Alien Caller Read online

  “If there is anything I can do to make this up to any of you then please ask. I will do whatever I can.” Cyrea had told him repeatedly he had no reason to feel guilty, but he did. Especially when he looked at the audience and knew how they had cringed with pain as they had listened to his testimony. An apology was the least he could give.

  “There is no need. You have committed no crime and your actions are his doing. Please continue.” Ayn Lar spoke bluntly as he was prone to doing, and David liked that in him. No bull, no subtle evasion or hint of duplicity. He was a damn good officer and a fine man or Leinian. It didn’t change his guilt, but it did refocus him on his testimony.

  “Thank you. As I say, I may be a beast but he is evil.” He watched the doctor shrink in shock in his chair across the room. Though in all likelihood, it was only at being addressed in such a way by a mere human.

  “Doctor Roze wanted knowledge. Pure and simple. To that end he was perfectly prepared to risk murdering me, murdering humans. No matter how he dresses it up with his fine words he believes his knowledge is more important than my life. More important I suspect, than anyone’s life, other than his own of course. Humans and probably Leinians as well, are little more than research animals to him. But it goes further than that. His knowledge was more important than Cyrea’s happiness, and was also more important than your law.”

  “It's sort of ironic in a way. The doctor has called me a beast, trying to bolster his own ego. But then he lost to the beast, and that’s what truly hurts, isn’t it doctor?” The doctor shrank further in his chair, and David knew with satisfaction that his words had hit home.

  “The doctor also called me a beast to prejudice you against me. Because beasts don’t have the same rights as people, therefore his crime seems less. He uses your prejudice and your fear as his evidence.”

  “But it’s a lie.”

  “What Doctor Roze did was something that I would never do to another. It is something no decent human being would do.” Save that he had met other doctors in white coats who would do exactly the same thing. Who had done far worse.

  “By his insults he implies that he is a civilized man, far above the crass beasts of the field. A scholar in the finest traditions of science. Intellectually superior. But what he actually is, is a criminal. He is a psychopath, a man with no sense of empathy, no moral compass, no regard for his victims, only what he can get from them.”

  “Had I died it would have meant nothing to him, other than perhaps the risk of getting caught and being punished. Indeed, at the end, he tried to kill me with the laser, not realizing that I expected something like that from him. Then, when that failed he urged Cyrea to shoot me, another great way to hide his crime. In that he is no different to a common thief, or a bully. The only difference is that he uses technology as his weapon, and that he believes himself above other criminals.”

  He turned and stared the doctor directly in the eyes. “Bad news doctor. You’re not.”

  “To finish I would only like to add one thing. I can forgive the doctor for what he did to me. I’m angry, yes, and still very sore, but as he is in the dock and Cyrea is unhurt, that’s enough for me. As such I will gladly accept whatever judgement this court hands down.”

  “But I will neither forget nor forgive him for what he risked to Cyrea. If I had died she would have been alone for the rest of her life. And her last image of me would have been as a crazed lunatic, a threat to her people, an image she would have carried to her grave, alone. That is beyond acceptable. For risking her well-being he must pay.” He watched the audience, fully a hundred Leinians, cringing in their seats as they imagined life without their mates, and knew it was another telling blow. The doctor though didn’t cringe and instead just stared at him, perhaps wondering what he was talking about. He didn’t understand the concept. It was just another measure of how different he was from the rest of his people.

  David thought he was finished then, and made to stand up, but Ayn Lar shook his head and he stayed seated. Cross examination was his only thought, though thus far he’d seen precious little of that. Even the defendant hadn’t been asked any questions other than to explain.

  But to his surprise, he was asked nothing more. Instead Cyrea came out to stand beside him, and there was a look of absolute determination in her eyes, and a barely suppressed anger underneath. She stood behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders, as she faced her peers. The room went completely silent and David realised he wasn’t the only one who was wondering what was going on.

  “You have all heard the crime and witnessed the criminal try to explain the inexplicable. His guilt is certain, as is his inability to understand it. But there is one thing you have not yet understood. A single lesson you have not learned. It is time to learn it.” Her voice was clear and certain, and unbelievable strong in that room. David had no doubt everybody there heard every single syllable.

  “This is my mate, David Hill. He is not a second class citizen. He is not a lesser creature who we have in our generosity accorded the rights of a Leinian. He is most definitely not a creature we study in a lab and dispose of when the experiment is over.”

  “Rather he is a man. A man of incredible courage and love. Of great decency and nobility. One who offered his very life to save mine. A man I am honoured to call my mate.”

  “When you judge Doctor Roze, I want you to remember that. His crime was not against an alien. Not against a second class Leinian. Not against a lesser creature of any sort. It was against a Leinian. A true Leinian, by his very soul, by bond, and by right.”

  Sensing that it was over, and trying not to turn red, David stood up and took Cyrea’s hand in his. Their part in this trial was over, and it was time for them to leave. No doubt they would be advised of the outcome in short order.

  They walked calmly out, trying to look as though they were both in control, but really they weren’t. Cyrea was still trying to fight back the anger, and David was simply trying to hold back the tears of pride and joy that kept trying to come. It was a long walk back to her cabin.

  Chapter Twelve

  Four months into the most enjoyable time of his life, David received the call he had been dreading for six long years.

  “Yeah.” The phone had rung, typically in the middle of the night, and he answered it still half asleep.

  “Dimock escaped at eight a.m. this morning,” a dry cool voice told him. Cold ran down David’s spine at the mention of the name, and there was a gone feeling in his guts.

  “Shit!” He wanted, needed to ask questions, but it was all that he could think to say in his sudden horror. Typically, before he could even begin to ask them, the receiver went dead in his ear with a click. He had been told all he needed to be told. All he would be. It was probably more than he should have been told.

  David was briefly angry at the caller. He desperately wanted to ask the most fundamental questions like, why was he free? Had he really escaped or had he been released again? Where had he been held? How much stronger was he? And above all else, where was he now? He needed to know so much more about the black hole his life had just fallen into, but he knew he would get no more answers this day. And he might not see the next one.

  He was angry with himself too. How could he have let this nightmare slip from his thoughts for so long? How could he have let his normal security precautions slip? How could he have been so lax? When Dimock was out there, hunting him as always, how could he ever have allowed his guard to slip, even for a second?

  Then there was the bitterness to deal with as he realized that his life of the last three or four months was over. It had been a joy, a reward greater than anything he had any right to expect, but it had always been a lie. A vacation from the truth. All the while he had known this lay in wait for him. Always. But now his paradise was gone, perhaps, probably never to return and he was hurting.

  One day he had known Dimock would get loose and would come for him. He had always known it. Somehow he had tried to forget
it as he enjoyed his new life. But now he knew it was something he could never forget. It would always be there until one of them was dead.

  He had no time. He needed to get his thoughts into order. He quickly controlled his anger and fear. Years of waiting for this single unending nightmare told him that there was no time left for anything but to survive and to protect Cyrea. The anger was wasted. Instead he knew he should be grateful. It was better that this happen now when the relationship was still new, rather than later when it could have been much worse. When maybe he wouldn’t have had the strength to do what he needed to do. When Cyrea, maybe wouldn’t have had the strength to move on with her life without him.

  If there was one thing that David knew, it was that he was in serious trouble. He was probably close to death. Dimock was loose and was coming for him. He had already had at least eighteen hours to make his way here. He could already be nearby. He could be at his door.

  “Cyrea, wake up.” There was no time to waste, and he quickly shook her awake, far too roughly for his liking. Again he had no choice. He hated being rough with her, but he knew her life as well as his could depend on every second and he was frightened. To die was bad enough, but to watch her die, and die the way Dimock would kill her, that was beyond his ability to stand.

  She roused quickly, questioning him immediately about her forceful treatment in the middle of the night, but he stalled her. He simply told her the barest facts of the matter; that one very nasty piece of work named Matthew Dimock was coming to kill him, and that she had to leave immediately. The sense of danger and death in his words brought her all the way back to consciousness and she started to speak, to ask questions, to protest, but he stopped her dead again. There was no time. She had to leave, and he told her so. Bluntly.

  Cyrea wanted to object, wanted to ask questions. Above all she wanted to help, to save him, but he knew she couldn’t. His decision was already made. It had been made years earlier. As he told her, hating himself with every word, she was his weakness. Alone and with careful preparation, and luck he could take Dimock. But if Cyrea was there he was doomed. She would be used as a hostage against him.

  It was the simple truth, but it wasn’t the whole truth. He knew it and he suspected she did too. Deep down inside he knew he was unlikely to survive. Very unlikely. He wasn’t afraid of death, and he could even make it less painful and shorter than Dimock would want. But he didn’t want to get Cyrea killed with him. That would be worse than death.

  Cyrea of course disagreed, angrily, but it was not a choice. As he told her, if she thought he was a nightmare in unarmed combat, Dimock made him look like a pussy cat. He made a battalion look like a field of daisies in front of a mower. He was faster, stronger, better prepared, and above all, much crazier and more sadistic. He would use Cyrea against him, and then he would kill them both. That couldn’t be allowed.

  When she kept arguing instead of moving, David grabbed her, far too roughly, dragged her up out of the bed and ordered her to dress. Then, before she’d even finished, he practically threw her out of the house, half naked, and ordered her never to come back until he came for her. Always assuming he survived.

  He told her to get all her people ready for immediate departure, and to take as many of the locals as they could with them. Empty the valley if they could. It was the last thing he’d ever wanted to do. But he had to. For their protection. They were targets for Dimock. Possibly hostages against David but more likely just plain good fun for him to kill. He knew she wouldn’t believe him, wouldn’t understand the concept of a psychopath. Even other psychopaths wouldn’t understand Dimock, and he shouted it at her a few more times for good measure. Until she finally agreed to do as he said. Though she clearly didn’t want to.

  Perhaps she might have gained some idea of how serious the danger was when he broke open the secret weapon’s store in front of her, even as she was still screaming at him and getting in the Jeep, his keys already in her hands. The hidden trap door under the porch leading down to a well concealed basement where he stored his most deadly and highly illegal weapons must have come as a surprise to her. Even in months of living with him and with the bugging of his cabin, Cyrea clearly hadn’t known it existed and nor had her people. Cyrea’s mouth dropped in surprise. It dropped even lower as he started pulling out everything from rocket launchers to anti tank weapons. One thing about being in the army, he was always prepared.

  She gaped at the rapidly growing arsenal, forgetting in her surprise to leave, and he yelled at her again. It provoked an immediate reaction as her temper flared once more, and he hated himself for doing it. But he had no time to react, as he told himself. He had only barely time to prepare, if that. Even as she screamed at him, he screamed back louder, ordering her away from him in a way he would never forgive himself for.

  Finally she gave in and fired up the truck.

  As she drove off in the four wheel drive, dirt flying everywhere, he heard her still screaming at him that he was a bastard over the roar of the engine, and regretted again how hard he had been with her. Deep inside something within him was withering under her attack. But he knew, and so did she whether she admitted it or not, that it was for her protection, as well as his. The chances were that he might die, though he didn’t tell her that, but she probably guessed. He didn’t want her dead too. Especially not for something that was entirely his fault.

  He spent the rest of the night preparing his forward defences, building barricades and fortifying his fall back positions. The perimeter alerts and surveillance equipment at least had been set up years before when he first moved in. The flick of a switch and suddenly he had the entire wood for at least a mile in every direction under silent observation.

  Naturally, the house itself was far more secure than it looked. Giant steel pins held the logs together while lashings of special resins bonded the entire lot into solid walls and frames. Inside, the log walls had been lined with good steel armour plate as had the roof. The doors likewise were inches thick and triple bolted with thick slabs of metal. The windows were bulletproof, blast proof and shock proof. Both the windows and the sliding armour glass doors also had sliding steel plates behind them that locked perfectly into place. Behind the thin boards that stopped anyone gaining access to the underneath of the house was a two foot thick steel reinforced concrete wall that could double as house piles.

  It had cost a lot of money, time and sweat rebuilding the house to his specifications, but that night he knew it had all been worth it. Every cent. It was only a question of whether it had been enough.

  It was dawn by the time that he finally felt prepared. Ready to face the battle he should have finished a decade earlier. Of course the next part was the wait, always the most difficult time. If Dimock followed his traditional pattern he would attack hard and fast. Chances were he’d use the maximum fire-power he could lay his hands on.

  David rather imagined he’d try for a helicopter gunship. Terrific fire power, high speed, and able to attack from any direction, it was an ideal attack vehicle. In all likelihood Dimock would still have some connections to get hold of one. That was one thing about him. He might be a psychopath who killed his allies as often as his enemies, but he always seemed to have a lot of well-armed friends willing to help him out. Chances were that was how he’d escaped the top secret prison he’d been held in for the last seven years. The likelihood was that he’d also killed a lot of people escaping. Whether he needed to or not.

  A chopper he could deal with though. Sadly he knew Dimock would probably also guess that he was ready for him. So he would probably have a backup plan. Either a second line of assault or a way of surviving a crash. But then he knew a chopper was only one possibility. There were also tanks to consider, long range rocket attacks, and the direct hostage taking approach. Anything to get him to come out of his castle and fight on his ground.

  If he tried the last, David didn’t quite know what he’d do. But at least he’d made sure that Cyrea was safe. He had n
o family to use against him, and his nearer neighbours, all of them were aware of the Leinians' presence and were all hopefully aboard the alien spaceship, which even now should be preparing for emergency take-off. He had asked Cyrea to see to that. She might hate him at the moment, but she wasn’t stupid. She would do as he asked.

  He spent the morning waiting. Monitoring the surroundings through his surveillance cameras and binoculars, and listening to the police bands. The one thing he was sure of was that when Dimock approached he would create confusion and chaos, and leave a body count higher than a football score. The chances were the police would respond.