should have known this was a bad idea. You only see the children as extensions of yourself. Someone to follow in your bloody footsteps. And what's all this crap about them leading the Family? You're not the Campbell; Robert is. His children will lead the Clan, if any will.'
'I could have been the Campbell if I'd wanted. My father was the previous Campbell. The position was mine by right if I'd wanted it. I just chose not to.'
'Because you didn't want the responsibility. You've never cared about anyone but yourself.'
'I care about Evangeline! I'd die for her!'
'Death,' said Adrienne. 'That's all you know about, Finlay. Dying for someone is easy. Living for them is much harder. Would you change your life for Evangeline, for your children? Give up who you are, what you've made of yourself, for them?'
'I don't know what you mean,' said Finlay.
'No, you don't. That's what's so sad. I think you'd better leave now, Finlay.'
'What?' He gaped at her. 'But… I only just got here. You can't just throw me out. I didn't mean to shout. I was upset. Don't do this to me, Adrienne. There was so much I wanted to say. To you, to them.'
'I think you've said enough. It's not for you: home, and family, and children. You wouldn't know what to do with them. You'd break them without meaning to. You always did play too roughly, Finlay.'
'Addie… please. Don't make me go. You know how much this means to me!'
'Do I? I thought I did. I hoped I did. But I don't think I ever really knew you, Finlay. There were so many yous to choose from. But in the end I think they were all just masks, faces to show the world so they wouldn't see the real you. So they couldn't hurt you. Maybe Evangeline got past the masks. I don't care enough to try anymore. I think you're trying to die, Finlay, searching for death like a lover, and I won't let you take the children down with you. It's time to go, Finlay. Leave now. Please.'
And faced with his wife's cold, implacable voice, and his childrens' tears, and words that cut him like knives, he'd turned and left. Walked away from all the things he'd thought he wanted. He shut the front door behind him, knowing he could never return. Because there were some fights even he couldn't win. The children weren't his future. He didn't have a future. He'd always known that. He'd just tried to forget it for a while, because he wanted to so very much.
He walked home alone in the middle of the crowds, and people in the streets saw his face and hurried to get out of his way.
Diana Vertue, now only occasionally Jenny Psycho, was hard at work again in the computer-records section of the newly established Esper Guild House, in the Parade of the Endless. The Houses existed to train, succor, and politicize espers, and to provide sanctuary for those in need. Diana didn't feel at all in need of protection or succor, and she had no interest in esper politics, but she did need access to the esper underground's extensive computer files. Over the past few centuries the underground had built up a massive database on the theory, practice, and history of all esper abilities, a library of knowledge far more extensive than anything available anywhere else. And Diana had a lot of questions she needed answering.
Though if the esper underground had known exactly which questions she was pursuing, they would undoubtedly have moved heaven and earth to keep her far away from their computers. So Diana hadn't told them. She hadn't wanted to upset them.
There was a cautious knock at the door, and then it eased open just enough for a servant's head to peer carefully in. People in the Guild Hall had learned the hard way not to interrupt Diana when she was working, without very good reason. Her Jenny Psycho persona could still erupt occasionally if she was annoyed enough. As a result, people walked very softly around the infamous Diana Vertue, and had as little to do with her as possible. Which suited her just fine. She turned slowly in the swivel chair and gave the unfortunate servant at the door her best daunting glare. He paled visibly, and had to swallow hard before he could deliver his message.
'Beg pardon for disturbing you, most illustrious, revered, and very calm senior esper, but the head of the House asks again if you would be so good as to speak with him concerning the… nature of your current research. He's sure he could be of help if you would only—'
'No,' said Diana. 'I don't think so.' Her voice was harsh and grating, distressing to the ear. She'd ruined her throat and vocal chords screaming endlessly in the terrible detention cells of Wormboy Hell. Diana could have had her voice repaired, but had chosen not to. It made a useful psychological weapon. She fixed the servant with her best unwavering glare until he started twitching. 'I'll speak to the head of the House when I'm ready, and not before.'
'It's just that… well, you've been tying up our computer resources for three weeks now, and the list of people waiting to use them is now so long that some have been asking whether they should make arrangements for their descendants to inherit their position on the list.'
Diana didn't smile. It would have undermined her image. 'Tell them patience is a virtue. Anyone who doesn't feel particularly virtuous is always welcome to complain to me in person.'
'Can I at least persuade you to attend regular mealtimes? Snatching ten minutes to wolf down a hurried meal in here, when you happen to think of it, can't be good for you. You hardly ever leave this place. You'd probably sleep in here if there was room to fit in a cot.'
'Thank you for your concern,' growled Diana. 'Most appreciated. Now get out of here before I decide to turn you into a small hopping thing.'
The servant's head disappeared, the door closing quickly behind him. Diana smiled slightly. She knew she shouldn't take advantage of her reputation like that, but chances for humor were few and far between in her life of late. He was quite right; she wasn't eating properly or often enough, but the work was so important she often couldn't drag herself away until her body forced her to.
She had to find her answer before someone sufficiently powerful arrived to stop her.
She sighed and turned back to the computer terminal before her. The monitor screen buzzed impatiently, waiting for her to put something useful on it. She was using an old-fashioned keyboard, infuriatingly slow and tiring, but she couldn't risk setting up a direct link to the computers through her comm implant. It would have left her vulnerable to all kinds of things. Diana Vertue was investigating the single greatest mystery of the esper age—the nature and origins of the enigmatic Mater Mundi, Our Mother of All Souls.
No one knew exactly who or what the Mater Mundi was; ask a hundred different people and you'd get a hundred different answers, all of them equally vague. Some said she was the uber-esper, the single most powerful esper mind ever created. Others maintained she was a group of senior espers in the underground working together. To some she was the God of the espers, and those whose lives she touched were considered Saints. They'd tried to make a Saint out of Jenny Psycho, but it hadn't taken.
To those who weren't espers, the Mater Mundi was a dangerous unknown, a menace all the more disturbing because its nature was so unclear.
Diana had her own reasons for distrusting the Mater Mundi. The phenomenon had manifested through her once, uncalled and unexpected, boosting and expanding her esper abilities far beyond anything she'd ever been capable of before. She'd blazed like a sun in the dark pit of Wormboy Hell, binding all the esper prisoners together so they could break out of their cells and fight for freedom. Hundreds of espers had been drawn into her focus, guided by her augmented will, fused into a single, unstoppable force. The gestalt hadn't lasted long, but while it did Jenny Psycho worked miracles.
Afterward, she'd convinced herself she was the chosen avatar of the Mater Mundi, the permanent agent through which the Mother of the World would manifest. She believed she was the Chosen One, the leader destined to bring her people out of slavery. She was wrong. She found that out the hard way on Mistworld, when she tried to summon the Mater Mundi's presence at a vital moment and nothing happened. People died around her, and she could do nothing to save them. Later, the Mater Mundi manifested through the rogue Investigator, Topaz, and she combined all the espers of Mistworld into a single potent force. And Jenny Psycho found out the hard way that she wasn't who she thought she was.
At the end of the rebellion, the Mater Mundi had pulled together hundreds of thousands of espers, in cities all across Golgotha. She hadn't bothered with a focus then. Just slammed into their minds and used them to do what was necessary. Again, the gestalt didn't last long, but while it did it swept away all opposition to the rebels with an almost contemptuous ease. The Mater Mundi manifested just once more, at the very end, possessing Jenny Psycho just long enough to teleport a handful of useful players into Lionstone's Court.
