V06 - Prisoners and Pawns

by Howard Weinstein

  He inserted the cassette into his terminal, then slid a blank one into a second slot. He touched the keyboard and watched as a copy was made within seconds. Then he reached for the intercom.

  Zachary was trying unsuccessfully to rest when his own intercom chimed. "This is Zachary."

  "This is Barry. Report to my quarters, please."

  Zachary rolled off his bunk and slipped his boots on. "On my way, Captain."

  The young officer hurried out and strode down the corridor. When Barry's door slid open to let him enter; he found the older officer playing a triangular stringed instrument. Zach sat down.

  "I didn't know you play the ta'iyta."

  Barry laughed. "Lately, I'd forgotten myself. I brought this little one with me hoping I'd keep in practice, but I can't recall the last time I had a chance to take it out."

  "It sounds nice, sir."

  "Thank you. You know, it took me years to master the fourteen-string version. I'd learned the seven-string when I was young, but like most children, I hated to practice. My father said it would teach me discipline."

  "That's probably what made you hate it," Zachary joked.

  "You're probably right. At home, I have four antique ta'iytas. They're handmade—worth thousands if I ever wanted to sell them."

  "Do you?"

  Barry shook his head. "No, I want to go home and play them." He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "I want to play music, I want to strip off this human casing, I want to sleep late and write poetry in the evening on my veranda, I want to swim in the Lantan Hot Springs and lie out on a rock, just warming in the sun." He paused, took a mournful breath, then opened his eyes. "I don't want to light this battle anymore."

  Zach was quiet for a moment. "Is that the report?" he nsked gently, pointing to the cassettes—three of them—on Harry's desk.

  "Yes."

  "When do you want me to take it to the resistance?"

  "I'm going to go myself."

  "But you can't leave the ship without Lydia thinking—"

  Barry raised his hand. "I've figured out a way to do it without making her suspicious."

  "Can't I go with you?"

  "No, I want you here." Barry handed Zachary one of the cassettes. "Take this. Hide it. Don't look at it, don't mention it to anyone. You will have one of the three copies of this damned report. I'm taking one with me to give to Donovan, and I'm giving one to Lydia. If anything happens to me and I don't get this copy to the resistance, you'll be the only one standing in the way of Lydia's succeeding with her crazy plan for invasion. I'll leave it to you to figure out a way to get it to Donovan and the others. But you have to be patient—don't jump into things at the first sign of trouble. You'll have to use good judgment and confirm that I failed in my mission. Understood?"

  Zachary nodded. "Yes, Captain."

  Zachary left and Barry took the report to Lydia's quarters. I ler satisfaction was obvious as she held the cassette like a treasure. "I'm sure your work is as thorough as usual, Captain."

  "There's something I wanted to add to the report, but it would've taken more time than I had."

  "Was it important?"

  "I think so, Lydia. But I'd have to leave the ship and do some inspections of certain sites on Earth."

  "How long do you think it would take?" she asked.

  "Oh, a few hours, maybe half a day at most. With your permission, I'll leave right away. That way, you can review what I've given you, and then you'll be ready to see the addendum later on."

  The security commander nodded. "That makes sense, Barry. All right, get to it. I'll be waiting for your extra information."

  "Thank you, Commander." He saluted and backed out of her cabin.

  When the door had closed, James came around the partition separating the office area from Lydia's sleeping cubicle. He wore only a robe. "Well?"

  Lydia answered with a sly smile. "I think everything is going according to plan. It appears that Barry is being very cooperative in delivering our invasion strategy to Donovan and the resistance. I would say our lure is doing its job."

  "And with our dual trap, it's very unlikely that Donovan will get away this time," James said, coming to Lydia and massaging her neck. "Are you going to destroy that report cassette?"

  "No, I think I'll take a look at it. Before he became a fifth-column traitoi; Barry was quite good at strategic planning. He's so concerned about keeping up his cover; he's probably done an excellent research job. Maybe we might yet get to use this invasion idea—when I'm supreme commander."

  He leaned over to kiss her Their tongues snaked together until she pulled away. "Did you make sure Barry's skyfighter has a homing beam?"

  "I assigned someone to—"

  She spun on him angrily. "When I give you an order; you don't delegate it. You see to it yourself. Now get dressed and get down to the hangar deck. Hurry up—he'll be leaving any minute."

  He ducked his face to avoid Lydia's glare. "Yes, Lydia. Right away."

  James watched from the control room high above the hangar deck as Barry climbed up into the cabin of one of the small skyfighters. A young technician trotted up as the hatch was about to close and Barry leaned down to talk to him.

  James looked down at his tracking console, tapped the keyboard to enter the identification number of that particular vessel, and nodded to himself when the readout screen flashed to indicate the homing signal was strong and clear

  "What is it?" Barry asked in a low voice.

  Zachary handed the older officer a pocket-sized keypad. "I hooked this up to the ship's homing system. I don't trust Lydia, and I thought you might not want them to track you. Once you're about a mile from the Mother Ship, punch the buttons on this and it'll override the tracking signal. You'll be out of visual range by then, and they'll lose you for sure."

  "Thanks, Zachary," Barry said. "I don't have any reason to think Lydia suspects anything, but you're right—better to have some insurance."

  Zachary patted him on the shoulder and Barry disappeared into the small spacecraft. With a mechanical whirr, the ladder retracted and the hatch closed. As he stepped back, Zach watched the skyfighter lift off the deck and edge toward the giant hangar bay opening. When the force-field signal showed clear, the vehicle accelerated through and banked away from the Mother Ship, heading toward the planet's surface a mile below.

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 8

  "You lost the signal?" Lydia whispered, voice chilled with incredulous fury. She rose to her feet and stood face to face inches away from James. "How could you lose the signal?"

  "I—I don't know, Lydia. I personally checked it before he left the hangar deck."

  "And was it working?"

  He looked annoyed at her condescension. "Of course it was working."

  "Well, it isn't now. If this is the kind of performance 1 get from my handpicked aides—"

  "Lydia," he implored, "it wasn't my fault. How could it be my fault if he somehow figured out that you were using him?"

  She glared at him dangerously. "Watch your step, James. Aides and lovers are not irreplaceable when they cross the line of insubordination. He could not have figured out that I was using him. It could just have been a precaution on his part. He may not yet know for certain that we're onto his little fifth-column scheme. In which case, our mission will still succeed, thanks to my planning a backup method of trapping Donovan. Let this be a lesson to you. If you're lucky, you'll survive long enough to make use of it someday. If you'd planned with necessary redundancies in mind, we wouldn't have had this little chat, and your career

  would not be in immediate danger"

  Julie turned into the marina and drove her panel truck into the waiting, open garage. Elias followed in the second truck. They climbed out and surveyed the rendezvous setting.

  "I thought this was supposed to be a
decent-sized cargo ship we were meeting," Elias said, hands on hips as he squinted into the late morning sunshine. "This marina ain't big enough to handle a boat carrying more than a couple of forty-four Magnums."

  "The cargo ship's docking offshore," Julie explained. "We'll move the stuff in with launches. Some of us are going to have to go out in the motorboats."

  "I'll do that," Kyle volunteered. "I've been around water and've handled boats since I was a little kid."

  "How about you, Elias?" Julie asked.

  "I'd rather have my water in a glass with some Scotch, but I'll go out with the kid."

  "Good. I guess I'll take one out with a couple of the others," Julie said, glancing back at the half dozen resistance members waiting in the welcome shade provided by the garage.

  Elizabeth tugged at Julie's arm.

  "What is it, honey?" Julie asked.

  "I—I need to talk to you," Elizabeth said softly.

  "Okay. We've got time while we're waiting. What's up?"

  "I mean alone."

  Julie nodded. "Oh. Okay. Hey, guys, keep a lookout. Let me know when our ship comes in," she said with an impish smile. Elias chuckled at the intended joke as Kyle continued to watch the horizon.

  "Julie, don't go out to the ship when it gets here," Elizabeth said firmly.

  "What? Why not?"

  The younger woman's shoulders sagged. "I—I don't know. I mean, I know, but I can't explain it. I just feel like you're going to be in terrible danger if you go. Like you're going to get hurt, or killed."

  Julie could tell that Elizabeth was on the verge of tears. It had cost the girl a great deal to break through her shell of shyness to tell Julie of her secret fears and visions. "Tell me what you saw, Elizabeth."

  "I'm afraid. I don't want to see it again," she whispered. "But I had to tell you about it."

  Julie gave her a hug. "Well, I'm glad you did."

  Elizabeth brightened. "Does that mean you won't go?"

  "I may have to, honey. I am in charge, you know," Julie said lightly. But the stab at humor didn't work. Elizabeth's face clouded over again.

  "That doesn't matter. You're the one who could get hurt."

  "But if it's dangerous for me out there, won't it also be dangerous for someone who goes in my place?"

  "I don't know—I only saw it for you."

  "When you see these things, what's it like? Do you see actual images or scenes of what's going to happen?"

  The girl's brow furrowed. "No, it's more like a feeling— like when someone's standing behind you. You don't actually see them but you know they're there. Has that ever happened to you?"

  Julie nodded. "Mm-hmm. But I think when you see something, it's a lot more definite than a premonition."

  "Then you believe me?"

  "Of course I believe you."

  "Then you won't go." It was a statement, not a question.

  "I didn't say that. I'll think about what you told me. And if you see anything else, tell me, okay? Maybe I won't go."

  Elizabeth rested her head on Julie's shoulder. "I don't want anything to happen to you, that's all."

  Julie stroked the girl's blond hair. "I know. I wouldn't want anything to happen to either of us. It'll be okay. Don't worry."

  A bit of a breeze had kicked up, ruffling the fronds of the palm trees lining the shore. Julie walked Elizabeth over to the stone seawall so they could have some quiet time without the others around. The cargo ship wasn't due for at least an hour.

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and basked in the warm

  sunlight, sitting on the wall with her legs dangling. Julie sat next to her and watched her. She wished she could know what Elizabeth had seen, what went on inside that uncharted mind. Physically, Elizabeth seemed to have stabilized at the equivalent of eighteen human years, but from casual observation, Julie saw that each day of Elizabeth's life, her mind powers were continuing to develop at an irregular but ever-growing rate. If she'd actually had time to learn, some of the things the star child might have been able to do would have been remarkable. But in her topsy-turvy eighteen months of life, she'd barely had time to survive, much less be a student. That made her innate abilities nothing short of miraculous. Simply by touch, she could both draw data directly from computer banks and control them, as she'd clone with the power reactors on the Mother Ships. She'd also demonstrated knowledge of ancient Visitor healing arts, again through touch, knowledge that dated back thousands of years, according to Willie. And only lately she'd begun to foresee future events. Her visions were blurred, skewed, light glimpsed through a prism. Julie could look at the girl's face and almost see her turning the prism over and over in her mind, trying to unbend the splintering light and make it come together in a reflection that made sense.

  Julie wished she could help, for Elizabeth's peace of mind and for that of all of them. As the genetically engineered offspring of human and Visitor parents, no one knew what Elizabeth was becoming, what directions her powers would take. Not only was she a child in a young woman's body, she was also a wholly new and unpredictable life form.

  And although Julie prayed against it, she knew that unpredictability in a world where Visitor armies stalked could spawn danger.

  In the time since Donovan, Tyler, Chris, and Maragato had left the urban sprawl of Los Angeles behind, the sun had crept up from the horizon to its midday peak. The early part of the trip had been through the green hills of the mountain parks north of the city, but then they'd traversed the dry-dirt desert that makes up the spine of the state. The drone of the Blazer's tires combined with the heat and monotonous scenery to occasionally make Donovan drowsy. There hadn't even been a stray Visitor patrol to break the monotony. Not a lot of chitchat either with this crew, Donovan thought. Ham seemed even more caustic than usual, for reasons Donovan didn't want to begin to fathom.

  About forty miles into the desert, Chris had made a stab at lightening the mood with a round of raunchy jokes, but Ham had been obviously uninterested and Maragato had been politely Oriental, while Donovan found it impossible to truly get into the spirit as a one-man audience. A shame since some of the jokes weren't half bad. He'd have to remember some of them and retell them to Julie—if they ever got back on speaking terms.

  Donovan rubbed his eyes beneath his sunglasses and wiped an annoying bead of grimy sweat off his forehead. "I think I see a gas station up ahead," he said to no one in particular

  "Yep," Chris replied.

  "Don't drive too fast, Donovan," Ham said. "That gas station means we're entering greater downtown Crow's Fork."

  Donovan glanced around at the horizon. The sandy foothills had indeed become forest-covered mountains, but the change had been so gradual that he hadn't taken notice as Crow's Fork began to materialize up ahead.

  The four-wheel drive slowed as Donovan lifted his foot off the gas pedal. The town was a dusty collection of one-and two-story buildings, looking like a western movie set, circa turn of the century. It had a partially paved main street, with dirt and gravel side roads branching off into the tinder-dry woods beyond. The few sidewalks were raised, some made of board, others of rough concrete.

  "You're kidding about this, right?" Donovan said. "This looks like a ghost town. I expect to see Wyatt Earp at the O-K Corral."

  "He moved out a few weeks ago," Ham said. "Not enough nightlife for the old guy." "Where do we find your trail guides, Tyler?"

  Ham pointed through the windshield. "Try heading over to the sign that says 'Trail Guides,'" he said dryly.

  The sign really did read 'Trail Guides,' with the name O'Toole in front, and it hung over the doorway of a rough-hewn little house with a dormered roof and a raised wooden porch out front. Donovan stopped in a puff of dust, which hung in the still air and made his eyes itch as he swung open the truck door

  "Is O'Toole the guy you know?" he asked.

  "I met him once when I came up here for a little recreation about two years ago. But Halsey's the name of the one I worked with in El Salvador.
Damn good guide," Tyler said as he got out and moved the seat forward, letting Chris and Maragato squeeze out of the Blazer's rear compartment. Tyler led the way up the steps of O'Toole's place, knocked on the doot; and pushed it open. A woman in her early thirties, her dirty blond hair in a bun, sat reading a magazine at a desk.

  "Hey, Halsey," Ham barked.

  The woman looked up reflexively, ready with a comeback before she was sure who'd spoken. She swallowed the words before she could say them and her blue eyes widened in disbelief.

  "Whatsamattei; forget your name?" Ham prodded.

  "Ham Tylei; you stinking son of a bitch," she snarled.

  "Knows him well, huh?" Donovan said to Chris.

  The big man shrugged. "Better'n you could ever guess, Donovan."

  The woman's feral expression dissolved into a face-splitting grin, and she leaned across the desk. "Well, I'll be a son of a gun. What the friggin' hell are you doin' in Crow's Fork?"

  "Came to see you," Ham said, standing in an unconcerned, arms-folded pose.

  "The hell you did."

  "Halsey, did your mother teach you to swear like that?"

  She thought for a second. "First she taught my daddy, then she taught me." Slowly, as if thinking whether it was worth it, she pushed her chair back and then ambled over to Ham Tyler. As she did so, she revealed her slim, wiry figure, clad in loose-fitting jeans and a denim shirt. Her face had a sharp-featured, weathered beauty etched into it. For a minute, Donovan wasn't sure if she was going to punch Tyler or hug him. They hugged. Then she pushed him back, her hands resting on his shoulders.

  "Lemrae look at you," she said. And she did—for an instant. "On second thought ..."

  "Very funny, Halsey, very funny. Good thing for you my ego doesn't bruise easily."

  "Didn't know it bruised at all. Now, really, what the hell are you doin' all the way up here?"

  "We need your help. 1 knew you couldn't turn me down—not after I saved your life in El Salvador"

  "Hold on," she said ominously. "/ saved your life."