The next morning, still shackled, uncomfortable, but not actually mistreated (to Quaid’s surprise), they were hauled into Cohaagen’s fancy office. He had assumed that Richter would beat on him even if forbidden to kill him, and that Melina would be fair game for the goons, as a beautiful and helpless (because bound) woman. But they had been given food and a chance to use sanitary facilities, and left alone (but monitored) to sleep. Naturally they had not talked, knowing that their every word could be examined for evidence against the Rebels. So it had been uncomfortable but not bad.
Now he knew it was going to get bad. They had been saved for Cohaagen’s direct interrogation, and Quaid knew that the man would do whatever he thought was required to achieve his ends. Richter was a thug, brutal but without the imagination to generate real mischief. Cohaagen, in contrast, was a white-collar criminal, less violent in manner but ten times as dangerous overall.
Go tell your species…
Tell Cohaagen? Not likely! The man did not have the interest of the species in mind, let alone the interest of the galaxy. He wanted only what was good for the Mars Colony, as defined by himself: in short, power for Vilos Cohaagen. The No’ui science represented power beyond that known by man; it must not fall into the hands of this petty dictator.
In fact, Quaid expected to suffer horrible torture, rather than yield that information. Cohaagen did not know about the alien message center; it had been hidden amidst the tangle of twisting paths, so that only a person with a special curiosity and persistence would find it. Hauser had been assigned by the Resistance to discover the meaning of the riddle of the alien artifact, so he had been motivated; otherwise he would not have been so persistent. Also, fresh in the realization of his love for Melina, he had done it for her, to make her trust him, and love him back. No, he would not give the No’ui message here!
Make it understand that the choice is upon it. For mankind had either to ignore the artifact, as it had done so far, or to invoke it and use it positively, as the No’ui intended. If man tried to use it negatively, it would be destroyed. That was what the nova symbol meant: a nova was a flaring star, in effect an explosion, destroying what was around it. The alien complex would explode, perhaps by setting off that hydrazoic acid buried beneath the subterranean glacier, taking itself and the local human colony with it. That was the choice: to use it or lose it. But Cohaagen would only pretend to use it properly; he would instead make a scientific monopoly of it, using that power to make himself the dictator not only of Mars but of the entire human species. That was what the aliens hadn’t counted on, being unfamiliar with duplicity. To them a thing either was or was not; they could not grasp even the relatively innocuous concept of “figurative.” They were literal-minded creatures, hatched with their knowledge genetically encoded, their values set.
We put the matter in your hands. That was the essence of their conclusion. They had given their message to one person—the one who happened to come to their message center—and trusted him to do what was right. They had made him their emissary, and he intended to honor the trust they had extended. He wanted mankind to become a trader, one of the significant species of the galaxy. So he was going to keep the secret from Cohaagen, letting the alien complex be destroyed rather than perverted. He was prepared to give his life and Melina’s to that end. He knew she would want it that way. He had told her nothing so that she could not give away the secret herself.
Melina! Suppose Cohaagen had her tortured in Quaid’s presence? Surely Cohaagen would, if he thought that would be effective. Could Quaid hold out against that?
There was only one answer: he had to.
Maybe they would be lucky, and Cohaagen wouldn’t know what Quaid had discovered. After all, it seemed he hadn’t known before, when he set up the memory implant and sent Quaid to Earth. The traitor Benny hadn’t caught on, otherwise he wouldn’t have killed Kuato. He had thought the only secret was that the alien artifact made atmosphere, and how to turn it on. That was the least of it!
Quaid’s thoughts were interrupted by men tramping into the office, carrying a body. They dumped it onto the conference table. It was Kuato, the shriveled head growing from George’s chest.
Cohaagen stared down at it. “So this is the great man!”
Richter and Benny, standing guard over Quaid and Melina, chuckled. They were pleased with their accomplishment. They had unriddled the mystery of the leader of the Mars Liberation Front, and destroyed him and his organization.
Quaid saw Melina wince. She still blamed herself for the colossal mistake of bringing Benny into the inner sanctum. Yet how could she have known? Benny had been on her side, helping her cause, helping them escape pursuit. Benny had been a pro; that said it all. It would be better to blame Quaid, or his Hauser-aspect, for not recognizing another pro when he saw him.
Cohaagen gingerly examined Kuato’s head. He grimaced with disgust. “No wonder he kept out of sight.” He turned away, nodding to the goons, who picked up the body and hauled it away. Another goon wiped off the table. Cohaagen was fastidious about appearances; he didn’t want any ugly smears remaining.
Then Cohaagen walked over to where Quaid sat, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, congratulations, Quaid,” he said jovially. “You’re a hero.”
Quaid’s reply was to the point. “Fuck you.”
Cohaagen, oddly, was not annoyed. He smiled. “Don’t be modest,” he said. “Kuato’s dead; the Resistance has been completely wiped out; and you were the key to the whole thing.”
Quaid saw that Melina was regarding him ambivalently. She had never been quite certain of his loyalty to the Resistance, and wasn’t certain now, despite her love for him.
“He’s lying,” Quaid said. They might both be about to die, but he wanted her to believe in him.
Cohaagen spoke to Melina. “Don’t blame him, sweetheart. He didn’t know anything about it.” He smiled. “That was the whole point.”
Now Melina was confused—and so was Quaid. What was the man talking about?
“You see, Quaid, the late Mr. Kuato had an uncanny ability to detect our spies,” Cohaagen continued. “We didn’t know he was a telepath, or whatever. None of our people could get near him. So Hauser and I sat down and invented you—the perfect mole.”
“You’re lying,” Quaid said. “Hauser turned against you.”
“That’s what we wanted you to think. Actually, Hauser volunteered to be erased and reprogrammed. That was after he failed to get to Kuato the first time. This canny bitch—” Cohaagen nodded toward Melina, who responded by making a gesture as of spitting in his face. “She never took him into the catacombs. She took him directly to the Pyramid, never saying a word about the entrance there. Just that empty cave they never used. When he dropped in the pit, she didn’t flee to Kuato, she went back to the dome and her cover. It was all for nothing; they just didn’t trust Hauser. Nor far enough. We needed some way to nudge them into complete trust.”
“Get your story straight,” Quaid said, disgusted. He pointed to Richter as well as the shackles permitted. “He’s been trying to kill me since I went to Rekall. Harry too, and Lori, back on Earth. You don’t kill somebody you’re trying to plant.”
“Richter wasn’t in on it,” Cohaagen said. “The others were under his orders.”
“Then why am I still alive?”
Cohaagen smiled with a certain pride. “He’s not in your class. And we gave you help. Benny here…”
Benny made a little mock bow to Quaid. “My pleasure, man.”
“The fellow who gave you the satchel,” Cohaagen continued. “That little bag of tricks that came in so handy.”
Quaid didn’t accept this for a minute. “I don’t buy it. Too perfect.”
“Perfect, my ass! You pop your memory cap before we have a chance to activate you. Stevens gets killed tracking you down at that hotel. Meanwhile, Richter here is fucking up everything I spent months planning.” He glared at Richter, who looked down. “I’m amazed it worked.”
Quaid nodded his head, reluctantly impressed. It did make sense. Suppose Hauser had been an agent for Cohaagen. Then when Melina didn’t lead him to Kuato, despite their more-than-friendly relationship, he would have had to find a way to write himself out of the part. So he could have faked a fall and waited for Cohaagen’s men to “capture” him, setting up the fancier ploy. His dream had been of the last episode before the memory implant took over his life.
But two things had happened they hadn’t counted on. He had realized that he really did love Melina—that what might have been pretense had become real—and he had discovered the No’ui message. That would have changed everything!
But then why would he have volunteered to undertake the sophisticated mission that was highly risky for himself (even without Richter’s interference), only to betray the woman he loved and the No’ui who had converted him to a higher cause? That made no sense! So Cohaagen must still be lying.
Was this just another little ploy to try to get him to tell something useful to Cohaagen’s program? Or did Cohaagen suspect that Quaid knew more about the alien artifact than he let on, so this was building up to some way to get that information? That wasn’t going to work!
“Well, I have to hand it to you, Cohaagen,” he said, as if giving up. “This is the best mindfuck yet.”
“Don’t take my word for it, Quaid. There’s a friend of yours here who wants to talk to you.”
“Don’t tell me,” Quaid said. “Let me guess.”
Cohaagen turned on a television screen. Sure enough, Hauser appeared, in the same clothes and setting as in the previous disc message.
“Hello, Quaid,” Hauser said. “If you’re listening to this, that means Kuato’s dead and you led us to him. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” He laughed, and there was a hint of cruelty in it that was foreign to Quaid’s present nature. “Sorry for all the shit I put you through, buddy, but hey, you’re just a program.”
Quaid’s last wall of resistance crumbled. It was true: Hauser had volunteered! But why? Why betray Melina, and…?
“I’d like to wish you happiness and long life, old pal, but unfortunately that’s not gonna happen,” Hauser continued on the screen. “You see, that’s my body you’ve got there, and, well—” The figure shrugged, almost apologetically. “I want it back.”
Quaid was chilled. If his present identity had been made up, then it could be unmade. The villainous Hauser would take over again!
“Sorry to be an Indian giver,” Hauser said. “But what’s fair is fair, and I was here first. So adios, amigo, and thanks for not getting yourself killed.” He smiled, in the manner of a victor who is being generous to his fallen foe. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll meet in our dreams.”
The videodisc message ended.
Quaid, in shock, looked at Melina. She was as appalled as he, realizing how they both had been betrayed.
But still the nagging question: what, then, of Hauser’s love for Melina? Why would he have done this to her? And the No’ui message—
Then he made the connection. Hauser had known better than to tell Cohaagen about the No’ui—but how could he avoid it, since he worked for Cohaagen? Knowing that Cohaagen would probably pick up Melina and torture her to make her tell where Kuato was? He had needed a way to save Melina, and to conceal the alien secret. Until he found the right people to tell it to.
So he had conceived a way to do both. He had volunteered for a mission that not only required that Melina be left alone, so that she would be there for Quaid to find, but that would suppress the alien message in his mind! He had fed Cohaagen a bill of goods that caused Cohaagen himself to hide the thing he would have wanted most! He had hoped that Quaid would remember the No’ui before he led Cohaagen to Kuato. And he almost had.
Almost.
Now, in restoring Hauser’s fuller memories, they would surely discover his secrets too. It was possible to do a memory implant without reading the prior memories; they were simply suppressed. It was a bit like recording a new message on an old videodisc; nobody cared what was being written over. But to restore the old—they would have to check it at every point, to be sure it was accurate. No secrets there!
Cohaagen, having wiped out the Rebels, would gain much more than he had dreamed of. Because Hauser’s desperate ploy had not quite worked.
Damn!
The worst of it was that Melina would never know what Hauser had tried to do. That somehow hurt worse than the very tangible mischief Hauser’s failure had done.