The Mutant Prime (21 page)

I feel like I’m walking through a dream, Melanie thought. Holding Prince Charming’s hand.

The new wing was barely finished. Blue carpeting lay piled in bolts against walls awaiting a final coating of enamel. The lighting here was raw, almost too bright after the gloom of the main building. Melanie blinked, watching dark after-shadows flare against her eyelids.

Doors all along the corridor yawned open into unfinished rooms. The night glowed softly through uncovered windows. Their steps echoed strangely along the uncarpeted hall.

“Yosh, there’s nothing here.”

“Shhh. Be patient,” he said. “I’ve got a hunch. …”

They both stopped as the lights flickered, dimmed as though in warning, then came back up. And at the far end of the corridor, a door was closed. Melanie was almost certain it was locked.

Yosh pressed the doorpad. The door stayed closed. He pulled a circular clamp out of his pocket, punched in a five-digit code, then pressed it against the lock.

“Skeleton key,” he said, grinning. “Tavia gave it to me as a joke after I accused her of living in a castle.”

With a whir, the door irised open.

The room within was shadowy and the walls were an odd blue shade that gave the space the look of an undersea world. An aquarium. A figure lay curled, catlike, upon a low bed set against the far wall. Yosh flicked on the coldlight and trained it on the room’s occupant. Slowly she sat up, rubbing her eyes. She had an angular face, golden eyes, green skin, and dark hair with a shock of white at her temple. It was the woman in Melanie’s dream.

“Yosh,” the green woman said. “Thank God.”

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

.

Nighttime in the desert. Cold. Stars harsh pinpricks in the black velvet sky.

Skerry ignored the chill. His cycle floated noiselessly over the silver sand. The bulk of Emory Foundation’s outer walls came into view over the nearest dune, a shimmering curve of green-black glass.

He turned off the cycle’s motor and dismounted. From the sack at his back he drew a pair of grapplers. Then he grabbed the laser pistol from its metallic holster and started toward the glass monolith.

Narlydda was somewhere inside. And supermutant or no supermutant, he would find her and bring her out, or bring the entire building down with him.

A cold gust of wind struck him in the face. He grinned at the chill.

Good cold. Helps me think. He sent a cautious mental probe out and felt it rebound back at him off the slick surface of the compound.

Just as I suspected, he thought. They’ve got some sort of elaborate esper shield. Probably state-of-the-art. Generated from inside.

He tried the main doors. They were locked. But no guard came to investigate the stranger knocking to be admitted. Strange.

Skerry walked around the compound’s perimeter until he came to the power plant. A watchman—a normal—was on duty outside.

Careless of them, he thought.

Skerry grinned and ducked out of sight. A quick probe told him that the man was mildly shielded. Now where did a normal get an esper shield? he wondered. There was something curious about the shield as well, but no time to analyze it now. He prodded the shield until he found its flaw. There was always an emotional weakness in esper shields. You just had to know where to look.

He took a deep breath and sent a directive mental thrust:
I wonder what Shayla is doing. She said she was going out to the breen show with friends. She should be home by now. But what if she’s not? What if she lied? Maybe she’s out with somebody else.

He waited. The guard paced nervously. Skerry amplified the thought.

She’d better be home. Alone
. The man looked to the right, then to the left. The remnants of his shield shattered, and Skerry slipped in easily to intensify his suspicions.

Maybe I should go home and see if she’s there. If she’s not alone, she’ll be sorry. Shayla, and whoever she’s with.

The guard nodded and hurried toward a dark skimmer parked at the side of the building. Skerry waved as he disappeared.

Good luck, Shayla, wherever you are, he thought.

The door to the powerhouse opened easily. Humming a tuneless song, Skerry walked inside, and locked the door behind him.

Michael stood by the bedside, helplessly studying the still, gray face behind the dials and orange monitors, trying to recognize his father under the plaskin bandages. The golden eyes were tightly shut Would they ever open again?

Despite the medical report, Michael was convinced that his father had tried to kill himself. A fall, the nurse had said. How could his father have fallen? He was watched almost every moment of the day. Medicated. Supervised. If somehow he’d managed to wrest a free moment away from his kindly captors, thrown off the drugs’ sedation, and flung himself off a sea cliff, Michael didn’t blame him. He’d probably have done the same. But how awful to have survived the attempt.

If I could help him go, I would, Michael thought.

The door opened and Sue Li walked in with Jena. The tension between the two women was obvious, and Michael wasn’t surprised. Most people found it difficult to relax in his wife’s company. Most women, anyway.

Michael kissed his mother, then turned to take his wife by the arm.

“Why are you here?” he said.

Sue Li turned to stare, her serene, controlled mask disrupted by his outburst. “She’s part of the family, Michael.” His mother’s voice held a note of warning. “She belongs here.”

To hell with tradition, Michael wanted to say. This woman has no business in this room. But there was his father’s putty-colored face. There was his grief-stricken mother, dark circles under her eyes. He took a stronger grip on his emotions, forced himself to nod. “You’re right,” he said, voice tight. “Thank you for coming, Jena.” Anything else he might have said was cut short, mercifully, by the arrival of his younger brother.

Jimmy smiled weakly and tried to straighten his jacket. He looked as though he’d been up for days.

“Mike, Jena.” He gave them a nod as he hugged Sue Li. “Mom.” Then he turned toward the bed. His face paled. “How is he?”

“Dying.” Sue Li’s voice was ragged with emotion.

Jimmy ran his hand through his hair. There was a look of helpless anguish on his face. “What happened?”

“Nobody knows,” Michael said. “They found him at the foot of the bluff.”

“How did he get there?”

“No one can answer that, either.”

They jumped as a strident three-note alarm split the air. The main monitor over James Ryton’s bed was flashing wildly back and forth across the spectrum.

“What’s happening?” Jena cried above the din. “Is he dead?”

Sue Li gave her a venomous look. “Get the doctor.”

Michael leaped for the door, but he was cut off by a mechnurse which rolled out of its wallslot, hypo poised in its foremost claw. In an instant, it brought the syringe down against James Ryton’s arm. A quick hiss, and the alarm died away as the dial above the bed returned to orange.

“He can’t last much longer,” Jimmy muttered. He sank down wearily on a wallseat near the bed. Sue Li took a seat beside him. Michael was about to suggest that he go for coffee when the door opened. Melanie?

“What are you doing here?” Jena demanded.

Michael whirled and came face to face with Kelly McLeod. She was poised in the doorway, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“Michael … I’m sorry. I just had to come when I heard. Heyran Landon told me where Dream Haven was.”

“Only mutants are welcome here,” Jena said coldly. “Why don’t you leave before you make things worse.”

Kelly ignored her. Her eyes sought out Sue Li. “Mrs. Ryton … I’m sorry to interrupt you at a time like this. If there’s anything I can do …”

“You’re very kind,” Sue Li said. “But certainly you didn’t come all this way just to extend your sympathy?”

“No.” Kelly looked at Michael for a long moment, then looked away. “No. I came because there’s a warrant out for your arrest, Michael. You failed to appear before the sub-committee. You’re in contempt of Congress. You’ve got to come back.”

“A warrant?” Michael laughed harshly. “What else can they do? Throw me in jail? They’re just going to have to wait until this is over. Then they can arrest me or hang me or do whatever else they want to me.” He sat down. “Thanks for coming, Kelly. I hope this won’t put you in jeopardy.”

“I’ll be all right.” She looked around uncertainly. “I didn’t mean to intrude—”

“Please, come and sit with us,” Sue Li said. She indicated a place next to her on the wallseat. “You’ve come a long way to warn Michael. You must be tired. Rest awhile.”

Jena’s expression was explosive. She glared at Sue Li, then at Michael and Kelly.

“I’m going for coffee!” she sputtered, and slammed out of the room.

Jimmy turned to his brother. “What’s she in a bad mood about?”

“She’s very upset about your father,” Sue Li said. “Now why don’t we all just chant together for inner tranquility. It’s easy, Kelly.” She smiled. “I’ll show you how.”

* * *

Melanie watched the tall woman embrace Yosh. In the dim light, the greenish cast to her skin was barely apparent. She was an unusual mutant, but Emory Foundation was filled with mutants. Maybe there was an enchanted mutant princess behind every door.

“What are you doing here?” Yosh said.

“I never left. Ashman did something to me that put me to sleep. When I awoke, I was in this cell. And I’ve been here ever since.”

“Alone?”

“Except when he visits me, or takes me out for a walk.”

Melanie couldn’t stand it any longer. “But I saw you,” she blurted out. “At least, I thought it was you. In the screen-room. Only you were transparent. Like a ghost.”

“I thought it was a dream,” the green woman whispered. “My esper quotient is so low, I didn’t think I could project anything at all. Especially from that room with its neural dampers. But you say that you saw me?”

“It looked like you,” Melanie said. “You tried to say something, but I couldn’t hear you. Then you faded away.”

The woman looked at her in surprise. “Who are you?”

Yosh hesitated and Melanie stepped forward. “My name is Melanie. Melanie Ryton.”

The woman smiled. “Hello, Melanie Ryton. My name is Narlydda.”

“The artist?”

She nodded.

Melanie felt the laughter building in her throat. She’d searched high and low for the elusive Narlydda, and where did she find her? On a midnight trek through an enchanted glass castle in the desert. The laughter bubbled up and out. She couldn’t control it. She knew the others were looking at her as though they thought she was crazy. She didn’t care. When the hysteria passed she wiped her eyes.

“If you only knew how long I’ve been looking for you, Narlydda,” Melanie said. “I’m a reporter for Cable News. And even using the Census Net, I couldn’t find you.”

“Good. I had to pay a bundle to keep my address out of that data base. Hmmm. Melanie Ryton. I knew your name sounded familiar.” The artist stared at her appraisingly. “Didn’t you call me about a month ago? But your eyes were a different color then.”

“So you
were
monitoring my call!”

Narlydda shrugged. “Even
I
feel curious occasionally.” Her expression changed suddenly as her mask of indifference was swept away by something primal and immediate. Fear. Desperation. “Get me out of this place and I’ll give you your interview, Melanie Ryton. Or anything else you want.”

“It’s a deal.”

Yosh leaned against the door. “Aren’t you forgetting something? The doors are all locked.”

“What are you talking about?” Narlydda said.

“Ashman’s got this place locked up tighter than a prison,” Yosh said.

“That’s a good word for it,” the artist said. “Well, if we can’t get out, isn’t there someplace where we can hide?”

You can run, but you can’t hide
.

The mindspeech was deafening. Melanie grabbed her head with both hands. Yosh sank to his knees. Only Narlydda stood, strangely untouched.

“Ashman, get your volume under control,” she said.

The supermutant slowly faded into view, like some old-time video. He looked displeased. “What are you all doing together?” he demanded. “Conspiring?”

“Conspiring? Against whom?” Yosh said. “You’re the one who has us locked in.”

Ashman stared at him fiercely. Then he smiled. It was almost a sweet smile.

“You look tired, Yosh. Sleep.”

Yosh’s eyes closed and he collapsed to the floor, curling into a tight, fetal ball.

“You’ve hurt him!” Melanie cried. She fell to her knees beside him. Yosh barely stirred as she touched his face.

“I haven’t hurt anybody,” Ashman said. “He’ll wake up in a day or two, feeling like he’s had a vacation. I just stimulated his sleep center.”