Charon (16 page)

 
"What!"
I felt a cold chill. Was I being led down the garden path to the guillotine? Had my cover been so easily blown?

 
He nodded. "And while we are sure only of the one, it's reasonable for us to assume that they would send more."

 
"But what for?"
I asked, steadying my nerves as best I could. "You just said it would be nearly impossible to get information out. And anybody they'd send here would be stuck, just like us."

 
"It is our belief-^-Charon's, not the Four Lords, I might add—that they will send their best men available to each of the four worlds with the intent of killing each of the Four Lords. Doing this will, they feel,
cause
some disruption, and the new Lord will be a lot less sure of him or herself and perhaps less disposed toward treason. It is not much of a hope, I admit, but it's the only logical thing they
can
do while they try and find the alien enemy first."

 
He was uncomfortably close to the mark, and I could only feel I was being toyed with. Something inside kept shouting
"He knows! He knowsr'—
but my more controlled overmind kept saying that the best way to proceed was to play along, at least for now. "And you think that one of us is a Confederacy fanatic?"

 
"I
know
it," he responded. "I knew it the moment I met the agent face to face."

 
He paused for a moment and I braced for the inevitable denouement to our little play.

 
"The Confederacy's agent," he said, "is Zala Embuay."

CHAPTER FIVE - A Plot, a Deal, and a Potion

"Zola?
You've got to be joking!" I could hardly contain my emotions at this point, a mixture of incredulity, relief, and a still-lingering suspicion that I was being had. "You've got to be kidding. Without protection she wouldn't last ten minutes outside this hotel."

 
"That's partly the point," Korman responded, and he didn't seem to be joking. "Have you ever seen anyone so innocent, so confused,
so
totally
dependent!
Not the Warden Diamond sort at all. Not even the Confederacy's."

 
"You're saying it's all an act?
A plant?"
I found it hard to take this seriously from
any
viewpoint.

 
"Oddly enough, no.
Zala is, I'm certain, exactly what we see. She's shallow, weak, more an outline of a real person than a whole human being. There is no doubt in my mind that she believes .herself to be what she is utterly and has no inkling whatsoever of her true nature and purpose."

 
I had to laugh. "This is impossible."

 
"When I saw her I was immediately aware of the anomaly. The Wardens, you see, congregate in every cell, in every molecule of our being. They permeate our existence. With some training you can even see them. Sense them.
Hear
them. I'm sure you'll one day experience what I can only inadequately verbalize. But the Wardens become as highly specialized as the molecules they link up to. The brain is particularly odd. Wardens there organize in specific ways, so specialized that you can actually see a diagram of the parts of the brain. When I look at anyone— you, for instance—I see those parts distinctly, and even how they interconnect and interact. The cerebrum and the cerebral cortex are easy to define.
In you, in everyone— but not in Zala."

 
"Huh?
How's that?"

 
"I can't really explain it. It is outside my experience in every way. Outside anybody's, I'd guess. But organically, Zala's cerebral functions are organized very differently. It's almost as if there were
two
forebrains in there, two totally different operative centers linked to the same cerebellum, medulla, spinal cord and nervous system—but not to each other. It is definitely organic. Deliberate.
And unprecedented as far as I can tell."

 
"You're telling me that there are two minds in one body? That's hard to swallow, although I've heard tales of multiple personalities."

 
"No! Not in that old sense. Multiples as we know them are psych conditions.
Psychologically induced—and curable.
This is not a psych condition. I'm talking about two real minds, Lacoch!"

 
I couldn't shake the oddest feeling that
either I was dreaming this whole illogical and
improbable conversation or that I had really gone suddenly insane. The thought suddenly came to me that all this was illusion, some way in which they were pulling some sort of sophisticated psyche job on me. Still, I had wits enough left to realize that no matter what the situation, my only choice was to keep playing along, at least for now. "You will understand," I said carefully, "that I find both the idea and your means of confirmation rather, ah, improbable."

 
He nodded. "Still, it's true and it must be acted upon. The implications of a dual mind with unknown powers are ones we can't ignore, and must know more about it
Within
a matter of hours, I can get a set of master defense codes for the Confederacy, even a list of the top fifty assassins now on assignment along with the actual assignments of at least half. Our information conduits into the Confederacy are not only beyond their belief, they are almost beyond mine. Yet we have heard nothing whatsoever about a project like this, which must have been—what?—twenty years plus in the making.
The perfect agent.
She can be hypnoed, psyched to the gills, tortured beyond endurance and she wouldn't know or give away a thing. If we had telepathy she'd pass
that
test too. All the while the other mind, the assassin's mind, would be there, beyond reach, gathering data and picking its own time to assume control. It must be something else—it has nothing to do
but
its job. Cold, analytical genius set to one task and only one."

 
I thought about it. If all this were real, I could not only see his point I could almost doubt myself. Krega had never said that I'd be the only agent, and Zala might well be part of an independent effort. Telling myself I was really crazy for starting to believe all this, I still had to press on. "So you just kill her and that's that," I commented dryly.

 
"Oh, no!
Then we would never see this other mind, never know its capabilities—and we might not catch the next one, or the next dozen, or hundred, or whatever. Not to mention that they'll be ticking bombs back in the Confederacy when all hell breaks loose and we return. We need to know a great deal more about her new type. Of course, we'd like to know just how much they really know about us at this stage."

 
"I thought you just told me then- secrets were an open book."

 
He glared at me. "Some. But we—the Four Lords—are a special target of a special group. Their plans are so secret that even those who formulated them have been wiped now." He sighed. "And that brings us back to what we have dubbed 'Operation Darkquest'—which brings us back to you."

 
I
nodded,
beginning to see how all this was fitting together. Still, I couldn't resist a mild jab. "It seems to me that for a man with the powers of a god you're sounding pretty human."

 
Again the glare, but it softened, and his eyes lit up with just a trace of humor. "You're right, of course. It
is
something of a humbling experience, but the mind is always the best weapon no matter what sort of power one acquires."

 
"Now—do you mind getting down to specifics?" I pressed.

 
"All right, all right.
We are going to assign Zala to you and you to a minor but conspicuous village post down south where Koril's cult is very strong. We feel certain Koril will contact you, indirectly of course, and sound you out. Now that you know the situation, we want you to go along with him, feed his prejudices. You and Zala will ultimately accept his deal to join him, and that will mean getting you to his redoubt."

 
"You feel sure he'll contact us? We'll be pretty obvious, Fd think."

 
"He'll contact you, all right. Maybe not right away, but hell come. Eventually he'll contact all of you, but not all will go his way."

 
"I see. And you want me to somehow get the location of that fortress to you."

 
He nodded. "That and his future plans."

 
/'You have some gadget for me to do all this with, I presume?"

 
He shook his head from side to side.
"Sadly, no.
Most of the usual ones won't work here, and anything I might add by my powers Koril would detect. He's that good. No, I suspect we'll have to wait until he sends you out on your first errand, or mission, or whatever. Call it a test of your resourcefulness."

 
I considered it. "And how am I supposed to make sure this message gets to you without getting my head blown off either by your people or Koril's?"

 
"Koril is your problem. As for the other, the key word is "Darkquest." Village sores and those above will know the term but not what it means. What it will do is make certain that you are not killed and that word of your capture or whatever will reach the Synod."

 
"It seems to me Koril's going to know at least the signal word
himself—
if he's as good as you say."

 
Korman nodded. "He will, but it will do him no good. He won't know w
,hat
it means, and any of his people using it other than yourself will simply walk into capture."

 
That part pretty well satisfied me. "How good is this Koril in psych terms though? Am I likely to go through some sort of exercise that will betray the plot when I'm down there in
his
domain?"

 
"He himself is powerful enough to turn your mind to almost anything, which is the reason for the length of our session here. I have been creating blocks in your mind, selective traps and guards that will go up should he try any such thing. And if he
does
try any mind-turning, it won't take.
Not for long anyway."

 
"But he's likely to sense the blocks," I noted.

 
"On most attempts, certainly," Korman agreed. "But
yoif.—
you have been through three years of intense psych before coming here, remember. Your mind now shows many, many blocks and rechannelings to me. The extras I add won't be noticed, and that alone is what makes you so uniquely qualified—you see?"

 
I
did
see. Of course, the psych blocks Korman saw weren't from any Lacoch psych treatments but from my own breeding, training, and Krega's Security; but it explained a lot If Korman could sense those blocks—but not remove them—it not only reinforced my assumed identity but quite possibly prevented him from doing some of that mind-bending on me. I remembered that earlier hypnotic gaze. "All right, I understand the plot," I told him. "What about Zala?"

 
"Take her along, by all means!" Korman urged. "Find out all you can from her, particularly from her alter ego which you will almost certainly see.
And if you can manage it, when
you
are in position to use 'Darkquesf see if you can't manage to have her with you."

 
I chuckled. "This is
some
job you're giving me. I was a planetary administrator, for god's sake^ Now I'm instantly supposed to be a master spy, secret agent, and the rest, pitting myself against the top power on the planet and a Confederacy assassin!"

 
"You don't have to accept," he said calmly. "I admit your overall qualifications aren't very good. Against the perfect psych cover and an interesting and agile mind, we must balance your lack of experience. Do you remember your old self
all that
well?"

 
I gave the required shudder. "Yes, I remember him."

 
"You were a master of disguise and you baffled the best police for over five years. You're not as rank an amateur as you think."

 
I considered that. "Still, I'm going to have to make every move right—no mistakes of any kind. One goof and
I'm
done, maybe for a very long time. The odds are I'm going to get killed."

 
"Well, that's true," he admitted casually, "but consider that you have alternatives. First, you can refuse categorically. I'll find another candidate, team Zala up with him or her, and wipe this entire conversation from your memory. You'll then be sent north, out of the way, and can spend the rest of your life toiling in the fields getting in the harvest. That's safe. Or you can accept—and get killed. Or you can accept, accomplish the mission, and find yourself very abruptly a man of immense rank and power at the right hand of Aeolia Matuze and the Synod, a participant in the coming revolution, and sure recipient of its fruits."

 
I looked at him cautiously. "And I could accept, contact Koril, and really join his side."