Changelings

by Anne McCaffrey

  The first day of class, Rory’s gran strode into the room after they were all seated. She was dark-skinned, like Rory, with the same rough-carved features and broad nostrils. Her eyes were not blue like his, but sparkling black, like anthracite at the bottom of a cold and flowing stream.

  “So,” she said. “You are all my grandson’s classmates. Do not think, because Rory is my grandson, that I am a daft old woman who will sit here knitting while you throw spitballs at each other.”

  They all laughed. Professor Mabo had a great smile, with shiny white teeth and dimples, and when she spoke, her voice had kind of a song to it. It rose and fell and did little tweaks and twirls that made what she had to say more interesting. And it turned out to be plenty interesting already.

  She took out some pictures that looked like the ones the twins had seen in Rory’s parents’ quarters. They were very stylized and looked kind of like X rays of animals, with pictures of other things inside of them. “Do you know what these are?” she asked.

  “Rory’s screensaver?” Ke-ola asked.

  “Is it?” Professor Mabo asked her grandson.

  “Yeah, Gran, I have the wombat design as a screensaver.”

  “It will be Professor Mabo to you too, Rory, while class is in session,” Rory’s gran told him. “As for you, young man, you are apparently correct. Rory does have this sort of artwork as a screensaver. So you are familiar with the design, but do you understand what it means?” Rory raised his hand, but very cautiously. He wasn’t looking nearly so pleased to be in a class where his grandmother was the teacher now. Murel thought it would have been nice if the grandmother had told Rory before class started what he was supposed to call her.

  “Anyone but you, Rory. This art comes from our culture, so you should know already what it means. But I want to know if anyone else can figure it out.”

  “I think I know,” Ronan said at the same time he raised his hand.

  “Yes. It’s Ronan, is it not?” But she looked as if she knew exactly who he was.

  “Yes, ma’am. I think the drawings inside the bigger drawing are the story that explains the bigger creature. Some of the art of our Inuit ancestors is a bit like that.”

  “Most perceptive, Ronan. That is indeed part of the reason for the inner drawings. They also serve to depict the essentially dual nature of all creatures.”

  “All creatures, Professor?” Murel asked.

  “Oh yes. You will always find the remnants in every living thing of the thing it was before it became the thing it is now.”

  “But most creatures are only one thing at a time, aren’t they? I mean, they used to be something else maybe, but now, in this time, they are what they look like.”

  “Most creatures? That is an interesting way to phrase your question, my dear. Most students would feel that all creatures are as you describe, not merely most.”

  “Oh well, we don’t know about all, do we?” Dewey asked. “I mean, none of us have seen all the creatures there are to see. That’s what Murel meant, right, Murel?”

  She nodded slowly, which wasn’t exactly a lie.

  “I think in the future—Dewey, is it not?—you must allow Murel to clarify her own comments. Yes?”

  “Okay, Professor. Sorry.”

  “The other interesting feature of this art form is that it demonstrates a certain knowledge of the anatomy of these creatures. It was probably influenced by the earliest dissections, at least insofar as shown by bone structure, organ placement, and the relationship of the parts to each other. Therefore, we will be doing dissections in this class—hands-on ones, not via computer or videotape. Since there is no extraneous animal life aboard this space station, when I learned I was to have a teaching position here, I brought specimens from my last laboratory. We will begin tomorrow. For now, you are to read the first two chapters in your text, and we will discuss them tomorrow.”

  She dismissed the class. Murel and Ronan stood up to leave, but Rory stopped them. “My mum said I should ask you two if you’d care to come for dinner tonight. She’s making a special meal in honor of Gran. Can you come?”

  “Sure. We’ll have to ask Marmie, but I don’t think she’ll mind,” Ronan said.

  Marmie met them at the flitter when they came home that afternoon. She had a small bag in her hand. “I have been called away on business for a couple days, children. While I am gone, Petronella will look after you. You must not annoy her. She is not as tolerant as I am, and is much better at hand-to-hand combat, so I trust you will behave.” Petronella Chan was Marmie’s chief of domestic security, in charge of the mansion, grounds, and in fact the entire deck housing Marmie and her staff. She reported only to Space Station Security Chief Fadeyka Petrovich, but he also reported to her. They worked together to ensure that the station, and especially their employer, was safer than most fortresses. Neither twin had been in an actual fortress, but knew they were supposed to be really safe. Pet was a tough cookie, but she also baked great cookies, and the twins liked her a lot.

  “We always do behave, Marmie,” Murel said.

  “Rory wants us to come to his place for dinner tonight,” Ronan said. “Is it okay? Will Pet let us?”

  “I shall call her and tell her I authorize it,” Marmie answered, and bent to give them each a double-cheeked kiss before boarding the flitter and buzzing off to the docking area.

  Rory’s folks were quite nice and had sponsored class events before, though they’d never invited the twins to their quarters.

  His mother, Elizabeth, was a scientist, a biologist like her own mother, Professor Mabo. Rory’s father was an engineer. Everyone was bustling around like mad when the twins got there. Dinner was cooking, and it smelled delicious, all spicy and vaguely like roasting meat.

  Rory’s da carried a large chair and set it down in front of Ronan and Murel, emitting a huff as he did so. “Have a seat, one of you. Or better yet, pick up something and set it on its chalk mark.”

  “Is it a game?” Murel asked Rory.

  “Nah,” he said. “They moved us into bigger quarters now that Gran is with us. She has an apartment of her own next door, but there’s a connecting door. Our other place wasn’t set up that way. They just told my mum today.”

  “That’s fast,” Ronan said.

  He and Murel helped to put things where they were supposed to go. Finally, Rory’s mum called out that they should stop and told Rory to go next door and get his grandmother so they could eat.

  Professor Mabo was the only one who didn’t look overheated and sweaty. Rory’s mum and dad rushed around trying to get the food on the table, but the professor took a seat and stayed there. “Seniority has its privileges,” she told Murel and Ronan, showing her dimples as she smiled at them as if it were a big joke.

  “Sure,” Ronan said. “I bet you had to run around like this to take care of stuff when Rory’s mother was little too.”

  “Oh no, I had assistants to do these things. Unfortunately, Elizabeth has not attained the stature I had even as young as I was, and so she must raise Rory and entertain his friends with no help except that of poor Bram, who as you can see is not quite up to the task.”

  That’s a nasty thing to say, Murel told her brother.

  At least she isn’t being nasty to us, Ronan answered.

  “Rory, go back to my apartment and fetch the book on my dresser,” his gran said. “There are pictures in there I want to show you all.”

  Rory had just settled into his chair and was helping himself to the first ladle of food from one of the steaming dishes.

  “Can’t it wait until after dinner, Mother?” Rory’s mum asked. “The food is hot now.”

  Ronan and Murel exchanged nervous looks. Rory’s mother sounded as if it took all of her courage to speak up to Professor Mabo.

  I think I’m not so sorry we don’t have a grandma after all, Ronan said.

  They’re not all like her. We know lots of nice grandmas in Kilcoole.

  But Professor Mabo looked at
the two of them and changed her tone. “I’m sorry. How thoughtless of me. Of course we must eat your lovely meal while it’s hot. Rory can get the photos afterward or perhaps we can all go to my quarters to look at them while you and Bram clean up. My rooms are more spacious and comfortable anyway.”

  She smiled at the twins and Rory, and everybody dug in. Professor Mabo seemed to relax during the meal and even told some funny stories about collecting species on various planets and her other work with the institute. “ ‘What kind of a rat is that?’ the man asked me, and I said, ‘It’s a bear, actually.’ He said it was no wonder he had sustained so many injuries while trying to catch them with cheese.”

  The twins offered to help with the cleanup, as they’d been taught, but Rory’s mother seemed relieved to have everyone out from underfoot. “No, no, you go. It’s quite an honor for you that Mother wants to share her work—or at least its history—with you.”

  “Yeah,” Rory said, frowning. “She never showed me any of that stuff before.”

  By then, Professor Mabo was waiting impatiently by the door, so the three of them caught up with her.

  Rory acts like he’s mad at us, Ronan told Murel, with a big question mark hanging over the thought.

  Well, she’s his grandma but she’s being nicer to us than she is to him. I wonder why?

  ’Cause we’re so cute? Ronan asked.

  Does Professor Mabo seem like the kind of person who cares about cute to you?

  No, not exactly. Why, then?

  I dunno. Maybe we’ll find out pretty soon.

  Professor Mabo’s place didn’t look very grandmotherly at all, or even homey. It was bare of pictures and personal touches. In the center of the living room there was a long white table with chairs around it, as if prepared for a meeting. Her computer was at one end. Instead of knickknacks, she had specimen jars. They seemed to contain small pickled creatures or parts of them.

  I don’t think I want to see what’s in the fridge, Murel said.

  “Now then, children, have a seat and I will bring out my album,” Professor Mabo said. When she came back out, she was wearing a shawl over her ship suit and fuzzy slippers, as well as a pair of reading spectacles, an old-fashioned touch.

  She sat down with the album in front of her and asked Murel and Ronan to pull up chairs on either side. Rory had to peer over her shoulder.

  After showing them a number of creatures that were variations on lions, tigers, bears, and camels, she displayed a picture of two different sorts of lizard. “Now this is a Sorrysaurus,” she told them of the first one. “Guess what this one is?”

  “Dunno,” Rory said.

  “Me neither,” Ronan said.

  Murel shook her head.

  “Just guess.”

  “Can’t,” they all three said.

  “It’s a Sorrysaurus too.”

  “They look really different.”

  “It’s a chameleon of sorts,” Professor Mabo said. “It not only changes colors, it actually changes shapes according to its environment.”

  “Weird,” Rory said.

  “Not at all,” she said. “It’s simply a natural adaptation, quite practical under the circumstances. The world on which the Sorrysaurus lives changes not only its climate, but the complete environment of its landmasses from one season to the next. The first picture, in which the creature is yellow-green, is a warm-season Sorrysaurus. The second picture, in which the creature is white and spiked, is the cold-season version. Not only does the creature survive the entire year, but also, only one creature of its sort inhabits the same territory year round, which limits predation to some degree.”

  “If you say so,” Ronan said. “It sure looks different, though.”

  “Many creatures in the universe change their colors or shapes—for some it is a question of time. You are not the same shape you will be when you are a man, for instance, Ronan. Nor is Murel the same shape she will be when she is an adult woman. For others it is a question of season or environmental coloration. The Sorrysaurus is only one of the slightly more extreme versions. There are many others. I find them fascinating, don’t you?”

  “Oh yeah,” Rory said.

  Murel and Ronan both nodded cautiously. “How can they do that exactly?” Ronan asked.

  “It is so simple it’s a wonder more things don’t change form more often,” the professor said. “We are all of us made up of various particles. The important thing about this—whatever the theory, whatever the physicists call them—is that all of these particles, relative to their size, are very very far apart. They have great latitude of movement. If they are somehow manipulated, by whatever science or force, to move in certain ways, the nature of the object or being they compose will also alter. Human beings have known this for many years before they knew about science. Always, throughout history, even before it was written down, there are stories of men or beasts who are first one thing and then another. Once, this was thought to be superstition, but I have made a study of the way life forms are altered, particularly on these new, terraformed planets, and I have seen, as you see here with the Sorrysaurus, that such transformation is not only possible but actually occurs.”

  There was a knock on the door then. When Rory opened it, Pet Chan stood there.

  “Dr. Mabo? The doctors Upfield say that Ronan and Murel are visiting you. It is time for them to return to their compound and go to bed.”

  “Very well. Run along now, children, but do come and visit me again.”

  “Thanks,” Murel said. “Maybe Rory could come up and visit us tomorrow. Would you, Rory? We’ve got a new card game but it takes at least three.”

  Rory looked as if he was about to refuse. He was clearly miffed about the preference his grandma showed for his friends, but it wasn’t as if Ronan and Murel had tried to make her like them. And it didn’t really make a lot of sense that Murel could see either.

  “Please, Rory,” Ronan added. “Marmie has some great vids, and we’ll ask Pet to make us some of her chocolate fudge bomb cookies.”

  “Right you are, mate,” Rory said finally, with a brief version of his usual grin. “I’ll ask the folks.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine, Rory,” Professor Mabo said, waving good-bye as the twins hopped into the flitter.

  That night before they went to sleep, the twins had a swim and played in seal form, as best they could in such a tame environment.

  Did you feel any particles moving around when you changed? Murel asked her brother.

  Maybe I do. Maybe hand particles turning into flipper ones or something, but I never really thought about it. It’s good she knows about this stuff and that she’s our teacher. And I’m glad she likes us because she’s not very nice to her own family, and if she didn’t like us, she could really make us miserable.

  Yeah, but it might be better if she did that than make Rory miserable and think it was all our fault. I’d hate it if Mum or Da acted like they liked some other kid better than they did us.

  Not that they’ve shown any signs that they really do like us recently, Ronan replied. Can you even remember what they look like, when they’re not on the com screen? It’s kind of hard. Sort of like their particles keep shifting around in my head.

  He was joking, but it was one of those jokes that was too true to be funny. It was almost three years since they’d seen their parents in person, or been on Petaybee. He felt tears welling up and tried to choke them down.

  But hey, who needs all that cold and stuff? Here we can make the weather any kind we want, we get to see all kinds of vids and meet all kinds of people. Important people are our teachers, not somebody we’re not supposed to bother. And Marmie has new surprises for us all the time.

  Yeah, that’s right, Murel agreed. It’s great here. No wolves to worry about when we swim, or otter poachers even. Of course, there’s no otters, or track cats, or snow leopards, or curly coats, or even sled dogs or house cats. And the weather isn’t exactly real. And Marmie can’t change into
a seal. But hey, Da can do that, but he stopped doing it with us most of the time, so that doesn’t matter, does it?

  No way. We’re a lot better off here. Our parents were right. They were doing us a big fat favor sending us here.

  Yeah, Murel agreed. That is all so true. Which makes me feel like a real head case because, aw jays, Ronan, I really really miss them.

  Me too. I miss Petaybee. I miss the caves and the rivers and the otters and the other critters and Clodagh and latchkays, and I miss Mum and Da something terrible.

  Me too. But they don’t want us there right now. Maybe when we’re better prepared for life and can handle ourselves better.

  Yeah, like when we’re twenty or something really old like that.

  I want to go home now. I don’t want to wait till I’m twenty.

  Me too.

  They didn’t cry. Murel crawled into her bunk and Ronan into his. Without talking about it, each of them rolled toward the other and held out a hand. They linked fingers and finally fell asleep swapping mind pictures of their favorite things back home. It wasn’t much of a swap, since they’d shared everything from the time they were born, but it was the best comfort they had.

  CHAPTER 14

  ALL I CAN say is that I certainly hope the planet knows what it’s doing,” Yana said to the committee composed of herself, her husband, Dr. Whittaker Fiske—the originator of the terraforming process used on Petaybee—Clodagh, and Dr. Frank Metaxos. Sister Igneous Rock, a geologist and one of the cult of originally misguided religious fanatics who had come to Petaybee thinking to worship it—before the planet declined their worship—was also in attendance.

  “Of course Petaybee knows what He or She or possibly They are doing,” Sister Iggierock chided her. “We should praise Petaybee’s name for its compassion for those among us who need a more temperate zone in which to live. A zone where one need not dress like a polar bear and live in darkness most of the year, as we do now. Your children and your children’s children will be able to live in a place where they can enjoy greenery year round. The entire planet will have a source of nourishment from gardens and farms growing fresh fruits and vegetables—even a broader range of medicinal plants, Clodagh—than is now possible with our limited growing season.”