A Season for Slaughter

Chapter 78 Dwan

I must have been out all day. By the time I fluttered back up to a state resembling consciousness, sunset was a horizontal lattice of red light slanting through the trees. The effect was eerie. Clouds of dust filled the air and made it difficult to breathe. Overhead, choppers were clattering like hovering tornadoes. I wasn't in my tent anymore. I was on the ground. People were rushing around me. People I didn't recognize. Unfamiliar uniforms. I levered myself up onto my elbows. We were in a scorched clearing, the stink of cordite in the air, an absolutely perfect circle-instant landing field, carved by a daisy-cutter dropped from a chopper. This one was filled with military gear of all kinds soldiers, spiders, machines, prowlers, crates of equipment, pallets of ordnance.

"What's going on-?" I tried to ask, but no one would stop to talk to me. I grabbed at every passing figure. "Help me-" I cried. "Someone help me." I was ignored. I began screaming

"We're being evacuated, calm down," someone said. "You're going out on the next chopper, don't worry." In the distance, I could hear the sound of gunfire and the muted roar of torches. Acrid smoke was wafting up over the treetops. And then I heard the other sound, a many-voiced sound, all purple and red, and chirruping in anger. The battle was getting closer.

"We're being attacked!" I cried.

"It's all right," somebody said. "We're holding the line. You're perfectly safe. You're going out on the next chopper. We're just waiting for a daisy-cutter. They overran the other clearing."

And then I was alone again, waiting. Somehow I dragged myself up into a sitting position and looked around. I was tied to a stretcher. There were stretchers on either side of me. I couldn't identify some of the bodies; they had already been bagged. Two stretchers down, though, I saw Shaun-either dead or unconscious. He didn't look good. Something had broken him up pretty bad.

"Lie d-down," said a thick voice from behind me.

I turned to look. "Dwan!"

She was still wearing her hurt and angry expression. "You sh-shut up, Mr. Shim McCarthy. You j -just sh-shut up and stay d-down." Her anger muted her stutter.

"Dwan-listen to me. I'm sorry. I was a stupid jerk. I was wrong to say what I did. I wasn't mad at you, I was mad at myself and I said some cruel and angry things. You understand me, don't you? You know that people sometimes do things they don't mean because-well, because they're confused. Can you understand that?"

She blinked at me, confused. She shook her head. "You are n-not a very n-nice m-man."

"What was your first clue?" I asked. She looked puzzled. The joke was beyond her.

"Listen to me," I said. "I need your help. Lizard needs your help. General Tirelli."

"I d-don't w-want to help you," she said. "I d-don't like you."

"I'm sorry that you don't like me. In a minute, I think you're going to like me even less-and I don't have any way to make it up to you."

"I d-don't understand you."

"I'm talking to the massmind now," I said, staring directly into Dwan's face. "I know you're using her. I know that you've been peeking out through her body since the day you implanted her. There's no way you could have given her an augment without also giving her an implant. She doesn't know it, though, does she? But I do-"

"You're c-crazy," said Dwan, but her tone was so different, I knew it wasn't her speaking.

"Dwan called me Jimbo. Only one person in the whole world ever called me Jimbo, and now he's part of the massmind, and now the massmind calls me Jimbo. Ted, I know you're in there. Stop wasting all our time and help me."

Dwan opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. For a moment, she just grinned at me blankly. A string of drool came from her thick lips. This was the real Dwan-Dwan without strings. Maybe there never had been a Dwan, only a meat puppet too stupid to live without help. Oh God, that was a dreadful thought! I hoped it wasn't true. Although I didn't know which was better, being just smart enough to know you're mentally disabled or being so unconscious that you couldn't tell. For some reason, I wanted Dwan to have consciousness, so I could beg her forgiveness. That might let me feel a little less terrible. And then I realized I was still being selfish. Oh, hell-even trying to rescue Lizard was a selfish act. So what? Was there anything in the world that wasn't selfish? At least this way I was putting my selfishness at the service of humanity, wasn't I?

Abruptly, Dwan said, "Okay, Jimbo. What do you want?"

"I need a phone. Patch me through to Randy Dannenfelser."

"That's not possible," Dwan said thickly.

"Bullshit. You and I both know it's possible. The massmind is the biggest consumer of network bandwidth in the world. Connect through a synthesizer if you're so damn worried about your secrecy. But I'm trying to save Lizard's life."

"Jim, she's dead-"

"Do you have any proof of that?" I was afraid of the question, more afraid of the answer.

"No, but-"

"Then patch me through, goddammit, and quit wasting Dwan's time. She doesn't have a lot of strength, you know."

Dwan went blank again. It must have been quite an argument. I wondered who was arguing with whom. I wondered who I'd even been talking to.

Suddenly, Dwan's face took on a new expression. The amazing thing was that I recognized it. "This is Dannenfelser-"

Oh my God! An exhilarating and awful realization swept over me. I stared at Randy Dannenfelser's personality peering out of Dwan Grodin's body. The sensation was eerie.

I gulped and said, "This is McCarthy. I've got a terminal."

"It's too late," Dwan said. "We've lost too many prowlers, a third of our strength. I can't spare it."

"You promised-" I started to say, then realized how stupid that must sound. "Listen to me, Randy, I don't have time to argue. Just release one prowler to the network, right now, give me the code number, I'll pick it up. I promise you, I'm going to make you a hero. Channel it through one of your own operators, tell him to keep his hands off the controls, and you can take the credit. Just do it."

Dwan shook her head. "No. Forget it. I'm disconnecting now."

"Randy-wait! If you do this for me, I'll tell you something you desperately need to know."

"There isn't anything that I desperately need to know. Certainly not from you. You flatter yourself."

"You're implanted," I said quickly. "If you don't believe me, hang up the phone. Go ahead-you can still hear me talking in your ear, can't you? Even though you've broken the channel? That's because the massmind is implanting my voice directly into your experience."

It was a gamble. Would the Telepathy Corps let him hear my words? Would the massmind cooperate? The Teep Corps had an agenda of its own.

Dwan looked terribly uncomfortable. She scratched her nose; then she started feeling her head.

My God. It worked. What was the Teep Corps doing?

"You can't feel it, Randy. You're touching your nose, you're scratching your head, I can see you-"

"You're peeking into my head!"

"No, I'm communicating to you through Dwan Grodin, the talking potato. Sorry, Dwan. The massmind is providing the connection. She's echoing your expressions, your movements, everything. We can use Dwan as the terminal for the prowler. Now, release it to me, please-"

"I don't believe this," said Dwan. She had both her hands over her ears. "This is amazing. This is fucked. I'm going to-I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Believe it, Randy. And stay on purpose. I need that prowler now."

"No, it's too late," Dwan/Randy said. "I could have done something before-but you disappeared."

"They had me drugged, Randy. Dr. Shreiber is going to pay for this, I promise you."

Dwan scratched her left tit. She looked momentarily puzzled. "This is a very curious sensation," she said. I wasn't sure if it was Randy or Dwan speaking. "Urnk," she said. Then, "It looks like one of our prowlers is having a problem -number fourteen-I'm pulling it off the circuit for a diagnostic check. If there's another attack, however, I'm putting it back on-line immediately."

"Thank you, Randy. I'm going to give you a big hug and a kiss when I get back-"

"You do and I'll court-martial you. I promise you. I don't want you ever touching me again." Coming out of Dwan's mouth, the words sounded eerie.

"I promise," I said. "Anything you want."

Dwan nodded curtly, and then Randy Dannenfelser was gone.