by John Ringo
“Why the hell would I not be? You are all ashamed of me!”
“You fraud! It’s all about you! When it gets right down to it, it’s all about—”
“It is not either!”
“The fuck it’s not!”
“Arrogant carnivore!”
“Stuck-up bitch!”
“Deluded theist!”
“Tin God!”
He didn’t even bother to sort out the name calling. Yep, they’d just about yelled themselves out. He gave the bucket the practiced heave of an experienced farmer, hitting them both squarely and pretty much equally. There was a loud splash. There was a silence. Both of them turned equally shocked and betrayed expressions on him. He reckoned neither one would be real fond of him for awhile. He valiantly and successfully resisted the urge to laugh, or even smirk. The situation itself wasn’t funny, despite their comical appearance.
“You sounded about done,” he said. “You’d started repeating yourselves.”
Michelle looked more shell-shocked than Cally. Probably the first time she’d lost her temper in, well, decades. Do her a world of good, in the long run. True to their natures, Cally recovered the ability to act first, retrieving a shotgun from the floor and pointing it across the room at the device. Yeah, the friendlies were away from it and the room around her was about right. She’d absorbed his early lessons about friendly fire right down to the bone.
He was kinda proud of Michelle, as she wasn’t but a couple of seconds behind. He shifted, and felt the other O’Neals follow his lead. Michelle was so focused on Cally, she didn’t seem to notice.
“I can stop you,” she said to her sister.
“You sure?” Cally said.
“Completely,” the Michon Mentat said, her control returned to her.
“Just one problem,” Papa O’Neal said.
“Which is?” Michelle asked.
“I absolutely forbid it,” he replied. “And I am your clan leader.”
Michelle opened and closed her mouth for a moment, stunned.
“Hard time getting around that one, huh?” Papa said, walking over to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “All that training by the Indowy. Lineeoooie or whatever it’s called. Now, Cally might just tell me to get stuffed. She’s done it before. But you?”
“Clan Leader,” Michelle said, formally. “I respectfully request that you reconsider your decision to destroy this device.”
“Didn’t say I was going to destroy it,” Papa O’Neal said.
“Huh?” Cally shouted. “Well screw that!” she continued, pointing her rifle.
“Don’t,” Papa O’Neal said. “Seriously, Granddaughter. Don’t. I’m handling this.”
“This thing can not exist,” Cally said.
“They said the same thing about nuclear weapons,” Papa O’Neal said with a sigh. “But they do. And biological agents and all the rest. As I said, let me handle this, Granddaughter.”
“What in the hell could you want it for, Papa?” Cally asked, exasperated.
“I don’t,” Papa replied. “She does,” he added, pointing at Michelle. “And since I haven’t given her a Christmas present in years, I figure I owe her. What I’m going to ask is why? You’re an O’Neal. I know the Indowy raised you but I also know you’re my genes. You were raised by my daughter-in-law who I loved like my own daughter, by my son, before the Indowy got their linatoooie or whatever thinking in your head. You’re not going to be mind-raping people. You can’t. You’re an O’Neal. Absolute power be damned, some people just don’t care about the power. So what do you want it for?”
“A question my sister never asked,” Michelle said, nodding.
“She’s… Cally,” Papa said. “She tends to shoot first and try not to ask at all. But it’s a question you will answer. To your Clan Leader. In small words.”
Michelle seemed to consider that for a moment, then nodded.
“This device is a remnant of technology,” she began.
“Stuff I don’t already know,” Papa said.
“A remnant of the Aldenata before they… became more,” Michelle said.
“That I will admit I didn’t know,” Papa said.
“It was held by the Tchpth,” Michelle continued, apparently ignoring him. “They did not study it, for they already understood its function.”
“The Crabs can make another one?” Cally snapped. “Oh, holy shit.”
“So my point is made,” Papa O’Neal said. “The nuclear wall is breached. At that pont, you gotta figure out how you live with it. Continue.”
“The device uses Sohon techniques,” Michelle said. “But it does not require a Sohon master to operate.”
“Ain’t that interesting,” Cally scoffed. “Afraid we regular people might learn to do what you do?”
“Yes,” Michelle replied quietly. “And no. Yes, in that advanced Sohon techniques are… exceedingly dangerous. You hate and revile this machine, Cally. But it is simply an aspect of Sohon. We masters, we mentats, the Wise you so despise, have deliberately avoided exploring this area, this aspect, of Sohon. It is a violent approach to Sohon that we abhor. Mind-raping as you put it. But it is an aspect of Sohon.”
“So what you’re saying is that if you wanted to, you all could be mind-rapers?” Cally said. “Maybe I’m aiming at the wrong thing.”
“Perhaps you are,” Michelle admitted. “But to learn such advanced skills requires decades of study and discipline. Perhaps that is insufficient to prevent its misuse, Erick showed that well enough. But would you have anyone have access to such power? Consider his lieutenant. Consider the many people you have… cleansed over the years.”
“Point,” Cally said, frowning.
“That is the yes,” Michelle said. “It is clear that humanity, as a whole, is not ready for the power to simply press a button and achieve this sort of power.”
“So we destroy it,” Cally said. “The Crabs had it for how long? And they never made another one. So it’s unlikely they’re going to any time soon.”
“But there is the no,” Michelle said. “This device generates Sohon fields. Yes, it was misused. But consider the possibilities, sister. Other devices that can be used for peaceful applications of Sohon. For building that does not require such intense energy on the part of a person. New ship drives, new methods of power generation. The peaceful applications are endless.”
“Ain’t possible,” Papa O’Neal said. “Nuclear power, nuclear weapons. Chemical industry, gas factories. Medical technology, biological weapons. You never just get peaceful applications, Granddaughter.”
“It is possible if the people producing them are devoted to peace,” Michelle said, spreading her hands. “I will make a compromise with you, Grandfather. The device will be placed in the care of the O’Neal Bane Sidhe. It will be accessible only by myself and other Sohons I designate, secured in such a way as only we may access it and you may ensure yourself of that. I give you my personal word that the research will be devoted to finding the methods whereby it produces Sohon fields without the input of a Sohon master. One can learn much of nuclear power from observing a nuclear weapon, to use your own metaphor. Also electronics, manufacturing and materials technology. This is what I wish to research.”
“Cally?” Papa O’Neal asked.
“Fuck,” the woman replied, shrugging. “I dunno. I mean, if the tech is already out there… Why not just get it from the Crabs?”
“The Tchpth and mentats approach the same Way from different Paths,” Michelle replied. “Sometimes we have trouble communicating. This would be… a crossroads, yes?”
“That was her way of saying ‘whatever,’ ” Papa O’Neal said. “Your compromise is accepted. We need to get it to Prime Base.”
“And we need to get the flock out of here,” Mosovich pointed out. “There’s going to be more response than just us. And I really don’t want to be here when it gets here.”
“We can carry the team out on the shuttles,” Kelly said. “We�
�re not going to be going back to DAG anyway.”
“Details, details,” Papa O’Neal said. “Let’s load up.”
“What about the security goons?” Cally asked.
Papa O’Neal looked at the still frozen group and snorted.
“Let them try explaining what happened,” he said. “Gonna love reading the debrief. Granddaughter…”
“Yes?” Cally and Michelle answered simultaneously.
“I don’t give a crap about the thing with the Indowy,” Papa said, clarifying with a glance at Michelle. “It’s about time you come home. Other Granddaughter?”
“Yes,” Cally said.
“Tell my grandson-in-law that he can come down and explain in person, and to me, what the fuck is going on or he’s on my personal ‘better off dead’ list. And there ain’t many people still living on that one.”
Epilogue
“This is incredibly stupid,” Stewart said as he stepped into the car. “This endangers not just me but our children.”
“Whom you have never met,” Cally said coldly.
“For that precise reason!” Stewart snapped. “Do you think I don’t care?”
“Given that e-mail,” Cally said. “Yes.”
“I sent that to prevent the danger,” Stewart said, sighing. “I’ve become too much of a player in the Tongs to keep up this dual life. Other members watch me even if Grandfather does not require it. The Tongs are not much friendlier, internally, than the Darhel. If we are found out, it would mean not only our own lives but those of the children.” He paused and looked at her stony face. Cally was apparently concentrated on driving. “It would mean yours. And I cannot lose you, Cally.”
“So you dumped me to protect me?” Cally scoffed. “Oh, that’s rich. I damned near got killed because of it! I was preparing for a mission, you moron! You think getting a Dear Cally just before a mission didn’t put me in danger? If it hadn’t been for George I’d have never made it! My head was, to say the least, not on my job!”
“I didn’t know,” Stewart said. “And I couldn’t think of a better way to do it. In person would double the risk.”
“Well, you can forget about ‘risk’ for the time being,” Cally said coldly. “You’re covered. My Lord are you covered.”
“How?” Stewart asked.
“You’re sure it’s him?” Chang Pou said.
“He just passed through a coded door,” the technician replied, waving at his screen. “It took a gene scan. It’s him.”
“Grandfather was sure he was meeting someone,” Chang Pou replied, looking at the video footage. The Tong were well connected in the security system of Luna. Anything that security saw, the Tong could look at as well.
“Not so far,” the technician said. “He’s stayed to public corridors. He could have made a dead drop at some point, sent a signal. But you know how hard those are to detect.”
“There is nothing here though,” Chang Pou replied. “Curious.”
“You’ve got somebody doubling for me on the Moon?” Stewart asked.
“Not… exactly,” Cally said. “My sister, who is truly scary, is projecting a sort of hologram. Except that you can touch it. It is you to any simple examination down to a surface gene scan. It’s just going around, doing things that you normally do. It’s even going to do some business for you. Meanwhile, if you think meeting with me is tough, you’re going to have to explain to Papa O’Neal why you haven’t been by to see your kids. Not to mention trying to Dear Cally me. Not to mention marrying me in the first place without his approval. As if I needed it!”
“Since I’m finally going to see my kids, I can live,” Stewart said, grinning. “And if we can patch things up—”
“Oh, you’re not forgiven,” Cally said. “You’re going to owe me, big time. Get ready for lots of backrubs.”
“I can deal,” Stewart said, then paused. “Who is George?”
“Oh, don’t even start… !”
“Sittin’ on a dock of the bay…” Mueller muttered, looking out over the seascape.
“I thought you were under orders to not sing?” Mosovich asked.
“Ain’t in the army no more, Snake,” Mueller replied. “Haaarmy training, sir!”
“Okay, try to sing and I’m going to off you,” Mosovich replied.
“So what the fuck do we do now?” Mueller asked.
“Oh, there’s plenty to do,” Papa O’Neal replied, grinning. “There’s farming and fishing and—”
“You’d better have more use for us than running a plow,” Mueller growled. “I did not throw away a… fifty-something year career to become a farmer.”
“Killing bad guys,” Papa O’Neal continued. “Fighting the Darhel…”
“That’s more like it,” Mosovich said, taking a pull of his beer. “Where do we start?”
“Going to have to find a place to hide you, frankly,” Papa O’Neal replied. “With most of DAG suddenly descending on us, we’ve got an overpopulation problem. I’m thinking we might need to start up another island. So there may be some farming and fishing involved. Not to mention hunting Posleen. But we’ll handle it.”
“Just another day in paradise,” Mueller said grumpily.
“Every day’s a holiday,” Mosovich replied. “And every meal’s a banquet.”
“Mike,” Shari said from the kitchen. “Cally just pulled up.”
“Oh, there will be a banquet,” Papa O’Neal said, standing up. “We’re going to serve the head of my grandson-in-law.”
“I thought you were covering for my husband on the moon?” Cally said.
Michelle was sitting in the flower bed, holding one of Sinda’s hands over a pansy.
“I can do that and this at the same time,” Michelle replied. “I’m pretty good for a ‘glorified engineer.’ ”
“Any news on the investigation into the attack?” Cally asked, ignoring the jibe.
“The Wise have stepped in,” Michelle replied. “I was exonerated for my actions, including my actions against the guards and your forces, due to the nature of Erick’s… unwellness. There is a portion of the Wise who disagree with my actions, who feel that it should have been handled by a broader consensus. The majority, however, simply want the situation to go away. The Tchpth, Darhel and Indowy senior leaders have, in rare combination, convinced the local human governments to ignore the occurrence.”
“We’re covered, in other words,” Cally said.
“Well, the humans would still like to find out what happened to DAG,” Michelle admitted, then turned back to Sinda. “Can you feel it? The tug of life?”
“It’s tickly,” Sinda said. “Like a flower in my head.”
“All things are linked,” Michelle said quietly. “This is not just a saying; it is a fact of reality. The universe is not so large as people believe. Indeed, large is an illusion. Everything is everywhere. At once. Everything is everything. At once. This is the first lesson of Sohon. Your daughter has the Gift, Cally.”
“You mean Sohon?” Cally said. “Really?”
“Our father learned some of the most rudimentary abilities at the age of nearly thirty,” Michelle said. “Oh, not much more than what I am showing Sinda. But it was an impressive feat. The Gift is hard to define. It is not carried genetically or even through proteinomics. Experience shapes it. But it must be present. Sinda could be a great adept in her time. She has the Gift most strongly.”
“Oh, great,” Cally said. “I’ve got a wizard for a daughter.”
“She will never develop it here,” Michelle said, looking up into the sun.
Cally shifted slightly so her sister was in shade.
“You want to take her with you,” she said. It was not a question.
“One of our clan children, Mark, is… less gifted,” Michelle replied. “And quite a handful. He seems to have gotten the full measure of the O’Neal chaos gene.”
“Gets in fights?” Cally asked.
“He’s learned not to engage in actual violence,�
�� Michelle said distastefully.
“Yeah, well, we’ll see what we can do to correct that,” Cally said, squatting down. “Sinda, Aunt Michelle is asking me to let you go live with her. She wants to send one of her boys to live with us. We could still see each other from time to time.”
“I don’t wanna leave Mama,” Sinda said, suddenly frightened.
“Perhaps not yet,” Michelle said, nodding. “I can understand the fear. I cried very much when I had to leave my parents. It was not a good time. But… can we talk about it?”
“Yes,” Sinda said, lisping slightly. “Can we play with the flowers some more?”
“Of course,” Michelle said. “Take my hand…”
Katund, Clan Leader of the Epetar clan-corp, was still in the midst of one set of breathing exercises when he heard his AID chime, “Urgent report for you, your Tir,” it said.
“What is it now?” he was at his limit and controlling his temper with difficulty.
“The council respectfully notifies you that the Epetar Group has been found in default on the ship maintenance contract for the Eastern Fleet Detachment. Accordingly, this message is to notify you of contract termination,” it said in its melodious but ultimately uncaring voice.
After a long moment’s pause, the AID prompted, “Is there any reply, your Tir?”
Another long moment passed, “Tir?”
And another, “Please respond, your Tir.”
It was still repeating its polite query when two of his Indowy body servants came in to see to his needs. The former Tir sat, still, in his chair, a dreamy but somehow horrible grin lighting his face as his glazed eyes stared off into the distance.
“Oh, my. Inform Tir Hmili immediately.” The addition of the honorific was automatic.
“Should I send you some help?” the other Indowy asked.
“Please. He is not small. I’ll need at least four others to get him through the bounce tube. I suppose the roof is the best place to store him until he is ready for disposal. Wait just a moment,” the first Indowy stepped outside with his companion and shut the door, effectively shutting out the catatonic Darhel’s AID.
