V06 - Prisoners and Pawns

by Howard Weinstein

  With a fractional nod to her troopers, Lydia undid the front of her uniform. The others followed her lead. Soon the red coveralls were in a neat pile, helmets and boots in rows—and Lydia and her ten surviving soldiers stood in the sun without a stitch of clothing on. Except for the gash in Lydia's neck, their human bodies were perfect specimens— firm and supple like retouched magazine photos. Utterly inhuman.

  The Visitor gear was stowed in the skyfighter, and Julie ordered the resistance fighters in too. Maggie engaged the engines and the craft lifted off in a cloud of dust.

  Ham sat in the rear gunner's nest alone, staring out the back port. No one tried to talk to him.

  They landed in the center of Crow's Fork amid the burned-out hulks of two Visitor fighters and a land rover. There were no people to be seen anywhere. As she surveyed the ruins of alien vehicles and the smoking shell of O'Toole's house, Julie let out a low whistle.

  "Good God, what happened here?"

  Ham Tyler was next to her as they walked away from their aircraft. "If we can find Donovan and Chris, we'll find out."

  "Where is everyone?"

  "Maybe they're all dead. Lydia could've executed a whole town without losing too much sleep," Ham said.

  Julie swallowed, hoping that wasn't true. "Maybe they just got scared when they saw us landing. For all they knew, Lydia was coming back. Damn—we've got to find somebody to talk to. Hey, let's try that general store."

  Leaving Elias in charge of the ship, they crossed the street to the two-story wooden structure. As they approached, they heard a creaking sound from the deep

  shadows of the front porch. Julie and Ham froze, weapons aimed.

  "You're the ones in Visitor uniforms," called a familiar voice, "and you've got the nerve to draw on us!"

  "Donovan!" Julie shouted.

  He stepped down to the street, Chris and Frank O'Toole emerging behind him. Julie broke into a run and she and Donovan collided in a bear hug.

  "What took you so long?" Chris said.

  "We came as fast as we could. We came to save you." Then she giggled. "Jeez, I sound like Luke Sky walker"

  "We saved ourselves," Donovan said.

  "Oh, okay then." Julie disengaged from the embrace. "So long, guys," she said casually.

  "Not so fast," Donovan said, quickly putting his arm around her waist.

  "Hey," said an angry voice from the general-store doorway, "you didn't exactly save yourselves. You had a little help, huh?" It was Bradley, followed by Hank and Jacqueline. Bradley strutted proudly onto the street, a laser rifle at his side.

  "Who are they?" Julie asked.

  "Local militia," Donovan said. "Hey, Ham, where's Annie?"

  Tyler's face reflected little, only grim tension. He met Donovan's probing gaze. "She's dead."

  Donovan reacted, his eyes closing for a moment. "Damn," he said softly.

  Julie seemed confused. "Who's Annie?" she asked, looking first to Tyler. Realizing she'd get no answer there, she searched Donovan's expression for a clue.

  Donovan in turn looked to Ham for some sort of signal. What should / say? The lack of response from Tyler was signal enough.

  "Who was she?" Julie repeated, very gently now.

  "A friend," Donovan said. He locked his eyes on to Tyler's, trying to fathom this mysterious man who'd been both enemy and friend. Nam, let us in, Donovan thought. Then, for just a second, he caught a flicker of the private pain that Ham didn't dare share. The moment was fleeting, then gone, and Donovan wondered if it had been there at all.

  Gray, impassive, the mask of Ham's face looked back at him. Donovan turned away first, toward Julie. "Let's get out of here," he announced.

  "There's something I have to do first," Tyler said. "I, uh, I had to leave Annie out there in the woods. I want to bring her back."

  "I'll help," O'Toole said.

  But Ham shook his head. "I'd rather go by myself. Will you take care of everything after I leave her here?"

  O'Toole nodded. "Of course, Tyler."

  "I'll be back in a little while—it's not far." Tyler strode quickly to the skyfighter, climbed in, and lifted off.

  The other resistance members and townspeople watched the Visitor craft fly toward the foothills.

  "Uh, we have some prisoners here in town," O'Toole said after another moment of uncomfortable silence. "You're going to take them, aren't you?"

  Julie frowned. "We can't."

  "What do you mean, you can't?"

  "Not permanently anyway," Donovan cut in. "We're just an underground group. We don't have any provisions for holding prisoners. It's not like we've got prisoner-of-war camps."

  "Not in Nathan Bates-land," Julie added. "We're officially outlawed in the L.A. area, and it's too dangerous to transport prisoners to any facilities that might exist in areas under human control. So we just have to take their uniforms and weapons and spring 'em."

  "Don't worry," Donovan said. "We'll transport the ones you've got on ice far enough from here that they won't crawl back and give you any grief."

  "Which reminds me," Julie said, "we got quite a haul from Lydia's troops. There are a bunch of naked Visitors wandering somewhere in the foothills."

  Donovan stared at her. "Huh?"

  "You heard me."

  "Now, that's something I'd like to see."

  She smacked him playfully across the cheek. "Pervert. We also have two new recruits—Barry and Zachary have had their covers blown and can't go back to their Mother Ship. On balance, I'd say we gained a lot."

  "Which reminds me," Donovan said suddenly, "what happened with the weapons shipment your group was gonna pick up?"

  Julie rolled her eyes. "Hell—you had to ask? Bates intercepted the ship."

  "You mean your cover is blown too?"

  She shook her head. "No—thanks to Elizabeth. I don't know how that kid does it, but she sensed I'd be in grave danger if I boarded the ship, so I sent Kyle and Elias—and Bates was there to meet them."

  "Damn him!" Donovan spat. "Did everybody get away okay?"

  "Yeah. I can't figure Bates out, I really can't. He could have held them or used them to get to us, but he just let them go."

  "The man's a real humanitarian," Donovan said sourly.

  "Anybody need a cool drink?" Chris asked, turning toward the general store.

  Donovan and Julie looked at each other. "Sure," they said in unison, then followed Chris inside.

  It wasn't long before Tyler returned to town with Annie Halsey's body wrapped protectively in a blanket. O'Toole helped him carry her to the clinic, while Julie and Donovan gathered the rest of their rescue team at the skyfighter. They waited while Ham and the big Irishman conferred privately.

  "Did she have any family?" Ham asked.

  "No," O'Toole said. "There's a little stone church, an old Spanish structure, outside of town. She liked to go there."

  Tyler managed an ironic smile. "I didn't know she was religious."

  "Oh, she wasn't. She made a point not to go on Sundays. She'd go when there was no one else there. She believed in direct chats with the Almighty."

  "That I can believe. Annie is—was—a very direct lady." "And she liked to sit in the churchyard and look at the old gravestones, kind of commune with the spirits. I'll bury her there."

  Tyler nodded. "That's good. I think she'd like that."

  O'Toole gestured at the skyfighter, and he and Tyler walked toward it.

  Julie and Donovan stood near the alien aircraft after everyone else had clambered aboard.

  "You said we gained a lot," Donovan said, watching Ham and O'Toole. "Some of us also lost." Then he noticed Julie's face cocked to one side like a quizzical spaniel. He smiled at her, sadness in his eyes.

  "Maybe one of these days I'll know what went on up here," she said.

  "Don't count on it," Donovan replied.

  With his teen militia in tow, O'Toole escorted Tyler to the skyfighter, then shook hands with Donovan and Julie.

  "If you eve
r need us again ..." O'Toole said.

  "We'll try not to," Donovan said.

  "Good-bye, Mr. O'Toole," Julie said, waving. "Good luck."

  "Same to you—all of you."

  Julie disappeared inside the overcrowded ship while O'Toole and the kids backed away. Tyler stood with one foot poised on the hatch sill. Donovan reached down to extend a hand. "You sure you don't want to stay?"

  "Nope. Nothing to stay for."

  Donovan moved out of the hatchway as Ham came up. "You okay, Ham?"

  "This is a wai; Gooder. People die. No big deal." Then he ducked inside.

  Donovan took one last look at the dusty town, wishing Ham could get past that peculiar code of honor he lived by. Maybe he would the next time something like this happened. I hope there never is a next time, Donovan thought.

  He shut the hatch and nodded to Maggie, who throttled the engines to maximum power. The skyfighter left Crow's Fork behind, lumbering as it gained altitude, and banked gently toward the south . . . toward home.