The Damned Trilogy

by Alan Dean Foster

  Usilayy betrayed no sign of the war that raged around distant strategic centers and military targets. The city simmered beneath a serene autumnal sun, genial and bustling, ablaze with late-season flowers and trees that dripped coppery-colored leaves into neatly domesticated streams and dancing fountains. Within its protected and manicured confines the notion of war seemed a far-off, abstract obscenity.

  Wais officials left disposition of the special prisoners to grim-faced Massood and Humans, studiously avoiding allies and enemies alike.

  Despite the knowledge that he’d done remarkably well in safely delivering twenty-five of his companions to the Weave, Ranji couldn’t help but lament the absence of good friends like Soratii and Cossinza. Their deliverance would have to await additional progress. With luck the invasion would fail and they would be captured before they could be evacuated.

  If not, at least Tourmast and Weenn and the rest could be shown the truth. Afterward they could somehow be returned home or to their units, there to further spread the knowledge of what the Amplitur had done to them. They’d have no other choice, any more than had Ranji.

  It would all have to be done with the greatest stealth and care lest the Amplitur learn what was happening. Ranji would not put it past the Teachers to sorrowfully and with great regret put an end to an unsuccessful experiment by having the several thousand participants still under their control quietly terminated.

  It was proposed that the captives observe the operation via special monitors set up for that purpose, but despite the fact that no actual cutting was involved, Tourmast and the others would have none of that. Unanimously, they insisted on being present in person. Otherwise they would believe nothing.

  In appropriate garb they crowded into the operating theater. It was spacious, spotless, and elegant, as befitted a Wais-built facility. Visible instruments mirrored in design the multitude of flowers that carpeted the grounds outside. In aspect it was far more reassuring than intimidating.

  Ranji was with his brother in Preop. Their respective situations notwithstanding, it was Saguio who did most of the comforting.

  “Relax, Ranj. If what you’ve been saying is true, then I’ve nothing to worry about.”

  “It’s still a complex operation.” Ranji gazed down at his brother. “Even if they are just severing neurons and not excising the nodule itself.”

  “Hey, you went through it, and look at you: no crazier than usual.” Saguio grinned tightly. “Not that I’m not ready to get it over with.”

  “I’ll be there every minute. So will the whole squad.”

  “Yeah, great.” Fear momentarily shadowed the younger man’s face. He forced it aside. “Don’t let ’em cut anything I might want to use later.”

  An O’o’yan arrived to administer a glass of water containing an oral anesthetic. Five minutes later two of the short, reptilian meditechs were guiding the cushioned operating pallet and its comatose cargo into the Surgery.

  Conversation died among the onlookers as Saguio’s pallet arrived and was locked in position. The O’o’yan immobilized his head with air clamps, then stepped back. Several Massood guarded the doorways.

  A pair of Hivistahm assumed operators’ positions at the surgical station. They were accompanied by a Human surgical programmer, the most competent on Ulaluable. After scrutinizing them dubiously, Ranji walked over and put a hand on the top of the console.

  “Wait a minute. Where’s First-of-Surgery?”

  The nearer of the two Hivistahm blinked up at him. “I Second-of-Surgery am, chief physician on Ulaluable. The First-of-Surgery to whom you refer unable to come is. Distance and time prohibitive are.”

  An anxious Ranji looked over at his recumbent, anesthetized brother. Lying there motionless he looked even younger than he was. “None of you have ever been involved in an operation like this. I expected someone experienced.”

  The other Hivistahm replied stiffly. “I assure you that there is no need our competency to question. The appropriate programming instructions were transmitted and thrice checked before into the computer being entered. Remember that it in control of the actual procedure is. We are present only to check and monitor.”

  Still Ranji hesitated. “That programming was designed for my skull, my brain. Not Saguio’s.”

  “The instrumentation is designed variations into account to take. Truly calm yourself. If uncertainty arises, we are here to adjudicate.”

  Tourmast’s voice sounded from nearby. “Something wrong, Unifer?”

  He could insist they wait until First-of-Surgery came in person from Omaphil. That risked unnerving his fellow Cossuutians even more than they already were. He wavered, staring at the helpless form of his brother.

  “Call it off,” he said finally, walking around the console. “I don’t care how carefully you recorded the necessary instructions, I’m not going to allow …” Something stung him in the middle of the back and he whirled. One of the Massood guards was standing there, pointing a narrow metal tube in his direction. Two long fingers were tensed on the complex triggering mechanism.

  It seemed as if the Surgery was being pumped full of fog. He stumbled against the console, dimly felt it bang into his back. Through the thickening mist he heard the rising, uncertain murmuring of his fellow soldiers, and the voice of the Hivistahm in charge.

  “Better it is that the patient not remain long under anesthesia. There no danger is. Your leader understandably concerned for his sibling is. He merely tranquilized has been. This way is for him and his brother both better. Everything under control is. By the Circle I, as a physician, swear it.”

  As the shot’s effects spread like a deep massage throughout his body Ranji lost control of his lower limbs. Two Massood caught him under the arms and at the ankles. He felt himself being carried from the room. Fighting to shout, to call for help, he discovered that his larynx had been rendered as dysfunctional as his legs.

  A face appeared before his eyes, its outlines swimming. Weenn gazed down at Ranji as he was carried past. The fluid expression on his friend’s face was unreadable.

  When he awoke he sat up in the bed so sharply that the O’o’yan attendant who happened to be checking his waste-recovery system fainted, with the result that instead of shouting imprecations and demands, Ranji found himself bending over the unconscious creature trying to stop the slight bleeding at the back of its head.

  His return to consciousness, not to mention his abrupt physical reaction, had alerted monitoring hospital instrumentation. Hivistahm and other O’o’yan came running. Those first on the scene were greeted by the disconcerting sight of the Human warrior bending over the bleeding attendant. The tension level rose quickly until Ranji was able to explain. Thus reassured, they hurried to assist both O’o’yan and patient.

  Ranji apologized, and the attendant absolved him of any blame. It was his fault, the O’o’yan explained. Though an experienced meditech, he’d never worked with Humans before. It was his responsibility to be appropriately prepared, and he ought to have anticipated potential shocks.

  “Your concern is appreciated,” the attendant concluded.

  “Never mind that.” An impatient Ranji evaluated shoulder insignia until he located the highest-ranking Hivistahm present. “How is my brother? Where is he?”

  “He’s fine.” A young man stood grinning in the doorway. “Resting comfortably.” As he entered Ranji saw above his heart the symbol of the Human combat meditech corps … the traditional caduceus with its entwined snakes spitting caustic venom. “Matter of fact, he’s in the next room.”

  Ranji started forward, stumbled, and allowed the tech to steady him. Though concerned, none of the Hivistahm or O’o’yan stepped forward to offer physical assistance. They were still subject to certain inherent antipathies only a few of their kind had been able to overcome. They examined the nude primate with professional detachment.

  “Take deep breaths,” the tech advised Ranji. “Your clothes are in the side closet.”

&nb
sp; Ranji nodded and did as he was instructed. When he felt halfway steady on his feet he dressed. Still fumbling with the seals on his undersuit he hurried to the next room down the hall. Two Massood were posted there, two Humans within. At a nod from the tech they let him pass.

  Saguio was sitting up in bed, an entertainment projection dancing in the air before him. As his brother entered he waved and touched an unseen button. The projection vanished.

  “Hi, Ranj.” He smiled easily, looking relaxed and comfortable. “You look worse than I do.”

  Ranji put out a hand to steady himself against the wall. “I suppose I must. How are you feeling?”

  “Well. I heard what happened to you. That was a nice gesture, but apparently unnecessary. I’ve been up all morning. You haven’t.” He looked past his brother to the tech and the guards. “Could we have some privacy, please?”

  The tech hesitated, then nodded. Turning, he spoke to the guards, smiled briefly back into the room before following them out into the corridor.

  Ranji scanned the room. “Probably isn’t any privacy. I’m sure they’ve had sensors on both of us ever since we got here.”

  “I’d be surprised if it was any other way. If the situation were reversed, we’d be doing the same. The rest of the squad was in earlier. They watched the operation. It must’ve been pretty convincing because they all believe you now. So do I, even though I didn’t get to see anything. Tourmast said that organ showed up on the visual probe exactly as you described it. The meditechs even let them manipulate the visuals themselves.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t feel any different.”

  “No,” Ranji told him slowly, “you won’t.”

  “They ran some tests on me right afterward. Stuck me in a machine they said came as close to duplicating a Teacher … an Amplitur mind-touch as could be done with circuits and programming. This time I was conscious of what was happening inside my head. I could feel the pushing. Never felt that before.” He shifted in the bed, gazed earnestly at his brother. “Is that really what it’s like? The Teachers really have been making us do what they want without us even realizing it?”

  Ranji nodded slowly, luxuriating in the increasingly familiar Human gesture. “They’ve always referred to their pushes as ‘suggestions.’ I suppose that’s all they are, except that nobody has the ability to turn one down. Except Humans. The operation doesn’t give us back the Human neurodefense mechanism, but it does make us immune to Amplitur suggestion. Those of us who have the surgery will never have to suffer that again.”

  “And the rest of it, about us being abducted Human children and all, that’s true then, too?” Ranji nodded solemnly.

  Saguio looked pensive for a while. “It’s a lot to handle all at once, Ranj. A lot.”

  “Sorry. It’s not the kind of thing that can be ladled out in small doses.”

  “How long have you known? Since your disappearance on Eirrosad, right?” Without waiting for his brother to reply he leaned back against the curving mattress. “I’ve been Ashregan all my life, and now a few scalpel passes later I’m Human. I wish I did feel differently. It might make it easier to accept.” He touched his head. “The damned thing’s still in there, isn’t it?”

  “They told me that it’s too deeply embedded in the cerebrum to risk removing,” Ranji explained. He touched his own skull. “I have one, too, remember. So do all our friends.” He found a chair and pulled it over next to the bed. Though designed to support the backside of a Hivistahm tech, it would hold him if he watched his balance.

  “There are things that have been bothering me ever since we landed on this world. I wanted to be able to share them with someone, but I had to wait. Now I can share them with you.”

  Saguio blinked ingenuously. “Share away.”

  Ranji hesitated. “What time are they supposed to feed you?”

  His brother gave him a strange look but replied readily. “I last ate about an hour ago. I don’t imagine I’m due for another feeding until evening.”

  “Call an attendant. You have the means to do that, don’t you?”

  “Sure.” Saguio thumbed the requisite switch. Moments later a single O’o’yan entered. Ranji addressed it without turning, keeping his eyes on his brother.

  “We’d like something to eat, please.”

  “It is not yet scheduled.”

  Ranji concentrated on his request. “We really would like something to eat. Now.”

  The O’o’yan blinked. “Certainly. Do you have a particular meal request?”

  “No.” Ranji was satisfied with the response. “Whatever you can bring will be fine.”

  “Very well.” The slim little reptilian attendant left to comply.

  Saguio was staring intently. At the same time he was quite aware of the presence of untiring monitors in the room.

  “What was that all about?”

  “Nothing,” said Ranji in a slow, deliberately self-contradictory manner. “I was just feeling hungry.”

  “Oh, yeah. Hungry.”

  A silent Ranji sat across from his brother, pondering. The sensors overhead could record his words, his expressions, his movements; but they could not read his thoughts.

  The experiment only confirmed the hypothesis that had been maturing in his mind ever since he’d had the disagreement with the female Ashregan Unifer in the gully outside the power distribution complex. She’d consented to his radical proposal too quickly, too easily. At the time he’d thought little of it, though it had nagged at him intermittently ever since.

  Then had come the confrontation with the two Massood technicians inside the switching station. After that he’d no longer been able to bury his suspicions in the back of his mind.

  And now the ready acquiescence to his request for an unscheduled meal. From an O’o’yan, for whom a deviation in scheduling was akin to altering respiration.

  He was anxious to test his theory further. On a S’van, perhaps, or a Massood field officer. The effort required was something of a strain, like concentrating for a long time on small print.

  According to what the Hivistahm had told him on Omaphil, the effect was electrical in nature. It had been explained to him that there were primitive creatures which could sense such impulses but could not distinguish those generated by the mind from those produced by the rest of the body, nor could they in turn affect them. They could only detect. On Earth they were known as sharks, and the organs capable of detecting and crudely analyzing impulses were called the Ampullae of Lorenzini. Coincidentally, the attitude and temperament of such creatures was said to be not unlike that of Humans themselves.

  What name should he give to the related but far more sophisticated organ inside his brain? What did the Amplitur call that portion of their unique minds which could via projection induce subtle alterations in the firing of another sentient’s neurons? Induce, adjust, rechannel. Suggest.

  As he had suggested to the female Ashregan Sub-Unifer, the pair of Massood technicians, and now to a single O’o’yan medical attendant.

  He’d examined and reexamined the period immediately after his own operation and was positive that for some considerable while thereafter he hadn’t possessed such capabilities. Therefore they took time to develop. Perhaps something within the brain took time to heal following the actual surgery. Whatever it was, it was utterly unexpected. Of that he was certain. The Hivistahm surgeons, his fellow Humans, none of them knew or suspected anything.

  At present Saguio could do nothing, was completely unaware of the ability that might have unintentionally been bestowed on him as a side effect of the operation. As to whether he would develop anything like it only time would tell. Not a lot of time, either. Ranji would have to watch him very carefully. He was conscious of the fact that whatever had happened to him, to his mind, might constitute something unique, an aberration not to be repeated. Just because it had taken place in his brain as a result of the operation didn’t mean it would recur whenever similar surgery was performed on a fellow
modified Cossuutian. Individuals might heal, might recuperate differently, with wildly differing results.

  “You all right?” Saguio was eyeing him curiously.

  Ranji smiled. “Just the lingering effects of whatever it was that Massood smacked me with.”

  “What was it you wanted to share with me?”

  “Tell you later. Right now I want to know how the others are doing.”

  “Ciscine-oon and Dourid-aer agreed to have the operation as soon as I came out of it and proved to everyone’s satisfaction that no harm was involved. Ciscine’s probably in surgery right now. The head Hivistahm told me that if all went well they hoped to perform two operations a day until they’d gone through the whole squad. They had a second team standing by to execute the follow-ups.”

  Ranji frowned. “Follow-ups?”

  “You’re the one who told me about it. Cosmetic surgery.” Saguio scratched his cranial ridge with a too-long finger. “I imagine they’ll be coming for me pretty soon. You too, Ranj. If I’m going to be Human, I expect I’d better look the part. Bet I make a better-looking Human than you.” He reached out and put a hand on Ranji’s shoulder. “You’d better prepare yourself, brother, because when they finish cutting on me there are a lot of questions I mean to ask you.”

  Ranji gazed back at his sibling. “Don’t worry, Sagui. I’ll answer every question you’ve got. In fact, I have answers to questions you haven’t begun to formulate.”

  XXI

  The battle for Ulaluable raged, with the invaders seemingly incapable of making significant headway and the defenders unable to drive them off-world. Meanwhile, the pace of operations continued at a steady two per day as one after another of Ranji’s fellow soldiers submitted to the programmed manipulations of the sonic scalpel. The Hivistahm could easily have performed half a dozen of the surgeries per day, but the more dilatory pace allowed the anxious patients to receive greater individual attention during the recovery period, while simultaneously helping to assuage the lingering unease among the as yet untouched.