Leo Frankowski

you considerable pain. Therefore, in order to ensure the
happiness of all concerned, Liebchen modified Lady Patricia’s perceptions and programming,
to make
her eager to stay here with you.”
    ‘“What? So how
could Liebchen do such a thing? Liebchen controls trees, not people.”
    “Liebchen can
control a synthesizer, my lord. She doesn’t do it rationally, but intuitively.
She has no real concept of the chemical compounds produced, but she can sense whether
they are the right thing or not. In any event, Liebchen caused a substance to
be produced that reduced Lady Patricia’s need-achievement index by thirty points,
increased her need-affiliation by a similar amount, and modified her perceptions
relative to your physical appearance.”
    “Ach.”
Guibedo was beginning to believe what Dirk was telling him. Little pieces were starting
to fall together: the ridiculously small sweater she had knitted him for his birthday,
the time she had tried to sit down beside him in a canoe. “So what does my
Patty think I look like?”
    “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 in truders 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 Lieb chen
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 man uals 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 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