V_The 2nd Generation

by Kenneth Johnson

  Willy turned away quickly so he wouldn't be noticed by Ted. The scaly-faced teen was introducing himself to Teammate Debra Stein, who looked particularly aggravated. "Debra? I'm Ted. They told me I was partnered up with you." He held out his scaly hand to her, but she ignored it.

  "Just not too close, okay, pal," she couldn't have been sourer, "I can't believe they stuck me with a goddamn dreg."

  Out of the corner of his eye, Willy watched Ted departing among the enemy. Willy sadly realized that it must have been his son who had informed on Harmy and gotten her arrested.

  "Here's your prisoner," the sergeant called out and Willy turned to see his wife. Harmy looked terrible. Her cheek and arms were bruised. When she finally raised her downcast eyes and realized her escort was Willy he gave her a sharp warning look to quell her reaction as he grabbed her roughly.

  "Come on, you." Then he nodded thanks to the sergeant, adding, "She's in good hands."

  As Willy guided her out of the busy station Harmy whispered worriedly to him, "Oh, my God, you forged the transfer papers!"

  "I would've done anything." They left by a side door and were so intent upon each other that they didn't notice the pre-teen half-breed handcuffed to a bench nearby.

  Ruby did not see them either. A few minutes earlier she had been moved to the bench just outside of the interrogation room. She was putting on a brave front, but the twelve-year-old was truly frightened by the ordeal that she knew lay ahead of her.

  16

  WHETHER OR NOT TO TAKE THE THREE MYSTERIOUS NEWCOMERS into the confidence of the Resistance was a major decision for Julie. She had, as always, listened to the thoughts of her compatriots. Some were in favor of it, some opposed. Even more than their words and ideas, Julie tried to feel the temperature of their various emotions. In the midst of doing that she recalled, as she had so many times during leadership crises over the years, the moment two decades earlier when she'd had a breakdown over the huge responsibility that had somehow been thrust upon her.

  The fledgling Resistance group had just established its first piecemeal headquarters in the partially collapsed basement of an old bank building. Julie had stepped forward a couple of times to volunteer her energies and take on a task when no one else was willing. Because of that, everyone somehow had assumed that Julie was the prime coordinator of the Resistance. They proceeded to barrage her with a thousand questions and problems. She had never sought the weight of leadership and often tried to dodge it because it was becoming an increasingly overwhelming burden for her. But like nature itself, Julie abhorred a vacuum. Whenever one occurred, whenever a pressing need appeared and no one else came forward to deal with it, Julie stepped up and took it on.

  At the end of a particularly long and trying day back then, a day filled with dozens of other tribulations, which Julie had already struggled to resolve, she had been attending to one of those myriad troubles. She was trying to fix a leaky pipe in a dark basement corner. It was spewing icy water in her face as she struggled alone with an outsized wrench to shut it off. When the heavy wrench slipped and bashed her knuckles, painfully bloodying them, she finally lost control, beating the iron tool furiously against the pipe in an angry tantrum, then slamming it to the concrete floor while her diminutive body shook with infuriated sobs.

  The oldest member of her company was passing and saw Julie's distress. Ruby Brown, gray-haired and seventy-five years old, came immediately to Julie's aid. The young intern literally collapsed into Ruby's grandmotherly arms, saying that she simply wasn't up to the challenges of this kind of leadership. She was just an intern, not some kind of rebel leader. Julie couldn't handle it. She wanted out. Old Ruby held her tightly, quietly saying that these were the times that tried men's souls. And women's. Then she gazed into Julie's eyes and went on, "I'll tell you why we all look to you: because you're a Natural Leader."

  "Oh, but Ruby," Julie said through exhausted tears, "I don't feel that."

  "It doesn't matter," the older lady said confidently, "we feel it." Then she focused on Julie's liquid blue eyes to drive home the point, "Trust yourself, Juliet. Trust your instincts."

  Julie tried to absorb the advice, yet she was unconvinced she truly had the mettle that Ruby ascribed to her. "But what if I don't know all the answers?"

  The older woman looked away momentarily, considering, then she finally met Julie's eyes again and shrugged. "Fake it. What the hell. We won't know the difference."

  Julie had laughed through her tears in that moment. And two decades later it still made her smile to think about it. Julie certainly hadn't always been right, but her batting average was well above five hundred.

  A few years later, Ruby Brown was killed, shot in the back by a teenage Teammate. But Julie felt that the wise older woman was nonetheless always with her. And when Julie delivered a little half-breed girl whose mother died without giving the child a name, Julie memorialized her dear old friend by passing along her name to the infant who became Julie's own adopted daughter.

  And now, when faced with perhaps the biggest decision she'd ever faced as a leader, a decision that might either mean the end of the Resistance or its salvation, Julie remembered old Ruby's wisdom and sage advice. Julie studied the Zedti carefully, weighed all the options, looked deep within her heart, and went with her instincts. She inhaled a deep breath and decided to take the three aliens into the confidence of the Resistance.

  In the communications truck at the Resistance headquarters Margarita was standing beside a rack of small screens. Their sizes were mismatched and many had been jury-rigged to fit into the old metal rack. The screens showed glimpses of various cities in other countries as she explained to the Zedti, "We coordinate 207 Resistance cells worldwide. What you see here in this warehouse is typical of our operations in cities around this country and the world. We're linked by radio channels that Ysabel encrypted. The encoding also makes our cell phones and two-ways untraceable." She rested her hand on the proud Latina's shoulder. "There used to be many more of us, until Diana created her Teammates."

  Julie leaned on her cane nearby and picked up the story, "And we were severely crippled by Diana's Great Purge in 1999. We've been regrouping as fast as we can, because we know this will be our last stand."

  "We do still have a few spies among them. One in their Flagship's Centcom," Margarita added.

  Ayden was encouraged. "So some still oppose their Leader?"

  "A very few," said Margarita, "but they're devoted to us."

  Ayden's strong eyes held theirs. "And what is your strategy?"

  "We've been working on a number of fronts simultaneously," Julie said. "Dr. Robert Maxwell leads a team trying to create a biological weapon we could use against them. Some sort of magic bullet that would spread like a virus and either kill or incapacitate the Visitors."

  "For a lot of us, including Julie," Margarita elaborated, "that poses a thorny moral question, particularly as regards those Visitors who are on our side becoming infected and dying."

  "Our scientists have also sought such a biological weapon," Ayden said, "without success. Have you achieved one?"

  "No, not yet." Julie sighed. "The work continues, but we don't have a lot of hope. So we're focused primarily on trying to move from isolated guerrilla warfare to inciting mass insurrection." Her hand had emphasized the words. "We feel that's our only real hope."

  Margarita, the student of history, carried on, "Revolutions are only won when the masses of people mobilize to act. So far, most people are too scared by the Visitors' hyper-power and strength."

  Julie held up a vid disk. "We're getting out more and more of these that show the truth, but Visitor media control is so pervasive it's like trying to climb up Niagara Falls."

  "When there was a Niagara Falls," Ysabel interjected. "What the people of Earth need is a major catalyst to jump-start 'em."

  Julie agreed, "Hopefully your arrival will be that, Ayden."

  The Zedti was thoughtful. "Hopefully."

  As Ayden
and the others stepped out of the truck, Street-C who had been watching from nearby whispered warily to Blue and Gary, "You think these suckers are legit?"

  The blue-collar worker shrugged. "They were fighting on our side, man."

  Gary was more wary, quoting a classic Oscar Hammerstein lyric, " 'If allies are strong with power to protect me, might they not protect me out of all I own?' "

  Across the warehouse, Kayta moved closer to where Donovan was propped up on his cot wearing someone's faded Berkeley sweatshirt and a pair of gray boxer shorts. From the moment she'd first seen him her keen senses had detected something out of the ordinary and it was puzzling her. Mike noticed her expression. "What is it?"

  Kayta frowned, unable to determine precisely what she was detecting. "I was . . . sensing something . . . odd."

  He chortled darkly. "Probably just my bad vibes."

  She looked at him a moment longer, but couldn't quite discern what was troubling her. Then she asked quietly, "May I touch your legs?"

  He shrugged. "I wouldn't know if you did."

  She sat down on a box nearby. Her fingertips lightly touched the skin just above and below his knees. She examined him carefully, with her eyes closed. Then she sat up and seemed to be considering several options. Finally she looked directly at Mike. "Can you stand some pain?"

  He frowned derisively. "What are you talking about?"

  "Do you want to walk again?"

  Mike stared at her, studying her violet eyes, as Ysabel leaned out of the comm truck, calling to Julie, "Emma found out that Ruby was captured!"

  "Oh, my God!" Julie was on her feet instantly. "Where is she?"

  Ysabel was reluctant to say, "Parnassas."

  "Jesus"—Blue felt his blood congeal—"she's just a kid! If they torture her—"

  "Yeah"—Street-C swallowed hard—"and she knows everything." He was grabbing a weapon. "It could be worse than '99!"

  "We've got to get her out of there!" Julie was headed toward the door, but Margarita snagged her.

  "No. You pack up this place; we'll get her out."

  Julie was more fiery than Margarita had ever seen her. "She's my daughter!"

  Nathan was right beside her. "And they know that. They'd like nothing better than to lure you in. Let us get her out, Julie, we'll do it"—then he looked pointedly at the Zedti, throwing down the gauntlet—"won't we?"

  Ayden's firm amber eyes met Nathan's and accepted the challenge.

  EMMA WAS IN THE CONTROL ROOM OF THE SMALL RECORDING STUdio that she had built into the lower level of her condo. With her favorite audio technician, Westie, the graying grandson of hippies and a long-haired throwback, she had been remixing a new vocal track into her latest song. But her mind had been on the amorous morning she'd spent with Mark and even more focused on the fate of Julie's young daughter who was facing interrogation.

  When the phone rang on the console she saw the caller ID and said to Westie, "Give me a second, will you?" He got the message and left her alone. She picked up the receiver and turned on her considerable charm. "I thought you'd forgotten me."

  Paul was in his office aboard the Flagship, stroking a squirmy young ferret as he spoke into his speakerphone. "I could never. But I wanted to apologize."

  "For what?"

  "I've been pressing you too hard, I think."

  She listened more attentively. "Pressing me? To do what?"

  "To take our relationship to the next level," he said, pausing to be certain she understood. "So I'll ease back, hope that absence makes your heart grow fonder."

  They were not talking on vid phones so Emma couldn't see Paul open his mouth to the size of a grapefruit and swallow the ferret whole and alive. But she clearly understood his innuendo. Thinking of intimate sex with a reptilian creature made her chest tighten. Yet she knew that Paul would be an invaluable source of intelligence. Emma steeled herself, took a breath, and answered in a low, suggestive voice, "My heart is fonder than you know, Paul."

  ON ONE OF THE BILLBOARD VIZ SCREENS IN THE POTRERO SECTION, U.N. Secretary-General Mendez was seen with his ever-present Visitor handlers among grateful, happy young patients in a beautifully appointed children's hospital. Then he was shown saying directly into the camera, "Visitor medicine is now even curing youngsters with mental disabilities." He went on to describe the wonders of their medicine, but Willy, who was walking beneath the screen with his weak human wife, wasn't paying attention. They were warily skirting past a squad of Patrollers.

  Harmy was cradling her injured arm, and feeling shaky. "I'm gonna need to sit down pretty soon."

  "They may be watching the apartment," Willy cautioned as he looked about for a sanctuary and spotted one. "Over there."

  It was an old movie theater, the sort that played retrospectives of Visitor-approved cinema classics. Willy paid, got the tickets, and helped Harmy in through the door. "You look so pale. What did they do?"

  Tears welled in her eyes. "I told you I don't want to talk about it."

  A TOUGH-AS-NAILS PATROLLER CLUTCHED RUBY'S ARM WITH AN IRON grip as he led her into the Parnassas interrogation room where she had seen Harmy taken. Though the door was very thick, Ruby had heard Harmy cry out several times. The scrappy, courageous girl rubbed off a tear that had escaped down her scaly cheek. She was determined to tough it out. The Patroller secured her to a steel chair in the center of the room. Ruby saw a drain in the floor beneath the chair and dark red stains around it. The Patroller unlocked and opened a nearby cabinet revealing a collection of gleaming, sharp surgical instruments. Some of them had long, needlelike prongs and were peculiarly twisted. Ruby feared to imagine for what purpose they had been designed. She also saw electrodes that could be attached to various parts of someone's anatomy. As she took it all in, Ruby's young heart began to flutter.

  GARY PULLED THE OLD VAN TO A STOP IN A LOADING ZONE ON PREsidio Avenue. Caddy-corner across from it was the Euclid Fire Station that housed Engine Company 34. Ayden remained in the front seat while Nathan hopped out and went to open the back door of the van. Margarita was inside in a remarkably short miniskirt. She was buttoning a sexy, scoop-necked T-shirt that, since she was without a bra, really showed off her freckled chest and shapely breasts. Nathan was impressed. "Bringing out the big guns, are we?"

  Margarita was all business. "Any distraction helps."

  Nathan was trying not to gawk. "Red, you could teach a master class in distraction."

  She hopped out to the street, reaching back in to gather up a large wicker basket filled with something covered by a calico cloth. Nathan couldn't help but take the moment to enjoy the beauty of her long legs and fine figure. Then she turned to him. "Just be ready."

  "I'm getting readier by the second," he dead-panned.

  She smirked at him and headed for the fire station.

  In its office, four young firemen of various ethnic backgrounds looked up from their work as Margarita jiggled in. Their collective thought was decidedly carnal.

  "Hi guys," she said, smiling like Little Mary Sunshine, "I live over on Lake. Just wanted to drop off a little thank-you for you guys always being here for us." She opened the basket revealing baked goods. "Made some oatmeal-raisin, chocolate chippers, and some muffins."

  As the young firemen happily stepped closer to check out her muffins, Margarita pulled from her purse a pair of stun guns.

  IN THE PARNASSAS INTERROGATION ROOM RUBY WAS FIGHTING BACK tears, trying to keep her breathing regular and remain cocky as the Patroller charged up the capacitor on one of the electrode devices. He briefly touched two of them together as a test and was rewarded by the sharp zap of an electric spark. Ruby swallowed nervously. Then the square-shouldered Visitor Patrol captain entered, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Ruby went cheerily on the offensive. "You know, sir, all us dregs look alike. I think that you think I'm someone else, so—"

  "Ruby," his deep bass voice cut her off as he smiled darkly, "we know exactly who you are."

  A fire truck
from Engine Company 34 was speeding south on Stanyan, passing alongside Golden Gate Park, its siren wailing. Nathan was in the driver's seat, grinning broadly like a little kid. "Man, I have always wanted to do this!"

  Margarita and Ayden were in the front beside him. All of them wore San Francisco Fire Department fire-fighting gear. Nathan eyed Margarita's new outfit. "Definitely not as flattering."

  "Listen," Ayden said, his eyes focused straight ahead, "I want to keep the presence of my team as low-key as possible." Margarita nodded agreement as she keyed her radio.

  In an alley across from the Parnassas Station, Blue, Street-C, and Bryke were waiting near her sleek motorbike as Blue's radio crackled with Margarita's voice saying, "We're just passing Hayes. Go for it!"

  Blue and Street-C fired two rocket-propelled grenades that broke through the basement windows of the police station. They heard a pair of small concussive thumps, then they saw puffs of billowy white smoke start to pour out the windows as an alarm began clanging loudly inside the basement.

  Fire alarms had also begun ringing in the squad room above the basement as the white smoke started billowing up into the room. There was sudden confusion, then shouted orders from the duty officer and others to evacuate quickly.

  Police officers, Teammates, Patrollers, perps, and various civilians were spilling out of the front as the fire truck arrived. Nathan, Ayden, and Margarita pulled on smoke masks as they headed inside, pushing through the evacuees and shouting authoritatively, "Out of the building! Everybody out, quickly!"

  The Patrol captain had peered out from the interrogation anteroom into the emptying squad room. He had a sixth sense that something more than just fire might be going on. As he grabbed Ruby's wrist his dark eyes drilled into her and his bass voice rumbled threateningly, "Stay with me or I'll kill you."