The female rising from the cracked shell now wore a black suit; instead of the usual Mayan headdress, a small Donovanian quetzal perched atop her head. Two larger quetzals curled up from behind her shoulders. In her hands she carried a rifle, and at her hip the tripartite Way glyph was clearly visible.
“I don’t understand,” she said softly, and glanced at the skull.
Her mother’s voice—so long out of time and place—whispered from the skull’s mouth. “This is the final choice. If you refit the broken pieces, it will be to create something new. Something dangerous.”
“And if I don’t want to?”
“Then you can drift away into the Dream and remain in Xibalba. But you will do so as yourself. The old Talina. The one locked inside this skull. Resurrection doesn’t come without a cost. You will never be the same again.”
“It’s about saving the knowledge,” Rocket told her from where he watched, his three eyes studying every move her hands made with the potsherds.
“Stay here in the kitchen,” Demon told her. “How many times do you want to eat Allison’s baby? Bury Mitch? Bury Cap? You put that pot together, you will be ‘Other’ for the rest of your life. A thing that is constantly apart.”
She glanced again at the skull. Remembered the spit that had landed on her palm and how it smelled of peppermint. The way it magically had absorbed into her skin.
“Just because you reassemble the pot,” Mother’s voice warned her, “doesn’t mean you’ll ever find your way back.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time a person remade reality only to discover it didn’t lead to any place they’d ever been before.”
“Think Freelander,” her demon quetzal told her. “You could end up just as lost.”
Uncertain, Talina stared at the broken fragments of the bowl. If she reached out, took a first shard and fitted it to the second, she was condemning herself to finish.
“And if you get the order wrong,” the skull reminded, “if you fit the pieces together and leave one out, you will never be whole again.”
“It’s got to be done in exactly the right order,” Rocket insisted. “Even the little pieces.”
“She’s not that smart,” Demon muttered as if to himself. “Since when has Talina Perez ever been about the details? This is delicate work. How can a woman who’s spent her life as a hammer succeed at something this intricate?”
“Oh, go fuck yourself,” Talina growled, reaching for the first two pieces.
64
Dortmund carefully checked his bandage. The wound in his arm was like nothing he’d ever experienced. It looked horrible enough to make him queasy. The damned thing ached, throbbed, and really hurt. The worst he’d ever been wounded in all of his days was a sliced finger when a knife got away while opening a package. That he’d been stabbed by an alien claw was still settling into his shocked brain.
Across the room, Trish sat before the radio. Dortmund had been listening in, first regarding the state of Talina’s coma, and second, it appeared that the whole of Port Authority was in a growing ferment.
“Wasn’t but a half hour ago that the scorpion walked in and told Two Spot to shut the radio down in the admin dome. I’m not sure that Benteen knows the hospital has its own frequency, or if he’s going to want to shut it down even if he does.”
Shig ambled across the room, leaned over Trish’s shoulder, and asked, “Raya? What are you hearing from the people?”
“Confusion. Disbelief. Have to tell you, Shig. Most are down at Inga’s drinking and talking about it. Kalico Aguila is staying over—including her marines. She’s put two on guard here at the hospital in case things get out of hand. Others are standing guard at Inga’s, the cafeteria, the foundry, Sheyela’s, the food warehouses. Pretty much every place that’s really important for the survival of the town.”
“And to think I wanted to poison that woman back when she arrived here,” Yvette said to herself as she listened from the old beat-up couch.
“So, after thinking about it,” Trish asked, “what do you want us to do with Talina?”
“As long as she’s stable, doesn’t demonstrate any distress in her breathing, I’d say it’s not worth the risk of a night flight, Trish. I’d wait until morning. Then fly her in. Radio ahead and I’ll have Step and Dya ready. You can drop down at the main entrance. Step and Dya can evacuate Tal, and you can dust off for the back country again.”
“I’ll have to recharge. Not enough juice to make a round trip.”
“Right. How about you drop Tal, dust off, land again at the aircar field, and take Step’s unit while yours recharges. Given that PA is about to come apart at the seams, he’s not going anywhere.”
“Roger that. I’ll give you a call in the morning just to make sure. And if Tal takes a turn for the worse, I’ll just fly her in using the night gear.”
“Okay. Sleep tight out there. And, by all of our lucky stars, hopefully you bring Tal to a quiet and boring hospital. If something goes wrong, and I’m overwhelmed by wounded, I’ll wave you off.”
“Roger that. Catch you in the morning.” Trish thoughtfully replaced the mic and shut the radio down to monitor mode. She pushed back, stared thoughtfully at Shig and Yvette. “Well, that’s that.”
Shig chuckled to himself, wandered into the kitchen, and poured himself a cup of mint tea. “This will be most fascinating to watch.”
Dortmund, still poking at his bandage, said, “I spaced with Advisor Benteen. It was bad enough just being in a room with him, and that was before we knew who he was. The very knowledge that he is Artollia Shayne’s pet assassin and monster sends chills down my spine. You were wise to walk away, but it amounts to surrendering your people to a beast.”
“Damn straight,” Trish growled.
Yvette leaned forward on the couch, a cup of tea on the table beside her. “Dr. Weisbacher, is conservation biology an abstract?”
“Absolutely not. You know my record, my efforts at re-wilding. Each of those re-wilding compounds was built upon a sound theoretical background established by years of research and—”
“So is political science,” the woman snapped, cutting him off in midstream. “You’re a product of The Corporation’s mind-numbing indoctrination, so I doubt that you’ll understand this, but when it comes to Benteen, it’s up to the people.”
“What do they have to do with anything?”
Shig said mildly, “Like you, we are working from established theory. How does one run a libertarian society if the people are not responsible for their own governance?”
“You’re leaving it to the people to appeal to the tender mercies of the scorpion? You should be there, directing them, showing them the way to resist.”
Yvette said, “Had we stayed, Benteen would have turned us into tools. Used us against the people. One way, we’d have had to abet him in his takeover of the town. Become unwilling participants. The other way, he would have executed us to achieve the maximum psychological impact on the population. By leaving, we have dealt him the heaviest blow we could.”
“Be giving him free rein?”
Trish seemed to stumble upon a sudden revelation. “Holy shit. I thought you were crazy when you just handed everything over.”
“Doesn’t mean we’re not,” Shig told her through a benevolent smile.
Trish laughed, looked at Dortmund. “You see, don’t you?”
“Enlighten me,” he told her dryly.
“Benteen’s a Corporate animal. Like you. Raised in the system. He’s expecting Port Authority to run like a smaller version of the Corporate machine. That’s how the whole rest of Solar System functions. Everyone in their place. Following orders. Following the plan.”
“And?”
Shig spread his hands wide. “Yvette handled the day-to-day administration. I acted as the liaison between disparate parties. Sort of the informa
tion broker, keeping track of who was doing what, teaching part time, keeping my thumb on the pulse of the community. Tal, and then Trish behind her, were the security. That’s all gone.”
“But who’s going to take care of the people?” Dortmund repeated stubbornly.
Shig smiled. “That’s the whole point.”
“I still don’t get it.”
Yvette told him, “The fundamental underlying assumption of libertarian philosophy is that the people can take care of themselves.”
“That’s absolutely insane. Over a hundred years of Corporate government have proven that it’s the most efficient, responsible, and compassionate evolution of population control ever invented.”
“Key word,” Trish told him. “Control.”
“You don’t know Benteen like I do.”
“Actually, we know him better, but we can leave that argument behind for the moment.”
“Your people need to be informed about the kind of man they’re dealing with. If they don’t do as he says, he won’t hesitate to kill a couple dozen of them to make the point.”
Shig’s expression lined. “Yes, that’s the risk they take by being free, isn’t it?”
Dortmund took a deep breath, raised his gaze to the ceiling in supplication, and shook his head. “You’re all lunatics. Just as infected with this place as that little girl and Talina.”
Trish broke out in that irritating laughter again. “Yeah, well, join the club, Doc.”
“I remain a rational human being. And as soon as I can get you to fly me back to Port Authority, I’m going to insist that Captain Torgussen ferry me back up to Vixen. Once there, I can write up my observations and either space back to Solar System with the ship—should they choose to leave—or await the next vessel to arrive here.”
Kylee had crept into the room about halfway through the conversation. Wild thing that she was, she’d veered wide, keeping to the walls, and settled in the room’s far corner. Now she said, “You can’t go back.”
“Of course I can. What do you know? Just like the radio. Trish plugged in the what’s-it and it worked fine. Being here has had its moments, like actually communicating with a quetzal.” He lifted his bandaged arm. “And you can see what that got me.”
Kylee’s oddly blue eyes narrowed. “You still don’t understand, do you?”
“Of course I do. Some sort of symbolic quetzal gesture. Maybe like a bond. Some affirmation of communal acceptance. Perhaps even a status display, or a rite of passage.”
“You’re infected. Get it? That’s what that blood transfer was all about. Right now, running around in your blood, you’ve got TriNA all through you.”
Dortmund stopped, his heart skipping a beat. Disbelieving, he stared down at the bandage, felt that throbbing ache in his wound.
“Yeah,” Kylee cried. “Now you’re a polluted hybrid just like Talina and me!”
Dortmund swallowed hard, closed his eyes. As the implications filtered through his brain, he really wanted to throw up.
65
The small dorm room in the admin building wasn’t the poorest of accommodations that Tamarland Benteen had ever endured, but it was pretty pitiful. He’d taken the lower of the bunks in the cramped room. The only saving grace was that he’d filled it with Allison Chomko. The naked presence of a warm and voluptuous woman to wrap himself around made all the difference. It also helped that she was a willing partner who actively enjoyed copulation.
He’d been intimate with enough high-priced courtesans back in Solar System to know when a woman was a trained professional. Allison wasn’t, but she was both willing and dedicated, and that intrigued him. He frightened her, worried her, and despite that, she actively enjoyed sex with him.
He wondered if it was a curious psychological problem—something smacking of a bit of nymphomania. Or perhaps it came from a lack of nurturing in her youth that left her craving any kind of physical contact no matter with whom, or what their motives.
Then again, it might just be Donovan. People here lived with danger every waking moment of their lives. Maybe it was a new form of anxiety disorder, somewhat akin to how people lived in war zones where every minute might be their last. Or perhaps it was some need to punish herself because a quetzal had taken her baby from its crib.
Whatever. Her presence beside him made living in the admin dorm bearable for the foreseeable future. He certainly didn’t want to expose himself by walking out on the street. Not until he had the locals firmly cowed and under control.
Tam slipped out of the bed, seeing a gray and dismal morning through the one small window.
“Time to get up?” she asked, rolling over and tossing her pale blond hair back. The way the sheet clung to her, the posture she unconsciously adopted, added to her allure, and she did it without thought. Nature might have programmed her specifically for his appreciation.
“We’ve got a busy day.” He slipped his Talon into its holster and donned his suit coat. “Time to see if that moron, Hazen, can manage his people. His orders were to begin rounding up the individuals I have identified from the lists. I want them here by no later than ten.”
Allison threw the bedding back, swung her feet over the edge of the bed, and studied him through a wary blue glare. “Rounded up? Like arrested?”
“You sound surprised.” He offered his hand, pulling her up so that he could read her reaction up close. “All I have is me. No army, no police, no computer to run surveillance algorithms looking for dissidents. My security force is of questionable loyalty. My only chance for success lies in bringing in the potential ringleaders, figuring out where their weaknesses lie, and exploiting them to the best of my ability.”
“You do know the kind of people you’re dealing with, don’t you?”
“People are simply humans, my dear. Chinese, Translunan, Egyptian, Cambodian, or station born. All remarkably and boringly the same. They share similar fears, weaknesses, and vulnerabilities. Pride is pride. Fear, terror, and pain are physiological reality. Even here in Port Authority. They can’t help but value their children over all else. They will still dread imprisonment, torture, or execution.”
He saw the faint wavering as her irises constricted. Caught the tightening of her jaw muscles. Saw the moment she realized just how far he was willing to go.
“It’s all right, Ali,” he told her. “It doesn’t seem so at the moment, but it is in their best interest. Taking these potential ringleaders now, bringing them here, means that they can see the reality of their situation. True, I might have to shoot one or more of them, but the rest will come to understand the new reality. In the long run that will save them more suffering than if I had to hunt them down one by one. The whole process of their surrender will be a lot less painful.”
“Shit on a shoe, you really believe this.”
“Not a matter of belief, love. It’s just how people work. I’ve got to break their spirit, suffocate any hope of resistance before it can be born. At the same time, I’ve got to show them that I am indeed in charge, and any obstructionist behavior is doomed before they even consider it.”
“That’s it? Just beat them down?” He caught a flicker of amusement behind her voice.
“Of course not. Government must always offer the governed a path of least resistance. The realization that they might not like compliance, but it beats hell out of the alternatives. In return for their loyalty, they get to be part of a more efficient system. There will be rewards for those who pitch in on my side: advancement, power, and privilege.”
“These aren’t the same kind of people you’re used to in Solar System. They’ll make a fight of it.”
“But not much of one. At heart they’re just people.” He lifted a finger to run along the angle of her jaw. “But what of you, my bird? If it came down to it, would you back me, or your people?”
To her credit, she held his gaz
e, really gave her response consideration. “If I betrayed you, you’d kill me in a second. So how about you don’t let it come to that?”
He chuckled, seeing the fear behind her eyes. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t want to be anyone’s martyr. All I’m doing is trying to stay alive. If helping you means I can keep some other people alive at the same time, I’ll do that, too.”
He turned her loose, saying, “Then come on. I’ll show you how one man can take over a whole colony.”
When she’d dressed, combed out her hair, and nodded, he exited the door, walked down the hall, and collected binding cuffs from the armory. Then, at the radio room, he leaned in. “Two Spot? A word please.”
The lanky youth nodded, stood, and walked over. “Morning, um, Director. What can I do for you?”
“Turn around.”
“Sir?”
“Just turn around.”
Tam cuffed him.
“Hey! What the hell?”
“Your days here are over.”
“But who’s gonna monitor the radio?”
“Absolutely no one.”
Allison told him, “You’re really playing with fire, Tam.”
“First rule of governance, love. You’ve got to cut off the opposition’s communications.”
“But what about if there’s an emergency?” Two Spot nodded toward the radio. “Maybe a medical, or someone goes down in the bush?”
“Then they go down. I’m playing for everything, and in order to win, I’m going to have to take some long risks. So, you see, it’s my way or nothing.”
He pulled out his Talon and placed the muzzle against the startled man’s head. “Now, Two Spot, how do I disable the com system so that people with implants can’t jabber back and forth and make trouble?”
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