consultant smiled, enigmatically, into his beard.
‘I don’t know about allowed , but I know about that one. It’s an Aleister Crowley spell, that my father liked. Crowley couldn’t begin to do it: Rufus made it work. You die, but subjectively you stay conscious in your body while it rots, for all eternity. I think that’s where the real Fergal Kearney was, when Rufus inhabited his shell. There may have been others. I hope, I believe, they were freed, that night.’
The abyss between what she and Sage had done at Drumbeg, and these disconcerted, sulky suits, was threatening to unhinge her. ‘I didn’t explain that very well,’ she added, limpidly. ‘I could try again, see if I can help you all to understand?’
One of Fiorinda’s beardless counsellors kicked her under the table.
Okay, okay. Only joking.
She glanced at her slate, and stood again, for her closing remarks.
‘Well, that seems to be it. Perhaps you now realise, if you didn’t before, why the US Neurobomb research has been abandoned. A schizophrenic human weapon of mass destruction is untenable, there are logical constraints that mean you can’t have any other kind, and that’s the end of that. The term “Fat Boy” is a reference to the early nuclear devices, and the analogy seems apt. The weapon of all weapons has twice been demonstrated in anger. I predict it will now sink into a long, uneasy retirement. Perhaps Global Thermonuclear War wouldn’t be so bad after all, but who would like to try? The known cost is too high, even for the winners: the risk of truly awful unplanned consequences too impressive. Perhaps tactical, limited “occult” weaponry could be developed, but who would dare? My recommendation, and I speak for the Triumvirate, is that we join our neighbour nations, and support President Eiffrich’s call for a total ban.’
Wales, Ireland and Scotland supported Eiffrich, as did the Nordic countries. The EU as a body had as yet no official stance.
‘Ms Slater,’ Jack Vries stood out, in the subdued shades of the other faces, as if he drew the light. ‘With respect, isn’t there, in everything you’ve recounted, an equally strong argument for a deterrent? Though we all deeply admire—’
‘Get a grip,’ cried Chip, bouncing in his seat. ‘What are you thinking of, man? The oil’s gone. Doesn’t that convince you? The Hell Dimension scenario isn’t bleeding heart loony tunes. It’s hard science, a threat with teeth and hair!’
They just went on looking mildly affronted, annoyed that they’d wasted their time. The token Doves were not going to cheep, and no Hawk had been swayed by Fiorinda’s deposition. Boris the Culham physicist had been making careful notes (a flicker in the back of his eyes).
‘Ms Slater, one last couple of questions, would that be okay?’
‘Go ahead.’
‘The Reich collected data on a steep rise in reports of paranormal activity, during Ax’s so-called “dictatorship”. Is it possible to have access?’
‘I’m sorry. The records were destroyed in a police raid.’
‘Okay, but… As I understand it, Neurophysics theory says the incidence of “leaky minds” is likely to have been constant, a normal Bell curve, since soon after modern consciousness emerged. Rufus was an anomaly, the ‘A’ team was a construction, impossible in nature. I’m interested in the nuclear device analogy, in relation to a non-time-bound event. Could the rise you tracked have been objective, a “fall out” effect from the two, nominally anterior, fusion events?’
Not just a pretty face.
‘What a scary thought! I’m sorry Boris, that’s beyond me. For what it’s worth, I think cultural change accounts for the apparent increase. We did investigate, though we couldn’t keep up with it all, and never found anything in England that would stand up to scrutiny. But there’s something—’
The physicist nodded, waiting.
‘I was close to the event in Ireland. My brain is normal, what my
‘I don’t know about allowed , but I know about that one. It’s an Aleister Crowley spell, that my father liked. Crowley couldn’t begin to do it: Rufus made it work. You die, but subjectively you stay conscious in your body while it rots, for all eternity. I think that’s where the real Fergal Kearney was, when Rufus inhabited his shell. There may have been others. I hope, I believe, they were freed, that night.’
The abyss between what she and Sage had done at Drumbeg, and these disconcerted, sulky suits, was threatening to unhinge her. ‘I didn’t explain that very well,’ she added, limpidly. ‘I could try again, see if I can help you all to understand?’
One of Fiorinda’s beardless counsellors kicked her under the table.
Okay, okay. Only joking.
She glanced at her slate, and stood again, for her closing remarks.
‘Well, that seems to be it. Perhaps you now realise, if you didn’t before, why the US Neurobomb research has been abandoned. A schizophrenic human weapon of mass destruction is untenable, there are logical constraints that mean you can’t have any other kind, and that’s the end of that. The term “Fat Boy” is a reference to the early nuclear devices, and the analogy seems apt. The weapon of all weapons has twice been demonstrated in anger. I predict it will now sink into a long, uneasy retirement. Perhaps Global Thermonuclear War wouldn’t be so bad after all, but who would like to try? The known cost is too high, even for the winners: the risk of truly awful unplanned consequences too impressive. Perhaps tactical, limited “occult” weaponry could be developed, but who would dare? My recommendation, and I speak for the Triumvirate, is that we join our neighbour nations, and support President Eiffrich’s call for a total ban.’
Wales, Ireland and Scotland supported Eiffrich, as did the Nordic countries. The EU as a body had as yet no official stance.
‘Ms Slater,’ Jack Vries stood out, in the subdued shades of the other faces, as if he drew the light. ‘With respect, isn’t there, in everything you’ve recounted, an equally strong argument for a deterrent? Though we all deeply admire—’
‘Get a grip,’ cried Chip, bouncing in his seat. ‘What are you thinking of, man? The oil’s gone. Doesn’t that convince you? The Hell Dimension scenario isn’t bleeding heart loony tunes. It’s hard science, a threat with teeth and hair!’
They just went on looking mildly affronted, annoyed that they’d wasted their time. The token Doves were not going to cheep, and no Hawk had been swayed by Fiorinda’s deposition. Boris the Culham physicist had been making careful notes (a flicker in the back of his eyes).
‘Ms Slater, one last couple of questions, would that be okay?’
‘Go ahead.’
‘The Reich collected data on a steep rise in reports of paranormal activity, during Ax’s so-called “dictatorship”. Is it possible to have access?’
‘I’m sorry. The records were destroyed in a police raid.’
‘Okay, but… As I understand it, Neurophysics theory says the incidence of “leaky minds” is likely to have been constant, a normal Bell curve, since soon after modern consciousness emerged. Rufus was an anomaly, the ‘A’ team was a construction, impossible in nature. I’m interested in the nuclear device analogy, in relation to a non-time-bound event. Could the rise you tracked have been objective, a “fall out” effect from the two, nominally anterior, fusion events?’
Not just a pretty face.
‘What a scary thought! I’m sorry Boris, that’s beyond me. For what it’s worth, I think cultural change accounts for the apparent increase. We did investigate, though we couldn’t keep up with it all, and never found anything in England that would stand up to scrutiny. But there’s something—’
The physicist nodded, waiting.
‘I was close to the event in Ireland. My brain is normal, what my
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