The Mendel Experiment (15 page)

“Do you think The Claw will try to stop us?” Riss asked.

“I don’t think so,” Greelon replied thoughtfully. “But we are leaving quickly before he consolidates his power and gathers more support. He is very ambitious.”

“He doesn’t like us very much, either,” Riss understated.

“The leader of the delegation that visited your colony world; what the Federation calls The Massacre, was The Claw’s brother’s son. Several of his former comrades were killed,” Greelon explained.

Riss murmured deep in his throat. “I guess that
is
a good reason to hate us.”

“That is only one reason The Head wants to be on this ship.”

“To try and negotiate with the Federation,” Corree remembered. “I hope they will listen.”

“Do you really think your fellow Mendelians will accept us?”

“We are adaptable,” Corree reminded him.

Greelon clacked his amusement even while he directed two house servants to take care of his belongings.

When they drove away from Greelon’s estate, there were several vehicles following them. The rest of Greelon’s household, Corree assumed. The caravan was unmolested until they were almost at the space port. Several military transports as well as a large contingent of guards were blocking the roadway.

“Can’t you use the hover-mode?” Riss asked.

“It would do no good,” Greelon replied. He turned to Corree. “I know you were able to mutate to look like me. Could you two mutate to look like older Ologrians?”

It was easy for Corree, but Riss? She mutated even as she was talking to Riss. “We practiced. You can do this. Remember how you changed to look like Nurton.”

Riss took a deep breath, closed his eyes and concentrated. She held his hands and encouraged him. He grew taller and lankier. His cheeks became more sunken and the eyes were hooded. Just as he was concentrating on the last details, a guard jerked the door open.

“Where are the human vermin?” he demanded. The guards peered closely at Corree and Riss.

“They went ahead of my people. They are with The Head’s guard,” Greelon said mildly. “As a precaution.”

No one said anything else for several seconds. The guard growled and ordered the men away. The caravan continued a short distance before Corree realized she had never told Greelon she had been mutating into other Ologrians. “How…did you know?”

“Odd things Nurton told me. Then I saw you one night watching the stars. It was like seeing a mirror image of myself. I realized it was you,” He looked thoughtful. “If only our people had that ability, there would be so many worlds open to us. Worlds we wouldn’t have to fight anyone over.”

“You haven’t figured out from the samples you took from us?” Riss asked.

“We don’t have a regular human to compare to—to see what’s different. A control subject.”

“Maybe if talks with the Federation go well,” Corree suggested. “The old one, Windemere, he could show you. He is the scientist who created us.”

“Perhaps,” Greelon replied. He didn’t look very optimistic.

Corree didn’t blame him. “I will try my best to make that happen,” Corree vowed.

“I know you will, Corree-levret.”

The driver stopped near the main hatch of their space transport. It was blockish, more like a huge building than a space ship. It was the equivalent of ten of Greelon’s estates placed end on end and connected together. Corree couldn’t help it, she gaped.

Another one like it, slightly smaller, stood nearby. Ologrians were filing into it, carrying their meager belongings with them. The hatch to the larger ship slid open and a ramp like the one on the teaching pod slid the short distance to the ground, coming to a rest with a grinding clang.

As they stepped out of the vehicle, Corree saw that Riss’s mutation had partially reversed. She heard a shout near the spaceport gates. The bolt of a heat beam caused the ground at her feet to sizzle and smoke. At Greelon’s urging, she and Riss dashed up the ramp and through the open hatch. The other volunteers clambered aboard right behind them. Almost before Greelon pulled his tail in the doorway, a crewman closed and locked the hatch. “To the couches,” he ordered.

These launch couches were much more cushiony than the ones on the atmospheric craft. It was a good thing. Corree had barely laid down on one when she felt a rumbling and then heard an ear-piercing shriek. The ship rose slowly at first and then suddenly shrieked skyward. Gravity pushed her face into the cushion before she was able to turn her head and breathe. The screaming of the ship’s engines assaulted her ears for an eternity. Suddenly it stopped and for a brief moment she felt her body drifting off the couch. The restraints had not had time to engage before take-off. She clamped her hands to the side of the couch.

“Riss?”

“Yeah,” came his grunted reply.

“You okay?”

“Sure, are you? Hey, you’re floating. Well, your legs are anyway.”

“I know. It’s kind of fun.” She let go and rose toward the ceiling.

“Until we get gravity.”

“Oops, I hadn’t thought of that.” Several others were also drifting, but they were keeping a one-handed hold on their couches. Corree “swam” back toward her couch. That was when the artificial gravity engaged. She dropped to the deck with enough force to knock the breath out of her lungs.

There were several good-natured laughs.

“Corree? Are you all right?” Riss called out in alarm.

She sat up with a gasp. “I…I’m all right.” Corree checked her bruised shoulder and gingerly stood up. Everything else worked okay, too. “I should have known better.” She looked around but didn’t see Greelon. There were about thirty other Ologrians in the room, including a few members of Greelon’s staff. She wondered how many rooms were in this craft and how many people had made it.

She and Riss were pretty much left alone during their flight, but there wasn’t much to do in the large room. They slept, ate, and did very little else. Corree pulled out her reader and she and Riss would decipher an Ologrian textbook. Sometimes one of the passengers would engage her or Riss in conversation, but since the only thing they knew was what they had learned in Greelon’s house, the bantering was usually short. Corree began to suspect that most of the Ologrians on the ship were unaware there were two humans onboard with them.

Boredom had Riss pacing back and forth, which made her nervous. Corree wanted to ask somebody how long it would take them to get to Mendel, but didn’t know anyone in the room well enough to query.

“Corree,” a voice called from the entrance of the room. It was Nurton. “Lord Greelon wishes to see you and Riss.”

They followed Nurton through the doorway and down a long corridor. After going through several hatches and up an elevator, they came to an expansive room where a large number of Ologrians worked at consoles, panels, and large screens. Several huge monitors showed stars, parts of the ship’s outer hull, and a tiny Alogol. The alien star receded slowly as she watched. Corree gaped at the view.

“This is the heart of the ship, my children,” The Head explained. He sat in a deeply cushioned couch, almost in the middle of the room. He gave a clacking chuckle. “But then you are not my children. You are the children of Mendel. We will be equals on a harsh planet together. I hope.”

Corree didn’t know what to say.

“I wanted you here because I do not expect to get to Mendel without some kind of challenge.”

“Do you think the Federation will have ships waiting for us, your Emminence?” she asked.

“They would be stupid if they didn’t,” Riss commented just loud enough for the two Ologrians and Corree to hear.

“Essentially that was my thought as well,” The Head agreed.

“What will you do?” Corree asked.

“We will negotiate. I think it will be helpful if they know you are on the ship with us.”

“Like hostages?” Corree blurted.

“Not exactly, although that had been discussed, as you know,” The Head replied. “More like a good faith measure. Something to show we are willing to co-exist peacefully.”

“And if they aren’t willing to negotiate?” Corree and Riss asked together.

The Head didn’t reply right away. “We will do our best to get to Mendel without any loss of life. But understand; we must reach Mendel. Returning home is not an option.”

“I understand,” Corree said. She felt a warmth against her hip. Glancing down, she saw her specimen bag. Was the crystal returning the warmth of her body? She reached down and patted the bag. The gesture gave her some measure of reassurance.

While Corree and Riss spent most of their time in their living area, they visited the bridge at least once each day. Corree and Riss asked innumerable questions. Even so, she knew her knowledge was limited.

The refugees traveled unmolested until they reached three quarters of the way to Mendel. Two hulking space ships filled the view screens on the bridge.

Corree stared at them in awe. “They’re huge!”

“They appear that way because we have magnified the image with a telescopic lens on the outside camera,” the Captain, Lord Merkel, explained. “However, they are still large ships and I don’t doubt their firepower,” Merkel went on. “Your Eminence, are you sure it is to our advantage to try negotiations?”

“Yes, it is. I doubt we could match their weaponry,” The Head responded. “As soon as we are within range, contact them.”

A few more tense minutes passed. “They are opening up communications with us,” one of the Ologrian crewmen called out.

“Perhaps they, too, are willing to negotiate,” Greelon suggested.

Corree felt the largest blue stone warm her hip again. Riss had teased her about her attraction to the crystals, but Corree was unwilling to part with her pouch for even a short time. They were important, though she wasn’t sure why.

“I am getting a message,” the crewman said. “Activating the translator.”

But Corree didn’t need the translator. She knew exactly what they were saying—

“For crimes against the Federation, you must surrender!”

The Head kept a passive face. “Announce me with translator working optimum. Keep checking for weapon’s buildup.”

“Yes, Eminence.”

Corree held her breath as the announcement was made.

The Head stood in front of the view screen and began speaking. “We are not here to war with you but to negotiate. First, I want to inform you that we have been caring for the younglings that were sent to our outpost and are returning them to the world you created them to live on.” He motioned for Corree and Riss to move closer to him.

Corree felt her heart pounding as a human face filled the screen.

The man scowled at her and then turned back to The Head. “Where are they?” he demanded. “You expect me to believe these are our colonists?”

“Your people created mutants. You would expect them to not mutate?”

The Federation leader studied her and Riss again.

Corree stared right back at him. Yes, she could mutate but she wasn’t going to put on a show for this…this human. “I am Corree,” she declared. “I am the one you allowed to be captured by Ologrians. I am the one who was supposed to destroy Ologrians with a plague virus. It didn’t work.” Corree sincerely hoped the Ologrians had some way to bluff their way to Mendel. Something told her that her speech wasn’t going to sway these Federation soldiers. “Riss and I have been well treated by these people. They are returning us home. Let us continue to Mendel.”

The Federation officer’s face twisted from a look of surprise to one of disdain. Then he laughed. “You expect me to believe that? How do I know you are who you claim to be?”

Corree felt her anger surging through her body. She had been used by everybody and she was sick of it. This sneering human was the last straw. She felt hot and then cold. Standing to her full height, Corree realized she was taller; her body growing, mutating. She felt stronger. Hard surface skin changed to thick, luxurious white fur, mottled gray and black. Fangs pressed out under her lips. Large upright ears twitched nervously. Her longer furred tail lashed from side to side.

A roar bubbled up her throat and burst out. Even the crewmen who had been watching her jumped back. Corree gathered control of her emotions. She shrank the fangs to allow her to speak. “If you knew anything at all about the planet you sent us to, you would know this is a great mountain cat. It killed two of Riss’s family before they mutated and learned the best way to avoid them.” She panted softly.

The Ologrian captain had his hand on his side-arm. His eyes never left her. Corree returned her full attention to the human officer staring at her in open-mouthed disbelief.

“Do you believe me now?” Corree hissed. “We are here for peaceful purposes. You aren’t.”

“They are arming weapons, sir,” a tech called out.

“Perhaps you and the boy are,” the human caption growled. “But they aren’t… Fire!”

“Disrupter fire!” Lord Merkel shouted. There had barely been a breath between the two orders.

Corree mutated back to her Ologrian form, reaching out to steady herself as her body shape changed again. There was a sharp pain at her hip, a fiery heat that shot up her side and down her arm. Sparks spat and flared on the console where her hand rested. In her mind Corree saw blue flame course through the inner circuits of the control board, igniting a blast somewhere deep in the ship. The blast shot out from under the belly of the craft, split into two tongues of fire and enveloped the Federation warships. For several seconds they blazed like miniature suns, then the blue haze slowly dissipated and the ships hung dark and motionless.