They were important people, and they knew it. Finn strode calmly across the gleaming marble floor, looking straight ahead, and the suits changed direction to get out of his way. They gave Rose Constantine plenty of room too. Brett stuck close to Finn, and tried not to be noticed.
Works of real art hung on the walls, and Brett priced them automatically as he passed, even though he knew he'd never be able to shift them. They were way out of his league. The piped music was strictly classical, and the air smelled like a meadow in midsummer. Brett didn't like it. He was strictly a city boy. His fingers just ached to steal something, on general principle.
The reception desk in the middle of the lobby had more computer power built into it than some starports. The receptionist behind the desk was stunningly beautiful, without a trace of visible makeup, but her professional smile as they approached was as cold as her eyes. Brett somehow just knew that the words not without an appointment were engraved upon her soul. Finn stopped at the desk, nodded in an entirely unimpressed way to the receptionist, and then turned to Brett and Rose.
"See that sofa over there? Go and sit on it. Stay there. Don't touch anything or talk to anyone. And Rose; don't kill anyone."
Brett went quickly over to the sofa and sat down, glad to get away from the receptionist. She looked the type to have a gun under the counter, and more security people on call than some minor planets. She also looked like someone who wouldn't be impressed by a mere Paragon; even if it was the mighty Finn Durandal. It was all going to end in tears, he just knew it. Rose sat down beside him, and Brett had to fight the urge to edge away from her. Up close, she had an almost overwhelming presence, seductive and threatening at the same time. Her bloodred leathers creaked softly as she breathed. Brett was very careful not to look at her breasts. She crossed her legs suddenly, and he almost jumped out of his skin.
"What the hell are we doing here!" he said urgently, keeping his voice low. Talking helped distract him. "Only the most trustworthy and creditable people are even invited to join the Transmutation Board. People with years of public service behind them. Solid, upstanding citizens already so wealthy they'd just laugh at any attempt to bribe them. Not the most obvious place, I would have thought, to look for potential traitors."
Rose turned her head to look at him. Brett tried not to whimper. "You're not comfortable here, are you?" she said calmly.
"Hell no! They could offer free drinks and lapdancing, and I still wouldn't be comfortable. This place is full of hard-working, law-abiding, and honorable people, and they make my skin crawl. I don't belong here. Them and me, we don't even live in the same world."
"I know what you mean," said Rose. "We have a lot in common, you and I."
A thought that frightened Brett so much he immediately fell into a shocked silence, and gave all his attention to Finn bracing the receptionist. And was surprised and shocked again when Finn leaned forward and said something confidential, and the receptionists face went white. Her whole demeanor crumbled in a moment, and she started stabbing desperately at the comm panels before her, and speaking very seriously into them. Finn smiled at her, and that just made her try even harder. Eventually she got through to the right person, spoke briefly but urgently, listened, and then nodded fearfully to Finn. He turned his back on her and walked over to the sofa. The receptionist watched him go with wide, traumatized eyes. Brett and Rose got to their feet.
"It's all arranged," said Finn. "He'll see us now. Even though we don't have an appointment."
"How nice," said Brett. "Who'll see us? And what the hell did you just say to that poor girl?"
"Joseph Wallace. He's Chairman of the Transmutation Board. Don't question me, Brett. I know what I'm doing. Follow me, and all will be made clear. Though you probably won't like it."
Nothing new there, then, thought Brett.
A security guard in a very impressive uniform appeared out of nowhere, to guide them where they were going. He recognized Finn immediately, and all but gushed over the Durandal until rendered speechless by an autograph. He led the way to the Chairman's private elevator, which took them directly and very smoothly up to the top floor, where the guard left them. He wasn't authorized to go any farther. A new security guard, in a rather more practical uniform with a lot more built-in armor, took them the rest of the way, to the door of the Chairman's office. He told Finn he'd have to give up his weapons before he could go in. Finn looked at the guard, who swallowed hard and went away. Finn opened the door without knocking, and led the way in.
The office itself turned out to be surprisingly small and cozy, with a few comfortable chairs set out before a strictly functional desk with a computer terminal built into it. Holo scenes of eye-pleasing countryside vistas on the walls, changing at regular intervals. Thick carpet. Really deep, thick carpet. The Chairman came out from behind his desk to shake Finn warmly by the hand. He was tall and well set, with a blandly handsome face and a commanding presence. His suit probably cost more money than Brett had made from selling his Coronation recording, and he'd had his eyelids covered with goldleaf, so that they flashed disconcertingly when he blinked. He shook Brett's hand too, a good firm grip, and hesitated only momentarily before offering his hand to Rose. She just looked at him, leaning back against the closed office door, her arms folded across her chest. The Chairman gave her a meaningless smile, and retreated back behind his desk. He gestured for Finn and Brett to sit down too, and they made themselves comfortable.
"Now then," said the Chairman, concentrating on Finn. "What exactly is it I can do for the legendary Finn Durandal?"
"You can help me depose the King and overthrow the current political system," Finn said easily. "Shouldn't be too big a strain on your conscience, Mister Wallace. You are Neuman, after all."
Joseph Wallace was immediately back on his feet again, his face flushed. "I have never been so insulted in my life! My receptionist tried to warn me, but I couldn't believe she was serious. This is an outrage! If you dare to repeat this calumny in public, I will have no hesitation in suing you…"
Brett barely caught Finn's signal to Rose, but in a moment she was surging forward from the door, a long thin dagger in her hand. She grabbed Wallace by the front of his very expensive suit, hauled him forward over his own desk, and held the point of her dagger a fraction of an inch before his left eyeball. All the color went out of Wallace's face, and he whimpered loudly. Finn was still sitting in his chair, smiling calmly.
"You're Neuman," he said, as though they'd never been interrupted.
"Just like everyone else who matters on the Transmutation Board. Pure Humanity has spent years, and a great deal of money, infiltrating its entire structure. I'm a Paragon. It's my job to know things like that. Don't look so terrified, Wallace. I'm not here to arrest you. I could have done that long ago, if I'd wanted to. But… I had a feeling the information might come in handy someday. Let him go, Rose."
Rose let go of Wallace, made her dagger disappear, and went back to leaning against the door again. Wallace stood where he was, sweat shining on his face, until Finn indicated it was all right for him to sit down again. Wallace all but collapsed into his chair.
"Now then," Finn said easily. "Be a good man, and explain why you and your associates have gone to such lengths to take over the business of the Transmutation Board. Be brutally honest. Or I'll let Rose have you."
"It was necessary," said Wallace, his voice strained but steady. "Necessary to protect the Empire. From the alien scum who'd destroy our human way of life, if they could. The Board chooses uninhabited worlds to be reduced by transmutation to necessary materials. It's part of the Board's charter to investigate these worlds thoroughly beforehand, and ensure they contain no lifeforms of any worth or interest. Dead worlds. Empty worlds. Grist for the mill. We saw that as a… wasted opportunity. Neumen now decide Board policy. For years we have been secretly searching out new worlds with intelligent alien life, and giving them over to transmutation. Wiping out whole species before they become a
threat to us. To Pure Humanity."
"Genocide," said Finn.
"Yes," said Wallace.
"Jesus…" said Brett, but no one looked at him.
"I don't care," said Finn. "The King wouldn't approve of what you've been doing, but I don't approve of the King. So let us work together, you and I, against a common enemy."
Wallace didn't actually relax, but some of the tension went out of him. "I didn't know you believed in the Neuman philosophy…"
"Oh I don't," said Finn. "I don't believe in anything much anymore, apart from myself. We will be allies of convenience, nothing more."
"Everything we do, we do in Humanity's name," said Wallace. "I did wonder, when you came here, whether you knew what we had arranged for this morning's Session of Parliament. We never actually expected it to work, but. . it was a signal of our intent. Our serious intent."
"What is he talking about?" said Brett.
"They tried to blow up the King," said Finn. "It's all over the Paragons' emergency channel. They failed. The Deathstalker saved Douglas. He always was a conscientious sort. Humorless little prig. I'll have to think of something especially amusing to do to him. Carry on, Mister Wallace. You were justifying yourself."
"It was always meant that this should be a human Empire," said Wallace, his voice rising as he warmed to his cause. "Aliens compete with us for living space. They eat our food, breathe our air, live on worlds that should be ours. They undermine our way of thinking, corrupt our beliefs, threaten our Purity. They must be subjugated or destroyed, for our own protection. Before they do it to us."
"Now that really is bullshit," said Brett.
"I don't care," said Finn.
"Well I do!" Brett said hotly. "Some of my friends are aliens!"
Wallace sneered at him. "Yes. You look the type. Degenerate."
"Oh no," Rose said unexpectedly. "That's me." She moved away from the door again, and punched Wallace in the face. His head rocked under the impact, and they all heard his nose break. Blood ran down his face. He put up an arm to protect himself, and Rose grabbed his wrist and twisted it so painfully he cried out. Rose smiled and leaned in close. He tried to flinch back in his chair, but the wrist lock held him in place. Rose put her face right in front of his. "Brett is one of us. And you don't talk to us that way. Know your place, little man."
She licked some of the blood off his face, her tongue moving slowly over his cheek, and he shuddered. Rose let go of his wrist, and went back to leaning against the door again. Brett wondered if he should thank her, then decided it was probably wiser not to draw attention to himself, just then. He thought about what Wallace had said, about what the Board had been doing, for years… and felt sick. He was a thief and a con man and an unrepentant villain, but there were lines even he wouldn't cross. Genocide… cold-blooded murder on a planetary scale… For the first time, Brett had to seriously wonder if he was on the right side…
"You have to make allowances for Rose," said Finn. "On the grounds that if you don't, she'll kill you. Now pay attention, Wallace. And leave your nose alone. You can have your medic reset it after we're gone. You and your Neuman associates will provide me with whatever support I deem necessary, and in return I will bring down the King and replace the exisiting system with one more amenable to your beliefs. Namely; myself. Until then, I and my associates will remain silent about what we know. You're welcome to try and kill me, of course, but if you do and I find out about it, I'll have Rose rip your guts out and make you eat them before you die. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Rose?"
"Love it," said Rose, and Wallace and Brett both shuddered at what they heard in her voice.
"And there are of course hidden records of what I know," said Finn. "Extensive, very well hidden records. The Neumen have a new partner. Get used to it."
"I like this place," Rose said unexpectedly, and they all turned to look at her. Her rosebud mouth stretched into a slow scarlet smile. "So much death in the air… So much slaughter and suffering planned in little rooms like this… I find it all so exciting . . ."
"You really are weird, Rose," said Brett.
"I try," said Rose.
Finn's final stop surprised Brett even more, even though he'd never trusted the man they'd come to see. Brett had never had any time for Saints, especially those created by the media. Angelo Bellini, also known as the Angel of Madraguda, lived very comfortably in a small Church in the most fashionable part of the Parade of the Endless. A Cardinal in the Church of Christ Transcendent, Angelo was rarely off the vidscreen, forever pontificating on some important matter of the day. His uncomplicated charm and bluff honesty appealed to a hell of a lot of viewers, all too many of whom loved him uncritically and hung on his every word, rushing to donate their money to whatever cause he was pushing that week. Brett knew another con man when he saw one, just as he had no trouble recognizing someone who loved the sound of their own voice just as much, if not more, than the message he was supposed to be putting across.
Angelo himself was a medium-sized, more than a little overweight man who saved his impressive Cardinal's robes for public appearances only. In the comfort of his own private rooms, he dressed in flowing robes that he wore unbelted, to help disguise his waistline, and spoke softly, as though saving his voice for more important occasions. He had a thick mane of jet black hair brushed back from a widow's peak, a bushy black beard, and a disconcertingly direct gaze. Brett thought he smiled far too much.
Angelo welcomed Finn and his companions warmly, ushered them into his quietly opulent living room, and made sure they were all comfortable before bustling about organizing coffee and cakes. Finn and Rose declined, but Brett said yes to everything, on principle. His eyes moved greedily over the expensive furnishings and fittings.
"You live well," said Finn, shooting Brett a warning glare.
Angelo shrugged disarmingly. "It's my job to raise funds for good causes. That means playing host to some very important people, sometimes, and I have to be able to put them at their ease. Make them comfortable. So there's nothing to distract them from the message I need to put across."
"Wouldn't poverty and humble surroundings impress them even more?" said Brett, his mouth half full of toffee cake.
"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" said Angelo, not in the least put out. "But in reality, all that does is make them uncomfortable. Even guilty. That they have so much and others have so little. So they throw you a handful of credits to appease their conscience, and leave as quickly as possible, and do their best to never think about you or your causes again. I'd rather seduce them in, like a spider into its web, get them at their ease, and then hit them with facts and figures; make them see how badly their money is needed. How much good a… reasonably-sized contribution could do. Appeal to the head and the heart. You get more out of them through persuasion than you ever could by beating them around the head. Do try the fudge brownies; I made them myself."
"Persuasion," said Finn, not even looking at the fudge brownies. "That's always been your stock in trade, hasn't it; ever since your days as a hostage negotiator, back on Madraguda. But do you find your current vocation satsifying, Angelo? Does it fulfill all your needs? What do you want, Angelo?"
"I want what my Church wants," Angelo said smoothly. "Access to the Madness Maze. It is our principle act of faith. Is that what you're here to discuss, Finn? I confess I can't think of any other reason why such an important figure as yourself should ask to see me so urgently."
"I can get you access," said Finn. "I can put the Madness Maze in the Church's hands, now and forever."
Angelo sat forward in his chair, pulling thoughtfully at his beard, and looked sharply at Finn. "Parliament's will remains unchanged; so that just leaves the King. Your fellow Paragon. Are you saying you can change the King's mind?"
"Even better; I can change the King. And the new King will change Parliament's mind. With the Church's help, I will overthrow Douglas, remake Parliament, and make the Church the power in the Empire it alw
ays should have been."
"This is treason," Angelo said slowly. "The Church… does not interfere in political matters. Never has, never will."
"Not even for guaranteed access to the Madness Maze? Not even for the greatest prize of all; transendence for all Humanity?"
Angelo glared at him. "Get thee behind me, Satan! I will not be tempted!"
"Why not?" said Finn indulgently. "There's no sin in being truthful about what you really want. The Church wants the Maze, and you want to rise in the Church. You want to be in a position to command people, not have to beg from them. You want to be able to make them do the right thing, for once. And when you get right down to it, there's only one devil you need to overcome, and that's Parliament. All those powerful people, so wrapped up in their own small thoughts they can't step back and see what Humanity needs… Can't see the overwhelming importance of transcendence. Support me, and together we'll make them see."
"Just like that," said Angelo, leaning back in his chair and studying Finn thoughtfully.
"No, not just like that," Finn said patiently. "It will take time, and an awful lot of planning. One by one, we'll bring down the people who oppose us and replace them with new people more amenable to our needs. Together, you and I will create and control a new political force, the Church Militant. A Church within a Church, to seize the public's imagination, and grow into a force so powerful that even the high and mighty Members of Parliament will have to bow down to it. And the Madness Maze will be only one of the rewards… I ask you again, Angelo Bellini; are you satisfied with your lot? Your Church? Your life? Or do you have the courage to change not just your life, but all Humanity's?"
"You're wasted as a Paragon, Finn Durandal," said Angelo. "You should be in politics."
"I am," said Finn. "They just don't know it yet."
"Let me tell you my story," said Angelo, and Brett sighed inwardly. Everyone knew the story of the Angel of Madraguda. It had been dramatized several times, and God knows Angelo had told it often enough on the chat show circuit. (Always modestly, of course.) Bellini had been a hostage negotiator. Devils from the Hellfire Club had taken over a Church. Bellini talked them out of killing their hostages. He was so impressed by the courage of the priests involved that he joined the Church, and rose to Cardinal. The media made him a Saint. Everyone knew the story. Angelo could see it in their faces. He smiled briefly. "No, my friends; you only think you know what happened on Madraguda, all those years ago. Let me tell you what really happened."