The Nonborn King (19 page)

Soon it will be dawn. The approaching sun is heralded by a distinctive aethenc thunder There is a program to counter solar ionization, but it is much more difficult than the stormemendator- Observe and follow. Cling fast and look sharp.

We search! This is her aura that we seek, and it is known that she hides in the Betic Cordillera, the southernmost range in Spam. Sweep. Scan Ignore the fuzzy mental blobs of the Firvulag, of the scattered Howlers, of the tiny colonies of outlaw humans, of the occasional outpost of Afaliah dependents. Focus wide, focus narrow! Use the mind's eye and ear and the special seekersense that tunes only to the aura ..

There is nothing

(But why? Sharn was screened, and you found him easily )

Sharn's powers are those of an infant. But we'll wait. The black bird flies at dawn, and sometimes it calls- When that happens, her mind opens as she listens for him, for her Beloved. She would not respond to us. but she may let fall an inadvertent clue to her eyrie's location Then we can,

(Elizabeth. That.)

I see. I see and hear. Above Mount Mulhacen! Of course. She would be holed up there' And now come forth to call.

Culluket!

The raven soars toward the stratosphere The sky above the Sierra Nevada is cloud-free and lucent in dawn.

Culluket! I know you're alive.

She calls to him who joined with her in mutual thanatophilia, satisfying himself but unaware that her fulfillment would also come, after she had escaped from him, when she did to the helpless earth what had been done to her.

Culluket, answer!

See her wheeling in the high light, glistening. No mindscreens cover her now, no psychocreative wall guards her casting Ursense as she seeks the hated love. But he is a redactor, a mind-changer, a mind-borer, a mind-masker. He is guileful and strong and the shadow of the bird passes over him unaware Culluket.. -you must be there. Help me So find him, YOU!

(Elizabeth! Has she perceived us?)

No. Creyn, be silent!

You helped me before I turn again to you now! Help me find my Beloved. Tell me where he is. Talk to me! Do you see me flying here? If you speak to me, this time I'll answer you'

See her triumphal replay of the love-deed, the opening of the Gibraltar Gate- See, through her memory, exactly how the cataclysm was accomplished. 0 God, how (In simultaneous relief and shock, for her power was not singular after all, but augmented.)

Help me again I won't hide from you. We can be friends.

Listen, Creyn! No. wait, I must phase in still another emendator. Not only is this transmission faint, but it is also multiple- an inexpert metaconcerted effort, poorly aimed, coming from a vast distance. And it is not on the exotic thought-mode. Not on the bastard mode of the torced humans here in the Pliocene It is on the unique human-operant mode. God almighty, my own mode. Help me, Creyn. Prop me up, dear friend. Trace this, identify its source, find oul anything you can about it

Devils? Is that you? Yes, Felice.

Hello, Devils.

Hello, Felice We've called you for such a long time

I know But I didn't trust you. I have so many enemies Poor Felice. We only want to help. We did help you.

Help me again. Show me where Cull's hiding. Who? ... Ah So. How interesting.

Never mind that. Show me now!

Dear Felice We would if we could But we're far away from you. Far from him, too. To find him, we'd have to come to you All the way from North America.

Ohhhh

Not to worry. We'll be glad to do it. We've been so anxious to meet you. No.' You could steal... could try to trick me' Just like that damn little gold swindler. Aiken Drum!

We wouldn't do that, Felice. We're not like Aiken or your other enemies. We'll prove our friendship

We'll do more than find your lover- We'll bring him to you! You could do that?

One of us is a coercer-redaclor of masterclass stature.

The rest of us are strong, too. And we're young,

Felice. Like you! We believe in action. You won't mess around with ME.

Of... of course not We want you to be our leader You're stronger than any of us. Maybe. But when you act together, l^isien. Only one of you can come.

That won't work, Felice. We'll need at least five to coordinate the retrieval of your Culluket. Five? All right. But that's all. You understand?

Perfectly. We can help you in other ways, too, you know. And you can help us! . Now indicate your

precise location in Spain. I'm here. Do you see my lair on Mount Mulhacen?

We do. We'll come to you in fifteen days. Wait for

us Goodbye, Felice our friend. Goodbye, Devils.

Elizabeth sat across the table from Creyn. The storm was gone. Sunbeams from the eastern windows struck the embers in the hearth, turning them into dusty white lumps

"When I first arrived in the Pliocene," Elizabeth said, "I farsearched the entire planet hoping to find other operant human beings like myself."

"I remember It was the evening that we rode from Castle Gateway to Roniah. You pul a strong barrier up, but I was aware that you were ranging."

Elizabeth slumped in her chair, her face haggard. Creyn sent a telepathic summons to Mary-Dedra, the gold-lore human woman who had once been a confidant of Mayvar, who now served as Elizabeth's personal attendant.

The farspeaker said, "I detected only a single ambiguous trace on the human mode. It seemed to be clear over on the other side of the Earth. I knew my scan was incompetent because my ultrasenses were still convalescent, and so I dismissed that faint indication as an echo- But it was real."

"You were unable to scrutinize it closely?"

"Long-distance farsensing is a specialized business requiring great stamina. A healthy Grand Master can make brief stabs, something like the way human swimmers make deep skindives. But it's impossible to sustain the effort without special supportive equipment or help from a number of other minds." She passed a weary hand over her forehead. "Now, with your help, i should be able to gain some information about these so-called devils. But I know who they must be." God, I know too well.

They shared the knowledge. Creyn said, "They have been out of the Tanu mind for a long time. Twenty-seven years. When the group of operant humans came through the timegate and contended against our battle-company, we suffered a terrible defeat. The affair was expunged from the official record when the invaders left Europe. Only a few of us, most notably the late Gomno!, actively speculated on what had become of the human operants. We can guess why he would be interested! But Gomnol's farsensing ability was only moderate. He never tracked them down."

"The rebels are in the Western Hemisphere. In a region that was called Florida on Elder Earth." Elizabeth's eyes closed and she drifted in pained abstraction. "I was only seventeen at the time of the Metapsychic Rebellion. An apprentice preceptor on an obscure little snowy planet. But I was already a part of the Unity, and I'll never forget the reaction of those three hundred billion exotic minds to the attempted coup- The Milieu had taken such a chance with us, Creyn, admitting humanity to their wonderful civilization while we were still psychosocially immature. And we betrayed their trust."

"I understand that the Rebellion was brief, that the active phase lasted only a few months."

"True. Nevertheless, the scars took years to heal. It was humanity's most profound humiliation.. .The Human Polity acted as ruthlessly as it had to do to put down the conspiracy. There was great suffering among the innocent. In the end, though, the Milieu was stronger than ever."

"Another felix culpa?"

She opened her eyes and regarded the exotic man quizzically. "Human history seems to abound with them."

An inner door opened. Mary-Dedra, carrying a tray with breakfast, entered with a diffident mental greeting. Creyn rose to leave.

"Will you be strong enough to range out again tonight?" he inquired.

"Oh, yes." Elizabeth was resigned. "We'll have to track Felice's devils to their home ground. Count them, identify them positively if we can, then decide how best to counter their threat- You rest up and join me at seven." She smiled mordantly- "Then we'll try our first little trip to hell and gone."

13

IN A BAYOU OF THE SUWANEE ON THE WEST COAST OF OCALA

Island, it was two o'clock in the morning The gigantic silver fish was quiet for the moment, sulking deep in the moondappled black water, taking a recess from its contest with Marc Remillard

For sixteen hours the bulldog tarpon had fought to break free of the pertinacious tether linking it to the man The tarpon was 430 centimeters long and weighed 295 kilos Set in one comer of its jaw was a 5/0 hook with a strongly armored leader (for the tarpon of the Pliocene Epoch had sharp teeth) The tippet, that section of the tine that actually held the fish, was so weak that it could be snapped by a ?-kilo weight Nevertheless, the tarpon had been unable to free itself, so great was the skill of the angler who had played it Now both man and fish were reaching the limits of their endurance Before long, either the fisherman would make a mistake in judgment, betrayed by his agonized muscles, and the line would break, or the tarpon would succumb to syncope and float helpless at the end of the fatal thread while the gaff descended

Marc eased the butt of his big flyrod in the heavy leather cup of his belt, waiting for the fish to recommence the fight The only sounds were distant splashes of leaping mullet and the squawk of a night heron Marc's breathing was slow and controlled as he exerted a biofeedback maneuver to flush fatigue products from the cells of his burly shoulders and arms His ultrasenses were deaf and blind He could not perceive the lurking tarpon's movements because he would not Even at this climactic juncture, he gave the fish the sporting advantage he deemed suitable He did not track n with farsight, nor attempt to coerce its movements, nor exert any psychokmetic force upon it. nor strengthen rod, reel, or line beyond their normal specifications by means of his creativity In one way only did Marc deviate from the angling technique of nonmetapsychics He fished alone, and so he exerted mental power to steady the skiff so that it would not founder during the struggle.

Now Marc was aware of a subtle change in the tension of the line One moment the water of the channel was as flat as a pool of ink, and the next, it blew open with volcanic violence An immense writhing shape, glistening under high moonlight, cannoned more than six meters into the air, turning end over end Its saucer-sized eyes reflected a funous orange and its gill covers rattled like a gigantic raganella.

Marc bowed to the fish, lowering the tip of the fly rod to ease the line while it was vulnerable in the air The great silver creature crashed back into the water with a splash like a falling grand piano A split second later it was up again, twisting and thrashing in a second leap The skiff rocked Streaming with water from head to toe. Marc shouted encouragement to his adversary It was the largest tarpon he had ever hooked, and it was nearly his.

The fish ran at him Marc took in slack As he expected, the tarpon erupted again, this time in a soaring saltation that earned it on an impact trajectory with the skiff Laughing uproariously, Marc sen! the craft whizzing out of the way, just barely The tarpon's reentry sent a wave over the gunwale that half filled the boat Marc banished the water with his PK a moment before the tarpon came up on the opposite side and whirled on the surface like a runaway dynamo, trying to throw the hook.

It went down again and the reel whined as the fish raced for the flats on the left side of the channel Marc guided the skiff after it, alert for the next leap And it came, with the enormous plated body climbing up, up, as if in slow motion, tossing diamond drops to the moon in an expanding cloud, clashing its jaws, uttering an explosive grunt at the top of its leap, and then falling back with an impact that nearly sent Marc overboard- But the hook was still secure.

The tarpon ran again and the man followed. The next leap was half-heaned, the great body leaving the water for only a fraction of its length. Its subsequent surface struggles seemed weaker, not even raising foam. Marc could not resist calling out to the fish on the declamatory mode:

Now you gorgeous bastard! Now I've got you... A powerful beam of light stabbed out of the darkness upriver. It transfixed Marc standing there in the boat, ready to make the delicate adjustment of line tension. Physically as well as mentally blind, he frozeThe tarpon leaped. The fragile 6.?5-kilo test tippet snapped. Papa we've found her we've found Felice! Too late, the psychoenergelic beacon died. It was Hagen's, as was the thought projection so jubilant and heedless, rapt in its own triumph. The launch carrying the young people came knifing down the bayou, then slammed to a halt as though meeting a glass wall. It fetched up wallowing and shuddering in a mass of chop some 150 meters away from the fisherman.

Off the bow of the skiff, the giant tarpon was rolling, gulping air, savoring freedom. Marc scanned it carefully, making sure it had sustained no serious injury during the long battle, and then disengaged the hook with his PK. The fish sank slowly into the black water. Marc's farsight saw it swim off in the direction of the gulf. Papa...

Cloud knew, even if her brother did not, what their intrusion had cost. Her regret and apology welled out only to strike another barrier. The metapsychic wall that had restrained the launch now dissolved and the current carried the larger craft down upon the skiff.

Marc reeled in the slack line, watching the launch approach. The three other occupants were, as he had expected, the archconspirators among the younger generation: Etaby Gathen, Jillian Morgenthaler, and Vaughn Jarrow. These were attempting to put a bold front on their blunder. It was plain that none of them had anticipated anything other than welcome when they sped out from Lake Serene to "surprise" Marc with their news.

The two craft met. Jillian stopped the launch with her PK, dropped the anchor, and ran to the stem to take the skiff in low. Hagen put the ladder down, mind still asmile, stubbornly determined to tough out the faux pas "Felice is in Spain, Papa. just as we suspected. Holed up in a cave on Mount Mulhacen in the Sierra Nevada." Picture. Bearing. "And, get this! She's freely invited us to come to her!"