Secret of Spring Page 15

  “Thanks to your excellent care and our bush pilot, I have survived. Soon we will be warping forward and I will regress once more. I may need to impose one more time.”

  “I am glad to help. I know this has been hard for you,” she said.

  “Actually, it has been rather exhilarating. I think in my next cycle, I must consider becoming a space pilot,” he said, smiling.

  “Our pilot,” Spring said, looking around. The Txnghc was gone.

  “Yes, he is functional now. It happened as surmised by your Vinese friend. Going back reversed his metamorphosis as well.”

  “And we will go forward to deliver you?”

  “The pilot will go into his cycle, but now we have Cling Ling to take over, so it should be safe this time.”

  “Yes, it’s all working out just wonderfully—” Her composure suddenly crumbled. Spring pulled herself from the sack and walked to the porthole, stopping to hold the ladder for support.

  “Are you unwell?” asked the diplomat solicitously. “Your injury?”

  “It’s not that. It’s just a bump. I just can’t believe Herb is gone. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to him.” The tears began to flow again and she hid her face behind her hands. “Oh, Herb!” she cried.

  “Yes?” he answered, coming down the ladder.

  Shocked, she turned, hardly believing her eyes. She launched herself at him, kissing him and hugging tightly as if she would never let him go.

  Herb returned her embrace and they stood entwined for a long, wonderful moment. Suddenly, Spring pulled away and punched him in the stomach with her fist.

  “Ouch,” Herb said. “What’s that for?”

  “For lying to me. I thought you were shot.”

  “I never told you I was dead,” he protested.

  “But, I don’t understand,” she said, walking to the porthole and gazing out into the darkness. “The last time I saw you, the ants were preparing an execution. I heard the gunfire.”

  Herb looked sheepish. “Well, things are not always as they seem,” he said with embarrassment. “The diplomat had already reaped the harvest.”

  “My talk with the Commander went very well,” the diplomat interpreted. “I reminded them of their trade agreement with my planet. It is one they would not wish to disrupt. They agreed to release us with all proper respect due a personage of my rank. That went for my companions as well, naturally.”

  “Then you were able to speak with them before you regressed to an infant,” exclaimed Spring.

  “Yes indeed. Previous to our, ahem, ‘escape,’ we were being ushered to the banquet hall for a proper feast. The ants are not used to feeding humanoid guests so it took them some time to gather what they needed. We were about to be treated to the first course when our friend, Herb, panicked. And, as you humans say, the rest is history.” He smiled.

  “Then we weren’t going to land in the soup, after all,” Spring said.

  “No. It was just that I had heard so many frightening rumors about insects and when I heard what I thought was my name as an ingredient—” Herb shrugged.

  “At least you didn’t spill the beans,” Spring laughed.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. But what about those guns? I know I heard them fire.”

  “They fired all right,” Herb said, “but not at me. The ants were really upset when I dumped their soup. You see, they thought I was rejecting their pact with the diplomat. They had no way of knowing we could no longer communicate. When they ran after us and banged on the ship, they just wanted us to come out so they could make it up by the honor of a twenty-two gun salute. By the time I returned to the ship with the good news, you had injured yourself. So you see, I am no hero.”

  Spring turned and faced him squarely. “Herb, when you left the ship, you didn’t know you would return. That was quite a sacrifice. If that’s not a hero, then I’ve never seen one.”

  She threw her arms around him once again and this time did not let go until Herb broke the embrace. He knew she was grateful to him, but he was not going to take advantage of that gratitude this time. He changed the subject.

  “We will go forward soon. Right now we’re in Drift and that’s why we can walk about. It’s necessary to give the propulsion units a chance to cool. Timewarping takes its toll on these old ships. We better strap in, though,” he warned.

  All passengers except for Cling Ling battened down for the rough ride. Herb glanced over to Spring, but she had her eyes shut. He thought her cheek was damp. He worried that her head hurt more than she had let on.

  The noise began like someone shaking broken glass in a tin can. A two ton can. Over they rolled, shaking and rattling, gathering speed until the ship was a streak in the empty space of time. A last huge vibration rocked the ship as they crashed down for a landing.

  Cling Ling climbed down the ladder to help the others out of their sacks. Spring took the diplomat, now a baby, in her arms and they all exited past the Txnghc who was tucked into his cocoon once more.

  An impressive assembly was on hand outside the ship to greet them. The diplomat had given Cling coordinates where to land before he was reduced to baby talk, and Cling Ling had hit the mark squarely.

  The dignitaries were dressed in formal tie and tails with tall, black silk hats. Red sashes and ribbons adorned the vests of the men, and women were in long gowns, decked in heavy jewelry. One couple moved forward to receive their group, a distinguished looking man, and striking woman. Spring thought she detected something familiar about them. Of course: they were the child’s parents!

  Following proper welcomes, handshakes, and introductions all around, Spring presented the mother with her child. As she lifted the blanket of the bundle away from her breast, it fell empty to the ground. She gave an involuntary scream of horror. He had disappeared.

  The mother’s eyes widened momentarily as she gave a slight gasp.

  “I’m so sorry,” Spring said. “I thought we were in time.”

  A slow smile began to break across the mother’s face. She placed both hands upon her stomach and gave a small exclamation of joy as it expanded.

  “All is well, my dear,” she assured Spring, opening her cape to expose her bulging form.

  “That’s him,” Spring exclaimed happily.

  “We’ve always wanted a boy,” said his father proudly.

  20

  Snow Job

  Once the elation of the family reunion had worn off, the group settled back soberly in their sacks, battened down for their original destination. Although Cling Ling assured Herb no time had been lost which could not be regained, it was difficult for Herb to grasp emotionally. With each minsec that passed, he envisioned Lily withering away, calling his name in hopeless sobs.

  He knew that was ridiculous, since if she really were to expire on the Freezer, she would feel no pain, and certainly not be aware of her plight. It would be rather like dying peacefully in sleep. If it had to happen—

  “Herb, nothing will happen to Lily,” Spring said, from her sack next to him. “We won’t let it.”

  Herb smiled at her gratefully. The Founder. Could she read his mind now? No, of course not. She was simply a sensitive, kind person. Simply Spring.

  The warning light for warp-out blinked. It was time. The Txnghc pilot touched the control.

  The group stood in the huge ship port terminal looking at each other in shocked astonishment.

  “What happened?” Herb asked, surveying the familiar surroundings in confusion. “Why did we return here? We should be in Kamalot.”

  “Wait. Wait a moment,” Spring said. “I don’t remember landing, do you?” She put her hand to her head. “I feel odd. Dizzy.”

  “I believe I see what has happened,” Cling Ling said with a concerned look overtaking his foliage. “We have returned to Paradise.”

  “We know that,” Herb snapped in annoyance. “That idiotic pilot—”

  “No, you misunderstand,” Cling Ling said patiently. “Not by flig
ht, by time. This is our past. The ship must have malfunctioned at a critical moment.”

  Spring looked across the terminal, her eyes widening as Patrol officers entered, running toward them. “He’s right, Herb. We’re back where we started. Quick. Into the ship before those cops get here,” she said, pushing him forward.

  “Halt in the name of PPA,” came the stern warning from behind them. It was clearly too late to run any place. They halted.

  “Cling,” Spring whispered, “If this is our past, why didn’t we escape?”

  “We must have arrived a minsec or so off. Time has not changed. We are the ones out of step,” he explained.

  “If I’m not interrupting,” said the ranking officer, none too patiently, “there is the small matter of an arrest here?”

  “Of course, officer,” Spring said sweetly. “You go right ahead.”

  He gave her a withering look and her smile shrank. She bit her lip and zipped it as well. Police or Patrol, whatever they were called on whatever planet, were famous for their lack of humor. To tell the truth, she didn’t much feel like a bundle of giggles herself.

  “We haven’t done anything wrong, officer,” Herb interjected. “We are trying to stop a crime.”

  The patroller looked at him as if inspecting an aphid. “And what crime might that be, sprout?”

  Sprout. Herb colored in anger. That was typical. Give some small town cop with an over grown ego a uniform and he turns into an aster. Cling Ling answered for him before he had a chance to protest.

  “My friend is telling the truth, officer. A young lady has been abducted from our planet.”

  “Uh-huh. Why hasn’t the Patrol been informed of this?” the patroller inquired skeptically.

  “Uh, well, that’s a long story,” Spring said, impatiently.

  “Aren’t you lucky? We’ll have all the time in the universe to discuss it where you’re going. Charges,” he bellowed to his fellow officer.

  The uniformed Treeple pulled out a small lily pad and read aloud. “Receiving stolen property.”

  “We didn’t steal anything,” Herb said.

  “He means the Turbo,” whispered Spring.

  “Possession of an unlawful vehicle,” he continued, “consorting with known offenders, speeding, flying without a license, contributing to an accident—”

  “Wait a minute,” cried Spring. “What about our rights? Don’t we get a chance to defend ourselves?”

  “Naturally, you will be met by your defendant upon arrival at the Tribunal. You know that,” the officer said with irritation.

  “No, she doesn’t,” Herb said. “She’s not a real Veganette. Let her go back to her own planet.”

  “Herb.” Spring elbowed him. True, he was only trying to help, but it looked as if he had just added fuel to the inferno of troubles they were already roasting in.

  The officer’s face lit up with undisguised glee.

  “Impersonating a native? Entering the planet without a pass? I haven’t seen such a variety of charges since—never. I may be up for promotion for this one!” He sneered.

  “Oh really? Well, what about Intergalactic Immunity?” Spring challenged. He didn’t look so smug now.

  The smile faded from the officer’s face to be replaced with his usual look of hostility. “That’s for the Tribunal to decide. I just bring’em in. Move out,” he barked briskly, as they were escorted to a Patrol car, and transported to a waiting booth at Tribunal Hall.

  The three sat alone in the small room debating their fate.

  “Cling, what do you think they will do with us?” Herb asked. “We don’t have time to be prisoners. We have to get to Lily.”

  “Yes, it is essential for us to return to the Txnghc ship and reverse this timewarp,” Cling Ling agreed.

  “We must have hit a bump and been sent back too far by mistake,” Spring said.

  “A bump?” Herb yelled. “There aren’t any bumps in space. I may not be a hot shot space traveller like you, Spring, but even I know that.”

  “I was speaking metaphorically. Calm down, Herb,” she said defensively. “We all want out of this as badly as you do.”

  “I agree. We must not rustle our leaves needlessly. In a way Mistress Moon is correct. I believe the timewarp was properly executed. Yet, some physical interference such as a magnetic storm may have thrown us off course for a moment. A moment is quite a lot when time is to be overlapped. This is a slightly altered history. If we could but return to the exact point we erred, this would be cancelled out. But if we must go on from here—” Cling Ling trailed off, looking very unhappy about the prospect.

  Spring completed the miserable thought. “We cancel out the other. I’m beginning to catch on. We can remember the other future because it has actually become a part of our past? This is too confusing. Let’s go.”

  “We can’t just walk out,” Herb snorted. “We’ve been arrested, remember?” He lowered his voice. “Besides, even if we tried, what about the patrollers?”

  “Spring has the right idea, Herb. If we don’t return within the hour, it will be too late. The Txnghc will leave with his other fare, minus us,” Cling Ling said.

  “He may be gone already,” Herb said in dismay.

  “No, while you two were bantering with the patrollers, I asked the Txnghc to give us an hour to return and he agreed. Since he was with us, he shares our memory,” Cling Ling explained. “He isn’t anxious to repeat the entire journey. Even without us, he could still end up with the ants, and who would fly him out of there? But there are limits to the time window, so we cannot delay.”

  “You mean, we have to do everything all over again?” Herb asked in amazement.

  “Not if we get back on track and find our former notch in time. We can then proceed as planned.”

  “Then we have no choice. We have to escape,” Herb said with calm new determination. “Any suggestions as how?”

  Just then their counselor entered and introduced himself. He was a thin Vinese with waxed leaves. As he saw it, they could not be held over until the Tribunal met, and Spring could not be held at all. Intergalactic Immunity did indeed cover all charges against her. She would be deported as quickly as the arrangements could be made.

  As for Herb and Cling Ling, since the main onus fell upon Spring as the driver of the outlawed vehicle, they could be charged only as accessories. With their clean records, however, and in Herb’s case, prominent family, their dismissal was all but assured.

  “Then, we are free to leave?” Herb asked, considerably perked by the news.

  The counselor confirmed that was so. All they had to do was pay the routine Assurance fee that they would appear for the next Tribunal and they would be out on their own recognizance.

  “You mean bail?” Spring asked.

  The counselor handed Herb the appearance ticket with a schedule date and the fee amount. Herb blanched white. “That much?” He passed it over to Cling Ling. “I have enough to cover our expenses, Cling, but I can’t meet this.”

  Cling Ling shook his foliage. “I regret I cannot find sufficient funds to cover it either.” They looked at Spring.

  “Well, don’t look at me,” Spring said. “It took everything I had to pay my fare on the lightship. I have reserves on New Landers, but that would mean going back in person. I’m sure Zygote has a watch there. Anyway, most of it is tied up in legalities since Father’s death. It would take time.”

  Herb frowned. “We don’t have that either.”

  “If I may suggest?” said the counselor, handing them a small card. It read: THORN AND THISTLE—PERSONAL LOANS.

  “A loan. That’s what we need,” Herb agreed. “Quick. We need a communiline to call them.”

  “Would they lend us that much?” asked Spring, doubtfully.

  “Ahem.” The counselor cleared his throat for attention. “Mr. Moss’s father is not unknown in this community. I feel confident his name would suffice to secure your fee payment.” He smiled ingratiatingly.

&nb
sp; “That’s right. Your father. He’s rich, isn’t he? Why don’t you just call him?” Spring asked.

  “Because I don’t care to explain how I landed in jail for stealing hot cars,” he snapped. “Not to mention what’s happened to Lily.”

  “Oh. Yes. I see your point,” Spring said, biting her lip.

  “I agree for other reasons,” Cling Ling said. “The fewer others we involve in this hopefully temporary history, the fewer loose ends we have to contend with upon return. However—”

  “Then get the loan quick,” Spring interrupted.

  “Mistress Moon—” Cling Ling said.

  “Please, Cling. We have no more time to waste,” Herb agreed.

  “I shall be honored to handle the transaction for you, Mr. Moss,” the counselor said, smiling his oily smile and rolling out of the room.

  “I can’t believe it’s that simple,” Spring said with a sigh of relief. “We’re actually getting out of here.”

  “Yes, and I won’t even have to pay back the loan when we return because all of this will be erased,” Herb said.

  “Herb, I must speak with—” Cling Ling began.

  But before he could finish, the door opened and the counselor returned in the company of a shady looking Treeple. Perhaps that wasn’t a fair assessment, Spring thought, considering most Treeple’s natural appearance. She was later to have more faith in first impressions.

  “This is Mr. Thorn,” their counselor said. “Because of the considerable amount of the loan involved, he wishes to consult with you in person. If you will excuse me?” He rolled out, securing the door behind him.

  The Treeple leaned across the desk and spoke in a raspy voice. It could have been natural, or it could have come from an addiction to raspberries. Herb frowned and began to wonder what sort of company they were dealing with.

  “Why should I fork over three G’s on a bunch that’s going to skip planet?” he asked.

  They all looked at him in surprise. How could he possibly know they were planning to leave?

  Spring asked, “How did you know that?”