02. The Shadow Dancers (37 page)

From the looks of the kids, they didn't seem exactly married to their own matched partners. Maybe they was, maybe they wasn't, when the kids showed up, but not lately.

Language was a problem right off, but one of the men, who looked older, though they all looked damned good, at least knowed what English was and knew a language close enough that we could talk with practice, at least on a simple level. With time we could come to some kinda compromise, I felt, but that worried me. If we had that kinda time, we was in deep shit.

We had the time. Weeks, in fact, to kinda settle in and get the feel of the place. There wasn't much work to do 'cept cleanin' up a bit, and gettin' used to the idea of a pit toilet and a creek for runnin' water, but we managed. The women, all pregnant, seemed almost relieved at our arrival. They didn't get the urge as bad, but the men did, and we kinda took some of the pressure off.

And, real hard but real dedicated-like, we got to the point where we could get complicated ideas across to each other, at least the guy who spoke that sorta English, who said his name was Avong Simran, one of the golden people. A real scientist-he showed us his old field expedition gear, much
of it still powered and workin' but not much used these days and not much useful day to day here.

They was an exploiter team, the six of them, sent out by the Company like so many to scout out a bunch of worlds in an area where the Company thought there was somethin' possibly worth its while. They was only scouts, the early explorers, but they did a lot of the original work. Each had a specialty-geology, anthropology, two different biology people, one for plants and one for animals, general physics, and general chemistry. They was on the track of some rare trace element, whatever that is, that was valuable to the Company in runnin' its portable gear and which didn't seem all that common among the worlds, and they was like them dudes who go out searchin' for oil, diggin' here, then there, till they hit a gusher. This was maybe the twentieth world they'd looked at in a row, and all the signs said that in the next few worlds this stuff they was lookin' for, which was made in some natural process not real common and takin' millions of years, was there in goodly amounts.

They was kinda surprised to find the folks here so primitive; their near identical twins in some of the other worlds were pretty well advanced. They set up a base camp near this town, adjusted their gear so they had some language ability with these big dudes-they could understand it, but no Type Zero human had all the guts needed to talk it right-and settled in to make their search. In 'bout a month and a half they found some of it in the hills nearby and was all ready to call in more experts with better equipment and move on when all of a sudden the real peaceful folk of this world just went nuts.

For nine days and nights, there was a near orgy of rape and constant sex and not much else, day in and day out. They were not immune. Each of the women got it at least once from one of them big suckers before it was over. Even the men weren't immune; they got raped by these Type One women just the same, drippin' stuff. You don't get much of a hard-on like that, but they had theirs shoved up holes anyways and got covered with wet.

Then, just as suddenly, it was all over and everybody was peaceful and lovin' and kind as before. None of the Type Zeros was in any condition to walk or ride all the way to the
force point for weeks, and a couple had broken bones and all was wall-to-wall bruises, but by the time things started to heal they began to see the changes in themselves. We knew the routine real well. They was hooked. They was also smart enough to figure out that they'd caught
somethin',
and somethin' real dangerous to others, from the local folks. They got up to the force point and sent a "trouble- dangerous infection" message up the line to the Exploration and Exploitation Division, then set out to study the thing even as it changed and held them.

Trouble was, they was an advance party and not a medical man among 'em. Their lab gear was set up for explorin' and survival, not complicated medical studies. The Company-at least they thought it was-sent some stuff that helped, but there was a limit to what they could do. Finally, they decided that two of 'em would set off toward a quarantine area down toward headquarters to be studied. You can guess what happened. They barely made it back in time to save their own lives and sanity, and even now that couple was showin' some lingerin' effects of damage.

They sent all sorts of samples back-blood, urine, even semen-and eventually they got their answer. Some kinda virus of unknown design and construction, they was told. Probably incurable at this stage without damagin' the host. However, it had real possibilities for somethin'. No, they didn't know for what, or why the Company seemed so interested, but that wasn't their job or place. Could the native males be induced by trade goods and ideas to give semen? Well, it turned out they could. Even though they was only real interested in sex once a year durin' that mad orgy time, they could get it up if they had to. It was a hell of a business, but it kept the stranded team in touch with the Company and civilization, gave 'em a feelin' it weren't no total tragedy, and gave 'em a real chance to study this civilization and people.

It took 'em a long time to get the link to the rainbow weed, even though it was right under their noses. You just don't think of a disease that lives off humans needin' somethin' from a plant. The biologists finally figured it after 'bout a year or more when they started seein' other connections between the lower animals and plants of the world. They sent samples and loads of seeds up as part of their studies.

They also studied the people here and compared it to themselves. You'd think that after that orgy time every female would get pregnant, but only a fraction of them did in any given year. The birth rate was low, but the life expectancy was very long. Still and all, in some ways it was a culture without a lot of the shit that tore us apart. Men and women did all the same jobs equally. They didn't have no marriages or stuff, since what was the point of even developin' it, all things considered, but they had a real sense of tribe and community. Weren't no social classes, neither, 'cause when you had a period of time every year when everybody was screwin' everybody else there just was no way to keep no royal families pure. No races, either. Since everybody bred with everybody any real differences got averaged out maybe thousands of years ago. No wars, neither. They had no real idea of private property.

But there was a price. There wasn't much in the way of development, invention, real progress. They got to a point the scientists called Bronze Age culture, and stopped. Guess they just didn't need to go no further. In the same time our ancestors went from Bible times to television and space travel and computers, and the golden people developed all that fancy futuristic shit and the Labyrinth, they maybe invented a better saddle and a better plow.

It didn't seem fair, but it seems like all our warfare and jealousy and hatreds and divisions was the thing that caused real progress, too. If you got rid of all the bad things 'bout human bein's, you didn't go nowheres. Nasty, divisive, warring civilizations with territories and jealousies and kings and all did best, if they didn't destroy each other, which was the odds 'bout half the time. On that scale, them golden people who founded the Company must have been real sweethearts. And I thought
we
was bad!

I tried to explain what was goin' on with what they was sendin' back down the Labyrinth. They didn't really want to believe it, and they didn't like the idea of bein' used that much, but they seemed to care a lot more that somebody'd found a way to live with it back there than with the idea that it was gonna be used to destroy the Company. I guess if you work for a Company that treats you like shit, you don't give a damn what happens to it. They worked for the Company 'cause it had the Labyrinth and the only ticket to what they'd all wanted to do. They sure didn't have no love for it, though.

Since the demands for semen had stopped and most business with the Company stopped, they figured the high-tech boys had figured a way not to need 'em anymore. That was fine with them, so long as they was stuck, but they was still havin' a real tough time convincin' the locals that they didn't need it no more and that they had nothin' to trade for it. I guess that's what the old blowhard we met was complainin' to us about.

They hadn't figured on kids, neither, but it was kinda inevitable when you had to do it every day, sometimes more than once, and the chemicals they used to prevent it was long gone. Unless that juice done more to us than we knew, though, there wouldn't be no black babies around. Still, it was kinda nice to see them little kids, hold 'em, play with 'em. Even Brandy Two, who never let down her hard shell, really took to 'em.

Still, the little colony was just markin' time here. This wasn't their world no more than it was ours, and they didn't really have much place in it. They was just doin' what they could, livin' day by day, and not lookin' much beyond the moment.

Five weeks or so after we got there, we had visitors.

They came in white suits with space helmet type gear and air packs and all the rest. We told 'em they wouldn't have no trouble if they just all kept their pants on all the time and didn't stick around another month and a half until the locals went after everything alive. One of 'em was Bill Markham, and I was never so happy to see nobody in my whole life 'cept Sam.

"I look pretty healthy for a dead man," he admitted to me. "After all, Sam killed me in a pretty fancy car accident about two weeks ago. Made all the papers. I'm getting a little tired of rescuing you from these worlds, though. We have to stop meeting like this."

"You got 'em, then?"

"No. Not yet. Until we were able to analyze that plant we got samples of from that safe world where you two were held there wasn't any way. Now, however, we're ready to act. Don't worry, though. We're pretty well alerted to what they're trying to do and in a very short time, with all the knowledge and technology of the Center, we've learned a lot about this bug. We're setting up the climax now. I thought you'd want in on it."

"Would I! But-where's Sam?"

Markham cleared his throat. "You want the truth?" The way he said it I was afraid somethin' happened to Sam.

"Yeah, Bill. Straight."

"Brandy-Sam's real broken up about all this, no matter what act he put on for you. I'm not sure he can take seeing you much more. You wanted the truth, you got it. To be perfectly frank, the only reason I think he's kept on living was to wrap up this case. I wouldn't give fifty cents for his future once it's closed."

"Not Sam," I responded. "I can't believe that."

"You think he's so much stronger than you? That he rescued you from the depths? You rescued each other. You never believed that, but it's true. In his own way, he needs you as much as you needed him. Just remember what you were like when you thought he was good as dead. Listless, aimless, nothing to live for-you finally decided that it didn't matter if you got hooked, even killed. Like him, you had only the case and you didn't give a damn about yourself or what happened during or after. I have never seen two people so absolutely unlike in all the superficial ways who were so identical underneath. He's not so tough deep down. Maybe, somehow, he could cope with your death, although I'm not too sure of that, but he could never stand to live knowing that you were alive, too. It would tear him to pieces."

"But-I still love him! I'd go back to him!"

"Sure. You'd go back to him, but like this. It'd be like having a wild, promiscuous, totally uninhibited daughter in the house beyond control, not a wife, partner, and lover. I don't know how much ideas of right and wrong, good and evil, wild and limited, you retain, but there's no room the way you are for compromises, self-sacrifice, or selflessness. I
think he could take you crippled, or paralyzed, better than this." He sighed. "Well, we better get things and people all packed up and ready to move here. We're on a tight schedule."

"Bill, I-"

"Save it. It can wait. It's between you and Sam, nobody else. You are all under technical arrest, since you're part of the substantial case we're building here."

"Damn it, you shoulda come sooner!"

"We did. You forget that time runs at different rates in many of these worlds. You been here-what? Five, six weeks? But it's only been four days of my time, subjectively, and two of those were spent with computer experts sorting out the garbage from the signals and tracing you here. They have a pretty powerful and clever jammer there. I'd love to get a look at one. If we hadn't had two of you giving off the same identical signal to reinforce it, we'd never have found you."

"Bill-what happens now? To me, I mean?"

"We have essence du rainbow weed in a shot capsule. With a team working here, I think we can probably get enough to last a very long time, until we can isolate and duplicate what it is in these plants here that makes them different from their twins and siblings on other worlds. We'll be taking transports back, and then you'll be extensively debriefed. Then we'll spring our own little trap and try to wrap this up."

"No-that ain't what I meant. After that."

"We'll take you-and your twin-to any home world you want. Yours, hers, it doesn't matter. There's still over four million in the bank. You get half, and you can split it with her if you want. We'll supply you with whatever amount of this junk you need as long as you need it. You'll have money and a supply, you'll have at least fifty years before you even start to look or feel middle-aged, or so they're theorizing now, and nobody pulling your strings unless you want it. You'll have a ball."

"Yeah," I sighed. "We'll have a ball." At the cost of losing Sam.

11.

A Party at Mayar Eldrith's

Nobody who didn't know and understand Sam Horowitz wouldn't'a guessed that he was depressed, upset, or anything but in heaven that evenin'. And it weren't faked or nothin'; he really was supercharged and as excited as a little kid, and he would be until this all was done. Only then, maybe a few days later, would he come crashin' down. That was the bottom line for me; this was the climax of his whole life, and once you done passed the climax, baby, and there's nobody around to share with and care about, what's the use of livin'?