CONDEMNED TO THE FUTURE

Chapter 21.

                                                         

A full head taller, with broad dark Amerind features and collar-long brown hair, A.H. looked exactly the same as when Georg had last seen him...when he had tortured him and Joan. The blazing white onesuit covered his lanky big-shouldered frame like a fitted robe, and he stood at ease, barefoot on the plush musky grass by the gargling stream at the platform's edge.

A.H. smiled at his awestruck look and laughed so hugely the air around them vibrated, proving this was not a holo image. "Welcome back, tovarich!" He sighed when Georg couldn't respond and nodded. "I know, I know. It's quite a shock; just use your baasa."

Gratefully, Georg flung it around them. The instant his field touched the flint-hard mind, it blossomed open to admit him with a flare of power his former friend had never possessed. Yet Georg did not recoil in the least. So intense was his curiosity, his need for answers, that he slid into merge without pause. He had been the master in his former life, the undeniably superior wielder of both power and skill over this man. But now he knew A.H. had been practicing too. And he knew many other things.

This was his nhumbie sibling, despite the fundamental change in his telepowers...and other, inevitable, changes he sensed only vaguely. So, A.H. had also traversed these millennia, in impeded animation or other, supertech means. The second priority answer Georg wanted was simply...forgiveness. The word formed as though placed there by his old friend, to pierce the wall of hot tension between Georg and this man he'd betrayed and harmed. The emotion itself flowed from this word: A.H. held no grudge, no trace of hunger for revenge. Indeed, he was even surprised by the query. Georg's long sleep had been enough punishment for all that had passed and was past; he could almost hear the sardonic chuckle in their partly overlapped mind.

But it was clearly A.H.'s thoughts singing with built-in humor :: "As you always vowed, you'd rather light a flamethrower than curse the dark!"

The third most important truth he needed was about this present reality into which he'd been untimely thrust. His desire was acknowledged; the promise to answer it completely was made. That was why he'd been brought here. The agreement was mutual. Whatever his former, and renewed, friend told him he would/must believe. As the merge snapped apart, he clutched desperately at the relief it offered, felt drained by its power and results.

With a wide smile, A.H. held out a hand to Georg, who did not feel at all silly when he stepped in to embrace him and actually lift the larger man off his feet.

"Hey! That's easy in low g, tovarich. But this won't do you much good here."

Georg dropped him and held up the pistol he still clutched, his current flamethrower. "I'm still a good planner...tovarich."

The deep brown eyes sparkled with humor. "Very true, but you're not going to change the future with that." He put large hands on Georg's shoulders, ignoring his chagrined look.

Georg tapped Thursday's leg with a boot to rouse him. It was obvious A.H. had been the "God" Thursday had seen at Georg's own repository on Olympus. But his prodding failed even to get the native to open his tightly shut eyes, skin roiling darkly in a novel patterning.

A.H. squatted to place a palm onto the native's heaving chest. Only after his eyes finally opened wide did A.H. speak slowly and kindly, pressing when Thursday squirmed at first.

"I must talk with my Son for some time. Would you like to see my home in the sky? It is open to you. Just walk that way. There's water, and food when you need it."