by V. E. Lemp
A fleet of vehicles passed through the intersection. Karen sank back into the shadowed doorway. It looked like a military convoy—she noted National Guard emblems on the doors of the trucks. A loudspeaker mounted on top of one of the vehicles began to hiss and bark. Then a voice blared across the street.
“Remain in your homes,” it said. “Do not step outside. This is a mandatory lockdown. Anyone already inside must stay inside. Anyone found outside will be escorted to a safe location.”
“Shit.” Karen yanked her cell out of her purse and frantically punched the button to dial Mark’s number. No reply except his recorded voice. “Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered, keeping one eye on the road. When she hadn’t spied a vehicle for several minutes, she slipped around the corner of the doorway and crept to the intersection, hugging the buildings lining the sidewalk.
Mary’s house was only one block over and had a back alley where Sam had parked his van. There was a gate from the alley into Mary’s small backyard. That was her way in. Karen swallowed a hysterical bubble of laughter. Thank goodness for her artist’s tendency to remember in images. She might not have been able to locate Mary’s house otherwise.
Karen crept along the quiet street. A curtain moved in a third-floor window, and she caught sight of a woman’s face, pale and insubstantial as a ghost. The woman stared directly at Karen, then flicked the curtain back into place, blocking her view.
Karen kept walking. She had to think of something to say if she was betrayed to the authorities. It’d probably be best if it were close to the truth—her husband was missing. She was searching for him. That would have to do.
Reaching the alley that ran beside Mary’s house, Karen ducked into its shadows just as another convoy of trucks rumbled down the road. She pressed her back up against the cool bricks of the adjacent building. One of the trucks came to a stop in front of the alley. It was a transport vehicle, its cargo bed covered by a heavy canvas canopy. The wind caught one corner of the flap and exposed the interior for a moment. People were packed tightly into the back of the truck—eyes wide with terror above the flimsy paper masks covering their noses and mouths. A woman with cropped hair reached out one hand, etched in tattoos. Karen almost called out, but when Bev’s gaze met hers, the other woman shook her head and turned aside. A figure in a white hazmat suit grabbed the edge of the flap and yanked it back down as the truck rolled away.
“You should not be out on the street, Karen Foster Hallam.”
Karen spun around. “Douglas. What are you doing here?”
“I told you I was traveling to Dulce,” said the avatar. “Alice asked me to keep an eye on you.”
“Where are they taking them, those people in the trucks?”
Douglas laid his hand on her arm. “They have set up facilities outside of town. Some type of camp.”
“A containment camp, you mean.”
“Yes, if what I know of your history is correct.”
“So is there really some epidemic, or is this all just an excuse to close down Myron Tarrow’s UFO sightings?”
“Unfortunately, there is a real illness.” Douglas motioned for Karen to follow him into the alley. “Come away from the street. You cannot risk being seen.”
“This illness, is it anything natural?”
“It is manufactured. From our specifications, unfortunately. Not something typically seen on your world.”
“That should raise some interesting questions,” Karen said, as she followed Douglas down the alley and out onto a side street.
He glanced over his shoulder. “I am afraid not. It appears as a variant of your—what do you call it? Influenza.”
“Oh.” Karen sighed. “Another killer flu. Or so they’ll say.” She jogged to catch up with Douglas. “I’m looking for my husband. Do you have any idea where he is?”
“Mark Hallam? I believe he is at the camp. Trying to rescue someone, if my information is correct.”
“One of his agents.” Of course—what else would compel Mark to leave her? “And my other friends, do you have any information on them? Did they get out of town?”
They crossed the empty street and ducked back down another alley. “Yes, they were able to escape. The woman and her son got away without incident. The other two vehicles were followed.”
Karen glanced at the avatar’s stoic face. “But not stopped?”
“No, their pursuers met with obstacles. Minor accidents blocked the road behind your friends. They traveled on to safety, but those following were caught up in the stalled traffic. A clever diversion.”
Karen stopped in her tracks. “Mark’s agents? They staged the accidents?”
“That is my understanding of the situation. Your husband possesses a remarkable mind for a human.”
“Yes, I know. But he’s also extremely loyal. He won’t leave a colleague in danger if he can help it. I’m afraid for him. He could be trapped in that camp along with his agent.”
“That will not happen. Come along. I too am loyal. As is Alice. We will not allow Mark Hallam to fall into the hands of Exocorp or its collaborators.”
Karen struggled to keep up with Douglas’s longer strides. “Are you taking me to him?”
“Yes. Or at least to a rendezvous spot.” He gave Karen a sidelong glance. “Alice is extracting him from the camp as we speak.”
“Thank goodness for Alice,” she said with heartfelt sincerity. “She’s helped us so many times.”
“She is quite … What do you say? Fond? Yes, fond of you, I believe. You and your husband and your friend Alex Wythe.”
“Fortunately for us.”
Douglas extended his arm to stop Karen from moving forward. “Yes, I doubt you understand quite how fortunate that is. Now, we must wait here for a moment.” He glanced up at the sky. “It is not yet time to move forward.”
Karen leaned against the wall of one of the buildings flanking the alley. “Do you know Alex Wythe, Douglas? He lived among you for some time.”
Douglas’s gaze swept over her face. “I have met him, but only in the form of his avatar. I believe he called himself David Cole.”
“Yes, that’s correct.” Karen stared into Douglas’s strange, dark eyes. “Whatever happened to him—or it, I suppose—when Alex came home? David Cole, I mean. What do you do with such creatures when they’re no long needed?”
“They are collected.”
Karen frowned. “That seems so… cold, somehow. Garbage is collected, and I can’t think of David Cole, or you, Douglas, as garbage. I don’t know, I guess it’s just my human bias. It’s hard not to view your avatars as real people.”
A smile quirked Douglas’s lips. “Humans see everything in relation to themselves. As if there is no way for anything to exist except to be like or unlike them. It is a peculiar way to comprehend the universe.”
“Yet you find us interesting enough. You’ve studied us for years and years.”
“I did not say you are uninteresting.” Douglas glanced back at the sky. “We should move on. Stay near me. We are entering an area where we will encounter others of your kind. I can blur their vision, but only close about this body.”
Karen took hold of his proffered hand. “Blur their vision? What does that mean?”
“They will view me—and you, if you are close beside me—as if something seen out of the corner of the eye.” Douglas pulled her close to his side. “A flash of movement, a shadow, something you think you see, but when you look again it is not there.”
“Another trick of the mind.”
“Yes. It is something we depend on. Humans generally will not believe their own eyes if they see inexplicable things. You dismiss sightings that cannot be absolutely explained.” He led Karen down another street. “We are almost there.”
They paused in front of an abandoned storefront. Douglas reached out and flipped the latch, and the door swung open without a sound. Karen turned, expelling a gasp. A group of National Guardsmen stood sentinel on the opposite side of th
e street. They scanned the area, but their eyes swept over her and Douglas without acknowledgement.
“Follow me.” Douglas walked into the building without releasing his grip. She stepped into the shadowed hallway. Only once they were inside and the door shut tightly behind them did Douglas drop her hand.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness Karen realized they were standing in an empty clothing store. A few desultory racks, filled with empty plastic hangers, sat against the wall, and a pile of faded price tags littered the front counter. One side of the shop was covered in floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Karen caught sight of her pale face, surrounded by a tangled cap of brown hair. She bit the inside of her cheek to prevent a bark of laughter. What in the world did Alex see in her now?
“What the hell?” said a familiar voice.
She turned to face her husband. “Hello, Mark. You were gone so long and not answering your phone, and I kept hearing all this stuff on TV so I came looking for you.”
“I thought I told you to stay put.” Mark’s glasses glinted, hiding his eyes.
“You did. But—”
“But you never listen to me. Yes, I know.” Mark stepped forward and took Karen by the arm. “Now you’ve put yourself in danger and made things more difficult for me. I hope you’re satisfied.”
Karen lifted her chin. “I was, for a moment, when I found you. Now I’m not so sure.”
Mark pulled her into his arms. “Why must you constantly… Oh, never mind.” He kissed her lips before standing back to examine her. “So now, as well as getting my agent and myself out of here, I have to make sure you stay safe. Or, among other things, Alex will kill me.”
“Probably. But it won’t come to that. We do have Douglas to help us.” She looked into Mark’s eyes. As she’d hoped, his initial anger had faded into a weary acceptance. “Where’s Alice, by the way? Douglas said she was extracting you from the camp.”
“She did, but we couldn’t locate my agent in the crowd. Alice volunteered to go back and look again. She brought me here to wait. Fortunately, Alice’s avatar is immune to the virus. Of course, I didn’t expect to meet you. Although I should’ve known, when Alice dispatched Douglas on a secret mission.”
Douglas moved a little closer to them. “You were not exposed to the infection?”
“No, I never got that far. I spied the quarantine tents and headed for them, but Alice grabbed me by the arm and basically force-marched me out of the camp.” Mark glanced over at Douglas. “What is that, by the way? I found I didn’t really have any will of my own for quite some time.”
Karen nodded. “Alice did that to me once. You want to move but lose the will to do so.”
“This was the opposite. I wanted to stay, but I had to keep walking.”
“It’s the same principle,” Douglas said. “Another trick of the mind. Not so very difficult. Something we learn very young.”
Mark looked him up and down. “Which is probably quite a few hundred years ago, if my theories are correct.”
“Yes, some time ago. Long enough to perfect our skills, at any rate.”
“Mark.” Karen moved next to him. “What did you see? What are they doing with the people they’re taking to that camp?”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “Just containing them, from what I could see. But there were quarantine tents, so they’re set up to deal with anyone who falls ill.” He ran his free hand through his short hair. “But it’s obvious anyone held in that camp is going to be exposed to the disease sooner or later. They’re packed in there like sardines. I overheard some flunky tell one of the detainees they were there because they’d been exposed to the virus, but I’m sure that was a lie. Unfortunately, it won’t be for long. Not under those conditions.”
“Can’t we do anything?”
“The best we can accomplish is to get you both out of town,” Douglas said. “And Mark Hallam’s agent, if that is possible. There is little we can do for the others.”
“That hardly seems right. All of Myron’s followers were captured?”
“I suspect so,” Mark said. “My agent was embedded with those camping near the viewing site. The last message I received from her indicated they were being rounded up.”
“But the others got away, did you hear?” Karen placed her arm about Mark’s waist and gave him a gentle hug. “Douglas says they all got out, Mary and Will as well as Sam, Alex, and Myron and the girls.”
“Yes, I knew that.” Mark looked down at her with a brief smile. “My agents reported the operation a success.”
Karen met his gaze with a hopeful look. “Those agents, perhaps they can help us again?”
Mark stared at the mirrors on the far side of the room. “No. I sent them away. They’d done their part. I didn’t want to risk anyone else. I told them to drive out of town after the accidents were cleared.”
Karen leaned her head against his shoulder. “I understand.”
Mark brushed her hair with a kiss. “I knew you would.”
“I believe Alice is returning,” Douglas said. “But I’m afraid she is alone.”
Mark took a deep breath. “Very well. I suppose it was too much to ask to get everyone out.”
Alice stepped into the room, carefully closing the door behind her. “You have heard.” She gazed at Mark’s face.
He reached for Karen’s hand. “What happened?”
“I did find your colleague, but she was already ill. Much too ill to move. I am sorry, Mark Hallam.”
“One more.” Mark’s voice was quite calm, but that was no indication of the depth of his emotion. Karen tightened her grip on his fingers.
“She may yet survive,” Alice said. “It is difficult to say.”
“Her name’s Julie. And she’s only twenty-eight.” Mark pulled away from Karen and strode to the mirrored wall, resting his forehead on the glass. “How many more? How many must die to satisfy the greed of Vance and his goons? How many people must be damaged before those of your kind decide to leave us alone?”
“Many, I think.” Sorrow sharpened the flat timbre of Alice’s voice. “It is not so easy to change practices accepted for centuries. Even humans have this problem.”
Mark turned to face her, leaning back against the mirror. “Maybe it’s time to take more drastic action. Have you no stomach for that?”
Alice surveyed him calmly. “Have you? Would you have me start a civil war? Condemn my own people to certain destruction? Because, you see, we do have that capability.”
“As do we. Yet somehow we’ve not destroyed ourselves utterly, despite all our foolish wars.”
“I do not wish to see either of our societies lost forever,” Alice said. “Nor do you, Mark Hallam, in your heart. It is anger that clouds your mind at this moment.”
Mark lifted his head and met the gaze of Alice’s alien eyes. “You know me too well.”
A faint smile crossed Alice’s face. “Yes, we do. Which is why we will continue to protect you and your friends. You are part of our hopes for a better outcome. Despite many roadblocks, I still believe in such things. Now, come. Douglas and I will lead you safely back to your motel.”
“Without being seen?” Mark stepped forward to take her outstretched hand.
“It’s another one of their talents.” Karen walked over to Douglas. “We’ll look like those dark shadows you see sometimes, just out of the corner of your eye.” She placed her fingers into Douglas’s palm.
Mark raised his eyebrows. “Oh, is that what those are? I’ve seen those before. Were you watching me then?”
“Sometimes. And sometimes,” Alice said, tucking his hand into the crook of her elbow, “watching over you.”
When they reached the motel, Douglas offered to carry their luggage to their rental car. “I can load your trunk without notice,” he said when Mark protested. “You cannot. You should go with Alice and check out of the motel. Your bill will be paid, but you will not be remembered.”
Karen stayed in the room until Mark retur
ned. Alice was not with him.
“She claimed she had other business to attend to,” he explained.
“She is going back to the camp,” Douglas said. “I must go as well. It is improbable we can do any real good, but Alice will always consider the impossible an opportunity.”
Karen smiled at him. “Does your own society respect Alice as much as we do?”
“Those who know her do. Even those who disagree with her principles. Now, I suggest you leave as soon as darkness falls. You may be followed, but it will be more difficult at night, especially if they are following someone as adept in these matters as your husband.”
“I hope I can live up to your expectations,” Mark said. “We’ll be on our own, I’m afraid.”
“Not entirely.” Douglas opened the door. “Ask Karen to concentrate on your situation. You may be able to garner some assistance that way.”
“What do you mean?” Mark looked at Karen with a puzzled expression on his face.
“Karen knows.” Douglas stepped outside. He accepted their thanks with a bob of his head. “Be careful. I hope to meet with you again.” He disappeared around the corner of the building.
“What did he mean about assistance?” Mark walked up behind Karen and wrapped his arms about her. “What do you know?”
She sighed. “I believe it’s connected to some of the Oneiroi’s special skills.” She leaned back against Mark’s chest. “It seems their mental tricks can be learned, given the right circumstances. And perhaps”—she covered his hands with hers—“the Oneiroi are not the only beings capable of such training.”
ELEVEN
The sky had faded from violet to smoky gray when Karen climbed into the passenger seat of their rental car. She looked over at Mark, who was thumbing through the cards in his wallet.
“There’s one thing I don’t get,” she said, fastening her seat belt. “Won’t all of the roads in and out of town be closed?”
