Author's Note: This chapter contains an attempted sexual assault.

Chapter 29

"Pede poena claudo."

"Punishment comes limping."

-Horace, Odes, III, 2

Sun Lee was still sitting at his computer when his two friends were ready to go.

"Come on, Sun, or we'll miss the bus and be late."

"Just let me check one more thing."

"What? We've already figured out that the tracker stopped moving two days ago. It's in the Middle-East – Iran or somewhere."

"I know, Chen, I just want to see…" he trailed off, pressing the keys on the keyboard.

"The other shift's coming on," said his other friend. "They'll take care of anything. We're going to go to the new bar they opened by Xao Ping's. That chick you like is going to be there. What was her name?"

"Hsui-Hsui," said Sun, without turning from the screen. "Hey, do you guys remember when we got to meet the aliens, a few months ago? They came to our facility and we showed them around? One of them asked me some questions, remember?"

"I was off sick that day," said Chen sullenly, as if this still rankled.

"I remember," said Jiang. "He was talking to you about radio signals."

"Exactly. I remember distinctly something he said – that on their planet they used a special radio frequency that was so high that it required a special receiving device to be able to hear it."

"Yeah, but that was just one of their wacko ideas," said Jiang.

"No, he told me a little about how to make it. It involved parabolic mirrors –"

"Come on, Sun, we can talk about this at the bar," said Chen.

"But what if they are somehow broadcasting to us, a help signal maybe, and we just aren't getting it because we can't receive radio emissions that high?"

"But, that's ridiculous!" said Chen. "I mean, it's interesting and all, but that's just some alien technology. It might have worked fine on their planet, but it won't work here."

"Besides, there's no way you could ever build such a receptor," said Jiang.

"I think I could do it," said Sun.

His two friends laughed. "No way!"

Sun looked stonily at them. "I will do it."

"Fine," they laughed. "We're going to the bar. Let us know when your famous invention is finished." The door shut on this sarcastic remark, but Sun squared his shoulders and went to work.

Rajib proved to be a much harder master than Ibrahim. He took the mattresses away, and left them chained with their hands behind them to the cement wall. He said they would be permitted to eat and drink only when the weapons were finished, and not before; and he humiliated them by forcing them to urinate and defecate in a bucket, for trips to the bathroom were now forbidden. Laufa was forced to attend to the two men whose arms he had broken. Otherwise, he was always chained, along with Marco and Esma, who were taken to the laboratory to work on the weapons.

It had been, thought Dresle, a whole day since they had attempted to escape. She was parched, and wondered how long they had been there. Would the tracker Marco swallowed still be showing their location? It had undoubtedly passed out now and must be in the sewer system; if there was a sewer system down here. It smelled terrible; and she and the others smelled terrible. Her evening dress was ripped and squalid – the others, too, were still in their suits or dresses, and Dresle felt very cold at night without a blanket. She also felt immodest with all the tears and supposed all the men to be leering at her. Esma and Svaltu felt the same way.

They could go for a long time without food, but without water they were soon parched and helpless. Laufa, Marco, and Esma, who were expected to work in the laboratory with their hands bound before them, were always trying to sneak distilled water from bottles or tubes. They complained that they could not work in that environment, but Rajib pushed them even harder. He said if they did not have results by the end of the week, he would shoot one of the companions; and every day following, if they had nothing to show, another Vellorian would die. They had many conversations about how they could give their captors something, since there was no possibility of actually creating antimatter weapons. Sometimes the other scientists heard them talking quietly in English.

"I tell you, there's no way we can get out of here on our own," said Marco in a hushed tone. "The stairways are too confusing, and we could be a mile underground. I have no idea how low it is."

Then the scientists noticed them talking and they focused on their work. One of the scientists was an older man with white hair. He was kinder to them, especially to Esma. Esma noticed this and tried to cultivate a relationship with him, asking him questions about himself and about his work. At first he was hesitant to tell her anything; but finally he admitted to her that he had had a daughter whom Esma reminded him of.

"She did not have your golden hair, of course," he said with a sigh. "But she was beautiful."

"Why – what happened to her?" asked Esma, trying to sound sympathetic.

"Oh, she died… long ago. Long ago now, it seems. She was top in her class at university. She wanted to become a scientist, you see, like me. I made sure she had the opportunity, for I was born without any advantages. My father was … a very radical Muslim, who used to use – more extreme methods of discipline, and sold my sisters off in marriage at a young age. I wanted to give my daughter a chance to do as she wished. She was on her way to class one day when – a bomb blew up the bus she was riding in."

"So what made you join a terrorist group?"

"It was an Israeli bomb that blew up the bus, and I vowed to get even. But I've been almost twenty years here and it's changed so much. Now, there's no way to get out without sacrificing myself and the rest of my family," he added in a whisper.

"I'm sorry," said Esma.

The old doctor managed to sneak her some water occasionally, which she shared with the others when she could. Once he even managed to get her a half a loaf of bread. He insisted she have her hands untied while she worked, and even whispered to Laufa and Marco, "I'm so sorry you are being treated this way – you don't deserve it."

"Do you know how long we will be kept prisoners here, doctor?" Esma asked him one day.

"They say until you've developed the weapons for them."

"But –"

"I know, I know it's impossible with the technology we have now. Better get back to work. I don't want the guards to see us talking."

Dresle was drifting in and out of a tormented sleep, with hazy visions of waterfalls, crisp fresh fruits and icy drinks; but her desperate thirst kept waking her. She looked up as the door opened and Rajib entered with two guards, pushing the bound Laufa, Marco, and Esma before them. It was obviously time for the two hours they were allotted for sleep; but after chaining them to the wall, he did not leave them. Instead he said,

"Well, it appears our famous alien scientists can't even perform the most simple tasks. Where are the weapons we requested, friends?"

Laufa, Marco, and Esma did not answer.

"It appears you need some incentive," continued Rajib. "Kill the girl."

One of the guards grabbed Dresle by the roots of her hair and drew out a long knife from his belt.

"No! Wait! You said you'd give us a week," cried Laufa. "It can't have been more than … a few days down here."

"Down here I control the calendar," said Rajib with a savage smile. "You've been halting this project on purpose, and I see now that there are just too many of you."

"Let me do it," said one of the guards eagerly. He was one of those who had had his arm broken by Laufa. "This bitch deserves a good lesson before she dies."

"Fine," said Rajib. "Do what you like with her, then kill her. Make the others watch."

"No! Stop!" cried Laufa and the others, straining at their bonds. The two guards unlocked Dresle's chains from the wall, but kept her hands bound behind her back.

Dresle had never been so terrified in her life. Death she could have faced, but not this shame. She had been taught self-control, but she screamed at the top of her lungs and struggled as hard as she could despite her tied hands. Her clothes were filthy and ratty, and so they were easy for the men to rip off and then hold her down.

That was when the others finally broke. Even though they were starving and dehydrated, they were still stronger than any man on Earth; and this threat to one of their own drove them nearly to madness. They pulled and strained and put forth all their strength, strength they didn't even know they had, and with a loud snap Darius' chain was broken, then Arjen's, then Laufa's, Christoph's, and Marco's. Dresle was lying on the floor trying to fend off the guards and so could not see all that passed. Darius jumped for Rajib, and a shot rang out, but with a struggle he divested him of his gun. There were screams, the sound of another gun being fired, and a struggle. The guards bending over Dresle looked up to see the commotion, and then they were in the Vellorians' hands. The whole thing took less than five minutes – and the two guards and Rajib lay dead, their heads either smashed into a jelly against the concrete wall or strangled. The Vellorians had not even stopped to pick up any weapons.

Now they did so, however. Christoph felt in Rajib's pockets and found the keys. He unlocked the chains on the three women, while Laufa locked the door so more guards could not enter, for they heard the ruckus and were coming down upon them with wrath.

"There could be hundreds of them down here," said Darius, while Arjen took off his tattered coat and put it around Dresle's nearly naked form. "What are we supposed to do now?"

But Christoph put up a finger to silence them. They all fell silent and listened. There was a booming up ahead and suddenly the ground above them shook.

"Get back! We have to get to the laboratory!" cried Laufa, going through the opposite door, deeper down, the rest following him. Dresle was deeply shaken, so that Svaltu had to support her with her arm.

They met several guards along the way, but shot them before they were even aware that the prisoners were upon them. Finally, they reached the lab, where two of the doctors were still working, one of whom was the old man who had befriended Esma. They did not kill the scientists, however – they had too much respect for that class of people – and instead Darius tied them up and told them to sit against the wall. Laufa went to the table where he usually worked and began to speak in English.

"This is Laufa. We are alive. I repeat, we are all alive. Two of us are wounded. We are in the lowest level, in the laboratory. We have locked ourselves in, but the door cannot hold for long. However, I know the way down the tunnel from the surface and can direct you." He then gave detailed instructions, describing the way that they had tried to escape through the tunnels. He kept repeating this information over and over.

The terrorists tried to get through the door, but each was shot down as soon as he entered the room, for the Vellorians hid behind the tables and equipment. Soon, they stopped trying to enter - there was such an uproar up above with the bombs going off. After about half hour of bombardment, the Vellorians' keen senses could detect a gas leaking down toward the lab. There were gas masks in a box in a corner, and they all put them on.

"Esma!" called the elderly scientist. "Esma, please! Help me! They'll kill me!" he cried as the gas began to fill the room. Esma just looked coldly at him and turned away. They seemed to wait a long time; but finally the lab door burst open and there were dozens of soldiers all wearing gas masks.

"Get down!" they shouted. "Lie down on the ground with your hands over your head!"

They all obeyed, for they had dropped their weapons as soon as they saw their rescuers. The soldiers came over and patted them down, then ascertained the identity of each by taking a full hand print. Then, weak and exhausted, they were allowed to stand, and were half-carried out of that dreadful labyrinth.

Elizabeth had hardly slept since the news of the Vellorians' kidnapping. She had gone back to work after two days at home because she could not stand waiting around for something to happen. She had at first had some hope, seeing the one tracker going astray; but after two to three days and no more news, she started to despair. Going back to work was no better, though. People were either looking at her and talking about her, or coming up to her with sympathetic faces to ask how she was doing. She always replied, "Fine." It was only to Will that she told the truth. The kiss she had given him when he first came, he thankfully didn't mention, and she was embarrassed that she had so let her emotions go. She had suffered so much pain in the past that now she feared to get too close to anyone. She didn't even ask herself if she loved Will; she had let herself get close to Dresle, and now Dresle was gone, maybe dead – just like her parents, just like Maisee.

She had taken to sleeping on the couch with the news on low volume. She only ended up sleeping about two to three hours, and wondered how Dresle could survive on so little rest. While at work, she was constantly checking the news on her handheld.

It was another tormented night. Elizabeth had a bottle of wine out and had already downed most of it; but it only made her feel worse. She was more depressed than before. She shuffled in her slippers to the kitchen to make herself some tea, and when she came back she saw bold headlines:

ALIENS RESCUED

She dropped her tea and ran to turn up the volume. The screen was filled with a picture of the eight Vellorians, in a photo taken at the party the night of their capture. The newscaster's voice filled the apartment.

"This just in – the captured Vellorians who were kidnapped in Moscow eleven days ago have been recovered. All are alive, although they seem to be in poor physical condition and are even now on their way to the hospital.

"They were discovered in some caves hidden underground in the deserts of Iran – the base, it appears, of Al –Jareeb, leader of the terrorist organization The Rage. The terrorist camp was attacked at midnight Moscow time last night, and the Vellorians were found safe down in a lab several hundreds of feet below ground.

"All of them were malnourished and it was clear they were starved and dehydrated, and possibly tortured." There was a shot of the Vellorians being taken from the back of ambulances on stretchers and carried inside. Their clothes were filthy and torn, the remnants of their designer suits and dresses in which they had been kidnapped. "It appears that Marco had been shot in the shoulder and Darius in the leg before they were rescued. The rest of them bore signs of malnutrition and possibly torture, with sores on their bodies, perhaps caused by manacles, which are being treated by antibiotics. They are being administered intravenous vitamins and fluids. No word yet on how long they will remain in the hospital. Now let's move to our correspondent in Beijing. Carrie?"

"Yes, thank you, Harold. I am here in Beijing outside the Asian Coalition's Intelligence Centre, which was responsible for finding the missing aliens. It appears that after the tracker stopped moving, they were at a standstill to get more precise information. That is, until computer agent Sun Lee, aged twenty-one, discovered the solution to finding them. Now heralded as a prodigy, Sun Lee has only been with the A.C. Intelligence Centre for one year, but showed surprising initiative in locating a hither-to unknown radio frequency above the ability of the human ear to hear. He then began to build a device to intercept any possible transmissions which were being sent by the captive aliens. It took him nearly a week to build the device, but at the end found that he could hear everything that was going on in the underground lab. The A.C. soon used this information to discover the exact location of the Vellorians. It appears that Laufa was able to make one of these devices in the laboratory where he was being held, unknown to his captors. Lee, who is unavailable for comment, is being credited with helping to destroy a large terrorist threat in the Middle East. Back to you, Harold."

"Thank you, Carrie. We are informed here that the entire base was destroyed by bombs from above, and all the terrorists in the underground labyrinth captured or killed. The Rage's second and third in command, Ibrahim Adminajab and Rajib Haddad were found dead, but their leader, Al-Jareeb, seems to have escaped."

Just then her phone rang. She jumped, for she had been so absorbed in the news that she had forgotten about the world around her. It was John.

"Hello?"

"Elizabeth! I hope I didn't wake you up! I wanted to tell you that Dresle's safe! The Vellorians have been rescued!"

"I know!" she cried. "I'm watching the news now."

"Thank God! We've been praying," said John.

"So have I," said Elizabeth, and wondered as she spoke. She realized she had been saying little unconscious prayers in her head for the last week. It was the first time she remembered praying since she was in high school.

"Well, I just wanted to make sure you knew. We turned on the TV after dinner and saw it right away. Are you going to be able to see her?"

"I don't think so. They're not going to say what hospital or even what country they're in now. Hopefully, I'll get to see her once she's released. She does have a house here. I don't know what kind of security they'll have now."

"Good. Well, I don't want to keep you from the news. I'll let you go. Love you, Elizabeth."

"Okay. Thanks, John. Bye."

After she hung up with John, she had a strong desire to call Will and let him know – but he was no doubt asleep. She kept watching the news for another hour, which was only a repetition of the same news, then gave in and called Will. He was obviously asleep, because the phone rang four times before he picked it up, and she could see his face peeping out under the covers in the dark.

"Hello?" he said groggily.

"Will! I'm sorry to wake you up."

"Elizabeth?" He sat up a little and put on his glasses which had been resting on the side table. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine – great! I wanted to tell you they've found Dresle and the others – they're all safe!"

Will sat up with interest. Elizabeth could tell he was fully awake now. "Really? How? Where did they find them?"

"Turn on your TV."

Will turned on his own screen and sat and talked with Elizabeth for about an hour, when she hung up because she was falling asleep. It was a relief to sleep at last, unburdened by worry and fear. She only slept a couple of hours when it was time to get up for work; but there was a message on her phone saying that all work had been cancelled that day, as a celebration of the Vellorians' safe recovery. She spent most of the day sleeping. She was so relieved that she slept well, and when she got up around dinner time, began to watch the news again, to see if there was any fresh news.

Will called and they decided to go to dinner, but to Elizabeth's dismay there were dozens of journalists and paparazzi outside her apartment waiting to "interview" her or get her opinion on the recent happenings. She managed to sneak out the back fire exit and meet Will at her favourite Peruvian restaurant to celebrate. They saw some of Will's coworkers there and all sat together and broke out some champagne. The restaurant was packed, as were the streets. There seemed to be fireworks going off somewhere – the whole city was celebrating – had been all day, according to Will. It was probably just an excuse to get off work and to drink, but the people needed no urging.

Once she got back home it was around midnight. The reporters were gone. Now she was too excited to sleep so she turned on the news again.

Over the next few days, more information trickled in. The Vellorians were healing well. Marco and Darius' bullet wounds had already healed and the others were healed of their sore and reinvigorated by food and liquids. Al-Jareeb had still not been caught, but there were rumours that Laufa had met with the leaders of all the world governments and the U.N. and that there would be an announcement by the end of the week.

It was about six days after the rescue that Elizabeth got a call from a number she didn't recognize. Afraid it was the media, she did not pick it up. But when the number called again, two or three times, she felt it must be something important.

"Hello?" she said.

It was Dresle! Elizabeth could see her limpid violet eyes and pale face. "Hi, Elizabeth!" she said, sounding tired. "How are you?"

"I'm fine! How are you?" she asked with concern.

"Much better," said Dresle. "Svaltu said there will be some lingering … psychological trauma. This is the first time they've allowed me to use a phone."

"Where are you?"

"I'm not supposed to say. But they say that soon I can go home."

"Home – you mean –?"

"My house in Oxford," said Dresle."

"That's great! So I'll see you soon?"

Someone said something behind Dresle and she turned back. "I have to go now," she said. "I'll call you when I get to Oxford."

"Okay, bye!"

"Bye!" She hung up.

It was about a week later that Dresle called again to say she was back in Oxford. "You'll have to come out here to my house, though, because of security. They'll send a car to pick you up."

The extra security did not surprise Elizabeth, but she was surprised and a little bit embarrassed by the thorough search they did of her and her belongings when she arrived. (She had made a cherry chocolate cake and brought it with her for Dresle).

"I'm so sorry about the search and everything," said Dresle, when Elizabeth and her cake were finally allowed in the house. "They want to make extra sure nothing happens to us."

Dresle seemed weary beyond a simply physical exhaustion. "Are you all right?" Elizabeth asked concernedly.

"Oh, I'm all right," said Dresle with a heavy sigh. "They've implanted subcutaneous trackers in all of us, which can't be removed. They think they can better watch after us that way."

I wonder if Marco's figured out how to disable those yet, thought Elizabeth, but said nothing. She simply gave her friend a hug, and after a moment, Dresle returned it. Elizabeth never would have dreamed of expressing any kind of physical affection for Dresle before, but she was glad Dresle did not repulse her. "Thank you for the cake," said Dresle.

"Of course! I didn't know what kind of food they'd been feeding you…" Dresle didn't answer. "Would you like a piece now?"

"Oh, no thank you," said Dresle, as if waking from a reverie. "It's just … there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Of course," said Elizabeth, sitting up to listen. "What is it?"

"When I was … in the underground cave, some men tried to – to – defile me."

"Oh my gosh! Are you all right? Did they do anything to you?"

"No, no, they didn't. They didn't have the chance. But it made me think about … some things. I realize I've been such a hypocrite and so self-righteous, just like Svaltu."

"Wait, what? What are you talking about? You're not like Svaltu."

"Do you remember when we were in Beijing, and you asked me if I had any children, and I got – very angry, and yelled at you?"

Elizabeth nodded uncomfortably. She had never brought up that occasion since Dresle had apologized, and felt it was meant to be an unspoken subject between them.

Dresle sighed. "I did have a child."

Elizabeth was so surprised, she couldn't help exclaiming, "You did?"

Dresle nodded. "I never wanted to admit it. I was … assigned to reproduce with a man from my city."

"Did you know him?" asked Elizabeth gently.

Dresle shook her head. "Oh, no. We're assigned based on our genetic attributes. I never saw him again afterwards. He was a … soldier, or a pilot, I think. I don't remember. It was so degrading. I've spent years trying to separate myself from that degradation – of having to meet with him, night after night, and endure – " She broke off.

"What about the child?" asked Elizabeth in a soft voice.

"We don't have anything to do with the children after they're born. They're taken away from us after birth – they belong to the state."

"So you never saw him – or was it her? – again?"

"I don't know if it was a boy or a girl," said Dresle. "They don't tell the birth mothers. They just assign them an official number."

"Well, could you find your child again, through their number?"

"Why should we try?" replied Dresle simply. "We're trained to believe the child is not ours, but the state's, that we have nothing to do with its fate. I think I remember the child's number, though, or can figure it out. We were in the capital city, so that would be number 1. After that would follow the letter of the year. It would have been probably M in your language. And I remember the number. It was the five hundred and fifty-third child born that year in the city. It would have been your age – that is, thirty-two or thirty-three, when we left. Still a child for us. It's dead now, of course."

Elizabeth reached over to take her hand. "I'm so sorry," she said.

"I just wonder – now – what it would have been like to know my child. And to think I treated you so badly –"

"No, no. Just forget it," said Elizabeth. "It's no big deal. I didn't understand those aspects of your culture."

"I've felt so degraded that I wanted to act as if it had never happened. Hearing Darius had had three children at first surprised me, but now I guarantee that each of my compatriots had at least one child."

Elizabeth wanted to offer some comfort, but she did not know what to say. Dresle's child was clearly dead, if hundreds or thousands of years had passed on their planet while they were gone.

"Is it silly for me to get so upset?" She turned to Elizabeth with an earnest look.

"No! Of course not! I know you've been taught that. But you're here now – you'll never have to be degraded ever again. No one can touch you without your permission – in fact, it's illegal. And you can enjoy children now, if you want."

"I did have a fun time with your nephew and nieces," said Dresle.

"Yes. And we'll see them again sometime. I don't suppose you'd be able to adopt, but if you wanted to have children of your own –" She stopped at the look of horror on Dresle's face.

"Oh, no, I could never – never – do that," she said.

"Well, there are other ways. Although I don't know how your body would react to human sperm. I wonder if it's any different… But anyway, you don't have to worry about that ever again. You're perfectly safe. No one can get to you now."

As they sat eating their cake later on, Elizabeth remembered – "The broadcast! It was supposed to be on at three!"

She hurried over to turn on the TV, and Dresle followed. They sat down on the couch. "Do you know what channel it's on?" asked Elizabeth, but it turned out to be on every channel. The broadcast was from the United Nations, where it was still morning. She could see the whole hall filled with the representatives, at least a hundred of them; but the camera focused on the centre, where President Herhandez, Prime Minister Mabel Thatcher, President Zhiang He and the Head of the U.N. Assembly were gathered.

"Why aren't you there, too?" she asked, for she spotted Christoph and Svaltu seated behind Laufa.

Dresle shrugged. "They didn't need me."

"But – do you know what they're going to announce?"

"Oh, yes," she replied (rather uninterestedly).

President He was speaking.

"…Regret deeply that our friends the Vellorians were captured while they were in the care of the Asian Coalition. I want to thank President Hernandez and Prime Minister Thatcher for their help in locating and recovering our friends. I would also like to award Mr. Sun Lee, a member of our Intelligence Task Force and a prodigy in technical knowledge, with the highest award our country can give, for discovering the method of finding the Vellorians, and building the device to locate them."

Everyone clapped as a young, gawky man, no older than twenty, stood up, and shook hands first with the President, and then with Laufa. Then President He said, "We would like also to accept Laufa and his companions' generous offer of endless renewable energy in exchange for nuclear disarmament. It has become clear to us, and to the world, that this is what is necessary, after the villainous deeds of the terrorists calling themselves 'The Rage'."

The Prime Minister followed by announcing that the European Union would also be disarming, and then President Hernandez stood and said the same.

There was a gasp from among the media and audience. The Head of the U.N. assembly stood forward. He was an old, grey-haired man with a wide waist. "I would also like to announce the names of the other nations who have agreed to sign this treaty: Afghanistan, Algeria, Angola, Azerbaijan, Benin, Botswana…"

The list went on. It seemed nearly every small government outside the three world governments wanted to join. Egypt, South Africa, even the ever-independent New Zealand wanted to sign the treaty. It was the most amazing thing Elizabeth had ever seen. The world was united for the first time in Earth's history, and they all pledged together to be at peace.

"I can't believe this," she said.

"I guess our kidnapping was good for something after all," said Dresle. "Svaltu thinks people wouldn't have signed up except for that."

They watched as a ceremonial signing took place.

"Why is Laufa doing this?" Elizabeth asked, turning abruptly to Dresle. Her suspicions were roused again.

Dresle did not look fazed. She shrugged. "He wants to make this world a better place."

"Why?"

Dresle looked at her, and answered simply, "Because this is our home now."