Pliocene Exile - The Adversary Part 76

In any case, if the King attends the meeting, his coercive ability would be entirely sufficient to neutralize Marc's."

"I can believe that," Hagen muttered.

Cloud said, "But nothing has really changed. Papa and his confederates will never agree to our opening the time-gate."

Elizabeth said, "Marc asked me to tell you that he has something completely new to discuss with you. He said-and I confess I have no idea what he means-he said it concerned the answer to your old question about your genetic heritage."

"G.o.d-he said that?" Hagen's voice was hoa.r.s.e. His mind engaged that of his sister on the intimate mode and both Elizabeth and the King perceived the agitation of the exchange.

Hagen and Cloud were desperately afraid-and at the same time, fascinated.

"Elizabeth," the King asked, "do you know whether or not Marc can use that CE device on more than one metafaculty at a time?"

"I can answer that!" Hagen exclaimed. "G.o.d-can I! Papa instructed me thoroughly enough in the d.a.m.n thing's operation.

He was ready to chain me to a backup suit of armour he had all ready when we escaped from Ocala-"

"Pull yourself together." The King's barely leashed coercion hovered about the young man. "This is important!"

Hagen swallowed. "The rig can enhance only one metafunction at a time. For instance, when Marc performs a djump, the rig is locked onto his upsilon-field-generating faculty.

When he was doing the star-search, it enhanced his farsight."

"And when the bunch of you got together with Felice to zap Gibraltar," Aiken interposed, "he was augmenting his creativity?"

"That's it," Hagen agreed. "When he's phased into the thing-when the needle-electrodes are in his brain and it goes white-hot-he has only a single preprogrammed superfaculty.

The others are in peripheral mode. They're there, but only in his usual barebrained order of magnitude. He'd have to jump back to the directive computer if he wanted to switch."

"That's all right then," Aiken said, considerably relieved. "I was afraid he could use the rig to mind-zorch us in Black Crag."

"Not possible." A twisted smile spread over Hagen's face.

"He won't be able to pull that off until he's capable of teleporting the whole CE setup around with him-power supply, auxiliaries, and all. Ten tons of junk."

"Then we've got time," Aiken said. "I say we go see what Marc has to say. If he's barebrained, I'll take a chance."

"Could you burn him?"

Hagen asked quietly.

"No!" cried Cloud.

Elizabeth said, "All of you must give me your solemn word to keep the peace-and let me probe you redactively now and at Black Crag to be sure you mean it."

"Agreed," said Cloud at once.

Hagen took a bit longer, but finally he nodded his head.

Elizabeth looked inquiringly at Aiken. He screwed up his brow in a mock att.i.tude of deep thought. "If I did mind-zorch Marc-just supposing I could beat him in barebrain combat-it would save all of us a lot of potential grief."

"I want your word," Elizabeth insisted. "And an open mind."

The s...o...b..u.t.ton eyes sparkled wickedly. "I could promise. I could believe it, so your redactive ream showed I told you true.

And I could change my mind. You just never know about Me!"

"Oh, yes I do," Elizabeth said.

The little man shrugged his golden shoulders. "When shall we leave for Black Crag? Tomorrow? You can tell Minanonn he'll have to carry us all. I'm not flying that far on my own steam. I haven't been well."

Across Pliocene France in the Montagne Noire, where the latest storm was still many hours away, Marc and Brother Anatoly sat on the chalet balcony under the stars, drinking up the last of the Martell cognac and discussing the theological aspects of imputability and unconscious motivation. They were deeply engrossed and Marc only excused himself once, to do a rapid farscan of Kyllikki, to be sure she was bearing well to the north of the new depression menacing the west coast of Armorica.

When he saw that the schooner was safe, following the course he had given Walter Saastamoinen, he took up once again the fascinating topic of his own d.a.m.nation. It was piquant to serve as Devil's Advocate to one's self.

CHAPTER TWO.

The Firvulag King and his nominal va.s.sal Sugoll rode out unattended to the Field of Gold to await the arrival of Betularn with the treasure. The day was gloriously sunny and hot.

Side by side, the two white chalikos trotted onto the new Rainbow Bridge over the River Nonol. The former rickety suspension structure had been replaced by a fine cantilevered arch engineered by the Lowlife adoptees of Nionel. The bridge was coloured like its namesake, topped with ornate bronze railings and lamp standards, and wide enough to accommodate twenty chalikos abreast.

"Magnificent structure," Sharn commented heartily. The Lord of the Howlers accepted the praise with his usual equanimity, bowing his handsome, bald-pated head. Sugoll wore a flowing silver-tissue caftan over an illusory body that may or may not have been humanoid. Sharn was dressed in kidskin riding breeches of Lincoln green, jackboots with bejewelled high heels and spurs, and a balloon-sleeved s.h.i.+rt of fawn-coloured georgette, open to the navel to show off the regal chest-pelt and ventilate the regal armpits.

When the two rulers reached the centre of the span, they paused to pay tribute to the view. Behind them was Nionel, a vision of El Dorado in the s.h.i.+mmering heat. Below rolled the broad river, its right bank bordered by gargantuan ash trees and spicy thickets of cinnamon, sour-orange, and willow. Ahead of them lay the flowering steppe where the Grand Tourney would be held, with its grandstands and fair buildings and other structures now almost completely refurbished by the industrious goblin emigres. The Field itself was a brilliant green, powdered with b.u.t.tercups.

"I'm surprised to see the place looking so verdant," Sharn said, "since the countryside hereabouts has escaped the storms plagueing more southerly regions."

"The woodlands are indeed overdry," Sugoll said. "But we have taken pains to conjure a sprinkle every third night so that the Tourney grounds will be kept in good condition for the festivities. By game time the entire flat will be blanketed with sun-daisies, and golden rockroses will adorn the marge and the campgrounds back among the tall trees."

"Conjure a sprinkle-?" Sharn was clearly nonplussed. "You mean, make it rain?"

The mutant nodded innocently. "It's a small matter to herd together suitable clouds if all the people put their minds to it under proper leaders.h.i.+p. Or haven't you found it so?"

"Uh," said Sharn.

"We would be remiss hosts indeed if a parched Field were all we could offer for this first Grand Tourney."

Sharn was trying to suppress his astonishment. "Cousin, do your people then make it their frequent custom to mesh minds?

To act in what the Lowlives would call metaconcert?"

Sugoll considered. "I don't suppose we do it any more frequently than other folks. It does take organizing, after all.

We do weather modification when it's necessary, and certain large construction projects like the bridge and the polis.h.i.+ng of the city domes when we first moved in ... and back in Meadow Mountain, there was a certain amount of blasting. But that never involved more than fifty or so of the folk at once, and they didn't require my direction."

"When you direct their minds-do they accept your leaders.h.i.+p without question?"