Wayfarer - Satori Part 16

Dunn nodded slowly. "Only one of us now. Me. Not very complete, mostly gaps and Myali's memories, but the spy is gone." Suddenly he sat bolt upright. "s.h.i.t, I forgot. Josh, get the h.e.l.l out of here!

Get everybody out of the area! Oh, s.h.i.t, the belly bomb!"

The other man sat calmly, a smile spreading across his face. "Not to worry. We found the bombs first thing. They went off hours ago."

"Bombs? More than one?"

Josh nodded. "Three, to be exact. One at the base of your brain, one in your stomach, and one attached to your sternum. Man, they were going to make hash of you."

"They never use three." Dunn's forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. "Unless ... unless there was more than one of them."

"Could be. Myali told me the bishop and the admiral don't seem to be getting on too well. Could be both of them put bombs in you, just to make sure each could deny the other total control."

"Sounds like the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds," Dunn muttered as he slumped back down onto the bed. "But that accounts for two. Who set the third?" He paused for a moment, then shook his head as if to clear it.

Slowly, he raised his left arm and looked at the stump. "d.a.m.n. Seems like a miracle." He looked up at Josh. "Father Kadir?"

"He'll be along soon. Wants to find out what the h.e.l.l you did. So do I. I don't understand it, Dunn. I really don't."

As if on cue, the door opened and Father Kadir walked into the room. A slight smile played about his lips as he saw Dunn begin to sit up to greet him. He raised his hand to forestall the movement. "Rest,"

he said gently. "You can talk as well lying down as sitting up. As Josh says, I am consumed by curiosity as to what you did and how you did it. I honestly thought my final hour had come when I saw that laser wand come out of your pocket."

Dunn chuckled. "It almost had. The whole thing was a long shot. But there really wasn't any other choice. Fact was, the spy had me pretty thoroughly under control. Up to a point, I kept exhausting myself struggling against him, but it was hopeless. He simply had more power than I did."

"Then one of the lessons Myali had taught me really sank in. She learned it from the Master of the Soft Way. Never meet force with force. Always use the opponent's strength rather than your own. Wait for the moment when he is extended, when his power is off balance, and then complete his movement, upsetting him and establishing your own control."

"At first, it looked hopeless. The spy had all the cards. But I had an idea. A pretty farfetched one, I admit, though it seemed the only one that even had a hope of working.""So I pretended to continue the fight against the spy. I twisted and struggled, raged and fought-only never at full force. It must have seemed I was growing weaker and weaker. I was, but I was also saving as much energy as I could for one last attack, an attack that would take every bit of strength I had, an all-out, do-or-die attempt delivered at precisely the right moment."

"The problem was picking the right moment. Obviously the best time would be when the spy was least suspecting it, when his attention and energy were focused on something else. But even that wouldn't be enough, I realized. I needed something else, something totally unexpected, something that would stun him into momentary imbalance."

"Only one time and one circ.u.mstance fit my requirements. So we marched up the hill, stood in front of the Way-Farer, and pulled out the laser wand." He smiled at Father Kadir. "Sorry if I gave you a bad moment there, Father. But you see, I had to get his attention focused on something other than me. And in that moment, he was so sure of victory that he didn't pay attention to the fact that I had taken control of the muscles of the right forefinger."

Dunn chuckled happily. "There he was, in all his power, totally in the front of my mind, totally connected with my nervous system, gloating, triumphant. He screamed at me, 'Kill him, kill him!' All I had was that forefinger, the one on the firing b.u.t.ton. And before the wand got high enough to hit the Way-Farer, I pushed and cut off my left hand.

"The shock hit him harder than anything I ever could have mustered. It staggered him, knocked him over. That's when I struck-slammed into him with everything I had. I ripped and tore, destroying everything I could get my hands on."

"Actually, it was surprisingly easy. He was a tight system, very rigidly ordered. All I had to do was knock out a few pieces and the whole d.a.m.n thing came tumbling down. Suddenly, I was all alone. The fight was finished before I hit the ground."

He looked thoughtfully at his stump. "Seems kind of strange now. Quiet. No spy hectoring and driving me, no Myali helping and guiding me, no Face taunting and frustrating me. Nothing much but silence and a little bit of me in a big, empty s.p.a.ce."

The Way-Farer nodded. "Yes, it must be quite a change. But you're not really alone, you know.

They're all still here. In time, you'll find them again. A piece here, a bit there. And you'll grow, too, to fill that empty s.p.a.ce. You've got a lot of building to do, my son. Take your time."

Dunn looked up at him. "Do we have the time, Father? The bishop and the admiral aren't going to sit up there waiting forever. When they discover that their spy failed-"

"They've already discovered that," Josh interrupted grimly. "The belly bombs went off. Doesn't that mean ... ?" He left the question hanging.

"Not necessarily," Dunn replied. "They would've detonated the bombs on completion of the mission in any case. Spies are considered expendable. Even successful ones are embarra.s.sing and potentially dangerous to have around, especially if they fall into the wrong hands. So usually as soon as the mission is over, or when it becomes obvious failure is imminent, somebody pushes the b.u.t.ton, and it's goodbye to the spy and anybody else in about a ten-foot radius." He paused, his brow furrowed in sudden thought.

"Hmmmmm. What I don't quite understand is why they waited so long to pull the plug on me. You had time to find and remove the bombs. Strange. The spy was transmitting a detailed report of events right up to the second I struck; then communication must have cut off abruptly and totally. That alone should have been enough. Unless the very suddenness ..." He looked at Josh. "How long was it between the time I collapsed and the bombs going off?"

"We knew about them from monitoring your mind during your trip here, Dunn, so we went after them at the same time we were working on your arm. Let's see ...couldn't have been more than an hour between the time you cut off you hand and the explosions, right, Father?"

Kadir nodded. "Yes. We had them out of you in about twenty minutes. It was only about a half hour later that they went off. And that was, oh, perhaps two and a half or three hours ago."

A malicious grin crept slowly across Dunn's face. "I just had a wonderful idea," he chuckled. The other two leaned forward in antic.i.p.ation. "My transmitter probably still works. It has its own power source." His grin grew larger. "Yeh. I've got a real wonderful idea."He closed his eyes and reached his tongue back to activate the switch in his molar. The response was immediate.

What the !!!???

Reporting mission accomplished.

A stunned silence, then an equally stunned question: Dunn?

Reporting mission accomplished. Way-Farer a.s.sa.s.sinated. Have further discovered planetary defenses are excellent. Some kind of exotic energy-beam emplacements in small, rounded hills scattered seemingly at random over the planet's surface. Pa.s.sive until activated by attack.

Dunn?

They're almost here. Too many to fight.

How in Kuvaz ...

Detonate bombs, imperative!

They've been detonated, d.a.m.n you! You're dead!

Detonate before they capture me! Detonate!

d.a.m.n you! d.a.m.n you, you're dead! Dead!

Detonate! Deto- He hit the switch with his tongue and cut the transmission.

For several minutes he couldn't stop laughing long enough to let Josh and Father Kadir in on the joke.

They, of course, had been unable to hear the conversation between Dunn and the ship. When he told them the details, they joined in his laughter.

Josh, in fact, laughed a little too hard. The gash in his shoulder was still very recent and his strength limited. His hilarity was cut cruelly short by a lancing pain that brought tears to his eyes and drained the color from his face. The Way-Farer immediately called for aid, and a young woman came and helped the wounded man back to his own bed for more rest.

When the younger man had left the room, Father Kadir sat quietly next to Dunn for several moments.

Finally, he spoke.

"You're still weak, too. Don't try to overdo it, Dunn. Losing a hand, even intentionally, is a dreadful shock to your system. Just take it easy for a couple of days."

"Do we have a couple of days, Father?"

Kadir fell silent again. Then he sighed. "Only the G.o.ds know, my son. This is the dark we could not see into. All the lines of probability lie up there, now." He gestured toward the ceiling. "We have done all we can. The rest lies in other hands."

"Myali?"

"Myali, the bishop, the admiral, anyone and everyone on the ship. We know only a fraction of what's happening and so can't tell for sure what forces are shaping the outcome."

"But Myali's there, alone?"

"Yes. Alone."

Dunn looked down at the stump. "I know the feeling. But at least I had her to keep me company."

"This is the path she must walk, that she walks for all of us. No one knows where it will lead."

"Isn't there anything we can do, Father? I mean, can we talk to her?"

"Josh communicates through the network when he has enough strength."

"Can I... Can I talk to her?"

Kadir shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry. You don't carry the Mind Brothers yet. That will take time.

No, you can't enter the network. Besides," he added after a pause, "the last time Josh tried to call, he got no answer." His voice sounded worried.

"No answer," Dunn echoed. "Does that mean ... ?"

"We don't know what it means." He sounded puzzled. "Even if she'd been sleeping, he should have been able to get through. But there was nothing. Just a dead silence."

"The machine," Dunn muttered.

"What?" the Way-Farer asked.

"The f.u.c.king machine. That b.a.s.t.a.r.d Thwait has her under the machine." His voice rose in pitch, filled with both anger and anguish. "They're trying to take her mind apart. Doing to her what they did to me.Oh, s.h.i.t! d.a.m.n them!"

He brought himself back under control. "The machine, Father. It's the way the Power maintains its control. If you step out of line, they put you under the machine. It scrambles your mind, sometimes even wipes it clean like it did mine. Then they just put in a new personality, like my spy, and you're theirs.

They've got her under the machine. She can't answer. She probably won't ever answer again. They'll take her apart to get the information they want, then readjust her." Despair reduced his voice to a whisper.

"Myali, oh d.a.m.n, Myali."

The Way-Farer was thoughtful. "This 'machine,' does it attack the conscious mind?"

Dunn nodded. "Yes. And more. Memories, ideas, emotions. Oh, h.e.l.l, it stirs it all up. Everything.

Conscious, unconscious, the whole works."

"No," the Way-Farer said gently, "not everything. There is one place it cannot touch, cannot reach."

Dunn looked up, hope and wonder lurking in his eyes. "One place," Kadir mused. "The abyss."

"The abyss?" Dunn asked. "I ... I don't know what that is. Could ... Could Myali hide there? Would she be safe from the machine in the abyss?"

"Safe? In the abyss? Yes and no. In it lies total security ... and utter danger. It is the source of both hope and despair."

"Will Myali go there to escape the machine?"

"She would never go there of her own will. It's the one place she fears more than death itself. And yet, I think it's her only hope." He paused, contemplating. "Her search has led her there again and again.

And now, ironically, it leads her back, finally and irrevocably." He looked deeply into Dunn's eyes. "How she faces it will determine the outcome of this entire thing. Yes, I can see that now. The darkness shifts aside just enough to see."

"And Mother Ilia knew that. Saw it clearly. Picked Myali for the task. The task she has never been able to achieve." The Way-Farer fell silent, his eyes softening and losing their focus. For some time he sat there, staring off into nothing. Suddenly, unexpectedly, he stood, his eyes snapping back to life, his face purposeful. "So," he said. "It is as it is. I will let you rest now. I must go to see Josh for a few minutes.

Then he, too, must rest. There is more for all of us to do yet, if I see aright. Yes, we need not be totally pa.s.sive." He turned to leave.

"Father," Dunn's voice was pleading. The Way-Farer turned back. "Father," he continued, "Myali. Is she lost out there forever? Is there any way to bring her back? I mean, if the machine doesn't destroy her, can she return to Kensho?"

Kadir smiled. "That is precisely what I want to see Josh about. He claims there is a way. I, for one, doubt him. But I'm about to go and see if he can convince me." His face became solemn, but kind.

"Dunn, we all want her back. You aren't the only one who loves her, you know." With that, he turned again and left the room.

Love her? Dunn wondered as he looked up at the ceiling. How can I love Myali when I've never even met her? He laughed quietly at himself. Of course I've met her. Known her intimately for years.

Know her better than probably anybody in the whole universe. She's in me, in my mind and soul. Without her I'd be dead meat right now, blown apart by the bombs. Without her I'd never have found Dunn again.

Love her? Utterly. Her joy, her sadness, her goodness, her evil, her bravery, her fear... her in every sense that she is. I only hope that I have the chance to tell her so.

Without realizing what he was doing, Dunn prayed for the first time in his life. Please, he asked the universe, please let her escape the machine. And let her come back to Kensho. And to me.

There was no answer.

But he felt better all the same.

XVI.

Falling.No, not falling. Falling indicates motion, and here there is no motion. Here is only stillness.

Can one imagine total, utter stillness? Not the restful stillness of a late-summer afternoon when the day has played itself out and everything waits in a quiet stupor for the lively coolness of evening. Nor the pause just before the wind pounces down from the storm cloud to whip the gra.s.slike growth of the Plain into a tossing sea of motion.

This stillness is deeper, going to the very core of things. It is the exhaustion of final entropy when all existence grinds to a halt and even the last subatomic vibrations fade away.

Nothingness. Transcendent emptiness that denies the very possibility of being. One by one the senses are drained of their sureness, and perception shown for a patchwork fraud. What we see, what we hear, what we smell, what we touch, what we know, the whole fabric of reality we weave so carefully to cover our nakedness in the face of existence is plucked, pulled, unraveled, dissolved, revealing the chaotic, ungraspable, seething turmoil that lies beyond. And beyond that ... the stillness.

In the chaos all purpose dies. All attempts to give existence meaning, to impose order on the universe, coil and writhe in agonized frustration. And shatter. Existence simply is. All things are. Our knowledge is no more than a crude approximation, a reaching toward, never an arriving at. Explanation, justification are brought up short, here, there, always just shy of understanding. Nothing is left but a mete grunt of acceptance, an inarticulate acquiescence that merely dribbles off into the stillness.

The stillness. Once, long ago on the home world, a group of men declared that the world must be divided into two parts: what we can say precisely and clearly; and the rest, which we can only pa.s.s over in silence. They were right in one sense, but then went on to spend all their time turned toward the part of the world they could formulate, ignoring and finally denying the importance of the rest. Yet it would not go away, nor could they keep from casting worried glances over their shoulders at the darkness that loomed just beyond the feeble light their knowledge cast.

The stillness. Beyond the chaos, absorbing it, dissolving it. Lying in the very center of things. The Way does not "pa.s.s over" in silence those things that cannot be said. It does not turn its back on the unspeakable, the unknowable, the dark, the endless, wordless, meaningless, nothing. The Way dwells there and those who follow the Way sit in its center and become one with it.