Variations on Humanity

by Paul Eslinger

  “Me too?” Karen tapped herself on the breast with one thumb. “I work in a drug store and help out in the pharmacy. I don’t have any training for that kind of thing.”

  “We’re looking for aptitude and abilities. Skills will come with time.”

  Twenty minutes later, Karen and Craig were both still asking questions. Rhona thought they would say yes. Craig was strongly interested but she couldn’t read Karen very well. Her earpiece came to life. “This is Sam. You have a problem.”

  Rhona shot to her feet and raised one hand to kill the current conversation. “What kind of problem?” She tapped the earpiece to activate the external speaker.

  “Two suburbans and two pickups are heading your way carrying about a dozen guys. NSA sucked in data on your flight plan. Some people there routed it to PURE and several NSA operatives already watching Craig and Karen. The NSA operatives picked up several half-drunk guys from a bar over in Boeme.”

  “Can you shut them down?”

  Sam’s voice grew brisk. “We’re on it. Their engines just died and the headlights just went out.”

  “You phrased that weird. Where are you?” Keene asked.

  “Heh, heh,” Sam said. “I’m about a thousand feet above Craig’s house and Trixie is circling above me.”

  “I thought you were in Jetmore!”

  “So does everybody else.” Sam chuckled. “These guys are heading your way on foot. You have six to eight minutes before they arrive. Some are carrying weapons.”

  “Okay.” Rhona turned to Craig and Karen. “It’s time to fish or cut bait. You can stay and exchange pleasantries with these guys or you can come with us. What’s it going to be?”

  Craig turned and looked down at Karen. “I’m planning to take the job, but I won’t abandon you to those drunken thugs.”

  “Thirty seconds,” Rhona prompted as she edged towards the door.

  “I… This is sudden… How do we know this isn’t staged for our benefit?” Karen looked up at Craig and shook her head.

  “Nah,” Craig replied. “I’ve known Keene too long to think this is fake. Are you coming or staying?”

  Karen took a shuffling step closer to Craig and shivered. “I’m not dumb enough to think they will just go away. I’ll go with you.”

  Craig gathered Karen close with one arm and looked at Keene. “We’re ready to go, boss.”

  Rhona fingered her earpiece. “Sam and Trixie, we have two passengers. Can you land and load?”

  “Be there in a minute,” Sam replied. “Some of those guys are running your way. Get the lead out and move.”

  Gravel crunched under Rhona’s feet as she hurtled over the steps and landed on the driveway. She sprinted ahead and slapped her hand on the edge of the chariot. The canopy opened while the others hurried across the driveway.

  Adrenaline heightened her senses as Rhona looked around. It was dark enough, and there were enough live oak trees, that she couldn’t see very far in any direction. She looked at Keene and jerked her head towards the rear seat of the chariot. “Load Karen first?”

  “Makes sense,” Keene said.

  Rhona could see Keene’s eyes darting back and forth in a futile effort to locate the incoming assailants. He turned towards Karen. “You first.”

  She looked at the chariot. “Is there a door?”

  “Nope,” Keene responded. He looked at Craig when he touched Karen’s arm. “Can you give me a hand?”

  “Sure,” Craig responded. The two men grabbed Karen and threw the slender, five-foot two-inch woman into the rear compartment.

  The driveway brightened as another chariot appeared in the air near the top of the trees and swooped down onto the driveway. Trixie called out when the canopy over the rear compartment retracted. “Hurry up. Time to go.”

  Keene gave Craig a shove. “Get in.” Keene turned and looked at Rhona as the new recruit vaulted into Trixie’s chariot. “Get in. I’ll wait for Sam.”

  Air whooshed when Trixie lifted off. Rhona nodded, knowing Sam would be on the ground in a few seconds. She turned, grabbed the edge of the chariot, and swung into the pilot’s seat. She issued the command to close the canopies but she didn’t lift off. Nothing those men could carry could get through the hull of an intact chariot.

  Sam’s landing lights gleamed as he brought his chariot to a stop on the gravel. Keene took three quick steps and vaulted into the rear seat.

  Rhona heard a slapping noise and a grunt from Keene at the same time. He twisted sideways and then slid down in the seat. The canopy rose around him. Emotion fueled her shout. “Keene, Keene. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” he grunted. “Someone shot me, but the suit held. I probably won’t even have a bruise.”

  Sam lifted his chariot to just above the tops of the trees. “I’ve got him,” he snarled. Moments later, his voice moderated. “The bastard was using a night scope. I just fried all of the electronics. Let’s vamoose.” A rumble drifted down from the sky as all three pilots pushed the chariots to supersonic speeds.

  Karen’s voice came over Rhona’s intercom. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes. We can talk now.”

  “Oh… They were trying to kill us, weren’t they?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “What can you do to stop them?”

  Rhona’s first response sounded more like a snarl of a cougar than a chuckle. Her voice held a hard edge as she responded. “The president said he would help. I’m taking his people a lot of information tomorrow on the perpetrators. We’ll see if he actually helps.”

  Chapter 34 – Opening Gambit

  Although Brian Rodabaugh looked younger than he had a week previously, weariness rode his shoulders as he placed his breakfast tray on the table between Rhona and Laura. “Yesterday was a busy day,” he said.

  “You don’t look like you got any sleep,” Rhona responded. She was tired, and she had gone to bed at midnight, leaving the others to finish putting together the data she planned to give David Beganovic. Keene and Sam weren’t up yet.

  “I didn’t,” he replied with a puckered grin. “I’ll take a nap after breakfast so Nanda doesn’t wrestle me into one of those cocoons holding Andrea.”

  “What took so long?” Laura asked.

  “Just before midnight we thought we had put the puzzle together, and all that remained was the details.”

  “Yeah,” Rhona responded. “I left about then.”

  “Sam and Trixie have been playing with a new analysis algorithm. Their new lines of inquiry implicated more people.”

  Rhona ignored the sinking feeling in her stomach. “How many?”

  “Three top-ranking military men, four senators, and a cabal of five highly-placed business leaders. There are twelve at the top level and they use the code word Medusa.”

  “Medusa. Like the monstrous woman from Greek mythology?”

  “That’s right. They intend to kill–excise is their favorite term–all of the aliens on Earth.”

  “Do we have enough information to bring them down?”

  Brian chuckled. “Never ask a lawyer that question. The case looks airtight to me, but I’ve seen judges–honest judges–refuse to accept what I thought was irrefutable logic.”

  Laura placed her hand on Brian’s arm. “Do you need to go to Washington with Rhona?”

  He shook his head. “No. We aren’t planning to litigate this case. We’re just turning over evidence.”

  “Did you find out anything more about Major Rucker?”

  “Not a lot,” Brian said with a shrug. “He has a history in the hunt and he is playing a bit role for General Breneman. He’s nowhere near the top of the power pyramid.”

  “What about Enzio Martin?”

  Brian shook his head and took a sip of coffee. “He’s an enigma, a shadow. We don’t know where he is
. We found the computer issuing orders for him. It’s in a remote location. No one has physically been there for at least three weeks and there aren’t any incoming directives. The power supply in the building is good for about six months, so no one has to come reset things when the power goes out for a few minutes.”

  Unwilling to set aside the old hunt, and more inclined to talk to humans than a computer, Rhona cycled back to the previous question. “Do we know where Rucker is?”

  “Not now. He’s disappeared.”

  “We need to find a way to keep track of him.”

  “I agree.” Brian’s laugh sounded tired. “Sam has a suggestion.”

  “What’s that?” Laura asked.

  “He was getting tired last night, so his suggestion was rather crude. I’ll paraphrase. Let’s have a canis inject a tracer in his butt the next time we locate him.”

  “Will that work?” Rhona asked when she saw a quickly hidden twinkle of humor on Laura’s face.

  “The delivery method is different than… Yes, it could work.”

  One of Rhona’s eyebrows twitched upwards as she considered Laura’s expression and words. “Have you done this before?” She slapped her own buttock. “Did you stick me with a tracer?”

  “Yes and no.” The corners of Laura’s mouth indicated barely restrained humor. “Nanda and Trixie can identify the appropriate tracer.”

  Rhona raised her hand. “I volunteer to be the delivery girl.”

  Brian chuckled and shook his head. “Today, we’re going to look at collating foreign, non-American that is, data. Dulcis has already started running the new algorithms.”

  A new thought caused Rhona to shift topics. “We had a few difficulties yesterday. A bulldozer, a jackhammer, and then rifle-toting buffoons spread halfway across the continent from each other.”

  “Yes?” prompted Laura with one raised eyebrow.

  “You don’t want to resist hard enough to kill people.” Rhona paused while Laura shuddered and shook her head. “Trixie and Sam deactivated heavy equipment, shut down vehicle engines, and even deactivated the electronics in a night scope on a rifle yesterday. What are you willing to shut down?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You can shut down or take over electronic control systems. With enough advance notice, you can probably keep the entire embassy safe from remote attack. However, rabid people carrying knives could overrun us, just like in a zombie movie.”

  Laura cradled her head in her hands and spoke to the table. “I saw advertisements for some of those movies. They were sick. You don’t think it will come to that, do you?”

  “Probably not on a large scale, but we already saw it on a small scale with Andrea. We can never totally rule out long-range weapons, especially something like the 9/11 plane attacks.”

  “Rational humans wouldn’t need heavy weapons.” Laura raised her head and her eyes glowed yellow. “We could shut down the arms industries all across the planet.”

  “Is that your plan?” Brian asked.

  “No. We predict a number of governments would equate that type of action to a declaration of war. Humans are illogical. The very actions intended it prevent a war might just trigger one.”

  Brian bored in with another question. “Do you have an alternative plan?”

  “Uh…” Laura shook her head. “I’m not ready to talk about my plans.”

  Thoughts swirled through Rhona’s mind. “Will you ever be ready to talk? I’m sure you have long-term plans. Some are economic, some are political, and some…” She set aside the thoughts and shrugged. “Okay.”

  After a few bites of her excellent omelet, Rhona directed another question at David. “Did you finish putting together the information I’ll be handing over? I planned on leaving in an hour.”

  “We got it done. Keene went to bed at 3:15 so he could get some sleep. He says he’s riding shotgun for you.”

  Pleased that Keene was coming to ensure her safety, Rhona smiled and took another bite. “You must have put together an executive summary.”

  “That’s right.” Brian chuckled. “This is the first time it has been appropriately labeled.”

  * * *

  The sun was high in the cloudless sky when Rhona brought the chariot to a stop and hovered over a parking lot beside the White House South Lawn. She activated her phone. “We’re here, David.”

  David Beganovic and two secret service agents were standing in two open parking spots. David glanced up as Rhona deactivated the cloaking shield. “Oh,” he barked. “You startled me.”

  The people on the ground stepped up on the sidewalk. Rhona glanced around to ensure the area was clear of pedestrians and then landed the chariot without a bump. She took a moment to secure the chariot and then she vaulted out on the pavement. Keene exited just after her, holding a folder.

  Rhona moved close to David with a big smile. “Thanks for saving me a parking spot.”

  “You’re welcome.” David nodded at Keene and then indicated the others. “These are Agents Almquist and Hanson.”

  “Good day.” The agents spoke in unison and made no move to approach or touch the new arrivals.

  “This way,” David said. He turned and started walking. One agent moved in front of them and the other one trailed behind. David smiled, “You’ll have to forgive them. They get cranky when the President tells them to let someone fly to the steps of the White House.”

  Even though Rhona had visited before, and she had the proper credentials, the guards at the White House entrance were quite thorough with their scans and searches. Keene had never been there before, and the process took several minutes. Finally, they passed into an interior region devoid of members of the public.

  They turned a corner and walked along a hall. David soon stopped with his hand on a doorknob. “We’ll meet in this conference room.”

  “Sure,” Rhona replied. She cocked her head slightly and raised one eyebrow. A different secret service agent had accompanied them inside the White House.

  “Agent Tift will wait outside,” David said. He pointed to a bench attached to the opposite wall. “The bench is actually comfortable. I’ve spent several hours there myself in the last few weeks.”

  “You asked for this meeting,” David said after they closed the door and took seats around a table big enough for a dozen people. “Has something new come up?”

  “In a sense,” Rhona replied. She put her hand on the folder Keene had placed on the table and slid it over in front of David. “This is the only paper copy of this information.”

  David laid his folded hands on the folder without opening it. “Important?” he asked.

  “The president offered to help us after someone mugged Andrea.”

  “He did,” David agreed. “How is she doing?”

  “She got out of the infirmary just after we left to come here. She is completely healed.”

  David shook his head, “That’s really quick.”

  “That’s a million years of incremental medical advances,” Rhona replied. She pointed at the folder. “The people we identify in there want to kill the Abantu and steal the technology.”

  “Fools,” David blurted.

  “Powerful fools,” Rhona replied icily. “Three top military people, including General Breneman, four senators, and five rich business tycoons. Then, the underlings, of course.”

  “Do they really think they can get away with it?”

  “They don’t think Ceres will come back, at least not in their lifetimes. They want more than the Abantu technology. They plan to assassinate the president at our wedding.”

  “He shouldn’t go.”

  “Wrong,” Keene spoke for the first time since passing through the security check. “He should clean up his own house and still come.”

  David tapped one fingertip on the folder. “We will n
eed solid proof. It will take time to investigate. We only have about four weeks.”

  Rhona shook her head. “You will have to be careful. They have even penetrated NSA. Everything you say can, and will, be used against you.”

  A little tic started under David’s left eye. He glanced upwards and then back at his visitors.

  Rhona smiled. “No one is recording this meeting.”

  “Yes, they are,” David responded.

  “No, not this time.” Rhona shook her head. “You know we can reach into the White House.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a sour expression.

  All three looked around, startled, when the door opened. They rose to their feet as the president walked in.

  “Good afternoon,” he said. “Please be seated. The Secret Service tells me the recorders in this room have malfunctioned.”

  “It’s temporary,” Rhona said inanely as she sat. She still wasn’t used to dealing with heads of state.

  “You must be Keene.” President Leek stepped close and held out his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is mine,” Keene said, gripping the offered hand firmly.

  The president sat on a chair. “I only have a few minutes. Tell me what is so important you are keeping the Secret Service out of the loop.”

  “Temporarily out of the loop,” Rhona said while she reached over and tapped the folder sitting in front of David. “We’ll let you alert the Secret Service. We suggest you start with Tao Gilmore, Martin McMillian, Robin Shrivastava, and Roman Cummings.”

  “Why?”

  “There is a plot to kill you at our wedding and blame it on the Abantu. The next stage is to kill all the Abantu.”

  The president raised both eyebrows. “You have names, places and conversation transcripts, I presume?”

  “We do,” Rhona replied.

  “Humph.” The president leaned back and gestured at the folder. “Are Breneman, Trevino, Parker and Westenskow in there?”

  “They are,” Rhona replied.

  “I wasn’t born yesterday,” President Leek replied. “There are always plots around people in power and successful people have to keep an ear to the ground. I had hoped it wouldn’t go this far.”