One Eyed Jacks

by George R. R. Martin

  Blaise let out a sound like a dying air brake, and Cody lunged for her surgical gear as Blaise's mind control broke. "Would you fuck this macho bullshit!" she screamed. "And just mind-control him!"

  For an instant Tachyon was distracted by the sight of the completely naked Cody snatching up and wielding a chest separator like a modern-day Hippolyte.

  First rule of combat never, never, never get distracted. Blaise landed a palm strike to the face. With a dreadful mushy sound the cartilage in Tach's nose let go, and blood fountained over his chest, forming a red bib on the elaborate peach-colored coat.

  Belatedly the Takisian brought up his hands in defense. He and Blaise circled each other warily.

  Feint, feint. Tachyon lashed out with his mentat's power and struck the glass-smooth surface of Blaise's shields. Struck again and a tiny cobweb of cracks appeared in the structure. At this rate it was going to take until next Tuesday to breach the boy's shields. And Tach didn't have that long.

  Too much booze and not enough exercise was taking its toll. He was panting like a ruptured hog. Blaise landed a body blow that resurrected memories of broken ribs from the year before.

  Suddenly Cody was there. With a deft twirl of the chest separator she landed a walloping blow to the back of Blaise's head. He staggered, but then Cody froze and began advancing stiff legged on Tachyon.

  "You see, Granpere." Blaise's smile was feral. " I can control her and fend you off. Mentally and physically. All at the same time."

  Blaise's coercive ability was the most powerful Tach had ever confronted, but it was brute force. The subtleties of high-level mentatics were beyond him. Contemptuously Tachyon batted aside Blaise's grip on Cody. Interposed himself between the teenager and the woman. His mental shields enfolded her close as an embrace.

  Cody was raging. Her thoughts ripped off her like sparks off a shorting fuse.

  Damndamndamn. Stags. Runtingbedamnedstags. Me a damn shuttlecock. Notatoy! Releaselmakefree!

  Cannot. Dare not. Tachyon sent to her. Help me, he begged.

  Tachyon licked blood from his upper lip and endured three punishing body blows as he closed with Blaise. Clawlike, the artificial hand closed about Blaise's arm just above the elbow. It could exert enough pressure to crush a metal cup. Its effect on human tissue was also quite satisfying. Blaise screamed, and Tachyon's nostrils flared with wild, joyous pleasure as he slammed his left hand over and over again into Blaise's face.

  Touch her, will you? No! None but me! She is mine! Mine! MINE!

  Blaise tried a ball shot, but Tach was too quick for him. The blow landed on his thigh. The older man responded with a hammer blow to the boy's nuts. A scream ripped through the morgue.

  Tachyon could feel Blaise's mind control scrabbling at his shields, but the teenager was in too much pain, too disoriented by hate and interrupted lust to muster any effective challenge to Tach's power.

  Suddenly there were hands tearing at his shoulders. "Stop it! Stop it! You're going to kill him."

  Tach snarled, ignored her, continued the pleasurable business of reducing his enemy to a bloody pulp. The hands were gone. Tach heard the slap of Cody's bare feet on the tile as she ran.

  Agony! The formaldehyde burned like acid in the cuts on his face, his eyes. Tach and Blaise both fell back. And at last it penetrated. Blood lust, the killing. He had been on the verge of murdering his own grandchild. Horrified, Tachyon stumbled back, lost his footing in the slick blood, and went windmilling to the floor.

  Blaise, his face a mask of blood, cradling his mangled arm, snarled down at Tachyon. "You're dead!"

  Crablike, Blaise scuttled for the door. Flung it open and bolted from the morgue. Tachyon shook off the fear that held him and struggled to his feet.

  "Where are you going?" cried Cody. "Must… catch him. Apologize. Help him."

  "It's too late for that!"

  Tach tottered for the door, but the pain from his broken nose made him dizzy. Tach sent out a telepathic bellow for Troll and was amazed when the nine-foot-tall joker appeared a second later.

  "Doc, are you okay?" the security guard asked. "Of course he's not okay," snapped Cody.

  Troll opened and closed his mouth several times as he contemplated the stark-naked chief of surgery.

  "Blaise," Tach mumbled around a split and rapidly swelling lip.

  "He lit out of here like a scalded cat," said Troll, then added ruefully. "Sorry I'm so late getting here, but I knocked myself clean out."

  "Help me get Dr. Tachyon to emergency," Cody ordered. "We've got to fix that nose."

  "Put on some clothes," ordered Tachyon.

  "What's the matter? You've never seen a naked woman before?"

  "I do not wish the entire world to see my woman." "Your woman? Your woman?"

  Tach retreated from her acid laced thoughts. "Slip of the tongue," the Takisian muttered weakly.

  "Owwwww! What are you using?" Tachyon complained nasally. Cotton wadding and splints clogged his nose, and his throat was becoming sore as he struggled to breathe through his mouth. "An entrenching tool?"

  "Don't be such a baby." The probe hit the steel tray with a metallic clatter. "You're going to need a new nose. Any preference?"

  "How about just like the one I had."

  "Don't waste a golden opportunity"

  "Why should I change it?" It annoyed him that she didn't like his nose.

  "It was trifle on the long side," Cody said coolly. "It was patrician and aristocratic."

  "It was a honker."

  Tach absorbed this. Reluctantly admitted, "My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother always hated my nose."

  "Then allow me to be creative."

  "All right."

  Cody worked in silence for several minutes, then a little gruffly she asked, "How did you know?"

  "We were halfway to Tomlin International when I realized I had forgotten a grant application."

  "The one from HEW?" she interrupted. "Yes."

  "I've got it. I inadvertently picked it up when I was in your office this afternoon. I'm sorry."

  "Sorry? You should thank whatever ancestors guard your back. So fortuitous a gift should not be demeaned. Anyway, Riggs started back, and at about Fifth Avenue I heard you screaming your head off. Riggs spared no effort, and as a result we had a police escort all the way to the clinic."

  "Well… thanks." She made a minute adjustment, and Tach sucked in a pained breath. "I seem to be making a habit of having you rescue me."

  "It is my pleasure."

  "Well, it's no pleasure for me. I'm accustomed to taking care of myself."

  "You would do the same for me," said Tach gently. Cody prefaced her words with a long sigh as if she regretted the emotion that drove the response. " I suppose I would."

  That girl was back. Lips skinned away from his teeth at Blaise whirled on her.

  "Why the fuck are you following me?"

  "You look like you need that place to go." The angle of her cigarette as it hung limply from her lips seemed to mock him.

  "I don't need dick from you."

  " I can show you something you'll like," Molly Bolt said.

  Blaise smiled. "You're a really skinny, ugly little runt. I doubt your pussy's going to be much nicer."

  The girl's face closed down like a series of slamming doors. "You're so fucking stupid. Okay, fine, we'll show you."

  He felt the pressure of a mind. Then a second, a third, more and more joined in a desperate attempt to do something to him. Molly's tough-girl act was starting to fray at the edges. Blaise grinned at her. Reached out and closed his power about the watchers in the shadows. Last of all he took Bolt. It felt sweet to save her until last. Blaise commanded, and eight kids walked out of the shadows of the alley. Stood shoulder to rigid shoulder with their leader. Molly's eyes raged at him.

  "What are you?" whispered a girl whose white-blond hair formed a shimmering nimbus about her little face. Blaise considered the question for a long time. It deserved
a lot of consideration. Finally he said, "Inhuman." Blaise patted down Molly Bolt and pulled out a package of cigarettes. Lit one. Took a long drag. "Now, what was it you wanted to show me?"

  "Read my mind," spat Molly.

  It angered Blaise that he couldn't. Tachyon would have been able to. That cranked the anger a little higher. "What are you going to do with us?" Molly asked.

  "Sell you as lawn jockeys." The laugh emerged as a tight little whinny.

  "Let us go… please," cried the blond girl. "You wont fuck with me?"

  " I swear it," said Molly, pleading a little now. "We need you. Now I know why."

  "What were you going to show me?"

  "Let us go."

  Blaise released them. Truth was, his overstretched mental powers were starting to quiver like a too tightly wound guitar string. But his little humans never suspected.

  Molly ran a hand across the spikes of her multicolored hair. Sauntered to the mouth of the alley. The sidewalks were filled with rush-hour humanity. The sun sank like a bloated red sack into an ocean of brown-green smog. In the canyons between the buildings night had already fallen. "So, pick one," said Molly.

  "One what?" asked Blaise.

  "Person," said a skinny kid whose face seemed to be one angry blackhead.

  "For what?" Blaise asked. He hated to ask. It made him look stupid.

  "To humiliate," said the blond teen in her soft littlegirl voice.

  "Or kill," offered another of the gang.

  Blaise scanned the crowds. Listened to the blare of car horns. The thrum and rumble of hundreds of tires racing across the uneven asphalt of Broadway.

  "Hurry" prodded Molly Bolt.

  Blaise ignored her. Eventually he spotted what he was looking for. A carefully combed head of carrot-red hair, a business suit on the inexpensive side of nice. Not too tall. A little too slim.

  An incline of the head. "Him."

  "And do what?" asked Molly. "Kill him."

  " I am fine. It is just a broken nose. I do not need to be in bed."

  Cody ignored him. Folded back the comforter. " I must reach Washington."

  She stripped him out of the blood-covered coat. "I must locate Blaise."

  She unbuttoned his shirt.

  "Make up your mind," Cody said. "Blaise or Washington."

  Tach considered. "Washington."

  "Fine. You'll fly tonight. Dita's already rescheduled your tickets."

  "Damn it," he raged. "Don't manage my life."

  She pushed his shirt off his shoulders. "Somebody has to." She pointed at his pants. "Finish. I'll get you some water so you can wash down these pain pills."

  It's useless arguing with a shut door. Meekly Tach stripped off his pants and shorts and crawled beneath the sheets. Cody returned with the glass and an ice pack. Tach obediently swallowed the pills.

  "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

  "Now what are you apologizing for?"

  "Mind-controlling you. I know how fiercely independent you are, but I could not effectively protect-"

  "I know why you did it. Let's just drop it, okay?"

  "Nonetheless, your reaction shamed me. Cody, please understand and do not reject me. My defense of you is not meant to demean you."

  "I know"

  "Perhaps it manifests as somewhat proprietary, but that is because I am still hoping-"

  "Tachyon, would you just shut the fuck up."

  "But I do not want you angry-"

  "You know what your problem is? You talk too goddamn much!"

  Black, oily. The water looked really disgusting. And the smell…

  Blaise swallowed hard. Wished his elbow didn't hurt so bad. Out in the bay a police patrol boat droned past, spotlights sweeping across the choppy waters.

  Blackhead-Blaise had discovered his name was Kent set down the bags of groceries on the end of the pier. Molly knelt and lit a kerosene lantern.

  "One if by land?" asked Blaise sarcastically.

  Molly didn't reply, for there was rippling in the dark water and a thing rose up from the water.

  "Shit!"

  "No, Charon."

  Kent thrust the bags of groceries through the semitransparent body wall. Blaise's initial disgust was passing. It was just another version of Baby, Tachyon's living spaceship. Blaise took a step toward Charon. Molly held him off with a hand to the chest.

  "How bad do you want it?" asked Molly sternly. Blaise remembered. Shrill screams. The wailing of sirens forming a frantic counterpoint. The small redheaded man pinned against the wall of the cleaners. Vomiting his blood across the hood of the big Caddy.

  "Enough to do anything to get it."

  "Then ya gotta trust us. You gotta be one with us."

  "And if I don't?"

  "You can't make us give you the power," the blond girl said. "You can only scare us so much."

  Blaise slid his eyes toward her. "And do I scare you?"

  "Yes."

  Startling in its simplicity and honesty. Blaise took another look at her. Fine-boned. A few pimples on her chin, but otherwise unflawed. Fawn's eyes, but smoky gray with a dark circle surrounding the iris. The pale hair hung below her hips; it stirred softly in the breeze off the river.

  "What do I have to do?" Blaise asked, turning back to Molly.

  "Die."

  "Huh?"

  "Symbolically speaking," Kent explained. "This is bullshit."

  "No," said Molly. "This is real." She lifted a long chain with shackles attached to the end. "You walk behind Charon. We've got the end of this." She shook the chain. "Eventually we pull you in."

  "Eventually." Blaise turned the word over and over in his mouth.

  "You have to trust us to pull you in before it's too late," said the blonde.

  "What's your name?" Blaise asked abruptly.

  She was surprised and replied without thinking. "Kelly."

  "Stop farting around," interrupted Molly. "Have you got the guts for it or are you a jerk off and a coward?"

  "Try saying something like that after all this bullshit is over," warned Blaise. "And just what is the point of this bullshit?"

  "You have to die to live with us," a boy called out. "Great," muttered Blaise. "This is so stupid."

  "In or out, Blaisy Daisy," crooned Molly.

  Tachyon vomiting blood. Cody, eyes wide with terror and desire. Her body fiery hot beneath his. Bloody froth on her lips as his fingers sank deep into her neck.

  Blaise thrust out his hands. The shackles closed around his wrists. Blaise eyed Charon. The two small eyes regarded his thoughtfully, closed in a slow blink. Blaise laughed as a white-hot surge of lust and anticipation shot through him. This was going to be fun.

  They had clipped a heavy diver's belt about his waist, replaced his tennis shoes with lead-soled boots. Charon had slid beneath the water, Blaise plummeting like a stone behind him.

  Blaise concentrated on the thousands of wriggling cilia that propelled Charon across the muddy bottom. How long could he last? How long until the last stale bits of air exploded from his aching lungs and the filthy waters of the river rushed in?

  Charon's body cast a greenish glow into the dark waters. Occasionally a fish brushed against Blaise's body, fluttered hysterically away. His feet tangled, and Blaise fell to his knees. Almost… almost he gasped. His foot had caught in the rotting rib cage of a body. There was a jerk of the chain, the shackles biting into his wrists. Awkwardly Blaise staggered to his feet. Hurried to catch up with Charon.

  There was a roaring in his ears, and his lungs were laced with fire. His eyes focused desperately on the chain. Noted how the vaguely defined bands of muscle in Charon's body closed lovingly about the metal links. Blaise fought the urge to reach out and seize control of Molly.

  No! He'd fucking die before he'd break.

  And that was beginning to seem very likely. Blaise lifted his hands and pressed them against his nose and mouth. Suddenly the slack was taken up on the chain, and he was being reeled toward Charon's glistening b
ody. He struck and began flailing desperately at the rubbery wall. It stretched reluctantly open. Water and Blaise poured into the slimy interior.

  Kelly was yanking him up out of the water, which washed sluggishly across the floor of the joker's body. Air. Gulp it down, taste it, revel in the cool rush that filled his starved and aching lungs. Molly unlocked the shackles. They were cheering, laughing, suddenly he was captured in their embrace. A ten-headed animal with twenty arms holding and- caressing him. Blaise realized he was, crying and he couldn't figure out why. But it must have been okay because several other jumpers were crying, too.

  Blaise became aware of a mental barrier. It whispered of terror, death, loss, loneliness. He blocked it. The jumpers were shifting nervously. Molly soothed them with a constant soft murmur.

  "Just a little more. Almost there."

  "What the fuck is that?" asked Blaise. "Bloat," came the terse reply.

  Kent suddenly jumped to his feet. He was whispering as he shuffled toward one moist gelatinous wall. Blaise grabbed his wrist, forced him down next to him.

  "Sit down! You can take it. It's just a stupid mind power. And a pretty wimpy one at that."

  The jumpers were regarding him with awe. All except Molly. She looked pissed.

  "No wonder the Prime wanted you," breathed Kelly. "Who's the Prime?"

  Bolt tersely replied, "You'll find out. Someday. Maybe." Charon gave a little lurch as if all the thousands of cilia had pushed against the muddy bed of the river. They were rising. Water cascaded off Charon's back. They had arrived.

  Once on shore, Blaise folded his arms across his chest and gazed across Ellis Island. The trees covered it like spikes on a dinosaur's back, and above the shadowy foliage loomed massive buildings topped with turrets and fanciful cupolas. It reminded Blaise of the Takisian fairy tales Tachyon used to tell. Lost kingdoms that existed only in the clouds and mist. Elaborate palaces that lured a man to explore their treasuries and ballrooms only to fall to his death with the sunrise.