Prophet of ConFree (The Prophet of ConFree) (61 page)

"Tacnet is down, Prophet," she replied. It was good to hear her voice.

"How about the tacmap? Can you locate Delta, any Deltas?"

"Tacmap is also down, Prophet. I have been attempting to counter enemy jamming without results."

"Thank you, Honey."

Tourguide watched me without comment.
What are you afraid of
, I thought.

Nothing
. The word almost echoed in my head.
Afraid of nothing.

There were a lot of Brights wandering around the park and plenty of them sitting at tables and benches as well. I learned later that they did not spend a lot of time indoors. They thought it un-natural, and preferred to live outside in sunlight and shade and soft breezes.

With night coming on, the sky was full of dark purple clouds and it started to rain. I did not realize it at first, but then the rain increased and came down in heavy sheets. I looked up in surprise as none of it was hitting us. The rain was breaking against an invisible shield that covered the entire park, softly roaring as it struck the barrier and blew away into the wind. A warm thrill crept over my flesh. Everyone in the park seemed to be enjoying the rain, looking up calmly to watch it.

Δ

The following morning, Tourguide woke me up early. He had slept on a sofa in the little room. I guess he was the official alien minder. I tried to sneak past him once at night to take a walk, but he had awoken and I gave up on the plan.

I had no idea what was coming. About all I could hope for was that some or hopefully all of my Delta brothers and sisters had survived. After that, I had no idea. Maybe we could all share a cage in the zoo. That's about as far as my thought processes carried me at that stage. Find Delta. After that, anything was possible. After all, we had nothing to lose. I had these visions of stealing a Bright ship and heading for home. It wasn't very realistic.

Tourguide was wearing lizard camfax that morning. He insisted that I leave Blackie in the cube. He didn't take me to breakfast as I had been expecting. Instead we boarded a military aircar just outside the main entranceway. Two other camfaxed passenger Brights were there, as well as the driver. We shot away from the Blockhouse and rode the air as some strange music serenaded us. Tourguide said something brisk to the driver who turned off the music. That was the first time I had heard him speak. So! You don't speak unless you're upset. I filed that away in the memory banks.

We drove away from the Blockhouse, with an extensive forest to our right and a flight of delta sharks darting across the sky. It was a fine, bluish sky with scattered dark clouds. Another giant blockhouse came into view – another! This one was made of dark green stone – almost like marble. It was most impressive. Another gigantic fortress. Blockhouse II, I thought. We stopped outside in a huge aircar park that was crowded with military aircars and airbuses and airtrucks. This was a much larger installation than the first one. Lizard-camfaxed Brights could be seen in the carpark and going in and out of the main entranceway. We got out of the car and walked through an imposing entrance.

They took me to a large office inside one of the second story blocks. As we entered, I noted the room was flooded with sunlight from what looked like skylights, and from a massive wall-to-wall plex window facing outside the installation. It was a spectacular view, but I concluded immediately that both the skylight and the panoramic window were simports since I knew those stone blocks did not have any openings on the exterior walls.

A delegation of Bright officers clad in lizard camfax fatigues were gathered around a large desk, and every one of them was fixated on me from the instant I came through the doorway. I picked out the general immediately, even though I had no idea what any of the insignias meant. You don't need insignias to spot that – the others were clustered around him like subordinates, like bodyguards, alert to his every gesture. He was certainly a general or the Bright equivalent. Tourguide was clearly nervous, one hand on my arm, but he was not sending me any messages.

A general – damn! I snapped to attention and braced. The gang just stared at me. The general came over to me and stood there looking into my eyes. He seemed neither young nor old. Ageless, I guess. The glow from his face made me blink. The others clustered around as if afraid the alien was going to attack the general. I stood there like a statue.

The general reached both hands out to encase my head, without touching it. He stood there for some time like that. Eventually he seemed satisfied, and gestured to another Bright, who did the same, holding his hands palms toward my head. Then another one did it. And another. I guess this was their version of brain scans. And I was thinking only one thing.
My friends. My comrades. Brothers and sisters. Delta. I want to see my friends.

One of the Brights seemed reluctant to leave after examining me. I looked closer at him, and was stunned at what I saw. I flashed back to the past: He had been sprawled in the mud, his brilliant armor showing several bad hits in the chest area. I went to my knees, exhausted. He was still moving. His right hand was trembling. His left fumbled at his helmet. A visor snapped open. I looked in. He appeared to be…luminous. Bright. Of course, these were the Brights. He looked almost human – an old, tough soldier, resigned to his fate. His right hand closed over a flask that might have been a canteen. He struggled to get it to his lips but he could not do it. He was fading fast. I reached for his canteen and my hand covered his. I lifted the canteen up to his lips and put my other hand in back of his helmet to hold his head up so he could get at the canteen.

It was him! The Bright, the old soldier! And he was alive! I reached out for him, overwhelmed, and held him by the shoulders. He smiled, and sent me a thought, maybe for luck:
I thank you
.

Thank you? Why was he thanking me? I should thank him, for opening my mind to what it meant to be human, to reach out to someone you don't know and hold his hand as he dies. Only he's not dead, he's alive – wonderful!

After that, they had a little conference by the desk – except nobody said anything. They were clearly communicating, glances flashing back and forth, facial gestures of agreement or disagreement, then a long still period when I figured the general was making his decision or issuing orders.

Tourguide was touching my back gently, in a reassuring manner. Hopefully it meant that things were going well.

Δ

Tourguide took me from the general's office to another room, a long walk via a corridor that evidently cut through several of those huge stone blocks. It was a very large room, kind of like an extra-large lounge that was full of glidechairs and plastic tables and sofas. A giant simport let in the light. The room was empty except for us. Tourguide led me to a table and we sat there. A little Bright girl came out of nowhere and set down a tray of snacks and drinks. She was just like an angel – she had everything except the wings. I watched her depart through a door.

My friends
, I thought.
Why won't you tell me about my friends?
Were they all dead? Were they hesitant to tell me?

No worry
, he said – in my mind. It was so clear, so powerful, that my mouth opened in surprise.

Where are they?
I asked mentally.
I want to see them, let me see them!

Soon.
Again, clear as a bell ringing on a frosty morning.

Soon. Why soon? Why not now, now, now. When is soon?

Soon.

"Why can’t we talk?" I asked. "Do you talk?"

Language
.

We helped you,
I thought.
We bombed Kratar. We bombed the Demons. We are friends. You should help us. Do you know about Kratar?

We know.

A great relief flooded over me. They know about Kratar. All right, then where are my comrades?

We are soldiers,
I thought angrily.
Why do you treat us like this? We risked our lives, to attack your enemies. Why do you treat us so shamefully?

I could see that my thoughts had hit home. He stood up at once, almost at attention, and sent me one more word.

Friends.
A door opened in one wall and Arie and Smiley walked in, dressed in Bright white civvies. I leaped up so fast that my chair went gliding away to bounce off another table.

"Arie! Smiley!" We embraced fiercely. It was so wonderful to see them both. The world slowed and stopped, for just a moment. All was well.

"It's so good to see you, Prophet," Arie said. "You're looking great!"

"They know about Kratar," I said. "That's why we're still alive, I guess."

"How about the others?" Smiley asked. "Any word on them?"

"You haven’t seen anyone?" I asked. "Damn, no, I have no word."

Another door opened. Doggie and Saka walked in, dressed in Bright civvies. They were alight with joy. It looked like they had just been reunited. A crowd of Brights stood by in the doorway as Doggie and Saka joined us.

"Good to see you folks," Doggie said. I could tell he was overjoyed but didn’t want to show it.

"Prophet, are they talking with you in your mind?" Saka asked. "They're all over me. Can you talk with them that way?"

"Yes, Saka, we've been chatting but I've got a long way to go. It's great to see you two made it out of the ship alive, too. I've been worrying myself sick about everybody, and they wouldn't tell me a thing."

"Has anyone seen Blackie?" Doggie asked, mournfully.

"I've got him, Doggie," I said. "He's in my cube. He's fine."

Doggie let out a whoop and then calmed down. All was right with the world, it seemed.

General Huynh and Bird walked into our party, and they were accompanied by a whole slew of camfaxed Brights, including that Bright general who had personally psyched me.

"At ease, at ease," General Huynh said as we joyfully mobbed him and Bird. "All right, count off. Is this everyone? Where is Scout? Where is Bees?"

Δ

The Bright hospital was located in the same installation, in a section with spotless white floors, walls and ceilings. Soft sunlight filtered gently into a colorful patient cube that looked more like a high-end vacation villa. As we entered the cube, we saw a cluster of young Bright lovelies gathered around a patient bed. Scout sat in a chair drawn right up to the patient. At first I could see only his back, but I would know him anywhere. Our Bright escorts hung back to give us a little privacy.

Bees was in the bed, eyes closed, unmoving. She looked terrible, ragged raw scarlet skin all over her face.

"Scout," I whispered. "How is she?" He raised his head and turned to look us over, startled by our intrusion.

"Delta! Oh my God, You're all here! Oh my God, you're all all right!" He looked bad too, battered and bruised and exhausted.

"How is Bees?" I asked again.

"Sleeping. She's sleeping. She was badly burnt. I thought she wasn't going to make it. I thought…" He choked up, overcome with emotion. "She's all right. She's getting the best of care. She tells me these girls are angels. I believe her." The angels were touching Bees' peeling face with little wands that dispensed a faint airgel.

"What happened to her?" the general asked.

"A-suit malfunctioned and overheated. She was unconscious and couldn't do a thing. It was close. So close! Then the Brights spotted us. Man! These people are wonderful. They saved her life, that's for sure."

"What happened to you?" I asked.

"They tried to separate us. I went crazy, I attacked them. They fought back. I lost. Later I raised so much hell that they let me in to see her. I haven't left her side since then. I don’t dare sleep; I have these nightmares where somebody tries to take her away from me." He was twitching, sweating, dark rings under his eyes.

"Get some sleep, Scout," the general said. "Delta is here now – and we're not leaving. We'll watch over her. Don’t you worry anymore."

Δ

When Bees awoke, it was indeed a happy time for us all. Despite her serious injuries, she could not stop smiling. It was the smile of a saint, a far-off, dreamy smile that spoke of distant, better worlds. Her face was pink, but was healing rapidly to its normal darker tone. We sat around her bed as Scout held an ice water cup to her lips and the lovely little Bright angel nurses continued treating her skin with an invisible mist.

"I was dying," she recalled, quietly. "My guardian angel was right there, standing by Scout. He was so beautiful – shining like a star. He reached out a hand to me and told me it was time to go. I wasn't afraid at all. I could see the Gates of Heaven behind him, opening. What a glorious sight. I felt so good. I wanted to go there and see my mother. But Scout kept begging me not to leave him. He asked if I loved him, and said if I did, I should not leave him. He was carrying me through the forest, and he
ordered
me not to leave him. I felt so sorry for him. I knew I was dying, but how could I leave him? I thought of the wonderful future we could have together – everything I had always dreamed of, in my wildest, most impossible dreams. Yes, how could I leave him? What would he do? It was not fair! I asked my angel to please give me more time, as I did not want to leave Scout. He smiled sadly, and made the sign of the cross, and faded away."