Diamond Star (53 page)

As much as Del wanted to deny it, that fit too well with what he knew about his father's convulsions. "I do feel wound up, especially after a big show," he admitted. "But I can relax by spending time in a virt. Since I started doing that, I haven't had any problems."

"A virt suit shouldn't affect your neurons," Chandler said.

Del regarded him guiltily. "I don't use a suit. My setup has a direct brain interface."

Chandler stiffened. "I assume you have a license for it."

"Yes." Del had insisted. He knew that among his people, any system that acted directly on a psion's brain required a long application procedure and came with many restrictions. Casper, the man who had sold him the bliss-node, had required nothing. He simply gave Del the license--at a huge price. Del hadn't asked for details, legal or otherwise, but he had the paperwork.

"It isn't a good idea to use a virt that way," Chandler said. "It interferes with the way your neurons fire. Yes, it can calm down those overloaded cells, but it could make the problem worse if you aren't careful. You can also become dependent on it, just like anything else that affects brain chemistry."

Del wiped his sweating palms on his jeans. "I can stop any time I want." He wanted it to be true. Yet even now he longed to sink into the node's merciful oblivion.

"Are you on tour now?" Chandler asked.

"Well, no."

"Are you using the node?"

Del stared at him, unwilling to answer. He used it every day, sometimes for hours.

Chandler spoke quietly. "Del, I'd like you to come into my office at the Johns Hopkins Medical Center for more tests."

"I'm fine. I don't need more tests."

"I think you should," Chandler said. "Methods exist to help you deal with performing in front of all those people. But we need to monitor the procedures. If you try to do it yourself, you could end up with brain damage."

Del felt trapped. His lengthy time in cryo had affected his brain. His memories had been intact, but he had needed to relearn everything that required motion. He had barely been able to talk, let alone feed himself, dress, or walk. It had taken years to struggle back. The idea that he could damage himself like that using the bliss-node was more upsetting than he could endure. But he couldn't bear the thought of losing the bliss, either.

"I'll check my schedule," Del said. "See what we can do."

Chandler looked relieved. "Great. Get back to me soon."

"I will. Thanks for following up."

"I'm just sorry it took so long. The Skolians are secretive about this whole Kyle business."

"I guess so." Del made himself smile. "Talk to you soon."

After they signed off, Del stood up and paused uncertainly in front of the console.

"You're going to blow him off, aren't you?" Jud said.

Del looked around. "Damn it, I hate the way you're always eavesdropping."

Jud hadn't moved from his place by the wall. "You spend hours every day in the bliss, Del. You're addicted. Strung out on virt."

"That's stupid. You can't be addicted to a simulation."

"Like hell." Jud uncrossed his arms. "Del, please, listen to him. You can't play roulette with your brain."

Del wanted him to get lost. He wanted to forget Chandler had ever called. But more than anything else, he wanted to use the bliss-node. And that scared him.

"When I was young," Del said, "I knew some guys on Metropoli who used vampers, those neuro-psillic amphetamines that slam straight into your brain." He still struggled with the memory. "They both died from overdoses within a few years after I went into cryo. Except they weren't Ruby princes. So no one saved them."

Jud spoke quietly. "And that makes you angry?"

Del sat at the console, feeling as if he weighed too much. "I had no more right to live than they did. I need to believe I survived for a reason. But I don't see one."

"For your music."

"Yeah, right." He looked up at Jud. "And don't give me that 'Del, you're an artist' crap. I've heard it." He thought of what Eldrin had said two nights ago when Del had talked to him during the party.
What, singing like that? You don't have to do it.
"No matter how you spin it, what I do isn't important."

Jud looked ready to sock someone. "You've been talking to your family again, haven't you?"

"Just leave it."

"You think running away in a bliss-node will fix it?" Jud punched at the air. "That's not the solution! It's not real."

"I don't care."

"I do."

Del stood up and spoke coldly. "I never asked you to. I just want you to leave me alone."

"Yeah, well, listen, you stupid asshole. I'm not going to leave you alone no matter how hard you push me away." Jud glared at him. "You got that?"

"Call me a stupid asshole again," Del said, "and I'll--" He ran out of steam. He would what? "I'll stop cleaning up around here."

Jud looked as if he didn't know whether to laugh or throw up his hands. "God help me. What other dire fates do you have planned?"

Del couldn't help but smile. "Give me time. I'll think of something terrible."

"Del, listen," Jud said. "Think of all the time you waste in the bliss. You haven't written any new songs since
Starlight.
What about "Carnelians?" We were doing great work on both versions. You haven't rehearsed either for months."

Del shifted his weight. "Mac doesn't want me to do that one."

"Mac isn't your keeper." Jud came over to him. "Do you really want the bliss to take over your life?"

Del felt as if he had run into a wall. "Nothing should stop the music. Never."

"Go talk to Chandler. What could it hurt?"

"He'll tell me to stop touring."

"That's not what he said. He claims treatments exist." Jud paused. "You're going to visit Lyshriol next week, right? Will you use the bliss-node there?"

Del had intended to bring the whole setup. Now he realized he probably couldn't get it through customs. He saw then how bizarre it was that he wanted to bring a virt to simulate his home while he was at home.

"I don't know." Del felt overwhelmed. "I'll stop using it, Jud. Really."

"Can you?"

"Sure." Del almost said,
I'll just do one last session.
But he didn't tell Jud. He could do it later, when Jud didn't know.

Just one last time. Then he would stop.

Two days later, Mac told Del the results of his check on Staver. The Skolian exec was everything he appeared. The next morning, Tyra told Del what she had discovered. ISC had a secret dossier on Staver Aunchild. He wasn't just involved in freeing providers; he had founded the movement. ISC considered him one of their top civilian operatives. He had a long record of service to the Imperialate. He could have won numerous awards for bravery, but his actions had to remain covert. He did it all with no credit, no acknowledgement, nothing.

Staver wasn't what he seemed. He was more. It was considered impossible to gain access to any of the few thousand providers kept by the Aristos. Yet he had freed over one hundred, at great risk to himself. The Aristos knew he existed, but nothing about his identity. They had offered a mammoth award for any bounty hunter who brought him in alive.

What drove Staver? The woman he knew, the one the Traders had captured and made a slave--

She was his wife.

That night, Del transferred ten million credits into an unmarked offworld account with a code Staver gave him.

"Here." Tyra pulled Del into the cobbled lane between two buildings as they ran. Jud and Bonnie were close behind, and Cameron brought up the rear. They raced through a wash of bluish laser-light, the overflow from holo displays on shops behind them. Tyra stopped at a door and smacked the
open
panel. When nothing happened, she kicked the door fast and hard, her motion blurring. She left a big dent in the metal slab.

"Whoa." Jud gaped at her. "How did you
do
that?"

"You can't go damaging property," Bonnie said.

"Better than if I have to shoot your overeager fans." Tyra kicked the door again, and it buckled inward, hanging from one edge.

Grabbing Del's arm, Tyra shoved him inside. He stumbled into the dark, then spun around while the others followed him. As Tyra wrestled the door into place, the pounding of feet grew louder. It sounded like the people chasing Del had turned into the lane. Bracing her knee against the door, Tyra wedged it into the frame. It could still fall inward, but only if someone pushed. They all stood in darkness then, breathing heavily while the rumble of feet passed the door.

"This is crazy," Jud said.

"No kidding." Del tried to laugh it off, but he couldn't any more.

"I've never seen anything like this," Bonnie said. "Not even on the Mind Mix tour. And people get really intense about Rex."

A light appeared around Tyra, coming from the belt on her black jumpsuit. They were in a storage area for a shop. Cameron walked around, scrutinizing the shelves while Tyra checked the area with her gauntlet systems.

Jud was watching Tyra with fascination. "You must have some righteous add-ons. How could you bash in that door?"

"I'm full of biomech," Tyra said. "Muscle and skeletal enhancement, hydraulic augmentation, bio-optic mesh, spinal node, and a microfusion reactor to power it all."

Bonnie smiled at Del. "You have impressive bodyguards."

"Destructive, too," he grumbled. "I'm the one who'll have to pay for that banged-in door."

"Hey, be glad she could," Jud said. "Otherwise those people would've caught us. Then you'd be paying for your banged-in body."

Del regarded him curiously. "What do you think they would do if they caught us?"

Jud smirked at him. "The girls all want to have biblical relations with you."

Del squinted at him. "What relations?"

"Can't you tell?" Tyra asked. "Good gods, Del, it's in their minds. They want to touch you. If my guess is right about what biblical relations means, then hell yes, they want that, too."

Last year, Del would have joked about his supposed sex appeal. But the euphoria of being craved had worn thin. "It's hard to sort out their moods, especially with my barriers up. They seemed . . ." He hesitated, not wanting to sound as overwrought as his family considered him. "Out of control." It was a mild way of saying they were going to come down on him like an avalanche.

Tyra didn't ridicule him. In fact, she said, "I'm trained in crowd control. You're right, that group wasn't far from losing it."

Jud did a karate chop on the air. "Del can do his fancy martial arts to stop them."

Cameron turned from where he was inspecting a canister of neon. "Yeah. So why haven't we ever seen him actually
do
these martial arts. He never does anything but dance."

Del shrugged. "It's called
mai-quinjo
. I'm no good at it." After that night at the lake, he had practiced rigorously, but he had suffered a "slight" hiatus, as in forty-five years, before he started practicing again. "I don't know. Maybe it is more like dance steps." He had always wondered if the masters who developed
mai-quinjo
had subconsciously sought an outlet for men who wanted to move in rhythm on a world where only women were allowed to dance. "I've never used it to defend myself."

Tyra was studying the miniature screen in her gauntlet. "I think it's clear outside. We should get going."

Del nodded, relieved to escape their scrutiny. Tyra edged the door open and checked the lane while Cameron monitored the area. When his guards declared it safe, they all walked back to the plaza where Del's fans had accosted them. They crossed it with no other excitement and entered their destination, the Prime-Nova building in Washington, D.C.

* * *

"You're late," Zachary said as Del entered his office with Jud, Bonnie, and his bodyguards.

People packed the room: Zachary was sitting in a leather chair, holding a glass of amber liquid; Ricki was leaning against the wall with her half-filled glass; Mac was seated near Zachary, reading a holofile; and Rex Montrow from Mind Mix, of all people, was on one end of the couch with a glass of the drink, probably rum from the smell. No one, however, caught Del's attention as much as the man who sat behind Zachary's mahogany desk, someone Del rarely saw in person because the man worked in New York: Lantham Marksman, Zachary's older brother, Chief Executive Officer of Prime-Nova.

"Some fans chased us," Del said. "We had to hide."

"Just as long as they keep buying your vids," Zachary said, then laughed as if he had made a joke.

Del gritted his teeth, remembering Raker and his laser carbine. Mac stiffened and set down his holofile. Although Lantham chuckled, his smile had a predatory quality. A Roman nose dominated his face, and silvered hair swept up from his unlined forehead. He looked forty, but Del knew the CEO was over eighty.

"Good to see you, Del," Lantham said, rising to his feet as Del reached his desk.

Del shook his hand, aware that Lantham didn't acknowledge the others with him. He hated it when Lantham treated his friends as if they were nothing, but he didn't want to antagonize the CEO any further after he had turned down the lucrative offer from Tarex. If Lantham had called this meeting because he expected to change Del's mind, they were going to have a problem.

"You know Rex, don't you?" Lantham said.

"Yeah, sure." Del nodded to Rex. "How's it going?"

Rex lifted his glass. "Great." As always, his smile flashed, ready and polished. And fake.

"Have a seat," Zachary said, indicating the couch.

Jud and Bonnie pulled up chairs, but Del felt like he had to sit on the couch; otherwise, he'd look as if he were deliberately going against Zachary. So he sat on the opposite end from Rex. The Mind Mix singer nodded in a friendly manner, but his gaze could have frozen ice.

Tyra stood by the door, monitoring the room, and Cameron took a post by the wall. Lantham and Zachary both glanced at Tyra, but neither asked why Del had a new guard. Del would have hired additional protection even if Kelric hadn't insisted. He still had nightmares about Raker and Delilah.