The Sopaths

by Piers Anthony

In due course Nefer was packed into her mother’s car and taken home. The family could finally relax.

  “But you know, we have crossed the line,” Bunty said. “We knowingly used a sopath to kill a normal.”

  Exactly. “We do what we have to do. We are at war.”

  And, indeed, so it seemed.

  The Pariahs were on full alert for the next few days, but the neighborhood was quiet. Either their watchfulness was effective, or the criminals had not yet tried to strike back. Unless the message had been received, and there would be no further trouble.

  Then a bomb exploded, sending a car careening out of control. They studied the site, and concluded that it was a mine that had been buried under a loose section of the pavement, primed to detonate when a car tire pressed it flat.

  The war was not over.

  “Metal detectors,” Abner said. “We need to spot any more of those things that show up.”

  They got the detectors, but two more cars were wrecked before they zeroed in on an unexploded mine. One of the Pariahs knew how to handle it. They deactivated it, dug it up, and stored it in a safe place.

  There was a memorial service for Sylvia, attended by more than just Pariahs. She had been a force for good in the neighborhood. Even several policemen attended, and some spoke. It was evident that they were sorry about what happened.

  The police chief approached Abner after the service. “Someone will have to take her place,” he said. “You could do it.”

  “Me! I’m a family man.”

  “Who takes out sopaths. Who doesn’t like criminals. Or so I hear. Well, what you do is your own business. But watch your back. That pedo was part of a larger operation, and they don’t like to be challenged. They use the sopaths as drug runners. Some of them can be bought for just candy. We can’t be everywhere all the time, and now we know how they react to a straightforward complaint. So we won’t try that again. But we’ll support you in our fashion.”

  “Thank you,” Abner said tightly.

  There seemed to be no alternative. He met with the Pariah members and informally assumed the mantle of their local leader. This meant that newly bereaved sopath survivors would be directed to him, and he would have to try to find assistance for them. It promised to be a headache, but someone had to do it.

  They continued to take out sopaths, mostly young ones, ages three and four, who managed to get out but had not yet become wary of candy. It was evident that this was a rising global problem; their neighborhood was typical, not special.

  The older sopaths, ages five, six, and seven, were fewer in number, but canny and dangerous. They carried drugs and guns, delivering to that broad market for both. And child prostitution.

  Abner took Dreda to visit Nefer at her home, during her recovery. She was confined to her room for health reasons, and was antsy. Her arm was healing without complications. Dreda made a show of hugging her, and Nefer hugged her back. Then Abner talked with Mrs. Biggs while the two children chatted by themselves. After half an hour Abner went to fetch Dreda.

  “I have cookies,” Mrs. Biggs said. “This way.”

  “I’m tired of cookies,” Nefer said. So Dreda went with the woman, leaving Abner alone with Nefer for the moment.

  “I gave Dreda the scoop,” Nefer said. “Please.”

  He knew what she wanted. He sat down beside her, put his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her on the mouth. Again he felt her surprisingly mature passion.

  “Thanks,” she breathed.

  Nefer was, bit by bit, having her way with him.

  On the way home, Dreda filled him in. “She did sneak out some. She knows some normal children she gets information from. She trades feels for it with the boys, stolen trinkets with the girls. She gave me the local address of the criminal sin—syndi—”

  “Syndicate.”

  “Syndicate, where they distribute the drugs.”

  “That’s what we need to know,” Abner said. “Thank you, Dreda. I know you don’t like being friendly with a sopath, but it really helps.”

  “Actually, she’s not bad, now that she’s treating me like a friend. It’s an act, but it works. You’re the one she wants.”

  “I kissed her. I can do that much.”

  “She’d do anything for a kiss, and more if you let her touch you where she wants. Maybe you should let yourself like her a little, daddy.”

  “I’ll try,” he said.

  There were Pariahs who knew how to use the Internet to track things down. They verified that the local source of the drugs was the address Nefer had given. They focused on it, intercepting more of the older sopaths now that they knew where to find them.

  Then as Abner was backing out of his carport, there was an explosion under his car. The car was heaved up and thrown on its side. Only the secure seat belt saved him from a severe battering or worse. As it was, he was knocked out for a moment. He came to as Bunty was struggling to get him freed from the harness and out of the burning car.

  The syndicate had zeroed in on him and tried to assassinate him, just as it had Sylvia.

  “They’re playing for keeps!” Bunty said as she got him into the house and into bed. “Abner, we can’t continue like this!”

  “We can’t quit, either,” he said. “We can’t turn the neighborhood over to the criminals and sopaths.”

  She shook her head, knowing he was right.

  He spent three days recovering, on Bunty’s insistence. He was bruised all over, and had an oppressive headache, but nothing was broken. Pariahs visited, commiserating.

  So did Nefer. “Don’t tell me you care,” he teased her weakly.

  “I do care,” she said. “You still owe me a jailbreak.”

  Oh, of course. Trust her to have a selfishly practical motive. “I will honor it, if the time comes.”

  “Do you want me to get in bed with you and rev you up?”

  Was she trying to be helpful? “Thanks, no. Why did you come?”

  “You’re going to get them back, right? Same way as we took out that pedo?”

  He hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t think the same ploy will work this time. They aren’t pedophiles.”

  “You’ve got that bomb.”

  “Return the favor? Suddenly I like the way your mind works, Nefer. But I fear planting it where it counts would be impossible to accomplish. They’ll have guard dogs and electronic sensors.”

  “But a sopath runner could get in. Maybe plant the bomb.”

  “That thing must weigh a hundred pounds.”

  “I could tote it on a wagon. Set it off in the house.”

  “It would be suicide!”

  “But it would get them.”

  He stared at her. “Are you serious? You’re a sopath, you care for your own hide above all else.”

  “I’d do it for you.”

  “No.”

  “Take me in bed with you now, and I’ll do it tonight.”

  “You’re crazy!”

  “No. But maybe in love.”

  “You’re a child and a sopath. How can you love anyone other than yourself?”

  “I’m a child and a sopath,” she agreed. “But I think I love you. Just being near you turns me on.”

  Abner considered that. “May I consult with my wife?”

  “Consult with them all. It’s a deal I’ll make.”

  In moments the family was there with them. “Nefer has offered to be a suicide bomber, to take out the criminal distribution center. In return for sex with me. She says she loves me. Is this possible?”

  The three of them focused on Nefer. “Let me hold your hand a moment,” Bunty told her.

  Nefer offered it. Bunty took it and put her finger on the wrist, checking the pulse. “Now take her other hand, Abner.”

  What was Bunty up to? Abner reached and took the girl’s other hand.

  “Suddenly her pulse is accelerating,” Bunty said. “Now kiss her.”

  Abner brought the girl to him and kissed her gently on the mouth.
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  “Racing,” Bunty announced as she released Nefer’s hand. “She either loves you or hates you.”

  “I love him,” Nefer said. “I want to make him love me back, or at least like me a little. Knowing I’m a sopath.”

  Bunty nodded. “As a sopath, she lacks civilized limits. A normal child would suppress romantic or sexual appetite for an adult, feeling shame. Nefer has no such restraint. She loves you and is bargaining openly for your return love. It’s a fair offer.”

  “The hell it is!” he snapped. “I would not take advantage of her like that, either way.”

  “I know you wouldn’t, dear. My point is that she is willing to do anything to win your favor, including suicide. That has to be respected.”

  “You’re helping me!” Nefer said, amazed.

  “I’m helping the man I love to accomplish his purpose. There are nuances that you are not equipped to understand, Nefer, but the essence is that yes, I support your case.”

  Taken aback, Abner looked at Clark and Dreda. “What’s your take on this?”

  “When she’s acting decent, she’s not bad,” Clark said.

  “I don’t want her to die,” Dreda said. “I like her.” That was a formidable admission.

  Now Nefer spoke. “You know I’m only pretending. I’m not your friend, Dreda. I can’t be anybody’s friend.”

  Dreda looked cannily at her. “Daddy loves me. You love daddy.”

  “So?”

  “Let me interpret,” Bunty said. “A significant part of what Abner is, is his love for his family. We’re not his original family, but we’ve all had similar experiences with sopaths and we understand him, and he understands us. We fulfill each other. We all hate sopaths. But now we are coming to accept you, despite your nature, in part because you love Abner too. Maybe in a different way, but you do. You are coming to accept us because you can’t love Abner without loving what he loves too.”

  “Sure I can. I don’t care who else he loves.”

  “And you’re not jealous of his love for Clark and Dreda?”

  “They don’t want to have sex with him.”

  “Point taken,” Bunty said. “But what about me? I do want to have sex with him.”

  Nefer gazed thoughtfully at her. “And you’re helping me. I don’t understand that.”

  “Maybe I think that if he had sex with you, then the challenge would be gone and you’d lose interest and go away.”

  “Bunty!” Abner protested.

  Nefer shook her head. “Wouldn’t work. I’d want him to keep fucking and fucking me all the time.”

  “I’m not going to do that!” Abner said.

  “I know,” Nefer said. “But at least this way I can be close to you.”

  “You can be close to him by being close to Clark and Dreda,” Bunty said. “If he knows you’ll be protecting them from harm, he’ll value you more.”

  The girl pondered, working it out. “That’s right. He’d kill me if I did anything bad to you or them, but if I help them, maybe he’ll like me.”

  Abner saw his opportunity. “Maybe I will,” he agreed.

  “Via that avenue you can be Dreda’s friend,” Bunty said. “Perhaps not one to be completely trusted, but there are different types of friends.”

  Nefer stood there, mulling it over. Then tears started rolling down her face. “I—can—be. A friend.”

  Dreda put her arms around Nefer. Then the others closed in, and they were a close group with Nefer in the center. It was similar to their nightly grief sessions, but this was a kind of joy.

  After a moment they separated. “Here is another truth,” Bunty said to Nefer. “When you pretend long enough, you can come to accept it as a kind of reality. To be what you pretend to be. You will never have a conscience or feel remorse, but as long as you act as if you do, you can have the benefits they bring. Including survival.”

  “I pretend at home,” Nefer said. “But they don’t know.”

  “We do know,” Abner said. The girl was a consummate little actress emulating normal feelings she lacked, but was committed in her fashion. “That’s the difference.”

  Nefer was still working it out. “So I don’t have to fu—to have sex with you to make you like me. I just have to act like a normal.”

  “That’s it,” Abner agreed. “Now I can say it: I do like you, Nefer. Some. Maybe the way I might like a vicious guard dog, but as long as I know it is loyal to me, I like it.”

  She shook her head, bemused. “Weird.”

  The others laughed.

  CHAPTER 6

  “Understand,” Abner said grimly. “We’re not doing this because we like violence or killing, but because the criminals are trying to kill us and we have to be rid of them. We want them to conclude that this section of town is simply too dangerous for them to operate freely, so they will go elsewhere and leave us alone.”

  “We know, daddy,” Dreda said. “It’s like killing sopaths.”

  “Exactly. We are using Nefer because she can best do the job, not because we prefer her to you.”

  “We know,” Clark said. “She doesn’t mind killing.”

  “This is dangerous. We could both get killed. If so--”

  “We know,” Bunty said. “If you die, I will look for another man in Pariah, to maintain the family.” She paused, then added “But please don’t die.”

  “I’ll certainly try. I love you.”

  Bunty paused again, opened her mouth, then dissolved into tears. They all clustered together, sharing another grief session, only this one was for him. In case he died. Bunty had tried to pass the prospect off incidentally, but gotten overwhelmed. They had all experienced the awful loss of their families, and didn’t want it to happen again. And the fact was they did love each other, and the children. Their assembly as a de facto family might have been haphazard, but it had become quite real emotionally and practically.

  Then Bunty was kissing him passionately. The children departed, letting her savagely seduce him. They understood.

  That night he went out alone, fetched the wagon with the mine, and quietly wheeled it along the dark street. The heavy load was covered by a tarpaulin; it could have been anything from potatoes to children. They had considered a fancier camouflage, but concluded that it was pointless; the gangsters would quickly check it regardless. This needed to be brutally fast. He did not head directly to his destination, and checked everything around him to be sure no one was watching.

  Nefer appeared, stepping from the shadow. “I have it, Mr. Slate.”

  “Not yet. It’s heavy.”

  “Haul it to the low hill beyond the site. Then I’ll ride it down.”

  “Nefer, it’s a bomb!”

  “It won’t go off until I pull the plug.” That was her way of describing the catch mechanism they had used to secure the mine. It was armed, but stifled; removal of that catch would set it off.

  He did not argue further. He hauled the wagon along, and she paced him, peering around to be sure they were alone. He was highly conscious of the bomb, because they had packed it with kerosene-soaked wood chips and newspaper, hoping that it would set a fire when it went off. They did not want it going off prematurely.

  In due course they were on the hill. A slight slope led down to the gangster’s center of operations. “My turn,” Nefer said, putting her hand on his on the handle.

  “Remember, when you activate it, you will have perhaps ten seconds to get well away before it detonates,” he reminded her. “It doesn’t have a proper timing mechanism. Do it and run.”

  “I got it, Mr. Slate. Kiss me.”

  It was part of her price. He squatted before her, put his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her on the mouth. She pressed her lips into his, savoring it. She was good at kissing. She was behaving, but he knew she still wanted to seduce him if she could.

  He broke the kiss and released her. “I love you,” she said. Then she lifted the handle, faced the target house and started walking. She had no trouble h
auling the wagon behind her, because of the slope.

  Abner moved behind a tree and watched. His heart was pounding from the danger and perhaps something else. It was all up to Nefer now, as it had been with the pedophile.

  She proceeded resolutely down the street. When she approached the house, a man intercepted her. Abner could hear his challenge in the quiet night. “Who are you?”

  “I’m a sopath,” Nefer replied boldly, continuing to move forward. “News is you need runners. I brought my wagon, so I can carry a full load. Just give me the stuff and the addresses and the money.”

  The man paced her. “Not so fast, little so-bitch. What’s under that tarp?”

  “Its just a box for holding the stuff. I don’t want to lose any. Where’s the stash?”

  But he was suspicious. “What’s there? It stinks of kerosene.”

  She accelerated her pace, drawing close to the house. “Well so do you, creep.”

  “Hey, we got a smartass!” the man called.

  Immediately several other men emerged from the house, surrounding them. One of them ripped the tarpaulin off, exposing the wooden box with its packing. The kerosene odor intensified. Abner could almost smell it from his distant vantage. In another moment they would discern the nature of this package.

  Nefer reached inside and yanked off the protective tie, activating the bomb. She bolted away.

  “Grab her!” the first man cried, apparently not catching on to the danger they were in.

  The man closest to Nefer reached out to snag her as she passed him. She brought her head down and bit his hand.

  “Yow!” he bellowed, grabbing for her again. He caught her and hauled her into him.

  The bomb detonated. It was a splendid explosion. The blast hurled the men outward, set their clothing on fire, and ignited the overhanging roof of the house. The man holding Nefer seemed to leap through the air, carrying her with him. His body was inadvertently shielding her from both the blast and the flames.

  Then they fell, and both lay still as the fire spread across the house.

  Abner was running toward them before he knew it. He saw Nefer’s slight body pinned under that of the man. He hauled the man off her, then picked her up and carried her away. No one tried to stop him; they were all unconscious or dazed.