Minanda: You're right--any number of things could have (and often do) go wrong with children of royalty. Brivari's making rosy assumptions, and Jaddo's right: At this point, the baby has no bearing on anything.
PART SIXTY
July 10, 1947, 3:30 p.m.
Proctor residence
Jaddo flew inside the open upstairs window and landed on the bed. Carefully setting down what he was carrying, he fluttered to the floor and shot ceilingward into human shape. He had spent the day alternately resting, scouting the area immediately around the base, and pondering his decision earlier that morning. He was relieved to find himself feeling stronger. There might be hope for tonight after all.
Moving the object on the bed closer, Jaddo held his hand over it, preparing to send his energy through the symbol inscribed on the top. But just before he unleashed it, he hesitated.
Was he doing the right thing? Brivari likely did have a reason for ordering communication silence. But after listening to him this morning, Jaddo was no longer willing to assume that reason was valid. And since he wouldn’t tell him what the reason was, there was no way to evaluate its validity. Brivari was taking the fall of their world so personally that he was acting irrationally.
So now it falls to me to do what must be done, Jaddo thought wearily. There were only two of them left, and there might be less than that after tonight. Safeguards must be put in place.
Jaddo extended a more confident hand over the communicator. The symbol on top began to glow, accompanied by a resonating hum.
And then he jumped, startled, as a voice from behind said, “What is that?”
******************************************************
Eagle Rock Military Base
Yvonne White paced the small room in which she found herself a prisoner, arms folded across her chest, eyes flashing. She had awoken here yesterday with a throat that felt like cotton and a head that hurt like hell. Judging by the two MP’s stationed outside her door, she was in a military facility, but she had no idea where. She’d seen no one except for the MP’s and a doctor she’d never seen before, with whom she had not been terribly cooperative. He had pronounced her exploding head to be a mild concussion, and remained impassive when she demanded to know where she was and why she was being held against her will.
Yvonne continued to pace like a caged animal, back and forth, back and forth. She was growing madder by the minute, and increasingly desperate. The room in which she was held had a small bathroom attached, so there was no reason for them to let her out, even for a few minutes. The room’s only door had a window which was covered, preventing her from seeing anything. Wherever she was, it sounded deserted. Yvonne was used to the constant patter of footsteps and the continual hum of activity that permeated Army bases. There was never much privacy anywhere on a base, but she had rarely heard footsteps or voices outside her door except three times a day at mealtime. The doctor’s arrival at an odd hour at excited her, but nothing had come of it—he left her just as ignorant as he had found her. The silence was oppressive, the boredom intense.
Yvonne was seriously considering something more drastic, such as feigning illness, when she heard footsteps approaching. It was probably the doctor again, but this time she had no intention of letting him leave without learning something. She pressed her ear to the door, straining to her the slightest sound.
A conversation in low voices was being held outside. She heard the rattle of keys. Whoever it was, they were coming in. With a flash of inspiration, Yvonne flattened herself against the wall near where the door opened. If she timed it right, she should swing around and startle whoever was coming in. She couldn’t fend them off, of course, but she might make it far enough outside to get at least a glimpse of where she was.
She held her breath and waited as keys chinked in the lock. The doorknob turned…the door started to open…Now! Yvonne swung around forcefully, only to come nose to nose with the last person she expected to see.
“Lieutenant White. So glad to see you up and about.”
Captain Cavitt?
Thunderstruck, Yvonne swung back toward the wall, hitting her head against it in the process. Wincing, she raised a hand to her still tender head.
“I’m terribly sorry about…that,” Cavitt said as he entered, with an airy wave toward her sore head. The door closed behind him, reminding her that she hadn’t managed to see a thing beyond it. “But absolute secrecy was required, and you were a bit….ah….exuberant in your resistance. Did you know you broke that Private’s nose? You required quite a bit more persuasion than I thought you would.” This last was delivered with a smile Yvonne did not find the least bit inviting.
“Where am I?” she demanded, trying, and failing, to keep her voice from shaking. She was too shocked at the moment to feel much of anything. Later she would be certain to summon a large helping of indignation. Later, when her mind had stopped spinning at the thought of betrayal by one of her own.
“ ‘Here’ is your latest posting,” Cavitt replied pleasantly, “undoubtedly the most important posting of your career. Of anyone’s career. Lieutenant, you have a unique opportunity at your disposal. You have a chance to serve your country in a way no one else ever has. You will be on the front lines of the most groundbreaking experiments ever done in human history. You should be proud to have been chosen for this exceptionally important, covert mission.”
Yvonne listened to this oratory in utter confusion. What in the name of God was Cavitt going on about? She was supposed to be in London. Did this mean Cavitt was also in London? What would he be doing in London when he had an alien ship to play with?
“I was on my way to London, Captain,” she said carefully, seriously wondering if Cavitt was playing with a full deck. “I had been reassigned to London. Is this London?”
Cavitt shook his head regretfully. “No, this is not London. I’m afraid some subterfuge was necessary so that people would not go looking for you. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you are, indeed, in London.”
“If I’m not in London, then….where am I?”
“All in good time, Lieutenant. I have your first assignment,” he continued casually, as though kidnapping people were a daily occurrence. “The MP’s outside will take you to where you’ll be working. There are a number of supplies that need to be stocked, rooms that need to be cleaned, that sort of thing. Place hasn’t been used in a while. At least not for this. But then I suppose there isn’t any place in the world that’s been used for this, is there?” he said, chuckling at his private joke. Yvonne just stared at him.
“Oh, and the MP’s will also show you to your new quarters. Your belongings have been sent there. I left instructions on how to proceed should you require anything else. That will be all for now.” He turned to leave.
Yvonne watched him heading for the door, and the indignation she had intended to save for later rushed over her like a tidal wave. That would be all for now? Like hell it would.
“I have a right to know where I’m posted, Captain!” she protested, placing herself squarely between Cavitt and the door. “And you have no right to kidnap me and hold me prisoner!”
Cavitt’s eyebrows rose. “ ‘Kidnap’? How dramatic. You have merely been reassigned, and kept here until the doctor felt you had recovered sufficiently to perform your duties. For your own safety, of course. Stop blowing things out of proportion. Now step aside.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, sir.”
“That’s insubordination, Lieutenant. I’d watch my step if I were you.”
“I’m being held prisoner by one of my own” Yvonne retorted. “You mean things could get worse?”
“After your unfortunate meeting with that reporter, I would say yes, things could get worse."
Yvonne’s breath caught in her throat. She could feel the hard door against her back and was suddenly grateful for something to lean against. “What reporter?”
Cavitt reached into his uniform jacket and withdrew a photograph, handing it to her for her inspection. She didn’t take it, merely stared at it. It had been brilliantly sunny last Tuesday morning, and the sun coming through the window of the restaurant where she had met Betty Osorio illuminated their faces beautifully. “We’re heading for downtown Roswell. That should be far enough away to throw off Cavitt’s goons,” Betty had said. Apparently it hadn’t been far enough away. Not by a long shot.
“Surely you’re not going to tell me this is your evil twin?” Cavitt was saying.
“So I had breakfast with someone,” Yvonne said, desperately grasping for a way out of this. “It’s not illegal to go out for breakfast, Captain.”
“This isn’t just anyone,” Cavitt said, his eyes boring into hers. “This is one Betty Osorio, a reporter from some Texas newspaper and a gargantuan pain in the ass. Whom you met, I might add, mere hours after being sternly warned not to speak to anyone about recent events at this base. You have a short memory, Lieutenant.”
“What makes you think I was talking about…..that?” Yvonne asked, hoping against hope that whoever had taken that beautifully lit photograph hadn’t also been toting a tape recorder. “You have no proof I said anything about…..”
“Oh, spare me!” Cavitt erupted, causing her to back more firmly into the door. “I may be many things, Lieutenant, but stupid isn’t one of them. I have an excellent idea what the two of you were talking about, and it wasn’t hemlines. You do realize this is grounds for a court martial?”
“If you feel that way, then have me arrested,” Yvonne said, anger beginning to replace her initial shock.
“That remains an option,” Cavitt said pointedly. “But my doctors wanted a nurse, and they specifically asked for you. They were impressed with the way you handled yourself under very unusual circumstances, and I couldn’t disagree with that.”
Doctors? This must have something to do with the aliens. Had they killed more of them? Captured one? No, she couldn’t imagine that happening, given what she’d seen so far of alien powers. But if another alien was dead, they would need to move quickly before the body disintegrated, which didn’t square with her being locked up in here. None of this made any sense.
“So I decided to give you another chance,” Cavitt continued. “I’m willing to overlook this....”—he slipped the photograph back into his jacket—“….if you are willing to accept your new assignment gracefully and refrain from any further security breaches. I hadn’t planned on bringing this up until you were settled, but then you do seem to be a bit lacking in grace just now.”
“I don’t even know where my ‘new assignment’ is,” Yvonne said angrily. “This isn’t about my being ‘graceful’, this is about you engaging in kidnapping! Even if I’m charged with a crime, I still have rights, Captain.”
Cavitt shook his head sadly. “Your country has need of you, Lieutenant White. That supercedes any ‘rights’ you think you have. And I think you’ve underestimated the favor I’ve done you. A court martial is not a pleasant process. You’d be marked for life. Not only have I not prosecuted you for your blatant refusal to follow orders, I’ve also kept all of this off your record. You can thank me later.”
Thank him? Even in the fog that currently passed for her mind, Yvonne knew perfectly well that Cavitt’s restraint had nothing to do with altruism. He wanted her for something, and if she were prosecuted, she wouldn’t be available to him. It was that simple. What’s more, he could trot this out and threaten her with it at any time in the future unless she left the military, and maybe even if she did. For a moment Yvonne considered refusing the blackmail and taking her chances with a court martial. But the prison time that would likely accompany a conviction on a subject this important to the Army would not be trivial. And the past two days had shown her what it was like to be locked up.
“Ah, I see the wheels turning,” Cavitt said softly, eyeing her. “I believe we understand each other now, do we not?”
“I understand you’re blackmailing me,” Yvonne said coldly, “but I still don’t understand where I am or what I’m doing here.”
“ ‘Blackmail’? Hardly. I have merely forestalled the unfortunate consequences of your own indiscretion. An indiscretion you committed of your own volition, I might add. You have no one to blame for that but yourself. As for the rest….as I said before, all in good time. That information is on a need to know basis, and right now, you don’t need to know that. The only thing you do need to know is something I can see you’ve already figured out.”
He leaned in closer as Yvonne recoiled, so close their faces were almost touching.
“You belong to me.”
******************************************************
Proctor residence.
Jaddo snatched his hand away from the communicator the way an ordinary person would from a flame. The symbol on top ceased glowing, the hum died away, and he turned to face what had startled him. The human child was standing in the corner looking decidedly sheepish.
<Lurking in other people’s quarters is concerned rude even in human circles, is it not?>
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” she answered, “and I wasn’t exactly ‘lurking’.”
<Then why are you here?> he asked sharply.
“I was looking at those,” she replied, pointing to the two metal containers containing Urza’s and Valeris’s dust, taking no umbrage whatsoever at his temper. “What are they?”
Jaddo hesitated. Undoubtedly she would not be happy to hear what was in those containers. Discussing duty and battle with her was one thing; discussing death was quite another. He had never been good with children. He had been assigned to Rath when Rath was eighteen, and that had suited Jaddo just fine.
Still, the human child was a child in name only; her recent actions on their behalf had proven that. And she had assisted both Urza and Valeris at the end of their lives. She deserved to know.
<That is dust,> he said at length, deciding to go with the simple explanation. <That is what remains of the bodies of my kind after we die.>
She looked from the containers, to him, and back again. “You mean…that’s what’s left of Urza? And Valeris?” He nodded.
“My Uncle James was cremated when he died. Is that what happened to them?”
Jaddo mentally searched the data he had scanned on her language for a definition. < ‘Cremate—to incinerate a corpse’. No, they have not been incinerated. Our bodies merely…collapse.>
“Into…‘dust’?”
<Yes.>
The child looked at the two containers curiously. “Can I look? I won’t get scared, or throw up, or anything,” she said hastily. “I looked at Uncle James’s ashes. I wasn’t supposed to,” she added, with a conspiratorial glance at the door, “but I wanted to know what they looked like, so I sneaked the lid off the urn when no one was looking.”
<Now, why does that not surprise me?> Jaddo said dryly. He sighed. <Very well, then. You may look.>
The child moved at once to the nearest container and removed the lid. She peered inside for a long moment, shifting the container from side to side as she watched the dust swirl within. Then she replaced the lid and inspected the second container.
“You’re right—this looks different from ashes,” she commented, sounding remarkably like the scientist whose remains she currently held. “Do you know which is which?”
<You are holding Valeris’s remains.>
“How can you tell?”
<Look at the bottom of the container, near the base. Brivari inscribed their names there, in our language, of course.>
She found the etching, looking carefully at Valeris’s name, then Urza’s. He knew she was memorizing them. Finally, she turned around. “Why is Brivari so mad at Urza?”
<What makes you think he’s mad at Urza?>
She gave him a pitying, ‘don’t try to fool me’ look. “I heard you this morning. Well, I heard him. He was practically shouting; he would’ve woken up the entire block if they could have heard it.”
Jaddo closed his eyes. Brivari, you idiot, he thought wearily. In his fit of pique, he had obviously forgotten that this child was the one human with whom they needed to be careful about their telepathic speech. <What did you hear?>
“Everything,” she said firmly. “He seems to think Urza is a traitor, that either he, or his Princess, or both are to blame for what happened back on Antar.”
Jaddo blinked. Hearing the name of their planet, even a translation, come out of a human mouth was…unsettling. Of course, it didn’t make sense that Urza would take her there and not tell her its name.
“And he was saying something about not letting Urza have something, something…oh, what did he call it…I don’t remember, but it sounded like a funeral.”
<So—you heard all that just because Brivari wasn’t being quiet? Not eavesdropping, were you?>
“Of course I was,” she responded without so much as a hint of contrition. “I learned a long time ago that if I want to know what’s going on, I have to eavesdrop. Every kid knows that. There are lots of things grown-ups won’t tell us.”
Jaddo raised an eyebrow…and suppressed a smile. He had a particular fondness for those who laid their cards plainly on the table. The Argilian rebels had done that too, which no doubt contributed to his willingness to give them a chance.
“What does Brivari think Urza did?” the child was asking.
Jaddo hesitated, unwilling to elaborate on what was really none of her business. But he was anxious to complete his task before Brivari’s return and well acquainted with the child’s stubbornness; she was unlikely to leave until she received an answer. Besides, if she’d heard their conversation, even only Brivari’s half of it, she already knew most of it already.
<It is not what he did; it is what he did not do,> Jaddo replied, deliberately being vague. <Urza’s Ward—the ‘princess’, as you call her—did something she shouldn’t have, and Urza failed to discover that until it was too late.>
“She fell in love with the bad guy, right?”
<Well…yes,> Jaddo said, nonplussed. Apparently she had heard “everything”.
The child shook her head. “Then there wasn’t anything Urza could have done about it.”
<Why do you say that?>
“Because of my cousin,” the child said, sighing and plopping down on the bed. “See, I have this cousin, Amanda, that I used to love to play with. She was always a lot of fun. But one summer she fell in love with this boy…,”—the child rolled her eyes, as if this was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard—“and her parents got mad and said she couldn’t see him anymore. Fat lot of good that did,” she snorted. “She started seeing him in secret, sneaking out at night, lying to her parents, you name it. Everybody tried to talk to her: Her parents, my parents, the minister, the doctor, some of her teachers. Nothing worked. She was down to her last marble by the end of the summer.”
<Is there a point to this story?>
“There will be if you be quiet and let me finish,” the child answered firmly, as Jaddo raised an eyebrow again. “Amanda ran away from home. Nothing anybody said to her did any good. I think everyone just made it worse by trying so hard.” She paused. “So it doesn’t matter what Urza found out, or didn’t find out. Whatever happened would probably have happened anyway. It might have taken longer, but it would have happened. Boys make you stupid,” she concluded with finality.
Jaddo reflected on this in silence. Despite her youth, the child’s instincts, as usual, were excellent. He had always been of the opinion that romance rendered one idiotic, and Vilandra was a shining example of that axiom. Short of making her a virtual prisoner, which Zan would never have done, she would eventually have found a way to have what she wanted. She always did. It was just that what she wanted didn’t usually have such dire consequences.
“You don’t think Urza was a traitor, do you?”
<No,> Jaddo said, <I don’t. And I have argued his case. For all the good it will do,> he added ruefully.
“You’re not going to let Brivari do whatever it was he was going to do, are you? Or not do whatever it was he wasn’t going to do?”
<I’m afraid I don’t have much choice in the matter. If circumstances were different, I could oppose him. But we still must rescue our Wards; that is my top priority. I must save my strength for that. I don’t have the energy to fight both battles.> And I’m not exactly in Brivari’s good graces at the moment, Jaddo added silently. The last thing he needed to do was squander what little of Brivari’s good will he had left on something as insignificant as dust.
“Well, I won’t let him,” the child said firmly, arms folded across her chest in a perfect imitation of her mother.
Both of Jaddo’s eyebrows rose this time. <You intend to challenge the King’s Warder?>
“I don’t care if he works for God,” the child announced tartly. “I won’t let him hurt Urza.”
<He can’t hurt Urza. Urza’s dead.>
“Then I won’t let him hurt his dust,” she answered stubbornly. “He deserves better.” She gave him a wary look. “Are you going to try and stop me?”
<Goodness, no,> Jaddo replied mildly. <I respect resolve when I see it, however misplaced it may be.> Not to mention the fact that he’d love to see the look on Brivari’s face when this human child challenged his authority. Although lately he’d gotten the impression she already had, on more than one occasion.
“Good,” the child replied approvingly, as though he had made the right choice. “You never told me what that thing does,” she added, pointing to the communicator.
<It is a communication device.>
“Like a radio?”
Jaddo smiled indulgently. His communicator was like one of the humans’ radios the way a grain of sand was like a planet. <In a manner of speaking.>
She pursed her lips. “Should you be turning that thing on? What if someone else hears it?”
Instantly, every nerve in Jaddo’s body was alert. <What do you mean?> he demanded sharply.
“I know that they could find other people’s radio transmissions during the war. I heard my father talking about it,” she said, once again oblivious to his temper. “I was just wondering if someone here could pick up your…uh…radio transmission.”
Jaddo paused, his mind racing. Was this why Brivari had ordered communication silence? But human technology seemed much too primitive to intercept a communicator signal. Did Brivari know otherwise?
“Maybe you shouldn’t be using that,” the child was saying gravely. “Just to be on the safe side.”
Their eyes locked, and for just a moment, Jaddo got the distinct impression that she knew something he didn’t. Something important. Some reason he shouldn’t use the communicator that had nothing to do with weak human technology.
Then the moment passed, and he chastised himself for being so paranoid. He was beginning to sound like Brivari. <I doubt your people would be able to detect my communication device.>
“That’s good,” she said, standing up. “I have to go now. My mother wants me to go out and play. She wants everything ‘back to normal’,” she added with a snort, making it quite clear just exactly what her opinion of that endeavor was.
Jaddo watched her go, recognizing the set of the shoulders and the look in the eyes, having seen both only yesterday in a taller, older version. Surely her mother had seen the same resemblance; how had she ever thought that she could keep knowledge of a war that encompassed a large part of her planet away from such an individual? It was a wasted effort, doomed from the outset.
He pondered the communicator in front of him, finally reaching a decision. He would wait. The child’s words had awakened a niggling seed of doubt, and experience had taught him her intuition was worth trusting. Besides, Brivari might be a big unhinged lately, but he was still no fool. He deserved another chance, just in case he really did have a compelling reason to stay silent.
Although he hadn’t been completely silent. The communicator had been almost fully activated when the child had startled him. Almost, but not quite. What if…..
Jaddo shook his head and set the communicator aside. He was just being paranoid again. There was no way anyone could pick up such a fleeting signal unless they were literally searching for it and knew exactly what to look for. He seriously doubted he had done any damage.
******************************************************
Copper Summit, Arizona
Malik walked between the rows of tanks in the lower level of the basement, inspecting the gauges on each one carefully, gazing at the forms inside. It wouldn’t be long now, and when they emerged they would be free, and bound to no one. He had waited for that day for the past four years. The tanks in this room and what they contained were the reason that he, Amar, and the others had agreed to help the Argilians in the first place.
He reached the end of the last row and headed back toward the staircase to the upper basement level. Everything had been quiet of late, for which he was grateful. The daily papers had continued to scream of a cover-up in Roswell, but the Leader had been uninterested in pursuing it. He was much too preoccupied with the faulty seal and the pressure from home, and much too disdainful of humans to take this seriously without further proof. Malik and Amar had already gallivanted all over the place with nothing to show for it, and the Leader seemed very willing at this point to believe that the transponder signal they thought they’d picked up was nothing more than a stray blip. It made no sense that the Royal Warders would have a transponder broadcasting from their ship. They were here; everyone was sure of that. But it would take years for the hybrids to grow, assuming they had managed to create them in the first place. There was plenty of time to find the Warders later.
Malik had encouraged this point of view at every available opportunity. He wanted to give Brivari, or whoever had survived, a chance to safely hide and settle down before he attempted to approach them. Depending on who was left, that approach could be tricky. Valeris might listen. Jaddo warded a military man, thus was unlikely to be sympathetic. Urza was a totally unknown quantity. Brivari would certainly take the defection years ago very personally and respond accordingly. Despite that, Malik found himself hoping that Brivari had survived. Brivari had brokered the agreement between the Covari and Zan’s father years ago, and even though Malik felt that had gone bad, he still believed Brivari’s motives had been honorable. There would be new agreements to broker in the future; it would be fitting if Brivari were there to participate.
A piercing tone filled the air, making him jump. Malik was instantly wide awake, eyes wide, heart racing. He knew that sound. He would know it anywhere.
Racing back to the upper level, he found Amar bent over a console, a look of triumph on his face.
“We’ve got them!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next week......
.....Malik's effort to stall things has failed, and......
.......Emily's effort to get things "back to normal" by sending Dee out to play has some unintended consequences, and....
.....Brivari returns for the dust--and runs into an angry little girl.
I'll post Part 61 next Sunday.
![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_smile.gif)