Invasion

  Cassy let out a sigh of exasperation. “Well, you’re not, and I’m not the only person who’s noticed it. So has your friend Pitt.”

  “Pitt?” Beau questioned. “Well, now that you mention it, he did say something about me doing some unexpected things.”

  “Exactly,” Cassy said. “That’s just what I’m talking about. Listen! I want you to see somebody professional. In fact we’ll both go. How’s that?” Cassy let out another short sarcastic laugh. “Hell, maybe it’s me.”

  “Okay,” Beau said agreeably.

  “You’ll see someone?” Cassy said. She’d expected an argument.

  “If it will make you feel better, I’ll see someone,” Beau said. “But of course it will have to wait until I get back from meeting with the Nite people, and I don’t know exactly when that will be.”

  “I thought you’d just be going for the day,” Cassy said.

  “It will be longer than that,” Beau said. “But exactly how long I won’t know until I get there.”

  10

  9:50 A.M.

  NANCY SELLERS WORKED AT HOME AS MUCH AS SHE COULD. With her computer networked into the mainframe at Serotec Pharmaceuticals and with a superb group of technicians in her lab, she got more work done at home than in her office. The main reason was that the physical separation shielded her from the myriad administrative headaches involved in running a large research lab. The second reason was the tranquility of the silent house fostered her creativity.

  Accustomed to absolute silence, the sound of the front door banging closed at ten minutes before ten got Nancy’s attention immediately. Pessimistically thinking it could only be bad news, she exited from the program she was working on, and walked out of her home office.

  She stopped at the balustrade in the hall and looked down into the front hall. Jonathan came into her line of sight.

  “Why aren’t you at school?” Nancy called down. Already she’d made a mental assessment of his health. He seemed to be walking okay, and his color was good.

  Jonathan stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked up. “We need to talk with you.”

  “What do you mean, we?” Nancy asked. But no sooner had the question left her lips than she saw a young woman come up behind her son and tilt her head back.

  “This is Candee Taylor, Mom,” Jonathan said.

  Nancy’s mouth went dry. What she saw was a pixielike face on top of a well-developed female body. Her first thought was that she was pregnant. Being the mother of a teenager was like a high-wire act: disaster was always lurking around the corner.

  “I’ll be right down,” Nancy said. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  Nancy made a quick detour into the bathroom, more to get her emotions in check than to attend to her appearance. She’d been worried about Jonathan getting into this kind of a problem for the last year as his interest in girls skyrocketed, and he’d become uncommunicative and secretive.

  When Nancy thought she was prepared, she met the kids in the kitchen. They had helped themselves to coffee that she kept on the stove. Nancy poured herself a cup and sat on one of the bar stools along the central island. The kids were sitting in the banquette.

  “Okay,” Nancy said, prepared for the worst. “Shoot.”

  Jonathan spoke first since Candee was obviously nervous. He described how Candee’s parents were acting out of character. He said that he’d gone over there yesterday afternoon and had witnessed it himself.

  “This is what you wanted to talk to me about?” Nancy asked. “About Candee’s parents.”

  “Yes,” Jonathan said. “You see, Candee’s mom works at Serotec Pharmaceuticals in the accounting department.”

  “That must be Joy Taylor,” Nancy said. She tried to keep the relief she felt out of her voice. “I’ve talked with her many times.”

  “That’s what we thought,” Jonathan said. “We were hoping you might be willing to talk with her because Candee is really worried.”

  “How is Mrs. Taylor acting that’s so strange?” Nancy asked.

  “It’s both my mother and my father,” Candee said.

  “I can tell you from my perspective,” Jonathan said. “Up until yesterday they didn’t want me around. No way. Then yesterday they were so friendly I couldn’t believe it. They even invited me to stay overnight.”

  “Why would they think you’d want to stay overnight?” Nancy asked.

  Jonathan and Candee exchanged glances. Both blushed.

  “You mean they were suggesting you two sleep together?” she asked.

  “Well, they didn’t say that exactly,” Jonathan said. “But we kinda got that idea.”

  “I’ll be happy to say something,” Nancy said, and she meant it. She was appalled.

  “It’s not only the way they are acting,” Candee said. “It’s like they are different people. A few days ago they had like zero friends. Now all the sudden they’re having people over…at all hours of the day and night to talk about the rain forests and pollution and things like that. People I swear they’ve never even met before who wander around the house. I’ve got to lock my bedroom door.”

  Nancy put her coffee cup down. She felt embarrassed about her initial suspicions. She looked at Candee, and instead of a seductress, she saw a frightened child. The image twanged the cords of her maternal instincts.

  “I’ll be happy to talk with your mother,” Nancy repeated. “And you’re welcome to stay here if you’d like in our guest room. But I’ll be straight with you two. No fooling around, and I think you know what I mean.”

  “WHAT WILL IT BE?” MARJORIE STEPHANOPOLIS ASKED. Both Cassy and Pitt noticed her radiant smile. “Beautiful day, wouldn’t you say.”

  Cassy and Pitt exchanged glances of amazement. This was the first time Marjorie had ever tried to have a conversation with them. They were in one of the booths at Costa’s Diner for lunch.

  “I’ll have a hamburger, fries, and a Coke,” Cassy said.

  “Me too,” Pitt said.

  Marjorie collected the menus. “I’ll have your orders out as soon as I can,” she said. “I hope you enjoy your lunch.”

  “At least someone is enjoying the day,” Pitt said as he watched Marjorie disappear back into the kitchen. “In the three and a half years I’ve been coming here, that’s the most I’ve ever heard her say.”

  “You never eat hamburgers and fries,” Cassy said.

  “Nor do you,” Pitt reminded her.

  “It was the first thing that came to my mind,” Cassy said. “I’m just so weirded out. And I’m telling you the truth about last night. I wasn’t hallucinating.”

  “But you told me yourself you wondered if you were awake or were dreaming,” Pitt reminded her.

  “I convinced myself I was awake,” Cassy said angrily.

  “All right, calm down,” Pitt said. He glanced around. Several people in the diner were glaring at them.

  Cassy leaned across the table and whispered: “When they all looked up at me, including the dog, their eyes were glowing.”

  “Aw, Cassy, come on,” Pitt said.

  “I’m telling you the truth!” she snapped.

  Pitt hazarded another look around the room. Even more people were eyeing them now. Clearly Cassy’s voice was disturbing people.

  “Keep your voice down!” Pitt whispered forcibly.

  “Okay,” Cassy said. She too could appreciate the stares they were getting.

  “When I asked Beau what he was out there talking about at three o’clock in the morning, he told me, ‘The environment,’” Cassy said.

  “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry,” Pitt said. “Do you think he was trying to be funny?”

  “No, not at all,” Cassy said with conviction.

  “But the idea of meeting out in the parking lot in the middle of the night to talk about the environment is absurd.”

  “So is the fact that their eyes were glowing,” Cassy said. “But you haven’t told me what Beau said when you spoke with him yesterday
.”

  “I didn’t get a chance,” Pitt said. He then told Cassy everything that happened at the game and after it. Cassy listened with great interest, especially the part about Beau meeting the well-dressed business types on the athletic field.

  “Do you have any idea what they were talking about?” Cassy asked.

  “Not a clue,” Pitt said.

  “Could they have been from Cipher Software?” Cassy asked. She kept hoping for a reasonable explanation for everything that had been happening.

  “I don’t know,” Pitt said. “Why would you ask that?” Before Cassy could answer, Pitt noticed Marjorie standing off to the side holding two Cokes. The moment he saw her she came over and placed the drinks on the table.

  “Your food will be right out,” she said cheerfully.

  After Marjorie had again disappeared Pitt said: “I must be getting paranoid. I could have sworn she was standing there listening to us.”

  “Why would she do that?” Cassy asked.

  “Beats me,” Pitt said. “Tell me, did Beau go to his classes today?”

  “No, he’s flown off to Cipher Software,” Cassy said. “That’s why I asked you about them. He said he’d heard from them yesterday. I assumed they phoned but maybe they came in person. At any rate he’s off for an interview.”

  “When will he be back?”

  “He didn’t know.”

  “Well, maybe that’s good,” Pitt said. “Maybe by the time he gets back he’ll be back to normal.”

  Marjorie reappeared carrying the food. With a flourish she placed their orders before them and even gave their dishes a little spin to orient them perfectly as if Costa’s were a fine restaurant.

  “Enjoy!” Marjorie said happily before disappearing back into the kitchen.

  “It’s not just Beau who’s been acting differently,” Cassy said. “It’s Ed Partridge and his wife, and I’ve heard of others. I think whatever it is, it’s spreading. In fact I think it has something to do with the flu that’s been going around.”

  “Amen!” Pitt said. “I have the same feeling. In fact I said as much yesterday to the head of the emergency room.”

  “And what was the reaction?” Cassy asked.

  “Better than I anticipated,” Pitt said. “The head of the ER is a rather hard-nosed no-nonsense woman by the name of Dr. Sheila Miller, yet she was willing to listen to me, and even took me over to talk with the president of the hospital.”

  “What was his response?” Cassy asked.

  “He wasn’t impressed,” Pitt said. “But the man had the flu symptoms while we were talking with him.”

  “Is something wrong with your food?” Marjorie asked. She’d reappeared at the tableside.

  “It’s fine,” Cassy said with exasperation at the interruption.

  “But you haven’t touched it,” Marjorie said. “If there is a problem I can get you something else.”

  “We’re okay!” Pitt snapped.

  “Well, just call if you need me.” She hurried off.

  “She’s going to drive me bananas,” Cassy said. “I think I preferred her sullen.”

  All at once the same idea occurred to Cassy and Pitt.

  “Oh my God!” Cassy said. “Do you think she’s had the flu?”

  “I wonder!” Pitt said with equal concern. “Obviously she’s acting very out of character.”

  “We’ve got to do something,” Cassy said. “Who should we go to? Do you have any ideas?”

  “Not really,” Pitt said. “Except maybe go back to Dr. Miller. She was at least receptive. I’d like to tell her there are other people with personality changes. I’d only mentioned Beau.”

  “Would you mind if I came along?” Cassy asked.

  “Not at all,” Pitt said. “In fact I’d prefer it. But let’s do it right away.”

  “I’m game,” Cassy said.

  Pitt vainly scanned the room for Marjorie to get the check. When he didn’t see her, he sighed with exasperation. It was frustrating that after pestering them for the whole meal, the moment he wanted her, she was nowhere to be seen.

  “Marjorie is behind you,” Cassy said. She pointed over Pitt’s shoulder. “She’s at the cash register having an animated chat with Costa.”

  Pitt twisted in his seat. The moment he did so, Marjorie and Costa both turned their heads in his direction and locked their eyes on his. There was an intensity in their gaze that gave Pitt a chill.

  Pitt swung around to face Cassy. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said. “I must be getting paranoid again. I don’t know why I’m so sure about this, but Marjorie and Costa were talking about us.”

  BEAU HAD NEVER BEEN TO SANTA FE BEFORE, BUT HE’D heard good things about it and had been looking forward to his visit. He wasn’t disappointed: he liked the town immediately.

  He had arrived on schedule at the modest airport and had been picked up by a stretch Jeep Cherokee! Beau had never seen such a vehicle before, and at first he’d thought it was comical. But after riding in it, he was willing to believe it might be superior to a normal limousine because of its height. Of course he had to admit to himself that he hadn’t had much experience with limousines of any sort.

  As attractive as Beau found Santa Fe in general, it was only a harbinger of the beauty of the grounds of Cipher Software. After they had passed through a security gate Beau thought the facility had more of a resemblance to a posh resort than to a business establishment. Lush, rolling green lawns stretched between widely dispersed, well proportioned, modern buildings. Dense conifer forests and reflecting pools completed the picture.

  Beau was dropped off at the central facility which, like the other buildings, was constructed of granite and gold-tinted glass. Several people who Beau had already met greeted him and told him that Mr. Randy Nite was waiting for him in his office.

  As Beau and his escorts rose up in a glass-enclosed elevator through a plant-filled atrium, Beau was asked whether he was hungry or thirsty. Beau told them that he was fine.

  Randy Nite’s office was huge, occupying most of the west wing of the third and top floor of the building. About fifty feet square, it was bounded on three sides with floor-to-ceiling glass. Randy’s desk stood in the center of this expansive space. It was made of a four-inch-thick slab of black and gold marble.

  Randy was on the phone when Beau was ushered in, but he stood up immediately and waved Beau over to take a starkly modern black leather chair. He motioned to Beau that he’d be just a few minutes longer. Their job done, the escorts silently withdrew.

  Beau had seen photos of Randy innumerable times as well as having seen him on TV. In person he appeared just as young and boyish, with a shock of red hair and a crop of pleasing freckles sprinkled across a wide, healthy-looking face. His gray-green eyes had a hint of merriment. He was about Beau’s height but not as muscular although he appeared fit.

  “The new software will be shipping next month,” Randy was saying, “and the advertising blitz is poised to begin next week. It’s a dynamite campaign. Things couldn’t look any better. It’s going to take the world by storm. Trust me!”

  Randy hung up and smiled broadly. He was dressed casually in a blue blazer, acid-washed jeans, and tennis shoes. It was no accident that Beau was dressed in a similar fashion.

  “Welcome,” Randy said. He extended his hand, and Beau shook it. “I must say that my team has never recommended someone as highly as they have recommended you. Over the last forty-eight hours I’ve heard nonstop praise. It intrigues me. How has a college senior been able to manage such successful PR?”

  “I suppose it’s a combination of luck, interest, and old-fashioned hard work,” Beau said.

  Randy smiled. “Well put,” he said. “I’ve also heard you’d like to start out, not in the mail room, but as my personal assistant.”

  “Everybody has to start someplace,” Beau said.

  Randy laughed heartily. “I like that,” he said. “Confidence and a sense of humor. Kinda reminds me of mysel
f when I started. Come on! Let me show you around.”

  “THE EMERGENCY ROOM LOOKS CROWDED,” CASSY SAID.

  “I’ve never seen it like this,” Pitt said.

  They were walking across the parking lot toward the ER dock. Several ambulances were there with their lights blinking. Cars were parked haphazardly, and the hospital security was trying to straighten things out. The dock itself was full of people overflowing from the waiting room.

  Climbing the stairs Pitt and Cassy had to literally push their way through to the main desk. Pitt saw Cheryl Watkins and called out to her: “What on earth is going on?”

  “We’ve been inundated with the flu,” Cheryl said. She sneezed herself, then coughed. “Unfortunately the staff hasn’t been immune.”

  “Is Dr. Miller here?” Pitt asked.

  “She’s working along with everyone else,” Cheryl said.

  “Hang here,” Pitt told Cassy. “I’ll see if I can find her.”

  “Try to be quick,” Cassy said. “I’ve never liked hospitals.”

  Pitt got himself a white coat and pinned his hospital ID to the breast pocket. Then he started searching through the bays. He found Dr. Miller with an elderly woman who wanted to be admitted to the hospital. The woman was in a wheelchair ready to go home.

  “I’m sorry,” Dr. Miller said. She finished writing on the ER sheet and slipped its clipboard into a pocket in the back of the wheel chair. “Your flu symptoms don’t warrant an admission. All you need is bed rest, analgesic, and fluids. Your husband will be in here in a moment to take you home.”

  “But I don’t want to go home,” the woman complained. “I want to stay in the hospital. My husband frightens me. He’s not the same. He’s someone else.”

  At that moment the husband appeared. He’d been brought back to retrieve his wife by one of the orderlies. Although as elderly as his wife, he appeared far more spry and mentally alert.

  “No, no, please,” the woman moaned when she saw him. She tried to grasp Dr. Miller’s sleeve as the husband quickly rolled her out of the bay and toward the exit. “Calm down, dear,” the man was saying soothingly. “You don’t want to be a bother to these good doctors.”