Pliocene Exile - The Adversary Part 61

[Image: Baby placed in cradle cries Father takes him holds against ma.s.sive deerskinvested shoulder pats tiny back expertly dips fingertip in honeypot Baby suckles Father cuddles yellow-bearded ferocity smiles.

] He makes a pretty good dad.

Your unconscious thought so.

... A weird thing that and one I never would have antic.i.p.ated.

The unconscious uses what it must.

And why Mayvar for my mother figure-and not you?

She was right.

You loved her and him too power& vulnerability stature&puniness maturejudgment&childis.h.i.+mpulse. In both. In you. Their child is father of your man. You chose your parents and gave birth to yourself.

I love you too!.

Sisterly. I'm the Ice Queen remember?

[Quiet laughter. Contemplation of slowly fading image.] Funny, I haven't been interested in that sort of thing lately.

You will be. Don't worry about that.

Save my energy for the real problems! ... One piece of good news today amidst the encircling gloom: We've located Tony Wayland that metallurgist we need for the Guderian Project. Would you believe? Chief Burke and his Lowlives nabbed the guy and offered to barter him to us!

All they want in return is free pa.s.sage back to the Milieu and a fair shake for their bandito buddies. Of course I agreed. The Chief will be coming into Roniah tomorrow to work out details of the swap with Kuhal Earthshaker at the City-Lord's place.

Hm. I haven't been in touch with Peo since before young Brendan's redaction. Strange that he should be willing to deal with a fellow Lowlife as a commodity.

Tony was eager to be sold down the river. The alternative was being hanged for high crimes and misdemeanours.

Good grief.

Good night Elizabeth.

Walter Saastamoinen came onto Kyllikki's bridge punctually at midnight to relieve Patricia Castellane at the helm.

"All peaceful, I presume," he remarked, thumbing the key pad of the course director and studying the replay of first-watch performance events. "You're doing very well at manual for an apprentice, Pat. The director only overruled you once in the entire four-hour trick."

"It's a relief to be able to do something besides those miserable psych-up exercises," she said. "My metafunctions aren't going to get much stronger through mental muscle flexing. More likely weaker, with my dirigent formation. But try to tell Jeff that." Her mouth was taut with resentment.

Walter moved to the wheel, disengaged the autopilot, and let the soul of the great schooner come into him.

Oh, you beauty!

"Sailing Kyllikki is good for what ails both of us. I wish we could just keep going. Alter course to the south ... touch in along the coast of Africa ... round the Cape of Good Hope and go up into the Indian Ocean to see Pliocene Asia. Marc would never let us range out, after the Antarctic tragedy. But now there's no real reason why we shouldn't."

She was making them coffee at the dispenser and now handed a mug to Walter, frowning slightly. "I don't understand you."

"The Milieu coppers aren't going to be able to nab us if Marc succeeds with this new d-jump thing." He twiddled with the atmospheric a.n.a.log unit next to the binnacle. "As I understand it, he should be able to take us all extraplanetary once he gets the thing mastered. We could cruise around until he does. Forget about fighting with the kids over the time-gate. Surely they'd be willing to delay the opening until we got safely away."

"Would they?" Patricia's voice was flat. "I can think of at least one who might not."

Walter ignored that. "I'm not sure I trust this little weather a.n.a.loger overmuch," he said, frowning. "It's wishy-washy about the deep trough below Rockall. Doesn't want to commit itself on trend. We may have to ask Marc to do a deep scan of the system. If the storm drifts our way we could be in for an uncomfortable couple of days that could be avoided with a course change, given the proper trend data."

Patricia was not to be distracted. "You know Hagen hates Marc. The boy is looking forward to setting the Magistratum on his father! We'll have to use force to keep that time-gate closed.

Nothing else will suffice. Unless you convince the children of their danger, Walter."

"I like sailing along the moonpath, don't you? It doesn't often happen that it works out just right that way-but when it does, it's magic."

She slammed her coffee cup down on the chart console. "Stick your head in the sand, then! Keep dreaming that we can solve this terrible mess with sweet reason and kindly intentions. But Cordelia Warshaw and I know better-and it won't be long before even Marc has to face the truth."

Walter's lips compressed into a hard line. He stared straight ahead, adjusting the wheel with delicate movements.

Patricia said, "I was talking to Jordy about the teleportation of external ma.s.s. In order for Marc to carry objects situated outside his CE rig, he'll have to expand the upsilon-field generated by his mind. It means jacking up the input power to the rig-putting a greater and greater stress on his brain. He can't do it abruptly or he'll risk overload. Kramer's not even sure that Marc has the capacity to encompa.s.s an area large enough to be practicable. Then there are the pa.s.sengers. Will they need life-support gear for jumps on Earth? All we have is the spare suit of CE armour, three more tons of ma.s.s for Marc to carry.

The testing will take time ... But I hardly think Hagen or Aiken Drum will delay opening the time-gate while Marc solves his teleportation problems."

"We could ask them to," Walter said.

Patricia was at the wheelhouse door. "We will. With the Xlasers behind us, and all the concerted coercion we can lash together!" Then she was gone.

Walter tracked her briefly to make certain that she had retired to her cabin, then scanned the rest of his s.h.i.+pmates. They were all either asleep or occupied with their work-except two. Marc was gone on the jump and Alexis Manion was unexpectedly at large, wandering about the main deck, pausing from time to time to swab at the brightwork with a polis.h.i.+ng rag. He was under the influence of the docilator. No one had thought to send him to bed, and only the magnates had the requisite command code. Subsidiary Grand Masters such as Walter were forbidden to interfere with the potentially dangerous Manion.

"Poor devil," Walter muttered. The dim figure disappeared behind the night-shrouded forward deckhouse. For some time Walter brooded about Manion, whose crime had been revealing to the children the truth about their elders. Then it was time to farspeak Veikko, and Walter forgot the dynamic-field specialist as he sent his mind ranging eastward to the Alps.

WALTER: Hey, boy.

VEIKKO: I'm here, Walter.

WALTER: How are things going?

VEIKKO: One of the climbers got a touch of pulmonary edema and another has frostbitten feet. But we progress. Camp 3 was stocked today. The a.s.sault teams leave here for the big push tomorrow. Basil is still on the mountain leading the support group down, and by rights the a.s.sault party should wait until he gets back. But we're expecting Firvulag company, so they're jumping the gun. Basil delegated a Tibetan medic named Thongsa to lead the other six a.s.saulters in a single group until they connect up with him. Then they'll split into two smaller teams as originally planned and Basil will lead them to the aircraft.

WALTER: Sounds like this Basil hasn't had much rest in the last week.

VEIKKO: He's led just about every other support group. I can't believe the guy is seventy-two. Rejuvenated, of course.

WALTER: That makes him a year younger than Marc. And a couple of years older than me.

VEIKKO: Well, we all know b.l.o.o.d.y Marc's immortal. But you look-I meanWALTER: The Ocala regen tank was getting a bit obsolete. I didn't make much use of it. I'm sure this Basil is a product of more sophisticated Milieu technology if he's the climbing superman you say he is.

VEIKKO: It must be quite a place ... the Milieu, I mean.

WALTER: You'll see.

VEIKKO: ... Walter, are you sure you still want to try it?