Mutant Star by Karen Haber Read Free Book Online

me.”
    “Tell me about your brave new world at the lab. How goes the flare research?”
    Julian hesitated. He didn’t really want to talk about the work he was doing. But he didn’t want to be rude, either.
    “It’s very interesting,” he said. “I’ve only seen one image so far.”
    “What kind?”
    “A woman, dressed in white.”
    “What does that mean? Did you recognize her?”
    “No,” Julian said. “And I don’t want to interpret it. We’ve got a lot of theories about the possible precognitive content of flares, but not much to go on. Yet.”
    Narlydda shook her head. “I always thought that was flap-doodle. Wishful thinking by a bunch of mutant scientists.”
    “It’s not wishful thinking.” Julian’s voice was louder than he’d intended. But Narlydda had nettled him.
    “You mean they’ve proved that there’s true precognitive material available through the flares?”
    “Not exactly.”
    She flashed him a triumphant look. “I thought so.”
    “I’m sure we’ll decode the content of the flares eventually.”
    “Don’t get offended, Julian.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Regardless of what it all means, I’m sure it’s fabulous to see. In fact, I’d love to take a stab at it.” Her eyes were glittering suddenly.
    Julian looked away. “Only telepaths can read the flares.”
    “Oh.” She gave him an ironic smile. “What a shame. Well, I guess you aren’t afraid.”
    “Of what?”
    “Of the flares.”
    “Why should I be? Somebody else has them. I just ride them telepathically.”
    “To me, flares always meant pain and madness.”
    “Maybe to your generation and those before you,” Julian said. “But now we have drugs to control them.” He shifted from one foot to another, suddenly uncomfortable. “I mean, I know my grandfather died from the flares, but that was before Percolin and the other dampers were invented. No, I’m not afraid of flares.”
    “Good. I wish I shared that feeling.” Narlydda shivered delicately, “Be careful, Julian.”
    “Don’t worry.”
    “That’s an aunt’s prerogative.” She smiled. “And please keep me informed of your progress. The aesthetic possibilities in this sound intriguing. Maybe someday nontelepaths will get a peek into the flares, too. But right now, I think Guindelle’s about to reconvene.” She paused, and her smile disappeared. “I do hope your brother decides to rejoin us soon.”
    But Rick did not return. Nor did Alanna.
    The cry went out: “Call to order.”
    Everyone took their seats.
    “Ready for the vote?”
    The crowd answered affirmative.
    The tally went quickly, without any surprises. Vincent Guindelle triumphed over Paula Byrne and was elected Book Keeper for the Western Mutant Council. He accepted with a few grateful remarks.
    Byrne conceded less graciously. She stormed to the podium, her black robes flying, her white hair bobbing around her head like a low cloud. “I’d hoped you’d learned,” she said. “But the erosion of values, of traditions, continues. When will you see the error of your ways? Return to the Book. Before it’s too late! Cast out the outsiders or lose your heritage.”
    “Sit down, Paula!”
    “Better yet, go home.”
    Did she really think she ever had a chance?
    We should throw her out. She’s crazy. Wants to turn the Book into some sort of religion. Nonbelievers! Where does she think she is?
    “You saw the vote. See you later. Or never.”
    “She won’t be happy until she infects the entire mutant community with her paranoid ideas.”
    To the mocking chorus of shouts and mindspeech, Paula Byrne strode from the hall followed by five or six of her faithful.
    “Now come to order,” Vincent Guindelle called. “Quiet. We must have quiet.”
    The catcalls subsided.
    “The work of the artist Narlydda is well known,” Guindelle said. “And we are honored to have her among us. Today she has brought us a rare gift to hang in the Council hall.”
    A bulky parcel floated toward