V_The 2nd Generation

by Kenneth Johnson

  Mary was beaming. "Charles will be so sorry he missed you. But why did you come all the way down here?"

  Emma set her purse on the scarred Formica table. "Because I should have come a long time before now, Mary. I brought you some stuff." She took from her purse an eclectic collection of quality food and wine.

  Mary's eyes went wide. "Emma! You didn't need to do this."

  "Oh, yes I did. Here, this is especially for you." Emma took out a gift basket of bath products she had carefully selected.

  Mary was amazed; she sniffed the flowery fragrances. "I can't even remember the last time I had anything like these."

  "And this is for you, Pop." Emma took out a bottle of prescription pills.

  The old gentleman peered through his glasses at it as Mary also realized it was medication for his diabetes. She was so astonished that all she could say was, "How?"

  Emma winked. "I've made some new friends." Then she grasped Mary's arm and looked at her with genuine concern. "Mostly I came just because I wanted to see how you were doing."

  Having witnessed how Mary had been so ravaged on the horrible, heartrending evening when Charlotte died, Emma expected her to still be extremely grief-stricken. She was thus unprepared when Mary seemed to almost toss off her answer, "Me? Oh, I'm okay." Mary cheerfully turned toward the kitchen, opening a cabinet. "What do you take in your tea?" Then she laughed a bit too loudly. "I sure hope it's something we've got!"

  Emma stared at her for a second, then looked at the elder Mr. Elgin seeking some explanation for Mary's odd effervescence. But the old man just met Emma's eyes with equal concern.

  Emma went gently to Mary and touched her sleeve. "Mary?"

  The woman turned to Emma with a friendly grin. "Hmmm?"

  "Are you sure you're okay? I really want to help if I can. If you need to talk, or—"

  "You are so sweet," Mary said with a smile. She touched Emma's cheek and the singer felt the slightest vibration emanating from Mary's hand. "You really are a dear. Oh, it was hard, God knows, but I'm doing much, much better than I thought I would. Really I am. And look"—she held up a very small box as though it were diamonds—"sugar!"

  Emma saw that Mary's eyes were twinkling very brightly.

  YSABEL WAS PROVIDING A BIT OF MAKEUP TO RELIEVE THE PALLOR from the cheeks of the Secretary-General and his wife. As she touched them up, Ysabel spoke to them in Spanish to ease their tension and help prepare Mendez for the vid recording session.

  There had been no word at all from the Flagship about the fate of Bryke. Neither Martin, nor Lee who worked in the Visitor Centcom, nor Willy, nor even Jon had been able to penetrate the cloak of security that had been tightly drawn around the imprisoned Zedti warrior. Ruby was worried for Bryke, not only because Bryke had helped to save the half-breed from torture at the Parnassas jail, but beyond that Ruby felt a unique bond to Bryke as a fellow twelve-year-old.

  Kayta noted Ruby's worried look and also saw the tense expression on Nathan's face as he helped Margarita and Gary arrange the small vid recording setup in one corner of the Resistance warehouse. Kayta knew that Nathan also had concerns for Bryke; that he was very frustrated by being forced to leave her behind at City Hall and by not being able to effect a rescue of the noble female.

  When Nathan and Margarita stepped to one side as Gary checked the audio levels and camera positioning, Kayta came to stand nearby, speaking softly to Nathan, "You have sad feelings about Bryke."

  Nathan glanced sharply at her. "You could say that, yeah."

  "I, too, miss her presence. We have long been comrades," Kayta said matter-of-factly.

  "I just can't understand how Ayden can be so cold about it." Nathan shook his head. "I know you people have less emotion than we do, but don't you feel anything?"

  Margarita agreed. "It's almost like he just doesn't care at all about what happens to her."

  "Ayden knows the great value of Bryke, believe me," Kayta confirmed. "But he also knows—as every loyal member of our race does—that any one of us must always be prepared to sacrifice our individual selves for the benefit of all Zedti."

  Nathan was impatient. "Yeah, yeah I understand all that, but forgive me if I just don't get it."

  "You approach the situation from human perspectives and emotions," Kayta tried to explain. "The mind-set of our race has evolved differently. If it had been Ayden who had been captured, Bryke would feel the same as Ayden does now. She would regret deeply the loss of him, but accept it without—without"—she searched for the proper phrase—"without anguish—I believe that is the word you would use."

  "Yes, it certainly is," Margarita said sadly.

  "Bryke would accept the loss of Ayden just as he accepts the loss of her. She would be focused instead on what actions must be taken to perpetuate the Zedti race."

  The frustration that Margarita and particularly Nathan felt had not been assuaged by Kayta. But they quieted themselves, realizing that the Secretary-General had begun to record his message.

  The entire Resistance team gathered to listen. Mike Donovan rolled closer to Nathan and Margarita in his wheelchair so that he, too, could hear. The Secretary-General's wife stood proudly at his side as Gary operated the vid camera. Mendez explained to the camera how his wife had been kept hostage by the Visitors to ensure his collaboration.

  "And thanks to my good friends in the Resistance," Secretary-General Mendez was saying, "I am now able to speak out." He took a deep breath and focused on the millions of people whom he hoped would eventually see him and hear his words. "This is what I know for certain. The Visitors have been lying to keep our hopes up. They will absolutely not return our water. Just as the Resistance has long suspected, Earth's water will fuel their growing Armada and their weaponry. The millions of Earth's people who have disappeared will be used as slaves or soldiers or, most horrible of all, they will eventually be used as fresh-killed food. And those who have been taken thus far have indeed been cocooned within stasis capsules on the Motherships . . . I have seen them."

  As the Secretary-General continued to describe the nightmare world of the Capsule Storage Chambers, Ayden stepped closer to where Margarita and Nathan stood and spoke quietly to them, "Prisoners we took in our last war told us that those kept inside the capsules are subjected to a barrage of information."

  Mike and the others reacted to this surprising new information. Nathan spoke softly so as not to disturb the recording process as he framed the question for all of them, "Why?"

  Margarita was more specific. "What kind of information? For what purpose?"

  "To indoctrinate the prisoners and train them for tasks they'll perform for their captors. They are subconsciously instructed in operational duties as slaves or in the use of various weapons for combat so they can become good, obedient soldiers."

  Nathan was sardonic. "And what kind of training do they get to be good sushi?"

  Margarita's eyes flicked over to him, then back to where the Secretary-General was still being recorded.

  "All of Earth's people will eventually be used for the sole benefit of the Visitors," Mendez said. "The Visitor Leader seeks to enlarge their empire. All of our human Teammate units are being readied as expendable foot soldiers to go on the ground against a Visitor enemy called the Zedti." The Secretary-General paused and drew himself proudly up to his full height. "But I now bring you the most stunning news of all. The Zedti are a powerful and honorable race of individuals who have come to our aid. Their scouts are already here on Earth doing reconnaissance in our behalf. One of their people sacrificed herself to aid in my escape. I have met with the Zedti commander. He has told me that behind these scouts stands their massive battle fleet. The Zedti leader has further assured me that his mighty force is poised to fight alongside humankind against our common enemy, the Visitors!" The Resistance team all shared hopeful glances with one another. They were unaware that the scene was also being observed by someone else.

  Teresa, the Visitor technician in the Flagship laborat
ory, was still unable to receive intelligible audio, but the video image had improved. She was fine-tuning, trying to finesse a yet clearer image from the jostling, clandestine camera that someone was holding within the Resistance headquarters. Teresa was so intent on her work that she wasn't aware of the Visitor doctor Eric passing behind her. Eric chanced to look over her shoulder and he froze fearfully when he glimpsed on the hazy, black and white screen someone whom he instantly recognized: his lover, Gary.

  ALSO DEEP WITHIN THE BOWELS OF THE GREAT FLAGSHIP, LESS THAN a half mile from the laboratory, was one of the medical chambers that had been generally reserved for autopsy work. It was windowless but there were vid screens on two walls for the display of various imaging. There was also a pair of long stainless metal tables that were slightly concave to contain any fluids escaping from the subject under investigation. They were slightly inclined so that such fluids would flow to the collector drain at one end.

  Large surgical-style lights hung overhead on adjustable arms for advantageous positioning. The room was very clean and it smelled of chemicals used in the autopsy process or for cleanup.

  Built into the walls were cabinets with glass fronts. They contained surgical equipment necessary for the work that transpired within the room. One cabinet, set somewhat apart from the others, contained unpleasant-looking surgical implements. That was because in addition to autopsies this particular chamber had been designed for another use.

  Nearest the cabinet with the unusual instruments was a straight-backed metal chair affixed within a vertical circular rail that allowed the chair to be rotated completely upside down if necessary. The floor beneath it, like the autopsy tables, was slightly concave to collect and drain fluids. Several instruments hung from the ceiling near the chair. On Earth they might have been mistaken for something like small X-ray units or dentist drills. One of them was brightly labeled in the Visitor alphabet Danger High Voltage. Suspended from the low ceiling were three small, adjustable lights, which could be trained on the chair. One of them was on, illuminating the individual sitting there.

  Bryke was alone in the shadowy room, her arms and legs clamped tightly to the chair. She was bruised from the battering she had taken in the Civic Center park, yet her face displayed the same calmness it had when she sat in the park a few hours earlier. She was meditating on the beauty of the daisy she had seen there. She did not register even the faintest reaction when the hatch in one wall hissed open.

  Jeremy stood in the hatchway looking at her, surveying her blue-black skin that even in the dark of the chamber had the sheen he recognized so well from his previous encounters with Zedti. He studied Bryke for a long moment. She never acknowledged his arrival in any way. She was focused on the daisy.

  At length Jeremy indicated for the female aide accompanying him to wait outside. Then he closed the hatch and approached Bryke, speaking with genuine appreciation of her talents. "I'm given to understand you're quite an artist at combat, yet you are also extremely soulful." He considered that prospect for a moment. "A most interesting combination for a warrior."

  He rolled a tall metal lab stool closer to hers and sat, speaking in a friendly manner. "I have a true admiration for artists, having risen through the ranks because of some modest skills of my own." He leaned slightly closer, speaking with a shade of pride and in a more confidential tone. "I have something of a gift for being able to inspire conversation. To excite in my subjects sensations of such . . . such"—he pondered, then, like the connoisseur he was, proceeded to select the most appropriate description—"sensations of such intensity that my subjects never imagined they could experience them within their lifetime."

  Bryke had continued to totally ignore his presence. Neither did she display the slightest belligerence or hatred or anger. She was as calm and quiet as a soft summer day.

  Jeremy was intrigued. He continued speaking, with false humility. "And just when that extreme intensity seems to have reached its peak, I have schooled myself in the ability to increase it ever so slowly and subtly to a crescendo that becomes, I'm told, truly exquisite."

  Still, Bryke was unmoving and focused on the daisy.

  "And, do you know, I quite enjoy it," Jeremy confided, smiling. "I find it absolutely exhilarating to be able to take someone to the virtual brink of mortality, the very edge of sanity, yet keep them alive and alert," he leaned close and whispered into her ear, "so that we can talk."

  25

  MARGARITA ROLLED THE OLD DRY-ERASE BOARD OVER TO WHERE Julie was leaning on her cane facing the assembling Resistance team. They were pulling up boxes or chairs to sit on to listen as Julie wiped the board clean, preparing to outline and diagram their plans. All of the regulars were in attendance, as were about two dozen others who represented all the secondary cells from the San Francisco-Oakland area.

  Margarita looked at the ragtag gathering. "This will be our most critical operation."

  "Ever," Julie emphasized. "We intend to stage a carefully coordinated, two-pronged attack."

  FOUR THOUSAND FEET ABOVE JULIE AT THAT MOMENT, JON WAS about to leave the Flagship laboratory where he had been doing his regular cleaning. He looked around for Eric to see if the doctor had any old equipment to discard, but Eric was not at his usual station in the lab near Teresa. So Jon started toward the hatch, passing Teresa's table where she was intent upon a small vid screen. Ever curious, Jon looked closer and his breathing went shallow as he realized what he was looking at. The inconsistent picture on the lab screen and the intermittent, faint sound was coming from a shaky camera spying within the Resistance headquarters.

  Jon started to back out and away when Teresa noticed him and snapped, "Hey, where do you think you're going?"

  Jon tried to stay calm but it was very difficult. "On to my next location, ma'am. I've finished my normal work here and—"

  "You're going nowhere until you clean up that mess over there." She was pointing at a greasy hydraulic spill oozing from beneath a piece of chemical equipment.

  "I'll have to get some special cleanser," Jon lied.

  "It'll be all over the place by then. Clean it up as best you can with what you've got and do it now."

  Jon had no choice but to comply. As Teresa turned back toward her screen and prepared to take careful notes, Jon also glanced fearfully at the flickering image of the Resistance cadre who had not the faintest idea that the security of their headquarters had been breached.

  IN THE RESISTANCE WAREHOUSE THE BAND OF BROTHERS AND SISTERS continued their conference. Margarita had divided the board in half and was jotting down bullet points on one side of it. "The vid transmission from their big Candlestick Park rally will be sent to their main ground station in Marin County. From there it's beamed up to the Flagship."

  "A dozen of us will hit that facility just as the broadcast starts," Julie said. "Then at the right moment we'll cut off their rally telecast and we'll transmit instead our own broadcast. Our Centcom spy will beam it on around the world."

  There were murmurs of enthusiasm from all the others, including Harmy who said, "Oh, my God, what a perfect idea!"

  "We're broadcasting the Secretary-General's thing, huh?" Street-C presumed.

  "Yes"—Julie nodded—"what he recorded, including the news that the Zedti are here to help—"

  "Plus the images from our vid—" Margarita interjected.

  "That's right," Julie continued, "all of that could be the catalyst we've needed to finally make everyone rise up"—she looked specifically over at Mike—"and get humanity back on its feet."

  IN THE FLAGSHIP LAB, JON HAD BEEN CLEANING AS QUICKLY AS possible while keeping an eye on Teresa. She was recording the transmission from the spy camera but also jotting down information that she could hear or read on the board in the Resistance headquarters. The sound was intermittent and she was straining to make out as many of the staticky words as possible. Jon was edging his way toward the hatch watching desperately for a chance to slip out.

  IN THE WAREHOUSE, MARGARITA
HAD TURNED HER ATTENTION TO the Zedti commander. "Ayden, now would be the time to call in your fleet."

  Kayta quickly hedged, "No, we shouldn't endanger other Zedti if we can stop them ourselves."

  Street-C wasn't the only one annoyed. "Hey, what're you guys, chicken?" Others among the humans grumbled agreement.

  Ayden ignored the criticism, looking at Julie. "And what is the other half of your plan?"

  Nathan spoke from where he sat in the front, half facing the group, "With Zedti help: a 'decapitation attack' on the Visitor High Command."

  "Emma has told us that there'll be at least fifty Mothership captains on the dais at Candlestick," Julie said.

  Margarita nodded. "It's the greatest opportunity we've ever had to hit so many at one time."

  "Very well," said Ayden, "I have a tactical missile that can accomplish that task. It is very small but nuclear, easily enough to destroy the stadium."

  "Whoa, wait a minute." Harmy wasn't the only one concerned. "Nuclear? No"—she looked toward Julie for support—"too many innocent people would die!"

  Ayden shrugged. "You must sacrifice a few in order to save the majority."

  "A few?" Ysabel peered sharply at him over her half-glasses. "There's a hundred thousand people gonna be there. Over half of 'em human."

  "And Emma among them," Gary reminded everyone.

  "Maybe we can get her clear," said Street-C, "but either way it's war, man. I'm with Ayden, I say we gotta slam the suckers."

  The group voiced many arguments. There were compelling justifications on both sides of the issue. Harmy looked pleadingly toward her leader. "Julie?"

  Julie's mouth went dry as she weighed all the options. Before she could respond Gary spoke up, "How about a vote? I'm against. Who else?"

  A slim majority raised their hands along with Gary. Ayden and Kayta were among those in favor of the nuclear attack, along with Nathan and Street-C, but it was voted down.