The Caterpillar's Question by Piers Anthony and Philip José Farmer (32 page)

This ship was, Jack realized, like a giant living thing. He had seen it, or one like it, healing itself after he and Tappy had cut through its wall with the radiator. Now that he was inside it, he thought of the tubes as blood and lymph vessels, arid the tunnels as part of a vast alimentary tract, and the cables as nerves. That would make the robots and androids and living creatures serve the function of the cells of the blood, circulating to every part of the whole. This chamber must be a temporary storage place for blood, so that it could be routed where needed in a hurry. Maybe antibodies were robot warriors with blasters.

Now a screen lighted in the bubble. The human woman Malva appeared. "So it is you, Jack," she said, eying his naked torso. He moved his bundle of clothes to cover what counted. "Evidently the job of disposing of you was bungled."

"So it seems," he agreed. He had to spit out his bit of sponge so as to talk clearly. It didn't seem to matter; there was no longer hostile gas here.

"But you are now sealed into a containment capsule. You will die when your air is exhausted."

"The ship will die soon after me," Jack replied evenly.

"You are of course bluffing. This ship has taken off and is now orbiting the planet. Your friends can not help you."

Jack had not felt the takeoff, but that meant nothing; the drive was inertialess. "I suggest that you put me into direct contact with the Gaol captain immediately, so that we can negotiate the surrender of the ship before it is destroyed."

"The Gaol do not surrender their ships. Nor do they negotiate with inferior life-forms."

"Have it your way. Meanwhile, let me clarify our threat. I have released a funguslike cloud of spores which is circulating throughout the ship. The spores' first priority is to multiply, which they do rapidly, feeding on the elements of the air and the substances of the ship. They are omnivorous, with appetite for metals, plastics, and organic things. Everything except living tissue. They even feed on poisonous things. Their effect is almost imperceptible at first, but increases exponentially as their number multiplies. Their life cycle is complete in a matter of seconds; they have a very high metabolic rate. Soon you will notice an impairment of the functioning of the ship, as they festoon and clog the smaller channels. Later you will notice that their waste products are highly corrosive, dissolving all the substances on which they feed. Indeed, that is part of their mode of operation: they dissolve things in order to feed on them. The effect will accelerate, until the ship is rendered inoperable and everything in it dies."

"You and your party along with it," she said.

"Yes. So no threats will prevail against us. We are a suicide mission. Only your surrender, in time for the antidote, will save any of us. Now put me in touch with the captain, because I will not negotiate with you. You have demonstrated your lack of integrity."

Malva's picture was replaced by that of the ratcage that was the captain. "What is your offer?" the Gaol's words came, translated.

So the Gaol did negotiate, when they had to! The captain must have verified the effect of the fungus, and realized that there was not time to bring an antidote from a far system, assuming they were able to devise one. Of course he could not trust the captain any more than Malva. But he didn't need to. Orient, he thought to the Imaget. Convert.

Suddenly Jack remembered the body of the young human woman the honker gas had killed. He had never known her in life, but he knew she had been a living, feeling creature who had done what she had to do to survive. If she served the Gaol, it was because they were the available employers, not because she was a bad person. In fact, there were no bad people, only differing agendas. There were no bad living creatures. Everything deserved its chance. He felt grief for all whose chances were denied.

The Imaget had focused on the captain, channeling its full power, as Jack had told it to. It was bringing empathy to the Gaol. But that meant it could no longer serve Jack, and so the full force of his empathy for all living things had returned. He had never lost it, only had it temporarily blotted out so that he could perform ruthlessly. Just as the Gaol cyborg had performed when taking over the other ship.

However, he had to hold the captain's attention while the Imaget made enough of an impression to maintain the contact. After a while, the captain would not object to the conversion, if he was even aware of it. It hardly mattered what Jack said, as long as it kept the dialogue going. "Surrender your ship to me. Then I will arrange to have the counteragent delivered, so that the ship survives without crippling damage."

"This is not acceptable. Make another offer."

"Wait it out. Then the ship will crash, and all of us will die. But you will not have the Imago or its host, and so your mission will be lost."

"There is always an intermediary course. Make another offer."

"I don't seem to be getting through to you," Jack said. "I don't have to dicker for terms. I have the controlling hand. Your only choices are to surrender the ship or die. I will let you live if you yield." Because he had empathy even for the Gaol. He did not like the idea of hurting any living thing, but knew that he had to in order to win this encounter or many more would suffer.

"I will demonstrate the intermediary course. You will save yourself considerable distress if you issue a message for your associates, to the effect that the situation is in order and you require the antidote immediately. If you do not, you will be captured and required to do so under duress."

"Fat chance, ratcage."

"This is negation?"

"Right."

The screen faded to blank. Then fully mechanical robots appeared around the bubble, using tool appendages to sever and seal off the various tubular connections it had to other parts of the ship.

The captain had distracted him with the dialogue while he set up his attack on the bubble! Who had been fooling whom? It was ploy and counterploy, in a deadly game. But the Imaget was still oriented on the Gaol. How long would it take, telepathically? If they broke in and killed him and the Imaget, the fungus would still disable the ship. But they did not intend to kill him. They were going to torture him to make him give their message. Could he resist that?

The robots severed and sealed the last outside connection. Then they simply rolled the bubble to a larger chamber. A coating of dirt was forming on the outside, which was odd; where would there be dirt in a sealed ship like this? Now Jack saw that similar bubbles enclosed the honkers who had accompanied him. All of them had been captured.

They were going to have him out and under duress very quickly. Too quickly? Time was his ally, but how much time did he need? Did the process of conversion take longer by telepathy? How could he stall, to get enough time?

The robots used what looked like lipstick applicators to mark lines on the outside of the bubble. But when they completed a circle, a panel fell out. Jack's protection was gone.

But he refused to give them any help. When a robot reached an appendage in, he knocked it aside. It was a futile gesture, but one that had to be made.

The robot swung its appendage back toward Jack, but slowly. Now he saw that it was encrusted with furry growths. The fungus!

Jack avoided the appendage, and it was unable to catch him, even in this confined region, because the fungus interfered with its mechanism. Now he saw that the other robots were similarly overgrown. They might be able to ignore fungus on their exteriors, but it probably was growing in the joints, too, and inside. Wherever it could reach. The same thing would be happening all over the ship.

Now he realized that the dirt on the bubble was also fungus. It was on the walls and floor, too. It was doing its job of spreading. How long would it be before it interfered with the major systems of the ship, bringing it down?

Then another robot came. This one was spraying something. A fungicide! It sprayed the other robots, and they then resumed faster motion. Maybe there wasn't enough of the stuff to douse the whole ship, but that wouldn't help Jack.

Then the motion slowed again. The fungus was growing even faster; he could see it appearing as a thickening film on all the sprayed surfaces. The fungus was now feeding on the fungicide!

But Jack was not yet out of trouble. Human minions came Fungus was growing on them, too, or at least on their clothing, but they were functioning. They spoke to Jack in the highly accented English that seemed to be the class-taught second or third language here. "Come out! Or we drag you out!"

Jack was about ready to come out anyway. He climbed through the hole in the bubble. "Now what?" He noticed that there was no fungus on him, not even his inanimate portions, such as hair and nails. It seemed that the same paint that had protected him from the gas was effective against the fungus. The honkers were not about to be hoist in their own petard.

But coated or not, these human minions meant business. One brought out what looked like a set of electric probes. Jack felt a chill, that could be exactly what they were. He knew that electric shock could make a lot of pain that didn't show. He didn't know whether he could handle it.

So he made a break for it. He shoved the man with the probes against the one beside him, and charged through the gap in their circle this made. He had no idea where he was going. Just so long as it was anywhere but here.

There was a faint flash. Then he lost his volition. The honker paint did not protect against that device! But why hadn't they used it before?

Jack had stopped where he was, not losing his balance, just having no power to go anywhere on his own initiative. He stood facing away from the other men.

"Turn," a voice said from a hidden speaker

Jack turned to face the others-- and saw that all of them were turning away from him. What was going on?

"The intruding human being only will respond," the voice said.

Then Jack understood the flash had nulled the willpower of all of them. That was why they hadn't wanted to use it. It did not differentiate; it affected any human being in the vicinity, making them almost useless. He had forced them to use it, and that had been a reasonably good move.

"Walk. Follow the blue line." A line appeared before him.

Jack walked. The line wound a devious course through the ship. Soon Jack was lost, he would never be able to find his way out on his own, even with the good chart of the ship the honkers had provided. Not that he was likely to be given the chance. There was a lot of walking, in a mile-diameter ship! But if he did get his will back, then he could follow the line back to his starting point.

Was there any way to break the hold of the null-volition? Before, Tappy had been immune, because of the Imaget egg, and then she had gotten him free of it by writing Malva's name as a Gaol symbol on a piece of paper and having him eat it. He still wasn't sure how that worked. But he couldn't do that now. No pencil. No paper. No Tappy.

But wait! Tappy had been free because of the Imaget egg she earned. Surely the Imaget itself had the same power? So why wasn't he free?

Because the Imaget was otherwise occupied at the moment. But when it finished that job, it would revert its attention to Jack, and then he should be free. Probably he could get its attention with a strong thought, if he had to. So he had a secret weapon. Maybe.

Meanwhile, he followed the blue line. At one point it spiraled up a curving ramp, and he happened to see behind him. The line had disappeared. It faded out as he moved along it, being clear only ahead. So much for following it back! However, he also saw his footprints in the furry gray coating of fungus on the floor. Maybe he could follow them instead, if they didn't disappear too rapidly under new growth.

Finally he reached a region he judged to be somewhere in the center of the ship. There was a huge bubble, opaque because of its coating, with an enormous number of connections. It was as if this were the central cell of a living entity, to which all others reported.

And of course it was, he realized. This was the abode of the Gaol captain' He was about to face his reckoning.

"Wipe a section clear," a loudspeaker said.

Jack realized that he was still carrying his bundled clothing. He used this to rub on the available surface of the sphere. It was like scraping snow off a windshield. Now a window of clarity appeared.

Inside the bubble was the Gaol captain. For the first time Jack saw such a creature with his own eyes, from up close, instead of by telepathic projection through other eyes.

The thing was horrible. All the details were as he had been shown before, but now they were in sharp ugly focus. The great external rib cage, as if it had once been fleshed but now was a carcass. The sacful of body organs, as if the guts had been wrapped in membrane and hung inside the stripped rib cage to cure. The legs and neck projecting from the general region of that internal mass, emerging from the cage. What a monster!

Yet perhaps it was in keeping with the spaceship the Gaol used. For this huge ship had riblike projections reaching up to join at the top. It was surely the kind of structure the Gaol would feel comfortable with, because of their own skeletal structure. Just as human beings felt comfortable with devices that had their controls at the top and their propulsion at the bottom, emulating the human head and feet. Maybe the nature of the originating species could be derived by inspecting their spaceships, if one knew how to interpret the signals.

"I did not know that the Imago could strike at this range," the speaker said. It was obviously translating for the Gaol inside the sphere.

Jack did not reply, because he had not been directed to. But he felt a thrill of excitement. Had the Gaol been converted?

"What is the mechanism?"

Now Jack could speak. But he did not have to speak, because the null effect did not extend to his mind. Would he be better off to refuse to, so that the Gaol would not learn what was going on? The null did not allow him to lie; he had either to tell the truth or say nothing.