Authors: Unknown Author
“This way,” Neville instructed, leading them down a featureless cinder-block corridor.
“What was this before it was borrowed by Diana?” said Lauren.
“A control facility for tanker traffic coming in and out of this port.” Neville slowed as he spotted a Visitor at a security desk at the junction of two hallways. This alien was also without his human mask. His hat was off and he was scratching his skull crest with one green-scaled finger. Motioning for the others to stay back around a comer, Neville walked up to the security guard. The guard cradled his laser gun protectively.
“Commander,” the alien addressed Neville. “Isn’t it late to be here? I thought everyone had returned to the Mother Ship.”
“They did. I came back to check on a few things. It won’t be long now, eh, Lieutenant?”
“No, sir.”
“At any rate, I heard a noise from the main relay room. I was wondering if you had the key so I could check it out?”
“Yes, sir.” The Visitor reached into his uniform and produced a crystalline blade with notches chipped into it. He followed Neville, who then stepped back as they neared the comer and let the alien go ahead. Pete suddenly stepped out in the Visitor’s path and delivered a two-handed roundhouse clout to the jaw. As the guard went down, Neville added a sweeping kick to the chest, then finished the job with a pistol butt to the back of the head.
“A little bmtal there,” said Lauren, showing her distaste for excessive violence.
“Gets the job done.” Neville snatched the sparkling key from the unconscious guard’s hand and slid it into the relay room’s lock. The door opened. Neville and Abdul dragged the Visitor in after them.
“I take it this door is a little Visitor addition?” the prince said.
Neville nodded. “You know what happens when every Tom, Dick, and Neville gets his hands on the key.”
Lauren hung back in the doorway. “You guys take care of this. I’ll take his guard post in case someone else comes by. It’ll look pretty suspicious if they notice a missing guard.” Pete nodded. “Be careful.”
“I’ll be careful
-—you
be
quick."
Neville was already at a computer terminal when Pete turned in and shut the door behind him. He and Abdul hovered over the Englishman’s shoulders as Neville’s slender fingers raced over the keyboard, pausing, then flicking the keys again. He sat back and watched alien lettering appear on the CRT. With a deep breath, he cleared the screen and shut off the computer. “Well?” Pete prompted.
“Bad news.”
“We’re not too late, are we?” said Abdul.
Neville shook his head. “No, but Diana’s figured out the key. They’re ready to start the injection process here at Safaniya tonight.” He looked at his watch. “We’ve got about two hours. And that
was
her ship up there—here to supervise in person.”
“Is that gonna be enough time?” said Pete.
“Don’t know, mate. But if we’re going to have any chance at all, we’ve got to get cracking.”
Pete and Abdul started for the door first, then skidded to a halt at the sound of a laser pistol behind them. They turned and saw that Neville had shot the Visitor guard.
“Bloody bastard.” Neville flexed his eyebrows. “Couldn’t very well leave him alive to call in a report as soon as he comes to. Don’t look so concerned—just a lizard. He’d do the same to us given half a chance, eh?”
They rushed out, beckoned to Lauren, and headed for the front door. Pausing briefly before crossing the compound, they saw no one around except Lavi out at the fence. As they drew near, the Israeli held the flap of fencing open for them and they climbed through. Then he detached the neutralization device and shoved it into his bag.
“So?”
“We’ve got two hours to stop that thing,” Pete said gravely.
Out in the harbor, the Visitor drilling platform waited in brooding silence.
They retreated to their storefront hiding place to go over the plan once more, but Neville interrupted.
“There’s going to be a minor change,” he announced. Pete crossed his arms. “Oh, and what’s that?”
“I go out to the platform alone.”
There was a quiet moment as what he said sank in, then the protests exploded.
Pete waved his hands for attention. “Shut up. Diana’ll be able to hear us all the way up to her ship. Now, what the hell are you babbling about, More?”
“I’m not babbling, Forsythe. I’m going alone, and that’s final. If I don’t, this mission will fail.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Quite simple, actually. The security-clearance system I designed for the drilling platform is a hundred times more complex and exacting than the facility we just broke into. I can’t just waltz you all in with a little credit card. The program is primed to let me in with the proper password—but
only
me. To get anyone else in would be a difficult and time-consuming piece of business. We don’t have that kind of time.”
Pete pounded one fist into the other palm. “Dammit. How the hell do you expect me to let you go up there alone? How are we supposed to know what you do in there?”
“You don’t have any choice, Forsythe.”
“The man has a point there, Yank,” said Abdul.
Lauren took an aggressive stance, hands on hips. “What exactly
will
you be doing, Neville?”
“Activating a pair of cleverly concealed computer viruses. ” “A pair?” Lauren asked.
He nodded. “Yes, yes—don’t you see? If we simply stop Diana this time, she’ll just try it again another day, maybe another place.”
“You have some way of preventing a repeat performance?” said Pete.
“I pride myself on staying one step ahead of my friends, Forsythe. You never know when they may turn out to be your enemies.”
“Okay, so what’re you gonna do?” Pete prodded.
“The first virus wipes out the program that actually controls the injection of the oil-tainting bacteria into the underground deposit. The second goes all the way back into the Visitors’ entire computer memory-—every single bank through the entire fleet—and wipes out every entry that has anything to do with the bacteria’s design and production. It’ll take them months to recreate all the research.”
Abdul was impressed. “Months? Really?”
“Yes, yes!” Neville was extremely emphatic. “This wasn’t some high school science project. Designing a form of life from scratch is a terribly complicated bit of work. And I know for a fact that these high-tech lizards don’t write in notebooks. Every scrap of data on something as top secret as this goes directly into the computer system.”
“You’re sure all this’ll work?” said Pete.
“Of course I’m sure.” Righteous indignation colored Neville’s reply. “But it’s going to take me a little time to trigger the viruses. I can’t waste it getting you in with me so you can drool over my shoulder.”
Pete looked to Lauren, who gave a half-hearted shrug. “The President said we were in charge,” she said. “Trusted us to make the last-minute decisions. I’d say Neville’s made this one for us.”
Pete walked over to the Englishman and stood toe to toe. “If you’re lying, if you screw us, I’ll personally dismantle you bone by bone. I’m a doctor—I know just how many parts to remove.”
Neville flashed a one-second smile. “I’ll do my job, mate. You all do yours and get me out to that rig.”
Lauren and Lavi waited in the VW van, parked between two buildings near the docks. Still in Visitor dress, Pete, Abdul, and Neville climbed down a rope ladder to an inflatable Zodiac launch left in the water for them by one of Abdul’s local resistance members. The Zodiac bobbed between the pier pilings and the black steel flank of a freighter’s hull, thus hidden from any Visitors who might be surveying the area. Pete untied the mooring line and pushed away while Abdul watched the other side to keep from bumping into the freighter.
The boat had a small outboard motor engine mounted at its stem, but they paddled partway to avoid making noise. The alien rig was about a half mile out in the Gulf’s glassy waters.
“You’re sure there’s nobody aboard that platform?” Pete said, switching the motor on when they were far enough out.
“There shouldn’t be,” Neville answered. “It was designed to be operated completely from the Mother Ship. You know, I’m actually surprised they’re starting so soon. I didn’t think they’d be ready for days.”
The Visitors platform looked much like the other rigs constructed in the shallow shore-hugging areas of the Gulf, but it was considerably smaller, with just two fifty-foot-wide tablelike sections standing in the water. Boxy modules sat on each platform, with the tower supporting the drill itself mounted in the center. Pete attributed the less complex design to the fact that the Visitors weren’t pumping oil out, just pumping bacteria in.
The Zodiac drifted close to the rig’s southwest leg, which had rungs built into it. Abdul, at the front of the boat, grabbed on and managed to swing alongside the foot of the ladder. Neville started to stand up, then thought better of it when he nearly pitched overside. On hands and knees, he reached for the bottom rail and pulled himself up.
“We’ll wait for you,” Peter said.
Neville began his climb. “No. Don’t wait. I’ll signal you when I’m nearly done. If anything goes wrong, no point in all of us becoming Diana’s breakfast.”
“Don’t take any stupid chances.”
Neville grinned. “I’m a practical man, Forsythe. You should know that by now.”
“Good luck,” Abdul called as Neville continued up the ladder without a look back. When he’d reached the top and disappeared over the edge, the Saudi pushed away and he and Pete motored back toward shore.
With a grunt, Neville hauled himself up onto the platform. He kneeled to catch his breath, noting how dark it was here in the middle of the Persian Gulf. Diana had considered the possibility of overt human attack, as the unfortunate Israeli Air Force squadron had discovered.
But one man in a rubber raft?
thought Neville with great satisfaction. He’d convinced her the internal security of a fail-safe computer program would protect against any such foolhardy individual.
“And it would have, too,” Neville murmured. “Anybody but me.”
Keeping low, he scurried across the open deck to the larger of the two equipment modules. It was constructed from a dull-surfaced alien alloy, the combination of metals forming a lightweight armor plating virtually impervious to anything humans might shoot at it. Neville recalled Lavi Mayer’s desire to use explosives—wouldn’t have done a bit of good. The only weapon able to penetrate this armor was Neville’s mind.
He searched along the structure’s north wall until he found a small access hatch cleverly concealed, its edge blending into the seams of the wall itself. He opened it to reveal a compact computer terminal much like the one that had guarded the isolation chamber where they’d found Hannah Donnenfeld in the Mother Ship.
“All right, listen to Papa,” Neville trilled softly. Eyes closed, he shuffled through his memory for the series of codes he’d need simply to open the door and get inside where the main computer was located.
Lauren leaned on the Volkswagen’s steering wheel. Lavi sat in the passenger seat next to her, his feet wedged against the dashboard, wrist propped on his knees, sleeve pulled back so he could see his watch.
“Want to know how much time left, Lauren?”
“Not really.” Her head never turned.
“Sixty-five minutes.”
“Why did you bother to ask?”
“Just trying to be polite.”
“But you ignored my answer.”
He shrugged casually. “You gave me the wrong answer.”
The Zodiac rose and fell in rhythm with the swells lapping at the pier. Pete sat stiffly on the center bench, binoculars seemingly attached to the bridge of his nose. Abdul lounged behind him, legs draped over a seat slat, back flat on the boat’s flexible bottom, head leaning on the round side wall.
“Hey, Yank, if you keep that up, your arms will lock at the elbows.”
“Don’t tell me—a watched Neville never boils.”
“What are you looking at?”
“The rig.”
“And what’s it doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Seems like a boring hobby then, wouldn’t you say?” Pete chuckled. “Reminds me of the one time I went bird-watching.”
“Well, let’s hope this is the only time we have to rig-watch.”
“Dammit, I wish I could see him.”
The prince yawned. “If you could see him, that would mean one of the following: he was already done, which would be smashing but unlikely, or he couldn’t get in, or he was paralyzed with fright and hadn’t budged since we left him there.”
“I guess you’re right, Abdul.”
“Does that mean you’re going to stop?”
“Nope.”
Neville found perspiration beading on his brow, despite the relatively cool night. He used his sleeve to wipe the sweat away before it dripped into his eye, the way it did when he played tennis on a sultry day. He hated that salty sting. “Okay, mate. Last number now. ...”
He tapped the miniature keyboard. The indicator light above it blinked to life, then flashed in sequence—red, purple, biue. He heard an electrical hum issuing from the panel. Then the outline of a person-sized entry hatch became visible where none could be seen a moment before as a portion of the alloy wall literally edged forward, moving two inches out from the surrounding surface. He could hear the whirring of hydraulics, and the door slid aside, uncovering a narrow entry space. He sucked in a last breath of night air, then darted into the module.
It was totally dark inside. He fumbled for the pencil flashlight he’d slipped into a pocket.
Which pocket? Hands are jittery, mate. Calm yourself. . . . Must have at least
— Neville glanced at his lighted wristwatch, then swallowed nervously. “Fifty minutes left,” he said out loud, surprised to find that much time had gone by.
Moving with purposeful resolve, he stepped directly to the computer console across the dark chamber. Even the computer seemed deep in slumber, its electronic face of indicator lights off, its CRT blank. He slid down into the molded chair, stretched, took a deep breath, and roused the machine. In an all-finger assault, he typed a flurry of commands and information, filling the screen with alien words and numbers. His shoulders hunched, face bright with his own intensity as well as the reflected glow of the CRT, Neville directed the computer like a symphony conductor caught up in the passion of his music. His motions accelerated to a near frenzy, comers of his mouth turning up progressively until the faintest of sly smiles had erupted into a full-voiced cackle of victory.