“They’ll be along in an hour or so. I’ve been working for you now for three years, my lord. Besides being my boss, you’ve been my teacher and my mentor. And if I may be permitted the honor, you have also been my friend.”
“Well, I like you, too, Dirk. I think next to Heiny and the girls, you’re the only friend I’ve got. But what are you trying to say?”
“My lord—we have made another error.”
“So that’s troubling you? Look, Dirk. When you send out a lot of soldiers, you know that some things are going to go wrong. But the good your brothers have done is so much greater than the bad, that you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“But it’s—”
“Look, Dirk. You got to understand that you’re really a bunch of kids. All of you. Your brothers, the telephone, the fauns, the TRACs. None of you are over four years old! Nobody expects perfection out of children. Making mistakes is part of growing up. If you’re still doing big things wrong when you’re twenty, you should worry about it then. But for now, be lenient with yourself a little bit, or you’re going to rot your guts out.”
“I don’t have any guts, my lord. Merely an absorption cavity. But the point is—”
“Dirk, your brothers are doing a fine job. Now I don’t want to hear any more about this.”
“It isn’t that, my lord. This concerns your own family, Patricia and Liebchen.”
“What!” Guibedo lumbered to his feet.
“They are unharmed, my lord. But a situation has occurred which requires your advice and consent to resolve. I felt that, as your friend, I should be the one to explain it to you. Perhaps, if you would sit down, I should tell it all from the beginning.”
“Just so you get it all out.” Guibedo sat down heavily.
“Four months ago, my lord, you recall there was an unpleasant incident on Lady Patricia’s first night here.”
“I try to forget it.”
“Then you recall that you desired my Lady Patricia for purposes of friendship and mating…”
“That’s maybe a crude way to say it.”
“Sorry, my lord. The choice of words is difficult.”
“Just get on with it.”
“Yes, my lord. But she at first rejected you.”
“Well, I was pretty drunk and smelly. Anyway, a girl needs time to make up her mind.”
“There was more to it than that, my lord. It seems that with some human females, certain physical characteristics are required of a male to elicit a proper sexual response. Common among these characteristics are height, slenderness, and youth.”
“So you’re saying that I’m too old and fat and ugly to get a girl?”
“And short, my lord.” Dirk was trying to be precise.
“And short, damn it! Look. A lot of people don’t care what somebody looks like on the outside. And the fact that I’ve got one hell of a pretty girl proves it!”
“You’re right, of course, in many instances, my lord. But in this particular case, well, what my Lady Patricia thinks you look like is at considerable variance with your actual physical appearance.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“The morning after that night, my lord, Liebchen saw that Lady Patricia’s programming was causing both herself and you considerable pain. Therefore, in order to ensure the happiness of all concerned, Liebchen modified Lady Patricia’s perceptions and programming, to make her eager to stay here with you.”
‘“What? So how could Liebchen do such a thing? Liebchen controls trees, not people.”
“Liebchen can control a synthesizer, my lord. She doesn’t do it rationally, but intuitively. She has no real concept of the chemical compounds produced, but she can sense whether they are the right thing or not. In any event, Liebchen caused a substance to be produced that reduced Lady Patricia’s need-achievement index by thirty points, increased her need-affiliation by a similar amount, and modified her perceptions relative to your physical appearance.”
“Ach.” Guibedo was beginning to believe what Dirk was telling him. Little pieces were starting to fall together: the ridiculously small sweater she had knitted him for his birthday, the time she had tried to sit down beside him in a canoe. “So what does my Patty think I look like?”
“Six one, my lord, one hundred eighty-four pounds. Black hair graying at the temples. The physical build of an Olympic swimmer.”
“Son of a gun,
“No, my lord. We were hesitant to take any action without consulting you.”
“We?”
“Lady Mona deduced the truth on the trip, my lord.”
“And how long have you known about this, Dirk?”
“Since the modification occurred, my lord. Four months.”
“And you didn’t tell me about it?”
“My reasoning was the same as Liebchen’s, my lord. It seemed to increase the happiness of all concerned. It was only when I observed Lady Mona’s extreme emotional reaction to this form of chemical programming that I felt that it might be an error. After all, Lord Copernick has reprogrammed, by different means, most of the intruders that we have apprehended.”
“That was self-defense! When somebody is trying to kill you, you’ve either got to kill him back or do something that makes him not want to kill you any more. But to brainwash a pretty young girl just because a fat old man is horny! That’s terrible, Dirk.”
“I see my error, my lord. What course of action do you recommend?”
“That’s obvious, isn’t it? We try to put Patty back the way she was when she first got here. Tell me when Liebchen gets here.”
“Liebchen arrived with me, my lord. She has been waiting in the living room for your decision.”
“And worrying herself sick, huh?”
“Literally, my lord.”
Chikuto was the closest thing the LDUs had to an explosives expert. He had carefully read all of the manuals available on the subject, but he had absolutely no practical experience with them. Aside from fireworks, no one in Life Valley had any need or use for explosives, let alone a desire to actually
Nonetheless, when General Hastings entered the valley with a half pound of plastic explosives taped to his right ankle, Chikuto was judged to be the one most competent to disarm the bomb.
It was two o’clock in the morning.
Screened by two dozen of his brothers, who had cleared the area of bystanders, Chikuto crept up to the park bench that served as Hastings’ bed. Flat on his back, Hastings snored loudly.
Hastings’ left ankle was resting on top of his right, and, working in almost complete darkness, Chikuto gently lifted it off the bomb. Hastings snorted but remained asleep.
Working carefully by touch, Chikuto removed the blasting cap and scooped the old, hot, and sticky C-4 out of its package. Since the manuals had said that plastique resembled gray modeling clay, he had brought a half pound of clay with him. His fingers were thick with C-4 as he gently pushed the kneaded clay into the package.
All told, between the C-4 reintroduced into the package from Chikuto’s fingers and that which had remained stuck to the package, the “disarmed” bomb contained more than an ounce of plastique.
Chikuto’s last mistake was to replace the blasting cap. He hadn’t the slightest concept of what the cap alone could do.
Liebchen sat tiny in the huge living room, biting her lip, tears dropping from her chin, shivering as with fever. They’d throw her out, of course. They wouldn’t let anyone as wicked and evil as she was raise human children or even her own babies. They’d make her work in a restaurant and there’d be a lot of people, but none of them would love her. Even her sisters and Lady Mona wouldn’t want to see her again. Maybe they’d make her
