Hes in there, isnt he?
Nah. Or hes everywhere, I guess, depending on your religion.
My religion says hes alive, right in there, Al maintained, nodding his chin up behind them.
Whats your religion say about an afterlife? another of the men growled.
Tell him to come out, Al said. Tell him to come out, and I wont have to call in the choppers.
You dont want to do that. All kinds of political trouble there.
Yes, I know. In fact, I think if choppers come in, at least one faction here will open fire. That means the EA troops will move insomething theyve been looking for an excuse to do for a long time. Thats why I walked in here aloneI want to spare everyone that. Now, somebody here might take it into their head to do me harm. I can stop a few of you, maybe most of you, but in the end youll probably get me. I understand that. Im here because Im betting you have more sense than to do it, and because I think your cousin Jonathan has enough regard for his family and his people not to put them through it. He made a brave run. He almost beat me. But Im the best there is, and I won. Its time for him to acknowledge that.
Whats your name, Mr. Best-That-There-Is?
Alfred Bester.
Bester-That-There-Is, the speaker said. Okay. Ill go with you.
Mr. Stone?
Yep.
Dont do it, Johnny, another argued.
Nah, hes right. If theyd never caught on, that wouldve been one thing. But he got me fair and square. He stood up.
Do you have anything youd like to bring?
Nope. Dont insult my intelligence, okay? I know Im going to a reeducation center. Ive seen them. So lets not pretend youre taking me off to summer camp.
Al shrugged. Very well.
They started back up the shore, walking up the long spit of land. Stone kept stopping to gaze out at the sea.
Do you mind? he said. I didnt give you a hard time. Do you mind if I look, for a moment? Might be a while before I see the ocean again.
Go ahead.
Stone set his eyes on the distant horizon. My ancestorssome of em, anywaysailed thousands of miles out there, without compasses, without astrolabes or computers or satelliteswell, except the moon, of course. Just guts and the stars and dead reckoning.
You did it, too, Al said.
Ohyeah, knowing it could be done. Thats not the same as sailing out into an unknown ocean, not knowing if anything at all is there, with only so much in the way of supplies He smiled faintly. I always wanted to do that, out where that kind of thing is still done, in the stars. But they wouldnt let me, you know, when they found out what I was. They wouldnt let me be.
Thats life, Al told him. We cant have everything we want. Id like to be taller. Im not.
Yeah.
Anyway, you couldve joined the Corps. That can take you out there, to the stars.
Oh, yeah. As a cop, or a hunter, or the pet magician of some general. Thats not what I wanted. He looked at Al. Why do you do it, Bester-That-There-Is? What did the underground ever do to you?
Killed my parents. Ruined everyone I ever loved. Not a lot, I guess, but I can be as petty as the next man about having my life ruined. The underground is a lie, and a destructive lie. The Corps is the truth. It may not be perfect, but it is the truth.
Stone shrugged. Guess Ill see how truthful it is in the camps. Are you gonna check on me a year from now and see if Im still alive? See if they beat me to death or drove me crazy with punishment scans? Or are you just going to turn me in and forget I ever existed?
Im just doing my job.
Stone laughed. Yeah. Okay, Im ready to go.
Al caught something then, a bitter sardonic humor. He looked sharply at Stone. Stone saw that he knew and smiled.
Got you, Mr. Bester-That-There-Is. You stopped to catch a minnow and the whale got away. Too late now.
Al blinked at him, then hit him with a scan. He should have done it to start with, even though it was illegal. Sure, they could never use it in court, but
Stone fought him, tooth and nail. He was strong, maybe a P10. They stood on that headland by the sea, a storm whipping up. The sea and sky bled together, the earth thinned to nothing. Shark-headed beasts and bird-headed men stormed his defenses.
Shaman battles, Al remembered.
It lasted a long time. Stone was clever and determined, but in the end Al was stronger and more skilled. The big man slumped to the earth, unconscious, and Al had three things from him that were important. A name, a signature, a destination.
He turned and ran back up the beach as fast as he could, PPG drawn.
Get the hell out of my way! he snarled, as he came back up to the house. They didnt try to stop him; they stepped aside and let him go in.
He didnt find mucha blanket, the faint residue of a telepathic signature, the same one Stone had been carrying in his mind.
He should have known Stone had given up too easily, that he was sacrificing himself for someone else. He should have known there was someone else in that damned canoe.
The biggest fish of all. The leader of the underground since 2190, for more than thirty years. Stephen Walters.
Al had missed him. But he had his signature, and he knew where he was going.
This hunt was just beginning.
* * *
chapter 2
« » Tell me why I should give you this assignment, Mr. Bester, station chief Niles Ramanashah said mildly.
Bester lifted his chin a tad. Sir. Because Im the one who found the lead, sir.
We are all one in the Corps, Mr. Bester. Didnt you know that? If its a matter of prideif you just want to prove you can catch this guy, thats not reason enough.
No, sir, thats not it. Im the one who found the lead, so Im the one who has his scent This isnt just any Blipthis is Stephen Walters, and I think well need every edge we can get. If you check my records
Oh, Ive checked your records, Mr. Bester, no need to worry on that account And of course your reputation precedes you. Youve made quite the name for yourself for such a young man. Youre what? Thirty?
Thirty-three, sir.
Ramanashah glanced at the display on his desk. Interned with Olivia Vong, where you showed outstanding courage under fire. First assigned to the Saint Petersburg officeyou made lieutenant in just under four years. I wont even bother to read your list of arrests. He paused. There are some notes. A number of civilian-related incidents.
Only two official complaints, sir, and in both cases the individuals were eventually convicted of aiding and abetting, so of course they kicked and screamed.
I can see that, Mr. Bester. Most of the worrisome comments are from your superiors, in particular Geoffrey de Vries, who had you transferred from his command. You seem to have made him nervous.
Commander de Vries is a good man, sir.
Indeed. But perhaps a little timid?
I cant speak to that.
Huh. Mr. Bester, if I send you to Mars, it will be me who takes the heat for any incidents there. I am not timid, and to be perfectly candid, I have little sympathy for mundanes who get in the way of a Psi Corps investigation. On the other hand, the Corps itself has taken some political heat in the last few years, so for the good of us all, there is some need for a certaindecorum. Do you follow me?
Yes, sir. Does that mean
I have another piece of information, Mr. Bester, one not written in your record. Director Johnston he doesnt like you. Do you know why?
Not exactly, sir. Something about his predecessor taking an interest in me.
Well, you are something of a loose cannon, Mr. Bester, but I havent seen a more gifted young officer in a long time. And, as you say, you are the logical man for the job. Im having you transferred to my station immediately. The director wont like it, but then that isnt your concern. Ill detach you to Mars as soon as thats done. Pack warm, Mr. Bester. I hear Mars can get a bit chilly.
Holy mother of God, Erik Andersen choked out, closing his eyes. The hull of the lander had begun to hum in a tone
that couldnt possibly be good, and the distant rusty curve of the planet was flattening with uncomfortable speed. Doesnt this bother you at all.Al?
Its not the fall that worries me, Al replied. Its that quick stop at the bottom.
But Al had to admit he wasnt exactly thrilled. He had never been afraid of flying, but then he had never dropped like a stone for hundreds of miles. Over the last few days he had watched Mars go from marble to baseball to basketball, but it had always been out .
Now it was down , with a vengeance. He remembered Teacher Roberts long-ago lesson about the primate origins of human sensibilities. He could appreciate that ancient tree-dweller in him right nowit was bad, bad, bad to be up this high without a single branch to hold on to.
Nope, this wasnt flying, it was falling.
It got worse, of course, as they hit the unpredictable lower atmosphere, which was thickened, wetted, andit seemedangered by terraforming. Just as you were telling yourself that you were safe in the belly of superior technologythat such landings were routineyour gut would drop, inertia would yank you in some unnatural direction, and it would seem thoroughly implausible that survival was even remotely possible.
He kept his breathing steady and let Erik do the moaning for both of them. Being frightened sometimes had utility, sometimes not. He was in someone elses hands and would either survive or not. Nothing his backbrain screamed at him would change that.
Still, when the ship was finally motionless, his body felt like a wet towel, snapped too many times by some kid in a locker room. He deboarded on wobbling legs and queued up for the security check.
There was a woman in line in front of him with a little boy in tow. The boy, fidgetyand seemingly unperturbed by the landing looked around restlessly before noticing Al and Erik behind him. When he did, he started tugging on the womans sleeve. Mommy, he said, theres one a them mindfrickers behind us.
The woman turned, her face darkening from copper to dark brown. Jeremy! she snapped. I never want to hear you use that kind of language again. She looked apologetically at Al. I dont know where kids hear these things, I honestly dont. Im very sorry.
She was lying, and Al knew it. He smiled. Well, you can only control what they get at home, he replied.
I try to teach him the right things, she said, her voice a bit defensive. She knelt down. Look, Jeremy, I want you to apologize to the nice man. Hes Psi Copone of the good kind of telepaths. He helps protect us from the bad ones.
The boy peeked around her leg.
Hello, Jeremy, Al said. My name is Mr. Bester. As your mother said, Im the good kind of telepath.
Oh. The boy reached uncertainly for his hand. How come you wear gloves?
Because if I didnt, I might accidentally burn your brain all up, Al said, still smiling. We wouldnt want that to happen to such a nice little boy. He looked back at the mother, whose face had done an odd about-face and was now rather pale. I believe, he said, pointing beyond her, that the customs man is waving you over. He cast a knowing look at her bag. May I help you with your luggage?
He hadnt scanned her, so her bright flicker of panic was all the more amusing. Everyone had something to hide, some dirty little exception they imagined themselves entitled to.
No, thank you, she said quickly.
Al shrugged. But as she left, he whispered a subtle, subliminal suggestion to the customs agent that he search her bags with more than usual thoroughness.
You ever get used to that crap? Erik asked.
What crap?
The bigotry. The hatred.
Al shrugged. The dinosaurs had their moment, too, he observed.
Meaning?
Nothing, Erik, nothing. Look, now its our turn.
A man and woman in MetaPol uniforms greeted them as they left the terminal. Onea tall blond with a prematurely receded hairlinestepped up. Welcome to Mars. Im Faren McCleod, and this is my associate Roxanna Durst. He indicated a thick-boned young woman with handsome cheekbones and green eyes.
Pleased to meet you both. Im Alfred Bester, and this is Erik Andersen.
Polite bows went around.
Well, once we get your luggage, we can move on to the briefing, if the both of you are up to it
Absolutely, Al said Im eager to get started.
Judit Uhl settled into her chair with a look of contemptuous amusement playing across her somewhat catlike face. So you know that the Stephen Walters is on Mars, eh, Mr. Bester? On Mars. On the planet somewhere. And that is the extent of your knowledge?
Almost. I will recognize my quarry, of course, by his signature. But Ive studied Walters. If hes here, hes not alone. In fact, its a good bet that there is a large, highly organized resistance cell on the planet somewhere. That should be hard to hide, now that we know its here. Am I wrong?
Uhl smiled with an obviously false sincerity. Yes, Mr. Bester, you are. And Geneva was aware of that when they sent you.
Im sure they werent, or they wouldnt have sent me.
Let me explain something to you, Mr. Bester, Uhl said, motioning toward the window. She came out of her seat as if propelled by springs and clattered to the view with staccato grace. Al rose and joined her in regarding the landscape.
What looked like crushed brick spread to a horizon of low mountains. They were looking east, and a small, sickly looking sun was just starting to crawl through a long Martian day. The sky was a dark salmonnot that different from the landbordered on the northern horizon by dirty red and black lenses that Al assumed were clouds.
Looks forbidding, doesnt it? It is, but people are not easily forbidden, Mr. Bester. What we have here is a planet with more land area than Earth. To keep watch on that, we have forty trained Psi Cops. Forty.
So few? Al said. Still, no matter how much land area there is here, the situation can hardly be the same as on Earth. After all, even the air isnt free here. Your population is more constrained, by necessity. The places they can arrive and leave from are few in numberthe spaceports, the city air locks
She interrupted him with a small laugh. Ah. Mr. Bester, it must be wonderful to live in such a dreamworld. Ships land on Mars every day, all over the place, unmonitored and uncontrolled. We have three large cities, two hundred and thirty experiment and mining stationsmost privately ownedand about three thousand registered hinterland colonists. Add to that at least as many unregistered squattersreligious extremists, utopianists, criminals, rugged individualists, cowboy-and-Indian wannabes. Oh, EarthForce stops transports and mining vehicles which try to slip things on and off planet without paying taxes and tariffsbut dont imagine we have the same kind of satellite net that Earth does, or the same number of ships. Maybe a tenth of such illegal activity is discovered.
In other words, Mr. Bester, planetary security stinks, and no one really gives a damn. Marsies certainly dont. Marsies like freedom. They like the sodbusters, even the squatters. People leave the cities and join them all the time, some with permits, some without. The fact is, settlement permits are so cheap, the government mostly looks the other way if you dont have one. Mars is trying to attract settlers, not scare them off.
So your rogues could be anywhere out there. Anywhere. Unless you have some idea where you want to start looking, youve wasted your time and the Corps money. She waved dismissively at the landscape and returned to her chair.
Well. I presume that you have at least a list I can start with, and transportation.
She nodded, smirking, and pushed a stylus tablet across the desk toward him.
Eriks eyes widened as he stared at the list.
Theres a hundred and fifty sites listed here. Scattered all over Mars. This will take forever.
Yes, Al said, scrolling through another database.
I guess we can narrow it down, some. I mean, the Blips are probably disguised as the last group we would imagine, right? Like maybe the Adamists, or some other Human purist organization.
Maybe. But there are still too many of them, and the local office wont give us more than two or three m
en at a time. Suppose we do stumble on them, what then? We vanish into the Martian desert, you and I. And when we start searching, word will get out, so theyll be ready. No, we have to pick the right spot the first time out, or get there darn quickly.
And how do we do that?
Al leaned back on his chair, looking around their cramped quarters. Uhl talks as if there are hundreds of thousands of independent settlements out there. But there cant be.
What do you mean? Here they are. He waved the tablet
They arent independent. They cant produce everything they need, and they certainly cant produce everything that they want. Have you ever studied central place theory?
Not that I know of.
Human beings dont settle randomly. Central place theory is one way of modeling where people live. Here, let me show you something. He cleared the desktop and then took up a stylus. Erik leaned over to watch as Al drew a large dot and filled it in. This is a citylets call it Metro . He labeled it. Cities produce finished products. Computers. Phones. Stylish clothing. Art objects. Processed food. Entertainment. Anything you need or desire, you can probably find in the city.
Okay. But all of the raw materials for that stuff have to come from somewhere else, right?
Yes, but leave that aside for a moment. Just think like a consumer. In the universe of things you might want or need, the city is the center.
Okay.
Now. He drew four smaller dots in a circle around Metro, and labeled them clockwise 1, 2, 3, 4 . All were two inches from Metro, and about two inches from each other. These well call towns. Each is about the same size. Lets pretend each produces something differentthis one iron ore, this one corn, this one cotton textiles. You live in town 1, which grows wheat. So if you want bread, you just stay home. What if you want the iron tools produced in town 2 or the textiles produced in town 4?
Erik studied the diagram. Metro, he said.
Why?
Towns 2 and 4 are no farther than Metro, but they are in opposite directions. The other towns are even farther. I can make one trip to the big city and get everything, plus catch a show and eat a fancy meal.
Babylon 5 11 - Psi Corps 02 - Deadly Relations - Bester Ascendant (Keyes, Gregory) Page 16