iiore.
She shook her head. “But mv religion tells of the afterUIIVJ J11Wn 11Cil ll~jaU· UUC lily Ir;ll~jlvll rrjllJ vl LI•~. J rur~JA life...” “Good for you. I hope you enjoy the theology. I never knock another man’s beliefs, and in turn I expect to be respected for mine. Stated very simply, I face reality and admit that not only isn’t there anyone at home upstairs-there isn’t even any upstairs. I have one life and I intend to make the most of it. Therefore it follows naturally that if I firmly believe this, why then I cannot deprive another person of their turn at existence. Only the very self-assured political and religious zealots kill people in order to save them. Live and let live, I say. Help the good guys and kick out the bad.” “Well spoken. Dad,” Bolivar said, appearing behind Flavia. “Now isn’t it time you got some rest? I’ll take over the guard.” “Thanks. I’m beginning to think that’s not a bad idea at all.” He nodded agreement but was looking at Flavia instead of me, and she was returning the look with equal intensity. “Well, I think I’ll just totter off. Flavia, if you’re not sleepy, why don’t you talk to Bolivar. I’m sure he has a lot of questions to ask you about this planet.” They were nodding enthusiastically at the idea when I made my exit. I was nodding to myself as well. Feeling suddenly, well, not exactly old or past it, but definitely as though my generation was being supplanted. Must have been the depressing effect of the drugs or my little religious lecture.
“Brace yourself, Jim, and think strong thoughts!” I muttered to myself as I dropped grateftilly back onto the sleeping bag. “You are the planetary savior and they will build statues of you.” Which wasn’t too bad a thought and I fell asleep with a smile on mv lins.
Chapter 11
By late afternoon all of the troops were awake and growling for food. My arm was throbbing and felt decidedly uncomfortable. I weighed the relief of dope against a clear head and settled for a clear head. Plans had to be made and a number of alternate courses were already presenting themselves for examination. I shoveled down reconstituted powdered eggs mixed with rehydrated dehydrated bacon, quickly washing the stuff out of sight with caffein condensate. And silently resolved to give more thought to the rations next time we took a trip like this. By the time the plates had been scraped clean my decisions had been made.
“Bolivar, we go to work,” I called out magisterially. Was it with some reluctance that he tore himself away from the undisputably charming company of Flavia? Ah youth, youth! “Would you be so kind as to unlimber the large box labeled Top Secret that you will find in the rear compartment.” “Hooray! It’s about time we found out what was in there.” The others gathered around as he plumped the heavy gray container at my side. I looked at the scratches around the lock. “No patience I see. You’ve been at the lock.” “Not me,” he said. “That was James. The burns along the seam are where I worked on it. “ “And you didn’t succeed either. Not only are the contents of this container the latest invention of the great Professor Coypu and the Special Corps laboratory, but the container itself is unenterable, the lock unbreakable. But after I show it my thumprint here, punch in the correct number...” The top of the container slipped aside and they all leaned forward as I reached in and extracted a black metal box. It had a hole in the top and a switch on its side and I held it up for examination.
“Not too impressive,” Angelina sniffed.
“All in the eye of the beholder, my love. You will quickly 56 discover that what it can do is next to miraculous. It is a molecular extractor and restorer, or MES as the acronym builders would have it. When you see it in action you will grow weak with awe.” I rooted deep in the container and extracted a tiny object. “James, what would you say that this is?” He took it in the palm of his hand, turned it around and around as he squinted at it, then handed it back. “A very detailed model of a heavy mortar. “ “Right, but not exactly right. It is a full-sized mortar that has had ninety-nine percent of its molecules removed. All we must do is replace the missing molecules and it will be restored to its original condition.” “Are you sure you don’t want to rest?” Angelina asked. “You might even have a fever from that wound.” “Scoff now and repent at leisure!” I set the MES on the ground, then pulled a cable from its side, which I clipped to the miniature mortar. There was an expanding plastic funnel in the box, which I opened out then plugged into the orifice on top of the machine.
“All that is missing is a source of raw material. Sand, stones, debris of any kind, just dump it into the funnel, boys, and keep it full. That’s it; let me know when you are ready. Good-then here we go!” I reached out and flipped the switch on its side and it began to whine petulantly. Nothing else happened. I saw the skeptical looks.
“Patience,” I cozened. “It takes a few moments to strip the molecules down to their component particles-ahh there it goes.” It was like watching a balloon being pumped full of air, although in this case the mortar was being pumped full of steel. As the level of debris fell in the hopper the mortar began to swell, larger and larger, growing and expanding before our eyes as though we were looking at it through a three-dimensional zoom lens. Within a minute it was fullsize. A bell pinged and the whine of operation died away.
“Any doubters now?” I asked, reaching out and rapping the barrel. It gave out the ring of pure steel.
“This is really great. Dad,” Bolivar said, twirling the range adjustments as James squinted through the sight. “It means we can take any kind of heavy equipment with us by squeezing out all the excess mass. Sav...” “I’ll bet you’ve got a number of interesting things already in that box.” James finished the sentence for him.
“I do-and we’re going to use one right now. Let’s just squeeze that mortar down to size first.” I flipped the switch in the opposite direction and the mortar began to shrink as the whine built up. A steady stream of dust poured from an orifice on the MES’s side.
“Steel molecules,” I said. “Ninety-nine out of every hundred being whipped away.” When the process was completed I put the miniature mortar away and took out a complex machine that rested lightly in the palm of my hand.
“A tissue regenerator and4iealer, the kind that they have only in the big hospitals. Twenty-four hours in this machine and my arm will be as good as new. I am sure that we all agree I must be in tip-top sh"pe before we start this election campaign. “ The boys shoveled the molecular steel back into the hopper and the sturdy medical machine grew before our eyes. When it was life-size again it was but the work of a moment to pull out its power leads and plug them into the atomic generator of the touring car. Angelina carefully removed the bandages from my arm-it really was a mess-and I lay back in the beneficial embrace of the machine. It hummed therapeutically and industriously and I felt better already.
I was almost sorry to leave our bosky dell a day later. The tissues of our spirits, as well as the tissues of my arm, had been restored by our stay here. The weather was perfect, the air clear, the pressures none. Angelina and I talked quietly while she knitted; she was using monomolecular fiber to make a bulletproof vest. The boys paid court to Flavia who basked in the warmth of their attention and forgot for the moment the ordeal that she had been through. But once my arm had healed the old itch for action began to scratch for attention. Angelina knew that the picnic in paradise was over when she saw me oiling up the needle guns.
“Start packing things away, boys,” she said. “We’ll be leaving soon,” After that it was just a matter of steady driving. Flavia’s father had been an agricultural inspector and her early years had been spent traveling with him all over the interior. She knew it well. This enabled her to lead us by mountain tracks, along the escarpment and up through the foothills, staying away from farms and towns as much as possible. We passed the occasional smallholding or wood-cutting party, but little else. When we finally dropped down to the central plateau we were already within sight of our goal.