“I’m thinking Alt’s hunch to cut us loose is going to end up worse for Alt than for us,” Nessa said. She looked at Ken, who looked at his wristwatch again.
They weren’t even close to late.
“Then things will be bad for him,” Ken said. “Can you still sense the problem, this thing we’re heading towards?” He looked every inch the prosperous businessman, in a style similar to his PI outfits, but with new clothes. Nessa pinned a scarf around her neck, then went back to brushing her hair, still tangled from last night no matter how much she brushed.
Nessa nodded. “I don’t want to talk about, uh, whatever,” she said. She didn’t know what horror they stumbled towards, but she sensed something out there sucking them in. She only knew she couldn’t defeat the problem by stumbling and delay. Like so many things, they would only be able to fight back when they arrived. “Actually, I think it’s going to be good for us that Alt cut us loose, even after we rescue Uffie.”
“Why so?” Ken asked. “I thought you already did your hair.”
She didn’t bother with anything more than a raised eyebrow. “This will be better for us because we don’t have to hold back any more to keep the others from being disgusted or inhibited.”
“You were holding back?”
“Not as much as you were,” Nessa said. She opened up her clutch purse, which she used for her jewelry, looking for a good set of earrings. Not finding what she wanted, she dumped the clutch purse out on the undersized hotel room table, keeping the gold chains and earrings from skittering off the edge of the table with her telekinesis. “But, yes, I was holding back a little.”
“Is this enough to compensate for the stability loss you suffered when we lost Alt’s group?”
“Dancing last night fixed the problem,” Nessa said, and pushed at Ken’s mind. “You don’t believe me? Bastard. Want me to peel back your mental defenses and…”
“We don’t have time for this,” Ken said, blocking Nessa’s push. He radiated edginess and fatigue.
Nessa shrugged. She kinda sorta knew she still had a few gaps in the brain, but she felt real close to being full on. “I suspect I’ll be different. Various tricks will work better and others will work worse. Things always change when I’m forced to vary my stability support. Not too different, though. Don’t forget that you’re still here and you’re behind a lot of my mental stability these days.”
Ken tapped his archaic keepsake wristwatch.
Nessa selected earrings and two necklaces, then put the rest away. She took out her makeup case, bent down to look at herself in the piss-poor reflection of the room’s coffee pot, and started to put on her makeup.
“You didn’t have any problems with mirrors yesterday,” Ken said.
“Uh huh, because I was fucking discombobulated,” Nessa said. “Like being out in daylight: my problems bother me worse when I’m most functional. Today I’m going to have to wear the wrap-around sunglasses.” Ken didn’t answer and Nessa sensed his mind trying to churn out an appropriately cutting response. “Don’t say a thing. I’ve got levels of dysfunctional you haven’t yet plumbed.”
“That, love, sounds like a warning.”
“Yes,” Nessa said. “If I told you that since you showed up I’ve had one of my best six months in years and years, what would you say?”
“I’d say that having me around to help stabilize your sanity is a godsend for you,” Ken said. “And you should have never quit working for my private investigation company.”
Nessa stopped in mid-swipe at her eyelashes. She hadn’t expected his second comment. “My comment was an invitation for a drama queen response, not an invitation for far-too-true analysis.”
Ken didn’t answer.
“You okay?” Nessa asked.
“No, I’m not okay. I haven’t been this ‘not okay’ in years.”
“I’m bad for you,” Nessa said. “Damn.”
“The loss of the other Telepaths is what’s bad, not you, Nessa,” Ken said. He paced. “I liked being part of a team. I liked being in charge of a team of Telepaths, to tell you the truth. I was complete for once.”
“You like being in charge of things, yes, I know, but I thought you had problems because everyone kept looking at me as the ginormous guru of mystic mentalism, despite my manic mayhem moments.” She thought getting him good and jealous last night had yanked him out of this funk. Not so, she decided.
“Being in charge made up for the Nessa problem,” Ken said. She frowned. “Until Alt started to take over.”
“Ah, Alt. Jealous?”
“You bet.”
“Paranoid?”
“The standard side effect of my dysfunction.”
“Twitchy.”
“Yes, I’m worried about today’s meeting with Nairobi”
Nessa put away the last of her makeup. “Tell me I don’t look hideous.”
“You look fine. Did you know that you always put on your makeup using your left hand, even though you’re right handed?”
“Of course,” Nessa said. “Left sock has my clairvoyance. Left sock’s far more than a nasty conniving bitch. Remind me to talk to you more on the subject.”
“Don’t bother,” Ken said.
Nessa put her hands on her hips and glared at Ken. “Okay, what’s wrong that you’re not telling me?”
“What you did to me last night, at the disco, was nasty,” he said. “I’m still pissed.”
She closed her eyes and thought, bringing back the memories. Oh. She had gone for ‘jealous’, but she had pushed him all the way to ‘enraged’. “I’m sorry, but you’re right. I was cruel.”
“Why did you goad me to start with?” Ken said.
Nessa blushed and turned away, which brought Ken over to her. “I just wanted some real hard sex,” Nessa said, her voice a whisper. He always got a little violent when he got jealous. Her blush deepened, remembering other times.
“You could have just asked.”
Her blush deepened some more and her voice grew quieter. “Asking isn’t right.”
Ken sighed. Bedcovers and dust rearranged themselves on their own, and the ceiling groaned. Uh huh, Nessa thought, time to get out of here.
Nairobi had the build of a professional athlete and sat behind a desk that would have done a Fortune 50 CEO plutocrat proud. The God’s office had to be four thousand square feet in size, a ridiculous space, Spartan and nearly unfurnished. He had four advisors, two men to his left and two women to his right. Uffie sat next to him, on his right. Nessa and Ken’s bodyguards, all eight of them, stood in a line behind them. The bodyguards had left behind their weapons many doors and guard stations back.
“Welcome, welcome,” Nairobi said. “I’ve heard that you want to talk to me about a business deal.”
“Yes,” Ken said.
“One of your chief advisors…” Ken said.
Nessa tuned Ken out and investigated minds. She started with care, not wishing to upset Nairobi, but as she picked out radiated thoughts and pieced together the puzzle, her anger grew.
“…and we would like to talk to her in private, to ascertain her wishes on the position she holds with you,” Ken said.
“Not in private,” Nairobi said. “I am willing…”
“Fraud,” Nessa said.
“Nessa?”
Nessa concentrated and pushed with her mind. The illusions covering the four advisors vanished, and the advisors turned into uniformed thugs carrying AKs. Nairobi vanished and became a young punk, a Grade Two Supported.
“I was promised a meeting with Nairobi,” Nessa said. “Not this charade.”
The AKs pointed at them turned abruptly to the ceiling. Ken’s work.
“Wait,” the young punk Supported said. “Divine Nai
robi was afraid of such violent acts, but he also has an offer. If you wish to speak to the Divine Nairobi and your friend Eufemia Zumbrennen, who is His loyal advisor, there is a way.”
“A way,” Nessa said.
“Yes. You must provide a gift.”
“What sort of gift?” Ken said.
“Twenty five million American dollars, or the equivalent, would make a splendid gift,” the young punk said.
“I don’t appreciate shakedowns.” A nest of appropriate responses exploded in her mind. She picked one of the more obnoxious, pure Bugs Bunny, and readied her mind. “This. Means…” Ken put his hand on Nessa’s shoulder.
Ken was right, dammit. Nessa clenched her teeth. She wanted to start now.
“This means we need to talk to our backers, who may be equally angry,” Nessa said.
“Talk all you want,” the punk said. “No munificent gift, no audience.”
“Of all the absurd, idiotic and asinine pieces of shit!” Nessa said, letting out a good scream after they had returned to their transportation. Evil Dude, the nastiest of their bodyguards, climbed behind the wheel and drove off. Nobody on the team trusted any locals behind the wheel. “I say we go dancing for a couple of days, and then when they’re not expecting anything go in at night and rip the place off the planet!” A ghost of a smile played over Evil Dude’s face.
“Uh huh,” Ken said. “Just two Telepaths and our Supported bodyguards against who knows what? Nessa, remember how powerful Miami was three and a half months ago? The Gods are still growing in power. I’m not convinced we have a chance.”
“There’s nothing in Nairobi’s lair the least bit powerful,” Nessa said.
“Given the deceptions you’ve seen already, is there any reason to believe the place is Nairobi’s lair?” Soft Hand Lady said. She sat beside Nessa, doting as usual.
“Well, okay, good point,” Nessa said. She glowered at Soft Hand Lady’s most likely correct assessment and thought.
Rats. What about rats? Could Nessa become the rats of the city and find Nairobi’s true lair that way? Hardly worth it. Too easy to fool rats. There weren’t many cats and dogs in this city, not enough for a spy mission. She would have to use people…
Which would be a pain. That level of mind-work had to be done at night, not in this damned place so bright she had to squint behind her wrap-around sunglasses.
Back in the hotel, she planted herself on the edge of the bed and watched Ken pace.
“What’s your big idea, Ken?”
“We need to contact Portland. Talk to her,” Ken said.
“How are we going to contact Portland?” Nessa said. Men. So impractical. She slumped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “We don’t have Javier with us anymore. You know I can’t telep that far.” About all she could do at that distance was give her target a headache.
Ken cleared his throat
“Yes?”
He cleared his throat again. Nessa looked over to him. Ken opened his palm and showed her his phone.
“Oh, right. Cellphones. So, why aren’t you calling?”
“It’s the middle of the goddamned night, Nessa.”
“No, it’s eleven in the morning. I’m sure of it. The sun, remember?”
“I mean in the city of Portland,” Ken said. “1 AM or so.”
Nessa reddened. Time zones. “She’s a God. She’ll cope.”
“I’m trying not to be rude,” Ken said. “Not when she’s bought into Alt and John’s ‘oh they agreed with Satan so they’re tainted’ bullshit. We need her help, not an argument.”
“Fine,” Nessa said. Crazy annoying piece of shit obnoxious rape-oriented scumbucket. “I’m going down to the lounge so I can be pissed off and not disturb you.”
“Nessa?”
Nessa opened her eyes. Twisty uncomfortable couches and small useless tables surrounded a giant indoor fountain in the hotel lounge. She had found one of the few actually comfortable chairs and had been following a ten dollar bill as the money got passed from person to person, bribe to bribe. She hadn’t tricked any of her victims into bribing less or more, or more often, but she had made sure that when they did, they passed on the worn ten dollar bill. Unfortunately, she suspected the game had reached the end of the line; the ten dollar bill was now in the hands of someone who thought in accounting terminology and who knew he worked for a criminal businessman.
As Nessa drew back from her game, Soft Hand Lady sat down beside her on the nearest twisty couch. “You again?”
“If you have a moment, I’d like to talk,” Soft Hand Lady said. “I’m afraid I may no longer be fit for service among your bodyguards.”
Nessa looked Soft Hand Lady over. Emotional distress, yes, but nothing evil or debilitating, like a drug habit. “You’re fine,” Nessa said. “Why do you want to quit?”
“I’ve lost control of my emotions and they no longer make sense to me,” Soft Hand Lady said. “When I’m with you I’m in love with you but when I’m not I hate you.”
Lady’s comment raised hackles on Nessa’s arms. She checked over Soft Hand Lady more closely. “You’re still asexual.” If there was any lust in Soft Hand Lady’s head, she hid the desire where Nessa couldn’t sense.
“Not what I mean,” Soft Hand Lady said. “The problem is I want to bow down to you and worship you. Platonic or divine love.”
“Okay, you’re twisted, so what?” Nessa said. She didn’t want to deal with this sort of crap right now.
Soft Hand Lady turned away and studied her knees. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were in such a horrible mood.”
“Am I being rude again?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Well, you know, that’s part of the package,” Nessa said. She didn’t feel apologetic right then either. “So, tell me, why can’t you love someone you’re bodyguarding?”
“It affects my reflexes and my reactions. Because of it, I might take too many risks to protect you, which would not be fair to the others, or to Ken.”
“Life isn’t such a finely tuned watch, Lady,” Nessa said.
Soft Hand Lady frowned, not sure what to make of ‘Lady’ or Nessa’s statement.
“I don’t understand.”
“The fact your emotions are confused doesn’t make that large a difference. At least not when you factor in the sort of people Ken and I deal with, using the term ‘people’ loosely, and the magnitude of my own mood swings. Compared to the problems I’m causing you, the problem is insignificant.”
“The problem matters to me.”
“Well, I don’t want you to go,” Nessa said. “But I can’t stop you if you want to go.” She could, actually, but stopping her wouldn’t be right. “Let me try something else. When did this emotional confusion start, Lady?”
Her watch, which she kept in her purse, binged on the hour. Nessa opened her purse and stuck a square of chocolate into her mouth.
“Uh, I’m not sure,” Soft Hand Lady said, lying. Soft Hand Lady bowed her head to Nessa.
“Tell the truth.”
“I don’t want to imply you failed.”
“Failed at what? Oh,” Nessa said. Now she understood. “This started just after I helped you strengthen your telepathy shields.”
Soft Hand Lady nodded, flushed.
“The problem got much worse after we all went dancing and I danced my way back to sanity.”
Another nod from Soft Hand Lady.
“Hmm,” Nessa said, sucking on the chocolate. “Well, there is that possibility.”
“What possibility?”
“I’d have to check deep into your mind.”
“I didn’t think you could do that.”
“It’s a gift f
rom Portland, part of my own Grade Two Supported crap,” Nessa said. She had always been able to get into the minds of Mindbound, but the trick normally took lots and lots of time and often lots of embarrassing touching. Portland’s tricks sped things up. “She gave me a whole ton of them. Being one of the smarter Gods, she figured out hundreds of little enhancements she could give me. Certainly more than I thought up for myself.”
“Aren’t you afraid she’s controlling you?”
“She’s supported you similarly.”
“Yes, but I know she’s played with my mind,” Soft Hand Lady said. “For one thing, she put in some inhibitions about my going after her people. Those were easy to find.”
“Trust me on this. No one messes with my mind,” Nessa said. “Well, they do, but the effects don’t take long to go away.”
“Why?”
“Because I always play with my own mind, and anything stuck inside gets stretched out and worn out in hours.”
“I’m not sure I understand, but I don’t have any objections,” Soft Hand Lady said, bowing. “Go ahead. Do your thing.”
Nessa put her hands on Soft Hand Lady’s head and opened herself up. Nessa didn’t take long to find what she feared. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have recruited you. I should have caught this the first time, but I guess I missed it because I was so messed up, and because your main trick is so obscure. I wonder if this counts as breaking those agreements?”
“Now I really don’t understand.”
“You’re on the other side,” Nessa said.
“Other side of what?”
“You’re an other.”
“I’m a what?” Soft Hand Lady asked. “I thought you said before I was a so-so Mindbound?”
“Nope. You’re an other with mind shields,” Nessa said. Soft Hand Lady shook her head. “My comment didn’t make much sense, did it? My mother’s an other like you.” More bafflement. “Okay. Let’s see if I can explain this without this getting even more confusing. Not all people with strange mental tricks are Telepaths. Some, instead, are others who get hunches and self-knowledge of their own bodies, and other tricks that they won’t tell me about. I call them others because they won’t tell me what they call themselves.” Some, Nessa had observed, were crazy good at self-healing. “Nearly all of the others consider Telepaths to be their enemies, and learn or self-train mind shields to protect their minds. I think it’s instinctive. For instance, that’s why you have misgivings when I go into your mind.”
99 Gods: Betrayer Page 19
