Charon (34 page)

 
I burst out laughing. "You seem to be a one-man army," I told him.

 
"I only wish it were true," the Cerberan replied wearily. "Fortunately, you have a well-organized and equipped rebel force here on Charon—but you have additional problems. A—sore, I think you call them—named Kokul, who knew you well, said you had a conviction that the aliens are physically here and behind the entire Charonese government. He reported this to friend Koril here, and we'd like very much to know if this is only conjecture or whether you have something to base it upon."

 
"A feeling, really," I answered truthfully. "But the more I'm here, the more I'm convinced of it
. "
I've been among the humans here, high and low, and I've been among the changelings. Even the most remote and terrible changeling monstrosity retains its basic humanity somehow—some inner something I can't really put my finger on that marks them as human."

 
"The soul," Darva put in.

 
I shrugged. "I'm not sure I know what a soul is, but that's as good a word as any. Even the animals here have a certain spark. Everybody and everything—
except
this man Yatek Morah."

 
"You mean he's like me—a Warden cypher?" Dumonia asked. "As you all are to me?"

 
I shook my head.
"No, not that.
Physically he's just a man, all right, but—inside—I don't know any other way to put it—he's just not there. That soul, that essence, that intangible—it's just not there. I'm not the only one who noticed it. Tully did, too."

 
"It's true," Darva put in. "I saw him only briefly and from afar, but even then you could sense something— different—about him."

 
"Like a robot?" the Cerberan prompted.

 
The comment surprised me, but I had to recall that "robot" was exactly the word I'd used.
"Yeah.
Very much like that."

 
Dumonia looked at Koril, and Koril looked back; both sighed. Finally the former Lord said, "Well, that's that, then."

 
The Cerberan nodded. "Not from Cerberus." He turned back to us. "You see, Cerberus is the source of those cute imitative robots that are playing hell with the Confederacy. Never mind how—our powers are quite different from yours. But this Morah's no Cerberan."

 
"No, he certainly is not," Koril agreed,
then
turned to us. "You see, I
know
Yatek Morah. Or, at least, I
knew
him. He was born on Takanna, one of the civilized worlds. We were sent here at the same time, so we got to know each other pretty well. That was forty-odd years ago, of course, but he owes his present position to me. He's a cold, cruel man—but he's human."

 
"He was," Dumonia added. "Now he's far more than that."

 
Koril sighed. "Yes, I think our friends here confirm that. It explains a lot. It explains almost everything."

 
"Well it doesn't explain anything to me," Darva put in, showing her old spunk.

 
It didn't explain anything to me either, but I was preoccupied trying to catch hold of something I couldn't quite corner. Takanna . . . What the hell was familiar about Takanna?

 
"The alien robots are extremely sophisticated," Dumonia told us. "They are of a sort unknown in the Confederacy, although theoretically possible. In effect, they are quasi-immortal superhumans with the memory and personality of actual human beings."

 
"And this Morah—
he's
one of these things?" Darva responded.

 
"It very much appears so," the Cerberan agreed, "but it's unheard-of. As far as we know, it will only work through a Cerberan. Cerberans, you see, can swap minds—or swap bodies, if you prefer, but only with each other and with these robots. We know of no way that a Charonese could do so—or anybody else."

 
I put Takanna to the back of my mind for a moment to percolate,
then
rejoined the discussion. "There
is
a way," I told them. "Even the Confederacy knows about it. It's called the Merton Process."

 
Both Dumonia and Koril seemed startled, but Dumonia most of all. "Merton! How do you know that name? She is a Cerberan!"

 
That was news to me.
"No matter.
They have a process for complete mind and personality transfer from one body to another. It's terribly wasteful of bodies, but it works. I know it works."

 
It was Koril's turn to get into the argument "And how do you know?"

 
I took a deep breath and made a decision. Why not?
If not to these two—then who?
"Because I went through the process.
I'm not nor have I ever been Park Lacoch. He died—and I took his body."

 
Although Darva had known I was an agent, she -hadn't known before of the mind swap and looked at me rather oddly.

 
Dumonia, though, beamed and turned to Koril. "See?" he said smugly.

 
Koril sighed and shook his head. "I'll be damned how you knew," he replied.

 
"Knew what?" Darva asked.

 
"That your friend and partner here is a Confederacy assassin, come with the expressed mission of killing Aeolia Matuze," Dumonia told her.

 
"Oh, that," Darva said, surprising and befuddling the two men.

 
"I'd
like to know, too," I added. "I haven't exactly been very conspicuous as an agent."

 
"Simple," Dumonia replied. "You see, once I found out that there was an agent on Cerberus, I suspected others. When another was involved in the Kreegan matter on Lil-ith, I had to assume that at least one agent had been infiltrated at the same time to each of the four worlds. I looked at who was dropped, got behavioral reports, and made my decision. It was only surprising that I found you already here. I thought friend Koril was going to have to track you down all over the planet to rope you in."

 
I nodded, feeling a bit relieved. "And
that's
why I'm here."

 
"Yes—and me, too," the Cerberan responded. "You see, I believe we're running out of time. I am convinced, and so are the Confederacy security and military authorities, that the war is less than a year away.
The full war.
Even now it may be beyond stopping—but we must try. Removing Cerberus may be impossible, but at least we can exert some measure of control there. But the aliens seem abnormally interested in Charon. As you noted, it is not central to the plan—but it is
vital
to the aliens, for some reason—or else why introduce Morah and topple Koril for Aeolia Matuze? Well, we must remove the danger.
You
must I can give only technical help and moral support at this point"

 
Koril patted him on the shoulder. "And invaluable it's been, my friend. Otherwise I should be a crazy hermit in the desert now. We'll take it from here—and soon. Still, how do we kill such a man as Morah now is? He is as powerful as I in control of the wa—and far less mortal."

 
"He can be killed," Dumonia told him. "But it will take concentrated raw power weapons. Fry
him
completely— melt him down. Or blow him up with the most powerful explosive you can use. Nothing else will work Things like laser
pistols,
he will not only absorb but actually take in and use the energy. Melt him or blow him to bits. That's the only way. I've given you the rundown of just what these robots can do."

 
Koril sighed. "It is a problem. But Morah dominates the Synod, and
Aeolia
uses his power to rule Charon. No wonder I could not defeat them! You don't suppose . . . ? How many robots might there be?"

 
"Any number," Dumonia told him. "Who knows?
Perhaps Matuze herself.
But, remember your own power. Their minds are still the same, and their own Warden
powers
will be no greater than if they were human."

 
Koril nodded. "It's a terrible problem—here. Heavy weapons may be no good at alL
Still
we will work something out. We
will
act."

 
"Soon?"

 
"As soon as possible.
As soon as we have even a half-decent chance to win."

 
"That, then, will have to do," Dumonia told him.

 
Suddenly I yelled, "Zala! Zala Embuay!"

 
Everybody turned and looked at me as if I'd gone mad. Darva's expression was even worse.

 
"What makes you think of
herT
she
snapped.

 
I didn't even recognize the tinge of jealousy. "She was from Takannal
The
same world as Morah!"

 
Koril's eyes fixed grimly on me. "Who is this you speak of?"

 
"A woman who came to Charon with me," I told him. "We lived together in Bourget until the showdown there." Briefly I told him the rest—including her apparent involvement with the Destroyer's group there and her dual personality. "In fact," I added, "Korman was convinced that
she
was the Confederacy's assassin."

 
Koril looked at Dumonia. "Is that possible?
Two of them—here?"

 
Dumonia shrugged.
"Possibly.
But nothing I know about, although, let's face it, the Confederacy and I trust each other equally—and you know what that means."

 
The sorcerer chuckled slightly. 'This woman, then—she might be here."

 
"I didn't see her at Tully's encampment,
nor
any time since that shoot-out," I told him. "Still, if she's here, it might be time to get some answers to some questions."

 
Koril nodded. "I quite agree."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Kira

The huge complex beneath the
desert
of
Gamush
was indeed as impressive as it had appeared at first sight. Modern, efficient, and well-staffed, it was a mighty fortress, hidden completely from visual observation and also by more than a little subterfuge. Built as a modern lab and retreat while Koril was still in power, its location was deliberately obscured on maps and charts. Those who had been to it were saddled with spells of confusion that prevented their betraying, or even finding, the place again. By the same token, the isolated technical staff in the place was really stuck without Koril's supply missions and hardly able to betray him—or escape—even if so inclined. Tens of thousands of square kilometers of parched desert that all looked exactly the same, but in which nasty small sand predators lived—and above which the highly intelligent naril flew, ready to pounce upon and eat anything it could— were formidable barriers.

 
So, should Zala have been there, she was likely to be there still. Koril's clerks quickly located her. She had entered even before me and had been assigned mostly to maintenance. Poor Zala—even in the stronghold of the rebel headquarters she was deemed fit only to scrub the floors.

 
"Surely there can't be any connection between this woman and Morah," Darva protested as we walked down a long hall. "I mean, she can't be more than in her twenties—and Morah's been here since fifteen or more years before she was born. Their background has got to be just coincidence."

 
"That's pretty much what "Koril figures," I told her, "but I can't buy it.
There's
simply too many mysteries about her even without this new connection. Add to that a link between her and somebody high up in the Charonese power structure and I can't buy coincidence. There are too many worlds out there and too few prisoners sent here for that." "You don't still feel anything for her, do you?" I had to laugh. "Don't worry on that score. I never really did. Oh, at first I was fascinated—Korman's two minds, all the mystery. But when Zala stayed simple, mousy, little Zala she became boring pretty quickly. Besides, we're hardly even of the same race anymore." "Still, I'd like to go in with you."

 
"No! This has to be one on one. Remember, I don't look anything like I did before, so unless she's got some really good spies she'll have no link between me and the Park Lacoch she knew. That gives me a big advantage. Still, we don't know what's going to happen, and I don't want to have to worry about you."

 
We reached our destination. I turned and kissed Darva, then smiled "Wish me luck."

 
"Depends," she responded cautiously, but let me go into the room without further protest

 
The room had been set up according to my instructions, which meant one chair, a small table in front of it, and nothing else. I ducked my head, a habit I was getting used to, and entered the room.