Sentenced to Prism

  "You're forgetting something," Evan put in. "It doesn't matter what you do to us. You can't build anything more elaborate than a research station on this world because Prism qualifies as Class A."

  The woman's companion spoke for the first time. "What's that?" He looked anxiously over at Frazier. "He's lying. There's nothing in the station files about a sentient native lifeform."

  "There are several." Evan was thoroughly enjoying their discomfiture. "Apparently you didn't pay close enough attention to Martine's story. She and I were repaired by natives acting from intelligence, not instinct. They're smart, smart enough to qualify as Class A inhab­itants. You know what that means. Class A worlds are off limits for development."

  "I don't know what you're talking about." Frazier sounded bemused. "Since we've been here we've encoun­tered nothing but the expected primitive lifeforms. Nice try, Orgell, but it won't work."

  "You need proof? Who do you think did this surgery on us? Trees?"

  "Maybe. Nothing about this world surprises me."

  "If there are any `intelligent' lifeforms here, they'll just have to keep out of our way," the tall woman added. "We've got a lot invested in this. Too much to be stopped by a story. For all we know you did the repair work on each other, or it was done by your surgeons before Humula got to them. If that's the case it'll turn up in the files when we've had time to run them all. I'll believe that a lot sooner than I'll believe you were rebuilt by some native life­forms."

  "You can't hide the existence of a new world forever. When the authorities find out what you're doing here that'll be the end of your whole Board of Directors."

  "Maybe, but that might be a hundred years down the line," Frazier responded. "Our people can deal with it then. We won't have to worry about it. We'll have made and spent our fortunes by then and been laid to rest."

  "There's some terrific stuff in here." The tall woman's companion had turned back to the computer and was staring at the screen. "Nothing about them yet, though."

  "It'll turn up, you'll see," the woman said confidently. "They're trying to buy a little independence with a story too crazy to be checked."

  "What'll we do with them until then?" her companion asked.

  Frazier leaned to his left, looked around Evan as he spoke to Winona. "Put these two up in the observation tower. They can't cause any trouble from up there. Tomorrow we'll run 'em up to the Sudaria. Nodaway and his people can get to work on them and we can get back to business down here." He looked back at his prisoners. "I'd advise you not to try anything. My people are very efficient. You can be more valuable, to us alive, and it's better than being dead. You'll be well looked after. The smile that had greeted them earlier returned. "Nothing personal. This is just business."

  "Yes." The tall woman moved closer. "We're just doing our jobs, just like you were doing yours. I'm sure our own people will make you a very handsome offer to ensure your cooperation. It doesn't make any difference in this lifetime who you work for, does it?"

  Marline spat in her face. "No. But it does make a difference who I have to work with."

  The woman slowly wiped the spittle from her cheek. "Maybe I'll get lucky. Maybe you'll keep refusing to cooperate. Wait till you meet Nodaway. Humula was a child compared to him."

  Winona stepped forward, started to herd them out. Marline called back over a shoulder.

  "I won't stand for any mistreatment of the natives."

  "Natives?" Frazier looked amused. "You're really going to stick to that story, aren't you?" He looked up at the woman. "You seen any natives?"

  "No, no natives." She spoke to one of the guards. "Either of you seen any natives out there?"

  "No, ma'am. Nothing but that godawful stuff that tries to wrap itself around your leg and the little hard‑shelled things that keep crawling all over you looking for a hole in your suit. But no natives."

  "Then there's no one for us to mistreat, is there? Except you, if you persist in your stubbornness." Frazier turned to Winona. "See that they get anything they want in the way of food or drink." He looked back at Evan. "You must be ready for a regular meal after all those days out in tine wilds. Maybe you'll feel more agreeable on a full belly."

  They were marched across the station grounds. They had to climb to the platform atop the observation tow­er because power was still out to the lifts. The platform itself was deserted, its instruments sealed against dust and wind‑borne lifeforms. The current occupants of the station were not interested in scientific observation.

  Security bands were used to bind the prisoners' wrists and ankles. Evan and Martine were then made to sit against the wall. They did not look very threatening. Certainly it was a waste of manpower for three people to stand watch over two such helpless, unarmed intruders, so the guards chose among themselves to see which of their number would remain on duty.

  Winona and one of the men departed, leaving their unlucky companion to grumble at his ill fortune. After a brief glance at his two motionless charges, he let his atten­tion drift out over the glistening, fascinating alien land­scape. What he did not know, could not know, was that his seemingly silent prisoners were conversing nonstop.

  Evan nodded imperceptibly down toward the slim strap which bound his ankles together. "Self sealing carboncomposite cuff. Same thing that's on your wrists. Ten men couldn't snap one."

  "I could cut through it in a second, but I have to be able to straighten my arm in order to align the ulnar lenses properly."

  "Which reminds me: why didn't you shoot a few people when you had the chance?"

  "Too many guns around. I thought I'd wait for a better opportunity."

  "I hope we get one." He tried to peer over the low inner wall, to see into the forest beyond. "I think we'll have to ask our friends to make one."

  "I'd rather not drag the natives into human conflicts."

  "They're already involved, whether we'd like them to be or not. They became involved when this world was discovered. If we don't do something to stop Frazier and his ilk, our friends will be the worse off for it."

  Martine's tone was sardonic. "Will they? Is our com­pany so altruistic?"

  Evan resented having to admit it, but she had a point. Who was to say that their employers would deal any more fairly with Azure and his kin than Frazier's? He could simply have told her they'd worry about that later, but that wasn't Evan Orgell's style. He was constitutionally unable to leave a challenge unrefuted.

  "No, it's not. If so, they'd have reported this discovery to the proper authorities immediately. They're after exclusive development rights for at least a year, you know that. And they haven't ordered anyone murdered. I can say for certain that you and I are better people than Frazier and that woman who was in the admin room with him."

  She smiled ever so slightly. "You're sure of that?"

  "Absolutely."

  "I wish I was as positive of my own goodness as you are."

  "Take my word for it, then."

  She turned away from him to look past the daydream­ing guard. "I wish we'd been able to bring a talker with us. I don't know if anybody will pick us up at this range."

  "After the talkers the scouts are the ones with the best hearing, right? This one who's been traveling with me, Azure? He and I have become, well, close. Sensitized. If anyone picks us up it'll be him. We'll call together. And watch the left side of your face. We don't want to show any strain." He nodded in the guard's direction. "He's ignoring us because we don't look like we're doing any­thing. Let's keep it that way."

  "Supposing they do pick us up. What do we want them to do?"

  "I haven't thought that far ahead. Rut you know better than I how good they are at fixing what's broken. It might be interesting to see how they go about taking things apart."

  "You're assuming they'll take the risk of helping us."

  "I don't doubt it for a minute. I'm a member of their Associative. Friendship doesn't follow form. Ask a thranx."

  "I will. If we ever get out of her
e."

  "Ready? On three. One, two..."

  The guard continued to gaze out over the sparkling horizon. He was wondering when Frazier would give the word to leave the beautiful but dangerous place. He nei­ther heard nor sensed the explosive cry for help that burst from his bound prisoners.

  There was no misunderstanding, no fumbling for the right words. Their cry was picked up and deciphered simultaneously.

  "What's wrong?" Azure asked. Evan knew the scout's voice as well as he knew his own. "Are you all right? What's happened?"

  "The people who have come here are not our friends. They are the associates of the human who killed Martine's companions and forced her to flee. They have made us their prisoners and plan to take us away with them on their ship. They have plans in mind for you and your world," and he proceeded to detail the likely course exploitation and development would take under the heavy hand of Frazier's superiors.

  It was library who finally responded. "You have lived with us, fought with us, and helped us. You are a member of the Associative. Your friend is a member by association with you, and perhaps even more than that. We have not had time enough to explore the philosophical implications of all these recent developments but we know who our friends are. Of course we will help you."

  "You're going to have to be very careful. These people are wearing survival suits. They're not as well equipped as the one I arrived in, but they're most than sufficient for dealing with the majority of native animals. That includes you, my friends."

  "But we are not animals." Azure's reply was quietly confident.

  "It may be necessary to hurt some of them in order to protect ourselves while we are freeing you." That had to be from library‑worried about morality as always‑Evan knew.

  Martine had an answer for such concerns. "Do what you have to do. You say I am a member of your Asso­ciative by relation. These people are murderers. They kill not to defend themselves or to obtain food but for abstracts. They won't hesitate to kill any of you simply to learn how you work."

  They overheard library addressing the other members of the Associative. "It is as I thought. These humans are more advanced in knowledge than we are but their system of ethics is woefully underdeveloped."

  Neither Evan nor Martine spoke up to dispute library's assertion. If the locals wanted to believe they were mor­ally superior to their human friends, let them. It could not hurt, and there was always the possibility that library was right.

  "We will come in and free you," Azure told him.

  "It's not going to be that easy. I know what you're capable of, but you've no idea what modern weapons can do. You're familiar with the barrean's defenses? The kind that the other physicians installed in Martine? Well, these people all carry devices which are just as powerful."

  "We have dealt with the barrean." Azure tried to reas­sure his friend. "I myself have dodged their attacks on more than one occasion." There were a few barely audible comments from other members of the Associative which might have qualified as electronic snickers. Azure ignored them.

  "We will extricate you from your present situation with minimal loss of life," library said with great dignity. "Stay where you are. Give no indication that you are in contact with us or that you know what is happening."

  "Naturally. Wait a minute. Don't you want us to tell you what to do, how to proceed?"

  A faint suggestion of a mental smile. "Credit us with the intelligence you told your captors we possess. We will come for you before sunset, after we have had the time to bring ourselves to full strength. Until then we need to discuss how we are going to proceed among ourselves."

  A last, cheery "Don’t worry" came from Azure. Then the only voice in his head was Martine's.

  "We'd better try and get some rest. We want to be as alert as possible when your friends come for us."

  "I wonder if it's possible to sleep in this position." He struggled until he'd worked his way onto his side. "I doubt it."

  But he was wrong.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The changing of the guard woke him.Marline was already conscious. Evan blinked sleepily, saw that Prism's intensely bright sun was just beginning to set. Their new guard had familiar features to go with the large needier she wore in her holster.

  "Winona, right?"

  The woman smiled thinly at him. "Hello again. Give me no trouble and I'll deal you no pain. Shut up and go back to sleep. It'll be easier on all of us." She turned away from him.

  A soft voice in his head. "It is beginning."

  "What?” In his surprise he spoke aloud. Winona looked back at him and frowned.

  "Say again?”

  "Nothing," Evan said sheepishly. "Just coming out of a bad dream."

  "Better get used to them. I hear they're going to turn you two over to Nodaway."

  "They may have restored the station's defensive perimeter," Martine was telling their would‑be rescuers. "It's a powerful electric field that runs between pylons, metal posts. You'll have to find some way to avoid it. I'm sure the field is strong enough to wipe your memories if not kill you outright."

  "We know about the danger," Azure told them. "We have already bypassed it."

  "What?" Evan tried to look over the rim of the wind shield, past their guard. There was no sign that anything was amiss in the camp.

  Martine was equally confused. "If the fence is powered up and you came through it you should have set off a flock of alarms."

  "We determined not to disturb anything." Library was speaking now. "So we set several of our number to divert the energy flow around us while we walked past."

  "That's impossible," Evan said flatly.

  "You forget the conduits, my friend. They can carry other things besides water."

  Evan tried to envision his friends' approach, several conduits linked together, perhaps forming a neat arch between two charged pylons, diverting the lethal voltage harmlessly through their bodies while the other members of the Associative calmly strolled into the camp beneath this bypass. Since current continued to flow freely between pylons, there would be no interruption. No interruption meant no blaring alarms inside the station compound. It was an elegant solution.

  "You still have to watch out for guns," Martine reminded them. "A needier won't disrupt your own personal electrical fields but it will go right through you."

  Silence then for what felt like an agonizingly long time. It seemed certain to Evan that the attack had faltered. Had library changed its mind? Had they decided that their human friends were not worth the pain of deaths within the Associative?

  Then a pair of warriors clambered over the wind shield and things began to happen very quickly.

  One pounced on Winona while the other rushed to free the prisoners. Sharp rotating teeth sliced through the bands that bound Evan at ankle and wrist. He heard a moan from Winona. Thoughts of acid and other local forms of weaponry passed through his mind and he shuddered, not wishing that fate even on an enemy.

  As usual, his imagination was worse than the reality. Their guard was lying on the observation deck, her legs curled beneath her, her hands twitching slightly while the other warrior stood nearby. As it worked to free Martine, Evan's rescuer explained.

  "No acids. Library forbade it," the warrior told them in its usual clipped, terse phrases. "Been analyzing your old exoskeleton. Gatherers found the necessary ingredi­ents, processors synthesized it. Spray it on your kind of exoskeleton and it kills."

  "Kills?" Evan murmured.

  "Kills flexibility," the warrior corrected.

  Martine bent over the guard, who was still moaning reassuringly. Sure enough, a dark sticky substance now clung to the survival suit at selected points. Where the liquid had hardened, so had the suit, with the result that every joint had been frozen. Their guard could not reach for her gun, could not stand up, could not even run away. Her survival suit had been turned into a straitjacket. And no blood had been spilled.

  The warrior reached forward. Winona's moa
n changed to a whine, but the powerful claws were not reaching for her. They opened the holster and withdrew the needier. The warrior examined it with professional interest. "Doesn't look very dangerous."

  "Neither do you."

  "Hmph. Own body is better than extraneous supple­ments." Silicate claws contracted. The metal housing of the needier crumpled like foil.

  "What‑what are you going to do to me?" Winona blubbered. Her earlier bravado had vanished completely, "What did you do to my suit? Where did these monsters come from?"

  "Quiet," Evan ordered her. "And don't call them mon­sters. They're sensitive." He reached down and shut off her battery pack, eliminating power to her suit commu­nicator. "Don't worry about your suit. You've lived on Samstead too long. The only suit that matters is the one you're wearing next to your bones." He reached down again and unsnapped her hood.

  "Please‑no," she moaned.

  Pitiful, Evan thought to himself. He removed the hood, tossed it over the side of the platform as the sounds of yells and curses began to reach them. All hell was break­ing loose below.

  He joined Martine at the railing. People were running out of buildings. Some of them were only half‑dressed. Every now and then the brief crackle of a needier could be heard.

  Initial confusion slowly gave way to a semblance of organization as figures in twos and threes began to gather on the west side of the administration building. Moving in a body and firing as they did so, they began to retreat in the direction of the shuttle.

  "Your friends are cutting their visit short," Martine informed her. The guard's eyes went wide.

  "No, please, let me go with them! Don't let them leave me here!" She was staring in terror at the warrior who stood over her.

  "Why should we let you go?" Martine's reply was cold. "You deceived us and turned us over to Frazier. You'd have shot us without a thought if either of us had tried to escape earlier."

  "Please, I was just doing my job."

  "I‑fell, Martine, let her go. Besides, if Frazier and his people still have any doubts that Prism is home to a Class A population, she should be able to help resolve them."