Mutant Legacy (10 page)

His eyes were bright but there were dark circles under them and his face was thin, even drawn. He looked ten years older than when I had last seen him. I suddenly remembered the vid image of him stumbling in Mexico City and I was more worried than ever.

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For a moment I was so stunned by his appearance that I couldn’t speak. Then I found my voice. “My God, you look like a wreck.”

“Just tired,” Rick said. “Nothing that a good night’s sleep won’t fix.”

“Bullshit, Rick. You look absolutely depleted. When was the last time you had a checkup?”

“Hey, did you call to play doctor? Don’t waste your time or mine.”

“Rick—”

He turned away from the screen as if to go.

“Wait—”

“What is it?”

My concern flipped over into anger. “Just what do you think you’re doing, Rick? Running yourself into the ground with televised appeals and documentaries on your healings? And now you’re building a city? Even God rested on the seventh day, you know.”

“Whoa, now cool down, Julian.”

“No, I won’t cool down.” My hands were shaking and so was my voice. “Do you realize the risks you’re taking? The furor you’ve created?”

“Sure. And I also noticed that you’ve been one of my loudest critics, Dr. Akimura-of-the-mutants.” His smile was suddenly gone but his tone was still light, almost playful. He was treating me with a certain indulgent fondness that I found completely maddening.

“Do you blame me? You’re out of control, maybe even irrational.”

“Oh, so helping people is crazy? Since when?”

“How much of what you’re doing is helping and how much of it is ego gratification, Rick? Sheer grandstanding just for the hell of it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” My brother sounded just the tiniest bit impatient. “We’ve been all through this, Julian. You, of all people, should understand. You know why I’m doing it.”

“Not why you’re suddenly publicizing every move you make. When do we get a peek at ‘Rick, the Bathroom Tapes’?”

“Look, did you call just to do a comedy routine with me or was there something you really wanted to talk about?”

“Rick, please, you must stop. Abandon this plan to build a city. You’re getting too ambitious, drawing too much attention to yourself. You don’t know the kind of trouble you’re making for yourself and the other mutants.”

“Trouble? As far as I can see, it’s just the opposite. A bonanza. Everybody wins.”

“The nonmutants don’t really understand you. They expect all mutants to have your powers and are furious that we all seem to have been withholding our secret talents from them.”

“Well, in a way, haven’t we?”

“Meanwhile, the government, various organized religions, and the American Medical Association have been putting a lot of heat on the Mutant Council over you.”

“Good.”

“Rick, you don’t know what you’re saying. You’ve almost doubled the population of this area. You’re stretching the available resources too far too fast.”

“We can take care of ourselves, Julian. You’re the one who seems confused. If you would only come out here and join us, then you’d understand why thi Sstatake s construction project is so important—so crucial to my plans.”

“But an entire city, Rick? Where are you getting the money? The materials?”

“We’re using what’s already here. And we get a lot of donations.” He winked smartly. “We’ve got international interest in our efforts, little brother. Which translates directly into eurodollars.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Of course not. And I don’t see why the mutants are so upset with me. They won’t be satisfied unless I let them run things, which I can’t do. So they’ve refused to participate as equal partners. Too bad. Let them take some heat. What are they going to do about it, little brother? Send a couple of first-level telepaths after me? I can hold them off in my sleep.”

“Rick, this might be construed as counterphobic behavior. Are you trying to rub their noses in what you’re doing?”

“No, of course not. I don’t have energy to waste on petty vendettas, Julian. The time was right for this expansion. Do you know that as a result of our vid broadcasts we’ve gained an extended membership base of one hundred thousand?”

“My God,” I said. “Are you serious? Can you actually deal with that number? Across the country?”

“
Internationally
. Of course we can. Compared to the big boys and girls and their official churches it’s doodly-squat.”

“Churches? Wait a minute, Rick. I thought Better World was a secular organization.”

“It’s whatever anybody needs it to be: secular, ecumenical, holy, free lunch, whatever.” He seemed to be spectacularly unconcerned.

“You know that some people are calling it a cult.”

“And if they feel better treating it as a cult, what do I care? Especially if it enables me to reach and help more people.”

“Rick, I thought you wanted this to be a small, grassroots organization.”

“Things change. They grow and change, Julian.”

“Into an entire community?”

“Why not? As soon as Better City is finished, we’ll be able to accommodate three or four times our current membership.”

“Are you telling me you intend to house the entire membership?”

“As much as we can. Julian, many of them have nowhere else to go. Better World just fits in where the state and federal safety nets unravel. And it’s amazing what happens to someone who’s been down on his luck when he’s given shelter, regular meals, and work to do. It’s like magic.”

“Your followers are building you your own personal Xanadu?”

“It’s not for me, Julian. It’s for them. And they’re good workers, too.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“I wish you would. I need your help more than ever, little brother.”

“You know how I feel about Better World. I’ve shot my mouth off all over the vid as standing firmly against you.”

Rick waved away my arguments. “I don’t pay any attention to that, Julian. You have to do what you feel is right, I know that. But there’ll always be Sllmbershi a place here for you, little brother. You’re my flesh and blood.”

“Please, Rick,” I said. “Won’t you stop this foolishness before it all falls in on your head?”

“Sorry, little brother. You know I can’t do that. But take good care of yourself. And call anytime. You know where to find me.”

Spring turned into summer, bringing the usual malaise of warm weather. Boston is a city well suited to spring or autumn, the transitional seasons. It even has a certain chilly appeal early in winter when the Charles is thickened with ice and the brick row houses near the harbor wear neat caps of new-fallen snow. But summer leaves the city limp and steaming, draws the life out of it, and sends residents scuttling for deep shadow and beach cottages. Half a century ago, city planners had spurned requests for climate-control domes, arguing that such urban improvements would destroy Boston’s unique character. At the moment I would have settled for a bit less character and a whole lot more comfort.

I tried to ignore my misgivings about Better World with the distraction of work, and was even somewhat successful. I sweated my way through the days and stumbled home at night, exhausted. But at night my dreams were filled with strange scenes of Rick moving mountains, floating through space, even walking on water. The worst dream of all was—well, I hoped that it
was
a dream. I told myself it was but I’m still not sure.

I dreamed that I had slipped into a bottomless, dreamless slumber, falling and falling, but at some hour before dawn I awoke in the dark with the breath caught and sticking in my chest. Someone was in the room with me. I reached out, tapped the bedside module, and the small, round lamp came to life, casting a yellow glow across the room.

Something golden sparkled by the door. Golden eyes fixed upon me the way a jungle cat stares down its prey.

I must have jumped almost a foot into the air; the jellbed sloshed as I bounced down against its pliant surface. “Jesus Christ, Rick! What are you doing here?”

My brother was silent, motionless, leaning against the blue paneling of my bedroom wall like a waxen doll. He appeared dazed, perhaps even hypnotized. Only when I moved did he blink.

“Hi,” he said. His voice was weirdly furry, so remote that he might have been speaking from another room.

“It’s two in the morning,” I said. “I thought you were in New Mexico. Are you all right?”

“I’m hiding.”

“From what? Whom?”

“Alanna.”

“Oh.” I lay back against the pillows, momentarily at a loss for words.

“I’m not kidding, Julian!” He could barely get the words out. I realized that he had been crying. But why? And were they tears of rage? Desire? Regret?

The healer in me took over right away. “Easy, Rick. Take it slow. Deep breaths. Tell me what’s happened.”

He rubbed the back of his hand against his wet cheeks. “I never asked—didn’t expect—didn’t want her back,” he said. “But now she’s here.” His eyes met mine and there was an unspoken plea in them. “Dammit, Julian. I still love her. I still want her. I know I should send her away. But I can’t. I can’t!”

“Are you crazy?” I said, Sy? Are you abandoning in that moment any role but that of brother. “What do you mean, you still want Alanna? It’s impossible and you know that.”

“Yes, I know.” His voice was rough, tortured.

“What did she tell you?”

“Oh, something about believing in my cause. Respecting Better World and wanting to work with it. I told her no, leave me alone. Go away. But then—”

“Maybe you’d better tell me what happened right from the beginning.”

He shot me a sharp look. “Well, she stared, I stared, a Tchaikovsky love theme resounded in the room, and we ran, slow-motion, into each other’s arms.”

“Rick, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what really went down.”

“Okay, okay. She made a couple of attempts to reach me but I gave all sorts of excuses. I didn’t want to see her. But she kept on, persisted, and finally, just to get rid of her, I said yes, come over. We just shook hands, both of us kind of stiff and clumsy. I asked her to come upstairs to take a look at the place—Betty nearly had a fit that I was wasting my time on this visitor when we already had an entire tour-guide system set up. But I gave Alanna the whole tour and she did the usual oohing and aahing. Everything was fine—awkward but okay. Just friends, right? Until she was standing by the window, looking out at the mountains. She was so beautiful, you know? And I started to think about how much I’d loved her. Thinking about all that we’d been through. How often, alone, at night, in the desert, I had thought of her. And then I wanted her. Dammit, Julian. I wanted to hold her, wanted to kiss her so badly I nearly went crazy, and well, you can imagine the rest.” He shrugged with actual embarrassment. “It was like she could read my mind. And I’m the one with telepathy, remember? She just turned and held out her arms. It felt as if we’d never been apart for a moment.”

“And now what?”

“She wants to close up her house in California and move out to New Mexico to be with me.”

My heart sank. “And what do you want?”

My brother shook his head in bewilderment. “I don’t know. One minute I want to run, get away. And the next I can’t wait to get back to her.”

I hate tilting at windmills, but I decided to make at least one valiant effort to deflect what seemed to be inevitable, so I said, “Let me give you some brotherly advice, all right? Send Alanna home, as quickly as possible.”

He stared at me, speechless. Then he shook his head. “Can’t do it. I just can’t.”

“Rick, I’ve got a terrible feeling about all this.”

“I know, Brother. And you’re probably right. But I still can’t do it.”

“Fine.” I was suddenly angry again. Didn’t the fool know what he was doing? “Then go ahead and make your own mess, Rick. It’s not my problem.”

“Hey, come on, Julian. Don’t be that way. Don’t be angry. You know I trust your judgment. Even when I decide to ignore it.” He smiled his crooked smile at me and once again I was reminded of our biological father.

I waved my hands in defeat. “So Alanna’ll stay?”

He nodded.

“What about Better World?”

“She says she wants to be a part of it.”

“What about her money?”

“Are you suggesting I’m manipulating her for Narlydda’s loot?”

“Just probing the possibility.”

“Save it for the lab, Julian. Alanna’s money is her own.”

“Okay, so she moves in here and starts working for B.W. What about the staff? Betty?”

“They’ll all love her.”

“What about Betty? She seemed pretty jealous of her prerogatives.”

“Are you kidding? She’ll love Lanna once she gets to know her. It’ll be somebody else for her to mother. Somebody who’s close to me.”

“And Mom? She might not love this quite so much.”

“If she comes out to New Mexico and makes trouble I’ll send her off on a field trip. Maybe let her open a branch of Better World in Nepal.”