The Beasts Of Valhalla

The curare hadn't paralyzed my tear glands.

28

Stunned by the death of Hugo, racked by guilt, I sat in a corner of our dungeon cell and mourned in silence. Garth understood and left me alone.

After dinner we had a visitor-Stryder London. The head of Siegmund Loge's private army was out of uniform; he wore a pinstriped suit under a camel's hair topcoat-they were his traveling clothes, I decided, his 'real people' disguise. In each hand he carried a cylindrical metal canister.

'What the fuck do you want?' Garth growled.

'I came to say good-bye,' the man with the close-cropped hair and hard eyes replied evenly. 'You both have great courage. I have considerable respect for the Frederickson brothers, and I'm sorry things are the way they are.'

'That's touching, London.' Garth turned to me. 'Mongo, don't be rude. Come on over here and say bye-bye to the nice man.'

I got to my feet, walked to the front of the cell. I pointed to the canisters. 'You've got Garth and me in there, right?'

'Yes,' London answered simply.

'You're taking the biosamples to Siegmund Loge.'

London did not reply.

'Where is he, London? Where does Siegmund Loge hang out?' When he remained silent, I shook my head impatiently. 'For Christ's sake, London, Garth and I are probably going to be dead soon. What difference does it make what you tell us?'

'It makes a difference to me. It's a matter of security which is unrelated to the question of your survival.'

'You're a pisser, London-as well as a traitor.'

Stryder London stiffened. 'Does it make you feel better to insult me, Frederickson? I'm not responsible for what's happened to you.'

'You work for the people who are responsible. It makes me feel better to state the truth when everybody else is telling lies, even to themselves. There are no good Nazis; it's not enough to say that you're following orders.'

'I am following orders, but I'm following them because I choose to. I take full responsibility for my actions.'

'You choose to work for these homicidal maniacs? You want to take responsibility for what goes on in Ramdor?'

'My responsibility is to Siegmund Loge, and his goals may be different from what you think they are. You shouldn't take anything anybody around here says too seriously. They're unbalanced, as I'm sure you've noticed.'

That got a hoot of laughter from Garth and me.

'I knew it!' Garth said. 'They are making cheesecake!'

London frowned. 'What does that mean?'

'Forget it,' Garth said with a derisive gesture of dismissal.

'What are Siegmund Loge's goals?' I asked.

Silence.

'It doesn't make any difference, London. You're still a traitor.'

'You're wrong, Frederickson,' the Warrior said in a low voice that trembled just slightly. 'If I were free to tell you certain things, you'd understand-and might even approve of what Siegmund Loge will accomplish. It's for the good of America-the America we used to know, and the America that will exist once again.'

'Oh, yeah; that good old America-the one that sneaks up on its enemies and turns them all-man, woman, and child-into monsters.'

London shook his head. 'No. That's not what Project Valhalla is about.'

'Your security has already been breached, London. The demented delinquent upstairs-the one with the baseball cap-already admitted as much to us.'

'Dr. Siegfried Loge is a brilliant scientist, Frederickson; the work at Ramdor must be done, no matter how unattractive it may appear to you. However, Dr. Loge often has difficulty separating reality from his own personal fantasies. When it comes to his father's ultimate goals, he doesn't know what's he's talking about.'

'Huh?'

'There will be no monsters created-except for the two of you, and that was an accident; a fortuitous accident, but still an accident.'

'Accident, bullshit. Jake Bolesh was plugged into the command network of Project Valhalla, just as you are.'

'You purposely miss my point, Frederickson. What Siegmund Loge is doing is for the benefit of all mankind.'

'You and Hugo must have hit it off real good.'

'Order, Frederickson,' Stryder London said quietly. 'That's what the Valhalla Project is about.'

The statement wafted about in the dungeon air, went in one of my ears and out the other, then came back in and squatted; it was cold. 'Genetic control of behavior,' I said.

'Yes,' London said evenly. 'Everything that's been done, and is being done, is part of a search for the specific genes that control behavior.' 'You may be hunting a ghost. How can you put a net around what makes us individuals?'

'No, Frederickson; the hunt is for those genes which bind us to the group and which compel us to work for the common good under the command of leaders.'

'What leaders?'

'Those men who are fit to lead.'

'I note that you don't say 'elected' to lead.'

'Don't play that silly patriotic game with me, Frederickson; we're both too sophisticated. Democracy is a farce. You're a criminologist, and you know it's a farce. Only fools, phonies, or idiots ever go into politics, and so only fools, phonies, or idiots are ever elected to office. Our society falls apart, and thus the world falls apart.'

'Because our society should lead the world?'

'Of course. I'm a man of peace, Frederickson, and soon we will have peace; we'll have peace because we'll have order.'

'Because everyone will do what the government tells them to do.'

'Yes. The entire world will be a place of peace and order.'

'Under the control of Siegmund Loge, your fuehrer.'

'Under the control of Siegmund Loge, my leader, and the one man best suited to bring our species back from the brink of destruction where it finds itself.'

'Is there a religious angle to any of this?'

'Not really. In an ordered, peaceful society free of stress and delusion, all men will naturally gravitate toward Christ, since Christ is God's Son, and mankind's Savior. However, Jesus taught us that it is right to render unto Caesar what is Caesar's, and unto God what is God's. We are Caesar; with us in command, Christianity will naturally flourish.'

'I think I prefer the version Father feeds his flock,' Garth said drily. 'It has more meat to it.'

'He's getting ready to experiment on those people, isn't he, London?' I asked.

The Warrior shrugged. 'Eventually, yes. Since some initial experimentation will be needed, who better to use than those who will submit joyfully?'

'He already controls their behavior.'

London smiled thinly. 'You'd be surprised how many different types of communes there are, Dr.