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  “Congratulations,” Fraser whispered. “The boss is really impressed by your work!” Satisfied by the slight flush that preceded the frown on Judy’s face by milliseconds, he walked back to his equipment and sat down. Eric was right; there is a real woman in there… somewhere. He smiled, his teeth gleaming in the gloom of the truck. I guess it might be fun getting to know her, now it looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time together.

  ***

  Ed finished his entry, got up from his computer and walked back to the others.

  “There’s some other points we should consider: First, this business of the local high school burning down last night; it had a sprinkler system that was operational, but somehow it didn’t work initially – it only cut in when the fire was really well-established. Second, Richard’s uncle died about two months ago, just a short time before Richard awoke from his coma.” Baynes looked around, gauging the effect of each titbit of information.

  “Third- If I may add something, sir?” Judy began nervously, her blue eyes sparkling in the low light.

  “Please do,” Ed urged, trying not to smile in anticipation.

  “Third, a prominent nuclear scientist was kidnapped by extra-terrestrials just three days ago; fourth, a trailer-load of frozen food was hijacked just hours before the local school here was burned to the ground, fifth, an Alien observation base in Redcliff is signalling to a point beyond Earth’s atmosphere.” She thumped one fist into the palm of the other hand triumphantly. “Probably to the spacecraft that participated in the kidnapping!” Judy finished excitedly. Even she seemed surprised at the emotion she had evoked in herself.

  “Thank you, Brisson. What do you think, Leroy?” Baynes turned to him for another opinion, and to give himself time to disguise his expression before Judy recognized that his reaction was greater than she would expect from one who saw her as a subordinate only.

  “The lady said it, sir; that’s good enough for me,” he drawled.

  Ed looked at him, wondering if he should do anything about the sarcasm he detected, hoping that Judy had not noticed it, also. “Keep watching that ‘Castle’ thing,” he said finally as he walked back to his desk and picked up the red phone. So, Fraser doesn’t buy her theory. Well, I guess I’ll try to keep an open mind on all the possibilities. He looked back at Judy for a moment; she seemed to realize and glanced up from her monitors, her face now controlled and unexcited.

  “Good thinking,” Ed mouthed, and watched her reaction carefully, hoping for a positive sign, but getting nothing beyond a curt nod. I might get through to her some day. Of course, by then the world will probably be a slave market in sector ten of some Galactic dominion, and I’ll never see her again. Baynes cursed himself for getting involved with a member of his staff; he knew it could get him into trouble, especially as, deep down, he realized that there really was no involvement, it was all in his imagination, completely one-sided, and she would never be interested in him.

  Half an hour later, his report given, Ed walked over to Judy’s console and leaned down close to her ear. When she pulled away slightly he backed off, too, to give himself time to control his annoyance.

  “Brisson,” he whispered finally. “Do you still think there’s a chance that we haven’t been observed yet?”

  Judy stared at him for a moment. “Well, my first thought, sir, was that a race as advanced as this must be, would have detected us from the moment of the first active sensing, as you yourself suggested a little earlier, sir, but…”

  “Well,” Baynes urged, when she failed to continue.

  “It’s just that I expected some kind of reaction, sir,” she turned her head towards him and leaned it on one hand. “But there’s been nothing. Nothing that I can detect, anyway.”

  “Maybe another one of those impressive laser holes, only this time through our base… and maybe through us, also?”

  Judy nodded.

  “Well that’s it then!”

  “You mean there’s no one there?” she asked.

  “Or perhaps we have been observed and dismissed as insignificant,” Baynes suggested quietly, but no longer in a whisper. “Let’s find out which it is.” He stood up and turned away from her, galvanized by the crystallization of his thoughts. “GET ME BALTIMORE ON THE PHONE, FRASER,” he said loudly, “I WANT TO TALK TO MY NIECE.”

  Leroy raised one eyebrow quizzically.

  “Yeah, I know she’ll be sleeping,” he continued in a more normal tone as he walked over to his communications expert. “Lots of people will lose sleep, or much more, before long.”

  A few minutes later, Ed succeeded in convincing his brother-in-law that what he had to say was important enough to warrant waking up his niece, but not serious enough to worry about. As he was waiting for Amber to come to the phone, Baynes depressed the ‘mute’ button on his speaker-telephone, turned and caught Leroy’s attention.

  “Just how good is the scrambler on this phone?”

  “The code is more complex than any in general use in commercial and military circles in the U.S., Britain or other NATO countries; only ten people, all with security clearances above top secret, have access to the system, four of them are in this truck and only three of the remainder were at work when we got the message about Redcliff. The code is changed weekly, on a random basis, by one of the three.” Fraser shrugged. “Of course, it will be descrambled at an exchange in Baltimore, so anyone who knew where you were phoning could tap the line at the far end…”

  Ed nodded and switched the speaker ‘phone fully on, satisfied he had indeed taken all the precautions he could feasibly be expected to. They all heard the faint sound of his brother-in-law’s voice in another room, then:

  “Uncle Ed?”

  “Hello Amber! Sorry to wake you up, but this is important. I want you to bring your dog… er…”

  “Smoke,” she replied, after her sleep-fogged brain worked out the unspoken question.

  “Yes, of course! Smoke! He’s well, is he?”

  “Fine, Uncle.”

  “You are to go immediately to Woods Air Force Base, where a plane will be waiting to fly you to… here. Take a taxi… no, I’ll send a car for you,” Baynes continued, as he deciphered Leroy’s mouthed message.

  “Where are you?”

  “I can’t say right now. Just make sure you bring Smoke,” Ed paused. “Oh, and be sure to tell your Dad and Mom that I’ll be looking after you myself, so they needn’t worry. Consider it an all expenses-paid vacation from school for a couple of days.”

  “All right!” Amber was fully awake now and ready, or so she thought, for anything.

  “Oh, and wear something casual, ordinary, like you’re taking him for a walk, okay?”

  “Okay!”

  “See you soon, Amber!”

  “Goodbye!”

  “Goodbye!” Ed smoothly finished the call and pressed the disconnect button on the unit.

  Judy watched, amazed at her boss’s nerve, risking his own niece for some hastily conceived scheme. She wondered, in a slightly offended way, what a teenage girl and a dog could do that her surveillance was not capable of. Suddenly there was no longer any appeal in the prospect of discovering the true nature of the aliens that she had deduced were responsible for the kidnapping of three American citizens and the attempted destruction of their pleasure cruiser, the food robbery and attempted murder of truck driver Harry Paxson, and now the super-powerful microwave emissions and the destruction of an entire school and an Air Force fighter-jet. It was just plain frightening.

  As Ed glanced over at her again, Judy turned hastily back to her console and tried to breathe deeply without it being obvious that she was getting panicky. She rechecked the readings on the many instruments for a seventh time in case something otherwise undetectable had changed, because this would indicate that the aliens that she felt were behind this whole series of events had noticed them at last. When she found the numbers and dial-pointer positions were exactly as before, her heart rate went down unti
l it was nearer to its normal value again.

  Maybe they won’t fry us after all, or at least, not yet.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Controllers are not very good at waiting – Latt Jusstinalss

  Isaac awoke. He picked up his watch from the floor by his sleeping slab, almost dropping it as the intense cold hurt his fingertips, and discovered that it was just after six in the morning. I guess I was really tired last night. He sat up and looked around, noticing how relaxed and refreshed he felt. Must be something to do with sleeping in a low-gravity environment, he decided. He pulled his highly flexible boots on and stepped onto the frigid floor, glad that the rubber-like material, of which they were made, was also a very good insulator. A quick visit to the cylindrical contraption and its companion washstand on the opposite side of the dome completed his requirements for the moment. After that, he waved his hands around briefly until they were completely dry and walked over to his door to check if it was still locked. When it slid silently upwards on his approach, he walked through into the laboratory, struggling for a moment with the gravity slope. The contrast always seemed to make him feel far heavier than his normal weight, at least for a few minutes. Then he noticed the odour of gravy and saw Latt sitting by the oven that he and his friend Terry had constructed the previous night. He walked closer. He’s eating a… Salisbury steak dinner!

  Latt looked up as Isaac got near, and gulped down the mouthful he had been chewing. “Good… Verry good!” He pointed at the half-empty plastic plate with his spoon.

  “I didn’t think you’d like our food,” Isaac said in amazement, once he had got over his shock enough to speak.

  “Much bessst food… Latt never eat,” Latt confirmed.

  “You mean this is better than your own food?”

  “It… I…” Latt struggled to find the words, then raised his hands, palms up, in what had to be a universally recognizable gesture.

  “I can see how you feel!” Isaac smiled, astonished at the change in appearance and demeanour that had come over their jailer in the space of a few hours. Latt’s face was noticeably less grey than it had seemed before, and his expression was more alive and indicated an interest in life quite the opposite of its usual bland burnt-out blankness. What’s happened to him? Isaac moved towards Ruth’s door and waited impatiently while it slid up out of the way. Inside, he found Ruth pushing herself upright on her bed slab. She almost fell off it as she forgot to tone down her efforts to suit the low gravity in the sleeping areas.

  In a moment, Isaac was at her side, chuckling softly as he put out a hand to steady her. “It would be sad if you came this far, only to fall a foot from your bed and break your collar-bone!”

  “I won’t fall; you’re always here to save me!” Ruth kissed him. “I really missed you last night.” Her blue eyes widened at this. “How long did I sleep for, anyway?”

  “Oh,” Isaac looked at his watch automatically. “Only ten and a half hours! It’s a bit early for our normal breakfast, but this won’t exactly be a normal break–”

  “I wish you could have stayed with me,” she interrupted, softly. “I’m still scared of Latt; he doesn’t seem to be human, really. He’s so cold and hard; he makes me shiver.”

  Isaac helped her to put on her boots, waited as she got to her feet and hugged her – the coarse clothing under his hands providing a strange variation on the normal sensations of this expression of tenderness. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” He pulled her gently towards the doorway. “No, don’t worry about that for now;” he remarked as she looked over at her own, personal cylindrical contraption on the opposite side of the dome. “I don’t want you to miss this.” He led her out into the laboratory.

  Ruth gasped when she saw Latt. “What’s he doing?”

  “I eat…” Latt looked up at her, a puzzled expression on his face. “I like your food,” he said finally, as if this explained everything.

  Terry laughed from his doorway. “Well, that’s something I never expected to see!” He exchanged glances with Isaac and walked over to his friends. “I thought our food would be like poison to him.”

  “So did I,” Isaac murmured.

  “Iss all the food on Earth thisss good?” Latt put down his spoon and fork for a moment and looked at Ruth, his expression like that of a connoisseur at Harrod’s discussing the relative merits of items in the food department, as he waved his hand over the compartmentalised, unassuming plastic plate.

  “That’s a hard question to answer.” Ruth found it difficult not to smile as she thought about the luxurious and astonishingly expensive French restaurant to which Terry had taken her and Isaac, the night before they started out on the Getaway. “There are lots of different kinds of food on Earth. Some people say that convenience foods are the worst, but I don’t think I’ll ever belittle them after this experience!”

  Latt looked up at her as if she had just recited poetry.

  Terry cleared his throat. “Talking about food makes me hungry! Where did you get this stuff from, anyway, Latt?” – All the while wondering if Latt would be more forthcoming now he was looking and acting in such an animated manner. He leaned on the work surface next to their strange jailer, found that uncomfortable, and settled rather awkwardly on the even lower bench on the far side of it.

  “No, not Latt go.” As Latt’s preoccupation with Ruth was broken, he returned to his food with renewed enthusiasm. “The ‘Controllers’ went back to Earth to get it while you were… sssleeping?” Latt finished hesitantly, after he had devoured several more mouthfuls, aware that he had not used the most appropriate word.

  “You mean ‘unconscious’,” Ruth said, helpfully, thinking ‘comatose’ would be more accurate.

  Latt nodded, appearing excessively pleased that she had provided the correct word.

  “That’s interesting,” Isaac commented. “It didn’t take them very long to do that.”

  Latt did not respond to this, but continued to systematically demolish his meal.

  Ruth sat down next to Terry and leaned back, crossing her legs. She glanced down and noticed that there were several empty boxes of the same TV dinner on the floor under the table. He’s eating like a horse! She decided to try another approach. “How much food did they bring back, anyway?” she asked, casually, as she slid down the bench nearer to Terry, so that she would be opposite their jailer.

  “More than enough for your ssstay here.” He looked up at her, studying her face intently for a full minute, then he scraped the last bits from the plastic plate and sat back, satisfied at last.

  Isaac walked over and put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “I don’t recall you saying when we’d be sent back home…”

  “Back home?” Latt looked up at him strangely. “You have sssix-steen Narlav dayss to sssshow that you can make the device.”

  “That’s not enough,” Isaac stated flatly, though he had no idea how long a Narlav day was.

  “The ‘Controllers’ are not very good at waiting.” Latt got up. He looked at them in turn, a hint of sadness in his expression. “If you do not have it by the end of the time…” He shrugged fatalistically.

  Terry saw that neither Latt nor Isaac was bluffing. He saw his friend’s hand gripping tightly to Ruth’s, his eyes with a hopeless, almost wild look to them.

  A buzzer sounded from Latt’s area, breaking the tension that had developed since the ultimatum had been revealed.

  “Isssaac, you have no other choice;” Latt said, bluntly. He started to move quickly across the laboratory, then he stopped and spoke hurriedly over his shoulder from his position halfway towards the doorway to his own section of the complex. “You mussst do it. For your friend, and for your Ruth.” Then he hurried out, and the door slid down behind him, leaving an ominous silence.

  After a couple of minutes, Isaac walked over to the computer he had been working on before and sat down, folding his legs awkwardly under the low, wide table. He waited while the screen warmed up, then started to s
tudy the language conversion program.

  “I’ll make breakfast,” Ruth offered a touch too brightly. “I suppose no one minds steak – Salisbury steak, that is?”

  “With you cooking it, I’ll eat anything!” Isaac smiled at her over the top of the computer.

  “How do I work this thing?”

  “I’ll show you, just wait a second.” Terry looked over Isaac’s shoulder at the screen, puzzled by the mixture of strange symbols and English text displayed on it. “You’re not really going to make that anti-personnel weapon for them, are you?” he continued in a lower tone.

  “Let’s just say that before I can do anything, I have to know a lot more about the Controllers’ language and their level of technology.” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully a couple of times. “Latt has installed some software to do translation – but it needs more work.”

  “Which will keep you busy for a while.” Terry grinned, simultaneously relieved, reassured and sheepish. Trying to put the experience behind him, realising with chagrin that he was too emotionally charged up to think logically, charged up about his own life, and about that of his friends, especially – if he were brutally honest – Ruth, he walked over and explained the rather unique features of the oven to his best friend, and helped her load it up with food.

  Once the food was in and cooking, Ruth excused herself. “Isaac dragged me out here before I had a chance to do the usual.” She hurried back to her sleeping dome and closed the door.

  Terry wandered around the laboratory, checking out various pieces of equipment and returning to monitor the food from time to time. He found himself looking again at the monitors for the computers on the low tables. They were obviously constructed with cathode ray tubes, much as most visual displays had been on Earth, until Plasma and LCD flat screens had started to supplant them, a few years earlier.

  “Hey, ‘Zac, these look like they were made in Japan, or maybe China. Why so old-tech, do you think?”