chapter I
He awoke choking off a scream, heart stumbling in his chest. The inchoate terror of his dream clung to him like a shroud, blinding him to where he was. The seat, the window, dim pools of light marching away from him. Where? "Dad? Are you okay?" The shroud tore, and he peered through to see his son, a boy with twelve years, his mother's blond hair, his own pointed chin. Beyond the boy he now recognized the darkened interior of a train, reading lamps, other passengers. "It's okay, Len," he murmured. "Just a bit of a bad dream. Where are we?" "I think we're coming up to Prague soon." "We change trains there. I'm glad I woke up." He rubbed his eyes and patted Len on the cheek. The boy looked tired and worried . "We'll be okay. Is your mom awake?" "Yah. She went back to the washroom," he said. Dad, will we get to stay this time? "Don't do that, son. Especially don't do that when we're coming up to a station. Not until we get to India." "Will we get to stay in India?" "Yes. We'll have work permits there, and an apartment. You can go to school and make friends." He nodded at the booklet in Len's lap. "You've been checking it out?" "Yah." He didn't sound very excited. "Tell me something about it, then." "Well-Calcutta is the third largest city in the world. And it has the tallest building, even though it was built fifty years ago . . ." He stumbled off. (confusion, sadness, anger) 71 Didier leaned over and kissed his son on the head, wrapped him in a hug. "It'll be all right this time. They can't come for us there." They rode in silence for a time, and Didier tried to remember the dream that had awakened him. Their old house in Antwerp, the house where he had grown up, collapsing. A dark woman he did not know, standing in the doorway, telling him something ... Them. It was faint, a whisper, but its triumph was undiminished by distance. "Oh, no," he murmured. His son looked at him again, questioning. (block) He couldn't let him know. "I need to go do something," he said. "I need you to be the man for a little while. Can you do that?" "Where are you going?" "Just up a few cars. You may have to change trains without me. It's okay just tell your mother I'll find you on the train. Don't mindspeak. We're almost there, son." "Okay, Dad." But the boy was probing at his block. "Don't do that. It isn't polite. Stay quiet." "Okay, Dad." "I love you." He kissed him again and stood up, his belly feeling like a pit. As soon as he was out of the car, he let his block drop, opened his mind wide. Len wasn't strong enough to hear him this far away. I'm alone. I'm scared. I'm in trouble. He kept that going in his mind, his very real panic sharpening it. Alone. That was the important part. Someone was still touching him-very carefully, but he could feel it. He had an image of a skull, laughing, of a cat approaching. He went through the next car, wondering what time it was, missing his timepiece. It had been an heirloom, Japanese, more than a hundred years old. He'd sold it to buy their tickets. He looked at the info-strips, but they were busy advertising low, low rates to the Russian Consortium. But it must be well past midnight. He moved on through the eerily silent train, until at last a soft bell tone sounded and the train said, "Prague. Praha." He moved to the door. He could feel the triumph arriving like a storm, but from what direction he did not know. Maybe- maybe it was another refugee. Or a thief He suppressed hysterical laughter-at himself, that he would be relieved if it was a thief, or a simple murderer. What a world. What a world. The doors hissed open, and he stepped out onto the platform. The scents of city came to him on a chill wind, coppery and stale. He walked quickly, until he could almost feel the breath on his neck, and then he began to run. Got him! There! Three other minds exploded into motion, somewhere near, and he almost screamed. They were everywhere-they were nowhere. He ran faster. He was in good shapes-he was a runner, a Hash House Harrier. A runner. It had been okay at first the test hadn't revealed him, as a boy. Then he had met Mary. Mary had never been tested. Her father, a biochemist, had somehow faked the results. But he was gone now, and everyone knew the Mark came through the mother, and Len must have it. They had managed to avoid the test for twelve years, moving, running. And he had heard from a man that he should go to India, where they liked teeps, where they would look the other way. He leapt down onto the tracks. One of the voices was fading. He was outdistancing them! Maybe he could find a Catholic church, get sanctuary. Did Prague have many Catholic churches? He could find one. He ran hard up the tracks, and now there was a uniformed guard shouting at him, a normal, who thought his only crime was trying to get out of paying for something. But no, his crime was deeper than that. His crime was existing. He emerged from the station beneath a coffee sky with a hint of cream stirred into the east. Nearly morning. The tracks were sunken three meters below ground level, but a maintenance ladder climbed up one side. Once in the city he could disappear into a million minds, erase himself. Alone. Lost. In trouble. Help! Mary knew what to do from here on out. He just had to lead them off, keep them away from Mary and Len. (block) Cursing himself. Had that slipped into his frontvoice? "Stop!" the normal shouted. But he was up, onto a nearly empty street. And there she was, the woman from his dream, jet-and-argent hair bound in a tight queue, oriental eyes tightening with satisfaction . She wore black. No more running. I'm here to help you. He turned and ran the other way, just in time for him to see the flash of the guard's neural collapser. It struck him in the chest. His limbs jerked, but he managed a few more steps back toward the retaining wail around the tracks. Flash, as the baton struck him again. Slow motion, as his legs folded, as the tracks rushed up, as something quietly snapped in his neck and momentum turned him over. He couldn't move his head, but he could see the guard, looking down at him. He saw the angel of death join the normal. "I got him for you," the guard said, in English, as they began to fade. He felt her hatred. Normals. It was like a dagger. An instant later-he didn't see what she did-the guard joined him on the tracks, his surprise fading into oblivion. He tried to move again. He couldn't tell if he was breathing. Woman: (hint of sadness) Why did you run? He tried to stay focused. Was she really sending to him? How could she ask that? (resignation, defiance, brandy and ice) Because I want my life. Woman: You can't have it, not around normals. You know that. They hate us, fear us. You can only be safe with us. (outrage) I've seen the camps. Woman: (exasperation, disdain) The camps are for fools. She appeared, kneeling next to him. Another voice piped in, slender as a reed. Reed voice: Will he make it? Woman: I don't know. His neck is broken. Ambulance coming? Reed voice: Of course. Did he take out the normal? Woman; image: The normal shooting Didier, woman striking the guard hard in the throat, the guard feeling his larynx crushed, surprise, sucking for air, the sort qf !Pop! as his skull shattered against the concrete. Reed voice: You'll go too far one day, Blood You can't just kill normals. Woman: He deserved it. Look what he did to our brother. A third voice, carrying the raw tones of youth. For this one he caught a name-Dana. But the teep was running from us. The guard was helping us. WouldnY we have killed the teep if we had to? Woman: This is your first hunt, butfrom now on you must know. Teeps are ours. If they have to be killed we kill them. They are ours. But no matter what--no matter what they've done, they don't deserve to be dirtied by a normal. Ever. Normals are the enemies , Daria, the real enemies. Teeps are our kith, our family, even if they deny us. Never forget that. Daria: The kith is mother. The kith is father. Woman: Those aren't just words, you see. Dana: I do see. The woman knelt where he could see her. She touched his face so only he could hear. I don't think you will live. I'm sorry. Is there anything you want me to tell your wife and boy? Please, no. Let them alone. You've killed me, let them alone. That's not how it s going to be. But I'll take good care of them. He felt like he was shivering, rattling apart, as if a train were arriving inside of him. 1 love them. Will you tell them that? Of course. Their names? Mary- He stopped. You didn't know about them, did you? I wasn't sure. I see them now, on the train to India. Nice- looking boy. And now for another thing or two ... He would have wept, but he didn't have time. Death swallowed his tears along with the rest of him. Blood shuddered as the world reasserted itself. She had followed him only to the threshold, and as far as she was concerned, that was too far. The sense
of dislocation, the vague shadow of nightmare, would be with her for days. She looked down at the still face. A P9, maybe PIO. What a pity. We could have used him. Did the rest of you get it? The face of the man who helped him get his passports? Yes, Teal answered. But there was an afterimage behind him- somebody our friend here never saw, but that he picked up from his benefactor. Blood nodded grimly. Exactly. Did you recognize him? Teal hesitated. It might not be ... Blood snorted, and said it out loud. "Bullshit. It was Monkey. I knew we would pick his trail up one of these days." Teal reached to touch her, ignoring the bewilderment of the rookie beside them. Well? What do we do? Blood shot him a weary glance. What else? Catch him, of course.
Chapter 2
"Understand me, Senator. It's not just murder I'm investigating. It's the machine behind the murder. In short, Senator Crawford, I'm investigating the Metasensory Regulation Authority itself." Lee shook his head as if at a child. "You've got all that backward , don't you, Senator?" An ambiguous grin quirked Philip Lai's handsome, ascetic face. He fo lded his long fingers into the loose pockets of his grey suit. "I don't believe 1 follow you, Senator." "Son, don't play games with me. 1 was in this business when you were still learning to count on your fingers. What I mean is, certain senators like yourself-most of them in the opposition party-have been hankering for a piece of me. Now they use a murder that they have absolutely no evidence for to try to hang the MRA out to dry. You see what I mean, son? You've not only already decided that the murder was committed, you've decided that it was committed by a member of the Authority, and that in turn the MRA is to blame, and thus me. But you've got not a single link in the chain of causality. So what that really means is that you want me-for purely political reasons-and you're willing to climb up the crummiest, shakiest ladder in the solar system to get to me. How'm I doin'?" "I have not decided anything," Lai stated. "The president appointed me to this investigation. If you don't approve of that, I suggest you take it up with him. You are familiar with the president , aren't you? Contrary to what you might believe, he is not your subordinate." Crawford actually laughed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. How could I suspect underhanded political motivations from a man 77 who makes a comment like that? Or from a president I actively campaigned against?" Lai's hands emerged from his pockets again and spidered out on Lee's desk. He leaned forward. "I will be clear, Senator. I don't like you, and I don't like the MRA, I don't like Teeptown, and I especially don't like your telepath goon squads. I think you've consistently abused your position, and I think you've grossly misused the talents of the telepaths you keep incarcerated. Now, my feelings on these matters are one thing. They are my opinion, and that is neither here nor there. Except, Senator, that I can prove what I say." "Son, you can certainly try." Kevin Vacit heard the shouting quite clearly as he approached the door marked SENATOR LEE CRAWFORD. He paused. The secretary had said to go straight up and knock, that he was expected. But walking in on an altercation didn't seem the best way to meet his new boss. Then again, ignoring instructions might be worse. He rapped. The shouting broke off. "Come in!" Kevin opened the door. "Who the hell are you?" Kevin recognized him, of course. He had grown up seeing Lee Crawford's face on the vids and in newspapers. It was a sort of shock to see him in person. He had expected Crawford to be bigger somehow, more godlike. In an intangible way, he was. There was an almost palpable sense of power that lay behind that seamed, angular face, that did not come across on a screen or in any photograph. "Sir-Senator-I'm Kevin Vacit." "My replacement," said the other man. Kevin recognized him, too-Tom Nguyen, who had interviewed him. "Damn it, Tom, I don't need your replacement. I need you. You've been with me for almost twenty years." "I'm sorry, Lee. It's what I feel I have to do." The senator blinked, and his face relaxed. It was as if he had just realized his anger was showing and chose not to show it any longer. He sighed. "Very well, Tom. I guess I'm not going to talk you out of it. I'll miss you, though." "I just think, under the circumstances-" "Tom, I told you I don't hold any grudges." "It's not you I'm worried about. It's me I can't live with." He seemed to remember Kevin was in the room. "Sorry, Kevin. Kevin Vacit, meet Senator Lee Crawford." Lee Crawford smiled, the avuncular hound's grin from a thousand images. "Good to see you, son. Hear good things about you. Have a seat, won't you?" He turned back to Tom Nguyen. "You will stay long enough to fill him in?" "Of course. Two weeks, and then as needed." "Good. Well, let's see here, Mr. Vacit-may I call you Kevin?" "Of course, sir." "Then you must call me Lee. In private. Outside of the office you should call me Senator for a while." "I understand S-Lee." "Good. So, Kevin. Bachelor of science in neurophysics from ASU, master's in the same from Harvard-and a degree in law. First in your class. Worked with the Houston special attorney for metasensory evidence-ah, Ernesto Perez, a good man." He looked up. "Son, how old are you?" "I'll be twenty-four next month." Lee smiled. "You'll stop countin' that way someday, son, I promise you. But damn impressive, to be where you are at your age. Precocious, even." He stood up. "Drink?" "No, thank you." Lee snorted. "Figures Tom would replace himself with another straight arrow." He went to a small cabinet and withdrew an earthenware bottle, poured an amber fluid into a small crystal flute. "So you oversaw telepaths in the courtroom." "I did." "Well, tell me this. Some of my colleagues have been pushing to broaden the admissibility of teep testimony. What's your opinion?" "My opinion is that things are best as they stand." Lee nodded. "Well, at least you have an opinion. Now explain it." "Spectral evidence." "I'm afraid you've lost me, son." "In the late seventeenth century, in North America, in Salem, Massachusetts, a number of people were tried and many hung for witchcraft. The court admitted testimony of spectral evidence- allegations that the accused had appeared in ghostly form to those they afflicted. One of the men involved-Cotton Mather-argued persuasively against the admissibility of such evidence. After all, the testimony wasn't verifiable-the witnesses could lie for any number of reasons, accusing innocent people. Despite Mather's objections, the testimony was admitted, and twenty-one people were executed. Later, there was a backlash, a big one. I think telepath testimony is comparable. It's good for establishing the possibility of guilt, but shouldn't be admitted without corroborating physical or overwhelming circumstantial evidence." Lee cocked his head. "They teach you that in law school?" "No. I'm something of a history buff." "Write that up for me. It'll sound good on the floor. Can you think of other historical precedents?" "Yes. In Nigeria, in 2002-" "Just write it up." He held out his hand. "Good to see someone earning their pay on the first day. Now, why don't you have a talk with Tom? He can fill you in on the nastier aspects of working with me." He turned back to his vid, but called again before Kevin could get out the door. "Have you been screened?" "Yes, S-ah, Lee. It should be in my vitae." "We'll want to screen you again. in-house. Good to have you on board, Kevin." "Good to be here, Lee." Tom Nguyen stood as the third member of their party approached , a lean fellow the color of black coffee. "Kevin Vacit, may I introduce Akimba Ironheart." "Mr. Ironheart," Kevin said, taking the black-gloved hand. "I hope you don't mind, but it's SOP to have a teep along for these sorts of things. To be candid, assisting Lee is an extremely sensitive position. Even the vice president doesn't have higher clearance." "I understand completely. And I'm aware of Mr. Ironheart's reputation-you worked on the Knorozov trial, didn't you?" Ironheart seemed pleased. "I did." "That was good work." "Thank you." Tom drummed his fingers. "Another reason for Mr. Ironheart's joining us has to do with security above and beyond you. Some of the things I'm going to tell you can't be overheard, and there are a lot of people who would like to overhear, teep and normal alike." Kevin nodded. "The first thing I want to stress is that this job carries some risk. While it's not well known, there have been four attempts on the senator's life in the past fifteen years. None succeeded, and in each case after the first, teeps were able to identify the assassin before his attempt." "I haven't heard about these." "You wouldn't have. Cards on the table, Kevin-you've signed a disclosure document. That's to be taken seriously, and from here on
out it comes into play. But I ask you again, for the record-do you swear to keep the things I tell you confidential?" "I do." He felt a sort of tickle among his thoughts, a faint alien presence. Ironheart nodded. "He's telling the truth." Tom smiled thinly. "Good. Let's go have a look at Teeptown, then." Kevin took in the broad avenue, the carefully sculpted landscape . In the middle distance he could see a mass of scaffolding and lifters busily at work, and beyond that the sharp peaks of the Alps. "Is that EarthDome?" he asked, pointing toward the distant construction. Tom nodded. "It will be. What else could it be? It should be a wonder when it's done." For a moment, a brief regret seemed to flash across his face, then he turned in a slow circle. "This is the metasensory compound." "It looks more like a village." "It is, Mr. Vacit. Some call it Teeptown, as a matter of fact. That's the square, there-bars, restaurants, a few shops. Those larger buildings on the hill there are the dormitories for the children and singles. Married housing is down that way." "I thought it would be more like a military base." "We try to minimize that feel. Teeps are not ordinary enlistees, as I'm sure you know. Most come from civilian backgrounds, and though they find themselves more comfortable here, with other teeps, than they did out in the `mundane' world, we want them to have some of the comforts of the lives they've left behind. If you know the military, you know the people on military bases are always trying to get off base. Most teeps would rather stay here, though, where they are safe. But given that factor of isolation, we try to make life as-you'll excuse me, Akimba-`normal' as possible." Kevin nodded as they walked along. The buildings were mostly new and fresh, unpretentious ceramic brick, a hue removed from natural earth tones, topped with high, pitched roofs. More than anything, the complex resembled some of the self-towns that had sprung up in rural areas over the last few decades--homages to an earlier time. Simulated small towns, as it were. He saw a lot of children, fewer adults, the occasional uniformed cop or func tionary. "Metasensory has four legs, as it were. First and foremost, its function is education. Teeps are taught how to use their powers and how to control them. The younger we get them, the better." "What about the parents of the children?" "It's something of a boarding school. The parents can visit, the kids can go home on holidays-if they're deemed able to control their powers. It's not perfect, but it works. Eventually, most kids end up feeling more at home here than with their parents-I suppose that's inevitable. Of course, most kids who are teeps have at least one parent who is also a teep, so we have whole families here, too. Many of the children were born here. In fact, we'll be having our first secondary school graduating class in just three years. An exciting day." "I look forward to it." "Education goes beyond teep abilities, of course. All of the usual courses are offered, but we try to steer people toward careers for which they are best suited. Here, for instance, we have the school of law enforcement, and there the verbal arts college. And, of course we have a military prep academy. "Me Authority no longer draws on government funds-that makes it one of the most popular programs with taxpayers. We hire teeps out to private business, where they monitor deals-on a mutual-consent basis, of course; to the courts, which I know you are familiar with; and to EarthForce, where they mostly serve in Alliance security." "And Senator Crawford oversees all of this." "It was his dream-one of them, anyway. Lee has many dreams. Yes. Very little happens here without his knowing about it-which means you have to be up on it all. And so now you understand the precautions we are lavishing on you." "I hope I'm found worthy. It's exciting." "Some of our detractors don't think so," Tom said. "I've heard some complain that the senator has too much influence." Tom smiled sardonically. "I don't doubt he is the most powerful man on the planet. I think you're bright enough that I don't have to explain why." "If-may I ask you something candid, Mr. Nguyen?" "You can certainly ask." "You've been his aide for a long time-since the beginning. Why are you-" "It's personal. Very personal. I'll just say that I think Lee deserves a better aide than L" Tom looked down, seeming embarrassed . "He needs someone, Kevin. Someone he can trust. Someone who will always tell him the truth when he needs to hear it. Somewhere along the line, that stopped being me. If you can't do it, get out now. At this point, you haven't seen too much, you don't know too much. You can go your own way." "Does that mean you can't?" "My options are somewhat more limited, for reasons of security . Yours will be, too, if you stay long and then decide to quit. But if you want to be near the throne, there are prices to pay. I've been at the center of the world since back when it spun in a different direction. I can't stay here any longer, but I don't regret a moment of it." Kevin nodded. "As long as we're being honest, can I ask another question?" "Shoot." "The stunfence. The concertina wire." "Ah. You noticed that. Ostensibly, it's for the protection of the teeps. In reality, too-we've had many threats and a few isolated attacks on the complex. The local normals don't much like the teeps. But as with any boarding school, we also have our share of would-be runaways." He paused. "It's not a perfect world, and this isn't the perfect solution." "I wasn't criticizing, just asking. If I'm to do this job, I need all the information." "Just keep an open mind. And don't be fooled by Lee's country- boy act. He's a very sharp old fox, and he just keeps getting sharper." He swept his arms wide. "This is all yours now, Mr. Vacit, and welcome to it." Kevin was left wondering if Tom Nguyen meant Teeptown-or the world.
Babylon 5 10 - Psi Corps 01 - Dark Genesis - Birth Of Psi Corpus (Keyes, Gregory) Page 7