by Allen Wold
Mike and Lee rushed up. Inside, on shelves among stacks of linen, were their weapons.
"It looks like the Visitors' guns are here too," Thomas Lee said as he passed the pistols and rifles out to the rebels.
"That's our next stop," Mike said. With Lee beside him, he led the others into the lobby area.
The overhead lights had been turned down but not completely off. There was no one in sight, but the central hall, leading to the back of the building with stairs going up one side to the second floor, was bright and they could hear muted conversation.
Quietly they crossed the lobby to the far hall which led to the other wing. The door at the other end, opening into the corridor, was open, and Mike could see the guard in there, slowly pacing back and forth.
He watched for a moment until he could see the pattern in the guard's movements. Then one more time the guard came toward the hall door, turned, and Mike stepped through immediately behind him. The guard, sensing a presence, turned to find Mike's pistol nearly touching the bridge of his nose. He froze.
Coming round either side, Caleb and Elias grabbed the guard, disarmed him, stuffed his tie into his mouth, and bound his arms with his belt. Meanwhile, Sancho and Juliet, with the others close behind, hurried down to the far end, peering in through each glass wall as they passed.
"Here they are," Sancho said, coming to the twin rooms that corresponded with the ones they themselves had been held in. "Hey, Mike," he whispered back, "get the key."
But Elizabeth was already there, and for the third time they witnessed the unexplained powers of the half-breed child as her hand, touching the lock, coruscated and sparkled. The door swung open.
It was a confused moment as rebels and fifth columnists greeted each other. But at last Julie asked, "Where's Diana?"
"She's gone," Martin told her. He explained briefly how Diana and Zenia had asked to be put in a separate room.
"Then just before supper," Barbara went on, "three of your people came to visit her. They were just across from us, in this room here, and we could see everything."
"Couldn't hear a word, of course," Ralph said, "but they were civilians, very well dressed, like executives or politicians. They spoke with Diana for over an hour. And then they took her and Zenia away."
"I think she's finally got her lever," Julie said.
"Convertees?" Mike asked rhetorically.
"Or their agents," Julie said.
"She could coordinate an entire counterrevolutionary movement," Martin said grimly.
"I know," Mike responded, "and we've got to stop her. But first, we have to get out of this place."
The soldier who had been guarding the rebels groaned once and rolled over onto his back. He lay still for a long moment, then put his hand to his head. It felt sticky and ached so much that he wanted to throw up. His hand dropped, and he lay still again, then rolled back onto his stomach and forced himself to his knees. Blood dripped, but he didn't see it. His stomach heaved, and he spat bile.
He sat back on his haunches, and slowly the scene around him began to make sense. At first he thought he'd tied one on and had passed out. It had happened before. He'd wakened in a bathroom or an alley and not known where he was. But when he recognized the room where the rebels had been kept, he knew that that was not the explanation.
Still on his knees, he turned toward the door. He remembered then the blow to his head, though he'd been half asleep at the time, and once more he touched the bloody swelling.
His prisoners had escaped. He climbed dazedly to his feet, using the doorjamb for support. The hall beyond was empty, but then it would be. He paused a moment to vomit again and then, feeling slightly better, went down the corridor to the hall and from there to the main lobby.
The other guards were in the back of the building, but he did not go to them. His career was ruined, but maybe he could salvage something. Instead, he went to one of the doors in the connecting hallway and stepped inside.
There was a tiny office, and on the minuscule desk was a phone. He picked it up and dialed a number he knew all too well. After ten rings, somebody finally answered.
"Colonel Fletcher?" he asked.
"Yes, dammit, what is it?"
"This is Private Higgins at the sanitarium. The rebels have escaped, but they're still in the building."
Fully armed, the group of rebels and fifth columnists went cautiously back to the central lobby. Elizabeth immediately started for the front door, but Mike Donovan and Martin paused by the middle hall, from the other end of which they could hear the soft murmur of voices.
This hall led to where the sanitarium staff had had their offices, and which their captors had since adapted to their own temporary uses. There were four off-duty Guardsmen present, getting ready for the next shift. Mike, Martin, Caleb, and Elias stepped into the room, guns leveled. The guards were taken totally by surprise and surrendered without a shot being fired.
The other rebels and Visitors came in and in short order the four Guardsmen were securely bound.
"Where's Diana?" Mike asked the corporal in charge.
"I don't know," the corporal said. "We weren't given that information."
"After Diana and Zenia were put in another room," Martin said, "three civilians came to see her. Who were they?"
"I'm sorry," the corporal said. "All I know is that they had passes signed by Colonel Fletcher. That's all I was concerned about."
"And you just let these men take Diana away on their own authority?" Mike asked incredulously.
"Absolutely not. Colonel Fletcher authorized her removal by phone after the men finished talking with her. I spoke to him myself."
"Who placed the call, the colonel or these men?"
"Mr. Barnabas placed the call. I didn't listen in, but they spoke for several minutes before I was called in to receive the order placing Diana and Zenia into their custody."
"I don't like the sound of that," Caleb Taylor said. "Are you sure it was Fletcher you spoke to?"
"Yes, sir. We used recognition codes."
"But why would Fletcher want Diana taken away?" Juliet Parrish asked.
"I was not given that information," the corporal told her.
"And you have no idea who they were?" Mike insisted.
"No, sir."
"I think they were federal agents," one of the privates said.
"Shut up, Stockwell," the corporal snapped.
"I'm sorry, Tom," Stockwell said. "This whole business is wrong. These people," he nodded at his captors, both human and Visitor, "have no business being locked up in here."
"You follow your orders," the corporal said.
"Not when you know they're wrong. And I'm saying right now, for the record, that I believe keeping Mr. Donovan and Miss Parrish and these others prisoner is wrong."
"You don't know what you're talking about," another private said.
"The hell I don't. Who was it fed us a line of bullshit about the chemicals the Visitors needed? Who was it kept promising us technology and then finding excuses not to pay off? Diana, that's who. And who was it finally found a way to make the Visitors go home? Donovan and Parrish and the other rebels and fifth columnists. But do we treat them like heroes? No, we accuse them of collaboration on the one hand, and of sabotage on the other, and then we lock them up."
"You'd better shut up," the corporal growled.
"You want to get out of that chair and make me?" Stockwell taunted. The corporal, firmly bound, could only glare.
"Why do you think these men were federal agents?" Mike asked the private.
"I was on duty in the corridor when they came to talk with Diana," Stockwell said.
"That's right," Martin said. "He was standing right by their door."
"But the rooms are soundproof," Julie objected.
"But the door wasn't closed tight," Stockwell went on. "I couldn't hear all of what they said, but at one point one of the other men—his name was Stover, I think—said something about Diana's hav
ing relative freedom and power if she would share her scientific knowledge with them."
"So who's the collaborator, huh?" Caleb Taylor asked angrily. "We bring Diana in as a prisoner and our own government spirits her away."
"But surely Diana didn't agree to such a deal," Martin said. "She believes in the direct approach. Collaboration is not her style at all."
"Well," Stockwell said. "I don't know whether she agreed or not, but a few minutes later Barnabas asked to use the phone, and then we got the orders to let them take Diana and that other woman away."
"It sounds like collaboration to me," Elias said.
"I wouldn't count on it," a fifth columnist named Annie cautioned. "I've served with Diana for a long time. She's not unlikeable when you don't stand between her and her ambition. I think it's perfectly possible for her to pretend to go along with these government agents until she found some kind of handle, some way to gain the upper hand."
"You've got a good point," Martin said. "Collaboration may not be her style, but Diana's smart enough to adapt to changing circumstances, such as being held prisoner here."
"Collaboration with the venal members of your government is not the problem," Barbara said. "Diana will just string them along as she did before. The real threat is what she will do once she gains control of somebody who can wield power."
"And she won't be alone," Mike Donovan agreed. "There are other surviving Visitors already out there, worming their way into positions of authority. All Diana has to do is unify and coordinate their efforts." He turned to Stockwell. "Do you have any idea at all where they might have taken her?" he asked.
"No, I'm sorry," Stockwell said. "I know their car had California plates, but that doesn't mean much. It could have been rented."
"The first thing we've got to do," Julie told the others, "is to reorganize ourselves, find out where Ham and Robert and the rest of the group are."
"You're right," Mike agreed. "We've spent too much time here as it is."
Leaving the Guardsmen bound, the mixed group of rebels and fifth columnists went back to the lobby where Elizabeth was still waiting by the double front doors.
"All right, Elizabeth," Barbara said, picking the child up in her arms, "we can go now."
Mike Donovan and Caleb Taylor found that the front doors were unlocked and swung open easily, but before anybody could go through, spotlights out in the courtyard came on, shining brightly through the doors and the windows on either side.
"Damn," Caleb swore as he pulled the doors closed again. People fell to the floor or ducked behind furniture, expecting a fusillade of shots to follow. Instead, there was the crackle of a bullhorn being switched on.
"This is Captain Broadbent," the amplified voice announced. "We have the place completely surrounded. Throw down your weapons and come out with your hands up."
"Not again!" Elias cried. "We should have gotten out when Elizabeth first wanted us to."
"Then we wouldn't have had any clue as to where Diana might have been taken," Martin said while Barbara carried Elizabeth back out of possible lines of fire.
"A lot of good that's going to do us," Sancho Gomez said, moving so he could see out one of the windows.
"Donovan?" the bullhorn voice roared. "Parrish? Tell your people to surrender. You haven't got a chance."
"He's right, you know," came a voice from behind them. It was the guard they'd thought they'd left unconscious in their prison.
"Well, you're not going to get any satisfaction out of it," Caleb said. He strode swiftly toward the man who, losing his cocky grin, stepped backward. But the guard was not quick enough to avoid the black man's powerful blow. Caleb caught him square in the face, and this time when the guard went down, he didn't even moan.
Mike got up from his crouch, went to the door, and pushed one-half of it open just a crack. Light from the spots outside shone through in a brilliant streak across the floor. Rebels and fifth columnists who were caught in it ducked to one side.
"This is Donovan," Mike yelled through the opening. "You've made a mistake."
"Doesn't seem like it, Mr. Donovan," Broadbent's amplified voice answered.
"Diana is the one you want," Mike yelled, "not us. Three men came yesterday afternoon and took her away. She could be free by now, and she can control anybody who has undergone the Visitors' conversion process."
"You're not making much sense," Broadbent called back.
"It's like brainwashing," Mike explained. "Anybody who spent time on the Visitors' ships could have been subjected to it. And Diana can control these people directly with her mind. She's got to be stopped before she—"
"That's as may be," Braodbent said, "but I've got my orders. Colonel Fletcher was very specific. You're to be taken into custody—again—to face charges of collaboration with the enemy and sabotage of the Visitors' bases. We'll worry about Diana later."
"Man, that guy must be stupid," Sancho said. "Can't he see he's contradicting himself?"
"Maybe he can," Martin said, "but his orders seem simple enough."
"Donovan?" Broadbent called. "I'll give you one minute, and then we'll open fire."
"We've got a child in here," Mike called back.
"That's your worry," Broadbent answered.
"Do we fight?" Maggie Blodgett asked uncertainly.
"I think we have to," Juliet said. "If we're taken prisoner again, we may not have Elizabeth to unlock our doors for us."
"There's got to be some other way," Thomas Lee said. "I don't want to shoot at my own people."
"Now you know how it felt for us," Annie told him, "when we fifth columnists had to shoot at our own people."
"Annie's right," Julie said. "If you believe in what we stand for, what we're trying to do, you have to accept the consequences."
"That doesn't mean I have to like it," Lee insisted.
"No," Martin said, "it doesn't. Do you want to go out there and surrender?"
"I want to go home," Lee answered simply.
"So do I," Martin snapped. "But it doesn't look like I'm going to get there, and there might not be a home for me even if I was able to go."
"I think we'd better get ready," Mike said. "Our time's almost up."
"Is there a back door?" Elias Taylor asked suddenly. Nobody knew. "Willie, come with me." The two went off to find out how badly they were exposed from the rear.
"Open fire!" Broadbent shouted, and the shooting started.
A few bullets whizzed through the slightly open door, but the reinforced windows, though they crazed and spalled, did not shatter under the small arms fire. The walls were solid, and nobody inside was in any real danger as long as they kept out of the area in front of the door. But they had no place they could shoot from either. Mike and Sancho, keeping their heads down and firing blindly, shot out into the courtyard. There was no room for anybody else to join them.
After a moment the firing from outside ceased. The rebels could tell, from the sounds of moaning and occasional curses and cries of pain, that their shots had been more effective than those of the Guardsmen.
"They're planning something," Caleb Taylor said, coming forward to see if he could find a vantage point.
"Hey," Elias called from the back hall, "there's no back door at all. The windows are holding up, so that front door is the only way in or out of this place."
"Get out of the line of fire," Caleb called to his son. Elias realized only at that instant that he was standing in the streak of light from the open door. He dove to one side just as a burst of machine-gun fire stitched the wall behind where he'd been standing. Some of the shots must have gone down the hall behind him, because the rebels could hear one of the Guardsmen they'd left tied up back there crying out in pain.
"They're rushing from the sides," Mike yelled. He was lying well to one side and could see four or five Guardsmen running toward the door almost against the wall. He fired, saw one fall, and then the door was ripped open by other Guardsmen coming up from the other side. Cal
eb and Martin fired frantically at this second assault while Mike rolled back out of sight.
But now the troops outside had a larger target. Bullets came through in a deadly hail. The fifth columnist named Lawrence and two of the rebels were not able to find cover in time. Their one-time guard, who was now lying in the beams of the spotlight, was chewed apart by the "friendly" fire.
Still, the open door gave those inside more opportunities to fire as well. And the Visitor weapons were highly effective against two parked vehicles which exploded. The Visitor weapons also set off the amunition in several guns.
At a shouted command from Captain Broadbent, the firing outside stopped for a second time.
"This is your last chance," Broadbent said, once more using the bullhorn. "Throw down your weapons and come out with your hands up."
Mike leaned around the base of the door and fired once. There was a squawk from the bullhorn, which went silent. Then the Guardsmen outside opened fire again.
The rebels weren't able to offer much return fire. They were too busy keeping out of the broad fan of bullets coming through the door and now coming through the windows too, which, despite their strength, could not resist so determined an onslaught or so many hits. All the rebels could do was fire back often enough to discourage any further attempts to rush the door.
From where she crouched with Mike, behind a desk that would soon not offer any significant protection, Julie could see the sky beginning to grow bright beyond one of the windows.
"This may be our last morning," she said. In the face of inevitable defeat, she didn't want to fight anymore.
"We're not licked yet," Mike told her, trying to be reassuring. But he too did no have much hope.
"It's ironic," Julie said, her voice barely audible above the noise of the gunfire. "Here we are, just a few people who successfully threw off an invasion by a force of thousands of aliens with superior technology, and now we're about to be killed by just a few of our own soldiers."
"If it was only us," Mike said, "I'd give up and let them do what they could. But those soldiers out there are playing right into Diana's hands."
