Pliocene Exile - The Adversary Part 97

"Not officially-and not using his metapsychic powers, of course. n.o.body's supposed to use mental strength until the big tug-of-war on Day Four and the no-holds-barred hurley game that climaxes the Tourney."

"Not even in the jousting?"

"Especially not in the jousting."

"Will the King he a contestant tomorrow?"

"It's rumoured he'll enter the pogo-stick leap. To help promote the peaceful uses of iron, you see."

"And will he go anonymously into the lists?"

Anatoly's eyes twinkled. "I guess we'll just have to be there tomorrow and see. Coming to the j.a.panese lantern parade and the Ground-Star Ball tonight?"

"Unless other matters demand my attention."

Anatoly finished the tidbit and licked his fingers. Out on the river, course attendants were setting up a large ring of white floats. The Deputy Marshal announced the next contest, something called a kelpie randan. The priest said, "So the Firvulag King turned down your offer, eh?"

Marc gave him a sharp look. The tip of a coercive-redactive probe stroked Anatoly's brain, making his cheeks bulge and sweat start out on the back of his neck.

"Did Elizabeth send you here to spy?" Abaddon inquired softly.

"She doesn't even know I'm at the games, dammit! Don't ream me-I'm only the advance man. The one you have to talk to is Creyn, waiting down back of the bleachers with Basil. He'd welcome your turning his mind inside out. He has important information for you."

The probe retracted minimally. The coercive hold tightened.

A roar went up from the crowd as a team of grotesque Howlers prepared to face a human squad of the King's Elites in a wild variant of water polo. Marc was on his feet, herding Anatoly toward the exit steps.

"You seem to be telling the truth. Brother. I believe I'll listen to what our friend Creyn has to say. And on the way out, perhaps we can do business with that tournedos vendor after all."

The royal flags.h.i.+p, with Aiken at the controls, landed close to the perimeter of the silver hemisphere and seemed to contemplate its distorted reflection in the gaudy sunset light. Bleyn and Alberonn, armed with big actinic blasters, stood by as the twenty-two metapsychic Rebels who had mutinied against their leader came down the aircraft ladder, followed by the King.

Aiken transmitted an indecipherable mental command and an airlock door opened in the surface of the force-field. He watched the others pa.s.s through, then came after and resealed the barrier behind him.

The Children of Rebellion were waiting there in the barbican of Castle Gateway, ready to say goodbye to their parents for the last time.

WALTER: Veikko! Son ... you look fine, and Irena, too. G.o.d, this is wonderful. I can't believe it's happening.

VEIKKO: You're limping.

WALTER: It's nothing. The Tanu redactors say they'll be able to fix me up. But you-Have you kids really done it? Really built the Guderian device?

IRENA: It's not quite finished, Walter. Perhaps by tomorrow.

VEIKKO: The cables need to have their micro-guts tuned up a skosh, that's all. There are problems with the core-mesh of superfine cladded wire, the d.a.m.n stuff that's given us h.e.l.l all along. But once the technical people get it squared away we power up, do a fast test, then just ... go.

IRENA: Hagen and Cloud will be first, of course, because of Marc. Once they pa.s.s through the gate, the rest of us should be safe.

VEIKKO: Cloud pulled a fast one today. Her Tanu lover, rather.

He told the King he wouldn't do his thing in the big chariot race unless Cloudie was there watching. Boy, was Aiken Drum p.i.s.sed! But he finally caved in and took her with him to the royal enclosure and guarded her like a hawk.

IRENA: Kuhal won the race, too.

WALTER: I guess you kids know about this Peace Faction going to resettle Ocala. And why they're leaving Europe ...

VEIKKO: The Nightfall War may never happen, Dad. Cloud got the latest p.o.o.p from Kuhal. The King and Queen of the Firvulag don't trust Marc to direct them in metaconcert. They think they can lick Aiken and his Tanu army on their own.

And maybe they're right.

IRENA: We're all so glad you'll be safe. Whatever happens to us.

WALTER: You'll get away! I know you will! You're so close!

VEIKKO: Sure we will. Good guys always win. And I guess we're good guys ... [Doubt.] IRENA: If we get to the Milieu, we'll make up for everything somehow. Some of us have been thinking about it. PlanningWALTER: I hope you can. G.o.d, I hope so.

VEIKKO: We're scared.

WALTER: So am I. But it's different now, isn't it?

VEIKKO: We stood up to him-us kids, and you, too. We'll see that they know in the Milieu, Walter. Especially about you and Alexis ManionAIKEN: Come.

WALTER: It's time. Kyllikki sails on the evening tide. Good luck, you two.

VEIKKO: Bon voyage, Walter. Wherever.

Elizabeth danced with the King, not knowing or caring what the music was, content to let him lead her, resting in his strength.

The enormous paper neputas were ranged in a circle about the dancing ground, softly gleaming. Their sides showed every sort of scene, every sort of creature and being characteristic of the Many-Coloured Land, ironically executed in cla.s.sic j.a.panese style in translucent coloured paints. Behind the great lanterns were the ancient trees of the bottomland forest, where a myriad of yellow, green and pink fireflies had been gathered by some Howler art to evoke the theme of the Ground-Star Ball. Overhead, the real stars of Pliocene November flamed more palely as the tardy moon rose. The constellation of the Trumpet, hiding the Duat Galaxy behind its mouthpiece star, was at the zenith.

Aiken said to Elizabeth, "You're happier. I'm glad."

"It's good being with you again, dear."

"Funny," he said, "the way I feel about you. No s.e.x at all.

Not brotherly, either. I don't know what to call it. You want me to control you and I want to do it. Like a father and a very little girl."

"Hermes Psychopompos," she said lightly. "The soul guide.

A very rare archetype indeed. I presume my subconscious knows what it needs."

"I'm not really the one, though, am I? But I wish-I wish you could be my Queen. I could love you and never be afraid."

"You'll find her someday, Aiken. You're very young."

"But growing up fast," he said, laughing.

Their minds disengaged and for a while, they simply let the dance own them. It was, Elizabeth realized to her surprise, almost a foreshadowing of Unity ... And then he said: "I want you to trust me. Let me into the hidden part of you for just a moment. Let me look behind the real mask you've always worn. Will you?"