“Patience, this is John Graham, also known as Zhexp, and your father, Arthur Saunders. Arthur and John, this is Patience.” John remained absolutely still. Patience had never met a human male before, and now she saw two. She glanced at John, but her gaze fixed on Arthur. No one moved. Arthur stared at Patience, his computations forgotten. Finally Patience asked, “What did they do to me?”
“They made it so you have no community,” Natalie said. “It’s too late for you to completely adjust to being human, and you will never be completely accepted by the Plict.”
“Oh, that.”
John believed in honesty, but this seemed incredibly blunt. Arthur gave Natalie a troubled glance. Natalie defended herself. “Patience is going to have enough difficulty in life without being lied to. She understands the situation, including the fact that someday the Plict may just kill us both to cover up our kidnapping. Patience, we’re going to try to escape, but we’re not sure we can make it. I want you to go to your room and pick up a few things you value and bring them out. Plan three.” Patience abruptly went down a hall, apparently knowing what “plan three” meant.
“You obviously have food,” John said. “Do you have things we could carry on the ship? I don’t know when we’ll be able to get Earth food.”
“Yes. Why don’t you help Patience while Arthur and I decide what to take.” Natalie looked at Arthur in exasperation before leaving the room. He obviously wasn’t ready to leave his calculations. John headed the direction Patience went and found her dragging what appeared to be a sheet full of things. “Do you need any help?” he asked her in Vigintees.
“Yes. It’s heavier than I thought.”
“It didn’t take you long to decide what to take,” John said, curious at her speed and efficiency.
“Mom does drills. She said we might have no time, and I’d have to make a decision fast. We mainly did level one and level two, though.”
“What does plan three mean? Are there plans one and two?” John asked, while picking up the sheet. They went outside, keeping to the path hidden by pines.
“For plan three, I have five minutes to decide. Plan two, I have two minutes, and it has to be light enough to carry easily. Plan one, well, that means drop everything and come, even if I’m not dressed.” They stowed the stuff onboard the ship. Patience resorted things, putting certain items in a backpack and pockets, leaving others loose.
John indicated the backpack and asked, “Plan two?”
Patience smiled and said, “Yes. Although I’m supposed to carry food too. I’m always supposed to have some in my pockets.”
Natalie and Arthur came burdened with food. After putting her load in the ship, Natalie went to a small outbuilding and opened the door. Cautiously, a few chickens came out. More followed, and they headed into the garden with its bounty of fresh food. “John, there’s sort of a cellar. I’ve put a pile on the floor. . .”
“Of course,” John replied.
The cellar had shelves of food in bags, but several bags were on the floor. He picked up a large bag of dried beans, another labeled sundried tomatoes, and a third labeled dried chicken. They were awkward to carry, but he decided he could take another trip to get the bags whose labels he hadn’t read. Returning outside, he found his way was blocked by three mouthed Plict.
I only need to delay them, he thought. The others can get away. He just stood there, holding the food, but suddenly realized they couldn’t get away. Arthur might be able to fly the ship with the computer functioning, but they didn’t dare turn it on. Linda’s virus, which allowed them to escape, would get them captured.
All three of the Plicts pointed weapons at him. John couldn’t see if the others were in the ship. John stood there while one turned and walked toward the ship, stopping at the edge of the pines. Natalie said earlier that the Plict wouldn’t go there, but he didn’t understand why. Arthur came out of the ship, but didn’t leave the pines. Where were Natalie and Patience? He couldn’t see them. John could see Arthur looked frightened, yet determined.
John wanted something that would attract their attention away from the humans and toward another goal. These Plict were part of a conspiracy to live without Buds. Whatever else their motivation, they would not be happy about what the Buds on the bird sanctuary were doing.
“We have news of a Bud conspiracy,” John said. “They’re faking their deaths and hiding. Two of them came to check out this place a few days ago. They have a recording of a mouthed Plict in a mask to make him look like a Bud.” The Plict reaction was enough to suggest that they were interested.
“This is Arthur Saunders, who did some calculations about Buds keeping your kind prisoners and forcing them to Bud.”
“You’re inventing this,” said one of the Plict.
“You’ll find a tablet inside,” Arthur said.
The Plict that spoke gestured to one of the other Plict. John was amused to note that mouthed Plict used gestures too. The Plict went inside and came out with a tablet. “It says nine.”
“Nine Plict being held?” asked the one John considered the leader.
“Nine conspiracies to hold them,” Arthur said firmly. John could see Arthur was in control of his fear, and even enjoying passing off his spurious calculations as real science. “You can see I used the numbers of the total reported Plict population and the total Bud population, adjusted for the hidden Buds. Also, there is at least one more major Bud conspiracy on a larger scale than the one that visited you.”
The Plict holding the tablet said, “I see those numbers, but I don’t understand the calculations.”
“It doesn’t matter if you do. Maybe you have someone who can in Aipot.” It sounded like Arthur doubted they could. “I am a Plict citizen and have come to collect my wife and child, who are also Plict citizens.”
“You’re no Plict,” said the leader.
“I am officially a mouthed Plict citizen. John, carry the food into the ship.” John realized that Arthur was giving him an order as if he were Plict, ordering a human from Vigint City. “I was given all the rights of citizenship, as was my family. My wife is on the ship, whose computer was never on during the computer problems, so she’ll be able to send out a message detailing their kidnapping long before you can storm the ship. I admit that the message may not be read for some time, due to the computer problems, but someone will read it. You can’t erase that you held her here, even if you kill us all.”
John walked toward the ship, carrying the food. All the weapons turned on him, but he kept going.
“You are bluffing,” said the leader. “You may be a citizen, but she isn’t, and neither is her child.”
“My wife and my child are citizens. I made sure of that.” Arthur’s voice was confident and contemptuous. Arthur’s confidence was no longer an act.
Before John reached the ship, Patience came through a gate, leading a goat. Several goats followed her and headed for the garden. John handed the food to Natalie on board the ship. On a hunch, John tossed several pine branches into the ship. John lifted the goat onto the ship, and was rewarded by a smile from Patience. They boarded and took off without further incident.
“What’s this about citizenship?” asked John as he headed south along the coast. The Vigintees compound should easily be visible from the air.
“A special law was passed,” Arthur said. “I insisted on it before I would spend a lot of time here. Actually, it was your suggestion.” John didn’t remember, of course. “I was given special status, a citizen who couldn’t be tried for laws he was unfamiliar with, and could leave at any time, and so was my family. If I remember the wording correctly, that would include Patience.”
“Why didn’t you tell the Buds?” John asked.
“I thought they would just kill me.”
That seemed like a good reason.
Since they were looking for an island, not a coastal community, they flew a few miles out to sea. John paid attention to the route while Natalie and Arthur talked.
�
�Why don’t they go near the pines?” Arthur asked Natalie.
“Most Plict are allergic to pine. The mouthed Plict usually get a stopped-up blowhole.”
“Which would kill a Plict without a mouth,” Arthur said thoughtfully.
“They were rather excited about it at first,” Natalie continued. “They thought they could plant a few of them in pots around town, and keep buds away. They even did some genetic engineering to make the trees grow much faster, but they found them too irritating for any Plict.”
The information about the pines was a useful explanation, but they needed some way of finding the wormhole. John gave Natalie and Arthur brief lessons in flying the ship while going toward the island. “I might be able to find the wormhole without the computer, but I’m not sure. I think there are some kind of beacons, which are computer controlled. If I’m not here, get well away from the planet before turning on the computer.” He wasn’t sure that would work.
John paid attention to the route while Arthur did something with the pine branches. All the while, Arthur and Natalie talked. Arthur answered her eager questions about Linda and Tom. When they landed on the spit of land near the door to the basement, Arthur handed him his water bottle and belt holder, which still had water in it, but was now stuffed with pine needles as well. When John hesitated to take it, Arthur said, “It’s not a weapon until you open the bottle. Possibly not even then, because they may have to breathe in the fumes. It should be safe until then.”
John could be relatively anonymous in Vigint City, but the others couldn’t. John’s clothing would blend in, and between the epidemic and the computer problems, he might be able to sneak in and free Linda and the others. Natalie took string from a sack of beans and fashioned a rough belt for him. John tied the belt onto his waist with the water bottle in Arthur’s carrying case, and headed for the door to the basement.
*
* *
Linda was brought through relatively empty corridors, and it wasn’t hard to guess that many of those she saw were recovered flu patients. The pace in the corridors was slower and the people she saw didn’t have the freedom of motion of people who spent hours exercising every day. They took Linda into what looked like a private room, but instead of being an apartment, it was clearly a waiting room, with chairs lining the walls. There were three children about two years old and five adults. One child was playing in a small playroom, but two others were held by their mothers. Linda was no expert, but one looked like he had the flu. The other’s face was buried in his mother’s shoulder. She wondered why they were allowing the flu to be spread by this gathering.
Hernandez led her to the end of the room, saying, “Linda Saunders. She’s expected.”
“Yes. Send her in,” the receptionist replied.
“But we should go with her,” one of the clones protested.
“Jorxt is expecting us,” Hernandez said.
“I was told to send her in,” the receptionist said. “I wasn’t told to send you in.”
Linda wasn’t certain who Jorxt was, but she didn’t want to be with Hernandez. When the door was opened, she walked in quickly.
There was a large room with a number of doors off of it and no mirrors. No cameras here, she thought. Although the ceiling was unnaturally low, the room didn’t have the cramped feeling of the other rooms in this city. She knew the being about ten feet in front of her was a Plict. In her computer search, she saw many pictures of them, which allowed her to identify this as a Bud. He gestured for her to follow and she did.
They passed a room with a naked two-year old human with two Plict leaning over him. The child appeared to be sedated. She paused to watch, and a voice came from behind her.
“Treatment,” he said. “All two year olds are treated. They are sterilized. Sperm and ovaries are harvested later if needed.” It was a Plict with a mouth. “I’m Saxant, by the way.”
Saxant was about one and a half times as massive as the Bud, but no taller. He wore a loose, bright green garment that bore more of a resemblance to a sari than to any other Earth garment. It was decorated with purple leaf-like structures. The Bud wore one-piece black clothing. Linda couldn’t see how it could be removed.
“There were adults without children in the waiting room.”
“Adults are looked over every twelve years. Sometimes we make minor modifications. You met someone who had them. Reidar, who gave you the translation disk, was too tall for the ceiling. His legs were operated on to remove some bone, taking off about four inches of height. His genome won’t be used in future generations.”
Linda asked. “Did he recover from the flu?” Not that she felt any attachment to him, but it seemed a reasonable question.
“No. Neither did John Graham’s ex-wife, Katrine. I think you were told about Baldur, but you didn’t meet anyone else who died.” Linda didn’t feel sorry that Katrine died, remembering her treatment of Cara, but wondered if John would be upset.
“You know that because we’ve been watched constantly?” Linda asked.
“Except when it was too dark to see you or when you covered our cameras,” Saxant responded.
“Who is watching us?” Linda was still annoyed with herself for covering the cameras.
“You have quite a following. There are millions of us watching you, Wilson, and Cara. You are a very profitable show.“
“Why?”
“Wouldn’t you watch us? The Vigintees are getting boring to us. We know what they do and how they’ll act. Your group is more interesting. There were numerous bets placed on what you would do, but I don’t think anyone anticipated you would bring down our computer system.”
“You brought down ours first.”
“I know, which is an excellent defense.”
“No it isn’t,” said another Plict who just entered the room from one of the many doors.
“This is Jorxt,” said Saxant. “He’s angry with you because the virus went through his computer and many are blaming him.”
Jorxt was thinner than Saxant, and wore a form-fitting pink garment that matched his eyes.
“She has to fix it,” Jorxt said. “They’re blaming me, but it went through dozens of other computers after it went through mine. They’re just as much to blame.” Linda didn’t know how to determine if Jorxt was angry, frightened, or just irritated from his voice or manner, but she guessed that one of those emotions applied. “It was humans who temporarily stopped your computers, and they didn’t hurt the computers, just the connections between them. How could you do something so destructive?”
She remained silent, doubting he really wanted an answer to that question.
“You must fix it,” insisted Jorxt.
“Can you fix it?” asked Saxant.
“I’m not sure.” There was a possibility. She would use a virus-killing virus, but it would have to replicate itself, but not too virulently, or else it would become a problem in itself. It would have to find the code and neutralize it. Connections would have to be up for it to do so. But it would leave huge gaps in the code on the original computers. But being able to fix it was not the point. “Why should I?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.
Linda didn’t understand the contortions that appeared on Jorxt’s face, but it looked like an extreme emotion. Saxant explained, “Jorxt is very unhappy with you, and furthermore, he’s unhappy that you aren’t obeying him instantly. He’s forgotten that you weren’t genetically engineered to worship him.”
Jorxt left abruptly, and Saxant offered her a chair and a beverage. “Don’t worry, it’s human food,” he said. It tasted rather weirdly of strawberries and onions, which was an odd combination, but still more interesting than the food previously available.
“Jorxt is not your friend,” Saxant said. Linda considered the comment wasn’t informative, but she was willing to go along.
“And you are?”
“To a degree. I’m not happy about how you’ve been treated, but my loyalties are with my species. I think we need
you, however.”
“Why?” She appreciated his apparent honesty, but didn’t know how much to trust him.
“There is an Earth saying about opening a can of worms. You’ve certainly done so. Our society is divided, but there has been little rebellion, because both sides need each other. You’ve shown how they can destroy each other without weapons, and frankly, my side has more to lose if society is torn apart by war, since we benefit more.”
“Virus checkers are pretty standard on Earth. It wouldn’t take you long to program one.“
“I’m not Jorxt,” Saxant said. “I know that the immediate problem will be solved, probably within days, but I am more concerned about those who copy you.”
“They won’t be able to use my code once virus checkers are programmed.”
“They’ll be able to use your ideas, and that’s frightening.”
Linda was skeptical of this. Plict society had many opportunities to study humans and presumably would know about computer viruses and cyber warfare. How could the sides of the divided society not have considered this possibility?
“You don’t believe me,” Saxant said. Linda guessed he studied humans. “We’re not really a very imaginative species, and it never occurred to us that what happened on Earth could happen here. If anyone thought about it, they probably assumed our computers were better designed.” He stood up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I realize there are going to be some problems here, and I have some preparations I need to make. If you trust me to help you, you should delay Jorxt for several hours. If Jorxt gives you trouble, I want you to tell him two things. First, he’s used my possessions enough so that I can use his without a qualm, and second, I really do have a permit. When he puts those facts together, he’ll get angry enough to ignore you for a while.” He made her repeat it, then left her to her strawberry/onion beverage.
Linda didn’t understand what Saxant was talking about and wasn’t sure she wanted to be involved in what might be some kind of dissention between Saxant and Jorxt. Nor was she sure she should trust Saxant. Was he on her side at all, or was she just a dupe in some kind of game he was playing with Jorxt?
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