Lavabull Page 12

  “We can install new leadership that will labor to turn the corner and put mankind, animankind, and lavakind on a course to global sustainability, whether on Earth or other planets. To truly cut pollution, global warming, overpopulation, depletion of diminishing resources. It may take centuries to see the result, but it’s the direction that counts.”

  “And who exactly can be trusted to provide such leadership?”

  “You, me, and The Bull, to start. We do have our special talents.”

  Templa laughed. “It’s an illusion to think we’re not corruptible.”

  “After we prepare a governing template of the ideal qualities of perfect leadership. And submit ourselves to be the first recipients of that template. Which will be installed by the telepathic power of the volcanoes, who really don’t care what happens to life on Earth as long as it leaves them alone. They are, in this respect, objective.”

  Templa stared at her. “You’re serious!”

  Lavender smiled somewhat grimly. “The template would include our mutual desires to support and trust each other, and to be worthy of that trust, and to work unstintingly for the common good. And to recruit other telepaths and skilled individuals to join the cause. It would cost us our ornery freedom of choice but make us reliable.”

  Templa shook her head. “I have to think about this.”

  “Don’t we all! Salvation does not come cheap.”

  Chapter 25: Escape

  While Templa mulled the offer over, we waited in a structure that resembled a grand ballroom. The air was clean and fresh. The plastic structure served to keep the noxious gas at bay. I suspected the gas wouldn’t have much effect on Lavender, but I sure as hell didn’t want to breathe it.

  Just prior to dropping us off, Templa had said that the plastic city was made of material of her own creation. She wasn’t a mad scientist for nothing. Additionally, a fleet of orca men, whale men, and dolphin men, had steadily brought supplies and building material down into this vast underground chamber—a chamber that had been hollowed out eons before by folk history had yet to record. Templa conjectured that this, in fact, might be the remnants of Atlantis—or another long lost kingdom—now swallowed up by the sea. Perhaps from the volcano now simmering below. Meanwhile, a team of animen builders had constructed the city, as they were doing even now, pushing deeper and deeper into the earth, following long-carved out caverns and natural lava tubes. I suspected Lavender would be at home here.

  Finally, I eased down on a very real wooden chair. I always eased down on wooden chairs. Trust me, I’ve broken my fair share of chairs over the intervening bullish years. The room was a storage room of sorts, filled with all manner of wood and metal panels, furniture, and machinery. Apparently not everything was plastic. One thing was obvious: Villainous, or Templa, had thought of everything.

  “Exactly,” thought Lavender, and I could tell she was running some interference between us and Templa, who was undoubtedly somewhere nearby. “She put a lot of thought and effort and time into this plan.”

  “She’s not going to give it up easily,” I thought, nodding.

  “She’s the queen bee here. The animen and women are her worker bees. Why give this up for altruistic reasons? She doesn’t have an altruistic bone in her body. She’s drunk on power and revenge. I’m afraid nothing will stop her.”

  “Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe she really is considering your proposal.”

  “There’s one way to know...”

  And Lavender got that far-off look in her eye that she gets when she’s going deep within. I don’t go deep within. Hell, I’ve never gone deep within. The deepest I got was trying to decide if I was too drunk for another beer.

  A moment later, Lavender blinked. She was back. “The lava folk have confirmed my fears.”

  “How so?”

  “They couldn’t read her mind—she’s even too powerful for them—but they could read the minds of her surrounding minions. They are planning to attack us here, in this room; in fact, within a matter of minutes.”

  “But if they attack us, won’t the lava folk retaliate, and burn these caverns?”

  “She’s apparently aware of that, and had made plans with her submersible captain to escape, along with the presidential clone.”

  “The clone,” I said, snapping my fingers.

  Lavender nodded. “Apparently, there’s a Plan C to her attempt to take over the world.”

  “Rule via the fake president.”

  “A president she has complete control over,” said Lavender.

  “We can’t let her escape.”

  “I agree,” said Lavender, “which is why I’ve already summoned the lava folk.”

  “They’re coming now?” I asked, sitting forward.

  “Oh, yes. A whole army of them.”

  Gunfire suddenly erupted, followed by a loud, blaring alarm. Bullets crisscrossed through the air, puncturing through the plastic walls. Many just missing us.

  “Let me guess,” I said, ducking. “They’re here.”

  “Good guess,” said Lavender.

  ***

  My hide was tough enough to withstand most ordinary bullets. Only a direct hit to the head, or one of those explosive bullets would probably kill me. Then again, my regenerating abilities were off the charts. Who knows. Maybe I would regenerate before I could actually die. I didn’t want to find out.

  Which is why I grabbed an unfinished metal door with one hand, and Lavender’s hand with my other, and charged forward, near the rear of the plastic structure. Mercifully, the bullets were coming from one direction—from the main chamber. Two or three errant projectiles slammed into the door, dimpling it from the inside. One of which was just inches from my head. Yeah, that woulda hurt.

  “What’s the plan?” asked Lavender when we reached the back entrance.

  “Find Templa and stop her.”

  “That’s all you got?” asked Lavender.

  “I’m known for my brawn not my brain—let’s go!”

  I kicked down the door, which was easy enough to do, and we found ourselves in a narrow back alley. A plastic back alley. Screams filled the air, followed by more gunfire, and now a small explosion. The ground shook, which was the last thing I wanted to feel while deep beneath the ocean floor. At least, that’s where I think we were. The strong chemical acrid smell was the plastic melting. We needed to get out of here anyway, and fast. I didn’t believe much of what Templa said, but I had no reason to doubt that the plastic city kept the poisonous fumes at bay.

  “This way,” I said, and continued down the alley, to where I was certain the submersible was berthed.

  Chapter 26: Gate Rape

  Lavender knew they were in a desperate situation.

  They had to avoid the battle while making their way to the sub, and they had to get there before Templa did. But they could not take it alone; Templa would trigger its bomb and they would be blown up. If Templa got on it alone, she would go to the yacht and take over the president clone, and go on from there. So they had to get on it with Templa. That of course was serious mischief, because though Lavender could take Templa physically, she could not do so mentally.

  Yet there was one possible saving grace. Lavender had tried to convert Templa, because the woman had phenomenal telepathic and intellectual talent and could do enormous good, were she only on the right side. Similarly, Templa wanted to convert Lavender, because she represented immediate access to the lava folk that Templa needed to protect the undersea paradise. They needed each other. They did not have to like each other, but both would be better off on the same side, whichever side that was. They needed to hammer out a compromise.

  But how could Lavender win Templa to her side? Any mental engagement was likely to go the other way. Unless—

  “Bull,” she said. “Take me by the hand and lead me to the sub. Or carry me if you have to. Just get me there. I’m about to tune out.”

  “You’re a terror when you tune out,” he said.

  �
��More: don’t let Templa board the sub alone. But don’t board it without her. We three have to be on it together.”

  “But—”

  “If she gets on it alone, she’ll go to the ‘yot’ and take over the clone and start organizing to take over the human world. With her powers of telepathy and projection she just might be able to succeed. We can’t afford to risk that.”

  “Got that,” he agreed. “But—”

  “If we get on it without her, she’ll use her mind to detonate the bomb on it, and we’ll be smithereens. We don’t want to risk that either.”

  “Yeah, we don’t,” he agreed.

  “So we have to be together.”

  “But can’t she mess up your mind?”

  “Yes. I can’t match her mental ability.”

  “So being on the sub with her is no good either.”

  “So it would seem. But we have to do it. It’s our only chance.”

  “But—”

  “Trust me. And cover me with your lecherous thoughts. You’d be making love to me now if it wasn’t for the battle. If we survive this, they’ll come true.” Before he could protest further, she tuned out.

  What could he do? She felt him leading her by the hand while his thoughts caressed her body. If there was one thing he could do well, it was imagining sex. It was hard for any other mind to touch hers while that firewall of lust and aspiration surged around her. She had to hunker down mentally herself so as not to get swept up in the storm and wrap her body around his. Templa would find it treacherous going.

  Now she tunneled out, mentally, on a tight beam that contacted the lava folk. Need help. Now.

  They answered her. We can mark you for extraction from the scene. Our folk won’t hurt you.

  No. I need another shunt.

  A second one in The Bull?

  No. In me.

  There was a fractional pause as they assimilated this. What kind?

  Lavender gave a quick but detailed mental description. It needed to be in one place in her mental scheme, but to appear to be in another. The real shunt needed to seem to be her center of voluntary control.

  There was an internal wrench that left her dizzy. It is done. They did not need to inquire why she needed it; they had picked that up from her mind.

  Lavender came out of it. They were at the sub, waiting on Templa. She kept her thoughts stifled, as if she had been drugged. The woman appeared, hurrying toward it. She saw them. Lavender retreated mentally, clothing herself with a feeling of weakness and frustration. She saw no way to prevail.

  “What’s with the lava girl?” Templa called.

  “She tuned out,” The Bull explained. “I think she hit her head or something. I had to drag her here. It’s not safe to make out with her in the middle of a battle.”

  “Well, get out of the way, bully boy. I’m taking the sub. You can stay here and screw her to pieces exactly the way your mind suggests.”

  “No,” he said. “We’re taking the sub too. I know that’s what she wants.”

  She hesitated, her mind flicking through Lavender’s defeated mind, and The Bull’s ongoing lust, then came to a decision. “Very well. You operate the sub while I deal with her. The controls are simple; I’ll show you how. I promise you’ll get to screw her, and maybe me too, after I’m through with her. She’ll do anything you want.”

  “Great!” He picked Lavender up and carried her into the sub, following Templa.

  Could the woman actually believe that The Bull cared for Lavender no more than this? As a tough body to satisfy his physical urges? Or was it that Templa was so sure of her power that she didn’t care?

  He put her down on a metal bench, then went with Templa to study the sub’s controls. So far so good. Lavender lay there like a slowly recovering victim.

  Then the sub was in motion. The Bull was operating the controls, and Templa was back. She did not try to talk to Lavender. She simply laid a hand on her head and plunged into her dazed mind.

  It was like a nest of ants swarming over a freshly killed carcass, or maybe one that wasn’t quite dead yet. They delved into every aspect, seeking its treasures.

  Lavender stirred herself. “What?”

  “Be at ease, stone person,” Templa said. “I need your help in connecting to the lava folk. Since it seems you won’t give it voluntarily, I’m overriding your voluntary control.”

  “But that’s rape!” Lavender protested fuzzily. “Rape of the mind. Of my free will.”

  “What’s a little rape to a creature like you? Almost got it. There.” She thrust with a thought that felt like a sword being driven into Lavender’s head.

  And fell back, literally. “Oh!”

  “It was a trap, a roadside bomb as it were,” Lavender said. “Another shunt. Only this one led to your own mind. You just knocked out your own free will.”

  “I—I can undo it,” Templa said dizzily.

  “First, listen. There is something you need to know. This was not simply a bounce. It was the installation of a logic gate like the one you put in the animen. When it is activated, it will wipe out your mind in a similar manner. But the activation key is not words. It’s an intention: the mental effort to corrupt or eliminate it. So you will be committing suicide.”

  “Suicide,” Templa echoed, stunned mentally rather than physically. She knew herself to be a fool to fall into this trap. She had been too eager to wrap it up, and became careless. Exactly as Lavender had hoped.

  “Meanwhile, you have a choice,” Lavender continued inexorably. “You can either try to avoid or fight it, knowing that you are flirting with your own destruction. Or you can accept that the battle has been fought and you have lost. You can work with me, using your considerable talents to build the animan paradise below the sea, and to find positive ways to turn the tide on mankind’s destructive impulses so that the world can be saved rather than destroyed. You can have a good life, with considerable power. Only your design to exterminate most of the human species will be changed.”

  Templa stared at her. “Damn you!”

  Then she fell to the floor. Lavender knew from her mind that she was dead. She had suicided rather than surrender.

  “Damn,” Lavender echoed.

  Chapter 27: Roommates

  Turned out, I was a natural at driving a submersible.

  I’d always been a quick study and, really, the thing drove itself once it got moving. Now, as we glided up through the dark water, toward a surface still hundreds of feet above, I finally let myself relax.

  With Templa, aka Villainous, lying dead at our feet, Lavender and I had been faced with some tough decisions. And not just for ourselves, but for the entire world. What to do with the body of the real President of the United States?

  He had been a brave man, courageous in the face of an unpredictable enemy. He had died a painful death while standing up to said enemy. He deserved better than just to rot here in this forgotten cavern. And so, after deliberating, we had reached an agreement, and I had gone back to fetch the body of the fallen president. In doing so, I had seen first-hand the wrath of the volcano people. The plastic city was in ruins: most of it burning or reduced to plastic slush. The animen and aniwomen hadn’t fared much better. I saw their torched, genetically manipulated bones poking up through the melted plastic. Many were frozen in time, in the throes of battle. I felt little sympathy. The animen had chosen sides. Even with the threat of the cut-off switch, they had chosen to follow a woman hell bent on destruction. A decision based on violence rarely ended well for anyone.

  The president, who had died away from the plastic city entrance, and thus away from the burning carnage, had been left unscathed. I had scooped him up and returned him to the submersible, stepping over the dead body of the beautiful—but deranged—form of Templa. We had set off immediately after.

  I sat back in the seat and, careful of my wide set of horns, laced my fingers behind my head. “There are some who might want to misuse the presidential clone for their own
advantage. He’s a simpleton, remember. Any telepath could influence him.”

  “I’ve considered that,” said Lavender. “Which is why he should come back with us.”

  “With us?”

  She nodded. “I’ve scanned the ship above. There are a handful of mindless animen and aniwomen roaming the deck. However, four secret service agents are still alive, presently locked in the brig, deposited there by the animen before we uttered the cut-off switch. The clone is in the galley, eating nachos without the chips.”

  “So, he’s just eating the cheese?”

  “Yes.”

  My stomach growled. I patted it. “Sounds delicious.”

  “Anyway,” said Lavender, shaking her head. “Once on the surface, we’ll swap the dead president with the living clone. I’ll implant the secret service agents with a new memory, one in which the president died fighting for his country, which isn’t very far from the truth. He took awful injuries to his body, eyes, and fingers, but never yielded. I’ll also wipe their memory clean of ever having seen us.”

  “Holy smokes, you can do all of that?”

  “I didn’t know I could, until I saw Templa utilize the full extent of her power. I’m not as strong as her, but I can get close.”

  “So, no one will know of the underground city.”

  “No one except the lava folk, who won't care.”

  I nodded, thinking about it. “And what do we do with the clone?”

  Lavender smiled, and steam literally rose from the corners of her lips. “He’s going home with you, Bull.”

  “Say again.”

  “Meet your new roommate; unless, of course, you want to just toss him overboard.”

  “I’m not a murderer,” I said.

  “Neither am I,” said Lavender. “Which is why he’s going home with you, where you can keep an eye on him.”

  “Great,” I said, although I had a brief and satisfying flash of the clone fetching me beer whenever I needed it.

  “Your getting drunk days are over, Bull. Anyway, from what Templa implied, the clone might have a very short life span. He might only be functioning for another few years.”