CHRYSALIS Page 9

  “We don’t know if he’s alive or dead. As to the portal being responsible, it’s possible. I would think likely.”

  “And the transparencies?”

  “An Out-Time, one apparently on a time scale different from our own, and different from that of the young man. Or at least it so appears. A rogue universe, intruding on the space and time of 14LQ638.”

  “Is this intruding Out-Time also the result of the misdirected portal?”

  “The portal was not misdirected, it misarrived.”

  “Sorry. Did the misarrival of the portal cause the Out-Time to intrude?”

  “We don't know. We feel it’s more likely to be coincidence.”

  “And the time scale difference. Is the Out-time faster or slower?”

  “We don't know yet, we're working on it. The picture changes every twenty-two minutes or so. That would indicate it’s slower, but we just don't know. It may be neither slower nor faster, but simply different. We just don't know.”

  “So what’s going to happen?”

  “I don't know that either.”

  “Is the man in danger, presuming he’s still alive?”

  “Very probably. It’s also possible 14LQ638 is in danger. Or it may be the intruding universe is in danger.”

  “Sounds serious. How do you go about finding out who is in danger and who not?”

  “We can do nothing, my friend, until we can see what’s occurring in the Out-Time. The transparencies tell us very little, they’re faint to the point of near invisibility at times, and appear to be a series of still photographs. Until we can resolve the matter of the transparencies, we’ve no way of knowing what’s happening in the Out-Time, or just what it is we may or may not do about it.”

  Juan Marie stood and paced slowly about the tiny office. “Yes, it’s possible,” he said softly at one point, but gave no further indication of what he was thinking.

  Thorstenssen watched him, trying to place himself inside that nimble brain, something he often tried to do when Juan Marie sat absorbed over the chessboard. To Thorstenssen it was like watching fine machinery running. He sat silently, waiting, for he knew Juan Marie, for all his languid airs, had a first class mind.

  “Yes,” Juan Marie said finally, favoring Thorstenssen with a radiant smile. “As is often the case, the problem is also the solution. I shall go to Cleveland.”

  24

  Simon felt his muscles tense, felt the blood turn to ice in his veins, felt the rage come boiling up. He rose from his seat, fists clenched. The waiters moved to intervene, but Kosh waved them off.

  “She is all right, I assure you,” Kosh said evenly. “We are civilized people.”

  “If she’s harmed in any way, Kosh,” Simon hissed, “you will pay, and personally, to me.”

  “Please, please,” Kosh admonished. “You have my word. She’s being well taken care of. Nevertheless, you must see the situation from my point of view. I hope logic and common sense and your own best interests will persuade you to join with me in bringing peace to the world. I confess I desire this alliance with such fervor that I’m prepared to be ungentlemanly, and use the presence of your lady to my advantage, should that be necessary.”

  “Kosh, only a fiend would use a helpless woman for advantage.”

  “Hardly helpless,” Kosh smiled. “It took three of my best pilots to capture her. Nevertheless, she is here, and you are here, and for the moment you are both my guests. Come, I tire of this place. We will be in seclusion, you and I, without guards, without interference of any kind.”

  He rose from the breakfast table and led the way back to the study. “I shall try to convince you,” he said, “I shall present the arguments, present the evidence, and if at any time you feel the urge to kill me, why we shall be alone, and it shall be man against man.”

  “And what happens to Marianna if I succeed?”

  “In that case,” Kosh laughed, “all three of us shall be dead, and Dorothea will have to find a new lover.”

  In the chapel study Kosh bade Simon be seated, while he himself paced the floor, heels clacking on the polished slate, alighting, finally, in front of the tapestry at the far end.

  “Know you, friend Simon,” he began, striking a pose in a shaft of sunlight, “that the world desires peace, and I, Sariot Kosh, desire peace.”

  His fine actor's voice carried into the further reaches of the chapel, much as the fire and brimstone voices of the old Scottish divines must have done, resonating in the upper recesses of the roof beams.

  “Every part of the globe, from pole to pole, from Mongolia to South Africa, from Norway to Cape Horn, has accepted the Federation as its way of life, has accepted the Director as its leader. Every part of the globe, that is, but the western states of the United States. And why? Because they, and you, do not understand the larger issues involved, issues of destiny, of culture, of the preservation of civilization itself.”

  “Strange,” Simon said mildly. “I thought it was about conquest, and aggrandizement, and personal power. I thought it was about naked aggression. I thought we were fighting for freedom, against a murderous despotism.”

  Kosh smiled disarmingly. “I won’t say you’re entirely wrong. No one is entirely wrong, not all the time. We have conquered, where conquest was called for, but only where the Federation was not accepted willingly. There has been aggrandizement, one expects it, human nature being what it is, but it can be kept under control by making examples of the malefactors. As to personal power, I accept the charge. But how else to build a prosperous and peaceful state, one dedicated not only to the advancement and enlightenment of man, but to the will and the word of God? No, my friend, the impeachment will not hold. The Federation is bringing the benefits of western culture and civilization to places where it could not have grown unaided, places of paganism, darkness and ignorance, where neither the word of Plato, nor of Einstein, nor of God had hitherto been heard. And to other places as well, to places and to people who have been shown the light of faith and reason, and who have nonetheless returned to darkness.

  “The Federation is the greatest empire the world has ever seen, my boy,” he said, losing some of his previous fervor, his voice retreating to a more conversational tone. “Greater than Rome, and like Rome the Federation has universal citizenship, so that people living in grass huts in darkest Africa or in felt yurts on the high Mongolian plateau feel a kinship with each other, for they know they are equal members of a larger, richer and yes, a more God-like society. This is not about conquest, dear Simon, it’s about achieving the purpose of the Creator, a Creator who quite deliberately set one group of humans above all the others, for the purpose, I believe, of leading the others to God!”

  “I gather the chosen group is white of skin and blue of eye,” Simon said carefully, for this was not totally unexpected. There had been hints of religious fervor over the years, but most observers ascribed cynical motives to Kosh's sometime religiosity, believing it to be an actor's cover message. Simon had heard these words, or similar words, before. He too had dismissed them as an actor's words for an actor's audience, but he was no longer so certain, not after seeing the obvious sincerity of the religious feelings Kosh was now displaying.

  “I’m asking you to join me on crusade,” Kosh said. “A secular crusade to bring western civilization to the world, and a religious crusade to reestablish the faith. Christendom, my boy! What a magnificent word! A word that includes faith in God and faith in Man! A word that includes Art and Science, culture and religion! There isn’t another word in all of earth's languages that encompasses so much diversity, so much good, as the one word Christendom!”

  “You surprise me, Director,” Simon said. “I would not have thought you harbored such intense beliefs.”

  “One cannot play a role without also believing it, my friend.”

  “I suppose not. Still, there are those who prefer their own beliefs.”

  Kosh waved a hand, brushing such objections aside. “There are people w
ho live in ignorance of medicine, but do they not deserve to be healed? There are people who live in ignorance of art, but do they not deserve to be uplifted? Consider, Simon! When the nineteenth century missionaries reached black Africa, the entire sub-Saharan continent was no further along than the Stone Age. Metalworking was virtually non-existent, cities were as yet undreamed. The inhabitants had no sense of belonging to any social structure larger than the tribe. The continent was, and still is, rife with warfare and tribal genocide. The Chinese cannot feed themselves, the people of India have a shorter life expectancy than many of their animals! Mexico, the entirety of Latin America, are approaching catastrophe!

  “Look at the world, Simon! People on the move, fleeing from one despot to another, refugees in their millions, dying in their thousands, in their tens of thousands. The children, Simon! You’ve seen the pictures, the bloated bellies, the crying mothers, too sick and weak themselves to give milk to their babies! Do not these suffering people, and others like them throughout the world, deserve to be brought into an advanced state of society? That is all the Federation is doing, bringing western civilization, western thought, western culture, western faith, to those who have been denied them. We have barely begun. We have willingly taken on an immense endeavor, one requiring every ounce of strength we possess, every resource we own. Every dollar we spend fighting Tal Avenger, every erg of energy we dissipate in fighting Tal Avenger, is one less dollar, one less erg of energy, that’s available to complete our great work. And so I offer you comradeship, nay, more, for I’m serious about my offer. I will adopt Tal Avenger as my son and make him my political and financial heir, should you accept my proposal to join forces, stop this senseless fighting between like people, and concentrate on bringing peace and stability to a deserving world.”

  “There is no peace, Kosh,” Simon said harshly, “and no stability, because it’s you who have decreed there be no peace. Yes, there are refugees fleeing despotism, crowding the roads, dying in their thousands, but it’s your despotism they’re fleeing. You’re losing, Kosh, you cannot hold onto your empire, it’s coming apart, as all empires come apart. Savagery and repression cannot hold people down forever. I’d have thought even you would understand that, for it’s the verdict of history.”

  Kosh was silent for a moment, and when he spoke it was with a soft voice and a serious face. “You’re right, of course,” he said conversationally. “The empire is breaking up, more and more of my attention is taken with putting down rebellion. Empires cannot be held together with force, not for long, anyway, as you so rightly point out. But they can be kept together with faith, with ideas, with a shared, common purpose. I tried to impose a faith, a unifying faith, Christianity, without success, no matter how many people were put to the sword in its name. When that failed, I tried to combine faith with ideas, the concept of Christendom, the union of faith and western culture, but this too has not taken root, though I believe that with your help it could succeed.”

  Impassive, ramrod straight, Kosh said wearily, “And now it’s all coming apart, though it will be many years and many deaths before disintegration is complete. But constant struggle was never my intent. I wish with all my heart to preside over a beneficent empire, one at peace, tranquil and prosperous, and to do that I’m prepared to share our separate dreams to ensure our common goal. I’m correct, am I not, that a peaceful world is the goal of Tal Avenger?”

  “Peaceful, yes, but also free.”

  “Peace and freedom are essentially incompatible, friend Simon,” Kosh smiled. “Freedom must be fought for, and constantly defended. That’s also the verdict of history. Faith has failed, and ideas have failed. I’m now prepared to try the third, a shared and common purpose. That shared and common purpose is embodied in the spirit and message of Tal Avenger. You’re revered throughout the world as a fighter for the right, a fighter for good, while I am thoroughly misunderstood, my motives suspected or rejected out of hand. I need Tal Avenger to assume the shared leadership of the Federation, for I’ve no doubt such is your power and respect that insurrection and rebellion will instantly cease, and tranquility descend upon the land.”

  “I’ve never thought of myself as a figurehead, Kosh,” Simon said shortly. “There will be peace, and it will come when the Federation is destroyed. And on that day the world will finally be free. I hope I will be the instrument of your destruction, but if that is not to be, others will take my place. A free man will not trade his freedom for the peace of the despot, Kosh, for the peace of the despot is indistinguishable from the peace of the grave.”

  “Ah, my friend,” Kosh said, his voice reflecting his distress, “to so completely misunderstand the world, to so completely misunderstand the nobility of my intentions. You can bring peace with a word, stop the killing with a gesture! And you will not, in the mistaken belief that an abstraction called freedom is clearly preferable to a peaceful and prosperous society. Most men would choose peace and prosperity, and that too is the verdict of history. Consider what I’ve said, consider it carefully, for events march, and the offer will not be valid into the indefinite future. You will join Ellysia and me for dinner tonight. I’m sure we can find a suitable dinner jacket for you. In the meantime, use the day to think about what I’ve said.”

  “And if I still refuse?”

  “Then I shall ask until I’m satisfied you will not accept.”

  “If I’m killed, the war will continue.”

  “I know. That’s why you’re still alive. I need you, the Federation needs you, the people of a mortally wounded earth need you. Everything that went before, the capture of the hound, the burial of Gaeton Thon, was designed to bring you here, unharmed, so that our case may be presented to you, fairly and objectively, in hope of persuading you.”

  “You aren’t the first to have mad dreams, Kosh,” Simon said evenly. “Bigger men and madder men have dreamed of empire, and they all thought as you, that mankind was indifferent to its condition, so long as it had bread, and maybe circuses. But they were wrong, and you’re wrong. We will fight, those of us who believe in freedom, and we shall never give up.”

  He walked to the door, pausing to look back at Kosh and grin. “But it was a damn fine performance, and no doubt well received by the critics. Nonetheless, I shall not be persuaded.”

  “We shall see,” Kosh smiled in return. “The day is very young.”

  25

  He hadn’t been in his room for very long when there came a light tapping at the door. Wondering, for guards do not tap lightly, he opened it, finding, to his surprise, it was unlocked. She was not exactly beautiful, but she was striking, and to Simon she too seemed somehow familiar. He stared for some moments at a face framed in a halo of hair so blond it was almost silver, quite forgetting himself, until she arched a coal black eyebrow and said, “May I come in?”

  “Forgive me,” he stammered, opening the door wide and standing clear. She passed him close by, almost touching, and he could feel the hairs on his arms rise, as if charged with static electricity. She was dressed in a two-piece casual looking outfit, short sleeve blue blouse and silver, form fitting spandex stretch pants.

  He left the door slightly ajar, not trusting it to remain unlocked, and fairly certain it might be awkward to be trapped in a locked room with his shimmering, and from the looks of her, well-connected visitor. She stood in the middle of the room and looked around appraisingly, a slight smile parting her lips.

  “Not bad, considering,” she said, favoring Simon with a dazzling smile. “Good morning. I’m Ellysia Kosh. I’ll not take much of your time. I’ve come to ask a favor.”

  “I’ll grant it, if I can.”

  She hesitated. “This is very difficult, Mr. Pure,” she said softly, fixing him with astonishingly violet eyes. “I wish to strike a bargain with you. I’ll help you escape if you’ll take my husband's mistress with you.”

  Stunned, it was his turn to hesitate. In the space of time it took to look away from her and back, his brain did sev
eral million calculations, looked in thousands upon thousands of file drawers, pulled out pictures of everyone he knew or ever met, and examined them from every conceivable angle, trying to match the face he saw before him. As with Kosh, each individual feature was slightly different from the pictures on file, but the overall impression was clear and unmistakable. He knew her from somewhere.

  “It’s not as simple as that, madam,” he said. “Three of my crew are here as well. I won’t leave without them.”

  “I understand.” She placed a long fingernail between her teeth, brow furrowed in concentration. “All right,” she said, coming quickly to a decision, “your three crewmembers as well.”

  “Please sit down, Mrs. Kosh,” he said, “this is going to take longer than you anticipated.”

  She sat on the bed, and Simon leaned against the edge of the dresser.

  “You must’ve worked it out,” he said. “Just how do you propose to get us out of here?”

  “Well, I didn't know there would be so many of you. But I imagine even that can be overcome. After all, if Dorothea wants to go with you, there isn't much anyone can do about it.”

  “Is Dorothea the mistress? The medusa?”

  “Yes. Horrible, isn't it? But then, she’s the source of much of my husband's power, and he feels he needs her. Sometimes I think he needs her more than me.”

  “I have a couple of questions, Mrs. Kosh. First, why would the medusa want to go with me, and why do you want her to?”

  “The first question is difficult, Mr. Pure. I don’t know that Dorothea wants to leave, with you or anyone else. I’m hoping you’ll be able to persuade her. And failing persuasion, it has occurred to me that together, you and I might be able to remove her forcibly. As to the second, I want her to go because my husband is finding it more and more difficult to do without her. He is constantly with her, his protestations to the contrary, and each occasion with her leaves him further drained and depleted. He is losing his health, and I fear his sanity, for it cannot be a wholesome relationship.”