by Kage Baker
Having activated his record function, he began to murmur to himself: “Memo: possible series of adventure holoes for children. Revise history where necessary to make my point but present red-blooded, two-fisted fellows who weren’t afraid to take action. Ladies, too. Joan of Arc, Susan B. Anthony, Edith Clavell, Sally Ride, Araminta Gonzales, Miriam Meyer … High production values, plenty of costumes, color. All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing. Let’s be less passive, kids! Of course, we need a cause for this, something to galvanize them all, some common enemy…”
So absorbed was he in his idea that he very nearly forgot why he had come to that place, and strode down the beach like a juggernaut until he found himself in the middle of a boggy tidal spit, looking across the waters of Drake’s Estero. As he was turning and retracing his steps to dry sand, he heard a throat-clearing noise and looked up.
He couldn’t spot anyone. Scanning, he encountered some kind of scrambler field.
“Well, I’m here,” he announced, and walked in the direction from which he supposed the noise had come. Rocks, sand, seaweed, driftwood, and the dun-colored featureless hills rising beyond. He found a redwood log easily four feet in diameter and leaned against it, sighing.
“Yeah, it’s a little dreary, isn’t it?” said Joseph, popping up from behind the log. “Great place for a private meeting, though, huh?”
Hearst turned to him. Joseph was dressed in complete camping gear: plaid flannel shirt, bellows trousers, hiking boots, and an outdoorsman’s hat with ear flaps.
“I came alone, as you can see,” said Hearst.
“Hey, I knew you would. You’re that kind of guy,” said Joseph cheerily. “So. Hearst News Services had a great three years, huh? Beat the competition to quite a few breaking stories! That must have felt good. Of course, the other stuff I gave you might have got you a little sore at the Company. Those private memos between members of the Board of Directors, for example. Not very nice things they say about us immortals, are they?”
“No,” said Hearst. He’d been outraged when he’d accessed the information, even keeping in mind that it might have been faked to win his support, but he’d managed to bite his tongue and greet Quint as though nothing unusual had happened when Quint returned from his European acquisitions trip. Subsequent quiet investigation strongly suggested that Joseph had faked nothing. “It is mostly the mortals, too, isn’t it? They don’t care for you Old Ones at all.”
“Nope,” said Joseph. “And they aren’t crazy about you, either.”
“Oh?” Hearst frowned.
“Nope. Want to see more proof?”
“Darned right! I understand why they’re afraid of the likes of you, even if they created you. But I’m a stockholder, for heaven’s sake,” said Hearst. “And a special case, remember. And, by the way, you were going to explain about that—?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Hearst, and I’ll be glad to do that, just as soon as I’ve convinced you. I’ll show you what Dr. Zeus plans for 2355, regardless of what may actually happen. Okay? Excuse me a second, here—” Joseph reached up and set the tip of his finger between Hearst’s eyes. “Download.”
Straight into his consciousness the data flowed, for immediate access, not much information content, really; but after scanning through it Hearst stiffened and turned pale. Joseph stood back, looking sympathetic. “It’s a shock, I know,” he said.
“What does that mean, Designated: Removal?” stammered Hearst.
“About what you think it means,” said Joseph. “These are the people who built the Bureau of Punitive Medicine, remember?”
“But why me?” Hearst said. “Why am I on that list?”
“It’s a long story, Mr. Hearst,” said Joseph. “Let’s walk.” They set off along the shore of the estero, picking their way through the dune grass, back into the hills.
“The Company would have gotten rid of you sooner, but you’ve been really useful to them,” explained Joseph. “Your money, that big house of yours where they could stash stuff, your ability to manipulate the public’s perception of reality especially!
“And they knew they were going to need you long before you were even born, see? So your parents were watched closely. Dr. Zeus likes to have ironclad guarantees that history will happen the way it’s supposed to.
“An operative was sent to look after your mother when she was expecting you. The operative—guy named Jabesh—thought he’d have a nice easy job. He was wrong. Your mother miscarried in her first trimester.”
Hearst stopped on the path. “What are you saying?”
“You couldn’t have been born the way you were, Mr. Hearst,” said Joseph quietly. “There were genetic problems. Did your father ever talk about his brother who died young? Anyway, Jabesh panicked. It was his job to see that you lived. So … he broke a few rules.”
“What did he do?” Hearst demanded. Joseph started forward again but Hearst did not follow, so Joseph turned back.
“He … uh … remade you. Out of a field repair kit he had. You know what a DNA chain looks like, right, all those little linky things connecting the spiral, each piece containing part of a person’s genetic code? Apparently you were missing a bunch of stuff, and he … patched the missing places with this other, special material from his field repair kit. And it worked! Your mother never knew what had happened. You were born right on schedule.”
“You’re not talking about recombinant DNA!” Hearst looked aghast.
“No! No genetic engineering,” Joseph assured him. “Don’t worry. Just a repair, see? But with this other special stuff added, you were sort of naturally augmented. It affected your appearance, and your, uh, personality, and a few other things.
“Samples of Jabesh’s work went into the Company vaults, and that’s why you could be the exception to the no-adults rule when they made you immortal. They didn’t have to work from your worn-out eighty-eight-year-old DNA with its replication errors. They did a perfect restoration from the new-minted stuff Jabesh created,” Joseph said.
Hearst was silent. Joseph edged back a few paces, peering up at him worriedly. “I’m sorry, pal. I know it’s got to be an awful shock—”
“Shock?” said Hearst, and Joseph saw in amazement that he had begun to smile. “Why, this is wonderful! This accounts for a lot. I always knew I was different.”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve always had this sense of destiny looming over me.” Hearst began to pace forward again in his excitement, and Joseph scrambled ahead of him, walking backward to stare up into his face. “I never really felt as though I fitted in anywhere but places I made for myself, and now I know why!”
“So you really don’t mind?” said Joseph doubtfully.
“Gosh, how could anyone mind something like this?” cried Hearst. His eyes were shining. “I owe this Jabesh fellow my life! I’d like to shake his hand and thank him.” He paused and looked at Joseph. “Say, do you think I could? Where’s he stationed these days? I could look him up—”
“I’m afraid you couldn’t, Mr. Hearst,” said Joseph. “He’s one of the ones who’s disappeared.”
“What?” Hearst’s grin faded.
“He’s lost.” Joseph held out his hands in an apologetic gesture. “Unaccounted for. The last entry in his personnel file has him being transferred to a numbered site, which probably means the Company doublecrossed him.”
“But why?”
“Because he knew the truth about you, I guess. Only two operatives ever knew—Jabesh and me—and he’s disappeared and the Company would disappear me, too, if it could catch me. I’ll bet even Quintilius wasn’t told everything.”
“But why go to such trouble to hide the truth?” said Hearst.
“Because what Jabesh did was illegal as hell,” said Joseph. “The Company does things to obtain its objectives that contravene all kinds of laws. Jeez, even making cyborgs like me is prohibited!
“Can you imagine how mortals would react to learning that somebo
dy like you existed, especially when you’ve built up a communications empire that controls what they see and hear? For crying out loud, a lot of people said you were a monster when you were mortal! What would they think now?”
Hearst scowled. Joseph gulped for breath and continued: “But if you disappear too, eventually—it’s all taken care of. The Company won’t get into trouble.”
“No,” said Hearst. “The Company is in trouble.”
“Hey, that’s the spirit,” said Joseph, grinning, but his voice was just a little uneasy. “We knew you wouldn’t take this lying down. That’s why we approached you in the first place, Mr. Hearst.”
Hearst leaned down to look him in the eye. “You said that when this fellow repaired me, he used special material. What was special about it, Mr. Denham?”
“That’s a good question, and I’m glad you asked,” said Joseph.
“I look nothing like you or any other immortal I’ve ever met,” said Hearst. “You all blend in, you don’t stand out. Unlike me.”
“Yeah. You’ve hit the nail on the head, as usual, Mr. Hearst. See—the Company conducted some breeding experiments a long time ago,” said Joseph.
“How long ago?”
“Oh, before I was even born.” Joseph looked uncomfortable.
“But you’re over twenty thousand years old!”
“Yeah,” said Joseph, bending down to pick up a piece of driftwood. “Wow, look at this, it’s shaped exactly like a duck. Neat, huh? Yeah. This was way back when Neanderthals and Cro-Magnons were running around. The human gene pool had a lot more options in those days. The Company was just getting its field operations up and running. But it had a little problem.
“There was this nutty religious movement that got started among the mortals. It was really fanatic and violent, okay? And anti-technological, too, I might add. They didn’t think much of the invention of fire, and something like a Clovis point would have really outraged them. They wanted to keep the universe simple.
“Anyway—here the Company was, waiting for human civilization to get started, and it didn’t look like it was ever going to do that, thanks to these tattooed murdering loonies, who called themselves the Great Goat Cult. So … Dr. Zeus decided to fight fire with fire.”
“What do you mean?”
“They needed soldiers,” said Joseph wearily. “We Preservers were no good for the job. We’re programmed to avoid dangers at all costs. So the Company set up this huge breeding program. They crossed Neanderthal and Cro-Magnon, and a couple of other races who didn’t make it into the fossil record. When they got the results they wanted they took the children away—they only took males—and made them immortal warriors. They called them Enforcers.”
“Are you saying that’s what I was made from?”
“Yeah.” Joseph looked up at Hearst, turning the bit of driftwood in his hands. “And it shows. You believe absolutely in everything you do. You’re big, you’re powerful, and … “Joseph cast about for a better word than frightening. “Something about your appearance impresses people. You must have noticed.”
“All my life,” said Hearst. “Do I look like an Enforcer?”
Joseph shook his head. “You still look like a human being, Mr. Hearst. There’s some resemblance around the eyes, maybe. And your voice! They were all tenors and countertenors, because of the way their larynxes were positioned. You inherited that.”
“I notice you’re using past tense,” said Hearst.
Joseph nodded. “The Company doublecrossed them, same as it’s doing to its Preservers now. Out of three thousand men, only two officers escaped the purge, one of ‘em because the Company put him to work in a secret place, doing stuff they thought nobody’d ever see.”
Hearst’s eyes widened. “Do you mean the Bureau of Punitive Medicine? Marco was an Enforcer?”
“Yeah.”
“But he’s evil!”
Joseph tossed the piece of driftwood away. “Mr. Hearst… the devil’s in Hell, punishing sinners God sent there because God wants them punished. That’s the devil’s job, inflicting fire and the worm on all those screaming souls. He’s obeying God’s will, right? So would you say the devil is evil?”
“… Yes! Because he disobeyed God in the first place,” said Hearst a little desperately.
“Marco disobeyed, too,” said Joseph. “That’s why he got stuck with that job at the Bureau. Mind you, he really did like to hurt people, but there was no doubt in his mind he was working in a righteous cause. He escaped just before Suleyman liberated the Bureau. Christ only knows where he found to hide, but I hope I never run into him in a dark alley.”
“I don’t want to have any part of those creatures in my blood,” said Hearst. “Not if they were capable of such things!”
“Oh, they weren’t all like Marco,” said Joseph. “The best of them were heroes. They had a moral code. They served humanity by executing its criminals. As long as the Enforcers were around, there were never going to be wars. Any mortal who tried, died.
“You know how I became immortal? The Great Goat Cult massacred my family. I saw my mother killed, just before an Enforcer patrol came along and caught the Goats in the act. Wiped ‘em out. I looked up and saw my salvation in this big ugly guy, reaching down his bloody hand to me.”
Joseph’s voice was resonant with emotion. For a moment Hearst saw past his absurd costume, and caught a glimpse of the creature centuries had cast up on this strange shore. He cleared his throat. “You said two Enforcers escaped. What became of the other one?”
Joseph smiled. “Oh, he’s still around. The Company couldn’t break him.”
“Was he one of the good Enforcers?” Hearst asked.
“He was the best. The biggest, the smartest, and in fact the very guy who saved my life, which makes him my father, as we’d say, since recruiting new operatives is the only way we reproduce. In a way, he’s your grandfather. You want to meet him?”
“Yes,” said Hearst. But he was not prepared for what happened next.
Ten meters away from where they stood, the hillside moved. Hearst whirled around to stare. He cried out in horror. A massive figure was detaching itself from the landscape, a thing the color of the dun grasses and dead wood and stones; yet it wasn’t transparent, was not wearing camouflage but merely faded dull clothing. He realized it had been sitting there, perfectly motionless, from the beginning of the conversation.
And now it was pacing forward with the steady inexorability of a rolling wave, and Hearst drew back at its approach.
The body looked human enough, though immense; still, there was something wrong in the articulation of the powerful arms. And from the neck up—
Not human at all, no, impossible, the wide head had a flattened shape like a helmet, the wide brow sloped straight back, and the clean-shaven face below was far too big. Huge broad cheekbones and an enormous domed nose. The mouth had an equine quality, wide and forward-projecting, suggesting immense teeth. The jaw was heavy, powerful, somewhat underslung. The hair, which was the same dun color as the hillside, began far back on the brow and was worn long, bound behind, flowing down the back like a horse’s tail. But there was a human intelligence looking calmly out from under the heavy brow ridges. The eyes were the palest blue Hearst had ever seen, almost colorless.
It walked up and stopped, looking down at Hearst. Hearst fell to his knees, unable to speak, staring transfixed.
“Get up,” said the creature, chuckling. “I wasn’t made to be worshipped. Only feared and obeyed.” It had a soft high voice, the sort of voice you might expect an angel to have, but oddly flat and toneless.
Hearst struggled to his feet at once, his long coat flapping. “My God,” he said shrilly. “What are you?”
“Weren’t you listening to him?” The creature put a hand on Joseph’s shoulder. “You know what I am. And now, you know what you are.”
“Father, allow me to introduce William Randolph Hearst,” said Joseph. “Mr. Hearst, allow me to introduce my
father, Budu.”
“H-hello,” said Hearst. Budu smiled at him. Hearst’s eyes widened. He had never seen teeth that big in his life and the dentition was certainly not human. Joseph laughed.
“Boy, this is really something. Look at the two of you! It isn’t exactly what you’d call a family resemblance and yet, you know, there’s just this indefinable je ne sais quoi, a certain titanic quality—”
“Shut up, son,” said Budu.
“Okay.”
“Well, Hearst,” said Budu, “you’ve heard what my son had to tell you. You’ve seen his proof. What do you think of Dr. Zeus Incorporated now?”
Hearst gulped and composed himself in haste. “I—I think they’re treacherous. Evil. Absolute power has corrupted them absolutely. That’s what I think of them. Sir!” he added.
Budu nodded, considering him. “I’m going to punish them,” he said. “They have betrayed the mortal race they created me to serve. The mortals among them will die in blood and flame. They’ll be luckier than the immortals in their number. You have resources I need for this judgment. What will you say if I tell you I require your service?”
Hearst fought the urge to kneel again. “I’d say yes! I mean—yes, yes, I’ll help. What do you need me to do?” he said, and to his dismay felt tears forming in his eyes. He couldn’t ever remember when he’d been so frightened, and yet so irrationally exhilarated. “Please, sir. Anything.”
“You can solve some of my logistical problems,” said Budu. “I need a troop carrier big enough for three thousand men.”
“Why, I’ve got a superyacht that’ll carry that many,” Hearst said. “The Oneida Six. She’s at your disposal, sir, whenever you want her!”
“Thank you,” said Budu.
“And we have to lay our hands on three thousand pairs of pants,” said Joseph. “All triple-X sizes. You own any Mr. Tall or Big clothing outlets?”