Lost Past (24 page)

             
He should learn more about the
Plict
, and it would ease his conscience if he did it by
helping them. Cleaning was pointless, since there was a small machine that cleaned. The Buds didn’t eat, so he couldn’t help them with meals. They seemed to be doing something with computers, but he didn’t know what. He had Arthur send him web pages listing services for Buds. He found one he thought he could do: massages. After studying it thoroughly, he decided he could do some of the simpler massages.

             
He waited until
Ghorxal
Bud
finished a session with the computer and offered his services.
Ghorxal
Bud
was skeptical at first, but John said he was used to working and wanted to serve. He brought a slate with a pen for
Ghorxal
Bud
to use during the massage, since it was difficult for the
Plict
to use sign language while lying on the table. It allowed John to be guided into doing what was pleasing. “More to the left,” and “a little harder here,” didn’t add to John’s knowledge of
Plict
psychology, but it made the massage more pleasant for the recipient.

             
That’s what I’m trying to do, thought John. No, he realized that wasn’t what he was trying to do. There was a psychiatric patient he could help: himself. “Physician, heal
thyself
,” was a saying that went through his mind. Two other phrases suggested what he could do to help himself. The first was “Familiarity breeds contempt,” and the second was “No man is a hero to his valet.”

             
John realized he had to stop worshiping the
Plict
before he could escape. His attitude toward the
Plict
made him useless in helping Arthur escape, worse than useless, because he might sabotage an escape. How could he rescue Cara if he didn’t escape? Why was Cara so important to him? Without his memory, he just met her. But the daydream of rescuing her was very pleasing.

             
He had a goal, although his mind rebelled against it: he must cure himself of his genetic predisposition to worship the
Plict
. It wasn’t as if people didn’t overcome genetic programming. It was one of the things that made them human. There were people who were chaste, out of religious beliefs, in spite of the genetic program to have sex and multiply. Although obesity was common, the desire to eat as much as possible when food was plentiful was partially overcome by most people and completely overcome by many. He could lick this.

             
His massages became in demand and he did as many of them as his own body could take. He rested for ten minutes between the fifteen-minute massages, but that allowed him to talk. Often, other
Plict
watched what he was doing, talking while they watched.

             
“What have U learned,” Arthur wrote a few days later.

             
John reached for the board and erased it and wrote, “They know what I know.” He continued by speaking. “They’re working on computer software to read sign language. The problem isn’t in the reading the sign language, because that’s much easier than what the mouthed
Plict
use. It’s that the sign language isn’t very standardized.”

             
“Officially, they only have about six hundred words,” Arthur said.

             
John explained the problem to Arthur. The six hundred words were taught to mouthed
Plicts
, insuring Buds knew it, but more words were needed, even if not officially sanctioned. The Buds did most menial tasks in society, but every task has its vocabulary. The trash collector needs a word for recycle, and the miner needs to know about methane and black damp. The words were allowed, but not standardized. The computer program was sold to Buds who helped standardize the language. The money supported this operation, which was built inside
a depleted
silver mine. The island was turned into a wildlife sanctuary, because there was an endangered species of bird that lived there. They
took trips to meet with Buds in all sorts of occupations to find what signs they used. Some was done over the Internet, but a few Buds would only meet in private.

             
“The animal in the sanctuary is not exactly a bird,” Arthur said. He turned to the computer and pulled up some video of a magnificent flying animal with a four-foot wingspan. “I already knew about the wildlife sanctuary part.” Arthur picked up the slate and wrote under cover, “Linda knows where we are.”

             
“U R communicating?” John wrote.

             
“I can only send tweets,” Arthur wrote.

             
John learned many of the reasons for the Buds’ complaints. He asked them to tell him why they were acting as they did, and they told him. They were taxed the same as mouthed
Plict
, but didn’t receive many of the benefits. There was a massive program of free education, but it was only available to mouthed
Plict
. Buds could pay for education, but it was taxed and not subsidized at all.
Buds couldn’t vote, and it wasn’
t illegal to discriminate against them.

             
When Buds used computers, they were required to input by writing, which was relatively slow. Keyboards were illegal, and the computers were programmed only to read a cumbersome form of printing. There was
a shorthand
, which was used for communication, but it was forbidden to program computers to accept the shorthand.

             
When he wasn’t giving massag
es, John researched
the layout of the underground facility. John asked one of the Buds if there was a stairway he could use for exercise. He was given permission to use the stairway, which was two flights, but told not to leave it except for at the top level. He ran up and down the stairway twice a day until they were used to seeing him on the stairs. When he met a Bud on the stairs, he asked him if he wanted a massage. One Bud assented and led him to his room on the middle floor, where there were rooms for about twenty-five Buds. There were also work areas and meeting rooms. Some of them came and went, selling their software in secret to other Buds.

             
John
and Arthur
studied everything on the Internet on
Aipot
, finding more information about the inhabitants. It appeared to be a one-industry town, with a lab doing some kind of research into job safety. The lab patented a commercially successful safety device for fishing boats and software that turned household robots into firefighters.

             
Housing prices in
Aipot
were ridiculously high. The only “help wanted” jobs advertised were for jobs that wouldn’t pay enough for someone to live there. There were no commercial flights into the city and landing fees were high. A few years back there was a news article about
Aipot
, which Arthur sent John
. The gist of the article was that you had to be crazy to move there.

             
While John was
reading more about
this, Arthur chuckled and said, “We’re telling the Buds about
Aipot
.”

             
John frowned and pointed to the tablet. Arthur waved it aside and said, “There are no Buds in
Aipot
.”

             
“What makes you say that?” signed
Ghorxal
Bud
XIV. “The records show an unusually small number, but you are claiming none. That seems unlikely.”

             
Arthur explained. “Buds comprise about seventy percent of the
Plict
population, but
Aipot
claims to have about five percent Buds.”

             
“That’s quite low, but there are no dangerous or demeaning jobs there,”
Ghorxal
Bud
XIV signed.

             
“There are always demeaning jobs. But look at the age of the Buds.” The average age of Buds listed was forty. Buds rarely lived past forty
-two
, and
usually
couldn’t work if they did.

             
“Look in the directory for Buds,” Arthur said. One Bud listed was
Ghorxal
Bud
XIV.

             
“But I feigned my death! We staged a very realistic crash. We even had a few bodies discovered. Of course, our people did the autopsies and overlooked the fact that the bodies had been dead for weeks. We freed twenty-three Buds that way.”

             
“Contact your progenitor,” suggested John.

             
They arranged an untraceable email and scanned in
Ghorxal
Bud
XIV’s handwritten message, which John dictated.

             
“
Ghorxal
-parent, I hope the payments are coming in properly. I haven’t been in touch lately and hope you are well.” His signature was simply XIV.

             
John recently learned progenitors sent Buds out to work, usually receiving a quarter of their income. The Buds resented this and were constantly complaining about it. They told him stories about how payment was demanded even if the Bud became sick.

             
A few hours later, the brief email response was: “Payments are great. I hope you enjoy your job. I’m surprised you were able to get such a well-paying job in a grocery store. I’m going to be budding number XXIII in a few days.”

             
“I’ve never worked in a grocery store,”
Ghorxal
Bud
XIV signed.

             
None of the remaining twenty-two Buds were listed as living in
Aipot
, but John could see
Ghorxal
Bud
XIV was stunned. He exchanged a brief glance with Arthur,
who
wryly said, “He thought he ran the only conspiracy.”

             
Co-conspirators were notified and they discovered eight Buds that were probably deceased who were “living” in
Aipot
. Only one was in the rebel group, but the others were Buds who were lost in accidents and “found.”

             
Later, when Arthur and John were alone, John said, “I’m surprised there aren’t more Buds.”
             
“I was too, when I first found out about it. Apparently, you can’t bud without a permit, and permits are sold. Typically permits go for about two years’ income for an average Bud.”

             
“Are they worried about unemployment?” John asked Arthur.

             
“No, because this society has developed a number of jobs that are rather dangerous. They pay well, but there is no real incentive to put in safety features we take for granted. It is assumed that Buds have the same personality as their progenitors, but they really don’t. The first few months, they are very loyal and risk takers. That probably is related to how they evolved.”

             
“How did they evolve?”

             
“It’s lost in time, of course,” said Arthur, “but the most accepted theory is that they evolved here.” He pointed to a spot on a map of the world he brought up on his computer. “They theorize there was an antelope where the males fought extensively over the females. The females came from miles away to the location where the males staked out small territories. The losing males were often sufficiently wounded so they were easy prey for the
Plict
, who were not very good at hunting land animals. Each tribe of
Plict
wanted to kill as many of these as possible to survive the winter. The antelope’s breeding season lasted just a few days. Anyone who could come in with an expendable army to keep other
Plict
out was guaranteed survival.”

             
“And the Buds didn’t have to live long,” John suggested.
             

             
“Right. A short-lived, fanatically l
oyal fighter, who knew he wouldn’
t live long, was key to survival. In addition, the
Plict
had a summer to get fat. The first Bud was probably reproduction gone wrong. It’s a very similar process.”

             
The Buds were curious
about
Aipot
, and agreed to investigate the region of Earthlike plants when they visited.

             
Ghorxal
Bud
XIV returned, rather shaken, and described his trip. “
Mackeli
Bud
III and I came in a small boat, pretending to have engine trouble. After landing, I went to a store, shopping for feeding and dialysis supplies that all Buds need. The store claimed to be out of them, and sent us to another store. When we got there, the shelves were being stocked and
there were fresh labels on the shelves
. There were some other things in a basket that probably were on the shelf before.”