down a side street. They were chanting something, though I could not make out what it was. Behind them, a howler roared into view, its cupola roof narcodart gun cutting down the young people as they cursed the government, the enemy government, and anyone else who came to mind.
Before the light turned, I saw the howler roll over a young girl, snapping her back like kindling. That was not standard procedure, by any means. And before I could chalk it up to an accident, the driver of the armored vehicle rammed a boy no older than seventeen, crushed him against the steel pole of an arc lamp, and moved on.
I went through the light to avoid the uproar.
I had to detour around the elevated highway ramp I had intended to use, for there were several hundred people on it, setting up roadblocks in a display of civil disobedience. I noticed that for the first time there were adults with the peace criers. In fact, it seemed that there were more adults than young people.
I took the next ramp, went up, and struck for AC at my top speed. In the time since I had heard the morning news, what could have happened to open the adult ranks like this? My heart beat too fast, and I felt a gnawing urgency to do something, anything. But what?
The only thing I could do was esp Child, find new weapons, make our side stronger so that, if there was a war, we would win and at least a semblance of normality would return in which Melinda and I could carve our own niche and be alone.
I suppose such an attitude was not noble. But war itself leaves no room for nobility. Only the clever survive. And not always do they survive intact By the time I reached the government building, I had made my decisions. I loved Melinda. I feared Child. He could throw me out-and perhaps he could swallow me up. There was something behind his repeated warnings to leave his thoughts alone. Something to do with the G association I had chanced upon the day beforesomething to do with God. I could not sacrifice myself in that strong, mutated subconscious. Yet I could not permit the war and its destruction to touch my life, to end the first warm relationship I had ever had with a woman. Life was only now worthy of living. I could not permit the Chinese to snatch it away from me. So I would go in his mind this last time, rip loose everything that I found and send it up. Then I would get out, collect my cash, and beat a hasty retreat. I would tell them first thing when I got there: after this, the job is ended, go in peace.
As with most plans, nothing went that way.
They were waiting for me when I got there. Morsfagen was the center of a flurry of dispatches. Messengers boys came and departed, carrying sheafs of paper. He signed and checked and rejected, and somehow managed to keep track of what was going on with Child at the same time.
Harry fidgeted nervously with his hands, tearing at his fingers as if they were detachable. There were bags under his eyes; the old tic had reappeared in his left cheek; his hair was uncombed.
I esped out to see what was troubling him, breaking the rule which I had established of my own accord. I violated him.
On the surface of his mind, it floated in horrid detail.
The thought symbol his psyche had given it was a bloated body floating in a pool of blood. Beneath the image, I read it: WAR. The rumors were not just rumors any longer. Brushfire stuff had gotten hotter, though the details seemed vague in his mind. A black, rotting corpse, floating in clotted pools of blood
Extremely shaken, I sat down at the table and looked across at Morsfagen. There were tiny beads of perspiration on his chin and forehead. His big hands were full of communiques, and they seemed to shiver just the slightest bit.
Damn them! Damn them all!
'The details?' I asked.
'Alliance troops attacked the Chinese division which had crossed the Amur River, drove them back into Chinese territory. Forty-seven Chinese killed. Four Japanese. Seven Alliance troops: two American, one British, and the rest Russian. An hour later, Zavitaya ceased to exist. No radio in or but. The nuke missile site there does not respond to calls. Belogorsk reports a tremor and a play of odd lights in the sky. Seismographs say it was a pocket- bomb, a very low-yield nuke. The troops at the border no longer report back. The Asians have moved into Russian territory with a vengeance. No confirmation yet. But you can bet on it.'
'I'll help,' I said.
'You're damn right you will.' His face was not pretty.
'Is he ready?'
Morsfagen looked at Child. 'Tranced,' he said. 'We were waiting for you before administering the Cinnamide.
What have you come up with overnight? What do you think about yesterday?'
I shrugged. 'Nothing more than what I've already said.
He threw me out because I was reading some thought stream he did not want me to see. It was easy for him, because I never expected it. I was still underrating his potential. I won't do that again.'
'Certain?'
'As certain as I can be.'
'How is that?'
'Very.'
'Let's begin, then.'
'Some things have to be done first,' I said. 'Wake him from the trance. Tell him I have not been here yet. Tell him I've disappeared and that, until I'm found, you'll have to go on without me. Tell him you'll be interrogating him while he's drugged and that he better come across if he knows what's good for him. Ham it up a little. But make it sound convincing. After he is tranced and drugged again, I'll go in secretly. Maybe he won't even know that I'm there.'
A black, bloated body (Melinda) floating
Damn them to Hell!
Morsfagen attended to removing the mutant from the room and going through the procedure I had suggested.
'Are you sure of yourself, Sim?' Harry asked. He sounded as if he wanted me to quit. But we both knew that was impossible. Only Child could develop the ultimate weapon, a weapon that would make war obsolete. I had to go in there until he formulated it-possibly urge him into it if he was unwilling. But there was no backing downnot with the world and Melinda hanging on everything that transpired in this room.
They brought Child back in ten minutes. He was tranced and be was drugged.
The world was heavy on my shoulders and Death was walking with me? ?and? ? like a cat with cotton feet, I went quietly, quietly, quietly
Like a ghost in an old house, I went without form.
Like the breezes of spring, I walked softly.
There was no echo of my steps, and the labyrinth was wanner than usual. The walls were actually unpleasantly hot to the touch, a strange change from the clinging cold that had infested the place. I rounded a bend and saw the Minotaur sitting on his haunches, unaware of my presence.
He was reading a leather-bound Bible, completely absorbed in whatever the verses had to tell him.
Slowly, so as to disturb nothing, I passed. He never looked up.
Pasiphae, here is your unholy child.
Minos, your labyrinth is ugly. It needs a paint job and some common comforts.
Theseus, keep your weapons girdled to your hip, for there will be no killing of a sad and unpretentious Minotaur.
The pit was a tangerine color, pulsating with mind-heat which coursed upwards, washed the rim, flowed down the stone corridors, evicting the leeching cold. The center of the pit was a fierce white dot.
I reached out and grabbed the nearest thought. It was a weapon. But it was nothing that could cure the world's ills, no ultimate dragon as I sought.
A formula to cause ratlike mutations in unborn babies
A beam that could dehydrate living tissue, make a living body into a dry, dead corpse in seconds
There were many of the G association thoughts, several different progressions of them which led toward one distant point whose nature I could not quite ascertain? ? an inordinately large number of G thoughts. I was interested in exploring their source and their destiny, but they did not seem to be what I needed.
