Babylon 5 11 - Psi Corps 02 - Deadly Relations - Bester Ascendant (Keyes, Gregory)

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Babylon 5 11 - Psi Corps 02 - Deadly Relations - Bester Ascendant (Keyes, Gregory) Page 2

by Bester Ascendant (Keyes, Gregory)


  He had made up his mind now. Brett was a traitorone of the rogues. Hed been planted in Psi Corps to betray Al. No Psi Cop would be as stupid as Brett. John Trakker would never have ignored Hengs advice, not the way Brett had ignored him.

  Brett was playing his part well, though, running so hard that Al had trouble keeping upas if Brett really didnt want to get caught.

  As he ran, Al tried to drop distracting glyphs: Scooters about to cross the road, Grins stepping out of the shadows, ladders falling on their pursuers. He couldnt be sure if they were doing any goodit was hard to form the images while concentrating on running. But he sensed that Brett and he were pulling ahead.

  Brett sensed it, too, because as they came to the corner of one of the dorms, he suddenly changed course, ducking down stairs that went to the lower, back side of the building. From their hiding place, Brett glyphed an illusion that had them still running, and despite his suspicion, Al joined him.

  It worked. Azmun and the others whizzed past.

  Ha, Brett said. Now

  But Al pheard something Brett didntthe other three pursuers coming close behind. And Brett didnt notice Al slipping into a recessed doorway.

  There, under cover, Al steeled himself, then closed his eyes tightly, calling up an image of Bretts face. He imagined himself as Brett In his mind, he merged his own face and Bretts into one, then changed Bretts into his.

  It wasnt easy, and he didnt think it was working, until he suddenly heard Milla shout, Hey! Weve got Al!

  To clinch it, he blew sparks in Bretts mindnot a nice thing to do, but then, Brett was a traitor. So instead of running, Brett just stood there stupidly, long enough for them to catch him.

  Then Al bolted, feeling their confusion paralyze them as they suddenly saw two Als.

  They were all behind him now. No one stood between him and the statue of the Grabber. All he had to do was run, and he could run faster than any of them except Brett.

  But as he reached the statue, he slowed uncertainly. Standing nearby, looking up at it, was the normal he had noticed earlier, in the EarthForce uniform. As Al approached, the man turned his gaze from the statue to him. There was something very unpleasant about that gazethe mans eyes were the color of pencil lead, his face very pale. When he saw Al, he seemed to not like what he saw. But when he spoke, his tone was mildly friendly.

  A little out of breath, young man?

  Yessir.

  You look like the devils chasing you.

  Yessir.

  Some kind of game, I hope?

  Yessircops and blips.

  Oh, very goodthats one of the approved games, yes?

  Yessir.

  Is this statue your goal?

  Yessir.

  Better touch it, then.

  Al hesitated another instant, then did so.

  The uniformed man looked up at the statue again. It portrayed a man, leaping, with outstretched arms, a look of noble determination on his face.

  Tell me about this statue.

  Its the GrI mean, its William Karges. He was the bodyguard foruhPresident Robinson. Nobody knew he was a teep, but one day he pheardI mean heard with his mindsomeone who wanted to kill the president, an he got shot warning her. Nobody liked teepsI mean telepathsback then, and they werent supposed to have jobs or rights or anything. But because of what Mr. Karges did, President Robinson made Psi Corps, to reward us, so teeps would have a place they could be safe and productive.

  The man smiled gently. They taught you that in school?

  Yessir. And we watch the movie every Birthday.

  Did they also teach you that Washington chopped down the cherry tree?

  Sir?

  Never mind. Here come your friends. Whats your name, son?

  Alfred Bester, sir.

  He nodded, then returned his gaze to the approaching mob of children, led by Brett. Al could feel the anger shimming from all of them. He had expected Brett to be angry, but why the rest?

  Looks like he won, the normal remarked. Better congratulate him.

  Brett hesitated an instant. Al could tell that, if the normal werent around, they would all be shouting at him now. But no telepath was ever allowed to fight with another telepath around normals. Never.

  So Brett held out his hand. Good goin, he mumbled. But as their hands touched, he cast something very different. Were gonna get you, Alfie, you slug .

  That was bad, but it wasnt the worst thing. For a second, Al felt an intense flash of anger, hatred even. And it wasnt coming from anyone in his cadre.

  It was coming from the normal.

  * * *

  chapter 2

  « » Teacher Hua was explaining that the Earth Alliance had been founded so there could never be a World War IV, and had just asked a question about the importance of the Psi Corps in the Alliance, when three Grins entered the room. Al knew with cold and immediate dread that they had come for him.

  Despite their nickname, they werent grinning. Their masks were smooth plastic, with no visible openings for eyes, nose, or mouthbut like vid or AI units, they could be used to display images. The icons were usually simplea bright yellow grin appeared when they brought awards, medals, or presents; a threatening, downturned mouth when they came to correct or punish.

  It seems someone has been bad, Teacher Hua said, noting the expressions on the faces of the three silent, grey-robed figures. Now who in my class might have been bad? Who has brought shame upon the Corps?

  Al sensed a mild wave of panic rippling around him. Most everyone in the room had been bad, of course, at one time or the otherbut bad enough for this? The Grins gave no clue as to who they might have come forthey just stood there, while Teacher Hua surveyed the room with grim speculation.

  Al glanced at Brett, whose triumphant expression struck him like a snake. Brett had told. The Grins were after him. Knees shaking a little, Al rose from his seat.

  Alfred Bester, Teacher Hua said, softly. And what do you think you might have done wrong, Mr. Bester?

  II dont know, sir. I mean Im not sure. But I think it was me.

  In response to that, the three figures rustled toward him, hands lifting. As one, they stripped off their black gloves. The sight was worse, far worse, than seeing a nurse preparing a needle to take blood. His scalp tingled with a rush of terror.

  They laid their hands on him, and he tried not to block, he really did, but it was like trying not to blink when someone swung at your face. And so it hurt even more as they tunneled into his mind, found his sins, dragged them out in bright glyphs, mindcasting them for everyone to see.

  When they finally let him go, he came to himself again, gasping, sweat pouring down his face. The whole class had witnessed his misery.

  They had to help him up because he was trembling too violently to walk. Tears welled behind his eyes, but he would not cry, could not, not on top of everything else.

  Their gloves were still off. They werent done yet.

  They took him, alone, to where he had done it, where the others had caught Brett. They stood him in the very spot, in the door frame, and stepped back to regard him. Their masks were unadorned nowblank ovals of plastic.

  What did you do? The Grins had strange voices, inflectionless, like an Artificial Intelligence. Some thought thats exactly what they were, robots, though robots were supposed to be illegal.

  I I betrayed Brett.

  A sharp stab into his mind. You dont believe that. Why?

  He was playing dumb. He was going to get us caught. I wanted to win the game.

  You betrayed a member of the Corps. You cannot winnot at that cost.

  We were pretending to be Blips. Blips betray each other.

  They crowded nearer, and one pointed an ungloved hand at him. That is a lie. The others were pretending you two were rogues. You were not. You imagined yourself a Psi Cop, chased by rogues.

  But it runs deeper than that, Mr. Bester. No matter what any of you were pretending, you are all members of the Corps. Whatever you pretend in
the course of constructive!or unconstructive play, Brett is your brother. You share the same mother and father. Do you understand?

  Yessir, Al replied, bowing his head. The Corps is mother. The Corps is father.

  You cant forget that Brett is your brother without forgetting that the Corps is your mother and your father. Do you understand?

  Yessir.

  You wont forget.

  It wasnt a question, but a promise. The three stepped forward and laid hands on him again, one behind him and one to each side.

  For an instant, nothing happened, and then, suddenly, the world grew brighter.

  The steps where Brett had hidden suddenly came alive, each grain in the stone became a universe of significance. The buildings, the lawn, the treesall burned into his mind with terrifying, hyper-real clarity. Shame shaped the light; fear framed the image, permeated it.

  The Grins lowered their hands. They put their gloves on and led him back to class.

  The trek from the classroom door to his seat was one of the longest he had ever taken. He felt like the corpse of a cat they had once found. It had somehow fallen from one of the buildings. Splattered, guts hanging out, fascinating because it was so horrible.

  He avoided the questioning glances of the students as the subject switched to math, kept his head down, trying to pretend nothing had happened. It was hard; the image of the place where he betrayed Brett lingered in his mind, like an afterimage of the sun on retinas. But he made it through the day and trudged back to the cadre house, wishing he didnt share a room with Brett.

  At the meal in the common room, everyone avoided him. Probably worried that if they spoke to him the Grins would come for them next. When it was time for John Trakker, Psi Cop , he had no enthusiasm for watching it and quietly slipped off, seeking solitude.

  He almost bumped into Ms. Chastain. The tall, thin brunette wore a dark brown skirt and turquoise blouse. She looked down at him over the tip of her rather pointy nose. He liked Ms. Chastain maybe not as much as he liked Mr. King, who had been his house father at 3-5, but that might just be because he missed Mr. King.

  Al, did you have a bad day? You always watch John Trakker .

  He nodded, sullenly.

  She reached down and lifted his chin with her fingers. Grins came for you, didnt they?

  Yes, maam.

  Did you deserve it?

  Yes, maam.

  Well. She seemed to study him for a moment. I was just going to have some tea in the kitchen. Would you care to join me? Her voice was kind.

  Yes, maam.

  May I tell you a story, Al? Ms. Chastain sipped her lemon tea and nudged the plate of gingersnaps toward him. He took one.

  Yes, please.

  This is about my grandmother. She was a telepath, like me. Not as strong as meshe was maybe a P3 at best, though she was never rated.

  What do you mean? Everyone is rated, cept maybe Bli He broke off, suddenly embarrassed.

  But Ms. Chastain smiled gently. No, Al, she wasnt a Blip. She never got to join Psi Corps, you see. She was born in 2035. She never registered because she lived in New Zealand, and they didnt require it thereit was before universal registration. She was a good person, though. She didnt try to use her abilities for personal gain, but worked with the Catholic church, helping the needy.

  But one day, when my mother was just five years old, some normals came to the church and they burned it. And they took all of the priests who were teeps, and they took my grandmother, and they tied heavy weights on all of them and dropped them in the ocean. My mother was there, but she was hiding, and from where she was, she felt my grandmother drown.

  She kept that feeling in her heart, and when I got old enough, she passed it on to me. It was awful, Alfred, but I know why she did it. She did it to remind me, always, that we arent like normal people. Even if we try to pretend we are, the normals will remind us. She smiled, and then abruptly laid her hand on his and switched to casting

  Were special, Al, all of us. The normals know it, and they hate us for it. And there are so many more of them than there are of us, so many. If we dont stand together, all of us if we arent stronger and smarter and better than them theyll do it again, like they did to my grandmother .

  So when you think youve been treated harshly, remember that.

  Its to make you strong and good, to get you ready for the challenges that come later. Because even though many normals hate us, its still our job to protect them, too. From themselves, from enemies out in the stars. And you, Alyoure really strong you test P12, and if you train well you can live up to that potential. You will have to be more responsible than most. Youll look back one day and understand everything that happened to you. Youll see that it was for the greater good. Do you understand?

  He managed a little smile. Yes .

  Good. How about another cookie?

  That night, in his nightmares, he saw the steps again, and watched himself as he betrayed Brett. But when he woke up, heart pounding, he remembered Ms. Chastains words. I have to be better than I am , he thought to himself. I have to be the best, and I have to do it right .

  But he had a hard time getting back to sleep. After a while he rose and went to the window.

  Their room was on the third floor, faced away from most of the city lights of Geneva, and he had a good view of the stars. He started picking out the ones he knew, trying to remember what he had heard about them, which were the homes of men. And in the corners of his eyeswhere the stars were strangely brightesthe thought he saw the faces.

  When he focused on them, they always went away, so he could never see them directly. He knew the woman had dark red hair, and the man had black hair. They were the faces of the Corps, the mother and father. Sometimes, when he was alone, he would talk to them, ask them questions, but they never answered. He heard their voices sometimes, when he was asleep, but when he woke up he was never sure what they had said. Only that they loved him.

  But of course they did. They were the Corps.

  Sometimes he wondered what he would see if a Grin took off its mask. Would he see those faces, but clearly? Where were they, if not behind the Grins?

  Maybe in the big buildings. Maybe the director was his mother.

  A soft rustling behind him interrupted his thoughts.

  You okay, Alfie?

  It was Brett.

  Yeah.

  Alfie Look, Im sorry. I didnt know it would be so bad. The way you looked when they brought you backIm sorry I told.

  No, Al replied. No, you did right. I shouldnt have done that to you.

  There followed an awkward pause. I just wanted you to know, Brett finished. Then he brightened. Anyway, Birthday coming up. What do you think youll get this year?

  I dont know. I dont really want anything.

  I do. I hope I get a John Trakker PPG. Wouldnt that be cool?

  Yeah. He tried on a smile. We better get some sleep. Sleepy boys are no good to the Corps.

  Yeah. Good night, Alfie.

  By the time it came, Al was excited about Birthday, though not for the same reason as Brett. It was Birthday, naturally, when new kids joined the cadre. Al had mixed feelings about itthings had been easier when the cadre was smallerbut there was always the hope that someone really neat would join. Maybe a girl who would like him.

  He knew he really wasnt supposed to like girls, but he did, and he couldnt help it. The problem was getting them to like you back. And hiding the fact that you liked them from the others

  He still liked Milla, but had sort of given up on her.

  Anyway, Birthday was always a lot of fun, and there wasnt any schoolwork on Birthday.

  Birthday started at seven, but everyone was up well before that, eagerly awaiting the opening of the common-room doors. When they finally swung wide, there was whooping and cheering at the decorations that festooned the room, especially the pinatas. Al got to break one of thoseit was easy, even blindfolded, because everyone glyphed to you where it was. After that, some kid
s from another cadrean older one, from the 11-13 housecame in and did a play for them. It was a story they all knew, from one of their world readers, but it was still fun to see it acted out.

  There were only four new kids, a girl and three boys. The girl was pretty, with dark hair and green eyes. Brett was already talking to her, though, as they watched the play.

  They arent saying anything, she noted.

  They wont, Brett said. You have to phear.

  She shut her eyes. I can almost hear

  Phear, Brett corrected.

  Ive never met another mind reader until a few days ago, she said, softlyapologetically.

  Its okay. We call ourselves teeps, though. Link hands with me and Alfie. Well help you. Alfie?

  She looked at him with her mossy eyes, and when he took her hand, his face felt funny. Warm.

  Al focused on the play. The story was from the Central African Block, he remembered, from the Wayo tribe, or something like that. There were two main characters, Hornbill and the Elder, and besides them, three villagersthough the audience was supposed to play villagers, too.

  Hornbill was lying down. The actors wore little in the way of costumes, instead glyphing their appearances. Hornbill was a bird with a very small beak.

  Hornbill: I dont feel like going to a funeral today. Its such a long business, with the procession and all. I would much rather lie in my hammock and take a nap .

  Village: LAZY HORNBILL! HE DOESNT CARE ABOUT THE VILLAGE !

  HE dont do nothin for us

  ONLY what HIS

  CARES he PEOPLE !

  ABOUT should

  HIMSELF is selfish!

  Elder: Shame !

  Hornbill: No, no, you go ahead .

  Village: WE ARE YOUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS! DO RIGHT BY US!

  mother father obey

  kith kin respect

  (Glyph of the calendar flipping, days passing.)

  Hornbill: Ah, no, my own son has died! Surely the people of the village will come to help me bury him !

  Village:

 

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