Chapter Twenty
Evil often triumphs, but never conquers. —Joseph Roux
"Yuk!"
Steve sneered at the flat, desert-like landscape. "I can't believe this
is part of the same world. What're those ugly metal sculptures over
there? Fences?"
"Those are the filters that collect the dust. It is
necessary to the collection process that the camps be as
obstruction-free as possible. Trees, plants, and decorative buildings
are a hindrance here. I understand your curiosity, Steve, but perhaps
you could curb it slightly. It is most distracting and I do not seem to
have the power to close you out as easily as I once did."
"Oh, I'm sorry." She took a deep breath and grasped Falcon's hand. "Okay. Back to work. Is he here?"
"You tell me. Remember the sensation of darkness when King was approaching? Underwood's aura is much stronger, blacker."
Steve
hesitated, surprised to discover she had unconsciously been blocking it
out. She could stop something from entering her head and let it in when
and if she chose. How simple it really was, like opening and closing a
window! Only days ago she thought of mental telepathy as little more
than an interesting topic of conversation. Now, she was not only
communicating with her mind, she was reading other people's emotions as
if they were her own, and had even picked up an aura of someone she
couldn't see.
There was no doubt Falcon was responsible for these
changes, but her easy acceptance of these skills and innate knowledge
of how to utilize them was bewildering. Rather than being shocked as
she supposed she should be, it all seemed perfectly natural. She had
the oddest feeling that the ability to use her mind in these ways had
always been there, but had never been exercised.
Testing this newest awareness, she pictured herself opening that mental window.
Anger,
hatred, blackest evil assailed her from every angle, poking, prodding,
tearing at her flesh. She cried out in fear and revulsion. The evil
took a human form but not entirely. Its golden cat's eyes were sly and
wicked. It's wild mane of hair became a nest of hissing snakes that
struck and coiled around her, imprisoning her securely in the demon's
trap. Her fists beating against her captor, she frantically struggled
to break its hold. Tongues of white-hot fire licked at her feet,
enveloped her ankles, her legs. In a moment she would be consumed and
become a part of the evil.
"Steve! Stop it. Stop the fear!" Falcon
shook her, gripping her so hard he knew she would be bruised, but she
fought to escape him as one demented, as if he were death itself. He
invaded her mind, careful to keep his own protected from whatever
images tortured her.
Break away, Steve. Not with your body. It is your mind that is being held. Close the window. You can do it.
But she couldn't—not alone. Falcon joined his strength to hers, and together they banished the overwhelming darkness.
Steve's
body wilted in Falcon's arms. Trembling from head to toe, it was all
she could do not to cry. She had never been so terrified in her life.
She sniffed and pulled herself together. "I guess I haven't got the
hang of it yet." Her attempt at a smile didn't quite make it.
Falcon
took a shaky breath and hugged her gently. Rotating his thumbs over her
upper arms, he withdrew the discomfort he had caused. "Please forgive
my error in judgment. I should not have suggested you reach out for
something that powerful when this is so new to you. It seems so natural
for you to share my abilities, I did not consider how it would affect
you."
Steve tilted her head back. "That's strange. Just before it
happened I was thinking how natural it felt to do these things. I guess
I got cocky. What I felt, or saw, or whatever, was that Underwood's
aura?"
"It is his essence, what motivates him. I perceived it in a
different form than you. Each person's fear comes in an individual
package. Because I knew what to expect, I could view it without giving
it access to my mind. I had assumed you would only sense it through me
and feel only what I feel. What happened is . . .improbable."
Steve
accepted his warmth for a few more heartbeats before she gave into the
anxiety nagging at her. Hers? His? It didn't matter. She eased away
from Falcon and straightened her shoulders.
"Okay. What now?"
"He is in that building. We will request the assistance of the guards to ensure he does not slip away again."
Steve
felt her system's adrenaline replenishing itself. She forced herself to
stand by patiently during Falcon's explanations to the two
black-uniformed men. One guard recognized Falcon, which sped the matter
up considerably. Both men removed a small black box from their belts as
they strode away. Steve wondered what sort of weapon it was, and
whether she would see it used in the next few minutes.
When the guards disappeared around the rear of the building, Falcon nodded to Steve. "It is time to bring the hunt to an end."
"Just tell me what you want me to do."
"I believe you have an appropriate, but illogical, expression to fit the occasion: "Play it by ear."
Steve winked at him. "Gotcha."
In
spite of the way they casually approached the entrance of the
dormitory, Steve's heart thudded in her chest. Falcon stepped in front
of her and cautiously opened the door.
Several faces turned their way as they entered. Only one distorted in fury.
Gordon
Underwood jackknifed up from the chair in which he had been lounging
next to Delphina. "You! How..." His gaze darted wildly from Falcon to
Steve. "You're dead! This isn't possible!" He took a step sideward and
groped for Delphina's hand, urging her to stand beside him without
taking his eyes off Falcon.
Steve had witnessed other men in similar
situations. At this point they were sweating bullets, but this was not
an average man. Although momentarily flustered, he quickly regained his
cool, sophisticated facade. He puffed out his chest and lifted his
chin, daring any inferior being to touch him.
The other inhabitants
of the room scrambled away from the four participants, remaining close
enough to watch the drama without risk of becoming a player. It
reminded Steve of a saloon scene in a bad western, but instead of
brandishing six-shooters, Falcon had his weapon neatly concealed in the
palm of his hand. He didn't need to wave a gun to look threatening. His
expression, his stance, his entire being bespoke of leashed danger and
confident power.
Steve remained stationed in the entranceway, as Falcon inched closer to Underwood.
"I'm
quite curious,'' Underwood ventured conversationally. "Perhaps you
would be considerate enough to explain how the two of you managed to
follow me."
"No." Falcon advanced another foot.
The big man
narrowed his brows. "I see. But at least tell me what you did with King
and Mr. Nesterman. I had grown somewhat fond of them both."
"Nesterman is free. King is dead."
"Dead?" He looked surprised, then turned to Steve. "I've studied these aliens. They are opposed to violence. Did you kill King?"
Falcon answered for her. "He ended his own life."
"Tch-tch.
How very Oriental of him. I suppose he thought it was what he deserved
for failing his master. So now, what is it you think I deserve?"
"You
will be punished for your crimes against the people of Innerworld. More
than a thousand innocents died because of your interference."
Underwood
chuckled lightly. "Yes, I read about that. A shame, but it was
accidental. I have also read about your ideas of punishment.
Reprogramming is so much more civilized than execution. However, I'm
afraid I can't oblige your sense of righteousness. I have some pressing
business matters to attend to back home."
With a vicious jerk,
Underwood positioned Delphina in front of him, twisting her arm up her
back and circling her throat with his other hand. He started backing up
to the rear door of the building, when Falcon moved again. "Don't take
another step. You may not believe in violence, but I do, and I will not
hesitate to hurt this pretty lady if I have to. I could break her neck
with one snap, but I won't— yet. I'll just tighten my fingers, little
by little, slowly shutting off her breath. An agonizing way to go I
assure you, and her pain would be your doing. Ah, but there's the rub,
isn't it? You're not permitted to cause another person pain. Too bad.
Well, we must be going now. Say good-bye, Delphina."
"Good-bye," she whispered obediently.
Steve
wanted to do something, stop him herself if she had to. But Falcon was
ordering her to wait, to be still. She did not dare open herself to
Underwood's emotions, but through Falcon she knew the man was not as
calm as he appeared. He was grasping for straws. There was nowhere in
either world he could go where they would not follow.
Falcon's wrist
moved imperceptibly. His finger twitched. A bolt of lightning flashed
out of the black box, streaked across the room, and blasted Delphina
between the eyes.
"No!" Underwood roared as she went limp in his
arms. He'd been deceived! He dropped her to the floor, flew to the back
door, and yanked it open, but his path was blocked by two guards
pointing those strange weapons at him. Raising his hands over his head
in surrender, he cautiously made his way back into the room. Logic told
him it was better to be captured and alive than dead.
Dead.
Delphina, his Delphina, was dead. He stared at her lifeless body, her
beautiful auburn hair fanning over her face and down her back. The
woman who had made him feel like a man again, the woman he loved with
all his heart, was taken from him. He would never again ... Tears of
grief clogged his throat and he swallowed hard. Lowering his hands and
glaring stonily at Falcon, he demanded, "Why? She had nothing to do
with any crime you believe I committed. Why did you have to kill her?"
"I did not kill her."
Falcon
sent a mental command to one guard, who brought his weapon up and
touched Underwood's neck, paralyzing him instantly. Underwood's eyes
were wide, his mouth open in shock. He could see and hear but not move
or respond. Falcon's fingers shifted on his weapon, and a small knife
extended from one end.
Steve came up beside him, not understanding
everything she was hearing and seeing, and yet feeling that Falcon had
it all under control.
Falcon nudged his foot under Delphina and
flipped her onto her back. A black hole smoldered in the middle of her
forehead. Bending over her still form, he brought the knife point down
to the base of her throat. In one swift motion he slashed a line to her
stomach. Steve gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, afraid she
would be sick. Then her brain registered what her eyes perceived.
There's no blood!
His fingers pushed aside Delphina's dress, then
dipped into the slit his knife had made. He tugged at her flesh,
peeling it back as if it were another layer of clothing. Beneath the
skin, where Steve expected to see ribs and bloody organs, lay a circuit
board and a mass of silver disks. Delphina was an android!
Rising
again, Falcon delivered part of Underwood's punishment. "You need not
concern yourself with Delphina. As a reactive computer specializing in
fantasies, she is extremely valuable. Her body will be repaired and her
memory of you will be erased. She will be programmed to pleasure her
next owner as well as she served you."
Underwood was still rendered
immobile, but as Steve regarded him, a tear oozed out of the corner of
one eye and trickled down his cheek. The man had feelings after all.
He is a murderer, Falcon reminded her.
Yes, I know, and a kidnapper, also. Will he—
Falcon
interrupted her thought by speaking aloud to the guards. "We would
appreciate your assistance in bringing these two to the migrator for
transport back to Administration. His fate must be determined
immediately."
As soon as their prisoner was taken into custody and
the rings retrieved, and Delphina was shipped to Creative Services,
Falcon and Steve met with Romulus and Aster. Once they brought the
governors completely up to date, they exchanged ideas of how to deal
with Gordon Underwood.
Total reprogramming was the standard sentence
of Innerworld's justice system, but in Outerworld, only Steve would
know what had happened to the billionaire. There Was no way Mr. and
Mrs. Nesterman would be satisfied with the notion that Underwood had
simply vanished into thin air. Steve tried not to think about how
foolish she would look if that was the only explanation she could offer.
Aster
touched Rom's hand. "Remember how you handled that wretched man,
Victor? Surely you can think of something equally brilliant to satisfy
everyone involved."
After considerable discussion, that is precisely what they came up with.
"Let
me see if I understand this." Steve paused to organize her thoughts.
"When you touched King's mind in Alaska, he was able to bring his
memory back because technically everything was still there but buried.
With reprogramming, Underwood's memory would be permanently altered to
whatever you chose for him to remember."
Falcon nodded. "As I
mentioned at the time, King had a very disciplined mind. There is no
question that a mind-touch would not be an adequate method of
controlling Underwood's future activities."
"We have the rings
back," Romulus said, "and as far as Innerworld is concerned, after
reprogramming, Underwood will no longer present a threat. In the
morning we will give him to you. He will be subdued sufficiently for
you to return to Outerworld and deliver him to your authorities."
Steve
was still not certain she understood everything. "But to anyone who
knows him will he look and act as he always did before? It would be a
waste if no one believed he was really Gordon Underwood."
Romulus
leaned forward as he summarized the plan. "In a total reprogramming,
the human is drastically changed and often ends up being little better
than an android. That's why we're going for a very limited adjustment
here. Underwood will have all his previous memories and knowledge,
including the fact that he kidnapped Nesterman to study a unique ring.
He will not remember, however, how he came to be in possession of this
ring. Too many other people are aware of the fact that you and Falcon
were searching for him, so it would serve little purpose to eliminate
his memory of the two of you.