by Eric Brown
Vaughan said what he was thinking. “Rao said that you could help me. He also said that whatever you wanted would get me off the Station.”
“Ah, yes, my people apprised me of yesterday’s contretemps. You’re not the first telepath to be targeted. You might be pleased to know that I have the best people working on the case.”
Vaughan nodded. “How can I help you, Mr Chandrasakar?”
“Please, call me Rabindranath.”
Despite his innate distrust of both those in power and those with wealth - which often amounted to the same thing - Vaughan found it hard to dislike the tycoon. He wished, though, that he could have read what the man was thinking.
Chandrasakar sat back on the sofa with a little body-hop that left his feet dangling, comically, a few inches from the plush carpet. Vaughan wondered if it were a deliberate ploy to convince him of the tycoon’s humanity.
“Mr Vaughan, I would like to employ you for approximately two weeks. In recompense, I will have your daughter treated here on the Station by the world’s finest physicians; I will foot the bill for her treatment and aftercare and for your wife and your adopted daughter’s accommodation throughout the period. I will also pay you a stipend of some one hundred thousand dollars, US, and compensate the Kapinsky agency for the duration you will be contracted to me.”
Vaughan’s immediate reaction was to ask why Chandrasakar had singled him out, from all the other telepaths working on Earth. Instead he said, “What do you want me to do?” He could not bring himself to call the tycoon by his first name.
“You will accompany me to a newly discovered planet in the Delta Cephei system, at the very edge of the human Expansion.”
Vaughan inclined his head, considering the notion of being away from Sukara and the girls for two weeks - even in return for what the tycoon was offering. “If you don’t mind me saying, that doesn’t answer my question.”
Chandrasakar nodded. “Let me begin by telling you something about what will take us to Delta Cephei VII, Mr Vaughan.”
Will take us... Vaughan thought. Already, in the mind of the billionaire, his acceptance of the job was a fait accompli.
Chandrasakar stood and moved to the delta screen, staring out across the spaceport. He looked, Vaughan thought, an almost comical figure, with his short legs, his protuberant gut, and mass of artificially darkened hair. If he’d schooled with Rao, then he was in his sixties or early seventies, though his wealth had gone a long way to disguise the fact.
“A little over a year ago,” Chandrasakar said, turning to Vaughan, “one of my exploration ships was out beyond the limit of the Expansion, a thousand light years from Earth. You might know that one of my many business enterprises is that of stellar exploration. The discovery of new, Earth-like worlds, or of worlds whose resources might be utilised, is an essential component in the continued success of my business. To that end, my exploration ships are forever pushing out the limits of human expansion.”
Vaughan sipped his beer and sat through the publicity spiel without comment.
The tycoon went on, “My ship,The Pride of Mussoree, was in the region of the yellow-white supergiant Delta Cephei when all contact with ship and crew was lost. Immediately I initiated a rescue mission, re-routing a ship to investigate. Three months ago, I heard from the captain of the rescue mission. They had discovered the Mussoree. It had come down near the equator of the seventh planet in the Delta Cephei system, a planet wholly covered by a strange fungal growth. The ship had not crash-landed, and appeared intact, its drives in perfect condition and its voidspace telemetry in full working order.”
“And the crew?” Vaughan asked.
“Two of its crew of four were missing. One was found dead in the ship. The fourth member, the engineer, was in cryo-suspension-”
“What happened?” Vaughan asked.
Chandrasakar pursed his lips. “That we do not know, Mr Vaughan. The engineer made it into the cold sleep unit, with the help of the AI drones, but she died of her injuries shortly after.”
Chandrasakar stopped there, and the silence stretched. He was watching Vaughan.
“And how,” Vaughan asked, hoping that his hunch was not right, “might I be of any help?”
Chandrasakar nodded. “Mr Vaughan, I know something of your past.”
Vaughan felt his pulse quicken. “And?”
“And... I know that you were seconded into the Toronto Police force at the age of twenty, specifically to the Homicide division. I know you underwent an operation to bring about your telepathic ability - not just any telepathic ability, but the ability to read the dwindling minds of the dead. You were made a necropath, Mr Vaughan.”
He kept calm, took a long swallow of beer and nodded at the tycoon. No one on the Station, other than Sukara, should have known about his past in Canada.
“How did you find out?”
“I have my... I suppose you could call them spies, informants. That is of little concern, though. What matters-”
Vaughan interrupted. “I no longer read dead minds. I had the hardware removed years ago.”
“I have the surgeons, and the technical experts, who can reinstall it.”
“Why do you think I had it taken out in the first place?”
“No doubt you had your reasons-”
“Do you have any conception of the pain of reading dead minds, Mr Chandrasakar?”
“Candidly, I cannot begin to imagine the experience, but-”
“It’s something I never wish to experience again.”
Chandrasakar smiled. “Not even,” he said, “for the sake of your daughter?”
You bastard, Vaughan thought.
The tycoon continued, “My surgeons will reinstall the hardware, an advanced version, with the latest programs. It is my hope that you will accompany me to Delta Cephei VII, where you will read the mind of the dead engineer and learn exactly what happened to the crew of the Mussoree. Needless to say, this information will be vital if we hope to utilise the full resources of the planet.”
“You said the engineer died in cold sleep. How long ago was this? Months? In that case her thoughts might be...”
He stopped. Chandrasakar was shaking his head. “The cryo-suspension preserved her at the second of brain death, Mr Vaughan. When the suspension is reversed, you will have access to her dwindling mentation. You will be able to read what happened.”
Vaughan hung his head. He knew, despite himself, that he would accede to the billionaire’s wishes. His protests, he told himself, would be futile, a charade to persuade himself that he had at least put up some resistance.
“When you read a dead mind,” he said slowly, “it’s as if you’re dying yourself. You are one with the dead subject, falling towards oblivion. All that the subject has ever known, ever experienced, is being extinguished, and they know it... and you share this, and the final terrible realisation that this life is all, that there’s nothing beyond death but eternal oblivion. It... that awareness... it lives with you and makes the hours after reading the dead almost intolerable.”
Chandrasakar allowed a few seconds to elapse, and when he spoke his tone was conciliatory. “I can only imagine the hell you so graphically describe, Jeff. But let me reassure you, I will have medics on hand to ease the aftermath of the reading, to prescribe sedatives...”
Vaughan looked up from his beer, ready to give in.
Chandrasakar said, “And immediately you have read the engineer, I will have the program removed. It will be a one-off reading, for which I will underwrite the complete care of your daughter.”
Vaughan smiled, without the slightest trace of good humour. “I need to talk this over with my wife.”
Chandrasakar inclined his head. “Perfectly understandable, Mr Vaughan.”
“When does the ship leave?”
“Tomorrow. The journey will take approximately forty-eight hours. A return trip is scheduled for ten days after that.”
From the breast pocket of his suit, the tycoon w
ithdrew a red velveteen case and passed it across to Vaughan.
He opened it. Two silver data-pins sat in a nest of rucked silk. He looked up, inquiringly.
The tycoon said, “These will enable you and your wife to communicate with each other through the void. The technology is barely a month old.”
Vaughan had heard rumour that communications through voidspace would soon be achievable. He whistled, despite himself.
Chandrasakar smiled. “Yes, it is phenomenally expensive, but in this case it would be churlish to deny you the facility.”
Vaughan finished his beer. “If I do agree to your offer, I want the assurance of protection for my family while I’m away. I don’t know what the bastard who’s targeting us wants, but I’d feel better if Sukara and the girls were adequately guarded.”
“That will be arranged. And if there’s anything else you might require...” Chandrasakar stepped forwards and held out his hand. Vaughan hesitated, then took it. “I anticipate hearing from you by the end of the day, Mr Vaughan. You will find a flier outside to return you to your hotel.”
Vaughan gripped the man’s hand and looked into his brown eyes, resenting the smile on the Indian’s face, which indicated the tycoon knew he had got what he wanted.
The same crimson-uniformed woman escorted him through the ship to the waiting flier, and he sat back in the padded seat and considered the meeting as the flier powered up. Chandrasakar stood for everything that Vaughan mistrusted about the modern world, and he was convinced the tycoon had told him only a partial story about the mission... but what he was offering was too great a reward to refuse.
The flier lifted, banked and carried him towards the Ashok Hilton.
* * * *
FIVE
GUT FEAR
Every month Sukara took the girls to the Extraterrestrial Zoo on Level Two, watching them as they moved in wonder from one alien habitat to the next. Usually she was as excited as the girls, but today she was unable to summon the enthusiasm as the girls shrieked and pointed at one bizarre creature after another. She thought of Jeff, somewhere above her at the spaceport, meeting with the big-shot billionaire voidline owner. No doubt the tycoon could help them out financially, but what might the man want from Jeff that he was willing to pay to save the life of a girl he had never met?
The reappearance of Dr Rao after so many years had brought back a slew of painful memories. Six years ago Sukara had arrived on the Station looking for her sister, Tiger, who had left Thailand hoping to make a new life for herself. Instead she had fallen into the clutches of Dr Rao, who had amputated her left leg and sent her onto the streets to beg for a living. Rao lived with 200 kids on a crashed starship welded into position between Levels Twelve and Thirteen, and he liked to think of himself as an altruist, the benefactor without whom the streets kids would be subject to the jungle laws of the streets. Sukara still didn’t know what to think of Dr Rao, even though Jeff bore the man a grudging respect. What Rao did might seem evil to some, but as Jeff had more than once pointed out Rao was the last chance many of these kids had, even if he profited by their servitude.
Her memories of six years ago were painful. Tiger had died of a drug overdose a week before Sukara reached the Station - but through Dr Rao she had met Jeff, and the meeting had changed her life.
If only Tiger could have lived to meet Li and Pham, she thought; if only they could have lived together on the Station like one big, happy family.
She wondered how Jeff was getting on with Chandrasakar. She trusted her husband’s instincts. Being a telepath made him - even when he wasn’t able to read someone - an astute judge of character; he was able to pick up on subliminal traits in someone’s gestures and mannerisms, almost unconscious signals, which told him whether a person was to be trusted or not. She was sure that the billionaire wouldn’t be able to put anything over on him.
She watched Li, jumping up and down in front of the glass enclosure which housed a Lyran octopoid, a hairy creature which looked like a cross between a spider and a squid.
Absently, Sukara read the caption on the enclosure while the girl listened, rapt.
As they walked to the next habitat, Pham said seriously, “When I’m older I want to travel to other planets and see all kinds of animals, just like Dad has.”
Sukara smiled. “I’m sure you will, Pham.”
“I’d like to be a xenologist.”
Sukara stared at her daughter. There were times when Pham came out with things that amazed her. “A...xenologist?”
“Someone who studies alien races,” Pham said matter-of-factly.
Sukara smiled. “That’d be great, wouldn’t it?”
They came to the habitat of a Hathinar, from Acrab XII - a cetacean sentient basking in a cubic kilometre of almost-boiling water. As the girls pressed their noses against the glass tank, the creature came close and regarded them with a swivelling eyeball the size of a flier.
What Pham had just said reminded her of something Dr Rao had mentioned that morning: that what Chandrasakar wanted Jeff to do would take him away from Earth for a while.
Jeff would be away while Li was being treated, and the thought filled Sukara with despair. It was bad enough Li being ill while she and Jeff were together, but she wondered how she would cope without Jeff’s support.
Her handset chimed and she accessed the call instantly. She beamed at Jeff, smiling up at her from the screen set into the back of her hand. “How did it go?”
“Fine, fine. I’ll tell you all about it when we meet. You still at the zoo?”
She nodded. “We could meet you at the café in Himachal Park.”
He blew her a kiss. “See you there in fifteen minutes.” He cut the connection.
“Hey, girls. That was Daddy. We’re meeting him in the café.”
“Vitamilk!” Li cried.
“Can I have an ice-cake?” Pham asked.
“If we leave here now and no complaints, okay? I need to see Daddy about something important.”
As they boarded a carriage at the upchute station, Pham said, “About Li’s medicine, Mum?”
Sukara smiled. “Daddy’s going to do some work to earn the money to pay for Li’s treatment,” she said. Well, she hoped so... and instantly she felt guilty at the presumption.
They stepped from the clanking carriage and moved with the crowd across the road towards the gates of the park. This was Sukara’s favourite place on all the Station, an area of green calm amid the bustle that was the top level. The amazing thing was that the spacious lawns and peaceful coppices were never crowded, and the café overlooking the ocean was an oasis of sanity. Also, the coffee was the best in the area.
She found a table by the perimeter rail, ordered a coffee for herself and Vitamilk for the girls, and stared out across the ocean as Pham and Li played Spot the Starship Line: the spaceport was a kilometre to the north of here, and voidships were materialising over the sea every few minutes. Jeff had spent hours teaching the girls to recognise the various colours of the many starship companies that berthed at the station.
Five minutes later she made out a tall, striding figure cross the grass towards them, jacket slung casually over his shoulder.
He ordered a beer, kissed Sukara and the girls, and sat down.
Sukara stared, wide-eyed. “Well?”
He watched the girls as they moved off towards the railed enclosure, out of earshot. His expression gave nothing away. “Well, providing you agree, I’m the temporary employee of the Chandrasakar Organisation.”
She looked at him, suspicious. “If I agree?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to say yes without talking it over with you, was I?”
She felt her heart thumping. “What does he want you to do?”
“First, I’ll tell you what he’ll do for us. One, he’ll underwrite Li’s entire care and aftercare in the Station’s best medical centre, with the best surgeons. Second, on top of that he’ll pay me a hundred thousand dollars, US.”
She pulled a frightened face. “But what does he want you to do?”
He took a mouthful of beer. “Read a mind.”
She cocked her head. “Read a mind? Come on!”
“That’s it. Read a mind. One mind-”
“So why doesn’t he just hire a run-of-the-mill telepath who’d do it for a few thousand?”
