Worlds in Chaos (114 page)

“Let’s see how they sound when things start getting really tough,” Luke commented to Cade dourly.

Later, the sirens wailed, and they all moved into the gym to be on the safe side; but nothing happened.

After the all-clear sounded and the visitors had gone, Cade helped Marie move her things out of the guest room. There was an interval of unspoken awkwardness, of fussing too long to arrange hangers in the closet, or dwelling pointlessly on snippets of the evening’s talk and trivia dredged from the past. But closeness dissolved their misgivings. As Cade lay falling asleep, holding her, for the first time in all the turbulent years he could remember, he knew peace. Marie burrowed into the sheets and nuzzled her face against his chest.

“Cold nose,” he mumbled drowsily.

“It’s Mole Woman.”

In rediscovering Marie, Cade had finally discovered himself.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

News the next morning was that Washington was threatening action against the Canadian supply routes. The rebellion in Mexico was spreading southward into the Central American states. Little was said of events on the Midwest and Southwest fronts. Wyvex sent one of the mission’s flyers to collect Cade and Marie from the house. Again, damage was visible at several of the freeway interchanges and around LAX. Clara had said the previous evening that commercial flights over the Pacific had ceased for the time being. The Canada-Alaska route was being used for Asia.

On arriving, they found that a cordon of barriers and soldiers backed by military vehicles had been placed outside the mission’s perimeter fence. Facing them were groups of demonstrators numbering maybe several hundred, displaying banners and placards. They were orderly as of the moment but seemed surly and restless. Cade couldn’t pretend to be totally surprised.

Inside, they were greeted by Wyvex, still wearing his Navajo patch. He was pleased and intrigued to meet Marie at last. Vrel was out at UCLA with Mike Blair. They would be back later. “What’s going on outside?” Cade asked as they walked through into the building.

“Some anti-Hyadean feeling is surfacing. The documentary you two sent from South America didn’t help. Some Eastern units have been using Hyadean weapons in Arkansas. It makes us all the enemy to some people.” Cade nodded. It was pretty much as he had guessed.

The elaborate security procedures at reception were gone—a sign of independence from the Hyadean Washington office, Cade presumed—and Wyvex conducted them straight through to the open-plan work areas with their cream-painted walls and dull metal furnishings. On the way, they talked about events that had taken place with both of them since Cade’s departure for Atlanta, including another account of Julia’s demise. Cade saw that many of the screens were shut down, and none of those that were functioning showed the kinds of scenes that he remembered from direct connections to Chryse and the other Hyadean worlds.

There were more people about than had been usual before—Hyadean and Terran. Seemingly, the mission had become a collecting center for stray Hyadeans left in the western half of the country after the secession. Also, to ease travel problems, a number of Terrans who worked here had moved in. They took an elevator to the top floor. Wyvex showed Cade and Marie into Orzin’s office, and then left.

Orzin greeted them with smiles that made his unusually rounded Hyadean features look rubbery. He had shed his tunic top for a tan, casual jacket which he wore open over a shirt with a low-tone colored design. But it was colored—the Hyadean equivalent of a Wall Street banker showing up at the office in a beach shirt. Of course, Orzin was delighted to meet Marie. They went over a summary of the same salient events that Wyvex had gone through.

“So what exactly is going on here, Orzin?” Cade asked when they had settled down. “It seems like you’ve taken over the mission. Where does it stand? Are you some kind of independent, one-building, Hyadean nation state now, or what?”

“We are Chryse,” Orzin replied.

Cade shot Marie a puzzled look. She shook her head. “What do you mean?” he asked Orzin.

“We shall find again what Chryse once was. It will begin here.” Orzin spread a pair of pudgy, blue, oversize hands. “Here in this mission. Not, as you say, a one-building nation-state. A one-building planet! When I first came here from Chryse, I saw only the things that confirmed what we had been told. Earth was disintegrating in chaos and disorder. We had come to save it by introducing our system of organization and discipline. Of course, there were stubborn elements of the old structure that would not give up their traditional powers so easily. But, with the cooperation of the more enlightened interests that you have termed the Globalist Coalition, they could be induced to come around.” He held up a hand before either Cade or Marie could say anything.

“However, that wasn’t the way things were. This system that Hyadeans have been conditioned to serve is a lie by which a layer of social parasites drains them of everything they produce. They do it by convincing them of the need to subjugate themselves to a higher authority that knows and represents the greater good of all. In doing so, they rob them not only of the right to think as individuals, but even of awareness of their ability to. And so they are made into expendables: sacrificial objects to enrich the lives of others.

“What I began to see on Earth after I had been here some time was not what I had been told to see. I saw a world of
individuals
, with different ideas and choices about how they wanted to live their lives. And yes, at times those differences caused disagreement and strife. But it was not a pathological world destroying itself in chaos; it was world of variety and vigor asserting its nature: the right to be
free
.” Orzin showed his hands in a despairing gesture. “Yet in spite of all that, the same forces that enslaved Chryse are operating here. And
those
are the forces that we have been allying with. Other Hyadeans see it too. That is why Luodine and Nyarl are here. And Hudro and Yassem . . . and many others.”

Cade frowned at the top of the desk with its several displays, rewritable paper pads with strings of Hyadean characters, and assortment of other objects, the function of all of which was not obvious. He feared that Orzin was oversimplifying. Earth’s history showed a far less consistent and universal dedication to such values than the picture he was painting. . . . But if that was what he was seeing, Cade wasn’t about to muddy the issue now.

Marie was all attention, looking as if she wanted to believe what she was hearing but just couldn’t see it. “But you just told us, you’re a one-building operation. Do you really think you can change anything?” she said.

“Us, no. But the people of Chryse can. The people of all the Hyadeans worlds . . .” Orzin waved a hand high, as if inviting them to visualize it.

“We were talking about that yesterday,” Cade said. “It’s what Hudro and I tried to get across in Beijing.”

Orzin nodded. “I know. Hudro told me. Hyadeans don’t question what they see and what they are told. That was what made them exploitable on such a scale. But that same fact means they won’t tolerate deception. Luodine saw the same thing.”

“But what can just a few of you
do
?” Marie asked again.

Orzin gestured as if it should have been obvious. “Show them the deception. Tell the real story to Chryse. That’s her business.”

“But Xuchimbo controls all the channels,” Cade said.

“The official channels, yes,” Orzin agreed. “But who said we have to use those?” He turned one of the flatscreen pads around on the desk and pushed it across, at the same time uttering commands. An image appeared that Cade and Marie had seen before in New Zealand and China: themselves, narrating the documentary recorded at Tevlak’s house in Bolivia. It took Cade a moment to register that there was something different. The sound had been dubbed. The voices he heard were speaking in Hyadean. He looked up, nonplussed. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

“That’s you two,” Orzin said needlessly. “You know the item. This is a recording of a version of it that went out
across Chryse
last night!” He looked from one to the other, noted their incredulous looks with evident satisfaction, and went on before they could ask, “Luodine tried to get her agency to put it out, but the people in charge there wouldn’t do it. Too obedient to the system. So Yassem decided that if there was no way through the official net, she’d go around it. She used our facilities here to access the Xuchimbo system, and piggybacked a coded message on their outgoing trunk beam that the Querl intercepted.
They’re
doing the broadcasting for us!”

Marie stared. “Querl? You mean the rebel worlds?”

“Yes! Amazing, isn’t it! That was several days ago now. The Querl have positioned an arc of their own relays somewhere outside of Earth—they can’t come as far in as orbit, since the Chryseans control near space. So we have our own link now. We lose contact for a little under ten hours each day.”

Cade was having trouble taking it in. “Querl?” he repeated. “You mean they’ve showed up
here
. . . in our Solar System?”

“Well, they’re out there somewhere, anyhow,” Orzin replied, waving a hand vaguely. “And you can bet the Chryseans are out there looking for them too. But it’s a lot of space to get lost in. And they have sophisticated ways of deploying decoys and switching the incoming return signals around to make it impossible to get a sure fix on where the relays are.”

Cade and Marie looked at each other, stupefied.
They
were being broadcast around alien star systems light-years away . . . ?

“And you two aren’t the only news that’s going out. Luodine and Nyarl have been collecting material from all over.” Orzin voiced more commands in Hyadean. The image on the screen changed to show Luodine speaking to the camera, and then soldiers and rescue workers pulling dazed and bleeding figures from wrecked vehicles scattered and upended all ways in front of a background of burning buildings. “A refugee column hit by an air strike near Minneapolis,” Orzin commented. It was followed by an aircraft’s gun-camera view of missiles flaming away and bursting among trucks halted on the approach to a pontoon bridge. Figures were jumping out, fleeing, falling. . . . “FWA fighter-bombers attacking one of the Mississippi crossing points.” Then there was Luodine again, superposed on a desert scene littered with knocked-out armor. “Aftermath of a tank duel south of Odessa, Texas. There’s lots more.” Orzin looked across at Cade and Marie pointedly—as if this could have significance out of all proportion to appearances. “According to the first reports we’re getting back from Querl sources, it’s creating a sensation back home. This is the first time anyone has reported anything direct from the other side of what’s been happening on Earth. We must be doing something right. Reactions from the Chrysean government are furious. Naturally, they’re denouncing it all as Querl propaganda and fakery. But people on Chryse are taking notice. Luodine’s face is familiar there. They know she talks straight.” Orzin wagged a finger. “But that’s not all. She doesn’t want to just sit here passing on news that comes in. Her style has always been to go out herself and find it. She’s persuaded the Air Force to provide her and Nyarl with a jet to turn into a mobile studio. You’d have to hear her enthusiasm to believe it. I think she has finally discovered what she really wants to do.”

In an NBC news studio at the Rockefeller Center in New York, Casper Toddrel gazed somberly at the camera showing “live” and completed the address that he had prepared as part of a public relations effort being coordinated from the White House. “It will be a painful duty. It will not be a pleasant duty. But it is a necessary duty. For as long as it takes, we cannot speak of these places as belonging to America anymore. They have become an extension of foreign power into this continent. The next step will be a bridgehead for invasion. We, in the East at this hour, stand as the last bastion of defense for the values that America has always stood for. The people in California and Oregon, New Mexico and Montana are not our enemy. The enemy is the corrupt gang of traitors and opportunists who have turned Sacramento into a provincial capital of China. I ask you all to stand by us and our Hyadean allies to reverse this tragic aberration that had befallen us. We can, and we will, not only bring all of America back into the fold, but build out of it a stronger and more united America than has ever existed. A new United States, purged, reformed, revitalized, fit not only to assume again its rightful place as leader among the nations of this world, but to establish this world as a full and equal partner, enjoying all due rights and dignity, in the wider community of our newfound interstellar cousins.” Toddrel paused to let his audience contemplate the vision, then nodded solemnly. “Thank you.”