The Eternity Brigade Part 12

The man died instantly. Within moments of his death, the three soldiers felt the bubble around them shake as though caught in a ma.s.sive earthquake. The glow from the walls died, and the walls themselves blurred and turned a dead-leaf brown. The pieces of furniture that had been conjured up through the floor curled at the edges and shriveled into themselves. The bubble, too, began collapsing. Strange indentations appeared in the originally smooth exterior sh.e.l.l, accompanied by a disgusting sucking sound.

Hawker and his friends looked about wildly, but the door throughwhich they'd come had disappeared. The shaking continued, becoming even more violent, and they were knocked off their feet onto the hard floor while the walls around them continued their implosion.

All three cried out, fears of being crushed or suffocated flitting through their minds. As the sh.e.l.l closed in upon them, though, it turned out to be some gooey substance that clung to their skin and clothing like mola.s.ses.

They reached up their arms, striving to tear holes through the goo to enable themselves to breathe, and just did manage to find the s.p.a.ce before the globe collapsed completely, bathing them in a syrupy swamp.

"What is this s.h.i.t?" Symington asked, struggling to free his arms from the quagmire.

"No wonder Consakannis was confused when we asked if anyone else lived here with him," Belilo said. 'This literally was his house, attuned to his personal pattern. When his body was no longer alive, the house ceased to serve any function and just melted down into this... mess." She was struggling, too, to pull herself out of the sticky liquid that had been Consakannis's bubble. "No wonder he wasn't afraid of our killing him. He must have thought we were incredibly stupid."

"He'll be resurrected again anyway, won't he?" Hawker asked.

"I guess so. They seem to have extended that privilege to everyone on this world. They can probably duple his house, too. Not that it helps us any. I'm only glad the bubble was on the ground when I shot him. Can you imagine what would have happened if he'd died while we were floating up there?"

By sheer force she and Symington had begun to pull themselves out of the ocean of goo, and Hawker belatedly followed suit. The viscous fluid clung tenaciously to his clothing and particularly his boots, making walking difficult. "We'd better get back to Green," he panted. "I don't think we'll get any help from the bubble people."

"I'll second that," Symington agreed. He and Hawker helped Belilo climb out of the soup and onto dry land. The slimy mixture flowed slowly down their bodies and onto the ground, leaving the soldiers feeling dirty and somehow tainted. They stomped their feet to shake loose some final vestiges of the bubble, then walked back into the forest, keeping a close eye out for any other bubbles that might descend.They were in for a surprise, though, when they reached the spot where they'd left their deformed comrade. There was an angel floating in the air above Green's body.

Or at least it looked like an angel at first glance. The being was humanoid, with enormous feathered wings protruding from her back, beating gently to keep herself aloft. Her entire body glowed as though filled with natural phosph.o.r.escence. She was naked except for a narrow jeweled belt, and she was quite definitely feminine. Her long flowing hair was a shade halfway between blond and green, her skin a pale coffee color; her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were small and firm, and she had no pubic hair. She studied the soldiers as they approached just as curiously as they studied her.

Symington spoke first. "Who the h.e.l.l are you?"

"My name's Ama.s.sa," she replied evenly. "More importantly, who are you?"

"n.o.body special," Belilo said warily.

"Really? I'd have guessed you were the escaped soldiers we've all heard about."

Symington raised his rifle, aiming squarely at the angel's midriff. At this range he could scarcely miss.

Ama.s.sa looked back at him, unconcerned. "Oh, how primitive! Are you going to kill me, too?"

Belilo reached out and pushed Symington's rifle downward, pointed harmlessly at the ground. "Not if we can avoid it," she said. "We don't want to hurt anybody."

"You could have fooled me," Ama.s.sa said. "I was watching the scene in Consakannis's bubble on my own home screen. You sounded awfully mean there."

Hawker felt a chill run up his spine. How many other people had witnessed what went on in Consakannis's bubble? Was everyone on Cellina tuned in? Had their brave-or foolhardy-attempt at freedom been reduced to the level of a TV show to entertain the populace? Were they really free now, or were they merely out on a long leash for the amus.e.m.e.ntof their masters?

These questions had obviously occurred to Belilo and Symington, too, judging by the doubtful expressions on their faces. But Belilo remained the spokesperson, maintaining her glacial calm even in the midst of this confusion. "We made a mistake," she excused. "We're in a desperate situation and we react largely by instinct."

Ama.s.sa clapped her hands, the delight on her face like that of a small child. "Just as I thought. Oh, this could be very good indeed."

Symington's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by 'this'?"

"Would you like me to help you?" Ama.s.sa said, totally ignoring the question.

"Help us?" Hawker asked. "How?"

"I could take you into my bubble and hide you from the army."

"How can we be sure you won't turn us in, instead?" Belilo asked.

Ama.s.sa laughed. It was a pleasant laugh, like the tinkle of tiny bells, yet Hawker found it oddly disquieting. "I guess you can't," the angel replied.

"But if you don't come with me, I'll definitely turn you in."

It was then that the three on the ground realized just how trapped they were. They stood at the mercy of this strange winged woman, whose body and face radiated with innocence, but whose eyes bespoke depths they could not understand. For a brief moment Hawker thought of killing Ama.s.sa too, but realized the futility of that. There were hundreds of other bubbles in the sky, hundreds of other potential witnesses; it only took one to give their location away to the army, and everything they'd fought for would be lost.

No, he decided. Better to go with Ama.s.sa now and hope she might really help them. There was no sane alternative. Hawker looked at the faces of his friends and saw that they had come to the same unhappy conclusion.

Ama.s.sa, too, could read the expressions on the soldiers' faces. She smiled, and the glow from her body brightened. "Come," she said. "I'vebrought my home-sphere down just outside the woods. We can retire there." She flew gracefully between the trees; Symington picked up Green, slung him over his shoulder and then joined his friends as the group followed Ama.s.sa out of the forest.

The bubble looked the same as the previous one from the outside, but Ama.s.sa had known to expect company, and had arranged the interior accordingly. The entrance room was large enough to throw a sizable party in. There was a comfortable padded couch on which Green could be set, and miscellaneous other furniture for the guests' comfort. One whole wall acted as a picture window-but the scene it portrayed was not the tableau outside the bubble; rather, it was a constantly changing diorama of views from all over the planet. The other walls glowed with subtle colors that mixed and swirled in no discernible pattern. The eerie lighting only added to the unsettling feeling Hawker got from this unusual captor.

"What are you going to do with us?" Symington asked after setting Green down on the couch.

"I don't know," Ama.s.sa said simply. "I haven't thought it out yet.

Something interesting will come to mind, no doubt."

"Why are you taking so much interest in us?" asked Belilo.

"Oh, I guess because I'm Consakannis's nitzah."

The language lessons that had been implanted in Hawker's mind when he was resurrected reminded him of that term's meaning. A nitzah was somewhat less than a spouse, but considerably more than a casual friend.

It was not always a s.e.xual relationship, his training told him, but the exact subtleties of the arrangement were beyond his comprehension.

Belilo licked her lips. "Now look, if you want revenge for what we did, you have to remember he goaded us into it. If he'd explained himself at the time and cooperated with us, we wouldn't have had to-"

"Revenge? Oh, how delightfully primitive!" Ama.s.sa laughed again.

Despite the euphony of the sound, Hawker decided he did not like this woman's laughter.

"No, what would be the point of revenge?" Ama.s.sa continued.

"Consakannis will be dupled again very shortly, if he hasn't been already. Ifhis death was at all painful, he can excise out that split second of pain; within the next day or so he'll rejoin us, and he'll probably laugh at the pictures of you being caught in his dead sphere."

"If you're not after revenge, why do you want us?" Hawker asked.

Ama.s.sa ignored the question. "I suppose you learned some lesson with Consakannis," she said, "but just let me repeat it a little. It's rather foolish to try anything that would make me uncomfortable. I have more powers here than you do."

She didn't need to touch the walls to control her globe, as Consakannis had done; instead, she merely fingered one of the jewels on her belt.

Instantly the gravity within the bubble grew so oppressively heavy that none of the soldiers could stand upright. They slumped to the floor, gasping for breath while Ama.s.sa, unaffected, floated over them and smiled. "If you'll just remember this one simple fact," she said, "I'm sure we'll get on tremendously." Another touch of the belt, and gravity returned to normal. Hawker and his companions rose slowly to their feet.

"You made your point," Belilo said.

"Good," Ama.s.sa said with childlike enthusiasm. "Now, are any of you hungry?"

Thoughts of food had been pushed from their minds by more urgent matters, but the mere mention was enough to spark their appet.i.tes. Two days of near-starvation had taken their toll. Despite the soldiers'

apprehension over their new condition, they nodded avidly.

Ama.s.sa touched her belt again and a small section of the wall became a viewing center. On the screen flashed images of dishes beyond number, each appearing for barely a second before being replaced by another. It was a virtual encyclopedia of foods from a mult.i.tude of different planets.

"If you see anything you like," Ama.s.sa said, "just let me know."

The three stared openmouthed at the display, hardly knowing what to answer. "Everything looks so good, it really doesn't matter," Belilo said.

She pointed suddenly at random. "How about that?"

Ama.s.sa froze the image on the screen. The dish appeared to be a rich kind of stew, and the brief description beside it indicated it was madefrom four different kinds of meat and two dozen distinct vegetables from three different worlds. The aroma also wafted through the air, making the fugitives' mouths water.

"All of you want that? Fine, you've got it." The angel touched her belt once more and a table rose out of the floor. On the table were three large bowls filled with the steaming stew.

Hawker stared with amazement that a dish with so many complex ingredients could be prepared so quickly -and then he wondered why he was surprised. If people could be dupled exactly, why not a bowl of stew?

If, as Philaskut had told them, the pattern for a human being could be recorded in a crystal no larger than a grain of salt, the stew must be simplicity itself-and it was just as easy to recreate it whole as to create the individual ingredients and waste time preparing and cooking it.

He stood transfixed before the table. The implications of all this were staggering. He had never really contemplated it all before, but the matter duplicator was a development that must have changed the entire pattern of human existence. Hunger and poverty could be eliminated; why should anyone go without something when he could simply press a b.u.t.ton and have an exact duplicate of it all his own? That would certainly explain the free and easy life-style of Ama.s.sa and the other bubble people. They had no knowledge of what it was like to go without something; self-denial was an alien concept.

His imagination soared at the idea of this society, only to crash back to reality with a sudden thud. One thing was still the same: war. The needs and goals of a society might change; they had evolved so far beyond Hawker's comprehension that he seldom bothered to ask what the war was about any more. But the fighting remained-and as long as it did, Hawker and the other "primitives" would still be useful to society.

He stepped forward toward the table, along with Symington and Belilo, then stopped suddenly. "What about our friend?" he asked, gesturing over his shoulder at the still figure of Green.

"What would he like?" Ama.s.sa asked.

"I don't know. He can't seem to eat much of anything. The army doctors say they had him on a special diet. His pattern was messed up when they dupled him, and his body doesn't work right. We tried feeding him in thewoods, but he just threw up again."

Ama.s.sa's perfect face contorted to a thoughtful pout; she was clearly unhappy at this complication. A door opened in one wall and she walked out into the next room, leaving the soldiers along for several minutes.

Finally she came back, touched her belt controls and said, "There. That should take care of it."

A transparent dome glowing energy covered Green's body atop the couch. "What's happening?" Hawker asked.

"The house is feeding proteins and digested materials directly into his bloodstream," Ama.s.sa explained. "We bypa.s.s the eating and digesting stages altogether."

"Sort of an advanced method of intravenous feeding," Belilo said.

Hawker was still a little unsure, but the aroma of the hot stew was weakening his resistance. Unable to do anything further for Green, he turned back to the table and ate his own meal with great relish. Ama.s.sa even gave him second helpings, which he wolfed down greedily.

The fugitives ate without much discussion, and when they finished and looked around, they noticed Ama.s.sa was gone. "Wonder where she went,"

Symington said.

"I've given up trying to figure her out," Belilo said. "She'll be back when she's ready, I'm sure of that. In the meantime, let's look around and see what we can find."

"Ama.s.sa might not like that," Hawker said.

"She didn't say we couldn't, did she? Besides, I don't quite trust her."

"That's for sure," Symington agreed.

The three soldiers prowled cautiously through Ama.s.sa's home-sphere, alert for any further surprises this culture might have in store, but could find nothing of interest other than a semienclosed toilet. The three other rooms within the globe were all small and devoid of furnishings; Ama.s.sa probably conjured up her furniture only when she needed it. There was no sign of their hostess, and they could only surmise that she had gone out tovisit one of the other bubbles. She could be betraying them to the army at this very moment-but she could have done that quite some time ago, too, without going to this much trouble on their behalf. In any event, there was little they could do about it right now. Disappointed, they returned to the original room.

They found that Green was awake and staring at them with his weird, off-center eyes. They crowded around him, anxious to know how he was feeling.

"Better than I felt in the lab," he replied. "It's no fun living under a microscope. I can't thank you enough for all you've been through for my sake."

"We're not free yet," Belilo said. "Not by a long shot." She proceeded to tell him, with occasional asides from Hawker and Symington, the story of their escape and flight, and their current predicament. Hawker described his hypotheses about the current culture on Cellina, and Green nodded.

"You're really using your brain, Hawk. I'm proud of you." Green coughed harshly and settled back on his couch. "Decadence..."

His voice drifted off, and for a few moments his friends were afraid he'd drifted into semiconsciousness once more. But he was only thinking; the look of intelligence never wavered in his eyes.

"A world that's conquered both poverty and death," he mused aloud at last. "It must be decadent beyond our ability to imagine. There's no need to work, no challenge to living. Material goods will mean nothing, so the only thing left of any value is sensation. The only thing they can do to fill their days is experience as many different things as they can."

Again he drifted off into thought, only to snap suddenly out of his reverie. He propped himself up awkwardly on his misshapen elbows and looked at the group-particularly at Hawker. "Be very careful, all of you,"

he warned. "If these people have no limits, it also means they have no morals. They'll have only one rule of behavior, to stay one up on the next guy. I don't think the rules of human behavior will change that drastically.

Power and control, that's what it's always been about. If anything, those drives have probably been amplified since the drive to get enough to eat and enough to own has been eliminated. Ama.s.sa's already shown you that she wants to control your actions. She wants to be in charge. Watch outfor her..."

His voice drifted off again, but this time the l.u.s.ter was fading from his eyes, to be replaced by the gla.s.sy stare of incomprehension. Green had slipped out of reality once more, and Hawker clenched his fists in frustration at the thought that a person as good and smart as his friend could have to suffer this terrible tragedy.

Hours pa.s.sed, and still there was no sign of Ama.s.sa. Hawker and his friends talked for a while among themselves, but quickly ran out of things to say. They could make no plans for escape when they didn't know how powerful their enemy was. There was nothing else to do inside the bubble except watch the changing panorama on the picture window, and they quickly tired of that, too. Eventually their boredom led them to the soldier's ultimate recourse-they curled up in the comfortable furniture and went to sleep.

Hawker opened his eyes to find a face staring back at him from only a few centimeters away. The face was bright orange and had three eyes, and at first Hawker thought his own eyes were out of focus from having just woken up. He blinked several times, but the image did not change. Then he felt some hands caressing his shoulders, and he sat up, startled.

The orange face backed quickly away to a more respectful distance, and Hawker noticed with alarm that the face was attached to a body like that of a hairless chimpanzee. The three-eyed orange chimp smiled at him and wiggled its hips seductively. Hawker glanced down its body and saw that it was most definitely masculine. He quickly shook his head and turned away.

The room had expanded out to its full limits, squeezing the other rooms of the bubble into non-existence. Into this vast open s.p.a.ce was crowded the most unusual a.s.sortment of people Hawker had ever seen in one place.

They all had derived from human stock, but they had been so altered that no two of their bodies looked exactly alike. Heights ranged between one and three meters; some bodies were stick thin, others quite well rounded.

Hair, eyes and skin colors were of every imaginable shade. Some of the people had more than the standard number of limbs, some had less; others had outre appendages like horns, antlers, wings or lobster claws.

Some were clothed, some not, but both s.e.xes were adequately represented -sometimes even within the same body.Hawker looked for his friends, and spotted them over by Green's couch.

Symington and Belilo were equally aghast at this freak a.s.semblage, while Green appeared to be still within his coma. Hawker rose from the chair where he'd been sleeping and pushed his way through the curious crowd to his comrades' side. "What in h.e.l.l is all this?" he asked them.

Ama.s.sa, who'd been standing just a short distance away, came over to them. "I'm glad you're all awake now," she said breezily. "These are a few of my friends. They were so excited when they heard I was entertaining some primitives that they all wanted to come and meet you. I hope you'll be polite to them."

One short female, her face covered with a peachlike fuzz, walked boldly up to the group of soldiers, who crouched back together for mutual protection. She looked over each of the three in turn and stopped in front of Belilo. "I'm Nya," she purred. "You interest me."

"Me?" Belilo said. "But I..."