Sir? It was Tapia, and she sounded a little funny.
Yes?
Zees been missing from Ceres base for two days now.
Ysidra, move the transport away, now, go . He punched over to Byrons frequency. Byron, cut loose and hit your thrusters.
What? Sir, whats
Do it ! He cut his own, hit thrusters, and spun around, then engaged all four ion jets at once. With the sudden g-force, directionless space acquired an up-and-downhis back was down, the ship was down, the stars were up, far away.
And so it was below him that a flower of light opened its petals, from below him that a thousand shards of hull metal spattered onto his own hull, into the straining Copeland engines. His own weight seemed to wrap around him like a hand, squeezed impossibly tight, and then mercifully loosened. Direction vanished again, and he was merely tumbling through the void. A band tightened across his chest and eyes, blood thundered in his ears, and he almost lost consciousness. He almost lost his breakfast, too, but he kept it down.
Groggily, still fighting dizziness and double vision, he ran through his systems, looking for something that worked.
The first thing he noticed was that he was about to explode. His instrumentsthose still functioningwarned him the ion suppression tines on the drives had melted and crumpled in, but the engines were still on.
He cut them, but odds were that wouldnt be good enough.
Ysidra? Ysidra, are you there?
Static.
Byron?
He should jettison. But if he did that, and both the transport and Byron were disabled
He gritted his teeth, watched the instruments. Things were starting to cool down now, though he wasnt nearly out of the danger zone.
Well. Someone had tried to kill him.
That struck him as funny, and he started to chuckle. He was still chuckling when he heard Byrons voice in his head.
Mr. Bester? Are you okay?
Hello, Byron. Yes. What about you?
Ive lost two engines, but I think Ill be fine. Are you laughing ?
Yes.
May I ask why?
The universe is full of irony, Byron. Never forget that . He paused. Ill explain it to you, someday. Can you see the transport?
Yes, sir. Ive got Ysidra on the com. But we couldnt raise you.
My systems are pretty badly damaged. In fact, now that I know you guys are okay, Im jettisoning
He paused. How smart was that? What if Ysidra, Byron, the restwhat if they were in on it?
Well, then he was doomed. Screw it.
He jettisoned.
Have Ysidra send someone out to reel me in , he cast.
Theyre already on their way. What do you think happened?
Our friend was never on the ship. It was a trap.
The rogues are more vicious than I ever imagined , Byron cast, shimming self-righteous indignation.
Bester sighed. For all of his good qualities, Byron was a bit naive. Still, at the moment there was no point in disabusing him of the notion. Besides, there was some very small chance that the attempt had been made by the underground. Certainly thats who would officially end up taking the blame.
But Besterhe knew better. Thats why he laughed. Synchronicity.
Ganymede was a ruined jade, cracked and spalled white as if the gods had used it in a few too many cosmic games of marbles. Bester liked her blemished beauty. Ganymede was a dark woman with many secrets.
They were dropping toward one of those secrets just now.
Theyre asking for clearance, sir.
Put them on.
A voice came through, edged with the constant crackle that colored all transmissions near Jupiter. The static, however, couldnt hide the crisp Manchester accent.
I repeat, identify yourselves.
Mr. Drew, this is Alfred Bester. What seems to be the problem? Youve identified my ships, Im certain, and we sent the security codes.
But, Mr. Bester, this is highly irregular. I was not informed that you would be arriving.
My crew and I have been in hot pursuit of a Blip, Mr. Drew. Its been a very hard ride. We in effect lost two Starfuries and our transport is damaged. We need repairs, not to mention hospitality. So I hope you dont mind if we impose on you a bit. We are, after all, family. He forced out a laugh. Unless you have some sort of standing orders against me in particular
Oh, no, Mr. Bester. Of course not. Im clearing you to land right now. Welcome to Ganymede.
Thank you, Bester replied.
A Psi Corps base on Ganymede? Byron said. I didnt know.
Its on a need-to-know basis, Bester said.
and I didnt need to know. Yes, I think Ive heard that a few times now, thank you, Mr. Bester.
There isnt much to it, is there? Byron noticed, as they shucked off their EVA suits. The chamber that lay beyond the inner lock was cramped and severe, with low ceilings and passageways leading off that were somehowdespite their angularitymore reminiscent of tunnels in an anthill than of Human architecture.
A couple of normals in EarthForce uniforms watched them suspiciously.
A third manalso in uniform but wearing a Psi Corps badge waited for them to collect themselves, then stepped forward. Its not a very old base, or a very important one, he said, in the now-familiar accent. Im Charles Drew. Welcome to the Icehouse. He chuckled as he said it.
Thank you, Bester said. I like what youve done with the place.
Yes, well, its spare of necessity. Were a hardened facility sunk down into the water-ice crust. It requires a certain architectural economy.
Its a military base, then? Byron asked.
You really dont want to know what they do here, Byron, Bester said. They would have to kill you.
I thought all the hush-hush stuff went on at Syria Planum.
Drew smiled nervously. Well, theres hush-hush and then theres hush-hush, if you know what I mean.
If we keep this up, well sound like an ancient locomotive, Bester noted, Hush -hush-hush-hush hush -hush-hush-hush
Drew laughed. It sounded almost genuine. Indeed, he said. Would you gentlemen join me for some refreshment?
Wonderful, Bester said. Some hot tea would be very nice.
They traveled up one of the corridors to a small kitchenette, where Drew busied himself making tea. As Bester and Byron seated themselves, another man entered the room from an opposite passage. He was a handsome fellow, dapper in a crisply pressed suit. He had black hair and dark, haunted eyes.
Wellheres what all the fuss was about, he said, taking in Bester and Byron.
Not expecting someone else, I hope? Bester said. Im Al Bester. This is my associate, Byron Gordon.
Actually, the fellow said, I was told we were expecting visitors
Mr. Bester and Mr. Gordon are making an emergency stop here, Drew hastily cut in. They were quite unexpected. Mr. Bester, Mr. Gordonmay I introduce Dr. Morden?
Doctor? Bester said curiously. He shook his head. My, my the people you meet at small outposts. M.D. or Ph.D.?
Ph.D. In archaeolinguistics.
Really ? Fascinating.
You know the subject?
No, but I am nonetheless fascinated. He let that hang for a moment, as Drew set out the tea service.
This is really very good, Bester said, after a sip.
Thank you, Drew replied. We do try to maintain what amenities we can.
Dr. Morden, Bester said, dare I ask what brings an archaeolinguist all the way out to Ganymede?
Morden exchanged glances with Drew, but Bester wasnt entirely certain what was communicated. Morden was a mundane, but Drew, a P10, would notice a scan.
Morden took a seat. My position is actually with EarthForce, and not with Psi Corps, so Im unsure of who I can and cant talk to in these situations. On the other hand, Im happy to say I dont actually know what Im doing on Ganymede, so I dont actually have to evade your question.
Bester raised his teacup. Dr. Mordenyou will consider it a compliment, I hope, when I tel
l you that I feel sure that if you wanted to evade one of my questions, you could do so.
Oh, in all humility, I doubt that, Morden replied.
There followed a silence that Bester sensed was uncomfortable to everyone but him. He hoped it was, anyway.
If I may, Drew asked, politely, a few moments later, I should like to ask how many of your crew will be coming onto the station.
Well, there are twelve of us, Bester said. Will that press you for room? Dr. Morden mentioned some other guests arriving?
Within the hour, actually, and Ill have to excuse myself to go greet them momentarily. I can only accommodate three of your party tonight, Im afraid.
Can the others come in just to stretch their legs, a few at a time? I understand you have an exercise room. He set his teacup down. Anyone I know?
Pardon?
Your visitors. Anyone I know?
Drew appeared to dither for a few moments. Its classified, he said, after a moment.
Well, how about thisWhoever it is, you mention to them that Im here. I dont know why, but I have a hunch that they might want to see me.
Of course. And yes, your people are welcome to come on for a bit of a stretch.
Somethings up, right? Byron asked, once they had been shown to their room. The quarters were very simple, bunk beds and a desk that folded from the wall.
What do you mean?
I meanthis is a Psi Corps base, right? So why are all of the guards mundanes? And who is that Morden character? And why are they hiding things from you , of all people?
Well, Byron, dont exaggerate my importance. As for the rest, its all perfectly natural. Psi Corps and EarthForce are allies. They work on real black-hole stuff here, things critical to Earth Alliance security, so you shouldnt be surprised by their precautions. He followed with a quick cast. Dont ask too many questions, Byron. And dont imagine they cant hear us .
Byrons chagrined expression made it clear he understood, but to his credit he managed to cover it by nodding. Yes, that all makes sense, I suppose. Im just not used to the world of high intrigue. Well. Good night, sir.
Good night, Byron.
Bester was almost asleep when the door to their quarters opened and the lights came up. Four men in EA uniforms quickly entered the room. All bore PPG rifles.
Onea burly fellow with a broken nose and two chipped front teethnudged Bester with his weapon.
Get up, he snapped. Youre coming with us.
* * *
chapter 8
« » He was little Alfie Bester, being escorted by the Grins to an unknown fate. He was Al Bester, going exactly where he wanted to go, keeping an appointment that was decades late. Could he disconnect memory and perception? It didnt seem so. The only context for understanding the present was the past.
And so, for the second time in his lifealbeit with almost six decades interveninghe was hauled from his bed in the middle of the night and brought before the director of Psi Corps.
The years had been kind to Director Johnston only in that they had let him live. Some would argue it was no kindness at all.
Whereas Vacit had been wrinkled like antique paper, Johnston had shriveled. His bones seemed to have crumpled inward with the collapse of the skin, like a plastic figure that had gotten too hot. His hair was sparse, wet-looking. He sat behind a desk, but that didnt hide the rest of what Bester knew was there; the chair kept his body functioning and gave him mobility.
Yet his eyes were still alive. They poked from beneath the brows of his time-wrecked face like the points of steel knives. And his hatred was still there, as fresh and pure as the day Bester had first felt itwhen he was six.
The director considered him. At each hand stood a black-clad Psi Cop. The EA men went back outside, doubtless to stand guard. They had already searched him, of course.
Good evening, Director, Bester said. Or is it good morning?
The director didnt say anything for a moment. Then he showed his teethstill perfect, regular, white. It might have been a grin or a snarl.
Mr. Bester, what are you doing here?
Sir, with all due respect, what are you doing here? A man your ageyoure in no condition to travel.
Johnstons eyes widened fractionally. I asked you a question.
Bester scrunched his eyebrows thoughtfully. The question has a number of answers, Director. It depends upon what you mean, doesnt it? Do you mean in the philosophical sensewhy am I here? Why are any of us here? Are we really here at all? I dont know the answer to that. Do you mean, why am I here before you at this instant? That would be because your men took me from my room, strip-searched me, and hauled me in front of you. If you mean, what am I doing in the vicinity, then you certainly have access to the records Ive left of my movements over the last month or so. Im going to guess, Director, that you dont mean any of these things.
Mr. Bester The tone carried both weariness and venom.
No, Im going to guess you meant, Mr. Bester, what are you doing here when you ought to be dead?
Johnston had scowled throughout, sometimes looking as though he was about to interrupt. But now he closed his cracked lips. He looked at Bester for a moment, then bobbed his head. You are a very stupid man, if you figured that out, and still came here. But I dont suppose you knew I was coming here, too, did you? Well. I had hoped to be subtler about all of this, but you may as well disappear on Ganymede as anywhere. We have the facilities for it.
Good thinking , sir, Bester told him.
You seem to think I wont do it.
Oh, its not that, Bester said, hastily. But I wonderwould you care to explain why?
Why? No, I dont care to explain. You dont fit into the modern Corps, thats all. Youre an impediment.
I see. Director, weve never really talked, you and I. I think we should, just for the record.
Im tired, Bester. I dont have any more time to waste with you. Im going to have you broken, and everyone in your crew. Once we have everything you know, well find something convenient to do with you. You have a lot of enemies. No one will wonder about youor mourn you, for that matter. He signed to the two cops.
Hugin, Bester said, quietly. Munin. And at the same time he released a string of key glyphs.
The cops stopped in their tracksin fact, took a step backward.
What? The director scowled.
Hugin and Munin. Thought and memory. The two ravens who perched on the shoulders of the Norse god Odin.
The director noticed that his bodyguards werent moving. He looked from one to the other. Hey! he said.
Funny god, Odin. One of his attributes was madness. The warriors he loved best, he would drive berserk, make them gnaw their shields. They were virtually invincible in battle. Unless, of course, Odin wanted them in his own private war partyyou see, he knew one day that the gods were going to have a great battle, a battle to the death, and then he would need the best warriors at his side. So if he looked down and saw a truly great warrior, he wouldarrange for them to stumble in battle, or for the sun to shine in their eyes at exactly the wrong moment. A god of madness and betrayal. Not, all in all, a nice guy.
Stein? Dorset?
They cant hear you. Or, rather, they do hear you, but they wont respond. They will respond to me, and only me. May I sit down? Thank you. Bester lowered himself into a chair.
Guards!
No, they cant hear you either. Different cause, same effect theyre dead. See, Ive been planning this for a very long time. That little attempt to blow me up yesterday really worried menot because you tried to kill me, youve done that often enoughbut because I thought you were onto me. Years and years of planning, shot to hell. But no, fortunately it turned out to be just a coincidence.
What are you talking about?
Director, Ive been planning this moment since I was fifteen. Oh, I didnt know it thenI blamed Beys death on him, on the underground. Well, Bey was weak, in a wayhe did have sympathy for the rogues. Its the same sympathy that allowed him to catch them, and maybe it got
a little out of hand. But he was no traitor. And then there was Montoya, and Brettwell, Im not going to go through it all. I understood that you were a danger to the Corps that first day I met you, when I was six. I knew even then that you hated us.
Im the director of Psi Corps, you idiot.
And a fine one youve been. Slowly selling us out to the mundanes, bit by bit. And to someone else, yes? Arent you curious as to how I knew you would be here, when almost no one else in the universe did?
I think youre going to tell me, regardless.
When the alien ship on Mars woke up and flew off, it had some effect here as well. Im not sure what, Ill admit, but a flurry of messages concerning Ganymede was an impossible correlation to miss. So I kept my ear to the ground, and here we are. I knew they would send you here.
Just who exactly do you suppose they are, Mr. Bester?
I dont know all of the details, of course. I know some of the players. Vice President Clark, for instance, and the upper management of IPX. Certain senators and industrialists. AndI think whoever built those ships. I freely admit, I have no idea who they are. I dont really careyouve betrayed the Corps. Beyond that, you could have betrayed all of humanity and it would be secondary as far as Im concerned. Do you understand what Im saying?
The director straightened, an operation that seemed painful and almost non-Euclidean in its geometry. Do you plan to scan me? Is that what this is all about?
Scan you? Maybe. First and foremost, I plan to execute you.
Of course. But why? Thats what I still dont understand. Bester, Im an old man. I dont have long to live anyway. Surely you dont think that killing me will change anything? There are ten people groomed for my position, and you wont like any of them any more than you like me. We have too much momentum to be deterred in the slightest by the death of a single man. Kill me if you will, but they will still run over you like an insect.
Bester smiled. God grant me the strength to change the things I can change, the serenity to accept the things I cant, and the wisdom to know the difference.
What an amazingly sickening platitude.
Isnt it? It was hanging, in needlepoint, in the home of some rogue sympathizers I found hiding a Blip. They werent very serene about what I did to them.
Babylon 5 11 - Psi Corps 02 - Deadly Relations - Bester Ascendant (Keyes, Gregory) Page 27