I jogged around onto a side street and entered the alley. The mews building sported brass carriage lamps. A single gate beside it gave admittance to the communal garden. The telltale on its card-lock box glowed green, and when I tried the gate, it swung open silently.
Her back porch light hadn’t been turned on and the lower part of her house was dark. Blinds were drawn in two illuminated rooms on the second floor.
I crept up the steps. Before I could touch the bell pad, the door opened and I saw a tall, slender woman silhouetted against indirect light from an inner hall. She wore a tightly belted crimson velvet robe over a high-necked white nightgown. Her blond hair was still long, as I had remembered it. Freed from its chignon, a single glossy braid fell over her right breast.
She stared at me, austere features shadowed, eyes wide and touched with twin sparks from the carriage lights, lips parted in a soundless cry of trepidation. My grotesque face seen on a small phone viewer lacked the impact of solid, atrocious reality.
“It’s me, Joanna,” I said gently. “It really is me.”
“Yes. Come in.” Her voice was steady. She stepped aside as I entered and then locked the door. For a few seconds we stood still, studying each other in the half-light like cornball characters from an old grade-B science-fiction movie: the attractive woman in her nightclothes and the monstrous alien intruder.
Then she said, “Phew! Why didn’t you tell me you’d been hiding in a sewer?” Before I could reply, she strode off briskly. “Come with me. Before we do anything else, you’ve got to have a long, hot shower.”
I followed meekly through the kitchen and up the back staircase to a sumptuous bathroom on the second floor. “Put those nasty clothes of yours into the valet and use the DISINFECT setting. You’d better program a serious germkiller bodyscrub, too. The shower has an enormous spritz selection—although I can’t say I’ve ever had to use the industrial-strength option myself. There are guest toiletries in the large cabinet. Toothbrushes and the like.” She paused and gave me a quizzical look. “Umm … you do still have teeth?”
I burst out laughing and bared them in an un-Haluk grin. They felt like my originals, even though the spaces between them appeared to have expanded. Then I playfully stuck my tongue out at her as well, and instantly regretted it. Earlier, I’d vaguely felt that the organ was a tad abnormal. Now the mirrors in the bright bathroom revealed that it had become obscenely long and agile. I could easily touch the underside of my chin with it. And it was colored a rich plum-purple.
“Holy shit!” said Joanna DeVet, Morehouse Professor of Political Science. She backed away from me into the hall. When I made a piteous noise she forced herself to smile. “It’s not such a bad tongue. Rather handsome, as those things go. Can you unfurl it like a chameleon and catch flies?”
“I’ll have to give that a try one of these days,” I said wretchedly.
“I’m sorry, Helly. I shouldn’t joke about it. It’s just so …”
“Alien,” I said softly.
“Yes,” she agreed. “Are you hungry? Can you eat human food?”
“My last meal was rat stew, dished out by feral Native Americans living in waterfront catacombs. I’m famished.”
“I have half a tandoori chicken with spicy yogurt sauce, nan bread, and rozkoz-poppyseed coffee cake from Granowska’s.” Joanna hated to cook, but she knew the best takeout and home-delivery places in the city.
I said, “The chicken sounds just great.”
“Is there anything else you need, dear?”
She said it so sweetly, with such natural, heartfelt concern, that I felt my throat tighten and my eyes begin to fog.
Oh, Joanna. Why had I been such a self-centered fool?
But there was no time now for sentimentality. In spite of her composed demeanor, my former wife was undoubtedly in a state of profound emotional turmoil. I had to keep her calm if she was going to be of any use to me.
Use.
That was the only reason I’d come to her, right? Not for asylum and solace, but for help in resuming my quixotic crusade against the Haluk. So I’d better get on with it …
“Does your phone have Phase XII encryption capability?” I asked.
“Yes. I’ve never used that, either.” She sighed. “I suppose we’re about to go into serious cloak-and-dagger mode.”
“Call the Interstellar Commerce Secretariat Forensic Division. Ask for the emergency voice mail of Chief Superintendent Beatrice Mangan. She’s the head of the ICS molecular biology department and an old colleague of mine who knows all about the Haluk demiclone threat.”
“Yes, I know who she is. She was one of the most impressive witnesses during Delegate Sontag’s open committee sessions, testifying about the demiclone corpse.”
I went on. “Show your face and transmit your iris ID, then leave a message asking Bea to call you at home as soon as possible, max encrypt.”
“Do I mention your name?”
“Absolutely not. You’re going to have to be my mouthpiece for a while until I gain credibility. Somehow, without telling Bea anything about me or my situation, get her to come to your house early tomorrow. It’s imperative that she not be followed, and I don’t want her to risk coming at night. The Haluk are certain to have her under surveillance. Ask her to bring a portable genetic assay kit with her, and a phone with a datalink to ICS.”
“I see where you’re going. Your DNA will identify you positively.”
“Even better. Bea can confirm that the Haluk embellishments in my genome are the result of an illegal demicloning procedure.”
“What will you do then—go to the media?”
“Eventually. There are more urgent matters to take care of. I’ve been in a dystasis tank for seven months, and I need to get back up to speed on current events before I make any drastic moves. For that I could use your help, Joanna. If you’re willing.”
“Of course. I have a large library of reference materials here. I can provide you with whatever information you need.”
“As soon as Bea Mangan is ready to vouch for me, I intend to show myself to Delegate Efrem Sontag and my close associate Karl Nazarian—perhaps to Eve and my father as well. We’ll work together to decide the best way of blitzing the blueberries. Don’t worry, we won’t use your house as our command post. I won’t endanger you, any more than I have already by simply coming here.”
“I’m willing to take risks, Helly,” she said simply. “If it will help you.”
Her unexpected loyalty struck me mute, shamed me.
“Joanna. Thank you. But I’ve got to get out of Toronto. The capital’s a hotbed of Haluk. Everyone knows that their embassy staff and trade delegation number in the thousands. And I’d bet the ranch that a sizable percentage of them are out beating the bushes for me right now.”
“What about the Haluk impostor using your identity? He’s been very plausible, you know. I certainly would never have doubted him.”
“The active Fake Helly demiclone isn’t an alien. He’s a transmuted human. The Haluk made two copies of me.”
“Don’t you want to expose him at once?”
“I’ll need help blowing the whistle on this guy. He’s more than a Haluk apologist and secret agent—he’s dangerously insane.”
“You know that for a fact?”
“Oh, yes. And I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
“Who in the world is this monster of depravity?”
“Alistair Drummond, the former Gala CEO. He didn’t die in Arizona.”
“Good heavens!” She thought about it for a moment. “How … absolutely perfect.”
“I’m sure the Haluk thought so, too, when Drummond presented his ingenious little scheme to their leadership. They also realized that the man is a ticking timebomb, and planned to replace him with a more trustworthy Fake Helly as soon as possible. A Haluk demiclone. That won’t happen now. My second clone is very, very dead.” I couldn’t help the grim satisfaction in my voice.
Joanna
gave me a look. Political scientists aren’t slow to grasp unpleasant tactical realities. “So the Haluk are stuck with Drummond, who no doubt has an agenda of his own.”
“Damned right he does. When he tricked Eve and the Rampart board into making him president of the Concern, he put himself in a position to do immense damage. With the Galapharma consolidation, there are now nearly six thousand planets under Rampart control. Drummond has access to databases for all of them. He can control their starship fleets, their internal and external defenses, even their management rosters. For all we know, he might have put Haluk demiclone moles into top executive positions in Rampart Tower and on significant numbers of Rampart worlds in both the Perseus Spur and the Orion Arm. He’s had plenty of time. Personnel reshuffling during the consolidation would have made his actions seem logical. I’m sure he’s also used his position as Corporate Syndic to promote the Haluk cause effectively among the Assembly Delegates.”
She nodded. “He’s been very ardent in his defense of the aliens, personally appealing, utterly convincing. Certainly no one would ever suspect him of being—” She touched the side of her head.
“A flaming nutcase? Hardly. When he organized the Rampart takeover conspiracy, he was motived by hubris and overweening ambition. Now, I suspect he’s out for revenge—against me, against Rampart, perhaps even against the entire human race. We can’t simply discredit Drummond and expect him to quietly surrender. He’ll find ways to fight back the minute he realizes he and his Haluk allies are being seriously threatened. There may be only one practical way to deal with him.”
“I see.” And she did, too. “You and your friends are going to be facing some tricky realpolitik decisions. The Assembly vote on the new Haluk planets is expected very soon. Perhaps within two weeks.”
“We’ve got to shoot that bill down, Joanna.” I spoke with desperate urgency. “The aliens can’t be allowed to bring vast numbers of colonists into the Spur. With Drummond’s help, they’d find a way to seize all of Zone 23. And that’s not even the worst of it. The Haluk have a secret base in a Sagittarian asteroid. Last April their pirates were using it to hijack Sheltok transactinide carriers. By now the damn place might have been expanded into a staging point for an all-out attack against our starship fuel supply.”
“Helly, this is appalling! You’ll have to go to the media at once. Concentrating your efforts on the Assembly members themselves might not be effective. The Hundred Concerns want the Haluk colony bill to pass. A majority of the Delegates will bow to their pressure unless the constituency absolutely forces them to do otherwise.”
“Through media exposure.”
“Yes. The Commonwealth constitution has provisions for a citizen referendum under certain circumstances. But the Assembly itself must—”
I interrupted her, suddenly overcome by a crushing fatigue that was both physical and mental. “Later, Joanna. Please. I know Sontag and the others will welcome your expert advice. We’ll talk about all that tomorrow. But for now, just convince Bea Mangan to come over here in the morning. Before I can do anything else, I have to prove that I exist.”
“I’ll call her at once.” Impulsively, she extended her hand. I took it very carefully in my inhuman blue one, bowed my head over it in an archaic gesture of courtesy that seemed instinctive, and released it.
Joanna blinked, then let her gaze fall. “I’ll bring the food to my little sitting room at the end of the hall.” She turned away and went down the back stairs.
I closed the bathroom door and stripped, inserting my grimy clothes and footgear into the valet machine as she’d instructed me. Then I stepped into the shower and did my best to wash everything away.
It didn’t work, of course.
She was waiting when I padded into the sitting room in my stocking feet. The soaked and battered Adidas hadn’t survived the valet’s attentions and the car-coat was beyond salvage; but the other clothing I’d appropriated from Dan was fresh and clean again.
A thought of my wayward brother had flitted briefly through my mind as I dressed. I’d wondered if the Haluk had interrogated him yet. There was nothing he could say that would help the aliens find me, but they might persist in the questioning anyhow. Too bad for Dan …
“You smell much better,” Joanna remarked. “Don’t tell me you used the lavender bath oil.”
“I needed some soothing aromatherapy,” I said, trying to sound casual. “You know I always liked lavender. It makes me feel relaxed.” And horny, worse luck.
Three couches were grouped in a U shape before a tall holoscreen. She’d programmed an underwater scene, blue-black tropical water with a school of gleaming opal moonjellies rising and falling languidly amid ghostly spires of coral. The music was strange, soft blooming chords that might have been Olivier Messaien.
“I like the holo,” I said. “It almost reminds me of home. Kedge-Lockaby, that is. The freesoil Perseus world where I lived. Except the planet’s sea never evolved jellyfish.”
“Is it a very beautiful place?” Joanna asked me.
“Oh, yes.”
“And you were happy there.”
“Not at first. Later, when I got my head back together, I was very happy.”
The food waited in a covered hotdish on a low table in front of the couches. I sat across from her, noted the unfolded vidphone sitting beside a carafe of coffee and a bottle of Jameson whiskey.
“Bea Mangan hasn’t returned your call yet?” I inquired.
“Yes, she did. She’ll be here tomorrow morning at seven, with the genetic assay equipment. She said she’d take a taxi from ICS Tower.”
“That should be safe enough in daylight if she takes precautions.”
“Helly … I’m afraid she guessed the truth. I’m sorry if it upsets your plans. I never hinted—”
“It’s all right. I might have known Bea would figure it out. After all, she’s a cop.”
“She wants to talk to you right away. She said it was extremely urgent.”
“Rats.” It had to be bad news. I knocked my fist against my ridged forehead, trying vainly to jump-start my brain. Switched the phone’s viewer option off and went through the encrypt rigmarole. Bea picked up on the first buzz.
“Beatrice Mangan here.”
“It’s Helly. The weird voice goes with the rest of my Halukoid ensemble.”
“So the aliens subjected you to the preliminary genen procedure—”
“Yes. And I escaped. Pardon me for not doing a vis-à-vis, but I’m really tired of being blue and hearing about it.”
Her warm, maternal face was full of sympathy. “How awful for you. I’ll do whatever I can to help. You know that.”
“Thanks, Bea. Just verify my DNA tomorrow. After that I’ll be getting in touch with Ef Sontag and some others to work out a plan of action. I haven’t decided yet whether to go to the media right away or wait a couple of weeks to make my big revelation just before the Assembly vote on the Haluk colonies. In either case, I’d like you to redo my genetic profile in public, as part of the big show.”
“Helly, that’s why I wanted to speak to you immediately. Joanna mentioned the Assembly vote, too. But you won’t have two weeks to prepare for it. Ef Sontag called me earlier this evening and told me that the Conservatives suddenly forced cloture on the Haluk colony debate. They passed a resolution calling for a vote on Wednesday, the day after tomorrow.”
“No!” I whispered. “No no no.”
There goes the ball game: Haluk–300, Humans–0.
Bea said, “On Tuesday, tomorrow, Ef and his group will be allowed to present a summary of their opposition. He asked me to appear as an expert witness reiterating the Brown Fleece cadaver evidence. The pro-Haluk committee will then do their own final summation. The Speaker will call for the vote promptly at 1000 hours on Wednesday morning.”
“I know why the debate was squelched,” I said dully. “The Haluk leadership hit the panic button after I escaped. They were afraid they wouldn’t recapture me befo
re I blew the lid off.”
“I’m sure you’re right about that. The Servant of Servants and the entire Haluk Council of Nine are here in Toronto. I’ve seen them myself in the Assembly Chamber VIP observation gallery.”
“The Servant would be in a position to add threats to the usual Haluk lobbying efforts with the Hundred Concerns. The corporate Syndics squeezed the pocket Delegates to force the early vote. Shit! This probably means that a majority of the Assembly will approve the colonies, too.”
“Ef thought so. But I think you should talk to him, Helly. He’s spending the night in Government House with his staff, working on last ditch tactics. Perhaps—”
“Sorry. That’s a no-go. I’m totally exhausted. Too strung out to think straight.”
The metaphoric black pit yawned in front of me, and oblivion had never looked so appealing. I’d go into hiding, fight the impossible fight some other day …
But Bea was saying, “Why don’t I go to Ef early tomorrow, break the news about your return, and ask him to come along to Professor DeVet’s house with me?”
“If his office has a demi mole—” I objected.
“All of Ef’s people give DNA samples every week, and he has stringent security monitoring. There’s no mole. If the Haluk do have his offices under surveillance, it can only be the crudest kind of corridor peeping. I can get him out of there cleanly, Helly. Trust me.”
“I do … But damn it all to hell, Bea! What can we hope to accomplish in one day? Ef can present me to the Assembly as Exhibit A and I can give a nice little speech. But would it really make any difference in the voting?”
Joanna suddenly said, “Pocket Delegates, Helly. Rampart’s own.”
Stupid stupid. I didn’t get it. “What?”
On the phone, Bea echoed, “What?”
I activated the speaker option and Joanna spoke louder.
“There are a substantial number of Delegates beholden to Rampart now, following the Galapharma consolidation. Those votes can be swayed if you undercut Drummond’s influence immediately, by removing him from the syndic post and replacing him with an ally. Can’t you think of some sneaky lawyerish way of doing it so you wouldn’t have to confront the impostor himself?”