kittens: Bingo.
PART SEVENTY-SEVEN
July 12, 1947, 17:30 hours
Eagle Rock Military Base
Lieutenant Spade walked in step with Major Cavitt, staring at the double doors ahead. He was facing what appeared to be a relatively small building, tucked away in a corner of the base. The base was huge, and there were several similar buildings, many of which appeared largely abandoned, and most of which were used for storage. The only indication that this particular building didn’t fit that profile were the two guards outside the doors, both equipped with tranquilizer rifles. He’d never paid much attention to any of these unused buildings. Perhaps he should start.
When they reached the doors, Spade and Cavitt both presented their passes to one of the guards, who checked them against a list of personnel allowed inside and waved them on. “Security is very tight,” Cavitt said, as they walked through the double doors. “This operation is so covert that it doesn’t even have a name. This,” he continued, gesturing back toward the doors they had just passed, “is the first of two major checkpoints. The second is located at the entrance to the basement. No one, not even a Brigadier General, will be allowed through unless they have proper clearance.”
Spade nodded wordlessly, looking down the long, perfectly normal looking hallway that loomed ahead. “What’s on the ground floor?”
“Offices. Quarters for the military staff. The mess hall. A recreation room. This section has been transformed into a miniature, stand-alone base.”
And no expense has been spared, Spade thought, as they passed the aforementioned recreation room, complete with a brand new pool table, ping pong table, several tables for card playing, and other assorted amenities. Most soldiers would die for a rec room like that. Spade had the uncomfortable feeling that it was little more than a gilded cage.
“It is important that the ground floor look perfectly normal, even to other soldiers on the base,” Cavitt was saying. “Anyone visiting, making deliveries, and so forth should have no reason to suspect what’s at the basement level.”
“Which is?”
Cavitt stopped walking and turned to look at him. “The fruits of your labors…Lieutenant,” he added, extending his hand. “General Ramey signed the papers only an hour ago. Congratulations, Lieutenant Spade, on a second, well-deserved promotion. Your assistance proved invaluable to apprehending these dangerous creatures. Keep up the good work, and I promise you’ll be rewarded further.”
Spade swallowed, staring at the proffered hand for a longer period of time than etiquette allowed before accepting the handshake. He felt neither valuable nor rewarded; sick to his stomach was a more accurate description. If he weren’t so determined to undo what he had done, he would have resigned his commission right then and there.
“Thank you, sir,” Spade said, managing what he hoped was a pleased smile. “I certainly will keep up the good work.” Even if it’s not what you’re expecting.
“I’m sure you will,” Cavitt beamed, resuming the hike down the hall. “You know, I had my doubts about you. Turns out I was wrong. I’m not wrong very often, but it was nice to be wrong this time.”
Asshole, Spade thought sourly. The problem was, Cavitt hadn’t been wrong, and that was mighty annoying.
They had reached the end of the interminably long hallway. Cavitt headed through another set of double doors and down four flights of stairs, Spade trailing behind. At the bottom of the stairs were another set of double doors, this one more heavily guarded than the first. Both Spade and Cavitt not only had to show their passes and have their photographs checked, they also had to answer personal questions before they were allowed to pass.
“Good thing I remembered my brother’s middle name,” Spade muttered as they were ushered past the doors.
“We added the personal questions after Corporal Darron was attacked,” Cavitt said. “Those things can look like anybody, so we must take the most stringent precautions.”
They had emerged at the end of yet another long narrow hallway. “The basement is naturally more secure, so the holding area and medical facilities are down here,” Cavitt continued. “This used to be a medical facility, so it was relatively easy to upgrade in short order.”
Spade’s stomach tightened as they passed several shorter hallways and rows of tiled rooms. What kind of medical facility would be in a basement? He’d heard tales of victims of atomic testing being carefully hidden from public knowledge in secret medical facilities, tales the Army always denied. He’d always dismissed them as bunk, but now he found he couldn’t. It would have been easy to hide such victims in an underground facility like this one, just like they were hiding the aliens.
Cavitt marched cheerfully along, oblivious to Spade’s mood. “We’ve been in a bit of a holding pattern for the past couple of days. Thanks to you, we were successful much more quickly than I had hoped, so we had to rush in the equipment and supplies. Now that the renovations are nearly complete and we’ve captured both of the aliens, our work can finally begin.”
“Both aliens.” Spade shot a sideways look at Cavitt. Spade had said nothing about the other alien, or about the curiously absent Private Johnson, whom no one had see hide nor hair of. He had cajoled Cavitt’s agreeable secretary into looking up each and every Private Johnson on the base under the guise of looking for a long lost friend; none of their photos matched the man he had seen last night. Personnel transferred in and out all the time, though, so that didn’t prove Johnson was an alien. Still, if he wasn’t an alien, why hadn’t he come forward? And if he was an alien, why had he shot both of the others?
“Did you ever find out why the lights went out?” Spade asked, wondering how much Cavitt had discovered about what had really happened.
“No,” Cavitt answered, “but we did discover there was nothing wrong with our generators. They were still operating; for some reason, their power output was being blocked. It’s a good thing it stopped when it did—much longer, and the generators may have exploded. Ah…here we are.”
Cavitt ushered Spade down a side hallway bristling with guards all equipped with tranquilizer rifles, through a door and up a small flight of stairs into a small room, one entire wall of which was made of windows. Walking eagerly toward the windows, he gestured to Spade, who followed more slowly.
It was some kind of observation room, looking down on what appeared to be an old operating room, dingy looking with its gray tile. Two figures were stretched out on two tables, one short and gray, one human, both strapped down, both stark naked. Various white clad medical personnel clustered around them, their faces hidden by surgical masks, busy taking various samples from the bodies judging from the needles and knives flashing in the glare of the bright lights overhead. Spade looked away, his stomach turning.
“They will have to work quickly,” Cavitt was saying, indicating the medical personnel below. “Anything taken from the bodies, blood, tissue samples, bone samples”—Spade blanched—“..disintegrates within hours, and we never know how many hours. We’ve had them turn to dust in little over an hour, or last more than thirty. Terribly inconvenient,” he added darkly. “We have to keep coming back for more samples.”
Cavitt stared eagerly down at the disgusting scene below with an air of triumph and satisfaction that made Spade’s hands ball into fists of their own accord. He leaned those fists on the windowsill, staring through the window as though he were watching when he was really staring at one of the floor tiles. He couldn’t bear to watch, either the goings on in the room below or Cavitt’s gloating. Even if someone were convinced that the aliens were dangerous, they still had no business taking pleasure in their torture. That wasn’t standing by the flag—that was just plain sick.
“We won’t be able to wake them, of course,” Cavitt continued. “Pity, that. I should have liked a chance to interrogate them, but they’re simply too dangerous to have conscious.”
“Then…what are you going to do with them, sir?” Spade asked. He’d been counting on Cavitt not being able to resist waking the aliens; he was fairly certain there world be no way to hold them if they were conscious.
“We’ll keep them alive and sedated as long as we can,” Cavitt said matter-of-factly. “Hopefully we’ll be able to get a good long while out of them using tube feedings before they die. We’ll have to be prepared to conduct autopsies immediately, of course.”
Spade could feel bile rising in this throat. What was he going to do now? How could he possibly help them escape when they were in this condition?
“Now for the best part,” Cavitt continued. “I’m sure you’ll want to be a part of the first experiments on extraterrestrial life forms ever performed on this planet. It’s an honor I’ve extended to only a chosen few….and an honor you have earned twice over,” he added, as Spade winced inwardly. “As of 1900 hours, you will be assigned to this operation. Your responsibility will be the guarding of this compound, and the oversight of the men who carry out that task. Congratulations, Lieutenant!”
Cavitt saluted, smiling broadly. Spade returned the salute, trying, and failing, to also return the smile. This is what you wanted, he reminded himself sternly. He was determined to free the aliens and bring down Cavitt, not necessarily in that order. The first task had just gotten harder, but it wasn’t over yet. They’re not dead yet, Spade thought grimly. This won’t be over until they’re dead.
Another soldier appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Major? You have a visitor.”
The soldier stepped aside for the man who followed him, climbing the stairs to the observation room with an easy, loping stride. He was tall, tanned, and handsome; his dark hair matched the dark sunglasses he wore. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to just beneath his elbows, and he carried his uniform jacket casually over his arm, his hat in his hand. He exuded an aura of easy confidence, and his arrival produced an interesting reaction in Major Cavitt. Cavitt had stiffened, his hands had twitching into something suspiciously close to fists. The tension was so abrupt and so palpable that Spade shot a questioning glance at the announcing soldier, who shrugged and left the room.
“Sheridan!” the newcomer said easily, ignoring Cavitt’s aggressive demeanor and holding out his hand. “Nice to see you again!”
“It’s Major, actually,” Cavitt said frostily, ignoring the hand.
“Really?” The man retracted his hand with the air of one who had expected it to be rejected. “That is news! Congratulations! Oh, and it’s ‘Doctor’, actually. But you already knew that.”
The doctor broke off, staring at the windows behind them. Brushing past both Cavitt and Spade, he walked to the window and stood gazing down at the scene below, mesmerized.
“Would you look at that!” he breathed. “Incredible!”
“May I ask exactly what you’re doing here?” Cavitt said caustically.
The doctor turned, surprised. “Why, I’m here at your request, Sheridan.”
Spade’s eyes flicked from Cavitt to the doctor with interest. Was this the person he had summoned by rescuing that wadded up note from the wastebasket? He hadn’t imagined Cavitt would be on a first-name basis with anyone but his mother.
“What are you talking about?” Cavitt snapped. “I specifically said I didn’t want you here!”
The doctor sighed, and shook his head regretfully. “I admit, I was surprised when I heard you’d changed your mind. But no matter.” He smiled broadly. “I’m the new co-commander of this operation.”
Uh-oh. Spade instinctively took a step backward as the color drained from Cavitt’s face.
“Co-commander?” Cavitt whispered.
“That’s right,” the doctor replied. “So—we’re working together. Again. Who’d have thought?”
“Who indeed?” Cavitt said contemptuously. “Obviously someone wasn’t thinking if they believe for one moment that I will share the greatest moment of my career with anyone, least of all you. These things are mine. I found them. I caught them. They belong to me!”
“I thought you might say that,” the doctor answered. Withdrawing a sheaf of papers from underneath his uniform jacket, he held them out to Cavitt. “General Ramey’s personal orders,” he said, and now his tone was not so casual. “Read’em and weep.”
Cavitt snatched the papers unceremoniously and read them, his face becoming whiter with each passing word. Spade took advantage of the break in the action to study the newcomer. He stood there, watching calmly as Cavitt leafed through the orders and transfer papers, outrage etched on his face more clearly by the second. The folded-over jacket obscured the doctor's rank, but his manner suggested someone pretty high up there. And what did he mean about he and Cavitt working together “again”?
Cavitt finished reading, folded up the orders, and thrust them back in the doctor’s direction. “We’ll see about this,” he snapped.
“Oh, those are for you,” the doctor replied, “and you’re welcome to see about it all you want. I already warned the General you’d be this way. He’s waiting for your phone call. You really should do him the courtesy of not making him wait any longer.”
The doctor’s voice was still calm, but there was an edge to it now. A taunting edge, as though he were daring Cavitt to behave just exactly as he had predicted. He’d done an end run around Cavitt, and the look on Cavitt’s face made it clear he knew that.
“I believe the General may have misinterpreted what’s needed here,” Cavitt began, backpedaling as he realized he’d been trumped. “There is no need for you to replace….”
“I’m not ‘replacing’ anyone,” the doctor interrupted. “You remain the Chief Military Officer, in charge of security, technology, intel, and so forth. I am the Chief Medical Officer. It’s all there in the orders. Honestly, Sheridan, you can read, can’t you?”
“We don’t need a ‘Chief Medical Officer,” Cavitt argued. “I have several doctors here already….”
“Had several doctors, you mean,” the doctor interrupted. “I understand they were flambéed from the inside out.”
“I replaced them….” Cavitt began angrily.
“….with ordinary Army hacks,” the doctor noted, “down there slicing and dicing. It should be obvious even to you that this calls for a certain level of expertise….”
“….which you obviously lack,” Cavitt finished. “You may fancy yourself a ‘doctor’, Daniel, but I know otherwise.”
“You know perfectly well that I’m board-certified in general medicine and neurology, among other specialties,” the doctor retorted. “I’m uniquely qualified for this position.”
“It’s those ‘other specialties’ that worry me,” Cavitt said icily. “And I find it telling you chose not to name them.”
The doctor smiled abruptly. “But that’s why I’m here. General Ramey wants a—how shall I put it?—a different type of approach to the one you’re currently using. A more.....balanced approach. So—in accordance with his wishes, I’ve dismissed your hacks, and assembled a team of the finest minds in the country. They won’t actually be stationed here, of course, given that it’s such an eclectic collection of people, both military and civilian, but they will be visiting, and I will be consulting with all of them regularly. Of course I wouldn’t expect you to know who to hire, given that you’re not a doctor.”
“You....dismissed!….” Cavitt was so angry he could barely speak. “We are in the midst of very delicate and time-sensitive experiments! You had no right to….”
“On the contrary. I had every right,” the doctor answered, all traces of geniality gone from his voice. “I am the Chief Medical Officer now, and I will make all the medical decisions from here on out.”
Cavitt finally snapped. “I cannot believe that Ramey would be so stupid as to put you, of all people, in charge of so much as mopping floors!” he raged, his face moving swiftly from white to purple. “If you think for one minute that I will stand by and let you make a mess of the most important event to ever occur in this country, never mind on this planet, then…”
The doctor sighed and plopped into a nearby chair. “Is this tirade going to take long, Sher? Because I had a long flight, and I’m beat.”
Cavitt stopped. Spade could see the vein in his left temple throbbing.
“I am well aware that, for you, the military was merely a way to bankroll your tuition,” Cavitt said, disdain dripping from his voice. “I regret to inform you that, contrary to what you seem to be thinking, this is a military operation. That means that you do not sit in the presence of a superior officer unless invited to so, and for the love of God, stop referring to me by my first name!.”
The doctor’s eyebrows rose. “ ‘Superior’ officer? Well, I suppose we haven’t kept up with each other the way we should have.” He stood up and unfolded his uniform jacket, shrugging it on, buttoning it. The lapels were adorned with golden oak leaves.
Spade’s eyes widened. So. The doctor was a Major. Just like Cavitt.
Cavitt’s complexion had turned white again. “They made you a Major?” he whispered, as though he just couldn’t believe it.
“Two years ago, actually,” the doctor replied, donning his hat.
Cavitt said nothing. His throat did not appear to be working.
“I have people unpacking my things upstairs,” the doctor continued. “My office is down the hall from yours. I plan on getting started tonight.” He cast one last, longing look at the observation room window and headed down the little staircase that led to the hallway.
“Oh, and one more thing,” the doctor added, pausing about halfway down. “Congratulations on your promotion, Sher. Nice to know you finally caught up with me. Even if it did take you two years.”
And then the doctor was out the door with a smile and a wave, and Cavitt was left staring mutely after him. Spade waited in uncomfortable silence for Cavitt to regain his senses. After a full minute passed, he tried an experimental cough. Nothing.
“Major?”
“What?” Cavitt snapped back to reality, staring at Spade as though he had forgotten he was there. And he probably had, consumed as he was with the man who had just walked out that door.
“Who was that?” Spade asked.
Cavitt’s jaw tightened. “Get your things, Lieutenant,” he said, ignoring Spade’s question. “If you need me, I’ll be in my office upstairs making a few hundred phone calls. I have a lot of favors due me, and I’m about to call them all in.”
Cavitt marched out, leaving Spade alone in the darkened observation room. Spade watched him leave, wishing he could be a fly on the wall and overhear the power plays that would inevitably go down, wondering if this new card in play would mean good news or bad for the aliens. General Ramey was either very wise or very foolish to put those two pit bulls in the same pen.
Before he left, Spade risked another look down into the room below. The doctor had been as good as his word; the personnel below were indeed packing up and leaving. Curious as to where the entrance to the alien’s “cell” was located, he skipped down the stairs and found it, just one door down from the door to the observation room. The medical personnel filed by, pulling off caps and masks, obviously disgruntled at having been dismissed. And then his eyes fell on one man’s face, still obscured by a surgical mask, and he froze.
The man walked past. Spade came to his senses and bolted, reaching the man just as he neared the main hallway, planting himself squarely in front of him and staring into his eyes, the only part of his face visible between the mask and cap.
The man stopped, startled. He returned Spade’s stare, and then his eyes widened in…what? Shock? Recognition? Without a word, Spade reached up and ripped off the man’s mask.
“What are you doing?” the man spluttered, backing away.
“I…I….I’m sorry,” Spade said lamely, feeling the color rise to his cheeks. “I thought I recognized you.”
“You know you could have just said ‘hello’,” the man retorted, snatching his mask from Spade’s hand. “Or tried the old, “Do I know you from somewhere?” line. Or is attacking people typical for you?”
“Sorry,” Spade mumbled. “I was wrong.”
“Hmpf,” the man muttered, brushing past Spade and stalking away. Spade watched him go, his embarrassment warring with the uneasiness stirring in the pit of his stomach. He looked around for other medical personnel, but they had all gone on ahead. There was no one around to verify the man’s identity.
Maybe I was wrong, Spade thought. He will still weary from last night, and racked with guilt. Maybe he was seeing things. Was it even possible for them to change that fast? He really didn’t know.
Just for a moment there, Spade had been certain he'd seen a familiar face staring at him over that mask. He sincerely hoped he was wrong. Because if he wasn’t, the mysterious “Private Johnson” was not only an alien, but had just walked away after gaining access to both prisoners despite all of Major Cavitt’s security precautions.
************************************************************************************************************
“Where have you been?” Amar demanded blearily, struggling, and failing, to pull himself into a sitting position. “You’ve been gone for ages!”
“You’re awake,” Malik said approvingly, closing the door behind him. “I didn’t even realize you knew I was gone. I was at the base—you know yourself how difficult it was to get in, and it’s even more difficult now. It takes awhile.”
“Did you find him? Do they have him?”
“Yes,” Malik said quietly, “they do.”
Amar was silent for a moment. He had been drifting in and out of consciousness all afternoon as the humans’ sedative began to wear off. They had been hiding in this abandoned farmhouse ever since last night, waiting for Amar to recover so they could return to Copper Summit. This was the first time Amar had been able to do much more than grunt.
“Tell me again,” Amar said thickly, “why you had to shoot me.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Amar!” Malik said irritably. “I’ve already explained that! There was a human there! It would have looked suspicious if I’d used the weapon on only one of you.”
“But why didn’t you shoot the human?”
“You don’t think they would have noticed a human shooting another human?” Malik asked angrily. “Do you really want them to figure out there are more aliens out there? I sent him off to find help. I figured I could get you both out of there while he was gone.”
“But you didn’t,” Amar said accusingly. “And now the humans have both of them.”
“A thousand pardons,” Malik said sarcastically. “I removed you first, and it’s a good thing I did. When I went back for Jaddo, he was gone. If I’d left you there, the humans would have you now, and from what I’ve seen, you wouldn’t be having a very good time.”
“Why not? They’re sound asleep, aren’t they?” The bitterness in Amar’s voice was so thick you could cut it with a knife. He still found it annoying that the Warders did not know their fate.
Malik shot him a scathing look. “Would you like a rundown of exactly what the humans are doing to them?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Amar said flatly. “They can’t keep them out forever without killing them. And once they wake up, they’ll never be able to hold them. But we can.” He paused, smiling broadly. “It worked, Malik! The device worked!”
“Oh, yes, it worked beautifully,” Malik said with mock admiration. “It created such a large dampening field that it nearly caused a backwash of power in the humans’ own generators. Do you realize you nearly blew us all up?”
“So it needs a little tweaking,” Amar sulked. “It still worked.”
“But it’s not covert,” Malik argued. “Don’t you think humans will notice if we keep turning that thing on, and everything they have that uses power doesn’t work? At this point, we can’t hope to hold the Warders in Copper Summit. The dampening field would knock out a huge area of the town.”
“I’ll work on it,” Amar said angrily. “Just as soon as I can. It just needs a little fine tuning.”
“Why did you have that thing on, anyway?” Malik demanded, plopping down on the ground beside Amar. “You were supposed to follow him, not attack him inside the vent.”
Amar twisted into a different position. He was very weak, so the effort was costly, and he slumped against the wall when he was finished. “He found me,” he said shortly. “He attacked me. I had no choice.”
“You allowed yourself to be seen?” Malik asked incredulously. “Honestly, Amar, that’s twice in two days! You’re losing your touch.”
“There isn’t much room inside those vents,” Amar said testily. “It’s not my fault there aren’t many places to hide!”
“And what was he saying about you being false?” Malik fixed a hard stare on his companion. “What did he mean?”
“How should I know?” Amar said sullenly. “He’s lying, of course. You know perfectly well we never take each other’s shapes. He was just trying to rile you.”
Malik knelt down in front of Amar and looked him in the eye. “Tell me that you did not take Brivari’s shape to lure him out.”
Amar was silent, his mouth set in a hard line. The two stared at each other for several long seconds until finally, Amar spoke.
“I was not false.”
Malik held Amar’s gaze a moment longer before backing away. “Good. Because if I ever find out otherwise, I’ll turn on you in a heartbeat.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Amar said, with more than a little asperity. “We may need to steal a shape at some point, you know. These are not ordinary Covari. They wouldn’t hesitate to use their “special abilities” against us; why should we hesitate to use every weapon in our arsenal against them?”
“Being false is not a weapon, Amar,” Malik said firmly. “It is a cowardly act against our own people.”
“So you think the Warders wouldn’t ever be false with us?”
Malik hesitated. After a moment, he shook his head.
Amar snorted. “You give them more credit than they deserve.”
Ignoring him, Malik rose to his feet.
“Where are you going?” Amar asked.
“Out,” Malik replied. “From the looks of you, we’ll be here for awhile. We need food, and I’d like to learn as much as I can about where they’re holding the Warders before we go back.”
Amar muttered something grumpy and incomprehensible. Malik headed for the door.
“Malik? Wait.”
“What?”
“There’s one thing I can’t figure out,” Amar said slowly. “How did you know it was Jaddo?”
Malik tensed. “What do you mean?”
“We knew Brivari had been captured,” Amar said, struggling to think, something he had trouble with on the best of days. “We knew two died, but we didn’t know which two. I didn’t know who was still free until I met him in the vent, and I never told you it was Jaddo. I know he was shifting while we were fighting, but that’s too fast to see. How did you know it was Jaddo, and not one of the other two?”
“I…I did manage to see enough of him while the two of you were fighting,” Malik said. “Just barely.”
“Really?” He cast beady eyes on Malik. “I didn’t think you knew Jaddo. How would you know what he looked like?”
“I saw him once,” Malik said shortly, “a long time ago. What difference does it make?”
Amar considered a moment, and then said, “None, I suppose. I was just wondering, that’s all.”
Amar slumped down on the ground again, exhausted from all the chatter. Malik walked out of the house, closing the door behind him, leaning against the outside wall and breathing heavily.
That was close, he thought nervously. Too close.
************************************************************************************************************
10:00 p.m.
Proctor residence
“So it’s always the same side of the moon that’s facing us?” Dee asked, peering through the telescope’s eyepiece.
“Yep,” Anthony answered. “The other side is always in darkness. And we can’t always see the side facing us, especially when the moon is lined up between the Earth and the Sun. Then the moon seems to disappear—that’s called a 'new moon'."
Dee thought of the night the Army had come, and how dark it had been. That had been a “new moon”, and it couldn’t have picked a better night to “disappear.”
Dee and Anthony were sitting on the Proctor’s back porch steps with Anthony’s telescope, as Anthony showed her the finer points of the quarter moon glowing in the sky above them. She had been pleasantly surprised to find Anthony on her doorstep after dinner, released from his punishment and toting his telescope. The night was still warm, as usual, the crickets were chirping, and Dee felt more peaceful than she had in a long time.
“We’ll go there someday,” Anthony was saying, looking up at the moon. “The moon is the closest thing to us, so when we manage to build a ship that can leave Earth’s gravity, that’ll be the first place we stop.”
Dee smiled. “You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”
“I love to wonder what’s out there,” Anthony said. “I always have. And now….well, let’s just say that now I’m wondering all the more.”
Dee cast a sideways look at him without looking up. She had to admit, it was exciting to know there were other worlds, even if they did have fighting and wars just like Earth. Her sheer awe of the fact that there was life out there had not dimmed in spite of everything that had happened.
“You must wonder too,” Anthony was saying. “That’s why you have your star collection up in your room.”
Dee lifted her head from the telescope. She’d shown Anthony her collection of “stars” earlier, shyly, afraid he would laugh. Thankfully he hadn’t, nor had he disputed her title of ‘star collection’. But he hadn’t needed to, because she knew better now; they weren’t stars, just meteors. That particular bit of romance had been squashed by recent events.
“I shouldn’t call them ‘stars’ anymore,” Dee said glumly. “I should call them what Mac always told me they were—meteorites, bits of rock that fall from space.” As she spoke, she cast a sad look in the direction of Mac’s still empty house.
“But people call those meteorites ‘falling stars’,” Anthony pointed out. “You’re not the only one who likes to think of them as stars. And who knows? Maybe, at some point in the past, that little bit of rock was part of a star.”
“Maybe,” Dee said doubtfully.
“So what did you think of Mac’s radio interview?” Anthony asked casually.
Dee whipped her head around to stare at him. “What interview?”
“Mac gave another interview at KGFL this afternoon,” Anthony said. “Didn’t you hear?”
“We were gone all day,” Dee said excitedly. “What did he say? The Army’s been holding him—no one’s seen him since Monday. Is he coming home?”
“I don’t know,” Anthony said. “Mr. Joyce—he was the one who did the first interview, too—said that the Army escorted Mac down there, and took him away afterwards.”
Dee swallowed hard. That did not sound good. “So…what did he say?”
“He took it all back. Said he’d just found some bits of an old weather balloon, and that it had been on his ranch since last month.”
Dee was silent for a moment. It was an outright lie, of course. No doubt the Army’s doing, since it matched the Army’s story perfectly. And perhaps it was better this way, given the reactions she had seen around town. Perhaps it was better if people didn’t know.
“Mr. Joyce got pretty mad,” Anthony went on. “He asked Mac why this new story was so different from the other one, and Mac wouldn’t say. And then he said something about little green men, and Mac said, “Well, they’re not green.”
No, they’re not, Dee thought. But now everyone would think Mac was crazy because he’d flip-flopped. Either that, or he’d get in even more trouble for making even that one little comment.
“I’m sure they made him do it,” Anthony continued. “That’s probably why they were keeping him—I’ll bet he had to agree to take it all back before they’d let him go. Mr. Joyce made sure everyone knew the Army had brought Mac there, and that they’d been holding him for the past week. People will fill in the blanks,” he added, as though reading her mind.
Dee stood up and walked across the yard, staring at the Brazel’s empty house. For the past several days, one thought, one horrible thought, had dogged her mind, waking or sleeping, and it was this: If she hadn’t dragged Mac out to the ranch the night after the storm, he wouldn’t have found the ship fragments. If he hadn’t found the ship fragments, he wouldn’t have brought them to Sheriff Wilcox, who wouldn’t have called the Army, who wouldn’t have found the ship. Despite her father’s assurances that none of this was her fault, every awful thing that had happened recently could be traced back to one person—herself.
“This is all my fault,” she whispered.
“What?” Anthony said behind her.
Dee turned to look at Anthony, who was still sitting on the porch step, his hand on the telescope, looking at her quizzically. She still hadn’t told him anything. It was too dangerous to tell him anything. But her guilt was so strong, and her need to confess, to confide in someone who wasn’t just going to automatically defend her like her parents would, was overwhelming.
“This is all my fault,” she said repeated miserably.
“What’s your fault?” Anthony asked, surprised.
“Everything. Mac getting in trouble, then having to lie. And….everything else,” she finished lamely. “If I hadn’t seen what I wasn’t supposed to, none of this would have happened.”
If Anthony had noticed that Dee had just branded Mac’s new weather balloon story a lie, he gave no sign of it. “You mean if you hadn’t seen what no one expected to happen in the first place, don’t you?”.
“It doesn’t matter,” Dee said in an anguished tone, not caring what she said now. “I led Mac there. He wouldn’t have gone there if it hadn’t been for me. If I’d just minded my own business, everything would have been fine.”
“Maybe,” Anthony said slowly. “Or maybe it would have been worse.”
“Don’t try to make me feel better," Dee said crossly. "I’m not in the mood."
“I’m not trying to make you feel better,” Anthony said calmly, unperturbed by her temper. “I’m just saying that you don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t seen…whatever it was you saw,” he finished diplomatically. “Things might have been better, or they might have been much worse. There’s no way to know for sure.”
“Mac wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for me,” Dee insisted. “The ranch isn’t using that pasture this year—he wouldn’t have gone out there.”
“No,” Anthony agreed, “but he might have done something, or said something, that made someone else go out there, and then what would have happened?”
Dee considered this for a moment. If she and Mac hadn’t removed the few ship pieces they’d found, someone else might have found them. That someone would probably have handed them over to the authorities right away. Urza and the others might have been discovered several days sooner.
Or—now that she was warming to the subject, she may as well continue—if she hadn’t helped Urza that first day, showing him how to talk, how to dress, and how to drive, they might have attracted suspicion. They might have been caught trying to obtain food, or they might have exposed themselves some other way. There was really no way to tell what would had happened had she not been looking out the window that fateful night.
“I suppose things could have been worse,” Dee said slowly. “But we’ll never know for sure.”
“No, we won’t,” Anthony agreed. “There are too many people involved, and too many different choices they could have made. So since we can’t know for sure, I prefer to think it was a good thing you did….whatever you did.”
Dee smiled in spite of herself. “You’re what my Mama calls a 'glass is half full' person.”
“You know, I never understood that glass business,” Anthony said, “because when a glass is half full, it’s also half empty.”
“That’s the whole point,” Dee teased. “The glass is the same either way; it’s how you look at it that matters.”
“Exactly. Which is why I think you should look at it like what you did was a good thing, in the long run.”
Dee felt a lump growing in her throat. She felt better now, in spite of herself, and it was all because of Anthony. He had kept his word about not asking her questions and just helped, whether by getting rid of nosy people, or just assuring her that she wasn’t as awful as she felt. He deserved something in return.
“Mac was right. They’re not green,” she said suddenly.
Anthony looked up from the eyepiece. “What?”
“They’re gray,” Dee said quietly, speaking quickly so she wouldn’t have time to think about it and change her mind.
Anthony’s eyes gleamed for a moment, like they had the night before when she had told him about all of Jupiter’s moons, but he said nothing. He just smiled at her, and she smiled back, wrestling with how she felt about her first time ever voluntarily telling someone about the aliens. It felt good to tell, she decided. It felt good to share it with someone she thought would understand. More like knew would understand. She knew deep down in her bones that Anthony was okay.
The sound of a ringing telephone drifted from the house. A moment later, Dee’s father appeared at the door of the back porch. “Anthony? That was your mother. She wants you home now.”
“Okay,” Anthony said, as her father disappeared back inside the house. “Want to do this again tomorrow night?” he asked, opening the carrying case for his telescope and packing it up, acting like she hadn’t just confirmed the existence of aliens on the planet.
“Are we always going to look at the moon, or do you know a thing or two about stars?”
“Stars?” Anthony asked in surprise. “I know every constellation there is to know.
“Every constellation?”
“Okay, maybe not every constellation,” Anthony allowed. “But I know an awful lot of them. Star tours begin tomorrow promptly at 9:15.”
"I'll be here," Dee promised.
“G’night,” Anthony called, walking out of the backyard, his telescope case banging against his leg.
Dee wandered inside and found her father reading the newspaper in the living room. “Who was on the phone?” she asked, secretly hoping someone had heard something else about Mac.
“Mrs. Evans.”
“Who?”
“Mrs. Evans,” her father repeated. “Anthony’s mother. She asked me to send him home.”
Evans, Dee thought, heading out to the kitchen for a drink. She’d never asked Anthony what his last name was. She smiled to herself as she pulled a glass out of the cupboard, putting it all together.
Anthony Maximillion Evans. That was an even bigger mouthful than she’d thought. No wonder he didn’t like his middle name.
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Next week......
Book 2 comes to an end as the identity of the new Doctor is revealed (you'll recognize the name
), and the rogues find the pods.I'll post the last part next Sunday.
)