Lord Banshee Lunatic (Nightmare Wars Book 3)

Home > Other > Lord Banshee Lunatic (Nightmare Wars Book 3) > Page 15
Lord Banshee Lunatic (Nightmare Wars Book 3) Page 15

by Russell Redman


  The Healer remained plastered to the wall. “No, Benevolent One.”

  Badami’s smile was still grim but with a faint twinkle of mischief. “After you have contacted every one of the medics in person with that message, I would like you to recruit singers to perform Angel of Hope at the meeting, all four voices including the cannibal. Public Officer Rostov outside will know what I mean.

  “Relax Healer. I am going to order mood-enhancing drinks and some of the less bizarre snacks from the café next door. It will be the closest thing to fun that we have had since we arrived on this rock.

  “After you have heard the song, you will understand why I am renaming you ‘Messenger of Hope’. You should translate that into Tibeto-Saan. It is your new name and I think will be even more appropriate when your surgeries are complete.”

  The Healer bowed low, with a baffled expression on her face. “Benevolent One, I am reborn. Is there more?”

  Badami thought momentarily. “The Captain and Sub-Admiral know about our simulations and should receive invitations. We will need the main meeting room and should reserve it for two hours. This pre-empts any other meeting in that period. Tell everyone to eat lightly at dinner. It would not do to have them all sick during the show. Go now. Medic Bashir, I am afraid you should stay here with me, just in case.”

  The Healer still looked sick and confused, but sidled out of the room, clinging to the wall as far from me as she could get. She slipped past our guards at the door, heading towards the front of the café. The noise of the debate seemed even louder and more like a party than when we had moved back here.

  I asked, “That word, ‘uthikoloshe.’ It clearly refers to Earth people. What does it mean?”

  Badami looked at me. “It is an old African word. I was told once that it was the name of an evil spirit that could be summoned by a witch doctor or some such superstitious nonsense. Merchants have used it for decades as an insulting euphemism for the greedy, lying cheats they are forced to trade with on the earth stations, with their corporate masters in the role of the witch doctors. In the Belt, it was generalized as an insult for arrogant Earthers. Since the Genocide, it has grown into a term of hatred and contempt for all Earth people, quite widely used amongst the Wilders and smaller factions.

  “On Mars, you were unmistakably an uthikoloshe and the witch doctor who controlled you was Ngomo. You are notorious everywhere, even on the Earth from what I have heard. I have two of the stupid romances that use you as a prop for bad writing. I have no doubt that the Emperor will make your trial mandatory entertainment, but it hardly matters. Everyone, everywhere, will watch and listen to what you say. I hope your ‘Officers of Truth’ are as good as their reputations.

  “Adedokenbo and I have known who you were for a while, although until now I cherished the illusion that you were someone else playing a bizarre diplomatic game. I could do nothing while we were on board the Lansdorf because the diplomatic and military repercussions would have been immediately disastrous. The medics must know who you are as well, but are so despondent that they have said nothing. The Captain and Sub-Admiral had no idea who we had on board. Now they will know without any doubt. We can never meet again. I am going to have to lie about how I got this file.”

  I smiled. “Benevolent One, this particular file was leaked to you, not by me, but by someone within the Lunar government who did not realize you were under suspicion. Ze merely believed you were a valuable contact with the Imperial fleet. They were trying to provide you with a warning of how bad things could become under even optimistic assumptions. All of that is true so no lies may be needed.”

  Poloff Vo took a deep breath and said, “We have been fighting this conspiracy for decades. Nothing ever worked. Kill one batch of traitors and two more would already be arming for action under different names. All we could ever be sure of is that the trouble started on the Earth. Someone would come through offering advice, planning growth, or arranging trade deals. A few months or years later, those innovations would trigger sabotage and murders, followed by accusations and reprisals. Always, the ideas came through Extraterrestrial Affairs and the major terrestrial corporations.

  “When we arrived here, we expected uniform hostility organized by the wealthy tyrants who controlled Extraterrestrial Affairs. We planned a strike to neutralize the TDF and kill the Sultan regardless of casualties. Then, we would withdrawal, leaving only enough of a fleet under the command of the viceroys to ensure that the TDF could not rebuild. It should have been easy to find the Sultan. The conspiracy is huge and the prominent families are well known.

  “None of that happened. Far from of fighting for supremacy, you have not even tried to defend yourselves. We shut down Extraterrestrial Affairs, but it has not helped at all. Factional rivalries that we thought had been settled re-emerged as soon as we arrived. Our own troops are a far worse threat than the TDF ever was.

  “To our astonishment, the earth stations and the Moon both welcomed us. The Earth might have as well, if we had given it a chance. Even there, resistance is mostly passive. The people on the Moon are friendly and helpful, even though we have brought them nothing but trouble. Officer Rostov honestly seems to believe we are here for rest and relaxation. He really tried to be respectful. The Sultan still seems impossible to find, but now we may have time.”

  He looked at Badami, who nodded slowly.

  “Amanda and I are convinced this did not happen by accident. Somebody, somewhere, is helping us. That is the real reason we wanted to meet you again.

  “We have received no intelligence updates since the charges were laid, of course, but the Lunar people are surprisingly well informed about local events and eager to discuss them. We think we have recognized your presence in several of the stranger events, certainly for LUVN, maybe within the TDF and the earth stations. That crazy song may be the latest example. It starts with despair and violence but then ignores them in favour of hope. Unbelievable! And we saw how you used it to help that poor woman!

  “People change and often regret their earlier offenses. Regardless of what you might have done on Mars, is that someone you?”

  Badami suddenly looked concerned. “Our watchers are reporting suspicious activity in the adjacent squares. I fear that the Ghost or the Sultan Mustafa may have been sighted here.”

  Sa’id warned, “The Exterminators may well know we are here. A team of their agents attacked us yesterday but were captured. That is why Commerce was locked down. Their failure to report back must have raised an alarm.”

  Poloff Vo ordered, “You need to leave immediately. No, wait. Give me your hat and gown. You shine like Jupiter in that outfit. Wear mine instead.”

  He stripped off his outer garments and snatched my hat from the floor.

  Badami cried, “Adedokenbo, what are you doing?”

  As he and Sa’id tugged my gown off me, he replied, “I am going shopping in local clothes so people will not be afraid of me. If those are assassins approaching, I may be able to lead them away from this café, away from the debate, away from you, and especially away from him for long enough that he can escape. If he dies, we all die. I now understand that he must survive this day.

  “If I am killed, I die willingly in a good cause. I have not had a real cause in so long, it seems like a refreshing drink of cool water. Remember me, Amanda. Use my sacrifice to build a better union between our factions.”

  Other lives were at stake, which revived me better than any tonic. “If there are assassins, the debaters need to be brought indoors. Tell the Public Officer to herd everyone indoors as you leave and to spread the word of a security alert.”

  Sa’id said, “I have already warned the Public Officers, who are clearing the square. After yesterday, they are ready for trouble.”

  I struggled to get into Poloff Vo’s clothes as Sa’id clipped on his helmet. I barely managed to get the shirt on by myself. He was larger than me, but it would be enough of a disguise to get past an uncritical inspection.

&nb
sp; MacFinn said, “Benevolent Ones, I will stay here if I may. There may be casualties, so Medic Bashir and I may both be needed. Commander, may I request two guards to protect Poloff Badami and the debaters? Would you still have enough to get home safely?”

  Sa’id hesitated, then said, “Yes. We will have to move quickly and fewer people may help that. I will leave Ma and Zurcher.”

  Badami said, “Adedokenbo, our watchers will guard you if they can.”

  Everyone helped me to pull on Vo’s shorts and climb back onto my wheelchair, which would have been easy except for the urinary and rectal catheters. At last, partly disguised, we left the room.

  Vo, MacFinn and the two guards headed for the front where the subdued debaters were crowding together inside. Sa’id, our three guards and I headed single file towards the back. As we passed the washrooms, I saw our waiter being comforted by her friend and heard her ask, “...help me find a grief counsellor...”. Then we hustled out the back door into the service corridor.

  2357-03-26 03:00

  Father Paul

  The corridor was wider and higher than the one behind Commerce. More accurately, the service corridor behind Commerce was divided into separate lanes, vertically and horizontally, by heavy, multilayer slabs of reinforced steel, so that delivery, power, communications, and water systems effectively ran through separate corridors. It reduced the risk that a single accident could take out all the services at once. Behind normal businesses, a single large corridor served every purpose. Pipes, cables and junction boxes festooned the ceiling and walls. There were separate, narrow trenches under the floor that carried organic waste to the recycling centre.

  I knew the layout of this place, so close to Commerce and the CI offices. The blocks stretched away from Prosperity twice as far as they were wide, each road lined with high-end businesses and the interior of the block laced with service corridors. We had not followed this route when we came here because the corridor behind the Merry Merchant connected to two others before it reached the closest road, with even more hallways and rooms in the other direction. The side corridors led to more storage rooms, transformer rooms, primary recycling facilities, maintenance worker’s offices and lunch rooms, all the kinds of places Doctor Toyami had been escorted through on the day of her Repository Party. It would have been far too easy for enemies to hide and attack us from the shadows, although in the event that had not made as much difference as I had hoped.

  Sa’id ran us past the first side corridor but swung left into the second. The three guards had their guns drawn, ready to fend off an attack, as they ran ahead and behind us. I glanced back and realized that Sa’id also had his gun drawn and was running freely, presumably controlling the motors on the wheelchair through his comm.

  There was shrill shouting as my wheelchair dodged hard right and sped past the forward guard, who had sprawled face down on the ground. I glanced back again and realized they had all fallen on their faces. I was momentarily stunned, then realized it was another token attack. The wheelchair was under someone else’s control and the armour worn by the guards had been paralyzed.

  The wheelchair swerved right into a small room and slowed to a halt. Standing before me was a figure I remembered from evil days in the past. “Father Paul?”

  He stood impassively. “Never call me that again. I serve different masters now.”

  “You were the only one who told me the truth. Why?”

  He remained stony. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here to send you to your death like all the others. Except it won’t work anymore, will it? You are completely rogue. They sent me without backup because they believe you will either obey their command or will kill me. Either outcome is acceptable to them now.”

  I gave a faint smile. “I did not kill you because you were honest with me. Not kind and not completely honest, but you did not lie or try to sugar-coat the bad deal I had been given. I appreciated that.”

  Echoing down the corridor I heard gunshots and a distant scream. Not one of ours, judging from the sound, just some helpless maintenance worker who stepped into the corridor at a bad time.

  “Father Paul, try to send me on a mission now.”

  He looked sad beyond words. “Are you in a hurry to die? Or just to kill me?”

  “Please, now, before the assassins get here. They will kill us both, uselessly. I fear they will kill you even if you succeed, just to clean up a loose end. Do it.”

  He stepped forward, touched me and said something meaningless.

  “Gotcha,” I replied as sirens started screaming, doors slammed shut, and I involuntarily stared at his face long enough to preserve the record of his appearance.

  Very carefully, I reached forward and took his hand. “Father Paul, do you still believe my sins can be forgiven?”

  He stood, staring at my arm as though it was a venomous snake. “What happened? How can you still be here, talking as though nothing was wrong? We are trapped! You should be killing me because you cannot escape.”

  “Father Paul, we are safe here for the minute. I have protections on my comm that only a few others have been given. They cannot control me. Is that how they control you?”

  He started to quiver. “Kill me if you are going to, quickly. I don’t know how anything works. I never did. I just have to do what they command. I have no choice. Failure is punished with overwhelming fear. It is rising now. They know I have failed. If you don’t kill me, they will, by stopping my heart with terror. If you have any mercy, kill me now.”

  “Father Paul, I may have something better. Do you have an embedded comm unit?”

  “Yes, but why? I’m so scared already that I’m peeing myself. KILL ME!”

  “Please, I’m going to send you two tokens. You must install them yourself. They will block the terror and all the other false emotions they use to control you.”

  He was becoming shaky. Very, very carefully, I stood up and wrapped my arms around him, still tethered to the field station on the wheelchair by my catheters.

  “Father Paul, please install the tokens. Do you remember that absolution only works when you repent of your sins and accept that Jesus has the power to forgive them? It is like that. You must install the tokens of your own free will.”

  He began to stink as his bowels loosened. “How can I trust you? What else will it do?”

  “Beloved, I come to bring you warning and healing. Your enemies want you to die, but the tokens will block them out. You will be free to go, or to come with me if you choose.”

  His jaw hung slack and his eyes grew wild, then he sagged in my arms. I was barely able to stand myself, even in the weak lunar gravity, but we braced against each other and remained upright. Finally, he uttered a long, low moan, pushed himself away, and slumped to the floor.

  I sat down in my wheelchair, very, very carefully. I had pulled one of my weak belly muscles. Nothing to be done about it now.

  He looked up at me from the floor. “What did you do? Why did you call me that? I tried to kill you. You should hate me. I was never your friend, never anyone’s friend.”

  “Beloved, I remembered you were an honest man. I cannot hate honesty. Once you were a Jesuit, were you not? Can you remember what that was like?”

  He put his face in his hands. “I’m too ashamed. Don’t force me to remember that time.”

  “Your shame speaks well for you. I have known many who did worse and cared less. Do you understand that the comm units exchange messages? There are structures called tokens that can be attached to the messages. Some of them control machines like the motors in my wheelchair. Some can change our emotions. Can you tell me when your comm unit was installed?”

  He shook his head as if to clear it. “What does it matter? Oh, it was shortly after I became abbot. It was needed for the job. But then I lost interest and wandered away. I have not even been in a church since then! From time to time I remember who I was and try to repent. It never helps. If I approach a church or a priest, I become nauseous. When th
ey call me, I’m forced to commit whatever sin they require of me. I have no soul anymore.”

  “Father Paul, Beloved, your shame and remorse proves your soul is alive and searching desperately for absolution. I cannot give it to you, being even more deeply buried in sin, but I think you will find yourself free from their call for quite a while. You will have time to repent and confess your sins to a real priest. They cannot prevent it anymore. Look, there is a wash basin over there. Would you like to clean yourself?”

  He did, but his underwear went straight into recycling. The shorts would have to join them, although he tried as hard as he could to wash out the brown stains and the smell. Nor was it easy to clean his body in a hand basin. I set my mask to filter out the smell. He was trying to remove a shame that would not rinse away in cool water.

  “Father Paul, we should hurry. The Exterminators will believe you have gone rogue, like me. They will want to kill you to conceal their crimes. There are very few places you can hide that they cannot reach, but I suspect deep in the silent cells of a monastery might be one of them, or as a hermit in some corner of the world that God created just for you and no one else. If you never surface again, they will lose interest after a while. They did not bother me for ten years.

  “Come, walk with me and let us leave this old life behind. If nothing else, I would like to get away from these sirens. I may be able to open the doors. Do you know how to remove the paralysis from my guards? That would be a good first step towards restitution.”

  He slowly gathered himself up and pulled back on the wet, soiled shorts. “I have freed the controls on your wheelchair. Will your guards shoot me?”

 

‹ Prev