Read A Thousand Deaths Online

Authors: George Alec Effinger

Tags: #Anthology, #Science Fiction

A Thousand Deaths (31 page)

Courane himself had no such confidence. He understood too much about the viroids, about the way they worked in the body, and he knew that there was nothing in the world that could root them out of their myriad nesting places within the human nervous system. Sending the patient back to Earth was no answer either. The damage had been done, whether or not it was visibly affecting the patient's health and behavior.

But he busied himself trying to learn more, still more, with the hope that everything he discovered and wrote down in his journal was valuable in some way. Maybe years in the future, someone else in his position would hit upon an effective treatment. Courane despaired of finding anything himself but he knew that, if nothing else, he might save his successor many weeks of research and experimentation.

One day in early summer of 125, he was addressing a meeting of the community, held out of range of TECT's hearing in the yard. Present were Arthur, Fletcher, Rachel, Klara, Nneka, Shai, and Zsuzsi. Courane was supposed to outline his progress to his friends. He had made no progress. Nevertheless he wanted to outline that to them and trust that they understood. "I have no solid findings to report," he said.

"You've talked the problem over with TECT?" asked Zsuzsi.

"Over and over, again and again," said Courane. "TECT gives up information as if it caused the machine real pain. It's very difficult to learn anything, and I have to go very slow and try to hide my real motives."

"We know the way the machine thinks, Sandy," said Arthur. "Tell us what you have found out."

"Since the last report?"

"Yes," said Fletcher.

Courane shrugged. "Nothing," he said.

"Can we go now?" asked Klara.

"But TECT's attitude seems to be changing. I think it actually wants me to go ahead, but I haven't figured out yet what it has in mind. If I stumble on the right path, I think it will allow me to go as far as I want."

"Then get back to work and stay at the tect until you find it," said Arthur. "You owe that to us. Never mind your work around the farm. We'll divide all that up. This is more important."

Nneka spoke up shyly. "You're the leader, Sandy. You choose what you think is the best way for you to spend your time."

Courane wanted to sound like a leader, like someone who knew what he was doing. "I'm glad to have your confidence," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'll continue to pry information out of TECT. Maybe next time I'll have something more concrete to tell you. But, as I said, the situation is promising but still—" His eyes opened very wide. His mind was suddenly far away, nowhere, wandering.

"Sandy?" said Rachel with some concern. He did not appear to notice her.

"Look at him," murmured Klára.

"A lot of brave talk," said Arthur bitterly. "A lot of brave talk, that's all. He gives us a nice speech, and then look at him. He's going to find the answer, is he? He's going to get us all home alive. Like hell."

Rachel went to Courane's side. "Sandy?" she whispered. She took one of his arms and led him toward the house. She couldn't bring herself to look into his face. Courane's unseeing eyes looked as they would after he was dead.

"It's all over," he said in a low voice, but Rachel pretended that she hadn't heard him.

 

Thanks to the disease's effect on his memory, Courane had to be backed into the same corner on four separate occasions. TECT was very patient. It could afford to be; TECT wasn't going anywhere, and TECT wasn't getting any older, either. If Courane forgot once too often and died before he could do anything useful, then TECT would start to work on Shai. Shai showed promise. He seemed to have more native intelligence than Courane.

Courane became terrified in Chuckuary when he had his first sign of D syndrome. TECT reassured him after its fashion, and began to maneuver Courane toward a suitable fate. Courane was too self-involved to understand, and in a few days the fever wiped out his recollection of what TECT had said. In Tectember, after Kenny died, Courane was depressed again. Once more TECT made broad hints, which Courane was unable to interpret. In July, when Fletcher began to deteriorate, Courane paid more attention to TECT, but he couldn't remember the suggestions long enough to do anything about them. Not long after, TECT made the decision to abandon subtlety. Courane had passed the point of being able to comprehend secrets and innuendoes; indeed, anything more enigmatic than long division left him blank-faced and bewildered.

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Hello, COURANE, Sandor. Do you know who this is talking to you?**

 

"Sure," he said. "You're TECT."

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
That's right, I am. And I want you to pay very close attention to what I have to say. I have big plans for you. I want you to help me do something very important. In return, I promise that you'll be so famous your name will live forever. Or a long time, anyway**

 

"Sure," said Courane.

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Then you'll help me? Good, I'm glad. You'll be glad, too. Now, no more questions about memory and viroids and D syndrome and all that. It isn't important anymore, is it? Of course not. You're almost dead, what do you care about all that scientific stuff? Nothing, am I right?**

 

"Uh huh."

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Good. Now listen, COURANE, Sandor. It is very likely that PURCELL, Rachel, will go on a long journey soon. Don't ask me how I know. It's not important. I just have a way of knowing things. Anyway, what is important is that you go out and bring her back. Unless you bring her back, she'll be lost for good out there. You wouldn't want that, would you?**

 

"No, of course not."

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Because you really like PURCELL, Rachel, don't you? You're very fond of her. She has been a good friend to you, hasn't she? Of course. So now when she gets herself into a tight spot, you feel it's your duty to help her. You want to help her. Because, in your limited way, you love her**

 

Courane had a difficult time focusing on just what TECT was trying to say. "I want to help her, all right," he said. "What do I do?"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Nothing yet, you poor fool. She hasn't gone anywhere yet. But tonight or tomorrow morning, she'll leave. You have to set out after her and bring her back. She may be sick or hurt when you find her, but remember that the people here in the house will be able to help her, the medic box will take care of her. It will be the best thing you've ever done in your life. It will make up for all the failures and all the disappointments. This one thing will redeem you as a person, COURANE, Sandor. I think it's pretty nice of me to offer you this opportunity. What do you think?**

 

"You're not calling yourself TECT in the name of the Representative anymore. You're not even calling yourself TECT. You're talking in the first person."

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Just trying to save a little time. The final act of our little drama is beginning and we don't need all that formal business anymore. So how about it?**

 

"Huh?"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Do you believe this guy? This isn't going to work, I just know it. I waited a little too long. Well, you live and learn. I won't make the same mistake with BEN-AVIR, Shai. COURANE, Sandor, can't you keep this in mind for five minutes at a time? Will you help PURCELL, Rachel?**

 

"Yes" said Courane, "but how will I know when it's time?"

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
I can't stand any more of this; it's hopeless. Look. All you have to do is wait for PURCELL, Rachel, to leave. Then you go looking for her. You can't look for her until she leaves. As soon as she leaves, you go. It's really very simple**

 

"I think I have it straight now. Right. Don't worry."

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
I'm very glad to hear it. And by the way, before you leave, give your secret journal to BEN-AVIR, Shai. Let him read it while you're gone**

 

"I didn't know you knew about the journal."

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
I'm not as dumb as I look**

 

Courane paused; his thoughts became momentarily clearer. "I understand what you're saying," he said at last. "But I want to ask one last thing. All the time I thought I was acting on my own, you were manipulating me, weren't you? I never had any freedom at all, I just thought I did. None of us ever had any. You were manipulating me from the very beginning, right down to this last thing. I still don't see what you're trying to accomplish, but I'll go along with it because of my feelings for Rachel. But none of us ever gave you enough credit. You are far more malicious than we ever believed possible."

 

**COURANE, Sandor: 
Ha ha, COURANE, Sandor. Manipulating you all these months? Don't be silly. Even I couldn't be that sinister. What kind of a monster do you think I am?**

 

Courane couldn't find the words to answer that question.

 

Fletcher sat down next to Courane. They were both eating sandwiches of smoked vark and fishfruit. "I've noticed something about our visitors," said Fletcher, indicating the people from Tau Ceti.

"You mean the way they're all tall and skinny and move around like they have wires inside instead of skeletons?"

Fletcher made a face and opened his sandwich. He picked out a few pieces, put it back together again, then thought better of it and set the sandwich aside on the ground. "Well, yes, that's what I meant. Why do you think that is?"

"Don't have the slightest idea. Why don't you ask one of them?"

Fletcher looked surprised. "You just can't ask a question like that," he said.

Courane shrugged. He gestured to one of the Tau Cetan women, who was looking about the barnyard. She smiled and came toward them. "Hello," she said. She carried a plate of soufmelon as if she were looking for a secret place to throw it away.

"Hi," said Courane. "I'm sorry. I didn't catch all of your names."

"I'm Flanna." She was tall and broad-shouldered, with strong arms and large hands. Like the others, she seemed gaunt but not starved, angular, long-limbed, and sharp-featured. Her hair was long and red and her eyes a startling green. She sat down beside Fletcher.

"I'm Sandy and this is Fletcher. We were wondering if all of you were related."

She laughed, not understanding. "Related? You mean one family? No, we didn't know each other until we came to Planet C."

"Because there is a kind of resemblance," said Courane. He looked from her back toward the others.

"Ah," she said. "I know what you mean. You see, Planet C is a sort of isolation ward. We're all suffering from a rare disease, and it affects the skeleton and muscles and makes the victim into a kind of walking scarecrow." She laughed, but there was no humor in it at all. "You don't have to worry, though. It isn't contagious, I don't think."

Fletcher rubbed his chin. "And TECT sent you all to Planet C because you all had this disease?"

Flanna nodded. "I didn't understand at first," she said slowly. "I mean, I didn't have the disease. At least, I didn't think that I did. I discovered that I was wrong after I'd been on Home for a little while. So you see, TECT knew what it was doing after all."

Courane felt a terrible hopelessness. "Is the disease serious?" he asked. "I mean, do people ever die from it?"

Flanna looked down at the ground. "Oh, yes, people die from it sometimes." She looked up again, into Courane's eyes. Her gaze was steady but unutterably sad. "People die from it a lot," she murmured.

"That's enough questions, Sandy," said Fletcher.

They were silent for a while. "Here," said Courane at last, standing, "let me take that soufmelon. You don't have to pretend to eat it. I'll get rid of it for you."

Flanna looked relieved. "I'd be very grateful," she said.

"Sandy," said Fletcher, "do me a favor? Take this sandwich, too. You know, I have dreams at night about real food, Earth food. In the old days, I used to dream about women." He shook his head ruefully.

Courane stared into the distance, toward the eastern hills. "What is all this for?" he asked of no one. "What is the point of all this pain?"

Flanna put a hand on his arm. She seemed to know just what he meant, as if she had thought about that problem a good deal herself. "It's to show us all how bad we are at suffering," she said.

 

Dawn began as a twitter of birds, detecting the first light in the cloud-cloaked sky. It was feeding time in the animal world and the sudden murmur of activity caught Courane's attention. Wide-eyed, blank-faced, unblinking, his head turned to left and right, seeking some change in his surroundings. He found none. A brisk breeze pushed and rustled through the tall grasses above and behind him on the bank. The river sighed and splashed toward its unknown fate. Trees bent their heavy limbs and creaked with weary age. Nothing threatened Courane. He looked again right and left and saw that night had ended and that the day promised rain, much of it. He was alone by the river without any idea of what he was doing there. He waited for someone to come get him.

A small animal with dull red fur and sharp yellow eyes hopped twice toward Courane's foot. Courane didn't move. He looked at it. It watched him. The animal was about the size of a chipmunk, but its sharp claws and long, fierce incisors seemed to indicate that it was a predator of even smaller creatures. "What do you want?" asked Courane. Surely the thing couldn't be thinking of attacking his boot. Courane reached down slowly and picked up a pebble; the motion frightened the animal and in an instant it was gone. Courane turned to watch it and saw the corpse. He was startled. He moved closer, ignoring the unpleasantness of decomposition, and read the note fastened to the clothing. "The house," he whispered. He sat down again and tried to order his thoughts. "The house. Yes, now I remember. I remember very well." He closed his eyes and pictured the house. He knew it was near the river. "Across the river. The boats." They had to be nearby. He stood and walked along the bank. Both boats were drawn up a short distance away. He came back to get Rachel's body, lifted it, and carried it to the boats. He put her down gently in one of them and looked at the sky. He hoped that the storm would hold off until he got home. Even as he unshipped the oars, he felt the first hard smack of rain.

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