Hell Hath No Fury
Part 1
“Coming up on Ferron now,” said Jenna. Avon thought her statement was superfluous as he and everybody else on board the Liberator had been tracking their progress, but he said nothing. Maybe Vila needed the hint.
“Zen, put it up on the main screen,” Blake said, and the computer replaced the blank main screen with a view of the bluish-purplish planet.
“It looks cold,” Vila remarked. “Zen, is it cold down there?”
But instead of answering Vila’s question, the computer reported, “Attention. There is an automatic repeating transmission coming from the main colony on Ferron. There is a plague on Ferron. Ships are advised not to approach.”
“Plague?” Blake asked, but Jenna quickly answered, “Zen, does this transmission have the word fiery in it?”
“Affirmative,” Zen replied. “The message reports that the inhabitants are suffering from an unknown plague with strange, fiery effects.”
“Strange, fiery effects? Like spontaneous combustion or something?” Vila moaned. “I don’t want to risk it.”
“You won’t be risking anything, Vila,” Jenna said, smiling slightly. “The message is false; it’s meant to keep out Federation ships or anybody else who doesn’t know the right response.”
“Oh,” Vila said.
“Would Lurgen know the right response?” Avon asked. There was hardly any point in continuing on to the planet if their target hadn’t survived the initial contact. Though that left the question of where they would go from there, if they did not succeed in finding either Lurgen or his brain print. Blake was almost fanatically obsessed with finding Star One, and Lurgen was his only lead now.
“Who knows?” Jenna asked. “He might have had friends, contacts who could have helped him.”
“But you know the right response, right, Jenna?” Vila asked, and Jenna smiled tolerantly down at him. “Yes, Vila, I’ve been here once before.”
She glanced around the flight deck. “When you come to think about it, what better place to go for a man who knows the Federation wants him either dead or brain-wiped? A secret colony that specialises in producing weapons for the resistance?”
“Sounds pretty safe to me,” Blake agreed. “Well, Jenna, since you’ve been here before, why don’t you contact the colony … and give the right response?”
Jenna nodded. “Zen, open a communications channel to the colony.”
“Channel open,” Zen chirped.
“Ferron Base, this is Jenna Stannis with the watery ship, the Liberator. We’d like to trade, but not for weapons. Permission to come down and negotiate?”
During the long pause that followed, Blake smirked a little. “I’ve never heard the Liberator described as watery before.”
“I assume that’s the correct response,” Avon stated, but Jenna only answered with a quick smile.
They waited, and just as Jenna was getting ready to repeat the message, the reply came. “Liberator, this is Ferron Base. Are you sure you want to enter our hot plague zone?”
“We’re quite prepared to leave our cold, wet ship,” Jenna affirmed.
“Then you have permission to come down and negotiate.”
“Excellent,” Blake announced. “Jenna, you come with me, since you’re so good at this type of thing. You, too, Avon. Cally, can you operate the teleport?”
“Of course.” Cally had been quiet since they’d arrived in the Ferron system, but then, Vila and Jenna had scarcely given anybody else the chance to talk.
“Will we need any special equipment?” Blake asked.
“Like what?” Jenna was surprised at the question. “I shouldn’t think so.”
“Weapons?” Avon asked, and Jenna shook her head. “Everybody comes unarmed to the negotiations. You can take them if you want, but you’ll have to hand them over when we get there.”
That didn’t stop Avon from kitting himself out with one of the Liberator’s weapons before joining the others at the strong room. Jenna was just coming out, holding a small bag.
“This should be more than enough to bargain with,” she said, holding it out to Blake. But Blake refused it with a smile. “You keep it, Jenna. You know more about this than any of us.”
Jenna tucked it into a pouch on her belt and Avon led the way to the teleport room. Cally was already there, setting the controls as Avon and the others snapped the teleport bracelets around their wrists. Once they’d stepped into the bay, Blake said, “Put us down, Cally.”
The Liberator dissolved around them, and a series of low, white buildings came into focus instead. The buildings had once been inside a dome, but much of the structure was missing now, and aside from the man-high base wall, there were only a few curved sections left. The grounds around the buildings looked scraggly and unkempt, though they might have been neat once.
Sensing movement of the corner of his eye, Avon turned, pulling out his weapon, but it was only a dog, loping towards a stick on the ground. Blake gave Avon a reproachful glance, one that didn’t need words, and Avon re-holstered the gun. The dog snapped up the stick and galloped back the way it had come to deposit its treasure at the foot of a small child Avon hadn’t noticed before. The child – he couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl – picked up the stick, said something to the dog, and threw it directly at Avon. It landed short.
“I’ve never seen children here before,” Jenna said with a smile. “Come on, it’s this way.”
She led them to the nearest building, the front side of which consisted completely of transparent material – windows that hadn’t been washed lately. The door slid open as they approached, and they entered into a lounge area with comfy chairs and small tables. It was not only empty, Avon thought, it felt disused. After they’d waited expectantly for a few moments, Jenna said, “This is different. The last time I was here, they had guards.”
“Perhaps they have automatic defenses now?” Avon suggested, glancing around the room.
“It almost seems like nobody’s here,” Jenna said, glancing around as well.
“Maybe there isn’t,” Blake suggested. “Could their response to our communication have been automatic?”
“I don’t think so,” Jenna said slowly, but Avon could see she was considering the possibility.
They waited a bit longer, and then a door opposite the entrance slid open to admit a woman of undeterminable age. “Oh … you’re already here. I wasn’t expecting you so soon – I didn’t hear your ship land.”
“We teleported down,” Blake announced.
“So the rumours are true?”
“That depends on the rumour,” Avon told her, and the woman nodded without smiling. “Of course. If you’ll place any weapons you have here, then we can all sit down and negotiate.”
While Avon removed the weapon from his belt and placed it on the side table that she indicated, he heard Blake announce that he and Jenna had come unarmed.
“You must have been here before,” the woman said.
“I have,” Jenna said. “My navigator and I met with Krell.”
“Yes,” the woman said, sitting down opposite Blake with a sigh. “Krell’s dead now, I’m afraid. I’m Cilla, you’ll be negotiating with me.”
Blake made the introductions. “Roj Blake, Jenna Stannis, Kerr Avon.”
“Famous names,” Cilla said. “Famous ship. Well. What sort of weapons do you need in your quest to bring down the Federation?”
“Not weapons, more … information,” Blake said.
“That’s a new one,” Cilla remarked. “What sort of information?”
“The location of Star One,” Blake announced, and Avon mentally rolled his eyes. Did Blake have to tell everybody about his plan to find and destroy the Federation’s secret computer base? Gossip travelled faster than ships, especially from a place like this.
“Nobody knows where that is,” Cilla said instantly. “Not even the people who worked there.”
“We know. We’ve been tracking a cyber-surgeon called Lurgen,” Blake explained. “He’s one of the few people who does know where it is, and our source indicated that he came here to hide.”
“Lurgen,” Cilla repeated thoughtfully. “Yes. I can give you information on Lurgen, but I’ll want something in return.”
“We can bargain,” Jenna said, producing the bag of jewels. Cilla looked at it casually. “Before we start, I have one condition that is non-negotiable.”
“State it,” Blake said. Avon wouldn’t have spoken so eagerly.
“You have two other men on board the Liberator,” Cilla began, but Blake interrupted. “Only one. The other one was killed.”
“Oh.” Cilla paused, then added, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“What’s that got to do with the conditions for negotiation?” Avon asked, and Cilla glanced at him.
“We want you – all of you men – to contribute children to our society.”
Avon lifted his eyebrows, but Blake burst out laughing. “What? Where would we get children? We’re not slavers!”
“Not that way,” Cilla said. “We want each of you to spend the night with one of our women. They’ll get pregnant, and you can get what you came for.”
“Um,” Jenna began, obviously wondering how to explain certain facts about natural reproduction that even Avon knew, but the older woman made a gesture. “You think it’s not possible to ensure a natural pregnancy just like that, but we have ways of ensuring that it can be. That it will be.”
“What … ways?” Avon couldn’t help asking. He was still getting over the shock of her request and finding, to his great surprise, that he was intrigued.
“I don’t understand,” Blake went on before Cilla could get to the interesting part. “Why would you want this from us?”
“And what do you want from me?” Jenna put in. Avon thought that was a fair question.
“Nothing, from you,” Cilla said. “Unless you’re willing to stay a year.”
Jenna reacted bodily, and Cilla smiled. “Don’t worry, we won’t demand that. Actually we have a surplus of women at the moment. It’s really only the men that we need. You see, about three years ago, we were hit by a plague. It must have been engineered by somebody – the Federation, perhaps – because all of the men died, and even those women who were pregnant with male children.”
“That’s horrible!” Jenna exclaimed.
“And ironic,” Cilla went on. “After so many years of us hiding behind the automatic plague message, it became reality. We’ve been trying to re-build our society since then.”
“If it was engineered, then why not kill everybody?” Avon mused aloud. “Why leave half of you alive?”
“It might have been a test,” Cilla went on. “Or an accident. We’re not sure.”
“And you didn’t think of evacuating to another planet?” Blake asked. “I seem to recall several colonies that have many more men than women.”
“We have everything we need here,” Cilla said. “And we can still keep our weapons trade going, if a bit slower than before. Still, most people are willing to wait, and enjoy our hospitality while they do so.”
“Why not advertise for men to come here, then?” Avon asked.
“Naturally, we extend that invitation to everybody who comes,” Cilla said. “Are you willing to stay, for instance?”
“No,” Avon snapped.
“Neither are most people. Though one or two have accepted. So, now you know our price for negotiations. Are you willing to continue, or shall we end this meeting now?”
“And the women?” Blake asked. “They’re willing to go along with this? You’re not forcing them in any way?”
“No drugs, no threats, no blackmail?” Avon pressed, glad that Blake had raised the question itself. Being forced into something was enough to ruin any activity, no matter how pleasant it might be in itself.
“Not at all,” Cilla sounded quite blithe. “They’re quite eager, in fact. You can ask them yourselves.”
“Well, if that’s the case, then I’m willing to continue,” Blake announced, and looked over at Avon significantly.
“Just close your eyes and think of that great big computer at Star One,” Jenna whispered enticingly, and Avon glared sideways at her, because that was exactly what he had been considering. Blake might have plans to destroy it, but Avon was hoping he could persuade Blake not to. They could use that computer. And it wasn’t as though he disliked sex. In fact, he remembered it quite fondly. “I’m willing to continue.”
Jenna grinned. “Vila’s going to love this.”
Yes, Avon thought, he probably would.
Jenna got up and stepped away from the others, then activated the communicator on her bracelet. “Cally, Vila, can you bring me up? Just me, no one else?”
Avon watched her disappear, then turned back to Cilla. Blake was leaning forwards as well. “Now, about Lurgen …”
“He’s dead,” Cilla said. “We buried him two days after he arrived.”
“Dead!” Blake repeated, and Avon felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. What if they never got the information they needed and never reached the Federation’s super computer?
“What did you do with his effects?” he asked quickly, and Blake caught onto the hope. “He had a brain scan with him – that brain scan should be able to give us the location of Star One.”
“Yes, there was a brain scan with him,” Cilla remembered. “We wondered what that was all about. But we buried it with him.”
There was a slight whooshing sound where Jenna had been standing. Vila had arrived, but Avon ignored him. “Then all we have to do is dig him up and find it.”
“Dig up who?” Vila asked. “And how deep is he buried? Blake, is that why Jenna came back to the ship? ‘Cause I’m sure she’d be better at digging than I am.”
“Jenna didn’t tell you?” Blake asked, and Vila replied, “No! She just grinned and said you needed me down here. She didn’t say anything about digging up dead people.”
He paused, then added, “Who’s dead, anyway?”
“Lurgen,” Blake said. “And the brain scan’s in his grave with him.”
“Oh.” Vila considered this. “Lucky they don’t go in for cremation on this planet, eh?”
Sometimes, Avon thought, just sometimes, Vila said something reasonable. Usually at the most annoying times.
“Blake, wouldn’t you know it, I left my shovel back on the Liberator,” Vila went on, and raised his teleport bracelet closer to his mouth with the obvious intent of running and hiding from hard work.
“Actually, Vila, the Ferrons want you for a completely different reason,” Avon told him.
“Me? What do they want me for?”
“Strange as it may seem, they want you to father a child.”
Vila froze, and Avon enjoyed the look of shocked panic on his face. “What?”
“Obviously, they’re not choosy as to how they replenish their population.” Avon watched as Vila stumbled over to the nearest chair and sank into it.
“Oh, no, we’re not choosy at all,” Cilla said with a broad smile. “We even take Federation officers.”
“Do you get many of those?” Blake asked, both anxious and curious.
“Well, by the time they get here, they’re usually ex-Federation officers,” Cilla explained, emphasizing the “ex.”
“I’d be a better father than any Federation officer!” Vila sat up straighter. “I like kids.”
“You can stop by and visit it any time,” Cilla assured him, and Vila finally smiled back. “Can I have more than one? I always wanted a few little Vilas of my own.”
“Perhaps you’d like to stay and found a Restal dynasty?” Avon suggested coldly, shuddering inwardly at the thought of more than one Vila in the universe.
“One man, one child,” Cilla said. “That’s another of our rules. I take it you are willing?”
“Oh, yes,” Vila said, obviously not disappointed by the restriction. “I’m willing.”
Avon glanced over to see Blake’s reaction, but the man looked almost as eager as Vila. Avon wasn’t sure himself how he felt. Sex was one thing, but children? He’d never really thought about them before; it was strange to think that he could soon have one of his own. But the idea also had its negative side. Close ties could be used against them.
“We want your guarantee that the Federation will never know that these children are related to us,” he heard himself saying, and Cilla said, “You have it.”
She glanced around, waiting for anybody else to speak, but when nobody did, she said, “Right. Now that we have all the facts on the table, let’s get down to business.”
It took a few minutes for her and Blake to work out an appropriate price, but eventually, both sat back in satisfaction. Blake counted out the required jewels and Cilla pocketed them, then stood up.
“And now for the other half of the payment,” she said, and went back to the door through which she’d entered. She pressed the control to open it, then called through, “You can come in now.”
Three women of various ages entered, and the men stood up to greet them. They were all beautiful in their own way, with their smiles ranging from delight to shy. Vila grinned back, Blake smiled the smile he always used in an attempt to charm and even Avon felt himself loosening up -- much more than he’d intended.
“Where’s Teyet?” Cilla asked, and the women looked surprised. The one with the shy smile said, “Was she supposed to be here?”
“Yes, she was.” Cilla frowned disapprovingly, then took what Avon had assumed was a brooch on the front of her dress and held it to her mouth. “Teyet. Teyet!”
The sound that came through sounded like a preoccupied, “Hmm?”
“Come to the main lounge at once!”
“Already?” There was a pause, and then a slightly panicked, “Oh! Sorry! Yes, I’m coming!”
When Cilla had switched off, Vila asked, “Do we get to choose, then?”
“You may, since there are more of us than you,” Cilla told him. “Or at least there will be, once Teyet gets here.”
“I think I know which one I’m choosing,” Vila said, and the shy woman’s smile became more bold under his gaze. Avon was surprised to feel a slight sense of relief that Vila hadn’t picked the woman whom he himself had found most appealing.
They waited for several awkward moments before the door slid open again to admit the tardy Teyet. She’d obviously been running, and trying to conceal it, but her heavy breathing gave her away. Tearing his eyes away from her chest, the next thing that Avon noticed was that she was quite plain in comparison to the other women; not ugly, but certainly not beautiful. Also, she was at least ten years younger than all of them, if not more. But like the others, she radiated that certain something …
“You were working with that computer again, weren’t you?” Cilla asked. Although she spoke in a low voice, Avon was close enough to hear, and the word ‘computer’ caught his interest immediately.
“I was off-shift!” Teyet protested in the same quiet, but intense tone.
“That computer is not our priority. You’re wasting your time and energy on it.”
“It’s my time and energy to waste,” Teyet hissed back. “I exceeded my quota to-day, and I’m allowed to do what I like in my free time! This computer could be more important than you think one day.”
“But one day is not to-day,” Cilla said. “And you were late to meet our guests.”
“Five minutes!”
“You should have been waiting with the others. Now forget that computer and at least try to look pleasant.”
Teyet swallowed hard, then took a deep breath and smiled at each of them in turn. To Avon, the smile was both artificial and completely unnecessary. He’d seen true passion in her eyes when she’d been talking about that computer.
“Now you may choose,” Cilla said, glancing significantly at Vila. Avon watched as the man stepped forward and extended one hand.
“Hello, I’m Vila Restal,” he said. “You wouldn’t happen to be a thief like me, would you? Because you’ve just stolen my heart.”
The woman giggled, took his hand, and led him towards the door. Blake soon followed with his choice, and Avon was left with the woman he’d originally been attracted to, and Teyet. She’d stopped smiling and looked resignedly from him to the other woman, no doubt expecting to be passed over. Avon came forward and stopped in front of her.
“Well now,” he said and put out his hand. “Tell me about this computer you’re working on.”
Teyet’s face lit up again as she reached out to him, but before she could say anything, Cilla coughed twice. Harshly.
Teyet grimaced. “Duty first.”
“Of course,” Avon agreed. “Duty first.”
Part 2
“Zen, put it up on the main screen,” Blake said, and the computer replaced the blank main screen with a view of the bluish-purplish planet.
“It looks cold,” Vila remarked. “Zen, is it cold down there?”
But instead of answering Vila’s question, the computer reported, “Attention. There is an automatic repeating transmission coming from the main colony on Ferron. There is a plague on Ferron. Ships are advised not to approach.”
“Plague?” Blake asked, but Jenna quickly answered, “Zen, does this transmission have the word fiery in it?”
“Affirmative,” Zen replied. “The message reports that the inhabitants are suffering from an unknown plague with strange, fiery effects.”
“Strange, fiery effects? Like spontaneous combustion or something?” Vila moaned. “I don’t want to risk it.”
“You won’t be risking anything, Vila,” Jenna said, smiling slightly. “The message is false; it’s meant to keep out Federation ships or anybody else who doesn’t know the right response.”
“Oh,” Vila said.
“Would Lurgen know the right response?” Avon asked. There was hardly any point in continuing on to the planet if their target hadn’t survived the initial contact. Though that left the question of where they would go from there, if they did not succeed in finding either Lurgen or his brain print. Blake was almost fanatically obsessed with finding Star One, and Lurgen was his only lead now.
“Who knows?” Jenna asked. “He might have had friends, contacts who could have helped him.”
“But you know the right response, right, Jenna?” Vila asked, and Jenna smiled tolerantly down at him. “Yes, Vila, I’ve been here once before.”
She glanced around the flight deck. “When you come to think about it, what better place to go for a man who knows the Federation wants him either dead or brain-wiped? A secret colony that specialises in producing weapons for the resistance?”
“Sounds pretty safe to me,” Blake agreed. “Well, Jenna, since you’ve been here before, why don’t you contact the colony … and give the right response?”
Jenna nodded. “Zen, open a communications channel to the colony.”
“Channel open,” Zen chirped.
“Ferron Base, this is Jenna Stannis with the watery ship, the Liberator. We’d like to trade, but not for weapons. Permission to come down and negotiate?”
During the long pause that followed, Blake smirked a little. “I’ve never heard the Liberator described as watery before.”
“I assume that’s the correct response,” Avon stated, but Jenna only answered with a quick smile.
They waited, and just as Jenna was getting ready to repeat the message, the reply came. “Liberator, this is Ferron Base. Are you sure you want to enter our hot plague zone?”
“We’re quite prepared to leave our cold, wet ship,” Jenna affirmed.
“Then you have permission to come down and negotiate.”
“Excellent,” Blake announced. “Jenna, you come with me, since you’re so good at this type of thing. You, too, Avon. Cally, can you operate the teleport?”
“Of course.” Cally had been quiet since they’d arrived in the Ferron system, but then, Vila and Jenna had scarcely given anybody else the chance to talk.
“Will we need any special equipment?” Blake asked.
“Like what?” Jenna was surprised at the question. “I shouldn’t think so.”
“Weapons?” Avon asked, and Jenna shook her head. “Everybody comes unarmed to the negotiations. You can take them if you want, but you’ll have to hand them over when we get there.”
That didn’t stop Avon from kitting himself out with one of the Liberator’s weapons before joining the others at the strong room. Jenna was just coming out, holding a small bag.
“This should be more than enough to bargain with,” she said, holding it out to Blake. But Blake refused it with a smile. “You keep it, Jenna. You know more about this than any of us.”
Jenna tucked it into a pouch on her belt and Avon led the way to the teleport room. Cally was already there, setting the controls as Avon and the others snapped the teleport bracelets around their wrists. Once they’d stepped into the bay, Blake said, “Put us down, Cally.”
The Liberator dissolved around them, and a series of low, white buildings came into focus instead. The buildings had once been inside a dome, but much of the structure was missing now, and aside from the man-high base wall, there were only a few curved sections left. The grounds around the buildings looked scraggly and unkempt, though they might have been neat once.
Sensing movement of the corner of his eye, Avon turned, pulling out his weapon, but it was only a dog, loping towards a stick on the ground. Blake gave Avon a reproachful glance, one that didn’t need words, and Avon re-holstered the gun. The dog snapped up the stick and galloped back the way it had come to deposit its treasure at the foot of a small child Avon hadn’t noticed before. The child – he couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl – picked up the stick, said something to the dog, and threw it directly at Avon. It landed short.
“I’ve never seen children here before,” Jenna said with a smile. “Come on, it’s this way.”
She led them to the nearest building, the front side of which consisted completely of transparent material – windows that hadn’t been washed lately. The door slid open as they approached, and they entered into a lounge area with comfy chairs and small tables. It was not only empty, Avon thought, it felt disused. After they’d waited expectantly for a few moments, Jenna said, “This is different. The last time I was here, they had guards.”
“Perhaps they have automatic defenses now?” Avon suggested, glancing around the room.
“It almost seems like nobody’s here,” Jenna said, glancing around as well.
“Maybe there isn’t,” Blake suggested. “Could their response to our communication have been automatic?”
“I don’t think so,” Jenna said slowly, but Avon could see she was considering the possibility.
They waited a bit longer, and then a door opposite the entrance slid open to admit a woman of undeterminable age. “Oh … you’re already here. I wasn’t expecting you so soon – I didn’t hear your ship land.”
“We teleported down,” Blake announced.
“So the rumours are true?”
“That depends on the rumour,” Avon told her, and the woman nodded without smiling. “Of course. If you’ll place any weapons you have here, then we can all sit down and negotiate.”
While Avon removed the weapon from his belt and placed it on the side table that she indicated, he heard Blake announce that he and Jenna had come unarmed.
“You must have been here before,” the woman said.
“I have,” Jenna said. “My navigator and I met with Krell.”
“Yes,” the woman said, sitting down opposite Blake with a sigh. “Krell’s dead now, I’m afraid. I’m Cilla, you’ll be negotiating with me.”
Blake made the introductions. “Roj Blake, Jenna Stannis, Kerr Avon.”
“Famous names,” Cilla said. “Famous ship. Well. What sort of weapons do you need in your quest to bring down the Federation?”
“Not weapons, more … information,” Blake said.
“That’s a new one,” Cilla remarked. “What sort of information?”
“The location of Star One,” Blake announced, and Avon mentally rolled his eyes. Did Blake have to tell everybody about his plan to find and destroy the Federation’s secret computer base? Gossip travelled faster than ships, especially from a place like this.
“Nobody knows where that is,” Cilla said instantly. “Not even the people who worked there.”
“We know. We’ve been tracking a cyber-surgeon called Lurgen,” Blake explained. “He’s one of the few people who does know where it is, and our source indicated that he came here to hide.”
“Lurgen,” Cilla repeated thoughtfully. “Yes. I can give you information on Lurgen, but I’ll want something in return.”
“We can bargain,” Jenna said, producing the bag of jewels. Cilla looked at it casually. “Before we start, I have one condition that is non-negotiable.”
“State it,” Blake said. Avon wouldn’t have spoken so eagerly.
“You have two other men on board the Liberator,” Cilla began, but Blake interrupted. “Only one. The other one was killed.”
“Oh.” Cilla paused, then added, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“What’s that got to do with the conditions for negotiation?” Avon asked, and Cilla glanced at him.
“We want you – all of you men – to contribute children to our society.”
Avon lifted his eyebrows, but Blake burst out laughing. “What? Where would we get children? We’re not slavers!”
“Not that way,” Cilla said. “We want each of you to spend the night with one of our women. They’ll get pregnant, and you can get what you came for.”
“Um,” Jenna began, obviously wondering how to explain certain facts about natural reproduction that even Avon knew, but the older woman made a gesture. “You think it’s not possible to ensure a natural pregnancy just like that, but we have ways of ensuring that it can be. That it will be.”
“What … ways?” Avon couldn’t help asking. He was still getting over the shock of her request and finding, to his great surprise, that he was intrigued.
“I don’t understand,” Blake went on before Cilla could get to the interesting part. “Why would you want this from us?”
“And what do you want from me?” Jenna put in. Avon thought that was a fair question.
“Nothing, from you,” Cilla said. “Unless you’re willing to stay a year.”
Jenna reacted bodily, and Cilla smiled. “Don’t worry, we won’t demand that. Actually we have a surplus of women at the moment. It’s really only the men that we need. You see, about three years ago, we were hit by a plague. It must have been engineered by somebody – the Federation, perhaps – because all of the men died, and even those women who were pregnant with male children.”
“That’s horrible!” Jenna exclaimed.
“And ironic,” Cilla went on. “After so many years of us hiding behind the automatic plague message, it became reality. We’ve been trying to re-build our society since then.”
“If it was engineered, then why not kill everybody?” Avon mused aloud. “Why leave half of you alive?”
“It might have been a test,” Cilla went on. “Or an accident. We’re not sure.”
“And you didn’t think of evacuating to another planet?” Blake asked. “I seem to recall several colonies that have many more men than women.”
“We have everything we need here,” Cilla said. “And we can still keep our weapons trade going, if a bit slower than before. Still, most people are willing to wait, and enjoy our hospitality while they do so.”
“Why not advertise for men to come here, then?” Avon asked.
“Naturally, we extend that invitation to everybody who comes,” Cilla said. “Are you willing to stay, for instance?”
“No,” Avon snapped.
“Neither are most people. Though one or two have accepted. So, now you know our price for negotiations. Are you willing to continue, or shall we end this meeting now?”
“And the women?” Blake asked. “They’re willing to go along with this? You’re not forcing them in any way?”
“No drugs, no threats, no blackmail?” Avon pressed, glad that Blake had raised the question itself. Being forced into something was enough to ruin any activity, no matter how pleasant it might be in itself.
“Not at all,” Cilla sounded quite blithe. “They’re quite eager, in fact. You can ask them yourselves.”
“Well, if that’s the case, then I’m willing to continue,” Blake announced, and looked over at Avon significantly.
“Just close your eyes and think of that great big computer at Star One,” Jenna whispered enticingly, and Avon glared sideways at her, because that was exactly what he had been considering. Blake might have plans to destroy it, but Avon was hoping he could persuade Blake not to. They could use that computer. And it wasn’t as though he disliked sex. In fact, he remembered it quite fondly. “I’m willing to continue.”
Jenna grinned. “Vila’s going to love this.”
Yes, Avon thought, he probably would.
Jenna got up and stepped away from the others, then activated the communicator on her bracelet. “Cally, Vila, can you bring me up? Just me, no one else?”
Avon watched her disappear, then turned back to Cilla. Blake was leaning forwards as well. “Now, about Lurgen …”
“He’s dead,” Cilla said. “We buried him two days after he arrived.”
“Dead!” Blake repeated, and Avon felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. What if they never got the information they needed and never reached the Federation’s super computer?
“What did you do with his effects?” he asked quickly, and Blake caught onto the hope. “He had a brain scan with him – that brain scan should be able to give us the location of Star One.”
“Yes, there was a brain scan with him,” Cilla remembered. “We wondered what that was all about. But we buried it with him.”
There was a slight whooshing sound where Jenna had been standing. Vila had arrived, but Avon ignored him. “Then all we have to do is dig him up and find it.”
“Dig up who?” Vila asked. “And how deep is he buried? Blake, is that why Jenna came back to the ship? ‘Cause I’m sure she’d be better at digging than I am.”
“Jenna didn’t tell you?” Blake asked, and Vila replied, “No! She just grinned and said you needed me down here. She didn’t say anything about digging up dead people.”
He paused, then added, “Who’s dead, anyway?”
“Lurgen,” Blake said. “And the brain scan’s in his grave with him.”
“Oh.” Vila considered this. “Lucky they don’t go in for cremation on this planet, eh?”
Sometimes, Avon thought, just sometimes, Vila said something reasonable. Usually at the most annoying times.
“Blake, wouldn’t you know it, I left my shovel back on the Liberator,” Vila went on, and raised his teleport bracelet closer to his mouth with the obvious intent of running and hiding from hard work.
“Actually, Vila, the Ferrons want you for a completely different reason,” Avon told him.
“Me? What do they want me for?”
“Strange as it may seem, they want you to father a child.”
Vila froze, and Avon enjoyed the look of shocked panic on his face. “What?”
“Obviously, they’re not choosy as to how they replenish their population.” Avon watched as Vila stumbled over to the nearest chair and sank into it.
“Oh, no, we’re not choosy at all,” Cilla said with a broad smile. “We even take Federation officers.”
“Do you get many of those?” Blake asked, both anxious and curious.
“Well, by the time they get here, they’re usually ex-Federation officers,” Cilla explained, emphasizing the “ex.”
“I’d be a better father than any Federation officer!” Vila sat up straighter. “I like kids.”
“You can stop by and visit it any time,” Cilla assured him, and Vila finally smiled back. “Can I have more than one? I always wanted a few little Vilas of my own.”
“Perhaps you’d like to stay and found a Restal dynasty?” Avon suggested coldly, shuddering inwardly at the thought of more than one Vila in the universe.
“One man, one child,” Cilla said. “That’s another of our rules. I take it you are willing?”
“Oh, yes,” Vila said, obviously not disappointed by the restriction. “I’m willing.”
Avon glanced over to see Blake’s reaction, but the man looked almost as eager as Vila. Avon wasn’t sure himself how he felt. Sex was one thing, but children? He’d never really thought about them before; it was strange to think that he could soon have one of his own. But the idea also had its negative side. Close ties could be used against them.
“We want your guarantee that the Federation will never know that these children are related to us,” he heard himself saying, and Cilla said, “You have it.”
She glanced around, waiting for anybody else to speak, but when nobody did, she said, “Right. Now that we have all the facts on the table, let’s get down to business.”
It took a few minutes for her and Blake to work out an appropriate price, but eventually, both sat back in satisfaction. Blake counted out the required jewels and Cilla pocketed them, then stood up.
“And now for the other half of the payment,” she said, and went back to the door through which she’d entered. She pressed the control to open it, then called through, “You can come in now.”
Three women of various ages entered, and the men stood up to greet them. They were all beautiful in their own way, with their smiles ranging from delight to shy. Vila grinned back, Blake smiled the smile he always used in an attempt to charm and even Avon felt himself loosening up -- much more than he’d intended.
“Where’s Teyet?” Cilla asked, and the women looked surprised. The one with the shy smile said, “Was she supposed to be here?”
“Yes, she was.” Cilla frowned disapprovingly, then took what Avon had assumed was a brooch on the front of her dress and held it to her mouth. “Teyet. Teyet!”
The sound that came through sounded like a preoccupied, “Hmm?”
“Come to the main lounge at once!”
“Already?” There was a pause, and then a slightly panicked, “Oh! Sorry! Yes, I’m coming!”
When Cilla had switched off, Vila asked, “Do we get to choose, then?”
“You may, since there are more of us than you,” Cilla told him. “Or at least there will be, once Teyet gets here.”
“I think I know which one I’m choosing,” Vila said, and the shy woman’s smile became more bold under his gaze. Avon was surprised to feel a slight sense of relief that Vila hadn’t picked the woman whom he himself had found most appealing.
They waited for several awkward moments before the door slid open again to admit the tardy Teyet. She’d obviously been running, and trying to conceal it, but her heavy breathing gave her away. Tearing his eyes away from her chest, the next thing that Avon noticed was that she was quite plain in comparison to the other women; not ugly, but certainly not beautiful. Also, she was at least ten years younger than all of them, if not more. But like the others, she radiated that certain something …
“You were working with that computer again, weren’t you?” Cilla asked. Although she spoke in a low voice, Avon was close enough to hear, and the word ‘computer’ caught his interest immediately.
“I was off-shift!” Teyet protested in the same quiet, but intense tone.
“That computer is not our priority. You’re wasting your time and energy on it.”
“It’s my time and energy to waste,” Teyet hissed back. “I exceeded my quota to-day, and I’m allowed to do what I like in my free time! This computer could be more important than you think one day.”
“But one day is not to-day,” Cilla said. “And you were late to meet our guests.”
“Five minutes!”
“You should have been waiting with the others. Now forget that computer and at least try to look pleasant.”
Teyet swallowed hard, then took a deep breath and smiled at each of them in turn. To Avon, the smile was both artificial and completely unnecessary. He’d seen true passion in her eyes when she’d been talking about that computer.
“Now you may choose,” Cilla said, glancing significantly at Vila. Avon watched as the man stepped forward and extended one hand.
“Hello, I’m Vila Restal,” he said. “You wouldn’t happen to be a thief like me, would you? Because you’ve just stolen my heart.”
The woman giggled, took his hand, and led him towards the door. Blake soon followed with his choice, and Avon was left with the woman he’d originally been attracted to, and Teyet. She’d stopped smiling and looked resignedly from him to the other woman, no doubt expecting to be passed over. Avon came forward and stopped in front of her.
“Well now,” he said and put out his hand. “Tell me about this computer you’re working on.”
Teyet’s face lit up again as she reached out to him, but before she could say anything, Cilla coughed twice. Harshly.
Teyet grimaced. “Duty first.”
“Of course,” Avon agreed. “Duty first.”
Part 2