Chapter XV

Copper had been acting strangely of late, Kennon thought as he rolled over in his bed and watched her standing before the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. She pivoted slowly before the glass, eying herself critically, raising her arms over her head, holding them at her sides, flexing her supple spine and tightening muscles that moved like silken cords beneath her golden skin.

“What are you trying to do--become a muscle dancer?” Kennon asked idly.

She whirled, a crimson blush deepening the tan of her face. “You were supposed to be asleep,” she said.

“I’m an unregenerate heel,” he replied, “and I don’t sleep too well nowadays unless you’re beside me.”

“Well--I suppose you might as well know now as later,” she said. “You’ll know in any event.”

“Know what?”

“That you’re right. I am human.”

“And what brought on this sudden change of--” He stopped abruptly, his eyes widening.

“Yes,” Copper said. “I am with child. Your child.”

“But that’s impossible.”

She shook her head. “It’s a miracle perhaps, but it’s not impossible. It’s happened. Can’t you see the difference?”

“See what? You look just as you always do.”

“I suppose you can’t see it yet,” she admitted. “But I am with child. I’m two weeks past my time.”

Kennon’s mind leaped to the obvious conclusion. Pseudo-pregnancy. He had seen it before among Lani at Hillside Farm. It was an odd syndrome which occasionally occurred in humans and animals. The brain, desiring children, made demands upon the body and the body responded to its desire by tricking the brain. Lani were fairly subject to it probably because they had better imaginations. He would run a few tests when they went down to the hospital, and once she realized the practical joke her body was playing everything would be all right. No wonder she seemed excited.

“We’ll find out about that later,” he said equably. “We’ll settle this when we get back to the hospital.”

Copper smiled confidently and patted her stomach. “I know what you are thinking, but you’re wrong. We Lani know about these things. In forty generations I am the first to conceive as the Master intended.”

“I hope you haven’t,” Kennon said with such bitter sincerity that Copper looked at him wide-eyed. “Not now. Because if you have, neither your life nor mine is safe.”

“Why?”

“The Alexanders. Do you think they’ll take it lying down? We’re not ready for them yet. They’ll fight, and the first thing they’ll do is kill you and erase me so we would never be able to talk. You have been declared an animal, and you will not be allowed to change.”

“What can we do?” Copper asked. She shivered. “I do not want to die.”

“Nor do I want you to,” Kennon said.

“I could tell the others.”

“And just what would that accomplish?”

“In a week every Lani on the island would know it. There would be revolt. For the Lani would no longer be dependent upon Men to survive. Their greatest hold on us would be gone. And we would be free again on our island world.”

“You would not!” Kennon said. “That sort of thinking is foolishness. Alexander would have men here within a week, and a week after that you would be smashed. Don’t you realize that there are thousands of millions of men in the galaxy--and to every one of them you would be animals. You know nothing about what you would face. Your puny hundreds couldn’t even stand against a fraction of the power Alexander could mount against you. Have you seen a Burkholtz blaster work? Have you seen remote-control antipersonnel missiles? Have you push-pull projectors, atomic warheads? All of these weapons Alexander can command. Don’t you realize he’s an entrepreneur?--one of the most powerful men in this sector?”

Copper shook her head. “No,” she said in a small voice. “I know nothing about these things.”

“And do you think forty generations of absolute obedience to men can be overcome because one Lani says she is pregnant by a man?”

Copper frowned. “You put that in a different way. You talk as if it were my belief rather than the truth.”

“What is truth?” Kennon said heavily. “Who would believe you? There are hundreds of others with child.

“Sure you’re human. You know it. I know it. I’ve been trying to convince you for the past two months. You’re just as human as I am. But pray that you’re not pregnant. We can’t get out of here in less than four months and by then everybody will know about you. Someone will certainly check the records. And after that will come the psychoprobes. Everything will come to light. The Egg will be destroyed. I will be erased. You will be dead. And that will be the end of it.” He looked down at her with an odd expression of pity on his face. “You see?” he demanded harshly.

Copper nodded. “I didn’t understand,” she said. “Don’t be angry with me. I shouldn’t have told you. I thought you’d be happy.”

“I was never angry with you, but I am with myself. I was stupid. I didn’t figure on the remote possibility that we might be genetically compatible. I should have my head examined for putting you in such danger. However there’s the possibility--the probability--that your body is playing a trick upon you.”

She shook her head. “You are wrong. I am not mistaken. I am with child and the child is yours. But the fault is no more yours than mine. I wanted you before you looked on me. I still do and I do not feel at fault. That I am yours, that my child is yours is a thing of wonder and joy. Never could I have expected so much.”

Kennon looked down at her smudged face, streaked with the sudden rivulets of tears, and bitterness galled his throat. Dear God--let her be wrong, he prayed silently. Let it be pseudopregnancy this time. Let the tests be negative.

But they weren’t. Unequivocally they confirmed Copper’s diagnosis. Here was the proof he needed. The final test that would prove the Lani human. And he had no way of getting it where it would do any good. It would take at least four months of steady labor before the ship was ready, and he didn’t have that sort of time. He was needed here and his prolonged absence would cause suspicion and investigation. Something would have to be done--but what? He couldn’t take Copper off the island in an airboat. They were checked with microscopic care by Otpen One’s IFF. A jeep didn’t have enough range to take them to the mainland. And even if they got there they couldn’t get off the planet. Alexander knew everything that happened on Kardon’s two spaceports. The Egg was the only way, but the Egg was unfinished and unspaceworthy.

Frantically Kennon considered concealing Copper. He shook his head. It wouldn’t work. It would be impossible, to hide a baby on a place where every birth was recorded. Nor could one hide evidence of pregnancy in a Lani. Childbearing leaves telltale marks upon the body, and Copper, even if she could be concealed for the duration of her pregnancy, could never survive the sharp-eyed scrutiny of her fellows or the other humans. Questions would inevitably be asked.

There had to be a solution. He rubbed his forehead wearily. It was strange how so little a thing as the union of a spermatozoon and an ovum could produce so much trouble. He looked across the office at Copper placidly filing case cards. She wasn’t worrying. With sublime faith, she was sure that he would find the answer, the one that would solve everything. He shuddered. The only logical solution was abortion--and that was unthinkable! He would not murder his child--nor would Copper permit it if he was capable of doing so.

It was almost a relief when his phone rang and Blalok’s voice came cheerfully across the wire.

“Tried to get you about an hour ago,” the superintendent said, “but your girl said you were busy.”

“I was.”

“You through now?”

“Yes.”

“Well, get up to the fortress. Alexander just flew in and he’s calling a meeting. Something important has come up.”

Something important! A wave of ice rattled down Kennon’s spine, and then he grinned feebly. Alexander didn’t know. He couldn’t know. It had to be something else.

“I’ll be right up,” he said, marveling at the calmness in his voice.

Kennon couldn’t help comparing this meeting with the one a year ago. The location was different--the conference room in Alexandria was more formal than Blalok’s parlor but the same people were present: Alexander, Blalok, Jordan, and himself. Somehow Alexander seemed to have shrunk. He was no longer as impressive as he had been. But the man still radiated force, even though it didn’t seem quite so overpowering. The year, Kennon thought, had done much to build his self-confidence. He felt assured rather than nervous.

“Good to see you, Kennon,” Alexander said. “Reports say you’re doing a good job.”

“I can’t claim the credit,” Kennon said. “Eighty-five per cent of our success is due to co-operation from the operating staff. And that’s Blalok’s doing--he knocked the heads of the division managers together and they took care of their staffs. Otherwise we could have had a bad time.”

“But you didn’t,” Alexander said. “And you were the motive force.”

“I’ve darn near motivated myself out of a job,” Kennon said. “They co-operate all too well nowadays.”

“Which goes to prove that my theories on preventive medicine are right,” Alexander said, turning to Blalok.

“It looks that way,” Blalok admitted, “but that could be because you picked a good man.”

“He’s good in more ways than one,” Alexander said. “Or did he tell you he saved Douglas’s life out on Otpen One?”

“He’s never said a word.”

Alexander smiled. “Another point in his favor. He knows how to keep his mouth shut.”

“Not when he’s telling someone what to do about disease,” Jordon interjected.

“Or telling someone off when they haven’t followed directions,” Blaiok added.

“Better and better. I was sure that he was the one we needed when we first met.”

Kennon felt his ears turn flaming red.

“But that’s not the reason I brought you here. This isn’t a Jac Kennon admiration society. I called you because I want to expand the Lani breeding program.”

“Why?” Jordan asked.

Blalok stiffened. “You know my feeling about that, sir. I’ve never liked the idea of selling them. If that’s what’s in your mind--”

Alexander shook his head. “Simmer down,” he said, as he seated himself at the head of the table. “There’s going to be no selling. The Lani are too valuable for that. We’ll need them more than the money they’d bring on the market. You see--I’ve acquired a planet out on the periphery. A place called Phoebe. One of our ships found it, and I staked a discovery claim on the major land mass, and the crew made lesser claims that covered all the available land. Last month the Brotherhood allowed the claims. Last week the crewmen sold me their land. Phoebe’s a lovely place--quite a bit like Flora--and the ecological tests show it’s capable of supporting mammalian life. Just before I came here I sent three shiploads of exterminators to clean it up and make it ready for us. It should be ready in two years.”

“What sort of an ecology are you exterminating?” Jordan asked.

“Not that it makes any difference,” Alexander said, “but it’s mainly reptilian. Nothing over Group I. We’ll restock with Floran animals.”

Jordan sighed. “Since that’s the way it is, it doesn’t make any difference,” he said. “But it could have. The Lani are sensitive to things like that. If they thought that they were walking in over a pile of bodies they’d do badly. It’d be like Olympus all over again. And we couldn’t keep them from knowing. We talk and we forget, but they’d tell each other--and they’d remember.”

“I know,” Alexander said, “somehow they’ve never forgotten that Grandfather trapped the last of the Lani males on Olympus.”

Jordan nodded. “They can’t stand the place. That’s why we had to abandon the station.”

“Does this new world have a moon?” Kennon asked abruptly.

“Yes--in fact it has two.”

“Habitable?”

“No--they’re too small to hold air. But men could live there in domes--but why do you?--oh! I see! I hadn’t considered that point.” Alexander’s hand darted to the phone beside him. “Get me Albertsville,” he snapped. “Yes, my offices--I want Mr. Oliver in purchasing and contracting. Hello--Ward? Alexander here. Yes--everything’s fine. I have a job for you--use your scrambler-pattern two.” Alexander dialed the scrambler code on the second dial at the base of the phone, effectively preventing eavesdropping by beam tappers. “Yes,” he went on. “It’s Project Phoebe. Have you secured title to the moons? You haven’t? Well--you’d better do it before some of our competitors get bright ideas. Sure they know about the project--do you think they’re stupid? Warren over at Consolidated practically told me that he was onto our scheme. So get title to those moons. Since they’re uninhabitable and within the planet’s primary field they come under the Spatial Debris Act and you should be able to get Kardonian title without any great amount of trouble. Naturally we want them.--For defense--what else? We’ll have most of our eggs in that basket. No--I don’t know how we overlooked that point. But if it wasn’t for a bright young man out here we’d have left ourselves wide open. Now get cracking--get that leak plugged!” Alexander dropped the phone back in its cradle and sighed. “Well--that’s buttoned up,” he said. “Thanks, Kennon.”

Kennon looked at Alexander’s grinning face, his own impassive, but a shattering certainty exploded in his mind--Alexander was a telepath! That was his difference! That was the thing that made him feared and respected by his business associates. It wouldn’t have been enough on the Central Worlds, where men knew of sensitives and took precautions against them. But out here on the periphery it was a deadly advantage.

“So I gave it away,” Alexander said. “I suppose I was careless, but your thoughts about the moons shocked me.”