Alien Caller (51 page)

The clothes
were pretty much what he’d expected. An expensive looking silk
jacket with matching short skirt, and a blouse of silk inlaid with
hand embroidered designs. Matching silk underwear, complete with
garter belt and stockings, and Italian high heels. She’d brought no
towel with her, and from the fact that she’d worn underwear, he
knew she had to have carried the togs with her and changed out in
the open, neatly folding and laying down each item of clothing as
she removed it. It was a chilling image. Rebecca’s had been a very
slow and methodical preparation for her jump.

Mixed in with
her clothing David found her jewellery. She had an expensive
looking ladies Rolex, gold, silver and diamond necklaces, bracelets
and a quartet of rings with massive stones. Hundred’s of thousands
of dollars worth of jewellery at a guess, just sitting in a heap of
clothing in the woods. And she considered herself bankrupt! Before
she’d jumped Becky had divested herself of everything from her
previous life. He was almost surprised she’d been wearing anything
at all, but guessed that she’d either found some trace of happy
memories in her swim suit, or else she wanted to make a good
looking corpse.

They gathered
up the clothing and threw it in the back of the flier, before
returning to the air. If someone had spotted it, there would have
been an immediate outcry about someone jumping followed by a week
long search, and then Becky’s formal presumption of death. It had
happened twice in the time since David had lived nearby. It had
happened too many other times as well. Dead Man’s Leap attracted a
regular trickle of people either morbidly curious or actively
suicidal. They were just lucky no-one had found her clothes.

Two miles back
along the trail to the cliff, they found her car, a top of the line
Jaguar sports car with all the extras, and a collection of spirit
bottles in the back. Jack Daniels and bourbon mainly. Becky had a
serious drinking problem, and from the smell she had also been
smoking some grass, though at least he could find no needles as
they went through the contents. A promising sign as he told Cyrea.
Hard drug habits were notoriously difficult to break. It was parked
under a tree at the end of the road, and even after a week in the
open, it was still untouched by vandals. The forest park was a very
quiet, very law abiding area.

On the
dashboard he found her note, and breathed a sigh of relief. All it
said was ‘I’m Sorry’, and it was addressed to no-one at all. But it
was enough to tell him everything he needed to know.

The first
person to see it would have phoned the police. That, more than
anything else would have stuffed up the kids’ lives. The fact that
there wasn’t a man hunt going on, and that her car and clothes
hadn’t been touched suggested no-one had yet seen it. The fact that
the note was in her car, told him she hadn’t left it somewhere
else, like her home where friends might find it and call the
police. The lack of an address told him she hadn’t wanted anybody
in particular to know she was dead. The kids were safe, for a
while. After showing it to Cyrea, he tore it up into little strips,
set fire to the remains, and tossed the ashes out the window.

After searching
the car thoroughly, David placed her clothes on the passenger seat,
her jewellery in the glove box, chucked the bottle collection in
the back of the flier, and decided to drive it back to his place.
No point in creating a panicked search and rescue by the first
ranger to find the car and wonder where the owner was. To his
surprise and happiness, after checking with her people, Cyrea sent
the flier back to their place on autopilot, another huge advantage
over any earthly plane, and shared the ride back with him.

It was a slow
drive as the sports car was totally unsuited for the gravel roads
even on a sunny day, but it was surprisingly enjoyable for all
that. David had never owned such a road going monster and probably
never would. A hundred thousand odd dollars’ worth of car would be
a huge bite out of his savings, and he couldn’t justify it. But the
feel of the heated leather seats, the totally orgasmic roar of its
V12, and the sheer luxury that surrounded them was enough to make
him regret that decision, just a little.

Meanwhile Cyrea
had her hands full mastering the air conditioning and the stereo,
which required a degree in rocket science to operate. Though when
it did they discovered it could just about lift the car off the
ground by itself. The top popped down at the push of a button at
least, and the warm sun suddenly streamed down on them. They
quickly rejected Becky’s own CD’s as unbearable. There was
something about the completely tuneless, toneless modern groups
that was simply annoying, and those that had any quality at all
seemed to be remakes. But once she had the radio figured out they
quickly found a classic hits station, and started singing their
lungs out while the car slowly bucked and slid its way through mile
after mile of paradise.

The sun was
shining, the engine singing, fresh air blew in their faces, and a
cloud of dust disappeared in their wake. It was as though they had
been reborn somewhere along the way, and they felt wonderful. The
gloom had left them beginning with the burning of her note, and the
music sent the last of it packing. After all as Cyrea told him, she
was alive and well, living in the land of lust and love. This was
her past. David just hoped she was right.

Back at his
place, the car looked absolutely perfect beside his cottage, making
it seem more like a chalet rather than a modest cabin. But it
showed up the four wheel drive in the most terrible way. It was bad
enough that it looked so big and clumsy by comparison, but then
every dent, every well-earned scratch on the truck looked like
centuries of neglect and abuse compared to the perfect paint of the
bright red sports car. And he liked his truck. It had a certain
ruggedness to it that spoke to him of strength, reliability and of
getting through, no matter what, and it had served him well for the
past four years. Besides, a sports car was completely useless on
gravel roads.

He parked the
Jaguar behind the house, determined to keep the temptation out of
his sight. Besides, if no-one knew it was there, no-one would know
Becky was either in the region or missing.

On the dash he
left a note, which simply said she’d gone hiking and would be back
in a few days. If anybody did spot the car, at least there was a
ready explanation, and a way of averting panic by the
authorities.

He also lifted
her wallet from her very expensive jacket, wanting to do some
checking on the net in due course, just in case a man hunt was
underway, and also knowing he had to make some selective purchases
for her in town later. Perhaps a miniskirt and a tiny top. Enough
to make her believe she had some clothes, while still driving Ayer
out of his tiny adolescent male mind. Then again perhaps he’d get
Alice to do the shopping since she seemed to have a penchant for
buying scandalous clothing to bait men.

Lastly he
locked the car, making sure it would be there for her when she
returned for it if she wanted it. But he had a feeling that her
values might be changing with every day she spent with Ayer. He
certainly hoped so. The Leinians had a dreadful way of converting
everybody they met into better people, as he continually complained
to Cyrea.

Before he had a
chance to get on with the rest of the day’s chores, Cyrea reminded
him that they also had a tendency to make them very happy, as she
placed him in a lip lock. He kissed her back automatically, and for
his effort was pushed down backwards over the car’s bonnet as she
informed him of her intentions in no uncertain terms.

“The rest can
wait. I won’t.” Her arms started crushing him too her, and he could
feel her exquisite curves pressing him as he wanted. He didn’t
exactly object, and as a result found himself being guided firmly,
backwards into the house, and then into the bedroom. If he had
tried to resist he suspected she would have carried him there. He
was surprised by the intensity of her sudden passion, but as always
welcomed it totally. Pretty soon she had him pressed up against the
bed, with the door behind them slammed shut.

“You my Love,
are the most wonderfully kind and decent man. So very clever and
insightful. The more I know you, the more I wonder why I or my
people have ever doubted you. And the more I know you the more I
love you.” Her shoes were quickly shucked off into the corner of
the room, while her hands started playing as they both wanted.

“Today you made
me so proud to be your mate that my heart wants to explode.” She
started pulling off his top hurriedly while his shoes quickly
joined hers with a thump.

“Don’t do that.
I want your heart to keep beating.” He kissed her happily.
“Besides, does this mean I’m entitled to a reward?”

“Such as?” She
pushed him down on the bed and then covered him with herself as she
worked on his belt. This was her game and she was in a hurry to
play it.

“Flying
lessons?”

“You’re about
to fly love. I promise you that.” And when it came down to it he
knew she was right.

Chapter
Twenty One

'Doctor
Frankenstein Lives!' David stared at the headline on the front page
of the newspaper and a chill ran through him. He didn't need to
read any of the print below to know what it was about. Or the other
articles on the front pages of the other papers in front of
him.

Still he
planned to, and he grabbed a copy of each of the papers on the
stand as he stood waiting to go through the checkout. He even
started reading them since there was something of a queue in front
of him.

It wasn't the
project that had built Dimock that had been unearthed. As far as he
could tell. It was another one. One of the many. But it still ran
along the same lines. Human experimentation, often on unwilling
subjects, and with disastrous results. It was always the same. But
as terrible as that was it wasn't what bothered him most. What set
his heart racing and his hopes crashing was that he knew where the
story had to have come from.

It was the
Leinians.

They'd broken
their word to him. Crossed the line in the sand that he'd drawn for
them. They had done what they had said they wouldn't. They had
released confidential security information.

It was them.
The information was too good. There were too many names, too much
information. There were photos.

He should have
felt betrayed, and maybe he did a little. He also knew that now
that they'd started down this path it had become his duty to turn
them in. After all now that they'd started down this road there was
no telling where it would end or what would be exposed. But he
wasn't going to do that. Instead he was going to trust them and
pray that they knew what they were doing. For good or ill he had
been turned, and he could never betray Cyrea. And strangely that
decision came easily to him. He knew no guilt for it. No
remorse.

What had been
done by these monsters in white coats was unconscionable. It should
never have been allowed. And if they were held to account for their
crimes that was as it should be. If they dragged others down with
them, so be it. In the wake of Dimock he understood only too
clearly that these things should never be allowed, and if all of
this had been out in the open from the start it never would have
happened.

In the wake of
Dimock he saw many things so much more clearly than he had. And he
guessed that Dimock was also the reason the Leinians had done this.
They understood the danger. And they understood right and wrong. As
idealistic and naïve as this was, they were on the side of right.
As he should have been.

That they had
done this; in the end it wasn't even an issue for him. The only
issue was how.

The only way
anyone could have got it was to have hacked into the project's
computers. To have dug out all the files. The records of what had
been tried and what had happened. And that was on computer systems
that were the best protected on the entire planet. The chances were
that many of them weren't even on line.

And if he knew
that, others were thinking exactly the same thing. Others who would
not be happy. Others who would even now be hunting them.

So what to do?
He couldn't help them. That would be a step too far, though of
course he would try to impress on them the danger. Very carefully.
But he couldn't stop them either. That would be wrong. Morally
wrong even if it was his duty. And he couldn't turn them in.

As he stood
there reading, waiting to unload his groceries, David was torn.
More badly torn than he had ever been in his life. Which was why he
came to the decision he did. The only decision he could make.

He put the
papers back on the display and when the lady in front moved on
started unloading his groceries on to the counter. Sometimes the
best thing an agent could do was to do nothing. And more than that
to know nothing.

Chapter
Twenty Two

They sat in the
doctor’s office, slowly becoming more and more worried while he sat
in the next room, staring at the computer screen and mumbling
incoherently. They could see he was shocked by what he’d found; in
fact Doctor Fossiter was slowly turning grey in front of them, but
he still refused to tell them what was wrong. Instead he just
punched more keys and stared in apparent horror at the results,
while they stared in horror at him in turn, unable to see the
screen for themselves.