HER BED WAS ARRAYED with soft toys . . .
Virginia was the daughter of Shareholders. At the age of nineteen, even in wartime, she should have been out on the town. The social life of Shareholder children was enviable. Instead, she lay on her bed, between Mister Ted and Mrs. Wobbly, and read.
She wasn't ugly. That was just what she believed. Indeed, if she, like her Shareholder-daughter contemporaries, had employed a beautician's services she could have been almost beautiful. Not in the pinup style, admittedly, with her lean figure and elfin face. But, still . . .
Nor would Virginia have objected to being almost beautiful. Not in the least. Her indifference to her own appearance was simply that of a brain-damaged girl who had never really thought about it. True, the alien Korozhet had repaired the damage a year earlier—or, at least, compensated for it—but Virginia's self-awareness still lagged far behind her new reality. It was starting to catch up, however. She found herself staring at herself in the mirror lately, wondering . . .
Her hair, for instance, was still braided in the same way that she had had it done when she was seven. Before the accident. For eleven years she'd insisted on keeping it that way. Nobody realized that now she might be prepared to change. So, every morning, the maids braided it.
Her clothes, too, still reflected the choices of her childhood. Her mother had no interest, and the secluded life they'd had "our poor Virginia" live meant that there were no friends to ape either. Nor was there much hope of finding any. Virginia's parents had long since adopted the habit of keeping their daughter sequestered at home. There were appearances to maintain, after all. No proper Shareholder—and her father was preeminent in that number—wanted to be exposed to ridicule. It was embarrassing enough to have a brain-damaged child, without having the creature's slurring words, fits and tantrums exposed to public scrutiny. A seven-year-old mind trapped in the body of teenager was not acceptable in polite society. Not in the least. So, for years before the Korozhet soft-cyber implant had liberated her, Virginia's only friends had been Mister Ted, and Mrs. Wobbly, and all the other soft and fuzzy residents of her soft and fuzzy bed. But, for all their sweet charm and kindly disposition, they were not much help when it came to giving advice to a nineteen-year-old girl beginning to wonder about her place in the world.
So she still didn't have any friends. Well, except for her darling "Professor" and Fluff, the galago. Fluff had been a cuddly pet before he was soft-cyber uplifted.
Her parents regarded her new improved self with vast relief. At least she was no longer throwing her fits and tantrums. Now and then, they even permitted her to join them at the dinner table in their mansion. Lately, as they'd become more confident that she would not publicly shame them, they'd even taken her to dinner in town. Her mother had ordered her Vat dressmaker to make suitable garments for that. Her mother's maid came to make her up and dress her hair for these occasions. The only thing Virginia disliked more than these rare outings was her mother's maid.
But, even so, a low public profile was still essential. What would people say about the Shaws having their daughter implanted with an alien-built nervous system enhancement device? The kind normally used on animals? Even Vats would whisper! (Not that the Shaws paid any attention to what the lower orders might say.)
Virginia didn't care. Much. After all, she had books. And so many! She had a whole childhood's reading to catch up on, in addition to all the adult books. There were real antique paper ones like the volume in her hand, or book-screen ones where she could blow the print up and didn't even have to use her thick glasses.
At the moment, she was devouring Regency romances from Old Earth. The download in her head had included Brontë, at her mother's insistence. Perhaps this had biased her, but she certainly enjoyed historical romances.
Fluff, on the other hand, did not. His objection was not to the genre as such, but to the activity itself. Because of the soft-cyber in the little galago's head it could read. But Fluff considered reading an effeminate pastime—and, what was worse, the wrong effeminate pastime. While Virginia was reading she was ignoring her far-more-important feminine duty, which was to pay attention to him.
He was most disgruntled. Was there anything more important to a macho hidalgo than the attentive admiration of a beautiful woman? Was there anything more natural than that she should adore him?
"Virginia, why do you read-read-read all of the time?" The little creature perched on her head and swung his long tail with its soft fur-ball at the end (that she so admired!) in front of her eyes. He knew that otherwise she wouldn't even notice him.
She plucked him off her head. Huge, limpid, dark eyes set in the tiny face of the long-tailed lemur-like creature stared back into her blue eyes. He blinked.
"So what else do you want me to do, Fluff?" she demanded. She was a bit irritated. Vernon had been on the brink of declaring himself to Frederica!
"Well . . . You could brush my fur, or"—hastily, seeing the start of a headshake—"we could dance?" This was a real sacrifice on his part. His soft-cyber had left him with a penchant for Wagner. She liked Viennese waltzes for similar reasons.
"Why don't you read a book instead?" she asked crossly. "I'm nearly finished with this one, and—"
"Then you will just start the next!" he protested.
Her door burst open. A ball, three feet in diameter and covered with rows of red-purple spines, came in, ambulating along on flexing spines. Virginia lowered the book and smiled broadly, her momentary pique quite forgotten.
"Professor!" There was no mistaking the delight in her voice on seeing the Korozhet. Most people found the sight of the sea-urchin-like alien somewhat unsettling. But Virginia thought the Professor was just darling. "What brings you here at this time of night?"
"Oh the relief of it! Oh, Miss Virginia! Oh, I am so glad to see you are unhurt!"
Virginia sat up straight, her eyes widening. The Korozhet's voice, transmitted through the device attached to its intricate speaking organ, expressed nothing in its tone. But Virginia, over the months, had learned to interpret many of the subtleties of the Professor's spine movements. (Much more, she sometimes thought with quiet pride and pleasure, than the Professor himself realized.) She had never seen that peculiar rattling of the spines before, but the motion and the noise practically shrieked: anxiety!
She began to ask a question, but the Korozhet cut her off. The Professor was already at her bedside, rattling its spines on the comforter. The hard organo-carbonate points left little tears in the cotton which enfolded the down interior.
"Quickly, Miss Virginia. Quickly! Come with me. We must flee at once."
Virginia flung aside the comforter and scrambled off the bed. "What's wrong?" she asked. But she didn't wait for an answer before gathering Fluff and planting him on her shoulder. An instant later, she was reaching for Mister Ted and Mrs. Wobbly. If it was a fire she must . . .
"Leave your possessions, Miss Virginia, leave them! It is you who are in danger, not they. Come quickly! We must away! The killers may still be here!"
"Killers?" She stopped.
"Keep moving, Miss Virginia! Your poor parents have been foully murdered! I have just now stumbled upon their corpses. The dreadful manner of their dying leaves me in no doubt: there are Jampad assassins here!"
Virginia gasped. She'd heard of the Jampad, from the Professor. "But I thought there were none of those . . . terrible things on the planet?"
"They must have approached secretly somehow. Oh, sorrow! That they should kill such worthy citizens!" The Korozhet was now trying to drive her towards the door. Virginia resisted long enough to put on more suitable clothing. She couldn't leave her room in her nightgown, after all. Her parents would be furious if she let the servants see—
Her parents were—dead? She groped for an emotional reaction, but couldn't find one.
"We must leave!" The Korozhet was starting to rap her legs with its spines, so great was its agitation. "Traitors must have told them that nothing could undermine the war effort more. Oh woe!"
Now they were through the door and into the corridor beyond. The Professor's anxiety had finally transferred itself to Virginia. And obviously to Fluff as well, by the way the galago was clutching her braids. Virginia began hurrying down the hallway. The Professor rattled in her wake, babbling in a rush.
"But at least they did not kill you, my dear! Your father—bless his wise soul—entrusted me, unworthy Korozhet that I am, with a contingency plan he had made against all eventualities." The Professor paused to replenish his wind bladder. "Such foresight! But he said to me in no uncertain terms: `I cannot be too careful, looking after my Virginia!' You were his most precious responsibility!"
Virginia swallowed. It sounded so . . . so romantic. But the momentary rush of affection for her father vanished almost as soon as it came. As she opened the door leading to the back staircase, she found herself repressing a sarcastic laugh. That just wasn't her father!
By the time she reached the first landing, sarcasm had been swept aside in its turn, replaced by affection for the Korozhet. Such a dear, he was! The Professor, by nature, always gave the best interpretation to everything.
The alien's next words confirmed her suspicion.
"You are his heir, Miss Virginia? I have that correctly?"
"Yes," she replied curtly. They had reached the bottom landing. She paused for an instant, pressing her ear against the door. She could hear nothing beyond. The silence left room for a sour thought. That's my father—worrying about the inheritance.
"It is a strange concept to us group-spawners," prattled the Professor. Frantically, Virginia waved her hand. Shhh!
But the alien seemed oblivious to the danger of making a noise. "I hope I can adequately fulfill your father's trust in me," said the Korozhet, talking as loudly as ever. "It is a heavy responsibility!"
Virginia sighed. The Professor was so absentminded. With a quick motion, she stooped and reached a hand into the mass of spines. It was the work of a split second to lower the volume on the voicebox. Thank heavens for standard controls.
The spines froze. Then, for an instant, bristled. Virginia realized that she had startled the alien. She had never actually touched the Professor before. She began to whisper an apology, but the Korozhet interrupted.
"Quite all right, my dear!" The spines seemed to soften. "I forget myself, you know. I am not accustomed to such peril!"
Virginia pressed her ear back against the door. Nothing. She decided it was safe to go through. Slowly, carefully, she turned the knob and cracked open the door. The action brought a stray and whimsical thought. On Old Earth, she knew, doors were opened by electronic means. But the colony on Harmony And Reason could afford no such complex mechanisms. It would hardly do to find oneself locked in because of the absence of an electronics industry.
She pushed her head through. The large underground garage beneath the mansion was deserted, except, of course, for the multitude of vehicles parked in it. Her father was a collector of such.
Virginia decided to take advantage of the opportunity. She sped across the flat expanse, her light feet making almost no noise at all. Behind, the alien scuttled in its effort to keep pace.
"Can you slow down a trifle?" complained the Professor. "My lower spines can barely cope with this mad dash! Fortunately I do not respire through my speaking-orifice, so I am able to converse with you. Otherwise, I would be quite out of breath."
Virginia reached the vehicle that was her target, and began to open the door.
"Not that one!" protested the Korozhet. "No, no—it will not do at all, Miss Virginia. We must take the off-road landspeeder."
Uncertainly, Virginia's eyes went to the vehicle in question. She had never driven it before. In fact, her parents had never allowed her to drive anything except the golf cart. Which—
She stared at the vehicle she had been about to climb into. A half-hysterical laugh began gurgling up in her throat. Which, I admit, is probably a ridiculous way to make an escape!
Fluff was glaring at the landspeeder. "I hate that thing! Makes me feel sick!"
His chittering attracted the Korozhet's attention. "You will have to leave that small creature behind," the Professor stated firmly.
Fluff's grip on Virginia's braids tightened. "No! I'll come along and look after her!" He stood up to his full eight inches—but without relinquishing his grip on her hair. "She needs male protection!"
Virginia shook her head decisively. The vigorous motion tossed the galago back and forth, squawking indignantly.
"No, Fluff," she pronounced. "If the Jampad are trying to kill me, you'll be much safer here."
The little hands clutched her hair like a vice. The galago had an amazing grip for a creature so small. "Get down, please," she said firmly.
"But Virginia . . ."
The Professor was back to its spine-rattling. "We must go quickly! Obey your mistress! Every moment we delay is dangerous!"
Moving with the same decisiveness with which she had shaken her head, Virginia reached up and pulled the galago away. She kissed the tiny monkey on his forehead and set him down on the pavement. Fluff tried to cling to her fingers with his little black hands, but Virginia forced him off.
"Go, Fluff." There was a sob in her voice. The galago jumped away with one of those prodigious leaps the species was capable of. He landed, surefooted, on the fender of a nearby luxury sedan.
As the Korozhet ushered Virginia into the passenger seat of the off-road landspeeder, the alien gave the galago a beady glare from all of the ocelli it could exude from its spines.
"Do not alert anyone!" it said forcefully. "Enemies may be anywhere." Without further ado the alien scurried around the front of the vehicle and bounced in through the driver's door, which Virginia had already opened. For all its awkward appearance, the Korozhet was remarkably agile.
Virginia had also already moved the front seat back, so that the rotund alien was able to fit itself into the space. It studied the controls. "The vehicle has automatic drive capabilities. I should be able to cope with any additional requirements, despite the fact that it is not designed for my species."
"I could try to drive, Professor," said Virginia hesitantly. She hadn't even thought of this problem. From long habit, drilled into her over the years by her parents, she had automatically taken the passenger seat. "I've never done so before, but—" She pushed her nervousness under. "Still, once a course is programmed in, the driver is little more than a failsafe. And I did read the instructions once, when my parents left me in the vehicle alone."
The Korozhet seemed to hesitate. But only briefly. "No. But we will opaque the windows. In case of snipers. There is great danger, and I must take great care of you. You will have to handle the security systems, Miss Virginia! The guards and the automatons will recognize you, and allow you passage. But you must be quick and careful. At least one of the guards must have been subverted to allow the Jampad in. We must give no clue that we are aware of the assassins, while being ready to race away at a moment's notice."
With its manipulatory spines exuding tiny suckers which it flicked over the expensive computerized controls, like a master pianist playing a long familiar piece, the alien set the landspeeder into motion. Virginia was deeply impressed by the sure manner of the movements. If she hadn't known better, she would have sworn the Professor was already familiar with the vehicle. They were so adept at technical matters, the Korozhet!
Despite the Professor's fears, they drove through the impressive security screen of Pygmalion House without any check or hindrance.
Virginia sighed with relief. "Four or five minutes should see us in town. We can take refuge in the police station."
The Korozhet clacked two of its spines in the motion which Virginia had come to interpret as respectful but firm disagreement. "We are not going into town, Miss Virginia. Absolutely not! Your father suspected enmity within the board of directors. He was right, clearly enough. That means the police have certainly been suborned."
Virginia frowned, considering his words. It was true enough that her father had enemies. A multitude of them, in fact, judging from his frequent complaints. But, if the police could not be relied upon . . .
Her voice was a bit shaky. "Then where—?"
"We must go to the plantation," stated the Professor firmly. It was already keying in the instructions. Within seconds, the vehicle turned onto the highway which led to the plantation, and accelerated. The huge agricultural complex was located far to the south of the capital city.
Virginia gasped. "But—the Magh' advance! On the Vid-news they said, and Papa was so angry, and . . ."
"Fortunately, they have held back the Magh' advance. Do not be concerned, Miss Virginia! Your wise father foresaw this contingency also. I assure you that his plans for your safety were very well thought out. And now, I must ask you to simply have faith in me. Operating this unfamiliar vehicle will take all of my concentration."
Virginia relaxed. Everything was very confusing, and unsettling. But if there was one thing that she did know, it was that she could trust the Professor. Absolutely. The Korozhet was a rock in the sudden shifting uncertainty of her once-ordered world. Thank heavens the Korozhet had been there, and had been unhurt. She shuddered. If the Jampad had spotted the Professor, they'd have killed it. For a certainty! The Professor had told her many times of the implacable hatred which the Jampad bore for all Korozhet.
She was tired, she realized. As usual, she had awakened early that morning. It was already late in the afternoon. Now that they appeared to be safe, she suddenly felt exhausted. Her eyes began to droop.
As she drifted off, her last conscious thought was of the Professor. Such a dear old fuddy-duddy. Like someone in one of her novels . . . Like a sort of "nice" version of Lord Bromford from The Grand Sophy.
Virginia was jarred awake by the howling of a siren. She sat up sharply in the seat and craned her head around.
"They're chasing us!"
A pair of motorcyclists were in hot pursuit. Police motorcyclists, or she misunderstood the flashing blue lights and sirens.
"Override! Full manual control!" barked the Korozhet. With a squeal of tires the Korozhet flung the wheel hard over. The vehicle leapt from the road and bounded across a muddy field, plowing through stalks of grain.
"But they're police. Surely—"
"Suborned, Miss Virginia. Suborned! This is just what your father anticipated!" For a creature with a hard exoskeleton covered in flexible spines, who had never driven before, the Korozhet was astonishingly adept at handling the vehicle.
The landspeeder was designed for off-road work. The motorcycles weren't. Within two minutes, the motorcycles were no longer in sight. Within five, even the sound of the shrieking sirens had faded away.
The fear and excitement were making Virginia feel awfully strange. She was reminded suddenly of the nightmarish trips to the ship's surgery, back in that horrible fuzzy time before her soft-cyber implant. She felt . . . giddy. Very weak. Very confused.
Had she been shot? She couldn't feel any pain, but she had read that wounds could be unnoticed at the time they were received. Shock, or something.
Her head lolled on the seat rest. Her eyes fell on the rear window but, this time, she was not peering intently at the motorcycles on the ground. Just gazing vacantly.
As consciousness slipped away, she caught sight of a tiny, furry face, too full of big eyes. Clinging under the back sunshade of the landspeeder, Fluff looked utterly terrified.
She awoke in darkness. The bed she lay on was extremely hard. Gradually her mind assimilated that it was no bed. A hard surface, slightly gritty in texture. They must have crashed!
Her first thought was for the Professor. Virginia began scrambling to her feet. But, instantly, her head crashed into an unseen surface above. Wincing from the pain, she collapsed back onto her knees.
After a moment, she began feeling around with her hands. The space she was in—whatever it was—seemed very small and cramped. Even in the darkness, she rapidly established there was no ball of prickles in here with her. There was just no room for anyone else.
Reaching up and probing the—ceiling? it seemed too gritty for a ceiling—she rapidly established that there was no room for the Professor to be hanging from the ceiling either.
Sighing heavily, she lay down on her back. Where am I? she wondered. Suddenly her thoughts turned to the last thing she'd seen. Fluff. "Oh, Fluff! My poor baby!"
"I'm here," said a sleepy voice near her ear.
"Oh, Fluff!" she squealed. An instant later, her hands were groping for the galago. But she couldn't feel him anywhere.
"What is happening?" she demanded, fighting to control her rising hysteria. "Where are we? And where are you?"
"I'm here." The galago's voice was alert, now. "There is a sort of air hole here. Hang on, I'll be back with you in a minute."
Virginia heard a scrabbling noise. A moment later, the galago landed on her shoulder and nuzzled her ear.
"Oh, Fluff!" She stroked his furry-velvety little body.
"It's all right, Virginia. I, Fluff, will look after you. Have no fear. Fluff is here!"
"Where are we, Fluff?"
The galago seemed to hesitate. Then: "We appear to be inside the tunnels of a Magh' scorpiary."