They turned on to Uhuru Highway, the name of which brought a new smile to Nessa’s face, especially when Beer Gut #2 and Loser Lady #2 cracked the inevitable Star Trek jokes. As any Telepath, Nessa was good with languages, but she hadn’t had the time or put the effort into mastering Kiswahili, the co-state language with English. For one thing, nearly all the Kenyan locals she poked her mind into primarily spoke and thought in their local tribal language, except the local youth, who thought in Sheng, the English-Kiswahili-tribal tongue pidgin language. “The park on the left is, ta da, Uhuru Park,” Nessa said, which got another round of japes from the bodyguards.
She didn’t recognize any of the foliage in the park and very little of the local wildlife.
“You’re thinking about the twins,” Nessa said, to Ken.
“Yes.”
“Worried again?”
“Of course. Our business is too dangerous. The precipice is coming closer and closer.”
Nessa nodded. “You think I should back out of it? I don’t think it’s possible, but I’ll try if you want to.” She figured she owed Ken a lot of obedience, especially after what she put him through after Alt booted their booties.
“Backing out is more possible now because we’re no longer with Alt and the gang,” Ken said. “We’re only responsible for ourselves. I was going to bring it up after we rescued Uffie.”
“It’s a good thought.” Could she? Perhaps. She had to get Uffie back to America first, though. “What would we do with ourselves?”
“Find a place to hide, like the other intelligent Telepaths, I guess,” Ken said.
“We do that and we’ll be at each other’s throats in a month. Despite how well linked we are, we’re still Telepaths and we still have all the annoying ‘asocial Telepath’ crap bopping around in our noggins,” Nessa said. She ignored the leaked thoughts of far too many of their bodyguards, thoughts going: ‘what, they aren’t at each other’s throats now?’ Both of the Loser Ladies sniped the most, and as recompense she gave them both temporary bunions.
“I talked to Portland about the asocial Telepath problem, one morning before you woke up,” Ken said. “She thinks she can provide us a meditation device to counteract the problem.”
“I’ll believe the damned trick will work only when I write my memoirs,” Nessa said. Such a gift, even from Portland, sounded too good to be true. “If not for the 99 Gods, I’d say that the best thing to do would be for me to work with you as a PI.”
“I thought you hated working for me.”
“Well, it’s not the best thing for me to do, but it keeps me busy, and if you can cope with my independent streak I can cope with you ordering me around.” It would give her a chance to yank his chain enough to get some hard sex out of the deal. Occasionally. “Besides, I’ll have the twins to deal with in a few more months.”
The high-rise buildings of downtown Nairobi grew on their right as they walked up Uhuru, which appeared to be the edge of the modern downtown area. To Nessa, Nairobi looked like any other modern city, at least above street level. Uhuru painted itself with the cars, paved streets, trees, sidewalks, and well-kept up buildings of familiar civilization. A few blocks over? Instant slum. More disturbing? Where they headed was far worse.
“You want to do the full-time mother thing?”
“I’m not sure,” Nessa said. “I can’t believe I’d make a good mother. I don’t trust me. I know I’m going to have bad days.”
“Uh huh.”
“‘Uh huh?’ You’re supposed to disagree with me and give me some support, blockhead.” She gave Ken a nudge in the ribs.
“Not on this subject. Sorry.” He was, at that. “Do we know anything about how adult Telepaths deal with their own children?”
Nessa sighed. Reality was such a cold bitch. “No. I wouldn’t even know who to ask.”
“Me either,” Ken said. “However, consider the idea of having one or two strong Mindbound on staff.”
“On staff? Like we’d have to pay them money and everything?” Nessa said. “That’s way too much money.”
“Not if, for instance, we accepted one of the 99 Gods’ invitations.”
“That’s not hiding or being PIs.”
“True. Staff Telepath to a God is ‘still in the game’, unfortunately. We need to consider the ‘staff Telepath’ path, but I’d rather hide.”
“Oh, right,” Nessa said. They turned off Uhuru and on to University, heading toward a bridge over the Nairobi River. “We’re stuck in a dilemma. We can’t hide and protect the twins from the 99 Gods at the same time as we protect the twins from me. Or us, if one of your violent phases crawls up from the depths.”
“Yah.”
“There’s another possibility,” Nessa said. “We could have someone else raise the twins for us.”
“Foster them out?” Ken asked. “Who?”
“Dunno. Just an idea.”
Ken walked in silence, deep in thought. Nessa didn’t peek and lost herself in the crowd. Occasionally she spotted Supported bearing the mark of Nairobi. From what she had been able to dig up about Nairobi’s actions, he and the politicians who ran Kenya cooperated, apparently a ‘you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours’ relationship. Nairobi’s only ‘excess’ involved the violent removal of an appalling Ugandan rebel movement Nessa doubted anyone would miss. If Nairobi had big dreams, he hid them well.
“My sister Larissa could do the job,” Ken said.
Nessa tried to remember Larissa and couldn’t, so she looked into Ken’s mind for his memories. “She’s good with kids, isn’t she?”
“Uh huh. She’s not going to sit still for any sass and she’s big on education.”
A top priority for Ken, who had spent his childhood with his nose buried in books. “There’s a good chance the twins will be Telepaths. Or at least, Mindbound.”
“Given us, yes.”
“You talk to Portland about our experiences?”
“You thinking that she might have some clues about how to nurture Telepaths and keep them from mentally imploding or fading into Mindbound?” Ken asked. Nessa nodded. “I’ve only talked to Portland a little on the subject. You?”
“Some, not much. I didn’t get the feeling she had any good ideas.” They started to cross over the Nairobi River. The reek hit Nessa in a wave, and she cut off the nerves to her sense of smell.
“From what I picked up, I got the feeling she didn’t think properly raising Telepaths would be much of a problem. Which is unrealistic, given what happened to us.” Ken paused and watched a flight of egret-like birds. “I could be convinced to have faith in Portland, though. She’s not flashy but she gets the job done.”
Faith. Now there’s a four letter word, Nessa said to herself. “There’s the Minds of the Sea.”
“That sounds expensive.”
“Not if we can find a way to continue the dialog they’ve recently started.”
Ken snorted. “I wouldn’t bet on their continuing interest. They still haven’t admitted they’re dolphin shared minds, for one.”
Nessa walked in silence, thinking about human-dolphin relations. “Still,” Nessa said, after they had crossed to the other side of the Nairobi River, “there’s the fact the Minds of the Sea depend on us Telepaths for contact with other people. They owe us. I think I’ve proven dolphin hard-wired grammar and human hard-wired grammar aren’t compatible and they’ll always need Telepaths to communicate.” She had been eavesdropping on the minds of too many interested linguists and she had picked up on some of their worries.
“That brings up something I’ve always wanted to talk to you about,” Ken said. “How come we don’t have the language problems with dolphins we have with humans?”
“Oh, that’s because we’re using a grammar-free telepathy mode,” Nessa said, proud of herself. She had figured out the answer without stealing the idea from the linguists.
“But how is this possible?” Ken said. “When I’ve been with you and you’ve telepped dolphins,
you’ve used standard human grammar.”
“We supply our grammar, the dolphins supply theirs,” Nessa said. They turned right, on an unnamed road, lined with decrepit buildings, to parallel the Nairobi River. “Here, let me show you.”
Ken sent.
Nessa remembered how she had figured out about the grammar. The insight wasn’t something she came up with entirely by herself.
“I’m looking forward to you meeting her as well,” Nessa said. “Stick to spoken language now. Easier to hide. Uffie’s like you, nose buried in a book more often than not. Her thoughts are as organized as yours.”
“Will I be able to telep her at all? Strong Mindbound give me fits.”
Telepathy with Mindbound was one of Nessa’s strengths. “It isn’t easy for me, either, but you’ll see. Uffie’s able to relax her mental shields when she puts her mind to it.”
“She’s a Psychic?”
“Nope!”
“Then that’s…”
“Later,” Nessa said. Yes, relaxing mental shields was ‘impossible’ for Mindbound. She didn’t want to explain, now, about the screwy mental shields many others possessed, or how easy it was to confuse them with real Mindbound. “There.” She pointed out an older man in his fifties, his curly hair shot with white, pulling a two-wheeled cart piled with junk.
The old man stopped when they approached, because Nessa had reached out and grabbed his mind. Surprised by her actions, he hadn’t had a chance to resist. Once grabbed, he tried to wiggle his mind free, but he lacked the strength.
“Let’s talk,” Nessa said.
The man spoke, but not in English.
“Crap,” Ken said.
“Wait.” Nessa wove a translation method into Ken’s mind, based on what she had picked up of Kiswahili, which the old man knew. The translation wouldn’t be perfect, but would suffice. “There.”
“Sir, just a few questions,” Ken said.
“I will not be your servant,” the old man said. He spoke in Kiswahili and Nessa provided the translation. “Nor will I let you rob me.”
“Why is someone who works for Nairobi hauling trash?” Nessa said. She provided the translation for the old man as well. As she did, she made the trick automatic, so her mind did the translation and she overrode the pieces of Ken’s and the old man’s minds that heard things. She had been experimenting with similar tricks for years. Someday she wanted to have enough time, and the right people, to set this up with telepathy instead of translation. To the people involved, it would look like Nessa had made them into Telepaths, even though this would just be a trick.
“I’m a gleaner. I know where good trash is, trash I can sell,” the old man said. “Besides, I don’t want to be beholden to Nairobi.”
“Understandable,” Nessa said. The old man, a low-end Telepath who didn’t believe he could read minds when sober, had every right to be paranoid. Never could tell who might walk up and want to use him. “This won’t take but a moment, sir. We want to know where Nairobi’s real lair is, so we can drop in on him. We mean you no harm.”
“I don’t know where his lair is,” the old man said. “He hides the location from me as well.”
“No problem,” Nessa said. “I understand. Thank you. Oh, by the way, you’re going to forget you ever met us.”
“Okay,” the old man said.
“You get it?” Nessa asked Ken, after the old Telepath walked off, pulling his trash cart.
“Yes,” Ken said. “The location was hidden – coded – in his mind, but he carried a gleaner’s map in his head Nairobi missed, including the location of Nairobi’s lair.” Nessa grinned and gave Ken’s hand a squeeze. She couldn’t have ever picked up on something so devious and detailed.
They turned left on the next road, which took them to Ngara, a main road they could follow to the southeast back to a bridge across the Nairobi River, and eventually back to their hotel. “If you could do anything you wanted, Nessa, what would it be?” Ken said.
Hey, where did this come from? She poked at Ken’s mind, but he anticipated her probe and barricaded his thoughts with iron. “Me? What, Ken, you’re asking me to scheme?”
“Dream, not scheme.”
“I don’t trust your question,” Nessa said. “Dreams lead to schemes, and my schemes are poison.” Today, thankfully, she knew. Most days, she didn’t. Probably why he had waited until today to ask.
“What if someone gave you a gift of the proceeds of a scheme,” Ken said. “Fulfilled your fondest wishes. What would those be?”
“Your question hurts my mind.” She leaned up against Ken. He loved her. His love helped the mind hurt he just inflicted. “I’ve trained myself not to think along those lines, because when I do I get into bad trouble.” For a moment, she fought flashbacks of drug deals gone south and the impossibility of keeping her underlings from skimming.
“If we’re going to stay partners, you don’t have to limit your dreams so much. I can help.”
“Uh, okay,” Nessa said. “Part of me wants to have a party, the rest of me is still in awe of the fact we’re still married.” She paused and thought. “You’re worried our marriage will fall apart after we free Uffie, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” He had seen this in one of his hunches, a contingent hunch where they were no longer together. The knowledge pained her a lot.
“I thought the kids would be the glue.” Her fondest hope.
“For you, perhaps, but I’m not the one who’s pregnant,” Ken said. “Face it, Nessa. I’m a guy. I was raised around young babies; I have grandnieces and I’ve always babysat. Babies are nothing special to me. I need more. Truth, Nessa. I’m sorry.”
His words hurt. Lying about a topic so fundamental was dangerous to a Telepath, though. She would rather face the hurt now than when she was too squirrelly brained to fix the problem. Besides, Ken already had the solution. “You want one of my schemes to be the glue.”
“I want to give you your dreams, not your schemes,” Ken said.
“Hmm,” Nessa said. Dangerous to think like this. Good mental exercise, though. Besides, if anyone had messed with her mind recently, twisting her mind around into tortuous knots would take care of that. “Give me a few minutes.”
They walked, arm in arm. Nessa opened up her Pandora’s Box of desires and rummaged. Most were childish, but she always knew that, even when she wanted to be Empress Vanessa I of the Earth. Some were more realistic, more complex, yet just as far beyond her grasp as the childish ideas. Many were t
oo small, such as her ‘set people up as fake Telepaths’ idea, to count as a real dream.
She had learned. Life had taught her far too many hard lessons.
They were back on Haile Selassie by the time Nessa had her answer. “I know,” she said. “I want to be the dolphins’ human ambassador to the United Nations.”
“Interesting,” Ken said. “It fits. I can’t help you with the dolphin end of things, but on the human end of things? It sounds difficult but not impossible.” His thoughts filled with ideas about appropriate arm-twists of John Lorenzi, Portland, Akron and Montreal. “The 99 Gods situation has to be resolved, or at least quiet down.”
“If the Troubles don’t quiet down soon, there might not even be a United Nations left to be an ambassador to,” Nessa said. “I’ll end up being a bit squirrelly. Part dolphin in my mind.”
“I think you’re part dolphin already.”
“I may have to learn to spread my mind out among several humans,” Nessa said, thinking again about her telepathy network scheme. “That might make me too difficult to live with.”
“Uh, Nessa. Socks?”
“As in I’m already that difficult? I suppose.”
They turned into the hotel. Five paces inside, Nessa stopped and sniffed.
“Nessa?”
“Wait just a second here.” She sniffed again and turned to the bodyguards. “Set up watches for tonight so that as many of you are rested as can be, for tomorrow. The package from Portland’s going to come in tomorrow morning, and we’re going to go visit Nairobi’s real lair immediately afterwards.”
“Oh shit,” Ken said, when he saw where Nessa headed.
99 Gods: Betrayer Page 21
