Alice sighed. “You're in way over your head. We can help each other.”
I chewed my lip. “Maybe.”
“What I don't get,” she said slowly, “is how somebody could know enough to bind an Eldil without knowing more than you seem to.”
“I didn't bind it,” I pointed out. “My parents did.”
Her stride faltered. “Your parents? When?”
I shrugged. “I don't know. Young enough that I don't remember ever not being like this.”
She stopped dead at that. “Wait a second. Where were you born?”
I hesitated, but couldn't think of any reason not to tell her the truth. “California. L. A. County.”
“You're Adam Chase!”
No one had called me that for twenty years. “How do you know that name?” I could feel Catskinner focus his attention on her.
Godiva almost bumped into me. “You said your name is James,” she accused.
I turned to her. “Did your folks name you Godiva?” I asked.
She looked away. “No,” she said in a very small voice. Her reaction seemed strange, but I was more concerned with Alice.
“What do you know about Adam Chase?” I demanded.
Alice was walking again. “Let's get inside before we say anything else.”
There were a couple of people in the parking lot, mostly coming in, a few going out. None of them seemed to be looking or listening to us, but after the day I'd had I figured paranoia was the better part of valor.
We got three beers and a table against the wall, amid the echoes of clattering pins.
“Adam Chase,” Alice said, looking at me, and shook her head. “Incredible.”
“My name is James Ozwryck.” I told her firmly.
Godiva was looking from me to Alice.
Alice rested her chin on her hand. “Okay, James, you asked me what I know about Adam Chase. He was born in ’74 or ’75, as I recall. His father was Michael Chase, his mother was Sabrina Erikovitch. The two of them were the leaders of a group called Clear Vision World. They wrote a couple of books together. We Pass From View was one, and, uh, The Eternal Odyssey. I can't remember any of the other titles, but I've probably got them back in my library.”
The second book was actually called Mankind's Eternal Odyssey. I nodded for her to continue.
“The Clear Vision World was a fairly straightforward millennial/spiritualist cult. The leaders were in contact with spirit guides from the great beyond who prophesied a coming apocalypse and that a chosen few would be spared to repopulate the new Eden—Michael Chase getting a jump on the repopulation business as usual, aside from Adam he may have had as many as ten other children. The chosen few, of course, being those who heard and believed the guidance of the spirits, because the rest of the world was too wicked, waging war, despoiling the environment, oppressing women and minorities, blah, blah, blah. Very 70s.” She sounded like a lecturer or a schoolteacher.
I nodded again. None of this was news to me, except the bit about Michael Chase's other children, and that didn't surprise me.
“The only child Michael Chase ever officially acknowledged was born to Sabrina Erikovitch. A son. He was going to be the first of the new race of perfect humanity and so in a fit of originality Chase named him Adam.”
She stopped and drained her beer. I did likewise. Godiva sipped hers.
“Michael did something to Adam. There really were spirits that he was in communication with, but the communication was flawed. Human minds aren't designed to accept the perspective of an alien intelligence. Too much exposure damages them. The spirits, outsiders, Macrobes—call them what you will—could influence human thought. They could send dreams and visions clearly enough teach humans new technology. They could even possess human beings, take over their bodies for a brief time, but it was like trying to send high voltage through speaker wire. The human minds would burn out over time, and the closer the connection, the faster they burned.”
I glanced over at Godiva. She was listening very gravely.
“The spirits gave Michael Chase an idea, though,” Alice continued. “An infant's mind is unformed, malleable. By linking together a Macrobe with a human infant, binding them, Michael hoped to create a new kind of human. The voices he heard promised that he would be the father of a new species, human bodies with alien minds, who would inherent the Earth.”
Catskinner's laugh bubbled out of my mouth. “but it didn't work out that way, did it?”
Godiva straightened in her chair, backing away from Catskinner's voice. “What happened?”
Alice looked over at me. I could see her registering Catskinner behind my eyes.
“yes, tell us what happened to michael chase.”
“He was killed in killed in April of 1982. He, Sabrina, and seven other members of Clear Vision World. The only survivor was Adam, who was seven at the time. Of course, the authorities didn't believe that a child could have murdered nine adults, so Adam was placed in an institution. A month later, he escaped, leaving six dead staff members behind him. No one has seen him since.”
I had my body back. “No,” I said softly, “no one has.”
I got up. “You two can make your own way home.” I turned to go.
“Wait,” said Alice.
I kept going.
“James, please,” Godiva said. That made me pause. “Just listen to her.”
I sat back down. I peeled off a couple of twenties and gave them to Godiva.
“Get us some more beer. And some nachos or pizza or something, okay?”
She nodded, then smiled. She was heartbreakingly pretty. I watched her walk away, admiring the bounce in her step, and turned back to Alice.
“So, talk.”
“There's a war going on, James—” she began.
“Between the humans and the Macrobes, I know.” I'd picked up that much.
“No!” She leaned forward, her voice quiet but forceful. “The war is between the outsiders. Most humans have no idea that it's even happening. The outsiders don't care about humans at all—this is just a convenient place to fight. We're not even their foot soldiers, we're their ammunition.”
She leaned back again. “Do you think that the spirit guide who told Michael Chase how to bind Adam cared what happened to Clear Vision World? It didn't tell him what Adam would be capable of. Those things find people who are easily led and already half crazy, and then they spin whatever lies will get things done. They claim to be angels, aliens, spirits, demons, ghosts of dead relatives, whatever they think people will listen to and obey. They do a few tricks, things they know will impress the natives, and send their pets out to fight each other. When their pet humans die, they just go out and get more. We don't even know what they are.”
Her voice was getting strident, she made a deliberate effort to bring it back under control. “Do you understand that? They have been influencing human history for thousands of years, starting wars, building empires, inspiring all manner of atrocities for their own purposes, and we don't even know for certain what the fucking things are!”
“Keith Morgan called them Macrobes,” I said.
She shook her head angrily. “Some science fiction writer made up that word. Morgan is as bad as they are. The crazy ones I can almost feel sorry for, but a man like Morgan who sells his soul with his eyes wide open. . . .”
She paused and Godiva came back to the table, carrying a tray with beer and pizza on it. I had expected her to take longer.
I took a beer, took a long swallow.
“What has all this got to do with me?” I asked.
Alice sighed. “Well, I could say it's because you're a human being.”
“Part of me is,” I corrected her.
“All of James is human.”
I considered that. Nodded. Catskinner was quiet, but I could feel him listening.
“More importantly, though, all of you is in danger.”
“I've got a good track record of taking care of myself.”
> “Against humans, sure,” Alice took a sip of her beer. “But what would you have done if I hadn't broken the barrier effect when I did? You don't know what you're facing. You've kept a low profile for twenty years, you've been lucky. Or maybe the outsiders just didn't want you yet. They don't think on a human time scale, twenty years is nothing to them.”
Is she telling the truth?
she is telling as much of the truth as she understands.
That was the same thing Catskinner had said about Keith Morgan.
What should we do?
avoid decay. live in shelter. survive.
Can we trust her?
“will you seek to make covenant with me?” Catskinner asked Alice.
“No. A simple agreement is all I want.”
My head bobbed up and down, Catskinner trying for a nod. “what do you ask of me?”
A short bark of a laugh. “To start with, please don't kill me.”
“if you do not seek to harm myself or james, i will not kill you.”
“And listen. Listen to what I have to say and make up your own mind about where your best interests lie.”
“reasonable.” And he sank back out of sight. I could feel his attention, but not the hair-trigger tension I felt when he expected violence. It was more that he was simply interested in what the others had to say.
I looked over at Godiva. “Where do you fit in all this?”
She fiddled around before answering. She took a piece of pizza, put it on a plate, set it in front of her. She glanced at Alice, then looked at me, her sunglasses reflecting streaks of neon from the bar. “I was lied to,” she said finally. “I don't know what to believe anymore. I thought Dr. Klein was going to help me—”her voice broke—“help me become what I wanted to be. Instead, she left me. She just left me there, didn't even tell me she was leaving.”
She picked up the pizza, threw it back down. “I can't even eat in public anymore. She made me a freak. She made me a monster.”
I felt like I should say something, but Catskinner spoke first. “be glad,” he said, “in this world you're either a monster or a victim.”
I gasped. I tried to find some way to unsay it. Godiva stared at me, outrage on her features, then she shook her head. “I guess you'd know.”
“Yeah, I would. Story of my life.” I turned back to Alice. “So what's a decent human being like you want with a couple of monsters?”
I'd intended the remark to be cutting, but if she was cut by it she gave no sign. “Mutual protection. Exchange of information.” she said simply.
The pizza was cooling in front of me. I took a piece and ate it. Nobody said anything while I was eating.
Then, “Why did Dr. Klein kill Victor?” I asked.
“Keith Morgan paid her to,” Alice answered. “I don't know why Morgan wanted Victor killed. It's likely he saw Victor as a threat.”
“Why didn't she kill me?”
“She thought she did. A few hours stasis would have killed an ordinary servitor.”
“And I'm an extraordinary servitor?”
“No, a servitor is more like a human puppet. In order to be able to use the human's body the outsider has to rebuild much of the human brain and destroy most of the existing personality. You're not like that, James. You co-exist with the outsider.”
“Because we grew up together.”
“Basically, yes.”
“Dr. Klein said that I was just a puppet.”
Alice nodded. “That's what she believed. That's been her experience.”
A light went on. “The Manchester nest.”
“The nests are the worst. They don't even try to maintain a facade that any human personality remains. One outsider with multiple human hosts, human bodies. Like a hive of insects.”
“Ohh,” Godiva breathed.
Alice looked at her sharply. “You've seen nestlings, then?”
Godiva nodded. “Dr. Klein used them to build the salon.”
Alice sat back. “Interesting,” she said slowly. “I didn't know that. That would have been, what, a year ago?”
Godiva shook her head. “No, not the first time. I mean when she got the place next door and rebuilt. Maybe six months ago?”
“Morgan's been dealing with the Manchester nest longer than I thought.” Alice was half talking to herself. “I wonder if he deals with the others.”
“Dr. Klein said that all the nests bought from him. How many are there?”
“Five that I know about,” Alice said, “Did she say what they bought?”
I tried to remember. “Nettle junk, I think she said. But that might have been what she was buying.”
Alice shook her head. “No, that's a hypnoteratogenic. Nests wouldn't have any use for it.”
She abruptly stood. “It's late. It's been a busy day. How about we continue this at breakfast tomorrow?”
I stood. “Can I drop you off somewhere?”
“I've got a room reserved at your motel.”
That was convenient. Wait a second—
“How do you know where I'm staying?”
She gave me a sideways look just short of an eyeroll. “You checked in with a credit card in your own name.”
“Is it really that easy to find people like that? I thought that was just on TV.”
She shrugged. “Easy? It's doable. You need to know the right people.”
Godiva was standing next to me. “Can I stay with you tonight?” She was very close.
Catskinner was closer, a warm weight on my skin. “I don't think that's a good idea,” I said. “I'll get you a room.”
She nodded and turned away. She looked hurt and I felt for her. I felt for me, too. She was soft and warm and lovely and I very much wanted her to stay with me. I didn't know exactly what she had meant, what she offered, and I never would. Soft and warm and lovely were things that didn't happen to something like me.
I headed to the door. Alice and Godiva followed.
you want her.
Yes.
she's not human.
Neither am I.
she could be dangerous.
So am I.
When we got to the parking lot my body stopped and turned to Godiva.
“james wants you to stay with him. i do not forbid it.” Beautiful. Catskinner's guide to picking up chicks.
Catskinner poured out of my face and I added, “Please.”
Godiva smiled brilliantly, “I won't hurt you, I promise.”
“That's not what I'm worried about.”
She stepped closer and took my arm, looked up at me. Her glasses reflected my face. “I'm not afraid of you.”
That was what I was worried about. She wasn't afraid of me, and she should have been.
Alice was standing nearby, looking around the parking lot like it was her idea to stand there and there was nothing awkward going on at all. I started walking again. Godiva kept a hold on my arm and fell into step with me. She twisted and then my arm was around her shoulders. She felt good there, warm, and she smelled good.
Chapter Ten
“the purpose of life is to expand. each worm intends to engulf the universe.”
As I opened the door to my little motel suite I realized that I hadn't found time to do any shopping for food to stock the kitchenette. For some reason that really bothered me. I felt like I should have something to offer Godiva. Beer, pretzels, mini pizzas made from English muffins and spaghetti sauce—something. Wasn't that what people did when they invited someone into their home? I wasn't real clear on the etiquette.
“I'm sorry,” I said. “I don't have much here.”
She didn't seem to mind, though. She sat her shopping bag on the little round table under the hanging lamp and flopped down in one of the green vinyl and wood chairs that flanked it. She smiled and slipped off her shoes.
“So...” I wasn't sure what to say.
Godiva looked up at me expectantly.
“Alice Mason. Do you figure that's her real name?”
“Real enough.” she shrugged. “It's something to call her, anyway.”
I nodded. I figured names weren't really important, so long as you had something to call people other than “hey, you!” I couldn't quite put my finger on what was important, though. Loyalty? Fealty, maybe? I was used to thinking in terms of me against the world, the idea that there might be sides and that I might be on the same side as someone else was hard to wrap my head around. “Can I trust her, do you think?”
She chewed her lip. Still a cute gesture. “I think she's honest about what she wants.”
“What's that?”
“She wants people free from the Outsiders. Free from their influence. She used to do some kind of anti-cult counseling. You know, deprogramming. I guess she found out some cults have real spirit voices running them.”
I thought about that. Yeah, it made sense. “I can't be free of Catskinner. He's part of me. He's all I've got.”
“I know.” She looked down at the floor. “What I can't understand is what Catskinner wants.”
I opened my mouth to say something—I'm not sure what—and I felt him speaking through me. “continuity of existence. rationality of environment. silence.”
“Safety?” suggested Godiva.
My body nodded. “safety. food, water, air, integrity of circulatory system. sleep without vigilance for james. body of motion, body of light in parallel.”
“What happens to you if James dies?” she asked softly.
“unweaving.”
“You die? You don't go back . . . someplace?”
“there are no places, only patterns.”
“You can only exist as long as James' . . . pattern is safe, then. Only as long as he's alive.”
“yes.”
“And you'll do whatever you have to do to keep him alive.”
“yes.”
“And what about keeping him happy?”
Silence from Catskinner. “I don't think he understands the question.” I said. “Happiness isn't something he can quantify.”
“He doesn't have to quantify it,” Godiva scowled. “He just has to respect it.”
“i respect that james requires environmental elements that i do not perceive directly. is that happiness?”
A blank look, then a chuckle from Godiva. “Yeah, I think that'll do as a working definition for now.”
Catskinner's Book (The Book Of Lost Doors) Page 8