Because of her weakness and pain, he had to use his sword to chop up the young boy he'd brought for her, but Bronki ate the pieces quickly, throwing the bones out into the now well-tended field, being too weak to chew them up.
"Probably just as well," she said, as she became drowsy. "I'd need a new body soon anyway. As to the skills I'll be losing, well, a few years of study will get them back, maybe better than before. I may even come up with something really new, you know. There have been cases on record where an old mind has lost a segment, for one reason or another, and when it finally relearned what it had lost, it had become very creative concerning that particular skill."
"I wish you very good luck," Kren said, and perhaps he actually meant it.
When she fell asleep, he carried her bloated body back to her room and put her to bed. Then he went to bed himself.
He awoke to the sound of a fusion-powered helicopter, and ran out to see it setting itself down near the door under its big, counterrotating blades.
The pilot climbed down and said, "Is here all right?"
"Yes, I suppose that would be fine."
"I've got another delivery in this area in two days. I'll pick up the cage on the way back, if that's okay."
"That would be good, yes," Kren said.
"Fine. You are the recipient?"
"No, that would be Bronki, but she's in a stupor just now."
"Yes, she said that she was injured. You're Kren?" the pilot asked.
"Yes."
"She said that you could sign for this girl. Also, there's this syringe of anesthetic she ordered. It has to be injected into a major muscle two hours before the event. Do you know how to do that?"
"I'm a qualified military medic," Kren said.
"Good. The anesthetic will stay effective for two weeks, and will help out with the headaches as well. Just make sure that the young one eats the muscle that you shot up," she said and pressed a button on a pendant control that lowered to the ground a cage of heavy metal bars containing a starving, young carnivore.
"The cage is quite simple," she continued. "The new girl is back here. Put the old one in the front of the box, strap her in, and lock the door. Then pull these pins, and the wall between them will fold away. Once the new one has finished and has gone to sleep, put her someplace safe. She'll wake up in a week or two, a new person."
"That sounds simple enough," Kren said.
"Good. Sign here."
The pilot climbed back up into her craft and flew away.
Kren looked at the bare needle of the syringe in his hand and decided that there was no time like the present. He went into Bronki's room, to find her lying on her back, with her extended stomach bulging in the air.
The Mitchegai digestive system is quite elaborate for a carnivore. The first stomach, located just below the diaphragm, is used for little else but storing brain cells until they can be taken up by the blood stream. The second stomach is a hugely expandable storage bag, permitting a Mitchegai to consume a being even larger than herself. Only in the third stomach does actual digestion start to take place. The intestines are smaller than in a human, requiring more frequent defecation.
The buttock contained the largest muscle in the Mitchegai body, but the upper thigh was almost as big, and Kren saw no point in rolling her over and possibly waking her.
She didn't even murmur as he injected the anesthetic deep into the muscle. Of course, it wouldn't occur to a Mitchegai to apply an antiseptic before an injection.
He spent the next two hours reading a book concerning the life of a university student, hoping that it was more accurate than the one about military life.
When the clock in his study showed that the time was up, he carried Bronki out and strapped her in the front half of the cage, while the new girl screamed with hunger.
Using his sword, he cut off the top of Bronki's head, and making frequent reference to her sketch, he sliced out and ate precisely those portions that were agreed upon. They were delicious, and he was tempted to take a bit more, but he decided that it might be dangerous to do so.
Then he replaced the skull cap, locked the front door, and released the screaming young carnivore, before going indoors to rest for a bit.
He had intended to only relax for a few hours, but when he awoke, he found that he had slept for over two days. Dizzy and confused, he went out to check the cage.
He was relieved to find that all was well out there. The youngster was sleeping undisturbed. If the housekeeper had been by, she had touched nothing.
It was not easy to get the new Bronki out of the cage and into her old room. The new carnivore had eaten all of the old Bronki, who had been swollen with the large juvenal she had previously eaten. She weighed well over twice what she originally had. Feeling weak himself, Kren had to drag her most of the way.
He had just completed the job when the helicopter arrived to pick up the cage. He waved to the pilot, glad that he did not have to think up a plausible lie for Bronki's presence in the cage. In truth, he wasn't thinking very clearly just then.
Then he locked the door, went to his room, and slept for another three days, troubled by strange, mathematical dreams. It was the first time that he had eaten a major portion of brain without also eating the body as well. He felt surprisingly hungry. He resolved that if he ever did this again, he'd eat a juvenal along with it, and go into a proper stupor, if he could somehow figure out a safe way to do that.
He rectified that problem now by going out, killing, and eating a small juvenal. He didn't want to be in a stupor when Bronki awoke, because he still didn't trust her.
Returning to the house, he noticed that Bronki's old study was devoid of dried blood. The housekeeper had apparently come, cleaned, and left.
Eventually, while Bronki still slept, he picked up the book on mathematics that he had been struggling with for so long. No longer was it incomprehensible to him. In fact, it all looked childishly simple.
Obviously, the operation had been a success.
He spent the next few days going over every book on mathematics that he could find in his new house. He was elated to find that he comprehended it all, from corporate accounting to advanced matrix theory, even the most complicated texts.
The housekeeper came every two days, as silent as before. She must have had some hint as to what was going on, because she stayed away from Bronki's room. As before, he stayed out of her way and let her get on with her job.
Once Bronki was awake, they would somehow explain to the servant that he was now master of this house.
Kren started in on the sciences. With his now superb knowledge of mathematics, he made it through the introductory text in only three days, and four days after that had completed a book on basic physics.
He was well into his first chemistry text when Bronki finally woke up. She staggered outside to relieve herself, and then went to the living room for a long drink of water.
"I always hate this part," she said.
"Is there anything that I can do to help?"
"You can do nothing but leave me alone. I'll be another week getting myself reintegrated."
With that, she staggered back to her room and closed the door.
Kren soon started into biology, a subject far different on a Mitchegai world than in any other place in the universe. They had, after all, only two species to study. But what they lacked in breadth, they made up for in depth. Billions of worker years had gone into the study of their limited subject matter. Every single gene was completely known and understood. Every single chemical used in either species was accurately classified, and all of its functions were completely explained.
Every possible drug that could have any effect on a Mitchegai was carefully cataloged and understood. The vast majority of them had been made illegal, since anything that could cause a short-term improvement inevitably caused a long-term disability. Anything that would result in a long-term benefit had already been bioengineered into the race. Also, any illegal
product provided the legislators with an opportunity for considerable personal profit.
He was finishing up his first book on biology when Bronki made her next appearance.
"You are a lot slimmer than you were a few weeks ago," he said.
"Integration is a high-energy process. I need a few days to get my course outlines at least started, then we have time for a last good meal on country food before it's time for us to start for the university."
"I'm not sure that going to the university would be such a wise move for me. The identification scars on my arms are fraudulent, and if an officer of the duke's army were to study them, and make a few inquiries, I could be in big trouble," Kren said.
"So wear your cloak until we get to the university. You'll be safe enough once you're there. The University of Dren is an independent academic corporation. It's located at the intersection of four dukedoms, and it pays taxes to all four of them, but it's not under the jurisdiction of any of them. If any one of the dukes were to force his way in, the other three would feel threatened and attack him immediately. You'll be safe."
"That is interesting. Perhaps I will go."
"You must go," Bronki said. "If I show up without you, the athletic director will claim that my letter to him was a practical joke, and then he would make my life very difficult."
Five days later, they locked up the house and started walking to the public transportation terminal.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A Business Lunch
New Kashubia, 2205 a.d.
As we went to the dining room, I found that a name tag had appeared on my chest. Apparently, the idea was that we should all get to know each other. This impression was confirmed when I saw that the tables all had place cards at them. I found myself seated at a round table with five other generals. My colonels and electronic people were scattered out at other tables.
"So," General Hastings said. "We find that we are up against an enemy with at least sixty-eight thousand planets with a typical population of a hundred and fifty billion people on each of them. We have got maybe fifty planets, depending on what you want to call a planet, with a total population of perhaps thirty-two billion people. It would appear that we are outnumbered by something like three hundred thousand to one. Does anyone have any comments on this situation?"
"It kind of makes you want to find an asteroid in an uninhabited solar system, hollow it out, and live there for the rest of your life," General Castaneda said.
Some of the stunningly beautiful and nearly naked waitresses that Sobieski preferred started serving food and drinks. We each got our favorite drinks and dishes, but nobody paid any attention to it, or to them.
"I wonder how many asteroids like that there are?" General Fong asked.
"Joking aside," General Toronaga said, "It might be a very good idea to set up a large number of such hidey-holes. That way, even if we lose this war, humanity itself could go on."
"I suppose that you are right," I said. "Still, it's a depressing thought. Humanity, hiding inside of rocks for the rest of eternity? Maybe death would be better."
"We might win," General Nasser said. "After all, we know about them and they don't know about us."
"Don't bet on it!" Fong said. "For well over a hundred and fifty years, we have been sending robot probes out into the universe. We've lost a lot of those probes. How do we know what happened to them? Maybe these aliens know all about us!"
"Good point!" Hastings said. "One of the first orders of business will have to be that all of our probes are equipped with an array of modern sensors, a decent machine intelligence, and one bodacious self-destruct mechanism!"
"I'll second that," I said. "The problem there is that we don't have communication with most of those probes just now. I just had a hand in destroying Earth's Solar Station, which kept in touch with them, and kept them fed."
Castaneda said, "Then they haven't filled you in on that yet. It turned out that there was enough surplus capacity around the old Smuggling Net to keep in touch with the probes. Those that really needed it are getting enough fuel to keep blasting, and the rest are at least operational. Building enough dedicated accelerators and transmitters for them is way up on the priority screen."
"That's some relief," I said. "Why don't people tell me these things?"
"Probably because you didn't ask," Hastings said. "So. We need smarter probes, better protected probes, and much better sensors on our probes. We also need a whole lot more probes. Currently, there are many light-years between many of them. We need a much tighter net than that."
"And we need at least two layers of net," I said. "One farther out, to find intruders, and a second one that can send in interceptors if the first one picks up anything."
"I'd like at least a third backup in the system, too," Toronaga said.
Nasser said, "Wouldn't we all! The question is, how much of this can we do, and how fast can we get it done?"
The conversation became more animated, and eventually we'd spent fifteen hours at that luncheon table, and eaten three lunches each. We finally determined just what we needed and where, and when we were likely to get it.
For a while there, I kept insisting that we needed planetary defenses just as much as we needed system-wide defenses, but I didn't get much support from the others. "Later," they kept on saying. "We'll get to that later."
As things started to wind down, I said, "Didn't we have an afternoon meeting with Sobieski?"
Hastings said, "Of course we did, and still do. But in the Command Center's version of Dream World, there's always time to argue things out. You're new here. You'll get used to it after a while. Look around you. Is anybody else moving?"
I looked, and it was as if all of the other tables in the restaurant were tenanted by statues.
"Now, that's your signal that everyone else has finished their conversations. Actually, we might have delayed things by ten or fifteen minutes, real time. Nothing to worry about," he said.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
FROM CAPTURED HISTORY TAPES,
FILE 1846583A ca. 1832 a.d.
BUT CONCERNING EVENTS OF UP TO
2000 YEARS EARLIER
A Girl and Her Vampire: Plans for Power and Glory
"What a lovely day for a walk!" Bronki said, "I had become so used to the little aches and pains of my old body that I had almost forgotten how wonderful a fine, new one feels."
They walked south, Bronki in her colorful academic robes, and Kren in his helmet and cloak, with his spear and sword belt, but no other baggage, since he didn't own any. Bronki went empty handed because she kept a complete set of belongings at each of her houses.
She still considered the house that they had spent the summer at to be hers, because the quit claim deed she had given Kren simply assigned to him any ownership which she had in the property, but made no other promises.
Legally, she had never actually owned it in the first place. It was owned by a corporation which was owned by another corporation which she controlled. To her mind, she was simply permitting Kren to indulge in a pleasant fantasy, while he paid the expenses on the place.
And between these expenses, and various other ways she had to get money out of him, she was sure that she'd break even on the deal within two years. It was a small period of time for a person of her age. After that, their relationship would be profitable for her. Perhaps very profitable.
"You've never lived in a city before, have you," Bronki said.
"No, I haven't."
"Then there are a few things that you should know. The population density of a city is much higher than it is in the countryside. If everybody killed and ate as many juvenals as she wanted, soon there wouldn't be any left, and the grass would suffer. For the most part, you must either travel away from the city to eat, or you must buy your food from someone who makes a business of collecting juvenals for sale. The cost is about the same, either way, and it saves time to simply buy what you need. The punishment for killing a juvenal w
ithout a permit within city limits is quite severe."
"Then what do they do with the juvenals that live there?" Kren asked.
"They have a lottery that you can sign up for, and if you win, you have a right to make one kill. At the university, odds are that you will get one every two years."
"If cities are so expensive, why do so many live there?"
"Many individuals don't," she said. "But cities have a lot to offer that the country doesn't. More social interaction, more entertainment, more jobs. In your case, it is difficult to get an education all by yourself. You need others around you."
"I see."
"Another thing. In the country, there is enough grass to take care of our sanitary needs. In the city, you must use a toilet. Do you understand what a toilet is?"
"We used toilets in the mine," he said.
"Good. Again, the penalties for not using one in a city are severe."
They topped a rise as they walked south.
"I've passed that thing six times since I left the mine, and I still don't know what it is," Kren said, pointing, as they walked down the road.
"It's a field of grass, of course," Bronki said.
"There's no 'of course' about it! It has some kind of a structure around it, and there's this tall green stuff towering above it."
"That is a walled field. The wall keeps the juvenals out. And that's what grass looks like when nobody keeps it trimmed down."
"But why would they do such a thing?" Kren asked.
"Long grass has several uses. It can be processed for its fiber, for one thing. Most of our paper, rope, and clothing is made from grass fiber. The rest is synthetic, except for leather. Most of the long grass, though, is used to feed the juvenals in the winter," Bronki said, amazed at his ignorance of the simplest things.
"I'd heard of grass paper, but I hadn't realized that they actually made it from grass. What is this winter thing you mentioned?"
And I'm taking him to the university, Bronki thought. I'll be a laughingstock for sure. "Winter is the part of the year when it gets cold."
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