CHAPTER 29
How blessed is the man who
finds wisdom, and the man who gains understanding. For its profit is better than the profit of silver, and its gain than
fine gold. She is more precious than
jewels; and nothing you desire compares with her.
- Proverbs 3:13-18
The persistent knocking invaded Branard's
lurid dream for at least a minute before it finally stirred him from it. He woke to find himself lying on the couch
in his office, hugging an empty bourbon bottle like it was a teddy bear. The television set was still on; playing
some forgotten black and white film that would only be broadcast at an hour
when almost no one was watching. He
glanced at the clock. 4:43 AM.
He forced himself to sit up and he
dropped the bottle behind the sofa to hide it, hearing it clink against one of
the half dozen others concealed there.
The sofa stank of smoke and stale sweat. His mouth felt like he had been sucking on cotton and he had to
piss like a racehorse. His head
pounded, but he was long used to waking up with a headache.
"All right, all right... Come in already!" he yelled.
The door opened to reveal a big,
crew cut man dressed in camouflage, with an M-16 slung over his beefy
shoulder. He was dressed like a
soldier, but wore no rank or insignia whatsoever. It was the man that Branard knew only as Sergeant Meyer, who led
the small, covert guard that the agency had assigned to protect the alien
saucer. Although Meyer had strict
orders to follow Branard's commands and did so dutifully, Branard could see in
the hardened mercenary's expression the disdain he had for his drunken,
civilian boss. Fortunately for Branard,
he had little care of what the man's personal opinion of him was. Meyer and his men would machine gun a school
bus load of first graders if Branard so ordered and that was all that mattered.
"What is it, sergeant?"
choked out Branard, blinking from the light that filtered in from the corridor
behind the soldier.
"They're here," was all
the big man said.
"Already?" asked Branard,
"Are you sure?"
"We've detected an energy spike
from the alien craft," reported Meyer, "Something's been started up
inside. And someone's cut a hole
through the door leading to the hangar.
We've not seen any intruders, but you did say we might not be able
to."
"Yes, that's right," said
Branard, rubbing crusty sand from his eyes, "Consider them capable of
anything. Invisibility... Walking through walls... Anything.
Don't take any chances. Be ready
for anything. Go to condition Alpha,
immediately."
"Already there," replied
Meyer and turned to leave.
"Sergeant," called Branard
after him, "Make sure they don't get away. I want them alive if you can, but do whatever it takes to make
sure they don't escape."
"We have it under
control," said the big man without turning back, his voice dripping with
disrespect.
When he was out of sight, Branard
began to look for his shoes. He had
better get out there before they shoot every one of the intruders. He wanted them alive, if possible,
especially the one called Sarwin, if he was among them. Branard felt sure he would be.
Less than forty-eight hours ago, the
agency had detected a disturbance in orbit which matched the description that
the lizard bitch had once told Branard was indicative of one of their ships
arriving from a trip in time. On the
hunch that her people would come in an attempt to rescue her, he had put his
men on alert and took to sleeping here at the base, instead of going home at
night.
Branard knew he must not fail. He had to stop the reptoids from undoing the
accident that had destroyed their world and allowed humanity to come into
being. He would prefer to capture them
alive, as well as more saucers, for further study; but right now, stopping them
from destroying the Earth was his primary concern.
Branard knew he could not get to
them. He had no idea where they might
be hiding and if they were in space, they were definitely out of reach. Thus, it was his hope he could lure them to
him, using Siverelle and her ship as bait.
Renoldson's blabbering interview had ensured her detention here would be
broadcast into the cosmos, where hopefully her people would have received it
and be stirred to come to her aid.
Branard found his shoes and forced
them on, not bothering to tie them. He
then went to his desk and pulled out the snub-nosed thirty-eight revolver he
kept there, snug in its leather belt clip holster. He tucked it into his waistband and walked quickly out into the
corridor, following the heavy footsteps of the big sergeant.
"Well, they know we're
here."
Sarwin nodded at Renoldson's obvious
statement, as they peered out one of the saucer's windows. A single sentry had come in through the hole
they had cut through the door and made a cursory search of the hangar, even
peeking nervously inside the saucer. He
did not see the two trespassers because of the shroud fields that concealed
them and he then left the hangar, though Renoldson expected him to return
shortly, probably with reinforcements.
He was surprised that the place had not come alive with alarms. The thought troubled him.
"I think we'd better get that
outer door open and fly out of here while we can," suggested the human.
"The reactor will need another
twenty minutes to charge enough for flight," replied Sarwin, "I
suggest you use that time to find the mechanism to open the door."
"What about you?" asked
Renoldson.
"I am going to search for my
wife," replied the alien, tugging on the glowing pendant at his throat,
"This indicates she is nearby. At
the same time, I can create a distraction elsewhere to draw their attention
away from the ship."
"What if you get caught?"
asked the human, "I can't fly this thing out of here myself."
"You will not have to. Just get that door to the outside open and
be on the ship when the reactor is fully charged. I have set the autopilot to launch as soon as the reactor is
charged and the computer can detect a clear path to the outside. It will leave whether anyone is on board or
not. I have set the ship's navigation
system to rendezvous with my people at the coordinates in space where they are
waiting for me. If you are on board,
they will return you to your home before they leave for our world."
"Well, what if I can't get that
door open?" asked Renoldson.
"If the ship detects no way out
of this hangar by the time the reactor is charged, I have set it to
self-destruct. If you cannot open the
door by then, I suggest you exit through the hole we made to enter this room
and get as far away as possible."
"Oh great," said
Renoldson, "I don't work well under pressure, you know."
The alien reached into his satchel
and pulled out a flashlight-like device, similar to what he had used to cut the
hole through the inside door earlier.
"This is a laser cutting
tool," he said, handing it to Renoldson, "If you cannot find a way to
open the door, you can try to cut your way through it with this. I cannot guarantee there is enough of a
charge to cut a large enough hole. That
will depend on how thick the door is and what kind of metal it is made of. But you can try. This is the trigger."
He pointed to a small button on the side. "You can also use it as a weapon, if necessary. Do not point it at anything reflective, or
you may cut yourself in two."
"I don't want to hurt
anyone," said Renoldson, examining the device.
"That is your choice,"
replied the alien, "Also, remember to switch off your shroud field before
firing it. If you fire the laser
through your shield, it will overload the shroud's circuitry, rendering the
field useless."
"Gotcha," answered
Renoldson, carefully placing the laser into his jacket pocket, "You'd
better get going," he continued, looking at his watch, "I hope to see
you back here in nineteen minutes.
...and your wife, too! I look
forward to meeting her. Good luck,
Sarwin." He put out his hand
toward the gray being.
The alien regarded the human's
extended hand curiously. Then, understanding
the gesture, reached out and clasped it.
"And to you also, George Renoldson," he replied.
With that, the peculiar couple left
the saucer and parted ways, the chubby human heading toward the ramp leading to
the huge outside door, and the slight saurian disappearing out the hole they
had burned through the inner door.
Almost ten minutes later, Sarwin
found himself in a corridor that looked very much like the five other corridors
he had traveled through to get here. He
had made a long detour to an area far from the saucer, slinking past bands of
searching soldiers en route. Once
there, he used his laser to cut through a door, deliberately slicing through
what he took to be alarm wires. Hoping
this would draw human attention away from the saucer, Sarwin then doubled back,
using his wedding locket as a guide; its glow increasing whenever he moved
toward his wife and decreasing if he moved away.
Now he found himself before a metal
door, in front of which his pendent glowed brighter than anywhere else. It had a sign painted on it in the human
language, which he could not read, but he imagined it said "Keep
Out," or some such insipid message.
He tried the handle. Locked.
Looking around to make sure no one
was in the corridor to see him, he switched his shroud field off, then used his
laser to quickly and silently liquefy the bolt. He pushed the door open, stepped in, and shut it quietly behind
himself. It was dark inside and he
couldn't see the his hand in front of his face. But he had learned enough about human ergonomics to know there
would probably be a light switch on the wall near the door. He fumbled around for it. Sure enough, it was there and he flicked the
switch. Primitive florescent tubes in
the ceiling flickered on, bathing the room in light.
The walls of the small room were
lined with shelf units, on which sat various objects, and there was a table in
the center. Sarwin did not see his
wife, so he followed his glowing amulet over to the lone table. Lying right on top, folded neatly, was a
black garment that Sarwin immediately recognized as his wife's flight
suit. He picked it up and pressed his
face into it, inhaling deeply. He could
just barely detect her sweet scent and his mind danced in its splendor for a
fleeting moment. But the odor was very
faint. Siverelle had not worn this suit
for a long, long time.
Sarwin then noticed that on the
table were plastic trays and in one of them, he thought he could see the
faintest of lights. He reached in and
pulled out a wedding locked that looked just like his own. The pendant's glow was very faint, barely
even noticeable. Its microscopic
battery was long overdue for a charge.
The sight of it made Sarwin swallow hard. Siverelle would not have given this up willingly.
He began to notice other items on
the table that belonged to her; bits of jewelry and other pieces of
clothing. Looking up, Sarwin noticed a
second door, opposite the one through which he entered. For some reason, the sight of the door
filled him with dread and he shivered.
He gently placed his wife's wedding
locket into his satchel and then moved to the door. He listened and there was no sound on the other side. It was locked, as he expected, so he opened
it the same way he had opened the other.
The door swung open to reveal only darkness. He stepped inside and felt along the wall for the light
switch. He found the switch and threw
it.
The room was large, stark, tiled in
white and was filled with what appeared to be medical and surgical
equipment. There was a bare, metal
table, which Sarwin recognized was for autopsies, because of the drainage
channels along its edges. A large array
of lights and reflectors hung from the ceiling over the table. The place reeked of chemicals, especially
formaldehyde.
But what captured Sarwin's attention
most was a large object in the center of the room, which was covered with a
white sheet. Apprehensively, he walked
slowly over to it and stood before the object.
Fearing what he would find, he worked up the nerve to grab the
sheet. He gave it a hard jerk. The white cloth slid easily to the floor and
what it revealed was even worse than what he dreaded. Sarwin sink to his knees.
It was a great, horizontal tube of
yellow liquid. In the center, suspended
in the urine colored liquid like a specimen, floated Siverelle. What was left of her, anyway. She was naked and her body was crisscrossed
with long, crudely stitched autopsy incisions.
Her once silken green skin had faded to a pale olive drab, the luminous coloring long bled off by the harsh fluid. Her green eyes, now clouded in death, stared blankly toward the
ceiling.
"Oh T'Chen, no!!!" wailed
Sarwin, putting his hands over his eyes to hide the horrid scene, "I'm so
sorry, Siverelle... I'm so sorry,"
he sobbed, "I never meant this to happen.
Oh god, I'm so sorry..."
The floating cadaver offered him no
absolution. Its silence amplified his
remorse until he felt he would burst.
"I swear I will undo this, my
love," he promised, "I will get you home and you will be safe. I swear it."
Still, her pallid remains offered no
pardon.
Suddenly, it occurred to Sarwin that
if he was to undo this fate, he must get back to the ship right away. He checked his timepiece. The saucer would be leaving in about five
minutes, with or without him.
"I have to go, Siverelle,"
he whispered to her, "I can't take you with me, but that's alright,
because where I am going, you will yet live.
This reality will change and there will be no body to bury. I promise that you will once again..."
"Freeze!"
Shocked back into the here and now,
Sarwin looked past Siverelle's body to see that two human soldiers had entered
the room through a door opposite the one through which he had come. They pointed their long black weapons directly
at him. Sarwin looked down at
himself. They can see me!, he thought
in horror. In his grief over finding
Siverelle, he had forgotten to turn his shroud field back on!
Sarwin looked back at the door
through which he had entered. He could
see a wire leading to a set of magnets at the top of it. An alarm!
No wonder they had found him.
His mistakes had cost Siverelle her life and now it looked like they
were about to cost him his own.
"Don't even think about!"
ordered one of the humans, when it saw Sarwin eyeing the door, "Surrender
and you'll be treated well. Resist and
we will be forced to kill you."
Sarwin needed only to glance down at
his wife to know surrender was not an option.
Without any thought, he ducked behind the concealment of her crystal
sarcophagus and began to crawl quickly back towards the door.
"Cover me!" he heard one
of the humans shout, no doubt to his comrade, and Sarwin heard his heavy boot
steps coming around Siverelle's liquid tomb.
Almost to the door, Sarwin stopped his crawling, grabbed his laser torch
from his belt and aimed it toward the sound of the advancing footsteps. As soon as the green-clad human appeared
around the tube, it took aim at Sarwin, but the saurian already had the drop on
the Vartyiar. The human didn't even
have a chance to scream as Sarwin's beam sliced its head right off at its
shoulders. The headless body of the
beast twisted and collapsed to the floor without firing a shot. Its decapitated head struck the tiled floor
like a heavy melon.
Sarwin resumed his mad scramble for
the door when the deafening report of the second human's weapon resonated
throughout the room. The white tile on
the wall around Sarwin's intended escape route burst into clouds of ashen
powder as the bullets struck it and he realized he'd never make it through the
door without being perforated by the primitive projectiles.
He changed course and ducked behind
a sturdy lab table. Sarwin held his
laser at the ready, but he knew if he popped up to fire it, he'd be picked off
by the human before he could aim.
Sarwin considered turning on his shroud field to make himself invisible,
but the all the dust drifting in the air from the shattered wall tiles would
betray his form when he moved through it.
He was looking around wildly for an
idea when his eye caught a glimmer of movement above him. He looked up and realized he could see the
human's distorted image moving in some of the parabolic reflectors in the
lighting array over the autopsy table.
Sarwin realized that if the mirror could deliver the human's image to
his eyes, it could certainly return his laser beam to the human. Sarwin aimed his weapon at the mirror and
fired.
"Jesus fucking Christ!"
came the human's blood curdling scream, "My leg!"
Sarwin popped his head up to see the
human leaning against the wall across the room, its face twisted in agony. He saw much of the creature's left leg was
missing, sliced neatly off just below the knee by Sarwin's laser. There wasn't as much blood as might be
expected, as the beam had cauterized the dreadful wound most efficiently. Deciding to take this opportunity to flee,
Sarwin dashed for the door, but the human was not completely out of commission.
"Fuck you!" it shouted and
raised its weapon at the fleeing reptoid.
But its aim was off due to its injury and few stray bullets struck
Siverelle's tube, shattering it. Yellow
liquid splashed everywhere, filling the room with a lung burning chemical
miasma. Siverelle's body flopped
unceremoniously to the floor.
Completely panicked, Sarwin dashed
out of the door, firing his laser behind him without even trying to aim. Its white-hot beam flashed across the great
pool of spilled formaldehyde, igniting the volatile chemical. Most of the room was instantly engulfed in
flames, including the wounded human, who screamed in renewed agony at this
latest torment.
Sarwin dashed through the storage
room and back into the corridor. The
human's screams eventually subsided, most likely due to the mercy of death.
Catching his breath and trying to
keep his heart from beating out of his chest, the saurian switched his shroud
field back on, the started back toward the saucer. He had only minutes to spare before the ship's reactor would
reach full charge.
He hoped to T'Chen that Renoldson
had gotten that outside door open.