Antagonist - Childe Cycle 11 (101 page)

Dahno
raised
his
head,
his
eyes
narrowing,
but
Bleys
held
up
a hand
to
stop
him.

"I
know
how
that
sounds,"
he
said;
"I
didn't
mean
it
as
an
insult. I
was
speaking
in
terms
of
the
historical
forces—I've
told
you
about them
before."

"I
know,"
Dahno
said,
subsiding.
"You're
reminding
me
again that
none
of
us
really
has
much
weight
when
it
comes
to
those forces
of
yours."

A
small
bell
tinkled
from
across
the
plaza,
and
Dahno
raised
his head
and
looked
behind
him.

"I've
got
to
go,"
he
said,
rising
abruptly
to
his
feet.

As
he
strode
away
he
looked
back
over
his
shoulder.
His
face
was veiled
and
distant.

CHAPTER
33

Bleys
lay
on
his
bed
in
a
Lima
hotel
room,
in
a
darkness
relieved only
by
the
ceiling's
artificial
starscape.
This
ceiling
was
unusual, because
it
offered
him
not
just
a
variety
of
clear
sky
settings,
but also
clouds;
and
he
had
chosen
a
sky
that
included
the
planet's moon,
Luna,
as
a
thin
crescent
passing
between
and
behind
occasional
thin
clouds.

This
was
the
kind
of
sky
his
distant
ancestors
had
slept
under. He
wondered
what
influence
skies
like
this
might
have
had
on
the way
humanity
developed;
perhaps
they
encouraged
people
to
wonder,
to
dream,
to
imagine.

It
didn't
help
him
sleep,
though;
and
after
a
while
he
rose.
Although
his
mind
was
churning
with
the
need
to
articulate
some
of his
thoughts,
he
was
unable
to
write.
He
sat
there
for
a
long
moment,
looking
at
the
piece
of
hotel
stationery
before
him.

Was
someone
watching
him,
even
now?

Since
the
day
he
realized
that
anyone
with
the
proper
equipment to
penetrate
his
security
could
read
his
thoughts
in
his
notes,
he
had not
often
indulged
his
habit
of
writing
notes
to
his
own
memory, even
though
he
always
coded
the
notes
as
he
wrote
them.
Any
code could
be
broken
eventually.

Still,
the
process
had
been
soothing
to
him,
as
if
it
allowed
him
to get
a
grasp
on
situations
his
mind
was
having
trouble
dealing
with.

His
hand
put
the
stylus
back
down,
atop
the
paper.
All
the
best hotels
pledged
that
their
rooms
were
checked
frequently
for
spy devices;
but
hotels
were
not
likely
to
be
watching
for
someone
as clever
as
Dahno.
It
did
not
escape
Bleys'
memory
that
it
was
Dahno who
had
made
all
of
Bley
s'
travel
arrangements.

Pulling
on
a
casual
evening
suit,
Bleys
went
down
to
the
street, hoping
to
elude
any
surprised
pursuit
by
hypothetical
watchers.
He pointed
his
wristpad
at
an
automated
taxi
just
dropping
a
fare
at
an entertainment
facility
down
the
block,
calling
it
to
him;
and
went
to another
luxury-class
hotel.
There
he
checked
into
a
single
room, explaining
that
his
luggage
would
be
along
shortly
and
paying
the bill
in
advance.
Dahno
would
be
able
to
trace
his
use
of
the
credit chip,
but
not
quickly
enough
to
set
up
surveillance
inside
the
room.

In
the
room,
with
a
glass
of
ginger
ale
already
forgotten
at
his
elbow,
he
began
to
write.

I'm
surprised
to
find
that
I
still
haven't
figured
out
what
Dahno
is
up to.
I
came
to
Old
Earth
suspecting
him
of
clandestine
dealings
with some
of
my
Others—dealings
perhaps
as
simple
as
efforts
to
safeguard
himself
from
possible
future
dangers.
Those
would
not
concern
me
overmuch:
if
Dahno,
or
others
in
the
organization,
want more
power,
more
wealth,
it
doesn't
matter,
as
long
as
it
doesn't
endanger
my
own
plans.

The
problem
is,
I
have
no
way
of
determining
what
my
brother's motives
really
are—because
I
can't
rely
on
anything
he
lets
me
see.

I'm
used
to
seeing
my
brother
displaying
reactions;
in
almost every
case,
they're
covering
his
true
motives,
his
real
plans.

He
can't
ever
be
completely
open—I
think
because
he
can
never bring
himself
to
trust
anyone.
His
obsession
with
ensuring
his
own independence
demands
that
he
always
have
an
ace
in
the
hole— which
means
that
no
matter
what
motive
or
plan
he
may
reveal, there's
always
a
deeper
layer.

When
he
tells
me
he
merely
wants
to
retire,
and
that
he's
no
danger
to
my
plans,
it's
only
part
of
the
truth.
Which
may
as
well
be
a
lie.

He
tells
me
he
cares
for
me,
his
brother;
I
know
he's
telling
the truth,
but
it's
not
the
whole
truth—he's
shown
before
that
in
time
of crisis
he'll
abandon
me
to
save
himself.

Bleys
paused,
rereading
his
encoded
thoughts
on
the
paper
before
him.
He
wondered
if
he
had
not
just
written
an
epitaph
for
a portion
of
his
life.

For all that he alluded to a need to have some purpose in his life, I don't think Dahno has yet seen that the weakness in his character is that he has no goals, no purpose. In his deep-rooted selfishness, he lives only for the near-term; he thinks farther into the future only in terms of its potential for danger, and he has no room or time or concern for others.

I say this knowing full well that at times he has displayed generosity, and has even risked his life to help someone else. But my brother is a complex person, and while the cheerful, charming Dahno is a real person, so is the Dahno who cares only to get his own way, in everything.

He has always insisted that he's nothing like our mother, but in fact, he's very like her, and only seeks to gratify his own needs.

His needs arc for autonomy, which requires power and wealth, and a challenge, a game he can play to test himself against life. He's too intelligent to be truly sybaritic, to be lured by fame, money, sex, or the more normal vices.

Perhaps it would be accurate to say that he's lured by the feeling that comes when one plays God. But at the same time, he's careful to avoid taking on so great a challenge that he'd be likely to lose. Losing isn't godlike.

In short, Dahno would like to live in a world in which he's perpetually manipulating people, sitting at the center of his spider's web and controlling events by the strings he pulls in secret. And he's too short-sighted to see that even that must grow wearying, eventually— and that there's nothing more behind it.

Without realizing the full implications of what I was doing, when I took control of the organization he had built, I took away his main tool. His only real choices were to contest my control, or move to a new field.

Old Earth may be that new field. He's leaving the Younger Worlds behind.

The problem for both of us is that Old Earth has to be involved in my plans.

Dahno wants his own kingdom of challenges and rewards. He feels like a god, and I'm the other god in the mix (he thinks; he doesn't believe in Hal Mayne). So I must represent a threat to him.