Ammonite Planets (Omnibus): Ammonite Galaxy #1-3

by Gillian Andrews

  “How fast do they travel?”

  “It was necessary to have some rapid form of travel for the genetic manipulation. Genetic material could not be brought here either by cart or by canth – it would spoil before it arrived. These platforms can travel at about five hundred miles per hour.”

  Six blinked. “Sacras! That is fast! From the spaceport here in a couple of minutes then?”

  The man inclined his head. “Exactly. We would have been happy to fetch Valhai Diva from the spaceport, but since we knew nothing about her plans to come to Xiantha …”

  Diva looked uncomfortable. “No.”

  “This not being an official visit organized by the Sellites …”

  “Quite. And now you are taking us …?”

  “Once the canth keeper informed us of your presence here on Xiantha I took the liberty of mapping out a journey which will take the Valhai to see some twenty of her offspring in situ in their adoptive homes. This will take us about five hours.”

  “Perfect. Whenever you are ready.”

  The correct button was duly pressed, a rexelene cover closed the canopy, and the heavy sled rose into the air, hovered without moving for a few seconds, and then took off very quickly in a southerly direction, accelerating all the while. It was hard to assess the speed, for there was no vibration or discomfort whatsoever. Only the trees and hills flashing past made them realize how fast they were traveling.

  “Now we know how the Sellites travel when they come here!” said Six. “I had a feeling they wouldn’t be spending days in a cart, or on top of a canth, come to that.”

  The physician shook his head. “Sellites always travel by magsled when they visit our planet. They bring little colour to us, unfortunately. The number of Sellites who have been adopted by canths is very, very low. They are uninterested in our customs. Their energies are concentrated on financial gain – a concept quite foreign to Xianthan philosophy.”

  They traveled on in this way for perhaps half-an-hour before the platform began to slow down. Diva was almost hanging out of her side of the sled, eagerly awaiting the chance to see one of her own children.

  They finally stopped alongside a neat one-storey building, in front of which a large family had duly assembled. There were gnarled ancients, bent elders, still-strong farmers, upright adults, and two small children. They smiled and waved at the visitors. All were dressed in many-coloured loose garments, and all appeared happy, except the oldest of all the ancients, who was in a two-coloured cloak. The physician saw Diva looking at the old man.

  “He is losing his mind. When we lose our minds, we lose our colours. It is sad, but also inevitable. That man has had a long and happy life, with many colours in it, but now he is fading.”

  “I see.” Diva couldn’t help but look at the children. They were little more than babies, but they were already wearing two colours, and they were running around their older relatives with gusto. They looked very happy. She turned to the physician.

  “May I speak to them?”

  “Most certainly.” The functionary waved at one of members of the waiting family, who bent to scoop up one child in each arm, and walked up to the sled.

  The old man introduced them. “This is the man who whispers to the cornfields, the Elder of the family, and these are his children, the boy who is always outside and the girl who is very naughty.”

  Diva looked into their eyes, which were like hers, but unlike hers at the same time. She could see the resemblance, but these were not clones, these were children who appeared Xianthan in every way.

  She nodded at the Elder. “Thank you.”

  The man was waved back out of the way by their guide, who fiddled with the buttons of the sled once more. “I will take you to the next family,” he said, putting action to words. The sled lifted off the ground, hovered, and then left. Diva put up one hand to wave regally, and the whole family replied.

  “They have never seen a real Valhai, before, of course. This visit brings them much colour.”

  “They look very … very … Xianthan?” Diva didn’t know what she had been expecting, but it had not been these hardy, brown children so obviously content with their lot. They had the strong craggy features of the Xianthans, too.

  The functionary nodded. “They are most special cases. You see, normally children are conceived between two Valhais. This is, of course, the safest method of ensuring that there is no contamination by radiation. However, in this case, no male Valhai donor was available. So we were forced to look closer to home. There are small pockets of Xiantha which remain untouched by the radiation – the canth farm is one, for example, and over the years the few Xianthan nationals who have remained clear of irradiative mutations have donated their genetic material. This was only really intended for research, but when your oocytes were later not matched to a male Valhai, we were forced to use the local donations.”

  “So these children are actually half Xianthan,” mused Six. “No wonder that they look so at home here!”

  “The Xianthan genes are noticeable,” agreed the man who contrived children.

  The magsled sped on across the country until it drew up in front of another low house which lay in a fertile valley. Again the whole family had hastily been gathered to receive visitors, and again the two nut-brown children were clearly completely happy with their lot.

  This was repeated over the following few hours. They visited a total of nine homesteads, and found that all the children were sound, well-fed and comfortable. They stared in awe at Diva herself, and showed no signs of wanting to get to know her any better. She became progressively more and more silent as the afternoon wore on. Six kept looking at her sideways, worried about how she was taking it.

  It wasn’t until they were almost back inside the Donor Headquarters that she spoke again.

  “How many?” she asked.

  “How many children?”

  Diva nodded.

  “I believe it was a hundred and fifty-four thousand, seven hundred and eighty-two. Those are all the children who matured successfully to adoption age, and who have now been placed with families. We had a very high survival rate with this batch. Most satisfying. We lost less than thirty percent.”

  “And there were enough local donors?”

  “It was a great disappointment to us that there were no male Valhais two years ago. Luckily we had just enough local radiation-free donors to be able to utilize all the oocytes. Or almost all of them; there were some few dozens of oocytes left over. Your visit is rather a coincidence – they are scheduled to be destroyed later on today. They are at the very limit now of viability.”

  “You mean that there are some viable oocytes still available?”

  “Only a few dozen. They will be destroyed later today.”

  Diva got to her feet, rocking the sled. “I don’t think so!” she told him.

  “But, Valhai Diva, there are really no further Xianthan donors available,” he explained. “These things cannot be arranged so quickly.”

  “I don’t care how you arrange it, just do it!” said Diva, jumping down from the sled. Six could sense her emotion from a full two metres away.

  GRACE HAD BEEN waiting for what seemed like ages when a well-groomed man came over to her couch, introduced himself as the director of the facility, gave his name as the man who spoke in public, told her that he was a panchrome, and asked her what he could do for her.

  “I would like to discuss the donor apprentice program on Valhai,” she began. “There are things which you should know about the way the program is run.”

  The Xianthan frowned. “I am aware that there were some most unwelcome revelations last year,” he said. “But it was my understanding that the deficiencies in the program had been eliminated, and that the new program is going to be quite acceptable to all parties.”

  “Then you have been wrongly informed.”

  He looked more closely at her. “Forgive me, but are you a competent person to hold these opinions?”
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br />   “I am telling you the truth. The new donor apprentice program that the Sellites are planning to put in place will be very similar to the old one. They will sequester 14-year-olds from the Sacras system, hold them in cells and submit them to intensive schooling until they are 16, and then extract their genetic material without consulting them. The Valhai will be eliminated, as before, or held in cells until they die. Nothing will really have changed.”

  “This is not possible. We have assurances that the whole structure has been changed, and that all the Valhai are volunteers.”

  “That is not true.”

  The director clutched at his hair, and looked very taken aback. “That would be unacceptable to the Xianthans. It would be very poor colour. But we must have volunteers for the donor program. If we do not, our population will plummet and we will no longer be able to exist as a nation. The program is absolutely vital to our existence.”

  Grace knew that he was speaking the truth. “I think I can help you,” she began. “But you will have to enter into negotiations directly with the Coriolans and the Kwaidians.”

  “We could never do that! How could we contact them? We have no spaceships, no form of travel unless the Sellites take us.”

  “That is no longer strictly true. If the orthogel entity is involved, he can transport you to Coriolis, or even to the space station in orbit above Kwaide. You could, if he is prepared to help, organize collection of genetic material on a purely voluntary basis. There is no need to extract the totality of the genetic material from each subject. The Sellites only do that to make the donor program more profitable. You must cut the Sellites out of the proceedings.”

  “We cannot afford to take risks!”

  “There is no colour in the arrangements with the Sellites. Surely that must be unacceptable practice to a Xianthan.”

  The man looked very uncomfortable. “I must think about what you have said. You need to give me a day to contact my superiors, to pass on your comments. If you would like to return tomorrow at the same time, I will be able to give you more of an answer then.

  Grace stood up. “I understand.”

  THE PHYSICIAN STARED at Diva and pulled at his beard for a few moments. “Hmm. A tricky problem. There are so few Xianthans who are licensed to become donors themselves, you see. And we have so little time to complete the fertilization before the oocytes become unviable.” He stroked the grey hairs on his chin again, thoughtfully. “Of course, one doesn’t like to put oneself forward, but since one has spent one’s whole life in this protected bunker, one is one of the few Xianthans who would be acceptable as a donor.”

  Diva gazed at the speaker. He was wrinkled, rather unprepossessing and there was a dribble of saliva traversing a crevice down his cheek.

  “So kind,” she said, feeling back with one hand to grab Six’s arm and tug him forward, “but my friend here has already volunteered.”

  “Hey!” protested Six. “Hang on a minute, I—”

  “—And since he is Kwaidian, and was an apprentice himself, it is the ideal solution, don’t you think?”

  The functionary looked extremely disappointed. “If you say so, Valhai Diva.” He scrutinized Six carefully. “Although he doesn’t appear to have come from particularly strong stock, if you ask me.”

  “And who was asking you, old man?” Six prickled up immediately.

  Diva treated Six to one of her famous glares.

  “What? Well, really Diva! You can’t seriously expect me to father fifty children with you when you know you said you wouldn’t have anything to do with—”

  Diva glared again. “I thought we had agreed that you owed me a favour.”

  “A favour, I said. One small favour! You know, like buying you a Mesteta Pie. I don’t think you have quite grasped the concept of a favour! You’re as bad as Arcan.”

  “I am asking you as a friend, Six. It seems a very small thing to ask.”

  “Huh! It might seem like a small thing to you, but have you stopped to think that I might not want to be a father?” He thought for a long moment, and then gave a theatrical shudder. “And it’s odds on to a vaniven they would all inherit your character!”

  “And just what is wrong with my character, nomus? You are a fine one to talk!”

  “—If the Kwaidian is unwilling to volunteer, Valhai Diva,” interrupted the functionary, “my offer to donate still stands.” He tried to smile, and Diva noticed a few yellowing remnants of food caught between the uneven teeth. She stifled a gag, and signed urgently on Six’s hand.

  Six was instantly still. He had almost forgotten about the time spent in the orthobubbles on Valhai, when the only contact they had with anybody except Atheron had been through signing. Diva was only repeating one word, but the way she was doing it was enough to convince him. It brought back times when he was wholly dependent on her for his very sanity. ‘Please’, she was drumming into his fingers, “Please.”

  It was impossible to ignore the rush of feeling that nostalgic touch had caused in him. He raised his eyes skywards and stepped forward. “I am willing to volunteer, I suppose. Tell me, what exactly does it entail?”

  The man nodded and bustled about the office. He picked up a syringe of quite horrifying proportions and bandied it in front of Six’s face. “Only that I take a sample with this.”

  Six took in the size of the syringe, thought about the prospective process for a few seconds, and then gave a gulp, as certain parts of his anatomy automatically migrated vertically upwards.

  Diva smiled happily, showing her perfect row of teeth. “See,” she said, “nothing to it. Easy as bathing in wine!”

  “Easy? Easy! This … this … err … gentleman is going to stick that enormous great needle in me! Nothing to it? Nothing to it? I bet you wouldn’t say that if you were me. Huh!”

  “Oh, come ON! There is no need to exaggerate. It is hardly a major operation, now, is it? Just a tiny jab.”

  Six’s throat was dry, and he swallowed. “You are a girl,” he pointed out rather unnecessarily, “you wouldn’t understand.” She held his gaze. He swallowed again, and then eventually blew a resigned sigh. “Oh, very well. Go on then! Let’s get the thing over with.”

  The man who contrived children scuttled forward. “You must disrobe, then, Valhai Six.”

  Six’s head came up at the Xianthan’s use of the honorary title. Valhai?

  “—Diva, you won’t be the only Valhai after this!” Then he realized that Diva was still standing there. “Don’t ever call me that again,” he instructed the old man. “I don’t like titles.” Then he turned to Diva. “And you can just remove yourself while this poor man is doing his job. I have no intention of stripping down if you are gaping at me.”

  “You should be so lucky … oh, very well!”

  “Though with fifty children in common, perhaps we should get to know each other better?”

  “Dream on, Kwaidian. Dream on!” Diva abandoned the chamber hurriedly, missing Six’s grin.

  —Which soon turned into a grimace, followed by horror and then gritted teeth. Damn it, Diva, he thought to himself. You are always causing me grief! From the moment you stepped on my foot in that Coriolan space station you have been nothing but trouble. “OUCH!!!”

  AFTER THREE LONG hours of waiting Diva was at the end of her patience. When the door to the chamber finally opened she leapt to her feet.

  “What took you so long?” she demanded.

  Six stared at her for quite three seconds, and then replied in a high-pitched parody of her own voice, “Thank you so much Six, how are you?”

  Diva looked rather taken aback. “Oh. Well, err … yes, how are you?”

  “That is better. I am rather less complete than a few hours ago, but apart from that I am in remarkably good health, thank you.”

  “Thank you for … that is …”

  “My pleasure. Just don’t ever ask me to do that for you again!”

  “As if I could! You know full well that I have no genetic mater
ial left now.”

  “My heart bleeds. You only have a gazillion children being brought up on Xiantha, apart from the fifty you are about to have with me.”

  “They were torn out of me! I didn’t agree!”

  “Yes.” Six thought back to the huge syringe, and blenched. “I think I know how you feel.”

  “Did it all go well? Was the procedure successful? Will all the oocytes be fertilized?”

  “Yes, yes, and I don’t know. Why don’t you ask the functionary, instead of me?”

  Diva hastened to do just that.

  The Xianthan looked smug. “Indeed, Valhai Diva, everything has gone exactly according to plan. The new Xianthans we have created must remain here until a few months after birth, and then we will decide where they are to be placed. Regulations require for them to be delivered to an adoptive family at that age, and I am afraid that our current laws don’t allow changes in procedure.”

  “I am not sure at the moment what our plans are, but we will stay in contact with you.”

  The man bowed. “As you wish. Please remember, though, that these will be Xianthan citizens, as per our agreement with the Sellites, and you may not remove them from Xiantha.”

  “I see.” Diva’s eyes flashed, and for a moment she reminded Six of her mother. “I will be in touch with you soon. Thank you for your help.”

  “It has been my honour. I never expected to meet a real Valhai in my lifetime. We owe the future of our planet to you. Xiantha will always be indebted to the Valhais.” He bowed low again, this time encompassing both of them in his obsequies. Six looked away, but Diva returned the bow with a respectful inclination of her own head. She was grateful to the man – he had given her the chance of having her own progeny, and that was a gift she had never expected. Suddenly she thought of her own family on Coriolis. Sacras! This would change everything! She wondered just how her mother and father would react when they found out that they were the proud grandparents of fifty half-Kwaidian children! She couldn’t help giggling.