Mutant Star (25 page)

A dark cloud moved between him and the sun. He felt suddenly as though his insides were being torn apart, as though his skin were being flayed from his body, as though he were being drawn very thin, very fine, a long, attenuated rope of neurons, dendrites, bone, nerve, blood, and muscle stretching far, far, from space all the way down toward Earthfall and back again in a closed loop of life. The circuit that was Rick stretched, stretched. Then it snapped. He hurtled through blazing light, through heat, through pain. Blackness came. When he could see again, he was breathing, standing on warm sand beneath a blue sky dappled by fleecy white clouds.

Green waves rolled in, lapping up toward his feet. Dizzy, Rick sat down hard in the sand and felt its heat radiate through his clothing. His heart was pounding as though he’d run a mile. His head throbbed in pain.

It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be.

He lay back in the warm sand and closed his eyes, letting the ache in his head be leached away.

This is a delusion, he told himself. Just another strange vision. And when I open my eyes, I’ll be in space, on Hawkins’s Pavilion. Okay, I’m going to open my eyes now. One, two …

Three. He peered out cautiously. The glare of the sun overhead made him blink rapidly. The beach was still beneath him. The waves still came crashing in. He was back on Earth. Or crazy.

Rick began to laugh. He laughed until tears ran down his cheeks and a nude sunbather nearby lifted his head to stare. Rick kept laughing. And then he winked out, vanished, leaving nothing behind but an indentation in the sand in the shape of a man’s body.

He reappeared in the corridor just outside Hawkins’s office. Out of breath, knees buckling, he grabbed at the hall railing for support and just barely managed to seat himself on a blue floatcushion. His head pounded with pain and his lungs felt as though they were going to explode. But gradually the pain ebbed. His breathing slowed.

The hallway was deserted. Rick peered into Hawkins’s outer office. Empty save for a wallscreen.

The screen lit and a ruddy-faced man wearing a red cap smiled roguishly at him. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see the colonel.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No. I’m Rick Akimura.” And I don’t really need an appointment, he thought. Nor do I particularly like talking to virtual secretaries. Although I have to admit this one is state of the art.

“I’m terribly sorry …”

“Please tell the colonel I’m here and I’d like to see him.”

“But—”

“Won’t you at least try?”

“Very well.” The sim’s face took on an abstracted look. Then his dark eyes refocused on Rick. “Go right in.”

A door in the far wall slid open. Through it, Rick could see a wall of glass, and the cold face of the Moon beyond. He strode in.

Hawkins was sitting by the window, a bemused expression on his face.

“I assume you have a good reason for barging in here like this.”

“Colonel, I’ve decided to accept your proposal.”

“Are you certain? I seem to recall your telling me you wouldn’t do it even if you could.”

“That was before.”

A copper bowl filled with fruit sat on Hawkins’s desk. Rick levitated a plump yellow pear and began eating it. “I can’t tell you how much better I feel,” he said. “My appetite is stronger than ever.”

“I’m delighted to hear that. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

Rick gazed at the pear core in his hand. “What I realized is that I’d rather have a nice comfortable job inside than float around outside.” Rick tossed the pear core into the air. It vanished. “No thanks.”

Hawkins gave him a steely look. “Then you’re willing to work with me?”

“As house seer? Sure. As long as I receive salary plus participation.”

The colonel’s eyebrows curved into twin arcs. “Participation?”

“Yeah. For example, environmental disasters. Stock market plunges. Political assassination. All these things affect business.”

“But I thought it was impossible to change the future—”

“Who said anything about changing the future? I’m talking about profiting from it,” Rick said. “I want a piece of the pie, Colonel. Take it or leave it.”

“You don’t give me much room in which to maneuver.”

“That’s the idea.”

“Then I’ll take it.”

Rick smiled. “I thought you might.” He vanished, rematerializing near the gymnasium. He was barely winded.

Someone mindspoke to him. It was a high, thin female voice that echoed unpleasantly in his mind.

Rick. Rick Akimura.

The mindvoice had the effect of fingernails drawn along a slate board.

Who calls?

I am Paula Byrne, Book Keeper for the True Host.

He turned and saw a thin old woman with a cloud of white hair and bright golden eyes approaching him. She was dressed in the formal dark robes of the Book Keeper and looked vaguely familiar. Rick rummaged through his memory. Yes, Paula Byrne, who presided over that strange fundamentalist mutant cult in San Diego. What was she doing here? And hadn’t she been in his room when he awakened from the fugue?

You don’t remember me. I tended you during your healing sleep. I have come because you have been revealed to us. I come to ask you to do your duty. To share your gifts with us as you were meant to do. To partake of the Great Sharing.

I don’t understand. What are you talking about?

Your education in the Book has been lacking. No more than I expected. Touch my hand and I will show you.

The old woman approached him, eyes glowing with eagerness. She looked more than slightly crazy.

I’m not interested in whatever it is you want to show me.

Nevertheless, you must see it
. She grabbed his shoulder with thin, clawlike fingers and he felt a strange surge of energy dance down his spine. Images swirled through his mind: pages of the Book, the venerable mutant chronicle, foretelling the coming of a mutant who would provide the Great Sharing: a permanent connection between all mutants resulting in the All Mind.

Do you see? Do you see?

Rick wanted to pull away, but he was transfixed by the vision, and as it wavered and changed he stared, amazed. He was seated at the head of a huge table, presiding over an enormous sharing—he couldn’t even see the far end of the table. Thousands of mutants held hands, connected to him. They were riding on his mind, his energy. Vampires. They would suck him dry, if he let them. All the mutant mind parasites, the vampires.

“No!”

As Paula Byrne clawed desperately at him, Rick gave her a hard telekinetic push. With a shrill mindcry, she went sailing through the air, over the paddleball court to land with a splash in the quivering pool. For a moment she went under, then her head broke the surface of the water. She looked at him in astonishment and fear.

Stay away from me, old woman. I don’t want any part of your weird cult. I just want to be free to live my life
as I choose. I don’t owe anything to anybody, do you hear me? Nobody gave a damn about me before, when I was a null. So stay clear. If you come near me again, you’ll get hurt. That’s a promise.

He made the words echo in her mind a moment longer. Then he cut the link, and t-jumped back to his room.

.

******************

12

Skerry met Yosh and Melanie at the door. “You two sounded bad on the screen,” he said. “But you look worse. Like you’ve seen two ghosts. Come in and have something to drink. Lydda’s on the porch.”

Narlydda was slouched into a wicker and woven steel rocking chair. “Hi, both. What’s up?”

Melanie and Yosh sat down stiffly on the purple floor cushions. Their faces were very pale, even Yosh’s.

“We’ve had some strange news,” Melanie said.

“Strange? That’s my favorite kind,” Skerry said.

“It’s about Rick.”

“No surprises there.”

Melanie glared at him. “Actually, there’s every surprise. Rick has gone operant.”

“He’s developed a mutant skill?” Narlydda sat up. “How is that possible?”

“
Skills
. He’s a multitalent.”

“I’ll be damned,” Skerry said. “From null to multi. Neat trick.”

“But this is wonderful,” Narlydda said. She paused. “You don’t seem very pleased. Where is Rick?”

“He’s working for Ethan Hawkins on his orbital pavilion,” Yosh said.

Skerry frowned. “And I’ll bet Alanna is working right alongside him.”

“That’s why we came,” Melanie said. “Rick went into a fugue and they called a healer. Took a tissue sample.” Her voice grew hoarse. “We’ve discovered who the biological father of the twins is.”

“You have?” Skerry said, without much show of interest.

“Yes. We have.”

“Well, all right. So who is it?” Narlydda asked. “Don’t keep us in suspense.”

Melanie opened her mouth to speak but her voice seemed to fail.

“It’s Skerry,” Yosh said. “Beyond any doubt.”

“What?” Narlydda stared at her guests in anger and disbelief. “How can they know that?”

“They matched genetic footprints,” said Melanie.

“But I thought those records were lost.”

“So did we.”

“I can’t believe it,” Narlydda said. “I refuse to believe it. You’re going through change of life, Mel, and it’s unhinged you.” She looked toward Skerry, sitting quietly beside her, waiting for him to express his own outrage.

Instead, he shook his head, stood up, and walked to the bar. Slamming the red-enameled door open, he shoved the mech unit aside, grabbed a pale blue hypo, and jammed it against his arm. Narlydda watched, astonished. Valedrine? Skerry never touched it. Did this mean he believed Melanie’s wild story?

“You bet I believe her,” Skerry said. “Damn me for a fool. I donated to that sperm bank just for the hell of it, way back when. And I’d forgotten all about it. Figured that if anybody ever used my jism they’d spawn some two-headed monster. Good joke, huh?” He reached into the bar again, grabbed a red jack, and drank it in three gulps. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he swung around to face Narlydda. “Stop fighting it, Lydda. This is for real. As much as I hate to admit it. Rick and Julian are not only Mel and Yosh’s kids, but mine, too.” His eyes trapped hers in a relentless stare. “And that means Alanna is their sister.”

She looked away, out the windows into the darkness. There was no moon, no light anywhere save for the distant glow of the stars. Even they blurred and dimmed as tears began to trickle down her face. “Why?” she sobbed. “Why did you have to look, Mel? After all these years? What good has it done?”

“Do you think I went on a fishing expedition, hoping that I’d pull Skerry up on the end of the hook?” Melanie asked. “Narlydda, I’m sorry. This hurts me, too. I never wanted to know. But the information was forced on me. I almost didn’t tell you.”

Narlydda glared at her through her tears. “I wish you hadn’t! What will we say to Alanna? She’s got to be told right away.”

“Don’t you think we’d better talk to Rick about that?” Yosh said gently.

“She’ll probably join a nunnery,” Narlydda said.

Melanie nodded. “And I may go with her.”

Narlydda tried to smile but felt as though she were grimacing like a monkey. She wished Melanie and Yosh would leave so she could be alone with Skerry to lick her wounds, to slowly accept and encyst this new fact in her memory if she could, blunting its sharp edges with repeated exposure. She wanted to turn to Skerry, to lean into him and be leaned against until they both could stand on their own once more. Instead, she saw with dismay that Skerry was putting on his old leather jacket and heading toward the door.

“Where are you going?” she cried.

“Out. I need to be alone for a while. Mel. Yosh. See you later.” As they watched, Skerry seemed to grow more and more transparent until he had disappeared completely, and the three of them were gazing out the open door into the darkness.

“Narlydda, I’m sorry,” Melanie said. “I wish there had been some other way to do this.” She stood up, walked toward her tentatively, and reached out her hand.

Reluctantly, Narlydda stood and accepted the embrace. She gave Yosh a watery smile. “We’ll talk soon.”

She saw them to the door and wished them a safe trip. And managed to make it halfway up the stairs before she sank down, all alone, to hold herself, arms crossed in front, while she rocked and rocked and rocked, weeping.

***

Eva Seguy stared out the window, transfixed by the sight of the Moon. She wore an ivory satin tunic and leggings. Ethan Hawkins gazed down at the small woman and thought that she looked like a graceful sprite in the Moon’s silvery glow.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said. “I was afraid that up close it wouldn’t be, somehow.”