Worlds Apart (16 page)

It was, but Phyllis's eyes widened involuntarily at that. That men enjoyed sex was an open secret, but that women could was a new idea entirely, to her.

"This is a transparent bluff, sir" said Sloan confidently, forced to support the plan for which he had taken responsibility.

"We'll see," said Corey. "Mathers!'

"I had at least expected the rest of you to go," said Toni. "But it doesn't matter."

4

Phyllis was delighted. It had never occurred to her that Toni would help. Mathers was now definitely suspected of non-Clade emotions and inclinations. She had seen that in the faces Of Sloan and Corey. Mathers was too young, perhaps, too imperfectly trained. He couldn't help himself.

But soberly as she lay in her bunk that night she realized, not for the first time, that she could never be safe -- only safer. She wished there was trust among Clades, as there seemed to be among Mundans. But how could there be? Today she almost trusted Sloan; tomorrow Sloan might be her worst enemy -- quite possibly would be, after the failure of the scheme she had made him suggest. Fenham she clearly could never trust, for she was in Fenham's footsteps, her successor if one was needed. Mathers -- well, Mathers at the moment would be unwise to make himself conspicuous. But in a week's time she might be forced to bargain with Mathers to ensure her own survival.

She wished openly, unreservedly in her own mind, that the Clade system was more like that of the Mundans. Toni and Pertwee had hardly known fear. Among the Mundans a woman could afford to be nobody, it seemed, and still be happy and free of this constant striving to be ahead of one's neighbor, in case the neighbor slipped a knife in one's ribs.

She wrenched her mind back from such thoughts with self-derision. What did she know of Mundis and the Mundans? They were weak, and the Clades were strong. The Mundans would die, and the Clades survive, ever more strongly.

Now that they knew positively that Earth was gone, with the whole solar system, and that no stronger force yet would ever come out -- as if there had ever been any doubt of that -- humanity must be welded into one strong, virile, conquering unit. The galaxy was man's.

And high in this hierarchy would be Phyllis Barton, always clawing her way up, until someone clawed her down. When she ceased to strive and fight and climb, she would be dead.

VII

1

Pertwee came across the fields to Lemon, and thus was seen nearly an hour before he actually reached the town. He hadn't planned his approach so as announce himself like that. As the town was in the south end of the valley, it was the natural way for him to come. But he had considered the implications. He wanted to know as soon as possible what he had to face, and this was as good a way as any. Lemon had time to prepare and give him precisely the kind of reception it wanted to give him. He didn't hurry. He had done over thirty miles that day, and it was still full daylight.

When he was still a long way from the town, he saw two people come out to meet him. Ruby and Jack? He could see, long before he recognized them, that they were not founders. But the man was taller than the woman -- no, it wasn't Jack. He was only fourteen and small for his age.

Only when they were quite close did he recognize Rog Foley and Alice Bentley -- for he wasn't expecting to see either of them. What concern he was of theirs he couldn't see. Unless -- Toni had once been married to Rog, hadn't she? And Alice could be Toni's friend, though from what he knew of them both it didn't seem at all likely.

The three of them met. "You've left Toni behind as a hostage?" Rog inquired bluntly.

"No. The crew of a second ship from Earth has taken her prisoner," replied Pertwee, equally bluntly.

Alice caught her breath, but Rog merely nodded. "Let's sit down and talk about it," he said. "You look tired."

"Here?" said Pertwee. "Why don't we go on to Lemon~"

"Because we wouldn't get any talking done, There'd be crazy people screaming at you and accusing you of murdering Toni and suggesting we lynch you -- just a few, but the ones who make the most noise. They wouldn't mean it, but they'd say it all the same. And even some of the sensible people would want to lock you up instead of hearing the story. Well, let's have it."

He and Alice had squatted comfortably in the field. Pertwee still didn't understand, but he appreciated their confidence and coolness. Something had happened since he left Lemon, apparently. These two counted more than they had when he left.

He told them the main facts, briefly. They didn't even ask questions. Rog didn't say a word until Pertwee stopped speaking.

Then: "You're certain you weren't followed?" he asked.

"I'm certain I was. I've seen the Clades six times since I escaped, the last only two days ago. But then it was well to the north. I think it's been combing the ground in a tight spiral from the place I escaped, looking for me and for Lemon. If you mean, could anyone have followed me on foot, no. Twice when I was in a safe place I lit moor fires in case there was anyone in my tracks."

"Wouldn't that give the ship a clue?"

"No. Further north there are more fires than we're used to here. I expect flying over the moors they'd see two or three every day. Oh . . . "

For the first time, so easily had they accepted his story, he remembered the only proof he had that it had happened. He drew out the Clade gun carefully and laid it gently on the grass.

Rog and Alice looked at it curiously. "Have you fired it?" Rog asked.

"No, I didn't dare. Perhaps it won't work. It was in a fire. Handle it carefully."

"Keep it," said Rog. "It proves your story."

Pertwee frowned, puzzled. Whatever kind of reception he had expected, it wasn't this.

"Tell us everything that happened since you saw this ship," said Alice. "The whole story."

"Hadn't you better tell me something first?" suggested Pertwee. "What's happened since Toni and I went away -- a revolution? Have you killed off the older people?"

"No. I'd like to kill off Boyne and Robertson and Beaton and Watters, but I imagine you felt like that too in your time."

"I did." Pertwee looked at Rog with new interest. "Are you the new President? Was it a bloodless revolution?"

"Not even that," Alice told him, "thank goodness. No, Rog isn't the President officially, because we haven't voted him in. But in practice he is. Now how about my question?"

Prompted by Rog and Alice, Pertwee told everything he knew about the Clades -- all he had seen, every word that had been said, how it had been said, how the Clades moved, how they looked.

"You're right, Rog," Alice observed. "They come from Secundis, all right."

Pertwee started. "You know about them?"

"They passed here," Rog told him, "probably just before they picked you and Toni up. No, they couldn't have seen anything."

"But what's this about Secundis?"

"They must have a base there. Put two and two together. A few days after we see Sol explode, they're here. They haven't been waiting in space --- not if they're as strong physically as you say. Instead of living in free fall, thay've been coping with a greater gravity than that of Mundis -- Secondis, in fact."

Pertwee found his respect for Foley growing. Alice too. They could separate the wheat from the chaff, and they knew what to do with it when they had it. A big part of the impression they had made on him was in their expression, the way they talked, the rapidity with which they accepted things. He realized that he had expected to have to insist that what he was saying was true, to repeat everything, to explain not only how things were, but how they could be so, excuse himself for abandoning Toni before they would listen to the rest . . .

Instead, Alice and Rog had not merely understood what he was saying as quickly as he said it, apparently never thinking of disbelieving it, but had worked out, on less data, something which hadn't occurred to him.

"Yes, Secundis," he said. "Of course. Now that I think of it, everything they said inplied they had a base somewhere else."

"Do they have any Gap?" Rog asked.

"I can't be certain, but I don't think so. I saw no one under eighteen or so, but the children could have been hidden away somewhere . . . "

"Sterility?" Rog suggested.

"No," Pertwee said, "I don't think so. Their cycle is so firmly based on childbearing -- like ours, but in a very different way -- that there must /be/ childbearing."

Rog nodded. He got up easily.

"Let's go and see the others," he said. "You wondered if we'd killed off your contemporaries, Pertwee. On the contrary, we're going straight to talk this over with Alice's father."

"That's wise," said Pertwee.

"I wanted to get the information from you first. Because I can't be sure we'll be able to talk in peace for hours yet."

"There may not be much time."

"I know it. Are you sure you told us everything?"

Bouncing around in Pertwee's mind like a roulette ball was something he hadn't mentioned. He couldn't make it stay still until he identified it.

"A possible weakness in the Clades?" Rog suggested. "Something you noticed but didn't understand about them? Something about Toni?"

"I don't usually have difficulty remembering things," murmured Pertwee in self-annoyance.

"Could it be," said Alice, "that it was something you don't want to remember?"

"It was," said Pertwee without triumph. "It was something Corey said. He told me that all of us -- all the founder colonists who came on the Mudis -- had been strongly conditioned against atomic power. I think it's true, though I don't remember anything like that -- for it gives me an uncomfortable feeling even to think about it."

"Might be useful to the Clades," Rog murmured thoughtfully. Don't see how it's useful to us, though. I'm not surprised. The old folks always seemed psychotic about atomic power. But where does it get us?"

Pertwee saw as they approached the outermost houses of Lemon how and why they had been allowed to have their talk in peace. Fred Mitchell, Dick Smith, June, Abner Carliss and -- yes, Ruby, his daughter, were all drawn up in a sort of guard to prevent anyone going out to them. They kept it up as Rog and Alice escorted Pertwee in, and he was able to see a little of their method and guess the rest.

People who were easily cowed were told peremptorily to keep back, and that worked, for it was used only with people on whom it would. People who liked to have reasons were given a reason they would probably accept -- Rog and Alice were acting friendly and getting all they could out of Pertwee before the party turned rough; or preparations were being made to show John Pertwee what everyone thought of him, but they weren't ready yet; or Pertwee had a gun, and Rog and Alice were trying to get it away from him. And people who would understand the real issues were co-opted into the task force -- Mary Bentley and Brad Hulton joined it as Pertwee watched, reassuring him somewhat. He hadn't been quite sure that Lemon hadn't had a youth-and-age war, or that it was over.

Alice darted ahead and spoke rapidly to Fred while Pertwee and Rog were still approaching. Then she ran back. Pertwee saw Fred speak to Dick, and Dick to Brad and Mary; now presumably the reasonable element was not only together, but had some inkling of the true state of affairs.

As Pertwee came level with the crowd, flanked by Alice and Rog, an angry shout rang out: "Here comes the dirty baby snatcher!"

For a moment it looked as if Rog's plan might fail and Pertwee's arrival would result in violence. There were about a hundred people around, despite the efforts of Rog's party to send people home.

Beside Pertwee, Rog laughed. Dick and Fred and Mary grinned. As the free anger in the air came a little of the way towards good-humor, most people agreed you could hardly blame anyone for snatching a baby like Toni if he could, especially when Brad said so, in the slow, easy tones that carried so far.

Someone else shouted something, but it was drowned by a bellow in what sounded like Abner's voice: "Bet you're going to have a sister, Ruby!" This was greeted by the low chuckle that greets any public mention of procreation or copulation. There was no further demonstration. Rog and his party had turned what might have become blood-lust into mild amusement and realization that there was another side to the story.

2

Phyllis saluted. "Excuse me, sir, but am I free to use any certain method of getting the location of Lemon from the prisoner, provided she isn't permanently harmed?"

"Any /certain/ method, lieutenant?" demanded Corey. "I should like to hear it."

He was rather stiffer with Phyllis than he would have been with a male lieutenant.

Theoretically, women should have remained on their subservient level among the Clades -- there should have been no possible way for them to climb to the anomalous level of Fenham and Phyllis and Dr. Heneker. And certainly for the most part they stayed down.

Women had few rights and would have been unwise to insist too strongly on those they had. The fact of their practically permanent pregnancy alone made competition impossible, and kept them out of any important job; but in addition to that, the disciplinary pattern of the Clades accorded females only the right to live and bear children, the one dependent on the other.

There should not have been high-ranking women officers; they were an excrescence on the system. The pattern was neat and logical and utilitarian, but for the existence of lieutenants Fenham and Barton, Dr. Heneker, Professor Jenny Mueller, and a few others.

The trouble arose because, back on Earth, the totalitarian, militarist regime had been imposed by necessity on a social order in which there was almost complete equality between the sexes. At other times women, agreed to be an inferior form of life anyway, had merely been pushed a little lower, in such circumstwnces. But this time it wasn't possible, at any rate in a short time. Some women were /needed/. Jenny Mueller was a hydroponics expert. On the journey from Earth it was on her, more than anyone else, that the Clades depended for its daily bread, so to speak.

Dr. Sarah Heneker was a better man for the job of M.O. than the men. Phyllis Barton had grown up as an unwanted, unimportant girl child, merely a pair of hands to labor until she was old enough to bear male Clades. But she contrived to be noticed, to be strong, hard, brave, infallible. Alone she couldn't have climbed from the level of beast to human being. Since, however, Mueller and Heneker and Fenham were already recognized as human beings, Phyllis was recognized too -- grudgingly. It was all she needed. She had drive. She was efficient.