Rissa and Tregare (11 page)

"And we've covered al the smal stuff," said Liesel. "Now, then-has Bran told you his plans yet?"

"Some of them. Has he told you?"

"Not enough for my liking, but I won't ask
you
for them."

Rissa laughed. "Good-then I wil not have to refuse you
or
risk breaking confidence." After a moment she said, "And while we were gone, how has it been with-with all of you here?"

"Us?" Liesel grinned. "Same as always, except that in a few days Hawkman's leaving-be gone a month-for Big Ice-cube's moon."

"The sixth planet, yes. But on what ship? At the port I saw none but
Lefthand Thread,
and-'

Liesel nodded. "And that's Bran's. I guessed it was. Well, Number One has a ship of its own-only colony I know of, UET
or
Hidden, ever to build one. Just short haul, for in-system work, but it makes a difference in what we can man-age. And the last I counted,
we
own better than a third of it."

"I see. But why does Hawkman go?"

"A ship's out there-Norden's
Valkyrie-
loading towing-pods with frozen methane and ammonia."

"To speed organic development on a marginal planet?"

"Right! But
after
delivering that load,
Valkyrie's
headed for a drop point. So Hawkman's taking our latest messages and moneys-yours, as wel-for forwarding to Earth."

"That is good news-though we shall all miss Hawkman. And what else occurs?"

Liesel grinned. "You won't ask straight out, will you? All right-Sparline pretends to think I don't know what she's after with young Ernol. She got her nerve up to move him into her room openly, and she's been waiting to see what I'd do."

"What
will
you do?"

"Nothing, of course. His work was improving, and still is."

"Then what is your attitude-your intentions?"

"Sit back, make no decisions until I have to. How I feel-oh, no! You're too involved; you couldn't keep it from Spar-line, and that'd spoil the game."

"Such games are not mine. Enemies are too plentiful to waste the joys of friendship in deceptions and stratagems."

"I like to keep in practice-and keep Sparline on her toes, too."

"As you like. For me, I do not think I need practice."

"Just so you don't find out the hard way, that you're wrong." Liesel shrugged. "Now, then-how is it with you and Bran?"

"As couples will, we have differences. Now that he has agreed that I go with him, I think we will solve them. If you mean, am I glad in the marriage, the answer is yes. For no political reason, but from coming to know the man better."

"I'm relieved-do you know why? Neither of you could stay with a weak person. But I was afraid you couldn't put up with each other's strengths. Does that make sense?"

Rissa thought. "Yes-very much. It gives me an insight I had lacked."

"That's good. I-" The intercom's buzz interrupted. "Yes?"

"Bran here. You done pouring figures in my wife's ear with a funnel?"

"Sure. Matter of fact, we've been swapping stories on
you.
How you can face either of us after this-"

"Bran! She-"

He laughed. "I know. Look-Rissa, could you come up here?"

"Of course." Liesel waved her away; as she left, they were stil talking.

As she entered the room upstairs, Tregare was saying, "Yes you would, at that!" He cut the circuit and turned to Rissa. "Sometimes the Hulzein genes scare me."

"Then you must half-frighten yourself. Now-what is it?"

"Not urgent-but we have to arrange the zoom-womb thing, and we might as well do it early. So-when's a good time, and how many do we want to set up?"

"My time is not planned. And how many do
you
want?'

They decided on three, seniority to be by order of deposit. Tregare turned to make an investigative cal, but the intercom sounded again. "Bran Tregare here."

Sparline answered. She wanted to see both of them but since Tregare had calls to make, settled for inviting Rissa to her room. When Rissa arrived there, she entered to hear Bran's voice ending the talk. It was certainly her day, she thought, for being on both ends of the same conversations.

Sparline rose to greet her. "You're looking fine. How's married life in the wilds?" She sat again, and Rissa also.

"I am-happy, with Bran. I believe that tells all of it."

Sparline looked at her more closely and smiled. "I think you're right. Wel, I'm glad. But what about when he leaves?" Rissa explained-not Tregare's plans, but the compromise they had reached. "So I can go with him and provide him heirs, also. That is one cal he is making-to arrange it."

"Three times
you'll be cut open for those ova?"

"Cut open?"

"Rissa-
I ' v e seen
the scar they gave you in Welfare."

"Oh-I forgot I had not told you," and she explained.

Sparline showed relief. "But even with this reversible, it's no picnic, what I've heard. Wel, they can tel you more at the Hatchery."

"Hatchery?"

"Delayed Reproduction Center-Hatchery's what we cal it."

"Yes. Wel, in any case," said Rissa, "the method must be less strenuous than normal gestation culminating in childbirth. Though if circumstances permitted, I would expect to do it that way. So I will not allow you to frighten me." But she smiled to show the rebuke was only jest.

"Point taken," said Sparline. "Well, you seem to have things in hand. Have you talked with Liesel about your new holdings?" 

Rissa nodded. "She reminds me of Erika-and holding a greater proportion of wealth here than any group could hold on Earth, she is perhaps even more effective."

"Don't sell Erika's gang short-they may own South America by now."

"It would not surprise me. And now, Sparline-have things gone wel with you, also?"

"Well enough. Rissa-did Liesel say anything about-?"

"You and Ernol?" Sparline nodded. "No, not really. And since she did not, I am free to air my guesses. Though they
are
only guesses, and I would not bet on outguessing Liesel."

"Well?" Sparline's hands clenched together.

"She loads Ernol with responsibility-it is her method of forcing growth, and I think she is pleased with the results."
No-I need
not say that Liesel considers it a game.
"When Ernol achieves some particular degree of status-you can guess better than I what it might be-I feel Liesel will agree to the marriage. Though not without making a show of resis-tance." Sparline laughed. "Oh, she'll make me fight for it-she always has; that's all right." Now her hands freed themselves of each other, flexed and relaxed. "Thanks, Rissa. I
thought
that was the story, but I'm too involved-too
wanting-
to trust my own judgment."

"And, as I said, you must not rely too heavily on mine."

"Don't worry-I won't push until the signs are right-when she gets impatient for the fun and starts to nudge. I'll know..."

Rissa stared. "
You
enjoy it, also! I am lucky to be a Hulzein only by marriage." Then; "No-I did not mean-"

"It's all right-I know what you meant. By most folks' standards, I suppose we
are
strange. But that works both ways. Rissa-the mere idea of being
you-it
scares me spit-less!"

Which of them laughed first? Rissa was not certain. They stood and clung together for a moment; then Rissa left the room and returned to her own.

Tregare greeted her. "I got hold of the DRC-Delayed Reproduction Center-all right. But you know what? We can't do it all at once-at least
you
can't-you can leave one ovum every fertile period, and-" 

"I know. Well, the question of seniority is settled."

"Sure." Then Tregare shook his head. "But at that rate, how in the name of peace did UET ever raise a cargo of sperm and ova?" She thought. "When did UET ever care what it did to its slaves? The available techniques-remove the ovaries, keep them alive
in
vitro
and hasten the ovulation cycle by chemical means. It has been done with pigs and cattle-and to UET, people are no different."

"Well-maybe they took out only one per person." Then he shook his head. "No. It would cost more, that way. So-"

"For the time being, Bran, forget UET. Until you are ready to move on Stronghold." five met at dinner. Hawkman had returned. He had trimmed his beard quite short, outlining clearly the shape of jaw and cheekbones; Rissa complimented him on the effect. "I am pleased to have a better look at you, at last."

"That's your disadvantage, Rissa-you women can't grow anything to hide behind. Of course, in the case of present com-pany-" He raised his glass, "-that's a blessing to us men. Right, Bran?" Laughter was general; then the talk took other paths. Later, for the first time since the duel, Rissa partook of drugsticks. Relaxed, in a lul between past conflicts and those to come, she let the smoke enhance her senses, let her mind float in introverted euphoria, enjoyed the total freedom from tension. When Hawkman brought out cards, Bran would have stayed-but Rissa pinched his arm lightly and he said, "No-it's been one long day. Tomorrow night, maybe."

Upstairs in their bed, her senses tuned to peak, she climaxed almost at once-then soon again, and then-she lost count and did not care.

for three days, waiting for her body's clock to signal release of an ovum, Rissa marked time. She kept busy. By viewscreen she completed purchase of Fennerabilis' peninsula, and con-tracted to outfit and crew a patrol boat to guard her interests there. She inspected her warehouse complex; changes were progressing wel, and she found another to make and ordered it. One afternoon when Ernol was free, he and Rissa practiced combat again-each wore a minimum of protective clothing and for the most part Rissa taught him newer techniques. Sparline watched; afterward she consented to practice with Rissa, but the moves were only demonstrated, not carried through with ful force. Compared to Rissa or Ernol, she tired quickly-yet it was obvious to Rissa that with regular practice Sparline could have been expert.

Rissa's thermometer, on the fourth morning of waiting, told her she was near to ovulation. And the viewscreen told Tregare that Limmer was ready to move ship to Base Two.

in their room they breakfasted quickly, and called word of their day's plans to Liesel's office recorder. Dismantling the hair dryer, Rissa put the magnetic reverser in her shoulder bag. Bran drove the aircar and left Rissa off at the DRC-the Hatchery-before going to the port.

"Cal me when you're done here?" She nodded; he closed the aircar and took off again. The Delayed Reproduction Center occupied an old building -concrete and stone with exposed wood beams. Entering, Rissa saw

"Director" on a door at the main corridor's far end. She passed other doors; some stood ajar and showed her empty rooms. The "Director" door opened into a smalish room; behind a desk sat a young woman, reading from a microfilm projector. She looked up and said, "May I help you?"

"I hope so. My husband and I wish to leave cells on deposit for three zygotes, to be gestated at a later time." The girl brushed fingers back through curly brown hair; her blue eyes opened wider. "That's unusual, these days-but we do have the equipment and a skeleton staff. I'd better let you talk to Dr. Marco." She rose and led Rissa into the next room, through a door behind her desk. This one was larger-its wals lined with books, file cabi-nets, a mirror, and equipment unfamiliar to Rissa. Behind the central desk Rissa saw an old woman-smal and thin, with faded brown eyes in a yelow face. But the white hair, cut very short, was stil thick. Filipina, Rissa guessed-or from some-where near those islands.

The woman said, "I'm Estele Marco-Dr. Marco, more or less. You have business for us?"

"I am Tari Obrigo. My husband, Bran Tregare, arranged for me to come here. Our request is-"

"Yes, I recal-I'm the one who talked with him. Wel, we can accommodate you. I'l do the work myself; I've instructed a couple of my assistants but I'm the only one that's actually done it, on humans."

The old face grimaced. "Back on Earth, that was-in the early days of the project, before UET got impatient and switched to butchery to speed things up. Best luck I ever had was when mutiny took the ship I was on and we escaped to here."

"Butchery?" Rissa repeated the guess she'd made to Tregare.

Estele Marco shook her head. "No. Oh, they tried that, but the equipment cost too much in quantity. So they spayed only a few before some bright sadist got an idea UET liked even better. They
could
speed up the cycle, you see-so why bother with the fancy machinery?"

"But what-I can't imagine-"

"If you had their kind of mind, you could. Al those Wel-fare women, you see-wasting their ova into tied-off tubes. So this doctor-so called-cut them open again a litle higher on the belly, and brought the tubes outside to empty into little containers he taped on.
Then
he used hormones to speed the cycle about ten to one-until the supply ran out and they quit producing." The woman's face moved as though to spit.

"Dr. Marco-what did it do to them?"

"You can increase production of ripe ova, but you can't turn the uterus on and off like a faucet. They went into con-stant menstruation-terribly heavy flow, from the cockeyed hormone balance. A number of them simply bled to death." Rissa gasped. Dr. Marco said, "But he had a simple answer to that one-hysterectomies-so they wouldn't die of it. Not right away, at least. The incidence of cancer was frightful. The worst of it, though-you've never seen what it does to a girl to be accelerated through menopause before she's twenty."

Rissa could not control her shudder; sidelong in the wall mirror she saw she had gone pale. "And, of course, if it worked, they are still doing it-they would have done it to me!"

"I suppose they are, the sons of jackals! Although it
didn't
work all that well, to anyone with a gram of medical con-science. Forced ripening made for a high proportion of defec-tive zygotes, including nonviables. Most of the mistakes died young, but you've noticed the high incidence of albinos among the younger people here? That was one side effect."