Flytrap Read Free

Brian split kindling for the stove. It wasn't any gourmet delight, but he had the wit to praise it. After the meal she washed the dishes in a basin of hot water. Primitive, yes, but comfortable.
    “This—with you—I don't know what to make of it,” he said.
    She knew how to deal with his natural doubt. “I'm going to make love to you, my way, including kissing. Are you saying no?”
    “No! I mean--”
    “I know what you mean. Relax and enjoy it.”
    He did, and she did. This time he participated more fully.
    “I understand that Shep and Elen did a music tour to pay their way,” she said. “We should carry on with that, but I'm not sure I can do my part. I'm not a trained singer.”
    “Maybe Elen's folks can help you,” he said diplomatically.
    “I hope so.”
    When darkness came, they shared the bed, sleeping together without awkwardness.
    Next day Mona got serious about her agenda. “I need to get close to the sheep. Maybe Elen's folks will help with that too.”
    “Maybe,” Brian agreed. “I know the way to their village.”
    The Vulture and Python accompanied them. Word must have gone ahead, because Elen's family was expecting them. Erasmus and his wife Elsa stood at their door. She had dark waist-length hair, like her daughter. They were not friendly, and made no indication that the visitors should enter the house. “We know you are not them,” Erasmus said gruffly.
    “We are not,” Mona agreed. “I am Mona Maverick, of Earth. This is Brian Peterson, of Colony Jones. We are maintaining the relationship that Shep and Elen had, to the extent we are able. I would like to have your help.”
    “We do not approve,” Elsa said.
    “For the sake of appearances, and for the baby. It is better to have its genetic parents together throughout.”
    “The baby,” Elsa repeated, softening. But her husband remained unyielding.
    “I am here to study the precognition of the sheep,” Mona said doggedly. “I believe that you understand them better than Brian's folks do. Please--”
    “Please depart,” Erasmus said.
    Mona met his gaze, applying her lawyer mode. “If something should happen, such as the shutdown of the student exchange program, your daughter will be left with this man, though she does not love him. He is nevertheless worthy. You need to get to know him. His body will be in your future as your grandchild grows.”
    Elsa wavered visibly, then glanced at her husband, and remained silent.
    This was difficult. Mona decided to play her trump card. “Brian, play for them.”
    “They don't want music!” he protested. “We are being offensive. We should go.”
    “Sheep May Safely Graze.”
    He did not try to oppose her further. He lifted the mirliton and played. Mona saw that both parents were impressed by the way Brian obeyed her wish. They knew she had control, and that their daughter would retain it.
    The melody took hold and transformed the very atmosphere as its competence manifested. Mona saw that other elf villagers within hearing were pausing to listen. No one with even the faintest appreciation of music could fail to respond. How well she understood! It had made her love Brian.
    The older elves were visibly impressed. The lovely music held them speechless until the end.
    “You are better than Shep,” Erasmus said, amazed.
    “Brian is the musician,” Mona said. “Shep merely borrowed some of his talent. As I hope to borrow some of your daughter's talent for singing. With your help. I'm untrained in that respect.”
    “Come in,” Elsa said, fading back into her house.
    They entered. The Vulture and Python elected politely to remain outside.
    Inside they were more comfortable. “Please help me get in touch with the sheep,” Mona said.
    “We can't directly help you,” Erasmus said, no longer aloof. “If the sheep want to know you, they will arrange it. It is their initiative, not yours. This is the way it is.”
    “Trust the sheep,” Elsa agreed.
    “But--”
    “It is the only