Chapter #38The Secret History of Julian Dey, Part 1 by: Seuzz   Thirty months ago.
You sit in your dimly lit living room, jogging a leg nervously. You hate surprises, and the call from Hyde-White certainly qualifies as a surprise. The old fucker is never less than courteous to you, but never more. For him to want to see you like this--at home, in the evening, without telling you what it's about--
You've done your best for him, played every underhanded trick you could to jockey ahead of Patterson for his favor. But there's no missing the warmth in Hyde-White's smile when he speaks to or about Patterson, and the chill when he's addressing you.
The bell rings, and you jump to your feet. You give yourself a quick glance in the mirror, and smooth away as much worry as you can. You force your tight smile to relax as you open the door.
"Julian," Jameson Hyde-White says, and his own smile is broad and bright. "I do apologize for the hour and-- Thank you, dear boy," he says as you help him remove his overcoat. "And this is for you." He hands you a brown paper bag. Inside is a bottle of very nice, very expensive champagne.
Is he about to sack you?
"Well, I suppose we should get it all out before we open that," the professor says as you lead him into the living room. "It's not a celebration if you don't know what you're celebrating, is it?"
"So it's good news, sir?"
"Oh, decidedly." He sits in your easy chair and crosses his legs, but you remain standing. "The committee has given me Project Vulcan."
That is news. "They green-lighted it this afternoon?"
"Yes. The acquisitions of the last year, especially since Cuthbert, more than amply justify it." There's something obscene about the way he rubs his hands together. "And Vulcan will be the heart of Dark Stars. Mimir may be where the theoretical work is done, and Huangdi may coordinate. But Vulcan will handle the practical applications. All the other Projects will have to work with us, and very closely."
"Then congratulations to you, sir." You hold out the bottle to him.
"To us, Julian," he says. "You will be joining me, as my lieutenant."
Your jaw drops, for that bit is very unexpected. "Thank you, sir. Thank you very much. Er, how much staffing will we need to put in place?"
Amusement flickers in his eyes. "You're asking about Mr. Patterson, aren't you? He will be remaining at Diana. He's being promoted to manage it, in fact."
Pleasure at your lateral move to the very important Project Vulcan battles envy at Patterson's promotion at Project Diana. "Then this is for Steve, too, I suppose," you say, lifting the bottle.
"I'll take him his bottle later. And don't look so chagrined, Julian. We'll be taking Diana's toys with us. Mr. Patterson will have to come to us if he wants any more."
You struggle to look pleased. "Not that I would change places with Steve-- Er, so to speak," you add as Hyde-White chuckles. "But isn't he a little green to be taking over something as important as Diana?"
"Yes, he is. Which is why I will be mentoring him from my new position." Hyde-White smiles very broadly.
Cunning bastard. He will have control of two of the Dark Stars Projects now. "So I should regard my move to Vulcan as a compliment of sorts."
"I hope you do," Hyde-White says. "A promotion and gesture of confidence in your skills. You are a very capable young man, and have great things ahead of you. Especially--" He lays his finger against his nose. "At Vulcan."
You bow your head. "Thank you, sir. Well, let me open this--"
"Before you do, dear boy--" Hyde-White pauses. "I want you to understand that I understand you. You feel that I have favored Mr. Patterson; perhaps, you feel that I have a greater personal affection for him. You don't have to answer," he says as you smile tightly. "I am well aware of the atmosphere between us. It's been correct but rather cold. You misapprehend it, however. I am fatherly toward Mr. Patterson because he is juvenile. You, Julian, are an adult. I would not take you with me otherwise. I would not take you, if you did not have my absolute confidence."
You'd like to believe he's telling the truth; you'd really like to believe it. You can only smile self-deprecatingly.
"Let me show you the kind of confidence I have in you, Julian," he says, and from his pocket he draws a metal band.
You've seen them before, of course: stock in trade for Project Diana, one of the earliest items that they learned to make after seizing the Libra Personae. It is an occult metal headband that absorbs the mind, persona, and memories of a person, and allows others to wear and experience them. Hyde-White extends this one to you, and his name--FREDERICK JAMESON DOUGLASS HYDE-WHITE--floats above it in glowing letters. You can only give him a puzzled look in return.
"Put it on, dear boy," he says softly.
Your eyes widen and your jaw drops.
"Yes. I told you, I have every confidence in you. Everything I have, I will share with you, so that you see I am in earnest. I want you to understand me, so that we can work in perfect harmony. And to show how intimately I respect and trust you."
"I--" You swallow and stammer. "It's a-- er-- a tremendous gesture, sir. You don't--" But he gestures at you firmly. "I should make one myself, and show you--"
"Not at all necessary, dear boy. As I say, I trust you entirely. This is so that you will banish any lingering misapprehensions you have about me."
You're glad he is being so insistent; it wouldn't do to greedily slap it to your forehead, and learn all his secrets, as you ardently wish. You feign reluctance for a few more moments, then with a weak smile of gratitude raise it to your forehead.
Only as it touches your forehead do you wonder: Why are the letters of his name red instead of blue?
* * * * *
"Hm," Hyde-White says. "Do we understand each other?"
"Perfectly, old boy," you reply. "We judged him perfectly too, the greedy little--"
"Don't abuse yourself," he snaps. "You must continue in character as our dear Julian Dey, though with a bit more devotion than is his wont."
"Then let's celebrate with something a little more manly," you reply, and go into the kitchen.
"Is there anything I need to know?" he calls as you fetch down the bottle of Scotch.
"I don't think so. Dey might have been a scamp and a scoundrel, but he was too frightened to do anything." Not technically a lie. "What about you? I have the impression that we're ... undecided whether to bring Mr. Patterson into this same circle of mutual accord."
"Yes. I mean, I am undecided. I thought to see what your instincts were."
"It would be useful for keeping Diana under control. We might have the toys, but they will be running the agents."
"A good point," he says after thoughtful pause. "An excellent one. Yes, you are quite convincing."
"I thought I would be," you dryly reply as you pour the drinks.
"Yes. You will stay at Diana, and Mr. Patterson will join me at Vulcan."
"What?" You go to the doorway and look out with a frown.
"These devices are too rare and powerful to be cast around casually," he says. "Julian needed close managing--his native treachery is too obvious. Mr. Patterson I can dominate quite safely without them. It makes more sense that he should be with me while you manage Diana for us."
You keep your face a frozen mask while fury boils up behind, and turn back into the kitchen. You recognize that tone of voice, one that you--
Intellectually, you know that you are really Julian Dey, being dominated by the mind and spirit of Jameson Hyde-White. But for that very reason you feel that you are Jameson Hyde-White. And the thought of being exiled to Diana, to manage that backwater while the original Hyde-White ascends like a god to Project Vulcan, fills you with rage. They gave Vulcan to you. It should be yours. It will be yours.
You open the freezer and with tongs extract the special ice cubes. Was Julian Dey too frightened to act against his mentor? Yes, but that doesn't mean he didn't have the means, or that he hadn't prepared. You drop the cubes into one of the tumblers, and take it into the living room to give to your alter ego.
He raises an eyebrow at the fact that you've not taken ice. "I'm afraid I've got Julian Dey's palate now," you reply in explanation. "Well, we've all got to make sacrifices." You raise your glass in a toast. Hyde-White raises his.
Fifteen seconds later he begins to choke. A minute later, he is in an irreversible coma. You'll have to thank Braddock at Project Ishtar again for the untraceable poison.
* * * * *
Your promotion to Acting Director of Project Vulcan isn't quite a formality, but you had spoke so glowingly of Dey--
You will have to do something about that persistent sense that you are Jameson Hyde-White; you'll slip one of these days if you don't. I am supposed to be Julian Dey; I am supposed to be Julian Dey.
So: But Hyde-White had spoken so glowingly of you that there isn't much fuss. Patterson congratulates you with cool grace while pointedly wondering how long the professor might be in that coma. You just as graciously express the hope that it will only be temporary.  You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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