“But you’re telling me,” I said.
“This is on a need-to-know basis—and I very much want you to understand some things, my friend. Bertram’s already told you that Van Vogt”—he pronounced the name Van Vote—“used the word ‘slan’ as a code for what popular culture has mislabeled ‘demons.’ That much is obvious, even to the casual reader. What Bertram has not been trusted with are the many other coded meanings embedded in the text. For example . . .”
There was no way of stopping the commander now.
“. . . consider the tendriled and tendrilless slans in the book. Van
Vogt made the tendrils external, which is excellent melodrama, but does that mean we should be on the alert for people with actual snakelike appendages growing out of their heads?” He laughed dismissively. Oh yeah, how silly. “Only now do we understand that ‘tendrils’ represent the physical structures present in the brains of the GedankenKinder, deformations that human neuroscientists have only recently confirmed. And think about the emphasis in the book on electronic thought broadcasters and receivers, and all the uses of numerical combinations and codes. Once I understood how Van Vogt had sowed the book with clues to the psionic blocking frequencies, it was only a matter of time until I could build our own versions of the Porgrave devices. That helmet you’re wearing—while it’s not quite up to the level of the three-sixty system I use—is more than adequate to block their telepathic scans. And as for ‘possession,’ mental transference in either direction, what Van Vogt called ‘hypnotic control,’ is completely impossible.”
My God, I thought. It’s always the same. One day this guy’s the assistant manager at Home Depot, the next he’s a prophet with a direct line on eternal truth. It didn’t matter if it was John 3:16 or the Kabala or No Money Down Real Estate audio tapes. It all came down to the Book, the Mission, and the absolute fucking Certainty. I tilted my helmeted head toward him. “And you’ve tested these things,” I said skeptically.
“My system has never been penetrated,” he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Not once in the ten years since I discovered the frequencies. It’s our greatest weapon against them, Del.” We went past the washhouse, all the lights behind us now. I’d walked this way earlier, but nothing seemed familiar in the dark. The road ended somewhere ahead of us—it couldn’t be more than fifty yards—at a cabin that had looked vacant to me this afternoon. At least, its eye-stabber door decoration hadn’t had a fish on it. Beyond the cabin was a short pier, and beyond that was nothing but water and forest and a footpath snaking through the trees, roughly skirting the lake. “The field generator accomplishes with technology what you’ve managed to do on your own, by accident. But it’s not perfect. Which brings us to our problem.”
“There’s no problem,” I said earnestly. I didn’t know what this walk in the woods was about, but I did not like being tied up and jerked through the forest like a squealer in a mob film. “The demon’s totally under control.”
“Del, Del.” He chuckled condescendingly. “We know your control’s slipping. Bertram told us all about it. Isn’t that how you two ended up meeting each other in the first place?” He was pleased with this point. “No, your system isn’t working at all.”
“You want to put me in a cage, is that it? Or you want to wire me up like you. That’s the solution Bertram was talking about.”
He shook his head, but I couldn’t make out his expression. It was dark, and the helmet had slid down, obscuring my vision. He gripped the back of my arm and tugged me forward.
“I wish it were that easy. Or rather, that simple. Installing a threesixty system is no trivial matter. It’s painful—I can attest to that—and the chance of infection is very high. But once you’re fully wired, there’s no better defense on the planet. However . . .”
I didn’t like the sound of “however.”
“As good as the three-sixty system is, it’s not secure enough for your needs. Now, most of us, we’re only trying to keep the slans out, whenever they might turn their attention to us. And if they succeeded in psychically seizing me, I’m only one man, a citizen no more important than any member of the league.” He’d delivered the speech before. No doubt the Man of the People thing went over real big with the troops. “But with you, Del, the beast is already inside the cage. Say that we fitted you with the three-sixty system—what if the power supply fails? What if you cut yourself and break the field? These are dangers I constantly live with, but with you, the stakes are much higher. Can we risk letting the beast out? Can we allow the Hellion to ruin the lives of untold children?”
Oh shit.
Bertram was a nut job, but he was my friend, and all this time I’d
been banking on the fact that he wouldn’t go along with something that would do me real harm. But the commander knew that too. So they’d lied to Bertram. And they’d made sure he wasn’t along on our little walk in the woods.
I stopped in the road, head down, fighting a wave of nausea. The men behind us pointed their flashlights at our feet. “You said—you said you weren’t going to—”
“You can’t let fear rule this moment,” the commander said. “I know what you’re going through. I was possessed twice when I was not much older than yourself, and I spent years dealing with the sense of helplessness, the loss of control. You have an opportunity here, an opportunity to change the world. If the GedankenKinder dies in its cage, we’ve removed one of the overlords that rule this planet. We’ve taken a huge step toward freeing mankind.”
“But I can help,” I said. “I can teach you what I do. It’s a skill Dr. Aaron taught me, it’s like a mental firewall—”
The commander was shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Del. We can’t risk it. There’s no other way.”
He was right. There was no other way. I’d known it when I picked up the gun in the cabin. The only difference between me and the commander was that he could pull the trigger. One of the lights illuminating our feet suddenly flicked away. From behind us I heard the snap of a tree branch, and the sound of something heavy crashing through the brush.
I stood up, looked behind us. One of the men behind us was gone. The other man swept the beam of his flashlight across the trees at the edge of the road. “Jared, you okay?” he said. The Human Leaguer in front of us cast around until his beam picked up his colleague behind us. He stared into the light, blinking.
“Sir, I think Jared fell down.”
“Oh for goodness’ sake,” the commander said, disgusted. “Mr. Torrence!” he called. “Back in position! Mr. Torrence!”
There was no answer. The man behind us raked his light over the trees.
Something dark crashed through the bushes farther back. Both flashlight beams swung toward it.
A man in a black helmet stumbled into the road. “Sorry, sir!” he said. “There was a ditch alongside the road I didn’t see, and then I—”
“Never mind,” the commander said. “Just get your light on and catch up.”
The commander fastened a hand on my neck. All the flashlight beams were focused away from me, and I’d glanced toward the trees to my left, judging the odds of losing them with my hands tied behind me . . . but somehow he’d seen the movement and anticipated my plan. “Courage, Del,” the commander said. “You can do this.”
“There’s something I should tell you,” I said. “It’s not safe to be out at this time of night.”