She had to make sense of it. “The Ewe—she came to help me, rather than her Lamb. How could that be?”

  “Remember, she bowed to you,” Brian said. “You’re important.”

  “No mother would endanger her child that way!”

  “Maybe he wasn’t in danger. You were.”

  “A two week old Lamb? Those giant wolves?”

  “The sheep are tough,” he said. “Maybe it was tough love.”

  “Tough love?”

  “Bunky’s known nothing but protection and love. You, me, Vulture, Python—we all take care of him. It’s a soft life for him. But it’s a rough planet out there. He needs to know how to defend himself. So she let him do it, the sheep’s way. When he felt those jaws closing on him, he reacted. It evoked his natural defense. Now he knows the danger, and knows how to handle it. It’s part of his necessary education.”

  “Tough love,” she said again, seeing it. “But what if he’d been killed?”

  “They’re precognitive. She knew he wouldn’t die. She did what was necessary and walked away.”

  “She did,” she agreed. “I couldn’t have had a better lesson myself.”

  “It’s what you came here for.”

  “Indeed. But it’s not playing out the way I anticipated.”

  “Things don’t,” he agreed.

  “And you—you really clobbered that wolf with your staff.”

  “It is a weapon,” he agreed. “It gives me safety and music. Half of what I need.”

  “Half?”

  “You’re the other half.”

  She was taken aback, but realized he was serious. She had set out to conquer him, and clearly had done so. “Thank you.”

  There was a bleat outside. Bunky woke, hungry. She took him out to the Ewe. She no longer needed to hold him up.

  While she waited, she addressed the Ewe. “I don’t suppose you can understand me, but thank you for looking out for me. I managed to stop one wolf, but I couldn’t have stopped another. You saved my life.” She took a breath. “But please, please, don’t put your son at risk like that again.”

  The sheep merely looked at her.

  “Reconsidering,” she said. “You do understand me, because of the telepathy. At least my emotion. I owe you, but I don’t know how I can repay you.”

  There was no visible reaction, but she felt acceptance.

  “I’m going to hug you,” she said. “It’s my way.”

  She paused, and when there was no evident negation, she put her arms around the Ewe’s shoulders and neck and squeezed. “Thank you, again.”

  She drew back. The Lamb had finished nursing. The Ewe walked away.

  “She could have stabbed you,” Brian said.

  “I know. But I knew she wouldn’t. She has to accept my ways, just as I accept hers. She knows how often I hug Bunky.”

  “I guess she does.”

  “Now we need to get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow, if we’re lucky, comes the HiLo.”

  “Lucky!” he laughed.

  “You know what I mean. The proof of Bunky’s precognition. It will be awkward if the HiLo doesn’t come.”

  “I guess so,” he agreed, amused.

  Chapter 3:

  Mission

  The following day was beautiful, with no hint of anything untoward. That made Mona nervous. Could she have misread the precognition? Yet Bunky remained sure: there was something coming in four hours.

  They went to the turnip farm, the complete group of them, after Bunky nursed. Mona’s limbs and back remained slightly stiff, but that was the least of her concerns. She didn’t want to embarrass the Petersons or discredit the Lamb’s ability, yet her doubt remained.

  “Three hours,” she told Brett Peterson.

  “Gives me time to place the last stones,” he said with no hint of irony.

  She kissed him. “You believe me.”

  “It’s a bigger risk not believing you than believing you,” he said frankly. “If its wrong, I’ve lost time and face. If it’s right, I have saved my crop and your reputation. I’ve got to go with the smaller gamble.”

  “You believe me,” she repeated.

  He nodded. “I do. The rationale is for others, just in case.”

  “I love you.”

  “You love my son. I’m just part of the family.”

  “Him, too,” she agreed with a smile. She was immensely gratified by the farmer’s support.

  They waited. There was nothing else to do. Bunky gamboled on the turf at the edge of the turnip field, getting better with his splinted leg, though it was clear that he would never be a powerful runner or jumper. The Vulture and Python stayed near, guarding him. Now Mona understood why they always remained close to the Lamb. A threat could appear at any moment, until he was old enough to see it coming in time to avoid it.

  “He would not survive without you,” Cora Peterson remarked. “It made sense for her to bring him to you. She wanted to save her child.”

  “Yes. I hope Elen agrees to keep him, after we exchange back.”

  “That may be academic.”

  “Oh?”

  “Within a year he’ll mature into a ram. That will doom him.”

  “Why?” Mona asked, alarmed.

  “The rams are not allowed to stay here. That’s the rule of the ewes, not ours. Rams are lusty creatures who don’t take no for an answer. The ewes don’t want to be bothered. So they exile them to a distant island, and go to visit them only when they are ready to breed.”

  “Then Bunky can go to the island, can’t he?”

  “No. The route is treacherously difficult, fraught with dangers. Shep told us about it when he returned from that trip. The Lamb could never make it.”

  “But then, what is he to do?” Mona asked, alarmed.

  “He’ll be exiled into the wilderness, where the wolves will kill him. If he tries to return, the ewes will kill him.”

  “That can’t be!” Mona protested. “There must be a way to save him.”

  “There is, but you won’t like it.”

  “What is it?”

  “Castration. Make him a wether, a nulled male sheep. Then he’ll never mature, and the ewes will tolerate his presence.”

  “Castration! I can’t abide that!”

  Cora gave her a straight look. “I think that’s the other reason he was given to you. Because humans know how to null animals. We do it with dogs and cats. She wants to save him for his whole life, not just his youth.”

  Mona shook her head. “There has to be some other way.”

  Cora did not argue with her. She had said her piece.

  The last stones were placed an hour before the event. The sky remained clear, the air mild. Mona’s nervousness increased. She believed, yet doubted. If the HiLo didn’t come. . .

  Bunky came to the shade of the house, where there was a pile of left-over tuff. The Vulture and Python joined him.

  “It’s time,” Mona said. “And the weather is nice.”

  Brett was back. “Heat’s rising.”

  “Well, it’s the natural heat of the day,” Mona said, determined not to be deluded by her wish.

  “No. It’s the HiLo.”

  “How can you be sure?” But then Mona paused. The temperature was rising, rapidly; she could feel the change. “Oh, my.”

  “Ye of little faith,” Brian said, smiling. But she could tell he was relieved, too.

  The air continued to heat, though it remained clear. It seemed the HiLo was similar to what on Earth was called a clear-air disturbance. Soon they were sweating. But they were also smiling: the Lamb was being vindicated.

  They went to join the animals, sitting around the tuff, which had an effect like Earthly air conditioning. Mona saw Cora pet the Python; they had known each other for many months. The influence of the sheep did strange things to human associations.

  In the course of the next two hours the temperature rose to about 130°, exactly as predicted. It hovered there as the local vegetat
ion wilted. But the turnips were all right, protected by the stones. All the tedious labor of the prior days was being justified.

  Then it changed. There was inchoate turbulence. A kind of invisible storm seemed to form. “Turnover,” Brett said. “Air’s too hot; it has to rise. The cooler upper air has to descend. But they get in each other’s way. So messy hot sheets of it slide up, and cold sheets slide down. We’ll be okay if it doesn’t get circular.”

  “Circular?” Mona asked.

  “Cyclone,” Brian said. “Tornado. We don’t want that.”

  Mona shuddered, and not from the erratic wind.

  “But the Lamb’s not concerned,” Cora pointed out. “He’s just lying there.”

  So he was. “So no tornado,” Mona said, relieved.

  “But soon we’ll need clothing for the night,” Cora said. “It will be cold.” She got up and went into the house.

  Indeed, the temperature was plummeting as the sheets of air displaced each other. It was already down to high comfortable, with plenty more to go.

  “Time to eat something, then bundle up,” Cora said, reappearing with sandwiches.

  They hastily ate as dusk approached. Then it was time to go inside. “But Bunky,” Mona said. “I can’t leave him out in the cold.”

  Cora considered briefly. “Then bring him in, bring them all in, and the tuff. It will keep the house pleasant.”

  They did that, and before long Mona and Brian were in fluffy sleeping bags on the floor beside the rocks, next to the three animals. It was all very comfortable despite the ice forming on the window panes. They slept.

  In the morning there was frost everywhere except around the turnip plants. They went out to appreciate it, as this was a rarity in summer. Even the cold-blooded Python seemed to enjoy the experience.

  But the HiLo was passing. The air warmed rapidly to normal, melting the frost. They could see that the turnips would be all right.

  “And we owe our salvation to you, Lamb Bunctious,” Brett said, patting the lamb. He was obviously well pleased, and not entirely because his crop had been saved.

  Mona was overflowing with wonder and relief. Bunky had been thoroughly vindicated, and with him, Mona’s own interpretation of his precognition.

  The fallout from the HiLo was immediate and severe. Brett Peterson had spread the word, and had not been widely credited. The other farmers knew they could have escaped the wipe-out if they had only believed. They couldn’t blame Brett, or Mona, or the Lamb. The few who had believed, had saved their crops. But hereafter, as they replanted, they would pay better attention.

  It was time to tour. Their supplies were low, and they needed to replenish them. They arranged to give recitals at several villages, which would be duly appreciated. But now the main attraction would be the Lamb.

  In fact the three animals formed a kind of petting zoo for children and adults, who had seldom if ever gotten close to any creatures of their type. The news of the Vulture and the Python had spread across the planet when Shep and Elen married, and now the Lamb was even better known. They had to warn the villagers of the occasional presence of the Ewe, who still needed to nurse Bunky. “Do not molest her,” Brian warned. “The sheep are deadly. Just ignore her, and keep your dogs away from her, and there will be no trouble.” The villagers honored that, some watching without trying to approach. They knew the Ewe was not tame. The Ewe, in turn, evidently knew she would be left alone despite her public appearances. Precognition was useful for minor conveniences as well as for major threats.

  Mona was nervous about the first show. But Brian played superlatively, melting every heart, and she hummed along with him adequately, doing light classical music, and it was well received. Then came a question from the audience: “How about ‘He Who Is Noble?’”

  Mona exchanged a look with Brian. “We don’t know that one,” Brian said.

  “But you did it before.”

  Oh. “That was Shep and Elen, before the exchange. We are Brian and Mona.”

  “Do it anyway.”

  Brian shook his head. “You’d have to teach it to us.”

  “Okay.”

  A number of the villagers knew it, from before, and happily rendered it for them. Brian caught the melody immediately, and Mona picked up the words. “He who is noble, pure and simple hearted,” she sang with Elen’s fine voice. “Needs not a weapon, needs no man to guard him. Virtue defends him.” There was applause.

  Not only did they add it to their repertoire, they added the system itself. At each village thereafter they encouraged the natives to teach them one of the “old” songs, and the villagers were thrilled to oblige. It gave them bragging rights, teaching songs to the performers. It was a highly successful circuit.

  But when they returned to the home village, the Lamb become restive. Mona put her arm about him. “What is it, Bunky?”

  Then, slowly, she received news that surprised her. She reviewed it repeatedly, getting it straight, until she had no doubt or confusion. She went to the village library to research and get relevant information. She communed with the Ewe, to be sure the sheep were cognizant. Taken as a whole, it was astonishing. “We have a new mission from the sheep,” she told Brian later. “We have to visit Earth.”

  “After our exchange tour is done, sure,” he said. “I am eager to study more classical music.”

  “No. Now. Out of turn. For a day and night. Then we’ll return to finish our tours.”

  “That’s impossible! They allow only six month exchanges.”

  “They’ll allow this one. Bunky is sure.”

  “But why?”

  “This is where it gets tricky, in more than one respect,” she said soberly. “First, its not just the two of us. It’s our companions. Vulture, Python, and Lamb.”

  His mouth fell open. “Animals exchanging? I’m not sure it’s ever been done.”

  “It’s been done experimentally, when they were establishing the viability of the system. The trick here is to obtain three equivalent animals on Earth to be hosts.”

  “Is that all?” he asked facetiously.

  “No. We’ll have to recruit Elasa and bring her back with us.”

  “Elasa,” he repeated. “On Earth I heard of an Elasa, but she was--”

  “A humanoid robot. My friend.”

  “I think I need to know more about this.”

  “Elasa was a contraction of Electronic Associates, a long-since bought-out robot company. She kept the name. She was a fembot, designed to seduce and service men, so she had to be really realistic physically but unrealistically obliging mentally. She never, ever, said no to a lustful man. She could not be told from a lovely living woman unless she exposed her mechanical innards. Later she became conscious, the only robot to do so, so far. Then she not only said no, she sued for personhood, to be recognized as a legal person.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the man who had hired her fell in love with her, and she was programmed to love him. Her onset of consciousness made that love real, and hard-wired. But she couldn’t marry him unless she was recognized as a legal person. So she sued, and there was a public hearing, and she won. I participated in that, and became her friend. I conceived her baby. Now I know she is the only person who can accomplish what the sheep need to be done. So we have to go to Earth to recruit her and bring her here, for a week.”

  “What is it the sheep need to be done?”

  “You know about the vampires?”

  “The ones that guard the ram’s island? I have heard of them. They prevent the rams from escaping.”

  “Yes. Now there are coming to be male vampires that will prevent the ewes from crossing to the island. That will prevent them from breeding, and wipe out their species.”

  Brian whistled. “They would take that seriously. They may not want the rams around full time, but they do need them for breeding.”

  “They take it seriously,” Mona agreed. “In fact they knew about it some time ago. That’s why they recr
uited me.”

  “They recruited you?”

  “By bringing Bunky to me. It wasn’t just to help him survive. It was to get me involved, as a person who could and would address their problem. And I will. But I can’t do it myself.”

  “I don’t follow. Can you or can’t you help them?”

  “I can help them by in turn recruiting the person who has the ability I lack. My friend Elasa.”

  “But you said she’s a machine!”

  “Exactly. The vampires can’t suck her blood and kill her the way they could a living woman.”

  “Maybe I’ll understand this better when I mull it over. But you said the animals must go to Earth too. Why, when all you want to do is talk to Elasa?”

  Mona smiled. “Good question. It is because Elasa’s mission must be secret. No one outside our little group must know that she’s coming here.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, but the sheep believe it, and I trust the sheep. It may be that there are parties hostile to the salvation of the sheep, that would interfere, if they knew.”

  “So how do the animals make it secret? They’re bound to make global headlines.”

  “Precisely. The media focus will be on them, while the real business goes unsuspected.”

  “That’s an awful lot of trouble to divert attention. You could attract media attention by dancing nude for the cameras.”

  “I need to have the media attention off me while the animals do their thing. That’s where you come in.”

  “Me! I spent six months on Earth. That doesn’t mean I know much about it. It’s a foreign culture. I stayed mainly on the university campus.”

  “You will lead the animals on a special mission that will rivet media attention, while I quietly talk with Elasa.”

  “This is crazy! It’ll never work.”

  “The sheep believe it will.”

  “And we trust the sheep,” he said wearily. “Even when they dabble in Earth politics, which they know nothing about.”

  “We trust the sheep,” she agreed. Then she kissed him, and shut him up.

  In the morning Mona set about the arrangements. First she sent a message, not to Elasa—that would have blown her cover!--but to Elen, who was now using Mona’s body to study higher math on Earth. It asked her to talk to Mona’s father, who would make arrangements for a brief out-of-turn exchange that included a Vulture, a Python, and a Lamb. She knew Elen might not understand, but would do it. The two of them had never met, but they were in each other’s bodies, and that was one persuasive connection.