by Allen Wold
"And what are you going to do?" Robert asked.
"Get back into the network and find out more about who ordered that arrest and why. I might be able to apply a little pressure and have the order countermanded." His smile indicated that the kind of pressure he had in mind would result in dead bodies. "And if I can't do that, I want to at least find out what they intend to do with our people. Because we are going to rescue them, one way or another"
It was not, in fact, a standard security facility to which Julie, Mike, the other rebels, and the fifth columnists were taken. It was instead an abandoned private sanitarium on the coast just beyond Laguna Beach. The single huge building was surrounded by a ten-foot-high stone wall, with broken glass set into the top and a single gate on the landward side. Toward the ocean, the wall abutted the rear of the building, with its windows giving an excellent view of the bluff on which the sanitarium stood and of the beach below.
There was plenty of room in the walled courtyard for all the security vans and the motorcycle escort. The Guardsmen supervised the unloading, leading the prisoners in small groups, human and Visitor, from the vans to the double front doors. When one van was emptied, the driver pulled it around to the side of the building, and the next was driven into place.
Mike Donovan, Juliet Parrish, Barbara, Martin, Diana, and Elizabeth Maxwell were among the last to be unloaded. The Guardsmen were terse and efficient but not rough with them as they helped them down from the van and led them up the stairs to the sanitarium. Colonel Fletcher and one of his lieutenants fell in beside them as they entered the building.
"Why are we being brought here?" Donovan demanded.
"For two reasons," the colonel answered. "First, you are a special problem. We can't put you in among regular prisoners. We don't have facilities for this many in private cells unless we spread you out all over the state. Your Visitor friends wouldn't live very long in a regular jail or prison. Even your lives would be in danger.
"And second, this place is very secure. Until it went broke two years ago, only the most dangerous, the most violent psychotics were kept here, people who could escape from almost every other sanitarium. The security is excellent."
The main lobby was dusty with disuse but seemed to be fully furnished. As the prisoners were brought in, they were segregated by race. The humans were led off to the right wing, the Visitors to the left.
"What about this little girl," a Guardsman asked as Elizabeth was brought up.
"She doesn't belong with these people," Colonel Fletcher said. "Can you take care of her until we locate her family?"
"Should be no problem," another Guardsman said. "We've got plenty of room in back. She can play with some of the physical therapy stuff the doctors left behind."
"How are you going to feed us?" Martin asked when it was his turn.
"You get your meals like everybody else," the colonel said.
"The Visitors can't eat our food," Juliet told him. "Only live animals or freshly killed meat."
The colonel looked from Martin to Barbara with growing distaste. "And to think I shook hands with you. But I suppose you're too valuable to let starve. Lieutenant Casey?"
"Yes, sir," his staff officer said.
"You heard the lady. See to it these Visitors are fed 'properly.'"
"Yes, sir," Casey said.
Mike and Julie, following the rest of the rebels, were led down a short hall at the end of which was a heavy fire door. Beyond this was another hall, elling to the right along the back of the building. The walls of both sides of this corridor were mostly heavy reinforced glass, allowing complete visibility into the rooms beyond. Doors of a similar glass were set between the windows, each with a large, complicated lock.
The first rooms were small and looked like individual cells. Other rooms held various kinds of therapy equipment. Near the end on the right were two large rooms, similarly windowed, each with a set of bunks, chairs, and a few tables. Across from them were four smaller rooms in which interviews might be conducted. At the very end of the hall was what looked like a common room, but they didn't go in there. Instead, they were let into one of the bunk rooms where the rest of the rebels were already assembled. Two doors connecting the two bunk rooms were left open.
"Looks like they got us this time," Elias Taylor said. He was trying to sound devil-may-care, but wasn't pulling it off too well. His father, Caleb, was standing at one of the outside windows, looking out into the courtyard at the front of the building.
"It's better than some of the jails I've been in," Sancho Gomez said. "Only problem is, no bathrooms."
"There's one down the corridor" Maggie Blodgett told him. "I saw it when I came by. Not much privacy, though, same glass wall in front."
"What happened to Elizabeth?" Caleb asked, turning from the window.
"She's staying with the guards," Juliet said. "They're not bad men—they'll take care of her."
The other rebels, seven altogether, sat listlessly in chairs, looked out windows, or glared through the glass wall at the guards in the corridor. Then one, a short, stocky Oriental named Thomas Lee, got up from his chair, picked it up, and smashed it against the outside window nearest him. The heavy chair just bounced off the reinforced glass. The guard outside watched impassively. "Goddamn bastards," Lee swore, and swung the chair again. He succeeded in breaking one leg off. The glass was unmarked. Still the guard did nothing.
"I think it's a waste of time," Mike Donovan said, "and if you keep it up, we'll run out of furniture real fast."
"I want to know why we're in here," Lee shouted. "We're the ones who drove the fleet off. We're the ones who captured Diana. We're heroes, goddamn it."
"Apparently not everybody thinks so," Julie said dryly. Out in the hall, the guard continued to watch. He seemed almost bored.
They were served a late breakfast on paper plates with plastic utensils which were shoved through a narrow trap at the foot of the door. The food, though not exciting, was relatively hot and decently prepared.
"I think our friend the colonel is acting far too independently," Caleb said around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.
"He's probably been converted," Sancho added.
"I don't think so," Julie said. "I really have only myself to compare with—and Sean, of course—but he seems to be in complete control of himself."
"I think you're right," Mike agreed. "Sean was awfully quiet after he came back from the ship. Things like his not being interested in baseball wouldn't be noticed by anybody who hadn't known him before, of course. But now that I think about it, there were other signs I just didn't want to notice at the time. The colonel is showing none of those signs at all. God, I hope Sean's all right."
"I'm sure he is," Julie said. "Ham or Robert must have found him at Visitor Headquarters. He's probably safe at the lighthouse right now."
"You know," Thomas Lee said, coming over with a paper cup of coffee, "we don't even know how that raid came out. I'm sure Ham and Chris know their stuff, but we never got any word, and nothing was ever mentioned on TV."
"They're out there somewhere," Mike said. "I just can't see the Fixer failing on a job like that one. And whether they succeeded or not, they must know that something has happened to us. We sure let everybody know where we were going to be."
"They probably walked into a trap," Elias Taylor said, "just like we did."
"What about our friends up on the ship?" Maggie Blodgett asked. "When we don't go back up for another load of canned people, Peter is going to know something is wrong."
"He's going to have his own problems," Donovan said. "First, there are still several turncoats on the loose. I wish we'd taken the time to clear up that mess before landing. And then, what if Colonel Fletcher decides to send his troops up in the shuttles? How's Peter or Aaron or Arnold going to know they aren't friends?"
"Peter can always refuse to let him dock, can't he?" Julie asked.
"Sure, but why should he do that?" Mike asked. "Unless Fletcher does so
mething to make him suspicious. Peter's not dumb, but the trouble is that Peter and the others are not real leaders. Even if they keep Fletcher out, I don't see what they can do about finding us. I was counting on Martin and Barbara taking over after this first trip."
"So it doesn't look like we're going to get any help," Caleb Taylor said. "We can't count on anybody knowing where we are. If we're going to get out of here, we'll have to do it ourselves."
Maggie said, "Our only advantage over the people they kept here before is that we're not crazy."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Elias said.
When lunch came, the procedure was different. A Guardsman opened the door, his M-16 drawn, and with two other guards, equally alert, motioned the rebels to go stand over against the far wall. Then two more guards wheeled in carts holding covered trays. While these were being set on a nearby table, the three armed men kept their weapons trained on the rebels.
"Hey," Caleb Taylor called, "why the hell are we being kept locked up?"
"Why shouldn't you be locked up?" A guard with sergeant's stripes asked. "If it weren't for you and other rebels like you, we would have gotten a lot from the Visitors."
"Like what?" Elias asked.
"Like a cure for cancer, for one thing," the sergeant said.
"They wouldn't have given it to us," Mike Donovan answered. "That was just a false promise to make us want to cooperate."
"That's your idea," the sergeant said. "They never had a chance to give it to us because you guys started causing trouble right from the beginning. Every time John or Diana got ready to release some of their technology to us, you'd pull a raid like that time at the medical center."
"We had to let people know what the Visitors were really like," Julie told him, "what they were really up to. You saw the broadcast."
"Yeah, the one you faked, and the real one too. I don't believe all that fancy makeup stuff you claimed. And besides, my wife could really have used that cancer cure."
"You don't understand," Sancho Gomez started to say.
"I understand well enough," the sergeant insisted as the two carts were wheeled out. The other two armed guards moved toward the door, still keeping their weapons trained on the rebels. The sergeant was the last one out. "I understand you guys are getting better than you deserve," he said from the doorway.
"Now, wait a minute," Maggie Blodgett protested, stepping forward. The sergeant turned the gun on her. "You say we're here because we drove the aliens off. Colonel Fletcher accused us of being collaborators. You can't have it both ways."
"The colonel's got strange ideas. Fortunately for your friends in the other wing, the Lieutenant Governor wants all these aliens kept alive. We'll get what we want out of them. It's just a matter of time."
"You may not have that much time," Juliet Parrish told him. "We don't know how long the antitoxin lasts, but if the Visitors here don't get another dose pretty soon, they'll die just like all the others."
"Not all of them, maybe. That toxin you spread isn't one hundred percent effective, you know. We've got some survivors."
Survivors?" Mike asked. "Are you sure?"
"Sure I'm sure. Some of them never got exposed, some got hold of some kind of respirator, but some we thought were dead revived after a day or so. Even the strongest pesticide leaves a few bugs alive, you know."
"But then why are you keeping us?" Sancho asked.
"Because you're too dangerous. You turn against your own kind, you destroy any chance we might have for learning the alien's technology. But we'll get it, some of it, one way or another. A lot of them have already agreed to cooperate. Those who don't will stand trial with you. Not that that trial will be very fair," he finished with a grin. He stepped back through the doorway and shut it behind him. The sound of the complicated latch locking was unmistakable.
"Damn fool," Mike said. "Can't he see that half of what he says contradicts the other half?"
"Of course he can't," Julie said. "He's not thinking, he's just angry. If there had been a cancer cure, and if John had given it to us, his wife would be healthy today."
"I think I can see his point," Caleb said, "even if it's wrong. But right now let's eat before this food gets cold."
The presence of the food under the flimsy plastic covers made them all hungry again though they'd eaten not that long ago.
"How can there be survivors?" Maggie wanted to know, trying to cut her ham with the plastic knife.
"Like the man said," Sancho answered, "there are always some bugs that are immune to any poison."
"Unless, of course," Julie offered, "the poison is so broad and powerful that, like strychnine, it just kills everything. Which our toxin wasn't. It was specific to the Visitors and affected their nervous system. Think about Elizabeth—she's naturally immune."
"I like the part about how willing those survivors are to cooperate," Elias Taylor said with a wry laugh. "Hell, I'd be willing to cooperate too if I were in their position—until they gave me a chance to escape."
Caleb said, "I wonder just how long it will take those survivors to figure out that they can influence anybody who's been converted."
"If they're desperate enough," Julie said, "not long. All one of them would have to do would be to want a convertee to help them. They'd see that person behaving in an oddly cooperative fashion and know the truth right away."
"And these survivors," Caleb went on, "will be questioned by converted scientists, converted politicians, converted generals. Not all these Visitors are smart—hell, Willie ain't exactly bright—but some of them are, and you can bet they'll figure things out pretty quickly."
"And once they have even a few people under their control," Maggie went on, "they'll have the wedge they need to gain control of the whole country again."
"And every other country too," Thomas Lee agreed.
"It's a sure thing," Donovan said, "that none of those survivors are fifth columnists."
"That's right," Lee said, "and they'll be angry, just like that sergeant was, so even if they might have been on our side, they'll all be against us now."
Mike added, "If they can do to our scientists and politicians what Diana did to Julie, then we've got real trouble."
"We've got to let people know about this," Maggie said.
"And to do that," Lee added, "we've got to get out of here."
"Do you think anybody would believe us about telepathic control?" Mike asked. "If I didn't know better I'd think we were all paranoid."
"Is that any harder to believe than flying saucers?" Julie asked.
"No, but everybody has seen flying saucers now," Mike said. "Real ones. But you're the only person with any evidence of mind control. And the way our credibility is now, I wouldn't bet on your convincing a lot of people, even if we had some way to get the message across."
"Besides," Maggie added, "the people we have to really convince are ones who are in power and thus already converted and controlled. Mike didn't want to believe that Sean was converted, and if Julie's conversion had been successful, do you think she'd want to believe that about herself?"
"What are we arguing about?" Sancho Gomez cried. "None of this matters if we can't figure out a way to escape. If we can do that, then we can find out whether the convertees will believe us or not."
"You're right," Julie told him. "We've got to tackle this thing one step at a time. And the first step is to eat, then get some rest. We're all too far behind on our sleep to be able to think clearly."
"Right," Elias agreed. "And if we stay quiet, the guards may stop paying us so much attention." He looked through the glass wall to where a single Guardsman was slowly walking up and down the corridor outside, keeping his eyes on them as he walked.
Chapter 9
The complex of rooms in the wing where the eleven Visitors were being kept was almost a mirror image of those occupied by the rebels. Here, the corridor entrance from the lobby hall was on the right, and the common room was on the left. Like the rebels,
the Visitors had been put into a pair of connecting bunk rooms across from which, clearly visible through the glass walls, were interview rooms.
Unlike the rebels, the Visitors had had to do without breakfast while Lieutenant Casey and two privates had gone into Laguna Beach to find a pet store. Also unlike the rebels, they had not had to suffer being watched while they ate. The first time Barbara popped a live hamster into her mouth, the guard had disappeared up the corridor toward the main lobby.
The cardboard animal boxes stood empty on one of the tables now. All the Visitors sat in chairs or lay in bunks except for Diana, who stood at an outside window watching as two Guardsmen patrolled the grounds inside the high wall.
"Why don't you relax, Diana," Martin called to her. He was sitting at the table, fiddling with one of the perforated boxes.
"Relax?" she said sarcastically, turning to face him. "How can I relax?"
"Why not? We're not being treated badly, all things considered."
"We wouldn't be here at all if it weren't for you," Diana said. "We'd all be safe on our ship, heading back home now. But no, you, all of you, decided that the survival of our planet, of our people, was not as important as helping these relavish."
"What we were doing before was wrong," Martin said. Barbara and another Visitor, Joanna, came over to sit with him.
"Indeed," Diana said. "I think you've got it backward. Sure those rodents we had for lunch have a right to try to survive, but we have a right to eat them too. Humans eat meat—if their cattle tried to revolt and break out of their pens, how long do you think it would take the humans to put the rebellion down and slaughter the whole lot of them?"
"But humans aren't cattle," Joanna said. "That's the difference."
"If they can survive on their own strength," Diana said, "fine. But you, you got into the pens with them. You betrayed your own people."
