Antagonist - Childe Cycle 11 (142 page)

"I'm
not
sure
I
understand
you,"
Bleys
responded,
hoping
for
a clarification
of
some
kind,
"and
that's
unusual
enough
to
be
interesting."

"You
don't
understand
me
because
I'm
talking
of
things
outside your
experience,"
Hal
said.
"I
came
to
talk
to
you
here—as
I'll
always
be
willing
to
come
to
talk
to
you—because
I've
got
to
hang
on to
the
hope
you
might
be
brought
to
consider
things
beyond
the scope
of
what
you
look
at
now;
and
change
your
mind."

"You
talk
like
a
grandfather
talking
to
a
grandson,"
Bleys
said. He
told
himself
he
should
show
anger
at
the
condescension
he
had perceived,
but
he
was
not
angry.

"I
didn't
mean
to,"
Hal
said.
He
showed
no
contrition.
"But
the hard
fact
is,"
he
went
on,
"you've
had
only
one
lifetime
from
which to
draw
your
conclusions.
I've
had
three.
It
took
me
that
long
to become
human;
and
because
I've
finally
made
it,
I
can
see
how you,
yourself,
fall
short
of
being
the
full
human
being
the
race
has
to
produce
to
survive
the
dangers
it
can't
even
imagine
yet.
Like
it or
not,
that
experience
is
there,
and
a
difference
between
us."

And
that
quickly,
the
floor
fell
out
from
beneath
Bleys'
mental feet—Hal
was
back
into
that
strangeness
of
moments
earlier,
and Bleys
was
lost.
Searching
for
something
to
use,
he
fastened
on
Hal's words
about
becoming
a
"full
human
being."

"I
told
you
you
were
an
Other,"
he
said.

"Not
exactly,"
said
Hal.
"If
you
remember,
you
left
me
to
infer
it. But
I'm
splitting
hairs.
In
a
sense
you
were
right.
In
one
sense
I
am
an Other,
being
a
blend
of
all
that's
new
as
well
as
all
that's
old
in
the race.
But
I'm
not
the
kind
of
Other
who's
Everyman.
Your
kind,
if
it survives,
are
at
best
going
to
be
a
transient
form
of
human.
Mine,
if
it does,
will
be
immortal."

A threat?

"I'm
sorry,"
Bleys
said.
"I
don't
have
a
kind.
I'm
my
own
unique mixture."

"As
are
we
all,"
Hal
said,
nodding.
"But
what
matters
is
that
on
top of
your
own
talents,
you
were
raised
on
Association
by
a
family
that was
pure
Friendly,
and
it's
that
which
dominates
in
you."

The
shift
in
the
conversation,
from
Hal
to
Bleys
himself,
was startling.

Why did he bring that up? And what does he mean by it?

"Where
did
you
find
records
that
told
you
that?"
Bleys
asked.

"I
know,"
Hal
said,
his
tone
weary
again,
"that
the
official
records of
your
birth
and
movements
all
show
what
your
brother
fixed
them to
say."

"Then
what
makes
you
say
something
like
this?"

"The
correct
knowledge.
An
absolute
knowledge
that
comes from
joining
together
bits
and
pieces
of
general
records
that
hadn't been
tampered
with—because
there
was
no
reason
to
tamper
with them—at
the
Final
Encyclopedia.
I
put
them
together
only
a
year ago,
and
then
made
deductions
from
them
using
something
I
taught myself
during
my
first
trial
of
life.
It's
called
intuitive
logic."

"First trial of life"?
Bleys
found
himself
frowning,
and
wiped
it away
as
giving
away
too
much
of
himself.

"Ah,"
he
said;
and
found
himself
suddenly
making
a
mental
connection
to
Hal's
words
about
his
method
of
thinking.
"I
believe what
you're
talking
about
may
be
what
I've
been
calling
interval thinking."

"The
name
hardly
matters."

"Of
course
not,"
Bleys
said,
almost
shrugging.
"So
there's
more to
learn
about
you
than
I'd
imagined.
But
tell
me,
why
place
so much
emphasis
on
the
fact
that
part
of
what
I
am
by
inheritance and
upbringing
may
be
Friendly?"

"For
one
reason,"
Hal
said,
with
a
slight
air
of
being
patient,
"because
it
explains
your
ability
of
charisma,
as
well
as
that
of
those
Others
who
have
it
to
some
extent
or
another.
But
I'd
rather
you
called yourself
Faith-Holder
than
Friendly.
Because,
more
than
anyone
on all
the
worlds
suspects,
it's
a
form
of
Faith-Holding
that
rules
you. You
never
were
the
bored
crossbreed
whose
only
concern
was
being comfortable
during
his
own
brief
years
of
life.
That
was
a
facade,
a false
exterior
set
up
in
the
first
place
to
protect
you
from
your
older half-brother,
Dahno—who
would
have
been
deathly
afraid
of
you
if he'd
suspected
you
had
a
purpose
of
your
own."