"Invaders From Mars II…"
Summary: David's dream was a premotion but the actual story went a bit differently…
Part II…
"David, you should eat." Dr. Blake eyed her companion in his seat across the dining car table from her. The black sack, carefully folded to seem as much like a simple large bag beside her, out of general sight.
David eyeing his plate of sandwich and fries, shrugging, took a bite.
"It's interesting to experience this sort of food." She noted quietly, taking a mouthful of her own sandwich, keeping her voice low.
"You don't eat? Where you come from?"
"Not in the way you do." She gave him a cautious look. "But we can talk more in our compartment later."
"Compartment? How much did you…Borrow?" he eyed her.
"Our friend could afford it." Smile. "And we need our privacy. At least you should be able to sleep a bit before we get to our destination."
"If the Colonel doesn't…" he began, silencing at her hard look.
"We'll hope our trip goes smoothly." She smiled at him. "No need to worry about the consequences should it not, just now."
…
"Not a sign of them?" Dr. Stuart Kelston, an astronomer in his forties, a tall, well-built man in suit…Rather more fit than the typical image of the cloistered scientist in his lab, though his suit perhaps screamed such…The scientist and close friend Dr. Blake had initially taken David to tell his tale of the repeat landing (well, repeat from his dream) of the Martian saucer ship….Addressed Colonel Bruce Fielding, the newly appointed commander of the government rocket research facility, appointed on the tragic death of General Maxwell, killed by rupture of the control device implanted in his brain, and now commanding the forces attacking the saucer. A handsome officer in his early fifties, his chief vanity a British-style tight mustache, Fielding had been quick to act on learning of the threat, including the strange behavior and death of his commanding officer, and been given full authority from his superiors to act until additional support could arrive.
"Nothing in the area…They must all be in the craft itself, Doctor." The Colonel eyed the hull of the saucer before them. The humanoids fighting his troops having all retreated within.
"Colonel!" a lieutenant leading a team monitoring a large radio and other equipment including a series of radio-connected Geiger counters, called to him. "We have an upsurge in radioactivity and electromagnetic field strength in the immediate area. I believe that ship is preparing to take off!"
"Are all the charges planted and is the artillery in place?" the Colonel eyed him.
"Yes, sir. All teams confirm and the artillery commander says his men are in position to attack."
"Colonel, you can't. They're inside." Dr. Kelston pleaded.
"I'm sorry, Kelston. Unless we can blast our way into that thing, we'll have to use all our forces to stop it from blasting off. I have my orders."
"Well, lets try and blow a hole in the hull." Kelston insisted. "Colonel, we have to try."
"All right, we'll try but if we can't breech that hull, we'll have to fall back and use everything. Clarkston?" the Colonel turned to address a sergeant. "Has Rinaldi's body been secured?"
"Yes, sir. On its way to the surface."
"Colonel?" Kelston began.
"I know…" the Colonel nodded. "Clarkston, we can't be sure even dead they can't use Rinaldi, keep the body under guard. That's all. Masters?" he turned to the lieutenant.
"Yes, sir." Clarkston nodded, saluting and heading off.
"Sir?" Masters eyed him.
"Lets try to breech the hull, here. Get the team up and tell them to use whatever it takes, short of blowing up the tunnels. The rest of us will fall back, pass the order on. Come on, Kelston. We can't do anything until the hull's breeched. There's no use getting killed here."
"Colonel, we can't identify whatever metal or material is in that hull." Masters noted. "I can't guarantee the explosives boys can breech it."
"They did in David's dream." Kelson insisted. "They've got to try, Colonel."
"They will, son." Fielding nodded. "All right, go ahead and send them in, Masters. And you and your men pull back to the entrance."
"I should have watched over them more closely." Kelston noted sadly as Masters issued orders over his radio.
"We thought they were safe, we'd no idea. Don't blame yourself." Fielding told him. "Lets pull back now, everyone and let the men do their work."
"Fall back!" the cry from several points.
"Kelston. We have to drop back. There's nothing else to do." Fielding put a hand on the scientist's shoulder.
"David…He told me his dream came out well, we destroyed the ship, and everyone was saved." Kelston noted.
"Well, lets hope the boy's dream was correct. Come on." Fielding urged. The two joining the stream of men falling back into the tunnels as the explosives team came forward and brought equipment to the hull of the saucer.
…
Mrs. Enid Bordman, a fiftyish widow from Pasadena, California, en route with her young daughter to Chicago to see relations, was a bit perturbed to see the young and lovely brunette woman with what was presumably her boy, a tow-headed kid in jeans and shirt, seated at the dining car in a dress that while rather modern, elegant some would say, and one would suppose, fashionable, in New York or Los Angeles, was clearly slightly torn at the collar and spotted with a bit of grease and/or dirt, as if the woman'd been under her car or crawling through the brush en route to the train. The boy, likewise, while reasonably restrained in his dress, as opposed to his flashy companion, showed signs of wear.
Least such people could do, given they were obviously well-to-do, was to dress up a bit for dining in public.
Horace, God rest his soul, had always been a bit of a bother there, but even he recognized the importance of looking your best in company.
"Mother…" her daughter, a twelve-year-old blonde, tall girl in respectable and quite clean, naturally, simple blue dress, was eyeing the couple as well. "That woman's dress is torn and I think it's dirty in spots. Should she be in here?"
"I suppose she was in a hurry, Gretchen. Though I can't understand people who can't take a moment to prepare themselves to go out in public." Enid noted. "But I don't run the train line."
"Perhaps they're poor." The girl noted. "Though that dress is very elegant."
"It's probably none of our business…Still, seems to me one should take care of such things better."
"Maybe if they're poor, we should offer to fix her dress." Gretchen noted.
"Just leave them be, girl."
"I wonder how old he is…" Gretchen eyed David. "He looks troubled. Do you think they're in trouble?" she eyed her mother. "Maybe they're escaping some terrible trouble?"
"You have too much imagination, girl." Enid frowned. "Perhaps they just don't care enough about their appearance. Or they were in a great hurry to catch this train, if we're charitable."
"It's very mysterious. She's a very beautiful elegant woman…" Gretchen noted. "But he seems a normal boy, though he is handsome. And he does look…Troubled. Don't you think so, Mother?"
"He seems a perfectly normal boy to me. Though his mother or whatever she is could take more care about his appearance. But it's hardly our concern."
"I wonder what sort of trouble they might be in." Gretchen, glancing quickly.
"Never so much trouble one can't stop to take care of one's appearance in public. The country is going to the dogs, as your dear late father used to say."
He used to say a great many things…Gretchen thought. Especially to you…She eyed her mother.
What did he used to call you? Wicked Witch of the West? Though I guess it wasn't always meant as an insult. He did once joke that you could be very wicked at times, and that was why I showed up, she grinned.
"What?" Enid eyed her.
…
"Well, I'll take some coffee, thanks." Dr. Blake told the dining car waitress as the woman waited at their table. "David, sweetheart? Would you like some dessert? I'll pass, must watch my figure a little these days." Smile to the waitress.
"No…" David shook head.
"Well, you should have a glass of milk at least." Blake insisted. He shrugged. "Please, would you bring one?" she eyed the waitress.
"Sure. A glass of milk and a coffee. Be right back." The waitress moved off.
"It really might be good for you to have some dessert, David. You didn't eat much. Are you sure you don't want anything?"
"Yeah." He nodded.
"Well, we'll have our coffee and milk and then go to our compartment. We'll have enough time for you to sleep a bit and we can talk."
"You don't sleep?" he asked.
"Of course I sleep…" smile. "Though I can't allow that tonight, but I will rest myself a bit. As for…" she eyed the sack. "Not the way you do, exactly but all living things need rest."
"We'll talk?" he eyed her.
"Certainly…I know I'm interested in talking with you." Warm smile. "You're quite a remarkable boy." Pausing as the waitress returned with their beverages.
"Thank you so much." Nod to the waitress. "I think that'll be all for us tonight."
David watching as the waitress went away…
"You've been very sensible, David, thank you." Dr. Blake eyed him, sipping at her coffee.
"My that's quite a taste."
"A lot of folks put sugar and cream in it." David noted.
"Yes, but I prefer it black…An old medical school habit." She looked out the window. "Rather a pleasant way to travel, though quite slow." Concentrating. "I've taken some long train rides before, from my home to medical school, then here. Yes, it's very pleasant. How's your milk?"
"Fine."
"That was quite clever how you eluded…Those people at the police station…Polio?" she eyed him.
"That was…"
"Yes, I was complementing the one who thought of it. Polio seems quite a serious disease, I can understand why they quarantine the affected."
"I guess. President Roosevelt had it a long time ago."
"Yes, he was disabled by it…Yes. But the current…President is Eisenhower, yes?"
"Yeah."
"A man who led…Our armies… In the last great war."
"Yeah. My dad said he was a great general. But he was fighting the Nazis."
"And now the…Commies?" she eyed him. "Always at war, aren't we?"
"Korea but that's not a world war."
"I doubt the victims care very much." She noted. "War of the Worlds, that's a story, isn't it? The memory just came to me."
"A book by Mr. Wells. They just made it into a film. I saw it, it was neat."
"Martians invading…" wry smile. "But your people defeated them."
"I guess. I think it was bacteria or bugs or something like that."
"Thank you." Dr. Blake smiled at the returned waitress who'd left a bill.
"Just pay at the counter." The waitress noted.
"Well, it was nice to eat. Are you finished with your milk, David?" Blake asked. "There's no rush."
"Yeah, I'm done." He nodded.
"Well then…Let me pay this and we'll go to our compartment." She rose.
From her table with her mother, Gretchen eyed them. Going back to the seats…? They were moving up the car to the exit, Dr. Blake pausing at the counter as David sighed and looked about.
No, he thought sadly. The people here would believe her, not me. Just have to wait and see.
He looked back impatiently at Dr. Blake and moved by Gretchen and Enid's table.
"Oops. Sorry." Gretchen had carefully shoved her knife to table's edge, pushing it off with a very slight movement.
"Huh?" David looked at the tall blonde girl in pigtails, in simple blue dress.
"Oh, let me get that." He reached down and scooped up the knife.
"Thank you." Gretchen smiled.
"David? I'm ready. Lets get to our compartment." Dr. Blake had reached him, rather quickly after seeing him stand by other people.
"Here." David offered the knife to Gretchen. "Ok." He turned to Dr. Blake.
"Hello." Dr. Blake smiled at Gretchen and then Enid who eyed her carefully.
"Hello." Gretchen nodded. "Your son's a gentleman." She offered quickly.
"Oh? Why thank you." Dr. Blake smiled. "Glad to hear it. Please excuse us, I have to get my boy to bed. Come, David."
"Of course." Enid nodded. "Thank you…David." Gretchen called after him.
"Yeah, sure." He nodded, following Dr. Blake.
"He's very nice." Gretchen smiled to her mother who frowned.
"They can afford a compartment but can't wash up or change their clothes?" Enid shook head sourly.
…
"Our explosives couldn't penetrate the hull…The ship's going to take off." Colonel Fielding noted to Kelston as they stood by the lieutenant manning the radio and scientific equipment, now moved back down the tunnels to the cavern opening. "We'll have to use the artillery."
"David said in his dream we broke in and managed to save them both." Kelston shook head.
"Well, the boy may be clairvoyant but not perfectly so." Fielding noted. "I'm sorry Doctor but we can't let that ship escape."
"If only Rinaldi hadn't killed himself, we might be able to negotiate. Trade the ship's escape for the pair of them."
"No,I couldn't Kelston. It's unfortunate, but…" the Colonel began.
"Colonel! The ship's blasting its way out, with that heat ray of theirs." The lieutenant, listening intently on headphones, cried. The open cavern shaking now. A loud roar from deep within.
"Open fire!" the Colonel commanded, turning to the lieutenant and taking a microphone from him.
"Colonel!" Kelston pleaded.
"It's too late, Kelston! This is Fielding, to all units!" the Colonel told his microphone. "Fire!"
….
…