A Rage for Revenge watc-3

by David Gerrold

  It made me uncomfortable to sit and hold Holly so close. I wanted to hug her because children need hugging; but I was afraid to hug her because . . .

  . . . because Jason and his Tribe believed that it was all right for children and teenagers to have sex with each other and with adults if they wanted, and I was afraid that I might forget where I was and who I was with. I was afraid that I would hurt one of these children, and they'd already all been hurt enough.

  It was this simple. I was the wrong person to be entrusted with the care of these children, no matter how much I loved them. And I couldn't tell Betty-John, because they needed me here more than they needed to know the terrible truth about me.

  Neither Holly nor I had said anything for a long time. I had just sat there, thinking and stroking her hair and making cooing noises and occasionally kissing the top of her head.

  I guess I knew it already. I was going to have to leave here. It would be best for everybody.

  "Jim?"

  "Yeah, Punkin'?"

  "I love you."

  "I love you too."

  "I'm sorry about the . . . the tool shed. I got scared."

  "That's all right, honey. I get scared too sometimes. There're some pretty ugly tools in that shed."

  "Uh-uh." She didn't amplify what she meant.

  For some reason, I thought of Dr. Davidson and his calm, patient voice. He could ask you anything and you wouldn't be afraid to answer him. You wanted him to know everything. You wanted him to understand.

  I wished I could talk to him again.

  I wished Holly could talk to him. Hell, I wished Holly could talk to me. I put on my best Dr. Davidson voice.

  "Who hit you?" I said.

  "Mommy did," she whispered quietly.

  "Mommy hit you?" I sounded surprised. "Why did Mommy hit you?"

  "Because I wouldn't stay in the closet. Mommy told me to hide in the closet and be real quiet and I did-for a little while; but then I got all scared and . . . " She stopped to wipe her nose on my shirt again. She sniffled hard, and for a moment I thought she was going to start crying again, but she didn't. She blurted quickly, "I opened the door and started to ask Mommy if it was all right to come out, if the game was over yet, and she slapped me hard and pushed me back into the closet as hard as she could and told me to shut up and then she slammed the door and locked it or pushed something in front of the door, because I couldn't open it to get out, and I tried, real hard, I screamed loud as I could too, but nobody heard me or came-and then . . . ," Holly gulped, hard, ". . . and then I heard Mommy screaming. Real bad, mister. Mommy was screaming like she was being hurt real bad. And it went on for a long time. And the other thing was screaming too, the big red thing-and I pounded on the doors and hollered to let me out so I could help my mommy, but nobody did. And I couldn't get out of the closet. It was all broken anyway. I was in the closet for so long-I think two or three months, I don't know for sure. It was so dark in there, mister. Please, is my mommy all right? Can I see her now?"

  "Shh, sweetheart. Shh." I held her and stroked her hair and rocked her in my lap and said, "Shh, Jim is here now. Jim is here."

  So that explained Holly and why she was afraid of the tool shed, and the closets in the house, and all of the other dark enclosed places in the world.

  Abruptly, she looked up at me. "You're not going away?"

  "I love you, sweetheart." And it was true. I did.

  And even if I didn't, how could I leave her now?

  Chuck is weird, let the whole world know it.

  He brought in his bucket to show it.

  We all had a fit

  when we saw it was shit.

  We didn't know he was planning to throw it.

  34

  Bait

  "A friend is someone who likes you in spite of yourself."

  -SOLOMON SHORT

  Forty-three days later (it would have been sooner, but Betty-John had to be sure), I was a father. It was one of the fastest gestations in recorded history, and one of the most fruitful: Tommy, Holly, Alec and Bear. That's what the papers said; three children, one stuffed animal.

  Birdie administered the oath while B-Jay glowed proudly. The kids, scrubbed and shiny, stood solemnly by my side in new shirts and shorts (B-Jay had splurged for this occasion), not quite understanding what was going on, simply that it was important.

  I had explained it to them very carefully. What it meant was that they were going to be living with me permanently now, and that I was going to be their Daddy and take care of them. Tommy nodded gravely at this, he accepted it without comment. Holly asked if that meant she was going to be the Mommy. I asked her if she wouldn't like to be the little girl instead, but she said no, she wanted to be the Mommy. I sidestepped that for a while. Alec, who didn't say anything at first, finally managed to gulp, "Bear too?"

  "Of course, Bear too." And that was how Bear got adopted. Getting the papers approved hadn't been hard. Betty-John had begun preparing them after the third week, and Birdie had already, very surreptitiously, completed her interviews (and I thought she'd been honestly curious about the kids). The only one that caught me by surprise was the anti-dowry release; even though Congress had already approved the Inheritance Act, the rest of the bureaucracy hadn't yet caught up. I still had to swear that I wasn't marrying the kids for their money; even if they didn't have any now, they might inherit some later. Etc., etc.

  I was already familiar with the adoption oath, but looked it over again for loopholes, zingers, hooks, and bear traps. Didn't find any and took it proudly. My "I do," was one of the gladdest things I have ever done in my life.

  Only two things marred the day. One a little one, the other-well, it almost wrecked the adoption.

  The little one first.

  During a quiet moment in the afternoon, Betty-John came to me carrying a small box. She didn't look too happy.

  "What's up, Fairy Godmother?" She didn't smile.

  "These are for you and the kids."

  "More presents'?"

  "Not exactly-"

  I opened the box. There were four little leather sacks, on neckstraps. "What are they?"

  "Good luck charms." She wasn't smiling.

  I tried to open one, but it had been stitched shut and further sealed with some kind of plastic glue.

  "You'll be seeing them on all the kids before the day is over. They came in yesterday."

  "Isn't this a little much-what with beepers, dog tags, medical records, trouble whistles, and all? I mean, haven't those kids got enough to wear around their necks? Why don't we get them flea collars too?"

  "This isn't my idea, it's the government's. These are the worm charms I was telling you about."

  "What's in them?"

  Betty-John shrugged. "Top secret." Then she added, "Ground glass, cyanide, and sporulated bacteria, I'm not sure what kind."

  "Huh? How do you know that?"

  "One of them came open. Fortunately it happened in the medical lab while Birdie was looking at it in a steri-field."

  "Oh," I said, then. "Hey, won't you be one short?"

  "No, they sent extras. In any case, that was the one for Billy Jamieson."

  Billy had died a month and a half before. He'd been one of the two babies on the same bus that delivered Tommy, Holly, and Alec. Pneumonia. There hadn't been any medicine available to save him.

  I bounced the charms in my hand. "They're sealed awfully tight. I don't see how they're going to do much good."

  "They're not for the kids, Jim."

  "But the cyanide-?"

  "Do you know a kid who'd take it? Uh-uh, I'm not giving L-pills to any kids. I certainly am not even going to try to explain to one why he should have an L-pill. We've got enough troubles already with boogey-men up in the hills-I don't want to have to deal with nightmares about Chtorrans too. The cyanide is for the worm, same as the bacteria and the ground glass. Any worm eats a kid wearing one of these, it'll be the last kid he eats. We hope."

  I look
ed at her. I looked at the tiny pouches in my hand. I looked at her again. "It seems awfully callous . . .

  "It's orders. If we want to receive government funding, then we have to protect our children. Someone in Denver suggested that we give them worm charms. The theory is that Chtorrans are not naturally man-eaters, but like tigers, occasionally one of them gets the taste. This is the 'Take one of them with you' theory. The kids are the bait."

  "I, uh-I can see the logic behind it."

  "You don't like it, do you?" B-Jay said.

  I shook my head. "I'm not crazy about the implications."

  She nodded. "Neither am I, but put 'em on your kids anyway, will you?"

  I did, and then I went to my terminal and patched in to Central. I dug around until I found some of the preliminary reports on the charms. The material was classified, but I still had my Special Forces passwords. Whoever or whatever was supposed to be handling security wasn't doing a very good job, because the computer dumped it all onto my screen.

  The worm charms had more in them than ground glass, cyanide, and tailored bacteria, but that was close enough. The theory was that the Chtorrans had awfully tough flesh, inside and out. The ground glass was to tear up the tissues. The tailored bacteria would then have a chance to get into the bloodstream and kill the beast.

  But Betty-John had been wrong on one thing. It wasn't cyanide, it was nerve gas-and it was for the kids. Nerve gas doesn't have the same effect on Chtorrans as it does on human beings, it only makes them sick; but a Chtorran crunching into a kid's chest would release enough of the poison to put the kid out of his pain fast. They'd thought of everything. Now all we needed were Chtorrans considerate enough to make sure they bit the charm when they bit the kid.

  There was a serious flaw in the logic of the report. Man-eating tigers had been roaming in India and Pakistan for years, but neither of those governments had ever had people start wearing tiger charms. There weren't enough man-eaters to justify it. The number of deaths per year was "acceptable." But that was the same comparison that our government was making about the Chtorrans: they aren't man-eaters and there aren't enough of them to be concerned about.

  But then, why the charms?

  Why charms on all military, civil, and government-supported personnel as mandatory regulations? And why charms sold at cost to civilians'? That said an awful lot about how serious the government considered the Chtorrans to be. And because the government was always at least two years behind the times, that said an awful lot about how serious the Chtorran infestation really was. The number of deaths per year was "unacceptable" and this was obviously a last-ditch desperate weapon.

  The appendices were interesting too. The coiled springs with enzyme dissolvable binding threads had been discarded as possibly dangerous to the wearer. Likewise, the radioactive elements and the poison vectors. The old-fashioned methods, it seemed, were still the best. Although there were not enough live Chtorrans in captivity to test the charms on, the government expected that using a large segment of the population as a test lab would show which charms were most effective. Family was considered part of the Northwest Region. We'd been issued Formulation DSX-13. Terrific. I hadn't adopted three kids. I'd taken custody of bait.

  "Which partners are best? Sixty-niners.

  And better than that? Try the Shriners."

  These are the results

  of consenting adults,

  (and occasional like-minded minors.)

  35

  Tommy

  "Let sleeping dogma lie."

  -SOLOMON SHORT

  The other thing happened that night.

  I tucked Alec and Holly into bed-they shared a double bed in the room next to mine-and then put Tommy in his. Because he was so much older than the other two, I felt he deserved a room of his own.

  Look, if I'd been more worldly, I'd have recognized the signs on the first night when I set up the accommodations. Tommy had insisted on having Alec with him. When I asked why, he said only, "'Cause he's mine."

  But I'd been naive. I'd said, "Well, I know you've been together for a long time. Nobody's going to take him away from you. But I just thought that it was time you had a room of your own. "

  He seemed to assent, but the next morning, I found that he'd joined the other two in their bed. I didn't think anything of it at the time, I figured it was just one more sign of what they'd been through.

  So I didn't argue with it. I just let it be.

  But now that I was their legal father, it was my job to support them in growing up. So, I put Tommy in his own room again and told him that he couldn't sleep with Alec all the time, and I wanted him to sleep in his own room from now on.

  Then I went to bed myself.

  I lay there for fifteen minutes, trying to relax-trying to force myself to relax-listening to the sound of the air conditioner, and wondering how it was possible to have a family without a wife. I had just about figured it wasn't important, the kids needed me, when somebody came pad-padding into the room.

  "Tommy, is that you?"

  The bed creaked as he slipped under the covers. "Tommy?"

  "I want to sleep here."

  I didn't turn on the light. "What's the matter?"

  "Nothin'. I just want to sleep with you." He slid up close and put his arms around me. Tight. He was pretty strong for a thirteen-year-old. "You're my Daddy now."

  "Uh-huh." I hugged him back and stroked his hair. "But you're a big boy now, and-hey!" I pulled the covers back and sat up. "What the hell are you doing-?"

  I immediately regretted yelling. I could see his dim silhouette trembling in the dark. His voice quavered. "You don't want me?" The bottom dropped out of my gut as I realized what he was talking about.

  "I thought you wanted me. Isn't that why you adopted me?"

  "I adopted you because I love you, Tommy."

  He sniffled.

  "I do love you," I insisted. My mind was racing, trying to figure the best way to handle the situation. "I really do." He seemed almost to relax, and started to move closer again. "But-this isn't what I meant. Tommy, do you love me?"

  "You won't let me!"

  "That's not what I'm talking about. There are lots of different kinds of love . . ."

  "What do you want?" he cried. He wasn't even listening. He was crying now, sobbing like a little girl. I began to realize: he'd offered me the only thing he had, his body, and I'd rejected it. How could I really love him if I wouldn't let him return the feeling?

  "Tommy . . ." I wanted to take him into my arms and hold him, but I didn't dare.

  Instead, I got out of bed. "Stay there," I grunted. I padded into the living room and punched the phone to life. Betty-John was awake-at this hour?-she caught it on the second chime. "Who is it?"

  "Jim. I've got a problem."

  "Can't it wait till morning?"

  "No, it can't. B-Jay, did those papers on the kids ever come down?"

  "No, why?"

  "Tommy just tried to climb into bed with me. I want to know where-"

  "Is that all?"

  "Maybe I didn't make myself clear, B-Jay. He wanted to do more than sleep."

  "I got it the first time. I said, is that all?"

  "B-Jay-!"

  "Jim, we've had to deal with this before. In fact, it crops up so often, I'm surprised you didn't know. I thought you did. You should have recognized it in the way he treats Alec."

  "Well, I didn't. And this is no time to hash it over. What I need to know is what to do?"

  "Get back in bed. Tell him you love him."

  "I tried that. It didn't work."

  "I said, tell him you love him. Tell it to him in a way he'll understand. "

  "Betty-John-"

  Her voice rose sharply. "I'll tell it to you in words you'll understand. Most of these kids we're getting have been found in small towns, or other situations where there hasn't been a lot of organization, not a lot of social structure. They've survived not by any inherent survival skills-these aren'
t feral children, they're socielized just enough to be very very vulnerable. These are the kind of children who are the first to die in a population crash, and the ones we're getting are the ones who've learned that their survival depends upon the good graces of other human beings. Sometimes there's a price on those good graces. I'm sorry to shock you, Jim, I thought you knew.

  "A lot of these kids have survived only by whoring. It's part of the rules of the game as far as they're concerned. You can't change the rules on them overnight, because they won't understand what you're trying to do. It cost them too much to learn the rules this way. When you pushed that kid away, you were telling him that he's unlovable."

  "That's not true-"

  "But that's what he thought, because he doesn't know how to think anything else. Jim, think of this. We're seeing the best of the kids who've survived. What do you think happened to the unattractive ones, the ones who weren't cute enough to whore?" I didn't answer.

  Betty-John said it straight out, "Jim, you just told Tommy that he's got to die because you're not going to take care of him."

  "But he should know better than that," I protested.

  "Should he? He's had three years to learn it the other way. Can you erase that in six weeks?"

  "I-I guess not. But I thought. . ."

  "You adopted those kids for better or worse. Well, this is part of the worse. He's trying to pay you in the only coin he has. You've got to do one of two things. Either accept this payment, or teach him that there are other ways to pay back the debt. If you can't do the second tonight, and I don't think you can, you'll have to do the first. And spare me the arguments about morality or humanity. Not at this hour-they can all be shot down by the first thing anyone here at Family has to learn. We have to deal with the kids on their terms if we're going to reach them." She stopped for a moment. "Perhaps I owe you an apology for not warning you in advance, but I thought you had the situation under control."

  "You knew?"

  "Since day one. Birdie had to treat Tommy for the clap. Alec too."

  "Alec-?"