Read Choice of the Gallant - Paradox Equation I Page 47


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  Dutch did a fast lookover of physical facilities when they landed on a world that wasn't human. It had been the third Fed explorers had discovered with people that looked like them and definitely advanced enough they wouldn't damage the culture introducing themselves. The bernisi had pointed them that direction, the opposite side of Fed space, and told them there were interesting worlds there. Dutch was rather sure they wouldn't have if they didn't know they'd carefully make sure of it first.

  He smiled when he stepped into Lissa and headed for the bridge. He didn't need to yell or query the ship comp for his brothers' locations. He hadn't since Clete had freed them of their barriers. It was very nice not being the only one who needed to. He'd never been jealous that Clete could find them by their feel and Lane knew where they'd be, but it had been a wish he'd never expected to have granted and meant a great deal to him.

  "The facilities are the best I've seen outside the Federation. They can do the exterior modifications. We've got one problem. There's a source for the element we need, but it's held by some pretty nasty people."

  "We've got a solution to that, but he's not going to like it."

  "Not Clete again! Lane, he's going to get real difficult to live with. We're using him. I don't like it."

  "It's not quite the same situation. He'll need you. I won't be much help. In fact, none."

  "You're hiding something. Something bad. I like this less and less. You expect to be... Show me."

  "Yes, you need to know. It's going to happen soon. I'm ready for it. You need to be. Take my hand. I warn you, it's going to be bad."

  "NO! I want it changed! I want it stopped! I won't let you! You can't do it, Lane! Please, try to find--"

  "Dutch, it's the only way I could find. You know I looked. I get through it. We get what we need. We clean up a mess. Clete ends it. Dutch, I grow stronger for it. We need what we get from it. It's my choice. I choose not to change it. Clete's coming. You'll have to get yourself under control. Accept it. This is the way I want it."

  "I'm going to talk to Clete. We have to work this out between us. You may be overruled, Lane. This will be harder on us than you can imagine. The choice isn't only yours to make. Stay put. I'll talk to you later."

  He caught Clete before he got to the ship and told him they needed to talk. He led him to a place he could explode, a place wide open and empty. Lane would wait. He believed they would accept his decision.

  "I told him we had the right to choose too, Clete. He's sure it shouldn't be changed. Truly believes changing it would negate a lot of things we accomplish. He's positive he can take it. Question is, can we. Can you?"

  "Leave me. Get as far away from me as you can and do it fast. He'll know our decision. I can feel yours. Go."

  Dutch ran for the ship. He found Lane, shoved him into an empty cabin and locked him in. He got himself locked into another and destroyed the remote for the door. He waited. Clete couldn't contain it much longer.

  Fury. Blind, unreasoning, fury. Rage. Dutch had a fraction of a second to recognize it, then it washed thought away. He fed it. Gave it his power.

  The police didn't have enough men. Brawls broke out everywhere, even in the police stations. It passed quickly. There weren't any severe injuries. The physicians marveled there weren't. Clete let Lane and Dutch out, then they went out and got drunk. They had a lot of company.

  Psychologists began long papers about the racial memory that had caused thousands to suddenly go berserk and attack with their bare hands. Psychics spoke of the release of the anger within. Theists preached of the fury of gods.

  It happened four days later. Dutch screamed in anger when he felt Lane lose consciousness, but he was a long way away. He yelled for Clete to stay with the ship. He was working very hard when he got back to Lissa. There was no point in trying to hide the pain he felt. Clete knew it and he knew he hurt just as much. Dutch let the tears he'd been holding back flow, when he laid down the tools he was holding and pulled him into his arms.

  "They picked him up with a couple dozen others on the university grounds. We can't even go after him. The ship won't be ready for days. The planetary police chased them, but were afraid they'd kill the innocents. Clete, they stunned them. Loaded them like cordwood on grav carts. Carried one each as a shield. Kids mostly. Students. I got the story from a semi-hysterical secretary who saw it out a window. Slavers. They've never hit a population center before."

  "And they won't again. Let's get the ship ready. I'm empty where he belongs. Dutch, stay close. You keep me here. Something in me wants to... break free and join him."

  "Damn. There's a lot to this he didn't see. I feel stretched. Pulled. Like you describe. It didn't happen when we were in the fleet. We've developed some kind of bond. A gestalt. More than the sum of its parts. I could find him by the direction of the pull. I'll know when it begins. Four systems away and I'll know."

  "I'm going to be very angry before this is over."

  "So will I, Clete. So will I."

  Lane awoke cold and chained. He knew much more time had passed than if he'd just been stunned. The lack of a headache would have told him that if he hadn't known where he was. He was on display and being sold. He forced himself to relax. The casual handling would soon end. The unit clamped to his head would complete its scan and his price would go up, way up.

  He saw the blue-skinned anthropoid's eyes widen when he looked at the screen. He nearly laughed as the unit was replaced with another. When it displayed its results, the blue male ran toward the central auction area. He had just become the most valuable piece of property on the planet. It didn't take long for that person to return with another. The memory began when the technician who had run for his superior spoke.

  "A perfect specimen, physically and mentally. Bidding will be heavy. A unique item of unknown origin, not of any species we've encountered before. We believe it breedable with technological assistance."

  "Take a sample. I want the results before he's auctioned. Sale contingent upon signing a no-cloning clause. He is unique, therefore trebly valuable. Minimum to be the highest any single sale has ever brought. Curtain the area. Private showing only. Ascertain if viewers can afford him. Post test results on the central screen. I'd take him myself if he wasn't going to make the clan rich."

  Lane jerked against his chains when the obese male touched him. The male smiled. He followed his memory. It held a path to what they needed.

  "I will warn you. Do not touch me again."

  "I have decided to do the sampling myself. Call me when the curtains are in place. Have a physician standing by. He will receive his first lesson as a slave from me. He will need repair. I find I wish to see the color of his blood."

  Lane followed the memory which showed him how to distance his mind from his body. He found the link with his brothers and sheltered his mind in their caring. He returned to himself strengthened. The pain was not great. The physician was efficient. There would be no evidence of abuse when he was viewed. He was carefully cleaned. The last thing that was done was the removal of the gag. The slaver hadn't wanted his clientele to know he was selling used goods.

  He knew what was coming, but couldn't help fighting against the eye cover and mouthpiece. The screens before his eyes were blank. He tried to distance himself, but the disk on his forehead prevented it. He would have cried out, but the mouthpiece stopped him. He was twice branded. His owner had claimed him, and his progeny. He fainted.

  He awoke and his tasks began. The screens filled and his mind worked. He had no choice. He was the creative element, the intuitive circuit, of a vast machine intelligence. He felt when his body was used, but the work never ceased. Nutrients dripped into his veins. Wastes were removed by filtration of his blood. He neither slept nor rested.

  He was aware of all that was being done. Aware of hand
s and laughter. Aware of being moved and touched. Damaged and healed. Aware of what was being taken from his mind and body. He was not aware of the passage of time, his ostentatious display, nor of the price paid for each integration performed, each touch felt.

  The one who had purchased the unique item at a price no other could have paid stroked him and smiled. He was an excellent example of why he could pay more than anyone else. He had recouped his price in a very few days. He invited his guests to enjoy themselves and ordered menial slaves to serve them. He would enjoy their envy. He kept a physician nearby. He always got carried away when he had an audience. This night was no exception. He became a bit angry with himself. He lost money when pain blanked the mind for several moments. He made up for it by selling chances on the use of his slave for a short period. He was delighted when the female who won invited all to participate. The mind blanked again, but the entertainment had been worth the cost.

  Dutch did a last systems check in engineering. They'd lifted as soon as Lissa was capable of it and had been working to complete her the entire journey. He ran for Clete as soon as he was done. He knew he wasn't on the bridge, but he didn't know why until Clete backed out of the area where they'd built their replicator and turned around. The photon cannon in his arms was an eloquent statement of his gentle brother's burning anger.

  "The ship's ready."

  "I felt it when you got sure. Carry this. I'll get the other one."

  "He didn't have this in his memory."

  "I don't plan on talking to him about it, Dutch. That society is diseased. We're going to perform surgery and remove the malignancy. It must be done before we release him. I'm not going to let him blame himself for it. I'm not going to feel guilty about it. Are you?"

  "No. I want the slaver. You take his owner."

  "Done."

  Two men took apart a world. They began with the ships that rose from the single city to drive them off. They demolished buildings and destroyed vehicles. Slaves slew their masters and protected the backs of the two men in slave clouts with photon cannons in their hands.

  They found Lane and Clete went wild. Fury set fire to the planet. This rage was directed. It had a focus. Dutch found the slaver and told him who he was. He looked at the bloody thing he held in his hand and smiled. He left the cannon. He didn't need it.

  Clete left his weapon too, just dropped it. The raging mob grew silent and watched when he began to take apart a building with his hands. They made way for the man who stalked the streets, spattered with blood and dripping gore.

  Dutch helped Clete demolish the building around Lane. When they reached the vault, where the one who had paid to use and abuse him so badly had taken shelter, they quickly rebuilt a scan unit to read the lock, then Dutch went back to Lane and Clete entered the vault alone. He knew it contained dozens of armed men. They would not stop him. The last thing, the one who had called himself Lane's owner, saw was Clete's cold eyes and icy smile.

  The people in the streets huddled together in silence. The rage was more than they could hold, more than all of them could encompass. It had passed beyond them.

  Dutch was gently disconnecting Lane when Clete got there. He'd been unconscious since the power to the machine had failed. He would soon awaken, but they'd be done before he did. They wrapped a slave clout around him, then they smashed the machine with their hands, took the rare element from its heart and wrapped Lane's hands around it.

  Clete ripped open a water main and they cleansed their blood-drenched bodies. They sat down and held Lane between them until he awakened, smiled softly and told them it was time to leave.

  No one else died. The freed slaves had no more anger. They watched the three walk away from a city that was no more. Retribution had come to the clans that had enslaved a god.

  Lane knew he was still a bit confused by the time he'd been in the machine, but he was sure he'd have remembered remembering… He quit chasing the thought in circles and just asked Dutch.

  "Is Clete all right?"

  "He will be. Just give him time, Lane."

  "He's so withdrawn."

  "DAMMIT! WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?! I'm sorry, Lane, but you had to know. You say you gained something. Well, he lost something."

  "Dutch, I guess my future memory isn't the only thing still only semi-functional. I don't understand."

  "I hope you never do."

  "Dutch, what did he lose?"

  "Innocence. Now, stop thinking about it. It's done. The choices were made. The blood spilled. The knowledge gained. Use it. Help me put this matrix together."

  Lane put one part of his mind on the task before him, but with another he sought to order his future memories and find the sound of Clete's laughter in them. When he found Clete's laughter, he saw what he must do.

  "Put it away, Dutch. We have something else to do. I can't tell you what. It's got to be a surprise. Keep Clete busy. We're changing course. We're close, so we'll be setting down in about an hour. Go away. I want the bridge. Don't ask. It's part of the healing."

  He commed ahead. They'd be waiting. It was the perfect time, halfway through the two-day event, just in time for the celebration of acceptance. He landed the ship and smiled. They were waiting.

  "Clete! Dutch! Let's go. Come on. We don't want to hold things up. They've got everything ready. Boy, am I glad the first thing we get are baths and appropriate costumes. You guys are grimy. Move. Move. Don't ask. You'll see."

  The bath was wonderful, if a bit overattended. The hot volcanic springs were the center of existence on Bernis, believed to hold great power of healing. The traditional warrior costumes suited them well. Clete and Dutch had learned they'd landed in the middle of Laire's wedding. They were ready in time for the acceptance ceremony and hurried to places in the Hall of Lords to hear it.

  "I, Tar a'Reth h'Mun, accept you as my mate. You burn with the fire of the hills. I claim your fire."

  "I, Laire Brith Kardina, accept you as my mate. You burn with the fire of the hills. I claim your fire."

  The hall rang with cheers. The Chief Lord had chosen and been chosen. It had been well past time. The Amarri woman was worthy. She had been worth the waiting. She would bear warriors of Bernis. Any woman touched by the fire of Bernis bore children to her people. Any man touched by it sired them. It was the greatest of the survival traits of their ancient species.

  "Congratulations, Laire. You're going to be very happy."

  "Thank you, Lane. Look, boys, don't go away. I've got to join the women. They want to see if I'm fit to go with them into battle. They're the home guard. Wish me luck. They're a formidable bunch."

  "Actually, they're the ground troops on any world, but you know that and are waiting to see if we do."

  "Caught, Lane, but still nervous."

  "You'll do great. They love a woman who can bring a chief lord to his knees. Right, Tar?"

  "Yes, Dutch, and they had begun to despair that I would find one. I'm glad you're here. This day is one of great victory for me."

  "You're a lucky man."

  "Yes, Clete, I am. I wasn't sure she'd accept me."

  "What?!"

  "Last night was our trial together. I feared her decision."

  "I still don't understand."

  "How do the humans say it? Oh, yes. Clete, my friend, you are a very tough act to follow."

  Clete stared at Tar for a moment and Dutch and Lane started to laugh. He was speechless. Tar grinned at him and suddenly he roared with laughter. The knot inside Lane untied. Innocence might be gone, but laughter had returned.

  Laire smiled at the sound. She helped the ladies lay their plan of battle for the evening. She made introductions, then whisked Tar away and left the dozen, dusky, unattached women around them. They were carrying carafes of wine and three extra glasses. She smiled at Tar. By morning, she and he would be viewed with near awe.

&nbs
p; "Oh, my head."

  "Don't talk so loud, Dutch. Where's Clete?"

  "You're asking me?"

  "You either, huh? I thought we'd decided not to do that again."

  "We were set up by an expert. Good Lord, I don't believe it!"

  "Well, now we know where he is. Come on. Let's get to the hot springs."

  "Yeah, before it gets embarrassing to be seen in public."

  Clete found them at the springs in the early afternoon. He had a rather large party escorting him. He smiled and sighed as he slipped into the water.

  "Lane, I've got a buzzing in my mind."

  "I noticed it too, Dutch. Strange sort of thing."

  "You know, it's kind of familiar. Bit distracting."

  "That's true. Any suggestions?"

  Clete looked from one to the other. They were leading up to something.

  "We could try asking him."

  "Asking me what, Dutch?"

  "Clete, could you please try not to purr so loud?!"

  They got quite a bit done that afternoon. Lane defined the space and programmed it while Clete and Dutch set up the matrix. The two parts had to be finished as a unit. They set the chunk of rare isotope into its brackets below the pilot's station and crossed their fingers. Lane sent current through it and started the program running. A wave of dizziness passed through them. They walked to the door of their small hold and Lane laid his hand against it.

  "Now we see if we really did it."

  He pushed the door open and walked through.

  "Incredible! Where did you get it from?"

  "Everywhere, Dutch. I started here with... well, a hotel lobby. Central herbarium, fountain... Like the fireplace? It'll burn forever. You can reshape it, poke it, add fuel. A real fire, but a program. Through those doors is a pool and gymnasium complex. Those lead to kitchen and dining areas. Remember all those questions I asked you? Come on. Let me show you the results."

  "Lane, I want to see that fire program."

  "I'll show it to you later, Dutch, but I want to show you what's down this hall first. This door leads to… "

  "Perfect! It's perfect! Incredible! The colors, the shapes. Wonderful!"

  "This is your space, Dutch. It's like a holosphere. You can change it, within limits. It'll always be a set of rooms, living quarters. You'll have to fill your closets, but never will any of us stand waiting for a shower again. Want to see Clete's?"

  "I want to see it."

  "Right across the hall, Clete. Come on. You know I'm enjoying myself immensely. Open that door."

  "Lane! How... "

  "Told you. Like a holosphere. The enclosed courtyard is primarily holoreality. It has day and night, sun and moonlight. The furnishings are 'big and comfortable.' The bedroom opens onto the courtyard too. You have a very modern frontier feel. Fireplace works like the one in the living room. You can even put it out and start a new one. There are birds in the trees, but I didn't see any need for bugs. Stock real food if you want it. These are really just large bedrooms. They're not meant to be complete homes. Come on. I want to show you mine."

  "I'm coming. I just want to see-- Lane, that's outrageous! That bed would hold eight!"

  "Large and comfortable. This way. End of the hall is mine. Like the door? Mahogany. Wood and brass. I'm going to fill the bookshelves with the real thing. Nice thing about holoreality, it doesn't have to be polished. Nice, big, four-poster in the next room. My fireplace is smaller, but went with the décor. Dutch, I didn't give you one because it just didn't fit with your ultramodern requests."

  "I have no complaints at all, Lane. I wouldn't use it. If I want to sit by a fire, I'll do it out in the central area. Lighting controls?"

  "Voice. Water is the only thing you get that's real. Food synthesizer is in the kitchen. This way."

  "We're going to really like this too, Dutch. He's real smug."

  "He deserves to be, Clete."

  "Yeah, he does."

  "Thank you."

  The kitchen was a homey place set up for synthesis or real cooking. It had a breakfast nook and a well-appointed dining area. The pool, spa and gymnasium complex had been very carefully planned. It was a very well-thought-out arrangement.

  "I've got one more set of doors. I don't even know exactly what's behind them. I know there's a lab and computers and... Well, this piece in the front is an add on. Behind those doors is everything in the Wabbit program. A finite infinity. I... peeked at the program. It made me miss Dad so much I stopped. Oh, I forgot! Hold is behind the other doors in the gym. Lissa is now the outside framework of her own dimension. All those numbers we crunched were to integrate a cargo transporter. It's a pretty complicated process. The cargo lift is no longer operational. Here are your keys. The hatch now has a lock. Look familiar don't they. Damn, I miss him."

  "We could visit, Lane."

  "Dutch is right. She needs a test run. We could find him. Look. Is it a problem?"

  "Clete, I'm sure I'd have noticed it."

  "Let's try something. I've been wondering if we could use your future memory more effectively. Remember how we hunted a solution when you saw those drug dealers were... going to kill him? Let's see what would happen."

  "Clete, you know what… "

  "Yes, I know how hard it was to let Dutch take the chance and have faith Dad would be in time to save him, but they're both alive and they wouldn't be if we hadn't."

  "Clete's right, Lane. We need to be able to use it as a way to gauge our actions."

  "Dutch, I think you just like making me dizzy. All right. The couches by the fireplace. We... Oops! We hurry! Come on! Things are already starting to change."

  They laughed and ran after him. They'd made the decision to make a test run and find their father. The future Lane saw was changing. He didn't quite make the couch. He was laying on the floor giggling. Clete picked him up and put him on one.

  "I don't believe it! They were defined in the program! He surprised me again!"

  "How about explaining that, Lane?"

  "We're complete, Dutch. Engines, computer banks, everything. The banks only hold basic information. Telas couldn't have carried their store of knowledge, but the processing capacity is there. You know, I'll bet he carried... It would have taken most of his memory. For us from Dad. A present. He wouldn't have trusted it to anything else. I thought... Clete, you even commented you were worried because you'd seen him using the ship comps to store info. Now we know why. We also know why even Dad couldn't remove Telas' augmentation. He's trusted us with the best-kept secret in the Fed. No Fed comp could have held all the program. His living brain is the basis of the system. Alice lies behind the doors in the gym."

  "Alice? All of... Yippee! I don't have to spend years building engines!"

  There were some problems. Lissa didn't fully integrate into the system. They went to work on it. First they dropped the transporter. It was an insoluble lump in an otherwise smooth blend. They redesigned the bridge. In fact, they practically gutted her and started over. They finally hit the solution when they put her on the inside instead of the outside. They put her back together. She was a ship within a ship.

  They moved the controls for time/space flight off the bridge and into their living room. They had two ships. Lissa could be dropped free and used independently. They dubbed the time/space ship Melissa. They entered it in her log. They hoped she liked it.

  Lissa had transporters and weapons. Melissa did not. Melissa could travel in time and was virtually indestructible. Lissa was not. Lissa fit inside Melissa. They thought it a very neat arrangement, especially when they learned Melissa could be made very small on the outside even with Lissa in her. It meant they could 'stack' their father's ship in her.

  When they told Melissa to choose her own shape, they decided she definitely had a sense of humor and was 'sweet' on Lane. She'd found the perfect wa
y to tease him. Her shape of choice was a small 'wood,' scarf-draped, fortune-telling booth.

  They gave up trying to figure out why Lissa was in Melissa even when she wasn't. The answer had to be because Melissa wanted her there. They just stepped through the door in the back of the booth, stepped out of Lissa's hatch, slapped it closed, walked two meters to the hold and entered the living room, even when Melissa was in Lissa's hold. Their ship had a unique personality and a stubborn streak. She was not a copy of Alice and they were delighted with her.

  "Lane, where and when do we find Dad?"

  "At one of his favorite fishing spots. About the same amount of time has passed for him as for us."

  "Better. Why were you so worried about it, Dutch?"

  "I don't know, Clete. Yes I do. His voice. I want to hear his voice just as it was. Just as I hear it in my memory. I'll never forget hearing my mother's voice again. I was twenty-three and somewhere I was four. I was a brand new ensign. Her voice came over the comm channel. The captain sent me to sickbay. I was useless on the bridge."

  "Don't tell him."

  "What?"

  "Don't tell him. You ache when you talk about it. He didn't think about you running into her. It was a scar he didn't intend to open."

  "But, Clete, it was wonderful. I... Oh, I see what you mean. It brought it all back. I heard her and knew when she would die. How alone I'd be. Yeah. I won't tell him."

  "You two get by the hatch. We have to get out before he runs for it. Others who arrive in his vicinity like we will intend to kill him."

  "Don't be far behind, Lane."

  "I won't, Dutch. Hurry. We're about to land."

  They stepped out and Dutch yelled, "Dad!" He'd been halfway through the door. He spun around and stared at them. He was still standing with his mouth open and one hand on the door when Lane joined them.

  He stepped away from the door and smiled. They ran for him like boys. Clete steadied him until he got his breath back. Dutch had nearly knocked him flat.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "Dad, that has a rather obvious answer. We smelled fish frying a universe and several thousand years away."

  "Dutch, you haven't changed."

  "No, but you have. You've been taking very good care of yourself. Gotten very comfortable. No workouts, good food--"

  "Ignore him. We built Melissa and she needed a test run. This is where we all wanted to bring her, to find you. What's wrong?"

  "Clete, do you have any idea how hard it was to say goodby to you? Now I have to do it again!"

  He hadn't changed. He still knew exactly when they needed to be shouted at. They told him how they'd filled their years and asked how he'd filled his. He told them of his wanderings and his battles. He spoke of people he'd met and parted from. Clete ached for him. They were three together. He was, as always, alone. Even though he knew he'd have disagreed and pointed out Alice was always with him, it still hurt.

  They showed him their ships, introduced him to Melissa and talked long hours before the fire. Lane told him they'd learned to choose the changes they would make. Gallant laughed when Clete walked out of the kitchen, handed him a towel and noted his surge of relief had been a surprise to him too and he was cleaning up cocoa while he made more.

  He spent several days with them. One evening his gentle smile told them it would be their last. He wouldn't say goodbye. He'd said it too many times to people he loved. In the morning he was gone. They set course for the doorway. They would see him again. Someday.