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Alien Nation #4 - The Change Page 15
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The woman nodded, her eyes glistening. “Yes.”
“Drop the gun.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.” She raised her arm, aimed her revolver at George, and fired at the same time George leaped back through the door. He dove for the floor as two rounds in quick succession chewed into the frame of the already shattered hall mirror. Rolling to his side, George saw that Ruma Kavit was on the front steps, the gun aiming at his face. Buck raised a hand and tried to get up.
“Stay down!” George bellowed as he rolled to the opposite side, a slug splintering the floor next to his head. As he rolled past the skillet, he grabbed it and held it in front of his face. Ruma fired a fourth time, and the lead striking the frying pan made a hellishly loud bonging sound. George heard a clicking sound, and he looked from behind the skillet.
She was standing there, her face in tears, her gun aimed at George, and she was pulling the trigger again and again, the hammer falling on spent shells. She swooned against the door, and George got up and caught her before she fell to the concrete. Picking her up in his arms, he turned and stepped into the house. Buck, his back up against the closet door, nodded at the frying pan still in George’s left hand.
“Boy, Dad, I bet Emily’s going to catch it for not putting away the skillet.”
George looked dumbly at the pan, then up at Cathy. She was standing at the end of the short hall, a plastic bag full of ice cubes in her hands, staring at George. “Who is she? What happened?”
George looked down into Ruma Kavit’s tortured face. “One of Maanka’s victims; still alive.” He looked from Cathy to Buck and Matt as he felt his knees buckle and the universe began melting, revealing the living hearts of stars.
“Let’s get to Mount Andarko emergency. Cathy, you better drive.”
Every part, every aspect, every direction, every mood had its twist, mark, and color. On the drive to the Tenctonese hospital, George witnessed and reacted to the entire range of everything his hallucinations had to offer. There were colors that he heard, sounds that he saw. Tastes had touches and touches had tastes. Everything in the universe had an odor, and each odor filled his nervous system with numbing electric shocks. Matt’s head was on his lap, each of his eyes a tiny mouth crying, gasping for air.
“It’ll be okay, partner. It’ll be okay.”
C H A P T E R 1 9
THE MORNING LIGHT came through the window gray and dirty. Some part of George’s awareness noted the light, the fact of morning. The barely audible beep of Matt’s vital signs monitor showed his partner’s heart barely beating. His respirations were down to six a minute and his temperature was down in the forties. None of the red danger lights were flashing. All but Matt’s face was submerged in a refrigerated bath that was cold enough to make steam in the warm room. In another room, in an identical bath, Ruma Kavit’s monitors showed her equally suspended between death and the activation temperature of the controller implanted in her brain.
Because of Dr. Rivers’s experience with the implants, George had asked him to assist Cathy and the emergency room staff. Shortly after two in the morning the X rays showed the astonishing differences between the crude version of the implant in Ruma’s brain and the almost microscopic sophistication of Matt’s implant.
“That’s a Niyezian implant,” Cathy had said as she examined the negative. “Nothing at China Lake could produce something that delicate.”
Dr. Rivers from the morgue had nodded, paused, and then slowly shook his head. “Where would he get a Niyezian implant, and where would he get the instrument to do the operation?”
“From the ship?” George had asked. “From the wreck of the ship?”
Cathy had thought for a moment. “Everything from the ship was emptied or cut out and sent to I don’t know how many different government military and scientific facilities. Even the pieces of the ship itself are stored in a Smithsonian warehouse somewhere in Virginia.”
“Virginia,” George muttered now to his unconscious partner. There was something else. Something that Muddy Rivers had said.
The doctor had frowned and folded his arms across his chest. “What I can’t get out of my head is how vehemently opposed that FBI agent was to you and Sikes attending the Rand autopsy. Why do you suppose that was?”
“Why?” George repeated to himself as his gaze moved up to Matt’s vital signs monitor. Things seemed to connect for him, knots seemed to unravel.
What Maanka had placed deep within Matt’s brain was something that a federal prisoner had no way of obtaining. “Unless,” George said to the silence. He focused on a point in space and bore down on the thought. “Unless.”
All of the records on Dak had been wiped. There was, however, that sheet of paper in Maanka’s case file. Thank the powers of the universe that Matt Sikes hated computers and still relied upon scraps of scribbled paper in manila folders. Maanka Dak simply could not have gotten his hands on those controllers, “Unless,” George repeated.
He looked around the room and found a wall phone next to the door. Taking his notebook from his pocket, he stood, walked to the phone, and dialed the number for the station’s maintenance department. After five rings a voice answered, “Maintenance. This is Albert speaking.”
“Albert, this is George.”
“You’re all right?” Relief flooded Albert’s voice. “I was so worried, and no one’d tell me anything. All they’ll tell me is to stay out of sight, don’t stick my nose out of the station, and empty the wastebaskets. What about Susan and the children? What about Matt? What about that officer from University Division?”
“Ruma Kavit. She’s critical. Matt too. Everyone else’s as good as can be expected right now. Albert, I want you to do me a favor.”
“Sure, George. Anything. What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to go upstairs, get Captain Grazer, and have him come to the phone.”
A puzzled silence filled the moment. “Why don’t you call him yourself, George? Captain Grazer’s surrounded by phones up there.”
“I don’t have time to explain, Albert. There’s something wrong with the captain’s phones. Have him go down in the basement and use the phone you’re holding in your hand right now. Tell him to bring the Maanka Dak case file from my desk. Got that?”
“It’s not like the captain ever listens to me. I just sweep up around here. What if I can’t get him to come, George? What if he just tells me to scram?”
“Threaten him, damn it! I don’t care! Just get him to the phone and don’t forget the file! Hurry!”
As he heard Albert running up the stairs, George felt ashamed at having yelled at his friend and binnaum, the being who completed the triad necessary to the conceptions of George’s two daughters. The threat of Maanka Dak seemed to be staining everything in the universe with hate, anger, and suspicion. Dak left little remaining for love, compassion, understanding, or courtesy.
In a few moments there were the sounds of heavy footsteps and Captain Grazer’s loud cursing. “What?” he bellowed into the phone. “Francisco? What in the hell is going on? Why did you have Albert pull a gun on me?”
“A gun?”
“A goddamned shotgun! He stole the damned thing from the arms room! He’s got the muzzle stuck in my back right now!”
“Put Albert on, Cap.”
There were a few words as Albert came on the line. “Yes, George?”
“Thanks Albert. You did great.”
“Gosh, George. I was glad to do it.”
“You can give the gun back to whoever you got it from, Albert, and I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
“That’s okay, George.”
“Put the captain back on and don’t forget to put the safety on the shotgun, okay?”
“I didn’t load the gun, George. I don’t know how.”
“That’s okay, Albert. Thanks again. Put the captain on.
Grazer’s gruff voice returned. “Thanks for calling off your artillery, Francisco. So what’s so godd
amned urgent, and why am I standing here in the middle of mop city talking to you about it?”
“Maanka Dak is tapped into the command center network. More than that, his computer setup controls it. I’m not certain, but I have pretty good evidence that Maanka also does pretty good impressions of you, Lieutenant Bradley, and Lieutenant Yamato.”
“What’re you talking about? The command center lines’re secure. Christ, we certainly paid enough for the computer setup and the daily leak sweeps.”
George felt, growing within him, a grudging admiration for Maanka Dak’s daring. What could Maanka have achieved had his aim not been crippled by hate? “Captain, I think you’ll find that at least one of the electronic sweeps for system leaks was done by either Maanka Dak or Sing Fangan. In fact, considering when the Dak task force set up its command center, Maanka Dak himself could have installed the computer communications.”
“That’s impossible. Everyone who’s ever come near the center is security cleared up the wazoo.”
“Captain Grazer, all Maanka Dak needed to do was enter the LAPD computer and create a couple of phony files keyed to whatever name he used. We already know he entered the police computer and wiped his own files.”
“I don’t know, Francisco. We’re using the most advanced computer technology in the world. Ultra secure. I don’t see how a damned convict-—”
“That’s his legal, and perhaps social, status, Captain. It has nothing to do with his mental capabilities. Let me ask you something. Were you the one who canceled the police security on my house last night?”
“Canceled? What are you talking about? I’ve been getting regular reports from Lieutenant Blackwell’s crew covering your place, and from Sergeant Lupo covering the motel where we stashed Sikes and his girlfriend.” There was a brief, puzzled pause, then the captain’s voice came back on the line. “How in the hell did you call the maintenance number without the call going through the command center?”
“I’m calling from Mount Andarko.”
“The Newcomer hospital? What’s wrong? How come nobody flagged the command center about you moving from your home?”
“As I said, Captain, Maanka Dak controls the command center. All security was pulled off my home hours ago. Check it out, but don’t use any lines controlled by the command center. I’m here at the hospital with Cathy Frankel. We took my son, Matt Sikes, and Ruma Kavit here. We need some security here and fast.”
“Ruma Kavit? You mean the missing probie?”
“Yes. I’ll fill you in on what happened, at least as much as I know, when I see you again. Right now we need some handpicked security over here.”
“I’ll get right on it. What happened?”
“Buck was grazed when Matt Sikes tried to shoot me. Matt’s been implanted, Captain. I think his best chance is here where some of the staff has had some experience with the neural controllers.”
Grazer’s voice was silent for a long time. When it came back, it was trembling. “I think it’s just getting through to me what this Maanka Dak’s done—what he can do. Jesus, I got to shut down that entire command center. We’re running the entire search and investigation out of there.”
“That might be a mistake, cap. Don’t shut it down. Keep running it business as usual. If Maanka doesn’t know we’re on to him, it might give us some kind of an edge. Maybe it’ll keep him busy putting on a show for you while we sneak up on him.”
“It sounds like you’re taking that shuttle to Fantasyland.”
“Maybe. If I had better suggestions, Cap, I’d let you have them.”
Grazer let the air sigh from his lungs, and Francisco could hear the cellophane wrapper coming off another cigar. “Okay. We can keep the show going for a while. How’s your boy?”
“He’ll be all right. Matt and Ruma Kavit are the ones with problems. Kavit’s been implanted, but the doctors here think that it can be removed from her brain without a lot of damage. After all, the technology was designed for Tenctonese neural systems. However, she’s also been wounded twice. She was raped too.”
“Raped?”
“Does that surprise you?”
“Surprise me?” The sound of Grazer spitting out his cigar came through the phone. “No, it doesn’t surprise me. Nothing in this goddamned city surprises me anymore. I’ll send a cop shrink over there along with the officers for when Kavit comes out of it. I’m going to have to set up another command center. Hell, it’s going to take hours. All of the officers in the task force have been sent home, right?”
“Most likely.”
“Damn. All their phones are routed through the command center, and we can’t risk sending black-and-whites after them by radio. I’ll have to send out cars from the station and drive to each house. Jesus, what a mess.”
“Captain, do you have the case file on Dak with you?”
“Yeah. Machine Gun Albert there had me pick it up when he stuck that shotgun in my back. What am I looking for?”
“There was a copy of a letter in there. It was from a Dr. Norcross addressed to Maanka Dak’s next parole hearing.”
“Yeah. It’s right here. Carrie Norcross, chief of neurosurgery at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center.”
“Walter Reed?”
“That’s right, George. The army medical center in Washington D of C. We’ve grilled some of the prisoners at China Lake, and we’ve heard everything from this Norcross having the hots for Maanka Dak to wanting to spring him so she could take him into her private practice, making big bucks through benevolent mind control. Why?”
“Cap, I want you to find out everything you can about Dr. Norcross, the official stuff, but particularly the nonofficial stuff. I want to know everything she’s done with Dak, with the Bureau of Prisons, and any and everything else.”
“What’s the drift?”
“I’m not certain. Right now Matt has something stuck in his brain that cannot be stuck in his brain unless at some point Maanka Dak had a direct pipeline to some very powerful people who have broken some rather important laws. Also, I’m guessing that this Carrie Norcross is the only one who can get her hands on an instrument vital to saving Matt’s life, if it can be saved at all.”
The door to the room opened quietly and Buck peered in. The right side of his head was bandaged and his right eye was swollen shut. “Dad?”
“One moment, son.” George frowned and turned back to the phone. “Cap, later on I’ll come in, tie in with the new command center, and get the information you gather on Norcross. About setting up the command center, Cap . . .”
“What about it?”
“Set up a portable X ray, and don’t let anyone into the command center until they’ve had their heads cleared. I’ll have Cathy bring over a couple of X rays to show you what to look for.”
“That’s a pretty good shot of radiation just to get in to work. We’re going to get a few objections to that.”
“Let them object. Send them home for the day. The alternative is putting Maanka Dak on the payroll.”
After hanging up the phone, George went over to Matt’s side and looked down at his partner. Buck entered the room and stood at his father’s side. “Will Matt be all right?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t look good at all. How come you aren’t in bed? I thought the doctor wanted to keep you overnight for observation.”
“I have a headache, Dad, but otherwise I’m fine. Just about the last thing I want to do right now is lie around in bed.”
“Buck, you need rest. And the doctor wants—”
“Dad, what’s easier to shoot: a moving target or a sitting duck? I don’t figure I’m going to get much rest here with my family on the run and this Maanka Dak waiting for me to stay still so he can get a bead on me.”
George glanced at his son, nodded, and placed his hand on Buck’s shoulder. “I get your point. You can’t go home, though.”
“Dad, what’re you going to do? You can’t go to work. I can’t go to the university. Are they going t
o stash us with Mom and the girls?”
“I don’t know, Buck. If you were Maanka Dak, what would you be waiting for us to do?”
Buck thought for a second, then met his father’s gaze. “If vikah ta was the only thing on my mind, I’d be waiting for us to lead the way to the rest of the family.”
“Then maybe it’s time for us to begin being unpredictable.”
“How are we going to do that?”
“To begin, I think instead of having Cathy bring over those X rays, I’ll take them myself and help Captain Grazer find out about this Carrie Norcross.”
“The doctor who was working with Dak?”
“Yes. Too many things are pointing to a federal connection to this mess, and we need to know what it is.” He placed a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “First, though, how about some breakfast?”
“Okay. Then we go to the new command center?”
George shook his head and opened the door for Buck. “No. After we eat, we’re going to visit the Rama Vo. I’ve been putting off who I am and where I am in life for far too long.”
C H A P T E R 2 0
“THIS IS A disaster,” Collins muttered. The representative of the Bureau of Prisons wiped a hand over his balding head and stared glumly at the center of the small steel conference table.
“SNAFUBAR,” Rittenhouse agreed glumly. He was an older suit from the National Security Agency. “I figure our only hope is to give the story to the tabloids so no one will believe it once it breaks.” No one even forced a polite chuckle at the joke. It was too close to the kinds of answers they had been considering deep within the administrative walls of the China Lake facility.
Lipscomb sucked at a tooth, shook his head and said, “If you and Iniko had controlled this thing at the autopsy—”
“How?” Collins demanded. “Were we supposed to throw out those two showboat pathologists? Or that Greek chorus from Hollenbeck Division? Hell, Ritt makes sense. Let’s call the National Turd Flinger and tell all.”