The Sopaths (13 page)

“Sopaths!” Nefer exclaimed. “Sauerkraut has sopaths!”

“That would explain it,” Abner agreed. “But why would sopaths be born there, and not at nearby Sweetpea? That’s the current mystery.”

“Sweetpea didn’t share their secret,” Clark suggested.

“But the two towns get along very well. Shipments from outside, such as fuel, food, and building materials, come to central warehouses in Sweetpea, which then shares them with Sauerkraut. Sauerkraut workers go to Sweetpea for employment. There’s considerable economic and probably social exchange.”

The children were thoughtful. “Sopaths in one town, none in the other, but they work together,” Clark said. “That’s funny.”

“Not funny,” Dreda said. “Odd.”

“That’s what I meant, twerp.”

“Sweetpea has to know about the sopaths,” Nefer said. “And maybe lets them work there, if they behave. They can behave if they have reason to.” She herself being an example.

“But nobody wants more sopaths,” Clark said. “Except maybe sopaths themselves.”

“Sopaths don’t want more sopaths either,” Nefer said. “They can’t be trusted.”

“Not even you?” Dreda asked her.

“I don’t want more sopaths,” Nefer said. “They’re nothing but trouble. And you know the only reason I’m behaving is because I want to stay close to Abner and maybe some day get him into my pants. You can’t trust me to look out for anyone’s interest but my own.”

Clark looked at her. “What would you do if he did?”

Nefer paused thoughtfully. “If he fucked me? I mean, had sex with me?” She glanced quickly at Bunty. “Indulged me? I’d want him to do it again and again. I don’t think I’d ever get enough of it.”

Which was exactly what Bunty had said. Trust a woman to know the nature of such passion.

“So we could still trust you,” Dreda said, neither surprised nor shocked. “Because you’d have to keep behaving to get him to keep doing you.”

Nefer seemed surprised. “I guess so. I’m hooked. But I’m a rare case. Few sopaths ever get to know a souler well enough to fall in love, and few soulers would even give them the chance. You can’t trust any
other
sopaths.”

Abner and Bunty let the dialogue run its course. It actually was relevant to their mission, and it was confirming their prior judgment of Nefer’s motives.

“And Sweetpea must know not to trust them,” Clark said. “Unless there’s something just as big to make them behave. Maybe not love, but something else.”

“Fear,” Nefer said. “We value our own hides.”

“How could Sweetpea make them afraid?” Dreda asked.

“Beats me,” Nefer said.

“They must have something,” Abner said.

Dreda got a bright idea. “No sopaths in Sweetpea, because maybe they can wipe them out, and the sopaths know it, so they’re afraid.”

Nefer glanced at Abner. “
Are
they afraid?”

“There’s no indication of that,” Abner said. “It must be subtle, and sopaths aren’t much for subtlety.”

“The stupid ones aren’t,” Nefer said. “But smart ones can appreciate subtlety. I do. It’s smart sopaths you have to be wary of.”

“Yet the two towns get along well,” Bunty said. “That doesn’t seem like fear. More like respect.”

“Sopaths respect only love and power,” Nefer said. “Mostly power.”

Clark struggled to work it out. “If sopaths don’t want more sopaths born, and Sweetpea knows how to stop them, why doesn’t Sweetpea share?”

“And why isn’t Kraut mad if they don’t?” Dreda asked.

Nefer spread her hands. “Beats me,” she repeated.

The three looked at Abner. “So what’s the answer?” Clark asked.

“That is what we are going there to find out,” Abner said. “Because it could have global implications. I will need all of us to contribute to our effort. Someone may say something in the presence of a child, not thinking the child is listening or will understand.”

“We’ll do it,” Dreda said confidently.

“Focus on two things,” Bunty said. “Is there a way to stop sopaths being born? And is there a way to control sopaths without violence? We get along as a family, but as Nefer says, that’s unlikely to work on the scale of two towns. We are surely not going into a paradise of love.”

“What about sex?” Nefer asked. “We sopaths like sex and have no shame. Is Sweetpea a brothel?”

“Again, there is no evidence of that,” Abner said. “They don’t seem to have a red-light district.”

“So there’s something weird going on,” Clark concluded. “We’ll figure it out.”

“A caution,” Abner said. “There may be danger. The secret, whatever it may be, has been well kept. We have to appear as a naïve, innocent family. We don’t want them to catch on that Nefer isn’t a souler.”

“I can play the part,” Nefer said. “But I can tell a sopath when I see one. They’ll probably have smart sopaths who will recognize me regardless.”

“An alternative may be to let them believe that we don’t know your nature, as your family didn’t,” Bunty said.

Nefer nodded. “That could work. Sopaths infiltrate regular families all the time. We aren’t all destructive. Smart ones know they need the families.”

“Then I think we are done,” Abner said. “We can go about our family routine.”

They did. Nefer kept watch, while the other children went to bed. Bunty and Abner went to bed too. They made quiet love, knowing Nefer was tuning in on it, but inured to it. Nefer seemed not to be jealous; she merely wanted to seduce Abner to have his ultimate attention, and to prove she could do it. She knew that any hostility to Bunty on her part would turn him off and get her in instant trouble.

Abner slept. They had agreed to one hour shifts for the children, two hours for the adults. That would carry them through a seven hour night.

He woke later to find Nefer settling down beside him, having taken Bunty’s place in the shift change. Her bed was whichever one was unoccupied. She was unlikely to try anything, because Bunty was alert, being on watch, and because she knew Abner would reject it. But she did do one thing.

“Will you hold my hand, Abner?”

He smiled, took her hand, and returned to sleep. He hoped it would continue this easy, but suspected it would not.

Two hours later Bunty returned, having awakened Clark. The children had insisted on taking their turns rather than being coddled. Nefer went to take Clark’s bed. “Thanks, Abner,” she whispered as she departed.

“Welcome,” he answered, bemused.

“She never slept,” Bunty murmured. “She lay there thrilling to your touch. I believe she feels your soul, and that contact is like a drug, making her high.”

“Damn, this is dangerous,” he said. “As I said, I’m beginning to feel something for her.”

“She knows it. That’s what keeps her in line.”

“But Bunty, this can’t lead anywhere we want to go.”

“Would you ever knowingly be seduced by a sopath, even if she was mature and breathtakingly lovely?”

“No!”

“Or a child?”

“No.”

“Even one with a superlative singing voice?”

“No.”

She was silent. She had made her case. His emotions might be tempted by Nefer, but his logic would always triumph. The real danger would be when Nefer herself came to that conclusion. In that sense his guilty slight temptation was an advantage, because she picked up on it, underestimating the formidable restraints, and continued her courtship. But it still bothered him.

In the morning they handled the early routine and got back on the highway. All of them were pleased: they had successfully navigated their first night on the road.

The children took turns sitting up front with Abner as he drove. The first was Dreda. “I never saw her so happy,” she said. There was no need to clarify whom she meant. “She almost glowed in the dark.”

“I held her hand while I slept,” he said.

“I think she’d rather do that than get you into her pants, daddy.”

And here he was discussing sex with his five-year-old daughter. But the world had changed, and she had learned about sex the hard way. “Why?”

“‘Cause sex is over soon, but hands last.”

Could that be true for the sopath? Nefer surely knew that if he had sex with her, he would lose interest in sex for several hours thereafter, as any man did. But they could hold hands continuously, even while he slept. For her, that might well be preferable. That would be marvelous. “That much I can give her.”

CHAPTER 7

One of the perks of the position was constant contact with the national Pariah organization. Abner had a special cell phone that sent an automatic signal, tracking him. If that signal stopped, they would treat it as an emergency call and investigate immediately. He also used it to make ongoing reports, which he knew were recorded. Pariah wanted a complete record. No mysteries, secrets, or problems. Like the black box on airplanes, that record would help them fathom whatever might go wrong. When dealing with sopaths, as Pariah did, things were almost expected to go wrong.

“We have spent our first night on the road,” he reported during a rest stop. “No problems.”

The family and Nefer knew about the phone and record, but tuned them out. No one outside their family was supposed to know. If Abner was for any reason unable to carry the phone, one of the others would have to take it and make the reports. Even Nefer, ironically.

Their first stop was at a neighboring town that had a loose Pariah chapter but it wasn’t well organized. Their members were vaguely stigmatized, they were having trouble coping with the constant influx of new survivors, and they were horrified by the prospect of encountering more sopaths.

“You need a leader who can establish relations with the local police,” Abner said. “They will help you, if you learn to deal with sopaths.”

“But we don’t want any contact with sopaths!” their spokesman protested.

“By dealing with them I mean killing them,” Abner said bluntly. “You have already done it or you wouldn’t be survivors. It is the only way to be rid of them.”

“We just can’t do that,” the man said.

How well he understood. It was an expected answer. They had not had his military experience. His approach was intended as a kind of shock treatment. “Then avoid them as well as you can, and set up a school for survivors that has no sopaths in it. Set up a nondenominational church service too; you are apt to be excluded from conventional churches.”

The spokesman nodded appreciatively. “That we can do.” The man might have balked at the formidable task, but after appreciating the hell of killing children, he was glad to have an alternative.

“Another prospect is to form temporary families of survivors, so that the children are properly cared for and not discriminated against.”

“Families?”

“My family was killed by my sopath child, until I killed her. Here is my Pariah wife Bunty: her family was similarly killed. We came together not from love but necessity: I needed a woman in the house and she needed economic support. Soon enough it became love, but for your purpose that is not necessary. We took in two sopath-orphaned children, Clark and Dreda, here, and we love them too. We do not deny or forget our original families, but now we are functioning as a composite family.” He did not mention Nefer, who had remained to guard the motor home.

“From four real families?”

“Yes. Now we are a real family too. We never went through the paperwork of marriage or adoption, only a Pariah commitment, but we really are a family. You can do the same. It will be better for the children, and probably for the adults too. You all will have a common bond of understanding, as we do.”

“A family,” the man said. “But I may ask, what of, um--”

“We do make love,” Bunty said. “That is part of the commitment. We fill the complete roles we have assumed.”

“They sure do,” Clark said. “It gets disgustingly mushy.”

“And we have to go to our rooms,” Dreda said.

The assembled members of the chapter exchanged glances, realizing the prospects. They could recover much of what they had lost, without having to struggle to relate to those who had never had the devastating experiences they had had. Without formally marrying or adopting. On an ad hoc basis, to get by in this time of loss and confusion.

“It doesn’t have to be permanent,” Abner said. “A temporary family will do.” That would facilitate it, by allowing them to pool resources and take care of children without feeling that they were betraying their lost spouses or children. Functioning family units and a good, safe school would make this chapter far more viable, and the people far less miserable.

There were of course many details, and Bunty and the children helped relate to the women and children there. Everyone could see how much like a “real” family they seemed, and it didn’t hurt that they freely showed love to each other. It was a viable alternative to the grief-stricken chaos these folk otherwise faced. The semblance of families would soon enough become practical reality, as they had discovered themselves. The common bond of sopath horror, and their need for mutual support, would solidify it rapidly.

In fact it occurred to Abner that this could be a prime reason he had been selected for the position. He and his new family were a living example of how well it could work. They were a model family, Pariah style.

They returned to the camper that evening. “Several people snooped around,” Nefer reported. “But nobody tried to get inside.”

That was just as well. They did not expect any suspicious behavior in the towns they visited, but had to remain alert. They would continue the watch roster at night. A Pariah organizer could be distrusted by outsiders.

“We seem to have had a successful contact,” Bunty reported. “May it continue.”

“So that no one will suspect the real mission,” Nefer said.

“Exactly. We’ll need to get you involved, to be sure no sopaths have infiltrated any of the chapters. The children say you can spot them more readily than they can.”

“But I have to be hidden.”

“Yes,” Abner agreed. “But when we get well away from our home town, the chances of anyone knowing you will become remote. Your clothing, wig, and attitude further conceal you. I believe you can pose as a very shy friend of the children.”

“Me, shy,” she agreed, smiling. Shyness was a function of caring what others thought of a person, and sopaths didn’t care, and weren’t shy or reticent, as Nefer’s references to wanting sex with him showed. Sopaths were unusually candid. Not because they had any reservations about lying, but because they didn’t understand the concept of shocking others. They lied only to gain an advantage or protect themselves, never for social status.

In fact it occurred to him that Nefer was an ongoing lesson in the nature of the enemy, and as such was invaluable.

They kept Nefer out of sight while in the next two towns, but when they were far enough distant they had her substitute for Dreda, who kept watch behind. They were a family of four, and it was easy for Nefer to emulate the fourth. It seemed to work well enough. They helped set up a local church, and demonstrated a choir, and Nefer’s evocative voice was persuasive.

“You’re such a pretty child,” a woman said appreciatively. “Do you really like your new family?”

“I adore them,” Nefer replied shyly. “They really helped me after I lost my own family.” Which was technically true, though she would readily have lied as persuasively had she needed to. So, for that matter, would have Clark and Dreda.

“You can make up similar temporary families,” Abner reminded them. “If they don’t work out, you can exchange members. Remember, every member of Pariah has had a similarly horrible experience, and will understand.”

They wrapped up in good order, leaving behind another grateful Pariah chapter. When Abner called in to make his report, he was informed that prior chapters had spoken very well of him and his family. He was a success as an organizer.

“They’re so naïve,” Nefer remarked after her first such contact. “They don’t question your family at all, really.”

“And it is to safeguard us from similar unconscious naiveté that we have you along,” Abner said. “If there are sopaths among them, we need to know, without alerting them that we know.”

“I’ll do anything you want, including that,” she agreed, with a little flirt of her hip, a gesture she had picked up from Bunty. Abner reflected again how dangerously fascinating she would have been had she had an adult body.

As they traveled farther away, they started behaving more like a family of five, since no one knew of their origin. No one seemed to notice. They were a common-law married couple with three common-law children. Pariahs knew how it was, especially when Abner recommended that they form similar families to facilitate care of their orphaned children without social assistance from the larger normal communities. Because of course those communities tended to discriminate against Pariahs, leaving them to their own resources.

Then it happened. After a routine organizational session in a new town, Nefer spoke. “One of those children was a sopath.”

“The leader’s boy,” Dreda agreed immediately. “He’s going to rape some girl.”

“The pretty little redhead,” Clark said. “I saw him eying her.”

“I wondered,” Bunty said. “He reminded me of mine. I thought it was just a physical resemblance.”

Yet Abner had not picked up on it. His sopath had been a girl. But he suspected it was more than that: the women and children of any age were more sensitive to the personal nuances, perhaps because they had more to fear from sopaths. Abner had been busy making his presentation, so really had not been looking; maybe he would have picked up on it otherwise. Yet the local Pariahs had been deceived, so it was more than merely gender or age. Abner’s whole family was more attuned, especially the girls.

Abner put it into his daily report to Pariah, identifying the family and the boy. Pariah would handle it, probably by officially ignoring it. But they would be aware, and no really private information would go to that group, unless it was something they wanted sopaths to know.

It confirmed that sopaths could and did infiltrate Pariah groups without their knowledge. That could be mischief.

“Probably he’s just hiding, to keep a good family,” Clark said. “Stupid sopaths wreck things. Smart ones hide.”

“Exactly,” Nefer said, smiling at him. And Abner suffered another quiet shock: the boy tried to mute his reaction, but her smile had the impact of a kiss. Clark was beginning to like Nefer, despite knowing her nature.

Bunty had picked up on it too, as she murmured later that evening. “She’s openly courting you, knowing we see it as futile. But she’s not ignoring Clark. If she ever really wants something from him, she’ll get it.”

“By seducing him,” Abner agreed morosely.

“We may once have thought that children have no interest in romance or sex. Now we know better, at least where sopaths are concerned. I don’t think we can prevent it except by banishing her from the family. Do we even want to?”

“You mean, let her seduce him?”

“It would probably amount to no more than intimate peeks and feels. Hand on penis, finger in vagina. I did it as a child, and surely you did too. It’s part of normal childhood curiosity, learning about the naughty parts. Maybe kisses. Pretending that she cares. That’s how she gets her way with boys when she trades for information. She’ll be doing that foraging for us, when we need her to. We know her nature; why not let her exercise it in positive ways?”

“But they’re children!”

“We were speaking of naiveté.”

She was right. He was being naïve. If Nefer was going to seduce anyone, Clark was probably better than Abner himself. “Maybe our best course is to give her reason to keep it positive. To support the family, though I’m not sure how.”

“If another sopath girl tried to seduce Clark, that could be lethal. Nefer could distract him from that worse threat.”

“Maybe so,” he agreed reluctantly. “Because Nefer probably won’t hurt him. She’s just shoring up her base.”

“True.”

They let it rest there, but Abner remained uneasy. They really did have a savage animal in their midst, behaving for now, but if that changed it could get extremely ugly in a hurry.

After a month on the road, during which they thoroughly polished their technique and identity as organizers, they came to the twin towns of Sweetpea and Sauerkraut. Abner felt an anticipatory chill, and knew the others did too.

“Remember,” Abner said. “Officially we are nothing more than an organization advice group. Participate, observe, and do not react if you see something relevant. They may be testing us.”

“Is there danger?” Clark asked, interested.

“There may be. Stay close to Bunty and me; don’t get separated from us.”

“But we doubt there’s real physical danger,” Bunty said reassuringly. “More likely we just won’t find what we’re looking for.”

“What about bugs?” Nefer asked.

“Good question,” Abner said, and saw her flush with pleasure. “If there is something going on, they could have mikes and cameras concealed everywhere. So from the time we enter either of those towns, assume someone is spying on us. Act normal. If you identify a sopath, ignore it until we’re out of there.”

“That’s too late,” Nefer said. “You need to be warned while it’s happening.”

He sighed. “Right again. Okay, let’s set up a code. What can it be?”

“If we call you father and mother, instead of daddy and mommy,” Dreda said enthusiastically.

“And whatever we say next will be a lie,” Clark said.

“I’ll do it too,” Nefer said. “I’ll call you father and mother.” She smiled almost wistfully. “I’d almost mean it. I like being with you, and not just because I want to get hold of Abner’s penis.”

“Daughters generally don’t want to get hold of their father’s penises,” Abner said.

Now there was nothing wistful about her smile. “You think? If you could read Dreda’s mind, would it be there?”

Dreda blushed. She was only five years old, but she knew. She must have had thoughts, and Nefer had picked up on them.

Abner exchanged a glance with Bunty. Nefer had set them back again. How many girls had Electra complexes to outgrow? How many boys similarly had Oedipus complexes? Did they really outgrow them, when so many married partners who resembled their opposite-gender parents? It was a sobering notion.

“So we have the code,” Bunty said firmly. “No need to discuss it further.”

Could that work? It was so simplistic as to be idiotic, but that might enable it to pass below the radar. “Okay.”