Flytrap by Piers Anthony Page A

dangers.
    Bunky bleated. Vulture and Python left the boat, flying and swimming, returning not long after with fruits that were floating in the water. Several trips produced enough for the humans, and the Ewe also ate a pear-apple that Mona held in place for her. So things were working out.
    They spent the night in the center of the lake, and resumed travel in the morning. The level of the water was lower, and more of the forest was appearing as the land drained. Mona hoped they got to the sea before the river became unnavigable; she didn't want to hike cross-country through the devastation left by the flood.
    Around midday the river ended. It simply fed into a swamp with no discernible outlet. Mona groaned internally.
    “I recognize this bog,” Brian said. “It's just a few miles from home. We can hike there in a couple of hours.”
    Mona felt weak with relief. That, at least, she could do.
    Sure enough, by mid-afternoon they were back at the turnip farm,which it turned out had not been struck by the storm. The mission was over.
    Mona and Brian retreated to their house and slept for much of the next day and night, recovering from the physical and emotional rigors of the excursion to the inland sea. Bunky, Vulture, and Python took care of themselves, remaining in touch with the Ewe. Elasa spent time communing with Venus in the pot.
    When Mona resumed alertness, Elasa braced her for a serious discussion. “I can't take Venus to Earth with me,” she said. “I had hoped to do it by exchange with a potted Venus Flytrap plant on Earth, but I realize that won't work. Exchange is of consciousness and memory, and the plant has neither. That has to be the caveat the sheep had in mind. In any event, exchanging is temporary, not lasting much beyond six months for a person, maybe less for a plant. I need it to be permanent, at least to the extent of the life of the plant. Maybe by close association with sheep or humans she could develop an emulation; that remains to be seen. But I am not sufficient. Her telepathic projection does not work on me; to her I am a blank slate. So I think this is one more thing you will have to do.”
    “This is awkward,” Mona said. “I don't pick up her projections either; all I see is a blob of mist.”
    “That is her projection. It's their standard concealment broadcast, so that unwanted animals don't orient on them. They use the water for protection; their stalks are vulnerable, and they project them from the water only to feed. Venus is especially vulnerable in the exposed pot, and is in hiding mode, trying to survive. She needs reassurance I can't provide.”
    “And I can? She'll go after Brian!”
    “Yes you can and no she won't. You're living and feeling, and no, the bone I added to the soil provides the nourishment she needs. She is not in seduction mode, and I think Brian will see only the mist too. Only if that added nutrition is removed will she become dangerous in that manner.”
    “It still makes me nervous. Elasa, I was jealous of the sex you had with the male vamps; I could see them . In my mind I resented you. I hated the way Brian looked at you. I am ashamed of that tawdry feeling now, and blame it on the stress of the occasion. I apologize to you now for that. But I am not a fit companion for that vicious plant.”
    “You know I am a fembot, an emancipated sex machine. Sex is nothing to me. Friendship is everything. Your friendship.”
    “I know. But somehow I wanted to be the one fornicating with those handsome men. I even resented my pregnancy, in that moment.”
    “The pheromones were affecting you, as they did not affect me.”
    “That's true,” Mona agreed, in retrospect seeing the obvious. “They had the same effect on me that the hormones of the female vamps had on Brian. Elasa, its really potent stuff. I don't want to be exposed to it again.”
    “But Mona, that's what I need you for now! You can relate to Venus in a way I can't. Because you can respond to her