Address criticisms to [xazqrten@cox.net]
******************************
On Babylon 5:
Corwin's parents were waiting to board the shuttle that would take them to
the ship that would return them to Earth. Their son was not there to see them
off, and Corwin's father wasn't exactly disappointed. He was very upset with
his son's attitude toward his unborn child, his grandchild to be. His train of
thought was derailed by Captain Lochley's approach.
"I thought I would stop by and see you off, Colonel Corwin. I'm sorry your
visit wasn't as pleasant as it could have been."
"It wasn't a total loss, Captain," noted Mrs. Corwin. "We got a chance to
have a long conversation with Dr. Balor. She told us her unborn child is a boy.
It'll be our first grandson. She is a very sweet young woman."
"I'll let you know, Colonel, how things work out with David's investigation.
Hopefully, it can be worked through."
In a bitter tone of voice, Colonel Corwin replied, "If he worked for me,
Captain Lochley, he'd have been history when I found out about his involvement
with the DTGT freaks."
"Fortunately for him, he works for me, Sir. I'm sorry about the situation
between him and Dr. Balor. You have reason to be really angry with him. I don't
have the luxury of doing that."
"We offered to take care of the child after he is born, but Dr. Balor
insisted that he would be a telepath. She said we didn't understand the kind of
pain we would be letting ourselves be subjected to, even though the Psi Corps
is gone. As it is, we won't be getting much information about him after the
Diamond fellow picks him up," added Mrs. Corwin.
"If you'll give me an address where you can be reached on Earth, I'll try to
convince Diamond to have you kept informed of the baby's health and well being."
******************************
In the precinct, one week later:
Justine Johnson had just sat down at her desk. As she waited for the
computer to warm up, she saw Lt. Kelly, flanked by two nondescript men,
approaching her desk. She ignored their approach until Kelly addressed
her. "Officer Johnson, these two men are from Earthforce security. They want to
talk to you."
"Earthforce security. Is that military intelligence?"
"We need to discuss some things with you, Officer Johnson," said one of the
two men.
"The last time I checked, I was a civilian. Unless you have a warrant for my
arrest, we have nothing to talk about," responded Johnson, evenly.
"Justine, cooperate with them. It will make things go a lot easier," said
Kelly.
"Have you thoroughly checked out their purported credentials, Lt.?"
"I received a call from the chief concerning them."
"Not good enough, Lt. Not after last week," Johnson continued to use an even
monotone voice.
"We have the approval of your Chief of Police, Officer Johnson. We'd rather
make this as easy as possible," said the second man, obviously the older of the
two. He was probably the senior man, too. She thought to herself.
"Last week, I let myself be ordered around by someone approved by the chief.
He had credentials that we never did a thorough check on either. I almost got
killed because of it. So, if you don't mind, I want to have your credentials
checked out very thoroughly by my friend in forensics, or I won't give you the
time of day. Do I make myself clear? Either that or you get a damned arrest
warrant. Now, if you don't mind, I have several cases I need to work on."
The finality of Johnson's tone told the two men the officer would not be
cooperative. They didn't like the idea of having someone prying into their
credentials, but they couldn't see an easy way out of the situation. They had
been checked out before, and no one had ever found anything awry, but there was
always a first time. Johnson felt a itchy tingling and realized that one or
both of the men were telepaths, and were trying to scan her. She immediately
began to think of how badly she had to use the bathroom. She also began to
concentrate on incidents of a case she had made last year and comparing it with
the ones she was writing up now. The tingling sensation quickly stopped.
The two men gave Johnson their credentials and were led off to one of the
precincts interrogation rooms. Since the men hadn't been wearing gloves there
should be both fingerprints and body oils on their ID cards. Johnson gave her
friend the ID cards, and also told him her suspicions about them being
telepaths. They decided on a course of action that could cost them their jobs
and jail time, but their curiosity about what could interest anyone enough to
send in clandestine telepaths in an illegal operation decided for them. Johnson
headed back to her desk.
At her desk, Johnson called her supervisor in her real headquarters, the
internal affairs department of the California State Police, and informed her of
what was transpiring. Her supervisor recommended a course of action that could
quite possible expose her for who she really was to her fellow workers. Johnson
who was on personal loan to the director of the San Francisco Police Department
of internal affairs, had no way of knowing that she had been monitored for
almost three days, ever since Major Brown's people had identified her from her
picture in the surveillance videos from the Nevada military base. The
monitoring resulted in various actions being set in motion by Major Brown's
people. Lt. Kelly was going to be mad as hell, but letting him know what was
afoot would only uselessly endanger his career.
*******************************
An hour later in the precinct:
A half an hour before Justine entered the interrogation room, coffee and
doughnuts and scones had been delivered from the coffee shop down the street
from the precinct. Entering the room, Justine said, "I apologize for the delay,
gentlemen, but it was necessary for me to prepare myself. You men haven't
introduced yourselves, yet. However, I don't think it's necessary."
"Would you care to explain that, Office Johnson?" asked the younger man,
identified on his identity card as Raymond Blair.
"I'm sure the names on your identification cards bear no resemblance to your
birth names, whatever they may be," replied Johnson.
"You paint with a wide brush, Officer," commented the other man, his name
supposedly was Oliver Williams.
"That may be, but let's examine the facts as I know them. My partner and I
were involved in the arrest of Lyta Alexander. Three days later we take her to
the airport. The woman is so full of drugs she is comatose. My partner
accompanies her on the plane. The next morning, I learn that there was an
accident at a military base in Nevada. The man running the show, when we do a
later background check, doesn't seem to even exist. My partner has been missing
for a week, and we don't have any idea where he is. Lo and behold! You two show
up here and get in my face. Since the only thing I've been involved in of any
import recently has happened in the last week, I have to believe you are
chasing information about the military base incident. How am I doing so far?"
"Why did you fixate on the Alexander woman and the base incident, Officer
Johnson?" asked Williams.
"Like I just said, those are the only things in the last couple of months
that involved me in any way that have had any importance to anyone that I can
think of. Several months ago, my partner and I were given instructions to
arrest the Alexander woman. The reason given for her arrest was an outstanding
warrant left over from The Telepath War. I found it ludicrous that two homicide
officers would be pulled off their regular duties and assigned to such a
mundane task."
"We have reason to believe that you actually accompanied the Alexander woman
to the military base, Officer Johnson. Why do you deny the fact?" demanded
Blair.
"Why did you conceal the fact that one or both of you are telepaths, Mr.
Blair, or whatever your name is?" shot back Johnson.
"What makes you think either of us are telepaths?" asked Williams.
"I can feel it when a telepath attempts to scan me. No, I'm not even a
latent telepath, but I get a buzzy feeling in my head when one of you scans me.
That makes at least one of you guilty of a major misdemeanor, if not an
outright felony."
The two men looked at one another. Justine continued, "Even if you scan me,
it won't do you any good. You're locked in this room with me, and there are
people on their way, who know how to handle your kind. Enjoy what you learn,
while you can."
Williams tried to open the door and sure enough, it was locked. "You people
are making a big mistake, Officer Johnson."
"You two clowns made the mistake of coming in here like gang-busters and
then scanning me while I sat at my desk. If you hadn't done that, and if we
hadn't found some very interesting records manipulated, you might have been
successful."
Blair sneered and said, "We're both P-12s. You're going to lose some people
trying to take us down. Our employer will see that you pay for this."
"I don't think so, Mr. Blair. If you will note, the surveillance camera is
off. The cameras in the outer areas are also experiencing technical
difficulties."
The phone on the table rang. "That's my cue, gentlemen. They'll be
flooding this room with gas in a few moments." Johnson barely finished her
sentence before she collapsed to the floor, unconscious. The two telepaths
collapsed less than five seconds later.
A few minutes later, the room door opened and a man entered wearing a gas
mask to protect himself from any remnants of the gas that flooded the room. He
gave both the telepaths large injections of the drug that would rob them of
their psi abilities. Another man entered and carried Justine from the room. It
would be several hours before she would regain consciousness, and she would
have one massive headache. That would be the end of her ordeal. The ordeal for
the two telepaths would only be starting. She would never learn their ultimate
fate. The records would show that they arrived, questioned her and departed.
The surveillance cameras being offline would prevent anyone from knowing how
they really left. The other personnel who had been witness to their departure
were told that they had been caught conducting unauthorized psi scans. The
general feeling toward telepaths would keep anyone from telling about it. As
far as the other personnel were concerned, the bastards were only getting what
they deserved.
******************************
In an interrogation room, somewhere on Earth:
"Ah, Mr. Williams and Mr. Blair. I see you are finally rejoining us. I hope
you enjoyed your little nap." This was said by a nondescript man of
indeterminate age, whose only distinguishing features were a cold smile and
graying hair.
The first thing Williams and Blair became aware of after the man's voice was
the fact that they no longer had use of their psi abilities. It could only mean
that they had been given the sleeper drugs while they had been unconscious.
They soon discovered that their suicide capsules had been taken from them. They
were going to be interrogated whether they liked it or not. The thought then
occurred to them that they would not get out of the situation alive.
"If you have any questions, please feel free to ask them," said the man. "By
the way, my name is Paul. We’re going to be working together for the immediate
future."
Giving Paul's last statement some thought, Williams inquired, "Where are we?"
"On Earth, of course," replied Paul.
"I mean where on Earth are we?"
"Actually, we're about three hundred meters beneath the surface to be exact."
The answer told both telepaths that this would be the end of the road for
them.
"What do you want from us?" asked Blair.
"I'm glad you asked," replied Paul. "For starters, just who do you work for?"
"You mean, you don't know?" asked Blair.
"I didn't say that, Mr. Blair. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.
The choice is yours, gentlemen. Take my word for it. You won't like the hard
way. Also, I hope you realize that escape or rescue is highly unlikely. I'd say
it's impossible, but then, nothing's impossible."
"When does the torture begin?" asked Blair.
Paul looked at him with raised eyebrows and said flatly, "There's not going
to be any torture, Mr. Blair. Between drugs and a few telepaths, we will get
everything you have out of you. We'll interrogate you, but we won't torture
you."
The cold matter-of-fact delivery of the statement, and the way the statement
was worded left both men no doubt they had just heard their death sentences. It
caused both men's blood temperature to drop until it felt icy in the room. Both
of them knew what they had done to others, and that they had used torture in
their efforts. It hadn't been necessary, but they had enjoyed it. What might be
done to them when that bit of information was discovered caused the chill they
felt to grow even colder.
******************************
In the Precinct:
Officer Justine Johnson slowly returned to consciousness to find herself
with a throbbing headache and lying on the couch in Lt. Kelly's office.
"Welcome back, Justine," said Kelly. "How do you feel?"
With her head feeling like it would explode, Johnson shot back, "With my
fingers."
Kelly chuckled. "I'm sorry. I know how you feel. I got a taste of that stuff
in a training class I attended a couple of years ago. No, I don't have a new
head you can borrow."
"I take it, we got rid of that trash."
"Yes. The people who removed them are apparently part of military
intelligence, if you believe their IDs."
"I don't suppose we had time to check any of them out, did we?"
"We checked the guy in charge. He's a major in Earthforce, and his ID did
check out. So, I think we can assume we won't hear from those two again. Also,
the major told me you're very lucky they were monitoring your phone lines."
Still trying to shake off the effects of the knock-out gas, Johnson
asked, "Why am I lucky?"
"The major had a satellite photograph of you, Pat, the Alexander woman and
that fellow Frank Dorsh. It shows all of you getting ready to enter the main
facility at the Nevada site. The major also brought up a subject that you and
I had overlooked."
"What did we overlook?"
"You weren't part of their group. The major has no doubts that you wouldn't
have left that place alive. He also believes that the two telepaths he took
away, given the opportunity, would have tortured, questioned and then killed
you. You would simply have disappeared. So, in that respect, I guess you are
very lucky."
"Wasn't he even curious about how I got out of there?"
"I asked him just that. He said he already knew. He refused to elaborate."
"That lends credence that he is who he said he was."
"I wonder how he knew. I mean you have to wonder if they had the place
bugged."
"I wouldn't be surprised by anything at this point, Lt. Kelly."
******************************
At Maya's school on Glenthor:
It was late Sunday afternoon on the Earth standard calendar. Lyta was
sitting in Maya's and Sila's room. She was spending the last few minutes with
her daughter and her friend. She had hugged both children and was looking Maya
in the eyes.
"I have a job to do, sweetheart. It's going to take me six months or so."
"That's a half a year, mom. Why does it have to be you?"
"It requires talents that only I have, and no, I'm not going to tell you
what it is."
"You don't seem to be too happy about it."
With a distant look in her eyes, Lyta replied, "No, I'm not. It has to be
done, and I'm the only one who can do it. If you really have to talk with me,
I'll be able to receive and return calls to you."
The dorm mother made an appearance, and asked it they had enjoyed their
weekend.
Maya pulled out several data crystals. "We have video, Ms. Fakl. We will
share it after my mom leaves", said Maya enthusiastically.
Lyta hugged and kissed Maya one last time then took her leave.
After Lyta had left, Ms. Fakl said, "Your mother seems like an interesting
person, Maya."
"Are we the only aliens you have ever met, Ms. Fakl?"
"Yes, you are. Somehow in spite of your obviously different appearance, you
don't seem alien."
"That's only because you have been around me for a couple of months. Are you
ready to watch the videos?"
******************************
Somewhere in hyperspace:
Lyta was relaxing in the pilots seat of her shuttle. She was trying to
mentally develop a plan of action to deal with the Slorian problem. The
quickest, easiest and cleanest method from her point of view was to simply
exterminate the entire species. Since the Slorians had not yet spread beyond
their home planet, it would be a simple job. She could get all of them at one
fell swoop. As she thought over several alternatives, she came to the
conclusion that the best approach would be to kill all the people involved with
the weapons and associated development. If she could destroy the society's
infrastructure, maybe they would have to abandon their long term plans for a
century or two. It wasn't enough time for evolution to allow the species to
make even the tiniest developmental advancement, but it would buy her more time
to come up with a permanent solution, if that was even possible.
Her comm system chirped to let her know she had an incoming message. She
enabled the reception.
"Hello. Lyta. I see that you are on your way. If I can be of any help...,"
Draal's voice intoned from the speaker.
"If you have any ideas, I'm all ears, Draal. Keep in mind, I have no desire
to exterminate them."
"You might not have the luxury of choices, Lyta."
"I refuse to accept that. There has to be another way. If they're to be
destroyed, the IA will have to do it."
"If the IA does it, Lyta, they will have no choice but to use mass drivers."
"I'm going to land on the planet and spend some time amongst the population.
It'll take some time, but I'll learn who is in charge and go from there. I have
a few tricks for gathering information that I haven't had occasion to use yet.
I'll get back to you when I've made up my mind about a plan."
****************************
In the main cafeteria of Edgars Industries:
Beverly Wiseman and Alice Lowell were sharing a table for lunch. As per
Beverly's refusing to talk shop on her own time, she considered her lunch time
her time, the two women were talking about their families. Alice had been
pointing out the advantages that Beverly would be able to provide with the
salary increase that came with her new position. Beverly was explaining how
much harder it was going to be to find someone she would consider spending time
with because of that same change in her status.
"I don't think your new position will change your chances of finding someone
one bit," commented Alice. "You were unapproachable before the promotion."
"I never felt unapproachable. I admit I haven't dressed in a manner
calculated to attract men, but I've never told any of them to get lost out of
hand," replied Beverly.
"How many men have tried to make a date with you since you started working
here?"
Beverly never hesitated with her response. "None. Absolutely none. For that
matter neither has anyone outside the company."
"That should tell you something. I bet I can ask every other unmarried woman
in the company and not get a response like that one."
"Do you think changing the way I dress might help?"
"It certainly can't hurt, and it's the easiest thing to change."
"I keep thinking that every man my age will be interested until he learns
about the twins. Then he'll vanish faster than an ice cube in a sunspot."
They were about a third of the way through lunch when Kelly Benton, with Bob
Bryson trailing close behind, came up to their table carrying food trays.
"Mind if we share your table, ladies?" Inquired Benton.
"Only if you promise to not talk shop," responded Alice.
Benton placed his tray on the table. "Deal," he said.
"That goes for you, too, Bob," noted Alice.
Beverly continued to eat and said nothing. She decided to let the men talk
first.
"What were you women discussing?" asked Benton.
"Men, or the lack of, in Beverly's social life," replied Alice.
"I can't think of one reason why she should have difficulty in that area,"
said Bryson.
"I told her it's probably the way she dresses," replied Alice.
"I accept that as a possibility," said Beverly. "However, I'm not about to
change my wardrobe until I wear out what I already have."
"We think her twins are another reason men aren't interested in her. Very
few of them want a ready-made family," commented Alice.
"I don't think all of that is true, Alice," responded Bryson. "Some men may
find that situation more comfortable than you might believe."
"Why don't you date, Bob?" asked Alice.
All three of his associates looked at him expectantly.
"If you had asked me that question before I met Lyta Alexander, I'm not sure
what the answer would have been, but I think 'none of your business' would have
figured prominently in it."
"And now?" queried Alice.
"I don't have a good answer now. As a matter of fact, I've been thinking
that I should be getting out and making an attempt to rectify that situation."
"I'm sure you won't have too much trouble finding someone, Bob," stated
Alice.
"Beverly, what was with the dress you were wearing Friday night?" asked
Benton. "I've never seen you in a dress before that."
"It's a special events only dress, Mr. Benton. My late husband bought it for
me when I earned my first advanced degree. I wore it that night, and we ended
up making mad passionate love all night. The next time I wore it was when we
celebrated my second advanced degree. Like the first time, we again made mad
passionate love all night. I figured that was when I became pregnant with my
twins. Last Friday night was only the third time I've ever worn that outfit.
Unfortunately, nobody made mad passionate love to me then. I think I'll retire
it and not wear it again. I really don't see myself getting involved with
anyone in the future. Why should I? I have two wonderful children. I have a
good income. I don't have to worry about a wandering husband. If I want any
more children, there is always artificial insemination. I really don't have any
need for a man in my life."
Benton and Howell watched Bryson's face as Beverly made her last statement.
He never changed expression, but his eyes showed disappointment when she spoke.
Beverly had been looking at Alice, and didn't see the look in Bryson's eyes
when she talked.
"That's a pretty heavy statement, Beverly," noted Benton.
"I know, but it's true. The only thing unmarried men seem to want these days
is a quick roll in the sack. No thank you, I'm not interested. As for married
men, I don't even think about them."
Alice checked her watch. "It's time I got back to work. Thanks for the
conversation, Beverly, guys."
"How about you, Beverly?" asked Benton.
"I have an appointment with the personnel director in about ten minutes. I
have just enough time to finish my coffee before I have to run."
Bryson was just finishing his sandwich and juice. He looked at Beverly and
said, "I have some business over there, too. If you will give me a minute to
finish, I'll walk over there with you."
Benton coughed and choked on his drink. He apologized and explained that it
had gone down the wrong way.
A few minutes later, Beverly was on her way to see the personnel director
with Bob Bryson walking by her side.
"Were you telling the truth about your special dress?" he asked.
Beverly looked at him and smiled widely. "Of course," she responded. Then
she added, "However, that was in the past. It's not an issue today. I have a
new reality now."
Even under the very loose clothing, due to her movements as they walked, Bob
Bryson could see brief outlines of her bulges and curves, now that he knew what
to look for, thanks to the Friday night dinner at Michael's home. His pulse
kicked up a number of beats as being very near her allowed the fragrance of her
perfume, muted as it was, to enter his nostrils. By the time they parted
company five minutes later Bryson was becoming aroused. As far as he could
determine, Beverly was apparently unaware of the effect she was having on him.
******************************
In a high security facility somewhere on the North American continent:
"Good morning, gentlemen. It's time to get the show on the road. I'm
expected to have something that CJCS can use to brief the president when I get
back to headquarters. Major Brown, it's your show," said General Sanchez.
Major Brown stood at his seat and said, "This meeting is for the purpose of
trying to see where we are in understanding what actually happened at Nevada
Facility Number Four. Ostensibly, it was an accidental detonation of a two-
megaton thermonuclear device, except that it would take at least a twenty-
megaton device to make a hole five kilometers in diameter and one kilometer
deep. Doctor Haley, I'm going to let you be first."
A middle-aged civilian stood and asked that the room lighting be lowered. A
projection screen was also lowered. The first of a number of images appeared on
he screen.
"Gentlemen, I'm Doctor Haley, of the Nuclear Regulatory Board. We were
hastily brought in to do a survey of the site pictured on the screen, Nevada
Facility Number Four, or rather the hole in the ground where it used to be."
Subdued chuckles accompanied his description.
Dr. Haley continued. "From calculations we made using accurate measurements,
taken from survey satellites and a low level aerial photographic fly-by, we
determined it would have required at least a twenty-eight megaton weapon to do
this much damage. We don't have anything like that in the EA arsenal. Whatever
was used, it wasn't one of our nukes, unless someone has discovered a method of
altering the yield of such a device. At present, we don't have that capability,
without completely remanufacturing the entire weapon. We also made extensive
measurements of the radiation levels around the site and for twenty-five
kilometers downwind of it. The radiation levels we measured are consistent with
a one-megaton device. With the levels we measured, it could not have possibly
been any larger. We took samples of the fused material at various points around
the periphery of the site. It is still too hot to go down into the crater.
However, the laboratory analysis of the samples indicates temperatures much
higher than one would expect from a ordinary thermonuclear device were present
during the detonation." As he talked, Dr. Haley showed different pictures to
visually aid his exposition. He mentally noted that Sanchez had raised his hand
immediately after he had said 'one-megaton', and he knew what the question
would be.
"Dr. Haley. The device installed at the site was of two-megaton yield, yet
you say you only found radiation levels commensurate with a one-megaton device.
Can you explain the apparent discrepancy?" asked Sanchez.
"No, we can't, general. However, we have a possible explanation. The problem
is it's going to sound like something out of science fiction."
"Please, elaborate, Dr. Haley," requested Sanchez.
Another picture appeared on the screen. "This is the physical layout of a
thermonuclear device. The only way to increase its yield is to increase the
amount of material in its core. One of the ways we monitor these weapons is to
measure the radiation level at the outer case of the device. If it's a certain
size we get a certain reading. If you increase its yield by increasing the
material in its core, there is a corresponding increase in the reference
reading at the outer part of its case. This is how we double check a device to
insure that its actual yield matches what is stamped in its casing. It makes it
very difficult, although not totally impossible, to substitute a larger or
smaller device for what is stamped in its case."
"That's all fine and good, Dr. Haley. Since we don't manufacture twenty-
eight megaton devices, just how did one get detonated," insisted Sanchez.
"To increase a devices yield, and at the same time reduce its radiation
output is beyond Earth science, plain and simple. The only way to do it would
be to remove some of its radioactive core and substitute something else. We
have theorized that it could be done if you could somehow increase the atomic
mass of some of the center core material by at least a factor of two. The
problem is that neither Earth science nor the science of the other races with
which we do business can do it either, not even the Minbari. We consulted them
and they laughed at our theory. Even the scientist we were allowed to consult
with doesn't have any other explanation. At present, it's simply not
scientifically possible."
"Dr. Haley, I don't doubt you, your people nor the Minbari scientist with
whom you consulted, but I have a big hole in the Nevada landscape, a large
number of dead people and no reasonable way to explain it. I don't think either
JCS or the President is going to accept that as an answer," said Sanchez.
"I sorry, general. You asked us to do a job for you. We've done what you
asked, except for some more routine lab work. If you don't like my answers, I'm
afraid you're going to have to ask different questions."
"I understand, doctor. I don't like it, but I understand it. We have some
other unrelated matters to discuss. You are excused, and if you learn anything
else about the situation, please keep Major Brown informed. He is the lead man
on this."
Dr. Haley had just left when a first lieutenant at the end of the table
asked, "What does he really know about thermonuclear weapons, general. He's a
bureaucrat."
Major Brown spoke up. "He worked for about ten years designing thermonuclear
weapons, lieutenant. He's an expert on the subject. Do you by chance have an
explanation for what happened in Nevada?"
"No sir."
"I'm going to show you some other pictures and videos. Even though some of
what you are going to learn is unclassified, some parts are top secret, need to
know only. You will not discuss any of it where anyone not directly working on
this project might overhear you."
Major Brown started the uncut, unedited video of Lyta's situation in the
half hour that led up to the destruction of Nevada Facility Number four.
"Pay close attention to everything you're going to see. It's all real,
nothing's been faked. Write down your questions. We have a number of videos and
pictures. I want questions, theories or anything else you think might be
pertinent."
For the next hour the people attending the meeting watched videos and looked
at photographs then they broke for coffee and visits to the bathroom.
Sanchez headed for the coffee mess with Major Brown close behind. "What do
you think so far, major?"
"I'm writing my questions down just like everyone else, general. Some of
these videos are absolutely unbelievable. They shot her with bullets and ppg
pulses and then essentially butchered her. What does it take to kill her,
anyway?"
"What do I look like, major, information central? I have no idea what it
would take to kill her. I don't think I really want to know."
"Off topic, general, but what are we going to do with the telepath, Charles
Wayne. You know he's involved with some of our most sensitive projects. You
also know he is a citizen of a world that isn't aligned with the EA."
"For your information, Major Brown, his boss is the woman we have been
talking about. Any harm to him, even something that looks like an accident,
will bring her looking for explanations. Believe me when I say that if she even
thinks our department was in any way involved, she will mind-rip everyone in
the department until she learns who gave the order, and who they gave it to.
Those people will wish their great-grandparents had died at birth. I suggest
you make sure he stays in the peak of health."
"I didn't know he actually worked for her. I thought he worked for the
Glenthorian government."
"He does, and every other telepath that works for them is also under her
direct control. She is the master head-knocker of the telepaths on that world.
I think the people who were killed in Nevada were people who couldn't be
touched by our justice system. If that's the case, you have good reason not to
want to be on her hit list."
Everyone was back in the meeting room and the videos were about to
resume. "These videos are from the investigation into the attack on the EAS
Zeus several years ago. Once again, I remind you that what you are watching is
real. None of it is faked, and it is also classified top secret, eyes only. If
we don't finish before lunch, we will save the Babylon 5 videos for this
afternoon. I want them run without interruption," explained Sanchez.
It was just after lunch and the members of the meeting were finding their
way back to their seats. A few minutes after the last of the members had taken
their seat, Sanchez asked, "How many of you have ever been directly involved
with a P-12 telepath?"
Everyone at the table raised their hands. Sanchez looked around and
smiled. "What I mean is, how many of you have ever had any dealings on a
personal level with a P-12. How many of you have ever been scanned or anything
like that?"
This time there were no hands in the air. "I didn't think so." Saying that
he raised his hand. "Well I have had a personal experience with a telepath and
she was much more powerful than any P-12. Actually, all of you have as of now.
While you were at lunch I asked Charles Wayne to help me with a demonstration.
As some of you know, he is a former psi cop and is presently helping out on a
couple of projects we have in progress."
"What kind of help is he providing on the presentation, general?" asked
Major Brown.
"It's simple really. He's going to come into this room, and none of you are
going to notice him when he does."
This statement elicited amused laughter. "Exactly when is this demonstration
going to begin, general?"
"It's already happening, Lt. Meyers. Mr. Wayne is here, and no one has
noticed," replied Sanchez.
"Nothing personal, general, but that's a load of bull. There's no way he
could be in this room without at least one of us noticing him."
"Charles, let them see you."
In the corner behind the right side of Sanchez's chair, Charles Wayne seemed
to appear out of nowhere. There was a collective gasp from the meeting members.
"What you have experienced is a technique that was taught to all Psi Corps
members of the rating P-10 and above. Lower rated telepaths couldn't execute it
effectively," explained Sanchez. "Remember, the Alexander woman is many times
more powerful than Charles is. Thank you for the demonstration, Charles. You're
free to return to your work."
Charles Wayne said nothing as he left the room.
"General Sanchez, I'd like to apologize for talking out of my ass," said Lt.
Meyers.
Sanchez smiled. "No offense taken, Lt. Meyers. I hope all of you will keep
this little demonstration in mind when you are formulating any theories you
might want to put forth in our efforts. Keep in mind that things may not always
be what they seem. I will be honest with you when any of what we see is in
question."
The lights were lowered and the Babylon 5 videos began. The videos included
the videos made of the tests on Lyta's heavy metal project. It turned out that
there was an EA intelligence agent clandestinely assigned to the station. He
had transmitted the video images on an encrypted channel.
******************************
It was 1800 hours, the videos had long ago finished running, and Major Brown
put up a number of pictures
"Gentlemen, these pictures are of some of the people who were killed in the
Nevada incident. So far we have identified a large number of heads of
companies, suspected heads of crime organizations and a number of suspected
collaborators from Clark's regime. Nothing has ever been proven against these
people. For what it's worth, they were beyond the reach of the law. Many law
enforcement organizations would have given almost anything to be able to bring
them to trial."
"Maybe that's your answer," said Lt. Meyers. "The Alexander woman had some
people she wanted to make go away. She decides to do the police a favor."
"Is that your theory, lt.?"
"Let's face it, major. She can't possible be human, no matter how pretty she
is. If we accept that she isn't human then we're allowed to believe she could
have pulled this off. We saw her and that other woman vanish from the base just
before it was destroyed. Can we assume she survived the explosion?"
"Since I've met the woman who disappeared with her, I think it's safe to
assume she wasn't there when it went up," commented Brown.
The group members began discussing the written questions that had been
presented to them. There were several theories about what might have happened
at the Nevada site. The one getting the most attention was one accepting that
somehow Lyta had altered the self-destruct device and that she was responsible
for the event. It was also agreed that there was nothing anyone could do about
it.
"Then maybe Dr. Haley's explanation isn't science fiction after all. We
don't know her capabilities, but the other data we have seen today surely makes
me want to accept it," said a Lt. Col., sitting next to Lt. Meyers.
"Don's right," said another Lt. Col. "Everything we've seen here today,
along with General Sanchez's experience with her, seems to support the theory
that Lyta Alexander destroyed the base, and used it to take out a load of bad
guys who thought they were above the law. Hell, General Sanchez, we can give
that scenario to JCS and the President. We can manufacture a few items that
will prove to the press that we had a nuke mislabeled off-world and that they
got mixed up. We show that them the mix-up occurred during the Clark regime."
The only remaining problem from General Sanchez's position was how to make
the explanation palatable to the JCS and the President. They weren't going to
like that there wasn't much they could go public with.
"Col. Nelson is right. We give JCS and the President the truth as we
understand it. We give everyone else the explanation that Major Brown's people
discover," responded Sanchez. "You have your marching orders, Major Brown. Any
questions?"
"No sir, general. Give me a week. I still want any ideas that anyone here
has. You never know what works best until you try it." Major Brown was
determined to come up with an explanation that would fit the publicly known
facts, even if he had to totally invent it.
After the other members had called it a night, Major Brown took General
Sanchez aside. "General, I'd like permission to interview that Detective
Johnson. I talked with her supervisor, but I'd really like to hear her story."
"So would I, major. So would I. I think we might be able to swing it by this
time next week."
"I was thinking sooner than that, sir. I think she might give us some
insight that could help me get a plausible scenario ready for presentation to
our friends in Earthdome."
"I'll let you know tomorrow before noon, major."
Sanchez ended the meeting. He felt better than he had for the last week.
******************************
Somewhere in Hyperspace:
Lyta had been in hyperspace for three days now, and she had been pondering
how to take down a mountain range without destroying the whole planet's
population. No matter how many scenarios she ran through her mind, she kept
coming to the same conclusion. Whatever she did, it was most likely going to
kill a large portion of Slor's population. It didn't seem that it could be
avoided. If she found what she expected to find, she would not only have to
destroy the weapons and their creators completely, she would have to destroy
their ability to recover the technology for maybe a thousand years to come. She
would literally have to bomb them back into the stone age, and she had to do it
without exterminating them. She had never felt so completely alone before in
her entire life.
She had several ideas, so she decided to test the one that looked the most
promising. She let her senses expand until she felt a gravitational shift that
possibly indicated the presence of a solar system. She dropped her shuttle out
of hyperspace and found herself less than a million kilometers from a gas giant
planet that had several dozen moons. The planet was many times larger than
Jupiter, it was almost a small star in its own right, and had at least a dozen
moons at least a hundred kilometers in diameter. [Perfect testing ground, and
no one within at least fifty light years,] she thought.
In less than an hour, she had found a very small asteroid, just over two
meters in length and one meter in diameter. It was almost solid iron. She
managed to get it into the shuttle's airlock. Using her telekinetic abilities
she quickly reduced to small pieces. Taking several of the pieces she moved
back into the passenger area of the shuttle and relaxed on one of the bunks.
Less than two hours later she had several components arranged on the floor
of the shuttle. Carefully, she carried the components into the shuttle's flight
cabin area. Then she keyed in the codes to call Draal.
"What can I do for you, Lyta?" asked the image on her communications display.
"I'm looking for your opinion on my new toy." She held the pieces, one at a
time, in the viewing area of the video unit.
"They look very pretty. They also look like they were manufactured in a
first class machine shop."
"It just goes to show you what you can do when you put your mind to it."
"What are they for?"
"They are the parts of the prototype of my mountain reducers."
"Mountain reducers?"
"Umm, yes. Let me put it together." She moved the pieces into position. The
zero gravity of the shuttle allowed the pieces to remain suspended in the air
in spite of their mass. She finished putting the pieces together until she was
holding a ball about twenty centimeters in diameter. "It would weigh about
fifty kilograms in a one gravity environment, Draal."
"How does it work?"
"The center material is a super heavy non-fissionable metal, or at least it
will be when I finish transforming it. It is suspended in the center of the
device. A material that can generate a wholly contained small jump point that
is surrounded by a slightly larger shell of the same material surrounds it.
Actually, there are two materials involved, but they must be kept separated
until it is ready to do its thing. The outer case is of the same material I
made back on Babylon 5. It will slow down the expansion of the outer jump point
long enough for the inner one to come in contact with it. It will also contain
the explosion until the energy release from the jump points crushes the
material in the central core. Then all hell breaks lose. I won't know how
effective it is until I test it."
"There is no way to make one of these things unless you use the telekinetic
abilities you have, is there?"
Lyta grinned. "It means you don't have to worry about just anyone running
around making them. Do you?"
"No. How long until you test it?"
"The largest moon orbiting this planet is almost as big as the Earth and has
an atmosphere. I'm going to land on it and bury my toy. I'll detonate it from
orbit."
An hour later, Lyta was back in orbit around the moon. With Draal monitoring
her shuttle's sensors, Lyta detonated the device. There was a very intense
flash. When the flash died away, there was an enormous cloud of dust. An hour
later the atmospheric winds of the moon had disbursed the dust cloud away from
the site of the explosion. Lyta and Draal were looking at a gaping hole in the
ground where the device had been buried inside a cave more than a hundred
meters below the planet's surface.
"What do you think, Draal? It makes a bang, but there is no residual radiation."
"It must have been equal to at least a fifty megaton thermonuclear device.
Enough of those devices and the Slorian mountain range will be nothing but a
huge lava pool."
"That's the general idea, Draal. I can see it now," she said with a mirthful
tone, "Lyta's Instant Terraforming, Inc." She would have sworn she heard the
old Minbari groan to himself.
Lyta spent another day gathering iron from the asteroids orbiting the
planet. Then she resumed her journey to Slor.
******************************
END PART 13