Homeward Bound Part 32

"I understand." Ttomalss left the fleetlord's room.

The psychologist could go. The problem he had posed would stay. He had to be annoyed that Ka.s.squit would choose her biological heritage over her cultural one. As far as Atvar could tell, though, that was the extent of Ttomalss' annoyance. He didn't have to worry about the effect Ka.s.squit's possible shift of allegiance would have on negotiations with the wild Big Uglies.

Atvar thought about commanding her to stop mating with Frank Coffey. Only the suspicion-the near certainty-that she would ignore such a command held him back. She was no less headstrong than any wild Tosevite. Stubbornness, especially about s.e.xual matters, was in their blood. He also thought about removing her from his party and sending her halfway round the world.

He could do that. He had the authority. But it would mean depriving the Race of Ka.s.squit's insights into the way Tosevites functioned. At the moment, she was demonstrating how they functioned. Atvar wondered if that had even occurred to her. He doubted it. Tosevites let their s.e.xual desires dictate their behavior to a degree the Race found ridiculous and unimaginable-except during mating season, at which time males and females had their minds on other things.

"No," he said, more to himself than to anyone else. He would keep Ka.s.squit here in Sitneff. That might mean he would have to weigh carefully anything she said about the American Tosevites. Fair enough. Weighing data was something he was good at. He realized he would also have to weigh what he got from Ttomalss, who would not be anything close to objective about his former ward.

Sending a message to Tosev 3 was another matter. Atvar no longer had authority to do it on his own. He hadn't since his recall. But altering the Big Uglies' s.e.xuality might be important. He was even willing to go through channels to make sure the idea reached the distant colony.

He was willing, yes, but he wasn't enthusiastic. Years of handling affairs on Tosev 3 himself as the Emperor's autonomous viceroy had left him impatient with the idea of gaining others' permission before acting. He was convinced he knew enough to do what needed doing on his own. Anyone who thought otherwise had to be misguided.

Of course, the entire c.u.mbersome bureaucracy here on Home had eventually decided otherwise. Atvar remained convinced those bureaucrats were fools. When he talked to them here, he did his best not to show it. Ttomalss was right-this was an important idea. It was even more important than getting even with the bunglers who'd recalled him. So he told himself, anyhow.

His Majesty's chief scientific adviser was a female named Yendiss. She heard Atvar out and then asked, "What a.s.surance do you have that researchers can actually discover or synthesize a drug of this sort?"

"a.s.surance? Why, none," Atvar answered. "But I have one contrary a.s.surance to offer you, superior female."

"Oh?" Yendiss said. "And that is?"

"If researchers do not look for a drug of this sort, they are guaranteed not to find it," Atvar said.

In the monitor, Yendiss' eye turrets swung sharply toward him. "Are you being sarcastic, Fleetlord?" she demanded.

"Not at all." Atvar made the negative gesture. "I thought I was stating a simple and obvious truth. If such a drug is there to be found, we ought to find it. Making the Big Uglies more like us would reduce some acute sociological strains on Tosev 3. It would make a.s.similating the Tosevites much easier. Is that not an important consideration?"

The scientific adviser did not answer directly. Instead, she asked, "Do you have any idea how expensive this research might be?"

"No, superior female," Atvar answered resignedly. "But whatever it costs, I am convinced making it will be cheaper than not making it."

"Send me a memorandum," Yendiss said. "Make it as detailed as possible, listing costs and benefits." By the way she said that, she plainly thought costs the more important consideration. "Once I have something in writing, I can submit it to specialists for their a.n.a.lysis and input."

"It shall be done." Atvar broke the connection. He let out a loud, frustrated hiss. The Race had done business like this for a hundred thousand years. That was fine-when the business had nothing to do with the Big Uglies. How many years would go by before the specialists made up their minds? Yendiss wouldn't care. She would say getting the right answer was the most important thing.

Sometimes, though, the right answer seemed obvious. Getting it quickly began to matter. Anyone who'd dealt with Tosev 3 knew that. How many centuries had the Race spent preparing the conquest fleet after its probe showed that the Big Uglies were ripe for the taking? Enough so that, by the time the conquest fleet arrived, the Tosevites weren't ripe any more.

Would this be more of the same? "Not if I have anything to do with it," Atvar declared, and made another call.

Before long, the imperial protocol master looked out of a monitor at him. "I greet you, Fleetlord," Herrep said. "I doubt this is strictly a social call, so what do you want of me?"

"I would like to speak with the Emperor for a little while," Atvar replied. "This has to do with affairs on Tosev 3."

"Are you trying to leap over some functionary who obstructs you?" Herrep asked.

"In a word, yes."

"His Majesty rarely lets himself be used that way," the protocol master warned.

"If he refuses, I am no worse off, though the Race may be," Atvar said. "He does see the Big Uglies as a real problem for the Race, though, which not many here seem to do. Please forward my request to him, if you would be so kind. Let him decide. I believe it is important."

"Very well, Fleetlord," Herrep said. "Please note that I guarantee nothing. The decision is in the grip of his Majesty's fingerclaws."

"I understand, and I thank you," Atvar answered. "Whatever he chooses, I shall accept." Of course I shall. What choice have I got? Of course I shall. What choice have I got?

The protocol master broke the connection. Too late, Atvar realized Herrep hadn't said when he would forward the request to the Emperor or how long it might be till Risson called back-if he did. A delay of a few days wouldn't matter. A delay of a few months or even a few years wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary for the Race. That kind of delay might be unfortunate, but who without firsthand experience of the Big Uglies would realize exactly how unfortunate it might be?

Atvar's telephone hissed frequently. Whenever it did, he hoped it would be the Emperor returning his call. Whenever it wasn't, he felt an unreasonable stab of disappointment. And then, four days after he'd spoken with Herrep, it was. The female on the line spoke without preamble: "a.s.sume the posture of respect so you may hear his Majesty's words."

"It shall be done," Atvar replied, and he did it. The female disappeared from the monitor. The 37th Emperor Risson's image replaced her. Atvar said, "I greet you, your Majesty. I am honored to have the privilege of conversation with you."

"Rise, Fleetlord. Tell me what is on your mind," Risson replied. He sometimes stood on hardly more ceremony than the Big Uglies did. "Herrep seems to think you have come up with something interesting."

"I hope so, your Majesty." Atvar explained.

Risson heard him out, then asked, "What are the chances for success?"

"I would not care to guess about them, because I have no idea," Atvar replied. "But they must be much greater than zero: our biochemists are skilled, and on Tosev 3 they will have studied the Big Uglies' metabolism for many years. If we do not make the effort, what hope do we have of success? That I can guess: none."

"Truth," Risson said. "Very well. You have persuaded me. I shall issue the necessary orders to pa.s.s this idea on to our colony on Tosev 3. Let us see what the colonists do with it. If the Big Uglies were more like us, they would certainly be easier to a.s.similate. We should do all we can to try to bring that about."

"I think you are right, your Majesty, and I thank you very much," Atvar said. "You will also have seen for yourself by now how little inclined toward compromise the wild Big Uglies are. This may eventually give us a new weapon against them, one we can use when we would hesitate to bring out our bombs."

"Let us hope so, anyhow," the Emperor said. "Is there anything more?" When Atvar made the negative gesture, Risson broke the connection. He He does does take the Big Uglies seriously, take the Big Uglies seriously, Atvar thought. Atvar thought. If only more males and females did. If only more males and females did.

Dr. Melanie Blanchard poked and prodded Sam Yeager. She looked in his ears and down his throat. She listened to his chest and lungs. She took his blood pressure. She put on a rubber glove and told him to bend over. "Are you sure we need a doctor here?" he asked.

She laughed. "I've never known anybody who enjoys this," she said. "I do know it's necessary, especially for a man your age. Or do you really want to mess around with the possibility of prostate cancer?"

With a sigh, Sam a.s.sumed the position. The examination was just as much fun as he remembered. He said, "Suppose I've got it. What can you do about it here?"

"X rays, certainly," Dr. Blanchard answered. "Chemotherapy, possibly, if we can get the Race to synthesize the agents we'd need. Or maybe surgery, with Lizard physicians a.s.sisting me. I'm sure some of them would be fascinated." She took off the glove and threw it away. "Doesn't look like we need to worry about that, though."

"Well, good." Sam straightened up and did his best to restore his dignity. "How do I check out?"

"You're pretty good," she said. "I'd like it if your blood pressure were a little lower than 140/90, but that's not bad for a man your age. Not ideal, but not bad. You used to be an athlete, didn't you?"

"A ballplayer," he answered. "Never made the big leagues, but I put in close to twenty years in the minors. You could do that before the Lizards came. I've tried to stay in halfway decent shape since."

"You've done all right," Dr. Blanchard told him. "I wouldn't recommend that you go out and run a marathon, but you seem to be okay for all ordinary use."

"I'll take that," Sam said. "Thanks very much for the checkup-or for most of it, anyhow."

"You're welcome." She started to laugh. Sam raised an eyebrow. She explained, "I started to tell you, 'My pleasure,' but that isn't right. I don't enjoy doing that, no matter how necessary it is."

"Well, good," he said again, and got another laugh from her. She packed up her supplies and walked out of his room. Sam laughed, too, though he was d.a.m.ned if he was sure it was funny. The closest, most intimate physical contact he'd had with a woman since his wife died-and he'd been on the wrong end of a rubber glove. If that wasn't mortifying, he didn't know what would be.

He didn't usually worry about such things. He didn't usually get reminded about them quite so openly, though. He was still a man. His parts did still work. He laughed once more. They would work, anyhow, if he could find himself some company.

Major Coffey had managed. Sam shrugged. No accounting for taste. Ka.s.squit had always fascinated him, but he'd never thought she was especially attractive. He shrugged again. Jonathan would have told him he was wrong-and Karen would have hit Jonathan for telling him that.

Someone knocked on the door. That meant an American stood in the hall. A Lizard would have pressed the b.u.t.ton for the door hisser. Sam looked around. Had Dr. Blanchard forgotten something? he wondered hopefully. He didn't see anything that looked medical. Too bad.

He opened the door. There stood Tom de la Rosa. Sam aimed an accusing forefinger at him. "you're not a beautiful woman," he said. not a beautiful woman," he said.

De la Rosa rubbed his mustache. "With this on my upper lip, I'm not likely to be one, either."

"Well, come on in anyhow," Sam said. "I'll try not to hold it against you."

"I'm so relieved." Tom walked past Yeager and over to the window. "You've got a nicer view than we do. See what you get for being amba.s.sador?"

Sam had come to take the view for granted. Now he looked at it with fresher eyes. It was pretty impressive, in a stark, Southwestern way. "Reminds me a little of Tucson, or maybe Albuquerque."

"Somewhere in there," Tom de la Rosa agreed. "If we don't get what we need here, you know, Tucson and Albuquerque are going to look a lot more like this. They look a lot more like this now than they did when we went into cold sleep."

"I do know that," Sam said. "Arizona and New Mexico are just about perfect country for plants and animals from Home."

"And if they crowd ours out, I don't know how we're going to get rid of them," Tom said. "The Lizards don't show a whole lot of give on this one."

"You've got that wrong," Sam said. De la Rosa sent him a questioning look. He spelled out what he meant: "The Lizards don't show any give at all on this one. As far as they're concerned, they're just making themselves at home-or at Home-on Earth."

De la Rosa winced at the audible capital letter. When he recovered, he said, "But it's not right, dammit. They've got no business imposing their ecology on us."

"Starlings and English sparrows in the United States. And Kentucky bluegra.s.s. And Russian thistle, which is what a lot of tumbleweeds are," Sam said mournfully. "Rats in Hawaii. Mongooses-or is it mongeese?-too. Rabbits and cats and cane toads in Australia. I could go on. It's not as if we haven't done it to ourselves."

"But we didn't know any better. Most of the time we didn't, anyhow," Tom de la Rosa said. "The Race knows perfectly well what it's doing. It knows more about ecology than we'll learn in the next hundred years. The Lizards just don't give a d.a.m.n, and they ought to."

"They say they haven't introduced anything into territory we rule. They say what they do on territory they rule is their business-and if their critters happen to come over the border, they don't mind if we get rid of them."

"Mighty generous of them. They'd tell King Canute he was welcome to hold back the tide, too," Tom said bitterly. "The only thing they wouldn't tell him was how to go about it."

"Well, Tom, here's the question I've got for you," Sam said. "If the Lizards don't want to change their minds-and it doesn't look like they do-is this worth going to war to stop?"

"That's not the point. The point is getting them to stop," de la Rosa said.

Sam shook his head. "No. They don't want to. They don't intend to. They've made that as plain as they possibly can. As far as they're concerned, they're moving into a new neighborhood, and they've brought their dogs and cats and cows and sheep and some of their flowers along with them. They're just making themselves at home."

"Bulls.h.i.t. They understand ecological issues fine. They don't have any trouble at all," Tom said. "Look at the fit they pitched about the rats. Have they caught any besides the first two? It'd serve the Race right if the d.a.m.n things did get loose."

"As far as I know, those are the only ones they've got their hands on," Sam said. "But you still haven't answered my question. Is this something we fight about? Or is it already too late for that? You can't put things back in Pandora's box once they're loose, can you?"

"Probably not." De la Rosa looked as disgusted as he sounded. "But the arid country on Earth-everywhere from Australia to the Sahara to our own Southwest-is never going to be the same. The least we can do is get an agreement out of them not to introduce any more of their species to Earth. That's locking the barn door after the horse is long gone, though."

"I've been over this with Atvar before. He's always said no. I don't think he's going to change his mind." Sam Yeager sighed. He saw Tom's point. He'd seen with his own eyes what creatures from Home were doing in and to the Southwest-and things had only got worse since he went into cold sleep. He sighed again. "Atvar will tell me the Race is as sovereign in the parts of Earth it rules as we are in the USA. He'll say we have no right to interfere in what the Lizards do there. He'll say we complain about being interfered with, but now we're meddling for all we're worth. It's not a bad argument. How am I supposed to answer him?"

"Throw the rats in his face," Tom suggested. "That will get him to understand why we're worried."

"He already understands. He just doesn't care. There's a difference," Sam said. "No matter what happens from our point of view, the Lizards get major benefits by importing their animals and plants. If we try to tell them they can't, we're liable to have to fight to back it up. Is this worth a war? Is this worth a war?"

Tom de la Rosa looked as if he hated him. "You don't make things easy, do you?"

"Atvar's told me the same thing. From him, I take it as a compliment. I'll try to do the same from you," Sam said. "But you still haven't answered my question. The Lizards are changing the planet. I agree with you-that's what they're doing. Do we wreck it to keep them from changing it?"

"That's not a fair way to put things," Tom protested.

"No? That's what it boils down to from here," Sam said. "We can have a damaged ecology, or we can have a planet that glows in the dark. Or else you'll tell me it's not worth a war. But nothing short of war is going to make the Lizards change their policy about this."

Instead of answering, de la Rosa stormed out of the room. Yeager wasn't particularly surprised or particularly disappointed. Tom was a hothead. You needed to be a hothead to get involved in ecological matters. Every so often, though, even hotheads b.u.mped up against the facts of life. Sometimes the cost of stopping a change was higher than the cost of the change itself.

He looked out the window again. He imagined saguaros putting down deep roots here. He imagined owls nesting in the saguaros, and roadrunners scurrying here and there in the shade of the cactuses snapping up whatever little lizardy things they could catch. He imagined sidewinders looping along. He imagined how the Lizards would feel about all of that-especially the ones who had the misfortune to b.u.mp into sidewinders. Would they go to war to keep it from happening? They might.

But it was already happening back on Earth. Too late to stop it now. And, whatever else happened, he couldn't imagine an American colonization fleet crossing the light-years and coming down on Home. The Race had the population to spare for that sort of thing. The USA didn't.

He wondered how much he'd accomplished by coming here. That he'd got here alive was pretty impressive, too. He'd had the audience with the Emperor and the private meeting afterwards. But what had he gained that he couldn't have got from Reffet and Kirel back on Earth? Anything?

If he had, he was hard pressed to see it. He understood Tom de la Rosa's frustration. He had plenty of frustration of his own. The Lizards here on Home were less inclined to compromise than the ones back on Earth had been. They thought they were right, and any miserable Big Ugly had to be wrong.

One thing the flight of the Admiral Peary Admiral Peary had proved: humans could fly between the stars. The Race couldn't ignore that. The Lizards would have to be wondering what else might be on the way. Maybe the colonists back on Earth could radio ahead and let Home know other starships were coming, but maybe not, too. If humans wanted to send secret expeditions, they might be able to. had proved: humans could fly between the stars. The Race couldn't ignore that. The Lizards would have to be wondering what else might be on the way. Maybe the colonists back on Earth could radio ahead and let Home know other starships were coming, but maybe not, too. If humans wanted to send secret expeditions, they might be able to.

Sam grimaced. The Reich Reich might do that. And any German expedition would come with guns not just handy but loaded. The n.a.z.is owed the Lizards for a defeat. After all this time, would they try to pay them back? might do that. And any German expedition would come with guns not just handy but loaded. The n.a.z.is owed the Lizards for a defeat. After all this time, would they try to pay them back?

How am I supposed to know? Sam asked himself. All he knew about what the Sam asked himself. All he knew about what the Reich Reich was like these days, he got from the radio bulletins beamed Homeward by America and by the Lizards themselves. It didn't seem to have changed all that much-and there was one more thing to worry about. was like these days, he got from the radio bulletins beamed Homeward by America and by the Lizards themselves. It didn't seem to have changed all that much-and there was one more thing to worry about.

Whenever Jonathan Yeager saw Ka.s.squit, he wanted to ask her if she was happy. She certainly gave all the signs of it, or as many as she could with a face that didn't show what she was thinking. Frank Coffey seemed pretty happy these days, too. Jonathan had no great urge to ask him if he was. That was none of his business, not unless Coffey felt like making it his business.

Jonathan wondered what the difference was. That he'd been intimate with Ka.s.squit all those years ago? He thought there was more to it than that. He hoped so, anyhow. He had the strong feeling that Major Frank Coffey could take care of himself. He wasn't nearly so sure about Ka.s.squit. She couldn't be a Lizard, however much she wanted to, but she didn't exactly know how to be a human being, either. She was liable to get hurt, or to hurt herself.

And what can you do about it if she does? Jonathan asked himself. The answer to that was only too obvious. He couldn't do a d.a.m.n thing, and he knew it. He also knew Karen would grab the nearest blunt instrument and brain him if he tried. Jonathan asked himself. The answer to that was only too obvious. He couldn't do a d.a.m.n thing, and he knew it. He also knew Karen would grab the nearest blunt instrument and brain him if he tried.

He sighed. He couldn't blame Karen for being antsy about Ka.s.squit. To his wife, Ka.s.squit was The Other Woman, in scarlet letters ten feet high. Ka.s.squit wasn't at her best around Karen, either.

It came as something of a relief when Trir said, "Would any of you Tosevites care for a sightseeing tour today?" at breakfast one morning.

"What sort of sights do you have in mind showing us?" Linda de la Rosa asked.

"Perhaps you would like to go to the Crimson Desert?" the guide said. "It has a wild grandeur unlike any other on Home."

"I want to go," Tom de la Rosa said. "I would like to see what you term a desert on this world, when so much of it would be a desert on Tosev 3."

All the Americans volunteered-even Jonathan's father, who said, "None of the negotiations going on right now will addle if we pause. Pausing may even help some of them." Jonathan knew his dad wasn't happy with the way things were going. He hadn't expected him to come out and say so, though.

Then Ka.s.squit asked, "May I also come? I too would like to see more of Home."

"Yes, Researcher. You are welcome," Trir said. "We will leave from in front of the hotel in half a daytenth. All of you should bring whatever you require for an overnight stay."

"The Crimson Desert," Karen said musingly. "I wonder what it will be like."

"Hot," Jonathan said. His wife gave him a sardonic nod. Had they been going to the desert on Earth, he would have warned her to take along a cream that prevented sunburn. As a redhead, she needed to worry about it more than most people did. But Tau Ceti wasn't the sun. It put out a lot less ultraviolet radiation. Even in the warmest weather, sunburn wasn't so much of a worry here.