Tales of Chills and Thrills: The Mystery Thriller Horror Box Set (7 Mystery Thriller Horror Novels) (155 page)

This was uncomfortable, and hadn’t he said that before?

Apparently Michael wasn’t a diplomat. “It’s a pity that some would use fear and anger to turn the misunderstandings between us to violence. Oceania and her technology are threats to nobody.”

Kenny replied before Brett had a chance. “Is that the latest stuff Fletcher’s been pouring into your brain, Michael?”

A jab at Michael instead of Brett? Had he found a Federalist sympathizer? It seemed unlikely. Brett was the outsider, and Brett would have resented any representative of the invasion force in their place. Wondering who the heck Fletcher was got pushed to the back of his mental queue.

Ariel frowned slightly. “Kenny, maybe you’ve had enough to drink?”

“That’s enough politics,” Katrina agreed immediately.

Michael stood up and whispered in Ariel’s ear. The two of them got up to dance again. Since he didn’t understand the undercurrents here, a gracious departure might have been indicated, but Brett was curious. He rationalized that he was learning something about Oceanian public opinion.

“So you don’t agree with Michael’s politics?”

Kenny sounded sober when he spoke. “I’d agree if it were anyone else but him who said it.”

“So what are your reasons for disliking Michael?

After speaking, Brett realized he had unconsciously put a slight emphasis on ‘your,’ as if everyone alive had good but different reasons for disliking Michael.

Instead of speaking, Kenny glanced first at his wife, then at Muriel. Oddly, it was Katrina who answered. “That’s none of your business.”

Her tone was perfectly friendly, as if he weren’t necessarily prying but might not have been aware it was none of his business.

“So tell me this. Why does he sit here? Because he can’t bear to be parted from Ariel while she talks to some friends who don’t like him?”

It was very natural Michael would want to escort her to a dance and spend time with her there. Brett told himself he was only curious. A more personal interest would be pointless. He could hardly have a future with Ariel.

This time Kenny answered. “Partly out of habit. We used to try and be polite. The, uh, problem has gotten worse recently.”

Before Brett could try to learn more about the life of a woman common sense dictated he would never see again, Muriel interrupted. “This isn’t thirty questions. Kenny, how is your Tetsudo going?”

Thirty questions? Maybe a variation on a common children’s game. Tetsudo? Didn’t even sound like English.

“In some ways the Nannies don’t help much at all. They can give you knowledge, but not make you quick enough to apply it. It’s about getting your brain and muscles and nervous system to all work in synch. I’ve known people who paid to have advanced techniques put into their brains from masters and wouldn’t qualify for a yellow belt in a decent dojo. It’s not real unless you constantly practice against people who use what they know.”

Dojo? Tetsudo must be a martial art. The rest made borderline sense.

Muriel replied, “It seems like someone in the military–like you and Brett – would have a big advantage.”

Kenny told her, “As a general rule yes. Brett’s case is a little different since he’s a doctor and not a line officer. Also he’s a little old to start, but I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

Also, Brett had studied a real martial art and not some concoction. He kept silent.

He turned to Brett. “Have you ever studied martial arts?”

Brett kept his face impassive. “A little. Never tried for a black belt.”

He served as a doctor, but knew how to defend himself from a young age. He was fiercely proud of the Space Force. His career had alternated between periods of action and periods of boredom. Brett had used the latter to earn a brown belt in Judo. Although he had never earned a black belt, he still felt confident he could throw Kenny – and certain it would be undiplomatic to offer to demonstrate. Brett was only in his mid thirties, and would bet on the Space Force against the Oceanian military any day.

Eventually the conversation moved on to other things. Ariel reseated herself, and joined the conversation before Brett could wonder where Michael was. To his own surprise, Brett told a couple of stories about Sergeant Mackey, charged with keeping some young medics out of trouble their first time in a warzone, including one Lieutenant Johnson, who couldn’t forget he outranked him. Midway through, it occurred to Brett that this might not be the best audience for stories about the Space Force, but everyone objected to his attempt to change the subject. He was almost done when Michael returned. Brett expected renewed conflict at this point, but the conversation continued to swirl while Michael sat sullenly.

It was only when the room was clearing out, Williams long gone, that Brett realized he had forgotten his plan to stay only a few minutes.

“I guess we should go before we get in the way of the cleaning crew,” Brett said reluctantly.

Although Michael was the only one who hadn’t been especially friendly, it was he who replied. “I assume you and Ambassador Williams were invited to the Landfall feast for Herbirthday?”

Brett thought back to his first meeting with Nocker, and his relief they would only take time for two purely social occasions. He still hoped to have a couple of interviews done before Herbirthday arrived, whatever that meant.

“If that’s where it is.”

“The celebration is planet-wide, but most off-worlders will end up at the feast in Landfall. I consider it a pity. While I sympathize with efforts to make people feel as comfortable and included as possible, I wonder if honesty might be more in the interest of long term amity. Encouraging people to delude themselves about the extent of the differences between themselves and Oceanians might be a mistake.”

Huh? What did inviting off-worlders to Landfall have to do with allowing people to delude themselves? What secrets were on display in Ulayn on Herbirthday but not in Landfall? Brett’s interest was piqued.

All this talk about off-worlders deluding themselves didn’t make Michael’s interest sound friendly. Why should Michael care where he spent Herbirthday? Brett said, “I’ve heard the celebration at Landfall will be huge, hundreds of thousands of people. We’re unlikely to meet. Surely the mere knowledge of my presence won’t bother you.”

“You misunderstand me. I won’t be at Landfall either. Ariel and I will be at Ulayn, the same place to which I’m inviting you.”

“You-lain,” Brett thought to himself, so as to remember the two long vowels.

Why the mention of Ariel? If this wasn’t a friendly invitation but some sort of challenge, did it involve her? Ariel was an adult, if she and Michael had differing expectations Michael should discuss it with her. Brett hadn’t done anything wrong, and Michael was making an awfully big fuss over nothing anyway. Brett’s instinctive dislike of Michael began solidifying.

Or else the whole thing lay in Brett’s imagination, as he jumped to false conclusions based on other false assumptions about an alien culture. Perhaps Michael would be astonished if he knew Brett suspected hostility on his part, or anything but minor awkwardness. Michael could have been making a friendly offer to see a side of Oceania many visitors didn’t see.

He heard Katrina wondering softly if this was a good idea, and Muriel saying she felt it was. Something was up. He didn’t drop his gaze from Michael to look at either of them.

Brett replied, “Kind of you to invite me. You seemed a little annoyed at me earlier.”

“Perhaps you will learn both manners and sense.”

Ariel snapped, “Michael! What’s gotten into you? Don’t spoil the invitation!”

So the conflict was real, and his intuition insisted that more than a halfhearted and grudging apology had transpired. Suddenly Brett was very curious, and he might even learn why Ariel’s other friends disliked Michael. A bad idea? He had only accepted a polite invitation. And he would see Ariel again.

As he said his goodnights and got up to leave, Michael asked him casually, “If our world was stained by blood and war, which of us here do you think would hate you most?”

Despite the mean spirit in which it was asked, the question pointed at an underlying truth. Brett didn’t evade it.

He pointed to Kenny, only thinking afterwards this might be rude on Oceania. “I’ll pick him. I’ve only met all of you today, but I’ll say Ariel and Katrina would put more effort into trying to help people than hating. Muriel’s a possibility, but I’ll stick with Kenny.”

He had left out Michael. Saying he didn’t think Michael would care that much about anything not a direct blow to his ego would be too combative.

To Brett’s surprise, Kenny replied, “Damn straight. I’m part of the Ground Force Reserve.”

So even casual friendliness must have cost him something, which left the question ‘why.’ He wouldn’t ask that now. Brett knew his next question was out of line, and his intuition told him not to ask it, but there was a slight chance he would learn something important. “Suppose your government ordered you to fight, but you knew it was hopeless, and you know the Space Force always accepted a surrender and helped rebuild anything destroyed. Would you –”

Kenny gave him a pained stare and interrupted. “I don’t know what planet you come from, mister, but say a vastly superior fleet is invading. They don’t have a reputation for mass murder, but they damn well rebuild planetary governments their way after they get a surrender. You always thought it was OK when they did that to planets in the middle of civil wars, or attacking their neighbors, but none of that applies here. Your government surrenders, except for those who refuse and get taken prisoner, or who go into hiding. What do you do?”

The truth hung too loud between them for Brett to lie. He would find patriots to help form a resistance army, and add the collaborators to the list of enemies.

Brett nodded. There was nothing else to say.

Chapter 7

The thick scar on Alvin Jackson’s face started half an inch below his right eye and extended almost to his jaw. Brett resisted staring, but Alvin offered, “It gives people something to gaze at besides the bulb at the tip of my oversized nose.”

And the outlandishly long hair completed the picture, but Brett didn’t comment.

Instead he said, “Have a seat. And thanks again for coming.”

The only chair besides Brett’s was the one directly in front of the desk. After seating himself Alvin replied, “Thanks for seeing me, Dr. Johnson. I feared I missed my chance when I didn’t see that other doctor before.”

Brett told him, “The Oceanians refused to give us contact information for many of the people who came here from the Federalist Worlds. They claimed these people wanted privacy.”

Alvin nodded. “I got the message. Not their fault. I felt like I couldn’t go home because of what I said to my parents, and moving near where I used to live without seeing them would have been weird, you know?”

Since Alvin came from Old York, as Brett and the Firestorm did, Brett had more information on him than any of the other people not interviewed yet. After reading the police report filed by Alvin’s parents when he ran away from home at seventeen, Brett had remembered the stupid things he had done when he was young. The face of another minor victimized by the hive mind stood out in his memory. He hoped Lydia had built a wonderful new life with her artificial eye – despite the death of her parents. Perhaps the mention of Alvin’s family had helped bring her to Brett’s mind. Now he hoped the same for Alvin.

“You could have spoken with Dr. Casey even if you didn’t feel certain you – but never mind. You’re here now. Although we’re still working out the details, I’d like a firm commitment from you that you’ll come with us when I’m certain it’s possible.”

Brett resisted the impulse to hold his breath. If Alvin asked him why he wanted a commitment, what could he say? Reservations were required? He just wanted to make it harder for Alvin to make a mistake he might regret for the rest of his life.

Alvin hesitated. “If I go, I’m not going to have to pay, am I? I don’t have the money, and if I had to pay it back I’d be working at it for the rest of my life.”

“If you tell me now, the trip will be free.”

Of course there wouldn’t be a charge anyhow, but Brett hadn’t lied.

Alvin smiled. “Great.”

Then he hesitated. “People said if I went home I would be used as propaganda against Oceania.”

“Does that worry you?”

Alvin nodded. “It doesn’t seem right. This place has been good to me. I just miss my parents, and want to apologize in person. And I’ll have a better chance of getting a good job at home, where the technology isn’t more advanced than I grew up with.”

So he still felt some loyalty to Oceania. It seemed to Brett the situation was beyond that sort of propaganda. If the Oceanians didn’t take action soon, war was imminent.

“Not if you don’t want us to.”

Anyway, they could pick someone who realized what had been done to them, and was eager to speak out against the Oceanians.

Brett continued, “I would like to ask you a few questions, just to clear up any misconceptions about the Oceanians we might have.”

It didn’t seem likely that Alvin would have any useful information not already discovered, but if he did, Brett had phrased the question so it sounded almost as if Alvin would help the Oceanians by answering.

Brett took a moment to lean back and collect his thoughts. One of the things he liked about being planet side was all the space. His new office was much bigger than Colonel Barr’s on the Firestorm. The chair behind the desk was good too, comfortable enough to lean back and think in. Light streamed in through the window during the cool mornings, but not during the hot afternoons.

Brett dragged his mind back to work. None of the more formal tests he or his predecessor had performed showed any evidence of brainwashing or conditioning. Still, it seems odd that after being told he was ‘probably a strong candidate’ Alvin should flip so quickly to worrying about something else.

Brett resisted indignation on behalf of the Space Force. Alvin was still pretty young, and nobody knew better than Brett what peer pressure could mean at that age.

“Is that what your friends have been telling you? You shouldn’t go home because it would be used as propaganda?”

“Not really. Well, not all of them.”

Brett blinked at the sun. Maybe he should move the desk, have the sun shine into the eyes of whoever he interviewed instead of his.

Since the Firestorm and Alvin were both from Old York, Brett came equipped with a fair amount of back ground information on Alvin, starting with the police report filed after he disappeared.

“When you left home most people were hearing more about the dangers of the hive mind, but a few people were still making claims about how wonderful it was. Why did you decide to come to Oceania?”

Alvin shrugged. “Well, I didn’t know where I wanted to go, and everyone was talking about Oceania. After the stuff with my parents, I wasn’t in the mood to believe any warnings from adults to younger people. So I decided to believe the other side, you become part of a super-brain and achieve a religious experience and instant enlightenment. Doesn’t make much sense now, but that’s what went through my head.”

Alvin shifted restlessly, planting his elbows on the armrests and pushing down with them while he shifted his behind back further in the seat.

Brett asked, “Did you have any trouble finding a ship that would take you here?”

The young man shook his head. “Not that hard. Trading with Oceania was already sort of illegal – the embargo thingie – but lots of the other worlds Old York traded with still did.”

Brett said, “Space travel is expensive.”

Alvin nodded. “Sort of, but lots of ships can use free labor. Some are too moral to take a seventeen year old without a note from his parents, but secretly happy if they discover a stowaway when it’s too late. Provided he’s a hard worker.”

Jackson didn’t look like a hard worker to Brett, but he didn’t digress. Instead he asked, “So when you got to Oceania, did anyone offer to help you get back home, since you were a minor?”

Alvin shook his head. “Actually I was eighteen then anyway, but is that fair? Would the government of Old York do that?”

Brett honestly wasn’t sure. Instead of responding he asked, “So they made you part of the super mind instead?”

Alvin shrugged yet again. “In a way.”

He touched his hand to his head, although he wasn’t wearing one of the ubiquitous caps just now.

Then he continued, “I have the technology, and they taught me to use it. Without that it would be like trying to get a job on Old York while unable to read.”

Brett persisted, “And they made you part of the hive mind?”

Alvin repeated patiently, “In a way. Most Oceanians wouldn’t call it that. I thought I wanted to when I got here, but all the stuff I would have had to learn was worse than going back to school.”

Brett asked, “So if the hive mind uses your brain for extra computing power sometimes, you’re not aware of it?”

Alvin just looked at him, and Brett realized how paranoid he must sound to someone who had never seen the dark side of the overmind. Brett started again. “If nothing you’ve seen on this world makes you uncomfortable, the way I talk must sound crazy.”

Jackson shrugged. “Whatever.”

Brett prodded. “Maybe you can teach me better. Tell me more about the supermind.”

Alvin shifted uncomfortably. “The truth is I don’t know that much. Some stuff about it is in the media, political debates, and discussions between people who work as part of the hive mind. Nothing like what I expected.”

This kid wasn’t a mine of information, but maybe Brett could learn something from the media. Open source intelligence.

If Alvin used the nanotechnological interface in his everyday life, surely he would have picked up something without even realizing it. Probably not something they didn’t have better information on from elsewhere, but it didn’t hurt to find out.

“So what’s it like living here with nanomachines in your bloodstream?”

Alvin shrugged again. “Career-wise it’s not so great. Everyone else started using them shortly after puberty. They were trained younger than me. There are some jobs where that might not matter so much, but I don’t have those skills either, and I’m not as well equipped to learn them as most people. That’s another reason I’m glad to go home.”

Alvin shifted in his chair, putting weight lopsidedly on his right buttock. He seemed a little uncomfortable. “Aside from the low level jobs though, and missing my family, it’s been kind of fun living here.”

Brett invited him, “Tell me about it.”

Alvin replied, “Well, the technology makes for some unique dating service. I’ve considered plastic surgery, but I’ve discovered that I kind of like looking this way. Some women are drawn, others scared, but as a rule I don’t walk into a random singles bar and hit on whatever looks hottest. I’ve used dating services before, but no matter how many questions they ask and what tests they do, they never know how someone is going to react to everything when they meet you. Somehow the Oceanian dating service I’m using usually knows who is going to cringe away and who’s going to quickly go from horror to interest before I see a picture of her.”

Alvin leaned forward, warming to his subject as he spoke.

“Of course there’s a guy I used to know who’d hate it. He kind of likes seducing innocents by pretending to offer more than he’s going to give. Women know what they’ll be getting before they meet me.

“The better you want them to do, the more you have to authorize them to pass your privacy protections. Not even all Oceanians would go as far as I have.”

Brett repressed a shudder at the thought of letting something alien inside his head as a matchmaker.

Alvin liked talking about himself to an interested listener. Most people did.

“Go on,” Brett told him.

Alvin did. “It’s kind of nice going into a fancy restaurant and having the waiter be able to figure out what strange foods I’ll enjoy when I don’t know myself, or going for a walk and discovering there are enough football players in the general area to set up a game of touch football – and one of them has a ball.”

How casually he sacrificed his privacy. Alvin continued.

“All the same, I want to go home. I haven’t seen my family in years. I used to love the Oceanian accented English they speak on some parts of this world, but it’s starting to get on my nerves. The man you replaced said the remaining nannies in my blood no longer work, and the rest are being pissed out through my kidneys.

“I know some people worry that the nannies might have been used to plant something in my brain. I was never much into politics, so I’ll sign whatever anyone wants agreeing not to participate from now on. I’m sure some intelligence agency will keep track of me as well. I just want to see my family again.”

Then Alvin brightened. “Oh yeah. Since you’re interested in stuff about the supermind, I just remembered this girl I met a couple of years ago. She was studying to work as a Neuron. By that time I had already found out how complicated it was and lost interest, but I wanted to keep the conversation going while I was getting to know her better, so I asked her about the earliest memories of the overmind.”

A Neuron? Brett had heard that phrase before used to describe someone who had become part of the hive mind. It felt strange to think about someone studying to do so deliberately.

Brett looked at him inquiringly, waiting for him to go on.

“They aren’t that clear, like someone’s memories from early childhood, partly because there have been changes in format since then.”

Brett listened, hoping a casual remark which the original speaker had not expected to be remembered or repeated might be revealing.

“The overmind is just a bunch of people working together on a bunch of things: scientists and engineers and people. Different Neurons and the companies who trained them want to concentrate on different things. Sometimes things are easier if there’s a sort of imaginary person with imaginary priorities to smooth it all over.”

Brett asked, “Are you sure you understood her?”

Alvin considered. “You’re right. I guess I didn’t.”

Brett shrugged. “She remembered that? She had been absorbed and was … released?”

Alvin shook his head. “It’s not like being eaten or something. You have to work at it.”

“You know a lot about this?”

“Only what I picked up from whatsername that night. It didn’t work out.”

So Brett could be hearing propaganda. But even that might be a hint as to what they wanted to hide. “So you’re saying they don’t lose their sense of individuality?”

“They do, sometimes, while they’re doing it. Like you might lose track of everything while concentrating on something that really interested you.”

It seemed an odd analogy, but enough rehashing third hand evidence for now. He had done pretty well, eliciting a few details not in Dr. Casey’s report. He wound up the interview. “Do you have any questions for me?”

Alvin hesitated, then the words came out in a rush. “Tell me the truth. Is there really a good chance I can go home? I wasn’t really homesick until people started talking about the possibility. If people are scared or changed their minds or whatever, I shouldn’t get used to the idea.”

“I won’t make any promises I can’t keep, but every test I can think of indicates you are no more of a danger to the Federalist Worlds than you were when you came here. My report will go up the chain of command.”

So it would, but phrased with care. His predecessor had been removed with a black mark on his record, accused of being careless, or even an Oceanian sympathizer. Brett hadn’t been able to find what the man had done wrong yet. Brett would do what he knew was right – when he was sure it really was right.

Maybe his next subject would know more. He’d agreed to attend Herbirthday at Ulayn first though, whatever that meant. The idea of somehow being challenged by Michael felt very distant now. He had no business getting emotionally involved with anyone here. All the same, Brett wouldn’t second guess his instincts. The briefing material (propaganda?) from the Oceanian embassy indicated the holiday celebration explored the fun side of the nanotech interface, using it for socialization and games. Brett would be going to a location not meant for tourists, so he would get the opportunity to learn what happened when a dangerous tool was used as a toy.