The President walked from the residence to the West Wing with a bounce in his step. His assistant-a woman with strawberry hair and a scar-offered a cup of coffee, that morning's D.C. Post, and a smile.
"Good morning, Mr. President."
Oh how sweet that sounds.
She warned, "Your new Press Secretary, Jim Huffman, was cornered by reporters this morning and there's something you should see on page two; a lot of talk about the military maybe trying some kind of, well," she whispered, "trying to take over."
Evan drew a serious face and responded, "Well, they'll have to get by you first."
His smile returned. She blinked bashfully and sat behind her desk.
Evan, of course, did not worry about the rumblings of a military takeover because he directed those rumblings with the skill of a concert pianist.
The window behind his assistant offered a view of the rose garden's rich colors. The President enjoyed that view, sipped the piping-hot java, and allowed himself a moment of self-congratulations in regards to the political concerto he played in the papers.
His assistant grabbed his attention once more as she read from a stack of notes. The music in Evan's head turned a sour note. "Lots of messages for you, Mr. President. First, Senator Trimble called yesterday while you were playing tennis and wanted to set up a meeting. She said she has not heard from you on the creation of a committee to begin drafting a new Constitution."
"The Senator has to learn patience."
"Also, General Brewer sent a fax from the estate. He has the report you wanted on future force deployments and recruitment, but he's confused about the level of detail you need."
Evan generated more busy work for the neutered General: "Um, yes, tell him I need exacting detail. I want all the nuts and bolts. That should keep him busy for another week or so."
"Yes, Mr. President. Also, Secretary Hutch called. He said something about you needing to give a contract to the Boston Laborers Guild." "What? I've already given them four contracts! I can't give all the work to his friends." "Of course not, Mr. President. Would you like me to call him?" He gulped a mouthful of coffee. It did not taste as good as it had on first sip. "No. But our Labor Secretary needs to think in bigger terms than paying off his buddies."
"I imagine so, Mr. President. Also, Senator Whitman called. Oh yes, this had to do with Senator Trimble, too. He says that Senator Trimble is circulating a petition to demand a Constitutional convention in thirty days. Apparently she's planning a press conference-"
Evan slammed the coffee cup on her desktop. A blob of the drink splashed out. The President's face turned nearly as red as the roses waving in the breeze outside the window.
How dare she! I am the President!
Evan regained control, changing from quick jab-like breaths to deep inhales followed by slow exhales. "I'm sorry," he straightened his tie. "I seem to have spilled my coffee. Would you be so kind as to clean that up?" She nodded, slowly. The phone buzzed once…twice… "Are you going to answer that, or shall I?" That broke the trance. She answered the phone.
"W-white house. President Godfrey's office. Yes, he is here," she hit the hold button. "It's Director Roos for you, sir."
Evan walked into the Oval office saying, "I'll take it in here."
The President closed the door and entered his fiefdom. He kept the office perfectly clean, his desk clear, and the fixtures well-dusted. Evan believed in appearances and he refused to appear anything other than organized, confident, and in control. Nonetheless, before he answered the phone he walked to the window, closed his eyes, and held his hands out to either side. "Here I am. If you're going to kill me today, get it over with." He waited. A bird chirped. As with the day before, and the day before that, no assassin's bullet came.
Evan dropped his arms, stood behind his desk, and pushed the speaker button on the phone. He listened to Roos while scanning the front page of the paper. The dateline read: Tuesday, July 1 ^ st. The headline exclaimed: MILITARY OPPOSES FORCE DRAWDOWN.
"Go ahead, Ray. I'm alone in the office."
"Is that so? Good, but there is nothing new to report. I think our friends are no longer in Miami. Probably a good idea to have that Gannon fellow start the ball rolling on clean up."
"I spoke to Brad last night. He sent a message. I understand that his associates our going to…" Evan searched for the right word. "…they are going to start erasing things very soon. I understand it to be a big deal for them, so it may take a few days."
"Well, that's all right and fine," Roos answered, "but if our friends decide to take a trip south of the border before then, there just may be more flies in the ointment, if you follow."
Evan grew impatient. His frustration over Roos' failure to kill Gordon Knox and Nina Forest in Miami last Friday boiled over.
"If you squashed those flies when you had a chance then they wouldn't still be out there."
"A man can't argue with the truth, no sir. I'm not trying to put a bee in your bonnet but I sure would feel better if Gannon's buddies would get the job over with. Seems to me they're dragging this out, maybe to put you over a barrel, if you see my meaning."
Evan had thought of that. Until the assassination was complete a shadow loomed over his shoulder. The last time power seemed in his grasp he experienced a drastic reversal. This time he had moved fast, consolidating his grip; this time he had allies and control.
Nonetheless, it remained possible that Gannon's associates intentionally desired to make Evan feel uncomfortable over the lack of closure. If things did not progress, he might have to enlist a team of Internal Security paramilitary to finish the job. Evan pushed away those thoughts with a grunt. "What's that, Mr. President?" "You just get your job done and let me worry about the rest."
"I know that, yessir. But if things go down the tubes like three years ago, well it ain't just going to be your head on the chopping block, if you get my meaning."
–
Gordon Knox lurked in a dark corner of the den, next to a futon and behind a potted plant. He stood there so casually Nina wondered how often he hid in rooms behind potted plants during his career.
Nina attempted more drastic measures to remain unseen, but failed to find a suitable closet or trunk in which to hide. Worse, the rifle slung on her shoulder bumped into a bookcase with a thump. Thankfully that thump occurred before Dr. Maple and his two I.S. escorts entered the brick town home. She settled on crouching behind the burled walnut Spinet desk.
The two intruders listened to a series of muffled beeps as the newcomers punched in the appropriate deactivation codes on the home's security system keypad, unaware that security had already been breached. A moment later, a black man in a sport jacket appeared in the open doorway to the den and surveyed his surroundings. His shadow blocked what little light sneaked in from the hall.
"It's clear," the agent said unenthusiastically and waved his hand toward the front door.
"Um, thank you," muttered Dr. Maple.
The agent disappeared from the den doorway, joined his comrade at the front and told their charge, "We'll be outside if you need anything."
"Yes, um, thank you," Nina and Gordon heard the former council member answer. A solid thud from the closing of the front door followed that reply.
Maple rummaged about in the hallway before walking into the den. The fifty-something physician with a spot of thinning hair on his crown approached the small desk with his attention focused on papers in his hand.
Nina stood and turned on the desk lamp. The sudden illumination did not startle the doctor, it confused him. He did not become startled until he saw the blond woman in soldier's garb. The papers in his hands dropped, as did his mouth. He turned fast to face a bald man with a bushy mustache in a black polo shirt.
"Hello, Doctor Maple."
The new administration's Director of Health and Human Services used an index finger to push his drooping eye glasses higher on his nose. It appeared as if he tried to cry out, but could not find any oxygen.
"Now don't say a word, Doctor," Gordon warned. "I spent the last few days hopping trains, riding in pickup truck beds, and stealing cars. To tell the truth, D.C., puts me in a bad mood to begin with anyway. So let's not have any unpleasantness." Maple mumbled, "It's…it's true." "What's true?" Nina asked. "The President warned us. Some people think that you-um, Mr. Knox-faked your death to, well, um…" Knox's face twisted as he demanded, "To do what? Tell me, Doctor." "Uh, um, to, well, that you are a part of, well, a conspiracy by the military and, um…"
Knox finished for the bumbling man, "A military and intelligence conspiracy to overthrow the civilian government, is that it?"
Maple nodded fast. His glasses nearly slipped off.
"Now isn't that ironic," Knox smiled. "Got to hand it to Evan. He knows that the best way to lie is to hide a lie in a sea of truth."
"So what?" Nina said. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"He's laying the groundwork. He's going to start seeing who in the government he can trust. Those he has any misgivings about will be investigated for being part of this phantom conspiracy. Very Stalin-like. Good for him."
Maple tried desperately to find courage. "I'm warning you. There are two, um, Internal Security guards outside. Go away before they find you here."
That courage faded when Gordon's eyes met the doctor's. The latter looked to the floor.
Knox said, "Doctor Maple, you should be more worried about those guards than us. Why do you think they're out there? To protect you? Ha!" He leaned close and whispered, "When the time comes that Evan thinks he can get away with it, those two guards are going to drive you to the middle of nowhere and put a bullet in your head, Doctor."
"Nonsense!"
"They will concoct a story about how this 'conspiracy' is killing off members of the new administration. Or maybe they'll say you were a part of that conspiracy. I would not be surprised if Dante Jones meets the same fate, sooner or later. Don't worry, for every murder Evan will find someone to blame."
"You are being, um, foolish. You're just trying to scare me."
"Oh, Doctor, you s hould be scared. You see, you're the weak link in the master plan. Why I'll bet you're the one Evan has the most doubts about. In fact, you would be dead already if not for Evan's hatred for me. He wanted to kill me for spite, but you he needs dead to protect his tracks. Problem for him-and lucky for you-is that so many big names dropping like flies that fast would cause way too many questions; too many questions for even the President's friends to cover up. But give it time, Doctor. Give it time." Maple's head swiveled from Gordon to Nina and back again. "Plan? Master, um, plan? I don't know what you're talking about." "Look me in the eye, Doctor. Yes, that's good. Now tell me, did you have anything to do with Trevor's murder?" The doctor closed his eyes and answered, "Of course not. That is ridiculous."
"Now Doctor, here is another interesting bit about lying. If you're going to tell a lie, don't close your eyes. It's a dead-set giveaway." "You…you're crazy. Trevor was killed by aliens." "That's right. He got blasted at close range by an energy weapon." "Yes, that is correct."
"You did the autopsy yourself, right Doctor? I.S. got hold of you real quick so that maybe you could save him. They brought Trevor right to you. Was he alive when he got to you?"
"No. I wanted to try and, um, save him but he was gone by the time he got to the hospital. There was, you know, nothing I could do." Maple cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses.
"Yes, what a shame," Gordon nodded. "Do you know where the Captain and I were last night? We spent some time at the hospital morgue. Yes, that's right, the place where you personally performed the autopsy. In fact, it took some doing and, well, a little poking around but we caught a glimpse of the autopsy files."
Again, Maple alternated glances between the two intruders. Nina kept her angry blue eyes focused on the little man. Gordon smiled in a vile manner.
"You know, I find it interesting that the autopsy did not contain any tissue samples, no blood samples, nothing. No physical evidence from the body."
"Well, um, that was not, um, necessary because the cause of death was obvious. A, um, direct hit in the chest from an energy-" Gordon spoke over the doctor's explanation as if his guilt had already been established. "Now I'm not saying that you killed Trevor personally, Doctor. I-" "Killed…him? Me?"
"— I really want to give you the benefit of the doubt on this, but it's tough with all the coincidences. How you were in the right place at the exact time Trevor needed medical attention. How you declared the body off-limits until after it was prepared for the memorial service. How the only staff allowed in the operating room while you tried to 'save' Trevor were people with I.S. clearance, none of the hospital's regular staff."
"There were security considerations that-"
"But the real question that the Captain here has been asking is… why?"
Doctor Maple stopped babbling but his face grew red and his hands shook.
"Yes," Gordon went on. "That is a good question. You were with Trevor that first year. You helped Reverend Johnny put together a new health care system. Trevor appointed you to the council. You delivered his son and cared for Ashley during her pregnancy. You were their family doctor for years. Trevor trusted you, completely."
"I…I had nothing to do with it."
"And I look around this place of yours," Gordon cast his eyes around the room. "Nothing pretentious. You could have had a big house filled with all sorts of luxuries. Instead, a small, old townhome. I see a simple desk, your diplomas and accreditations hanging on the wall in boring frames; nothing fancy. You never married, you drive a boring sedan, and you don't seem to go on many vacations. So you didn't do it for personal gain, did you?"
"I did not do anything!"
Gordon's eyes narrowed to daggers. His hands reached out and grabbed Maple's collar. His words became a growl but not merely from anger; Nina heard a shade of disappointment or disgust there, too.
"I know why, Doctor. Evan Godfrey black mailed you. He found out something I found out years ago. He found out that you were going to lose your medical license, that you were facing charges of inappropriate contact with a patient. I believe she was seventeen years old when you put her under anesthesia."
Maple struggled in Gordon's grasp and defended, "No, that's not true!"
"Do you want to know how I know that, Doctor? I know it because it was my job to know these things. Years ago, after I started working for Trevor, I found your legal records. I found that you had been a few weeks away from losing your license before Armageddon came."
"I didn't do it!"
"I told Trevor about it. Do you know what he said? Do you?" Gordon pushed Maple against the desk. "He said the slate is clean. That's what Trevor said. He said whatever you did in the old world didn't matter. The same thing he told me when I let him know that his Chief of Security, Ray Roos, served time for theft and assault or his Director of Industry Brett Stanton had been an alcoholic."
Nina saw something in Gordon's eyes. Anger, yes, but also sadness. He might rip Maple's head off, or he might start crying. She did not know which.
"That's what I hate about people like you and Evan! You can't get it through your heads that our lives are on the line here, can you? He had faith in your better nature and you sold out Trevor Stone to a snake like Godfrey because you were worried about your reputation. The old world is gone, Doctor. And with it your sins got washed away. But that wasn't good enough. You still put your vanity above the good of us all! You helped kill the man who gave you a second chance. The only man who really understood how different this world is!"
"No! No! I didn't do anything! I just…I just, um, tried to save…"
Gordon's voice grew a notch softer but he still held the doctor in his grasp.
"You just did what they told you to do, didn't you? It seemed so simple. Why, you weren't doing anything wrong at all. You weren't a part of their plan, just someone stuck in the middle. You made it look like an energy rifle blast-"
"It was an energy rifle blast," the man insisted. "I saw it! I had a hell of a time stitching him up to look good for the viewings."
Gordon's eyes grew a hair wider.
"But they did not want an autopsy, did they? Maybe you would have found a bullet under that blast, or some other cause of death. The real cause of death. No, they wanted you to confirm that Trevor had died, and to say it could be nothing other than the official story they painted. Then you patched him up so he could be put on display for all The Empire to see."
Nina, who had watched the interrogation silently, asked, "Why was that so important?"
Knox said, "Because we had to see him dead. Last time, when Trevor disappeared, there was uncertainty. Not this time." He then commanded, "You're going to help us, Doctor. You're going to atone, or I'll kill you right here."
Maple stammered, "I, um, I didn't do anything. I didn't think-"
"You're going to come with us and do what you should have done in the first place. Evan went to a lot of trouble and risk to make the doctor here cooperate. He did it so that Trevor's body could be on display, but he didn't want the body getting a good look-over. That tells us there are answers with the body." Maple stuttered, "W-what do you want me to do?" "You're going to do that autopsy you never did. It's time for the dead to speak." — A trio of children ranging from six to twelve waded into the water with their hands locked together. Behind them, on a beach blanket, mom and dad encouraged the kids as gentle breakers rolled to shore. The youngest one-a little boy-tried to retreat as his bare feet met water that, no matter how warm, would feel cold on a ninety degree day. The oldest sister, however, would not let him give up and coaxed her brother further out.
Nina watched the family drama from the shade of a park bench on the far side of the concrete walkway running along Highland Beach on its way toward the Southern Command building. She wore a white halter top in deference to the heat but refused to exchange her green BDU pants for cooler apparel. As much as she perspired, General Shepherd had it worse in his black dress uniform. "We kidnapped Dr. Maple," Nina told him. No sense lying or even trying to sugar coat it. Not to Shep. "Well I'll be. Quite a bold little step." "Knox figures that Evan is just as likely to figure Maple flew the coop on his own as he is to figure out we got him." Shep scratched his head and asked, "Tell me again, what did Knox have on Maple that made him give up the ghost?" Nina smiled; a little.
"Nothing. Nothing at all. Just the lack of an autopsy and circumstantial evidence about him being in the right place at the right time to cover things up. But, look, the guy pretty much gave himself up. I asked Gordon about that afterwards. I told him he hadn't had anything on Maple; nothing concrete, just guesses. But I got to give it to Knox. You know what he said? He said Maple knew he was guilty, and his own conscience did him in. The Doc's mind, Knox said, filled in the blanks. It was all psychological warfare, I suppose. Kind of scary how Knox has a feel for all this. Makes me wonder what he used to do in his old job."
Shep chuckled.
"Listen, there is something going on," Nina had already told the story of the data tapes and air space violations and Ray Roos' attempt to kill them. "There are a bunch of things being covered up, starting with the tripping of the Tambourine Line and also the body. That's next. But look, we're starting to have trouble moving around. More I.S. showing up at train stations and hotels. I saw a couple hanging around my building so I didn’t go to see Denise today, I came here and I saw a suspicious car by the HQ."
Shepherd said, "They might not have been here for you. A few weeks ago the buildings down here were almost empty. Now I've been recalled and so have a bunch of others. We got meetings and meetings. Nina, they're smothering us. Lots of busy work, but you can tell it's all about keeping us close to home. Hell, I told Dante that I've got people in the field trying to track down those Red Hands, but he still said he wanted me back here. It's like they're keeping a real close eye on us and showin' us who's boss. They're making us tap dance for them."
"Maple said something about a military conspiracy to take over the government."
The General spat, "Now I reckon that to be the biggest bit of bunk to come out of Washington in ten years. Yeah, it's been in the newspapers and we keep getting speeches about teamwork and whatever. But these new guys, they're the ones that don't know about teamwork. They're so busy trying to be in charge of the whole shootin' match that they're stepping on a lot of toes. Makin' noise about the idea of a coup d'etat is real insulting to the military."
"Gordon figures our new President is looking for an excuse to purge all his enemies. Shep, you're out on a limb here."
"Oh, now don't you worry 'bout that. You just get done what Ashley asked you to do. If Evan did set this up, then something is gunna have to give. As much as I can't stand the little weasel, I sure hope he ain't behind this. That could tear everything apart."
"Well, yeah. But like I was saying, I.S. is crawling all over looking for us. Getting around is becoming an issue. Is there any way you can help?"
Shep thought and then nodded. "I think I can. Got someone new on the team and I'm pretty sure you can trust him. Is that it, Captain? You just stopped by lookin' to find a ride?"
She returned his kind smile and answered, "I also picked up some help. Oliver and Carl are going to go with us to Pennsylvania." He asked her about the other member of the Dark Wolves: "And Vince?" Nina shook her head. "I didn't ask him. He wasn't around, anyhow." "Hey, whoa, you can trust Vince Caesar. He'd pretty much jump off a bridge for you."
"I know. I didn't want to put him in a bad spot. I'm just saying, Vince is really by the book. What we're doing, it's not exactly authorized."
Shepherd pointed out, "You were always Miss By-the-book yourself. Now look at you."
A burst of giggles from the beach goers drifted to their bench on a cool wind carrying the smell of salt water. The six year old raced across the sand chasing a seagull.
"I suppose so, yeah," she admitted. "This is…I dunno…"
"Personal?"
She cocked her head and considered.
"You know, it is. She asked me to do it. Me. I didn't think she knew I existed. Still, it's like I feel a personal debt to Trevor. Strange, huh? But anyway, I didn't ask Vince to come along because I didn't want to put him in a bad spot. He'd come but he wouldn't feel right about it."
Shep said, "Lots of folks feeling that way these days."
"Oh? What do you mean?"
"I mean other officers and such. They don't like our new President and they sure think this whole peace deal is a fool's bargain. But they also know that if the military does anything it will tear all of this apart. I think most of us are just biding our time, hoping either our 'President' comes to his senses or we make it long enough to vote in someone new. If anyone is hoping the army is going to throw Evan out on his butt, they're wrong. Unless, of course, you find something to motivate us. Otherwise everyone is feelin' it's really important to play by the new rules, even if we think those rules are for shit."
"What about General Brewer? I haven't seen anything about him in the newspapers."
"Brewer…" Shepherd's mouth bent as if he bit into sour candy. "Brewer is back at the old estate doing paper work. Truth is, Jon is pretty much out of the game for now. I think losing Trev was hardest on him. Then he goes and hands over the keys to the kingdom real fast and I'm guessin' he's come to realize how big a whoops that was. I think he's kind of locked himself away and Evan is doing everything he can to keep that door closed. No, for the time being Jon Brewer is dead in the water. Although I'm sure his wife is givin' him an earful."
"That's too bad. I always sort of liked him."
"Yeah," Shep's voice drifted off. "Me too, I guess. But look, you got to finish up what you're doing. Sounds as if you've got your teeth into it now. I'll help you best I can, but that ain't much. Like I said, they're watching us real close." "You can do one thing for me, can't you, Shep?" He raised a suspicious eyebrow. She asked, "Give Denise a hug. Tell her I love her."
"And tell her you'll be home soon?"
Nina shook her head. "No, don't tell her that. No reason to lie."
OUR BELOVED ANN SOMMERS, January 15 th, 1922- August 9, 1964
IN MEMORY OF JOSEPH STEINHARDT, November 1875- February 4, 1950
HERE LIES A LOVING FATHER AND A GENTLE MAN, ARTHUR TURTLEDOVE,
LAID TO REST ON OCTOBER 21, 1975.
The markers stood in lines on the two square miles of green hills comprising St. Mary's cemetery on the southern outskirts of Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. Most were humble stones baring fading names, a few more grand with stone crosses and weeping angels.
A group of thieves stalked the grounds under the cover of night, stepping lightly between markers and moving from the open hillside into a stretch of trees. Nina led them with Odin the Norwegian Elkhound at her side. Gordon came next, prodding along Dr. Maple who stumbled every few steps. Oliver Maddock and Carl Bly-members of Nina's Dark Wolves unit-flanked the group to either side.
They approached a tumulus mausoleum built into the side of a shaded ridge. Rows of pillars gave the crypt classic, Greek architecture but the small tomb was nearly hidden by drooping tree branches, making it a surprisingly quiet and sedate resting place for an Emperor. Etched above the door was the family name STONE surrounded by carved arrows.
Nina approached the entrance while the others waited. The sword strapped to her leg and the rifle slung on her back jingled. A wind shuffled leaves and the sound of a night bird whizzed overhead, the lone witness to their trespass.
She stopped and produced a spray can. Gordon held a heavy but small tank in one hand and a flashlight in the other. He pointed that flashlight toward Nina and the tomb's entrance.
The spray can Nina used released a fine mist that, in turn, revealed the red beam of a security sensor spanning the door about chest-high. While the sentries at the guard station near the main entrance had already been incapacitated, the alarm might broadcast a wider alert.
She motioned Knox forward. He, in turn, gave Maple a polite shove. The doctor's glasses nearly fell off but he did as instructed.
As they approached, Nina sprayed the beam again. Gordon bent under the electronic trip wire, rested his parcels on the ground, and produced a tiny packet from a pocket in the black assault vest he wore. He ruptured that package and spread its contents against the mausoleum door locks. A pasty acid burned into the bolts. A moment later, a gentle push swung the portal open. Cool, musty air drifted out from the crypt.
Gordon gathered his items and entered. Nina used the spray can to highlight the security beam once more, then pushed Dr. Maple's head lower, so he and his medical bag slipped underneath without tripping the alarm.
The Captain turned to the remainder of the party. Maddock gave a thumb up and crouched alongside a tombstone. Bly did the same with his eyes focused in another direction. Odin hovered between the two, his canine nose searching the air for threats.
She slipped inside the crypt avoiding the man-made alarm beam keeping watch over the final resting place of Trevor Stone. But just inside the door, high up in a black corner, a patch of what could be mistaken for moss glowed a soft light of alert.
As the trio of intruders approached the metal sarcophagus at the rear of the room, a wakeup call transmitted to the tomb's other guardians…
…In the thin forest along the perimeter of St. Mary's cemetery, on a branch of a birch tree, drooped two large green bulbs easily mistaken for discolored bees nests or the rotting remains of Gypsy Moth cocoons. The bulbs shimmied and curled open with a soft crackle. Vile liquid dripped in long, stringy strands as two greenish spheres birthed from the sickly wombs…
…Flashlights found the Emperor's coffin. Its shiny reflection in the artificial light contrasted starkly with the dreary, aged stone of the small room.
A sophisticated electronic lock affixed to a bar controlled a series of seals along the frame. Cracking the lock's code would take time, which was why Gordon Knox brought along a more direct method of penetrating the final ring of security protecting the Emperor's last vessel.
He slipped on a pair of welder's goggles and ignited a blowtorch. The furious fountain of sparks from burning acetylene lit the chamber like a holiday fireworks display. The metal glowed as it melted and broke under the assault.
Captain Forest and Dr. Maple stood off with their hands protecting their eyes. The heat from Gordon's work chased away the coolness of the room.
Nina felt uneasy inside the burial site. She felt even more uneasy as she spied Dr. Maple examining her as if she might be a bug under a microscope. "What? Is there a problem?" He pushed his spectacles higher on his nose and answered, "You really don't remember, um, a thing. Do you?" "Huh? What do you mean?"
Gordon finished cutting through one section of the locking mechanism, slid the torch tank to the other end of the coffin, and continued his work.
"Well, um, I was there, you know," the Doctor explained. "Me and Reverend Johnny, you see, found the, um, memory implant in your head. We had to, well, break the news-so to speak-to Trevor."
Nina's eye narrowed. She felt a shiver in her spine.
"And what? What do you know about all that?"
Maple smiled. He tried to appear confident and in control with that smile, but it came across as weak and unsure. Nonetheless he tried, shaking his head and saying, "It would be treason, um, you see. Trevor said it would be treason to tell you anything about the times you, um, can't recall." She ignored the irony in Maple speaking of treason and wrapped a fist around his collar. "Listen, you had better-" "Get me out of this! Get me out of this in one piece…protect me and I'll tell you."
"Right now, you need protection from me. I want you to tell me-" A heavy clang interrupted the interrogation as the locking mechanism fell away. Knox, unaware of the conversation, turned off the torch and raised his goggles. "That should do the trick," he said. Nina stared at Maple for a long two seconds, and then released his collar as she turned her eyes to the coffin.
As the moment arrived, Nina found she did not want to gaze upon the rotting corpse of her beloved leader. It had been bad enough to view his perfectly preserved body as it lay in state more than a month ago. But to see the man she had admired rotting away…to see him as nothing more than an empty shell…that made her stomach ache.
Yet she could not avoid this duty. Based on Maple's confessions, she agreed with Knox that clues waited inside the Emperor's body.
She grabbed one end, Gordon the other. Together they lifted the heavy lid and dropped it to the floor.
Inside the coffin lay the body of Trevor Stone. His skin not decayed, not blotched, and not running but clean and clear without a blemish to be seen. His eyes closed peacefully, his hair combed perfectly, his strong hands still crossed across his chest.
"My God, Doctor," Gordon spoke first. "What the Hell did you use to embalm him?"
Maple swallowed hard and admitted, "We didn't embalm him…"
…From each of the sick round spheres lying on the soft forest floor sprouted a trio of sharp and boney protrusions. They hinged at an unseen joint and returned to the ground, stabbing into the mush there. At the center of each creature rose a glowing orb alongside a fleshy cylinder that sat on a tendon-like shoulder.
The creatures-both of them-rose five feet in the air…
…Odin stood still between the two Dark Wolves commandos with his curly tail rigidly held aloft and the fur of his mane standing like porcupine prickles. A scent carried through the air to his snout; a scent of death and decay different from the cemetery's stench. He had not smelled that particular aroma in many years. Odin growled and turned his eyes toward the line of trees to their right. Something wicked approached……"I did not embalm the body. I was told only to stitch the wound." The flashlight-propped on the casket-shined on the perfectly preserved remains of Trevor Stone. Nina insisted, "Doctor, someone did something to him. I'm just saying, dead bodies don't hold up like this."
Before she even finished, Gordon pulled a hunting knife and drew it across the dead man's tunic. The fabric tore, revealing somewhat scorched skin beneath a row of stitches running from his upper chest to his stomach.
"That's where the blast was," Maple explained. "A terrible wound. He was certainly hit by one of the alien energy rifles."
"I see," Gordon mumbled.
Nina acted on a hunch. She carefully reached toward the dead man's face and, after a moment of hesitation, lifted the eyelids. Two intact eyes with no sign of rot stared out with a glossy glimmer; the pupils dilated not too much, not too little. A soft gasp escaped her lips. Knox grabbed the bag in Maple's hand and shoved it against his chest. "Cut him, Doctor." "I can't do a proper autopsy here. I can barely see!" "I don't think you're going to have to dig very deep. Now cut him."
The doctor did as instructed. He slipped on a pair of latex gloves then pulled a scalpel from his bag and went to work releasing the stitches. They snapped apart one after another. Nina curled her nose and sniffed the air. Her eyes danced around as her mind drew a conclusion. "Do you smell that?" Her question pulled Knox from observing the doctor's work. "Huh? What? Smell what?"
"That's what I mean," she answered. "Look, there should be a smell. He's cutting open the chest and there's no smell. No dead smell, no body smell. Nothing."
"No," Gordon corrected. "There is a smell. Almost sweet. Not the smell of a dead body. Something different. Very strange." Maple finished re-opening the wound and hesitated. "Go ahead, doctor," Knox said. "Do your job." Maple huffed and examined the contents of the corpse. He first bent back the perfectly intact rib cage.
"Interesting. These bones are…well they're almost rubbery. Not so much bone. More like tissue. There's also a lot of blood down here."
Gordon said, "You mean coagulated blood."
"No, very much a liquid."
Nina stood on her toes to peer over his shoulder but lost her nerve. Instead of watching she asked, "Well? What do you see?" "Internal organs," Maple answered. "No kidding," she hissed. "But do you see any problems?" "The lungs, the liver, the heart, all are in perfect condition."
Nina asked, "I mean, do you see anything unusual?"
Knox repeated the doctor's words, "Perfect condition."
"Yes," Maple's voice wavered, suspicious of his own conclusions. "Perfect condition."
"They shouldn't be in perfect condition, Doctor," said Knox. "They should be decomposing, rotting away. The blood should not be flowing around in there, it should be dried and dead. His eyes should be rolled, his skin sagging. Why isn't it, Doctor? Why?"
For a few moments, the doctor's professional curiosity swept aside his circumstance. He spoke as if he might be in a laboratory at work, studying a specimen.
"No rigor mortis. No decay. But yet…"
Knox pounced, "What?"
"The organs. Everything is exactly where it should be. No settling. The body has not lost any cohesion. It's not right."
Nina's eyes widened and she pushed herself between the doctor and Knox. She saw the carved open chest of the body that appeared to belong to Trevor Stone. In the hole there she saw globs of pink and splashes of red. She said, "You're saying that this is not Trevor Stone." "What?" Maple gasped. "It's a fake." Knox scratched his chin and echoed, "A fake? Interesting thought, Captain." "Impossible," Maple decreed meekly. "I mean, everything looks exactly as it should."
"Yes," Nina's mind buzzed. "It's too perfect. Look, I mean, you said it yourself. All the organs are intact, there's no decay, it looks like a human body but it was never alive so it could not rot to begin with. This isn't Trevor Stone."
The assumption left Knox befuddled, one of the few times in his life.
"That makes no sense. There's no logic to it. Evan assassinated Trevor Stone. What would he have to gain by a fake body?"
Maple stumbled, "But who could do such a thing? This is not some sort of Hollywood special effect. These organs look exactly as they should; the glands, the blood vessels…everything is straight from a text book."
"But never any life," Nina knew the answer as if by instinct. "Just a prop. Just enough so that if you didn't look too close you'd think he was dead. Listen, this changes everything."
The grave robbers heard the sound of Odin barking fiercely…
…They came from the tree line, two monsters each with a yellow light for a face sitting at the nexus of three bony green legs. They moved forward methodically, closing toward the violated crypt.
Odin stood next to a marble angel and barked. Oliver and Carl raised their weapons. The creatures marched across the open as if unafraid of any human defense.
Nina and Gordon with Maple in tow burst out from the tomb, no longer concerned with the security trip wire. As they moved from the damp, cool confines of the grave and into the oppressive heat of the July night, the creatures began their attack.
A fleshy tube-like weapon alongside the glowing head fired from a clock-like face of holes, one after another. Deadly pellets sought out the three who exited the mausoleum. Nina pushed Maple to a sitting position behind a sturdy grave marker, then rolled to the grassy ground with her weapon ready. Knox took position behind one of the fake pillars-more sculpture than support-at the front of the crypt and readied his own nickel-plated automatic. The Dark Wolves fired at their assailants. The creatures seemed to not even notice the bullets and continued their approach. "What the Hell are these things?" Carl Bly shouted as he let fly another three-round burst. Oliver added his firepower to Bly's and assured, "Easy chap, we'll put them down."
The approaching horrors fired again, this time with far more accuracy. A series of shots not only hit one of the tomb's fake pillars where Knox stood, but literally ripped away the stone there. It exploded off the facade in big dusty chunks, chasing Knox from that spot to a more concealed position behind the crypt.
Another volley aimed for and disintegrated the gravestone behind which Nina had placed Maple. The marker blasted away from top to bottom, becoming nothing but powder floating away on a summer night's breeze. Maple tried to flee as his protection evaporated. The powerful projectiles punched through his hide and did to his body what they had done to the tombstone.
"No! No!"
Nina's shouts could not stop the doctor's destruction and her well-aimed bullets that hit the attacker did not dissuade its assault. Indeed, like the other shots flying in the monsters' direction the creature did not even feel the impact. It just moved forward, alongside its partner, and strolled in for the kill; to silence those who had learned the truth.
"We can't hold these things!"
Nina agreed with Carl but a glance at her watch told her that they must hold these things for another two minutes.
She found an anti-personnel grenade on her battle suit, pulled the pin and threw it toward the approaching danger. The explosive detonated between the two creatures, showering them with shrapnel. They wobbled in response to the deadly rain, halting their approach briefly. But as the shrapnel faded so did their hesitation. The creatures marched forward again, thirty yards and closing, their strange weapons firing and forcing Nina to seek new cover further away.
Maddock followed his Captain's lead, using the M203 launcher on the barrel of his weapon to lob another explosive grenade at their assailants. This one hit directly beneath one of the things and detonated, peppering the undercarriage of the monster, causing it to hop, but any damage remained light. It strutted forward on its tripod of legs, firing in flashes that brought light to the lightless meadow of headstones.
Knox popped out from behind the mausoleum, held his pistol in both hands, and fired in heavy thunder claps at the creatures now twenty yards away. His addition to the fight only brought unwanted attention. A flurry of alien pellets whizzed by his head. He dove to the ground and rolled between rows of markers, the tops of which were torn away by pursuing fire.
Odin barked and ran to Nina's side as she knelt and squeezed more shots from a fresh magazine.
Oliver Maddock reloaded his M203 launcher and caused another delay in the monsters' approach when the projectile exploded. A very brief delay. "We need to fall back!" Carl spoke the obvious. Nina objected, "We have to get the body! Listen! We have to take it with us." Knox ran to her position, grabbed her arm, and pulled her in retreat saying, "Forget the body! Fall back!"
Carl Bly stood with a grenade in hand. A series of shots hit the tombstone he used for cover, pushing through the granite and hitting him. He managed to toss the explosive but with much less strength than intended. It stopped far shy of its target and exploded harmlessly. Maddock hooked an arm around his friend's waist and dragged him off at a fast limp. "We can't move fast enough!" Knox shouted. "Leave me," Bly said. "Not a chance, buttie," Maddock insisted with a touch of Welsh slang. "Now shush your noise."
Knox, however, appeared to be right. The four people and their dog retreated down an open hill face among row after row of monuments to people long past. Those same monuments proved an obstacle for the three-legged pursuers, causing them to step daintily between statues and tombstones. Nonetheless, they gained ground and their deadly projectiles came closer and closer to hitting another mark.
Nina turned and fired again, kneeling behind a wide grave marker. Alien rounds chipped away at that stone fast. She consulted her watch, and then turned a hopeful eye toward the sky.
"C'mon, c'mon, don't be late."
A swoosh of air and flashes of searching spotlights announced the arrival of Shepherd's contribution to the team as Eagle One roared in over the slope of the hill with the twin plasma cannons under its triangular nose firing flame-like bursts of energy at the aliens.
The expert pilot flew the craft with precision, swinging its back end around toward a suitable landing position while the turret-mounted guns under the nose cone stayed locked on target. The blasts from the ship's guns obliterated stones, spat earth and grass into the sky, and forced the hideous guardians to halt their pursuit. In turn, the strange pellets from those animals took aim at the aircraft, punching divots in its hard hull in a series of clings, clangs, and dings.
Hauser lowered the Eagle between the attackers and the escaping team, opening the starboard side door from his position in the pilot's seat. The bright light of the passenger module cast a glow over the grassy hillside.
Nina entered last, covering Maddock and Knox as they helped the injured Bly inside. Odin-in a running leap-jumped up and in.
The Eagle's powerful main guns managed to blast off one of the creatures' legs, but could not destroy them; their hides appeared much stronger than their spindly frames suggested. Still, they could not advance into that fire and they could not stop the Eagle from lifting off and away from the grounds of St. Mary's cemetery.
Inside the passenger compartment, attention turned first to Bly. Blood oozed from his side. They laid him on one of the bench seats and removed his clothing to assess the damage.
"Got right through your armor, mate," Maddock said.
"Yeah-ouch-and through a tombstone on the way there-argh-too."
Nina told him, "Good thing, too. Goddamn tombstone saved your sorry ass. But look, it's bleeding pretty good. You need to see a doctor."
"Yeah, and we lost ours," Knox said.
Nina computed quickly. "Okay, listen. We'll stop at one of the hospitals down town and get him to emergency. Maybe we can get him patched up and out again without too many questions."
Knox shook his head, "No way around this, Captain. We've got to toughen up and keep moving. Those things weren't there by accident and I'm guessing Internal Security and who-knows who else will be all over us real soon. But there are more things to consider."
Nina turned to him with angry eyes. She would not leave comrades behind. She would not let Bly bleed to death.
Gordon, however, gave her reason to reconsider: "They're going to know we saw the body. They're going to figure out how close we are to figuring this all out. They're going to start covering their tracks; erasing everything. We have to move fast, Captain. Remember that promise you made to Ashley."
Her brow furled. She did not like lectures.
"He's right," Bly spat between grunts of pain. "Just drop me off and you keep going. Cap, you gotta find out what is going on."
"I'll stick with this one," Maddock volunteered. "Maybe we can get in and get out of the hospital quick. But you're gunna have to move a shade faster, methinks." Knox grabbed Nina's arm so as to grab her attention. "Let them go, Captain. You have a mission to complete." "W-what? Where? We have everything." "No, we don't. There's a lot more to do. More places to go."
"Like where?"
"Someone went to a lot of trouble to make it look like the Redcoats flew all the way up here to kill Trevor Stone. They then made sure those assassins got shot down and then put together a fake body. That means there's still another place to look for answers."
"I don't follow you."
"Come on, who could do this? Think. A body that was not a body. Something that resembled a living thing but was never alive. And those things that attacked us. Where have you seen something similar?"
"I–I don't remember them. I've never seen anything quite like them."
"Get out the hostiles database, Captain. Page through it. Go back to the first edition, when the illustrations were sketches by Anita Nehru. What did they look like? Whose work did they resemble?" Her eyes widened as realization hit home. He told her, "There's one more place we have to look for answers. One more place to check before we can be sure." She answered, "The Redcoat base. In Mexico."
"We have to be sure that they were the fall guys. If I'm right," Gordon let go her arm and his eyes grew tight, "then Evan has been a bigger fool than I thought possible. He's made a deal with the devil and our time is running out."
"What are you two talking about?" Bly interrupted from his position on the bench seat where one hand held a wad of gauze to a bloody wound.
Gordon warned, "There's someone pulling the strings in all this. Someone we haven't heard from in a long, long time."