Kren of the Mitchegai

by Leo Frankowski

  "Do you really think that this is possible?"

  "You've got the money, you've got the workers, and you have a product sample! What more do you need?"

  "Would you handle this for me?"

  "If you want to give me your money, I'll take it. But I'll just turn the whole project over to your chief engineer, who is currently working for me. You've already got the talent. Use it!"

  "Somehow, I'd feel better if you handled this."

  "As you wish, Your Grace. We'll set up your armor factory in your huge basement here, since I've emptied much of the machinery out of it. My price will be cost plus one third, to be paid to me personally in money, cash or check."

  "That would be adequate," the duke said.

  Kren left to catch his train, shaking his head. How such an excellent leader could have so little confidence in his own troops was beyond imagination. But since he insisted, Kren would take his money.

  * * *

  Kren filled Dol in on the two new projects.

  "For the armor, just give the project to Kren's chief engineer, and let her run with it. See to it that the bookkeeping on this project is kept separate from everything else."

  "Easily done, sir."

  "For the tunnel, well, we'll just call it the 'Exploratory Tunnel,' and tell the few workers involved that it's company confidential. Nothing super secret, but we're just examining soil conditions for future grass-growing tunnels. Also, there just might be some valuable minerals out there, and if we find any, we don't want anybody else to know about it. Even the workers operating the small tunneler shouldn't know what they are really doing, or even where they are. Don't give them any maps. Just give them short charts of angles and distances, enough to keep them busy for a week or so. And get the old charts back as you give them the new ones. Also, I'll want separate bookkeeping on this project as well, with nothing concerning the exploratory tunnel to ever be put on any computer. Just one book for expenses, something that can be destroyed easily. No side notes may be written. All of your sketches must be destroyed immediately. You and I and Duke Dennon will know what is really going on here. Nobody else!"

  "I understand, since I don't want to be bombed from space, either! But, sir, is this project really worth the risk?"

  "I think that it is, both financially, and because Duke Dennon is very important to our entire endeavor."

  "Very well. You are the boss. I'll get right on it, sir."

  * * *

  Kren's scientists got the ancient DNA lab set up, and to the wonderment of all, they managed to get most of the equipment working. Only two small pieces of gear had to be built anew from ancient plans. The first project he gave them was himself.

  "I don't know why I am such an outstanding athlete, but I want to find out. I am positive that it has something to do with this body, and not my brain. Take some tissue samples, and see what you can learn," Kren said to them.

  * * *

  For the six weeks prior to the Planetary Collegiate Championships, Kren won nothing at all, not even a copper third place medal. For the championships, where the amount of money bet would be vastly greater than at any ordinary meet, he made arrangements with his bookie to win sequentially at fencing, accuracy, and distance, and bet half of his considerable personal fortune and most of his corporation's ready cash on the outcome.

  He won all three events, setting new planetary records in javelin distance and accuracy. More importantly, he walked away with enough money to keep his corporation well funded for the next five years.

  Kren promptly authorized the purchase of the machinery required to make their own monochromatic lighting panels, cutting their marginal costs by three quarters on this expensive item.

  * * *

  Saying that a victory celebration was in order, Kren invited three dozen of the university's best female athletes to a week-long party. Kren's prestige being what it was, every one of them was happy to attend.

  The party started with a chartered MagFloat train consisting of an engine and three club cars to take them and a few carefully selected party snacks on the two-hour trip to Kren's Research Center. They were all laughing hilariously when the train pulled up, not to the passenger station, but to the loading docks, where there was an entrance to the Research Center.

  On the loading docks, over a gross of workers were injecting children with knockout drugs, putting them into boxes, and loading the boxes into railroad box cars for shipment to Bronki's stores. It was an efficient process, and Kren proudly showed his slightly tipsy guests through the operation, quoting statistics about the huge numbers of youngsters that he had shipped out to date.

  They then went through a series of huge, noisy, metal-lined tunnels where conveyor belts whizzed by full of dirt that was on its way to hopper cars that would be dumped into an ocean trench. From there, they went through a door that Kren unlocked with both his credit card and a mechanical key, and then up a freight elevator to what Kren privately called his "Breeding Room."

  "Here we are, ladies! Our own private party room, but one big enough to hunt in!"

  The room was huge. It measured two gross yards to the side, the ceiling was six yards above the grass, and it was covered with growing lights. The monochromatic lights were turned off now, but enough normal, solar spectrum lights were on to provide adequate lighting.

  Six dozen children of various ages were grazing, foolishly unconcerned by their arrival.

  Six party tables were clustered at one side of the room, complete with knives and a few electric irons.

  "The floor is bouncy!" one of the athletes shouted, running across the room.

  "Yes," Kren said. "That's real grass, growing on top of a tank of water that's six yards deep. I was afraid that it wouldn't be solid enough to walk on in time, but there it is!"

  "I thought that this would be a more formal affair," another athlete said.

  "No, I wanted to do something really unusual. Something fun! So, the party has begun! Pick a snack that suits you, and run her down! Strap the child to one of the party tables available, and we'll all chow down! And if we eat all of these, I can order up some more! Now let's see who gets the first scream, and who gets the best one!"

  It was pleasantly warm in the big room, and when Kren doffed his clothing, the others did so as well, as he had planned, all the better to ensure that all of their eggs dropped on the grass.

  Most of the party guests took off running after the children, and over two dozen were caught. Most of them were soon released, to be caught again later, when the first six occupied all of the party tables. Soon, six children were screaming in pain, to the applause of the party goers.

  Kren circulated, spreading his sperm around. This room and this party were a refinement of his earlier plans for breeding more bodies like the one he wore. Here, inside of this fairly natural environment, their eggs and his sperm could interact, and a large number of grubs would be the result.

  When the grubs were ready to become pollywogs, they had only to eat through the grass to get to the pool below. And when the pollywogs were ready to become juvenals, it would be a simple matter for them to eat their way back up to the air.

  In a natural environment, on dry land, very few of them would have made it, but here, Kren reasonably expected to get a large number of them for testing.

  The whole room had been built under stringent conditions, in the dead of winter, with every worker having her sexual organs carefully covered. Kren himself had filled the tank with distilled water and chemical fertilizers. He had spread the grass seed on the surface personally, and since that time, no one else had been permitted in the "Breeding Room."

  Nonetheless, a certain amount of contamination was inevitable. Also, many of his own kids would doubtless prove to be unsuitable. Therefore, every single juvenal would be carefully genetically tested, and only the best would be allowed to live.

  As the party became more boisterous, some of Kren's athletic guests began jumping up and down on the grass-
covered water, generating waves that spilled the party tables and knocked some of the other ladies down. They were trying to figure out the right timing to bounce themselves ever higher in the air, trying to touch the ceiling.

  Soon over a dozen of them were jumping up and down in the same spot, and the grass below them gave way. They went right through, and ended up below the water.

  Their fellow party mates, who were more than slightly annoyed at their antics, laughed at them, literally rolling on the ground. No one was worried about them, since Mitchegai are naturally aquatic. Their webbed toes help to make them natural swimmers, and when necessary, a Mitchegai can go without air for a long time.

  Kren laughed along with the rest of his fellow athletes. Nonetheless, rather than risk losing a third of the eggs he wanted to fertilize, he ran back to where he had dumped his clothes and retrieved the sword that Duke Dennon had given him.

  He cut the hole in the grass much bigger, so that enough light would get through for his guests to find their way to the surface, and threw the mats of grass to the juvenals who eagerly started to eat them.

  "Come on in, Kren!" the first one said as she bobbed to the surface. "The water is just the right temperature!"

  "I will! Right after we're sure that none of you idiots have killed yourselves!"

  A head count soon proved that they were all alive and happy, even the one whom Kren had accidentally cut while chopping the hole in the grass. They decided the wound wasn't serious enough to need stitching up, so the party went on. Infections didn't happen on a Mitchegai planet.

  Kren jumped in, followed by the rest of the guests. Again, Kren wasn't worried. Eggs floated, and so did grubs.

  This was actually the first time in his life that Kren had been in the water, but swimming came naturally to a Mitchegai. He loved it, with the breathing exhaust vents bubbling around his waist. He vowed to himself that in his new apartment, being built two dozen stories above them, he would have a big swimming pool in the main living room.

  Hours later, with the party snacks mostly eaten, with only one who was still alive and whimpering pleasantly, Kren and his guests fell asleep, scattered on the warm grass.

  * * *

  The next afternoon, half of his guests were still asleep, but a few, including Kren, had been more moderate in their eating.

  One of the athletes said to Kren, "So just what is it that you are really doing here?"

  "Would you believe that I am relaxing in the presence of good friends after almost a year's hard work?"

  "No. You are obviously plotting something."

  "Is that necessarily bad?" Kren asked.

  "Not necessarily. Tell me about it."

  "Well, first off, I'd have to swear you to secrecy, and you would have to agree that if you ever broke this oath, you would permit me to kill you. I mean, I'd kill you anyway, but it's so much nicer to have the victim's permission, don't you think?"

  She said, "And what's in it for me if I do take this risk?"

  "First, you get to satisfy your curiosity. Second, there is a very good chance that you could become fabulously rich."

  "I like the second part best. Okay, I will take your oath of secrecy. Now tell me about it."

  "Very well," Kren said. "Do you realize that I could have taken the gold at every single event I played in last year?"

  "A lot of us are of that opinion, yes. You only lose so that the betting odds get better."

  "Correct. Now, before I got this body, I wasn't much of an athlete at all. When it gets so old that I have to replace it, it is likely that I won't be nearly as fit as I am now. This is a very superior body, and I want my next one to be just as good. What we are doing here is trying to breed some more of this sort of body. I think that I can do it in three or four generations, maybe four dozen years or so."

  "Interesting. Yes, it makes sense," she said. "One male, three dozen physically fit females, and a place where grubs, pollywogs and juvenals can grow up in seclusion. If it can be done at all, this is the way to do it. But how does this make me rich?"

  "Well, you can't breed just one of anything. I'll have to breed many of them, and do a great deal of careful selecting. In the end, there will be lots of extras, and you could have one, if you work with my program."

  "I like that idea. What's the program?"

  "When you change bodies here, we will also change your ID. I'll then send you to one of the universities on the planet, and pay all of your expenses there. You will enroll in the school's athletic program, and you will stay just good enough so that they don't drop you. Then, twice a year, when I tell you to, you win the gold at your event," Kren said. "You will do that for four years, multiplying your bankroll by maybe a gross each time, eight times in a row. Of course, I'll be betting on you, too, and that's where I'll make my money. But nobody else gets in on this, understood? If they did, it would drive the odds down, and we'd both lose money. Then, in your fifth year, you can go ahead and win everything, if you want to, and rake in all the glory that you need, but for the first four years, you will do it exactly my way, or I will kill you."

  "So if I started with a thousand, after four years I'd be worth, uh, By the Great Egg, there isn't that much money!"

  "Consider that my first gold, when nobody had heard of me, paid well over a gross two dozen to one. I can't promise what the odds on you will be. But however much money there is on this planet, you'll have a lot of it. Are you interested?"

  "Most definitely, sir! When this body starts to get slow, I'll come a calling, and be your most obedient servant!"

  That's one recruit, Kren thought. Two dozen and eleven to go.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  FROM CAPTURED HISTORY TAPES,

  FILE 1846583A ca. 1832 a.d.

  BUT CONCERNING EVENTS OF UP TO

  2000 YEARS EARLIER

  The Death of the Faithful

  Having nothing better to do, some of the party goers stayed on for weeks after the party officially ended, and four were there for the entire summer. Kren spent most of his summer in the breeding room, trying to manage his corporation from a computer that he had brought in. He was starting to learn how to use it, and he was swearing much of the time. Some of his braver guests tried to help him out, but most of them wisely avoided him when the thing was turned on.

  But mostly, he was trying to make sure that every egg was fertilized. He moved his work station every day, pulling long wires behind him, to cover the whole area.

  * * *

  A group of sociologists that Kren had hired to observe the juvenals on his land reported that the children spent over half of their day walking to and from the watering holes on his property.

  Kren ordered that a system of wells, pipelines, and watering troughs be set up so that it was never more than a half-mile walk to get a drink. The sociologists predicted a four per dozen improvement in juvenal weight gain. Kren hoped that they were right.

  * * *

  A group of grass biologists found that over large areas of his land, the growth of grass was reduced because of the lack of sufficient water and nutrients. To a certain extent, the grass acted like a single plant, sending water and nutrients sideways to other plants when there was a local surplus. But this sharing was not perfect.

  Kren ordered the planned watering system to be enlarged to include sprinklers in some areas, and chemical fertilizers to be added where needed. With proper watering and nutrients, the land's productivity was predicted to almost double.

  * * *

  Bronki turned the sales department over to a manager that she'd hired and trained, and spent the summer writing at Kren's country cottage, keeping her promise to Sava and Zoda.

  As long as sales kept on increasing, Kren had no objections. And increase they did, despite the temporary drop in population as many students went elsewhere for the summer.

  At midsummer, the College of Mathematics created a new chair for Chaos Theory, and invited Bronki to fill that position as a department head. S
he graciously accepted the promotion, with its higher status and pay, and resigned her former post as senior professor at the College of Literature.

  * * *

  Kren asked Dol how the big mowing machines were coming.

  "It turns out that we already had a dozen and nine of them, sir. They came with the property."

  "They did?"

  "Yes," Dol said. "Each of the juvenal wintering centers had one. Huge things, they ride on rails set into the grass above the caverns below. Usually, they only use them once a year, for the fall harvest, but this year, I'm having them mow the lawns up there every week, on half of them. The total yearly production looks like it will be about the same, but the biologists tell me that the weekly clipped grass is much richer in protein, and has less cellulose. We're just dumping it into the same silos they've always used, and will feed it to the kids next winter. I want to see if there is any difference in weight gain."

  "Is it cost effective?"

  "To do it over the wintering centers, yes, by all means, since we already have the machinery and legal permission to fence the land. To do it over the rest of your estate, I doubt it. Let's give it a few years, and get some solid data before we try getting any legislative approval, though."

  Dol worked on, managing the day-to-day operation of the corporation completely without pay, but becoming very wealthy even so. There was much that she had learned from Bronki.

  * * *

  Duke Dennon prepared for war, training his best soldiers, his shock troops, in the fine points of fighting indoors, and doing considerable damage to his newly refurbished palace in the process.

  Entering into Tendi's castle through a single, small opening, it was vital that they enlarge their beach head quickly, so as not to get stuck in the bottleneck of the tunnel entrance. His troops had to be trained in a manner that humans would associate with marines, specialized troops willing to take casualties in order to push forward quickly.

  Besides the special training, Duke Dennon planned to use certain illegal drugs that he had purchased from some of the assassin organizations that existed in most of the larger cities. These would encourage his soldiers to take reckless chances during the initial assault.