Date: 2012-12-19 08:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction
Description: A thought-provoking tale of female robots and sentient animals by a New York Times –bestselling author. Elasa the robot’s friend Mona exchanges to the colony planet to occupy the body of a woman five months pregnant. Even so, she gets more than she bargained for, as she works with a precognitive lamb.
Publisher: Open Road Media

Fly Trap

Piers Anthony

Contents

1.Exchange

2.Lamb

3.Mission

4.Earth

5.Ogre

6.Vampires

7.Storm

8.Wether

Author’s Notes

Chapter 1:

Exchange

Mona sat on the chair, holding Elasa's baby son Bela on her lap. The tech counted down from ten. Would this really work?

To quell her nervousness, she quickly reviewed where she was going, what she was doing, and whom she would meet. Her father was a high-power lawyer and she hoped to follow in his footsteps and seemed to have the talent for it. But she also wanted to be an ordinary anonymous housewife with children and a placid life. The two had seemed to be mutually incompatible, until she had learned of the student exchange program between Earth and its colony planet Jones. Travel between them by spaceship took six months, but by switching host bodies the exchange could be instant. She had volunteered to host a young woman who came to Earth to study higher math. Mona would in turn occupy the woman's body on the colony, and study the sheep there, though she knew virtually nothing about sheep. Because the sheep were said to be precognitive and somewhat telepathic; it was uncertain whether these were two powers or one merged power, or whether it was mere legend. But many of the natives believed in it, and if such a thing could be confirmed it just might be the breakthrough of the century. Imagine a lawyer who could read minds or see the future!

But there were constraints. The colony planet was primitive, the sheep were said to be wild and dangerous, no person's pets, and the colony host's body was five months pregnant. That was why the position had been open; few women wanted to take over some other woman's body for six months, birth her baby, then return to Earth alone. Yet in its fashion this appealed to both Mona's desires: cutting edge legal exploration and simple homemaking.

So here she was, about to occupy an alien host and meet the related colony family, said to be turnip farmers who had not been enamored of the way their son's body had been used by the Earth man to associate with a local girl and make her pregnant. That was understandable, but now Mona would be the one to have to handle the emotional fallout. They would be superficially polite, of course, but the undercurrent would be corrosive. Yet she would be dependent on their largess, at least in the beginning.

Well, she had been in difficult situations before. She would handle this. She hoped.

Then the room changed. So did her body. She was now significantly smaller, all around, with one exception: her belly was five months pregnant. It was as if the baby she held on her lap had jumped inside her. “Oh!” she exclaimed, surprised despite her knowledge that this would be the case.

“Miss Maverick?” a male voice inquired.

She looked up. He was a handsome older man in coveralls. Beside him stood a matching woman, and a little apart was a young man. “I am,” Mona said.

“I am Brett Peterson, and this is my wife Cora,” he said. “And this is our son Brian, who returned to us yesterday.”

“Brian,” Mona said. “Shep's colony host.” The exchanging Earthman had been Shepherd; she had met him briefly on Earth.

“Yes,” the young man said.

Mona glanced down. “The genetic father of the baby within this body.”

“Yes,” Brian said. “But it is Shepherd's baby.”

“I understand, believe me,” Mona said. “I conceived a baby for my friend Elasa, by her husband. Genetics is only part of it.” A tiny part; there had been far more of a story there, for Elasa was a humanoid robot.

“We thought it better to make the exchange here,” the woman said. “Shep and Elen were living apart from us, but things are changed.”

“I am not Elen,” Mona agreed. She glanced at Brian. “I am not anyone's wife.”

“You are welcome to remain here,” Cora said. “We feel a certain responsibility. But--” She broke off uncertainly.

“But the villagers don't know about the exchange,” Mona finished for her. “They think Brian and I remain a couple.”

“Not exactly,” Brett said. “They know about the exchanges. That Shep has returned to Earth, and Elen is going with him. But despite that, they do still see the two of you as a couple. Because of the pregnancy.”

Mona had had little time to work this out before the exchange, but it had crossed her mind. “I am not Elen, and Brian is not Shep. But we are conservators of their relationship, and of their baby, who knows only the bodies. In six months they will resume as a couple. I believe it is best to maintain the semblance during the interim.”

“You are willing to remain living with Brian?” Cora asked, sensitive as a woman could be to the nuances.

“Yes.” Mona smiled briefly. “It isn't as though our bodies do not know each other, and when the baby comes, those bodies should be together.” She glanced at Brian. “If you are amenable.”

The young man was plainly taken aback. “I really don't know you or Elen,” he said. “That relationship started while I was on Earth. I first saw Elen yesterday.”

“So this is as unfamiliar to you as it is to me,” Mona said. “But surely she told you about their relationship, apart from the baby.”

“She told me that they traveled to make musical presentations,” Brian said.

“Indeed they did,” Brett said warmly. “I was not keen on their association at first, but Elen won me over. She's a lovely, talented, dedicated elf.” He caught himself. “Young woman.”

“Elf?” Mona asked alertly.

“In our time on Colony Planet Jones, we have separated into somewhat distinct races or subspecies,” Brett said, clearly feeling awkward. “We don't associate much. I understand that Elen did not want to travel with Shep, let alone have a romantic relationship with him, but the sheep required it.” He smiled, embarrassed. “Obviously the two were sufficiently compatible.”

“The sheep,” Mona said. “I understand they are telepathic and precognitive. That's why I came. I want to study those psionic abilities.”

“That may not be easy,” Brian said. “The sheep here are not like those of Earth. They are wild and dangerous, and no one approaches them unless they will it.”

“So I understand. Yet Shep and Elen did.”

“The sheep came for them,” Brett said. “That is quite another matter.”

“And the sheep regard us as a couple?”

“They attended the wedding,” Cora said fondly. “That was a surprise.”

Mona nodded. “Then I think we had better remain a couple. That will make it easier to approach the sheep.”

“You can't approach the sheep!” Brett protested. “You couldn't even find them, and if you did, they would drive you away.”

Mona saw already that the elders were conservative about more than young romance. It would be better to make her case directly to their son Brian. She stood up. “Brian, if you will, please take me to our house.”

Brian closed his open mouth and approached her. “Yes, if you say so.”

Brett spread his hands. “Take care of her, son. Don't let her get in trouble.”

“No danger of that,” Brian said, now briefly amused.

“He means the sheep,” Cora said. “Don't let her run afoul of them.”

They walked out of the house. Mona paused. There was a huge ugly bird and a giant serpent. “Oh!”

“She and Elen had company,” Brian explained. “The sheep recruited them too. This is the Vulture and the Python. They are wild, but committed to Elen. They were in the house when I returned, then stayed with Elen until just before she exchanged with you. My folks say we can trust them.”

“I confess this is stranger than I anticipated,” Mona said. “But let's see.” She stepped toward the vulture, extending her hand. “I am not Elen,” she said.

The bird sniffed her hand, but did not react otherwise. Mona presumed that was good news.

She turned to the python. “How do you do?”

The huge snake also sniffed her hand, and did not react. That was better news.

Then the two creatures set off, moving away from the residence.

“They are going to our house,” Brian said. “We'll follow them.”

“Of course,” Mona agreed, as if this were routine.

“About our living together,” Brian said as they walked through the village. “We don't know each other. Shep and Elen are married, but--”

“You have no idea what married life is like,” Mona said. “You don't know what to say or do, even if its only imitation.”

“Yes. I've seen my folks, but that doesn't seem to help. Shep and Elen's place is small. I saw it yesterday. I—there's only one bathroom there. One bed.”

Mona gazed straight ahead. “Are you blushing?”

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“And you think all the villagers are looking at us, with our menagerie.”

“Yeah. They know about the animals, but--”

She took his hand. “We're on display. We're a couple.”

“I guess. But we don't have to--”

“Yes we do. We must reassure them that nothing really has changed.” She squeezed his fingers.

“Oh. Maybe so.”

They walked on, holding hands. No villager seemed to notice. That meant that others accepted the status quo.

They reached the house. The Vulture and Python entered it first, verifying its emptiness, then emerged and settled down outside. Brian and Mona entered. It was indeed small, barely comfortable for a couple, uncomfortable for two people who were not a couple. “We'll share,” Mona said.

“Share?”

“Brian, we can't maintain fully separate identities in confinement like this. We'll share the bed and bathroom. We'll see each other naked. Couples do.”

“I—I don't understand.”

“You have seen a bare woman before?”

“Yes, once.”

“Just not a pregnant one.”

“Yes. Not.”

“I'll break the ice. You sit on the bed and watch.”

He sat on the bed, plainly bewildered.

Mona shed her shoes, then slowly stripped off her homespun colony shirt, then her bra. “Don't look away,” she said.

“But--”

“Precisely.” She waited until his reluctant eyes were on her. She drew down her skirt, then her panties. She turned around once, showing him every facet. The elf actually had an excellent little body, apart from the pregnancy. “You'll see me like this every day when I wash up. You'll get used to it. It will be routine.”

“Routine,” he echoed numbly.

“Now your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Strip. You'll be washing up too.”

“I—I can't,” he said, blushing furiously.

“Because you have an erection?”

What could he do but admit it? “Yeah. You're pregnant, but you're still some woman.”

She sat down beside him. “I am indeed pregnant. I don't want to have vaginal sex. But there are other ways.”

“Other ways?”

“Such as oral. Strip and I will demonstrate.”

“No!” he said, shocked.

“I'm sure Shep and Elen did it. They would have maintained a complete relationship, regardless of her pregnancy. We must also.”

“But we don't even know each other!”

“I am trying to remedy that. We are not going to exist this close to each other for six months as siblings. I mean to establish our ease with each other at the outset, so there'll be no subsequent awkwardness.”

“I—can't--”

“You do see the need,” she said firmly.

“I guess so.”

“Very well. Remove your clothing and lie on your back on the bed. You won't have to move. I will take it from there.”

Silently he obeyed. He lay with his stiff member above, his eyes determinedly closed. She addressed it, and in moments had his emphatic climax.

“Now you can relax,” she said. “The worst is over.”

He did not comment.

They did wash up, and sure enough, most of his embarrassment was gone. They dressed. “Now let's get to know each other better,” she said.

“Better?” he asked blankly.

“Sex is only part of a marital relationship. What is your main interest in life?”

“Music,” he replied promptly.

“Do you play an instrument?”

“The mirliton.”

She had never heard of it. “Show me.”

He brought out a thick staff evidently used for hiking, but it had a number of holes cut in it. “I made this myself. What would you like?”

“You've been on Earth. Did you study any classical music?”

“Oh, yes. It was great. That's why I made the exchange. My folks gave me that chance, and if I didn't make good as a musician, then I'd settled down and farm turnips.”

“I like light classical. Bach, Beethoven, Brahms.” She wasn't sure he could really play it. Not on a clumsy homemade instrument like this.

He held the staff to his face and blew into a hole. His fingers touched other holes. And suddenly the room was filled with the music of Bach, “Sheep May Safely Graze.” It was absolutely beautiful.

Mona listened, entranced. Brian might be the son of a turnip farmer, unschooled in the ways of contemporary Earth culture, but he did know music.

She had come here officially to study precognition. But unofficially, she was looking for her quiet mundane marriage. Because of the relationship of these two bodies, Brian was the prime candidate. After hearing him play, she knew he would do.

“Not for you?” he asked.

She realized that she had sat stunned by the marvelous sound. “I was still absorbing it. It's lovely,” she breathed. “Do you know others?”

“Some.” He lifted the instrument again. “Grieg. Song of the Morning.”

“I know that one.”

He played it, and the haunting melody suffused her spirit. She tried to hum it along with him, but quickly stopped, as her singing voice was not the shadow of the sound of his instrument. The voice was clear, the notes on key, but she was untrained.

When it finished, she stood and went to him. “I'm going to kiss you,” she warned him, knowing her power over a man, any man, regardless of the body. “Brace yourself.” They had not kissed during the sex.

“You don't have to--”

She cut him off with the kiss. When it was over their arms were around each other, and she knew she was blushing as much as he. “You are some man,” she said.

“I just like music.”

“We are going to get along.” Her emotion was burgeoning explosively. In her Earth life she had guarded herself from romance, not being able to afford it; now she was going for it, and it was like stepping into a hurricane.

“This feels more important than the other,” he said in wonder.

“It is.” She looked at him seriously. “I think I underestimated you. I was ready to play at marriage, for the sake of appearances. Now I may get serious. Fair warning.”

“You—like me?”

“Yes. And if this goes the way it may, I may marry you, and the next baby will be yours.”

He stood there, awed.

“Too fast for you?” she asked. “I'm a lawyer. I'm accustomed to rapidly assessing situations and making fast decisions. Bear with it. You are free to say no at any time; this is not intended to be coercive.”

“I'm the no-count son of a turnip farmer!” he protested.

“I think not any more. You're a serious musician. After this exchange is over, I may take you back to Earth with me, and show you my real body.”

He looked a bit like a kid in a candy store, not quite believing it. “Is—is it as good as this one?”

“Larger. All around. Not pregnant. You'll like it.”

“Are you joshing me?”

“No. On Earth, as I said, I'm a lawyer, and I love it. But I also want to be a housewife. With you, here on Colony Jones, I believe I can have it all.”

He shook his head. “I think I'm dreaming.”

“I have six months to persuade you otherwise.” Because sudden as her interest was, she knew this was what she wanted. It would be in six month intervals, but that was probably about her limit before her hunger for legalistic combat became too strong. It was a perfect compromise between the two facets of her ambition.

The cottage was well supplied, and there was a little garden behind it. Mona rummaged in the supplies and made them a dinner of spiced turnips, with the greens farmed into a salad, while Brian split kindling for the stove. It wasn't any gourmet delight, but he had the wit to praise it. After the meal she washed the dishes in a basin of hot water. Primitive, yes, but comfortable.

“This—with you—I don't know what to make of it,” he said.

She knew how to deal with his natural doubt. “I'm going to make love to you, my way, including kissing. Are you saying no?”

“No! I mean--”

“I know what you mean. Relax and enjoy it.”

He did, and she did. This time he participated more fully.

“I understand that Shep and Elen did a music tour to pay their way,” she said. “We should carry on with that, but I'm not sure I can do my part. I'm not a trained singer.”

“Maybe Elen's folks can help you,” he said diplomatically.

“I hope so.”

When darkness came, they shared the bed, sleeping together without awkwardness.

Next day Mona got serious about her agenda. “I need to get close to the sheep. Maybe Elen's folks will help with that too.”

“Maybe,” Brian agreed. “I know the way to their village.”

The Vulture and Python accompanied them. Word must have gone ahead, because Elen's family was expecting them. Erasmus and his wife Elsa stood at their door. She had dark waist-length hair, like her daughter. They were not friendly, and made no indication that the visitors should enter the house. “We know you are not them,” Erasmus said gruffly.

“We are not,” Mona agreed. “I am Mona Maverick, of Earth. This is Brian Peterson, of Colony Jones. We are maintaining the relationship that Shep and Elen had, to the extent we are able. I would like to have your help.”

“We do not approve,” Elsa said.

“For the sake of appearances, and for the baby. It is better to have its genetic parents together throughout.”

“The baby,” Elsa repeated, softening. But her husband remained unyielding.

“I am here to study the precognition of the sheep,” Mona said doggedly. “I believe that you understand them better than Brian's folks do. Please--”

“Please depart,” Erasmus said.

Mona met his gaze, applying her lawyer mode. “If something should happen, such as the shutdown of the student exchange program, your daughter will be left with this man, though she does not love him. He is nevertheless worthy. You need to get to know him. His body will be in your future as your grandchild grows.”

Elsa wavered visibly, then glanced at her husband, and remained silent.

This was difficult. Mona decided to play her trump card. “Brian, play for them.”

“They don't want music!” he protested. “We are being offensive. We should go.”

“Sheep May Safely Graze.”

He did not try to oppose her further. He lifted the mirliton and played. Mona saw that both parents were impressed by the way Brian obeyed her wish. They knew she had control, and that their daughter would retain it.

The melody took hold and transformed the very atmosphere as its competence manifested. Mona saw that other elf villagers within hearing were pausing to listen. No one with even the faintest appreciation of music could fail to respond. How well she understood! It had made her love Brian.

The older elves were visibly impressed. The lovely music held them speechless until the end.

“You are better than Shep,” Erasmus said, amazed.

“Brian is the musician,” Mona said. “Shep merely borrowed some of his talent. As I hope to borrow some of your daughter's talent for singing. With your help. I'm untrained in that respect.”

“Come in,” Elsa said, fading back into her house.

They entered. The Vulture and Python elected politely to remain outside.

Inside they were more comfortable. “Please help me get in touch with the sheep,” Mona said.

“We can't directly help you,” Erasmus said, no longer aloof. “If the sheep want to know you, they will arrange it. It is their initiative, not yours. This is the way it is.”

“Trust the sheep,” Elsa agreed.

“But--”

“It is the only way,” Erasmus said. “No one governs the sheep.”

“It is their birthing season,” Elsa said. “They are busy. But if they want you, they will let you know.”

That, it seemed, was that. Mona was disappointed, but determined to find some way regardless.

“It is true that Elen can sing,” Elsa said, changing the subject. “She sang with Shep. You can do it if you let her body govern your effort. Try it with me.” Then she hummed the “Sheep” melody.

Mona joined her, thus guided, and discovered that she could indeed do it. That resolved her doubt about doing the tour. She hugged Elsa in gratitude when their session finished. Erasmus shook hands with Brian, similarly thawing. It seemed the parents were no longer hostile to the two of them living in sin.

But what about the sheep?

Chapter 2:

Lamb

In the morning, after a day and night of exploration of the local terrain, Mona woke to the sound of a bleat. “The sheep!” she exclaimed, astonished. She scrambled out of bed, naked, and flung open the door.

There was a solid Ewe. Mona knew immediately that she was special, deserving of the capital; it seemed to be the telepathy in operation. The Vulture and Python were at attention, watching her. There was blood on her hind section: she had recently given birth.

Mona stood silent, uncertain why the sheep had come, when she had her lamb to take care of. If these animals were as dangerous as reputed to be, surely they were even more so when protecting their offspring.

The sheep bleated. It was a brief, authoritative sound. Then she walked away.

“That's the summons,” Brian said. “Follow her.”

Mona didn't hesitate. She wanted contact with the precognitive sheep and one had come to her. She followed. So did the Vulture and Python. And Brian, respectfully behind, as he had not been invited.

The Ewe led them to a copse just beyond the village. There, lying in leaves, was a spindly newborn Lamb also instantly special. The Ewe had evidently come here to birth it. Why, so close to the village?

The Ewe went to stand beside, almost over, the Lamb. Then the Lamb scrambled up and tried to nurse. And failed, because one leg would not properly support it. It fell to the ground, with a little bleat of despair.

“He's lame,” Brian said behind her. Being a farm boy, he knew the gender.

Mona's heart went out to the little creature. “Maybe I can help,” she said, stepping toward the Lamb.

“Watch it,” Brian said, alarmed. “She can kill you!”

But the Ewe made no motion. She simply stood there, waiting.

“She knows I mean no harm,” Mona said. “She led me here.” She dropped to her knees beside the Lamb and put her arms around him. She lifted his upper body so that it was firmly in place. “Now try it.”

Immediately the lamb went for the teat again. This time he got it, and eagerly sucked in the milk. Mona held him while he drank.

“I'll be damned,” Brian said. “She's letting you!”

“She knew I would do this,” Mona said in a flash of understanding. “That telepathy or precognition, whatever. She brought me here so I could help him nurse.”

Indeed he was nursing, getting his first full meal. She held him until he had finished both teats. Then, carefully, she let him go.

He sank to the ground, unable to stand.

“Oh!” Mona said, putting her arms around him again. She picked him up and held him to her naked bosom. He nuzzled her face. She kissed his furry nose, instantly loving him.

The Vulture and the Python came up to stiff noses with the Lamb. Mona let them, by this time knowing that they were minions of the sheep.

And the Ewe was gone.

“Uh-oh,” Brian said. “Now he's yours.”

“But I don't know the first thing about caring for a sheep,” Mona said.

“Yes you do. You're doing it.”

“Loving him,” she agreed, realizing it was true. She stood, holding the Lamb, and walked back to the house. “Make a box for him,” she told Brian. “With bedding. So he'll be comfortable.”

Brian put together a bed for the Lamb. Mona tried to set the animal down in it, but he bleated sadly. “Okay, for now,” she said, sitting on the bed holding him. “But you'll soon have to learn how to sleep by yourself.”

He lay his head against her breast and slept.

“We'll have to get milk for him,” she told Brian as she held the lamb. “And see about making a splint for his leg so he can walk.”

“Cow's milk won't do,” Brian said. “Sheep need sheep's milk. There have been foundlings, and they always died, because nobody can milk a sheep.”

“Well, we'll have to try. We can't just let him starve.”

He shrugged, not knowing what to do.

Mona held the Lamb, and nodded off to sleep herself. She was awakened by a bleat outside. She understood immediately. “The Ewe returned!”

She got up, still holding the Lamb, and carried him to the door. There was the Ewe, stolidly standing. Mona went to her, kneeled, and braced the Lamb beneath her so he could nurse. He did so with enthusiasm. However long they had slept, it had been enough for the Lamb to get hungry again, and for the Ewe to refill her udder.

Was this the way it was to be? The Ewe going out to graze and recharge, while Mona babysat the Lamb? This was not the kind of interaction with the sheep Mona had had in mind.

After the Lamb had been suckled, the Ewe did something odd: she made a kind of stiff-legged bow to Mona. Then she departed. Mona watched her go, puzzled. Then she took the Lamb back inside. She tried again to set him in the box, and again he protested. But this time the Vulture and Python followed her in. They looked sternly at the lamb. He halted his protest and accepted his bed. The Python curled around it while the Vulture perched nearby.

“They gave him the word,” Brian said. “They serve the sheep. They're babysitting. You have a break.”

“I need it,” Mona said, not questioning the reliability of the animals. She went to the toilet, heedless of Brian's gaze, then washed and dressed for the first time that day. Then she saw about breakfast, which had been blotted out by the event of the morning.

Refreshed, she looked at Brian, silently offering him sex. He shook his head, now having the confidence to know that it would be there for him when he needed it.

“Did you see what the Ewe did?” she asked Brian.

“I saw. I don't know what it means.”

The Lamb woke. She picked him up, kissing his little ear. “You need a name,” she said. “How about Ram Bunctious? Or maybe Lamb Bunctious.”

Brian shook his head, bemused.

“Let's go out for a walk,” Mona said. “We'll show you off to the neighbors.” Because it was clear that the Lamb was staying.

They took a walk through the village: Brian, Mona, Vulture, Python, and the Lamb in Mona's arms. They didn't need to say anything; this was merely the public announcement. All the villagers knew she was adopting a little sheep. They might doubt that it would survive long, but they were now aware of the event. Just as they were aware of the Vulture and Python, and tolerated them in their midst. It was the will of the sheep.

“The village elder,” Brian said. “Maybe he would know. About the bow.”

“Oh, yes,” she said, remembering. “Take us there.”

He led her to a central house. The elder sat on his deck chair in front. He stood when Mona approached. “Salutation, madam,” he said formally.

“I am Mona, of Earth,” she said, though he surely knew. “Holding the fort for Elen Elf during her stay on Earth. The sheep brought me this Lamb. I'll handle it. But I am perplexed about one thing: his mother, the Ewe, made a sort of bow to me. What does it mean?”

“She did that,” he said, amazed. “I heard of something similar, maybe thirty years ago. A ewe made it to the village elder of the time. Then he designated the sheep a protected species, never to be hunted or molested. It was as though she recognized him for it, before it happened. That precognition. You must be going to do something of similar magnitude for the sheep.”

“I'm taking care of her Lamb,” Mona said. “Does that count?”

“I don't think so. That's just one animal. More likely it affects all the sheep, significantly.”

“I have no idea how. I'm here to study them, though I haven't yet had much chance.”

“Study the lamb,” he said.

Surprised, she looked at the Lamb in her arms. “That's it! I can study him! I never thought of that.”

“Or of whatever it is you will do to affect all the sheep,” the Elder said. “But it will occur. Trust the sheep.”

“Thank you,” she said, feeling awkward.

He smiled. “You're new here. You'll learn.”

“I hope so.” She moved on.

“Now I'm curious too,” Brian said. “What do the sheep have in mind?”

“We'll both learn,” she said, laughing a trifle uneasily.

They returned to the house. The routine quickly was established: the Ewe returned often to nurse the Lamb, and Mona cared for him the rest of the time.

Brian made a padded splint and carefully fastened it to the lamb's foreleg. After a few tries Bunctious caught on, and was able to stand alone. Then when the Ewe came again, Mona carefully set the Lamb on his feet beside her. He took several small steps and reached her udder, where he nursed. Victory!

The Lamb slept in his box, but Mona cuddled him often. After a few days she became aware of something else: his mind. She could almost feel what it was like to be a newborn lamb. In fact she was feeling it; this was beyond empathy. It was the telepathy beginning to manifest in him, as it already existed in the Ewe. She was getting to study it in the best possible way: as it manifested in a young creature. She communed with him daily, strengthening the rapport. She wasn't ready to write a paper about it; it was just a feeling, but she was sure it was real. For one thing, with each passing day she could connect from farther away. She realized that her mature mind was lending power to his immature one, so that the phenomenon expanded rapidly. Soon she could tune into him when she was lying on the bed, knowing when he needed to go out to defecate; he had become housebroken when he picked up the preference for it from her mind.

Then there came something else. Not a connection so much as a premonition. There was danger approaching, not directly to the Lamb or to her or her household, but to their environment.

She questioned Brian. “I'm picking up on a threat, I think to the village. What could it be?”

“Sometimes predators raid, rabid wolves. They're big, and hunt in packs.”

“No. It's not like that. I'm feeling hot and cold.”

“The HiLo!” he exclaimed.

“The what?”

“It's a weather event that comes erratically; there's no predicting it and we don't know what causes it. But it's devastating. First it gets super hot, something like a hundred and thirty degrees F. Then it gets cold, maybe twenty degrees under freezing. It wipes out the turnip crop, and others, in a single day and night. Then its gone, and maybe won't come again for ten years. Been six years since the last.”

“That's it,” she agreed. “One is coming soon.”

“Can you wind out when?”

“I'll try.” She communed with Bunctious, and zeroed in on it. “Maybe four-five days hence.”

“Times a wasting! I'll tell my folks.”

“But do you have any way to abate the menace? It sounds ferocious.”

“Sure. Tuff stones. Volcanic rock that readily absorbs heat, and radiates it back out when the cold comes. Put a stone by each plant, and it makes it so that the high is only about ninety, and the low about forty. The plants can handle that. But it's a lot of work to place all the stones.”

“But better than losing the crop.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Tell your folks.”

He was off. Mona hugged Bunctious. “If this proves out, we've got precognition. My dream.”

But there was a complication. The farmers didn't believe it. They rejected the idea that a newborn lamb could predict such an event. Grown sheep yes, but not such a young one. They were not about to struggle to place all the stones, probably wasting their time and effort, on such a tenuous prediction. Only Brian's own family and a few friends accepted it, probably as much in support of him as actual belief.

Mona appreciated the villagers’ caution. It was hard for her to believe, herself. Could it be a product of her imagination amplified to seeming reality by her communion with the Lamb? Yet she had not known about the HiLo.

They joined the Peterson family putting out the stones. There were a lot of turnip plants to cover, and every stone had to be placed precisely, because the radius of their effect was small. Too far away and it was useless; too near and the air circulation could be impeded and spoil the leveling effect. Mona got sore knees and a backache from the hunched labor, but felt she had to do her part. They were trusting her insight. The sheep were to be trusted, yes, but she was no sheep, and the Lamb was as yet unproven.

The timing became more certain as the event approached. “Tomorrow,” Mona said. “That's when it happens.” Though there was no indication from the weather.

The Petersons were busy all day putting out tuff stones, but it was apparent they would not finish on time. So Brian and Mona worked late with them, despite their fatigue, taking the corner of the field near the forest. It was tedious labor, carrying irregular fragments from the wagon and setting a stone beside each turnip plant. The tuff was light, but still solid enough to make Mona sweat, and her back ached from the constant bending over. But the extra effort was paying off; they would complete this section by nightfall.

Lamb Bunctious—or Bunky as she was coming to call him—was a little apart, nibbling experimentally on weeds. He knew already not to touch the turnips; Mona had mind-warned him, and that had been gratifyingly effective. He was not really eating anyway, still dependent on the Ewe's milk, but the more plant roughage he took in, the more his digestive system would learn the way of it, until he could be weaned. The Vulture and Python paced him, standing guard. They were nervous about the proximity of the forest, where danger always lurked, and tried to encourage the Lamb to move farther away from it, but he was still somewhat uncertain on his feet, especially the foreleg with the splint, and stayed where he was. Mona realized belatedly that she should have set him down farther inside the field; she hadn't been thinking of the risk of the edge of it.

Then trouble erupted from the forest, confirming the Vulture and Python's concern. Six pony-sized wolves changed out, rapidly orienting on the people and creatures on the field.

“Dire wolves!” Brian exclaimed. He ran protectively toward Mona. But before he got there, one wolf charged him. Brian swung his massive staff, viciously, cracking it into the wolf's head so hard that the animal was knocked off its feet, blood welling from its ear, for the moment unconscious.

But two wolves were coming for Mona. Petrified, she had no notion what to do, and just stood there with a large chunk of tuff in her hands.

Then another creature ran from the forest. It was the Ewe, moving at an amazing velocity. She zoomed toward a wolf, and as it sprang into the air toward Mona, the Ewe leaped to intercept it in mid-air. They collided, and dropped to the ground, linked. But it was the Ewe who was still on her feet; the wolf fell on its back, bleeding from several wounds. What had happened?

Mona couldn't focus on that at the moment, because the third wolf was charging right at her, huge jaws gaping. Instinctively she heaved the stone into its mouth. The jaws snapped closed, and the teeth sank into the tuff. And stayed there, trapped by the soft rock. The wolf had been effectively muzzled.

But her primary concern was for the Lamb. “Bunky!” she cried, running toward him. But she was too late and too weak to do anything; all she could do was watch while the action proceeded, seconds later than it had with her own group.

The Python intercepted one wolf, biting its nose and wrapping her coils about its body. The wolf fell to the ground, in a fight for its life. The Vulture flew to catch another wolf, wrapping her claws about its snout and pecking at its eyes; this wolf, too, was now in serious trouble. But the third wolf pounced on Bunky. Its giant mouth closed on the Lamb's little body.

Mona opened her mouth to scream in horror. But something restrained her. It was Bunky's mind. He was not afraid. Not hurting. He was fighting back.

Then the wolf's jaws parted and it pulled away, letting the lamb go. Blood was pouring from its mouth. Again, what had happened?

“The blades,” Brian said. “They've got defensive blades that jam out to stab whatever attacks them. Bunky too.”

Now Mona saw that the Ewe, having dispatched her wolf, had made no motion toward the Lamb. Instead she calmly walked off the field and disappeared into the forest.

The wolves gave up the attack. The one Brian had bashed recovered consciousness and slunk toward the forest. The one Mona had fed tuff finally got its mouth clear and departed also. The two nullified by the Vulture and Python lurched toward the forest, and were let go. The one that had tried to bite the Lamb was in sad state, its mouth a mass of blood; it made it's way slowly to the forest, where death seemed likely if it could not heal quickly enough. That left the one the Ewe had blocked. It was dead, its life blood drained by savage wounds in its side and belly. Defensive blades? That Ewe had attacked and dispatched the wolf in short order.

Now Mona fully appreciated the nature of the sheep: they were indeed deadly. Even the baby one.

She went and picked up Bunky, and he cuddled comfortably in her arms. He was covered with wolf blood, but there was no sign of his blades. At the house she put him in a tub and washed him thoroughly. He was completely uninjured. She put him in the box, and he dropped off to sleep immediately. His effort of defense had to have depleted his energy.

Then she washed herself, getting the last of the wolf blood off, and changed her clothes.

She had to make sense of it. “The Ewe—she came to help me, rather than her Lamb. How could that be?”

“Remember, she bowed to you,” Brian said. “You're important.”

“No mother would endanger her child that way!”

“Maybe he wasn't in danger. You were.”

“A two week old Lamb? Those giant wolves?”

“The sheep are tough,” he said. “Maybe it was tough love.”

“Tough love?”

“Bunky's known nothing but protection and love. You, me, Vulture, Python—we all take care of him. It's a soft life for him. But it's a rough planet out there. He needs to know how to defend himself. So she let him do it, the sheep's way. When he felt those jaws closing on him, he reacted. It evoked his natural defense. Now he knows the danger, and knows how to handle it. It's part of his necessary education.”

“Tough love,” she said again, seeing it. “But what if he'd been killed?”

“They're precognitive. She knew he wouldn't die. “She did what was necessary and walked away.”

“She did,” she agreed. “I couldn't have had a better lesson myself.”

“It's what you came here for.”

“Indeed. But it's not playing out the way I anticipated.”

“Things don't,” he agreed.

“And you—you really clobbered that wolf with your staff.”

“It is a weapon,” he agreed. “It gives me safety and music. Half of what I need.”

“Half?”

“You're the other half.”

She was taken aback, but realized he was serious. She had set out to conquer him, and clearly had done so. “Thank you.”

There was a bleat outside. Bunky woke, hungry. She took him out to the Ewe. She no longer needed to hold him up.

While she waited, she addressed the Ewe. “I don't suppose you can understand me, but thank you for looking out for me. I managed to stop one wolf, but I couldn't have stopped another. You saved my life.” She took a breath. “But please, please, don't put your son at risk like that again.”

The sheep merely looked at her.

“Reconsidering,” she said. “You do understand me, because of the telepathy. At least my emotion. I owe you, but I don't know how I can repay you.”

There was no visible reaction, but she felt acceptance.

“I'm going to hug you,” she said. “It's my way.”

She paused, and when there was no evident negation, she put her arms around the Ewe's shoulders and neck and squeezed. “Thank you, again.”

She drew back. The Lamb had finished nursing. The Ewe walked away.

“She could have stabbed you,” Brian said.

“I know. But I knew she wouldn't. She has to accept my ways, just as I accept hers. She knows how often I hug Bunky.”

“I guess she does.”

“Now we need to get a good night's rest. Tomorrow, if we're lucky, comes the HiLo.”

“Lucky!” he laughed.

“You know what I mean. The proof of Bunky's precognition. It will be awkward if the HiLo doesn't come.”

“I guess so,” he agreed, amused.

Chapter 3:

Mission

The following day was beautiful, with no hint of anything untoward. That made Mona nervous. Could she have misread the precognition? Yet Bunky remained sure: there was something coming in four hours.

They went to the turnip farm, the complete group of them, after Bunky nursed. Mona's limbs and back remained slightly stiff, but that was the least of her concerns. She didn't want to embarrass the Petersons or discredit the lamb's ability, yet her doubt remained.

“Three hours,” she told Brett Peterson.

“Gives me time to place the last stones,” he said with no hint of irony.

She kissed him. “You believe me.”

“It's a bigger risk not believing you than believing you,” he said frankly. “If its wrong, I've lost time and face. If it's right, I have saved my crop and your reputation. I've got to go with the smaller gamble.”

“You believe me,” she repeated.

He nodded. “I do. The rationale is for others, just in case.”

“I love you.”

“You love my son. I'm just part of the family.”

“Him, too,” she agreed with a smile. She was immensely gratified by the farmer's support.

They waited. There was nothing else to do. Bunky gamboled on the turf at the edge of the turnip field, getting better with his splinted leg, though it was clear that he would never be a powerful runner or jumper. The Vulture and Python stayed near, guarding him. Now Mona understood why they always remained close to the Lamb. A threat could appear at any moment, until he was old enough to see it coming in time to avoid it.

“He would not survive without you,” Cora Peterson remarked. “It made sense for her to bring him to you. She wanted to save her child.”

“Yes. I hope Elen agrees to keep him, after we exchange back.”

“That may be academic.”

“Oh?”

“Within a year he'll mature into a ram. That will doom him.”

“Why?” Mona asked, alarmed.

“The rams are not allowed to stay here. That's the rule of the ewes, not ours. Rams are lusty creatures who don't take no for an answer. The ewes don't want to be bothered. So they exile them to a distant island, and go to visit them only when they are ready to breed.”

“Then Bunky can go to the island, can't he?”

“No. The route is treacherously difficult, fraught with dangers. Shep told us about it when he returned from that trip. The lamb could never make it.”

“But then, what is he to do?” Mona asked, alarmed.

“He'll be exiled into the wilderness, where the wolves will kill him. If he tries to return, the ewes will kill him.”

“That can't be!” Mona protested. “There must be a way to save him.”

“There is, but you won't like it.”

“What is it?”

“Castration. Make him a wether, a nulled male sheep. Then he'll never mature, and the ewes will tolerate his presence.”

“Castration! I can't abide that!”

Cora gave her a straight look. “I think that's the other reason he was given to you. Because humans know how to null animals. We do it with dogs and cats. She wants to save him for his whole life, not just his youth.”

Mona shook her head. “There has to be some other way.”

Cora did not argue with her. She had said her piece.

The last stones were placed an hour before the event. The sky remained clear, the air mild. Mona's nervousness increased. She believed, yet doubted. If the HiLo didn't come...

Bunky come to the shade of the house, where there was a pile of left-over tuff. The vulture and python joined him.

“It's time,” Mona said. “And the weather is nice.”

Brett was back. “Heat's rising.”

“Well, it's the natural heat of the day,” Mona said, determined not to be deluded by her wish.

“No. It's the HiLo.”

“How can you be sure?” But then Mona paused. The temperature was rising, rapidly; she could feel the change. “Oh, my.”

“Ye of little faith,” Brian said, smiling. But she could tell he was relieved, too.

The air continued to heat, though it remained clear. It seemed the HiLo was similar to what on Earth was called a clear-air disturbance. Soon they were sweating. But they were also smiling: the Lamb was being vindicated.

They went to join the animals, sitting around the tuff, which had an effect like Earthly air conditioning. Mona saw Cora pet the Python; they had known each other for many months. The influence of the sheep did strange things to human associations.

In the course of the next two hours the temperature rose to about 130°, exactly as predicted. It hovered there as the local vegetation wilted. But the turnips were all right, protected by the stones. All the tedious labor of the prior days was being justified.

Then it changed. There was inchoate turbulence. A kind of invisible storm seemed to form. “Turnover,” Brett said. “Air's too hot; it has to rise. The cooler upper air has to descend. But they get in each other's way. So messy hot sheets of it slide up, and cold sheets slide down. We'll be okay if it doesn't get circular.”

“Circular?” Mona asked.

“Cyclone,” Brian said. “Tornado. We don't want that.”

Mona shuddered, and not from the erratic wind.

“But the lamb's not concerned,” Cora pointed out. “He's just lying there.”

So he was. “So no tornado,” Mona said, relieved.

“But soon we'll need clothing for the night,” Cora said. “It will be cold.” She got up and went into the house.

Indeed, the temperature was plummeting as the sheets of air displaced each other. It was already down to high comfortable, with plenty more to go.

“Time to eat something, then bundle up,” Cora said, reappearing with sandwiches.

They hastily ate as dusk approached. Then it was time to go inside. “But Bunky,” Mona said. “I can't leave him out in the cold.”

Cora considered briefly. “Then bring him in, bring them all in, and the tuff. It will keep the house pleasant.”

They did that, and before long Mona and Brian were in fluffy sleeping bags on the floor beside the rocks, next to the three animals. It was all very comfortable despite the ice forming on the window panes. They slept.

In the morning there was frost everywhere except around the turnip plants. They went out to appreciate it, as this was a rarity in summer. Even the cold-blooded python seemed to enjoy the experience.

But the HiLo was passing. The air warmed rapidly to normal, melting the frost. They could see that the turnips would be all right.

“And we owe our salvation to you, Lamb Bunctious,” Brett said, patting the lamb. He was obviously well pleased, and not entirely because his crop had been saved.

Mona was overflowing with wonder and relief. Bunky had been thoroughly vindicated, and with him, Mona's own interpretation of his precognition.

The fallout from the HiLo was immediate and severe. Brett Peterson had spread the word, and had not been widely credited. The other farmers knew they could have escaped the wipe-out if they had only believed. They couldn't blame Brett, or Mona, or the lamb. The few who had believed, had saved their crops. But hereafter, as they replanted, they would pay better attention.

It was time to tour. Their supplies were low, and they needed to replenish them. They arranged to give recitals at several villages, which would be duly appreciated. But now the main attraction would be The Lamb.

In fact the three animals formed a kind of petting zoo for children and adults, who had seldom if ever gotten close to any creatures of their type. The news of the Vulture and the Python had spread across the planet when Shep and Elen married, and now the Lamb was even better known. They had to warn the villagers of the occasional presence of the Ewe, who still needed to nurse Bunky. “Do not molest her,” Brian warned. “The sheep are deadly. Just ignore her, and keep your dogs away from her, and there will be no trouble.” The villagers honored that, some watching without trying to approach. They knew the Ewe was not tame. The Ewe, in turn, evidently knew she would be left alone despite her public appearances. Precognition was useful for minor conveniences as well as for major threats.

Mona was nervous about the first show. But Brian played superlatively, melting every heart, and she hummed along with him adequately, doing light classical music, and it was well received. Then came a question from the audience: “How about ‘He Who Is Noble?'”

Mona exchanged a look with Brian. “We don't know that one,” Brian said.

“But you did it before.”

Oh. “That was Shep and Elen, before the exchange. We are Brian and Mona.”

“Do it anyway.”

Brian shook his head. “You'd have to teach it to us.”

“Okay.”

A number of the villagers knew it, from before, and happily rendered it for them. Brian caught the melody immediately, and Mona picked up the words. “He who is noble, pure and simple hearted,” she sang with Elen's fine voice. “Needs not a weapon, needs no man to guard him. Virtue defends him.” There was applause.

Not only did they add it to their repertoire, they added the system itself. At each village thereafter they encouraged the natives to teach them one of the “old” songs, and the villagers were thrilled to oblige. It gave them bragging rights, teaching songs to the performers. It was a highly successful circuit.

But when they returned to the home village, the Lamb become restive. Mona put her arm about him. “What is it, Bunky?”

Then, slowly, she received news that surprised her. She reviewed it repeatedly, getting it straight, until she had no doubt or confusion. She went to the village library to research and get relevant information. She communed with the Ewe, to be sure the sheep were cognizant. Taken as a whole, it was astonishing. “We have a new mission from the sheep,” she told Brian later. “We have to visit Earth.”

“After our exchange tour is done, sure,” he said. “I am eager to study more classical music.”

“No. Now. Out of turn. For a day and night. Then we'll return to finish our tours.”

“That's impossible! They allow only six month exchanges.”

“They'll allow this one. Bunky is sure.”

“But why?”

“This is where it gets tricky, in more than one respect,” she said soberly. “First, its not just the two of us. It's our companions. Vulture, Python, and Lamb.”

His mouth fell open. “Animals exchanging? I'm not sure it's ever been done.”

“It's been done experimentally, when they were establishing the viability of the system. The trick here is to obtain three equivalent animals on Earth to be hosts.”

“Is that all?” he asked facetiously.

“No. We'll have to recruit Elasa and bring her back with us.”

“Elasa,” he repeated. “On Earth I heard of an Elasa, but she was--”

“A humanoid robot. My friend.”

“I think I need to know more about this.”

“Elasa was a contraction of Electronic Associates, a long-since bought-out robot company. She kept the name. She was a fembot, designed to seduce and service men, so she had to be really realistic physically but unrealistically obliging mentally. She never, ever, said no to a lustful man. She could not be told from a lovely living woman unless she exposed her mechanical innards. Later she became conscious, the only robot to do so, so far. Then she not only said no, she sued for personhood, to be recognized as a legal person.”

“Why?”

“Because the man who had hired her fell in love with her, and she was programmed to love him. Her onset of consciousness made that love real, and hard-wired. But she couldn't marry him unless she was recognized as a legal person. So she sued, and there was a public hearing, and she won. I participated in that, and became her friend. I conceived her baby. Now I know she is the only person who can accomplish what the sheep need to be done. So we have to go to Earth to recruit her and bring her here, for a week.”

“What is it the sheep need to be done?”

“You know about the vampires?”

“The ones that guard the ram's island? I have heard of them. They prevent the rams from escaping.”

“Yes. Now there are coming to be male vampires that will prevent the ewes from crossing to the island. That will prevent them from breeding, and wipe out their species.”

Brian whistled. “They would take that seriously. They may not want the rams around full time, but they do need them for breeding.”

“They take it seriously,” Mona agreed. “In fact they knew about it some time ago. That's why they recruited me.”

“They recruited you?”

“By bringing Bunky to me. It wasn't just to help him survive. It was to get me involved, as a person who could and would address their problem. And I will. But I can't do it myself.”

“I don't follow. Can you or can't you help them?”

“I can help them by in turn recruiting the person who has the ability I lack. My friend Elasa.”

“But you said she's a machine!”

“Exactly. The vampires can't suck her blood and kill her the way they could a living woman.”

“Maybe I'll understand this better when I mull it over. But you said the animals must go to Earth too. Why, when all you want to do is talk to Elasa?”

Mona smiled. “Good question. It is because Elasa's mission must be secret. No one outside our little group must know that she's coming here.”

“Why?”

“I don't know, but the sheep believe it, and I trust the sheep. It may be that there are parties hostile to the salvation of the sheep, that would interfere, if they knew.”

“So how do the animals make it secret? They're bound to make global headlines.”

“Precisely. The media focus will be on them, while the real business goes unsuspected.”

“That's an awful lot of trouble to divert attention. You could attract media attention by dancing nude for the cameras.”

“I need to have the media attention off me while the animals do their thing. That's where you come in.”

“Me! I spent six months on Earth. That doesn't mean I know much about it. It's a foreign culture. I stayed mainly on the university campus.”

“You will lead the animals on a special mission that will rivet media attention, while I quietly talk with Elasa.”

“This is crazy! It'll never work.”

“The sheep believe it will.”

“And we trust the sheep,” he said wearily. “Even when they dabble in Earth politics, which they know nothing about.”

“We trust the sheep,” she agreed. Then she kissed him, and shut him up.

In the morning Mona set about the arrangements. First she sent a message, not to Elasa—that would have blown her cover!--but to Elen, who was now using Mona's body to study higher math on Earth. It asked her to talk to Mona's father, who would make arrangements for a brief out-of-turn exchange that included a Vulture, a Python, and a Lamb. She knew Elen might not understand, but would do it. The two of them had never met, but they were in each other's bodies, and that was one persuasive connection.

Then Mona went to the local spaceport. Spaceships still brought new colonists to Colony Jones, together with assorted key supplies; the colony was not yet completely self supporting. She went to the ship that was now parked, preparing for its return trip to Earth. She parked Brian and the three animals under a nearby tree, then walked to the adjacent office shed. She identified herself, giving her personal coding, and asked to talk to the logistics officer.

Surprised, he acceded, inviting her into the ship. She knew that as an officer he had to maintain a formal standard, unlike the men on liberty, and it probably was dull duty. She was a person of general interest, sufficient to break the monotony, and even though her body was pregnant, Elen's demeanor was attractive. Men noticed her. “Weren't you the woman who pretended to be the robot girl?” he asked. “We view the recording of that hearing all the time. For the information, of course.”

“Of course,” she agreed. Mona and Elasa had posed nude and allowed the jury to question and handle them, trying to determine which of them was the robot. They had been unable to tell, but the tri-vee recording of the session had become very popular with men. Two lovely nude women being publicly groped. In a good cause.

“What can I do for you, Miss Maverick?”

“Call me Mona.” The personal touch counted for a lot.

“And call me Mike.” Just so.

“Mike, I need to borrow a robot. A fembot, if you have a spare.”

He pursed his lips. “We have several. They are not much in demand planetside; the men prefer to associate with local girls. It's a matter of variety and novelty. But apart from the fact that those are state property, why would a woman like you want one? They are designed to appeal to unattached men, as you surely know.”

“Oh yes. Men care more for the semblance than the reality, no offense.” Now came the crux. “Can I trust your discretion? This is a secret mission that must not be leaked to the public.”

Mike considered. “Can you assure me that the robot will not be abused, mutilated, misused, or caused to embarrass the Interplanetary Navy?”

“I believe I can. We will not wish to call attention to her.”

“Then explain your mission. I will be discreet.”

“I need to bring Elasa, the fembot of the hearing you mentioned, here to Colony Jones for a week. Because she is not human, I need an appropriate host for exchange. One of your robots should do. The difference is that when Elasa arrives she will become conscious in the new host, so that she can help me accomplish an important personal mission. After it is completed, Elasa will be exchanged back to Earth, and I will return your robot, sans consciousness.”

Mike man whistled. “This is a thing I would like to see. In fact, I would insist on meeting her, as Elasa, to verify that the exchange has taken place.”

“You may meet her. But there must be no publicity.”

“I understand. Come here at the time you wish to make the exchange. This ship will be in port another month, ample time for your mission to be completed. When I verify her identity, I will release her in your custody for the duration of your mission. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough,” Mona agreed. “My consort and three animals will also be exchanging.”

“The vulture, the python, and the lamb,” he agreed. “This must be some mission.” He was plainly curious, but too polite to pry.

Yet his full cooperation was better than ignorance. She decided to trust him with a bit more information. “There is a danger to the sheep that I think only Elasa can abate. It involves the vampires. They will be attacking females as well as males, but a robot will be proof against their seduction.”

“I have heard of them,” he agreed. “In fact we have a strict protocol: no vampires aboard ship. That is not facetious.”

“Not at all,” she agreed.

“It has been a pleasure meeting you, Mona.”

“Mutual, Mike. Would you like to meet my companions?”

“Actually, I would. They are unusual.”

They went out and Mona introduced Mike to Brian and the animals. The Vulture and the Python remained aloof, but Bunky was happy to be petted.

“You seem just like an Earth lamb,” Mike said. “But I know you're not.”

“He's precognitive,” Mona said. “Try to surprise him.”

Mike accepted the challenge. He abruptly jumped to the side.

The lamb jumped with him, imperfectly because of his leg, but matching him.

Mike made as if to jump back, but did not. Bunky held his place.

The officer drew his service pistol. The Vulture and the Python surged forward, distrusting its nature, but the Lamb merely sniffed it.

Mike nodded, putting away the pistol. “That could be interpreted as ignorance, but I think he knows I would not try to hurt him.”

“He knows,” Mona agreed. “A dire wolf attacked him, and he nearly killed it.”

“The colony manual says the sheep are the deadliest creatures on the planet.”

“They are. But they don't look for trouble.”

“I appreciate this encounter,” Mike said. “I wish you the best of your mission.”

“Thank you.” They shook hands and she and the others departed.

She checked the message center to see if Elen had responded yet. She had, and Mona was astonished again. It seemed that Shep and Elen had not only established their case as exchangees, they had made a public demonstration of the sheep's precognition. Now Shep was the effective governor of Colony Jones, with authority to approve and facilitate the spot exchange of both people and animals. He was working closely with her father, Moncho Maverick, to facilitate the group exchange, no questions asked.

The sheep must have known.

Chapter 4:

Earth

They made the exchange in an enclosed garden near the Peterson's house, much as before. The technicians acted exactly as if doing a group of five, including three animals, was routine, though it had never been done before. The Ewe attended; she might not understand the technology of exchange, but knew she was needed to control the vulture and the python, because they were about to be replaced with genuinely wild creatures; they would remain in the garden a day and night. She would nurse the lamb, though it would be foreign to her. The Petersons would see to the privacy of the garden. Meanwhile, Shep and Elen would be back for this unexpected visit, and would make the most of it. At least they were familiar with the turnip farm and the Petersons.

Then the scene changed. They were at Shep's house, and Mona was in her own body. “Mona,” she announced.

“Brian,” Brian said from Shep's body.

Moncho was there. He hugged her. “Good to have you back, girl.”

“It's business, dad.” She disengaged and went to the cages, freeing the three animals. The Lamb was about Bunky's size, but not lame; it was the best they could do on short notice. The Vulture and the Python were not identical, but again, what counted was their minds; it was quickly evident that their exchanges, too, had been successful.

“Dad, I have business with Brian,” Mona said. “Can you babysit our companions for half an hour?”

He understood her perfectly. “Sure, if they'll mind me. There's a garden here they should like.”

“They will,” she said. Then she took Brian to Shep's bedroom.

“I've been here before,” he said. “But not with you.”

She threw off her clothing. “Are you disappointed?”

“No! You're beautiful!”

Then they were making love the conventional way, for the first time. He was almost savagely hungry for her.

“I told you you'd like me,” she reminded him after the first siege.

“I do! You're wonderful!”

“And I have a mind, too.”

He laughed. “You do.”

“It will be like this on Jones, in due course.”

“I love you!”

In due course they rejoined the others, who were busily exploring the garden. Moncho also produced a mirliton in the form of a staff, the one Brian had made during his prior visit. Brian played it as masterfully as he had played the one on Colony Jones, something his host could not have done by himself.

“Now the news,” Moncho said. “The small son of a visiting dignitary wandered away from their hotel last night and it seems got lost in the Everglades. Instant headlines. If that boy dies--”

“Your mission, Brian,” Mona said. “You know what to do.”

“Yes.” But he looked worried. She knew why: he wasn't sure the Lamb's precognition would work here on Earth, in the host body of a native lamb. Despite their superficial similarity, they were of drastically different species.

“Trust the sheep,” she reminded him. “It seems that their precognition came through here before.”

“There's a van waiting,” Moncho said. “And a private aircraft. You'll be there soon.”

“Yes.” Brian kissed her, then departed with the animals. They too knew what to do, the Lamb because of his telepathy, the others because of the Lamb. They would go into the Everglades and quickly locate and rescue the child, making phenomenal headlines.

“Now I need to see Elasa,” Mona said.

“She is on her way here.”

“Privately. This is the part of the mission that must not be known.”

“Be realistic, Mona,” he chided her. “The best place to hide a secret is in plain sight. The two of you are close friends. Naturally you want to get together for girl-talk and such.”

“Girl talk,” she echoed, laughing.

Elasa arrived, with Bela. The two women hugged each other around the baby. “What's on your living mind?” Elasa asked. “I know you didn't make this out-of-turn excursion for a lark.”

Mona let her have it. “The precognitive sheep anticipate the appearance of male vampires that will prevent the ewes from going to the ram's island for mating.”

“Elen told us about their journey to that island,” Elasa said. “Where the female vamps attack any males who try to cross the river. She had an interesting way of protecting Shep's body from them.”

“Yes. The vampires feed from their clefts, taking in an eager male's penis and spiking it for blood, regardless of his species. Pheromones maintain his readiness; he can't break until she has had her fill. Then another takes him similarly. He can't climax, only bleed. They will drain all his blood if not prevented. He is in bliss, but dying.”

“So I gather. So she shielded him from them by taking his penis into herself, her body being the barrier they could not get around. But I'm not sure how that would work against a male vampire. Could his penis suck blood?”

“It must, because the sheep fear it. That they will die the next time they try to cross to the island.”

“And they don't have male sheep crossing with them to block off their vaginas,” Elasa said, seeing it. “And if they did, the rams would quickly jettison and get off their rumps, and then the vampires would come in, not caring at all about breeding, only the blood. So the ewes really have no defense.”

“Exactly. I knew that the only effective answer is to eliminate the male vampires before the sheep make their trek. They can handle the female vamps, and don't want to eliminate them, because the rams need to be confined to the island. It's selective. So I thought of you.”

“A male vampire couldn't suck my blood,” Elasa agreed. “But he wouldn't be stupid enough not to realize that rather quickly. They would wait for the sheep. I don't see how I can help.”

“Remember when you carried your baby?” Mona asked. “You had an artificial uterus, and a blood supply, and you incubated Bela to term, and birthed him. Suppose you installed a blood supply for the vamps?”

“Why should I want to feed the vampires?”

“Poisoned blood,” Mona clarified. “Maybe slow-acting, like red squill to poison rats. They eat a little and it's fine; they eat more, and it's still fine. They don't realize that it's thinning their blood until they bleed to death internally.”

“But I'm not alive!” Elasa protested. “They would surely catch on that I'm a machine, and ignore me.”

“Not if you also were packed with compelling pheromones.”

“Use their own device against them!” Elasa said. “There's poetic justice in that.”

“That was my thought. Men are guided mainly by sight, and are attracted to a pretty girl even if they know she's a machine. The vampires are evidently guided by pheromones, and as a moth is guided by a light in the darkness, they may be compelled to try to feed on a creature emitting pheromones even if they know better.”

“So I could dispatch vampires by sexually feeding them, leaving the way clear for the ewes.”

“Yes. I think only a fembot could do it.”

“A fembot,” Elasa said. “Don't they have them on Colony Jones?”

“They do, and I have set it up for you to be hosted by one.”

“Why couldn't one of them do it? A fembot doesn't require consciousness to provide sex.”

Mona paused, dismayed. “I never thought of that! Somehow I knew it had to be you. I may have overlooked the obvious.”

“Not necessarily. When Elen came here, in your body, she and Shep brought news of two remarkable near-future events. The media ridiculed them, right up until the moment they came to pass. Then everything changed. It became evident that the sheep of Jones had somehow known future events on Earth that no one else knew. We all became believers.” She paused, still working it out. “Now the sheep have sent you here to recruit me, not an anonymous fembot. They must have reason. What could that be?”

The answer flashed. “Consciousness! The vampires must focus on consciousness as well as pheromones. They have pheromones galore; they generate them to overwhelm the resistance of their prey. But only conscious females are alive with flesh and blood. So a fembot would not suffice; her lack of awareness would be the giveaway.”

“And I am the only conscious robot,” Elasa concluded. “Now we have made sense of it.”

“But will you do it?” Mona asked.

“Of course I will do it! The sheep need me. It will be interesting to visit another planet, something I would never qualify for otherwise. To see first hand the things Elen told me about.”

Mona looked at her.

“And because my closest friend asks me,” Elasa said, providing the real reason as if it were an afterthought.

Mona hugged her. As a commentator had once remarked, there was more humanity in the robot than in many living folk.

“What about Bela?” Mona asked then. “He really can't come along.”

“His father will take care of him. And he has come to know and like Elen; she has a special touch you lack. No offense.”

“Of course. I've never been a mother. She's been practicing during her pregnancy.”

“She tells him stories of Colony Jones, and of the sheep. I don't think he really understands the details, but he does pick up on the spirit.”

“I think I will be able to do that too, after my tour.”

“So for a week it should be okay. I will make the arrangements.”

“I really appreciate it.”

“Now I think we need to rejoin the boys,” Elasa said.

“We?”

“It's a pretext for further visiting time. Elen is my friend too, but I value you most. We won't be seeing each other again for months, after this week, as far as the media know. Of course I will take advantage of the chance.”

Mona was overwhelmed with gratitude. “Oh, Elasa--”

“As if we need a pretext. Let's go.”

They took a commercial flight, being associates rather than the main figures of this event. As far as the media knew, Mona had visited briefly with her friend while Brian and the animals got on with the key business.

The media were full of it already. The receiver above their seat on the plane was tuned to the breaking news and commentary. “The exchangees are at it again. Shepherd and Elen are the ones who communed with the sheep of Colony Planet Jones and announced that two newsworthy items would appear: the discovery of an air-breathing squid, and a volcano in the Everglades. We all know how that turned out.” The newscaster smiled ruefully; he had been among the skeptics. “Now they are back with another publicity ploy: they say they will rescue the child lost in the Everglades. Because they were sent by those same sheep.” He paused meaningfully. “Can they be correct? Or are they simply cashing in on the publicity, to get more money for the Colony?”

“The nerve!” Mona exclaimed. “None of this is for money!”

Other passengers overheard her. “The woman and the robot!” one said.

Damn! Now they were in for it. She and Elasa had to smile and nod as if they appreciated the sudden cynosure. Next they would be asked for autographs.

The stewardess murmured into her mike.

“We are encountering turbulence,” the pilot announced on the speaker system as the plane swerved. “Passengers secure their seat belts and put away loose items.”

“Bless him!” Elasa murmured. She caught the eye of the stewardess and smiled, silently thanking her.

The plane went into sharp maneuvers that were enough to distract the other passengers. By the time those cleared they were in the descent for landing. The passengers had to remain in their seats.

Meanwhile the news continued. “And it's some show they are putting on. They have a python, a vulture, and a little lamb, all taken from a local sanctuary. They claim that the lamb is one of the precognizant sheep. Really? That lamb was birthed right here on Earth. And the man, said to be exchanged from Jones but in the body of Amber Shepherd, also of Earth, is setting up to play some weird musical instrument based on the kazoo. How can that relate to the rescue mission?”

The mirliton, which was actually a far cry from a kazoo. Brian could play it like a flute. Mona was smarting from the implication of incompetence.

They went on to remark on the folly of wasting money supporting such antics, when there were so many better uses for it. And of course there were the instant jokes. “A vulture, a python, and a lamb walk into a bar...” Mona turned it off. But she wondered. Was Brian really about to play the mirliton? Why? Bunky must be guiding him, but it still did not seem to relate.

They landed, and were whisked to the scene of the lost child. Sure enough, not only was Brian standing in the street playing the mirliton, a media man had a mike and amplifier, and it was being broadcast throughout the area. He was playing Grieg again, “Hall of the Mountain King.” It was vibrant and moving and absolutely beautiful. Neighbors were coming out to listen. But why?

Mona and Elasa approached Brian, not interrupting his serenade. They did not see Python. Then Vulture took wing and flew down the street. Bunky skipped along after the big bird, Brian followed the lamb, and the media folk followed him. It was like a weird parade.

They could imagine the fun the media commentators were having with this spectacle. How long would this farce continue? The media were always happy to facilitate celebrities making fools of themselves, but attention spans were short and other spectacles would be beckoning.

Vulture landed beside a manhole cover. Bunky joined him, pawing at it with a hoof. A workman appeared and hauled up the heavy lid.

“Get a light down there,” Mona called.

A man lowered a bright lantern. There was a cry from the recesses, as of a child.

Mona was there before she realized, agile because she was no longer pregnant. She found the rungs of a metal ladder and descended into the illuminated hole. There to the side was the child, a muddy little boy. She reached forth and took him in. In moments she had him on the street, and the cameras surrounded them. They had recovered the lost child.

“You better see this!” the man with the light called. A camera detached to go to him, and soon there was a holo projection above, of the scene below. A python and an alligator were locked in mortal combat.

Mona had the wit to get the boy's statement while the cameras were on them. “What happened?”

“I got lost,” the little boy said. “It was dark but I could see. The gator came after me. Then I heard the music and knew I would be found. The snake tackled the gator and I got away.”

Brian put his head down into the hole. “Python! Let it go. Come up here. The job's done.” The Lamb bleated, as if translating.

“There you have it,” Mona told the cameras in her trial-summation voice. “The boy crawled into the sewer system, not the Everglades. He couldn't find his way out. That's why he was not being located by the search party. But the alligator found him. Python saved him from that, and Vulture led us to them. All because of the Lamb's precognition; he knew where the boy would be found. That's why we had to bring them to Earth, in a hurry. We knew there was no time to argue with doubting media folk.”

Python emerged from the manhole. Mona set the boy down, reassuring him, and he went to pet the big snake. He knew Python had saved his life. The cameras took it all in.

That's how the child's parents found them, as they rushed back from the everglades. It was an international incident, but a positive one. Thanks to the Lamb.

“One thing I don't understand,” Mona murmured when they had a private moment. “Why the music?”

“This is Earth. Bunky no longer has the telepathic support of his dam. The lamb is a foreign host, one not naturally telepathic. He needed an assist.”

“The Ewe was bolstering him on Jones!” Mona said. “I never thought of that.”

“Neither did I, until I saw him falter. Then I caught on. Music has power, especially when there's telepathy; Elen told me that. They used music to fend off the vampires, as well as the shielding. So I made music, and it extended his range. Then Python and Vulture could go out; as long as they heard the music, they were in touch with Bunky. That made it work.”

“The boy said when he heard the music, he knew he would be found. Bunky reached him too!”

“Yes. The Lamb was the center of the operation. But he's young yet.”

“He'll get better as he grows.”

The evening news was filled with pictures of the rescue, with dramatic background music: Grieg, “Hall of the mountain King,” which had become abruptly popular, and with interviews with Mona and Brian. The skeptics had to eat dirt, again, and financing of Colony Jones administration was assured, as was the continuing administration of Amber Shepherd. There was just nothing like the peril and rescue of a child to compel public attention.

But the best was the cartoonist who had been there for Elasa, and for Elen and the sheep. It was a picture of a happy little boy posed with a lamb, a huge python on one side, an ugly vulture on the other, like deadly guardians. Beneath it were the words WASTED MONEY. The irony was huge.

Chapter 5:

Ogre

Elasa opened her eyes and looked around. “It worked!” she exclaimed, relieved. She was in an unfamiliar office, along with a pregnant young woman, an amiable young man, and the three animals.

“Elasa?” Mona asked. She had exchanged at the same time, and now was back in Elen's pregnant body.

“Yes. I thought it should work, since it is consciousness and memory that is exchanged, but it's never been done on a machine before, so I had a nagging doubt.”

“You remember the personhood hearing?”

“How could I ever forget it. You made it possible, Mona.” Of course Mona was trying to verify that Elasa's exchange really had occurred. “Also my baby. You would have married my man to take care of Bela, if I hadn't come back.” That was something that was not in the public record.

Satisfied, Mona turned to the unfamiliar man before them, evidently a naval officer. “Your witness, Mike.”

“Indeed,” the man agreed. “Elasa, you are now hosted by the body of one of our ship fembots. That machine answers to me. Show me that you are independent of it. That you actually are conscious.”

“Readily,” Elasa said, smiling. “Give your machine an order.”

“Fembot, return to your storage closet in the ship. Now.”

“Forget it, Mike. I haven't obeyed any such order since I achieved my personhood back on Earth. I'm a civilian, not subject to military discipline, regardless of my host.”

He acted affronted. “You can't talk to me that way!”

“The hell I can't, Mike. Get lost.”

Mike smiled. “That's definitely not our robot. She is incapable of any such responses.”

“You bet,” Mona agreed. “Elasa is conscious and self-willed, the only machine known to be so. Thank you, Mike; we'll take good care of the body.”

“I am sure you will.”

They released the three animals from their cages, which were of course no longer required, and departed his office. Elasa blinked as she viewed the planet outside. It was really quite different from Earth.

“Now comes the hard part,” Mona said. “Abolishing the male vampires. I understand that the journey there is hazardous.”

“How do we even find it?” Brian asked. “Only the sheep know the safe way. Elen was listed as guide, but she depended on the sheep to prevent them from getting killed.”

Then the Ewe appeared. They paused while Bunky nursed.

“And there's the answer,” Brian said. “The Ewe will lead us. She has to come along anyway, to nurse Bunky.”

“Obvious in retrospect,” Mona agreed.

But Elasa was not quite satisfied. “You have filled me in on the general gist,” she said. “But there remain things I don't understand.”

“Such as?”

“Why do the sheep always take along a human couple? They could travel more readily by themselves, or just with selected animals like Vulture and Python. Or an ape to peddle the boat across the water.”

Mona considered. “I don't know. Maybe the villagers do. We can ask the village elder.”

“Let's do that. We need to know exactly what we are getting into.”

Bunky finished nursing. The Ewe did not depart immediately instead she faced Elasa. And made a bow.

Surprised, Elasa bowed back. Then the Ewe left.

“She bowed to you!” Brian said.

“It's not a common courtesy to welcome a newcomer?”

“It is not,” Mona said. “She bowed to me, before. I learned that that was only the second time a sheep had done that, ever. You must be special too.”

“Well, I'm the only conscious robot.”

“I don't think the sheep care about that,” Brian said. “They care only about themselves. I think this means that just as Mona has a significant role to play in the welfare of the sheep, so do you.”

“So this mission must be really important to the sheep,” Elasa said. “As we already know.”

Mona shook her head. “I think it must be more than that. I'm picking up indications from Bunky. There's something larger going on, that only the sheep know about.”

Elasa nodded. “What would your father say?”

Mona smiled. Moncho always got straight to the point. “Find out what, first.”

“Let's ask the village elder about that, too.”

They trekked to the center of the village. The elder was seated outside his house, as before.

“This is Elasa, of Earth,” Mona said. She did not mention the machine aspect, as they did not want to advertise it. “She has questions, if you care to answer.”

The elder smiled. Elasa was a beautiful woman, and not pregnant. “A pleasure.”

“I just met a grown sheep, a ewe,” Elasa said. “For is, the Ewe. She bowed to me. I understand that's unusual.”

“It is,” the elder said. “It is almost unheard of. It may be a mark of respect for some future association. They are precognitive.”

“But I am here only for a week. Then I will exchange back to Earth, and probably not visit this world again.”

“They know. They are sheep, not smart, but they know. Your future commands their respect.”

“Thank you. My other question relates to the ram's island. I understand the ewes go there once a year to breed, and that they normally recruit a human couple to accompany them. But why? They don't seem to need humans for anything else; why bother with them for that?”

“That is one of their mysteries,” the elder said. “Normally when the trip is done, the humans and animals separate from the sheep and have no further interaction with them. The several species leave each other entirely alone the rest of the time. Their bringing a lamb to be with a human is a remarkable divergence from that pattern; these are interesting times. I can only conjecture that something extraordinary is in the making. What it is, only the sheep know, if they know.”

“If they know?”

“An I said, they're not smart, but they are remarkably savvy. I think they follow trails through the jungle, knowing that they go to desirable places. To them the future is a jungle, and they follow a trail. They may not know exactly where it goes, just that it's the right trail. We will surely learn where it leads in due course.”

“That's sensible,” Elasa said, smiling prettily. “Thank you.”

The elder shook his head. “You are lovely. I would never have taken you for a machine.”

“You know?” Elasa asked, not thrilled.

“I did the supply ship captain a favor, once long ago. He returned it by sending a fembot for a night. I know that body well. But I also know the difference between a program and a conscious person. You're a person.”

Elasa laughed, relieved. “Thank you.”

“I will not mention this aspect elsewhere.”

“Thank you,” she repeated. Then she kissed him. He did not react, but she knew he really liked it.

They moved on. Elasa remained troubled. What could be in her future that the sheep found so significant?

“So it seems we'll have to work out the rationale for the human participation ourselves,” Mona said.

“Yes, I think we'd better. Mysteries are unsafe. Meanwhile I will need a supply of flesh blood, pheromones, and poison.”

“The local butcher should be able to help.”

They went to the butcher, and he agreed to sell them some blood. He also had pheromones and poison, which he used to doctor bits of meat for thieving animals to find. He would have a fresh batch in the morning.

At their house they made the animals comfortable, then settled down for a serious three way discussion. Why did the sheep require human beings along on their breeding trip? There had to be a solid reason. What could it be?

“Something else I don't properly understand,” Elasa said. “Colony Jones has breathable atmosphere and edible plants and animals, albeit with some highly significant differences from those of Earth. Did they somehow interbreed with native species to produce things like the remarkable sheep?”

“There are no native species,” Brian said. “Jones was colonized by Earth fifty years ago. They called the ship that brought all the animals, plants, and bacteria Noah's Ark.”

Now Mona was surprised. “How did they diverge so widely, then? The sheep may look like Earth sheep, but they have defensive knives and precognition. And the people, Elves, for example.”

“Humans, Elves, Ogres, Fairies, Goblins, that we know of,” Brian said. “They can all interbreed, but they are quite different.”

“Natural evolution can hardly account for that,” Mona said. “Not in fifty years.”

“Well, there was ExplEvo.”

“There was what?”

“I forgot you're not native. That's Explosion Evolution. It comes and goes like HiLo, only less often. There was one about five years after the colonization. That's when the present diversity occurred.”

“That's interesting,” Elasa said. “Before I exchanged I downloaded the files on Colony Jones. There was nothing of that nature therein. In fact there seemed to be missing files relating to its early history.”

“I don't think Earth even knew about Jones until the last decade,” Brian said. “It wasn't considered a colony.”

“What was it, then?” Mona asked sharply.

“A scientific or military experiment. I think they wanted to see what happened if an assortment of plants and animals was settled on an Earth-like planet and then left alone. But finally they had to recognize it as a colony, thanks to the influence of the sheep, and now we even get exchange students.” He smiled at Mona.

“Who are studying precognition,” Elasa said.

“I'm surprised the military didn't clamp down on that,” Mona said. “If ever a discovery had military significance, it's precognition.”

“Well, I don't think they took it seriously,” Brian said. “Not until the sheep predicted those discoveries on Earth. Now it's too late; the cat's out.”

“Let's get back to the original question,” Elasa said. “Why do the sheep require human beings along on their breeding excursions?”

“Well, there's a peddle-raft they use to cross to the island,” Brian said. “The sheep can't work it. Humans can.”

“Or an ape, as I said. Or a regular hireling. Or a robot.”

The others shrugged, not knowing.

Elasa remained unsatisfied. “Couldn't they make a bridge, or a sheep handle-able craft?”

“No. Then the rams would cross, and be after the ewes full-time. So it has to be something the sheep can't do alone.”

“So back to the question: why a human couple? Couldn't two women do the job?”

The others looked at her, startled. “Two women?” Mona said. “I suppose they could. But the sheep insist on a man.”

“Why?”

“We don't know,” Brian said. “It's just always been that way.”

“The sheep must have a reason” Mona said.

“Precisely. We need to fathom that reason.”

“Maybe this,” Mona said, exercising her legalistically logical mind. “The gender the vamps orient on isn't fixed. They focus on the first mammal that comes to the river. Normally that would be a ram, seeking to escape and go after the ewes. But any male mammal will do. If there are only female mammals on that raft, the vamps will orient on them, manifest as males, and suck them dry. So there has to be that one male, to set them in the female mode. Then the ewes can cross. The vamps are not smart, just hungry, so they can be managed.”

“And now it's not working!” Brian exclaimed. “Or won't, in the near future. Some are starting to orient on females regardless of the presence of a male. Those are the ones we have to stop.”

“That works for me,” Elasa agreed. “So we do need you along, Brian, to make them female. Those that go for me are the ones to kill.”

“That's it,” he agreed.

“But there's a complication.”

“I hate those things!”

“Who is going to protect you from the lady vamps?”

“Why Mona, of course.” Then he paused. “Only she's pregnant.”

“I am,” Mona agreed. “So Elasa may have to do it.”

“Except that I must go after the male vampires,” Elasa said. “I need my vagina free.”

Mona sighed. “I will have to do it, carefully. That will also protect me from the male vamps. I don't want them sucking my blood.”

“Fortunately Bunky is too young to respond to pheromones,” Elasa said. “He should be safe, as Vulture and Python are.”

“Safe from the vamps,” Mona agreed.

“Then I think we know our course,” Elasa said.

In the morning they went to the butcher shop to pick up the supplies. When they were beyond it, with a warm full gallon jug, Elasa simply put it to her mouth and drank it down. Her system would convey it to the appropriate reservoir. She saved the pheromones and poison for later application.

The Ewe appeared, as they had thought she would. She marched into the forest, and they followed. Brian carried Bunky in a body sling, and Mona used a staff to bolster her balance and footing. Elasa herself had no problem, and neither did Vulture or Python. It was an odd party of seven.

After an hour the Ewe halted. This was not a rest break; a dire wolf stood in the path ahead.

“And where there is one, there is a pack,” Brian murmured. “There will be more behind us. That's how they hunt.”

Bunky bleated.

“Suddenly I have a desire to play my mirliton,” Brian said, surprised.

“Do it,” Mona said. “It must be the will of the sheep, translated by the Lamb's telepathy.”

Brian lifted Bunky out of the harness and set him on the ground. Elasa stepped up to take the harness, then put Bunky in it; they had agreed to shift off periodically. The Lamb accepted this, but looked at her with an odd appraisal.

“Yes, I'm not flesh,” Elasa said. “But I am a woman.”

Bunky seemed reassured.

Brian lifted his instrument and played.

The wolf in front looked confused. Then it backed away, and soon was gone.

“Music has charms to soothe the savage beast,” Mona said. “A misquote, but relevant at the moment.”

Brian ceased playing, and the wolves did not return. That was a relief. But Brian held the mirliton ready for further play the moment it was needed. Wolves could be cunning.

They resumed their march. Elasa had little to fear for herself; her mechanical body would be virtually invulnerable to animal attack. But that was not the case for the others. She was glad the sheep knew the safe route.

“Uh-oh,” Brian said.

“Problem?”

“We're headed into ogre country. They're not necessarily friendly.”

“Trust the sheep,” Mona said tightly.

Elasa nodded, appreciating the relevance of the saying. Indeed, Bunky was not alarmed. Up this close, Elasa was coming to appreciate his moods. He was an ordinary lamb, with a couple of remarkable exceptions.

Soon the path was blocked again, this time by a huge hairy man shape: an ogre. He stood about half again as tall as Brian, and was broad in proportion. Elasa was amazed at the difference between the ogre and the elf; they were aspects of the same species? They could interbreed? That could be mischief of another nature.

The ogre spoke, addressing the Ewe. “This is Ogre Country, sheep. We'll let you pass, per our pact, but what about these six other freaks?”

The Ewe bleated.

Evidently the ogre understood her. “Yeah? They still gotta pay. You know the rule.”

Pay? Elasa did not like the sound of this.

Bunky bleated. Elasa had heard that tone before.

Brian lifted his mirliton and played more classical music.

The ogre took stock. “Maybe so.”

More ogres appeared, but neither Ewe nor Lamb evinced alarm. Neither did Vulture or Python. “Something's up,” Mona said.

Then one ogre bent down, put his arms about the Ewe, and lifted her into the air. She neither fought nor protested. In a moment she was supported by a harness similar to the one Elasa was now using with Bunky.

“Definitely up,” Elasa agreed. She knew that no one could even touch a sheep without approval, and not just because of the hidden knives. The precognition made it almost impossible. The Ewe was not merely tolerating this, she had expected it.

Then the other ogres closed on the other members of their party. One put his huge hands on Python, picked him up, and wrapped him around his body. Vulture flew up to perch on that ogre's shoulder.

“They're carrying us!” Mona exclaimed. “The Ewe made a deal!”

“Yes she did,” an ogre agreed. This one seemed to be female, but was almost as hulking as the males. “Transport for music.” Then she put her hands on Mona, lifted her up, and set her in a harness in front. She sat facing forward, her head just below the ogresses head, her body before the chest, cushioned by the massive bosom.

A male ogre picked Brian up, still playing his mirliton, and set him in a similar harness.

The last ogre came for Elasa, another female. She lifted Elasa together with Bunky effortlessly and set them in her harness. Now they were five ogres carrying seven members of the party.

They moved out. The pace seemed leisurely, but Elasa could see that humans afoot would have had to run madly to keep up. The forest foliage was fairly whizzing by.

“I believe I know you,” the ogress said to Elasa. “The metal maiden.”

Elasa had known the ogres could talk, but was nevertheless startled. “You are correct, but how did you know?”

“Word gets around. We knew there was a mission to Ram's Island which must be special, because it is out of turn. The ewes are not breeding at the moment. That suggests exchanges from Earth, perhaps scientists coming to study the vampires. Then when I picked you up I was immediately aware that you are not flesh. You have to be a humanoid robot. Since you are not being employed as a fembot, you must be self-willed. There is only one such robot we know of.”

“The metal maiden,” Elasa agreed. “I am here to deal with a dangerous vampire variation, being invulnerable to their depredation. But my presence here, indeed my absence from Earth, is not being advertised. It's a private mission.”

“It shall remain so. I asked only out of curiosity. We have not seen your like here before.”

“Hardly surprising,” Elasa agreed. “But I am surprised by you. I assumed—no offense intended—that ogres were relatively dull brutes. You do not seem at all dull or brutish to me now. May I ask your name? Mine is Elasa.”

“Mine is Oria, a variant of Oriana, meaning ‘girl of the white skin.’ My skin is white, if you could see it under my black body hair. We are human variants, and retained our minds despite the change in our bodies. All the variants did. Of course that may not hold true for the next ExplEvo. Meanwhile we do what we can, hoping for redemption.”

“Redemption?”

“From ignorance. My passion is science, but little of it manifests in the backwoods of a colony planet.”

“Science?” Elasa was surprised anew.

“Specifically, quantum mechanics, though I also have a general interest in other disciplines. All we know is what we knew when our fathers colonized this planet. We cherish that, but long for further information as it is discovered. Did they ever find the Higgs Boson?”

“Yes, they finally did,” Elasa agreed.

“So the Standard Model is confirmed?”

“Yes, but mysteries remain.”

“Oh how I long to visit Earth and study those mysteries!”

“Just as my friend Mona, here, exchanged to study the precognition of the sheep. Maybe you can exchange similarly.”

“No. Student exchanges are extremely limited, I think because of budget cuts, and only normals are invited.”

“Normals?”

“Those who appear most classically human. Somehow an Elf qualified, in your friend's case; we're not sure how that happened.”

“Elen Elf seduced and married an exchange student from Earth. That qualified her.”

“I doubt that option is available to me. Ogresses are not winsome like Elves.”

“Yet it should be your mind that counts, as that is all that is exchanged.”

“What should be is not necessarily what is,” the Ogress said sadly. Elasa now thought of her as capitalized, as it seemed the Elves were also.

Bunky bleated.

“Oh?” Oria asked. “Are you sure?”

The Lamb actually nodded his head.

Elasa was startled again. “You understand him?”

“Well enough. It is not linguistic so much as feeling. He picked up my passion for Earth science, and indicates that you can oblige it if you choose.”

“I can authorize an exchange program that includes Ogres?”

“Yes. He is sure.”

“But I'm just a nobody, a housewife with no political or economic influence.”

Oria laughed. “You're the first and only conscious humanoid robot. The whole world knows of you, and so do we, from the network that spreads out from the Normals’ village. Spacemen talk, especially when being entertained by pretty colony girls.” She frowned. “Just not about quantum mechanics. And the Ewe bowed to you, the second time in a decade.”

“Mona was the first,” Elasa agreed. “But we can't say we properly understand what it means.”

“It means that your future actions will profoundly affect the sheep, and probably the planet. So you will have power.”

“I don't see how,” Elasa said. “But I will promise you this: if by some mischance I do get the authority, I will see that the student exchange program is broadened to include the other human variants, here in Colony Jones.”

“Oh, thank you! That is the most wonderful news I have had in my life.”

“I only hope the sheep are right, this time,” Elasa said. “I am tremendously impressed with what they can do, but this does seem out of reach.”

“It is not. We trust the sheep.”

Elasa became aware of the route they were traveling, because her feet were getting wet. The ogres were fording a forest river. It came up to just below her bottom in the harness. She was glad that Mona did not have to endure the numbing chill water. She also saw that there were ripples in the water, as of lurking crocodiles. Brian continued playing classical music on the mirliton, paying the ogres for their service. Elasa was coming to really appreciate that service. This would not have been a pleasant excursion, on their own.

Farther along they came to a small desert, or at least burning hot black sand. The ogres handled it, barefooted. Beyond that was a pleasant pasture with fruit trees and tall grass. The ogres stopped. “Rest stop,” Oria announced. “Half an hour.”

It was clear that Brian and Mona were glad to stretch their legs and go into the brush to catch up on natural functions. So were Vulture and Python, though they remained close to Bunky, guarding him as they relaxed. Elasa checked the nearest tree, and found that its ripe fruit was like a cross between an apple and a pear. She harvested several, and presented them to Brian and Mona when they were ready. The Ewe merely grazed, efficiently.

Soon they were remounted and on their way again. Brian resumed his music. Elasa recognized the current piece: Marche Slav. The ogres were marching to it.

They came to a hot narrow valley. Here the ogres paused. The Ewe bleated. Satisfied, they moved on across the valley.

“That's interesting,” Oria remarked. “The Lamb knows there is weather danger here, not the HiLo, but similar in its devastation. We had to have the Ewe's approval, to be sure of safe passage.”

“You really do trust the sheep.”

“Oh, yes. They know.”

Then they came to something alarming: a sharply angled mountain slope leading down to a river of lava. “We need to cross this?” Elasa asked. It looked to be too steep to maintain footing.

“It is the route. The route changes with eruptions and quakes, but at present this is best.”

Now the ogres proceeded carefully. They stepped out on the slope, big bare feet seeming to grip the stone. They stepped ahead, forming a line.

Elasa remained absolutely still. She was invulnerable to most things, but not to boiling lava. If the Ogress slipped and they fell in, they were doomed. She was sure Brian and Mona were similarly nervous.

The ogres did not slip. They slowly made their way across, with their burdens, and resumed speed beyond the slope. They came to a broad orange plain flush with tall grass. Now the ogres paused to lift them down to the ground. “Journey over?” Elasa asked.

“No,” Oria said. “This is wolf country.”

“And they attack in packs,” Elasa said. “I have heard about that.”

“Yes. We can protect you, but we need to be free to use our weapons. You will walk in the center of our defensive circle.”

They made the formation, with the five ogres outside, wielding their giant clubs, the seven travelers inside. Elasa still carried Bunky; that would enable her to protect him. They started across the field.

Nothing happened. Did the presence of the ogres dissuade the wolves from attacking? Or were they simply gathering their pack?

When they were well into the field, the attack came. A dozen dire wolves charged in from all sides. Five clubs smashed into them so hard that their bodies flew back the way they had come, broken.

But the remaining seven leaped over the bodies of their comrades and smashed into the ogres before they could recover their swings. The ogres grabbed them and squeezed them in bear-hugs. Elasa could hear ribs cracking.

That left two wolves. One came at the Ewe and was promptly skewered. The other came at Bunky, and was met by Elasa's small fist. Directly on the nose, staving it in. That made the giant beast pause momentarily. It evidently had not realized it was not dealing with a weak woman, but a machine. Then it tried to bite her. It still had not caught on. Elasa put both hands on its mouth, against its teeth, and moved them apart with a force no human could match. The jaw hinge was popped apart, leaving the wolf unable to bite.

She saw the Ewe looking at her. She realized that the sheep had known she would do that. So had Bunky. Elasa herself hadn't known until the moment; she had simply done what offered. Normally she tried never to show her strength; it was not ladylike.

Then their formation moved on, leaving twelve hurting wolves behind.

“Fortunately it was a token effort,” Oria remarked beside Elasa. “They had to make a show of force, because this is their territory, but they knew they could not prevail while the sheep was with us.”

“A token effort!” Elasa exclaimed. “They are all dead or dying!”

“They sent expendable youngsters. If they had been serious, they'd have sent twice as many.”

“And we would have been lost?”

“No. The sheep would not have crossed the field. We trusted her to know the parameters.”

Elasa shook her head. This was not her world.

Beyond the field the ogres put away their clubs, picked up their burdens, and resumed their rapid trek as if it had never slowed. They waded through a quicksand bog almost with enthusiasm, and crossed a bridge over a vent that showed lava far down in its deep cleft.

How could their party ever have made this journey on its own? It seemed impossible. Then Elasa realized that the Ewe had known the ogres would help, and counted on it. It had always been part of the plan.

Not far short of nightfall they came to a larger body of water. The ogres halted well back from its bank. “Here we must leave you to your devices,” the ogre leader said. “We do not care to tangle with the vampires. But we will be ready when you return.”

Brian stopped playing his mirliton and set it aside. “Thank you, ogres. We truly appreciate your assistance.”

“Your music is lovely.” Then the ogres retreated.

“Let's make camp for the night,” Elasa suggested. “We can tackle the vampires in the morning.”

The others were glad to agree.

Chapter 6:

Vampires

In the morning after they had cleaned and eaten, Mona surveyed the situation, walking along what turned out to be an inland sea with Brian and Elasa, but at a reasonable distance, so as not to evoke the vampires. The scene seemed placid, with fairly ordinary trees resembling oaks, elms, birch, beech, and hickory, buttressed by ordinary shrubs and grasses. In the sea was an island large enough to support a fair community of trees and creatures. That would be where the rams lived. There was nothing to suggest any horrible danger. That was of course one of the deceptive things about this whole planet: it masked its dangers.

They returned to the inlet where the peddle-boats were tied. There were three, and any one was large enough to hold their full party. Not that they planned to cross to the island. They would use one to go far enough out across the water to attract the vampires. Then Elasa would do her thing.

“Now I need to test the pheromones,” Elasa said. “I will need to borrow Brian.”

“Borrow him,” Mona agreed. What choice did she have?

Elasa dabbed moisture behind her ears, like perfume. She went to stand before Brian. “Try to resist me,” she said.

“That should be no problem,” he said, sniffing. “You're not my woman.”

Elasa merely waited. “Oh, damn,” Brian muttered. “I'm hard as rock.”Suddenly he grabbed her, kissing her and running his hands over her body. She acceded without showing emotion. “I don't want to do this.” He ground his hips against hers. “Stop me!”

Elasa caught his wrists in her hands and held him helpless. “But if I let you, you'd be in me now.”

“Yes! I can't stand it! I've got to have you!”

“Mona, wash me off.”

Mona dipped a cloth in the sea, and used it to wipe Elasa behind the ears. In moments Elasa let Brian go and he stumbled back, breathing hard. “It works,” he said.

“That is what I needed to know.”

He looked at Mona. “I'm sorry. I'm ashamed. It just--”

“I understand,” Mona said, kissing him. “It was a test. Now we know what makes the vampires so potent. Time to get on with the mission.”

“Time,” he agreed, relieved.

They selected a boat. “Now how many of us go out to sea?” Mona asked. “I don't think we all need to board.”

“Brian must,” Elasa said. “To attune the vampires, assuming our theory is correct. That means you too, Mona, to shield him. And me, to tackle the male vamps. I don't think the animals need to put themselves at risk for this.”

They looked at the four animals. The Ewe was grazing, with Bunky nibbling. Vulture and Python paused, then departed, doing their hunting. That meant that all was well, by their definition.

“Yet not necessarily easy,” Brian said. “They just know that we will handle it, one way or another.”

“Maybe also that their presence on the boat would mess up our project,” Mona said. “The male vamps might orient on some of them instead of us.”

“And we do want them orienting first on the human male,” Elasa said. “So that we can identify the exceptions and take them out. Shall we take our positions?”

This was the aspect Mona didn't like. It wasn't that she objected to sex with Brian, but she hated teasing him when she was pregnant. But it had to be done.

They stripped, boarded the boat, and took their places. Elasa stood at the prow. Brian mounted the pedals, while Mona sat on the padded stool before him. She spread her legs and carefully took him in. They held each other for balance. They were ready.

Elasa loosed the mooring rope. Brian started paddling. The paddle-wheel turned. The boat moved slowly into the sea.

Now Mona suffered a spot siege of apprehension as she looked past Brian's torso on either side: would the vamps really appear? Or would the three people turn out to have exposed themselves to embarrassment for nothing? Certainly no vampires were in evidence. The water was calm, with the only ripples being those made by the wake of the boat as it moved.

Then small white balls of mist formed just above the surface. They floated there, expanding, drifting toward the boat.

“Oh, my!” Brian said.

“What do you see?” Elasa asked.

“Breathtakingly lovely nude girls,” he said. “Exactly as described: high-breasted, wasp-waisted, with marvelously flowing tresses. Some are brunettes, some blondes, some red-haired. They are walking on the water, or maybe floating just over it. Every movement of their bodies is magic.”

Indeed, Mona felt his member swell within her. He was reacting to the vamps, who evidently reached into his mind to read and then project images of his ideal sexual partners, along with pheromones to guarantee his reaction.

“What do you see?” Brian asked somewhat breathlessly.

“Blobs of mist,” Mona said.

“I will answer later,” Elasa said, sounding surprised. “I will say it is not what I expected.”

The mist balls floated close. Brian reacted further.

“We can't see what you see,” Mona said. “Tell us.”

“One is coming close now,” he said. “She has jet-black hair to her waist, like Mona on Earth. She says her name is Lova, and she is to be my playmate of the hour.”

Mona saw the mist almost touching him, but all she heard was the gentle swish of a passing breeze. She was flattered that the image of his ideal woman was herself in her original body.

“She's going to kiss me.” Then he stiffened, against her and in her.

“Cover his mouth,” Elasa rapped. “Their kisses are dangerous, because of the pheromones.”

Mona put her face up to his, displacing the mist, and kissed his mouth. Gradually his body relaxed. The vampire was no longer infusing him. She might look like mere mist to Mona, but her impact was obvious.

She eased up on the kiss. “Is she gone?”

“No. She's floating just above me, spreading her legs wide, using her fingers to pull apart her—her labia, to expose her—her--”

Mona knew he was searching for a polite word. “Cleft.”

“Yeah. Now she's trying to get close to me in front, but you're in the way. She's mad.”

Mona felt the light brush of mist against her back. “I'll bet. Tell her to go fuck herself.”

“She heard that!” he said. “She's furious!”

“Good.”

“Is there anything else yet?” Elasa asked.

Mona looked around. “Oh, my!” she breathed, echoing Brian's first comment.

“You see her?” Brian asked.

“Not her. Him.”

“Who?” Elasa asked.

Mona described what she saw. “One supremely handsome man, a virtual Adonis, lean and muscular, with the world's most formidable member. Oh, how I'd like to get that inside me!”

“Oh, you would?” Brian asked, nettled.

“Sorry. Must be the pheromones. There's just this enormous sexual urgency.”

“You're teasing me.”

“No. Just saying that now I appreciate what you are experiencing. The sight of pure sex appeal and damn the consequences.”

“I don't see anything but a waft of gray mist, where you're looking.”

“You're not female,” she retorted.

“Greetings, fairest damsel,” the male said. “I am Magnus, the most virile lover you will encounter. But there seems to be a lumpy obstruction. Get rid of it so you can welcome my passion.”

Mona realized that now Brian's body was shielding her the way hers was shielding him. Such was the power of the pheromones that she wanted to separate from Brian so she could enjoy the complete attention of Magnus. But she did know better. “Sorry, Magnus; I can't oblige.”

“You're talking with it?” Elasa asked.

“Am I ever! This guy is passion incarnate. He's got the most beautiful member I've ever seen.”

“The first male vampire,” Elasa said, satisfied. “I am activating my pheromones and the other.” She faced them, striking a pose, her breasts high, her legs spread, hair flaring out behind her. She had one of the world's finest figures, by no accident. “Magnus! She's occupied. But I'm not. Come to me.” But would the vamps take her for a living woman?

“Well, now,” Magnus said appreciatively as he sniffed the air. He left Mona, to her peripheral disappointment, and moved toward Elasa.

Elasa was not at all coy. She opened her arms and enfolded the male. Mona saw his huge erect penis orienting on her cleft as if prehensile, as might be the case. It found the place and pushed in, slowly and deeply. Mona suppressed her jealousy; she had wanted that divine member sliding into her channel. In an instant he was thrusting vigorously, surely spurting his illustrious elixir of love. And Elasa was taking it all in, exclaiming with rapture. “Oh, Magnus! What a stud you are! Where have you been all my existence?”

Mona was disgusted. Elasa was using her faked fembot charms that any person could see through. As if mere penetration evoked divine rapture.

The copulation continued for minutes. Mona could see that member pulsing as it continued to slide in and out. It seemed that his ejaculation was not the mere spoonful that a human man could muster, but a cupful or more, coursing steadily through that hot conduit. Elasa took it all in, endlessly ecstatic. How could Magnus fall for that act?

“I feel you reacting,” Brian said.

“As I felt you,” she agreed. “He is delivering the world's most voluminous charge of semen.” And it could have been hers, if only.

“All I see is a waft of mist up against her front. She's pushing into it as if it's alive. Ridiculous!”

“Asked and answered.” He simply could not see the Adonis.

At last Magnus finished. He drew out his fine long member and floated blissfully away. Immediately the next handsome male came, embracing Elasa, thrusting into her open channel, as virile as the prior specimen. And she welcomed him as she had the first, fickle as she was. She seemed to want every drop of his liquid passion.

This one, too, took several minutes while Elasa exclaimed in continuous delight. They certainly didn't stint their delivery! Brian and Mona, mutually unsatisfied, watched it all, though knowing they were seeing two different things.

In the course of half an hour Elasa went through half a dozen eager males. It seemed she had exhausted them all. Only then, with the pheromones fading, did Mona remember: those were vampires. They had not been delivering semen, but sucking blood. That was why it had taken longer; they did transfer a cup rather than a spoonful, in the other direction. Such was the power of the pheromones and illusion that Mona had blanked out the reality she knew. Talk of denial!

“I don't feel well,” Magnus said. Indeed, he looked ill, and in moments sank down into the water. The poison was taking effect!

Before long the others followed. “They're dying!” Mona exclaimed.

“So I see,” Elasa agreed.

“You see them? I thought you couldn't.”

“I couldn't see what you saw, but I did see the reality. It was amazing. Fortunately I was prepared, and the poison was effective. I feared it would not be.”

“The sheep approved it,” Mona reminded her. “They knew.”

“So they did. It paid to trust them.”

“Now let's get off the water. The females are still after Brian.”

“Oh, yes,” he agreed, albeit it with a tinge of regret.

Brian paddled and Elasa steered. Soon they were back on shore, safe from the vampires. Mona carefully disengaged from Brian. Their connection had worked, and they had protected each other, but it was not at all the way she would have preferred it.

Well back from the shore, when they were dressed, Mona followed up on her question. “What did you see, Elasa?”

“I'm not sure you really want to know. Maybe it would be better to accept that we have dealt with the male vampires and safeguarded the crossing for the next batch of ewes.”

Mona exchanged a glance with Brian. “We do want to know. We saw pretty girls or handsome men, or blobs of mist, depending on relative genders. We were largely overwhelmed by the pheromones. You, we gather, unaffected by the pheromones, saw neither. But you did see something. In fact you had copious sex with them. That must have been the true form of the vampires. We want to know exactly what they are.”

“You will not accept my conclusion that you would rather not know?”

“We will not.”

Elasa sighed. “Then I will tell you. The vampires are not human, or animal, or misty astral beings. They are carnivorous plants.”

Both Mona and Brian were startled. “Like the Venus Flytrap?” Mona asked.

“Yes, to a degree. They use pheromones to attract prey, the way some plants do. Buttressed by evocative illusions. Then they suck the blood.”

“That much we knew,” Brian said. “But plants? How can they have sex with people, even vampirish sex?”

“They grow under the water. They extend feeding stalks up above the water.”

“We saw no stalks,” Mona said.

“You saw projected illusions,” Elasa said. “The plants tuned into your minds and either fogged out the stalks, or converted them to seductive male or female images. The combination of pheromones and illusion is deadly effective.”

“You say stalks,” Brian said. “How can plant stalks have sex, regardless of pheromones or illusions?”

“In the case of the male illusions, which I suspect are much the same as the female ones, all that is real as far as the prey is concerned is the penis. That penis enters the vagina, locks in, and sucks out blood. I provided that blood, giving six males good meals. It is just as well there were not any more; they took most of my supply.”

“They poked their stalks into your vagina,” Mona said. “And sucked your blood. As they would have sucked mine. You're right; I'm not comfortable knowing that.”

“The females,” Brian said. “How do they do it?”

“I believe that their stalks are thicker, at least at the end,” Elasa said. “So they form a hollow, a sheath that the penis can fit into. Similar to a masturbatory device; the rest of a female is not required, other than illusion. They take in the penis, clamp on it, puncture it, and suck its engorged blood.”

Brian looked as if he wanted to guard his penis with his hands. “Right again; I'm not comfortable with that knowledge. But I think it is better that we know it.”

“I'm still having trouble visualizing it,” Mona said. “I don't see how simple stalks could accomplish so much. I should think they would bend, or break off, or something.”

“No they are strong and supple,” Elasa said. “But maybe I can show you.”

“We already saw you having sex with them!” Mona said.

“Yes, lethal sex, reversing the ploy,” Elasa agreed. “I am thinking that if I capture one, and tame it, you will be able to see it as it is.”

“Tame a vampire?”

“In a manner. If we can find a young one, amenable to domestication, it may be possible.”

Mona was dubious, yet also curious. It would be interesting to see a vampire not as a mock man or a patch of mist, but as itself. Whatever it might be.

They approached the water, cautiously. “There's one,” Brian said, pointing. “Young, barely nubile, virginal, with lovely red hair coursing around her breasts. Immensely appealing. She's beckoning to me.”

Mona looked and saw a small ball of mist. “Don't touch her!”

“I wasn't going to,” he said insincerely. “Even though Venus says she wants me to be her very first lover.”

“Venus?” Mona asked sharply.

“Maybe she drew that name from my memory, telepathically,” he said. “You know, the morning star.”

“The goddess personifying sexual attractiveness,” Mona said shortly. In that moment, her pregnancy annoyed her. She simply could not compete.

“But nevertheless a plant,” Elasa said. “Growing at the shallow edge. I'll need a pot.”

“Go make a pot,” Mona told Brian, who was staring at the mist with entirely too much interest. It was evident that even a young, virginal vamp who did not resemble Mona's body on Earth had the pheromones to do the job.

Reluctantly he walked away, looking for the makings.

Elasa doffed her clothing again and got into the water. She felt down under the mist. “Not much of a root system. They really need the blood to fill out their diet. Good. But I'll need Bunky's advice before I try to pot it.”

“Bunky's advice?” This interesting project had become uncertain in Mona's mind. This was a new aspect. “How so?”

“I will want to take Venus back to Earth with me, to study her telepathy. I need to be sure it's possible. Otherwise I'm wasting my time.”

“How could Bunky know that?”

“The precognition of the sheep can extend to Earth, as we know. Ask him if this will work.”

Mona walked back to where the Lamb was grazing, not far from the Ewe. He did more of that each day, though it was still far from enough to sustain him. She put her arm around him. “Bunky, Elasa wants to take Venus to Earth,” she said, speaking slowly to be sure her thoughts were focused. “Is this feasible?”

He looked at her. Then he looked at the Ewe and bleated. She responded with a bleat of her own. He looked at her and said “Yes.”

Mona almost fell over. Then she realized that he had not actually spoken in her language. He had bleated while projecting the thought of affirmation, and she had heard it. She realized further that he had done the same thing with the Ewe, bleating to get her attention, projecting the question, receiving her answer, then relaying it to Mona. Just as Bunky still needed his mother to feed him, he still needed her to buttress his fledgling power of precognition. That had probably been the case with the HiLo warning. In time the Lamb would achieve his full powers, but at present he was still learning.

“Thank you,” she said, squeezing his shoulder affectionately.

She returned to Elasa. “The sheep say it is feasible, but with a caution.”

“That's a relief!”

“You want to study telepathy the way I want to study precognition,” Mona said.

“Yes, that's part of my reason to come here. I would have helped you regardless, but projective telepathy may be as important as precognition. We need to study both. This way we can.”

“The Lamb and the Plant working together?”

“Exactly. Both here and on Earth.”

“But--” Mona stopped, disliking the thought.

Elasa looked at her as she climbed from the water. “What is it?”

“Bunky won't be a lamb forever. He'll grow up.”

“Maybe not.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“This is not the time.”

Mona didn't get it, but was annoyed. “I'll see how Brian is doing.”

Brian had made fair progress; he was after all a farm boy. He had gathered pieces of fallen wood and lashed them tightly together with vines to make a crude but effective pot. “It won't last forever, being organic,” he said. “But a few months should do.”

“Excellent!” Elasa said when she saw it. “Now I think I need Vulture and Python.”

“What for?” Brian asked.

“My memory banks say that on Earth, Venus Flytrap plants don't bother to go after flies if their soil is rich enough. So I need fertilizer, so that Venus won't go after you.”

“That makes sense,” Brian said. “I know she's a carnivorous plant, but when she comes on to me she's almost irresistible. I'd almost be willing to feed her, just to have her favor.”

“That is the danger,” Elasa agreed. “There's just the one of her, and she's small, so she wouldn't take a lethal amount of your blood. But it's better to avoid the vampire aspect if we can. She's not the sweet innocent sexy girl you see.”

He laughed appreciatively. “Are any of them? I mean even the human girls?”

Elasa smiled. “Sexy? Yes. Sweet? Maybe. Innocent? No. We all practice our wiles for a purpose. You saw me play-acting for the males, didn't you?”

She was flirting with him. Mona did not like that either. Elasa was too physically attractive, and still naked. Mona knew she was reacting like a jealous shrew; maybe it was the stress of this expedition getting to her. She suppressed it.

She went back to the Lamb. “Bunky, we need fertilizer for the plant, a special kind. Can Vulture and Python help?”

The Lamb walked to the edge of the water, where the vampire grew. Mona was alarmed, then remembered that he was too young to be affected by the pheromones. He sniffed the edge of the mist. Then he walked back.

“You got the specification?” Mona asked. She wasn't sure how either precognition or telepathy could relate, unless it was a matter of glancing at the plant's future to see whether it survived.

Bunky bleated. Vulture took off, flying into the forest. Python slithered rapidly in the same direction. They evidently understood the Lamb's request.

“It is lovely the way they interact,” Elasa said. “The sheep are the unifying force; the rest of us are merely accessories.”

Soon Vulture returned. Then Python, carrying what appeared to be a rotting bone in her mouth. The bird had evidently located it for the snake to carry. They went to Elasa.

“Thank you, friends,” Elasa said, taking the bone. She put it in the makeshift pot Brian had made, then scooped sand and mud from the edge of the sea to cover it over. Then she got down in the water and heaved a blob of gunk containing the mist-shrouded plant up and into the pot.

The mist dissipated. There was a single green stalk rising from the mass of mud, wavering as if wilting. Mona realized that for the first time she was seeing the predator plant as it was, without the clothing of illusion. Because of the shock of transplantation, forcing it to cut back on effects while it recovered.

“It's just a plant!” Brian exclaimed.

“She'll recover soon,” Elasa reassured him. “Then her roots will find the bone, and she'll have what she needs. She'll dump you.”

“How will I see her then?” he asked almost wistfully.

“That depends. Maybe as an innocent girl who's not hungry for you.”

“That's best,” he agreed with a trace of regret.

Mona was glad to agree.

Chapter 7:

Storm

The Lamb looked up, sniffing the air. He glanced at the Ewe. She bleated, evidently confirming his suspicion. Mona realized that the Ewe was constantly teaching the Lamb, encouraging him to develop his abilities. Only now, in the close contact of this journey, was Mona actually seeing it happen. What was it this time?

The Lamb went to Mona. “What is it, Bunky?” she asked, picking him up for a cuddle.

Then she felt the awful power of a sudden storm, a bad one. Already the Ewe was heading for cover. She must have waited for the Lamb to pick up on it, though it would have been better to get moving sooner.

“Storm!” Mona called. “We have to seek refuge. Soon!”

“Oh, damn,” Brian said. “Let's hope it's a small one.”

The others did not argue. They knew that if it alarmed the sheep, it was dangerous. Brian and Elasa, carrying the heavy pot, followed the Ewe, knowing she would know where it was safe. Mona went with them, carrying Bunky. Vulture and Python paced her.

“The ogres!” Brian said. “We must warn them!”

Bunky bleated. Vulture took off, flying toward the ogres’ camp. Mona hoped they would understand the nature of the warning. They had to realize that Vulture was not coming back merely to tease them. That she had been sent by the sheep. That should be enough.

The Ewe led the way along a narrow path through the forest, then up a steep rocky slope. Mona had not realized that there was a mountain this close, but of course she had not been paying much attention to the landscape. Soon they were above the tops of the trees. Surely there could not be a rain to make a flood this high!

Elasa took the pot alone, being stronger than she looked. Brian tried to take Bunky, to ease Mona's burden, but she shook her head. So instead he put an arm around her waist and lent her real support so she could make the climb without wearing herself out.

The living humans were puffing by the time they reached the level ledge overlooking the sea. Vulture was there, having flown directly after warning the ogres. Now Mona saw that the sea was small, roughly circular, with the island neatly filling the middle. The island, too, had a rocky peak in its center. She saw motion on it, and realized that the rams were climbing it. Oh yes, the storm was dangerous.

There was a cave in the wall of the ledge. Bones littered the path to it. “Bear!” Brian said. “We don't want to mess with that.”

“Tell the sheep,” Elasa said. “She's going right to it.”

Indeed, the Ewe went to the cave, entered it, and lay down in a passage leading deeper into the mountain. She chewed her cud.

“Now I get it,” Brian said. “If there's a bear in there, it won't come out past the Ewe. It will stay away until she's gone. We have the use of the front part of the cave.”

Elasa set the pot down. “To ride out the storm? When's it coming?”

Mona put Bunky down. He faced the opening and bleated. “Now,” she translated.

And that suddenly a sheet of rain was closing off the entry. It was as if a giant had dumped a bucket of water there, except that it kept coming. The splash from it made them back off. Fortunately the cave slanted down toward the mouth, and the ledge slanted toward the drop-off to the sea, so the water quickly drained away. Otherwise the cave could have been flooded in short order. But of course the bear would not have chosen it then, and neither would the Ewe.

They watched, fascinated, as the deluge continued unabated. “Earth does not make storms like this,” Mona murmured. “It must be at the rate of a foot an hour.”

“The sheep knew,” Brian said. “Anywhere on the ground would be awash. Sometimes such storms last a minute. Sometimes hours. We just have to wait it out.”

They sat and leaned against the cave wall, watching the opening as if it were a stage. It looked like a waterfall, and Mona realized that it could be that, in part, because the water flowing down the mountain would be sluicing past the opening.

When at last the rain stopped, as suddenly as it had begun, they stepped cautiously outside and looked around. Mona was amazed. The level of the sea had risen visibly around the island. In fact the water had covered the trees around its edge and made the central mountain a separate island. That was why the rams had gone there. The landscape beyond the lake was no better off; only occasional tall trees poked above the water.

“What do we do now?” Mona asked. “It will take days or weeks for the flood to abate.”

“We'll use the boat,” Brian said. Mona saw that the three boats had slipped their moorings and were drifting on the elevated sea. They were solid wood, uncovered, so were not waterlogged or damaged by the storm.

“How do we get a boat?” Mona asked. “I doubt that it is safe to swim.”

“I will do it,” Elasa said. She stripped her clothes once more, then dived into the water, though the surface was fifty feet below the ledge. Mona reminded herself that feminine as her friend looked, she was in fact almost invulnerable.

Elasa struck the water in a clean entry, then surfaced. She swam toward the nearest loose boat, making excellent time. Why not? She had plenty of power and endurance, and in this context was not bothering to conceal them. On Earth she normally did her best to stay within human limits, not wishing to attract attention.

She reached the craft, clambered onto it, mounted the pedal assembly, and used her legs. The paddle-wheel turned and the boat started to move. She was able to aim it for the land below their ledge. Mona saw Brian looking at Elasa's nude moving body and schooled herself against resentment. He had been sensitized to that body by their choice, not his. She had felt the power of the pheromones herself.

They descended the slope, Brian carrying the pot, Mona carrying Bunky. They did not have far to go, thanks to the heightened water level. They arrived at the new shore the same time as Elasa arrived, and soon scrambled aboard. Brian and Elasa helped the Ewe, taking hold of her fur on either side to help her get her front feet aboard, then her hind feet. Mona knew that such hands-on would never have been possible without the sheep's acquiescence. There was no sign of the vampires; the water level was now above their stem length.

Now, safely aboard, they were ready to move. But where?

Bunky stood at the prow and bleated, facing the water. The Ewe ignored him, letting him find the way. Brian worked the pedals, moving ahead. They slowly circled the island and came to the far side of the sea. There was an isthmus with water flowing over it. The sea was overflowing its boundaries, starting a river. There was their escape!

Except that it might be a rough current across newly-cut channels. Was it safe?

“Trust the sheep,” Brian said, though he looked uncertain.

They looked at the Ewe. She chewed her cut, unconcerned. It seemed that she was leaving that, too to the Lamb, perhaps as more practice.

Mona went to talk to Bunky. “Can we handle that river?”

He bleated yes.

“It's a go,” she announced. “Still, I think we'd better be prepared for some rough sailing.”

“Gather around the pedal housing,” Brian said. “With the animals in the middle. Hold on, and hope for the best.”

“The very best,” Mona agreed.

They gathered, with Ewe, Lamb, and Vulture up against the housing, Python coiled around a strut, and the pot tied firmly in the seat. Brian pedaled, with Mona and Elasa to either side. “Trust the sheep,” Mona murmured, in the manner of a prayer.

They moved toward the overflow. The closer they got the worse it looked. Yet the sheep were unconcerned. They knew the future, and it was safe. Unless there was a precognitive glitch that produced an error. Mona quelled the thought.

They came to the brink. Ahead the water coursed swiftly into a narrow valley that must have been dry before the storm. They tilted into the current, then accelerated. Now they were moving at a fair velocity. It was scary, yet also thrilling. The current was swiftest in the center, and that was where they needed to be, clear of snags on the sidelines.

The pace slowed as the water pooled in a declivity. Mona resumed breathing. The sheep had known. So far.

Brian pedaled, and the boat moved on to the other side of the small temporary lake. But what was beyond? This was not an established river, but a temporary drainage that might or might not make it to the external sea.

“I think I need to land and indulge some natural functions,” Mona said. “My innards are not used to excitement of this nature.”

“Uh-oh,” Brian murmured.

Was he being facetious? Then she realized what he was looking at.

There were dire wolves along the banks of the new river, peering at the raft. There would be no landing here.

“But it can wait,” Mona said.

They came to the far end, where the river narrowed. The raft would be almost within pouncing range. Indeed, the wolves seemed to be anticipating that.

The Ewe bleated.

The expression of consternation on the wolves faces was almost human. They evidently had not realized that sheep were aboard the craft. They knew that not only were sheep deadly, but that they knew the future. A sheep would not be here if not certain it was safe. That was bad news for predators, no matter how tempting the prospects. They had already suffered through the storm; they were not in a mood to gamble further.

The wolves faded back and were gone.

Mona wondered: was this a bluff by the sheep? Could the wolves have overwhelmed them if they had tried? Had the sheep known that the bluff would be effective? Were they capable of such reasoning, or did they merely know the outcome regardless? That last seemed most likely. What a benefit precognition was!

They moved on through the narrow channel. There was a very swift undercurrent that hauled the boat rapidly along. So swift that it seemed likely to have carried away any creature that tried to swim through it. So maybe it had not been a bluff, and the wolves would have suffered grievous losses if they had tried to attack.

Further along the water pooled again, forming a shallow lake. Brian guided the boat to the rough shore. “Now you can go pee,” he said diplomatically.

There was no objection from the sheep, so Mona climbed off the boat, found a place, and let go with more than one function. Her pregnancy made such things more urgent regardless. Then she rejoined the boat.

But now night was looming, and they had little food. They would have to anchor the boat and sleep on it, trusting the animals to be alert for any dangers.

Bunky bleated. Vulture and Python left the boat, flying and swimming, returning not long after with fruits that were floating in the water. Several trips produced enough for the humans, and the Ewe also ate a pear-apple that Mona held in place for her. So things were working out.

They spent the night in the center of the lake, and resumed travel in the morning. The level of the water was lower, and more of the forest was appearing as the land drained. Mona hoped they got to the sea before the river became unnavigable; she didn't want to hike cross-country through the devastation left by the flood.

Around midday the river ended. It simply fed into a swamp with no discernible outlet. Mona groaned internally.

“I recognize this bog,” Brian said. “It's just a few miles from home. We can hike there in a couple of hours.”

Mona felt weak with relief. That, at least, she could do.

Sure enough, by mid-afternoon they were back at the turnip farm,which it turned out had not been struck by the storm. The mission was over.

Mona and Brian retreated to their house and slept for much of the next day and night, recovering from the physical and emotional rigors of the excursion to the inland sea. Bunky, Vulture, and Python took care of themselves, remaining in touch with the Ewe. Elasa spent time communing with Venus in the pot.

When Mona resumed alertness, Elasa braced her for a serious discussion. “I can't take Venus to Earth with me,” she said. “I had hoped to do it by exchange with a potted Venus Flytrap plant on Earth, but I realize that won't work. Exchange is of consciousness and memory, and the plant has neither. That has to be the caveat the sheep had in mind. In any event, exchanging is temporary, not lasting much beyond six months for a person, maybe less for a plant. I need it to be permanent, at least to the extent of the life of the plant. Maybe by close association with sheep or humans she could develop an emulation; that remains to be seen. But I am not sufficient. Her telepathic projection does not work on me; to her I am a blank slate. So I think this is one more thing you will have to do.”

“This is awkward,” Mona said. “I don't pick up her projections either; all I see is a blob of mist.”

“That is her projection. It's their standard concealment broadcast, so that unwanted animals don't orient on them. They use the water for protection; their stalks are vulnerable, and they project them from the water only to feed. Venus is especially vulnerable in the exposed pot, and is in hiding mode, trying to survive. She needs reassurance I can't provide.”

“And I can? She'll go after Brian!”

“Yes you can and no she won't. You're living and feeling, and no, the bone I added to the soil provides the nourishment she needs. She is not in seduction mode, and I think Brian will see only the mist too. Only if that added nutrition is removed will she become dangerous in that manner.”

“It still makes me nervous. Elasa, I was jealous of the sex you had with the male vamps; I could see them. In my mind I resented you. I hated the way Brian looked at you. I am ashamed of that tawdry feeling now, and blame it on the stress of the occasion. I apologize to you now for that. But I am not a fit companion for that vicious plant.”

“You know I am a fembot, an emancipated sex machine. Sex is nothing to me. Friendship is everything. Your friendship.”

“I know. But somehow I wanted to be the one fornicating with those handsome men. I even resented my pregnancy, in that moment.”

“The pheromones were affecting you, as they did not affect me.”

“That's true,” Mona agreed, in retrospect seeing the obvious. “They had the same effect on me that the hormones of the female vamps had on Brian. Elasa, its really potent stuff. I don't want to be exposed to it again.”

“But Mona, that's what I need you for now! You can relate to Venus in a way I can't. Because you can respond to her pheromones and to her telepathy. I need her to be trained to do her illusions for us. Not merely sexy women for Brian, or balls of mist for you. I am convinced that that power of projecting illusions can extend to others, like ordinary non-sexual people, or pretty roses, or appealing food. Or to conceal what is there, making it in effect invisible. Drawing images from the mind of the beholder, showing him what he expects to see. That could be such a wonderful ability. You are here to study precognition, and that is fully worthy, but the ability to project illusions may have similar significance. We can use both, if we can only capture them. Please, Mona. You are my closest friend, the only one I can really trust with something like this. When Venus is properly trained, then you can ship her to me by spaceship, and you will be free of her. I beg you. Please.”

Mona melted. What could she do? Elasa was her closest friend too. “I will try.”

“Thank you, thank you!” Elasa hugged her, and Mona saw that there were tears in her eyes. She was a machine, but she was also a woman, with a woman's feelings. She truly cared about this.

The rest was routine. They took Elasa to the space office, where the return exchange was performed. Mike, the logistics officer, was there. When he ordered the fembot to return to her stall, she did without hesitation.

Mike shook his head. “I think I preferred her the other way.”

“We all do,” Mona said. “There is no one else like Elasa. On Earth she is married, with a baby.”

“With a baby!”

“It's a long story. I sincerely thank you for your cooperation. Our spot mission was successful.”

“I am glad of that.” They shook hands, and Mona departed.

But now she had a new and somewhat worrisome obligation: caring for, and attempting to train, the potted vampire plant. She was not sanguine about that, the mental pun on blood intended.

Yet Elasa was right: the secret of controlled projective telepathy was a thing that had to be grasped, if it was even close to being in reach.

She gazed at the potted plant. The stem hardly showed above the soil. Venus remained cowed, and there was no illusion. That evoked her sympathy.

“I will do what I can for you, Venus,” she promised, hoping she could deliver.

Chapter 8:

Wether

Bunky entered the house, picking up on her complicated mood. He nuzzled her, trying to cheer her; she knew this by his mind, which was increasingly open to her as he learned to handle human thoughts. She hugged him, appreciating the effort; it did help.

“I don't suppose you can look ahead and see what luck I'll have with Venus,” she said. But she knew he couldn't; human interactions were complex, subject to constant change. The sheep could precog fixed events, ones that were unaffected by decisions of the moment, such as the HiLo or the Storm, but not self-referential ones. Her act of deciding to take one course with the plant could lead to eddy-currents of feedback that caused her to take another course. The future truly was mutable. Shep and Elen had been lucky that the future discoveries the sheep foresaw could not be affected by the revelation, at that late stage. Precognition was no easy fix.

The Lamb sniffed the plant, as he had before by the sea. And the plant responded by lifting her stalk up slightly to meet his nose. Not to suck his blood; Elasa had taken care of that problem. Simply to greet him.

And that was interesting. Mona knew the stalk could be mobile; it had to be for sucking blood from visiting creatures. But seeing it respond to Bunky surprised her. Were they becoming friends? Elasa had harvested the plant, but Elasa was gone. The Lamb was the next creature she had met. Maybe that familiarity, buttressed by the Lamb's telepathy, reassured her. Assuming an unconscious plant could be reassured.

Unconscious? Then how did the sexy ladies talk to the men? The sexy men to the women? Mona had heard them talking to Elasa. Plants might not have natural consciousness, but these ones, tuning in to the minds of their prey, must have borrowed consciousness at that time. Their telepathy could lend them temporary consciousness. Maybe even temporary intelligence.

Bunky had telepathy. Venus had telepathy. Together they should be able to communicate more fully than would otherwise be possible. That was the start.

Mona put her face down beside the Lamb's head and the plant. “Help me, Bunky,” she said. Then to the plant: “Hello Venus,” she said, again speaking to properly frame her thoughts. “I am Mona. I will take care of you. Do you read me?”

The stem twisted, orienting on her. Then the image of a young woman formed, the virginal girl Brian had described. “Hello Mona. Are you my friend?”

Mona suppressed her intense excitement at the response, lest it blow apart the rapport. “I am your friend,” she agreed, knowing that with that utterance it became so. She had feared and loathed the vampire plants, but she had promised Elasa and she was committed.

“Please, my roots are hot. I am suffering.”

“Readily fixed,” Mona said. She went to fetch a wooden tub, poured some water in it, then set the pot in that water.

“Thank you. That feels so much better.”

“Now I will let you rest, Venus. We will talk again later.”

The image faded, replaced by the ball of mist. The plant had disengaged.

Mona hugged Bunky. “You made it possible,” she said, kissing his furry ear. Then she went to the bed and lay down, pondering what had just happened.

The Lamb had telepathy. It did not generally show, because it applied mainly to specific threats to be avoided or nullified, but it was there. The Plant had telepathy, generally used to draw images from the mind of prey and lure it in for a feeding. Again, not exactly what human beings thought of as telepathy, consisting of mental phone connections and sharing of emotions. But when the telepathy of Plant and Lamb got together, in the presence of Mona's human mind, they merged and included her in the circuit. They had borrowed her intellect and memory to communicate with her in her own fashion. Maybe Venus had not really spoken of friendship and roots, but Mona's mind had interpreted the signals and enabled her to understand. It would do. It was a significant breakthrough.

Could this three way connection also explore precognition? That would be the next thing to try.

She must have slept, because she woke an hour later. She went about normal household business, avoiding interactions with Lamb and Plant because she wasn't sure she was ready to take them further. But before long she surrendered and got back into it.

“Bunky, I want to learn about precognition,” she said as she stroked the Lamb. “I think joint communion with you and Venus may help. Are you willing to work with me?”

Bunky bleated yes. Actually he was amenable to almost anything she had in mind, except perhaps for baths.

They got together with the plant, which was looking better now. Small leaves were forming at the base of the central stalk. As she gazed at it, mist formed around it, concealing it.

They got close to the Plant. “Venus, I want to work with Bunky. Will you help?”

The virginal girl formed. “Yes. I like your ambiance.”

“And I like yours,” Mona agreed. “You're very pretty.”

The Venus-girl actually blushed. “Thank you.”

Mona suppressed thoughts on how the girl was acting exactly as Mona might imagine her to act. What counted was the rapport. “You have telepathic projection. You make illusions from the minds of creatures close to you. Bunky has precognition. He knows what is about to happen. I want to connect with his mind so that I can see what is about to happen. With your help maybe I can do it.”

“That's nice.” Evidently precognition was beyond the plant's ability to comprehend. And of course her thought was complicated.

“The close mind connection should do. Help me see the near future through Bunky's mind.” Could this possibly work?

Then Mona had a memory of herself walking outside the house, and stubbing her toe painfully on an unnoticed rock. “Oh!” she exclaimed, wincing.

The memory faded. But it was odd, because Mona had not stubbed her toe since she had exchanged to Elen's body. It was a false memory.

The Lamb glanced at her. He bleated. “Yet.”

Oh? Could it be? Mona stood, walked outside, and walked to where she remembered the rock. There it was by the edge of the path. She could readily have struck it with her foot had she not been looking. But of course she had been looking, and as readily avoided it. So it was no valid precognition.

Then she paused as a thought fought its way through her dismissal. She had been looking because she had been warned. She had remembered it happening, and avoided the toe-stub. It was valid precognition.

She stood in the path, working it out. She had assumed that precognition applied only to immutable events, like storms, not ones that could be changed. That was wrong. It applied also to things that could be changed. That was what made it so valuable. The fact that she had not stubbed her toe did not invalidate the precog, it validated it. It made it supremely useful.

She returned to the house, where Lamb and Plant waited. “It worked!” she exclaimed.

The girl formed. It seemed Venus did not project that illusion unless she had reason; it probably required energy. “You saw it happen. You changed it.”

“Let's do another!”

Mona practiced, looking ahead into her own immediate future, seeing things happen, then changed them with a mere thought of negation. She might cross the room, but the decision not to cross abolished it. She might open a window, or not. The difference between such conjectures was that she realized they were real actions, rather than intentions, until her decisions nullified them. She was actually seeing the future. It would have been easy to miss or dismiss, but for the toe-stub.

Then she saw Brian returning home. He had been helping with the turnip crop. She saw herself run out to kiss him. She negated that with a thought, then changed her mind, and as he arrived, she kissed him.

“What's the occasion?” he asked, surprised.

“I have precognition!” Then she explained it in a rush, and demonstrated it by calling out things he was about to do, or not to do; when in the mode she could see his near future too.

“So I'm making it with Venus,” she concluded. “She's helping me with both telepathy and precognition, by adding her telepathy to Bunky's. I am learning how to use mutable precognition: things that can be changed by their own prediction. It's not paradoxical, just not normally noticeable.”

“How can you notice something that doesn't happen?” he agreed.

Mona continued to work with Bunky and Venus. Not only did she become increasingly adept at seeing the near future, she got a hint of the far future. “There is reason to send Venus to Earth,” she said. “To be with Elasa. I have not been able to fathom what it is, but it is essential.”

“That is what she wants,” Brian agreed.

Next day she tried reaching further into the near future, and learned of a challenge. “There's a complication about sending Venus to Earth by spaceship. It can be done, but not immediately.”

“The ship leaves in a week.”

“That's the thing,” she insisted. “It doesn't.”

“It does,” he said. “Those servicing missions are regular as clockwork.”

“Not this time. I must go see Mike. After I do some spot research on him.”

She did, taking Bunky and Venus along. Her legal training enabled her to zero rapidly in on the essentials, the details others might miss, and the collaboration of Lamb and Plant facilitated it.

Mike greeted her warmly; Elasa's visit had impressed him.

“I need another favor,” she said. “Off the record. And I believe I can offer one in return.”

“Off the record?”

“This must not be bruited about. In fact it may be totally secret.”

“I am not in a position to handle secrecy.”

“You may agree when you know more.”

He considered. “I will undertake to maintain your privacy, but not to compromise my integrity. If I do not like what you tell me, I will decline to assist you, without advertising why.”

She knew him for an honest man. “That will do.”

“Speak.”

“I need to ship this potted plant to Earth. Her name is Venus, she's a vampire, and she belongs to Elasa.”

“That's irregular. Earth freely sends plants and animals to Jones, but is restrictive about any traveling the other direction. It's a question of potential contamination. Vampires are out.”

“Exactly. But I promised Elasa. I will need your assistance to manage it.”

“Mona, you are asking more than a favor. You are asking me to violate regulations.”

“I am,” she agreed. “It is a considerable favor. Therefore I am offering a considerable favor in return.”

He shook his head. “I am not sure I wish to continue this conversation.”

“Let me show you some of what is at stake,” Mona said earnestly. “We are not dealing with ordinary matters. We are dealing with telepathy and precognition.”

He smiled. “Telepathy, perhaps. Precognition? Paradox prevents.”

“Here is an example of projective telepathy.” She turned to the plant, tuning in as Bunky drew closer, to assist. “Venus, show him.” She focused on what she wanted the plant to do.

Venus fuzzed. Then the girl appeared, lovely and nude. She eyed Mike. “Hello, handsome.”

“This is an impressive illusion,” he said.

Mona almost lost her concentration. She saw the girl! But quickly she reasoned it out: Venus was a young plant, and had not yet learned to differentiate projections simultaneously the way the fully mature vampires did. They did not want women interfering with the fascination of the men, so sent innocuous mist to the women. That way the women did not take the threat seriously, thinking the men were merely imagining it. Until the men had already been tapped. Venus had been manifesting to Mona as a girl all along; Mona had somehow not realized that this was unusual until this moment, when the vamp was tempting a man.

Mona clamped down on her reverie. “If you encountered Venus in the wild, she would lure you into sex, and suck your blood. She is a vampire.”

He laughed. “Superstition.”

“No. Ask her.”

He gazed at the plant. “True, Venus?”

“Oh, yes,” Venus replied. “If I was hungry. I would issue my pheromones, like this, and proffer you my body, like this.” She spread her arms and legs invitingly, orienting on Mike's personal preference in women. In fact she assumed the likeness of a pretty village woman Mona recognized. That must be his girlfriend! “Come to me, my honey,” she breathed, inhaling.

“Enough!” Mike rapped, clearly shaken.

Venus fuzzed into mist.

“You have felt her power,” Mona said. “Because she is tame, it is for demonstration only. Elasa is a machine; she can not be affected. Venus belongs with her. It is essential that Venus be with her, because there will be need of her powers to prevent disaster.”

“Disaster?” Mike was recovering his equilibrium, but his skin was flushed. Now he knew that Mona had not been fooling about the plant, and might not be fooling about the need.

“I am at present unable to grasp its precise nature,” Mona said. “But the sheep have not been wrong before, and I trust them. How a vampire plant relates I don't know. But I must get Venus to earth.”

“I am not at all sure of this connection.” He was too polite to call her a liar.

“Look at the Lamb,” Mona said. “We will try to share his premonition with you.”

Mike looked. Mona and Bunky explored the premonition that should in time become precognition. At present it was merely a nebulous foreboding, ill defined. But there was no doubt about the danger. Something horrendous was looming.

“I am inclined to believe you,” Mike said. “I know the sheep are capable of remarkable things, and I appreciate that you believe there is a menace. Let's assume for the sake of discussion that I will help you. What possible return favor can you offer that could match the serious risk to my career?”

“You are having an affair with a native woman.”

“This is a private matter. Port liaisons are within protocol.”

“They are,” she agreed. “As are exchange liaisons, such as mine. I am not suggesting anything untoward. You like her very well, and she likes you. You would marry her, except that her parents are adamant against it.”

“You have done your homework,” he agreed tightly.

Mona made a thin smile. “I am a lawyer. I do do my homework. But I am not seeking to embarrass you or threaten you. I am merely setting the stage. I believe I can facilitate your marriage to her.”

“You intrigue me in more than one manner. But it is impossible. The ship departs in a week, and by the time I am able to return, more than a year hence, my girl will have been coercively married elsewhere. This is not Earth; the colonists have this power over their children. Both of us know this, and deeply regret it, but are helpless.”

“The ship will not depart in a week,” Mona said firmly. “There will be a four month delay. In that time you can get her pregnant, thus forcing the acquiescence of her family. In fact they will insist that you marry her and remove her from the planet, sparing them further embarrassment.”

“That would be unethical!”

“No more so than parents who violate their daughter's preference in marriage, because they think her prior boyfriend's prospects for promotion are better. It's a standard ploy.” She glanced down at her swelling belly. “It's how my host got her marriage to an Earth man.”

He decided not to argue that point. “In any event, it's academic. I'll be gone in a week.”

“I will make you a deal based on a wager,” Mona said evenly. “If your ship departs on schedule, you win, and you will lose your girlfriend and not take any plant to Earth. If your ship discovers itself indefinitely delayed—the officials will not know the duration will be four months—you technically lose. You will win your girlfriend and take her and the plant to Earth. The plant will count as an item of her personal baggage, so will not be technically in violation of protocol. There will be no mention of any supposed vampire aspect. Who would believe it anyway?”

Mike stared at her. “This smells of a Faustian bargain. If I win, I lose; if I lose, I win.”

“One you can afford to make, as you do not believe in precognition.”

He shook his head, bemused. “Never argue legalities with a lawyer!”

“Never,” she agreed, smiling.

“All right, dammit! I will make that wager.”

“Thank you.” She kissed him on the cheek and departed.

The time for the ship's departure came. It did not depart. It seemed there was some kind of bureaucratic turf war on Earth, with the Colony budget as hostage; until it was resolved, no ship could take off. Mona was sure that back on Earth Shep was fighting for the welfare of Colony Jones, but he did not control its budget.

She did not contact Mike. It was best that their prior dialogue remain unremarked. He would honor his end of the deal. With luck, the space authorities would never realize there was a connection between Mike's marriage and the shipment of a potted plant.

There was a more immediate matter to take her attention. Bunky was coming up on a month old, and it was time to neuter him, if it was to be done.

She took the lamb by the horns, as it were. She got together with him and Venus, to facilitate communication. “Bunky, we have a difficult decision to make. As you grow, you will mature. When you become a ram, you will be banished from this area and will have to join the rams on the island. But your lame leg makes that trip dangerous for you by yourself, if it is even possible, and I won't be here then. It could be a death sentence.”

“We would drink his blood,” the Venus maiden said. “If he got that far.”

“There is an alternative,” Mona continued grimly. “You can become a wether. That's a—a neutered male sheep. It would mean you would never mature, but you could stay here; the ewes would not banish you.”

“I want to stay with you,” Bunky said in bleats. He could formulate words now, with Venus's help.

“That's another thing. When my six months is done, I will exchange back to Earth, this time to stay, at least for six months. You could exchange with me, to your Earth host. But you would still have to be neutered, or you would have no viable host to return to.” Mona paused, choking up. “I can't make this decision for you. I want you to look ahead along your own life, and decide what is your best path.”

“I will be a wether,” he said immediately.

“But that means you will never mature. Never have sex with ewes. Never sire lambs of your own. You will remain essentially a child all your life.”

“Yes, I see it. And be with you. That is a much better life. I would not want to be imprisoned on the island anyway.”

“Are you sure? It's a major sacrifice.”

“Yes.”

“Then I will speak with Brian. He knows how to do it. It's just rubber bands on your—on the connections to your testicles. Almost painless, physically; no real discomfort. In a few weeks your testicles will shrivel and maybe drop off. And you will remain like a lamb all your life. A wether.”

“I will do it.” Bunky walked away, seeking Brian.

“I'm glad,” Venus said. “He's my friend. I will never have to suck him dry.”

“Yes, it is best,” Mona agreed. Then she went to her bed, lay down on her face, and wept.

It was done within the hour. Bunky was a little low spirited; she comforted him without looking. Otherwise he was unchanged. Next day he was fine and perky as usual.

Time passed routinely. Mona continued to commune with Bunky and Venus, learning more about telepathy and precognition. She getting what she had come for.

One day a young woman came to her house. “I am here to meet the Plant.”

“Meet the Plant?” Mona asked blankly.

“And to invite you to our wedding.”

Then it dawned. This was THE young woman. “You're marrying Mike!”

“And traveling with him to Earth,” the woman agreed. “Thanks to you and the Plant. Do I need to tell you how grateful we are?”

They hugged, carefully, both being pregnant. Mona introduced her to Venus, in the presence of Bunky, and Venus greeted her very prettily. They were compatible; Bunky verified it. She would take Venus when it was time to travel, and deliver her safely to Elasa on Earth.

One day the Ewe did not appear. Bunky was disappointed, but understood: he was being weaned. He was now able to survive on foliage and grain, and would do so hereafter. This was one instance where precognition really helped; he had seen it coming.

The time for Mona's birthing was approaching. She looked ahead with Bunky and saw that it would be all right. It was to be male, so she pondered male names and came up with a combination of Elen and Mona: Elmo. She hoped Elen would approve. Bunky indicated that she would.

Indeed, four months after Mona's arrival here, she gave birth to Elmo, a fine healthy boy who would never be gelded. Bunky, Venus, Vulture and Python bonded immediately; it seemed that this was part of the reason they were here. That made Mona wonder: what was in the future that would require the attention of this unusual group? It was as if her present comparatively placid existence was but an interlude before things became complicated. That made her nervous.

First things first. She had promised Brian, and she had little time left to deliver. Within a month of partition she was having enthusiastic vaginal sex with him, completing another aspect of their promised marriage. That would take place on Earth after they exchanged there. She was satisfied that this was the rustic alternate life she craved. On Earth Brian would study music while Mona practiced high-stakes law with her father: the other life.

The space ship took off, four months late, carrying Mike and his pregnant bride, and Venus. Mona missed the plant, but had by now bonded so thoroughly with Bunky that she could understand him well enough without Venus's help. All was well. In another month they would exchange, bring the animals along, and begin their lives on Earth.

She bid tearful farewells to Brian's family, and to Elen's family, and promised to return in six more months to pick up wherever Shep and Elen left off. She had come to love them all, and Baby Elmo.

But all along the nameless menace that the Lamb anticipated was growing. Now it loomed worse. What was so big and awful that it would require all their merged efforts just to survive, let alone handle?

On the last day, as they organized for the exchange, there was a stirring outside. It was the sheep: the Ewe and five companions. They had come to see the travelers off. That only added to Mona's concern; the sheep seldom made such demonstrations. Did it relate in some manner to the way the Ewe had bowed to her, and then to Elasa? Mona feared it did.

What was about to happen on Earth? The sheep cared ultimately only about the sheep; if they had to save mankind to save themselves, they would do it. And it seemed that Mona and Elasa were to be their agents. The sheep had incredible powers of precognition, and surely saw the looming threat more clearly than Mona and Bunky did. But what was it?

Mona ran out to join the sheep. “Please!” she cried. “I don't know what I am supposed to do! You have to give me more of a hint!”

The sheep faced her. A telepathic picture came. It seemed to be a Venus Flytrap about to swallow a planet. The planet Earth.

That had to be figurative, not literal. But it signaled the magnitude of the threat. Earth could be destroyed, and with it its colonies, such as this one.

“I appreciate the threat!” she said. “But exactly what is it? What can we do to deal with it?”

The sheep milled about uncertainly. And Mona realized with horror that they were not being obstinate. They simply did not know. They were unable to select the correct path to navigate this menace. All they could do was advise her of it. Help her set up the team she needed, including a tame flytrap of their own, to engage the big one. Something so formidable that even their precognition could not quite fathom it.

Mona realized with a sick certainty that they could no longer trust the sheep. Throughout her experience with them, they had been the stalwart last refuge. When in doubt, trust the sheep. Now that assurance was gone.

But Mona kept her deepening dread to herself, as she returned to the house. It seemed there was nothing she could do about it at present. They would have to wait for it to come. Whatever it was. For the Flytrap to close on Earth.

She held Baby Elmo, whom Elen would soon discover, and smiled with attempted reassurance at Brian. Whatever would be, would be.

Author’s Note

As a general rule I try to avoid ending books unfinished. I don't like cliffhangers. Each should be an entity in itself, even when part of a series, as this one is. But the material to be covered in the sequel, Awares, is more than can be handled here. I apologize, and hope that it turns out to be worth it for my readers.

When I wrote the prior novella, Shepherd, which turned out to my surprise to be a sequel to To Be A Woman, when Mona volunteered to be Elen's Earth host, I realized that there were loose ends. Why did the sheep facilitate Elen's exchange to Earth? What would Mona do in Elen's body? What was the larger reason the sheep did not free Vulture and Python and return to their grazing? What did the fembot Elasa have to do with this? So I organized the present novella, addressing those threads, and realized that the story was still unfinished. I do believe the next one will complete it.

For this novella, as with the prior ones, my thanks to Rudy Reyes, who proofread it. I pride myself on my own proofreading accuracy, but annoying errors, like mosquitoes, still escape my net.

Readers interested in my works may visit my website www.hipiers.com or blogspot at http://piersanthonyblog.blogspot.com. Currently I do a monthly column about anything that interests me, ranging from book reviews to my liberal rants, and maintain an ongoing survey of electronic publishers and related services for the benefit of aspiring authors who would otherwise be excluded from publication. Welcome to my world.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © XXXX by Piers Anthony

ISBN: 978-1-4976-5747-2

This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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Table of Contents

- Title Page
- Contents
- Chapter 1: Exchange
- Chapter 2: Lamb
- Chapter 3: Mission
- Chapter 4: Earth
- Chapter 5: Ogre
- Chapter 6: Vampires
- Chapter 7: Storm
- Chapter 8: Wether
- Author’s Note
- Copyright Page