by Mark Zubro
Mike told him that using the plans from Vov, Joe had built an effective companion to his own communicator. Unfettered by the rules against or severely limiting technological experimentation, Joe had made significant progress in tuning the communicator to Mike’s physiology. A year ago they had implanted a warning and protection device just under the skin behind Mike’s left ear. The implant designed for humans had been another of Vov’s inventions. Mike had asked how Joe had the scientific and medical skill to follow the scientist’s designs and develop the communicator and the implant.
Vov had been illegally experimenting on humans, but Joe and Mike decided if they could use them for more possible protections for themselves it was worth the risk. Joe had used precious scraps of metal from his own ship and from Vov’s lab to create the communicator and the implant. Before inserting it, they had tested it in numerous ways to make sure it was safe.
As for the skills necessary, Joe had put it this way. “I’ve read memories of people on your planet being forced to do science fair projects when they were children.”
“Mine was stupid. I caught and killed a bunch of insects. Then I nailed them to a board that I shellacked.”
“Well on my planet all the knowledge and experiments of your top chemists and physicists would be like a high school science fair to us.”
“I know you’re smarter than we are.”
“Maybe not smarter, but we’ve been at this a lot longer than humans, and we’ve got those implants.”
“I guess.”
“I can manipulate science, rearrange some atoms and protons and ions. That doesn’t make me smart. Vov did all the construction, designing, planning. I just mostly flipped the switch to turn it on. Remember, what took the most time was doing safety checks.”
Mike had nodded. “I guess it’s sort of like Earth. All the science may or not make us kinder, gentler, or more patient.”
Joe had taken his hand. “Our reactions are all too universal.”
Mike smiled. “In a really cosmic sense.”
Joe said, “There’s plenty of blind stupidity all over the universe: pettiness, viciousness, blind ambition, desperately trying not to die.” He had pulled Mike into his arms, kissed him, and leaned back for a moment. “The smartest thing I ever did was fall in love with you.” Their love making that night had been especially passionate.
As Joe had said at the time, Vov had left very specific notes and directions on what he’d tried and what had worked best. From everything they could tell, Mike’s implant would provide more protection than any device known on Joe’s planet. So far, they had been unable to build one to match Joe’s from scratch. Materials indigenous to Joe’s system were difficult to find or impossible to replicate. The implant was designed so that if Mike were attacked by the technology of mind control or an actual physical assault from a technological device from Joe’s planet, an aura would instantly spring up around Mike to protect him. The implant was able to put out a defense shield automatically in case Mike was unable to manipulate his communicator fast enough to set up his own.
Mike finished his explanation to Jack with the news about the probe and the need to deal with it immediately.
Jack asked, “How do these communicator/implant deals work?”
“The mental exercises are the hardest part for me. The best way I can describe it is that it’s like trying to simultaneously do problems in nuclear calculus in your head combined with the physical exertion of running a marathon on a high wire.”
“You learned all that in four years?”
“I caught on to a little bit.”
“How did you become lovers? Why did he pick you?”
“I’m not sure anyone, anywhere in the universe can explain the intricacies of love. I sure can’t. We love each other, and that’s all that counts.” Mike glanced away from the road for a second and saw Jack nod.
“Why was this criminal, Vov, trying to take over the Earth?”
“I guess being a power-mad nut is not an emotion confined to people from Earth. It seems to be a universal impulse.”
Jack was silent for several minutes. They both watched the comforting glow as they progressed at twenty-two miles an hour. Finally Jack said, “I guess the only questions left is, do Vulcans really have pointy ears.” The boy smiled.
“You’re getting used to the idea?”
“I guess.”
“I haven’t met a Vulcan. Yet.”
In his rear view mirror, Mike could see two semis coming up behind them. He was able to see in their headlights that the path of melted pavement he was leaving stayed clear for only a few moments. The backwash from his own vehicle and the storm’s swirling and drifting snow piled up behind them. Still, the way was clearer behind him than any other part of the road. When the road curved, Mike could see that there were actually three semis in line behind him. Mike sighed. He’d been afraid that the path they were creating behind them would attract a convoy at best and raise suspicion in anyone who saw it. How could it not?
However, it seemed that they weren’t interested in following Mike’s path. The first semi pulled out into the passing lane. This was still snow-packed. Mike couldn’t believe the driver would be this stupid or desperate to be driving so fast in such conditions. Why not just follow the more clear path Mike was making and ask questions later? The driver’s behavior made no sense to Mike. In his side mirror he watched it barreling toward him from his left. The second semi pulled up close behind.
Jack looked behind and to the side. “Those guys must be insane.”
The first semi pulled up next to him. That was the worst it could be. The wind from the semi’s backwash and the storm combined, caused the car to shake. Mike gripped the steering wheel. He slowed down to below ten miles an hour. The semi behind him moved in closer. The one to his left began pulling ahead.
“Why the hell is he tailgating in this kind of weather?” Mike demanded of the night. Just then they drove under an overpass. As they swept under it, the winds subsided. When they were through, the gusts took them. Mike felt the car moving beyond the path of melting snow and toward the side of the road. The right rear wheel caught on the edge of a mound that a previous plow had piled up. He felt the car begin to spin. Fortunately, the other tires were still in the clear. He fought the wheel for a few seconds but then brought the car under control. The headlights from the truck behind them made the interior of their car shine as bright as day. The blue glow was almost diminished.
Mike glanced in the mirror. The second truck began to move into the left lane to pass him. Mike looked to the truck ahead on his left, and then into the mirror again. He watched the semi behind him fish-tailing back and forth as it tried to change lanes. Mike tapped his brakes and rolled to a stop.
As the truck veered off the road, it wobbled and twirled half-way around, jack-knifed, and came to rest with its cab perpendicular to the road. The headlights now pointed off to the right into the blackness of the surrounding countryside. The lights of the third semi stopped. Mike saw the door of the third truck open. If that driver hadn’t stopped, Mike would have turned back. You couldn’t leave somebody out in this to die.
He eased his foot onto the accelerator and concentrated on the road ahead. The first semi’s tail lights were now a distant red glow.
Jack looked back at Joe’s sleeping form. “I knew there was something odd about you guys,” the teenager said.
“How so?” Mike asked.
“When you guys did weird stuff, I figured it was because you were adults or because you were gay.”
“What weird stuff?”
“All that mushy stuff.”
“That’s not weird, that’s love.”
“I never saw my mom and dad be affectionate. It seemed kind of strange, nice, but strange. No, I guess the oddest thing was the way Joe could work with a computer. Nobody I know is that good, and some of the teachers at school are experts. He could always make the computer do exactly what he wanted faster t
han anybody I know. He could get stuff from the Internet faster than I thought was ever possible. He could always solve every computer problem I had. It didn’t make me suspicious really. I thought it was great. He could play games better than anybody, and he caught on quicker than everybody.”
“At least I didn’t have to play the games.” Mike was learning a great deal from Joe and Jack about dealing with computers, but he still wasn’t anywhere near as comfortable as they were. He balked at learning the games. It wasn’t that he disapproved of the violence involved in most of them, although he did find it odd. He just didn’t think chasing phantom objects on a screen was a good way to spend his time.
“But you didn’t guess?” Mike asked.
“I’m not one of those all-knowing, all-wise teenagers from television or the movies. They have special courses you have to take to be able to do that. I’ve never qualified.”
“Courses? In my day we just assumed we knew everything.”
“You’re not that much older than I am Uncle Mike.”
“Some days I feel ancient.”
“What’s his ship like?”
“Lots of chrome and steel, and thousands of little black buttons that he can push faster than I can follow with my eyes. I think it’s another one of those mental control things he does. He mixes mind control with physical actions.”
“Aren’t you sort of doing that with that glow in front of us?” Jack asked.
“I guess.”
“What does it feel like?”
“You know the little tingling that you get when you’re near him?”
“Yeah. I always thought that was a little strange.”
“I like it,” Mike said. “I can feel a tiny bit of that tingling now. I don’t know how it works, but he’s helped me practice with that communicator every day for years. I guess it paid off.”
“Can you guys teach it to me?”
“First we’ve got to keep him from being injured any more than he has been.”
Jack blurted out his next few syllables of astonishment and started a question then stopped. He hunched forward, peered out the windshield, and pointed. “What’s that up ahead?”
Mike had already seen the dim lights flashing. “Looks like emergency vehicles.” Mike took his foot off the gas. No one was behind them. As they neared the mass of trucks and cars ahead of them, he tapped the brakes. They slowed even more. He could see emergency lights flashing beyond a long string of brake lights and headlights. Both lanes were snow packed. He stopped far behind. Within seconds the blue glow melted the snow within three feet of the car on all sides.
“Now what?” Jack asked.
“We can’t risk getting too close with this energy field, and I don’t see how we can get past. It’s too dangerous to leave the road.” The acres of snow around them were thick with impassable drifts. “Even if all the snow was melted as we drove along, we could get stuck in pastures or marooned in ditches.”
Joe sat up and leaned forward. He focused bleary eyes on the scene ahead. He whispered, “We’ve got to get past this.”
“How?” Jack asked.
“Just like your uncle,” Joe muttered. “Always with the impossible questions.”
“Are you better?” Mike asked.
“A little.”
“Could the probe be a decoy, hiding their real intentions?” Mike asked.
“Possible,” Joe sighed, “but highly unlikely.”
“Could the probe have caused the accident ahead of us?” Jack asked.
“You mean locked onto my position, calculated our route, knew there was a snow storm, caused an accident, and set this up as a trap in order to destroy me?” Joe asked.
“Sounds kind of farfetched when you say it like that,” Jack said.
“It is also possibly true,” Joe said. “I didn’t think there were probes capable of doing what this one has already done to me. I’m not sure what’s possible or impossible anymore.”
“Could someone else from your planet be here causing this?” Mike asked.
“I’ve detected no such vehicle and no such person. I presume they’d wait to examine the results from the probe.”
Mike said, “Not a lot of choice. I’ll go see what the problem is.” First, he maneuvered the car behind the last one in line. He inched his car door open, and stepped out into the storm. He left his communicator in the car. He poked his head back inside and asked, “Will the energy field remain intact without me being in the car?”
“I sure hope so,” Joe said. “I’ve got to lie down.” He accompanied the words with the action.
CHAPTER NINE
As Mike left the protection of the energy field, the wind whipped the snow around him. It was an odd sensation stepping from its protection into the full force of the storm. Even with his heavy winter clothes including scarf, hat, and gloves, he felt the cold closing in. As he trudged through the rutted snow, he pulled his scarf tighter around him. When he glanced back, he saw that the path of dry pavement behind their car was filling in.
Some of the people caught in the jam were doing as Mike, hurrying forward to try to find out what was going on. When he got to the front of the line, he joined twenty-five or thirty people standing in a clump around an accident. Many in the crowd stamped their feet and slapped their hands together to keep warm.
Mike saw a snowplow perpendicular to the flow of traffic. Its front end faced toward the ditch on the left side of the road. The front left tire hung in space over the six-foot-deep trench. The tire rotated faster then slower as the wind ebbed and gusted. The driver’s side door was open and the interior lights were on. The back two wheels of the plow rested on top of the hood of a blue Cadillac. Another car was on its roof in the ditch on the right side of the highway.
“How badly are people hurt?” Mike asked a woman standing next to him at the periphery of the crowd.
“The one from the plow is in the ditch. He’s dead. The couple in the Caddy need medical attention bad. They’re in the cop car over there.” She pointed. “I was driving the car that’s on its roof.”
“Do you need help?” Mike asked.
“I’m alive and unhurt by some miracle.”
Mike saw that the road ahead was blocked with drifts and deep snow.
A knot of people huddled together near the blade of the plow. Mike moved in closer. He listened to them discussing their predicament.
“We’ve got to move this thing. We could all die here.”
“It weighs a ton.”
“We could drop all the salt out.”
A state cop said, “I’m not going to be responsible for that.”
“Bullshit. We do it, or we’re all stuck out here to freeze to death.”
“The injured need help.”
The state cop said, “We’ve got to do things by the book.”
Someone asked, “What book? There’s no book on being trapped in a storm.”
The cop whirled around, eyes scanning the crowd. “Who said that?” he demanded.
No one said a word for an uncomfortable stretch, until Mike asked, “Do you want to be the one responsible for all these people freezing to death?”
The cop’s eyes focused on Mike. “Did somebody put you in charge?” he asked.
Mike said, “We take action, or we risk dying.”
People murmured agreement. The cop’s well-padded bulk swiveled from side to side. His eyes continued to scan the group. He gave Mike an angry glare, then said, “I better call this in.” Murmurs of discontent rose from the crowd.
“We don’t have to listen to him.”
“Yeah, but he’s got a gun.”
“He’s not the only one that has one.”
Meganvilia would say the cop had an asshole complex. Mike wasn’t sure why the cop was hostile. He wasn’t pleased that the cop’s anger had focused on him, but for the moment he was too cold, and possible danger was too close, and his husband was too ill to worry about a state cop’s peccadilloes.
Mike was near enough to the cab of the snowplow to look in the open door. He had no idea which lever to push to activate to drop the salt. A second later he was knocked sideways. Only able to partly break his fall, he got a face full of snow. From his prone position he turned his head and saw a member of the crowd leap into the cab and slam shut the door. Mike heard it lock. Seconds later the dumper started to tilt. In less than a minute the salt was piled around the Cadillac. The driver engaged the gears, but the tires on top of the hood could not get a sufficient hold to move.
“Grab on,” someone yelled.
