Touched by an Alien (14 page)

“No. I know a lot of this sounds like the comics, but reality means we’re stuck with certain things we can’t get around. Or haven’t gotten to yet. Honestly, I think one of the scientific teams
is
working on something similar to a mutant finder like Cerebro, but they’re a long way away from it working, at least as far as any field agents are aware.”

“Okay, so, I still don’t understand why we can’t kill them while they’re in human form.”

“Politically, it’s a bad thing. We’d come off like terrorists murdering an innocent person.”

“But they aren’t people any more.”

“Yes, well, the thing is, if the parasite isn’t active, or, rather, if you can’t see them as a superbeing, then when they die, you still can’t. And,” he added, “the parasite can escape and reestablish itself with someone else. The parasite has to be killed, and it can only be killed while the entity is in superbeing form or if it’s separated from any host.”

I thought about this for a bit. “But you all told me the human forms could be killed only if the parasite allowed it.”

“Yes. But let’s use Yates as an example. He turns back into a human, is totally confused about why he’s standing in the middle of the tarmac. You go to kill him. Maybe the parasite decides it would rather join with you—Yates is old, you seem more compatible, Yates is able to come back to human too well, whatever the reason. So the parasite does let you kill Yates. And then it moves to you.”

“So you’d kill me and the parasite, too.” I didn’t like this plan, but it seemed logical.

“Right. Only, do you really think we could?”

I considered this. I knew he wasn’t asking if I thought they were capable. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t think we could. We
know
you.”

“Well, yes, but I could see someone, say, Christopher, managing to get past that and do me in anyway. And,” I had to admit, “it would be the right thing to do.”

“Maybe. I don’t want to be in the position to have to find out—with you or anyone else we work with. Besides, we need the bodies in their superbeing forms, for study, for proof. If we kill Yates, we’re murdering terrorists. If we kill Mephistopheles, we’re heroes.”

“Fine line. And hard to do if he’s invulnerable no matter what.”

“He’s vulnerable, we just have to figure out where the parasite is inside him. It’s harder than you’d think.”

“Not in the torso or head.”

“Could be, though. You have to hit the spot exactly. It’s why tanks and heavy artillery work well—they have a more likely chance of hitting the area when they’re hitting the entire being.”

“So why didn’t anyone call in the military? I mean, there was a huge monster stomping around JFK. I can’t understand why the entire police force wasn’t called in.”

Reader sighed. “We monitor all of this kind of activity from the Science Center and from our other bases. The moment we can spot the superbeing showing up, we alter all media. No one sees it, so no one reacts to it.”

“How many bases are there?”

“We have them dotted all over the world. The most active one outside of those in the U.S is Euro Base, located in Paris, but there are several on each continent. We have a lot of bases spread over the U.S. Gate technology lets us get around, and, of course, there are gates in every airport the world over, even the tiny, obscure ones.”

“That’s fine, but speaking of that, what about the people there, in the airport? What do they think happened?”

Reader seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Well, that’s complicated.”

Again with the complicated. “Because it’s the mind-control thing Martini mentioned to me, right?”

“Yeah,” Reader sounded relieved. “It’s complicated to explain, though,” he reiterated, in case I’d missed it the first time. I wanted to ask if “complicated” was Reader’s code word for “I’d rather not say,” but I wasn’t sure what I’d do if he replied that the answer to that would again be complicated.

Decided to find out. “James, what’s with all the complicated? It’s like your code word.”

“You’re good.” He sounded impressed. “Complicated means classified. As in, civilians don’t get to know this.”

“So, why are you telling me? Or, conversely, why don’t you want to tell me?”

“I have no problem giving you what I have, girlfriend. I’m just not sure I’m supposed to. Besides, the mind stuff really is complicated as well as classified.”

“So Martini told me, at least the complicated part. Feel free to take a stab at it. Who could I tell that would believe any of this anyway?” Other than Chuckie, though I didn’t say that for a variety of reasons, not wanting them to snatch him and do God knew what to him being one of the stronger ones.

I felt Martini’s arm tighten around me. “I’ll do it,” he said drowsily. “Just cuddle up here.”

“My mother is snoozing right across from us,” I pointed out.

“She seems cool with it,” Reader offered.

“You’re not helping.”

Martini pulled a little harder, and I gave in. Snuggling up against him really wasn’t all that bad. “Okay, I’m cuddled. So talk.”

“Naps are good for you,” Martini said, sounding a bit more awake.

“Information’s better. Spill it.”

He gave a good-natured grumble but opened his eyes a crack. “Oh, okay, fine. The mind-control device is for large crowds, only. It doesn’t work on one person. It’s not even mind control, really. More like creating a group hallucination.”

“How does it work?”

Martini yawned and stretched. He looked like a big cat. Then he settled back and moved me a little closer. “Odorless gas that affects the brain’s receptors. Human brains only, because we don’t need to fool any A-Cs and we don’t care about fooling any of the superbeings.”

“How is this gas dispensed?”

“It’s in the air all the time,” he said, as if this was just a minor thing.

“You have gases in the air that give humans mass hallucinations? All the time?” I was outraged, but kept my voice down. People were sleeping, after all.

“They’re natural to Earth,” Martini said patiently. “We just know how to use them.”

“Just how do you use them?”

He sighed. “We can see the gases, and all agents know how to manipulate them. Basically, we create what we want the human crowd to see and project it. Alien technology, remember? We’ve all got devices implanted into our brains, sort of like radio transmitters, only really tiny and set up to handle these kinds of things.” He yawned again. “That’s why no one was asking what happened with the superbeing you took out. I altered what everyone saw. Christopher’s side of the house handles the media. Normally they can get to the cameras and the like and alter them before any human notices.”

I pondered this for a bit. “I saw the man sprout wings and start killing people.”

“You were intimately involved in the action, so you weren’t affected by the mass hallucination.”

“That seems convenient.”

He groaned. “Nothing’s easy with you, is it? It’s not convenient, it’s adrenaline and the fight-or-flight syndrome all humans have. When the adrenaline starts pumping, it either helps or hinders the hallucination. If a person’s reaction to danger is flight, then they see the hallucination. If it’s fight, then they see reality. And, before you can ask, in the case of law enforcement or military personnel, all those trained to fight no matter what, and all those who are fighters by nature, if they aren’t intimately involved in the action, they’re affected by the hallucination.”

“The guys who were driving the baggage carts didn’t think they saw a monster,” Reader added. “They saw whatever Christopher wanted them to see. Your mother, on the other hand, was intimately involved and saw what the rest of us saw.”

“You and I weren’t intimately involved when it started.” Reader and Martini both were quiet. I looked up at Martini. “What does that mean? I assume I won’t like it.” I didn’t expect an answer from Reader—besides, I had a feeling his reply would be that this was complicated.

Martini looked uncomfortable, but I stared him down. “It means I gave you a shot when you passed out the first time. It protects you against the hallucinations. You can’t see what we project any more.”

I considered this. “You made it so you can’t fool me like the general populace?” He nodded. “How long will this last?”

“I gave you enough for a week. If you end up becoming an official agent, you’ll get regular injections monthly.”

“They don’t hurt,” Reader threw out. “They use some special alien shot-giver thing, much nicer than a hypodermic.”

“I’m thrilled.” I wasn’t that upset. They’d made me less susceptible to them, not more. If I could believe them. Then again, fast or not, Martini hadn’t been there when the man had sprouted his killer wings. If he’d wanted me to see something else, it hadn’t worked. And if I believed he wanted me to at least go to bed with him, he certainly wasn’t doing himself any favors by making me less adaptable to his will. I decided to let this one slide.

He picked it up and looked relieved. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I’d really rather not have a fight with you right now.”

We were still sitting in traffic—I was fairly sure we’d gone about a whopping ten miles in forty-five minutes—and I got sleepy all of a sudden. “You making me tired?”

“Nope,” Martini said with a chuckle. “It’s just been a big day.”

“O-kay,” I said through a yawn. His chest was right there and rather inviting. I leaned my head against it, and I didn’t have to be an empath to determine he liked it. He pulled me closer, and I was so tired that I decided to ask about the double heartbeat I was hearing when I woke up.

I AWOKE WITH A START
. “It’s in his throat!”

“What? Kitty, are you all right?” My mother put her hand to my forehead. “You might be a little feverish.”

“I’m not feverish. Where are we?” I looked around. Still in the limo, but it looked like we were at the airport. “Where’s Martini or Gower?”

“They all went inside to make sure we’ll be safe in there.”

“So they left us alone in the car? Like this is some sort of shield?”

Mom coughed. “They explained that it is. Their cars are, um, special.”

It figured. “Okay, so we’re all safe and sound in the vehicle?”

“Supposedly. What were you screaming about when you woke up?”

It was fuzzy, but I could still see it. “When Mephistopheles had me up to his face, when it looked like he was going to bite my head,” I said slowly. “Remember?”

“Vividly. I’m glad your father won’t have the memory.”

“Well, didn’t it strike you as odd, that he was going to eat me, versus stomp or crush me?”

“Kitten, I was watching some monster try to eat my baby. I wasn’t giving the oddity of the situation a lot of thought.”

“Me either. I was focused on his bad breath and getting my hairspray out.” I could just see it, in the back of his throat. “Martini said it would move to me. Oh, I am so grossed and freaked out. Where the hell is he, anyway?” It was a shock to realize I wanted Martini next to me, right now, more than anything in the world. Because I was finally really and truly terrified.

“He’s inside the terminal. Kitty, what are you trying to tell me?”

I was about to answer when the car door was flung open and Martini’s head appeared. I managed not to shriek. “What’s wrong?” he asked, clearly frightened.

I was about to ask
him
what was wrong and why he’d tried to give me a heart attack when my brain kicked in. Empath, remember? Empath who liked me. Duh. It was nice to know that if I was scared, he’d be right there. “I’m sorry, we’re okay,” I said as reassuringly as I could. “I just realized something.”

“To the point where your entire being was terrified and screaming for me?” he asked. He looked shaken.

I pulled him into the car and kept hold of his hand. “I’m sorry. It’s okay. I was, well, am, scared, but the threat isn’t immediate.” I hoped.

He didn’t look convinced, but he did settle down in the seat. “What
is
the threat?”

“The parasite is in Mephistopheles’ throat, hanging back there like a third tonsil. He was trying to eat me, not to kill me, but so the parasite could move to me. The hairspray must have hit the parasite and just made it go haywire for whatever reason. It
was
extra hold.”

Martini went back to looking concerned. “Dammit, I knew you were too tempting.”

“As flattering as that could be but probably isn’t, why so?”

He heaved a sigh. “Anyone capable of being a human agent is also very tempting to the parasites. For all we know, the parasite you killed was actually heading for you when the man near you got enraged and it shifted its focus to him.”

This was not comforting news. I was homicidal-maniac-parasite bait. Not exactly what I’d always hoped to attract.

Gower, Reader, and Christopher showed up now, all looking worried. Apparently Martini had run to me at hyperspeed without telling them where he was going or why. I was rather touched even while I reminded myself this was a power to be used wisely.