by Greg Curtis
About six hours later, just as he was thinking about afternoon tea on his rebuilt deck, they returned, along with several of the lead agents of the agencies, and a string of scientists. Between them they were carrying a number of large containers which he guessed he’d never see into, but by the looks of things, neither would the Feds. They were being kept at arms length by the others, literally. At least a couple of the lead agents decided to fill him in.
It seemed the trackers had finally managed to find something. On a cliff edge five or so valleys over, they’d managed to find a camp site, and a lot more blood. But that wasn’t as important as what they’d found at the bottom of the cliff. Pieces of Dimock. Not big pieces, mainly charred skin and a little bone. But it was enough to tell them the madman had gone over the cliff. Whether by accident or suicide, they would never know, but for them it was irrelevant. What mattered was that they had enough to confirm Dimock was dead. He’d gone off a cliff, and his body had been washed away from the rocks below.
David quickly guessed that the Leinians had fabricated some pieces of flesh, and arranged a nice little scenario for them to swallow, but he wasn’t about to tell them that. Instead he played the over the top paranoid he was expected to be, questioning them at great length about the possibility Dimock had planted the evidence to fake his own death, or else survived the fall. Whereupon the scientists told him if he had faked it, he’d sacrificed some of his ribs, hip and skull to do it, and nothing could survive the fall. He was dead.
The ruse worked even more quickly than anyone could have dreamed. Within three days the last of the agents had left, and life in the valley returned to its peaceful ways. David was told in no uncertain terms by the Police and Feds, that he’d better never cross them as they packed up. They still desperately wanted to speak with him, but had been reined in at the highest level. They were surely also scared by then, having had over two dozen lead agents kidnapped or publicly embarrassed in only a couple of months. They knew who had done it and could probably even guess why, but they couldn’t prove it.
The Army informed him they wanted the remains of his gas, and seized it before he could even argue. They also went through his remaining arsenal and grabbed the rocket launcher, mortar, antitank guns plus any number of armour piercing rounds for the machine guns. It was only fair he supposed as they’d paid for a lot of them. The CIA and DOD took it in turns to warn him repeatedly about the extensive penalties for ever telling anyone anything about Dimock. By which they really meant the Feds.
They also restricted his movements for the next few years to the nearest towns only. Unofficially of course. The slightest whiff of so much as a parking ticket and they were certain the Feds would take him into custody, find some hidden cell and interrogate him till the cows came home. Only the nearest sheriff’s department could be trusted not to tell the Feds if he transgressed. Mainly because they were so frightened of the other agencies they’d rather let David rob a bank than dare arrest him.
But all of them left.
For the first couple of days it was like a dream, as the tension slowly drained from him. There was nobody to ask him questions, nobody watching him, nobody to lie to. It was just peace. The bulk of the structural repairs to his home had been finished a week before as he'd paid for speed, and he decided to finish most of the plaster and paint himself, which got the last of the workmen out of his house a day later and left him with plenty of work to keep him busy. Besides, it would stop the agencies from bugging his home, which he was certain they would try again. The army still wanted to know how he’d gotten his arsenal and the Feds wanted to learn anything they could about Dimock. Thus David found himself having to remove a plethora of devices from his home and truck, which would probably have caused a few red faces.
Of course, they didn’t know that when he’d first moved in he’d set up a drop box at the local post office with among other things, a complete set of counter surveillance equipment, borrowed from the CIA. They wouldn’t be happy when they found out either. They’d be even less happy if they ever found out what he had stored in his lock up in Helena. Or even that he had a lock up.
Finishing the plaster and paint in a matter of days after they’d gone, he soon returned to his normal routines, working out, swimming, driving through the glorious countryside, fishing and generally enjoying himself as best he could, while waiting for the very last of the agents to leave the region. But all the time he was really only waiting for one thing.
Then, very late one evening, just after he’d turned out the lights and crawled into bed, he was startled by a voice he’d been aching to hear.
“Am I disturbing you?”
“Never.” He quickly got up and welcomed Cyrea back into his life. It had been far too long and for no good reason.
Chapter Nineteen
“David!” Cyrea came rushing in clearly excited about something and he rose to greet her happily. It had been a long day without her, and while it was peaceful, it was always so much better when she returned.
“I’ve got something to show you. You’re going to love it.” In her hand she was waving a dvd wildly, and he guessed she’d really got something urgent to show him. She was so excited by whatever it was that she didn’t even kiss him. Instead she pushed the disc into the machine, grabbed the remote and then pushed him back into the couch and sat down beside him.
“This was caught completely by accident as they wandered into one of our sentinel areas. Either they weren’t looking, or else they wanted to get caught.” She fast forwarded the video for about thirty seconds, and then hit play. Instantly they were looking at an image of a couple in a sleeping bag far below, making love in the early morning light. The sun was rising, its morning rays catching the blonde’s hair and making it shine brighter than the sun. The remains of a fire smouldered beside them.
“I don’t get it. Kids have sex in the woods all the time. It sort of goes with the great outdoors. What’s the big deal?” Though of course mostly they didn't expect to be seen. This lack of privacy the Leinians seemed to accept as natural still rankled with him. Though at least they normally stayed out of the home. Except in his case.
“That’s what we thought too. A couple of kids out camping, enjoying the woods. And as you can see, we were completely right, but in more ways than we could have guessed.” The camera starting zooming in on the couple, and David remembered Cyrea mentioning that the tree mounted cameras could spot a grasshopper on the ground fifty feet below. Two kids in a bag were no contest.
But as the image became larger and larger he could see nothing odd. Just the woman’s blonde hair shining brightly while the bag moved rhythmically. They certainly were enjoying themselves though, with the bag looking as though it might explode with some of the contortions it was making.
The couple’s moment came, it was the soft screams that told them that more than anything else, followed by the deep breathing and silence as they slowly recovered. Then the man put his arms around the woman’s head and kissed her soundly as she collapsed on top of him. He put his furry arms around her.
David saw the arms, the line of dark hair running down them, and he realized the truth. The man was a Leinian, and the woman from the way her blonde hair fell past her tanned bare neck, was human.
“We’re not the only ones, and you’re off the hook!” He shouted it at Cyrea as soon as he realised. They were no longer the only mixed couple. Not even the only mixed couple who had been caught on film. Which in turn meant that Cyrea’s time as a screen sex goddess was over. Unable to contain himself he picked her up in his arms and kissed her thoroughly.
She nodded back at him, trying not to laugh with happiness. “It gets better. Believe me it gets better.” He stared at her wondering how it could possibly improve.
“Once the perverts back at the base had realised what was happening, they sent out a swarm of flying cameras to watch them, all in the name of security of course. But even they got more than they bargained for. Boy did t
hese two oblige. They spent the entire day naked, swimming, playing sex games and making love out in the open, completely unaware of the peeping Toms. As we speak, they’re probably still at it, and nobody’s told them that they’re on film. Nobody will. They’ll just keep filming until there’s no film left.”
“So we’re not number one any more?”
“Not even close. Not after these two did it once lying on a muddy river bank, once standing against a tree, twice while swimming, twice in the sleeping bag, and once lying on a big flat high rock. And the woman, well she dominated their unions. And they were inventive too, trying every position I’ve ever heard of, and a few I haven’t. Some of those we’re going to be trying tonight by the way.” From the looks of things he guessed, ‘tonight’ might not be very far away, Cyrea was truly happy.
“I look forward to it.” Which was only the truth. Then he noticed something else on the screen that bothered him; the woman’s hair. It was pure blonde, and in the sun’s rays it turned into a golden halo. But Heather he remembered, had been a dusky blonde, her hair streaked with other shades.
“Can we see their faces.” Cyrea happily obliged, fast forwarding the video until they saw the two of them getting up out of the bag. Immediately he saw her he knew the truth.
“That’s not Heather.” It wasn’t. The woman in the photo was younger, perhaps twenty at most, tall and thin, with a tan that spoke of years on beaches, and blonde hair running all the way to her waist. She looked like a surfer.
“I know.” Cyrea was positively glowing with happiness. “That’s not Dafi either.” If anything her grin broadened, and she looked as though she was going to break into song at any moment. David too started smiling, as he realized what it meant. There might actually be three couples, though if Dafi and Heather had finally gotten down to business, they were keeping it very quiet. But then they would after seeing what had happened to him and Cyrea.
“We don’t know who the woman is, but the man is Ayer, one of our technicians. Barely twenty of your years, he was supposed to be out on a private camping trip through the ranges. Instead he doesn’t seem to have made the hills at all in a week, and tomorrow morning he’ll be overdue. Which will be a great excuse to visit and get the story.” He looked at her and she beamed back at him, telling him what she meant without words.
“I take it we’ve got the job.” It wasn’t really a question when he was sure of the answer, but then he didn’t actually mind too much. It was just a little embarrassing.
“We leave straight after breakfast.” He suddenly understood the rest of her reason for celebrating. She was going to get to meet another Leinian in the same boat as her, and a human woman who was also soon to be sailing with them on the choppy seas of public voyeurism.
It had been hard for Cyrea he knew. Not just because of the publicity, but because of the questions. For him there had been no questions. Very few humans knew about their relationship, and of those who did he barely saw them anyway. And when he did few said anything. The most he’d had was the odd off colour joke from a few of the men. Jokes he was sure that they’d never let their wives hear.
Cyrea though had to return each day into her world where she was constantly being either questioned or else simply made to doubt her decisions. She hadn’t left him, she couldn’t and he knew that even if she could have, she would have refused point blank. As much as he loved her she loved him, and that was an odd thing for a hardened agent to understand. But that didn’t mean she didn’t suffer at her people’s well-meaning questions.
“It’ll be a nice day for a drive in the country.” He kissed her firmly.
“Or a flight over it.”
“In a bubble jet?” Grief he wanted to fly in one of their gliders. But he wouldn’t dare ask for a flight from Lar. He was still unpopular with the officer. Caught somewhere between being either a paranoid nutter with murderous tendencies, or a guilt ridden hysteric with no understanding of Leinian society, technology or rules. Neither seemed a favourable option. And neither would motivate them when it came to him asking for favours. So he’d decided to keep his head down ever since Dimock, and let the worry about him fade. Helping wherever he could, following their rules, and trying to be, or at least to look like a model citizen. Trying to make a better impression. But still he desperately wanted to fly in one of their flying bubbles.
“If you’re good!”
“I'll be good!”
Chapter Twenty
They spotted the couple easily from half a mile away. For some reason they stood out against the grey rocks, especially when seen from the air.
David breathed a sigh of relief when he saw them. Despite all the gossip to the contrary they didn’t spend all day every day making love in highly gymnastic ways. For once they were just sitting, talking, side by side, while their breakfast was cooking. They were even clothed, though not very. The woman wore a skimpy ultra white bikini, and Ayer had on just a pair of shorts.
Cyrea brought the flier down gently on a clearing less than fifty yards from where they sat, while David spent his time alternating between scrutinizing the young couple, and staring in awe at the craft. The floating bubble made no noise, floated rather then flew, and had two little turbine engines towards the rear that pushed it silently along at upwards of two hundred miles an hour regardless of the wind. More than that, as light as it was it didn’t even seem to know what turbulence was.
The tiny little four-seater flier made every plane he’d ever flown obsolete and uncomfortable by comparison. Nor did it apparently require advanced training to fly. Instead, the pilot just seemed to point the steering wheel, left right, up down, forwards or back, and the craft’s computer took them there, automatically allowing for obstacles and the possibility of other craft. The computer simply wouldn’t allow them to crash. To add insult to injury the flier had a clear plastic dome that extended to the floor, giving the travellers the most incredible view. It was as close to actually flying as he would ever get. He knew what he wanted for Christmas, - flying lessons.
The two youngsters watched them as they landed, and he doubted it was with much joy. But then they were young. They had better things to do than greet visitors. The moment he laid his eyes directly on them he knew that the couple were barely out of their teens. The woman stared, surprised though whether by the craft or its occupants he couldn’t tell. Ayer just looked somewhat crestfallen, understanding they’d been caught. The holiday was over. They were holding hands he noted, apparently determined to face the music together. Why? He knew of no trouble they could be in.
Cyrea turned the engine off, and they popped the top and got out, a simple procedure when all it involved was swivelling in the seat and standing up. Even so he made sure to get out ahead of her and help her to her feet. If army life taught a man anything it was manners.
Then they wandered over, hand in hand, smiling wryly. All four of them in the same boat.
“So you’ve been having fun I hear.” David could have pretended he was surveying the camp site, looking at the single sleeping bag, their state of undress, and putting the inevitable facts together, but for once he couldn’t be bothered. Instead he chuckled quietly, while Cyrea squeezed his hand warningly. They were here to get the facts, not scare the kids into denial.
“How did you know?” Ayer at least understood they had been caught long before the two of them had arrived, while the girl just looked confused, and slightly scared.
“Cameras.” David waved at the trees and sky and the boy wilted visibly. But he at least wouldn’t try to deny it, knowing he couldn’t. No doubt later he would take the time to feel really stupid, since he knew the woods were dotted with them, and he obviously hadn’t thought to look.
“Who are you?” The girl was becoming more and more uncertain as she stared at them, evidently noting the way they held hands, the way that David helped Cyrea to sit down, and then sat down immediately beside her. She didn’t need his help, but she accepted it knowing he did it out
of love rather than chauvinism.