The Caterpillar's Question by Piers Anthony and Philip José Farmer (22 page)

Jack came to a sudden, terrible decision. "Then I'll do it!" He turned toward Tappy, hoping that he could bring himself to kill her bare-handed. One smash of her head against the floor could do it. Then they could do what they liked to him; he didn't matter. He saw that she now lay unceremoniously on the floor, between the plants, her book beside her. He took a step.

But Candy moved more swiftly than he thought possible, and intercepted him. Suddenly he had an armful of phenomenal woman who was nevertheless not a woman at all. She closed her arms around him and lifted him from the floor. He felt her awesome power and knew that he was helpless. She might look like a siren, but she was also as deadly as one.

"All right!" he gasped. "Put me down. I'm helpless."

She set him down.

"So what happens now?" he asked. He doubted that he would be able to distract her or change the course of the conquering Gaol, but he was casting about for anything that might conceivably make a difference.

"Now we wait for the arrival of the minion of the Gaol."

"Oh, you mean Malva," he said jokingly, remembering the woman who had tempted and threatened him, back on the honkers' planet. "Yes. She is the human interface for the Gaol."

No luck there. He looked around. "What's happened here? Did the vision change?"

"The effect of the plants has been nullified by the Gaol. This is reality."

Reality is a dream. Jack remembered that statement of the sleep-talking Tappy. Suddenly it had new meaning. Could this be just another dream, a product of his own worry? So that the Gaol had not captured them? In that case, all he had to do was change it.

He heard a small noise. It was just a kind of plop.

He turned to Tappy-- and stopped. Because now he saw that the egg-thing on her chest had completed its hatching. There was just a purple wound with yellowish froth. Something green was sliding, rolling, or scrambling away from her: the hatchling.

Candy dived for it. But the thing scooted around one of the plants, just eluding her grasp. She tried to pursue it, but it was lost.

"What is it?" Jack asked.

"We do not know. But the artifacts of the honkers can have devious effects. It is better to destroy it immediately."

"Too late for that," Jack said, privately satisfied. "You'd have to destroy the whole greenhouse to get it now."

She did not reply. Instead she went to Tappy. "We shall cleanse and cover this injury," she said. "It will not prevent the host of the Imago from surviving."

And the Gaol did want that host to survive so that the Imago could not escape to occupy some other, unknown, host.

But here he was, taking this vision literally again. He needed to change it to something more acceptable. To a dream in which the Gaol were far away and the AI still served the Imago. He concentrated.

Nothing changed. But perhaps it would change when he slept, as it had before. Except that this last change had happened while he was awake and alert. Just as it would if reality were taking over. Damn!

Then he realized that it didn't matter. If this were merely another dream, then the Gaol were not here anyway. There was no point in scaring himself. He could believe anything he wanted, good or bad, but Tappy would remain safe. And maybe the Imago would wake.

Maybe all it needed was to be evoked. To be called up. "Imago!" he said. "I charge you, wake! We have dire need of you."

Nothing happened. Candy was treating and bandaging Tappy, ignoring him. She evidently took this dream seriously.

Suppose this was reality? If he gambled that it wasn't, and did nothing, Tappy was doomed. He had to assume that it was, and search for any possible way to save her. If he succeeded, and it was real, then Tappy won; if he failed, and it was a dream, Tappy won. Only if he failed in reality did Tappy lose, even if he seemed to be succeeding in a dream.

So this was reality. It was the only safe assumption, despite the seemingly hopeless situation.

Jack squatted and touched Tappy's hand. "Imago! Wake!"

There was still no response. Whatever it took to wake the Imago, this wasn't it.

Unless its consciousness was linked to Tappy's. "Tappy, wake!" he cried, squeezing her hand.

Her eyes opened. She smiled. "Oh, Jack, I see you!"

He felt an electric thrill. She saw him! She was talking to him! Their ploy had worked! She sat up, and she looked at Candy. "And who is this woman?"

"You have a-- an injury," Jack said, still elated over this success, though her questions were awkward. "This is an AI android. She is treating you."

Tappy looked down. "Oh, it stings!"

"Here is the bandage," Candy said. "Let me apply it."

Tappy lay back again, allowing the treatment to proceed. "This won't interfere with our lovemaking, will it. Jack?"

The implanted memories! She remembered five years of sexual activity with him. What was he to say to that?

"The injury won't interfere," he said carefully. "But there is something else that will. Tappy, the Gaol have caught us, and only the Imago can get us free. Can you-- is it-- did it wake with you?"

She hesitated, as if exploring her inner being. "No. There is nothing."

Tappy had been fooled, but not the Imago! It was a Pyrrhic victory. How much better it would have been if it had been the Imago instead of Tappy who had gained the ability to see and speak!

"It hardly matters," a new voice said. "We have gained control."

Jack turned, startled. There was Malva, the human minion of the Gaol they had encountered on the honkers' planet. The woman they had tricked, because she had not known about the honker's egg and its effect.

Jack saw nothing to be gained by politeness. "You wouldn't have control, you quisling, if the Imago had matured in time."

"We are assuming that the Imago has matured," Malva said. "Didn't the androids tell you its nature?"

"No." Surely the AI knew, but somehow in the rush of other things he had never thought to ask them directly, so of course they had not told him.

"It is a creature of extreme empathy. Any living entity with whom it associates closely becomes similarly empathic, and transfers this quality in turn to others, though the effect diminishes with each transfer. In due course it damps out, but the presence of the Imago continually renews it. If it lives free, the Imago will in due course conquer the galaxy. This is of course why the Gaol oppose it."

"Empathy?" Jack was bewildered. "How can that hurt the Gaol?"

"It does not hurt any creatures, directly. It merely changes them. Empire becomes impossible."

Candy continued to work on Tappy, who was listening; evidently she had not known this either.

"I must be really dense," Jack said. "As I understand empathy, it is merely a matter of identifying so closely with something else that you seem to fee! its nature yourself. You seem to project your personality into it. You feel its feelings as your own. That's nice for understanding, but not much for blowing up enemy spaceships."

Malva smiled. "You are indeed somewhat obtuse about this, but this can be attributed to your primitive background. Do you mistreat, oppress, or exploit a person or creature for whom you feel empathy? Tappy, for example?"

"No, of course not!" Then Jack began to understand. "You mean the Imago causes others to feel empathy for it? So they won't hurt it?"

"No one can hurt the Imago, because it has no tangible essence. It is eternal and invulnerable. However, it is true that others soon lose their inclination to mistreat whatever host the Imago occupies. But this is only part of it; they develop general empathy for all living things, and that changes their lives."

"And it affects the Gaol, too!" Jack exclaimed. "So they don't feel like exploiting other species!"

"Precisely. Therefore the Gaol take steps to prevent exposure of any other creatures to the Imago. It will be isolated for the lifetime of its current host." "But I'm with the Imago!" Jack said. "And Candy, and you. We've all been exposed."

"You have been exposed, true. The android is of course immune, being without living tissue. That is why the Agents of the Imago are able to kill its host, if left to their own initiative. They serve the Imago in part by being unaffected by it. I have not been exposed."

"Sure you have! You're standing right here. Unless its range is pretty limited-- and from what you say, it isn't. You probably have to be a mile away to be clear of it. And you aren't."

"Gaol policy is to allow no other creatures within the stellar system of the host of the Imago, though probably a light-hour's distance is sufficient. I am five light-hours distant."

"Like fun you are!" Jack strode toward her. "She did not move. She merely watched him with a condescending smile. He reached her and grabbed her arm-- and his hand passed through it without resistance.

Amazed, he grabbed for her with both arms, finding nothing but air. She simply wasn't there.

"You are addressing my hologram," Malva said after a moment. At the moment her face was right next to his, and his arms were lost in the image of her body. Her voice seemed to come from her mouth. "Your culture is too backward to be familiar with such things. It is a projection in three dimensions, with sound. It is a convenience of communication when direct personal contact is not desired, as in this case."

Jack had to accept the fact that she was not where she seemed to be. He swept one hand through her apparent midsection, one finger extended in a final gesture of contempt and backed off. "But the light-speed limit-- how can you be five light-hours away?"

"To primitives, the speed of light is an absolute limitation. The Gaol are not primitive. Thus when the AI city traveled fifty thousand light-years instantly, the Gaol's pursuit was limited by the speed of the search pattern, not the speed of light. Our present dialogue is similarly unlimited."

Jack realized that she had no reason to lie to him. But still he hoped for some way out. Could he provoke her into providing it? "Why are you wasting time talking to me?" he demanded. "If you have such power over us, why don't you just put me out the airlock and seal up Tappy?"

"No!" Tappy exclaimed. Candy had finished bandaging her, and now she walked across to join him.

"We have no intention of mistreating you in any way, Jack," Malva said. "It is true that we shall confine the host of the Imago, but you will be allowed to remain near her for your lifetime. We shall if you wish conform the android to Tappy's likeness so that you will have suitable company, and you will have all your material and intellectual needs met."

"But you're going to put Tappy in a coffin!"

"This is necessary, yes. The Imago must not be allowed the freedom of even the ship. But you are harmless."

"If a ship will confine me, why won't it confine her? If it has to be, why not confine us together?"

"Because in past millennia the Imago has proved to be remarkably adept at escaping confinement," Malva replied. "We have not ascertained exactly how it manages it, but have verified that complete immobility of the host in isolation is sufficient to confine it for the duration."

"Well, I'm not going to cooperate in the incarceration of Tappy! I'll tear apart your ship, piece by piece, until I free her."

Malva shrugged. "I think not."

Suddenly there were bars in front of him. Jack turned, and discovered that he was caged. The chamber had been halved by a palisade of bars from ceiling to floor. He was walled off from Malva's image and from Tappy and Candy.

He grabbed the nearest bar-- and received a formidable shock. They were electrified!

But he still had his voice. "Don't let them put you in their coffin, Tappy!" he cried. Tappy looked at him. "I will try to resist. They don't want to hurt me, because that might shorten my life span. But the android is very strong."

Jack had discovered that. "Maybe that's the key! Tell them you'll hurt yourself if they try to put you away. You can do that, before--"

"Tappy," Malva said, "if you resist, we will torture and kill Jack."

Tappy looked at Jack. Then she spread her hands. "I will not resist."

"But you must resist!" Jack cried. "You can't let them salt the Imago away for a lifetime!"

Tappy merely looked at him, her tears flowing. "I love you, Jack."

"And I love you!" he cried without thinking. "That's why they must not put you away!"

She approached the bars and put her hands on them. They did not shock her. She put her face close to his and kissed him when he matched her on the other side. "These past five years with you have been so wonderful, Jack. They will serve for a lifetime's memories. Go with Candy; I don't mind what form she takes so long as you are well treated." She kissed him again and withdrew. "I am ready."

Jack knew it would be useless to protest further. Tappy did love him and would not do anything to hurt him. And that was why Malva had talked to him: to develop that leverage on Tappy. They were taking no chances at all with the confinement of the Imago.

Candy brought out what did indeed look like a coffin, except that it was surrounded by equipment that surely was designed to preserve the life of the person within. Tappy climbed in and lay down. The nightgown did not seem to matter. Candy swung the lid down. It was not a simple thing; it was spiked inside like an iron maiden.

"She'll suffocate!" Jack cried, but even as he spoke he knew she would not. There would be air piped in and nourishment, and her bodily wastes would be piped out. The seeming iron maiden was not a torture box but a mechanical maintenance device.

Candy folded down clasps on the coffin and locked them in place. Now it was impossible for Tappy to fight her way out even if she regained consciousness-- and of course she would be drugged throughout.

Then metallic walls formed around the coffin. The plants in that vicinity disappeared. "What's that?" Jack asked, sure that he would not like the answer, but unable to stop himself.

"That is the formation of a spaceship," the Malva image answered. "The AI city station has been moved to a remote star and will be destroyed, leaving only the isolation ship. A Gaol unit will keep it under continuous surveillance for the lifetime of the host, which should be about a century, since she is young. The Gaol empire will be preserved."