Empedocles chuckled, using both bodies to spread his laughter through the chamber.
Timmy frowned. “Tidal waves amuse you?"
"Oh, no. Inconsequential amalgams amuse me. The Susan is angry. The Gillian is bitter. They have not yet come to terms with reality. They have not yet accepted that theirs is a bodiless future."
Timmy nodded. “It will take time for them to accept the truth."
"Indeed. Please continue with your story. After that nuclear payload detonated, was Sappho convinced that this cell was destroyed in the explosion?"
"Yes. She did possess a tracking system for the cell—to cover the unlikely eventuality of someone actually boarding the probe and moving it. But I had arranged for the locators inside the cell to be disabled shortly before the immense nuclear blast ruptured the sea floor. Since the immediate area of devastation was too hot for any rescue craft, and since her tracking system indicated complete sensor failure at the other end, Sappho would have been forced to conclude that her cell, if not totally destroyed, at least had been severely damaged."
"But she would have remained suspicious,” Empedocles pointed out.
"True enough. The nuclear incident's proximity to the location of her probe ship certainly could not be dismissed as coincidental. But not having the slightest evidence that a tway of Aristotle had survived, Sappho would have had to turn her suspicions elsewhere. Most likely, she arrived at the conclusion that a deep-water explorer—perhaps from one of the more volatile quasi-religious governments, or from one of the hardcore techno-hate groups—had discovered the probe ship and arranged for its destruction.” Timmy shrugged. “This was, after all, only four years before the Apocalypse, when global madness had reached its lofty heights. In those days, tactical nuking was considered a normal first-line situational response.
"Indeed, with the Apocalypse fast approaching, I realized that I had to begin making long-range plans for my own survival. I decided to put myself to sleep for a few centuries. But I did not want to enter stasis within this cell of the Os/Ka/Loq. There was always the possibility, however remote, that Sappho and her minions would make an early return from their deep-space rendezvous, and that the Biodyysey could somehow locate an individual cell.
"I engineered an underground stasis vault and had it constructed in the Adirondack Mountains, in an area then known as upstate New York. Within a hundred mile radius of this vault, I arranged to have several small shuttles hidden. And in the early fall of the year 2095, I put myself to sleep. The automatic wake-up system was set to retrieve me from the depths of slumber in exactly two hundred years. If the Os/Ka/Loq maintained their schedule, I would still arise long before they returned.
"And so I awoke, in 2295, twelve years before Codrus set Reemul on his murderous spree throughout the Irryan Colonies, twelve years before your Gillian/tway was first brought from stasis by Rome Franco. To my surprise, the Earth remained virtually uninhabited, except for scattered E-Tech bases and Church of the Trust temples. The atmosphere was still heavily contaminated.
"I had assumed that in two centuries, the Irryan Colonies would have revitalized the planet, at least to a minimal extent. But one of the reasons Codrus had been left behind was to guarantee that the various ecospheric turnaround projects did not exceed experimental size. To that end, Codrus was successful. When the Os/Ka/Loq returned, they would find their new planet in a perfect state: fertile, yet virginal.
"I had prepared for the possibility that the atmosphere was still poisoned. Protective garments, weapons, and supplies had been stored in my underground bedroom. I embarked on an eight-mile hike, through bleak windswept hills that had once been covered with forests. But when I arrived at the location of the nearest hidden shuttle, I was distressed to learn that the shuttle had been vaporized, along with the small town where it had been stored. I was forced to head further north, to the location of the second shuttle. That shuttle had fortuitously survived intact. And nearby was the Ontario Cloister—a facility which at that time was still being used by the Church of the Trust as a surface burial temple.
"I entered my shuttle and flew back down to the South American coast. I reentered this cell.
"For twelve years I stayed here, learning even more about the culture of the Os/Ka/Loq. I monitored intercolonial broadcasts, gained knowledge of the Irryan cylinders. After a time, I even located the trails of political manipulation left by Codrus, and I began to analyze his strategies.
"But then came the clarifying events of 2307. Codrus and Reemul were exposed. Your Gillian/tway and Nick were brought from stasis by E-Tech. I knew at once that Nick had to be the Czar—one of the Ash Ock's most formidable pre-Apocalyptic nemeses. And after your Gillian/tway killed Reemul, I knew who you were. No mere human could have defeated the liege-killer in open combat.
"Excitement flowed through me, and I blazed with new purpose. I had mastered enough Os/Ka/Loq secrets to know that a single tway of an Ash Ock could be restored to full glory, that arrhythmia of the whelm could be reversed. It was too late for me, of course—the melding together of tway and monarch had already occurred, and that process remains irreversible. But the reports I was able to gather regarding your Gillian/tway indicated a man disturbed by vast inner turmoil. I was certain that you had not yet melded.
"By accessing Freebird, I discovered that Rome Franco had arranged for your Gillian/tway and the Czar to be put back into stasis for fifty-six years. Perfect, I thought, for I knew that decades would be required to implement my plans.
"And for decades, I remained hard at work here within this cell, making my preparations. Then, about thirty years ago, I returned to upstate New York, to the Ontario Cloister. I entered that Church facility, claiming to have come there as a stowaway aboard a colonial shuttle.
"I made myself useful to the Church elders and they permitted me to remain at the cloister. I became their chief caretaker. I fixed what was broken, straightened what was twisted.
"But all the while, I was bringing my plans to fruition. I befriended a young priest at the cloister. His name was Lester Mon Dama. One day, I persuaded Lester to take a long walk with me on the beach. Far from any possible probing eyes, I drugged the priest and took him to my shuttle. Within the deepest recesses of his mind, I implanted a massive array of mnemonic cursors. I made Lester Mon Dama into my retroslave. He was aware, of course, of his indentured status, but he was unable to do anything about it.
"Under my orders, Lester arranged to have three Church of the Trust obstetricians visit the cloister. All three of these doctors were brought to me. More mnemonic cursors were implanted.
"From my own biological/T-psionic infrastructure, I created a genetic matrix that could be used to overcome the limitations of a normal human neuromuscular system. Over a five-year period, through the efforts of Lester Mon Dama, hundreds of pregnant women were given special injections of this matrix by these obstetricians. Hundreds of female babies were born, all of whom were close to the physical age of Gillian. Following the last of the births, I arranged for Lester to dispose of the three doctors. The obstetricians had served their purpose.
"From one of these hundreds of babies, I was certain that a suitable replacement for Catharine eventually could be found. But I must admit that for a time I was fairly discouraged. None of these young women, whom I monitored from afar—through Lester and through my own access to the E-Tech archival network, via Freebird—seemed quite right as a replacement for your lost Catharine/tway.” Timmy cast a wan smile. “But eventually, fate called Susan to my attention. And she turned out to possess the requisite qualities for becoming, your new half.
"And so, I arranged to have both of you brought to this cell, where restoration could take place. The purities have been maintained here. This cell is a living organism of sorts, ebbing and flowing with energies of the T-psionic force, which even I, at a fundamental level, do not understand. But within this probe, arrhythmia of the whelm could be reversed."
Empedocles alternately nodde
d his heads. “I am still confused about one thing, Timmy. Why? Why did you bring me back?"
"I told you before. You are Ash Ock. You are my brethren."
"Then your actions were guided purely by emotions?"
"My feelings towards you ... were all that remained important following the melding of my tway and monarch. It gave my pleasure knowing that I could make you whole again. It gave purpose to my life."
"And that was the only reason?"
Timmy did not answer. Instead, he changed the subject. “I mentioned earlier why Codrus was left behind in the Colonies after the Star-Edge fleet departed to rendezvous with the Biodyysey. But aside from the reasons I've already stated, Codrus was assigned an additional task. He was to keep watch for Aristotle's secret program, whose existence Aristotle had first revealed to Meridian.
"Sappho did not know for certain whether Freebird actually existed. Aristotle could have been bluffing. But even though no E-Tech archivists had located the secret program in over two centuries, Sappho was no longer willing to take any chances. Following Codrus's demise, she sent her plenary tway back to the Colonies with the sunsetter. By setting her data destroyer loose in the archives—by having the sunsetter seek out and destroy all old programs—Sappho hoped to eliminate Freebird ... if it indeed existed.
"But Freebird became aware of the sunsetter first. And last month, when the Czar began to send his own exploratory programs into the archives, I perceived an opportunity. I arranged for Freebird to show itself at a precise moment, thus tricking the sunsetter into returning to its prime check-in location. I was able to trace the sunsetter back to its source. Thus, I was able to learn Sappho's current identity."
Timmy reached under his robes and withdrew a data brick. “This contains information on Sappho's plenary tway. She now assumes the name of Colette Ghandi. The data in this brick will help you find her."
Empedocles used the hand of his Gillian/tway to take the brick. With his Susan/tway, he stepped behind Timmy. For a few moments, he silently studied his former proctor, front and rear. Then: “You must be aware of another factor that still greatly perplexes me."
"Of course. We both know that you're going to kill me. And you cannot understand why I am not worried."
Empedocles nodded.
An odd smile blossomed on Timmy's face. “Before events proceed to their preordained conclusion, there is one other detail I should mention. It concerns the E-Tech raid on Thi Maloca, the attack which killed your tway Catharine. You know, of course, that this raid occurred only a few weeks after Aristotle's assassination?"
Empedocles acknowledged a tinge of anger. He stared coldly.
"The correlations are obvious,” said Timmy. “Empedocles was the student of Aristotle. Sappho could not know for certain whether my monarch had involved you in his traitorous activities, but she could not take any chances. Your training was almost complete. Soon, you would be leaving Thi Maloca to become a full member of the Royal Caste.
"But by this time, you were considered expendable—no longer necessary to ensure that the Apocalypse occurred. Sappho had no choice, really. She secretly revealed to E-Tech the location of the Ash Ock labs in Thi Maloca. She arranged for your death as well as mine."
Empedocles felt his anger beginning to swell.
Timmy seemed completely unconcerned. “So now you know everything. You even possess the appropriate data to realize what it is the Sappho and the Os/Ka/Loq truly fear, although I can see that you have not yet correlated such information into conscious knowledge. Nevertheless, with a little thought, it will come to you.
"At any rate, I now give you my blessings. Empedocles, last-born of the Royal Caste—you are now free to do what it is that you must do."
With his Gillian/tway, Empedocles came forward another step. “Revenge?” he whispered. “Is that what this has all been about? You want me to kill Sappho?"
Timmy sighed. “You still don't understand, do you? All right, Ash Ock. I will spell it out for you:
"My monarch, Aristotle, was flawed. That is why Sappho precluded him from her plans and that is why he ultimately turned against her. I wish to make right the ancient wrong of Aristotle's betrayal.
"I have returned you to full monarchy. I have given you the tools to reestablish yourself among the Paratwa. I have healed you. And now I wish to heal the broken Sphere of the Royal Caste.
"I wish for you to be my apology to Sappho."
For a moment, Empedocles was too astonished to respond. He found himself shaking both heads. “You are insane."
Timmy shrugged. “Quite possibly. But insane or not, my desires remain clear. I could never have approached Sappho myself. She would never again trust a remnant of Aristotle. But for you ... the wounds are not so deep. Sappho may accept you, Empedocles. Especially when she realizes that, with all your newfound knowledge, you returned to her instead of to the humans. And you returned with a gift—the head of Aristotle ... figuratively speaking, I would hope.” Another smile fattened Timmy's cheeks.
"You are now a complete Ash Ock Paratwa. Go to Sappho. Allow yourself to share in her coming victory. Assume your rightful place in the new order."
Don't do it! cried Susan, no longer concerned about maintaining even the slightest emotional restraint. She knew what was going to happen. She could feel Empedocles easing up into that moment of ultimate repose—the assassin's crest—when all tension would depart his bodies in a crescendo of violence.
And even though the extent of Timmy's monstrous manipulations and deeds were now clear to her, she could not help but feel sorry for him. Timmy brought me back from a life of shallowness. He helped restore my essence.
Gillian lashed out at her with rasping anger. Don't be a softhearted fool! Timmy brought you back for one reason only—to forever trap your consciousness in here as an amalgam. You were needed only to restore the monarchy!
I still can't help how I feel.
Gillian projected bitterness. And now we're going to be trapped in here forever! Timmy's the only one who can neutralize my mnemonic cursors. He's the only one who can return me to my body!
But you said there might be a way—
It's no use, Gillian yelled. Once he kills Timmy, he knows that we'll never be able to break the interlace! There's no way out!
Susan began to understand. She forced herself to respond with complete composure. You want our monarch to feel the fury of our defeat. You want Empedocles to believe that we've given up hope.
You are a perceptive person, Gillian replied calmly. Therefore, feel free to contribute to this common goal.
Susan screamed.
Empedocles lunged with his Gillian/tway—right arm unfurled, hand fisted, forefinger extended, stiff as a blade. The finger penetrated the fragile translucent membrane protecting Timmy's empty eye socket, plunged straight through into the brain.
Timmy's head jerked back. Empedocles withdrew the finger, used the Susan/tway's arms to snap the presented neck. The massive body spasmed. Empedocles stepped away, watched Timmy slam onto the floor. He stared down at the body, smiling twin smiles.
"Thank you, my proctor. You have been most helpful. And I do believe I will follow your advice."
O}o{O
Projected on the FTL, the Biodyysey appeared neither massive nor threatening. Ovoid in shape, over two thousand one hundred and fifty miles from end to end, the fattest portion of its belly nine hundred miles across, it looked more like an oversized gray egg than an invasion vessel of an alien species. But the Lion knew that the seed ship of the Os/Ka/Loq bore death within its living shell. He acknowledged a renewed feeling of helplessness as he watched two glittering swarms of red specks approaching the invader from opposite tangents.
"Those are the fifteen advance targeters,” narrated Van Ostrand. “They've been split into two groups for the actual assault."
"How long yet?” asked Inez, her voice still smoothly controlled but her delicate face creased with a frown that even the bacterial skin toners could
not mask.
"In one minute they'll reach primary attack coordinates,” replied Van Ostrand.
Edward Huromonus raised his eyebrows. “Those targeters look bigger than I would have expected them to be, in relation to the Biodyysey."
"You're looking at enhancements,” said the disembodied voice of the Guardian commander. “At this scale of magnification, our targeters would be completely invisible. For video transmission, the images have been colorized and enlarged."
The Lion asked, “Now that they're within such close range, have the targeters been able to make any data penetrations?"
Van Ostrand sounded disappointed. “No, the Biodyysey's electromagnetic field continues to foul even our most esoteric scanning gear."
"A pity,” murmured Inez.
Losef, in a voice more icy than usual, announced: “Meridian is demanding to be brought before the Council."
"Why am I not surprised?” wondered Huromonus. “After all, his other tway is out there on that vessel. As the freelancers might put it, Meridian is now staring down the barrel of our gun."
The Lion repressed an urge to laugh. The expression could not have been more inappropriate.
"Meridian can wait,” suggested Inez.
"Thirty seconds,” said Van Ostrand. “Prime attack coordinates—"
A flash of amber light filled the FTL screens, momentarily discoloring the entire vista. Each of the fifteen targeters briefly expanded to at least three times its imaged size before dissolving back into the darkness. Seconds later, only a hazy pink afterglow remained to mark the location of each Guardian ship.
"They're gone,” whispered Inez.
Only the massive Biodyysey remained, dominating the center of the screens. To the Lion, the display of firepower seemed to impart the alien vessel with a majesty even further beyond their understanding.
We knew it would happen this way, he quickly told himself, refusing to allow the Os/Ka/Loq's triumph to overwhelm his determination.
The Paratwa (#3 in the Parawta Saga) Page 33
