Behold a Dark Mirror (34 page)

Lucretia, dazed, her mouth agape, forced her splayed hand off her chest.  Primus said, "How many people know about this?"

"I don't know," Nero said.

"All of us in this room, at least," Kebe said.  Everybody turned to her.  "You had courage standing up in that crowd."

"I feel responsible for what happened tonight,"  Primus said.

"What's done, is done.  I pulled the trigger,"  Kebe stated.

"Yes.  However..."  Primus said.

Kebe looked at him.

"...this may become messy, and loyalty will be important.  I want you to know you have mine."

Kebe nodded.  "We share a cause now, Primus."

"I'm not sure I know your cause, but we walk the same road," Primus said.

"I heard rumors that you could do that," Lucretia said to Nero.  "You really are the Magician!"

Nero answered,  "I never kept it a secret."

"Is that prudent?"  Primus said.

"No," said Jenus.

"It was necessary at the time," Nero said.

"If we make it work, you'll be a Messiah,"  Primus said.  "Not just for Virgil, but for mankind."

"I don't have ambitions of divinity, Primus.  Like you, I want peace.  I won't find it until I finish my job."

"Which is?"  Primus said.

"Teaching everyone to do what I just did, for a start."

Jenus said, holding Kebe's hand,  "Primus, Lucretia:  we'll meet here after dawn to make arrangements."  Jenus helped Kebe up, and they walked away.

CHAPTER 37

The basement of the solar furnace was poorly lit; only an occasional light globe shone along the gangway.  Kebe walked on, into the penumbra, toward the next light.  The skin on her belly was taut.  She'd be a mama, and she had killed again.  One week had gone by and her victim's laughter still rang in her ears.  Puddles of mud littered the floor.  Concrete walls framed the corridor edges.  Jenus's lab had been harder to hide than expected, but so far the operation had been successful.

She stepped through a side door into a black room, turned her flashlight on.  She checked the power line feeding the lab, carefully tucked into a crevice of the concrete.  To operate the doorbell, she stepped on the pressure sensor in the floor and waited, pointing the flashlight at her face for identification.  With a clank the door opened.

"Come in, Kebe," Jenus said, pulling the door behind them.  "What brings you here?"  Primus and Lucretia looked at her.  Their eyes seemed to say,
What are you doing here, you could slip, this is no place for a pregnant woman.

"I'd like to know why I had to kill a man," Kebe said.  "I need no moral justification;  but I'd like to know what you are doing here—what's up."

"I could have explained it to you at home," Jenus said.

"Yes, daddy, I know;  but I prefer live action."  She looked around.  "I haven't seen this place in a long time."

The lab room was rough.  Laminated tables carried tools and equipment.  Several water canisters sat on a high stilt, with tubes growing from them.  Two bottles fed a gas line to a burner.  Other pieces of hardware, some stolen, some smuggled, were in sight.  Precious new equipment was still boxed.  Kebe had helped procure the instrumentation and could recognize some of it, but didn't have a clue what it was for.  She noticed a cellular network node attached to a monolithic computer;  next to it, a refrigerated shelf held rows of small glass boxes, each filled with samples.

"Did you crack the secret of catjuice yet?"  she said, looking at the tiny glass boxes.

"No," answered Jenus.  "But we know more every day.  We'll get there.  Primus has a wildcard up his sleeve.  Primus, can you take a break and explain?"

Primus turned his head to look.  He dropped his work, walked over to Kebe, and pulled up a chair.  "Sure," he said to Kebe.

Lucretia broke off and came to join the group.

"Miz Kebe," Primus began, "I imagine you know that we're trying to produce...
catjuice
," he looked at the group.  "Should we call it
catjuice
then?  Yes, produce it in quantity.  We also need to understand if it is toxic.  We'd like to study why it works, but there's no time for that.  Jenus laid good groundwork.  He came to a point where he had questions to answer beyond his area of expertise.  Maybe he told you already."

Kebe shook her head.  "We never talk about this."

Primus nodded, looking at Jenus.

Jenus said,  "Catjuice is a messy hodgepodge—very complex."  He smiled at Kebe.  "All the time I've spent in here I've tried to figure how it's put together.  I now have a good grasp of its structure;  the closest thing to it is an artificial proto-virus that...  Oh, well, that's another story.  I could replicate most of it, in pieces, but I couldn't put the pieces back together.  Maddening.  Then about three weeks ago a thought struck me:  Is this a relative of a proto-viral gelatin?  Maybe catjuice is alive!  Not as you or Primus are alive, not even like a plant.  More like a seed, but that's still a bad comparison.  I knew if it was alive there was only so much I could do.  I needed help—the best I could get," he said, looking at Primus.

Primus said:  "Jenus is right, Miz Kebe:  Catjuice is alive.  We should not replicate it by synthesis; that would be too difficult."  He looked around at lab and equipment, shaking his head, "way too difficult."

Kebe said,  "You mean we've lost?  We can't do it?"

"Oh, no, no, Miz Kebe:  We should grow it!  Farming it could be incredibly easy, once we found out how to make it happen.  I think it might be done in a kitchen!"

"In a kitchen!"  Kebe eyes lit up.  "How?"

"That's what Jenus and I are trying to find out."

"Sounds like it’ll take years," she said, her chin drooping.

"Maybe not," said Primus.

She looked through Primus's eyes into his soul.  He wasn't lying, he wasn't giving her the comfort speech.  He meant it.

"Tell me," she said.

"I have only one kidney, Miz Kebe.  My left kidney cavity is filled with a 700-gram molecular computer."

She looked at him with a look of puzzlement.

"I spent many, many years at
Electric Life
leading the development of a breakthrough tool that was about ready to go when the Purge started.  When
Electric Life
realized what was happening, we decided to hide our research.  My team had produced an infinite state automaton synthesizer.  We coded it in a molecular DNA array.  I and five others had it implanted."

"I still don't understand," Kebe said, shaking her head.

"Infinite state automaton is jargon for digital life form.  Some automata are primitive, like the agents you use to search databases.  Some are more complex—very complex:  My synthesizer can create many forms of digital life.  Such a breakthrough was unparalleled, and now all research is banned."

"How is this going to help us?"

"Well, it can work in reverse.  If fed a smart automaton, the synthesizer can tell you what it does—within limits.  If we find a way to feed it catjuice, it may tell us how to grow it."

Kebe whispered,  "This is wonderful!"

"Yes, Miz Kebe.  The algorithm for the synthesizer is large.  An organic array was the only way to smuggle it—my kidney is a small price to pay."  He smiled.  "In any war," he said, "it matters not who wins;  it matters who survives."

Kebe stood up, took Primus by the hand and hugged him, resting her head on his shoulder.  The tear that slipped from her eye wet his shirt.  Primus held her in a fatherly embrace, his head crowned with white, his eyes watering.

"Thank you," he said.  "I thought I wanted only peace:  I was wrong.  It's easy to miss life when you live in fear.  All men die, few men really live, and I'm not yet one of either."

"I'm happy," she answered.

"Miz Kebe:  Lucretia, too, has something to tell you," Primus said.  "She's been trying to determine if catjuice is toxic."

Lucretia stood up, straightening her clothes.

"Do I have something to tell you, Kebe, indeed I do.  Primus said we're figuring out if catjuice is toxic, rather than how it works.  Good enough, yet you can't do the former unless you understand a bit of the latter;  so I started looking for clues in Nero.  I didn't need to go far to find strange things."

"His blood—"  Kebe said.

“Is totally weird."  Lucretia finished.  "I did more tests—and repeated them, because I couldn’t believe what I found.  I thought I'd made a mistake.  Well, over and over, same result.  Oh, it's unthinkable."

"Please tell me—is he in danger?"

"I don't know;  he doesn't seem to be.  In danger?  In danger of what?  We should redefine danger, here, I guess."

"What's the problem?"  Kebe said.

"See, my genome, yours, Jenus's...  Even Primus's, in part, except for his kidney," she smiled, "is made up of 23 pairs of chromosomes.  Your baby takes 23 chromosomes from you, and 23 from Jenus, for a total of 23 pairs.  That's how your baby'll get your cute smile, green eyes and leadership overdrive, and Jenus's good taste and red hair."  Lucretia cocked her head, puckered her mouth:  "Don't worry, I'm just guessing."

"So?"

"Well, Nero's genome has 24 pairs.  Yes ma'am:  23 autosomes and the XY pair, two-four pairs.  He's not human—not any more, at least, even if he once was.  He couldn't have a child with me if he wanted, so to speak."  She winked at Kebe.  "Or with any human female.  Regardless of his current appearance," she collapsed on a stool, "he's no more human than, oh, say—your average dolphin maybe?"

CHAPTER 38

The desert hadn't changed:  Nero had returned to the black-bladed bushes.  Scattered plants lay in front of him, dotting a vast expanse of baked red sand.  The air was dry and parching;  the water bottle he had brought wouldn't last long;  his hat was hot to the touch already.

Lucretia had asked for more of the black blades;  she really believed there was another miracle hiding in the leathery leaves.  Nero approached a bush and collected some to bring back.  He was careful not to burn himself.  Once the black blade was rolled up in a ribbon, Nero looked around to observe once more his surroundings.

What drove me here the first time?

His gift, Nero admitted, was worrisome.  To a degree he could control it;  but if the changes were as radical as Lucretia had explained to him, who could tell about side effects?  Maybe one of these days he'd wake up in a cocoon, transforming into a Cheshire;  the thought was too real to be funny.

He realized there was a presence behind him.  He turned to see nothing but wavering overheated air.  Remembering his experience at the tomato farm, he drank a few gulps from his bottle and sat, concentrating to induce the early stage of a trip.  The ground he sat on was blistering, even through the fabric of his thick clothing;  and concentration was difficult.  Nero wondered if he'd put himself once more in a deadly situation.  But then, his trance set on, and his perception was confirmed:  Two Ghosts lingered in midair next to him.

Now what?
  he wondered.

One of the two moved right in front of him, maybe an inch away from his nose.  Nero deliberately moved one hand toward the creature, closer and closer.  The Ghost didn't flinch, as if it was waiting for Nero's move.  Nero's hand traced the foggy image.  With the palm Nero probed it—he touched it.  What felt like a mild electric shock ripped through his hand, persisting after the initial sensation as a tingle that reached up into his forearm and shoulder.  The Ghost was immobile, as if nothing had happened; or as if it made enormous efforts to cooperate.

Nero pushed his hand deeper into the Ghost.  The tingle became so intense his forearm became numb;  it crawled slowly up his limbs, reaching past his shoulder and chest, up his neck to his ear and head.  His vision blurred.  A confusion of meaningless images and colors took over his thoughts.  Random patterns of mystifying nonsense wrapped him with absorbing intensity.

And then, an image he recognized—for an instant, he saw himself sitting near a large boulder, surrounded by Ghosts.  Incomprehensible figures and patterns streamed into his head.  Nero felt his control slipping.  He retracted his hand and saw reality through his natural eyes.  He tried to snap the fingers of the numb hand, but his flesh didn't respond.  So he tried the other hand—no sound, he was still in a trance.

The Ghost was still in front of him.  Nero felt weaker and weaker.  He feared that if he exited his trance, he'd not be able to achieve it again—he'd not be able to return to civilization.  He decided, at the risk of appearing rude, to jump back.

As he thought so, he realized he'd teleported to the thicket of widow's fans next to the tomato farm.  Nobody was in sight, and he let himself go.

He lay on the ground exhausted, thirsty, hot, the left upper half of his body too numb to move.  After a long time he found the strength to pick himself up.  He approached the farm shack and drained from the dispenser enough water to quench his thirst.  His left forearm and hand were still unusable, but the shoulder was aching and recovering.

*

"This is," Nero said to Lucretia, "another sample like the one you took from me at the infirmary."  He gave her a roll of black ribbon.

She was strolling beside Nero along the main drag of Pilgrim's Landing.  Lucifer shone warm and reddish, on the verge of setting.  The landscape outside the town was green.  A herd of sheep bleated.  Another pastoral afternoon was turning into evening, even if the clock marked the wee hours of the morning.  Lucretia took the black roll and contemplated it.  "Nero," she said, "doesn't it bother you that you're not human any more?"

"I suppose," he answered, looking far down the road.  "I'm past feelings.  Too many things have happened;  I've lost track of how I should feel."

"This by itself," Lucretia said displaying the roll, "may justify the existence of Virgil.  I've gotten the attention of a few big guns on the effects this black ribbon produces."

"How's Kebe?"  Nero said.

"She's fine.  She's due shortly.  Are you...?"

"Kebe and I've been through a lot together, and we care for each other.  We're partners in adventure, if you want.  I've trusted her with my life, and she has trusted me with hers."

"What do you want out of life, Mr. Superhuman?  And don't tell me you don't know:  I wouldn't believe you."

Nero smiled, "Freedom and happiness.  For the latter, who knows, love, purpose, a smattering of success maybe."

Lucretia smirked.  "Yeah, and a white horse to ride into the sunset.  Cut the bullshit and tell me what you really want."

"That," Nero said, "is not bullshit.  That's why people may soon notice that Power Sharing isn't what it claims to be."

"Ah, I see.  You have a problem with authority!"

Nero laughed, a big belly laugh that echoed loud across the street, drawing the momentary attention of other people nearby.  Lucretia was puzzled.

"Lucretia," Nero said, "I'm a corporate cog by training.  Too much respect for undeserving authority is what got me into this predicament to start with.  I had to
learn
that questioning authority is a necessity.  It's a new game for me, and I'm not good at it—even if it seems worthwhile now."

"Respecting authority is a great way to make a career, Nero.  Did you have one?"

"I sure did—enough of it to get me in trouble."

"I don't understand," Lucretia said.