John Brunner - To Conquer Chaos

Something had emerged from the dome, from among the jungly green vegetation there, and the group of people off to the left had scattered and run. Something monstrous had come out!

A thing twenty feet tall, waving uncountable limbs like whips, shrieking now as though maddened by pain and being driven by some invisible force straight towards the rocks among which Conrad and Yanderman lay hid!

That day began like any other for Nestamay, although an hour earlier than most, for it would again be her turn to keep overnight watch after sunset, and shortly after midday she would have to try and catch up on her sleep; that apart, everything was as usual.

Washed, and having attended to baby Dan’s vegetable-like needs, she fetched their day’s rations and prepared a quick breakfast. She hardly spoke to Grandfather-indeed, since that unexpected cracking of his self-control which had followed her accusations against Jasper, he seemed deliberately to have hardened the shell around himself again, and spent more time than ever in silent anxious musing.

Their frugal meal was almost over when there was a bang on the door of the hovel, patched together like the rest of the building from salvaged scrap. The caller didn’t wait for an invitation to enter, but stepped in at once.

It was Keefe, a burly man with only one eye, the other having been lost years ago to a newly-hatched thing. He carried a large cracked plastic dish in which rested a clump of soil containing a sickly plant.

“Sorry to disturb you, Maxall,” he said. “We found this out towards the East Brokes, or rather my kid found it. She doesn’t think she’s seen one like it before, and nor do I.”

Grandfather grunted. “It could happen,” he said sceptically. “Let’s have a look at it.” He reached out a casual hand and took the dish.

Rubbing his hands, Keefe waited. It was logical that he should bring a problem of this kind to Grandfather, Nestamay knew-nobody else had so much information so clearly memorised. But it was obvious he didn’t like the chore. If only Grandfather didn’t have this gift of making even grown, knowledgeable men feel like ignorant children …!

“Nestamay!” Grandfather’s sharp voice broke into her meditation. “Get my microscope, will you?”

Nestamay jumped to her feet and went to the row of shelves at the back of the hovel on which were kept the few serviceable scientific instruments their family had culled from the mess below the dome. She took down the microscope gingerly and bore it to the old man wrapped in its antirust cloth.

“Is it something new?” Keefe ventured.

“D’you think I’d be bothering with the microscope if I was sure?” Grandfather retorted, picking off a sample leaf and sliding it into place under the objective.

Keefe rolled his eye as though seeking strength from above, then caught Nestamay’s attention and gave her a grin which he probably intended to be sympathetic. But the girl had a sudden attack of family loyalty and tossed her hair haughtily.

“Hah!” Grandfather said a moment later. He put aside the leaf and held out a hand towards Nestamay. When she didn’t immediately understand the gesture, he snapped his fingers. “Knife, you little fool!” he exclaimed. “Do I have to tell you every time what it is I want?”

Flushing, Nestamay fetched the knife. Maybe she shouldn’t have made such an unfriendly response to Keefe after all, she thought. Grandfather could be incredibly maddening. Sulky, she dropped back to her seat.

His age no handicap to his deft fingers, Grandfather sectioned the stem of the plant and selected a tiny roundel to examine with the microscope. Adjusting the focus minutely, he addressed Keefe.

“Out towards the East Brokes, you said?”

“That’s right. The way the thing went after we kicked it out of Channel Nine the other night. I thought it might have come through on the thing’s hoof, perhaps-in a lump of mud.” He hesitated. “That is, if it is something new.”

“It’s new,” Grandfather confirmed, leaning back with a sigh. “Either that, or else an unreported life-stage of some plant we already know. But that’s improbable. It’s a matter of years since we had the last stranger, and any variant form would have been spotted before this.”

Nestamay bent to the plastic dish and stared at the innocent-looking plant in it. Rather commonplace: quite small as yet, standing a mere four or five inches high, with dark green stems and curious little red thorns. But she knew better than to voice such a reaction. The first-and last-time she had doubted the necessity of keeping a check on any and every intrusive plant, Grandfather had taken her by the ear and marched her around the dome to the point from which the pullulating miniature jungle within the Station could be most clearly seen. There he had stopped. He had said, “Once those were harmless-looking seeds!”

That was one lesson of Grandfather’s which she had never needed to revise.

“What ought we to do about it, then?” Keefe inquired.

“Nestamay, what are your assigned duties this morning?” Grandfather said, turning.

“Uh-well, it’s my watch-night tonight. So I’m on half-day general assistance.”

“Perfect. Keefe, get this plant of yours out on a stand at the mouth of Channel Nine-about two o’clock of the dome. Nestamay, make the rounds of the community. Everyone is to have a sight of this plant within the next hour. I mean everyone, down to and including toddling children. But particularly I want to make sure that there’s no infection in the hydroponic trays, so call there first. All free-day worker adults are to report to Keefe and study the plant and conduct a ground-search for any further specimens. Begin on the trail of the East Brokes thing, and work outwards in a fan-pattern. Send that little girl with the good sketching talent here to me so she can draw the anomalous micro-features and we can file them for reference, and tell her that she’ll be wanted to draw the thing in vivo as well.”

Nestamay nodded. “That’s-uh-Danianel you want to do the sketching, right?”

“Yes. Well, don’t just sit there! Get moving!”

When they heard the news, most people sighed and shrugged and accepted the necessity of doing as Grandfather ordered. There were a few half-hearted objections, naturally; Egrin, sweating as always in the humid environment demanded by the hydroponic trays, wiped his face and snarled, “If the old fool thinks I could have overlooked a strange plant in my own trays he must be crazy!” But even he, after boiling off his annoyance, went compliantly to study the specimen and memorise its characteristics for future reference.

It wasn’t until she had completed her round of the community that Nestamay realised she had not yet located and spoken to Jasper.

Frowning, she wondered where she could have missed him. She had called at his family’s hovel, she had notified the chief of the party with which he usually worked … Where could he have got to?

She went in search of one of his kinfolk, and found his mother returning from her dutiful trip to inspect the plant and listen to Keefe.

“Where’s Jasper?” Nestamay demanded. “I haven’t told him yet.”

“It’s his free-day,” Jasper’s mother countered.

“So?” Nestamay was impatient. “I know that-I’ve spoken with people from his working party. But Grandfather said I was to tell absolutely everyone, and I particularly don’t want to leave out Jasper because-”

“I know why not!” his mother rasped. “If I’d known our genes were going to tie him down to the choice of you for a mate, I’d have chosen differently myself!”