Mute (41 page)

The gross one made its way through the human refuse. It selected the best body for consumption, then methodically heaved the others into the river. Thus the problem of the mutilated living had been solved. In moments they would drown and be out of their misery.

“I should have done that,” Knot said. “I am responsible.”

“For the way the villagers attacked us? No,” Thea argued. “Had they simply let us pass—”

“It’s their nature to be suspicious of strangers. It’s a survival trait.”

She looked meaningfully at the floating bodies. “Not today.”

“There must have been some other way.”

“Your animal friends said no. We had either to give up our quest—or fight. We fought. We won.”

He shook his head as if to clear it of foul substance, but the foulness remained. “There has to be a better way than this!”

“Only by abolishing the enclave,” she said. “And what would the mutants do, in mainstream society? What would
I
do? There must be enclaves.”

“Then we must abolish the mutants themselves!” he exclaimed. “Arrange it so that no deformed person will ever be born again. Then there will be no need for enclaves.” He had been over this argument before, in other circumstances, but never resolved it. For the obvious rejoinder—

“And no interstellar travel, no galactic colonization, no unified human civilization,” Thea said, providing it. “I remember that much from the limited schooling I had before I come here. Without mutancy,
I
would not exist,
you
would not exist.”

She, confined here for life, yet argued the case of the greater civilization beyond, that she could never experience, never share. “Yes, we would exist,” he said. “We would be normals!”

To that she had no answer. He knew she was only trying to distract him, to soften the impact of his self-incrimination, but he could not thank her for that. Perhaps, he realized, he wanted to suffer, since there seemed to be no other punishment for his crimes.

We must save the diamond,
Hermine thought, communicating only now that his own thoughts had run their course.

The diamond! That remains?

Yes. Mit says it is in the water, deep.

How could it fall and not shatter?

Strella shielded it with her body as she fell. She wanted it to be preserved for her friend.

“Thea, the diamond is in the river,” Knot said. “Hermine will tell you where it is, if you will—”

“Diamond!” she exclaimed, and Knot remembered that he had not informed her of its existence. But evidently Hermine was doing that now. “Yes, of course.” Thea slipped into the water and plunged down.

In a moment she returned, holding it. “I like your psi-animals,” she said. “They know exactly where to go. By myself I could never have found it; this way it was easy.”

“You realize we shall not be keeping it,” Knot warned. “It must be delivered. She sacrificed her life with the understanding—”

Thea hefted herself up to sit beside him. “Have I kissed you before? I don’t remember.”

“More than that,” Knot said. “Last night—”

“I’m glad.” She kissed him again. “I know you’re feeling very unclean right now. That’s because you haven’t lived here very long. You retain that spark of human decency. That is a greater treasure than any diamond.”

Knot found himself flattered, and felt guilty even for that. “Nevertheless, the diamond shall be delivered. If it is humanly possible.”

“Of course it shall be delivered. It is worthless in the enclave anyway. How could I trust you to keep faith with me, if you did not keep faith with Strella? And the gross one’s message, too.”

Ah yes, the message. Knot joined the gross one and squeezed: WILL YOU GIVE ME THE MESSAGE NOW? IT SHOULD BE KNOWN TO US ALL, IN CASE ONLY ONE ESCAPES.

SOON, the gross one replied, and continued eating.

First things first,
Hermine thought.

Knot returned to Thea and looked at the diamond. It was not large as throwing stones went, but seemed big enough for what it was. How was he to carry it safely without losing it? He had no clothing now, no pockets, and though it had little value here in the enclave, he did not want to advertise its presence. Finally he put it in his mouth, tucking it into a cheek; he would have to remember not to swallow it.

•  •  •

When they had cleaned up what remained of the mess, setting the fragments of the pain-psi’s shack neatly on the bank, they proceeded downstream again. But this day was done. They located a place to stay safely, and they retired early.

Thea moved into his arms again, and he took her with a savage kind of desperation that made splashes in the water. It wasn’t sex he needed, so much as her implicit reassurance of his worth, and she was surely aware of that. She was in her way as nice a girl as he had known, and once again he was sorry for what he could not do for her.

And in the night he dreamed of Finesse, and knew it was no dream. Hermine was transmitting the next message, as he had asked her to.

“Hello again, Hermine. Sometimes I can almost believe I receive your response, but I’m sure that’s wishful thinking. I had another nice, relaxed day, but somehow I was bothered by irrational thoughts of violence and death. I am getting paranoid, of course, anticipating Piebald’s machinations—which is probably exactly what he wants. Yet what can I do? If I had any paranormal power, I would surely use it to escape this trap. But I am hopelessly normal, and in this case that spells my doom. Perhaps I should be minimally thankful that the lobo effort is being diverted this way; at least it may spare some other party similar grief.

“Little Klisty pulled a cute little-girl stunt today. She walked out on the pool’s diving board in dress clothing as if somnolent, hands outstretched before her, fingers vibrating. ‘I detect water!’ she exclaimed. ‘That way!’ And she pointed into the sky—and fell off the board to land in the pool with a great splash. Fat Lydia was sunning herself at the pool’s edge eating crackers, and she and the food got soaked; she was furious, while old NFG laughed his head off. He conjured a poor image of a jackass laughing. It was obviously intentional mischief on Klisty’s part, and finally we all were laughing. That was the only time I felt relief from tension. I bless this child for it, foolish as her prank was.”

Finesse projected the image of a girl climbing out of a pool, her fancy dress plastered to her thin body, honey-colored hair matted across her face so that two brown eyes gleamed from between strands. She was indeed a cute child, Knot thought. But her psi talent was not remarkable. Why did Piebald want her? He could not plan to torture her to reveal her supposed psi, since it was already known. The same went for the other two prisoners there. If Piebald was planning to lobotomize them, why didn’t he simply get on with it? Knot, like Finesse, feared the answer would not be pleasant.

“Otherwise, only the underlying tension prevented this day from being dull,” Finesse continued. “Piebald has not shown his mottled face. Perhaps what he said is true: he really is married, and goes home to his family when not occupied in brutality. I wonder how he treats his wife? Is she a lobo too? Does she approve his activities? Why should I even care? Obviously she does nothing to inhibit them, if she exists at all. If I were married, I would certainly see that my husband didn’t—oh, that bothers me for some reason, I don’t know why, and anyway it’s irrelevant.”

So her memory of her husband had indeed been erased, as Hermine had thought. CC had acted with inhuman logic to prevent any complications rising from that information. Only a peripheral concern remained, leaving her confused. Knot knew he would have to tell her, when he rescued her—and that telling would probably restore her full experience, and her love for that other man. But it had to be done. Knot would lie in some circumstances, but not in that one.
Damn
CC for sending him a married woman!

“The automatic facilities provide for our gustatory and sanitary needs, but there is no formal entertainment. All we can do is eat, sleep, swim and talk. There are no books, no holo films, no travel tours. I am learning the life histories of my companions, and providing them with my own, though there seem to be some years in my life I cannot account for. Maybe I was on a secret CC mission, and it was blanked out, though I’m not satisfied that was it. The lobos know I am a CC agent, so I need to maintain no secrecy about that. My chief novelty seems to be the fact that I am normal. The others are perplexed that I should be here, and sympathetic. They know they will be lobotomized; they expect me to be tortured before being lobotomized too. I fear they are correct. I wish only that whatever is scheduled to happen would hurry up and happen; the more time that passes, the better I get to know and like my companions, and the more their fate will hurt me when it comes.”

And that, Knot realized, was the answer to one riddle. Piebald was delaying his assorted tortures so as to enable the victims to get to know each other well; then he could use each one as leverage against the others. Finesse just might be tortured by being forced to betray her new friends.

“I hope you are well, Hermine. I think that’s the one thing the lobos
don’t
know about: you and Mit. I am conditioned not to reveal your nature, and I doubt the lobos have any telepath to extract it from my mind. I hope whatshisname made it back to your suitcase—I know I sent
someone
, and he must have been the one, otherwise I would remember—and freed you before he got into trouble. Mit predicted he would make it, but wasn’t sure what would happen thereafter, so doubts persist.

“In fact, the man seems to have a predilection for getting into complex situations that Mit cannot analyze ahead. That of course is one reason CC selected him; enemy precogs would have the same problem with him. In fact, CC did run some distance precog checks on him, and they came out hopelessly fuzzy. So I’m sorry Mit could not foresee what would happen after whatshisname opened the suitcase, but I know you two are resourceful. Keep yourselves safe, and if you reach me, try to reach another CC agent who is visiting this planet. In fact, if you are receiving this, don’t bother to come to me, after all; you now have enough information to enable CC to act. Leave the planet, sneak onto a space ship if you have to, get to a CC access terminal, tell CC to crack down on the lobos instantly. That will stop the illicit lobotomies. I
’
m aware I’m a hostage; I will be killed the moment CC forces approach this hideout. But this is a necessary sacrifice for the cause. My fate is sealed regardless. Somehow we must get word out about what the lobos are doing. Goodnight.”

The sending ended that suddenly. She must have gotten tired. What a brave and good woman she was! She, like Strella, was willing to sacrifice herself for the sake of her mission. But he, Knot, was made of different stuff.
He
would not sacrifice her for the mission. He would rescue her! She had already armed him with good information about her whereabouts and situation. Even if her nightly news bulletins stopped, they would be able to locate the volcano and villa, thanks to Mit’s clairvoyance.

Knot permitted himself to sleep, bathed in his love for her. It was not that there was anything wrong with the mermaid in his arms; it was just that Finesse—well, she was the one. He would see that her courage was rewarded. Somehow. Even if it meant restoring her to the man she really loved, her husband.

He, Knot, could do worse than returning here to the enclave river to be with Thea. He would be safe from the lobos here; they were too much like normals to risk themselves in the enclave. Yet he knew this was no adequate answer; the isolation from civilization would grind him down, and the constant brutality of this environment. Also, he could not give Thea what she required. Only the man Mit would locate could do that. So Knot had to give her up to another man, too. And, he knew with sudden conviction, that he would. That would be his private personal vindication: that he did, in the end, what was right.

He felt happier with himself than he had before. His self-loathing was lifting. All the lies and killings along the way were leading to at least a small measure of good.

•  •  •

In the morning he went through the required introductions and explanations, and the memories of him came back. Since Thea and the gross one remembered each other, and Thea had been in contact with Knot all night and he seemed to be partially resistant to psi, they both recovered fairly readily.

They continued down the river. Only the bind blocked them from the ocean. They arrived at it near midday.

The bind was impressive. Here the walls of the canyon were fashioned of some harder, more durable rock, that the moving water could hardly wear down. They closed in, asserting their dominance, looming above, finally forming a natural bridge. This bridge thickened until it became a full dam that blocked off the river entirely. Yet the water did not overflow; it formed into a deep pool in which a whirlpool gyrated.

“Not safe to pass through that,” Thea advised them, looking toward the vortex. “It is a virginally tight aperture, with a lot of water pressure. Any living thing of our size would be crushed. There are some cavern passages that get through, but unless you can swim as well as I can—”

“What alternatives do we have?” Knot asked, staring up at the looming rock face. Sunlight cut across it, making stark shadows that became more extensive below, until at water level all was shadowed. He felt slightly claustrophobic. If the base was this dark at midday, what was it like at any other time?

“There are other caverns above the water level—but the rat folk live there. I never had to deal with them. You know how mutants are about strangers.”

Knot had recently learned, certainly. His prior experience in Enclave MM 58 had hardly prepared him for this one in TZ 9. MM 58 had been min-mute; this was max-mute. The difference was far greater than the superficial classifications. That had been basically compatible and happy; this was isolated and savage.