Part 70
“Max and Liz will probably be in the helicopter about now,” Philip looked at his watch. He had been giving a commentary of the kid’s likely actions all morning, and annoying as it was, no one stopped him. “In a moment, our children will be face to face with the President of the United States of America.”
“Who’da thunk it?” Jim nodded.
“Our kids,” Jeff agreed. “Face to face with the most powerful man on Earth.” He looked around at the smirking faces. “Well, you know what I mean. Obviously, one on one, Max is way more powerful, but that’s what they say about the president, isn’t it?”
“Yeas, dear,” Nancy smiled.
“You know they’ll leave an indelible mark on him, don’t you?” Diane wore a huge smile. “Who knows what this will do for Forest’s popularity come re-election. Those two could do so much for each other. I bet they end up seeing a whole lot of each other. Max will end up living in the White House or somewhere.”
* * *
“How long till we know that he’s in our custody?” President Forest glanced at his watch, little knowing that the father of the young man that he was hoping to abduct was performing that same action.
“Any minute now, sir,” his aid read from a report in his hand. “The bird has landed and the subjects are approaching.”
“Do you have any idea what this young man represents, Nixon?”
“Not really sir,” Nixon looked away from the report and shook his head. “We already have conclusive proof that there is life out there.”
“But that proof we have is either dead, or unusable. This Max Evans represents its use and our understanding of it. Think of the potential he represents. Think of the benefits he will bring me. Us. Once we have all that technology and power in our hands, there isn’t a country on this planet that we can’t bring to heel. All I would need to do is engineer a threat in one of the communist countries, like say, North Korea. Then, I will send my new Army to war and smash them, totally and utterly. When the rest of the world witnesses the power I control, I can guarantee world peace. If we can replicate their amazing mind reading capabilities, even these terrorist cells will be out of date.”
“But even with re-election, you only have one more term. By the time we have full control of that power, you’ll be handing it to someone else.”
“Are you kidding?” Forest started to laugh. “With that power at my disposal, I will push through legislation abolishing the two-term limit. I will become President for life. And you, my dear friend, will be with me every step of the way.”
“Assuming this Max Evans cooperates.”
“He will,” Forest grinned. “Baurline tells me that he is devoted to his wife. That moron DeLuca sought to control Evans’ power through her. We will do the same. Do you have a mistress, Nixon?”
“She is kind of cute,” Nixon leered at the photograph of the small brunette. “You don’t want her yourself?”
“Not my type,” he shook his head. “I prefer the blond.”
* * *
“Stop Max, at all costs!” the order reverberated through the headsets of the support units Michael had placed hours before the helicopter’s arrival.
Hidden in the foliage, close to the Presidential Helicopter, John H Pettigrew Jr. watched the scene through the telescopic sight of his sniper rifle. He was experiencing a moral dilemma. The man walking toward what sounded like danger was a man he admired. Worse, he was a man who had proved time and time again that he would do whatever he could to ensure the safety of those who followed him. He and his wife owed their lives to him. Max Evans was a man he respected. He admired his lovely wife too, a young woman who, despite the age gap, he had a secret crush on. He would do all he could to protect them, just as they protected him. But the cause of his dilemma was that the man currently in the center of his targeting sight was none other than the President of the United States. What danger could he possibly pose? How could he warn Max without being accused of committing an act of treason? Swallowing hard, the sniper moved his rifle away from Forest, and picked out a spot on the helicopter fuselage. A place away from any vital components, yet one Max would be able to see. Trusting to luck, and the amazing sense of danger that Max was reputed to posses, he squeezed the trigger.
* * *
Max approached the waving president with every nerve in his body screaming at him to turn away. His eyes were never still, scanning the helicopter for any sign that not all was as it seemed. He heard the sound of the rifle even above the roar of the engine and the chopping sound of the rotor. A hole appeared toward the back of the helicopter’s body. Max’s shield was up even before the four men appeared from the interior, firing at them with semi automatic rifles. A green wall surrounded all six of them. Strange darts appeared in his shield, frozen for an instant in mid air, only to fall harmlessly to the floor. Liz looked up at Max, her panic only just under control.
“Back up,” Max ordered
“It was a trap!” Jesse spat. “And I voted for that… that…”
“Just do as Max says,” Isabel ordered, pulling Jesse with her toward the trees. “We can worry about who did what to who and when, later.”
“Max,” Liz grasped her husband’s arm and pointed to the horizon.
Six dark shapes were speeding their way. They were attack helicopters, with additional men hanging from the side.
“Hurry,” Max ordered.
Isabel aimed her hand at the rear rotor blade of the President’s helicopter just as the four gunmen along with the president were leaping from the chassis, pulling pistols from their vests. The smaller rotor disintegrated under her blast. Its counter balance lost, the helicopter started to twist on the ground, the bodywork buckling under the vast pressure. With the metal shrieking in their ears, the men all fell to the ground to protect themselves from flying debris as the rotors twisted and bit into the earth, whipping out of control.
“Through the trees!” Max shouted above the din.
Maintaining his shield, Max hung behind, keeping an eye on the approaching gun-ships, the men on the ground, and the occasional piece of metal that flew their way.
Around him, snipers aimed into the ground in front of the cowering gunmen, keeping them pinned down to allow Max and the other to make their escape.
“Down the embankment,” Max called.
Just into the trees, the ground dipped away in a steep hill. They scrambled down through the underbrush, using branches and small trees as handholds. At the bottom of the hill, Max, Jesse and Eldugar helped the women scramble over a chain-link fence. Clear of the trees, they came upon a road. A silver SUV screeched to a halt a few yards away from them and the side door slid open.
“Inside, inside,” Max ushered them toward the van. “Hurry!”
Once inside, they pulled the doors shut. The SUV was already making its way toward the main road before the doors were closed.
“Good thing you had this backup plan, Max,” Jesse lay on the floor breathing hard.
“It’s not over yet,” Max was watching the sir above them.
“Once we’re in traffic, we’ll be home and dry,” the driver called over his shoulder. He held out a cell phone. “Better call Michael and let him know you’re all okay.”
“Maybe we should call an airline, instead,” Isabel groaned. “Maybe it’s time we left the country.”
* * *
“So everyone got away okay?” Max stared out of the window at the soldiers filing from the helicopters that had just brought them home. “No one got caught up in the aftermath?”
“Clean as a whistle,” Michael nodded.
“I guess Forest must be pretty mad at us,” Max sighed. “I mean, not only did we trash his helicopter, he could have got hurt.”
“He started it,” Michael shrugged. “But it wasn’t him. Apparently, it was someone wearing a latex mask. My money’s on it being Baurline.”
Max looked at Michael and nodded.
“Did any of them get hurt?”
“No,” Michael looked disappointed. “I spoke with Roberts. They all escaped with just a few scratches; though I’m told their kit had to be sent to the laundry. The other helicopters arrived too late to find your escape car. They never even considered that we’d be suspicious of them and have things planned.”
“We’ve learned the hard way,” Max nodded. “Thank you, Michael. And I don’t just mean for your hard work. Thank you for your loyalty, for your support but most of all, for your friendship.”
Michael shifted uneasily. Max continued talking.
“I hope you don’t see yourself as just some subject of mine. You’re my friend, Michael. My best friend. No, you’re my brother. Tied to me by a bond that no one in this universe can comprehend.”
“Not even Liz?” Michael smirked.
Max thought about this for a moment.
“What Liz and I share is… different. Just because I want to spend more time with her doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate our friendship.”
Michael started to squirm.
“Besides,” Max grinned. “She’s more cuddly than you are.”
“So what do we do now?” Michael was desperate to change the subject.
“I’m not sure,” Max exhaled. “I was counting on Forest. Bringing the might of the U.S. in with is… I guess we’re still on our own, though.”
“At the risk of sounding like a cheerleader,” Michael grinned. “If you can’t do it, no one can.”
Max started to laugh.
“Rah, rah, rah.”
“You’ll think of something,” Michael confirmed. “You always do. Maybe you should go and get some rest.”
“Speaking of which,” Max gave his friend a long look. “You’re looking a little haggard yourself, these days.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“No,” Max shook his head. “Seriously. When was the last time you relaxed?”
“I can relax when all this is over.”
“At what cost, Michael? I almost lost Liz a while back because I was trying to do everything myself, remember? Take a break. You are entitled.”
“Anything could go wrong,” Michael shook his head. “I mean, there’s so much to check up on, so many things that need doing.”
“Well,” Max shrugged. “I really hoped that I wouldn’t have to do it this way. I had hoped that as a friend, you’d listen to me. But it looks like I’m gonna have to do this the hard way. Michael. As your king, I command that you take the night off, and enjoy yourself in Maria’s company.”
“Sometimes, I really hate that you’re king,” Michael glared.
* * *
“I wish I could have seen the looks on those guys’ faces when their darts just hung there like that,” Connie was laughing at Isabel’s description of the day’s events. Now that they were all safe and sound, it helped to laugh. “That shield is so awesome, right Liz?”
“Yeah,” Liz nodded, her eyes gazing at the ceiling.
“I swear,” Maria shook her head. “I really thought Michael was gonna explode or something. He was screaming for a fast jet, demanding to know why we didn’t have one.”
“Something like that sure would help,” Isabel agreed.
“So how did Max take it all?” Connie wanted to know.
“Hmm?” Liz looked up. It was clear that she had no idea what they were talking about.
“He was all business and efficiency while it was going on,” Isabel answered for her. “His first priority and concern was for our safety. Once we were safe, he went quiet. I guess he was thinking about things, huh, Liz?”
“Um,” she nodded. “Yeah. You know what, I’m just gonna…”
She pointed absently at the stairs. She rose from her seat and climbed to the bathroom.
“Is she okay?” Isabel looked at Maria. “Is it me, or does she seem really down?”
“It’s not you,” Connie replied. “She seems down to me, too.”
“Its ‘cause she is,” Maria confirmed. “It’s the whole thing going on. Sometimes, she’s too strong, you know?”
“Doesn’t she know that she’s allowed to have a good cry with us? I mean, it’s what friends are for, right?”
“She thinks that because she’s Max’s wife, she’s not allowed to show her fear or worry. Liz wants a normal life with Max as much as Max wants one with her.”
“Even if we beat Kivar,” Isabel sighed. “They won’t get their normal, no matter how badly they want it. Can you see the Antarians…” she nodded at Katya sitting by the door, “letting Max go? Or can you see Max turning his back on them? He’s just too…”
“Responsible?” Maria added.
“That’s when I realized how much everyone pulls together to help,” Connie interrupted.
Isabel and Maria turned to stare at her, wondering what she might be talking about. With a sly nod of her head, Connie told them that Liz was back.
“Talking about pulling things together, am I the only one who realizes how wired, Michael is getting? He really needs to take a break from his own self imposed responsibilities.”
“You know that Max appreciates everything Michael does for him, don’t you, Maria?” Liz sounded as though she wasn’t sure of Maria’s answer.
“Oh, Liz, Honey,” Marie caught the concern in Liz’s voice. “You know that we all know he does. It’s just that Michael’s made it a twenty-four, seven job. I mean, I can’t even remember the last time we…” She started to blush.
“Started to what?” Isabel teased.
“Never mind,” Maria fought to control the color of her face. “Liz? Do you think you could ask Max to, like, order Michael to relax, or something?”
“Of course I will, Maria,” Liz nodded with sincerity. “But there are two problems. One, can you imagine Max ordering anyone to do anything? Two, would Michael even listen?
“I doubt it,” Isabel confirmed both counts. “Which means that maybe we should put our heads together. What chance does someone like Michael have when the women put their minds to things? After all, there’s more than one way to skin a cat.”
“I was not aware that this was a custom on Earth,” Katya called from her sentry point.
“What’s that, Katya?”
“The wearing of cat skin. Does it hold therapeutic properties that will help Michael to relax?”
There was a moment of silence before the four girls erupted into a fit of giggles.
“It’s just an expression,” Liz bit her tongue to stop herself from laughing any more. “What Isabel meant was that there were more ways than one to make Michael do what we want him to, that is, relax.”
“Why didn’t she just say that instead of referring to cats?”
“It’s a human thing,” Liz shrugged, tears stinging her eyes from the pain her tongue was experiencing in her desire to stop her laughter.
* * *
“You look so good in a suit, Max,” Liz sighed from the balcony that led across the door to their bedroom to the stairs.
She looked down at Max who was waiting for her in front of the fire.
Max turned to face her. His jaw dropped.
“Liz,” Max gasped at the intricate dress she wore. It was neither gold, nor red, yet a cunning combination of the two that seemed to shimmer in the light, changing hue with every undulation she made as she descended the open staircase. “You look… Wow. But is it really suitable for where we’re going? It’s just dinner in Stanley.”
“Max,” Liz shook her head. “You should know by now that there is no such thing as ‘just’ dinner for the King and Queen of Antar. I just had to put up with a lecture from Katya about that. We represent all of Antar, even though no one else knows of its existence, and as such, shall not demean ourselves by looking anything other than our best.”
“She really said that?”
“Words to that effect,” Liz shrugged. “She went on much longer. I gave you the edited highlights.”
“I guess that’s why they insisted on the more high class establishment they could find. What happens if we just wanted McDonalds?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Liz looked worried.
Max grinned at her.
“But what about that dress? Liz, as gorgeous as it is, as beautiful as you make it, can we afford it?”
“Probably not,” Liz shook her head. “But as this dress was entirely created by your loyal subjects, just for me, I can’t afford not to wear it.”
“When you put it like that,” Max smiled, giving Liz a chaste kiss. “So,” he continued, “you don’t think we’re taking advantage of our position, do you? I mean, wouldn’t everyone want the chance for some alone time?”
“Yes, Max,” Liz sounded full of exasperation as she straightened his tie. “They are all fine with it. Now come on. Eldugar and Katya are waiting in the Limo.”
“Why do I feel like I’m getting all this special treatment?”
“’Cause like it or not, Max,” Liz grinned as Max helped her into her thick coat, “you ‘are’ special.”
Holding hands, they stepped out into the cold night air. As they walked with care along the cleared pathway, neither of them saw the dark figure slip into their cabin.
* * *
Michael paced across the living room with his mind awash with military tactics. He was recounting everything he had ever seen in those battlefield epics he had so loved to watch, hoping that just one plot might give him the inspiration, and the tactics to defeat Kivar. He doubted that a full-blooded charge, faces painted in blue wode a la Braveheart would do the trick, but there might be some lessons to learn from Wallace. Other than how to lose.
“We could lure him into a trap,” he looked at Maria who had her head buried in a magazine. "We could get Tallen to shapeshift into Max again, and have him lead his forces into a canyon or something.”
“Why not just let Max do that?” Maria looked up.
“No way,” Michael shook his head. “I am not letting Max get anywhere near Kivar.”
“You’re not…” Maria gaped. “Michael? Which Max are you talking about?”
A knock on the door prevented Michael from answering. He crossed to the door, pulling it open and standing back to let the caller in.
“I’ve been asked that you accompany me to Max’s cabin,” the guard informed him.
“Are you sure?” Michael looked at his watch. “Wait. Something’s happened, hasn’t it?”
Michael started to move for the door.
“No,” the guard stopped him. “As far as I am aware, nothing has happened. I was merely asked to request that you come with me. That’s all.”
“Is it all right if I come too?” Maria placed her magazine on the table. “I want to talk to Liz, and as Michael will be with Max, it’s not like I’ll be intruding on the down time.”
“Knock yourself out,” Michael threw her coat to her.
* * *
“So, the plan all along was to get me out of the way so that Maria could lure Michael to our cabin for some alone time of their own?” Max shook his head after Liz had explained the plan.
“You say that like you don’t appreciate being here with me,” Liz frowned.
“No way,” Max smiled. “I always appreciate you and any time I get to spend with you. No, I’m a little put out that you didn’t let me in on the secret. I could have helped, especially as I even ordered Michael to spend some quality time with Maria.”
“You ordered Michael?” Liz looked amazed. “And he listened?”
“I suspect that I would have had to charge Michael with treason,” he smirked. “What do you think?”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “You’re probably right.”
“Are you okay, Liz?” Max asked after looking at her for a moment. “You’ve seem awfully quiet, lately.”
“No,” she smiled. “I’m fine.”
“Liz,” Max admonished. “You know that you can’t hide anything from me through our connection. Now, what’s bothering you?”
“The end of the world,” Liz sighed. “No matter how far we run, or how hard we try… Max. I almost destroyed our relationship to prevent that. And still it keeps coming back to haunt me. It’s like… even after everything, I have still made the wrong choice.”
“Is that how you feel?” Max felt a heavy sensation in the pit of his stomach. “That you and me… is a mistake?”
“No,” Liz shook her head. “Never, Max. It’s like you said. We’ll take the short time we have and live whole lifetimes. And we are. Living, I mean. It’s just…” She raised her hands and dropped them in frustration. “We were counting on support from Forest, weren’t we? Only he’s just as bad as Kivar. What are we going to do, Max?”
Max watched her for a moment, basking in the beauty of the candlelight reflecting from her complexion.
“I have the beginnings of an idea, Liz,” Max admitted. “I’ve been tinkering with it a little, trying to make it better. I want to know what you think of it.”
* * *
“Hey, Isabel,” Kyle greeted her when he found her heading through the darkened path toward the diner. “What are you doing out this late?”
“Probably the same as you,” she grinned. “Snack run.”
“So how come Jesse isn’t doing this for you?”
“Jesse’s on the phone to Glen McCarthy,” Isabel’s smile faded. “Glen’s really upset about what happened. He’s afraid that Max will think he had something to do with Forest’s attempt to snatch Max.”
“What do you think?”
“I think he’s okay,” Isabel replied after a moment to think about it. “I mean, he knew where we were. He could have tried to grab Max at any time. If Glen was in on it, then he would have known about the men who follow Max, and been able to anticipate that Max might not be going in with his eyes closed.”
“Yeah,” Kyle nodded.
“So, how are you and Connie getting on?”
“Oh,” Kyle smiled. “Just great.”
“It’s funny how things turned out, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Kyle smiled.
“You know,” Isabel hesitated before continuing. “I’ve often wondered if the others ever thought that you and I might seek solace in each other’s arms, and end up together.”
“I’m really glad that you and Jesse hooked up again, Isabel,” Kyle smiled. “But you know, if I had never met Connie, and things between you and Jesse never worked out… you know, linking me to you like that, well, it’s an honor, Isabel.”
The two of them finished their journey in silence. Isabel was glad that the dark night hid the tears that were stinging her eyes.
* * *
“If you would wait here,” the guard pointed Michael and Maria to the sofa, “you’ll be seen in a moment.”
“Is it me,” Michael frowned, “or is Max getting a little…”
“Relax,” Maria dropped herself onto the sofa. “He’s probably busy.”
“He’s probably…”
“Michael,” Maria warned.
They fell silent again.
“You know,” Maria broke the silence. “I think it’s great that you look out for Max with such dedication, but it’s time you took a leaf from his book and learned that you can’t do it all by yourself. Let the guards protect Max and Liz from time to time and look after yourself for a change. You have a life too, Michael. Max would want you to live it. I want you to live it. I wish you wanted to live it, too.”
“I do, Maria,” Michael nodded. “With you.”
“God,” Maria rolled her eyes. “You are spending too much time with Max. You’re even starting to sound like him.”
“You have a problem with that?”
“No,” Maria grinned. “Not if it comes with any of the benefits Liz gets.”
“How much longer are they going to be?” Michael huffed with impatience. “Maybe we can get back, and… you know.”
“I’ll go and see,” Maria rolled her eyes. “You wait there.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Michael demanded reaching to grab her.
“Look,” Maria evaded his grasp. “If they are otherwise engaged, then Max is less likely to blast me than Liz is to blast you.”
She hurried up the stairs. Twenty minutes later, Michael was wondering where Maria was and if someone had blasted her. He was just considering following her when the lights went out. The room was suddenly bathed in the soft glow of dozens of candles. Stringed instruments played the intro to a Sinatra number. The door opened, and Maria stepped out onto the balcony. She wore a diaphanous, rose colored negligee, white high-heeled shoes and little else. Even in the low light, Michael could see the dark shadows of her intimate areas. He swallowed hard.
“Fly me to the moon,” Maria sang, swaying her body erotically as she danced with the banister.
“And let me play among the stars.”
Maria started to move toward the stairs as she serenaded Michael.
“Let me see what spring is like, on Jupiter and Mars.”
Michael was not unaffected. From his seated position on the sofa, he shifted, trying to make himself more comfortable with his growing hardness. Maria continued to dance on the balcony, a pirouette exposing a glimpse of her treasures.
“In other words, hold my hand,” Maria extended a hand.
“In other words,” she kissed her hand and blew it to Michael, “darling kiss me.”
With the music still playing, Maria started to sway down the stairs.
“Fill my life with song, and let me sing forever more,”
The steps disappeared as Maria stepped down them, her naked thighs exposed with each step.
“You are all I hope for, all I worship and adore.”
Maria reached the floor, and crossed the room to stand behind the sofa.
“In other words, please be true,” she sang from behind Michael.
“In other words,” she slid herself onto the sofa and into Michael’s arms.
“I love you.”
And Maria showed him how much.
* * *
“So, what do you think?” Max looked worried after he had explained everything to Liz.
“As plans go, Max,” Liz exhaled, “this is possibly your most ambitious ever.”
“Yeah,” Max agreed. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“But there’s so much that could go wrong.”
“Okay, the plan needs adjustment. But what about the concept? What do you think?”
“But are you sure? What if… What if they don’t react in the way you hope? Even our life now would be better than what that would mean.”
“Liz,” Max sighed. “Kivar is coming. You heard it at the meeting. We don’t have the strength to defeat him, even with the men Mantick and Serena have assembling at the Pod Chamber. He’s going to win, Liz. I have to do something. But it doesn’t have to be this. If you don’t like it, we’ll just have to think of something else.”
“No, Max,” Liz shook her head. “I don’t think that the plan is bad, per se. I’m just… I’m afraid of what it will mean for you. For us.”
“Nothing will come between us Liz, if that’s what you’re worried about. Nothing. I just won’t let it. You said we were in this together, for the long haul.”
“Okay,” she nodded. “Let’s see if between us, we can improve this plan of yours. I don’t want anyone getting hurt unnecessarily.”
“Me neither, Liz. It has to be foolproof.”
“Better leave Kyle out of it then, huh?”
“Yeah,” Max nodded with a grin.
They started to laugh. Max smiled inwardly at knowledge that the strong, confident Liz was back.
* * *
Blue Remembered Hills (M&L CC, Child) (Complete)
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Page 71
As Kivar’s ship continued its journey, speeding its way through the cosmos toward Earth, things on the distant planet were starting to develop. Earlier than expected by the approaching aliens, and thanks mainly to an astonishing breakthrough in human technology, a new deep space detection device belonging to SETI and known as ‘Deep Scan’ picked up echoes that suggested something large, and solid was heading for them. Every other scanning gadget was aimed for the source of this new echo, yet nothing else detected it. Still, the new detector monitored the object’s steady progress.
“Perhaps it’s a ghost,” someone suggested. “You know, an echo of an old radio wave from some previous space mission.”
“Not at the speed it’s travelling at,” another shook his head. “Or the size it seems to be.”
“Meteorite?” another wondered. “We’ve been having a lot of those lately.”
“Too fast to be a meteorite,” someone confirmed. “And too slow for radio waves.”
“Plot its trajectory,” a leading scientist suggested. He thought for a moment. “And if it’s on a collision course, plot where it will hit.”
Computer disks whirred into action as calculations were plugged into the CPUs. Numbers and letters were called out to one another as a hive of worker bees scurried about their task, data being their pollen.
“Collision predicted,” one man called out, proud that he was the first.
“Location?” the head scientist requested.
“I don’t believe this,” the man shook his head. “The American mid-west… again.”
Accompanied only by the steady hums of machinery, the room went silent.
“Gentlemen,” the senior scientist drew a deep breath. “I think that this ‘Ghost’ is what we have been both fearing and hoping for all these years now. I think we will soon be making… contact. I think this is an approaching space ship of extra terrestrial origin.”
He waited for a moment, allowing his colleagues to absorb the moment. Then, he started to bark orders as he followed a well-established protocol that no one had ever had reason to follow before. Those not performing any set task ran for spare telephones. At his computer console, Reggie Curtis watched the approaching echoes. He could not help his mind drifting to a certain ‘angel’ who had so dramatically changed his life two Christmases ago. He wondered if this had anything to do with him.
“Look at them,” a voice interrupted him.
“Who?” Reggie looked up.
“Them,” the man indicated the people on the phone by pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “They’re all calling their paymasters. In a matter of moments, the White House, the Kremlin, whatever they call it in China, Downing Street, practically the whole world will know about this ship. Heck, I bet one or two of ‘ems even on the phone to the press.”
“Every man dances to a different tune,” Reggie shrugged.
“All this fuss, and I bet that damned thing really is a ghost,” the man chuckled.
Reggie nodded, rose from his seat and reached for a phone on the next desk.
“So who are you going to call?” the man wondered out loud.
Reggie punched out a memorized number.
“Ghostbusters.”
* * *
“Ah, Glen,” President Forest waved the senator in and indicated the seat in front of his desk.
Glen McCarthy tried hard not to look like a tourist as he entered the president’s famous office.
“You sent for me, Mr. President?” Glen took the offered seat.
“Yes,” he nodded. “Can I offer you anything? Coffee? Tea?”
“No,” Glen shook his head. “Thank you.”
“Bourbon, perhaps?” the President lifted a cut crystal decanter.
Glenn shook his head while Forest poured out a generous measure into a matching crystal glass. He sat down in his plush leather chair and took a deep draught of the fiery liquid.
“I received some disturbing news this morning,” the President spoke at last.
“Oh?” Glen raised one eyebrow.
“It seems that SETI have detected an… a presence in deep space. Heading on an intercept path with us, apparently.”
“I see,” Glen nodded. “Another meteorite? We seem to have had an awful lot of those, lately.”
The president cast Glen a long, hard look.
“It’s not a meteorite,” Forest took another sip. “The best brains have all concluded that the speed at which it is travelling suggests that it can only be a… ship.”
“So…” Glen continued nodding. “What exactly does this have to do with me?”
Forest detected not only the coolness in Glen’s demeanor, but also the lack of surprise at the news Forest had just imparted. Forest decided to come straight to the point.
“What are your political aspirations, Glen?” the president suddenly asked. “As you know, I’m coming up for re-election, and, well, my advisors tell me I need to get with the public and have a younger man as my vice president.”
“And?” Glen frowned.
“I like you, Glen,” Forest smiled. “And I think that you and I would make a great team. And of course, you do realize that the V P would be a certain shoo-in come the election after next when I’m not allowed to stand again.”
“You want me?” Glen’s jaw dropped. “Why?”
“Like I said,” Forest shrugged. “I like you.”
“I’m sensing a catch here,”
The president watched Glen closely.
“I need Max Evans,” Forest continued. “I suspect that he knows about this… visitor and can advise me as to its intentions. Are they hostile, or friendly? I need the power he posseses.”
“Forgive me for being a little bewildered here, sir, but didn’t I already arrange a meeting between the two of you?”
“You did,” Forest agreed. “He seemed to have misunderstood the situation. It appears that he thought my advance security were somehow trying to capture him.”
“Really. I wonder why?”
“You have to understand my position. There’s more at stake here than just the liberty of a few teenagers. Lives are at stake. I have to consider the lives of the country’s population as a whole, heck, perhaps even the planet and not just a handful of teens. I need the power that this boy controls, and I can’t risk having it running around the country, ‘our’ country, like a loose canon. It needs to be… directed.”
“And you think you are the one to do the directing?”
“With guidance from certain personal,” Forest nodded. “Such as my vice president.”
“So the deal, as I understand it, is the offer of V P and a future shot at the White House in return for betraying a sincere young man and his friends.”
“In this game, McCarthy,” Forest took a deep breath, “you’re either for us, or you’re against us. What’s it going to be?”
“Mr. President,” Glen rose from the seat. “I think you might have a better chance of playing golf with Elvis than you have of ever getting the opportunity to… control Max Evans. Neither do I think you stand a chance of facing whatever is on that ship without his co-operation. I don’t think that you fully realize just where you have placed yourself. The words ‘rock’ and ‘hard place’ come to mind. I’ll see myself out.”
* * *
* * *
“Sir,” an adjutant approached Kivar and handed him a smooth sheet of silver metal. “This has just come from forward scanning.”
“What is it?” Kivar reached for the report.
“We’ve detected some radio type waves bouncing off of us.”
“And?” Kivar failed to understand.
“It seems they know we’re on the way,” the man told him. “The Earthlings have detected our approach.”
“I doubt that need concern us,” Kivar shrugged. “No doubt the Nyelda has already informed Zan of our approach.”
“The Human government posses weapons that might be able to reach us when we are closer. Ava suggested that they are a warlike race.”
“Make the shield ready for deployment at a seconds notice,” Kivar ordered. “While that’s up, then there is nothing made from earthly material that can pass. When we get there, we’ll keep out of range of the weapons the Nyelda was likely carrying. I’m sure Zan would have made arrangements to have them transported to Earth. Call my commanders. It’s time to discuss our strategy.”
“Of course, Excellency,” the adjutant nodded. “But if you forgive my forwardness, what’s to discuss? We all know that shuttles have been flying to Earth and back from the Nyelda. It’s obvious that Zan and his forces have been fleeing the planet. I have no doubt that he seeks to flee to Antar and join forces with Larek. Lord Stepanas has already cleared his lands of our forces, and even now marches toward Talluvia.”
“As it happens,” Kivar smiled, “my commanders agree with your appraisal. They too believe that. And as worrying as that sounds, once we have forces on Earth, I believe we can force the… ex-King to return and face me.”
“And be destroyed,” the adjutant grinned.
“One would certainly hope so.”
“We have heard of Nikolas’s defeat, Excellency,” he continued. “The army you have so painstakingly planted over the past years will not now be there for us.”
“Once I have a dozen or so drop ships on the surface, we will be in a strong enough position to… reanimate them. I know the location of the four remaining stones. I’m sure we can fabricate a fifth.”
“Is the conquest of the earth really necessary?”
“I know how the soldiers talk,” Kivar confirmed. “I know they say that things are turning out bad. But we will not return to Antar while Zan still lives. With his death dies the rebellion.”
“What of his heir?”
“I have heard nothing from my daughter,” Kivar shook his head. “I must assume that she has failed me once again.”
“It is rumored that your treatment of her upon her return might have forced her to reconcile with Zan, and even now sides with him against you.”
“I doubt it,” Kivar shook his head. “I believe Zan has killed her. Which is another reason for me to see Zan dead. And that is why I will call for a simple plan.”
“Which is?”
“Total Annihilation,” Kivar shrugged.
“Where will we start?” the man grinned.
“Where else?” Kivar stabbed his finger onto a large map. It pointed to a large expanse of yellow and brown. “Roswell.”
* * *
“The soldiers all seem a little more jumpy than usual,” Kyle observed from the window of the diner.
They were all sitting around a large table, hardly eating their breakfast before them. Outside in the square, the latest batch of soldiers to leave the compound were mounting the helicopters. Already, a slow but steady stream of the non-combatants – such as the families – were leaving the camp in their heavy laden cars.
“They still have the look of determination, though,” Michael observed. He turned to Max. “They won’t let you down.”
“Us, Michael,” Max reminded him. “They won’t let us down.”
“Us,” Michael nodded.
“So, what? This is the third batch?” Connie screwed her lips as she tried to remember the coming and goings.
“Third,” Isabel nodded.
“When do we make our move, Max?” Jesse asked.
“We’re next,” Max looked at his watch. “Did you warn Glen?”
“I did,” Jesse nodded. “He told me that Forest tried to cut a deal, by the way. Trade you for a spot on his staff. V P.”
“Wow,” Maria raised her eyebrows. “And he turned it down?”
“Glen’s a good one,” Jesse confirmed. “I’d like to see him take a shot at the presidency.”
“Is it too late for him to start running?” Max wondered. “I could work with him as president.”
“Not yet,” Jesse shook his head. “And once he does, he’s going to have to compete with whoever the ex-president’s wife backs.”
“Maybe we can persuade her to back Glen,” Liz grinned. “She’d love to be in the spotlight beside Max. It’s the kind of photo opportunity she lives for.”
“I’m kinda hoping there won’t be any spotlights on me.”
“Get real, Max,” Connie grinned. “That light’s been on you since the day you declared to the universe how much you loved Liz.”
“So did Glen agree?” Max turned the subject around again.
“He did,” Jesse smirked at Max’s neat maneuver. “He’s going to ground, just like you suggested. He’ll meet up with us when it’s all over.”
“Good,” Max nodded. “I don’t want anyone not involved with this to get caught up in the fallout.”
At last, the helicopters returned. With their kit bags, packed with the possessions that they would need for their part in the operation, Max and his friends filed out of diner and toward one of the empty choppers. They were intercepted by Mr. Anderson and his daughter, Peggy.
“So you’re leaving us, Max,” he looked disappointed.
“Afraid so,” Max nodded. “We, uh… have things to do.”
“Another battle coming up, huh?” Mr. Anderson understood. “But you aren’t planning on using my camp as a base this time?”
“No,” Max shook his head. “I’m afraid that after this one, it won’t be safe for you or Peggy for us to be here.”
“That bad, huh?”
“That bad,” Michael confirmed.
“You ever gonna come back?”
“Sure we will,” Max nodded, but his eyes showed that he doubted the truth of those words.
“Well, you take care,” he shook Max’s hand. “And look after this lovely wife of yours.”
“I will,” he nodded as his friend hugged Liz.
The good byes were emotional, especially when Peggy said her good byes to Max. At last, they were over, and the climbed into to the aircraft. The Helicopter lifted up and circled around the camp to give everyone the last view of what had been their home for so long before it sped away above the treetops. No one spoke, not even Kyle.
* * *
“You gotta love that Langley,” Kyle looked at the private jet that had become almost personal property for Max and Liz.
“You can try,” Max smirked.
“I get on with him,” Liz shrugged.
“You get on with everyone,” Jesse pointed out. “Actually, going back to what we were discussing earlier, you would make an awesome first lady. Care to stand, Max?”
“We have enough problems with being who we are,” Liz rolled her eyes. “Let’s not add more pressure, shall we?”
“Cool paint job,” Michael commented, indicating the tail of the small jet. “Wasn’t it plain white before?”
“Yeah,” Max nodded. “That’s new.”
“See what it is?”
“Oh my god,” Liz exclaimed. “Max, it’s…”
“Our seals,” Max added. “Superimposed over one another.”
“Over the top of the whirlwind symbol,” Isabel finished.
“I guess that’s one thing we needn’t worry about what,” Maria added.
“Excuse me?”
Everyone turned to face her, confusion evident on everyone’s face.
“That whirlwind symbol,” Maria pointed. “It was like a quest or something, wasn’t it? Something about preventing time from repeating itself? Well, I’m guessing that Liz has done that. Max has married the right girl, and no one is betraying him. I think that this really will all end up okay.”
“If we can get past this,” Max indicated that they should board the plane. “We have a schedule to keep.”
* * *
When the plane landed at the small private airport, it taxied into a large hanger on the far side, out of the way of the other travelers. Inside the hanger, four taxi cabs, chauffeured by Max’s men waited for them.
“Remember,” Max reminded them as they loaded their luggage into the cabs. “In public, we do not know each other. So no recognition, okay? Maria? If you have to have a girl to girl chat, you have to find someone else. This is too important, okay?”
“You say it like I can’t live without Liz,” Maria complained. “I don’t run to her with every little problem.”
“Whatever,” Isabel rolled her eyes and climbed into her cab with Jesse.
“Stay off the phones!” Max called out. “Except in an emergency.”
The rest said goodbye and climbed into their cabs. The vehicles left the hangers, taking different directions to leave the airport.
“Will they be okay, do you think?” Liz looked out through the back window at the other cabs.”
“They’re all grown up,” Max grinned. “It was time to fly the nest.”
“That’s meant to comfort me?” Liz gave him a heated look.
“They’ll be fine,” he nodded. “It’s only for one night. Besides, we’ll see them again this evening.”
At the motel, Max and Liz checked in as Mr. and Mrs. King. Jesse and Isabel had taken the name, Law; Kyle and Connie were using Constable while Michael and Maria had taken the name, Spacey. Once they had settled, the young couple walked hand in hand across the busy road to the diner, where they tried to eat their lunch. Both were too apprehensive over their forth-coming adventure. They returned to their room where they showered and dressed, waiting for the call that would summon them to their briefing meeting. Although they exchanged kisses in an attempt to bolster one another’s confidence, their mood was too subdued to move beyond heavy petting. At long last, the knock on the door told them that it was time.
“Mr. and Mrs. King?” the taxi driver inquired when Max opened the door.
This time, it was not one of Max’s followers, but an ordinary driver. As ordinary as you could get in this city, that is.
“Yeah,” Max nodded.
The driver followed Max’s directions, and dropped him and Liz outside a busy shopping mall.
“This would have been hell for Maria,” Liz laughed as she ran with Max in one entrance, through the mall’s heart and out the other side.
After a quick glance to see if they had been followed, they boarded a bus. Twenty minutes later, they entered an old theater in the heart of a run down district. Rented by a Hollywood casting agency, their cover was that they, along with dozens of others, were here to read for a part in an upcoming film. Outside, a group of Max’s Antarians guard were making sure that not only would they not be interrupted, they would not be listened to by whatever listening devices might be aimed in their direction by curious authorities. One thing they all feared, especially in this city, were the up to date counter terrorism procedures that had been put in place.
Small groups of people had been arriving in a slow but steady stream for the past hour. Max and Liz were among the last. When Michael spotted their safe arrival, it was like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
“They’re still looking nervous,” Max observed from his seat on the stage he had taken,
“Briefings are always like this, Max,” Armstead tried to placate him. “As soon as we hit zero hour, they’ll be fine.”
Max nodded, but Liz could tell that he was not convinced. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.
* * *
“Gentlemen,” Armstead called the briefing to order. “Ladies. Let’s get on.”
The buzz of conversation ended as everyone took their places in the scruffy red velour seats. He had their complete attention as years of training took over.
“It’s been quite a ride, hasn’t it?”
He paused while everyone nodded, giving him their agreement.
“I remember when I was first approached about this rather secret army of ours,” Armstead reminisced. “I had always suspected that life forms existed on another planet other than our own. “And I was always suspicious of their intentions. So to be asked to help lead a task force dedicated to resist any invasion attempts, I was only too pleased to accept. I never… ever… considered that in order to resist this invasion, I would be lead by a young man fresh out of high school who was actually a life form from one of those planets.”
There were murmurs as they all agreed with him.
“But Max has been the real deal. A great leader. Someone we have come to respect and, dare I say it, love.”
Heads nodded in the audience.
“And now he leads us in another venture, only this one is different than any we have performed before. Sure, we have trained for something like this, but we always hoped that we would never use those skills. If we all do our jobs the way we were trained, then we shall achieve total surprise, and there will be no need for gunfire. We know how this enemy thinks, how this enemy acts. Only, they are not really our enemy. They are merely our adversaries this day. They have their job to do, and part of that job will be to stop us from doing what we have to do.”
Armstead paused to let the men consider this.
“We didn’t want to do this, but Forest’s recent attempts to abduct Max has forced our hand. This is the only way that we can get the help and support we need. It’s all or nothing, gentlemen. If we succeed, then we might have a chance when we face this Kivar. If we fail… well, it won’t matter. Max knows that what he is asking of you goes against everything you have ever sworn to uphold. Against ever tenet of your faith and belief in our way of life. So, if you really cannot bring yourself to do this, then now is the time to leave. Neither Max, nor me, nor even you yourself will think any the less of you. You have all performed admirably and will always hold our respect. If your conscience will not allow you to take this next step, then now is the time to leave.”
No one moved. No one even looked like they had considered moving.
“Thank you,” Armstead grinned. “I give you Max Evans.”
The applause was as thunderous as the hundred or so soldiers could make. Max had to wait five minutes for his audience to settle. Without a shadow of a doubt, the men were one hundred percent behind him. When Max took his place at the podium, he had the bearing of his birthright. Max was every inch a king.
“Thank you,” Max grinned. He waited for them to settle down. “As you know, I had hoped that my meeting with Forest would bring about recognition of what we have done. That he would bring the might of the US forces on our side. But, as we have since discovered… his, uh... blinkered view of power has made him… blind to the realities of the situation. Even now, while the world is on the verge of panic over the rumors of the approaching UFO, he still plots to capture me. So, we need this avenue. There’s only one way we can get help, without the threat of me ending in one of his labs. We need help if we are to protect the world’s population. I know how many of you secretly feel about this, and I appreciate that you are so determined to see this through with us. Thank you. So, with that in mind, here is how we’re going to do it.”
Michael and Kyle rose behind Max and pulled down a huge, rolled map of the well known city, with one of the most famous buildings in the word at its center. Many in the audience shook their heads, even though they had known all along what their target would be.
* * *
Jim Valenti entered the Crashdown café, dressed in his deputy sheriff’s uniform, holding his thermos flask against his chest to protect it from the crush of patrons that had gathered in the diner. He couldn’t even hear the bell that chimed above the door, because of the noise generated by the customers.
“Pretty busy,” Jim grinned at him Jeff, working hard behind the counter.
“It’s just not fair,” Jeff grinned back. “I work hard all these years praying for something like this, you know, to boost trade, and when it does happen, it’s at a time I really don’t want it.”
“Them’s the breaks,” Jim winked. “Have the media been in yet? It’s a veritable circus out there, interviewing anyone and everyone who knew Max, Liz and the others. Good thing is, everyone’s closing up and just saying that Max was this normal, upstanding guy who was madly in love with Liz for just about ever. National Inquirer offered big bucks to any girl who had any kiss and tell stories about them. I’m told the reporter still sports Pam Troy’s palm print where she hit him so hard.”
“Good for her,” Jeff started to chuckle. “To think that Liz never liked the girl.”
“Any idea why?”
“Nope. Clash of personalities, I guess.”
“Have they been in to see you, yet?”
“Yeah,” Jeff frowned. “They were in earlier, asking about how my daughter got caught up with an alien, what traits Max ever showed that proved he was an alien, that sort of thing. I think they’re trying to make him out to be some kind of ogre or something.”
“I can’t believe that so many people crawled out of the woodwork.”
“They’re fawning all over the press with their own stories,” Jeff agreed. “Which is good, ‘cause it’s keeping them off of our back.”
“And there are so many different factions, too.”
“Tell me about it,” Jeff shook his head and pointed to the far corner. “Over there, we have the freaks an nut cases who are claiming to be off spring from alien births, or abductees from the past.” He pointed to another group, looking more smug than the first. “That lot are the ones who haven’t stopped saying ‘I told you so.’”
Jim looked across at the group, wearing t-shirts with slogans like ‘See!”, ‘Proven!’, ‘Vindicated’ and ‘All those years, all those lies.’”
“They’re gonna be pains in the ass,” he shook his head.
“They’re not the worst though,” Jeff nodded at still another group. “Religious
fruit cakes, claiming that it’s not a UFO on the way, but the second coming of the messiah. When Kivar gets here, this lot want to damn well worship him.”
“Jim!” they heard someone call. “Jim!”
Both men turned to face the crowd. A small, stocky man scurried from the door toward them.
“Well, well, well,” Jim smiled. “Milton Ross. Haven’t seen you in an age.”
“Is it true?” Milton grabbed Jim’s arm. “Is it true that Max Evans was an alien all along? Damn. I stood this close to him and never saw the signs.”
“There were no signs to see, Milton,” Jim shook his head. “Max Evans is human. These freaks are confused.”
“He could have told me,” Milton ignored him. “I employed him, for Christ’s sake. Me. I had a real live alien working for me all the time. I never should have sold out to that Englishman. God, they’re so… sneaky.”
“Milton,” Jim interrupted him.
“And you, Jeff,” Milton turned to face him. “How many times did we do business. And you never told me your girl was dating an alien. Wait. Can she do that? Isn’t that, like, I don’t know, unbiological or something.”
“Milton,” Jim called a little louder. “Jeff’s kind of busy right now, and it’s not a good time to go suggesting things about his baby girl. How about if you come back later when he’s less busy and we talk then.”
“You’ll tell me the truth?”
“As we see it,” Jim nodded.
“What’ll you tell him?” Jeff asked as Milton scurried away to add to the growing tales of Max Evans and his alien heritage.
“How he’s suffering from the same hysteria the rest of them are,” Jim shrugged. “Maybe Philip will come up with some legal argument. A subpoena or something. Talking of which, I can’t find them. The Evans. Their house is locked up as tight as the lab we found in that garage.”
“Philips out back,” Jeff turned and nodded at the kitchen.
Jim started to laugh at the sight of Philip wearing a bandana and apron as he worked the grill. Philip nodded to him, but cast a glare that suggested Jim might prefer not to make any comments.
“Wait till you see my waitresses,” Jeff grinned.
Jim scanned the café interior. He had to do a double take when he saw not only Nancy, but Diane and Amy dressed in the turquoise outfits, with silver alien head aprons and antennae bobbing over their heads.
“Not as cute as the other waitresses that used to work here,” Jeff continued, “but I think you’ll agree, each one of them holds something attractive to each one of us.”
“I’ll say,” Jim winked. “Does Amy get to bring the uniform home?”
“It can be arranged,” Jeff winked.
“As were all here,” Philip appeared beside Jim, pulling the bandana from his head, “can I suggest a quick meeting upstairs?”
“So what’s going on?” Amy demanded as she watched Philip walk to the window and peer outside.
“I hope it’s about Liz, Max and the others,” Nancy nodded at Amy. “I mean, we have heard so little from them. They don’t even answer their phones any more.”
“Why is Max keeping us out of the loop?” Diane called to Philip.
“And what is so interesting outside?” Jim added.
“They are,” Philip nodded out the window.
They all joined Philip and looked outside. Standing by the UFO center were two men dressed in alien memorabilia, yet they did not look like a typical X-File fan.
“FBI,” Jim nodded.
“I think it might be secret service,” Philip disagreed.
“Secret Service? Are they hoping Max will show up here or something?”
“I think Max has kept us out of the loop this time for good reason. I think he wants to keep us completely innocent of whatever it is he is up to.”
“You know, though, don’t you,” Amy was the first to realize this.
Five expectant faces looked at Philip.
“No,” he shook his head. “I don’t know for a fact, but I think I can guess.”
“Well, are you going to tell us?” Diane demanded.
“Or do we have to beat it out of you,” Nancy finished.
“It’s like this. Max needs Forest, right? Only Forest wouldn’t play ball. So if the mountain won’t come to Mohammed, then Mohammed must do something else to see the mountain.”
“Stop talking in riddles!” Jeff barked.
“I think…” Philip’s voice wavered. “I think Max is going to try to kidnap the president of the United States of America.”
* * *
As Kivar’s ship continued its journey, speeding its way through the cosmos toward Earth, things on the distant planet were starting to develop. Earlier than expected by the approaching aliens, and thanks mainly to an astonishing breakthrough in human technology, a new deep space detection device belonging to SETI and known as ‘Deep Scan’ picked up echoes that suggested something large, and solid was heading for them. Every other scanning gadget was aimed for the source of this new echo, yet nothing else detected it. Still, the new detector monitored the object’s steady progress.
“Perhaps it’s a ghost,” someone suggested. “You know, an echo of an old radio wave from some previous space mission.”
“Not at the speed it’s travelling at,” another shook his head. “Or the size it seems to be.”
“Meteorite?” another wondered. “We’ve been having a lot of those lately.”
“Too fast to be a meteorite,” someone confirmed. “And too slow for radio waves.”
“Plot its trajectory,” a leading scientist suggested. He thought for a moment. “And if it’s on a collision course, plot where it will hit.”
Computer disks whirred into action as calculations were plugged into the CPUs. Numbers and letters were called out to one another as a hive of worker bees scurried about their task, data being their pollen.
“Collision predicted,” one man called out, proud that he was the first.
“Location?” the head scientist requested.
“I don’t believe this,” the man shook his head. “The American mid-west… again.”
Accompanied only by the steady hums of machinery, the room went silent.
“Gentlemen,” the senior scientist drew a deep breath. “I think that this ‘Ghost’ is what we have been both fearing and hoping for all these years now. I think we will soon be making… contact. I think this is an approaching space ship of extra terrestrial origin.”
He waited for a moment, allowing his colleagues to absorb the moment. Then, he started to bark orders as he followed a well-established protocol that no one had ever had reason to follow before. Those not performing any set task ran for spare telephones. At his computer console, Reggie Curtis watched the approaching echoes. He could not help his mind drifting to a certain ‘angel’ who had so dramatically changed his life two Christmases ago. He wondered if this had anything to do with him.
“Look at them,” a voice interrupted him.
“Who?” Reggie looked up.
“Them,” the man indicated the people on the phone by pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “They’re all calling their paymasters. In a matter of moments, the White House, the Kremlin, whatever they call it in China, Downing Street, practically the whole world will know about this ship. Heck, I bet one or two of ‘ems even on the phone to the press.”
“Every man dances to a different tune,” Reggie shrugged.
“All this fuss, and I bet that damned thing really is a ghost,” the man chuckled.
Reggie nodded, rose from his seat and reached for a phone on the next desk.
“So who are you going to call?” the man wondered out loud.
Reggie punched out a memorized number.
“Ghostbusters.”
* * *
“Ah, Glen,” President Forest waved the senator in and indicated the seat in front of his desk.
Glen McCarthy tried hard not to look like a tourist as he entered the president’s famous office.
“You sent for me, Mr. President?” Glen took the offered seat.
“Yes,” he nodded. “Can I offer you anything? Coffee? Tea?”
“No,” Glen shook his head. “Thank you.”
“Bourbon, perhaps?” the President lifted a cut crystal decanter.
Glenn shook his head while Forest poured out a generous measure into a matching crystal glass. He sat down in his plush leather chair and took a deep draught of the fiery liquid.
“I received some disturbing news this morning,” the President spoke at last.
“Oh?” Glen raised one eyebrow.
“It seems that SETI have detected an… a presence in deep space. Heading on an intercept path with us, apparently.”
“I see,” Glen nodded. “Another meteorite? We seem to have had an awful lot of those, lately.”
The president cast Glen a long, hard look.
“It’s not a meteorite,” Forest took another sip. “The best brains have all concluded that the speed at which it is travelling suggests that it can only be a… ship.”
“So…” Glen continued nodding. “What exactly does this have to do with me?”
Forest detected not only the coolness in Glen’s demeanor, but also the lack of surprise at the news Forest had just imparted. Forest decided to come straight to the point.
“What are your political aspirations, Glen?” the president suddenly asked. “As you know, I’m coming up for re-election, and, well, my advisors tell me I need to get with the public and have a younger man as my vice president.”
“And?” Glen frowned.
“I like you, Glen,” Forest smiled. “And I think that you and I would make a great team. And of course, you do realize that the V P would be a certain shoo-in come the election after next when I’m not allowed to stand again.”
“You want me?” Glen’s jaw dropped. “Why?”
“Like I said,” Forest shrugged. “I like you.”
“I’m sensing a catch here,”
The president watched Glen closely.
“I need Max Evans,” Forest continued. “I suspect that he knows about this… visitor and can advise me as to its intentions. Are they hostile, or friendly? I need the power he posseses.”
“Forgive me for being a little bewildered here, sir, but didn’t I already arrange a meeting between the two of you?”
“You did,” Forest agreed. “He seemed to have misunderstood the situation. It appears that he thought my advance security were somehow trying to capture him.”
“Really. I wonder why?”
“You have to understand my position. There’s more at stake here than just the liberty of a few teenagers. Lives are at stake. I have to consider the lives of the country’s population as a whole, heck, perhaps even the planet and not just a handful of teens. I need the power that this boy controls, and I can’t risk having it running around the country, ‘our’ country, like a loose canon. It needs to be… directed.”
“And you think you are the one to do the directing?”
“With guidance from certain personal,” Forest nodded. “Such as my vice president.”
“So the deal, as I understand it, is the offer of V P and a future shot at the White House in return for betraying a sincere young man and his friends.”
“In this game, McCarthy,” Forest took a deep breath, “you’re either for us, or you’re against us. What’s it going to be?”
“Mr. President,” Glen rose from the seat. “I think you might have a better chance of playing golf with Elvis than you have of ever getting the opportunity to… control Max Evans. Neither do I think you stand a chance of facing whatever is on that ship without his co-operation. I don’t think that you fully realize just where you have placed yourself. The words ‘rock’ and ‘hard place’ come to mind. I’ll see myself out.”
* * *
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DATELINE: January 9th 2003 - - - - - - Washington, DC. Governments around the world were thrown into turmoil last night when documents leaked from SETI (Search for Extra Terrestrial Life forms) in California suggested that they have picked up a deep space radar echo of what they believe is an approaching alien space ship. Although the governments themselves, including President Forest claims that this document is a hoax, newspapers around the world have been running with the contents of this report as their lead story.
“I know nothing of an approaching unidentified flying object,” Forest is quoted as saying at his press briefing this morning. “I know nothing of aliens moving among us. We are merely seeing the results of moving through the tail end of an asteroid belt. The objects that have so far fallen into the desert of Nevada were merely meteorites, just as it will turn out that this new object approaching is.”
In spite of such denials, it has been noticed that Nuclear Fallout Shelters, long disused and fallen into disrepair since the demise of the Iron Curtain, have been taken out of mothballs and have been rapidly made functional once again. So serious is the situation, the United Nations Security Council is holding a meeting open to all delegate, purportedly to discuss how to defuse the situation and put an end to the rumors. Conjecture states, however, that this is merely the excuse to secretly discuss what tactics Earth should employ in the event that this ship is on its way here to discover the fate of their colleagues sent here on earlier visits and who now lie according to rumor, in vaults beneath Area 51.
Meanwhile, supermarkets report that although panic buying has not yet started, the average householders’ grocery bills have more than doubled as families start the stockpiling procedure. Some gas stations have reported that they are now serving regular customers only, while others have refused to let people fill anything other than their cars. Police forces up and down the country have cancelled all leave while National Guards barracks are full as the authorities have called on all members seeking to take whatever precautions are necessary to maintain control of their state.
On another matter, it has been noticed that there has been a tightening of security around the President. There are twice the normal number of secret service agents surrounding him, while visitors to the white house, including well known members of the media who turn up for the press briefings, are X-rayed first. It would make sense to suggest that the President and his advisors clearly expect an attempt on his life, perhaps from aliens he claims are not among us. - - - - - - Reuters.
“Sir,” an adjutant approached Kivar and handed him a smooth sheet of silver metal. “This has just come from forward scanning.”
“What is it?” Kivar reached for the report.
“We’ve detected some radio type waves bouncing off of us.”
“And?” Kivar failed to understand.
“It seems they know we’re on the way,” the man told him. “The Earthlings have detected our approach.”
“I doubt that need concern us,” Kivar shrugged. “No doubt the Nyelda has already informed Zan of our approach.”
“The Human government posses weapons that might be able to reach us when we are closer. Ava suggested that they are a warlike race.”
“Make the shield ready for deployment at a seconds notice,” Kivar ordered. “While that’s up, then there is nothing made from earthly material that can pass. When we get there, we’ll keep out of range of the weapons the Nyelda was likely carrying. I’m sure Zan would have made arrangements to have them transported to Earth. Call my commanders. It’s time to discuss our strategy.”
“Of course, Excellency,” the adjutant nodded. “But if you forgive my forwardness, what’s to discuss? We all know that shuttles have been flying to Earth and back from the Nyelda. It’s obvious that Zan and his forces have been fleeing the planet. I have no doubt that he seeks to flee to Antar and join forces with Larek. Lord Stepanas has already cleared his lands of our forces, and even now marches toward Talluvia.”
“As it happens,” Kivar smiled, “my commanders agree with your appraisal. They too believe that. And as worrying as that sounds, once we have forces on Earth, I believe we can force the… ex-King to return and face me.”
“And be destroyed,” the adjutant grinned.
“One would certainly hope so.”
“We have heard of Nikolas’s defeat, Excellency,” he continued. “The army you have so painstakingly planted over the past years will not now be there for us.”
“Once I have a dozen or so drop ships on the surface, we will be in a strong enough position to… reanimate them. I know the location of the four remaining stones. I’m sure we can fabricate a fifth.”
“Is the conquest of the earth really necessary?”
“I know how the soldiers talk,” Kivar confirmed. “I know they say that things are turning out bad. But we will not return to Antar while Zan still lives. With his death dies the rebellion.”
“What of his heir?”
“I have heard nothing from my daughter,” Kivar shook his head. “I must assume that she has failed me once again.”
“It is rumored that your treatment of her upon her return might have forced her to reconcile with Zan, and even now sides with him against you.”
“I doubt it,” Kivar shook his head. “I believe Zan has killed her. Which is another reason for me to see Zan dead. And that is why I will call for a simple plan.”
“Which is?”
“Total Annihilation,” Kivar shrugged.
“Where will we start?” the man grinned.
“Where else?” Kivar stabbed his finger onto a large map. It pointed to a large expanse of yellow and brown. “Roswell.”
* * *
“The soldiers all seem a little more jumpy than usual,” Kyle observed from the window of the diner.
They were all sitting around a large table, hardly eating their breakfast before them. Outside in the square, the latest batch of soldiers to leave the compound were mounting the helicopters. Already, a slow but steady stream of the non-combatants – such as the families – were leaving the camp in their heavy laden cars.
“They still have the look of determination, though,” Michael observed. He turned to Max. “They won’t let you down.”
“Us, Michael,” Max reminded him. “They won’t let us down.”
“Us,” Michael nodded.
“So, what? This is the third batch?” Connie screwed her lips as she tried to remember the coming and goings.
“Third,” Isabel nodded.
“When do we make our move, Max?” Jesse asked.
“We’re next,” Max looked at his watch. “Did you warn Glen?”
“I did,” Jesse nodded. “He told me that Forest tried to cut a deal, by the way. Trade you for a spot on his staff. V P.”
“Wow,” Maria raised her eyebrows. “And he turned it down?”
“Glen’s a good one,” Jesse confirmed. “I’d like to see him take a shot at the presidency.”
“Is it too late for him to start running?” Max wondered. “I could work with him as president.”
“Not yet,” Jesse shook his head. “And once he does, he’s going to have to compete with whoever the ex-president’s wife backs.”
“Maybe we can persuade her to back Glen,” Liz grinned. “She’d love to be in the spotlight beside Max. It’s the kind of photo opportunity she lives for.”
“I’m kinda hoping there won’t be any spotlights on me.”
“Get real, Max,” Connie grinned. “That light’s been on you since the day you declared to the universe how much you loved Liz.”
“So did Glen agree?” Max turned the subject around again.
“He did,” Jesse smirked at Max’s neat maneuver. “He’s going to ground, just like you suggested. He’ll meet up with us when it’s all over.”
“Good,” Max nodded. “I don’t want anyone not involved with this to get caught up in the fallout.”
At last, the helicopters returned. With their kit bags, packed with the possessions that they would need for their part in the operation, Max and his friends filed out of diner and toward one of the empty choppers. They were intercepted by Mr. Anderson and his daughter, Peggy.
“So you’re leaving us, Max,” he looked disappointed.
“Afraid so,” Max nodded. “We, uh… have things to do.”
“Another battle coming up, huh?” Mr. Anderson understood. “But you aren’t planning on using my camp as a base this time?”
“No,” Max shook his head. “I’m afraid that after this one, it won’t be safe for you or Peggy for us to be here.”
“That bad, huh?”
“That bad,” Michael confirmed.
“You ever gonna come back?”
“Sure we will,” Max nodded, but his eyes showed that he doubted the truth of those words.
“Well, you take care,” he shook Max’s hand. “And look after this lovely wife of yours.”
“I will,” he nodded as his friend hugged Liz.
The good byes were emotional, especially when Peggy said her good byes to Max. At last, they were over, and the climbed into to the aircraft. The Helicopter lifted up and circled around the camp to give everyone the last view of what had been their home for so long before it sped away above the treetops. No one spoke, not even Kyle.
* * *
“You gotta love that Langley,” Kyle looked at the private jet that had become almost personal property for Max and Liz.
“You can try,” Max smirked.
“I get on with him,” Liz shrugged.
“You get on with everyone,” Jesse pointed out. “Actually, going back to what we were discussing earlier, you would make an awesome first lady. Care to stand, Max?”
“We have enough problems with being who we are,” Liz rolled her eyes. “Let’s not add more pressure, shall we?”
“Cool paint job,” Michael commented, indicating the tail of the small jet. “Wasn’t it plain white before?”
“Yeah,” Max nodded. “That’s new.”
“See what it is?”
“Oh my god,” Liz exclaimed. “Max, it’s…”
“Our seals,” Max added. “Superimposed over one another.”
“Over the top of the whirlwind symbol,” Isabel finished.
“I guess that’s one thing we needn’t worry about what,” Maria added.
“Excuse me?”
Everyone turned to face her, confusion evident on everyone’s face.
“That whirlwind symbol,” Maria pointed. “It was like a quest or something, wasn’t it? Something about preventing time from repeating itself? Well, I’m guessing that Liz has done that. Max has married the right girl, and no one is betraying him. I think that this really will all end up okay.”
“If we can get past this,” Max indicated that they should board the plane. “We have a schedule to keep.”
* * *
When the plane landed at the small private airport, it taxied into a large hanger on the far side, out of the way of the other travelers. Inside the hanger, four taxi cabs, chauffeured by Max’s men waited for them.
“Remember,” Max reminded them as they loaded their luggage into the cabs. “In public, we do not know each other. So no recognition, okay? Maria? If you have to have a girl to girl chat, you have to find someone else. This is too important, okay?”
“You say it like I can’t live without Liz,” Maria complained. “I don’t run to her with every little problem.”
“Whatever,” Isabel rolled her eyes and climbed into her cab with Jesse.
“Stay off the phones!” Max called out. “Except in an emergency.”
The rest said goodbye and climbed into their cabs. The vehicles left the hangers, taking different directions to leave the airport.
“Will they be okay, do you think?” Liz looked out through the back window at the other cabs.”
“They’re all grown up,” Max grinned. “It was time to fly the nest.”
“That’s meant to comfort me?” Liz gave him a heated look.
“They’ll be fine,” he nodded. “It’s only for one night. Besides, we’ll see them again this evening.”
At the motel, Max and Liz checked in as Mr. and Mrs. King. Jesse and Isabel had taken the name, Law; Kyle and Connie were using Constable while Michael and Maria had taken the name, Spacey. Once they had settled, the young couple walked hand in hand across the busy road to the diner, where they tried to eat their lunch. Both were too apprehensive over their forth-coming adventure. They returned to their room where they showered and dressed, waiting for the call that would summon them to their briefing meeting. Although they exchanged kisses in an attempt to bolster one another’s confidence, their mood was too subdued to move beyond heavy petting. At long last, the knock on the door told them that it was time.
“Mr. and Mrs. King?” the taxi driver inquired when Max opened the door.
This time, it was not one of Max’s followers, but an ordinary driver. As ordinary as you could get in this city, that is.
“Yeah,” Max nodded.
The driver followed Max’s directions, and dropped him and Liz outside a busy shopping mall.
“This would have been hell for Maria,” Liz laughed as she ran with Max in one entrance, through the mall’s heart and out the other side.
After a quick glance to see if they had been followed, they boarded a bus. Twenty minutes later, they entered an old theater in the heart of a run down district. Rented by a Hollywood casting agency, their cover was that they, along with dozens of others, were here to read for a part in an upcoming film. Outside, a group of Max’s Antarians guard were making sure that not only would they not be interrupted, they would not be listened to by whatever listening devices might be aimed in their direction by curious authorities. One thing they all feared, especially in this city, were the up to date counter terrorism procedures that had been put in place.
Small groups of people had been arriving in a slow but steady stream for the past hour. Max and Liz were among the last. When Michael spotted their safe arrival, it was like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
“They’re still looking nervous,” Max observed from his seat on the stage he had taken,
“Briefings are always like this, Max,” Armstead tried to placate him. “As soon as we hit zero hour, they’ll be fine.”
Max nodded, but Liz could tell that he was not convinced. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.
* * *
“Gentlemen,” Armstead called the briefing to order. “Ladies. Let’s get on.”
The buzz of conversation ended as everyone took their places in the scruffy red velour seats. He had their complete attention as years of training took over.
“It’s been quite a ride, hasn’t it?”
He paused while everyone nodded, giving him their agreement.
“I remember when I was first approached about this rather secret army of ours,” Armstead reminisced. “I had always suspected that life forms existed on another planet other than our own. “And I was always suspicious of their intentions. So to be asked to help lead a task force dedicated to resist any invasion attempts, I was only too pleased to accept. I never… ever… considered that in order to resist this invasion, I would be lead by a young man fresh out of high school who was actually a life form from one of those planets.”
There were murmurs as they all agreed with him.
“But Max has been the real deal. A great leader. Someone we have come to respect and, dare I say it, love.”
Heads nodded in the audience.
“And now he leads us in another venture, only this one is different than any we have performed before. Sure, we have trained for something like this, but we always hoped that we would never use those skills. If we all do our jobs the way we were trained, then we shall achieve total surprise, and there will be no need for gunfire. We know how this enemy thinks, how this enemy acts. Only, they are not really our enemy. They are merely our adversaries this day. They have their job to do, and part of that job will be to stop us from doing what we have to do.”
Armstead paused to let the men consider this.
“We didn’t want to do this, but Forest’s recent attempts to abduct Max has forced our hand. This is the only way that we can get the help and support we need. It’s all or nothing, gentlemen. If we succeed, then we might have a chance when we face this Kivar. If we fail… well, it won’t matter. Max knows that what he is asking of you goes against everything you have ever sworn to uphold. Against ever tenet of your faith and belief in our way of life. So, if you really cannot bring yourself to do this, then now is the time to leave. Neither Max, nor me, nor even you yourself will think any the less of you. You have all performed admirably and will always hold our respect. If your conscience will not allow you to take this next step, then now is the time to leave.”
No one moved. No one even looked like they had considered moving.
“Thank you,” Armstead grinned. “I give you Max Evans.”
The applause was as thunderous as the hundred or so soldiers could make. Max had to wait five minutes for his audience to settle. Without a shadow of a doubt, the men were one hundred percent behind him. When Max took his place at the podium, he had the bearing of his birthright. Max was every inch a king.
“Thank you,” Max grinned. He waited for them to settle down. “As you know, I had hoped that my meeting with Forest would bring about recognition of what we have done. That he would bring the might of the US forces on our side. But, as we have since discovered… his, uh... blinkered view of power has made him… blind to the realities of the situation. Even now, while the world is on the verge of panic over the rumors of the approaching UFO, he still plots to capture me. So, we need this avenue. There’s only one way we can get help, without the threat of me ending in one of his labs. We need help if we are to protect the world’s population. I know how many of you secretly feel about this, and I appreciate that you are so determined to see this through with us. Thank you. So, with that in mind, here is how we’re going to do it.”
Michael and Kyle rose behind Max and pulled down a huge, rolled map of the well known city, with one of the most famous buildings in the word at its center. Many in the audience shook their heads, even though they had known all along what their target would be.
* * *
Jim Valenti entered the Crashdown café, dressed in his deputy sheriff’s uniform, holding his thermos flask against his chest to protect it from the crush of patrons that had gathered in the diner. He couldn’t even hear the bell that chimed above the door, because of the noise generated by the customers.
“Pretty busy,” Jim grinned at him Jeff, working hard behind the counter.
“It’s just not fair,” Jeff grinned back. “I work hard all these years praying for something like this, you know, to boost trade, and when it does happen, it’s at a time I really don’t want it.”
“Them’s the breaks,” Jim winked. “Have the media been in yet? It’s a veritable circus out there, interviewing anyone and everyone who knew Max, Liz and the others. Good thing is, everyone’s closing up and just saying that Max was this normal, upstanding guy who was madly in love with Liz for just about ever. National Inquirer offered big bucks to any girl who had any kiss and tell stories about them. I’m told the reporter still sports Pam Troy’s palm print where she hit him so hard.”
“Good for her,” Jeff started to chuckle. “To think that Liz never liked the girl.”
“Any idea why?”
“Nope. Clash of personalities, I guess.”
“Have they been in to see you, yet?”
“Yeah,” Jeff frowned. “They were in earlier, asking about how my daughter got caught up with an alien, what traits Max ever showed that proved he was an alien, that sort of thing. I think they’re trying to make him out to be some kind of ogre or something.”
“I can’t believe that so many people crawled out of the woodwork.”
“They’re fawning all over the press with their own stories,” Jeff agreed. “Which is good, ‘cause it’s keeping them off of our back.”
“And there are so many different factions, too.”
“Tell me about it,” Jeff shook his head and pointed to the far corner. “Over there, we have the freaks an nut cases who are claiming to be off spring from alien births, or abductees from the past.” He pointed to another group, looking more smug than the first. “That lot are the ones who haven’t stopped saying ‘I told you so.’”
Jim looked across at the group, wearing t-shirts with slogans like ‘See!”, ‘Proven!’, ‘Vindicated’ and ‘All those years, all those lies.’”
“They’re gonna be pains in the ass,” he shook his head.
“They’re not the worst though,” Jeff nodded at still another group. “Religious
fruit cakes, claiming that it’s not a UFO on the way, but the second coming of the messiah. When Kivar gets here, this lot want to damn well worship him.”
“Jim!” they heard someone call. “Jim!”
Both men turned to face the crowd. A small, stocky man scurried from the door toward them.
“Well, well, well,” Jim smiled. “Milton Ross. Haven’t seen you in an age.”
“Is it true?” Milton grabbed Jim’s arm. “Is it true that Max Evans was an alien all along? Damn. I stood this close to him and never saw the signs.”
“There were no signs to see, Milton,” Jim shook his head. “Max Evans is human. These freaks are confused.”
“He could have told me,” Milton ignored him. “I employed him, for Christ’s sake. Me. I had a real live alien working for me all the time. I never should have sold out to that Englishman. God, they’re so… sneaky.”
“Milton,” Jim interrupted him.
“And you, Jeff,” Milton turned to face him. “How many times did we do business. And you never told me your girl was dating an alien. Wait. Can she do that? Isn’t that, like, I don’t know, unbiological or something.”
“Milton,” Jim called a little louder. “Jeff’s kind of busy right now, and it’s not a good time to go suggesting things about his baby girl. How about if you come back later when he’s less busy and we talk then.”
“You’ll tell me the truth?”
“As we see it,” Jim nodded.
“What’ll you tell him?” Jeff asked as Milton scurried away to add to the growing tales of Max Evans and his alien heritage.
“How he’s suffering from the same hysteria the rest of them are,” Jim shrugged. “Maybe Philip will come up with some legal argument. A subpoena or something. Talking of which, I can’t find them. The Evans. Their house is locked up as tight as the lab we found in that garage.”
“Philips out back,” Jeff turned and nodded at the kitchen.
Jim started to laugh at the sight of Philip wearing a bandana and apron as he worked the grill. Philip nodded to him, but cast a glare that suggested Jim might prefer not to make any comments.
“Wait till you see my waitresses,” Jeff grinned.
Jim scanned the café interior. He had to do a double take when he saw not only Nancy, but Diane and Amy dressed in the turquoise outfits, with silver alien head aprons and antennae bobbing over their heads.
“Not as cute as the other waitresses that used to work here,” Jeff continued, “but I think you’ll agree, each one of them holds something attractive to each one of us.”
“I’ll say,” Jim winked. “Does Amy get to bring the uniform home?”
“It can be arranged,” Jeff winked.
“As were all here,” Philip appeared beside Jim, pulling the bandana from his head, “can I suggest a quick meeting upstairs?”
“So what’s going on?” Amy demanded as she watched Philip walk to the window and peer outside.
“I hope it’s about Liz, Max and the others,” Nancy nodded at Amy. “I mean, we have heard so little from them. They don’t even answer their phones any more.”
“Why is Max keeping us out of the loop?” Diane called to Philip.
“And what is so interesting outside?” Jim added.
“They are,” Philip nodded out the window.
They all joined Philip and looked outside. Standing by the UFO center were two men dressed in alien memorabilia, yet they did not look like a typical X-File fan.
“FBI,” Jim nodded.
“I think it might be secret service,” Philip disagreed.
“Secret Service? Are they hoping Max will show up here or something?”
“I think Max has kept us out of the loop this time for good reason. I think he wants to keep us completely innocent of whatever it is he is up to.”
“You know, though, don’t you,” Amy was the first to realize this.
Five expectant faces looked at Philip.
“No,” he shook his head. “I don’t know for a fact, but I think I can guess.”
“Well, are you going to tell us?” Diane demanded.
“Or do we have to beat it out of you,” Nancy finished.
“It’s like this. Max needs Forest, right? Only Forest wouldn’t play ball. So if the mountain won’t come to Mohammed, then Mohammed must do something else to see the mountain.”
“Stop talking in riddles!” Jeff barked.
“I think…” Philip’s voice wavered. “I think Max is going to try to kidnap the president of the United States of America.”
* * *
Last edited by WR on Fri Jan 02, 2004 2:37 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
WR
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 388
- Joined: Sat Oct 13, 2001 10:22 am
- Location: Somewhere over England
Part 72
The two shapes lay huddled together in the strange bed, in the strange room of the strange motel in the strange city. The only thing not strange was the position they found themselves in. Like a couple of spoons, Liz lay with her back pressed against Max’s chest and stomach. His arms were wrapped around her, pulling her into a protective cocoon.
“It feels strange, doesn’t it?” she asked, her voice on the edge of a whisper.
“What does?” Max replied in a low tone to match hers.
“Being apart from our friends, right before such a… a big day.”
“Yeah,” Max nodded in the dark. “Precautions we’ve never had to take before, Liz. With all the security that’s been added around here, we can’t risk that one of us might be spotted. At least this way, if one of us is, we don’t risk the whole operation.”
“Unless it’s you,” Liz mumbled.
Max just agreed with a nod of his head. They fell silent, listening to the traffic on the road outside.
“After tomorrow,” Liz spoke at last, “it’s all going to be different.”
“Do you regret what we’re doing?” Max’s voice betrayed his concern.
“No,” Liz spoke with conviction. She held her breath for a moment and then slowly exhaled. “It’s just…” Liz twisted her body, held in Max’s arms, so that she could look at him. Their faces were millimeters away. “Max? When is this ever going to be about you and me? Everything we’ve done, it’s always about duty, or… or…”
“I don’t think it ever will, Liz,” Max nuzzled his mouth against Liz cheek, seeking out her sensitive earlobe. “I mean, no matter what happens tomorrow, no matter how it all turns out, I’ll either be dead or…”
“Don’t say that, Max,” Liz pulled her hand out from between them and pressed it to Max’s mouth breathing in her ear. Worry and concern laced every syllable, as though his words might be a premonition of the worst kind.
“Or I’ll be this… I don’t know. Figure head, scapegoat… something. The thing is, Liz. So will you. You’ll be right up there with me, only some might see you as something… worse. I mean, this is a country that still vilifies Benedict Arnold.”
“I know,” Liz sighed.
“You never signed up to any of this when we got married last year,” Max’s voice seemed tense. “We were just these… kids… on the run. Doing good deeds and avoiding the law, remember? But now? Now, I’m a king again. A leader. And as my wife, you’ll be looked up to, respected or heated along with me. If this is too much for you to take, I’ll…” There was a catch in his voice. “I’ll understand.”
Liz sucked in her breath, ready to answer him, but Max interrupted.
“Before you say anything,” he reached back over himself and into his bag on the floor beside him. “I want you to listen to this. I heard it the other day, the first time for ages. I, uh… borrowed it from the soldier.” A shiny disk in Max’s hands reflected the little available light. The room filled with music.
Look into my eyes - you will see
What you mean to me
Search your heart - search your soul
And when you find me there you'll search no more
Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for
You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for
You know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you
Look into my heart - you will find
There's nothin' there to hide
Take me as I am - take my life
I would give it all I would sacrifice
Don't tell me it's not worth fightin' for
I can't help it there's nothin' I want more
Ya know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you
There's no love - like your love
And no other - could give more love
There's nowhere - unless you're there
All the time - all the way
Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for
I can't help it there's nothin' I want more
I would fight for you - I'd lie for you
Walk the wire for you - Ya I'd die for you
Ya know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you
“I’m not going anywhere, Max,” Liz wrapped her arms around him and pulled his face into her bosom. “Not unless you’re there with me.”
“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that,” Max smiled against her white breasts.
He placed a tender kiss against the warm flesh. His lips traced a line along her soft mound, up her neck, over her chin and finding her lips at last. Yet, in spite of their love for one another, this was as much as they could rise to.
“We have a busy day tomorrow,” Liz placed a sensuous kiss on his lips. “We’d better get some sleep.”
“Yeah,” Max agreed, knowing that he would not be sleeping that night. Not when everything he had ever struggled to attain was about to be thrown with one roll of fate’s dice.
* * *
It was s pleasant surprise to find that the freeway was clear of traffic as the man dressed in the dark suit drove his large Japanese car to work that morning. Although he worked in the city, he preferred to live out of town, even if it did mean that he had an hours drive there in the morning and another back each evening. Possessing an important job as a head of security at a famous – not to mention politically important – building that he put up with the inconvenience that his commute gave over the peace and tranquility that his country retreat afforded him. Many of his neighbors had asked him how he could stand the pressure. His hand sought out the reassuring bulge of his Magnum 44, nestled in his shoulder holster, reminding him that the military and political might of his country lay behind him. Promotion, he knew, was just around the corner. Something bigger, and better. Responsible for the building, he hoped that one day soon, he would look after those inside the building instead. One day, who knew? Perhaps, the big man himself. Or woman, he admitted. That day was only around the corner.
Because he was not concentrating fully on the few vehicles around him, he did not spot the flashing red and blue lights until they were right behind him. He shook his head as he lifted the indicator stalk and started to slow down.
“Damn rookies!” he growled, anger burning his words.
The cold air bit into his face as he rolled his window down as one of the policemen approached him, a pad and pen in his hand.
“Do you know who I am?” he demanded of the policeman.
“Yes, sir,” the officer nodded. “You are a man who was doing sixty five in a fifty five limit."
“No way,” the man shook his head. “You go back there and check with your superiors. I think you’ll find you have made a mistake.”
“Would you mind stepping out of the car, sir?”
“I’ll have your job for this!” he barked, reaching inside his jacket for his ID.
Beside him, a gun appeared in the policeman’s hand.
“You hold it right there,” he ordered.
He lifted his hand away, and moved it up.
“Open you jacket, sir,” the policeman ordered.
“Look, you buffoon, I am…”
“Open your jacket, sir!” The gun clicked beside him.
He was aware that the second policeman was now aiming his gun at him from the other side. He decided that it would be better to comply with these imbeciles and sort everything out downtown, rather than risk a bullet from these nervous rookies. He lifted his jacket, revealing his pistol. The first officer reached in and took the gun out of his holster.
“Now step out of the car,” he opened the door, still holding the gun on him.
He stepped out into the cold air and grunted as the policeman spun him around and slapped the cold handcuffs to his wrists. The other policeman was beside him now, and together, they searched him thoroughly. He thought it strange when neither policeman seemed to care about the large letters stamped across his ID. One of the policemen simply slipped everything into his pockets, his gun, his ID, his badge and his radio cell phone. He was led to the police car and once ensconced into the secure rear interior, watched as the second policeman drove his car away,
* * *
The second policeman watched the car as it continued up the freeway. Using the access point further along the road, it made a U-turn onto the opposite lane and drove back in the other direction. He climbed into the arrested man’s car, started the engine, and pulled out onto the freeway. A bright blue light lit the car’s interior and as it dulled, the form of the arrested man was once again driving to work. Less than an hour later, he turned up the main road that led past his destination. He peered through the window at the impressive building, and smiled at the present flags. At the security gates, a guard emerged from the small building next to the lowered barrier.
“Morning, sir,” the guard nodded as he checked the offered ID card and badge. Even though this was his boss, and he had known the man for ten years, he would follow the strict procedure that had long been laid down. “Running a little late this morning?”
“I got held up on the freeway,” the man grinned.
“Well, everyone’s in,” the guard handed the ID back. “Promises to be a momentous day, huh?”
“I’ll say,” he grinned.
He drove the car to the parking bay that had the number he knew was allocated to him, and parked the car.
“This is Jack,” he spoke into a small microphone in his lapel. “The beanstalk has been planted.”
* * *
Seth, the aging janitor, pushed his trolley filled with cleaning equipment along the marbled hallways, attending to any little tasks his experienced eye deemed necessary. He had been doing this same job for twenty-two years, and had perfected his routine to a fine art. He stopped by a telephone, hanging in a sound absorbing hood and pulled a sanitizing spray and cloth from one of his trolley’s drawers. True, this phone might not be one of the politically sensitive ones; this phone might not be used to pass on important information, this was only a public telephone but never-the-less, there were standards to uphold. Lifting the handset, he prayed the two ends with his spray, and then started to wipe the whole thing with the cloth. When he realized that he could not hear a dial tone, he held it to his ear while he flicked the ‘disconnect’ button a few times. Nothing. Seth shrugged, hung up the phone and pushed his trolley back down the corridor to his office. He knew that although he could wait to report the fault, these things were best resolved when he found them. Never put off today what you could do tomorrow, he grinned at his father’s wise words. Words he had passed on to his own children. He picked up his own phone, and punched out the memorized number.
“Yeah, hello,” he spoke at the operator’s answer. “I’m calling to report a faulty phone. The number? Yeah. It’s five five five, three seven nine one. No, not really. Not urgent at all, but with a day like today, we gotta be prepared, you know? Really? Right away? Cool. Thanks a lot. Appreciate it.”
* * *
The guard in the small gatehouse watched as the telephone repair van pulled to a halt just in front of the barrier that blocked its progress. One of the guards emerged from the warm shelter, carrying a clipboard in his gloved hands.
“I got a call requesting the repair of one of your phones,” the driver informed the guard, showing him the identity cards that hung around his neck.”
“You have a requisition?” the guard checked the photo on the ID against the drivers face.
“Uh huh,” he nodded. “Right here.” He handed the guard a pink sheet of paper.
The guard took the sheet, checked the number of the form against his clipboard and ticked off a row on his job sheet. He slid the pink sheet to the back of his pile of papers. At a nod from the guard, two more emerged from the gatehouse. One carried a long pole to which a mirror had been fixed. While he used this to check the van’s underside, the other opened the back door. At last, their security checks were complete and the barrier was raised. The telephone repair mechanic was waved in. The man nodded, and drove toward a door at the back of the main building. He backed up to the door. When he had opened this door, he also opened the door to his van. After checking to make sure that he was unobserved, he looked into the van and nodded. Two men, invisible only moments before, seemed to appear from the thin walls of the van. A blue light filled the interior and exact duplicates of two of the gate guards appeared in their place. The telephone repair man watched them as they slipped into bushes to head for the gatehouse.
“This is Aladdin. The Genie is out of the lamp.”
He turned to find the janitor.
* * *
Beverly Craven stepped from the crowded bus and huddled her coat against the chill wind that whipped across the open landscape. She started the walk from the bus stop toward the imposing building where she worked. Her ginger hair was pulled into a tight bun, and oval spectacles sat on the slightly flat nose. She was short and slightly overweight. Relying on public transport as she did, she was always early, so she had developed the habit of stopping at Starbucks on the corner where a cup of coffee and toffee muffin would take residence in her thighs. And other places. It had become a daily ritual that would start her on the right foot for her day at the office. Especially on cold days like today. As she sat at the window, watching the morning rush hour, an attractive blond woman sat beside her, sipping her latte.
“Morning,” the blonde nodded to her.
“Morning,” Beverly nodded back.
“Cold, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. But it’s been colder.”
“I’ll say. I’ve seen you here before. Do you work somewhere around here?”
“Up there,” Beverly nodded tat he building.
“Wow!” the blonde looked impressed. “Really? I’m impressed.”
“Oh, it’s nothing important,” Beverly quickly shook her head. “I work as a translator.”
“Wow. Really? So which languages do you speak. Other than English, I mean.”
“Uhm, French, Italian and, uh, Spanish.”
“Impressive,” the blonde raised her eyebrows. “So do you…”
“I do,” Beverly smiled. They always wanted to know if she ever saw secret stuff.
“If I was fluent in another language, how easy would it be to find employment there? I always thought how exciting it would be to work in a job like that. I mean, I know you can’t talk about it or anything, but you must hear so many interesting things that the rest of us don’t. You know?”
“Yeah,” Beverly nodded. “We hear some things that you could definitely say was… interesting. But then, it’s not all the time. This week, for example, I have the misfortune of being on standby. I’ll only hear what’s going on if one of the others don’t turn up.”
“Misfortune?” the other woman frowned. “How so?”
“Well, with all these silly rumors of aliens and stuff.”
Beverly tried to laugh the comment off but there was a nervous shadow in her eyes. She glanced at her watch. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I have to go.”
The woman got up with her.
“Would you mind if I tag along? I’m heading up past that way too.”
“Sure.”
Together, they stepped out of the warmth of Starbucks and into the cold wind.
“So how do I go about finding work there? I mean, seriously.”
“Well, first, you have to take a language fluency test. Then, assuming you pass that, there are the political tests and psychological tests and the…”
“Test tests?”
“Yeah,” Beverly grinned. “I could get you an application if you like.”
“But there’s an easier way, right?”
“Easier?” she frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“I could just… take your place.”
Beverly started to giggle.
“Right,” she looked the attractive blonde up and down. “Do you know what safety procedures they have in place? You’d not only have to have my looks, but my finger prints and my retina scan.”
“That can all be arranged.”
Beverly turned to look at her companion. Her jaw dropped as she saw, standing there facing her, a mirror image of herself. The whole visage went hazy as she tried to decipher what it was that she was looking at. Set to overload, she couldn’t handle it. She fainted. A car pulled up beside them, and she was pulled into the interior. Someone inside took her identification and her cell phone, and handed them to the shape-shifted version of the woman still standing outside. The car pulled away, taking Beverly Craven to the luxury hotel that had been commandeered to be a temporary prison for these… prisoners of war.
“This is Goldilocks. I’m in the bear’s house.”
The new Beverly continued on her way.
* * *
Like the telephone engineer’s van before it, the big, white van pulled up outside of the security gates at the back entrance. It stopped just short of the barrier that blocked its way. A guard holding a clipboard emerged to check it out. He glanced at the legend on the side that proclaimed it to be a mobile unit for a local, independent news channel. He shook his head as he approached the window. The window rolled down.
“Can I see some ID,” he peered at the two passengers inside.
Two identity cards were thrust at him.
“So,” he read the names from them both. “How did you swing this, Miss Brackham. The only news agency allowed in today.”
“Friends in high places,” she shrugged. “My producer was owed a favor from some big shot in Hollywood, who was owed a favor by some politician… You get the picture?”
“Sure do,” he grinned while looking at the other passenger’s ID. “Wheels within wheels. Here you go Miss Brackham,” he handed the card back to her. “Mr. King,” The guard nodded to her companion. He turned to the other two guards checking the vehicle. “Is it all clear back there?”
“All clear,” the other two guards looked into the back of the television van. Amid the cameras sat two dozen people, dressed in black, carrying automatic weapons. The two groups nodded to each other.
“All clear,” they smiled at each other.
“In you go, Miss Brackham,” the guard raised the barrier. “Remember that you can’t broadcast anything ‘till you get the go ahead, and you have to leave before the start of the big meeting.”
“Got it.”
“Though, I think I can safely say that what you hear today will change your life.”
“Not mine,” Sarah winked at Max as they drove through the gates.
The guard watched the van drive toward the building.
“I can’t believe they let the press in today,” he shrugged. “Man. I need a holiday.”
“Somewhere luxurious?” one of his colleagues smiled as he stepped up beside him.
“Somewhere where you could just sit around doing nothing all day but relax?”
“Why not take the rest of the day off and do just that?”
“Sounds perfect. Except we have to see to the safety of all these important people. Who’s gonna oversee the day’s roster?”
Another man joined them.
“Why don’t I do it?” he asked.
The guard’s jaw dropped when he looked at himself. A small prick in his neck followed by blackness ended his part in the day’s activities. Moments later, three vans rolled up, and through the raised barriers. Men emerged from the vans and disappeared into the building’s interior.
“The seven dwarves are in the cottage.”
* * *
They climbed out from the back of the television van. The last to emerge were Isabel, Jesse, Connie, Kyle, Michael, Maria and Liz. She rushed to Max’s side as he appeared from the front. Their hands joined at once.
“So far, so good,” he nodded at everyone. “You all know what you have to do. Let’s do it.”
“It’s not too late to abort, Max,” Isabel cast him a look of sympathy. She knew what this day would cost Max.
“No,” Max shook his head. He looked at Liz. “I have to do this. It’s not just my lifestyle at stake anymore. We’re talking about the future of this planet.”
Isabel nodded, and waved at her soldiers. With Jesse at her side, she turned toward the corridor that pointed to the administration offices.
Two of the soldiers, the radio operators, went to assist Sarah with the television equipment. It was these two who were keeping the various teams coordinated with the others. Their radio sets were part of the TV cameras. The three of them started to assemble the trolley to carry everything.
“Well, good luck,” Kyle turned back to the exit. He and Connie led their men toward the back entrances where their job was to prevent reinforcements.
Michael walked up to Max, shook his hand. He turned and hugged Liz.
“Good luck, man,” he smiled.
He made no motion to those men allocated to him. As he turned away to head for the central security rooms, his men – the bulk of the forces available - followed. Maria hung back while she hugged Max. She then hugged Liz.
“Watch out for Max,” she whispered in her ear. “’Cause I already know he’ll be watching out for you.”
Liz grinned and watched Maria as she scurried away after Michael.
“Well,” Max sighed. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Why are we crawling through this service tunnel like a bunch of rats?” a voice complained from the back.
They were walking through a narrow tunnel, bent over almost double.
“Until Michael has control of the security system, we can’t afford to be spotted. Surprise is important,” Max informed them. “This is the only way to get to where we want to be.”
Half an hour later, their backs were stiff. They all longed to stretch themselves upright.
“This is Bo Peep,” Isabel’s voice sounded in their ears over their radio system. “The sheep have been rounded up. Repeat. Bo Peep has found her sheep.”
A few moments later, Kyle’s voice followed Isabel’s.
“Little boy blue reporting. The cows are back in the pen and the chickens are out of the corn.”
“He changed that,” Liz giggled. “He was never going to talk about blowing his horn.”
The hushed burst of laughter helped to ease the tension.
“All we need now is for Michael to take control of the center,” Max groaned. “I really need to straighten my spine.”
“It’s not right that you have to sneak into this place like a common thief,” one of the Antarians grumbled.
“Right now,” Max considered. “With all the weaponry on display outside, this is just how I would prefer to make my entrance. I do not want to turn this into a battlefield.”
Time passed and they waited.
“Are you okay, Liz?” Max noticed that she had fallen silent.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “It’s just… so much can go wrong. Not with this mission, Max. I trust our men. I trust that they will do everything to ensure the success of our plan. But afterwards. I’m worried what the aftermath will do to you.”
“As long as I have you by my side, then I will meet whatever comes our way head on. Same as every other problem we’ve met and defeated. Trust me Liz. You and me. Together. Forever.”
“This is Rumplestiltskin,” Michael reported in. “We have control of the spinning wheel.”
“This is it,” a strange feeling crawled through Max. His whole spine tingled while his scalp felt like an army of ants had just marched across it.
Two soldiers scurried up the ladder, and they popped open the hatch. Max and Liz were the last to be brought up, once the soldiers where sure that the corridor had been secured. Liz took a look around and leaned down to her microphone.
“Cinderella and Prince Charming are going to the ball.”
They passed their hands over their black coveralls, transforming them into smart, formal, business suits. With her knee length skirt, Liz wore higher heels than normal to appear the touch more regal. He looked at his watch while soldiers peeled away from the group and headed for entrances to the room beyond. He counted down the seconds with his fingers. When the last one fell, Max reached for the door handle and looked to his men who all nodded.
“Elvis has entered the building,” someone whispered into their transmitter.
“Thank you very much,” Max gave an appropriate lip curl.
With an air of confidence, not in himself, but in those who followed him, Max and Liz strode into the center of the big room as though they owned it. Shocked faces turned to face them. The few security guards inside the room moved to draw their weapons, but found that they were prevented from doing so by a soldier appearing at their side.
“What is the meaning of this?” someone demanded.
Max glanced around the room and noticed that the man standing behind the central podium, the one to whom all others appeared to defer, looked worried. Sarah Brackham, standing beside the television camera, gave him the thumbs up as she continued to relay her words to a watching worldwide audience.
“I apologize for the intrusion,” Max nodded at the man. “But I have something to say.”
Max approached the podium, and indicated that the man in authority who had been standing there should take a step back. He turned to face the assembled audience, and then the camera. Sarah gave him the thumbs up that indicated he was speaking to a very special audience. He took a deep breathe, sought out Liz’s calming gaze, and started.
“When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But when I became a man, I put away childish things.” He paused and looked around the room and waited for that undetermined signal he knew would come to let him know everyone understood. In the translator’s rooms, Max had no doubt Isabel was in control of things and the delegates were hearing his words. Although many in this room were not Christian, they were all educated and had doubtless come across the expression many times.
“Actually,” he continued. “I can never remember a time when I was able to be a child. I became a man the day I was found, a naked six year old boy, along with my sister, alone in the desert. I knew that I had to protect her, and myself.”
Liz looked up at her husband, giving him a sad frown. She had never really considered that Max’s childhood had ended the day he had found out that he and Isabel were different. She smiled at him reminded him that she was with him. In mind, body and spirit.
“I’m here to tell you that it is time for you to put away your childish things. Ladies and Gentlemen, representatives of the United Nations,” Max looked at the camera. “People of Earth. It’s time for the Nations of this planet to grow up. My name is Max Evans.” He looked at his audience as he pulls himself as upright as he could. “I’m… I’m not from around here.”
* * *
First Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians,
Bible, 1 Corinthians 13, verse 11
When I was a child, I spake as a child,
I understood as a child, I thought as a child:
but when I became a man, I put away
childish things. For now we see through a
glass, darkly; but then face to face: now
I know in part; but then shall I know even
as also I am known.
spake: spoke (past tense of "to speak" - old-style English)
The two shapes lay huddled together in the strange bed, in the strange room of the strange motel in the strange city. The only thing not strange was the position they found themselves in. Like a couple of spoons, Liz lay with her back pressed against Max’s chest and stomach. His arms were wrapped around her, pulling her into a protective cocoon.
“It feels strange, doesn’t it?” she asked, her voice on the edge of a whisper.
“What does?” Max replied in a low tone to match hers.
“Being apart from our friends, right before such a… a big day.”
“Yeah,” Max nodded in the dark. “Precautions we’ve never had to take before, Liz. With all the security that’s been added around here, we can’t risk that one of us might be spotted. At least this way, if one of us is, we don’t risk the whole operation.”
“Unless it’s you,” Liz mumbled.
Max just agreed with a nod of his head. They fell silent, listening to the traffic on the road outside.
“After tomorrow,” Liz spoke at last, “it’s all going to be different.”
“Do you regret what we’re doing?” Max’s voice betrayed his concern.
“No,” Liz spoke with conviction. She held her breath for a moment and then slowly exhaled. “It’s just…” Liz twisted her body, held in Max’s arms, so that she could look at him. Their faces were millimeters away. “Max? When is this ever going to be about you and me? Everything we’ve done, it’s always about duty, or… or…”
“I don’t think it ever will, Liz,” Max nuzzled his mouth against Liz cheek, seeking out her sensitive earlobe. “I mean, no matter what happens tomorrow, no matter how it all turns out, I’ll either be dead or…”
“Don’t say that, Max,” Liz pulled her hand out from between them and pressed it to Max’s mouth breathing in her ear. Worry and concern laced every syllable, as though his words might be a premonition of the worst kind.
“Or I’ll be this… I don’t know. Figure head, scapegoat… something. The thing is, Liz. So will you. You’ll be right up there with me, only some might see you as something… worse. I mean, this is a country that still vilifies Benedict Arnold.”
“I know,” Liz sighed.
“You never signed up to any of this when we got married last year,” Max’s voice seemed tense. “We were just these… kids… on the run. Doing good deeds and avoiding the law, remember? But now? Now, I’m a king again. A leader. And as my wife, you’ll be looked up to, respected or heated along with me. If this is too much for you to take, I’ll…” There was a catch in his voice. “I’ll understand.”
Liz sucked in her breath, ready to answer him, but Max interrupted.
“Before you say anything,” he reached back over himself and into his bag on the floor beside him. “I want you to listen to this. I heard it the other day, the first time for ages. I, uh… borrowed it from the soldier.” A shiny disk in Max’s hands reflected the little available light. The room filled with music.
Look into my eyes - you will see
What you mean to me
Search your heart - search your soul
And when you find me there you'll search no more
Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for
You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for
You know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you
Look into my heart - you will find
There's nothin' there to hide
Take me as I am - take my life
I would give it all I would sacrifice
Don't tell me it's not worth fightin' for
I can't help it there's nothin' I want more
Ya know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you
There's no love - like your love
And no other - could give more love
There's nowhere - unless you're there
All the time - all the way
Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for
I can't help it there's nothin' I want more
I would fight for you - I'd lie for you
Walk the wire for you - Ya I'd die for you
Ya know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you
“I’m not going anywhere, Max,” Liz wrapped her arms around him and pulled his face into her bosom. “Not unless you’re there with me.”
“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that,” Max smiled against her white breasts.
He placed a tender kiss against the warm flesh. His lips traced a line along her soft mound, up her neck, over her chin and finding her lips at last. Yet, in spite of their love for one another, this was as much as they could rise to.
“We have a busy day tomorrow,” Liz placed a sensuous kiss on his lips. “We’d better get some sleep.”
“Yeah,” Max agreed, knowing that he would not be sleeping that night. Not when everything he had ever struggled to attain was about to be thrown with one roll of fate’s dice.
* * *
It was s pleasant surprise to find that the freeway was clear of traffic as the man dressed in the dark suit drove his large Japanese car to work that morning. Although he worked in the city, he preferred to live out of town, even if it did mean that he had an hours drive there in the morning and another back each evening. Possessing an important job as a head of security at a famous – not to mention politically important – building that he put up with the inconvenience that his commute gave over the peace and tranquility that his country retreat afforded him. Many of his neighbors had asked him how he could stand the pressure. His hand sought out the reassuring bulge of his Magnum 44, nestled in his shoulder holster, reminding him that the military and political might of his country lay behind him. Promotion, he knew, was just around the corner. Something bigger, and better. Responsible for the building, he hoped that one day soon, he would look after those inside the building instead. One day, who knew? Perhaps, the big man himself. Or woman, he admitted. That day was only around the corner.
Because he was not concentrating fully on the few vehicles around him, he did not spot the flashing red and blue lights until they were right behind him. He shook his head as he lifted the indicator stalk and started to slow down.
“Damn rookies!” he growled, anger burning his words.
The cold air bit into his face as he rolled his window down as one of the policemen approached him, a pad and pen in his hand.
“Do you know who I am?” he demanded of the policeman.
“Yes, sir,” the officer nodded. “You are a man who was doing sixty five in a fifty five limit."
“No way,” the man shook his head. “You go back there and check with your superiors. I think you’ll find you have made a mistake.”
“Would you mind stepping out of the car, sir?”
“I’ll have your job for this!” he barked, reaching inside his jacket for his ID.
Beside him, a gun appeared in the policeman’s hand.
“You hold it right there,” he ordered.
He lifted his hand away, and moved it up.
“Open you jacket, sir,” the policeman ordered.
“Look, you buffoon, I am…”
“Open your jacket, sir!” The gun clicked beside him.
He was aware that the second policeman was now aiming his gun at him from the other side. He decided that it would be better to comply with these imbeciles and sort everything out downtown, rather than risk a bullet from these nervous rookies. He lifted his jacket, revealing his pistol. The first officer reached in and took the gun out of his holster.
“Now step out of the car,” he opened the door, still holding the gun on him.
He stepped out into the cold air and grunted as the policeman spun him around and slapped the cold handcuffs to his wrists. The other policeman was beside him now, and together, they searched him thoroughly. He thought it strange when neither policeman seemed to care about the large letters stamped across his ID. One of the policemen simply slipped everything into his pockets, his gun, his ID, his badge and his radio cell phone. He was led to the police car and once ensconced into the secure rear interior, watched as the second policeman drove his car away,
* * *
The second policeman watched the car as it continued up the freeway. Using the access point further along the road, it made a U-turn onto the opposite lane and drove back in the other direction. He climbed into the arrested man’s car, started the engine, and pulled out onto the freeway. A bright blue light lit the car’s interior and as it dulled, the form of the arrested man was once again driving to work. Less than an hour later, he turned up the main road that led past his destination. He peered through the window at the impressive building, and smiled at the present flags. At the security gates, a guard emerged from the small building next to the lowered barrier.
“Morning, sir,” the guard nodded as he checked the offered ID card and badge. Even though this was his boss, and he had known the man for ten years, he would follow the strict procedure that had long been laid down. “Running a little late this morning?”
“I got held up on the freeway,” the man grinned.
“Well, everyone’s in,” the guard handed the ID back. “Promises to be a momentous day, huh?”
“I’ll say,” he grinned.
He drove the car to the parking bay that had the number he knew was allocated to him, and parked the car.
“This is Jack,” he spoke into a small microphone in his lapel. “The beanstalk has been planted.”
* * *
Seth, the aging janitor, pushed his trolley filled with cleaning equipment along the marbled hallways, attending to any little tasks his experienced eye deemed necessary. He had been doing this same job for twenty-two years, and had perfected his routine to a fine art. He stopped by a telephone, hanging in a sound absorbing hood and pulled a sanitizing spray and cloth from one of his trolley’s drawers. True, this phone might not be one of the politically sensitive ones; this phone might not be used to pass on important information, this was only a public telephone but never-the-less, there were standards to uphold. Lifting the handset, he prayed the two ends with his spray, and then started to wipe the whole thing with the cloth. When he realized that he could not hear a dial tone, he held it to his ear while he flicked the ‘disconnect’ button a few times. Nothing. Seth shrugged, hung up the phone and pushed his trolley back down the corridor to his office. He knew that although he could wait to report the fault, these things were best resolved when he found them. Never put off today what you could do tomorrow, he grinned at his father’s wise words. Words he had passed on to his own children. He picked up his own phone, and punched out the memorized number.
“Yeah, hello,” he spoke at the operator’s answer. “I’m calling to report a faulty phone. The number? Yeah. It’s five five five, three seven nine one. No, not really. Not urgent at all, but with a day like today, we gotta be prepared, you know? Really? Right away? Cool. Thanks a lot. Appreciate it.”
* * *
The guard in the small gatehouse watched as the telephone repair van pulled to a halt just in front of the barrier that blocked its progress. One of the guards emerged from the warm shelter, carrying a clipboard in his gloved hands.
“I got a call requesting the repair of one of your phones,” the driver informed the guard, showing him the identity cards that hung around his neck.”
“You have a requisition?” the guard checked the photo on the ID against the drivers face.
“Uh huh,” he nodded. “Right here.” He handed the guard a pink sheet of paper.
The guard took the sheet, checked the number of the form against his clipboard and ticked off a row on his job sheet. He slid the pink sheet to the back of his pile of papers. At a nod from the guard, two more emerged from the gatehouse. One carried a long pole to which a mirror had been fixed. While he used this to check the van’s underside, the other opened the back door. At last, their security checks were complete and the barrier was raised. The telephone repair mechanic was waved in. The man nodded, and drove toward a door at the back of the main building. He backed up to the door. When he had opened this door, he also opened the door to his van. After checking to make sure that he was unobserved, he looked into the van and nodded. Two men, invisible only moments before, seemed to appear from the thin walls of the van. A blue light filled the interior and exact duplicates of two of the gate guards appeared in their place. The telephone repair man watched them as they slipped into bushes to head for the gatehouse.
“This is Aladdin. The Genie is out of the lamp.”
He turned to find the janitor.
* * *
Beverly Craven stepped from the crowded bus and huddled her coat against the chill wind that whipped across the open landscape. She started the walk from the bus stop toward the imposing building where she worked. Her ginger hair was pulled into a tight bun, and oval spectacles sat on the slightly flat nose. She was short and slightly overweight. Relying on public transport as she did, she was always early, so she had developed the habit of stopping at Starbucks on the corner where a cup of coffee and toffee muffin would take residence in her thighs. And other places. It had become a daily ritual that would start her on the right foot for her day at the office. Especially on cold days like today. As she sat at the window, watching the morning rush hour, an attractive blond woman sat beside her, sipping her latte.
“Morning,” the blonde nodded to her.
“Morning,” Beverly nodded back.
“Cold, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. But it’s been colder.”
“I’ll say. I’ve seen you here before. Do you work somewhere around here?”
“Up there,” Beverly nodded tat he building.
“Wow!” the blonde looked impressed. “Really? I’m impressed.”
“Oh, it’s nothing important,” Beverly quickly shook her head. “I work as a translator.”
“Wow. Really? So which languages do you speak. Other than English, I mean.”
“Uhm, French, Italian and, uh, Spanish.”
“Impressive,” the blonde raised her eyebrows. “So do you…”
“I do,” Beverly smiled. They always wanted to know if she ever saw secret stuff.
“If I was fluent in another language, how easy would it be to find employment there? I always thought how exciting it would be to work in a job like that. I mean, I know you can’t talk about it or anything, but you must hear so many interesting things that the rest of us don’t. You know?”
“Yeah,” Beverly nodded. “We hear some things that you could definitely say was… interesting. But then, it’s not all the time. This week, for example, I have the misfortune of being on standby. I’ll only hear what’s going on if one of the others don’t turn up.”
“Misfortune?” the other woman frowned. “How so?”
“Well, with all these silly rumors of aliens and stuff.”
Beverly tried to laugh the comment off but there was a nervous shadow in her eyes. She glanced at her watch. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I have to go.”
The woman got up with her.
“Would you mind if I tag along? I’m heading up past that way too.”
“Sure.”
Together, they stepped out of the warmth of Starbucks and into the cold wind.
“So how do I go about finding work there? I mean, seriously.”
“Well, first, you have to take a language fluency test. Then, assuming you pass that, there are the political tests and psychological tests and the…”
“Test tests?”
“Yeah,” Beverly grinned. “I could get you an application if you like.”
“But there’s an easier way, right?”
“Easier?” she frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“I could just… take your place.”
Beverly started to giggle.
“Right,” she looked the attractive blonde up and down. “Do you know what safety procedures they have in place? You’d not only have to have my looks, but my finger prints and my retina scan.”
“That can all be arranged.”
Beverly turned to look at her companion. Her jaw dropped as she saw, standing there facing her, a mirror image of herself. The whole visage went hazy as she tried to decipher what it was that she was looking at. Set to overload, she couldn’t handle it. She fainted. A car pulled up beside them, and she was pulled into the interior. Someone inside took her identification and her cell phone, and handed them to the shape-shifted version of the woman still standing outside. The car pulled away, taking Beverly Craven to the luxury hotel that had been commandeered to be a temporary prison for these… prisoners of war.
“This is Goldilocks. I’m in the bear’s house.”
The new Beverly continued on her way.
* * *
Like the telephone engineer’s van before it, the big, white van pulled up outside of the security gates at the back entrance. It stopped just short of the barrier that blocked its way. A guard holding a clipboard emerged to check it out. He glanced at the legend on the side that proclaimed it to be a mobile unit for a local, independent news channel. He shook his head as he approached the window. The window rolled down.
“Can I see some ID,” he peered at the two passengers inside.
Two identity cards were thrust at him.
“So,” he read the names from them both. “How did you swing this, Miss Brackham. The only news agency allowed in today.”
“Friends in high places,” she shrugged. “My producer was owed a favor from some big shot in Hollywood, who was owed a favor by some politician… You get the picture?”
“Sure do,” he grinned while looking at the other passenger’s ID. “Wheels within wheels. Here you go Miss Brackham,” he handed the card back to her. “Mr. King,” The guard nodded to her companion. He turned to the other two guards checking the vehicle. “Is it all clear back there?”
“All clear,” the other two guards looked into the back of the television van. Amid the cameras sat two dozen people, dressed in black, carrying automatic weapons. The two groups nodded to each other.
“All clear,” they smiled at each other.
“In you go, Miss Brackham,” the guard raised the barrier. “Remember that you can’t broadcast anything ‘till you get the go ahead, and you have to leave before the start of the big meeting.”
“Got it.”
“Though, I think I can safely say that what you hear today will change your life.”
“Not mine,” Sarah winked at Max as they drove through the gates.
The guard watched the van drive toward the building.
“I can’t believe they let the press in today,” he shrugged. “Man. I need a holiday.”
“Somewhere luxurious?” one of his colleagues smiled as he stepped up beside him.
“Somewhere where you could just sit around doing nothing all day but relax?”
“Why not take the rest of the day off and do just that?”
“Sounds perfect. Except we have to see to the safety of all these important people. Who’s gonna oversee the day’s roster?”
Another man joined them.
“Why don’t I do it?” he asked.
The guard’s jaw dropped when he looked at himself. A small prick in his neck followed by blackness ended his part in the day’s activities. Moments later, three vans rolled up, and through the raised barriers. Men emerged from the vans and disappeared into the building’s interior.
“The seven dwarves are in the cottage.”
* * *
They climbed out from the back of the television van. The last to emerge were Isabel, Jesse, Connie, Kyle, Michael, Maria and Liz. She rushed to Max’s side as he appeared from the front. Their hands joined at once.
“So far, so good,” he nodded at everyone. “You all know what you have to do. Let’s do it.”
“It’s not too late to abort, Max,” Isabel cast him a look of sympathy. She knew what this day would cost Max.
“No,” Max shook his head. He looked at Liz. “I have to do this. It’s not just my lifestyle at stake anymore. We’re talking about the future of this planet.”
Isabel nodded, and waved at her soldiers. With Jesse at her side, she turned toward the corridor that pointed to the administration offices.
Two of the soldiers, the radio operators, went to assist Sarah with the television equipment. It was these two who were keeping the various teams coordinated with the others. Their radio sets were part of the TV cameras. The three of them started to assemble the trolley to carry everything.
“Well, good luck,” Kyle turned back to the exit. He and Connie led their men toward the back entrances where their job was to prevent reinforcements.
Michael walked up to Max, shook his hand. He turned and hugged Liz.
“Good luck, man,” he smiled.
He made no motion to those men allocated to him. As he turned away to head for the central security rooms, his men – the bulk of the forces available - followed. Maria hung back while she hugged Max. She then hugged Liz.
“Watch out for Max,” she whispered in her ear. “’Cause I already know he’ll be watching out for you.”
Liz grinned and watched Maria as she scurried away after Michael.
“Well,” Max sighed. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Why are we crawling through this service tunnel like a bunch of rats?” a voice complained from the back.
They were walking through a narrow tunnel, bent over almost double.
“Until Michael has control of the security system, we can’t afford to be spotted. Surprise is important,” Max informed them. “This is the only way to get to where we want to be.”
Half an hour later, their backs were stiff. They all longed to stretch themselves upright.
“This is Bo Peep,” Isabel’s voice sounded in their ears over their radio system. “The sheep have been rounded up. Repeat. Bo Peep has found her sheep.”
A few moments later, Kyle’s voice followed Isabel’s.
“Little boy blue reporting. The cows are back in the pen and the chickens are out of the corn.”
“He changed that,” Liz giggled. “He was never going to talk about blowing his horn.”
The hushed burst of laughter helped to ease the tension.
“All we need now is for Michael to take control of the center,” Max groaned. “I really need to straighten my spine.”
“It’s not right that you have to sneak into this place like a common thief,” one of the Antarians grumbled.
“Right now,” Max considered. “With all the weaponry on display outside, this is just how I would prefer to make my entrance. I do not want to turn this into a battlefield.”
Time passed and they waited.
“Are you okay, Liz?” Max noticed that she had fallen silent.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “It’s just… so much can go wrong. Not with this mission, Max. I trust our men. I trust that they will do everything to ensure the success of our plan. But afterwards. I’m worried what the aftermath will do to you.”
“As long as I have you by my side, then I will meet whatever comes our way head on. Same as every other problem we’ve met and defeated. Trust me Liz. You and me. Together. Forever.”
“This is Rumplestiltskin,” Michael reported in. “We have control of the spinning wheel.”
“This is it,” a strange feeling crawled through Max. His whole spine tingled while his scalp felt like an army of ants had just marched across it.
Two soldiers scurried up the ladder, and they popped open the hatch. Max and Liz were the last to be brought up, once the soldiers where sure that the corridor had been secured. Liz took a look around and leaned down to her microphone.
“Cinderella and Prince Charming are going to the ball.”
They passed their hands over their black coveralls, transforming them into smart, formal, business suits. With her knee length skirt, Liz wore higher heels than normal to appear the touch more regal. He looked at his watch while soldiers peeled away from the group and headed for entrances to the room beyond. He counted down the seconds with his fingers. When the last one fell, Max reached for the door handle and looked to his men who all nodded.
“Elvis has entered the building,” someone whispered into their transmitter.
“Thank you very much,” Max gave an appropriate lip curl.
With an air of confidence, not in himself, but in those who followed him, Max and Liz strode into the center of the big room as though they owned it. Shocked faces turned to face them. The few security guards inside the room moved to draw their weapons, but found that they were prevented from doing so by a soldier appearing at their side.
“What is the meaning of this?” someone demanded.
Max glanced around the room and noticed that the man standing behind the central podium, the one to whom all others appeared to defer, looked worried. Sarah Brackham, standing beside the television camera, gave him the thumbs up as she continued to relay her words to a watching worldwide audience.
“I apologize for the intrusion,” Max nodded at the man. “But I have something to say.”
Max approached the podium, and indicated that the man in authority who had been standing there should take a step back. He turned to face the assembled audience, and then the camera. Sarah gave him the thumbs up that indicated he was speaking to a very special audience. He took a deep breathe, sought out Liz’s calming gaze, and started.
“When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But when I became a man, I put away childish things.” He paused and looked around the room and waited for that undetermined signal he knew would come to let him know everyone understood. In the translator’s rooms, Max had no doubt Isabel was in control of things and the delegates were hearing his words. Although many in this room were not Christian, they were all educated and had doubtless come across the expression many times.
“Actually,” he continued. “I can never remember a time when I was able to be a child. I became a man the day I was found, a naked six year old boy, along with my sister, alone in the desert. I knew that I had to protect her, and myself.”
Liz looked up at her husband, giving him a sad frown. She had never really considered that Max’s childhood had ended the day he had found out that he and Isabel were different. She smiled at him reminded him that she was with him. In mind, body and spirit.
“I’m here to tell you that it is time for you to put away your childish things. Ladies and Gentlemen, representatives of the United Nations,” Max looked at the camera. “People of Earth. It’s time for the Nations of this planet to grow up. My name is Max Evans.” He looked at his audience as he pulls himself as upright as he could. “I’m… I’m not from around here.”
* * *
First Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians,
Bible, 1 Corinthians 13, verse 11
When I was a child, I spake as a child,
I understood as a child, I thought as a child:
but when I became a man, I put away
childish things. For now we see through a
glass, darkly; but then face to face: now
I know in part; but then shall I know even
as also I am known.
spake: spoke (past tense of "to speak" - old-style English)
Last edited by WR on Fri Jan 09, 2004 4:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
WR
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 388
- Joined: Sat Oct 13, 2001 10:22 am
- Location: Somewhere over England
Part 73
In all the years of the United Nations and the turmoil it had witnessed, nothing had caused as much confusion as Max’s rather ambiguous statement. They had all turned away to ask one another who this intruder was. Max waited for the commotion to die down and return to face him. That was when he hit them with his bomb shell.
“With the rumors of the approaching space ship, there’s been a lot of speculation about us lately. I’m here to tell you that at least some of what they say about me is true.” Max paused. “I am an alien.”
The silence hung heavy in the air. Max surveyed the people, all looking at him as though he was a demented terrorist.
“So is my sister, Isabel, and my best friend, Michael. The three of us originate from a planet millions of light years away, called Antar”
Amusement and concern flurried around the room. A few of the more senior delegates started to titter at him. More joined them and soon, the titters turned to chuckles. It was not long before the room was roaring with laughter. A heavy grating sound came from the door through which Max and the others had appeared. Tallen was pushing a five foot length of stone pillar from the hallway into the room. The room fell silent again as the delegates watched Tallen push the pillar to Max. Max looked around at the curious faces and smiled. With a pass of his hands, the pillar, shimmered, and instead of a rock tower, there stood a stone statue of the man he had moved from the podium, the Secretary General of the United Nations. The laughter ceased.
“When I was six,” he started again. “I, my sister, and my best friend emerged from… you could call them incubation pods. We were alone, we were naked, and we had no idea who… or what we were. Although my friend was afraid and hid on their arrival, two amazingly wonderful people found us. The adopted my sister and I and raised us as their own. After all, why should they not just consider us to be two normal children? They fed us, clothed us and taught us the rudimentary behavior that should have been with us from birth. They ‘were’ our parents, whether they had given birth to us or not, and we love them for it. Once we were reunited with Michael, our friend, it was the three of us again. By then, we had realized that we were… different. We did whatever it took to keep our secret. Hiding in plain sight became a familiar expression in those days, never doing anything to attract any undue attention. And so it remained until one fateful day when something happened to cause me to abandon the years of secrecy. Something I deemed so terrible, it was worth the risk of exposure, and… everything that came with it.”
Max paused for dramatic effect. He waited for the translators under Isabel’s eye to catch up.
“I was having breakfast in the local diner,” Max stared off into the distance as he recalled that day so long ago. “There were these two… I don’t know. Two guys who looked kinda rough. Anyway, they started arguing about something. A gun was produced, and in the struggle, they… accidentally shot at Liz.” Max held his hand up at the statue and pushed out with his mind. The statue moved away from him. “I uh… saved her. But she found out. She had known I did something to her. Then, she found out why. You see, I had fallen in love with Liz the first time I had seen her, when I was just eight years old. Too young, many have laughed. How could a child know about love? But I was no longer a child, remember? I had long ago put away my childish things. So I broke our most sacred pact, saved Liz’s life and put our own at risk. Not only did Liz find out that I did something… special, so too did someone else. It was a direct result of my actions that led to the eventual attempt on our lives, and our flight to safety. Selfless, you may say? No. Selfish. You see, I couldn’t let her die. She was the reason I had the strength to live the way I did. If keeping my secret meant that she could live a normal life, then it was worth it. But how could I live with myself when I allowed that same secret to just let her… die? Liz took the news surprisingly well, and became my… our friend. Others soon followed as, out of necessity, they became privy to our secret. Maria, Jim, Kyle and Jesse soon followed.” A shadow passed Max’s eyes. “There were others, too. People whose lives I had touched, and who in return, touched mine back. One friend, a great friend, lost his life because of this secret.”
Max waited a moment, composing himself while he allowed his audience to absorb his words. Liz gazed into his eyes, allowing him to garner strength from her love and trust in him. He took another deep breath and continued.
“A few months ago, I became the leader of a small army of dedicated professionals. An army. Not to be lead against any government, but against a common foe. We’ve been fighting against… alien forces who seek not only my death, but the subjugation of this planet. Side by side, with both human, and alien allies, we have been fighting a covert battle. Until now, it has been a battle that we have been winning. The reason for my visit to you today is to confirm the rumor. An alien spaceship is on its way to Earth. It contains a sizeable army that my meager forces cannot hope to defeat. Their leader, a man named Kivar, seeks to secure his position on the throne of Antar, as well as to plunder the wealth and resources of Earth to enable him on his future conquests. I will not allow either of those to happen. I had hoped that a meeting with the President of the United States of America would bring the military might of my adoptive country to assist me in the defense of the planet. The meeting proved to be a trap. Forest, it seemed, wanted to capture me to use for his own ends. That’s why I’m here today. I need help. Help to protect your planet, our home and the people, including my family and friends. In return, I will see that Earth receives help in the future, help that will not only safeguard its future but improve the plight of the billions of citizens who suffer from Mother Nature’s whims. I will not allow access to any technology that would give one nation any advantage over another, like Forest wanted. He sought to control me, as others have done for their own benefit. I am not here to wield power, nor to help others wield it. I have no desire to rule anyone. I am here to see my enemies, and yours are defeated. After that, I want to live as normal a life as my circumstances will allow.”
Max looked at the circle of benches, his eyes flitting from one face to another. A hand was raised.
“Yes?” Max pointed at the representative from Nigeria.
“Mr. Evans,” he began.
“Max,” Max grinned.
“Max,” the delegate nodded. “You say that you are an alien, yet, to us, you and your colleagues look remarkably human. You must have looked human when you were children, otherwise your adoptive parents would have noticed something different about you. Your school friends, too, must not have noticed any differences. You must have aged appropriately, too. Are we to assume that on your planet, your species has evolved in the exact way we have?”
“When I say that I am alien,” Max hesitated a little, “that’s not totally true. I am actually a hybrid. I have human DNA, genetically modified to allow my alien… essence to reside in it. I have a human bone structure, human organs, a human pulmonary system… and I definitely have human emotions. To all intents and purposes, I am human. Like Shakespeare’s Shylock, if you cut me, I’ll bleed. My blood is rather different, but it’s still red. I just have these… additional abilities. As for the people from my planet, they would normally look very much different. They have taken human shapes so that you would not feel threatened by them. Think of it as a kind of space suit.”
Another hand was raised. Max nodded at the woman from New Zealand, letting her ask her question.
“Why exactly would this… Kivar seek to destroy you? What threat is it that you pose to a planet that you say is very far from here?”
Max swallowed hard. Here was one thing he had wished to keep secret, but to do so might risk planting the suspicion that what he was hiding was worse than it was. Better the truth now and the consequences later.
“There was a civil war on my planet,” Max sighed. “Kivar sought to supplant the King, and rule in his stead through force of arms. A coup d’etat. During the struggle, the king, his wife, his second in command and his sister were all murdered. Those loyal to… the leadership managed to create clones of human bodies, using DNA that they had… uhm… acquired. They transferred the souls of those dead leaders into the cloned bodies, and sent them to Earth for safe keeping, where they might mature, one day to return and free them from Kivar. Kivar needs me dead so that any opposition to his taking complete control will dissolve. As long as I am alive, the resistance will continue.” Max started to grin. “As you can imagine, I prefer that option to Kivar’s.”
“So, Mr. Ev… Max,” the German delegate called. “Exactly which role did you play? You mentioned a king, and a second in command. Might we surmise from the fact that it is you who addresses us that we are currently being spoken to by… Royalty?”
Max shifted from one foot to the other while staring at the podium.
“To those who still follow me on my planet,” Max nodded, “I am considered to be their king. But as far as you are considered, I am just…”
Max was not allowed to finish.
“So, Your Majesty,” the Spanish diplomat rose and bowed. Many of the other delegates copied him. “I take it that the attractive young lady who’s eyes watch you with so much love was and is your wife.” He looked around at the other’s in Max’s group. “And your sister and second in command?”
“My sister, Isabel, Michael, my second in command, and my other friends are taking care of security,” Max nodded. “Our security, I mean. We didn’t know how we might be received, so we have taken steps to ensure that we don’t end up having to fight our way through the halls. We have no intention of hurting anyone. As for the attractive young lady,” Max held his arm out to Liz. “Yes. This is my wife, but she was not my wife on my home planet. This is Liz. Liz Evans.”
“The girl whose life you saved?”
“That is correct.”
“Wait,” the American delegate called out. He held his hand up. “This is the woman whose life you saved?”
“Yes,” Max nodded. He had been warned about this person. He was very much Forest’s man.
“And she’s totally human? I mean, she was conceived of human parents and born naturally?”
“Yes,” Max narrowed his eyes.
“And you are married? How natural is that? And is it even legal?”
“Last time I looked,” Max shrugged, “I was still a citizen of the United States. I hold a legal driver’s license and I have a social security number. If I had been allowed to see the end of the graduation ceremony, I would have a high school diploma. So why wouldn’t I be allowed to marry Liz? As for natural… If you can explain to me why it would unnatural for two people in love to marry, please do so.”
“But you said yourself. You are an alien.”
“What is your point?” Max stared at him. “I also said I was human.”
“But…”
“Look,” Max raised his voice, but without anger. “I have not come to discuss the finer points of human emotions. I am in love with Liz. Liz is in love with me. It affects no one but ourselves. Live with it. I have come here today to discuss…”
“But how do we know?”
“Excuse me?”
“How do we know that Liz loves you? I mean, it’s easy for you to say it, but…”
“I do,” Liz shouted above the delegate. She stepped up to the podium. “I love this man more than… than my own life. I doubt that you could ever come close to understanding, but what Max and I have goes beyond love. It’s like we share a soul.”
“Two hearts beating as one,” Max nodded.
“Very poetic, I’m sure,” the American sneered. “How do we know that you aren’t controlling her mind?”
Liz started to laugh, and looked up at Max to inform him that she would answer the man.
“My Grandmother, an incredibly wise woman, once told me to follow my heart. I’m doing just that. So you could say that my heart is in control of my mind. And as Max owns my heart and soul, I guess you could say that yes, Max controls my mind.”
Max smiled, and looked down at Liz.
“Liz has controlled my heart since the day I first saw her.” He looked directly at his adversary. “So you could almost say that it is she who controls my mind.”
The rest of the delegation started to laugh.
“Mr Evans,” the British delegate called from above the laughter. “As a member of the Security Council, and a representative of Her Majesty’s government, I am duty bound not to form an opinion until we,” he indicated the others, “the United Nations have had a chance to discuss this, and as protocol expects, hold a vote upon a resolution.”
There were murmurs of agreement throughout the hall as delegates nodded at the speaker’s wisdom.
“But as a human being and a citizen of the planet Earth, my own feelings compel me to say…” he looked around at all the assembled representatives. “What do you need? I for one would like do whatever I can to assist you, but what is it exactly that you want?”
Max looked at the faces that stared at him, filled with expectation.
“I want to live in peace. I want to come home from a day’s work to greet my wife and discuss our day. I want to raise a family, to spend time with my friends and relatives. I want to grow old with Liz. Mr. Secretary General,” Max turned to face him. “I want normal. But all of that may not even be possible, with or without your help. But why I am speaking to you today is because Kivar is on his way. We are few but we will still fight him. We will not surrender ourselves, or this planet to him. Members of the United Nations, I want help. Help to defend your… our planet from my enemy. Our enemy. I cannot nor will I compel you to help. I only hope that you will look into your conscience, vote upon your resolution, and find that as human beings, you are able to do so.”
Max had never been sure how he would be received by the United Nations, but a standing ovation had never once featured in his imagination. That was what happened, as almost to a man, the delegates rose and wildly applauded him. From around the hall, those soldiers who followed Max watched with pride. From a window high above the congregation, Isabel looked down upon her brother with pride. Michael watched the security monitor that had focused upon Max with pride. Kyle, Connie, Maria, Jesse and all the others beamed with pride at the noise they heard from Max’s applause. From behind the camera, Sarah Brackham gave him a thumbs up, pride shining in her eyes. Hundreds of miles away, four sets of parents watched a television set at the back of the Crashdown Café with pride. Standing beside her husband, basking in the glow of the admiration he had won from a cynical body of men and woman who had thought they had seen it all, Liz stared at him with something else. Yes, it was pride, and yes, it was love. Mingled amidst the love and admiration that she felt for her soul mate was another feeling. A feeling that she had long held in the secrecy of her own soul. A feeling that she had believed in for such a long time. If the world had ever found out what a wonderful soul Max Evans possessed, then what a wonderful world this would be.
* * *
In the depths of a nondescript tenement building somewhere in a run down suburb of Washington DC, one man did not feel pride in the man that he was watching on the television. It was a feeling closer to a kind of fear. Fear that his usefulness to a president who had faked his death so that he might operate covertly on a mission that would not now offer him anything. Baurline knew that his days, if not his hours, were numbered. He didn’t stop to turn anything off. Neither did he bother to gather his possessions or lock the door behind him. Instead, he scurried out into the streets. With an eye over his shoulder, he melted into the crowd and made his way to bus station. In the left luggage section, he went to one of the large lockers. One of the large lockers was held with a combination lock, rather than the standard key style. Baurline twisted the combination in and opened the locker. He pulled out the suitcase that had sat inside for more than five years. This was Steve Baurline’s new identity. A person did not work for the FBI for most of his life without learning a trick or two from the lowlifes he had hunted. With a last look over his shoulder, ex-FBI agent Steve Baurline disappeared into the public washrooms. Jose Perez, an itinerate worker from Tijuana, Mexico, emerged in his place.
* * *
While Max had felt his throat constrict as the emotion he had used to get him through this had finally overflowed, Major Armstead stepped up to his side and guided him to Liz’s arms. He returned to the podium, waiting for the applause to die down.
“My name is not important,” he finally spoke. “But I am not an alien.”
He waited for the chuckling to die down.
“I am one of the many men who have been helping Max in the fight of our would be invaders. We who follow him do so with our eyes open. We knew what we had let ourselves in for. Right now, many of you might be looking at Max and seeing images of green Martians. But let me tell you. To see Max with his friends, with his family,” he looked down at the entwined couple. “With Liz…” He broke into a gentle smile. “You would see him for what he is. You would see a caring, compassionate human being. If you could see the concern and sympathy he showed for the men who were wounded or the family of those who had lost loved ones, you would understand. If you could look past the fact that he is part alien and see the young man still in his teens, then you need to see him leading men who have willingly followed him into two battles, with bravery and intelligence, and then out again. Max is a rare commodity. He is a leader who cares. Admiral qualities we humans would love to see in our own leaders. But Max is not your leader. He is ours, because we chose to support him in this task. Though he doesn’t want the power, he has wielded it wisely and sparingly. He could have run a long time ago. He has had access to a space ship to make his escape, yet he chose to stay and help fight for our freedom. How will you repay him?”
* * *
In all the years of the United Nations and the turmoil it had witnessed, nothing had caused as much confusion as Max’s rather ambiguous statement. They had all turned away to ask one another who this intruder was. Max waited for the commotion to die down and return to face him. That was when he hit them with his bomb shell.
“With the rumors of the approaching space ship, there’s been a lot of speculation about us lately. I’m here to tell you that at least some of what they say about me is true.” Max paused. “I am an alien.”
The silence hung heavy in the air. Max surveyed the people, all looking at him as though he was a demented terrorist.
“So is my sister, Isabel, and my best friend, Michael. The three of us originate from a planet millions of light years away, called Antar”
Amusement and concern flurried around the room. A few of the more senior delegates started to titter at him. More joined them and soon, the titters turned to chuckles. It was not long before the room was roaring with laughter. A heavy grating sound came from the door through which Max and the others had appeared. Tallen was pushing a five foot length of stone pillar from the hallway into the room. The room fell silent again as the delegates watched Tallen push the pillar to Max. Max looked around at the curious faces and smiled. With a pass of his hands, the pillar, shimmered, and instead of a rock tower, there stood a stone statue of the man he had moved from the podium, the Secretary General of the United Nations. The laughter ceased.
“When I was six,” he started again. “I, my sister, and my best friend emerged from… you could call them incubation pods. We were alone, we were naked, and we had no idea who… or what we were. Although my friend was afraid and hid on their arrival, two amazingly wonderful people found us. The adopted my sister and I and raised us as their own. After all, why should they not just consider us to be two normal children? They fed us, clothed us and taught us the rudimentary behavior that should have been with us from birth. They ‘were’ our parents, whether they had given birth to us or not, and we love them for it. Once we were reunited with Michael, our friend, it was the three of us again. By then, we had realized that we were… different. We did whatever it took to keep our secret. Hiding in plain sight became a familiar expression in those days, never doing anything to attract any undue attention. And so it remained until one fateful day when something happened to cause me to abandon the years of secrecy. Something I deemed so terrible, it was worth the risk of exposure, and… everything that came with it.”
Max paused for dramatic effect. He waited for the translators under Isabel’s eye to catch up.
“I was having breakfast in the local diner,” Max stared off into the distance as he recalled that day so long ago. “There were these two… I don’t know. Two guys who looked kinda rough. Anyway, they started arguing about something. A gun was produced, and in the struggle, they… accidentally shot at Liz.” Max held his hand up at the statue and pushed out with his mind. The statue moved away from him. “I uh… saved her. But she found out. She had known I did something to her. Then, she found out why. You see, I had fallen in love with Liz the first time I had seen her, when I was just eight years old. Too young, many have laughed. How could a child know about love? But I was no longer a child, remember? I had long ago put away my childish things. So I broke our most sacred pact, saved Liz’s life and put our own at risk. Not only did Liz find out that I did something… special, so too did someone else. It was a direct result of my actions that led to the eventual attempt on our lives, and our flight to safety. Selfless, you may say? No. Selfish. You see, I couldn’t let her die. She was the reason I had the strength to live the way I did. If keeping my secret meant that she could live a normal life, then it was worth it. But how could I live with myself when I allowed that same secret to just let her… die? Liz took the news surprisingly well, and became my… our friend. Others soon followed as, out of necessity, they became privy to our secret. Maria, Jim, Kyle and Jesse soon followed.” A shadow passed Max’s eyes. “There were others, too. People whose lives I had touched, and who in return, touched mine back. One friend, a great friend, lost his life because of this secret.”
Max waited a moment, composing himself while he allowed his audience to absorb his words. Liz gazed into his eyes, allowing him to garner strength from her love and trust in him. He took another deep breath and continued.
“A few months ago, I became the leader of a small army of dedicated professionals. An army. Not to be lead against any government, but against a common foe. We’ve been fighting against… alien forces who seek not only my death, but the subjugation of this planet. Side by side, with both human, and alien allies, we have been fighting a covert battle. Until now, it has been a battle that we have been winning. The reason for my visit to you today is to confirm the rumor. An alien spaceship is on its way to Earth. It contains a sizeable army that my meager forces cannot hope to defeat. Their leader, a man named Kivar, seeks to secure his position on the throne of Antar, as well as to plunder the wealth and resources of Earth to enable him on his future conquests. I will not allow either of those to happen. I had hoped that a meeting with the President of the United States of America would bring the military might of my adoptive country to assist me in the defense of the planet. The meeting proved to be a trap. Forest, it seemed, wanted to capture me to use for his own ends. That’s why I’m here today. I need help. Help to protect your planet, our home and the people, including my family and friends. In return, I will see that Earth receives help in the future, help that will not only safeguard its future but improve the plight of the billions of citizens who suffer from Mother Nature’s whims. I will not allow access to any technology that would give one nation any advantage over another, like Forest wanted. He sought to control me, as others have done for their own benefit. I am not here to wield power, nor to help others wield it. I have no desire to rule anyone. I am here to see my enemies, and yours are defeated. After that, I want to live as normal a life as my circumstances will allow.”
Max looked at the circle of benches, his eyes flitting from one face to another. A hand was raised.
“Yes?” Max pointed at the representative from Nigeria.
“Mr. Evans,” he began.
“Max,” Max grinned.
“Max,” the delegate nodded. “You say that you are an alien, yet, to us, you and your colleagues look remarkably human. You must have looked human when you were children, otherwise your adoptive parents would have noticed something different about you. Your school friends, too, must not have noticed any differences. You must have aged appropriately, too. Are we to assume that on your planet, your species has evolved in the exact way we have?”
“When I say that I am alien,” Max hesitated a little, “that’s not totally true. I am actually a hybrid. I have human DNA, genetically modified to allow my alien… essence to reside in it. I have a human bone structure, human organs, a human pulmonary system… and I definitely have human emotions. To all intents and purposes, I am human. Like Shakespeare’s Shylock, if you cut me, I’ll bleed. My blood is rather different, but it’s still red. I just have these… additional abilities. As for the people from my planet, they would normally look very much different. They have taken human shapes so that you would not feel threatened by them. Think of it as a kind of space suit.”
Another hand was raised. Max nodded at the woman from New Zealand, letting her ask her question.
“Why exactly would this… Kivar seek to destroy you? What threat is it that you pose to a planet that you say is very far from here?”
Max swallowed hard. Here was one thing he had wished to keep secret, but to do so might risk planting the suspicion that what he was hiding was worse than it was. Better the truth now and the consequences later.
“There was a civil war on my planet,” Max sighed. “Kivar sought to supplant the King, and rule in his stead through force of arms. A coup d’etat. During the struggle, the king, his wife, his second in command and his sister were all murdered. Those loyal to… the leadership managed to create clones of human bodies, using DNA that they had… uhm… acquired. They transferred the souls of those dead leaders into the cloned bodies, and sent them to Earth for safe keeping, where they might mature, one day to return and free them from Kivar. Kivar needs me dead so that any opposition to his taking complete control will dissolve. As long as I am alive, the resistance will continue.” Max started to grin. “As you can imagine, I prefer that option to Kivar’s.”
“So, Mr. Ev… Max,” the German delegate called. “Exactly which role did you play? You mentioned a king, and a second in command. Might we surmise from the fact that it is you who addresses us that we are currently being spoken to by… Royalty?”
Max shifted from one foot to the other while staring at the podium.
“To those who still follow me on my planet,” Max nodded, “I am considered to be their king. But as far as you are considered, I am just…”
Max was not allowed to finish.
“So, Your Majesty,” the Spanish diplomat rose and bowed. Many of the other delegates copied him. “I take it that the attractive young lady who’s eyes watch you with so much love was and is your wife.” He looked around at the other’s in Max’s group. “And your sister and second in command?”
“My sister, Isabel, Michael, my second in command, and my other friends are taking care of security,” Max nodded. “Our security, I mean. We didn’t know how we might be received, so we have taken steps to ensure that we don’t end up having to fight our way through the halls. We have no intention of hurting anyone. As for the attractive young lady,” Max held his arm out to Liz. “Yes. This is my wife, but she was not my wife on my home planet. This is Liz. Liz Evans.”
“The girl whose life you saved?”
“That is correct.”
“Wait,” the American delegate called out. He held his hand up. “This is the woman whose life you saved?”
“Yes,” Max nodded. He had been warned about this person. He was very much Forest’s man.
“And she’s totally human? I mean, she was conceived of human parents and born naturally?”
“Yes,” Max narrowed his eyes.
“And you are married? How natural is that? And is it even legal?”
“Last time I looked,” Max shrugged, “I was still a citizen of the United States. I hold a legal driver’s license and I have a social security number. If I had been allowed to see the end of the graduation ceremony, I would have a high school diploma. So why wouldn’t I be allowed to marry Liz? As for natural… If you can explain to me why it would unnatural for two people in love to marry, please do so.”
“But you said yourself. You are an alien.”
“What is your point?” Max stared at him. “I also said I was human.”
“But…”
“Look,” Max raised his voice, but without anger. “I have not come to discuss the finer points of human emotions. I am in love with Liz. Liz is in love with me. It affects no one but ourselves. Live with it. I have come here today to discuss…”
“But how do we know?”
“Excuse me?”
“How do we know that Liz loves you? I mean, it’s easy for you to say it, but…”
“I do,” Liz shouted above the delegate. She stepped up to the podium. “I love this man more than… than my own life. I doubt that you could ever come close to understanding, but what Max and I have goes beyond love. It’s like we share a soul.”
“Two hearts beating as one,” Max nodded.
“Very poetic, I’m sure,” the American sneered. “How do we know that you aren’t controlling her mind?”
Liz started to laugh, and looked up at Max to inform him that she would answer the man.
“My Grandmother, an incredibly wise woman, once told me to follow my heart. I’m doing just that. So you could say that my heart is in control of my mind. And as Max owns my heart and soul, I guess you could say that yes, Max controls my mind.”
Max smiled, and looked down at Liz.
“Liz has controlled my heart since the day I first saw her.” He looked directly at his adversary. “So you could almost say that it is she who controls my mind.”
The rest of the delegation started to laugh.
“Mr Evans,” the British delegate called from above the laughter. “As a member of the Security Council, and a representative of Her Majesty’s government, I am duty bound not to form an opinion until we,” he indicated the others, “the United Nations have had a chance to discuss this, and as protocol expects, hold a vote upon a resolution.”
There were murmurs of agreement throughout the hall as delegates nodded at the speaker’s wisdom.
“But as a human being and a citizen of the planet Earth, my own feelings compel me to say…” he looked around at all the assembled representatives. “What do you need? I for one would like do whatever I can to assist you, but what is it exactly that you want?”
Max looked at the faces that stared at him, filled with expectation.
“I want to live in peace. I want to come home from a day’s work to greet my wife and discuss our day. I want to raise a family, to spend time with my friends and relatives. I want to grow old with Liz. Mr. Secretary General,” Max turned to face him. “I want normal. But all of that may not even be possible, with or without your help. But why I am speaking to you today is because Kivar is on his way. We are few but we will still fight him. We will not surrender ourselves, or this planet to him. Members of the United Nations, I want help. Help to defend your… our planet from my enemy. Our enemy. I cannot nor will I compel you to help. I only hope that you will look into your conscience, vote upon your resolution, and find that as human beings, you are able to do so.”
Max had never been sure how he would be received by the United Nations, but a standing ovation had never once featured in his imagination. That was what happened, as almost to a man, the delegates rose and wildly applauded him. From around the hall, those soldiers who followed Max watched with pride. From a window high above the congregation, Isabel looked down upon her brother with pride. Michael watched the security monitor that had focused upon Max with pride. Kyle, Connie, Maria, Jesse and all the others beamed with pride at the noise they heard from Max’s applause. From behind the camera, Sarah Brackham gave him a thumbs up, pride shining in her eyes. Hundreds of miles away, four sets of parents watched a television set at the back of the Crashdown Café with pride. Standing beside her husband, basking in the glow of the admiration he had won from a cynical body of men and woman who had thought they had seen it all, Liz stared at him with something else. Yes, it was pride, and yes, it was love. Mingled amidst the love and admiration that she felt for her soul mate was another feeling. A feeling that she had long held in the secrecy of her own soul. A feeling that she had believed in for such a long time. If the world had ever found out what a wonderful soul Max Evans possessed, then what a wonderful world this would be.
* * *
In the depths of a nondescript tenement building somewhere in a run down suburb of Washington DC, one man did not feel pride in the man that he was watching on the television. It was a feeling closer to a kind of fear. Fear that his usefulness to a president who had faked his death so that he might operate covertly on a mission that would not now offer him anything. Baurline knew that his days, if not his hours, were numbered. He didn’t stop to turn anything off. Neither did he bother to gather his possessions or lock the door behind him. Instead, he scurried out into the streets. With an eye over his shoulder, he melted into the crowd and made his way to bus station. In the left luggage section, he went to one of the large lockers. One of the large lockers was held with a combination lock, rather than the standard key style. Baurline twisted the combination in and opened the locker. He pulled out the suitcase that had sat inside for more than five years. This was Steve Baurline’s new identity. A person did not work for the FBI for most of his life without learning a trick or two from the lowlifes he had hunted. With a last look over his shoulder, ex-FBI agent Steve Baurline disappeared into the public washrooms. Jose Perez, an itinerate worker from Tijuana, Mexico, emerged in his place.
* * *
While Max had felt his throat constrict as the emotion he had used to get him through this had finally overflowed, Major Armstead stepped up to his side and guided him to Liz’s arms. He returned to the podium, waiting for the applause to die down.
“My name is not important,” he finally spoke. “But I am not an alien.”
He waited for the chuckling to die down.
“I am one of the many men who have been helping Max in the fight of our would be invaders. We who follow him do so with our eyes open. We knew what we had let ourselves in for. Right now, many of you might be looking at Max and seeing images of green Martians. But let me tell you. To see Max with his friends, with his family,” he looked down at the entwined couple. “With Liz…” He broke into a gentle smile. “You would see him for what he is. You would see a caring, compassionate human being. If you could see the concern and sympathy he showed for the men who were wounded or the family of those who had lost loved ones, you would understand. If you could look past the fact that he is part alien and see the young man still in his teens, then you need to see him leading men who have willingly followed him into two battles, with bravery and intelligence, and then out again. Max is a rare commodity. He is a leader who cares. Admiral qualities we humans would love to see in our own leaders. But Max is not your leader. He is ours, because we chose to support him in this task. Though he doesn’t want the power, he has wielded it wisely and sparingly. He could have run a long time ago. He has had access to a space ship to make his escape, yet he chose to stay and help fight for our freedom. How will you repay him?”
* * *
Last edited by WR on Fri Jan 16, 2004 2:50 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
WR
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 388
- Joined: Sat Oct 13, 2001 10:22 am
- Location: Somewhere over England
Part 74
“Well, Maxwell,” Michael turned from gazing through the bus windows to look back at his leader. “I guess it went well then, huh?”
Max was sitting against the wall of the bus with Liz leaning against him.
“We weren’t arrested,” he shrugged.
“I have to admit,” Isabel called. “I didn’t think we would just walk out of there and get on our bus like that.”
“I thought there would be more people out front,” Connie nodded. “Even the media got caught on the hop.”
“I knew we’d walk free,” Liz smirked. “Who wouldn’t love Max?”
Isabel started to laugh.
“Judging from the looks the young translators were giving Max when he was on the television, Liz, you might regret that.”
“I really thought more people would want to talk to you, though, Max,” Michael leaned forward in his seat. “You know, one on one.”
“There were a few invitations. I even got cornered by someone who tried to speak to me.”
“Who?”
“It doesn’t matter. He wanted to solicit my help to defeat his neighbor. You won’t believe what he promised me.”
“Lots of wives? Camels? Gold?” Kyle questioned Connie’s glare. “What?”
“So when will we hear what the council decides?” Jesse called from his seat.
“Knowing what we know about politics,” Liz shrugged, “probably long after this thing with Kivar is sorted, one way or the other.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Maria rolled her eyes. “You know what? We should have talked to their wives.”
“I can see it now,” Kyle smirked. He turned to face Max. His voice rose several octaves. “Oh no. Kivar’s coming and I don’t have a thing to wear. Does my bum look big in this?”
Kyle twisted to point his backside into the aisle.
“When will he ever learn?” Max whispered in Liz’s ear as Connie hit Kyle across the back of his head.
“I doubt he ever will,” Liz giggled.
“Oh, oh,” Isabel sat up next to Jesse. She pointed out through the back window.
Everyone turned to look at what she had seen. Two traffic policemen on motorcycles were behind them, their lights flashing. Max eased himself from Liz’s side and walked to stand behind Eldugar at the wheel.
“Are they ours?” he asked.
“No,” Eldugar shook his head.
His eyes narrowed with suspicion. Behind him, Max heard the rattling sound of loaded guns being made ready as the soldiers on the bus prepared themselves. They would not go down without a fight.
“No,” he shook his head. “If they’ve come to arrest me, I’ll go quietly.”
“What?” Michael was on his feet.
“I mean it Michael. Pull over Eldugar.”
Eldugar nodded and started to make the maneuver. Everyone on the bus held their breath as they watched the policeman approach Eldugar’s window. He had a notebook in his hand.
“Is there a problem, officer?” Eldugar called out.
“Only if you don’t think that doing…” The officer’s voice dwindled to a halt as he gawked at the young man in front of him. “You. You’re that… you’re Max Evans.”
“Have we met?” Max frowned.
“What? No. Well, not as such. We were just watching you on TV. At the station. I saw you give that speech at the U.N.”
“Oh,” Max nodded. “That.”
“Harry!” the police officer beckoned his colleague. “Harry, come see who it is.”
“Who is it?” his partner called as he approached them.
“Take a look,” he stepped back.
“Some sort of actor or some… Jesus Christ!”
“Wrong,” Kyle laughed from behind Max’s shoulder. “But close.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Trying to make our way to the airport,” Max informed them. “And we’re running kind of late.”
“J.F.K., or La Guardia?”
“No,” Max shook his head. “Teterboro.”
“It’ll take you all day in this traffic,” the policeman warned. “There’s a bridge closed up ahead.”
“Great,” Michael groaned.
“I’ll tell you what,” he offered. “How about we give you an escort? We can call ahead and get some crossroads closed for you. Give you green all the way. We can get you there inside an hour.”
“Really?” Max’s eyes widened. “You’d do that for us?”
“Yeah,” the officer nodded. “My brother’s a ranger. He was sent to Nevada a few months ago. He doesn’t say anything about it, but I know he was involved in something out there. I think… I think you might have saved his life.”
Max remained silent.
“Anyway,” he continued. “I saw you with your girl. I trust you. I think you’ll do what you can to help all of us.”
“Thank you,” Max spoke at last. “I hope the U.N. agrees with you.”
“Listen,” he shrugged. “No matter what they come out with, in the end, you’ll get your help. Remember this. Humanity is about more than borders and flags.”
“Wise words,” Max agreed.
“Let’s get your show on the road.”
The policemen replaced their helmets over their heads, and headed for their motorcycles as they fastened their straps. Five minutes later, they were racing along the freeway being led by two motorcycle policemen.
* * *
“I really can’t believe we’re on our way back to Roswell,” Max shook his head. “And not cloaked in secrecy.”
They sat in a stretch limousine, driven by Eldugar and watched the New Mexico desert rush past. Behind them, a fleet of minibuses carried the soldiers who had accompanied them.
“I know what you mean,” Liz nodded. “It feels kind of strange, though.”
“How do you suppose we’ll be received?” Isabel had been worried about that. Her biggest fear was that people she had known her entire life would not understand why she felt the need to hide as she did. She had images of former friends throwing stones, demanding that the alien monsters leave town.
“We’ll be fine,” Jesse hugged her. “Hey, we’re celebrities. They’ve all probably been interviewed three or four times at least.”
“Making fortunes selling their stories,” Kyle nodded.
“If any one of them says that they slept with any one of us,” Maria growled.
Kyle turned red.
“Listen, everyone,” Max called their attention. “We’re in the public eye now. Everything we say and do will be scrutinized. If Liz hugs another guy…”
“You’ll fry him,” Kyle smirked.
“It’ll be on the front page,” Max glared at him. “Now, I’m not saying ignore everyone or anything. Be yourself, by all means, just… just be careful, that’s all. And remember that there are people out there who care little for truth and morals. If a picture can make them a few bucks, it’s good enough for them.”
“Can I say something, Max?” Jesse raised his hand.
“Yeah,” Max nodded.
“Something else you all need to be aware of. Max represents power, now. As such, there are people who will try to manipulate that. We’ve already seen some extreme cases of that. But there are others who think that they might be able to influence you. And Liz too, because they all know that Max dotes on Liz. So they’ll figure that maybe they can control him through her. So beware of Greeks bearing gifts.”
“Damn,” Kyle swore. “I was counting on making my fortune lining up dates for Liz.”
“You wouldn’t have lived long enough to spend a dime of your first fee,” Liz barked.
“Max,” Eldugar called. “You’d better take a look at this.”
“What?” Max looked out through the front window where Eldugar was pointing. Across the road ahead was a huge banner made of bed sheets sewn together. Hand painted in red letters was the legend “Welcome home Max and Liz.”
“What about the rest of us?” Maria grumbled.
“Look at all the people,” Isabel observed. Beyond the banner, a crowd of people was waiting for them.
“So who spilled the beans?” Michael demanded.
“They’d have had to file a flight plan, Michael,” Connie sighed. “Someone at Teterboro called someone else who called someone else and presto, everyone knows where we’re going.”
Eldugar pulled the car to a stop.
“What’s up?” Michael pushed his way between the others to get to Eldugar’s side. He was in defense mode. “Why did you stop?”
“Do we proceed?” Eldugar looked at Max.
“Max,” Jesse pulled his shoulder. “Normally, I wouldn’t say anything like this, and I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but…”
“No,” Michael shook his head. “No. You can’t be serious!”
“Max is a public figure now, and all these people are waiting for him. If they want to love Max and Liz, let them. It can only help our cause.”
“Do you remember Kennedy?”
“Max has his shield. He has good senses. If it makes you feel any better, we can deploy guards. Have them run alongside the limo like the president has his security guards do.”
“Who’d be stupid enough to run along side a limo in this heat?” Michael demanded.
“All of them,” Isabel nodded her head. “And you know they would, Michael. I agree with Eldugar. Let’s give them what they want.”
“In case no one has noticed,” Liz called above the semi-private discussion. “But our limo is not a convertible.”
“Liz, Liz, Liz, Liz, Liz,” Maria shook her head. “You’re sitting in a car with enough power to reshape the world and you’re worried about a little limo remodeling?”
“Oh yeah,” she giggled.
Michael gave in, but he insisted that the limo was placed in the middle of the convoy. He complained bitterly about the lack of soldiers, but he made only half of them run alongside the limo. The others remained in the buses. They would take it in turns to get some rest, take in water and cool down. No one knew how far they would end up having to run. So it was that a young man who was once likened to John F. Kennedy by one of his friends made his entrance to what he called his home town in a manner that was reminiscent of that great leader. The good thing was, there were no book repositories in Roswell, and neither was there a grassy knoll.
* * *
For all the hectic scenes along the road as friends, acquaintances and total strangers waved at Max and Liz, sitting high up on the top edge of their open topped limo, Main Street was even more chaotic.
“Max! Liz!” they all called as photoflashes popped all along the route.
“Where have all these people come from?” Liz asked. “There must be a million people in town.”
The streets were draped with banners and flags. People waved signs proclaiming their love for one of the group, although Max and Liz were by far the most popular. Photographers and television crews mingled amongst the crowds, catching every second of their journey for posterity. Balloons and ticker tape as well as the smells of fast food filled the air.
“Your dad must be making a fortune,” Maria laughed. “He’ll be the most fashionable restaurant in town. Heck, on the planet.”
“Do you think he’d try to make a quick buck out of this?” Connie widened her eyes.
Liz and Maria looked at each other, and back at the crowds.
“Yes,” they both laughed together.
“Maybe he’ll finally sell all those neck ties,” Max smirked. “There’s going to be a lot of people making money out of us from now on, so why not people we know and love?”
“I bet Brody’s raking it in,” Maria laughed.
“Yeah,” Kyle rolled his eyes. “I bet he’s pissed at Max for not telling him the truth, all the way to the bank.”
“I can’t believe this,” Max continued waving to the crowd. Something light hit him on his chest and dropped. An item of feminine apparel lay across his lap.”
“And I don’t believe this,” Liz flicked the offending article back onto the road.
Max just turned several shades of pink.
* * *
The parade was forced to stop outside the Crashdown Café. A makeshift platform blocked their path. There were even more cameras here then there had been along the street.
“Oh my God,” Isabel groaned. “Look.”
She pointed to one side of the stand where a set of high school bleachers had been erected. Clad in their cap and gowns, most of the class of ’02 – those who could make it at such short notice - were cheering the homecoming with the rest of the town.
On the stand, the mayor, the governor and the assorted members of the Chamber of Commerce had assembled. Their parents stood to one side, looking awkward that they should be there.
“I guess they want us up there,” Max nodded toward the stand. “Someone sure worked hard to set all this up.”
“Let’s get this over with,” Michael growled.
“Hang on,” Max shook his head. He climbed out of the limo and made a point of thanking the men who had run alongside their car. Only then did he lead his family up the steps.
Michael hung back, helping Eldugar to arrange the soldiers who were already forming a barrier between Max and the assembled crowd. Eyes scanned the audience for any sign the their friends might be in danger. Max reached the top of the platform. In the corner, looking uncomfortable, but pleased to see them, were their parents. Max joined the others in smiling their greetings at them.
“Max,” the mayor shook his hand. “Liz, Maria, Isabel, Jesse, Kyle…” He paused at Connie.
“Connie,” someone whispered.
“Connie,” he completed.
Michael climbed the steps to join them. The mayor tried to shake his hand but balked at his hostile glare.
“Welcome home,” the mayor completed.
The crowd erupted into wild applause. While the mayor basked in the good P.R. this was bringing him, someone pushed their way to the front of the stand, holding two strange, gold colored artifacts. Standing in front of a microphone, the mayor waved his hands to signal his request for the crowd’s silence.
“Your Majesty,” he bowed to Max, an action that he did not perform very well.
He handed Max a tacky looking crown that bore all the marks of having been finished only moments ago. Max looked to his friends for help. Liz nudged his arm. She nodded when he cast her a questioning look so he placed the crown on his head. While the applause started again, Max looked as embarrassed as his friends all felt.
“Welcome home,” the mayor repeated. “For your services in proving to the world once and for all that Roswell is the alien capital of the world, we would like to present you with the key to our city. Your city.”
The mayor handed Max an equally tacky, large key.
“Sucks to be Rachel!” the mayor bellowed into the microphone with a clenched fist held aloft.
“Uh,” Max stuttered as the crowd cheered the mayor’s action. “Thank you.” He looked at the crowds. “Thank you. It’s uh… good to be home.” Max waved the key in the air like some legendary sword.
The crowds started to cheer again. When they started to die down, the high school principle stepped up.
“For those of you who remember,” he spoke into the microphone, “some of these… miscreants…” He paused to allow the crowd to laugh at his lame joke. “Missed their graduation ceremony. So…” He nodded to the scarlet clad students. Five of the front row rose, and climbed the steps to the group. They handed caps and gowns to Max, Liz, Maria, Kyle and also to Michael. After they had handed them over, the five gave them a hug. Liz and Maria exchanged stunned looks as Pam Troy hugged Liz like a long lost best friend.
“Don’t ask,” Maria whispered through the side of her mouth.
They pulled the gowns on over their clothes and placed their caps on their heads.
“Maria Deluca,” the principle called out when he saw that they were ready.
Maria stepped forward, feeling more than a little foolish. As the crowds started to applaud, the principle handed her a diploma. Grinning, Maria turned to the crowd and moved the cap’s tassel from one side to the other. She turned to face her mother, waved her diploma at her and stepped back among her friends.
“Kyle Valenti.”
Kyle followed Maria’s actions, acknowledging the crowd’s reaction with a nod of his head and then grinned at his father.
“Michael Guerin.”
Michael could not help the scowl on his face as he saw this for what it was. A publicity stunt. He accepted his diploma but did not wave at the crowd. He knew that he did not graduate.
“Liz Parker, valedictorian.”
Liz didn’t move.
“I’m… I’m ah… sorry,” the principle realized his mistake. His face matched the color of the gowns. “Liz Evans, valedictorian.”
Liz’s applause was accompanied by loud cheers and louder wolf whistles. She accepted her diploma, moved the tassel on her cap and moved directly to her parents. This was as much for them as it was for her. She quickly rejoined her friends, as the principle picked up the last of the diplomas. Even before he could say the name, the noise quadrupled when he leaned into the microphone. Max stepped forward and accepted the diploma. He turned to Liz and smiled.
“That’s one,” he mouthed, knowing that she would never hear him. She understood him, though, as she smiled back at him and nodded.
All five of them, caught up in the mood, threw their caps into the air, accompanied by the caps of the rest of the West Roswell High, class of ‘02.
* * *
In a day of surprises, it was when the governor had his chance to speak that delivered the biggest of them.
“Any nation needs an embassy. And every King must have a palace,” he spoke into the microphone. “And a King living in Roswell, New Mexico is no exception. In fact, I’d say that it was more important than in any… Kingdom. Your Majesty,” he handed a brightly colored envelope to Max. “In that envelope, you will find all of the best properties that are for sale in and around Roswell. If you would like to select the one that suits you and your friends the most, then the state of New Mexico will purchase it for you. It will be your palace, and we hope, the Antarian… is that how you say it? The Antarian Embassy.”
Max opened the parcel. There were a dozen or more sheets of colored paper with details of very large and very expensive houses. Max looked at his friends who started to leaf through the properties. Eldugar looked over Max’s shoulder at the few Max looked at. He whispered into Max’s ear who nodded, agreeing with whatever had been said. Michael held up the most expensive building and grinned.
“This one, Maxwell.”
“Awe, man,” Kyle nodded. “Totally awesome pool.”
“Mr. Governor,” Max stepped up to the microphone. From looking at the tall, thinly haired man, he turned to the crowd. “People of New Mexico. People of Roswell.” He held his arms out wide. “People of the world. Thank you. Thank you very much for these honors you have bestowed upon us today. I doubt that we will forget any of this any time soon. As to your generous offer, I… we thank you. As generous as it is, I’m afraid that I must decline.”
The look of disappointment on his friend’s faces mirrored those on the stand and in the crowd.
“I would, however, still like to have a palace here in Roswell, as well as the Antarian Embassy. But you see, due to rather unique security requirements, I’m afraid that these houses, amazing as they are, are not suitable for the unique needs of the people of Antar. So if it’s at all possible, I would prefer it if you would grant me a plot of land where I might have a palace worthy of Roswell built.”
“That can be arranged,” the Governor nodded. “Did you have any particular areas in mind?”
Max turned to Liz and smiled.
“Vasquez Rocks,” they both said at the same time.
* * *
“Okay,” Kyle snarled when they finally found themselves alone in the air conditioned interior of the Crashdown Café. He had waited with a tense patience for everyone to greet their parents. He could no longer hold his displeasure at Max’s rejection of what he saw was just reward for all that they had endured since Max had turned his world upside down. “Just what the hell were you thinking about out there, El Jefe?”
“Huh?” Max turned from the embrace in which he found himself with Nancy. “What are you talking about, Kyle?”
“The house, you moron. Your ‘palace.’ They offer you your choice of the finest properties in Roswell; pools, saunas, you name it, and what do you choose? Desert. A pile of rocks and barren land. Great.”
“I’m with Valenti on this one, Max,” Michael snarled. “I don’t normally hold with taking handouts, but we sure as hell deserve this.”
“Actually,” Philip looked across to Max, “I was kinda curious about that. What was on your mind, son?”
“What good is one of those fancy houses if Kivar wins?” Max shrugged. “This way, I now have a couple of hundred acres where we can bivouac our small army. Because I own it, I can post guards and keep the civilians out. Technically, that land is now Sovereign Antarian soil, so anything that transpires out there is beyond U.S. Law. As for if and when we defeat Kivar, then we can have a place of our own, built to our own specifications, and probably built better than any other house on this planet. We can build in Antarian security, too. Who knows what bugs and spying devices will have been laced throughout whatever building I chose? Plus, I own all the high ground, too. No one overlooks us. Area 51 without Tickaboo Peak.”
“Oh,” Michael berated himself. Not once had he considered security.
“Someone has to think of things like that,” Max grinned. “Relax guys. You’ll get your pool, though I suggest Michael steers clear of the sauna. Now, let’s see to our army.”
* * *
“Well, Maxwell,” Michael turned from gazing through the bus windows to look back at his leader. “I guess it went well then, huh?”
Max was sitting against the wall of the bus with Liz leaning against him.
“We weren’t arrested,” he shrugged.
“I have to admit,” Isabel called. “I didn’t think we would just walk out of there and get on our bus like that.”
“I thought there would be more people out front,” Connie nodded. “Even the media got caught on the hop.”
“I knew we’d walk free,” Liz smirked. “Who wouldn’t love Max?”
Isabel started to laugh.
“Judging from the looks the young translators were giving Max when he was on the television, Liz, you might regret that.”
“I really thought more people would want to talk to you, though, Max,” Michael leaned forward in his seat. “You know, one on one.”
“There were a few invitations. I even got cornered by someone who tried to speak to me.”
“Who?”
“It doesn’t matter. He wanted to solicit my help to defeat his neighbor. You won’t believe what he promised me.”
“Lots of wives? Camels? Gold?” Kyle questioned Connie’s glare. “What?”
“So when will we hear what the council decides?” Jesse called from his seat.
“Knowing what we know about politics,” Liz shrugged, “probably long after this thing with Kivar is sorted, one way or the other.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Maria rolled her eyes. “You know what? We should have talked to their wives.”
“I can see it now,” Kyle smirked. He turned to face Max. His voice rose several octaves. “Oh no. Kivar’s coming and I don’t have a thing to wear. Does my bum look big in this?”
Kyle twisted to point his backside into the aisle.
“When will he ever learn?” Max whispered in Liz’s ear as Connie hit Kyle across the back of his head.
“I doubt he ever will,” Liz giggled.
“Oh, oh,” Isabel sat up next to Jesse. She pointed out through the back window.
Everyone turned to look at what she had seen. Two traffic policemen on motorcycles were behind them, their lights flashing. Max eased himself from Liz’s side and walked to stand behind Eldugar at the wheel.
“Are they ours?” he asked.
“No,” Eldugar shook his head.
His eyes narrowed with suspicion. Behind him, Max heard the rattling sound of loaded guns being made ready as the soldiers on the bus prepared themselves. They would not go down without a fight.
“No,” he shook his head. “If they’ve come to arrest me, I’ll go quietly.”
“What?” Michael was on his feet.
“I mean it Michael. Pull over Eldugar.”
Eldugar nodded and started to make the maneuver. Everyone on the bus held their breath as they watched the policeman approach Eldugar’s window. He had a notebook in his hand.
“Is there a problem, officer?” Eldugar called out.
“Only if you don’t think that doing…” The officer’s voice dwindled to a halt as he gawked at the young man in front of him. “You. You’re that… you’re Max Evans.”
“Have we met?” Max frowned.
“What? No. Well, not as such. We were just watching you on TV. At the station. I saw you give that speech at the U.N.”
“Oh,” Max nodded. “That.”
“Harry!” the police officer beckoned his colleague. “Harry, come see who it is.”
“Who is it?” his partner called as he approached them.
“Take a look,” he stepped back.
“Some sort of actor or some… Jesus Christ!”
“Wrong,” Kyle laughed from behind Max’s shoulder. “But close.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Trying to make our way to the airport,” Max informed them. “And we’re running kind of late.”
“J.F.K., or La Guardia?”
“No,” Max shook his head. “Teterboro.”
“It’ll take you all day in this traffic,” the policeman warned. “There’s a bridge closed up ahead.”
“Great,” Michael groaned.
“I’ll tell you what,” he offered. “How about we give you an escort? We can call ahead and get some crossroads closed for you. Give you green all the way. We can get you there inside an hour.”
“Really?” Max’s eyes widened. “You’d do that for us?”
“Yeah,” the officer nodded. “My brother’s a ranger. He was sent to Nevada a few months ago. He doesn’t say anything about it, but I know he was involved in something out there. I think… I think you might have saved his life.”
Max remained silent.
“Anyway,” he continued. “I saw you with your girl. I trust you. I think you’ll do what you can to help all of us.”
“Thank you,” Max spoke at last. “I hope the U.N. agrees with you.”
“Listen,” he shrugged. “No matter what they come out with, in the end, you’ll get your help. Remember this. Humanity is about more than borders and flags.”
“Wise words,” Max agreed.
“Let’s get your show on the road.”
The policemen replaced their helmets over their heads, and headed for their motorcycles as they fastened their straps. Five minutes later, they were racing along the freeway being led by two motorcycle policemen.
* * *
“I really can’t believe we’re on our way back to Roswell,” Max shook his head. “And not cloaked in secrecy.”
They sat in a stretch limousine, driven by Eldugar and watched the New Mexico desert rush past. Behind them, a fleet of minibuses carried the soldiers who had accompanied them.
“I know what you mean,” Liz nodded. “It feels kind of strange, though.”
“How do you suppose we’ll be received?” Isabel had been worried about that. Her biggest fear was that people she had known her entire life would not understand why she felt the need to hide as she did. She had images of former friends throwing stones, demanding that the alien monsters leave town.
“We’ll be fine,” Jesse hugged her. “Hey, we’re celebrities. They’ve all probably been interviewed three or four times at least.”
“Making fortunes selling their stories,” Kyle nodded.
“If any one of them says that they slept with any one of us,” Maria growled.
Kyle turned red.
“Listen, everyone,” Max called their attention. “We’re in the public eye now. Everything we say and do will be scrutinized. If Liz hugs another guy…”
“You’ll fry him,” Kyle smirked.
“It’ll be on the front page,” Max glared at him. “Now, I’m not saying ignore everyone or anything. Be yourself, by all means, just… just be careful, that’s all. And remember that there are people out there who care little for truth and morals. If a picture can make them a few bucks, it’s good enough for them.”
“Can I say something, Max?” Jesse raised his hand.
“Yeah,” Max nodded.
“Something else you all need to be aware of. Max represents power, now. As such, there are people who will try to manipulate that. We’ve already seen some extreme cases of that. But there are others who think that they might be able to influence you. And Liz too, because they all know that Max dotes on Liz. So they’ll figure that maybe they can control him through her. So beware of Greeks bearing gifts.”
“Damn,” Kyle swore. “I was counting on making my fortune lining up dates for Liz.”
“You wouldn’t have lived long enough to spend a dime of your first fee,” Liz barked.
“Max,” Eldugar called. “You’d better take a look at this.”
“What?” Max looked out through the front window where Eldugar was pointing. Across the road ahead was a huge banner made of bed sheets sewn together. Hand painted in red letters was the legend “Welcome home Max and Liz.”
“What about the rest of us?” Maria grumbled.
“Look at all the people,” Isabel observed. Beyond the banner, a crowd of people was waiting for them.
“So who spilled the beans?” Michael demanded.
“They’d have had to file a flight plan, Michael,” Connie sighed. “Someone at Teterboro called someone else who called someone else and presto, everyone knows where we’re going.”
Eldugar pulled the car to a stop.
“What’s up?” Michael pushed his way between the others to get to Eldugar’s side. He was in defense mode. “Why did you stop?”
“Do we proceed?” Eldugar looked at Max.
“Max,” Jesse pulled his shoulder. “Normally, I wouldn’t say anything like this, and I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but…”
“No,” Michael shook his head. “No. You can’t be serious!”
“Max is a public figure now, and all these people are waiting for him. If they want to love Max and Liz, let them. It can only help our cause.”
“Do you remember Kennedy?”
“Max has his shield. He has good senses. If it makes you feel any better, we can deploy guards. Have them run alongside the limo like the president has his security guards do.”
“Who’d be stupid enough to run along side a limo in this heat?” Michael demanded.
“All of them,” Isabel nodded her head. “And you know they would, Michael. I agree with Eldugar. Let’s give them what they want.”
“In case no one has noticed,” Liz called above the semi-private discussion. “But our limo is not a convertible.”
“Liz, Liz, Liz, Liz, Liz,” Maria shook her head. “You’re sitting in a car with enough power to reshape the world and you’re worried about a little limo remodeling?”
“Oh yeah,” she giggled.
Michael gave in, but he insisted that the limo was placed in the middle of the convoy. He complained bitterly about the lack of soldiers, but he made only half of them run alongside the limo. The others remained in the buses. They would take it in turns to get some rest, take in water and cool down. No one knew how far they would end up having to run. So it was that a young man who was once likened to John F. Kennedy by one of his friends made his entrance to what he called his home town in a manner that was reminiscent of that great leader. The good thing was, there were no book repositories in Roswell, and neither was there a grassy knoll.
* * *
For all the hectic scenes along the road as friends, acquaintances and total strangers waved at Max and Liz, sitting high up on the top edge of their open topped limo, Main Street was even more chaotic.
“Max! Liz!” they all called as photoflashes popped all along the route.
“Where have all these people come from?” Liz asked. “There must be a million people in town.”
The streets were draped with banners and flags. People waved signs proclaiming their love for one of the group, although Max and Liz were by far the most popular. Photographers and television crews mingled amongst the crowds, catching every second of their journey for posterity. Balloons and ticker tape as well as the smells of fast food filled the air.
“Your dad must be making a fortune,” Maria laughed. “He’ll be the most fashionable restaurant in town. Heck, on the planet.”
“Do you think he’d try to make a quick buck out of this?” Connie widened her eyes.
Liz and Maria looked at each other, and back at the crowds.
“Yes,” they both laughed together.
“Maybe he’ll finally sell all those neck ties,” Max smirked. “There’s going to be a lot of people making money out of us from now on, so why not people we know and love?”
“I bet Brody’s raking it in,” Maria laughed.
“Yeah,” Kyle rolled his eyes. “I bet he’s pissed at Max for not telling him the truth, all the way to the bank.”
“I can’t believe this,” Max continued waving to the crowd. Something light hit him on his chest and dropped. An item of feminine apparel lay across his lap.”
“And I don’t believe this,” Liz flicked the offending article back onto the road.
Max just turned several shades of pink.
* * *
The parade was forced to stop outside the Crashdown Café. A makeshift platform blocked their path. There were even more cameras here then there had been along the street.
“Oh my God,” Isabel groaned. “Look.”
She pointed to one side of the stand where a set of high school bleachers had been erected. Clad in their cap and gowns, most of the class of ’02 – those who could make it at such short notice - were cheering the homecoming with the rest of the town.
On the stand, the mayor, the governor and the assorted members of the Chamber of Commerce had assembled. Their parents stood to one side, looking awkward that they should be there.
“I guess they want us up there,” Max nodded toward the stand. “Someone sure worked hard to set all this up.”
“Let’s get this over with,” Michael growled.
“Hang on,” Max shook his head. He climbed out of the limo and made a point of thanking the men who had run alongside their car. Only then did he lead his family up the steps.
Michael hung back, helping Eldugar to arrange the soldiers who were already forming a barrier between Max and the assembled crowd. Eyes scanned the audience for any sign the their friends might be in danger. Max reached the top of the platform. In the corner, looking uncomfortable, but pleased to see them, were their parents. Max joined the others in smiling their greetings at them.
“Max,” the mayor shook his hand. “Liz, Maria, Isabel, Jesse, Kyle…” He paused at Connie.
“Connie,” someone whispered.
“Connie,” he completed.
Michael climbed the steps to join them. The mayor tried to shake his hand but balked at his hostile glare.
“Welcome home,” the mayor completed.
The crowd erupted into wild applause. While the mayor basked in the good P.R. this was bringing him, someone pushed their way to the front of the stand, holding two strange, gold colored artifacts. Standing in front of a microphone, the mayor waved his hands to signal his request for the crowd’s silence.
“Your Majesty,” he bowed to Max, an action that he did not perform very well.
He handed Max a tacky looking crown that bore all the marks of having been finished only moments ago. Max looked to his friends for help. Liz nudged his arm. She nodded when he cast her a questioning look so he placed the crown on his head. While the applause started again, Max looked as embarrassed as his friends all felt.
“Welcome home,” the mayor repeated. “For your services in proving to the world once and for all that Roswell is the alien capital of the world, we would like to present you with the key to our city. Your city.”
The mayor handed Max an equally tacky, large key.
“Sucks to be Rachel!” the mayor bellowed into the microphone with a clenched fist held aloft.
“Uh,” Max stuttered as the crowd cheered the mayor’s action. “Thank you.” He looked at the crowds. “Thank you. It’s uh… good to be home.” Max waved the key in the air like some legendary sword.
The crowds started to cheer again. When they started to die down, the high school principle stepped up.
“For those of you who remember,” he spoke into the microphone, “some of these… miscreants…” He paused to allow the crowd to laugh at his lame joke. “Missed their graduation ceremony. So…” He nodded to the scarlet clad students. Five of the front row rose, and climbed the steps to the group. They handed caps and gowns to Max, Liz, Maria, Kyle and also to Michael. After they had handed them over, the five gave them a hug. Liz and Maria exchanged stunned looks as Pam Troy hugged Liz like a long lost best friend.
“Don’t ask,” Maria whispered through the side of her mouth.
They pulled the gowns on over their clothes and placed their caps on their heads.
“Maria Deluca,” the principle called out when he saw that they were ready.
Maria stepped forward, feeling more than a little foolish. As the crowds started to applaud, the principle handed her a diploma. Grinning, Maria turned to the crowd and moved the cap’s tassel from one side to the other. She turned to face her mother, waved her diploma at her and stepped back among her friends.
“Kyle Valenti.”
Kyle followed Maria’s actions, acknowledging the crowd’s reaction with a nod of his head and then grinned at his father.
“Michael Guerin.”
Michael could not help the scowl on his face as he saw this for what it was. A publicity stunt. He accepted his diploma but did not wave at the crowd. He knew that he did not graduate.
“Liz Parker, valedictorian.”
Liz didn’t move.
“I’m… I’m ah… sorry,” the principle realized his mistake. His face matched the color of the gowns. “Liz Evans, valedictorian.”
Liz’s applause was accompanied by loud cheers and louder wolf whistles. She accepted her diploma, moved the tassel on her cap and moved directly to her parents. This was as much for them as it was for her. She quickly rejoined her friends, as the principle picked up the last of the diplomas. Even before he could say the name, the noise quadrupled when he leaned into the microphone. Max stepped forward and accepted the diploma. He turned to Liz and smiled.
“That’s one,” he mouthed, knowing that she would never hear him. She understood him, though, as she smiled back at him and nodded.
All five of them, caught up in the mood, threw their caps into the air, accompanied by the caps of the rest of the West Roswell High, class of ‘02.
* * *
In a day of surprises, it was when the governor had his chance to speak that delivered the biggest of them.
“Any nation needs an embassy. And every King must have a palace,” he spoke into the microphone. “And a King living in Roswell, New Mexico is no exception. In fact, I’d say that it was more important than in any… Kingdom. Your Majesty,” he handed a brightly colored envelope to Max. “In that envelope, you will find all of the best properties that are for sale in and around Roswell. If you would like to select the one that suits you and your friends the most, then the state of New Mexico will purchase it for you. It will be your palace, and we hope, the Antarian… is that how you say it? The Antarian Embassy.”
Max opened the parcel. There were a dozen or more sheets of colored paper with details of very large and very expensive houses. Max looked at his friends who started to leaf through the properties. Eldugar looked over Max’s shoulder at the few Max looked at. He whispered into Max’s ear who nodded, agreeing with whatever had been said. Michael held up the most expensive building and grinned.
“This one, Maxwell.”
“Awe, man,” Kyle nodded. “Totally awesome pool.”
“Mr. Governor,” Max stepped up to the microphone. From looking at the tall, thinly haired man, he turned to the crowd. “People of New Mexico. People of Roswell.” He held his arms out wide. “People of the world. Thank you. Thank you very much for these honors you have bestowed upon us today. I doubt that we will forget any of this any time soon. As to your generous offer, I… we thank you. As generous as it is, I’m afraid that I must decline.”
The look of disappointment on his friend’s faces mirrored those on the stand and in the crowd.
“I would, however, still like to have a palace here in Roswell, as well as the Antarian Embassy. But you see, due to rather unique security requirements, I’m afraid that these houses, amazing as they are, are not suitable for the unique needs of the people of Antar. So if it’s at all possible, I would prefer it if you would grant me a plot of land where I might have a palace worthy of Roswell built.”
“That can be arranged,” the Governor nodded. “Did you have any particular areas in mind?”
Max turned to Liz and smiled.
“Vasquez Rocks,” they both said at the same time.
* * *
“Okay,” Kyle snarled when they finally found themselves alone in the air conditioned interior of the Crashdown Café. He had waited with a tense patience for everyone to greet their parents. He could no longer hold his displeasure at Max’s rejection of what he saw was just reward for all that they had endured since Max had turned his world upside down. “Just what the hell were you thinking about out there, El Jefe?”
“Huh?” Max turned from the embrace in which he found himself with Nancy. “What are you talking about, Kyle?”
“The house, you moron. Your ‘palace.’ They offer you your choice of the finest properties in Roswell; pools, saunas, you name it, and what do you choose? Desert. A pile of rocks and barren land. Great.”
“I’m with Valenti on this one, Max,” Michael snarled. “I don’t normally hold with taking handouts, but we sure as hell deserve this.”
“Actually,” Philip looked across to Max, “I was kinda curious about that. What was on your mind, son?”
“What good is one of those fancy houses if Kivar wins?” Max shrugged. “This way, I now have a couple of hundred acres where we can bivouac our small army. Because I own it, I can post guards and keep the civilians out. Technically, that land is now Sovereign Antarian soil, so anything that transpires out there is beyond U.S. Law. As for if and when we defeat Kivar, then we can have a place of our own, built to our own specifications, and probably built better than any other house on this planet. We can build in Antarian security, too. Who knows what bugs and spying devices will have been laced throughout whatever building I chose? Plus, I own all the high ground, too. No one overlooks us. Area 51 without Tickaboo Peak.”
“Oh,” Michael berated himself. Not once had he considered security.
“Someone has to think of things like that,” Max grinned. “Relax guys. You’ll get your pool, though I suggest Michael steers clear of the sauna. Now, let’s see to our army.”
* * *
Last edited by WR on Fri Jan 23, 2004 3:03 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
WR
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 388
- Joined: Sat Oct 13, 2001 10:22 am
- Location: Somewhere over England
Part 75
* * *
“What’s it like down there?” Nancy asked Jeff when he returned to their apartment after a quick excursion to the kitchen downstairs for some supplies.
“A zoo,” he shrugged. “We have more journalists than customers right now. Jose’s introduced a minimum charge. It looks like he’s charging them ten bucks apiece for cups of coffee.”
“How can he get away with it?”
“Because they’re preventing paying customers from taking the tables, and they’re all desperately hoping we’ll make an appearance. God knows what questions they’ll ask us this time.”
“If I knew that they would ask sensible questions, I would let them interview us. But talking about my daughter’s sex life is not something I want to do.”
“Tell me about it,” Jeff shook his head. “It’s times like this I wish I had never heard of Max Evans. But then I remember just what our life would be like if he was never here. I will take this over that any day.”
“But why do they have to be so… I wish Sarah was here. We could give her an exclusive and have her syndicate it.”
“Think that would stop them?” he peered through the curtain to the crowds that waited for their chance to eat in the café where it all began. “The vultures would only be hungry for more. Philip’s trying to get a court order.”
“Even if he did, what good would that do? We don’t have enough police to enforce it.”
There was a crash against a window in one of the back rooms. Jeff flew toward the door, closely followed y Nancy. He burst into Liz’s room to see a cameraman filming the room’s interior through the glass.
“Go away!” Jeff yelled. “Before I get my gun and shoot you for trying to rob us.”
“Is that the bed they had sex in, Mr. Parker?” a reporter bellowed. “What do you think of an alien screwing your only daughter?”
“Nancy, get my gun.”
“How many others do you suppose he seduced, Mr. Parker? We have three girls over in Clovis who swear that Max Evans is the father of their children. What are your thoughts about that?”
There were more reporters behind that one. Microphones and cameras soon obscured the people.
“I think it’s time we boarded up and moved out to the base,” Jeff turned to face Nancy as he pulled the curtains closed.
Nancy nodded as he hung a thick blanket over the curtain pole. He returned to the living room and crossed to the phone.
“Hello?” he spoke when some answered. “Roswell Sheriff’s department? This is Jeff Parker. We have ourselves a situation.”
* * *
“Are they still there?” Diane had tried to bury herself in the sofa.
She stared at the television, watching the latest reports about Max and the others.
“Yeah,” Philip allowed the curtain to fall back into place. “Still there. Only there are more than ever. I doubt there’s a single camera left in the U.S. that isn’t here in Roswell.”
“I though you got a restraining order or something.”
“I did,” Philip nodded. “Though the judge was more interested in Max than our rights. The trouble is; those people out there just ignore it. Hanson said he would try to do what he can, but he can’t be everywhere at once. He’s having problems all over town, and not enough funding to get any more deputies.”
“Do you think it’s time to move out to the desert?”
“I think Max might have his own hands full.”
“At least he has all those guards to ensure his privacy.”
“I was thinking about Kivar coming.”
“You know,” Diane frowned. “With all this going on, I can’t help but forget what the real story is. Max has only come home to fight his big battle with Kivar.” There was a catch in her throat. “Oh, Philip. What if… what if…”
“Let’s not worry about that, okay? We need to be strong for Max.”
There was a pounding on the door. They both ignored it.
“You’re right,” Diane sighed. “He doesn’t need to worry about us.”
The pounding on the door was more insistent. Philip rolled his eyes.
“But then again, maybe moving out wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”
“Mr. Evans,” a voice called from the door. “My name is Darren O’Shea. I’m a lawyer, Mr. Evans. I’m afraid that I really must speak to you.”
“Go away, Mr. O’Shea. I have nothing to say. My son doesn’t need another lawyer. He already has two representing him.”
“That’s good, Mr. Evans,” the voice called. “Cause he’s going to need them. I tried to serve him these down where he’s staying but his… goons wouldn’t let me through. They threatened to shoot me if I tried to enter their land.”
“They’d have done it, too, Mr. O’Shea. That piece of desert is beyond your law, now.”
“But your son is not,” he called again. “He claims to be a citizen of the U.S.A. and as such is bound by our laws. Mr. Evans, I really think you should let me in, unless you want all these journalists to hear what I have to say.”
Philip cracked the door open. He peered through the gap to make sure the lawyer was alone. Apart from what appeared to be an assistant, he was. Philip let him in. The man was short, balding, and covered in a sheen of sweat. Philip recognized him for what he was. A slimeball.
“Nice place you got here,” the lawyer was looking around the room as though he was calculating its worth.
“What can I do for you, Mr. O’Shea?”
“I represent a Donna McKenzie of two thirty eight Fontana Drive, Albuquerque.”
“I’m pleased to hear that, Mr. O’Shea.”
O’Shea handed a thick envelope to Philip.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“A paternity suit.”
“Fair enough,” Philips shrugged. “What does this have to do with me?”
“Your son, Mr. Evans, is the father of Jamie Evans, the two year old son of Donna McKenzie”
“Changing the child’s name after the event does not make my son the father,” Philips narrowed his eyes.”
“But certain liberties taken in the back seat of my client’s car, do. My client seeks to receive suitable remuneration that her status as Max Evans’ Queen deserves.”
“Queen?” Philip raised his eyebrows.
“She is the mother to the Crown Prince of Antar. Isn’t that how royalty works?”
“Actually,” Philip shook his head. “No, it isn’t. Besides. You have no proof that she is the mother of my son’s child.”
“We’ll enforce a blood test, Mr. Evans,” he shrugged.
Philip started to laugh.
“You are kidding, right? Didn’t you see his speech, Mr. O’Shea? He said that his blood was different. How long do you think it will take to prove that their blood just doesn’t match?”
“No one knows for sure how the blood mixture will be affected, Mr. Evans. Differences could be explained away. We could keep this trial at the front of every newspaper for years. All that bad publicity. My client understands the situation, however. We realize that right now, your son might not want to be involved in a paternity suit, what with his mind elsewhere, and his desire to keep his good name out of any scandals. So for a sizeable down payment and a comfortable pension, she will waiver any future claim to the throne.”
“No,” Philip shook his head. A thought occurred to him. He started to grin. “It doesn’t work like that on Antar, Mr. O’Shea. See, when Antarians take a mate, it’s for life. If the child really is the Crown Prince of Antar, she not only has to take her place by his side, her son has to take his place on the throne too. So your client will have to accompany me to be with Max, I’m afraid. The young child is bound by their laws too and as such, must be placed on the throne. Of course, I’m sure that in spite of the apparent dangers, they’ll be glad of the benefits. The wealth, the…”
“Dangers?”
“As I said, Mr. O’Shea. If the child is Max’s heir, there will be no danger.”
“What are these ‘dangers’, Mr. Evans?”
“Nothing you should worry about. You see, the throne is like an advanced DNA tester. If the child is not Max’s heir, the throne will execute him and his mother as imposters. It’s a legal thing on their planet. Prevents pretenders to the throne or something like that. But as lawyers, we must see that the law is upheld, right? Especially as your client is so sure of Max’s paternity.”
“Excuse me,” Darren O’Shea bolted from the house.
“That was mean,” Diane laughed. “Too funny, but mean.”
“That should prevent any future claims from gold diggers,” Philip smirked. “He’s going to spread that story around the world. It should make Liz’s life a little more easier, too.”
* * *
“Look who’s here, Max,” Jesse called to Max as he entered his tent.
Max sat at a mahogany table discussing their current status with Michael, Mantik, Major Armstead and Colonel Roberts who was one of the first of the many soldiers to go AWOL, along with the rest of his unit of U.S. Rangers.
“Arthur!” Max grinned when he saw Arthur Carlton step into the interior of the tent. “Come on in.” He crossed the tent to shake his friend’s hand.
“Nice Palace you have here, Max,” Arthur looked around at the very unmilitary surroundings of a tent that looked better suited to an Arabian Nights’ film set.
“It’s a gift from Major Ali Assif Mahoudah, military attaché from the Kuwait embassy. He said that someone of my standing deserved a home worthy of royalty. Of course, he meant Arabian royalty. He turned up last night with twenty Kuwaiti guards.”
“Only twenty?”
“The entire garrison. And they’re not the only ones. We have scores of soldiers making their way to us. All of them deserted their posts. In total, we now have just over twelve hundred soldiers.”
“Then I wish I could have worked faster.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your friend, Cal Langley came to see me.”
“And?” Max looked at him.
“And he not only helped me with the tolerances I was having trouble with, he set up a production line in such a way as to keep the workforce in the dark as to what they were working on.”
“So, you’ve brought me more weapons?”
“One or two?”
“How many, exactly?”
“First things first, Max,” Arthur grinned. “Where’s that lovely wife of yours? Terrie wants to say hello to the both of you and as she’s not military personnel, your guards wouldn’t let her through?”
“Liz is with Isabel and Maria, making sure that all the soldiers have adequate food and shelter. You didn’t leave Terrie at the gate, did you?”
“No,” Arthur laughed. “She’s with your In-Laws at the café. I think she’s being treated to a history tour through the photo albums.”
“Oh, god,” Max shook his head. “Keep her away from my parents.”
“Will do,” he nodded.
“Liz will pop over when she’s finished here, okay? I’m a bit tied up, I’m afraid. Now, how many guns did you bring?”
“Four hundred.”
“Four…” Max’s mouth dropped open. “That’s amazing. How on earth did you manage to make that many?”
“The marvels of a modern production line,” Arthur shrugged. “But that’s not all. Cal helped me to build four canons. He said we can use it to fire at the landing ships. Kivar’s ship will be too high, but the more we shoot on the way down, the less we have to shoot once they get down here.”
“Amen to that,” Kyle nodded.
“Oh, and something that I’m sure you will appreciate. Cal insisted on a few modifications. The circuit boards are rigged so that if the gun is taken more the ten miles away from a central beacon, it will fry. It will also fry if anyone tries to open it up. So no one else can do what I did and reverse engineer it.”
“That was a good idea,” Michael nodded. “The last thing we need is for someone to try to copy Kivar on this planet.”
“You did great, Arthur,” Max agreed. “Thank you.”
* * *
Max stood at the top of the platform that had been erected in front of the Crashdown. The sightseers had returned, but not to witness the homecoming of Max and the others, but because they had caught wind of something special happening. Max had wanted to do this in private, but Jesse, who was fast becoming an expert in P.R. had insisted that this be done in full view of any television crew that wanted to come. This was another opportunity to show the true nature of Max Evans to the world. Sarah was too busy with acting as Max’s representative at the U.N., so had to turn down the opportunity for another scoop.
Beside Max stood Liz; her presence at his side was almost expected. Michael, Mantik - the Antarian Military Commander and Serena stood behind them. At the foot of the steps that led to the stage, the human soldiers who had fought with Max against Nikolas in the Nevada desert and again in the mountains of Oregon stood in parade formation. They wore the ceremonial uniforms of Antarian Royal Guards. While the cameras rolled and the audience watched with baited breath, waiting to see what would happen, Max pulled himself erect, and spoke into the microphone.
“In recognition of the service you have performed in our name and in the name of Antar, we, King Max and Queen Liz of Antar, sovereign rulers by the grace of the Granolith, do hereby decree that all those who have showed such unquestioning loyalty shall have bestowed upon them, an honor that has never before been bestowed upon a non-Antarian. We hereby declare before those witnesses here present, and before the whole world, that the following so called shall henceforth be known and recognized as members of the Antarian Royal Guard. Gentlemen,” Max turned to address his soldiers directly. “When I call your name, please step up and accept your due. Major Matthew Armstead.”
Major Armstead walked up the steps in a military gait. In true parade ground fashion, he snapped to attention in front of Max and saluted. Liz could not help grinning, especially when Armstead winked at her. Barely holding back his own grin, Max saluted back in the manner he had been taught, and pinned a medal, a crest that resembled the two royal seals, to Armstead’s chest. He shook him by the hand, stepped back and saluted again. Armstead finished his salute and turned to face Liz. Before he could salute her, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
“Captain Thomas Fowler,” Max called as Armstead marched away.
And so it went as soldier after soldier marched up when Max called their names, and received their medal and more importantly, to them, their kiss from Liz.
* * *
On an almost hourly basis, busloads of people arrived in Roswell. Outside of the city limits, a small shanty-town of sorts had sprung up. Tents, trailers and R.V.’s had all made their way there, and the town council were kept busy ensuring that the area was adequately watered and provided with suitable sanitation. Those who could not find accommodation at the hotels, or with the many people who had rented out their spare rooms to take advantage of the situation, found themselves buying a tent at best, or a sheet at worst and adding to the makeshift suburb’s population. Most of them had come only to see the infamous Roswell Aliens while some had come to witness the forthcoming battle. Many of the arrivals, however, were soldiers. Soldiers from all nationalities who had deserted their posts had made their way to New Mexico to join Max in his efforts to repel Kivar’s invasion. It had become a full-time job for Michael, Mantik, Armstead, and Colonel Roberts to sort through the recruits. They had to ensure that not only were they taking on men with military training – soldiers weren’t the only ones who wanted to fight – but that they were also here for the right reasons. Many applicants were members of extreme groups, seeking to persuade Max to join their cause. The many militia groups of the American Mid-West had all tried to infiltrate the new army, hoping to gain access to a technology that would give them an edge in their own ambitions. Max was only too aware that if he was seen to be politically involved with any such groups, he would no longer be taken seriously. But still, his numbers grew. Max was gathering his forces.
* * *
“I want the men formed into eight groups,” Max leaned over the map while his officers looked on. “Combat groups, if you like. Mix them up so that we have men experienced with fighting aliens alongside the inexperienced men. Try to keep the same nationalities together, and try not to let any natural enemies mix. Let’s not have our own forces fighting amongst themselves. Give the guns to the Royal guard first, and spread the rest out among the others after. Try to give any training where it’s needed. We don’t have much time left, but make sure that everyone is briefed upon what to expect. I don’t know if Kivar has any Skins with him, so make sure everyone who does not have a laser understands about the seal.”
Around him, men nodded their agreement.
“Do we know where they’ll try to land?” someone called out.
“We have no definite fix, but as I’m sure you are all aware from your own training, it’s best if you know yourself what type of terrain you’ll be landing on. I mean, Eisenhower didn’t pick the beaches at Normandy the day before, right? I suspect that Kivar will land somewhere that he knows about, where he has had as good a description of the terrain as he will ever get. Tess will have told him everything she knew, which was probably a lot. So, I believe that Kivar will land here…” Max stabbed the map with his finger. “At Vasquez rocks.”
“That’s just a few miles up the road,” Armstead observed. “Slap bang in the middle of your new land.”
“All the more reason to defend it, then,” Max grinned.
“So we just gather there and wait?” Michael narrowed his eyes.
“No,” Max shook he head. “I don’t think Kivar would be so stupid as to try to land in a tightly packed group. I think he would try and spread out a little. Stretch our forces. After all, he thinks he has numerical superiority. So, I want to place one group in a protected area at or near each compass point. North, North West, West and so on. We’ll make the command center here. Michael, I want you to stay with me.” Max noted Michael disappointment. “I need someone to help relay messages and orders, as I’m not allowed to be at the front… Place the four cannons onto the backs of a heavy-duty truck or a four by four so we can move them about. I want one at each of the main points. North, South, East and West. Split the airspace into sectors, and worry only about ships in their own sector. If and when a ship lands, I want ground forces to hit them before they can group, but I don’t want them getting too close. Use mortars and long range weapons first. Use the lasers if they get close, as I’m sure they will. Does anyone have any questions?”
“I do,” Roberts raised an arm. “Have you told the women to remain in town?”
“You mean Liz, Isabel, Maria and Connie?”
“I do,” Roberts nodded. “This isn’t going to be like your other battles.”
“I’ll let you tell them, shall I?” Max grinned at Michael.
“Yeah,” Michael nodded. “Only, make sure you let them know we had no part of it, and wait till we’re out of earshot, okay?”
“Max!” a call came from the entrance to his tent. “You need to come and see this.”
The soldier disappeared again. Max exchanged glances with the others before following him. As they emerged from the tent, they saw the soldier by the makeshift mess, beckoning with a wave of his hand. They followed him across and stepped into the room. The raucous calls of the inhabitants silenced. They were all watching the television set.
“What’s going on?” Max asked. “What’s so important that I had to come across?”
“This,” the soldier nodded at the set.
The image on the set was of a podium with the crest of the United States of America on the front of it.
“The President is about to give an address to the nation,” someone told him.
“This should be good,” Michael rolled his eyes. “He’ll probably say that his scientists have conclusive proof that aliens do not exist.”
“Shhh!” someone hissed. “Here he comes.”
President Forest stepped into the room, followed by the camera as he walked up the podium. He shuffled some papers together as an expectant hush fell over the room.
“My fellow Americans,” he began.
“Geez,” Michael groaned. “Can’t someone write him an original opening?”
Forest glanced down at his papers and then back up at the cameras.
“For the past twelve hours, I have been in direct negotiation with the one called Kivar, on board the approaching alien space ship.” He paused for effect.
“Liar,” Mantik whispered from Max’s side. “The Nyelda has been monitoring all transmissions from Kivar’s ship. This man may have been sending messages, but Kivar has not been answering.”
“And I’m here to tell you,” Forest continued “to tell you all, and the world in general, that Kivar is not coming here to conquer. In fact, Kivar has no interest in our planet other than the fact that it is the current home for someone he would very much like to find. Now, I’m sure you all were moved by the remarkable speech made by a young man at the United Nations the other day. And I’m sure that many of you were taken in by his charming demeanor. As I am sure you are aware, many soldiers of almost every nation on the planet have deserted their posts and fled to the side of Max Evans, the self proclaimed King of a distant planet. Fortunately, I was not taken in. I had the presence of mind to question his words.”
Forest looked up at his audience. He stared at the camera.
“Why would an alien civilization place this ‘ essence’ of a member of a royal family into the body of a cloned human being and send him to our planet? What good would that do? What purpose would it serve? It just doesn’t make any sense. So I contacted Kivar to get his side of the story. And you would not believe what I found out. This Max Evans is not a king.”
He paused.
“He’s not even a member of the royal family. He holds no titles at all, at least, official ones.”
There was another pause.
“In actual fact, Max Evans is actively involved in a plot to overthrow the real ruler of the planet, and is seeking assistance from other planets. He is to the planet Antar what Osimi Ban Leden is to us. A terrorist of the worst kind. This Max Evans is responsible for the mass murder of thousands of innocent Antarians. Kivar has found out that he is hiding here and is on his way to conduct his own version of Desert Storm and arrest him. I have received his word that if we hand Max Evans over to him, then he will leave us in peace. Would we not expect the same courtesy should we find that our worst enemy was hiding somewhere? To that end, I implore the military forces that have flocked to this… personification of evil… to do all of mankind a favor. Arrest Max Evans and his companions. Please, bring them to the nearest offices of the F.B.I. to enable us to organize a formal extradition to Kivar so that he may stand trial before his own peers.”
* * *
Code: Select all
DATELINE: January 12th 2003 - - - - - - Washington, D.C. The Pentagon has confirmed reports that whole units of military personnel have been going AWOL (Absent WithOut Leave) since the dramatic speech by young Maxwell Evans at the United Nations Security Council meeting. Although unconfirmed, it is suspected that these missing units have made their way to Roswell, New Mexico, where it is believed that they have offered their services to the Alien King for the forthcoming clash with approaching alien forces. Land recently donated to King Max, is now technically Antarian Sovereign soil and as such, any forces hiding on that land will be beyond the law until they leave. It is wondered if any action will be taken on these men if they take part in the expected battle for the security of our planet. While President Forest vacillates, and while the Security Council are unable to agree on just how they can help, Max Evans and his followers are gathering in Roswell to protect us. If only all leaders would act as responsibly.
It seems that Americans are not the only nationality that have been caught up in the spell that Max and his charming bride, Liz have cast. Foreign Embassies throughout Washington have also admitted that many of their military garrison, ceremonial guards for the most part, but still professional soldiers none the less, have also been deserting their posts. As with the Americans, it is assumed that they are making their way toward Roswell. Reports are also coming in that suggest foreign units have been leaving their own countries and are making their way to New Mexico. It is doubted that many will reach Mr. Evans in time, but this is surely indicative of humanities desire to help Max.
Meanwhile, the United Nations Security Council is still discussing what, if anything, should be done. As yet, no news has been formally released, but rumors have been circulating that suggest someone has been using their veto to prevent any unilateral decision, one way or the other. For the time being, Max Evans looks as though he will be facing this planet’s greatest danger alone, at least, officially.- - - - - - Reuters.“What’s it like down there?” Nancy asked Jeff when he returned to their apartment after a quick excursion to the kitchen downstairs for some supplies.
“A zoo,” he shrugged. “We have more journalists than customers right now. Jose’s introduced a minimum charge. It looks like he’s charging them ten bucks apiece for cups of coffee.”
“How can he get away with it?”
“Because they’re preventing paying customers from taking the tables, and they’re all desperately hoping we’ll make an appearance. God knows what questions they’ll ask us this time.”
“If I knew that they would ask sensible questions, I would let them interview us. But talking about my daughter’s sex life is not something I want to do.”
“Tell me about it,” Jeff shook his head. “It’s times like this I wish I had never heard of Max Evans. But then I remember just what our life would be like if he was never here. I will take this over that any day.”
“But why do they have to be so… I wish Sarah was here. We could give her an exclusive and have her syndicate it.”
“Think that would stop them?” he peered through the curtain to the crowds that waited for their chance to eat in the café where it all began. “The vultures would only be hungry for more. Philip’s trying to get a court order.”
“Even if he did, what good would that do? We don’t have enough police to enforce it.”
There was a crash against a window in one of the back rooms. Jeff flew toward the door, closely followed y Nancy. He burst into Liz’s room to see a cameraman filming the room’s interior through the glass.
“Go away!” Jeff yelled. “Before I get my gun and shoot you for trying to rob us.”
“Is that the bed they had sex in, Mr. Parker?” a reporter bellowed. “What do you think of an alien screwing your only daughter?”
“Nancy, get my gun.”
“How many others do you suppose he seduced, Mr. Parker? We have three girls over in Clovis who swear that Max Evans is the father of their children. What are your thoughts about that?”
There were more reporters behind that one. Microphones and cameras soon obscured the people.
“I think it’s time we boarded up and moved out to the base,” Jeff turned to face Nancy as he pulled the curtains closed.
Nancy nodded as he hung a thick blanket over the curtain pole. He returned to the living room and crossed to the phone.
“Hello?” he spoke when some answered. “Roswell Sheriff’s department? This is Jeff Parker. We have ourselves a situation.”
* * *
“Are they still there?” Diane had tried to bury herself in the sofa.
She stared at the television, watching the latest reports about Max and the others.
“Yeah,” Philip allowed the curtain to fall back into place. “Still there. Only there are more than ever. I doubt there’s a single camera left in the U.S. that isn’t here in Roswell.”
“I though you got a restraining order or something.”
“I did,” Philip nodded. “Though the judge was more interested in Max than our rights. The trouble is; those people out there just ignore it. Hanson said he would try to do what he can, but he can’t be everywhere at once. He’s having problems all over town, and not enough funding to get any more deputies.”
“Do you think it’s time to move out to the desert?”
“I think Max might have his own hands full.”
“At least he has all those guards to ensure his privacy.”
“I was thinking about Kivar coming.”
“You know,” Diane frowned. “With all this going on, I can’t help but forget what the real story is. Max has only come home to fight his big battle with Kivar.” There was a catch in her throat. “Oh, Philip. What if… what if…”
“Let’s not worry about that, okay? We need to be strong for Max.”
There was a pounding on the door. They both ignored it.
“You’re right,” Diane sighed. “He doesn’t need to worry about us.”
The pounding on the door was more insistent. Philip rolled his eyes.
“But then again, maybe moving out wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”
“Mr. Evans,” a voice called from the door. “My name is Darren O’Shea. I’m a lawyer, Mr. Evans. I’m afraid that I really must speak to you.”
“Go away, Mr. O’Shea. I have nothing to say. My son doesn’t need another lawyer. He already has two representing him.”
“That’s good, Mr. Evans,” the voice called. “Cause he’s going to need them. I tried to serve him these down where he’s staying but his… goons wouldn’t let me through. They threatened to shoot me if I tried to enter their land.”
“They’d have done it, too, Mr. O’Shea. That piece of desert is beyond your law, now.”
“But your son is not,” he called again. “He claims to be a citizen of the U.S.A. and as such is bound by our laws. Mr. Evans, I really think you should let me in, unless you want all these journalists to hear what I have to say.”
Philip cracked the door open. He peered through the gap to make sure the lawyer was alone. Apart from what appeared to be an assistant, he was. Philip let him in. The man was short, balding, and covered in a sheen of sweat. Philip recognized him for what he was. A slimeball.
“Nice place you got here,” the lawyer was looking around the room as though he was calculating its worth.
“What can I do for you, Mr. O’Shea?”
“I represent a Donna McKenzie of two thirty eight Fontana Drive, Albuquerque.”
“I’m pleased to hear that, Mr. O’Shea.”
O’Shea handed a thick envelope to Philip.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“A paternity suit.”
“Fair enough,” Philips shrugged. “What does this have to do with me?”
“Your son, Mr. Evans, is the father of Jamie Evans, the two year old son of Donna McKenzie”
“Changing the child’s name after the event does not make my son the father,” Philips narrowed his eyes.”
“But certain liberties taken in the back seat of my client’s car, do. My client seeks to receive suitable remuneration that her status as Max Evans’ Queen deserves.”
“Queen?” Philip raised his eyebrows.
“She is the mother to the Crown Prince of Antar. Isn’t that how royalty works?”
“Actually,” Philip shook his head. “No, it isn’t. Besides. You have no proof that she is the mother of my son’s child.”
“We’ll enforce a blood test, Mr. Evans,” he shrugged.
Philip started to laugh.
“You are kidding, right? Didn’t you see his speech, Mr. O’Shea? He said that his blood was different. How long do you think it will take to prove that their blood just doesn’t match?”
“No one knows for sure how the blood mixture will be affected, Mr. Evans. Differences could be explained away. We could keep this trial at the front of every newspaper for years. All that bad publicity. My client understands the situation, however. We realize that right now, your son might not want to be involved in a paternity suit, what with his mind elsewhere, and his desire to keep his good name out of any scandals. So for a sizeable down payment and a comfortable pension, she will waiver any future claim to the throne.”
“No,” Philip shook his head. A thought occurred to him. He started to grin. “It doesn’t work like that on Antar, Mr. O’Shea. See, when Antarians take a mate, it’s for life. If the child really is the Crown Prince of Antar, she not only has to take her place by his side, her son has to take his place on the throne too. So your client will have to accompany me to be with Max, I’m afraid. The young child is bound by their laws too and as such, must be placed on the throne. Of course, I’m sure that in spite of the apparent dangers, they’ll be glad of the benefits. The wealth, the…”
“Dangers?”
“As I said, Mr. O’Shea. If the child is Max’s heir, there will be no danger.”
“What are these ‘dangers’, Mr. Evans?”
“Nothing you should worry about. You see, the throne is like an advanced DNA tester. If the child is not Max’s heir, the throne will execute him and his mother as imposters. It’s a legal thing on their planet. Prevents pretenders to the throne or something like that. But as lawyers, we must see that the law is upheld, right? Especially as your client is so sure of Max’s paternity.”
“Excuse me,” Darren O’Shea bolted from the house.
“That was mean,” Diane laughed. “Too funny, but mean.”
“That should prevent any future claims from gold diggers,” Philip smirked. “He’s going to spread that story around the world. It should make Liz’s life a little more easier, too.”
* * *
“Look who’s here, Max,” Jesse called to Max as he entered his tent.
Max sat at a mahogany table discussing their current status with Michael, Mantik, Major Armstead and Colonel Roberts who was one of the first of the many soldiers to go AWOL, along with the rest of his unit of U.S. Rangers.
“Arthur!” Max grinned when he saw Arthur Carlton step into the interior of the tent. “Come on in.” He crossed the tent to shake his friend’s hand.
“Nice Palace you have here, Max,” Arthur looked around at the very unmilitary surroundings of a tent that looked better suited to an Arabian Nights’ film set.
“It’s a gift from Major Ali Assif Mahoudah, military attaché from the Kuwait embassy. He said that someone of my standing deserved a home worthy of royalty. Of course, he meant Arabian royalty. He turned up last night with twenty Kuwaiti guards.”
“Only twenty?”
“The entire garrison. And they’re not the only ones. We have scores of soldiers making their way to us. All of them deserted their posts. In total, we now have just over twelve hundred soldiers.”
“Then I wish I could have worked faster.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your friend, Cal Langley came to see me.”
“And?” Max looked at him.
“And he not only helped me with the tolerances I was having trouble with, he set up a production line in such a way as to keep the workforce in the dark as to what they were working on.”
“So, you’ve brought me more weapons?”
“One or two?”
“How many, exactly?”
“First things first, Max,” Arthur grinned. “Where’s that lovely wife of yours? Terrie wants to say hello to the both of you and as she’s not military personnel, your guards wouldn’t let her through?”
“Liz is with Isabel and Maria, making sure that all the soldiers have adequate food and shelter. You didn’t leave Terrie at the gate, did you?”
“No,” Arthur laughed. “She’s with your In-Laws at the café. I think she’s being treated to a history tour through the photo albums.”
“Oh, god,” Max shook his head. “Keep her away from my parents.”
“Will do,” he nodded.
“Liz will pop over when she’s finished here, okay? I’m a bit tied up, I’m afraid. Now, how many guns did you bring?”
“Four hundred.”
“Four…” Max’s mouth dropped open. “That’s amazing. How on earth did you manage to make that many?”
“The marvels of a modern production line,” Arthur shrugged. “But that’s not all. Cal helped me to build four canons. He said we can use it to fire at the landing ships. Kivar’s ship will be too high, but the more we shoot on the way down, the less we have to shoot once they get down here.”
“Amen to that,” Kyle nodded.
“Oh, and something that I’m sure you will appreciate. Cal insisted on a few modifications. The circuit boards are rigged so that if the gun is taken more the ten miles away from a central beacon, it will fry. It will also fry if anyone tries to open it up. So no one else can do what I did and reverse engineer it.”
“That was a good idea,” Michael nodded. “The last thing we need is for someone to try to copy Kivar on this planet.”
“You did great, Arthur,” Max agreed. “Thank you.”
* * *
Max stood at the top of the platform that had been erected in front of the Crashdown. The sightseers had returned, but not to witness the homecoming of Max and the others, but because they had caught wind of something special happening. Max had wanted to do this in private, but Jesse, who was fast becoming an expert in P.R. had insisted that this be done in full view of any television crew that wanted to come. This was another opportunity to show the true nature of Max Evans to the world. Sarah was too busy with acting as Max’s representative at the U.N., so had to turn down the opportunity for another scoop.
Beside Max stood Liz; her presence at his side was almost expected. Michael, Mantik - the Antarian Military Commander and Serena stood behind them. At the foot of the steps that led to the stage, the human soldiers who had fought with Max against Nikolas in the Nevada desert and again in the mountains of Oregon stood in parade formation. They wore the ceremonial uniforms of Antarian Royal Guards. While the cameras rolled and the audience watched with baited breath, waiting to see what would happen, Max pulled himself erect, and spoke into the microphone.
“In recognition of the service you have performed in our name and in the name of Antar, we, King Max and Queen Liz of Antar, sovereign rulers by the grace of the Granolith, do hereby decree that all those who have showed such unquestioning loyalty shall have bestowed upon them, an honor that has never before been bestowed upon a non-Antarian. We hereby declare before those witnesses here present, and before the whole world, that the following so called shall henceforth be known and recognized as members of the Antarian Royal Guard. Gentlemen,” Max turned to address his soldiers directly. “When I call your name, please step up and accept your due. Major Matthew Armstead.”
Major Armstead walked up the steps in a military gait. In true parade ground fashion, he snapped to attention in front of Max and saluted. Liz could not help grinning, especially when Armstead winked at her. Barely holding back his own grin, Max saluted back in the manner he had been taught, and pinned a medal, a crest that resembled the two royal seals, to Armstead’s chest. He shook him by the hand, stepped back and saluted again. Armstead finished his salute and turned to face Liz. Before he could salute her, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
“Captain Thomas Fowler,” Max called as Armstead marched away.
And so it went as soldier after soldier marched up when Max called their names, and received their medal and more importantly, to them, their kiss from Liz.
* * *
On an almost hourly basis, busloads of people arrived in Roswell. Outside of the city limits, a small shanty-town of sorts had sprung up. Tents, trailers and R.V.’s had all made their way there, and the town council were kept busy ensuring that the area was adequately watered and provided with suitable sanitation. Those who could not find accommodation at the hotels, or with the many people who had rented out their spare rooms to take advantage of the situation, found themselves buying a tent at best, or a sheet at worst and adding to the makeshift suburb’s population. Most of them had come only to see the infamous Roswell Aliens while some had come to witness the forthcoming battle. Many of the arrivals, however, were soldiers. Soldiers from all nationalities who had deserted their posts had made their way to New Mexico to join Max in his efforts to repel Kivar’s invasion. It had become a full-time job for Michael, Mantik, Armstead, and Colonel Roberts to sort through the recruits. They had to ensure that not only were they taking on men with military training – soldiers weren’t the only ones who wanted to fight – but that they were also here for the right reasons. Many applicants were members of extreme groups, seeking to persuade Max to join their cause. The many militia groups of the American Mid-West had all tried to infiltrate the new army, hoping to gain access to a technology that would give them an edge in their own ambitions. Max was only too aware that if he was seen to be politically involved with any such groups, he would no longer be taken seriously. But still, his numbers grew. Max was gathering his forces.
* * *
“I want the men formed into eight groups,” Max leaned over the map while his officers looked on. “Combat groups, if you like. Mix them up so that we have men experienced with fighting aliens alongside the inexperienced men. Try to keep the same nationalities together, and try not to let any natural enemies mix. Let’s not have our own forces fighting amongst themselves. Give the guns to the Royal guard first, and spread the rest out among the others after. Try to give any training where it’s needed. We don’t have much time left, but make sure that everyone is briefed upon what to expect. I don’t know if Kivar has any Skins with him, so make sure everyone who does not have a laser understands about the seal.”
Around him, men nodded their agreement.
“Do we know where they’ll try to land?” someone called out.
“We have no definite fix, but as I’m sure you are all aware from your own training, it’s best if you know yourself what type of terrain you’ll be landing on. I mean, Eisenhower didn’t pick the beaches at Normandy the day before, right? I suspect that Kivar will land somewhere that he knows about, where he has had as good a description of the terrain as he will ever get. Tess will have told him everything she knew, which was probably a lot. So, I believe that Kivar will land here…” Max stabbed the map with his finger. “At Vasquez rocks.”
“That’s just a few miles up the road,” Armstead observed. “Slap bang in the middle of your new land.”
“All the more reason to defend it, then,” Max grinned.
“So we just gather there and wait?” Michael narrowed his eyes.
“No,” Max shook he head. “I don’t think Kivar would be so stupid as to try to land in a tightly packed group. I think he would try and spread out a little. Stretch our forces. After all, he thinks he has numerical superiority. So, I want to place one group in a protected area at or near each compass point. North, North West, West and so on. We’ll make the command center here. Michael, I want you to stay with me.” Max noted Michael disappointment. “I need someone to help relay messages and orders, as I’m not allowed to be at the front… Place the four cannons onto the backs of a heavy-duty truck or a four by four so we can move them about. I want one at each of the main points. North, South, East and West. Split the airspace into sectors, and worry only about ships in their own sector. If and when a ship lands, I want ground forces to hit them before they can group, but I don’t want them getting too close. Use mortars and long range weapons first. Use the lasers if they get close, as I’m sure they will. Does anyone have any questions?”
“I do,” Roberts raised an arm. “Have you told the women to remain in town?”
“You mean Liz, Isabel, Maria and Connie?”
“I do,” Roberts nodded. “This isn’t going to be like your other battles.”
“I’ll let you tell them, shall I?” Max grinned at Michael.
“Yeah,” Michael nodded. “Only, make sure you let them know we had no part of it, and wait till we’re out of earshot, okay?”
“Max!” a call came from the entrance to his tent. “You need to come and see this.”
The soldier disappeared again. Max exchanged glances with the others before following him. As they emerged from the tent, they saw the soldier by the makeshift mess, beckoning with a wave of his hand. They followed him across and stepped into the room. The raucous calls of the inhabitants silenced. They were all watching the television set.
“What’s going on?” Max asked. “What’s so important that I had to come across?”
“This,” the soldier nodded at the set.
The image on the set was of a podium with the crest of the United States of America on the front of it.
“The President is about to give an address to the nation,” someone told him.
“This should be good,” Michael rolled his eyes. “He’ll probably say that his scientists have conclusive proof that aliens do not exist.”
“Shhh!” someone hissed. “Here he comes.”
President Forest stepped into the room, followed by the camera as he walked up the podium. He shuffled some papers together as an expectant hush fell over the room.
“My fellow Americans,” he began.
“Geez,” Michael groaned. “Can’t someone write him an original opening?”
Forest glanced down at his papers and then back up at the cameras.
“For the past twelve hours, I have been in direct negotiation with the one called Kivar, on board the approaching alien space ship.” He paused for effect.
“Liar,” Mantik whispered from Max’s side. “The Nyelda has been monitoring all transmissions from Kivar’s ship. This man may have been sending messages, but Kivar has not been answering.”
“And I’m here to tell you,” Forest continued “to tell you all, and the world in general, that Kivar is not coming here to conquer. In fact, Kivar has no interest in our planet other than the fact that it is the current home for someone he would very much like to find. Now, I’m sure you all were moved by the remarkable speech made by a young man at the United Nations the other day. And I’m sure that many of you were taken in by his charming demeanor. As I am sure you are aware, many soldiers of almost every nation on the planet have deserted their posts and fled to the side of Max Evans, the self proclaimed King of a distant planet. Fortunately, I was not taken in. I had the presence of mind to question his words.”
Forest looked up at his audience. He stared at the camera.
“Why would an alien civilization place this ‘ essence’ of a member of a royal family into the body of a cloned human being and send him to our planet? What good would that do? What purpose would it serve? It just doesn’t make any sense. So I contacted Kivar to get his side of the story. And you would not believe what I found out. This Max Evans is not a king.”
He paused.
“He’s not even a member of the royal family. He holds no titles at all, at least, official ones.”
There was another pause.
“In actual fact, Max Evans is actively involved in a plot to overthrow the real ruler of the planet, and is seeking assistance from other planets. He is to the planet Antar what Osimi Ban Leden is to us. A terrorist of the worst kind. This Max Evans is responsible for the mass murder of thousands of innocent Antarians. Kivar has found out that he is hiding here and is on his way to conduct his own version of Desert Storm and arrest him. I have received his word that if we hand Max Evans over to him, then he will leave us in peace. Would we not expect the same courtesy should we find that our worst enemy was hiding somewhere? To that end, I implore the military forces that have flocked to this… personification of evil… to do all of mankind a favor. Arrest Max Evans and his companions. Please, bring them to the nearest offices of the F.B.I. to enable us to organize a formal extradition to Kivar so that he may stand trial before his own peers.”
* * *
Last edited by WR on Sat Jan 31, 2004 3:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
WR
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 388
- Joined: Sat Oct 13, 2001 10:22 am
- Location: Somewhere over England
Part 76
There was a stunned silence in the room. Faces turned to Max, their looks questioning.
“That bastard!” Michael spat. “The two faced lying son of a…”
“Mr. Evans?” one of the foreign soldiers called. “Is there any truth to what he says?”
“No way, man,” one of the Americans responded. Standing upright, he pointed at the television set. “No way is that jackass telling the truth. Max is the real deal, man.”
The rest of the Americans who had already served with Max agreed with him.
“But you’re on his side,” someone objected. “He even gave you a medal. Maybe you’re in on it with him.”
“Yeah,” another called. “Can you prove to us that you are the one who is telling the truth?”
“How can you believe what Forest says?”
“How can we believe what Evans says?”
The mood in the mess was turning ugly. People were starting to choose sides as they shifted to one side of the room or another. Hands were moving toward guns. Max drew in a deep breath and was about to speak when he was interrupted.
“Shhh!” someone called. “They’re asking questions. Let’s hear what he has to say, and then question Mr. Evans later.”
“Yes,” the president pointed to the crowd. “You there.”
“Reginald Baines,” a man’s voice called. “Washington Post. Mr. President. What do you say to the allegations that Max Evans agreed to meet you last week, and you tried to use this meeting to capture him?”
The president held his hand over the microphone while an advisor whispered in his ear.
“Prior to all of this news, if someone approached you claiming to be an alien, and wishing to talk to you, wouldn’t you be concerned? That the man might be a little… deranged? I was worried that he was mentally unstable and being a good Christian, sought to seek medical help for him. At the time, I did not know of his royal claims, nor did I know of his true nature. Yes,” he turned to another journalist.
“Terry Dickerson,” he answered, “CNN. We’ve all seen Max, and his charming wife. I think it’s fair to say that pretty much everyone fell in love with them. What was this Kivar like, and how do you know that he’s the one telling the truth?”
“Not all of us fell in love with them, Terry,” Forest smirked. “But Kivar, he was a man that I could admire. He seemed strong and determined to stamp out terrorism. He reminded me of… well, me. As to telling the truth? You all heard the claims of this Max Evans. Dying? Reborn as a clone? Come on, people. And why else would as advanced a race as this fly across the universe? To take over our planet? How many others must he have passed to get here? Why wouldn’t he colonize them, first? We pose no threat, unless he was worried we might be duped by this Evans and tricked into attacking him.”
The journalists were nodding their heads. They were starting to think like Forest, now. Max Evans was not what he appeared to be. Max could feel the tide turning against him again. Things looked bleak for him.
“Another question,” the president smiled, sensing his victory. His advisor whispered in his ear and nodded at someone. “A woman this time.” He pointed to a red head.
“Sarah Brackham,” her voice called out. She pulled off her wig to reveal her now famous features. “What name did Kivar use to address his wanted terrorist?”
“Excuse me?” the president looked baffled.
“When he told you that we were hiding a wanted Antarian terrorist, and that he sought to arrest him, what did he say his name was? And what was the name he used to address the others? The sister that Max mentioned. His second in command. Or his wife. What names did he use, Mr. President?”
“I don’t recall,” the president replied after consultation with his advisor.
“Have I ever told you how much I love that Sarah?” Max grinned.
“Not while Liz was around,” Michael smirked.
“Didn’t he refer to them by name?”
“I’m sure he did,” the president nodded. “I just don’t recall the names he used.”
“How convenient. But you recall that these are definitely the aliens that he was after.”
“How many aliens do you think there might be on this planet, Ms. Brackham?”
“Mr. President,” she smirked. “I know roughly how many there are. I’ve met most of them, and I can recall many of their Antarian names, at least, those that were introduced to me. I know Max’s previous name, as well as his sister’s and his second in command’s. I have heard their side of the story, Mr. President, and I have heard yours. I know who is telling the truth. Isn’t it true, Mr. President, that Kivar never told you Max’s real name because you never spoke to Kivar. In fact, isn’t it true, Mr. President, that you have been signaling Kivar’s ship almost non-stop since Max’s speech, but Kivar has not as yet responded. Does this not strike you as odd? If he was coming in peace, don’t you think Kivar would have responded?”
“Maxwell,” Michael grinned. Gone was the skepticism that had earlier swept the room. “We need to issue another medal.”
“I’d like to know how she knew to be there,” Max shook his head. The president’s address had turned into a free-for-all as he tried to field questions that clearly showed the journalists smelled blood. “Or what question to ask. I mean, how did she find out he was going to address the nation, and how did she get in.”
“I’ll give you three guesses,” Michael shrugged. “And I bet it’s him whispering in the president’s ear.”
* * *
Night time found Michael and Max sitting in a pair of chairs outside of his tent, staring up at the stars in the clear night sky. They were drinking Snapple from the bottle.
“He’s somewhere out there,” Max sighed.
“You worried?” Michael nodded.
“Yeah,” Max continued staring upwards. “You?”
“Yeah. But excited at the same time, you know?”
“It will all be over,” Max agreed. “One way or another.”
“Before all of this started,” Michael looked across at Max. “You know, that day you healed Liz. I never used to believe in miracles. Fate, destiny, kismet, none of it. But this past year… No, scratch that. Ever since Jim Valenti helped us to get you away from Pierce, I’m not so sure anymore. It’s been one miracle after another. So this thing with Kivar. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get a lucky break.”
“Did you know I was considering asking Jeff and Nancy to take Liz to Florida?”
“You think she’d go?”
“I think there’s a better chance that hell will freeze over. But I’m so afraid that Kivar will capture Liz alive. I mean, god. I can’t bear the thought of…”
“Let’s not go borrowing any additional trouble. We have enough as it is.”
“Yeah.”
“But I hear you, man. I wish I could get Maria away from here, too.”
They heard the light fall of approaching footsteps.
“Hey, Liz,” Max called without even looking.
“Hey, Max,” she kissed his cheek. Behind Liz, the ever-present forms of Eldugar and Katya appeared. As soon as she was in Max’s presence, they both turned toward the tent they now shared. “What have you two been up to?”
“Chilling,” Max grinned.
“Is that what they call worrying these days?” she smiled.
“Something like that,” Michael started to laugh.
“How about you? What have you been up to?”
“After we saw that all the soldiers were okay,” Liz sat in Max’s lap. “We went over to make sure that their partners and families were okay too. We watched Forest’s performance with them. Don’t you just love Sarah?” Liz grinned. Max and Michael smirked at each other. “Oh, Terrie sends her love, by the way. Then, I spent most of the evening talking to Annah, Ali Assif’s wife.”
“Yeah? How did that go?”
“It went well,” she shrugged. “She’s really sweet. You don’t have to worry. They don’t see you as some prophet, or anything. Oh, Michael. By the way. Maria’s back at your tent, now. Anyway, I’m going to get ready for bed. Good night, Michael.”
“Good night, your highness,” Michael grinned.
“I’ll be in, in a moment,” Max smiled at her as Liz disappeared into the tent.
“It’s like she doesn’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow,” Michael shook his head.
“She knows,” Max confirmed. “But we have this pact. Every day we get to spend together is a gift. So we live it to the full. We’ll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.”
“You know what they say about that, don’t you?”
“No. What?”
“Tomorrow never comes.”
“I wish.”
They sat in silence and finished their Snapple.
“Well,” Michael stood up. “I guess I better head on back to Maria. No doubt she has something to rag on me about.”
“You gotta learn to treat her better.”
“Nah,” Michael smirked. “It’s more fun like this.”
“I always knew you liked it.”
“Well, we’re not like you two. This works for us.”
“Just keep her happy, Michael. I don’t want the fallout upsetting Liz.”
“Roger that,” Michael nodded. “It won’t be you she takes it out on, though. Liz’ll come straight to me.”
“’Night, Michael.”
“’Night Max.”
* * *
Max watched as Michael picked his way along the dark path that led to the tent that he and Maria shared. Like the others, their tent was standard army issue. Only Max and Liz shared the sumptuous palace like tent that had been a gift. Max turned to enter their tent. The heavy walls cut out all the surrounding noise. It was like stepping in to his own private world.
“Liz?” he called when he could not see her.
“Sit down and relax,” she called. “I’ll be right out.”
Max dropped into the large bean bag that doubled up as a chair and waited. The gas lamps dimmed, and music started, in spite of the fact that they had no music system in the tent. The music was foreign, Arabian. The tent flap to their bedchamber opened and an Arabian Princess swayed through to the main room. Max blinked. Liz wore a blue pair of filmy, baggy pants. A small blue top only just covered her breasts and the single chain that held it together showed the valley between them. A blue veil covered her mouth and nose. All of the exquisite silk cloth was very close to being transparent. Liz was also adorned in thin gold chains and sparkling jewels. Her body writhed with the music as she swayed her hips to the rapid rhythm and her fingers rang small cymbals for accompaniment. Max felt his arousal growing
She danced seductively to Max, shaking her body at him, against him, teasing him when she drew near. With the swiftness of a pouncing cat, Max reached out and caught her arm. He pulled her, causing her to fall with a squeal into his lap. Pulling the veil to one side, their mouths met in mutual hunger. She needed no coaxing to part her lips; the slide of his tongue was an erotic delight that made her senses spin.
“Max,” she complained. “I had this all planned out.”
“Plans are good,” he nuzzled his lips against her earlobe through the silk. “But spontaneity’s better.”
He rested his trembling hands on her shoulders. Even through the fine silk, he could feel that she was so soft and warm. He tilted his head to gaze at her entire body. She lifted her chin to meet the appreciative gaze of his amber eyes. She knew that he liked what he saw, that he always had. Max’s hand deserted her shoulder to trace lightly over her cheeks and parted lips, causing them both to tremble. His finger leisurely trailed over her nose, around her alluring eyes, and poised on her dainty chin. His hand was like an explorer, one who not only mapped out territory, but claimed it as well. Claimed it for himself. But Liz was already his. She always was. Totally and without condition, other than that he love her. Which he did, with all his heart.
Liz was content to sit on his lap, mesmerized by him, to allow him free reign over her body as well as her will. She felt like a rose petal, a white rose petal floating peacefully on an azure, no an amber sea. Finally, her hands went upward to caress his chest. As her flattened palms moved over his muscled flesh, she became aware of the thudding of his heart. It was matching hers, beat for beat. Max's head lowered so that his mouth deftly covered hers, their tongues touching and teasing. Liz was ecstatic; Max was what she wanted; what she needed. He was here with her. Sometimes, Liz hated that she had to share Max with so many people, making demands on his precious time. But he always made time for her. He did not send her away any more. Liz always felt so comfortable with him, but more so when they were alone like this. She felt alive and happy, wild and wonderful, all at the same time. She could give herself into his care, total abandon.
Max’s hands drifted to her soft breasts, each hand capturing and caressing a firm mound. There was no need for embarrassment or shyness or resistance between them. They had shared so much; they were so in love; they could do anything that would please one another. And they so enjoyed pleasing one another. Max felt her nipples harden under his palms. Shivers, like lightning, raced through her body as he kneaded her sensitive nubs between his thumb and forefinger. His hands squeezed the yielding flesh and sweetly tormented the thrusting peaks. He bent his head forward as his probing tongue touched hers; they savored the taste of each other.
Liz's hands roamed across the hard, smooth body before her. They played over the taut, sinewy muscles across his chest and lining his shoulders. She straddled Max’s thighs and allowed her hands to float over and around his slim, flat stomach. Her fingertips playfully grazed his hips, then wandered to examine his firm buttocks. Her actions were stealing his senses and control. He could not help the moan of pleasure as her delicate, deft fingers unfastened his jeans.
Max traced the outline of her spine down to its base, and then he softly felt the shape of her buttocks. Crushing her against his body so that she could feel his mounting excitement, he slowly pushed his hand underneath her silk pants and she felt his hand on her naked flesh. Liz was shaking, she wanted him with an intensity that was unbelievable, her body was trembling and she didn't think she could stand much more. She felt him hard against her as his fingers caressed her backside and firmly pulled her against him. With an effort, Max pulled himself away, gave a great sigh of anticipation, lifted Liz into his arms and carried her through the flap into the master bedroom. He let her down on the floor, next to their bed.
Max’s mouth took hers in a devouring, passionate kiss that ignited her passion. Responding with the fullness of her desire, Liz slipped her arms around his neck and hugged him nearer, pulling her in to him. They were separated only by the thinness of their clothing. Max began to move restlessly against her welcoming softness. The hardness of her nipples pressing into his chest wreaked havoc on his already inflamed senses, and his desire was stretched to the limits as she moaned low in her throat. Tenderly, he drew away and with gentle fingers he released the clasp that held her dainty top, revealing the swells of her breasts.
"You're so lovely," he whispered in a reverent purr as he traced an erotic pattern on the exposed flesh.
Lust coursed through her at his deliberate teasing touch and she moved closer to him, wanting more. He closed his fingers over her rounded, soft breasts. Liz’s groan was almost desperate as she felt his palm cup her sensitive flesh. Knowing that the erotic sound had come from her own throat surprised her. The play of his warm, knowing hands as he massaged her softness lit fires of need within her, and when he bent to suckle at her nipples, she gasped at the sensations he aroused. In all their time together, never had she felt this aroused. Her breath stopped as his hot, moist breath scorched her flesh. Her eyes closed helplessly; her head thrashed from side to side in tortured longing. She was shocked by the fierceness with which she wanted him.
Max drew Liz down to the soft cushions that had been piled up on their bed. Slipping her top from her slim shoulders he tossed it carelessly aside and gathered her into his arms. The fire that had been smoldering inside him burst into flame as he moved over her and his mouth found hers in a breath stealing exchange. At the thrust of his hard thighs against her pliant flesh, Liz surged upwards wanting - no needing more and she writhed feverishly beneath him.
"Easy, my love," Max murmured softly as he lowered his head to her breast and pressed heated kisses to the taut brown nipples.
Starbursts of passion soared through her as he teased each one in turn, and she held his head to her, savoring the joy of his caress.
Liz could feel that hard strength of him pressed to her thigh, and with a tentative hand she reached out to touch him, wanting to give him the same pleasure he was giving her. Slowly, cautiously, her fingers slipped inside his jeans and explored that most intimate part of him. Max pressed his hand over hers and rotated his hips against her. Her fingers measured the width and length and strength of a part of him that she already knew intimately, alternately squeezing and stroking until he started gasping. Max reached down and pulled her hand away from him, holding it tightly for an instant before lifting it to his mouth and pressing a heated kiss to her knuckles.
"Much more of that,” he groaned, “and you'll end it all before we really get going.” He kissed her a gentle kiss. "I want you Liz. More than words can express."
His sweet confession made her sprits soar. She loved that she could do this to a man who was so in control of things, but there was a tinge of concern. Concern at the thought that this might be their last time together. Perhaps that was what gave it such a magical edge.
"I want you too."
Her sweet confession was all the encouragement he needed. Moving quickly, he stripped off his own clothes and then turned back to her. With patient hands, he unfastened her pants and, with help from Liz, slid them from her body.
"You're perfect," he whispered. “You always were and you always will be.”
His eyes were taking in her silken breasts, her smooth stomach, and the slender length of her legs. While Liz watched him in wide-eyed anticipation, he slowly bent to kiss her. At the touch of his lips on hers, she sighed in total abandon d looped her arms around his neck, pulling him down. The touch of his chest felt wonderful against her bare breasts, and she rubbed sinuously against him. When his hand sought the satin smoothness of her bare stomach his lips claimed her again and his hand dipped even lower. Liz arched in passionate response as he slipped over her silken curls and explored the tight center of her womanhood. When he began his skillful caresses, he created sensations within her body that caused her to writhe in ecstasy. His magical, stimulating touch brought her to a peak again and again until she was begging to be released from his sensual torment.
"Max," she panted, her eyes glazed with passion. "Please… I need…"
Max knew that she was ready for him but he fought against taking her just yet. With gentle pressure, he increased the tempo of his stroking as he captured her lips in a quick, devastating kiss.
"Now my sweet,” he smiled, “I'll please you now."
Trailing kisses down her throat, he paused briefly to savor the pulse beating wildly there and then moved lower to continue his erotic foray at the tempting mounds of her breasts. She felt a shaft of liquid fire shoot along her veins as he suckled her nipples, and whimpered when at last his mouth left her breasts to forge a moist trail across her flat belly to the curling triangle of hair below. He pressed a hard, hot kiss to the soft mound; Liz felt the shock clear down to her toes. Her eyes fluttered open. They widened with pleasure at seeing his head nestling cozily between her slender, parted thighs.
"Max!" she breathed raggedly as he pressed torrid kisses to the dampened heat of her. Her fingers tugged sharply on his hair. "Oh, God. Max!"
He lifted his head at the frantic plea in her voice. Unable to help herself, she moved her hips in silent protest at the cessation of the fiery torment of his lips on the sensitive object of his attention. At her involuntary movement his eyes narrowed with delight. His breath caught in a harsh sigh.
"You always taste so good. Like honey and spice," he muttered gutturally as he placed his head back between her thighs.
"Oh yes!” Liz cried. “Yes,"
Grasping his head, she clung to him as his lips and tongue worked their wonders on her willing flesh. The feelings he aroused were spiraling out of control, and she bucked so wildly that Max had to hold her hips down so that he could continue to please her. Liz found the ultimate pleasure in a burst of rainbow glory that left her weak and satisfied. Eyes closed, she rested and allowed the beauty of the joy he had just given her to permeate her soul. As always, Max knew that he had satisfied her, but now he wanted to take her higher still.
His lips again claimed hers with a fierce, savage possession. Still basking in the throes of her last climax, Liz gasped and shuddered into his mouth. His hand went back down and started to stroke the center of her passion as his lips reclaimed her breasts. Max began to caress her again, this time with more daring. She had thought the passion within her had been satisfied, but his bold aggressive touch awoke more exciting feelings. Reveling in his lovemaking, she gave herself up to him without question, parting her legs for his questing caresses. Raking her hands through his hair, she pulled him to her, but this time she was the aggressor as she kissed him hard, breaking his determination to go slowly with her. As she eagerly came to him, Max could no longer hold back.
In one swift movement, Liz pulled Max on top. Moving over her, he covered her body in that most intimate of positions. Liz could feel the hardness of his manhood probing at her sensitive flesh and she wriggled invitingly beneath him. She was feverish with desire for him and she wanted to know the fullness of his love. Boldly Liz reached out to touch him. She was velvet and fire, and Max was lost when she reached out to guide him into her. Slipping his hands beneath her buttocks, he lifted her hips and pressed his entry, moving easily so as to prolong the ecstasy. Liz gasped at the pleasure of accepting him. Max groaned his intense pleasure as he slid deeply within her tight, silken sheath.
She hugged her arms about his neck and passionately pressed her lips to his. She rotated her hips to demand more. Her small movement was all the invitation that Max needed and, at last, he gave his passion full reign.
“Move with me, Liz," he begged.
Pacing himself, he thrust into the molten silken core of her womanly depths. Offering him the very essence of her love, Liz met him eagerly as his driving hips branded her again as his own for all time. Her hips undulated in the age-old, instinctive rhythm that made him gasp, moving faster and faster.
Liz felt the stirring of desire again and she matched his rhythm, intent on returning the pleasure he had given her and wanting the fire of ecstasy he had given her before. The sensation of her body swallowing him only to free him and swallow him again was exquisite. She clutched him tighter, calling his name. His rigid self-control dissolved as her body responded to him, welcoming his deep thrusts. Liz caressed his back and slipped her hands lower to explore his lean buttocks and hard, driving hips. Her own excitement grew frenzied and she writhed beneath him, wanting and needing more. She wrapped her legs around him, holding him more closely, and moving with him as one. When his hands moved under her buttocks to lift her so she could accept him more deeply, she gasped at the sensation he aroused.
Again, her body was engulfed in ecstasy as the waves of intense pleasure washed over her, and she clasped him to her, clinging to his strength and worshipping his body with hers. Knowing he'd pleased her again, Max gave himself up to overwhelming passion that possessed him. Together, they exploded. Stars were born, lived and died all within the confines of their climax. Together, they sailed to the heavens and back, visiting moons and planets. They surfed over rings and soared through meteorite tails. Comets exploded in their path and only heightened their experience. When the new born galaxy faded away, the sun was already starting to rise.
They lay unmoving, catching their breaths. After a while Max rolled to his side and Liz curled against his moist body.
“Wow, Max,” Liz panted. “That was…”
“Indescribable, Liz,” Max confirmed.
His arm encircled her and drew her close. When his labored breathing slowed and eventually returned to normal, he moved to press a kiss on her damp forehead. His fingers lazily stroked her back and arm and she cuddled against him. They lay like that for some time.
“Where did you get that outfit, Liz,” his eyes sparkled.
“Annah gave it to me. When she heard that her husband had given us this tent, she said that this would give it a finishing touch. Did you like it?”
“Remind me to thank her,” Max grinned.
* * *
The dirty, mottled Greyhound bus pulled to a stop at the Roswell Bus Station, and the front doors swung open amidst a cloud of dust. One by one, the weary passengers descended the steps and planted their feet on the pavement of Roswell. They looked around to get their bearings, and like every traveler that had arrived before them, did one of two things. They either started the fruitless search for accommodation, soon to be followed by the trek to the shanty town, or they made their way, after asking for directions, to the military base that was under the command of one Max Evans. One passenger did neither. He paused, like the others, but stood there, clutching his guitar case in one hand and his backpack, complete with tent and bedroll in the other. He glanced up and down the street. He already knew the directions. He turned, and started to walk away from the station, heading for Main Street, and the Crashdown Café.
“Sorry man,” the Hispanic manager told him. “I don’t need no more help. I even put a sign in the window.” He pointed to the sign indicating the no help was needed.
“Didn’t see it,” Jose Perez shrugged. “I thought that maybe as you was hisp…”
“Look, man,” the manager shook his head. “Maybe if things weren’t so crazy, you know? But as it is, I don’t need nobody right now. I already hired all I need, and have a waiting list as long as my arm. In any case, the boss says I can only hire locals, ‘cause of who he’s related to.”
“What about a room? You gotta room I can stay in.”
“Sorry man. The rooms upstairs belong to the boss. They live there. None for rent.”
“You know where I can stay?”
“Only place free is the tent town. You gotta tent?”
Jose Perez lifted his back pack.
“You’ll be fine. They have water and everything out there now.”
Perez grunted his thanks. He was disappointed that neither Max nor Liz were there, but he knew he would never be that lucky.
“So where’s the famous aliens?” he looked around. “I was hopin to see ‘em.”
“You and the rest of town. They’re out at the embassy.”
“Embassy?”
“Sure. Course it’s just a tent now, but one day. Look, I got work to do.”
Perez nodded, and left the café. He followed the directions for the shanty town and soon found himself wandering along the marked blocks of temporary homes. The gaps between the blocks had been given street names. They all had astronomical themes, such as Saturn Street, or Lunar Lane. He set up his tent in the first suitable spot he found, and settled himself down. He listened to the comments of the losers that surrounded him. They were all hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the aliens. Some had come hoping to join his army. Hordes of young girls had come to pledge their undying love for Max. There were guys with tattered possessions, but were dressed in immaculate clothing and looked all the world like gigolos. They were seeking to enhance their reputation, and their life style, by seducing what they saw as a naïve young woman, the alien king’s wife.
“Look at them,” Perez shook his head, speaking to no one in particular. “The garbage of society. Yet here I am stuck in the middle of them and it strikes me how I have something in common with them. They all want to fuck Max or his wife.”
Perez unzipped his guitar case.
“Heck, I bet some one them want to fuck Max AND his wife. Well, I want to do the same thing. I want to fuck them both.”
Perez reached into his case and stroked the high-powered sniper rifle.
“Well and truly fucked.”
* * *
“Is everyone in place?” Max looked up at the eight men that he had placed in command of his squads.
They were all in the command tent, receiving their final briefing. The men all nodded.
“Everyone’s in place, Max,” Michael confirmed. “I’ve checked them all myself. The four guns have been mounted on two four by fours for mobility. One of them is based just down the hill. The guns have been distributed, everyone knows how to use them, and we’re just raring to go. All we need now is Kivar. How long till he gets here?”
“The Nyelda has confirmed that Kivar’s ship will enter the Earth’s atmosphere within the hour,” Serena informed him. “His previous tactics for airborne assaults have been…”
“Aerial bombardment first, followed by his drop ships coming down in waves of eight ships per wave, randomly spaced to allow maximum ground coverage. You told us already, Serena,”
“It never hurts to hear it again,” Serena sniffed.
“I agree,” Max nodded. “I want everyone to know what to expect.”
“We know, Max,” Michael shook his head. “We know.”
“Okay,” Max took a deep breath and exhaled. “Get to you r posts, gentlemen. Remember to target the ships in your own sector first. Only help out your neighboring sectors if you are free to do so. Radio in for help if you need it. Don’t be afraid to communicate.”
“They know all this, Max.”
“Right,” Max nodded. “Let’s go then. Good luck, everyone, and take care of yourselves.”
* * *
“Status report!” Kivar commanded.
“The drop ships are all ready, sir,” the adjutant responded. “The men have all been boarded. Their weapons have been checked and they are good to go. Our gunnery squad is waiting for the order. As soon as we have entered the atmosphere and they have the targeting coordinates, and the order to fire, they’ll start their aerial bombardment.”
“I want to see if I can capture them alive,” Kivar ran a finger along his chin. “I see no profit in incinerating them. We know they have no weapons to hurt the ships. Make sure they have their shields engaged.”
“Yes, sir,” the underling nodded. “The men won’t like the idea of meeting organized defenses, sir. Especially when it’s Zan who has organized them. I’m sure they would feel better about this if you softened them up first.”
“I’m sure they would,” Kivar nodded. “But they don’t think of the global picture. I have to prove that Zan is dead. I need his body to do that.”
“Yes, sir. Oh, we’re still receiving the strange signal requesting a dialog.”
“Someone trying to cut a deal,” Kivar waved his hand. “Like I need anyone’s help down there. What about Zan? Is he present?”
“We believe so. We have detected accumulated forces down there, but as yet our sensors have picked up no trace of any Antarians down there.”
“Is the Nyelda still there?”
“Affirmative. We believe that Zan is still on the planet. Why hang around if he could outrun us back to Antar?”
“Why aren’t there any Antarians there?” Kivar spat. “Our sensors should be lit up like a star map.”
“I wish I could answer that,” the man frowned. “Maybe Zan has fled? If he fled, so too would the Antarians.”
“Standby to enter the atmosphere,” Kivar ordered. “Aim the ships for a normal pattern over the waiting forces. Let’s get right in among them and finish this quickly.”
* * *
Max looked at his watch.
“It’s just after three,” Michael, who was always looking at his, informed him.
“The Nyelda says any time now.”
“I thought we might see him by now. I mean, it’s such a clear sky.”
Max shrugged.
“I hate this waiting, Max,” Liz clasped his hand.
“Me too,” Max nodded.
“Oh. My. God.” Maria was staring up into the clear sky.
From nothing, strange clouds started to appear, almost like they were boiling into existence, an effect of the heat generated by the ship’s entry into the atmosphere condensing the cold air that it met. The cloud bank grew from a small spot to cover a huge expanse of sky. Lighting flickered within the cloud. Max could hear the cries from among the seasoned men in the nearby squad. It was very intimidating. Slowly, from the blue black clouds, a strange, solid shape was taking form. A space ship was materializing right in front of their eyes. Liz gasped. She grabbed Max’s arm and held it tight. To Max, it was strangely beautiful, an awesome sight. Thankfully, it was not as big as he had supposed. It was no bigger than a football stadium, though that was large enough. Nevertheless, it still instilled a sense of fear and panic into the men. Max had no doubt that everyone else was affected in the same way.
“Relax,” Max urged over the radio. He managed to keep his voice calm and free from fear. “Take it easy. Stand firm. Rely on your training and your instincts, and we’ll get through this.”
It was a soothing voice, one that instilled confidence. The sense of fear faded from the squad nearest to Max as his words calmed them. He hoped that the same effect was spreading throughout his army. High in the upper reaches of the atmosphere, the sleek machine stilled to a halt. The huge space ship hung motionless, suspended in the air, a seemingly impossible task. Kivar had arrived.
* * *
There was a stunned silence in the room. Faces turned to Max, their looks questioning.
“That bastard!” Michael spat. “The two faced lying son of a…”
“Mr. Evans?” one of the foreign soldiers called. “Is there any truth to what he says?”
“No way, man,” one of the Americans responded. Standing upright, he pointed at the television set. “No way is that jackass telling the truth. Max is the real deal, man.”
The rest of the Americans who had already served with Max agreed with him.
“But you’re on his side,” someone objected. “He even gave you a medal. Maybe you’re in on it with him.”
“Yeah,” another called. “Can you prove to us that you are the one who is telling the truth?”
“How can you believe what Forest says?”
“How can we believe what Evans says?”
The mood in the mess was turning ugly. People were starting to choose sides as they shifted to one side of the room or another. Hands were moving toward guns. Max drew in a deep breath and was about to speak when he was interrupted.
“Shhh!” someone called. “They’re asking questions. Let’s hear what he has to say, and then question Mr. Evans later.”
“Yes,” the president pointed to the crowd. “You there.”
“Reginald Baines,” a man’s voice called. “Washington Post. Mr. President. What do you say to the allegations that Max Evans agreed to meet you last week, and you tried to use this meeting to capture him?”
The president held his hand over the microphone while an advisor whispered in his ear.
“Prior to all of this news, if someone approached you claiming to be an alien, and wishing to talk to you, wouldn’t you be concerned? That the man might be a little… deranged? I was worried that he was mentally unstable and being a good Christian, sought to seek medical help for him. At the time, I did not know of his royal claims, nor did I know of his true nature. Yes,” he turned to another journalist.
“Terry Dickerson,” he answered, “CNN. We’ve all seen Max, and his charming wife. I think it’s fair to say that pretty much everyone fell in love with them. What was this Kivar like, and how do you know that he’s the one telling the truth?”
“Not all of us fell in love with them, Terry,” Forest smirked. “But Kivar, he was a man that I could admire. He seemed strong and determined to stamp out terrorism. He reminded me of… well, me. As to telling the truth? You all heard the claims of this Max Evans. Dying? Reborn as a clone? Come on, people. And why else would as advanced a race as this fly across the universe? To take over our planet? How many others must he have passed to get here? Why wouldn’t he colonize them, first? We pose no threat, unless he was worried we might be duped by this Evans and tricked into attacking him.”
The journalists were nodding their heads. They were starting to think like Forest, now. Max Evans was not what he appeared to be. Max could feel the tide turning against him again. Things looked bleak for him.
“Another question,” the president smiled, sensing his victory. His advisor whispered in his ear and nodded at someone. “A woman this time.” He pointed to a red head.
“Sarah Brackham,” her voice called out. She pulled off her wig to reveal her now famous features. “What name did Kivar use to address his wanted terrorist?”
“Excuse me?” the president looked baffled.
“When he told you that we were hiding a wanted Antarian terrorist, and that he sought to arrest him, what did he say his name was? And what was the name he used to address the others? The sister that Max mentioned. His second in command. Or his wife. What names did he use, Mr. President?”
“I don’t recall,” the president replied after consultation with his advisor.
“Have I ever told you how much I love that Sarah?” Max grinned.
“Not while Liz was around,” Michael smirked.
“Didn’t he refer to them by name?”
“I’m sure he did,” the president nodded. “I just don’t recall the names he used.”
“How convenient. But you recall that these are definitely the aliens that he was after.”
“How many aliens do you think there might be on this planet, Ms. Brackham?”
“Mr. President,” she smirked. “I know roughly how many there are. I’ve met most of them, and I can recall many of their Antarian names, at least, those that were introduced to me. I know Max’s previous name, as well as his sister’s and his second in command’s. I have heard their side of the story, Mr. President, and I have heard yours. I know who is telling the truth. Isn’t it true, Mr. President, that Kivar never told you Max’s real name because you never spoke to Kivar. In fact, isn’t it true, Mr. President, that you have been signaling Kivar’s ship almost non-stop since Max’s speech, but Kivar has not as yet responded. Does this not strike you as odd? If he was coming in peace, don’t you think Kivar would have responded?”
“Maxwell,” Michael grinned. Gone was the skepticism that had earlier swept the room. “We need to issue another medal.”
“I’d like to know how she knew to be there,” Max shook his head. The president’s address had turned into a free-for-all as he tried to field questions that clearly showed the journalists smelled blood. “Or what question to ask. I mean, how did she find out he was going to address the nation, and how did she get in.”
“I’ll give you three guesses,” Michael shrugged. “And I bet it’s him whispering in the president’s ear.”
* * *
Night time found Michael and Max sitting in a pair of chairs outside of his tent, staring up at the stars in the clear night sky. They were drinking Snapple from the bottle.
“He’s somewhere out there,” Max sighed.
“You worried?” Michael nodded.
“Yeah,” Max continued staring upwards. “You?”
“Yeah. But excited at the same time, you know?”
“It will all be over,” Max agreed. “One way or another.”
“Before all of this started,” Michael looked across at Max. “You know, that day you healed Liz. I never used to believe in miracles. Fate, destiny, kismet, none of it. But this past year… No, scratch that. Ever since Jim Valenti helped us to get you away from Pierce, I’m not so sure anymore. It’s been one miracle after another. So this thing with Kivar. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get a lucky break.”
“Did you know I was considering asking Jeff and Nancy to take Liz to Florida?”
“You think she’d go?”
“I think there’s a better chance that hell will freeze over. But I’m so afraid that Kivar will capture Liz alive. I mean, god. I can’t bear the thought of…”
“Let’s not go borrowing any additional trouble. We have enough as it is.”
“Yeah.”
“But I hear you, man. I wish I could get Maria away from here, too.”
They heard the light fall of approaching footsteps.
“Hey, Liz,” Max called without even looking.
“Hey, Max,” she kissed his cheek. Behind Liz, the ever-present forms of Eldugar and Katya appeared. As soon as she was in Max’s presence, they both turned toward the tent they now shared. “What have you two been up to?”
“Chilling,” Max grinned.
“Is that what they call worrying these days?” she smiled.
“Something like that,” Michael started to laugh.
“How about you? What have you been up to?”
“After we saw that all the soldiers were okay,” Liz sat in Max’s lap. “We went over to make sure that their partners and families were okay too. We watched Forest’s performance with them. Don’t you just love Sarah?” Liz grinned. Max and Michael smirked at each other. “Oh, Terrie sends her love, by the way. Then, I spent most of the evening talking to Annah, Ali Assif’s wife.”
“Yeah? How did that go?”
“It went well,” she shrugged. “She’s really sweet. You don’t have to worry. They don’t see you as some prophet, or anything. Oh, Michael. By the way. Maria’s back at your tent, now. Anyway, I’m going to get ready for bed. Good night, Michael.”
“Good night, your highness,” Michael grinned.
“I’ll be in, in a moment,” Max smiled at her as Liz disappeared into the tent.
“It’s like she doesn’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow,” Michael shook his head.
“She knows,” Max confirmed. “But we have this pact. Every day we get to spend together is a gift. So we live it to the full. We’ll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.”
“You know what they say about that, don’t you?”
“No. What?”
“Tomorrow never comes.”
“I wish.”
They sat in silence and finished their Snapple.
“Well,” Michael stood up. “I guess I better head on back to Maria. No doubt she has something to rag on me about.”
“You gotta learn to treat her better.”
“Nah,” Michael smirked. “It’s more fun like this.”
“I always knew you liked it.”
“Well, we’re not like you two. This works for us.”
“Just keep her happy, Michael. I don’t want the fallout upsetting Liz.”
“Roger that,” Michael nodded. “It won’t be you she takes it out on, though. Liz’ll come straight to me.”
“’Night, Michael.”
“’Night Max.”
* * *
Max watched as Michael picked his way along the dark path that led to the tent that he and Maria shared. Like the others, their tent was standard army issue. Only Max and Liz shared the sumptuous palace like tent that had been a gift. Max turned to enter their tent. The heavy walls cut out all the surrounding noise. It was like stepping in to his own private world.
“Liz?” he called when he could not see her.
“Sit down and relax,” she called. “I’ll be right out.”
Max dropped into the large bean bag that doubled up as a chair and waited. The gas lamps dimmed, and music started, in spite of the fact that they had no music system in the tent. The music was foreign, Arabian. The tent flap to their bedchamber opened and an Arabian Princess swayed through to the main room. Max blinked. Liz wore a blue pair of filmy, baggy pants. A small blue top only just covered her breasts and the single chain that held it together showed the valley between them. A blue veil covered her mouth and nose. All of the exquisite silk cloth was very close to being transparent. Liz was also adorned in thin gold chains and sparkling jewels. Her body writhed with the music as she swayed her hips to the rapid rhythm and her fingers rang small cymbals for accompaniment. Max felt his arousal growing
She danced seductively to Max, shaking her body at him, against him, teasing him when she drew near. With the swiftness of a pouncing cat, Max reached out and caught her arm. He pulled her, causing her to fall with a squeal into his lap. Pulling the veil to one side, their mouths met in mutual hunger. She needed no coaxing to part her lips; the slide of his tongue was an erotic delight that made her senses spin.
“Max,” she complained. “I had this all planned out.”
“Plans are good,” he nuzzled his lips against her earlobe through the silk. “But spontaneity’s better.”
He rested his trembling hands on her shoulders. Even through the fine silk, he could feel that she was so soft and warm. He tilted his head to gaze at her entire body. She lifted her chin to meet the appreciative gaze of his amber eyes. She knew that he liked what he saw, that he always had. Max’s hand deserted her shoulder to trace lightly over her cheeks and parted lips, causing them both to tremble. His finger leisurely trailed over her nose, around her alluring eyes, and poised on her dainty chin. His hand was like an explorer, one who not only mapped out territory, but claimed it as well. Claimed it for himself. But Liz was already his. She always was. Totally and without condition, other than that he love her. Which he did, with all his heart.
Liz was content to sit on his lap, mesmerized by him, to allow him free reign over her body as well as her will. She felt like a rose petal, a white rose petal floating peacefully on an azure, no an amber sea. Finally, her hands went upward to caress his chest. As her flattened palms moved over his muscled flesh, she became aware of the thudding of his heart. It was matching hers, beat for beat. Max's head lowered so that his mouth deftly covered hers, their tongues touching and teasing. Liz was ecstatic; Max was what she wanted; what she needed. He was here with her. Sometimes, Liz hated that she had to share Max with so many people, making demands on his precious time. But he always made time for her. He did not send her away any more. Liz always felt so comfortable with him, but more so when they were alone like this. She felt alive and happy, wild and wonderful, all at the same time. She could give herself into his care, total abandon.
Max’s hands drifted to her soft breasts, each hand capturing and caressing a firm mound. There was no need for embarrassment or shyness or resistance between them. They had shared so much; they were so in love; they could do anything that would please one another. And they so enjoyed pleasing one another. Max felt her nipples harden under his palms. Shivers, like lightning, raced through her body as he kneaded her sensitive nubs between his thumb and forefinger. His hands squeezed the yielding flesh and sweetly tormented the thrusting peaks. He bent his head forward as his probing tongue touched hers; they savored the taste of each other.
Liz's hands roamed across the hard, smooth body before her. They played over the taut, sinewy muscles across his chest and lining his shoulders. She straddled Max’s thighs and allowed her hands to float over and around his slim, flat stomach. Her fingertips playfully grazed his hips, then wandered to examine his firm buttocks. Her actions were stealing his senses and control. He could not help the moan of pleasure as her delicate, deft fingers unfastened his jeans.
Max traced the outline of her spine down to its base, and then he softly felt the shape of her buttocks. Crushing her against his body so that she could feel his mounting excitement, he slowly pushed his hand underneath her silk pants and she felt his hand on her naked flesh. Liz was shaking, she wanted him with an intensity that was unbelievable, her body was trembling and she didn't think she could stand much more. She felt him hard against her as his fingers caressed her backside and firmly pulled her against him. With an effort, Max pulled himself away, gave a great sigh of anticipation, lifted Liz into his arms and carried her through the flap into the master bedroom. He let her down on the floor, next to their bed.
Max’s mouth took hers in a devouring, passionate kiss that ignited her passion. Responding with the fullness of her desire, Liz slipped her arms around his neck and hugged him nearer, pulling her in to him. They were separated only by the thinness of their clothing. Max began to move restlessly against her welcoming softness. The hardness of her nipples pressing into his chest wreaked havoc on his already inflamed senses, and his desire was stretched to the limits as she moaned low in her throat. Tenderly, he drew away and with gentle fingers he released the clasp that held her dainty top, revealing the swells of her breasts.
"You're so lovely," he whispered in a reverent purr as he traced an erotic pattern on the exposed flesh.
Lust coursed through her at his deliberate teasing touch and she moved closer to him, wanting more. He closed his fingers over her rounded, soft breasts. Liz’s groan was almost desperate as she felt his palm cup her sensitive flesh. Knowing that the erotic sound had come from her own throat surprised her. The play of his warm, knowing hands as he massaged her softness lit fires of need within her, and when he bent to suckle at her nipples, she gasped at the sensations he aroused. In all their time together, never had she felt this aroused. Her breath stopped as his hot, moist breath scorched her flesh. Her eyes closed helplessly; her head thrashed from side to side in tortured longing. She was shocked by the fierceness with which she wanted him.
Max drew Liz down to the soft cushions that had been piled up on their bed. Slipping her top from her slim shoulders he tossed it carelessly aside and gathered her into his arms. The fire that had been smoldering inside him burst into flame as he moved over her and his mouth found hers in a breath stealing exchange. At the thrust of his hard thighs against her pliant flesh, Liz surged upwards wanting - no needing more and she writhed feverishly beneath him.
"Easy, my love," Max murmured softly as he lowered his head to her breast and pressed heated kisses to the taut brown nipples.
Starbursts of passion soared through her as he teased each one in turn, and she held his head to her, savoring the joy of his caress.
Liz could feel that hard strength of him pressed to her thigh, and with a tentative hand she reached out to touch him, wanting to give him the same pleasure he was giving her. Slowly, cautiously, her fingers slipped inside his jeans and explored that most intimate part of him. Max pressed his hand over hers and rotated his hips against her. Her fingers measured the width and length and strength of a part of him that she already knew intimately, alternately squeezing and stroking until he started gasping. Max reached down and pulled her hand away from him, holding it tightly for an instant before lifting it to his mouth and pressing a heated kiss to her knuckles.
"Much more of that,” he groaned, “and you'll end it all before we really get going.” He kissed her a gentle kiss. "I want you Liz. More than words can express."
His sweet confession made her sprits soar. She loved that she could do this to a man who was so in control of things, but there was a tinge of concern. Concern at the thought that this might be their last time together. Perhaps that was what gave it such a magical edge.
"I want you too."
Her sweet confession was all the encouragement he needed. Moving quickly, he stripped off his own clothes and then turned back to her. With patient hands, he unfastened her pants and, with help from Liz, slid them from her body.
"You're perfect," he whispered. “You always were and you always will be.”
His eyes were taking in her silken breasts, her smooth stomach, and the slender length of her legs. While Liz watched him in wide-eyed anticipation, he slowly bent to kiss her. At the touch of his lips on hers, she sighed in total abandon d looped her arms around his neck, pulling him down. The touch of his chest felt wonderful against her bare breasts, and she rubbed sinuously against him. When his hand sought the satin smoothness of her bare stomach his lips claimed her again and his hand dipped even lower. Liz arched in passionate response as he slipped over her silken curls and explored the tight center of her womanhood. When he began his skillful caresses, he created sensations within her body that caused her to writhe in ecstasy. His magical, stimulating touch brought her to a peak again and again until she was begging to be released from his sensual torment.
"Max," she panted, her eyes glazed with passion. "Please… I need…"
Max knew that she was ready for him but he fought against taking her just yet. With gentle pressure, he increased the tempo of his stroking as he captured her lips in a quick, devastating kiss.
"Now my sweet,” he smiled, “I'll please you now."
Trailing kisses down her throat, he paused briefly to savor the pulse beating wildly there and then moved lower to continue his erotic foray at the tempting mounds of her breasts. She felt a shaft of liquid fire shoot along her veins as he suckled her nipples, and whimpered when at last his mouth left her breasts to forge a moist trail across her flat belly to the curling triangle of hair below. He pressed a hard, hot kiss to the soft mound; Liz felt the shock clear down to her toes. Her eyes fluttered open. They widened with pleasure at seeing his head nestling cozily between her slender, parted thighs.
"Max!" she breathed raggedly as he pressed torrid kisses to the dampened heat of her. Her fingers tugged sharply on his hair. "Oh, God. Max!"
He lifted his head at the frantic plea in her voice. Unable to help herself, she moved her hips in silent protest at the cessation of the fiery torment of his lips on the sensitive object of his attention. At her involuntary movement his eyes narrowed with delight. His breath caught in a harsh sigh.
"You always taste so good. Like honey and spice," he muttered gutturally as he placed his head back between her thighs.
"Oh yes!” Liz cried. “Yes,"
Grasping his head, she clung to him as his lips and tongue worked their wonders on her willing flesh. The feelings he aroused were spiraling out of control, and she bucked so wildly that Max had to hold her hips down so that he could continue to please her. Liz found the ultimate pleasure in a burst of rainbow glory that left her weak and satisfied. Eyes closed, she rested and allowed the beauty of the joy he had just given her to permeate her soul. As always, Max knew that he had satisfied her, but now he wanted to take her higher still.
His lips again claimed hers with a fierce, savage possession. Still basking in the throes of her last climax, Liz gasped and shuddered into his mouth. His hand went back down and started to stroke the center of her passion as his lips reclaimed her breasts. Max began to caress her again, this time with more daring. She had thought the passion within her had been satisfied, but his bold aggressive touch awoke more exciting feelings. Reveling in his lovemaking, she gave herself up to him without question, parting her legs for his questing caresses. Raking her hands through his hair, she pulled him to her, but this time she was the aggressor as she kissed him hard, breaking his determination to go slowly with her. As she eagerly came to him, Max could no longer hold back.
In one swift movement, Liz pulled Max on top. Moving over her, he covered her body in that most intimate of positions. Liz could feel the hardness of his manhood probing at her sensitive flesh and she wriggled invitingly beneath him. She was feverish with desire for him and she wanted to know the fullness of his love. Boldly Liz reached out to touch him. She was velvet and fire, and Max was lost when she reached out to guide him into her. Slipping his hands beneath her buttocks, he lifted her hips and pressed his entry, moving easily so as to prolong the ecstasy. Liz gasped at the pleasure of accepting him. Max groaned his intense pleasure as he slid deeply within her tight, silken sheath.
She hugged her arms about his neck and passionately pressed her lips to his. She rotated her hips to demand more. Her small movement was all the invitation that Max needed and, at last, he gave his passion full reign.
“Move with me, Liz," he begged.
Pacing himself, he thrust into the molten silken core of her womanly depths. Offering him the very essence of her love, Liz met him eagerly as his driving hips branded her again as his own for all time. Her hips undulated in the age-old, instinctive rhythm that made him gasp, moving faster and faster.
Liz felt the stirring of desire again and she matched his rhythm, intent on returning the pleasure he had given her and wanting the fire of ecstasy he had given her before. The sensation of her body swallowing him only to free him and swallow him again was exquisite. She clutched him tighter, calling his name. His rigid self-control dissolved as her body responded to him, welcoming his deep thrusts. Liz caressed his back and slipped her hands lower to explore his lean buttocks and hard, driving hips. Her own excitement grew frenzied and she writhed beneath him, wanting and needing more. She wrapped her legs around him, holding him more closely, and moving with him as one. When his hands moved under her buttocks to lift her so she could accept him more deeply, she gasped at the sensation he aroused.
Again, her body was engulfed in ecstasy as the waves of intense pleasure washed over her, and she clasped him to her, clinging to his strength and worshipping his body with hers. Knowing he'd pleased her again, Max gave himself up to overwhelming passion that possessed him. Together, they exploded. Stars were born, lived and died all within the confines of their climax. Together, they sailed to the heavens and back, visiting moons and planets. They surfed over rings and soared through meteorite tails. Comets exploded in their path and only heightened their experience. When the new born galaxy faded away, the sun was already starting to rise.
They lay unmoving, catching their breaths. After a while Max rolled to his side and Liz curled against his moist body.
“Wow, Max,” Liz panted. “That was…”
“Indescribable, Liz,” Max confirmed.
His arm encircled her and drew her close. When his labored breathing slowed and eventually returned to normal, he moved to press a kiss on her damp forehead. His fingers lazily stroked her back and arm and she cuddled against him. They lay like that for some time.
“Where did you get that outfit, Liz,” his eyes sparkled.
“Annah gave it to me. When she heard that her husband had given us this tent, she said that this would give it a finishing touch. Did you like it?”
“Remind me to thank her,” Max grinned.
* * *
The dirty, mottled Greyhound bus pulled to a stop at the Roswell Bus Station, and the front doors swung open amidst a cloud of dust. One by one, the weary passengers descended the steps and planted their feet on the pavement of Roswell. They looked around to get their bearings, and like every traveler that had arrived before them, did one of two things. They either started the fruitless search for accommodation, soon to be followed by the trek to the shanty town, or they made their way, after asking for directions, to the military base that was under the command of one Max Evans. One passenger did neither. He paused, like the others, but stood there, clutching his guitar case in one hand and his backpack, complete with tent and bedroll in the other. He glanced up and down the street. He already knew the directions. He turned, and started to walk away from the station, heading for Main Street, and the Crashdown Café.
“Sorry man,” the Hispanic manager told him. “I don’t need no more help. I even put a sign in the window.” He pointed to the sign indicating the no help was needed.
“Didn’t see it,” Jose Perez shrugged. “I thought that maybe as you was hisp…”
“Look, man,” the manager shook his head. “Maybe if things weren’t so crazy, you know? But as it is, I don’t need nobody right now. I already hired all I need, and have a waiting list as long as my arm. In any case, the boss says I can only hire locals, ‘cause of who he’s related to.”
“What about a room? You gotta room I can stay in.”
“Sorry man. The rooms upstairs belong to the boss. They live there. None for rent.”
“You know where I can stay?”
“Only place free is the tent town. You gotta tent?”
Jose Perez lifted his back pack.
“You’ll be fine. They have water and everything out there now.”
Perez grunted his thanks. He was disappointed that neither Max nor Liz were there, but he knew he would never be that lucky.
“So where’s the famous aliens?” he looked around. “I was hopin to see ‘em.”
“You and the rest of town. They’re out at the embassy.”
“Embassy?”
“Sure. Course it’s just a tent now, but one day. Look, I got work to do.”
Perez nodded, and left the café. He followed the directions for the shanty town and soon found himself wandering along the marked blocks of temporary homes. The gaps between the blocks had been given street names. They all had astronomical themes, such as Saturn Street, or Lunar Lane. He set up his tent in the first suitable spot he found, and settled himself down. He listened to the comments of the losers that surrounded him. They were all hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the aliens. Some had come hoping to join his army. Hordes of young girls had come to pledge their undying love for Max. There were guys with tattered possessions, but were dressed in immaculate clothing and looked all the world like gigolos. They were seeking to enhance their reputation, and their life style, by seducing what they saw as a naïve young woman, the alien king’s wife.
“Look at them,” Perez shook his head, speaking to no one in particular. “The garbage of society. Yet here I am stuck in the middle of them and it strikes me how I have something in common with them. They all want to fuck Max or his wife.”
Perez unzipped his guitar case.
“Heck, I bet some one them want to fuck Max AND his wife. Well, I want to do the same thing. I want to fuck them both.”
Perez reached into his case and stroked the high-powered sniper rifle.
“Well and truly fucked.”
* * *
“Is everyone in place?” Max looked up at the eight men that he had placed in command of his squads.
They were all in the command tent, receiving their final briefing. The men all nodded.
“Everyone’s in place, Max,” Michael confirmed. “I’ve checked them all myself. The four guns have been mounted on two four by fours for mobility. One of them is based just down the hill. The guns have been distributed, everyone knows how to use them, and we’re just raring to go. All we need now is Kivar. How long till he gets here?”
“The Nyelda has confirmed that Kivar’s ship will enter the Earth’s atmosphere within the hour,” Serena informed him. “His previous tactics for airborne assaults have been…”
“Aerial bombardment first, followed by his drop ships coming down in waves of eight ships per wave, randomly spaced to allow maximum ground coverage. You told us already, Serena,”
“It never hurts to hear it again,” Serena sniffed.
“I agree,” Max nodded. “I want everyone to know what to expect.”
“We know, Max,” Michael shook his head. “We know.”
“Okay,” Max took a deep breath and exhaled. “Get to you r posts, gentlemen. Remember to target the ships in your own sector first. Only help out your neighboring sectors if you are free to do so. Radio in for help if you need it. Don’t be afraid to communicate.”
“They know all this, Max.”
“Right,” Max nodded. “Let’s go then. Good luck, everyone, and take care of yourselves.”
* * *
“Status report!” Kivar commanded.
“The drop ships are all ready, sir,” the adjutant responded. “The men have all been boarded. Their weapons have been checked and they are good to go. Our gunnery squad is waiting for the order. As soon as we have entered the atmosphere and they have the targeting coordinates, and the order to fire, they’ll start their aerial bombardment.”
“I want to see if I can capture them alive,” Kivar ran a finger along his chin. “I see no profit in incinerating them. We know they have no weapons to hurt the ships. Make sure they have their shields engaged.”
“Yes, sir,” the underling nodded. “The men won’t like the idea of meeting organized defenses, sir. Especially when it’s Zan who has organized them. I’m sure they would feel better about this if you softened them up first.”
“I’m sure they would,” Kivar nodded. “But they don’t think of the global picture. I have to prove that Zan is dead. I need his body to do that.”
“Yes, sir. Oh, we’re still receiving the strange signal requesting a dialog.”
“Someone trying to cut a deal,” Kivar waved his hand. “Like I need anyone’s help down there. What about Zan? Is he present?”
“We believe so. We have detected accumulated forces down there, but as yet our sensors have picked up no trace of any Antarians down there.”
“Is the Nyelda still there?”
“Affirmative. We believe that Zan is still on the planet. Why hang around if he could outrun us back to Antar?”
“Why aren’t there any Antarians there?” Kivar spat. “Our sensors should be lit up like a star map.”
“I wish I could answer that,” the man frowned. “Maybe Zan has fled? If he fled, so too would the Antarians.”
“Standby to enter the atmosphere,” Kivar ordered. “Aim the ships for a normal pattern over the waiting forces. Let’s get right in among them and finish this quickly.”
* * *
Max looked at his watch.
“It’s just after three,” Michael, who was always looking at his, informed him.
“The Nyelda says any time now.”
“I thought we might see him by now. I mean, it’s such a clear sky.”
Max shrugged.
“I hate this waiting, Max,” Liz clasped his hand.
“Me too,” Max nodded.
“Oh. My. God.” Maria was staring up into the clear sky.
From nothing, strange clouds started to appear, almost like they were boiling into existence, an effect of the heat generated by the ship’s entry into the atmosphere condensing the cold air that it met. The cloud bank grew from a small spot to cover a huge expanse of sky. Lighting flickered within the cloud. Max could hear the cries from among the seasoned men in the nearby squad. It was very intimidating. Slowly, from the blue black clouds, a strange, solid shape was taking form. A space ship was materializing right in front of their eyes. Liz gasped. She grabbed Max’s arm and held it tight. To Max, it was strangely beautiful, an awesome sight. Thankfully, it was not as big as he had supposed. It was no bigger than a football stadium, though that was large enough. Nevertheless, it still instilled a sense of fear and panic into the men. Max had no doubt that everyone else was affected in the same way.
“Relax,” Max urged over the radio. He managed to keep his voice calm and free from fear. “Take it easy. Stand firm. Rely on your training and your instincts, and we’ll get through this.”
It was a soothing voice, one that instilled confidence. The sense of fear faded from the squad nearest to Max as his words calmed them. He hoped that the same effect was spreading throughout his army. High in the upper reaches of the atmosphere, the sleek machine stilled to a halt. The huge space ship hung motionless, suspended in the air, a seemingly impossible task. Kivar had arrived.
* * *
Last edited by WR on Fri Feb 06, 2004 3:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
WR
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 388
- Joined: Sat Oct 13, 2001 10:22 am
- Location: Somewhere over England
Part 77
“He obviously suspects that we got some big guns,” Michael grunted. “I bet he’s stopped just outside of our range.”
“It’s out of our range, yes,” Mantik nodded. “But that’s the standard height for releasing his drop ships. They park at the edge of the atmosphere to maximize the effect of gravity. They free fall, generating incredible speed and use powerful retro fields to cushion the impact. Less engine and fuel means more space for men and weapons. It’s a very effective and efficient way to wage war on an area devastated by his aerial bombardment.”
“When will that start?” Max had not taken his eyes off of the ship since it had appeared.
“Any moment now,” Mantik shook his head. “That’s why he stopped his ship. When it moves, it’s harder to lock onto a target. It would just be shooting randomly. Normally, the sky would be crawling with fighters, to screen the ship from surface to air missiles, and hostile ships, but as he knows we have nothing to penetrate his shield, or any fighters of our own, he has not brought any. More room for extra men and drop ships.”
“When you say targeting,” Max looked away at last. “You mean he will have sensors, and can locate the positions of all the Antarians?”
“Yes,” Mantik gave a slow nod of his head,
“Maybe we should have considered that,” Michael scratched the bridge of his nose. “Pulled them further back, so his bombardment was away from the rest of the men.”
“No,” Max shook his head. “I can’t afford to split everyone up. I doubt Kivar will target just the Antarians. If I were him, I would pepper the landing area as well, just to spook the humans.”
“It’s going to work, your majesty,” Mantik frowned. “There’s nothing worse than incoming fire that you can’t do anything about.”
“I know,” Max turned to his runners.
“Find us a couple of four by fours. Three or four. Hurry.”
The men sped away.
“What are you going to do, Max?” Liz sounded concerned.
“We’re going to circulate, Liz. All of us. We’re going to visit the troops on the ground while they face the bombardment and let them know that we’re not hiding in some out of the way place. What they face, I will face. I have to keep their spirits up.”
“Max, you can’t!” Michael ordered.
“I can,” Max nodded. He looked at his friend. “And I will.”
It was Connie who spotted them first.
“There!” she exclaimed, pointing at the ship with one hand while the other shielded her eyes from the sun’s glare. “They’re coming!”
Everyone looked in the direction she was pointing. From what appeared to be the front end of the motionless ship, a line of specs had appeared.
“The first wave,” Mantik nodded. “There should be eight of them.”
“Maybe they have fighters after all,” Michael stared up into the sky. “He hasn’t started his bombardment yet.”
“He’s not going to,” Max understood the situation. “He’s not sure which of the contacts belong to us. He wants us alive and won’t risk killing us with a random blast.”
“So those are the first of the drop ships?”
“Uh huh,” Max nodded.
“Shall I give the command to open fire?”
“Not yet,” Max shook his head. “Wait till they’re in range. Let’s not warn Kivar of his danger until the last minute. Maybe he’ll drop a second wave before he realizes what’s happening. The more we eliminate on the way down, the less we have to face on the ground.”
“That makes sense,” Michael agreed.
He stared up at the falling ships.
“You won’t see them,” Mantik grinned.
He knew what Michael was trying to do.
“I know that,” Michael looked embarrassed.
Max started to chuckle as he reached for the radio transmitter.
“Stand by, canons,” he spoke. “To quote a famous expression, don’t shoot till you see the whites of their eyes.”
“Remember the Alamo,” someone close by shouted.
“Men,” Liz rolled her eyes.
Maria, Connie and Isabel started to grin.
“Second wave has been dropped,” Serena observed.
More than a thousand pairs of eyes watched the ships fall, their fingers resting on the triggers of whatever weapon they carried. Although they were afraid, they were determined to do what they had come to do. Those who had faced aliens before, although nervous, did their best to exude the confidence that they all had for Max and the others. They knew what he was capable of, and knew that they had his trust. They would not let him down, nor allow the others they served with, to let him down. They spoke words of comfort to the rookies, making sure that the many who spoke little or no English understood the sentiments. Max would expect no less from them.
“Steady,” Major Armstead called to his troops in his sector. “Max knows what he’s doing. He hasn’t led us here for nothing. If he thinks we can win, then I for one, believe him.”
In another sector, Colonel Roberts was doing the same thing.
“I saw him face a whole battalion of his enemies, just him and Kyle, a human,” he told those who could listen. “Two of them against so many, and they still came out unscathed. Trust in Max and we will prevail.”
Commanders in others sectors issued similar comfort. Tales of Max, Michael, Kyle, Isabel and even Connie’s exploits were told and retold.
“They’re kids,” they reminded themselves. “They’re kids and they’re not afraid. We’re trained professionals. Why should we be afraid?”
The hearts were less brave, and less confident in town, where hundreds of thousands of pairs of eyes watched the black specs falling from the ship that had fear and total despair through the gathered civilians. From their vantage point on top of the Crashdown Café, seven pairs of eyes, Philip and Diane Evans, Jeff and Nancy Parker, Amy and Jim Valenti, and Mrs. Ramirez clung to one another, offering what support they could. Tears rolled down their eyes. No one spoke. There was no need. Instead, they offered silent prayers to whatever gods that would listen, asking that their children would remain safe.
* * *
“Steady,” Max’s voice murmured softly over the airwaves. It was calm; it was soothing, yet it was authoritative. “Steady.”
The drop ships continued their free fall as soldiers sweated nervously, waiting for the opportunity to do something.
“The third wave’s on the way,” someone warned.
At last, the first wave of the enemy fell within Max’s range.
“Fire canons!” Max exclaimed.
The four canons leapt into life as the gunners, keeping their chosen target in the sighting mechanism squeezed the triggers. Of the four shots, there were three direct hits. Three drop ships disappeared in a hail of fragments of hot metal. The fourth took a hit on one edge, but still it fell. Cursing himself, the gunner who missed hurried to align his sights again. He chose to ignore the damaged ship but targeted the next one that entered his sector. He pulled the trigger and heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the huge blooming fireball erupt through his sights. Three other fireballs indicated three more destroyed ships.
The roar of approval from the town of Roswell, miles away drowned the cheers throughout the military encampment. Around the world, people glued to their television sets watching the battle as it happened, cheered and hooted their joy. Perhaps this would not be so bad after all.
“Steady,” Max’s voice warned his men through the radio. “Let’s not get carried away. We have enemy on the ground. Let’s take care of them.”
Max lifted his binoculars to his eyes as he watched the damaged ship fire the retro rockets and land. It hit the ground with a jolt. He saw a doorway open.
“They’re badly beat up,” Michael told him as he stared at the first dazed alien soldier to emerge. “The retro didn’t work properly and most of them died in the impact. They have little fight left in them at the moment. Give the order to wipe them out before they recover.”
“Ground troops, take them out,” Max ordered through the radio. “Cannons get ready for the next wave.” He released the transmitter and looked up. “How many waves?” he asked.
“Five more in total,” Liz told him.
“I hope we can keep this up.”
In the next wave, they were not so lucky. While Max’s ground troops finished off Kivar’s dazed soldiers, the canons leapt into life, targeting the next set of drop ships. Of the eight, only five were destroyed. Three ships landed safely, and the troops inside leapt out to take what defensive cover they could in the featureless desert.
“Don’t let any of them reach you,” Max warned. “They’ll shapeshift and then we won’t know who is who.”
As a fierce firefight erupted on the plains, the canons kept up the relentless barrage against the falling ships. When not aimed against a drop ship, the gunner aimed at the troops on the ground. Things were getting better as the gunners grew accustomed to firing under pressure. From the third wave, only two ships landed safely. From the fourth, it was only a solitary ship that touched down and released the warriors from inside. The enemy soldiers on the ground were not securing their beachhead.
Although the fighting on the ground was fierce, it was taking time. Mortars and grenades rained down on Kivar’s soldiers, who were kept pinned down in a deadly crossfire from Max’s units who had moved in from all sides.
“It might interest you to know,” Mantik grinned, as Max called out orders to his units who were mopping up the enemy on the ground. “Kivar has stopped sending drop ships.”
“That’s good, right?” he looked at the commander of his Antarian forces.
“For now,” he nodded. “You have forced Kivar to rethink his tactics. They have never failed before.”
“He’s never not used his long range canons before,” Michael growled.
“We still have some ground troops to take care of,” Max excused himself. “Roberts,” he called into the transmitter. “Start to close in. Use suppressive fire, just like your training.”
“Roger, Max,” Robert’s responded.
Around the defensive pockets, the fire intensified as the squads closed in. The return fire was getting weaker.
“They’ll surrender,” Max stared at the streaking lines of light, and flowering explosions. “Won’t they?”
“They might,” Michael smirked. “But they’ll only try it once.”
“What do you mean?” Max dropped his binoculars and stared at Michael.
“They don’t want to take prisoners, Max. These are Kivar’s men, and they won’t trust them. There’s not a soldier out there, Antarian or human who will accept the surrender from any of Kivar’s men.”
“But…”
“No buts, Max. They’re not doing this for you. They’re doing this for themselves.”
“I don’t like it, Michael,” Max growled.
He turned to the radio to issue an order.
“You don’t have to like it,” Michael stopped him. “You just have to accept that not everyone has the same morals as you. They all remember how Grier tried to kill Liz after he had surrendered. The Antarians remember atrocities that Kivar’s men committed on Antar, and the humans are only too aware of the atrocities that will happed if he wins. So let them do this.”
“This is how feuds start, Michael,” Max pleaded. “Don’t let this turn into a hatred between us and Krescasent.”
“Sire,” Mantik stepped up. “There is nothing you can do about that. If we should win, then there is no one in the house of Krescasent, save those who rebelled against Kivar in the early days, who will be allowed to live. Please, do not interfere. As long as they remain alive, they will always pose a threat.”
“Max,” Liz laid her arm on his. “I know it’s against everything you believe in. And everyone knows how you feel, but remember. This is their life too.”
Max closed his eyes, exhaled, and nodded.
Out on the field, the fighting drew to a close. The last of the drop ships had either been obliterated, or they had landed and their passengers destroyed in the fighting when they leapt out into the middle of a hailstorm of flying death. Everyone in the command tent could not help grinning, amazed at how well it had all gone. They had done it. They had repelled Kivar. They firmly believed that it was all over bar the shouting.
* * *
Jose Perez knew that something was up when he emerged from his tent that morning and sensed the fear in the air. Everyone was making their way to the edge of the makeshift camp. He picked up his guitar case, and followed them. There would be time for ablutions later. At the road that led to the part of the desert that had become the Alien encampment, National Guard had been drafted in to hold the crowds back.
“That’s okay,” he whispered to his guitar case. “We know all about moving unseen by our enemies, don’t we?”
Perez returned to his tent, and pulled some desert camouflage clothing from his pack. He then crossed the shanty town, making his way in to Roswell itself. He hot wired an old truck, and drove away from the center of activity. He angled himself so that he drove in a long wide circle, so that he could come up on his destination from behind. He parked the old truck behind some rocks, and changed into his desert camouflage combat clothing. He tore apart his old clothes, and wrapped the strips of cloth around the sniper rifle that he pulled from his guitar case.
“You and me, babe,” he grinned. “Let’s go and fuck the Evans.”
It was hot, dirty work, but Perez persevered with his task and crawled on his hand and knees, and sometimes his belly, across miles of desert. He was still some way from the area he spotted at once as the command tent when he heard the sound of gunfire. He looked skyward and saw the ships approaching.
“Perfect, babe,” he stroked his rifle. “I couldn’t have planned a better diversion. Who the hell looks down here at the ground when there are fireworks in the sky?”
He was able to move faster now that he knew that no one would be watching out here. It took him a while, but he finally found a vantage point. Although it was inside the perimeter formed by Max’s troops, it wasn’t close to any of the ships that had landed. Perez pulled the sighting scope from its protective case strapped to his back, and peered through it at the command tent.
“Perfect,” he grinned as he focussed on the forehead of Max Evans, talking to Michael Guerin. He moved the scope, and found Liz, the charming young wife, as always by her husband’s side.
“They say that revenge is a dish best served cold,” he whispered. “And what better to do it when no one will ever know it was us.”
He fixed the scope to his rifle, and made a few adjustments. At last, he aimed the rifle at Max, and thrilled in the joy that spread through his body at finally having his nemesis in his sights. He used a small screwdriver to perform some fine tuning and once again centered Max’s head in the scope. He moved the gun down and to the left and found Liz where he knew she would be. Grinning like the cat with all the cream, Perez pulled out two special bullets. Both had a name engraved on its casing. One read ‘Max’, and the other, ‘Liz’.
“Bullets with your names on them,” he grinned.
He slid the first bullet into the chamber, and the other into the magazine clip. He laid himself flat and allowed his breathing to calm. He took careful aim, centering the sight over Max’s right eye, just as he was shaking his head. He loved the look of worry that appeared on his face as he seemed to hear some news he did not like. He loved that Max would never know what hit him. That one second he would be concerned over something, and the next… oblivion.
“Max Evans,” Jose Perez, formerly known as FBI Special Agent Steven Baurline grinned as he allowed his finger to give the trigger a squeeze. “You’re fucked.”
* * *
Soldiers were dancing with glee. Helmets were thrown into the air. It was a case of celebrations all around.
“Hold your positions!” Max barked.
No one was listening.
“He’s not retreating,” Kyle stated the obvious. “Why doesn’t he just run away and lick his wounds?”
“Because I don’t think this is over, yet,” Max shook his head.
“I agree with his majesty,” Mantik nodded. “We have just shown Kivar the folly of attempting to land in a defended position without bombardment support first.”
A sudden screaming sound silenced the jubilant scenes. A deafening roar changed the entire scene. Although the first blast exploded harmlessly in the empty desert, the shock wave was enough to knock people off of their feet a hundred yards away.
“Everyone take cover!” Max ordered.
Moments later, another explosion tore a piece of the desert apart. Screams followed this as bodies were hurled through the air.
“Shit,” Michael cursed.
“Oh, no,” Max shook his head as he stared in horror at the devastation.
“We knew there would be casualties,” Mantik places a hand on Max’s shoulder.
“I can’t look,” Liz buried her face into Max’s chest.
Max watched with a look of numb helplessness as explosion after explosion ripped through his men. Most of the shots hit empty desert, but every now and then, one of the heavy canon blasts exploded amid men that Max had known. Max had never been more sickened or disgusted by the sheer violence of it all. He felt so impotent. Below him, the gunner was knocked clear of his canon by a shock wave as a blast ripped through the edge of his squad. Debris flew in all direction, ripping through the command tent. Liz screamed. At once, Max turned to her. A rock had smashed into her arm and stone fragments lacerated her face. His reaction was instinctive. Seconds later, there were no signs that Liz had been hurt. Max, however, was clearly injured. Ensuring that Liz was okay, he ran down the slope to vacant canon, and with Liz, Isabel and Michael screaming at him, he started firing up at Kivar’s ship, hopelessly out of reach.
“Order a withdrawal,” Max commanded when Michael reached him. His sudden anger abated, Max climbed down from the gun. He looked around. “Kyle, Jesse, escort the ladies back to the tents. Connie, you too. I want them away from here, now.”
“But, Max,” Liz started.
“No, Liz,” Max shook his head. He held her shoulders. “Please. Just this once. Do as I say.”
“Yes, Max,” she nodded. She knew better than to make Max look silly just now. They would discuss this later.
Both Connie and Maria realized the futility in complaining. Max had that look about him. If Liz had backed down, then they stood no chance. Isabel too decided against arguing.
“Michael, come with me,” Max turned toward the four by fours he ordered brought to him earlier.
“Where are we going?” Michael looked concerned.
“To let everyone know that we risk what they risk,” he jumped into the driver’s seat.
The jeep leapt into life and then sped away. Max drove from one squad to another, helping where he could, urging his men to take whatever cover they could find. He ordered whatever commanders remained in charge to make a slow withdrawal, making sure to spread the men wider apart. He also ordered that the canons be moved to safety. One of them had taken a direct hit and was now lost. A few of Kivar’s shots narrowly missed them, causing Michael to demand that they return to safety. Max ignored him. All around them was total mayhem. Max was trying to be everywhere at once, and it was draining him. Michael wished that Liz had not given in to Max so easily. He needed her here right now. It was enough though, that Max was listening to everyone’s advice, and though it killed him inside, had refrained from healing anyone, revealing something they decided would be better kept secret. Not for the first time that day, Michael wished it was all over. And then it was. Silence reigned across the desert once more as the screaming canon stopped. Max stopped the Jeep and looked up at the space ship, fearing that the drop ships would start again. The silence grew as the wait for something to happen became unendurable. A loud whistling sound pierced the sky.
“PEOPLE OF EARTH!” a commanding voice boomed across the desert from the space ship hovering above them. “I HAVE ORDERED A CEASEFIRE, FOR NOW. I WILL GIVE YOU TWENTY FOUR OF YOUR EARTH HOURS TO DELIVER KING ZAN TO ME, AND TO SURRENDER YOUR PLANET OR I WILL OBLITERATE THE AREA KNOWN AS ROSWELL, NEW MEXICO AND EVERYONE IN IT. I WILL THN MOVE ON, DESTROYING ONE CITY AT A TIME UNTIL MY DEMANDS ARE MET.”
The ship started to disappear into the cloud it had generated. After a few moments, it had vanished. A kind of peace settled over the desert.
* * *
“He obviously suspects that we got some big guns,” Michael grunted. “I bet he’s stopped just outside of our range.”
“It’s out of our range, yes,” Mantik nodded. “But that’s the standard height for releasing his drop ships. They park at the edge of the atmosphere to maximize the effect of gravity. They free fall, generating incredible speed and use powerful retro fields to cushion the impact. Less engine and fuel means more space for men and weapons. It’s a very effective and efficient way to wage war on an area devastated by his aerial bombardment.”
“When will that start?” Max had not taken his eyes off of the ship since it had appeared.
“Any moment now,” Mantik shook his head. “That’s why he stopped his ship. When it moves, it’s harder to lock onto a target. It would just be shooting randomly. Normally, the sky would be crawling with fighters, to screen the ship from surface to air missiles, and hostile ships, but as he knows we have nothing to penetrate his shield, or any fighters of our own, he has not brought any. More room for extra men and drop ships.”
“When you say targeting,” Max looked away at last. “You mean he will have sensors, and can locate the positions of all the Antarians?”
“Yes,” Mantik gave a slow nod of his head,
“Maybe we should have considered that,” Michael scratched the bridge of his nose. “Pulled them further back, so his bombardment was away from the rest of the men.”
“No,” Max shook his head. “I can’t afford to split everyone up. I doubt Kivar will target just the Antarians. If I were him, I would pepper the landing area as well, just to spook the humans.”
“It’s going to work, your majesty,” Mantik frowned. “There’s nothing worse than incoming fire that you can’t do anything about.”
“I know,” Max turned to his runners.
“Find us a couple of four by fours. Three or four. Hurry.”
The men sped away.
“What are you going to do, Max?” Liz sounded concerned.
“We’re going to circulate, Liz. All of us. We’re going to visit the troops on the ground while they face the bombardment and let them know that we’re not hiding in some out of the way place. What they face, I will face. I have to keep their spirits up.”
“Max, you can’t!” Michael ordered.
“I can,” Max nodded. He looked at his friend. “And I will.”
It was Connie who spotted them first.
“There!” she exclaimed, pointing at the ship with one hand while the other shielded her eyes from the sun’s glare. “They’re coming!”
Everyone looked in the direction she was pointing. From what appeared to be the front end of the motionless ship, a line of specs had appeared.
“The first wave,” Mantik nodded. “There should be eight of them.”
“Maybe they have fighters after all,” Michael stared up into the sky. “He hasn’t started his bombardment yet.”
“He’s not going to,” Max understood the situation. “He’s not sure which of the contacts belong to us. He wants us alive and won’t risk killing us with a random blast.”
“So those are the first of the drop ships?”
“Uh huh,” Max nodded.
“Shall I give the command to open fire?”
“Not yet,” Max shook his head. “Wait till they’re in range. Let’s not warn Kivar of his danger until the last minute. Maybe he’ll drop a second wave before he realizes what’s happening. The more we eliminate on the way down, the less we have to face on the ground.”
“That makes sense,” Michael agreed.
He stared up at the falling ships.
“You won’t see them,” Mantik grinned.
He knew what Michael was trying to do.
“I know that,” Michael looked embarrassed.
Max started to chuckle as he reached for the radio transmitter.
“Stand by, canons,” he spoke. “To quote a famous expression, don’t shoot till you see the whites of their eyes.”
“Remember the Alamo,” someone close by shouted.
“Men,” Liz rolled her eyes.
Maria, Connie and Isabel started to grin.
“Second wave has been dropped,” Serena observed.
More than a thousand pairs of eyes watched the ships fall, their fingers resting on the triggers of whatever weapon they carried. Although they were afraid, they were determined to do what they had come to do. Those who had faced aliens before, although nervous, did their best to exude the confidence that they all had for Max and the others. They knew what he was capable of, and knew that they had his trust. They would not let him down, nor allow the others they served with, to let him down. They spoke words of comfort to the rookies, making sure that the many who spoke little or no English understood the sentiments. Max would expect no less from them.
“Steady,” Major Armstead called to his troops in his sector. “Max knows what he’s doing. He hasn’t led us here for nothing. If he thinks we can win, then I for one, believe him.”
In another sector, Colonel Roberts was doing the same thing.
“I saw him face a whole battalion of his enemies, just him and Kyle, a human,” he told those who could listen. “Two of them against so many, and they still came out unscathed. Trust in Max and we will prevail.”
Commanders in others sectors issued similar comfort. Tales of Max, Michael, Kyle, Isabel and even Connie’s exploits were told and retold.
“They’re kids,” they reminded themselves. “They’re kids and they’re not afraid. We’re trained professionals. Why should we be afraid?”
The hearts were less brave, and less confident in town, where hundreds of thousands of pairs of eyes watched the black specs falling from the ship that had fear and total despair through the gathered civilians. From their vantage point on top of the Crashdown Café, seven pairs of eyes, Philip and Diane Evans, Jeff and Nancy Parker, Amy and Jim Valenti, and Mrs. Ramirez clung to one another, offering what support they could. Tears rolled down their eyes. No one spoke. There was no need. Instead, they offered silent prayers to whatever gods that would listen, asking that their children would remain safe.
* * *
“Steady,” Max’s voice murmured softly over the airwaves. It was calm; it was soothing, yet it was authoritative. “Steady.”
The drop ships continued their free fall as soldiers sweated nervously, waiting for the opportunity to do something.
“The third wave’s on the way,” someone warned.
At last, the first wave of the enemy fell within Max’s range.
“Fire canons!” Max exclaimed.
The four canons leapt into life as the gunners, keeping their chosen target in the sighting mechanism squeezed the triggers. Of the four shots, there were three direct hits. Three drop ships disappeared in a hail of fragments of hot metal. The fourth took a hit on one edge, but still it fell. Cursing himself, the gunner who missed hurried to align his sights again. He chose to ignore the damaged ship but targeted the next one that entered his sector. He pulled the trigger and heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the huge blooming fireball erupt through his sights. Three other fireballs indicated three more destroyed ships.
The roar of approval from the town of Roswell, miles away drowned the cheers throughout the military encampment. Around the world, people glued to their television sets watching the battle as it happened, cheered and hooted their joy. Perhaps this would not be so bad after all.
“Steady,” Max’s voice warned his men through the radio. “Let’s not get carried away. We have enemy on the ground. Let’s take care of them.”
Max lifted his binoculars to his eyes as he watched the damaged ship fire the retro rockets and land. It hit the ground with a jolt. He saw a doorway open.
“They’re badly beat up,” Michael told him as he stared at the first dazed alien soldier to emerge. “The retro didn’t work properly and most of them died in the impact. They have little fight left in them at the moment. Give the order to wipe them out before they recover.”
“Ground troops, take them out,” Max ordered through the radio. “Cannons get ready for the next wave.” He released the transmitter and looked up. “How many waves?” he asked.
“Five more in total,” Liz told him.
“I hope we can keep this up.”
In the next wave, they were not so lucky. While Max’s ground troops finished off Kivar’s dazed soldiers, the canons leapt into life, targeting the next set of drop ships. Of the eight, only five were destroyed. Three ships landed safely, and the troops inside leapt out to take what defensive cover they could in the featureless desert.
“Don’t let any of them reach you,” Max warned. “They’ll shapeshift and then we won’t know who is who.”
As a fierce firefight erupted on the plains, the canons kept up the relentless barrage against the falling ships. When not aimed against a drop ship, the gunner aimed at the troops on the ground. Things were getting better as the gunners grew accustomed to firing under pressure. From the third wave, only two ships landed safely. From the fourth, it was only a solitary ship that touched down and released the warriors from inside. The enemy soldiers on the ground were not securing their beachhead.
Although the fighting on the ground was fierce, it was taking time. Mortars and grenades rained down on Kivar’s soldiers, who were kept pinned down in a deadly crossfire from Max’s units who had moved in from all sides.
“It might interest you to know,” Mantik grinned, as Max called out orders to his units who were mopping up the enemy on the ground. “Kivar has stopped sending drop ships.”
“That’s good, right?” he looked at the commander of his Antarian forces.
“For now,” he nodded. “You have forced Kivar to rethink his tactics. They have never failed before.”
“He’s never not used his long range canons before,” Michael growled.
“We still have some ground troops to take care of,” Max excused himself. “Roberts,” he called into the transmitter. “Start to close in. Use suppressive fire, just like your training.”
“Roger, Max,” Robert’s responded.
Around the defensive pockets, the fire intensified as the squads closed in. The return fire was getting weaker.
“They’ll surrender,” Max stared at the streaking lines of light, and flowering explosions. “Won’t they?”
“They might,” Michael smirked. “But they’ll only try it once.”
“What do you mean?” Max dropped his binoculars and stared at Michael.
“They don’t want to take prisoners, Max. These are Kivar’s men, and they won’t trust them. There’s not a soldier out there, Antarian or human who will accept the surrender from any of Kivar’s men.”
“But…”
“No buts, Max. They’re not doing this for you. They’re doing this for themselves.”
“I don’t like it, Michael,” Max growled.
He turned to the radio to issue an order.
“You don’t have to like it,” Michael stopped him. “You just have to accept that not everyone has the same morals as you. They all remember how Grier tried to kill Liz after he had surrendered. The Antarians remember atrocities that Kivar’s men committed on Antar, and the humans are only too aware of the atrocities that will happed if he wins. So let them do this.”
“This is how feuds start, Michael,” Max pleaded. “Don’t let this turn into a hatred between us and Krescasent.”
“Sire,” Mantik stepped up. “There is nothing you can do about that. If we should win, then there is no one in the house of Krescasent, save those who rebelled against Kivar in the early days, who will be allowed to live. Please, do not interfere. As long as they remain alive, they will always pose a threat.”
“Max,” Liz laid her arm on his. “I know it’s against everything you believe in. And everyone knows how you feel, but remember. This is their life too.”
Max closed his eyes, exhaled, and nodded.
Out on the field, the fighting drew to a close. The last of the drop ships had either been obliterated, or they had landed and their passengers destroyed in the fighting when they leapt out into the middle of a hailstorm of flying death. Everyone in the command tent could not help grinning, amazed at how well it had all gone. They had done it. They had repelled Kivar. They firmly believed that it was all over bar the shouting.
* * *
Jose Perez knew that something was up when he emerged from his tent that morning and sensed the fear in the air. Everyone was making their way to the edge of the makeshift camp. He picked up his guitar case, and followed them. There would be time for ablutions later. At the road that led to the part of the desert that had become the Alien encampment, National Guard had been drafted in to hold the crowds back.
“That’s okay,” he whispered to his guitar case. “We know all about moving unseen by our enemies, don’t we?”
Perez returned to his tent, and pulled some desert camouflage clothing from his pack. He then crossed the shanty town, making his way in to Roswell itself. He hot wired an old truck, and drove away from the center of activity. He angled himself so that he drove in a long wide circle, so that he could come up on his destination from behind. He parked the old truck behind some rocks, and changed into his desert camouflage combat clothing. He tore apart his old clothes, and wrapped the strips of cloth around the sniper rifle that he pulled from his guitar case.
“You and me, babe,” he grinned. “Let’s go and fuck the Evans.”
It was hot, dirty work, but Perez persevered with his task and crawled on his hand and knees, and sometimes his belly, across miles of desert. He was still some way from the area he spotted at once as the command tent when he heard the sound of gunfire. He looked skyward and saw the ships approaching.
“Perfect, babe,” he stroked his rifle. “I couldn’t have planned a better diversion. Who the hell looks down here at the ground when there are fireworks in the sky?”
He was able to move faster now that he knew that no one would be watching out here. It took him a while, but he finally found a vantage point. Although it was inside the perimeter formed by Max’s troops, it wasn’t close to any of the ships that had landed. Perez pulled the sighting scope from its protective case strapped to his back, and peered through it at the command tent.
“Perfect,” he grinned as he focussed on the forehead of Max Evans, talking to Michael Guerin. He moved the scope, and found Liz, the charming young wife, as always by her husband’s side.
“They say that revenge is a dish best served cold,” he whispered. “And what better to do it when no one will ever know it was us.”
He fixed the scope to his rifle, and made a few adjustments. At last, he aimed the rifle at Max, and thrilled in the joy that spread through his body at finally having his nemesis in his sights. He used a small screwdriver to perform some fine tuning and once again centered Max’s head in the scope. He moved the gun down and to the left and found Liz where he knew she would be. Grinning like the cat with all the cream, Perez pulled out two special bullets. Both had a name engraved on its casing. One read ‘Max’, and the other, ‘Liz’.
“Bullets with your names on them,” he grinned.
He slid the first bullet into the chamber, and the other into the magazine clip. He laid himself flat and allowed his breathing to calm. He took careful aim, centering the sight over Max’s right eye, just as he was shaking his head. He loved the look of worry that appeared on his face as he seemed to hear some news he did not like. He loved that Max would never know what hit him. That one second he would be concerned over something, and the next… oblivion.
“Max Evans,” Jose Perez, formerly known as FBI Special Agent Steven Baurline grinned as he allowed his finger to give the trigger a squeeze. “You’re fucked.”
* * *
Soldiers were dancing with glee. Helmets were thrown into the air. It was a case of celebrations all around.
“Hold your positions!” Max barked.
No one was listening.
“He’s not retreating,” Kyle stated the obvious. “Why doesn’t he just run away and lick his wounds?”
“Because I don’t think this is over, yet,” Max shook his head.
“I agree with his majesty,” Mantik nodded. “We have just shown Kivar the folly of attempting to land in a defended position without bombardment support first.”
A sudden screaming sound silenced the jubilant scenes. A deafening roar changed the entire scene. Although the first blast exploded harmlessly in the empty desert, the shock wave was enough to knock people off of their feet a hundred yards away.
“Everyone take cover!” Max ordered.
Moments later, another explosion tore a piece of the desert apart. Screams followed this as bodies were hurled through the air.
“Shit,” Michael cursed.
“Oh, no,” Max shook his head as he stared in horror at the devastation.
“We knew there would be casualties,” Mantik places a hand on Max’s shoulder.
“I can’t look,” Liz buried her face into Max’s chest.
Max watched with a look of numb helplessness as explosion after explosion ripped through his men. Most of the shots hit empty desert, but every now and then, one of the heavy canon blasts exploded amid men that Max had known. Max had never been more sickened or disgusted by the sheer violence of it all. He felt so impotent. Below him, the gunner was knocked clear of his canon by a shock wave as a blast ripped through the edge of his squad. Debris flew in all direction, ripping through the command tent. Liz screamed. At once, Max turned to her. A rock had smashed into her arm and stone fragments lacerated her face. His reaction was instinctive. Seconds later, there were no signs that Liz had been hurt. Max, however, was clearly injured. Ensuring that Liz was okay, he ran down the slope to vacant canon, and with Liz, Isabel and Michael screaming at him, he started firing up at Kivar’s ship, hopelessly out of reach.
“Order a withdrawal,” Max commanded when Michael reached him. His sudden anger abated, Max climbed down from the gun. He looked around. “Kyle, Jesse, escort the ladies back to the tents. Connie, you too. I want them away from here, now.”
“But, Max,” Liz started.
“No, Liz,” Max shook his head. He held her shoulders. “Please. Just this once. Do as I say.”
“Yes, Max,” she nodded. She knew better than to make Max look silly just now. They would discuss this later.
Both Connie and Maria realized the futility in complaining. Max had that look about him. If Liz had backed down, then they stood no chance. Isabel too decided against arguing.
“Michael, come with me,” Max turned toward the four by fours he ordered brought to him earlier.
“Where are we going?” Michael looked concerned.
“To let everyone know that we risk what they risk,” he jumped into the driver’s seat.
The jeep leapt into life and then sped away. Max drove from one squad to another, helping where he could, urging his men to take whatever cover they could find. He ordered whatever commanders remained in charge to make a slow withdrawal, making sure to spread the men wider apart. He also ordered that the canons be moved to safety. One of them had taken a direct hit and was now lost. A few of Kivar’s shots narrowly missed them, causing Michael to demand that they return to safety. Max ignored him. All around them was total mayhem. Max was trying to be everywhere at once, and it was draining him. Michael wished that Liz had not given in to Max so easily. He needed her here right now. It was enough though, that Max was listening to everyone’s advice, and though it killed him inside, had refrained from healing anyone, revealing something they decided would be better kept secret. Not for the first time that day, Michael wished it was all over. And then it was. Silence reigned across the desert once more as the screaming canon stopped. Max stopped the Jeep and looked up at the space ship, fearing that the drop ships would start again. The silence grew as the wait for something to happen became unendurable. A loud whistling sound pierced the sky.
“PEOPLE OF EARTH!” a commanding voice boomed across the desert from the space ship hovering above them. “I HAVE ORDERED A CEASEFIRE, FOR NOW. I WILL GIVE YOU TWENTY FOUR OF YOUR EARTH HOURS TO DELIVER KING ZAN TO ME, AND TO SURRENDER YOUR PLANET OR I WILL OBLITERATE THE AREA KNOWN AS ROSWELL, NEW MEXICO AND EVERYONE IN IT. I WILL THN MOVE ON, DESTROYING ONE CITY AT A TIME UNTIL MY DEMANDS ARE MET.”
The ship started to disappear into the cloud it had generated. After a few moments, it had vanished. A kind of peace settled over the desert.
* * *
Last edited by WR on Fri Feb 13, 2004 3:56 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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WR
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 388
- Joined: Sat Oct 13, 2001 10:22 am
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Part 78
Part 78
“Do we have the figures yet?” Max looked at Colonel Roberts, who had been tasked with bring Max the battlefield casualty reports.
“Each of Kivar’s ships hold thirty men, right?” He looked toward the Antarians, who all nodded. “So we destroyed five waves of eight ships. Kivar lost forty ships, one thousand, two hundred men and all the weaponry that they would have brought with them. Those weapons are being salvaged, and will be in the hands of your Antarian guard, Max. There’s no danger of them finding there way out to the streets.”
“Good,” Max nodded.
“We only lost one of canons. Of our casualties, we were quite lucky. We had twenty three fatalities, and fifty seven wounded, less than a third of which are serious.”
“And you consider that lucky because…?” Max frowned.
“Because for some reason, Kivar can’t target us,” Serena leaned forward. “If he could, he would have blasted the areas that held the concentration of Antarian forces. Only thirty per cent of the shots from Kivar struck anywhere near our forces. The rest hit empty desert. With targeting, he would not have missed. He could have destroyed more than seventy percent of our forces.”
“Lucky,” Maria nodded.
“Max?” Kyle called out. “Did this guy you were mistaken for in Puerto Rico have any Irish blood in him?”
“Any idea as to why he can’t see us?” Michael didn’t look up from the doodle he was working on. “I mean, it’s too much to hope that his ship isn’t functioning properly, right?”
“I have a theory,” Liz spoke up.
“You do?” Serena seemed surprised.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “The Granolith.”
“But the Granolith’s not here, Liz,” Maria narrowed her eyes. “Tess took it home with her. Remember?”
“How could I forget?” Liz rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it’s not here… any more. But it was. For a long time. And you know what? I bet it left a… I don’t know. A signature or something. Kind of like radiation. I bet if we checked our own sensors, we won’t pick up any Antarians.”
“Has any one tried?” Max’s pride in his wife was unmistakable.
Everyone shook their heads. Max stood up and left the main room, entering their bedchamber. He came back out holding one of the sensors. He stared at it for a moment and handed it to Liz. Liz nodded and slid it across to Michael. Michael gave a smirk and passed it across to Serena.
“That answers that,” Max smiled at Liz. “That was good thinking.”
“It was just an idea,” Liz shrugged, self conscious of the attention.
“So basically,” Roberts stared at the blank display. “Kivar can’t see where you are and so just targets random areas?”
“Yeah,” Max nodded. “But that doesn’t mean he can’t hurt anyone, as we have seen.”
“Spread the men out more so that a direct hit only takes out one or two,” Michael shrugged. “Move the canons back a bit and we just have to rely on fighting more of them on the ground.”
“I think I should surrender,” Max stared at the table.
Everyone’s reaction was the same.
“What?”
“Maybe Kivar will leave the Earth alone if I give myself up to him,” Max sighed. “I won’t put more people at risk, just to save my own hide.”
“No way, Max,” Liz shook her head. “I won’t let you do that.”
“Max, you can’t be serious,” Michael growled.
“Do you think the people who followed you here will let you do that?” Roberts shouted.
“Max,” Isabel wailed. “You know what he’s going to do to you. Besides. It’s not just you he wants.”
“I appreciate your concerns,” Max spoke in a quiet whisper. “If anyone has any ideas on how we can defeat Kivar’s canon, then I will listen. If we can force Kivar to try another landing, and face him on the ground, then I’d agree. But I will not let people die while Kivar sits up there shooting at us like rats in a barrel. That’s plain… murder.”
“Max,” Major Armstead rose from his seat. “I’m a soldier. I always was. I always will be. In fact, I’m really glad that you came along when you did, because I was in danger of being forced to look for a civilian job. As a soldier, Max, I would rather die trying to fight that just… surrendering.”
“Is that how you all feel?” Max looked around the table.
“We’re human, Max,” Roberts shrugged. “We might fight and bicker amongst ourselves, but when you face us with the potential destruction of our planet, we all want to stand, and die if necessary, together, defending our home.”
Max looked at Roberts for a moment. The old soldier looked away. Michael grinned inwardly at the fact the not even Colonel Roberts could hold Max’s steady gaze for too long.
“Okay,” Max nodded. “Let me think about this.”
Max rose from his seat and left the tent, stepping out into the desert. Liz rose to follow him. Michael stood up and barred her way.
“He needs to be alone,” he warned.
Liz flicked her hand, not touching him, but Michael flew backwards across the tent, crashing into the far wall.
“Then I guess you don’t really know Max very well,” she snarled. “Max never ‘needs’ to be alone. He’s had far too much of that in the past.” She cast a dangerous look at Isabel, daring her to try to stop her. Isabel shook her head, holding her hands up in mock surrender. Liz followed Max.
“When will you ever learn, Spaceboy?” Maria smirked.
* * *
She found him sitting on the ground, leaning against a large rock, staring at the setting sun.
“Are you okay?” Liz slid into Max’s lap.
“I am now,” he nodded, pulling her body into his.
“Max, please tell me you won’t surrender.”
“I won’t surrender,” he grinned.
“I mean it, Max,” her glare was stern.
“Me too, Liz,” Max pushed the corner of her mouth upward with his finger. “That was just me, you know? My first reaction. Hey, what can I say? I’m still learning at this leader game.”
“You’re doing really well,” she smiled. “You’re a natural.”
“Tell me it was my destiny and I’ll spank you.”
“In that case…” Liz started.
Max placed his hand over mouth.
“I think there are more important things to think about than your gratification,” he laughed.
“Are you saying my gratification isn’t important to you?”
“Not when Kivar is about to hit us again,” he grinned. “But as soon as we have finished with him,” Max breathed. “Lets just say that I’ll give you all the gratification that you can handle.”
Liz’s bones melted beneath his heated gaze.
“I think I have a plan,” his face grew serious.
“Another one?” It was Liz’s turn to laugh. “And to think everyone calls me the planner.”
“One of the side effect of hanging around you, I guess,” Max smirked.
“It’s a tough life,” Liz shrugged. “So, will you tell me your plan?”
“Well, I’m not sure if we have enough time, but it’s worth a shot, right?”
“What’s worth a shot, Max?”
“Do you think that with help from Serena, and all of these other intelligent people around us, that you could build a rocket capable of reaching Kivar’s ship?”
“How big a rocket?” Liz’s voice was tight and dangerous. Her eyes grew hard with suspicion.
“No,” Max shook his head with a smile. “Not to carry me. A warhead of some kind.”
“Max, “ Liz frowned, the relief swept across her face. “Max, we both know that Kivar will have a shield that stops any metals passing through it.”
“Yeah,” Max grinned. “But I know something else, too, Liz.”
“Are you going to tell me, or do I have to seduce it out of you?”
“As much as I like the sound of that, time is kind of important here. I really think we should let the others know, too. So let’s go tell the others my plan, and while we are waiting for the materials to be gathered, then you can seduce me.”
Liz pulled Max into her arms and gave him a serious, passionate kiss. It made his toes curl.
“First,” she panted. “You tell me your plan. All of it.”
* * *
“Sir,” one of the soldiers called. He was staring at the ground while waving his officer over. “Over here.”
“What are you doing over there, soldier?” the officer demanded. “We didn’t post any soldiers over there.”
“I’ve found some remains, though.”
“Remains?” the officer crossed the open ground to the crater. This was the very first strike from Kivar’s bombardment.
“Yes, sir. Human remains. And this.”
The soldier raised the remnants of a rifle.
“That looks like a sniper’s rifle,” the officer stared at it. “A high powered one at that.” He looked up at his subordinate, his eyes questioning. “Max didn’t deploy any snipers, did he?”
“No, sir,” the soldier shook his head. “They were all kept back by the command tent. Max wanted to save them for when Kivar got a foothold.”
“Gather everything up,” the officer looked around at the grisly scene. “Bag it. We’ll let Max and Michael sort this one out.”
* * *
“Clever thinking, Max,” Michael grinned as they stood back and watched Liz in her element.
Connie, the least recognizable of the group, had been sent to withdraw books from the library about building rockets. These were all propped open on a table. While Liz and Serena studied the diagrams, they directed the technicians who had volunteered their services. A small but powerful rocket engine was taking shape.
“What made you think of it in the first place?” Kyle scratched his head.
“It just came to me,” Max shrugged. “When I left the tent, and stared out into the desert, I remembered something.”
“Talk us through it, man,” Jesse took a sip from the Snapple bottle.
“My first thoughts were to make the missiles from the material being held at Area 51, you know, all those space ships and stuff. But I realized that it would take too long to persuade the authorities to back us and just… give them up. We’d never assemble it all in time. So then I remembered, we made something once before. Michael did, when he killed Agent Pierce. It was seeing those guys digging in the desert that made me think of it.”
“Cadmium-x,” Kyle nodded.
“Hence the reason why all you guys with the voodoo hocus pocus powers have been out in the desert playing alchemist turning lead into gold,” Maria laughed.
“Only in their case, rock to cadmium-x,” Kyle grinned at their plan.
“So you’re making a missile to shoot him down, right?” Connie smirked. “He’ll never think it’s not made from an Earth metal.”
“Either of them,” Max grinned. “We’re making two.”
“Here comes our little Miss Scientist,” Isabel nodded at Liz who was approaching. “Hey Liz. How’s it going?”
Liz looked in a daze.
“Serena knows so much,” she shook her head.
“But you’re keeping up with her, though. Right, Chica?” Maria laughed. A proud smile came to her face. She was the wacky side kick to a brilliant scientist after all.
“I guess,” she nodded, stepping in to Max’s welcoming arms. “At least this might force Kivar down to fight normally, which means Max won’t have to consider surrendering.”
* * *
Liz and Serena were not the only ones putting their minds to good use. Just as the sun was setting, one of Max’s technicians had turned up with a mobile radar truck.
“What good is that?” Michael stared at the huge truck. “We don’t need a radar to see Kivar’s ship.”
“That’s because you don’t understand what this baby can do,” the technician grinned as he started to sort out the wiring.
“Baby?” Michael shook his head as he walked away, leaving the man to it.
There were many who worked through the night. Liz was one of them, much to Max’s displeasure. He understood how important this was and so he accepted that for once, he was not her prime concern. In a way, however, he was. The rocket was to help his future. Their future.
“That’s about all we can do, now, Liz,” Serena informed her as they stepped back from the crude rocket engine in front of them. “The technicians can handle the rest.”
“No,” Liz shook her head. “I need to…”
“Liz,” Serena wrapped her arms around her. “I know you outrank me, so ordering you won’t cut any ice, but you know that all I need to do is call Max, and…”
“I forbid you,” Liz warned.
“Max!” Serena called as she spotted him approaching the tent they had been working in.
“Morning, ladies,” Max nodded. He swept Liz into his arms. “Morning,” he breathed as he kissed her. “How are you getting on?”
“We’ve finished the engine,” Serena informed him. “The technicians can handle the rest, so there’s no need for her to stay here. She can get some sleep.”
“No,” Liz shook her head. “Max, this is too important.”
“And so are you,” he pulled her close. “Now you come with me.”
In spite of her rather feeble protests, Max swept Liz up in his arms and carried her away from the workshop and toward their tent. Liz poked her tongue at Serena who started to laugh.
“I’m not tired, Max,” she warned as he tucked her into bed.
“Hush little baby,” Max crooned. “Don’t say a word. Max is gonna buy you a mocking bird.”
Liz started to smile.
“If that mocking bird don’t sing…”
She laid her head back and allowed his soothing tone to seep through her tired mind. Max saw Liz’s eyelids drooping.
“Max is gonna buy you a diamond ring. If that diamond ring turns brass, Max is gonna buy you a looking glass. If that looking glass gets broke, Max is gonna buy you a billy goat…”
Max gazed down upon his wife’s lovely features. She had fallen asleep. He watched the gentle rising and falling of her breasts for a moment before leaning over and with a soft smile and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.
“Max?” Maria called in a whisper from the tent flap.
“In here, Maria,” Max responded in a gentle voice.
“I’ve come to relieve you,” she continued in a hushed tone. “I mean, I know you love looking after her like this, but you also have other responsibilities.”
“Liz is my most important responsibility, Maria.”
“I know, Max,” she smiled at him. “And Liz knows. Heck, the whole world knows. But right now, you have to get out there and persuade everyone that you are going to save them.”
“I’m not sure that I can,” Max allowed the worry he had been feeling all day cross his face.
“Do you think that Kennedy knew that he was going to avert a third world war, Max? Or do you ever think that Churchill always knew for a fact that he would beat Hitler? Yet you always got the impression that they knew they would win. That’s the trick, Max. Make them believe that you know you can do it, and they will believe you can do it.” She pointed to the door of the tent.
Max though for a moment.
“You’re one heck of an advisor, Maria.” Max leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”
Maria looked surprised. Her hand flew to the spot Max had kissed.
“You don’t know how glad I am that Liz didn’t see that,” Maria smirked. “I don’t ever want to experience what Tess and Michael got from her. Being blasted by my best friend is not high on my agenda.”
“What can I say?” he smirked. “If Liz loves you, then I love you.”
“Get out of here,” she swatted him.
* * *
Max’s first task was to visit the wounded soldiers. It almost destroyed him that he had been advised not to use his healing abilities on the men. They did not want to risk that particular ability becoming public, for obvious reasons. It was hard, but he put his faith in the medical staff he had accumulated who did, in fact, appear to be doing a great job. From there, he moved around the rest of the camp, doing what he could to raise the men’s – and women’s - moral. Although they were disappointed that his lovely young wife was not accompanying him, they were nevertheless happy to see that he cared enough to visit them. At last, he came upon a gathering around the radar truck.
“What’s going on here?” he asked.
“Radar,” Michael shrugged.
“Do we even need one?” Max widened his eyes.
“That’s what I said,” Michael snorted.
“It will help, yes,” the technician glared at the second in command.
“So what’s its range?” Max ran his hand along the edge of the dish.
“One hundred and fifty miles.”
“Kivar’s ship can only be seven or eight miles up,” Michael stared at him. “Isn’t that kind of overkill?”
“It’s not its range that’s its strength,” the technician beamed. “I’ve rigged up some targeting controls of our own. For the remaining canons. They’re now radar controlled. It will improve their accuracy and efficiency.”
“Good job,” Max clapped the man on his back. He gave a broad smile. “But I hope we don’t need it. Hopefully, Kivar won’t react until the missile passes through his shield. Then, with a bit of luck, it will be too late.”
“It’s always good to have a backup plan,” the technician nodded.
“Have you been talking to Liz?” Max leveled a suspicious glare at the man.
Michael and Kyle started to laugh.
* * *
“They’re here,” someone pointed at the growing cloud in the bright blue mid-afternoon sky.
“Places, everyone,” Max ordered. “Keep your wits about you. I hope it won’t come to it, but let’s assume that the missile is going to fail. Then, we won’t be surprised when it does.”
“It’ll work, Max,” Kyle grinned. “This is you we’re talking about.”
Around the battlefield, thousands of pairs of eyes watched Kivar’s return. Beyond the field, in the town, hundreds of thousands of pairs of eyes were watching what they knew would be an historic day, one way or the other. A day they hoped that they would be able to say, ‘I was there.’ Around the world, billions were glued to every available television set, watching the unfolding of the end of Max’s story. Everyone was praying to their gods for a happy ending.
“PEOPLE OF EARTH,” the great voice boomed out. “WITH MY CANON, I CAN FLATTEN THE COUNTRYSIDE AROUND YOU. I CAN OBLITERATE THE HABITATION KNOWN AS ROSWELL. I CAN TURN THE AREA KNOWN AS NEW MEXICO INTO A BARREN WASTELAND. I DEMAND THAT YOU SURRENDER THE ONES KNOWN AS ZAN AND VILONDRA TO ME. I HAVE GIVEN YOU TWENTY FOUR HOURS TO PREPARE YOUR ANSWER. WHAT HAVE YOU DECIDED?”
“Can I answer him, Max?” Roberts grinned.
“Knock yourself out,” Max handed the radio’s microphone to him.
“Screw you!” Roberts barked into the microphone.
“Eloquently put,” Kyle smirked.
“Fire one!” Max ordered.
In the small vehicle ten miles back from the main concentration of Max’s forces, Captain Fowler made history by being the first human to fire a surface to air missile at an identified, hostile alien space ship.
* * *
“Screw you?” Kivar look up at his adjutant. “Are you able to translate that?”
“No, sir,” the adjutant looked as bewildered as Kivar.
“Missile fired,” one of Kivar’s men called from the instrument panel he was bent over. “Speed and trajectory indicates impact in fifty seconds.”
“Shall I take evasive action?” the helmsman called.
“What does that stupid moron think he’s playing at?” Kivar laughed. “Surely Zan knows about our shield.”
“He always was a fool,” someone spat. “I take it that we assume that ‘Screw You’ means no. Shall I prepare the canon?”
“Target all large concentrations of ground troops,” Kivar nodded. “And make sure we don’t hit the missile’s launch site. Zan’s bound to be there. Prepare to fire on my command.”
The grinning Antarians watched the missile approach the shield. Their grins fell away when the missile passed through their protective barrier.
“Sensors detect missile constructed of Cadmium-x” someone screamed. “Impact imminent!”
“Take evasive action!” Kivar ordered.
The helmsman pressed buttons and twisted dials. Bodies tumbled along the floor while loose items rained upon them as the huge ship twisted and turned with great violence. The behemoth lurched and shuddered. Metal groaned and complained at the pressure it was put under. Crewmen screamed as they watched the missile’s approach. There was a loud bang as the projectile struck the edge of the ship, but it was only a glancing blow. It bounced harmlessly off of the hull and out of the atmosphere. The quick reactions of the helmsman, the incredible maneuverability of the ship and an awful lot of luck had saved them. There was a stunned silence as they all contemplated what might have been.
“Open fire!” Kivar ordered. “Destroy them! Destroy them all!”
* * *
The groan of disappointment was heard all around the world. No one could believe that the missile had missed Kivar’s ship.
“We should have fired them both at the same time,” Michael spat. “Maybe one of them would have hit.”
“And maybe they would have both missed,” Max shook his head. His voice was filled with dismay. “No, it’s better to have this one in reserve. As soon as he settles down, we’ll try again. Meanwhile, it’s his turn. Take cover, everyone!” Max ordered.
But Kivar did not settle down. Spooked by the ability of the Earthlings to have created a missile capable of passing his shield, he had ordered that the ship remain in motion, moving in totally random maneuvers to prevent Zan from locking on to him. He was only too aware of the danger of there being more than one missile.
Kivar’s bombardment started seconds later. The constant moving of his ship, coupled with the inability to target anything was playing havoc with his shooting, and less than one in twenty of his shots landed any where near Max’s ground units. Still, he was taking some casualties.
“I have two bogeys coming in at nine o’clock,” Connie yelled from the radar’s command console inside the truck. Her Air Force training had made her prime candidate for this role. “Bearing zero, niner, five. Range, one hundred and twenty five miles. Height, thirty thousand feet. Speed, fifteen hundred miles per hour. E.T.A. Less than five minutes.”
“Can you identify them?” Max turned away from the scene before him to look through the radar truck’s door at the radar screen. The black circle showed a huge, red blob in the middle, Kivar’s ship. From the left, two tiny white dots marked with letters and numbers moved in small steps towards it.
“The auto classifier hasn’t made… wait. It’s sorted.” The dots vanished, replaced by small symbols instead. Triangles. “Max? They F16s.”
“What good are they?” Michael growled.
“My guess is that someone saw the missile pass through the shield and are chancing their luck,” Jesse nodded.
“This is Forest’s doing,” Max shook his head. “He’s hoping to be seen as the hero who saved the Earth.”
“Stealing your thunder,” Kyle growled.
“I don’t really care, Kyle,” Max looked up. “Right now, all I care about defeating Kivar and I’ll accept anyone’s help. But we all know that he’s sending those men to their deaths.”
“Like he cares, Max,” Liz shook her head.
“Keep me informed on the progress of those planes,” Max nodded.
He turned to go back out to see what was happening. The desert was now riddled with small craters where Kivar had hit with his canon. Max scanned the areas he knew his men were positioned. He could see groups of medics tending to those who needed their services.
“How are the men holding up?” he asked the radio operator.
“Surprisingly well,” he replied. “We’ve only taken a few casualties. He’s not hitting the men very often, and when he does, they’re so well spaced… We’re getting a lot of wounded from flying debris. Nothing too serious for the most part.”
“No one’s starting to panic?”
“A few,” he shrugged. “But that happens in any theatre of operation. Soldiers expect it, so relax.”
“The F16s are starting their attack run, Max,” Connie called. “I estimate thirty seconds till they reach the shield.”
Max looked westwards and saw the two distant specs, closing fast. His eyes never left them as they drew closer and closer. Just before they reached the edge of the shield that he could not see but knew was there, the F16s both fired off two missiles. The missiles flew from the plane but exploded when they hit the unseen barrier. A strange ripple shape, like waves from a drop of water spread around the air revealing the shield’s location. The jets tried to veer away from the momentary visible barrier, but they had left it too late. Max could only shake his head in silent frustration as they crashed into the force, vaporizing instantly. He turned back to his own problems, Kivar’s gun.
“Why is he firing over there?” Max pointed to the latest explosion. It was moving away from his forces.
“He can’t aim, right?” the man shrugged. “Especially bouncing around up there like that.
Another explosion ripped the desert apart, further from his forces this time. Max’s eyes widened with realization.
“Oh no!” he screamed. “No, no, no, no!”
“What’s up?” Michael was at his side first. The others weren’t far behind.
Max pointed at the latest explosion, significantly farther away.
“So?” Michael frowned. “We don’t have any men out there. No need to worry about that.”
“Michael, he’s been getting farther and farther away with every shot.”
“So?”
“What’s beyond that ridge?”
“Shit!” Michael’s face dropped.
“Michael?” Maria had not caught the meaning. “What is it?”
“He’s zeroing in on Roswell.”
Everyone stared at Max.
“What do we do?” Roberts called across to Max.
“What can we do?” Michael snapped.
“Want us to chase with the canons? Maybe he’ll drop into range?”
“No,” Max shook his head. “Is the second missile ready?”
“It is,” Michael nodded. “But Max, the way he’s bobbing and weaving, we don’t stand a chance of hitting him. I say save it for when it will be any use.”
“I can’t just stand here and watch, Michael!”
“Max,” Liz urged. “We have to take the bad with the good. We can call our folks and make sure they take cover, and I’m sure that the rest of the people are getting out of the way.”
“I’ll call dad,” Kyle was already pressing the speed dial button.
“Good idea,” Max nodded. “Get him to evacuate as much of the town as he can.”
“Will do,” Kyle nodded. “Dad? It’s Kyle.”
“I can’t sit back here and let those innocent people die,” Max shook his head.
“Max,” Liz warned. “Don’t even think about it.”
“But, Liz…”
“No, Max. If you surrender, then I surrender with you.”
“Max!” Connie yelled. “Another bogey. Bearing two seven seven. Speed… Christ, Max, the frigging things going over three thousand miles per! Whatever it is, I’ve never seen anything go that fast before.”
“Some new secret jet from the skunk works?” Michael widened his eyes.
“The radar’s having trouble tracking it,” Connie nodded. “Might have some stealth capability.”
Max peered into the sky.
“Two, seven, seven, that would make it coming from,” he looked up to get his bearings.
“There!” Connie shouted, pointing up in the sky toward the east. Eager to see what would travel such a speed, she had left her post.
“Max!” Jesse tugged his arm. He pointed in the direction of Roswell where two large plumes of black smoke was rising.
“That’s it,” Max swore. He grabbed the radio handset. “I’m calling Kivar.”
“Max, look!” Connie was pulling at him.
Max looked up to where Connie was pointing. His eyes widened as the new aircraft struck the shield. Instead of the vaporizing he expected to see, the strange, yet familiarly shaped jet soared straight through the shield. He watched as a staccato of bright bolts of energy flew from the small aircraft, thudding into the superstructure of Kivar’s huge ship. With a belch of white smoke pouring from it, Kivar’s maneuvering ceased. He slowed to a stop and hovered imponderously.
“Wooo heeee!” a voice called over the radio waves. “That’s for all the shit you caused me last year!”
Connie’s eyes widened. Without ceremony, she snatched the handset from Max’s hand.
“Daddy?” she barked into it. “Daddy? Is that you?”
“Hey there, punkin. Did you miss your old man?”
* * *
“Do we have the figures yet?” Max looked at Colonel Roberts, who had been tasked with bring Max the battlefield casualty reports.
“Each of Kivar’s ships hold thirty men, right?” He looked toward the Antarians, who all nodded. “So we destroyed five waves of eight ships. Kivar lost forty ships, one thousand, two hundred men and all the weaponry that they would have brought with them. Those weapons are being salvaged, and will be in the hands of your Antarian guard, Max. There’s no danger of them finding there way out to the streets.”
“Good,” Max nodded.
“We only lost one of canons. Of our casualties, we were quite lucky. We had twenty three fatalities, and fifty seven wounded, less than a third of which are serious.”
“And you consider that lucky because…?” Max frowned.
“Because for some reason, Kivar can’t target us,” Serena leaned forward. “If he could, he would have blasted the areas that held the concentration of Antarian forces. Only thirty per cent of the shots from Kivar struck anywhere near our forces. The rest hit empty desert. With targeting, he would not have missed. He could have destroyed more than seventy percent of our forces.”
“Lucky,” Maria nodded.
“Max?” Kyle called out. “Did this guy you were mistaken for in Puerto Rico have any Irish blood in him?”
“Any idea as to why he can’t see us?” Michael didn’t look up from the doodle he was working on. “I mean, it’s too much to hope that his ship isn’t functioning properly, right?”
“I have a theory,” Liz spoke up.
“You do?” Serena seemed surprised.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “The Granolith.”
“But the Granolith’s not here, Liz,” Maria narrowed her eyes. “Tess took it home with her. Remember?”
“How could I forget?” Liz rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it’s not here… any more. But it was. For a long time. And you know what? I bet it left a… I don’t know. A signature or something. Kind of like radiation. I bet if we checked our own sensors, we won’t pick up any Antarians.”
“Has any one tried?” Max’s pride in his wife was unmistakable.
Everyone shook their heads. Max stood up and left the main room, entering their bedchamber. He came back out holding one of the sensors. He stared at it for a moment and handed it to Liz. Liz nodded and slid it across to Michael. Michael gave a smirk and passed it across to Serena.
“That answers that,” Max smiled at Liz. “That was good thinking.”
“It was just an idea,” Liz shrugged, self conscious of the attention.
“So basically,” Roberts stared at the blank display. “Kivar can’t see where you are and so just targets random areas?”
“Yeah,” Max nodded. “But that doesn’t mean he can’t hurt anyone, as we have seen.”
“Spread the men out more so that a direct hit only takes out one or two,” Michael shrugged. “Move the canons back a bit and we just have to rely on fighting more of them on the ground.”
“I think I should surrender,” Max stared at the table.
Everyone’s reaction was the same.
“What?”
“Maybe Kivar will leave the Earth alone if I give myself up to him,” Max sighed. “I won’t put more people at risk, just to save my own hide.”
“No way, Max,” Liz shook her head. “I won’t let you do that.”
“Max, you can’t be serious,” Michael growled.
“Do you think the people who followed you here will let you do that?” Roberts shouted.
“Max,” Isabel wailed. “You know what he’s going to do to you. Besides. It’s not just you he wants.”
“I appreciate your concerns,” Max spoke in a quiet whisper. “If anyone has any ideas on how we can defeat Kivar’s canon, then I will listen. If we can force Kivar to try another landing, and face him on the ground, then I’d agree. But I will not let people die while Kivar sits up there shooting at us like rats in a barrel. That’s plain… murder.”
“Max,” Major Armstead rose from his seat. “I’m a soldier. I always was. I always will be. In fact, I’m really glad that you came along when you did, because I was in danger of being forced to look for a civilian job. As a soldier, Max, I would rather die trying to fight that just… surrendering.”
“Is that how you all feel?” Max looked around the table.
“We’re human, Max,” Roberts shrugged. “We might fight and bicker amongst ourselves, but when you face us with the potential destruction of our planet, we all want to stand, and die if necessary, together, defending our home.”
Max looked at Roberts for a moment. The old soldier looked away. Michael grinned inwardly at the fact the not even Colonel Roberts could hold Max’s steady gaze for too long.
“Okay,” Max nodded. “Let me think about this.”
Max rose from his seat and left the tent, stepping out into the desert. Liz rose to follow him. Michael stood up and barred her way.
“He needs to be alone,” he warned.
Liz flicked her hand, not touching him, but Michael flew backwards across the tent, crashing into the far wall.
“Then I guess you don’t really know Max very well,” she snarled. “Max never ‘needs’ to be alone. He’s had far too much of that in the past.” She cast a dangerous look at Isabel, daring her to try to stop her. Isabel shook her head, holding her hands up in mock surrender. Liz followed Max.
“When will you ever learn, Spaceboy?” Maria smirked.
* * *
She found him sitting on the ground, leaning against a large rock, staring at the setting sun.
“Are you okay?” Liz slid into Max’s lap.
“I am now,” he nodded, pulling her body into his.
“Max, please tell me you won’t surrender.”
“I won’t surrender,” he grinned.
“I mean it, Max,” her glare was stern.
“Me too, Liz,” Max pushed the corner of her mouth upward with his finger. “That was just me, you know? My first reaction. Hey, what can I say? I’m still learning at this leader game.”
“You’re doing really well,” she smiled. “You’re a natural.”
“Tell me it was my destiny and I’ll spank you.”
“In that case…” Liz started.
Max placed his hand over mouth.
“I think there are more important things to think about than your gratification,” he laughed.
“Are you saying my gratification isn’t important to you?”
“Not when Kivar is about to hit us again,” he grinned. “But as soon as we have finished with him,” Max breathed. “Lets just say that I’ll give you all the gratification that you can handle.”
Liz’s bones melted beneath his heated gaze.
“I think I have a plan,” his face grew serious.
“Another one?” It was Liz’s turn to laugh. “And to think everyone calls me the planner.”
“One of the side effect of hanging around you, I guess,” Max smirked.
“It’s a tough life,” Liz shrugged. “So, will you tell me your plan?”
“Well, I’m not sure if we have enough time, but it’s worth a shot, right?”
“What’s worth a shot, Max?”
“Do you think that with help from Serena, and all of these other intelligent people around us, that you could build a rocket capable of reaching Kivar’s ship?”
“How big a rocket?” Liz’s voice was tight and dangerous. Her eyes grew hard with suspicion.
“No,” Max shook his head with a smile. “Not to carry me. A warhead of some kind.”
“Max, “ Liz frowned, the relief swept across her face. “Max, we both know that Kivar will have a shield that stops any metals passing through it.”
“Yeah,” Max grinned. “But I know something else, too, Liz.”
“Are you going to tell me, or do I have to seduce it out of you?”
“As much as I like the sound of that, time is kind of important here. I really think we should let the others know, too. So let’s go tell the others my plan, and while we are waiting for the materials to be gathered, then you can seduce me.”
Liz pulled Max into her arms and gave him a serious, passionate kiss. It made his toes curl.
“First,” she panted. “You tell me your plan. All of it.”
* * *
“Sir,” one of the soldiers called. He was staring at the ground while waving his officer over. “Over here.”
“What are you doing over there, soldier?” the officer demanded. “We didn’t post any soldiers over there.”
“I’ve found some remains, though.”
“Remains?” the officer crossed the open ground to the crater. This was the very first strike from Kivar’s bombardment.
“Yes, sir. Human remains. And this.”
The soldier raised the remnants of a rifle.
“That looks like a sniper’s rifle,” the officer stared at it. “A high powered one at that.” He looked up at his subordinate, his eyes questioning. “Max didn’t deploy any snipers, did he?”
“No, sir,” the soldier shook his head. “They were all kept back by the command tent. Max wanted to save them for when Kivar got a foothold.”
“Gather everything up,” the officer looked around at the grisly scene. “Bag it. We’ll let Max and Michael sort this one out.”
* * *
“Clever thinking, Max,” Michael grinned as they stood back and watched Liz in her element.
Connie, the least recognizable of the group, had been sent to withdraw books from the library about building rockets. These were all propped open on a table. While Liz and Serena studied the diagrams, they directed the technicians who had volunteered their services. A small but powerful rocket engine was taking shape.
“What made you think of it in the first place?” Kyle scratched his head.
“It just came to me,” Max shrugged. “When I left the tent, and stared out into the desert, I remembered something.”
“Talk us through it, man,” Jesse took a sip from the Snapple bottle.
“My first thoughts were to make the missiles from the material being held at Area 51, you know, all those space ships and stuff. But I realized that it would take too long to persuade the authorities to back us and just… give them up. We’d never assemble it all in time. So then I remembered, we made something once before. Michael did, when he killed Agent Pierce. It was seeing those guys digging in the desert that made me think of it.”
“Cadmium-x,” Kyle nodded.
“Hence the reason why all you guys with the voodoo hocus pocus powers have been out in the desert playing alchemist turning lead into gold,” Maria laughed.
“Only in their case, rock to cadmium-x,” Kyle grinned at their plan.
“So you’re making a missile to shoot him down, right?” Connie smirked. “He’ll never think it’s not made from an Earth metal.”
“Either of them,” Max grinned. “We’re making two.”
“Here comes our little Miss Scientist,” Isabel nodded at Liz who was approaching. “Hey Liz. How’s it going?”
Liz looked in a daze.
“Serena knows so much,” she shook her head.
“But you’re keeping up with her, though. Right, Chica?” Maria laughed. A proud smile came to her face. She was the wacky side kick to a brilliant scientist after all.
“I guess,” she nodded, stepping in to Max’s welcoming arms. “At least this might force Kivar down to fight normally, which means Max won’t have to consider surrendering.”
* * *
Liz and Serena were not the only ones putting their minds to good use. Just as the sun was setting, one of Max’s technicians had turned up with a mobile radar truck.
“What good is that?” Michael stared at the huge truck. “We don’t need a radar to see Kivar’s ship.”
“That’s because you don’t understand what this baby can do,” the technician grinned as he started to sort out the wiring.
“Baby?” Michael shook his head as he walked away, leaving the man to it.
There were many who worked through the night. Liz was one of them, much to Max’s displeasure. He understood how important this was and so he accepted that for once, he was not her prime concern. In a way, however, he was. The rocket was to help his future. Their future.
“That’s about all we can do, now, Liz,” Serena informed her as they stepped back from the crude rocket engine in front of them. “The technicians can handle the rest.”
“No,” Liz shook her head. “I need to…”
“Liz,” Serena wrapped her arms around her. “I know you outrank me, so ordering you won’t cut any ice, but you know that all I need to do is call Max, and…”
“I forbid you,” Liz warned.
“Max!” Serena called as she spotted him approaching the tent they had been working in.
“Morning, ladies,” Max nodded. He swept Liz into his arms. “Morning,” he breathed as he kissed her. “How are you getting on?”
“We’ve finished the engine,” Serena informed him. “The technicians can handle the rest, so there’s no need for her to stay here. She can get some sleep.”
“No,” Liz shook her head. “Max, this is too important.”
“And so are you,” he pulled her close. “Now you come with me.”
In spite of her rather feeble protests, Max swept Liz up in his arms and carried her away from the workshop and toward their tent. Liz poked her tongue at Serena who started to laugh.
“I’m not tired, Max,” she warned as he tucked her into bed.
“Hush little baby,” Max crooned. “Don’t say a word. Max is gonna buy you a mocking bird.”
Liz started to smile.
“If that mocking bird don’t sing…”
She laid her head back and allowed his soothing tone to seep through her tired mind. Max saw Liz’s eyelids drooping.
“Max is gonna buy you a diamond ring. If that diamond ring turns brass, Max is gonna buy you a looking glass. If that looking glass gets broke, Max is gonna buy you a billy goat…”
Max gazed down upon his wife’s lovely features. She had fallen asleep. He watched the gentle rising and falling of her breasts for a moment before leaning over and with a soft smile and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.
“Max?” Maria called in a whisper from the tent flap.
“In here, Maria,” Max responded in a gentle voice.
“I’ve come to relieve you,” she continued in a hushed tone. “I mean, I know you love looking after her like this, but you also have other responsibilities.”
“Liz is my most important responsibility, Maria.”
“I know, Max,” she smiled at him. “And Liz knows. Heck, the whole world knows. But right now, you have to get out there and persuade everyone that you are going to save them.”
“I’m not sure that I can,” Max allowed the worry he had been feeling all day cross his face.
“Do you think that Kennedy knew that he was going to avert a third world war, Max? Or do you ever think that Churchill always knew for a fact that he would beat Hitler? Yet you always got the impression that they knew they would win. That’s the trick, Max. Make them believe that you know you can do it, and they will believe you can do it.” She pointed to the door of the tent.
Max though for a moment.
“You’re one heck of an advisor, Maria.” Max leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”
Maria looked surprised. Her hand flew to the spot Max had kissed.
“You don’t know how glad I am that Liz didn’t see that,” Maria smirked. “I don’t ever want to experience what Tess and Michael got from her. Being blasted by my best friend is not high on my agenda.”
“What can I say?” he smirked. “If Liz loves you, then I love you.”
“Get out of here,” she swatted him.
* * *
Max’s first task was to visit the wounded soldiers. It almost destroyed him that he had been advised not to use his healing abilities on the men. They did not want to risk that particular ability becoming public, for obvious reasons. It was hard, but he put his faith in the medical staff he had accumulated who did, in fact, appear to be doing a great job. From there, he moved around the rest of the camp, doing what he could to raise the men’s – and women’s - moral. Although they were disappointed that his lovely young wife was not accompanying him, they were nevertheless happy to see that he cared enough to visit them. At last, he came upon a gathering around the radar truck.
“What’s going on here?” he asked.
“Radar,” Michael shrugged.
“Do we even need one?” Max widened his eyes.
“That’s what I said,” Michael snorted.
“It will help, yes,” the technician glared at the second in command.
“So what’s its range?” Max ran his hand along the edge of the dish.
“One hundred and fifty miles.”
“Kivar’s ship can only be seven or eight miles up,” Michael stared at him. “Isn’t that kind of overkill?”
“It’s not its range that’s its strength,” the technician beamed. “I’ve rigged up some targeting controls of our own. For the remaining canons. They’re now radar controlled. It will improve their accuracy and efficiency.”
“Good job,” Max clapped the man on his back. He gave a broad smile. “But I hope we don’t need it. Hopefully, Kivar won’t react until the missile passes through his shield. Then, with a bit of luck, it will be too late.”
“It’s always good to have a backup plan,” the technician nodded.
“Have you been talking to Liz?” Max leveled a suspicious glare at the man.
Michael and Kyle started to laugh.
* * *
“They’re here,” someone pointed at the growing cloud in the bright blue mid-afternoon sky.
“Places, everyone,” Max ordered. “Keep your wits about you. I hope it won’t come to it, but let’s assume that the missile is going to fail. Then, we won’t be surprised when it does.”
“It’ll work, Max,” Kyle grinned. “This is you we’re talking about.”
Around the battlefield, thousands of pairs of eyes watched Kivar’s return. Beyond the field, in the town, hundreds of thousands of pairs of eyes were watching what they knew would be an historic day, one way or the other. A day they hoped that they would be able to say, ‘I was there.’ Around the world, billions were glued to every available television set, watching the unfolding of the end of Max’s story. Everyone was praying to their gods for a happy ending.
“PEOPLE OF EARTH,” the great voice boomed out. “WITH MY CANON, I CAN FLATTEN THE COUNTRYSIDE AROUND YOU. I CAN OBLITERATE THE HABITATION KNOWN AS ROSWELL. I CAN TURN THE AREA KNOWN AS NEW MEXICO INTO A BARREN WASTELAND. I DEMAND THAT YOU SURRENDER THE ONES KNOWN AS ZAN AND VILONDRA TO ME. I HAVE GIVEN YOU TWENTY FOUR HOURS TO PREPARE YOUR ANSWER. WHAT HAVE YOU DECIDED?”
“Can I answer him, Max?” Roberts grinned.
“Knock yourself out,” Max handed the radio’s microphone to him.
“Screw you!” Roberts barked into the microphone.
“Eloquently put,” Kyle smirked.
“Fire one!” Max ordered.
In the small vehicle ten miles back from the main concentration of Max’s forces, Captain Fowler made history by being the first human to fire a surface to air missile at an identified, hostile alien space ship.
* * *
“Screw you?” Kivar look up at his adjutant. “Are you able to translate that?”
“No, sir,” the adjutant looked as bewildered as Kivar.
“Missile fired,” one of Kivar’s men called from the instrument panel he was bent over. “Speed and trajectory indicates impact in fifty seconds.”
“Shall I take evasive action?” the helmsman called.
“What does that stupid moron think he’s playing at?” Kivar laughed. “Surely Zan knows about our shield.”
“He always was a fool,” someone spat. “I take it that we assume that ‘Screw You’ means no. Shall I prepare the canon?”
“Target all large concentrations of ground troops,” Kivar nodded. “And make sure we don’t hit the missile’s launch site. Zan’s bound to be there. Prepare to fire on my command.”
The grinning Antarians watched the missile approach the shield. Their grins fell away when the missile passed through their protective barrier.
“Sensors detect missile constructed of Cadmium-x” someone screamed. “Impact imminent!”
“Take evasive action!” Kivar ordered.
The helmsman pressed buttons and twisted dials. Bodies tumbled along the floor while loose items rained upon them as the huge ship twisted and turned with great violence. The behemoth lurched and shuddered. Metal groaned and complained at the pressure it was put under. Crewmen screamed as they watched the missile’s approach. There was a loud bang as the projectile struck the edge of the ship, but it was only a glancing blow. It bounced harmlessly off of the hull and out of the atmosphere. The quick reactions of the helmsman, the incredible maneuverability of the ship and an awful lot of luck had saved them. There was a stunned silence as they all contemplated what might have been.
“Open fire!” Kivar ordered. “Destroy them! Destroy them all!”
* * *
The groan of disappointment was heard all around the world. No one could believe that the missile had missed Kivar’s ship.
“We should have fired them both at the same time,” Michael spat. “Maybe one of them would have hit.”
“And maybe they would have both missed,” Max shook his head. His voice was filled with dismay. “No, it’s better to have this one in reserve. As soon as he settles down, we’ll try again. Meanwhile, it’s his turn. Take cover, everyone!” Max ordered.
But Kivar did not settle down. Spooked by the ability of the Earthlings to have created a missile capable of passing his shield, he had ordered that the ship remain in motion, moving in totally random maneuvers to prevent Zan from locking on to him. He was only too aware of the danger of there being more than one missile.
Kivar’s bombardment started seconds later. The constant moving of his ship, coupled with the inability to target anything was playing havoc with his shooting, and less than one in twenty of his shots landed any where near Max’s ground units. Still, he was taking some casualties.
“I have two bogeys coming in at nine o’clock,” Connie yelled from the radar’s command console inside the truck. Her Air Force training had made her prime candidate for this role. “Bearing zero, niner, five. Range, one hundred and twenty five miles. Height, thirty thousand feet. Speed, fifteen hundred miles per hour. E.T.A. Less than five minutes.”
“Can you identify them?” Max turned away from the scene before him to look through the radar truck’s door at the radar screen. The black circle showed a huge, red blob in the middle, Kivar’s ship. From the left, two tiny white dots marked with letters and numbers moved in small steps towards it.
“The auto classifier hasn’t made… wait. It’s sorted.” The dots vanished, replaced by small symbols instead. Triangles. “Max? They F16s.”
“What good are they?” Michael growled.
“My guess is that someone saw the missile pass through the shield and are chancing their luck,” Jesse nodded.
“This is Forest’s doing,” Max shook his head. “He’s hoping to be seen as the hero who saved the Earth.”
“Stealing your thunder,” Kyle growled.
“I don’t really care, Kyle,” Max looked up. “Right now, all I care about defeating Kivar and I’ll accept anyone’s help. But we all know that he’s sending those men to their deaths.”
“Like he cares, Max,” Liz shook her head.
“Keep me informed on the progress of those planes,” Max nodded.
He turned to go back out to see what was happening. The desert was now riddled with small craters where Kivar had hit with his canon. Max scanned the areas he knew his men were positioned. He could see groups of medics tending to those who needed their services.
“How are the men holding up?” he asked the radio operator.
“Surprisingly well,” he replied. “We’ve only taken a few casualties. He’s not hitting the men very often, and when he does, they’re so well spaced… We’re getting a lot of wounded from flying debris. Nothing too serious for the most part.”
“No one’s starting to panic?”
“A few,” he shrugged. “But that happens in any theatre of operation. Soldiers expect it, so relax.”
“The F16s are starting their attack run, Max,” Connie called. “I estimate thirty seconds till they reach the shield.”
Max looked westwards and saw the two distant specs, closing fast. His eyes never left them as they drew closer and closer. Just before they reached the edge of the shield that he could not see but knew was there, the F16s both fired off two missiles. The missiles flew from the plane but exploded when they hit the unseen barrier. A strange ripple shape, like waves from a drop of water spread around the air revealing the shield’s location. The jets tried to veer away from the momentary visible barrier, but they had left it too late. Max could only shake his head in silent frustration as they crashed into the force, vaporizing instantly. He turned back to his own problems, Kivar’s gun.
“Why is he firing over there?” Max pointed to the latest explosion. It was moving away from his forces.
“He can’t aim, right?” the man shrugged. “Especially bouncing around up there like that.
Another explosion ripped the desert apart, further from his forces this time. Max’s eyes widened with realization.
“Oh no!” he screamed. “No, no, no, no!”
“What’s up?” Michael was at his side first. The others weren’t far behind.
Max pointed at the latest explosion, significantly farther away.
“So?” Michael frowned. “We don’t have any men out there. No need to worry about that.”
“Michael, he’s been getting farther and farther away with every shot.”
“So?”
“What’s beyond that ridge?”
“Shit!” Michael’s face dropped.
“Michael?” Maria had not caught the meaning. “What is it?”
“He’s zeroing in on Roswell.”
Everyone stared at Max.
“What do we do?” Roberts called across to Max.
“What can we do?” Michael snapped.
“Want us to chase with the canons? Maybe he’ll drop into range?”
“No,” Max shook his head. “Is the second missile ready?”
“It is,” Michael nodded. “But Max, the way he’s bobbing and weaving, we don’t stand a chance of hitting him. I say save it for when it will be any use.”
“I can’t just stand here and watch, Michael!”
“Max,” Liz urged. “We have to take the bad with the good. We can call our folks and make sure they take cover, and I’m sure that the rest of the people are getting out of the way.”
“I’ll call dad,” Kyle was already pressing the speed dial button.
“Good idea,” Max nodded. “Get him to evacuate as much of the town as he can.”
“Will do,” Kyle nodded. “Dad? It’s Kyle.”
“I can’t sit back here and let those innocent people die,” Max shook his head.
“Max,” Liz warned. “Don’t even think about it.”
“But, Liz…”
“No, Max. If you surrender, then I surrender with you.”
“Max!” Connie yelled. “Another bogey. Bearing two seven seven. Speed… Christ, Max, the frigging things going over three thousand miles per! Whatever it is, I’ve never seen anything go that fast before.”
“Some new secret jet from the skunk works?” Michael widened his eyes.
“The radar’s having trouble tracking it,” Connie nodded. “Might have some stealth capability.”
Max peered into the sky.
“Two, seven, seven, that would make it coming from,” he looked up to get his bearings.
“There!” Connie shouted, pointing up in the sky toward the east. Eager to see what would travel such a speed, she had left her post.
“Max!” Jesse tugged his arm. He pointed in the direction of Roswell where two large plumes of black smoke was rising.
“That’s it,” Max swore. He grabbed the radio handset. “I’m calling Kivar.”
“Max, look!” Connie was pulling at him.
Max looked up to where Connie was pointing. His eyes widened as the new aircraft struck the shield. Instead of the vaporizing he expected to see, the strange, yet familiarly shaped jet soared straight through the shield. He watched as a staccato of bright bolts of energy flew from the small aircraft, thudding into the superstructure of Kivar’s huge ship. With a belch of white smoke pouring from it, Kivar’s maneuvering ceased. He slowed to a stop and hovered imponderously.
“Wooo heeee!” a voice called over the radio waves. “That’s for all the shit you caused me last year!”
Connie’s eyes widened. Without ceremony, she snatched the handset from Max’s hand.
“Daddy?” she barked into it. “Daddy? Is that you?”
“Hey there, punkin. Did you miss your old man?”
* * *
Last edited by WR on Fri Feb 20, 2004 2:52 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
WR
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 388
- Joined: Sat Oct 13, 2001 10:22 am
- Location: Somewhere over England
Part 79
“What’s our status?” Kivar demanded, picking himself up from the floor.
His eyes were wild as he looked around the control room. The explosions that ripped through the ship’s interiors had knocked anyone not seated to their feet.
“Sir!” the adjutant called as he scrambled across the bridge. There was an element of panic in his voice. “All our engines are down. The enemy fighter has knocked them out completely. Whoever the pilot was, he knew precisely where to hit us.”
Apart from the calls as technicians screamed out orders and counter orders in an attempt to get the systems working again, the interior of the ship was strangely silent as everything that was powered by the ship’s engines had stilled. With no air conditioning plants working to clean the air, it was growing hot, and close. Wafts of blue smoke drifted in the still air, lit only by the red emergency lighting. Those crew members not active in well drilled routines looked to Kivar to guide them out of this mess.
“Fix them!” Kivar ordered. “If Zan has any more of those damned missiles, they’ll be scraping us from that planet’s surface for decades. We are completely at his mercy, here. And you all know what that means, right?”
“We’re trying Kivar,” he shook his head. “But the damage…” He waved his arms. “It’s too much. We can’t…”
“Is the shield still up?”
“Yes,” the adjutant nodded. “Its power source is internal.”
“The shield is pretty much useless to us now. See if you can reroute that power to the engines. Meanwhile, try and target the source of that earlier missile launch,” he snapped. “Knock out their missile launcher. Then see if we can’t organize some defense against that ship.”
“But we can’t,” the adjutant backed away from Kivar’s rising fury. “We lost power for the laser canon when the engines went. That ship…”
“Where did it come from, anyway?” Kivar almost screeched. “Who was tracking the Nyelda?”
“It didn’t come from the Nyelda,” someone responded.
“Then where the hell did it come from?”
“I thought it was another one of the Earthling fighters,” the scanning sensor operator shook his head in wide eyed terror. “I never dreamed it would pass the shield.”
“I think I recognized it, sir,” a technician approached him. “I remember it from an earlier mission.”
“Well?”
“It was our test ship, sir. The prototype. The one we sent here for trials to see how it maneuvered in their atmosphere.”
“Well how in hell’s name did Zan get a hold of it? I was told it crashed.”
“It did, sir,” the technician nodded. “Into the sea far to the east from here. The pilot dropped off some more bodies to Nikolas for storage, and while making its return, it crashed into a human aircraft above an island and fell to the sea. We lost all trace of it after that.”
“Yet here it is, and holding us at its mercy,” Kivar groaned. “Why must I work with incompetents? Wait a minute. It was never armed.”
“Zan must have fixed a canon to it. It’s not a difficult task.”
“Kivar!” A female’s thoughts boomed in their heads. Her command was regal, full of authority. It was a tone that demanded attention. “You know who this is.”
* * *
“Welcome home, Griffin,” Max finally greeted their savior as soon as he could free the transmitter from a speechless Connie, who was gripping the small instrument as though her life depended on it. “That was quite some entrance.”
“What can I say?” Griffin replied. “I’m playing with the big boys now. Can’t let the side down, now, can I? Want I should finish them off for you, Max?”
“Not yet,” he grinned. “Stand by for further instruction. Max, out.”
“Yes, sir. Griffin, out.”
Max could almost imagine Theodore Griffin saluting him in the cockpit of the strange, alien ship. Shaking his head with a wry smile, he turned to look at his friends. They looked back at him, disbelief on their faces. Was it really over? Silence had descended upon the battlefield. Soldiers stood and watched the giant ship, unsure if the cessation of its bombardment was good or not. They looked from the huge vessel to the small spec that had appeared from nowhere to cripple it. A true David and Goliath. Liz joined her husband, her eyes begging him to finish this off once and for all. He nodded to her, rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand and smiled. No longer would they cower beneath the threat of the end of the world.
“Do you want to do the honors, Michael?”
“If you don’t want to, then, yeah,” Michael broke into a huge grin. “I want that so much, I can taste it. But I think there’s someone else who should do this. Someone who owes him more than we do.”
“I agree,” Max nodded.
They both turned to her.
“Isabel?”
“Can I?” Isabel broke into a huge smile. “Really? Oh, yes please.”
Max nodded to her as the friends congregated into a circle. She stepped forward into their center, even though she knew there was no practical need. It was a symbolic gesture of their togetherness. She stared up at the motionless ship.
“I am so going to love this.”
She took a deep breath and stood upright, her bearing proud, and victorious.
“Kivar!” Isabel threw her thoughts out. Her command was regal, full of authority. “You know who this is.”
“Vilondra?” Kivar’s voice sounded startled. “Is that you, my beloved?”
“I’m not your beloved, Kivar,” Isabel sneered. “Not then, not now, not ever.”
“You tell him, Iz,” Liz murmured out loud.
“So how may I help you, your highness?” There was an element of mocking in his tone that seemed a little misplaced.
“It’s time to discuss your surrender.”
“Ah. I see. And where is Zan, pray tell? I couldn’t imagine the young whelp passing up on this opportunity to gloat. Why isn’t he available to demand this himself? Perhaps he and Ava are off rutting again?”
Max squeezed Liz’s hand in response to her sudden tensioning.
“You know what, Kivar?” Isabel smirked. “Zan didn’t think you were that much of a threat. He’s really busy right now. He says he has these issues to deal with that are far more important than talking to a pathetic little worm like you. Something about making sure that tonight’s victory banquet had the special soup he liked on the menu. So he asked Rath to deal with you. Except, guess what? Yup. Rath’s kinda busy too. He needs to make sure that his medals are all gleaming for the victory parade we had planned for tonight. So he asked me. And you know what, Kivar? I could have spent the time organizing my wardrobe. I have better things to do than standing here yapping with a washed up has been, but as there was no one else to deal with you, the buck stopped with me.”
“Buck? What are you talking about, Vilondra? What is a buck?”
“Okay, here’s the deal,” Isabel was grinning at her friends. She wished that Jesse, Kyle, Maria and Connie could hear her too. She was loving every minute of this encounter. “And you only have one stab at the correct answer. We have our fighter standing by to make another attack on you. We both know that you have no defense against it and the pilot is one hell of a shot, wouldn’t you say? We also have another missile aimed right at you. And guess what it’s made of? That’s right. Cadmium-x. It will pass right through your shield, and spread your miserable hide for miles across the desert. So, the question is. Do you, Kivar, rebellious traitor to all Antar, enemy of Epsilia, and one complete and total jackass, surrender to his royal majesty, King Zan of Antar, protector of Earth and all around good guy, totally and unconditionally? Your choices are ‘yes’ and ‘oblivion.’”
“Must you be so hostile, Vilondra? We were so close, once.”
“Aeaeaea. Wrong answer. Prepare to die.”
“Wait, wait, wait.”
“Was that, ‘yes’, you surrender?”
“I…”
“Tick, tick, tick,” Isabel rocked her head from side to side, emphasizing each tick. She was enjoying this. So too, were Max, Liz, Michael and the Antarians, who could hear the silent conversation.
“I…”
“Times a’wasting.”
“I surrender,” Kivar’s voice was small.
“That’s not enough, Kivar. What’s the rest of it?”
“Totally and without condition.”
* * *
“Griffin?” Max grinned as he spoke into the handset. “This is Max. Are you receiving? Over.”
“Loud and clear, your majesty. Are you about to give me the all clear to destroy this thing?”
“Not today,” Max shook his head. “And it’s Max, ‘kay? Why don’t you come on down, now. I think there are some people who might want to shake your hand.”
“Spoilsport,” Griffin laughed. “I’ve never shot anything down this big before.”
“Well, as the current occupant has just surrendered, it’s under new management. It technically belongs to me, so let’s leave it in one piece for now, okay?”
“Roger that, Max. This is Griffin, coming in for a landing. Over and out.”
Everyone watched the strange craft glide in and slow to a hover just above the desert floor. With a puff of dust, the craft landed. It had not made a sound. The strange ship sat motionless until a square panel popped open on its side. A figure appeared in the doorway, a white circular head with a dark oval in place of a face. The figure lifted his hand to his head and pulled it off. Ted Griffin grinned out at the world.
“Daddy!” Connie rushed to his side.
Griffin dropped his helmet to the ground and while it bounced and rolled in a slow, lazy circle, he grabbed his daughter in a tight hug and spun her around.
“Thanks for looking after muh little gal,” Griffin winked as he extended his hand to Max.
“It’s been… interesting,” Max grinned back. “Uh… thanks. You know, for saving the day.”
“Wasn’t anything, really. Hell, for the chance to fly one of those babies, I’d have willingly faced whatever fighters he might have brought with him.”
“It’s so cool, Dad. I flew one out in space.”
“Really?” Griffin looked surprised. “One of these?”
“Well, no. It was more like a shuttle, but I flew it around Pluto.”
“My baby girl,” he laughed. “An astronaut.”
“Astro nut,” Michael smirked as he joined them. “Hey, Griffin. So what happened to the job in the Far East?”
“Strangest thing,” Griffin put Connie back down, but he kept his arm around her. “I waited at the airport I was supposed to meet my contact at, when this big hot shot director turns up and says he has a better job offer. He did a line from the Godfather, you know? When I told him I wasn’t interested, he told me it would help you guys out. So of course, I was interested. Turned out it was him who contacted me with the Far East job in the first place. Anyway, he flew me out to Puerto Rico. He hired a boat and we went out to sea in it. By now, I’m kinda worrying, you know? But guess what we find under the waves?”
“This ship,” Max placed his hand on the coarse fuselage.
“How did you know? I mean, who puts a space ship under the sea?”
“It crashed,” Max grinned. “Liz and I found it there last year. That was when you and Connie were meeting Kyle.”
“Anyway, we bring it up to the surface. Luckily, it wasn’t damaged too much, nothing that Langley couldn’t fix. So he teaches me how to fly it. That’s what I’ve been doing all this time. Learning to fly this thing. She handles like a dream. Then, last week, he turns up with these guns, and presto. A quick briefing on the vulnerable points to aim for and…”
“This was Kivar’s prototype,” Max turned to Michael. “Remember how we learned that the Antarian fighters can’t maneuver in our atmosphere? So he built one that could. Except it crashed on its first outing.”
“To be recovered by us and used against him,” Michael grinned.
“Define irony,” Kyle shook his head.
* * *
“So,” Max looked up at Major Armstead. He had already sat himself down, with Liz at his side, waiting to hear the latest casualty figures.
“We lost another eleven men, with a further thirty six wounded. Among the civilians in town, sixty five were killed, and two hundred and twenty nine wounded. The casualties were almost all tourists from the shanty town.”
“Almost?”
“The Roswell Theatre was one of the buildings hit,” Armstead had a look of sorrow on his face. “They had a big screen up, people were watching on it. It’s completely destroyed, Max. Everyone died, including the employees.”
“Any one we know?” Max’s voice was quiet.
“No,” Armstead shook his head. “At least, no one close. Oh, and there’s, uh one more. But to be honest, we don’t know who he is.”
“What do you mean?”
“We found… remains. In the desert. It’s not one of ours; everyone is accounted for. It’s human DNA, so not one of Kivar’s men. We also found the remains of a high powered sniper’s rifle. Standard FBI issue. I never posted any snipers, Max.”
“Where was he?”
“The location of Kivar’s first blast. Yesterday.”
“Maybe he was just a civilian, wanting in on the action.”
“Or worse,” Armstead frowned. “Someone who wanted to take you down.”
“Someone from Forest?”
“Possibly. Who knows? Better keep your guard up, Max.”
* * *
“I know that you hate the idea, Max, but we have to do it this way,” Roberts emphasized his point by pounding his fist on the table. “Kivar is ‘your’ enemy. ‘You’ defeated Kivar. Whether you did it with help from your human allies or not is not the point here. Kivar has to surrender to you. Not only that, Kivar has to be ‘seen’ surrendering to you. No matter what kind of ass Forest is, he is still the President of the United States of America. If he sees any opportunity to wheedle some publicity out of this and alienate… pardon the phrase, you, he will seize it. Kivar has to surrender to you, and not to me. Let the world see you for the leader, no, the statesman you are, Max. The war is over. You won. But it’s the hard part, now. Now you have to win the peace.”
“I agree with the wise Colonel, Max,” Serena nodded. Beside her, Mantik nodded too. “Unless those members of the House of Krescasent still loyal to Kivar witness his surrender, to you, then they will deny it ever happened. In the same way that your family has denied these past fifty years that you are dead.”
“Let’s end the war, Maxwell,” Michael shrugged. “It’s not like you’re not in the spotlight in any case.”
“It makes sense, Max,” Liz squeezed his hand.
“Okay,” he nodded. “But I want equal representation on the podium. I will accept the surrender, but I insist that you are with me, Roberts. And I want equal numbers of ceremonial guard there with me. Six from Antar, six from Earth. I’ll leave it to Michael and Armstead to choose. And you both have to be there too. Maria, Kyle, Connie and Jesse, I want you with us. You’re part of us whether you’re human or not. We started this together; we’ll finish it in the same way.”
“Now that’s sorted, what about the details?” Jesse asked.
“Okay, Jesse,” Max nodded. “You make the arrangements for the spectators. Invite the important ones, and maybe use some kind of lottery for everyone else. Oh, make sure our families get…”
“V.I.P. treatment, Max? Would I do it any other way?”
“See if Glenn can make it. Oh, and try to contact Sarah. And the Andersons.”
“Don’t forget Granny,” Liz reminded him.
“Heck, everyone who helped us,” Max shrugged. “But I want two special seats reserved. Up close.”
“Who for?”
“One’s for Brody,” Max grinned. “And the other is for Milton. He’s going to love this.”
* * *
The shuttle from the Nyelda left Kivar’s… Max’s great ship and started its descent to the planet Earth’s surface. It was doubted that there was a person on the entire planet that was not watching this momentous ceremony on television. The shuttle fired its retro engines and glided to a halt one hundred meters from the main podium, upon which Max sat on a throne created from crystallized granite. Beside him, on a throne of her own, Liz sat and watched. Both were dressed in very royal looking Antarian robes. Max drew the line at wearing anything that resembled a crown. He had even thrown the tacky crown he had been presented with at their homecoming at Kyle when he brought it to him. On either side of the podium, twelve of the ceremonial guard stood to attention, each of them ready to defend Max and Liz to the death. The rest of the soldiers stood forming a corridor from the podium to the landed shuttle, separating the path from the assembled crowds. Behind Max and Liz were their friends.
“I can’t believe it’s all over,” Maria shook her head in wonderment. “I mean, what do we do now?”
“Like the man said,” Michael never once took his eyes of the ship. “We win the peace.”
“I can’t wait to see Max and Liz take on the world stage.”
“The world won’t know what hit them,” Kyle smirked. “How can they get all pompous and try to bully Max into submission when he won’t take them seriously, and could in any case, blast their entire armed might to smithereens?”
“They might just as well sign blank sheets of paper and let Max write the treaties,” Jesse chuckled.
“Liz once told me that the world would be a better place if everyone got to know Max,” Maria smiled. “I bet she’s right.”
“You gotta feel for him, though,” Connie shook her head. “Liz too. How can they live their own lives if the world wants a piece of them all the time? Talk about goldfish bowl. I mean, there won’t be a camera in the world not trying to take that special candid photo of them.”
Everyone exchanged glances.
“If you were a photographer, Connie,” Michael smirked. “And you knew what Max could do to you if you got caught trying to take a picture of Liz’s tits, would you?”
“What? No way.”
“I have a feeling that Max will be making extensive use of that shield that keeps out Earth metals from now on. I mean, what better way to protect your privacy?
The door to the shuttle opened, a hiss from the equalizing pressure was the only sound it made. From the dark interior, two guards dressed in the black and gold uniform of the house of Kreskasent stepped out first, and stood a few paces apart. They stood to attention. Moments later, a tall man with jet-black hair stepped out of the ship and into the bright, desert sun. He stopped, drew himself up and looked around at the crowd with piercing gray eyes. There were many gasps from the women. Kivar could only be described as incredibly handsome. It was hard to imagine this imposing man surrendering to a mere teenager like Max. He looked up at the podium and wore a sneer as he sauntered toward the youngsters. For his part, Max never once looked at Kivar, as though the newcomer was something less than significant. He was talking with Liz, making every conscious effort not to scream at Kivar to hurry him up.
“Your Majesty,” Kivar only gave a half bow. He made a point out of ignoring Liz. “Vilondra,” he nodded to her. “Rath,” his voice took on the tone of scratched ice.
Isabel chose to ignore him.
“Kivar,” Michael nodded, doing little to hide the contempt in his voice.
“Oh, have you arrived at last, Kivar? What kept you?” Max yawned. “You didn’t get lost on the way down did you?”
“Hardly,” he shrugged. His eyes scanned the podium. “Where is my daughter, Ava?”
“Ava’s dead, Kivar,” Max informed him in a gentle voice. In spite of his hatred for the man, Max could not be that heartless. “You should never have let her return.”
“You killed her?” It was an accusation.
“No,” Max shook his head. “She took her own life. She died to try to divert the attention of the authorities away from hunting us. She died to save my life.”
“You lie!”
“Believe what you want, Kivar,” Max shrugged. “We’re not here to talk about Ava. We’ve made our peace with her. You’re here to surrender to me. So let’s get on with it, okay? Let’s end this war that you started.”
“I would not have started it had you not sought to humiliate me.”
“Kivar, you are surrounded by people who just want to kill you and your men. Wipe your sorry hide from existence. I’m probably the only person on this planet who doesn’t want to kill you. Try not to change my mind, okay?”
“Just say the word, Max,” Michael snarled. “We’ll light up the sky like a friggin’ Christmas tree.”
“See?” Max raised his hands, palms upwards. “What can I do?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Sign this, for a start,” Max handed a small scroll to Kivar.
It was silver in color. It was clear to the spectators that this was something alien. Kivar unrolled the document and quickly read it.
“It states that you accept full responsibility for the war and destruction you brought down upon our planet and this one. It states that you henceforth recognize that I am the true King of Antar and with my bride, Elizabeth Evans, Queen of Antar, rule wholly and without dispute, by the grace of the Granolith.”
“What’s to become of me? My men?” he asked.
“You will all be taken back to Antar to stand trial,” Max shrugged. “I’m not a murderer, Kivar. But if the people of Antar sentence you to death, then I can’t and I won’t stop it.”
“You are the king,” Kivar stated. “You can order them to spare me.”
“You brought this upon yourself, Kivar. Save your speeches for them. I want nothing more to do with you.” Max paused, his eyes going distant. “You know what the really ironic thing is? If you had just left us alone, if you had kept Nikolas away, if you had told Tess… Ava to just back away and leave us to our ignorance, then you could quite possibly have been in charge of Antar by now. You could have retrieved Ava at any time, and had her tell some sob story about how we all perished down here. Antar would have accepted her, and you could have ruled through her. I would just be some human alien hybrid who had never heard of Antar, struggling through college with my girlfriend. I would never have even heard of you, or Antar, and I would never have become your enemy, the King, leading the combined forces of two planets against you.” Max paused. He started to chuckle. “You just had to involve me, didn’t you? Bad move, Kivar. Bad move.”
* * *
“Poor old Milton,” Liz chuckled as she lay beside Max in their large comfortable bed. The reception after the surrender had seemed to drag on forever when all Liz had wanted to do was to take Max somewhere quiet and hold a little celebrations of their own. “All those aliens and he gets struck down with stage fright. I don’t think he spoke to a single one.”
“Yeah,” Max chuckled. “I hope he gains his voice again soon. Apparently, he’s been invited onto dozens of talk shows.”
“So what’s going to happen now, Max?”
“Now, I get to see about that gratification of yours.”
“No, silly,” Liz’s eyes twinkled. “I mean, now that it’s all over. Kivar has been beaten and there’s no longer any threat from the authorities, unless Forest is stupid enough to declare war on Antar. We have our whole life in front of us, Max. And for the first time, there’s no end in sight.”
“We have a blank page, Liz. But I’ll tell you one thing. I intend to keep those promises. So we need to start laying down some plans.”
“What plans?”
“College for one thing.”
“Do you think we would be allowed?”
“Who’s going to stop me? Liz, you realize that all we have to do is say, who wants us? The colleges will fall over themselves offering us a spot. Harvard, Yale… You name it, we can go there.”
“But a big wedding, Max. I mean…”
“Not only will I not let you escape from that particular promise, Mrs. Evans, your parents won’t either. Neither will my parents.”
“Max!” Serena’s muffled voice called from outside the tent.
The two young lovers frowned, and pulled on their dressing gowns, stepping out into the main part of the tent.
“Come in, Serena,” Max called.
Serena entered the tent looking a little flustered.
“Is Kivar and the others safely locked up?”
“Yes, sire,” she nodded. “We are in full control of the ship. We have also placed canons on the Nyelda and it sits watching them. There is nothing Kivar can do.”
She looked at Max and Liz.
“Max,” she bowed. “Liz. I’ve heard that you will be making plans for a more formal royal wedding.”
“That’s right,” Max frowned. “What about it?”
“Max,” her face fell. “There’s something you should know. An ancient Law that affects the marriage of a king.”
Liz and Max exchanged worried looks. This could not be good.
* * *
“What’s our status?” Kivar demanded, picking himself up from the floor.
His eyes were wild as he looked around the control room. The explosions that ripped through the ship’s interiors had knocked anyone not seated to their feet.
“Sir!” the adjutant called as he scrambled across the bridge. There was an element of panic in his voice. “All our engines are down. The enemy fighter has knocked them out completely. Whoever the pilot was, he knew precisely where to hit us.”
Apart from the calls as technicians screamed out orders and counter orders in an attempt to get the systems working again, the interior of the ship was strangely silent as everything that was powered by the ship’s engines had stilled. With no air conditioning plants working to clean the air, it was growing hot, and close. Wafts of blue smoke drifted in the still air, lit only by the red emergency lighting. Those crew members not active in well drilled routines looked to Kivar to guide them out of this mess.
“Fix them!” Kivar ordered. “If Zan has any more of those damned missiles, they’ll be scraping us from that planet’s surface for decades. We are completely at his mercy, here. And you all know what that means, right?”
“We’re trying Kivar,” he shook his head. “But the damage…” He waved his arms. “It’s too much. We can’t…”
“Is the shield still up?”
“Yes,” the adjutant nodded. “Its power source is internal.”
“The shield is pretty much useless to us now. See if you can reroute that power to the engines. Meanwhile, try and target the source of that earlier missile launch,” he snapped. “Knock out their missile launcher. Then see if we can’t organize some defense against that ship.”
“But we can’t,” the adjutant backed away from Kivar’s rising fury. “We lost power for the laser canon when the engines went. That ship…”
“Where did it come from, anyway?” Kivar almost screeched. “Who was tracking the Nyelda?”
“It didn’t come from the Nyelda,” someone responded.
“Then where the hell did it come from?”
“I thought it was another one of the Earthling fighters,” the scanning sensor operator shook his head in wide eyed terror. “I never dreamed it would pass the shield.”
“I think I recognized it, sir,” a technician approached him. “I remember it from an earlier mission.”
“Well?”
“It was our test ship, sir. The prototype. The one we sent here for trials to see how it maneuvered in their atmosphere.”
“Well how in hell’s name did Zan get a hold of it? I was told it crashed.”
“It did, sir,” the technician nodded. “Into the sea far to the east from here. The pilot dropped off some more bodies to Nikolas for storage, and while making its return, it crashed into a human aircraft above an island and fell to the sea. We lost all trace of it after that.”
“Yet here it is, and holding us at its mercy,” Kivar groaned. “Why must I work with incompetents? Wait a minute. It was never armed.”
“Zan must have fixed a canon to it. It’s not a difficult task.”
“Kivar!” A female’s thoughts boomed in their heads. Her command was regal, full of authority. It was a tone that demanded attention. “You know who this is.”
* * *
“Welcome home, Griffin,” Max finally greeted their savior as soon as he could free the transmitter from a speechless Connie, who was gripping the small instrument as though her life depended on it. “That was quite some entrance.”
“What can I say?” Griffin replied. “I’m playing with the big boys now. Can’t let the side down, now, can I? Want I should finish them off for you, Max?”
“Not yet,” he grinned. “Stand by for further instruction. Max, out.”
“Yes, sir. Griffin, out.”
Max could almost imagine Theodore Griffin saluting him in the cockpit of the strange, alien ship. Shaking his head with a wry smile, he turned to look at his friends. They looked back at him, disbelief on their faces. Was it really over? Silence had descended upon the battlefield. Soldiers stood and watched the giant ship, unsure if the cessation of its bombardment was good or not. They looked from the huge vessel to the small spec that had appeared from nowhere to cripple it. A true David and Goliath. Liz joined her husband, her eyes begging him to finish this off once and for all. He nodded to her, rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand and smiled. No longer would they cower beneath the threat of the end of the world.
“Do you want to do the honors, Michael?”
“If you don’t want to, then, yeah,” Michael broke into a huge grin. “I want that so much, I can taste it. But I think there’s someone else who should do this. Someone who owes him more than we do.”
“I agree,” Max nodded.
They both turned to her.
“Isabel?”
“Can I?” Isabel broke into a huge smile. “Really? Oh, yes please.”
Max nodded to her as the friends congregated into a circle. She stepped forward into their center, even though she knew there was no practical need. It was a symbolic gesture of their togetherness. She stared up at the motionless ship.
“I am so going to love this.”
She took a deep breath and stood upright, her bearing proud, and victorious.
“Kivar!” Isabel threw her thoughts out. Her command was regal, full of authority. “You know who this is.”
“Vilondra?” Kivar’s voice sounded startled. “Is that you, my beloved?”
“I’m not your beloved, Kivar,” Isabel sneered. “Not then, not now, not ever.”
“You tell him, Iz,” Liz murmured out loud.
“So how may I help you, your highness?” There was an element of mocking in his tone that seemed a little misplaced.
“It’s time to discuss your surrender.”
“Ah. I see. And where is Zan, pray tell? I couldn’t imagine the young whelp passing up on this opportunity to gloat. Why isn’t he available to demand this himself? Perhaps he and Ava are off rutting again?”
Max squeezed Liz’s hand in response to her sudden tensioning.
“You know what, Kivar?” Isabel smirked. “Zan didn’t think you were that much of a threat. He’s really busy right now. He says he has these issues to deal with that are far more important than talking to a pathetic little worm like you. Something about making sure that tonight’s victory banquet had the special soup he liked on the menu. So he asked Rath to deal with you. Except, guess what? Yup. Rath’s kinda busy too. He needs to make sure that his medals are all gleaming for the victory parade we had planned for tonight. So he asked me. And you know what, Kivar? I could have spent the time organizing my wardrobe. I have better things to do than standing here yapping with a washed up has been, but as there was no one else to deal with you, the buck stopped with me.”
“Buck? What are you talking about, Vilondra? What is a buck?”
“Okay, here’s the deal,” Isabel was grinning at her friends. She wished that Jesse, Kyle, Maria and Connie could hear her too. She was loving every minute of this encounter. “And you only have one stab at the correct answer. We have our fighter standing by to make another attack on you. We both know that you have no defense against it and the pilot is one hell of a shot, wouldn’t you say? We also have another missile aimed right at you. And guess what it’s made of? That’s right. Cadmium-x. It will pass right through your shield, and spread your miserable hide for miles across the desert. So, the question is. Do you, Kivar, rebellious traitor to all Antar, enemy of Epsilia, and one complete and total jackass, surrender to his royal majesty, King Zan of Antar, protector of Earth and all around good guy, totally and unconditionally? Your choices are ‘yes’ and ‘oblivion.’”
“Must you be so hostile, Vilondra? We were so close, once.”
“Aeaeaea. Wrong answer. Prepare to die.”
“Wait, wait, wait.”
“Was that, ‘yes’, you surrender?”
“I…”
“Tick, tick, tick,” Isabel rocked her head from side to side, emphasizing each tick. She was enjoying this. So too, were Max, Liz, Michael and the Antarians, who could hear the silent conversation.
“I…”
“Times a’wasting.”
“I surrender,” Kivar’s voice was small.
“That’s not enough, Kivar. What’s the rest of it?”
“Totally and without condition.”
* * *
“Griffin?” Max grinned as he spoke into the handset. “This is Max. Are you receiving? Over.”
“Loud and clear, your majesty. Are you about to give me the all clear to destroy this thing?”
“Not today,” Max shook his head. “And it’s Max, ‘kay? Why don’t you come on down, now. I think there are some people who might want to shake your hand.”
“Spoilsport,” Griffin laughed. “I’ve never shot anything down this big before.”
“Well, as the current occupant has just surrendered, it’s under new management. It technically belongs to me, so let’s leave it in one piece for now, okay?”
“Roger that, Max. This is Griffin, coming in for a landing. Over and out.”
Everyone watched the strange craft glide in and slow to a hover just above the desert floor. With a puff of dust, the craft landed. It had not made a sound. The strange ship sat motionless until a square panel popped open on its side. A figure appeared in the doorway, a white circular head with a dark oval in place of a face. The figure lifted his hand to his head and pulled it off. Ted Griffin grinned out at the world.
“Daddy!” Connie rushed to his side.
Griffin dropped his helmet to the ground and while it bounced and rolled in a slow, lazy circle, he grabbed his daughter in a tight hug and spun her around.
“Thanks for looking after muh little gal,” Griffin winked as he extended his hand to Max.
“It’s been… interesting,” Max grinned back. “Uh… thanks. You know, for saving the day.”
“Wasn’t anything, really. Hell, for the chance to fly one of those babies, I’d have willingly faced whatever fighters he might have brought with him.”
“It’s so cool, Dad. I flew one out in space.”
“Really?” Griffin looked surprised. “One of these?”
“Well, no. It was more like a shuttle, but I flew it around Pluto.”
“My baby girl,” he laughed. “An astronaut.”
“Astro nut,” Michael smirked as he joined them. “Hey, Griffin. So what happened to the job in the Far East?”
“Strangest thing,” Griffin put Connie back down, but he kept his arm around her. “I waited at the airport I was supposed to meet my contact at, when this big hot shot director turns up and says he has a better job offer. He did a line from the Godfather, you know? When I told him I wasn’t interested, he told me it would help you guys out. So of course, I was interested. Turned out it was him who contacted me with the Far East job in the first place. Anyway, he flew me out to Puerto Rico. He hired a boat and we went out to sea in it. By now, I’m kinda worrying, you know? But guess what we find under the waves?”
“This ship,” Max placed his hand on the coarse fuselage.
“How did you know? I mean, who puts a space ship under the sea?”
“It crashed,” Max grinned. “Liz and I found it there last year. That was when you and Connie were meeting Kyle.”
“Anyway, we bring it up to the surface. Luckily, it wasn’t damaged too much, nothing that Langley couldn’t fix. So he teaches me how to fly it. That’s what I’ve been doing all this time. Learning to fly this thing. She handles like a dream. Then, last week, he turns up with these guns, and presto. A quick briefing on the vulnerable points to aim for and…”
“This was Kivar’s prototype,” Max turned to Michael. “Remember how we learned that the Antarian fighters can’t maneuver in our atmosphere? So he built one that could. Except it crashed on its first outing.”
“To be recovered by us and used against him,” Michael grinned.
“Define irony,” Kyle shook his head.
* * *
“So,” Max looked up at Major Armstead. He had already sat himself down, with Liz at his side, waiting to hear the latest casualty figures.
“We lost another eleven men, with a further thirty six wounded. Among the civilians in town, sixty five were killed, and two hundred and twenty nine wounded. The casualties were almost all tourists from the shanty town.”
“Almost?”
“The Roswell Theatre was one of the buildings hit,” Armstead had a look of sorrow on his face. “They had a big screen up, people were watching on it. It’s completely destroyed, Max. Everyone died, including the employees.”
“Any one we know?” Max’s voice was quiet.
“No,” Armstead shook his head. “At least, no one close. Oh, and there’s, uh one more. But to be honest, we don’t know who he is.”
“What do you mean?”
“We found… remains. In the desert. It’s not one of ours; everyone is accounted for. It’s human DNA, so not one of Kivar’s men. We also found the remains of a high powered sniper’s rifle. Standard FBI issue. I never posted any snipers, Max.”
“Where was he?”
“The location of Kivar’s first blast. Yesterday.”
“Maybe he was just a civilian, wanting in on the action.”
“Or worse,” Armstead frowned. “Someone who wanted to take you down.”
“Someone from Forest?”
“Possibly. Who knows? Better keep your guard up, Max.”
* * *
“I know that you hate the idea, Max, but we have to do it this way,” Roberts emphasized his point by pounding his fist on the table. “Kivar is ‘your’ enemy. ‘You’ defeated Kivar. Whether you did it with help from your human allies or not is not the point here. Kivar has to surrender to you. Not only that, Kivar has to be ‘seen’ surrendering to you. No matter what kind of ass Forest is, he is still the President of the United States of America. If he sees any opportunity to wheedle some publicity out of this and alienate… pardon the phrase, you, he will seize it. Kivar has to surrender to you, and not to me. Let the world see you for the leader, no, the statesman you are, Max. The war is over. You won. But it’s the hard part, now. Now you have to win the peace.”
“I agree with the wise Colonel, Max,” Serena nodded. Beside her, Mantik nodded too. “Unless those members of the House of Krescasent still loyal to Kivar witness his surrender, to you, then they will deny it ever happened. In the same way that your family has denied these past fifty years that you are dead.”
“Let’s end the war, Maxwell,” Michael shrugged. “It’s not like you’re not in the spotlight in any case.”
“It makes sense, Max,” Liz squeezed his hand.
“Okay,” he nodded. “But I want equal representation on the podium. I will accept the surrender, but I insist that you are with me, Roberts. And I want equal numbers of ceremonial guard there with me. Six from Antar, six from Earth. I’ll leave it to Michael and Armstead to choose. And you both have to be there too. Maria, Kyle, Connie and Jesse, I want you with us. You’re part of us whether you’re human or not. We started this together; we’ll finish it in the same way.”
“Now that’s sorted, what about the details?” Jesse asked.
“Okay, Jesse,” Max nodded. “You make the arrangements for the spectators. Invite the important ones, and maybe use some kind of lottery for everyone else. Oh, make sure our families get…”
“V.I.P. treatment, Max? Would I do it any other way?”
“See if Glenn can make it. Oh, and try to contact Sarah. And the Andersons.”
“Don’t forget Granny,” Liz reminded him.
“Heck, everyone who helped us,” Max shrugged. “But I want two special seats reserved. Up close.”
“Who for?”
“One’s for Brody,” Max grinned. “And the other is for Milton. He’s going to love this.”
* * *
The shuttle from the Nyelda left Kivar’s… Max’s great ship and started its descent to the planet Earth’s surface. It was doubted that there was a person on the entire planet that was not watching this momentous ceremony on television. The shuttle fired its retro engines and glided to a halt one hundred meters from the main podium, upon which Max sat on a throne created from crystallized granite. Beside him, on a throne of her own, Liz sat and watched. Both were dressed in very royal looking Antarian robes. Max drew the line at wearing anything that resembled a crown. He had even thrown the tacky crown he had been presented with at their homecoming at Kyle when he brought it to him. On either side of the podium, twelve of the ceremonial guard stood to attention, each of them ready to defend Max and Liz to the death. The rest of the soldiers stood forming a corridor from the podium to the landed shuttle, separating the path from the assembled crowds. Behind Max and Liz were their friends.
“I can’t believe it’s all over,” Maria shook her head in wonderment. “I mean, what do we do now?”
“Like the man said,” Michael never once took his eyes of the ship. “We win the peace.”
“I can’t wait to see Max and Liz take on the world stage.”
“The world won’t know what hit them,” Kyle smirked. “How can they get all pompous and try to bully Max into submission when he won’t take them seriously, and could in any case, blast their entire armed might to smithereens?”
“They might just as well sign blank sheets of paper and let Max write the treaties,” Jesse chuckled.
“Liz once told me that the world would be a better place if everyone got to know Max,” Maria smiled. “I bet she’s right.”
“You gotta feel for him, though,” Connie shook her head. “Liz too. How can they live their own lives if the world wants a piece of them all the time? Talk about goldfish bowl. I mean, there won’t be a camera in the world not trying to take that special candid photo of them.”
Everyone exchanged glances.
“If you were a photographer, Connie,” Michael smirked. “And you knew what Max could do to you if you got caught trying to take a picture of Liz’s tits, would you?”
“What? No way.”
“I have a feeling that Max will be making extensive use of that shield that keeps out Earth metals from now on. I mean, what better way to protect your privacy?
The door to the shuttle opened, a hiss from the equalizing pressure was the only sound it made. From the dark interior, two guards dressed in the black and gold uniform of the house of Kreskasent stepped out first, and stood a few paces apart. They stood to attention. Moments later, a tall man with jet-black hair stepped out of the ship and into the bright, desert sun. He stopped, drew himself up and looked around at the crowd with piercing gray eyes. There were many gasps from the women. Kivar could only be described as incredibly handsome. It was hard to imagine this imposing man surrendering to a mere teenager like Max. He looked up at the podium and wore a sneer as he sauntered toward the youngsters. For his part, Max never once looked at Kivar, as though the newcomer was something less than significant. He was talking with Liz, making every conscious effort not to scream at Kivar to hurry him up.
“Your Majesty,” Kivar only gave a half bow. He made a point out of ignoring Liz. “Vilondra,” he nodded to her. “Rath,” his voice took on the tone of scratched ice.
Isabel chose to ignore him.
“Kivar,” Michael nodded, doing little to hide the contempt in his voice.
“Oh, have you arrived at last, Kivar? What kept you?” Max yawned. “You didn’t get lost on the way down did you?”
“Hardly,” he shrugged. His eyes scanned the podium. “Where is my daughter, Ava?”
“Ava’s dead, Kivar,” Max informed him in a gentle voice. In spite of his hatred for the man, Max could not be that heartless. “You should never have let her return.”
“You killed her?” It was an accusation.
“No,” Max shook his head. “She took her own life. She died to try to divert the attention of the authorities away from hunting us. She died to save my life.”
“You lie!”
“Believe what you want, Kivar,” Max shrugged. “We’re not here to talk about Ava. We’ve made our peace with her. You’re here to surrender to me. So let’s get on with it, okay? Let’s end this war that you started.”
“I would not have started it had you not sought to humiliate me.”
“Kivar, you are surrounded by people who just want to kill you and your men. Wipe your sorry hide from existence. I’m probably the only person on this planet who doesn’t want to kill you. Try not to change my mind, okay?”
“Just say the word, Max,” Michael snarled. “We’ll light up the sky like a friggin’ Christmas tree.”
“See?” Max raised his hands, palms upwards. “What can I do?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Sign this, for a start,” Max handed a small scroll to Kivar.
It was silver in color. It was clear to the spectators that this was something alien. Kivar unrolled the document and quickly read it.
“It states that you accept full responsibility for the war and destruction you brought down upon our planet and this one. It states that you henceforth recognize that I am the true King of Antar and with my bride, Elizabeth Evans, Queen of Antar, rule wholly and without dispute, by the grace of the Granolith.”
“What’s to become of me? My men?” he asked.
“You will all be taken back to Antar to stand trial,” Max shrugged. “I’m not a murderer, Kivar. But if the people of Antar sentence you to death, then I can’t and I won’t stop it.”
“You are the king,” Kivar stated. “You can order them to spare me.”
“You brought this upon yourself, Kivar. Save your speeches for them. I want nothing more to do with you.” Max paused, his eyes going distant. “You know what the really ironic thing is? If you had just left us alone, if you had kept Nikolas away, if you had told Tess… Ava to just back away and leave us to our ignorance, then you could quite possibly have been in charge of Antar by now. You could have retrieved Ava at any time, and had her tell some sob story about how we all perished down here. Antar would have accepted her, and you could have ruled through her. I would just be some human alien hybrid who had never heard of Antar, struggling through college with my girlfriend. I would never have even heard of you, or Antar, and I would never have become your enemy, the King, leading the combined forces of two planets against you.” Max paused. He started to chuckle. “You just had to involve me, didn’t you? Bad move, Kivar. Bad move.”
* * *
“Poor old Milton,” Liz chuckled as she lay beside Max in their large comfortable bed. The reception after the surrender had seemed to drag on forever when all Liz had wanted to do was to take Max somewhere quiet and hold a little celebrations of their own. “All those aliens and he gets struck down with stage fright. I don’t think he spoke to a single one.”
“Yeah,” Max chuckled. “I hope he gains his voice again soon. Apparently, he’s been invited onto dozens of talk shows.”
“So what’s going to happen now, Max?”
“Now, I get to see about that gratification of yours.”
“No, silly,” Liz’s eyes twinkled. “I mean, now that it’s all over. Kivar has been beaten and there’s no longer any threat from the authorities, unless Forest is stupid enough to declare war on Antar. We have our whole life in front of us, Max. And for the first time, there’s no end in sight.”
“We have a blank page, Liz. But I’ll tell you one thing. I intend to keep those promises. So we need to start laying down some plans.”
“What plans?”
“College for one thing.”
“Do you think we would be allowed?”
“Who’s going to stop me? Liz, you realize that all we have to do is say, who wants us? The colleges will fall over themselves offering us a spot. Harvard, Yale… You name it, we can go there.”
“But a big wedding, Max. I mean…”
“Not only will I not let you escape from that particular promise, Mrs. Evans, your parents won’t either. Neither will my parents.”
“Max!” Serena’s muffled voice called from outside the tent.
The two young lovers frowned, and pulled on their dressing gowns, stepping out into the main part of the tent.
“Come in, Serena,” Max called.
Serena entered the tent looking a little flustered.
“Is Kivar and the others safely locked up?”
“Yes, sire,” she nodded. “We are in full control of the ship. We have also placed canons on the Nyelda and it sits watching them. There is nothing Kivar can do.”
She looked at Max and Liz.
“Max,” she bowed. “Liz. I’ve heard that you will be making plans for a more formal royal wedding.”
“That’s right,” Max frowned. “What about it?”
“Max,” her face fell. “There’s something you should know. An ancient Law that affects the marriage of a king.”
Liz and Max exchanged worried looks. This could not be good.
* * *
Last edited by WR on Fri Feb 27, 2004 4:07 pm, edited 1 time in total.