Page 62 of Intervention

This type of thought-screen was sug­gested by the late Nobel Laureate, Xiong Ping-yung, shortly before his death in 2006. Xiong was honored for formulating the Universal Field Theory, upon which sigma research is based. There has been increasing speculation in the West that China may be already working on such a device secretly, in connection with its in­creasingly defensive posture vis-à-vis the Soviet Union.

  24

  DU PAGE COUNTY, ILLINOIS, EARTH 4 AUGUST 2OI2

  THE MUGGY MIDWESTERN air hit Victor Remillard like a hot barber towel as the door of the Remco jet opened. Shannon Tremblay was waiting at the foot of the steps, her white cotton caftan billowing in the wind. Pregnancy became her, heightening her color and adding needed flesh, but aside from these changes her condition did not show. Victor could not resist scanning the perfect tiny body of the fetal girl. It was only five months alive and even now its mind showed certain familial metapsychic traits. It was damned spooky.

  Shannon felt his touch and laughed. "Laura's going to be the clincher, you know. The factor to force Daddy to bring you into the organization — even without bonding. He's really very superstitious. She's an omen to him. A symbol. He may even think of her as a superior version of me, to be used ..."

  They hurried over the tarmac to the small airport's parking lot. The temperature must have been far over 40° Celsius and the sunlight was like blazing bars thrust through rising masses of purplish thunderheads.

  "Have you told Gerry?" Victor asked.

  "Of course. Why not? I think he may be relieved. Daddy was always pressuring us to have children . . . especially a girl. He was disappointed when nothing happened and blamed me, since there's no doubt that Gerry's fertile. Of course, you know why I wouldn't. Not until now. Laura will be our celebration, Victor — not Daddy's."

  Her black Ferrari Automa was running at high revs, keeping cool. She touched the lock, opening both doors, and said, "You drive. The guid­ance system is preset for most of the way."

  He nodded and slid onto the icy leather seat with a sense of relief. It had been difficult to control his sweat glands. He could handle either the heat or the fear-excitement reflex, but it was hell bucking both of them at once. He checked the routing on the dash map-display, put up the spoiler, and eased the Ferrari out of the lot onto the airport frontage road.

  "When is Gerry due out?"

  "Next week. "

  "Is your old man going to stiff him?"

  "Certainly not. Gerry's valuable, even if he's tainted. " Her lips quirked. "He's valuable to us, too, so don't let me hear any more divorce bullshit. Not until we've won. "

  "Suit yourself. " As they came onto the ramp for Route 64, he punched in the automatic guidance, took his hands from the wheel and his foot from the accelerator. Cruise control took over, merging them neatly with the eastbound traffic flow. On a second-class highway like 64, with only two pilot-stripped lanes in each direction, their speed was held down to 120 kph with no left-lane prioritizing; but in a few minutes they turned onto southbound 59, a three-laner, and the priority function of the guidance system began to communicate with transponders in other vehicles, sweeping them out of the Ferrari's way. They accelerated to 200 and in moments they were swinging onto the East-West Expressway and roaring toward Oakbrook, well spaced among the other privileged cars in the innermost of five eastbound lanes.

  "I wish to hell we had pilot-strips in my neck of the woods, " Victor groused. "It's still all manual in northern New Hampshire, except on the Interstates, and no priority speeding anywhere. New Hampshire doesn't believe in it. "

  "Illinois is glad of the licensing fees — but then, they have a lot more bills to pay. We all know that New Hampshire keeps costs down by giving its welfare clients bus fare to Massachusetts. "

  Victor chuckled. "An old Yankee custom. No taxes, no frills, and devil take the hindmost. "

  "He just may, " Shannon murmured, "unless we're very, very careful. But I had to have you see what Daddy's got, Victor. "

  The console beeped to warn them that they were approaching their exit and the termination of programmed cruising. Victor took the wheel again as they went onto the Midwest Road ramp. He had never been to Kieran O'Connor's mansion, but the blip on the dash-map showed the way. The Ferrari slowed to a sedate ninety and made its way through rolling wooded hills where white-painted paddock fencing or weathered split rails delineated the boundaries of large estates. They turned into an unmarked lane and went another half kilometer, then came to a halt before massive gateposts of red brick surmounted by bronze lanterns. Wrought-iron gates four meters high swung open when Shannon zapped them with a hand-held beamer. Victor saw that the thick bank of blooming shrub-roses surrounding the property had concealed an inner double barrier of chain link and electrified mesh. More fencing bordered the drive and behind it bull mastiffs and Dobermans watched the Ferrari's progress with silent alertness. A short distance further along they came to another perimeter of charged chain link topped with razor-wire. On the other side of a reinforced steel gate was a guard kiosk with cameras, spotlights, windows of one-way glass, and several unobtrusive gun-ports. A rustic sign at the barrier said:

  WELCOME. STAY IN YOUR VEHICLE.

  OBEY INSTRUCTIONS PROMPTLY.

  "Sweet shit, " muttered Victor.

  Cameras swiveled, inspecting the car and its occupants. An electronic voice said: "Good day. Please state your name and business. "

  Shannon rolled down her window, leaned out, and waved. "It's me, guys! And a friend of mine. Call off the dragons. "

  "Yes, ma'am, " said the loudspeaker. "You may proceed to the house. " The gate opened and tire spikes that had protruded from the roadway sank back into metal receptacles. The Ferrari drove along a winding landscaped drive.

  "God help the poor bastard who has to read the water meter, " Victor said.

  "Don't be silly. That's all done remotely in Illinois. "

  "Where does he hide the antiaircraft batteries?"

  "In a wing of the stable. "

  "You're serious?"

  "Don't talk like a fool, " she snapped, "or I may just regret bringing you out of the New Hampshire boondocks and stick with Gerry after all. "

  Victor stomped on the brakes, turned, and seized her by her upper arms. Coercion smote her like a cannon shell and she cried out with hurt and rage. He ripped aside her outer mind-screen as if he were tearing paper and blasted her strong inner shield to painful shards that swirled like a dizzy kaleidoscope while she cowered, furious and de­lighted. He saw her true. Saw the hate for Kieran O'Connor overarching every other conviction in her soul and her need of him and him alone tightening the knot of purpose.

  "Bitch, " he laughed, setting her free.

  They drove on, and the house came into view. It was a modernistic pile with cantilevered balconies, built partly into the eastern side of a hill and heavily shrouded with gnarled white oaks and Scotch pines. Protruding from one part of the roof was a structure like a blind control tower surmounted by antenna arrays. Victor could see at least three other big steerable dishes lurking among the trees at the crest of the hill.

  "Is that where it is?" Victor asked, mentally indicating the tower.

  "Yes. He calls it his study. To the rest of us, it's the command post. In the beginning it was only a glorified communications and data-retrieval center. Over the years Daddy kept modifying and adding to the equipment. He built a redundant control center in the subbasement, too — and there are underground cables connecting his equipment with three commercial satellite uplinks, in case anything happens to the antennas here on the grounds. "

  They pulled up to a side door and Victor switched off the engine. Shannon's window was still open. A hot wind smelling of roses and freshly sprinkled grass mingled with the last cool gasp of the Ferrari's air conditioning.

  He said, "Your father would have to be an idiot not to know that our relationship isn't a simple matter of business. "

  "He knows, " she said calmly.

  "He knows I'
m here today?"

  "I'm supposed to be converting you to his point of view. Since my little white body has thus far proved to be a less than irresistible in­ducement, I've been ordered to tempt you with more exotic thrills. "

  Victor laughed. "Let's get on with it. "

  Inside, the mansion was silent and apparently deserted. Shannon ex­plained that with her father out of town, the domestic staff did only routine housekeeping chores. The domestics, the security people, and the grounds keepers were all bonded operants who by temperament, intelligence, or education were not suited to executive positions in O'Connor's organization. They lived in comfortable homes of their own in what was called The Village, in a distant corner of the estate. Shannon told Victor that some of the staff had belonged to the ménage for more than twenty years.

  They went up in a big service elevator to the third floor and passed down a carpeted hallway. From the vantage point they could see the sky darkening as the storm approached.

  "Let me explain the background of what you're going to see, " Shannon said. "You know that Psi-Eye inspired the superpowers to end their nuclear arms race. But most of the small nations that had tactical nukes stashed away balked at giving them up — especially after Armageddon showed that the network of EE surveillance couldn't possibly prevent terrorist-type attacks by small forces. The little nations such as South Africa and India didn't give a hoot whether Psi-Eye publicized their arsenals or not. They rather welcomed letting their enemies know they were in a position to retaliate. "

  "Especially after the Jihad got rolling in Asia and Africa, " Victor acknowledged. "Can't say that I blame them. "

  "Some defense analysts in America and the Soviet Union worried about the situation and proposed a worldwide cooperative satellite de­fense system. In the States, so long as the Democrats controlled Con­gress and the White House, there was talk but no action. The Russians got a system on the drawing boards when Pakistan and Iran started sponsoring revolts in their Central Asian republics — but their civil war broke out before they could carry the plan further. "

  Outside the windows, the oak trees were showing the bottoms of their leaves in the rising wind. A sepulchral rumble was barely percep­tible through the thick walls of the house.

  Shannon said, "When President Baumgartner was elected in 2000, there was a clear and pressing need for satellite defense. Everybody knew that South Africa had medium-range ballistic missiles with neu­tron warheads all emplaced to stave off any black invasion from the north. And everybody also knew that it was only the fear of more fallout that kept the Jihad forces from using regular nukes on Russia. The Jihad didn't have neutron bombs yet, but it seemed only a matter of time. And with delivery systems becoming cheaper and more easily available, virtually any little nation would be in a position to commit nuclear blackmail inside of a decade or so. "

  They stood in front of the armor-plated door that lacked a knob or a latch. Shannon pressed her right hand against the inset golden plate and a chime sounded.

  "For years now, Daddy's agents have abetted terrorism and acted as provocateurs, just so this satellite defense system would be built. His people helped the Armageddon fanatics get their bombs. They triggered the civil war in the Soviet Union and aided the Jihad movement in Africa. When Daddy's candidate, Baumgartner, won the White House, it was politically acceptable for him to resurrect the part of the old Reagan Strategic Defense Initiative that was most workable — the ground-laser satellite-mirror system called Zap-Star."

  Shannon addressed the door's voice-print identifier. "Open up!" The metal panel slid aside and the two of them entered Kieran O'Connor's sanctum. An enormous banked control console took up one entire five-meter wall. "When Zap-Star is complete in another year or so, it will consist of 150 battle-mirror satellites and twenty ground batteries of multiple excimer lasers. UN peace-keepers will control the system from a new command center being built on Christmas Island in the Pacific. The Zap-Star system is being financed primarily by the United States, Europe, Japan, and Korea. China has built its own part of the network independently, twenty mirrors and two ground bases... but all the other satellites utilize guidance systems manufactured by Daddy's mul­tinational aerospace conglomerate. And each one has built-in override. " She indicated the console. "Zap-Star can be accessed from here, cutting out the Christmas Island syscom. "

  "Good God!"

  Shannon sat down at the computer. "None of the weaponry is on-line yet, of course. When it is, the access code will be Daddy's great secret — the one I presume he'll offer to sell you in exchange for your soul. " She laughed. "Would you like to see how the thing works?"

  She spoke into a command microphone and summoned graphics to a big liquid-crystal display. "The white blips on the map represent the UN's worldwide emplacement of excimer laser batteries. The green blips are the Chinese bases. Notice the two red blips!... Those are Daddy's insurance policy — one in Saskatchewan and one in the Maldive Islands south of India. His own ground bases, in case the others should be destroyed — say, by the Chinese. "

  "What do the ground lasers do — beam death-rays to the battle-mirrors?"

  "It's not quite like that. In case of a nuclear-missile launching or other hostile action, the excimer fires bursts of coherent light at the high-orbit relay mirrors. They're the large blue blips. These transfer the beams to smaller, highly maneuverable battle-mirrors that have already locked on to targets. Depending upon the nature of the beam — and it can be varied from moment to moment — the target can be pierced or fried or simply have its electronic or electrical equipment rendered useless. The last option is the most versatile! A certain type of beam can mutilate the microcircuitry of chips and turn them into useless junk. It can deactivate missiles, aircraft, ships, Asats — anything at all with computer guidance. And it can do more! It can short out auto ignition, radio, video, even light bulbs and hearing aids and solar-cell watches and calculators. The Zap-Star system is virtually the perfect defense against any sort of modern warfare. "

  Victor said, "Or the perfect offense. "

  "Oh, yes. Just imagine a modern city deprived of all electrical or electronic equipment. It would be the literal return of the Dark Ages — the end of modern civilization. "

  Victor gestured at the mass of equipment. "What's to prevent us from blowing the whistle on this setup?"

  "You'd never be able to prove that it's anything except a horrendously expensive control system for some kind of satellite link. None of the incriminating details — the target cities, for instance — are accessible. There's no law against having descriptions of Zap-Star in your data bank — especially when your companies manufacture the guidance systems for the satellites. As for the uplinks... they could control any kind of satellites — weather-eyes, surveyors, comsats, relays. Daddy owns at least forty-six. "

  "When will the Zap-Star system be completed?"

  "Late 2013. A very unlucky year — or lucky, depending upon your point of view. "

  Victor was frowning, thinking furiously behind his mental barrier. "There are at least a dozen holes in your father's scheme for using this thing to conquer the world. The most blatant, of course, is the Chinese connection. They control their sats and they have their own excimer batteries. Suppose they were able to use that sigma-field thing as shield­ing —"

  "Daddy doesn't want to conquer the world. "

  "Then what —"

  She whispered into the microphone. The screen went black.

  Victor felt his heart constrict. "But that's lunacy!"

  "It's his vision of the Absolute, " Shannon corrected. "He'd tell you that Zap-Star was a tool for world domination and offer it to you in exchange for your help in destroying the operant leadership. He knows that they must be onto him. " She paused, then got up and smoothed the skirts of her white dress, smiling slightly. "He may even suspect who has betrayed him. But he's trapped by his love. He still hopes to convert me to the way he's chosen. And the child... "

  "Lov
e!" Victor made the word an obscenity.

  She turned away from him. "I don't come to this room very often. Just when I need to remember, to strengthen my resolve. He did it to me here... And always, when it's time to go, I'm afraid. What if the door won't obey my voice and open? Or what if it does open — and I find him standing outside, waiting, asking me to reaffirm the bonding?" Could I deny him? Have I already accepted?

  No! he said; and she clung to him, letting the fear and fury drain into ice-glazed oblivion.

  In time, she did open the door. And of course the corridor was empty. Through the window they could see that the grounds of the mansion were being wracked by a violent thunderstorm.

  "My Ferrari!" she wailed, all the rest of it forgotten. "I left the win­dow open!"

  They ran for the elevator together, laughing.

  25

  LEWISBURG, PENNSYLVANIA, EARTH

  6 AUGUST 2012

  THE SUPERINTENDENT OF the federal prison opened the door to a small bare room with a metal table and two chairs. "Will this do, Professor Remillard?"

  "Is it bugged?" Denis asked in a level tone.

  The superintendent chuckled. "Oh, no. There's the usual window in the door — but Agent Tabata has already made it quite plain that no observers will be required during your consultation with the prisoner. Shall I have him brought in now?"

  "Please, " said Denis. He put his briefcase on the table and opened it. When the superintendent left the room he quickly took out four objects that looked like featureless gray business cards and placed one in each corner of the room. If there were bugs, they were now deaf and blind.

  Denis had had to explain to the President that there was no way that a redactive probe could be accomplished at long distance. In EE, it required arduous effort to overhear declamatory telepathy — the "loud­est" kind — passing among persons being observed. Probing their inner­most thoughts, a virtuoso trick even with the examinee at arm's length, was totally impossible. The only way that Denis could check out the amazing accusation of Gerry Tremblay's wife would be to probe him in person. The probe might or might not succeed, depending upon the psychological tone of Tremblay. As to the ethics of the situation... Denis had given the matter careful thought. Since legislation that would permit mental cross-examination was in the process of being ratified, Denis would accept it as de facto — with the understanding that none of the information he obtained would be used as direct evidence in any case, nor would Denis himself be called to testify as to his findings.