Paradise Hacked (First Circle Club Book 2) (40 page)

He drove off.

* * *

Harlow walked through a gap between trees and saw the Rocket to Heaven ride. It was less impressive than he had expected.

The launch towers were shorter than some of the trees. The construction used old-fashioned rivets. Gold paint had flaked off to reveal bare steel underneath, but at least the steel wasn't rusty. A system of cables, pulleys, and cylindrical counterweights provided the lift for launching the rider.

Harlow looked at the open cage where the rider sat and immediately saw a problem. If he put on the armored spacesuit, he wouldn't fit in the seat. It was barely big enough for an adult who wasn't wearing a hundred pounds of titanium and life support equipment. He was afraid he would fall out or the cage would flip over during the launch.

Colonel Knox arrived, still dressed as a gas worker. "This is it?" he said in a tone of disbelief.

"That's what I was told, sir," Harlow said. "The operation is simple. No special dances or magical chants this time. I just take a ride, and the thing flings me through a portal in the sky. Obviously, we have to detach the top half of the cage, and I can't wear a seatbelt. I think we'll also need to widen the seat."

"Seems insanely dangerous. If it doesn't work, you'll have a long fall ending in a violent stop. I doubt the suit will save your life."

"That's not the part I'm most worried about."

"Oh?" Knox said.

"That is."

Harlow pointed to a wooden shack near the ride just as an old man came out. His long gray hair pointed in every direction. His coveralls had patches on the knees, and his work boots were badly scuffed.

"Who are you?" the old man said in a hostile tone.

"We're from the natural gas company," Knox said. "There is a dangerous gas leak on the premises. You need to leave immediately. My workmen will escort you out."

He signaled with his finger. Harlow looked back and saw a half-dozen soldiers come forward. They were disguised as civilians, and their weapons were concealed. Coats covered smaller items such as pistols and grenades. Backpacks held compact assault rifles and spare ammunition. Body armor beneath the soldiers' clothes added bulk to their already muscular bodies.

The old man crossed his arms and widened his stance. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't be difficult," Knox said. "You could get very sick if you stay here. You might catch blue skin disease. They put toxic chemicals in the gas, you know."

"Stop lying. There is nothing in the air. It would be best if you left. This ride is for children."

"Not today." Knox turned to his men. "Take him away, gentlemen."

"Wait!" Harlow said. "Don't touch him. Colonel, if I may have a word..."

He and Knox stepped aside.

"What's the problem?" Knox said.

"He's not human. He may look like a frail old man, but I was warned that's just a disguise. He is the guardian of the portal."

Knox furrowed his brow and stared at the old man.

"I suggest you just shoot him, sir," Harlow added, "but wait 'til I get behind a tree."

He backed away from the impending fight and took cover fearfully.

Knox drew a beefy .45 caliber pistol from under his jacket. He aimed at the old man's chest.

"My friend tells me you're some kind of guardian," he said.

The old man narrowed his eyes. "How would he know that? You must be the ones who are causing all the trouble lately."

"You're right, so you know we're serious."

"If you persist in this foolishness, you'll soon be seriously dead."

"Is that a threat?" Knox said.

"It's a statement of fact," the old man replied calmly.

Knox looked at his six soldiers. "Go hot."

They shrugged off their backpacks, took out their assault rifles, and prepared the guns for firing. They removed their outer coats so they could easily grab the weapons underneath.

The old man sneered. "Just six of you? I'm insulted."

"You don't even have a gun," Knox said.

The old man closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they glowed with a pure, white light.

"I don't need a gun," he said in a deep voice which boomed like a pipe organ. "Turn away from that which is forbidden. Forget this secret place. Return to your mortal lives, or you will see what happens to those who defy the will of the Lord."

Knox set his jaw stubbornly. He spoke into a microphone attached to his lapel.

Harlow smiled a little. The colonel wasn't the most insightful man, but he never lacked determination. He simply didn't know how to quit.

More soldiers arrived. Scientists, technicians, and other support personnel also came, but Harlow waved for them to stay back. The non-combatants took cover behind the screen of trees and bushes.

Finally, the old man was facing a force of forty heavily armed men arranged in a loose semicircle at a respectful distance. For once, Knox made the wise decision to not lead from the front. He stood behind his soldiers with his gun in hand.

"Aim!" he ordered.

The soldiers pointed their rifles at the old man. All the guns had suppressors, but Harlow still covered his ears.

The old man expanded and changed shape rapidly. His clothes split and fell away. A few seconds later, a magnificent, golden creature was standing in the clearing. It had the body of a dragon with enormous, feathered wings. Diamond claws would've made any dinosaur proud. The monster had the red head of a rooster with a long, sharp beak.

It screeched loud enough to hurt Harlow's ears even though they were covered. The awful noise vibrated his guts.

All the soldiers opened fire.

Harlow threw himself face-down on the ground.

The battle was short but fierce. Even though the weapons were suppressed, the gunshots collectively sounded like a thunderstorm. When the noise finally stopped, Harlow raised his head.

The monster was down, and white fluid leaked from thousands of bullet holes in its golden hide. The corpses of men surrounded it. Some had been bitten in half, and foot-long claws had torn others apart despite body armor. Bright red blood covered the creature's beak. Harlow estimated fifteen soldiers had died.

"Medics!" Knox yelled. "Attend the wounded!"

White smoke began to rise up from the monster, and its flesh melted away. It sublimated like dry ice in the sun. Half a minute later, the thing was completely gone, but many spent bullets were left on the grass.

Harlow cautiously walked over to Knox. "We won, sir. Congratulations. I'll ask the technicians to start assembling the suit."

Knox stared at Harlow with a shell-shocked expression.

Major Weber came over. The security chief for the Unit had the body of a gorilla. As usual, he was wearing orange safety goggles.

"Sir," Weber said, "what the hell did we just fight?"

"An alien," Knox said, "I guess."

Harlow nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, that was an alien. Now let's get on with the experiment. There are more aliens out there. They could show up any second."

"It didn't look like an alien," Weber said, "or talk like one. It was more... mythical."

"How would you know? Have you met a lot of aliens? Are you familiar with the various breeds? You should be excited! You just saw your first extraterrestrial!"

"And it slaughtered us."

"Which is why this experiment is so critical. We have to understand them better and learn their weaknesses. I'll get things going with the suit while you clean up the mess."

Harlow jogged off before more uncomfortable questions could be asked.

* * *

Cat looked out the window of the minivan as it came to a stop in front of Cubbie Propane Sales. A huge lot was full of round white tanks of various sizes. They ranged from small canisters suitable for a backyard barbeque up to giant industrial tanks. Many were mounted on wheels or even full-size trucks.

"You understand your instructions?" Kyle said. "Think detonate, not incinerate."

"Yes," Alfred said. "You explained it ten times."

"Then go."

Alfred and Cat got out of the minivan. As soon as they were clear, Virgil drove off with the rest of the team.

Cat looked at her partner for this assignment. Alfred was still dressed as an Air Force soldier because there hadn't been time to buy new clothes. He was holding a leather bag full of cash and gold, but she didn't know exactly how much. He also had a pocket bulging with C-4.

Being so close to a big wad of plastic explosive made Cat very nervous. She could deal with guns, although she never used them herself. Bombs were too hard-core even for her.

"Let me do the talking," Cat said.

"No," Alfred said. "That's my role."

"Are you a good liar?"

"I'm terrible at it. I detest lies."

"Then how do you expect to pull this off?" she said.

"With the truth."

"Are you serious? Didn't being captured and tortured teach you anything?"

"Not really," he said.

He led her over to the sales office. It was a white building with metal walls. They went inside and found a tall, African-American man behind the counter. He was wearing a white T-shirt despite the cold weather outside. Glasses with square rims were an odd touch.

"Can I help you?" the salesman said.

"Yes, friend," Alfred said. "We need a very large amount of propane delivered to the Aladdin's Castle amusement park. It's a matter of life and death."

He was using his special voice. Now that Cat understood his power better, she could resist it more easily, but it was still amazing. Trust and compassion filled her to the brim. There was no reason to lie. The truth was infinitely more powerful.

She had lived a life full of lies, so the feelings were alien to her. She thought about Kyle.
This is the kind of woman he wants me to be.
She would try for his sake even though she knew the task was very difficult.

Her feelings for him were also unfamiliar. She had always seen love as a kind of emotional cancer. Until she had met him, she hadn't believed in love at first sight at all. Now whenever she looked into his eyes, her heart performed an annoying little dance. Intellectually, she was disgusted with herself, but at least she had fallen for a really cute guy.

"How much propane?" the salesman said.

"As much as can be delivered immediately," Alfred said.

"A 500 gallon tank is sitting on the back of a truck right now. We just filled it for another customer, but you can have it."

"Thank you. I am forever in your debt."

"How will you be paying?" The salesman used an old calculator on the counter. "500 gallons is 1305 dollars and 48 cents."

Alfred took a gold coin out of his sack and placed it on the counter. The coin had strange markings which reminded Cat of Spanish doubloons but were more primitive.

"That should cover it," he said. "It's pure gold. Can we go?"

She was aghast. If the coin really was pure, then the metal alone cost far more than 1300 dollars, and it appeared to have historical value besides. She hated paying for anything, much less needlessly overpaying. His actions were incomprehensible to her. Where was the skill in simply buying the propane?

The salesman looked at the coin for a moment, and then he dropped it into his pocket.

He headed for the door. "Let's find Jeb. He's my best driver."

"Oh," Alfred said, "one more thing. We'll need road flares. Do you have a box?"

* * *

Harlow frowned as he watched his assistants work on the spacesuit. The main components were laid out on a temporary workbench built from sawhorses and plywood. The men and women stood shoulder to shoulder as they all tried to be helpful at the same time, and the result was chaos. Exhaustion didn't help. Harlow saw drooping eyelids and slack expressions on all the faces. Some technicians were so tired, they could barely stay upright.

We're so close,
Harlow thought.
If we can just get this damned thing working, I can get to Heaven, and it will be over.

"Did you check the breaker panel?" he said.

"Yes, sir," a woman replied. "No faults."

"Then a wire must've come loose in the distribution board."

"That's behind a welded cover plate."

"Come at it from the inside," Harlow said.

"Cut the air-tight liner, sir?"

"We can fix it with epoxy. Come on! Hurry up! We're running out of time!"

He threw up his hands in frustration and disgust. He walked over to the Rocket to Heaven ride where technicians were trying to cut out the existing seats from the cage where Harlow would sit. One man was using a battery-powered circular saw, but the blade was just skipping over the smooth surface instead of biting into it.

"What's going on here?" Harlow yelled over the grinding noise from the saw. "You should be much further along."

The technician holding the saw turned it off. "The blade isn't cutting," he said.

"I can see that. Why not? The seats are plastic."

"They may look like plastic, sir, but the material is some kind of super-hard composite."

"Alien technology?" Harlow said.

"Maybe. We'll have to switch to a blade with a diamond edge, if we can find one."

Harlow rubbed his temples to ease the throbbing. "Do it quickly. I'm begging you."

"Yes, sir."

Harlow saw Colonel Knox approaching. Harlow straightened up and put on a confident expression.

The colonel looked at the frantic work by the technicians. "You seem to be having difficulties."

"Minor technical glitches, sir," Harlow said. "Not surprising under the circumstances, but we'll have them ironed out shortly."

"Reporters are at the front gate. They want to know about the gas leak."

"Your men are keeping them out, right?"

"For now," Knox said. "It won't be long before the real gas company shows up, and then the situation will get more difficult. The experiment wasn't supposed to take this long. I don't have to explain the risks to you. Those four aliens are still out there."

"We must persevere, sir. We have no choice."

Knox gave Harlow a hard look, turned, and walked off.

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