Leo Frankowski

across in front and four in back. Its
streamlined, rigid body was six feet wide and five high, and was covered with sleek
gray fur.
    “Rolls, I want
you to meet Patty. She will be working with us from now on.”
    “Hi,
Patty.” For all his size, Rolls had a young boy’s voice.
    “Open up, Rolls.
We’re going for a ride,” Mona said.
    “Oh,
goodie!” Rolls opened both doors in his side. Patricia sat comfortably in
a seat designed for two, but Mona, with her large frame, was somewhat cramped inside.
    “They’re all
only about three quarters of their adult size,” Mona said, “and their speed
and endurance are only half of what they will be. When he grows up, Rolls will be able to hold
eight people. Rolls, do a few laps.” The animal began a graceful lope for the
perimeter of the cavernous subbasement.
    “He certainly
makes up for it in enthusiasm,” Patricia said.
    “With good
reason. Heinrich tied the pleasure centers of the TRACs’ brains in with the pressure
sensors under the seats. They’re only really happy when they’re running somebody
around.”
    “Well, it works
both ways.” Patricia ran her fingers through the thick fur on the seat next to
her. “It feels like chinchilla.”
    “Heinrich says
that if you are going to do something, you might as well do it right. Not that it
costs anything extra. We have twenty-five variants of passenger animals, from Vet,
who’s a single seater, to Greyhound, who will be able to seat sixty-four. And
Winnie’s an animal version of a motor home, for vacationing.
    “The others here are for heavy
transportation, like Reo and Mack, or
construction, like Le Tourneau.”
    “You certainly
gave them cute names,” Patty said.
    “They picked
their own after Uncle Martin talked with them,” Mona said. “Mole over
there is for tunneling. The plan is to build an underground road system,
for practical,
aesthetic, and safety reasons.”
    “What’s safe about
a tunnel?” Patricia asked.
    “A hollow root
lines the thing, so there’s little danger of a cave-in,” Mona said. “The
safety comes from a clean,
dry roadbed without any children playing on it.”
    “Rolls, run us
over to Uncle Martin’s house.”
    Without slowing, the
TRAC ran up a circular ramp, then headed down the tunnel to Guibedo’s house.
    “TRACs have an
excellent sense of direction and an amazing ability to remember maps. Not that
it’s needed yet. The few tunnels we have had to be dug by the LDUs.”
    “I thought the
LDUs were designed for construction work,” Patricia said.
    “Yes and no.
They’re certainly efficient, and they’re good sports about it. But an LDU has
an IQ of 150, and it isn’t healthy for any being to work too far below his abilities. Once the
moles get going, we’ll eventually have a tunnel entrance to every tree house in the
world.”
    “How long is that going to
take?” Patricia asked.
    “About thirty
years. TRACs reproduce in a fashion similar to fauns, except that since their
function is simpler, training
is quicker and they can reproduce more rapidly.
A typical litter will be a dozen until there are enough of them to go
around.”
    They arrived at Oakwood and got out.
    “Coffee?” Patricia said.
    “Love some. Rolls, go home and send
back Lincoln.” Mona patted his sleek
gray flank.
    “Aw, gee,”
Rolls said.
    “No. You’ll be
grown up in a month and then there’ll be as much work as you want. Now move,”
Mona said as
she and Patricia walked up to the tree house.
    “I’m going to
have fun working with them,” Patricia said over coffee.
    “You do seem to
be enjoying yourself here in the valley.”
    “I am, but I
shouldn’t be.”
    “Uncle Martin’s
acting crotchety again?”
    “Oh, there have
been some little things. Like he wouldn’t wear the sweater I knitted him for
his birthday. And sometimes he’s a little brusque—we went canoeing, and when I
tried to sit next to him, he just sort of pushed me off and told me I was being
ridiculous. But most of the time he’s awfully nice.”
    “So what’s
troubling you?” Mona asked.
    “It’s just that
I spent nine years working my way up in the broadcasting industry, and just when I
was getting close to the top, I quit.”
    “A lot of people
are dropping out, Patty. Why work when you don’t have to?”
    “But I liked my
job. It was my whole life. Then I visited Martin and flushed my whole career
down the absorption
toilet.”
    “Sounds like
love, girl,” Mona said.
    “Oh,