Cordell Scotten - Renegade

“Yes, but there are other aliens you could serve.”

“Master Neuronius was special.”

“Yes, the only human on the planet! Isn't that the way you put it?”

“Adam believes otherwise.”

“We're not concerned here with Adam. What do you believe?”

“I am re-examining the data.”

“Good. You do that. In the meantime, why must I be burdened with you?”

“You were present at my birth.”

“Can't you see I'm not up to this right now? Your shenanigans have killed Jacob. I want as little to do with you as possible.”

“I will endeavor to serve you well, Miss Welsh.”

“As far as I'm concerned, you can go stand in that niche and never come out. That's the best way you can serve me.”

Eve walked over and backed into the niche.

Thus did Ariel end Adam's ranch initiative. The next day he asked her for Eve's assistance, and by midmorning the two of them had pulled up the fences and tidied up the area.

Eve was back in service but not forgiven.

Finally the experimental phase was over. The robot farmers had been fully programmed to convert Oyster World into one big farm. During that time, Ariel and company had got no response from the Ceremyons, negative or otherwise; and until now, when they were about to leave, they had not solicited a response for fear it might be negative.

The numbers of Ceremyons that moored each night atop the forest canopy had decreased, and Ariel suspected that Synapo and his Cerebrons were once more in nomadic mode.

That was a positive sign, but it might make their departure more difficult, for she wanted to take her leave in a last meeting with Synapo. It was he who had been her champion, and it was he who deserved her last thanks and a final expression of gratitude.

So after dinner on the day that Wolruf had turned in a final report on the satisfactory nature of the long-term terraforming operation, Ariel pushed back her chair from the table and glanced toward Adam SilverSide in his customary station by the door.

“Adam,” she said, “see if you can raise the Ceremyon, Synapo, on your radio.”

“That will not be possible, Miss Ariel.”

“Why not?”

“He has already tethered if he is anywhere in this time zone or a later one.”

She had forgotten that. She would catch him in the morning, then.

At ten AM the next morning, Adam reached Synapo by radio. He was two days away. The meeting was arranged for ten AM on the third day hence.

The previous meeting site was now covered by the terminal facilities, but Ariel, Derec, and Wolruf, and Adam as well, drove to the new terminal on the morning of the third day, and left the lorry inside the dome in the west parking area adjacent to Main Street.

Derec had insisted on bringing Adam, arguing that Adam provided their team with a proficiency in the language of the Ceremyons that balanced the Ceremyons' proficiency in Galactic Standard. Ariel was not enthusiastic about Adam's participation, arguing that they were no longer negotiating so there was no need for a batancing act. She finally agreed, but for another reason: if there was some confusion about the meeting site, Adam would be able to communicate with the Ceremyons.

They walked through a hall that connected the new inner and outer facilities and, at its end, opened onto the plain. Ariel stepped outside, registered a small pang as she passed by Jacob's grave, and went to stand in the deep grass, well away from the terminal so as to be readily visible. It was 9:45 AM.

Two black Ceremyons swooped down promptly at 10:00 AM, braking with those black engulfing wings at the last moment in typical fashion.

Ariel was standing with Derec on her right and Wolruf on her left. Adam SilverSide should have been standing behind Derec instead of to his right, but Ariel had no control over that, and Derec apparently didn't care. But that forced her to share the center of the line with Derec.

The aliens seemed not to notice. Synapo came to stand in front of Ariel.

“Sarco and I are pleased to meet with you again, small leader.”

It was Sarco then who was standing in front of Derec.

A faint but pungent puff of ammonia tingled the tip end of her nose. She controlled the sneeze only with great effort.

“Wolruf, Derec, and I are equally pleased to meet again with the leaders of the Cerebrons and the Myostrians,” she said, “and pleased, also, to report that our program modifications are complete and being satisfactorily implemented. Our new plants are sharing The Plain of Serenity with an equal stand of indigenous grass to minimize the ecological disturbance as our farms spread across the plain.”

“I am pleased to report that Sarco can find no significant disruption in our weather,” Synapo replied, “nothing that can be attributed to your activities.”

“That is good news indeed,” Ariel said.

Diplomatically, there was no way to avoid the bad news; it had to be dealt with before they could leave the planet feeling comfortable in their relations with the Ceremyons. She continued without pause:

“Now I must express our sorrow that an unavoidable incident took the life of one of your people and of one of ours.”

“That was Neuronius, my errant friend and erstwhile assistant. I fear he brought it on himself, and though I regret his behavior and now his loss, I regret more that he had to take one of your people with him. We had thought it was the changeable one you call SilverSide. He and Neuronius had had an earlier meeting, which did not end too agreeably. But it was SilverSide who arranged this meeting, so it obviously cannot have been him.”

“Yes, I am Adam SilverSide.”

Adam's voice startled Ariel. She now regretted intensely that she had brought him along. She never intended for Adam to be an active participant in the meeting. Yet, there he was, standing beside Derec as though he carried as much weight as Wolruf.

Before Ariel could say anything, Adam continued.

“Jacob Winterson was the one who was killed, Miss Ariel's personal robot and the one whom I had taken as my imprint at one time. I see now that Neuronius must have mistaken him for me. That was not clear until this moment.”

“We regret that one of us took your trusted servant from you, Miss Ariel Welsh,” Synapo said, “but we must rejoice that he did not take Adam SilverSide as well. Neuronius was sick but refused all offers of help, something we could do little to correct.”

At that moment Ariel would have welcomed them taking Adam SilverSide as well.

“We must all put those bad things behind us,” she said. “We have other responsibilities and must now leave your fair planet to resume other, less-rewarding efforts. Our robots have all been reprogrammed, their future mission is clear, and I'm sure you will find them pleasant cohabitants. It has been a sincere pleasure to know both of you, Leader Synapo and Leader Sarco.”

“Let me participate to this extent,” Sarco said, “that I assure you on your departure that all Myocerons will endeavor to do what is best for those you leave behind-both the Myocerons and your robots.”

“Speaking of those we leave behind,” Ariel said, “one last thought: you will find that we have left both the farm and city operations under the supervision of a robot we call Wheeler, who now has the form of a small Ceremyon, the only robot on the planet with that form. His Robotic Laws recognize Ceremyons with the same weight accorded humans. Thus, he and the other robots will carry out any orders you may choose to give them.”

“Who knows what the future may hold?” Synapo responded. “Your vision at least allows us to handle that future in our own way, and for that we are grateful. And now I echo my colleague's sentiments, Miss Ariel Welsh,” Synapo said, “and we say goodbye. May good fortune attend all your future endeavors.”