More than anything we must always remember which side we're on . . . and be willing to fight for it.
Your mother and I will march beside you . . . holding hands again. We'll sing your song of victory—you'll feel us in your hearts. Our spirits will be—"
Choked by sobs, Lynn stopped, but Stanley quoted the last line from memory. "Our spirits will be with you always . . . and our love."
He looked at his wife. "Don't you see, Lynn? We have to help . . . or else we won't have learned a thing."
Chapter 20
The four months following the Visitor raid on the mountain camp were full ones. Mike Donovan continued to meet with Martin, exchanging information and encouragement with the alien officer, who was busy organizing and expanding the fifth column growing amidst the Visitor ranks. Directed by a woman named Jennifer on the New York ship, a quiet cadre of dissenters aided the human resistance movement whenever possible. But their help was limited; Visitor security was at an all-time high since Donovan's theft of the squad vehicle. In spite of his best efforts, Martin had made little headway toward discovering Sean Donovan's whereabouts.
If Martin was unhappy with his progress, Diana and John were pleased with theirs. Development of an improved Visitor head and chest armor rendered Visitor guards and shock troopers nearly immune to most small-arms fire. Even machine guns only knocked down the wearer. Resistance members painfully learned to shoot for vital points, but their lessons cost dearly. The armor, coupled with the Visitors' own naturally thick hides, plus their human-seeming body suits, defeated several resistance raids on plants where Visitors "processed" humans, rounding them up under one pretext or another, gassing them unconscious, then entombing them in the glass canisters Donovan had seen aboard the Mother Ship.
Abandoning the desalinization plants for the moment, the Visitors, now in complete control of human society, began tapping freshwater reservoirs. Soon "conservation" entreaties (supposedly necessary because purification plants were being attacked by terrorists from the scientists' conspiracy) filled the news—water supplies for large cities were growing extremely low.
Diana continued her attempted conversion of world leaders—including the President of the United States and the Secretary of Defense. It might have been simpler to eliminate these leaders altogether, but explanations for their disappearances would have been awkward, particularly with Kristine Walsh requesting interviews with them continually.
Kristine continued her association with the Visitors, but her own doubts as to their good intentions were growing. On one occasion, Corley Walker a distinguished physician and Nobel laureate whom Kristine had met at Gerald Ford's house, publicly denounced her for serving as the Visitor Press Secretary, telling her that she was no longer a newswoman, but merely the minister of propaganda for a fascist regime. Kristine was stunned and humiliated by the man's open hostility and contempt.
A few weeks later, she was summoned to Diana's office/lab just prior to her regular evening broadcast, to meet a "special guest"—and was introduced, by a smiling Diana, to Corley Walker. A very changed Corley Walker who shook hands pleasantly and babbled about their bridge game with the Fords when they'd met in Palm Springs—a man with none of his previous hostility. As she smiled, Kristine struggled to hide her shock, frightened that Diana would see her reaction. Questions she'd repressed since her last meeting with Donovan awoke, and this time would not rest. She remembered the things Donovan had told her and wished she could talk with him—but with Donovan on the Visitors' most-wanted list, such a meeting was too dangerous even to consider
Donovan himself was extremely busy, recruiting new fighters into the resistance and teaching selected recruits to pilot the Visitor craft. His relationship with Juliet Parrish was still strained—Donovan had never been a joiner, and chafed under the restrictions of his new, underground life. It might not have been so bad if it hadn't been for the dreams . . . At least once a week Mike would dream of Sean—frantic, futile nightmares in which he saw his son die, over and over, while he stood by—helpless to prevent it.
All the resistance fighters felt the strain. Elias had managed to get a job at the hospital, which proved extremely useful in supplying the rebels with laboratory equipment and drugs. In addition, he continued his "dealing"—with one difference. Now his supplies of pot, cocaine, uppers, and downers went to members of Visitor Friends groups, including Daniel Bernstein, who now held a security rating and was the human head of all Visitor Youth activities in the Los Angeles area. As Daniel's "dealer," Elias occasionally garnered snippets of information while providing free samples to the young man and his friends—including several Visitors, who discovered that a number of the drugs gave them a high.
Caleb Taylor took a dim view of his son's dealing, even though he knew that Elias was using the drugs to undermine Visitor discipline and obtain information. It was hard for him to shake his distaste for Elias as a pusher. His son sensed his feelings. Relations between father and son were strained.
The Visitor headquarters just outside the city acquired a cleaning lady. Everyone agreed she dressed like a refugee from a bag lady convention, but did good work. Actually, Ruby Engels found she rather enjoyed her cloak-and-daggerish existence. It was surprising the juicy tidbits of intelligence one could glean from emptying trash cans. Years ago she'd spent several years as an actress in little theatre and off-Broadway productions, and her ability to play different roles convincingly stood her in good stead.
Over the months, the resistance had added a few core members: Cal Robinson, a young biochemist who had, like Juliet, started out in med school; Maggie Blodgett, a young woman who, with her now-deceased husband, had run an air transport company; and Father Andrew, a Catholic priest who proved that he'd learned more than a little about military strategy during the time he found himself embroiled in a guerilla war in South Africa.
In addition, the actual resistance developed a network of contacts who, like Stanley and Lynn Bernstein, furnished them with information and aid, while continuing to live and work as they always had. Fred King always worried that he would be caught. He was an intern at Los Angeles Medical Center where Elias worked, and had taken several classes with Juliet. Julie, fully conscious of their desperate need for a full-fledged physician, begged him to join them, but King was adamant—he was a doctor, not a fighter. Even his half-hearted assistance was invaluable. It was Fred who told Juliet about the gala celebration planned to coincide with John's highly secret visit to the hospital. The Supreme Commander, it was rumored, was going to announce some kind of medical breakthrough the Visitors intended to bestow on humanity. Extensive media coverage would be part of the presentation ceremony. But Fred didn't know exactly when—or wouldn't tell.
Juliet had been waiting for just this kind of event. The fighters had suffered too many defeats in the past months (with full Visitor-sponsored news coverage of each) to overlook a chance to publicly unmask the Visitors and demonstrate that resistance to the aliens' domination was possible.
Juliet discussed the possibilities with Robert Maxwell, who, with his daughters, now lived in the headquarters. After Kathleen Maxwell's death the family had grown closer, and the four of them had informally adopted young Josh Brooks. Even Robin's tearful announcement of her pregnancy hadn't shaken Maxwell's new-found patience. He'd been shocked at first, but rallied quickly, even accepting Robin's decision not to reveal the identity of the father. Privately, seeing the shadowed look about his daughter's eyes, he agonized that she might have been raped by one of the other prisoners while interned aboard the Visitor ship.
Robin's decision not to reveal that Brian was responsible for her pregnancy stemmed from her own discomfort. Inexperienced as she was, she knew instinctively that there had been something wrong about his lovemaking—something inhuman. Her infatuation with the handsome young Visitor had evolved into something akin to hatred. She couldn't forget the way he'd pinned her down, forced her, during those last terrified moments.
She
endured her pregnancy uneasily, with a deep-seated fear that she kept to herself. In the beginning, Robert had asked her if she wanted an abortion, but her own belief, sparked by her Catholic upbringing held that abortion was wrong, sinful, so she'd refused. Now, well into her fifth month, she was frightened enough to wish she'd accepted. The baby seemed to be growing faster than Robin's limited knowledge said it should. Her body felt strange . . . One night she'd stumbled sleepily out to the refrigerator in the headquarters and, without thinking, began eating a handful of raw hamburger. It had tasted wonderful—until she woke up fully and realized what she was doing. Shortly afterward, while washing her face one morning, she'd noticed a small, greenish patch of skin on her neck. It looked like an old bruise.
Terrified, she had tried to scrub it off, but the strange-colored band remained, spreading. Juliet tried to reassure the girl, telling her that odd pigmentations are common during pregnancy. But Robin realized bitterly that the bizarre patch baffled Juliet also—heightening her own concern.
The more frightened Robin grew, the more doggedly she clung to her denial of the true nature of the Visitors. She refused to view Donovan's tape, saying privately to Polly that Mike and Julie had faked it to help the resistance recruitment program. When her sister tried to convince her, Robin slapped the younger girl, then burst into tears, begging her forgiveness. After talking with Polly, Maxwell concluded that Robin's experience aboard the Mother Ship had caused such anxiety that she was intentionally blocking out the truth, not wanting to believe she'd ever been imprisoned by creatures as alien as they now knew the Visitors to be. Nobody in her family raised the subject to her again, and Robin became adroit at not hearing references to the Visitors' reptilian nature dropped by the other fighters.
It was Elias who managed to confirm that John would be speaking at the hospital, though he couldn't discover the actual date. Fred King produced the hospital layout plans, while Ruby Engels began to find out about the security. Steven, the Visitor officer who continued to pay court to Eleanor Dupres, was now in charge of security, and it was tight. Special one time-only passes to the gala event would be issued to those on a preferred list of celebrities and Visitor sympathizers. Eleanor was Honorary Chairwoman of the conference, and would be one of the speakers, along with Doctor Corley Walker. There was talk that the President of the United States might attend, and many governors were on the guest list.
During Donovan's next shadowy rendezvous with Martin, the Visitor officer promised him a supply of uniforms. Weapons were out of the question, though, Martin said. But he had managed to call up Sean Donovan's name on the computer, discovering that the boy was in Section 34 of the Los Angeles ship. The Visitor officer asked Mike for a picture to aid him in identifying the boy. Donovan promised to get one.
Mike Donovan wanted to go aboard the Mother Ship immediately to search for his son, but realized that to risk capture before the hospital raid was to court disaster for the entire resistance effort—by now he definitely knew too much. For Martin's own protection, he told him nothing of their plans, but he did request two Visitor communications experts to assist the underground. Mike wanted to prevent the Visitor censors from blanking the disrupted presentation ceremony off the air.
As he left Martin to return to resistance headquarters, Mike promised himself—and Sean—that as soon as he could get away after the raid, he'd find him.
Back at headquarters, Donovan found Juliet, Maggie Blodgett, Robert Maxwell, Elias, Brad, and Ruby Engels gathered in front of the television set, watching Kristine Walsh's evening broadcast. Sitting next to Kristine was his mother, Eleanor, fairly oozing charm. New diamonds glittered at her throat and ears, and on one perfectly manicured finger she sported a rock the size of a human incisor. Kristine was saying, "John, the Supreme Commander, has chosen the Los Angeles Medical Center to make an announcement described to me as, and I quote, 'An answer to a question that has baffled your world and that will relieve untold suffering.' Ladies and gentlemen, this could be a pivotal moment in history, and it is characteristic of this extraordinarily modest man to choose this modest forum to reveal what promises to be one of the most important announcements of all times and the answer to a monumental riddle."
"Yeah," Brad drawled. "How to get rid of the Visitors."
Everyone laughed. The screen focused on Eleanor and Donovan, with a grimace, moved abruptly to click off the set. Everyone looked up. "How did it go?" Robert Maxwell asked.
"One out of two ain't bad. Uniforms, yes, weapons, no. Apparently this security kick they're on includes a careful daily accounting of the number of weapons."
"Damn," Juliet said, then glanced around guiltily to see if Father Andrew was in earshot—he wasn't. "Ruby, what's the word on the passes?"
"They're not being issued until the last moment. They'll be special ones, difficult to duplicate, if not impossible."
"Can you get hold of one for us?" Juliet asked.
"I don't think so. Cleaning ladies can empty trash and listen to what's going on, but I have no excuse to go into their documents-and-printing section."
"Are they using their materials or ours?" Donovan wanted to know.
"Ours."
"Then they can be duplicated," Donovan said.
"Not easily." Brad frowned, thinking.
"What's easy?" Donovan looked up at him. "This whole movement's one giant can of worms. Brad, you're a cop—"
"Ex-cop."
"And, Elias, you're a hood."
Elias grinned woffishly. "Ex-hood."
"Together you should be able to come up with the name of the best counterfeiter around."
"Pascal," said Brad immediately. "Dan Pascal."
Elias grimaced. "If he ain't dead. Lotta underground figures were almost as fast to disappear as the scientists."
"Find out," Donovan said shortly.
Robert Maxwell picked up the binoculars and moved to the window of the rented room. Standing sideways so his body was hidden by the cheap drapes, he scanned the newly installed security wall that surrounded the Los Angeles Medical Center. A gate in the wall was manned by armed shock troopers. As Maxwell watched, a figure emerged from the guard box and examined the identification of a Lincoln that pulled up before the security checkpoint. Maxwell recognized his erstwhile neighbor, Daniel Bernstein. After careful scrutiny, he waved the car through.
"Officious little bastard," Robert mumbled, watching Daniel strut over to the shock troopers, obviously giving them orders.
The door into the room opened and closed, and he turned to see Ruby Engels, dressed in her cleaning lady getup. Wearily she pulled off her bandanna, the frowsy platinum wig coming with it. "We got problems."
"What's up?" asked Mike Donovan, who was sitting on the bed, a notepad in hand. "What kind of problems?"
"There's no way we can get those tickets. And they say they can't be counterfeited."
"Everything can be counterfeited." Donovan stretched lazily. "Some things take more doing than others."
"Is there any way you can get hold of one?" Robert asked.
She made a disgusted face under her near-mask of caked and excessive makeup. "Couldn't even get close. And not only that, they have an exact count. If one pass turns up missing, they're going to change the whole system and redo it."
Robert sat down heavily on the bed. "You mean we have to steal one, counterfeit it, and put it back, before they know it's missing?"
"That's right." She slumped into a chair putting her feet up on the cheap desk. "Houdini couldn't pull that off."
"But I might be able to," Donovan said, sitting up straight, a gleam in his eyes.
"How?" Robert wanted to know
He grinned unpleasantly. "My dear mother."
Juliet Parrish was pacing up and down in the common room at headquarters, thinking over the plan Mike Donovan had presented to her for counterfeiting one of the special passes. She didn't like it. It was too risky. She'd said so to the ex-newsman, and he'd agreed with her. Then, fixin
g her with his frank green stare, he had inquired innocently if she had a better idea.
"Shit!" Juliet said, then looked around guiltily—even though Father Andrew had undoubtedly heard worse, she'd been brought up by parents who held that cussing in front of a man of God was a sin tantamount to murder, if not worse. She wondered briefly how her folks were doing—then shook her head, dismissing that particular concern. She couldn't contact them, now that the Visitors controlled the long-distance lines, and in the past few months she'd learned to worry only about things she could affect.
Elias entered the room. "We got a lizard and his human girlfriend on ice. You want him filleted or fricasseed?"
"You captured one? Oh, good!" Julie's face broke into a radiant smile. "Great! Now I can start some of those experiments!"
"If you still got a live one to play with, Doc."
"What do you mean?"
"Couple of our people got themselves a nasty blood lust."
"Oh, God. I'd better put a stop to that!"
"Figured you'd want him still kicking."
Hastily Juliet followed Elias to the laboratory, where Ruby, Robert, Brad, and Caleb were confronting a mournful-faced Visitor who sat huddled in the corner of the lab. A frightened-looking blonde woman stood between him and the resistance members, clearly protecting the alien.
"Stop it, Robert!" Ruby was saying as Elias and Juliet entered the room. "You're behaving as if you were one of them!"
"He killed my wife," Maxwell said. Juliet had never heard that note in the anthropologist's voice before.
"And my partner," Brad said. He tried to circle around the woman, and Juliet saw the gleam of steel in his hand.
The blonde woman stood her ground. "William didn't kill anyone! He's not a shock trooper—he's just a technician!"
"Yeah?" Brad was openly skeptical. "How do we know that's true?"
"Because I say it is," Caleb Taylor said in his deep, resounding tones. "He worked at the plant where I did. He may be one of them, but he saved my life once. Harmony's right. William's no fighter."
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