17. Conflicts
by Denise Felt 2002
ACT I
Chucho lay on the roof staring at the stars overhead. So intent was the boy on finding that one particular star that it was several moments before he realized that someone had entered the small house below and was talking to Timon. He shifted the pallet he lay on, exposing the small hole he had worked through the roof years ago. The voices grew louder, but were still indistinguishable. After a while, he was able to discern the urgent whisper of Mattimeo from Timon’s fierce replies.
His heart quickened, and his eyes stung. Mattimeo and Timon’s wife, Mireya had been sent on an assignment behind enemy lines at Kodos’ fortress two nights ago. If he had returned alone, it could only mean one thing. The woman who had been mother to him all these years had been captured. Or worse. He strained his ears to hear their words.
"We must warn them," Mattimeo whispered desperately to his friend and commander.
There was a slight pause, then Timon’s voice was heard, sounding raspy. "Then you must go. Quickly, before they tighten their air field security."
Chucho heard the soft thud of hands clasping, then Mattimeo said softly, "If I am able, I shall return."
"May Mireya’s spirit guide you through the star void."
After Mattimeo left, Chucho crept down to the main room. Timon sat at the table, staring at nothing. "Timon?"
There was no response.
"My commander, what news?"
Timon stirred and looked over at him. Chucho gasped. His eyes were dark and wounded, like the eyes of a hartok when it is brought down by a bow. The boy came a few steps closer, not knowing what he could say to ease his pain. After several minutes, Timon said quietly, "Mireya is dead."
Chucho swallowed. "And Mattimeo? Where has he gone?"
Timon sighed. "To Earth."
The boy came up to the table, his heart beating quickly. "He will need help. I will accompany him there."
Timon’s hand shot out and gripped his tunic. "No! You must not! I need you here."
Chucho met those eyes for a long moment, then looked away. "It is a suicide mission."
Timon sat back and covered his eyes in a weary gesture that the boy had never seen before. "It is necessary, Chucho. They found evidence of a major plot against Earth. Mattimeo is right. We must warn them, if we can."
The boy held that gaze and saw the fatigue that went beyond grief. His heart sank. "Will they be able to stop it?"
Timon looked the young warrior in the eye and did something he had sworn never to do. He lied to him. "Yes, Chucho. They will stop it."
***
"When was the last calibration done on the sensors, Ayshea?"
Ayshea turned from her console in the Command Sphere. "Last Tuesday, Lieutenant."
Joan frowned at the readout. "Well, that’s not right. This is off by 0.023 degrees."
"Isn’t that within limitations?"
The lieutenant nodded, but continued to look over the readout. "I don’t like it. This is the third time in two months. Something’s going on."
Ayshea asked, "Should we do a systems check?"
Lt. Harrington sighed. "When was the last level 5 done?"
She checked the log. "11 days ago, Lieutenant."
"Damn."
Ayshea looked inquiring.
Joan gave her a rueful glance. "They’re going to love me for this. Schedule another one, Ayshea."
"Yes, sir."
***
Kurn had lost the spy’s trail hours before, but picked it up again near the air field when he found the body hidden under the brush. He recognized the pilot immediately and got on his comm to air field security. "This is Kurn. Any takeoffs in the last..." He looked over the body carefully. "...say, three hours?"
"Yes, Seeg Kurn. Jackor left with instructions from Kodos himself."
"Fool! Jackor is lying in his own blood at my feet. Get me a ship ready. Now!"
***
"We’re going to miss you."
Nina Rogers glanced over at her friend. The lunar flight had been uneventful, and they were getting ready to dock with the lunar carrier. Col. Foster was at the lunar module controls along with Lt. Travers. She and Joan were seated behind them in the passenger section. Most of the flight had been spent going over final details of the crew shift on Moonbase, but silence had fallen between the two women once they had entered Earth’s atmosphere. Nina had hoped to maintain her calm demeanor until she was home, but apparently Joan wanted to talk about the changes. Nina sighed and said, "The commander assures me that he has tons of work waiting for me at HQ. It’s not as though I’m leaving the organisation or anything."
Joan said, "I know. But we’ve gotten pretty close working together in our little group. Moonbase won’t be the same without you there, Nina."
Nina blinked back the tears that threatened. "I’ve got other obligations to take care of now, Joan. These things happen."
Lt. Harrington frowned. "Yeah. Like when Gay got pregnant with little Sebastian. But she acts now like she doesn’t miss us at all! You won’t forget us too, will you?"
"No." Nina swallowed. "I’ll never forget any of you or my time on Moonbase. It’s been the highlight of my life."
"Does Mark know yet?"
Her friend shook her head. "Not yet. I’ll tell him the good news when he comes home for dinner."
Joan grinned. "That should make his day! He’s been wanting this for a while, hasn’t he?"
"Yes. And me too, now that it’s here. It’ll just take some time getting used to being Earthside after all these years." She gave Joan a speculative look. "You’ll do fine in charge of things, Joan. You’re the senior officer now, and I can’t imagine anyone who’d handle Moonbase better than you."
The lieutenant said, "Thanks, Nina. But I never really thought this day would come, you know? And I was quite happy having first Gay, then you in command. It’s so weird to think of me being in charge." She shook her head ruefully. "I hate change."
Nina chuckled. "Just think. Some day, you’ll be coming down to Earth to stay and starting your own family."
Joan fiercely shook her head. "Not me! I’m not getting married."
"Ever?"
Joan shrugged dismissively. "I don’t see any reason for it myself. No man is worth giving up everything you’ve worked for."
Nina’s smile was wry. "Man, does that sound familiar."
Her friend laughed. "That’s because I learned it from you, Nina."
"Well, you’ve seen how I’ve changed my mind over time, haven’t you?"
"Yeah." Joan brooded for a moment. "But it won’t happen to me. You’ll see."
***
Sheila handed the children over to the governess, Elodie when they entered the house that evening, but the housekeeper insisted on carrying the baby upstairs herself. "I’ll just take Master Alexander for you, ma’am," Madeline said briskly.
"Thank you," Sheila said, giving her the baby as her husband walked into his study and closed the door. She sighed and turned back to Elodie. "I’ll be up to kiss them all good night in a while."
"Yes, ma’am."
Sheila waved to three-year-old Kathy and two-year-old Andrew as they looked back over the bannister on their way upstairs with Elodie, then squared her shoulders and followed her husband into the study. He looked up frostily when she came into the room, then returned to the paperwork set out in front of him without a word. Sheila grimaced. Well, what had she expected? He wasn’t the King Clam for nothing. She would just have to pry it out of him. "Out with it," she said.
He met her eyes coldly for a moment before returning to his work, but said nothing. However, his lips tightened slightly.
Sheila considered it a good sign. Evidently he did have something to say, after all, in spite of his chilly silence all the way home tonight. He was just holding it in. Well, she’d be damned if she’d let him. "I mean it, Ed. Tell me what you’re so angry about. I like to know what I’m being accused of. Call it a quirk of mine."
His voice was like ice when he answered. "You know damn well what I’m upset about, Sheila. You’ve gone too far this time!"
She advanced toward the desk. "I’m no mindreader. The fact is, I don’t know what I’ve done to make you angry. I thought the visit went wonderfully myself. That is, until you all of a sudden bundled us into the car to come home."
He put down the paper he held and leaned forward over the desk, his mouth a grim line. "Can you honestly tell me that you did nothing wrong?"
She spread her hands. "When? Before dinner? After dinner? When Jasper was telling the children stories? When?"
Straker’s lips thinned even more as he tried to hold his temper in check. "When you told John about Edith’s hobby, Sheila. Or did you think I wouldn’t hear you?"
"What?"
His icy gaze flicked over her face and saw her bewilderment, but did not soften. "I heard you. You told him as if it were nothing of importance at all that she was into time travel and its possibilities."
She looked at him in silence for a moment, trying to understand why that would anger him. "Yeah. It’s hardly a secret, Ed."
"You had no business telling him anything about it! I haven’t mentioned it. And neither has Emily. Surely if she wanted him to know her aunt’s hobby, she would have told him herself."
"Maybe it just never came up before." Sheila ran a hand through her hair. "I don’t get it, Ed. Why shouldn’t I have told him about it? I thought he’d be interested."
"Interested? Of course, he’s interested! Are you trying to get rid of him?"
"What? No! Ed, John enjoys talking about time travel. You must admit he can offer a unique perspective to the conversation. He and I have discussed it many times. I thought he’d be thrilled to talk to someone who’s so knowledgeable on the subject."
"You mean, who can show him how to return to his own world," he said coldly.
"For God’s sake, Ed! His world is here. Surely that was obvious tonight when Emily told us all that she’s expecting? Why would he want to go back?"
"Because it’s where he belongs." His eyes were blue shards of ice when he said, "You should not have interfered, Sheila. It wasn’t your place to show him that he might be able to return there. He’s not your son!"
She gasped in shock, staring at his unyielding countenance for a long moment, then turned and left the study without another word.
ACT II
"As you can see, the readings are not that far off the normal, but they certainly get close to the limit. And they shouldn't be off at all!"
Straker sat forward, looking the report over carefully. "You're right, Lieutenant. A few of these results were recorded just after a systemwide check."
"Yes, sir," answered Joan. "Including this last one. In fact, we have the readings both before and after the check. And they're virtually the same."
He rubbed a hand wearily over his eyes. "Hmmm. So it makes no difference whether the system’s just been recalibrated. That’s odd. You've kept track of these anomalous readings for how long, Lieutenant?"
"Since the second time I noticed them, sir. Just over a year ago. The first time was nearly two years ago, and I assumed the sensors needed recalibrated and ordered it done. But I didn't recheck the data afterward. I didn't realize that it might be important."
The commander sat back in his chair and folded his hands. Every bone in his body ached with fatigue, but it was finally morning, and he’d be damned if he’d go and try to get some sleep now. "That's all right, Lieutenant. It may even now be something unimportant."
"Do you think so, sir?"
He sighed. "No. Not really. Not when it keeps happening. Tell me, Joan. Do you have any idea what it could mean?"
She shook her head. "I've tried and tried to think of what could cause such a small deviation in the readings, but nothing makes any sense. Those sensors are trained on SHADO HQ at all times. And the system constantly adjusts with Earth’s orbit to keep them right on target." She sighed. "I almost didn't want to bring it to your attention, because I couldn't find the cause. But in the end, I decided you needed to know anyway."
"It was brave of you, Lieutenant, to bring me a problem without having a solution ready. And I appreciate it. I trust your instincts. I'll turn this report over to our science team and see what they come up with. Perhaps it will make some sense to them. In the meantime, keep monitoring the data."
"Yes, sir."
"You're Earthside for a few days before you assume command of Moonbase, aren't you?" he asked, then added as she nodded, "Well, enjoy your time off, Lieutenant. And try not to worry about your new position too much. You'll do a fine job. If I weren't sure of it, I wouldn't have promoted you."
Joan blushed. "Thank you, sir."
***
"Thanks for coming to get me, Sheila."
She glanced over at the man seated beside her in the car and sighed. He really did look disreputable. Especially sporting a black eye and torn shirt as he was now. No wonder Ed always looked askance at him. Wait until he found out about this latest escapade. "No problem, Fred," she said. "Mind telling me how bad the other guy looks?"
He grinned his infamous crooked grin. In spite of hair that fell well past his collar and always seemed in need of combing, he usually managed to get interested looks from females in his vicinity. Sheila maintained that it was because of that rakish grin. Fred wasn’t about to argue with her. "I think I broke his nose."
"Aren’t you just a bit old for brawling, Fred?"
His grin disappeared to be replaced with a scowl. "Damn it, Sheila! He deserved worse than that for what he did. He tore up my dissertation in front of a classful of students!"
"What?" She gave him a look of concern as she drove through the rain. "Fred, who did? Your professor?"
He nodded. "Not only that, but he made fun of some of the points of it to his class, trying to make me out to be some kind of idiot. I wasn’t about to stand for that."
"No, of course not." She frowned. "But, Fred? Doesn’t he have to approve your dissertation before you can graduate with your doctorate?"
He grimaced and gave her a sheepish look. "Actually, it doesn’t matter now. I’ve been suspended because of this little incident. I won’t be graduating at all."
"Oh, Fred."
"It’s okay, Sheila. I was tired of having him tell me my theories were stupid. Hell, the entire scientific community is bogged down by their own inability to see what’s staring them in the face! Well, I don’t need a school to endorse what I know to be truth. They can hide all they want in their platitudes about cycles and weather patterns. One day they’ll wake up, and it’ll be too late. Then they’ll know I was right! Call me an alarmist, will they?"
Sheila let him blow off steam in that manner for several minutes, then ventured a question. "What was your doctoral thesis on, Fred?"
He looked over at her and gave a small smile. Sheila wasn’t just the best rock-and-roller he’d ever worked with; she was also a good friend. He had always counted on her to listen when he needed an attentive ear, and since she was as knowledgeable as any scientist and a lot more open-minded, their discussions had often gone on for hours. Since her marriage, there hadn’t been many opportunities to just sit and discuss the newest research in their respective fields, but he knew that didn’t mean she wasn’t interested. Sheila had always reminded him of his mother’s housecat--- forever curious. Now he sighed. His topic was going to sound really wild without any of the facts presented first. "My title was: How Soon Calamity? A Deeper Look at the Earth’s Crust and Its Movements."
She blinked, but made no comment for several minutes as she manuevered through traffic. Finally she said, "Does it look bad, Fred?"
He felt weary all of a sudden. He’d wasted his morning trying to reason with a scholarly idiot, then trying to figure out what to do next while at the police station. Trust Sheila to go directly to the heart of the issue without any dithering. "Yeah," he answered. "It’s not a pretty picture."
Sheila said nothing more about it as she drove into the parking area for his block of flats. Rain was still pouring down in sheets, and it was difficult to make out the individual buildings among the landscaping. "Is this your new place?"
"Yeah," he said. "I’m almost completely unpacked now. You’ll have to come up and see it soon."
"Definitely." Sheila tried to see the flats better through the rain. "I think I know someone who lives out here, Fred."
"Oh, yeah? Cool."
When he went to get out of the car, she said quietly, "I’d like to read your dissertation sometime."
He gave her a grin and a nod as he stood in the rain. "Sure. Anytime."
***
"What is it, Lieutenant?" Alec asked as he entered the Command Sphere on Moonbase. His hair was rumpled from sleep, but he had taken a moment to dress before answering the summons.
Ayshea made way for him at the center console. "A sighting, sir. Two UFOs. Speed, SOL 16."
"16?" he asked incredulously.
"SID confirmed it. Shall we launch the interceptors, sir?"
"Not yet. Get me SHADO Control, will you?"
"Yes, sir." She sat at the nearest console and called up HQ on Earth. "SHADO Control for you, sir."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Col. Freeman said. He turned to the monitor as Straker’s image appeared on the screen. "Hello, Ed. Are you tracking them?"
"Yes, Alec. They’ve just come up on our planetary radar. We’re clocking them at SOL 16. They’re in pretty tight formation for those speeds."
"That what we’ve got, too. We’ll never be able to intercept at this rate. What do you advise?"
"Do you have the trajectory termination yet?"
Alec glanced over at Ayshea, who nodded and said, "Southern France, sir."
"It looks like Southern France, Ed," Freeman told his friend. "Pretty close to home."
"Yes. But it also means that we can get the ground crews out quickly to track them when they land."
Alec frowned. "But, Ed. At those speeds, there won’t be anything left of them to track."
Straker nodded. "True. But hopefully they’ll decelerate once in the atmosphere. Cross your fingers for us, Alec."
Freeman grinned. "Will do. Moonbase out."
***
The UFOs were coming in fast and thick. Inside the Command Sphere, Joan could hear them as they whizzed past, bombarding the lunar surface nearby with their lasers. Her, Nina, and Gay had their spacesuits on and helmets with the faceplates up. "We’ve got to get out of here!" she told them urgently. "Before they hit the sphere!"
The two women ignored her and continued at their posts. Brilliant light flooded the sphere as a lunar mobile exploded a short distance away. Joan gasped, but the others seemed oblivious. She ran to Nina and pulled on her arm, trying to get her out of her seat at the console. "Come on! We’ve got to go! Now!"
Nina turned a calm face to her and said, "Oh, Joan. Stop worrying. It’s not so bad being Earthside. You’ll get used to it. Just look at us."
"No! You don’t understand!" Joan moaned. "They’re attacking! Can’t you hear them?"
Gay turned from her position at the center console. "Just stop it, Joan. You’re letting yourself get overwrought. Marriage isn’t what you think. It can be everything you’ve ever wanted. You’ll see."
Joan backed away from them, shaking her head frantically. "No! You’re wrong! And you’re going to die if you don’t come this instant!" Receiving no response from her friends, she gave a sob and ran for the door. Outside in the corridor, she could still hear the sounds of destruction going on all around. She jumped when an enormous explosion rocked the ground beneath her feet.
"The Sleep Sphere!" she moaned, closing her eyes against the thought of the men and women who had been asleep there. She grimly lowered her faceplate and locked it into position as she headed for the outer doors. As they opened and she glimpsed the lunar surface, an explosion behind her knocked her off her feet. She went flying through the doorway, landing softly in the dust many meters away. She scrambled to her feet and looked back. Moonbase was nothing but rubble. She heard sounds of sobbing above the continuous explosions that rocked the surface and realized with a start that they were coming from her. Collapsing to her knees in the lunar dust, she stared at the remains of her home for the past fifteen years. God, she thought. Straker was going to be pissed about this.
She looked up just in time to see a large UFO spinning above her. "Damn you to hell!" she screamed in the confines of her helmet as the alien ship shot its laser downward at her.
Joan sat straight up in bed, gasping for breath. Her chest hurt, and she clutched it as she ordered her lungs to breathe, just breathe. After a few minutes, she was able to relax and wipe the tears from her face. God! What a nightmare that had been! Suddenly, she frowned. She had thought on first waking that the loud beat she was hearing was her heart against her ribs. But now that she was calmer, she realized that the sound was something else entirely. Her eyes narrowed as she glanced at the ceiling. Who the hell was playing drums at this time of day?
Galvanized by the thought, she leapt out of bed and ran out of the room. Unlatching the front door of her flat, she had a momentary twinge. She was dressed only in an overlarge t-shirt for sleeping, after all. Perhaps she should take a minute and change. But her blood was still pumping from her nightmare, and she wanted badly to smash someone’s face, preferably an alien’s. But she’d take what she could get. Grinning fiercely, she yanked open the door and headed up the stairs at a run.
She pounded on the door to the upstairs flat until it opened. She was ready with an entire monologue of curses for the idiot who didn’t have the decency to be quiet when people were trying to sleep, but her tongue dried up at the sight of the man standing so shocked in the doorway. He was tall and lean. And wearing nothing but a pair of faded low-riding jeans. Joan’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at his muscled torso. Her eyes went to his face, and she felt her brain dissolve into mush. Green eyes. He had the greenest eyes.
And he was staring at her as if she was berserk. She gulped and tried to reassemble enough brain cells to speak. "Um... I’m from downstairs."
Fred relaxed slightly. He had been alarmed when the pounding began at the door, but on seeing what stood on the other side, he had instantly decided that any emergency was worth this kind of trouble. Now she stood there as if she had forgotten why she came, and he couldn’t help grinning at her. She was just so cute with her wide eyes and sexy little body delineated nicely beneath that flimsy t-shirt she was wearing. He opened the door wider for her to enter his flat, saying, "Well, then. Hello, neighbor."
Joan blinked. Was he coming on to her? Her eyes narrowed as she met that grin. Of all the nerve! Her brain began functioning normally again, and she said in a firmer tone, "I was trying to sleep, but someone was blasting away on the drums up here." She looked accusingly at the stylish drum set in the raised corner of the sparsely furnished room and back to the drumsticks still in his hand and added, "Would that have been you?"
Fred looked sheepish for a moment, running his free hand through his disheveled hair. "Yeah, I guess so. I wasn’t even sure anyone lived in that flat. I’ve been here almost a month, and I’ve never seen you."
"I’m away a lot. On business."
"Oh. Well, I’m Fred." And he stuck out his hand to shake hers.
Joan looked disparagingly at it. "I’m tired," she replied. "And it’s been a long morning already. Do you think you could refrain from making so much noise, so that I can rest?"
Fred said, "Well, I’ve got to get my three hours in sometime today. But I suppose I could hold off until about four before I finish up."
"Five," she snapped and headed back out of the flat.
He watched her lovely body sway beneath the t-shirt as she stormed off and couldn’t resist calling after her, "Four. And say, do you always run around dressed like that?"
Joan whirled around at the top of the stairs, unknowingly giving him an even better view of her charms as the sunlight from the window behind her outlined her shape beneath the cotton t-shirt. She glared at him. But all she managed to say as she headed downstairs was, "Five."
ACT III
"Well, Lieutenant?"
Lt. Ford looked at his commanding officer while listening to the voice on his headset. "The transporter is on its way, sir. With the planetary radar, we’ve been able to fix their termination just south of Lourdes near the Pyrenees."
"Good. That’s a fairly remote spot. Any chance the mobiles will be seen by civilians?"
Keith frowned in thought, recalling what he knew of the area. "I don’t think so, sir. As you say, it’s pretty remote."
Straker nodded. "Right. What’s Sky 4's ETA?"
The lieutenant checked. "Five minutes, sir."
The commander watched the blips race across the radar screen for a moment, then said grimly, "That’s cutting it close."
Keith deemed it unwise to respond. Straker knew as well as he did that the odds of them intercepting those UFOs before they crashed was very small. They were just going too fast. Suddenly, he leaned forward over his controls and checked the readings. "Sir!" he said. "They’re slowing down."
Straker came closer. "What’s the speed?"
"SOL 8. SOL 7. SOL 4.5, and decreasing."
The commander walked over to where the map had been laid out for him on one of the consoles. After spending a few moments calculating, he looked up and told Ford, "Get me Sky 4."
"Yes, sir."
Straker came over to the lieutenant’s station and got on the microphone. "Capt. Powell?"
"Yes, sir," answered Sky 4's pilot, a man with many years fighting against aliens behind him.
"It’ll be close, Captain," Straker told him. "Even at reduced speeds, they’re still at crash velocity."
"I understand, sir," replied the captain, who cherished hopes of getting at least one shot off against the bastards.
"If it comes down to a choice, Powell, I want you to aim for the second UFO rather than the first."
The captain frowned, but did not question the order. Straker might be a bit of an ass, but the man had the uncanny ability of outwitting their adversary. "Right. No problem, sir."
Soon he radioed back. "Coming into visual range now, sir. Good God! Commander, the second UFO is firing on the first one!"
That hard voice came over the speaker in his helmet. "Get it, Captain!"
"Yes, sir!" Capt. Powell banked and came in behind the second UFO, letting off his missile. Because of the extreme speed of the craft, his missile did not hit dead center and destroy the UFO. However, it damaged it heavily, causing it to spiral toward the mountain range below in a red cloud. The other UFO had been badly hit by the other craft, and the Skyjet pilot followed it down as far as he dared before radioing back to HQ its precise position.
"Thank you, Captain," Straker told him with a grim smile. "Good work."
***
Sheila came bursting into the Medical Centre as soon as she heard. Straker came away from the hospital bed and took her by the arms, not at all pleased at being interrupted. "Sheila, let us handle this."
She shook her head, her eyes beseeching him. "Ed, please! I might be able to help. You’ve got to let me try!"
From behind him, Straker heard Jackson say, "She is right, Commander. He may speak to her."
Straker turned slightly to tell the doctor what he thought of that proposal, but just then the alien caught sight of Sheila beyond the commander’s shoulder.
"Sheila!" he gasped.
As Straker’s eyes narrowed to look closely at the alien, his wife took the opportunity to shake off his restraining hands and approach the bed. Her heart turned over when she recognized the man lying there so pale and spent. "Mattimeo!" she whispered, her eyes filling up with tears.
He swallowed, grasping her arm in a weak grip as he tried to speak. "Timon..."
He was clearly dying, and Sheila laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don’t tax yourself," she told him.
He shook his head feebly. "Must... warn you. Kodos... plot... destroy... destroy..." His eyes glazed over, and his hand fell away as he died.
"Mattimeo!" Sheila collapsed against the hospital bed with a sob. When her husband took her by the shoulders to lift her away from the alien, she jerked away from him and angrily dashed at the tears streaming down her face. Looking one last time at her old friend and fellow soldier, she reached out and gently closed his eyes with one shaking hand. She murmured the ancient burial chant of his people into his unresponsive ear, then let Straker lead her over to a nearby chair so that Jackson could examine him.
She sat docilely enough while the commander and the doctor discussed the situation, but Straker nonetheless kept sending her worried glances. Finally, Dr. Jackson covered the body with a sheet and came around the bed to where she sat. Getting on his knees in order to be eye level with her, he said softly, "Col. Straker?"
Sheila had been staring off into space, but at the sound of her name, her eyes focused on the doctor’s face. She said nothing, but Jackson considered it enough that he had her attention.
"Colonel, what did he say to you?"
She blinked, her brow furrowing for a moment as if the question confused her. Then it cleared. Of course! She and Mattimeo had been speaking Tuataran, not English. She ran a shaky hand over her face, brushing the hair out of her eyes. "He said..." After stopping a moment to clear her throat, she continued. "He told me that Timon had sent him here to warn us about something that Kodos was planning."
"Who’s Kodos?" the doctor asked quietly.
She drew a breath. "Kodos is the Thoelian leader. He took Ming’s place after... after I killed him."
"Did he say what the plan was?" her husband asked briskly, wanting to direct her thoughts away from that memory.
She looked up at him, shaking her head. "No. Just that he meant to destroy."
"Destroy what?" Straker asked.
"I don’t know."
"Could it be this facility?" asked the doctor.
Sheila frowned, thinking over Mattimeo’s words. Then she gave her husband a worried glance. "I think... Ed, I think he was referring to Earth. As a whole."
Straker took her hand as it moved restlessly on the arm of the chair. "Are you certain, Sheila?"
She nodded slowly. "He said destroy. But there are several words that mean the same thing or similar things in Tuataran. The term he used was caoso, which we would translate as chaos. It’s an all-encompassing term, meaning the destruction of everything." She demonstrated with a swirl of her arm.
He was silent a moment, absorbing the implications. Then he said, "It would explain why he took the risk to come here. He had to have known he wouldn’t survive to return home."
"Yes." She squeezed his hand tightly. "He would have known that it was a one-way trip."
"Do you have any idea what kind of destruction he was referring to, Colonel? A bomb, perhaps. Or something else?" Jackson asked.
She shook her head again. "I’m so sorry. He was trying to tell me. There just wasn’t enough time left."
The doctor looked to Straker, who said firmly, "Well, we appreciate the warning. But without more details, there’s very little we can do to prepare in advance. For now, I’d like it kept quiet. There’s no need to panic everyone."
"Very well, Commander," Jackson said with a Slavic bow.
Straker gave him a nod, but waited for his wife’s response. "All right, Ed," she said.
***
Joan pulled into the parking lot of the flats feeling irritable. Damn it, she was tired! But at least the rain had stopped. She'd had no business trying to go grocery shopping on so little sleep. But she'd been singularly unsuccessful in falling back asleep after her run-in with her new neighbor. Her body still felt wired from the encounter, and every time she had closed her eyes, his green eyes had been there laughing at her. Jerk!
She had very little tolerance for grocery lines at the best of times, and she knew well that today was a far cry from that. But she'd managed not to scream at the idiots ahead of her in line and considered it a great victory on her part that she'd shown such restraint. She fully intended to reward herself by fixing her favorite pasta for a late luncheon and finishing it off with a huge bowl of ice cream. She wasn't one to complain usually, but there was definitely something wrong with the way Moonbase's ice cream tasted. Or maybe it was the texture. Whatever it was, it wasn't the dessert it was supposed to be. So she compensated by keeping her freezer well-stocked with her favorite flavors for those few days a month when she was home. She was wondering which flavor she was in the mood for when she tried to pull into her parking space.
And found it already taken. She braked and glared at the two motorcycles that blocked her spot. Fools! Couldn't they see the sign designating this section for tenants only? Luxury flats had their perks, and one of them was your own personal parking space. So who the hell was in hers?
Her eyes narrowed as she noticed that the parking space next to hers also contained two motorcycles. The parking space that was designated for the tenant in Flat 4. Her new upstairs neighbor. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he had company. Plenty of company. Great. Just great. She yanked the wheel around and parked across the way, muttering wonderfully inventive curses under her breath.
Her fury took her swiftly into the building and up the stairs to his door, where once again, she pounded loudly. "Look, you...!" she began almost before the door was fully open, ready to loose her wrath upon him and anyone else in the vicinity.
But he disarmed her completely by grinning and saying, "Hi, neighbor. Come on in." He turned and said, "Hey, guys. This is my neighbor from downstairs. You know, the flat that's always empty? Well, someone lives there after all."
Joan was pulled into the flat by a bear of a man, who shook her hand vigorously and said, "Hi, there! Name's Cody. Howzit going?"
Before she could answer, her hand was grabbed several more times and shaken. It seemed almost as if the room was full of men, but after a dazed moment or two, she realized that there were only four of them. Four. Four men. Four motorcycles. It didn't take a genius. She looked over at Fred to see him leaning against the door with his arms folded, enjoying her confusion. She gave him a glare that should have reduced him to ash, then turned and smiled at the man directly in front of her. What had he said his name was? Jay? "You look familiar," she said, trying to place him.
He nodded. "Yeah. It took me a minute. You're Joan, aren't you? We met at Sheila's."
Her eyes widened. "Oh! That's it! You know Sheila?"
"Know her?" said Cody with a rumbling laugh. "Strike me! We practically live with her!"
"We're her band," said Fred from behind her.
Joan glanced from him to his drum set and said, "Oh."
The red-haired man, who'd introduced himself as Rusty, nudged Jay in the ribs, saying knowingly, "Not a rock-n-roll fan."
Jay shook his head solemnly at this, while Cody made tsking noises.
Joan had to suppress an unwary giggle. "Listen, Jay. Do you guys belong to those motorcycles?"
"Uh-oh," said Rusty. "Guess we're in the lady's parking spot, fellas."
She couldn't help smiling as they all looked contrite. Except Fred, but she wasn't looking at him, so he didn't matter. "It wouldn't be a problem, except that I just got groceries, and where I'm parked now is a ways from the door."
"Well, then," said Jay as he took her arm. "We'll just have to fix that, won't we, guys?" He waltzed her through the door, held open by a grinning Fred, and said as they all trooped after them down the stairs, "Groceries, you say? Well, a pretty thing like you shouldn't be carrying a bunch of groceries. What do you think, guys?" There was a chorus of agreement behind him. "See?" he said with a wink as they left the building.
It took a little time for them to get their motorcycles situated in other spots, but they were as good as their word and carried her sacks inside for her. There weren't enough for all of them to carry, so Jay handed her purse to Fred, saying, "Here. You get the heaviest."
Joan laughed in spite of herself. Her purse was always overfull. She had never understood how other women managed to carry those tiny little palm sized purses. Her purse was more aptly described as a duffel bag. "I really appreciate this, you guys."
"No problem," Jay said. "So how do you know Sheila, Joan?"
"I work with her."
Complete silence greeted this comment, but as she looked at them in bewilderment, Rusty said solemnly, "Then you work for her old man."
Joan nearly choked and was glad to turn away to unlock her door. Old man? "Um... yeah. I work for Straker. Don't you like him?"
No one was quick to answer that one, but Jay asked as they entered her flat, "What's he like to work for?"
"Oh, about what you'd expect," she said with a shrug.
"That bad, huh?" said Cody.
"No. He's just..." She trailed off, unsure just how to describe him.
Fred said, "He can't be all bad, because Sheila likes him."
Cody was shaking his head. "I never could fathom that myself. What's she see in him? Man, every time I look at him, he pins me to the wall."
Joan asked, "Pins you to the wall?"
The big man shrugged. "Yeah. Like a fly."
She tried to imagine him as a fly and had to bite back another giggle. "Right in here, guys," she said as she directed them to the kitchen.
Rusty said suddenly, "Yeah, but he doesn’t give Sheila that kind of look. That must be what she sees in him. It's the way he looks at her."
Everyone looked at him in surprise, and he added, "You know, the wedding?"
"Oh, yeah!" Jay said with a grin, as if that explained everything. "The wedding."
The other men were also nodding in understanding, so Joan didn't ask what they meant. But she assumed it had something to do with Sheila's wedding, which she hadn't been able to attend. Someone had needed to remain on Moonbase.
"You've got a nice place here," Cody told her as they left the kitchen. "It's nicer than Fred's flat."
"That's because she has furniture!" Rusty said disparagingly, which earned him a punch in the arm from Fred.
"Hey, Fred!" Jay said. "Check out the cool rock."
Fred had indeed noticed the large rock sitting on top of the television set, and he went over to give it a closer inspection.
Joan shifted her feet nervously. "It's just a rock," she said dismissively. "Nothing major."
"Yeah, but Fred here's a geologist," explained Jay. "Rocks are his first, last, and only love."
"Shut up, Jay," Fred replied absently as he fingered the rock. His brilliant eyes gave Joan a piercing glance before he turned toward the door.
"That's right," elaborated Rusty. "That's how Fred joined our little band. He saw an ad for a rock group and thought..." He broke off with a chuckle as Fred punched his arm again. "Watch it, Fred, or I’ll give you another black eye to match the one you’ve got!"
Fred only grinned and put up his fists. Cody clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to stagger him forward a few steps.
"So, Joan," Jay said amidst their laughter. "It was nice to see you again. Do you have a boyfriend, by any chance?"
"Cut it out, Jay!" Fred said in disgust. The others just rolled their eyes. Apparently, this was nothing new with Jay.
"No," she told him, holding back a smile. "And I don't want one either. They're more trouble than they're worth."
He winked at her. "You haven't tried me yet."
"I said, cut it out," Fred said and gave him a shove out the door.
***
"Hey, are you okay?"
Sheila looked up from the report in her lap and smiled at her cousin. "Yeah. I’m fine, Gay. Come on in."
Gay Sarek entered Sheila’s office, which to her mind couldn’t really be called an office at all. There was no desk, just a filing cabinet in the corner, several plants, and two comfortable couches opposite each other with a coffee table between. She sat down across from Sheila and looked her over carefully. She did seem to be fine. "I’m sorry about your friend, Sheila."
"Thanks. He was a good man. And fiercely loyal. I don’t know how Timon will do without him."
Gay was silent a moment, then asked softly, "Do you ever miss it?"
Sheila was surprised. "No. It wasn’t exactly an enjoyable time, Gay. I suppose it sounds very exciting with all the danger and intrigue, but the truth is that it was the only way to survive. And not a particularly good way either."
"Do you know why he came here?"
Her cousin shook her head, looking down at the papers in her hand. "We may never know, Gay," she said sadly. Until it’s too late.
"What about the other alien?"
Sheila looked up. "What?" She had only been told about one alien being captured.
Gay gestured. "You know, the one from the ship that was following him. Can’t you ask that one?"
Her cousin’s expression froze for an instant, then she relaxed against the back of the couch and twirled her pen. "I don’t know," she replied softly.
ACT IV
"Col. Straker," Dr. Jackson said urbanely as she entered the Medical Centre’s lab.
Sheila smiled. "Were you expecting me, Doctor?"
Jackson allowed himself a small grimace that might have been mistaken for a smile. "Sooner or later. Yes. It was really only a matter of time before you found out about the other alien."
"I want to see him."
Jackson flicked a glance at her, then said slowly, "That is not possible, Colonel. I think you know why."
Her lips tightened, but she swallowed the remark she wanted to make and said instead, "Look. You know as well as I do the importance of finding out what Kodos is up to. Earth’s future may depend on it. Face it, Jackson. Even if you got him to talk--- which you won’t--- you wouldn’t understand him. Let me try."
"What makes you so sure we won’t make him talk, Sheila?"
She walked over to the glass wall separating the lab from the hospital room and glanced at the alien on the bed. "Because I assumed--- correctly as it turns out--- that it would be one of Kodos’ generals that was sent after Mattimeo. That’s Kurn you’ve got there."
The doctor eyed her closely. "You know him?"
"Yes." She grinned at his expression. "Not well. But we’ve raided his fortress before."
"He has his own fortress apart from Kodos’?"
She nodded, watching the alien in the other room. "Yes. All of the generals do. They’re spread out over the surface of the planet. Kodos only calls one in when there’s something important to discuss. Otherwise, they are their own little gods over their territory."
"I see," he said, resting his hands beneath his chin in a contemplative gesture. "That explains a great deal."
Sheila grinned. "Glad to know I could be of assistance, Doctor." She left the wall and approached him. "Let me try to get him to talk. Please."
He shook his head. "Colonel, the commander would have my head if I let you in there. If you wish to speak to him, ask your husband."
She put her hands on her hips. "Damn it, Jackson! You know what he’d say!"
"Yes. I do."
"But he’s wrong. I am quite capable of handling Kurn without falling apart. Compared to Ming, he’s nothing but a weasel. You’ve got to let me speak to him. It may be our only chance to find out what’s going on!"
The doctor sighed. "I happen to agree with the commander’s orders concerning you, Colonel. Although my reasons are somewhat different."
She gave him an exasperated look. "I’m not about to chop him into pieces, Doctor! Look!" She spread her arms wide. "I’m not even armed."
He could see that she was, indeed, quite weaponless. "If harm comes to you..."
She grinned in triumph as she headed out of the lab. "I’ll be fine. Besides, you’ll be watching and can rescue me if necessary!"
***
"Hey, Dad! I heard the news."
Straker looked up from reading reports as his son walked into his HQ office. "Hello, John. Yes, two aliens. They were definitely up to something, travelling at those breakneck speeds."
John sat down in one of the office chairs. "Do you have any idea what they were trying to accomplish?"
His father shook his head, sitting back in his leather chair with folded hands. "Not really. Apparently, one of them was trying to get us information about a plot from the Thoelians. He’s dead now. We learned very little from him before he died. The other one seems to have been sent to stop him from relaying that information."
"Hmmm." John rubbed his chin. "Then, he succeeded."
"Yes. Although he’s not aware of that fact. It would be nice to know what was so important."
"Yeah. Is there any way of getting him to talk?"
Straker shook his head. "We’ve never had any success in the past with that, John. It’s doubtful we’d have a breakthrough now. No, he’ll die having done what he set out to do. But I’ll be damned if I give him the satisfaction of knowing it."
"Dad?" John seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he asked, "Have you considered having Sheila try to talk to him? I mean, she’d understand the language and everything, if she did get him to talk. Wouldn’t that be worth a try?"
Straker ran a hand across his eyes. "Yes. In theory. But it’s not such an easy thing in reality, John. Sheila went through so much at their hands. The last thing I want is for her to be traumatised by having to face one of them again. The risk is just too great."
"Yeah, but..." John thought for a minute. "It must have been a big deal for them to have come here like that. She might think it’s worth any risk to find out what he knows."
"She might," his father agreed grimly. "But I’m not giving her the option."
John met that steely gaze and cleared his throat. "Um... I see. Well." He decided it might behoove him to change the subject. "Did you have fun last night at the Williams’? I was sorry to see you guys leave so early. Edith and I got into a really neat conversation after you left. Hell, Em and I didn’t leave their house until the wee hours!"
Straker’s grim look only deepened. "Did you?"
"Yeah. You know, I’ve got to hand it to Sheila. She is one sly lady."
"What do you mean?"
John shrugged. "Her timing was impeccable. Waiting until we’d announced the baby on the way to tell me about Edith’s little hobby. I’ve got to hand it to her." He shifted in his chair. "Say, Dad. Did you know about Edith being into time travel?"
Straker looked away from those blue eyes so like his own. "I’d heard something about it, I believe."
"Hmmm. What do you think of us becoming parents, huh? Pretty wild, isn’t it?"
His father smiled. "I think it’s wonderful news, John."
"Yeah." John grinned for a while, dwelling on his new status as an expectant parent. "I still haven’t come down from when Emily first told me. I feel like I’m flying without a jet. It reminds me of some of the space walks I’ve done, you know? Heady stuff, becoming a father. Was it like that for you when you found out about me, Dad?"
Straker considered. "Not quite, John. The circumstances were somewhat different. I had just recently met Sheila, for one thing, and I was pretty torn between my duty to Mary and my love for Sheila at that point. When I learned that Mary was expecting, it was both a blow and a relief. A blow to any plans to be with Sheila, but a relief to have the decision taken out of my hands."
"I can see that, I guess," John said quietly.
His father nodded. "Once that was passed, yes. It was rather a heady concept to know that I’d helped create a life. And when you were born, I was beside myself."
"Well, I know it was a pretty rough time for you. With my mother throwing a fit and everything, then falling down the stairs. I’ll bet you were terrified."
"Yes," Straker said softly. "But that’s not what I meant. Even with all those worries, it was just so amazing to see you, John. So tiny and perfect. I can’t describe it."
"Wow. Well, I guess I have that to look forward to, huh?"
"It’ll be here sooner than you think."
"And you’ll be a grandpa."
Straker looked surprised for a moment, then grinned. "Grandpa! Well, that’s a name I never thought I’d have."
John chuckled. "I don’t know. I think it suits you fine."
"Really?"
He looked so pleased that John had to stifle a laugh. "Sure, Dad. I can see it now. Of course, you’ll have to give up your cool car. It doesn’t fit the image. I think a nice sedate Mercedes is in order. Something in a grey or tan would do the trick. I’d be happy to take your old car off your hands for you."
Straker chuckled. "I’m sure you would. And you’re not touching my car! I’ll just have to be an eccentric old grandpa."
John choked. There was silence in the office for a few minutes, each man thinking his own thoughts. Then John said, "You know, Dad. I still can’t get over Sheila dropping that information into my lap like that last night. She doesn’t look it, but she’s as sly as they come, isn’t she?"
"I’m not sure what you mean, John."
"Well, hell! She knew it was okay for me to learn how to get back to my own world. I mean, like I would leave here now or anything!"
"You wouldn’t?" Straker asked softly.
"Are you kidding? Leave Emily and our baby? I couldn’t do it. I miss my family, Dad. Don’t get me wrong. Sometimes it hits me right between the ribs, and I wonder how I’ll get along without them. But I have Emily. And you. It’s funny. If I was to go back now, I don’t think I’d get along with my father very well. I like you better the way you are here. And Emily. Hell, I’d spend all my time trying to find her. But she’d be so much older, and probably married to some other chap by the time I found her. And Sheila. You two are such a trip, you know. If I went back, I don’t know. I think I’d be uncomfortable around you and Mom. Your marriage just isn’t the same."
Straker looked inquiring. "In what way?"
John shrugged. "It’s just... different. You’re happier, I think. You and Sheila. And relaxed. As if you’re right where you want to be. You know?"
His father did know. Nothing had centered his life more than having Sheila in it. And knowing she felt the same way about him made everything seem in its proper place for the first time in his life. "I think so," he answered with a sigh. It was difficult to remain angry with her after being reminded of her importance to him. He’d have to apologize. Fortunately, Sheila had never been one to make him beg for forgiveness.
"Say, Dad? You weren’t in on that, were you? I mean, letting me know the possibilities of time travel that way? Did you put Sheila up to it?"
"No, John." Straker took a breath. "She managed that one on her own."
"Well, it was priceless," his son said with a grin. "Not that I would have gone any other time. I’m happy to be here, Dad."
"I’m glad to hear it." Straker sat forward in his chair. "You should tell her. I think she’d be delighted to know how you feel about it."
"Sure." John stood up. "Do you know where she is?"
"In her office, I believe."
"No, she wasn’t in when I walked by. Could she be upstairs in the studio?"
Straker looked briefly concerned, then his face became bland. "It’s possible, John."
"Well, I’m taking Em out for dinner to a posh restaurant tonight to celebrate. You two want to join us?"
"Not tonight, John. Some celebrations are better with just two."
John grinned. "You’re right. Okay. Maybe we can invite you to dinner at our house sometime this week."
"I’m sure we’d love to come."
"Great!"
Straker closed the office door after his son left, but did not return to reading reports. He sat brooding for several minutes, staring fixedly at a point somewhere across the room. Suddenly his eyes widened, and he got up hurriedly and left the office.
***
Joan was just sitting down on her comfortable couch a little later with her meal when the doorbell rang. She frowned, wondering who it could be. Her job kept her from having many friends Earthside, and those she did possess knew that her first day home was always a day to rest and relax. No company allowed! But as she peeked through the peephole in her door, she felt her heart skip a beat. It was her new neighbor from upstairs. She was so irritated at her reaction to seeing him there that she scowled.
Fred decided not to make a comment on her expression when she opened the door. He understood that women had moods. "Hi, Joan."
"Hullo," she said as she leaned against the door. Obviously she wasn’t about to invite him inside.
So he took it upon himself to invite himself. He held out the plate of brownies he carried and backed her into the room with them, saying, "I wanted to apologize for all the trouble we were today. It’s not a good policy to have your neighbors mad at you, you know."
She accepted the plate and eyed the brownies critically. They looked wonderfully gooey, just the way she liked them, and she wondered how he had known.
As if anticipating her question, he said, "I always kept a batch on hand at my old flat for Sheila when we’d be jamming, and it’s a habit now."
"Well, thanks," she said, then thought perhaps that sounded a bit ungracious and added, "They look really good."
He sniffed the air meaningfully and said, "Whatever you’re cooking smells good, too." In fact, the delicious smell had been taunting him for a half hour, until he simply had to do something about it.
"It’s lasagna," she said dismissively, but was not proof against his hopeful expression. "Have you eaten?"
"No," he replied, which was sort of true. He didn’t consider the contents of his cupboard to be real food. Not anything that rated as high as lasagna, at least.
She sighed. "Would you care to join me?" He wasn’t the only one who could make peace, she thought.
"Sure. What can I do to help?" he said, moving toward the small dining table in the corner. "Shall I clear this off for you and set the table?"
Joan looked at the mound of unopened mail and paperback novels scattered on her table and said, "No. Don’t bother. I never use the table, really. I usually sit on the couch."
Even better, he thought, trying to keep the grin off his face. "No problem."
She made him up a heaping plate of the mouth-watering dish, over twice what she had on her plate, so he was pretty sure that she either had brothers or was used to being around guys. He intended to find out which it was in the very near future. In fact, he intended to find out every little detail of her life just as soon as he could. There was just something about that sassy mouth of hers that made his head spin. It was a novel feeling, and he liked it. Very much.
She had a movie all set to play on her VCR, but looked at him hesitantly before turning it on. "What is it?" he asked.
"I have weird tastes in movies," she said, sounding embarrassed.
Now he was really intrigued. "Oh?"
"I couldn’t decide whether to watch an old movie or a new one."
"What’s the old one?"
She grimaced. "My Man Godfrey."
He looked at her in surprise. "Really? That’s my mom’s favorite."
Joan smiled in relief. "It’s one of mine, too. I like to play it when I’ve had a hard day. It makes me laugh and puts me in a better mood."
"Well, I’m sorry you’ve had a bad day," he said softly.
"Oh!" she said, blushing. "I didn’t mean...!"
Fred couldn’t help grinning. "No, it’s okay. Um, what’s the other movie?"
Her blush deepened. "It’s... um... Aliens."
His brow lifted. "Aliens? As in Sigourney Weaver’s second Alien movie?"
"You’ve seen it?"
"I love it!" he said simply.
"Yeah?" she said in relief, glad that he didn’t find it odd for a girl to like a blood and guts movie like that one. "Mr. Straker’s negotiating for a third movie in the series right now."
"Whoa! That’s great!"
Joan grinned. "That’s what I think." She held up the case. "Shall we watch that one then?"
"Sure." He dug into his pasta as he watched her switch movies and start the show. His eyes kept straying to the rock on top of the TV throughout the opening credits, however. "What do you do at the studio, Joan?" he asked.
"Oh, I look for locations for movies. I check out possible sites and see if they’re available to use and that."
"So, you go all over," he said.
She nodded. "Just about. And I’m on the road a lot. That’s why I’m seldom here."
"I see." He frowned for a moment, staring at the enormous rock. Then he said, "Where did you pick up that guy?"
She met his eyes in surprise. "Oh. Um..." She would have liked to tell him her standard answer; that she got it in her travels. But since he was a geologist, she didn’t think that answer would work very well. "It was a gift."
He raised a brow. "Must be some friend."
"What do you mean?"
"I haven’t seen moonrocks that large in museums."
"Oh." She was saved from trying to come up with a plausible explanation by the frightening scene where Ripley had her nightmare, and talk ceased while the pace of the action built toward the final climax.
***
"Seeg Kurn."
The Thoelian on the hospital bed was in pain. He had endured Earth’s pathetic attempts to treat his wounds, but knew it was just a matter of time before he died. And a short time at that. He had cherished great plans of conquest for his life. How bitter was the taste of his mortality now! At the hands of a pitiful enemy. In this hellhole. He had been basking in frustrated anger, feeling something approaching euphoria in the annihilating bitterness that coursed through his veins. But at the sound of his name, his eyes opened involuntarily, and he looked toward the door.
And sat up in surprise. "You! Here?"
Sheila stood by the door, her grin fierce. "Me," she answered. "Here."
Kurn rose from the hospital bed, forcing his weakened legs to hold his weight. "I had thought you dead long since. You, who dared to kill Ming! You should be dead. A slow and gruesome death is the fit reward for one such as you!"
She nodded as if in agreement, but said, "Instead, it is you who will die, Kurn." Her head cocked to the side a bit as her smile widened. "Life is so unfair, isn’t it?"
His fists clenched in response and his black eyes burned with hate, but he hadn’t enough energy to attack her. He knew it was necessary to conserve what remained of his strength if he hoped to have the chance to kill her. So. He would just have to bring her to him. "You will die. Soon. You and all your worthless people with you!"
She took a step into the room. "Yes. Of course. Kodos’ big plan. Mattimeo was most helpful in explaining it to us. You failed your mission, Kurn. You didn’t stop him at all. Whatever would Kodos say to that?"
He had to unclench his jaw to answer her. "Knowledge matters not. Kodos’ plan is beyond brilliant! You will not stop it from descending upon you."
"Oh, but Kurn," she purred confidently, while inside her heart sank. It didn’t matter that they knew? It must, surely? Else, why did he follow Mattimeo here? "We will stop it. Have we not always thwarted every Thoelian plan in the past? This too will be unsuccessful. And won’t Kodos be pleased that you helped us by your inability to silence Mattimeo?"
"You cannot stop it!" he shouted, angered beyond reason. "Kodos’ plan was perfect! Some doubted. Ming himself refused it! But Kodos acted anyway, and you see the end of it. Kodos will rule Earth soon, and Ming is dead! Killed by a pathetic Earthling!"
Ming? Ming had been dead for more than thirteen years. If he had been involved, then how long-range was this scheme? "Doesn’t it drive you mad, Kurn?" she said, coming a bit closer. "To know that you’ve been beaten time and time again by a foe so unworthy of you?"
"It matters not!" he roared at her. "We have won! You cannot stop the utter destruction! It is already underway! Earth will soon be ours! And your dead bodies will furnish us with all we need for many years!"
ACT V
"What on Earth do you think you’re doing?"
Dr. Jackson had been so intent on the scene playing out in the next room that he jumped at the sound of the commander’s voice. He knew himself to be at a disadvantage with Straker, who was both his commander, whom he had disobeyed, and Sheila’s husband, who was undoubtedly concerned for her safety. Indeed, those icy blue eyes were very difficult to meet as he answered. "I am sorry, Commander. She insisted that she could make him talk."
"That’s beside the ...!"
Jackson interrupted smoothly. "But that is the point! She was right. He is talking to her!"
Straker frowned and went over to the glass wall to watch his wife. She seemed quite calm, but he sensed that she was worried. Whatever the Thoelian was telling her wasn’t good news. Which he supposed was obvious from the alien’s expression. It was contorted with rage. He could almost sympathise with the man. He wanted to yell at her himself. For disobeying him. For putting herself in danger. For being far more willing to take risks with her life than he was with her. He sighed. For being right. He said, "Have you been able to catch any of what they’re saying?"
The doctor let out a soft sigh of relief before answering. Nothing was as scathing as one of Straker’s icy setdowns. Even after twenty years, Jackson still dreaded his wrath. But apparently it had passed now. "No, Commander. I assume they are speaking Thoelian. It is a different tongue from the one she used earlier with the Tuataran."
Straker nodded his understanding, but did not venture a reply. His entire attention was focused on his wife in the next room.
***
Kurn felt the pain in his side increase and forced himself to relax. She was goading him. And he’d been letting her get to him. Well, two could play that game. He gave her a smirk that did nothing to hide the hate in his eyes and said, "We will always be superior to such a weak-willed race as you. Do you have any idea how easy it is to manipulate you to do our will? Sometimes it is not even necessary to reprogram you. You are such predictable fools!"
She lifted a brow. "And yet a mere Tuataran and a mere Earth organisation have brought you down, Kurn. It doesn’t bear thinking of!"
"Ah! But I injured him badly. And his partner I killed quite slowly." He looked introspective momentarily. "One pleasant thing about your two races is that you take so long to die."
Sheila’s heart stopped. Everyone knew that Mattimeo worked with only one partner. Mireya, his sister. If Kurn had killed her...! She took a quick step closer to him. "You lie!"
Kurn laughed harshly. "Indeed, it is quite true. The agonies you endure trying to survive are so amusing. So much easier on you if you’d just give up, but so much less entertaining. Mireya... I believe that was what she eventually told me her name was... something like that anyway. Did you know her?"
Sheila got up in his face, quivering with fury. "You bastard!"
Kurn grabbed her throat in both hands and squeezed.
***
Straker gasped and ran for the door of the lab, but Jackson’s voice stopped him.
"No, Commander!"
He looked back at the doctor incredulously. "Are you insane? He’s killing her!"
Jackson kept his eyes on the two in the next room. "I do not think so. Watch your wife!"
Straker followed his gaze to where the Thoelian stood with his hands around Sheila’s neck, slowly squeezing the life out of her. It was almost more than he could bear to see. He looked away, then back with a frown. Something was wrong. Sheila wasn’t fighting him. In fact, she was calmly staring the alien down as he tried to kill her. What...? He glanced at Jackson in confusion.
"Her hands," the doctor said softly. "Watch her hands."
It was then that he noticed that while Sheila kept the Thoelian’s eyes locked with hers, she was slowly lifting something out of her blouse. He couldn’t tell what it was, but when she pressed it against the alien’s hand, it had an immediate effect. The Thoelian screamed in pain and backed away, loosing his hold on her to protect himself. In a move so swift that Straker nearly missed it, Sheila moved in and gave the alien a chop to his neck that felled him where he stood. Straker didn’t wait for any more before running from the lab.
***
When he entered the hospital room, she was on her knees on the floor, gasping for breath.
"Sheila! Sheila!" he cried, grabbing her and brushing her hair from her eyes. "Are you all right?" he kept asking over and over.
She nodded, but couldn’t speak for a moment or two. He repeated his question again, and she realized that he didn’t believe her. Finally she said hoarsely, "Yes, Ed. I’m okay. I’m okay."
"You’re sure?" he asked, making her meet his eyes.
She gave him a tremulous smile. "Yeah. I’m fine."
He suddenly shook her fiercely by the arms. "Then what the hell do you think you were doing?"
She met that icy rage with a soft smile, laying a shaky hand against his face. "I love you, too."
He crushed her to him, muttering against her hair, "Don’t ever do anything like that again! Do you hear me? Ever!"
"I promise," she soothed, running her fingers through the hair at his nape. "I promise."
Her touch calmed him as nothing else could, and it wasn’t long before he released her to check her throat. "Jackson!" he ordered as he urged her into a nearby chair. "Examine her. Now!"
The doctor had been evaluating the damage done to the Thoelian, but came over and examined Sheila’s throat carefully.
"Well?" demanded the commander impatiently.
Dr. Jackson met Sheila’s eyes, and seeing the rueful humor in her gaze, had to choke down a chuckle. "There is some bruising," he told Straker. "And minor swelling. But there doesn’t appear to be any serious damage. Is it painful to swallow, Colonel?"
She tried it and shook her head. "Not really," she said.
He said, "If it becomes painful in the next twenty-four hours or you experience difficulty breathing for any reason, return here immediately."
"All right."
The doctor gave her a stern glance. "You are much better off than your adversary. You snapped his neck."
"Did I?" she asked calmly.
"What did you use to hurt his hand?" Jackson inquired.
She held up the blue stone that hung around her neck. "Eddie’s rock."
Her husband said, "I don’t understand. He reacted as if you had burned him severely, but I know for a fact that stone isn’t hot to the touch."
"You’re right," she answered. "It isn’t. But this stone is formed from volcanic activity on Tuatara. The Tuatarans call it kadira, and it comes in every shade of blue imaginable. But for some reason, the Thoelians have no tolerance for it. It causes a strange chemical reaction with their skin, almost like acid does with ours. Some of our group used kadira for the blades of their knives. I guess I don’t have to tell you why."
Jackson’s lips thinned slightly. "You lied to me, Colonel."
She understood what he was referring to, but grinned unrepentantly. "Not at all, Doctor. I was unarmed. It’s just a rock. See for yourself."
She lifted it for his inspection, but he disdained from examining it. "You were determined he would die when you insisted on seeing him."
"That was hardly necessary. He was dying anyway. In fact, I would have preferred him to survive our encounter." Her face darkened. "He deserved a nice slow death. It was a kindness to make it so quick."
"Sheila." Her husband gave her a forbidding look, and she stopped glaring at the dead alien across the room to meet his eyes.
"He killed Mireya, Ed. Tortured her." She swallowed the sob that threatened and added, "I don’t know how Timon will carry on."
Straker sighed and rested a hand on her shoulder. "I’m sorry, Sheila. But he’ll find a way to go on, even if for no other reason than to thwart his enemies. Sometimes it’s all you have."
She knew he spoke from experience and laid her hand over his on her shoulder. "I know," she whispered.
There was silence for several moments, then the commander asked her, "What did he tell you about the plot, Sheila? Were you able to trick him into saying anything?"
"Not very much. But I did learn that Ming had refused the plan when it was shown to him. However, Kodos instituted it anyway behind his back."
Straker frowned. "Ming? How long ago did this happen?"
She shrugged worriedly. "I don’t know. At least thirteen years or more. Kurn made it sound as though it was meant to be a progressive destruction. Not a bomb or something sudden, but something insidious that would happen over a long period of time. He said that Earth would be theirs soon. Not immediately. But soon."
His frown deepened. "How soon?"
She shook her head.
Dr. Jackson asked, "Were you able to figure out how the destruction would be carried out, Colonel?"
"I think..." Sheila thought back to Kurn’s words. "He said that our dead bodies would be used by them for many years to sustain themselves. So, apparently whatever they’ve done, it isn’t biological warfare, or our bodies would be full of whatever disease they used to kill us off."
Straker said, "They’ve tried chemical warfare before. Using our own manmade toxins to poison our air."
Sheila nodded. She had read the report on that incident. "But I believe that idea was very short-sighted. It would have been another hundred years before they could have safely relocated here."
The doctor considered. "Yes. There are not so many ways to wipe out an entire planet and still leave it habitable."
"I agree," she said. "I wish I could tell you more."
"Could they be trying to use a natural disaster to do it?" Straker asked. "We know they’ve tried that before. An earthquake. Or a hurricane, perhaps?"
Jackson shook his head. "I don’t think so. Neither an earthquake nor a hurricane could cause destruction on a global scale. It would take a cataclysm of immense proportions to destroy all life on Earth."
"Cataclysm," Sheila murmured, her eyes widening. "Ed!" She jumped up from the chair and headed for the door. "There’s something I have to check out first. But I may know what they’ve been doing."
"What is it, Sheila?" he asked.
She shook her head at him. "Not until I’m sure. The theory’s kind of wild."
Straker sighed. "Sheila, you can’t go."
She turned in the doorway. "Why not?"
"Look at yourself."
Sheila glanced down at herself, then from him to Jackson inquiringly. The doctor merely pointed to the wall mirror, and she went over to it. "Oh." Dark bruises stood out against her pale skin, making two clear handprints around her neck. She grimaced at her reflection and met her husband’s eyes in the mirror. "It’s not as bad as it looks, Ed."
"If it was, you’d be dead," he replied grimly. He was only slightly appeased when she came over to kiss his hard mouth.
"I’ll wear a turtleneck, okay?" She headed back out the door, but stopped and told him, "Oh! By the way, we’re having company for dinner."
***
"You’ve had an interesting day, Gibbon."
Fred looked over at Straker as he took a chair in the study. "Yes, sir." His fingers lightly touched his black eye. "You could say that."
Sheila grinned at him from the couch next to her husband. "It’s a good thing the TV rock music special is done, isn’t it? You’d look wonderful sporting that thing on camera, Fred."
Straker gave her a look as if to say she had no room to talk, and she subsided into giggles. There was a rueful smile on his lips when he turned back to the drummer. "What was in your paper that got your professor so riled?"
Fred hesitated, but Sheila said, "Go on, Fred. Like me, Ed has a strong background in physics. He should be able to follow you."
Fred brushed his hair out of his eyes and settled back in the comfortable chair. "Well, sir. I’m a geologist, and my field of focus has been the earth’s crust. I’ve been studying for some time the movements of the lithosphere, what laymen call the outer crust of the planet."
"Yes, I am aware of the term."
The drummer swallowed and darted a look at Sheila, who smiled and nodded for him to continue. "Well. Different things affect the movement of the lithosphere: gravity, polar caps, angle of planetary tilt. Things like that. It can get pretty complicated."
Straker sighed. The problem with scientists, he had always found, was that they had twenty ways of going around the block rather than the direct approach. In an effort to speed things up, he said, "Are you suggesting something along the lines of Hapgood’s experiments with earth-crust displacement?"
Fred blinked at him in shock, then directed an inquiring look at Sheila. She smiled and shrugged. "I’ve learned over time that there isn’t much that goes on in the scientific community that Ed doesn’t hear about sooner or later."
"Oh. Well, yes, Mr. Straker. In fact, this has direct bearing on his displacement theory. You see, I’ve found evidence that the earth is gearing up for just such an event. We’re talking global destruction on a grand scale. Massive climate shifts, displacement of whole continents, volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, tidal waves like we’ve never seen. Everything, sir. That was the focal point of my paper."
Straker frowned. "But the onset of the type of cataclysm you’re talking about would be obvious over a long period of time, Gibbon. Years. Even decades. Surely Earth isn’t anywhere close to one in the next thousand years or so?"
"Ordinarily, sir, I would have to agree with you. But certain factors point to the probability of a global cataclysm sometime in the next seven to ten years."
The commander met Sheila’s eyes for a moment, then he asked quietly, "What factors?"
Fred said, "The weather, for one thing, sir. I mean, meteorologists keep spouting weather cycles and that kind of crap, which may make it easier for them to sleep nights, but doesn’t have any bearing on what’s actually happening. Haven’t you noticed the increase of earthquakes, hurricanes, and volcano eruptions in the past twenty years? Not to mention the freaky weather."
Straker’s mouth was grim. "Yes, I have noticed it." In fact, he had one of the science teams continually working on finding the causes of it. "Why aren’t those who monitor the weather daily worried, do you think?"
Fred sighed. "It’s rather like not being able to see the forest for the trees, sir. And they can look back a century or so and find other flareups in the weather patterns and say it’s just a cycle we’re going through."
"What makes you think it isn’t?"
"That’s where it gets a bit technical. There’s been an increase in crust movement over the past two decades. Not random increases, but a steady rise in movement globally."
Straker drew in a breath. That would explain a lot, including Moonbase’s anomalous readings over the past few years. "You’re certain of this?"
The drummer shrugged. "The figures speak for themselves, sir. But the thing is, no one wants to look at them."
"Why not?"
Fred ran a hand through his hair. "Well, sir. Because it was deliberate."
Straker stared at him for a moment in silence, then asked, "In what way, deliberate?"
"There were several major earthquakes in ‘70. Do you remember them, sir? Turkey, Brazil, Australia, Canada, upper Siberia, South Africa."
Straker’s grim look deepened. Too well he remembered Turkey, and the alien bomb that would have gone off in England but for one young woman’s courage. "Yes, I remember."
Fred nodded. "I’d have to show you on a map, sir, but those are some key points throughout the world where undue stress below the surface could bring about a massive displacement of the entire earth’s crust, just as Hapgood suggested in his theories. The results of those earthquakes are what we’ve been experiencing for the past twenty years, sir. Increased volcanic activity, major earthquakes all over the globe, unusual weather shifts, flooding. You name it."
The commander gave him a level look out of those blue eyes. "You said it was deliberate. Who do you think is responsible?"
Fred shook his head. "That’s just it, sir. I don’t know. It’s the weakest point of my paper, because there’s no way to know who did this. That’s what Godfrey, my professor, was making a big joke about to his class. He said I was suggesting that it was little green men from Mars. He was just being an ass, but he’s right on one point. Whoever thought it up was a technological genius. It’s probably more like one of those megalomaniac people you see in a James Bond movie, or some military type out to prove a point or something. The thing is, it’s not so important to know who did it as it is to accept that it’s happening at all."
"I don’t agree, Gibbon. I believe that it’s just as important to know who did it, because then we’ll know why it was done. But here’s a question that perhaps you have given some thought to: how do we stop it?"
Fred stared at him. "Um... I hadn’t really explored that avenue, sir. The focus of my dissertation was to bring it to the attention of the scientific world."
"I realize that. But accepting that global cataclysm is going to happen in... what did you say? The next seven to ten years. How can we prevent it?"
"I..." Fred gulped. He’d always been nervous around Sheila’s husband, because that icy blue gaze had often seemed to look right through him. But right now, it was as though Straker was skewering him to the spot with his eyes alone. He looked frantically at Sheila for help.
She smiled, understanding his distress. Ed could be very intimidating at times. She leaned forward and said, "Is there some way to anchor the lithosphere, Fred, so that the movements can be kept to a minimum?"
He sighed in relief. "I’m not sure. It would certainly be worth a try. I could probably come up with the places where the anchors would have the most effect, but I have no idea what you’d use as your anchor in the first place."
Straker said softly, "What if I told you that your professor was correct, Gibbon?"
Fred reluctantly met his eyes. "What do you mean?"
Straker met his wife’s gaze for a moment, and silent communication passed between them. Fred could see it, but couldn’t tell what they were discussing. Then Straker speared him again with that arctic look. "I’d like you to come with me."
As he got up from the couch, Fred stood as well, looking somewhat bewildered. "Where, sir?"
Straker’s smile did nothing to lessen the man’s tension. It was quite grim. "To tell your theory to a group of scientists who I can guarantee will be more... shall we say... open-minded."
***
Fred’s mouth was still hanging open when the commander ushered him into the large conference room at SHADO HQ. Wow! Secret organisations, aliens, and everything! All hidden under a film studio. It boggled the mind! It suddenly occurred to him that Joan worked for the studio. Did she know...? As he glanced around the conference room, he saw her staring at him in shock from a seat across the long table. He grinned. Of course, she knew!
Straker ushered him to a seat at the table and introduced the rest of the group. One of them was a general, although the rest seemed to be mostly scientists from one field of research or another that might have bearing on this crisis. But Joan was merely introduced as "the tracker who has been monitoring the discrepancies from Moonbase." Moonbase? Hot damn! Well, that definitely explained where she got that rock of hers!
The commander finished the introductions with Fred, saying, "And this is Fred Gibbon, the geologist who figured out what the aliens are up to. Many of you in this room have studied Hapgood’s theories about earth-crust displacement and the potential for global calamity if the entire crust is jolted into movement for some reason. I believe that Earth has been witness to such calamities in the past; Antarctica is a prime example of an island that once was fertile and green and is now buried under two miles of ice. Certain areas of Siberia also show evidence of having been much more temperate than they are at present. We know that displacement can occur, and many scientists have postulated how it can happen. And in the natural course of time, Earth would set itself up for such an event somewhere in the next few thousand years.
"But someone has altered that timetable. And Earth is anticipating just such a global catastrophe in the next decade. I’d like to get a clearer picture of just how much time we have, but hopefully that won’t be necessary. Because we’ve got to stop it. Now. Somehow. Some way. We’ve got to undo the damage that’s been done by the Thoelians before they succeed in causing a massive global shift in our lithosphere. I don’t think I need stress the seriousness of this crisis to you. A global cataclysm of this magnitude means not only the end of SHADO, but of all life on Earth as we know it. And once the seas die down and the weather calms, the Thoelians would be able to take over with no opposition at all. A grim thought to consider, isn’t it?
"Now I’ve asked General Shaw to join us, since he may be able to put us in contact with certain friends of his who have knowledge we might be able to use to avert this disaster. Col. Sarek is here for the same reason. His work history includes some terraforming experience and may be quite useful to us. And what he doesn’t know, he may be able to find out from his people. I want every idea seriously considered in your efforts to stop this calamity. No matter how absurd. No matter how odd it may sound. Earth is depending on you, all of you, to keep us safe throughout this crisis. Not that I want you to feel pressured or anything..."
Here the group chuckled a little, but soon became serious once more. Everyone was aware that the situation was too grim for much levity.
Straker continued. "I want you to know up front that I am confident that we’ll succeed in finding an answer to this crisis. Earth is our home, and we won’t give her up without a fight. Col. Sarek has a rough lab schedule worked out for you. All other duties are suspended for the timebeing, so that you may work solely on this project. We will get you a copy of Gibbon’s thesis and his notes from his research as soon as possible. Any questions?"
There didn’t seem to be any, and the group broke up shortly thereafter. The commander stopped Joan as she was leaving and said softly, "A word with you, Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir."
He led her away from where a few of the others were speaking among themselves. "I’m sorry about Moonbase, Lieutenant. But you’re the one who’s familiar with the displacement that’s already occurred, and I felt that you would be more helpful here than back on Moonbase."
"That’s all right, sir," she answered. Of course, she didn’t want to remain Earthside for an immeasurable amount of time, but she was actually quite keen on this project. It was going to be thrilling trying to outwit those damn aliens, and she didn’t want to miss any of it! She refused to speculate on her excitement over having Fred on the team. It wasn’t important, after all. "Who will you put in charge of Moonbase then?"
Straker sighed. "Having both you and Col. Sarek Earthside will leave both Moonbases a little understaffed. But Col. Carlin has volunteered to take over Moonbase 2 for a few months, although I want him back here once his wife is close to her due date. We’ll figure out that problem when we get there. And Virginia and Paul have agreed to rotate time at Moonbase for a while. We should be able to handle it."
"Right."
"Thank you for understanding, Joan," he said.
She looked at him and smiled. It wasn’t often that anyone got to see how much he cared for the members of SHADO. Individually, and not just as an organisation. And because of that, it was always very special when you did see it. "I am honored to be able to be a part of the team, sir. We’ll find your solution for you."
He grinned at her enthusiasm. "I know you will, Lieutenant."
EPILOGUE
He entered the bedroom quietly and noticed his wife sitting at the vanity, brushing her long hair. She met his eyes in the mirror and said, "Hello."
Straker advanced into the room enough to take off his coat and lay it over a chair. "I’m sorry I’m so late."
"Well, it’s been a long day all around, I think. How did it go?"
He came over and took the brush from her, taking over the task of brushing her hair. "Pretty well. The team seemed to relate well together. I’m hopeful of what they will accomplish."
Her eyes sought his in the mirror again. "Do we have a chance of stopping it, Ed?"
"Yes, I think so. Keep in mind, Sheila, that the Solarians are our allies. And General Shaw is looking into options from his people. We’re not alone in this." He paused, then added, "And I also think that Gibbon is a godsend. His conclusions about what was happening to the earth’s crust were nothing short of brilliant. Frankly, I’m glad to have him on the team."
Sheila grinned, knowing how much it cost him to say that. Generally an excellent judge of character, he hated to find out he was wrong in an assessment. "I’m glad too, Ed."
He was silent for awhile, brushing her luxurious hair. Finally he glanced back at her in the mirror. "Fred Gibbon wasn’t the only one you were right about, Sheila."
"Oh?"
Straker sighed. "You were right about John, as well. I’m sorry for what I said to you last night."
"It’s okay, Ed."
The brush faltered for a moment, then continued stroking. "Is it?"
"Yeah. Granted, I would have really been upset if I thought you meant it."
He felt compelled to admit, "I did mean it when I said it."
"Yes, but that was just your fear talking."
He looked confused.
She explained, "Look, Ed. I was upset about it at the time. But once I thought about it, I realized that you were just scared of losing him. And looking at the situation that way, it must have seemed to you as though I had betrayed you. Once I understood that, I wasn’t upset any more."
He set the brush down and stroked her hair with his fingers. "You amaze me."
She grinned, her dark eyes twinkling at him in the mirror. "Good."
His lips curved into a wry smile. "I don’t deserve such an understanding wife, you know."
Her head cocked slightly as she considered that statement. "You just say that because you’ve never had one before."
Straker chuckled in spite of himself. "You may be right." He went on his knees beside her vanity stool, taking her hands in his and looking into her beautiful eyes. "Why are you so understanding, Sheila?"
She turned her hands in his and grasped them tightly. "Because you make it easy for me to be. You really have very few motives for doing what you do, Ed. And the main one is always love."
He blinked in surprise. "Love?"
She nodded. "Yes. It’s why you give your life every day to ensure the safety of everyone on Earth. It’s why you do everything, from forgiving Mary to forgiving me. You’re a wonderful man, Ed Straker."
He shook his head, but leaned forward to kiss her hand. "I’m glad that you think so. I hope I can live up to such an image."
She smiled softly. "You don’t have to. You already are that man."
"You’re the wonderful one."
"Am I?"
He nodded, his throat closing as he looked at her. "Why do you love me so much?" he asked hoarsely.
She lifted a hand to his hair and brushed it gently back from his forehead. "Because you love me."
She continually surprised him. "Sheila, everybody loves you! I’m not special in that."
But she was shaking her head. "No, Ed. Your love is different from everyone else’s, because you love me just as I am. No one else ever has, you know."
"What’s not to love?" he asked in bewilderment.
She smiled sweetly. "Oh, Ed. I’m not what I seem to be when people look at me. I’m not sweet. I’m ornery. And stubborn. And headstrong. But you love me in spite of all those things."
"I think you’re very sweet," he said, wisely deciding not to comment on the rest.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. For instance, it was very sweet of you to wear this nightgown tonight. You know how I feel about you in red."
Sheila laughed. "And how is that, Ed?" she asked saucily.
He scooped her into his arms and brought her to the bed. He laid down next to her across the counterpane and toyed with one thin strap. "Allow me to demonstrate," he said huskily and slipped it off her shoulder.
ACT I
Chucho lay on the roof staring at the stars overhead. So intent was the boy on finding that one particular star that it was several moments before he realized that someone had entered the small house below and was talking to Timon. He shifted the pallet he lay on, exposing the small hole he had worked through the roof years ago. The voices grew louder, but were still indistinguishable. After a while, he was able to discern the urgent whisper of Mattimeo from Timon’s fierce replies.
His heart quickened, and his eyes stung. Mattimeo and Timon’s wife, Mireya had been sent on an assignment behind enemy lines at Kodos’ fortress two nights ago. If he had returned alone, it could only mean one thing. The woman who had been mother to him all these years had been captured. Or worse. He strained his ears to hear their words.
"We must warn them," Mattimeo whispered desperately to his friend and commander.
There was a slight pause, then Timon’s voice was heard, sounding raspy. "Then you must go. Quickly, before they tighten their air field security."
Chucho heard the soft thud of hands clasping, then Mattimeo said softly, "If I am able, I shall return."
"May Mireya’s spirit guide you through the star void."
After Mattimeo left, Chucho crept down to the main room. Timon sat at the table, staring at nothing. "Timon?"
There was no response.
"My commander, what news?"
Timon stirred and looked over at him. Chucho gasped. His eyes were dark and wounded, like the eyes of a hartok when it is brought down by a bow. The boy came a few steps closer, not knowing what he could say to ease his pain. After several minutes, Timon said quietly, "Mireya is dead."
Chucho swallowed. "And Mattimeo? Where has he gone?"
Timon sighed. "To Earth."
The boy came up to the table, his heart beating quickly. "He will need help. I will accompany him there."
Timon’s hand shot out and gripped his tunic. "No! You must not! I need you here."
Chucho met those eyes for a long moment, then looked away. "It is a suicide mission."
Timon sat back and covered his eyes in a weary gesture that the boy had never seen before. "It is necessary, Chucho. They found evidence of a major plot against Earth. Mattimeo is right. We must warn them, if we can."
The boy held that gaze and saw the fatigue that went beyond grief. His heart sank. "Will they be able to stop it?"
Timon looked the young warrior in the eye and did something he had sworn never to do. He lied to him. "Yes, Chucho. They will stop it."
***
"When was the last calibration done on the sensors, Ayshea?"
Ayshea turned from her console in the Command Sphere. "Last Tuesday, Lieutenant."
Joan frowned at the readout. "Well, that’s not right. This is off by 0.023 degrees."
"Isn’t that within limitations?"
The lieutenant nodded, but continued to look over the readout. "I don’t like it. This is the third time in two months. Something’s going on."
Ayshea asked, "Should we do a systems check?"
Lt. Harrington sighed. "When was the last level 5 done?"
She checked the log. "11 days ago, Lieutenant."
"Damn."
Ayshea looked inquiring.
Joan gave her a rueful glance. "They’re going to love me for this. Schedule another one, Ayshea."
"Yes, sir."
***
Kurn had lost the spy’s trail hours before, but picked it up again near the air field when he found the body hidden under the brush. He recognized the pilot immediately and got on his comm to air field security. "This is Kurn. Any takeoffs in the last..." He looked over the body carefully. "...say, three hours?"
"Yes, Seeg Kurn. Jackor left with instructions from Kodos himself."
"Fool! Jackor is lying in his own blood at my feet. Get me a ship ready. Now!"
***
"We’re going to miss you."
Nina Rogers glanced over at her friend. The lunar flight had been uneventful, and they were getting ready to dock with the lunar carrier. Col. Foster was at the lunar module controls along with Lt. Travers. She and Joan were seated behind them in the passenger section. Most of the flight had been spent going over final details of the crew shift on Moonbase, but silence had fallen between the two women once they had entered Earth’s atmosphere. Nina had hoped to maintain her calm demeanor until she was home, but apparently Joan wanted to talk about the changes. Nina sighed and said, "The commander assures me that he has tons of work waiting for me at HQ. It’s not as though I’m leaving the organisation or anything."
Joan said, "I know. But we’ve gotten pretty close working together in our little group. Moonbase won’t be the same without you there, Nina."
Nina blinked back the tears that threatened. "I’ve got other obligations to take care of now, Joan. These things happen."
Lt. Harrington frowned. "Yeah. Like when Gay got pregnant with little Sebastian. But she acts now like she doesn’t miss us at all! You won’t forget us too, will you?"
"No." Nina swallowed. "I’ll never forget any of you or my time on Moonbase. It’s been the highlight of my life."
"Does Mark know yet?"
Her friend shook her head. "Not yet. I’ll tell him the good news when he comes home for dinner."
Joan grinned. "That should make his day! He’s been wanting this for a while, hasn’t he?"
"Yes. And me too, now that it’s here. It’ll just take some time getting used to being Earthside after all these years." She gave Joan a speculative look. "You’ll do fine in charge of things, Joan. You’re the senior officer now, and I can’t imagine anyone who’d handle Moonbase better than you."
The lieutenant said, "Thanks, Nina. But I never really thought this day would come, you know? And I was quite happy having first Gay, then you in command. It’s so weird to think of me being in charge." She shook her head ruefully. "I hate change."
Nina chuckled. "Just think. Some day, you’ll be coming down to Earth to stay and starting your own family."
Joan fiercely shook her head. "Not me! I’m not getting married."
"Ever?"
Joan shrugged dismissively. "I don’t see any reason for it myself. No man is worth giving up everything you’ve worked for."
Nina’s smile was wry. "Man, does that sound familiar."
Her friend laughed. "That’s because I learned it from you, Nina."
"Well, you’ve seen how I’ve changed my mind over time, haven’t you?"
"Yeah." Joan brooded for a moment. "But it won’t happen to me. You’ll see."
***
Sheila handed the children over to the governess, Elodie when they entered the house that evening, but the housekeeper insisted on carrying the baby upstairs herself. "I’ll just take Master Alexander for you, ma’am," Madeline said briskly.
"Thank you," Sheila said, giving her the baby as her husband walked into his study and closed the door. She sighed and turned back to Elodie. "I’ll be up to kiss them all good night in a while."
"Yes, ma’am."
Sheila waved to three-year-old Kathy and two-year-old Andrew as they looked back over the bannister on their way upstairs with Elodie, then squared her shoulders and followed her husband into the study. He looked up frostily when she came into the room, then returned to the paperwork set out in front of him without a word. Sheila grimaced. Well, what had she expected? He wasn’t the King Clam for nothing. She would just have to pry it out of him. "Out with it," she said.
He met her eyes coldly for a moment before returning to his work, but said nothing. However, his lips tightened slightly.
Sheila considered it a good sign. Evidently he did have something to say, after all, in spite of his chilly silence all the way home tonight. He was just holding it in. Well, she’d be damned if she’d let him. "I mean it, Ed. Tell me what you’re so angry about. I like to know what I’m being accused of. Call it a quirk of mine."
His voice was like ice when he answered. "You know damn well what I’m upset about, Sheila. You’ve gone too far this time!"
She advanced toward the desk. "I’m no mindreader. The fact is, I don’t know what I’ve done to make you angry. I thought the visit went wonderfully myself. That is, until you all of a sudden bundled us into the car to come home."
He put down the paper he held and leaned forward over the desk, his mouth a grim line. "Can you honestly tell me that you did nothing wrong?"
She spread her hands. "When? Before dinner? After dinner? When Jasper was telling the children stories? When?"
Straker’s lips thinned even more as he tried to hold his temper in check. "When you told John about Edith’s hobby, Sheila. Or did you think I wouldn’t hear you?"
"What?"
His icy gaze flicked over her face and saw her bewilderment, but did not soften. "I heard you. You told him as if it were nothing of importance at all that she was into time travel and its possibilities."
She looked at him in silence for a moment, trying to understand why that would anger him. "Yeah. It’s hardly a secret, Ed."
"You had no business telling him anything about it! I haven’t mentioned it. And neither has Emily. Surely if she wanted him to know her aunt’s hobby, she would have told him herself."
"Maybe it just never came up before." Sheila ran a hand through her hair. "I don’t get it, Ed. Why shouldn’t I have told him about it? I thought he’d be interested."
"Interested? Of course, he’s interested! Are you trying to get rid of him?"
"What? No! Ed, John enjoys talking about time travel. You must admit he can offer a unique perspective to the conversation. He and I have discussed it many times. I thought he’d be thrilled to talk to someone who’s so knowledgeable on the subject."
"You mean, who can show him how to return to his own world," he said coldly.
"For God’s sake, Ed! His world is here. Surely that was obvious tonight when Emily told us all that she’s expecting? Why would he want to go back?"
"Because it’s where he belongs." His eyes were blue shards of ice when he said, "You should not have interfered, Sheila. It wasn’t your place to show him that he might be able to return there. He’s not your son!"
She gasped in shock, staring at his unyielding countenance for a long moment, then turned and left the study without another word.
ACT II
"As you can see, the readings are not that far off the normal, but they certainly get close to the limit. And they shouldn't be off at all!"
Straker sat forward, looking the report over carefully. "You're right, Lieutenant. A few of these results were recorded just after a systemwide check."
"Yes, sir," answered Joan. "Including this last one. In fact, we have the readings both before and after the check. And they're virtually the same."
He rubbed a hand wearily over his eyes. "Hmmm. So it makes no difference whether the system’s just been recalibrated. That’s odd. You've kept track of these anomalous readings for how long, Lieutenant?"
"Since the second time I noticed them, sir. Just over a year ago. The first time was nearly two years ago, and I assumed the sensors needed recalibrated and ordered it done. But I didn't recheck the data afterward. I didn't realize that it might be important."
The commander sat back in his chair and folded his hands. Every bone in his body ached with fatigue, but it was finally morning, and he’d be damned if he’d go and try to get some sleep now. "That's all right, Lieutenant. It may even now be something unimportant."
"Do you think so, sir?"
He sighed. "No. Not really. Not when it keeps happening. Tell me, Joan. Do you have any idea what it could mean?"
She shook her head. "I've tried and tried to think of what could cause such a small deviation in the readings, but nothing makes any sense. Those sensors are trained on SHADO HQ at all times. And the system constantly adjusts with Earth’s orbit to keep them right on target." She sighed. "I almost didn't want to bring it to your attention, because I couldn't find the cause. But in the end, I decided you needed to know anyway."
"It was brave of you, Lieutenant, to bring me a problem without having a solution ready. And I appreciate it. I trust your instincts. I'll turn this report over to our science team and see what they come up with. Perhaps it will make some sense to them. In the meantime, keep monitoring the data."
"Yes, sir."
"You're Earthside for a few days before you assume command of Moonbase, aren't you?" he asked, then added as she nodded, "Well, enjoy your time off, Lieutenant. And try not to worry about your new position too much. You'll do a fine job. If I weren't sure of it, I wouldn't have promoted you."
Joan blushed. "Thank you, sir."
***
"Thanks for coming to get me, Sheila."
She glanced over at the man seated beside her in the car and sighed. He really did look disreputable. Especially sporting a black eye and torn shirt as he was now. No wonder Ed always looked askance at him. Wait until he found out about this latest escapade. "No problem, Fred," she said. "Mind telling me how bad the other guy looks?"
He grinned his infamous crooked grin. In spite of hair that fell well past his collar and always seemed in need of combing, he usually managed to get interested looks from females in his vicinity. Sheila maintained that it was because of that rakish grin. Fred wasn’t about to argue with her. "I think I broke his nose."
"Aren’t you just a bit old for brawling, Fred?"
His grin disappeared to be replaced with a scowl. "Damn it, Sheila! He deserved worse than that for what he did. He tore up my dissertation in front of a classful of students!"
"What?" She gave him a look of concern as she drove through the rain. "Fred, who did? Your professor?"
He nodded. "Not only that, but he made fun of some of the points of it to his class, trying to make me out to be some kind of idiot. I wasn’t about to stand for that."
"No, of course not." She frowned. "But, Fred? Doesn’t he have to approve your dissertation before you can graduate with your doctorate?"
He grimaced and gave her a sheepish look. "Actually, it doesn’t matter now. I’ve been suspended because of this little incident. I won’t be graduating at all."
"Oh, Fred."
"It’s okay, Sheila. I was tired of having him tell me my theories were stupid. Hell, the entire scientific community is bogged down by their own inability to see what’s staring them in the face! Well, I don’t need a school to endorse what I know to be truth. They can hide all they want in their platitudes about cycles and weather patterns. One day they’ll wake up, and it’ll be too late. Then they’ll know I was right! Call me an alarmist, will they?"
Sheila let him blow off steam in that manner for several minutes, then ventured a question. "What was your doctoral thesis on, Fred?"
He looked over at her and gave a small smile. Sheila wasn’t just the best rock-and-roller he’d ever worked with; she was also a good friend. He had always counted on her to listen when he needed an attentive ear, and since she was as knowledgeable as any scientist and a lot more open-minded, their discussions had often gone on for hours. Since her marriage, there hadn’t been many opportunities to just sit and discuss the newest research in their respective fields, but he knew that didn’t mean she wasn’t interested. Sheila had always reminded him of his mother’s housecat--- forever curious. Now he sighed. His topic was going to sound really wild without any of the facts presented first. "My title was: How Soon Calamity? A Deeper Look at the Earth’s Crust and Its Movements."
She blinked, but made no comment for several minutes as she manuevered through traffic. Finally she said, "Does it look bad, Fred?"
He felt weary all of a sudden. He’d wasted his morning trying to reason with a scholarly idiot, then trying to figure out what to do next while at the police station. Trust Sheila to go directly to the heart of the issue without any dithering. "Yeah," he answered. "It’s not a pretty picture."
Sheila said nothing more about it as she drove into the parking area for his block of flats. Rain was still pouring down in sheets, and it was difficult to make out the individual buildings among the landscaping. "Is this your new place?"
"Yeah," he said. "I’m almost completely unpacked now. You’ll have to come up and see it soon."
"Definitely." Sheila tried to see the flats better through the rain. "I think I know someone who lives out here, Fred."
"Oh, yeah? Cool."
When he went to get out of the car, she said quietly, "I’d like to read your dissertation sometime."
He gave her a grin and a nod as he stood in the rain. "Sure. Anytime."
***
"What is it, Lieutenant?" Alec asked as he entered the Command Sphere on Moonbase. His hair was rumpled from sleep, but he had taken a moment to dress before answering the summons.
Ayshea made way for him at the center console. "A sighting, sir. Two UFOs. Speed, SOL 16."
"16?" he asked incredulously.
"SID confirmed it. Shall we launch the interceptors, sir?"
"Not yet. Get me SHADO Control, will you?"
"Yes, sir." She sat at the nearest console and called up HQ on Earth. "SHADO Control for you, sir."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Col. Freeman said. He turned to the monitor as Straker’s image appeared on the screen. "Hello, Ed. Are you tracking them?"
"Yes, Alec. They’ve just come up on our planetary radar. We’re clocking them at SOL 16. They’re in pretty tight formation for those speeds."
"That what we’ve got, too. We’ll never be able to intercept at this rate. What do you advise?"
"Do you have the trajectory termination yet?"
Alec glanced over at Ayshea, who nodded and said, "Southern France, sir."
"It looks like Southern France, Ed," Freeman told his friend. "Pretty close to home."
"Yes. But it also means that we can get the ground crews out quickly to track them when they land."
Alec frowned. "But, Ed. At those speeds, there won’t be anything left of them to track."
Straker nodded. "True. But hopefully they’ll decelerate once in the atmosphere. Cross your fingers for us, Alec."
Freeman grinned. "Will do. Moonbase out."
***
The UFOs were coming in fast and thick. Inside the Command Sphere, Joan could hear them as they whizzed past, bombarding the lunar surface nearby with their lasers. Her, Nina, and Gay had their spacesuits on and helmets with the faceplates up. "We’ve got to get out of here!" she told them urgently. "Before they hit the sphere!"
The two women ignored her and continued at their posts. Brilliant light flooded the sphere as a lunar mobile exploded a short distance away. Joan gasped, but the others seemed oblivious. She ran to Nina and pulled on her arm, trying to get her out of her seat at the console. "Come on! We’ve got to go! Now!"
Nina turned a calm face to her and said, "Oh, Joan. Stop worrying. It’s not so bad being Earthside. You’ll get used to it. Just look at us."
"No! You don’t understand!" Joan moaned. "They’re attacking! Can’t you hear them?"
Gay turned from her position at the center console. "Just stop it, Joan. You’re letting yourself get overwrought. Marriage isn’t what you think. It can be everything you’ve ever wanted. You’ll see."
Joan backed away from them, shaking her head frantically. "No! You’re wrong! And you’re going to die if you don’t come this instant!" Receiving no response from her friends, she gave a sob and ran for the door. Outside in the corridor, she could still hear the sounds of destruction going on all around. She jumped when an enormous explosion rocked the ground beneath her feet.
"The Sleep Sphere!" she moaned, closing her eyes against the thought of the men and women who had been asleep there. She grimly lowered her faceplate and locked it into position as she headed for the outer doors. As they opened and she glimpsed the lunar surface, an explosion behind her knocked her off her feet. She went flying through the doorway, landing softly in the dust many meters away. She scrambled to her feet and looked back. Moonbase was nothing but rubble. She heard sounds of sobbing above the continuous explosions that rocked the surface and realized with a start that they were coming from her. Collapsing to her knees in the lunar dust, she stared at the remains of her home for the past fifteen years. God, she thought. Straker was going to be pissed about this.
She looked up just in time to see a large UFO spinning above her. "Damn you to hell!" she screamed in the confines of her helmet as the alien ship shot its laser downward at her.
Joan sat straight up in bed, gasping for breath. Her chest hurt, and she clutched it as she ordered her lungs to breathe, just breathe. After a few minutes, she was able to relax and wipe the tears from her face. God! What a nightmare that had been! Suddenly, she frowned. She had thought on first waking that the loud beat she was hearing was her heart against her ribs. But now that she was calmer, she realized that the sound was something else entirely. Her eyes narrowed as she glanced at the ceiling. Who the hell was playing drums at this time of day?
Galvanized by the thought, she leapt out of bed and ran out of the room. Unlatching the front door of her flat, she had a momentary twinge. She was dressed only in an overlarge t-shirt for sleeping, after all. Perhaps she should take a minute and change. But her blood was still pumping from her nightmare, and she wanted badly to smash someone’s face, preferably an alien’s. But she’d take what she could get. Grinning fiercely, she yanked open the door and headed up the stairs at a run.
She pounded on the door to the upstairs flat until it opened. She was ready with an entire monologue of curses for the idiot who didn’t have the decency to be quiet when people were trying to sleep, but her tongue dried up at the sight of the man standing so shocked in the doorway. He was tall and lean. And wearing nothing but a pair of faded low-riding jeans. Joan’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at his muscled torso. Her eyes went to his face, and she felt her brain dissolve into mush. Green eyes. He had the greenest eyes.
And he was staring at her as if she was berserk. She gulped and tried to reassemble enough brain cells to speak. "Um... I’m from downstairs."
Fred relaxed slightly. He had been alarmed when the pounding began at the door, but on seeing what stood on the other side, he had instantly decided that any emergency was worth this kind of trouble. Now she stood there as if she had forgotten why she came, and he couldn’t help grinning at her. She was just so cute with her wide eyes and sexy little body delineated nicely beneath that flimsy t-shirt she was wearing. He opened the door wider for her to enter his flat, saying, "Well, then. Hello, neighbor."
Joan blinked. Was he coming on to her? Her eyes narrowed as she met that grin. Of all the nerve! Her brain began functioning normally again, and she said in a firmer tone, "I was trying to sleep, but someone was blasting away on the drums up here." She looked accusingly at the stylish drum set in the raised corner of the sparsely furnished room and back to the drumsticks still in his hand and added, "Would that have been you?"
Fred looked sheepish for a moment, running his free hand through his disheveled hair. "Yeah, I guess so. I wasn’t even sure anyone lived in that flat. I’ve been here almost a month, and I’ve never seen you."
"I’m away a lot. On business."
"Oh. Well, I’m Fred." And he stuck out his hand to shake hers.
Joan looked disparagingly at it. "I’m tired," she replied. "And it’s been a long morning already. Do you think you could refrain from making so much noise, so that I can rest?"
Fred said, "Well, I’ve got to get my three hours in sometime today. But I suppose I could hold off until about four before I finish up."
"Five," she snapped and headed back out of the flat.
He watched her lovely body sway beneath the t-shirt as she stormed off and couldn’t resist calling after her, "Four. And say, do you always run around dressed like that?"
Joan whirled around at the top of the stairs, unknowingly giving him an even better view of her charms as the sunlight from the window behind her outlined her shape beneath the cotton t-shirt. She glared at him. But all she managed to say as she headed downstairs was, "Five."
ACT III
"Well, Lieutenant?"
Lt. Ford looked at his commanding officer while listening to the voice on his headset. "The transporter is on its way, sir. With the planetary radar, we’ve been able to fix their termination just south of Lourdes near the Pyrenees."
"Good. That’s a fairly remote spot. Any chance the mobiles will be seen by civilians?"
Keith frowned in thought, recalling what he knew of the area. "I don’t think so, sir. As you say, it’s pretty remote."
Straker nodded. "Right. What’s Sky 4's ETA?"
The lieutenant checked. "Five minutes, sir."
The commander watched the blips race across the radar screen for a moment, then said grimly, "That’s cutting it close."
Keith deemed it unwise to respond. Straker knew as well as he did that the odds of them intercepting those UFOs before they crashed was very small. They were just going too fast. Suddenly, he leaned forward over his controls and checked the readings. "Sir!" he said. "They’re slowing down."
Straker came closer. "What’s the speed?"
"SOL 8. SOL 7. SOL 4.5, and decreasing."
The commander walked over to where the map had been laid out for him on one of the consoles. After spending a few moments calculating, he looked up and told Ford, "Get me Sky 4."
"Yes, sir."
Straker came over to the lieutenant’s station and got on the microphone. "Capt. Powell?"
"Yes, sir," answered Sky 4's pilot, a man with many years fighting against aliens behind him.
"It’ll be close, Captain," Straker told him. "Even at reduced speeds, they’re still at crash velocity."
"I understand, sir," replied the captain, who cherished hopes of getting at least one shot off against the bastards.
"If it comes down to a choice, Powell, I want you to aim for the second UFO rather than the first."
The captain frowned, but did not question the order. Straker might be a bit of an ass, but the man had the uncanny ability of outwitting their adversary. "Right. No problem, sir."
Soon he radioed back. "Coming into visual range now, sir. Good God! Commander, the second UFO is firing on the first one!"
That hard voice came over the speaker in his helmet. "Get it, Captain!"
"Yes, sir!" Capt. Powell banked and came in behind the second UFO, letting off his missile. Because of the extreme speed of the craft, his missile did not hit dead center and destroy the UFO. However, it damaged it heavily, causing it to spiral toward the mountain range below in a red cloud. The other UFO had been badly hit by the other craft, and the Skyjet pilot followed it down as far as he dared before radioing back to HQ its precise position.
"Thank you, Captain," Straker told him with a grim smile. "Good work."
***
Sheila came bursting into the Medical Centre as soon as she heard. Straker came away from the hospital bed and took her by the arms, not at all pleased at being interrupted. "Sheila, let us handle this."
She shook her head, her eyes beseeching him. "Ed, please! I might be able to help. You’ve got to let me try!"
From behind him, Straker heard Jackson say, "She is right, Commander. He may speak to her."
Straker turned slightly to tell the doctor what he thought of that proposal, but just then the alien caught sight of Sheila beyond the commander’s shoulder.
"Sheila!" he gasped.
As Straker’s eyes narrowed to look closely at the alien, his wife took the opportunity to shake off his restraining hands and approach the bed. Her heart turned over when she recognized the man lying there so pale and spent. "Mattimeo!" she whispered, her eyes filling up with tears.
He swallowed, grasping her arm in a weak grip as he tried to speak. "Timon..."
He was clearly dying, and Sheila laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don’t tax yourself," she told him.
He shook his head feebly. "Must... warn you. Kodos... plot... destroy... destroy..." His eyes glazed over, and his hand fell away as he died.
"Mattimeo!" Sheila collapsed against the hospital bed with a sob. When her husband took her by the shoulders to lift her away from the alien, she jerked away from him and angrily dashed at the tears streaming down her face. Looking one last time at her old friend and fellow soldier, she reached out and gently closed his eyes with one shaking hand. She murmured the ancient burial chant of his people into his unresponsive ear, then let Straker lead her over to a nearby chair so that Jackson could examine him.
She sat docilely enough while the commander and the doctor discussed the situation, but Straker nonetheless kept sending her worried glances. Finally, Dr. Jackson covered the body with a sheet and came around the bed to where she sat. Getting on his knees in order to be eye level with her, he said softly, "Col. Straker?"
Sheila had been staring off into space, but at the sound of her name, her eyes focused on the doctor’s face. She said nothing, but Jackson considered it enough that he had her attention.
"Colonel, what did he say to you?"
She blinked, her brow furrowing for a moment as if the question confused her. Then it cleared. Of course! She and Mattimeo had been speaking Tuataran, not English. She ran a shaky hand over her face, brushing the hair out of her eyes. "He said..." After stopping a moment to clear her throat, she continued. "He told me that Timon had sent him here to warn us about something that Kodos was planning."
"Who’s Kodos?" the doctor asked quietly.
She drew a breath. "Kodos is the Thoelian leader. He took Ming’s place after... after I killed him."
"Did he say what the plan was?" her husband asked briskly, wanting to direct her thoughts away from that memory.
She looked up at him, shaking her head. "No. Just that he meant to destroy."
"Destroy what?" Straker asked.
"I don’t know."
"Could it be this facility?" asked the doctor.
Sheila frowned, thinking over Mattimeo’s words. Then she gave her husband a worried glance. "I think... Ed, I think he was referring to Earth. As a whole."
Straker took her hand as it moved restlessly on the arm of the chair. "Are you certain, Sheila?"
She nodded slowly. "He said destroy. But there are several words that mean the same thing or similar things in Tuataran. The term he used was caoso, which we would translate as chaos. It’s an all-encompassing term, meaning the destruction of everything." She demonstrated with a swirl of her arm.
He was silent a moment, absorbing the implications. Then he said, "It would explain why he took the risk to come here. He had to have known he wouldn’t survive to return home."
"Yes." She squeezed his hand tightly. "He would have known that it was a one-way trip."
"Do you have any idea what kind of destruction he was referring to, Colonel? A bomb, perhaps. Or something else?" Jackson asked.
She shook her head again. "I’m so sorry. He was trying to tell me. There just wasn’t enough time left."
The doctor looked to Straker, who said firmly, "Well, we appreciate the warning. But without more details, there’s very little we can do to prepare in advance. For now, I’d like it kept quiet. There’s no need to panic everyone."
"Very well, Commander," Jackson said with a Slavic bow.
Straker gave him a nod, but waited for his wife’s response. "All right, Ed," she said.
***
Joan pulled into the parking lot of the flats feeling irritable. Damn it, she was tired! But at least the rain had stopped. She'd had no business trying to go grocery shopping on so little sleep. But she'd been singularly unsuccessful in falling back asleep after her run-in with her new neighbor. Her body still felt wired from the encounter, and every time she had closed her eyes, his green eyes had been there laughing at her. Jerk!
She had very little tolerance for grocery lines at the best of times, and she knew well that today was a far cry from that. But she'd managed not to scream at the idiots ahead of her in line and considered it a great victory on her part that she'd shown such restraint. She fully intended to reward herself by fixing her favorite pasta for a late luncheon and finishing it off with a huge bowl of ice cream. She wasn't one to complain usually, but there was definitely something wrong with the way Moonbase's ice cream tasted. Or maybe it was the texture. Whatever it was, it wasn't the dessert it was supposed to be. So she compensated by keeping her freezer well-stocked with her favorite flavors for those few days a month when she was home. She was wondering which flavor she was in the mood for when she tried to pull into her parking space.
And found it already taken. She braked and glared at the two motorcycles that blocked her spot. Fools! Couldn't they see the sign designating this section for tenants only? Luxury flats had their perks, and one of them was your own personal parking space. So who the hell was in hers?
Her eyes narrowed as she noticed that the parking space next to hers also contained two motorcycles. The parking space that was designated for the tenant in Flat 4. Her new upstairs neighbor. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he had company. Plenty of company. Great. Just great. She yanked the wheel around and parked across the way, muttering wonderfully inventive curses under her breath.
Her fury took her swiftly into the building and up the stairs to his door, where once again, she pounded loudly. "Look, you...!" she began almost before the door was fully open, ready to loose her wrath upon him and anyone else in the vicinity.
But he disarmed her completely by grinning and saying, "Hi, neighbor. Come on in." He turned and said, "Hey, guys. This is my neighbor from downstairs. You know, the flat that's always empty? Well, someone lives there after all."
Joan was pulled into the flat by a bear of a man, who shook her hand vigorously and said, "Hi, there! Name's Cody. Howzit going?"
Before she could answer, her hand was grabbed several more times and shaken. It seemed almost as if the room was full of men, but after a dazed moment or two, she realized that there were only four of them. Four. Four men. Four motorcycles. It didn't take a genius. She looked over at Fred to see him leaning against the door with his arms folded, enjoying her confusion. She gave him a glare that should have reduced him to ash, then turned and smiled at the man directly in front of her. What had he said his name was? Jay? "You look familiar," she said, trying to place him.
He nodded. "Yeah. It took me a minute. You're Joan, aren't you? We met at Sheila's."
Her eyes widened. "Oh! That's it! You know Sheila?"
"Know her?" said Cody with a rumbling laugh. "Strike me! We practically live with her!"
"We're her band," said Fred from behind her.
Joan glanced from him to his drum set and said, "Oh."
The red-haired man, who'd introduced himself as Rusty, nudged Jay in the ribs, saying knowingly, "Not a rock-n-roll fan."
Jay shook his head solemnly at this, while Cody made tsking noises.
Joan had to suppress an unwary giggle. "Listen, Jay. Do you guys belong to those motorcycles?"
"Uh-oh," said Rusty. "Guess we're in the lady's parking spot, fellas."
She couldn't help smiling as they all looked contrite. Except Fred, but she wasn't looking at him, so he didn't matter. "It wouldn't be a problem, except that I just got groceries, and where I'm parked now is a ways from the door."
"Well, then," said Jay as he took her arm. "We'll just have to fix that, won't we, guys?" He waltzed her through the door, held open by a grinning Fred, and said as they all trooped after them down the stairs, "Groceries, you say? Well, a pretty thing like you shouldn't be carrying a bunch of groceries. What do you think, guys?" There was a chorus of agreement behind him. "See?" he said with a wink as they left the building.
It took a little time for them to get their motorcycles situated in other spots, but they were as good as their word and carried her sacks inside for her. There weren't enough for all of them to carry, so Jay handed her purse to Fred, saying, "Here. You get the heaviest."
Joan laughed in spite of herself. Her purse was always overfull. She had never understood how other women managed to carry those tiny little palm sized purses. Her purse was more aptly described as a duffel bag. "I really appreciate this, you guys."
"No problem," Jay said. "So how do you know Sheila, Joan?"
"I work with her."
Complete silence greeted this comment, but as she looked at them in bewilderment, Rusty said solemnly, "Then you work for her old man."
Joan nearly choked and was glad to turn away to unlock her door. Old man? "Um... yeah. I work for Straker. Don't you like him?"
No one was quick to answer that one, but Jay asked as they entered her flat, "What's he like to work for?"
"Oh, about what you'd expect," she said with a shrug.
"That bad, huh?" said Cody.
"No. He's just..." She trailed off, unsure just how to describe him.
Fred said, "He can't be all bad, because Sheila likes him."
Cody was shaking his head. "I never could fathom that myself. What's she see in him? Man, every time I look at him, he pins me to the wall."
Joan asked, "Pins you to the wall?"
The big man shrugged. "Yeah. Like a fly."
She tried to imagine him as a fly and had to bite back another giggle. "Right in here, guys," she said as she directed them to the kitchen.
Rusty said suddenly, "Yeah, but he doesn’t give Sheila that kind of look. That must be what she sees in him. It's the way he looks at her."
Everyone looked at him in surprise, and he added, "You know, the wedding?"
"Oh, yeah!" Jay said with a grin, as if that explained everything. "The wedding."
The other men were also nodding in understanding, so Joan didn't ask what they meant. But she assumed it had something to do with Sheila's wedding, which she hadn't been able to attend. Someone had needed to remain on Moonbase.
"You've got a nice place here," Cody told her as they left the kitchen. "It's nicer than Fred's flat."
"That's because she has furniture!" Rusty said disparagingly, which earned him a punch in the arm from Fred.
"Hey, Fred!" Jay said. "Check out the cool rock."
Fred had indeed noticed the large rock sitting on top of the television set, and he went over to give it a closer inspection.
Joan shifted her feet nervously. "It's just a rock," she said dismissively. "Nothing major."
"Yeah, but Fred here's a geologist," explained Jay. "Rocks are his first, last, and only love."
"Shut up, Jay," Fred replied absently as he fingered the rock. His brilliant eyes gave Joan a piercing glance before he turned toward the door.
"That's right," elaborated Rusty. "That's how Fred joined our little band. He saw an ad for a rock group and thought..." He broke off with a chuckle as Fred punched his arm again. "Watch it, Fred, or I’ll give you another black eye to match the one you’ve got!"
Fred only grinned and put up his fists. Cody clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to stagger him forward a few steps.
"So, Joan," Jay said amidst their laughter. "It was nice to see you again. Do you have a boyfriend, by any chance?"
"Cut it out, Jay!" Fred said in disgust. The others just rolled their eyes. Apparently, this was nothing new with Jay.
"No," she told him, holding back a smile. "And I don't want one either. They're more trouble than they're worth."
He winked at her. "You haven't tried me yet."
"I said, cut it out," Fred said and gave him a shove out the door.
***
"Hey, are you okay?"
Sheila looked up from the report in her lap and smiled at her cousin. "Yeah. I’m fine, Gay. Come on in."
Gay Sarek entered Sheila’s office, which to her mind couldn’t really be called an office at all. There was no desk, just a filing cabinet in the corner, several plants, and two comfortable couches opposite each other with a coffee table between. She sat down across from Sheila and looked her over carefully. She did seem to be fine. "I’m sorry about your friend, Sheila."
"Thanks. He was a good man. And fiercely loyal. I don’t know how Timon will do without him."
Gay was silent a moment, then asked softly, "Do you ever miss it?"
Sheila was surprised. "No. It wasn’t exactly an enjoyable time, Gay. I suppose it sounds very exciting with all the danger and intrigue, but the truth is that it was the only way to survive. And not a particularly good way either."
"Do you know why he came here?"
Her cousin shook her head, looking down at the papers in her hand. "We may never know, Gay," she said sadly. Until it’s too late.
"What about the other alien?"
Sheila looked up. "What?" She had only been told about one alien being captured.
Gay gestured. "You know, the one from the ship that was following him. Can’t you ask that one?"
Her cousin’s expression froze for an instant, then she relaxed against the back of the couch and twirled her pen. "I don’t know," she replied softly.
ACT IV
"Col. Straker," Dr. Jackson said urbanely as she entered the Medical Centre’s lab.
Sheila smiled. "Were you expecting me, Doctor?"
Jackson allowed himself a small grimace that might have been mistaken for a smile. "Sooner or later. Yes. It was really only a matter of time before you found out about the other alien."
"I want to see him."
Jackson flicked a glance at her, then said slowly, "That is not possible, Colonel. I think you know why."
Her lips tightened, but she swallowed the remark she wanted to make and said instead, "Look. You know as well as I do the importance of finding out what Kodos is up to. Earth’s future may depend on it. Face it, Jackson. Even if you got him to talk--- which you won’t--- you wouldn’t understand him. Let me try."
"What makes you so sure we won’t make him talk, Sheila?"
She walked over to the glass wall separating the lab from the hospital room and glanced at the alien on the bed. "Because I assumed--- correctly as it turns out--- that it would be one of Kodos’ generals that was sent after Mattimeo. That’s Kurn you’ve got there."
The doctor eyed her closely. "You know him?"
"Yes." She grinned at his expression. "Not well. But we’ve raided his fortress before."
"He has his own fortress apart from Kodos’?"
She nodded, watching the alien in the other room. "Yes. All of the generals do. They’re spread out over the surface of the planet. Kodos only calls one in when there’s something important to discuss. Otherwise, they are their own little gods over their territory."
"I see," he said, resting his hands beneath his chin in a contemplative gesture. "That explains a great deal."
Sheila grinned. "Glad to know I could be of assistance, Doctor." She left the wall and approached him. "Let me try to get him to talk. Please."
He shook his head. "Colonel, the commander would have my head if I let you in there. If you wish to speak to him, ask your husband."
She put her hands on her hips. "Damn it, Jackson! You know what he’d say!"
"Yes. I do."
"But he’s wrong. I am quite capable of handling Kurn without falling apart. Compared to Ming, he’s nothing but a weasel. You’ve got to let me speak to him. It may be our only chance to find out what’s going on!"
The doctor sighed. "I happen to agree with the commander’s orders concerning you, Colonel. Although my reasons are somewhat different."
She gave him an exasperated look. "I’m not about to chop him into pieces, Doctor! Look!" She spread her arms wide. "I’m not even armed."
He could see that she was, indeed, quite weaponless. "If harm comes to you..."
She grinned in triumph as she headed out of the lab. "I’ll be fine. Besides, you’ll be watching and can rescue me if necessary!"
***
"Hey, Dad! I heard the news."
Straker looked up from reading reports as his son walked into his HQ office. "Hello, John. Yes, two aliens. They were definitely up to something, travelling at those breakneck speeds."
John sat down in one of the office chairs. "Do you have any idea what they were trying to accomplish?"
His father shook his head, sitting back in his leather chair with folded hands. "Not really. Apparently, one of them was trying to get us information about a plot from the Thoelians. He’s dead now. We learned very little from him before he died. The other one seems to have been sent to stop him from relaying that information."
"Hmmm." John rubbed his chin. "Then, he succeeded."
"Yes. Although he’s not aware of that fact. It would be nice to know what was so important."
"Yeah. Is there any way of getting him to talk?"
Straker shook his head. "We’ve never had any success in the past with that, John. It’s doubtful we’d have a breakthrough now. No, he’ll die having done what he set out to do. But I’ll be damned if I give him the satisfaction of knowing it."
"Dad?" John seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he asked, "Have you considered having Sheila try to talk to him? I mean, she’d understand the language and everything, if she did get him to talk. Wouldn’t that be worth a try?"
Straker ran a hand across his eyes. "Yes. In theory. But it’s not such an easy thing in reality, John. Sheila went through so much at their hands. The last thing I want is for her to be traumatised by having to face one of them again. The risk is just too great."
"Yeah, but..." John thought for a minute. "It must have been a big deal for them to have come here like that. She might think it’s worth any risk to find out what he knows."
"She might," his father agreed grimly. "But I’m not giving her the option."
John met that steely gaze and cleared his throat. "Um... I see. Well." He decided it might behoove him to change the subject. "Did you have fun last night at the Williams’? I was sorry to see you guys leave so early. Edith and I got into a really neat conversation after you left. Hell, Em and I didn’t leave their house until the wee hours!"
Straker’s grim look only deepened. "Did you?"
"Yeah. You know, I’ve got to hand it to Sheila. She is one sly lady."
"What do you mean?"
John shrugged. "Her timing was impeccable. Waiting until we’d announced the baby on the way to tell me about Edith’s little hobby. I’ve got to hand it to her." He shifted in his chair. "Say, Dad. Did you know about Edith being into time travel?"
Straker looked away from those blue eyes so like his own. "I’d heard something about it, I believe."
"Hmmm. What do you think of us becoming parents, huh? Pretty wild, isn’t it?"
His father smiled. "I think it’s wonderful news, John."
"Yeah." John grinned for a while, dwelling on his new status as an expectant parent. "I still haven’t come down from when Emily first told me. I feel like I’m flying without a jet. It reminds me of some of the space walks I’ve done, you know? Heady stuff, becoming a father. Was it like that for you when you found out about me, Dad?"
Straker considered. "Not quite, John. The circumstances were somewhat different. I had just recently met Sheila, for one thing, and I was pretty torn between my duty to Mary and my love for Sheila at that point. When I learned that Mary was expecting, it was both a blow and a relief. A blow to any plans to be with Sheila, but a relief to have the decision taken out of my hands."
"I can see that, I guess," John said quietly.
His father nodded. "Once that was passed, yes. It was rather a heady concept to know that I’d helped create a life. And when you were born, I was beside myself."
"Well, I know it was a pretty rough time for you. With my mother throwing a fit and everything, then falling down the stairs. I’ll bet you were terrified."
"Yes," Straker said softly. "But that’s not what I meant. Even with all those worries, it was just so amazing to see you, John. So tiny and perfect. I can’t describe it."
"Wow. Well, I guess I have that to look forward to, huh?"
"It’ll be here sooner than you think."
"And you’ll be a grandpa."
Straker looked surprised for a moment, then grinned. "Grandpa! Well, that’s a name I never thought I’d have."
John chuckled. "I don’t know. I think it suits you fine."
"Really?"
He looked so pleased that John had to stifle a laugh. "Sure, Dad. I can see it now. Of course, you’ll have to give up your cool car. It doesn’t fit the image. I think a nice sedate Mercedes is in order. Something in a grey or tan would do the trick. I’d be happy to take your old car off your hands for you."
Straker chuckled. "I’m sure you would. And you’re not touching my car! I’ll just have to be an eccentric old grandpa."
John choked. There was silence in the office for a few minutes, each man thinking his own thoughts. Then John said, "You know, Dad. I still can’t get over Sheila dropping that information into my lap like that last night. She doesn’t look it, but she’s as sly as they come, isn’t she?"
"I’m not sure what you mean, John."
"Well, hell! She knew it was okay for me to learn how to get back to my own world. I mean, like I would leave here now or anything!"
"You wouldn’t?" Straker asked softly.
"Are you kidding? Leave Emily and our baby? I couldn’t do it. I miss my family, Dad. Don’t get me wrong. Sometimes it hits me right between the ribs, and I wonder how I’ll get along without them. But I have Emily. And you. It’s funny. If I was to go back now, I don’t think I’d get along with my father very well. I like you better the way you are here. And Emily. Hell, I’d spend all my time trying to find her. But she’d be so much older, and probably married to some other chap by the time I found her. And Sheila. You two are such a trip, you know. If I went back, I don’t know. I think I’d be uncomfortable around you and Mom. Your marriage just isn’t the same."
Straker looked inquiring. "In what way?"
John shrugged. "It’s just... different. You’re happier, I think. You and Sheila. And relaxed. As if you’re right where you want to be. You know?"
His father did know. Nothing had centered his life more than having Sheila in it. And knowing she felt the same way about him made everything seem in its proper place for the first time in his life. "I think so," he answered with a sigh. It was difficult to remain angry with her after being reminded of her importance to him. He’d have to apologize. Fortunately, Sheila had never been one to make him beg for forgiveness.
"Say, Dad? You weren’t in on that, were you? I mean, letting me know the possibilities of time travel that way? Did you put Sheila up to it?"
"No, John." Straker took a breath. "She managed that one on her own."
"Well, it was priceless," his son said with a grin. "Not that I would have gone any other time. I’m happy to be here, Dad."
"I’m glad to hear it." Straker sat forward in his chair. "You should tell her. I think she’d be delighted to know how you feel about it."
"Sure." John stood up. "Do you know where she is?"
"In her office, I believe."
"No, she wasn’t in when I walked by. Could she be upstairs in the studio?"
Straker looked briefly concerned, then his face became bland. "It’s possible, John."
"Well, I’m taking Em out for dinner to a posh restaurant tonight to celebrate. You two want to join us?"
"Not tonight, John. Some celebrations are better with just two."
John grinned. "You’re right. Okay. Maybe we can invite you to dinner at our house sometime this week."
"I’m sure we’d love to come."
"Great!"
Straker closed the office door after his son left, but did not return to reading reports. He sat brooding for several minutes, staring fixedly at a point somewhere across the room. Suddenly his eyes widened, and he got up hurriedly and left the office.
***
Joan was just sitting down on her comfortable couch a little later with her meal when the doorbell rang. She frowned, wondering who it could be. Her job kept her from having many friends Earthside, and those she did possess knew that her first day home was always a day to rest and relax. No company allowed! But as she peeked through the peephole in her door, she felt her heart skip a beat. It was her new neighbor from upstairs. She was so irritated at her reaction to seeing him there that she scowled.
Fred decided not to make a comment on her expression when she opened the door. He understood that women had moods. "Hi, Joan."
"Hullo," she said as she leaned against the door. Obviously she wasn’t about to invite him inside.
So he took it upon himself to invite himself. He held out the plate of brownies he carried and backed her into the room with them, saying, "I wanted to apologize for all the trouble we were today. It’s not a good policy to have your neighbors mad at you, you know."
She accepted the plate and eyed the brownies critically. They looked wonderfully gooey, just the way she liked them, and she wondered how he had known.
As if anticipating her question, he said, "I always kept a batch on hand at my old flat for Sheila when we’d be jamming, and it’s a habit now."
"Well, thanks," she said, then thought perhaps that sounded a bit ungracious and added, "They look really good."
He sniffed the air meaningfully and said, "Whatever you’re cooking smells good, too." In fact, the delicious smell had been taunting him for a half hour, until he simply had to do something about it.
"It’s lasagna," she said dismissively, but was not proof against his hopeful expression. "Have you eaten?"
"No," he replied, which was sort of true. He didn’t consider the contents of his cupboard to be real food. Not anything that rated as high as lasagna, at least.
She sighed. "Would you care to join me?" He wasn’t the only one who could make peace, she thought.
"Sure. What can I do to help?" he said, moving toward the small dining table in the corner. "Shall I clear this off for you and set the table?"
Joan looked at the mound of unopened mail and paperback novels scattered on her table and said, "No. Don’t bother. I never use the table, really. I usually sit on the couch."
Even better, he thought, trying to keep the grin off his face. "No problem."
She made him up a heaping plate of the mouth-watering dish, over twice what she had on her plate, so he was pretty sure that she either had brothers or was used to being around guys. He intended to find out which it was in the very near future. In fact, he intended to find out every little detail of her life just as soon as he could. There was just something about that sassy mouth of hers that made his head spin. It was a novel feeling, and he liked it. Very much.
She had a movie all set to play on her VCR, but looked at him hesitantly before turning it on. "What is it?" he asked.
"I have weird tastes in movies," she said, sounding embarrassed.
Now he was really intrigued. "Oh?"
"I couldn’t decide whether to watch an old movie or a new one."
"What’s the old one?"
She grimaced. "My Man Godfrey."
He looked at her in surprise. "Really? That’s my mom’s favorite."
Joan smiled in relief. "It’s one of mine, too. I like to play it when I’ve had a hard day. It makes me laugh and puts me in a better mood."
"Well, I’m sorry you’ve had a bad day," he said softly.
"Oh!" she said, blushing. "I didn’t mean...!"
Fred couldn’t help grinning. "No, it’s okay. Um, what’s the other movie?"
Her blush deepened. "It’s... um... Aliens."
His brow lifted. "Aliens? As in Sigourney Weaver’s second Alien movie?"
"You’ve seen it?"
"I love it!" he said simply.
"Yeah?" she said in relief, glad that he didn’t find it odd for a girl to like a blood and guts movie like that one. "Mr. Straker’s negotiating for a third movie in the series right now."
"Whoa! That’s great!"
Joan grinned. "That’s what I think." She held up the case. "Shall we watch that one then?"
"Sure." He dug into his pasta as he watched her switch movies and start the show. His eyes kept straying to the rock on top of the TV throughout the opening credits, however. "What do you do at the studio, Joan?" he asked.
"Oh, I look for locations for movies. I check out possible sites and see if they’re available to use and that."
"So, you go all over," he said.
She nodded. "Just about. And I’m on the road a lot. That’s why I’m seldom here."
"I see." He frowned for a moment, staring at the enormous rock. Then he said, "Where did you pick up that guy?"
She met his eyes in surprise. "Oh. Um..." She would have liked to tell him her standard answer; that she got it in her travels. But since he was a geologist, she didn’t think that answer would work very well. "It was a gift."
He raised a brow. "Must be some friend."
"What do you mean?"
"I haven’t seen moonrocks that large in museums."
"Oh." She was saved from trying to come up with a plausible explanation by the frightening scene where Ripley had her nightmare, and talk ceased while the pace of the action built toward the final climax.
***
"Seeg Kurn."
The Thoelian on the hospital bed was in pain. He had endured Earth’s pathetic attempts to treat his wounds, but knew it was just a matter of time before he died. And a short time at that. He had cherished great plans of conquest for his life. How bitter was the taste of his mortality now! At the hands of a pitiful enemy. In this hellhole. He had been basking in frustrated anger, feeling something approaching euphoria in the annihilating bitterness that coursed through his veins. But at the sound of his name, his eyes opened involuntarily, and he looked toward the door.
And sat up in surprise. "You! Here?"
Sheila stood by the door, her grin fierce. "Me," she answered. "Here."
Kurn rose from the hospital bed, forcing his weakened legs to hold his weight. "I had thought you dead long since. You, who dared to kill Ming! You should be dead. A slow and gruesome death is the fit reward for one such as you!"
She nodded as if in agreement, but said, "Instead, it is you who will die, Kurn." Her head cocked to the side a bit as her smile widened. "Life is so unfair, isn’t it?"
His fists clenched in response and his black eyes burned with hate, but he hadn’t enough energy to attack her. He knew it was necessary to conserve what remained of his strength if he hoped to have the chance to kill her. So. He would just have to bring her to him. "You will die. Soon. You and all your worthless people with you!"
She took a step into the room. "Yes. Of course. Kodos’ big plan. Mattimeo was most helpful in explaining it to us. You failed your mission, Kurn. You didn’t stop him at all. Whatever would Kodos say to that?"
He had to unclench his jaw to answer her. "Knowledge matters not. Kodos’ plan is beyond brilliant! You will not stop it from descending upon you."
"Oh, but Kurn," she purred confidently, while inside her heart sank. It didn’t matter that they knew? It must, surely? Else, why did he follow Mattimeo here? "We will stop it. Have we not always thwarted every Thoelian plan in the past? This too will be unsuccessful. And won’t Kodos be pleased that you helped us by your inability to silence Mattimeo?"
"You cannot stop it!" he shouted, angered beyond reason. "Kodos’ plan was perfect! Some doubted. Ming himself refused it! But Kodos acted anyway, and you see the end of it. Kodos will rule Earth soon, and Ming is dead! Killed by a pathetic Earthling!"
Ming? Ming had been dead for more than thirteen years. If he had been involved, then how long-range was this scheme? "Doesn’t it drive you mad, Kurn?" she said, coming a bit closer. "To know that you’ve been beaten time and time again by a foe so unworthy of you?"
"It matters not!" he roared at her. "We have won! You cannot stop the utter destruction! It is already underway! Earth will soon be ours! And your dead bodies will furnish us with all we need for many years!"
ACT V
"What on Earth do you think you’re doing?"
Dr. Jackson had been so intent on the scene playing out in the next room that he jumped at the sound of the commander’s voice. He knew himself to be at a disadvantage with Straker, who was both his commander, whom he had disobeyed, and Sheila’s husband, who was undoubtedly concerned for her safety. Indeed, those icy blue eyes were very difficult to meet as he answered. "I am sorry, Commander. She insisted that she could make him talk."
"That’s beside the ...!"
Jackson interrupted smoothly. "But that is the point! She was right. He is talking to her!"
Straker frowned and went over to the glass wall to watch his wife. She seemed quite calm, but he sensed that she was worried. Whatever the Thoelian was telling her wasn’t good news. Which he supposed was obvious from the alien’s expression. It was contorted with rage. He could almost sympathise with the man. He wanted to yell at her himself. For disobeying him. For putting herself in danger. For being far more willing to take risks with her life than he was with her. He sighed. For being right. He said, "Have you been able to catch any of what they’re saying?"
The doctor let out a soft sigh of relief before answering. Nothing was as scathing as one of Straker’s icy setdowns. Even after twenty years, Jackson still dreaded his wrath. But apparently it had passed now. "No, Commander. I assume they are speaking Thoelian. It is a different tongue from the one she used earlier with the Tuataran."
Straker nodded his understanding, but did not venture a reply. His entire attention was focused on his wife in the next room.
***
Kurn felt the pain in his side increase and forced himself to relax. She was goading him. And he’d been letting her get to him. Well, two could play that game. He gave her a smirk that did nothing to hide the hate in his eyes and said, "We will always be superior to such a weak-willed race as you. Do you have any idea how easy it is to manipulate you to do our will? Sometimes it is not even necessary to reprogram you. You are such predictable fools!"
She lifted a brow. "And yet a mere Tuataran and a mere Earth organisation have brought you down, Kurn. It doesn’t bear thinking of!"
"Ah! But I injured him badly. And his partner I killed quite slowly." He looked introspective momentarily. "One pleasant thing about your two races is that you take so long to die."
Sheila’s heart stopped. Everyone knew that Mattimeo worked with only one partner. Mireya, his sister. If Kurn had killed her...! She took a quick step closer to him. "You lie!"
Kurn laughed harshly. "Indeed, it is quite true. The agonies you endure trying to survive are so amusing. So much easier on you if you’d just give up, but so much less entertaining. Mireya... I believe that was what she eventually told me her name was... something like that anyway. Did you know her?"
Sheila got up in his face, quivering with fury. "You bastard!"
Kurn grabbed her throat in both hands and squeezed.
***
Straker gasped and ran for the door of the lab, but Jackson’s voice stopped him.
"No, Commander!"
He looked back at the doctor incredulously. "Are you insane? He’s killing her!"
Jackson kept his eyes on the two in the next room. "I do not think so. Watch your wife!"
Straker followed his gaze to where the Thoelian stood with his hands around Sheila’s neck, slowly squeezing the life out of her. It was almost more than he could bear to see. He looked away, then back with a frown. Something was wrong. Sheila wasn’t fighting him. In fact, she was calmly staring the alien down as he tried to kill her. What...? He glanced at Jackson in confusion.
"Her hands," the doctor said softly. "Watch her hands."
It was then that he noticed that while Sheila kept the Thoelian’s eyes locked with hers, she was slowly lifting something out of her blouse. He couldn’t tell what it was, but when she pressed it against the alien’s hand, it had an immediate effect. The Thoelian screamed in pain and backed away, loosing his hold on her to protect himself. In a move so swift that Straker nearly missed it, Sheila moved in and gave the alien a chop to his neck that felled him where he stood. Straker didn’t wait for any more before running from the lab.
***
When he entered the hospital room, she was on her knees on the floor, gasping for breath.
"Sheila! Sheila!" he cried, grabbing her and brushing her hair from her eyes. "Are you all right?" he kept asking over and over.
She nodded, but couldn’t speak for a moment or two. He repeated his question again, and she realized that he didn’t believe her. Finally she said hoarsely, "Yes, Ed. I’m okay. I’m okay."
"You’re sure?" he asked, making her meet his eyes.
She gave him a tremulous smile. "Yeah. I’m fine."
He suddenly shook her fiercely by the arms. "Then what the hell do you think you were doing?"
She met that icy rage with a soft smile, laying a shaky hand against his face. "I love you, too."
He crushed her to him, muttering against her hair, "Don’t ever do anything like that again! Do you hear me? Ever!"
"I promise," she soothed, running her fingers through the hair at his nape. "I promise."
Her touch calmed him as nothing else could, and it wasn’t long before he released her to check her throat. "Jackson!" he ordered as he urged her into a nearby chair. "Examine her. Now!"
The doctor had been evaluating the damage done to the Thoelian, but came over and examined Sheila’s throat carefully.
"Well?" demanded the commander impatiently.
Dr. Jackson met Sheila’s eyes, and seeing the rueful humor in her gaze, had to choke down a chuckle. "There is some bruising," he told Straker. "And minor swelling. But there doesn’t appear to be any serious damage. Is it painful to swallow, Colonel?"
She tried it and shook her head. "Not really," she said.
He said, "If it becomes painful in the next twenty-four hours or you experience difficulty breathing for any reason, return here immediately."
"All right."
The doctor gave her a stern glance. "You are much better off than your adversary. You snapped his neck."
"Did I?" she asked calmly.
"What did you use to hurt his hand?" Jackson inquired.
She held up the blue stone that hung around her neck. "Eddie’s rock."
Her husband said, "I don’t understand. He reacted as if you had burned him severely, but I know for a fact that stone isn’t hot to the touch."
"You’re right," she answered. "It isn’t. But this stone is formed from volcanic activity on Tuatara. The Tuatarans call it kadira, and it comes in every shade of blue imaginable. But for some reason, the Thoelians have no tolerance for it. It causes a strange chemical reaction with their skin, almost like acid does with ours. Some of our group used kadira for the blades of their knives. I guess I don’t have to tell you why."
Jackson’s lips thinned slightly. "You lied to me, Colonel."
She understood what he was referring to, but grinned unrepentantly. "Not at all, Doctor. I was unarmed. It’s just a rock. See for yourself."
She lifted it for his inspection, but he disdained from examining it. "You were determined he would die when you insisted on seeing him."
"That was hardly necessary. He was dying anyway. In fact, I would have preferred him to survive our encounter." Her face darkened. "He deserved a nice slow death. It was a kindness to make it so quick."
"Sheila." Her husband gave her a forbidding look, and she stopped glaring at the dead alien across the room to meet his eyes.
"He killed Mireya, Ed. Tortured her." She swallowed the sob that threatened and added, "I don’t know how Timon will carry on."
Straker sighed and rested a hand on her shoulder. "I’m sorry, Sheila. But he’ll find a way to go on, even if for no other reason than to thwart his enemies. Sometimes it’s all you have."
She knew he spoke from experience and laid her hand over his on her shoulder. "I know," she whispered.
There was silence for several moments, then the commander asked her, "What did he tell you about the plot, Sheila? Were you able to trick him into saying anything?"
"Not very much. But I did learn that Ming had refused the plan when it was shown to him. However, Kodos instituted it anyway behind his back."
Straker frowned. "Ming? How long ago did this happen?"
She shrugged worriedly. "I don’t know. At least thirteen years or more. Kurn made it sound as though it was meant to be a progressive destruction. Not a bomb or something sudden, but something insidious that would happen over a long period of time. He said that Earth would be theirs soon. Not immediately. But soon."
His frown deepened. "How soon?"
She shook her head.
Dr. Jackson asked, "Were you able to figure out how the destruction would be carried out, Colonel?"
"I think..." Sheila thought back to Kurn’s words. "He said that our dead bodies would be used by them for many years to sustain themselves. So, apparently whatever they’ve done, it isn’t biological warfare, or our bodies would be full of whatever disease they used to kill us off."
Straker said, "They’ve tried chemical warfare before. Using our own manmade toxins to poison our air."
Sheila nodded. She had read the report on that incident. "But I believe that idea was very short-sighted. It would have been another hundred years before they could have safely relocated here."
The doctor considered. "Yes. There are not so many ways to wipe out an entire planet and still leave it habitable."
"I agree," she said. "I wish I could tell you more."
"Could they be trying to use a natural disaster to do it?" Straker asked. "We know they’ve tried that before. An earthquake. Or a hurricane, perhaps?"
Jackson shook his head. "I don’t think so. Neither an earthquake nor a hurricane could cause destruction on a global scale. It would take a cataclysm of immense proportions to destroy all life on Earth."
"Cataclysm," Sheila murmured, her eyes widening. "Ed!" She jumped up from the chair and headed for the door. "There’s something I have to check out first. But I may know what they’ve been doing."
"What is it, Sheila?" he asked.
She shook her head at him. "Not until I’m sure. The theory’s kind of wild."
Straker sighed. "Sheila, you can’t go."
She turned in the doorway. "Why not?"
"Look at yourself."
Sheila glanced down at herself, then from him to Jackson inquiringly. The doctor merely pointed to the wall mirror, and she went over to it. "Oh." Dark bruises stood out against her pale skin, making two clear handprints around her neck. She grimaced at her reflection and met her husband’s eyes in the mirror. "It’s not as bad as it looks, Ed."
"If it was, you’d be dead," he replied grimly. He was only slightly appeased when she came over to kiss his hard mouth.
"I’ll wear a turtleneck, okay?" She headed back out the door, but stopped and told him, "Oh! By the way, we’re having company for dinner."
***
"You’ve had an interesting day, Gibbon."
Fred looked over at Straker as he took a chair in the study. "Yes, sir." His fingers lightly touched his black eye. "You could say that."
Sheila grinned at him from the couch next to her husband. "It’s a good thing the TV rock music special is done, isn’t it? You’d look wonderful sporting that thing on camera, Fred."
Straker gave her a look as if to say she had no room to talk, and she subsided into giggles. There was a rueful smile on his lips when he turned back to the drummer. "What was in your paper that got your professor so riled?"
Fred hesitated, but Sheila said, "Go on, Fred. Like me, Ed has a strong background in physics. He should be able to follow you."
Fred brushed his hair out of his eyes and settled back in the comfortable chair. "Well, sir. I’m a geologist, and my field of focus has been the earth’s crust. I’ve been studying for some time the movements of the lithosphere, what laymen call the outer crust of the planet."
"Yes, I am aware of the term."
The drummer swallowed and darted a look at Sheila, who smiled and nodded for him to continue. "Well. Different things affect the movement of the lithosphere: gravity, polar caps, angle of planetary tilt. Things like that. It can get pretty complicated."
Straker sighed. The problem with scientists, he had always found, was that they had twenty ways of going around the block rather than the direct approach. In an effort to speed things up, he said, "Are you suggesting something along the lines of Hapgood’s experiments with earth-crust displacement?"
Fred blinked at him in shock, then directed an inquiring look at Sheila. She smiled and shrugged. "I’ve learned over time that there isn’t much that goes on in the scientific community that Ed doesn’t hear about sooner or later."
"Oh. Well, yes, Mr. Straker. In fact, this has direct bearing on his displacement theory. You see, I’ve found evidence that the earth is gearing up for just such an event. We’re talking global destruction on a grand scale. Massive climate shifts, displacement of whole continents, volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, tidal waves like we’ve never seen. Everything, sir. That was the focal point of my paper."
Straker frowned. "But the onset of the type of cataclysm you’re talking about would be obvious over a long period of time, Gibbon. Years. Even decades. Surely Earth isn’t anywhere close to one in the next thousand years or so?"
"Ordinarily, sir, I would have to agree with you. But certain factors point to the probability of a global cataclysm sometime in the next seven to ten years."
The commander met Sheila’s eyes for a moment, then he asked quietly, "What factors?"
Fred said, "The weather, for one thing, sir. I mean, meteorologists keep spouting weather cycles and that kind of crap, which may make it easier for them to sleep nights, but doesn’t have any bearing on what’s actually happening. Haven’t you noticed the increase of earthquakes, hurricanes, and volcano eruptions in the past twenty years? Not to mention the freaky weather."
Straker’s mouth was grim. "Yes, I have noticed it." In fact, he had one of the science teams continually working on finding the causes of it. "Why aren’t those who monitor the weather daily worried, do you think?"
Fred sighed. "It’s rather like not being able to see the forest for the trees, sir. And they can look back a century or so and find other flareups in the weather patterns and say it’s just a cycle we’re going through."
"What makes you think it isn’t?"
"That’s where it gets a bit technical. There’s been an increase in crust movement over the past two decades. Not random increases, but a steady rise in movement globally."
Straker drew in a breath. That would explain a lot, including Moonbase’s anomalous readings over the past few years. "You’re certain of this?"
The drummer shrugged. "The figures speak for themselves, sir. But the thing is, no one wants to look at them."
"Why not?"
Fred ran a hand through his hair. "Well, sir. Because it was deliberate."
Straker stared at him for a moment in silence, then asked, "In what way, deliberate?"
"There were several major earthquakes in ‘70. Do you remember them, sir? Turkey, Brazil, Australia, Canada, upper Siberia, South Africa."
Straker’s grim look deepened. Too well he remembered Turkey, and the alien bomb that would have gone off in England but for one young woman’s courage. "Yes, I remember."
Fred nodded. "I’d have to show you on a map, sir, but those are some key points throughout the world where undue stress below the surface could bring about a massive displacement of the entire earth’s crust, just as Hapgood suggested in his theories. The results of those earthquakes are what we’ve been experiencing for the past twenty years, sir. Increased volcanic activity, major earthquakes all over the globe, unusual weather shifts, flooding. You name it."
The commander gave him a level look out of those blue eyes. "You said it was deliberate. Who do you think is responsible?"
Fred shook his head. "That’s just it, sir. I don’t know. It’s the weakest point of my paper, because there’s no way to know who did this. That’s what Godfrey, my professor, was making a big joke about to his class. He said I was suggesting that it was little green men from Mars. He was just being an ass, but he’s right on one point. Whoever thought it up was a technological genius. It’s probably more like one of those megalomaniac people you see in a James Bond movie, or some military type out to prove a point or something. The thing is, it’s not so important to know who did it as it is to accept that it’s happening at all."
"I don’t agree, Gibbon. I believe that it’s just as important to know who did it, because then we’ll know why it was done. But here’s a question that perhaps you have given some thought to: how do we stop it?"
Fred stared at him. "Um... I hadn’t really explored that avenue, sir. The focus of my dissertation was to bring it to the attention of the scientific world."
"I realize that. But accepting that global cataclysm is going to happen in... what did you say? The next seven to ten years. How can we prevent it?"
"I..." Fred gulped. He’d always been nervous around Sheila’s husband, because that icy blue gaze had often seemed to look right through him. But right now, it was as though Straker was skewering him to the spot with his eyes alone. He looked frantically at Sheila for help.
She smiled, understanding his distress. Ed could be very intimidating at times. She leaned forward and said, "Is there some way to anchor the lithosphere, Fred, so that the movements can be kept to a minimum?"
He sighed in relief. "I’m not sure. It would certainly be worth a try. I could probably come up with the places where the anchors would have the most effect, but I have no idea what you’d use as your anchor in the first place."
Straker said softly, "What if I told you that your professor was correct, Gibbon?"
Fred reluctantly met his eyes. "What do you mean?"
Straker met his wife’s gaze for a moment, and silent communication passed between them. Fred could see it, but couldn’t tell what they were discussing. Then Straker speared him again with that arctic look. "I’d like you to come with me."
As he got up from the couch, Fred stood as well, looking somewhat bewildered. "Where, sir?"
Straker’s smile did nothing to lessen the man’s tension. It was quite grim. "To tell your theory to a group of scientists who I can guarantee will be more... shall we say... open-minded."
***
Fred’s mouth was still hanging open when the commander ushered him into the large conference room at SHADO HQ. Wow! Secret organisations, aliens, and everything! All hidden under a film studio. It boggled the mind! It suddenly occurred to him that Joan worked for the studio. Did she know...? As he glanced around the conference room, he saw her staring at him in shock from a seat across the long table. He grinned. Of course, she knew!
Straker ushered him to a seat at the table and introduced the rest of the group. One of them was a general, although the rest seemed to be mostly scientists from one field of research or another that might have bearing on this crisis. But Joan was merely introduced as "the tracker who has been monitoring the discrepancies from Moonbase." Moonbase? Hot damn! Well, that definitely explained where she got that rock of hers!
The commander finished the introductions with Fred, saying, "And this is Fred Gibbon, the geologist who figured out what the aliens are up to. Many of you in this room have studied Hapgood’s theories about earth-crust displacement and the potential for global calamity if the entire crust is jolted into movement for some reason. I believe that Earth has been witness to such calamities in the past; Antarctica is a prime example of an island that once was fertile and green and is now buried under two miles of ice. Certain areas of Siberia also show evidence of having been much more temperate than they are at present. We know that displacement can occur, and many scientists have postulated how it can happen. And in the natural course of time, Earth would set itself up for such an event somewhere in the next few thousand years.
"But someone has altered that timetable. And Earth is anticipating just such a global catastrophe in the next decade. I’d like to get a clearer picture of just how much time we have, but hopefully that won’t be necessary. Because we’ve got to stop it. Now. Somehow. Some way. We’ve got to undo the damage that’s been done by the Thoelians before they succeed in causing a massive global shift in our lithosphere. I don’t think I need stress the seriousness of this crisis to you. A global cataclysm of this magnitude means not only the end of SHADO, but of all life on Earth as we know it. And once the seas die down and the weather calms, the Thoelians would be able to take over with no opposition at all. A grim thought to consider, isn’t it?
"Now I’ve asked General Shaw to join us, since he may be able to put us in contact with certain friends of his who have knowledge we might be able to use to avert this disaster. Col. Sarek is here for the same reason. His work history includes some terraforming experience and may be quite useful to us. And what he doesn’t know, he may be able to find out from his people. I want every idea seriously considered in your efforts to stop this calamity. No matter how absurd. No matter how odd it may sound. Earth is depending on you, all of you, to keep us safe throughout this crisis. Not that I want you to feel pressured or anything..."
Here the group chuckled a little, but soon became serious once more. Everyone was aware that the situation was too grim for much levity.
Straker continued. "I want you to know up front that I am confident that we’ll succeed in finding an answer to this crisis. Earth is our home, and we won’t give her up without a fight. Col. Sarek has a rough lab schedule worked out for you. All other duties are suspended for the timebeing, so that you may work solely on this project. We will get you a copy of Gibbon’s thesis and his notes from his research as soon as possible. Any questions?"
There didn’t seem to be any, and the group broke up shortly thereafter. The commander stopped Joan as she was leaving and said softly, "A word with you, Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir."
He led her away from where a few of the others were speaking among themselves. "I’m sorry about Moonbase, Lieutenant. But you’re the one who’s familiar with the displacement that’s already occurred, and I felt that you would be more helpful here than back on Moonbase."
"That’s all right, sir," she answered. Of course, she didn’t want to remain Earthside for an immeasurable amount of time, but she was actually quite keen on this project. It was going to be thrilling trying to outwit those damn aliens, and she didn’t want to miss any of it! She refused to speculate on her excitement over having Fred on the team. It wasn’t important, after all. "Who will you put in charge of Moonbase then?"
Straker sighed. "Having both you and Col. Sarek Earthside will leave both Moonbases a little understaffed. But Col. Carlin has volunteered to take over Moonbase 2 for a few months, although I want him back here once his wife is close to her due date. We’ll figure out that problem when we get there. And Virginia and Paul have agreed to rotate time at Moonbase for a while. We should be able to handle it."
"Right."
"Thank you for understanding, Joan," he said.
She looked at him and smiled. It wasn’t often that anyone got to see how much he cared for the members of SHADO. Individually, and not just as an organisation. And because of that, it was always very special when you did see it. "I am honored to be able to be a part of the team, sir. We’ll find your solution for you."
He grinned at her enthusiasm. "I know you will, Lieutenant."
EPILOGUE
He entered the bedroom quietly and noticed his wife sitting at the vanity, brushing her long hair. She met his eyes in the mirror and said, "Hello."
Straker advanced into the room enough to take off his coat and lay it over a chair. "I’m sorry I’m so late."
"Well, it’s been a long day all around, I think. How did it go?"
He came over and took the brush from her, taking over the task of brushing her hair. "Pretty well. The team seemed to relate well together. I’m hopeful of what they will accomplish."
Her eyes sought his in the mirror again. "Do we have a chance of stopping it, Ed?"
"Yes, I think so. Keep in mind, Sheila, that the Solarians are our allies. And General Shaw is looking into options from his people. We’re not alone in this." He paused, then added, "And I also think that Gibbon is a godsend. His conclusions about what was happening to the earth’s crust were nothing short of brilliant. Frankly, I’m glad to have him on the team."
Sheila grinned, knowing how much it cost him to say that. Generally an excellent judge of character, he hated to find out he was wrong in an assessment. "I’m glad too, Ed."
He was silent for awhile, brushing her luxurious hair. Finally he glanced back at her in the mirror. "Fred Gibbon wasn’t the only one you were right about, Sheila."
"Oh?"
Straker sighed. "You were right about John, as well. I’m sorry for what I said to you last night."
"It’s okay, Ed."
The brush faltered for a moment, then continued stroking. "Is it?"
"Yeah. Granted, I would have really been upset if I thought you meant it."
He felt compelled to admit, "I did mean it when I said it."
"Yes, but that was just your fear talking."
He looked confused.
She explained, "Look, Ed. I was upset about it at the time. But once I thought about it, I realized that you were just scared of losing him. And looking at the situation that way, it must have seemed to you as though I had betrayed you. Once I understood that, I wasn’t upset any more."
He set the brush down and stroked her hair with his fingers. "You amaze me."
She grinned, her dark eyes twinkling at him in the mirror. "Good."
His lips curved into a wry smile. "I don’t deserve such an understanding wife, you know."
Her head cocked slightly as she considered that statement. "You just say that because you’ve never had one before."
Straker chuckled in spite of himself. "You may be right." He went on his knees beside her vanity stool, taking her hands in his and looking into her beautiful eyes. "Why are you so understanding, Sheila?"
She turned her hands in his and grasped them tightly. "Because you make it easy for me to be. You really have very few motives for doing what you do, Ed. And the main one is always love."
He blinked in surprise. "Love?"
She nodded. "Yes. It’s why you give your life every day to ensure the safety of everyone on Earth. It’s why you do everything, from forgiving Mary to forgiving me. You’re a wonderful man, Ed Straker."
He shook his head, but leaned forward to kiss her hand. "I’m glad that you think so. I hope I can live up to such an image."
She smiled softly. "You don’t have to. You already are that man."
"You’re the wonderful one."
"Am I?"
He nodded, his throat closing as he looked at her. "Why do you love me so much?" he asked hoarsely.
She lifted a hand to his hair and brushed it gently back from his forehead. "Because you love me."
She continually surprised him. "Sheila, everybody loves you! I’m not special in that."
But she was shaking her head. "No, Ed. Your love is different from everyone else’s, because you love me just as I am. No one else ever has, you know."
"What’s not to love?" he asked in bewilderment.
She smiled sweetly. "Oh, Ed. I’m not what I seem to be when people look at me. I’m not sweet. I’m ornery. And stubborn. And headstrong. But you love me in spite of all those things."
"I think you’re very sweet," he said, wisely deciding not to comment on the rest.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. For instance, it was very sweet of you to wear this nightgown tonight. You know how I feel about you in red."
Sheila laughed. "And how is that, Ed?" she asked saucily.
He scooped her into his arms and brought her to the bed. He laid down next to her across the counterpane and toyed with one thin strap. "Allow me to demonstrate," he said huskily and slipped it off her shoulder.