Dark Genesis: The Birth of the Psi Corps (7 page)

“This is Clara Suarez. She used to be a stock trader until she voluntarily quit when she learned she had metasensory powers. She now uses her abilities for the International Trade Commission to find less honest telepaths still trading.”

He moved to a boy of perhaps thirteen with flaming red hair.

“Stephen Campbell. Stephen didn’t know he was a telepath either, just that he had a lot of luck hitting what the pitcher threw. Steve was beaten within an inch of his life and left to die on the street in Edinburgh. And this-come here, sweetheart.” He held out his arms, and the last of the five ran into his arms, to the awwwing of the crowd.

“This is Constance. Constance is five, and last year she watched her whole family slaughtered execution style. She herself was shot, hacked with a machete, and left for dead. We found her under the corpse of her mother.”

Constance looked around the room. She was a living doll with huge, dark-bright eyes and brown hair done up in a little bob. She whispered something in Lee’s ear, and he laughed.

“She wants to know if she can sit by you, Alex.”

“I-yes, of course. I never turn a lady down.”

Anna gave the little girl a hug as she came by. Then Constance hopped up into the seat and looked at Alex DiPeso with those huge eyes. There were some gasps from the audience, for on her left profile, a fading white scar started in her hairline, passed through her ear, and vanished at the neckline of her dress.

“Hello, Constance,” DiPeso said. “What do you think of Los Angeles?”

She just looked at him and smiled, a bit sadly.

“You’re a nice man,” she said. “I can tell you’re a nice man. How come you say such mean things?”

DiPeso worked his jaw, and a profound silence stretched in the studio. Finally, finally, he reached over and took her hand, and his voice seemed caught in his throat as he said, “I don’t know, honey. I can’t explain it, can IT’ And upward of six billion viewers saw a teardrop glitter at the corner of his eye before the cut to commercial.

“Okay, we’re back, and we’re still talking to Senator Lee Crawford of the Committee on Metasensory Regulation. Frankly, I planned to have moved him off by now and brought someone entertaining on, but during the break he told me he had something important to tell us. So I think I’ll just shut up for a moment and see what it is.”

Lee nodded.

“Thank you, Alex. I first want to thank you and your audience for giving me the chance to show you these special young people. Look, the face of the unknown is the face of a monster , and for most people telepathy is unknown. It’s frightening. In our hearts, I think we all know that that doesn’t excuse some of the things that have happened-certainly not the way people like Constance and Stephen have been treated. So I wanted to show you the face of the unknown, so you can see that there is no monster , no alien, just us.

“Now, my committee has gotten a lot of criticism from both ends of the spectrum. I’ve been criticized for taking away the rights of telepaths-an untrue accusation-and for not being `hard enough’ on them, which I’m happy to say is true. They don’t deserve punishment simply for being born different. But they are different, aren’t they-if not in most ways, then in this one special way.

He clasped his hands.

“I’m being long-winded, so I’ll try to get to the point, because I know you all want to hear more from Anna and the other guests Alex has lined up tonight. The point is this: over the past year or so, I’ve had contact with a lot of telepaths, and one thing I know is that most of them have a strong desire to serve, to use their powers not for the good of themselves, not for the good of a single nation, but for the good of all humanity.

To that end, I would like to announce that the president has given me the go-ahead to form a new government organization, made up of telepaths like Anna, Guy, Stephen, Clara, and Constance . We’re all agreed that this is the best, most sensitive way to handle both the needs of telepaths and of the world at large. What people are really afraid of is not telepaths, I’m convinced, but the fear of not knowing who is a telepath. Most of us don’t mind being naked, so to speak, but we don’t want just anyone seeing us naked without our consent. The MRA-Metasensory Regulation Authority-will prevent that. We can identify seventy percent of all telepaths medically, but I think most people who know that they are telepaths will come to the MRA of their own free will, where they can be useful without fear of persecution.”

“But what about those who don’t want to join?”

“Well, naturally there will be some who want to continue with their normal lives. I’m happy to announce that Halotech has developed a new drug that shows great promise in inhibiting psionic abilities. It’s still in the testing stage, but it looks good and, once approved, will be offered as an option for telepaths who want to preserve a normal lifestyle. Beyond that well, there are criminals in every demographic. Just as in any group of people you choose to look at, there will be some minor fraction who simply have no social conscience, who will always take the easy way out. This is not a trait of telepaths, my friends-it is a trait common to humanity.

However, as you might imagine, telepaths present special problems in incarceration. Because of this, we’ve proposed a set of separate rehabilitation facilities specially designed for the needs of telepaths, which will be overseen by MRA-which will, of course, all be overseen in turn by the Earth Alliance Senate . In short, it’s high time that people step back and see what’s being done.

The Earth Alliance is the first true world government, and in just over thirty years look what we’ve accomplished. We have thriving colonies on the Moon, plans to move on to Mars, and we’ve detected what might be the first real murmurings of an alien civilization. All it took for those things was a little faith, a lot of ingenuity, and sweat.

It’s the same with the so-called telepath problem. In a hundred years, people will look back at this as the beginning of something wonderful.” He spread his hands. “Of course, this is all pending Senate approval, so if you like what you hear today, I urge you to message your senator.”

DiPeso nodded as if in agreement and then did his famous double take.

“Well, that’s about as serious as my contract allows this show to get. I’d like to thank you, Senator, as I’m now marked for death by all of the news shows. I don’t suppose you could spare a few of your, er, `regulators’-to keep me safe?”

Lee shook his head dolefully.

“I don’t know-the Senate would likely deem that a misallocation of personnel-but I promise to look into it if you’ll promise to invite me back sometime.”

“Senator-that’s an abacus. You can count on it.”

“You have nice hands,” he told Alice that evening in the Delacorte lounge. Onstage, the band was playing some oh-twenties revival piece, haunting and brisk all at once. Servers drifted by, ghostly in the pale veils and long dresses so popular along the Pacific Rim. She dimpled, but skeptically.

“You make weak spots in me where I had none,” she said. “Hmm. Tell me where they are so I can poke at ‘em.”

“You do a good enough job of that already. I sometimes wonder if you aren’t a telepath.”

“Not me, darlin’. You saw me get tested.”

“Uh-huh. You did a good job on the DiPeso show, too. The man’s never shown an honest feeling aside from disdain in twenty years, and you made him weep. That’s bound to go down in the history books.” She laid her hand on top of the one caressing hers.

“Why did you break the news about the MRA on his show, though? Why not one of the news shows?”

“How many news shows do you know that have a viewership of six billion? Live. Twice that saved. When word gets around, everybody in the solar system will have seen it by tomorrow.” He stopped. “God, I love sayin’ that. The solar system. Ours is the first generation in history to really be able to say that.”

“I don’t know if I would go so far as to say we’re in the same generation,” she said, doubtfully.

“Am I an old man robbin’ the cradle, Alice? Is that what you think of me?”

She looked surprised.

“I must be naive. I didn’t realize you were trying to steal anything.”

He shrugged.

“You are naive, then. I’d like to take you for everything you’ve got.”

“Really.”

“Really.” She avoided his eyes. “I can’t be her, you know.”

“You don’t even look like her. When have I ever made you feel that way?”

“Never-never on purpose. But there’s something-even when we’re close, there’s distance, Lee.”

“Anything we can’t build a bridge over?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, why don’t we get married and give it a go?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

She looked back up at him, as if he were one of those ancient inkblot things she kept as objets d’art in her office.

“Okay,” she said, softly. “If you love me, okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Lee.” She took a sip of her drink, still looking a bit troubled. Then she smiled. “But what kind of honeymoon can compare to our first date?”

“Darlin’, I’ll do my best.”

He left Los Angeles feeling good, but that sensation vanished on the red-eye back to Geneva, as the reactions started pouring in. All the usual stuff about his grandstanding-they all wished they could grandstand as well as he. That was trivial. But some of the responses to the MRA were troubling. Not unexpected, but troubling. It was morning when he arrived in Geneva, and he went straight to work—best way to deal with jet lag.

Tom Nguyen was waiting for him.

“I thought you’d be in today.”

“Yep. What’s up?”

“The party called again.”

“Screw ‘em. What else is up?”

“I have a feeling you know.”

Lee yawned, poured himself a cup of coffee, and rubbed the grit out of his eyes.

“Yeah, but my brain’s a little run-down. I imagine you’ve been on this with your usual efficiency. The vote?”

“Ten percent better than expected, our sources say.”

“See’? I told you I should go on DiPeso.”

Tom nodded reluctantly.

“It could have gone bad, though-well, it didn’t. The tear made the top of the news everywhere.”

Lee sipped his coffee.

“Constance, God bless ‘er. It’s her gift. Not that she really needs it-she’s so adorable and pathetic all at once anyway-but our tests put her at P12, powerful enough to nudge a tear out of anyone, if need be.”

Tom shook his head.

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her to make ‘im cry, and damned if she didn’t. Hell, I got misty-eyed, too-I guess I was within the field of affect or whatever.”

“This is really dangerous, Lee. If anyone suspects-“

“They won’t suspect because they don’t want to. The real bigots will say it, of course, and thereby set themselves apart. See, opinion wasn’t really polarized, not most places. People were ambivalent about telepaths, now they aren’t. They feel ashamed of themselves. They want to help. And best of all, they can help and keep the mind readers away from them all at the same time. They call their senators. The vote will go our way.”

“The nonmember nations want your head. They say they won’t give up their telepaths.”

“We’ll see about that-it’s a human rights issue. What about the members?”

“Everybody wants to make their own policy. The Russian Consortium and Amazonia are being real pains. Both are going to vote against you-maybe China, too. You’ll squeak by with a majority, but the MRA is on shaky ground. We can’t afford to make a mistake here.”

Lee studied his aide for a moment.

“Tom, you gettin’ any sleep at all?”

Tom blinked.

“Not much.”

“Take care of yourself. I need you.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Any movement on the other front?”

“Vacuum. There were some experiments by various militaries trying to develop exploitable psionic powers in the twentieth, but none of them went anywhere. For the last hundred years, nothing.”

“Damn it, somebody did it. If not a country, then a corporation. There has to be some evidence other than the telepaths themselves . Tokash’s telepaths haven’t come up with anything?”

“Nothing. Every telepath they’ve scanned had a normal enough childhood, their powers aside, and no connections other than what one would normally suspect. If they are part of some larger conspiracy , it’s very well hidden.”

“We’re missing something.”

“No doubt.”

“This is important, Tom. I want to ride the tiger, not discover ten years down the road that I have my head in its mouth.”

“You and me both, Senator.”

CHAPTER 5

Blood watched the DiPeso show with growing interest. A dry Arizona breeze blew in through the open door, and carried with it the throaty croak of a raven.

“I wonder if Crawford is one of us?” Teal murmured. “He seems too smart to be a normal.”

“Normals aren’t stupid,” Blood said. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“And we aren’t all that smart. I had a bad moment back there in Alaska. Don’t remind me of it. Arrogance will get us killed.”

Mercy shifted uncomfortably on the couch, curling up like a cat.

“How can we hide, now that they have the test?”

Blood looked frankly at her.

“The question is-do we really want to hide?”

Teal tilted his chair back against the wall.

“What do you mean?”

Blood shrugged indifferently. Where’s Monkey, anyway? You know Monkey. Send him out for groceries, and he ends up with every cop in town on his tail. (pause) Why are you blocking? Aren’t we family? We are. I just don’t know what I’m thinking, yet. I want to get it straight in my head before-Someone was at the door. Monkey and someone else, someone locked and blocked tighter than anyone Blood had ever touched. She eased her hand onto the pistol in her jacket pocket. Monkey poked his head through the door. Howdy and salutations. Talk, Monkey. Mercy-Right. Like you and Smoke weren’t going on when 1 got here. He cleared his throat.

“Look, folks, I’ve got someone with me. Come on, little fellah-” A boy of perhaps six looked uncertainly through the door. The dark tone of his skin and shape of his face suggested Hispanic or Amerind blood-not unusual in Flagstaff-but his brown hair was touched with golden highlights.