Kren of the Mitchegai

by Leo Frankowski

  Only the red and lavender uniform cloaks of the soldiers on guard duty looked crisp and new, though made of a rough, sturdy and warm cloth. Drab, camouflaged military clothing is only useful if your enemy has long range-weapons. Otherwise, bright colors are better for morale and unit identification.

  The guards' weapons, while undecorated, were all of the finest quality.

  In Sala's large but well-worn office, she said, "First, we have to make sure that this credit card still works. I mean, I trust you, Bronki, but anything could have happened in the eight days since you got this thing."

  Bronki said, "But of course. I've been worried about it myself. And withdrawing the money now keeps the duke from seeing the name on the card."

  "Quite right." Sala inserted the card into a machine on her desk. "It seems to be all right. Yes, the full amount has been transferred to the duke's private account."

  Kren was about to be outraged about having spent his money without having anything in writing, but Bronki told him to relax. Everything would be just fine.

  "This card is now empty?" Bronki asked.

  "There's less than a gross Ke left in it," Sala said.

  "Then we'd best dispose of it," Bronki said, lighting the plastic card on fire and watching it burn in a ceramic waste container. The odor would have been offensive to a human, but the Mitchegai have almost no sense of smell.

  "Now then," Sala said. "There was a certain sum due to me?"

  "But of course," Bronki said. "Right after the papers are signed and filed with the Bonding Authority. Surely you understand."

  "I suppose that I do. Well, shall we go see Duke Dennon?"

  It was perhaps the last fine day of autumn, and the duke elected to meet his guests on the fighting top of his personal tower.

  Kren thought that Duke Dennon looked very tired, or that perhaps that he had been under extreme stress for a long time.

  While the duke had a more elaborate helmet than his guards, he wore the same rough military cloak and the same practical but high-quality sword that his soldiers did. Kren was glad to be wearing a different sword of slightly lesser quality, if better outward appearance.

  Sala greeted the duke in the aristocratic language of Beno, which Kren understood somewhat, but in which he did not feel confident speaking. The duke was informed that the money, a gross billion Ke, had been transferred to his personal account, and that the transaction had been verified.

  The lines of tension drained off of Duke Dennon's face, and he took a more relaxed stance.

  "Thank you, Sala," Duke Dennon said. "And these are our honored guests?"

  Sala introduced Bronki and Kren, who bowed in the manner that they had rehearsed on the train.

  "Kren, I have looked forward to meeting you since I saw you win the fencing competition at your first meet. Oh, how I wish I had bet on that one! I immediately phoned in a wager on the accuracy throw, to my considerable profit!" Because of their academic garb, the duke said it in Keno, the academic language, which he was not truly fluent in.

  "I am glad to have been the instrument of your good fortune, but I never dreamed that I would have the honor of meeting you personally, Your Grace," Kren answered in Meno, the military language.

  The duke smiled and answered in fluent Meno, "So, you have a military background! Excellent! It's always pleasant to talk with a former soldier. You always know exactly where you stand. Who did you serve under?"

  Among the Mitchegai, loyalty, when it existed at all, was always on a personal basis, and never to a territory, or to a group, or to a philosophy. And certainly not to a religion, because the Mitchegai had no such thing.

  "I was in the army of Duke Mo."

  Duke Mo's estates were on the opposite side of the planet. Since the upper nobility rarely felt safe away from their estates, Kren hoped that the two hadn't met.

  "Duke Mo is said to have an excellent army. Is that where you learned to use the javelin and the épée?"

  "I learned how to handle the spear and the sword there, Your Grace. I learned the ways of the javelin and the épée at the university. Duke Mo's army was equipped much like your own, but I think perhaps with weapons of slightly lesser quality," Kren said.

  "You have a good eye for weapons, then. I thought that I saw you admiring my own sword. It takes a master to recognize a true Kanto blade when it is still in the sheath!" The duke drew his sword to show off the watering on the blade. "It's not fancy, but the blade is the finest quality available anywhere, with twelve foldings in the forging process. Every one of my soldiers has one just like it. Here, take it. It's a gift to honor this great occasion, to mark the beginning of a long-lasting association. Perhaps eventually, even a friendship."

  "I'm deeply honored, Your Grace," Kren said, going down on one knee to accept the sword, as Bronki had schooled him. "I only wish that I could give you an equal gift in return."

  "First, save the knee bending for the throne room, if you don't mind. And second, now that I have your money, the only thing that you could have for me might be some information," Duke Dennon said.

  "If it is possible that I know something that you do not, then certainly," Kren said, standing and slipping his new sword under his white outer belt, in the proper, edge-up fashion. Concealing a sword under your cloak required carrying it vertically.

  "I believe that you know which event you are going to win at, next Saturday. I have been studying the patterns of your wins. After your first meet, at each event, you have won at one and only one of the events that you are outstanding at. The reasons why a perfect athlete would do such a thing are obvious. I want to know which one you will win at next."

  "Your Grace, I am not the perfect athlete that you claim me to be. I can make no prediction with absolute certainty. But with that understood, well, I'm putting my money on the fencing competition, or at least such money that I have left, after today's purchase."

  "Thank you. It is possible that I will make a small wager as well. Next, I want to see you throw a spear in person. You know, on television, your throwing form bears an uncanny resemblance to a very fine young officer and athlete that I used to have in my army."

  "Used to, Your Grace?"

  "Yes, Droko went missing while on guard duty, a year or two ago. Nobody could ever figure out what happened to her. But anyway, Lorka, lend him your spear," he said to one of his guards.

  "I'm not used to throwing from such a height, Your Grace . . ."

  "Two 'Your Graces' per conversation are sufficient, Kren. Just take the spear and see how close you can come to that large juvenal down there," Dennon said, pointing with his sword.

  The juvenal was so far away that the only possibility of hitting her was with a running throw. Kren doffed his academic cloak along with his well-filled pouch and both of his swords. He hefted the borrowed spear, took the three standard running steps, and let fly from the top of the tower. The problem was that the battlements kept him from seeing his target as he was throwing. Standing at them, he watched the spear fly, and he saw that he would miss. The spear caught the juvenal in the tail, pinned the tail to the ground, and caused her to run around in circles in a most comical fashion.

  Everyone but Kren laughed.

  "Ha ha ha! Oh! That was funny!" The duke laughed, "But Kren, it was also a perfect throw. I was watching from the battlements here. The juvenal moved just as you started your run, but you couldn't see her from where you were. You hit exactly where she had been standing! Had she remained where she was, I think your spear would have gone straight through her neck. That was truly amazing! Your style is much like Droko's, but she could never have made that throw!"

  "Thank you. I feel less mortified, now."

  "Lorka, go down, and have the mess attendants take that juvenal for distribution to the soldiers. Then bring back your spear and present it to Kren, here, in honor of that throw. You can draw another one for yourself from stores. And get me another sword while you're down there."

  The duke picked up t
he decorated sword that Kren had brought with him. He drew the blade from the richly engraved scabbard and studied the watering. He judged it to be acceptable, for a civilian.

  "Is this what Duke Mo issues to his soldiers?"

  "No, I had to leave my weapons behind when I left his service. That's the best that I could find in Dren."

  "And why did you leave the services of Duke Mo?"

  "Because my duke had gone over two dozen years without a war," Kren said, remembering what he had read in his current history class. "Things had gotten dull, and promotions had come to an absolute stop."

  "Good. You have a proper warrior's attitude. So tell me, now that you have a huge tract of land, what do you plan on doing with it? Not those filthy drug schemes that Kodo had in mind, I hope."

  "Drugs? No, certainly not!" Kren said, "There are plenty of honorable ways to make a decent living. But I don't actually have the land, yet. There is a matter of signing and registering certain papers . . . ?"

  "Right you are! Sala, have the papers brought up to the table here, and we'll get on with it right now." Turning back to Kren, he said, "But what are your plans?"

  What were his plans! A strange feeling came over Kren. While it was doubtless a result of the brain segments that he had taken from Kodo, still reorganizing themselves in his head, it seemed to him to be a flash of enlightenment, as if his whole future was now laid out in front of him. It was astonishing, but it also left him somewhat confused. Fortunately, the liar he had once eaten came to his rescue, and he ad libbed until his thoughts started to crystallize about him.

  "You will understand that I didn't hear about your offer until this morning, and I will have to make a thorough survey of the property before I can be sure of anything. But I have dreamed of owning a large tract of land for many years, and I have had many thoughts. If the land I'm buying is like similar areas that I have studied, its current economic function is simply to be a place where juvenals wander into, become larger and fatter, and then wander out of, to be eaten elsewhere. No one is making a profit off of it. Currently, at the University of Dren, the average juvenal sells for almost three dozen Ke."

  "That much?"

  "Yes. The method of collecting them is rather inefficient. Individual hunters, often impoverished students, go out and bring back one or two at a time. I think that if I set up an efficient system of collection, transportation, and distribution, the profits could be large."

  "That is very interesting. You seem to be a remarkably creative person, Kren."

  "Am I? It seemed only common sense to me."

  "Well, in hindsight, yes. But to have the foresight to see it, well, that is something else. But the papers are here. Shall we sign them?"

  "By all means!"

  As soon as all copies were signed and witnessed, Bronki and Sala collected them up.

  Bronki said, "I guess that concludes our business here, Your Grace. Kren and I have to catch a train back to the university in an hour. We both have our academic duties to perform there tomorrow."

  "But I was enjoying my conversation with Kren," the duke said. "You two go and get everything properly registered with the Bonding Authority. You can come back for him in two-thirds of an hour. They'll hold the train if I request it."

  "Yes, Your Grace," Sala said, taking Bronki with her.

  "Now then, tell me more about your plans," the duke said.

  "Well, if the collection and distribution of juvenals goes well, and proves profitable, I plan to extend my sales organization out into other nearby cities, until I start reaching the limit of what my land can sustainably provide."

  "And then you will need more land."

  "Perhaps," Kren said. "But that would be expensive, and there might be ways to increase the yield of what I already own. Academic studies of grass have shown that walking on it injures it. It must expend energy to repair the damage to its roots, energy that could otherwise be spent on growth. Juvenals outnumber adults by more than a gross to one. Thus, the total damage done by adults is small. Theoretical studies suggest that growth could be doubled if juvenals could be kept off of it, and this is verified by the yields of grass sequestered for the production of long grass."

  "So you are thinking of putting all of your land in long grass, and feeding it to the juvenals?"

  "Not quite. Long grass is high in cellulose and low in proteins. It is not the best possible feed. But if large hovercraft could be built to mow the grass every week or so, and this could be fed to penned juvenals, I think that production would more than double. The actual cost of mowing is still unknown, of course. Just how profitable this system would be would have to be seen."

  "Yes, yes. But why do you say, more than doubled?" Dennon asked.

  "Because the juvenals would have nothing to do now but eat, sleep, and grow. They wouldn't have to expend much of their energy moving around. We could feed them only at night, perhaps, and let them lie in the sun all day. Furthermore, they might prove to be much better eating, with more tender meat and more fat."

  "This is truly a remarkable program, and I wish you well with it. I will be watching you carefully, and who knows, someday I might try something like this myself."

  "You are welcome to," Kren said. "Once it proves profitable, I will have many competitors. I will stay out in front because I will have been there first, a step or two ahead of the rest."

  "A sensible attitude. Do you have further thoughts?"

  "A few, but they will be done many years in the future, if ever. I wonder if it would be practical to grow grass under fusion-powered lights in a building. The power itself is fairly cheap, and indoors, with constant, optimal lighting two dozen hours a day, with perfect fertilization, and perfect watering, with no winters or cloudy days, well, I think that it might be possible to produce at least a dozen times as much grass per square yard as you would get outdoors. And when you consider that a building could be easily built with two dozen stories, well, perhaps I might never need any more land."

  "That would take a massive, long-term investment, but in the long run, why, it would permit our population to grow by a factor of two gross!" Duke Dennon said.

  "And therein lies the profit."

  "I am fascinated! Did you have any further thoughts?"

  "Only one. It is that we have been selectively breeding our own species for millions of years. Not always consciously, of course, but when we are ready for resurrection, we always pick the best body that we can get, and these are the bodies that make the next generation of eggs and sperm. We have been breeding for perfect adults, and I think that the results have been excellent. Certainly, I wouldn't want to change that. But we have not been breeding for perfect juvenals. We have not considered that with further selective breeding, we could turn out juvenals who matured quicker, who needed less food, and who tasted better. I wonder what could be accomplished along these lines."

  Actually, Kren had several other ideas, but thought it best not to mention to Duke Dennon the breeding of superior warriors. One day, he might have to go to war with him.

  "My mind boggles, Kren. I see that our assistants are returning, and that you will soon have to leave. I would like to see you again, though, perhaps for a weekend?"

  "I regret that I must study through the week, and play sports on most weekends."

  "But we both know your schedule. In three weeks, the University of Dren won't be playing for one weekend. Come visit me then."

  "With great pleasure, Your Grace."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  FROM CAPTURED HISTORY TAPES,

  FILE 1846583A ca. 1832 a.d.

  BUT CONCERNING EVENTS OF UP TO

  2000 YEARS EARLIER

  Selling Shares in Children

  The duke's guard, Lorka, met them on the stairway and presented Kren with the spear he had used earlier. Kren and Bronki talked only of ordinary things until they were in their cabin on the train. It took off immediately after they got aboard, since they really had been holding the trai
n for them. This was something that the MagFloat Corporation did not like to do, but one does not argue with a duke.

  "What happened between you and the duke while I was gone?" Bronki asked.

  "Something very strange. He asked me what my plans were for the land he was selling me, and I had a most amazing burst of creativity, something which has never happened to me before. Well, I have done original things in the past, or at least things which I thought were original at the time. Originality is easy when you are ignorant of what has happened before. I deduced that by eating juvenal brain tissue, I could improve my studying, for example, and I came up with a novel way to bring six juvenals, who were each almost as big as I am, back to what is now my house. But those things were trivial compared to what happened to me today."

  "And what was this flash of enlightenment? What exactly did you think about?"

  "I suddenly saw a whole lifetime of research laid out in front of me, research the results of which could easily make me the most important person on the entire planet," Kren said.

  Kren explained the whole program to Bronki, in more detail than he had explained to Duke Dennon, and not suppressing his thoughts on breeding superior soldiers.

  "This body I got in the mines is obviously far better than the usual one. The duke said that I was better with a spear than the soldier that I had eaten, the one who gave me my skills with a spear in the first place. I seem to be stronger, much faster, and much more accurate than anyone else on the planet. I suspect that it might have something to do with the nerves. As soon as possible, we must build a structure where my offspring can be kept and secretly nurtured. If whatever this body has breeds true, think of the army that I'll have!"

  "And where will you get the females to perform this experiment with?"

  "There are plenty of fine female athletes at the university. Some of them might have some of the same genes that make me so good. I need only invite a dozen of them over to some secluded place for a dinner, a victory party perhaps, a few times every year. I will personally clean the place very thoroughly before they arrive, make sure that no one else but me, my athletic friends, and some juvenals are there in the interim, and then I will vacuum the whole place carefully after they leave, using new vacuum bags. I will distribute the fertilized eggs on new grown grass inside a closed building with suitable growing lights. The grubs will be kept separate, and when their time comes, they will become well-fed pollywogs in their own tank. The juvenals will be carefully nurtured on grass grown under artificial lights. Then, once the first generation has grown, my own daughters would be suitable egg layers. After a few more generations, the offspring would be genetically very like me."