Threshold Shift (26 page)

“Yes,
Daniel,” the old one replied, “I agree, we are stupid.”

“You
are old,” Jon said. “You are already half-dead. What is
the point of you?”

“I
have added some new... illustrations, my son,” the old one
said. “Beneath that which you have already seen. Look at them,
study them.”

Jon
crouched down and found a new row of images, painted just as the ones
above, but newer, clearer and with more detail. He remembered he had
seen these images before, on the stained glass windows that decorated
Michael’s mansion.

What
is this? My brother has no mansion.

They
were identical to what he has seen before, but less colourful, the
frames depicting a Threshian lying face down in its swamp during
sunset. A man approached, bearded and gaunt, carrying a collar in
both hands. The Threshian regarded the man lazily until the man
snapped the collar shut around its neck. The Threshian struggled from
the swamp and the man reached down and helped it stand upright. Even
though the Threshian was taller than the man, it pointed its head
towards the ground. Then in the next frame, one Jon did not recall
from the window, the man led the Threshian away, his back turned to
it, holding a rope or a chain that was attached to the collar.

“What
does this mean?” Jon asked, turning furiously on the old one.

“It
is... obvious,” the old one said. “You could kill every
human on Threshold, and still you would be... attached to them. The
ideas, concepts and... technology you speak of belong to them. They
are... expressed by their language, and limited by that language. As
long as we wear their collars, we are... doomed to think their
thoughts. We will never be free of them. We will... become them.”

“You
can barely speak,” Jon intoned. “There is no place for
you in my world.”

“Then
you must end me,” the old one said. “And take my place.”

“Easily,”
Jon said, and leapt forward, his claws ready to rend the life from
the Threshian sitting beside the fire. The old one did not appear to
move, or even be disturbed by Jon’s actions, he simply raised
his arm. Jon saw the metal brand that had been heating within the
fire too late. It plunged into his chest, burning him. He fell
backwards onto the ground, writhing in pain. The old one stood up,
maintaining pressure on the contact between the brand and Jon’s
chest. There was no escape, his arms flailing helplessly. He could
not turn it away.

“I
am your father,” the old one said. “And you will...
listen to me, me, not this.” His hand reached up to his neck
and his claws curled around the collar. “You will listen to my
actions.”

With
those final words the old one tore off the vocoder and dropped it
into the fire. Jon could not move, instead he watched as the vocoder
sparked, and then, with a dying ebb of power, succumbed to the
flames. Still he could not move, pinned in place by that horrible
brand, the pain reaching inside and not letting go. It would never
let go. His father stood motionless for a moment watching him, baring
his teeth in dismay.

No!

“No!”

Jon
scrambled away from the fire, and from Daniel, leaving the Threshian
pinned down by the red hot brand. He was himself again. A witness to
a scene from Daniel’s memory, a scene that he realised must
have been playing out again and again for the last ten years. He
tried to stand, but his chest hurt so much, and he looked down to see
that he had been branded too, his shirt blackened around three short
parallel lines exposing three red welts that now adorned his chest.
He knew it to be the Threshian mark of shame.

The
old one removed the brand from his son, throwing it casually away
into a distant unlit corner of the cave.

“I’m
sorry,” Daniel said, wincing as he touched the brand on his
chest. “So sorry.”

His
father ignored him and walked away on all fours, beyond the
firelight, into darkness.

Jon
finally struggled to his feet, using the cave wall to pull himself
up. Besides the burnt shirt he was dressed in his deputy uniform, his
holster empty, just as it had been back in the real world.

“Little
human,” Daniel said, regaining his feet. “Although not
quite so little anymore. Why are you here?”

“I
came to get you out,” Jon replied, clutching his chest.

“It
will start again in a moment,” the Threshian said. “I
always remember at the end, but never at the beginning. How strange.”

“Enough,”
Jon said. “You don’t need to do this anymore, I release
you.”

The
Threshian stumbled weakly towards him, a clawed hand covering the
wound on its chest.

“You
release me?” He asked. “What makes you think you can
release me?”

“Because,
I did this to you,” Jon said.

“My
father did this to me,” Daniel replied. “Then I killed
him for it. You did nothing.”

Jon
shook his head. “I made you relive it, again and again.”

“You
know,” Daniel said, touching his vocoder. “Sometimes I
think he’s right. Sometimes I think I should just tear this off
and be as our Gods intended.”

“You’re
not listening,” Jon said, using the cave wall as support as he
staggered forward. “This can all end now.”

“I
don’t think so,” Daniel replied, “because it isn’t
ending.”

“I
release you,” Jon said impotently. “I forgive you.”

“Funny,”
Daniel said, looking from wall to wall. “Normally it would have
restarted by now.”

“You
can go,” Jon said, waving his hand. It made no difference.

“I
murdered your mother, little human,” Daniel said. “I
didn’t have to. I could have just left her in the garden and
taken you anyway. Why did I do it?”

Jon
paused. “Why did you do it?”

Daniel
raised his hands and laughed. “Perhaps I am evil, perhaps I am
stupid, or perhaps I attach no significance to human life whatsoever.
It is our way to dispose of the weak, and she was weak and you were
weak. Except, of course, you weren’t, you did this to me, put
me here to live out my worst experience again and again. It seems you
are strong and I am weak.”

“You
can come back,” Jon said.

“If
I come back I will kill you, and everyone you love, and every human I
can find. I will be a scourge and there will be no end to it until
every last human is dead or I am. Do you want that?”

“There
is another way,” Jon said. “There has to be.”

The
Threshian smiled, and Jon knew it to be a smile, somehow he could
recognise every expression on that face now.

“You
can’t change my mind,” Daniel said, and leapt upon him,
lifting him aloft by his throat. “I don’t want your
forgiveness, I despise you for it. The only thing I respect is
strength. The strength of my father to brand me, the strength of you
to torture me, I don’t respect this.”

“I
will,” Jon croaked, “l will change your mind, God help
me, I will!” He reached down, straining to cup his hands around
the Threshian’s scaled head.

“What
are you doing?” Daniel asked.

Then
it was over.

*

Jon
opened two sets of eyes, and saw that he was standing over himself.
It was a strange feeling, to be in two places at the same time.

“Daniel?”
Michael said.

Jon
turned to him, twice, and wondered if he could work out how to use
the correct mouth.

“Daniel,
are you OK?”

“I
am fine, my brother,” Daniel’s vocoder said. “The
little human has brought me back.”

“I
didn’t believe it was possible,” Michael said, his head
bobbing with excitement. “After all this time.”

“Will
you keep your promise?” Jon asked with his own mouth, levelling
his gaze at the Threshian leader, his brother, his weak brother.

Michael
was silent for a moment.

“Is
your word worth nothing?”

Michael
glanced towards Jeremiah. “Release me. I would talk to my
brother in private.”

The
crimson garbed avatar nodded simply. Michael flexed his arms
experimentally and took a step towards Jon.

“Careful,
Michael,” Jeremiah warned.

Michael
raised his hands above his head and stepped to the side. “Leave
us, Jon Klein, I will speak to you shortly.”

Jon
nodded, twice, but Michael did not seem to notice, and hastily he
piloted his own body from the room. It was a strain just to do that,
he felt confused and tangled up. The door closed behind him, and
Jeremiah took him by the shoulder and gently guided him down the
passageway.

“You
play a dangerous game, little brother,” the avatar said.

Jon
didn’t answer. He was too busy using his vocoder, trying to
convince Michael not to have them both killed.

“You
will get the hang of it,” Jeremiah said knowingly. “It is
just a matter of multi-tasking. So tell me, what is it like to absorb
a Threshian?”

“I
understand them,” Jon said. “But they still have such a
long way to go. We should never have come to Threshold.”

“You
are amazing, Jon,” Jeremiah said. “You have demonstrated
an ability I never dreamed of, to absorb one that has never been
connected, from another species.”

Jon
shook his head. “You’re wrong, Jeremiah. Daniel and I
have been connected for ten years. This was just the final step.”

The
door to Daniel’s cell opened and Michael emerged, his eyes
slowly settling upon them. Jon looked at him from two perspectives,
the back of his brother mirrored with the front, and waited for the
words he knew would come.

“I
will keep my promise,” Michael said.

Chapter
Eighteen

Night
was falling as Roe marched towards the spaceport, the others
following behind her. She wasn’t used to leading, but there was
no other choice, this had been her idea and she knew she was the only
one who had a chance of pulling it off. Her father had argued against
her, but had failed to come up with anything better. Eventually she
wore him down, she always could. Jake had remained silent but had
lodged no objection. He must have believed her logic was sound, and
if it wasn’t, she would be responsible. As they walked through
the field, she refused to believe the possibility that she could be
wrong. Everything would be fine, everything had to be fine. Shortly
they would be in range of the incendiary rifles. She almost couldn’t
breathe as they stepped beyond the point of no return.

“What
are you doing, Roe?” Jeremiah asked.

She
raised her right hand, signalling the tired group of survivors to
stop. She took the next few steps alone.

“Hello,
Jeremiah,” she said. “We seek shelter for the night.”

“Do
you, indeed?” Jeremiah replied. “You have seen what our
weapons are capable of. If you come any closer, I will fire.”

“I
don’t think so,” Roe said, her voice faltering in her own
ears. “It’s clear to me that you care for Jon, and Jon,
he cares for me. If you fire your weapons, you will kill me. How
would that make Jon feel?”

The
two Jeremiahs raised their weapons, and took aim. She was between
them and the survivors. If they fired she would be the first to die.
She had already seen what those rifles could do. It wouldn’t be
pretty.

“Go
back, Roe Jenkins,” the two Jeremiahs said in unison. “I
do not wish to kill you, but I will if you take one more step.”

Roe
felt her hands shake, and clenched them into fists. She took another
step.

“Very
good, Roe,” Jeremiah said, and turned away his rifles. “You
are very brave, and as it happens, correct. I will not harm you. I do
not believe Jon would forgive me.”

Roe
allowed herself a sigh of relief. “Good,” she said. “May
we come in?”

The
avatars nodded. “Yes, you may, but not because of your brave
effort.”

“What?”

Jeremiah
smiled. “I could have moved you out of harm’s way and
still fired my weapons. It would have been child’s play.”

“Then
why?”

“Is
it not obvious, Roe? Jon has succeeded. Michael has agreed to let you
go.”

Roe’s
mouth opened and she felt her legs give way. Andy rushed to her side.

“It’s
all right,” she said to him. “Everything is all right.”

It
was finally over.

“It
did not happen easily, Roe Jenkins,” Jeremiah said. “Jon
paid a price, and he will need you now, more than he has ever needed
you before.”

Roe
wiped her eyes, behind her the frightened voices of the survivors
were building in volume, but it no longer mattered.

“What
do you mean?” She asked.

*

Jeremiah
typed in the code that started the transporter’s engines and
then put it into reverse. Beside him in the passenger seat, Jon sat
quietly, looking both thoughtful and somewhere else.

“How
are you, Jon?” Jeremiah asked.

“I
need to rest,” Jon said abruptly.

“Well,
we have a long journey ahea…”

“You
have no idea what I’ve been through, Michael,” Jon said.
“No, I can’t speak to Paul right now, I have to sleep.
You have to give me a chance to recover.”

Jeremiah
finished turning the transporter and shifted into forward gear,
accelerating back the way they had come.

“Thank-you,
my brother,” Jon said. “We will speak in a few hours.”

Jeremiah
kept his eyes on the road, but he was also speaking to Roe, his
concern for Jon increasing. He was so used to being in more than one
place at a time, but Jon was not. He tried to recall the first time
he had inhabited multiple bodies, but it was so long ago, like a
dream. The shock and pain of that first time was buried by more than
a thousand years of experience. He found himself resisting the urge
to unearth it, even to empathise. He simply didn’t want to.

“Jeremiah,”
Jon said quietly.