The Secret of Spring (19 page)

The
Txnghc's
head poked through the hatch door and was followed swiftly by the long body. He plopped face first to the floor below and lay there, very still, looking very dead. Spring screamed.

18

Ant We Got Fun

Herb listened to
Spring's
scream, wanting to join her but knowing it would hardly be the manly thing to do.
Plantly
, either. Cling Ling wasn't falling apart. He was putting his vine against the alien's midsection. Was he listening for a heartbeat or pulse? Did a
Txnghc
have either? Cling Ling withdrew his tendrils and stood vegetating in silence.

The voice boomed again. "Passengers will vacate this ship at once." This time there was heavy emphasis on the "will" and "at once." Whoever it
was,
was short of patience.

"I think we should obey for the present," Cling Ling said, mounting the ladder.

Spring looked around anxiously to Herb, who offered her his arm and guided her up and out onto the outer hull. He was climbing out behind her when a small voice called from inside the cockpit.

"Hey. Wait for me."

"Is that a child?" Spring said in astonishment. "The other passenger!"

"I'll get him," Herb said, backing down into the ship again. He emerged a moment later holding a small boy of perhaps six years, and lowered him down to Cling Ling. Then Herb slid down to join the others.

"Halt,"
came
the command. It was the same voice they'd heard earlier. It came from a huge red creature at the back of their ship. It looked like a giant ant. The ant stood upright; it wore a helmet and carried a pipe-like weapon slung about its upper section. It stood wiggling its antennae and moving its mandibles.

Herb gave an involuntary shudder. There were no harmful insects on P#23 but he knew something of the species. Most of them ate plants. Of course, so did Herb, but he
doubted
creatures of that size worried about a little thing like sapience and
nonsapience
. He also noted that Cling Ling appeared nervous for the first time. That was not comforting.

Spring had taken charge of the child and held him by the hand as she advanced on the big bug with a bravery born of the maternal instinct.

"Just what is the meaning of this outrage?" she exploded. "What have you done to our pilot? How dare you terrorize women and
children.
"

The ant was momentarily cowed by her verbal bombardment, but quickly recovered. "We know nothing of your pilot. As for terrorist action, it is you who have invaded our territory," he counter attacked.

Snapping out orders to the others of his kind in his own chirping language, they came forward to escort them from the ship across the soft, shifting red dirt. It was a strange landscape, with the same reddish covering as far as they could see.

"What is this place? Where are you taking us?" Herb demanded despite his fear.

"To the Commander. It is he who shall decide your fate, Invaders," the head ant answered.

"We aren't invaders,"
Spring
protested. "Let us go and we will gladly depart this planet."

"Quiet, spy!" barked the ant, clicking his mandibles loudly. "March."

They marched. Eventually, they came to a small opening in the dirt and were pushed through the entrance down long, winding tunnels to a small cell of a room.

It was dark and cool like a cave. The only light came through a ceiling opening where thin rays of sun beamed through. They were alone except for one guard at the doorway. The other had left, to report to this Commander, no doubt. Army ants. Where in the universe were they?

"Intolerable," the young boy said. "It will not bode well for them when word of this reaches the High Council, you can bank on that, my friends."

They all stared at him.

"Oh. Allow me to introduce myself. I am High Commissioner Pat
Tikakes
of the planet Tetrahedron, at your service." He clicked his little heels together and kissed the hand that had been holding his for so long.

"Patty Cakes?" Herb asked, astonished at the small child's manner.

The smile faded from his little face. "That's Pat
Tikakes
. And may I inquire of the rest of you?"

"Oh. Uh, we are your fellow passengers, on our way to
Kamalot
on a mission of mercy,"
Spring
said, coming out of her trance. "Do you mean to imply by what you said earlier, that you know where we are?" she asked.

"I do so imply, for I know only too well. This is
Formicidae
, a primitive planet under military law. The whole planet is one giant anthill. They are presently engaged in warfare with the Cracks, another species of mutant ants inhabiting this dreary world. They have been in conflict for eons over racial superiority. The Cracks are more Beetle than Ant, and the Army ants more so than Beetle. Both have a slight touch of
Arachnoid
-notice the mouth?-but both tend to ignore that. They have obviously mistaken us for spies of their enemy."

"But we don't look anything like ants," Herb said.

"Ah, but they'd be expecting that, wouldn't they? In any case, I hope to dissuade them from this regrettable misapprehension."

"You know a lot for such a young man,"
Spring
remarked, smiling.

"I am a duly appointed diplomat," he sniffed. "I am returning home from an important mission. It would be unfortunate if I did not know my job, young lady."

"Children can be diplomats?" Herb exclaimed in disbelief.

"Naturally not. I was a grown man then," he returned impatiently. "No doubt you are from one of those backward planets where time moves forward. Try to comprehend. We of Tetrahedron live our physical lives in the opposite direction from most of the universe. It does make travel difficult, but such is the price of an advanced culture."

Cling Ling took a sudden interest in the conversation. "Are you saying you possess the body of an adult when a child, and vice versa?" he asked.

"As you put it, yes. It is quite a bit more complicated than that, however. I am now in the advanced period. I reached puberty yesterday. I am on my way home to my parents to experience birth, so you can see it is imperative that I return at once."

"Ah," Cling Ling said. He had much to ponder.

"Do you mean you were a teenager yesterday and now you are a child? Isn't your life span exceedingly short?" Herb asked tactlessly.

"Quite long enough," snapped the boy indignantly. "I have completed a lifetime of achievement in this cycle. In previous ones I have been a warrior, a politician, and wealthy businessman. I expect to experience many more cycles if I do not miss my birthday."

"Why, that's instant reincarnation,"
Spring
said in amazement. "But what about your families? Do any of them still live? Doesn't it cause confusion?"

"That is a personal question, but I will answer it in the interest of coexistence. The birth party returns in differing bodies from his former cycles. Such members would not recognize him. There is an emotional death as well. No attachment remains. It would be an impossible situation to cope with
were that
not so."

"Yes, I see that it would be. Still, it seems sad,"
Spring
said, thinking of her father. "There is pain in losing a loved one, but so many precious memories as well." Memories were all that sustained her at times,
Spring
thought. She would never want to forget her father.

"Our society is so interwoven that any missing piece could cause untold chaos. It
is almost time for my birth and I must be there. If not, events leading to that birth would be altered, causing unknown repercussions. Perhaps even the end of civilization."

He considered himself pretty important, Herb thought. "Surely," he said, "there have been other times, accidents, unforeseen circumstances that prevented births."

The diplomat glared at him. "Never. We live our lives reversed so what happens had already occurred. We know how it is to be. We have-" he paused, groping for the right word.

"Hindsight?" suggested
Spring
.

"Just so. Ordinarily, I would never have left my planet during such a critical period of the cycle, but I am a diplomat and the mission was essential. It was all proceeding on schedule until the pilot
timewarped
and went into-"

He was interrupted by the arrival of the helmeted guard. "The Commander will speak with you now, Spies. Choose your spokesman."

"We aren't an army. We aren't spying. We aren't even ants," protested Herb.

"Never mind. I will handle this," said the diplomat, toddling across the floor. He seemed to have grown a bit younger during their confinement.

The guard looked down dubiously at the small figure,
then
shrugged. The ways of aliens were unfathomable. He gestured for the child to precede him, but the diplomat held up his little arms and asked to be carried. As it was the most expedient means of transport, the guard complied, hurrying away with the little child in his first set of arms.

"It's all grown wild," moaned Herb. "Lily is freezing to death and we are trapped in some alien ant farm."

Spring put her hand on his shoulder to comfort him. He always felt more than comfort when she touched him, but he appreciated the gesture. He placed his hand over hers and would have left it there, but she stiffened and removed hers. Herb could not fail to note the reaction. Of course she had only meant to give him sympathy; he was a fool to think she felt anything more.

For that matter, what did he feel about her? He didn't even want to think about it, since he had no right. What must she think of him now? He was a pledged man and she respected that kind of commitment. Lily was the hapless victim of his long-distance flirting. He had deceived both women, and they were being remarkably decent about it. The least he could do was behave
himself
. He touched the place on his shoulder that she had touched. It was still warm.

"I recall this planet from Vision Plays," Cling Ling said. "It is not that far from our destination. If we could return to the ship now-"

"What good would that do?" Herb asked despondently. "We can't fly it. The pilot is dead."

"I wonder," said Cling Ling, stroking his stiff leaves like whiskers.

The other two gave him looks of surprise.

"But we saw him. He fell down lifeless,"
Spring
said.

"If you recall the words of our young diplomat just before he was interrupted, he mentioned that the
Txnghc
timewarped
. I think he did it to allow all of us to reach our destinations on time. In doing so, he unavoidably moved the diplomat's cycle ahead, but he still should have sufficient time to make the birth."

"He moved ahead? But shouldn't he have gone back instead?" asked Herb.

"I expect he would have, once he had gotten closer to the planet. That way, he could skip this part of the flight by moving ahead of it; that is, it would have already taken place. Then before landing, he could move back and arrive before the birth. At least, that is my theory," explained Cling Ling.

"I see. I think," Herb said.

"Then what went wrong?" Spring asked.

"I believe for some reason, the pilot did not take his own problem into account. Thus, this unexpected detour."

Herb frowned. "What problem?"

"The pilot had a transformation of his own pending. Probably he had no way of knowing it would be that soon, for like us, he does not live backward and cannot read the future."

"So he changed, too. He's not dead, just in metamorphosis, like a caterpillar,"
Spring
said excitedly.

"If my suspicion is correct, yes. Theoretically, we could remain here for a year, yet go back in time and still arrive to connect with the landing of the Freezer," Cling Ling said.

"Do you think that's possible?" Herb asked doubtfully. "What about in between? Wouldn't other events cancel out our attempt?"

"It depends on the events, but we should be able to override. Naturally, the sooner we get on our way, the better," he agreed.

"Then we do have a chance," breathed Herb. "We have to go. Attack them. Escape." He started for the door.

"Herb, slow down,"
Spring
said restraining him. "There's a whole army out there. I haven't wanted to mention this, but you may have noticed that they are insects and they could, well, hurt you badly," she finished lamely.

"Eat us, you mean," retorted Herb. He certainly had noticed, and had no desire to be masticated to death by some overgrown ant.

"Not just you and Cling,"
Spring
said. "Some insects like ants are scavengers. They wouldn't turn up their noses at a little protein either." She pinched her arm.

"She's right, Herb," Cling Ling said. "Besides, we can't leave without the diplomat. And who knows? Perhaps they will listen to him. This sort of thing is his forte after all."

"Sure, Herb. He's a diplomat. They know all about wars and incidents and stuff like that. They'll listen to him, I'm certain of it,"
Spring
said, attempting to bolster Herb's spirits and keep him from doing something foolish they might all regret.