Beasts Ascendant: The Chronicles of the Cause, Parts One and Two

by Randall Farmer

  Tonya snorted a single chuckle. “Once we get Esther and Addie out, we need a new region president and Council rep, and we need to get our candidates all lined up and ready to go.”

  “Oh, no. You’re about to try and recruit me for something.”

  Tonya ignored Gail as if she hadn’t spoken. “For Council rep, we need somebody sharp with the right politics, but the big thing a Council rep needs is top of the line charisma. You can run a region with only mid-level charisma if you push it, but for Council rep, somebody’s got to be able to face off with the other Council reps, and without top-end charisma, she’s going to get run over. That’s you, Gail.”

  “Tonya!” Gail took a deep breath. “I’m too high profile already as head of the Network. They’re calling me the Director, now, out here in the Midwest. I’ve already been shot once.”

  Tonya didn’t appear to care. “Think about it, Gail. For Council, there’ll be me, Connie Webb, and, hopefully, Pearl Innkeep if things go well in the South.” A black Council rep. That would be a first. No wonder Tonya had included Pearl in their now-defunct conference call. “I’ve got a few options for at-large Council reps, and every one of them possesses top of the line charisma. You’d be perfect. You’ve got the charisma, you’ve got the smarts, and having you in there will help our relations with the other Major Transforms.”

  “They – hell, Tonya, you – will end up having to do to me what the Council did to Claunch six years ago. That’s too much power in one person’s hands.”

  “You won’t own the Network forever,” Tonya said. “So, who else do you think is appropriate?”

  “Linda Cooley.”

  “Region President.”

  Tonya let the words sit there, flat. Gail rubbed her forehead and switched the phone to her other ear. She had suggested Linda to Tonya, so she couldn’t blame anyone but herself. She searched her minds for other Focuses who might qualify. “Pauline Singer.”

  “Heck, no. Pauline’s completely owned by Esther.”

  “Vonda Lewis?” Vonda was Gail’s favorite mentoree Focus.

  “I know you love her dearly, but she’s too young and too screwy.” Six months in, she figured out how to impress pseudo-charismatic hints on objects. Gail sighed, as Tonya did have a point. Gail and her people were still trying to figure out Vonda. The latest guess was that she possessed both the Shamanistic and Object affinities, but they hadn’t found a way to test their idea yet.

  “Tillie Martin?”

  “Give Tillie two more years. Remember what you were like in the first year after your charisma came in?”

  Ouch. The term ‘next to useless’ came to mind, complete with Gail’s own ‘bull in a china shop’ routine.

  “Allison Silvey?”

  “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

  “All right, not Allison. But, Tonya, I can’t do everything.” Gail sighed. “Thanks for thinking of me. I’m flattered you’re considering a Focus of my relative youth for such a position. But I’m going to need to say ‘no’. Hocutt’s beyond saving, no question about that. Esther, though, pond scum that she is, never won Adkins’ trust the way Hocutt did. Without Addie’s blackmail operation backing her up, I think she’ll behave like a real human being. I think she’s worth saving.”

  “Gail, Esther is the Cause’s most dangerous enemy left among the Focuses.” Gail didn’t know the details, but Webberly’s young Arm corps had found and captured Focus Fingleman and delivered her to Connie Webb two days before Haggerty left Chicago. “She’s going to be gunning for you. How are you going to do any of your jobs with her working against you?”

  “I’m not so sure she’ll be gunning for me, Tonya. She’s cooperating with me on the juice music teaching project,” Gail said. “There isn’t anything more ‘Cause’ than that.”

  Tonya sighed. “Well, we do have a little time. Think about this, Gail. I’m not going to press you for this now, but think about it. And watch your back.”

  ---

  “Zielinski,” Gail said, after he entered her Littleside office. He looked over to her and bowed his head, focusing on her shoes. She turned from the sideboard, where she had been arranging mimeographed handouts for her next class, and sighed at a manila folder that slid off its stack and splayed hand-scribbled notes and typewritten income reports across the floor. Her Littleside office had been clean just an hour ago!

  The mess followed Gail around, wherever she went.

  “Ma’am,” he said. She wasn’t sure what moved Carol to find her in the Dreaming last night. Probably Elspeth’s capture by the Hunters. In any event, after they exchanged bad news, Carol told her to move Zielinski to Inferno.

  Gail hoped he could cope. Inferno was up to something, she could feel it. Retribution or payback or something devious to cope with the way she dropped their household tag on her after only three hours. Probably some attempt at leverage.

  “I’m formally moving you from Abyss to Inferno,” she said.

  “Ma’am?” The damned quack even talked like a junior Arm these days. He continued to eye her feet.

  “It may not sound like much, as I’ll still be supporting you at the juice level, but it is. Inferno isn’t Abyss. Inferno requires a life-commitment that some find daunting.” She handed Zielinski the note. “Give this to Connie and get her and her team to do the usual Inferno induction ceremony. I’ve arranged the necessary juice.” For the induction ceremony, a funeral. She smiled. “That will be all.”

  He turned and walked away, a figurative jig in his step. Had he been trying to arrange this? It sure looked that way. Idiot. She shook her head and left her Littleside office, off to teach her morning juice music class. An Inferno cleaning crew slipped in behind her, to make another cleaning pass.

  “Run that by me again,” Gail said. “You’re doing what?” Van ought to know he shouldn’t catch her off guard like this. Not before some fancy drummed up meeting with the Inferno leadership that reeked of conspiracy and disaster. She put down her lunch sandwich and stood, looming over him from behind her office desk. She always returned to the Branton after her morning juice music class at Littleside, but today the usual feeling of reduced stress didn’t materialize.

  “I’ve decided to help Inferno with their next venture,” Van said. He sat in her office’s desk chair, perfectly formal and fresh from the shower. “I need to spend some time on my own, away from here, some place where I can think.”

  That’s what he said the first time, not quite word for word, but close enough.

  “No, you’re not. I need you here,” Gail said. He had responsibilities. He was her head diplomat and a part of the Abyss leadership team. He currently spent an average of four hours a day dealing with the recalcitrant Chicago Focuses and making sure her Focus students didn’t lack for supplies.

  “You seem to be doing well on your own,” Van said. “You’re firmly settled in with the Director position and confident in your decision making. I need some space to think about some ideas that I’ve been working on…”

  “What are you talking about?” Gail tried to soften her demeanor, but the effort didn’t fully take. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day already.” A perfunctory apology. “Is this some problem you’re having with me?”

  Van wiped sweat off his brow, and took a deep breath. “You’re a Focus, Gail, a powerful Focus with many responsibilities. I’m one of them, like it or not, and you’re handling all your responsibilities in a forceful fashion, these days.”

  “Shit,” Gail said, and caught herself before she growled at him again. This was her husband, not some damned Inferno Transform with delusions of grandeur. She still felt unbalanced from yesterday’s household tag experiment, and she suspected Inferno plotted to sweetly blackmail her into accepting the household tag on a permanent basis. But what was Van talking about, then, with this ‘next venture’ business? Not only did this annoy the crap out of her, it didn’t make much sense. “I screwed something up again? Tell me!”

  “I wouldn’
t say you’ve screwed up or made any mistakes,” Van said. “You’ve chosen a particular path of personal development as a Focus, and…”

  “What fucking right do you have to criticize my personal development as a Focus!” Gail said, her temper slipping past her charismatic control. She was sick and tired of Van’s nattering about this and that, especially about the use of her Focus capabilities. Sick and tired of everyone else’s comments on them, as well. At least the rest of her Abyss household leadership team supported her and her choices, though that made them the only ones. Gail paused, and forced calmness into her voice. “I’m the Focus, not you.”

  Van nodded, his expectation met. “Agreed,” he said. “I’ll be leaving, now.”

  “Fine,” Gail said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  He quietly shut the office door, and Gail stewed and stewed…and only after the knock that announced the arrival of the Inferno delegation did she realize that Van, her husband, had left her. Walked away from their marriage. The absolute last thing she wanted to happen, the thing she would normally have been willing to give anything to prevent.

  He had walked out the door, and she didn’t even say a word.

  She hadn’t even noticed.

  To Rescue a Focus (1/18/73)

  “This isn’t how things are done,” Gail said, after Annette Sadie Tucker’s appalling presentation. She sat herself down in her office chair and used her charisma to calm herself. Inferno’s new idea was, well, a revolution, a revolt, something traitorous or other. Next thing, she suspected they would want to start moving the juice for her, or something equally unnatural. “Under Council rules, you need the permission of three Council members to intervene in a Focus household. A Focus’s household is her own private business. You can’t decide to do this on your own.”

  The four household leaders of Inferno all stood in Gail’s office – Connie Yerizarian, Ann Chiron, Tim Egins and Sadie. With them stood the newest Inferno Transform, Henry fucking Zielinski, the assistant Inferno research director as of two hours ago. Gilgamesh hid behind Connie, radiating disquiet and disgust. After Van’s performance a few minutes ago, she half expected to see Van here, standing with Inferno. No, what she got was Zielinski, who as a baby Transform wasn’t up for this style of confrontation. He looked half-ready to die.

  Sadie chewed her lip for a moment before signalling to Connie to take over. Of all the disasters Gail expected, a crazy Sadie idea hadn’t been high on her list. Sadie, who Gail mentally analogized to Melanie as far as their household superorganism positions went, didn’t often intrude into business outside of the Inferno household, but when she did, the household always backed her. “All well and good, Focus,” Connie said. “However, these Transforms kept their Focus enslaved for over five years, and from Focus Adkins’ testimony we know that when Focus Cooley asked the Council to intervene, Patterson personally nixed the attempt. They fined Cooley ten thousand dollars for even asking.” She paused. “So this isn’t the Focus’s household we’re interfering with, this is the household’s Focus. And, if you recall, households have no rights, according to the Focus Council.

  “This is anarchy, if anyone can order this kind of intervention,” Gail said. “What if Focus Weiczokowski decided I was mistreating my Transforms, and they needed to be liberated? A single Focus shouldn’t have that authority.”

  “Well, actually, you do, as head of the Network,” Connie said. “That’s why we’re here asking for your blessing. However, we’re doing it whether you support us or not. It’s time household Transforms won the freedom for collective action.” The hammer and sickle of the Inferno revolution. Fallout from their real Focus, Lori, permanently cutting them loose. “This is our job. We have more plans after this. We’re going to earn the right to act on our own whether the Council supports us or not. And we’re not going to go to the Council every time we need to tie our shoelaces differently.”

  Gail found Connie difficult to deal with professionally, and Connie’s annoyance with her had only gotten worse over time. She hadn’t expected anything like this scheme, though.

  “You won’t need me after you succeed,” Gail said. The only one with the nerve to nod was Ann Chiron. Chiron had disliked Gail ever since the first day they met and Lori Lady Death-ed Gail and humiliated her. Chiron wanted free of Gail, and Sadie had found her the necessary method.

  Everyone else in the crowd squirmed, except for Gilgamesh. Considering they just took her husband and half of the Transforms in her household, or planned to, they ought to squirm. Gail glared at Gilgamesh. “Tell me you’re not going with them.” Losing her Crow partner to this insanity would be perfect.

  Gilgamesh shrugged. “I am, and I’m not.” He stepped around Connie and faced Gail. Gail arched an eyebrow, and didn’t speak. She knew how to deal with Crows. “I’m going with them when they liberate Focus Wilhelmina Minton,” Gilgamesh said. “I’ve wanted to free her for years. Once Focus Minton is freed, I’m going to scrape as much of the hardened dross off of her as I can. When I finish, Inferno is on its own.”

  “So this is your idea, not Sadie or Ann’s?” Gail said, surprised. Ann was just enjoying herself as Gail took blow after blow.

  Gilgamesh nodded, not the least bit embarrassed. “Midgard and I promised each other we would do this someday. We were idiots to make the promise, given we were hiding in a waterlogged culvert in Chicago, scared out of our minds after Echo chased us out of St. Louis, back when Carol was a baby Arm and stuck in the St. Louis Detention Center. Sadie and I, um, we’ve been talking about finding a way to rescue Focus Minton ever since.”

  What, five or six years of talking? “I understand,” Gail said. She knew about Sadie and Gilgamesh; Sadie being the first woman Transform Gilgamesh met as a baby Crow, and how Sadie was the only Inferno Transform Gilgamesh ever got close to. And how Sadie disliked Sky. And how Sadie remained Gilgamesh’s closest confidant in Inferno. “In that case, this isn’t such a hideous break from past precedents. Not with four Major Transforms involved.”

  “Four?”

  Gail smiled a false Beth smile. “Why, sure. If Guru Gilgamesh is involved, I’ll need to join him as the Network head, and I can talk Acting Midwest Region President Focus Cooley and the Acting East Region Vice-President Focus Caruthers into helping, as well.” At least Gail could use the fact that Tonya essentially fired the former Region Presidents last night for something good.

  Gail smiled at the Courtier when he entered her office, decided ‘what the hell’, and gave Dan a big hug. He had filled out since she last saw him, and grown a short beard. “Hey! I somehow missed you at the big shindig in the Adirondacks.”

  “You were too busy with the Crow insanity,” Dan said. “So, he’s here?”

  Gail turned to Sylvie, who had escorted Dan in. “Yes,” Sylvie said. “Five different sightings, including one assassination attempt, two counts of mail theft, and he was twice caught cadging free lunches at the Littleside cafeteria.”

  “And you’re good enough to pick me out in the Dreaming?” Dan said, eyeing Gail. He stroked his beard. “That’s scary good for a Focus of your age.”

  “I’m scary good,” Gail said, dimpling. “Don’t count on me, though, for protection. I can’t get into the Dreaming in the Branton, only at Littleside. I spend too much time awake these days, anyway.” He nodded. “Here’s your ID and background. You’re Robert Newhouse, a private in the late Focus Keisterman’s household, and an expert bodyguard with a police officer’s background. You’re here on loan, supposedly, to help guard me from whoever took a shot at me in St. Louis.”

  “You suspected he was behind that?”

  “Gail doesn’t, but I do,” Sylvie said. “You don’t?”

  “Show me the evidence,” Dan said. “It’s far too easy to start blaming him for everything, which I can guarantee, from personal experience, will mess you up.”

  “I’ll show you some evidence,” Sylvie said. “Copies of Arm Haggerty’s research notes.”

  Th
at put a big smile on Dan’s face. He turned to Gail. “This is what you meant by making this worth my while?”

  “Actually, I was thinking of something a bit more useful,” she said. “I was thinking of seeing if I could teach you juice music.”

  The Dream (1/19/73 – 1/21/73)

  “Forget it,” Focus Ellen O’Donnell said. Gail stayed in the back of the common room, close enough to hear, but far enough away to make it clear she wasn’t the person in charge of the rescue. The room was the combined living room and dining room of a one-bedroom apartment. Clean, if sparsely furnished, evidence of an organized, poor household. If Gail didn’t know better and only saw this room, she would consider the place well run. Linda, Gerry and all their bodyguards stayed in the back as well, a veritable extra army if they ended up needed. Focus Minton’s Transforms occasionally glanced their way and blanched.

  Connie, Ellen and Gilgamesh had lined up against the long wall of the broken-down apartment as many of Focus Minton’s Transforms as they could rustle up. Twenty-five Transforms, seventeen women and eight men, plus twelve normals and fourteen kids. The kids were off in another room in a different apartment, where they wouldn’t be exposed to what went on here.

  Ellen had questioned the captive Transforms for a whole five minutes before she threw up her hands in despair. “I want a new household, but I’m not desperate. I’m more than willing to start over with random fresh-from-the-clinic Transforms. Not these, though. I don’t like their taint.” So much for Gail’s bright idea for a household switch. She thought Minton’s people would be what Ellen wanted – strong willed and loyal to their household. Ellen’s people were just what Focus Minton would need – a household broken by the first Focuses and who wanted and needed absolution.

  Focus Minton’s Transforms were more than a little disgusting, now that Ellen gave Gail a reason to examine them. These Transforms were as hard as old leather and as nasty as a bleeding ulcer. They needed to be to keep Focus Minton enslaved, and they kept their Focus enslaved with a harsh brutality.