“Mish,” she murmured. “Dr. Mish?”
“She’s coming around,” said a voice.
“Obviously, dolt,” said another voice. “Are the bonds secure?”
“Oh yes, we’ve made quite sure of that, Friend Zarpfrin.”
Zarpfrin. The word instantly triggered her adrenaline to pump, searing off the fog. There, standing in front of her, were the rounded features, the rounded body, the hateful sight of Friend Arnal Zarpfrin.
Screaming, she tried to hurl herself at him, but she could not move.
“So predictable,” said Zarpfrin. “So very predictable, Laura Shemzak.”
“I want to kill you,” she shrieked.
“Of course you do,” he responded calmly. “But really, you should control immediate responses like that. Amazing powers of intuition notwithstanding, that sort of stuff does get you in trouble. And you might hurt yourself, besides.”
Her heart was pumping so fast, she thought she would explode. “Where am I?” she demanded. “Why have you got me tied down?”
It was a medium-sized room with a desk, two chairs, and a great deal of white. It looked like a hospital room—the sort of hospital room where Laura had much of her cybernetic work done, only much more spare, much more utilitarian. A full complement of monitoring screens stretched over the walls and ceiling of the room. Near her head lay a surgical workstation with technical readouts glowing within a full array of apparatus: manipulators, retractors, laser scalpels, suction tubes ….
“I think the reason should be fairly clear, considering your reaction to seeing me,” said Zarpfrin, sitting in a nearby chair and crossing his legs. “I get the distinct feeling you’d like to do something very nasty to me, Laura Shemzak.”
“How about tear out your eyeballs and shove them up your—”
“Now now, you should save your voice, Laura. I really can’t possibly understand this temper you’re in. I mean, you are the traitor to the cause of Truth and Good, not I!”
“Traitor! You fixed me so that I would shoot my own brother and you expect me to be happy to see you?”
“An expedient, Laura,” returned the man casually. “Computer analysis showed the likelihood of you finding Calspar Shemzak far greater than the probability of you actually rescuing him from the aliens. And we could not risk having our enemy keep him. We do regret losing him, but—”
“Well, of course, you wouldn’t know! It didn’t work, Zarpfrin!” she said tersely, almost victoriously.
Zarpfrin’s smile was wiped from his face. “What?”
“Oh, your device worked all right. I plugged my brother good … but it wasn’t really Cal. It was a clone of some kind. The Jaxdron still have Cal, you see. We’re still looking for him. Don’t think, though, that that doesn’t make me hate you any the less!”
“Tricked somehow … ,” Zarpfrin murmured. “Very clever, but how could they anticipate—”
“The Jaxdron have spies all over the Federation!” said Laura. “And apparently they’ve used Pax Industries as a base! They could be here right now—watching us!”
Zarpfrin did not seem overly concerned, which puzzled Laura. “How curious,” he was saying. “Well. Laura. I should think that they’ve used him as much as they can by now. Too late for preventing any kind of knowledge transference. No reason to kill him anymore. How would you like to get him back?”
“What the hell do you think I’ve been trying to do all this time?”
“No, I mean really get him back. That last time you were simply an emissary of convenience.”
“You’re expecting me to trust you again, Zarpfrin, after what you’ve put me through?” Laura spat disdainfully.
“What makes you think you have a choice, Laura?”
“You mean if I don’t, you’re going to toss me into prison here? You seem not to take into account the fact that maybe I’ve got new loyalties now. And you can bet your ass I don’t want to work for you Feddies anymore, despite my heavy conditioning.”
“You’ve been asleep awhile, Laura,” said Zarpfrin. “We’ve had time to—”
He was interrupted by a frantic buzz on a desk communicator. “Yes?” he answered.
“Friend Zarpfrin,” a breathless voice said. “Friend Lasster has released the prisoner. They’ve escaped to the Eagle, blasting several of our ships!”
Zarpfrin went white. “What?” he screamed.
“Interceptors have been alerted but they were on the other side of the planet. There’s no way to pursue them, or to determine where they’ve gone.”
Zarpfrin stood and he held onto the edge of the desk. His knuckles whitened. After a pause and a long deep breath, he said, “That bastard has done me again!”
So they’d caught Northern too! Laura thought. At first she was alarmed, then she laughed. “The best laid plans of lice and men,” she said.
He spun on her furiously. “You forget, we still have you!”
“I don’t know what good that’s going to do!” she flung back. “They’re sure as hell not going to try and get me back, so you can just kiss their tails goodbye!”
Zarpfrin raised his hand to strike her, but then regained control of himself. “No. I want you conscious. And now, there’s no time to waste.” He turned to an orderly. “Get that doctor back in here quickly.”
“Doctor? Don’t feel good Zarpfrin?”
“I’m sorry, Laura. Actually it’s for you—and you may not realize it, but we’ve already started working on the implant. One of the nice things about cyborg integration is that, although it takes years to get a good blippie like you together, once you do, modifications are a snap.”
She tensed. “I’ll kill myself first before you stick something in like last time!”
“Unlikely,” said Zarpfrin. “You are too well-designed a being, Laura Shemzak, to kill yourself. No. This time you’re going to want to do what we request.”
A long-haired, stoop-shouldered man stepped into the room.
“Are you ready for the mod?” Zarpfrin asked, “We must speed this up.”
The doctor was carrying a technical components case. He placed it on the desk and opened it. “Very well.” He did not meet Laura’s gaze.
“Laura, you have been fitted with quite a sophisticated device,” said Zarpfrin. “Consider yourself privileged … this is the first time we have used it in the field. It is designed to work seamlessly with the rest of your implants … only, of course, we don’t want you to know exactly where it is. You’ll see why very soon.”
The doctor stepped over beside the blip-ship pilot and brusquely exposed her well-muscled abdomen. He began to palpate an area in a manner Laura recognized.
Damn! He was going for her drug dispenser!
“As you are aware, the chemical substance known as Zernin was developed to heighten the senses and efficiencies of our blip-ship pilots and counter the negative effects of their implants. No doubt you have experienced unpleasant effects of running low on the stuff, eh, Laura?”
She could feel herself beginning to sweat at the very thought.
“Right now, the good doctor here is going to introduce a chemical into your supply that will not merely negate the effects of the Zernin, but will accentuate the unpleasant feelings of being partially a machine. This will last for only a very short time, Laura Shemzak. Please report to us the effects.”
The doctor, smelling of bay rum and perspiration, had the cavity open. He tapped a small amount of yellow stuff into the receptacle. Then he stepped back and examined his timepiece.
The effect was almost immediate.
A sharp-edged chill spread out from the center of her … out and out in ragged waves of snapping teeth and slashing claws. Laura shuddered and her breathing began to grow sporadic ….
Then the pain began in earnest.
It was like nothing s
he had ever before experienced. She felt as though every fiber of her being were slowly and methodically being shredded. She tried to scream but found herself incapable. She could not move, though she felt movement roiling within her.
Every atom in her body seemed to cry out for her drug.
Suddenly, a rush of calm flowed through her and she regained consciousness again. Though she felt perspiration cooling on her face, and felt the aftereffects of the knots of agony wind through her muscles, her main emotion was a sense of peace, of tranquillity.
The doctor was nearby, his face expressionless. Friend Arnal Zarpfrin tapped his chin thoughtfully, eyes glancing at a graph filled with multicolored waveforms of her vital signs. His expression was one of immense satisfaction.
“Excellent, Doctor. Just as predicted.”
“The new implant is functioning properly then?” the doctor asked in a monotone.
“That’s right.”
“May I go now?” A bit of distaste crept into his voice. He did not look at Laura, acting as though she did not exist.
“Please do, Doctor. I can handle the rest.”
The doctor departed quickly, as though he wanted to get as far away from this nasty business as possible.
Zarpfrin scooted his chair back, rose, and walked over to examine the patient. “No need to talk now, Laura. Just listen. This is very simple. We are going to escort you to your blip-ship, under your guidance of course. You will use it to rejoin your comrades in the Starbow. You will continue with your quest for your captured brother, and all the best to you in your rescue efforts.
“However, you will not mention our little session here. Instead, Laura Shemzak, consider yourself newly rejoined in Federation Intelligence.”
“What?” she muttered weakly.
“Yes. You are our spy in the Starbow. Our operative. As often as you are able, you will report the Starbow’s activities, in whatever manner possible. Naturally, we will wish to follow you to the Jaxdron planet, to assist you if at all possible. In return, should you be able to free your brother Cal, we shall allow you both to retire to a faraway planet under our supervision, of course. That is, if we also have the Starbow, its captain, and its crew under Federation power. You shall work toward this end … but your first priority will be the rescue of your brother.
“Now, I know your rebellious ways. Forget them right now. You have just had a small taste of what will happen should you betray us again, Laura Shemzak. In your cyborg systems, we have added a device which will neutralize the effects of the drug you have become addicted to … the drug Zernin, which allows you to be an efficient blip-ship pilot. This device also monitors every word you speak or write or communicate in any fashion. Certain phrases or thoughts will trigger the release of this neutralizing drug—and you know its effects. Not only that, but you could well die from too much of the stuff. And then who will rescue your beloved Calspar?”
Laura nodded. She felt as though she were crushed. Without Zernin she didn’t even know who she was. She knew that now, and she knew that Zarpfrin had merely tugged on this leash he had connected to her all the time: the drug.
“Yes, I can see that you do understand. And you know now how we have kept our cyborg agents faithful, Laura. You will be provided with more Zernin, by the way. Enough to last you for a small while. But please remember who your supplier is who your supplier will always be: the Federation.” His eyes grew fiery, his voice emphatic. “And never, ever think that you can betray us again.”
Perhaps she could take the blip-ship and hurl herself into a sun, she thought wildly. But she knew she dare not. How closely did the device monitor her words and actions, after all? It might prevent her, and besides, she wanted to live. Even more than to Zernin, she was addicted to life.
She knew she was defeated.
But only for now.
She looked away from Zarpfrin and said, “You had better take me to my blip-ship, then. They’ll be wondering what happened to me.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Cal Shemzak woke with the nightmares stark in his memory.
He was drenched in sweat. The sheets of his bed were twisted and snarled about him.
“Oh, God,” he said as he sat up and leaned his head into his hands. “Oh, my dear God.”
In his hands he felt the tears that were running down his face, tears he had shed in his sleep. He shook his head fiercely, trying to shake off the images, feelings, and sensations.
He had dreamed he had seen his sister Laura … spoken to her. He’d dreamed he had been aboard the strangest spacecraft … dreamed that he had walked down corridors to the heart of an intelligent starship, looked upon wonders beyond words ….
And had then been horribly destroyed.
But how could this be?
Cal Shemzak went to the basin, tapped some water, and briskly washed his face in the cold to rid himself of the clinging horrors.
And the worst of it was, again he had seen it all through more than one set of eyes. Again, he seemed to hear the buzz of some mass mind, as though he were mired into a multiplicity of thought—controlled from outside by something else.
Was it just a nightmare, he thought, looking at his haggard face in the mirror, or something more, something that confirmed his suspicions?
His mind ranged back over the memories now fleeing with wakefulness, and he knew they had been more than nightmares.
A polite knock sounded at the door.
“Pardon me sir,” came Wilkins’ voice. “I let you sleep late because you seemed to have an uneasy time of it last night. But you really should rouse now, sir. Today is, after all, the day of your audience which you’ve so looked forward to.”
“I’m up, Wilkins. How much time do I have?”
“An hour, sir.”
“And you’ll take me to that room 27 or whatever?”
“Indeed, sir.”
“I’ll be ready.”
More ready than they know, thought Cal Shemzak as he went to get a much-needed shower.
At the end of the corridor was a door where before there had only been blank wall.
“If you’ll follow me, sir,” said Wilkins, his usual manservant’s attire brightened by a single pink carnation. Cal had selected his usual gray jumpsuit—his wardrobe held not much variety.
Wilkins turned a doorknob and entered a section of this complex previously inaccessible though quite similar to the rest. They walked past a number of doors, each as featureless as the last, toward an open doorway at the end of the hallway. Halfway there, Cal thought he heard voices whispering from one of the side rooms.
Whispers … a kind of chant ….
And Cal Shemzak could feel a sympathetic chord striking in his mind—an attunement to the chanters.
Before he even knew what he was doing, Cal jumped over to the side door, twisted the knob, and slammed his body against metal.
He had one brief glimpse of Wilkins’ horrified expression before the door frame passed his vision and he tumbled pell-mell into a large chamber, tripping and falling onto the floor.
He saw a field of legs before him, legs attached to bodies seated in rows before desks. Forty some bodies, all apparently male, all dressed in the uniform jumpsuit that Cal wore even now, facing a wall.
“What—” Cal said.
“Sir,” said Wilkins. “You mustn’t be in this room!”
Cal swiftly recovered from his surprise and regained his feet. The walls and ceilings were riddled with protuberances and cylinders and other projections of alien machinery. From the ceiling hung lengths of wire—wire specked with sparkling crystalline, attached to the bald pates of the quietly sitting men.
Cal ran around the group to see their faces.
Could his suspicions have been right? Did this explain his dizzy periods, his feelings of contact with others, his nightmares?
>
He looked and the glazed expressions of the group registered no awareness of him.
Cal Shemzak confronted forty-plus copies of himself. He stood for a moment, stunned.
“Sir,” said Wilkins, advancing towards him. “Your appointment!”
“What’s going on here?” Cal said, retreating, a cold fear parting him slowly away from reason and toward panic. “What total craziness—”
“You can ask the Masters, sir,” said Wilkins in a calming voice. “Now please come—they await you.”
“No,” said Cal, unable to control himself, succumbing to the need to run. “Stay away from me.” He turned to the copies of himself. “Help. You must help me!” he cried.
They opened their eyes, but did nothing.
“Really, sir—”
Cal turned and saw another door, ajar, on the other side of the room. He ran for it.
Get out of here! Get out of here! The thought pounded in his head maddeningly.
He just needed to run … somewhere.
He flung open the door and was about to rush through it when he realized that a creature blocked his way.
The thing was about five feet tall, humanoid and round, with incredibly large eyes, a huge mouth, and a nose like a baby elephant’s. It wore a shimmering lamé-type robe over its bulbous body, and its forelimbs looked like gigantic stalks of celery.
A speaker box hung attached to its robe. Through this small mechanism issued words: “Aha, Mr. Shemzak. We thought you might take this shortcut. A little surprise for you, no?”
Strange lights glowed in its eyes.
Cal stepped back, more surprised than frightened. The creature before him looked more like something out of a cartoon than from the nightmares of millions of frightened colonists.
“You’re—you’re one of the Jaxdron?” he said, voice filled with disbelief.
“Absolutely and with nary a doubt, Mr. Shemzak.” Its proboscis waved languidly and casually, like a gesture of dismissal. “But all that is behind us now! We have no need for puzzles and mysteries any longer. That is why we have called for an audience with you.”
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