Dark Genesis: The Birth of the Psi Corps (8 page)

“Monkey, what are you doing?”

“Hey, Blood, he’s one of us. And strong, too. Feel that block?”

“I feel it. Since when did you start picking up strays?”

“Since when did we stop?”

Monkey growled, uncharacteristically indignant.

“He was just wandering the street with an old Indian woman, real low level, but on the wind, all right. I tried to get her to come, too, but she just pushed the boy off on me. I scanned her, but she got pissed off, and I didn’t learn much. I think she found the boy in the desert a few months ago.”

“You want us to take care of a kid?”

“For G-God’s sake,” Mercy stuttered, unfolding herself from the couch. “Are you going to talk about him like he isn’t here? Come here, son.” The boy hesitated for an instant, and then came forward and let Mercy gather him up.

“I’ll get him something to eat,” Teal said. Jeez, Blood, c’mon. It’s not like he’s a normal kid. He’s one of us. Didn’t we make a vow that we would take anyone in we found, make them part of the family? Damn straight, Monkey said. Look, Mercy is already playing mama-The boy jerked, stared at Monkey with wide eyes. Hello, that got something-Mercy frowned up at them.

“I don’t appreciate being left out.”

“Sorry,” Monkey said. “But the boy responded to our wind-talk just now.”

“Be careful with him,” Mercy said, stroking his head, touching his face. “He doesn’t want to let us in, yet. Just give him some time.” Blood sighed and reached forward to tousle the boy’s head. “Welcome to the family, kid.” She felt Monkey coming before she saw him, but she kept her eyes on the dark disk of the new moon. The Night, the Wind, the Sorcerer, he said, as he eased up behind her. Leave me alone. “Are you still mad about the kid?”

“I’m not mad, O’Hannlon-I’m worried.”

“Don’t use my mundane name. I never want to hear it again.”

“We aren’t kids anymore, Monkey. It’s time to grow up. I’m not the Blood Woman any more than you’re really Sun Wu Kong. We’re just Desa Alexander and Jack O’ Hannlon, just like when we met.”

“No. Not like when we met. We’ve made each other better. We’ve walked the wild paths and come through alive and kicking. You’re lettin’ the mundane world screw with you. We’re above it. We’re the future, Blood.”

“I don’t know if I see a future.”

She felt his breath on her neck then. Don’t fool yourself, Blood. You’re a tiger, not a herd beast. You’re cobra. Blackhearted She felt his desire like it was her own, a delight as dark and strange as her first taste of licorice. His nails trailed down her face, across the thin fabric of her shirt, her belly. This is what I’m talking about, she managed. We know how bad we are together-This is bad? He did something new with his hand. (!!)No! You think too much. She whirled on him then, suddenly angry, almost hating him. But then she saw his eyes, and she knotted her fists in his copper hair, bit his lip, and for a time did not think at all.

Three months passed. Everyone got crummy normal jobs, Blood’s crummier than most, waiting tables in a bar. Something of a comedown for the dark goddess. But telepath testing was working its way through the ranks of business and government jobs first-she figured it would be a while before they got around to waitresses. Somebody noticed the kid, and a social worker came by. They told him he was Blood’s sister’s son. which seemed to satisfy, but they had to put him in school. He seemed to improve a little, after that, though he was in special classes. Mercy made her announcement at the dinner table. It was clear that something was bothering her. Her shields were up-they were as thin as paper, of course, and Blood could have poked through them anytime she wanted, but the family respected privacy . If Mercy wanted to shield, they let her. But then she told them.

“They tested me today.” Blood froze with the spoon halfway to her mouth, as the table became a sudden whirlwind of silent panic. The boy, whom they had taken to calling James, cringed.

“You let them test you?” Blood said, slowly.

“It was a surprise. They just came through the office and took some tissue.”

“And?”

“And I’m a teep.”

“Big surprise. Well, we’ve been here long enough. Time to-“

“No.” Mercy’s voice was as firm as Blood had ever heard it. The mind behind it was firm, too. “No, I can’t keep moving like this. I’m not like the rest of you. I …” She stumbled off, and Blood caught some vague images—herself as the dark goddess, the mindscream of a hundred people dying when Monkey’s bomb went off. “I like my job.”

“You like being a secretary?”

“It’s honest.”

“But they’ll never let you keep it, not now that they know. Christ, I knew this was going to happen.”

“I’ll take the injection,” Mercy said, softly. “They said I could keep working there if I took the injection.”

Smoke frowned.

“Can’t let them still your wind.”

“Yes, I can. It doesn’t matter. I’m not strong enough for it to matter anyway. What little use I get from my talent has only made me unhappy. Even with you guys. It’s best.”

They argued more, but Mercy was firm. Mercy came back the next day like a dead woman. When Blood tried to touch her mind, she had to run for the toilet, and there she vomited for half an hour. Mercy curled on the couch, her normally lively eyes blank. She watched the vid with only sluggish interest. Tentatively, Blood scanned her again. She was reminded of Novocain , and also of heroin. It was as if Mercy only remembered being alive. She locked Mercy in her room the next day, called her boss, and told him that the injection had made her sick. That would put them off for a day, maybe, but then they would come hunting for her. And when they came for her, they would find them all. But no one would do this to one of hers, ever again.

“I’m going to the school to get James,” she told Teal and Smoke. “When Monkey gets back, don’t let him wander. We leave tonight.”

Outside, the thin air was fragile with autumn, Arizona’s San Francisco Peaks challenging the clear, dark sky with their sun-dazzled starkness, and she struggled to see beauty, slow her breathing, still the desire to find Mercy’s boss, rip open his mind, find out who had injected her friend. Mercy, the one who painted pictures, who wrote poetry, whose mind opened like a flower to beauty. Blood was their heart, sometimes fist; Teal, their intellect; Monkey, their passion and lunacy; Smoke, their quiet strength-but Mercy, Mercy was their soul. Now she was embalmed alive. She should kill them. They knew what they were doing. If the drug had lasting effects, she would. She swore she would. The secretary smiled briskly when Blood got to the office.

“Hello, I’m Ms. Nogales,” she said. “I’ve come for my nephew, James. We’ve had a family emergency.”

The secretary aimed her sharp nose at Blood.

“Which grade is he in?” she asked, pleasantly.

“First. In the special class.”

“Oh yes-I think they’re being tested now.”

“Tested?”

“Telepath screening.”

Blood blinked.

“Without my permission?”

“It’s the law, Ms. Nogales. It’s a painless procedure.”

“Where?”

“The lunchroom. But you can’t–’

Blood left her explaining what she couldn’t do. She knew where the lunchroom was. They were all lined up, as if for inoculations. Two competent-looking women in white coats were doing something to their arms with a steel cylinder, then inserting the cylinder into a black box. Blood scanned the line frantically, looking for James. She finally found him on the other side, absently munching on a cookie. Milk and cookies for the good little children at the other end of the line. She hurried over to him.

“Ms. Nogales?” She turned to see Mr. Craig, James’ teacher. “What’s going on here?” she demanded.

“Compulsory testing. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“James is delicate,” she said heatedly.

“He did fine. Didn’t you James? And you’ll be happy to know, Ms. Nogales-he came up perfectly normal.”

She touched Craig lightly. It was the truth.

“Well, thank God,” she said.

“Most kids are normal. Only one in ten thousand tests out as a telepath. I doubt we’ll even find one here today.”

She nodded. “Well, I’m relieved. I came by to pick James up.”

“Oh?” Suspicion leaked out under his words.

“Yes. His grandfather, I’m afraid.”

“I’m terribly sorry to hear that. How long will he be out?”

“Only a few days, l hope. We have to go to Houston.”

“Well, we’ll miss you, James,” he said to the boy. James kept nibbling on the cookie. When she took his hand, Blood tasted the chocolate chips. “Come on, James, we have to take a little trip.”

Outside, in the car, she managed to relax a little. Thirty percent , she thought. Thirty percent will get through. You’re a lucky boy, James. But that was probably as much luck as her little family could count on. It was time for them to make their own luck.

CHAPTER 6

“Ah, Senator Menshikov,” Lee said. “So good of you to join me.”

Out on the grounds, the party had quieted, though perhaps twenty people still played croquet as the fireflies trembled up from the grass. Lee sipped his bourbon and leaned over to kiss Alice on the cheek.

“Alice, would you mind seeing how everyone else is doing?” His wife disengaged herself from him and rose a little unsteadily to her feet. She had had a bit too much to drink, something that was beginning to worry him. Menshikov waited silently, until she was gone.

“Quite a place you have here,” he commented, taking a seat in one of the large rocking chairs.

Lee gestured at the house and grounds with his bourbon.

“Not my ancestral home,” he remarked. “I grew up in one of the block tenements that used to stand just over that hill, on the outskirts of Natchez. My friends and 1 used to sneak over to admire this place, just to spend a few minutes in the gardens before the gardeners chased us out.” He smiled at the recollection. “It was a big house, and I suppose we got big dreams from it. Antebellum revival, you know, built in 2064. Sturdy stuff.”

“No slaves, I notice.”

“Now, Senator, no need to be nasty. I don’t provoke you with asides about human rights issues in your own past-and I believe the Russian Consortium boasts a few. We take the good from the past, you and 1, and we leave the rest to rot. We aren’t romantics, are we?”

Menshikov grinned sardonically.

“I assumed you brought me-and the rest of your guests-to talk about the present?”

Lee shook his head.

“The future. I’ll be frank-I’ d like to know why you’re blocking me on the military issue.”

“I don’t believe telepaths have any legitimate function in the military.”

Now it was Lee’s turn to show a wolf’s grin.

“You mean in the Earth Alliance military, don’t you? Because you have them in your own.”

Menshikov leaned into the chair, his eyes widening slightly as it rocked back, but otherwise keeping his composure.

“I deny that categorically. I hope you didn’t invite me to your house to insult me.”

“Quite the opposite. I’m tryin’ to schmooze you. Can 1 get you another drink? Vodka. You’re a traditional guy-you can’t turn down a drink.”

“No, I suppose I can’t.”

Lee signed for a servant, who already had the drink poured.

“To understanding,” he toasted, and they drank. The girl brought two more.

“Senator.” Menshikov chuckled. “I seriously hope you don’t intend to try to drink me under the table. Russians have evolved a higher capacity for drink through the simple process of natural selection.”

“Senator,” Lee replied, “You’re talking to the end product of four hundred years of hybrid vigor when it comes to that. I’m descended from a long line of drunks from thirteen different countries . Prosit.”

They drank again, and Menshikov cocked his eye.

“Aren’t you satisfied? You’ve placed your MR4 people in the business sector, in the judiciary system-now you want EarthForce to have them?”

“We need them to maintain stability, and you know it. Every Earth Alliance nation-state keeps its own stable of telepaths, despite the resolution against it. I know it and you know it, so let’s not play that game-not here, not now, with no reporters around, just me and you. That’s fine. But we can’t go too far that way. If we aren’t going to devolve into some twentieth-century nightmare—if EardiForce is to play its role as the peacekeeper and enforcer of the solar system—EarthForce needs telepaths.”

More vodka appeared. Menshikov took the small crystal glass and held it between thumb and forefinger, staring speculatively at the cold, clear liquid.

“You know,” he said, “it isn’t so much that I disagree with you. The problem, you see, is that anything we give to the MRA we also give to you, Senator. You have become entirely too powerful in entirely too short of a time, and to be frank, I do not like you. The fools in the Senate have given you telepaths-the only ones in the world legitimized to use their powers. Then they allowed you to place these people among the most powerful corporations on Faith, and to involve them in the process of the judiciary-“

“No one objected to that. Business begged for them, to monitor transactions, all on the up-and-up. The judicial system needed them, too, to help victims identify criminals. Bottom line was, I was asked to justify the existence of the MRA in monetary terms-by you among others, if I remember correctly.”

Menshikov nodded sadly.

“It was a mistake, I see that now. I won’t compound my mistake by giving you the military, too.”

“Don’t you think you are being the least bit paranoid, Senator?”

“Hah. Russians have also been bred for paranoia. First, everyone in the world invaded us. The Mongols. Napoleon. Hitler. Then we put our trust in Stalin, in Khrushchev, in Yeltsin, in Kolishnikov . We reluctantly trusted the West once again to help us rebuild after the civil war, and found ourselves an economic colony for twenty years. So yes, I am paranoid, and history has taught me that I am right to be-that I would be a fool not to be. And I do not trust you, Senator Crawford. You are entirely too glib and entirely too strong. And I do not find that I want any more of your vodka.” He set the glass down.