Copyright 1999, Zelda. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reposted in part or in full without written permission.
Disclaimer: Earth: Final Conflict and all its characters are the property of Tribune Entertainment and are used without permission. Jarod is the property of the Centre, aka NBC Television, and is also used without permission. However, I do promise to put everyone neatly away when I am done playing with them
Rating: PG-13
Must Be Willing to Work Long Hours
an Earth: Final Conflict story
By: Zelda
Note: This chapter features the first of our Pretender cameos, so here's what you need to know: When Jarod escaped from The Centre as an adult, three people were assigned the task of chasing him down. Sydney (no last name given) was Jarod's mentor, the psychiatrist who trained him as a Pretender and served as a father-figure; Miss Parker (no first name given) was the daughter of Mr. Parker, Centre bigshot. She grew up with Jarod, gave him his first kiss and became a first-class bitch (are the two related? Hmmm … And the third person tracking Jarod was Broots, a technical genius who only kept working for the Centre because he needed the money to raise his daughter, Debbie. Okay, got all that? And as for the hair-sniffing, those of you who have "Atavus" on tape, check out the scene in the Flat Planet.
Joshua Doors hurried down the corridor, straightening his tie. Security had just sent word that she was here, and he wanted to greet her personally, as soon as possible. A half-smile quirked his lips; what a great team they would make, just like the old days! He rounded the corner and there she was. "Emma," he said, holding out his hand.
"Joshua," she responded, grasping his hand and smiling.
"It's good to see you. Nice suit, by the way. I could only get you an hour with Zo'or, but that should be enough time for you to dazzle him. The shuttle is waiting." One arm gestured forward, the other curved around Emma's waist. Moments later, they were heading for the Taelon Mothership.
Inside, Emma leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "Emma?" asked Joshua with concern. "You alright?"
"Sorry," she replied, turning towards Joshua. "Just nerves," she shrugged.
"Don't worry. You can do it."
"Of course I can do it," she snapped. "But what if Zo'or doesn't see that?"
"Don't worry about Zo'or. Yes, it's true he has an enormous ego, and he believes that the Taelons are superior in every way, but it's also true that he wouldn't be where he is now without us."
"Without you," she corrected. "Joshua, how are you? Really?" Joshua looked deeply into her serious blue eyes, and smiled.
"I feel…great." He leaned back in the chair. "After all those years of getting kicked around, everything he did to Mom and me..." He paused, savoring the memory. "And in the end, all he could do was beg for forgiveness. It was…even better than I imagined. Almost…"
"Orgasmic?" she completed for him. At his startled look, she laughed. "Don't forget, I've been there. I know what it's like. The confrontation: when they confess, and then, they squirm. Definitely orgasmic. I gather he hasn't been captured yet?"
"No, but it's only a matter of time. He can't hide from us forever. And don't you fret about Zo'or. I have every confidence in you," he grinned as he dredged up their old catchphrase. Emma shook her head in mock despair.
***
The view from the bridge of Mothership was truly fantastic. At least, that's what Emma had heard, but apparently she was not to experience it today. She and Joshua had been sequestered in a meeting room to wait for Zo'or. That had been almost half an hour ago, a delay which, under normal circumstances, would have irritated her immeasurably. Today, however, she was grateful for the chance to review the plans drawn up in frantic haste only a few hours earlier.
"The most important thing," Liam had said, while they were gathered around the computer console, "is to find out what's happened to the Resistance members Zo'or has captured. We need to free them."
"The most important thing," Augur repeated, with more volume, "is to find out what's happened to Lili." He shifted stations yet again. "Damn! Liam, I don't know how long it's going to take to re-establish our surveillance of the Mothership. All the passwords have been changed, and they keep changing them."
Liam walked around the console, rubbing his newly-healed palms absently. "We have to keep trying, Augur. We need to know what's going on up there."
"Hey, what's this?" Augur exclaimed. Jarod leaned in for a closer look.
"It seems to be some kind of encrypted signal," commented the Pretender.
"Computer, decode the signal using All-Matching program." They waited. And waited. "Computer, status?" growled Augur impatiently.
Emma blinked as an image of Captain Marquette appeared, carrying a squalling infant over one towel-draped shoulder. "Look, could you give me a minute here? Little Augur's got the colic, poor thing, and you have all my subroutines tied up trying to break into the Mothership. I'm not Superwoman! It wouldn't kill you to do a few things for yourself once in a while!" Liam and Jarod exchanged amused glances behind the nonplussed Augur's back.
"I'm sorry," apologized Augur. He touched a few controls. "Is that any better?"
The holo-baby stopped crying. Its mother sighed in relief. "Much. Signal decoded," she announced.
"Well, what is it?"
"It's not for you," replied Holo-Lili primly. "It's for Liam." Liam wiped the smirk from his face and straightened up.
"Would you show me please?" he asked courteously.
"Of course." The holographic program looked reproachfully at Augur. "See how easy that was?" she rebuked him, and disappeared, to be replaced by Da'an's face.
"Liam, I do not have long and I must trust that you will receive this message. I cannot reach you through your global to warn you, but I fear the worst is upon us. I am expecting Agent Sandoval shortly; I have spoken too openly in opposition to Zo'or. You must not come to the Mothership to rescue me. It would mean your death. Your responsibility now must be to your species. I release you from your oath. Do what you must: humanity must survive. Take care, Liam, and know that I am honored to have called you my friend, as well as my protector."
A shaken Liam felt for a seat and dropped heavily into it. He looked completely lost. "I have to save him," he whispered.
"Liam!" exclaimed Augur. "You heard what Da'an said! It would be suicide! Have some sense, man! You can't rescue him from the Mothership!"
"Then we'll have to do it from someplace else," Liam answered, new resolve imprinting itself upon his face.
Joshua's discreet cough jerked Emma back to the present, drawing her attention to the doorway.
"Agent Sandoval, Zo'or, thank you for agreeing to this meeting. I promise, it will be worth your while." Joshua escorted the two into the room.
"It had better be, Mr. Doors," replied Zo'or with his customary coldness.
"May I present Miss Emma Weston?"
"Agent Sandoval," Emma inclined her head. "Zo'or." She performed the Taelon gesture of welcoming. "It is an honour to have this opportunity to meet with you personally."
"We have done so at the insistence of Mr. Doors. I trust you have something of significance to bring to us?" Sandoval took a position behind Zo'or's chair, the only one in the room.
Emma moved to the center of the room to begin her pitch. "The past few days have seen incredible changes in the Taelon-human dynamic. When you came to Earth, you called yourselves the Companions, and told us that you came in peace. You brought an end to war, hunger and disease. But not all of humanity was satisfied to simply accept your gifts. Those who questioned, soon organized themselves into the Resistance, led by Jonathan Doors. When this year's Presidential election was called, Doors emerged from hiding and placed his name on the ballot to become our next President. Even though he was leading in the polls, at the final debate before the election, he attempted to assassinate the incumbent President, Thompson. An infuriated American public voted for Thompson in record numbers. The re-elected President has now called upon Taelon support to eliminate the Resistance, support which you have provided in the form of troops and military equipment. Martial law has been declared in the American republic, for the first time in over two hundred years."
Zo'or quirked his head to the side. "Why do you speak of what is already known?"
"I merely speak of what is on the public record," Emma replied. "I know the facts, and where they differ. It's this gap between appearance and reality that you need to exploit." She paused. "The reality is the Taelons cannot afford to continue their military domination of the United States. I project that within the next six months, the Resistance will return in greater numbers, most of them ordinary citizens, angered by your interference in their affairs. You will be drawn into a war you cannot hope to win, when you are already at war with the Jaridians."
"The Taelons have military superiority over any Earth force," Sandoval claimed.
"It doesn't matter. Guerrilla units will spring up around the country. Rioting has already started in New York and Los Angeles. Don't forget, our nation was founded on just such a war. Now if you had tried this in Canada…" Emma raised one shoulder. Joshua swallowed a smile. Risking a look at Zo'or, he could see that she had the Taelon in the palm of her hand. He winked to relay the information to Emma.
"What do you suggest?" Zo'or leaned forward in his chair.
"The previous alliance between the Companions and humanity worked because we wanted to help you. But during the past year, you have turned away from this valuable resource and instead attempted to force our cooperation." A pinched expression raced across Zo'or's face. Didn't like that, did you? Emma thought with satisfaction.
"Any such reports are, at best, outrageous allegations," the Synod Leader recovered, smiling.
"Of course," Emma acknowledged sweetly. "And when your Commonality was disrupted by a Jaridian probe, the humans who helped sustain you were of course volunteers, and not suspected Resistance members dragged off the street." Her tone was light but spiked with menace.
"Of course." Zo'or echoed her tone exactly.
"But they could have been volunteers," she emphasized. "You took by force what could have been yours freely." She let a moment pass to allow the idea to sink in, and then continued. "If you and Da'an had made the appeal, millions would have responded."
"What is your proposal, Miss Weston?" asked Sandoval impatiently.
"My proposal, Mr. Sandoval, is that instead of wasting valuable Taelon resources in support of this state of emergency, we encourage the people of Earth to police themselves, to purge themselves, if you will, of this Resistance contamination. I assure you, given the proper encouragement, we humans can oppress ourselves far more effectively than any number of Taelons. After all, we have centuries of experience at it." She finished her entreaty facing Zo'or directly.
"And what sort of … encouragement would you recommend, Miss Weston?" he inquired.
Sandoval noted with interest that this was the first time Emma Weston seemed uncomfortable since he and Zo'or had entered the room. With a quick glance at Joshua for support, she said, "If a prominent Taelon were to make a request for a return to order, and he were to stress that it was the duty of all proper Humans to report suspicious activity, I believe you could eliminate the Resistance threat."
Zo'or leaned back into his chair, steepling his hands in front of him, a human gesture he had recently observed. "A tempting offer, Miss Weston," he complimented. "Is the leader of the Taelon Synod sufficiently prominent for your purposes?"
Emma took a deep breath. Now she was getting into the deep end. The most important thing, warned Jarod's voice from the back of her mind, is: don't get caught. "Actually, Zo'or, a little too prominent. The public views the Synod Leader as remote, distanced from human concerns. We would require a more approachable Taelon, one the public identifies with. We need Da'an."
"Impossible," retorted Zo'or sharply. "You will have to find another, or else use me."
"Im-" began Emma. Sandoval interrupted her. "Da'an has been placed under confinement."
"Purely protective, I assure you," Zo'or soothed. "But in any case, he would never agree to work with us in such a manner."
Emma returned Zo'or's initial contemptuous glare in full measure. "Then don't tell him."
"Pardon me?" Sandoval couldn't believe what he was hearing. Nothing in the Taelon files had indicated this side of Emma Weston. He snuck a confirming glance at Joshua. The younger Doors was grinning from ear to ear; obviously he was not surprised.
She continued. "Tell him you've changed your mind, his example has persuaded you, buy him off, whatever it takes. You need him to get the public on your side."
"And when he discovers he has been used?"
She clasped her trembling hands behind her back. "The public also loves a martyr, Zo'or. With all due respect, of course."
"Of course. Would you give us a moment, please?" Emma obligingly went out the door. Joshua followed right behind her.
"Now that's what I call dazzle," he said with approval. "How do you come up with this stuff?"
"What else have I had to do for the past six months, while you were setting up your father?"
Sandoval came out of the room and beckoned them back in. "Miss Weston," the Synod Leader pronounced, "your proposal is acceptable. You may begin immediately."
***
"Nice suit," commented Jarod as Emma dropped her navy winter coat on Augur's vivid orange sofa.
"Thanks," she replied, pulling at the wrinkled pale blue fabric in dismay, "but it looked better this morning." Liam and Augur hovered expectantly nearby. "So where shall we do this? Out in the open?" she gestured down towards the center of the lair. Jarod offered her a chair, but she shook her head. The way she was feeling right now, one minute she'd be sitting down and the next, out like a light. The only way to keep the blood flowing was to keep moving.
"First things first: yes, I'm in and yes, Zo'or has bought our plan."
"Do you have a timetable?"
"Have you seen Da'an?" Liam cut in quietly.
"No timetable, Jarod, and yes, I have seen him. That's the problem. I'm afraid Da'an won't go along with our plan. Zo'or brought me along to 'observe' while he talked to Da'an today, and …" she trailed off in dismay. "Da'an is not going to agree with anything Zo'or suggests."
"What did they say?"
"To be honest, I couldn't really tell you. They were talking in Euonia the whole time. But judging from their body language and Zo'or's more foul than usual temper right after, it didn't go very well at all. Every time that Zo'or spoke, Da'an just turned away. Finally Zo'or got pissed off and stalked out."
"When will you suggest to Zo'or that you should talk to Da'an?" Jarod asked.
"He needs to try a few more times, I think you'll agree. But even when I do get in to see Da'an, I don't know if he'll believe me, either. I mean, what am I supposed to say? I can't tell him the plan, or that I'm working with you guys. His cell is under full surveillance. We might just as well send Zo'or an engraved invitation to Da'an's breakout party." Emma ran her hand through her bangs, then reached around to the back of her head and began pulling out the pins that held her hair in a loose knot. Gods, her head was starting to ache!
"Could you tell him you have a message from Liam?" Augur proposed.
Emma pulled out the last bobby pin and shook her hair loose with her fingers. "The Major is persona non grata at the moment." She met Liam's fascinated gaze regretfully. "The arrest warrant was issued this afternoon; I'm sorry. And before you ask, Augur, no, I haven't seen or heard of Lili. When I asked Sandoval about her, he said that information was not pertinent to my work, and therefore none of my concern." A dejected silence settled over the four. "But I will try again tomorrow," Emma said, forcing confidence into her voice. "They've given me pretty broad access to the information stream. If you show me how, Augur, I bet we could make my access even broader."
"I have just the thing!" Augur began rummaging through a crate of tiny electronic instruments.
"But that still leaves us with the problem of Da'an," Jarod reminded them. Liam thought desperately. In the time he had served as Da'an's protector, surely there must have been something that had happened or that he had said that could be used a signal to the Companion? He cast his mind back to the very beginning -- and remembered.
Of course, he'd thought, when he spotted the opening. And now, seven moves later, "Foov'lasha," he announced with pride, as the game chimed its agreement. The pale-skinned alien opposite him wore an intrigued expression.
"I have never seen foov'lasha played on this level. How long have you been playing?" it inquired. Liam corrected himself. Not it, he. He had to remember to think of it as male.
"This is my first time," he answered, studying the game with extreme satisfaction. What if he had placed this piece over there? He plotted another series of victorious moves. "I'm good at games." Running, jumping, impersonating military officers…
Faster than he would have dreamed possible, Da'an's hand shot out and grabbed his own. "Not as good as you are at hiding the truth," the Taelon responded.
Fighting the onslaught of panic that threatened to send him racing from the room, he stalled. "The truth?"
"As written in your palm," it -- no, he -- said. Traitorous panic stopped urging him to flee and froze him in place instead. The Taelon turned over Liam's hand; in the center of the palm, a faint discoloration was visible. It tingled uncomfortably under Da'an's gaze.
"You deceived me," Da'an accused. Liam met the Taelon's eyes, determined to brazen out the encounter at any cost, and saw in them something that not one of his three sets of ancestral memories had anticipated. Compassion. Understanding. And hope. The chains of fear holding his breath in place dissolved.
"What can I say? You got me," he returned, brimming with the same self-confidence he'd felt after saving Da'an's life at Boone's funeral.
Da'an smiled as he reclaimed the last gamepiece. "Only a lasha master could triumph over me at my own game."
"Only a lasha master could triumph over me at my own game," Da'an's voice echoed in his memory. He had kept that one piece from Da'an's set…slipped it into his coat pocket the morning of the election, the day that he had rescued Doors and then…His mind shied away from the rest of the memory. Better not to go there just now. But the coat… "Be right back," he promised. Rushing to his room, he quickly located the piece and returned to the main hall. Coming up to Emma, he passed her the triangular object. "Here," he said.
"What is it?" she asked, obviously mystified.
"It's a piece from a Taelon game called foov'lasha. Da'an and I played. It was my second day," Liam answered. Emma closed her hand around the piece, then opened it in the Taelon greeting gesture. And that's when he did it. He leaned in, ever so slightly, as he'd been longing to do since she'd first started taking down her hair, and sniffed. The aroma hit him with a rush. It was exactly as he'd remembered. In a flash he was back at the Embassy, passing through the dimly-lit hall, where he'd fled just to be alone for a moment -- as much as a newborn Kimera with the memories of three parents could ever be alone -- when she crashed into him, rocking him back on his heels. For a moment, his head had swum with the heady fragrance, a mix of smells that he couldn't even classify except as good. Ever since, he had tried to find that same scent, sniffing the hair of every female he encountered, starting with Suzanne at the Flat Planet to most recently Abby Franklin, but not one had come close to Emma Weston.
Emma practiced revealing the lasha piece one more time. "So, now that we have Da'an settled, what's the next step in our plan to take over the world?" she asked through an enormous yawn.
"Emma," asked Jarod, "when was the last time you got some sleep?"
"Monday. I slept Monday, before all this started. Why? What day is it today?"
"Thursday," Augur answered as he pulled something out of the crate. "Here we go. Just the thing for breaking into Taelon databases."
***
Both Liam and Augur were engrossed at the computer when Jarod returned from seeing Emma home. "I don't see how the three of us can do it, Liam. The area is just too big," Augur stated. It sounded like the argument had been going on for a while.
"I agree with you, but I don't know what other choices we have. We're only going to get one shot at this," replied Liam. Jarod noted that Kincaid was massaging his palms again. "Jarod, do you have any suggestions?"
The Pretender crossed the room to examine the display. On the screen was a three-dimensional representation of the area just across from the Taelon embassy, where, Emma had informed them, Zo'or was planning to hold Da'an's final press conference. "The same features that make this location ideal also make it impossible to work with. But don't worry. I never planned for just the three of us to carry this off. I know some people who can help us, good people."
***
"Well, Miss Weston," Zo'or swiveled his command chair around to glare at the new arrival disdainfully, "it appears that your ambitious plan will not be proceeding after all." He felt Sandoval's presence at his shoulder and knew that the implant was observing all the activity on the bridge. That was as it should be. And Weston's attention was now devoted to him, which was also as it should be. She regarded him dispassionately, awaiting further explanation. "As I predicted, Da'an has refused to join us." Zo'or reveled in the complex mixture of emotions the statement generated within him. Satisfaction that he had been correct; superiority over the inferior humans; contempt for their pathetic attempts to intrigue like Taelons; and the true seasoning to the mix, faint regret that yet again Da'an had refused to acknowledge Zo'or's fitness for the role chosen for him by the Synod.
"With your permission, Zo'or," Weston spoke respectfully, one of her most admirable traits. He gestured for her to continue. "Perhaps Da'an might be more willing to listen to someone less intimately known to him." He considered the notion, and dismissed it. However, experience had shown him that it was more stimulating to allow the humans to overreach themselves from time to time.
"You are referring to yourself, I presume?" At her affirmative response, the Synod Leader allowed his face to register both approval of her plan, and expectation of her failure. "You may proceed." Sandoval dispatched a Volunteer to escort Weston to Da'an's holding cell.
***
Another missed opportunity to enjoy the view, sighed Emma as she dutifully followed the black-and-silver clad Volunteer through the ship. And as for Zo'or, was it possible that a more arrogant creature existed anywhere in the universe? She was so looking forward to his expression when he was told that Da'an had escaped their carefully laid trap. The Volunteer stopped to enter a security code -- the same code used each time she and Zo'or had visited Da'an. Sloppy, sloppy -- good for us, Emma thought. This time, instead of waiting in the antechamber, she and the Volunteer proceeded to Da'an's cell. As the young woman disarmed the forcefield barrier, Emma palmed the lasha piece Liam had given her. "When you are ready," said the Volunteer. Emma tugged at the waistband of her top with both hands to straighten it, nodded, and stepped into the cell. The barrier crackled into life behind her.
Da'an stood silhouetted against the starfield visible through the virtual glass. He allowed a moment to pass, before acknowledging the intruder. What Zo'or wanted, he could not even begin to say. Even the Commonality gave him no hint as to why his cooperation was so ardently desired by the Synod Leader. But beyond any doubt, it was the one thing Zo'or should never have. He turned.
The Taelon blushed blue at Zo'or's latest attempt to win him over. "Miss Weston. I am disappointed to see you here."
Emma took one more step forward to ensure her back was to the main security camera. "Da'an," she greeted, her right hand opening to reveal the translucent game piece. She held the gesture a moment longer than necessary and was rewarded by a sudden intake of breath from Da'an.
"Where," he breathed out, but she forestalled him with a slight head shake. Tilting her head towards the nearest of the cameras she prayed he would understand her message. "Where does Zo'or get the audacity to imagine that you will succeed where he has failed?" Da'an recovered in a stronger voice.
"Perhaps he believes that you are more likely to listen to a human about the concerns of humanity. Da'an, people are dying. You can stop it, but not from in here. Humanity needs you, to protect us from Zo'or and from ourselves." She looked directly at Da'an and mouthed "Liam." Hope rose in the Companion for the first time since his imprisonment.
"What do you expect me to do?"
***
Liam skulked through the gathering crowd, baseball cap pulled low over his brown curls. It was good to be outdoors, but any further delay and his nerves would be completely shot. He surveyed the park yet again. A minimal police force was stationed around the edges of the crowd. He would never have let Da'an appear in public with such shoddy security, but of course that was Zo'or's whole game plan. Jarod was also somewhere in the crowd, preparing to move on Da'an's shuttle when it landed and disable it to prevent pursuit. Augur stood to the left of the stage, keeping an ear on the comm frequencies so that they would have some warning of Da'an's arrival. And, according to Jarod, one of his accomplices was nearby, ready to drive the getaway van, while the other was already on the rooftop where Emma had informed them Zo'or's sniper would position himself. Provided, he thought, finally acknowledging his secret fear, that this whole thing isn't a setup to flush out the rest of the Resistance. His stomach rolled again. But what other choice did he have? What other choice had he ever had? Clamping his lips together and willing his rebellious stomach into submission, he started to move toward the stage. The global in his pocket vibrated, announcing Da'an's imminent arrival.
The shuttle safely landed, the pilot dissolved the virtual glass barrier and stepped aside to allow the passengers out. Sandoval exited first, followed by a security-rank Volunteer, and then Da'an. The crowd surged forward in anticipation. Emma was the last to disembark. Cold November air slicing through her, she buttoned up her coat and moved after the main party.
Jarod waited until Da'an and his escort were positioned on stage, then casually sauntered over to the shuttle. "Are you guarding this shuttle?" he asked the pilot in a brusque tone.
"Yes, sir," said the young man, responding to the captain's ranking on his acquired Volunteer uniform.
"By yourself?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good," said Jarod, and slugged him.
Joshua Doors was finishing his welcoming speech and motioning Da'an to the podium as Augur entered the last command on his global. Little slime, he reflected. I never liked him. Especially when he was dating Lili. He pressed Send, and faded back into the crowd to head for the rendezvous point. In five seconds, he thought with pride, they won't know what hit them, and they sure as hell won't be able to tell anyone about it.
Da'an looked over the crowd. So many faces, pressing forward in hope, in expectation, that where the Taelons had saved them once, they would be able to do so again. Would he see the faces he expected, he hoped to see? Was it fair to depend on Liam, on Lili, on all of them, to rescue him? "Friends of Earth," he said, beginning the speech Emma had prepared for him. "I come before you today to ask for your help."
Liam was at the edge of the stage now, his route open before him. All he had to wait for was … and the podium in front of Da'an disintegrated in an instant. Yelling, "Da'an, get down!" he threw himself across the stage onto the Companion, knocking them both to the ground as another energy bolt sizzled overhead. He had only a moment to met Da'an's startled yet amused gaze before he leapt to his feet. "Come on! We've got to get you out of here!" He offered his hand to Da'an.
Sandoval whipped around, skrill glowing. "Major!" he exclaimed. "Explain your presence here."
"We're protecting Da'an, as you seem to have failed to do," the young man answered. Sandoval grimaced at the arrogant tone in Kincaid's voice. An older man in a Volunteer uniform ran up behind Kincaid. As Da'an awkwardly got to his feet, the man reported, "We got the sniper, sir, but there could be more."
"Go, go," responded Kincaid, his gaze locked with Sandoval's. "Get Da'an out of here!"
"I'm afraid I can't allow that, Major," Sandoval interjected, aiming his skrill at Da'an and the fake Volunteer.
Without moving his eyes from Sandoval's face, Liam's left hand reached out and nabbed Emma from her hiding place behind a chair. His Taelon-issue gun appeared in his right hand. Emma uttered a little squeak as the barrel was placed against her head. "Maybe you should reconsider," he suggested, beginning to back up.
Sandoval ground his teeth. He didn't like these kinds of choices, but he could make them. He braced himself for the skrill blast. "No!" yelled Joshua, striking down the implant's arm. The skrill discharged into the stage, vaporizing a hole just at the young Doors's feet. Sandoval charged forward, but it was too late. They were gone.
"Dammit!" he yelled, pulling out his global. Opening the screen, he was greeted by dead air. "What the…" He shook it, but to no avail, and realized that he hadn't heard anything through his earpiece either since the whole incident began. He threw the useless equipment to the ground in disgust. This was not going to be easy to explain to Zo'or. Not at all.
***
The white cube van proceeded sedately down the alleyway. At its end, a garage door rolled up silently to allow the van inside, and rolled just as silently back down. Augur exuberantly threw open the back door of the truck. "Liam! Liam! That was beautiful! Did you see his face?" Liam helped Da'an to his feet, then down the steps Augur placed against the back bumper. Jarod and Emma were right behind them.
"Augur," Da'an greeted, then turned to his Protector. "Liam." Genuine affection infused the Taelon's already rich tones. "You have disobeyed me."
"You said not to rescue you from the Mothership," Liam stressed with a hopeful smile. Da'an tilted his head in acknowledgement.
"True," he allowed. "And Miss Weston. My thanks must go to you as well."
"You're welcome. Um, if you'll excuse me? I need to help Jarod with the truck," and she escaped. Jarod and the driver were already peeling back the layer of white plastic that had concealed the truck's much faded logo. "Hey," she called up.
"Take that corner," pointed Jarod from the roof of the van and the three of them pulled. "Oh, Emma, our driver, Debbie Broots, Debbie, my friend, Emma Weston." The last of the plastic came off and Jarod began wadding it into a ball. "Pleased to meet you," offered Debbie. Emma shook Debbie's hand. "Likewise."
"Alrighty then," began Jarod, as he finished disposing of the plastic. Debbie rolled her eyes in exasperation. Emma smiled back in sympathy. "You know what to do next?"
"Dump the van at the coordinates you gave me," Debbie answered.
"And then?"
Reluctantly, she replied, "Go right home."
"Good girl," said Jarod. "Give my best to your father. And be careful!" Debbie climbed into the truck; Jarod opened the garage door and she was off.
And a dejected Emma realized they were now headed back into the sewers.
***
"But what of Jonathan Doors?" Da'an asked as Augur unlocked the door to the hideout.
"See for yourself," Liam waved Da'an inside. The room was much changed from his previous visit: the harsh lighting had disappeared, comfortable furniture had been disposed here and there, and paintings and sculptures beautified every corner.
"This is different," commented Da'an.
"Damn right it's different," growled a voice. "Why the hell'd you bring that Taelon here anyway?" Jonathan Doors rose with difficulty from a seat by the central console. His inflection on the word Taelon was worth seventy swear words, thought Emma with reluctant admiration.
"My house, my rules, Doors," Augur stated blandly.
Da'an descended the stairs to stand in front of Doors. The human's dislike of him radiated out in waves that were almost painful. Steeling himself, Da'an extended his hand in the human greeting gesture, saying, "Mr. Doors, I am pleased to see you again. And you have my sympathy in the actions of your son."
Doors eyed the Taelon's outstretched hand suspiciously at first, but all belligerence vanished at the mention of Joshua. "Thank you," he replied gruffly, grasping Da'an's hand.
"But where is Captain Marquette?" Da'an inquired.
"We'd hoped you could answer that," said a dismayed Liam.
"I assumed she was with you. After her escape from the Mothership…"
"Lili escaped?" yelped Augur.
"I assumed she would have returned to you," Da'an continued. Worry darkened the Companion's luminescent eyes.
"Wait, wait," pleaded Emma. "Let's go back to the beginning. What did the Captain have to escape from?"
"She was going to overload the main power system on the Mothership," Liam stated. Nervously rubbing his hands, he began to pace around the console.
"She did not succeed. She was captured, but escaped before she could be interrogated."
Guilty relief swept through Liam. Much as he admired Lili, even she could not have withstood Zo'or for long. And that would have meant his secret would be revealed.
Augur demanded, "How did she escape? How long ago? Where is she now?"
"I wish I could answer you, Augur. I have relayed everything I know. It is all Zo'or would reveal to me," Da'an answered, his hands moving agitatedly.
"And we all know how truthful Zo'or is," Augur scoffed. "Lili could be anywhere--she could still be a prisoner!"
"It just makes the next phase of our plan even more important, Augur," Liam slapped his friend on the back with false heartiness.
"Next phase?" Da'an quirked his head interrogatively.
Jarod returned bearing a tray of steaming mugs. "We're going to liberate the Liberation," he said with a smug smirk.
"But we'll need a diversion, to keep Zo'or busy while we're freeing his prisoners," continued Liam, looking expectantly at Da'an.
"Which means, we have a question to ask you, Da'an." Emma placed her mug on the table and stood. "Will you help us? Will you tell William Boone's story to the world? Will you expose Zo'or?"
The Companion evaluated the little group. Five humans, prepared to throw themselves against the full might of the Taelon empire. Doors, old, wounded, suffering from pain both physical and spiritual; Augur, selfish, irresponsible, protective as a lion of his friends; Jarod, quiet, self-assured, though yet unknown; Liam, brash, reckless, more powerful than even he could imagine; and Emma, her superficial façade stripped away to reveal resources of surprising depth. It was impossible; it was lunacy; and it was the only thing he desired to do.
"Yes."
***
Back in the sewers, Emma made a silent resolution: When all this is over, I'm never going underground again!
"You don't have to do this, you know," Liam commented. "You don't have to go back to Zo'or, if you don't want to."
"Thanks, but I do. Someone has to be there when the shit hits the fan." Emma tried for a light-hearted tone.
"You feel pretty strongly about what he did to Boone," stated Liam. Maybe he would finally get some answers about what was motivating Emma, answers that would mean he could really trust her.
In the dim light, he could just make out the sorrow on her face. "Strongly isn't quite the word for it." She sighed, and met Liam's eyes, surprised by the compassion she saw there. "Will and my brother were friends. My family moved to Will's hometown when I was six. He and Jonny were inseparable as teenagers."
"You thought of him like another brother?" guessed Liam. It made perfect sense.
"He thought of me like another sister," Emma answered equivocally. And realized that she did want to tell Liam the truth. "I never thought of him as my brother."
Liam halted altogether. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize." He hadn't meant to find out this much.
"No, it's okay." She half-smiled up at him. "I've had a long time to get used to the fact that William Boone would never like me the way I liked him. But I don't like it when people mess with the people I love." She set her face determinedly.
"We'll have to cross here," Liam decided, looking around them and consulting his global. He edged out onto the narrow shelf and sidled across. Emma stepped up and shuffled behind him. Several feet below, a sludgy rivulet of she-didn't-want-to-know-what gurgled quietly. "Watch your step," he cautioned as he neared the other edge, "it's not too solid here." Just as he said it, she felt the brickwork crumble underneath her foot and she lost her balance. Liam had only a moment to react. He reached out, grabbed her hand, and yanked her onto solid ground. She slammed against his chest and he put his other arm around her to keep her standing. Emma held her face against Liam's chest for a moment, dizzy from the rapid movement. "Whoa," she mumbled.
"You okay?" he asked, looking down at her blonde head. Fragrance wafted up and assaulted his nostrils. He swallowed, hard.
"Yeah," she breathed, raising her eyes to Liam's. She felt a sudden clenching rush from her adrenal system. He's going to kiss me, she realized, and I'm going to let him. Liam's head came down, and his parted lips pressed against hers.
Liam's mind was swimming. Emma's fragrance surrounded him; he could feel her body pressing against his; her lips were soft and welcoming. He tingled from the tips of his toes to his shaqarava. This was much better than kissing Abby Franklin.
Emma struggled to control her breathing as the kiss ended. She'd never been so aroused by an action that, on the surface, seemed so innocent. Just two people placing their parted lips together for a brief moment, that was all, she told herself sternly. She held out her hand and smiled. "Come on, we'd better get going."
Liam's stomach turned over at her smile. Could he even walk? he wondered. He pulled out his global and reviewed the map to their destination. "This way," he said finally.
***
Inside the back of the white cube van that Debbie had compliantly abandoned at the proper coordinates, Liam checked Emma's bonds one last time. "They're not too tight?' he asked worriedly.
"No, it's fine," she assured him, wiggling her hands, which were now tied behind her back.
"Will you be warm enough? I can button up your coat," Liam offered. He'd have to get in close to do that…
"I'll be fine," she repeated, quite seriously. "I'm going to keep warm by trying to get out of these things before Sandoval comes. And if he doesn't," she cut him off, "I will see you back at Augur's in a few hours. Now get on with it, already!"
Liam tied the blindfold in place, verified that Emma could not see through it, and, as the final touch, gagged her. Taking the global Augur had prepared out of his pocket, he made the connection to the Taelon Mothership.
***
"Onscreen!" commanded Agent Sandoval, storming onto the bridge of the Mothership. Liam Kincaid's face filled the data stream.
"San-do-val," drawled the renegade Protector. "Come and pick up your trash." The view panned from Kincaid to a bound and struggling Emma Weston. "These coordinates." The data stream went dark, except for a blinking string of numbers.
"Download these coordinates to my shuttle immediately!" the implant snapped.
***
The Volunteer squadron threw open the door to the van, revealing a view nearly identical to the one Kincaid had transmitted to the Mothership. "Miss Weston," called Sandoval. She stopped pulling against the ropes. Sandoval leapt lightly into the back of the van and removed the blindfold and gag.
"Where the hell have you been?" she exploded furiously. "And what the hell was that? You assured me that Kincaid would be no problem! I spent an entire week planning that operation down to the smallest detail, and your sloppiness allowed it to be ruined." Sandoval found himself looking at the gag with regret.
"Take Miss Weston to my shuttle and see that she receives medical attention," he ordered, choosing to ignore her rampage. Her voice carried back to him as she was led away. "If you think that I'm…" He blocked out the distraction, and exited the van. "I need to you survey the entire scene," he instructed the Volunteers. "Mark anything that might lead us back to the perpetrators, but don't move it until the techs can examine it. Run the plates on this van," he commanded the nearest Volunteer. "And someone get to work on the inside." The implant stepped back to view the side panels of the truck. "Do you see writing under that paint?" he asked his second-in-command. The young woman looked carefully, then nodded. "See if you can find out what it says."
Several minutes later, she returned, global in hand. "Agent Sandoval? It's finished." At his nod, she popped open the screen to show him the reconstructed panel.
"The Centre Bakery" arched in script lettering over a picture of a donut being dipped in a steaming cup of coffee. Underneath, in block capitals, was written: "What's missing from your donut? The Centre!"
"Good work," Sandoval commended. From his vantage point up a tree, several hundred yards away, a figure nodded in satisfaction and put his high-powered binoculars away. Shimmying down the tree, he set off towards the west, taking care to avoid the Volunteers snuffling around for clues. He would have a favorable report to give to the old man.
TO BE CONTINUED