Total Recall (24 page)

The hatchling paused, and again, Q’ad and M’la stiffened.

The hatchling’s antennae quivered. Then the little body relaxed.
I am unable.

Why are you unable?

It is a concept alien to my nature.

Q’ad’s antennae met M’la’s antennae in an expression of rapture. Their hatchling had qualified!

They left the chamber. They would have no further contact with their hatchling, unless later he was assigned to the same project as one of them. Their part had been done: they had produced a true No’ui individual.

But the episode reminded Q’ad of the alien concept. What
did
it mean? He had struggled with this before, but it had always remained beyond his antennae. It seemed to suggest that something was not precisely as represented, yet indicated the essence. That was incomprehensible. A thing either was or was not; it could not be approximate in other than the purely physical sense, as in the case of an estimate instead of a direct count. Yet it appeared that the verbal language of the human species utilized this concept, and that humans understood it. They were of course primitive; perhaps they would eliminate such meaningless terms from their vocabulary as they matured. Still, it bothered him that a primitive species should be able to grasp a concept that no No’ui could.

Q’ad and M’la were now free to return to their assignments. But in time they would breed again, because their combination had proved to be successful. They had each justified their effort, by producing a viable hatchling in this hostile environment.

Q’ad found that he was now assigned to work on the surface. They were nearing the time of the test transformation and certain modifications had to be made in the landscape. M’la would be working with the genetically modified plants that would be able to root in the sands of this harsh planet. They both had to wear space suits, because until the project was completed there was insufficient atmosphere to sustain them. Actually, they would have to use suits once the atmosphere was established, because of course they could not breathe the alien mixture.

Then the presentation left Q’ad and M’la and zoomed above the planet, showing the time of its temporary transformation. An atmosphere was generated in the general manner described by the hatchling, oxygen-rich but suitable for human sustenance. Water flowed, and the special plants sprouted. The nuclear reactor had elements extending far across the planet, which were used to dissipate its enormous heat, at the same time bringing the temperature of the ground up to the level required by the plants, which was between the freezing and vaporizing points of the water that now collected in the declivities.

The test was a success; it was evident that the human species would be able to live on the surface of the planet if it activated the prepared mechanisms. The No’ui shut them down and restored the planet to its prior condition, except that the flow of water had changed some features in irrelevant ways. The plants were eliminated; their seeds were stored where they would be dispersed when the system was activated at a later date by the arriving human creatures. The activation itself would be simple; the complex was primed to come to life when a particular action was taken. That action was made clear to Hauser. He could readily do it.

But how did they know that the humans would be suitable traders? Hauser wondered. Suppose they abused the equipment?

In answer, he saw a representation of the planet Mars, with the Pyramid Mountain highlighted: the site of the nuclear reactor he had seen them building, and where he now (in memory) stood, receiving this presentation. There were three courses: it could be used as intended, and not only would it transform the planet so as to be livable by the human kind, it would yield its secrets of technology to human scientists, and enable them to catapult their species into galactic space, becoming full-fledged traders. Or it might be ignored, in which case the human species would make its own way as far as it was going to, perhaps achieving trader status in some later millennium. Or it might be abused, in which case it would be destroyed. A little nova symbol appeared, evidently indicating the destruction.

Now the program addressed him directly:
Go tell your species, D’gls Q’ad H’sr. Make it understand that the choice is upon it. We No’ui put the matter on your appendages.

The presentation ended. Hauser found himself standing in the booth, and it was only a booth again. The alien presence was gone.

For some time he remained, awed. He knew that there were levels of this message that would take him hours, weeks, or years to understand completely. Right now, he knew what this complex was for, and how to activate it. That was enough.

He also knew that whatever loyalties he might have had in the past had been preempted by the No’ui. He was now their emissary.

CHAPTER  22
Betrayal

N
ow, as Quaid, he understood so much, yet still not enough. He knew there was danger, immense danger, but wasn’t sure of its nature. Had Cohaagen’s men captured him, there in the alien complex? If so, what had he told them? His mind had been opened to the No’ui, but not to his own life, which had been blotted out by the memory implant that had lopped off his past identity and made him Douglas Quaid.

Somehow he knew that he wouldn’t have told Cohaagen about the true nature of the alien complex. Cohaagen was the wrong person; he would be an abuser rather than a user. Maybe Cohaagen had subjected him to the memory implant in an effort to make him tell. Somehow the alien knowledge must have been proof against Cohaagen’s interrogation. But who was the right person to tell?

He saw an expanse of ice, now, at the bottom of the complex; he must have moved to another region. The ice was punctured by hundreds of round wells, like a giant pegboard. He looked up and saw that a column was suspended directly above the hole, like a peg.

A peg. A peg that could be lowered into the hole, where it would start a reaction, activating the system, starting a complex chain of events that would in due course . . .

Kuato had not been able to read much of the No’ui message; that had been for Quaid alone. Evidently the No’ui knew how to shield against telepaths too, even in a memory of a message received fifty thousand years after being recorded! So they must have been able to keep it from Cohaagen. But now Kuato caught on.

“A nuclear reactor!” he exclaimed. “To make an atmosphere!”

But Kuato’s attention remained on Quaid. “Think, Quaid! How does it work?”

Quaid returned to the memory. He soared up through space, needing no support because he was exploring a design that was now stored in his head, and could be explored by mere thoughts. It was the eidetic implant of the No’ui: the alien presence in his mind. He passed temporary scaffolding on the side of the abyss. He approached a ledge at the very top of the pit. There was a walkway leading to what he knew was a control room. He floated into it.

There were electronic consoles surrounded by enormously complex mechanical systems—the tops of the corroded columns. But the corrosion was nothing; the No’ui would have guarded against it had it mattered. The key elements of the machinery were protected. He passed a textured wall.

He knew how to start this device. The question was whether Kuato was the one to tell. There was something that made him doubt, not because Kuato was a bad person—that wasn’t the case—but because of a wrongness in the situation. Something didn’t jibe, and until he knew exactly what was wrong, he was stalling.

“There!” Kuato cried. “Go back . . . More . . . There.”

An abstract mandala, a concentric configuration of geometric shapes that might represent the cosmos, had been sculpted into the stone. It was covered with weird hieroglyphics that did not derive from Sumer or Egypt or any Earthly culture. It was a No’ui representation, and Quaid understood it now, but did not care to interpret it for anyone else. The wrongness was still there—not Kuato himself, but—

“Closer,” Kuato said eagerly. Evidently he could read the mandala, see the figures, but did not know their meaning.

In the center of the mandala was an image of startling familiarity: a human hand.

Kuato saw the hand, but didn’t get it. “How do you start the reactor?” he demanded. “Concentrate!”

Quaid focused on the hand, tracking toward it, as if drawn into it. Oh yes, he knew—

Suddenly the hand began to vibrate. A low-pitched rumbling filled the chamber. Quaid’s eyes snapped open and the rumbling continued. It wasn’t part of his vision!

Sand and gravel rained down from the ceiling. Hairline cracks spread through the walls and then expanded into wide fissures. A mining mole bored through the chamber wall and burst into the room. Quaid leaped from his chair and George followed suit, buttoning his shirt as he ran for the door. A rebel threw it open and they entered the chaos of the outer chamber.

Another mole had bored into the catacombs, churning through the mummified bodies. Fifty soldiers mowed down the outnumbered, outgunned rebels. The mole ground its way out through another niche-lined wall, heedless of the sacrilege. Soldiers followed the juggernaut farther into the chamber. Some rebels tried to fight, but they had been caught unprepared. This was no more than a mop-up operation for Cohaagen’s forces.

“Where’s Kuato?” said the rebel at the door. An explosion ripped through the room, throwing everyone to the floor. Quaid helped George to his feet and bent to lend a hand to the rebel fighter, but the man was dead.

Melina and Benny found their way to Quaid’s side. George’s bloody shirt had been torn open in his fall and they stared at Kuato’s wizened head in amazement. But there was no time for explanations.

“This way!” George shouted. He led them through a concealed door into a passageway. Soldiers tried to block their path, but Melina mowed them down. Benny and Quaid grabbed guns from the fallen soldiers and ran on through a series of chambers until they reached an airlock. Quaid guarded the rear as George, Melina, and Benny squeezed through the door. As he closed the door and flipped the lever to bolt it in place, he heard more gunfire—from
within
the airlock!

Quaid spun just in time to see Benny riddling George’s body with bullets. There had been a traitor in their midst. Kuato himself would have known it had he looked into Benny’s mind. But he had been watching Quaid and so had overlooked the obvious. Benny had used Quaid as a shield to get near Kuato.

Before Quaid could move, Benny seized Melina and pointed the gun at her head. “Freeze!” he shouted. Quaid froze and Benny sneered. “Congratulations, folks. You led us right to him.”

Quaid ignored the jibe and knelt to examine George’s still form, trying to find a last flicker of life. If Kuato could strike at Benny’s mind, set him back just long enough for Quaid to—

“Forget it, bro,” Benny said. “His fortune-telling days are over.”

Kuato’s head was dead weight. George’s head hung limp. The body seemed dead.

Melina glared at Benny, as astounded as she was outraged. “Benny, you’re a mutant!”

The man’s lips quirked. He displayed a flashing beacon hidden in his artificial hand. “It pays to keep in touch. Your boys never checked me. Hell,
Kuato
never caught on. He may have had weird powers, like the rumors say, but he wasn’t smart, and this organization wasn’t smart. You can bet nobody would’ve sneaked into Cohaagen’s den like this!”

Quaid had to agree. He had noted the laxity of the rebels himself. They had depended too much on Kuato’s mutant power, and let something obvious and stupid happen. They weren’t professionals.

But Benny was. His eyes glittered cruelly as he added: “Sorry, Mel. I got five kids to feed.”

Five? “What happened to number six?” Quaid asked.

Benny grinned. “Shit, man. I ain’t even married.” Then he was suddenly authoritarian. “Now put your fucking hands on your head!”

From alien majesty to human ignominy, so quickly! It seemed that the No’ui had been right to doubt the likelihood of man’s success. With men like Cohaagen in control, the alien gifts weren’t worth it.

As Quaid complied with his order, Benny pulled Melina with him while he edged over and kicked open the bolt on the airlock door. Quaid remained alert for any mistake on Benny’s part, but the man was alert, too. Only by sacrificing Melina could he have gotten the man—and Benny knew he wouldn’t do that. Benny had been standing right there when Quaid had acknowledged his love for her.

Then Quaid heard a muffled choking sound from Kuato’s head. He bent close to hear the barely audible whisper.

“Quaid . . .”

“Back off, Quaid!” Benny snapped.

Kuato struggled to speak again. “Start the reactor . . . Free Mars.” Quaid jumped back as a burst of gunfire obliterated the head. He heard a muffled exclamation from Melina. He looked up—and there was Richter standing above him, holding an automatic rifle.

“Make a move,” said Richter.
“Please.”

Quaid’s eyes burned into the man with hatred. But he was helpless. Benny’s betrayal had wiped out both the Resistance and Quaid’s hope.

Quaid and Melina were roughly shackled and thrown into a mole for transport. “I’m sorry,” he told her, over the roar of the engine. “If it hadn’t been for me, Benny wouldn’t have gotten to Kuato.”

“I brought you in!” she said. “I thought—feared—”

“That I was the traitor,” he finished for her. “I know. I don’t remember much of what we were to each other before, but I think for me it was supposed to be business. When I fell into the pit, I realized that I loved you. That’s why that memory kept coming back to me. It was the last I had seen of you. I guess Cohaagen didn’t know about that, or thought the memory implant would wipe it out. It did wipe out all the other memories, but not the love.”

“I couldn’t forget you,” she said. “I didn’t know whether I could trust you, but somehow . . .”

“I guess we were destined for each other, corny as that sounds. But you know, there was more I found down there, before they—I guess they captured me. I don’t remember that, but I remember the alien message.”