Leo Frankowski

Martin’s
wonderful, of course, and I wouldn’t want anybody else. But we could have worked
something
out where I could have continued with my career.”
    “Have you talked
this over with Uncle Martin?”
    “No. I don’t
want to go back to New York. It’s just that I should want to.”
    “Patty, stop me
if I start sounding too much like my husband, but you were raised in a culture
that said that a woman had to have a career outside of her family and friends just to prove
that she was a full-blown person. You were programmed with that idea. In its
time and place
it was a good one. But here in the valley, nobody has to prove anything
to anyone. There is no question of economic worth because there is no longer
such a thing as economics. You are completely free to do anything you want, to grow in
any direction that suits you.”
    “That’s fine
for the artists, but I’m a working girl.”
    “Lord knows
there’s enough work to be done around here! You should have caught on by now
that the world out there is as obsolete as a dinosaur. The future is here! If you want to make
a meaningful contribution, the place is here and the time is now,” Mona
said.
    “But that still doesn’t explain the
sudden change I went through three months
ago,” Patty said.
    “I keep telling
you, girl. You’re in love.” As Mona laughed, Guibedo walked into the
kitchen and pretended he hadn’t heard the last line.
    “Hi, Mona.
Patty, you can’t use the pool unless you want to swim in salt water.”
    “Salt water!
What are you up to now?” Mona asked.
    “Boats.”
Guibedo grinned. “I figure we got everything we need to make
living comfortable on land, but there’s the other three quarters of the world we
ain’t doing nothing with. So I got some sailboats and a dirigible growing in the
swimming pool.”
    “A dirigible in
the swimming pool?” Mona said.
    “Well, it ain’t
growed up yet. Bucky Fuller, he worked it out in the fifties, how if you
make something big enough and only a couple degrees warmer on the inside than it is
out, the problem gets to be holding it down, not up. It’s gonna need some special
animals, so I got to talk to Heiny about it. You got them TRACs going yet?”
    “We rode one
over here,” Patricia said.
    Mona turned to the
I/O unit on the wall. “Telephone! Send back Lincoln and send Reo over instead.
He’ll be here
in ten minutes, Uncle Martin.”
    “Good. I’ll get
my tapes and drawings.
     
    “Mr. Copernick?
This is Lou von Bork. I’m calling from a pay phone in Washington.”
    “Why are you
still there? Didn’t you get my message?”
    “I just got it.
The courier got delayed. Permanently.”
    “Oh, my God—who
did it?” Copernick said.
    “One of General
Hastings’ goons. Luckily, I had one of our Rejuves in his steno pool. She got the
message to me and split.”
    “Well, then.
Follow your instructions. Drop everything. Get yourself and your people out of
D.C. and back here to Life Valley.”
    “Don’t you think that you owe us an
explanation?” von Bork said.
    “No. I’m just
trying to save your lives.”
    “What about our
contacts? Do I tell them, too?”
    “Sorry. Somebody
would notice that many congressmen leaving.”
    “One other
thing, boss. The Pentagon is like a beehive. I can’t find out what it is because I don’t
have anybody
high up in the military. Hardly anybody there is old enough to get a handle on.
Even Senator Beinheimer is in the dark. Think I should stick around and work on it?”
    “No, dammit! I
want you to get your tail back here. Now!”
    “Yes, sir,”
von Bork said.
    Lou von Bork had
never heard Copernick so adamant,
so naturally he disobeyed his orders. He went back
to his office, pulled out the thick phone directory of all his friends and contacts, and started
calling. He told everyone he could get hold of to leave the cities and head for the hills. Some of them did.
    He worked for six
hours before the news carried the story of the bombing of Life Valley.
     
    At Pinecroft,
Guibedo found his nephew in the simulations room.
    “So what are
you up to, Heiny?”
    “Hi, Uncle
Martin. Birds.”
    “You mean some
peacocks and flamingos, maybe, for decoration?”
    “Of course not!
There’s a war on, remember? I have two species about ready to go. One is a
flying hypodermic needle that looks like a sparrow. It can synthesize either a stunning
agent or a fast-acting poison.
    “The other is an
aerial defense unit designed to command the