said Mihul, "had a high-speed interplanetary hopper waitingfor them in the hills. Two more men in it. The cops caught them, too."She added, "They were grabbers, all right!"

  "Anything to indicate whom they were after?" Trigger asked.

  "No," Mihul said. "Too many possibilities. Twenty or more of thestudents in that area at the time had important enough connections toclass as grabber bait. The cops won't talk except to admit they weretipped off about the raid. Which was obvious. The way they popped up outof nowhere and closed in on those boys was a beautiful sight to see!"

  "I," Trigger admitted, "didn't see it. When that car homed in, I yelleda warning to the nearest bunch of students and dropped flat behind arock. By the time I risked a look, the cops had them."

  "You showed very good sense," Plemponi told her earnestly. "I hope theyburn those thugs! Grabbing's a filthy business."

  "That large object coming straight at you," Mihul observed calmly, "isanother aircar. In this lane it has the right of way. You do not havethe right of way. Got all that, Plemp?"

  "Are you sure?" Doctor Plemponi asked her bewilderedly. "Confound it! Ishall blow my siren."

  He did. Trigger winced. "There!" Plemponi said triumphantly as the otherdriver veered off in fright.

  Trigger told herself to relax. Aircars were so nearly accident-proofthat even Plemponi couldn't do
more than snarl up traffic in one. "Havethere been other raids in the school area since I left?" she asked, ashe shot up out of the quadrangle and turned toward the balcony of hisoffice.

  "That was just under four years ago, wasn't it?" Mihul said. "No, youwere still with us when we had the last one.... Six years back.Remember?"

  Trigger did. Two students had been picked up on that occasion--sons ofsome Federation official. The grabbers had made a clean getaway, and ithad been several months later before she heard the boys had beenredeemed safely.

  Plemponi descended to a teetery but gentle landing on the officebalcony. He gave Trigger a self-satisfied look. "See?" he said tersely."Let's go in, ladies. Had breakfast yet, Trigger?"

  Trigger had finished breakfast a half-hour earlier, but she accepted acup of coffee. Mihul, all athlete, declined. She went over to Plemponi'sdesk and stood leaning against it, arms folded across her chest, calmblue eyes fixed thoughtfully on Trigger. With her lithe length of body,Mihul sometimes reminded Trigger of a ferret, but the tanned face was apleasant one and there was humor around the mouth. Even in Trigger'spregraduate days, she and Mihul had been good friends.

  Doctor Plemponi removed a crammed breakfast tray from a wall chef, tooka chair across from Trigger, sat down with the tray on his knees,excused himself, and began to eat and talk simultaneously.

  "Before we go into that very reasonable complaint you made to Mihulyesterday," he said, "I wish you'd let me point out a few things."

  Trigger nodded. "Please do."

  "You, Trigger," Plemponi told her, "are an honored guest here at theColonial School. You're the daughter of our late friend and colleagueRunser Argee. You were one of our star pupils--not just as a small-armsmedallist either. And now you're the secretary and assistant of thefamous Precolonial Commissioner Holati Tate--which makes you almost aparticipant in what may well turn out to be the greatest scientificevent of the century.... I'm referring, of course," Plemponi added, "toTate's discovery of the Old Galactic plasmoids."

  "Of course," agreed Trigger. "And what is all this leading up to,Plemp?"

  He waved a piece of toast at her. "No. Don't interrupt! I still have topoint out that because of the exceptional managerial abilities yourevealed under Tate, you've been sent here on detached duty for thePrecolonial Department to aid the Commissioner and Professor Mantelishin the University League's Plasmoid Project. That means you're a prettyimportant person, Trigger! Mantelish, for all his idiosyncrasies, isundoubtedly the greatest living biologist in the League. And thePlasmoid Project here at the school is without question the League'smost important current undertaking."

  "So I've been told," said Trigger. "That's why I want to find out what'sgone haywire with it."

  "In a moment," Plemponi said. "In a moment." He located his napkin,wiped his lips carefully. "Now I've mentioned all this simply to make itvery, very clear that we'll do anything we can to keep you satisfied.We're delighted to have you with us. We are honored!" He beamed at her."Right?"

  Trigger smiled. "If you say so. And thanks very much for all the lovelycompliments, Doctor. But now let's get down to business."

  Plemponi glanced over at Mihul and looked evasive. "That being?" heasked.

  "You know," Trigger said. "But I'll put it into specific questions ifyou like. Where's Commissioner Tate?"

  "I don't know."

  "Where is Mantelish?"

  He shook his head. "I don't know that either." He began to look unhappy.

  "Oh?" said Trigger. "Who does know then?"

  "I'm not allowed to tell you," Doctor Plemponi said firmly.

  Trigger raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

  "Federation security," Plemponi said, frowning. He added, "I wasn'tsupposed to tell you that either, but what could I do?"

  "Federation security? Because of the plasmoids?"

  "Yes.... Well.... I'd--I don't know."

  Trigger sighed. "Is it just me you're not supposed to tell these thingsto?"

  "No, no, no," Plemponi said hastily. "Nobody. I'm not supposed to admitto anyone that I know anything of the whereabouts of Holati Tate orProfessor Mantelish."

  "Fibber!" Trigger said quietly. "So you know!"

  Plemponi looked appealingly at Mihul. She was grinning. "My lips aresealed, Trigger! I can't help it. Please believe me."

  "Let _me_ sum it up then," Trigger said, tapping the arm of her chairwith a finger tip. "Eight weeks ago I get pulled off my job in the ManonSystem and sent here to arrange the organizational details of thisPlasmoid Project. The only reason I took on the job, as a temporaryassignment, was that Commissioner Tate convinced me it was important tohim to have me do it. I even let him talk me into doing it under theassumed name of Ruya Farn and"--she reached up and touched the side ofher head--"and to dye my hair. For no sane reason that I could discover!He said the U-League had requested it."

  Doctor Plemponi coughed. "Well, you know, Trigger, how sensitive theLeague is to personal notoriety."

  The eyebrow went up again. "Notoriety?"

  "Not in the wrong sense!" Plemponi said hastily. "But your name _has_become much more widely known than you may believe. The news viewersmentioned you regularly in their reports on Harvest Moon and theCommissioner. Didn't they, Mihul?"

  Mihul nodded. "You made good copy, kid! We saw you in the solidopics anynumber of times."

  "Well, maybe," Trigger said. "The cloak and dagger touches still don'tmake much sense to me. But let's forget them and go on.

  "When we get here, I manage to see Mantelish just once to try to findout what his requirements will be. He's pretty vague about them.Commissioner Tate is in and out of the Project--usually out. He's alsoturned pretty vague. About everything. Three weeks ago today I'm toldhe's gone. Nobody here can, or will, tell me where he's gone or how hecan be contacted. The same thing in the Maccadon Precol office. Samething at the Evalee Home office. Same thing at the U-League--anyoffice. Then I try to contact Mantelish. I'm informed he's with Tate!The two of them have left word I'm to carry on."

  She spread her hands. "Carry on with what? I've done all I can do untilI get further instructions from the people supposedly directing thissupposedly very urgent and important project! Mantelish doesn't evenseem to have a second in command...."

  Plemponi nodded. "I was told he hadn't selected his Project assistantsyet."

  "Except," said Trigger, "for that little flock of Junior Scientists whokeep themselves locked in with the plasmoids. They know less thannothing and would be too scared to tell me that if I asked them."

  Plemponi looked confused for a moment. "The last sentence--" He checkedhimself. "Well, let's not quibble. Go on."

  Trigger said, "That's it. Holati didn't need me on this job to beginwith. There's nothing involved about the organizational aspects. Unlesssomething begins to happen--and rather soon--there's no excuse for me tostay here."

  "Couldn't you," Plemponi suggested, "regard this as a kind ofwell-earned little vacation?"

  "I've tried to regard it as that. Holati impressed on me that one of ushad to remain in the area of the Project at all times, so I haven't evenbeen able to leave the school grounds. I've caught up with my reading,and Mihul has put me through two of her tune-up commando courses. Butthe point is that I'm not on vacation. I don't believe Precol would feelthat any of my present activities come under the heading of detachedduty work!"

  There was a short silence. Plemponi stared down at his empty tray, said,"Excuse me," got up and walked over to the wall chef with the tray.

  "Wrong slot," Trigger told him.

  He looked back. "Eh?"

  "You want to put it in the disposal, don't you?"

  "Thanks," Plemponi said absently. "Always doing that. Confusingthem...." He dropped the tray where it belonged, shoved his hands intothe chef's cleaning recess and waved them around, then came back, stilllooking absent-minded, and stopped before Trigger's chair. He studiedher face for a moment.

  "Commissioner Tate gave me a message for you," he said suddenly.<
br />
  Trigger's eyes narrowed slightly. "When?"

  "The day after he left." Plemponi lifted a hand. "Now wait! You'll seehow it was. He called in and said, and I quote, 'Plemp, you don't standmuch of a chance at keeping secrets from Trigger, so I'll give you nounnecessary secrets to keep. If this business we're on won't let us getback to the Project in the next couple of weeks, she'll get mightyrestless. When she starts to complain--but no earlier--just tell herthere are reasons why I can't contact her at present, or let her knowwhat I'm doing, and that I _will_ contact her as soon as I possiblycan.' End of quote."

  "That was all?" asked Trigger.

  "Yes."

  "He didn't say a thing about how long this situation might continue?"

  "No. I've given you the message word for word. My memory is excellent,Trigger."

  "So it could be more weeks? Or months?"

  "Yes. Possibly. I imagine...." Plemponi had begun to perspire.

  "Plemp," said Trigger, "will you give Holati a message from me?"

  "Gladly!" said Plemponi. "What--oh, oh!" He flushed.

  "Right," said Trigger. "You can contact him. I thought so."

  Doctor Plemponi looked reproachful. "That was unfair, Trigger! You'requick-witted."

  Trigger shrugged. "I can't see any justification for all this mystery,that's all." She stood up. "Anyway, here's the message. Tell him thatunless somebody--rather promptly--gives me a good sane reason forhanging around here, I'll ask Precol to transfer me back to the Manonjob."

  Plemponi tut-tutted gloomily. "Trigger," he said, "I'll do my best aboutthe message. But otherwise--"

  She smiled nicely at him. "I know," she said, "your lips are sealed.Sorry if I've disturbed you, Plemp. But I'm just a Precol employee,after all. If I'm to waste their time, I'd like to know at least whyit's necessary."

  Plemponi watched her walk out of the room and off down the adjoininghall. In his face consternation struggled with approval.

  "Lovely little figure, hasn't she?" he said to Mihul. He made vaguecurving motions in the air with one hand, more or less opposing oneswith the other. "That sort of an up-and-sideways lilt when she walks."

  "Uh-huh," said Mihul. "Old goats."

  "Eh?" said Doctor Plemponi.

  "I overheard you discussing Trigger's lilt with Mantelish."

  Plemponi sat down at his desk. "You shouldn't eavesdrop, Mihul," he saidseverely. "I'd better get that message promptly to Tate, I suppose. Shemeant what she said, don't you think?"

  "Every bit of it," said Mihul.

  "Tate warned me she might get very difficult about this time. She's tooconscientious, I feel."

  "She also," said Mihul, "has a boy friend in the Manon System. They'vebeen palsy ever since they went through the school here together."

  "Ought to get married then," Plemponi said. He shuddered. "My blood runscold every time I think of how close those grabbers got to heryesterday!"

  Mihul shrugged. "Relax! They never had a chance. The characters Tate hasguarding her are the fastest-moving squad I ever saw go into action."

  "That," Plemponi said reflectively, "doesn't sound much like ourMaccadon police."

  "I don't think they are. Imported talent of some kind, for my money.Anyway, if someone wants to pick up Trigger Argee here, he'd better comein with a battleship."

  Plemponi glanced nervously across the balcony at the cloudless blue skyabout the quadrangle.

  "The impression I got from Holati Tate," he said, "is that somebodymight."