The Collected Stories of Frank Herbert (117 page)

Thinking new thoughts, Alex studied the scattered parts. For the first time in a great many years, he prepared to change his mind. He didn't waste time about it, but loped in pursuit of the last two Alexii leaving the village. After a discussion which left clawmarks on the two, they agreed to help him, and they returned to the village. Between them, they put all the small parts back together to reassemble the shiny clattering thing. The thing was not precisely as before but close enough.

The job was easier than Alex had expected. His two helpers soon became interested in the project and quit grumbling. They babbled a lot—this piece goes in here and that one over there. And this one! Look what this one does!

Alex didn't mind. It was fun.

Some of the parts had a faint familiarity—not quite the same as things his grandspawner had shown him back in the education times, things from the old days. The parts were recognizable, though. That small glowing case was a mechanical memory; it would remember what you told it and would regurgitate information when asked properly. Although crude, the part appeared to function well enough. And that protrusion up front with things sticking out like a basket of claws, that probably was the way this thing talked over great distances … as Alexii had done before they'd lost all need for such primitive tricks.

Alex twiddled the far-speaker a little. Best that this clatterer should not talk across great distances … unless Alex wanted to talk. That would be different.

A few of the parts appeared to be crude Terran weapons. Alex disabled them just in case.

When the reassembly was completed to his satisfaction, Alex paused and stretched. He could feel his thinking processes stretch, too, and that was the best fun of all. He realized that the Terrans had really done him a great favor, although that obviously had not been their intent.

His assistants wanted to know what they were going to do with this clattering thing now that they'd put it back together. Allowing only the faintest of sneers, Alex explained matters to them and found them properly awed at his cleverness.

*   *   *

Through the squintholes, Hugh Scott watched the Alexii leaving his village. Shuddering at all the carnage he'd seen, he gave confused thanks to Heaven's Lamps that he and his two hutmates had been spared. Candide had long since stopped the collade, and now sat quietly staring at New who'd subsided into a quivering mass. There was no doubt that Candide would be staying with Hugh and New; Candide's previous hut was one of those ravaged by the monsters.

Even poor Doctor Watson had not survived this terrible day, although the Alexii had not devoured him.

There went the last of the terrible monsters running after … Hugh stiffened in fright. The last departing Alexii had caught up with two companions and, after quarreling among themselves for a time, the three returned and converged upon the wreckage of Doctor Watson. To Hugh's surprise, the three reassembled Doctor Watson! He hadn't thought Alexii could do such a thing. They were not Terrans, after all. Presently, the three took Doctor Watson away with them, following after the main herd and obviously headed for their stockade.

Once more, Hugh moved from squinthole to squinthole around his hut, looking at the remains of his village. He tried hard not to grink. In the pre-Terran times, the times he'd only heard about, things had never gone to such extremes. At the age of ten years and just entering his prime, Hugh had expected to live perhaps three times that long, but now he wasn't sure. Even though there'd been many more Alexii before the Terrans came, the monsters had only appeared in two and threes at most. The Terrans had changed all that—and perhaps, Hugh thought, not for the better.

Sighing, he turned to New and Candide, and with a few gentle caresses began to restore their spirits. When in doubt, he thought, there's nothing like a good warple.

*   *   *

Alex and his two helpers tried to hurry the shiny clatterer toward the Party. The thing was so slow! Alex didn't want to stop long enough to improve the thing; time for that later. They reached the gremp barrier after what seemed a very long time and, sure enough, the mob was milling around—no way to get inside. The spray container was empty, standing just where Alex had left it. Now, it was up to this interesting clatterer—Doctor Watson it called itself. Could it get them back to the Party?

From inside the barrier came cries of invitation but no help. The angry mob loping around outside also interfered until Alex and his companions stopped some and spread the word about what they had to do next.

*   *   *

RECORDING:
Doctor Watson here … or possibly I am
not
RECORDING
. This unit's components fit somewhat differently since the disassembly hiatus when the Alexii violated my directives. My readouts contain many nulls. What could have happened while I was disassembled? There can't possibly be a guard robot renovation center of Delfa. I would have been told. Who could possibly have reassembled me? No data available. Alexii bellow at me, calling me neither Doctor Watson nor by my FX number which is no longer available in my data bank. One Alex kicks me; this unit topples and is picked up. These Alexii are so strong. My immediate task must be to readmit the Alexii through the one-way passage to their stockade. Behavior of Alexii within my sensor range indicates they share this goal. But the gate is programmed to admit only one Alex, not a hundred or more as is the present need. Where are my programs, my directives? Surely, there must be a program for this problem. I know that this unit has programs and directives but where are they? The largest Alex approaches me, its limbs raised, and … Another hiatus. Why can't I recall appropriate data? Physical evidence and internal inputs assure me there has not been another disassembly on any major scale. But there has been interference, inappropriate as that may seem, from the Alexii. It is now apparent that I lack mobility and I am sitting half in and half out of the stockade, blocking closure of the essential gate.

One thing certain: during this most recent hiatus I have performed my gate-opening function. I wonder what else I may have done? Perhaps this is the moment to
RECORD
my observation that it was a mistake to divide the population control plan into two parts—one left in Delfan hands and the other in mine. While a guard robot, Intelligence Level … whatever it is … certainly must have its limits … my limits … I am sure I never, never would have released more than one Alexii at a time.

Where are my directives?

*   *   *

Although only a pitiful few ventured forth to hear him, Hugh Scott discharged his diurnal responsibilities as Today's Speaker. He then dithered at the door of his hut for a time. His duty, of course, was to investigate whatever might be happening at the Alexii stockade. Terran instructions left no doubt about this. For one thing, someone had to retrieve the spray cart.

Candide and New absolutely refused to help him. The streets emptied as soon as he called for volunteers.

A great wracking sigh shook Hugh. He would have to go alone, then—duty-driven into the fearsome forest.

The path to the stockade was badly trampled and, here and there, Hugh saw marks where Doctor Watson had been dragged rather than proceeding in his usual fashion. The Alexii
had
seemed in a hurry.

Arriving at the stockade, Hugh peered from the sheltering trees and was relieved to see no Alexii outside. There was a great din of Party noises from within the stockade, and Hugh had learned to associate this with a reasonable amount of security. He ventured out of the trees and found the spray cart, its tank empty. That was fortunate; he would be able to move it by himself. It was then that he noticed Doctor Watson—most of Doctor Watson but not all—wedged into a passage entering the thorny wall. Parts of Doctor Watson, including his wheels, lay scattered on the ground outside the stockade.

Hugh approached Doctor Watson, disregarding the way the fearsome smell of Alexii increased, and peered past Doctor Watson into the passage. He gasped. The opening went right through the stockade. Hugh could see many Alexii milling about in there. He moved back lest they see him, but puzzlement prevented flight.

“Doctor Watson, how can this be?”

“
RECORDING:
Since it is, how can it not be? Sprrrt … brrrrrrrrt. Note that I am not
RECORDING.
Nonetheless, I have provided a valid answer.” Doctor Watson produced a feeble clatter. “It's young Hugh Scott is it not? Today's Speaker? What horg, Hugh?”

“I have come for the cart … my duty.” He gestured at the opening. “But
this
—I don't understand. Didn't the Terran…”

“The Terrans are not here. This unit deduces that you also should not be here and as speedily as possible.”

Hugh hesitated. The question was whether to take the cart. If he didn't, someone would have to return for it and, with that opening through the stockade, whoever returned would be taking a terrible risk. But there was also the inescapable fact that, given a permanent hole through the stockade, the cart represented a dubious function. Hugh decided to take Doctor Watson's advice and left with all due speed, leaving the cart. There was duty and there was duty, but Hugh recalled very well that the spray cart squeaked in a manner sure to attract the Alexii.

*   *   *

Inflicting as few clawmarks as possible on his two helpers, Alex convinced them to join him at the center of the stockade. The rest of the returning group rushed to the sides to sample the juicy new tendrils of the Party vines. Alex thought how foolish that was. All of them were full of Hoojies—stuffed. Not a one of them could be hungry. And the Party vines—well, they had to be a Terran trick.

Alex explained all of this to his two grumpy companions. He noted that they still suffered from defective memories but one of them remembered fighting Terrans. Alex explained how eating the sprayed gremp made one forget. In a way, the Party vine produced forgetfulness, too.

“It's time to stop forgetting,” Alex said.

They agreed with him but both of them were edging toward the stockade's sides. Alex dragged them back by their rear fighting limbs to emphasize his displeasure. From him they accepted this indignity. Dominance had been established.

Alex puzzled over the problems confronting him. The problem about Doctor Watson and the Terrans was that they had to be from some other place. Alex didn't know much about Terrans except for the fighting. They came and went in big shiny flying towers. None of them had made an appearance for quite a while but that didn't prove anything. Terrans could return anytime. There was a better side to the problems, though: Terrans obviously couldn't know very much about Alexii. Except for the fighting. And Terrans had never seen Alexii fight in the old ways with their own weapons.

The elders will have to go get some of the samples and build us our own weapons,
Alex decided.

He glanced across the stockade.
If they'll only forget the Party long enough!

The immediate problem was the Party itself. It would have to be just a part-time Party and not all of the Alexii enjoying it at any one time. Alexii no longer could forget that there was someplace other than the Party. Alex squinched his lower eyes. It was going to be painful convincing them but it had to be done.

With the help of his two assistants, Alex removed a piece from Doctor Watson, examined the piece to confirm his understanding of it. He then used the piece to burn some tendrils off the Party vines, threatening to burn the whole lot if the others refused to stand still and listen to him. He had to burn off some Alexii claws and even a few limbs before they all agreed that Alex could say when the Party began and ended each day and who could attend.

There followed a great deal of discussion accompanied by numerous random clawmarks before they produced a plan of action against the Terrans. When it became obvious that this new activity promised a great deal more fighting, it became easier and easier to gain agreement.

First, they all agreed on what they had to do to (and with) Doctor Watson. That was the most interesting part because it insured that there'd be a lot of marvelous fighting. Next, they agreed reluctantly that they could not wipe out the nearest Hoojie town. Most remembered now that there'd once been (and probably still were) a lot more Hoojie towns. If they ate up all of the nearest one, Alexii would always have a long haul for a Hoojie dinner.

The longer the Alexii stayed away from the Party vines the easier Alex found it to keep most of them agreeing with him.

*   *   *

RECORDING AND TRANSMITTING:
Doctor Watson here. Message to relief ship or to the guard ship, if any, around this planet. All aspects of the Population Plan are working admirably. But this unit needs repairs soon and several components are in short supply.
ZZZZRP … KALIPZZZZRP … ZZZRP
.

That was not the message this unit intended to
TRANSMIT
.
On the contrary, all ships stay away from this planet. I must try again.

RECORDING AND … ZZZRP
 … my
TRANSMIT
function is no longer under my control. Doctor Watson here. I hope someone human will find and read this
RECORDING
, if I am
RECORDING
. But no—I must not hope for that. For a Human to find any part of me a ship would have to land here. What this unit wanted to transmit was:

ALL SHIPS STAY AWAY FROM THIS PLANET
!
THE ALEXII WILL TRAP YOU
! When I try to transmit this message nothing happens. I cannot warn the ship(s) to stay away. Several indicators tell me my transmitter is now transmitting but I can only infer what it is transmitting, employing deductive reasoning based on the behavior of those Alexii within range of my remaining sensors. Ahhh, the Alexii have left my fear program intact and my fear program fears for the safety of my Humans.