can ever understand you." Francois Andrieux shifted angrily.
"Well, I'll try it," said Blaise decisively, and slid off his stool. Again Tachyon was pleased with his assurance.
As his arms closed about his grandson's small form, tears rushed into his eyes.
"You're crying," Blaise accused. "Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I am so very happy to have found you. To know that you exist in the world."
Bonnell cleared his throat, a discreet little sound. "As loath as I am to interrupt this, I'm really afraid I must, Doctor." Tacbyon stiffened warily. "We have to talk a little business,"
"Business?" The word was dangerously low.
"Yes. I've given you what you want." He indicated Blaise with a flip of a tiny hand. "Now you have to give me what I want. Francois, take him."
Father and son left. Tachyon speculatively studied the remaining men.
"Please don't consider a mind-assisted escape. There are more of us waiting outside this room. And my companions are armed."
" I somehow assumed they would be." Tach settled onto a sagging sofa. It sent up a puff of dust under his weight. "So, you are a member of this little gang of galloping terrorists."
"No, sir, I lead it."
"Umm, and you had Dani killed."
"No. That was an act of blatant stupidity for which Francois has been ... chastised. I disapprove of subordinates acting on their own initiative. They so often screw up. Don't you agree?"
Tachyon's late cousin Rabdan came instantly to mind, and he found himself nodding. Pulled himself up short. There was something very outre about this chatty little conversation, faced as he was with the man who had attempted to kill hundreds at Versailles.
"Oh, dear, and I had so hoped that Andrieux was bright," mused Tachyon, then he asked, "Is this a kidnapping for ransom?"
"Oh, no, Doctor, you're quite beyond price."
"So I've always thought."
"No, I need your help. In two days there will be a great debate between all the presidential candidates. We intend to kill as many of them as we can."
"Even your own candidate?"
"In a revolution sometimes sacrifice is necessary. But for your information, I have little loyalty to the Communist Party. They have betrayed the people, lost the will and the strength to make the difficult decisions. The mandate has passed to us."
Tach rested his forehead on a hand. "Oh, please, don't blurt slogans at me. It's one of the most tiresome things about you people."
"May I outline my plan?"
"I don't see any way I can prevent you."
"The security will undoubtedly be very tight."
"Undoubtedly." Bonnell shot him a sharp glance at the irony. Tachyon gazed innocently back.
"Rather than attempt to run this gauntlet with weapons of our own, we will use those already provided. You and Blaise will mind control as many guards as possible and have them rake the platform with automatic weapons fire. It should have the desired result."
"Interesting, but what can you possibly gain by this?"
"The destruction of France's ruling elite will throw the country into chaos. When that occurs, I won't need your esoteric powers. Guns and bombs will suffice. Sometimes the simplest things are often the best."
"What a philosopher you are. Perhaps you should set yourself up as a guide to the young."
"I already have. I'm Blaise's beloved Uncle Claude."
"Well, this has of course been instructional, but I very much regret that I must refuse."
"Not surprising. I had anticipated this. But consider, Doctor, I hold your grandson."
"You won't harm him, he's too precious to you."
"True. But my threat is not of death. If you refuse to accommodate me in this, I will be forced to have certain very unpleasant things done to you, being careful to ensure that you live. I will then disappear with Blaise. You might find it somewhat difficult to trace us when you are a bedridden cripple."
He smiled in satisfaction at the look of horror on Tachyon's face. "Jean will escort you to your room now. There you can reflect upon my offer and, I'm certain, see your way clear to help me."
"I doubt it," gritted Tachyon, regaining command of his voice, but it was hollow bravado, and Bonnell undoubtedly knew it.
The "room" turned out to be the very cold and dank basement of the house. Hours later Blaise arrived with his dinner.
"I have come to visit with you," he announced, and Tach sighed, again admiring and regretting Bonnell's cunning. The joker had obviously made a careful study of Tachyon, his attitudes and culture.
He ate while Blaise, chin resting in his cupped hands, gazed thoughtfully at him.
Tach set aside his fork. "You are very silent.