03. Gods at the Well of Souls (21 page)

"It is quite an amazing fantasy you weave, Gus. You should have quit news and  gone into the cinema." 

"It gets better. You, for one, are there as a member of a race that was one of  the insiders. The Leeming. Somehow, right off, they see you as just the kind of  guy who's perfect for them, but you can create a friendly, human face. All the  power, all the authority-and one job. Just keep Brazil happy and anywhere but  heading north and always where you can find him. I don't know why you didn't  just have him arrested and jailed right off, but I can think of a number of  reasons." 

"For one thing, Nathan Brazil is a legend, a part of mythology, like Odin and  Jupiter back home. Bringing a sufficient number of leaders to the conviction  that he was more than that and that he was a possible threat to the Well World's  very survival takes time. The last is next to impossible, really. No one fears  the repairman; they welcome him. They fear the demolition man, and they fear  their gods. Ironically, Brazil himself tipped the scales on the required  religious conversions merely by surviving what no creature of his makeup should  possibly survive. And the more he recovers, the more nervous they will get. They  will endlessly debate how to enforce any deal or bargain they can make with him,  but who can truly make such demands of a god once that god is on his throne? So  they will keep him locked up. There is your story. One day he may escape, but by  that time they will be long dead." 

"Uh huh. And who had your job with Mavra Chang?" 

"You would not believe me." 

'Try me." 

"The Dillian twins." 

"I don't believe it!" 

"They didn't know anything about the rest, unlike myself. They were just given  an all-expenses paid chance to see the Well World if they would simply make a  few reports on the location and whereabouts of one Mavra Chang as things went  along. They didn't know Chang, and they were made just aware enough that she was  more than she seemed and something of a threat to peace, stability, and order.  Armed with that, it was rather easy to make her miss connections, foul up her  bank accounts, that sort of thing. And unlike the captain, who truly gave me the  slip, she actually contracted with those very forces which wanted her out of the  way to carry her here. It was Brazil we were worried about. We didn't give a  thought to Chang. Now, though, we find that Chang is not here. Somehow she  slipped through our net and into the hands of a minor player about which we know  very little overall but whose mental profile in the records indicates that she  would do almost anything to keep Chang out of anyone's hands but her own." "That still bothers me, Colonel. You know where Campos lives. You could have  gone there at any time and forced her to show you Chang, but you didn't. You  went through all this, which must cost them plenty." 

"It did. It is painful and a real setback," the colonel admitted. "But you still  fail to appreciate both Campos and the man she ingratiated herself with. If one  inkling, one thought that Chang might be another Brazil entered his mind or the  minds of his associates, they would vanish, and Chang with them. The hold they  would have over the entire international organization would be nearly absolute.  Surely you must see that. Chang must never be the object of all this except to  such as we. And when we bust them, headed by fearless and incorruptible  policemen like Inspector Kurdon, even they will have no suspicion until Chang is  in our hands and locked away in Zone next to the captain with the so-pleasant  name." 

"And now you're here finding out exactly what they did to her, what monster they  turned her into, and precisely where she is. And after that, making certain that  nothing in that computer will ever be read by the inspector or anyone else. Tell  me, Colonel-how'd you learn to read that stuff so quickly? And how'd you learn  how to use their computer system? You ain't been here much longer than me." "Long enough, my friend. Besides, we Leeming have more than one way to learn  things. In fact, with certain kinds of races, which make up close to ten percent  of the south's racial makeup, we don't have to do anything more than feed. You  can see by my size that I've been a very gluttonous soldier." 

"You mean you can learn stuff by eating somebody?" Gus was incredulous. The colonel chuckled. "Friend Gus, you are on an impossible world full of  impossible creatures such as the two of us, turned into a big colorful lizard  who can not be seen unless he wants to be, discussing a worldwide takeover  conspiracy for which there remains no proof at all and which you only learned  about because of a hunt for two demigods. And you find my alternative learning  method unbelievable?" 

He had a point there, Gus had to admit. He kept his rifle on the colonel, but he  expected a trick any time now. The colonel hadn't moved, but did he seem  suddenly more like his old self in size? Or was that imagination? "You're a rotten son of a bitch, Colonel," Gus told him. "You had a second  chance here, a real chance of a new life and a fresh start, and you decided to  remain what you were back on Earth. Don Francisco must have paid you pretty  good, too, I suspect." 

"Not nearly enough, but after the return to democracy there were problems for  many of us, and we had to find alternative sources of income to maintain  ourselves and our families in the style to which we had become accustomed. This  is not the same thing. This is the equivalent of military rule, which we imposed  to prevent the communists from dominating our beloved land. In that I followed  orders and remained true to my country. I am doing so again, and I feel that it  is a new start for me. Again I have honor. Again I serve my country and my  people." 

That shimmery SOB was shrinking! Gus shut up and moved back toward the entrance.  It was barely in time; a thin layer of goo rose up and grabbed for him as he  moved. 

Nice try. Colonel. You are better than I gave you credit for, Gus thought,  nervously eyeing his narrow escape. If the colonel had kept him talking just  another thirty seconds, he'd have been history! 

"Gus? Where are you?" 

Ready to take aim on your slimy guts the moment you pull yourself together, you  fat pig, Gus thought, but he remained silent but vigilant. 

"I'm sorry, Gus. I won't make another stab at you," Lunderman assured him.  "Look, no one will believe your story, not even Kurdon. You have no place to go  and no way to act on what you know. You can't win, not against this kind of  power. But you don't have to lose, either. You are a very resourceful man, Gus.  Very resourceful. Just as they found a place for me, they can find one for you.  Anything you want. What have you to look forward to, anyway? You can't go  home-particularly now. You know that yourself. The Dahir church would probably  have you sacrificed to keep from corrupting the rest of the flock. You are both  a man and a creature without a country, Gus. But with your unique talents and  awakening appetites you needn't be an unhappy one." 

I wouldn't be tempted if you were giving me a straight offer, Gus thought, but I  can see your puddly self flowing all around the floor and in between the  consoles, feeling for me even now. 

The colonel had grown large, but not that large. It was relatively simple to  keep out of his way if Gus just paid attention. 

Gus could see a fair amount of him now, but too flattened and too spread out to  make a real target. Still, Kurdon had warned the Leeming that he was vulnerable  to energy weapons, and that happened to be just what Gus had in his cute little  hands. Time for a continuation of Education Day. Gus set the rifle on wide,  aimed at the largest concentration of Leeming he could see, and pulled the  trigger fast and briefly. 

The colonel screamed an unholy scream as part of him fried and vanished. It  suddenly occurred to Gus that this might have been the first real pain Lunderman  had felt since becoming a Leeming. Reflexively, the rest of the amorphous  creature withdrew inward toward the central mass. But where was the central mass  now? Gus wondered. Not at the console. 

Cat and mouse, Colonel? Gus thought. Suits me fine, but I frankly didn't think  you had the guts. 

Lunderman didn't. Suddenly, across the room in one corner, a great mass rushed  upward with tremendous force and speed. It was so fast and so blended against  the dark that Gus was slow to react, and by the time he got off a shot, the  thing had vanished into the ducting above. 

Gus didn't like the fact that the Leeming was around up there somewhere and  nursing both a wound and a grudge, but he could hardly follow that exit. At  least the colonel couldn't see him or anticipate his actions. Even so, the  faster he was out of here, the better, he thought. Still, he had to risk some  communication. "The colonel was working with the gang," Gus reported. "I am in  the computer room. He was in here erasing records. I shot at him but only winged  him. You can't capture him, but he's the only one of his kind here, and he can  be fried. I recommend a shoot on sight, particularly since he eats people by  absorbing them." Suddenly the magnitude of what he'd done hit him. "And get some  people in here really quick," he added. "Lunderman's left the computer turned on  with the damned security already deactivated!" 

The sun had been up for hours when they struggled back to Subar, but all of them  felt it had been worth it. Terry almost cried for joy when Gus came back and ran  to hug him. 

There was no sign of the colonel, but all the entrances and exits were heavily  guarded and it was felt that he was still in there somewhere. 

Inspector Kurdon looked exhausted but generally satisfied. "Sixty-eight of ours  killed or wounded, but at least two hundred of theirs dead and almost a hundred  in custody, and we broke that cancer that has been eating into the soul as well  as the soil of my nation for far too long. It has been a worthy night indeed." "What about the computer? Have your people learned anything?" Gus asked him. "Not as much as we might have had the colonel not gotten in there first but far  more than I think any of them would have wished. What you caught him doing was  unleashing what my computer people call a tapeworm." The term wasn't exact, but  that was the way it got translated to Gus. "A program that goes in and finds and  destroys specific information. A second was ready to load, and a third was found  nearby, but thanks to you only the first was run." 

"Any idea of the nature of the information destroyed? Or is that a ridiculous  question?" Anne Marie asked him. 

"No, it is not altogether ridiculous. We can deduce a little of it, although we  have barely scratched the surface of the thing. It will be months before we get  everything we can out of that data base, and we need to make certain that no one  who does not have the most impeccable honesty gets in there in the meantime. I  do not like it that the colonel is still at large in there, but we do not  believe he could actually operate the computer. Rather, he knew how to run the  tapeworms and where they were stored. In a sense, merely losing what we did is a  fair trade for having the security system opened up. We might have learned far  less over a much longer period had we had to attempt to crack it." "And the erasures?" 

"Oh, sorry. As I say, by deduction. Political names, big regional names, that  sort of thing. We won't get a payoff or politician's listing from that, I'm  afraid." 

"It's bigger than you know," Gus told him. "You wouldn't believe how big. I got  it straight from the colonel." 

Kurdon gave a weary nod. "I believe I know how far this had to have gone just by  looking at its scale and by the sheer number of hexes where deletions were made.  Do not worry, Gus. It wouldn't matter if the entire council was corrupt, as they  probably are in one way or another. This complex and the computer are in Agon.  Agon alone has authority here. And I know who is who in Agon." "What about Lori and Mavra? Any word on them?" Tony asked, concerned over  Julian's report. 

"It is the first minute of the new information age," the inspector said. "Give  us a little time. This is of the highest priority. Get some sleep, all of you!  Even 7 am going to attempt it. By the time we awaken, they will have news,  perhaps very exact news. Then. I believe, we will be on our way on a journey to  the northwest." 

"Clopta!" Gus breathed. "And Campos." Kurdon nodded. "Also by that time I expect  that I will have so many high Cloptan officials terrified of me that I will be  carried to this Campos person on a litter with politicians as bearers." He  smiled, the first time any of them could remember seeing such an expression on  an Agonite. "It was a very good night." 

By late afternoon, when they struggled back to the command center, most still  half-asleep but unable to go any further toward resolving the problem, the  trusted technicians inside the computer room had some answers. "A bird and a unicorn," Inspector Kurdon told them. "Neither are monsters in the  sense of the ones we discovered down in the cells. They are in their own ways  works of art-if, of course, the results proved equal to the computer estimation.  Your friend Lori was something of a compromise, it appears. The original order  was for a grotesque, like what we saw. But when they saw the genetic potential  and also discovered that Campos was just going to make him a courier like the  rest, they had second thoughts. They made the monster part come out early, then  later fade as the real program kicked in. .Campos was apparently furious at the  start but later decided she liked it after all. At least, there's no sign of any  attempts to do worse again." 

"You got this from the computer?" Julian asked him. 

"Not entirely. Our doctor friends seemed to have pulled a very slick vanishing  act in the middle of a cordon I'd have sworn was unbreakable, but their  assistants weren't so fortunate. And the assistants know the medical computer  quite well and helped with all the detail work. With what we got from the  clinic, we were able to go to specific points in the big machine and get  virtually a replay of the entire discussion and debate, almost a step-by-step  explanation and tutorial. They were sick of making monsters. They wanted to make  pretty, living works of art." He reached into a pouch and pulled out a picture.  "Here is what your Lori looks like now."