Artemis Invaded (40 page)

Ring said, “Green will work for the twin, but if you doubt, have the boy try it on first.”

“He's making sense again,” Siegfried said. “Why does that worry me?”

Griffin cut in. “We noticed this before you arrived. Ring appears to benefit from the spavek. It seems to help him focus. Maybe so much of his attention is diverted to operating it that he doesn't have as many visions.”

The Old One added, “That would fit the theories I evolved when I was attempting to create those who could use the seegnur's equipment. Ring, when you say ‘the boy' do you mean Seamus?”

Ring's response was a ponderous nod. The Old One looked as excited as Julyan had ever seen him. Julyan could understand why. Up until this point, Seamus had been completely useless except as a peculiar communications device. Even in that capacity, his lack of intelligence had made him hardly better than a note carrier. Now Seamus, like Ring, might prove that the Old One's generations-long project had not been a complete waste of effort.

“Well,” Falkner said, setting down the helmet, “I don't see how it could hurt and, as Alexander said, it might help. Do you have any problem with letting the boy test the suit, Castor?”

“None at all,” Castor replied.

Seamus was herded forward, stripped, and directed to step into the squire where Falkner and Alexander had arranged the green spavek. Although his deep blue eyes were wide with fear, Seamus remained as docile as a rag doll. Julyan didn't doubt that the Old One had used his mental link with the boy to make clear precisely what would happen to him if he gave any trouble.

The spavek had looked oversized when the pieces were arrayed, but once the last piece had been fastened around Seamus's unresisting form, the miracle of the energy field that connected the different parts came into play. The energy—a shimmering green somewhat lighter than the solid pieces—knit the whole together. Julyan would have sworn that the solid pieces contracted a little, shaping themselves to their wearer.

And who is to say that's impossible?

Once released from the squire, Seamus staggered. Since he was always awkward, this didn't seem in the least unusual. Certainly, he showed none of the anguish Griffin had displayed. Alexander ordered Seamus to kneel, raise his arms over his head, and perform other simple, mechanical tasks. Julyan glanced at the Old One in time to catch a quizzical, frustrated expression flickering across his features.

I bet he's lost his link.

When Seamus showed no signs that the spavek was causing him even mild discomfort, Siegfried said, “Well, Alexander, if you're done playing with your puppet, I'd like to see what Castor makes of the suit.”

Alexander looked annoyed, but didn't protest. The exchange was made, the parts of the spavek returned to the squire, and the much taller Castor inserted himself into place. The device that fed him concentrated nutrients had to be removed, but Ring reassured them, “For a time, the green will manage food and waste. How else could it be useful?”

By now, no one was questioning anything Ring said, something Julyan thought unwise, but who was he to care if the Danes took risks? He glanced over to where Seamus stood clad in his underclothing. The boy seemed well enough. He was even watching what Castor was doing with something like interest.

When Castor stepped out of the squire, he showed none of the awkwardness Seamus had demonstrated. He performed a few deep knee bends, spun with something like a dancer's grace, and tested the gauntlets. Siegfried was pressing Castor to find out if this spavek—like the blue one—possessed anything in the way of functional weapons, when Castor froze in place.

His hands rose to his temples, resting beneath the stylized horns. “Pollux? What's wrong? Pollux? What are you? Where are you? Are you going? Going! Pollux!”

As Castor began to flail about, tearing at his helmet, jerking side to side as if searching for someone, Julyan backed up and got ready to run. Then he realized he didn't know where to run. Did anyone value him enough to protect him? Nausea filled his limbs, stilled his flight.

How did I get to this point? When did Julyan Hunter cease to be?

*   *   *

Griffin had been watching the experiments with the green spavek with equally balanced interest and apprehension. He hadn't forgotten Alexander's thinly veiled threat that more than just Castor were going to be expected to interface with a spavek. He didn't need to know Terrell as well as he did to know that the other man was terrified. Bruin's gaze had flickered several times to the orange and ivory pieces that Ring had indicated made up the spavek that would best serve him. He'd been interrupted before he could actually try the suit on. Now he might have to try it in front of enemies.

As for Griffin himself, his apprehension was balanced by the awareness that if one or more of his friends were armored up, then the technological edge his brothers held would vanish. He knew Alexander believed he had complete control over the Artemesians, so the experiment would be safe, but at the very least he didn't hold Ring. Remembering how the spavek had tried to invade his mind, Griffin wondered if Alexander's control over the others would be broken.

Don't let them see the possible danger,
Griffin warned himself.
They're aware they can use us as hostages against each other. Look calm. Look interested. Act like a Dane.

How easily Seamus accepted the green spavek was interesting, but the boy showed no sign that he was at all aware of the potential weapon he held. He surrendered the suit as readily as he had donned it. Griffin was impressed, even a little jealous, at how easily Castor adapted. Then Castor began to yell.

“Pollux? What's wrong? Pollux? What are you? Where are you? Are you going? Going! Pollux!”

Castor's tone was so anguished that Griffin half expected the helmet's demon mask to contort with pain. Castor spun wildly about, searching for his lost illusion. Ring—the only person who stood a chance of restraining him—stepped back a few paces. Siegfried and Falkner automatically reached for weapons. Alexander's fists were clenched in frustration. He possessed no easy commands to control a brother.

Castor's panic was reaching a dangerous level when aid came from an unexpected source.

“Castor, it's all right. I'm here.”

The speaker was the boy Seamus. His usually slack features were animated, the expression on them somehow adult and just a bit cynical. He looked, Griffin realized with shock, very much like Pollux. There was nothing physical in the resemblance—it was pure body language. Stance. Angle of the head. The slight narrowing of the eyes that had always meant Pollux was working his way through a complicated problem. There were dozens of little things, but Griffin was certain he was not imagining them.

Castor dropped to his knees in front of the boy and released the helmet's faceplate. The stylized demon features were replaced by a visage far more tormented.

“Pollux! Pollux!”

Castor grabbed Seamus by the shoulders and started shaking him. His brilliant green eyes held panic, yet Griffin recognized it for a panic born of hope. Confronted with Castor's violent reaction, Seamus's momentary lucidity vanished. His head snapped back and forth on his thin neck as Castor shook him.

A commotion broke out. Falkner yelled, “Castor! Stop it!” Siegfried pulled out his nerve burner, but didn't seem to know precisely who he wanted to shoot. Alexander was less uncertain. Griffin had only just realized that Alexander was taking careful aim at Seamus when Bruin exploded forward, putting himself between the weapon and the boy.

Or does Bruin see “boys”?
Griffin wondered.
Castor looks at least as vulnerable.

Griffin didn't wait. With Terrell at his side, he surged toward Alexander. Terrell threw himself into a low dive, wrapping himself around Alexander's ankles and knocking him off balance. When Alexander's hand flew up in an automatic attempt to regain his balance, Griffin kicked the nerve burner from his grip.

With that, the immediate crisis was averted. Castor had let go of Seamus, and now stood weeping, his head bent limply forward. Bruin was inspecting Seamus's bare upper arm where bruises were forming. Alexander picked himself off the floor, cursing all and sundry—but most especially Ring.

“He did this! He set this up! He's trying to drive Castor crazy!”

“And who,” Griffin asked coldly, “did you plan to shoot? Seamus or Castor?” He held up the nerve burner, so Siegfried and Falkner could see that it was set for high energy, not the lower setting that would frazzle the subject's nervous system but leave him alive. “It seems to me that the one who's acting crazy is you, Alexander.”

Siegfried's indecision had vanished and he still held a weapon. Griffin had no illusions that they were evenly matched. Siegfried could use a nerve burner with surgical precision. Griffin settled for keeping hold of Alexander's weapon, hoping it would give him an edge.

“Crazy or not,” Siegfried said, “we need to figure out what's happened. Everyone over there, against the wall. We're going to get this resolved.”

He aimed his nerve burner at Bruin, then glowered at Ring. “That includes you, Ring. Get out of that armor and join the rest or I'll start persuading you by burning holes in your friends. You wouldn't like that, would you? In case you don't think I'm serious…”

Siegfried played the energy beam along the side of Bruin's face. The big man dropped to the floor, writhing and screaming.

*   *   *

Although Adara felt comforted by Artemis's promise, Sand Shadow's uncertainty remained so powerful that Adara had to struggle to keep the puma's panic from becoming her own. She could not reject Sand Shadow's emotions—they were too close to her own. Instead, she rechanneled them, trying to show Sand Shadow Artemis's reassurance that their new closeness was a protection, not a threat. Sand Shadow was not convinced, but neither did she reject Adara's comfort.

They might have probed more deeply into this new understanding but, at that moment, Honeychild exploded into the glen. Usually, Honeychild was such a mild soul that it was easy to forget just how dangerous the bear could be. Now, with her body stretched lean and tight, she looked every ounce the lethal predator she was. She barreled up to Adara, head jerking frantically toward where Sand Shadow still clung. She reared and shook the tree trunk with the intensity of her need.

Adara understood. Honeychild had something complicated to communicate, but Sand Shadow's mind remained awash with the confused sensations from their recent ordeal. Adara didn't waste any time trying to explain what they'd been through—that would have been difficult enough even if they'd shared a language. Instead, she grabbed the bear's ears in her hands and forced the great head around to face her.

“Is it Bruin? Is something wrong with Bruin?”

Honeychild shook from long nose to short tail, and then nodded. Shaking loose of Adara's grip, she reared onto her haunches, pointing in the direction of Leto's complex. Dropping down, the bear used her claws to scrape the sign for danger, following it with the one that indicated an event current and immediate. Again she pointed toward Leto's complex. Then, her patience for this laborious form of communication spent, the bear dropped onto all fours.

Adara didn't wait for the bear to lope off. She called to Sand Shadow. “I hope you're coming. We could really use you. Come on, Kipper!”

They ran full tilt toward Leto's complex, Honeychild following now that she was assured of assistance.

“Aren't we going in that way?” Kipper asked, pointing toward the entrance they'd been using.

Not pausing in her long-legged stride, Adara shook her head. “That goes directly into the lab. Even before Griffin's brothers arrived, that was rarely unoccupied. We're going in through the cavern.”

“Isn't the cavern flooded?” Kipper asked. Although he was smaller, he had a boy's overwhelming energy and easily kept pace with her. “And locked?”

“I have the keys,” Adara said. “Even if I did not, I suspect Leto would open the way for us.”

“What about Honeychild?”

“If she doesn't want to swim, she can make her way around on the ledge like Sand Shadow did. Bears are much more nimble than humans think,” Adara replied. “You'll know that after you've lived with Bruin longer.”

“Will I?”

The words were spoken in a very small voice. Reaching out, Adara gently buffeted the boy's head.

“Of course you will. Bruin and Honeychild will make sure you do. We're going to get Bruin and the rest out of there, so you'll have plenty of lessons.”

Kipper brightened, leaping in midstride like a young deer. “We will! Of course we will!”

“I'll tow you in like I did Terrell and Griffin. You have some ability to see in the dark, don't you?”

“Not as much as you and Bruin.”

“But enough,” Adara said, “that we won't need to show a light. That's good.”

She'd spoken of Sand Shadow joining them with a confidence she didn't feel. The puma was still deeply unsettled by what had happened when they had breathed in Artemis's spores. Nonetheless, Adara was aware that the puma was following at a distance, sorting through the confused impulses surging through her system.

Adara grinned to herself.
There's something to be said for being human. I spend a lot of time sorting through confusion. Sand Shadow's usually the confident one. She's going to need time.

Because a canoeist on the teardrop lake could have been noticed by someone on the surrounding elevations, the canoe had not been much in use. A few times, Adara had taken it out after dark. Otherwise, she had stored it in the cavern. The makeshift raft she'd used to tow Griffin and Terrell was there as well. Smaller, lighter Kipper would stay much dryer than the men had. He'd also be easier to pull—and less nervous, since he'd be able to see where they were going.