The Third Claw of God

by Adam-Troy Castro

  But I’m also Andrea Cort, and not blind.

  Even as I howled, part of me was picking it apart.

  Sometime ten or twenty minutes after it all came back to me, we had returned to the stone table and I was sitting opposite her again, my eyes burning but my mind working at full capacity again. The furry white thing that lived on the balcony had decided that I was its friend, or at least its pleasure slave, and was now curled up on my lap, vibrating with pleasure; my usual impulse would have been to kick it off but I stroked it anyway as I sipped the sweet juice Jelaine had gotten me. “And am I supposed to believe that this is just about family? And nothing else?”

  She spread her hands. “It can be about as little or as much as you want it to be.”

  “Why didn’t the Family ever reclaim me before?”

  “Because that’s never been the way things were done before. Because Bettelhines who leave the corporation or allow themselves to be exiled for cause have historically never been trusted again. Offspring born to exiles are sometimes repatriated, if they have a case, but they’ve never been allowed to become Inner Family in status again, even by marriage. The risks of subversion have always been deemed too great.”

  I took another sip of my juice. “So where does that leave me?”

  “You?…were a special case. You were notorious. Your loving Corps”—she filled the word with special contempt—“knew who you were and did everything they could to enhance your notoriety, just so they could hold you over my father and grandfather’s generations.”

  “That’s all I was? A blackmail tool?”

  “Somewhat short of a doomsday weapon. Our family’s well used to being hated, and could have weathered the scandal had your identity ever been revealed. But threats to reveal your lineage could still sway certain issues of contention a few precious points toward Dip Corps advantage. And that grew even more of a factor once you embarked upon your diplomatic career and became an even more divisive figure among the other major powers. Overall it became easier, for the small number of Inner Family leaders of these past two generations who knew who you were, to let you be and just let smaller issues slide.”

  I was still sure I discerned an ulterior motive. “And that’s why you’re trying to get me back now? To neutralize my effectiveness as a political lever?”

  “No, Andrea, that’s the way my grandfather might have seen it. Or even my father, once upon a time. But you haven’t been an effective political lever in some time. Most of the new generation coming up now still has no idea who you are. Philip, for one, didn’t know who you were until we were all back on Xana and Jason took him aside to tell him. I wish you could have seen the expression on his face.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re just being sentimental.”

  “If you think that’s not a factor, you’re wrong. Aunt Lillian was exiled before either of the singles Jason and Jelaine were born, but I have researched her case and believe it a miscarriage of family justice. There was never any need to deprive her of her birthright. Or, by extension, yours.”

  Damn it, she seemed sincere. And I could not afford tears again. “But that’s not all of it. That can’t be all of it. I’m not that important.”

  “You are, actually, but you’re right. That’s not all of it. I suppose that to understand it all you need to start with Jason’s experiences on Deriflys.”

  “What happened?”

  The pain of Jason’s early life now showed on his sister’s beautiful face, not as an experience she’d heard about at a remove, but as one she could now remember herself, with a pain capable of burning her. “I’ve already given you an idea how bad it was there. Now multiply your worst perception of that world’s brutality by a factor of ten. Jason lived like an animal. There were times he had to sell himself, times he had to kill or be killed, times he was no better than a slave, and times he had to give up every shred of his dignity just to avoid starving. When the AIsource pulled him out of there—”

  I sat up a little straighter. “The AIsource?”

  “Yes,” she said, with defiant calm. “They sent a force into Deriflys to pull out somebody else they wanted, a brave, special girl named Harille. They had important plans for her, but Harille wouldn’t go with them unless they also rescued the boy who had loved her and protected her and kept her alive even when it might have made more sense for both of them to just lie down and die.” Jelaine’s eyes turned wistful. “It’s amazing how much love a boy like the single Jason can feel when he’s lost everything and only his ability to feel concern for another person is left, or how much a girl like Harille, who never quite loved him back, can still appreciate all he’s done for her. She gave them no choice.”

  I asked, “What happened to her?”

  “The last time Jason saw her, aboard the AIsource vessel that pulled them off Deriflys, she was dying. And that, Counselor, is the real reason he was so shattered when he came back to Xana. Harille had kept him sane, and now he couldn’t even know whether she’d survived.”

  “And this is why the singlet Jelaine went away with him?”

  “Yes. Everybody was told it was a goodwill tour. But in truth none of the other worlds the singles Jason and Jelaine visited during the tour mattered at all. It was all about finding out whether Harille was alive or dead.”

  “Was she?”

  “Neither. She wasn’t exactly Harille anymore.” There was another flash of sadness, mixed with something else I could not identify—Anger? Amusement? Awe? “Let’s just say that she was beyond Jason’s reach.”

  There was a moment of silence. “And all this—”

  “All this,” she finished for me, “left the singles Jason and Jelaine at loose ends about what to do next. Jason hadn’t found closure. Jelaine had spent months listening to his stories and had begun to join him in rejecting the Bettelhine system. Both started focusing on Deriflys again, considering how many places like it suffer not because things fall apart but because the Bettelhine Family business provides them with the means to blow themselves apart. The singles realized that they could not return to Xana as happy little aristocrats content to continue profiting from the misery the Bettelhines always left behind.

  “They also knew that there was no possibility of bringing about change, not with Jason considered unstable, Jelaine less major corporate force than family princess, and their conservative half brother Philip already being groomed for the top slot. But they couldn’t walk away from Xana and accept exile either, not when the feelings of helplessness were likely to destroy Jason all over again. So they decided to take extreme action. They decided to tool themselves for a silent coup. And so they contacted the AIsource and applied for cylinking.”

  This brought up a point that had bothered me since the moment I’d first figured out what they were. “I learned when I hooked up with the Porrinyards that all linked pairs become AIsource agents.”

  “I could have too,” she said, “but the agenda I proposed was so audacious that the AIsource were satisfied to just sit back and see how well I did. And as you know, I did very well. Jason returned a new man, mature and focused, ready for any lower corporate position the Family was still willing to provide him. Jelaine returned a more serious girl, eager to dedicate herself to upper management. There were no obvious signs of collusion between them. But in truth, the two supposed individuals were doing everything they could to regain my father’s confidence so they could go to him with the plan and start working together again. That took even less time than I’d budgeted. Within a year my star was rising.”

  Flailing, aware that something was terribly wrong but unaware what it could be, I settled for strict chronological order. “How did the Khaajiir enter the picture?”

  “Our researches led to him and one of his books about the peaceful transition of power following the K’cenhowten Reign of Terror. He wrote that changes radical enough to change the entire structure of a society could only be peaceful when the people responsible, in K’cenhowten’s case the
Khaajiirel, used the same tools tyrants use for mass repression as instruments of more limited and more subtle duress. He said that a sculptor’s chisel, applied to the right place by the right hand, can create great artifacts of lasting beauty whereas a powerful bomb dropped from the air can only create useless rubble. He had some ideas how the Khaajiirel managed it—mostly by careful plotting and the long-term manipulation of a few key people—and he was therefore invaluable when it came to plotting the various subtle strategies we needed to bring about our peaceful alterations in the Bettelhine landscape. With our sponsorship, he became my father’s number one advisor, and a key planner instrumental in making certain that the transfer of power remained peaceful.”

  I remained uneasy. The same reason I’d sensed before was still beyond my reach, but had magnified, like a tsunami growing in the last few seconds before it strikes shore. “I can’t say much for his level of success.”

  More sadness. “Yes. I know it looks that way. But then I knew I was entering a very critical phase, the riskiest in fact. The Khaajiir had warned us to expect some resistance and I was surprised only by its timing and lethality. He’ll be missed, both as an asset and as a friend. I’m hoping that you can help fill his shoes.”

  I refused to be sidetracked. “How did I come into it?”

  “Well, as you know, the Khaajiir already had an interest in you. He had researched the backgrounds of every member of your doomed colony, suspected he knew who your mother really was, and was able to bring your predicament to my attention. Consultation with my father, who knew about you, confirmed that the Khaajiir was correct.” She smiled and took another sip of her juice. “I was delighted, and not just because I admired Aunt Lillian and considered Family Exile one of the corrupt practices I hoped to abolish. Consider: You’re brilliant. You’re principled. You’re already well accustomed to working with linked pairs. You have no strings. You only work for the Dip Corps because you have nowhere else to go, not because you have any reason to feel grateful for the shitty way they’ve treated you over the years. You’d be even more likely to turn your back on them if I let you know about their vested interest in making sure that you remain miserable and without options. All of this was obvious, before I asked the AIsource their own opinion of you and found out that you’d defected to them already. It’s like a marriage made in heaven, Andrea. If returned to your family, to us, you’d be the best ally we could possibly have. And the great thing is, you’ve already proved that, with everything you did on the Royal Carriage!”

  So that was why they’d been so delighted by my performance, when I demanded the right to pursue an investigation, and followed it all to the conclusion. It wasn’t just pride in me, though, that had been part of it. It had also been, if only by accident, a job interview of sorts. I bristled. “I haven’t said that I’m interested in joining your coup.”

  “You’re right about that, and I admit, it’s an awfully audacious assumption on my part.” She dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “Pie in the sky. I think you’ll want to if you give the matter sufficient consideration, given your disapproval of everything our family’s stood for until now, and how much you know Mankind will benefit if we succeed. But your level of involvement in our agenda doesn’t affect the other important decision you’re being asked to make. As I’ve told you, acquiring a potentially valuable ally was only part of my motivation. Even if you want nothing whatsoever to do with my plans, something I recognized as a possibility from the very beginning, I’d be just as happy for you if you preferred to settle down here and claim everything else that being a Bettelhine can offer. Think about it. The income deposited in your personal account just because you’ve been our honored guest for a little more than a week is already several orders of magnitude greater than the total you could have expected in a lifetime of toiling for the Corps. If you stay, you can be my guest here or at Jason’s until you’re settled, or you may claim one of several vacant Inner Family Estates in any climate you prefer, staffed by as many retainers as you need. Once you’re comfortable you can use the power and wealth and influence that is yours by inheritance to pursue any philantropic goal near to your heart. You can travel anywhere you want to go, on-or offworld. And most importantly, you can explore all of these options among people who are practically begging for a chance to consider you family, and love you, rather than return to New London and go back to a Corps you’ve already betrayed and which is staffed by people with a vested interest in keeping you a target of mass hatred. Don’t you see, Andrea? We’re offering you happiness and freedom.”

  “Paid for,” I said, “with misery and war and hate and mind control. Which are exactly what drove my mother away in the first place.”

  She was not deterred. “Jason too. And again, since those are all things I’m dedicated to changing about the way our family does business, you have all the more reason for wanting to stay and help if you can—Come on, Andrea. Ten years from now our family’s business ethic will be unrecognizable, and our contribution to human civilization entirely beneficial. How can you walk away from that?”

  I had no doubts now. I believed her. Them. I believed that Jason and Jelaine were sincere idealists, meaning well not only for me but also for this world the Family had built. I believed that they may have made some mistakes along the way, but they were also a legitimate hope for a better tomorrow. I also believed that if I stayed here as they proposed, I could have the life they offered, complete with their kinship, a gift that I now found I craved as much as I’d craved nothing else.

  Against that I had Dejah’s warning, my own nagging sensation that I’d missed something, and the mysterious retreat of the Porrinyards, who had against all prior habit abandoned me to make this decision alone.

  Remember who you are.

  I also thought of something a very wise man had once said to me, many years ago. “The Devil never tempts you with a bad offer.”

  Pushing the now-dozing creature from my lap, so I could lean close, I said, “I’m not ready to say yes or no. But one last question, for the moment. Back on the Royal Carriage, you kept refusing to explain any of this until I heard it from your father’s lips. You just did a fine job telling me everything all by yourself. Why was it so important to wait?”

  She gave a little half-smile as the creature ousted from my affections leaped up on the table in front of her to demand its tribute. Scratching it under the chin, she said, “My father always regretted what happened to his sister. When he sent the invitation he told us he wanted to tell you that face-to-face. He had the chance a few days ago, when we introduced him to you for the first time, the same conversation where he asked you if he could see you with long hair. I’m sorry you can’t remember, but he wept. Just as much as he wept on that day when Jason came home from Deriflys.” Dammit, there went the tear ducts again.

  She stood, eliciting a sad protest from the furry thing, and spent a moment watching as another dekarsi flitted past the balcony. The light of the sun, now just a blood-red sliver sinking beneath the mountains on the horizon, gave her face a warm glow, making me realize something that I should have seen the first time I laid eyes on her. Her profile looked like mine. “Meanwhile, everything else is going well. My people are dismantling the countermeasures put in place by Vernon Wethers. I’ve gained control of his projects and put them in the hands of somebody I trust. Monday Brown’s on board. Jason’s out with Philip, who we’ve left alone up until now but who needed to be brought into the loop now that he knows what I am. There’s every sign of him seeing reason. The doctors say you’re well enough to travel, which I hope means you’ll agree to join Father, Philip, and me—‘me’ meaning both of my bodies, in this case—for a friendly family dinner at Main Estate. We have a lot to catch up on.”

  B efore Jelaine left so I could shower I insisted on being shown to my satchel, which had been segregated in a separate closet as if out of fear that the grubby detritus of my pre-Bettelhine life might somehow contaminate the finery of my
existence among the exalted.

  I’d forgo the usual severe black suit and dress like the locals this one time, but I’d be damned if I was going to go anywhere without my spare Dip Corps insignia unless I was the one who decided that it was no longer a part of my life.

  After the shower, which was steaming and luxurious and scented and wet and everything that the dry pulsed sonics I was used to at home were not, came the nightmare of picking out something to wear. I was accustomed to donning variations of the same black suit every day to remove the necessity of that choice from my daily life. But Jelaine had advised me that this would be off-putting on a family occasion, so I let her pick an appropriate outfit out of all the others that now belonged to me: a ridiculous, asymmetrical, but important-looking thing with flared shoulders, one bared arm and one padded wrist-length sleeve. I considered myself lucky that the same strategy hadn’t been applied to the pants, which were so loose-fitting that they brushed my legs as I wanted, but at least covered both to an equal length. The entire getup had golden buttons that didn’t fasten to anything and false pockets that didn’t seem intended to carry anything. Don’t get me started on the shoes. I’ve never understood why any woman would subject herself to the discomfort of elevated heels unless she was ashamed of her height or being tortured for state secrets, but Jelaine assured me that the pair she’d picked out for me went with everything else and I acquiesed out of sheer sensory overload.

  The skimmer flight to Main Estate at about eight hundred kilometers away, a thirty-minute trip, was another issue. I’ve never liked heights or planets in general all that much, but Jelaine kept pointing out landmarks of interest along the way, from the snowy mountain range she identified as Xana’s tallest and most treacherous to the verdant rain forest that took over as the land became a vast plain only twenty seconds of flight time away. She pointed out half a dozen smaller estates, some of them perched in improbable places that seemed unforgivably harsh choices for a family whose members got to decide what they saw when they looked out their windows every morning; there was, for instance, a desert about as topographically interesting as a bootprint occupied by some addled Bettelhine who insisted on subjecting himself and his fifty retainers to life in canvas tents. Still, I began to see what Jelaine meant when she said that I could claim an estate in any ecosystem I desired. I found myself wondering whether Xana had an orbital wheelworld or undersea facility, thinking that I’d take corridors and canned air if it could be all mine.