Stackpole, Michael A - Dark Conspiracy 02 (14 page)

BOOK: Stackpole, Michael A - Dark Conspiracy 02
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One was a pyramid and another had two holes in the center. While each looked to Rajani to be different in overall shape, each could be broken own into small, boxy apartment components.

It’s like dwellings put together from building blocks.

Rajani saw the crane lifting a metal container and slowly lowering it into place on a new stack of buildings. They usedtoship things in containers like thisbeforeIwentinto stasis. Now they cut a window in them and house people.

As the box descended, two workers snapped power and plumbing connectors in place, linking the upper apartment with the one below it.

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“There, on the bottom row, that’s our apartment.”

Dorothy started crossing a side street and heading toward the building.

Rajani grabbed her arm. “Wait. They’re still building there. Is it safe?”

Dorothy frowned at her. “Of course it’s safe. You ride for a while, then there’s a bump and it’s business as usual.”

“You mean you stay in the thing when it is moved?”

Dorothy answered her with a withering stare. “You’ve never had a contiminimum moved on you?”

Rajani shook her head. “No, never. Why would they move it?”

The girl shrugged. “The Mormon Polys must have moved some folks in to unbalance this district.” She pulled her arm free from Rajani’s grasp and continued to the building. The man operating the crane shouted something at her, but she just flipped him off and walked up to apartment #49337629. Mickey tugged on Rajani’s arm and led her across the street.

The first thing that hit her about the apartment was the scent of stale beer and even more stale sweat. Its sharp odor made her wince and almost caused her to vomit. At first she thought something must have died in there, then she realized that impression came from the stench combined with the level of mental activity she sensed from inside the dark box.

Mickey twisted his hand free of hers and went flying through the room. He hugged the shin of the slender, pale man sitting in a recliner. The light from the huge black-and-white television painted the man in cadaverous tones of white and gray. He clutched a beer can in his right hand and stared without blinking at the pictures moving across the screen. Though his left hand rested two inches from Mickey’s head, he seemed not to notice his son, and made no move to greet him. The remote control remained in that hand as firmly as if it had been grafted on.

Rajani looked up as light from a refrigerator splashed out into the room from the middle of the apartment.

Dorothy bent over and stuck her head into the white box, then straightened up and cursed. “On the Coors diet
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again, eh, Dad?” Anger and concern mixed in her voice, and Rajani knew Dorothy feared the worst for both her father and her brother.

Rajani choked down the lump in her throat. “This is your father?” Contempt filled her words and radiated out from her like sound waves from a tuning fork. Mickey’s head snapped up. “This is the reason you wanted to come
home?

Dorothy closed the refrigerator door, cloaking herself with darkness. “He is my
father.
We are family.” She didn’t say it, but Rajani knew Dorothy clung desperately to something that was bad because it was better than having nothing.

The man in the chair stirred a bit. “Dot? Getcher pa a beer?” His right hand opened, and the can it held dropped out of sight.It clattered heavily into an unseen aluminum midden and, from the sound it made, Rajani knew it had not been empty.

“Sure, Da.” The refrigerator door opened, and a silvery can appeared in Dorothy’s hand. “Incoming, Da.”

Mickey looked up to watch his sister arc the can through the air toward her father. The can rotated nicely, making for an easy catch, but the man in the chair did nothing to grab it. It would have slammed into his stomach, but Rajani crossed the three steps to the chair and snagged it before it landed.

The cold can sent a shiver up her spine. Rajani looked over at Dorothy. “Go clean your brother up. Get him ready for bed.” She set the unopened can down in the man’s right hand. “Your father and I are going to talk.”

“Dot, getcher dad a beer,” he mumbled.

Dorothy started to protest, but Rajani’s eyes narrowed and let her know that nothing could be done to win a contest of wills at this point. Mickey looked from Dorothy to Rajani and back, then slowly released his father’s leg and headed off down the narrow corridor beside the kitchen. Reluctantly, Dorothy followed him.

Rajani moved and cut off the man’s view of the television. His left thumb punched buttons on the remote control, but nothing changed. He blinked his eyes once, then twice in rapid succession. The slack muscles of his
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face tightened, giving some shape to his stubbly cheeks.

His mouth closed, then his tongue licked dry lips.

”Whaaaa?”

“What am I?” Rajani drove an axe blade of sheer terror through the man’s mind. She chopped through his stupor and saw what memories arose in response to the fright she projected into him. She raced past his fear of failing his children, the despair from the death of his girlfriend and the pain of losing his wife. What she wanted was deeper and more primal. She sliced down in until she blew by his adolescence and touched the memories he recorded when he was little older than Mickey. “That’s right, I’m the Grimmand,” she growled, co-opting the name of the bogeyman his mother used to frighten him with. “I’ve come to see what sort of man would sell his children before I rip him to pieces.”

She grabbed the beer can in her right hand and punched her golden nails through the front of it. Beer sprayed out over his face and torso, then she tossed the foaming can down into the pile beside his chair. “Greed, sloth, gluttony or the greatest sin—stupidity. Which was it?”

The man stared at her wide-eyed with terror. “Not sold, not sold...”

“Don’t lie to me!” Rajani yanked free the memory of his handing Dorothy and Mickey over to his brother Andy.

“Get a good price for her, and whatever you can get for him!”She made those words echo again and again inside his head. She used them to shatter his self-image and in her anger it took her a second or two to realize how easily it had collapsed. Within the shards of a heroic granite statue, she discovered a wailing infant and, as she watched, it regressed in age to the point where it could no longer survive.

He’s dying. He has no will to live. He’s been killing himself by inches since they left. She projected herself into his mind and scooped him up into her arms.« No, you cannot die on me. Your daughter needs you. Your son needs you. You will live for them.»

The infant looked up at her with an ancient weariness in its eyes. Its mouth opened, but its tiny lungs couldn’t power out a scream. Its little fingers grasped at nothing, silently signing its inability to succeed at anything.«
I
am worthless. Let me go!»

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Rajani shook her head, and a golden lock curled through the premature baby’s right palm. The fist closed on it, and the baby clutched at it with all its failing might.

Rajani knew he wanted to pull on her hair and hurt her, but he could not. Still, she used that desire to slowly bring him back.«
You cannot hurt me. You are less than either of
your children, and they could not hurt me. Not yet,
anyway. I am safe from them, and safe from you.»

The child in her arms aged rapidly. He plumped quickly enough that she had to set him down. In the half-second it took her to do that, the child’s legs had become strong enough to support his weight. He rapidly progressed from infant through toddler to his son’s age. The child looked down at his body, then up at her. “What is the use? The world was hell when I grew up. It was worse when Dorothy was born and worse again when Mickey came. I have failed them. I failed their mother. They are better off without me.”

“No, they are not.”

“Others will care for them, do better for them.”

“But your children don’t love others. They love you.”

Rajani aimed a solid stream of thoughts at the child. She poured into him her memories of the trip, including the things his children said about him. She forced their father to see himself through the eyes of his children and to know how much they loved and depended upon him. His bond with them was more than as someone who obtained food for them and maintained their shelter. He was the core of their reality, and Rajani drilled that point home over and over again.

As the memories filled him, the child grew into a man.

He fought against the transformation, staring at adult limbs as if they were unwanted growths. He scraped at the whiskers on his face and raked his fingers across his hairy chest. He slumped down to deny his height and hugged his arms around himself to make himself seems smaller.

”No, I cannot take responsibility for them. I am not strong enough. It is too difficult.”

Rajani reached up and grabbed his upper arms. “You
have
the strength. No, you will not change the world, but your children can. They
are
strong, and they have done incredible things to return to you. You owe them. You know there is only one way to escape what haunts you,
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and that is to ensure that you and your wife are immortal by providing your children the foundation for their success.”

“Can I?”

“By simply surviving, you will be that foundation.”

Rajani backed away from him. “With a little bit of effort on your part, they will excel beyond your wildest dreams.”

She withdrew herself from his mind and straightened up over his slumped form. He looked up at her, then his eyes closed. For a half-second she thought he might have slipped away again, but then a loud buzzing snore sounded from him, and Rajani smiled.

“He always did sound like a chain saw.” Dorothy leaned against the apartment wall. “You’re not from Phoenix, are you?”

Rajani shook her head. “No, but I am heading there.”

Dorothy looked right through her. “Are you even human?”

Rajani stiffened. “Human enough to know what it is to lose your parents.” She looked down at Dorothy’s father.

”He’ll be okay now, I think. He knows what he means to you and how important he is to you. He lost that somewhere, when your mother died and the pressure got too great. He’s found it again.”

“Are you going to stay? We have room.”

Rajani smiled confidently in the face of Dorothy’s fear and hopefulness. “Don’t worry, Dorothy. You are more than strong enough to see to your brother and father. You don’t need me here, neither does your father.” She hugged her arms around herself. “I would very much like to stay, but what I have to do necessi-tates my making it to Phoenix. In fact, I should probably head out tonight.”

Dorothy crossed the room and hugged her tightly.

”Thank you, Rajani.”

Rajani returned the hug, then broke it and blinked away tears. “Give Mickey my love.”

Dorothy nodded and sniffled. “I hope you find what

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you’re looking for.”

Rajani winked at her and retreated from the apartment.

She let the sound of the crane’s loud engine pound into her and blank her mind as quickly as possible. She length-ened her stride to get away from there fast, but something tugged at her. She turned and took one look back.

“Ouah-ah, ajni,” Mickey yelled to her from the window.

His broken smile lit his face and conjured a smile on her face.

She waved at him.« Good-bye, Mickey. Be safe.»

«You, too, Rajani. Good-bye!»

She stared at him, then they shared a silent laugh and Rajani wandered happily off into the night.

Coyote drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. He let it out slowly and forced himself to ignore the dull ache in his ribs from where a
getsul
had kicked him during the morning exercises.
It hurts, but my counterstrike would
have killed him had I not pulled it. He did not expect his
attack to get through and was preparing a counter to my
parry. He thought too far ahead and paid.

Coyote heard the whisper of Mong’s bare feet on the stone floor of his room, but he did not open his eyes.

Instead, he concentrated and drank in all the clues to the man’s presence. He knew enough about Mong to know that the noise had been intentional, but Coyote wondered if the monk could control the ticklish chill of the air currents swirling around him, or the faint scent of dried sweat. He didn’t think so, but he discovered he’d not have been surprised if the monk had that ability.

“You fought well this morning, Kyi-can. You combine the grace of aikido with a very lethal form of karate.”

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