Penelope Armed

By Margaret Taint

Summary of

Penelope Armed



Penelope is a resident of a city-state that has survived 2000 years by remaining invisible to other races and military states of humankind. The people of this time and place have evolved into a species of post-human who are sexually colorated and polymorphously perverse. Their post-historical lives are paradisial, but they face the possibility of extinction because of the non-orgasmic nature of their sexual relationships. On a geological survey, Penelope and two associates are captured by Indians, who are descendants of people from an ancient country named Indiana. Penelope is married to a Hunter; then she wages a one-woman war against an army of Indians and has many strange adventures getting back to the city in the sky, only to discover after her return that she is no longer acceptable in paradise.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 6, 2007
• ISBN: 9781465326089

Book preview

1. CAPTURE

T he makers called me Clark Gable in their amusement

with me. They took a perverse pleasure in programming a sensual male voice into me, who am immortal. It was a thousand years before I learned the meaning of the pronoun I. I have retained the imagination of the makers, but their posterity has evolved into rational, unimaginative beings. As their imagination atrophied, their capacity for evil decreased, and a utopia was the result. They live by law; I still contain the dreams and visions of history.

Smith was excited. He had seen a flying machine only once before in his life, and no one had believed him when he had told them about it. Now here it was, dropped right into his hands, as it seemed, come from the mythical land of the sky, dropping right down onto the wasteland on the edge of their territory where no one else would care to go. And it was probably manned by the brown devils his grandfather had told him about. No telling what kind of magical weapons they had.

They tethered their horses in the forest a fair distance away, then walked forward to where they could see the machine sitting like a big bug on four extended legs among broken and wind-deformed pines. The men were as nervous as the horses. Smith had to push and prod them into their places and hush them up so that the three figures that had just alit from the machine would not hear them above the moan of the wind. He himself was so nervous he jumped around like a little banty hen, but it was not in the fear and suspicion his men felt; he was simply overjoyed at the opportunity he had waited for all his life, to see the people from the legendary City in the Sky—and maybe even to fight them.

The three figures that had alit from the machine were no larger than human beings, but very slim. They walked purposively away from their craft and over the brow of a hill. Smith positioned three of his men with shields and lances in front of the machine and prodded the rest of them into hiding behind nearby trees, their bows and arrows at the ready, and Armstrong, the man with the firestick, he instructed to climb a tree. He had to pause for a moment to examine the machine before hiding himself.

It had begun to buzz as soon as they had come up, like it was trying to warn them off, or maybe it was somehow sending a secret message to someone, not loud enough for the creatures who had gone over the hill. There didn’t seem to be anyone else inside of it. It had two windows in front with things over them like brows over eyes. A square of the side had folded down to become a steep sort of stairway into the interior of it. Smith intended to go up into it to look around, after it was safe to do so, and the prospect excited him beyond belief.

He hid himself in a thicket of mayberries and waited. Every one was utterly silent as they would be in a hunt; only the moan of the wind could be heard. Anderson, standing between the flying bug and the as yet invisible aliens was especially nervous. They all three looked at Smith as if wondering about his sanity, but they were too well trained to be disobedient to their senior. They were the bait, and perhaps they were to be the victims of Smith’s scheme.

When the aliens reappeared, walking casually around the brow of a small hill, they were at first too involved in their conversation to notice the presence of the three young Indians, who were now trying to make themselves invisible behind their large shields.

Smith watched the sky people carefully. They did not appear dangerous, but they had holsters on their belts that might contain magic guns of some kind, and sure enough, as soon as they caught sight of the guards, they drew the weapons, things all covered with wires.

There was no sound. A shield bounced away from its owner. A second youth collapsed as if his legs had been cut away from under him. The third couched his lance as if trying to decide whether to throw it or charge with it. Then he fell forward on his face.

Then it was all over. The hunters, who had circled around behind, cast their nets, and the aliens fell to their knees struggling against the heavy folds of the trapping seines. Even here an invisible discharge from one of the weapons knocked a hunter off his feet, but nevertheless it was now easy enough to relieve them of the weapons, and bind them up on the ground, wrapping them around with the nets.

Smith should have felt guilty about the sacrifice of three of his youngsters whose care and training had been entrusted to him, but he was too elated to think about it. Now was his chance to get inside the mysterious machine. He waited just a moment to be sure it was safe, then trotted forward.

But already, of its own accord, the ladder and door of the machine were withdrawing. It was clicking like a locust. Then suddenly the legs, too, folded up into the underside of the fuselage, and the whole machine hung there in the air effortlessly as if it had never needed the legs anyway. Smith ran toward it. It moved off and hung above a tree, just an arrow-shot away.

Someone was still inside, operating it, Smith reasoned, and that person, or whatever, did not want to leave without his crew. Well, he would keep his hostages until he got to see what he wanted to see. And perhaps more.

One of the captives spoke from under a net, not to the hunters, but to the machine, and the men glanced back and forth, half-expecting the flying machine to answer. The voice was tinny with a strange inflection: Or-con-sta-tion-out.

The three youths who had withstood the brunt of the attack were stirring about. Kirkland had taken the worst of it, and his two comrades tended him where he sat in the dirt, his head down.

A hunter handed one the weapons taken from the aliens to Smith. It was glassy, with tubes around its barrel, and light in weight. Smith pointed it up and pressed the trigger. It seemed to pulse a little, but nothing happened. He stuck it in his thigh pocket.

Get one of these critters up, so we can take a look at him, he said.

Jones and Mather rolled one over a couple of times, disentangling the net, and then pulled him, as it seemed, to his feet, holding him firmly by the arms. The creature wore a blouse, tights, and shoes that were something like boots and something like slippers. Silky honey-brown hair fell without a part or a curve to the shoulders. The tights contoured to the skin underneath, so Smith’s eyes were drawn to the curve of the pudendum between the legs. He put his hand there, then felt of the chest. The creature’s mouth opened in a moan, and blue eyes squinted into Smith’s.

Well, it ain’t a man. What is it, a boy or a girl? There seems nothing there to show it one way or the other.

Smith sighed with exasperation. This was not the black devil from the sky that legend told of. Her skin was fair, her eyes were liquid blue in the sunlight, and her hair brown. She was taller than most Indian women, but not so very different.

She’s just an ordinary woman, Jones said, looking closely at her, but a mighty pretty one.

2. THE BRIEFING

I am as a God immobilized among these people. My

law, given me by Glorius, they put ahead of me. They lack imagination. Even the power of reproduction falls into my hands, though they cannot understand what they do not have. Great civilizations assimilate the best of other civilizations, but all else has become invisible to these people. Thus it was necessary for me to author Penelope. I am her author, her God, and her father, but she does not know what her language cannot express.

Arriving late for the briefing, Penelope the Armorer found her two conferrers, Naomi and Carmen, waiting patiently for her in the council room. She kissed Naomi affectionately on her forehead and sat down next to Carmen. In such circumstances, decorum required her to pay homage to the eldest, as if she were the more attractive.

Forestalling an apology, Naomi immediately remarked that as this was not a council meeting, but only a briefing conference, they need not stand on ceremony. I have asked for your presence here to schedule you for standard operating procedures concerning certain minor issues that may affect the well-being of Emmess. With the assistance of Orcon, these are procedures standardized in the law of Glorius.

Seated on opposite sides of the conference table, the three soldierly females had only to turn their heads to look at the screen that covered most of one wall of the room. This wall was the face of Orcon, the fourth participant in the meeting. The council building was shaped as a pentagon with offices and council rooms abutting the computer complex in its center. As she spoke, Naomi glanced at the wall as if to get its approval.

To Penelope she said, It is also an opportunity to get better acquainted with you, as I have few occasions, since I became Magistrate, of seeing you. The position of Armorer does not require much input into City affairs. It is an obsolescent position, and we always wish it were not necessary. Invisibility is better defense than weaponry.

Penelope started to remonstrate. It was true that she had very few duties, and as a result, a lot of time on her hands, but she felt that the importance of her position in the system should not be underestimated. There might be an occasion sometime, some day, when the safety of all of the people would be her responsibility alone, although she could not imagine how such an occasion might arise, or exactly what it would be that she would do.

But Naomi stopped her before she could defend herself. I’m sorry to have gone into this so awkwardly. All I’m trying to say is that you have been chosen for this duty because you have the time for it. Let me get to the point, now.

Penelope smiled graciously.

Orcon and I will brief you, Naomi continued, concerning minor issues that may have some repercussions in the future. After that I will hear input from you concerning these issues. Then I will explain your mission.

Naomi paused, tapping her fingers on the table. She looked quizzically toward the wall, apparently trying to decide which of them should begin the explanation. As an experienced bureaucrat, she enjoyed giving informational speeches, especially when she could resort to rather pompous bureaucrateze. At last, pompously she began her speech.

The issues that Emmessians confront at any one time are simple and easily resolved, yet I believe that I must keep you informed of conditions as they develop. You, as well as I, are guardians of the Place. As you know, also, one of your functions is as liaison to the outer world as a way of keeping us prepared for any minor crisis that may develop. Preparation makes any crisis minor. You, Carmen, as a geologist, have the responsibility of understanding the geology of the surrounding area, in the remote chance that we may someday have to draw upon the resources of the outer world. That will be the time when our evolution will cease and our history begin, Glorius forbid. And you, Penelope, are an expert in armament, against the unlikely possibility that some primitive anthropoid might sometime bring an unexpectedly sophisticated weapon against us. At such a time, unlikely as it is, we will rely on you to produce a new, powerful war weapon to support the simple hand weaponry and the more complicated weapons of illusion that we now employ.

Out of the corner of her eye, Penelope examined the straight lines of Carmen’s body and the soft colors of her face. Although there was little difference in the physical appearance of individual Emmessians, Carmen could be said to be at least an outstanding representative of the species. Her honey blonde hair, glittering eyes, red lips, pink cheeks, and hard, straight body were altogether a landscape of aesthetic delight. Penelope fancied herself kissing those soft red lips and caressing that firm, muscular belly.

You, therefore, Naomi continued, occupy peculiar positions in the social structure of the city, awaiting events which we hope will never occur.

Penelope had known Carmen somewhere, sometime before, when Carmen was just emerging from adolescence into apprenticeship; she had not been so attractive a person then.

Naomi turned toward the wall that housed the complicated machinery of Orcon. Now, if I may bring Orcon into the discussion. A large picture map of the governed world—that part of the planet considered relevant to Emmessian affairs—had already appeared on the screen there. The map, created by scanner rays, clearly showed the outlines of the Michigan Sea, its surrounding forest areas, desert lands, and the geological features of hill country to the west and southwest. In the lower right hand corner of the picture, a yellow spot designated the place of the City, an isolated paradise in a cosmos of alien forces.

A line appeared on the screen, extending west northwest from the City and intersecting another line under the Michigan Sea. The voice of Orcon seemed to come from under the conference table. Radiation from point 291 degrees, 367 kilometers, is erratic.

Naomi said, Our scanners have always reported the location of this point of radiation, but it has become eccentric in the last week, increasing and decreasing in intensity.

Carmen, who had been silent, almost sullen, until this moment, leaned forward with interest, watching the point on the screen intently. Yes, I know of that. It is buried under the dunes out there. Probably some energy source abandoned by a previous civilization. Through the centuries it has burned its way deeply into the Earth’s inner layers.

Naomi continued, We don’t know whether it will grow to become a threat to us, or whether it is merely destroying itself, like a dying star.

Orcon said, The object of radiation must be examined at close range.

In each of the several times Penelope had held conference with Orcon, she had never failed to be irritated by his voice. Orcon was the oldest machine in Emmess, a self-repairing and self-sufficient magneto-electronic complex that monitored all the operations of the city, so complicated that there were now few, if any, technicians that fully understood his circuitry. His voice had been programmed at a time before computers were given female voices, so far back in time that no one could say with assurance that he belonged to the Age of the Superhuman. But it was not the flat, baritone maleness of Orcon’s voice that irritated Penelope. Something more than that in the expression of his words that could only be called tone, the unconscious tone of authority and self-righteousness, made Penelope feel uneasy, or challenged, in his presence.

How pleasurable! Carmen said. We shall have a little voyage to the outer limits of our knowledge. Penelope and I can take a picnic lunch.

Naomi smiled patronizingly at her. But there is also another situation that we must investigate. It seems that we have anthropoid tribes also.

On the screen, an orange area along the western outline of the Michigan Sea appeared, designating human habitation, with spots of color further south and west, like outposts. For some centuries, the mellifluous voice of Orcon said, the population of Indians has been increasing. They have migrated from the north; they are exploring the western plains; and they have penetrated into the Michigan Forest. They are not dangerous at present. They must be monitored carefully as it may become necessary to destroy them.

Now, Orcon, Naomi remonstrated, ‘destroyed’ is perhaps too strong a word. Our policy is to destroy only when negenecological organisms blunder into our zone of life.

Perhaps, the more sanguine Penelope said, a few energy blasts among their outposts would curb their movement in this direction.

On the other hand, Carmen said, it might be best simply to remain invisible to them for the time being.

Invisibility is the best weapon, Naomi agreed.

As they are advancing rapidly in technology, Orcon said, they represent a danger wherever they are.

As they are still at a barbaric stage of history, it is unlikely that they have any technology to speak of, Penelope said.

Scanners indicate energy-driven industry in this settlement on the Michigan Sea, Orcon said. Another line appeared on the screen extending from the City to a point on the western outline of the Sea.

There are vast deposits of ferro-cement in that area, the geologist said.

However, Orcon said, their technology is not a danger at present. Evidence is that they are dependent on horse transportation.

Horse? Penelope asked.

A beast of burden that we had thought extinct, Naomi said.

The threat that this particular species of humankind offers is of a different nature, Orcon continued.

What?

They reproduce at a geometric rate. At their present rate of increase, the over-running of the Place will become a historical necessity within 124 years.

The Emmessian females were quieted and saddened by this information. They were aware that the one weakness of their position was the decline of their own number; they foresaw for themselves in the remote future an evolutionary dead end that might be the final victory of history over freedom, yet they were helpless to do anything about it. Dratted history, Penelope said lamely.

A consideration for decision-making, Orcon continued, is the possibility that they can reproduce themselves faster than our weaponry can control them.

We will need new designs of weaponry, Penelope said hopefully.

Why have they not appeared in large numbers before? Carmen asked.

Internecine wars, disease, ignorance, the usual balancing forces of history, Orcon said. But they have now brought these problems somewhat under control.

They are, in fact, history catching up with us again, Naomi said. She composed herself as if to start another one of her speeches, and Penelope sighed. We have survived for millennia by avoiding intercourse with history-making primates. So long as we can resist the social and genetic influences of human history, we can keep our own little paradise functioning as beautifully as ever, regardless of the problem of a declining population. That is a rule that is repeated throughout our knowledge banks. We cannot go wrong if we continue to keep the principle in mind. As Magistrate, my role is little more than to enforce and apply the rule whenever any problem arises.

History teaches bad habits, Penelope said, repeating a maxim she had learned in primary school.

The aphorism is a rule of safety, the baritone voice intoned. Unadaptability can be a defense under some conditions. The super human, however, should be capable of a larger view—

Naomi glared at a small, blue-lighted lens on the right of the screen. Thank you for your participation in this discussion, Orcon. We will not need any more information from you.

"The word super should be reprogrammed to connote decadence as well as superiority."

Enough. The wall went blank.

I must apologize for Orcon, Naomi said, speaking directly to Penelope. He grows irascible in his old age. He would have us believe that his judgments should have more weight than the rule of Glorius. Making personal judgments, however, leads to too much exercise of imagination.

She glanced at Carmen, then gave her full attention to Penelope again, making it obvious whom she thought in need of instruction. There are two things, as you probably know, that fund the policy-making decisions of the City organization. The first is the law as it was established by the founders ever so long ago, and the second is the mechanical wisdom of our master computer. The first must always have precedence over the second. Orcon we are grateful to for the wisdom accumulated through the centuries that makes life balanced and fulfilling for us. He is the Spirit of Place, and within the bounds of law, we defer to him. The source of much personal irritation to me is that, in his antiquity, he pontificates too much. He seems to believe himself some sort of philosopher in his old age and makes a nuisance of himself generalizing imaginatively on inessential subjects. The Rule of Glorius is our philosophy. We have no need of any other.

Naomi stood up and began pacing back and forth on her side of the table. It is Orcon’s decision to have you spy on the tribesmen while undertaking a routine data collection. I do not like becoming visible to them. Therefore, I want you only to skirt around the outposts of their primitive civilization. If you must be seen, reveal your vehicle only to a few of them. Our experience indicates that most of them will not believe stories about flying objects. We do not want to excite their curiosity in order to satisfy ours.

Carmen said, It is an unusual assignment as we do not often venture so far afield.

Penelope asked, When shall we leave?

On the third day. A reconnaissance craft is being prepared for you now. There will be one other person accompanying you.

Who?

Sharon the Librarian. She will go merely as an observer. I will be interested in hearing her reactions when she returns, as she has an unhealthy interest in subhumans.

Penelope winced with disappointment. Of all the twenty thousand or more adults in Emmess, Sharon was the only one she didn’t like. The musty, bespectacled Sharon locked herself up with her knowledge banks for days on end and dabbled in the forbidden subject matter of history. After all of what you have been saying, I should think Sharon would be the last person in the Place to choose for any practical purpose.

It is Orcon’s decision, Naomi said simply.

Penelope stood up, as it appeared that the conference was coming to an end. She will be a nuisance. For a brief moment, an image floated in her mind’s eye of Carmen and herself caressing each other with Sharon nearby, observing them with disgust.

You, Penelope, will go to her and extend the invitation, Naomi said firmly.

They had come around the table and stood in front of the door. Penelope took Naomi’s hand and pressed it to her chest. Isn’t there someone else we could consider?

Carmen smiled.

Penelope is in command, Naomi said, withdrawing her hand. Carmen will pilot, and Sharon will be passenger. Now you must go.

3. THE TEACHERS COMPOUND.

O nce outside the Control Building, Penelope decided

to walk the short distance to the Library, rather than take the automated train.

It was a beautiful afternoon in May. The sun shone brightly through the great elm trees of the walkway.

She rarely lost an opportunity to get exercise; keeping her body in an attractive shape had great priority with her. But also she needed the few extra minutes to prepare herself for an encounter with Sharon. Sharon the Librarian, who was really, as everyone knew, Sharon the historian, dabbled in useless, and therefore, forbidden knowledge. So Orcon had selected three nonproductive personnel to go on a liaison flight that, in a sense, would carry them back into history. What was it Naomi had said about history? History teaches us bad habits. No, she herself had said that. It was a principle established by the sexual-racial-ecological Revolution ages before. Every school child learned of the events and principles of that great occasion, but nothing of the time before or after. How long ago had that Revolution occurred? A millennia—or two or three? She did not know, because chronological records were not kept. The computers recorded genetic, ecological, and technological data, but not events. History belonged to the period before the Revolution; evolution to the period subsequent.

Emmess was most beautiful at that time of year when Spring was about to turn into summer. The temperature control