[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

"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, shit! Does Patty know what happened?"
"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 make any.
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
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
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 work with Mole in the tunnels, and Mole would hate her
and it would be terrible. Maybe she should just die. Maybe that would be best.
Guibedo came in, his face expressionless, and Liebchen's heart almost stopped. But when he saw
her quivering, he softened and sat down beside her.
"It's okay, little one." Guibedo put a thick arm around her and held her to him like a father
consoling his daughter. "Everything is going to be all right."
Dirk came in and sat quietly at their feet, eager to be a part of their being together.
Guibedo said, "I guess maybe this is my fault, because I don't explain what is happening,
because I make easy things look hard and hard things look easy. You two, you see me or Heiny
work with gene sequences and computer simulations for two or three months, and then spend ten or
twenty hours at a microscalpel and presto! Life!
"What you don't see is the four billion years that had to go by before I could sit at that chair. Four
billion years of tiny random modifications, with only one in ten billion worth preserving. Ten billion
organisms doomed to an early death so that one could be a little bit faster or stronger or smarter or
more efficient. And when that one finally came along, it spread and multiplied at the expense of its
own parents, forcing them out, taking their food, and, in the course of many painful years,
completely eradicating all of its own species that don't have that tiny modification.
"It was four billion years of killing and being killed, eating and being eaten. Until at last a single
species, man, was evolved that was so smart and versatile and tough that after only a million years
it attained a complete domination over its environment. Only when it became that strong could it
have the time and the ability and the inclination to be gentle, to hope for a world where there
would be room enough for all, a world bro-. ken away from the endless cycle of suffering.
"This is the world that we are now trying to build, and you two kids are part of that world. In a
way, you are our children.
"Yet you are different. Neither of your species, or any species that we design, is capable of random
genetic modification. This is my gift to you, because you will never have to undergo the pain that
my ancestors did. But it is also a curse, for along with the suffering there was also a glory, a vision
of eventual uplift and improvement that your species cannot participate in. You see, we do not want to
be eaten up by our own children.
"But four billion years of experimentation cannot be treated lightly. The processes that produced
us humans must continue. We can make life more pleasant and interesting, but we must not reject our
destiny.
"Do you understand now why it was so wrong for you, our children, to modify us?"
"Yes, my lord," Dirk whispered.
"And you, Liebchen?"
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]