The Metal Maiden Collection (18 page)

They slept embraced. The difference in their bodies no longer seemed to matter. What counted was their mission and their love.

The day came. Each passing hour made them more nervous.

The news media didn’t help. “Too bad Moncho Maverick, once a highly respected high-power lawyer, has chosen to throw away his credibility on this fantasy. He must be feeling pretty sheepish now.” “Brace yourselves; this is a ba-a-a-ad day. The everglades are going to erupt. We have this on the ultimate authority: Colony sheep.” “And that sexy exchange student, Elen with the missing L, is going for her sheepskin in math. Maybe she is calculating on something we aren’t.”

This was cruel. Shep turned it off; he could see that Elen was hurting. She had spoken so feelingly of the sheep, only to be ridiculed.

“Trust the sheep,” she said bravely.

“I do. But I fear their range may not extend to another planet.”

Elasa came over with her baby to lend moral support. “I know the media can be savagely cruel. But they can also help significantly. There was one cartoonist who truly made my case, when I thought my suit for personhood was lost. I’m glad that he has not participated in the bloodletting.”

“Thank you,” Elen said, hugging her around the baby. Shep could see that the two were now solid friends, as Elasa and Mona had been.

They tried the news again, unable to stay away lest they miss the key announcement. It remained awful, with actors dressed like sheep and subtitles. “How did the Shepherd propose to his lady love? ‘I love ewe, lambie-pie. Please let me ram my crook into your fold.’”

“The background music is
Sheep May Safely Graze
,” Elasa said.

Then there was a picture from the archives of Elasa and Mona, both standing nude, with new dialogue attached: “In real life I’m really a machine.” “That’s nothing. I’m really a pregnant ewe.”

Shep turned it off again.

Then, about mid morning, it came. “Turn on the news!” Zandra called excitedly. Shep hurried to comply.

“Scientist have discovered a new species of freshwater squid,” the newscaster said. “It is small, but is remarkable in that it is able to breathe air.” He took a breath. “It seems the skeptics are being confounded. A prophecy is coming true.”

Shep and Elen found themselves in each other’s arms. It was happening!

Moncho called. “Get over to my office,” he said. “We are in sudden demand by the Committee.” He chuckled. “They are concluding that there is more money to be made in prophecy than in hunting sheep.”

By the time they got there, meeting Elasa on the way, the second prophecy came true: a small volcanic vent opened in the Everglades. It was not impressive as such things went, except for its location, and the fact that it had been predicted by the sheep. Scientists were astonished; they had never known of this geological aspect. News-folk were ruefully apologetic. They had laughed all morning, and now had to eat their words. One was even eating a cake in the shape of a laughing sheep.

“There’s my cartoonist,” Elasa said. In the foreground was a stand-up comedian in tropical clothes beside a palm tree. “This Vulture, a Python, and a lovely nude Elf girl walk into a bar. . .” In the background was an erupting volcano, about to blast him away.

“I like your cartoonist,” Elen said, laughing.

The sheep had proven themselves, and would be saved. Shep did not care to admit how surprised and gratified he was. Officially, he had always known.

By the end of the day, not only had the Committee declared Planet Jones to be a protected refuge, banned for hunting, it had appointed Shep as administrator of that protectorate; colony governance was after all his major. He would approve or disapprove all scientific investigations. He knew he should be able to handle any legal complications, with Moncho’s advice. This also meant that he now had the rank to guarantee Elen’s continued visits to Earth, so she could remain with him and complete her math major. He knew that his new position would be a considerable challenge, but he also knew that the sheep would help him handle it.

Meanwhile Shep and Elen had become instant celebrities. But all they really cared about was the fact that the sheep had proven themselves. In the process, they had given the two of them love and an illustrious future life together.

It paid to trust the sheep.

Part 3:
Fly Trap

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.