by Tim Sullivan
V:
THE FLORIDA PROJECT
A thick fog hung over the swamp. Vague shapes rose out of the mist as the canoe moved toward them. Billy Tigei; plying his oar through the still water, recognized them for what they were: cycads, cypress trees, banyans, palmetto clumps. After all, he had grown up in the Everglades, even if he had been away a couple of years.
The morning silence was belied by a sinuous ripple just under the water's surface.
Billy let the canoe glide to a stop near a banyan tree. He dropped his fishing line over the side and leaned back, pushing his Stetson over his eyes. The sun was just coming up, and it was very peaceful. He welcomed the opportunity to just drift and let his mind wander for a change, without thinking about his girlfriend Marie or his older brother John bugging him about one thing or another. John in particular harped on Billy's leaving college after only two years. Everybody on the Seminole reservation had expected great things from him, and John had sacrificed a lot to get Billy into school after their parents died. But things just hadn't worked out at the university, and ever since he'd come home, Marie had been talking about getting married. With only half a college education and not a penny to his name, Billy didn't consider himself the best prospect in the world. But he did love Marie, and she continually assured him that was all that really mattered.
"Hey," he said to himself, his voice reverberating through the swamp, "I thought you were gonna go fishing, not soul searching."
He heard a flamingo's screech in the distance. Scared by a 'gator? He heard splashing too, but it sounded as if the big reptiles were taking to water to hide, not to hunt.
Billy felt a tug on his fishing line.
"All right," he said, allowing the fish to swim out a little, playing him, waiting for the right moment to haul him in. For a few seconds Billy thought he'd lost him. He didn't feel the fish moving at all, but he sat tight, knowing that they sometimes doubled back under the boat. Billy peered into the murky water, smelling the rich, decaying odor of the swamp.
Suddenly the line jerked spasmodically. The fish was fighting for all he was worth. Twenty yards from the canoe, there was a splash and the gleam of a silver back. Billy began to reel him in.
Just as he pulled the struggling fish out of the watei; he heard a low hum. A boat? He didn't have time to think about it as he dropped the flopping fish in the canoe.
Billy was momentarily blinded by a flash of blue. When he could see again, the water next to his canoe was boiling. Another blue flash and then another sizzled the water around him. An energy bolt struck a banyan tree, blasting off a limb in a shower of sparks and a billow of smoke. The limb splashed into the water, rocking the canoe in its wake.
A shadow passed over him. Billy looked up and saw silver disks gliding around a cypress tree with men clad in red uniforms riding them. They all wore sunglasses and—their faces were green.
No, not men. Visitors.
It couldn't be. The Visitors had been driven away. There was a toxin in Earth's ecosystem that should have killed them all. Hut the acrid smell of smoke told him what he saw was so.
A blue laser beam whooshed by his head, convincing Billy that whatever he may have heard, these were definitely Visitors attacking him.
He reached for the shotgun hidden under his backpack on the canoe seat. Drawing and cocking at the same time, he glanced up to see a Visitor swooping down at him, weapon at the ready.
Billy fired, and the Visitor flew backward off his antigravity disk, slamming into the banyan and sliding down into the water. The disk wobbled and turned on its side, knifing neatly into the water. Billy let a second Visitor have it with the double barrel's second round, but there were so many of them now he had to choke back his fear as he plunged his fingers desperately into the backpack in search of more shells.
Whump. The prow exploded in a burst of flame, and the canoe overturned. Everything went into the water: the shotgun, the backpack, the fish, the gear and tackle, the Stetson, and Billy.
He swam underwater as far as he could, reaching the submerged roots of the banyan tree and pulling himself around the back of the swamp giant. When he couldn't hold his breath any longer, he bobbed to the surface.
Three lasers were pointed straight at him.
Billy shut his eyes tight and prayed, but the searing heat he expected never came. Instead, two of the disks descended, one on either side of him. From the third, the forked tongue of an alien darted as it spoke.
"We don't want to kill you," the lizard man's rasping voice said. "If we had wished to kill you, we would have done so before you ever saw us."
"What do you want?" Billy demanded.
The green, scaly face twisted into an expression that might almost have been a smile. "We only want you to come with us."
"Do I have any choice?"
"No."
The two Visitors knelt on their antigravity platforms and pulled their weapon straps over their shoulders. Their clawlike hands free, they reached into the water and pulled the gasping Billy out by his armpits.
"Why are you doing this?" Billy screamed. Water streamed from his clothing, and his black hair hung limply in his eyes. "What are you gonna do to me?"
The Visitor who had spoken didn't answer this time. Instead, he turned on his antigravity disk and began to lead the way through the swamp.
Billy was about to try to wrest himself free of the two who were carrying him, but he saw the water below turn to white foam. 'Gator tails thrashed as the bodies of the two Visitors he had shot were pulled under.
He had no choice. Soaking wet and dangling from between two disks, he resigned himself to his abduction—and prayed there would be a way to escape later.
Chapter 2
Chapter 7
Chapter 33
Chapter 2
Turning into the asphalt parking lot of Nutech, Inc., Jack Stern steered his 1985 Datsun 280-ZX into a parking space. There were already quite a few cars in the lot, and people dressed in tuxedos and gowns were getting out of vehicles and walking toward the monolithic buildings, new and pristine shapes rising out of manicured lawns. Sprinklers just out of range of the walk hurled miniature rainbows against the Florida sun.
Inside the nearest building, Jack found himself in a milling crowd. The lobby was like a terrarium, with all sorts of trees and flowers under glass. Jack liked it, but he was too preoccupied to enjoy the pleasant sights and smells. He wondered where Sabrina could be. She should have met him right here, but there wasn't any sign of her. A lovely girl brought a tray with tiny sandwiches on it, crusts neatly (rimmed from the bread. Jack was hungry after driving all the way from Miami up the coast, so he grabbed one.
"Aren't you Jack Stern?"
Jack turned to see a balding, middle-aged man with a deep suntan.
"Yes, I am."
"Maybe you could give me an autograph," the man said in a jovial voice. "I should probably tell you it's for my kid, but it's really for me, so why lie about it. I'm a big football fan."
Jack politely signed a napkin for him, and the man engaged him in conversation. He was an investor in Nutech and was originally from New York. He didn't know Sabrina.
"I hope the Dolphins make it to the Superbowl this year," the man, whose name had already slipped Jack's mind, said. "What brings you to Nutech anyway, Jack?"
"I have a friend who's going to be employed here as soon as the laboratories open next week. The lady I mentioned— Sabrina Fontaine."
"Oh? What does she do?"
Jack smiled. "She's a biogeneticist."
"Wonderful," the football fan said. "I have to tell you, though, that I don't know a thing about all this." He winked as he gestured at the building around them. "Except that
all the market analysts say there's a fortune in it."
As the football fan rambled on, Jack heard someone call his name, a female voice. He looked around the crowded lobby, expecting to see Sabrina.
Instead, he saw one of the serving girls walking toward him. "Mr. Stern," she said, smiling prettily. "I recognized you from TV. There's a message for you here."
She handed him a folded slip of paper, and Jack opened it as he thanked her and excused himself from the company of the man who had been talking his ear off.
The message was short and sweet. It was from Sabrina, and it said that she couldn't come to Nutech's dedication ceremony.
Great, Jack thought, she's going to be working here and she doesn't show up—and after I drove all the way from Miami.
There was more. Jack felt a tightening in his chest as the note explained that she wasn't going to take the position with Nutech after all. She had been offered a job with another firm, and it promised to be the most exciting work she would ever find. She couldn't discuss it now, and she would be out of town for a few days, but she would be in touch. Love, Sabrina.
lack felt awkward and embarrassed standing around with all these businessmen and scientists, knowing that Sabrina wasn't joining. He loosened his tie and started toward the building's mi.mi entrance. This new job Sabrina was taking must really be something for her to stand him up like this. He trusted her, of i nurse, but she would have some explaining to do when he saw In i next or spoke to her on the phone.
When he saw her next. When would that be? Jack felt a pain in the pit of his stomach. This was all wrong. Not that he doubted it was her handwriting or anything like that. But, dammit, it just wasn't like her to do this.
"Aren't you a flanker for the Dolphins?" a young woman asked as Jack unlocked the car door. He absently signed an autograph for her and then got in. The upholstery and steering wheel were hot as hell as he started up the engine.
Driving toward the interstate, Jack had a hunch that something was going to happen, and it wasn't going to be very nice.
His hunches weren't usually far off the mark.
Sabrina stood on the tarmac, her dark tresses blown by the wind. Two days ago she wouldn't have believed it if anyone had told her she'd be here at the tiny Lantana airport, waiting to be picked up and flown somewhere by somebody she didn't know. But she'd been told some amazing things over the phone, and the man she'd been speaking to, who called himself Dr. Morrow, had known what he was talking about. He'd spoken about a breakthrough in recombining the animal genes that she just had to see for herself. The only way Morrow would let her see, though, was as an employee for Visigen, which was his company.
She'd never heard of it, but Morrow explained that they kept a low profile because of work they were doing for the government. Maybe it was all bull, but she had to know the truth. It wouldn't do any harm to look into it, and Morrow had offered a very decent salary, one that made Nutech's offer seem paltry by comparison.
A low rumble presaged an afternoon thunderstorm. Well, it was 2:15 and her contact ought to be here any minute. If he was on time, she probably wouldn't get wet.
As she waited, the doubts began to bloom like poisonous dowers. They always did about something like this, but every time she'd backed out of something important, she'd regretted later.
"Something like this," she whispered. "Who ever heard of something as secret as this?"
the meeting was highly unorthodox, but how else was she going to find out if Morrow's claims were for real?
only twenty or thirty yards from where she stood, a helicopter began to descend onto the landing pad next to an airstrip. The machine's rotors pushed warm air at her and a moment later it was resting on the ground. The cockpit was a dark glass bubble polarized so that nobody could see who was inside. The word "Visigen" was enclosed in a clever oblong logo on the helicopter's fuselage.
A hatch opened and a man stepped out. He wore a laboratory smock and sunglasses, and his hair and beard were white. He walked toward her, smiled, and extended a hand.
"Dr. Fontaine," he said in a pleasant voice.
Sabrina shook his hand. "I'm delighted to meet you, Dr. Morrow."
His handshake was firm, yet gentle. He still clutched her lingers as he said, "I see that you've decided to take us up on our offer."
"I didn't have much choice," Sabrina replied. "In spite of ,ill the intrigue, it's an offer I can't refuse."
Morrow smiled again. "I see that you have your bag with you. That's good. Our compound isn't terribly far, but you will probably want to stay overnight so that you can see everything."
"It will take two days to look the place over?"
"Yes, I think that's a fair estimate."
Another man emerged from the helicopter. He was younger than Dr. Morrow and also wore sunglasses. He picked up her suitcase and carried it back toward the landing pad.
"Well, then," Dr. Morrow said, "shall we begin your orientation by climbing aboard?"
Sabrina smiled. She was somewhat reassured by Dr. Morrow's courteous air. There was an almost hypnotic quality to his speech pattern that soothed her fears. He put his fingers on her shoulder and helped her step up into the chopper.
Inside, there was seating for four, quite a lot of room for a helicopter. There was even a luggage rack behind the black vinyl upholstery. The man who had put her suitcase in the rack sat next to the pilot, and Dr. Morrow took his place in the seat next to her. He continued to make small talk as the pilot spoke to the tower and they slowly lifted off the ground.
The thunderclouds were nearer now, and they headed right for them. Lightning played among the roiling gray woollike shapes as they passed over the storm and the copter banked, heading due west. That surprised Sabrina; she expected the labs to be either south in Fort Lauderdale or Miami, or north in Orlando.
Dr. Morrow smiled at her as if he could read her mind. "Yes, our compound is a bit off the beaten path. This way, we don't have so many people around asking us questions we aren't authorized to answer."
"I see."
The storm was soon behind them, and the blazing afternoon sunlight returned, though it was dimmed by the polarized glass of the cockpit. They flew over rectangular pastures and the crisscrossing blue lines that Sabrina recognized as canals. At first the flat land extended to the horizon, but then the tops of trees began to appear. The growth became thicker until it was transformed into a jungle. Sabrina knew that the ground here was marshy, swamplike. They were approaching the Everglades.
"Is your compound on the west coast of Florida?" she asked.
"No."
"You mean it's in the Everglades?"
Dr. Morrow smiled charmingly at her. "We maintain our privacy this way. There are many prying eyes who would like to see what we're doing."
They flew a little farther into the dark heart of the swamp. The chopper began to descend. All Sabrina could see were trees as they went straight down. In a moment they would collidewith the uppermost boughs.
Don't worry," Dr. Morrow said. "We'll be all right."
Sabrina glanced at him. He was smiling again. He seemed to be amused by the panic in her eyes. "Nothing to worry about," he said.
Are you sure?" Sabrina closed her eyes as the treetops rose Up to meet them.
She expected to hear the rending of wood and metal, feel the
engine sputter, perhaps even explode as they plummeted to the ground. But nothing happened.
Sabrina slowly opened her eyes. They were passing through the trees as if they were ghosts. Below, long, gleaming buildings were laid out in an octagon. In the middle was something that looked like a Roman amphitheater, only oddly stylized. The architecture was like nothing she'd ever seen before.
At the compound's eight corners were towers on which were mounted projectors. They had passed through a hologram of a forest No one would ever spot this place from the air in a million years. Sabrina had to admit it was very clever.
At that moment she noticed the
guards' uniforms. Crimson. She'd seen them before on television and in the streets of Miami. At first they'd been welcome, but then their presence had turned into a nightmare. Visitors. But how could it be? They were all gone—the Red Dust toxin had seen to that.
She looked at Dr. Morrow, and he returned her gaze with paternal sincerity.
"We thought about trying to deceive you," he said, "but we decided that you would have found us out eventually."
Was she having a nightmare? She glanced around her in terror as the helicopter landed. She saw three white ships—
s kyfighters—around the pad, arranged in a triangle. Green, reptilian faces peered at them through dark glasses. She was trapped.
Her fear boiled over into anger. "You lied to me."
"Not really," Dr. Morrow replied. "Every scientific advance I mentioned exists here at the compound. I'm sure you'll find your stay very interesting—if you'll just adopt the correct attitude."
"Then you're taking me prisoner."
"Let's just say," Morrow told her as he opened the hatch, "that we're going to need your help." He gestured for her to climb out of the chopper.
Sabrina stared out at the steamy swamp dotted with the shining, alien buildings and spacecraft, all peopled by the uniformed reptilian invaders. She wanted to scream, but she remained silent.
Dr. Morrow reached out to help her down, but she shook off his hands and climbed down by herself.
The dark side of Earth's single moon loomed on the m reen before Medea. A dead world, with only the merest traces of water under its surface. Perhaps it would have once served her purposes, but that was millions of years ago. Some ol (he moons of the large gas giants in this solar system had water, but there was no industry in place to help her people uck it up and store it, as there was on Earth.
liven if there had been, she wouldn't have been interested now. The Terrans had angered her, and she intended to make them pay for their insolence. Her scientists were working on an antidote to the horrible red toxin at this very moment, and it wouldn't be long before they could take the fleet back to that blue and white planet and teach the monkeys who lived there a lesson. In the meantime, she would just have to wait.