V_The 2nd Generation

by Kenneth Johnson

  RESISTANCE WORK HAD ALSO BEEN PROCEEDING SIMULTANEOUSLY on many other fronts. In one of the data storage areas of the Flagship, Jon was deftly stealing data plugs that held schematics of the Flagship and additional details about capsule operation. He slipped them into the trash in his floating custodial cart. Within the hour Jon emerged into Flagship Hangar Bay Thirty-two, where Willy received the stolen material, then boarded an outbound shuttle.

  IN THE RURAL COUNTRYSIDE EAST OF OAKLAND, TED WAS BEING trained by Ayden in the proper operation of an airbike. The youth was not a natural pilot, but he was resolved to learn the techniques necessary to handle the vehicle. Ayden was gaining respect for Ted's sense of purpose.

  WHILE THE RESISTANCE LABORED, MANY TEAMMATES WERE PREPARing themselves for the assault on the Zedti outposts. At the Stein household, Debra was happily packing her gear for deployment while she chattered enthusiastically on the phone to a friend. In the hall, her mother Stella watched, brooding over her daughter and where the world was headed. Then Stella turned to see her son Danny focused intently upon her. His eyes calling for action.

  ON A STREET JUST OUTSIDE THE SCI GHETTO, CHARLES ELGIN SAT down on a bus bench and lay a folded newspaper beside him. After a moment Gary sat down on the same bench, but didn't look at Charles. They continued to ignore each other, both staring straight ahead as Charles spoke quietly, "We made some progress on a neutralizer for the chemical. Tell me what Kayta thinks."

  Charles stood and walked away, leaving his newspaper behind. Gary sat for a moment longer as a Patroller passed by, then he collected the newspaper and walked the other way. He could feel that inside the paper was a tiny vial.

  THAT NIGHT, IN THE LARGE DARK PARKING LOT OF AN INDUSTRIAL area a small tank truck sat among several others, Dr. Robert Maxwell in the cab. He ducked low to hide from a Patrol shuttle that passed by overhead. Then he stuck his head down beneath the dashboard, holding a small flashlight in his teeth. He was amused that among his numerous skills as a Nobel laureate scientist his most important talent at the moment was knowing how to hot-wire an ignition. He got the engine started, then proudly drove the tank truck out into the nighttime streets of San Francisco.

  IN THE OAKLAND FACTORY THAT SAME NIGHT MIKE AND RUBY WERE poring over the stolen Flagship schematics while Willy pointed out the details. Mike was still adjusting to his lack of depth perception with only one eye, but under his leadership they formulated strategy and the tactics that the freed prisoners would have to follow in order to commandeer the Motherships. Ruby was typing the instructions quickly but carefully into a laptop computer.

  Nearby, Kayta was using droplets from the vial Gary had gotten from Charles Elgin and the ghetto scientists to strengthen her neutralizer for the Visitors' chemical weapon. Also within the newspaper Gary had gotten from Charles was a ground plan of Oliver's factory with the two chemical weapon storage tanks highlighted. Robert was assessing the shortest route to them from the front gate of the facility.

  LATER THAT NIGHT, IN THE CONTROL BOOTH OF THE SMALL RECORDing studio in the basement of Emma's condo, her long-haired recording mixer, Westie, was busy. He was patching into the twenty-four-track audio recorder a special computer module that their Visitor spy Lee had stolen from the Flagship Centcom. Then he rolled his chair over to the console and keyed the talk-back switch. "Okay, girl, the auto-translator is good to go. You ready to rock and roll?"

  From behind the double-thick glass Emma gave him a thumbs-up. Her voice came through the big studio speakers over Westie's head, "Ready when you are, C.B."

  Westie tapped a control and the twenty-four-track sprang to life behind him. He keyed a cueing switch. "This is 'Lizards Go Home' take one." He paused a moment, then pointed at Emma.

  She read from Ruby's laptop that was set up on a music stand before her. "This is the voice of the Resistance. You will disregard all previous indoctrination you have received. You will all soon be freed from your storage capsules. Be prepared to fight. We are taking over all the Motherships. I will give you specific assignments to access arms and secure your specific targets. Any Visitors who are friendly to us will wear a small yellow sticker . . ."

  As she continued, Westie checked her audio level as it was reflected by the bouncing light bars on his console. Then he clicked on each of the twenty-four tracks, one at a time. Each track still bore Emma's voice, but digitally modified by the auto-translator into one of two dozen different languages.

  IN THE DARK CELL ABOARD THE FLAGSHIP, THE BOGUS NATHAN blinked awake as he lay against Margarita's shoulder. His voice was still weak. "Wow, have I been out of it very long?"

  Margarita grinned tightly at him. "As long as I've known you."

  "My head really hurts." He put a hand to it and seemed very dizzy.

  "Easy . . . Take it easy . . . Just . . ." Their faces were very close. Their eyes held. Then Margarita leaned in and kissed him. The kiss lasted for a very long moment. When they separated her lips remained very close to his. "That was a lot better than I expected."

  "I liked it, too." The counterfeit Nathan smiled. "Oh, look . . . I managed to steal this . . ." He pulled a peculiarly shaped tool from his sock. "Maybe it'll help us escape."

  "You are definitely my hero." She smiled warmly and kissed him again.

  When their lips parted he looked at her lovingly for a moment, then said, "But listen, we might get separated once we get out of here."

  "I'd say that's a distinct possibility," she acknowledged.

  "If we do, where should I go? Who should I contact?"

  "There's an old factory in Oakland. At the corner of Park and Piedmont, where everyone—" She cut herself off and glanced around, whispering, "I better tell you the rest outside, this cell might be bugged."

  "Right, right." He nodded.

  "Let me see that tool."

  He handed it to her. She stood up to examine a small panel near the top of the hatch to see if the tool might be of use.

  In the Flagship conference room a visualizer displayed an image of Margarita and the bogus Nathan in the cell. Jeremy smiled and glanced over at Shawn who was already getting to his feet. "Park and Piedmont. I'll alert the Wing Commander and get them on the way, sir."

  MARY ELGIN SAT IN THE BEDROOM OF THEIR CHEAP TENEMENT. SHE had finally summoned the courage to open the small book that her father-in-law had brought to her. As she turned the pages slowly she could hear her daughter Charlotte's voice as she read some of the words that the gentle girl had written most recently.

  "How I love this little book. Every blank page is like a new day: so many possibilities . . . I worry about Mom and Dad . . . I wish they'd know I'll always be with them no matter what . . ." Mary turned another page and drew a sharp breath as she read, "I felt that flutter thing in my heart again. It's so scary."

  Charlotte had never mentioned anything about the symptom. Mary continued reading her daughter's words.

  "There must be some little valve or something really messed up inside there and I know we've got no way to fix it . . ."

  Mary rested her hand on the page for a moment as though she were touching her departed daughter's cheek. She thought back over all the wonderful Charlottes she had known: the newborn with her startling profusion of dark hair; the infant at her breast; Charlotte's first real smile that morning in her bath; how the one-year-old would stand holding on to a chair and dance to the ragtime music that Pop Elgin played on his guitar. Then the delicious three-year-old and the thoughtful seven-year-old who loved books and seemed to have such an old soul. Finally Mary pictured the sweet, selfless teenager who had written the words in the diary. Mary turned another page.

  "Some people always think a glass is half empty. But the saddest part is when they don't appreciate what life they do have—while they live it every, every minute . . . In my heart I believe that somehow, someday everything will be right again . . . That Momma won't be sad anymore . . . That Daddy won't be so burdened . . . That Poppy will get stronger . . . I felt the sun on my face thi
s morning. It was warm and peaceful. I was happy . . ."

  Mary saw that there was no more writing. She slowly turned the blank, white pages one after another, aching for all of Charlotte's days that would go unlived. But then she looked again at the last words her indomitable daughter had written.

  GARY WAS IN THE APARTMENT HE SHARED WITH THE VISITOR DOCTOR who had just arrived home from the Flagship for the evening. Eric looked at Gary curiously as the handsome young man gave him a yellow sticker and put his finger to Eric's lips. "Shhh. Don't ask . . . Don't tell."

  MARK WAS AGAIN WORKING LATE IN HIS MAYORAL OFFICE AT CITY Hall. He looked up as Emma let herself in. He reacted coldly to her presence, but she held up her hand. "Just hear me out. I know you're angry because I was unfaithful. But the Zedti fleet is on the way and everyone—but everyone—is going to die if I don't get your help."

  RUBY WAS THE FIRST TO HEAR THE APPROACHING RUMBLE. SHE RAN to look out one of the broken windows of the Oakland factory that had become their new headquarters. Her blue eyes went wide. "Holy shit! Kill the lights!"

  The others responded immediately to her warning as Mike limped quickly toward her to see the trouble. "What is it?"

  The little half-breed nodded urgently. "Looks like half their damn air force is coming right at us!"

  Robert looked out and saw that the fighters were nearly on top of them. He went pale. "We'll never get clear in time!"

  Mike shouted to Kayta who was in the midst of filling the tank truck with the neutralizer she and Charles's scientists had created, "Close it up, Kayta! We've got to save that truck!"

  "Wait, Mike!" Ruby called out, "Look."

  Donovan peered back out the window and saw that the fighters were directly overhead, but not stopping. They kept on going, moving several blocks to the north. "What the hell . . . ?"

  "They're circling over Park and"—Robert squinted his dark eyes as he calculated—"looks like Piedmont. What's up there?"

  Ruby pictured the place in her mind. "Just a bunch of sleazy used car lots." She traded a quizzical glance with Robert and Mike, who shrugged gratefully.

  "We must have a guardian angel." Then Mike looked back at Kayta. "Finish it up quick, it's time to get this show on the road."

  30

  FLAGSHIP HANGAR BAY SEVEN WAS BUSY AS USUAL WITH SHUTTLES and fighters heading out on patrol or returning. A cargo shuttle glided in through the huge hangar door that was open to the sky. The fifty-foot craft eased upward through the hangar's open atrium and came to a landing on one of the balcony platforms eleven levels above the main flight deck. A number of Patrollers disembarked. Among them were several civilian Players including Mayor Mark Ohanian and Emma, wearing a killer dress.

  They passed by the rear cargo hatch of the shuttle where some supplies were being off-loaded. Willy waited just within the hatch near a large biohazard container. When the coast was momentarily clear, he quickly broke the seal and opened it. Kayta and Mike had been crammed inside it, both wearing Patroller uniforms. Ruby was also with them, dressed in her usual ragtag, Artful Dodger clothes. Mike slipped handcuffs onto her scaly wrists, leaving them loose enough for her to slip out of in the event of an emergency. Then he and Kayta escorted their young "prisoner" toward a transport tube.

  In one of the Flagship's upper passages a Visitor guard on duty saluted as the San Francisco mayor approached and opened the hatch to a small conference room. Emma slithered past the guard with a coy smile. The guard admired her cleavage and drank in the rosy fragrance of her perfume. Mark leaned confidentially close to the Visitor, handing him a mayoral business card, saying, "I could use someone like you down at City Hall. Come see me." Then he leaned closer and his voice became more hushed and confidential, "And listen, this place really turns her on . . . so I need a little 'alone time' with her, you understand?"

  The guard glanced in at the sexy, cocoa-skinned beauty whose fingertips were sensuously grazing the shiny surface of the conference table. Then the guard gave Mark a knowing smile. "Yes, Mr. Mayor, you won't be disturbed."

  "I knew I could count on you." Mark gave the guard's arm a comradely squeeze, then went in and closed the hatch. As he locked it from within Emma unlocked a rear entrance to admit Kayta, Ruby, and Mike. Still on weak legs, Mike pulled a corner table to a position beneath an electrical access panel on the ceiling and then climbed shakily onto the table. Ruby slipped loose from her handcuffs and handed Mike a small tool to loosen the panel.

  Down the passageway outside and around the corner from the conference room Willy was standing lookout, worried for everyone. Including himself.

  In one of the low, dark, steamy corridors of the Flagship's bowels, the hatch on Margarita's cell creaked open just enough for her to slip out, followed by the counterfeit Nathan. They quickly scoped out their surroundings and the Nathan look-alike pointed a direction. "There's a service shaft down there."

  "Always looking to shaft me, huh?" Margarita grinned tightly.

  "Hurry . . . and stay close." Then he reacted to a sound behind them, whispering, "Wait!" They ducked into a dark alcove.

  A reptilian guard appeared. The imitation Nathan clubbed him down, handed his pistol to Margarita, then dumped the guard into the cell, careful not to let Margarita see his secret, conspiratorial eye contact with the guard. Then he rejoined Margarita and whispered, "We're in the clear! Go!" She headed down the dim walkway and he smiled to himself at his successful subterfuge. A respected member of Diana's elite guard, he was pleased that she had entrusted him with this assignment: to work alone, gain Margarita's confidence and infiltrate the Resistance. He quickly followed her into the humid darkness.

  ROBERT WAS DRIVING THE SMALL TANK TRUCK HE HAD HOT-WIRED and stolen the previous night. Gary sat in the passenger seat as they pulled to a stop at the main gate of J. D. Oliver's chemical plant. The gate guard checked their invoice, didn't recognize that it was a forgery, and waved them on in. Once inside, Gary picked up a small two-way radio as he surveyed the conditions on the factory's grounds.

  Just outside the south perimeter of the facility Ayden and Ted were sequestered in the abandoned junkyard, waiting beside their airbikes. They heard Gary's voice over their radios, "We're in with the neutralizer. But I can see two—no, make that three—tanker craft already loading up the chemical weapon from the first storage tank."

  AFTER A BIT OF A STRUGGLE, MIKE HAD LOOSENED THE CEILING ACcess panel in the conference room on the Flagship. He pushed a tiny fiber-optic camera up through it. Emma and Mark looked at a small vid receiver showing the image from the camera. It showed Shawn's chamber on the level above them, his feet large in the foreground. Mark took his cue and dialed the communicator on the conference table. Shawn's voice came through it, "This is Shawn."

  "Hi, it's Mark Ohanian. Listen, I'm inbound. Could you meet me down in Hangar Bay Thirty-seven?"

  They heard Shawn say, "Of course, Mr. Mayor." Then they watched their vid receiver and saw Shawn's feet leave the room above. He locked the hatch.

  "Let me go first," Ruby said, "then I can help Kayta."

  Mike nodded agreement and boosted the girl up to the access panel. He helped her through the ceiling and into Shawn's chamber. Emma and Mark helped steady Kayta on the table, then Mike gave her a leg up to the panel, asking, "You really think you can squeeze through there?"

  "I'll manage." The blond Zedti smiled with determination. It was a very tight fit but with Ruby's help from above and Mike's below Kayta ascended.

  The opening was too small for Mike's broad shoulders but he stuck his head up through. He could see the security unit as Kayta and Ruby approached it. It was not at all the way Mike expected a safe or a vault to look. It was merely a two-foot cube of light atop a square pedestal. Its contents, including the vital code keys, could clearly be seen within a pair of protective rotating rings that seemed to defy gravity.

  "Whoa. Not your average safecracking job," Mike said with concern.

  Kayta agreed, "No human device could open it."


  "But a Zedti can, huh, Kayta?" Ruby was ever-optimistic.

  Kayta glanced at the girl. "Hopefully, Ruby." The violet-eyed Zedti took out a complicated-looking, handheld unit and began calibrating. Ruby watched, then glanced back at the keys within the rotating rings, murmuring to herself, "We're coming, Mom."

  In the conference room below, Emma and Mark looked at each other, knowing that discovery and death might be only moments away. She took his hand. "Thank you for doing this." She kissed his hand and pressed it to her cheek. He stared at her, not unmoved, but hoping to God that he had made the right decision.

  IN THE CHEMICAL FACTORY STELLA STEIN WAS GAZING DOWN FROM A catwalk toward the acid tank where Blue had given the last full measure of his devotion to the Resistance. It was a place she could never just walk past any longer without pausing for a moment's contemplation. As she turned away she noticed a small tank truck backing toward the large storage tank by the security section. She knew the tank was one of two that contained the Visitors' new chemical weapon. What had specifically caught her eye was that Charles Elgin was guiding the truck driver. Stella knew that such work was out of keeping with Charles's job description. She realized that something untoward was going on. She looked around and saw a Visitor guard approaching. Stella called out loudly to him, "Hey, Nick. Come over here a second."

  Charles heard her shout just as he signaled Robert to stop the truck. He pushed his glasses up onto his nose and looked more carefully. Seeing that it was Stella up on the catwalk he drew a sharp breath. "Oh, shit. I think we're in trouble." Then he saw Stella distract the guard, turning the Patroller away from the covert activity below. Charles was totally amazed. "I can't believe she did that on purpose."