She gaped at him, “What now?”
“The big difference between you and us is that we need heat and plenty of CO2. You? You thrive in the cold with lots of oxygen. We all have reptilian DNA, but in us it is more switched on, activated. It makes us cold-blooded, in both senses of the word.”
“So you engineered climate change so you could come back?”
“It took centuries. CO2 is easy to get rid off, but so hard to produce enough to make a planet cozy.”
“You could stop global warming?”
“In about thirty minutes.”
“How?”
He sighed, “I’ll show you later. Stella, tell me, how can I catch this rebel? Will you help me?”
She gaped. “You are serious, aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
“What will you give me if I tell you?”
He looked a little surprised and thought about it. A little gleam of mischievous cunning entered his eyes. “I know what you want, my little wildcat. I’ll let you stay with me, as my personal love slave.”
She laughed, then pointed at him with a knowing smile plastered all over her face. “You!” she said, “You are good! You are good! Man, you read me like a book. OK, here’s what you do…”
Seven
“You need to see this.”
Erickson crossed the room to where Bernie was sitting at his laptop. “What?”
Bernie pointed at the screen. There was a CNN news broadcast. Dee Ross, an Olympian-friendly journalist who had been made the main anchor of CNN’s domestic news coverage since the arrival of the ships, was standing in front of the UN Building on First Avenue in New York City, while in the background a couple of shuttles were maneuvering a large black box into position. It was a cube, about thirty foot high and totally featureless.
Dee Ross was pulling the hair from her face as a strong wind whipped in off the river.
“All traffic has been stopped on First Avenue, and the exact nature of the operation is not yet known. But Governor Thorvall has assured us that he will, shortly, be making a statement to the press. All we know so far is that this…” She gestured back at it as it settled in the broad courtyard outside the building. “This box is of major importance in the developing relationship between the Olympians and what they like to call their ‘younger brothers’, us humans!”
Erickson pulled up a chair and sat. “What the fuck…?”
Dee Ross was looking like she might be about to cream her pants with excitement as she said, “Oh, but her is Governor Thorvall himself! Governor, what an honor to welcome you onto our show,”
Thorvall’s tall, athletic form appeared on the screen in what looked like a very expensive Italian suit. He peered curiously into the camera, then grinned at Dee.
“Hi, Dee. Say, Dee Ross, doesn’t that spell dross? You should really change your name.” He waited for a beat, then burst out laughing. She laughed too, though she looked like she wanted to cry. He placed his hand gently on her shoulder and laughingly said, “No. Seriously. You should. But as to this ‘box’,” he turned and smiled into the camera, “We are aware that, since our arrival, life has changed on this planet in many ways, and not everybody is happy about it. If you are ugly, too fat, too skinny, not shapely or just plain, well, boring to look at, you haven’t got a problem. But if you are a gorgeous chick, then I am afraid we have turned your life a little upside down. Before, you would have been thinking in terms of a career in Hollywood, as a supermodel, or even just a high-class hooker -” he turned to Dee whose eyes were like dinner plates, “I’ve heard some of those babes take home five grand a night. And you don’t even need to be smart. Could be a trade up for you, Dee Ross.” He laughed again and looked back into the camera. “What we have offered you, if you are a gorgeous chick, is a life of unmitigated pleasure, with no effort or cost being required on your part. Every woman’s dream, you would think. But humans are nothing if not complicated, am I right Dross?”
He turned to grin at her. She said, “Eh?”
“Got it in one. Eh? It is. That was the collective response of the entire female population of the planet – or at least those you’d want to look at. ‘Eh?’ So we have decided to make things a little easier for you all. We are renaming the planet! I mean, how boring is ‘Earth’, right? You may as well call it dirt. Like you, your parents calling you dross. We are renaming the planet, Sex Globe. Yeah, Baby! Sex Globe, and this box here, as of midnight tomorrow, is going to start emitting a frequency all over the northern hemisphere that will reduce your brain waves to the receptive alpha level and simultaneously stimulate the production of dopamine, estrogen and various other pleasure hormones so that you will all feel constantly and perpetually happy and sexy! How good am I? Huh? Huh? How good am I?”
Dee Ross said, “Oh, my God…!”
“You like it, huh? You like that, Dee? Change your name, baby. Call yourself Zeeta, or Vee Ginah, Come here!”
And taking her in his arms he gave her a long, deep kiss, right there in front of the camera. He let her go and she staggered back, tottering on her high heels. Thorvall winked into the camera, “No more false teeth, ladies, no more heavy glasses and woolen coats. You are going to be queuing up in your thongs from now on.”
And so saying, he strode away and Dee Ross staggered back in front of the camera. This is, Dee…Vee… handing you back to the studio…”
Erickson said, “I’m going to kill that bloke.”
The rest had gathered around while Thorvall had been speaking. Alvarez looked worried. “Do you think it’s true?”
Erickson looked at her and spread his hands. “The fuck should I know? With their technology…” he looked around the room. “Where’s fuckin’ Olaf? Oi! Olaf! Come here you dirty alien bastard!”
Olaf came over shaking his head. “It’s not nice you talk to me like that.”
“This fuckin’ box. Is it for real?”
Olaf pulled a face and shrugged. “I never heard of nussing like zis before. Maybe it is GFART, maybe it isn’t, but…”
Bernie was shaking his head. “Just because you raise the estrogen and dopamine levels in the blood it doesn’t mean you’re going to get horny. It just means your emotions are going to change a lot and quick…”
Olaf was nodding, “One minute happy, one minute sad, zen you wanting to kiiiill somebody…!”
Erickosn said, “So business as fuckin’ usual, then.”
Alvarez slapped him across the back of the head, “Shut your mouth you male chauvinist, Limy son of a bitch!”
“It’s fuckin started already!”
They all started laughing, even Olaf who was a bit bemused. Finally Erickson said, “I’m going down there. I want to look at the box, and if it seems to be for real, I’ll destroy it.”
Alvarez said, “It could be a trap.”
“Bit elaborate…?”
Olaf shook his head. “For Thorvall? Nay. Thorvall is mad like a person who wears a hat.”
Erickson grinned. “Mad as a hatter.”
“Yuh. I also know zis one, crazy like a box full of frogs. Zat is quite funny.”
Erickson stood, rasping his palm over his stubble. “Why stop there? If we’re in the city, risking our fuckin’ necks, let’s do something worthwhile.”
Clay said, “Cool. Like what?”
Erickson turned and looked at Olaf. “All right, we let them know we have one of theirs, and we offer to trade him back for the one of ours they captured…”
Clay said, “You keep saying that, man, but they ain’t captured none of us.”
“Bli’me, Again? But they don’t fuckin’ know that, do they? How many women they got up there? Ten thousand, twenty thousand? How many of them do you reckon are called Betty Brown, Carol Smith or Sonia Alvarez?”
Clay nodded. “A lot. So what’s your plan?”
Olaf said, “I don’t want to go back…”
Erickson said, “I’m thinking. OK, so we can get inside, me, Bernie, Alvarez and Cl
ay. We make out like we are low-level, just carrying a message. We come to make an offer. We give you Olaf back if you give us…um…Jane Doe.”
“I don’t want go back…please…”
“OK, then what?” It was Alvarez.
“Then, OK, what is the one thing they will most expect us to do?”
“Plant bomb, but please, I do not want go back…”
“A bomb! So that is the one thing we will not do. Olaf, what is the last thing they would expect us to do?”
He blew through his lips, “Pfffffff…abducting Thorvall…”
“Beautiful…”
“I don’t want go back…”
“You’re not going back, we’re fuckin’ keeping you! Now gather round boys and girls. Here is the plan. We get a message to Thorvall, via Miss Dross…”
Eight
It was dark and First Avenue was empty of traffic, since Governor Thorvall had had it sealed. In the courtyard of the United Nations, the strange black cube stood stark and ominous, reflecting the limpid light of the spots that illuminated the monolithic building. From the steps that led up to East 43rd Street, Erickson watched. Though truth be told, there was nothing to watch. The UN had been empty for a year, First Avenue was cut off and at this time of night there was no need for any pedestrians to be in the area. So he watched stillness, and listened to the odd barge mournfully moaning on the water.
He slipped down the steps and dodged into the trees in the Ralph Bunche Park. He scanned up and down the avenue, scanned the sky. Still nothing. Using night vision goggles he scanned the guards’ hut and the courtyard beyond the iron rail. Nothing. He sprinted across the road, clambered over the rail and dropped onto the other side. He slipped into the shadows and waited, listening. Nothing.
It was too damned easy. All his alarm bells were going, but hard as he tried, he couldn’t see a trap. He approached the cube. It was impossible to stay completely in shadow, but there didn’t seem to be a damned soul in the whole area to hide from. He stood in front of the great black block and ran his hands over it. It was perfectly smooth and featureless. He kept going round the side, running his fingers over every available inch. There was nothing. His mind was racing. What did it mean? He came to the back and then there was a soft hiss and a panel slid open. Light flooded out.
He flattened himself against the side and waited.
Again, nothing. He inched toward the opening. All his training, everything he had ever learned, every maxim that had ever been drummed into him was telling him to abort. He was walking into a trap. He was playing their game without knowing the rules.
But their game, he told himself, was right now the only game. He had no choice but to play it. He peered round the opening. It was very white and very empty. Opposite there was a hatch, about five foot high and two foot across. It had a handle. A voice in his head was saying that maybe, just maybe, these arrogant bastards were so full of themselves that their story was actually true. Maybe this was what they said it was. Maybe they had actually bought his story about wanting to exchange hostages. And their security focus was on the exchange instead of on him.
It was a judgment call. There was a 50/50 chance it was a trap and no way of knowing for sure. He stepped in. He had to. And the door slammed closed behind him.
Thirty seconds later the lights went out, and in the darkness he smiled.
In Central Park, Alvarez, Ben and Clay pulled onto the Sheep Meadow in one of the captured Jeeps with the laser cannon on it. The light from their headlamps picked out a shuttle in the middle of the meadow. They approached it at a steady twenty MPH and pulled up fifty yards away.
The doors of the shuttle opened. Commander Vulcan and a dozen armed men in black combat uniform streamed out and took up positions training their weapons on the Jeep. The commander shaded his eyes with his hand.
Alvarez swung down and raised her voice, “We are here to negotiate. I have a message from our commander.”
Commander Vulcan said, “We have received the message via Ms Dee Ross.”
“Before we go any further, my commander wants you to understand that we are of no value to the freedom fighters, and if you take us he will not negotiate to recover us. We are here only as messengers.”
“That is understood. What makes you think that we are interested in recovering Olaf Olafsen?”
Alvarez snorted and an insolent smile crawled up one side of her face. “How about the fact that you’re here?”
“Who is the woman you want in exchange?”
There had been a lot of debate as to what name to choose. In the end Erickson had decided on a statistical play. The 50th most common fist name for a girl, and the fifth most common surname, that gave them a very high probability of getting someone, without arousing suspicion. That name was…
“Stella Williams.”
Commander Vulcan went very still. After a moment he repeated, “Stella Williams?”
“Yeah. We want to come up and see she’s alive and well. If she’s OK, then we arrange the swap.”
The distant whine of a shuttle made Alvarez glance up. High above her, dimply illuminated by the glow of the city, she saw a small craft accelerating up towards the mother ship. Suspended beneath it was a large black object. In her heart she knew it was the cube. She felt a deep pit of anxiety and fear. Vulcan was watching her intently. She said, “You gonna stand there staring at me all night or are we going to go and see Stella?”
He nodded towards the jeep. “We want the laser cannon back.”
She grinned back at Clay who was sitting at the controls of the cannon. She said, “Yeah, sure, I know if you ask Clay nicely, he’ll let you take it home and show your mommy. Stop fucking with me, Commander. Let’s go.”
She and Bernie walked across the meadow towards the shuttle. Clay watched them climb in and take off up toward the mother ship. He knew they were all going to die that night. He had no doubt in his mind at all. But he also knew two other things with absolute certainty. The first was that nobody ever got out of life alive, and if you had to die, it was better to die on your feet than on your fucking knees.
The other thing he knew with absolute certainty, was that he was often wrong about the things he was absolutely certain about. So he rolled a joint and relaxed, enjoying the night air in the park. Any son of a bitch tried to take his laser cannon from him tonight, was going to die.
That was a certainty he was certain of.
At that moment Stella had her feet on the windowsill and was looking down at the extraordinary night view of New York and New England spread out at her feet. To the south she believed she could see as far as DC. It was stunning. The door hissed open and Thorvall walked in. He stood watching her, pinching his lower lip, walking away and then walking back again, staring at her.
“What’s eating you, Thorvall? You feeling horny again? I told you no already.”
“No, Stella. It is not that. You told me your surname was Vegas.”
“Yeah. So what?”
“It is an improbable name. Statistically rare.”
She shrugged. “It’s not my real name. It’s my professional name. I’m an online astrologer. You can’t call yourself Smith or Jones or…”
She shook her head and spread her hands. He said, “…Williams?”
“Yeah, or Williams.”
“But your real, birth name is Williams.”
She turned to look at him, aware something was going down. She had no idea where her advantage lay - in saying it was or it wasn’t. So she said, “What if it is?”
“Why did you not tell me you were highly placed in the Resistance?”
She spluttered. “Me? Are you kidding?”
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Stella. I am wounded that you have betrayed me. Do not compound it now by insulting my intelligence.”
She got to her feet and gaped at him. “you are wounded? You are wounded? You are wounded? Really? Seriously? You-are-wounded?”
“Stop saying that.”
/>
She started several sentences, touching her fingertips to her head, but was unable to finish any of them, “You…? Wha…? How…?”
“They have sent a delegation to negotiate for your release. They offer one of our captured men in return for you. They are prepared to risk the lives of three fighters for you. You are highly valued. After your display earlier, I can see why.”
She had that feeling like when your cat suddenly looks at you, narrows its eyes and says, “Nobody will believe you, you know…”
He walked to the huge, panoramic window and looked down. “I thought we had connected. I thought our encounter earlier… They way you kissed me, I thought you had felt what I had felt...”
“What, an orgasm? Sure, but that don’t mean jack, Thorvall. That’s biology…” She stopped because she saw him wince. She felt a strange twist inside her that was dangerously close to compassion. She said, “Oh-my-God…! You poor motherfucker, you got stung!”
“Please, just because it was nothing more than sex to you is no reason to demean what I felt. It was the first time for me. I had never felt that feeling before… We don’t.”
“Holly shit.”
“Now…” He turned to face her. “Now you shall go, and I…” He shrugged. “I don’t know what I shall do. I have a sense of loss. I feel…” his bottom lip curled. “I feel very sad…”
“Oh for crying out loud!”
He made a face that was trying hard to explain something, with his eyebrows all the way up and his eyes wide open. His mouth kept working but the only sounds that came out were little squeaks as the tears rolled down his cheeks. “I… we… it was… I thought…”
Stella threw her hands in the air. “Did all the fucking planets just start going backwards? What the fuck? Suddenly I am Mata Fucking Hari?”
There was a tap at the door.
Thorvall squeaked, “Come!” coughed and said again in a gruff voice, “Come!”
The door opened and a guard saluted.
“Governor, the shuttle with the delegation has arrived. Also the cube.”
Taken Hostage Page 14
