The Mutant Prime (9 page)

Cursing, he landed and tried to retrace his steps. Surely the path was over here. No. Well, here then. If only he had mindspeech, he could call out to the clan. Or night sight, so that he could see beyond the trees. Just as he was beginning to consider shouting for help, he felt a mental prickle.

Stop bashing around. These are all protected native plants
.

“Skerry?”

No. If you’re looking for that other esper, he’s about two miles away, heading south fast. Hold on, I’ll call him for you. There. He’s coming back.

“Who are you?”

The linkage faded. In its place, a buzzing came, almost electronic, like a swarm of angry metal bees.

All right, I’m back.

“Jesus, you are a pain in the ass,” Michael said. He sank down on a rock. “First I get lost in the woods looking for you, then the old man of the forest tells me to keep off the grass.”

Jason? He’s all right
.

Michael looked over his right shoulder. His left. All he saw was darkness. “Dammit, Skerry, materialize. I’m tired of talking to phantoms.”

Don’t be so touchy
.

The buzzing took on a rhythmic quality, almost musical, and then it
was
musical: the “Flight of the Bumblebee.” Suddenly, a thousand golden insects beat their wings against the night sky, flying in formation, coalescing, until in place of the bees was a bearded, grinning mutant. Skerry.

“Could you turn off the soundtrack, please?”

The woods were silent.

“Thanks.”

Skerry sat down next to him. “Well, did you have Jason call me back just so you could criticize my musical taste?”

“Get serious. You
know
why I came after you. I think you should go check out that guy Ashman. He’s strange. Scary. Don’t you care?”

“Of course I do.” Skerry’s tone was sharp. “But I don’t like being ordered around. Skerry do this. Skerry do that. Quick, Skerry, save the supposedly free world from itself.” He made a sour face. “I’m getting kind of old for this stuff. Isn’t there any other member of this clan who can go check out this so-called supermutant?” He paused and gave his cousin the once-over. “You look like you’re in pretty good shape for a desk jockey. Why don’t you go?”

Michael grinned, “Don’t be ridiculous. Besides, I’ve got enough problems already.”

“Such as?”

“The Moonstation disaster.”

“What have you got to do with that?” Skerry’s tone was incredulous.

“My old man helped build parts for the dome that blew.”

“So?”

“So I’ve been invited by the government to discuss this at Armstrong Airbase on Monday.” Michael forced himself to sound genial, unconcerned.

“Jesus, a congressional investigation?” Even Skerry was impressed. “Think they’ll nail you?”

“If they can. But I’m not going to give them any help.”

Skerry patted him on the back. “That’s the spirit. Okay, so that’s one catastrophe. What else? No, wait. Let me guess. The gorgeous wife.”

Michael nodded curtly.

“Where is she, by the way? And the bambina?”

“Back home in Piedmont. The bambina is almost fifteen. And just like Jena.”

“A looker?”

“Of course.” Michael’s voice was acid. “And just as self-absorbed.”

Skerry chuckled. “I’m glad you said it instead of me. But who told you to marry her?”

“The Mutant Council, remember? There was this slight case of pregnancy. …”

“You’ve gotten sarcastic in your old age, kiddo.” Skerry stood up, stretched. “Not that I blame you.”

Michael followed his lead. “Oh, go ahead and blame me. I think I was a fool not to follow your advice and take off years ago.”

“The road’s not for everybody, Mike.”

“No, especially not for mutants who put community before their own best interests.” He gave a self-mocking smile. “And I’ve given the precious community my daughter, for all the good it will do them. I’ve no doubt she’ll have herself sterilized before she’s nineteen. She’s already had a contravention block.”

“Just as well, unless you’re eager to be a grandpa.”

“No thanks.” Michael stared up at the stars twinkling above them. They were cool, silvery. Like Ashman’s eyes. He turned to his cousin. “Are you afraid of this supermutant?”

“No. Just tired.” His voice had a hollow ring to it. “Come on, let’s get out of the woods.” Skerry began walking uphill at a healthy pace.

Michael hurried after him, eager not to get lost again.

“Do you think he’s for real?”

“No. If I did, then I might be scared. He’s probably just some jumped-up multitalent.”

“Not like any other multi I’ve ever met,” Michael said.

Skerry stopped walking. “What do you mean?”

“Well, his control. I can’t levitate and use my telekinesis at the same time. I don’t know anybody else who can, either. But Ashman didn’t seem to flinch, even when he was mind-speaking while levitating an entire set full of furniture.”

“Hmm. Good point.” Skerry stroked his beard. “Can you ever switch back and forth long enough to appear to be doing both?”

Michael snorted. “Maybe if I trained from birth, like that mutant girl in the Moscow circus. Jesus, that’s hard work, Skerry. I don’t know who could do it.” He paused. “But if your hunch is right, I’ll bet he can’t use multiple skills for long. It’s too hard. Like holding up a heavy weight in each hand. Sooner or later, one of your arms starts to shake.”

“I see what you mean.”

The meeting hall loomed up in the darkness, its halogen lamps casting yellow circles on the path before them. The doorway glowed with recessed lighting, like a beacon.

“Well?”

Skerry hesitated. “I don’t know. I need to think about it. Besides, I’ve got some things to take care of right now.”

“Things?”

Skerry shrugged. “Some business, which will keep me out of town just long enough, I hope, to make me feel like kissing and making up with a certain lady I know.”

“Had a romantic spat with some chip runner?”

Skerry’s eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Michael. I’ve got a short fuse these days.” He shook his head. “Dammit, I miss her.”

“Who?” Michael was wildly curious—Skerry so rarely talked about his women. “Is she involved in business with you?”

“None of your business and no.”

“Sorry.” Well, maybe he’d never know, Michael thought. There had always been mysteries about Skerry. Probably always would be. He could live with that.

“So leave me alone. It’s my concern and I’ll decide what I will or won’t do.”

“Suit yourself. But you tell Rebekah.”

“She’ll figure it out on her own. She’s all right—a little pushy. But so was Halden. Book Keepers always are.” Skerry nodded and turned to Michael. “Listen, I’ll be checking in with you during the investigation. If you need my help—or somewhere to run—don’t hesitate.”

“Let’s hope it won’t come to that.” Michael squeezed his shoulder. “Besides, you’re pretty hard to find sometimes.”

Narlydda had watched the news broadcast with cool fascination. Again, she scanned the tape. Ashman’s face was peculiar; almost genderless, with a sharp nose, thin lips, high cheekbones, and of course, those eerie, silver eyes.

“Hold,” she told the computer. The image onscreen froze.

She leaned over and grabbed a sketchpad. Quickly, with great economy of line, she captured the supermutant’s triangular face, his short, silvery hair, elongated bone structure.

If he’s really the supermutant, then he probably knows I’m doing this.

Impulsively, Narlydda added horns and a halo to the sketch.

There. Let him really get an eyeful. The sketch pulled loose easily from the pad. Should she fax it to her agent? Send it to the L.A.
Times
editorial section? For a moment, she was tempted. Then she crumpled the sketch and threw it in the corner. He was probably a sham. But an interesting one. What would he be like in person? Shy? Aggressive?

Why not find out? Emory Foundation was hosting Ashman and handling his publicity. Well, maybe it was time to take Tavia Emory up on her persistent invitations. Besides, Skerry had been out of touch for over a month. Narlydda turned toward the computer. “Anne, get me Tavia Emory.”

Kelly sat in the rec lounge, watching the wallscreen in amazement. This Ashman, could he really be what he claimed? An evolved mutant?

“Jesus, do you believe this?” Ethan Hawkins, first officer of the shuttle
Brinford
, sat down next to her. His dark face was somber. “I don’t know whether to laugh at him or go hide under the bed.”

“Me neither.”

“Have you seen Landon around?”

“No. But I’d love to hear his opinion.” Kelly shivered. “This guy gives me the creeps.”

Hawkins nodded. “Me too. He’s got to be a fake. Got to be.”

“But what if he’s not?”

“If he’s not, he’d better hide his ass. Every scientist is going to want a piece of it. And every army as well.” Hawkins took a sip of coffee and nodded slowly. “If I were Mr. Ashman, I wouldn’t be so free about advertising my wares.”

Jena lolled in bed, naked, wrapped in orange sheets, watching a tape of the supermutant interview. Across the room, Wade was on his private screen with Mutant Union officials. She barely noticed; her attention was riveted to the silver-eyed Ashman. Her cheeks were bright, her eyes flashed. I’ve got to meet him.

Wade sat down beside her and stroked her cheek.

“Show you a guy with silver eyes and you get all excited,” he said. “Not that I mind.”

She shook off his roving hands. “He’s fascinating. Wade, I can hardly believe it. After all these years of talk, talk, talk, we’ve finally gotten a supermutant!”

“We?” Wade lifted an eyebrow.

“Well, he’s got to be related to some clan, doesn’t he? Oh Wade, who is he? Where did he come from?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out.”

Jena grabbed his shirt in excitement.

“What do you know? Tell me. Tell me.”

“You were at the council meeting.” Wade shrugged. His tawny hair slanted down across his forehead into his eyes. He brushed it away impatiently. “We’re all stumped. But after tomorrow, maybe we’ll know a little more.”

“What, do you mean, after tomorrow?”

“A group of top Mutant Union officials is going to meet with Ashman and interview him. We’ll try to learn what we can.”

“Oh, Wade, take me along!” Jena jumped up, throwing off the sheet.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous at all. I’m a dues-paying Union member. Why shouldn’t I go?”

“It’s for union officials only.”

Jena pouted. “Why can’t you bring me along as a companion?” She put her hand on his thigh, slowly moving it upward. “You’ll get lonely in Arizona. I couldn’t bear for you to be lonely.”

He grinned at her. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”

“Completely.” She slipped her hand under his shirt. He leaned back against the silken apricot pillows.

“What about your poor husband at that investigation?”

“Don’t let’s talk about him now.” Jena nuzzled against him, and he cradled her in an easy embrace.

“Why don’t you leave him?”

Jena started laughing. “Oh, Wade. Don’t be ridiculous. We’ve been through this before. I couldn’t. The council frowns on it. And besides, there’s Herra to think of.”

His expression turned icy, and he stood up, moving beyond her reach. “You still love him.” His voice was sad, almost reproachful.

“Well, yes, I guess I do.” She surprised herself with the admission. Quickly, she reached for his hand. Squeezed. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. We have such a wonderful time together.”

Wade shrugged out of her grip. “Look, I’ve got to go.”

“What about the supermutant?”

“It’s out of the question.”

“But Wade …” Flabbergasted, Jena watched the door slide closed behind him. It’s not fair, she thought. The most exciting thing to happen in mutant history, and I’m stuck at home.

She turned back to the wallscreen. “Replay.”

CHAPTER
SEVEN

.

A hot wind blew out of the desert, roaring north toward the coastal megalopolis that stretched from San Jose to San Francisco, hundreds of miles away. It set the eucalyptus leaves dancing on their long, viny stems. The manzanita, the dry grasses, all whispered and nodded, accustomed to the vagaries of weather, even in winter. Even in California.

“Strange wind,” Melanie said. “Isn’t it supposed to be cool and rainy out here in January?”

The guard shrugged. “I’m from Pennsylvania, myself. But I’ve been here long enough to know that anything can happen in the desert. And probably will.” He inspected her press credentials and waved her on.