Chapter 14

Douglas' head flicked to the left. He'd heard something from elsewhere, and quickly dashed off, away from my attentive hand that had been scratching behind his fluffy ears. He trotted off and around a corner. My newly-freed hand went back to the cool glass of G & T, and I took a short sip of it.

It was hard to remain normal, no matter where we tried. The cosy familiarity of The Rising Sun and a soothing drink was only a little helpful, because being sat in a circle of four meant that conversations were bound to come up. We discussed Primark to death, with the conclusion a certain one: The Yeerks were using the place. There was some secret tunnel or stairwell that infested people were using. That was all we knew, but suspicions were that the Yeerk Pool was right below it.

"It's the perfect place," George surmised. "You get thousands of people going into that place, and nobody's going to second-guess somebody coming out of a changing room."

"What will Bert and Isaac do with the place?" Oliver asked us warily.

"Who knows?" Kiani said. "They want us to look at the other two places. Maybe they're trying to figure out a perimeter."

George rubbed his fingers on his chin. "That's a big perimeter…"

"It's fucking huge." Oliver clarified.

"How far is Primark from the shooting range?" I asked.

Oliver gazed momentarily up to the ceiling. "I'd say about three miles."

It didn't sound right. "This… Pool can't be that big."

"Could be tunnel systems," George said. "For all we know, it could be the size of a Burger King, but it has tunnels going to it from all over the place."

"How would nobody notice three-miles-worth of tunnels being built underground?" I asked.

"They're aliens," Kiani huffed. "They have alien tech and shit…"

"Yeah, you're right." I uttered.

"Okay, so what do we think about the Country Club?" George offered.

Kiani answered first, and most confidently, "I can do it. If it's anything like Primark, it shouldn't be too bad. We've learned our lesson, right?" She glanced to me.

"I guess we know what sort of thing we're looking for." I said.

"How about Saturday?" George suggested.

"I'm not here," I replied. "I'm going home this weekend to see my family, remember?"

"Next week then. I'm free Tuesday afternoon, I think."

Oliver shook his head and sighed. "Mate, why are we planning this now? We don't even know if we got the Primark one right."

"Eh?" George replied.

"They paid us all that dosh just to look at a changing room? We haven't even mentioned anything to them yet. We could be doing it all wrong. We still don't even know if this isn't some set up! Some trick!"

He was clearly agitated, his eyes wide and his fists shaking as he spoke in a hushed tone. I'd managed to get a few hours' sleep here or there. He looked like a wreck.

"Relax, Oli!" Kiani urged with concern. "Why are you getting so worked up? You look like you haven't showered in days…"

He clutched crooked fingers to his temple. "Are you lot having a laugh?! Don't you understand what we're getting ourselves into? This is not a fucking third-year dissertation. Somethings going to come along and clock us 'round the head."

His voice was starting to rise out of the small circle we'd formed. George rightfully cupped a hand to Oliver's face, who quickly turned away but realised that he'd grown too loud. His head dipped, and we stared at his crown as he regained his panicked breath.

"Jesus, mate," George uttered. "Come on, it can't be like that. We've just got to take it easy, right? We can do that."

I'd never seen a grown man cry, especially not one the size of Oliver. But now I had. He started to weep, placing a thumb and a finger to his eyes. Kiani's arm dutifully went over his shoulder, but he had been holding this back for some time and covering it up, sometimes convincingly but mostly not. This outpour of emotion was a lot to stomach, but it must have been so much harder for him.

George tried to find out what was causing it. "Come on, mate. What's started this, eh?"

Oliver looked up again, releasing his face from his hand with his eyes reddened. He stuttered his words at first, seemingly afraid to get them out, but eventually they came in a whisper. "I think my mum is one of them."

The three of us exchanged glances, and then scanned the room around us. Nobody was listening in, except for Douglas who'd come trotting back, an oblivious grin on his face.

"What makes you say that?" Kiani asked.

Oliver snuffled and rubbed a tear from his cheek. His weeping was coming to a stop. "She's… she hasn't been herself for months. I know it, I just know it. She's not right."

"You don't know that." Kiani insisted, attempting to sound as convincing as possible.

Oliver had nothing to say to that, but I could see from his expression that he really meant it. Since this had started, he had changed, like he feared something terrible. He'd been thinking it for some time.

Douglas' snout appeared beside his lap, peering up from below the surface of the table. The dog panted at him, like a reassuring, optimistic smile. Oliver petted Douglas.

((We could investigate her, if you'd like.))

Oliver shot up like he'd been stung by a wasp, his wooden seat crashing against the stone wall. He almost stepped into the roaring fire, an orange wisp flicking up around his trouser leg. Kiani and George, sitting either side of him, had recoiled sharply.

"Fucking Christ…" Oliver gasped.

"Somebody get these lightweight students out of here!" Somebody shouted with laughter from the bar. The bar lady, Teresa, knew us well and watched with curiosity. We'd attracted attention.

Stricken with emotion, Oliver didn't much care. "What the fuck?! Get him away!" He stepped further away from Douglas, whose grin persisted. George got up and held onto Oliver, urging him not to cause more of a stir.

((Relax, my friends,)) Douglas spoke, with a voice eerily like Bert's. ((It's just me. I've come to speak.))

We couldn't. Not right then. People at the bar were still watching, though interest was waning. George patted Oliver's shoulder. He'd stopped his recoiling and looked like he was considering calming down.

((Take your time,)) Bert said. ((I've got four hours.))

George was able to convince Oliver to retake his seat, though Douglas was ordered to back away and get out from under the table. He sat on his hind legs between me and George, partially hidden from the rest of the pub.

((Are we settled?))

"Why are you the dog?" I seethed, completely bypassing his question. "Where's the real Douglas?"

((Don't look at me when you're talking to me,)) He insisted with a chuckle. ((Don't attract any more attention than you already have.))

"Because we're to blame for that." Kiani grumbled.

((We cannot meet face-to-face, but we can meet like this,)) He justified. ((Anyway, the real Douglas is upstairs in the landlord's bedroom. He's fine.))

"Why here?" George demanded. "Can't this be our place? Why can't we meet somewhere else?"

((Name the place.)) Bert offered.

"I don't know…" George thought. "How about…"

He looked around the rest of the table for suggestions, but all he got was a return of blank stares. I thought of my flat, the local Burger King, and even the church. Nothing else seemed right. For one thing, Bert would need to be in morph.

((Keep thinking about it,)) Bert said. ((For now, let's talk. Oliver, you think that your mother is infested?))

Oliver looked about right to release a flood of emotion again, but in biting his lips he was able to hold on. "Yeah…" was all he managed to reply.

((I can arrange for our team to follow her. It's not something we will always have the resources for, but in this exceptional circumstance, I can do it.))

"If," Kiani started, "And that's an if, Oli's mum is infested, would you be able to save her?"

((I'm afraid not.))

Oli physically turned away and place a fist to his mouth.

Bert continued, ((Any unusual disappearance of hosts will perk Yeerk ears. We've seen it before. They will come for family relatives or co-workers if they suspect even the slightest abnormality. They would come for you, Oliver.))

"Are you about ready to fuck off, yet?" George growled.

((Not yet. Please, I'm not here to antagonise you. That's Isaac's job,)) He accompanied that with a huffed chuckle. ((No, I'm your friend in all of this. We can be buddies, huh? You're working for me, and so I'm working for you! I'm a sweet guy like that.))

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "What do you want? You're here for something."

((I'm checking up on you. A good boss always keeps tabs on his team. Have you made any plans?))

"We went to Primark," I said while staring blandly across the table. "One of the places you gave us coordinates for. We think we found something."

((How exciting,)) Bert hummed. ((What did you find, huh?))

I leaned in a little closer. He barely moved an inch, still panting like a dopey, happy pooch. "There's a secret doorway in the changing rooms. People go in, and different people come back out."

((Sounds about right,)) Bert said. ((And you witnessed this directly?))

"Yeah, we did." I confirmed.

((Great! One confirmed entrance, assuming we aren't being too paranoid.)) He laughed.

"Very funny…" George muttered under his breath.

Bert continued, ((Good job. That's what we're paying you for. This sort of information is very useful to us.))

Kiani then raised a very important question. "How?"

((How? Ah, yeah, I should explain, huh?)) He chuckled, tail wagging like he was having a wonderful time. ((We have reason to believe that one of the main guys comes down here for the occasional visit.))

"Who's this main guy?" I asked.

((He's a Visser,)) Bert explained. ((That's equivalent to, oh, perhaps a Navy captain. Maybe higher. Either way, Earth is his ship. He's the one keeping all of this going.))

"And he comes here…" Kiani said, pressing a single finger to the table.

((We think so. That's why we're gaining as much information on the base as we can. He spends a lot of time elsewhere, but we know for certain that he comes to the United Kingdom. We suspect that he may travel to California as well, in the US.))

"So why didn't you give morphing powers to some Americans?" George asked. "They probably have a bigger base over there."

"Everything's bigger over there," I uttered. "Cars. Buildings. Stomachs."

Bert answered, ((We won't use them until we know for certain where the main base is. And besides, Americans don't have the attention span. Not any that I've seen.))

"What do you plan to do about this guy?" George asked, referring to the Visser.

((Infiltrate,)) Bert said. ((We're going to get as close as we can, and we're going to delay him at every turn. Big problem is…)) He chuckled. ((He tends to punish those who make delays quite severely. Don't worry, though, that won't be your role. Hopefully, you'll never meet the guy.))