Authors: Stuart Clark
“We’re going to give it a go.”
“Yes.” Kate answered simultaneously. They looked at each other and laughed.
“Well, good luck. I’m sure you’ll be very happy.” Chris stepped forward and hugged Kate, planting a light kiss on her cheek. “Goodbye, Kate.” He pulled back. “Keep in touch, won’t you? Both of you, I mean. Let me know how you’re getting on.”
“We will,” Kate said. “I promise.”
“Well, good night, then.” Chris turned and trudged down the corridor.
“Good night.”
“Good night, Chris. Oh, and hey! Chris!” Wyatt called after him. The youngster turned back. “You ever heard of someone called Han-bloody-Solo?”
Chris thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No. Why?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Wyatt told him. “Good night.”
“Good night.” Chris turned away again and disappeared around the corner.
Wyatt turned to Kate and put his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. “Would you like to come in?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “I was thinking we’d have plenty of time.”
She smiled. “Yes, we will.” She kissed him. “Good night, then.”
“Good night, Kate. Thank you for not giving up on me.”
She turned and opened the door, then stepped into her suite.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Yes, you will.” The door slid closed behind her.
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Wyatt had spent most of the short flight in silence. He had wondered why he had not seen Alan at the party last night. Of all people, he, at least, should have been there. He had asked after him many times but no one seemed to know of his whereabouts. Now he knew that they were just shielding him from the truth, not wanting to spoil his evening.
The news of Alan’s death had come as a great shock to him. To both of them. It was needless and untimely, like so many had been recently.
He scrolled through the e-news on the monitor in front of him but his mind was elsewhere, not really concentrating. He nearly missed the small article that told of the two deaths at the IZP. It only amounted to about a column inch.
Chicago police today confirmed reports of a shooting at the Interplanetary Zoological Park. The two dead men were confirmed as Douglas Mannheim, MD of the IZP, and a General Kurt Leonardson, head of the Continuing Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence (CSETI).
He switched the monitor off and slowly leaned back in his seat. Someone had taken care of things back home while he’d been away.
“Are you all right?” Kate asked next to him. “You don’t look well.”
He turned to her, her face was full of concern. “I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.” She smiled. Her smile always uplifted his spirits. He put his hand over hers on the armrest and squeezed it tightly. There were more important things in life than revenge.
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Leonardson’s funeral was performed with full military honors. Many CSETI staff were there, along with his old regiment. His two sons comforted their mother, who cried when the World flag and emblem of the CSETI were presented to her and the bugler played taps.
Mannheim was buried in an out-of-town graveyard. It was a miserable day. Rain hammered down persistently and the gray sky rolled onward like an oppressive and unstoppable force. There was no one in attendance, only the vicar who performed the rites of passage and a second man who sheltered him with an umbrella. Underneath an old oak tree, a very wet detective in a raincoat and hat watched the proceedings from afar.
CHAPTER
21
Kate woke. The room was dark. It was the middle of the night. It was Wyatt’s constant fidgeting that had caused her to wake up. She turned to look at him. Even now, he was tossing and turning in his sleep. She flicked on the light and could see that he was bathed in sweat. “Wyatt?” She nudged him, concerned, but he did not wake. “Wyatt?” she said again.
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It was here again. Now. It had come for him.
He ran, pushing away the trees and leafy fronds that barred his way, blind panic pushing him onwards.
He had not seen it, but he knew it was there, chasing him, he could hear its ragged breathing as it pursued him through the forest. He knew it was the horror from before. The horror that haunted him.
He shouted at the top of his voice. For Kate. For anyone who could help him. But he was alone, lost in an unfamiliar forest, on an unfamiliar world.
The monster was closer now. Very close. The sound of its chase seemed to fill his conscious mind so he no longer knew which direction it was coming from, whether it was still behind him or whether now it was flanking him, to pounce on him from an unexpected direction as it had done before. He ran. That was all he knew. He ran.
He burst from the trees and found himself in a field. He never looked back, just ran and ran until it felt like his lungs would burst from his chest. He had to stop, he told himself, if the creature didn’t kill him then exhaustion would, but as the thought occurred to him, he realized he could no longer hear it behind him. He slowed, then stopped, and though he didn’t really want to, he took a look behind him.
And there it was. Black and clawed, evil and malevolent.
The sight frightened him, but the creature was not on top of him. It had stopped at the tree line as if not daring to come out in the open. It snapped and snarled at him, but would not leave the safety of the forest.
It came to him then in a blinding flash. This dream, this monster. It meant something. It was his past. Dark, dangerous and violent. He had always run from it and it had always threatened to consume him. As he watched, the monster morphed and changed and Tanya stood in its place. He wanted to go to her then, to tell her he was sorry for all that had happened, but somehow he knew that it was just a dream. She smiled and waved to him and he cried to see her so happy. “Go” she mouthed to him. “You are free.” She turned and her image seemed to fade and disappear as she walked back into the forest.
He fell to his knees and lifted his head to the sky, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face. Today was the first day of the rest of his life, and it was going to be a beautiful day.
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As she watched, Wyatt seemed to calm and settle in his sleep. For a moment there she could have sworn she saw a slight smile cross his features. Tenderly, she dabbed his forehead with a damp cloth and then, putting it down on the bedside table, she put her arm across him and snuggled into his back. “Sleep well, Wyatt Dorren,” she whispered. “I love you.”
Wyatt did indeed give up his position at the IZP and took a job as a shuttle pilot with Kate’s father’s freight forwarding firm. In the early days he and Kate would often pilot together and combine work with short interstellar breaks.
They were married in the spring of ‘52. 2452. They now have one son, Alex Byron, to whom Chris is godfather.
These days Wyatt plies the trade routes between Earth, the moon-base, Mars Colony and the mining moons of Jupiter. He doesn’t like to venture too much further and spends as much time as he can with his beautiful wife, their baby boy and their rather unusual family pet.
Chris re-took his trapper exams and passed with honors. Bobby too, stayed with Project U.L.F and became an expedition leader. The two of them now make a formidable partnership and are always assigned together. They hold the unequaled record of sixty-two U.L.F expeditions without casualty.
Before serious investigations could get underway, an unidentified somebody at the CSETI ordered the date of discovery of the code black planet system at the center of the row to be backdated and a name, CDS-PS1 (Centari Deep Space—Planet System One), assigned to it. All files pertaining to the CDS-PS1 were placed in a magnetically sealed box and secured in a corner of a very deep vault in a very remote CSETI outpost. The maxi-shuttle Endeavour was scrapped within days of arriving at the moon-base.
Detective superintendent Ed Lieberwits was taken off the IZP case three months after the incident, and the case was closed by others higher up the chain of command. It was, they said, an open-and-shut case, obviously murder-suicide. There were no witnesses, no other suspects, and with no likely convictions forthcoming there was nothing more that could be done. Chicago’s homicide department had far more complicated and puzzling cases to solve, and quite frankly, who needed the paperwork? Lieberwits was, reluctantly, re-assigned, where, he was told, his talents would be of much greater use.
Lieberwits never gave up on the case, though. The spots of blood on the carpet he had seen and the question of motive made a puzzle he was determined to crack. Today, Lieberwits throws all his spare time and energy into solving the riddle of the shootings at the IZP. At the moment he has some interesting leads…
THE END
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