Archangel Crusader (27 page)

"Tori, at last. Are you all right? I was worried-sick. I called all our friends trying to find you. Where have you been?"

"I'm fine, Love. And Jennifer is fine, too. We are in Little Rock, Arkansas."

"What are you doing in Arkansas?"

"I'll explain when I see you. I need you. I'd like to come to New York right now."

"Listen, I have a better idea. I'm driving to Washington D.C. today. I could join you in Little Rock afterwards for a few days."

"I'd love it. In that case, I'll need a favor... Not for me, for Jennifer..."

Later that day, driving his company Mercedes, Jean-Marc Fontaine found himself sharing his impressions in French with a huge black and white feline answering to the name of Shadow. From the back seat, the cat oversaw his every moves with disdain. On the passenger side lay the attaché-case containing the compromising file on Chemitek Enterprises.

Thinking back, Jean-Marc Fontaine had never seen Miss Goldbloom so animated or so worried as this morning. She’d surprised him, losing her reserve like that.

"I hope you weren't joking about offering me a job if I lost this one!" She’d dropped the heavy folder on his desk, her questioning eyes looking straight at him for a change. "There is enough in there to sink this company with fines and send the CEO behind bars for a few years. I broke all the security codes but I was careful. They won't find out anytime soon." She’d blushed a little. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" The crimson had claimed her whole face.

"We are doing the right thing," Jean-Marc had assured her. "Do not worry so much. Except for the culprits, everyone will be fine."

While driving, Jean-Marc usually reverted to French whenever thinking aloud. Shadow the cat listened between naps, one ear shivering once in a while. Fontaine could have sworn the animal knew he was going to meet Jennifer from the minute he’d picked it up. A good man this Bill Jensen... If nothing else, it said something about Michael Tanner’s choice of friends and business associates. "Right, Shadow?"

The cat yawned in approval. Obviously he knew that already.

When Jean-Marc stopped for gas, he bought a paper and scanned the headlines. What was the world coming to? Even the serious New York Times reported UFO sightings in France, Arkansas, and Nevada, linking the latter to an unexplained earthquake!

*****

Within a few hours, Jean-Marc sat in Debbie's office in Washington, delivering the dossier on Chemitek. Hopefully, it would guarantee an indictment. With the support of several environmental organizations involved in the Crusade, he could now rest assured that the harmful dumping would stop.

"I do not understand how or why Michael does all this," Fontaine told Debbie over another cup from the coffee machine.

"It's extraordinary, isn't it? I still don't quite understand it myself. The story he tells is unbelievable and I suspect he did not tell me all. Such selfless dedication amazes even me, a friend since childhood."

"Tori says he used to be different." Jean-Marc sipped the tepid brew.

Debbie nodded. "He's changed so much, I can hardly recognize him. Last time I saw him he seemed empowered by the Crusade and the results are beyond any reasonable expectation. It's almost as if he wasn't human anymore, Mr. Fontaine." Debbie’s hand shook a little when she drank from her coffee mug.

"Please call me Jean-Marc."

"All right, Jean-Marc. I'm worried about Michael. His own life does not seem to matter to him anymore. If it weren't for Jennifer, I doubt that he would still be among us. He always had charisma and passion, but now he shows great control. Yet, something in him scares me, as if he has become some kind of mystic."

"What do you mean?"

"Since Jennifer’s return, he acts like a secluded monk. He hardly sees or talks to anyone. He spends most of his time in deep meditation. He has withdrawn from the world he's trying to save, as if he was no longer part of it."

"But, I thought he was active in the Crusade!" To Jean-Marc, this didn’t make any sense. Fishing for gum in his pocket, he offered a piece to Debbie.

She accepted with a smile. "The campaign he started gets stronger and more successful as time passes, but without his physical presence. He manages all of it in total isolation. Apparently, the Crusade only needs the power of his mind."

"Really?" Jean-Marc felt renewed respect.

"Frightening, isn't it, to know that one person can have so much power."

"How do you know all this if he does not keep in touch?"

"Jennifer keeps me informed. She's worried about her father too. He speaks in riddles, scarcely eats or drinks. I fear for his health... And his sanity... Since you're going there, could I ask you to see if we can help him, and please keep me informed?"

Jean-Marc rose from his chair. "I will be glad to oblige, Debbie. Thanks again for everything."

Debbie walked him to the door.

Winking, Jean-Marc added, "I'd like to talk some more, but I hate to think what that cat will do to my car if I leave him alone too long."

*****

Immediately after his victory over Krastinios, Michael understood that he had only won a battle. Although he had destroyed his archenemy, the war itself had yet to be fought. Meditating in isolation, he hoped to achieve the level of consciousness that would allow him to participate in the great conflict to come: his father's war.

"Daddy?" Jennifer sent a mental request as she entered the small alien craft where Michael had established his new quarters.

"Yes, Jen. Come in, honey." He eased out of his meditating position.

"I brought you something to eat." She hesitated only an instant before setting the tray aside, then settled in a comfortable position, sitting in mid air close to her father.

"Thank you, Sweetheart, but I'm not hungry. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. This is a purification ritual. I want to become a better person."

"I was wondering... About Krastinios... How come he was so nice and so mean at the same time?"

"No one is all good or all bad, Jennifer. The best people can be mean at times, and the meanest people can be sweet as honey. Although in this case, I believe the sweetness was fake."

"Isn't there anybody who is only good and never mean?"

"I don't think so, but there is someone close to it. As a matter of fact, I was just on my way to see him. Now that you met your mother, how would you like to meet your grandfather and your grandmother?"

"The one who hurt you when you were a kid?"

"No. My real father... He may seem a little strange at first, but he's a really good guy. He lives in a spacecraft like this one, but much bigger. He's not from this planet."

"An alien? My grandfather? Cool..."

"He only looks weird."

"How weird?"

Michael sent Jennifer a mental picture of his father. He knew how sensitive his daughter was and wanted to prepare her.

"Wow!" she exclaimed. "I've seen him before... In a dream, I think..."

"I thought you never dreamed."

"I just remembered now. Let's go see him."

They straightened into their invisible chairs, and Michael guided Jennifer's mind into focus on the controls of the alien craft. She followed his mind patterns, observing how he set it in motion, ever so gently. Michael could sense her curiosity and her excitement. He enjoyed surprising the young girl with exhilarating experiences. She picked up the challenge every time. He liked that in his daughter.

The ride, despite the incredible acceleration, proved smooth and light. No jolts, no temperature changes, no eardrum sensations, not even a swishing sound. Just a smell of sweet licorice... It took only a few seconds to leave the atmosphere. Once in space, the whole section of the hull facing Earth became transparent and Jennifer stared in awe at her native planet. Michael guided the craft toward the shaded side of the moon where his father's vessel waited.

The Blue Angels' ship was in uproar when they docked inside. Even Amrah's private quarters bustled with activity. Maria, in a turquoise leather gown decorated with beads, gave orders to naked aliens who hurried to bring the things she mentally ordered. The new addition of southwestern furniture attested to her personal touch. The material, although replicated, looked and felt real enough. Maria stopped in her tracks at the sight of the young girl holding Michael's hand. She stared as tears betrayed her joy when she touched Jennifer's long silky hair.

"Such a beautiful child, Mikie... Jennifer, you're even prettier than I imagined. No wonder your dad is so proud of you. Would you like some chocolate? I had some replicated."

"Chocolate?" Jennifer's eyes lit up as Maria seized a crystal cup full of chocolate candy in gold and silver wrappings.

"Mother, you said the magic word," Michael teased. Then he looked around and finally asked, "Where is Amrah?"

"Your father is very busy with the coming invasion and all, but he should be here any minute, since he knows you are aboard." Maria nervously fingered the arrowhead of her necklace.

Jennifer, munching on chocolate, stared openly at the nakedness of the bluish beings apparently working to furnish the place to Maria's wishes. The older woman made her guests sit on a couch, like the perfect hostess of her strange new home.

Jennifer glanced with surprise at the dream catchers decorating the bulkheads, the Kachina dolls on synthetic shelves beside long pipes that smelled like sweet burnt leaves. Brightly colored rugs covered the smooth floors.

"Dad, lots of people don't believe in aliens. Why?"

"I guess it takes seeing to believe. Human nature tends to fear the unknown. For many, it's more comfortable to deny than to fear. Right, Mom?"

Maria chortled, playing with a lacy handkerchief, obviously delighted by the discovery of her granddaughter.

"But there is nothing to fear if they are nice, right?" Jennifer asked.

"Nothing at all," Maria answered. “They are so powerful, they can protect you from any evil spirit. Your grandfather would never let anything bad happen to any of us. Right, Mikie?"

"I'm afraid they are not all like that, Mom," Michael objected. "Krastinios was the son of a particularly bad one, a snake-alien."

"I don't like snakes," Jennifer declared with conviction.

"Neither do I...” Michael echoed. “Here comes your grandfather."

Maria bent toward Jennifer and whispered, "Amrah is very old and wiser than a medicine man. You should treat him with great respect."

Amrah appeared then, and his mental presence entered the three minds at the same time. They all stared at each other for a few seconds, sharing in a warm, silent greeting. Jennifer stayed in contact with Amrah longer than her father or Maria, while Michael marveled at the obvious link transfiguring his daughter. She smiled, expressing more wonder than any word could.

"Well, my son, your daughter will be easier to train than you. She already masters complex principles."

"Really?" Michael felt a little uncomfortable at the thought of Jennifer being trained by Amrah.

"She has wide open pathways and no mental objection of any kind. She will be very powerful some day." Amrah sounded confident.

"I'm glad to hear that," Michael answered automatically, but inside he was not so sure he liked it. Power usually meant dangers to confront, and he preferred for his daughter the comfortable life he himself never had. To change the subject, Michael announced the purpose of his visit. "How long do we have until Lufriec gets here?"

Upon a subtle sign from Amrah, Maria took Jennifer by the hand. “Come with me for a tour of a real flying saucer," she said to her granddaughter. "These two have business to discuss." As she led Jennifer away, the child looked back to her father for reassurance. When he responded with a smile, Jennifer followed Maria with no more hesitation.

Sitting on the couch, Amrah looked as comfortable in the new earthly arrangement of his quarters as he had always been in his barren alien decor. "In three or four days, we expect them to reach our vicinity." He sounded preoccupied.

"Will you be ready then? How can I help?" Michael shifted position. He thought about the irony of it all. In three days it would be Earth Day.

"We are as ready now as we will ever be, but time does not matter as much as timing. Nevertheless, the Reptilian fleet is several thousand strong, and we have no precise idea of how sophisticated their weapons and defenses are."

"How much do you know about them?"

Amrah shrugged, a strange movement for his slim frame. "We know very little since they evolved along a different path. Long ago, they used magic and rituals. Their strength always lay in numbers. They thrived on adversity and conflict, burning with a passion we could not understand. Blindly they followed their warlord and seemed to enjoy cruelty... A disconcerting trait."

"Sounds familiar. We’ve had a few of those throughout history."

"Unfortunately, as a peaceful people, we have lost the will and, I fear, also the ability to fight. I thought maybe we could use your wild instincts. You could teach us by sharing the passionate side of your personality with us."