B. E. V. (15 page)

"Yeah?" We learned all this in history class. I didn't see the point.

"Well, somebody –"

"Those greedy pigs in the Federation did it, I bet," snapped Roy. He bent close to the fire, rubbed his hands together, and glared at the other men searching for disagreement.

"Maybe," Pop agreed. "Anyway, someone started demanding the Greys pay a toll for using our space." He slapped his hands together. "They destroyed what's left of our civilization, and they do not need to pay the toll now."

Kat exclaimed, "But Mr. Greene, what makes you think Morgan has anything to do with this? He's human same as us."

"Think about it, Kat," he answered quietly, staring into Kat's eyes and then mine. "They annihilated our colonies on the Moon and Mars, took out the Stairway so the space stations are isolated. All the cities destroyed, and afterwards Morgan builds
his
cities, starts putting in roads. Why don't they blast him?"

"I don't know," she replied, puzzled, and considered what he'd said, "but won't Morgan demand they pay a toll, too? If what you say is true. I don't see why they didn't destroy us all – killing us would solve their whole problem," she finished with a frown.

Pop threw some more wood onto the fire and watched the sparks fly into the night sky. "Probably can't destroy the whole human race without destroying Earth in the process," he said, "and they need the Earth. Easiest thing to do from their point of view is to put someone in charge and keep him under their thumb. I think they're doing so now. For all we know there might be a dozen Morgans scattered across the globe, reconquering the planet, and molding it into the shape the Greys want."

Kat cringed closer and grimaced. My chest tightened. I felt her shaking beside me. The other men stared into the fire in silence.

"So Earth is gonna be a Grey colony with Morgan in charge – an acting over-seer?" Kat said at last.

"Closer to the Dark Ages in Europe, with small warlords each ruling their own little kingdoms and fighting each other," Pop breathed. "But again, this is what it appears to be."

The scared feeling I held inside me for so long swept over me again, this time multiplied a hundred fold by the real possibility of an alien invasion. My bum leg ached even though I knew it was dead.

"We won't let it happen," I said suddenly. All the hatred I felt for the aliens boiled up inside me, replacing the scared feeling. They killed my mom, and crippled me. Now they were gonna make me a slave too? Why wouldn't they leave us alone?

"I don't think we have much choice," Pop replied. "If possible we would, but there are too few of us, too scattered. Morgan has all the weapons, and an army, and the backing of the Greys. We are outnumbered, and out-gunned." He searched my face and said, "I am sorry, son. This the way it is."

I struggled to my feet. "Well I don't have to enjoy it!" I yelled and stomped into the dark.

"Hunter don't –" I heard Pop shout behind me.

It was too dark to see where I was walking, and my dumb leg kept catching on rocks and clumps of grass. I didn't care. If I was going to be a Grey slave, what did it matter if I broke my stupid neck? Soon I was out of breath and stopped. Behind me, I make out the campfire and the outline of Bev in the moonlight. I sucked air into my lungs and scanned the sky for the Greys' satellite.

"Hunter?" Kat's voice drifted out of the darkness. "Hunter, where are you?"

I almost didn't answer, and then I said, "Over here, Kat. What do you want?"

"I wanted to make sure you're okay, alright?" She appeared next to me and peered into my face. "Why don't you come back to the fire. It's dangerous out here."

"I will in a minute, I wanted to think."

"You know your dad is right, don't you?"

"Yeah," I sighed, "I suppose so. I wish I knew something to do, some way to fight back." I took her hand. "I'm ready now, let's go back to camp."

Instead of returning, Kat put her arms around me in a hug, laying her head against my chest. I held her close, and for some reason, we both started crying. I don't know why, but I tilted her head back and kissed the tears off her wet face.

She pushed me away with a beatific expression and took my hand again with a little tug. "Let's go, it's spooky out here."

As we walked to the camp, a low growl rang out behind me. "Did you hear what I heard?" Kat whispered.

"I think so." I glanced behind us. Silhouetted against the horizon in the moonlight the shape of cat rose from the grass – a big maned cat.

"Don't be scared," I said, "but – LET'S RUN!"

I moved as fast as I could, which wasn't fast. Kat tugged on my arm trying to drag me faster. To our rear, a roar and the crash of bush echoed in our ears as the cat charged after us.

"DUCK!"

Bright lights hit me in the eyes. I latched onto Kat and we tumbled to the ground with me on top of her as lasers flashed over our heads. Bev rumbled toward us, more beams hitting the earth, setting the grass on fire.

"Scat cat, you mangy feline. Get away from my friends!"
Bev halted next to us. "If you're gonna play with kitties, get a Siamese," she said. "The big ones cost too much to feed."

"Yeah, and we don't want to be the tasty treat," I replied struggling back to my feet. "Thanks."

"It's in my programing, bub. 'Protect Kat, protect Hunter'. I was going to replace it with 'Bevs and computers first', but somehow I forg –"

"Well, thank you anyway," I replied. I hauled Kat up. "You okay?"

Dirt and twigs covered her. Her head was a bird's nest. "Yeah." She brushed leaves off her shirt, and yanked a few sticks from her hair with disdain. "I thought we were goners there for a moment."

Pop and the other men puffed up out of breath. "What happened? Hunter, Kat, you two all right?"

"Yeah, Bev saved us." I said, "I shouldn't have run off. I was being stupid, I guess."

"Well, let's get back to the fire," Pop said. "Bev, thanks."

"My pleasure, Pop! You, I would save without being programmed."

As we walked back to our campfire, Kat whispered to me, "You still want to see a lion?"

"Just saw one," I said. "One is enough."

When we arrived at the fire, nobody spoke for a long time. I kept thinking about Morgan. In every book I'd ever read, the good guys win in the end. Napoleon was defeated at Waterloo, Attila the Hun choked on his own blood from a nosebleed. Morgan was the bad guy, for sure, and something awful would cause him to stop. The human race wouldn't become puppets for alien monsters, it was impossible.

The next morning when we woke up, Pop and the others were becoming acquainted with Bev. Kat was awake too, but she was sorta hanging back, watching and giggling. When she saw I was awake, she put her finger to her lips and waved me over.

"— so many people interested in little old me!" Bev exclaimed. "Why I declare! Makes a girl want to blush."

"Yes, I know, you are charming," Pop replied in exasperation, "but back to this magnetic gravity system of yours, you said you draw your power from the Earth? How? Can you explain it to me?"

"Why, honey, I thought I did," Bev said in surprise. "The magnetic energy is in the Earth, a world grid which wraps around the planet. I suck the power out and use what I need." She started singing –
"The prettiest girl, I ever saw, was sipping –"

"Enough," Pop exclaimed in disgust. He saw I was listening and said, "Hunter, do you know how to get a straight answer from this machine of yours? I give up." He sat on the grass with a grunt.

I spread my hands wide. "You can't pry anything out of her she doesn't want to tell. Best thing I can say is ask Doctor Krumboton when we get to the lab."

"Krumboton," Pop muttered, "I've heard of him before, but I cannot –" His eyes lit up. He asked the other men, "Wasn't there a German doctor named Krumboton kicked out for –"

"No, I think Krumboton was the Austrian engineer who was analyzing the Egyptian pyramids," Bill said. "Developed a crazy theory about something or another. He claimed the Egyptians discovered a worldwide net of power crystals they used to build their temples with, and he could prove it. I tried reading one of his papers – pure hogwash."

Roy shook his head. "I'm thinking of a different Krumboton – bio-chemist. Insisted he'd made paint-on portable brains, became the laughing stock of the scientific world with his rubbish, and no one has heard of him since. I read somewhere he killed himself."

"Hogwash or not," Pop replied, "He has stumbled onto something. I wish I knew what." He rubbed his chin and studied the others. "What are we going to do with you two? I don't even know where you're from."

Bill spoke up. "Nowhere now. If it's all the same to you, we'll go wherever you're going. When Morgan destroyed our town, our research facility went with it. We lost everything, no home now."

Pop slapped his knees and stood. "We're settled then. Off we go to Paradise Cove."

"Whoopee! Got myself a posse!" Bev exclaimed. "Which one of you is gonna fetch me a latte?"

 

 

We approached Paradise Cove with caution. We'd swung onto an old road running in from one of the farms, and passed a family we didn't know. The kids sat on horses with a woman leading them, while a man trudged behind with a heavy pack. They waved to us as we rolled by.

When Paradise Cove came into view, we halted. At first, I thought we'd somehow navigated to the wrong town; hundreds of tents nestled up against the outside wall. Men and women milled about and children ran everywhere playing in the dirt.

"What's going on here, Hunter?" Pop asked as we started up again, "who are all these people?"

"Gee, I don't know," I replied. I scanned the faces staring at me as we rolled past toward the main gate. I recognized no one. "Never saw them before. Kat, do you see anyone who seems familiar?"

"Nope, not a one," she scrutinized a bunch of kids about our own age who watched us drive by. "I don't think they're from Paradise Cove at all."

"They weren't here when we left," I said. "I don't know where they're from."

We followed a narrow path through the tents and parked outside the city walls. A bell started clanging. Men rushed out to cover us from the remains of the guard shack, and waited with pointed rifles until Pop and I emerged from the cargo bay and they recognized us. We left Bev outside, just because, and walked in with the rest of our group as the guards sounded the all clear.

The town hadn't improved its appearance since we'd left the first time. The fires were out, and the rubble, which choked the main street and crowded the sidewalks, lined the edges of the roads leaving a lane, but the real cleanup had not yet begun.

A party of weapon-totting townspeople ran up the street led by Mr. Brennan. When he saw Pop, Kat, and me, he broke into a cheer and first hugged Kat and then pounded Pop on the back.

"You son-of-a-gun!" he exclaimed, "I thought I'd never see you again." He said to Kat and me, "You two did it, huh? I do not know why I was so worried, I should have known." The rest of his party crowded around talking and asking questions.

"Surprised me too," Pop beamed. He was busy shaking hands with the other townspeople and trying to answer all their questions at once. "Knew we had some reason to keep these two around and not pinch their heads off when they were born."

"Pop, I think it's time to find another joke." Kat and I had heard the same gag since we were five and it was ancient even then.

Pop winced. "I will try to think of something more suitable in the future."

"Sure, Pop." I knew he wouldn't.

Pop introduced Roy and Bill to the rest of the men. "How are you doing here?" Pop asked Mr. Brennan after he finished. He gestured toward the city gate. "Who are all those people – ours? I don't see a single person I know."

Mr. Brennan released a huge sigh. "Refugees. Morgan flattened every city within a hundred mile radius. Word circulated Paradise Cove was still standing." He laughed. "I guess we are, in a way." He glanced up and down the road at all the devastation.

"Anyway, they've flooded in here in drips and drabs for the last couple of weeks searching for a new place to live." Mr. Brennan's lips bent down.

"What's the matter?" Pop asked. "I know the place is a wreck, but," he surveyed quickly the few remaining people walking the streets, "you have plenty of room."

"Well, at first we did let them in," admitted Mr. Brennen, "two doctors and a group of nurses. We put them to work and were grateful for their help. Afterwards," he continued with real sorrow in his voice, "well, you know, when Morgan invaded he stripped most of our food. We allowed a few more people to enter, and then we had to stop."

"You mean people are starving?" Kat gasped, horror- stricken.

When Mr. Brennan replied he said in a cautious tone, "What little we have we share, and no, no one has starved
yet
, but the council decided town folks first and only let in people we need. They were afraid of food riots."

Pop asked, worried, "If this is the only reason you haven't permitted those refugees to resettle," he pointed to the shattered buildings and garbage still filling the side streets, "we'll send out hunting parties, we've done it before. Hasn't been much of a cleanup, we need the help."

Mr. Brennan lowered his voice and ran his hand over his face. "Oh, no, we've been bringing in bush meat, and continue to do so," he assured Pop. "Hunters go out every day, but we have other problems too."

"More problems?" I asked. I didn't think things could become any worse.

This time Mr. Brennan let out a huge sigh. "I have the city water up and running. Sewage is a headache – sometimes it works, sometimes the darn thing clogs and backs up. I don't know what Morgan's people did, haven't found the time to climb down there and check, and anyone who knows what to inspect was taken in the raid – or dead." His voice faded into bleakness.

"As for the rest of this," he continued after a minute and waved his hand to the street, "Morgan's soldiers snatched anything which ran; ground cars, bulldozers, you name it, even the kids' bicycles. I managed to repair two old tractors from the farms. They're working, but I spend more time fixing those hulks than we do hauling masonry away. It's not people I need, it's electrical, steam, and machinery. Without power, there is no sense in letting people in. They sit outside the wall or inside."

"You haven't gotten the power grid up and running?" Pop asked.

Mr. Brennan shook his head. "Nope. This is another reason we're not letting people in. Morgan's men tried to remove the Lithium power pack from the city's generator and then stopped, broke a bunch of parts doing it. The plant went into shutdown. I have the steam back up, and plenty of pressure, but it still won't work – the turbine refuses to spin."

"Something broken?" Pop asked.

"Probably," admitted Mr. Brennan, "or something stuck down there. We have spare parts, but I don't know what is wrong." He chuckled. "We're a mess!" He picked up a rock and hurled it at a rat in disgust, which was rummaging through a pile of garbage.

"What happened to the power packs the town had in storage?" Pop asked. "We could hook them up to the main buildings and start lights at least."

"Morgan's men stole them," Mr. Brennan said with a shrug. "All gone."

Bill listened with interest while Mr. Brennan explained what was happening. He stepped forward and said, "At one time I was Chief Engineer at an electrical power plant. You've got parts, you got steam, I'll get you up and running again."

"Great, we need all the help we can find."

"Me too," Roy said. "I'm a chemist, but I've spent enough time in waste treatment plants testing water to find my way around a sewer."

It was growing late and I wanted to tie up loose ends. "Pop, we gotta return Bev to the lab, and then we'll come back to give you a hand. We told Doctor Krumboton we'd be gone a couple of days and it's been months. He must be going bonkers. Where will we find you when we're done?"

Mr. Brennan said, "The men without families have been staying in the basement of the high school. Only building in good shape." He said to Pop and the others, "It's cramped, we have women and children down there without husbands and fathers, too, but we always make room for a few more."

I'd been searching for one person I expected to see with Mr. Brennan. "Hey, where's Hank?" He wasn't anywhere. I figured he'd be sticking with Mr. Brennan, lending him a hand.

"Got him and the rest of the football team hauling garbage," Mr. Brennan replied. "The cheerleader squad is helping too. Told the whole bunch it would be good practice for next season, if there is one. Keep everyone in shape, if you know what I mean."

Kat giggled next to me. I nudged her with my elbow.

Pop said, "We are settled, then. Hunter, Kat, it will be too late for you two to return tonight. Besides, you've both had a rough few weeks. I think we can spare you," he glanced at Mr. Brennan who nodded, "for a couple of days to rest up. It will take more than one night to figure out what is the matter, clean up this place, and organize people."

"You sure?" When Pop nodded I said to Kat. "Come on, let's go get Bev. I could use a good night's sleep and no excitement. I hope she hasn't decided to wander off again."

We found an upset Bev parked where we left her.

"Aren't I pretty enough?" she wailed as we pushed through the crowd of refugees.

"What's the matter?" Kat said. "Of course your pretty – you're beautiful. Who said you weren't?"

"I am beautiful?" she sniffed. "How come they ran away?"

"Who?"

"Those men on the wall. They climbed down – and I said, 'Howdy' – and – and –
they ran
." She wailed. "Those others," she released a loud sniff, "they won't come near me either!"

A group of guards stood on top of the wall, whispering and pointing, two still had their weapons trained on her. The refugees gathered in a large ring around Bev, not too close; the rising and falling of frightened voices told me what they thought.

"Maybe you'd better not talk to strangers," I advised, eyeing the crowd, "but we'll talk to you lots."

"Oh good. At least someone loves me. Let me think of what to talk about." Bev fell silent.

As we resumed our seats, Kat started giggling.

"What's so funny – Bev?" I asked.

"No, I was thinking of Hank schlepping piles of trash around." Kat tilted back her head and let out a chortle of joy. "I wonder if Sonja is cheering for him." She waved her hands in the air holding imaginary pom-poms. "You're the man, I'm your fan! You will move those garbage cans!"

"Shoes!"

"What, Bev? What are you talking about?" I asked.

"You said we'd talk a lot. I thought about boys, dresses, and I decided on shoes."

"What about shoes?" Kat asked, still chuckling.

"We'll talk about shoes later, Bev. Right now we need to return you to the lab."

"Well, just a little then." Along the way Bev informed us she was dying for a pair of high heel leather boots. "I would be walking tall and feeling fine," she said.

Kat whispered to me, "Do you think we should tell her she also needs feet?"

"Don't you dare," I said in horror, "I can't stand it when she cries."

Bev was still rattling on when we parked in the garage and went in search of Doc. We found him at his workbench, bits and pieces of metal scattered around as if he worked on a puzzle. When we entered he exclaimed, "How did they work?" He didn't appear at all concerned about our long absence.

"Huh?"

"My children, how did they perform? You did not kill them off again, did you?" He sounded worried.

"Ah," I had forgotten all about his mechanical toys. "We didn't get a chance to use any of your bots," I confessed. "I'll have Bev unload the whole lot, first thing, as soon as possible."

"Do not bother." He waved his hand. "Keep the whole bunch until you can test the little rascals." Doc pointed to the floor of his shop. "I really do not have any space available."

Prancing around on his floor were –
things
. At first, I thought they were alive until one stumbled over my foot and began trying to wiggle up my leg. It clamped onto the inside of my pants and began a slow, arduous climb toward my groin. I pulled the bot off before it became too friendly and examined it. Up close, they reminded me of eight-legged spiders with no heads.

"What in the world are they?" said Kat in a hushed voice.

The doctor's lips twitched up. "You admire my newest inventions? Right now, I am calling them Dumaflickies. I have not had time to name each one."

"What do they do?" I asked. I placed the one I held on the floor. It tripped over my feet, picked itself up, and wandered off to bounce into a wall.

"I have not decided yet, but enough about me." He folded his arms and his chair swung in our direction. "Did you locate your father?"

"Yes. They're back in town helping out. The place is still a mess," I replied. "I don't know what good it will do though. Morgan is taking over this whole part of the country. My pop says the Greys are backing him. Unimportant people don't stand a chance."

"The Greys you say, really?" The doctor declared, disconcerted. "We cannot have an annexation of the planet, it is terrible."

"Not much we can do about Morgan or the Greys, is there?" Kat replied. "We have to hope he doesn't realize we're rebuilding and leaves us alone." She shrugged, her mouth set in a bitter line. "Is it okay with you if we stay here tonight? We'll leave in the morning."

"Hmm . . ." Doc was drumming his fingers on his desk in agitation, staring into space. "Oh, of course," he muttered, "you are welcome to remain as long as you wish." He snapped out of his trance and pointed to his worktable and the floor. "A little messy in here, but –"

"We'll be sleeping in Bev; she's the same as a home to us now," I replied. An idea occurred to me. "Tell you what, Doc, let us help clean up," I volunteered. "It'll give us something to do and sorta repay you."

"Well –"

Kat and I found brooms and dust pans, but we needed shovels. Over the years, the doctor's creations crammed all the crud into the corners, and in places metal shreds, dust, and discarded food was a foot thick.

"Hey, Doc, do you have a place to throw this stuff?" We had bags and cans filled to the brim with smelly junk.

Doctor Krumboton was busy at his computer, typing in long mathematical equations. He waved vaguely toward Bev's garage without glancing up and muttered, "In there, storage room and incinerator."

We hauled the garbage with us into the other room. Bev piped up, "Presents? For me? How sweet."

"Garbage," I replied. "Where's the incinerator?"

"Oh," Bev said, disappointed. "Those double doors, next to the elevator on your left."

"Thanks."

Two wide swinging doors stood next to the shaft, which held the freight lift. We opened them and lights snapped on. Old equipment cluttered up the place, stacks of papers, and boxes of used parts teetered in the corners. Across one wall was a cutout with a steel flap and a large sign overhead marked "INCINERATOR" in large red letters.