Tomorrow’s Heritage (35 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY

ooooooooo

THE Chaos had been reborn in the subterranean apartments. Todd’s contact with Dian fed to Ames and Fairchild and all the others in the Spacer underground. They had been waiting, hoping, and now, on Pat’s orders, the security barriers were down. Strangers, people Todd didn’t know, had been admitted to SE Mainland HQ and ushered into the command center. One by one, they were assuring Pat of their support and patience—
if
he did something to stop the madness looming over them all.

More orders going out. Aides and bodyguards running to and fro. A steady update from Carissa’s doctors on her delicate state. Holding, so far. Just like the impossible tension between Earth and its first space station. People shouting at each other or whispering together. Former enemies and political opponents uniting in panic. Fairchild coming in, taking Pat’s hand in her bony one, praising him for his courage.

She knew. The entire world didn’t yet know. But Fairchild knew, was giving Pat a chance to repair the damage, rather than capitalizing on his tragedy to the benefit of her Third Millennium Movement. She acknowledged his superiority as an orator, as a favorite of humanity, and sacrificed.

They were all doing that, or trying to. Again and again, JaeI came on the com, insisting that Pat make her the scapegoat. He kept brushing her aside impatiently, too busy to argue. Then, once, sharply, he said, “It’ll probably come to that, Mother. I advise you to stay put at Saunderhome. I have more clout than Galbraith and the others, and I’ve got certain troops watching you right now. When I’m through at Protectors of Earth, we’re going to talk about this and figure out just what you and I have to do to appease the world.”

Abruptly, Jael broke the connection. Pat scowled, running his hands through his hair, looking around. Todd was standing in the corner, watching. The dreaded confrontation had taken place. He had caused it. Caused all this panic—just as he had caused, indirectly, the panic resulting from the Project Search announcement.

“Kid?” Todd came up out of his dazed shock. Pat was pointing at the screen where Jael’s image had been. “Can you shut her off? Bottle her up? Pull the telecom plug on her? I’ve got so damned much to try to say—I can’t afford to have Mother butting in now, of all times.” More to it than that. He couldn’t afford to have Jael, the dowager queen, reaching out from Saunderhome with telecom lines, calling on her assassins, on the hidden people who owed her, worsening the crisis with her meddling.

“I’m warning you, Todd . . .”

And her eyes had warned Pat, during that call. Obey Mother. Toe the line. Or . . .

Jael Hartman Saunder had her own warped plans for the future, stifi hoped to carry them out, with or without her children’s cooperation.

“I’ll try,” Todd said breathlessly. “I can control ComLink, sure. The thing is, she’s probably put in alternate sources. Do you know how much she’s added on in that defensive wall around the island?” Morosely, Pat shook his head. “Convoluted. That’s what this all is, what
she
is.”

“Then I’ll be that way, too, if I must. Like Mother, like son.” Pat’s chuckle was acid. The strangers and his aides were crowding in, all demanding his attention, each one with a political damage report, in effect. Pat attempted to handle a dozen conversations at once. “You contacted Li Chu? Okay. At least that much is straight. She’s with us? Well, you make plain I’ve got to have the full assembly. Everybody. Todd will give me global and Goddard—”

“I don’t know if I can get through to Goddard with ComLink,” Todd warned. “Even with the military helping us.” He saw the look on Pat’s face. “I’ll do my damnedest. Just pray they listen.”

“Mari will. She’s never been vindictive. We’ll need to—” Pat suddenly was riveted by a report coming over a nearby monitor. Readouts were rippling across it. Todd was too far away and at the wrong angle, unable to see it. Pat’s reaction was awesome. He grabbed a chair and burled it at the screen. Plasticene and circuitry showered the room and its occupants, sparks flying, as Pat raged. “Those goddamned stupid. . . Todd? Galbraith’s gone underground, and Weng’s executing half his country in the worst purge since . . . they’re hooking up with Riccardi’s people to—”

He rushed toward Todd, gripping his biceps, shaking his brother in his agitation. They faced each other across the years, love and blood canceling the jealousies, the differences.

“Goddard.
And
Earth targets!” Todd said. “The last gamble. To take out all their opponents. You’re one, too, if you tell what’s been going on in the Enclave and with Saunder Enterprises . . .” Todd was stricken for Pat’s sake.

“But I’m going to. Nothing’s going to stop me.” Again Todd saw that glint of martyrdom shining in those fathomless pale eyes. “You know, something Dian said . . . she’s right. We really
are
primitives, aren’t we, kid? Toddlers. Infants. Barely able to stand on our feet, and we’re trying to kill one another.”

Around them, a dozen monitors chattered, whispered conversations went on. The broken terminal sizzled and popped, dying. But for a moment, Todd and Pat were utterly alone. Pat took a long breath. “I want my child to see that future you and Dian and Mari have been talking about, Todd. I’m going to make it happen. And to do that, I need help. I hate to ask it of you, after all I’ve done, all Mother’s done . . .”

“Goddard,” Todd said, nodding, understanding. He was afraid. And yet pride filled him, thickened his throat with unshed tears. His leg bust He still felt bruised from the rough handling the P.O.E. enforcement troopers had dealt out rescuing him. He was tired to the bone. But all that dropped into the background, like the monitor chatter and the conversations. Unimportant, physical white noise. Energy surged back into his exhausted limbs and mind. He stood up very straight, looking Pat in the eye.

“Can you get through to them? Hell, you’re probably the only one who can, now. The only one McKelvey might trust.”

“Not on the com. He knows what can be done with a translator-splitter.” Pat blinked. The idea had never occurred to him. Todd wished it hadn’t occurred to
him
. No other way. “I’ll go. I don’t think they’ll turn me back.”

He didn’t mention the other possibility—they might shoot him out of space before he could reach the Colony. Why should they trust anyone, after what had happened?

“Tell Mari . . . tell that blond maniac . . . tell them . . .” Pat bowed his head. “Tell them the truth, if they haven’t heard it. And beg them to give me a chance. I’m going to stop Weng and Ybarra and the other anti-Spacers. It’ll take time. I know that much about vectors and missile launchings. Ames and the other military who defected— no!—who stayed loyal to keep humanity alive, pinpointing the missiles the conspirators still have up there. Trying to disarm. Time. Beg for time, kid. Please. It’s got to stop here, all the evil I’ve done.”

“No, not you. Mother, loving too much and in the wrong way. And the tyrants who won’t give up their power,” Todd comforted him, hugging him, both of them tormented with the shame Jael had brought upon them.

“I let her. I knew it, subconsciously. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t . . . people
trusted
me, Todd! I promised them! Promised
you
. . . one more promise. What do you need?”

Uniting. Together against the other kids in the crater towns.

We Saunders are the best.

“An escort that’ll get me out into space in one piece.” Todd saw one of the strangers, a woman in military garb, smiling cryptically, nodding, giving him an okay-and-ready sign. One of Ames’s allies? Another Protector of Earth officer who hadn’t swallowed the anti-Spacer propaganda? “SE Trans Co shares a heavy lifter with P.O.E. Enforcement. I’ll need that. It’s probably at New York-Philly Terminal. God knows I haven’t got time to try to get to one of my shuttles in Orleans or Nairobi. After that . . .”

“Galbraith,” Pat was muttering, distracted. “That power-hungry . . . all of them! And to think I let them, right under my nose. Under Saunder Enterprises’ cover! God, kid, don’t get yourself killed because of this!”

“That goes for us both.” Todd forced his brother to look at him. “The backlash from your speech is bound to be terrible.”

“I deserve it. I’ll take it. But I’m not giving up. Not ever. Oh, Mari . . . !”

“Goddard’s defense-capable, Pat. They’ll make it. She’ll make it.”

“Ask her to forgive me. She was telling the truth and I wouldn’t listen,” Pat said. “I learn slow. But I learn forever.”

Awkwardly, shaking with wildfire emotions, they embraced again, then exchanged one final look. Each was acutely aware of the abyss awaiting the other, and awaiting Earth. Then Todd ran out the door, the uniformed woman and other guards and P.O.E. troopers galloping along with him.

Forever, to get the elevator upstairs to the vehicle park, then up to the roof.

Forever, to get Pat’s fastest flier airborne. One of his military-style craft. The woman, Ames’s ally, piloted. She was good, as reckless and skilled as Mariette Saunder, better at handling the craft than Todd could ever be. He resented his amateur status and the advanced equipment encasing him. Supercargo. But he was the most important supercargo these troopers would ever transport.

He made the necessary calls from the air, en route to the space terminal. Dian. Mikhail. Relay. Shut off Jael. Button up ComLink tight. It was Pat’s package, to carry his words to all the world. The whole system in top gear. All translator-splitters full function. Make the world believe. Choke off the plunge toward disaster before it could carry through on its desperate plan.

Taking forever to get to the terminal. The ship was set, but they had to gear up, program. You couldn’t operate a heavy orbital vehicle as you did a private flier.

The alien messenger, creeping across the astronomical units in a leisurely approach to Earth, on cosmic terms. Its electronic hand was out in greeting. Kusta. Talk, Earth. I am the Vahnaj messenger. I will talk to you.

For it, time was not of the essence. It had been traveling a very long while, in all probability. For Todd Saunder, straining to reach a space station at L5, time was a brutal enemy. He was racing the conspirators and the paranoia generated by Patrick Saunder’s speeches.

Earth First must rule.

But Earth First Party
was
Pat Saunder. And Pat Saunder was, at this moment, on his way to a podium at Protectors of Earth assembly, to ComLink’s visual and audial window to the world. And Pat Saunder was going to cancel every item on the Earth First Party platform, everything Jael Saunder had done in the campaign to make her son ruler of Earth.

Forever.

Ninety minutes to establish basic orbit. To link up with an IOTV. The suit systems couldn’t keep Todd’s sweat and shivering under control. He squirmed inside his protective gear and swam on his tether, in free fall once more, heading down a shining tunnel into another ship in parking orbit.

Not his ship. Military. Todd protested, saying Goddard would deem them hostiles. Their arguments overrode his. Faster than anything he owned. As fast as the Goddard Defense Units. The fastest ships humanity had yet flung into space. He had to concede.

Listen to me on the com, Mari. It’s me. I’m on board, Just as I was with Gib. This ship, these people with me—friends. We want to help you. Don’t shoot!

The launch from parking orbit drove most of the breath from him, slamming him into the couch, reddening his vision near blackout. Had he sweated an expensive burn on his little IOTV shuttle? This ship had many times the power, and nobody was counting the fuel expenditure at all. They were a meteor leaving Earth. Climbing, climbing, across orbits, rising, velocity impossible. One-quarter gravity, up to one-half gravity, the screens yowling, warning of the stresses on the ship.

Above the point where the tyrants had built their missiles, now. Masking them with holo-modes, like the false cubicles and their occupants, like the trees outside the Spacer hangar.

Ward Saunder had shared his genius with the world. How he would have alternately marveled at and raged against the uses to which they had put his work!

How many missiles had hit Goddard? How many were still hidden in orbit, ready for follow up strikes? How soon could McKelvey’s underground on Earth find them and disarm them? And if
more
were being built? It was a race. A long one. Distance, on Earth, could be reduced to a handspan by modem transport. In space, Todd Saunder still needed light-year boots to get where he was going fast.

Pat’s speech, coming up on the com. Delayed basis. They were far enough out that the signal was starting to show an infinitesimal lag between the time it left Earth and the time it arrived on the ship’s screens.

“Listeners, I have many things to tell you. I have made promises. I believed I could keep them. I still want to keep them. But I’ve learned that I have been lying to you. I didn’t know I was, yet that is what has happened. Earth First Party members, acting in my name, out of good and evil motives, have done terrible things. I am here tonight to tell you about them. And perhaps the worst of all is the lie about Saunder Enterprises Antarctic Enclave. The heritage of Earth’s tomorrow. The thousands sleeping there, awaiting the future. Many of them will never wake. I have killed them. People acting in my name have killed them, Listeners, and I must take full responsibility . . .”

Bleary-eyed, too anguished to weep, Todd watched him confess to the billions. And on another circuit, he continued to send out the call to Goddard, trying again and again to reach Mari. Blackout. If they were receiving—and they must be—they were refusing to answer him.

“. . . payments made. Decisions to turn off the machines and kill the helpless people within the cubicles. I am sorry. I can never bring them back. I can only offer myself, my life, to atone. And I can bring to light the hideous mockery these people have committed in secret!”

Patrick Saunder. All the nuances of that voice, all the power of that presence. Thousands of kilometers away, yet beside Todd in the spaceship hurtling up toward Goddard.

The vain adolescent, posturing in front of a mirror, running his hand through his hair, turning his left profile—his best one—to his non-existent audience. He had learned to use those striking, hypnotic eyes, to hold his own gaze, as he now held the gaze of an entire planet.

Was there anybody down there who wasn’t watching him, hearing him? Yes, there were probably those who were still working, scrabbling, even as he spoke, to commit still more crimes before Patrick Saunder might turn the tide of world opinion against them and drown them in the flood of revulsion.

He could do it, if anyone could.

Most important of all, was Goddard listening to him? Missiles poised to counterstrike, Mari
must
listen.