"Foster, Alan Dean - Flinx 1 - For Love of Mother-Not" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

"Your adopted boy," Nyassa-lee said. While the small Oriental spoke. Mother Mastiff noted that the other two were studying her the way a collector might watch a bug on a park bench. That made her even madder, and the anger helped to put a damper on her fear. "I wouldn't make things any easier for you people if ye promised me half the wealth of Terra."
"I'm sorry you feel that way, but it's only what we have come to expect," Nyassa-lee said, turning icy once again. "Have you heard of the Meliorare Society?"
Mother Mastiff shook her head, too angry to cry, which is what she really wanted to do. Names, words they threw at her, all meaningless.
"We're part of an experiment," the Oriental explained, "an experiment which began on Terra many years ago. We are not only scientists, we are activists. We believe that the true task of science is not only to study that which exists but to forge onward and bring into existence that which does not exist but eventually will. We deter- mined not to stand still, nor to let nature do so, either."
Mother Mastiff shook her head. "I don't understand."
"Think," Nyassa-lee urged her, warming to her subject, "what is there in Commonwealth society today that could most stand improvement? The government?" A bitter, derogatory laugh sounded behind her, from Haithness. "Not the government, then. What about the ships that carry us from star to star? No? Language, then, an improvement on Terrangio or symbospeech? What about music or architecture?"
Mother Mastiff simply stared at the woman ranting be- fore her. She was quite certain now, quite certain. These three were all as insane as a brain-damaged Yax'm.
"No, none of those things!" Nyassa-lee snapped. It was terrible to see such complete assurance in one so diminutive. "It's us. We." She tapped her sternum. "Humankind. And the means for our improvement lie within." Her hand went to her head. "In here, in abilities and areas of our mind still not properly developed.
"We and the other members of the Society decided many years ago that something could and should be done about that. We formed a cover organization to fool superstitious regulators. In secret, we were able to select certain human ova, certain sperm, and work carefully with them. Our planning was minute, our preparations extensive.
Through microsurgical techniques, we were able to alter the genetic code of our humans-to-be prior to womb implantation. The result was to be, will be, a better version of mankind."
Mother Mastiff gaped at her. Nyassa-lee sighed and turned to her companions. "As I feared, all this is beyond her meager comprehension."
"Perfectly understandable," Brora said. "What I don't understand is why you trouble to try?"
"It would be easier," Nyassa-lee said.
"Easier for her, or for you?" Haithness wondered. The smaller woman did not reply. "It won't matter after the operation, anyway." At these words, the fine hair on the back of Mother Mastiff's neck began to rise.
"It might," Nyassa-lee insisted. She looked back down at Mother Mastiff, staring hard into those old eyes. "Don't you understand yet, old woman? Your boy, your adopted son: he was one of our subjects."
"No," Mother Mastiff whispered, though even as she mouthed the word, she knew the woman's words must be true. "What-what happened to your experiment?"
"All the children were provided with attention, affection, education, and certain special training. The majority of the subjects displayed nothing unusual in the way of ability or talent. They were quite normal in every way. We proceeded with great care and caution, you see.
"A few of the subjects developed abnormally. That is in the nature of science, unfortunately. We must accept the good together with the bad. However, in light of our imminent success, those failures were quite justified." She sounded as if she were trying to reassure herself as much as Mother Mastiff.
"A few of the children, a very small number, gave indications of developing those abilities which we believe to lie dormant in every human brain. We don't pretend to understand everything about such Talents. We are in the position of mechanics who have a good idea how to repair an imperfect machine without really knowing what the re- paired machine is capable of. This naturally resulted in some surprises.
"An ignorant Commonwealth society did not feel as we did about the importance of our activities. As a result, we have undergone many years of persecution. Yet we have persisted. As you can see, all of us who are original members of the Society are nearly as advanced in years as yourself.
"The government has been relentless in its efforts to wipe us out. Over the years, it has whittled away at our number until we have been reduced to a dedicated few. Yet we need but a single success, one incontrovertible proof of the worthiness of our work, to free ourselves from the lies and innuendo with which we have been saddled.
"It was a cruel and uncaring government which caused the dispersal of the children many years ago and which brought us to our current state of scientific exile. Slowly, patiently, we have worked to try and relocate those children, in particular any whose profiles showed real promise. Your Flinx is one of those singled out by statistics as a potential Talent."
"But there's nothing- abnormal about him," Mother Mastiff protested. "He's a perfectly average, healthy young man. Quieter than most, perhaps, but that's all. Is that worth all this trouble? Oh, I'll admit be can do some parlor tricks from time to time. But I know a hundred street magicians who can do the same. Why don't you go pick on them?"
Nyassa-lee smiled that humorless, cold smile. "You're lying to us, old woman. We know that he is capable of more than mere tricks and that something far more important than sleight of hand is involved."
"Well, then," she continued, trying a different tack, "why kidnap me? Why pull me away from my home like this? I'm an old woman, just as ye say. I can't stand in your way or do ye any harm. If 'tis Flinx you're so concerned with, why did ye not abduct him? I surely could not have prevented ye from doing so."
"Because he may be dangerous."
Yes, they are quite mad, this lot. Mother Mastiff mused. Her boy, Flinx, dangerous? Nonsense! He was a sensitive boy, true; he could sometimes know what others were feeling, but only rarely, and hardly at all when he most
159 wished to do so. And maybe he could push the emotions of others a tiny bit. But dangerous? The danger was to him, from these offworld fools and madmen.
"Also," the little Oriental continued, "we have to proceed very carefully because we cannot risk further harm to the Society. Our numbers have already been drastically reduced, partly by our too-hasty attempt to regain control of one subject child a number of years ago. We cannot risk making the same mistake with this Number Twelve. Most of our colleagues have been killed, imprisoned, or selectively mindwiped."
Mother Mastiff's sense of concern doubled at that al- most indifferent admission. She didn't understand all the woman's chatter about genetic alterations and improving mankind, but she understood mindwiping, all right. A criminal had to be found guilty of some especially heinous crime to be condemned to that treatment, which took away forever a section of his memories, of his life, of his very self, and left him to wander for the rest of his days tormented by a dark, empty gap in his mind.
"You leave him alone!" she shouted, surprised at the violence of her reaction. Had she become so attached to the boy? Most of the time she regarded him as a nuisance inflicted on her by an unkind fate-didn't she?
"Don't you hurt him!" She was on her feet and pounding with both fists on the shoulders of the woman called Nyassa-lee.
Though white-haired and no youngster, Nyassa-lee was a good deal younger and stronger than Mother Mastiff. She took the older woman's wrists and gently pushed her back down into the chair.
"Now, we're not going to hurt him. Didn't I just explain his importance to us? Would we want to damage someone like that? Of course not. It's clear how fond you've be- come of your charge. In our own way, we're equally fond of him."
What soulless people these are. Mother Mastiff thought as she slumped helplessly in her chair. What dead, distant shadows of human beings.
"I promise you that we will not try to force the boy to 160
do anything against his will, nor will we harm him in any way."
"What do ye mean to do with him, then?"
"We need to guide his future maturation," the woman explained, "to ensure that whatever abilities he possesses are developed to their utmost. It's highly unlikely he can do this without proper instruction and training, which is why his abilities have not manifested themselves fully so far. Experience, however, has shown us that when the children reach puberty, they are no longer willing to accept such training and manipulation. We therefore have to guide him without his being aware of it."
"How can ye do this without his knowing what is being done to him?"
"By manipulating him through a third party whose suggestions and directions he will accept freely," the woman said. "That is where you become important."
"So ye wish for me to make him do certain things, to alter his life so that your experiment can be proven a success?"
"That's correct," Nyassa-lee said. "All this must be carried out in such a way that he cannot suspect he is being guided by an outside force." She gestured toward the far end of the room, past transparent doors sealing off a self- contained operating theater. In the dim blue and green light of the instrument readouts, the sterile theater gleamed softly.
"We cannot allow the possibility of interference or misdirection to hamper our efforts, nor can we risk exposure to the Commonwealth agencies which continue to hound us. It is vital that our instructions be carried out quickly and efficiently. Therefore, it will be necessary for us to place certain small devices in your brain, to ensure your complete compliance with our directives."
"Like hell," Mother Mastiff snapped. "I've spent a hundred years filling up this head of mine. I know where everything is stored. I don't want somebody else messing around up there." She did not add, as she glanced surreptitiously toward the operating room, that she had never been under the knife or the laser and that she had a deathly fear of being cut.
"Look," she went on desperately, "I'll be glad to help ye. I'll tell the boy anything ye wish, have him study any- thing ye want and avoid whatever matters ye wish him to avoid. But leave my poor old head alone. Wouldn't I be much more the help to ye if I did what ye require voluntarily instead of like some altered pet?"
Brora folded his hands on the table and regarded her emotionlessly. "That would certainly be true. However, there are factors which unfortunately mitigate against this.
"First, there are mental activities you will be required to carry out which involve complex processes you are not conversant with but which can be stimulated via direct implants. Second, there is no guarantee that at some future time you would not become discouraged or rebellious and tell the subject what you know. That could be a catastrophe for the experiment. Third, though you may direct the boy with surface willingness, his abilities may enable him to see your inner distress and know that something is amiss, whereas I do not think he can detect the implants themselves, as they are wholly mechanical. Lastly, I think you are lying when you say you would be willing to help us."
"But I don't want an operation!" she cried, pounding at the arms of the chair with her fists. "I tell you 'tis not necessary! I'll do anything ye ask of me if you'll but leave the boy alone and instruct me. Why should I lie to ye? You've said yourself that he's not my true child, only an adopted one. I'll be glad to help ye, particularly," she added with a sly smile, "if there be any money involved."
But the man Brora was shaking his head. "You lie forcefully, but not forcefully enough, old woman. We've spent most of our lives having to cope with traitors in our midst. We can't afford another one. I'm sorry." His attention was drawn to the main entrance and to the two men who'd just entered. He nodded toward Mother Mastiff.