Elder: You have never helped in a funeral. Now no one will help you !
Hornbill: But I dont even know where the graveyard is !
Village: BECAUSE YOU NEVER CARED BEFORE !
Elder: Find it yourself, lazy Hornbill !
(The actor mimed the hornbill, carrying his sons coffin on his back, a heavy burden, searching for the graveyard. Glyphs of calendars flipping, days, months, years passing. Putrid ooze leaking out of the coffin as it gradually transformed into the hornbills cumbersome beak.)
Hornbill: Where is the graveyard? Where is the graveyard?
But the words were a cry, the sound of the hornbills call, repeated forever as he paid for his sin. The sin of standing apart from the village, the sin of selfishness.
The play ended, and they clapped. The older kids took a bow.
At that moment, four Grins walked in through the open door.
For a moment, Al felt a cold spot form in the pit of his belly, but then he saw that this time, the robed figures were grinning, huge happy smiles, and each carried a large sack. It was time for presents!
Brett got his PPGnot a real one, of course, but it looked real and whined like one warming up. Al got a book on John Carter, the founder of the Mars colony, and they all got plastic Psi Corps badges. After that there was cake and cookies, and pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey with half the cadre trying to help the blindfolded player and the other half trying to hinder him.
For supper they had a picnic on the lawn and watched the stars come out in the evening sky, while Ms. Chastain played the auto-harp and sang from the cadre songbook.
Al was enjoying himself. Everything seemed right. The Grins had brought him a present, so his own sin must have been forgiven. He wasnt going to be like Hombill, cursed forever.
Maybe it was time to try the tree again. He walked toward it, humming Happy Birthday to Us .
At the base of the oak, he noticed he was being followed. It was the new girl.
Hi, he said. So whats your name?
Hi. she answered. My name is Julia. She pronounced it hoo-lee-yah .
My name is Al.
I thought it was Al-fee.
Thats what they call me. I like Al better.
Okay. I just wanted to thank you for helping me with the play.
He nodded, unable to meet her green eyes. S okay.
And then she just stood there, smiling, and he was supposed to think of something to say. But he couldnt. And in a minute she would get bored and leave.
Watch this! he said, and without waiting for a response, he ran over to the tree and started to climb it. He got to the swing-around branch and kept going. He felt strong, like he could do anything. Higher, and he found himself under the branch again.
He didnt look down this time, but he imagined Julia, watching him as he climbed higher and higher. He steadied himself, bent his knees, and jumped as high as he could. His hands came together
And caught around the branch. Grunting, grinning, he pulled himself up and over the branch, tempted to shout to the others, to let them see that he had done it. He looked down to see how Julia was taking it.
She wasnt there. She was walking off, hand in hand with Brett.
His feeling of triumph evaporated like rubbing alcohol.
Whats the use , he thought. That was it. He was giving up on girls. What did they know? Here he had climbed the tree for her, risked his life
And he was just realizing how much farther down it was from here. Birthday stank.
He awoke with a hand over his mouth and a Grin staring down at him. He tried to scream, but the hand and a fierce psi command stopped him. He breathed hard, the chemical scent of the glove in his nose.
The Grin was blank, expressionlessno smile, no frown. When his breathing slowed, it motioned him to silence, removed the hand from his mouth, and handed him a robe.
Follow , it commanded.
They moved through the empty streets of Teeptown like will-o-the-wisps, passing familiar places made strange by the hour.
Teeptown was just that, a small town. It had a Commona center with shops and suchand lots of quads, each with their own, smaller commons. Al really only knew Alpha Quad. When he was a baby, of course, he had lived in the crèche, in the hospital quad, but he didnt remember that. He got his psi earlyagain, before he could rememberand so he had never lived in the Basement, but had gone straight to the first cadre house. Though he had twice changed houses as he got older, they were all in Alpha quad.
Now he and the Grin moved out of that familiar quarter and into the quad with the Minor Academy. Off thatfarther rightwas the Major Academy; Al had never had the nerve to go that far afield, but he had wandered the grounds of the Minor, watching the older kids, trying to figure it out. He still wasnt clear exactly how it was put together, though he heard cadres got broken up there, and people were reassigned to schools. That didnt sound like much fun, but nobody went to the Minor Academy until they were twelve or so, so he had a while before he had to worry about it.
Once they had passed through the academy grounds, he found himself in territory he really didnt know. There was a sort of invisible line, past the stanchion field, that kids knew they werent supposed to cross, and for the most part, they didnt. There were apartments for the married couples, and for the grownups who ran Teeptownsome of them normals . And government buildings, he guessed.
The Grin led him on through the no-kids land. Al worried that it might be a trickthat the Grins mask would change to a frown, and he would be chastised, suddenly, for crossing the unseen demarcation.
But through his fear, he began to feel a new sort of excitement. Maybe Im going to see the mother and father , he thought. The faces from my dreams .
The Grin took him into a large building, through winding corridors of dull pearl, to a large office of nearly the same shadeor which probably would be, if the lights were turned up. Tonight, they were very dim. The Grin ushered him through the door and left, closing the portal behind him. Al was left standing uncertainly in the near darkness.
Come forward, Alfred Bester.
There was someone behind the big desk. He noticed, as his eyes adjusted, that the room had many shelves, filled with paper booksand not a whole lot else. No pictures, like the painting Ms. Chastain had in her office, nothing like that. Books, and walls, and a desk.
And behind the desk was the oldest man Al had ever seen. His hair was cut so close to his head, the only way Al knew he wasnt bald was because it was whiter than milk, whereas the rest of his head was like a brown paper bag that had been crumpled, smoothed, crumpled again, smoothed again, then stretched tight over a skull. Al found himself wishing that he could touch that face, to see what it would feel like. Would it be hard, like leather or delicate, like tissue paper?
Do you know who I am, Mr. Bester?
No, sir.
My name is Kevin Vacit. I am the director of Psi Corps.
The director . Pleased to meet you, sir. The Corps is mother. The Corps is father.
Indeed. And it seems that mother and father had to discipline you, a few days ago.
Yessir. The vague fear in his chest tightened.
Come closer.
Al stepped even closer, and suddenly he saw the directors eyes, cold gems, colorless. Likelike he didnt know what.
And he felt a shadow go through his mind. It wasnt like a scan, not even a light one. He wasnt even sure it was real.
But the director smiled. You felt something?
Yessir.
Interesting. Most dont.
Al waited for the director to explain what it was that most people didnt notice, but instead the old man leaned forward and clasped his hands together. Listen to me, Alfred, he said, his voice rather low and scratchy, but still perfectly intelligible. What do you want to be?
That was easy. I want to be a Psi Cop, sir.
Why?
That was harder, and Al thought about it for an instant. He had heard that the director of Psi Corps was always supposed to be
a normal, appointed by the EA senate. So he might be able to get away with lying
No. He had already shamed the Corps once, he would not do it again.
I know Im supposed to want to be a Psi Cop so I can serve and defend, and all of that. And I want to do all that, I really do, but
Its not the real reason.
No, sir. Its because to be a Psi Cop you have to be the best. The very best.
And you want people to know you are the best.
Yes, sir.
You know thats the wrong answer, dont you, Alfred?
Yessir.
The old man nodded thoughtfully. Everyone has different strengths, you know. No one is better than anyone else. A good business telepath, a good military telepathas long as you perform to the best of your abilities, its all the same.
Al could think of no reply, so he said nothing.
You dont believe that, do you? the director asked.
I no, sir.
Well.
The silence stretched so long and thin, Al was afraid something would break. Then the old man sighed. Dont tell anyone you came to see me, Alfred. You can return to your bed now. He made a sign, and the door opened again. The Grin was waiting for him.
Sir? Al asked, as the masked person moved to lead him away.
Yes?
Will I get to be a Psi Cop?
That remains to be seen, Mr. Bester. But He paused. Do not think that being the best will make you happy. The very qualities that allow the one, preclude the other.
I dont understand, sir.
I know. Youre too young. When you do understand, it will be too late, wont it? His face wrinkled up, oddly. Its been a pleasure meeting you, Alfred. I thinkyes, in a way I think you would have made your parents proud.
My parents, sir? You mean the Corps?
The ancient face smoothed out again. I mean your parents, your mother and your father.
My mother and father are the Corps, sir.
Quite right He sighed. And I knew them all.
Sir?
Never mind me, Mr. Bester. I am an old man, and my mind wanders. In fact, I dont expect well meet againIm going away soon, and someone else will become director in my place. The Corps is your mother and father, as you said. And the Corps is proud of you. Thats all I meant.
But it wasnt, and Al knew it. For just an instant, he thought he had seen a womans face the womans face
But he retreated from that thought. If anyone suspected he had read the directors mind, even accidentally, there was no telling what would happen to him.
One other thing, Alfred.
Als throat tightened. Had he been caught?
Sir?
Things maychangeafter Im gone. Remember who you are. Remember how you were raised. Its important. The Corps is important. It has a purpose more important than anyone can possibly dream. Can you remember that?
Of course, sir.
Remember this, too, then. Watch for the Shadows. Watch, and beware . When the director said Shadows , something seemed to form in Als brain, an image, kind of like a spider. Then it sank into something and was gone.
Good night, Alfred. And good-bye.
* * *
chapter 3
« » Hey, Alfie, Brett called from across the common room. What do you think the Grins really are?
Al looked up from his book toward the little knot of kids around the table. He had been trying to tune their conversation out.
What? How should I know?
Brett shrugged and Julia giggled.
Whats funny?
Julia seemed to sober, but it was Milla that said, Because youre kind of like a Grin, Alfie. Nobody can ever tell whats up with you.
Al sighed and laid his book down. He decided to ignore the comment. First of all, theyre called monitors , not Grins
Vidflash! Brett snorted. We all know what theyre called. Thats not the question.
Well, its not for us to wonder about who they are, Al said. Theyre Corps, and theyre here to help us. Thats all that matters.
See what I mean? Milla said.
Okay. What do you think they are? Al responded, drawing himself up. At twelve, he was still the shortest boy in the room, and shorter than most of the girls, but he knew some of the others still found him physically intimidating. He had given some of them reason to.
Robots, Julia opined.
Humaniform robots are illegal. The Corps wouldnt have robots.
Thats what I say, Brett agreed. Besides, who ever heard of a telepathic AI? So what are they?
Al considered them all for a moment, then lowered his voice. I think theyre brain-wiped criminals.
Huh?
Rogues who couldnt be reeducated. Students that asked too many of the wrong questions. They wipe their brains and program them to do what they do.
Julia shuddered. You really think so?
What I think is that we shouldnt be talking about it, Al responded. Its not our business. If the Corps wants us to know what they are, theyll tell us.
Maybe were supposed to figure out what they are. Maybe its another testdid you ever consider that?
There had been a lot of tests lately, with Minor Academy admissions coming up.
I think I know a test when I see one. Unlike some of you.
Julia and Azmun paled. They knew who he was talking about.
That wasnt nice, Alfie, Brett said. You dont have to be such an ass about things.
Like any of you are nice to me , Al thought. Like any of you care how I feel . But he kept it blocked and locked. He wouldnt give them the satisfaction of knowing that they could hurt him. After all, they were just jealous. Even Brett couldnt outdo him on the testsexcept in some of the normal stuff, like running, and then only just barely.
He just shrugged, knowing that would annoy them more than any verbal response.
The final tests started tomorrow. Those who passed would move to the Minor Academy. He would be one of them, and he would finally be where he ought to be. In the Minor Academy people would appreciate him. He wouldnt let Brett and the rest distract him from that goal. From finally escaping them.
Take a few minutes to get ready, Alfred. Simon, Teacher Roberts said, with an absent air. He made a few marks on his notepad.
Al opened his envelope and glanced at the photograph inside. It depicted a brick-red groundcar, a Cortez JumpPoint. He closed his eyes, held the image for a moment to make sure he had it, then sealed the envelope and laid it on the desk in front of him. Ten meters away, across the room, Simon did the same. Al took a moment to size Simon up. He was the same age, twelve, but from a different cadre. Fox-faced, auburn hair to match.
Al closed his eyes again and took deep, slow breaths as he shut the world down. The telepathic white noise was the first to go, that sort of distant ocean sound produced by the millions of minds in the Greater Geneva area. Layered above that were the hundreds of thoughts near enough to be half intelligiblea word here, a few brushstrokes from a landscape there, traces of mood like aromas, some sharp, some subtle.
Gone. Leaving only the nearest thoughts, investing themselves in his brain almost with the ease of his own thoughts. He remembered himself as a child, wondering, Am I really thinking that, or is it someone else?
It was the most dangerous confusion a telepath could face.
Deep slow breath in, deep slow breath out. The voices going out like stars at sunrise, till only one was leftSimons. You couldnt really see a mind, of course, but to Al, Simons appeared for the moment as a hard black sphere, encased by larger, silver-translucent balls, nested within one another.
Al had never really imagined this required any sort of explanation, but Teacher Roberts had talked about it often enough. He liked explaining things that didnt seem to need explanations.
Basically, were just fancy monkeys, hed told them, the first day of class. Our ancestors didnt evolve like wolves, or horses, or whales, specializing their digits into claws or hooves or flippers. Nope, evolution left us with the
same feeble five digits that our reptilian ancestors had. General, not specialized. All of the primates followed that patternnever committing to specialization, always trying to stay the jacks-of-all-trades.
The only real change from the lizard hand to the monkey hand was opposability, the ability to graspand we needed that, running around in treetops. The other thing we needed were eyes in the front of our heads, bifocal, so we could triangulate, see depth be able to actually catch that next branch when we jumped at it
But that turned out to be a big change, after all. Our bifocal eyes needed all this new hardware to run. As a result, primate brains got bigger. Sight got better, hand-to-eye coordination got better, and the other senses suffered, but so what? Because with those big brains came unexpected benefits.
For sixty million years or so, primate brains have been built around visionvision and manipulation of our generalized, lizard hands. As a consequence, we learned to express ourselves with pictures first. Words came later.
Telepathy is a very new evolutionary step, and evolution always has to work with what its given. Birds didnt just grow wingstheir forelimbs were modified. Likewise, we do telepathy with those same old monkey brains, and the primary modality is still visual. So we see the unseeable, picture the unpicturable.
Think about dreaming. Dreaming is caused by random surges in neuroelectricity. These jolts go through the brain and release images; our brains then try to organize these images, make sense of them, release or build more images to fill in the gaps. When we awaken, we try to assign linear, logical meaning to them. We dont see random surges of electricity jolting into our brainswe see ourselves, sitting in class in our underwear or running in slow motion from angry Grins.
When a rogue tries to fry your brain with a mindblast, you wont see an inchoate, deadly force, or a pattern of electrochemical reactions triggered in your neural net. Youll see a sword coming to cut your head in two, a car about to run you down, the sky falling. Thats fine, because thats how we work, we fancy monkeys. The trick is to not get confused, and thats a big deal. We relate to things we dont know in terms of things we do knowby analogy. If youve never seen a snake, but you do know worms, you will see the snake and think, Aha! Its like a big worm. But if you make the mistake of thinking that a cobra is an earthworm, you make a very foolishand terminalmistake. If you actually think that a mindblast is a swordwell, I can take you to see some people who made that very mistake. You can take turns spoonfeeding them and changing their diapers.
Babylon 5 11 - Psi Corps 02 - Deadly Relations - Bester Ascendant (Keyes, Gregory) Page 3