"Come over here, Mr. Maxwell." The Visitor's hand was on Robert's arm, pulling him a few paces away from the sentry. His voice was low, conspiratorial. "I understand your an guish. Your daughter's position has placed you in a terrible dilemma ..
"Suppose," the leader said, still in that quiet, gentle tone, "that I could guarantee that the mountain camp would not be taken until a certain time, so that you could get your wife and daughters out beforehand. What would you say to that?"
"After the camp is no longer a problem, then I could slip her aboard my vehicle and bring her back. Turn her loose, with your message as to how to contact you. She's only a young girl. Nobody will look for her."
Maxwell closed his eyes, thinking of Donovan's words. Thinking of Robin's smooth, pretty skin ... thinking of small blowtorches. "Yes. Yes, I understand. I won't warn them-" There are only a few still up there, he thought. Just a couple left ... and fewer still tomorrow, because of the attack on the armory. Maybe only one or two ... "But they're my friends. Can your people take the camp without-without-"
"Yes," said the squad leader forcefully, his hands gripping Robert's shoulders. "It can be done quite easily, with no harm to anybody. And we won't get there until ... what? Four o'clock tomorrow afternoon? Does that give you enough time?"
Maxwell looked at the hand for a long moment, then slowly put his own into the other's cool, firm grasp. They shook, then the Visitor said, more loudly, "All right then, but don't let me catch you violating curfew again. Do your drinking at home from now on!"
He gave Maxwell a rough shove back toward the street. "Hurry up-and remember what I said!" "I'll remember," said Robert fervently. "Thanks, Officer!"
Clinging to his numbed exhaustion as a shield against thought, he kept walking, faster ... faster. Within a street or two, reaction set in and he ran, mindlessly, scurrying through the empty streets like a frightened animal.
Martin took a deep breath. "I'm not sure. I left him in a holding cell, and later sent Barbara to bring him to me so I could begin preliminary injections. When I realized she was late, I went to the cell to see what had happened. Barbara was unconscious, victim of a short-range stun. Her gun and uniform were gone."
"Shit!" Diana said explosively. Martin wondered fleetingly where she'd learned the obscenity. She stalked back and forth along the wall of her private office/lab, sending the lab animals into a flurry of hysterical motion each time she approached. Martin waited, tensely, for her fury to abate.
"All right." Calm once more, she turned back to him. "We have to assume the worst-that he's escaped aboard one of the shuttles. Alert all units to report any unauthorized crewmembers. We're going to have to institute some kind of security clearance procedure for all incoming personnel. I'll have to consider what would be most efficient."
He was almost afraid to turn-afraid that, even with his contacts covering his eyes, she'd discern his fear-but he forced himself to look back at her, showing merely a junior's deference to a superior officer. "Yes, Diana?"
"Send Brian to me." "At once, Diana." He left the room fighting the urge to run.
Her long red lounging robe shimmered around her as she turned to eye him speculatively. "It's come to my attention that you have developed -a relationship of sorts with this young lady." She pressed a button, and a screen on the wall awakened to show a girl crouched in one of the holding cells, makeup and tears streaking her rounded young face.
"Not this one." Diana looked at the girl's image reflectively for a long moment. Robin sat quietly, only raising her hand now and then to wipe at the tears which continued to well and drip down her cheeks. "So, you do know her?"
"Well ... Yes, I know her," stammered Brian, wondering if Diana had somehow been told about the times he'd taken a little time off and gone to the video arcade with the girl-but he'd only done it a few times, and mostly to case the place for potential Visitor Friends recruits.
She smiled, pleased. "Ah. I see now how you've managed to rise through the ranks so quickly." "I'm quite serious," Brian said, moving closer to her, his eyes holding hers. "That's very interesting," Diana conceded. "Because I've had my eye on you for quite some time."
Brian smiled at her. "Of course I'm at your service." His eyes traveled down the length of the red robe, his mind filled with images of Diana in her true form-no wonder even the Leader had found her irresistible. "In any way you require service ..."
She smiled, showing her false human teeth. "Oh, I'm sure you can manage. My reports indicate you're very ... flexible. And the girl has been very sheltered, with little basis for comparison." She nodded. "Will you help me?"
"We'll have to spend a little time in the science lab first. While I work, I'll brief you on your role. I can't promise complete freedom from discomfort, but most of the action will take place on an intercellular level. And the actual experiment could even prove ... pleasurable."
ROBIN MAXWELL CROUCHED ON THE STRANGE, SHELFLIKE BUNK, sniffling, wishing she had a tissue. It had been hours since she'd been brought aboard the Mother Ship. She was beginning to feel hungry and thirsty.
When she'd first been brought aboard, she'd been handed over to a Visitor woman who had taken her to a strange, laboratory-looking place, then told the girl to remove her clothing. When Robin had indignantly refused, she'd drawn her sidearm and, still smiling politely, had suggested she think again. Robin had taken off her clothes.
Then the woman had made her lie on some kind of couch and passed an alien instrument slowly over her entire body, then a different one over her midsection. It hadn't hurt, but Robin had felt humiliated. The woman wouldn't answer her questions-had only finished whatever it was she was doing, returned the girl's clothing, then, when she was again dressed, gave her a sandwich and a carton of milkafterward taking her to a remarkably normal-looking bathroom. Since then, she'd been locked here, in this horrible cell.
The tears started again. Robin shivered as she slumped backward and her spine touched the cold metal of the bulkhead. She buried her face in her arms, wondering if she'd ever see her father and mother again. She was only a kid. What could they possibly want with her?
A sound came from the door-a soft hiss. Crouching, she trembled, then, moved by the thought that she'd rather face whatever was coming standing up, she climbed to her feet, hugging herself protectively.
Even as she reached him he stepped forward, andwonder of wonders-put his arms around her, tenderly, protectively. "Robin ... just take it easy. You're okay. You're safe now. I won't let anyone hurt you."
"I'm here now. I'll protect you. I'll get you out of here." He gathered her even closer, and she felt the cool hardness of his muscled body. Tentatively, Robin slipped her arms around him in return, her mind whirling chaotically. Her knees felt rubbery, and she leaned against him. He supported her weight without effort, and his hand came up to caress her thick, tumbled hair. "Robin ... I missed you."
"Brian . . ." She touched his cheek hesitantly, hoping her eyes weren't red and that her makeup hadn't run-she still couldn't believe he was here, holding her. It was like a wonderful dream, the kind that she woke from at night, her heart beating so hard it seemed it would break out of her body, and then she sobbed to realize it was just a dream-that he-the wonderful, godlike he who lived only in dreams-was gone.
He did. His mouth touched Robin's, brushing quickly, ex- ploringly, then returning to press harder. She closed her eyes, feeling faint, her hands clutching at him frenziedly. Brian, I love you, she thought, feeling his hand touch her breast, at first hesitantly, then returning to cup it firmly. He slid his hand beneath her sweater.
Her eyes closed and she swayed dizzily. She was scarcely aware when he lowered her to the bunk. She had one more sharp, insistent return to clarity when she realized her jeans were open, but by then his weight was holding her down. He was heavy; she couldn't get up.
JULIET PARRISH WOKE JUST BEFORE THE WINDUP ALARM CLOCK rang at six o'clock. She rolled over and shut it off quickly, before it could jangle; she'd always hated being jarred awake by alarms. She lay back in her narrow, lumpy cot for a moment, thinking that as soon as she moved, swung her legs out, reached for her jeans, she'd be committed to this day and what it could hold. Please, God, don't let anybody die. Don't let anybody get hurt. Please.
Clad in old jeans and a red sweater, she coiled up her shoulder-length hair, pinning it into a bun. Then, picking up her cane, she limped out into the hall. The first person she saw was Robert Maxwellfrom the haunted look in his brown eyes and the darkness beneath them, Juliet gathered that he'd slept even less than she had. "You okay, Robert?" she asked.
"Yeah," he mumbled, not meeting her eyes.
"Is anything wrong?"
He shook his head. "No ... no. Just nerves, I guess."
"Tell me about it."
"Sleep okay, Elias?" she asked.
"Oh, sure," he said bleakly. "Like a baby-one with the colic."
By now the main hall was filled with people. Juliet turned, addressing them. "Everybody try to eat something, okay? I know you're nervous, but it's going to be a long day. Can't have anyone passing out from hunger in the middle of this."
"That bad, eh?" He watched her dry her face with a ragged old towel. Juliet, conscious of his scrutiny, made an effort to keep her hands steady as she emptied the pan into the sink, but, to her dismay, water slopped onto the floor. Donovan continued as if he hadn't noticed. "I gotta hand it to you, Doc-you've really pulled this bunch together. Juiced 'em up. They're ready to go out and fight tigers this morning."