Authors: Greg Curtis
Tags: #agents, #space opera, #aliens, #visitors, #visitation, #alien arrival
The UN was
likely to endorse his actions too, even as they publicly condemned
the US for carrying out such monstrous research. But half the
Security Council members had already known and tried to deal with
Dimock even as they had tried to steal the technology in him, and
they were desperately trying to keep that secret. The other half
were simply glad to be alive, and even happier to have something to
blast the US with. David’s evidence was their weapon, and they
wanted him free to testify. Besides, as his self-appointed lawyers
pointed out, he couldn’t have killed anyone, since Dimock had
already been executed. Three times.
As it was, the
press back on Earth was still having a field day with Dimock as
they kept tallying up his crimes. Thus far the body count was put
at something over seventy thousand, nearly all of whom they laid
the blame for at the CIA and DOD’s feet. Already heads were rolling
at the highest levels and at least a dozen had now been fired or
sent out to early retirement. More were likely to follow, while the
endless succession of doctors who had experimented on Dimock, at
least those that still lived, were being sent for trial. Faced with
a prosecution fuelled by the righteous anger of hundreds of
thousands of victims' relatives and the outrage of billions, they
weren’t likely to ever leave jail, though most still had no
understanding that they’d done anything wrong.
David, having
been granted a presidential pardon and immunity for the shooting,
was likely to be the prosecution’s chief witness in the trials. One
of the few still living. Several of the Leinian doctors who had
removed Dimock’s implants, had also been asked if they could give
evidence and had kindly agreed. For them it was both their civic
duty and a chance to spell out exactly why such experimentation had
been outlawed among the stars and they were looking forward to
it.
In time David
knew that if the calls from the Leinians to try him grew loud
enough, his righteous status would be rescinded and he would be
sacrificed. It was simply politics in their brave new universe. Yet
the Leinians weren’t so much clamouring for his arrest as they were
worried both about and for him. A strange people, they didn’t
consider him so much a murderer as they did a victim. A victim of
both his training and the events that had shaped his world.
They had a
point, and though David wouldn’t have wanted to admit it publicly,
since killing Dimock he’d suffered an endless series of nightmares
as his subconscious tried to make sense of the fact that the
monster was truly dead. He had lived in fear and shame for so long
it was difficult coming to grips with the fact that he was finally
free of his demon. It was difficult to let go. Thus far though,
only Cyrea knew the full extent of them, and he hoped she would
keep it that way, though she repeatedly suggested his seeing a
therapist and in a world with no true privacy, some of her concerns
had become known more widely.
The Leinians
wanted to help him. In fact it had gotten to the point where they
now actually had shows on the box where learned professionals
discussed his condition and treatment. How quickly they forgot the
walking obscenity that had called himself Dimock.
In any case,
since he had decided to become a Leinian officially, their justice
was something he would have to face sooner or later. It didn’t
scare him though. If he’d truly done wrong he would accept his
punishment as a man. Besides, he suspected it would likely be some
form of therapy knowing them. They considered him not so much a
criminal in this matter, as mentally ill. Hopefully only
temporarily, and only so far as Dimock had been concerned. Maybe
they had a point too. He could accept that now that he knew Dimock
was dead.
“Actually. I
don’t think that’ll be such an issue.” They both jumped as Lar’s
voice came from somewhere out of thin air in front of them. He
himself was nowhere to be seen. That was one thing David thought he
might never get used to; the complete lack of privacy. No doubt Lar
had been monitoring them for some time, letting the computers
analyse the conversation until they heard what he wanted to hear,
and then getting them to notify him so he could speak his piece. He
didn’t waste any time.
“David, you
know our mission, and you know your people. I don’t think you
actually have any objection to helping keep our people safe while
they deal with yours. Not anymore. Especially when you and I and
all the rest of us now know that we are all the same people. It’s
not an us against them situation. And in any case David even if it
was, you are both us and them.” Which was true, David realized.
Sometime in the last few months his outlook on things had
changed.
“True.” He
nodded his agreement to the thin air where the voice seemed to come
from.
“So as you
humans, or rather as you Earth born Leinians say, let’s make a
deal. You help us to help your people safely, and we’ll train you
to become a member of our security community.” While it was odd to
hear the phrase, it was actually correct, though David figured he
could make an equally strong case that Leinians were humans born
here. Then of course there were possibly more races still waiting
to be found once the Mentans dug up all their ancient records. It
didn’t help that the one member of their race who knew where they
were buried, and who was locked up for his own crimes committed as
he tried to hide them, still wasn’t talking.
“It’s a good
deal for both of us. You get to learn how to become a police
officer with us, while we get the benefit of your knowledge of your
own agencies, and how they might act towards us. Meanwhile Cyrea
can stay with you either on Earth or here, while still remaining in
the force, and she can help you learn our ways. It’s the best deal,
for all of us.” Which it was. But there were still some
problems.
“There are
–.”
“Yes, I know.
There are things you can’t tell us. Like the highly secret nuclear
defence projects you’ve been a part of. And your work recovering
weapons of mass destruction in the Middle East and so forth. We
already know about many of them, without your help. In time we’ll
know the rest, still without your help. We don’t want or need you
as an informer. We want you as an officer, someone who can protect
our people while they try to negotiate your people’s arrival among
us. Someone who can show us the risks we face and help us avoid
them. It’s an important job and one which no-one else can help us
with as well as you can. And if you’re honest, you know we won’t
betray either your people or you.”
David was
somewhat taken aback by the way Lar casually dropped his level of
knowledge about national secrets on the table. But he also knew he
shouldn’t be. The Leinians had been digging ever more deeply over
the previous months, ever since Dimock had appeared on the scene.
And they did have some advanced technology at their disposal. Then
too they had seen Dimock. They had literally disassembled him.
David knew he should have felt threatened by it, but somehow he
just wasn’t. If anything he felt somewhat easier, as if a load had
been lifted from him. The more they knew the less he had to hide.
Besides, he'd already told them of every single human experiment
he'd been involved with. Given them every name he could remember.
Under no circumstances was he ever going to allow another Dimock to
be made, secrecy be damned.
And then he
felt something new. Shame. Guilt. Not for what he had done, though
that would always be with him. For what he was still doing.
“Lar, I have a
lock up. A garage in Helena where I've kept records of every
classified secret project I've ever been involved with. Their
yours. And they should be made public. And I will testify as
necessary.” Cyrea stared at him, shocked, and he could imagine that
Lar wherever he was, was probably doing much the same. The only one
who wasn't shocked as he gave them the details was him. He felt
only relief. And Hope of course who had no idea what was
happening.
There was
silence after that, but he liked to think it was a happy silence.
At least he was happy. He wondered only why it had taken so long.
And it wasn't until Lar broke it that he cared.
“My offer still
stands.”
“And I would be
honoured to accept it. More than honoured. Happy. So I’d be an
agent again?” Which was something that didn’t really appeal any
longer, even when he supported their cause.
“No, of course
not.” There was a slightly exasperated tone in Lar's voice, which
David knew was probably his fault. He’d said something stupid
again. “We don’t have agents. We don’t even have secrets, in case
you’d missed that. You’d be what you once called Cyrea, a police
officer. Except our goal is to stop crime before it happens.”
“So I’d be an
Ayn?”
“In time. But I
think you’d have to begin as a Re Ayn. For the first few years at
least.” Cyrea suddenly snorted beside him, and he knew she was just
trying to suppress a fit of the giggles. And it was funny – for
her. There would be years as a trainee officer, a cadet, when she’d
technically hold rank over him. He’d never hear the end of it and
yet all of them knew it wasn’t a choice. He had to do something, he
had to start somewhere.
“Bugger!” Cyrea
finally gave in to her laughter and fell about in hysterics beside
him, while Hope looked on uncertainly. He grinned and bore it
stoically.
“It is an
honourable profession.” Cyrea smiled merrily, as she repeated back
to him what he’d told her so long before. And she was right to do
so. Though he had been deprecating of the role at the time,
policing was something he could feel good about. It was also
something he could do, and in time, do well. He kissed her hand in
apology and agreement.
“True. And one
I would be pleased to begin. Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.
Today my wife and daughter need my complete attention. We’re going
to play in the park or so I’ve been told. There are all sorts of
dangers in parks, strange people, stranger animals and perilous
playthings. I feel I need to be there just in case.”
Then too there
was the Leinian version of ice-cream, which surely had to be one of
the universe’s delicacies.
Ice-cream in
the park. Now that was a plan for a sunny day.