The details. Such as making a persuasive case to the Earth authorities who did not want to hear it. But Moncho was surely correct. The sheep had in effect given the order; now they had to carry it out.
They reviewed their experience with the sheep without finding anything relevant. Then Shep got a notion. “Those dreams we had. They were of Earth.”
“They were wild fantasies,” Elen said.
“What was the context?” Moncho asked.
“We slept, and dreamed,” Shep said. “When we woke we discovered that the sheep had come to sleep near us. Then they moved away again.”
“That may be it. If they are telepathic, it is surely more effective at close range.”
“But the dreams were of Earth,” Elen protested. “The sheep know nothing of Earth.”
“Telepathy, again,” Moncho said. “They projected a thought into your minds, and you translated it into the dreams of Earth.”
“The precognition!” Elasa said. “They gave you telepathic precognition!”
Moncho shook his head. “That’s so far-fetched it just may be the truth. We don’t know the limits of the powers of the sheep. If they gave you precognition, your minds would have shaped it into familiar substance. Exactly what were these dreams?”
“Mine was of a volcano erupting in the Everglades,” Shep said.
“Mine was of the discovery of an air-breathing cave squid,” Elen said.
“Ludicrous,” Moncho said. “But sometimes the unbelievable is true. Was there anything else?”
“A date,” Shep said. “The same for each one.” And paused, surprised. “That date is close to now!”
“Verification,” Moncho said. “Your precognitive visions can be disproved simply by waiting on the date.”
“That’s bad,” Shep said.
“No, that’s perfect. We will publicize your predictions. If they are disproved, we have lost nothing we won’t lose anyway by doing nothing. If they are proved, we win. It’s so simple even a sheep could see it.”
They looked at him. “You’re taking it seriously?” Shep asked.
“Yes. This is a phenomenally important case. Verifiable precognition would be the discovery of the century. If the sheep are as you say, they must be protected so they can be studied. So we will shoot for the moon, or in this case, the planet. The two of you are about to go dramatically globally public.”
“I have seen that happen,” Elasa said.
“Yes you have, metal maiden.” Moncho on focused Shep and Elen. “Now we have work to do. I will pull a few strings and get you a spot to testify before the key congressional committee the day before the prophecies are due. You will rehearse your stories, not to falsify them but to make them as clear and effective as is feasible.” He rubbed his hands together. “We are going to make global headlines.”
“Again,” Elasa said.
Moncho eyed her. “You have a problem with that, boltbucket?”
“None at all, meatman.”
Shep squeezed Elen’s hand. These two were fun!
They left Moncho’s temporary office and went to see about semester courses. Shep had to do a detailed report on his exchange experience, and Elen had to sign up for the advanced math classes she so desired. They also made sure they were registered as man and wife here on Earth. They were, as far as they knew, the first interplanetary couple, and the law was vague on their exact status. As long as neither Earth family, his and Mona’s, challenged it, they were okay.
Elasa arranged to audit the same classes Elen took, so the two could keep company most of the time. Shep understood the reasons, but apart from that he found it increasingly convenient. Elasa was conversant with all manner of feminine concerns that Shep knew little about, and was fine support for the visitor. Elen also got to hold Bela more often, and she did learn how to change his diaper. She reveled in the experience, anticipating her own baby on Colony Jones. Meanwhile she absolutely adored the math classes, and there were indications that she was a top student. She did have the mind for it. It was clear that the two women were rapidly becoming close friends, perhaps in part because one was a consciousness in a machine, the other a consciousness in a foreign body; they had unique aspects in common.
Then they were due for the Congressional Committee Hearing. The Committee, as Moncho explained, was something of an ad hoc group consisting of some congressmen, some senators, and some representatives for those other nations involved in the interplanetary colonization initiative. All were deeply in hock to the special moneyed interests who were their true masters, whatever other impression they might try to make for the voters. But however makeshift it might seem, their word was quietly law.
“Understand,” Moncho briefed them in advance. “This is a charade. They will listen to you, seem to be interested, perhaps promise further consideration, but you might as well be singing in the toilet for all the legal effect your words will have. Except for the publicity. You will be a global laughing stock for one day. Then, if the sheep’s prophecy is true, everything will change.”
“And if it isn’t true,” Shep said glumly, “the sheep are dead.”
“It is their scene to make,” Moncho agreed. “Meanwhile we must do our part to attract an audience.” He glanced at Elen. “You, my dear, must wear a supposedly accidentally revealing outfit that will make the male eye linger, and therefore the cameras. Elasa will help you select it from my daughter’s closet. You must smile whenever Shep catches your eye.”
“I will do that,” Elen agreed, catching his eye and smiling.
Shep and Elen made desperate love the night before the hearing, fearing the worst. They believed in the sheep, but these prophecies were so far out that even the two of them could not really believe them. A squid unknown to science? A volcano in the swamp of Florida? Shep was no biologist or geologist, but he knew that these things were so unlikely as to be virtually impossible. Yet what else did they have?
Then they were at the hearing. Moncho and Elasa sat behind them, silent support, with Bela asleep in Elasa’s arms, but they would not be participating unless a Committee member addressed one of them specifically. Video cameras were recording the proceedings. Probably not too many people were tuning in, but the news was readily available for those interested.
There were several other routine matters. Then it was their turn. “Our next witnesses represent Colony Planet Jones,” the Committee chairman said. “The exchange student Amber Shepherd, who has returned from a semester there, and his wife Elen Elf, now in exchange from there, taking math courses here. They wish to make their case for the protection of the Colony sheep. That is, against the pending legislation promoting the reclassification of that planet as a tourist hunting enclave.”
The other Committee members had been casually indifferent to the prior business, but they abruptly focused. They would not let that legislation get sidetracked. The hostility did not show on their faces, but it was as though the oxygen in the room had been depleted.
“Mr. Shepherd,” the chairman said, “Please state your case. You will have five minutes before we question your details.”
Shep was ready. “When I exchanged to Colony Planet Jones, I was approached by a native sheep,” he said. “It seemed that the sheep had a difficult journey to make, and they wanted me to shepherd them, though I know nothing about sheep. But it seems that the sheep can be dangerous, and it was best to honor their preference. So I became their shepherd, along with other creatures they recruited: a vulture, a python, and an elf girl.” He paused briefly. “I should clarify that the elves are of human stock, merely a bit smaller than normal people. The two races can interbreed. Indeed, I married her, and she will bear my baby on Jones. She is with me here, in transfer.” He indicated Elen, who smiled fetchingly. “The sheep evidently knew what they were doing, because each member of the party had a key role to play, somewhere along the way. But what concerns me is the prophetical vision the sheep gave me. It is this: tomorrow a volcano will erupt in th
e Everglades.”
There was a burst of laughter. Shep waited for it to fade, then continued. “This is why the sheep need to be protected, not hunted: true precognition would be invaluable, and we need to study them to ascertain how they do it. They must not be hunted.”
The cameras had feedback indicators showing the size of the video audience. Suddenly it was rapidly growing. Something newsworthy was occurring.
“Moncho Maverick,” the chairman said. “I recognize you; you have been in the news often enough. Is this one of your publicity stunts?”
“Of course,” Moncho agreed.
The chairman glanced at the camera indicator. He liked publicity as well as anyone did. Then he glanced at Elasa. “And is the woman beside you the android?”
“The bucket of bolts,” Elasa agreed. She took off one hand and waved it at the invisible audience. Then she put it back on and bared a breast for Bela to drink from. “I am here to support my friend Elen.”
The audience was expanding exponentially. Much of the world remembered the metal maiden. Much of it also appreciated the view of a bare breast, however legitimate.
“Then perhaps it is time for her to talk,” the chairman said. “Elen Elf, enlighten us about the sheep.”
“Gladly,” Elen said, learning earnestly forward, so that more of Mona’s fine cleavage showed for the cameras. “I, too, had a vision, a prophecy. It is this: tomorrow an air-breathing cave squid will be discovered.”
There was another burst of laughter. The committee members were enjoying this for more than one reason.
“A vision sent by the sheep,” the chairman said, hardly concealing his scorn.
“I think so. I know too little of Earth to be able to generate such a vision.” Elen inhaled, and the audience grew at an even faster rate. This show had everything.
“To make the news tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
The chairman evidently decided that the joke had gone on far enough. “Thank you for your time, Mr. and Mrs Shepherd. I believe we had heard sufficient testimony. We will take this matter under advisement.”
They had been dismissed. They got up and departed along with Moncho and Elasa. “Excellent,” Moncho murmured.
“Until tomorrow,” Shep said. “When it either explodes or falls apart.”
The moment they left the building, the newsies descended on them. News cameras peered into Elen’s decolletage as questions came at them.
“Allow me,” Moncho said. “My client is unfamiliar with the mannerisms of Earth. Elen, I believe these nice folk would like to hear more of your life on Colony Planet Jones.”
Elen talked, breathing rapidly, and the cameras tracked her every word and breath. She described the planet and its fauna, especially the precognitive sheep. The tabloids would soon be overflowing.
At last Moncho and Elasa departed, and Shep and Elen made it back to Shep’s home, where they collapsed into easy chairs. “That was fun!” Elen said.
“You made quite an impression,” Sherman Shepherd said.
“Perhaps you are not accustomed to a body like your host’s,” Zandra said delicately.
“Mine is less pronounced,” Elen agreed, as if still innocent of her public exposure.
But beneath the excitement was the chilling fear that the morrow would expose them as charlatans. Shep wondered whether it was really worth it.
They slept embraced. The difference in their bodies no longer seemed to matter. What counted was their mission and their love.
The day came. Each passing hour made them more nervous.
The news media didn’t help. “Too bad Moncho Maverick, once a highly respected high-power lawyer, has chosen to throw away his credibility on this fantasy. He must be feeling pretty sheepish now.” “Brace yourselves; this is a ba-a-a-ad day. The everglades are going to erupt. We have this on the ultimate authority: Colony sheep.” “And that sexy exchange student, Elen with the missing L, is going for her sheepskin in math. Maybe she is calculating on something we aren’t.”
This was cruel. Shep turned it off; he could see that Elen was hurting. She had spoken so feelingly of the sheep, only to be ridiculed.
“Trust the sheep,” she said bravely.
“I do. But I fear their range may not extend to another planet.”
Elasa came over with her baby to lend moral support. “I know the media can be savagely cruel. But they can also help significantly. There was one cartoonist who truly made my case, when I thought my suit for personhood was lost. I’m glad that he has not participated in the bloodletting.”
“Thank you,” Elen said, hugging her around the baby. Shep could see that the two were now solid friends, as Elasa and Mona had been.
They tried the news again, unable to stay away lest they miss the key announcement. It remained awful, with actors dressed like sheep and subtitles. “How did the Shepherd propose to his lady love? ‘I love ewe, lambie-pie. Please let me ram my crook into your fold.’”
“The background music is Sheep May Safely Graze,” Elasa said.
Then there was a picture from the archives of Elasa and Mona, both standing nude, with new dialogue attached: “In real life I’m really a machine.” “That’s nothing. I’m really a pregnant ewe.”
Shep turned it off again.
Then, about mid morning, it came. “Turn on the news!” Zandra called excitedly. Shep hurried to comply.
“Scientist have discovered a new species of freshwater squid,” the newscaster said. “It is small, but is remarkable in that it is able to breathe air.” He took a breath. “It seems the skeptics are being confounded. A prophecy is coming true.”
Shep and Elen found themselves in each other’s arms. It was happening!
Moncho called. “Get over to my office,” he said. “We are in sudden demand by the Committee.” He chuckled. “They are concluding that there is more money to be made in prophecy than in hunting sheep.”
By the time they got there, meeting Elasa on the way, the second prophecy came true: a small volcanic vent opened in the Everglades. It was not impressive as such things went, except for its location, and the fact that it had been predicted by the sheep. Scientists were astonished; they had never known of this geological aspect. News-folk were ruefully apologetic. They had laughed all morning, and now had to eat their words. One was even eating a cake in the shape of a laughing sheep.
“There’s my cartoonist,” Elasa said. In the foreground was a stand-up comedian in tropical clothes beside a palm tree. “This Vulture, a Python, and a lovely nude Elf girl walk into a bar. . .” In the background was an erupting volcano, about to blast him away.
“I like your cartoonist,” Elen said, laughing.
The sheep had proven themselves, and would be saved. Shep did not care to admit how surprised and gratified he was. Officially, he had always known.
By the end of the day, not only had the Committee declared Planet Jones to be a protected refuge, banned for hunting, it had appointed Shep as administrator of that protectorate; colony governance was after all his major. He would approve or disapprove all scientific investigations. He knew he should be able to handle any legal complications, with Moncho’s advice. This also meant that he now had the rank to guarantee Elen’s continued visits to Earth, so she could remain with him and complete her math major. He knew that his new position would be a considerable challenge, but he also knew that the sheep would help him handle it.
Meanwhile Shep and Elen had become instant celebrities. But all they really cared about was the fact that the sheep had proven themselves. In the process, they had given the two of them love and an illustrious future life together.
It paid to trust the sheep.
Part 3: Fly Trap
Chapter 1:
Exchange
Mona sat on the chair, holding Elasa’s baby son Bela on her lap. The tech counted down from ten. Would this really work?
To quell her nervousness, she quickly reviewed where she was going, what she
was doing, and whom she would meet. Her father was a high-power lawyer and she hoped to follow in his footsteps and seemed to have the talent for it. But she also wanted to be an ordinary anonymous housewife with children and a placid life. The two had seemed to be mutually incompatible, until she had learned of the student exchange program between Earth and its colony planet Jones. Travel between them by spaceship took six months, but by switching host bodies the exchange could be instant. She had volunteered to host a young woman who came to Earth to study higher math. Mona would in turn occupy the woman’s body on the colony, and study the sheep there, though she knew virtually nothing about sheep. Because the sheep were said to be precognitive and somewhat telepathic; it was uncertain whether these were two powers or one merged power, or whether it was mere legend. But many of the natives believed in it, and if such a thing could be confirmed it just might be the breakthrough of the century. Imagine a lawyer who could read minds or see the future!
But there were constraints. The colony planet was primitive, the sheep were said to be wild and dangerous, no person’s pets, and the colony host’s body was five months pregnant. That was why the position had been open; few women wanted to take over some other woman’s body for six months, birth her baby, then return to Earth alone. Yet in its fashion this appealed to both Mona’s desires: cutting edge legal exploration and simple homemaking.
So here she was, about to occupy an alien host and meet the related colony family, said to be turnip farmers who had not been enamored of the way their son’s body had been used by the Earth man to associate with a local girl and make her pregnant. That was understandable, but now Mona would be the one to have to handle the emotional fallout. They would be superficially polite, of course, but the undercurrent would be corrosive. Yet she would be dependent on their largess, at least in the beginning.
Well, she had been in difficult situations before. She would handle this. She hoped.
Then the room changed. So did her body. She was now significantly smaller, all around, with one exception: her belly was five months pregnant. It was as if the baby she held on her lap had jumped inside her. “Oh!” she exclaimed, surprised despite her knowledge that this would be the case.