Freedom’s Choice (19 page)

* * *

Fully accustomed now to its new form, Eosi Mentat Ix was bored. It had returned to pleasures that its weakening former husk had been unable to perform, and now these no longer satisfied its seeking for unusual experiences. The new form had been relatively circumscribed, not having had the training of the young originally chosen from that bloodline.

That was when it remembered the animosity and bitterness of the Catteni mind when it had been subsumed. Ix accessed the memories. A brief exploration would discover if the entity's suspicions had been valid. Ix was somewhat startled to discover that a more powerful satellite had been put in position around the subject planet. The entity's traces grew alarmed within the Mentat as the most recent report was mentally gleaned from those on duty.

The scout ship had disappeared and no trace of it had been found anywhere in Eosi space: it had not refueled at any station, planetary or space. Nor could the satellite find that sort of metal shape on the subject planet. The matter of the wreck of the transport was resolved by the interchange of communications between the KDL and the downed ship. The KDL, the newest of the transport fleet, had taken off after discharging its cargo and had been tracked out of that solar system. By both satellites. And the tape of its final emergency and explosion was on record.

Ix carefully reviewed that tape, the details of the final
moments of the ship's life and the efforts of the crew to remedy the fault. Ix also reviewed the fault in the light of the KDL's sister ships now coming on line and found that such a back surge in the propulsion was indeed a possibility, however improbable.

The Eosi Mentat ordered a search for the log of the KDL, which should be found in the space debris. It was. Within the tiny fraction of Ix's great mentality an infinitesimal scream insisted that such events were suspicious.

Ix screened the orbiting satellite's records and found only the wreck that had been left where it had landed. Then Eosi Mentat Ix was called to a meeting of its peers, to determine what must be done with the increasing problems experienced by Catteni occupying forces on the latest planet they had subjugated. Such continued resistance was unique, even bizarre, and Ix was caught up in deciding what punitive measures to take that would completely solve this problem. However, all Eosi found themselves rather fascinated by the scope and originality of the opposition to their benign rule.

* * *

The general-maintenance orb reached the target planet and found its near space occupied by two technological items: one orbiting in a thirty-hour, total global pattern, and the other geosynchronous. These objects were thoroughly examined before the orb descended to a level at which it could investigate why a homing missile had been dispatched from the command facility without a message. The orb discovered some life-forms resident in the facility, for what purpose it was not programmed to discover, but their presence was noted. It proceeded on its orderly inspection of the agricultural facilities placed around the more arable continents and discovered anomalies throughout a large area, suggesting malfunction on an unprecedented scale of the indigenous equipment. Checking inventory against what should have been idle
at this time of the planet's growing season, it could discover parts of the equipment but not in the usual form. This abnormality was duly noted. There did appear to be more life-forms than the natural propagation of the indigenous species would ordinarily produce. There was no possible way in which such a bovine species could damage, much less alter the machinery that husbanded it. The orb was programmed only for mechanical devices, inventory and supply: it did not examine life-forms. That was another department.

It completed the necessary circuits at the altitude programmed into it for the maximum efficiency of required investigations, sent its findings back to its home world, and continued on its scheduled maintenance cycle.

* * *

The Deski were covering their eyes, cowering, but still managed to report in to their bases that there was the most fearful noise in the air. The boards on both bridges reported a spatial object, traveling at an impossible speed, spinning about Botany at what Marrucci stammered had to be damned near the speed of light. Its manifestation on the bridge boards was of a continuous pattern of light, encompassing Botany.

“Then it can't be Catteni,” replied Rastancil, watching behind Marrucci. “They don't have that capability…”

“Yet,” Marrucci added, sotto voce.

The team at the command post reported a terrifying moment.

“I felt like I was being scanned by ETs,” reported the generally sanguine Colonel Salvinato in a voice that shook noticeably.

“Well, you're not alone. Something's giving us a real going-over,” Rastancil replied, which he hoped would reassure the colonel: his body still tingled from whatever it was that had touched him.

Salvinato reported in later that there were now two
homing devices where there had recently been only one.

“Replacements by matter transmitter?” Rastancil said, condescendingly.

“‘Beam me up, Scotty,'” Marrucci said, and this time he didn't lower his voice. “The Catteni also don't have anything that can do that.”

“That
would
account for how the Farmers' ships managed to load up so fast,” Mitford said, when he was called in to give his interpretation of the curious incident. “I felt it, too, like someone going over me with a mild electrical current.” And then he smiled. “The Farmers have finally noticed us.”

“Do we really want them to?”

Mitford thought that over for a long moment and then shrugged. “Beats me, general,” he said. The generals had taken control of Botany out of his hands, but he still felt the responsibility. “It was the only option I had at the time. Still seems a good one. Only no one hung around long enough to speak to us. So, what happens next?”

Scott called an immediate meeting of as many of those from Camp Rock as had witnessed the fly-past of the Mech Makers'/Farmers' spaceship. Rumors circulated and with each lap of the scanner they doubled in improbability, stupidity, and frightfulness. It was now supposed to have infected everyone with a deadly disease that would kill off the entire population in twenty-four hours. Other rumors included the notion that the Farmers had counted them and would shortly come and round them up, process them in the abattoir, and ship them back as delicacies. Or, all of them were “marked” now and would be enslaved or converted into six-legged loo-cows or night crawlers.

There was certainly tension as the First Drop folk gathered in the mess hall at Narrow, late that afternoon. Benches (made of old machine parts, and these were the last places the arrivals sat) and stools formed a semicircle
around a table at which sat Jim Rastancil, Geoffrey Ainger, Bull Fetterman, Bob Reidenbacker, John Beverly, Pete Easley, Yuri Palit, and the former judge, Iri Bempechat, who had recently taken over the disciplinary duties for work evasion or inadequacy. Ray Scott, with his insufferable aide, Beggs, taking notes and counting noses, rose when it was evident that all who intended to come had arrived.

“I hope none of you have suffered any repercussions from those ludicrous rumors started after our recent visitation,” Scott began, with a rueful expression.

He looked directly at Chuck Mitford, who sat with Zainal on his right and Kris to his left, with Dowdall, Cumber, Esker, Murphy, and Tesco—his original assistants during the retreat from the First Drop field—ranged along the row: defenders who had made very certain that no hystericals got near the sergeant. Other First Drop took the second row, showing solid support. Patti Sue just behind him with Jay Greene, Sandy Areson, Bart, Coo, Pess, Slav, Bass, Matt Su, and Mack Dargle. More from the First Drop spread out behind them: Janet, Anna Bollinger and her son, the Doyles, Joe Latore, and Dick Aarens.

Mitford sat with arms crossed over his chest. “You and me both know the problem with rumors, admiral, but I'm not going into decline over 'em, scanned or not. Especially when everyone'll wake up tomorrow in the same shape they went to sleep in.”

“Yes, that will solve the problem, but not the bigger ones we must seriously consider,” Scott said. He looked at Zainal. “I take it that phenomenal display had nothing to do with either Eosi or Catteni spacecraft?”

“Absolutely nothing. The satellites' reports are going to cause a big stir. I know that much,” Zainal responded. “The Eosi won't like to see what came. They will be very worried. Finally.”

“You were a scout, weren't you, Zainal?” Bull Fetterman
asked. “You ever encountered any traces of them in this galaxy?”

Zainal shook his head. “This is new solar system for Eosi and Catteni. Which is why
we,
” and he emphasized the plural pronoun as he glanced around to include everyone there, “are colonizing it. What I know is that their technology is far superior to Eosi. I also do not fear them as I do Eosi.”

“You don't?” Scott was not the only one surprised by that admission. “How do you arrive at that conclusion, considering what just happened?”

“Because of what just happened,” Zainal said as if that should be obvious. “No one was injured by scanning. The homer was replaced. No, I do not fear the Farmers. A…” and he put his hand flat against his stomach, “a…gut feeling.”

“Does anyone else share this…gut feeling?” Scott asked, more amused than patronizing.

“After seeing that valley, I'm inclined to agree,” Kris said. There was something about the ambiance in the valley that she thought the entire team shared: its tranquillity, carefully saved and preserved by the blocked entrance. “These are not killers, like Eosi. They nourish this planet carefully.”

“Why didn't they get rid of the night crawlers, then, I'd like to know,” Dowdall said sourly.

“Very efficient in clearing up waste and garbage,” Kris said.

“They made safe places to keep something in, or something out. Eosi do not do such things. The Farmers are very different from Eosi…and Catteni.”

Lenny Doyle raised his hand, grinning. “I'd be a bit more apt to believe him if the Mechs…the Farmers…hadn't nearly chopped us up for the crates. But Zainal got us out before they could, and besides, the machines weren't programmed to know the difference between us and loo-cows.”

Dick Aarens made a low disclaimer.

“Would that suggest the Farmers aren't bipedal?” Scott asked.

“No, it only suggests that the Farmers' machines were not programmed to differentiate between warm-blooded species,” Kris said.

“Could the Mechs have been made in the form of their makers?” Janet asked, her eyes flicking around for reassurance.

Lenny began to guffaw at the notion, laughter he tried to stifle when he saw how he offended Janet.

“C'mon, Janet,” Aarens said rudely, “spare us that religious tripe…made in their image? Shit, no! Every single piece of equipment on this planet is a masterpiece of design, using renewable power sources and with easy access for self-repair and maintenance. No one's been able to figure out what sort of alloy was used, but the machinery is practically indestructible.”

“Until you came along,” Janet said angrily, stung by Aarens' snide manner.

“That does not, however,” and Ray Scott jumped in quickly, waving for both of them to sit down, “give us any insights into what course of action the Farmers might take when that orbiting whiz-ball of theirs reports that all the machinery in a good-sized section of their farmlands is no longer in operating condition.”

Kris covered her mouth to hide her grin. She wouldn't have expected that sort of wry assessment from the admiral.

“Let us not digress into useless speculation,” Scott said. “Will the Eosi do anything to Botany while they're studying the reports? Like a blockade?”

“Or at least stop shipping us more colonists?” asked Pete Easley in a plaintive tone.

“That is more likely,” Zainal said.

“What I had more in mind is sending a team to investigate
a planet that has been the last point of call for a scout ship and two transports.”

“What about blaming the ETs for disappearing those ships?” asked Lenny Doyle.

“That would be too much to hope for,” Jim Rastancil said, but he looked thoughtful.

“The Eosi do not care what happens to a colony like this one,” Zainal said. “But they will not like what happened today when they see the reports. The Eosi believe that their technology is best.”

“And they'll find it hard to swallow that it isn't,” Rastancil said, quite satisfied with that turn.

“So, it's the Eosi who are your inventors?” Ainger asked.

“Yes. They supply the plans. Catteni build.”

“You're sure they won't come after Botany because it has attracted such extra…” Rastancil asked, pausing for the appropriate term, “stellar visitations?”

Zainal considered this.

“How the hell can Zainal answer that, general?” Mitford asked with some acrimony. “The Eosi have been supreme in space so far. At least to hear Catteni tell it, and I heard all their tales when I was stuck in Barevi.”

“There will be much worry and many meetings,” Zainal said, obviously enjoying the thought of Eosian consternation. “You,” and he gestured to those around the table, mostly the latest to arrive on Botany, “do not realize how low the Catteni are in their great minds and…selfs.” He looked at Kris to see if he had the right word. “They will spend much effort and time trying to find out who sent that very, very fast space machine.
Not,
” and he paused for emphasis, “why it should appear here around their penal colony.”

“That's a relief,” murmured Anna in the row behind.

“That's some relief,” echoed Rastancil, sitting back.

“So we can put the Eosi response to this in the slow
lane, then,” Scott said, “but I doubt we can ignore the response of the Farmers.”