The Secret of Spring (4 page)

In those days, the prototype ate by absorbing nourishment from the soil and procreated by means of a retractable stamen in the mouth. Through years of experimentation and evolution, the sexual function came to be served by a fleshy root located in the usual human region.
Veganoids
still had the stamen, though it came to be considerably smaller and located far back in the upper roof of the mouth. It was employed only under certain questionable conditions, and was no longer capable of reproductive qualities. Otherwise,
Veganoids
had standard mouth equipment, and consumed
nonsapient
vegetable matter.

Female
Veganoids
were also cut from the general pattern of their human ancestors, with the same inherent differences. Female sex receptacles were positioned in the proper junction of the legs, but opened like the blossom of a lovely flower when aroused. Naturally they did not possess the stamen; that was strictly a male property.

And so Herb had been strongly reminded again of the origin of his subspecies. The ceremony bored him, but it did instill in him the pride of being a
Veganoid
. Surely his kind represented the best attributes of both animal and plant.

The ceremony having concluded, Herb moved slowly along with the departing throng toward the exits. A smaller figure stepped quickly, pushing through the crowd toward him.

"Herb! Herb Moss!"

He turned to see who had called out his name, and felt a dainty female hand caress his arm. It was Lily, a sweet blossom, but a rather strong-willed young
Veganette
. They had been childhood friends, growing up together, and later keeping close company for several seasons as prospective union mates. All their friends and family had naturally assumed they would eventually put down roots together, but Herb had not been ready for a permanent commitment.

He had left the parental garden to go out on his own to grow up a bit. He was hardly the green sprout she had known, yet he realized how he must have hurt her with his abrupt departure. He did not regret leaving, but knew he could have let her down more softly. He had departed without any goodbye, simply because it was easier that way.

Time had not changed much. He was still at a loss for words, but a confrontation could not be avoided this time. The least he could do was try to explain why he had done it. Of course, that might prove as difficult. At the moment, he was not sure he understood it himself.

They walked out through the rock gardens beside the Hall for a short while in silence.

"Herb-"

"Lily-"

They had spoken in unison,
then
laughed nervously together.

"Please, you first!" said Herb, gesturing for her to speak. At least she had something to say, perhaps.

Lily looked up at him, nervously twisting a leaf of her woven skirt in her hands. It was the custom of Founder's Day to dress in natural fibers. Herb had compromised with a grass shirt over cotton trousers.

"I was surprised to see you in the Hall, Herb. It has been half a season. Of course, I am glad to see you again."

Had it been so short a time? It seemed much longer to Herb. A lifetime since they had been this close. Physically, yes, but emotionally he suspected they were as far apart as ever. If he should reach for her now, would she intertwine or pull back? Did absence make the heart grow fonder? Or only wiser?

Herb found he was too much the coward to test it. Without moving he sensed the invisible barrier that was still there, holding him at arm's length. Was it worth it? He could not look directly at her, but concentrated upon the patterns of the rocks. If he met her gaze, he was afraid he would still want to tear down the barrier, and doubted he had the strength for the siege. The quiet of the moment seemed to roar in his ears.

She was waiting for him to say something. "The Sharing," he said.

"Ah yes. Obligatory attendance. Otherwise you would not have returned." It was a statement, not a question.

Herb colored. He knew it was true. He would not have returned home this soon just for Lily. It was the timing that seemed right. She had not come into it. But he did not want to hurt her feelings, so he said nothing at all.

"You weren't always so reticent, Herb. I can remember when you had quite a bit to say on the subject of you and
I
. But to go without a word! I
kept believing
that I would hear from you day after day, but eventually I saw the light." She had almost exploded in her sudden vehemence. Then abruptly, in a softer tone, almost a whisper, she asked, "Why, Herb? Why did we grow apart?"

Herb felt a rush of anger toward her for making him the villain. He wanted to hurt her back. "How can I explain it to you, Lily? I felt stunted! I couldn't go on seeing you as things stood. You wanted roots, a unionized status. I wasn't ready for that then."

"And now?" Lily said, green tears gathering at the edge of her eyes. "You have been away to see more of the sphere, to encounter new varieties, to taste strange nectar. Tell me, in all your travels, was there ever a quiet moment when you contemplated our situation? No, I suppose you were much too busy to-"

Lily stopped speaking as Herb suddenly shook her. "Stop it!" he snapped. "Of course I thought about us! That's all I thought about.
That,
and my life here. Where it was all leading. Frankly, I didn't like what I saw."

Lily had composed herself somewhat. "But Herb, all young men have doubts. It's a natural part of the growth process. You can't just pull up and leave each time things aren't the way you imagine they should be."

"I know. That's the reason I've returned." He rubbed a hand across his forehead. He was getting a headache. He hadn't had one since-since the last time he saw Lily, as a matter of fact.

"Oh Herb, let's forget all this foolishness. Why don't we see each other again, and go from there? I know it will be better this time."

She was grasping at straws. Herb hated seeing her this way, doing this to him and
herself
. Yet he couldn't walk away. She meant more than that. He suddenly realized his anger had been directed toward himself, not at her. Perhaps it always had been. Lily was a lifelong friend. She was a wonderful girl, and he was undoubtedly some breed of loco weed for turning down her offer. But something about their proposed union had never grown quite true. He wanted to care for her as much as she obviously did for him, but he simply didn't.

Looking away, Lily asked, "Is it someone else, Herb?" She paused. "Or was it because I don't believe in
preunion
pollination?"

"No!" Herb quickly replied, taken aback. "I respected your feeling about that. I still do. And, in answer to your question, no, there is no one else. I am still unready to plant a commitment with you. Or with anyone."

The tears sat in the corner of her eyes, but did not run. They caught the morning light and sparkled like sad emeralds.

"I still work at the Mothers Day Nursery, Herb. If you should wish to speak with me about anything, well, you know where to reach me."

With that, she turned and walked swiftly away, then stopped short and called back over her shoulder without looking.

"Grow and flourish!"

It was the Founder's Day blessing. "Grow and flourish!" Herb returned as she disappeared around the corner. He suspected that she had not turned because she didn't want him to see that her tears were now falling. Indeed, he had hurt her, and she didn't deserve it. He felt like a ripe stinkweed.

4

Gabriel's Trump

Gabriel was depressed as he returned to his office. He loved
Spring
as he had loved no other since Laurel, yet he had had
to
send her away, and he doubted that he would ever see her dear face again. But there was nothing to be done about that, so he did his best to distract himself with sedate thoughts about his profession. The alternative would be to brood on the likely disaster he feared was coming, and that was pointless.

After the setback of the Great Darkness had isolated so many worlds of the galaxy, recovery had been sporadic and uncertain. The new order, as it gradually emerged, was not the same as the older order. Science had not sufficed to maintain civilization; now a number of disciplines of magic buttressed it. Thus, the current scene had spaceships and sorcery, in a sometimes uneasy association.

Medicine had advanced once again to a comforting level, but the occult arts had also achieved a new status, being revered by the general society as much or more as science. Both such establishments often existed side by side with equal respectability, as many of the planets regarded the ancient practices a science in their own right. Many wondrous works were performed that could not be explained away by the strict scientific standards of the past, and what cannot be readily explained must necessarily be magic.

Astral projection tours were conducted for those adventurous enough to crave something beyond mere planetary travel. Channeling and reincarnations clinics were available for others interested in genealogical research. There were any number of Forecast centers which dealt with the fundamental teachings of tarot, I
Ching
, palmistry, handwriting analysis, astrology, numerology, and all the lesser divinations. This did not include foreign institutes specializing in Egyptian magic, Celtic Runes, Voodoo, and alien based future castings so numerous and obscure that it would be impossible for any student to become proficient with more than a few.

Schools of Witchcraft were also in evidence on a few planets, but not as popular as they used to be with the new spoilsport galactic regulations forbidding sacrifice, human or alien. Most of the so-called "old religion" establishments were now more cultural than magical in nature. Of course, there were stories of unexplained disappearances, but none had been directly linked to known witchcraft universities. There was one planet said to "overlook" many of the regulations, but it was not a member of the Galactic League and therefore not open for visitation by the general public.

Within the circle of healing artists were White Witches, herbalists, yogis,
visualists
, color therapists, mentalists, experts in all fields of meditation, and psychics. Medical men often relied upon the mystical powers of these healers as backup for harmonizing the physical and mental balance of their patients. The mind/body connection was an established fact, and often was the thin line between death and recovery. MD stood as often for Magical as Medical Doctor. No longer were such ideas or their proponents considered to be lunatics. It was an era of free belief.

He arrived at the office, and stepped out of the cab. The charge for his travels would be debited from his account. With luck, no enemy would have spied the particular destination, or realized that his daughter had not returned with him. Above all, he wanted her to be safe, and not just because of the precious information she carried.

It was no longer safe for
Spring
to remain with him on New Landers, so he had decided to send her away to New Moon where she would be cloistered among the secluded Companions of Comfort Society. They were a peaceful female meditation order, located in a remote sector of the Moon known as the Crater
Tycho
. She was to travel there by a roundabout route under an assumed identity. He hoped it would be the last place Zygote would ever think to look for her.

Gabriel didn't know how much Zygote had learned about
Spring's
involvement, or how much he only guessed, but it would hardly be in his best interests to spread his suspicions. No, if anyone was searching for
Spring
, it was only Zygote, he was certain. One formidable enemy was more than sufficient, however.

Gabriel regretted having used her at all, but in the event something should happen to him, he needed to be certain that she would have the information. It was his legacy to her. Now that word had leaked out, all he could do was attempt to protect her and hope that she would come to forgive him one day. Of course she had said she had forgiven him already, but that was her sweet impulse; she had not yet fully appreciated the gravity of what he had done to her.

He looked warily around, but saw no sign of intrusion. But surely it was coming. He had been afraid that it would strike before he managed to get
Spring
clear; his arts had shown its malign incipience. Now all he had to do was await its arrival. Meanwhile he would continue business as usual, so as to pretend that he suspected nothing. He resumed his musings.

Some planets were freer than others, naturally, and it was the wide diversity of cultures and faiths which made travel in this age so rich an experience. New Landers was a pleasant planet, with strong, Old World roots. It had been inhabited by a conservative group of Free Thinkers following the great purge on New World. They brought some of their radical democratic ideals to their new home and they had stood well against the test of time.

Fair Dale was an average small metropolis. It had a centralized downtown district with shops and public establishments, surrounded by a wide scattering of homes and farms. New Landers was one of several planets in orbit around one central sun, with a rotation time providing approximately thirty-hour days. Seven or eight were spent working, and the remainder used for sleep and recreation. Not so different from the old Earth days. Earth, or rather New World, was of course now little more than a grey molten cinder.