"None at all," Barry Stine said. "I sure would hate to use up a couple dozen people trying to figure this out. Hell, Grace, we could destroy this equipment before we ever learned how to make it work."
"Let the technicians do their job," Robert said. "Every human revival is a test, and they know that if they fail even once, if even one human doesn't make it, they'll be killed. We've got to trust them that far."
"All right," Grace Delaney said, "but I'm going to keep a damn close eye on them."
"You do that," Robert told her.
It was not yet morning, but the suspension plant was in operation. One by one, under the watchful eyes of the rebels, (he humans who had been placed in plastic coffins were being brought back to consciousness. With only a fraction of the usual staff, it was a slow process. After two hours, only ten of the one hundred people intended for the Visitors' larder had been revived. They were disoriented at first, weak and groggy, but after twenty minutes or so they were able to sit up, talk coherently if slowly, and even walk around a little.
"This is impossible," Robert Maxwell said angrily. He and I lam Tyler were sitting in the cab of one of the trucks, all of which had been brought into the loading area at the back of the plant. "We're going to have to deal with ten thousand people. It could take forever to reprocess all of them."
"It doesn't hurt people to stay in those cans, does it?" the Fixer asked. He had his seat pushed back as far as it would go so he could stretch out his legs. Fully half the rebels were similarly disposed, or in the backs of the trucks trying to catch up on their sleep.
"I don't know," Maxwell said, "but it can't do them much rood. On the ship each of those plastic coffins is hooked up to a life-support system. Without that, people could die before they get revived."
"What we're going to have to do," Fred Linker said, coming to the window on Robert's side of the truck, "is have these technicians teach some of us how to operate the equipment, so we can have all ten lines going full speed instead of just one at quarter speed."
"I think Grace and Barry are already working on that," Robert said, "but how long will that training take?"
"It may not make any difference," Ham said, stifling a yawn, "if Donovan doesn't bring the ship back. That's what I'm worried about."
Paul Overbloom, who'd been standing watch by the loading dock, came rushing over to them.
"We've got company," he said. "Lots of cops, and I don't like the way they're distributing themselves around the plant."
"Probably think there's nobody but Visitors in here," Ham said, getting out of the truck. Robert followed suit. "Where's Chris?" Tyler asked.
"I'll get him," Paul said, and went off to find Ham's colleague.
"I guess," Ham said, buckling on his holster, "we'd better go out there and let them know the score. No sense being raided by our own people."
Robert walked with him over to the loading dock, where they were met by Paul and Chris Faber. Chris pulled open one half of the sliding double door and the four of them stepped out onto the dock. The sky was still dark, but the plant's paved yard was lit by overhead lights. Their company, who were all inside the fence and arranged along its length, consisted of half a dozen motorcycle cops and three state-police cars, beside each of which stood four officers.
The police became fully alert as the four rebels came out onto the dock. One of the officers by a car, a captain who seemed to be in charge, cast wary glances at his men, then stepped forward to speak to the rebels.
"Take off your guns, please," he said, "and come down over here."
"You might explain what's going on first," Tyler said, making no move to disarm himself.
"You're trespassing on private property," the officer said, "and you're all under arrest." The other officers casually placed their hands on their sidearms.
"Look, Captain, maybe you don't understand. This is the installation the Visitors were using to kidnap people and send them up to their ship in cans."
"I wouldn't know about that," the captain said, "but I've got my orders. Now, are you going to come quietly, or is it going to have to be unpleasant?"
"It's damn well unpleasant already," Robert Maxwell said angrily. "We've got one hundred citizens in here in a state of suspended animation, and we're trying to revive them."
"You and who else?" the captain asked, trying to conceal his surprise.
"Twenty of us and eleven Visitors," Ham Tyler said. "Now, arc you going to let us go on about our business, or would you nitlier a lot of innocent people suffered because of your interference?"
The captain backed away, and the other police, digesting this hit of news, began to move to places of concealment.
"Let's get back inside," Chris muttered. Paul backed up to the door, Chris following him. Ham just turned around as if he weren't concerned, and Robert, anticipating a shot, sidled to (lie door while keeping his hand on his own gun. He pulled the sliding door shut just as one of the motorcycle cops took aim and fired.
"What the hell's going on out there?" Grace Delaney called from her place by the processing machine. All work had slopped at the sound of the shot, and every rebel was on his or her feet, guns drawn.
"We're being arrested for trespassing," Ham said sardonically. He and Chris went to a window from which they could scan the paved yard. They were joined by several others, who began to prepare to defend the place.
"Now hold it," Robert said, "if they start shooting, some of lliose shots could hit innocent people in here."
"So what do we do," Tyler demanded, "just give up? Dammit, I haven't fought the Visitors this long only to be hauled in by a bunch of local cops."
"So fight them somewhere else," Maxwell demanded, "if these machines are damaged by gunfire, we may never revive all those people on the ship."
"All right," Ham said, backing away from the window and reholstering his gun. "That's a good point." He turned to Chris. "Get everybody in the trucks. We're going to break out."
"Visitors too?" Chris asked.
"Yes," Robert said. "We'll need them later, when this is straightened out."
"How about the people we've revived?"
"We're going to leave them to the tender mercies of the highway patrol," Ham said. Chris went off to get everybody organized. "We don't have room for them," Ham explained to Robert, "and the ones still in cans will be better off here."
"But those people are helpless," Robert protested.
"The cops will see that," Ham said, and turned to Fred Linker who was climbing into the driver's seat of one of the five trucks. "You take the Visitors back to the lighthouse," he said. "The rest of us will have to find a new base. We'll let you know where it is as soon as we can." -
"Okay," Fred said. "I think Grace and Barry ought to come along too. They're the only ones who have any idea how this stuff works."
"Good idea," Ham said. He grabbed Paul Overbloom as he came by. "Go to a window and talk to those people out there," he told him. "Just keep them occupied so they don't come charging in shooting." Paul nodded, then the Fixer started directing people to the various vehicles.
When everybody was sorted out to Ham's satisfaction, he came back to Fred's truck. "You first," he said. "They'll be surprised, and you should be able to get clear before they start shooting." Fred nodded and started his engine.
"All right, Chris," he called to his colleague, who was standing by Paul, who was still stalling the cops. "Robert and I will be in the last truck. When Fred is clear, start shooting. Just make those cops keep their heads down. Then you pile in when we go by."
"Gotcha," Chris said. Two other rebels went to the main doors, and on Fred's signal, pulled them aside. Overbloom accelerated as hard as he could, leaving rubber on the plant floor. The police were indeed taken by suiprise and had to jump out of Fred's way as he roared toward the gate, knocking over two motorcycles as he passed through. Then Chris, Paul, and the two rebels at the door started shooting.
The second truck followed seconds after
the first, then the third and the fourth. The police, now disorganized and forced to take cover by the shooting from ihside the plant, fired several times at the trucks as they sped past, but return fire from the rebels riding in the vehicles kept them from being effective. Then Tyler gunned his engine, drove toward the door, hesitated just a second as the last four rebels climbed in back, then came out at full speed. Several police bullets hit the side of the truck as they passed through the gate, but none of the rebels were hit.
A half hour later, having thrown off pursuit, the convoy of trucks pulled over at the highway interchange where they would split up. The sun was just coming up, shining red fire off the windshields of several cars that had been abandoned by the side of the road. Ham and Robert had decided on a new base, and Robert Maxwell got out to tell Fred Linker where they would be.
"The San Pedro Municipal Building is right in the middle of town," he said. "When you get back to the lighthouse, see if you can't have Linda and Alice rig us a communicator for you to bring down, so we can keep in touch."
"I'll do that," Fred said. Then he started his engine again and rolled off up the on ramp.
Ham Tyler and Chris Faber were standing beside the truck when Robert got back. "I'll see you at the base a little later," Ham said.
"Where are you going?"
"I want to get hold of the network, to see if I can find out who gave orders to have us arrested," Ham explained. "Calling us trespassers was just an excuse." He went over to one of the abandoned cars and looked in the driver's seat. "Think you can get this started?" he asked Chris.
"Unless it's out of gas," the large man said.
"Be careful," Robert told Ham as Chris popped the hood and started to fiddle inside.
"You too," Ham said, shaking his hand.
Then Robert got in behind the wheel of his truck, and the caravan started moving again.
Chapter 4
The three-mile-diameter disk of the alien Mother Ship that had once floated over Los Angeles now hung in space between the Earth and the moon, which, from this position, seemed of equal size. Perhaps a mile off, a mere sand-grain by comparison, was Diana's escape shuttle. Though both craft seemed to be motionless in relation to each other, they were in fact speeding toward the moon, which imperceptibly grew larger as the moments passed.
From the hollowed-out underbody of the Mother Ship, two more shuttles dropped into the blackness of space. The central modules of these two craft were different from those in which passengers or cargo were carried. Less bulky, each sported a thick, sturdy fin on either side, the fins ending in nearly spherical knobs a yard in diameter.
The two tug shuttles approached Diana's craft, one on either side, slowing cautiously as they came within firing range. The escape shuttle did not respond to them but just hung there, its ports dark. The tugs drifted closer now, aligning themselves beside the escape shuttle, pointing in the same direction. Then once more they moved, slipping sideways until the knobs nearest the escape shuttle nearly touched it. There was a sudden crackling spark, silent in the airlessness, as the magnetic clamps took hold of Diana's craft. Still there was no response from the dark shuttle.
As a unit, the three vehicles, held together by powerful magnetic forces, turned and headed back toward the Mother Ship. Their movement was slightly clumsy, with a tendency to yaw, but they made it to the docking bay and floated in.
Inside, the three shuttles settled down to the deck. The two escort tugs then disengaged with more sparks, now loud in the atmosphere of the bay. The tugs lifted up a foot, slid to the side, and settled down again.
Standing well clear of the three shuttles, Mike Donovan, Juliet Parrish, and Maggie Blodgett drew their sidearms. As they approached Diana's craft, the pilots of the two tugs, the fifth columnists Aaron and Peter, disembarked from their craft and joined them.
"She's been without power for a long time," Peter said as they met at the escape craft's port.
"Do you think she's dead?" Julie asked as Aaron touched the port's external lock.
"There's a good chance," Peter said, "but from suffocation rather than cold."
The port didn't open. "There's not enough power left even for that," Aaron said. The two fifth columnists had to manually force the port open before they could go inside.
The air in the escape craft smelled bad, depleted, and they had to wait a moment until the air from the docking bay had had a chance to replace that in the shuttle. Then with Mike and Julie in the lead, the five went forward into the cockpit.
Though her command chair was turned away from them, facing the shuttle's main ports, they could see Diana's arms, hanging limply from either side. Mike went cautiously up to her and spoke.
"Diana?" There was no response. He reached out and touched her shoulder "God, she's frozen," he exclaimed. With Julie to help, he undid her seat belt and pulled her out of the command chair. Maggie and Peter took hold of her upper torso while Mike and Julie took her legs. She was very cold, and stiff. They laid her down near the hatch where Aaron could take a look at her.
"She's still alive," he said after touching her throat and abdomen, "but just barely. We'd better get her to the infirmary right away."
Mike leaned out of the hatch. "Got that stretcher?" he called.
"Right here," William answered from outside. He wheeled the medical cart up to the hatch and held it in place while the others moved Diana onto it. Then Julie jumped down from the shuttle and took an antitoxin pill from a pocket. Peter forced Diana's mouth open while Juliet dropped in the pill, then massaged the unconscious woman's throat until she swallowed involuntarily.
"Can't have her dying on us now," Maggie Blodgett said
grimly.
"That would hardly be satisfactory," Donovan agreed. "In the first place, she's going to stand trial. But more important, she knows things we need to know."
"Such as how to deconvert people," Julie said.
"The only question is," Maggie asked, "will she tell us anything?"
Off to one side of the docking bay, partially concealed by other shuttles, three Visitor trustees stood watching. As had been done with other trustees, the sleeves had been torn off their uniforms just above their elbows to distinguish them from known fifth columnists. They stepped back farther out of sight as Diana's stretcher was wheeled away.
"I think she's alive," Richard said. "What do you think they're going to do with her?"
"I don't know," Gretchen answered, "but I think I can find out."
"If they catch you spying," Valery cautioned, "they'll lock you up with the others."
"I'll be careful. But she's our commander; after all."
"You're not thinking of trying to rescue her?" Richard asked.
Gretchen gave him a hard glance. "At least not until we're closer to Earth and have a chance of getting away."
"But she wanted to destroy Earth," Richard protested. "She's a criminal, and probably insane."
"That's as may be. I know where my loyalty lies." She turned to Valery. "How about you?"
"I'm not very fond of Diana," Valery said slowly, "but she is, after all, one of our race."
"Earth humans are people too," Richard said, "even if they are mammals."
"Even?" Valery snapped. "We're not talking about scale patterns, Richard, we're talking about a very fundamental difference. No, I don't think I owe these relavish any allegiance."
"In spite of what you told Peter and Martin?"
"In spite of that," Valery said. She and Gretchen looked at him meaningfully.
The infirmary room was a special one that they'd set up just for this occasion. The doors could not be opened from the inside, and there were restraints on the bed. The cabinets were all securely locked, and the ventilation hatches were welded in place.
The door opened and William entered, towing Diana's stretcher, with Aaron pushing from behind. Mike Donovan and Juliet Parrish followed soon after. The four lifted Diana from the stretcher, placed here on the bed, and fastened
straps across her arms and legs. Then Aaron took a key and unlocked a closet. Inside was a monitoring device on a small wheeled table. He roiled this over to the bed and started attaching probes to Diana's head, throat, chest, and abdomen.
Aaron explained the purpose of each connection as he made it, in terms that Julie understood but that Donovan and William found totally incomprehensible. Julie was fascinated by the procedure, but when she asked Aaron how the monitoring machine worked, he was unable to answer.
"I'm only a medical assistant," he said. "It would take a doctor and an electronics expert to explain this machine to you. I'm sorry."
"But you know how to read the device?" Mike asked.
"In large part. I couldn't identify most of the less common diseases, but I should be able to tell you if Diana's all right or not."
He switched on the machine. Needles on an array of dials moved, some of them into the green zone at the left. "Those are danger areas," he explained. "Our dials read the opposite of yours."
There was also a bank of lights, some yellow, some blue, some orange. A few lights were unlit. "Those are for tests we're not doing," Aaron went on. "The blue means stable, the orange means there's a problem, and the yellow means marginal." He flipped more switches and watched as the lights changed colors and the needles changed position.
"It's just like I figured," he went on. "Simple anoxia complicated by mild supercooling." He flipped switches again. "She's already recovering and should regain consciousness in a few minutes."
"Is there anything we should do?" Julie asked. "Administer oxygen, heat?"
"I don't think it will be necessary," Aaron told her. "Besides, I'm not quite sure of the procedure."
The door opened and Caleb Taylor came in. "I think we've got trouble," he said. "One of the trustees, I think his name was Richard, was found murdered down in the docking bay a few minutes ago."
"What happened?" Juliet asked. "Do you know who did it?"
"He was strangled," Caleb said, "and his neck was broken. As for who, nobody's saying, of course, though I think some of them might know the truth. Other than the murderers, I mean."
V03 - The Pursuit of Diana Page 5
