Mindwarp Read online

  “Yes, I’ve been told, Kally. It is a proud moment for you and Galthan.”

  “But you don’t understand! They’ve taken him now! They’re not waiting until he’s nine!”

  “Exceptionally gifted children are selected to start their training earlier, Kally. There have been two such children today. You mustn’t worry. He will be extremely well looked after, and you will be able to visit him once a month during his first year at the Guardian of Destiny Training Centre. There are special visiting centres, and the chord-metro fares are free for visiting parents. Just as today’s fares are free.”

  The smooth, soporific voice droned on her ear. Since her husband had been killed three years before in the war, Kally’s dependence on her guardian angel had grown to a level that was greater than she cared to admit.

  “Perhaps we should go home now, Kally,” her guardian angel suggested. “Would you like Bel to be there?”

  Bel was a personable young man that Kally had taken on the year before to help run her business. For the past three months they had been enjoying a casual relationship at a level that suited Kally. Bel could not be described as over-sexed and made few demands on her unless she took the initiative. It gave Kally a level of control that she had never had with her husband. She was about to dismiss the suggestion out of hand, but realised that she would be glad of Bel’s company.

  “I’ll have a word with his guardian angel,” said the angel softly. “Do I have your permission to tell Bel’s angel what has happened?”

  The guardian angels were always very correct on matters of privacy or freewill.

  “I suppose so,” said Kally absently. She was trying to permanently fix in her mind her last glimpse of Ewen. He had turned and given her a little wave before being ushered back to the interview room.

  “Very well. Now, if we go out of the main entrance and turn left…”

  Kally’s angel guided her through the streets and small parks that consisted of grassy open spaces with miniature fountains, neat flowerbeds, and uniform palm trees. Scattered around were plastic benches where office workers ate their lunches. The usual IT’S VITAL TO RECYCLE banners, and pictures of the emperor were everywhere, flashing in a variety of lurid hues. It was midday; the batteries of zargon lights that reflected their glow off the inside of the intersecting domes of Arama were at maximum intensity. There were no seasons - the lights provided 14-hours daylight and ten hours of darkness throughout the year - therefore the trees were tropical palms. Cold was unknown to the people of Arama; the equitable day and night temperatures encouraged people to express themselves in their dress - the more outrageous, the better. To be fashionable was to wear what no-one else was wearing which was why Kally’s powerful imagination and creativity made her clothes much sought after. Her tight bodysuit attracted admiring glances as she crossed the park. She women wore tops that exposed their breasts; the latest fashion craze that Kally had largely instigated although she would never wear them herself. Tarlan, glad to be on the move at last, was remarkably well-behaved.

  The chord-metro station was a complex maze of crowded, narrow tunnels and travelators. Nearly everyone was wearing their guardian angel headbands.

  “Left here, Kally… Now right…”

  It was a practical system for a populace whose majority could neither read or write. Also it steered the crowds away from a short, interconnecting tunnel where a technician was working on the fibre-optic circuits behind an open wall panel.

  The train hissed on magnetic levitation motors into the station. The angel had told Kally where to wait on the crowded platform so that the passenger capsule that stopped where she was standing was the correct one for Galthan. It would later separate from the other capsules.

  5.

  Bel walked quickly. He always felt self-conscious when entering Kally’s neighbourhood. Although he was well-dressed in a one-piece suit that Kally had designed for him, better dressed than most of the locals, he always felt that people knew that he didn’t belong here, and were staring at him.

  Her apartment was situated off one of the smartest residential squares of Galthan where all the living units were on one level. In the centre of the small, tree-lined square was that ultimate community status symbol: a liquid light fountain, shining with increased brilliance now that the daylight was greying to evening level. It was all very different from Bel’s drab block. Even the pictures of the emperor were replaced frequently so that they always looked sharp and fresh. His apartment was so high above the street that he could actually see the inside of his area’s dome from his balcony. It was strange being able to actually see, and nearly touch, the boundary between space and the infinity of the eternal rock.

  He took a short-cut across the centre of the square where two gardeners were tending the flowerbeds. Sometimes they sold off flowers that were past their best. Kally loved flowers. He loved the way her dark yet luminous eyes lit up when he brought her presents. He was five years younger than Kally but the difference didn’t matter. Nothing mattered when they were together.

  Suddenly one of the gardeners gave a cry of alarm and pointed up at a tree.

  “Bird! Bird!”

  Bel froze. The shout provoked as much fear as the cry of “fire” and produced an equally fast response. People lounging on benches, and couples sitting on the grass, jumped to their feet as one and stared. At that moment a small, black shape detached itself from the tree that the distraught gardener was pointing at. The creature swooped low across the square, wings beating furiously. The tiny body gained height and disappeared into the dense fronds of a palm tree near where Bel was standing. People running towards him to get out of the square changed direction abruptly. Bel had been present at bird sightings before. Even though he knew that there was no real danger from the strange thing, it was hard not to get caught up in the near-panic. He turned and walked quickly to the road that bordered the square. A blaring siren heralded the sudden appearance of a wheeled police car. It screeched around a corner and disgorged four police officers before it stopped rolling.

  “That tree there,” said Bel, pointing.

  He watched the men run across the grass, unholstering their plasma discharge sidearms. Another police car appeared and cruised around the square’s periphery road.

  “Everyone is to leave the square,” boomed the cruiser’s public address. “Please leave the square. Please leave the square now.”

  The admonishments were hardly necessary. Everyone, including Bel, had left the square and was standing around the perimeter, waiting to see what would happen.

  The senior of the four policemen peered up at the tree that Bel had pointed out. His three colleagues were aiming their PD weapons at the crown of fronds, holding the butts with both hands to ensure a steady aim.

  “Fire!”

  Three beams of brilliant plasma darted at the tree. The crown exploded as the sap in the tree was converted in an instant to superheated steam. The tree’s headless bole hissed clouds of vapour like a pressure valve, and shredded palm fronds rained down. A police officer with faster reflexes than his colleagues tracked the black shape that had launched itself across the gap to the next tree. A wide angle fan of power spat from his weapon. The terrified bird hit the wall of energy. The police officers backed off quickly as bits of bone and feathers fluttered down onto the grass. None of them wanted even fragments of the abomination from hell to touch them.

  A white air-cushion car bearing the GoD logo hummed across the grass to the police officers. A senior technician-priest climbed out when her chauffeur opened her door. She conferred with the senior police officer while the chauffeur marked off the area around the remains of the bird with a broad, white ribbon.

  “It’s all over, everyone,” announced the cruiser as it went on a circuit of the square. “Please go about your business but stay out of the square. The square is off limits for the time-being. It’s all over. Please disperse. Please disperse.”

  But it wasn’t over, of course. T
he square would be closed until the next Tenth Day when special cleansing and reconsecration services would be held. Also it was likely that all the trees that the bird had alighted in would be uprooted and recycled. And no doubt there would be an inquiry to track down the source of the heresies that had resulted in the creature from hell materializing in Galthan.

  Bel walked around the square’s periphery road which was now unusually crowded. People were talking in awed, hushed tones, and glancing furtively at the priest and the chauffeur who were using tongs to pick up the incinerated remains of the abomination and were dropping them in a bag.

  He reached Kally’s apartment and touched his fingertips on the identification panel. The door slid open. That pleased him. It meant that she wanted him there when she arrived home. He entered the living-room whose floor area was greater than his entire apartment. Owning her own business and having a war widows’ pension meant that Kally could afford the largest family-size domestic unit available in a good neighbourhood. The living room bore a picture of the emperor; the only one in the apartment and the legal minimum.

  “Kally?” he called out, just in case his guardian angel’s information hadn’t been updated.

  “She’ll be along soon, Bel,” said his angel from the Guardian of Destiny receptor that was set into the ceiling. Every apartment had such a black GoD hemisphere. The guardian angel headband speakers operated only in public places. “You’ve come straight from the shop so you must be hungry. Do you want to eat now or when Kally gets home?” Her voice was that of a woman; soft and alluring.

  “I’ll wait, thanks, angel. Let’s have the news channel. There’s just been a bird sighting outside.” He dropped into the big lounger and waited for the screen to come alive. It was a floor to ceiling job whose sheer size always knocked him out, especially the occasional hologram programmes. But nothing happened. The giant screen remained blank.

  “Angel?”

  “I think you ought to eat now, Bel. You’ve had a long, tiring day managing the shop by yourself.”

  Bel sighed. “And you know best, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay.” With guardian angels it was best to treat their friendly suggestions as orders. You could argue with them, and occasionally they would give way, but generally it was better not to cross them. Their punishment for misdemeanors was a withdrawal of services. Once Bel had upset his angel so much that she had refused to speak to him or do anything for him for a whole day. Life in Arama without a guardian angel was impossible.

  “Your meal is ready now, Bel.”

  Bel jumped nimbly off the lounger to show his over-possessive guardian angel that he wasn’t tired, and entered the kitchen. A light was glowing on the meal delivery unit. He pulled down the hatch. Printed on the plastic meal tray’s peel-off cover was a photograph of him. He pressed his finger briefly against the touch square and pulled back the cover. It would not have opened for anyone else. Although there were snack and soft drink vending machines throughout Arama, which rationed citizens to three daily usages of their calorie, protein and fat-free offerings, citizens were not allowed to eat meals intended for anyone else other than themselves. Anyone gaining weight had their diet adjusted until their weight was back to normal. No-one was overweight in Arama; as a result the general health of the populace was good.

  Even the usual insipid smell that was released from the open tray was enough to tell Bel that he was hungry after all. He grabbed a fork, and took the meal into the living-room. The giant wall screen was active. He sat on the lounger and ate while watching the angular shape of Technician-General Frandel. The military leader was confidently explaining the day’s war progress in the battle caverns to a government information officer who was doing her best to look interested.

  Bel’s thoughts turned to Ewen. He was very fond of the lad and would miss him dearly. And that led to another problem. It was only a matter of time before the question of him and Kally getting married arose. They had once half-talked around the subject and left it alone. It was certain to crop-up again. The notion of taking on the role as stepfather to Tarlan and Ewen had a certain appeal. But not Tarlan alone. That was unthinkable. The boys were so different in temperament and appearance that it was hard to believe that they had the same mother, or same father for that matter. Kally rarely mentioned her late husband.

  Bel finished his meal and felt full. It had had an unusual but by no means unpleasant taste. Just different. The tray and peel-off cover were disposed of down the kitchen’s recycling chute. A new commercial was running:

  “We bring you news of a new wonder product called Less!” the narrator proclaimed. “Whenever you go shopping, always buy Less!”

  Bel chuckled. The ads were wittier than the programmes.

  “Buy Less clothes! Less furniture! So remember, always ask for Less and save More! It’s good for you and it’s good for Arama!”

  The wall screen changed to a mildly erotic programme. He watched the veils swirling around the girl as she danced. It was a hologram transmission. The patterned floor of Kally’s apartment continued into the picture so that the girl appeared to be dancing in an adjoining room. She pirouetted gracefully. Her veils rode up, showing more of her than was usual so early in the evening.

  “Is this the regular programme for this channel, angel?”

  A seductive little giggle from his angel. But, to his amazement, it was the dancer who was speaking with the voice of his angel! She had stopped and was facing the camera. “Something I thought you’d like, Bel. Do you want me to change it?”

  Phantoms wriggled in Bel’s stomach. He had heard rumours about guardian angels actually materializing and had always dismissed them as fantasy. But here was his angel confronting him! And she looked so much like Kally.

  He heard himself saying, “No - it’s fine.”

  The girl resumed her sensual movements. The tempo of the music increased. The dance quickened. The girl’s veils flew out from her lithe body. Her resemblance to Kally was uncanny. Bel’s initial fear melted away and he was disturbed by the realization that the girl’s graceful, sinuous movements were causing him to respond. It was odd because although he occasionally enjoyed watching erotica, it never turned him on. At least, not as directly and as positively as this. The girl’s movements and gestures became decidedly wicked, turning up his turn-on. He shifted his weight on the lounger to make himself more comfortable, and hoped that Kally wouldn’t be returning for a few minutes. He could hardly jump up to greet her in his present state: it would be taking a demonstration of being pleased to see someone a little too far.

  The front door slid open. The wall screen dissolved in an instant to the news. Bel groaned and prayed for tumescence. Kally came in with Tarlan in tow. She looked red-eyed and haggard. She flopped down beside Bel before he had a chance to rise.

  “Wanna watch The Diablo Liquidators!” Tarlan demanded.

  “Go and watch in your room,” said Kally wearily.

  “Bigger screen in here!”

  “Do as I say!”

  The boy scowled and left without further argument. Muffled explosions were heard from his room.

  “He’s been giving me the outdoors today,” Kally muttered.

  Bel slipped an arm around her shoulders, and drew her close, taking care not to betray the effects of the erotic dance. “My angel told me what’s happened, Kal. I’m sorry… I don’t know what to say…”

  “Then don’t say anything.” There was no reproach or scolding in her voice. Just exhaustion.

  “If you’d rather I left-”

  She sat up suddenly and looked at him as though forcing her mind to deal with other matters. “No I want you to stay. How was everything at the shop?”

  “The church called. They’ve fixed a time for a technician to repair the seam welder.”

  “Thank goodness for that. We’ve been waiting long enough.”

  Bel gave a worried glance up at the GoD receptor but the black hemisphere did
not respond to the bitter remark. How could she talk about trivial things to do with the shop when her eldest son had been taken from her?

  Tarlan burst in. “Can I have Ewen’s hot air balloon? He won’t need it now.” His eyes were cold and calculating. He had been insanely jealous of Ewen’s new toy ever since Bel had bought it.

  “If Bel doesn’t mind and if you say please.”

  “Please may I have Ewen’s balloon?” There was a mocking tone in his voice. Bel was tempted to refuse, but what was the point? The little monster would only nag Kally and make her life more miserable than it was.

  “Very well,” Bel relented.

  Tarlan gave a triumphant whoop and dived into Ewen’s bedroom. He emerged with the toy balloon fully inflated. Hot air was hissing through the gadget’s battery-powered air heater. He released it and watched it float up to the ceiling.

  “In your room, please, Tarlan,” Kally requested.

  “Higher ceiling here.”

  “Please, Tarlan.”

  The boy looked sulky but tugged the balloon down by its trailing line and left the room.

  Kally closed her eyes and gave a long sigh as the tensions of the day drained from her. “I suppose I’d better order the evening meal. And Tarlan will be hungry when he gets bored with that thing.”

  “I’ll get it.” Bel immediately regretted the offer because it would mean standing up.

  “It can wait a few minutes.” She circled an arm around Bel’s waist. The quiet was disturbed by the muffled sound of plasma discharge cannons from Tarlan’s room.

  “Bel?”

  “Yes?”

  “I want you to stay the night and make love to me.”

  Bel swallowed. He was slow at making love. But tonight it would be easy.

  The mindwarp system did not work only for the benefit of society as a whole; it could also work for the good of individuals.

  Sometimes.

  6.

  Technician-Father Regen Dadley was an old man who had seen many generations of youngsters pass through the GoD Centre. In deference to his years, he no longer taught, and had been made senior housefather to new arrivals. He was stooped, with a kindly, encouraging smile permanently wreathing his moon-like face. He had boundless patience, and a genuine love of all his charges. Today’s intake was six children. Two were gifted seven-year-olds who had been selected that day. All six were suitably awed and tired after their preliminary orientation tour of the Centre.