Magnificat (Galactic Milieu Trilogy) (52 page)

“I’m surprised that so many people want to live on a planet that’s known to be unstable.”

She grinned at him and her steel eyes flashed in the lamplight. “Hey—Oky’s a great world, even if it is a bit tectonically challenged. You’ll think so, too, once you’ve settled in. Did you check to see whether your family rode out the quake in good order?”

“I farspoke Cyndia. Things are normal at the Mental Man lab. There was no damage to our new house, either. Hagen and Cloud slept right through the tremor.”

“That’s good … Oh, shit! Look what’s happened to my poor koi.” They had stopped at an ornamental fishpond some distance from the residence. It was surrounded by a stone coping, but several large golden carp had been thrown from the water and lay dead on the grass. As Marc and the Dirigent stood there contemplating the small catastrophe, a low-slung exotic animal that resembled an otter in greenish armor crept out of the shrubbery, seized one of the fish carcasses, and slunk away with it.

“Life goes on,” Marc said. “What was that?”

“We call them pangoids. Some early settler was reminded of Earthly pangolins. They’re harmless scavengers. Almost all of our local wildlife are benign to humanity. It’s the planet itself that seems hostile. Thank God our Geophysical Corps will be phasing in your new 600X rigs for plate modification. The Peshastin Isthmus region is overdue for a real rumbler and—”

“Pat. I’m sorry. At this critical stage, we can’t afford to divert
any of our CE resources to domestic concerns. There’s little enough time to train the ops in offensive metaconcert.”

Her hesitation was only momentary. “Of course. Stupid of me … Will you be working on that aspect personally?”

“Strangford and Jarrow and Valery Gawrys and those others who just got in from Oxford will do the actual training. I’ll design the concerts, along with Jordy Kramer and Gerry Van Wyk. We’ll probably need Alex’s help for the tricky bits.”

Patricia Castellane gave a soft laugh. “Your pal seems to have fallen for Helayne Strangford like the proverbial ton of bricks. They left together, in case you didn’t notice.”

“I did. It was a surprise. Alex has never had much time for emotional involvement.”

“Like someone else I could mention.” Abruptly, Patricia turned away, staring out across the pond. Its surface was littered with floating blossoms. Now and then one was pulled under by one of the surviving fish. “I won’t bore you with my own unrequited yearnings, Marc. But if you should ever need me as something more than a co-conspirator …”

His hand was cool on her bare shoulder. “I’ve known how you felt about me for some time. I’m truly sorry. You’re a lovely, vital woman and you deserve someone more—more digne d’amour than I. If it’s any consolation, I’ve come to think of you as my staunchest ally in this Rebellion of ours. Some of the others waver from time to time, not sure whether to trust me. But never you, Pat. You’ve given more than yourself to the cause. You’ve given your whole world.”

“Most Okies are Rebels through and through. Perhaps it goes with the territory. You might not know it, but the Milieu did suggest that we abandon Okanagon in 2058, when the widespread geophysical anomalies were first confirmed. Our people rioted in the streets and shouted ‘Hell no, we won’t go.’ A
very
antiquated chant of defiance! So the Milieu backed down and let us stay … and less than four weeks later Tonasket Metro was leveled by a whopper and over sixteen thousand died. We just pulled up our socks and carried on.”

She turned about, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him on the cheek. “We’ll carry on in the Rebellion, too. No matter what. And win.”

They began walking back toward the big house. He spoke to her on intimate mode:

Catherine Remillard and her associate Quinn Fitzpatrick have given us valuable advice on the tutoring of Mental Man. We’re ahead of schedule in the preceptive sequence. And Jeff Steinbrenner
and the CE team have nearly finished a working model of the tiny 600X enhancer we’ll use to outfit the young brains.

But they have to … come out of the womb first, don’t they?

There are indications that some of them are nearly ready for independent survival. The Keoghs are using algetic conditioning, making the artificial life support more and more uncomfortable so the children have an incentive to leave it. They’re also showing them a Tri-D of my brother Jack, au naturel, as a more positive inducement So far as I know, it’s the only recording of him ever made in the bodiless state. It was done without his being aware of it, by the cockpit black box in the deep-driller that he used during the Caledonian diatreme event. Mental Man has found the Tri-D of Jack to be very inspiring.

I still find it hard to believe that those—those babies can actually tip the balance of mindpower in our favor.

Wait until they zap Molakar to a cinder. I guarantee you’ll be impressed. And so will the Milieu.

Is that going to be the demonstration?

Marc nodded somberly. He said: I considered nonlethal options, but none would have concentrated exotic attention quite so thoroughly. We have only one opportunity to show the Milieu exactly how steadfast our resolution is—before committing ourselves to a prolonged conflict that we might
not
be able to win. After the first strike, the exotics will be forewarned and able to barricade their worlds mentally against our attacks. Their vessels can emerge from hyperspace at any point, without warning, and engage in combat with ours. The Lylmik could do God knows what … unless our initial demonstration persuades them to capitulate.

She said: Molakar has a population nearly equal to Okanagon’s. Two billion.

His thought-tone was cold: And the Krondaku are already assembling starships there in preparation for the lockdown of Earth. I’ve seen them myself, excursing with the CE rig in farsense mode. The Krondaku are the enforcers, the Milieu bullyboys. It’s appropriate that Molakar be sacrificed for human freedom.

Do you have any estimate of
when?

“It all depends,” Marc said aloud, “on Mental Man.”

As they approached the terrace of the residence, someone came out of the shadows to meet them. It was Ruslan Terekev, the Intendant General of Astrakhan.

“Good evening, Patricia. Marc. An unforgettable party!”

“Thank you.” Castellane inclined her head with a wry little smile. “Next time, I’ll try to lay on somewhat less exciting entertainment.”

“I wonder.” The Russian lifted his hands in nervous apology. “Might I have a few minutes with Marc?”

The Dirigent was brisk. “Certainly. It’s time for me to see how things are going inside. Thank you both for coming tonight.” She went off through the French doors.

Marc looked down at the Russian. His exceptionally dense mindscreen was even more impregnable than usual and he seemed highly agitated. “What is it?”

“Please.” Terekev took him by the arm and led him back into the garden. “It is important that we are not interrupted.” Or farsensed!

Would you like me to erect a metacreative thought-barrier?

That would be ideal. Can we sit here in this gazebo? I am somewhat under the weather at the moment a small knock on the head during the earthquake it was so unexpected I was unable to erect a mental defense.

I’m sorry. Do you require redactive assistance?

No no it’s quite all right just sit here with me and listen. I have crucial information for you. Devastating information … Your Mental Man children have been subverted and turned into Hydras. This was done by your sister Madeleine the sole surviving original Hydra.

“Impossible!” White-faced, Marc surged to his feet.

I’m telling you the truth I swear it on my soul!

“The hell you are. What’s your game, Terekev?”

No game you
must
believe me! This new hundred-headed Hydra that is Mental Man will enable you to win the Metapsychic Rebellion but afterward the multiplex mind will turn against you, and your sister will use its power to found a Second Milieu. She’ll continue as master for a while until the new Hydra matures and decides to destroy her. Then it will rule—and force
you
to create more minds like itself.

“It’s a lie.” Fists clenched, Marc stood before the older man, massive in the dusk. “This is some lunatic scheme of yours to undermine my leadership of the Rebellion—”

“You must believe me,” Ruslan Terekev pleaded. He reverted to mental speech:

Madeleine is the woman known as Lyudmila Arsanova—my own Chief of Staff—I discovered the truth about her only by accident when we were engaged in sexual intercourse and her mind
opened inadvertently at the moment of climax. Before she was Lyudmila she posed as Castellane’s aide Lynelle Rogers who engineered the crash of Anne Remillard’s starship. She has also used the identity of Saskia Apeldoorn the technician in charge of the developing Mental fetuses. That’s when she subverted the babies. Those who refused to accept her were killed.

Is there any way you can prove this incredible assertion?

Terekev hesitated. “I’m not sure.” If you try to ream your sister she’ll kill herself Fury inserted the compulsion into all of the original Hydras to prevent their betraying him. Perhaps a coercive-redactive probe of the Mental Man brains would do it. There’d be a certain consonance to the armamentaria a Hydra signature common to all of them.

Marc said: They’re paramounts. Probably even stronger than I. Their shielding powers are superlative and they join spontaneously in metaconcert now to support one another. I doubt I could ream them unless I used CE and that would put them at risk. A risk I find unacceptable.

Don’t you want to learn the truth? You know what the Hydras are capable of!

Yes. But I wonder how it is that
you
do.

Your great family secret has been common knowledge among the higher echelon of the Rebel Party for years surely you are aware of this. If I had not known how would I have been able to recognize the importance of what I saw in Arsanova’s mind? She opened to me for only an instant. Even so it took me some weeks to comprehend the import of the revelation. I came to you as soon as it was possible to do so. I implore you to probe the Mental children!

“No,” Marc said. “The danger to their fragile minds is too great. Your scheme won’t work.” The celebrated one-sided smile glimmered as Marc came forward and seized the Russian’s shoulders. “I’ll check out Lyudmila Arsanova. Very cautiously. If she is my wayward sister Maddy, I may have a use for her. As for you—” His coercion was poised to slam home the mind-ream.

“You arrogant fool,” Ruslan Terekev whispered. “I might have known it was useless to appeal to you. Fortunately, I have another option.”

He vanished.

At first, more enraged than alarmed, Marc assumed the disappearance was nothing but a metacreative effect rendering the Astrakhanian IG invisible. Five full minutes passed before he cut
short his fruitless ultrasensory search of the gardens and residence of the Okanagon Dirigent. When it was already too late, stricken with a sudden sense of dread, Marc beamed a frantic telepathic warning to Jeff Steinbrenner at the secret Mental Man laboratory.

But even as he farspoke he felt the ground of Okanagon shudder beneath his feet in a seismic aftershock. The groan of the planetary crust echoed in his ultrasenses, rolling like mental thunder, nearly drowning out the metaconcerted cry at the quietus of Mental Man.

He knew then, and ran from the Dirigent’s residence to his rhocraft.

In the aftermath, before Marc arrived, Cyndia Muldowney came down to the lab to view the disaster. All but one of the infant brains floated lifeless in their transparent capsules. The exception, who had been named Trevor, had achieved the goal of independent survival a microsecond too late. He managed to leap free of the imprisoning tank with his psychokinesis, tearing loose from all of the preceptor-monitor electrodes except one.

But that single input lead had been sufficient to carry the ferocious charge of electricity into his fragile protoplasm. Trevor fell to the floor, shattered. The Keoghs had been unable to revive him.

Cyndia walked among the ranks of the dead, her thoughts adamantly barricaded, tears flowing down her cheeks.

Tears of relief.

They were gone, those fearsome, pathetic, bodiless babies. She had been too weak, too cowardly, too much in love with their father to give the children their release. But somehow it had been done. Mysteriously. Fortuitously. The nightmare was over.

But it’s not, you know
.

She nearly screamed when the man stepped out from behind a tall equipment rack, would have cried out telepathically if he had not checked her with his coercion.

Please! I’m not here to harm you. Do you recognize me? I’m Denis, Marc’s grandfather. Bespeak me on intimode.

You’re dead—

That was a hoax. I’m alive. I’m the one who killed them, Cyndia. I had no other choice.

A Dhia dhílis! I’m hallucinating.

You’re not. I
am
Denis. Memorize this MP ident sequence [image] and when you can, ask Catherine Remillard whom it belongs to. She’ll confirm that I really am her father.

I … very well. But—

Listen carefully, Cyndia. This is vitally important. Marc will attempt to sire another generation of Mental Man. You must prevent it. He has no idea of the immense danger these minds pose.

Danger? What are you talking about? The Milieu—

Not only to the Milieu but to every mind in the galaxy—exotic as well as human. Cyndia, these dead children were Hydras. Do you know what that means? [Image.] Ask any member of the Dynasty about their terrible family secret. Ask Catherine or Adrien or Severin. All of them had children who were Hydras—sociopathic killers who feed on lifeforce like vampires. Megalomaniacs whose ambition is to enslave the Galactic Mind. The only first-generation Hydra left alive now is Madeleine, Marc’s sister. She’s the strongest of the lot, the one who turned the Mental Man babies into monsters like herself. She’ll continue to make new Hydras unless you prevent it.

I’ve never … this is … Máthair Dé! Does Marc know?

I tried to tell him tonight. He thought I was lying—trying to destroy the Rebellion by maligning Mental Man. You’re my only hope now, Cyndia. You must not tell Marc I’ve talked to you. He’d never trust you again. And he must continue trusting you until you’re able to put a stop to Mental Man forever. It won’t be easy. There are two sources of sperm and four sources of ova to be neutralized [image].