After sitting Pendergastman said, “Major, I’m very sorry you had to go through this.”
Brett refrained from saying that Pendergastman wasn’t nearly as sorry as Brett. “Yes sir.”
The general went on. “I’m only going to ask once more. Will you agree to testify before the Grand Council?”
Of course he would. Not worth mentioning, since they both knew the General wanted him to lie to them, and would have his brain scanned before releasing him.
Brett shook his head, lest a refusal to answer entirely anger the General further to no purpose.
“As disappointed as I am, I still want you to return to the planet’s surface. I believe your reports may still be of some value to us, but I’m really hoping you will regain some of the memories that have been buried.”
Did the general still believe that? Did he pretend to in order to salve his own conscience, or to fool Brett into … what?”
Then new hope crashed over him, like a warm Ocean wave splashing over the head of a confident swimmer. Once away from the Firestorm, he could do anything. He could ask for asylum. He could say, “I’m pretty convinced the overmind isn’t gonna eat me, but even if it does I still prefer that to being tortured by my employers, and this Questron stuff kind of eats your brain anyhow.”
He would have to leave soon, because the Questron would make a brain scan unreliable while still in his system. There was a scientific name for that effect. Oh yeah, ‘brain all fucked up.’
The general gestured to the two MP’s standing behind him. “These gentlemen will help you put your uniform back on.”
Brett envisioned some cruel trick, but in fact he was unable to dress himself. They could do anything they wanted, and if he didn’t cooperate with one form of humiliation, try another.
“Yes sir,” he replied as firmly as he could, and attempted to get to his feet. One of the MP’s helped him, not too roughly.
Pendergastman said, “The optimum launch window for the shuttle is in about three hours. You should be a lot better by then.”
An almost familiar noise woke Brett, followed by an unbearably bright red light. No, that must be the sunlight shining through his closed eyelids. Brett tried to struggle to his feet, experiencing a moment of panic before he remembered the safety harness.
A young voice said, “Sir, you don’t have to get up just yet. I wish you and the General hadn’t insisted on your returning today.”
Brett started to take a deep breath, stopped when he began to feel a cough reflex. He didn’t think he was that ill. He certainly hadn’t wanted to eat while still sick from the drugs. It hadn’t seemed like a good idea right before flight. So now he was weak, though he didn’t feel quite hungry. Maybe traces of some drugs were still in his bloodstream.
Why couldn’t he move? Oh. Brett unsnapped the harness with an effort. He couldn’t quite focus. For some reason standing up still posed difficulty. Maybe eye trouble or eyes blurred with tears. Nausea and dizziness hit again, and he half sat, half fell, back down.
“Brett! What’s the matter?”
The voice was familiar. Ambassador Williams. Coming to meet the shuttle had been a nice touch, especially considering Williams’ phobia.
Brett croaked, “I’m fine,” but his voice didn’t sound fine at all in his own ears.
Williams spoke again, apparently not to Brett or the pilot. “Can you use that hat to summon an ambulance?”
“Right away Ambassador.”
The young voice again, “You have help on the way? Great, I don’t think my first aid certification covers this.”
Great. This would be embarrassing when they saw he was only a little dizzy. Brett collected himself to begin explaining.
“And will you find a way of notifying an important Neuron named Ariel Lilac who knows Brett personally? She should know how to get everything ready at whatever VIP hospital he’s going to, and she may want to meet him there.”
Brett objected, “You’re not my mother, stop it.”
Nobody responded, perhaps because his voice wasn’t all that loud or clear.
Brett flashed back momentarily to the confrontation with his own fears, and the past that had made him who he was. It had been a long time since he had thought of his mother.
He opened his eyes. Had he blacked out a moment? Were they really getting ready to remove him from the cockpit in a stretcher? That was silly, but he wouldn’t mind being carried a few minutes. He closed his eyes for another moment.
Brett heard Ariel’s voice. “He’s waking up.”
How did she know? Did Ariel see Brett’s vital signs hovering over his body, as if he were hooked up to virtual monitoring equipment?
He didn’t open his eyes yet. A strange male voice said, “Are you sure he’s going to want visitors? Will all four of us be too much for him? Maybe Callie and I should come back some other time.”
The name Callie was familiar. Brett had worked with her as part of the hive mind.
Ariel’s voice. “I promise you he’s not too shy to ask you to leave if he feels like it. Anyway, the doctors say he should be feeling a lot better, though they want to keep him a few days. He slept nine hours, his blood sugar is a lot higher now, and most of the drugs have been washed out of his system. I think it will give him a boost to know so many people are concerned about him, though I didn’t let anyone else who knows him only through the hive mind come right now.”
Then she addressed Brett. “You can stop pretending to be asleep now.”
Brett opened his eyes. Ariel and Williams were seated on chairs next to his bed. Williams said, “You look a lot better.”
“Much better. Thanks.”
Brett focused his gaze on Williams. “You could use a few hours sleep.”
Williams grinned. “How kind of you to say so. Same old Brett. We were worried about you.”
Brett replied in the same fashion. “I apologize for not being more unpleasant the past few months. You could have not cared and slept peacefully.”
It felt good to be home. The implications of the thought startled him for a moment, but he didn’t flinch from them. The Federalist Worlds had betrayed him. If he were within reach of the authorities and expressed such a view, a court martial board would speedily remind him that he had taken an oath to the Space Force, but the Space Force had taken no oath to him. As far as his own conscience went though, any obligations he had were paid in full.
He had been trained to withstand torture by an enemy, and hoped he could have withstood more than this – if it were from an enemy. He liked to think it was not his courage that had been used up, but his loyalty. On balance, he still believed the Federalist Worlds and the Space Force had still done more good than harm in history, but he no longer felt personally bound to obey orders he disagreed with if he could get away with not doing so, or was willing to pay the price.
Williams gestured in the direction of two chairs behind him and Ariel. “These people think they know you. Want us to get rid of them?”
One of the chairs was occupied by a man in his sixties, whose hard muscular build contrasted with his white hair. Had Brett met him before? Not in person, but he had seen images of Rock once or twice while part of Oceania. If he had been part of the supermind all those decades, he had to be at least a hundred. Brett had been misled again by Oceanian aging rates.
“Hello Rock, thanks for coming.”
“Good to see you feeling better.”
The woman next to him was his wife. “Thank you for coming, Callie.”
She smiled. “I’m happy to hear you’ll be in good shape after a little rest.”
Brett spoke softly. “Oddly enough, it seems they want me to become part of the overmind again after all.”
Ariel raised her voice. “You’re not seriously thinking of going back to them, are you? Are you crazy?”
Despite his condition Brett smiled, a little wan, but a genuine smile. He said, “I am as stubborn as a mule, but not stubborner. That part of my
life is over. I just think it’s a little too convenient. They prove they don’t trust me, then send me back to continue my investigation anyway.”
Ariel frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Williams pointed out the connection which Brett was pretty sure Ariel deliberately refused to make. “Since he won’t testify before the Grand Council that Oceania steals people’s individuality, they want him to turn into living proof.”
So the Ambassador had successfully decoded whatever distorted rumors had reached him. He might even understand Brett’s decision. He nodded. “Just so.”
He was pleased to see how calmly Williams took the implication. Probably Williams had been the one who helped them figure out what had happened to him.
Ariel replied, “Who cares? That part is fine. You’re not actually thinking of going back, are you?”
“That depends on why they sent me. It would be pretty natural for me to defect now, wouldn’t you say? Perhaps they would find it convenient to have proof that the overmind had absorbed a notorious critic.”
Ariel replied too loudly for the small room. “I don’t care. They’re going to fight us anyway! I have you and I’m keeping you!”
Brett smiled and squeezed her hand. “It’s worthwhile to deny the enemy anything they seem to want.”
Then he said ironically, “You realize I’m only referring to the Space Force that way because I’ve been instructed to function as part of the overmind to the greatest extent possible.”
Ariel shook her head violently, lashing her hair around the room. “Never mind that. You know it would be insane to return to them, I just need you to tell me you won’t so I can sleep in peace.”
Brett replied gently, “We don’t know how much internal dissension the lack of a causus bellici will bring them. It might be enough that they would abandon a long and bloody war in the middle.”
The shift into the word ‘them’ was surprisingly easy. The scent of the paranoid fear that had infused General Pendergastman’s thinking had been ugly and it seemed unlikely he had been put into place by people who didn’t know who and what he was. Brett had been tortured. And he was becoming more and more certain the Senator and his ilk wanted to use him, not as an officer, but as a patsy.
Brett saw the unhappiness on Ariel’s face, but the conclusion was unavoidable. He continued. “How could they torture me, then send me back to continue doing my job as if nothing had happened? This has to be what they want. And we already know the reason for it.
“Ariel, I like me too, but you’ve never seen war. There’s going to be a time when you realize I’m not worth millions of lives. You haven’t even asked your government if they would give me asylum yet. But don’t bother. I wouldn’t take it. You would be surprised how quickly they got tired of me – and you for standing up for me.”
Ariel frowned. “You’re not returning to orbit again now are you? That would be suicide!”
Despite everything, Brett felt himself smile. It was a hard, unfamiliar sort of smile. He said, “Heck no. I took an oath as an officer. All this stuff about how they want me to defect is mere speculation on my part. My instructions are to function as part of the overmind and learn as much about it as I can, and I’ll obey them. Where’s my hat?”
Rock and Callie looked at each other and laughed. Callie said, “No. You’re supposed to be resting.”
Brett told her, “I’ve never been good at lying around doing nothing. I thought that might help take my mind off it.”
It was Ariel who replied. “We’ll find something else. Most of what you’ve been doing is strenuous – not physically but mentally. A break would be a good idea now.”
“Well, I’m still part of the overmind even if I can’t use a high bandwidth connection now, right?”
She pressed the back of his hand with her palm. “Always. The Space Force’s loss and our gain.”
Brett grinned. “Oddly enough, there are people overhead who might disagree with that. There are two kinds of officers in the Space Force. The first kind tells their superior officers what they want to hear, hoping for a pat on the back. The second kind brings the news that will make their superiors unhappy, knowing there are plenty of the first kind to report the other stuff.”
There was bemusement in the air, but nobody interrupted to ask why he wanted to talk about this now. So he continued. “I was always the second kind. I always obeyed orders I disagreed with, and I always spoke out strenuously until the orders were actually given, and the decision actually made.”
Rock looked slightly puzzled. “That sounds admirable.”
Brett grinned. “I never made admiral. There were officers who were happy to be rid of me. This wasn’t always good, but I managed to avoid being part of some of the inevitable disasters of projects led by people who never wanted to hear bad news. Oddly enough, sometimes superiors decided I was worth having around.”
Rock asked him, “Do you miss the Space Force? There must have been bad things about it too, right?”
Ariel spoke before Brett could. “I don’t think he’s really talking about the Space Force. He’s telling us what kind of Neuron he intends to be.”
Her lover replied, “Bingo!”
Ariel stood up and leaned over Brett’s bed to hug him, carefully not putting all her weight on his chest. She straightened up and shook her head with mock dismay. “I should have known. Same old Brett. OK, in a few minutes we should probably make you rest whether you like it or not, but first you can tell us how the overmind should be run.”
“Thank you,” Brett said gravely, ignoring the irony.
Then he continued, “If there are still people worried that quantum Joe’s idea of using the supermind in a last ditch attempt to find a way to avert war might trigger it instead, they can forget it. They don’t even worry what it might be considering, and wouldn’t believe you if you told them.”
Ariel shrugged. “That’s not the main reason we don’t do that. You studied Oceanian history while becoming a Neuron.”
He already knew how she felt. You could retain some memory of what people who were part of the overmind believed, as long as it wasn’t private. Brett was probably one of the few men alive to know as much about his paramour’s political and professional beliefs as he thought he did.
He replied, “I guess we can talk about history later, especially if the docs are going to be chasing you out soon. But if it happens, I want to be part of it.”
Ariel looked at him silently.
Brett told her, “I know people will be suspicious under the circumstances. But if I were offering in bad faith, the hive mind would know. And I have more personal knowledge of the Space Force and the Federalist Worlds than almost anyone on this planet.”
Ariel smiled. “So you do. Considering our relationship nobody’s going to leave it up to me, but I can talk to some people.”
He added, “Also Gregory Peterson. The son of Senator Peterson came here a few years ago wanting to become part of the supermind. He didn’t have enough determination to go through with it when he discovered how much work it was going to be, but now it might pay to have people help him out. I think he knows more than he realizes about his father – and where the bodies are buried.”
Callie laughed. “You gonna save this planet all by yourself? Good for you.”
Brett had almost forgotten Williams, Callie, and Rock were still here. They had discretely backed off a few feet, giving him privacy with Ariel. He should thank them for coming and say goodbye now, but he would be alone soon anyway, and it was nice to have visitors.
Ariel asked Brett, “I’m beginning to see why your superiors found you a pain. So big shot, anything else you want to give us advice on? Don’t be shy just because you’re new.”
The tartness of her tone and words contrasted with the gentle way she stroked his brow.
“Well as a matter of fact there was one other thing I keep wondering how to bring up. No matter how many misconceptions I used to hav
e, I gather there are still people who experience being part of the overmind as being part of a … superconsciousness. I’ve learned to do amazing things, but I’ve never experienced that. If quantum Joe’s plan does get a trial, is there any reason I can’t try it now?”
The room fell silent for a minute. Ariel spoke first. “Sometimes the various entities which pay our bills have conflicting priorities. Decisions can come faster if they’re made by a composite individual instead of people who feel obliged to represent their sponsor.”
She had avoided answering his question, obviously enough that Brett felt no need to point it out. Strangely enough, Callie continued the explanation where Ariel had left off. “When people work on something where their personal experience is relevant, a lot of memories might be shared, and sometimes it’s less disorienting to leave memories of being Oceania than personal memories full of holes. It’s still disorienting, and not something I’d recommend for you.”
Of course, Brett’s personal experience with the Space Force and the Federalist Worlds were exactly what was relevant here. Instead of arguing, he looked towards Rock, to see if the tag team explanation would continue.
Sure enough Rock said, “The experience does mean a lot to some people, but remember, you’ve only been doing this a couple of months. With all the useful knowledge you’ve brought, you’re new to the overmind itself. As far as you’ve come, it comes very near to certain fears that Oceanians spend a lifetime being conditioned out of. I’d suggest you wait.”
Brett almost glanced at Williams, but the Ambassador could hardly be expected to contribute to a discussion of the overmind.
Williams cleared his throat. “Brett, do you just think you ought to do this because it might help, or do you actually want to?”
Brett only thought a moment. “I want to.”
Williams asked him, “Why?”
“Partly curiosity – and partly because being part of the supermind has been an awesome thing, and I want to experience all of it. Also though, my mission is to learn as much about the overmind as I can. Of course I no longer trust the people who gave me that mission, and as far as I’m concerned I don’t really work for them anymore, but I’m not going to let little things like that interfere.”
The Ultimate Mystery Thriller Horror Box Set (7 Mystery Thriller Horror Bestsellers) Page 141
