Paranormals (Book 2): We Are Not Alone (33 page)

“Sooo ...” Steve asked with reluctance, “what would that mean?”

Callin exchanged glances with his fellow Taalu, then looked around the expectant humans before turning his gaze to Steve.

“If Larr is right ...” Callin’s jaw clenched in very human-looking frustration before he finally stated, “We are not alone.”

TAKAYASU, SHOCKWAVE, AND COOPER

Lieutenant Michael Takayasu and partner Shockwave
, the message from Captain Brunn on his and Mark’s phones had read.
You are to report immediately to the Paranormal Correctional Facility in your home region for prisoner negotiation. They will expect your arrival ASAP.

“Prisoner negotiation?” What the hell did that mean?

Just minutes after the unnerving discovery atop the Taalu ship — the landing of which already constituted (no hyperbole here) one of the biggest events in human history — Lieutenant Takayasu and Shockwave were summoned all the way back home to the rogue pit.

Timing. Unbelievable timing. You’d think Mark and I were the only damn agents in the PCA!

Mark, true to form, had launched into an incensed tirade of swearing at his phone, and even Michael had seriously considered a curt reply that his current assignment was too important to interrupt, after which he would turn off the damned phone. Hell, he even debated just sending Ensign Pendler as his proxy, except that the guy had barely made a peep since the Taalu ships touched down, and Michael was reluctant to disturb the man’s quiet anxiety.

And now that they were here, driving up to the pit’s main entrance way too early in the morning, Michael was exhausted — it was barely even on his radar that he was so close to Christine again. He’d tried to rest on the flight back down here, but he’d never been good at sleeping on planes, and the private jet currently at their disposal was fast enough that it would’ve made for a disappointing nap, anyway. He just wanted to get this over with ... whatever the hell “this” was ... so he could return to his apartment for a few hours of sleep before heading back to Montana. No, to hell with that; they’d return to Montana immediately, and find a way to get some sleep up there.

Extraterrestrials! We were greeting more visitors from
outer space
, for Christ’s sake! What the hell is Brunn thinking?

But ... since Brunn was one of few human beings on the whole planet who knew what was really going on in Montana, Michael grudgingly admitted to himself and the others that this must truly be something critical.

Swallowing a yawn, Michael walked with Mark through the front gate of the rogue pit and waited as the guards on duty (which had doubled in number since their last visit) placed some rushed calls. In very little time, Lieutenant Commander Falkenberg, the pit’s warden, hurried out to meet them in the yard.

“Thank you,” Falkenberg said, somewhat out of breath, “thank you for coming so quickly. Thank you so much.” He was an older, overweight desk jockey, who nevertheless possessed a youthful face and an endearing smile that soothed some of Michael’s irritation. If Michael recalled, Falkenberg had been drafted directly from the norm penal system; his prisoners were far more dangerous now, but otherwise, Michael imagined that his daily routine had changed very little from the old days.

“You coulda thanked us inside, ya know,” Mark complained, unaffected by the man’s gratitude and inherent charm. “We’re both draggin’ ass and the sun’s too damn bright this morning.”

“Yes, yes, I imagine,” Falkenberg agreed with a nod, though he had no way of knowing how long they’d been up or where they’d come from to be here. “I wanted an opportunity to explain the situation to you before we reach the prisoner’s, well, holding area.”

Michael perked up a bit. Requests for additional information from Brunn had been either deflected or ignored, so Michael had guessed they were maintaining the same electronic-silence as before. After all, since precious few people knew that the Taalu had now made formal contact, they had to maintain the same professional paranoia as they had leading up to the “Arthian” synod.

To Falkenberg, Michael said, “Any information at all would be appreciated. We really don’t know anything except that this is a ‘prisoner negotiation,’ which is not something PCA field agents would usually handle.”

“You’re right, of course,” said the warden. He turned and guided them back toward the main building, but at a slow pace. “And we did begin the proceedings with representatives from the DA’s office. But the prisoner, well, he’s made a few unusual requests, and one of them,” he gestured to Michael, “was to request you. We don’t make it a habit of giving in to prisoner ultimatums, but some of his claims got the attention of the higher-ups. You know how that goes.”

“Any idea why this prisoner wanted me?” Michael asked. “Did I arrest him?”

“The first time, yes. You see, he’s one of our escapees.”

Michael and Mark exchanged a look.
No shit?
To the warden, Michael asked, “Are we talking about Perry Cooper here?”

Falkenberg nodded. “We are indeed. He was recaptured two nights ago. He attacked a PCA way station, if you can believe that. They thought he was trying to help free a rogue they had just arrested, but once he recovered, he started saying a lot of, well, strange things, making a lot of odd demands — all hush-hush like.” He glanced at Michael. “I don’t just mean
we’re
keeping it hush-hush, I mean
he
wants it hush-hush.”

As they reached the building, a pair of guards opened the doors for them. Then another guard immediately inside opened a side door, which led into a narrow, concrete service hallway with small windows running along at ceiling height. It struck Michael as odd that they weren’t heading toward the prisoner cells.

Falkenberg noticed the confusion on his face. “This is the sort of thing I’m talking about. Cooper demanded not to be kept with the other prisoners, not even in the solitary confinement wing in the basement. He wanted us to lock him up in the smallest space possible, a space tight enough that no one else could get in there with him without his knowing it, just him and that force field of his. Really paranoid. So we ended up putting him, well, in a utility closet.”

They rounded the corner, heading deeper into the building, which put an end to the high windows; now the bleak hallway was lit only by banks of sickly fluorescent lights. About fifty yards down, Michael spotted another pair of guards and a lot of standalone equipment stationed outside one of the periodic doors.

Falkenberg again read Michael’s expression. “Yes, that’s all we had time to put together on such short notice. We can’t do much about his force field itself without keeping a psi-jammer on him — one of the first demands he made when he woke up was our taking that off — but he can’t build up any momentum in there. And to be honest, it hasn’t been a problem so far. He’s made no attempts to escape, this time around.”

Mark spoke up. “Why’re you guys puttin’ up with
any
of this shit? He’s a rogue, he’s been busted twice. Why don’t ya just shove the dumbass in a cell and be done with him?”

Falkenberg shrugged. “That would’ve been my first choice, believe me. But, well, he
claims
that he can tell us how all the rogues have been escaping.”

Michael came to an abrupt halt about ten yards short of the door in question. “No shit.”

Falkenberg shrugged again. “So he claims. Now I’m sure you can see what all the fuss is about. I don’t know why we should believe him, but, well, we can’t really afford to dismiss him, either. I, for one, would love an explanation for what’s been happening.” He squared his shoulders. “I’m a pretty easygoing fellow, but I don’t appreciate the sort of blight these prisonbreaks are leaving on my record. If Cooper can tell us what’s going on, well, it was no skin off my nose to keep him in a broom closet until you boys got here.” To Mark, he said, “Believe me, if you two decide that he’s full of it, he’ll get no further special treatment from me. That’s a promise.”

Michael nodded, taking it all in. “Unless you have anything else to add, sir?” Falkenberg shook his head. “Then I suggest we get on with it and see where it takes us. I’ve got a nap with my name on it.”

Mark rubbed the heals of his palms against his eye sockets. “Ain’t that the truth ...”

Falkenberg gave them both a sympathetic look — Michael had not previously considered that, under such unusual circumstances, maybe the warden, too, had been up all night — and led them the rest of the way to the utility closet door. Waving the guards back a step, he rapped his knuckles on the door once, twice more, then a pause, then one final rap.

From behind the door came Cooper’s muffled voice. “That you, warden?”

“It is, Mister Cooper. I have the PCA agent you asked for, Lieutenant Takayasu. He’s standing here with me now.” Cooper did not reply right away, but Michael heard an odd
creak!
from within. Falkenberg said to him in a low voice, “He just turned on his force field. That was one of the side walls complaining. It doesn’t quite fit the width of the room.”

“Okay,” Cooper said. “Okay, open the door. But nobody else better come in.”

The warden nodded to one of the guards, who stepped forward to swipe a pass key through the lock. The instant the door swung slightly ajar, Cooper cried out from inside, “Okay, back! Everyone get back! Tell them, warden!”

“Yes, Mister Cooper, yes,” Falkenberg soothed him. Speaking louder than necessary for Cooper’s benefit, he said to the guards, “Stand back from the door.”

The guards did as they were ordered. Michael heard one of them sigh, and wondered how many times they’d been through this. How many DA reps and PCA reps had been here before them? What about meal times? For that matter, what was Cooper doing for toilet facilities?

Falkenberg retreated with the guards, then called out, “All right, Mister Cooper, we’re all standing back. Lieutenant Takayasu is going to pull the door open now. Is that all right?”

“... yeah. Yeah, come on in.”

Exchanging one final glance with Mark, who rolled his eyes, Michael pulled the door open, and the smell told him exactly what Cooper was using for his toilet needs.

When you’re paranoid, I guess a mop bucket makes an acceptable chamber pot.

Cooper looked awful. He was unwashed, unshaven, and appeared to have lost about ten pounds since Michael last laid eyes on him. Cooper must’ve had a hard time while on the run.

“Yeah,” Cooper said, his voice still a little muffled, coming from within his bubble. “Yeah, you’re the guy. You were in charge at my apartment complex.”

It wasn’t really a question, but Michael still answered, “Yes, I was. And I was here when you escaped.”

“Who’s that with you?

“My partner, Shockwave. You should recognize him as well.”

“Yeah. He’s the one who fell in the pool.”

Mark grumbled, and Michael made damn sure to keep all traces of humor out of his voice when he said, “Yes.”

“Okay,” Cooper said. “Where’s the other guy?”

“I’m sorry?”

“The other guy. The one who’s always in the news.”

Mark snorted, but his tone was surprisingly civil when he said to the prisoner, “Powerhouse ain’t with us, Cooper. We didn’t know you wanted him, too.”

But Cooper waved that away. “No, not him. I mean, he’d be okay, I guess. He’s in the news and he was there before it all started, but I’m talking about the
other
guy. The one who did this.” He pointed at the remains of his ear.

Michael cocked his head. “Vortex?”

“Yeah, him. The superhero guy. He’s not here?” Agitated, Cooper called out, “Warden! I said I wanted the superhero, too!”

Remaining out of Cooper’s view, Falkenberg said, “I passed along your request, Mister Cooper. But I warned you at the time that it probably would not go over well. Remember?”

Michael looked a question over to Falkenberg, who nodded; he was telling the truth.

Under his breath, Mark said, “I guess Brunn’s only takin’ the vigilante-turned-Earth’s ambassador bit so far.”

Michael nodded, then said to Cooper, “I’m sorry, we honestly did not know you wanted to see Vortex. I guess the two of us will have to do ... unless you’d like to call this whole thing off and move to a regular cell?”

Cooper held up his hands in surrender; Michael could see that they were shaking. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll ... I’ll take what I can get. I can’t be moving around.” Cooper drew a deep breath, presumably to settle his nerves or harden his resolve. “Okay, come on in and close the door.”

“Mister Cooper,” the warden said, still hanging back out of sight, “the room is too small. They can’t join you in there unless you drop your force field. This was per
your
 request, remember.”

“Yeah, okay, I got it.”

Huffing one more breath, Cooper dropped his shield. No sooner had his feet touched the floor then he moved as far from the doorway as he could. He waved Michael and Mark inward with impatient hands.

With one final glance back to the warden, who offered a tired smile in return, Michael stepped into the room.

Mark joined him, closing the door behind them; the only light came from a pair of incandescent bulbs above. Not a second had passed before Mark said, “Cooper, you better make this quick. We don’t plan to stand here and breathe your shit all day, you know what I’m sayin’?”

“Hey,” Cooper snapped, “you think this is fun for me, punk?!”

Before they could really get going at one another, Michael held up a hand in each of their faces. To Mark, he said, “Shush,” which received a shrug. To Cooper, he said, “Mister Cooper, my partner’s delivery aside, he has a point. We were pulled away from an extremely important assignment to be here, apparently at your insistence. What do you say we get to it so that maybe we can
all
get out of this closet, all right?”

Cooper’s gaze dropped to the floor, and he looked more miserable than ever. “Sure, sure. I just want this to be over.”

“The warden said you know something about how the rogues have been escaping?”