Charles Sheffield - Aftermath

But what were the others? A lamp? A waterfall? A spoon? A bed?

As the seconds passed, Celine was able to confirm her impression of the previous evening. The headquarters of the Legion of Argos was buried deep underground. They were going up and up and up. She could hear the groan of the cable and the rattle of other elevators passing them. She was convinced after a while that she could feel the air pressure changing.

Finally, as the urge to ask where they were going became irresistible, the elevator slowed to a halt. The door creaked open. David urged her forward.

They were in a dim-lit room about fifteen feet square and seven feet high. The far wall was one great window. Two men were standing by the glass, looking through into another room at least three times the size.

David walked Celine forward as the two men turned. He whispered to her, “Observers,” and to them, “This is Celine Tanaka, here to see the school.”

The men wore the usual gray uniforms, but their insignia were different. The scarlet talon was present, but next to it was a lurid human eye. The men nodded to Celine. “Very good to meet you in person,” the shorter one said. He spoke in the same hushed voice. “We saw you with the leader. As a matter of fact, you are on delayed relay right now. Come and watch, but speak softly.”

He turned back to the window without offering an explanation of his words. Celine, moving to his side, found she was looking at a brightly lit room full of small children. From her position they were all in profile, while on her left and facing the youngsters stood a woman about forty-five years old. The desks were solid wood, handmade, and like everything else in the room a generation or more out-of-date. The learning equipment was noninteractive, obsolete long before Celine had begun her own formal education.

Behind the woman, and finally making sense of what the man had said, hung a big projection screen. Celine had a moment of shock when she saw her own picture displayed there. It was replaced a few seconds later by Wilmer’s image. Pearl Lazenby’s voice accompanied the pictures, saying: “… directly here, to the sanctuary of the Legion of Argos. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to see them unite with our cause. I ask you to express your gratitude and pay tribute to the surviving members of the Mars expedition.”

As the scene expanded to include everyone on the platform, with Pearl Lazenby in the center chair, the sound of applause from the projector’s sound system swelled. Celine saw the children in the room hesitate, then start to clap their hands at a signal from the teacher. She wondered. Why hadn’t anyone turned to stare at her and the men with her? Then she realized that this dim-lit room made the window into a one-way mirror. The children could not see anything on her side of the glass.

That was equally true for the teacher. Did she know when someone was watching? She was saying, with what Celine heard as a note of slight nervousness, “Now, children. You have heard our leader tell us that these people came as messengers from Heaven. You remember the prophecy of the Eye of God. What does it say? ’When the word comes from Heaven . . .’ “

After a moment of hesitation, the chorus of young voices picked up the prompt. “ ’When the word comes from Heaven, the Hour of Judgment will be here. We will go forth as one, and we will save the world from sin.’ “

They continued chanting their lesson, but Celine was no longer listening. She had noticed that the wall at the back of the room, behind the children, contained a window. It stood at an acute angle relative to her position, so she could see only a thin oblong of what lay beyond; but that oblong showed the dazzling white of undisturbed snow, with a twig of evergreen shrub angling across the top corner.

The school was not in the deep subterranean caverns of the Legion of Argos’s headquarters. It was all the way up on the surface, where children in the break from lessons could go outside and play in the sun.

If these children played at all. There was no sense of joy in the schoolroom. Uniformed seven-year-olds had the grave faces of old men. The teacher was nervous. Her expression had the uncertain misery of Celine’s mother when her father came home late. Would it be flowers and a kiss, or rage and a black eye?

“You stay out of this, young lady, or you’ll get a damn sight more than you bargain for.” Celine had flown a hundred million miles to escape that memory, and it was still here. She shivered and turned to the people standing next to her. Their faces were stern and unsympathetic. Observers. Two of them, for a single teacher. On the watch for any sign of deviation in what was being learned — and taught.

“Is she on some kind of probation?” she whispered to the man on her right.

He frowned, as though she had said something ridiculous, and shook his head.

Celine backed away from the window. It was not just David, it was all of them. The leaders of the Legion of Argos were out-of-this-world mad. Rigid in outlook, intolerant of minor differences. In other centuries they would have led the Inquisition, tortured the heretics, burned the witches.

And Pearl Lazenby, pleasant, sympathetic Pearl, was worst of all. She set the rules for everyone.

David was walking toward her. “Did you see what you want to see here? If you would like to speak with the children, they would consider it an honor. We would have to approach through a different route, of course, because the observation rooms do not have direct access to the school.”

Celine breathed deep and distanced herself from her own emotions. “It would be interesting. But if we have only one hour I would rather see something else.”

“What?”

What? “Can we look at — the kitchens?”

He stared at her. “You want to see the kitchens?”

“If that would be all right. If it’s permitted.”

Celine knew what she really wanted to see: whatever lay beyond that other window. But he must not suspect.

. . . our time is close, our tide approaching the flood. Within one week, I promise action.

To counter extreme evil, extreme actions may be necessary.

Pearl Lazenby was busy and could not be disturbed when they arrived back at the deep levels. Celine pleaded fatigue and was allowed to eat and return to their sleeping quarters. The young man assigned by David to take her there treated Celine with great respect, but his continued armed presence outside made her status clear.

She remained there alone for over an hour, until Jenny arrived. They sat side by side on two cots and spoke in whispers.

“Reza and Wilmer?”

Jenny shook her head. “Weren’t with me. I never even saw them. I wish Reza were here, I’m worried about him. He’s changed a lot since Zoe and the others died. Last night it was all Pearl Lazenby this and Pearl Lazenby that. Where did you go?”

Celine summarized her trip to the school and the kitchens, and her reaction.

Jenny nodded. “Same with me. Organized, and clean, and scary. This isn’t their only facility — they’re scattered across at least three states.”

“The big question is still, how many? It’s clear they intend to cause trouble.”

Jenny put her head close to Celine’s. “I think I know. I was shown a group training for military action. They only looked about twelve years old. I asked if everybody had training like this, and my guide said yes. I asked how many people reported to the next level up, and he said it was always ten people. I didn’t dare to get too nosy, but as we were leaving I asked the number of levels between this group and the leader. He told me, six. That means they have more than a hundred thousand people, trained and under arms.”