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

by Bester Ascendant (Keyes, Gregory)

Al glanced briefly at his standard issue brown outdoor pants, gold shirt, and light academy jacket.

  Sure, I have a change.

  No, I meanyou know, not issue?

  Why shouldnt I wear issue? Al asked, noticing, suddenly, that none of the rest of them were.

  In case we run into normals, Milla said, very simply.

  Al shrugged. What if we do? Im not ashamed of the Corps.

  Its not that , Brett said. Its just betterI mean, you can never tell what normals will do.

  Hey, Al said, with a rare burst of old pride. Were Cadre Prime. Let them do their worst.

  The moment he said it, it rang wrong, awkward, and he was sorry hed said it. But Bretts eyes widened, and he said, Well, yeah! Darn right! I forgot, weve got the winner of the Karges award with us. With you, we can handle anything.

  Come on, Al, you sit by me, Julia said, as they went through the sliding door and onto the train.

  The first leg of the hike was a breeze, though Al found he had to pace himself down so the others could keep up. As a result, he found himself springing up slopes, then waiting for the others. It was clear that, even physically, he trained harder than they did.

  As the day wore on, a little of the awkwardness wore off. After all, they had grown up together, even if he hadnt seen them a lot lately. They were cadre. They had faced the Grins together. He was used to them.

  The same couldnt be said for the other academy students. Oh, some were from the secundus or tertius cadres, but even they had grown up mostly as normals or in the Basement. Most of them almost all of those in his classeswere actually laters, hadnt gotten their psi until they were twelve or older. He hadnt really tried to make friends with most of them; they thought he was weird, he could tell, or were maybe even a little afraid of him. That was probably for the bestit left him more time to train, to better prepare himself for the Major Academy.

  The hike was pleasant. Wildflowers spangled the sunlit meadows and upland pastures, and the forest was an evergreen cathedral. Al had rarely been in the woodsa few picnics and field trips when they had been kids, not once since entering the Minor Academy. It was something he kept meaning to do, but never quite felt he had the time for.

  They were taking a rest against an old stone wallfor a moment silent, perhaps in appreciation of the daywhen they heard voices coming up the trail behind them. Al could sense weak, undisciplined mindsnormals, of course. He started to shut them out, then out of curiosity he didnt. He hadnt had much contact with normals.

  They came over the hill soon enough. Five young men, maybe a few years older than he. Two were tall and lanky, enough alike that they might be brothers. One was no taller than Al, but a good deal thicker, almost bulldoglike, with a single, long, black eyebrow. The other two were of middle build, a redhead and a blond. They were chattering cheerfully about something in French, and briefly acknowledged the telepaths with almost imperceptible nods as they passed.

  All but one, Bulldog-boy, whose gaze, tracking with interest over the girls, suddenly fastened on Al.

  Qest-ce que cest que ça? he asked, rather abruptly. He was pointing at Als academy clothing. Eh? He jabbed the finger as if spearing something. Whats the matter, you? Cant read my mind in French?

  His friends had turned now. Viens, Antoine, one of the lanky ones said.

  No, no, Antoine snapped, waving them back. For so long I have wanted to meet one of these little prodigies. Are all of you mindscrewers, or do you just carry this one as a pet? he asked Brett and the others.

  Al tightened his lips and said nothing, but Brett answered him in French. Look, fellows, were just on a hike. We dont want any trouble.

  Trouble? Are you saying were trouble?

  No. I didnt say that.

  Just go on your way, Al advised.

  Oh, is that an order, Captain Mindscrewer?

  Its a suggestion, Al said. He noticed his knees felt funny. The whole scene had become a little unreal, as if the light had abruptly changed. His heart was beating faster. Almost without thinking, he flexed his knees.

  Oh, a suggestion. Well, I have a couple of those myself, Bulldog-boy said. I suggest that you stay in your kennels back in Geneva, and not wander up here where decent folk might have to see you. I suggest you stay out of my damned mind.

  Psi Corps regulations forbid unauthorized scans, Al pointed out. He paused a beat, and then was surprised to hear himself continue. Besides, I wouldnt read your mind any more than I would step in dogshit on purpose.

  Bulldog-boyAntoinegrinned, revealing teeth like piano ivories. Aw, thats cute. P si-Ko made a joke. He pronounced the p .

  Julia attempted a smile. Come on, guys

  Hey, boys, the p slut can talk. What else can you do, p slut?

  Al gave the boy a curious look, reached out, and thumped him on the nose.

  What happened next was a blur. Al expected the boy to attack himhe had been working up to that anyway, that was clear. He had expected to know where the blow was coming from, like when he did a karate or fencing drill with a weaker teep.

  But this wasnt a drill, and Antoine didnt think at all about what he did nexta javelin of pure rage speared Al in the brain, blinding his mind, and sledgehammer fists were just an instant behind, slamming into Al without focus, but with amazing violence. He pulled his arms up reflexively, so his forearms took most of the percussion meant for his head, but he still reeled back, was still backpedaling when his opponents head butted into him and slammed him into a tree. Then Antoine was on top of him, battering down with those hamlike fists

  And then he was off, howling and gasping for air. Al blinked his eyes open to see Brett standing by, fists balled, radiating a cold determination.

  Leave, Brett said.

  Bulldog-boys friends had him now. Cmon, Antoine, one of the tall ones said. He isnt worth it. Hell get you arrested, and then what?

  Antoine glowered and came slowly to his feet. Al managed to climb shakily to his own. His breath was choppy, and he tried to slow it, as he had been taught.

  Antoine grimaced a terrible, smilelike expression. Bet you dont think youre so hot now, do you, mindscrewer? If it hadnt been for your friend, Id have pounded you senseless, eh?

  Al reached out with his psi. He could feel the hot, stupid little mind. He could do almost anything with it. Push it any way he wanted. He could give Antoine a seizure, he could fill his mind with nightmare, he could rip his thoughts to

  But no, that was against the rulesit would be betraying the Corps. So he had to watch as the boys hiked on, Antoine sneering back at him until they were out of sight. He could phear their coarse laughter well after he couldnt hear it anymore.

  * * *

  chapter 2

  « » Dont let it get to you, Al, Julia soothed. Al watched new wood starting to scorch on the campfire, unconsoled. How could a normal have beaten him? In front of Julia, in front of everyone?

  If he had planned to humiliate himself, he couldnt have done a better job.

  I felt his mind, she went on. He was like an animal.

  Yes, Al replied, he was. A dumb animal. One I should have beaten.

  Hey, Brett interjected, bullfighters have to be trained to fight bulls. We havent had much practice against normals.

  You beat him.

  I blindsided him. And I wasnt trying to beat him, just get him off of you. Come on, cheer up. Youll know better next time.

  I could have mindblasted him in a second, Milla grumbled. We could have taken them all. Whats the point of having superior brains if we cant use them?

  Because that would be selfish, Al muttered. Were supposed to protect and serve, not use our powers to satisfy our own needs.

  You believe that?

  Al looked up at her, startled. Not so much that she had thought it, but that she had said it Yes, he replied.

  Were supposed to protect and serve guys like Antoine? Give me a break.

  Look it up, Al said. Its in the handbook.

  Normals wrote the handbook, Al.


  The Corps wrote the handbook. The rules are good. I just screwed up , he thought. I could have taken him. Next time He sighed. He had already replayed the fight in his head a hundred times. It wasnt helping. What stayed with him was the sick feeling of fear, the awful realization that there was a real difference between facing someone on the dojo floor and facing someone who really wanted to hurt you. The physical blows hadnt really damaged himhe doubted that he would even bruise. But the memory of his fear was like a dead star in his belly, and everything in him was falling into it.

  He looked up at Brett. Anyway, thank you. He hated saying it.

  We have to hang together, Brett said. Cadre Prime.

  Al remembered his boast, earlier that day, about Cadre Prime being able to handle anything, and Bretts remark about how they must be invincible if they had Al Bester, winner of the Karges award, along with them.

  The dead star ate another bite, and Al suddenly felt queasy. Im going for a walk, he murmured. Ill be back soon.

  He wound his way up through the trees, skirting the edge of a twilight meadow, found a spot in the violet-brocaded field and lay on his back, watching a cloud skewered by twin contrails with dull eyes. It was vaguely heart-shaped, salmon bruised mauve by the shadow of the Earth crushing down upon it. For a moment he felt absolutely still, and there were no voices at all. He experienced an unexpected, melancholy peace, watching the sky fade. His body felt heavy, as if he were becoming stone, and as he petrified he could sense the ponderous, slow wheeling of the Earth through space.

  He had lost track of time, somewhat hypnotized by the f eeling, when he heard voices near, hushed ones, whispering. The sounds were too faint, but he knew from their surface thoughts that it was Brett and Julia. They were excited about something. Looking for him? Worried? He closed his eyes, trying to get them clearer, and suddenly

  Warm lips, pressing against his, and arms reaching around. A body, prickly-warm, slim, a joy in the arms, breath tickling against his neck

  He shut it out, blocked and locked, returning to a now artificial silence. Julia and Brett. Of course.

  The stars came out, and still he didnt move or relax his blocks. He did not want to feel, even for an instant, what he had just felt or what might follow. He waited until he was sure, as the air chilled, and his rock body lost even its Human warmth.

  Finally, tentatively, he opened again, blessedly to silence. Feeling sore and weary, he stood and made his way back toward camp.

  He stopped when he saw the firelight. They were all there, their faces picked out in fine detail, even at this distance, like a faraway painting by a Dutch master. They were smiling and laughing, and he could sense something emanating from them. He tightened his control, and suddenly knew beauty.

  He could never explain it to a normal. He could barely explain it to himself. He could sense the signature of each individual, but there was something more, a tapestry of thought and feeling they wove together, impossibly intricate and familiar. like the mants they had done as kids, but infinitely more complex, more practiced, and yet at the same time more natural. They were different, each of them, but they were also one in the thing they created together.

  And in all of those weaving lines, in the subtle word-and-image play, in the shared secrets and emotion, there was not a single empty space. They were full, complete, a living organism. There was no place or need for Al Bester.

  Its always going to be like this , he thought. Me, out here, in the dark. Sometimes I can look into a window, see people in love, see people with friends. But Ill always be out here .

  He also realized that it was okay. One had to be stronger out here. His allegiance to the Corps could remain untainted. How could he really protect and serve all humanity if he went in there, inside? If he loved anyoneif anyone loved himit would only serve to weaken him. If he were a part of their tapestry, of their song, their power to betray him would be almost infinite.

  But they were beautiful. He would protect themJulia, Milla yes, even Brett. He would protect all of them, all of his people. But to do that, he had to be what he had been tonight. Stone.

  Antoine couldnt have hurt stone. Julia couldnt have hurt stone.

  Im glad I feel this way. Im glad to admit its over.

  But he did have a question to ask.

  That must have been some walk, Julia said the next morning, as they packed up the camp. You didnt come in until we were all asleep.

  I was justthinking, Al told her. He took a deep breath. And wondering.

  About what?

  About why you asked me along on this trip.

  Because youre our friend, Al. Because we miss you.

  He paused. I dont think thats the truth. Wont you tell me the truth?

  She wouldnt meet his gaze. IAl, we were worried about you.

  Why?

  Your professors are worried about you. They dont think you have any friends. And you didnt stay in touch with us

  You didnt stay in touch with me , he corrected.

  Al, you never liked us. We never thought you did. We thought you were happy to be away from us. But the teachers worried, and

  and they asked you to do something with me. You bumped into me on purpose, didnt you?

  She nodded. Are you angry?

  No. It was the truthhe didnt feel angry at all. No, Im grateful. I used to worry about having friendseveryone else seems to. Sometimes I think it would be nice to have people to talk to He broke off, remembering watching them the night before, remembering also the stolen feel of Julias lips. Anyway, I dont care about that anymore. Im over it. And you can tell the teachers not to worry.

  Al

  Its okay, Julia. Thanks for asking me along. Ive learned a lot.

  He didnt speak anymore on the trip down the mountain, and after a while nobody really tried to speak to him. When they reached the train station at St. Gervais, he broke his silence to say that he would buy their tickets if they wanted to grab some lunch at the restaurant on the corner, and he would join them there. They accepted the offer; he knew they would talk, and Julia would tell them everything he had said. He didnt really care.

  The line was surprisingly long, but he supposed it was Sundaythere must be a lot of people returning from the country.

  Surrounded by normals, he felt a little dirty. He almost imagined that they smelled different, earthier. He caught an older woman in a black shirt buttoned to the top staring at his clothes, her distaste undisguised by what, a moment before, he had taken for pleasant features. A dark, rotund man, who had also taken note of him, wore a stonier expression. Al returned the old womans gaze, narrowed his eyes, then smiled faintly, nodding as if to himself. She reddened and looked away. He had not scanned hernot even touched her surface thoughtsbut he let her wonder about that, about what dirty little secret he might have uncovered.

  He found himself slightly cheered by this.

  He was three back in the line now, and the longhaired woman buying tickets turned and hurried off, preoccupied. She didnt see him at all, but he caught a vague whiff offear?

  He glanced after her. He knew her, he was certain, he just couldnt quite place the face. Something about the hair wasnt right, and the eyes.

  He felt a little catch in his throat, an acrid taste on his tongue. It was Lara Brazg. A rogue. A Blip.

  The raid had been in the UIN. He pictured those who had escaped, radiating outward, rats fleeing a sinking ship, searching for another place to hide.

  Brazg had been there after all, and gotten away. And now here she was, hurrying off to catch a train.

  He didnt hesitate for an instant. It all seemed so clear, what he should do. The next person was done, and he stepped up to the window.

  Five for Geneva, please, he said, and at the same time, lightly, glyphed the image of Brazg at the woman. She didnt seem to notice anything unusualprobably because Brazg had been there so recentlybut the information bounced right out of the ticket sellers surface thoughts. Paris. Brazgs ticket was for Par
is.

  And one for Paris, Al finished. He passed her his card. This would nearly clean out his meager allowance, but what better way to spend it?

  At the restaurant, he paused for an instant, wondering if he should tell them, but no. Brett, at least, might want to go along-or more likely would call the Corps. That didnt fit Als version of the immediate future. So he smiled and put the tickets on the table.

  We got you a sandwich, Julia said, a little too brightly.

  Thanks. Just let me go wash up.

  But he went straight past the washroom, hoping there was a rear door and finding it. He went out and jogged quickly back to the station. There, he used the few credits left in his chit to buy a black overshirt and pulled it on, hiding his academy garb. Then he was off to catch the train to Paris.

  He felt a peculiar humming in his blood, a sort of fierce joy that washed through his disappointments like a cold, cleansing stream.

  He was on the hunt

  * * *

  chapter 3

  « » Al watched the farmland of Bourgogne whip by, startled by the quality and quantity of green, intrigued by the small hamlets with their ancient churches, by the antique feel of the landscape. A hundred years agothree hundred years ago, if he had taken this same train ride, how different would it have been?

  It made him feel smaller. His own history began and ended with Teeptown. His biological parents had died in a terrorist bombing, and he had never known them. His earliest memories were of the crèche. For Al, Teeptown was like an album of memories; any route he took through it jogged constant reminders of his childhood and the lessons he had learned. He still flushed with shame when he passed the steps where hed betrayed Brettthat place haunted him. Crossing the sidewalk between the old cadre dorms and the Minor Academy never failed to remind him of that terrible and wonderful day when the Grins revealed themselves. The statue of William Karges held new significance each time he saw it, as did the parade ground, the quads. His personal story was a thread in the tapestry of Psi Corps history.