Charles Sheffield - Aftermath

“We have to collect information—” Celine broke off as the outside door swung open.

Wilmer and Reza marched in. Without a word from either of them, Celine could see that they were in very different moods. Wilmer was cheerful and good-humored, what she called his after-lunch look. Reza’s eyes were dark and distant.

“About time,” Jenny said. “I waited in that lunch place for nearly an hour. Where were you?”

“Meeting with Pearl Lazenby.” Wilmer sat on the cot next to Celine. It sagged under his weight. “For more than two hours. She wanted to know how I made my ’prophecies’ about what will happen to the Earth fifty years from now.”

“I hope you didn’t tell her,” Celine said.

“Of course I did. I explained about electron degeneracy and heavy ion emission and gas cloud optical depth. I don’t think she understood one word, but she seemed impressed by what I told her. She wants me to stay here. I would be her special adviser.”

Wilmer’s words confirmed all Celine’s suspicions. She wanted to say, That does it, we’re getting out of here now, before she makes us all her converts. But her built-in worry button had been pushed. Caution came with it. She could not forget how Zoe had rushed to action, and its terrible effects.

She forced herself to think. They were still weak after their long journey through space; snow on the surface would make travel hard, even if they could reach it. Celine had an idea that she was reluctant to discuss generally, because of Reza. All signs of the old mercurial Reza Armani had vanished. Now he spoke hardly a word. He seemed to be off in a different world.

So she said only, “We are very lucky to have found a place where we can eat and rest and get our strength back. We should make the most of it. And we need to compare notes.”

Jenny picked up Celine’s unspoken message. She stood up. “They’ll be coming for us again in a couple of hours. We might as well take a rest.” She took Reza’s hand. “Come on. I want to hear what you’ve been up to.”

He said nothing, but he did not resist as she led him through to the other bedroom. It was Wilmer, easygoing and unperceptive Wilmer, who after the two were gone frowned at Celine and said, “Is Reza all right?”

“Why shouldn’t he be?”

“I don’t know. Seems to be behaving a bit funny, that’s all.” He scratched his head. “Well, it’s been a hard few days. He’ll be all right once we’re out of here. So what were the two of you up to this morning?”

Thank God for Jenny. Calm, logical, and understanding, she provided Celine’s sanity check for the next forty-eight hours. They tried to stay together during the sightseeing sessions, as servants of the Legion of Argos took them through miles of underground tunnels to visit the dormitories, workshops, and depressingly well-stocked arsenals. Electric power came from two nuclear plants, meticulously maintained. Celine checked the radiation level outside a reactor pressure vessel and found it hardly above background. Better than USMA industrial standards.

The Legion of Argos members were doing more than show, they were showing off. The mood was jubilation and anticipation. The followers of Pearl Lazenby were going to carry out, in just a few days, their great project — the “holy cleansing,” promised for so many years. Celine and Jenny hid their own feelings, and did their best to express approval and admiration.

Back in their quarters they compared notes on what they had seen and talked again about getting away. At Celine’s insistence they did so with a mixture of cryptic words and gestures, meaningless to anyone who might be listening. There were no signs of surveillance equipment, but with so paranoid a group the possibility could not be ignored.

Celine was pleased with everyone’s improving physical condition, but not with much else. She had been able to think of only one method of escape. They needed a fallback plan. The other big question was timing. They would get only one shot, and they had better not botch it.

Jenny had another worry. Celine learned about it on the late morning of their third day underground. As the two of them were eating in the half-filled cafeteria, she said to Jenny, “Tonight.”

It was a statement, not a question. Jenny took it for granted that Celine was now their leader and made the major decisions. This time, however, Jenny glanced carefully around them and replied, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t feel we’re ready?”

“I’m more than ready. It’s Reza. You haven’t seen much of him except at mealtimes and in the evenings. But I sleep with the man and we’ve talked a lot. Especially about Pearl Lazenby.”

“Do you think she sees him as a possible convert?”

“I know she does — not just him, all of us. Doesn’t Wilmer talk about Pearl Lazenby, too?”

“Of course he does. But you know Wilmer. When it comes to thinking bad of people, he’s an innocent. He believes that Pearl Lazenby is wrong and a bit off the wall, but he doesn’t see real danger in her. Reza has an unstable side, you know that better than I do. If they’re trying to recruit him, and you think he might be vulnerable—”

“It’s worse than that.” Jenny paused, and took another careful look around her. Then she said, louder than was wise, “He’s trying to recruit me!”

It ought to have been a surprise, but it wasn’t. The nagging doubt had been with Celine since the first evening, when Reza stood in the doorway with that enraptured look in his eyes and assured them that Pearl Lazenby was an amazing woman.

“You’ve talked to him?” Celine said. “You pointed out the terrifying side of all this?” She waved her arm, indicating the dead-serious diners and the spotless room.

“I’ve tried. I can’t get through to him. All he’ll talk about is the Legion of Argos and Pearl Lazenby. When we first arrived here I didn’t see how anyone could fall for the Eye-of-God guff. Now I get nothing else. I hoped at first that it was just one of his phases, so he’d come out of it and see through her. But he hasn’t. He’s getting worse. And to trust him with any escape plans at all . . .”

“We can’t. Absolutely not.” Celine stared down at her half-filled plate. She couldn’t eat any more. She knew how Jenny must have agonized, keeping the problem to herself and hoping that Reza would come out of his strangeness. Finally, with a time set for attempted escape, she had been forced to speak. And she was ashamed.

Celine’s own problem was different: How could she organize an escape for four people, when one of them might refuse to go — worse than that, might betray their plans for what he saw as their own good?

“Tonight,” Jenny said suddenly. “You’re right, it has to be as soon as possible. They are getting ready for action, they might decide to move us or split us up anytime. We dare not wait much longer.”

It was going to be hard for Celine to explain that Reza simply could not be trusted. But Jenny was continuing, “Between eleven o’clock and midnight. You and Wilmer will have to take care of the guard, if there is one. You’ve got to do everything quietly. I’ll keep Reza occupied.”

She held up her hand as Celine began to speak. “You are usually the boss, but this is different. It’s too important to run an added risk. Nothing bad will happen to me and Reza — they’ll be glad we’re loyal converts. I’ll tell them that we had no idea what you and Wilmer were planning, you didn’t take us into your confidence.”

Celine opened her mouth, then closed it.

“Eleven o’clock,” Jenny went on calmly. “Not before. And no more discussions about what you’re going to do. That way, I won’t be able to tell them — no matter what.”