Mutant Legacy (24 page)

“Because he was human, dammit. As human as you or me.”

A fugitive smile flitted across her face. “Wouldn’t you say he was a little bit more than that?”

“I’m not denying he was special, Alanna. Don’t play semantic games with me. Special, yes. Holy, no. And I shudder to think of the consequences of promulgating this idea.”

“I really don’t see the harm in it.”

I leaned toward her. “Are you crazy? Haven’t you heard the outcry against us ever since you published the bloody thing?”

“Don’t raise your voice to me, Julian. I’m not a child. And what of the complaints? People have been screaming at Better World ever since it began. I’m so accustomed to it that I would think it was odd if they stopped.”

“Don’t forget the bombings.”

“Those were terrible and unfortunate. But there haven’t been any since Rick died. Whoever it was has obviously gone away.”

“Which doesn’t mean they couldn’t resume at any time.”

“What is this, your sermon on the mount? And what are you working on now?”

“Why, volume two, of course. Just as you said. The first book was so successful that this seemed like a natural progression. It’s important to get it out there as soon as possible.”

“And how are you going to explain it? Tell people that Rick had a few afterthoughts in the afterlife and came back to discuss them with you?”

She was complacent beyond belief. “I don’t have to explain it. The need and interest should be obvious. Besides, I don’t understand why you’re so upset. Would you feel better if I had called it
Julian’s Way
instead?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. But she had strayed uncomfortably close to the truth and I began to bristle defensively. “What I object to is your fanciful distortion of a real person.”

“I’m sorry you don’t like what I’ve written, Julian. I was going to ask for your input in the next volume but since you’re so obviously hostile to this entire project, I won’t bother. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”

Was anybody, aside from Rick, ever as stubborn as my half-sister?

Aside from outright coercion, I couldn’t stop her from finishing the manuscript for the next volume of
Rick’s Way
. And I was unwilling to subject Alanna to mind control. Perhaps I was too squeamish. Too ethical. But I wouldn’t do it. I turned and walked away from her in silence.

Volume two outsold volume one.

Alanna had done it—won control of Rick’s image and, through it, potential control of the entire Better World organization. She seemed determined to return it to its original status as a cult of personality with herself as keeper of the flame. If she was successful, all my plans for therapy clinics and healing studies would perish. I had to stop her before she pushed us completely off-course.

i admit now
that the methods I used to fight
Alanna were not admirable. The only excuse I can offer is that I was firmly convinced she was wrong to distort and gild my brother’s image, and infuriated by her arrogating areas of Rick’s legacy that, rightly or wrongly, I viewed quite possessively as mine alone.

The pageantry, the art competition, the publication of
Rick’s Way
, all were intended to deify Rick. But that wasn’t what Better World was about. At least, that’s what I believed.

Aside from the weekly sharings, where some contact was unavoidable, I shunned Alanna.

On her part, she seemed just as happy to stay away from me, aloof and private in the apartments she had shared with Rick. No doubt she was already busily at work on
Rick’s Way
, volumes three through twelve. As the weeks passed, our estrangement crystallized and seemed to become permanent.

Perhaps I had lost perspective. Perhaps I was more power-hungry than I knew. Regardless of the reason, I slowly became convin

She seemed determined to cram Rick’s word—at least her version of it—down the gullet of every person on the planet, and wanted to devote Better World’s resources and energy to an enormous outreach program to support her scheme.

But I wanted no more volumes of
Rick’s Way
published, no more movies, no publicity stunts. What I wanted to do was help people, teach sharing techniques, and concentrate on the daily business of Better World. I had no more interest in indoctrinating new members than I had in performing lobotomies by brain-burning. As far as I was concerned, the membership of Better World was barely manageable as it was. We had more than enough work to do and we would honor Rick best by doing it quickly and efficiently rather than grinding out endless memorials to him. Alanna’s plans threatened to stretch us to the breaking point if not beyond it.

And so, I turned to Betty. Early one spring morning I poked my head into her office.

“Betts,” I said. “We’ve got to talk. Privately.”

“Of course, Julian.” She shooed her assistants from the room and locked the door behind them. “What can I do for you?”

I settled into a webseat and gazed out the window at the mountains: the faintest hint of green covered them, as though, overnight, some pointillist had attacked with a giant paintbrush. “Remember way back when?” I said. “You had this wild theory about a conspiracy against Rick.” I gave Betty a disarming grin. “Surely you remember.”

Her cheeks turned bright pink. “Well, it
was
a crazy idea, wasn’t it? I’m ashamed to remember how I ranted and raved.”

I took her hand and looked deeply into her eyes. “What if I told you that it wasn’t such a crazy idea?”

“Oh, Julian, you’re teasing me. Stop it.”

“No, Betts. Listen to me.” I took a deep breath, knowing that what I was about to do was absolutely necessary but hating myself a little bit for it just the same. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but I’ve done some checking around on my own. And I’ve become convinced that Alanna not only wanted Rick to die but was instrumental in hastening his death.”

“
Alanna?
” Betty obviously couldn’t have been more surprised if I had suggested that she herself had plotted Rick’s death. “Whatever do you mean? I don’t quite understand what you’re talking about, Julian.”

“I know, Betty. It was hard for me to accept, too. At first. But now I’m certain.” I leaned closer. “Remember when Rick was so sick that I came back from Brazil to be with him?”

“Of course.”

“And remember how Alanna refused to bring in a doctor?”

“But that was because of what Rick had told her.”

I nodded gravely. “So she claimed, yes. But did you ever hear Rick say anything like that to her?”

“Well, no, now that you mention it.” I heard the first faint hints of doubt enter her voice. “But Rick was always telling Alanna things when they were alone. Everybody knew that.”

“Think about it, Betts. Does that really sound like something that Rick would do? When he wanted ten bodo help people so badly? When he had so much work left to do? Do you think that he willingly put himself in a position where he could burn out and die? Or was he the victim of a calculated plan to create a martyr for Better World?”

Her mouth worked for a moment and tears glittered in her pale blue eyes. “I always told him that he worked too hard. I was always asking him to slow down, to rest. But he never listened.”

“Alanna never let him listen, did she? And you see the success she’s had now with
Rick’s Way.
Would she have been able to do that if Rick were still alive?”

“No, I guess not But you can’t seriously think that Alanna was egging Rick on, telling him to work harder and harder until he collapsed!”

“I don’t know, Betty. I just don’t know.” But my tone said exactly the opposite: that I was convinced, and if Betty wanted to stay loyal to me she would be convinced, too.

Of course, I could have coerced her by direct telepathic contact and forced her to see my point of view and support my plan. But I didn’t like doing something like that to a friend.

Not that I’m proud of the way I
did
handle things—perhaps, in the end, I would have been fairer to Betty if I
had
just hypnotized her rather than lied to her, leading her along a tangled path of reason until she became so anxious about aligning herself with me that she accepted whatever I told her without question. Why is hindsight so clear when it is also so very useless? A friend once told me that it was proof of God’s contempt, but I don’t think I quite agree. Not yet, anyway.

Step by calculated step I led Betty down the path I had devised until she was as willing to oust Alanna as I.

“I can’t believe it,” Betty said, chagrined. “To think that I trusted Alanna all along when the proof was there before me the entire time. She pushed Rick right over the brink, Julian. We’ve got to stop her.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

The only problem now was how to go about it.

Better World was administered by me, Alanna, and Betty. The only way to force one of the directors out was by direct proof that he or she had acted recklessly or illegally in the interests of Better World. Or a vote of two to one.

A few days after I had spoken with Betty I called a directors’ meeting.

Alanna protested that she had too much to do. Couldn’t we wait until April or May? I assured her that there was simply too much to be discussed right now.

We met the next afternoon in the small conference room on the ground floor of B.W. headquarters. It was a sunny day in early spring and the sounds of drilling and other noises from construction of a new wing for the museum filtered into the room.

“Well, Julian?” Alanna stared at me pointedly. “What’s so important?”

“It’s really quite simple,” I said. “Betty and I want you out of Better World by tonight. We’d prefer that you go of your own free will, but we are prepared to vote you out, if necessary.”

Alanna gasped. Then, recovering quickly, she glared at me in annoyance. “You’re joking,” she said. “What’s gotten into you, Julian? Are you finished wasting my time or do you have any other funny little tfund at hings that you’d like to share with me?”

Betty said nothing.

Alanna’s face turned a slightly deeper shade of green. “You’re not serious about this? I don’t believe it. You’ve both lost your minds. Together.”

“I’m sorry,” Betty said.

“I don’t want sympathy,” Alanna shot back. “Sanity, yes. Just give me one good reason why I should leave.”

“Because of your role in the conspiracy, of course,” Betty said.

“Conspiracy? What conspiracy?”

Betty looked pained and confused. She turned to me for succor, but cruelly—out of cowardice, I suppose—I let her deliver the actual blow.

“You know very well,” Betty said. “The plan you hatched to let Rick die so that Better World would have a martyr and you could write
Rick’s Way
.”

“What?” Alanna stood up. She looked astounded, flabbergasted. “Is that what you think? No. No, it’s not possible. You can’t be that crazy. What is this all about?

“Don’t sound so innocent,” I said.

“You’re really serious,” Alanna said, in wonder. “And, Betty, you’re in on this, too. I can hardly believe it. Do you actually think I wanted Rick dead?”

“Well, yes,” Betty said. “Wasn’t I clear on that point? You ruthlessly forced Rick to his death.”

“My God.” Alanna’s eyes were wide. “I’m almost glad Rick is gone. He absolutely would not believe this either.”

Feeling like an absolute heel, I said, “Spare me the sentiment, Alanna.”

Astonishment flickered across Alanna’s face again. “Why are you both trying to do this to me?”

Betty looked momentarily stunned by Alanna’s outburst and I decided I had better move matters along. “There’s no doubt about it,” I said. “It’s obvious that you were planning this from the start, undermining Rick’s health, encouraging him to push himself without rest, without medical attention—”

“Julian, you know that’s not true.”

I continued as though I had not heard her. “Without medical attention, working long hours, holding mass healings everywhere.”

“This is absurd,” Alanna said. “These are insane lies. Why in the world would you think I would ever do such a thing?”

“To consolidate your power in Better World. And to provide the definitive version of Rick in
Rick’s Way
.” I stared at her, daring her to prove me wrong. “To control his legacy.”

She laughed mirthlessly. “That’s it, really. This isn’t about my part in some supposed death plot. This is all about
Rick’s Way
, isn’t it? About control. You can’t possibly think I wanted Rick dead. I loved him, and you know it.”

“You did, once,” I said. “But you also had ambitions of your own that you were forced to abandon for Rick’s dream. You wanted to write, Alanna. And now you have an audience of hundreds of thousands for your work.”

Alanna seemed struck dumb by this. She shook her head in either disagreement or amgre deathazement. “Let me get this straight,” she said, after a moment. “I wanted Rick to die so I could take over Better World and resume my aborted literary career by writing
Rick’s Way
?”

“You wanted to build a god,” I said.

“But Julian,” Betty said, “I don’t understand. Rick is a god already, isn’t he? Yes, of course he is.” She nodded docilely, mindlessly, and I restrained a shudder of out-and-out horror.

“That’s precisely what he is, Betty,” Alanna said. “Never doubt it.” She turned toward me. “No, Julian, I won’t play by your rules. But thanks, anyway.”

Angry words boiled within me, and with them, self-loathing. What role had I taken on here? How could I cavalierly treat friends and family as pawns? I had never intended, never wanted to use people in this way. But the game had gone too far. There was no retreating from my position now without creating a civil war within Better World. Either Alanna had to leave or else knuckle under to my control.

“If you don’t clear out of here I’ll have you removed by force. Reluctantly.”

“You would if you could,” she said, crossing her arms. “But would you really care to pit your security people against my telekinetic skills?”

“Alanna, you can wreck the place if you want to, but in the end I’ll have you removed, even if I have to put you under direct telepathic control and frog-march you to the door myself.”

Her gaze cut right through me. “Oh, I’ll spare you that, Julian. I’m afraid that you would enjoy it too much.”

“Then let’s settle this peacefully, shall we?” I said. I managed a conciliatory smile. “I could see your remaining at Better World in a reduced capacity. I might even agree to additional volumes of
Rick’s Way
. Of course, all future versions would have to pass by me before they could be published.”

Alanna nodded but I could see the contempt in her eyes. “Oh, you mean if I’m a good girl, then I get to stay?” she said. “And what will you do, issue a report card for me every quarter? Or perhaps you’d rather turn me into a zombie like Betty here. Easier to handle that way.”

“A zombie? What do you mean?” Betty said. “I resent that comment!”

“Oh, Betty, don’t you see the truth? He’s got you completely hypnotized. You, of all people.”

“You’re just feeling guilty, Alanna,” I said. “Stop trying to point the finger at me. My offer still stands.”

She shook her head. “No, Julian. No on every count. I won’t leave, and I won’t turn
Rick’s Way
over to you.”

With that she turned and hurried from the room.

By that afternoon Alanna had barricaded herself behind several telekinetic fields
and
a layer of Better World staffers who were still especially loyal to her.