Invasion

  “Everyone will be a part, at least those who are not harboring some terrible genetic flaw. I just had the honor of being the first, but it was a random event. It could have been you or anyone else.”

  “So, am I talking with Beau now?” Cassy asked. “Or am I talking with the virus’s consciousness through the medium of Beau?”

  “The answer, as I’ve already said, is both,” Beau said patiently. “But the alien consciousness increases with every person changed. The alien consciousness is a composite of all the infected humans just like a human brain is a composite of its individual cells.”

  Beau reached out tentatively to avoid frightening Cassy any more than she already was. Compressing his snakelike fingers into a fist of sorts he stroked her cheek.

  Cassy had to steel herself against the revulsion she felt to allow this creature to caress her.

  “I must make a confession,” Beau said. “At first I tried not to think about you. Initially it was easy because of the work that had to be done. But you kept creeping back into my thoughts and made me comprehend the beguiling power of human emotion. It is a weakness unique in the galaxy.

  “The human in me loves you, Cassy, and I’m excited about the prospect of being able to give you many worlds. I long for you to want to be one of us.”

  “THEY ARE NOT COMING,” SHEILA SAID. “AS PAINFUL AS that reality is, I’m afraid we’re going to have to accept it.” She stood up and stretched. It had been a sleepless night.

  Through the cabin’s windows the early morning sun could be seen bathing the tops of the trees on the western shore of the lake. The surface of the lake was covered with a mist that the rising sun would quickly dissipate.

  “And if that’s reality,” Sheila added, “then we have to get our asses out of here before we have uninvited visitors.”

  Neither Pitt nor Jonathan responded. They were sitting on opposing couches, slouched forward with their chins cradled in their hands and elbows resting on their knees.

  Their expressions were a mixture of exhaustion, disbelief, and grief.

  “Well, we don’t have time to take everything,” Sheila was saying. “But I think we should take all the data and the tissue cultures that we hope are producing some virions.”

  “What about my mom?” Jonathan said. “And Cassy and Jesse? What if they come back here looking for us?”

  “We’ve been over this,” Sheila said. “Let’s not make it more difficult than it already is.”

  “I don’t think we should leave either,” Pitt said. Although he’d given up hope about Cassy, he still thought Nancy and Jesse might appear.

  “Listen, you two,” Sheila said. “Two hours ago you agreed we’d wait until dawn. Now it’s dawn. The longer we wait the more chance there is that we will be caught.”

  “But where will we go?” Pitt asked.

  “I’m afraid we’ll have to play it by ear,” Sheila said. “Come on, let’s start getting things ready.”

  Pitt pushed himself off the couch and stood up. He looked at Sheila, and his expression mirrored his great pain. She softened, stepped over to the couch, and gave him a hug.

  Jonathan got up with sudden resolve and went over to his laptop. Flipping it open he began rapidly typing. After sending his message, he stared blankly at the screen. Within minutes an answer came back.

  “Hey,” he called out to Sheila and Pitt. “I just contacted Dr. M. He’s changed his mind. He’s willing to meet us. What do you say?”

  “I’m naturally skeptical,” Sheila admitted. “The idea of putting our lives into the hands of somebody we only know as Doc M sounds absurd. But then again, he’s been sending us intriguing data.”

  “It’s not as if we have a lot of choices,” Jonathan said.

  “Let me see his latest message,” Pitt said. He moved over to Jonathan and read over his shoulder. Finishing, he glanced up at Sheila. “I think we should take the chance. I can’t imagine he’s not legitimate. Hell, Dr. M has been as scared about us as we’ve been about him.”

  “It’s better than just going out on the road and wandering around,” Jonathan said. “Besides, he’s obviously connected to the Internet. That means we can leave a message here, so if my mom or the others come back they’ll at least be able to contact us.”

  “All right, you two,” Sheila said, relenting. “I suppose it is a compromise. We’ll meet this Dr. M, but it means getting the hell out of here, so let’s get cracking.”

  “CASSY, I KNOW IT IS HARD FOR YOU,” BEAU SAID. “I DON’T look at myself in the mirror any more. But you have to get beyond that.”

  Cassy was leaning on the balustrade, looking out over the halcyon view of the institute’s grounds. The sun had come up and the morning dew was just about gone. Out in the driveway there was a steady single-file stream of infected people who were arriving from around the globe.

  “We are building an amazing environment here,” Beau said. “And it is about to spread around the world. It’s truly a new beginning.”

  “I was partial to our old world,” Cassy said.

  “You can’t mean that,” Beau said. “Not with all the problems there were. Humans had steered the Earth into a collison course with self-destruction, especially over the last half century. And that shouldn’t be, because the Earth is an amazing place. There are innumerable planets in the galaxy but few as warm and wet and as inviting as this one.”

  Cassy closed her eyes. She was exhausted and needed sleep, yet some of the things Beau was saying did make a modicum of sense. She forced herself to try to think. “When did the virus first come to Earth?” she asked.

  “The very first invasion?” Beau asked. “About three billion Earth years ago. It was back when conditions on Earth had reached a point where life was evolving at a fairly rapid clip. An explorer ship released the virions into the primordial seas, and they incorporated into the evolving DNA.”

  “And this is the first time that a probe ship has returned?” Cassy asked.

  “Heavens no,” Beau said. “Every hundred million Earth years or so, a probe would return to reawaken the virus and see what form of life had evolved.”

  “And the virus consciousness didn’t remain?” Cassy asked.

  “The virus itself remained,” Beau said. “But you are right, the consciousness was allowed to lapse. The organisms were always so inconvenient.”

  “When was the last stopover?” Cassy asked.

  “Just about a hundred million Earth years ago,” Beau said. “It was a disastrous visit. The Earth had become completely infested with large, reptilian creatures who preyed on each other cannibalistically.”

  “You mean dinosaurs?” Cassy asked.

  “Yes, I believe that is what you have labeled them,” Beau said. “But whatever the name, it was a totally unacceptable situation for consciousness. So the infestation was terminated. However, genetic adjustments were made so that the reptilians would die out to allow other species to evolve.”

  “Like human beings,” Cassy suggested.

  “Exactly,” Beau said. “These are wonderfully versatile bodies and reasonably sized brains. The downside is the emotions.”

  Cassy let out a short laugh in spite of herself. The concept of an alien culture capable of ranging around the galaxy having trouble with human emotion was preposterous.

  “It’s true,” Beau said. “Primacy of the emotions translates to an exaggerated importance of the individual, which is contrary to the collective good. From my dual perspective it is amazing humans have accomplished as much as they have. In a species in which each individual is striving to maximize his circumstance above and beyond basic needs, war and strife are inevitable. Peace becomes the aberration.”

  “How many other species in the galaxy has the virus taken over?” Cassy asked.

  “Thousands,” Beau said. “Whenever we find a suitable envelope.”

  Cassy continued to stare out into the distance. She didn’t want to look at Beau because his appearance was so disturb
ing that it made it difficult to think, and she wanted to think. She couldn’t help but believe that the more she knew the better chance she had of avoiding infection and staying herself. And she was learning a lot. The longer she’d talked with Beau the less she was hearing the human side and the more she was hearing the alien side.

  “Where do you come from?” Cassy asked suddenly.

  “Where is our home planet?” Beau repeated as if he’d not heard her question. He hesitated, trying to draw upon the collective information available to him. But the answer wasn’t forthcoming. “I guess I don’t know. I don’t even know what our original physical form was. Strange! The question has never come up.”

  “Does it ever occur to the virus that it is somehow wrong to take over an organism that already has a consciousness?” Cassy asked.

  “Not when we are offering something far better,” Beau said.

  “How can you be so sure?” Cassy asked.

  “Simple,” Beau said. “I refer back to your history. Look at what you have done to each other and to this planet during your short reign as the dominant creature.”

  Cassy nodded. Again there was some sense in what she was hearing.

  “Come with me, Cassy,” Beau said. “There is something I want to show you.” Beau went to the door leading to the bedroom and opened it.

  Cassy made herself turn around. She steeled herself against Beau’s appearance, which she found almost as shocking as when she’d first seen him. He was holding the door for her. He gestured and said, “It’s downstairs.”

  They descended the main stairs. In contrast with the tranquility upstairs, the first floor was filled with busy, smiling people. No one paid any attention to Beau and Cassy. He took her to the ballroom, where the level of activity was almost frantic. It was difficult to comprehend how so many people could work together.

  The floor, walls, and ceiling of the enormous room were covered with a maze of wiring. In the middle of the space was a huge structure that appeared to Cassy to be of an otherworldly design and purpose. At its core was a huge steel cylinder that looked vaguely reminiscent of a very large MRI machine. Steel girders angled off in various directions. This superstructure supported what looked to Cassy like equipment for the storage and transmission of high-voltage electricity. A command control center was off to the side, containing a bewildering number of monitors, dials, and switches.

  At first Beau didn’t speak. He just allowed Cassy to be overwhelmed by the scene.

  “It is nearly finished,” Beau said finally.

  “What is it?” Cassy asked.

  “It is what we call a Gateway,” Beau said. “It is a formal connection to other worlds that we have infested.”

  “What do you mean, connection?” Cassy asked. “Is this some communication device?”

  “No,” Beau said. “Transportation, not communication.”

  Cassy swallowed. Her throat had gone dry. “You mean other species from other planets that you, I mean, the virus has infected. They will be able to come here. To Earth!”

  “And we there,” Beau said triumphantly. “The Earth will henceforth be linked to these other worlds. Its isolation is over. It will truly become part of the galaxy.”

  Cassy felt suddenly weak. The horror of the Earth being invaded by countless alien creatures was now added to the personal fear she had for herself. Combining this with the frantic swirl of nightmarish activity around her and her physical, emotional, and mental exhaustion, Cassy swooned. The room began to spin and darken, and she fainted.

  When she came to, Cassy had no idea how long she’d been unconscious. The first thing she was aware of was a slight nauseousness, but it quickly passed after a shiver. The next thing she sensed was that her right hand was balled into a fist and held firmly.

  Cassy’s eyes blinked open. She was on the floor in the busy ballroom looking up at a portion of the futuristic, jury-rigged contraption that was allegedly capable of transporting alien creatures to Earth.

  “You’re going to be okay,” Beau said.

  Cassy shuddered. It was the cliché that was always told to the patient no matter what the prospective prognosis. Cassy let her eyes fall toward Beau. He was kneeling next to her, clutching her fist closed. That was when Cassy realized there was something in her palm, something heavy and cold.

  “No,” Cassy cried. She tried to pull her hand free, but Beau would not let it go.

  “Please, Beau,” Cassy cried.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Beau said soothingly. “You will be content.”

  “Beau, if you love me don’t do this,” Cassy said.

  “Cassy, calm down,” Beau said. “I do love you.”

  “If you have any control over your actions, let go of my hand,” Cassy said. “I want to be myself.”

  “You will be,” Beau said assuringly. “And much more. I do have control. I’m doing what I want. I want the power that has been given me, and I want you.”

  “Ahhh!” Cassy cried.

  Beau immediately let go of her hand. Cassy sat up and with an exclamation of disgust threw the black disc away from herself. It skidded on a small patch of floor before thumping into a bundle of wires.

  Cassy grabbed her injured hand with the other and looked at the slowly enlarging drop of blood at the base of her index finger. She’d been stung, and the crushing realization of what that meant caused her to collapse back onto the floor. A single tear rolled out from beneath each eyelid and ran off on either side of her face. She was now one of them.

  18

  9:15 A.M.

  THE GAS STATION LOOKED LIKE A MOVIE SET IN THE nineteen-thirties or the cover of an old Saturday Evening Post magazine. There were two old skinny gas pumps that resembled miniature skyscrapers with art deco round tops. In the middle of the tops an image of a red Pegasus still could be discerned despite the peeling paint.

  The building behind the pumps was of the same vintage. It defied belief it was still standing. Over the last half century the sand blowing in off the desert had scoured the clapboards of any vestige of paint. The only thing that was reasonably intact was the old asphalt shingle roof. The screen door minus its screens blew back and forth in the hot breeze: a standing tribute to the longevity of its hardware.

  Pitt pulled the van over to the side of the road opposite the dilapidated station so that they could look at it.

  “What a Godforsaken place,” Sheila commented, wiping the sweat out of her eyes. The desert sun was just beginning to give evidence of its noonday power.

  They were on an essentially abandoned two-lane road that at one time had been a major route across the Arizona desert. But the interstate twenty miles to the south had changed that. Now cars rarely ventured along this rutted tarmac, as evidenced by the encroaching wisps of sand.

  “This is where he said he’d meet us,” Jonathan said. “And it is exactly as he described it, screen door and all.”

  “Well, where is he?” Pitt asked. He ran his eyes around the distant horizon. Except for a few lonely mesas in the distance, there was nothing but flat desert in every direction. The only movement visible was that of clumps of tumbleweed.

  “Maybe we should just sit and wait,” Jonathan suggested. He was finding it difficult to keep his eyes open from lack of sleep.

  “There’s no cover out here whatsoever,” Pitt said. “It gives me the willies.”

  “Maybe we should look inside the broken-down station house,” Sheila said.

  Pitt restarted the van, pulled across the road, and parked between the ancient gas pumps and the dilapidated building. They all eyed the structure with unease. There was something about it that was spooky, particularly with the screen door opening and closing repeatedly. Now that they were close enough they could hear the aged hinges squeaking. The small paned windows, which were surprisingly intact, were too filthy to see through.

  “Let’s take a look inside,” Sheila said.

  Hesitantly they climbed out of the van and warily approached the
porch. There were two old rocking chairs whose cane seats had long ago rotted out. Next to the door was the rusting hulk of an old-style, ice-cooled Coke dispenser. The sliding lid was open and the interior was filled with all manner of debris.

  Pitt propped open the screen door and tried the interior door. It was unlocked. He pushed it open.

  “You guys coming or what?” Pitt asked.

  “After you,” Sheila said.

  Pitt stepped inside followed by Jonathan and then Sheila. They stopped just over the threshold and glanced around. With the dirty windows the light was meager. There was a metal desk to the right with a calendar behind it. The year was 1938. The floor was littered with dirt, sand, broken bottles, old newspaper, empty oil cans, and old car parts. Cobwebs hung like Spanish moss from portions of the ceiling joists. To the left was a doorway. The paneled door was partially ajar.

  “Looks like nobody’s been in here for a long time,” Pitt said. “You think this supposed meeting was some kind of setup?”

  “I don’t think so,” Jonathan said. “Maybe he’s waiting for us in the desert, watching us to make sure we’re okay.”

  “Where could he be watching us from?” Pitt asked. “It’s as flat as a pancake outside.” He walked over to the partially opened door and pushed it open all the way. Its hinges protested loudly. The second room was even darker than the first, with only one small window. The walls were lined with shelving, suggesting it had been a storeroom.

  “Well, I’m not sure it makes a hell of a lot of difference if we find him or not,” Sheila said dejectedly. She nudged some of the trash on the floor with her foot. “I was holding out hope that since he was giving us some interesting information, he had access to a lab or something. Needless to say we’re not going to be able to do any work in a place like this. I think we’d better move on.”

  “Let’s wait a little while,” Jonathan said. “I’m sure this guy is legit.”

  “He told us he’d be here when we got here,” Sheila reminded Jonathan. “He either lied to us or…”