"I, Mengsk" - читать интересную книгу автора (McNeill Graham)

CHAPTER 13

VALERIAN'S EYES FLICKERED AND AILIN PASTEUR smiled as he watched the lad fight the tiredness that threatened to overcome him. It had been a long day and emotions had been running high as they awaited the arrival of Arcturus's ship. His grandson had been excited enough for all of them, which wasn't surprising given the inflated stories Juliana had filled his head with over the last seven years.

Ailin sat on the side of Valerian's bed, smiling as his grandson blinked furiously at the onset of sleep.

"But I'm not tired, Grandpa," said Valerian. "Why can't I speak to my dad? I've waited all day for him."

"Then one more night's sleep won't hurt, will it? He'll still be here in the morning."

Ailin dearly hoped that was true, for if he'd learned anything about Arcturus from speaking with Angus and Katherine,it was that their son was inclined to be capricious when it came to remaining in one place for any length of time.

"He's just like I imagined him," said Valerian, and Ailin Pasteur fought to keep the worry from his face. Juliana had built up the boy's expectations of his father since his birth, despite Ailin's warnings to her not to do so. It was a source of constant bafflement to Ailin how Juliana could still hold a torch for Arcturus, given how terribly he had treated her— albeit part of that mistreatment was through ignorance of Valerian's existence.

He still remembered the day Juliana had told him she was pregnant. Pride and joy were mixed with anger and fear as he realized that Juliana wasn't going to tell Arcturus that he was to be a father. To this day he couldn't understand or dent her reasoning, founded as it was on years of adoration from afar. They had argued furiously about her refusal to tell Arcturus of her pregnancy, those arguments only ending when Juliana had threatened to leave and never allow him to see her child should he so much as breathe a word to any of the Mengsks.

Faced with such an ultimatum, what could any father do but accede?

In Juliana's worldview, Arcturus had things he had to do on his quest for greatness, and she couldn't distract him until the time was right. Now that Arcturus had left the military, that time had apparently arrived.

Though it had been galling to see his daughter give up on her nascent legal career in favor of impending motherhood, Juliana was happy and he couldn't deny the pleasure he took from seeing that happiness.

When Valerian had been born, it seemed her joy was complete. Ailin adored the boy— but then, Valerian was easy to love, blessed as he was with his mother's grace and his father's strong features. As Valerian had grown, he began to display a quick wit and a devilish streak that Ailin knew only too well from his trips to Korhal and previous encounters with the Mengsk family.

Only once or twice had Ailin sensed his daughter's regret at her abandonment of her career, but all she had to do was look into Valerian's beautiful face and it was swept away in a rush of adoration.

Afler the sudden and shocking introduction to his son, Arcturus had gone quite pale and, for once, been lost for a scathing retort. A master of reading people's emotions, Ailin had seen the anger building in Arcturus and whisked Valerian away from the ugly drama that was no doubt unfolding below.

Valerian had protested, but Ailin had learned to be the firm hand in Valerian's life that his mother most certainly was not.

"Is Dad going to live with us now?" asked Valerian, breaking into Ailin's thoughts.

"I don't know, Val," said Ailin, unwilling to sugar his response: Valerian's mother did enough of that. 'He's just arrived and I don't know what he's going to do."

"Mum wants him to stay."

"I expect you're right, but try not to worry about it. Get some sleep, eh?"

"Where's my dad been?" asked Valerian with the relentless curiosity of a child.

"He's been in the army, Valerian,"

"Fighting bad men? Or aliens?"

Aliens. It always came back to aliens with Valerian. Ever since Ailin had—under protest—read him a bedtime story about invading creatures from another world, the boy had been fascinated by the idea that other life-forms might once have existed (or might still exist) somewhere in the galaxy.

Ailin and Juliana had taken Valerian as a young child—under armed escort, of course—to the far canyons and riverbeds of Umoja in search of relics of those lost civilizations. Undaunted by his singular lack of success, Valerian had nevertheless excavated a host of "ancient" artifacts—oddly contoured rocks, petrified bark, and the shells of dead creatures he proudly claimed to be the remains of aliens.

"No, Valerian. I don't think your father was fighting aliens."

"So who was he fighting?"

"Thai's kind of hard to answer," said Ailin, trying to think of a way to explain where Valerian's father had been and what he had been doing without upsetting the youngster. As much as Ailin hated the Institution of the Confederate Marine Corps, he did not want to rob Valerian of his idealized image of his father before he'd even met the man properly and formed his own opinion.

Arcturus would disabuse the boy of any heroic notions soon enough anyway, he thought.

"I bet my dad's a war hero," said Valerian. "I bet he killed hundreds of men."

"I'm sure he did," said Ailin.

"But he's not a soldier anymore, is he?"

"No, not anymore."

"So what does he do now?" asked Valerian. "Mum just tells me he's doing great work, but I don't really know what that means."

"I'm told he's been a prospector out on the fringe worlds since he left the army," said Ailin. "Quite a good one, too, by all accounts."

"Is he rich?"

"I'm not sure, but from the sound of it, I think he might be soon."

"Good," declared Valerian. "I want to be rich too."

Ailin smiled. "You know, we're not exactly poor here, Valerian."

"I know, but I want to find aliens when I grow up and I'm going to need a lot of money to do that, aren't I?"

"I suspect you might," Ailin said, laughing. "You'll need a fleet of spaceships, the best archaeologists money can buy, and all sorts of tools."

"Oh, I won't need archaeologists. I want to do the digging myself."

"Really?"

"Of course," said Valerian. "If anyone's going to find aliens I don't want it to be anyone except me. Where would the fun be in that?"

"I suppose you're right: I hadn't thought of that," said Ailin, pride and love filling his heart at the excitement in Valerian's face. "Now, go to sleep, Val. You've got a big day tomorrow."

"Yes...." said Valerian, pulling the covers tightly around him with a contented smile as his eyes drifted shut. "I'm going to meet my dad tomorrow."

Ailin Pasteur rose from the bed and turned off the light beside Valerian's bed. He made his way to the door and slipped from his grandson's room.

"Yes," he said. "You're going to meet your father. I just hope he's all you hope for."

Arcturus still couldn't quite believe it. He was a father...?

He was a father?

How was the first question that leapt to mind, swiftly followed by a mental kick to the backside. How do you think it happened, idiot?

He wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come. He wanted to deny it, but the cast of the boy's countenance was unmistakable. Every curve of feature was that of a Mengsk and the analytical part of Arcturus's brain had seen that the boy was a handsome lad indeed, obscenely gifted with the best genes his parents had to offer.

No sooner had Ailin led the boy away than Juliana said something.

Arcturus didn't hear it.

His head was filled with the white noise of a million questions and the rush of blood around his body. The crackling of the fire was like the roar of a great inferno, and he fell the air in his lungs rasping along his throat and from his mouth.

Juliana rose from her chair with a pained expression and crossed the room toward him with her arms outstretched. Without thinking, he took her in his arms and held her as she rested her head on his shoulder and whispered things he couldn't understand.

He stood like that for several moments before the reality of the situation washed over him in a tsunami of anger and betrayal. Arcturus took hold of Juliana's arms and pushed her away, as though she were contaminated with some vile plague.

"I have a son?" he said, striding away from her.

"Yes," said Juliana, smiling broadly. "You have a wonderful son. His name is Valerian."

"A good name," said Arcturus. "Strong."

Juliana nodded. "I knew you'd be pleased with that. It suits him too."

Arcturus was pleased with the name, but more pressing concerns needed to be addressed.

“Why the hell didn't you tell me?" he said. "You kept this from me for all these years? Why would you do that, Juliana? Why?"

She recoiled from his anger, and he saw the fear in her eyes. Normally such behavior would have repulsed him, but now he relished it, wanting to hurt her for the insult of keeping a secret from him. And what a secret...

"Answer me, damn you!" snapped Arcturus when she turned away from him and stepped close to the fireplace. She held on to the mantelpiece and coughed into a handkerchief before turning to face him.

"I thought you'd be pleased," she said.

"Pleased? That you've lied to me and kept the fact that I...that we have a child together? What the hell did you expect? That I'd be pleased with this? That I'd be happy to know I was a father just when my life is taking off the way I've always dreamed?"

"That's why I couldn't tell you before now!" cried Juliana. "All those great plans and dreams you told me—I knew I couldn't get in the way until you were ready to realize them. I know you just joined the Marine Corps to punish your father, and I couldn't tell you about Valerian while you were fighting in the Guild Wars."

"Why not?" said Arcturus, spying a drinks tray on the sideboard and pouring himself a hefty measure of something amber and pungent.

"Knowing you had a son would have made your life so much harder."

Arcturus took a belt of strong liquor. "What are you talking about?"

"I didn't want you thinking of anything except staying alive, Arcturus. I didn't want to do anything that might distract you and get you killed. But now you're out of the military and I asked my father to keep tabs on how you were doing."

Arcturus poured himself another glass of liquor, deciding that it was some kind of brandy. He hoped it was expensive and old.

"If you've been keeping tabs on me then you'll know we just hit the biggest mineral find I've ever heard of. My mining crew are working it as we speak, and I should be with them. I'm on the brink of achieving everything I wanted and you drop this in my lap. Well, thank you very much for that, Juliana. Your timing is exquisite!"

A fire flashed to life in her eyes. "You don't think I had dreams too, Arcturus? Remember I had just started with that law firm as a paralegal? I was doing well therem and I had a promising career there until I fell pregnant."

"Not a very progressive firm if they fired you for something like that," said Arcturus. "You should have sued."

"They didn't fire me, thank you very much," snapped Juliana. "They wanted me to come back after Valerian was born, but I wanted to devote myself to our child."

"Very commendable," said Arcturus, pouring a third drink. He could already feel the spikes of his anger being worn smooth by its patency.

"Valerian is very like you, Arcturus. He's brilliant, charming, and utterly determined in everything he does. You'll like him, I know you will."

Arcturus brushed that thought aside, still reeling from the idea of having a young son and the fact that he didn't know him at all. Seven years of the boy's life had passed and until now, neither he nor Valerian had ever laid eyes on the other.

"Does my father know? My mother? Dorothy?"

Juliana shook her head. "No, I wanted to tell you first. It wasn't my place to tell your family about Valerian."

"True," said Arcturus, lapsing into silence for a moment as a thought occurred to him.

"What is it?" asked Juliana, seeing a dawning realization in his face.

"It was on Tyrador IX, wasn't it?" he said.

"Can you remember any other time you slept with me?"

"Of course not. Don't be so melodramatic; I was thinking aloud," said Arcturus. "Give me a damn moment to get my thoughts straight. You can't spring something like this on me and expect me to be rational just yet."

He reached for another drink, then thought the better of it. He replaced the glass and began to pace the length of the room, running a hand through his hair as he did so.

"Rational?" said Juliana. "What is there to be rational about? You have a son and you have a chance to get to know him. To get to know me again. We can be a family now."

"A family?" said Arcturus, halting before her. "I... Is that what you want of me? To leave everything behind and come and live on Umoja with you and the boy?"

"His name is Valerian."

"I know what his name is, Juliana."

"Then why are you afraid to say it?" she countered. "Are you afraid that if you say his name you'll have to acknowledge him? That he'll become real to you?"

"No, of course not, don't be absurd."

"Then why won't you say his name?"

"Valerian," said Arcturus. "Valerian, Valerian, Valerian. There, are you happy now?"

Juliana slapped him across the cheek and he had to restrain the urge to slap her back. He remembered a similarly stinging blow delivered by his mother. In hindsight, he'd realized he'd deserved that one, and, he was forced to admit, he probably deserved this one too.

"I'm sorry, Juliana," he said at last. "But I can't leave everything I'm building to come and play happy family with you. I just can't."

"Then what? You're just going to leave like you always do? Run away instead of face up to things?"

"I don't run from things," warned Arcturus.

"Of course you do," said Juliana. "You joined the Marine Corps to run away from your father and you ran away from me just when we were getting close. And now you're going to run away from your son. Your heir."

Juliana's words hit home like hammer blows as he saw the truth of them. Rather than facing up to the events that stood at the crossroads of his life, he had turned from them and chosen the path of least resistance. Would this be another such moment?

Arcturus stood on the brink of everything he had ever wanted, but what good was any of it if it was built on foundations of shifting sand? Perhaps now was the time to take stock of his life and look to his legacy. After all, his father had been only a couple of years older than Arcturus was now when he had been handed his son.

"Very well, Juliana," he said at last. "I'll stay. I will talk to the...to Valerian. I'll get to know him and he will be my heir, as you say."

She threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around him once more. "I'm so happy. I knew that once you saw Valerian you'd want to be part of his life."

Again, Arcturus prized Juliana from him, though with less force than the last time.

"Don't let's get ahead of ourselves now," he said. "I said I'll get to know him. but I still don't know if I'm ready to just give up on everything I've built.”

"I'm not asking you to," said Juliana, cupping his chin in her hands and pressing her face close to his. "Can't you see that? You don't have to give anything up. We can all be together. All of us. We can have everything we ever dreamed of. All those grand plans you told me over the years? They' re coming to fruition now. Right now. You just have to want to see it."

Arcturus smiled.

Perhaps Juliana's words had merit or perhaps it was the alcohol flowing around his system, but whatever it was, Arcturus was surprised to find the idea didn't horrify him. Perhaps they could be a normal family after all.

Arcturus awoke with a thick head and a brief dislocation as he wandered where he was. He was refreshed and his limbs felt gloriously rested. The prefabricated crew quarters of a mining claim or the cramped confines of a starship weren't exactly conducive to uninterrupted sleep, and he'd forgotten just how nice it was to spend a night in a soft bed. He stretched and rolled his neck on the pillow, enjoying the warmth and letting the aches of the last six months ease from his bones.

He smiled, and then the blissful forgetfulness of waking was replaced with the cold, hard remembrances of the previous night's events as everything came rushing back.

Juliana.

Valerian.

His son...

The gentle ease of morning fled from his body and he pushed himself upright, looking around the wood-paneled room, with its tasteful furniture, heavy curtains, and discreetly situated technology. The functionality of the room was pure Umoja, and the sliver of dusty orange sky he could see through the window only confirmed it.

Arcturus swung his legs from the bed, his earlier desire to wallow in the thickness and warmth of the covers having evaporated once he remembered the purpose of Ailin Pasteur's summons. At least now he understood the source of the man's less-than-friendly welcome.

Quickly and without fuss, Arcturus cleaned himself in the sonic shower, a fine, elegantly designed machine. The brand wasn't one owned by the Old Families: such independence was typical of most homes on Umoja, suspected Arcturus. It was, little to his surprise, efficient and thorough, vibrating the particles of sweat and dead skin from him without peeling off another few layers of skin for good measure.

He shaved with a similarly efficient sonic razor and combed his hair, then dressed in a dark gray suit with knee-height boots. The suit had been cleaned and pressed, the boots polished to a mirror sheen. Ailin Pasteur's servants were thorough, that was for sure.

"Time to face the music," he said, and left the room, making his way along a marble-faced corridor that opened out into the entrance hall he'd arrived in last night. The door to the sitting room was open and Arcturus could hear voices coming from within. He recognized one as belonging to Ailin Pasteur, and entered the room.

Sure enough, the Umojan ambassador was sitting in the same chair his daughter had occupied the night before. He was talking to one of his functionaries, who look notes on a personal console with a wand stylus.

Pasteur, his face an unreadable mask, looked up as Arcturus entered.

"Good morning, Ailin," said Arcturus.

"Indeed," replied Pasteur. "You slept well?"

"You have no idea," said Arcturus. "After nearly a year of sleeping on top of rocks or camp beds, I could have slept anywhere, but, yes, I was most comfortable, thank you."

"Hungry?"

"Ravenous," said Arcturus.

Pasteur nodded to his servant and the man bowed before withdrawing from the room and shutting the door behind him.

"Where's Juliana?" asked Arcturus.

"Outside with Valerian. Digging up the bottom of the garden, no doubt."

"You don't have groundskeepers?"

Ailin smiled, though there was no warmth to it. "I do, but that's not what I meant. Valerian's quite the budding archaeologist. He loves digging in the earth almost as much as another young man I remember."

"Maybe he takes after me," said Arcturus.

"I rather think he does."

"You sound disappointed."

"No, just sad for you that you've missed so much of Valerian's life. The years when Juliana was growing up were some of the happiest I've ever had, but you'll never know that simple joy."

"Hardly my fault, Ailin," pointed out Arcturus. "I didn't know he even existed."

"Would it have made any difference if you had?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I am not blind to my own faults, such as they are, but I said I would stay for a time and get to know the boy. And I'll make sure he has the best of everything."

"We can provide for him," said Pasteur. "I am a wealthy man, Arcturus."

"I know that, but Valerian is my son, and I will provide for him. I'll not be beholden to any man, Ailin, and I'll not be accepting charity. Even if this claim I've found is worth only a fraction of what I think it's worth, I'll never need to worry about money again. Therefore, neither will Valerian.”

"Very well," said Ailin. "That's good to hear."

Arcturus heard the simmering resentment in Pasteur's voice and said. "You can't hold me responsible for not being here. Juliana never told me of Valerian. "

"I know that, but whether she never told you or not, the simple fact remains that you weren't. You didn't see her raise Valerian on her own, you dldn't hear her cry in the night, and you missed everything a father is supposed to be part of. It's hard for me to look at you and not pity you for all you've missed."

"Don't pity me, Ailin," said Arcturus. "I'll not have your pity."

"Very well, not pity, but regret. Juliana should have had you next to her through all this, but she didn't. And it wasn't because she never told you about Valerian. It was because you shut her out to pursue your own dreams. We'll never know, but I suspect if Juliana had told you before now, you would have turned your back on her and the baby. Am I wrong?"

"Probably not," admitted Arcturus. "But I'm here now, aren't I?"

"Yes, and that's the only reason I'm maintaining a degree of civility to you. I know you, Arcturus Mengsk. You are a selfish man who I believe cares nothing for anyone else. I think you could be a very dangerous man, but you are the father of my grandson and I'm willing to give you another chance not to disappoint me."

"You're too kind."

"I'm serious," snapped Pasteur, and Arcturus was struck by the vehemence in the man's voice. "You have responsibilities now and if you fall to live up to them, I'll make sure you never see Valerian again."

"That sounds like a threat."

"It is."

"Well, at least we understand each other."

Further discussion was halted as Pasleur's servant reentered the room bearing a silver platter laden with a steaming pot of sweet tea and a plate of pastries, cheese, and cold meat. The man held the platter next to Arcturus's chair and slender metallic legs descended from the platter's base.

Pasteur thanked the man as he left the room.

"These are dangerous times, Arcturus," said Pasteur once the servant was gone. "Battle lines are changing—old wars are drawing to a close and new ones are beckoning."

"Are you talking about the Guild Wars?"

"The Guild Wars are over," said Pasteur. "The Confederacy knows it and the Kel-Morians know it, they just haven't accepted it yet. The Confederacy's too powerful, and if the last shots haven't been fired yet, rest assured they will be soon. And then the Confederacy will be looking for its next target."

"And what do you think that will be? Umoja?"

"Perhaps," said Pasteur, "but there are steps being taken to protect Umoja."

"What steps?"

"Steps I'd prefer not to talk about just yet," said Pasteur.

Arcturus wandered what Pasteur meant, but didn't press the point. If the man wanted to tell his secrets, he'd tell them in his own lime.

"Have you spoken to your family recently?" asked Pasteur.

Wondering at the abrupt change of topic, Arcturus said. "Not for a while, no, but that's one of the reasons I came. I saw the broadcast on the UNN about the declaration of martial law."

"Yes, things have become very dangerous on Korhal."

Arcturus poured some tea and helped himself to a cinnamon-topped pastry.

"So tell me what's been happening," he said. "I've watched the UNN reports of bombings, terrorist atrocities, and attacks on Confederate militia, bul I imagine they're either wildly exaggerated or half-truths. And every communication I've had from mother is so cryptic as to be unintelligible."

"She's being careful," said Pasteur, pouring himself a cup of tea. "Confederate Intelligence agents are monitoring everything that comes off Korhal, especially transmissions from someone in your family. The Skyspire and the summer villa are almost certainly under all-round surveillance."

"I know you and my father were behind most of the attacks against the Confederacy on Korhal, but are you really that dangerous to them?"

"More than you realize," said Pasteur. "Korhal is one of the most important worlds in the Confederacy, a model of what the earliest colonists hoped to build in this sector. For decades, the Old Families trumpeted Korhal as the jewel in their crown, an exemplar world that proudly displayed all they could achieve. They thought Korhal's example would be what would persuade Moria and Umoja to join the Confederacy, but they were wrong. All it did was show us the yoke of tyranny ever more strongly, and now that Korhal's in rebellion, they're terrified that if their most treasured colony could turn against them, others might be tempted to do the same."

"Do you think my family is in danger?"

"I know they are in danger," said Pasteur. "They've been in danger ever since your father's Close of Session speech at the Palatine Forum. But then you'd have known that it you had stayed long enough to hear it."

"Please, let's not go down this road again," said Arcturus. "It's old news and frankly I'm bored with your throwing it in my face. Tell me about my family."

Pasteur sat back in his chair, visibly composing himself menially. "You're right. I'm sorry, Arcturus, but I can still remember your mother's tears that day. It's not an easy thing to forgive."

"She's forgiven me."

"She's your mother," said Pasteur. "That's what mothers do."

Arcturus studied Pasteur's face as he spoke, seeing the deep lines around his eyes and the gleam on his pate, where his hair was little more substantial than thin wisps of gray smoke. The years of clandestine support for his father's rebel faction on Korhal had not been without its price.

"Achton Feld's a good man, but he doesn't have the resources of the Confederacy. He's worked wonders in protecting your family and he's been lucky as well as skilled, but your father's enemies only need to be lucky once and it's all over."

Arcturus was shocked. He had no idea things were so volatile on Korhal. The reports concerning his father had largely belittled his importance or depicted him as some kind of raving madman, which, he now realized, should have told him immediately how seriously the Confederacy viewed Angus.

"Do you think the Confederacy will try and kill him?"

"It's possible," said Pasteur. "Angus is such a valuable figurehead that they might attempt something that direct, but I think maybe his very visibility is what will protect him. If there’s anyone with a grain of sense in the Tarsonis Council they'll know that it may do more harm than good to target Angus."

Arcturus snorted in derision. "Yes, and having sense is a quality the Council's known for, after all."

"Hence why I believe things to be so dangerous. Your father and Achton Feld have amassed a popular army that numbers in the millions—tough, disciplined, and loyal men. And the momentum and support your father's built up among the civilian populace and neighboring worlds means it's only a matter of time until the Confederacy's forced off Korhal for good."

"It sounds like they don't need any help then."

"Don't be so naïve," said Pasteur. "This is just when the Tarsonis Council is at its most dangerous, when it thinks it might lose Korhal and have no other option but force."

"Are you talking about an invasion?" said Arcturus, incredulous at the prospect of Confederate marines storming the planet of his birth.

Pasteur shrugged. "Perhaps, but I don't think so. Feld's army is well trained and has the very best weapons we could supply: rifles, explosives, tanks, anti-air missiles, the works. Any invasion would cost the Confederacy dearly and I don't think that's a risk they're willing to take."

"And if you're wrong?"

"Then there will be bloodshed like nothing we've ever seen," said Pasteur.