“You goddamned rustlers!” Marie cried, loading another round. “Get the hell away from my herd!” With that she fired again.
The sheep, silent, unmoving, continued to rise toward the thing in the sky. Marie, knowing the second animal was lost, began firing rapidly to spook the flock into running. Transfixed by the lights, they remained still.
When the second sheep disappeared into the orb, the blue beam didn’t reappear. Marie yelled at the barking dogs to turn the flock, spurring Rex forward at the same time.
Above, the orbs shot up toward the glowing clouds, and in the valley, the sheep, as one, bolted.
Marie and the collies finally herded the flock into a corner of the meadow, where the sheep, being sheep, quickly forgot their fear and settled down for the night. Ordering the dogs to stay with them, she rode Rex back to camp, where she gathered her belongings, then rode back to the flock. She quickly laid the bedroll out, then sat cross-legged, her back resting against a hill. She began cleaning her rifle. There would be no more sleep tonight; she couldn’t move the herd back to her ranch until dawn, but she could keep a lookout for any more skyborne rustlers. She didn’t know what the hell had happened, and she decided not to think about it, not out there all alone. In the dark.
Above, the glowing clouds moved eastward, toward Spirit Canyon.
31
Justin Martin
PREPARE YOURSELF.
The Voice boomed in Justin’s mind as he pulled off the road.
Climbing from his Mustang, his eyes fixed on the lights above, he whispered, “For what?”
Your destiny.
“What is my destiny?”
There was no reply, but as he stared up into the night sky, he realized he already knew the answer.
32
Carlo Pelegrine
IN HIS APARTMENT ABOVE THE SORCERER’S APPRENTICE, CARLO Pelegrine sat by the window and wondered what Dr. Manderley’s first name might be. Whatever it was, he thought, she must be in heaven with the light show going on over Rattlesnake Canyon. He got up from his chair and went into his small, neat kitchen, took a wineglass from the cupboard and poured himself a half glass of Merlot, then returned to the living room and settled by the window again.
She hadn’t shown up for the books today. Instead, a lanky young man who identified himself as her assistant had picked them up. The realization that he had only imagined a connection with her the day before saddened him. It had seemed so strong that he would have sworn she felt the same electricity between them as he had.
It’s for the best. He had told himself that all afternoon and evening, ever since Dr. Manderley’s assistant left his shop, and intellectually he knew that was the truth, but his emotions weren’t convinced.
And just what the hell would you do if she was interested in you? That was the thing: There could be no relationship. He had promised God.
But you don’t believe in a God anymore, do you? He’d been born into a Brooklyn Italian Catholic family, and his youth was filled with the church—confessions, prayers, Communions—and he was even an altar boy for a while. He never questioned the religion, not even after . . . That’s why he had promised God his chastity, among other things.
About ten years ago, when he began working at the restaurant, he first began to doubt his faith. At that time he had started studying other philosophies and religions, which led to his realization that his was an incomplete religion. So much had been removed—reincarnation beliefs chief among them—and replaced with manipulative devices that let the church control its members’ actions. It, as most religions, required that a person forever be a child who had to answer to a stern, fatherly God represented, of course, by the church, which required money and loyalty to perpetuate itself and grow. Fear was the best guarantee of these things.
Carlo found that once he thought about it, he couldn’t buy organized religion anymore. He believed that a man’s relationship with his God—whatever it might be—was personal, and a man’s actions were his own responsibility. Asking God for forgiveness was a cheat. The only one who could forgive you was yourself.
How could he keep promises when he no longer believed in the God he originally made the promises to? To Carlo, it was simple: He kept them for himself as well as for the safety of the rest of the world. The monster within him was aroused by lust, and it had to be kept at bay. The only way he could justify his continued existence was to keep his promises.
He swallowed the last of his wine. He could have no intimate relationships, and he knew that if he was ever too tempted to break his promise, he would have to end his life.
The wisest thing in the Bible was in every other religion as well: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Carlo believed that what you gave, you received. It was a belief akin to karma, and it meant that if you committed an act against another person, sometime, somehow, the universe would balance itself. He had no doubt that he would pay for his past crimes someday. His acts of atonement would not excuse him from the balances of the universe, nor give him forgiveness, but they helped ease his conscience and his pain.
33
Alexandra Manderley
“FANTASTIC! INCREDIBLE!” ERIC WATSON ADJUSTED THE ZOOM on one of the stationary cameras, then returned to the telescope. “I can’t believe we’re getting all this!”
“Neither can I.” Alex kept her eye on the eyecup of her Minicam as she spoke. “We’ve hit the jackpot, Eric.”
She had been controlling the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl ever since the flying objects first appeared over Olive Mesa to the west, nearly an hour ago. Slowly the objects had moved eastward, the largest one unfortunately mainly visible as a glow within the clouds. The objects had loitered over Rattlesnake Canyon for some time, finally moving again shortly after a series of rifle-shots.
Now, as they approached Spirit Canyon, Alex and Eric had caught several glimpses of the huge craft in the sky. Though the UFOs were somewhat north of them, the sky overhead was clear, and Alex’s hopes for a clear shot increased with each passing second.
The edge of the huge object moved out of the clouds, a dark mass underlit by a series of brilliant blue and green lights. “Are you getting this, Eric?”
“You bet,” he called excitedly.
One of the twin globes swept toward them at terrific speed, then suddenly halted. Silently it hovered, perhaps two hundred yards overhead, and they trained their instruments on it. It appeared to be nothing but a ball of light.
“Look!” Eric called.
The mother craft had come halfway free of the clouds. It was much higher up, and the other globe moved around it like a scavenging fish around a whale. A moment later, the whole of it appeared, a giant elongated oval, moving with impossible silence.
A hot wind swept over them, sending papers flying, rattling their equipment. The charge light on the Minicam flickered, went out, and the ground rolled beneath Alex’s feet. As the huge craft drew equal with them, the ground shook harder. A lantern flew off the table and one of the camera tripods fell. The Bronco rocked, and another tripod crashed. Still Alex hung on, and cradling the useless Minicam in her arms, she raced to scoop up one of the cameras.
The ground bucked and Eric lost his footing, going down on his rear, yet managing to hold on to the photo-telescope. “Is the ship doing this or are we having an earthquake?” he yelled.
“I don’t know,” she called as the shaking subsided. The craft was moving so slowly that it seemed stationary.
Suddenly there was a low roar of engines to the west. A military jet appeared an instant later, flying toward the UFOs. The bright orbs swooped beneath the mother craft and winked out as they entered a dark underpatch.
A second jet appeared from behind the mountains, and at that instant the UFO stopped its stately, slow movement entirely. A fraction of a second passed and then the craft shot up and away, so quickly that in a heartbeat its lights had disappeared.
The jets circled and flew away to the north.
Alex checked her Minicam and found the light was back on. She grinned at Eric. “We got some good stuff.”
He nodded, smiling back. “Too bad those moronic flyboys had to come along.”
“I’m surprised it took them so long, to be honest.” Alex pushed her windblown hair away from her face. “We’ve got the best that’s ever been had, Eric. I’m sure of it.”
Eric looked at the eastern hills as another roar of aircraft rose. “Now what?”
Alex readied her camera. “Take more pictures.”
Three dark helicopters appeared from behind the hilltops. Insectile, locustlike, they flew over the craggy hills, coming closer and closer, the lead chopper slowly lowering itself until it was within the canyon walls.
Wind from the blades whipped Alex’s hair into her face, and she clawed it away, keeping the camera on the aircraft. It was black and slightly different from any other military craft she’d seen.
“What the hell is he doing?” Eric cried over the screaming wind. He grabbed the telescope and shielded it from the blowing dust.
One of the tents ripped free of its moorings and went toppling away like a tumbleweed. Alex kept filming. “Put the scope in the truck. The cameras, too,” she ordered, dust filling her mouth and nose. The chopper hovered twenty feet above. Fifteen.
The other tent flew against the Bronco’s side, and the card table cartwheeled across the clearing. The other lantern crashed and went out, leaving them in darkness.
The helicopter hovered only ten or twelve feet above them. Alex could almost touch its landing skids.
“You bastards!” Alex screamed as the force of the wind knocked her back against the truck. She fought to keep the camera trained on the aircraft. “You filthy bastards!”
The chopper remained for another twenty seconds, creating a windstorm that destroyed their camp and scratched their equipment before rising to join the other two high above. They circled and flew back the way they had come.
Alex stood up and placed the Minicam in the Bronco. Grimly she pulled out two flashlights and handed one to Eric, who was bemoaning a ruined camera lens. “Let’s get this place cleaned up.”
“Why?” he asked, staring in the direction the helicopters had gone.
“It was a warning,” Alex said briskly. She righted the card table. “If I haven’t told you before, I’ll tell you now: Where the government is concerned, we have every reason to be paranoid.” She picked up a lantern and jiggled it to life. “Bastards.” Looking back at Eric, she smiled bitterly. “In a way, what happened is a good thing.”
“You’re kidding.”
She shook her head. “Nope. It means we saw something they didn’t want us to see. First thing in the morning, we send our film off to APRA. And not from here. From Barstow, or better, Victorville, where our fine khaki friends won’t be able to interfere with the mail so easily.”
“Maybe we should use a private courier.”
“Good idea,” Alex said dryly. “I wonder if Brinks is available.”
34
Tom Abernathy
“DON’T MOVE, MISTER.” A RIFLE COCKED.
Tom stayed stock-still and spoke softly. “Marie, your words are music to my ears.”
“Tom!” Marie’s voice was loaded with relief.
“That’s me.” He heard the trigger guard snap into place.
“What are you doing here?” She appeared out of the shadowy darkness cast by a huge boulder.
“Saw the light show and thought I might take a look.” He didn’t dare tell her he was worried about her; you never knew how a woman would take that nowadays, but he’d been worried sick nevertheless, especially when those little shooting stars dropped so low into the canyon, he couldn’t see them as he and Belle galloped up the trail. And when he heard all the gunshots . . . well, he’d imagined the worst. “I heard shooting,” he added, too casually. “Get yourself a mountain lion?”
“Get down off that horse and I’ll make some coffee.” Marie held Belle’s muzzle close to her face while Tom dismounted, nuzzling and being nuzzled. Tom grabbed his saddlebags and two canteens, smiling; Marie and Belle had a little thing going between them.
Belle chuffed, and Rex, fully saddled, trotted up and nudged Marie’s shoulder. “Jealous,” she chided, but gave him the same treatment.
“Looks like Rex is ready for a quick getaway.” Tom got the propane stove going.
Marie poured water from a jug into a pot and set it on the grate. “Lost a couple sheep tonight. Rex is ready to help me get them back.”
“Did you see who took them?”
She nodded slowly, taking a pouch of coffee out and watching the water. “I saw them, assuming I’m not losing my mind.”
“What did you see?” Tom asked gently.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, cowboy.”
“Try me.”
She shook her head. “Nope. You’ll think I’m spinning a windy; next thing I know, you’ll be asking me to go tell ghost stories to your tourists.”
“That’s not gonna happen,” Tom said solemnly. He took her shoulders and turned her to face him. “You have a run-in with those UFOs? That what you were shooting at?”
She studied him so long that the water began to boil. She pulled away and dumped too much ground coffee into it. Tom squatted and gave the brew a quick stir.
“Yep, cowboy,” she said softly. “I was shooting at UFOs, and if you ever, ever tell that to a soul, I’ll have your hide.”
Tom held up a couple fingers. “Won’t tell. Scout’s honor.” He stirred the pot again, inhaling the fragrance. “Catch yourself anything?”
“Not a damn thing.” Marie got a tin cup from her pack and handed it to Tom. “Hope you don’t mind sharing. They got two of my flock, and I got squat.”
“How?” Tom poured coffee and sipped it. It was so strong, it should have been as thick as molasses. “Perfect,” he added, passing it to her. “How’d they take them?”
“Tom, I can’t say.”
“You don’t know?”
“You won’t believe me.”
“Course I will. I believed what you already told me.”
“This is weirder. I don’t believe it myself.”
“‘There are stranger things on heaven and earth . . .”’ Tom tried to quote.
“Whatever. This was the strangest.”
“Give me a clue, woman.”
“You’ll keep quiet?”
“Yes.”
“One of those little balls of light beamed them up.”
They finished four cups of coffee between them before Marie finished her story, ending with the jets chasing after the UFOs and the little earthquake. When she was done, he whistled, low. “I gotta admit, Marie, if I’d told that story, I wouldn’t believe it, but seeing as you’re the teller, I do.”
“You do?” she asked, her relief apparent.
“Course I do. I don’t understand it, but I believe it. What are you aimin’ to do about it?”
She shrugged and poured more brew. “Isn’t like I can go to Moss and say, ‘Chief, little blue men’ve been rustling my flock,’ now is it?”
“I guess that wouldn’t be too smart,” Tom said, raising an eyebrow.
She smiled back. “Can’t you just see the expression on his face?”
“I’d like to see the Wanted posters.”
They laughed, and for the first time, Marie relaxed a little, settling back against the hill, right next to him. Dust and all, she smelled wonderful, and he had to resist the urge to move closer.
They sat silently for a while, watching the sky. The clouds had thinned, leaving a clear field of star-dotted black velvet. “Marie?” Tom asked.
“Yeah, cowboy?”
“You bringing the flock home tomorrow?”
“Yep. Figure I’ll put the woollies in the barn at night for a while.”
“Good idea. Got any other plans?”
“Just to check around in the morning to see if there’s an
y sign of the missing sheep. Alive or dead. Or . . .”
“Mutilated?”
“Uh-huh. I’ve seen those lights zipping around before, along about the time of the other mutilations. Never saw all that I saw tonight, though.” She paused. “You have the time?”
Tom lit a match and squinted at his watch. “A little past two.”
“I’ve got more water, but I’m out of coffee.”
“I brought extra,” he told her, snagging a Baggie from Belle’s saddle.
Marie gave him a sideways glance. “What are you smirking about, cowboy?”
He felt himself blush. “I guess I was hoping you’d invite me to stick around.”
“Well, I’m glad you showed up, Tom.”
“Me too.” Her words made his stomach do a little flip-flop, kind of like when he was ten years old and Nancy McLeod had pushed him up against the monkey bars at school and kissed him.
They started brewing more coffee. “If you want some expert advice,” Tom began.
“About what?” she asked sharply.
“The sheep rustlers.”
“Tom, I told you, nobody’s to know. It’s too crazy.”
“Just hear me out. After you left, this lady scientist showed up. She and her assistant are up in Spirit Canyon watching for UFOs.”
“Guess they’re happy campers tonight.”
Tom chuckled. “Guess so. Anyway, I invited the lady to the barbecue tomorrow night, so if you take a shine to her, you might want to talk to her a little.”
“Not likely,” she said stubbornly. “I don’t need to be written up in some journal.”
“Well, it’s your call. My lips are sealed.”
Marie’s expression softened, “Thanks, Tom. I know I can trust you. Water’s boiling. Want to hand me that coffee?”
He snagged the pouch and passed it to her. She reached out a little too far and her fingers closed briefly on his. Delighted, he caught her gaze. “You’ve got the biggest brown eyes,” he said without thinking first.
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