Truth And Consequences

 

by: Brian Holst and Mary Ann Boring

 

         "Good evening, I'm Howard K. Smith and this is the state of the war tonight. Shocking rumors abound that the Visitors have overrun Detroit and are now using our own manufacturing facilities against us. Specifics are unknown at this time, but it is also believed that former steel and autoworkers have been pressed into slave labor at the overrun plants. Meanwhile, the Visitors continue their assaults on other northern cities formerly protected by the Red Dust both in the United States and around the globe.

                Local resistance has been negligible in Seattle, Richmond, and Washington DC, while the Denver and New York resistance groups have been able to slow the Visitor advance into their cities. 

         "This week's Freedom Network Medal of Valor goes to Pete Forsythe, who almost single-handedly held off a squad of Visitors in New York, allowing President Morrow time to escape from the temporary government offices. And that's where we stand tonight. From the Freedom Network in New York, our hopes are with you. Good night."

         When the cameraman waved his hand, signaling that the broadcast had ended, Howard swiveled the chair he sat in away from the anchor desk. "And may God be with us all," he whispered quietly.

 

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

         Pointing behind him as he raced around the corner, Donovan snapped off a Teflon-coated bullet at the Visitor jeep hot on his trail. The jeep's tires squealed as it spun around the corner, ignoring the bullet that nicked the side-view mirror.

           'They'd better be ready for me,' the Resistance hero thought as he rounded another corner, dodging drifting piles of debris left from the rapid evacuation of Los Angeles. Much of the population had fled, or attempted to do so, after the death of Nathan Bates and the collapse of the Open City, leaving the streets in serious disrepair. Pushing aside thoughts of disgust, he tore into the open door of an abandoned warehouse, and then turned quickly to his left. His pursuit failed to slow down and rushed through the open loading door.

           Donovan turned around, but did not raise his weapon to the Visitors. As the driver sneered, and the gunner in the back seat took aim, a whooshing sound sliced the air. Before he had a chance to turn and determine the source of the noise, a railroad tie dropped from the rafters ahead and above the driver, and smashed through the windshield of the jeep. An audible cracking reached Donovan's ears as the trap crushed the Visitor's ribs and sternum. The impact knocked the gunner out the back end of the vehicle, and he lay unconscious after the back of his head hit the concrete surface of the warehouse's floor.

          After the silence of a few seconds had ensued, three figures emerged from the shadows. "Again?" Kyle Bates asked.

         Donovan nodded grimly. "Again. Those Visitors spotted and recognized me before I got anywhere near the stakeout point. They had to have known I was on my way."

         Chris Faber dropped his Uzi, his favored weapon, to his side. "How many is that?"

         "Too many."  Disgust filled Ham Tyler's voice. "We've had too many botched missions lately."  His eyes narrowed as he gazed at the others. "One of us is a mole."

         "You're being paranoid, Tyler," Donovan said. Though his words disagreed with Ham, his mind secretly spun as it considered what the other man had said. Of course, if Ham knew he secretly acknowledged that what he said might be true, he'd never hear the end of it.

         "How else do you explain everything that's gone wrong since we got back from the Andes? Or how those snakes managed to show up at just the right time there?"

         Silence lingered for another few seconds as the Resistance comrades faced the realization of what they had feared since the destruction of the Anyx in South America. Philip, the Visitor Inspector General who was their contact in the Fifth Column, had risked capture to inform them that Diana had converted one of their comrades, Rick Hurley.

          Hurley had informed Diana of their location in Los Angeles before they had departed to recover the lost Anyx of the Ancients, the source of the Visitor's ancestors' knowledge. Now, it seemed that someone else among them had told the scientist of their location in the Andes, which they had reached after leaving Rick in the care of another Resistance group. That leak had almost cost them the Anyx. In the weeks subsequent, several other missions by the Los Angeles group had resulted in near disaster.

         "Donovan!" Kyle yelled, getting the older man's attention and motioning him to come over to where he knelt next to the fallen Visitor gunner. When the journalist reached the red-clad figure, his voice dropped, disgust filling his voice.

         "James." Despite the alien's torn facemask, the former television reporter recognized the enemy who had almost succeeded in completely destroying the L. A. Resistance immediately prior to the short-lived cease-fire. Although he had received no direct word, he believed the squad leader was also responsible for the capture of Philip.

         Kyle's fists squeezed tight as he regarded the fallen foe. A slow up-and-down motion in his chest indicated that the Visitor was still alive. His teeth gnashed together as he continued looking down. "It's his fault!" He pointed, continuing, "His fault that we're reduced to these pathetic hit and run operations. Railroad ties swinging on ropes? This is the best we can do now!" He drew back his right leg, ready to kick the Visitor in the ribs.

         Donovan came from behind and wrapped his partner in a bear hug, pulling him away from James. "Easy, Kyle," he said soothingly. "We'll get our chance."

         "Probably sooner than we think," Chris added.

         Beckoning to the jeep, Ham said, "Aside from the windshield, this thing's still fine. We've got our ride back to the hideout."

         As the others walked over to the jeep, Chris picked up the Visitor's limp form. "We'll bring your friend with us.  Never know when you'll want a new pair of lizard-skin boots."

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

         "Well, look who's back. Our heroes." A slight sarcastic note to her voice, Maggie Blodgett gestured to the jeep coming down the entrance ramp to their latest Resistance headquarters. The underground parking ramp had been chosen largely to give their captured Visitor troop transport a hiding place. Donovan had been given the task of piloting the ship down the narrow opening after their return from the Andes and the resolution of the Anyx quest.

         Julie Parrish stood next to the taller blonde. After the trials she had faced recently in the Leader's alternate dimension, she had regained her composure. "They're men. You've got let them show off sometimes, stretch that ego of theirs to the limit."

         An inquisitive look on her face, Elizabeth Maxwell asked, "Are all men like that?"

         Julie looked past the Starchild, to Willie who stood behind her. A slight grin broke her weary face. "No, definitely not all of them."

         "Hey, you aren't including me in that little stereotype of yours, are you?" Chris had obviously heard at least part of the women's conversation.

         Running up to the gristly man, Maggie wrapped both arms around him. "Are you kidding? You ARE the model of the stereotype."

         Chris pulled back after a few seconds and regarded the blonde. "So, still bitter about us not letting you come with us on the last mission?  Your arm still O.K.?"

         For proof, she swung it in a few circles without even grimacing. "Doesn't even tingle anymore. Gonna leave a whopper of a scar though," she added, rubbing the lower front of her shoulder.

         Julie walked over. "I don't understand what happened. Aside from the tingling she felt in the Andes, it hasn't caused her any pain at all. There's no medical reason for getting hit with two laser blasts and not feeling any pain." She jumped topics. "How did the stakeout go?"

         "It didn't," Kyle explained. The four human men took turns detailing the events that led up to their capture of James.

         "Is he still unconscious?" Julie asked.

         "Sleeping like a baby," Ham said, walking over to the captured jeep and scooping up James under his armpits. He dragged the unconscious Visitor to the group.

          Willie looked slightly uncomfortable. He asked, "What are we going to do with him?"

          One by one, the eyes of each Resistance member focused on Julie. Silent in her musings for a moment, she responded, "I honestly don't know."

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

         A tiny noise behind him caused Nigel to jump as he sat with his back to the door at the computer terminal. He swiveled his chair swiftly, hand grabbing for his side arm, only to find nothing entering the room.

         He shook his head, and returned to his work. Now was not the time to be jumping at some sound he'd only imagined. With a series of keystrokes he broke down another level of security deep in the main computer's memory core. Slicing into the most secure of files would normally be a time- consuming and arduous task, but since his recent promotion into the officer's ranks, he had clearance for most activities and files. The few he didn't he had learned to slice into with an amazing ease.

         Suspicion and curiosity guided his task. Since the Leader had sent an additional half-dozen Motherships to Earth, there had been no contact with them. Even after the Red Dust had been defeated, none of these new ships had been stationed above any of Earth's major cities that had once been protected. Even so long after their arrival, Diana, Lydia, and other command personnel he had encountered had offered absolutely no explanation for the missing ships. 

         And that was where his suspicion began. Doubtless only the most top-secret of projects would be shrouded in such secrecy. After the recent exposure and capture of Philip, most operations had been restricted to a need-to-know basis in order to curtail Fifth Columnist activities. 

                The console beeped, knocking him out of his musings. Text information appeared on the monitor, broken occasionally by a picture or schematic.

         What he saw made him gasp in horror. The image before him made him shudder with a cold he'd never felt before, not even on the Home world during the long months of Eclipse Winter.

         The Triax. The dreadnought. It was the destroyer of worlds beyond measure. Whatever its name, it accomplished the same task - complete and utter destruction of entire cities, continents, and even worlds.

        Only, the Triax was not as he remembered it.  It hung suspended in space, centered between the six Motherships in the photo. Support struts, supply tubes, hoses, and other necessities for a large construction project connected the odd assembly of disk-like ships and the incomplete Triax to each other, almost like a perverse version of a spider in the center of a web.

        He sat silent for several moments before the shock wore off and he began covering his tracks in the computer network. When that task was complete, he switched the terminal off and walked to the door, double-checking that all traces of his presence had been erased.

        After all, no one could discover that he, Visitor officer, and brother to fleet security officer Lydia, was in fact one of the few surviving Fifth Columnists on the Los Angeles Mothership. And, now he knew of the Leader's impending final blow to humanity. A new Triax, to replace the one destroyed by the Resistance, would vaporize any part of the Earth that failed to agree to his demands.

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

                As holding back became impossible, Juliet released her frustration. "Stop this now!" she yelled as she directed her voice at the other Resistance members standing nearby in the abandoned parking garage.  "This bickering is pointless!"

       Ham stepped forward. "Julie's right. We've been arguing about which of us is the mole for nearly an hour.  We've all been out of contact with each other for enough time that the Visitors could have easily picked up any of us and converted us." He pointed at Chris. "You were with the desert patrol for months, and could easily have been picked up by Diana's lackeys before Reverend Turney saved you."

       Pointing a thumb at his own chest, Ham continued, "And how long was I in Chicago alone?  No one here can vouch for my whereabouts during a lot of that time, except when Chris was working with me."

       Donovan spoke up next. "Kyle, Willie, and I were separated from each other several times while we were aboard the Mothership during the cease-fire. Any of us could have been altered then, too."

       "I wasn't even here back when the Visitors returned. They could've nabbed me during those first couple of months," Maggie added, her eyes glassing over as she recalled her early inability to smuggle herself back into LA.

        Nodding his agreement, Kyle added, "And don't forget when the Visitors caught Elias and me back when J.C. McClaire showed up here."

        "I'm not even one of you. You have trusted me for a long time, but you don't know if I'm everything I say I am," Willie added to the discussion.

       "Oh, Willie, you might not be human, but you're quite trustworthy." Julie managed a warm smile, which rapidly dissipated. "None of us knows what exactly happened to me when the Leader took me hostage. He could have altered me in any number of ways without my knowing it. Diana before converted me too. So was Ham. She could have hidden a dormant message in either, or both, of us."

       "Like Julie said, this won't solve anything now. Besides, we're low on supplies, especially ammo."  Donovan looked at each of those watching him as he spoke. "We need to see if we can get some weapons smuggled in."

        "But why?" Kyle asked  "We aren't a big enough force to go at Diana alone. Seems like these hit and runs are a waste of our time."

        "Right, but why was James going around picking up random people off the street when he spotted Donovan?  His little group remained behind as guards like those prisoners they had rounded up were more important than the man that's number one on Diana's hit list. We need to find out why," Chris said.  "And before that, we need weapons.”

         "So who goes?" asked Willie. "To Jamison's?" A short time passed as the others considered his question.

       "I'll go," Maggie said. "It makes the most sense. The Visitors would recognize me least of us on the street. The rest of you are too well known."

       "Thanks, Maggie. You know Jamison, and he knows you. Just let him know what ammo and weapons he needs to scare up for us. Maybe he'll be able to pick up some Visitor power packs.  He's got connections everywhere," Donovan said.

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

         With the recently acquired jeep and the shuttle being the only motor transportation sources available to the Resistance, Maggie was forced to make the journey to Jamison Rhodes' garage on foot.  With so little traffic in the city, any vehicle was likely to acquire undue attention, especially one liberated from the Visitors.

        She stopped in front of the garage, taking in the uncreative sign, which read "Jamison's Garage" in basic lettering above the dirty main overhead door. Stepping inside, she looked around for the mechanic. Before the occupation by the Sirians, Jamison had been a mechanic in the city. After the Visitors arrived, he had seen a tremendous drop in his business, which led him to import a large amount of weapons for the Resistance in order to survive. The shift in his job status had been easy enough; parts had to come into his shop on a daily basis. An M-16 clip smuggled in with a muffler or oil pan every now and then slipped to the Resistance right under the Visitors' noses. While the Resistance couldn't pay much for his services, they did shell out what little they could spare to show their appreciation. He had also never formally joined their cause. The mechanic was someone who appeared trustworthy, but didn't believe enough in their battle to officially sign up. He preferred to keep to himself, working on the vehicles he knew so much about.

         Glancing about, she spotted a pair of legs sticking out from under a slightly rusting Chevy Citation. As she approached, his level voice greeted her as he slowly rolled out from under the car on a dolly.

       "Who's there?"

       "Maggie Blodgett," she replied, a slight tension creeping into her stance.

        As he wheeled himself out fully, she saw he was tightly gripping a long-handled torque wrench, which he could have easily swung into her shins while she stood next to the car. With enough force, it could have broken the bone in her leg.

        Grabbing a nearby rag, he let a tiny smile mold his face.  "How you been Maggie? Been a while.  Almost thought you were one of them at first," he gestured to the floor on his right. Looking down, Maggie saw a rather sizable green puddle of dry fluid. She suppressed a shudder.

         "That's not a coolant spill, is it?" she asked the black man. He shook his head.

        "They came in a few days ago, two of them. The old torque wrench trick managed to get both of them off their feet before they knew what hit them. The claw end of my favorite hammer did the rest."

      Even after the years she had spent killing the alien invaders, Maggie still felt a slight churning in her stomach as he vaguely described the encounter. "You toss them in the sewer system?"

         He nodded. "I'm not even sure what they wanted. Just asked me how much I knew about cars and metals."  He ran his hand through his short black hair. "I guess I didn't give them much of a chance to explain themselves. Well, tell me what you're interested in today."

         She listed off the ammunition the Resistance members had decided was most important to acquire.  As she mentioned the Visitor power packs, he let out a low whistle. 

       "Hey, those aren't exactly easy to come by..."

       "Jamison, you've got them for us before."

       "I know, I know." He held up his hands, almost apologetically. "Just sayin' is all.  You might not want to get your hopes up or..."

       A reverberating voice sliced through his statement. "Jamison Rhodes?" The statement was as much a question as a command. Maggie turned around with Jamison to see a half dozen Visitors in shock trooper gear, standing in a rough semi-circle in the overhead doorway. She heard Jamison curse under his breath.

       "I'm Jamison," he replied in answer to the question. "And you must be new to the planet. I see your voice hasn't yet adjusted like those of your fine compatriots."

       The lead Visitor ignored the last part of his statement. "You're to come with us at once." He gestured out the door with his rifle. 

       Jamison looked puzzled. "And why should I do something like that?"

       "We don't have time for your questions." He glanced at Maggie. "Who's she?" he asked, subtly flexing his index finger, which rested on his gun's trigger. 

       "She's... uh," the mechanic thought quickly. "My assistant. Maggie. Yes, my assistant. Just hired her on recently."

       If the Visitor noticed Jamison's vocal stumble, he gave no indication. "She comes with us too.  Move." The Visitors parted down the middle of their semi-circle, obviously meaning for the two humans to leave the building.

       "Hold up here. I don't have time for this. I've gotta close the place up..." Jamison's protests were silenced with a grunt after the closest trooper clubbed him in the stomach with the butt of his rifle.

       "Move," he ordered. Jamison glanced up at Maggie as he stood doubled over, clutching his stomach.  She shook her head slightly, in answer to his unasked question. She couldn't see any way out of their predicament either. The officer in charge might be newly arrived on the planet, but he still had six guns trained on the two of them. Not the best odds for those who favored living.  Without further protest, the two humans were escorted out of the maintenance garage and into a truck parked several blocks away. With four of the troops in back with them, the truck rumbled to life and carried them down the street, toward whatever fate the Visitors had in store.   

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

                The events of earlier in the day still fresh in his mind, Nigel walked into his quarters through the door that opened at his unspoken command. Knowing that he was likely the only person, other than command level and those directly assigned to the project to know of the existence of a new Particle Beam Triax managed to shake him. How costly would this knowledge be in terms of human life and in the lives of those who had survived Diana's purge of suspected members of the Fifth Column?

                Nigel snorted. Like enough Fifth Columnists were left anyway. Diana would see to that once she broke Philip's will. Using her mind-warping machinery, she would extract whatever he knew in regards to the traitors in the Visitors' ranks. Unfortunately for them, even a small bit would be damaging to their cause. Philip's being at the head of the movement had afforded him the names and positions of most of the other leaders in the United States, and, to an extent, around the globe. 

                As he walked in, he was startled to see two guns pointed his way. From behind one, he saw Howie shake his head.

                "Sorry," the intern mumbled.

         As the other gun lowered, Nigel took in a slight smile on the human mask of Jessica. Her blonde hair flowed just past her shoulders, a slight wave lacing through it. He pushed down the warm feelings he felt rising up for her. There would be time for them later. For now, though, he had to tell them of his discovery.

         "You must be joking," Jessica managed to say once he had finished informing them of his discovery.

         "I wish I were. It's all in the main computer, under layers and layers of encryption. That thing's nearly operational." Nigel sighed. "Activities like this are exactly why I joined the Column. When I was training on the Home world, they taught us that humans were little more than herd animals, ready to be conquered." He shook his head. "But they aren't." He shouted as he thumped a fist on the table. "How could I have been so naive? These humans create, think, build, and dream . . . The Leader deceived us. He lied to all of us. Only to fulfill his personal desires."

         Jessica patted his hand and attempted a reassuring smile. "He lied to us all, but at least we're trying to do something about it."

         "Our actions here on Earth were all wrong!" Nigel eyes glossed over as he delved into his memories. "A lot runs through your mind when you're lying on a table ready to be sacrificed in some archaic ritual. Diana was ready to kill me just to gain a foothold over Lydia."

         "But from all I've heard, your sister fought Diana as best she could until Philip managed to intervene on your behalf," Howie offered.

         Nigel nodded. "Just like humans would do for their families. Both of them risked a lot for me, especially Lydia."

        "What can we do to help Philip?" Jessica inquired, wanting to know the answer as much as she wanted to change the subject. She and Nigel had grown close, and she knew just how much he felt betrayed by their culture.

        Looking pensive, Nigel waited a moment before replying. "There's not much we can do for him now. But we can help humanity. After all the evils we've inflicted on them since we arrived, we owe them that much."

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

                At the same time Nigel and the others were meeting in his quarters to make plans in regards to the new Triax, Diana and Lydia were in the conversion chamber waiting on the guards to bring Philip to them.

                While the raven-headed scientist talked with the technician, Lydia's thoughts turned to the conversation she'd overheard two nights ago. She had to find out whether her brother Nigel was a member of the Fifth Column or not, but the only one who could tell her was the prisoner who was being brought to them.

                Her silent musings were interrupted when the guards came into the room with Philip standing between them. In his eyes, she saw something that she'd never seen in him before: a look of shock and terror.

                Before his exposure as a member of the Fifth Column, Philip had read the reports and heard the rumors of what went on in this room, but he never once thought that he'd be subjected to the process that turned someone against the very cause they fought for.

       He knew from those reports that the images he would face here would be nothing more than that, illusions. Diana would take his knowledge and memories and twist them to suit her own twisted needs.

                                                **                                           **                                           **

                Minutes later, after the two guards had secured their prisoner in the conversion chamber at the scientist's command, Lydia watched as the former Inspector General closed his eyes and tried to resist the evil siren's call of the conversion chamber's deadly illusions. She hated what they were doing to him, but there was no way to save him, short of risking her own life. There was nothing she could do to help him . . . or was there?

       She could only begin to imagine the memories that he was clinging to in order to save his sanity and it bothered her to see the conversion process being used against him. She tried to keep her face neutral, as it would gain her nothing for Diana to see just how much what they were doing to Philip upset her.

       "Diana, what will you do if conversion doesn't work on him?" the Fleet Security officer asked. She really wasn't sure that she wanted to hear the scientist's reply.

        "I'll have the information he knows, one way or another!" she shouted without taking her eyes off of the display screens in front of her. "By the time he leaves that chamber, he'll either be converted or dead!" She then turned to face the technician. "Go to Level Six!"

         The technician working with her gasped in undisguised surprise while Lydia's human-appearing face paled. She knew that no one who came out of the chamber survived Level Six the same way they went into it. Diana had often bragged about how people she'd taken into the chamber were broken and served them or killed to the strain put upon their heart by the exertion.

         Unknown to either of them, Diana's much-vaunted conversion process, which had worked so well on many of their own kind as well as humans in key governmental places, would not work on this man. It had one key drawback that had not been documented. His uniqueness at being the sole survivor of the only pair of identical twins to have been born in the last several centuries might be the one thing that could save him from the worse part of the conversion process.

         Although Diana had used Philip's own twin brother Martin as a test subject, the young lab technician who had been assigned at the time to work with the scientist had deliberately failed to record the results for her. As a member of the Fifth Column, she had acted to protect Martin's affiliation with them. The absence of that data might be the key to saving Philip's life. What Diana didn't understand now, and hadn't understood then, was that what wouldn't work on one twin, wouldn't work on the other!

                                                **                      **                      **

                In the conversion chamber, Philip came face to face with his own mirror image. He knew in his head that it was merely one of Diana's projected illusions, but to his eyes and other senses, it seemed so realistic.

         "Why are you helping the humans?" the image asked. Philip had to appreciate the scientist's skills. "It was because of Mike Donovan that I died on an alien world."

        "No," Philip hissed. He knew the truth about what had actually happened to his brother, but couldn't tell anyone. Martin was still alive! He would die before giving up that secret. If Diana found that his brother was still alive, she would use Martin against him in order to get the information she wanted and then finish the job she'd started earlier. Even though he knew it wasn't real, the Inspector General took a step towards the illusionary image of his brother. "They are like us in so many ways. You told me that in a letter disk. You didn't lie to me then, and I won't listen now!"

        Diana had chosen to focus upon the apparent death of Martin, knowing that those memories were still raw and very sensitive for him. He knew exactly how his twin smelled, thought and even felt at times.

                Upon arriving to investigate the death of Charles, he had actually come with an ulterior motive of his own that he'd never revealed to anyone else. He wanted to investigate the disappearance of Martin as well. After Diana had lied to him, he'd gone to Earth planning to look up the human Resistance fighter known as Donovan. Once they met, he would kill the human who Diana claimed had taken the life of his brother. It was only when Donovan had defeated him in unarmed combat and then had refused to kill him when he clearly had the advantage did the truth of what had happened to be revealed to him. Donovan and Martin had actually been friends. Months later, the real truth had been revealed to both of them. Another had died in Martin's place while he struggled to save those who had chosen to live on Earth after the first invasion.

         Instead of turning away from the pain and loneliness he now felt at the apparent loss of his brother, Philip embraced it as though his life depended on it. In an odd sort of way, it really did, even though he didn't know that!

       Fighting against the images he was being subjected to, Philip clung to the sense of rage and betrayal he'd felt once he'd learned that the Leader had lied to all of them about the humans. He'd never said that they were thinking, reasoning creatures like they were. He also clung to the shame and dishonor he felt at having almost killed Mike Donovan because of a misunderstanding arranged by Diana. Once he'd learned the truth about Martin's disappearance, he'd felt both emotions at such an unusual act for someone who was usually so reserved. He'd let them use him, not once but twice, and that made him angry!

        "Surrender, Philip. I can take the pain away. You can redeem your honor and have your rank back. I'll do all that I can to help you," Diana said seductively into the microphone. All you have to do is tell me who the other members of the Fifth Column are."

         "NO!" Philip shouted through clenched teeth. Thinking about Nigel and the countless others who were depending on him not to betray them, he fought against the illusions. Remembering Martin and the ultimate sacrifice his brother had made to the cause of peace, Philip knew that he had to do what he could to protect as much of the Fifth Column network as he could. Martin had chosen to be forever isolated from him and his own people rather than obey unethical orders that would lead to the systematic extermination of an entire sentient race. But as he struggled to hold onto his own thoughts and free will, he found it becoming increasingly difficult to do so. "I won't betray them!"

        "I can give you what you want," she said. Her voice seemed to echo inside his head. "You can be free to live among us."

        "To live as your slave, Diana? I'd rather die first!" The ex-Inspector General's breaths were coming in gasps. Lydia hated the fact that the scientist was taking great delight in hurting him.

         "Damn him!" Diana shouted. No one had ever withstood Level Six before. She had to know why he was seemingly immune to her conversion process. The technician cringed in his chair while Lydia stepped back away from her. "He's almost as stubborn as his traitorous brother, Martin!"

         At her mention of his brother, Philip's resolve began to strengthen. It was as if he was drawing upon a well of inner strength that he'd never known existed within him. He was glad that he could still frustrate her and thwart her plans, even though he knew that she could have him killed at any given moment. If giving his life for the protection of the Fifth Column was what it took, then he'd willingly give it. No matter what they did to him, no one could ever find out about Nigel's affiliation with them or that Martin was still alive. He'd do whatever it took to keep them as safe as he could for as long as possible.

         After a few more minutes, it was obvious to Lydia that no matter what level of the conversion process the scientist attempted to use on him, it would not work on him. In addition, she had become quite disgusted with watching Diana hurting him. They needed him capable of rational thinking, not something else. She summoned a guard from outside the chamber.

       "Take him back to his cell," she said as the guard entered the room. At Diana's icy stare, she turned to face her enemy. In that moment, she saw the scientist as the others saw her: a threat to all life everywhere! "We need him alive and coherent, Diana, not some mindless, gibbering idiot!"

         When the guard entered the chamber, Lydia watched Philip's body sag as the invisible beams of energy that had held him up suddenly released their hold on him. If the guard hadn't been there to catch him, he would have collapsed onto the floor of the chamber.

         Diana stormed out of the chamber while the technician shut down the control and display panels that lined the front of the chamber. Lydia watched her go.

         "Bring him here to me," she said as she toggled the microphone. She couldn't bear the fact that the others were treating him so badly.

         "But Diana said that no one - - "

        "Bring him here to me, then wait outside the door," she snapped. She was unused to having her orders questioned. After all, she was the Fleet Security Chief and as such, she explained her actions to no one!!

                                                **                                           **                                           **

                Lydia was still sitting in the conversion chamber when the guard arrived with Philip. As the guard sat him down in one of the chairs and then left, she got her first real up-close and personal look at what an attempted conversion did to someone.

        He was tired and obviously in need of a change. She could tell when she looked at him closer that he'd been dangerously close to breaking. He was also no doubt very hungry since Diana had given orders that no one was to visit him, which ruled out the cook bringing him something from the mess hall. It didn't, however, rule out a visit from one of the medical staff in order to check on his condition. She would arrange it as soon as she was finished with what she had to say to him.

         When the technician and the guard had left, Lydia walked over to the nearest dispenser and brought the Inspector General a cup of water.

         "Philip?" she asked, trying to determine if he'd been physically harmed or not. "Here, drink this," she said as she brushed the sand-colored hair from his eyes. He eyed her suspiciously, refusing to take the cup from her hands. She then lifted it to her lips and drank some of the water, showing him that she'd put no poison into it and that she would do whatever it took to earn his trust. "I trusted you with Nigel's life, now trust me with yours. It's only water." 

         "Why?" he asked as he took the cup from her and drank the water like a man who'd been too long in the desert without it. He had to know why she was risking death by being kind to him.

        "My reasons are my own," she said simply.  "You saved my brother. How can I not try to repay that debt?"

                Philip knew that he'd been on the verge of revealing that Lydia's brother Nigel was one of them and that his own brother Martin was still alive. To resist the urge, he held on to the anger he felt at the betrayal of both the Leader and Diana and the fact that they both had used him to further their own evil ends. For some odd reason, he found himself wanting to protect her from harm.

        "You're putting both yourself and Nigel in danger. If Diana finds out about this, she could say that you're aiding and abetting a known collaborator. She'd like nothing more than to kill you." He looked at her, trying to read her intentions. As a lawyer, he'd always prided himself on being able to read other people's body language for an advantage in court, but he couldn't read hers. It was a clear indication to him that she was holding something back. "Lydia . . . "

                "I have to know something, Philip, and only you can tell me," she said, interrupting him as she watched his face for any trace of emotion that would confirm what she already suspected. "Is my brother a member of your Fifth Column?"

                Philip looked up at her, failing to mask his reaction to her unexpected question. The shock was evident on his face. In that instant, Lydia had her confirmation. She watched him close his eyes and take a deep breath.

                "I can't tell you that," he replied. He didn't know whether or not to trust her, so he decided that a non-committed silence was for the best. He also had no idea as to what Nigel might have told her about his ties to them and he decided not to betray Nigel's trust in him.

                "I have to get you back to your cell," Lydia said as she turned back to face him. She walked to the door and opened it, then stuck her head out the door. "You can take him back now."

         She watched as the guards led him down the corridor and back to his detention cell. She knew that she had to get Nigel off the Mothership to a safe place on Earth and she also had to do what she could to help them get Philip out of the predicament he was in. She had a plan, but didn't know whom to contact in order to get help in her rescue attempt.

                                                ****                    ****                    ****

      "She's been gone too long."

       After making his statement, Chris let his gaze sweep around and meet the eyes of each of his Resistance comrades.  He could tell from their looks that they had each been thinking the same thoughts.

       "Maybe if we just sit tight, she'll be back before..."

       "No," the bearded man interrupted Kyle. "Trouble's found her. If we don't find her soon, we might not be able to help her."  A slight flicker of distaste crossed his face. "We should never have let her go out by herself."

       "Seemed like the right idea at the time," Ham directed somewhat softly toward his friend. Then, raising his voice to the others, "We need to find her. Maggie's too smart for something like this. If there weren't a problem, she would've let us know something by now."

       Julie stepped forward. "Ham's right. But this time, we won't make the same mistake. We'll go in pairs.  If there really is a mole, we'll all be safer that way. Mike and I will check out Jamison's. Ham, you and Chris can check the local safe houses. If she ran into something before or after talking with Jamison, she would've made for one of them instead of coming here."

       "What about us?" Kyle inquired, making a brief hand gesture to include Elizabeth and Willie along with himself.

       "Guard duty," Donovan threw over his shoulder as he followed Julie out the door of the office they were all in.

       "Great," Kyle added sullenly. He hated being left behind when he knew that there was going to be a possible battle and that they needed everyone. He'd rather be out with them fighting the lizards instead of hiding from them.

       As Ham began to leave, Chris threw a hand on his shoulder. "Wait, I've got an idea."

                                ****                                       ****                                       ****  

       His hands tied behind his back, James looked up as Ham and Chris entered the supply area they had stashed the captured Visitor in.  The Rebels had tied his arms to a support pole in the middle of the small room so he could face the locked door when anyone entered.

       Neither of the former CIA agents wore an inviting face. In fact, both looked downright menacing. "We need to ask you a few questions," Ham directed at their captive, throwing the door shut behind him.

       A bemused smile crept over James' mask. Since they had caught him, the tear in it had begun to heal itself.  Only a slight fissure remained where it had split. "I understand. This is... What do you call it?  A 'good cop, bad cop' role-playing? One's nice, one's mean?"  He obviously did not mean to be intimidated.

       "Close," Chris said. "I'm the bad cop. And he," he said as he thumped a thumb into his sternum, and then inclined his head towards Ham, "is the worse cop."

       Ham placed both his hands on the Visitors' shoulders. "We need to know why you were rounding those people up before you spotted Donovan. Where were they being taken? Were they being taken to a processing plant or a work detail in the cobalt mines?"

       James looked up and met Ham's eyes. "I don't know."

        Ham sighed as he straightened up and turned toward Chris. "He doesn't seem to understand."

       "Maybe this will help him comprehend," the larger man said, balling his right hand into a fist. He arced it back and let it sail forward into James' gut. A gasp escaped the captive's lips as the air was forcibly removed from his lungs. He coughed, but managed to make it sound only like a pitiful wheeze.

       Ham took his right hand and grabbed the Visitor's forehead, forcing it up to make eye contact with him.  "Did that help jog your memory?"

       James returned the stare from his captor. "No, I still don't know."

       Ham smashed James' head back against the pole he was tied to. The shock was enough to make any human border on unconsciousness. Despite his superior physical strength, the Visitor still looked dazed after the impact. Before he could speak again, Chris swung a backhand into his right cheek. The force of the impact split James' mask once again where it had split earlier.

       "This charade is getting old fast. Maybe you don't understand what's at stake. Maggie is important to me, and if she's been rounded up like those people were, I need to find out why," Chris said. "And you need to tell me."

       A broken tooth and a trail of green spittle preceded the reply. "Whatever the reason, Diana didn't tell us.  But I could tell you something interesting about your traitor-friend Willie's fiancée_ . . . " He closed his eyes as he saw another blow coming his way.

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

       Twilight was settling over the Los Angeles landscape as Donovan and Julie walked side by side to Jamison's garage.

       "I'll say one good thing for the occupation. At least the smog's clearing up a little," Donovan said, a touch of sarcasm flecking his words as he watched the sky turn orange in the west. He stole a glance at Julie, who gave him a quick smile. Then, to his surprise, she took his hand in hers. She walked along with him like that for several minutes.

       As they got nearer to the garage, Donovan's mind began racing. 'What was going through her mind?  How long had it been since they had shown each other any sign of affection? When she had had her miscarriage? Liberation Day? Had it been years, or months? Why now?' he thought to himself.

       A small giggle snapped him from his musings. "What?" he asked.

       "You," she smiled, "look like a junior high kid suffering through his first crush."

       "Well, what would you expect?" A slightly defensive note seeped into his words. "We've been practically ignoring each other since I can't remember when. You come back from the Leader's captivity, not wanting to talk at all about what happened or where you were. Now, you want us to pick up where we left off?  I'm not sure I can even remember where or when we left off." He paused for a beat. "You're acting different than you were before the cease-fire."

       Disbelieving, she looked into his eyes. "Are you trying to say I'm the spy, Mike? Is that it?"

       "That's not what I..."

       "Yes," her voice cracked. She swallowed. "Yes, that's exactly what you meant."  With that, she cast her eyes down and to the side, closing them tight as she sucked in a breath.

       Without intending to, he instantly recognized her body language and expression. The young medical student who had suddenly found herself thrust into the leadership role she didn't want or need. Julie had carried a lot of emotional baggage during the first occupation. But, she had grown up since then, and her outward showings of her stress were fewer and farther between. Yet, here it was again.

       He felt his gut twist. With the need to protect and comfort her seizing him, he pulled her into a tight hug. "He did something to you, didn't he?"

       And, without warning, her eyes burst into a spray of tears. She buried her face into his chest, clutching him tightly. "Mike, you have no idea," she sobbed. "I can't even begin to describe it. What it was like. What it felt like.  Anything about what happened to me." She paused as her voice cracked again. "Nothing could be as dreadful as what I went through. No form of torture could be worse. The agony. the hate. I'm not even sure why he did it." She sniffled and then continued with her tears.

       Donovan looked down into her golden hair. "I'm sorry," he said, then added silently, 'for everything.'  He held her for another minute before she pulled herself together again so she could speak.

       When she did, it was preceded by a short burst of laughter. "This is bad," she said, sniffing again.

       "No, it's not," he soothed.

       "Yes, it is. I can hear the report back to Sirius. 'Resistance leaders captured during emotional outburst on city corner in broad daylight.'"

       Donovan allowed a slight smile to cross his features. "You're right, except for the daylight thing.  It's getting pretty dark."

       Once again, Julie grabbed his hand, and pulled him into a walk next to her. "Can we maybe try to work things out? And this time make it last?" she asked, a bit of excitement lingering in her whispered words.

       "Oh, I don't know. What's in it for me?" he asked, in a tone so serious he was obviously kidding.

       "For starters? This." She pulled his head down toward hers and kissed him firmly on the mouth.

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

       Keeping to the shadows as best they could, Ham and Chris navigated their way toward the Bernstein home. While keeping his trained eyes open for any sign of trouble, Ham thought back to the trap they had lain for Daniel Bernstein and the Visitor Brian. It had taken a lot of team effort, but they managed to pull it off.  Surprisingly, the link in that chain that he considered the weakest, Stanley Bernstein, had turned out to be the strongest. He had allowed his own son to be caught in his own home, and had only said something about Daniel no longer being the son he knew as his only form of emotion. He snuffed. Occasionally, even with all his training and inborn skills, he made a miscalculation. No, not occasionally, rarely ever had he made a mistake as big as that one.

"You OK?" Chris asked.

                "Just remembering the past," Ham replied.

                The big man nodded as they turned and walked up the sidewalk toward the safe house. 

"Hold it," Ham said, throwing up an arm. "Something's not right." He glanced around.

                Inclining his head toward it, Chris said, "Check out the front door."

                Barely visible in the failing sunlight was a sizable scorch mark around the doorknob. Silently, a look flashed between the two. Inching their way forward with weapons drawn, they made for the door. When they reached it, a wordless countdown from three began on Ham's fingers. 

         When zero arrived, Chris placed his free hand on the door and eased it open without a squeak. Ham pressed forward, staying in a slight crouch to be a smaller target. Behind him, he knew and trusted that his friend would be covering his exposed back.

         A glance in one direction showed nothing out of the ordinary. He turned his head toward the dining room.  A chair lay overturned, but everything else remained undisturbed.

         "Did you hear that?" Chris whispered in his ear.

         Instantly, Ham strained his hearing to the maximum extent. Had Chris heard a board creaking? No. Footsteps? No.  Breathing? No. Then what had it been? He knew Chris would have said something only if a sound had truly been made.

         Then, he heard it. A rippling sound came from the rear of the house. He pointed. Chris nodded. They made for the backyard, where the pool was located.

         The sliding patio door was open and a slight breeze buffeted the half-drawn curtains. A red-clad figure was kneeling beside the pool, running his hand through the water. Easing himself out onto the pool deck, Ham acknowledged that Chris remained in the doorway to cover him. He angled his approach so an open shot was possible from there.

         Silent steps carried him forward. Still, the figure sat, waving his hand through the top layer of water. Five feet. Four feet. Three. Two. One.

         He poked his Uzi into the Visitor's back. "Up," he ordered. "Arms out to the side. Slowly. Move." The figure did as he said. "Now," he stepped back a half step. "turn round." He kept his weapon trained as the Visitor did as he was instructed and slowly turned to face him. "Son of a..." he began, looking into the familiar, if artificial, face. An enormous sigh of relief exhaled from Howie's lungs as Ham dropped the Uzi pointed at his chest.  "What are you doing here?"

         The intern scoffed. "I could ask you the same thing."

         Chris joined them as the verbal exchange was taking place. "We don't have time for this. Have you seen Maggie? Or the Bernsteins?"  

        With a shake of his head, Howie answered in the negative. Then, he looked sheepishly back at the pool. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself.  So much water standing in one place is unheard on the Home world. And you use it for recreation? Unbelievable."

         Putting on his best no-nonsense look, Ham stated, "You didn't come here for a swim.  What's going on?"

         Instantly, the expression on Howie's mask turned grim as he thought about the news he had to deliver. "This is going to take a few minutes."

         "We better take it inside then," Chris suggested, taking a look at the sky. Even though it was growing darker, they were still easily targets to spot from any chance Visitor patrols passing overhead. 

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

         "I've told you, I can't give you the name of that Fifth Columnist. With Philip's capture by James and Diana's recent attempts to convert him, we've had to become even more discreet than before.  You'll just have to trust me."

         Ham frowned deeply. "So we're just supposed to take him on his honor that there's another Triax out there?"

         "Are you saying you don't trust my judgment?" Howie asked, obviously a bit annoyed with what Ham had just implied.  A sound of annoyance preceded his next sentence. "You didn't trust me when we first met.  I thought I'd proven myself then."

        "I don't trust anyone. That's why I've stayed alive as long as I have. What we have is someone none of us in the Resistance have ever met, telling you to tell us some very bad news.  Maybe he's another spy of Diana's sent to root us out.  She's had enough of them recently." He ignored Chris' s amused snort beside him.

         Howie shook his head. "No, that's not the case at all. I know he's loyal. And so would you, if you'd just hear his views of why he's on our side."

        "But that's not gonna happen, is it?"

        "Look, I risked my life, again," he put significant stress on the word, "to come here, find your Resistance cell, and tell you about this thing before it's functional and wipes you and your last tastes of freedom off the planet. How many times have I come to your aid? You know you can trust me, so trust my judgment too. We don't have the time to waste."

         Several seconds passed silently before anyone spoke. Finally, Chris said, "He's got a point. With the Dust gone, Diana's ready to begin a final offensive. A new Triax would put the finishing touches on her victory."

         Considering his words, Ham remained silent. Then, he slammed his fist into the table they had seated themselves around. "We're so close. The Visitor's are hurting us, but we're hurting them even more. We've managed to take out more Motherships in the last few months than we did during the entire first occupation.  And most of those weren't very costly." He shook his head for a moment and then muttered, "Except for those idiots in Beirut.  Using a nuke in the middle of a city..." He trailed off, his voice full of disgust at the fact that most of the Middle east was now a radioactive crater due to their stupidity.

         Chris turned to his partner. "We've gotta look into this. If they've got it, it's the end of any meaningful organized resistance."

         Looking unhappy, Ham nodded his agreement. "All right, how do we figure out where this thing is?"

        "That's not the problem," Howie replied. "We know where it is.  It's in orbit around your Moon in a construction web between a half dozen Motherships."

        "Good.  How do we destroy it?" Ham asked.

        "That's the problem," Howie nodded. "Security is extremely tight. Apparently only those directly working on it and those told by Diana herself even know of its existence. Like I said, Diana is becoming just as discreet as the Column is." He paused before continuing. "Maybe we could somehow get some of your people assigned to a work detail on the Triax?"

         Ham considered that option before replying. "Too risky. We'd stick out like a sore thumb. None of us have ever been on one of those things, and while most of us have been on a Mothership, we still aren't familiar enough with one to not walk around in it like we have a big target painted on our backs."

        At this point, Chris jumped in. "How about rounding up your Column buddies to infiltrate the thing? A bunch of Visitors walking around somewhere with a bunch of other Visitors doesn't attract the attention we would."

        "You've got to be kidding," Howie said, his eyes growing wide as he considered the possibility. "I only know a couple others, and I doubt that they know all that many more.  We'd never be able to find the resources for what you're saying."

         "There doesn't appear to be a lot of choice in the matter. No one ever said it'd be easy being a traitor to your own people by standing up for what's right," Chris said, putting on about the best sympathetic look his gruff features could handle. 

         "Then it's settled," Ham said, standing up from the dining room table. "You and your people are going to have to go at this alone. We'll support you any way we can from here." He headed for the front door, sensing Chris do the same behind him.

         "You're insane!"

         "It comes with the job," Ham tossed back. He stopped, and turned around. "Look, your people brought this to our world. We'd help you if you could, but we've got our own problems to worry about." 

       As they left the house, a string of curses was heard behind them.   

       "He's picking up the language rather fast, isn't he?" Chris asked. 

       "As much as I hate it, our future depends on him and whoever else is still around on our side up there.  Let's get back to the parking ramp. Hopefully Julie and Donovan found Maggie."

         "What do you think happened to the Bernsteins?"

         "I don't want to think about it. It's just one more thing to worry about."

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

         Maggie had no idea how long she, Jamison, and the rest of the conscripts had been in the back of the truck. Doubtless several hours had passed, though she wasn't sure just how many had. Judging by the aches and bruises she felt, the driver hadn't felt obligated to slow down as he drove along the decaying roadway.  At any rate, the truck had finally stopped, and she waited along with the others. Several Visitor guards sat in back with the prisoners, index fingers relaxed on their weapons triggers. They obviously meant to imply just who was in charge now.

        "What do you think's going on?" the man seated to her left asked. He was in his late twenties, and she had learned his name was Raymond during their brief whispers during the trip.

         She shook her head. "I have no idea. If we were going to a processing plant, there must be one closer than here." As a Visitor glanced their way, she broke off her conversation.

                   The disguised lizard gestured with the rifle he carried. "Move.  That way."

         Maggie looked in the direction he had indicated. The truck had stopped outside a large building. Just what it was, she couldn't tell. Were they being taken to a warehouse?  The outside had a rather sterile appearance to it. It had obviously seen activity and it was not new by any means.  But, just what activity had occurred inside, or what was currently going on inside, was indistinguishable.

         Without any alternatives available, the group of prisoners moved as they had been told. Maggie fell in step next to Jamison. With the strength of her will, she forced down the swell of anxiety rushing up inside her. Whatever the reason for their capture, they were about to find out.

                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

         Kyle sat on the edge of the desk in the parking ramp's office. It had been several hours since the others had left to search for Maggie. In the interim, time had passed very slowly as he, Willie, and Elizabeth had pulled guard duty. He glanced at his watch, willing the minute hand to move faster. He looked at Elizabeth, sitting in the chair near the desk. Maybe with her powers she could cause time to speed up, ending his boredom prematurely.

         "What time is it?" she asked, meeting his gaze.

         He shook his head. "Not as late as you'd think."

         "Or hope?"

        Kyle nodded his response. "That too." He was silent for a moment. When the quiet was too much to bear, again, he turned to Willie. "Do you have any idea why those Visitors seemed so intent on rounding up those hostages we saw?"

         Willie looked puzzled. "I do not know. After Simon's death," a brief tide of grief rolled across his features before he began again. "After Simon's death, I stopped receiving much information about my people. Perhaps they were being readied for processing?"

         "Maybe, but that doesn't quite make sense. They must have plenty of stores in the Motherships by now. Why protect their captives so jealously when they had a chance to nab almost the entire remainder of the LA Resistance?"

                As he looked at Willie and Elizabeth, Kyle found that the lack of an answer to that one question bothered him more than being left behind on guard duty.

                "Come on," he finally said. "I've got to do something or go stir crazy. Anyone game for exploring the rest of this place?"

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

                Mike Donovan frowned as he and Juliet Parrish entered their base. It was too quiet for him and he wondered where Kyle, Willie and Elizabeth had taken off to. He'd hoped that Ham and the others might have made it back before them, but now . . .

                He still held Julie's hand in his own and felt his own desire for her. There was one thing that he'd wanted to do since their kiss in the street and the opportunity might never come again. He pulled her close to him.

                "Mike, what . . ?" she'd began, but when his lips met hers, her words of objection were forgotten as the gentleness of his caresses surprised her. As they finally parted, she willingly followed him upstairs.

                                **                                           **                                           **

                Mike sat on the edge of the bed that dominated the bedroom that he and Julie had commandeered for their own use.

                It had been far too long since they'd taken the time to focus on their own pleasure and he couldn't help but wish that they'd taken the time to do so more often. Even after all that they'd said and done to each other, his feelings for her hadn't changed. He still loved her and wanted to marry her after the war was over.

                He watched her as she brushed her hair, recalling how it had felt as it brushed across his chest when they'd made love earlier. He continued to watch her as she pulled it into a ponytail.

                Looking up, Juliet saw Mike's reflection in the mirror. She wondered what thoughts were going through his mind right at that moment.

                "Mike, are you all right?" Her gently asked question startled him.

                "Yeah," he said as he drew his thoughts back into the here and now. "I was just thinking that we haven't been close like this since before the battle on Liberation Day."

                "Mike - - "

                "My only regret is that we've lost so much time," he said as he drew her close to him. "I'm sorry about earlier."

                Even though he'd meant the words he'd just spoken, he knew that he had to keep the details of the plan he and Martin had devised in case something like this to himself until the time came to execute it. Hearing the voices of the others as they came in, Mike and Juliet went downstairs to hear what was going on. He hoped that they'd found Maggie or that they had some news in regards as to what was taking place on the Mothership and what was being done to Philip.

                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

                After everyone had arrived safely back at the hidden base, Mike Donovan nervously paced the floor of the common room in the abandoned parking garage that served as the current headquarters of the Earth-based Resistance. He and the others listened as Ham Tyler detailed their search for their missing compatriot, Maggie Blodgett.

                In the search for her, he and his partner, Chris Farber, had gone to see if she'd shown up at any of their local safe houses. The closest one to their current base was the home of Stanley and Lynn Bernstein.

                Arriving at their address, the two of them had found no trace of either Maggie or the Bernsteins. Instead, they'd found their Fifth Column contact, a medical intern named Howie. To their surprise, he'd been playing in the pool behind the house.

                Carrying their conversation into the house so they couldn't be seen by any fly-by patrols, he'd confirmed Mike Donovan's worst fear. Their prisoner, Lieutenant James, had indeed been the one to capture Philip after the Inspector General risked exposing his own alliance with them in order to warn them as to a traitor in their group. Then he dropped the biggest bombshell of all.

                "All Howie said was that another high-ranking Fifth Columnist had discovered the existence of another Particle Beam Triax," Tyler said. He watched as Donovan and the others remembered and reacted to his news with stunned horror.

                Each of them knew the destructive potential of the Triax. They'd encountered one just shortly after the beginning of the Second Invasion and remembered what it had cost them to stop it. It had taken both the destruction of the original Los Angeles Mothership and the life of a critically injured Robert Maxwell, but they'd just barely managed to accomplish the deed. If this one was as close to being completed as Howie claimed . . .

                "Just how close are they to being completed?" Juliet asked. She glanced over at Mike, all the while trying to catch the reporter's attention. She knew that he was worried about what Diana might be doing to his friend, Philip.

                "His contact told him that it was almost finished and ready to activate," Ham said as he sat down in a chair on the far side of the room.

                Everyone sat in the silence that had fallen in the common room, trying to make sense out of what they'd just been told. After a few tense moments, Donovan's strained voice broke the silence that hung in the room.

                "Did his contact mention anything about what they're doing to Philip now that he's been exposed?"

                Even though Howie had told him about Diana's attempt to convert the Inspector General, he'd also told him that the attempt had failed due to Philip's own innate stubbornness. It was the one thing Ham hadn't wanted to mention, but now he had no choice. He had to tell Mike.

                "Our lizard friend in back captured him just after he completed the transmission to you that warned us about Rick Hurley," the ex-mercenary said. He saw the look of pure rage and fury cross Mike's face and knew what it meant. He'd only seen that look twice before. The first time had been when he told him that Diana had converted his son, Sean, and the second had been when he found out that Steven had killed his mother. "He's being held under maximum security in one of the Mothership's detention cells."

                As Mike looked around the room at the faces of his fellow Rebels, a plan that might yet help both their cause and save Philip had cemented in his head. Ham recognized the look on his face. He knew that he had to rein Donovan in before whatever he was planning got out of hand.   "Before you get your hopes up, Gooder, there's one more thing you need to know," Tyler began. At Mike's questioning look, he continued. "Diana's already made one attempt to convert him and Howie's afraid that she might try again."

                Mike frowned. He couldn't tell anyone about his plan because of the fact that there might be a mole in the group. He had even kept it from Julie, which bothered him. He hated lying to her, but it couldn't be helped. He knew that the success of the plan depended on two factors. The first of these was that he had to keep it to himself. He had promised to keep the Fifth Column base a secret. Even though everyone except Maggie knew that Martin was alive, no one other than him knew where to find him. The second factor hinged on Martin and the true depth of his love for his brother.

                "I need you guys to buy me some time to get out of the city," he said. At their rush of questions, he stopped them. "I don't have time to argue or go into details, but unless I miss my guess, time is a luxury that we can't afford if we're to survive this war."

                Ham Tyler took a long look at the man he'd taken to calling "Gooder." Even though he'd never admit it to anyone, let alone him, he considered Mike Donovan to be the closest thing he had to a best friend.

                "I'll come with you," he volunteered, his eyes meeting Mike's in an unspoken communication that the journalist seemed to understand.

                "You can't," Mike countered. Normally, he'd be more than willing to accept the offer, but this time, more than his own life depended on what he planned. "I promised him that no one else would know where they are."

                Ham nodded. He understood what the journalist was bringing up. "At least take some kind of weapon with you, just in case."

                Mike took the Visitor blaster rifle that the mercenary was offering him without saying anything. It was the closest thing he'd ever get to a tacit admission of their friendship.

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

                Juliet Parrish watched as Mike Donovan quickly packed several changes of clothes into his duffel bag. As an afterthought, he tossed his Visitor side arm into the bag as well as a few spare power packs.

                "Why do you have to be the one who goes?" she finally asked him. She tried to understand why he was going, even though he'd not bothered to explain his reasons to any of them. For some unrevealed reason, Ham Tyler seemed to know why, but he wasn't telling anyone. "Why can't someone else go and tell Martin about his brother instead of you? You're putting yourself in needless danger!" She touched him on the shoulder. "We need you here!"

                "Because I owe it to him to tell him myself!" he shouted as he turned to face her. An indescribable look of anguish, pain and fear that she'd only seen once before was etched into his handsome face. "It was because of me that both Martin and Philip got involved in our cause!" His voice then dropped to a whisper that she had to strain to hear. "I'm the only one who knows where their camp is."

                He turned and zipped the bag, looping the strap over his shoulder as he reached down and picked up the Visitor blaster rifle that Tyler had given him earlier. He hated having to lie to her, but unless he kept what he had in mind to himself, there was a chance that Diana might find out about his plan. If that happened, he knew that he'd end up keeping Philip company in a detention cell on the Mothership.

                "Be careful, Mike," she whispered. She didn't want to let him go by himself, but she knew that she had to let him do this. "Come back in one piece, okay?"

                Mike leaned down and gently kissed her, then quickly turned and left the room before his own resolve to go weakened.

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

                As he checked the status of the wounded personnel in the field hospital, Howie heard the chime of the communications terminal in the next room. He softly cursed as he finished the last of the patient readouts before going to answer the message.

                "Yes, what do you want?" he asked as he keyed the terminal to accept the message. he then sat down in front of the video display screen.

                "Hello, old friend," a familiar voice said. The face was still out of focus, but Howie knew who was trying to contact him. "Howie, are you there? Damn it, if you're there, answer me! I have something to tell you before I leave."

                "Liam, what are you . . .?" Howie said as the face of his friend and Fifth Column contact on the London Mothership focused into view.

                "I don't have time for civilities, Howie," the young Biological Sciences technician snapped. "We have a big problem." He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. "I'm on the run, Howie. I had to get this last transmission to you before I left London."

                "Why?" He knew that Liam's cover hadn't been blown, but there had to be some serious reason for him to risk his cover contacting him like this. "What happened?"

                "You know that Diana ordered the entire fleet to be tested along certain guidelines earlier this year," the young Irish-sounding Visitor began. At Howie's nod, he continued his narrative. "She was looking for people who are immune to the human's Red Dust toxin. She discovered that out of our whole invasion fleet, only two of our people met her criteria."

                "I read the report," Howie replied. "There was one reported case here in the United States and one in Lond. . ." His voice trailed off in mid-sentence as the implication of the danger to his friend hit him. "You're the London case, aren't you?"

                Liam nodded. "Now you see why I had to take the risk in order to contact you. I had to let you know that Diana plans to use my blood to synthesize an antidote to the toxin for the rest of the fleet. If she succeeds, it would condemn the Earth to possible destruction."

                "It might already be a moot point by now, Liam," Howie said grimly as he pursed his lips in thought. Like his friend, the Los Angeles intern was about to take a risk in telling him what was going on, but most of the hospital staff had returned to the Mothership for the night. None of them liked being on Earth any longer than they had to be, but Howie found that, unlike them, he couldn't stand being among his own people anymore. "The Leader's authorized the construction of a new Triax in order to complete his conquest of Earth. It's only a matter of time until it's activated."

                Liam looked over his shoulder as someone touched him on the shoulder and Howie saw him nod at something they'd hurriedly whispered to him. "I have to go, Howie. The others are trying to get me off this ship and down to our contacts on Earth. They're going to try and smuggle me into the United States, but I'm not sure how they plan on doing it or if they'll succeed. I'll contact you when I'm able to. Be careful, my friend."

                Howie watched as Liam's image faded from view. He knew that he had to get this information to Nigel and the others somehow, but since he was the only medical officer on duty at the field hospital, he couldn't leave his patients unattended. He smiled as an idea came to him.

                Activating the communications link to the Mothership in orbit above the city, he waited for the beacon to show that it was ready for transmission. He knew his course of action.

                "Howie to Mothership. I need for you to send Jessica down to help me at the field hospital. I have an errand to run and need someone to look after my patients for a few hours."

                "Acknowledged."

                He broke the link and waited for her to arrive. He knew that if he gave her the information he wanted to get to Nigel, she'd be sure to deliver it if only to have a reason to visit his quarters.

                                                **                                           **                                           **

                Twenty minutes later, Howie looked up as the door to his office opened. He'd been expecting Jessica and was surprised to see Heather, a young Security officer who was also a member of the Fifth Column along with him, Nigel and Jessica.

                "Jessica couldn't get away. She's in a conference with the Chief Biological Sciences Officer and Diana on the Mothership." She looked at him, trying to figure out why he'd wanted to talk to Jessica. "Diana sent this to you. She said that the written orders would be self-explanatory." She then handed him the package she was holding. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

                "I need to get a message to Nigel," he finally said. He smiled as he thought about the young officer who was his friend. He then scowled as he thought about his friend Liam, who was on the run from the London Mothership, and Philip, who was being held captive on the Los Angeles Mothership. "Diana plans to create an antidote to the human's Red Dust toxin by using the blood of a couple of people who have proven immune to it."

                Heather barely hid her surprise at his words. She had known about the testing done by Diana earlier that year, but hadn't heard the reason behind it. She shook her head, her red hair barely contained by the cap on top of her head.

                "The worst part of all of this is that I know one of the people whose blood she plans on using," Howie said. His voice barely contained the anger and betrayal he felt. "He's a member of the Column, and I know that if Diana catches Liam, she'll kill him."

                "Which Mothership is he stationed on?" she asked him. Heather knew that she'd heard the name, but couldn't remember where she'd heard it. It was obvious that Howie was worried about his friend and although she barely knew him, she'd come to care for him in that short time.

                "London."

                "If he managed to get off the Mothership and down to Earth, there's a good chance that the others might be able to smuggle him out of the country," she said as she touched him on the arm. "They'll do what they can to help him escape, you know that."

                Howie nodded, looking down at her hand resting on his arm and then up into her eyes. Something flashed between them before she pulled her hand away.

                "I'll get the message to Nigel," she said gently, "and I'll tell him to keep an ear open as to any news on your friend."

                He watched as she left the field hospital and boarded the shuttlecraft that would take her back to the Mothership.

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

                As he sat working at his desk, Howie was concerned about the package that he'd received from Heather earlier in the evening. Diana had sent orders that he was to modify the truth serum she'd created and used on several humans, including Mike Donovan, during their first invasion attempt into one that would work on their own people. He had a sinking suspicion as to whom she was planning to use it on since there was only one high-ranking Sirian prisoner who had information she wanted.

                "Damn," the intern swore to himself as he continued reading the notes on the creation of the serum that Diana had sent along with the orders. Altering the serum into one that would work on their people wouldn't be as difficult as he'd first thought. He kept reading the notes and had an idea as to how to solve their second problem. He then threw the folder at the wall in disgust, afraid of what he'd find if he continued to read the scientist's notes.

                "Howie, there's someone here to see you," his assistant said. The intern looked up from where he'd thrown the folder and saw that Nigel was standing beside her. "He said that it was important that he speak to you right away."

                "Thank you, Gwen." Both of them watched as she left the office. Nigel then turned and closed the door. "What brings you down here, Nigel?"

                "I got your message from Heather and we've got a big problem, Howie," he said. "Is there someplace we can go for a little privacy?"

                "I know of a place. Give me a minute to let Gwen know that Anthony's to cover my cases if something comes up." He stuck his head out the door and told her what to do in case someone needed emergency medical attention. "I'm ready."

                The two of them walked out the door together. Howie climbed into the driver's side of the jeep while Nigel slipped into the passenger side. They engaged in idle chatter as they drove toward the Bernstein house.

                The younger Visitor was shocked to see how much damage his people had inflicted on the city and he tried to shut the sound of the devastating silence out of his mind. He and Howie were the only living beings in the entire area. He jumped when Howie stopped in front of one of the houses on the block. It was obvious that Howie knew where he was going and why.

                "I brought you here be cause I wanted you to see something," he said as he led the young Sirian through the house. He didn't know how Nigel would take what he was about to show him, but he wanted to share it with one of the few friends he had. Opening the door to the deck, he walked through it. Nigel hesitatingly followed him.

                "We don't have time for this, Howie. I came to see you because we have a major problem that needs to be taken care of." His objections stopped when he saw the pool. Never in his lifetime had he seen so much open water collected in one spot. "What is this and why have you brought me here?" he finally asked, his voice full of amazement and wonder.

                "The humans call it a pool." The Visitor intern looked at it, still amazed that humans used such water to swim in. "It's used for a recreational activity called swimming. I've always wanted to try it, but I needed a partner." He looked away from the pool, his eyes drawn to Nigel. "I wanted to share this with a friend. I don't have that many, and it serves as a reminder for me of why we're fighting to help them reclaim their world."

                Nigel met Howie's gaze and tried to understand why he'd brought him here. It was a sign that he trusted him and that he'd shared this secret with no one else. He nodded his approval with what Howie wanted to do.

                "I'll keep an eye out for patrols for you," he finally said. "Afterwards, we need to talk."

                Howie removed his uniform and slid into the water. As his head vanished beneath the surface, Nigel became concerned. No one on the Home world ever had a reason to totally immerse themselves in water, let alone doing it for recreation. Water was used for the survival of all, not the indulgent pleasures of a few.

                After a few minutes, Howie's head broke the surface. He smiled at Nigel's apparent ill-at ease mood. It made him feel good to know that there was still something that made him uncomfortable after all.

                "You can take off your boots and stick your feet into the water if you're not comfortable with the idea of total immersion," he said. "Philip said that someone he knew had once mentioned the sensations he'd felt when he'd first learned to swim. When he told me about them, I was curious and wanted to see if they'd be the same for me."

                Nigel sat at the edge of the pool and unfastened his boots. Removing them and the socks he wore underneath them, he flexed his toes. He had to admit that the idea of feeling water against his skin was fascinating. He stuck his feet into the pool and the first thing that struck him as odd was the coolness. He'd never felt anything like it on the Home world!

                Howie watched him for a few minutes. He knew that Philip hadn't made a mistake in letting Nigel join the Column along with his two friends, Heather and Jessica. He then returned to swimming back and forth in the water.

                Nigel smiled as he watched Howie swimming in the pool. He found that the water splashing on his feet, the warmth of the sun reflecting off the deck and the light meal he'd eaten before leaving the ship was combining to make him forget the reason he'd wanted to talk to Howie away from the Legation. He knew that he'd have to be the one to begin talking about what they needed to do or nothing would be accomplished at this meeting.

                "Howie, we need to talk," the younger officer said insistently as he leaned over to look into the pool. "We have to come up with an idea on how we can save Philip without compromising our safety."

                "I know. Diana wants the truth serum she created modified so that it will work on our own people," the young intern said as he swam close to where Nigel sat. "You know as well as I do who she intends to use it on." He watched as Nigel nodded. "I think I might be able to find a trace element that I can add to it. If I can accomplish that part, I think I can come up with an serum antidote that can counteract the effects of the element."

                "What kind of reaction would it cause?"

                "If I can create a serum that can suspend all life functions, I could use it to induce a coma so deep that it would like he really was dead. Once that happens, we can only hope that they send him to the field hospital for an autopsy."

                "And if Diana decides to do the autopsy on the Mothership?" he asked. "How do we get to him then?"

                "I don't know." Howie looked up at Nigel and saw that he was lost in thought. He knew that Nigel was concerned and worried about Philip's situation, but was unaware that he was concerned about what his sister obviously knew, or suspected, about his ties to the Fifth Column. "What's wrong, Nigel?"

                "Nothing," he said. He was unwilling to let him know about what Lydia has said to him before he'd left the ship or how she now felt about the Column. He also didn't want anyone else to know how she felt about the Inspector General. He decided to change the topic of their conversation. "Do you think Jessica would like something like this?"

                "Maybe." Howie smiled. He knew of Jessica's attraction to Nigel, but he'd never heard Nigel speak of his own feelings for her, even though they were obvious to Howie. "But before bringing her here, you might want to learn how to swim."

                "Why?!" he asked incredulously. "Earth is on the brink of being dominated and destroyed by our people and you want me to indulge in senseless frivolity!"

                "Philip didn't seem to think that learning how to swim was frivolous when he suggested that some of us learn how," Howie snapped. He had to make the younger man understand that Philip wanted them to learn how to live on Earth. By learning how to swim, they might be able to fit in better among the Humans as well as overcome their own racial fear of water. "He thought we should know in case we had to abandon the Mothership over a large body of water and then go into hiding among the Humans."

                Nigel looked at the pool and then at Howie, ashamed at having lost his temper with the intern. He knew that Philip had always wanted them to experience things that they didn't know or have back on the Homeworld. Maybe now was the time for him to learn something he didn't know how to do.

                "Howie, would you teach me after we rescue Philip?" he asked. He tried to understand why Philip wanted them to learn, but decided to take this one thing on a leap of faith only because he trusted the Inspector General.

                "On one condition," Howie replied. When Nigel said nothing, the intern continued. "I want you to tell me everything you know about Heather."

                Nigel nodded at his friend's unusual request. In all the months he'd known Howie and been an active Columnist, he'd never heard the intern express an interest in any female before.

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

                As he drove back to the field hospital, Howie looked over at the silent figure sitting in the passenger section. Nigel had sat and watched him as he swam in the Bernstein's pool, but had made no move to join him. The young Security officer had fallen asleep in the passenger seat.

                Pulling into the lot at the hospital, Howie knew that the rest of the personnel were no doubt ready to leave, but he wasn't about to allow Nigel to pilot them back to the Mothership. Although he knew about the interrogation of Philip that he was supposed to witness, the intern decided to keep Nigel at the hospital overnight in order to protect him from the risk of exposure.

                "I need a gurney over here," Howie called to the rookie on duty inside the door.

                As the young man went to retrieve one, Howie walked over to where the shuttlecraft was parked. He stuck his head into the passenger section, wanting to let the pilot know that Nigel wouldn't be going back with them.

                "Can I help you?" a strong, clear voice asked him as he turned to leave.

                "I'm keeping Nigel overnight. He needs to get some sleep and I'm afraid that you're going to have to ferry the personnel back to the Mothership for the night," the young intern replied. He watched as Thomas nodded his head and began his pre-flight checklist. The intern slipped from the shuttlecraft and went inside with the gurney that carried Nigel.

                                                ****                                       ****                                       ****

                As the guards escorted him to the detention cell, Philip knew that there would be no way for the Resistance or the Fifth Column to rescue him. He had acknowledged and accepted the fact that his life was now forfeit and he'd ask no one, Human or Sirian, to risk their lives for him.

                 The only regret he had was that he hadn't had a chance to say goodbye to his brother or Mike. Perhaps he could ask Nigel to bring him some paper and a writing instrument. This way, Philip could tell Martin some of the things he'd never had a chance to when they were children or later as their careers took different paths in the military. When the guards shoved him into the cell and the door closed behind him, the former Inspector General was left alone with his thoughts.