Authors: Ken Goddard
“In essence,” the dark figure nodded.
“So why have you been collecting our memories?” Cellars asked. “Mine, Jody’s, Bobby’s … the Senator’s … the Reverend’s … and all the others?”
The dark figure remained silent for a long time before he finally spoke.
“We find humans fascinating. There is an enormous demand for the memories of interesting humans that can be … displayed.”
“But you really mean ‘played’ or ‘experienced’ — not ‘displayed’ — don’t you?”
The dark figure’s silence gave Cellars his answer.
“Leaving your ‘donors’ out in the woods — without their memories, to live or die on their own — was kind of cruel; but I’m guessing you really didn’t consider that as being a relevant issue … much less a problem?”
More silence.
“On the other hand, one
could
make the argument that leaving nut-cases like the Senator, Tillman and the Reverend Slogaan out in the cold to start all over again — without their old memories — really isn’t such a bad thing. I kind of like the idea,” Cellars went on with apparent indifference. “So, shall we start with Jody?”
“First, I want to see more of your ‘negotiating points.’”
Cellars reached down into Montgomery’s BC pouch with his left hand and pulled out a pair of small transparent glass cylinders with rounded ends — each about six inches long and two inches in diameter, and visibly containing three stones and a white clay-like material — with that looked like tiny quarter-inch long thorns sticking all over the transparent glass surface. Leaning forward, he tossed them onto the snowy ground next to the mesh bag.
“You may recall the larger glass containment cylinder I used to blow up your sanctuary a few days ago,” Cellars said conversationally. “I don’t … but I
do
have a sense of the power involved, because I still have some the fragments in my neck and head. These are what Malcolm calls a ‘technical upgrade’ on the basic model. As you can see, there are three of your stones in each cylinder … with Allesandra’s stone in one and her ‘mother’s in the other. I’m going to assume that you can tell them apart, and will open the appropriate one when the time arrives.”
“The white material is possibly undoubtedly an explosive, and the thorns like small antennas … and you must have at least one remote transmitter with you,” the dark figure pointed out.
“I don’t,” Cellars corrected, “but Malcolm does.”
“You are willing to let him sacrifice you ... if necessary?”
“That’s what kings do,” Cellars said with a shrug. “It generally sucks to be a knight out on the battlefield, but there are the occasional fringe benefits.”
“Such as?”
“We’ll get to that, eventually.”
“Do you understand you could never accomplish — with these cylinders — what you did in our sanctuary a few days ago, even though you have one of your crude YAG lasers attached to that helicopter?”
“Here’s how I see the situation,” Cellars said calmly. “I’m guessing we could shoot our lasers and machineguns and cannons at that ship of yours all day long and probably never put so much as a scratch on her outer surface.”
“Yes,” the creature said coldly.
“And I’m also guessing that the only reason that Dawson’s YAG laser worked the first time was because the accidental collision occurred when some part of your ship’s outer shell was still open … thereby allowing that specific frequency of light to penetrate the interior and activate all your accumulated stones. I don’t remember, but I assume your second ship must have had its cargo bay — or something else — open when our Agent Boggs turned on that laser inside your sanctuary.”
Cellars paused to allow the creature to comment, but got no response.
“And we’re also assuming that the ship you have out there today is not only equivalently tough on the outside, but probably has some nasty weapons that could destroy us all in a few seconds …
if
you didn’t mind leaving a lot of potentially embarrassing evidence in your wake.
“And we’re even willing to bet serious money that it has some kind of beam transporter to suck you and your shadowy buddies up through some tiny hole in the hull at the last second before you take off,” Cellars went on when the dark figure continued to remain silent. “That would make sense in a classic sci-fi sort of way.”
“But the thing we
don’t
believe you can do is suck these two metal cylinders and that bag of very solid stones up through that same tiny hole, all at the same time. Malcolm doesn’t believe that’s possible, even with your advanced technologies. He thinks you’re going to have to open up a little bigger hole in your hull to get all that stuff through … which could possibly make you vulnerable to our YAG laser, if you start playing games without rules instead of going for a fair exchange.”
The dark figure sat silent.
“And, of course, the instant those stones and the cylinders are safely inside the ship, we’re assuming that Malcolm’s transmitters will no longer be effective … thus leaving your ship intact … and you and I down here all by ourselves to work out the end game with my good buddy,” Cellars continued on. “You know we’re not going to bring in a bunch of fighter jets or other military toys to try to take that ship out, because we’re all out here too … in the open … in the direct line of fire.”
Cellars waved his left hand in the general direction of Marcini, Sutta, Montgomery, Byzor and the twenty-five-or-so sprawled figures still being treated some distance away.
“You
do
have that one helicopter pilot watching out for you,” the alien observed.
“True, but his job is going to be to take Jody and Bobby out of here after you have restored their memories, while I stay. Malcolm might be willing to sacrifice them, but I’m not.”
“Ah,” the dark figure purred.
“So, shall we start with Jody’s memories, and then Bobby’s … and see how the game progresses?”
“Yes.”
The dark figure gestured with his head over his shoulder at cluster of trees and boulders about thirty yards behind his back … where a solitary, dark-haired figure, wrapped in a long white blanket, suddenly appeared and began walking slowly toward the stumps.
“Is that really her … and not some game-playing replica?” Cellars asked.
“Yes, it is she,” the dark figure replied solemnly.
Seconds later, Bobby Dawson dropped the Kiowa Warrior onto the ground midway between the oncoming figure and the stumps, leaping out of the helicopter with his helmet still on. He looked from Colin to Jody, and froze as Cellars signaled him to stay where he was.
Keeping his Sig Sauer tightly gripped in his right hand, Colin slipped the zip-locked bag back into his BC pouch, approached the advancing figure and called out, “Hi Jody, are you all right?”
The figure froze at the sound of Cellar’s voice.
Cellars hand tightened on the grip of his pistol as he continued to advance.
“Jody, it’s okay … it’s me, Colin.”
Her eyes blinked uneasily.
“Colin?”
The sound of her voice caused Cellars to stop dead in his tracks as the memories poured through his numbed mind.
Long hair and ripped-up jeans. The smooth strumming sounds of her guitar.
“I love you, Colin.”
“I love you too.”
Oh my god
.
He blinked in shock, feeling the emotions tearing at his heart as the fragmentary and intertwined memories triggered by her voice continued to flow.
“Wait, Bobby, don’t!
Pain.
Bright Lights.
An explosion.
Screaming.
The memories were coming faster now, over-lapping and intertwining in ways that didn’t even begin to make sense. They were both staring at each other now, her eyes visibly blinking away tears as if she was remembering the same fragments also …
The echoing chords coming off her fingers. And then nothing … just darkness.
Cellars shook his head violently, and then stared at the stricken face he now remembered so vividly, feeling the lump rise in his throat.
Please, let it be her. Let her be okay.
“Is it really … you?” she asked, the desperate hope and wrenching fear palpable in her voice.
“Yeah, it’s really me,” he said softly as he came up to her … stopping an arm length away, the index finger of his right hand brushing against the Sig Sauer’s trigger, some feral portion of his mind on edge and ready to take over the instant that …
She looked into Cellar’s eyes, a tentative smile playing on her lips.
“It is you, isn’t it? I still can’t remember you, but your voice … I know it’s you, but it doesn’t make any sense.”
“What do you remember about my voice?” he asked gently
“I remember —” she cocked her head in sudden awareness, “— that you never could sing on key.”
Okay
, he thought as he stepped forward until he was close enough to lean forward next to her left ear, his finger tightening on the trigger,
all or nothing
. He took in a deep breath, and then — in a voice crackling off key with emotion and ineptness — began to sing softly …
Her eyes widened in recognition, and she started to say something … but then shook her head and finished the verse in a voice that to Cellars sounded angelic.
Almost overwhelmed by the emotions of relief — and something else that he didn’t want to even think about — Cellars used every bit of control he had over his voice to croak out the start of the next verse.
Then he stopped, slipping his finger off the trigger as Jody took it over …
Pressing the Sig Sauer tightly against his thigh, Cellars took her in a one-armed bear hug that he thought might have gone on forever if he hadn’t sensed Dawson coming up beside him. Knowing instinctively that it was the right thing to do, he released her and stepped away as his long-lost buddy stepping into his vacated space.
“Jody?” Cellars heard Dawson whisper, and then watched calmly as two of the best friends he had ever known held each other tightly. He had already made his decision when he sensed the presence of the creature at his side.
“Okay,” he growled, glaring at the black alien figure as he reached into his BC pouch with his left hand and removed the zip-locked bag, “let’s do it.”
The creature’s violet eyes glanced briefly down at the Sig Sauer. Then, in a series of calm and seemingly indifferent motions, he unzipped the bag in Cellars’ extended hand, removed one of the diamond earrings, and started toward Jody … who immediately cringed back into Dawson’s protective arms.
“It’s okay, hon, he’s just going to give you your memories back, nothing else,” Cellars heard Dawson murmur into her ear. And then, when she didn’t move, he watched Dawson step forward.
“Why don’t I go first,” Dawson said, staring into the creatures violet eyes with an emotion that Cellars couldn’t even begin to read.
Silently, and with seeming indifference, the creature removed the second earring from the bag in Cellar’s hand, stepped forward, and pressed it to Dawson’s temple.
Dawson closed his eyes and shuddered for a long moment. Then his eyes snapped open. Slowly — almost caressingly — his eyes took in first Cellars and then the impassive creature before he turned to Jody.
“That’s better,” he said, looking at her in an encouraging way, “and it doesn’t hurt at all. Want to try it?”
Hesitating only a brief moment, Jody nodded her head.
Moving slowing and carefully now under Dawson’s unblinking gaze, the creature pressed the second earring against Jody’s temple. She, too, closed her eyes, shuddered, and then looked around as if awakening from a dream.
“Are you ready now?” the creature said to Cellars, nodding his rubbery head at the pendant that Cellars now held in his left hand.
“No, thanks,” Cellars replied as he slipped the diamond necklace over his still-hooded head. “I think I’m fine the way I am.”
Dawson and Jody stared at him in disbelief.
“But Colin,” Jody began, and then stopped. They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Then Cellars turned to Dawson.
“It looks like she’s starting to get cold. Why don’t you fly her over to the campsite, wrap her up in some blankets, and get her started on some hot chocolate. I’ll finish things up here.”
Dawson’s eyes flickered between Cellars and Jody, and then settled back on the creature for another long moment before he said: “you sure about that, bud?”
Cellars smiled. “You willing to give me a shot at those chopper controls?”
“No.”
“Then you’d better do the flying. I’ll be fine here. My negotiating partner and I still have a few details to work out.
* * *
Cellars waited until the Kiowa bearing Bobby and Jody rose up into the cold moonlit night, swerved away, and then disappeared somewhere behind the four transport helicopters.
Then he turned to face the dark figure.
“They got the earrings, and I got the pendant. Why would that be?” he asked.
“It was Allesandra’s choice. She said she liked having your memories resting next to her heart.”
“A real romantic character, that Allesandra.”
“Not really … at least not in the sense that you probably mean … but you have to understand —”
“— that the memories she really wanted were Malcolm’s?” Cellars finished.
The dark figure blinked. “You knew?”
“Bobby and I suspected it,” Cellars said with a shrug. “Who really wants to be hanging out with a couple of scruffy knights when you can have a shot at the top dog?”