Part 81 (1/2)

”Manion!” cried Hagen, and he began to laugh uproariously.

”Why does Alex want us to go back to the Milieu, Papa?”

Cloud asked. Her brother's laughter choked off.

”He wants Mental Man-and you-subordinated to the Unity. He's a deluded fool.”

Hagen brushed this aside. ”So you really do need us after all.

We're the priceless raw material for your Mental Man stud farm-is that it?”

Marc cut him off. ”You and Cloud will be the princ.i.p.al administrators of the project. It will be yours. I'll subdue the host planet for you, give you every a.s.sistance. But the responsibility would be yours. Think very carefully before you refuse it.

Nothing comparable awaits you in the Galactic Milieu. On the contrary.” And his mind displayed a panorama of alarming scenarios that caused the two young people to gasp, then turn incredulously to Elizabeth.

She shook her head. ”I don't know. Certainly not the more drastic hypothesis. The Milieu would never be so unjust. Ultimately, your fate would probably depend upon you. Your mindset and response to the Unity-”

”You mean, we'd have to take our medicine,” Hagen said, ”and swear to be good little neurons in the Galactic Brain.”

”It's not like that!” Elizabeth protested. ”The Unity is love and fulfilment and an end to loneliness. Manion was right when he told you you'd find peace with your own kind.”

But Marc said, ”There's no room in the Milieu for persons whose dreams diverge from the norm-much less persons whose mental potential exceeds the narrow course predetermined for humanity by the exotic races. You are Remillards. You'd be a threat. And unless you submitted to the domination of the Unity you'd be dealt with ... as I was.”

”And don't forget Me,” said Aiken.

”I'd never do that,” Marc replied smoothly. ”Elizabeth told me your history. In spite of your vast latent metabilities, the Magistratum was prepared to dispose of you. I invited you to be here at this meeting precisely because I saw you as my ally, one who would plead my cause to Hagen and Cloud once you understood the truth. I'm not afraid of having Milieu agents come after me through the time-gate. Why should they bother?

The past is.

They know I can never return. I stand condemned.

But you, High King ... What kind of reception would you have if you should go back to the Milieu? Are you ready to subordinate your mind to the will of your inferiors in the Unity? And if you stay here, and a two-way warp is established, are you ready to welcome busybody reformers from the future, backed by the enforcers of the Magistratum? Your rule is hardly a model of enlightened democracy! And the third contingency: closure of the gate after the disaffected have fled the Pliocene.

At the very least, you stand to lose many of your most talented subjects. There are even uglier possibilities.”

Aiken grinned. ”Including the one that all this havering may be moot, if the Firvulag are right and Gotterdammerung is about to fall.”

Suddenly the little man in gold was on his feet, holding Hagen's wrist with his left hand and Cloud's with his right. All three of them were inside a s.h.i.+ning envelope of psychocreative force.

Marc tensed. He stepped forward, his eyes alight with fury.

He said: It is not your decision to make!

”I've made it mine.” Aiken was no longer smiling. ”Do you care to dispute the point?”

The aspect of Abaddon faded as quickly as it had appeared.

Marc shook his head with apparent unconcern.