Part 34 (2/2)

ELIZABETH: You could be dirigent.

AIKEN: Who said I was returning?

ELIZABETH: Aren't you? I took it for granted.

AIKEN: Take yourself for granted, sweets. The gate project is a long, long shot at a murky target. I have plenty of other troubles to keep me amused. Such as regaining my own sanity and powers before that d.a.m.ned Abaddon lands in Europe.

ELIZABETH: Aiken ... I thought you knew about Marc's djumping ability. [Image.] He came here. To Black Crag. He doesn't have the faculty under control yet, but it won't be long before he's able to teleport anywhere in the world.

AIKEN: Then Hagen was telling the truth. I hoped he had it wrong-that Marc was only pulling some sophisticated bilocation stunt with his augmented fa.r.s.enses and creativity.

ELIZABETH: He materialized inside my chalet.

AIKEN: Jesus! Did he threaten you?

ELIZABETH: No.

AIKEN: I can give you a sigma generator. Hagen doesn't think Marc will be able to d-jump through its force-field.

ELIZABETH: Thank you, but no. I must deal with Marc in my own way.

AIKEN: You have a way? Nice! I wish I could say the same.

We've been hiding under Hagen's big SR-35 sigma for our conferences here so Marc couldn't farpeep or join the party-and I'll use the thing in Goriah to s.h.i.+eld the Guderian project. But the King can't live permanently inside a friggerty silver fishbowl ... When Marc gets his act together, he'll put the screws on me proper. And I'm scared, sweets. When he finds out about the gate project, he'll try to burn me-and maybe succeed.

ELIZABETH: He's much weaker than he was before. Felice injured both his body and his brain.

AIKEN: That's what Hagen and Cloud said. But they didn't know how seriously his barebrain wattage had been diminished.

Even if he's ninety per cent wrecked, he's probably more than a match for Me right now! ... Not to mention the help he'll get from them.

ELIZABETH: [Concern.] Them. You're not talking about the Remillard children and their friends, or the older RebelsAIKEN: [Quiet laughter.] ELIZABETH: ... There's been no improvement in your subsumption?

AIKEN: I'm losing ground, if anything.

ELIZABETH: Symptoms?

AIKEN: I haven't slept since the fight with Nodonn. Ten peris.h.i.+ng days. I can barely fly, let alone carry anything. My creativity is shot except for illusion making. The redaction is just about wiped out. I can still coerce. (Wouldn't you know?) I can fa.r.s.ense, but it hurts like h.e.l.l.

ELIZABETH: I never would have known. You have a very deceptive psychosurface.

AIKEN: [Desperate weariness.] You mean, dear lady, that I am tricky.

It may be my last bastion of survival. If I don't get some help soon, I'll be stark raving mad before Truce.

ELIZABETH: Oh, Aiken.

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