Æthereal (Æthereal Series, Book 1)

AETHEREAL by

Christopher W. Wilcox, Sr.

Whiskey Creek Press www.whiskeycreekpress.com Copyright ©2006 by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment. Published by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS Whiskey Creek Press PO Box 51052 Casper, WY 82605-1052 www.whiskeycreekpress.com Copyright © 2006 by Christopher W. Wilcox, Sr. Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. ISBN 1-59374-434-X Credits Cover Artist: Jinger Heaston Editor: Chere Gruver Printed in the United States of America

WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT AETHEREAL "...The past, present and future come together in one outstanding story in Christopher W. Wilcox, Sr.'s AEthereal.... weaves a wonderful story combining a bit of the X-Files, a smidge of Jurassic Park, a sprinkle of romance and a highly suspenseful story. The writing is clear, well detailed and documented and offers the reader an action-packed story that is a do not miss." ~~Reviewed by Gina for Love Romances

Dedication

To Bob Fisher, for making me write this. To Laura Barnette, for all your editing assistance. To my children, Heather, Chris, and Amber, for reading all the different versions and helping me make it better, and my wife, Patti, for believing in me for all these years. And finally, to my new family at WCP: the other authors who share so much of themselves and their talents, my phenomenal cover artist Jinger, and my editor and friend, Chere. Thank you for all your encouragement and support.

Chapter 1 Judy Deavers was still silently swearing as she parked her assigned Bureau car in her reserved slot in the parking garage at the Federal Building in Spokane. The pre-Memorial Day weekend traffic had been terrible! The drivers in this town must ingest large amounts of controlled substances for breakfast. It was the best explanation for the erratic manner in which they drove. As she processed through building security, she glanced at her watch and realized she was now ten minutes late. Fine example to be setting for the staff, she railed silently as she waited for the elevator. Pressed toward the back by the throng of people boarding the elevator, she tapped her foot in irritation as it stopped at every single floor before finally reaching the fifth. As the doors opened, the passengers could see the large shield on the wall surrounded by the words that still thrilled her even today: Federal Bureau of Investigation. She pushed her way through the people to exit the elevator before the doors could close. She walked down the hallway toward her office. Even in sensible flat shoes on linoleum tile, her steps were nearly silent. The others always said she moved like a cat, and she was aware they thought she did it to sneak up on them. That thought always made her smile since she would never have to stoop that low. She had an unerring sense when someone was just marking time or going through the motions, and those slackers usually exposed themselves quickly. Having a woman as Special Agent in Charge had been unsettling to many of them. Entering her office, she had no sooner sat down than the intercom buzzed. Her assistant's voice was far too chipper for this time of morning, to her way of thinking anyway. “What do you need, Mike?” she asked. "You have a call on line two; none other than the Commandant of the Washington State Police himself. He's very adamant about speaking with you personally." "I wonder what he wants. Thanks, Mike.” Pushing the blinking button on her telephone, she said, “This is Special Agent Judy Deavers. What can we do for the State Police so early in the morning, Commandant?" "I think we've got a case that needs your involvement, Agent Deavers.” These were words Judy Deavers knew cost the Commandant dearly to utter. The State Police tried to avoid federal involvement in their investigations whenever possible. For him to be calling this early in the morning with a request for FBI support could not be good. The Commandant's normally affable personality was subdued as he said, “At approximately midnight last night, an isolated private dwelling up in Tumwater Canyon was destroyed by explosion and fire. When our crime scene investigation unit examined the site, they found residue of Semtex. They also found some kind of calling card at the scene.” He paused. “It looks like we may have some kind of radical group." Judy sat back in her chair. “Well, that's a hell of a way to start the day, Commandant. You got a contact number for me to liaise with the local authorities?" "The crime scene is presently under the control of Captain Mike Holgrin, the area supervisor for the State Police.” The Commandant gave her the captain's cellular telephone number. “Our CSI unit is still on scene and will remain there until your people arrive and take over." "Thanks. Let me make sure I have this straight. A single-family dwelling located in Tumwater Canyon was destroyed by explosion, presently identified as being caused by Semtex. Whoever did it may have left a calling card, which is now being held as evidence by the State Police. Scene is under the supervision of Captain Mike Holgrin, who is reachable via cell phone at the number you provided.” Her flat recitation of the facts masked the fact her mind was racing over what needed to be done next.

Thanking the Commandant for his courtesy, she hung up the receiver and pressed her intercom button. “Mike, scramble the troops. I need everyone in the conference room in five minutes." As she reached for the door handle, she caught sight of herself in the mirror mounted behind the door. Her slightly-less-than-shoulder length auburn hair would need a trim soon. It was starting to get a shade longer than she preferred and was taking too much time to style in the mornings. Her crisp white shirt gleamed beneath the stylish business suit she wore. No jewelry adorned her throat or fingers, since that might afford a suspect something to grab hold of during a struggle. Her slim build made her seem even taller than her five foot nine inches. At least she didn't wear high heels while working; no use being even taller! Cutting her reverie short, she opened the door and went to the conference room. Most of her staff was already seated in the room when she strode to the front. By the time she had reached the head of the table, the rest had found a seat. “We've just received a support request from the State Police. There was a bombing of a private dwelling in Tumwater Canyon. The State CSI found traces of Semtex. They also found a calling card, possibly from the group responsible. I want our lab boys there as quick as they can deploy a portable lab, along with some agents to sift through the ashes. Best be prepared to stay on site for however long this takes. I'll take the Bureau helicopter out there as soon as I get in touch with the on-scene State Police Captain at the site. Once I have an assessment from the ground, I'll call back here if we need anything else. Questions?” When none appeared, she dispersed the group to get started on their assigned tasks. Assistant Special Agent in Charge Delroy Robinson followed her back to her office. “You are going out there personally?" "Yes, Delroy, and that means you'll be in charge here during my absence.” Watching the barely concealed eagerness on his face, she added, “If this pans out the way I think it might, you may be holding down the fort here for a while. Do a good job and it could be your ticket to your own office.” She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Believe me, if I didn't think you could handle it, I wouldn't be going. Now do me a favor, call the jet park and have them prep the helicopter for immediate departure. I'll be taking Mike with me.” She walked back to her desk and found the scrap of paper with the phone number for Captain Holgrin. "Holgrin,” said the voice that answered the call. "Captain Holgrin, this is Special Agent Judy Deavers of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I understand you have something you'd like our help with.” It was a Bureau policy to use words like ‘help’ when in reality, FBI involvement usually meant total control of the case from the moment they set foot on the crime scene. "Yes, ma'am. Do you know where we're at?" Looking at an aeronautical map of the region, she quickly spotted the location of Tumwater Canyon. “Are you at the north end, or the south end of the canyon?" "Any further north, we'd be up the mountain,” came his reply. Shaking her head at the reply, she asked, “Is there any place near the scene suitable for landing a helicopter? We'd like to get on scene as soon as possible and it will take a couple hours to get the rest of the team there on the ground." "Sure, there's a wide access road leading up past the lake in front of the lodge. It's clear of obstructions. There's almost no wind down here in the canyon today, so that should be fine." "Great. We'll see you soon, Captain.” Once she disconnected from the call, she called out, “Let's go, Mike!” and hurried for the elevator.

Fortunately, traffic cooperated on the way to the jet park allowing Mike to drive faster than the other cars. He knew no local police officer would pull over a Bureau vehicle traveling within ten miles per hour of the posted limit. His boss never commented on it and he knew her mind was already planning her next steps. When they reached the jet park, he almost had to run to keep up with her as she trotted out to the Bell Ranger, prominently emblazoned with the FBI shield on its doors and the letters ‘FBI’ on the tail boom. After running a quick check of the aircraft's systems, she started the engines. Once departure clearance was arranged, she quickly lifted the helicopter and, riding the ground effect, headed for the designated departure spot. **** Twenty minutes later, they were flying up the canyon, a forested region of pines. She banked the helicopter above the fire watchtower and soon saw the smoldering ruin of the mountain retreat. She skimmed over the small lake in front of the site and set down in the small field adjacent to the access road. Quickly completing the post-flight checklist, she turned off the engines and opened the door. As she and her assistant walked around the front of the helicopter, the State Police Captain was approaching them. She spoke first. “Captain Holgrin, I'm Judy Deavers, Special Agent in Charge from the Spokane office. This is Special Agent Michael Masters." "Mike Holgrin,” he said as he shook their hands. “Let me fill you in on what we know so far. About midnight last night, a ranger in the Forest Service watchtower spotted the explosion and subsequent fire and called it in. One of my troopers accompanied the fire department to the scene. The building was fully involved by that point. The trooper spotted two anomalies. First, he found a business card stuck in the mailbox. Since yesterday was Sunday, there would have been no mail delivery. It doesn't make much sense to stick a card in a box out here in the middle of nowhere.” He handed her a small evidence bag containing a single standard-sized business card. On it was Leonardo Da Vinci's Vitruvian drawing and the words ‘Humanity First’ in bold print. “The second anomaly is really odd. The fire department pumped several thousand gallons of water on the fire but there hasn't been any runoff from the site, nor is the basement big enough to hold it all. Kind of makes me wonder where it all went. Anyway, the lab boys found traces of Semtex, so we called you.” As he finished his briefing, they had reached the edge of the foundation. While Agent Masters was wandering around the site taking photographs with a digital camera, Captain Holgrin and Agent Deavers moved over to the flagstone stoop and peered down into the soggy ashfilled basement. “You're right, Captain. There should be a lot of water in here and there's barely any. Obviously, there has to be some sort of exit for all that water. We won't find that until we really start to clean this place out." She stepped away from the State Police Captain, flipped open her cell phone, and speed dialed a number. “Hi, Ted. This is Judy Deavers. Listen, I'm going to need some help excavating a site up in Tumwater Canyon. I think we'll need some rollaways, a backhoe or small crane, and some grunts.” She laughed, “Hey, Ted, when have we ever not paid you? These are your tax dollars at work. How soon can you get here? Not before then, huh? Okay, see you tomorrow then." "Captain, it's going to take us some time to go through this site. I don't suppose there's a hotel anywhere near here." "Closest one is about twenty-five miles or so. And it's not the greatest." She groaned. “Sometimes, I hate this job.” She opened her phone again, dialed yet another number. “Delroy, this is Deavers. We're going to need a full field setup here, tents, cots, sleeping bags, the works. Figure enough for our lab folks, four agents and a work crew of about six. Check with that

National Guard Captain you've been seeing and see if she can scrounge us up some support and maybe a helo lift to get it here. Call me back." **** Two hours later, a small convoy of Ford Taurus sedans and a large panel van made its way along the access road. Judy Deavers directed Agent Masters to start controlling the area. He directed the sedans to park down by the helicopter and allowed the van to drive up next to the state CSI vehicle. Knowing the CSI guys would brief their FBI counterparts on what they'd found and turn over any and all evidence they'd collected, Special Agent Deavers met with her assembled team. Before they could get much further than the basic orientation to the site, the peaceful afternoon was disturbed by the sound of a large helicopter. Captain Holgrin glanced back over the lake and was surprised to see an old Sikorsky sky crane with a large pallet slung below it. He watched as the sky crane delivered the pallet onto the access road, released the lifting cables and then flew away. He really had to stop himself from smiling as he watched the federal agents in their business suits scrambling over the pallet, unpacking the tents and other necessities for a base camp. He walked back over to his departmental car. "Dispatch, Night-one." "Go ahead, Night-one,” the dispatcher's voice replied. "When Charlie Fredericks gets in this afternoon, tell him that I need him to bring his report, that park ranger, and five twenty piece KFC meals out to the site." "Copy that. Report, ranger and five twenty piece KFC meals. Regular or extra crispy?" He could hear laughing in the background. “Three extra crispy, two regular. And if you think that's funny, you should see all these Feds in their suits trying to set up tents. Night-one, clear." "Dispatch, clear.” There was no mistaking the chuckle in the voice now. The tent city took shape quite quickly. For all his disdain over the “suits” and the reputed attitude ascribed to the FBI, he was impressed by their immediate response to the arrival of the equipment. By the time Trooper Fredericks arrived on scene with the food and the park ranger, the campsite was well established. Captain Holgrin brought the report (a certified copy he noted, rather than the original) over to where Special Agent Deavers was standing. “As promised, here's the report. Trooper Fredericks and the park ranger are standing by in case you have any questions." Holgrin, Fredericks and the park ranger joined Deavers at a small camp table and they all ate as she skimmed through the reports. “Fine work, Trooper. Ever thought about a career with the FBI?" "And give up all this?” Fredericks responded, waving at the scenic wonderland surrounding them. “No, ma'am, I'm happy right where I am." Turning to the park ranger, she said, “I'm Special Agent Deavers with the FBI." The ranger nervously wiped his hand on his pants before shaking her extended hand. “Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm Chad Thorton. I was on duty last night and called in the initial report.” He handed her a typed report. “I thought it would save time if I wrote this up. I did it last night right after I placed the call, so the events and my observations would still be fresh." "Thank you. Before I read this, why don't you just tell me about it?” Judy asked. "Well, it was just after midnight. It was a bright, clear night and I was watching an owl ghosting along above the river when there was a bright flash followed by a tremendous boom. I swung my binoculars

over and saw the lodge on fire. I contacted dispatch and reported the fire and explosion. About forty minutes later, a State Police car and a fire engine reached the scene." She read over the statement as the rest ate in silence. “According to this statement, you saw a dark colored SUV traveling down the road from the lodge about an hour before the explosion. Had you ever seen the vehicle before?" "Well, that's hard to say, ma'am. I mean, all those big SUVs look alike to me. All I can say for sure was that it was dark colored. It could have been black, dark blue, or even dark green. It was clean, though. The moonlight reflected off the paint clearly, so it was relatively new and had been waxed. It wasn't speeding or anything out of the ordinary. I only noticed it because there's so little traffic out here and that road only goes to that lodge." "Know anything about the owners of the lodge? It doesn't appear anyone was home,” she probed. "Nothing. I don't think I ever have seen anyone there. Oh, sometimes there would be smoke from one of the chimneys in the winter, but I never have met any of the owners.” Chad responded, his tone slightly defensive. He blurted, “Did you know this isn't the first lodge on this site? The original lodge was built back in the early twenties. That one was torn down and this one was built back in the late fifties or early sixties. Real showpiece with a great living room, vaulted ceilings, big deck out front, couple loft bedrooms, fancy kitchen. There was a piece on it in Architectural Digest a few years back.” Handing over a magazine, he added, “I brought a copy with me.” Judy Deavers quickly flipped through the glossy pages showing an exquisitely appointed mountain retreat that would have been equally suited for the slopes of Aspen. "Agent Deavers, will you need either of us anymore tonight?” Captain Holgrin asked. “The trooper here needs to get on patrol and, frankly, I need to get some sleep. I've been on duty for the past thirtytwo hours." "I thought you were looking a little worn around the edges. No, I think we've got this in hand. I'll be heading back to Spokane in a bit to get some clothes and will be back here tomorrow to oversee the excavation." As he stood up to leave, Captain Holgrin asked, “Mind if I stop by? I'm still curious about where all the water went. Plus, I feel like I owe it to Charlie Fredericks to answer that question since he was the first to wonder about it." "No problem.” Then she added with a smile, “Always glad to work with anyone who can provide this much chicken at short notice." **** Captain Holgrin drove out to the canyon just after noon the next day. What a difference a day had made. In addition to the tent city, there was now a large motor home with a diesel generator. Large banks of lights were rigged around the rubble. A backhoe was being used to remove debris from the basement, and a group of agents was combing through the debris looking for anything unusual. The sorted debris went into three piles. The first pile, thrown into a large rollaway construction dumpster, was plain debris. Charred wood beams, bed rails, scraps of wood planking. The second pile, much smaller, was comprised of the personal property of the occupants. This pile consisted of the least burned items that might be salvageable or of some value. The final section, with everything tagged and photographed, was for things of an evidentiary nature. A bit of wire, a piece of a beam with blast marks.

Overseeing all this was Special Agent Deavers. A different look today as she was now clad in jeans, hiking boots, a flannel shirt and an FBI windbreaker with an official FBI baseball cap atop her head. She waved as Captain Holgrin got out of his car. He walked over to where she was standing. "We solved your mystery, Captain. As we started to remove the debris, we found a trap door in the basement. Don't know where it leads yet, but that's where the water went." Captain Holgrin looked around at the surrounding territory and said, “The only logical place it can lead is back inside the mountain behind the house. You know, since this place was rebuilt in the late fifties or early sixties, it wouldn't surprise me to find some kind of bomb shelter down there, kind of a souvenir from the Cold War. What about the card?" "A group called ‘Humanity First’ doesn't appear in any database we've queried. There was a partial print on the card. There weren't enough points to make a positive legal identification, but there was a seventy-eight percent match to a man named Marvin Ledbetter. Ledbetter is a Gulf War veteran who became disenchanted with the American dream and the government. He hooked up with some of the homegrown ultra right-wing nationalist groups for a while. He was never really an active player before. We have some agents looking for him now at all his usual haunts.” She shook her head. “I can't help but wonder what the target was here. From what my lab boys are saying, this explosion used a lot of shaped charges to focus the blast toward the center of the structure. Somebody went to a great deal of trouble to totally destroy this place. What I want to know is who and why." **** As the sun started to sink behind the mountains, Judy Deavers went into the combined laboratory and communications facility. She sat down at one of the secure terminals and loaded all the pertinent details into the case file and added a special flag to all Bureau offices to forward to her attention any crimes with a similar modus operandi or reference to ‘Humanity First'. She intended to hang onto this case since she was the principle investigator in what appeared to be the seminal occurrence. **** First thing in the morning, her assistant came into the mess tent looking for her. “Agent Deavers, they're ready to open that trapdoor in the basement. They were wondering whether you wanted to be present." Judy Deavers jumped to her feet and strode over to the edge of the foundation where a ladder descended into the basement. She climbed down the ladder and walked over to the group of agents and excavation personnel standing near the trapdoor. Once she was there, the foreman said, “Let's open her up,” and his work crew used pry bars to lever the warped and swollen wooden door open. Cement steps descended into a dark, concrete tunnel. Grabbing a high-intensity flashlight from her assistant, Judy was the first person down the steps. The foreman shouted after her that he could not guarantee her safety, but she paid him no attention. After studying the photographs of the lodge in the Architectural Digest magazine provided by the ranger, she was very curious about what could be down this tunnel. The floor was slippery with ash and residual water and the tunnel walls were marked by the passage of the filthy liquid. After traveling a distance of about fifty feet, the distance equal to the space between the edge of the foundation and the start of the mountainside behind the house, the passageway changed from concrete to shaped stone. Not blocks, but solid stone worked into a square tunnel about eight or nine feet square. It stretched out in front of her for an incredible distance. Just as she was beginning to think about turning around, it ended. It opened into a huge cavern. All the water from the tunnel had drained off to the left into a large underground river, now muddied by the mixture of ash and dirt. The splash of a fish from the river told

her it was a living body of water. The beam of her flashlight barely illuminated the vast expanse of the cavern. Unlike her previous experience with Carlsbad Caverns, this one did not have any stalactites or stalagmites. How strange. I was under the impression all caves had those. There was a large shelf of soft sand leading down to the underground river. You know, add some direct sunlight and this would make a great picnic spot. The air in the cavern was fresh, indicating there must be some other opening. She slowly walked across the cavern and found a huge depression in the sand, about half the size of a football field in length. The wall next to the depression had been worn smooth to a height of almost fifty feet. She wondered what geologic action could have done that while not affecting the other walls. Looking around and seeing no obvious sign of human usage, she also wondered what the secret of this cavern was. While the occupants of the lodge might have come down here to fish, somehow, she doubted it was that simple. Once back on the surface, she added the details of the cavern's discovery to the case file. She then accessed the U.S. Geologic Survey records for this portion of the Cascades and found absolutely no mention of this cavern. How could any cavern that immense be unknown in today's world of ground penetrating radar and other marvels of exploration? The answer, she found, was simple. That type of exploration was only done in places where there was a reasonable expectation of a find, whether oil, valuable minerals, or fossils. She opened her cell phone and called the contact number for the U.S. Geologic Survey. After explaining who she was, she was finally put in contact with the field supervisor for the Cascades region, Dr. Jennifer Sanders. "Doctor Sanders, my name is Judy Deavers, supervisory Special Agent in Charge of the Spokane office for the Federal Bureau of Investigation.” Her voice was cool and professional. "My goodness, what does the Bureau want with me?” The alto voice was clearly curious rather than fearful of the purpose of the call. "I understand you're somewhat of an expert regarding the geology of the Cascade region. How familiar are you with the Tumwater Canyon area?” Take it slow. "Actually, quite familiar with it. I've spent the last thirty years poking around those mountains. That whole region was very popular during the gold exploration days of the Wild West. I could tell you stories about lost mines, Indian raids and massacres, and hidden treasures.” The woman's confident tone also conveyed her eagerness as she warmed to her topic. "Are you aware of any caverns in the region not displayed on the USGS maps or website?” This was the key question she needed answered. "Only by legend. That's what I've been looking for all these years, actually. I have been trying to establish a historical reference for all the legends about a cavern in that area, but I've never had any luck. What makes you ask?” Now her tone was avidly curious, excited. "What would you say if I told you I just left a vast cavern with an underground river flowing through it?” She silently started counting the seconds. She had barely reached two before the reply came. “I would say, who do I have to kill to see it? Seriously, can I come out there now and do a survey of the cavern?" "Dr. Sanders, I am formally requesting your assistance in documenting this cavern as part of the FBI investigation. How soon can you be here?" "My team can be there in about an hour, and you better start calling me Jenna, because you are now my new best friend!” After a short exchange of pleasantries, they ended the call.

True to her word, Dr. Sanders and her three member team showed up in two USGS four-wheel drive vehicles. The energetic geologist practically bounded over to Judy. The woman's face was remarkably unlined due to her extensive work underground. She only stood five foot three and her shape bordered on stocky. Her lack of vanity was evident in the cropped steel gray hair and work shorts, steel-toed hiking boots and a T-shirt that said ‘Have a gneiss day” on the front and “Schist happens” on the back.. Sticking out a firm, calloused hand, she said, “Jenna Sanders. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate this call. Where did you find the entrance? Is it far from here?" Shaking the woman's hand and wincing from the too-firm grip, Judy said, “Actually, the entrance is down there,” as she pointed into the foundation basement. Peering into the basement at the trapdoor, Jenna Sanders muttered, “No wonder I could never find the damn opening. Somebody built a house on top of it!” Turning her attention back to Judy, she said, “So tell me all about it." Judy explained about the explosion, fire and subsequent discovery. “There's a long man-made tunnel that extends from the basement to the mountain. At that point, the tunnel changes from concrete to solid rock. After another two hundred feet or so, it opens into a huge cavern, probably four hundred fifty to five hundred feet in length and three hundred feet in width. There's an underground river on one side and a shelf of sand extending from the river throughout the rest of the cavern." Jenna's whole being quivered with anticipation. “Enough talk! When can I see it?" "How about right now? I suggest just the two of us at first.” For some reason, Judy was reluctant to just turn the cavern over to them yet. "I was going to suggest exactly that. I want to see it as you saw it. Once I have an idea of what's down there, I can better plan the actual survey. Oh, this is so exciting! You have no idea how rare it is to find a completely new cavern.” Jenna trotted back over to her vehicle, extracted a huge battle-lantern style spotlight and told her crew to ‘Hang tight and get the gear ready'. Judy led the eager geologist down into the tunnel. Surprisingly, Jenna hadn't turned on her lantern, explaining she had meant wanting to experience her first exposure to be the same as Judy's. When they reached the demarcation between the concrete and stone tunnel sections, Jenna stopped and examined the seams. Muttering to herself, she knelt down and looked at the joints with a magnifying glass, then ran her hand all along the seam as high as she could reach. “This is really incredible work. I can't begin to explain how this solid rock tunnel was bored. There are no marks of machining I can detect. What's truly amazing is the fact the concrete tunnel portion was actually poured from this end, moving in the direction of the house. You can spot it from the flow marks in the concrete." "Why would someone dig a tunnel and then finish it from the far end first?” The idea made no sense to Judy's orderly view of the world. "Who said that? What I said was the tunnel was built from the cavern out, not from the house in. That's why it's amazing!” Jenna bounced back to her feet. “Shall we?" Judy handed Jenna the high-intensity flashlight and let Jenna precede her down the stone tunnel. She watched the geologist's face as they reached the cavern. Her jaw dropped as she shone the weak beam of the light around the expanse of dark space. Shaking her head, Jenna warned Judy, “I'm going to turn on the lantern. This thing is almost as powerful as the landing lights on a commercial airliner. Do not look directly into the light, or you won't be able to see for a while, and this is the last place you want to be struck blind.” Judy carefully averted her eyes as Jenna flipped the switch. It was like someone turned on the sun. Jenna moved the light slowly across the cavern and then panned it upward across the vaulted roof. Judy was amazed at the appearance of the ceiling. It was pocked with

countless raised circular projections, all truncated just below the roof. It reminded Judy of one of those acoustical chambers designed to deaden sound. Jenna kept muttering one word over and over, “Amazing." Finally, the geologist turned to Judy. “This cavern is the most unique place I have ever seen." "I thought it was strange when I came in here. I always thought caverns had stalagmites and stalactites, but there aren't any here,” Judy commented. "Oh, this place had them, too. That's why the ceiling looks the way it does. Same with the stalagmites." "So what happened to them?” Judy asked. Pointing out across the cavern, Jenna said, “You're looking at them. That's not sand, Judy. That's powdered rock.” She panned the light around the cavern again, this time, catching the smooth walls near the depression Judy had noticed during her previous visit. Stalking over to the depression, Jenna shined the lantern all across it and the smoothed walls. Shaking her head while she ran her hand over the wall, she said, “I have no explanation for this at all. I can tell you this, Judy. This find is incredibly important. I think this cavern is old, immensely old. Do you have any idea how long it would take to grind all this rock into powder? Millions of years. This may be the oldest cavern ever recorded." As they withdrew from the cavern, Judy asked the older woman how long she thought it would take to do the survey. She stopped dead in her tracks when Jenna answered, “Oh, four, maybe five years." "Jenna, I need something long before then!" "I know, Agent Deavers. I should have a preliminary physical survey done in about three days. Detailed analysis and exploration is what's going to take years.” Jenna looked decidedly happy at the thought. "Jenna, there is one thing you should know. The opening of the tunnel is on privately held lands. It's actually owned by a British company.” Judy wasn't prepared for how quickly the other woman stopped and actually ran into her. "That's a problem. Well, I guess we'll claim eminent domain and let the State Department deal with the fallout.” With those words, Jenna dashed out of the tunnel and up the ladder to get her team started. **** Judy spent the next four days overseeing the FBI teams analyzing the physical evidence from the bombing while watching the excited coming and goings of the USGS personnel. In the evenings, she and Jenna would meet and compare notes. Jenna provided her with a detailed report on the physical aspects of the cavern, as well as digital copies of photographs worthy of National Geographic. Finally, after almost a week on site, she knew they had done all they could do there. She called over the agents still on site and told them the news. First thing in the morning, the team could start packing it all up to head home. **** After making sure Jenna would keep her informed on anything she learned about the cavern, Judy walked back over to the Bureau helicopter. She conducted a thorough preflight inspection, fired up the engines and let them warm up. Keying the radio, she advised the closest FAA radar facility she was preparing to depart from the Tumwater Canyon on a VFR flight plan direct to the Spokane jet park. After receiving her clearance, she lifted off and flew back to Spokane. From the odd looks she received after she parked the Ranger at the jet park, Judy realized her present attire would not suit the Federal Building or the image of the FBI. The jeans weren't all that bad, but the ash and dirt that still covered her from head to foot was a bit over the top. She took the Bureau car back

to her apartment for a quick shower and change of clothes. After fighting rush hour traffic again, she finally reached her office. She spent the rest of the day catching up on events that had occurred in her absence. While Spokane wasn't a very busy office and she'd had the entire field analysis unit out with her, there was always work to be done. The war in Iraq had prompted an increase in military enlistments, which in turn, meant an increase in the security background investigations for the FBI. There were six for her final review before forwarding to the Defense Department. She was reading over the last one when her direct line rang on her desk. “Agent Deavers.” Hope that didn't sound too surly. "Agent Deavers, this is Eric Johansson, Domestic Counterterrorism department at FBI headquarters. I was just reading over your case notes on the Tumwater Canyon bombing.” Just hearing those words made Judy Deavers feel defensive. "Agent Johansson, what can I do for you?” Her tone was cold. "It's okay. I'm not poaching.” His voice sounded warm and friendly. “I just thought you might want to know we had another one last night in Maggie Valley, North Carolina, right on the edge of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Same M.O., same calling card. At the present time, we're linking the two crimes under your investigation. I'm sending you all the details of the second bombing through the secure e-mail system. How soon can you get out there?" "As soon as I can catch a flight.” Glancing at a map, she added, “It would probably be faster to fly in to Knoxville. Can you have someone meet me there, or should I rent a car?" "I'll have someone meet you.” After exchanging some pleasantries and promising to share any further developments, they ended the call. She then accessed the file on the second bombing. A chalet-style log cabin, located on the side of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park, exploded shortly after midnight. Once again, a park ranger spotted the fire. Since the fire was threatening to spill over into the national park, the Park Service fire department responded. Deciding the fire was suspicious since all the debris had fallen inward, the Asheville arson squad came to investigate. When traces of Semtex were found in the residue, they contacted the local office of the FBI. It was one of those agents who found the business card in a mailbox that had been knocked over by one of the fire trucks. She contacted the airlines and booked her flight, then called Delroy in to advise him she was leaving. “All yours again, Delroy. Looks like the bombers have struck again and Washington has left me as lead on the case, so I'm heading for North Carolina. You need me, you know my cell number." **** During a quick stop at her apartment, she threw some clothes into a bag and headed for the airport in a cab. She walked over to the ticket counter and asked to speak to the senior agent for Homeland Security. Judy was directed to a nondescript office door down the main hallway. Once inside, she extended her credentials to the uniformed homeland security agent she found behind the desk. She then explained she was flying from Spokane to Knoxville by way of Denver, and she would need whatever permission forms were presently required for her to carry her sidearm. The homeland officer quickly filled out some forms, taking the information directly from her FBI credentials, then signed them. He then escorted her to her gate, bypassing the security screening by taking a locked access tunnel. “Have a nice flight, Agent Deavers. The cabin crew will know you're armed and will take good care of you from here out." Her flight was uneventful. The flight attendant came over to her just after boarding and asked Judy to accompany her forward. Figuring it was the crew's way of unobtrusively talking to Judy about her

armed status, she was pleasantly surprised to find they wanted her to move into an empty seat in first class. In fact, she had the row to herself. At first, Judy thought it was to limit the potential for another passenger to spot her weapon, but then she realized the truth. In her new seat, she had a clear view of the cockpit door. Should there be any trouble, she had been deftly moved to the ideal place for her to do something about it. Judy fervently hoped nothing would happen since she carried the wrong weapon to deal with aerial hijackers. **** As she retrieved her bag from the carousel in Knoxville, she glanced up to see him come into the terminal. One standard issue federal agent: dark suit, white shirt, subdued tie, black shoes, short hair, physically fit with a trim build, medium height and weight. She just knew he was looking for her. “I'm Special Agent Deavers.” A look of relief washed over his young face and he snatched her suitcase. He led her outside the terminal to the usual Taurus sedan. Does the Bureau lease anything else? she wondered as she sat in the front passenger seat while the young agent placed her bag in the trunk. "Ma'am, would you like to visit the site now, or would you prefer to check into a hotel and go there first thing in the morning?" A quick glance at her watch and the mental conversion to Eastern Standard Time made up her mind. “Hotel now, site in the morning. I've spent the last week living in a tent and I'd like to be fresh when I see the site.” He dropped her off at the Holiday Inn Express, promising to be back at seven thirty in the morning to pick her up. After a quick shower, she fell into bed, asleep before her head hit the pillows. **** They arrived at the site shortly after eight in the morning. After her brief introduction to the senior agent on site, she knew he was just another drone, marking time until reassignment. Excavation was nearing completion. Once again, the debris had all fallen inward, which indicated the use of shaped charges. As she looked around, she spotted a door set into the rear basement wall. “What's behind that door?” At a look of embarrassment on the faces of the younger agents and the indifference in the senior agent's expression, Judy knew no one had even bothered to open it. Shaking her head, she scrambled down into the basement and grabbed the doorknob. Locked. The agent driving for her came by with a crow bar and soon popped the door open. Another tunnel. Judy grabbed a flashlight and entered it. As she somewhat expected, it led to another large cavern whose physical characteristics matched the one in Tumwater Canyon. Once again, the usual stalactites and stalagmites had been worn down to fine sand, forming a nice sandy shelf leading to a swift underground river. She had a hunch this cave would also be unknown to geologists. Returning to the surface, she dialed the number Jenna had given her. "Jenna, this is Judy Deavers." "What's up? I didn't expect you to call so soon. It's going to be weeks before we have anything to publish about what we're finding here.” Judy could hear the quiet satisfaction in her friend's voice. This cavern was going to make Jenna famous. "Jenna, I found another one.” Judy broke the news as easily as she could. "Another what?” Jenna was confused by what Judy had said. "Another big cavern just like the one you're so excited about.” Judy explained to the geologist about the second bombing in Maggie Valley and her exploration of the tunnel behind a previously ignored door in the basement.

"Well, you're going to need USGS support again. I know the guy for the Great Smoky Mountains. I'll give him a call and send him your way.” Judy could tell from Jenna's tone that her new friend really wished she could explore both caverns herself. The wistful acceptance of that impossibility was blended with her eagerness to share the news with her colleague. “He's not that far away, so you can expect him fairly soon.” Judy thanked her again and they both disconnected. Judy then briefed the local agents to expect the arrival of a team from the USGS. Sitting in the Bureau car, she wondered what these two houses had in common besides the previously unknown caverns. She reached into her briefcase, extracted the magazine, and skimmed the article looking for the owner of the lodge. It was owned, at the time of the article, by a British company called AEthereal, Limited. Judy once again flipped open her cell phone, this time, calling her office in Spokane. When Delroy Robinson came on line, she said, “Delroy, I need you to research the current ownership of the Tumwater Canyon bombing site and the ownership of the site of last night's bombing in Maggie Valley, North Carolina. You can get the addresses from the case file.” When he promised to call her with the information as soon as he had it, she ended the call by closing her phone. His call back in forty-five minutes confirmed what she suspected. The same British company owned both locations. What he told her next gave her pause. “I tried to get some information about the company. It's a privately held corporation. They have no corporate website, nor can I discover exactly what they do. What was really interesting was the call I got five minutes ago from the British Embassy demanding to know why I was, and I quote here, ‘prying into the private business of a respected British firm'. When I explained that two buildings owned by the company had been bombed by an apparent serial bomber, the Brit told me it was merely coincidence and nothing more. Then he hung up. Weird enough?” Once again, she thanked Delroy for the information and hung up the phone. Judy was now convinced there was definitely a link between the company and the bombings. She silently wagered that if the bomber struck again, it would be at another building with a mysterious tunnel under a mountain and it would be owned by the same company. As she was reading over the interview of the Park Service ranger who had called in the second bombing, her attention was drawn to the arrival of the USGS team. One of the FBI agents pointed the leader in her direction. Here we go again, she thought, as he approached. Once the USGS team was busy exploring the cavern, Judy knew there was little more to be done on site by the FBI. The evidence had been separated from the debris and was on its way to the main FBI lab in Quantico, Virginia. She contacted the airport and arranged her return flight home. She had three hours to check out of the hotel, clear security, and board the flight. Plenty of time. **** The rest of the week passed quickly for Judy and she had enjoyed her weekend. Even doing almost two weeks worth of laundry hadn't dampened her spirits. She'd gotten caught up on all the Bureau paperwork that had accumulated during her extended absence. The one aspect of being SAC she'd overlooked was the administrative burden that came with the job. There was only so much of it that could be done by either the ASAC or her assistant. The ringing of her phone woke her up. Groggy and mildly disoriented, she answered. “Agent Deavers." "Good morning, Agent Deavers. This is Eric Johansson." Who? Oh, yeah, the Domestic Counterterrorism guy from Washington. Glancing at her watch, she snarled, “You do realize it's only three thirty in the morning in Spokane."

"Sorry about that, but we just had confirmation of a third bombing, this time, outside Colorado Springs. Everything about it matches the other two, including the presence of a large cavern accessed through the basement. This place is also owned by the mysterious British company." "I knew it!” Sleep was forgotten as the adrenaline rushed through her system. "The Director shares your enthusiasm. He wants you in Washington this afternoon, so you'd better get moving. First flight is at six in the morning, your time. Your ticket is at the counter. Plan for a long stay. I'll pick you up at Reagan National Airport."

Chapter 2 Judy Deavers stepped into the terminal at Reagan National Airport. She'd barely made the flight, especially since she had to go through the special security procedures all agents had to follow when traveling armed. She had phoned Delroy from the taxi on the way to the airport, letting him know he was once again minding the store. As she followed the herd toward the baggage claim area, a very tall, very large man in a sharp suit intercepted her. "Agent Deavers?” His voice was that familiar warm baritone from the telephone. “I'm Eric Johansson. As promised, I'm here to pick you up." "It really wasn't necessary. I could have taken a cab.” That was a pro forma objection, if ever she'd uttered one. She automatically sized him up. He was tall, very tall: six foot-three or four, probably. From what she could judge from the cut of his clothes, he was in really good shape; weight probably between two hundred and two hundred ten. Classic Nordic features, complete with close-cropped blond hair and ice blue eyes. The suit was obviously tailored to fit those big shoulders and arms, yet still seem to drape naturally to his slim waist. Hopefully, his ego wouldn't match his looks. It wasn't until they reached the baggage claim area and he effortlessly slung her bag onto his shoulder that she realized just how strong he must be. That bag weighed seventy-five pounds; she'd had to pay extra because of that. She had fought with that blasted bag from her apartment to the cab and finally, to the counter at the airport. "Have you ever met the Director before?” Eric's calm voice snapped her out of her reverie. Walking alongside him, she replied, “Yes, a couple times. The most recent was when I was appointed as SAC in Spokane.” The present Director had kept one of Hoover's traditions alive in that he handpicked every SAC. Of course, Hoover would never have picked a woman and, even if he had, she wouldn't have been as young as Judy Deavers. **** As he drove the Bureau car downtown to the Hoover Building, Eric filled her in on developments that had occurred since she'd taken off from Spokane. “We managed to pull some fingerprints off the cards from bombings two and three, each one a different suspect. Bulletins have gone to all law enforcement agencies to be on the lookout for all three suspects, possibly driving a dark SUV, make and model unknown. The bulletins direct whoever spots these guys to establish a discreet surveillance and contact us immediately." "You know, the sophistication of the explosive charges just doesn't match with the carelessness implied by the fingerprints on the cards.” That contradiction had been bothering Judy since the beginning. "The bomb sophistication comes from suspect number three. Richard Kessler. He's a real piece of work. Expert in demolitions, usually in urban renewal projects where they need to bring down a big building in a small space. He was busted for aggravated assault on a peace officer in Kansas, and served three years. While in prison, he hooked up with a white supremacy group. Once out of jail, he drifted from militia group to militia group, teaching explosives. He's presently wanted in Kansas for parole violation. While not the brightest bulb in the box, he's an artist with explosives.” Eric pulled into the parking garage of the Hoover Building. "Suspect number two is another right-wing wannabe named Oscar Pruitt. He's also a former Vietnam vet, Army Ranger, with no known criminal record. And, of course, you already know about Marvin Ledbetter.” Eric continued as they walked toward the heavy security.

Once through that screening process and with her visitor's pass now clipped to the lapel of her suit, the two agents got into the elevator for the ride to the top of the building where the Director's office was located. “I still can't reconcile the presence of fingerprints on those cards with the planning inherent in that bomb design." "I have a theory,” Eric said. “What's the first thing you do when you get new business cards? You take some out of the box and look at them. So here's our little group getting the cards. They each look at them, admiring their fancy drawing and the bold print. Then they put them back in the box. When they go out on the job, they don latex gloves and take precautions, never thinking about the fact their prints are already on the cards." "That actually makes sense. I can see them doing exactly that.” Judy was impressed by the combination of logical deduction and common sense implicit in his idea. There was obviously more to this man than beefcake. They were ushered into the Director's office as soon as they walked in. He motioned for them to sit down in the chairs facing his desk as he spoke, “Welcome to Washington, Agent Deavers. It's nice to see you again. That was first-rate work at Tumwater. Your case notes allowed us to tie these three bombings together almost immediately. I'm sure Agent Johansson has brought you up to speed on what we've learned while you were on your way here.” At her nod of affirmation, he continued, “I want the two of you to work together on this. I got a call from the White House a little while ago. The President is very worried about this ‘Humanity First’ group and the bombings. He feels we've been fortunate there has been no loss of life associated with any of the three attacks. I assured him I was assigning the case to two of the best, and that's you two. You can call on whatever resources you need, and if anyone balks, you send them to me. Any questions?" Recognizing a dismissal, both agents stood. The Director shook their hands and they left his office. When they reached the elevator, Johansson turned to her and said, “We'll go down to personnel and get you an access badge for the building. No use having to go through the Visitor Pass routine every time you come and go from here." **** An hour later, they finally entered his office. Judy was surprised at the size of the room. In addition to the standard desk, he had a large computer credenza, a conference table with six chairs, and the walls held both a cork board and a large whiteboard. On the whiteboard were notes from the case. The lefthand column listed common factors about the bombing sites, including the fact they were unoccupied, connected to a large cavern via a hidden tunnel, and owned by AEthereal, Limited. Also included in this list was the small business card. The right-hand column detailed the suspects. The most common factor among them was their association with various known white supremacy groups. "Doesn't the name seem a bit odd for a white supremacy group? Those clowns seem to like names like Aryan Nation. ‘Humanity First’ sounds more...” Judy paused as she searched for the right word, “...ecumenical than what these guys normally espouse." "I agree, but we won't know what they mean until we either catch these jokers, or find some kind of manifesto for the group. Who knows what kind of strange ideas they're operating from?” Eric looked at his watch. “It's pushing six. Why don't we get you settled into a hotel and grab a bite to eat?" **** After registering in the Sheraton hotel not too far from where Johansson lived, Judy went upstairs to her room to freshen up. After checking her makeup and washing her hands, she met Johansson in the lobby. “Nice room. A bit more upscale than the last place I stayed.” At his confused look, she explained

about the tent city at Tumwater Canyon. “I shared my tent with several very hungry mosquitoes. Between them, the rickety field cot and musty sleeping bag, I didn't sleep much. Now I have this humongous bed with seven pillows and a whirlpool. So where to? This is your city." "Like Chinese? I know a great little place.” Preferring the idea of a small restaurant rather than the hotel dining room, Judy readily agreed and they went to eat. **** About midway through their buffet dinner at the Golden Pagoda, Johansson's cell phone rang. “Johansson,” he said as he opened the phone. “Where at? Okay, take no action other than surveillance until we get there.” He looked up at Jody. “Ready to take a trip to the Ozarks? One of the locals spotted Richard Kessler in a dark green Ford Expedition pulling into the lane of a farmhouse. They have the place under surveillance." "Eric, does the Bureau have any helicopters on call here? I can fly us there in under ninety minutes." "Well, the Director did say we had access to whatever resources we needed. Let me make a call.” While Eric placed another call to set up the helicopter, Judy settled the tab for their dinner. She even arranged to have some of the food packaged into containers to take with them, along with several bottles of water. "Okay, the bird will meet us at the helipad atop the Hoover Building in an hour. I'll drop you off at your hotel while I go pack an overnight bag, then I'll pick you up in about forty minutes. Looks like you'll need a rain check on that big bed and whirlpool." **** The FBI pilot refused to let her fly the helicopter since he didn't know her certifications. Rather than fight about it, they just pressed him into service to ferry them to the location provided by the local sheriff. At one in the morning, the helicopter landed in the middle of the local high school football field. As they stepped out from under the rotors, they were greeted by the local sheriff, who led them to his patrol car. Tossing their bulletproof vests into the backseat first, Deavers sat in back as Johansson climbed in the front passenger seat next to the sheriff. Lights and siren wailing, they sped off to the outskirts of town. "Don't fret about the siren. I'll kill it before we get close,” the sheriff yelled over the noise. “I got twelve men scattered around the farm. It's the old Hobart place. Thought it was still empty until about two weeks ago. Yard was cut, couple vehicles in the drive. Been meaning to stop by and introduce myself. Guess it's a good thing I never found the time." True to his word, the sheriff flipped the switch and killed the siren and light bar after a few more minutes. Another ten miles further, he pulled off onto a dirt road and then parked next to several other police cars. Waving them to follow, he headed off into the woods. Johansson and Deavers followed him and soon came to a small bluff overlooking the back of a farmhouse about fifty feet below them. “That's the place. No one's been in or out since we followed that Kessler character here about noon." Johansson studied the layout of the area. Moving back into the woods, he opened his phone and called the Counterterrorism unit. "This is Johansson. I need an ETA on the tactical team enroute down here. I need them all in position before dawn.” He listened a moment. “That'd be great. Appreciate the support. Call me on my cell if you need me." "Sheriff, in about two hours, an FBI tactical response team will arrive. Could you have someone meet the team in town and lead them out here?"

"No offense, Agent Johansson, but we don't want another Ruby Ridge here.” The sheriff's crossed arms emphasized his reluctance. "None of us wants that, Sheriff. We need these people alive to understand why they've been bombing buildings around the country. So far, the charges all stem from property damage. There haven't been any capital offenses committed." "Just so we understand each other. This is a quiet town and we like it that way.” The sheriff was in no way convinced. **** Dawn. In the past few hours, the FBI tactical response team had taken positions overlooking the farmhouse from all sides. A surveillance unit had carefully crept through the yard to attach wireless listening devices to accessible windows. Back in the field behind the woods, another team listened to the individual devices, detecting only the sound of snoring from two of the rooms, ostensibly the bedrooms. Analysis of the noises detected three snorers. At six a.m., the surveillance van reported the sound of an alarm clock ringing. There was some muttered grumbling, the sound of a toilet flushing and one subject pounding on an interior door yelling for someone named Pruitt to get his ass out of bed. Lights came on in what the sheriff said was the kitchen. The sound of water filling a coffeemaker, and then the sound of it dripping through its cycle. Subject One: “Pruitt, is Marvin up yet?" Subject Two (Pruitt): “Yeah, he's taking a piss." Subject One (Kessler?): “Get him. I thought I heard something." Johansson moved his tactical radio to his mouth. “All units, stand by. Suspects appear to have heard a noise. Stay loose." Subject Three (Ledbetter): “It's too early for this shit, Dick." Subject One (Kessler): “Look, I heard something from the cellar. I don't know about you two assholes, but these things scare the shit out of me and I ain't taking no chances. Come on. Grab your guns and let's check it out." Sounds of weapons being loaded. Footsteps across kitchen. Interior door opening. Footsteps descending wooden stairs. Mumbled conversation, too faint for analysis. Subject (unknown) screams: “Look out!" Gunfire. Screams. Silence. Johansson screamed into his radio “All units, move in. Shots fired.” Johansson, Deavers, and the sheriff jumped into the car and raced around to the access road to the farmhouse. By the time they got there, the tactical team had forced entry into the house. Two agents stood in the kitchen, automatic weapons aimed at the open door to the cellar. Other agents had fanned out throughout the house to make sure the rest of the building was empty. At a nod from Johansson, the lead agent yelled out, “Federal Officers! Put your weapons down, get on your knees, and lock your hands behind your heads!" Moving into a covering position, the agents slowly advanced down the stairs. Suddenly, one agent dashed back up, stripped off his gas mask, and bent at the waist to vomit as he exited the house. As Deavers and Johansson moved to the cellar door, they became aware of the odor of burnt pork. The three suspects lay on the basement floor, burned to a crisp. Their weapons were melted and distorted as if exposed to intense heat. The rest of the room was undamaged by flame. There was no

sign of any possible source for whatever had killed them. There were no exits from the cellar other than the wooden stairway the agents had descended. “What in the hell happened down here?” Johansson asked, knowing no one knew the answer. The raid became another media circus. The TV cameras captured images of the three body bags being carried from the farmhouse and loaded into transport vehicles while grim-faced men in FBI vests looked on. There was a brief attempt to interview the lead agents, but their ‘no comment’ was never even televised. Instead, the cameras focused on the local sheriff, who not only told them the names of the FBI investigators, he then said, “The tragedy in the basement could have been avoided if the FBI had just stayed out of it. My boys had this place covered and none of them bombers would have gone anywhere.” When asked what caused the deaths of the three men, the sheriff could only speculate that something must have gone wrong with their materials. **** Back in the Hoover Building, Deavers and Johansson stared at the whiteboard on Johansson's wall. Next to each of the three suspects’ names was now written “deceased". A departmental forensic pathologist had confirmed the identities of the three grisly corpses through the use of dental records, as well as medical charts that contained the history of the healed fractures found in the bones during the autopsies. The autopsy report also included the comment that the bodies had been burned by jets of intense flames, hotter than from a military issue flamethrower. No trace of any combustible or accelerant materials had been found, including chemicals or petrochemicals. A search of the farmhouse had not revealed any additional information. A stockpile of the cards was found, one with the cryptic scrawl “Earth belongs to us", with the word “us” underlined twice. There were road maps and directions to each of the three bombing sites found in Kessler's Ford Expedition. There were also maps of various other locations, but nothing to indicate whether any of them were other targets. A check of the telephone records failed to reveal anything of value. They were literally at a dead end.

Chapter 3 The room appeared to have been hewn from solid rock. Illumination came from guttering torches burning at intervals around the room mounted in wrought iron brackets on the walls. One wall held a huge stone fireplace, over which was hung a massive oil painting of a large red dragon, wings spread, one foreleg pinning a horse in war armor to the ground while the other did the same to a knight. A shattered lance was displayed along the mantle. Sixteen high-backed marble chairs sat in a circle, each resembling a stone throne. Each chair was aligned perfectly with the magnetic field of the planet. One was at true north, another directly opposite it, a third at true east, and a fourth at true west. The remaining chairs were spaced evenly around the circle, representing the intermediate compass points. Only the four cardinal chairs were occupied. North was occupied by a large muscular man, black of hair, eye and clothing. Seated in the south chair was another large, muscular man with brown hair, eyes and clothing. At east was seated a tall, slim female, with hair so pale, it appeared pure white. Her eyes seemed to change color, shifting through every hue. Her attire was white linen. Enthroned in the western chair was a woman with hair as red as fire, clad in scarlet, her figure as voluptuous as the other was slim. The woman in white spoke first. “Ebon, why have you summoned us?" The dark visage turned her way. “To advise you that the problem has been dealt with, Astra. Those responsible for the destruction have been removed as a threat." "Did you at least question them first? Did you find out who is really behind this outrage?” the woman in red demanded. Ebon growled with seething anger at her presumptuousness. “I would not stoop that low. Let them fear us as they should, Hecate. Their deaths were an object lesson for all who would raise a hand against us." The other male spoke, his tone conciliatory, “Ebon, we have coexisted for centuries. We have a pact with their leaders. We agreed to take no offensive actions without consulting them. In all fairness, we need to go to them now and explain what you have done and why." The dark male's wrath exploded. “Explain, Grendal? Never. I tell you now, and mark my words well. Should these attacks continue, they will be met with the full fury of my battle wing. We shall make no distinction between them. It will be war as they have never faced it before and we will not stop until we have wiped them from the face of the planet." "Ebon, calm yourself.” Astra reached out to touch his arm, stroking her fingertips across his clenched fist. “We all agreed to dwell among them as partners as long as neither side threatened the other. These acts of destruction have been provoking, true, but no lasting harm has been done. Do not force this issue to a point where our secret is revealed to the world at large." Turning to the others, she continued, “I shall visit the chosen leaders and get their assistance in resolving this matter in a less drastic solution than that proposed by my brother. I shall insist the number of those with direct knowledge be few to safeguard the secret. Trust me in this. If I fail, we can ultimately turn to my brother's desire for fire and death." Grendal the Brown nodded his assent, as did Hecate the Red. Ebon the Black growled at his sister and turned his back. "I thank you for your support,” Astra said. “I shall contact you as soon as I have news." Each closed their eyes and stilled their motion. A soft blue glow surrounded their bodies, slowly intensifying in brilliance. When it faded, the chairs were empty.

Chapter 4 It had been two days since the deaths of the three suspects in Missouri. Deavers and Johansson were beginning to think they would never know what happened in that cellar. The specialists from the lab had been unable to determine exactly how the three men had burned to death in a confined space without any viable ignition source. No trace of any sort of accelerant was found. Analysis of the damaged weapons suggested a wave of intense heat in excess of one thousand degrees Fahrenheit had been focused briefly upon each one, probably while still in the hands of the suspects. The weapons had melted as the people were incinerated. They had just finished briefing the Director on the investigation, including the fact they were at a dead end. Judy Deavers was staring morosely into her coffee, thinking about going back to Spokane without having resolved the case. She didn't even look up when the telephone on Johansson's desk rang. "Johansson. Hello, Janice. Excuse me, would you repeat that? Yes, we'll be there.” Johansson looked stunned as he hung up the telephone. At Deaver's raised eyebrow, he announced, “We have an appointment at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in less than thirty minutes." "Wait a second. Isn't that the address of..." "The White House. We're about to see the President of the United States." They practically ran out of the building, jumped in Johansson's Bureau car, and drove over to the White House. The security guard took their names and checked them against a roster of appointments. He directed them to drive past the portico where someone would show them where to park. The Secret Service agent directed them to a parking space away from the building and then checked their identification against some papers faxed over by the Director's office. He led them into the east wing, took them to an office and confiscated their weapons. “You'll get these back when you leave.” He handed them each a visitor badge and then led them to the anteroom outside the Oval Office. “I'll be here waiting when you leave.” A buzzer sounded and they were escorted into the room. "Agents Deavers and Johansson, please sit down,” said the President, leading them to a grouping of sofas. “I know it sounds impossible, but I want you to try and relax. We have a great deal to talk about and some decisions to make about what we should do next." The President sat in the center of the sofa facing them. He leaned forward as he said, “This is going to sound insane, but you must believe what I'm about to tell you. I cannot stress enough the importance of this. First of all, I know you each have fairly high security clearances. The classification of what we are about to discuss goes above anything in the lexicon. Before now, only the President of the United States has been privy to the information I'm about to reveal. One of the first things that happened after I was sworn into office was a meeting in this very room with the outgoing President. He handed me a group of folders. Each folder contained information passed on from President to President. Today, we'll talk about perhaps the greatest secret of them all." The President took a few minutes to offer them refreshments, and he waited while the coffee service was delivered. Once the door was secure once again, he cleared his throat. “First, I need you each to answer a question. This is going to sound melodramatic, but I'm more serious than I have ever been. Do you swear, on your lives, that the information you are about to hear will remain secret; that you will not divulge this information to another human being in any fashion, even after your death? I must warn you, the penalty for telling anyone what you're about to hear will be drastic. You will disappear, permanently. In short, you'll be executed without benefit of trial and without the public ever knowing what happened to you. The same is true for whomever you may pass this information on to.” He sat there looking at them, clearly expecting an answer.

Johansson spoke first. “You have my word, Mr. President." Deavers, swallowing her fear, also spoke in agreement. "Okay, here goes. Shortly after the detonation of the first atomic bomb in New Mexico, President Truman was visited by a woman who called herself Astra. She basically appeared in his bedroom without any warning and without alarming the Secret Service agents outside the bedroom door. She told him what I'm about to tell you. At that time, the President didn't believe what she said and didn't listen to her. When the U.S. began underground nuclear testing, Astra reappeared to President Eisenhower in much the same manner. She reminded him of her prior visit to Truman, and demanded the immediate cessation of underground testing. Now, Dwight Eisenhower was a practical man and not given to leaps of faith, so he asked Astra if there was any way she could prove what she had stated. They arranged to meet in a completely isolated spot and Astra provided her demonstration. Shortly afterward, the U.S. began to press the other nuclear nations to ban all nuclear weapons testing, especially underground." The President took a deep breath, and then continued, “As you know, mankind was not the first species on this planet. In fact, we're really the new kids on the block. For millions of years, dinosaurs roamed the Earth in great abundance. Even today, we're discovering new dinosaur species at a rate of four or five each year. It has long been theorized that a wandering asteroid smashed into the Earth somewhere off the Yucatan Peninsula, which caused the end of the reign of the dinosaurs. True enough as far as it goes, but there was a twist.” He looked at both agents as he said, “There was one species that wasn't destroyed. This species liked to live underground in deep caverns. They were feared by all the other species because they could do some things none of the others could. They could fly and they could breathe fire. They called themselves the AEthereal, but our legends call them Dragons." He waited for the look of incredulity to fade from the agents’ faces before he continued. “The dragons also apparently had the ability to teleport themselves. Immediately after the asteroid impact, they left Earth and for the next thirty million years or so, they explored the universe." Another deep sip of coffee, and he continued, “Periodically, the dragons would return to Earth. A new creature was now dominant on the land, and that creature was man. Individually, the new species offered no threat to the mighty dragons. Over the next few centuries, there were encounters, which have ultimately led to our legends about dragons. "Finally, one dragon discovered a new ability which, combined with their ability to move between dimensions, permitted the dragons to change their shape. By adopting the guise of human form, they began to move among mankind. The majority of the dragons resumed their exploration of the universe, but a few remained to watch over the planet and the humans, vigilant for any threat to their continued existence. It wasn't until we detonated the atomic bomb that we became a serious threat, so a representative approached us to stop. When that failed to move us, they continued to watch. When we began underground testing, we inadvertently destroyed one clutch of dragon offspring. Mad with grief, the parents prepared to attack. The representative pleaded for one last chance to make us understand, so she approached once more. That time, we listened." Johansson sat shaking his head. “Mr. President, what possible demonstration could she have made to make anyone believe this tale?" "She transformed herself into a two hundred foot long white dragon, flew up into the air approximately three hundred feet, and then turned while in midair, releasing a fire blast that completely melted a nearby Sherman tank to a bubbling puddle of metal. Landing once more, a frightened soldier opened fire on her. Bullets merely bounced off her scales. Resuming human form, she then laid out the terms of the agreement that exists through this day. Mankind will take no action that threatens the continued

existence of the dragons, including exposing their existence, or they will return, in force, and wipe mankind from the face of the planet.” Finished with the tale at last, the President sat back on the couch. "Mr. President, with all due respect, this sounds insane! Do you honestly believe any of this ever happened?” Judy Deavers asked. "Honestly, no, I don't. Or at least, I didn't. Even though the contact agency existed under a seal of protection from the English Crown, I still thought my predecessors were suffering from some kind of delusion. Until today, that is. At about four this morning, I was awakened by a nimbus of blue light that appeared in my bedroom. When the light faded, a striking woman was standing there. She matched, in every detail, the description both Harry Truman and Dwight Eisenhower gave of the woman who had appeared to them. She told me her name was Astra and, in the name of the concord between our peoples, she asked for our help." "Our help?” Johansson repeated. “I'll bet that contact agency is called AEthereal, Limited and they're the targets of Humanity First." "Eric, look!” Judy Deavers cry made Johansson turn his head. A soft blue glow had begun to appear about six feet away. When the glow faded, a tall, white-haired woman stepped forward to join them in the sitting group. Automatically, both Deavers and Johansson cataloged her appearance: approximately six feet tall, weight about one hundred thirty-five, hair, waist length, white in color, eyes ... silver? No, make that gray. No, blue. They seemed to shift color. Clothing: simple white linen suit. Features: absolutely stunning. Johansson had no idea what there was about the woman's face; he couldn't seem to grasp the individual features and the whole was definitely greater than the sum of its parts. Her voice, a liquid alto like the rush of water over stones in a brook, was magical. “On behalf of my people, I thank you for this service. It is imperative to both our races we find those behind the attacks on us. Time is of the essence. There are factions among my kind who advocate returning ownership of this Earth to us. They would settle for nothing less than the extermination of your kind." The President looked at the two stunned agents and shook his head. He knew how they felt. They had been exposed to the contents of only one of the twelve folders. Since the contents of the most fantastic folder had been proven true, he knew beyond a doubt the others must be as well. No wonder his predecessors aged so quickly in this job! He doubted he would ever sleep soundly again in his life. Perhaps Ronald Reagan had been the lucky one, after all; Alzheimer's had erased these terrible secrets before his death. "I know each of you has sworn an oath to support and defend the Constitution of this great land, and to uphold all the laws that govern our society. However, in carrying out this mission, you won't be able to honor those oaths. In my hand, I have a Presidential Pardon for each of you, absolving you of any crimes you may commit in the furtherance of this mission. In addition, you are hereby appointed as special agents of the United States, operating under the control of the President. Those credentials will direct all agencies, civilian or military, to obey any instructions you may give them, provide any resource you may request, and to assist you in any manner you may require. Any questions pertaining to these instructions are to be directed to me here at the White House.” He handed them each their pardons. "Your mission is still the same. Investigate the group calling itself Humanity First and stop them. They are to be found down to the lowest level, root and branch. Anyone, and I mean anyone, who has knowledge of the existence of the dragons must be found. Once found, the threat they represent must be eliminated by whatever means necessary. Let me be plain.” The President glared at each agent in turn. “There will be no trial. There will be no public acknowledgement of these people."

"Mr. President, I cannot kill someone in cold blood. What if one of these people has told his children? Where do we draw the line?” Judy Deavers quietly asked. "The line, Agent Deavers, is the survival of the human race. God forgive me, but if that means killing a four year old child to protect our species, so be it." Astra's liquid voice broke the tension in the room. “Once those who know are identified, we will handle them. You need bear no further responsibility for them." Silence descended on the room. "Perhaps it is time for me to depart. I shall join you two soon and we will discuss the next steps we must take,” Astra said. A soft blue glow began to surround her form and then she vanished. Shaking off his amazement, the President turned to the stunned agents. “I know both of you will do what needs to be done. Our nation, our species, is counting on you two. If you need anything from me, you can reach me day or night, anywhere in the world.” He shook their hands and then escorted them through the door back to the anteroom. The Secret Service agent led them back to the room they had first entered. He asked them to step back, one at a time, in front of a Presidential Seal hanging on the wall. He took their pictures, then printed out identification cards, which he then laminated. “These identify you as Presidential Agents. The President has asked that you retain your FBI credentials and use those whenever possible. You are also, from this moment on, entitled to full access of the White House when using these new credentials. Whatever you do, don't lose them.” The agent then returned their weapons, which each agent then checked to make sure there wasn't a round chambered before holstering them. The agent then led them back to their car. Neither spoke as they drove back to the Hoover Building, lost in their thoughts about what they had seen and heard. Upon reaching Johansson's office, he picked up the phone. “Janice, I need to see the Director. Oh, I see. We'll be right there." He turned to Judy and said, “Seems the Director is expecting us. Apparently, the President called him a couple minutes ago." When they entered the Director's office, he spoke first. “By direction of the President, you're assigned solely to the mission he has directed under a classified Presidential Order. I know it involves the identification of members of the terrorist group Humanity First. Beyond that, I have no need to know. You will have the full resources of the Bureau at your disposal." "I guess that about covers it, sir,” Johansson said. The Director shook their hands as he led them from the room. “Janice, these two are on the top of the list to reach me, any time of day, anywhere in the world." Judy was struck by the Director's eerie echo of the President's words from an hour before. Perhaps knowing that both the Director and, more incredibly, the President of the United States expected them to call at any time, and that they would make themselves available for that call made Judy realize this whole thing was all too real. They really were expected to save the entire world from extermination by dragons by tracking down a group of people who apparently also knew about their existence. Incredible. Insane. Terrifying. As she and Johansson reached his office, he closed the door behind them and then shut the blinds that covered the window in his door. As he returned to his seat behind the desk, he found that Judy had already poured him a fresh cup of coffee. Looking at the steaming mug, he spoke, “I almost wish I had a bottle somewhere in my desk. For the first time in my career, I could use a drink."

"I know what you mean. I'm still having trouble taking it all in; accepting what the President told us. It's just too ... fantastic." Johansson looked up at the whiteboard. “We need a new approach. The information we have just won't take us where we need to go. But before we get into that, let me ask you something. Do you think we can safely talk about all this here?" Deavers looked startled at the suggestion that the office, located in the center of the Hoover Building, surrounded by Federal agents, might not be secure. “Well, I don't think we need to worry about some Humanity First type sneaking in here!" "That's not what I meant. I'm talking about an agent walking past that door, casually overhearing something we might be discussing. I can easily imagine that agent walking around sharing the information with others. ‘Hey, guess what? Johansson has cracked. He and Deavers are in their office talking about dragons, for pity's sake.’ That would spread through the Bureau's gossip mill faster than any damage control we could bring to bear. And once that happened, we would fail." Judy nodded her head in agreement. “You're right. We need somewhere else to talk about all this. It has to be some place secure and must be free of the chance of exposure. Oh, and one more thing. It has to be some place where we can meet with Astra without anyone being curious about her. She's way too striking for anyone to ignore." "And I have absolutely no idea if such a place could even exist.” Waving his hand in the air, Johansson said, “Outside this building, we run the risk of chance exposure by the general public. We can also become a target for surveillance by a lot of different agencies, ranging from the bad guys to foreign governments.” Johansson sighed. “Look, we're doing no good here. Let's go grab a bite to eat and perhaps something will come to us." "Sounds good to me.” As she stood, she added, “Only, please, no fast food joints." Johansson drove out of the District and into Old Town Alexandria. The fresh air, combined with the abundant kaleidoscope of fall colors, made Judy's spirits rise. He parked the car and the two agents began to walk through Old Town toward a bistro that was one of Johansson's favorites. They took a small outdoor table, loathe spending one more minute indoors on such a spectacular day. After the waiter had taken their orders, Deavers turned to Johansson. “Since we'll be spending a lot of time together, I'd like to get to know you better. Tell me a bit about yourself." "Not much to tell, really. I grew up in northeastern Wisconsin just above Green Bay, an only child. I was what was called a change of life baby. My mother was in her mid-forties and my father was fifty when I was born. Neither of them lived to see me graduate from high school. I won an appointment to the Naval Academy in Annapolis. I spent ten years in the Navy after graduation, the last eight as a SEAL." "What made you leave the Navy?” Her curiosity about her new partner was evident in her tone. His eyes got a faraway look in them. “There were some things that happened that made me question what I was doing. Anyway, as I was deciding to leave the Navy, I started thinking about what I wanted to do.” He shook his head and let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “This will sound stupid, but at that moment, when I was really trying to decide what to do with the rest of my life, I looked up at the television just in time to see Efram Zimblast, Jr. in that series, ‘The FBI'. It just seemed like fate had shown me what to do. I went in to the local office and asked about recruitment opportunities. They wanted me, so the Navy released me early to enter the FBI academy."

The waiter brought their lunch choices. “I spent the first few years working out of small posts. You know what that's like. Eventually, I worked my way up the ladder to a bigger posting, until I was ASAC in New York. That was an education! Between the diplomats, spies and suspected terrorists, I never got any rest. Once the Domestic Counterterrorism unit was formed, I was selected to be in the initial cadre and I've been there ever since." "You seem to have omitted any personal life,” Judy mentioned, her curiosity about this man increasing. She couldn't help it. "I guess that's because I don't have one. Oh, I came close back when I was in the Navy but she couldn't handle being the wife of a SEAL or what it was doing to me. The breakup was pretty nasty. Since then, I've never found anyone that made me want to risk it again.” Agent Johansson picked up his coffee cup. “So, what about you?" "Like you, I'm an only child. I grew up in Kershaw County, South Carolina, where my family raised horses. I went to the University of South Carolina, the other USC, majoring in Criminal Justice. I joined the FBI right after graduation. Did the usual scut jobs they give women in the FBI until the day I bagged a terrorist while going to the grocery store.” Seeing the look on his face, she said, “You never heard the story?” She grinned. “Well, truth is stranger than fiction. I was home visiting my folks when I needed some things from the store. I was driving back from the Piggly Wiggly, passing near the Air Force base, when I saw something odd. I doubled back and pulled into this small park beside the base perimeter fence. They used the park to fly model airplanes. Anyway, there was this guy trying to cut through the base perimeter fence with an old rusty pair of wire cutters. Dull wire cutters. I shouted ‘Federal Agent’ and he turned, throwing the cutters at me. I ducked and accidentally discharged my weapon. My bullet struck him in the knee, dropping him to the ground. The military police heard the gunshot and responded, as did one of the local policemen, who had seen the altercation as he drove by. After identifying myself as an FBI agent, I explained I had seen the man cutting his way through the fence. To make a long story short, the van he was driving was filled with explosives. I got a commendation, made ASAC, and then SAC in Spokane." She took a sip of her espresso. “I've never had much time for a personal life either. It's harder for a woman in the FBI, you know. Everyone assumes I made it because I slept with someone or, if I don't date, then I must be a lesbian.” She shook her head. “Most men find out what I do and get intimidated. I went out with this one man that I'd met at some event my parents dragged me to at the Governor's Mansion in Columbia. We were in Five Points at a small café, much like this one, when he decided it was a good time to snort some coke. I watched open-mouthed as he did it right in front of me, and then he offered me some! I told him I was an FBI agent and he was under arrest.” They enjoyed a laugh at the expense of the stupid drug user. “So I bury myself in my work." "Where did you learn to fly a helicopter?" "My folks had one. My dad taught me to fly it, along with the Piper Cherokee he also owned. He taught me to shoot before I was ten. Everything from shotguns to handguns. My instructors at Quantico were impressed; they even tried to get me to stay on as a marksmanship instructor rather than take a field assignment." After they finished their lunch, they started to walk back toward the car. Standing next to the car, her long hair tossed by the breeze, stood Astra.

Chapter 5 "Hello. I thought it would be easier to meet with you here, away from your office.” Her unusual voice was just loud enough to be heard by the two agents. Nodding in agreement, Judy said, “We've been trying to come up with someplace we can work on this without the risk of disclosure to others." Astra looked at them, her changing eyes measuring. “I have such a place. Trust me when I say no one will be able to intrude on you there. But first, I will take you some place we can talk freely. To get there, you must trust me.” She pointed to an alleyway nearby and the three walked over to the narrow passage. After carefully observing the surroundings, she took Johansson's hand in her left and Deaver's in her right. Astra closed her eyes and began to concentrate. The soft blue light began to surround the group. "Hey, wait a..." The light faded. "...minute!” Johansson exclaimed. "Where are we?” Judy asked, her voice a bit shaken by the experience they'd just had. One second, they were standing in an alley in Alexandria and the next, they were ... here. Her eyes took in the hewn stone walls, the circle of marble thrones, the guttering torches, the painting and the lance. “No offense, Astra, but we can't work here!" "I know, child. I brought you here so we could talk without interruption, for I am sure you both have many questions. As for where we are, this is the Council chamber, a place where my kind comes to discuss mutual problems and seek solutions to them. It is located deep inside a mountain in what you call Austria." Judy Deavers bristled at being called child, but the word Austria caught her attention. “Austria! You brought us all the way to Austria?" "It is actually just a short distance for us. We can move between the stars just as easily. Come, let us sit down and talk." As they moved to the circle of thrones, Astra pointed to the north chair. “Do not sit there. It is my brother's seat. I have often wondered whether it was the chair that makes him so belligerent and disagreeable." "Your brother?” Judy asked. "Yes, Ebon the Black. He has much cause for his anger and his hatred of your kind for it was his and Hecate the Red's offspring which were destroyed in the blast all those years ago." "Astra, if your species has spent all these millennia exploring the stars, why is Earth so important to you? You must have settled upon thousands of worlds by now.” Judy asked the question that had bothering her since the meeting with the President. Astra's silvery eyes bored into the two agents as if weighing their very souls. Finally, she spoke. “In my eons of watching humanity, I have become a true judge of your character. Very well, I shall trust you with one of our secrets. Throughout the millennia of exploration, we have found one disturbing fact which has since driven our behavior. Only on Earth may we successfully bear our young. Attempts on other planets have been either fruitless or had horrific results. Either the eggs never develop or the creatures within are so malformed, they cannot survive."

"Did I understand you correctly? Your kind must return to Earth to have their babies?” Judy asked. "Yes, that is true. We do not reproduce often, only every thousand years or so. It is a good thing, or the universe would be filled with dragons. As I was saying, when our time approaches, we must come back here to the cavern of our own birthing. Once the eggs are laid, we stay with them through hatching and the initial years until our young are mature enough to move to another world themselves." "How long does that take?" "Oh, about a century or so." Johansson spoke up, “And in all this time, you've never been discovered?" "I never said that. Even in our caverns, man has sometimes found us. It is unfortunate for the man,” she shrugged, “but our young must also eat. In the early days of your species, we would sometimes move about on the surface. Confrontations with man eventually made us withdraw until we mastered the ability to change our forms. It is now customary for us to remain in this form when on this world, unless we are in the birthing caverns." "Look, this is all very fascinating but can we get down to business?” Johansson said, more than a little disturbed by the idea the dragons had once considered people as food. "Such an impatient species. I suppose that comes from living such a brief span. Very well, what are your questions?" "Tell me about the houses that were bombed,” Johansson asked. "Wherever one of our chambers has an access to the surface, we have built a structure to disguise that opening. In this manner, we can come and go without attracting attention and reduce the risk of someone finding the cavern." "So in destroying the houses, they hope to expose the caverns,” Judy suggested. "Yes, that would mean people would start examining the caverns and make them useless to us." "Are there many such caverns?” Johansson asked. "There are hundreds of them, but only a few have openings to the surface. Most lie even deeper and are served by underground rivers. Since we can teleport ourselves to the surface whenever and wherever we wish, the absence of direct access is not viewed as a detriment." "What happened to the three men in that cellar?” Johansson asked, even as he suspected the answer. Astra shook her head sadly, “That was my brother. You must understand, he takes his position as Guardian very seriously and he hates your kind. He hunted those men assiduously. When he found where they were hiding, he laid a trap for them. He lured them into the basement, away from the eyes of those outside. He then opened a portal while in his true form. He savored their panic at being confronted by the appearance of a huge black dragon's head thrusting through what had been a solid wall. He said they were not worth eating, so he breathed his flame upon them, one at a time. He then withdrew and allowed the portal to close." Memory of the charred remains flashed through both agents’ minds as she spoke. The implications of her words also sank in. No place was safe from the dragons. They could open a portal anywhere, at any time. "Unfortunately, by killing them, your brother has made this much harder. They might have told us who was calling the shots. Okay, we need a fresh approach.” Johansson began to pace around the room as he spoke. “Obviously, someone out there knows about you. He knows about your caverns. The key

questions here are how did he find out and how is he convincing others, like our three bombers, to join his cause. You have sent representatives to our people before. Is there any way we can talk to those representatives?" Astra smiled. “I have been the only representative to speak with your people. From our initial contact a thousand years ago through today, I am the only dragon to be permitted this duty." Johansson looked a bit nonplussed for a moment as the import of her words settled in. This being was old. In fact, there was really no way to anticipate how old. As if reading his mind, Judy spoke up, “Astra, just how long have you lived?" Astra looked a bit puzzled at the question. “We don't measure the passage of time the way you do. I simply am and always have been. My memories stretch back far into the past, even before the fall of the great rock from the sky." Holy Mother of God. She's saying she's over sixty-five million years old. Her mind could not grasp that concept. She looked at Astra in her human guise and would place her age at somewhere in her midthirties, discounting the white hair. Shaken by this revelation, Johansson asked, “We must assume the exposure occurred in modern times. When you made you first visit to the President, who was present?" "Only the man and his mate. Those who guarded him remained unaware outside the door." "Well, I doubt if Bess Truman is behind this. What about when you came back after the underground test?” Judy said. "I made two visits that time. The first was just to the man you called Eisenhower. He was alone. We spoke for almost an hour and set up the meeting for me to prove what I had said." "Where did that take place?” Johansson asked. "Up in the mountains at a place you call Camp David. There were several people there, despite the man Eisenhower's assurances. He had his guards, plus there were a few other men in uniforms." "Would you tell us about what happened that night?” Judy asked. "I came to them at the edge of an open space. The man Eisenhower asked if I was prepared to prove what I had claimed. I told him that I was. I moved to the center of the open space and shifted to my true form. He was pushed behind the guards. I asked the man Eisenhower if the metal can, what he called a tank, had any people inside." "Wait. You can talk while in your natural form?” Judy interjected. "No. We can, however, communicate directly with our minds. The man Eisenhower ordered the men out of the tank and I flew into the sky. I flamed the tank for a few moments until it was reduced to nothing more than a puddle. Then I landed in the field. One of the uniformed men shot at me with a gun. I asked the man Eisenhower to make him stop. He did so and I changed back to this form. He was convinced I had spoken truly. We went inside one of the buildings and talked the night through, developing the AEthereal Accord whereby neither species would do anything to bring harm to the other. Once we had agreed, I left." "Why is it called AEthereal Accord?” Judy asked. "That is what we are: beings of the AEther, of the air. That is our name for ourselves." "It seems to me that our breach stems from that night. Someone at that meeting broke trust and spoke of what he'd witnessed. I don't know how, but he has convinced others of the truth of his story, enough

anyway that they've started this campaign against you.” Johansson stopped pacing. “What we need to do now is find out who was there that night and what became of them afterwards. That will lead us to whoever is behind this and give us a chance to stop it from going any further." "Astra, we cannot use this place to work from. It's too far from where we have to be in order to investigate, not to mention that neither of us can get in or out of here,” Judy stated. "That is true. I have a home located near the site of Camp David. It, too, covers an access to a cavern. You can work there. Come, let us return to your car and you can begin."

Chapter 6 After driving back to the Hoover Building, Judy placed a call to the White House. As soon as she identified herself, she was told to “stand by". After a moment, she was startled to hear the voice of the President himself. "Agent Deavers, sir. Sir, I need some information and I don't know how to get it without coming through you." "Go ahead." "Mr. President, we believe the breach must have occurred the night of the Eisenhower demonstration. We need the names and files on everyone who was present at Camp David that night." "I never said it was at Camp David. How did you find that out?" "From the only other being present at the meeting. Sir, if we're to succeed with this mission, there cannot be any secrets kept from us. That's why we need the files on everyone who was there at the Camp, not just the Secret Service agents around the President at the time." "Well, who else could have been there?" "Mr. President, we know there were military personnel present who fired at the visitor. There were probably others there who took no direct action and as such, were ignored by the visitor." "You're right, of course. That would have to be the source. Did you ever have tunnel vision, Agent Deavers? You get accustomed to the trappings that go with this office, which includes the small army of people who are always around you. Soon, you no longer even notice them all. I'll bet that was true back in Ike's day, too." "Probably even worse for him, Mr. President. He had been Supreme Allied Commander. Military personnel had always surrounded him. What general ever really sees a private unless that person screws up?" The President chuckled, a rueful sound in Deaver's mind. “How true. Sharp thinking, Deavers. I'll have all the files delivered to you before noon tomorrow. It will give those folks in the archive something to wonder about, don't you think? A Presidential request for military and Treasury records dating back over forty years." "Thank you, Mr. President.” After hearing the President hang up, Judy returned the receiver to its cradle. Turning to Johansson, she relayed the gist of her conversation with the President. “Noon tomorrow before we see the records. Look, it's been a long day already. Why don't we call it a day, go home, pack for the mountains and get some sleep? We'll meet here around ten in the morning, pack up what little we have and then hit the road after we get the stuff from the White House." **** They had packed what few files they had from the three bombings and the investigation so far into a single box. The arrival of the information from the White House had necessitated a change in their travel plans, however. Three cartons of paper take up a lot of room, and there was no way it, plus their baggage and laptops, would all fit into the trunk of a Ford Taurus. A call down to the Bureau garage and they changed to a much larger Yukon SUV. With the assistance of some other agents, they soon had the seats folded down, all the boxes and their suitcases stowed in the vehicle. The Secret Service agent who had delivered the boxes, just happened to be the same one they had met at the White House the day before, handed them each a new cellular telephone.

"These phones are a bit different than your regular ones. These are encrypted and will work pretty much anywhere in the world. Only the White House knows the numbers, so if either one rings, try not to keep the Boss waiting." They tucked the phones into their laptop bags, shook the agent's hand, and headed north out of Washington. Judy quietly studied the man driving the Yukon. She had to admit she liked him. He had the same drive and sense of purpose she herself possessed. He was charming, gorgeous to look at, and she'd bet a month's salary the body under that tailored suit was as buff as they come. Fortunately, his selfdeprecating sense of humor saved him from being just another pretty face and kept his ego in check. **** Eric was having thoughts along a similar vein as he drove up I-70 into northeastern Maryland. Judy Deavers had everything he found attractive in a woman, all wrapped up in one package. She was smart and withstood shocks better than anyone he knew, and her slim, elfin beauty brought out a protective urge. He would have to be careful not to tread on what he hoped were competent toes. He was looking forward to getting to know her better, and to see whether what appeared to be an ideal woman had any bad habits she'd so far hidden. Aside from small talk about the weather and the roads, neither had really opened up, both were lost in their private thoughts, until they started getting close to their destination. Judy had the directions given to them by Astra, and she called out the route. “Turn left here,” and “Turn right at the next road,” were the extent of their conversation. After her final, “Take the next dirt road on the left", neither spoke again until they pulled to a stop in front of a cabin. "Is this the right place?" "What a dump!" They spoke almost simultaneously, their voices revealing their mutual disappointment. The small rustic cabin in front of them appeared to have been abandoned for the last several decades. The roof sagged in the center; the front door was off its hinges. The front porch had large holes where the boards had rotted away. None of the windows held an intact piece of glass. Huge spider webs draped the eaves. Astra walked around the side of the building and beckoned for them to follow. When they started to get out of the car, she motioned for them to drive behind her. She led them toward the hillside. As she approached, the hillside opened to reveal a well-lit garage area. Once the Yukon had entered the garage and been shut down, the hillside closed behind them. "Welcome to my home,” Astra said. “I can see by your faces that the subterfuge out front has worked once again. Yes, the cabin is a front, designed to mislead anyone who comes by here. My real dwelling is here behind it, inside the mountain itself. Let me show you around." Astra led them through a doorway from the garage and into a fantastic sunken living room. Its sheer size overpowered them. There were seating groups comprised of several couches in each corner of the room. The center held a large circular fireplace, with yet more comfortable seating scattered nearby. The walls were decorated with mythical paintings of dragons in flight. Well, maybe not so mythical, Johansson thought. Off the living room was a kitchen that would have been the envy of any gourmet chef. Stainless steel fronts on all the appliances, a fully provisioned walk-in refrigerator and a separate walk-in freezer, also full. Butcher block counters. Not one but three conventional ovens, two microwave ovens. There was a Jenn-Aire® range top, plus a ceramic or glass top range with eight burners. The cabinets were stocked

with all the modern appliances, from a top end coffeemaker to a food processor. The pantry was stocked with every comestible imaginable. Well, they sure wouldn't go hungry. Each bedroom suite was equally extravagant. The style of the furnishings varied from room to room. The room given to Johansson was heavy oak furniture, with a massive four-poster bedframe, all stained in a deep, dark oak. The king-size bed was lost in the room. The stone floor was carpeted in rich maroon plush that had to be three inches thick. The adjoining bath featured both a large three-head shower and a Jacuzzi whirlpool bath. Judy's room, located across the hall, was much the same, except her furnishings were in French Provençal with a more feminine color scheme. "I hope you will be comfortable here. My room is just a bit further down the hall, but I ask that you not go in there. Unlike these rooms, it is unfurnished. In that room, I can rest in my natural form in peace and quiet.” Both agents quickly agreed to respect her privacy, as they were sure she would respect theirs. Astra then led them to another room, filled with a twenty foot oval cherry conference table. Ten captain chairs, their leather upholstery dyed a snowy white, were placed around the table. Along one wall was a huge whiteboard, along the other, a retractable screen. From the center of the ceiling, a computer projector was suspended. At the back of the room stood several vacant lateral file cabinets, as if purchased to store the records the agents had brought with them. Finally, a podium stood adjacent to the table. The room looked like a corporate conference center in any Fortune 500 company. "There is a wireless access point in every room. Connectivity beyond this house, like the electricity, is provided by your government through the resources supporting Camp David. Water is provided through an underground aquifer. All wastes are disposed of underground as well. Fresh air is pumped through the mountain through a combination of natural convection and an air handling system whose surface elements are cunningly hidden. Even the smoke from the fireplace is broken up and released outside in tiny amounts miles away from this place." She then led them back to the garage and through another door on the other wall. This led to a fullyequipped gymnasium. Three of the walls were mirrored; the fourth wall was glass, overlooking an underground lake. “The lake is heated by a natural spring. There are no creatures living in the water because it is treated by a chlorine filtration system." The house amazed the two humans. “Astra,” said Judy. “This place is astounding. If I may ask, why do you have such a place? I mean, you aren't human yourself, so what's the point of all this?" "This is my home, Judy. It is our custom to live among you in human form whenever we are on this planet, except for the time spent rearing our young when that would be impractical. At times in the past, I have entertained my brother and his mate here, as well as those of my offspring who have chosen to visit me. You two are the first human visitors I have ever had." Eric asked, “If I may be impertinent, how can you afford all this? The furnishings and equipment here must have cost a small fortune." Astra smiled at him. “We are quite wealthy in your human terms. After all, who knows better where to find the precious minerals and gemstones than us? Do you think your legends of dragons and their treasure mounds came from nothing? Over the eons, we each collected vast riches just because we enjoyed the sparkle of the stones, or the soft warmth of the metal. Through my dealings with men, we learned of the value you placed upon these things. A few strategic deals, some careful investing, and the AEthereal, Limited shareholders became vastly wealthy. Since we avoid ostentatious display, few are even aware we exist."

The rest of the afternoon was spent in transferring the files from the Yukon to the conference room cabinets. Once the files were in place and organized, Eric found a sealed envelope bearing the Presidential seal with his name written on it. Upon opening the envelope, he found a CD-ROM disk and a note from the President. “This CD contains a synopsis of each individual and an inventory of all documents pertaining to that person. I thought it might be useful.” But before he could get the CD booted up, Judy appeared in the doorway to announce that dinner was ready. As they sat around the table eating the sumptuous meal Astra had prepared, Eric asked the question bothering him. “Astra, I'm confused about something. If your species is immortal, why do you still have offspring? Even at such a slow birth interval of a millennium, there should be billions of you by now." Astra looked at the two agents with momentary annoyance. “I could say the same for each of you and there are already billions of you! Your females can bear young around age thirteen or fourteen and can have a child every year until their middle age. Not counting the multiple births your species can have, each female could produce thirty or more children. Why do you not? Because it is a matter of personal choice. It is the same with us; mating is not a biological imperative. We have offspring when we choose to have offspring; rarely do any of us have more than two or three clutches during our breeding years. And while personal choice does enter into the mix, certain other factors also come into play. Whenever the species feels a need for an increase in certain categories of my kind—say, the need for more warriors—then those colors are driven to produce more young." Astra's face turned sad as she added, “I have never said we were immortal, for we are not. Our species can and does die. Some through accident or battle, but most just reach a point where the weight of their years overcomes the desire to go on. We have lost the spark of so many.” She paused for a sip of the delicate Cabernet. “It takes a very long time for us to mature, more than a million Earth years. Once we have matured and accepted a mate, we develop the desire to have offspring. Early on, our species mated more often but over the eons, that interval has changed to a cycle of a millennia or so. Our clutches are now very small, no more than two." "What are your offspring like?” Judy asked, "Like all young, I suppose: fractious, clumsy, constantly hungry. In the blink of an eye, a few decades or so, they grow strong enough to test their wings. After another decade or two, they begin to master the mental discipline to travel in astral form. Once proficient in astral form, they soon learn the next step and begin dimensional travel. As they approach maturity, they can breathe fire. I believe that is an ancient mechanism to attract a mate. Ah, you cannot imagine the aerial displays as two or more males vie for the affections of a young female, flames scoring the clouds in intricate patterns." Judy thought she sounded like any another woman at that moment, the wistful tone of remembrance of times past. “That sounded too much like the voice of personal experience. Where is your mate?" "We mated before the day of the sky stone. Our mating flight took us far from the lands of our birth over the sea to the area you now call China. I was in the caverns there with our young when the stone fell. He was not with us, for he was a Green and, therefore, adventurous, always seeking new sights. On that fateful day, he had followed the sky stone and was too close when it impacted the Earth. Not even our scales could protect him from that horrific event. In the way of our kind, I felt his passing." She looked so sad, Eric feared they had stirred up too many emotions to learn any more at that time, but she surprised him by continuing. "Perhaps it is time to share my personal story and that of the AEthereal. After my mate's death, I devoted myself to my young. It is amazing how small even a huge cavern can be when filled with a mature dragon and several growing young. The bigger they got, the more I wished to see something

other than that dark rock space. Hunting was a nightmare, having to leave them alone there while I tried to find enough for them to eat." "An innate ability to teleport seems so unusual, especially in a creature that can fly. I wonder how it came to develop,” Johansson mused aloud. "Our legends speak of a time when it was new to the species. At that time, we knew how to project our consciousness outside our bodies in order to hunt or protect our young. It is very hard for a two hundred foot long creature to sneak up on anything, after all! Anyway, this AEthereal of legend saw something threatening her young and somehow, created the first portal in her desire to reach them in time. Imagine the surprise for the predator to have a full-grown angry AEthereal suddenly appear between it and its prey." "That makes sense, I guess. I can intellectually understand how you could open a doorway to somewhere you have seen, but what about traveling between worlds? How did that come about?” Johansson inquired. "That is one of the funnier stories from legend, although its result changed our lives forever. According to legend, one Green male was dreaming of a surface filled with warm air currents, sweeping vistas, mighty mountains, huge forests and herds of beasts. He could see it clearly in his mind and decided to follow his dream by opening a portal and stepping through. At first, he thought he was merely in the southern hemisphere until he looked to the sky above. A huge ringed planet dominated a quarter of the sky. He had left our world. After his panic subsided, he envisioned his familiar cavern, opened a portal, and stepped back home. This variation was so self-explanatory that soon, everyone was traveling to whatever places their imaginations could take them. "We spent the next few eons traveling among the worlds and dimensions. Some places were so wondrous, many chose to stay. There are places with crystal waters where the AEthereal rule the skies. The infinite variety calls to us. Most only return to Earth long enough to rear their young and then return to their paradise among the stars." Judy had been watching Astra during her discourse. “You've never left, have you?" "No, I stayed behind. This is my world. As your species took over, I limited myself to moving around only in astral form. I could see the occasional interaction between our species. It was usually one-sided, with the human becoming food. About twelve hundred years or so ago, things changed. Man began actively hunting us, clad in metal and riding horses. The last such encounter is immortalized in your legend of ‘the Dragon and St. George'. The truth was a bit less heroic than your legend. The human found the young AEthereal asleep, charged in, and managed to impale the immature female through her wings with his metal spear. Mortally wounded, pinned to the ground by the imbedded shaft, she still tried to fight back. It took him hours to hack her to death with his small, metal sword. After that, our young were forbidden to walk the surface of their home world in physical form. "Still, I yearned to interact with you. I studied your forms and mannerisms, and then applied a combination of astral projection and portal walking and found myself tottering about on two legs! It took a long time before I became comfortable with this form, but I did eventually master the semblance. Slowly, I began to move out among your people, learning more about you and refining my human persona. I taught the techniques to the others who came back here. "As your race expanded in the world and became more aggressive, even amongst yourselves, we began to worry about whether we could safely coexist. At that time, we selected the Council of Sixteen to watch over you. When you tested that first nuclear weapon, the Council was divided about what to do next. I asked for permission to approach the leader of the group with the weapon. While the man Truman ignored me, the weapon usage became limited to areas we had no interest in, such as small

atolls in the ocean. Then came the underground tests. What a tragedy that was. Ebon and his mate Hecate had spent centuries preparing their cavern for their new offspring. The weapon had been placed in the Earth above their cavern. Just two days after the birth of their young, the weapon was detonated, collapsing the ceiling and flooding the cavern with radioactive fire. The young had been crushed by the falling rock and seared by the plasma stream. Ebon and Hecate, badly injured, managed to port out to their other home on the Paradise planet. My brother is a creature ruled by his passions, and he tried to persuade the AEthereal to sweep Earth free of the scourge called humanity. By a narrow margin, I managed to dissuade the Council from taking such action and made a final appeal to your leaders. Unfortunately, that successful appeal now seems to have set the stage for the situation in which we now find ourselves." "Astra, I know President Eisenhower and British Prime Minister Macmillan proposed the first test ban treaty in 1959, but underground testing continued well into the 1960s under President Kennedy. In fact, didn't we conduct periodic tests up until 1992?” Eric asked. "Unfortunately, that is true. In each case, your government consulted with us before the tests, and they were limited to less than one hundred fifty kilotons. By agreement, we had abandoned all our caverns in that part of your country. The continued testing still increased the discord among the Council of Sixteen, steadily narrowing the margin that protects your species from annihilation. "And that brings up a new issue. Between the loss of the caverns by your tests and the ones being exposed by these renegade humans, we have lost many of our chambers. It is important that no further chambers are exposed. Significant shuffling has been forced upon us to accommodate the needs of birthing mothers and further disruptions will impact the Council's position. "And now, my young friends, I must rest. I will probably sleep for several days, so I leave you to your labors in our mutual behalf. Should you need to depart, there is a device on a shelf near your vehicle that opens the garage door.” She stood and then walked down the hall to her room, entered, and closed the door behind her.

Chapter 7 Eric was just pouring his first cup of coffee when Judy walked into the kitchen. She was dressed in faded denim jeans and a sleeveless top. Her hair was still slightly damp from her shower, and her face was without any noticeable makeup. She caught him looking. "What? Do I have a smudge or something?" Handing her a mug of coffee, he said, “No, I was just thinking you don't look half bad when you consider it's,” he glanced at his watch, “just now six a.m." "I'm just glad you didn't see me when I came off the exercise equipment. I was a sweaty mess." "How long have you been up?” he asked, amazed she'd already had a workout. "Since about four, I guess. I really didn't sleep well. Some of Astra's story depressed me. They're so much like us in how they feel about each other and their children. You did pick up on the fact they're monogamous and mate for life. Since her mate died, she's been alone. I think that's why she became the de facto ambassador to the human race.” She looked around the kitchen. “I see you cleaned up from last night." "I've always had to clean up after myself since I've lived alone most of my adult life. I admit, it's usually in the mornings before I head out for the office, but it does get done.” He smiled. “How about you? You a slob, or a neat freak?" "A bit of both, actually. I can go days without cleaning anything and then I fall into some kind of hypercleaning mode, like the old whirlwind in the Mr. Clean™ commercials. So, she says changing the subject, what's our plan of attack today?" "I thought we'd see what's on that CD-ROM and tackle the files. I'd like to first get a feeling for who was actually present at that demonstration, and then see what became of them later." "What are you looking for?" "I'm not quite sure. But I think I'll know it when we find it." A few hours later, Judy looked up from the document she was reading. “Eric, did you read this summary about Camp David? It's rather interesting. I always assumed Camp David began under President Eisenhower, but it dates back to FDR and 1942." Eric took the summary and skimmed it. “I hadn't expected the Camp to be administered by the Navy. Personally, I figured it would be under Army control, especially under Eisenhower,” Eric replied. “Of course, looks like on the night in question, I was partially right. According to the records provided by the White House, Eisenhower ordered the Camp cleared of all but a few people that night. Present at the demonstration were the President, three Secret Service agents, two Army sergeants from the tank, and six Marines. The other twelve people present, mostly Navy caretaker personnel, had been taken to an interior room of Aspen Lodge under Secret Service guard. They had no exposure to the demonstration. So that means our search has to focus on eleven men, since I believe we can safely rule out President Eisenhower." He walked over to the white board and began listing names. Under the heading ‘Secret Service', he wrote Curtis Bradford, Darrell Elliott and Frank Scott. The heading for the Army personnel was ‘Tankers’ and he listed the names SSgt. William Perry and Sgt. Mark Bartlett. The third heading ‘Jarheads’ drew a smile from Judy Deavers. You can take the man out of the SEALs, but you could never completely remove the SEALs from the man. This list was longer, six names: GySgt. Milton

Bishop, SSgt. Herman Johnson, Cpl. Gregory Stephens, Cpl. David White, LCpl. Thomas Shepard, and LCpl. Michael Evans. She noted that Eric had drawn an asterisk next to the name of David White. "What's with the asterisk?" "Believe it or not, I know this guy. Back when I was a SEAL, it was Master Gunnery Sergeant White, the meanest son of a bitch I ever met. He's now retired and living here in Maryland. I'll call him and schedule an interview for this afternoon." "Good. I think you should take the lead during the interview, since you have a personal history." **** Master Gunnery Sergeant David White, USMC, Retired, still stood ramrod straight and looked much the same as he had back at Quantico when Johansson had met him. He escorted the agents back into his den, its walls a tribute to the thirty years the man had spent in uniform. Judy knew from her perusal of the man's records that White had served with distinction in Vietnam, had been wounded in action three times and had earned a chest full of decorations for valor. She also knew White's wife had passed away a few years before and their only child, a daughter, now lived in California with her husband and three children. "What's this all about? I know you didn't just stop by to visit an old Marine.” White's gruff voice didn't completely mask his loneliness. "Before I get to that, I want you to look at this.” Johansson handed over his White House credential identification. "I thought you said you were with the FBI?" "I am, but I'm working a special assignment for the White House. We need to talk to you about an incident that happened a long time ago when you were on guard detail at Camp David." A haunted look came into White's eyes. “You know I can't talk about anything that happened there." "You can with me. If necessary, I'll call the President and he'll direct you to talk about it with me." "What about her?” White asked, staring at Judy. "Agent Deavers is my partner and has the same clearances I do." Judy handed the man her White House and FBI credentials to examine. After handing them back, White closed his eyes and leaned back against the chair. “This goes against everything I've ever stood for. I took a solemn oath never, ever, to breathe a word about that night." "If it helps, I only want to know about the Marine and Army personnel who were there. I already know what transpired that night." White sat up sharply and stared at Johansson, his steely eyes boring into Johansson's soul. Then he sat back and seemed to relax. “Yes, I can see you do. It changes a man, knowing about them and what they can do." "So, you want to know about the military folks there that night? We were under the command of Gunny Bishop. Hard man to know, very much by the book. He was spooked by the way things were happening. First, we were told to draw the Camp down to minimum manning. Folks were shipped out all afternoon, except for a skeleton crew of swabbies that handled the lodge itself. Even the Marine guard was cut down to just the six of us. Then the President showed up with just a handful of Secret Service agents. Two of them gathered all the swabbies into the inside room at the lodge—you know, the special room they take the President if there was a threat on the grounds. You never heard such cussing

and complaining. The President, three of them guards of his, and the six of us then went over to the driving range. Parked at the edge of the tee box was a Sherman tank with two doggie noncoms. I don't know where that thing came from; it wasn't part of the usual setup at the Camp." "We'll get to them in a bit. You were telling me about Gunnery Sergeant Bishop,” Johansson said, trying to get White back on track. White glared at him a minute for interrupting his story. “Sorry, never been able to talk about that night before. Okay, Gunny Bishop. Killed in action in Nam during the Tet Offensive during his second tour. That night, after the President had returned to Washington, he took all five of us Marines aside and told us that we were never to talk about what we'd seen. Just the way he said it made an impression on me that kept my lips sealed to this day." "Did Gunny Bishop have any family?" "No, the Corps was his family. He was an old breed Marine. His whole life was the Corps. After him was Staff Sergeant Herman Johnson, a big Kraut from Minnesota or some place like that. Big kid, like you. Had his stuff together, too. I was near him that night and he kept telling me ‘Steady, steady,’ to keep me calm. He also bought it in Nam from a street kid with a grenade. Heard his wife had already split after he'd been in country for about six months. Not every woman is as good as my Martha.” He looked up at Johansson, “You knew she's passed, right?” When Johansson nodded, he continued. “Then came the Corporals. You had me and Greg Stephens. Poor Greg. He was killed about six weeks after that night on his way to get married. Drunk driver. Finally, we also had two lance corporals, Tom Shepard and Mikey Evans. Both were just kids. Neither one made it back from Nam, either. Tom stepped on a Bouncing Betty and poor Mikey died in a POW camp. "You know,” he said as he looked up at Johansson, “I hadn't even thought about the fact I'm the only one who lived through the war from that group. Isn't that something?" "Which one of you actually fired your weapon that night?" "Whoever told you a Marine fired those shots is a liar!” He bristled. “It was that Army coward who started shooting. The Gunny barked out a ‘Hold Fire!’ that froze us in our tracks but that silly bastard from the tank kept shooting, piss running down his leg. Can you imagine? It took the President himself to make that fellow stop! I think the President would have had the Secret Service shoot the coward if he hadn't finally dropped his weapon.” White shook his head in disgust. “What was that fellow's name, anyway. Don't think I ever did know it, son." "So you had very little contact with the Army personnel prior to or after that night?" "Son, there weren't any Army personnel at Camp David on any regular basis. Just the Navy and the Marines. We might see some Signal Corp specialist working for White House Communications every once in a while, but not tankers like those two. What use is a tank up in the mountains of Maryland?" "I want to thank you for talking with me today, sir.” Johansson stood. “You've been a big help." "I don't suppose you can tell me what this is all about?” White stood and then waved his hand in a gesture of negation. “No matter. None of my damned business, anyway. Take good care of yourself, son. Let me show you out." **** Eric and Judy went directly to the records when they returned to Astra's home. By mutual agreement, they each took one of the soldiers. Skimming over the records of Staff Sergeant William Perry told Eric that Perry was not their man. He surreptitiously watched Judy as she read the man's records. There was just something about her that really appealed to him.

Finally, Judy closed the file and looked up. “I think our probable suspect is this man, Sergeant Mark Bartlett. His record was completely different from the others." "Different in what way?" "After that night, his fitness reports went downhill. Makes sense if he displayed cowardice like that. His career would be toast. He left the Army within a year, returning to his home of record in Missouri. He disappeared in 1966." Eric had looked up at the mention of Missouri and the reference to the disappearance clicked in his mind. That was the fact he knew they would find. "That's not all. He had one child, a son, age ten when his father vanished." "Damn, Judy, that's great! I think we've found him. I don't know how Bartlett convinced his son about the dragons, why he disappeared, or how the son is convincing the others to help him, but at least now, we have a chance at stopping this." "Why don't you go call and get an APB out on Bryan Bartlett?” Judy suggested.

Chapter 8 It was April, 1966. Mark Bartlett sat in his den, drinking his beer, staring into the gloom. His life had been on a downward spiral ever since that night. The Army had made him and Staff Sergeant Perry sign all kinds of nondisclosure agreements and then some colonel from the Adjutant General's office had briefed them on the penalties for breaking them. The way he made it sound, it would be treated as treason against the United States, punishable by either life imprisonment or by death after a closed military court-martial. That damn Perry treated him like shit, too, always ragging him about discharging his weapon and calling him ‘yellow drawers'. After about a year, he couldn't take their crap anymore and he'd decided not to stay in. He thought coming back home would have made things better. He'd gotten his old job back at the mines and had soon started drinking with his buddies after work. Jo Ellen had not been happy about that and she'd started nagging him. One night, he'd come home drunk again and she'd really lit into him. He probably wouldn't have hit her if he hadn't been that drunk, but she just kept bitching at him. He'd warned her to shut her mouth. Then she'd said it; she looked him dead in the eye and said, “Whatcha gonna do, yellow drawers? Hit me?” Then she laughed at him! So he hit her, a solid right cross that smashed into her cheekbone and flung her back against the wall. She'd fled crying into the bedroom, slamming the door and locking it. He'd had enough crap from everybody and he walked over and kicked that damn door open. She'd cowered there in the corner, holding her face, crying. He slapped her again and again, shouting at her never to call him that again. He jerked her to her feet and tore her housedress off her body, then threw her down on the bed. He ripped off her panties and then took his belt and began to beat her with it, all the while, she was screaming and crying. When he was done, he went into the den and passed out in his recliner. When he woke up, she was gone, bag and baggage. But the bitch had her revenge; she'd left him the boy. He'd done okay by that boy. He'd told everyone that Jo Ellen had gone back east to visit friends and then a few weeks later, told them that she'd been killed in a car wreck. Everyone had been real sympathetic, the women even taking care of the boy when he worked or had a few beers. When the boy was nine, he started taking the boy with him into the mountains hunting, teaching him about tracking and how to wait, still as death, until he could take that perfect shot. He also taught him the truth about governments. You just can't trust governments. Last week, the boy had finally asked why he hated the government and he'd told his son about that night. He'd described how this woman had just appeared out of a blue light and then she'd changed into this big, white, winged dragon that flew up in the sky and then melted his tank! How his bullets just bounced off the damned thing. Finally, he told his son how the damned government, the damned President himself, had gone off to talk with the evil thing. The boy didn't believe him at first, so today, he'd show him. He'd take him to the cave up above Willow Creek and down deep into the ground to the big cavern. And then the boy would see, all right. His daddy had been telling him true, by God. Mark Bartlett dragged his sleepy ten year old son out of bed and made him get dressed. “Wear your jeans, a heavy shirt and your hiking boots, Bryan. It's a rugged hike in them passages.” Once the boy was ready, they got into Mark's old Ford pickup and drove up to Willow Creek. Once there, they put on their field packs and Mark grabbed his favorite .30-06 from the rack in his truck. An hour later, they were at the entrance to the cave. It really wasn't much in the way of a cave, about six feet high and about fifteen deep. At the back of the cavern, hidden in the shadows by a rock that stuck out of the wall, was a hole. Mark turned to his son, and said, “Follow me close, boy. And guard your flashlight well. Break the bulb, and it'll get mighty dark.” Getting down on his belly, Mark Bartlett wormed his way into the hole, pushing his pack and rifle ahead of him. Bryan watched as the hole seemed to swallow his father. Once he knew he could move without getting his father's boot in his mouth, Bryan knelt down and began to crawl after his dad.

It seemed to take hours until the passageway opened at last into the edge of the cavern. The hole came out behind a big rock, screening the opening from the main area. “Turn your light off!” his father hissed. “You want to die?” Bryan turned off his flashlight and then crawled out of the hole. Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the gloom. The walls of the cavern seemed to glow with some kind of luminescence, like his old Timex™ on his wrist. After a few minutes, he began to make out shapes in the cavern, and then, he saw them. Across from him was a huge red dragon, just like in his book of myths and legends. The wings were folded along its back and its tail was wrapped protectively around two smaller dragons asleep by its side. The long serpentine neck was raised, the massive head staring at the back of the cavern, directly at them. The thing must have been at least two hundred and fifty feet long, maybe more. Bryan was grateful the slope of the cavern overhead was such that there was no way that monster could reach them. Bryan fumbled with his pack and got out his eight millimeter movie camera. There probably wasn't enough light in the cavern, but he had to try. As quietly as he could, he moved around the rock and set his camera on a small ledge, aimed toward the dragons, and pushed the record button. The whirr of the motor was incredibly loud in the confined space, even as big as it seemed. The baby dragons’ heads popped up, staring at the source of the new noise. Suddenly, the little ones moved. They were so fast! In the blink of an eye, they were halfway across the cavern coming right at them! Mark yelled, “Get moving, boy!” as he swung his rifle up to his shoulder and fired a shot off at the one on the left. Bryan scrambled into the hole, his camera forgotten. He looked back when his father screamed. He watched as one little dragon tripped his father up with a stroke of his wing, the buffet of wind dislodging his camera and sending it falling to the floor. The left dragon snapped its head forward, catching his father's head, chest and arms in its mouth while the other snapped its jaws around the man's legs and hips. They tore his father in two in a shower of blood and viscera, and then they ate him. The County Sheriff found Bryan wandering down the road that evening, his eyes vacant and staring. The boy couldn't talk; he was totally withdrawn. A search of the county found Matt's truck up at Willow Creek but not a trace of the man was ever found. Bryan was taken to the hospital. There was nothing found to be physically wrong with him, but the staff psychiatrist believed the boy had obviously seen something so terrible, he'd withdrawn from reality. Over the next eight years, Bryan was treated in a state-run institution, and that experience reinforced his father's admonitions about governments. The indifference of the doctors and nurses, the brutality of the orderlies, especially the big black one who had sodomized the mute little boy every week for two years. While he had regained the power of speech, he had never told anyone what had happened to his father or what had been done to him in that hellhole of a hospital. He instinctively knew if he told them that he'd seen his father torn apart and eaten by dragons, he would have spent the rest of his life in a straightjacket. When he turned eighteen, Bryan was released from the institution and moved into a vocational rehabilitation program and halfway house. He exhibited a flair for working with film. When released from that program, he moved to Los Angeles where he worked a variety of jobs in the movie industry, finally landing a position as an assistant film editor with one of the smaller independent studios. However, his deep hatred of non-white races got him into trouble once too often, and he was fired. He'd drifted for years among the disenchanted right wing. His hatred for the government in any form and his loathing for anyone with dark skin made him a natural recruit for the white supremacist movement. He never explained the roots of his hatreds; no one really cared anyway. It was enough that

he hated. It was here he learned about making bombs and met the three men who he began to trust: Richard Kessler, Marvin Ledbetter and Oscar Pruitt. One night, over a great many beers, he'd told them about his father. He told them about the night in the Maryland mountains and the betrayal of the people of Earth by the U.S. Government and then, finally, he told them about how his father had died. To their credit, none of them had laughed in his face but it was clear they hadn't believed him, either. In 1996, now aged forty, he finally conquered his own fears and went back to Willow Creek. He'd had to stop several times as he crawled through that connecting tunnel toward the cavern. The hardest thing he'd ever done was continuing on through the opening and standing up in the place of his father's death. When his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he spotted his old camera lying on the ground, pointing slightly upward since it was resting on a small rock. Bryan reached down and picked it up, tucking it into his daypack. Slowly moving around the rock, Bryan expected at any moment to be confronted by the dragons. The cavern was empty. Finally, deciding there was little risk, Bryan switched on his flashlight. The beam faintly illuminated the far reaches of the cave; the dragons were gone. He played the beam all around, at last seeing his father's rifle. He picked it up, automatically working the bolt to clear the chamber. Taking one last look around, Bryan then turned and left the cavern forever. When he reached his home, he took the camera into the darkroom in the basement. Very carefully, he removed the old film and began the delicate process of developing it. The dry air in the cavern had kept the film from oxidizing, but Bryan had no real hopes of recovering anything. He'd tried to fudge the processing a bit in hopes of countering the low lighting. Once the processing was finished, he'd fed the end into the film drier and then went upstairs to the kitchen and drank a beer. When he finished it, he threw the can into the trash, and went back downstairs. He carefully wound the film onto a small reel, and then threaded it into the film-editing viewer he'd bought when he'd gone into the porno business. There was good money to be made cutting underground films, along with the occasional perk from the aspiring ‘actresses'. Turning the viewer on, he perched on a stool, and slowly advanced the film. At first, all he could make out was a dark shape in the background and then there were a few seconds of the small dragons coming out of the darkness. The scene went crazy as the camera was knocked from the ledge but by sheer happenstance, it had fallen aimed directly at his father. Bryan watched as his father fired his rifle, again and again. Suddenly, his father fell to the ground, the rifle flying off to the left, and then it happened. The dragons’ heads came into view and closed over his father. He was lifted into the air, torn in half, and swallowed. The camera had caught it all. Bryan contacted his three friends and invited them over for beers. It took a while to get them all to agree to come, but finally they had all arrived. After they had reminisced about the glory days of the movement, he reminded them of the story he'd told them about the dragons. “I know you didn't believe me, and why should you buy something that fantastic on just my word? If you remember, I told you I had taken my camera along that day. Well, I went back and recovered that camera. I want you to see for yourselves." He ran the film on an older super eight millimeter projector he'd found in a thrift store, projecting it on the big portable screen he had previously set up in his den. They made not a sound, although Ledbetter had jumped when the dragons came out of the darkness. When his father was torn apart, Pruitt muttered “Holy Mother of God,” and crossed himself. When the film ended and the lights came back on, Bryan only asked, “Now do you believe?" It had taken Bryan another five years to figure out how the dragons had hidden in plain sight. He'd figured the monsters had to have places near the mountains, so he started researching the ownership of isolated places in the mountains across the United States. He used a search tool given to him by a hacker friend to look for common ownership. There were many places owned by groups of people, but

then he found it. One common thread among over one hundred such sites, a company called AEthereal, Limited. Even using his friend the hacker, Bryan hadn't been able to find out anything about the company itself. When his friend was suddenly arrested for hacking by the government, Bryan Bartlett went underground. He contacted Richard Kessler, who arranged for a new identity. Together, they met up with the other two men to decide what to do next. "I have a list of a hundred places they live. I think we should take the war to them; make them realize that not all humans are just going to roll over and become their food." And so it was that the four men began to plan their war against the dragons. It was Richard Kessler who thought about using the shaped charges to focus the explosions, figuring that perhaps a strong enough blast, when the dragons were in human form, might just do the trick. Since Bryan was afraid the government was looking for him, he stayed behind. Before his three partners left, he handed them a box of printed cards with the phrase “Humanity First” and Da Vinci's Vitruvian drawing. News of the bombings filled television for three straight weeks. The plan was to take out three places, hole up for a couple days, and then take out three more. It wasn't until the news broadcast about the failed FBI raid on the cabin in the Ozarks that Bryan knew he was once again alone. As he watched the news reports, he heard the reporters name the agents in charge of the investigation, Special Agents Eric Johansson and Judy Deavers. Although information regarding active agents was carefully protected, it wasn't too hard for Bartlett to discover their home addresses. He figured Deavers wouldn't be in Spokane, so he staked out the FBI headquarters in Washington. After several days of patiently waiting, he spotted them driving away from the headquarters parking garage. He followed them very carefully, using every trick he knew to avoid discovery. He knew he was on the right track when they drove into the hidden garage on a piece of property on his list of possible sites. Once again, the damned government was siding with the monsters over its citizens.

Chapter 9 The sniper had been in place for hours, long before the false dawn had brightened the sky. His eyes watched the hidden garage door. Sooner or later, that door would open and his quarry would be in the open. His choice of location gave him a clear shot as they approached a sharp turn around the mountain with the road having only a narrow shoulder before the guardrail and the steep drop beyond. Just as the sun truly began to rise over the ridge, the garage door began to open and the large SUV backed out with Agent Johansson driving and Agent Deavers in the passenger seat. He waited. The Yukon turned around in front of the dilapidated cabin and then drove slowly down the overgrown access road. Good camouflage. I never would have suspected anything was there. As the car approached the turn, he lowered his head to the ten times Bushnell scope. He had long ago chambered the special explosive round into the Remington rifle, now resting on its perch of sandbags, perfectly aligned for the shot. His father's lessons had been well learned. He assessed the vehicle's forward motion, and then tightened his finger as the bumper entered his scope. The left front tire seemed to explode, throwing the vehicle out of control. There was no chance to recover as the heavy SUV crashed through the slim guardrail and over the edge of the drop. As he listened to the crash of metal and breaking of glass echoing from out of sight, Bartlett smiled. He carefully broke the rifle down and packed it away in its special case. After making sure to brush away any traces of his presence on the ridge, he carefully made his way down the back of it to where his truck was hidden. He stowed the rifle case in the hidden compartment between his truck cab and the pickup bed, and then drove slowly westward. **** The heavy federal vehicle fell over the brink, dropping thirty feet and rolling before crashing though the heavy pine trees. The initial impact was along the roofline above their heads, crushing the roof inward and exploding the windshield in a shower of small pellets of glass. The vehicle spun on the axis of a tree, slamming its rear end into an outcrop of rock that punched through the doors like a ram, and caused the SUV to flip over. Impacting on its front bumper, the mangled wreck toppled over onto the driver's side and slid farther down the mountain. It went over the edge, dropping vertically another twenty feet into a hollow. The Kevlar inside the body panels and heavy reinforced roll cage had kept the passenger compartment's integrity mostly intact; the collapse of the roof along the windshield its sole breech. The front and side air bags had deployed at the moment of first impact and, when combined with the inertia-locked seatbelts, had prevented the crash from being immediately fatal to the agents. The forward momentum, imparted by the flip over the rock onto the Yukon's front, had thrown them against the air bags. Unfortunately, behind the air bags was nothing but shattered glass and twisted metal. The air bags were torn, deflating and losing their protective characteristics; when the next impact slammed their heads against the underside of the crushed roof, they lost consciousness. The drop onto the driver's side wrenched the passenger seat loose in its slide tracks, the weakest part of the structure. When the vehicle slid over the lip and fell down into the hollow, the seat finally tore free. The heavy seat and its unconscious occupant twisted around the center console, causing the back of the seat to aim downward, smashing Johansson against the door. Stillness. The passage of the vehicle had frightened the indigenous wildlife and the quiet of the forest was only disturbed by the hiss of the hot fluids leaking from the punctured radiator. Unlike a Hollywood staged crash, there was little danger of fire; the heavily reinforced fuel tank was intact, the

steel protective plates had withstood the impacts with small trees, shrubs and rocks. There was just the hiss of escaping steam and the steady drip of blood. **** Astra came out of her room, refreshed by her long sleep. She could tell neither of the humans was within the underground facility. Humans, even when engaged in intense concentration, are noisy creatures. Since she had spent time with the two, she had become attuned to their presence. Her keen awareness of Earth told her it was night, a few hours past sunset. She'd been much more tired than she'd thought. Of course, it had been weeks since she'd last slept. Astra walked through the garage, past the gym, and along the underground lake. She finally came to a very narrow passage. She traced the convoluted turnings and finally emerged outside under the stars. Astra loved the night. She let her senses expand, her eyes closed, as she searched for any intrusions. Someone had been on this ridge that very morning. She could almost taste the acrid scent of one of their weapons, the combination of gun oil and the residue from firing. She concentrated even more and found something more disturbing: the smell of blood. Astra sent her astral image winging through the air, searching. She found the smashed guardrail first, and then saw the trail of destruction down the mountainside. She extended her astral projection down along the trail of devastation, finding at last the crumpled remains of the federal vehicle. Astra concentrated, forming a portal to the site, and stepped through the shimmering blue light. She knelt by the crushed front of the car and sent her senses inside. There. The faint beat of a heart and, yes, there was the second heart beat. They were alive but very weak. They needed help, help she could not give them. Astra concentrated on the image of the only other human she had dealings with at this time and place, that of the President. She found him sitting in his residence, sipping a drink and watching a sporting event on television. She called up a portal and stepped through. "Astra!” The President shot to his feet. "They need your help. They are hurt, weak, perhaps dying. They have gone off the side of a mountain near the place where I met with the man Eisenhower." "Who has? Who needs help?” the President asked, confused. Was it another of her kind? "Johansson. Deavers. The ones who aid us now need our help." The President keyed his emergency signal, a small device he carried in his pocket. Secret Service agents raced into the room, guns drawn; shocked to see the President was no longer alone but reassured that everything else seemed normal. “Mr. President,” the senior agent asked, “Is everything all right?” He returned his weapon to its holster. "No, everything is not all right. I have been informed that something has happened to Agents Johansson and Deavers somewhere in the mountains near Camp David. I want a rescue team dispatched at once. They must be found and saved." "Yes, sir. I'll see to it personally.” He gestured to the other agents to withdraw, nodded to the strange woman standing in the room, and then closed the door behind him as he exited. Then he spun, knocked on the door, and opened it as the President said, “Come!" The woman was gone. In less than a minute, she had vanished into thin air. “Sir, I must ask you how that woman came to be here and how she left without passing through any of the checkpoints."

The President smiled and shook his head. “Son, you can ask but you'd never believe the answer. Now quit wasting time. Those people are hurt and need our help." **** Using the GPS locators imbedded in the cellular telephones that had been given to the agents, the location of the crash was easy to find. A rescue team, ready for crash extraction and medical emergencies, was dispatched from Camp David, the closest facility. The team reached the torn guardrail in less than ten minutes, the high performance engines in their military humvees making short work of the twisting mountain roads. Quickly lashing their ropes to anchor points on the vehicles, the team rappelled down the mountain to the crash site. The team leader surveyed the vehicle and the crash site, his flashlight playing over the wreckage. Hard to believe anyone was still alive in there. The heavy reinforced roll cage and Kevlar body panels, so crucial to the survival of the people inside, now worked against them. The twisted frame had jammed the passenger side doors shut. The steel roll cage prevented the successful use of the hydraulic loppers normally used to shear the doorposts to ‘peel’ the roof. Reaching the rear of the vehicle, he found the crushed left door was no longer meeting the body frame. This would have to be their access point. Steel pry bars were forced into the bent spaces between the doors. Muscles bulged, sweat poured from the men straining on the bars. With a tremendous groan, the door inched open. More effort, more strain, and another inch gained. Finally, the door was forced open enough for the female paramedic to squeeze inside. She wormed her way forward, her flashlight revealing the first patient. She was suspended upside down, her hair sodden with blood. Obviously, the passenger seat had broken loose. The blood appeared to be coming from a two inch laceration just above the hairline. Facial swelling from an obviously broken nose and perhaps, cheekbone fractures. The patient was still breathing; pulse was weak but steady. Very carefully, the medic fitted the cervical collar around the patient's neck. Once the collar was secured, a Kellogg Extraction Device, or KED, was slowly worked behind the patient's body and fitted to her, securing the spine from the top of the head down to the hips. A quick assessment of the limbs indicated a possible fractured left forearm. It was time to move her so they could reach the other patient. "I need some help in here! She's ready to move." Another member of the team moved into the back of the vehicle. Lying on his back, he kicked his legs against the remaining rear door until it sprang open. He then guided a Stokes litter inside, positioning the metal basket stretcher to receive the first patient. While the paramedic braced the KED, the man cut the restraining seat belt and then helped ease the unconscious form onto the litter. Carefully strapped in place, Judy Deavers was then removed through the back of the Yukon. The litter was then tied to ropes and eased up the side of the mountain, guided by the sure hands of the mountain rescue team. Reaching the top, the litter was placed into a waiting ambulance and rushed to Camp David for examination by the Navy staff doctors. Now with the first patient out of the way, the passenger seat was removed so the paramedic could see the second one. He was in bad shape. His pupils weren't equal and slow to react to light. His breathing was very labored, with a slight bubbling sound on the right indicating a possible punctured lung. His pulse was extremely weak and thready. The medic couldn't tell whether all the blood covering him was his own or from patient one. The damn driver's seat was in her way of assessing the patient's condition, as was the steering column. She pointed out the problems to the rescue team leader when he stuck his head in the back. The team leader went back around to the front of the wreck and passed a length of chain in through the opening formed by the shattered windshield and crushed roof. The medic wrapped the chain around the

steering column and passed the end back through the opening. The end was then attached to the hydraulic device commonly called ‘the jaws of life'. As the jaws slowly closed, the slack was taken up and the steering column began to bend toward the front of the vehicle. Meanwhile, the rescue member in the back began to attack the driver's seat with his combat knife, slashing through the fabric and padding to reveal the seat's interior metal structure. The hydraulic loppers made short work of the struts, allowing the seat to be pulled out of the way and removed. Now the medic moved up to her patient. Once again, a cervical collar and KED were used to secure the neck and spine. It was obvious both his arms were broken since they were now bent in directions and places nature had never intended. She carefully positioned them against the KED, knowing the doctors would reduce the fractures later. Moving her skilled hand down over the patient's legs, she paused when she came to the exposed bone. Damn, compound fracture. She secured a sterile, damp dressing over the open wound; she couldn't even immobilize the fracture until he was out of the twisted position he was in. She warned the rescue team members to watch the legs and arms as they moved him. She knew there were probable internal injuries as well. The quicker they got the patient out of the vehicle and into a hospital, the better his chances of survival. A Stokes litter was positioned and they slowly moved the patient onto it. Damn, he was tall! He filled the litter and they had to waste a few moments of precious time to reposition the straps on it. While they did that, the medic splinted the fractured leg to prevent further damage. Then a quick word in the leader's radio, and the winch on the lead humvee began to turn, lifting the litter up the mountain. The medic ascended beside the litter, her teammates bringing her gear along. After the second patient was placed into another ambulance, the medic hopped inside, and they raced into the night. As the ambulance reached Camp David, the doctors directed them toward the helipad. Marine One, the President's helicopter, was already warmed up, the first patient aboard, and waiting for the arrival of the second ambulance. The litter was taken aboard, the medic alongside to brief the doctors there on her initial assessments of the patients. The helicopter lifted off seconds after the door was closed. The flight to Bethesda National Naval Medical Center, located outside Washington in Bethesda, Maryland, took less than fifteen minutes. Emergency trauma teams stood next to the helipad, waiting for Marine One to touch down. As soon as the weight of the helicopter settled on its wheels, the teams surged forward. Patient one, the female passenger, was taken to the emergency room for treatment; patient two, the male driver, was rushed directly into surgery to repair the punctured lungs and any other internal injuries. **** Judy Deavers became aware of sound first, a murmuring babble of sound that made no sense. As she tried to focus on it, she felt pain. It wasn't a sharp pain, but a kind of faraway ache, almost like she could feel the soreness of someone else. The sounds began to resolve themselves into discreet noises now. There was some kind of steady beeping that came from somewhere on her right. There was someone whispering down near her feet. That made no sense at all. After all, she and Eric had just left Astra's house and ... wait. The tire blew and we went through the guardrail, crashing through trees and things. The air bag had collapsed and she'd hit her face. Unconsciously, Judy's hand tried to move up to her face but she couldn't move it. Something was holding her hand down. Panic started to well within her as she tried to move either arm and neither would obey. A frightened moan escaped her lips. There was something in her throat! God, she was choking!

"Easy, easy now. Listen to the sound of my voice.” Judy focused on the calm voice. The nurse introduced herself and then said, “You have a tube down your throat to help you breathe. Now that you're awake, we can remove it.” Judy felt pieces of adhesive surgical tape being removed from her face. “Now, on the count of three, I want you to breathe out very hard while I pull out the tube. Ready? One, two, three!" Judy exhaled as hard as she could as she felt the tube being pulled out. God, what a terrible sensation. That first deep breath made her realize she couldn't breathe through her nose at all. She also couldn't see. Had she been ... blinded? “My eyes? I can't see!” Her voice was a soft croak, her throat sore from the intubation tube. "Easy now! Your eyes are swollen shut because you really smashed your nose. Once the swelling goes down a bit, hopefully by tomorrow afternoon, the facial reconstruction surgeon is coming in to have a look at you. Then she'll be able to give you a brand new nose. She's also going to have to do some work on your cheekbones since they were hammered pretty hard in the crash. You also have a bunch of really bad bruises over most of your body and a hairline fracture in your left arm. You even cut your scalp and that took seventy-two stitches, but most of those were subdural.” She paused. “That's below the skin, honey.” The nurse bustled around, taking Judy's vital signs and checking equipment as she spoke. “The doctors here are really very good and you won't have any noticeable scars from all this. Do you remember what happened?" With pain lancing through her face from her broken cheekbones and the sore throat from the breathing tube, Judy found it very difficult to speak. “Left front tire blew just as we approached a sharp turn. Road went left, we went straight and down the mountainside. What about Eric? Is he okay?" "I don't know but I'll try to find out. I just came on duty and was assigned here with you. I'm not sure who you are, honey, but you've got some powerful friends! There's a Secret Service agent outside your door and you're in one of the VIP suites at Bethesda." "Bethesda?" "The National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland. The same hospital the President uses. Say, seems to me that I heard you were actually brought in on Marine One, the President's helicopter. Who are you?" Weakly, her head spinning, Judy said, “Just a federal agent. Could you find out about my partner, Eric Johansson? And could I have something for the pain? It's really starting to hurt." **** The door to Judy's room opened to admit the Director of the FBI. He placed a small, tasteful floral display on the shelf near her window, and then sat down and took her right hand. “How are you feeling, Agent Deavers?" "Better, sir.” She'd come through the facial reconstruction well and the doctors were confident there would be minimal scarring. Most of her face was still in bandages, and it was still tender and slightly swollen. The whole area around her eyes was black with bruising. She must look like a raccoon! Her left arm was in some kind of Velcro contraption to immobilize it for a couple weeks. "Okay, first the good news. Eric Johansson is alive. Now the bad news. He wasn't as lucky as you. He was hurt very badly in the crash. Fractured skull, six broken ribs, punctured lung, torn liver, two broken arms, each with multiple fractures, and compound fracture of the right leg. Immediate surgery repaired the internal injuries and his leg. He's still unconscious, though, and the doctors are growing concerned. Apparently, your seat tore loose in the crash and he was crushed between it and the door."

"Oh, my God. What do they say his chances are?” The small catch in her voice made the Director look hard at Judy's face. He was concerned she would blame herself for her partner's injuries. "Judy, I just don't know. The doctors say the longer the coma persists, the less favorable the outcome. I'll make sure you're notified of any change in his status and that, as soon as you're physically able, you'll be taken to see him. Maybe your voice will be able to reach him. Sometimes, a familiar voice helps. The doctors tell me that you'll be up and around in another day or so, and that you'll be able to leave the hospital within a week." "Now,” a more businesslike tone replacing the compassionate one of moments before, “we need to talk about the case. What do you remember about that morning?" "We'd just started driving toward Washington when the tire blew and we went over the edge. After that, everything's a blank until I woke up here." "Well, first off, it was no accident. That tire was hit by a high-powered rifle bullet with a fulminated mercury tip. We found traces of mercury on the tire and the engine block where it finally stopped. Someone took you out deliberately. We presume it has something to do with the case you're working on and the all points you requested on a Bryan Bartlett.” The Director looked angry as he spoke. “The White House has refused to answer any of my questions about this case. I'm to brief the President on your condition after I leave here. Maybe then he can tell me what's so damned important that someone tried to take out two of my people!" "Sir, I know the President's reasons behind this and I respect them. Trust me when I say you really don't want to know what this is all about. There are times when I wish I didn't." **** True to the doctors’ predictions, they started forcing Judy to get up and start moving around the very next morning. The facial surgeon had come in and removed her bandages. The swelling around her eyes and nose had begun to subside and, when she looked into a mirror, Judy realized she did indeed look like a raccoon. With the bandages off, and the collusion of her favorite nurse, Judy managed to take a shower for the first time since the accident. The nurse even carefully washed Judy's hair. There was a bald patch from where she'd had her stitches, but when her hair was brushed, that site was covered. Now wearing U.S. Navy hospital pajamas, Judy was being taken via wheelchair to see Eric. Nothing prepared her for the reality of what she saw. His large frame seemed somehow shrunken in the white hospital bed. His plaster-encased leg was suspended in traction. His arms were also encased in plaster. White gauze wrapped his head and his massive chest. A breathing tube was down his throat and a respirator was wheezing next to the cardiac monitor. The only reassuring thing was the steady green trace on that monitor's screen. What she could see of his skin showed it to be as pale as the bed linens. He was as still as death. She had the nurse wheel her close to the bed. She placed her right hand on his bare shoulder and leaned close to his ear. “Eric, it's Judy. What's all this malingering? I know you can hear me.” She looked at his still face. “I need you to hang in there. We still have a lot of work to do.” Tears began to stream down her face as she gently stroked his shoulder. “Lying here in the hospital this past week has been hell because I've been so worried about you." The nurse silently slipped from the room giving the woman in the chair some privacy. Judy Deavers spent an hour in the room with Eric, resting her hand on his shoulder and talking about what the future might hold for them both. When the nurse came to return her to her room, Judy cried all the way back.

What is wrong with me? I never lose control like this! Must be all the medication. Her tears didn't stop until she had fallen asleep much later. **** Midnight. The nurses had completed their rounds, checking on each of the patients under their charge. The Secret Service agent on the night shift was standing by the nurse's station, flirting with the night nurse, while keeping one eye on the door to Judy Deaver's room. The solid oak door was closed; the patient was asleep. A soft blue glow began to build in the corner of the room. Moments later, Astra stepped through the portal she'd opened and came to the young woman's bedside. Astra closed her eyes in concentration, tracking the energy flows through the agent's body. A disruption existed in her arm. Ah, a small crack in the bone was just starting to heal. Astra poured more energy into the site, suffusing it, and could feel the crack mend. Now Astra shifted her attention to the work the surgeons had done on the woman's face. Again, she poured energy into the wounds, accelerating a thousandfold the natural healing process. Astra let her senses explore the rest of the human female's body, easing away the strain of muscles, the deep bruising and stiffness. Astra then extended her senses to locate the man Johansson. She could sense his room wasn't dark, nor was it untenanted by medical personnel. She would have to attempt to assist him through astral form, not nearly as effective. Simple repairs of the bones took moments, the damaged lung tissue a while longer. Astra was quite stunned by the swelling around his brain. She concentrated very hard to shunt the excess fluids away, relieving the pressure. A small blood vessel wall was thinning, causing a swelling in the vessel itself. Left to itself, it would soon burst, ending this good man's life. She strengthened the tissue, cell by cell, until the aneurysm had vanished. Tired now, Astra let her projection fade. There was only so much she could do without actually being present and, unfortunately, there were some things she couldn't help at all. With one last look down at the sleeping woman, she opened a portal and left. **** "I don't care if you can't explain it. I'm fine. Look at me. There's no more than some bruises left on me anywhere. Your own x-rays confirm there's no crack in the bone in my arm. It must have been a flaw in the original x-ray. So get me some clothes and get out of my way.” Judy's voice could be heard down the hallway as far as the nurses’ station. The nursing staff chuckled; they wondered what that doctor's face looked like as he'd probably never had a patient talk to him that way before. The ding of the elevator drew their eyes toward the door. That Secret Service agent had sure been fidgety for the past few minutes, and when the doors opened, they understood why. Out strode the President of the United States, trailed by the Hospital Commander and several other Secret Service Agents. "Morning, ladies,” said the President as he walked past the assembled nurses. Judy's loud demands for her clothes came to an abrupt halt when the President walked into her room. "Mr. President, sir!” she gasped at her visitor. "She sure sounds well enough to me, Doctor.” The President grinned. Looking the agent over, he continued, “In fact, she looks fabulous. You'd never know she'd been in a car accident. You guys are good." "Mr. President,” the doctor stammered. “Sir, we didn't do this. We need to run some tests. There has to be some explanation for her overnight recovery."

"Give yourselves some credit, man,” the President boomed in his hearty campaign voice. “Now,” his tone softened to an almost conspiratorial whisper, “I need to talk to your patient on a matter of National Security. You understand." As the doctor continued to mumble about the need for further tests, the Secret Service agent showed him and the Hospital Commander from the room, closing the door firmly behind them and then standing in front of it. One glance at their implacable features and the doctor turned to the Admiral. "Sir, surely you see the need for these tests." Shaking his head, “Bill, give it up. This is one battle we can't win." Inside the room, the President handed her a bag. “My ever efficient secretary picked these out. No, I don't know how she knew the sizes. Some things even the President doesn't need to know.” He grinned at her, the famous smile that had dominated his campaign posters. “And you aren't alone in the miraculous recovery business. I've just left the bedside of Agent Johansson. Much to the bafflement of the medical staff, his broken arms are almost healed; there's only some light scarring from his surgeries of last week. He woke up about an hour ago and, when his breathing tube was removed, his first words were to ask about you. Once you've gotten dressed, we'll go see him together like I promised him." Judy Deavers practically ran into the adjoining bathroom, tore off the military pajamas, and then opened the bag. Bless the woman. Some sensible underwear in the correct sizes. How did she know that? Gray wool slacks with a pleated front, a Laura Ashley print blouse in a soft teal; even the shoes were a perfect fit. Even some makeup in exactly the right shades to compliment her skin tones. The woman was a marvel! In less than ten minutes, Agent Judy Deavers looked like a new woman. As she applied the last of her light makeup to cover the faint bruises, she looked carefully at her image in the mirror. Her face was subtly different, more refined. The small bump in her nose was gone; the prominence of her cheekbones reduced. Damn, that surgeon had been good! She was almost beautiful. Finally satisfied with her appearance and eager to see Eric, she opened the door. The President was amazed at her transformation. Gone was the hint of vulnerability that had cloaked her when clad in her issued pajamas. “You just need a couple more accessories for that outfit to be complete. David?" The door opened and the senior Secret Service agent stepped inside. He smiled at Judy, then handed her a small case. She opened it and found her service weapon, holster, and both her FBI and White House credentials. The case also contained those belonging to Eric Johansson. “We recovered these from the wreck." She automatically checked the chamber to insure it was clear, not noticing how tense the Secret Service agent had become. None of the Secret Service agents liked the sight of anyone bearing a weapon near their protectee. He didn't relax until she had stowed the weapon back in her holster and slipped it out of sight into the small of her back. She placed her credentials into the inner breast pocket of her blazer, looked at the two men, and said, “Can we see Agent Johansson now?" Judy was amazed at the difference a night had made in his condition. Like her, most of his visible bruising and swelling was gone. The doctors had already removed the casts from his arms and leg, replacing them with fabric and Velcro immobilizers such as the one she'd had. Unlike her, however, the doctors refused to let him out of bed. A few more days of observation were mandatory after such an extended period of coma, and even the President could not dissuade them. "Sir, I feel fine! Okay, a little weak but that's to be expected, isn't it? I mean, I haven't had any solid food in over a week."

"Your attitude is commendable, Agent Johansson, but consider it a Presidential Directive. You will stay in bed until released by competent medical authority.” He smiled at the exasperated expression on the man's face. “I brought you a visitor,” the President said as he stepped aside so Eric could see Judy. One look at the man's face was enough. The President turned, signaled to the doctors and his Secret Service protectors, and they all withdrew from the room, leaving the two alone. Judy looked at him, the happiness apparent in her face, but not in her tone as she said, “About time you woke up.” She walked over to the bed and sat perched on the edge. The sound of someone clearing his throat drew their attention back to the doorway. The President smiled at them, “Don't worry. I won't tell anyone you're sitting on his bed. I cannot tell you how relieved I am to find you both in such good health this morning. Frankly, Agent Johansson, the doctors had been fairly grim in their prognosis of your recovery. I suspect you may have received some outside help from a source we can't talk about here." He smiled at them both. “Okay, let's give the doctors a break. You, Agent Johansson, will let the doctors poke and prod you until your bones mend and they assure me you're fit for duty. You, Agent Deavers, need to get back to work. I suspect you have an idea of who was behind this attack. Find him. I expect to see you on Monday morning in the White House at ten a.m., sharp.” With yet another of his poster boy smiles, the President turned on his heel and left the room. The doctors came back in as soon as the President left. “Miss, you'll have to leave." Judy Deavers drew herself up to her full five foot nine inches. “No, I won't.” Patting her side, she said, “I have a badge, a gun, and several other agents assigned by the President to guard this man from any further attempts on his life. To that end, I will go wherever he goes until I'm satisfied with his security. Now, Doctor, does his condition warrant being in this fishbowl, or can we see about getting him into one of those private suites upstairs?" An hour later, freshly showered and dressed in clean pajamas, Eric Johansson sat in his now private hospital room desperately trying to stay awake. He still felt weak, but considering what they had described as his initial condition, it was a no-brainer trade-off. And with Judy sitting by his side, life just couldn't get any better was his last thought as he drifted off to sleep. **** Later that night, Astra again visited the hospital through astral projection. Seeing Judy awake, she opened a portal into the room. "He is much better?” Astra asked quietly. "Yes, we both are. Do we have you to thank for this miracle?” Judy's wave encompassed both Eric's and her own recovery. Astra smiled, and said, “It is a small thing. White AEthereals are empathic healers. In our natural forms, we cannot use tools, so we developed our minds. This included the ability to amplify the body's own natural healing ability, very important when rearing our young. Overstretched wing muscles are very common when they are learning to fly. I thought it might work on humans as well. I tried it first with you, working to help your body finish what it had already begun. Some things are easy. Your physicians had already fixed most of the injuries. I just helped it along. In the case of your partner, there was something the doctors had not found that took much energy to repair. There was a blood vessel in his brain that was readying to burst, which would have been fatal. I had to remake the vessel slowly to repair it. Now, I need to make sure all is well.” She stepped over to the sleeping man and extended her senses. Yes, the reconstruction had held true. She extended her senses to the injuries in his leg. As she feared, the damage to the nerves was beyond what she could heal in a short time. She

noticed his overall fatigue and infused some additional energy into the man's body to facilitate his own healing mechanisms full recovery. Perhaps allowing the rest to heal naturally would give him the chance to deal with the limitations he would face in the future. Stepping up to Judy, Astra said, “What is your status here? When can you leave?" "I can leave any time, I just don't know where to go.” She gestured at the bed, “He's going to be here a while longer." "It is simple. You will return to my home. We have much to discuss and plans to make.” Astra's firm voice brooked no objection. "Astra, it wasn't an accident. Someone shot out our tire to make us crash down that mountainside. They knew we were there. Going there again may not be such a good idea.” Judy reached out her hand, touching the AEthereal female. "I can bring you in the same way I got here, through a portal. No one will know we are there. I will wait for you outside. Then we will leave." Reluctantly, Judy woke Eric. “I have to go. Astra is waiting for me. I'll come back to check on you as soon as I can.” With a smile and a small wave, she slipped out the door and down the hall. **** Shortly after they arrived at Astra's home, Judy slipped off to her bed. Astra went outside under the early winter sky. Millions of stars twinkled overhead. As she extended her senses, Astra heard her brother's voice in urgent summons. Astra opened another portal and arrived at the Council chambers to find Ebon, Hecate and Grendal impatiently awaiting her. She quickly took her seat. Nodding to the others, she turned to her brother. “I have come to your summons, Ebon." "You have helped these humans, Astra. Why?” He glared at her. "They were injured in our service, Ebon. Are we to abandon those who desire to aid us?” Astra's eyes pleaded for his understanding. "Aid us? In what way have they aided us? Humans have been slow to fulfill their vow to stop testing atomic weapons. Even now, more and more of the human factions have gained mastery of the technology and the weapons spread. You appealed to them to stop these attacks on us, yet they continue. There have been more bombings. In the last one, one of the AEthereal was injured.” His voice, pitched low, made his words seem like physical blows. Astra gasped. “Who was hurt and how badly?" "It was one of the younger greens. He was in human form. At the onset of the injury, he merely collapsed the human form and reverted to his dragon shape in another plane of existence. You know we cannot be seriously hurt while in human form. That is not the point. The attacks have begun again,” Hecate snapped. "Brother's mate, I know the source of your anger, but nothing can replace a cracked shell. It is even more important that I have helped these two humans. They have identified the human behind these attacks and even now, they search for him. Once he is found, they will find his accomplices and the attacks will stop." "They had better. The Council has reached the end of its patience with these humans. Unless they can stop the attacks by the end of the winter season and before the return of the birthing pairs, then we will eliminate the threat they pose ourselves. Only the Whites hold out for restraint now. All the other colors have agreed to sweep the world clean once again,” Ebon threatened.

Astra sat back stunned. There was so little time left to save the humans. She had an idea. “Ebon, Hecate and Grendal, I want you to come to my house tomorrow evening. I want you to meet the one of humans who has entered our service and hear from her the status of their investigation. Perhaps if you meet her, you can learn to see beyond your hatred." The three looked at each other and, as one, nodded their heads in agreement. “We will come and meet with the human, but make no promises about the results."

Chapter 10 Astra was waiting for Judy when she entered the kitchen the next morning. “Good morning, Judy. Did you sleep well?" Judy smiled at the AEthereal. “Yes, I did. Thank you for asking. Would you like some coffee?" "No, I have never developed a taste for it.” A guilty smile played about her lips. “I will have, however, a cup of hot chocolate. It is my belief that chocolate may be your kind's finest creation." The two chatted as they prepared a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs. Judy wondered whether Astra found eating eggs uncomfortable and Astra explained their species had no problem with it. After all, in the early days, almost all life came from eggs. Mammals hadn't even existed. Sitting down to eat, Astra turned to Judy. “I was summoned by the Council last night. The attacks against us have resumed. In one attack, one of the AEthereal was slightly injured." "I didn't think you could be injured!” Judy sat her fork down and took a gulp from her mug, forgetting in her surprise that the coffee was still hot. After letting the human female regain her breath, Astra replied, “While in human form, we can be momentarily hurt. We merely dissolve the human form, returning to a natural state elsewhere. It stings a bit but the discomfort fades quickly. What does not fade is the sense of outrage, of violation." "I don't understand what you mean.” Taking a careful sip of her coffee, she waited for an answer. "Let me see if I can explain this in simple terms.” Astra paused, sipped her chocolate and licked her lips at the sweet flavor. “One cannot destroy mass. When we change shape, we take our excess mass and put it in another plane of existence. Since it is so much more massive than a human form, the bulk of our life force remains there. Our consciousness can shift between the forms in the blink of an eye. Should the human form become damaged, we merely return to our natural form and reabsorb the essence of the other. The brief moment of discomfort, what you feel as pain, is so transitory as to be just a mild sting to us.” She looked at the human. “I doubt if one of the AEthereal could have taken injuries such as the man Eric sustained without a great deal of complaining." "Trust me, Astra. Most men are big babies when they're hurt.” Seeing the confusion on the AEthereal's face, she continued. “They make a big fuss." A light dawned in Astra's eyes. “Ah, like a young dragon whines when they have stretched a muscle or landed improperly.” Astra's smile slowly faded. “The Council is losing patience, and has established a deadline to end these attacks. If we have not succeeded by the turning of the year, they will wipe out mankind.” She shook her head, “Only the Whites now stand for peace; the rest prepare for war." Judy's eyes widened and she sat bolt upright. “We must do something! That's just a few weeks away." "That is so, but it is not the only task before us.” Astra took a deep breath. “Tonight, three of the Council will come here to meet with you, to learn what you know about those who attack us. You must persuade them humans can be of help or they may move against you even sooner." "Whoa, no pressure there!” Judy stood up, taking her dishes over to the sink. “Could you clean up while I get started?” At Astra's nod of acceptance, Judy raced to the library. Grabbing her laptop from its storage bag, Judy was grateful neither of them had taken the portable computers with them that fateful morning. Establishing a secure connection with the FBI's main computers and passing through the triple authentication procedures, she quickly downloaded everything the FBI had on the recent bombings.

There had been a change in technique. The new bombs didn't use Semtex. Now, it was plain, oldfashioned dynamite. Therefore, the bombings weren't as neat with widely scattered debris fields. Obviously, Bartlett's second-string team wasn't as talented. Since their method had changed and there had been no cards left at the site, no one had linked the bombings to their case. She coded them with the related code designation to link them to her case. Her case. Well, it was hers now with Eric laid up in the hospital. She guessed there was no way to slip in there tonight with the other AEthereals coming to visit. Focus, Deavers, focus! Hmmm, one site misfired. Seems the perps used two detonators per bundle and both were duds. Bomb was recovered by local PD after a passerby had seen a strange pickup truck leaving the scene at high speed. The detonators traced to a shipment stolen in Missouri. She next researched what information had been gathered regarding Bryan Bartlett. Raised by his father after his mother was killed. Interesting, a footnote shows that further inquiry failed to reveal any recorded death certificate in the name of Jo Ellen Bartlett anywhere in the country. Could she have abandoned them and still be alive somewhere? Reports from neighbors indicating the father took the boy hunting and, by age ten, Bryan was a crack shot. The neighbors also commented that Bryan was never seen without his camera. She then read how he'd been found just outside Willow Creek, dazed and wandering. She intuited he must have seen his father somehow killed by a dragon and had been struck mute by the sheer horror. Eight years in a mental institution, a couple years in voc-rehab, and then a move to Los Angeles. Hmmm, film editing. Interesting choice of career. Could he somehow have film of the dragon attack? That could explain his ability to recruit people to help him. Fired from his job with the studio for racism. That fits the profile. Drifted back to Missouri. Name shows up on a couple Aryan Nation lists, but never as a player. Bet he was looking for helpers. Oh ho! Bingo. Bryan Bartlett's name came up as a result of a joint investigation with the British into the attempted hacking of data regarding AEthereal, Limited. This definitely was the guy. She sent an email to the Director recommending the bulletin for Bryan Bartlett be upgraded immediately to place him on the FBI's Most Wanted list. She suggested the charge be terrorism and hate crimes. Maximum publicity should be given this, as well as some kind of sizeable reward offered for information leading to his capture. Further rewards should be offered for information leading to the arrest of Bartlett's accomplices. Within minutes of sending her message, she received a reply from the Director. Consider it done. Judy then spent the next hour preparing a series of briefing slides, both for use with the Council members and for use with the President the next morning. She also dumped a copy of the new Most Wanted poster she'd downloaded from the central computer. Bless you, Director! As she finished up, she became aware of Astra standing in the doorway. Astra gestured at Judy's causal attire. “Perhaps you should consider changing into something more professional before the Council members arrive. While we may appear human, I assure you, my brother will not be impressed by your physical appearance. Once you meet his mate, you will understand." Judy looked at her sleeveless top and shorts and quickly agreed. She went back to her room, showered, and donned one of her better pant suits and a button-front oxford shirt. Quickly styling her hair to cover the small patch that was just now starting to regrow, she then applied a light foundation to hide the last of the fading bruises around her nose and eyes. She returned to the kitchen. “Astra, do the other Council members speak English as well as you do?" "Judy, we can speak all your languages. We are a telepathic species, after all, and we can speak to any human in their native language. To aid in our dealings with your species, we have all adopted a human sounding name to facilitate communication,” Astra added. "Then Astra isn't your real name?” Judy asked. “What is?"

"My real name could not be pronounced using a human throat and vocal apparatus. It is part whistle and part growl in frequencies beyond your range of hearing, and is combined with a telepathic signature that adds some subtle nuances. It would be the equivalent of around ninety syllables long in your speech. Fortunately, the telepathic speech we use for everyday communication between AEthereals permits the transmissions of emotion and sensory impressions, rather than just words. It is much faster to think about the feel of the wind or the sun on my wings or the presence of a herd of cattle than to describe them in words.” Astra turned to Judy, touching her arm. “Fear not, Judy. The Council members will understand your words.” As she entered the library with Judy, three distinct fields of blue began to form on the other side of the table. She thought Eric was tall, but these males were taller, each standing close to seven feet. Their heavy musculature made even the strongest human look puny. They exuded an animal magnetism far beyond anything Judy had ever experienced. The same was true of the female Council member. Next to her lush beauty, Judy felt positively prepubescent. For a brief moment, Judy was grateful Eric was not in the room. Ebon the Black was clearly the leader of the visiting Council members. His coal black hair and eyes, combined with the same shade of clothing he wore, made him the diametric opposite of Astra. He sat in the center seat opposite the screen. To his right sat the female, Hecate the Red. Topping six foot, with a voluptuous figure, flame-red hair, and scarlet attire that emphasized her lush curves, Hecate lounged in her chair, a disdainful smirk on her lush, full lips. To Ebon's left sat Grendal the Brown. Everything about him was a hue of brown, even his skin. And while he physically matched Ebon in stature and size, he didn't carry the sheer sense of menace and power that Ebon presented. Astra sat opposite Ebon, a gesture of support for the sole human present. Judy walked over to the podium. How had Astra known this would one day be needed? She cleared her throat and spoke. “Greetings, Council members. I welcome this opportunity to share with you the information we've gathered about the threat being made against the secret of your existence among us.” Ebon's implacable gaze never wavered. She keyed the first slide, a photograph of Mark Bartlett culled from military archives. “We believe the breach began with this man, a U.S. Army Sergeant present the night of Astra's demonstration for President Eisenhower at Camp David in 1959. We further believe his disappearance in 1966 resulted from an extremely close encounter with an AEthereal in the region known to us as Willow Creek in Missouri.” The second slide showed a map of the region mentioned. Grendal spoke up, his baritone resonating in the room, “There is a cavern used by one of the Reds. I believe she was in the final years of the confinement of her young during that period." Ebon just grunted in response and waved his hand to the human female to continue. "Whatever happened to him, I believe it was witnessed by his son. It has been theorized that somehow, the son has been able to obtain sufficient proof to convince others of the validity of his claims. I believe that proof is in the form of a visual recording of the AEthereal and possibly, even the death of his father.” The screen now displayed the last known photograph of Bryan Bartlett, taken from his Missouri driver's license. "The initial bombings were done by these three men.” The screen was split, showing photographs of the original three suspects. “Their bombing techniques involved the use of focused, shaped charges of a powerful plastique explosive. We had tracked them to a farm house in Missouri, but they were inexplicably killed."

Ebon chuckled, a truly evil sound. “I killed them. I traced them by scent from their third assault and then attracted them to the lower level, where I had opened a gate to my natural form. I flamed them, even as they fired their puny weapons at me. You humans die so easily.” The baleful look he turned in her direction sent a frisson of fear down Judy's spine. Straightening in unconscious defiance, Judy thought if Ebon had let them capture the first three, there wouldn't have been any additional bombings. Her next words were in a sharper tone as she said, “The new group placing bombs isn't as advanced as the initial three. Their methods are much less sophisticated. They're less discriminate in their delivery and are now using commonplace explosives. Details of the bomb that did not explode showed us the materials are coming from the same region in Missouri. "We have also found indications Bryan Bartlett was involved in an attempt to penetrate the computer systems around your corporate front, AEthereal, Limited. A warrant for his immediate apprehension has been sent to all law enforcement agencies and a media campaign is underway to inform the public. Large rewards have been offered for information regarding the whereabouts of Bryan Bartlett and his accomplices." Hecate looked at Judy, “Tell me, human. Do you also believe this man Bartlett is responsible for the attempt on your own life?" "Yes, I do. He is a known marksman and skilled in the art of stalking his prey.” Again, the screen displayed the photograph of Bryan Bartlett. “I have complete confidence we can find this man and stop him before the deadline you have set, especially if we can work together." Astra spun back to look at Judy, a look of admiration on her face. She had given the AEthereal a challenge, making them equally responsible for the elimination of the threat. It was an astute maneuver. "And what would you have us do, human?” demanded Ebon, his manner still imperious, yet there seemed a slight hint of curiosity thrown into the mix now. "First of all, answer me this. When you don human form, do you always look the way you do now? Can you adopt an appearance that is less ... imposing?" She was startled by the virtually simultaneous shift that occurred in their appearance. It happened so quickly, she'd been unable to detect it being done. One second, she faced the three overpowering presences and the next, they were three exact copies of herself. Judy supposed it was meant as an insult to her, but she didn't care. It made her idea possible. She laughed, “I suppose that's much less imposing! Wonderful.” Turning to the map of the Missouri region she'd displayed before, she said, “What I would like to do is saturate this area with your people in the guise of humans. I believe Bryan Bartlett and his accomplices are hiding somewhere in this general region based on the origins of the explosives and the pattern of the recent attacks. At the same time, I'll direct the search using law enforcement agencies." Judy paused, looking at the Council members now back in the forms they'd arrived in. “What is important here is not really catching these people.” The AEthereal looked confused and angry. “What is truly important is finding and destroying any evidence Bryan Bartlett may have which proves your existence. Without that evidence, he becomes just another raving lunatic no one will take seriously." Ebon looked at her a long moment. “It will be as you say, human, but know this. Do not worry about what becomes of this man and his cohorts. We will handle their disposition. I make you responsible for finding this evidence you speak of and then turning it over to Astra.” Ebon then turned his baleful glare on Astra. “Very well, sister. We have come to see the human and have listened to what she has to say. We will agree to do as she has requested, both in astral mode and in human semblance. But the deadline

remains. This must be resolved by the turning of the year.” Before another word could be spoken, the three AEthereals faded away in a blue shimmer. Judy collapsed into one of the chairs. “Oh my God." Astra reached over and touched Judy on the arm. “You did well, my dear. It is not easy to surprise my brother, yet you just did. It was a very cunning maneuver to bring the AEthereal directly into the hunt. My brother is undoubtedly organizing the others even now and within an hour, there will be hundreds, if not thousands, scattered throughout that region.” She shook her head slightly. “There may be some unfortunate incidents from this. Such close exposure between your kind and mine often leads to violence. The Blacks are not known for either their patience, or their tolerance. It is inevitable some humans will die as a result of this night." Judy's hand went to her mouth, a stricken look on her now pale face. “What have I done?" "You have done what was needed. The death of a few is meaningless when compared to the continuity of your species.” Astra stood. “Now for a happier thought. Would you like to go see your mate?" Judy stared at her. “My what? Eric is my partner, not my mate!” she argued. "As you say,” Astra said and laughed inwardly as she watched the young woman race back to her room to change clothes once again. She knew Judy had resigned herself to not being able to see Eric today. Judy emerged moments later, wearing the same basic outfit, but with a slightly less professional blouse. The scent of gun oil also indicated she had retrieved her weapon and probably her credentials, as well. Astra extended her astral sight to Eric's hospital room. He looked sad, flipping through a magazine, but he was alone. The door was closed and she could sense the other federal agent outside the doorway. “Ready?” she asked Judy, and then opened a portal and took Judy through. Once Judy was in the room, Astra whispered, “Be back in an hour,” and then vanished. Eric just stared at Judy for a moment in amazement. “I didn't expect to see you today." "Me, neither. It's been a very busy day.” She pulled a chair over next to the bed, pulled off her blazer and draped it over the back, then sat down. As she filled him on her research and the meeting with the Council, he just watched her. Her animated expressions indicated the energy she derived from her work. He had to admit that her suppositions were sound. He was amazed by her audacity at challenging the Council to help, especially in light of her description of the other AEthereals. And yet the whole time he listened to her, a part of his mind drifted to the possibilities once he was free of this hospital. His wandering mind finally caught up to what she was saying. "...And so I hit him with the laser pointer." "Who? What?" Judy started to laugh. “I could tell you weren't paying attention, so I just started making stuff up to see when you'd react. And before you say anything else, you should know that I am aware of what you were thinking about." "I doubt that very much,” Eric bluffed. “I was thinking..." "...About getting me in bed,” Judy finished his sentence. As his face turned red in embarrassment, she continued. “Well, Astra should be here soon and I have to meet with the President in the morning.” She put her blazer back on and moved the chair back to its original spot. Right on cue, Astra opened a portal and reached out her hand for Judy's. With a last wave, she was gone. ****

"That is where we stand at this moment, Mr. President. I'll be traveling to Missouri this afternoon to take charge of the search in that area. The Director has provided me with a team of twenty agents to assist the state and local agencies." "That was excellent, Agent Deavers. How is your partner doing?" "He's getting better, sir. The doctors expect to remove the immobilizers today and start him on some physical therapy. I suspect he'll push himself to return to duty quickly." "Probably afraid he'll miss out on the capture,” the President chuckled. “One more thing. You're the only person to have met any of the other AEthereals. What were your impressions of them?" Judy thought for a moment before she replied. “Sir, they are physically very intimidating. Their choice of human appearance is made with that objective in mind. You must bear in mind that while Astra is quite possibly the most physically perfect female you may have ever seen, she has chosen to tone down her presence. The others do not. They come across as physically larger and more commanding than she does, emphasizing their sense of superiority over us. While I have never seen one in their natural form, I have no doubt they would be formidable opponents in battle. From what I have learned about them, the only real weapons we have that could make an appreciable impact against them would be nuclear ones, and that would be just as devastating to us as the dragons themselves.” She paused for a moment. “I pray it never comes to that. That is why I will find this man and his evidence. He must be stopped and the Accord between us restored. The alternative is just too horrible to contemplate." The President took the agent's hand. “I know. I have nightmares about what might happen. I can see we picked the right people to handle this crisis.” He pulled her to her feet. “Thank you once again, Agent Deavers, on behalf of the nation. Keep me posted.” He escorted her to the door of the Oval Office. As she walked away, the President turned back to his desk and made a quick prayer for her success. **** As soon as her helicopter touched down, Judy Deavers jumped out and walked over to the waiting group of Federal agents. “Where have we set up the command post? I want to brief the team and get started." "We're right over here in the hanger, ma'am. It's the only place we could find that had enough space.” The agent led her to the hanger and the rest followed behind. Once inside the hanger, Judy was surprised to find the state and local agencies were already seated. As the Bureau agents found seats, Judy walked up to the podium, pausing to insert her memory stick into the USB port on the laptop. Calling up her first slide, she began. "Good afternoon. I'm Special Agent in Charge Judy Deavers. We are here today to find this man.” She advanced the presentation to the photograph of Bryan Bartlett. “He's wanted for seven acts of terrorism, hate crimes, and two counts of attempted murder of a federal agent. He's from this area and knows it very well. He has connections with various white supremacist organizations and may be hiding among them. His unknown accomplices are also thought to be from among those organizations and are also probably hiding in this area." She went to the next slide, a map of the area. “Effective immediately, I want all traffic in and out of this region stopped. That means manned roadblocks on every road, highway, street, lane, path and goat track. These roadblocks are to stop and search every vehicle, regardless of passengers." "What about probable cause?” came a voice from the back of the hanger. "Anything you turn up in these searches will be considered as fruit of the poisonous tree and will not be admissible in court. I don't care if you find a trunk full of drugs, it won't be admissible. That doesn't

mean you can't confiscate anything illegal you find. The goal here is to find this man and his accomplices before they can bomb another building and perhaps kill some innocent people." "How long do we keep this up?” came the question from the county sheriff in the first row. “I can't afford a lot of overtime in my department for this." Judy smiled down at him, silently thanking him for the perfect opening. “Yes, you can in this case. The same is true for the state units. We have a special federal fund that will be used to defray the costs of this operation. That means there's no limit on the overtime or any other resource we need to catch the subjects." "Excuse me, Agent Deavers, but this seems to be overkill for what amounts to crimes involving property damage alone." "I'm sure Agent Johansson would disagree with that statement, but he's still lying in a hospital bed. It has been rumored the suspect is pursuing chemical or possibly biological weapons and, for that reason, the government has decided to be proactive in his capture." She looked around the room. “If there are no further questions, I would like to meet with the heads of each group now to plan who is going to do what. Meanwhile, the rest of you can get with Agent Darrow in the back to collect copies of the wanted poster. Remember, all of you, these men are considered armed and dangerous. They have already demonstrated a complete disregard for life by bombing privately owned homes across the country and shooting at federal officers. The use of deadly force is authorized when you feel your life, or that of anyone else, is in danger." She stepped away from the podium and over to a large regional map stretched out on one of the tables. “Okay, state. I want your teams to interdict traffic on the major roads, especially here, here and here,” she said as she marked locations on the map. “County, you'll have to take all the smaller roads and lanes but since most of you live around here, you'll know those roads better than any of the rest of us. Finally, municipal officers. You know your locals, so you can identify who might be involved. Check them out.” She took a deep breath. “I'll be making a very public television and radio broadcast on all stations in this area regarding these suspects. The Federal agents will be going house-to-house, townto-town, in an obvious search. I expect we'll have local media coverage of that, as well. The goal is to spook them, make them nervous, and maybe, make them run. If they run, then they will run to you, gentlemen. Unless there are any questions, please brief your men and let's get this show started." As the group dispersed to brief their respective units, Judy Deavers caught the eye of Agent Darrow. Darrow trotted over to her. “Yes, ma'am?" "I need to get to the local television station. Do you know the way?” At his nod, she said, “Let's go." **** Billy Brubaker was sitting at the bar nursing a cold beer, when the baseball game he'd been watching was interrupted by a special news bulletin. “This is Mike Marlowe, Channel 5 News, with a special report. Federal, state, and local law enforcement began an intensive manhunt today in the tri-county area for a federal fugitive. With me today in the studio is Special Agent in Charge Judy Deavers, head of the special task force.” The camera panned to an attractive woman. “Agent Deavers, what can you tell our viewers about the case?" "Mike, first let me impress upon your viewers that the law enforcement agencies are approaching this with their safety in mind. We are searching for this man.” The TV screen was now filled with the Most Wanted poster for Bryan Bartlett. “Bryan Bartlett is wanted for seven acts of terrorism, hate crimes, and two counts of attempted murder of a federal agent. He is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. Do not attempt to apprehend this man. Contact the task force with any information

regarding him or his accomplices. There is a substantial reward for information.” A toll-free number was displayed across the TV screen. “Again, let me caution you. This man is considered extremely dangerous. Contact the task force or your local authorities if you have any information regarding this man or his accomplices." Brubaker slipped from his stool and made a quick telephone call from the bar's pay phone. “It's me, Billy. Listen, turn on the TV. Oh, you saw it? What are we gonna do? Okay, I'm on my way,” As he hung up the phone, Billy saw two men approaching he'd never seen before. He turned and walked down the hallway toward the restrooms, then slipped out the side door of the bar into the parking lot. Before he could reach his truck, the two men confronted him. “What you looking at? I got no time for you. Let me by,” Billy blustered. One man's hand grabbed Billy's arm and the three disappeared in a shimmer of blue light. Billy was screaming as the light faded away. He was now somewhere else, dark and underground. His captors had changed. Now they both stood at least seven feet tall, massively muscled. “You will tell us where Bryan Bartlett is hiding,” whispered the one holding him in a voice as cold as death. "Bartlett? I don't know any Bartlett!” Billy cried out. "You lie!” hissed the other one, leaning into his face. “You will tell us. The only question is how much pain you will endure before you do." "I'm telling you. I don't know him!” Billy whined in fear now, his legs trembling. Suddenly, the man in front of him began to glow with a blue light, which expanded to a huge size. When the light faded, Billy was suddenly facing a huge black dragon, its wings furled along its back. The head loomed close to Billy as the voice behind him said, “Tell us." Billy was so terrified now, he couldn't speak. He'd never believed the movie when he saw it and those things in it were so much smaller than this monster in front of him. He could swear he saw a small smile curl the lip of the black dragon just before a small intense jet of flame came from its mouth. The flame danced across Billy's right leg, setting it afire. He'd never felt such pain. He screamed again and again as the cold voice demanded an answer. Billy screamed, “I don't know!” and the dragon breathed again on the other leg. The agony increased. Billy didn't think this much pain was possible. "Who did you call?” came the voice in the dark. "I called my friend. We was helping Bartlett, but I never knew him, honest.” His hands frantically beat at the flames trying to put them out as they burned higher up his legs. "Where is your friend?” the cold voice demanded to know. "In a cabin up in the hills!” Billy's words were almost incoherent now. The being behind him let him go, and Billy fell toward the ground. Before he could touch it, however, the large black head snapped forward, its gapping maw closed around him, and consumed Billy whole. "The next one is mine!" **** Jesse Teasdale ran out of the cabin as Billy's truck drove up. “What took you so long, man? We gotta get outta here!” He swung open the truck door and stopped cold. “Who the hell are you?" The huge stranger inside the truck turned cold and deadly eyes upon him. “Where is Bryan Bartlett?"

Jesse turned to run but stood stunned at the apparition before him. A huge brown dragon glared balefully down at him. The sudden warmth on his legs told Jesse he had just pissed his pants in fear, but he didn't care. He knew he was looking at Death. The dragon's head loomed over him. "Speak, human, and it will be quick. Lie to us, and you will suffer more pain than you can imagine,” spoke the voice from within the truck. "He ... he ... he left. Soon as he saw the broadcast, he called me and took off. I don't know where he went. Please, you got to believe me. That's all I know." As the dragon's mouth closed around him, Jesse heard the man in the truck say “We believe you." **** Dan Mayfield was carefully driving the speed limit. He was also vigilantly avoiding any main roads. He felt sure he could slip unnoticed out of the county. When he reached the turnoff for the forest trail, he doused his lights, shifted the truck into four-wheel drive, and started to carefully pick his way along the trail using only the moonlight as a guide. It was nerve-wracking and made worse by the beers he'd had before the call from Bartlett. Shit, the Feds were here after us all. The good news was they didn't know his name. The bad news is those two morons, Billy and Jesse, would give him up in a hot second. As he rounded the bend in the trail, he knew he was coming to a very difficult part. The way was very narrow as it passed an outcropping of rock. Unfortunately, the other edge of the trail at that point was a hundred yard drop into an abandoned quarry. Dropping to his lowest gear, Dan began to edge around the rock. Blocking his way was a state trooper in an SUV. The sudden appearance of the vehicle, combined with the blaze of light when the trooper activated his spotlights, startled Dan so much, he swerved, ramming his truck into the outcrop of rock. Thank God he hadn't jerked the wheel the other way, otherwise he'd have gone off the edge. The six crates of dynamite and blasting caps in the back would not have taken that well. "Step out of the vehicle with your hands in the air!” shouted the amplified voice of the trooper. Dan thought about the gun in his waistband and knew he just didn't have the guts. He slid out the passenger side door with his hands raised high. “Don't shoot! There's a gun in my waistband but I'm not gonna touch it!” A figure moved up to him, kicking his feet out from under him and knocking him to the ground. Before he could even think to react, he was slammed face first into the dirt trail, breaking his nose on a rock. His right hand was grabbed and forced behind his back and he felt the cold steel of handcuffs as they closed about his wrist. His left hand was bent down and cuffed as well. He was then rolled over and the gun was removed from his waistband. He could see another trooper standing just beyond the headlights, aiming an M-16 automatic rifle at Dan's head. "You have the right to remain silent..." **** The capture of one of the accomplices with a truckload of dynamite and blasting caps made the news, highlighting the failure to capture the central fugitive, Bryan Bartlett. The state troopers were hailed as heroes for their role. Subsequent interrogation of the suspect revealed the names of the two others involved in the bombings, although no trace of them could be found. Their abandoned pickup truck, with its keys still in the ignition, prompted a lot of speculation, but nothing of any substance. Judy knew no one would ever find those two. Her meeting late the previous night with Astra had provided her with the knowledge that those two would never bother anyone ever again. Judy was frustrated by the escape of Bartlett and she knew in her heart that the continued manhunt in this area

would be fruitless and a waste of both time and money. She knew when it was time to cut her losses and so, in an interview with the local media, she announced the end of the search. The Bureau, she said, would pursue leads as they came in. The toll-free number would remain active and the reward for information still stood. What she did not discuss was the other information she'd gleaned from her interview with the suspect. After assuring that her discussion with his client wouldn't be used in a court of law in any manner, Judy had finally convinced the man's lawyer to leave them alone. She finally had to invoke a claim of national security to get the man to leave. "Mr. Mayfield, I want to talk to you about Bryan Bartlett.” She watched his eyes as she'd said the name. Mayfield, shackled to the chair in the interrogation room, had been waiting for someone to ask him about Bartlett. Based on Bartlett's claim of a conspiracy within the government to cover up the existence of the so-called dragons he claimed killed his father, Mayfield knew that sooner or later, someone would want to ask him about it. “What do you want to know? And more importantly, what's in it for me if I talk to you?" Looking steadily at his eyes, Judy answered, “What's in it for you is you get to live out the rest of your life in a federal penitentiary rather than face the death penalty for terrorism.” She looked carefully at him as she added, “Or get turned over to them." The color drained out of Mayfield's face. It must be true, then. The dragons do exist. **** "I want to know what Bryan Bartlett told you and how he convinced you he spoke the truth.” At last, I may get confirmation of my suppositions. Mayfield took a deep breath. “It sounded crazy when he talked about it. I mean, who still believes in dragons? He had this really old movie of what he said were the dragons killing his father and eating him. The film was really poor but you could see something that looked like it could be a pair of dragons tear apart a man and then devour the pieces. Anyway, he claimed the government was involved in covering the dragons up and making deals with them.” Looking at the female agent sitting across from him, he added, “I guess that part was true after all." "If he had this film evidence of the existence of the creatures, why didn't he go public with it?” That question had been haunting Judy Deavers ever since she had postulated the existence of the film. "He tried to, but nobody believed him. Even the National Enquirer thought he was wacko. I guess that's why he decided to start blowing up their places ... to make the outside world aware of their existence somehow. If he could actually kill or hurt one of them in the process, then that would be payback for his father, you know?” Mayfield looked down at the table. “That part bothered me some. I didn't want to hurt anybody. I was basically just providing the explosives and Bartlett would send Billy and Jesse out to do the deed. Those boys are just plain stupid and mean. They didn't believe Bartlett about the dragons. They just wanted to blow shit up." At the look on her face, he added, “Just wait till you catch them. They'll tell you I had nothing to do with the actual bombings. I just got the stuff for Bartlett." "Mr. Mayfield, no one will ever talk with Billy or Jesse again. No one will ever find them. Law enforcement personnel were not the only ones looking for you. Unfortunately for those two, the others found them first." The color drained out of Mayfield's face, bleaching away his outdoor tan and making him look jaundiced and ill. “You mean the dragons got them?"

At her slow nod, he began to shake, “Please, lady, for the love of God. Don't give me to the dragons. I don't want to die like that." "Here's the deal, Mayfield. It's only valid until I walk out that door. You will plead guilty to the theft of the dynamite and blasting caps. You will plead guilty to conspiracy to commit terrorism. In return, you will spend the next twenty-five years in a federal prison, where you will be monitored. If you ever so much as breathe a word about the reasons behind all this, then you will have an accident, a bad accident probably involving fire.” Seeing the fear in his eyes, she added, “The same kind of accident would befall anyone you told and anyone they told. So unless you want all their deaths on your conscience, you had better keep your mouth shut. The only other option is for you to die now. There will be no public trial." She sat there a moment, letting her words sink in. “So what's it to be, Mayfield? Prison and silence, or a quick death now?" Quietly, his voice shaking with fear, Mayfield whispered, “I'll keep quiet. What do I sign?" "Before we get to that, I have one last question.” She leaned forward. “Where do you think Bartlett will go next?" Mayfield looked away for a moment, trying to remember anything Bartlett might have said that might give him a clue how to answer her question. Finally, he looked at her. “I don't know where he'd go, but there is one thing he said. When he said you were all here looking for us, he was really angry at you in particular. I think he might come after you personally." **** Once back in Washington after turning Mayfield over to federal authorities for imprisonment, Judy Deavers called the White House to schedule an appointment to brief the President the following morning. That completed, she drove over to Bethesda. When she approached the door to Eric's room, she noticed there was no longer an agent standing outside. Then she realized the room was empty. Rushing back to the nurses’ station, she flipped open her credentials and asked the head nurse where Agent Eric Johansson was. "He's in physical therapy right now,” was the reply she was given. Upon asking for directions, she was told it was on the first floor of the hospital in a different wing. Pointing to the blue stripe on the floor, the nurse said, “Just follow that blue stripe." Exiting the elevator, Judy noticed the blue stripe amid the myriad of them along the floor. Each color stripe denoted a different location within the hospital, such as X-ray, the lab, and the cafeteria. Blue, it seemed, led to the Physical Therapy clinic. The use of these marks made sense to her as she wound her way through the labyrinth of hallways and walkways between buildings. It was efficient and a patient was less likely to get lost. Finally, she reached a door that was labeled “Physical Therapy” and pushed it open. The agent assigned to the day shift to protect Eric Johansson immediately confronted her. He recognized her and let her pass. There, in the center of a huge room filled with various pieces of exercise equipment, stood Eric. Clad in hospital pajamas and a robe, he was trying to walk using a cane. It wasn't going well; his foot just didn't seem to be working right. She could see his frustration in the set of his shoulders as he struggled to take a few steps. She turned to the agent for an explanation. He looked down at the floor as he said quietly, “There was some major damage to the nerves in his leg when he broke it so badly. He has no feeling from about midcalf down. As a result, he can't feel or direct his foot to walk properly. The doctors are talking about

trying a brace to lock his foot into a more normal position for walking and standing. Even with the brace, he'll always need a cane." Judy knew what that meant; Eric would never again be allowed in the field as an FBI agent. He would spend the rest of his career behind a desk, probably in Washington. He would hate it. Quickly wiping the tears that had gathered in her eyes before Eric could see them, she moved forward to stand beside him. "You weren't dashing enough? You had to start using a cane to look even more debonair?" When he suddenly turned at the sound of her voice, he started to fall. She grabbed him and, before Eric's weight could drag them both down, the agent by the door rushed to his other side. Between them, they managed to get Eric stabilized. The nurse promptly pushed a wheelchair over and they guided Eric into the chair. "When did you get back?” Eric asked gruffly, embarrassed she had witnessed a moment of weakness. She smiled. “A few minutes ago. Tell you what. It's a beautiful day outside. Why don't we take a stroll around the grounds and I'll tell you all about it.” Glancing at the PT nurse, she asked, “That okay with you?” When the nurse agreed they had done enough for the day, Judy promptly wheeled Eric out the door. Passing the federal agent, she told him to take a break and they would meet him upstairs in a while. She wheeled Eric outside and into the park-like grounds of the hospital. It was one of those rare days in Maryland. The sky was a crystal blue, and the late afternoon temperatures had reached a balmy seventy degrees. Everyone knew it would be the last warm day before the onslaught of winter. A major snowstorm was on its way, already dumping snow in the Appalachians. She parked his wheelchair alongside a bench and then sat down next to him. Taking Eric's hand, she said, “I heard about the nerve damage. You have to know it makes no difference to me. You're still my partner. We will get through this together." Eric's anger exploded. “Together? In what way are we together? You came out of the accident even prettier than you went in, while I end up a fucking cripple! Jesus Christ, Judy, I'm done here. I can't be a federal agent like this! Once the Bureau processes the freaking paperwork, I will be retired and you know it. Then what in the hell am I supposed to do? This is all I know how to do!" Judy shot to her feet. “Just a goddamn minute, Eric Johansson. Where do you get off talking to me that way? I know you're angry because your life has been changed by this. Your problem is you've always based your life on your body. First in the SEALs and now in the Bureau, but it wasn't your muscles that got you where you are today, it was your brains. Use them! Yes, you won't spend much time in the field but you've already risen past that level in the Bureau. Plus, stupid, it's not like they can fire either one of us now. We know too much and Astra trusts us.” As her anger dissipated, she sat back down. “Look, you need to get past this. Let the doctors fit you for the leg brace. Learn to use it so you can get out of here and back with me, on this case where you belong.” She smiled at him, and then got serious again. “Eric, I know there'll be a period of adjustment but we both know Astra's place has all the equipment you need for any physical therapy. Plus, you'll have me as your nurse." Eric finally looked up into her eyes. He had never doubted her acceptance but he had been feeling cheated by fate since he knew his career in the Bureau had been derailed. Her words made him realize that, while such a disability might sideline an ordinary agent, those rules might not necessarily apply to him. For the first time since learning of his impairment, he felt a measure of hope. “When did you get so smart? Okay, it's a deal. I'll tell the doctors I'll accept the brace. Now, tell me about Missouri."

For the next half hour, she briefed him on the manhunt. “In addition to catching Mayfield, the road blocks and car searches nabbed four illegal aliens, six hundred pounds of marijuana, one moonshine runner, and solved a parental kidnapping case from Alabama. In each of those cases, the state police manning the roadblock stated it was a seatbelt check as part of their ‘Click It or Ticket’ campaign and the fools in the cars panicked and tried to run. That gave the police probable cause, so the actual vehicle searches became legal." He leaned back in the wheelchair, a frown on his face. “I don't like the way Bartlett has vanished again, especially if Mayfield is right and he's coming after you." She reached over and took his hand once more, “That's another reason why I want you out of here, so you can cover my back." His thumb traced a small circle on her hand as he said, “Just your back?” Her blush was all the answer he needed. “Okay, Judy, wheel me back inside so I can harass the doctors about the brace. The sooner I can get it, the sooner I'll be able to get out of here." **** As soon as he saw the news broadcast about the manhunt, Bryan Bartlett knew he had very little time to get out. Fortunately, he had already formulated a plan for just such a contingency. He grabbed the backpack he'd already prepared with items needed for survival in the mountains. He opened his dresser, removed the special weatherproof case containing the film, and put it into his backpack. He strapped his heavy winter coat to the pack next. Looking around the cabin one last time, he spotted the prepaid cellular telephone on the table, one of three they'd bought to communicate with each other. He quickly dialed Dan Mayfield's cell phone and told him to get out of town as quickly as he could. Next, he called Jesse and told him the same thing. Bartlett doubted whether any of them could safely elude capture by the intense police effort, and their capture would lead the authorities straight to him. That out of the way, Bartlett walked out of the cabin and started up into the foothills. After an hour, he was well into the mountains. Since he had hunted in this area, he knew the terrain well and made good time through the forests and glens. About sundown, he started to look for a site to spend the night. A sheltered spot soon appeared and he stretched a hammock between two trees before digging a shallow pit in which he built a small fire. As he heated up some rations from his pack, he thought about what to do next. It was obvious the Feds weren't going to let up in their search for him. He knew who the lead investigator was, thanks to that news broadcast announcing the search. How the devil did that stupid bitch survive that crash? There had been no mention of the other agent, that giant blond guy; perhaps he hadn't survived. Okay, he decided, time to take this battle to them. She wouldn't be so lucky the next time. There's no way to get them in Washington, but he suspected they would still be hanging out at that abandoned place in the Maryland mountains. If that was a dragon home, then there would probably be some way inside that mountain. All he had to do was get there, find the hidden entrance, and then hunt them down. Some rough calculations in his head told him it was about a thousand miles. Taking it careful, Bartlett figured he could be there about mid-December. Before then, though, maybe he should make the attacks more personal for the damn dragons. Maybe shooting a few in public would wake up the world. First, he should find his son and pass on the legacy, just in case.

Chapter 11 The doctors were impressed by the speed in which Eric Johansson mastered the brace and cane necessary to walk. Within a very brief three weeks, he'd completely adapted to them and made them seem a natural part of his being. His almost overnight shift through the anger phase into acceptance had been attributed to a heated conversation the agent had with his partner one afternoon. In a classified summary for the Director of the FBI, they concluded by saying there were no reasons to impose any limitations on Agent Johansson's return to duty. While he would never again run a mile, he could still bench-press more than any of the doctors or most other people. He remained the most remarkably fit patient most of them had ever treated. Between the doctors’ report and the pressure from the White House, the Director knew he could never have retired Johansson, even if he wanted to do so. Not that he did; Johansson was a marvel at domestic counterterrorism and partnered with Deavers, they were almost unstoppable. He put a smile on his face as he pushed open the door to Johansson's room. "Vacation's over, Johansson. The doctors want you out of here.” The Director walked in, not at all surprised to see Agent Deavers already there. Nor did the fact Johansson was already dressed in a tailored suit, which masked all but the matte black metal struts anchored to his shoe, surprise the Director either. A rather stylish cane with an alabaster federal eagle head completed the agent's new look, a gift from the President no less. “All set, I see. Agent Deavers, have you returned his credentials?" "Yes, sir. I did so this morning when we knew he was being released today,” Judy responded. "Sir, what's the Bureau's position regarding my condition?” Eric asked. "As of this moment, you are on medical leave for the next six weeks based on the doctor's orders. Not that I expect that to mean much to you, since I suspect you and your partner here will be hard at work trying to catch Bartlett. I do expect you to follow the doctor's instructions regarding the physical therapy, however. Other than that, Agent Johansson, you're still an active agent on special assignment for the President of the United States.” The Director knew Johansson had been afraid of being retired and the Director was pretending the possibility had never existed. “Well, let's get out of here. By the way, I hope she brought you a coat. There's already six inches of snow on the ground." Eric charmed the nursing staff as they left the room to the extent he avoided the obligatory ride in the wheel chair. The Director himself signed for the medical bills, telling the hospital's finance department to send the formal statements to the Bureau for payment. As they reached the exit, the Director paused before getting in his car. “You have both done exemplary work. I know you have secure quarters to work from, although I don't know where they are. I look forward to reading your reports as you wrap all this up.” Shaking their hands in turn, he then ducked into the car and his driver accelerated away as soon as the door closed. Eric slipped his free arm through Judy's, welcoming the additional support as they stood there enjoying the snowfall. He was free, he thought, and Judy had been right about how the Bureau would react. Face it, Eric, she's smarter than you are. **** Judy watched his face as he stood there, letting the snow fall about them. Finally, she tugged his arm to get his attention and then led him to a replacement Yukon. “At first, I balked at another Yukon, but then I realized just how much we owe our lives to the protection one of these monsters provided us. To be honest, I feel safer in one of these than I do a standard Ford Taurus.” She opened the passenger door and held his cane as he positioned himself in the seat. Once situated, he took the cane from her and she

closed the door. She quickly went around the vehicle, climbed into the driver's seat, and started the engine. While waiting for the engine to warm up, she commented on the cane. "I was sitting in my room last night when the President himself walked in. He said he could only stay a minute as he was leaving for the G8 Summit, but he wanted me to have this. He handed me the cane and told me it had been among the Presidential memorabilia for a while. He said he believed it was given to John Kennedy by the British Prime Minister back in 1962 but was never used.” Stroking the cane, he said, “Just the thought that might be true makes this even more special to me." Judy backed the SUV out of the slot and then drove down the long sweeping drive of the hospital and out onto the main highway. Turning north, they headed for the freeway and Astra's home. They discussed the case insofar as they wondered where Bartlett had gone when he disappeared from Missouri almost a month before. His hideout in Missouri had been located, ironically, not five miles from the Willow Creek location where he'd been found wandering as a young boy. While trace evidence proved he had been in the cabin, it did not provide any clues as to where he had gone. There was an abandoned truck, which implied Bartlett had either been picked up by an as yet unidentified accomplice, or he had just walked out. Eric tended to support the accomplice approach, while Judy believed the man had simply walked away, probably up into the mountains. Judy triggered the small signaling device and the hidden garage door slid open. She pulled the Yukon all the way into the garage and closed the door once again. As hard as the snow was coming down, the vehicle's tracks would soon be covered. She hopped out of the SUV and hurried around to the passenger side but Eric had already gotten out of the vehicle. "Judy, you have to let me do things for myself. Lighten up a little bit, okay?" She smiled at his fierce independence, knowing that was exactly what she wanted to see. “Okay, if that's what you want. Not a problem. Once you carry your bag to your room, I expect to see you in the gym for your first PT session. You can follow that with a swim in the lake. That lake is a nice seventyeight degrees today and will feel wonderful after some time on the Bowflex®.” With that, Judy walked through the connecting door into the subterranean house. **** Eric was slowly swimming laps in the lake after doing a strenuous routine on the exercise equipment. While he loved the strength machines, he was beginning to despise the treadmill and exercise bike. Now swimming is the best of both worlds; it relaxes at the same time it strengthens the muscles. A splash from the far end of the lake announced the presence of another swimmer. Within moments, he could see her knifing through the water in smooth, steady strokes. As she drew closer, he realized two things. The swimmer was Astra and she was not wearing a swimsuit. She pulled up alongside Eric and began treading water, only her head and shoulders above the waterline. “Is the lake not wonderful today? Especially since outside, it is still snowing. I love the dichotomy. I come in from the snow and then swim to warm back up." Another splash heralded the arrival of Judy. Mercifully, she was wearing a relatively modest tank suit. “Thought I would make sure you hadn't drowned in here." Astra announced that dinner would be in an hour and then she swam away, momentarily exposing her shapely derriere to an embarrassed Eric. Judy's slap to the back of his head pushed his face into the water. “You could at least pretend not to look at her. I forgot to warn you that Astra sees no point in swimsuits." They swam back to the shore and sat on their towels. “I've spent quite a bit of time with Astra during the last three weeks. The first time I came upon her swimming, I was really surprised to learn her

human persona is anatomically accurate. She explained that it was actually easier to just do a complete body than risk accidentally exposing herself as a counterfeit. While she understands the human need for clothing when in public, she will not accept the need when swimming. I suppose since it's her home, we'll just have to make the best of it." Eric grinned, “I think I can tough it out.” At Judy's glare, he moved the conversation back to safer ground. “So what else did you learn about her?" "She's spent a lot of time among us, mostly in the guise of more normal appearing humans. Between her astral wanderings and actual interactions, she really knows a lot about us. I really have come to like her, Eric. I find myself forgetting she's not human.” Judy stared back at the lake. “We have time for one more swim before dinner. You up to it?” At his nod, she rose and waded out into the water, then dove under the surface. As Eric followed her, he thought it was too bad Judy didn't adopt Astra's policy about swimming nude. He'd really enjoy seeing that.

Chapter 12 Once again, Bartlett donned the persona of The Sniper. He'd staked out one of the addresses on his list of dragons’ holdings. He'd spotted one extremely imposing figure, a large man with black hair and an extremely massive build, exiting one of the office buildings and had followed him to an attorney's office. Quickly looking around for the best position, he'd spotted a nearby building which provided a clear vantage point of the door to the office. Once on the roof overlooking the entrance, he opened the gun case and removed the rifle. He carefully chambered another hollow-point cartridge he'd filled with fulminated mercury to add a little kick on the receiving end, then set the rifle out of sight. He waited, staying out of view from other people, but watching the doorway. Twice, he'd almost snapped the rifle into position when the door had opened, but it had only been a group of women exiting. Finally, his quarry walked out onto the sidewalk. Bartlett centered the crosshairs on the back of the man's head and slowly squeezed the trigger. As the sound of the shot echoed off the buildings, he could see the man's head explode in a shower of bone, brain and blood. He went down like a marionette with its strings cut. As panic reigned in the street below, Bartlett quickly packed the rifle back into the aluminum gun case and picked up the expended casing for later reuse and to deny any evidence to the local law enforcement. He slipped down the stairwell and exited through the rear basement entrance. He walked six blocks away from the scene before catching a passing taxicab. He took the cab another few miles, then got out at a city bus stop. A few minutes later, he boarded a crosstown bus. Finally, in his motel room miles away, he watched the news coverage of the shooting. According to the local anchorman, a Mr. Black, managing director for the British firm AEthereal, Limited, had been shot by an unknown assailant using a rifle. He had been pronounced dead on the scene. A further mystery developed when the deceased's body had vanished from the morgue before an autopsy could be performed. Bartlett chuckled as he heard that. No doubt, either the dragons had removed the body or the government had. No one wanted that autopsy done! **** Two weeks later, Bartlett was stunned to see the same man or his twin exit the AEthereal offices in another city. Once again, Bartlett settled the scope on the man's head. Just as he pulled the trigger, he could have sworn the target's eyes locked on his own as if his quarry had sensed him. Their eyes were still locked when the hollow-point bullet smashed into the bridge of the target's nose and blew his head apart. Once again, the news reports covered both the assassination and subsequent disappearance of the body. Now, there was rampant speculation linking the previous bombings of the company's holdings to the serial shootings of the company's senior managers. The FBI was taking jurisdiction over the case and the news coverage shifted to an interview with the lead investigators, Special Agents Judy Deavers and Eric Johansson. Suddenly, the screen was filled with the wanted poster for Bartlett himself. Damn, time to move. Bartlett eased out of the motel as silent as a wraith. He slipped into the woods behind the motel just as police vehicles pulled into the parking lot. The local SWAT team hit the door to his room, complete with flash-bang grenades and automatic weapons. While they performed their futile search, he vanished into the forest. ****

"Ebon is furious,” Astra said as she came into the dining room. “That is twice he has been shot down in public. He has had to remain connected to the human form until it was left alone long enough for him to dissolve it and the connection." "Wouldn't that be painful for him?” Eric asked, sitting his coffee cup down on the table. "Extremely. Although the connection is tenuous to provide the link to keep the form intact, enough sensation still passes through for him to feel the trauma.” Astra shook her head. “I fear what he will do now. He has brought close to a thousand of his Blacks to Earth, ostensibly to hunt for Bartlett but possibly to begin his campaign to wipe out mankind." "Astra, you must gain control of him. The resources of every law enforcement agency on the East Coast have been mobilized. Bartlett's picture is being broadcast on every television station in the nation. He's the most hunted man in the history of our country!” Judy pleaded. “We will catch him. We understand Ebon's outrage, but we beseech you all to remember your agreement to give us the time to stop Bartlett ourselves. Anything else might expose your secret to the world and that would mean devastation for both species." "I will try, Judy. But know this. Time is running out. I will ask the Council to limit the use of Earth to just the deep caverns, plus the four principle Council members. I will further ask that the Council themselves refrain from traveling among you in human form." **** Bartlett was approaching yet another one of the addresses when his senses seemed to tingle. Something was off. He stayed in the shadows of an alleyway and carefully studied the area to see what had alerted him. He almost overlooked the homeless man hunkered down on the sidewalk less than twenty feet away until he caught a flash from the corner of his eye. There in his ear was a tiny button earpiece for a sophisticated radio system. The area was a trap. Bartlett quickly and silently moved back down the alley and away from the building. He took two cabs and a bus until he reached the train station. He took the next train toward West Virginia; his only luggage was the rifle case and his backpack. As the train reached the outskirts of Wheeling, Bartlett gathered his belongings and moved to the rear door of the train car. When the train slowed upon entering the railway station, Bartlett jumped off and ran into the night. As he'd ridden the train, he had been reviewing the police trap in his mind. He had realized one other fact he'd seen, but not recognized at the time. The AEthereal offices themselves had been dark and untenanted. His quarry had gone further undercover, but then that's what made hunting so exciting. Time to change targets again. Now was the time to hunt the hunters. Now was the time to set his rifle sights on Deavers and Johansson, and this time, they would not survive. **** It was a very subdued Astra that returned from the Council meeting. “They have reluctantly agreed." "There's something else, isn't there?” Judy asked. "If you fail ... if you do not eliminate this man Bartlett, then it is not just mankind that will suffer. I, too, will die in the flames of the Blacks.” Astra had tears running down her face. “He was so angry! It was the only thing I could offer to make them agree to honor their word.” Taking Judy's hand in hers, Astra continued. “Do not fret so, child. For without mankind, without you and Eric, I would not want to go on living anyway.” The two females hugged while Eric looked helplessly on. ****

The long awaited call came in the day after Thanksgiving. Bryan Bartlett had finally been spotted at a rest stop in West Virginia. Judy and Eric jumped into their government Yukon and sped across northern Virginia to the location provided in the bulletin. Arriving on scene, they met with the state police who had the rest stop cordoned off and were maintaining surveillance over the building in which Bartlett was holding at least three people hostage. Apparently, he'd refused to speak with their negotiator, saying he'd only talk with ‘that Fed bitch Deavers'. Judy walked over to the phone and was connected to the payphone in the lobby of the rest stop building. Bartlett snarled “What now?” into the phone. "This is Agent Deavers from the FBI.” She kept her voice steady and calm. "About time you got here, bitch!” Bartlett's voice was not calm. He was both impatient and excited. "You must know your position is untenable, Mr. Bartlett. You're surrounded on all sides and there's no possibility for you to escape. Holding hostages won't help you.” She kept her tone steady and reasonable, trying to diffuse his anger. "Don't try coming in here!” Bartlett's voice rose in timbre. “I'll start shooting the hostages!" "What is it you want, Mr. Bartlett? How can we reach a reasonable solution to this situation?” Steady and reasonable. Don't give in to his anger and fear. "I doubt you would do want I want, bitch.” His voice now was lower, angrier. “All you feds know how to do is lie anyway." "You'll never know unless you tell me what you want." "I want you to go on TV and admit everything about the dragons, that's what I want. I know the truth and I have proof, but our illustrious government has made sure no one will ever publish anything about them things. I want you to confirm what I have is true." "You know that's never going to happen, Mr. Bartlett. Especially not when you're holding a gun on innocent people. It's over. Put the gun down and come outside away from the hostages." Slowly, minute by minute, Judy worked the same theme into their conversation, always in a reasonable, calm tone of voice. Spotters confirmed that the hostages, a park maintenance employee and a pair of elderly tourists, were kneeling in the center of the facility in plain view through the access doors on both sides of the building. Suddenly, the spotters radioed that the suspect had grabbed the old woman by her hair and had pulled her to her feet. He was forcing her toward the door, using her as a shield in an attempt to get to the couple's car in the parking lot. His large backpack made a shot from behind problematic; no one could guarantee dropping him with a single shot, or even being sure they could disable him at all. Judy dropped the phone she was using and exited the other park building. Running to position herself between Bartlett and the car, Judy was grateful Eric couldn't keep up with her. She knew he wasn't going to be happy about this at all! Her feet shoulder width apart, her weapon in standard two-hand grip aimed at Bartlett, she said, “Hold it right there. Give it up, Bartlett. There's nowhere to go." For a split second, she thought he was going to give up but then he got a crazed look in his eyes. She could see his finger begin to tighten on the trigger, his pistol jammed against the head of the elderly woman. Without really thinking about it, she fired twice. Her first shot slammed into Bartlett's shoulder, mangling the acromion clavicular joint and jerking the shoulder backward, causing the gun to swing away from the woman. Her second shot hit Bartlett low in the forehead, just above his right eye, exploding the back of his head while hydrostatic shock caused

his eyes to bulge forward in their sockets. Judy rushed forward, catching the frail elderly woman before Bartlett's weight could drive her to the ground. As if her rush forward brought the world back to life, there was suddenly sound and movement all around. Paramedics rushed forward to take the sobbing woman from Judy's arms while others rushed inside the building to check on the woman's husband and the maintenance man. Bartlett's body had been stripped of the backpack while the state police insured he was no longer a threat. Eric had quietly retrieved the pack and was looking through it. He looked up at Judy and shook his head. The film wasn't there.

Chapter 13 The meeting with the AEthereals had gone as well as could be expected. With the death of Bryan Bartlett, the immediate threat of exposure of their existence had been eliminated. Astra had summoned the Council representatives to discuss the threat and the impending interdiction against humanity. They had arrived in their usual fashion; a blaze of blue light revealing their overpowering physical presence. Judy had been right about Eric's reaction to Hecate. Her sheer excessive femininity and sexual allure flustered the man and he spent most of the meeting trying to ignore her completely. She took it as a game, becoming ever more blatant in her display of her charms in an effort to get a reaction. Eric had done his best but he was, after all, just a man. What Judy had not expected was the results of the meeting between Eric and Ebon. They had postured and strutted like barnyard roosters or two stray tom cats for the first part of the gathering, but then had settled into some kind of mutual acceptance. They recognized in one another common traits and attitudes. Perhaps it was the fact Eric was not intimidated by either Ebon or Grendal which opened the door, but by the end of the meeting, Ebon's outspoken animosity for humanity had been muted. Ebon had opened the meeting with a snarled, “Greetings, sister. Time is almost up." Eric had stepped right into Ebon's face. “So you must be Ebon the Black. You've done more to drag this out through your ‘cook-'em or eat-'em’ approach than words can say. We could've stopped this a long time ago if you had just let us take care of it. Now, despite that interference, we have eliminated the threat. So why don't you just sit down, shut up, and listen for a change?" Ebon dropped into a chair, missing the smile on Grendal's face. No one had ever talked that way to Ebon before and Grendal was enjoying Ebon's nonplused reaction. Hecate had, of course, decided to preen for another alpha male in a desire to stir up trouble, something she delighted in doing. To her disgust, neither male paid her any attention. Judy explained the recent events and that the FBI had very publicly closed the books on Humanity First. Ebon spoke to Judy. “I want to thank you for shooting Bartlett in the head. I hope it was as painful for him as what I suffered at his hands." Judy blanched. The much-publicized killing of Bryan Bartlett had been ruled as a justified shooting because of the imminent threat to the hostage. She could still see the man's head explode as the bullet took him. She refused to contemplate what it must have been like for Ebon to experience it firsthand, not only once, but twice. To change the subject, Judy asked something that had been bothering her. “When we were investigating the second series of bombings, we found no trace of any tunnels." Grendal spoke up. “We had collapsed all the tunnels after the first three bombings showed that revealing the caverns was their ultimate goal. We are, in fact, divesting ourselves of most properties in the United States. That was what Ebon was doing in those cities, selling our properties. We will maintain an even lower profile than before." Judy seized the moment. “Can we agree that the present threat of exposure has been eliminated? Especially if your holdings are being reduced?" Hecate nodded her head, tossing her fiery mane about in yet another unsuccessful effort to grab the attention of the alpha males. Grendal also nodded when Judy's gaze shifted to him. Ebon, however, was not completely satisfied. “Very well, the immediate threat appears to have been dealt with. I remain concerned about the potential for future exposure represented by the missing visual

records, the existence of which you, yourself, confirmed. If your agency has closed the investigation, who will find and destroy those records?" Before Judy could speak, Eric's voice cut through like a knife. “We will. We will not stop until the film is placed in your hands. On that, you have my word. While the official FBI investigation has been closed, that announcement was more for public consumption than an actual decision affecting what we do." Ebon locked eyes with Eric. Moments went by before a small smile actually touched the AEthereal's lips. “You know, human, I am beginning to like you. Your spirit is much like my own.” Ebon nodded his head toward Judy as he spoke. “You are well matched with your life bond." Eric's expression was priceless, but before he could say anything, Ebon stood up. “This is acceptable to us. You two shall remain in service to us for the purpose of finding the evidence. Come, Hecate, stop flirting with him in front of his life bond. Grendal, old friend, we have things to do. Sister, I bid you good night, but I caution you as well. Your fate is now forever linked with that of mankind.” And without another word, the three departed in a shower of blue light. "Life bond? Eric turned to Judy in confusion. Judy shrugged. "The two of you are life bonds.” Astra broke in before Judy could speak. “It is plain to those with sight. But now is not the time to dwell on that, for it will develop as fate allows. What we need to do now is make your vow a reality. We must speak with your President." "Excuse me? What for?” Judy asked. "First of all, we must set his mind at ease regarding the interdiction. The Council has lifted that." "They have?” asked Eric. “Did I miss something?" "My brother's acceptance of your service made that clear. He likes you. He respects you because you stood up to him.” Astra looked at the man. “That seemed almost reckless." Eric looked sheepish. “I figured the room was too small for him to become a dragon and I didn't think he could flame me while he's in human form." "That is true, but he is capable of snapping your spine like a twig while in that form." The color drained out of Eric's face and he slumped into a chair. Judy handed him a glass of water. "For what it's worth,” Judy whispered, “I was impressed, too. I thought you were brave. A dead man, but brave.” As Eric choked on his water, she opened up her special cell phone and hit the speed dial for the White House switchboard. “This is Agent Deavers. I'd like to speak to the President, please.” After a few moments, her call was routed through the White House network. "Mr. President, Astra has asked to meet with you.” She listened for a minute. “Yes, sir, that would certainly be fine with us. See you in one hour.” Closing her phone, she turned to face the AEthereal and her partner. “The President is enjoying a break at Camp David. He has requested we join him in the inner room at the Aspen Lodge, apparently, the same one in which you met with President Eisenhower, in an hour. He said that would give him enough time to ensure he was alone and we wouldn't be interrupted. Can you take us there, Astra, or should we plan on using the Yukon?" "I can take you there. It will raise less speculation if no one is aware of the meeting, so driving there should be our last option, since such an arrival would become a matter of record. There are some definite advantages to portal travel,” she added smugly.

They both turned to look at Eric, who was staring at the glass of water in his hand and mumbling very softly. Astra winked at Judy and slipped quietly from the room. Judy sat down in the chair next to Eric, took the glass from him, and then took his hand in her own. He looked at her. “Okay, explain about this life bond business." "All right, Eric, it's simple. Astra explained that a life bond means we're matched for one another. It doesn't mean the relationship is fated or that free will has been abrogated. As Astra said, it will develop as the Fates allow.” She took a deep breath and then continued. “We've both felt the growing attraction between us, an affinity that I at least have never had with another person. Sometimes, that frightens me but most of the time, it's comforting. We'll just keep taking it slow and the whole issue will resolve itself. For right now, however, we need to get ready to see the President about our next steps.” She looked at him for a moment and then, impulsively, kissed his forehead before standing and walking from the room to change into something more appropriate for a meeting with the chief executive. By the time she returned to the library, Eric had regained his equilibrium, that cocky grin back in place. He walked over to her, tilted her chin up, and looked into her eyes. “I said it before and I will undoubtedly say it again. When did you get so smart?” He slung his arm around her shoulders and they went in search of Astra. When they found Astra, she stood before them, a pleased smile on her face. Without a word, Astra took their hands and they were surrounded by the soft blue shimmer of the portal. Astra released their hands and they stepped apart, now in the inner Presidential retreat at Aspen Lodge. For the moment, they were alone and Judy took advantage of the moment to look around her. The room was the quintessential upscale log cabin space, with split log walls and a beam ceiling. A large rock fireplace anchored one wall. There was a single door, presently closed. Comfortable leather chairs, sofa and a loveseat were arranged to provide an intimate conversation area. Oak tables provided convenient surfaces near the chairs and a massive coffee table made from a single slice of some huge tree, now protected by an inset glass top, provided the same for the sofa and loveseat. Lighting was principally indirect, giving the room a soft warmth. Area rugs in harmonious colors accented the plank floor. In the far corner sat a single desk with a battery of telephones, plus a computer. The walls were decorated with photographs of some of the famous visitors to the retreat. Churchill, Anwar Sadat and Menachim Begin, and remarkably, Nikita Khrushchev with Dwight Eisenhower. They all turned when the door to the room opened and the President entered. "Good, you're already here.” The President walked up to them. “Astra, it's wonderful to see you again. Nice to see you back on your feet again, Agent Johansson,” he added as he guided them to the seating area. “Agent Deavers, I'm pleased you called. I had wanted to thank you all for finding Bartlett." Astra spoke first. “The Council regards the immediate threat to us eliminated. However, they regard the missing visual records from Bartlett as being a potential threat to our future. These two have stated their intent to continue the search for those records and the Council has accepted them for continued service. The deadline and interdiction have been lifted." "That's wonderful news. It's a tribute to the hard work and personal risk the two of you have faced in service to our country,” the President responded, looking at the two embarrassed agents. “I support your decision to pursue this to its conclusion, obviously. I imagine I'll have to make some arrangement with the Director about it.” Seeing the agents nod, he said, “I'll take care of that in the morning; no use waking him tonight." "Thank you, Mr. President,” the two agents said in unison. "Agent Deavers, I was very impressed by your actions with Bartlett. That was an incredibly brave thing to do, although I imagine some people,” the President's eyes shifted to Johansson, “thought it foolish.

You saved that woman's life and contained the situation. I even understand you tried to convince the subject to surrender without violence, and then took action only when it became apparent there was no recourse. It may interest you to know that the head of my Secret Service detail actually wondered out loud whether you might be interested in coming over permanently. For him, that's a high compliment.” At her dismayed expression, he added, “Don't worry, it will never come up. I told him I liked you where you were." "Thank you, sir,” Judy said softly. Secret Service, no flipping way! Turning to Astra, the President said, “My Lady Astra, when this is all over, I would enjoy an opportunity to meet with you and learn more about your people. There is much you could tell us about our world's history and about your people's explorations." "I would enjoy that. I would welcome the strengthening of the bridge between our races into something built on trust and cooperation rather than fear.” Astra stood. “But that will have to wait for less troubled times for us both, I think." "Sadly, I must agree,” the President replied. Turning to the two agents, he said, “I'll contact the Director in the morning. He'll probably want to talk it over with you, so I would suggest going in to see him tomorrow.” He smiled as he added, “By a more conventional mode of travel." "Of course, sir.” Again, both agents spoke in unison, then laughed at themselves. "Good hunting and keep me posted,” the President said as his three visitors shimmered away. **** Astra excused herself to retire to her room, leaving the two alone. “Let's take a walk,” Eric suggested. They soon found themselves walking around the edge of the lake, enjoying a companionable silence. "Penny for your thoughts,” Judy said. "I could lie, I suppose, and say I was thinking about the case and what to do next, but the truth is, I was thinking about you.” He stopped and took her hands in his. “When you stood face to face with Bartlett, my heart was in my mouth. I was very afraid it would be you that got shot and that terrified me. I was actually aiming my weapon at him when you killed him." Judy looked at his earnest face. Quietly, she said, “I felt the same way when you were lying unconscious in that hospital bed, only I hadn't recognized the reason. I blamed the medication for my runaway emotions that night. Maybe there is something to this life bond thing." **** At ten the next morning, both agents presented themselves at the Director's office. He had called them to schedule the meeting and they had barely made the drive in time, the snow-covered roads adding to the time it took them. "Come in, both of you, and have a seat.” The Director was cordial. “As I said on the phone, the President has informed me that he still requires your presence on this classified case he assigned you. I had hoped that was closed, but since it isn't, we have some decisions to make together." Turning his attention to Judy, the Director said, “We're going to have to replace you as SAC in Spokane. Based on your initial recommendation and his subsequent performance, I'll confirm your ASAC as the new SAC. He's flying in this afternoon for a meeting with me and I'll tell him then." Judy was thrilled for Delroy, but a part of her was saddened by the loss of her coveted SAC position. It was the pinnacle of a field agent's career. She then thought about her current situation and decided what

she was doing now was really more important than her own career, not to mention, Eric was here. “That's wonderful news, sir. He deserves the promotion and I know he'll do a great job." "I have a similar problem in your area, Agent Johansson. Domestic Counterterrorism must have a chief and with you out of the picture for the foreseeable future, I need to fill that vacancy. Swanson has been your number two for a while. Can she handle the top position?" Eric thought about Swanson and knew she'd be perfect, which is why he'd picked her for the second slot in the first place. A good supervisor always trains a subordinate to be his replacement. “Absolutely, sir." "Okay, I'll invite her to lunch and tell her the good news. Officially, you have both been reassigned to the cadre of White House Investigators. Your pay, vacation, benefits, medical and all that will continue through the current FBI channels, but your duties will be assigned from over there. I suspect that means only by the President for now, but who knows? Should you ever get free of this, I'll welcome you both back with open arms. Agents like you two don't come along very often." The Director sat back in his chair. “As before, you have full access to any and all information or resources you need in completing your missions. You only need to brief me on things you think I need to know. When in doubt, act first and then tell me about it later to whatever degree I need to know.” Chuckling, he added, “Sometimes, I get a little cross because there are things going on I don't know about, but our friend at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue informed me that, when it comes to what you're doing, ignorance is truly bliss. I'll take his word for it." After leaving the Director's office, they went directly to Eric's old office. He grabbed a box and packed up the few small personal items in the room. With a last look around, he turned off the light and closed the door. **** When they returned to Astra's house under the mountain, she was waiting for them “I have a suggestion for you both.” She looked at both of them as she said, “You have each spent the last several months either living here, in hotels or a hospital, yet you continue to pay rent on an apartment elsewhere. I believe this is foolish and would like to suggest you both move in here. If there are some items of furniture at your places that have great sentimental value and you wish to keep, I can arrange to have them brought here; otherwise, I would suggest you just consider the furnishings in your rooms to be your own." "Astra, that's very generous of you, but this is your home. I feel like we're imposing on you already,” Judy said, and Eric voiced his agreement. "Nonsense. I have come to enjoy your company very much. I find that I become lonely when you are not here, so my request is as much rooted in my selfish desire for your company as it is in practicality. I believe we will be together for a long time to come and this arrangement just makes sense." Eric and Judy had both come to love the underground hideaway and they, too, enjoyed her company as well. Working for the AEthereals was proving both challenging and exciting, and both were loathe to have it end. So new was their personal relationship, they hadn't even discussed mundane matters like apartments and furniture. The Director's decision to replace Astra as the Spokane SAC meant she'd have to close her apartment anyway. And they both knew that arguing with Astra was an exercise in futility. "Thank you, Astra, I accept your generous offer. The Director has decided to replace me as the SAC in Spokane, so I would have had to close the apartment anyway. Since the place was furnished, there is

very little I need to bring here other than clothes, music and such. I suppose I could take a couple days, travel out there and close the apartment." "Why wait? I believe I have come to know you fairly well over the past few months. I believe that, with your permission, I could take an image of your apartment from your mind and portal us both there and back again along with any of your belongings. I find the possibility quite exciting. Would you care to try?” At Judy's slight nod, Astra turned to Eric. "While we are seeing to Judy's apartment, why do you not take care of yours? If there is something you wish to keep but do not feel the need to bring here, we will gladly pay for the storage since you are in our service." "Astra, that isn't necessary." "Nonsense. Your human employers routinely pay relocation expenses, do they not? This is merely the same thing.” Turning her attention back to Judy, she said, “I want you to concentrate very hard and think only of your apartment." Eric slipped quietly from the room while the two women sat there with their eyes closed in deep concentration. As he backed the Yukon from the garage, the conference room filled with the blue nimbus and the house was empty once more. **** Within a few hours, a tremendous amount had been accomplished. Judy contacted her landlord and explained that exigencies of federal service required she move immediately. The landlord was sorry to see her go but understood. He also agreed to notify the utility companies on her behalf. Judy then made arrangements to ship her personal furniture items back home to her family in South Carolina, holding out only those personal items she wanted in Maryland. A final pile of belongings were set aside. She called her favorite neighbor and invited her over. After explaining she was being transferred back East, she offered the woman the big pile of linens, cooking utensils and the nonperishable food items still left in the apartment. “Whatever you don't want, just donate to charity.” Judy retrieved her mail and left a change of address card to forward her mail care of FBI Headquarters, J. Edgar Hoover Building, Washington, D.C. Finally, Astra opened a portal back to Judy's bedroom under the mountain and they started passing her things through. Judy had just finished putting the last of her things away, while listening to the strains of Mozart from her CD player, when she heard the sounds of Eric returning. She helped him bring in a veritable mountain of clothes, along with some boxes of CDs and books. Hmmm, jazz, R&B, a bit of classical; not bad taste in music. As she watched him hang up all his suits, shirts, slacks and ties, she realized Eric was even more of a clothes horse than she herself was. When she kidded him about it, he replied, “I can't exactly buy things off the rack. Since I have to pay high prices to have everything tailored, I figured why not go for the best? Being single meant it really was my only expense, outside of routine maintenance like rent, utilities and food." Astra stuck her head in the room and announced that dinner was ready. As they ate, Eric brought the conversation around to business. “Judy, where do suggest we begin to look for the missing film?" "As I see it, we really only have one place to start, and that's with the only living conspirator we know: Dan Mayfield. I suggest we go down to the federal prison in Atlanta tomorrow and have a nice, long chat with him. There has to be something he knows that will help us,” Judy offered. “Then we move in whatever direction his information takes us. You know, we really should have talked to the Director about logistic support." Astra looked confused. “What do you mean by logistic support?"

"Things like getting airplane tickets, hotel rooms, meals, rental cars and other unexpected requirements on the road. It's going to be a royal pain in the ass dealing with the FBI bureaucracy whenever we need to go somewhere,” Eric replied. “Especially when we tell them they have no need to know why we need the support. I foresee a lot of calls to the Director." "I thought we made it plain that we regard you as being in our service now,” Astra said calmly as she handed each agent a small, plastic card. “Your society does most things like that using these cards, correct? I took the liberty of having these accounts set up for you drawing against the AEthereal accounts. We are, after all, your employers, so we should expect to defray those costs, too.” Seeing the objections forming on Eric's face, Astra held up her hand in a gesture to stop. “Not a word, Eric! We had this conversation already about the moving and storage and this is the same thing." Judy looked at the American Express card in her hand. It looked subtly different than the corporate card she carried. “Astra, does this card look the way it does because it was issued through Great Britain?" "No, my dear. It looks the way it does to distinguish it from cards that have limits. This card does not have any limits or exclusions.” Astra looked pleased with her surprise. "No limits? None at all?” Eric was stunned. Astra shook her head. “Why risk compromising your mission over something so trivial? You need to take a plane, charter one, or even buy one, you have the means without having to get permission. We regard you as extensions of the Council, Eric, and know you will not do anything outside that role. You both have too much integrity." Judy stood. “Well, I guess that's all settled. Thank you, Astra, for eliminating a problem before we even thought of it. We'll head for Atlanta tomorrow, but first, Eric, you still owe me an hour and a half of PT followed by an hour of swimming.” At his mock groan, she said laughingly, “Hey, do a good job and I'll wear my bikini.” Eric bolted from the room to change. Judy shook her head. “Men are so easy." **** Judy wore a bulky track suit in the gymnasium while she had done her own workout as Eric did his required physical therapy. Half an hour on the stair master, another thirty minutes on the Bowflex®, and finally another half an hour on the stationary bicycle. She was hot and sweaty but she was waiting until Eric had finished his own cycle of exercise when Astra walked into the gym. Astra watched as Eric lifted the free-weight barbell over his head. “Eric,” Astra said, “you remind me of the wrestlers in ancient Greece whose forms were much like yours. They would coat themselves in oil and then wrestle for the honor of their city states. The women of the time would watch and wager on the ones who caught their fancy. Sometimes, the women themselves were the wager. It was a very licentious period. What I never understood was why so many of the men seemed to prefer each other over the women they had incited.” Eric's face turned red and he began to lose control of the heavy weight. Astra reached out one hand and effortlessly lowered the barbell to the rack. Judy began to snicker at his embarrassment over Astra's observation. “Laugh not, Judy, for at the same time, there was a society of women on the Isle of Sapphos whose interests lay solely among each other with no men at all. Aesthetically more pleasing, I will grant you, but still strange to me.” Now it was Judy's turn to blush. "AEthereals, like most species, only mate for the purpose of bearing young and that's at intervals of a millennia. One side effect of adopting human forms was we also developed human appetites. Your species alone mates solely for pleasure, apparently as often as you can. Many of my species have mated among the humans over the ages, often taken as gods and goddesses. There would be no issue permitted from any such union, of course, but that did not stop the practice."

"Have you ever...” Eric started to ask but stopped, aghast at his temerity. Astra laughed, the sound like liquid over stones in a rill. “Of course I did, if only to learn about your kind. How else would I know about the ladies of Sapphos, or the men of Greece? Over the centuries, I have experimented in many aspects of your culture. While my kind mates for life, I have been alone an incredibly long time. Sharing the human experience as one of you has been one of the things keeping me going all these eons." Judy decided it was time to change the subject. “How about that swim?" Astra agreed and strolled through the door to the lake. She dropped her shift on the sands and waded nude into the water before swimming away. Judy waited until Eric's attention drifted back in her direction before she slowly lowered the zipper on the front of her suit. His eyes widened at the site of her chest barely concealed behind the small bright red triangles of fabric. Then she raced to the beach ahead of him. She had gained just enough distance to have time to pull off her shoes, socks, sweat pants and top, and then dash to the rock edge where it was safe to dive. Eric waited until she surfaced. “Come on, chicken! The water's fine,” she called out to him. He pulled off his own sweats and Judy's breath caught in her throat. Eric was wearing the briefest swim suit she had ever seen! With his physique, the suit looked great on him. The only bad thing was that the bright blue suit was like a magnet for her eyes, which meant she was drawn to stare at what it barely covered. Bastard was playing the same game on her as she had in mind when she put on the bikini. That's what she got for telling him she would wear one. Eric finally jumped into the water and swam over to Judy. “Nice suit, Judy.” There was just a trace of a leer in the comment. "You, too. Did the washer shrink it, or is it the same one you wore when you were seven?” Judy replied sweetly as she pushed away from him in a leisurely Australian crawl around the lake, which he began to match stroke for stroke. Soon, the tempo picked up and within moments, they were in an all out race around the lake. As they neared the end of their strength, they started to float on their backs to catch their breath. Astra suddenly surfaced between them just when Eric was thinking about making a move on Judy. “That was quite a race! And those suits are better, but no suit at all is much more practical. This is one thing I have never fully understood about your species; this fundamental inhibition about being free and natural. You both have beautiful bodies you take good care of, so there is no aesthetic reason for your reluctance. I fear I may never grasp these social mores.” She shook her head. “Come, let us go to the soft sands and talk while you rest." At first, Eric was quite uncomfortable sitting next to the very naked Astra. Her human form was not only exact, it was extremely attractive. Only Judy's knowing smirk kept his libido in check. Of course, Judy's own near nudity didn't help him much either. Catching Eric's covert inspection, Astra said, “One thing about the human body I have trouble with is hair. You are positively covered with it from the tops of your heads to the toes on your feet. It may be barely perceptible, or it can be long and luxurious. It took me a long time to master eyebrows alone. As a result, I never bothered with it other than on my head.” Catching Judy's eye, she added, “Over the centuries, women have gone hirsute to bald and every stage in between. Trust me when I say in this case, less is more."

Judy decided to change the subject. “Astra, I couldn't help noticing the difference in the forms the Council takes from the one you adopt. Their forms are larger and seem more powerful, while yours is closer to the human norm." "That is driven, I suppose, by convention. White dragons are smaller than the other colors. Blacks are the largest and most powerful, which is why they form the fiercest of our battle wings. Next come the Browns, like Grendal, then the Blues and the Greens. Among the females, Reds like Hecate are the largest, followed by Oranges, the Golds, and then finally, the Whites. As a result, we tend to adopt forms in keeping with our natures.” Astra paused as she considered what to say next. “Ebon must always be the largest male present with Grendal close behind. The lusty Hecate takes her image from what she considers to be men's desires. I prefer to be smaller, more proportional, yet still ... attractive.” Her hands traced her along her side in a very human female gesture. "That makes sense, I suppose,” Eric said. “Why do the names Grendal and Hecate sound so familiar?" Astra looked a bit sheepish as she admitted, “When I said I was the only one with permission from the Council to interact with humans, it was not completely the truth. There was a time when others used to intermingle among the humans. Grendal used to prey upon humans in the Scandinavian regions and thus, gave birth to the Beowulf legend. The ever lusty Hecate preyed upon the gullible, portraying her portal use and shape shifting as magic. There are those today that still pray for Hecate's assistance in carrying out spells. They are both very amused by the stories that abound within your culture that stem from their play among you." From Astra's small amused smile, Judy suspected there was at least one legend attributed to Astra. “Okay, I see the smile. Out with it. What did you do?" "Once, a long time ago, the people of the area now called England were warring factions. They preyed upon each other and the poor common peasants. I thought uniting them under one leader would begin the process of civilizing the region. I selected the most sensible and gullible among the leaders and gave him a vision and a symbol of his destiny.” Astra tried to look innocent, but mischief danced in her eyes. "I got it! She's talking about Arthur and she was the Lady of the Lake!” Eric blurted out. “How marvelous." Nodding her head, Astra continued. “I also adopted the guise of an ancient man who shaped the young king using magical powers and lessons on what could and should be." "Merlin? You were Merlin?” Judy asked, awed. "I even called upon Ebon for help. He was the fierce dragon Merlin defeated to prove his powers before the assembled leaders. Nothing like a stage play to solidify the position I needed. Of course, your time regards all that as fable and legend, but both my brother and I regard those tales with affection, for they were good memories." "You can adopt a male form?” Eric was fascinated. Instantly, Eric sat facing himself! The only difference Judy could see was the fact the real Eric was in a blue swim suit and the counterfeit was gloriously naked. Astra then resumed her normal shape. "We can adopt any form, although transgender shifting can be very disconcerting when done for any prolonged period." "Didn't you spend years as Merlin?” Eric asked.

"Why do you think Merlin had long hair and always wore voluminous robes? Under that beard, I was as female as I am now. The beard itched but it was a small price to pay for introducing peace in the area." Astra then stretched, a display that amused Judy as she watched Eric try very hard not to stare. “I will leave you alone now. Oh, by the way, I have arranged a charter jet for your use tomorrow and for as long as you need it. It is waiting for you at Dulles International Airport. I thought this way would eliminate the issues involving your weapons while traveling.” Without another word, Astra stood and calmly walked from the lake enclosure. There seemed to be a bit of extra swaying in the swing of her naked hips, as if taunting Eric. "That suit getting a bit confining, sport?” Judy laughed as she stood. “Tell you what, let's race some more. That should cool you down!” She ran and jumped into the lake. Eric quickly jumped into the water after her. They raced across the lake, Judy staying slightly ahead of Eric until they reached the far side of the lake and there she let him catch up to her. “One last dash to shore and then I'm off for the showers,” Judy said, adding “Make yours a cold one, partner."

Chapter 14 Judy and Eric thought they could get used to this kind of life. Having their own private luxury jet sure made air travel pleasant. The jet Astra provided was fully appointed. Eight wide comfortable chairs, a bedroom, and a full staff, including stewardesses. When they landed at Atlanta, the pilot informed them that he'd arranged for them to be met by ground transportation. Deplaning from the jet, they were surprised to find a new Mercedes SL600 sedan waiting for them. Placing their bags in the trunk, the vehicle deliveryman handed the keys to Eric, saying he could ‘just drop the car off here at the terminal and it would be picked up'. Arriving unannounced at a Federal penitentiary normally would present some problems, but their White House credentials soon had them escorted to the warden's office. He was very curious why two investigators wanted to see one of his prisoners, but knew they wouldn't explain. Arranging for the prisoner to be brought to a secure interview room, the warden personally escorted the two agents. Pointing to a telephone handset mounted on the wall, he said, “All you need to do is pick that handset up. One of the guards will escort you either back to my office, or out to your vehicle." Moments later, Dan Mayfield was brought into the room. Mayfield looked at Judy and sat in the chair. “I've kept my end of the bargain." Judy took the lead while Eric just stood behind her looking menacing. “I know you have, Mayfield. We wouldn't be having this conversation otherwise, because you would be dead." "So why are you here? I know you smoked Bartlett. Nice shooting, by the way.” Dan Mayfield was actually trying to be nice and cooperative. "We want to know who else was involved with Bartlett,” Judy said. "There really wasn't anyone else involved. Bartlett told us where to go and when to blow the places up. I'd steal the dynamite and cobble together the bomb, then deliver the damn thing to Jesse and Billy. They would do the deed based on Bartlett's schedule.” Looking at Eric's scowl, Mayfield added, “That's the truth, honest!" "While my partner here may not believe you, Mayfield, I do. I believe you because I know you have a good idea of what will happen if you ever lie to me.” She could see the color slowly drain from Mayfield's face as she reminded him of the terrible fate of his former accomplices. Judy thought for a minute. “Let's take a different approach. Where did you hook up with Bartlett?" "We met in a titty bar outside Kansas City. Oh, we'd seen each other around at the different White Nation camps, but never talked until that evening. I really wasn't paying a whole lot of attention to what he was saying ‘cuz I was staring at the stripper dancing in front of us.” Dan smiled at the memory. “Good looking gal. Anyway, I perked up when he mentioned he would be willing to pay me some money if I could hook him up with someone that could make him some bombs.” At the look on the agents’ faces, he said, “No, really. He asked me that right there at the bar, not five feet from this naked dancer shaking her assets. I slipped the honey a fiver and grabbed my beer and led him to a table near the back where we could talk more private." "Go on.” Judy kept her tone conversational. "He explained he wanted someone who could supply him with a series of simple bombs, nothing fancy or complicated. Lots of bang for little bucks. I told him that if plain old dynamite was good enough, then I could do it myself.” He looked at Judy as he added, “If I had known how it all would end up, I never would have had that conversation. Hell, I might have gotten lucky with the dancer." "Did he say anything else that night?"

"No, we struck a deal—a thousand bucks per bomb delivered to his crew—and he said he had to leave to meet his son somewhere. The rest of our conversations were over the prepaid cell phones he gave us and they were just delivery instructions. That's all I know." Eric pounced on the clue. “Tell me about the son." "There's nothing to tell. I never met him. Like I said earlier, the meeting in the bar was the first time we ever talked.” Mayfield was defensive now. Judy spoke up. “Didn't you say you'd seen Bartlett around some of the camps of White Nation groups? Think back. Was there anyone you saw him with that could have been his son?" Mayfield was quiet a moment, clearly lost in his thoughts about those meetings. “Well, maybe. Look I don't know if it was his kid or not, but I did see him a couple times with the same young guy. Late teens or maybe twenty; not much older. Always wore a ball cap and a big fatigue jacket." He looked at the pair of agents and added, “Look, if I knew more, I would tell you. You've played straight with me and I intend to be straight with you. I know I deserve to be in here for what I did. Just luck that no one died from one of my bombs, and for that mercy, I thank God each and every day." Eric picked up the handset and asked for the prisoner to be escorted back to his cell. Once Mayfield had been removed, the two agents sat at the table. Judy looked sad. “What's on your mind?” Eric asked. "Mayfield. I really think he is sorry for what he's done with his life. I think if he could do it all over again, he would probably have chosen a different path. Bartlett hit him at a time he needed money and it looked like an easy out for him. There was nothing political or even malicious about any of his involvement. It was just business.” She looked at Eric. “I know we can't do anything about the length of his sentence under the Federal Sentencing Guidelines, but I wonder if we could get him transferred quietly to one of those places with lighter security. You know, the country clubs they send the rich offenders to. It would make his time easier." "It would also make him much more visible if our employers choose to eliminate him,” Eric advised. “But I agree with you. He really doesn't deserve a solitary lock down in a maximum security prison for the next twenty-five years. I'll make some calls and see what can be done." After thanking the warden for the use of his facilities, they drove back to the airport. Judy had called the pilot and told him to file a flight plan for an immediate return to Washington. They parked the car in the space provided and left the keys with the manager of the executive jet parking facility, who assured the agents he would notify the rental agency. The jet started taxiing as soon as the door was closed and they were seated. "Okay, what do we know about the son already?” Judy asked, placing her breakfast of honeydew melon and cantaloupe pieces on the table next to her coffee. "We don't even know if he exists, Judy,” said Eric as he stirred his first cup of coffee. "You sure are grumpy this morning! What's the matter? Didn't you get enough sleep?” Judy asked mischievously. Eric just glared at her. He hadn't gotten much sleep until four in the morning, thinking about Judy and the new emotions she was stirring in him. Now here she was, a mere three hours later, looking fresh as a daisy. He hated daisies. There was also no doubt in his mind that she had already completed a workout in the gym this morning, too.

"Have it your way. What can we assume about the son?” Judy asked, ignoring his glare. “Since there's no record of Bartlett ever getting married, we can assume the child was illegitimate. None of our files indicate he's ever had a steady relationship with any woman, so I'll wager the mother was either a pro or an actress in the porn films he used to work on." "That makes sense, I guess. Although I'm not sure how that helps us.” Eric marveled at the subtle way her mind worked. "The son will be White. There's no way a man with Bartlett's hatred for non-white races would ever have sex with anyone other than a Caucasian.” Judy looked up from the list she was writing. “My bet is the mother will turn out to be some big breasted blonde bimbo from one of the porn films. For some reason, I just can't see Bartlett paying for sex." "Okay,” Eric agreed. “That makes him the unknown son of an unknown porn star in Los Angeles in the late 70's—early 80's. Say 1975 through 1985. So we're looking for white males born in the Los Angeles metropolitan area to a single mother during a ten year period. There must be hundreds of them, if not thousands.” Eric threw his hands up in the air. “How the hell can we winnow that down to something manageable?" "I think we can narrow that window some. I'll bet Bartlett didn't know about the boy until he was a teenager or later.” Not seeing any understanding on Eric's face, she pressed on. “I suspect the child was born within a few months before or after his departure from California. I'll bet we'll find out his son sought him out later in life. So if we narrow that search parameter to single mothers between August 1984 and October 1985, since he left in March of 1985, we should drop that down to an almost manageable number." "Okay, I suppose that's a good supposition to make,” Eric conceded. "A percentage of them will have died during childhood,” Judy suggested. "Even eliminating say, five percent that way, it's still a lot of people. Where the hell are we going to get that kind of computing time and people?” Eric wondered. "As I see it, we have a couple choices. We can go to Los Angeles and spend the next several weeks digging through the records in every county and town around Los Angeles, assuming we can talk our way into access. We can try to use Bureau resources, but that will entail all sorts of legal steps to gain the information we need.” Judy looked up into his face as she added, “Or we can take advantage of our Presidential ‘Get out of Jail Free’ cards and hack our way into the systems and get the information ourselves." "I sure as hell don't know how to do that kind of stuff. Do you?” Eric asked. "No, but I know someone who does. It will mean bringing someone else into the mix, though, plus getting some really fancy computer gear to use for the work. Before we can do that, I think we need to discuss all this with Astra,” Judy said. “She may have some problems with expanding our little club." **** Astra listened carefully as Judy explained what they'd learned in Atlanta and what steps they felt were necessary to prove the existence of Bartlett's son and try to track him down. When Judy explained the need for someone with the right combination of skills needed to get into the various computer systems, Astra said, “Is what you are suggesting not a violation of many of your laws?" "Technically, yes,” Judy said. "More than just technically, Judy. It's against both federal and state laws,” Eric said.

"Okay, yes it is, but it's not like we're doing it for any criminal reason, or for personal gain. We could obtain the information through channels, but that would require a great deal of time and a lot of explanations we cannot afford." Astra thought about it for a long time before she asked, “Do you fully understand that bringing this person in will affect the rest of their life? Should they learn too much, they will either have to be bound to the Council or killed. Is this person someone in whom I should trust the secret of the AEthereals, or is this someone who will be ultimately condemned to death?" Judy was shaken by Astra's response. Can I trust Spyder with the ultimate secret? He'd probably think it was cool and be happy to help. If not, can I live with the results? Deep down inside, Judy felt Spyder would be safe with their secrets. "Astra, I guess I believe what we're doing is important enough to risk this. The person I have in mind isn't what anyone would consider a good security risk, but I think he is absolutely the right person for this job. We shouldn't need to bring in the underlying reasons we need the information, but I also think he can be trusted, should he learn your secret.” Judy then added, “We can contain the problem if we bring him here and do all the computer work from this location." "Why can't we just set him up somewhere else? After all, hacking can be done from anywhere,” Eric argued. "This particular young man is under a federal injunction against even touching a computer. If he gets caught, he'll go to jail for a very long time, so he would have no choice but to explain he was doing what we told him to,” Judy replied. Eric said, “We could alert the locals to leave him alone." "And that would just make them wonder what two new investigators, assigned to the White House, were having a convicted hacker doing. Knowing our brethren in the FBI and NSA, they would then focus their attention on him and watch each and every key stroke with the goal of embarrassing us and the White House. Let's face it, the only safe way to do this is to bring him here, where we can both protect him and the research, and make sure he doesn't make too many educated guesses about what's really going on,” Judy replied firmly. Eric wasn't sure this was the right thing to do, but he was at a loss to offer an alternative. “Bringing this person here will increase the likelihood he'll discover the secret.” He didn't mention his other reason; the impact the presence of another person would have on his growing relationship with Judy. "I honestly think it will be okay. This guy is a little out there, but inside, he's solid,” Judy stated once again. He decided to just trust Judy's judgment, so he nodded his head in acquiescence. Astra said, “Very well. We will add one more to our group here under the mountain. If he proves false, I will deal with him. How shall we recruit his help?" Judy smiled, “I know exactly how to get him, but I'll need your help."

Chapter 15 Spyder was slouched behind one of the computer screens at the CyZone Computer Café, one of hundreds of small internet cafes that had opened across the country to meet the demand for relatively anonymous computer connectivity demanded by the younger crowds who had grown up in a world dominated by computers. Whether it was for checking email, gaming or even cyber chatting with other wireheads, such cafes were always crowded. Like all such cafes, CyZone had a group of regulars; people who came by every day and sat at the same machines, sipping their lattes. Most of them were young and very computer savvy. Some, like Spyder, even helped keep the café operating by fixing the computers, applying the latest hotfixes and patches, and making sure the firewalls worked the way they were supposed to. Who better to watch for hackers than other hackers? Spyder, of course, was not his real name but for this generation, the only names that mattered to them were their self-determined computer appellations. He'd been Spyder since he was ten years old and logged onto his first computer. He'd once thought about getting a big spider tattoo on the back of his hand, but was too afraid of needles to do it. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone. Spyder looked like a cross between a computer nerd and an old grunge-style groupie. He stood a little over six feet tall but weighed less than one hundred forty pounds. His hair, red as copper wire, hung well past his shoulders, even in the ponytail he habitually wore it in to keep it out of his face. His thin face was shadowed by a slight beard and mustache. He had pale blue eyes that needed glasses to work on the ultra fine screen displays he preferred. He was indifferent to his clothes and they hung from his thin frame like castoffs from an older, larger brother. Annoyed by the shadow cast by someone standing too close, he looked up from the monitor to tell them to back off. It couldn't be, but it was and he was so busted. "Spyder, Spyder. Whatever am I going to do with you?” Judy said. “You know the condition of your probation said no computers, and yet here I find you using one." Gulping audibly, Spyder stammered out a half-hearted denial, “I wasn't using it, Agent Deavers. I was just sitting here looking at it." "I don't buy that one for a minute, sport. Stand up and turn around.” When the gawky youth stood and turned as she directed, Judy handcuffed his hands behind his back. “Spyder, I'm taking you into custody for violating your federal probation." As the stunned crowd watched, Judy started leading her prisoner toward the rear door of the café. A few braver souls booed as the pair went through the door and walked into the alley. Spyder's eyes widened in surprise as he saw Astra. “Wow, Agent Deavers! Who's your new partner?” Before he could say another word, Judy slipped a bag over his head to cover his eyes. Astra quickly took one of Judy's hands and placed her other hand on the prisoner's shoulder, gating them back to the conference room in her home. Upon arriving, Judy pushed Spyder into a chair and removed the hood. "Wha ... wha ... what happened? Where are we?” Spyder was looking all around the room, trying to figure out what just happened and where the alley went. "Where we are and how we got here are none of your business at the moment, Spyder. I want you to listen very carefully to what I'm going to say.” Judy's voice was very firm as she made him face her. “Are you listening?" Spyder swallowed hard. Judy could see his Adam's apple bob. He nodded.

"You have just been hired by the U.S. Government for a special project. We want you to find someone for us,” Judy said. "I don't know anything about finding people, ma'am.” He looked around and saw Eric for the first time and his apprehension increased. “I wouldn't know how!" "Spyder, we need your computer skills here. We need you to figure out who this person is for us and then, once we know that, we need to try and locate him.” Judy soothed the frightened young man. “Let me explain." For the next hour, Judy explained what they knew and suspected about the probable son of the slain terrorist. Spyder looked thoughtful, his eyes sparkling with suppressed excitement. “That's a challenge, all right. What system are you planning to use?” he asked. Eric spoke up. “That's your call. You tell us what you need and we'll get it for you." Spyder looked up. “Really? Brilliant! I'm going to need..." Eric held up his hand. “Just write it all down, Spyder. None of us will understand a word you say, so write it down." "Can I get these cuffs off?" **** After releasing Spyder's hands and giving him a sheet of paper and a pen, Judy walked out of the conference room with Astra. “I know he seems a little strange but he really is quite good with computers and he's otherwise harmless." Astra smiled. “I think he is cute. Like a forlorn little puppy. We will need to get him some clothes, too. The ones he is wearing should be burned." It took two hours before Spyder finally declared his list complete. Before Eric could email it to the Director, Astra took the list away from him. “The less they know about what we are doing, the better. Judy and I will handle this, as well as getting some clothes for Spyder. The chore I have for you, Eric, is simple. When we get back, I want him clean. I do not care if you have to bathe him yourself, but he must be clean. I have a very keen sense of smell and he offends me. He is so dirty, I wouldn't let him near the lake in his present condition.” With those words, she walked from the room. Spyder looked up as Eric came back into the conference room. “What's up, big dude? What's next on the agenda?" Eric slowly shook his head. Despite himself, he was actually beginning to like the irreverent style with which Spyder approached life. “Next is showing you to your room. Once there, you will strip. You will then shower." "Hell, man, I just showered Thursday. I'm cool,” Spyder responded. "No, you're not. Trust me, the ladies are not impressed by personal odors. Come with me.” Eric directed Spyder down the hallway to the bedroom next to his, away from both Judy and Astra. Opening the door to yet another massive bedroom suite, this one furnished in warm maples and gold fabrics, Eric was impressed both in the scale of this mountain home and the tastes of the woman who owned it all. "Holy cow! This is awesome!” Spyder looked around the room. “Hey, dude, where's the windows? How come there are no windows?"

"You don't need to know that, Spyder. The bath is through there. Take off your clothes and give them to me.” Eric's commanding tone made Spyder think twice about objecting. When he'd finished removing his clothes, Eric thought the kid's skinny body looked like a concentration camp victim. "Hey, kid, who whipped your back like that?” Eric demanded, catching a glimpse of old scars across the pale, skinny back from shoulders to waist. "What?” Spyder stopped and turned around to look at the agent. “No one whipped me. Those are stretch marks from when I grew too fast. Over seven inches in one summer. My skin just couldn't keep up.” He had caught the concerned look on the agent's face, though. “But thanks for caring." Once Spyder had gotten into the shower, humming some song while shampooing his long hair, Eric quickly sorted through the pile of dirty clothes. Dropping Spyder's wallet, keys, and other incidentals from the boy's pockets onto the nightstand, Eric bundled the disreputable garments into a ball and took them out of the room for disposal. Knowing his own clothes would be way too big, he found a robe for Spyder to wear until replacement clothing could be obtained. Spyder was already getting out of the shower. “Again. Get back in there and scrub. You can do it yourself, or I can take a scrub brush to you!” Eric shouted at the boy. “Damn, son, have some respect for yourself, even if you don't care what other people think." Finally, Eric was satisfied Spyder was as clean as he could get. Handing the boy the robe, he said “Okay, wear this until we get you some new clothes. Let me show you around this place and tell you the rules." In the hallway, he said, “Bedrooms. This is mine, that one's Agent Deavers, and the one at the far end belongs to Lady Astra. Touch any of those doorknobs, and I'll personally break both your legs." The tour came to an abrupt stop in the kitchen. Spyder was starving, he announced. Eric let the lad fix what he wanted; Lord knows he looked like he hadn't seen food in a month. Never before had Eric encountered anyone so skinny. Two roast beef sandwiches, a bag of chips, and three larger tumblers of milk later, Spyder belched and said he was through while wiping his milk moustache with the sleeve of his robe. Eric smacked the back of the kid's head, sending red hair flying about in wild confusion. “Use a napkin, boy. Hasn't anyone ever taught you manners?" "What difference does it make?” Spyder muttered. "When you get to know Lady Astra, you'll understand,” Eric said. “I also want you to behave yourself around Agent Deavers. Do anything to offend her and I will hurt you." "Oh, ho! So that's the way things are!” Spyder flinched at Eric's sudden glare. “No offense, man! I think she's cool, even if she did bust me." "What did she get you for, hacking?” Eric asked, curious about the young man's history. "Yeah, I was poking around in the college mainframe and she nailed me like a hawk on a turtledove. My dorm room flew open and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground, my hands behind my back in cuffs with her knee in my spine.” He was quiet a minute. “She was fair, though, even spoke up for me at my sentencing and got me probation. Like I said, she's cool." Eric then continued the tour, showing him the living room, followed by taking him to the gym. “Spyder, another one of our rules involves this place. Each of us spends at least one hour or longer every day working out in here.” Eric looked the scrawny kid over. “From the look of you, this is the first time you've been in a place like this since high school. I'll help you develop a program to start with. Within a few weeks, you'll really start to see and feel a difference. Build up some muscle, and you

won't look like such a geek.” When Spyder looked like he was going to complain, Eric shook his head, “This is not negotiable. Exercise is a great stress reliever and it sure helps with the ladies. No woman wants a skinny nerd. Trust me." "I guess.” Spyder was not at all convinced. "Not all exercise has to be boring, Spyder. After working out in here, we treat ourselves to this.” Eric flipped a wall switch and the lights around the underground lake came on. "Brilliant! A whole lake underground. This is totally awesome!” Spyder dashed out the door to stand near the edge of the lake. “It's even heated!" "Natural geothermal action. Even when it's freezing outside, it's warm and comfortable in here,” Eric said. Spyder looked a little abashed. “Um, do you think you could...” Spyder hesitated a long time before continuing “...teach me to swim?" Knowing just how hard that must have been for the young man to ask, Eric said, “Sure thing, Spyder. As soon as you get a swim suit.” Eric thought a moment. “If you get a swim suit. Our hostess tends to overlook them for some reason." Spyder looked aghast at the idea of swimming without a suit, especially if Agent Deavers or the mysterious Lady Astra were around. Eric took pity on him. “Don't worry, kid. I'll get you one myself if I have to." By the time Eric and Spyder returned to the main living areas, the women had returned loaded down with bags. Shepherding Spyder into his room, they started pulling out clothes for him. The poor guy looked like a deer in the headlights as they loaded him up with underwear, socks, Dockers khaki slacks, and a nice broadcloth shirt and then pointed him in the direction of the bathroom. Minutes later, a different young man emerged. His hair was now neatly bound at the nape of his neck, the tailored clothes giving him an air of sophistication so lacking before. Astra looked him up and down. “Much better, but I don't care for the facial hair at all." Without knowing why, almost as if under a compulsion, Spyder returned to the bathroom and carefully shaved his face for the first time in two years. Catching sight of the new look in the mirror, he thought, Hey, I actually look pretty good! before returning to face with the others. **** Judy was amazed. Gone was the awkward young man she'd arrested once before, now there stood someone who appeared self-assured, confident; at least until you looked in his eyes and saw the fear. Fear that vanished the moment Spyder locked eyes with Astra. What is it, Judy wondered, that Astra does which makes men fall so instantly in love with her? Look at him! He would do anything she asked just because she looked at him and smiled that smile of hers. Whether we like it or not, Spyder is bound to the Council now. We couldn't budge him with all Mayfield's dynamite. "It will take a few days before the computer equipment you specified can be delivered. Until that time, I would suggest you relax and perhaps think about how you can best proceed to obtain the information we need.” Spyder hung on every word Astra spoke. Judy smiled to herself. Nothing on Earth could make Spyder betray Astra in any way. Breaking the silence, Eric said, “I gave him the tour and also promised to help him develop a physical training regimen to put some muscle on that skinny frame of his. I hope you two remembered a swim suit when you were buying out the stores."

"I remembered, Eric,” Judy replied. “Why don't you help Spyder put away his new things while Astra and I fix something for dinner? Then we can talk about how we'll operate from now on." **** As they ate dinner, Spyder asked about the connectivity from the mountain retreat. Eric explained they had a shielded T1 connection tapped off a nearby government facility. “That's wizard! Anyone who back traces our probes will think it came from there,” Spyder replied. “As long as no one catches the T1 tap, we should be clear." "I think we can rest easy on that score. Should they ever trace it back to that location, they'll presume it was legitimate. Even if questions are asked, our usage will be explained away in such a manner, it will never be traced to us,” Eric replied. "What did you do, tap the NSA?” Spyder challenged. “No one has that kind of clout!" "Actually, we are tapped off Camp David,” Astra explained. “We have an agreement with the President that shields us." Stunned, Spyder looked at the three people sitting around him at the table. “Just who are you people? What in the hell have I gotten myself into?" Astra smiled at him and Spyder reacted as if the sun had suddenly broken through storm clouds. “I think you have just found your purpose in life." After dinner, Eric took Spyder back to his room and told him to change into his swim suit and sweats. When Eric returned to Spyder's room after changing his own clothes, he found Spyder still dressed sitting on his bed, staring at a small swatch of cloth. The pale face turned to look at him, then blushed crimson as he said, “I can't wear this! There's nothing to it at all!" Eric laughed. “I know how you feel. Astra really believes swim suits are superfluous but, since we insist on wearing them, she has her little joke on us by providing them as small as decency, if not modesty, permits.” Gesturing at the brief suit, he said, “You can either wear that or swim naked, your choice. Personally, I opt for the suit.” Still chuckling, he added, “I'll wait for you in the hall." After a few minutes, a still blushing Spyder joined him and they headed for the gym. Once there, Eric demonstrated the techniques for using the Bowflex®. Before letting Spyder start a routine, Eric set the weight to its lowest level, twenty-five pounds. While Spyder began to slowly work his way through the repetitions, Eric started his own workout with the stationary bike. After the first ten minutes, Spyder was beginning to struggle, even with such a low weight, so Eric stopped him and moved him over to the second stationary bike. As they both pedaled, Judy came in, reset the Bowflex® to provide one hundred twenty-five pounds of resistance and began her brisk routine. Spyder was in awe. After thirty minutes, she and Eric switched. Eric set the machine to provide two hundred twenty-five pounds of resistance, making his massive chest and arms bulge with effort, while Judy chatted with Spyder. When they entered the lake area, Judy took off her sweats, revealing the one piece tank suit she had worn that first time. “I'm going to join Astra. See you two later.” She dove into the water and swam to the far end of the lake where Astra was swimming. Eric was both relieved by Judy's suit and saddened by it, because it reinforced the fact his chances to expand their lakeside trysts were over now that Spyder had joined the group. On the upside, her decision to swim with Astra meant Spyder wouldn't be so self-conscious about learning to swim and the lad would not be distracted by Astra. They kept to the shallow end of the lake, staying where the water was barely up to the chest. The first obstacle was the fact the boy's physique had almost no body fat, making it virtually impossible for the

kid to float like most people. This tended to make him panic and sink that much faster, but after about thirty minutes, Spyder had learned the rudiments of swimming. He was graceless and noisy, raising huge splashes of water as he flailed his arms and kicked his feet, but he managed to propel himself through the water. The rest would come with time and practice. When Spyder began to tire, Eric directed him back to the beach and their towels. As Eric watched the approach of the two women, he was a bit worried about how Spyder would react to Astra. Amazingly enough, Astra was actually wearing a suit. Granted, there wasn't much to it, especially since it was Judy's small red bikini and, on Astra, it became even smaller in apparent size. To be fair, it was larger than the microscopic swimsuits all the rage for exhibitionists, but only by a few centimeters. Judging by the stunned look on poor Spyder, she might as well have done without it. Eric was afraid the kid was going to faint when Astra smiled at him. "Spyder, I am pleased you have joined our little group. I worry about you because you are so thin. We will put some meat and muscle on those bones, never you fear.” He blushed halfway down his chest when he noticed she was looking him over. “Do you have any questions for me, Spyder?" "Yes, ma'am,” Spyder whispered. “Who are you? I mean, I know these two are federal cops, but you obviously are not.” Pointing at Eric, Spyder said, “He tells me you own this place and you bought me all the clothes and stuff. You're so beautiful, you should be a model or a movie star.” Spyder just sort of ran out of words, his face blushing bright red. Astra laughed that wondrous liquid sound she made of delight. “Thank you, sweet boy. As for who I am, I am Astra. I do indeed own this house and a great many more. Money means very little to me, except for the pleasure it can bring my friends, and I can see you will indeed be among those I count as friends, as are these two.” Astra's gesture included Eric and Judy. “And now, my new friend, I want you to come walk me back into the house so we may leave these two alone." Spyder stood numbly, gathered his sweat suit and shoes, and followed Astra from the room, mesmerized by the sway of her near naked hips and rear. Judy chuckled as she thought the poor shnook was a goner. He had no chance of ever withstanding Astra's wiles. She turned her attention back to Eric. He slowly leaned forward until his lips met hers in a slow, tentative kiss. After a moment, she pulled back, looked him in the eyes and smiled. Then she stood and held out her hand. “Time for the showers, Eric. Nice and hot for me and another cold one for you, I'm afraid." **** Two mornings later, Spyder was convinced he was in heaven. Every single piece of computer equipment he'd asked for had mysteriously arrived during the night and was now stacked in boxes along the large conference table. He sat there, sipping a cup of coffee and munching on a strip of bacon, picturing in his mind the steps he needed to take to get it all unpacked and organized. He turned his gaze to the large cherry computer workstation, a piece of furniture that hadn't been there the night before. He had completely spaced on the need for something to put all this gear on and yet, almost by magic, somehow, it had appeared. It was perfect for his needs and exactly matched the rest of the furniture in the conference center. There was even a very nice leather executive desk chair with built in lumbar support, adjustable height, swivel base, and casters. Finishing his bacon and coffee, Spyder got to work. With Eric's help, he soon had all the boxes unpacked and began hooking up all the equipment. Soon, the computer tower was in place, connected to its wireless keyboard and optical mouse combination, as well as the thirty-two inch liquid crystal display monitor. The high capacity laser printer and the high resolution color laser printer were both up and functioning, tied into the network by their own internal system interface cards so they could be used not only by Spyder, but by the others as well.

Man, this sucker is fast. Dual four and a half gigahertz processors with a prototype one gigahertz bus and over two gigabytes of RAM, two one hundred sixty gigabyte disk drives for data storage, plus an optical drive array for fast access to information stored on CD-ROMs. With virtual sole use of the T1 line, he wasn't surfing the web, he was flying it! Checking the effectiveness of the firewalls the government had in place, he went to a few of his favorite hacker sites to grab some of the latest tools for hacking and cracking. He quickly configured some watchdog software to watch his own back trail in case someone got too curious about what he was doing, along with some special firewalls of his own to mask his system from the net at large. Just as he was set to start his first assault on a government system just to test their security, Spyder was rudely brought back to reality by someone pulling him out of his chair by his ear! “Ow!” he yelled, scrambling to his feet. "I have been calling you for dinner for the last twenty minutes.” Astra stood there, still holding his ear. “You have been in here mumbling to yourself all day.” Letting go and seeing the bruise forming on his ear, she leaned forward and kissed the bruise. At the same time, she extended her empathic healing senses and eased away the damage she had done. “There, all better. Now let's go eat." Spyder spent all of dinner raving about the new computer system, oblivious to the amused expressions on the faces of the other three. He was starting to explain about the system tests he had planned for after dinner, when Eric reminded him that after dinner was reserved for the gym and swimming. When Spyder started begging to be excused, Astra said, “All work and no play have made Spyder a skinny— what is the word? Oh, yes—nerd. Now eat your vegetables and go work out.” Amazingly, Spyder ate all his vegetables without a word. **** By the time Spyder reached the beach, he was glad they had made him work out in the gym. His back was stiff from sitting all day in that chair. The exercise had been just what he'd needed to loosen his back. He could see Lady Astra and Judy were swimming over in the deep part of the lake, a region still off limits to him. Eric was getting out of his own sweats as Spyder waded into the water and began his inept but improving thrashing through the water. **** Judy was pleased to see how well Spyder had integrated himself into the group. While she didn't pretend to understand anything he said about the computer system or how it operated, she could see he was going to be of tremendous help. At least he would be if he survived the evening. "Astra, do you think Spyder is ready for this? I mean, he's so naïve and young and he already worships you. I know you hate swim suits, but is he really ready for you in all your glory?" "Judy, when will you all accept it is just skin? Nudity is natural and means nothing. And I am wearing the silly excuse for a bottom.” Astra floated on her back as she continued. “Look how easily Eric adjusted to my preferences. I think you misjudge young Spyder." Even Astra was surprised by Spyder's reaction. When he saw her wading out of the lake, like Venus rising, he turned bright red and fled, leaving his sweats behind. Astra saw the look in Judy's eyes that could only mean ‘I told you so'. Even Eric was shaking his head as he watched the lad vanish through the gym and back into the house. Astra slipped into her robe and went in, as well. "That was poorly done. I could have told her he wasn't ready for that,” Eric said, sadly. “He's still very green when it comes to women and he already has more than a bit of a crush on her."

Judy nodded her head. “I tried to tell her that he wasn't ready for it. For all her experience with humans, I don't think much of it was with young nerds.” Taking Eric's hand, she said, “Would you mind if we went in as well? I'm worried about Spyder and I think he could use a big brother about now." They gathered up their belongings, plus Spyder's abandoned clothes, and left the lake area. Entering the house, they found Astra sitting in the kitchen with a truly confused look in her eyes. With a quick squeeze of Eric's hand, Judy went to Astra while Eric went to find Spyder. Astra looked up at Judy as she walked over. “I do not understand. Why did he act that way? He will not even talk to me." Judy sat down next to Astra. “That's what I was trying to say out in the lake. Spyder is young, Astra. He has very little experience with women, if any at all. You are just so overwhelming to him, he can't handle it.” Looking at the AEthereal, she added, “Give it some time and he'll come around. Eric will talk with him." Nodding her acceptance if not her understanding, Astra stood. “Very well. I will be gone for a few days.” Astra reached out and took Judy's hand in her own. “You and I have a connection, Judy. Should you need me, just think about me really hard and tell me I am needed. I will join you immediately.” Astra stood quietly for a moment. “If you think it would help, perhaps you should tell Spyder the truth about me." Judy thought about it and then replied, “It may very well come to that." Astra nodded and then turned and slowly walked to her room and closed the door behind her. **** Eric found Spyder in the conference room, staring at the computer monitor. “Say, kid, do you need someone to talk to?" Spyder turned to look at Eric. His eyes were haunted. “Dude, I am so screwed up right now, I can't think straight. She's so incredible and I'm such a geek." Eric sat down next to the confused young man, thinking what a mess human emotions can be, especially in the young. There was no doubt in Eric's mind that Spyder was convinced he was in love with Astra. “She's definitely not like other women, that's for sure. Spyder, there are some things about her I can't tell you. What I can tell you is this. The person we need to find, the person we need your help to find, is a threat to Astra. Right now, we need you to focus on that mission. Find this person for her.” Laying his hand on the boy's shoulder, he added, “Everything else will work out the way it should. If I've learned anything around here, it's that simple truth.” As he turned to leave the room, he looked back at Spyder. “If you need me, I'm available. Just knock on my door." Eric found Judy in the hallway. He held his hand out flat and rocked it from side to side. Judy nodded toward the closed door to Astra's room. “She's going to take off for a couple days. She did say we could tell him everything if we needed to." "Not just yet. I believe he has a right to know, especially since he thinks he's in love with her.” Eric took Judy in his arms and hugged her. Judy held him for a few minutes and then kissed him gently, turned, and slipped into her own bedroom, softly closing the door behind her. **** Spyder wasn't in his room the next morning. Judy looked in the conference room and decided he must have been there all night. “Want something to eat?” When Spyder nodded in agreement while still typing away, she slipped out of the room. When she'd finished fixing him a fried egg sandwich and

glasses of milk and juice, she brought the tray of food into the conference room and set it on the table. She pointed the food out to Spyder and then left him alone. Judy went into the gym and began a full workout. Nothing like strenuous exercise to take your mind off emotional problems, she thought as she pounded the hanging bag. Until such time as Spyder found their quarry, she really had nothing to do except workout and swim. She moved over to the treadmill and soon had it going at a fast jog with a twenty degree incline. She kept that up for almost thirty minutes and then had the machine gradually decrease the incline and the speed. Next, she moved to the Bowflex® for some strength training, especially her back and upper torso. Finally, she wandered over to the lake, stripped off her sweaty clothes, and dove in. After twenty laps around the lake, she stretched out on her towel to just drift. "Are you trying to make the situation worse?” Eric's voice cut through her reverie. “What if Spyder saw you lying here like that?" She propped herself up on one elbow. “Spyder is glued to the computer. I suspect he's been there all night and he barely reacted when I brought him some food a while ago. I figured I was safe enough from him.” Looking at her watch, she added, “Where have you been all this time? I spent two hours in the gym and then swam twenty laps and flaked out here almost thirty minutes ago." "I went for a walk. I found Astra's concealed exit on the far side of the lake and went outside. It's beautiful outside today. The snow stopped and the sky is now that crystal blue without any clouds at all.” He sat down next to her. “There's no wind, either. The snow is heavy on the pines. I watched a rabbit in its winter white fur foraging for food. Also saw some big predator bird high up in the sky but it didn't see the rabbit, so nothing spoiled the moment." "Sounds nice. So what do we do now?” Judy asked, her naked breast pressed against his arm as she snuggled close to him. "We personally, or we as a team? We as a team need to wait for Spyder to find us something. We personally could find something to occupy our time,” Eric said suggestively. "I meant about Spyder,” Judy said, sitting up straight. “And watch the hands!” she added as his hand began to slide upward along her bare leg. “If you think my nudity would be a problem for Spyder right now, think what catching us entangled on the beach would do." Eric sat back. “Point taken. As for the other problem, there really isn't anything we can do right now to sort that out. We just need to give Spyder time to come to grips with his feelings. I think work is the best thing for him right now. In his mind, it gives him a chance to prove his worth to her and since we're dead in the water until we have the information, I don't want to disturb him." **** It was two nights later that Spyder walked out of the conference room looking like death warmed over. He walked to the refrigerator, chugged a quart of milk and then said, “Meeting in the morning.” He then walked into his room, fell across his bed and was asleep instantly. The next morning, Eric and Judy joined Spyder in the conference room. Spyder looked a bit crestfallen when he realized Astra wasn't there, but he hid it well and started his briefing. “I started my search in the Social Security Administration's database. Since everyone now has a Social Security number, I downloaded the records for every number issued to someone born within the dates you specified. I then cross-referenced that list against the Social Security Administration's Death Index, which carried the death information for everyone who has died."

Looking pleased with himself, he continued, “Now that gave me a list of everyone born during that window who was still living. I filtered that list to drop all the females, since you specified a male. Another filter limited the output to Caucasians. Yet another filter to drop all boys born of two parents. I finally filtered it using a place of birth within one hundred fifty miles of Los Angeles. That's a lot of places, but crosschecking the zip code listings from the U.S. Postal Service helped with that. Still gave me a lot of names, though; too many. So I had this bright idea about three yesterday afternoon to sort by mother's occupation and lo and behold, the list dropped to six names for mothers who listed their occupation as actress. "I then started running background checks on the six names. The first guy is a marine stationed in Iraq and he's been there for over ten months. I think we can eliminate him from consideration. "Number two is a career criminal at the age of nineteen. He's been in and out of the juvenile justice system for many years, mostly small stuff. He went big-time with a grand theft auto charge and has been in Folsom prison in California for the past two years. "Number three is now a college student at UCLA majoring in theater. Another wannabe actor, I guess. His expenditures lead me to believe he's gay, though, so I don't think he fits your profile. "Number four is a possible. Done some traveling to the Midwest in the past year. Lots of phone calls to Illinois and Indiana, mostly to small businesses specializing in metal fabrication. "Number five is another possible. Looks like he's enjoying some kind of sabbatical driving across country, no visible source of income, charge records are mostly for food and fuel for his vehicle, a pickup with a camper shell. "That brings us to number six, my prime candidate. Even if I hadn't eliminated the others, I would have liked him. A loner, racist, violence in the form of petty assaults on non-white victims. Up and disappeared eighteen months ago. Never went back to school. No credit history anywhere. His mother is still alive, however, and lives in Modesto, California." Spyder sat down, clearly pleased with the excitement he had caused. Eric and Judy were discussing how to investigate the three names Spyder had uncovered. As he listened, he realized that in all their discussions, he never heard his own name mentioned. “Excuse me, but what about me? What am I supposed to do while you guys are out in California or wherever?" Judy looked at him. “I guess you'll have to stay here with Astra, unless you'd rather go back to Spokane." "If I have a choice, I would rather stay here and play.” He blushed when he realized just how that sounded. “I mean with the computer. Out there, I run the risk of getting busted each time I sit down at a keyboard and here, I have the best system I could design, plus the gym and the lake.” He blushed again. Eric chuckled. “Okay, but before we leave you here, you need to know some things about Astra." Spyder looked at Judy and Eric. “You know, I have noticed some things and kind of let them slide in all the excitement. You told me that Astra wasn't like other women and that made me really think about the weird little things, including how I got here in the first place. I mean, clear across country in the blink of an eye? She's not human, is she? Is she an alien, or what?" Eric nodded at Judy. She then told Spyder all about the AEthereals. He listened without interruption as she explained about the Accord and Humanity First. He didn't even blink when she explained about the Council and their meetings with the other AEthereals. When she finally reached the end of her explanation, Spyder shook his head. “Judy, Eric, I like you guys, but I think you must be on drugs to

have bought this bullshit. Have either of you actually seen a dragon? Hell, for all you know, they might be aliens after all." Oh, Astra, I'm messing this up! I wish you were here! Judy's thought was sharp and clear. What stunned her was the thought that came back to her. Astra was here and she wanted all three of them to come to her private room. It was time they saw her in her true form. "Astra wants us to come to her room now,” Judy relayed to the others. "I suppose she just told you that, huh?” Spyder said. "Actually, she did exactly that. Her species is telepathic,” Judy responded. “Look, Spyder, you wanted proof and she's waiting for us just down the hall. You were right that we've never seen her that way. I, for one, am really looking forward to seeing the real Astra.” Judy stood and started for the door. “Coming?" With more than a little trepidation, the three approached the closed door. Turning the knob and stepping through was harder than Judy expected. Surprise was her first reaction. They were in a huge walk-in closet filled with Astra's clothes, lots of clothes, all in white. At the other end of the closet was another door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it. It was a cavern, just like the ones she'd explored in Washington and North Carolina. The only difference in this one was it had some indirect lighting mounted in out of the way nooks and crannies. They all followed the walkway across the brook that flowed near the cavern entrance and then found themselves climbing a rise. Cresting the rise, they faced Astra, an Astra they had never seen before. Overall, her color was white with a subtle iridescence shifting over her scales like a rainbow. She was a little shy of two hundred feet long; her long, serpentine neck was held up just high enough to be faceto-face with the humans standing on the rise while her tail wrapped near her feet. Her large wings were slightly unfurled to show them to the humans and, once they had all had a look, she folded them along her back and sides. Her large clawed feet were each twenty to twenty-five feet across, with the actual claws extending seven or eight feet. Her huge eyes, silver in color, were each about ten feet in diameter. When she opened her long jaw, she revealed teeth that would have done a T-Rex proud: large, white and very sharp. She swung her head to one side and then exhaled a shaft of blue-white flame. The three humans backed away from the wash of heated air that passed them. A nimbus of soft blue light then surrounded Astra and when it faded, Astra's nude human form remained. She picked up a linen shift and slipped it on, then walked up the rise to the humans. Taking Spyder's shaking hands into her own, she said softly, “The Christ had Thomas, and I have you. Now do you believe what we have told you? And, more importantly, can you still support us in our work?" Spyder nodded his head, too awestruck to speak. Astra said, “We shall have plenty of time to speak over the next few days while these two find our quarry.” Astra nodded at Judy and Eric. “One thing I enjoy after spending time in my natural form is the feel of water against my skin. Would you all care to join me in the lake?"

Chapter 16 Judy and Eric parked their luxury rental car in front of the first address on their list. They had decided to eliminate the other two possibilities before concentrating on Spyder's prime candidate. They doublechecked the address to make sure it was the one Spyder had listed. Getting out of the car in front of the small warehouse, they could hear the sounds of someone working beyond the garage style door. Eric knocked sharply on the sheet metal alongside the door and they heard a muffled “Come on in,” from within. They walked into an area filled with confusion. Sheets of Lexan®, servo motors, batteries, wheels, gears, shafts, aluminum and titanium struts and various other parts were strewn around in wild disarray. Drill presses, bench grinders, saws and toolboxes lined the walls. In the center of the work bay stood a large metal apparition, obviously under construction by the overweight, slovenly youth dressed in ripped jeans, a filthy torn tee shirt, and sneakers. His greasy hair was haphazardly tied back with a rubber band and an unfiltered cigarette dangled from his mouth. "I'm FBI Agent Johansson and this is my partner, Agent Deavers. We're looking for Alan Michael Dawson,” Eric said, holding up his credentials. "Well, you found him. What's the FBI want with me? I haven't done anything wrong.” There was a hint of fear in his voice and, judging from the way his eyes kept darting toward one of the toolboxes, Judy silently wagered they would find a stash of narcotics in there if they were to search it. "It's not a matter of wrong, Mr. Dawson. You took a number of trips to the Midwest recently, plus have been dealing with a number of metal fabrication companies. Would you mind explaining why?” Eric made the request sound reasonable. "Sure, it's no secret. I'm building a battlebot and needed some parts made. Small, independent businesses like those are willing to do the custom work I need without charging a fortune. I went out there to pick up the pieces I'd ordered because shipping can be expensive and increases the likelihood of damage.” He looked at the agents. “Why does the FBI care about that?" "To be honest, we don't. Your movements got picked up in a profile scan we did looking for someone. This visit was merely to eliminate you as a suspect,” Eric explained. "What do you plan to do with this thing?” Judy asked, curious why anyone would spend time and money working on such a thing "Compete, of course.” Seeing their confusion, he added, “There are competitions all over for battling robots. Large companies take part; even the Air Force Academy entered one last year. Sometimes technical schools and colleges build robots as a class project. It's really cool." Thinking Spyder would have loved this guy, they thanked him for his time and left. One down. **** Address number two was a middle-class apartment complex, fitting for the address of the mother of their second possible candidate. A middle-aged woman in a shapeless housecoat opened the door. Judy had seen enough alcoholics in her life to recognize the signs: broken blood vessels in the nose, bloodshot eyes, tremors in the hands, an overall slatternly appearance, bloated body, varicose veins, and the unmistakable aroma of an unwashed body in a too warm apartment. "Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm Special Agent Deavers from the FBI and this is my partner, Special Agent Johansson. Are you,” Judy looked at her notes, “Candi Barr Jamieson?"

"Lord, no one's called me that in twenty years. What the hell do you want?” There was more of a note of resignation than defiance in her tone, as if she always expected life to hand her the short end of the stick. "We'd like to ask you a few questions about your son,” Judy replied. "What's the stupid little shit done now?” the woman responded. “He took off from here a couple months ago, him and that little whore from next door." "Ma'am, we're not aware of any crimes your son may have committed. We would just like to ask him a few questions,” Eric spoke up. “Do you have any idea where he might be?" "Out spending his money on that tramp, that's where he is,” complained the woman, her voice now held a whiny tone that grated on Judy's nerves. "And what money would that be, ma'am?” Eric was remarkably patient with her. "From the insurance. He got hurt at some rock concert and the sponsors paid up real quick to prevent any bad publicity. He took off in his ratty old truck to see the country, he said.” She looked at Judy. “You sure he didn't commit no crime? Why you want to talk with him anyways?” The slurring of her speech showed the woman was already under the influence. Eric spoke up, his baritone voice oozing with charm, “Ms. Jamieson, I was wondering. Back when you were an actress, did you ever know a man named Bryan Bartlett?" She cocked her head to one side, squinting up at Eric. “Say, you're a big one, aren't ya! Name's not familiar, but then none of us used our real names in those films anyway. Think my parents named me Candi Barr?” She shook her head. “My first director decided to call me that, implying I was good to eat.” Seeing the look on Judy's face, she snarled, “I didn't always look like this. I was one hot babe in those days and I made a lot of money in those films. I would still be rich if I'd been smarter about the contracts. I got screwed on the film and the money guys screwed me afterwards over the film, too. That's life,” she said as she took another sizeable drink from the dark tumbler in her hand. "One last question, ma'am. Who was the father of your son? His birth certificate was blank in that respect,” Judy asked. "I was seeing a married man at the time and when he found out I was pregnant, the bastard dumped me.” Anger washed across her face. “He sure paid for that, let me tell you! He sent me monthly support checks up until my boy was five and then he stopped, so I sent copies of all those checks to his wife, along with a picture of my son. She nailed his ass to the wall.” She took another drink. “Of course, I never saw another dime from the son of a bitch, but it was worth it. I met my husband by then and we were happy until a drunk driver put an end to that." "Ma'am, thank you for your time. We appreciate your cooperation,” Eric said as they started to step back from the doorway. As they walked down the driveway, she called out to them. “Hey, if you find that ungrateful little shit and his whore, tell them I said not to come back!" Once back in the car, Judy was livid. “What an advertisement for motherhood she is! I can't say I blame her son leaving and that's without meeting him." Eric replied, “Well, it's obvious her son isn't the one we seek.” He was silent for a moment, and then added, “Thank God for that!" ****

The house in Modesto was an advertisement for middle-class suburbia. It was a small brick residence with shutters and a white picket fence. It looked freshly painted and the grass had been raked after being mowed. A large orange tabby cat lay sunning itself on the porch, secure enough in its position that it didn't even stir as they stepped up to the door. As the door chimes played ‘Be It Ever So Humble', Judy looked at Eric with a grin on her face. The woman who answered the door had aged gracefully. In fact, she barely looked in her late-twenties, even though both agents knew her correct age was thirty-seven. She obviously spent a lot of time taking care of herself, and the tasteful clothing and makeup reinforced the impression. Her smile showed perfect teeth, and in a melodious alto voice, she asked, “May I help you?" "I hope so, ma'am. I'm Special Agent Deavers of the FBI and this is my partner, Special Agent Johansson.” They both handed the woman their credentials, which she then looked over very carefully, and then returned. "My goodness, this is a surprise! Won't you come in?” she asked as she held open the screen door in invitation. She showed the agents into a parlor and offered them something to drink. “I have iced tea, and coffee would only take a moment." "No, ma'am, that's not necessary. Just for the record, were you once an actress in Los Angeles under the name Veronica?” Judy asked. She sat very still, all the color drained from her face. Softly, she said, “Please, no one knows about those days. Could we meet somewhere else to talk about this?” Her eyes were pleading with them. “There's a small coffee shop about three blocks from here. Can we meet there in thirty minutes?" As the two agents walked to their car, a big yellow school bus pulled up and disgorged a large group of small children. One little girl, blonde hair in pigtails, ran up the walkway toward the woman calling out ‘Mommy!’ The woman ushered the little girl inside and closed the door. True to her word, the woman walked into the coffee shop thirty minutes later. She sat down in the booth facing them. “Thank you for understanding. I knew Mandy would be home in a few moments and I didn't want to be talking about that period of my life with her around.” She paused. “My husband doesn't know I was ever in that film. In fact, I'm shocked anyone knows since the film was only released once almost twenty years ago. I remember being very happy a couple years later when they had a fire at their studio and lost all that film." She sipped the cup of coffee the agents had ordered before she arrived. “I really thought that was all behind me,” she said softly. Judy asked, “We're not here to expose your past. When you were acting, did you know a man named Bryan Bartlett?" She took a shaky breath. “Yes, he was the film editor on my one and only film. And, for a very brief time, he was my lover.” Another sip of coffee, she added, “Look, I'm not especially proud of what I did in those days. I was barely eighteen and had stars in my eyes. A friend told me it was a way to make money and maybe get some film credit. She was so wrong. It was horrible and nothing like I had expected. I felt cheap and degraded and humiliated." "You really don't need to explain,” Judy said quietly. "Maybe I do, just to get it off my chest. I've never been able to talk about it, ever. The first big shock was that it wasn't a straight porn film. It was an S&M lesbian film, and I had to play the submissive. Hey, I had fantasized about being with another woman; what woman hasn't? But that one night cured me of that forever. Maybe that's why I gave in to Bryan's advances; to make myself feel like a real

woman again.” Tears were now running down her face. “When I found out I was pregnant, I went to look for him but he was gone. He'd been fired and no one knew where he'd gone. When my time came, I put the baby up for adoption and walked away from that life.” Her chin was up now, and her eyes were calm. Eric spoke up. “For the record, you had no further contact with Bryan Bartlett after that?" She shook her head no. He continued, “You have no knowledge of what became of your son after you gave him up for adoption?" She hesitated. It was enough for Judy to spot. “He came to you, didn't he?" "Yes, about a year and a half ago. He wanted to know where he came from. I told him why I had put him up for adoption and, when he asked, I told him who his father is. It was our only meeting.” The tears threatened to come back. “He was so cold, emotionless. As he left, he called me a whore.” Now sobbing out of control, the woman buried her face in her hands. Judy signaled Eric to slip out of the booth and leave them alone. Once he quietly left, Judy moved around and held the woman as she cried. "Your secret is safe. No one will ever bring this up again,” Judy reassured the woman. “Now dry your eyes, go into the ladies’ room and freshen your makeup. Then go home to your daughter and forget we ever came here.” Judy helped the woman to her feet and pushed her gently toward the restrooms. Catching Eric's eye, she nodded toward the door to the parking lot. As they drove away, Eric said, “I wonder how Spyder managed to miss an adoption record. Had we known about that, we never would have bothered her." "No, that's not true, Eric. We had to know for sure whether Bartlett was the child's father and she was the only one who knew that answer. She'll probably have a few rough days but she will get over it.” Judy looked out the window. “You know, I almost admire her. She bounced back from hell and made a good life for herself. Too bad more people aren't that strong." Eric could only agree. “I guess we need to head back home. I don't want to discuss this over open phone lines, especially cell phones." "I guess you're right, though it's too bad. I was looking forward to a night in the Sheraton,” Judy said as she rubbed her hand along his leg. **** Spyder was mumbling to himself as he sat at the computer. How could he have missed something so elementary as an adoption? Hacking his way into the Social Security records again, he called up the records for the remaining candidate. There was nothing there to indicate David Allen Murphy had been adopted. The original birth certificate had been used when the account was activated. Taking the name of the hospital from the birth certificate, Spyder then began working his way into the hospital records. This was iffy; most hospitals never converted their older records to their computer systems but he was fortunate. This particular one was progressive and had adopted computerized record keeping in 1980. Hmmm, the baby was kept at the hospital for two weeks before finally being released to the state child welfare agency. Getting into their records was a breeze. Ah, here he is. Placed in a foster home at one month but returned to the system at two years old because of neglect. Placed in another foster home right away but returned to the system at age six because the foster family was jailed for welfare fraud. Spent three years in a state orphanage until put in another foster home at nine. Ran away, claiming physical abuse. A different foster home every year until age sixteen. Petitions to the state for information about birth

parents finally granted when he turned eighteen. That matches the information given by the mother during her interview. Just for the sake of being thorough, Spyder accessed the databases belonging to the various police departments. Oh, yes, here we go. Murphy had a rap sheet. Juvenile offenses involving assaults, usually non-white students at whatever school he was attending. Spyder printed copies of the mug shots and fingerprint records. Big, good-looking kid. Of course, the black eye and bruises along the jaw in the mug shot didn't do much for the photograph, those will have long since faded, but not the anger in his eyes. Here's a kid filled to the top with a seething resentment. Abandoned by his parents to a system that didn't take care of him, he obviously hated everyone. Taking his description and photographs, Spyder then accessed the FBI surveillance records for the various white supremacist groups. Bingo. Murphy showed up at an Aryan Nation camp about thirteen months ago, then started appearing at other camps in the movement until about eleven months previously, when the last photograph of him was taken. In the picture, he was leaning against a split rail fence, wearing an oversized fatigue jacket, talking with Bryan Bartlett. Okay, so they had hooked up about six months before the Humanity First strikes. Judging from Mayfield's comment, they were still in contact during the second round of bombings. They were not together in November when Bartlett was killed. They had to meet sometime between Bartlett's escape from the Missouri manhunt and that shootout in West Virginia. He hasn't shown up at any of the camps. He has no known friends and no family. So, where the hell is he?

Chapter 17 David Alan Murphy was camped in the mountains of west Maryland feeling very pleased with himself. He had managed to work his way here from West Virginia without once coming to anyone's attention, but then he'd become an expert at hitchhiking when he went from southern California to Missouri in search of his father. That had been some search! It had taken months to track down his mother in that suburban ranch house. Talk about white bread; she couldn't wait to get rid of him, as if she was afraid he would contaminate her precious life. And that drivel she'd spewed about giving him up so he could have a better life. What a crock! She had a great life while his sucked. She had at least told him who his father was and where she thought he might be found. Then he had to get out to Missouri and that took almost a month. Once there, he had to get accepted into the camp. That really wasn't all that hard since all he had to do was beat the crap out of some black dude outside one of the local bars. A couple of the Aryan Nation members hustled him to one of their trucks and took him out to one of the camps before the police arrived on the scene. Once there, he started asking about Bryan Bartlett. The head of the camp asked David why he was searching for Bartlett and became real sympathetic when David admitted Bartlett was his father. One of the brotherhood members took him to another camp where his father was hiding out. It was strange to meet him at last. Bartlett had listened to David explain about how he'd searched for him after getting Bartlett's name. Bartlett looked him over and saw enough resemblance that he'd finally believed David's story was true. They started to hang out together and get to know one another. Bartlett took his newfound son hunting and started to teach him all the wood lore his own father had taught him so long ago. David was a quick study and possessed a natural gift of eye-hand coordination that made him a superb shot with either a rifle or a handgun. He also had Bartlett's flair for tracking and stalking. They soon made an unbeatable team hunting for game, bringing something back every time they went out. Finally, one day out in the woods, Bartlett told David about the family history and how his own father had been killed. David really wasn't convinced; in fact, he really thought Bryan Bartlett was slightly crazy. But he kept this opinion to himself, enjoying the simple pleasure of being part of a family for the first time in his short life. Then came the day when Bartlett started out on his mission to expose the government's role in covering up the existence of the dragons. For some reason, he wouldn't let David come with him. Bartlett came back after the raid on the farmhouse. He was filled with the righteous anger of the deluded, ranting about how the government had executed those men to serve the dragons. He found some others to help him, two men who didn't care who or what they were after, as long as they could blow something up. When they all disappeared and Mayfield was captured, Bartlett had called the camp to speak to David. Following Bartlett's directions, David had met him in that rest stop in West Virginia. Bartlett had given him a package with the files and the video ‘proof’ of everything, along with the rifle Bartlett said had belonged to Bartlett's father, his own grandfather, the one eaten by the dragons. Then Bartlett had told him to take off. David had still been there, however, when the state police arrived and trapped his father in the visitor's center. He had also watched as that FBI bitch had shot his father down like a mad dog. He didn't give a damn about whether dragons existed or not. He only wanted one thing and that was to have that federal bitch in the sights of his gun or her throat under his hunting knife. He'd gone through the files his father had left him and found he'd done some research on the two federal officers, including the fact they seemed to be living in some special hideaway located under a mountain. This

mountain. If they were living underground, there had to be some place for air to go in, and if it could get in, then so could he. It took three days, but he finally found the opening. He followed the twisting passages until he reached a wider passage. Water ahead; he could feel the increased humidity in the air. Sounds from in front of him warned him that he was approaching the area where his quarry lay. He eased down to the ground, abandoning his pack in the passageway, keeping only his large skinning knife, his 9mm pistol, and the family rifle with the Bushnell scope. He eased the rifle and scope around the final outcrop of rock and scanned the underground lake area. Four targets; two male and two female. That federal bitch was just leaving through a doorway to another area. Both males were still in the water; the other female was leaving the lake. He looked her over through the eyepiece. Damn, she was fine and naked as the day she was born. Too bad he couldn't keep her alive for later. He sighted the crosshairs of the scope on the back of her head and caressed the trigger. The sharp report echoed in the underground chamber as he swung the rifle toward the larger of the two men. Just as the big agent reached the shore and started to drag himself on shore, David aligned the scope on the center mass of the man's back and fired. He then shifted aim to the skinny redhead flailing through the water. Aiming toward the center of the activity, he fired and was pleased to see the body lie still in the water and then slowly sink. David hurried around the lake and eased open the door his real target had gone through moments before. A gymnasium. He slowly walked through the exercise equipment to the other doorway. A house. The rifle would be useless in here. He leaned it against a treadmill and removed the 9mm pistol from the shoulder holster. He pulled the slide back to chamber a round, and then eased through the doorway, alert for any sound or movement. **** Judy had just closed the door from the lake when she heard the first shot. She spun back to the window in time to see Astra's body fall to the ground. She watched Eric start pulling himself ashore, when another shot rang out and he was hit. She also saw poor Spyder hit. Then she turned and started to run for her room. 'Judy!’ The thought rang in her mind. ‘Head for the cavern!’ Judy ran as hard as she could for her own room instead. ‘No! The cavern!’ Shaking her head in rage and frustration, she ran through the door to Astra's room. She had just started through the doorway when a bullet smashed into the doorframe near her head. She sprinted through the second door, over the bridge and up the rise. **** David ran after her. He threw open the door and found himself in a large closet. He quickly searched the room for his quarry. Nothing. David opened the second door. A cavern. He caught a glimpse of his target just going over a ridge ahead of him. He snapped another shot off just to keep her from stopping and setting up a trap. He thundered over the bridge and up the ridge, laughing in exhilaration at the chase. Shooting those folks had been fun! When he reached the top of the rise, he was stunned into almost immobility. His quarry was there, but she was standing next to something his rational mind said was absolutely impossible. His father had told him, but David had not believed until now. He aimed the gun toward the woman anyway. She wouldn't escape this time, no matter what happened. As he started to pull the trigger, the dragon shifted its leg in front of the human to shield her from the bullets. 'Stop, human'! The voice thundered in his mind. His hands went numb and he dropped the gun. ‘Look at me!’ He fell to his knees, his eyes locked on those of the dragon. ‘Where are the films?’ His mind

turned automatically to his pack in passageway. ‘Ah, I know that space. It is indeed over, then, with the exception of what to do with you.' Turning her attention to the weeping Judy, Astra gently informed her both men still lived. She had already limited the extent of their injuries using her healing abilities; in fact, both were even now trying to find Judy. They would be coming through the doorway right about ... now. The two men, covered in their own blood, staggered through the door, Spyder was staggering under Eric's weight, but they plowed ahead gamely, Eric clutching his own semiautomatic handgun. At Astra's mental command, they stopped. Judy moved around the ridge to join the two men, running her hands over Eric's body to reassure herself that he wasn't dead and then doing the same with young Spyder. Then the three of them moved up next to the kneeling David Murphy. Once Judy picked up the gun Murphy had dropped, Astra shifted back to her human form. "I killed you!” Murphy wailed. "Silly man, you can't kill us with those puny weapons.” Astra shook her head. “What shall we do with him? Unlike my brother, I cannot just kill him in cold blood. We have the film and records now. What further danger could he be?" Eric smiled. “I have a solution: the federal mental hospital, St Elizabeth's. We'll inter him there for the rest of his days. He can rant about dragons all he wants and all he'll get in return is a heavier dose of medication." **** The Oval Office was once again the selected meeting place for briefing the President on the outcome of the case. The President was stunned to learn that both Eric Johansson and another were shot, although Astra assured him they were both fine. David Murphy was now a guest for life in St. Elizabeth's solitary confinement wing. The film and records had been delivered to the Council and Ebon had announced he was satisfied. The President asked the two agents what they wanted to do now that their assignment had been finished. Astra spoke before the agents could reply. “The Council desires these two remain in our service. They shall serve as both unofficial representatives from the Council to you and from you to the Council." The President looked at the two agents and nodded his head. “This is certainly acceptable to me and, as I can see from their expressions, also acceptable to both of them.” The President stood and shook the hands of the two agents. “I wish you well in this new position and you'll have my continued support." Astra also shook his hand, then the three vanished in a field of blue light.

Chapter 18 Two months had passed since the film was turned over to Ebon, but the time wasn't wasted. Judy and Eric had begun exploring their relationship, even going so far as spending a weekend at a bed and breakfast to get away by themselves. Spyder kept himself busy with his computer system and was even beginning to feel more comfortable around Astra, though he still had a crush on her. He had begun to research all mention of dragons over the internet. Things were relatively quiet during this time period. That, however, was about to change. "Astra, I have a question,” Eric began one evening as they ate dinner. “You've said there have only been a few sporadic conflicts between man and the AEthereals. If that's the case, why does your species have battle wings?" Astra got very quiet for a few moments before she began to answer him. “I have told you that we spread out among the stars in the ages since the asteroid strike here on Earth, and I have also told you about the Paradise Planet we found that seemed the most ideal for us, outside of this world. About six hundred of your years ago, the Paradise Planet was invaded by a space traveling species. Rather than attempt to coexist with us, they began a program of extermination. As a pair of AEthereals approached their initial landing site, they attacked them with energy weapons. These weapons bounced off our scales and the pair responded by flaming the invaders in the open. The pair then destroyed the landing vehicle through the concentrated application of their flames. The resulting detonation of the ship killed one of the pair and badly injured the other. The surviving AEthereal ported to his home world, where his life was saved by a team of Whites, an effort that took almost twenty years." Astra took another sip of her hot chocolate. “More ships came, and the battles became very fierce. In the face of their aggression, we have had to develop cooperative techniques for fighting that make use of all our abilities, from flying and breathing fire to teleporting in and out of battle.” She paused, sipped her chocolate, and then continued. “At first, the invaders seem to have an advantage over us since they used a weapon like none we had ever seen. It seemed to focus some sort of energy that passed right through our scales and destroyed our internal organs. Once we began to port directly over them without warning, it seemed to offset that advantage as long as our stay was extremely brief." "Sounds like some form of microwave beam to me. I'm not sure there is an effective defense other than what you've described, extremely limited exposure,” Eric responded. “How long did the war last?" "It is not yet over. Even now, our battle wings are trying to sweep the planet clean of the invaders,” Astra sadly stated. “The death toll on both sides has been very high. They still try to reinforce from space, but we began destroying their ships before they could enter the atmosphere.” A small smile touched her lips. “I am sure they are astounded by the sheer numbers of us that have flown against them over the last few centuries, since they can't seem to locate any sort of population centers. It is because, of course, we are staging from yet another world and from deep caverns within the planet that have no external access." "You've been fighting for six hundred years! No wonder the Blacks are so aggressive,” Judy added. “We've long believed there were other species out there in space. It has been one of our most popular fixations for the last fifty years. What are they like?" "You already know them. Your popular legends are true, Judy. The crash at Roswell was caused by the interception of one of their ships by a Brown, who was patrolling this world. These small gray creatures have been responsible for the various cattle mutilations and some of the abductions reported in your media,” Astra replied. “In fact, I imagine their existence is the subject of yet another of the folders passed along to your President."

"You patrol the world? How have you eluded detection?” Eric asked. "With the advent of your modern technology, most patrols are done using astral senses. When there is a need, such as when one of the Grays’ attack ships appear, one of us will port to the attacking ship and destroy it. All this should not surprise you, though. Defense of the planet is part of our responsibilities under the AEthereal Accord. I am sure your surveillance systems have detected us many times but, in accordance with the Accord, the sightings are either discounted, or attributed to some other phenomena." "Kind of makes you wonder what else our government has been hiding from the public, doesn't it?” Spyder wondered aloud. "Astra, do you think it would be possible for our two species to ever cooperate in the exploration of other worlds?” Judy asked. “As easily as you've taken us places, I can't help but wonder what we could learn from each other. It seems a shame for us to risk lives in traveling using shuttles, when we could instantly travel to another earthlike planet." "Perhaps that may be possible some day, even if it is covert.” Astra smiled. “There is this television show you have I like that involves a similar premise. Through the use of an ancient alien device they call a Stargate, a group of military personnel and scientists travel around the galaxy seeking knowledge and new technology to defend Earth from another group of rampaging aliens." "I know that show! I like it, too. I can see the parallels since, on the show, the existence of the Stargate is unknown to the general populace,” Spyder interjected. “The real drawback to portal travel using the AEthereals would be the small number of people they could take. You've taken two of us at once. How many could you take through a portal?" "It does take a great deal of energy to travel to another planet, so I would suspect we could only carry one or two people at a time. But should such an expedition be desired, we could take as many as you desired, since all we would need is more AEthereals to do the transporting. We have also experimented in combining our portals in order to pass large objects over long distances." "The average AEthereal is a pretty large object in itself, Astra, especially the Blacks.” Eric chuckled. "That is true enough, but we have been using small asteroids as weapons against the Grays while they are still in space. I imagine it is rather disconcerting to those on the ships to suddenly have a mile-wide asteroid appear in front of their ship while they are under full acceleration.” She smacked her hands together in a nonverbal explanation of the results of such a maneuver. “Using the same technique, we could easily transfer a substantial amount of cargo for your exploration team." "Astra, with your permission, I'd like to prepare a memorandum for the President outlining this discussion with an eye toward eventual joint exploration. I'd also like to tell him about the war you're waging. Perhaps our scientists could come up with some way to help you defeat the Grays,” Eric spoke eagerly. "I have no objections to you doing so. Eric, I expect you to tell your President anything you see or hear. If I have knowledge of something I feel your species does not need to know, then I will not tell either of you about it,” Astra stated. "Astra, you've already told us a way to fight your kind using microwave weapons,” Judy stated. "I know I did, and that was not a decision I made lightly. I had two reasons for being open with you about it. First of all, I hope your scientists can find some means of defeating this alien weapon that could be adapted for use by the AEthereals. My second reason is much more personal. I have come to know your kind, especially the two of you. While I cannot imagine a war between our species, I believe

you have the right to be able to defend yourselves without resorting to atomic weapons should the unthinkable happen. If they were used, we will all lose because this planet would become unlivable and that would mean the end of my kind, since we must bear our young here." **** Two days later, the President requested a private meeting with Astra, Judy and Eric. They ported into the Oval Office late that night and were greeted by the President. After getting them all seated, he distributed beverages, hot chocolate to Astra, and coffee to the agents and for himself, and sat down opposite Astra. "Lady Astra, thank you for coming here tonight. I wanted to talk to you about the memo Agent Johansson sent me detailing both the war between the AEthereals and the Grays, as well as the provocative idea of joint exploratory missions.” He watched her carefully as he spoke, searching for some nuance of expression to ascertain her feelings. Unfortunately, Astra was both too wise to let her feelings show and too different a species. The President tended to forget this persona was merely a mask Astra wore when dealing with humans. "I have asked the top scientists from the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency to look into a possible defense against a projected offensive microwave beam. Of course, I had to listen to them tell me that such a weapon didn't and couldn't exist, but I finally got them to accept it as a hypothetical situation. It would help if we could actually use one of the weapons to reverse engineer it and see how it works. Once we knew that, we might be able to come up with a defense that could be portable and adaptable enough to be of use to the AEthereals." Astra replied, “I will have to bring such an idea to the Council. They will be angry over the fact I have told you of the weapon, since it means you now know of a way to combat our kind. I will explain my reasoning to them. It will fall to my brother's battle wings to retrieve such a weapon for you, should the Council agree." The President nodded his understanding. “It's much the same with us, you know. As President, I may negotiate an agreement with another head of state, but only Congress can actually approve and ratify such an agreement." "Sir, did that apply to the AEthereal Accord as well?” Judy asked. "Well, no. That Accord was written as an Executive Order and is signed by each President within moments of taking office. There's a document autograph hunters would kill for! It's been signed by every President from Dwight Eisenhower forward.” The President stared for a moment at the two agents. “I suppose you two have guessed the Grays are the subject of another of the folders. That knowledge is bound by the same oath and conditions you agreed to at the beginning of this assignment.” Seeing their nods of agreement, the President turned his attention back to Astra. "Lady Astra, I cannot tell you how excited I became reading about the possibilities of joint exploration. Space exploration would no longer be limited to just the young and the military. We could actually send the real experts, regardless of age, or even health! I also believe such increased interaction between our species would serve to establish bonds of trust and friendship between us." "I agree, Mr. President. There would have to be some very careful restrictions placed on such a venture, including the need for secrecy about the truth of the AEthereals. My people would be in human persona unless there was some absolute need, such as for protection of the group. The humans would have to disappear from the public eye in such a way, there would be a plausible explanation for the media; otherwise, we would risk exposure of the venture."

"It sounds to me like we agree in basic principle. I'll have to bring in certain key members of my staff to move this along. I'll hold off doing so until you have gained approval of the idea from your Council." Judy spoke up. “Astra, I just thought of something else the AEthereal could do for humans. Just as you treated both Eric and myself, you could help with the treatment of injury and diseases." Astra looked startled at the thought. “That is true, Judy. I had never taken it that next step. That could easily be used as a means to help humanity accept us as partners on this world." **** Astra's request for a meeting of the Council was quickly approved for a week later. Surprising her human companions, the approval included an invitation for the entire group to attend the Council meeting. Spyder was very nervous about meeting the other AEthereals. "Don't worry, Spyder. They'll be in human form,” Judy said. "How can you be so sure?” Spyder's voice betrayed his nervousness. "The chamber is too small to hold one dragon Astra's size, let alone sixteen of them,” Eric replied. "We're meeting the full Council? Before, we've only dealt with just four!” Judy was excited about meeting the others. Astra walked over to them. “I requested a meeting of the full Council in order to discuss the proposed assistance in our war with the Grays and the concept of joint exploration. This decision will affect the relationship between our species forever.” Looking at each of them, she approved of their appearance. Each was dressed in their best and most conservative clothes. The months of steady diet and exercise had put muscle mass on Spyder, necessitating yet another new wardrobe. “Are we ready?" "Um, how are we going to get there? And where is there, anyway?” Spyder asked. "We are going to the Council chamber, which is located under the Alps in Austria,” Judy explained. “Because there are three of us, Astra will have help from another White Council member in opening the portal. We just walk through, like on Stargate but without the twisting wormhole and the intense cold. It's just like stepping from one room to another." Spyder's prominent Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed in apprehension when the blue shimmer of an opening portal appeared in the room. Astra told Eric and Judy to step through and they seemed to vanish into thin air as they passed into the light. Astra took Spyder's hand in her own and they stepped forward. Spyder looked around in awe at the huge stone chamber and the circle of stone thrones in the center. The chamber was pleasantly warm from the fire burning in the massive hearth. His inspection of the large painting was interrupted as Astra stepped forward to greet another woman in white. "Etienne, my daughter, it is so good to see you again. It has been far too long,” Astra said, her hand reaching out to touch the face of the other woman. "There is no time right now, Mother. The others will be here momentarily. Please have your friends stand in the center of the circle for the moment.” Etienne's voice was soft and musical, her appearance very similar to Astra's. As Astra sat in the east throne and Etienne in the northeast, the three humans stood in the center facing north. As if knowing the precise moment they were in position, shimmers of blue light filled the remaining fourteen thrones. The Council had arrived. Ebon was in his customary north throne, a rare smile on his face.

"Greetings, Eric and Judy. This must be Spyder.” Ebon's arrogant expression dismissed the young man from consideration. “On behalf of the council and in the name of all AEthereals, we extend our thanks for your elimination of the recent threat to us. For such a young species, you still managed to surprise us a time or two in the process. We also welcome your continued service to us as representatives for your species and a liaison to your government." By previous agreement among themselves, Eric spoke for the group. “We are glad we could help you and are honored by the opportunity to serve both our peoples in this manner." "Before I introduce the Council, let me explain about how we are structured,” Ebon began. “There are eight separate branches within the AEthereals. We are divided into color groups. The males are Black, Brown, Blue and Green, while the females are White, Gold, Red or Orange. We are genetically programmed to fulfill certain specific functions associated with our coloring. Blacks, Browns, Reds and Oranges are programmed to be warriors. This means half the color groups, and thus, half the species itself, are programmed for defense of the whole. The remainder is divided into more peaceful pursuits. The Whites are our healers. The Golds are the chroniclers of our history, gifted with eidetic memories. The Blues serve as our philosophers and scientists, studying the interactions of nature and matter. The Greens are our dreamers and explorers, finding new worlds for us to explore and settle." After making sure they understood, he continued. “The Council consists of two members from each color group, selected by the membership of their respective group. The Blacks are represented by myself and Negron, Guardian of the Paradise Planet.” Negron, seated in the northwest throne, was also dressed in black and was fully as large and intimidating as Ebon. “The Blues have chosen Azure and Indigo as their representatives.” Azure, seated in the north-northwest throne and Indigo, seated in the west-northwest throne, were both clad in flowing blue robes. Neither was as large as the two Blacks or the two Browns, but they were still far larger than Eric. “You have met my mate, Hecate. The other Red is Scarlett, Negron's mate.” Hecate was as lush and provocative as ever as she sprawled in the western throne. Scarlett, seated in the southwest throne, was almost as overwhelming. The west-southwest throne and the south-southwest throne held stunning women clad in orange leathers, the colors evoking the memory of autumn leaves. “Sierra and Terra represent the female warriors charged with protecting our explorations to other worlds." Gesturing across the chamber at the south throne. “You have met Grendal, Commander of one of the Battle Wings. The other Brown, seated in the southeast throne, is his twin brother, Brundig. Do not be dismayed if you cannot tell them apart because none of us can, either.” There was an amused chuckle from the other Council members. “The Greens have sent us two of their greatest explorers, Forrest and Celadon.” Forrest, seated in the south-southeast throne nodded as his name was mentioned, while Celadon, seated in east-southeast next to Astra, waved his hand in a slight gesture of hello. "The Whites are represented by my sister, Astra, and her daughter, Etienne. Etienne is the master healer on Paradise.” Ebon held his hand out to the oldest appearing AEthereal seated next to him. “We are honored to have Amber here as senior representative from the Golds, for not only is she reputed to be the eldest of the AEthereals, she is also my mother. Assisting her is Oura, my other sister." Judy, Eric, and Spyder politely greeted the various Council members who made an effort to speak to them. Spyder was blushing furiously at something Hecate had loudly whispered to Scarlett. Terra, who sat between them, covered her own smile with her hand at Hecate's ribald comment. Ebon spoke again. “Decisions made by the Council are accepted as binding on the AEthereals as a whole. As a result, we are very careful in those deliberations. As Council Chairman, I do not vote unless there is a tie, which is rare considering there are fifteen other members. It is only when there is an abstention by one or more members that a tie can result, or if the vote divides evenly among three different groups. We all join in the discussions and they can sometimes become very heated."

Eric cleared his throat. “Ebon, excuse me for interrupting, but may I ask a question?” At Ebon's gesture of assent, Eric spoke. “I recall Astra saying that at one point, all the color groups except the Whites were for war with humanity. That would imply the Council stood fourteen to two against us, yet the Whites prevailed. Why?" Ebon smiled at his sister as he said, “While not all Council decisions must be unanimous, we did feel humanity's fate must be decided in that manner. Astra and Etienne were very persuasive in their arguments, with Astra offering her own existence as surety. Thankfully, you prevailed and we did not have to face that terrible option.” Seating himself finally in his throne, he looked at his sister. “Astra, you called this meeting. The floor is yours." Astra stood before her throne, her hands clasped in front of her. “I have begun discussions with the humans regarding the war with the Grays. They believe it is possible to find a defense against the energy weapon the Grays have been using against us." Negron shot to his feet. “You took it upon yourself to tell the humans of a way to kill us? Have you become so besotted by these creatures that you betray your own?" Astra waited for the commotion to die down a bit before she quietly explained. “No, Negron, my reason for this action lies within my role as a Healer. Unless humanity had some means to fight us, their only recourse would be to use atomic weapons. Widespread use of those weapons would poison the planet, ruining it for both our species. The AEthereal would no longer have a place to birth their young and that would mean the end of us. Furthermore, the act of exposing our vulnerability to them has created a level of trust that would not have existed without the admission." The Council argued back and forth for almost an hour before everyone grudgingly admitted the decision Astra had made had been the right one. “She should have asked us first!” was the only sticking point argued by Negron. Amber stood and silence fell on the chamber. “When we appointed Astra as the liaison to the humans, we gave her a wide latitude in how to perform that function. Implicit in that decision was the understanding she would occasionally have to make decisions of great importance without time to consult with us all. Her decisions have been, without fail, correct, for she knows the humans better than any of us. I suspect this time will prove to be the same. I give her my full and unqualified support." "Thank you, Mother,” Astra said. “If I may continue?” At the nods from around the Council, she spoke, “The humans have said the ability to study an actual weapon would accelerate their research into a defense against it. I have come to ask the Council to direct the capture of such a weapon for transfer to the humans for study." Ebon spoke. “Well, sister, I guess if they know of the existence of such a weapon, actually giving them one will not make much of a difference in the grand scheme of things. I have seen how well humans go from an idea to practical application in the mere blink of an eye. After all, in the time it takes a fledgling to master portals, humans have gone from traveling on animals to space travel and atomic weapons.” Turning to Negron, he asked, “Well, old friend? Any ideas how to do such a thing?" Negron shook his head as his deep bass voice said, “No. The Grays have the ability to spot us from a great distance if we fly in. Porting in above their encampments is possible if done momentarily, but that would not help take such a weapon." The Browns soon joined the conversation, tossing out suggestions and rejecting them. It soon became apparent the AEthereals were limited in their thinking by their ages of warfare against the Grays. Eric spoke up, “Excuse me, but I can't help but wonder whether you've considered perhaps making the raid

in human form, rather than in your normal form? It would seem to me that, with careful planning, we could portal into the camp, steal the weapon, and be back on Earth in a few moments time." There was a momentary silence as they digested his words. Brundig began to laugh, a basso-profundo sound that echoed off the walls. “No wonder you love these humans, Astra! Such an obvious solution and it has never occurred to us to try a different shape in almost six hundred years!" Taking advantage of their present approval, Eric asked, “Would it be possible for me to assist in capturing the weapon? I have experience in covert military operations and it would facilitate turnover once we portal back to Earth." Ebon, Negron, Grendal and Brundig discussed his request, weighing the risks against the limited gains. What impact would the loss of this human have on potential future relations? What affect would his assistance have on those same relations? Grudgingly, Negron nodded his assent, and Ebon turned back to the humans. “Very well, Eric. You may come along on the raid. How long will it take you to prepare?" Eric said, “I can be ready tomorrow. I have the necessary gear at Astra's home." Judy was torn by this decision. She envied Eric the chance to travel to another world and help the AEthereals in their ongoing war against the Grays, but she worried about his being in harm's way so far away from her. She knew if she had the same opportunity, though, she would have jumped at the chance. Ebon turned to the Council and announced. “Very well, the humans will assist us in a raid on the Grays for the purpose of obtaining a working energy weapon so they may develop a defense against it that we may use to protect ourselves. Does this satisfy you, Astra?" Astra stood once more. “It pleases me to see our two species working together. In fact, it is that very idea that brings me to my second proposal for the Council. The humans would like to send some of the scientists along with our Greens on some of their explorations." Celadon and Forrest exchanged glances and Celadon rose to speak. “We would have no objection in principle, but many details would need to be resolved before such an expedition would be possible." Astra responded, “We quite agree. But the tremendous gains we could make through these peaceful coexplorations would more than offset the initial effort in establishing the mechanisms for such a joint venture." "But not at this time, sister,” Ebon spoke. “Let us work together in this raid, this small task, to see if cooperation between our species is even possible.” The assembled Council agreed with Ebon's judgment in this decision, and the proposal for joint exploration was tabled for the time being.

Chapter 19 Judy was amazed by the change in Eric. The suave, stylish agent was gone; the warrior had taken his place. He had donned a matte black combat suit and boots, over which he had put on a special combat weapons harness. His 9mm automatic rode under his left arm in a shoulder holster and a K-bar combat knife was strapped to his thigh. His hands were covered by black cotton gloves and a black hood covered his head and face. Night vision goggles rode atop his head. Once they were lowered over his eyes, none of his skin would be exposed. "You just happened to have this outfit in your closet?” Judy asked, from the doorway. "A souvenir from my SEAL days. It has come in handy once or twice,” Eric replied. "Hey, wait a minute! You aren't wearing your leg brace!” Judy noticed. Eric grinned. “I was saving that as a surprise. Astra has been working on my leg for months, slowly rebuilding the nerve connections. It's almost completely healed now." "Astra wants us to join her in the conference room when you're ready,” Judy said. She walked over and slipped her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest. “Just be careful. I want you back in one piece." Eric kissed the top of her head, inhaling her scent. “I'll be okay, Judy. Trust me. I have been trained to do these kinds of things. Plus, I won't be alone out there." Judy hugged him tightly and then stepped back. “Well, let's go then." Astra looked approvingly at Eric as he entered the conference room. Turning to Ebon, she said, “He almost looks like one of your Blacks, does he not?" Ebon looked the human male over. “Perhaps a young one, but he'll do. Are you ready, Eric?" "What's the plan?” Eric asked. Ebon explained, “We will portal in to a hilltop with a view over most of their newest encampment. This particular camp has not been attacked and they are becoming complacent as they believe we are unaware of its existence. We will observe the camp and determine the most likely target. Once we have a target, we will decide how to proceed." "Seems reasonable to me. Gather intelligence on the site, finalize target, and plan extraction. Done the same thing many times in the past myself. Let's do it,” Eric said. Ebon reached out and clasped Eric's forearm as Eric's hand clasped Ebon's forearm, a gesture of male solidarity as old as mankind. They were enveloped in the blue nimbus of light and vanished. They arrived on the backside of a small hill. They crawled up to the crest and looked down on the Gray encampment about a quarter of a mile away. The center of the camp was dominated by a disc-shaped ship, which looked like the typical Hollywood flying saucer from the campy films Eric had watched on television as a child. Had our government allowed the leak of real information regarding Gray technology as a means of preparing humanity for the ultimate disclosure of the real thing? Around the encampment was a series of poles with a shimmer of energy between them. Eric pointed to the poles. “Perimeter fence of some kind?" "It keeps the small game out of the camp. Only comes up about seven feet or so,” Ebon whispered back. Eric swept his night vision binoculars over the encampment. There were armaments emplacements ringing the camp. There were four large weapons with smaller ones between them. The large

emplacements reminded Eric of anti-aircraft weapons, while the smaller ones looked like those served by a crew against intrusions. “Are the large weapons the ones giving you problems, or are there smaller versions in the crew pits?" "The large weapons have been used against us at great ranges. I am not sure about the smaller weapons. Perhaps we should grab some of each,” Ebon suggested. Eric grunted as his eyes caught movement. There was a foot patrol making its way around the perimeter. Once again, Eric was reminded of those old movies. The Grays were small, perhaps four feet tall, bipedal with skinny legs and arms. Their heads were out of proportion to their bodies by human standards, with large eyes and no obvious ears or nose. They wore no clothing and their skin appeared to be leathery. Harnesses worn over their shoulders and waists carried what appeared to be hand weapons of some type. "Have you tried communicating with them? You guys are telepathic, after all." "They are also telepathic, but they have incredible shields around their minds that have, so far, prevented us from reaching them. They have been using their own minds to batter ours during some of the conflicts. They can cause confusion and disorientation. That is one of the reasons we adopted the strategy of opening a portal directly atop them for a fire burst, and then popping back out seconds later, before they can mount an effective attack against us." A new Gray had exited the ship and, judging from the deference being shown by the other Grays, this new one was a leader of some kind. His harness was more elaborate and included a pouch of some kind, as well as some different belt devices. "You know, it might be helpful to try to grab someone like this new Gray to see if we can open a dialog with them. Get him away from the rest and see what we can learn,” Eric suggested. "That is not a bad idea, Eric, but our primary objective comes first. We came for the weapons. If we can also grab the Gray, okay, but not at the risk of the overall mission.” Ebon reached out and laid his hand on Eric's shoulder. A nimbus covered them and they slipped back into the conference room at Astra's. Eric and Ebon got up from the floor. Eric walked over to the computer system and plugged his night vision binoculars into a USB port on the computer system. Pressing a few keys, he accessed the digital video recording he'd made during the reconnaissance mission. The replay began to display on the projection system in the conference room. A shimmer of light proceeded the arrival of Negron, Grendal and Brundig. They seated themselves at the table and watched the playback. "I think two of us could handle the large weapon. Say two more for the crew pits on either side. That will leave Eric and I free to grab this guy,” Ebon said, as the screen showed the image of the Gray leader. “The question is simple. Where do we bring the weapons and the prisoner once we grab them?" "Why not bring the weapons here to my cavern? There is plenty of room. I would recommend taking the prisoner to the Council chamber. It is deep in the Earth and has no external openings. If you let us know when you are ready, we can have the Council there when you appear with him,” Astra suggested. "Excellent ideas, sister. I agree,” Ebon said. “But might I suggest a change? Why do we not use more of us and target all the weapons surrounding the ship? If we can kill all the Grays guarding the ship, we can then easily wipe out the camp." Negron looked excited. “An excellent idea! I will organize the strike teams myself.” He rubbed his hands together, a gleeful smile on his dark face. “At last, to be free of them!” He turned to Ebon. “We will meet you at the hilltop. And yes, we will all be in human form." "Very well. Astra, please assemble the Council in one hour,” Ebon said.

**** Once again, Eric was atop the small hill near the Gray encampment. The twin Browns, Grendal and Brundig, were assigned the task of taking one of the large weapons platforms. Negron's deputy and one other Brown would take care of the smaller crew pits. Ebon and Eric would attempt to take the Gray leader. The remainder would eliminate the other weapons crews. It was very late at night, the two moons had set and sunrise would be in another hour or so. As he expected, the leader was just now leaving the ship to make his rounds of the encampment. In an instant, they were in the encampment. Eric found himself standing in front of a very surprised Gray. Instinctively, Eric's fist shot forward, clipping the alien across what seemed to be analogous to a jaw, rendering him unconscious. Ebon tossed the alien over his shoulder and linked arms with Eric. Eric took one last look around. The large portal surrounding the bigger weapons indicated the Browns were taking it away. Glimpses of blue shimmers on either side implied the smaller pits were also being taken. Shimmers in the other pits showed all the others were right on the mark in taking the other weapons. Suddenly, the assault teams all reverted to their normal AEthereal form. Twelve massive dragons ringed the spacecraft, their flaming breaths dancing along its flight surfaces, heating the ship to a white hot glow. Grays began running from the main opening, straight into the waiting maws of the angry dragons. Ebon brought up the portal and they left it all behind. Astra's cavern. Grendal and Brundig were standing next to the large weapon while Negron and his deputy were piling various small ones and devices next to it. With a wave, the deputy ported out. "He goes to ready the battle wing,” Negron said. “I will join you at the Council shortly, Ebon, but first we will organize the same type raids on all the Gray camps. We have almost wiped them from Paradise.” With a nod to Eric, Negron followed his deputy. "That was fun, Eric!” Brundig said as he slapped Eric across the back. “Gray necks snap very easily. We dispatched the weapons crew before they knew we were there. See you at Council, Ebon!” With a wave, Brundig and Grendal faded out. "Well, Eric, let's go see what the Council has to say about what we have done,” Ebon said. **** Ebon deposited the unconscious Gray on the floor in the center of the Council chamber. The thrones were soon filled by the Council members. Brundig stood to address the others. "It was a success. My brother and I appeared in the large weapon pit behind the two crew members. We killed them with our hands, snapping their necks before they could raise an alarm. We quickly linked our minds and surrounded the weapon with a portal, bringing it and us back to Astra's cavern." Negron spoke. “My deputy and I each took the smaller weapons pits on either side of the larger one. Each held two Grays, which we had no trouble dispatching. We searched the pits and collected all devices and weapons we could find. We transported them to the cavern and they are stacked next to the large weapon. Simultaneously, an assault force of blacks and browns took out the other weapon crews. With the weapons rendered incapable of being used against us, the assault teams reverted to normal form and attacked the Gray ship. All the Grays in the camp have been destroyed. The ship and remaining weapons have also been destroyed." Ebon rose. “Eric and I went after the leader of the Grays.” He pointed at the small alien in the center of the chamber. “He was quite surprised as Eric appeared directly in front of him. Eric struck the Gray

with a hard shot to the face. I picked him up and here we all are. We were there on the ground less than five minutes." Negron rose, a big grin on his face. “A sweep of the planet is underway to determine whether any encampments remain. Where there are, we shall use the same tactics. We shall infiltrate beforehand to disable their weapon crews, then destroy them with coordinated assaults. The battle for Paradise is almost over." The resulting celebration was cut short as the Gray began to revive. At first, there was a slight movement, then a sound similar to a groan, and finally, the Gray slowly sat up. He looked around the assembled Council and caught sight of the three humans standing off to one side. "What are humans doing with these creatures?” came the question that rang in the minds of the humans and AEthereals. "We are partners,” was Judy's reply. “Why do you wage war upon us?" "But you are from different worlds!” was the amazed response from the Gray. "You're wrong. We're from the same world,” Eric said. "Impossible! Your world once had creatures such as these eons ago, but we destroyed them to prepare the planet for our use,” the Gray asserted. "How did you destroy them?” Eric asked. "We sent a great asteroid on a collision course with the planet and it wiped out the great reptiles,” came the Gray's reply. "You failed, for we survived,” came Ebon's cold response. “We learned to travel the galaxies and have settled on many worlds. Even now, we are destroying the last remnants of your forces on Paradise. All this could have been avoided if you had just communicated with us. We have no problem sharing a world with another intelligent species." "We do not share with inferiors.” The Gray's mental tone was cold and implacable. “It must be you who have been destroying our exploratory vessels sent to the human world." Judy spoke out. “Why? What gives you the right to take over anyone's world?" The Gray turned its large eyes on Judy. “All other species are inferior to us. We have been traveling and expanding in the galaxy for millions of your years. It is our destiny to take what we need to perpetuate our species." The Gray's eyes blinked. “Where have you brought me? I cannot reach the Overmind." "Overmind? What is that?” Indigo the Blue asked, leaning forward in his seat. "The Overmind is the proof of our superiority, for it is the collective joining of all the minds of my species. What one of us knows, we all know." "And yet you cannot reach this Overmind now?” Indigo probed. “I cannot help but wonder what your Overmind thought when you were suddenly confronted by a human on a world devoid of them and then your mind, along with those of all of your crew, disappeared from the collective.” Turning to Ebon, Indigo said, “If they associate Eric's appearance with Earth, they may take action against this world. We should increase our patrols." "I am on the human world?” was the incredulous reaction of the Gray. “But how? That world is thousands of light years away from where I was!"

"You are the superior species; you figure it out,” Ebon said. “Negron, why do you not go check on the progress of mopping up the Gray forces on Paradise? Grendal, organize increased patrols here on Earth and our other worlds.” Turning to Celadon, Forrest, Indigo and Azure, Ebon challenged them. “You need to find the home world of the Grays. We will either develop an accommodation with them, or we will bring the war to their home world." Ebon turned his eyes on Astra and the humans. “You must take their weapons and devices to your scientists for analysis. If we must continue this war with the Grays, we must have a way of countering their beam weapons." Finally, he turned his gaze on the Gray. “You are our prisoner. It is of no matter to us whether you live or die. You must explain to us what you need in terms of food and other essentials to survive. Cooperation will enable you to live. You will remain sealed inside this chamber until your fate is determined. Should you attempt to subvert our human friends through mental coercion, we will destroy you without a second's hesitation. For I, Guardian of this world, shall be your jailer and there is nothing I would like better than to burn you down where you stand."

Chapter 20 Eric had just finished summarizing the events of the preceding twenty-four hours for the President. He had explained that not only had the AEthereals agreed to such a raid to recover a weapon, it had been conducted and a large collection of weapons and other devices had been captured, along with a live Gray prisoner. The question now was how to transfer the captured materials to human scientists for study. "Mr. President, since we already know the Roswell crash was real, there must be some branch of the government investigating the artifacts from it. It would seem to me they would be in the best position to take custodianship of these devices,” Judy suggested. “They could then bring in outside expertise where needed." "That's a good idea, Agent Deavers.” The President picked up his scrambled telephone and asked for the duty officer in the Situation Room. “I want the head of the team at Groom Lake to call me within the next ten minutes." "Groom Lake is near the Edwards Air Force Base test facility in Nevada, and has long been rumored to be the infamous ‘Area 51’ of science fiction speculation.” Eric explained to Judy and Astra. “Although I suppose it's not so much speculation if it's really true." Astra spoke up. “We have some property near there, including an old warehouse, which is a holdover from the preatomic testing days. I can have the materials transferred there tonight." Within seven minutes, the secure telephone signaled an incoming call. The President picked up the handset, listened for a moment, and then said, “Turning my key now.” He turned a small white key that was plugged into the side of the instrument, activating the cryptographic systems that provided secure communications between the two instruments. "Dr. Conklin, thank you for calling me so quickly. We have some fully functional Gray weapons and other devices for you to analyze. No, I can't explain where we got them right now. I'll be sending two agents out to see you tomorrow. Their names are Eric Johansson and Judy Deavers. You'll be receiving comparison data via secure communications this evening from here. They will convey you to where the items are stored. I need you to contact Dr. Wilson at DARPA, as he's heading a project involving this material. He'll be expecting your call tomorrow.” The President listened for a minute. “Yes, yes, Doctor, I quite understand how exciting this is. Yes, these items are indeed functional and most are offensive weapons, so do be careful with them.” Again the President listened, winking at Judy as he looked over at her. “Thank you, Doctor. Goodbye.” Without another word, he hung up the telephone handset, then turned the key, breaking the circuit. The President then contacted the duty officer again. “Get me Doctor Wilson at DARPA on secure, please.” Seconds later, the President said, “Going secure. Hello, Doctor. Good news. We have your samples. Yes, they are working copies. You can expect a call from Doctor Conklin at Groom Lake tomorrow to set up your research. I cannot emphasize strongly enough the need for both speed and secrecy in this matter.” The President listened for a moment and then added, “That will be fine. I trust your judgment regarding your personnel, Doctor. Let me hear from you before the end of the week with your initial results. Goodbye." The President turned to the three sitting in the Oval Office. “I'll leave it to you to get the items somewhere close to the Groom Lake laboratories so they can pick them up. I imagine you can make your own way there faster than we could send you.” Astra's smile was all the confirmation he needed. “Let me get the ball rolling on your clearance information out there.” He pressed a button on his intercom and the head of his security detail came in. “Chuck, please have Agents Johansson and

Deaver's personal data sent secure to the Groom Lake facility right away. I need them to go there tomorrow and I know how important proper prior clearance is to you security types.” The agent was chuckling as he left. "Lady Astra,” the President said. “What do the AEthereals plan to do with your prisoner?" "For now, he is being held in a secure, escape-proof location from which he cannot communicate with the others of his kind,” Astra said. “We will keep him available should he be needed for additional information in your research. Our principle use for him will be in communicating with their Overmind to attempt a resolution of the conflict between our species. To be honest, I do not expect any kind of simple resolution to this. They do not accept any other life forms as their equal." The President shook his head. “I cannot believe their arrogance. To send a huge asteroid to cleanse a planet of life so they can take it over. I wonder why they never followed through with that plan here." Astra's smile was cold. “Oh, they did try, Mr. President. Their ships just never came very close before they were destroyed. Remember, this is our home world, too, and we have been guarding it for millions of years." "I'm certainly glad you're on our side. I won't keep you any longer since I know you have things to do.” The President stood and shook their hands. “Please keep in touch.” His last words were said as Astra and the agents were enveloped in the blue portal and vanished from the Oval Office. The President shook his head as he wondered what it would be like to travel that way. **** As soon as Astra had deposited Eric and Judy in the living room, she popped out again to find some help in moving the alien artifacts to the Nevada location. Astra returned with Grendal and Brundig a few minutes later. "Well met, Eric and Judy,” boomed the loud voice of Brundig. “It is good to see you both again." "So do you know where we're going?” Judy asked. "Indeed. We have just come from there. Astra took us along to make sure we knew exactly where she wanted us to put all the items. I will warn you. It is a dark and dirty warehouse in poor repair,” Grendal responded. “If we were not getting rid of these places anyway, I would have strong words with the person responsible for this one!" "You will have your chance. I have asked our property agent in the area to come by the warehouse tomorrow morning early, bringing along a car for these two to use in driving over to Groom Lake. I would think some repairs will be required before we can sell the property, which would not have been necessary had this agent done his job properly,” Astra said. “Perhaps you can encourage him to make things right without the need for tedious litigation." Grendal grinned. “Oh, you can count on that!" Since the actual transfer would take mere moments, they waited until the next morning to actually make the shift. In the blink of an eye, they had traveled from the cool mountain interior in Maryland to the hot, dusty warehouse in the remote fringes of Nevada. The warnings had not been enough to prepare Judy for the actuality of the dilapidated structure in which she found herself. Large cobwebs festooned the walls and overhead beams. None of the windows were intact, permitting the entrance of blown sand, now piled under all the windows and around the sagging doorways. "It might be more expedient to just burn this place down and build something new,” Eric said, looking around.

"Your idea is not without merit,” Brundig replied, looking around with distaste. “Maybe we can chain the real estate manager in the center when we torch the place." "None of that, Brundig!” Astra said sharply. “While I may agree with the sentiment, I cannot support the action. We cannot go around killing all the humans who we feel need it." "There would not be many left if we did that!” laughed Grendal. “Present company excluded, of course,” he added with a nod toward Judy and Eric. "Someone is coming, Astra,” said Brundig. “Two cars." "That should be the real estate agent and the deliveryman with the car. I should have thought of this before. Could you two take the alien items out of here for a short while until these outsiders are gone? No use in stirring up too many questions,” Astra asked, irritation in her voice. She hated creating extra work, but there was no other way. With a quick wave, the two Browns walked over to the alien weapons and the whole assembly vanished, leaving Astra and the two agents standing alone in the warehouse. Eric pulled open one of the exterior doors and they stepped into the broiling sunlight just as the two cars came to a stop outside. The deliveryman hopped out of a nice Mercedes sedan, leaving the engine running and the air conditioning going. He'd obviously been very comfortable in the car and was not looking forward to riding back with the real estate agent in his older and less comfortable pickup truck. The real estate agent stepped forward with his hand outstretched toward Eric, a smarmy smile on his face. Judy disliked him instantly. "Howdy, folks! Bill Truscott at your service.” He grabbed Eric's hand in what he thought was a firm handshake. Eric slowly squeezed and watched with satisfaction as the man's eyes registered the pain he was feeling. Astra stepped forward. “You have the paperwork I asked for?" Stunned by the beauty of the strange white-haired woman in front of him, Truscott fumbled with the documents from inside his suit jacket. Astra's features wrinkled in distaste; the documents were damp with the man's perspiration. “Mr. Truscott, the condition of this property is unacceptable. Our firm has been paying you to manage this place and that included keeping it in good repair. Since we have photographic evidence of its original condition at the time of purchase and the beginning of your service, our attorneys will have no trouble convicting you of fraud and malfeasance. You are terminated. You can expect to hear from our attorneys within a few days.” Looking away from the now cowering wretch, Astra turned to the deliveryman. “You there! Come here!" He walked slowly over to the group. “Yes, ma'am?" "Do you have the paperwork for the car? Give it to Mr. Johansson here to sign. I am sure he will give you a ride back to town in the Mercedes, rather than make you ride back in that poor excuse for a truck.” Astra turned back to Truscott. “You have sixty seconds to get off my property, Truscott, or I will have you arrested." "Now listen here, bitch!” Truscott moved in Astra's direction and Judy took him down. She grabbed one wrist and flipped him over onto his face in the dirt, pinning his arm high between his shoulder blades while simultaneously slipping a pair of handcuffs on the man's wrist. "I'm a federal agent, Mr. Truscott. You are hereby charged with defrauding a foreign corporation and attempted assault on one of that corporation's senior officers. Don't struggle, or I'll add resisting arrest to the charges."

Judy stood away from the now sobbing man and Eric reached one hand down and grasped the back of the man's coat, lifting him to his feet. "I am in a forgiving mood, Truscott. I will give you a chance to avoid prosecution. You can restore this structure to its previous condition, or you can make restitution of its original market value, which was three and a half million dollars. Coincidentally, that happens to be almost what we have paid you to manage this place for the last fifteen years. Until one of those two things happen—you provide a cashier's check for the full amount, or you repair this building—those federal charges will hang over your head like an axe. Agents Johansson and Deavers are not very trusting or forgiving, and neither are the other members of my company's board of directors. You do not want to meet them." Knowing the repair costs would be far greater than the three and a half million dollars, Truscott said, “You'll have your check tomorrow." "No, Mr. Truscott, I will have it today by five o'clock, right here,” Astra said firmly. “Otherwise, you will be in jail by six." Reluctantly, Truscott agreed. Judy uncuffed his hands and sent him on his way. Eric and Judy led the deliveryman back to the Mercedes. As they started to drive away following the dust cloud raised by Truscott's truck, the deliveryman asked, “What about the lady? You just going to leave her out here?" "She's quite capable of taking care of herself,” Judy said. “Just how bad a character is this Truscott person?" The man thought about it for a moment, and then said, “He's just a smalltime weasel. He's been cheating them Brits for as long as he's managed the property. It was mighty smart of her to bring a couple of feds along to make her point.” The man laughed. “It was great seeing him tossed down in the dirt like that. Believe me, the whole county will know about it before night falls." Eric was perplexed. “Why? He can't be foolish enough to tell anyone what just happened. I suppose some curiosity will be aroused when he makes out the cashier's check, but that will hardly explain why." "'Cuz I'm going to tell everyone I know how he got caught at last, and by the feds to boot! I'll make sure everyone knows every cringing, whining moment of his humiliation,” the deliveryman said. "You sure seem to hate him. May I ask why?” Judy asked. "The jerk is married to my sister and he treats her like crap, plus he's always looking down on me, too. Like this whole delivery job today, for example. He called me up last night and told me to have the best Mercedes on the lot ready for delivery, and that he'd make sure I got a whole hundred dollars for my effort. Of course, he reneged on that part once we got there. Told me it was barely worth fifty dollars to him.” The man paused. “Yeah, I hate him." When they dropped the man off at his dealership, Eric had signed the paperwork for the car and slipped it all back into the envelope. He handed the paperwork over to the man and restarted the car. As they pulled out of the lot, Judy asked him, “How much?" Eric looked guilty as he gave her a sheepish grin. “What do you mean?" "How much money did you slip into the envelope along with the contract?" "A thousand." Judy sighed. “I know you too well, Eric. But for what its worth, I was going to do the same thing.” She flipped open the map. “Now how do we get to where we need to be?"

They followed the winding road far out into the sands of the Nevada salt flats. It had been over fifty miles since they had last seen a road sign, or any other indication they were heading in the right direction. At long last, they began to see a chain link fence paralleling the road and then finally, they came to a gate with a security shack. An Air Force Security Policeman came out of the shack and waved them to a stop in front of the vehicle barrier. "Good morning, sir. May I see some identification for you and your passenger?" The two agents handed over their White House credentials. The guard was not impressed and he verified their names and appearance against the rosters provided him when he came on duty that morning. “Very good, Agent Johansson, Agent Deavers. Please proceed down this road until you reach the next building. When you reach it, pull up to the vehicle door and sound your horn twice. Once the door opens, drive inside. Do not exit your vehicle. You will be under constant surveillance and the use of deadly force is authorized on this installation. Please don't make us shoot you.” He handed back their credentials and opened the barrier, waving them to proceed. They drove deeper into the desert until they came to a metal storage shed with a garage-style door. Eric pulled up next to it and sounded his horn twice as instructed. It opened upwards, revealing an empty bay. Eric slowly drove the car into the building and the door closed behind them. Suddenly, the floor beneath them began to descend. The entire room was an elevator, taking them deep underground. Finally, the shaft opened to reveal a large bay filled with armed security personnel. One of the security personnel stepped forward and said, “Please exit the vehicle. Hold your identification in your right hand with both hands over your head." Judy and Eric held their credentials open in their right hands and opened the car doors. After stepping out, they raised their hands over their head. Two security personnel approached each of them, patting them down for weapons and removing both agents’ side arms. “You'll get these back when you're ready to leave.” Comparing their identification and faces to the sheets in his binder, the security team leader looked them over very carefully. He asked them a few questions on their backgrounds, more a pro forma exercise than for any real chance of tripping them up. “Well, I guess you are who you say you are. Doctor Conklin is waiting for you in conference room alpha. Please come with me." He led the two agents through a series of massive blast doors and down a sterile corridor to an oak door. The security guard opened it and ushered them through. “Agents Deavers and Johansson, Doctor Conklin.” He then took up a position between the door and Eric and Judy. Doctor Conklin stood beside the conference table. He was a tall, cadaverous man who obviously rarely saw the sun or a gym. His gaunt features and glistening bald head were faintly raptorlike, with a narrow blade of a nose and thin lips. He was wearing the obligatory white lab coat over a blue pin-striped broadcloth shirt and a subdued navy tie, dark navy trousers and black penny loafers. His face was distorted into what Judy supposed was a smile. “Hello! I understand you can take me to some new alien artifacts, all in working order." Not one to beat about the bush, Judy thought, then said, “Yes, sir. That's correct. You'll need a rather large transport vehicle. It's about a two hour drive once past the main gate." "Then we best get going! Lieutenant, organize a security convoy with a flat bed, some tarps, and a lot of guards,” Doctor Conklin ordered. "Sir, if I may suggest, I would like to have a few Apaches flying a high cover,” the lieutenant suggested. "Good idea.” Turning to Eric and Judy, Doctor Conklin said, “Shall we go?"

Doctor Conklin rode out to the warehouse with Eric and Judy in the Mercedes sedan. The convoy of military vehicles followed behind them while overhead, two Apache attack helicopters kept pace high in the sky. As they pulled up in front of the unprepossessing structure, Doctor Conklin was flabbergasted. “Here? The items are here in this dump?” He bit his words off as Astra stepped out to greet them. Doctor Conklin was at a complete loss for words as he took her hand. Astra led the doctor inside the warehouse, where he was confronted with the reality of the alien weapons and devices, along with the intimidating presence of both Grendal and Brundig. “Good Lord! Look at this thing! Obviously some kind of beam weapon of some sort. How are we going to get it onto the truck bed?” He wandered off to consult with the other personnel from Groom Lake. "I hadn't thought about how they were going to put this thing onto their flatbed truck,” Eric said. “There's no way they can put a forklift under it and sheer muscle power isn't going to handle it." "Call Doctor Conklin back over here, Judy,” Astra commanded. The doctor came over to them, still scratching his head. “I'm not sure what to do. I hadn't really counted on the sheer mass of this thing. How did you ever get it here in the first place?" "The same way, Doctor, we will put it on your truck. I would like you to have the truck brought inside the warehouse and then take all your personnel back outside. Once the cargo is on the truck, your men can come back inside and secure it for transport,” Grendal said. Doctor Conklin had the truck parked next to the large weapon and then all the military personnel and both agents stepped outside. As they walked away, one of the security personnel walked over to the lieutenant commanding the detail. "Sir, the Apaches report an unidentified civilian pickup truck is approaching this location." The Lieutenant turned to Eric. “Expecting anyone?" "It might be the real estate agent, Truscott. He's coming out here to give a cashier's check to the lady. Under no circumstances should he be allowed to see your cargo,” Eric explained. Judy walked over to the men and said, “The cargo is on the truck and your men are permitted back inside, Lieutenant. Doctor Conklin, here is my card. If you need either Agent Johansson or I for any reason, just call the number on the card." Doctor Conklin and the lieutenant walked inside the warehouse to see the entire shipment of alien artifacts now resting in the center of the lowboy flatbed truck. They looked around and noticed both Grendal and Brundig had vanished as well. “I don't suppose anyone would like to explain just how this was accomplished. Another mystery for me to ponder in the night, I guess,” Doctor Conklin muttered to himself as he watched the military personnel covering the load with tarps. The smaller devices were placed into crates, which were then strapped into place. Once the tarps were over the large weapon, tiedown straps were used to secure it to the flatbed trailer. One of the security guards walked over to where Astra, Eric and Judy were standing. “Excuse me, but there's some guy named Truscott over at the perimeter demanding to see the lady. My orders prevent me from letting him through the perimeter, so I must ask you to come out there to speak with him." Astra smiled at the young airman. “I will be glad to come with you, young man. What is your name?" Judy shook her head as Astra made another conquest. They walked out as a group over to the checkpoint the military had established and where the visibly angry Truscott was pacing back and forth. They led Truscott off to one side.

"You have something for me, Mr. Truscott?” Astra asked. He grudgingly handed over a business envelope. Astra opened the envelope and removed a cashier's check made out in the value of three and a half million dollars. There were also some forms transferring the property back to Truscott's holding company. Astra quickly signed those and then handed the forms over to Judy Deavers. Judy signed the forms as a witness, including her federal agent identification data. Once she signed the forms, she handed them to Eric to sign as a second witness. As this was going on, the military had quickly formed up a convoy around the flatbed and had started to move out. Truscott watched open-mouthed as the trucks rolled past, leaving only one humvee behind for the Lieutenant, Doctor Conklin, and the young airman. "Just what in the hell is going on out here?” Truscott demanded to know. "A matter of national security, Mr. Truscott,” the lieutenant replied. “I would strongly urge you not to pry into this any further unless you want to spend some time as a guest of the government." "This is my property now, so I demand to know what's been going on!” Truscott's face was starting to get red as his anger built. "Leave it alone, Truscott,” Eric said. “Talk about this anywhere and you will be in a federal cell so deep, you'll never see the light of day. That's a promise." Eric offered his arm to Astra, and together with Judy they walked over to the waiting Mercedes sedan. As they drove off after the convoy, Eric asked, “What are we going to do with this car?" "We'll just take it back to the leasing agency. After that, we can conveniently disappear,” Astra said. “After all, since we no longer own any property here, there is no longer any point in staying." **** Five days later, Eric's White House issued cell phone rang. “Agent Johansson,” he said, and as he expected, the President's voice sounded in his ear. "Eric, I need to see the two of you and Lady Astra as soon as possible. There have been some startling developments from some of the devices you brought us. Can you come to the Oval Office in about ten minutes?" Eric looked across the lake where Astra and Judy were swimming and said, “Sir, we better make it thirty minutes.” After disconnecting from the call, Eric whistled loudly. Having gotten their attention, he waved for Astra and Judy to come in to shore. As they walked up to their towels, Eric said, “The President wants to see us in the Oval Office in thirty minutes.” He could tell from Judy's expression she was about to complain about the short notice, so he added, “He originally wanted us there in ten minutes, but I bought you guys a little extra time, which you are wasting." **** They arrived in the Oval Office exactly on time. Judy's hair was still slightly damp. The President ushered them to the sitting group. “Thank you for coming so quickly. It seems that some of the devices you provided were data storage units. While we don't have any idea what the text data says, there were some startling video records included. Lady Astra, I need a big favor. I need you to take all four of us to the conference room at the research facility. You must see this information immediately." Astra sat quietly for a moment, thinking. “Mr. President, while I have not been there myself, Judy has and I can pick up enough information to find the location from her memory of the room. My only question is whether you believe this matter is urgent enough to increase the number of people who know about our abilities."

"Lady Astra, that cat is out of the bag. When you see the recording, you'll understand. Yes, I think it is that important.” The President had never looked more sincere than he did at that moment. "Very well, then. When shall we go?” Astra asked. "I'll call Doctor Conklin now to make sure the conference room is empty.” The President had the duty communications officer set up a secure call. While the call was being established, he briefed his senior agent in charge of his protection detail that they would be making an unscheduled trip outside the White House for about an hour. The senior agent turned to Eric and Judy and told them they would be responsible for the protection of the President. Implicit in his words was the threat of horrible repercussions should anything happen to the President. Once the Secret Service Agent had left the Oval Office and the President had finished his call, he walked back over to them. “All set. The room is empty and the door is locked. Once we arrive, I'll use the phone in the room to let them know we've arrived." Astra looked steadily at Judy. “This is no different than when we went to your Spokane apartment. I want you to concentrate on that conference room. Picture it clearly in your mind." Judy concentrated hard on her memories. At the same time, Eric began to build the image in his mind, as well. Astra picked up both sets of memories from her two friends, letting them guide her astral self across the country to the spot they remembered. She winged her way over the desert, past the guard shack and down the elevator shaft, through the blast doors and into the conference room. It was indeed as they remembered it. She looked around and found some hidden surveillance devices which she disabled with a thought. Opening her eyes back in the Oval Office, Astra said, “I have the place. Please sit very still.” She focused her thoughts and a blue nimbus appeared around each of them. As the light faded, they were sitting in the chairs around the conference table with the President at the head of the table. "That was awesome! One moment, I'm in my office and now, I'm here in an underground research lab in Nevada! Amazing!” The President was excited by the experience and Judy could see a trace of envy at the idea of being able to do such a thing. The President picked up the phone and dialed Doctor Conklin's extension. “We're here, Doctor." Doctor Conklin came into the room alone, bringing with him one of the alien devices. “Hello again. I can't thank you enough for the fascinating artifacts you brought us. When I described the images we'd seen on this device, the President insisted you see them.” He placed the device in the center of the conference table and pressed an exposed stud. The air above the table was filled with a holographic display. The display started with a view from space of a planet that looked like Earth, yet the land masses were slightly wrong. The point of view zoomed in and it showed dinosaurs roaming the land. It began to follow one large winged green reptile through the sky. It was obviously an AEthereal. The AEthereal banked its flight to close on whatever device was making the recording. As he flew closer, more detail could be seen, including an odd blaze of white that began on the bridge of his massive snout and extended back between his eyes and over the crown of his head. A beam of light washed over the green AEthereal, and he seemed to vanish into thin air. The next scene showed the same AEthereal in some kind of stasis chamber surrounded by Grays. It was obvious they were performing scientific tests on him. They tested various weapons of a projectile type only to see them bounce off the dragon's scales. They attempted to cut away a part of his wing fabric using an edged weapon, but it dulled far too quickly to do any damage. They finally succeeded using a powerful laser beam, but the wound healed almost as fast as they made it.

The barbarity of the images made Judy turn her head. Her affiliation with the AEthereals made her realize how cruel and painful these tortures were to the poor Green. Her gaze fell upon Astra, who was sitting there as still as death, huge tears rolling down here cheeks, not making a sound. The gasp from the President and Eric made Judy turn her attention back to the hologram. Once again, it was the view from space, this time following a massive asteroid on its flight toward Earth. As it streaked into the sky, another Green AEthereal rose to chase it. As the rock made contact with the planet, the resulting explosion tore the wings and flesh from the AEthereal's body, dashing him to the ground to be consumed in the growing devastation from the strike. Judy rushed over and put her arms around Astra as the room was suddenly filled by angry AEthereals. Ebon, Hecate, Grendal, Brundig, Etienne and Amber had all answered Astra's anguished mental scream. "What has happened here?” Ebon demanded, a black scowl on his face threatening destruction for whoever had harmed his sister. Doctor Conklin had been stunned into immobility by the sudden appearance of the six larger-than-life beings. Eric reached out and pushed the stud and the projection began once again. The assembled AEthereals watched the images stonily until the end. "So that is what happened,” Ebon said. “I always wondered why he vanished like he did." The President looked at Eric. “What's going on? Who are these AEthereals?" "Mr. President, these are Astra's family and friends, all members of the Council. What we witnessed here today caused Astra a great deal of anguish. The young Green destroyed in the asteroid strike was Astra's mate. I believe her pain is understandable, even after this much time has passed,” Eric answered. “Ebon, you spoke about the AEthereal that vanished. Did you recognize him?" "We all did, human,” answered Amber, “for he is Starfarer, my mate and their father."

Chapter 21 Amber and Etienne had taken Astra away to help her deal with her grief, leaving Ebon, Grendal and Brundig in the conference room. They had sat down in some of the empty chairs around the conference table. Eric had quickly introduced the three AEthereals to the President and Doctor Conklin. "Starfarer disappeared about a hundred years before the great asteroid strike. No one had any idea what became of him. To discover that the Grays abducted him, experimented on him, just sickens me. What worries me is what is not in this recording. Is Starfarer still alive, or did they develop the killing weapons by more experimentation with him?” Ebon's expression was grim. “Our little guest has some explaining to do." "Did I interpret that right? Did the Grays somehow launch that asteroid against Earth in order to destroy the dinosaurs and AEthereals?” the President asked. "Yes. The Grays have boasted of that. We long suspected it and have used a similar trick against their space ships. We place a large asteroid directly in front of their ships, too close for them to maneuver away from. It has been quite effective." Doctor Conklin cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Mr. President, but are you saying these people are really dragons in disguise?" "Yes, Doctor. They have been defending this planet, among others, from the Gray incursions for millions of years. They just concluded a war that lasted for over six hundred years to free one planet from the Grays.” The President gestured at the AEthereals. “It was these three, plus Agent Johansson, who obtained the devices and weapons you are studying." "So in addition to the ability to teleport yourselves and objects, you can also change shapes?” Doctor Conklin asked. “Fascinating!" "Doctor, it goes without saying that you must not discuss this with anyone,” the President said. “Our nation would hate to lose your services." "I understand completely, Mr. President. My lips are sealed,” Doctor Conklin assured the Chief Executive. “It does explain, though, how those two managed to get that monster weapons system on that truck without heavy equipment." Ebon transported Eric, Judy, and the President to Astra's home under the mountain near Camp David. They were met there by Amber and Etienne, who had been sitting in the living room with Spyder. Ebon spoke first, “How is Astra?" Amber explained Astra was resting but she would be fine. It was just the double shock of seeing what had happened to her father and the visual record of her mate's death which had momentarily shaken her usual calm. “What you humans did not know was there was indeed an audio portion to the recording, accessible only by beings with telepathic capability. Overlaying the Gray's dispassionate scientific discussion of Starfarer's physical makeup were his screams of agony as the lasers cut into his flesh, his pleas for them to stop." "That and their joking commentary during the asteroid strike as Astra's mate was destroyed,” Etienne added. "This will not go unpunished. The Council convenes in one hour. We will see what our prisoner has to say about this."

The President was taken back to the Oval Office by a still ashen Astra, her quiet smile all the acknowledgement she gave the President's words of consolation. Since it had not been forbidden, she brought along Eric, Judy and Spyder to the Council meeting. The other Council thrones were filled by the time they arrived, and Ebon had already shown the Gray recording to the Council members who had not seen it before. The outrage and anger in the room were almost tangible. They all rose in silent support for Astra as she made her way to her chair. The Gray stood silently off to one side of the center, the focus of the feeling in the room. As a telepathic being, Judy knew the Gray felt the emotions being aimed at him. Cut off from his own kind, he still stood resolutely in front of the Council. "By what right do you commit such atrocities?” demanded Amber the Gold. "We do what we please. Only a superior being has rights worth considering, not some flying animal.” The Gray's reply was cold. "You consider us inferior because we do not use technology. We could easily make the argument that you are inferior because only through technology can you master your environment. We can traverse space with a thought in an instant; you require ships and decades of time,” Indigo announced. “But the true test of superiority comes from within and how one treats other sentient beings. A truly enlightened and superior being does not commit such acts on another sentient being." Astra looked at the Gray in the center. In a quiet voice, she asked the question that haunted then all. “Does Starfarer yet live?" "If you mean the Green we took for study, yes. He has been held in a stasis field on our home world, a museum exhibit for our young." "We want him back. We will exchange your life for his,” Ebon announced. "We will never agree to that. A single life is unimportant to the Overmind.” The Gray's mental tone sounded like an exasperated parent lecturing an especially stupid child. “Our superiority derives not from our technology as you assume, but from the power of the Overmind, something so vast, you cannot conceive of it." "You are wrong in that assumption.” Ebon said. “And you will soon know the depth of that error. I call for a Grand Council to convene in the Council Amphitheater on Paradise at sunrise tomorrow. At that time, you will see the true power of the AEthereals.” Turning to the humans present, he added, “You may come as well. You have become both friends and allies to us, and we would welcome you as representatives of another sentient race from Earth." **** Back in Astra's home, Astra sat wearily in one of the chairs while Judy fixed her some hot chocolate. Spyder was very subdued. The holographic images had created a great deal of emotional disturbance in him. He had never really understood anger and mankind's almost innate ability to wage war; now he wanted to personally kick some Gray ass. "Astra, what is a Grand Council? What should we expect tomorrow?” Eric asked her. Astra looked up at him, her eyes still filled with sadness, yet a small spark of excitement began to creep into her expression as she spoke. “The Grand Council has not been convened in over a thousand years. All the AEthereals who are able to attend will be there in their natural forms. All communication will be done telepathically, but it will be a wide broadcast and you should be able to hear it. It will be chaired by Amber, my mother, as head of the Golds.” Astra looked at each of them as she sipped her

chocolate. “I want you each to stay as close to me as you can during the Grand Council. Some of the others have had no dealings with humans other than as food, and we would not want someone to inadvertently mistake you as a snack." Standing, she placed her cup down on the table. “I suggest we all get some rest. We will meet here in six hours. Dress warmly as it will be chilly in the predawn hours on Paradise.” She then walked slowly down the hallway to her room. Spyder bid the other two goodnight and went to his own room. Judy pulled Eric into her room, saying, “Please. I don't want to be alone tonight."

Chapter 22 Nothing could have prepared them for the sight before them. A massive natural depression, miles across, had been formed countless eons before by a large meteor strike. The side walls had been terraced into a series of ledges, upon which now rested thousands of AEthereals in their natural dragon form. They were sitting in sections divided by colors. A frisson of fear ran through each human at the spectacle of thousands of huge black dragons, each reaching three hundred feet in length, vying for space in their section of the amphitheater. Crowding them were the Browns, Blues, Greens, Reds, Golds, Oranges and Whites. Astra had assumed her position in the bottom tier of the Whites, near the center of the row. They could see a conspicuous space remaining in the front of the Blacks, for both Ebon and Negron were missing. A clarion call rang in their minds as the sun began to rise and illuminate the center of the amphitheater. ‘I call the Grand Council to order.’ Amber's strong mental voice overrode the subtle buzzing they had each felt in their minds, which now stopped as suddenly as if someone had thrown a switch. 'We have much to discuss and some hard decisions to make. First, I must make some introductions. Joining us for the first time in a Grand Council are three humans from our home planet. These three have proven themselves time and again our friends and allies in our struggle against the Grays.’ Amber's tone brooked no dissent on this point. A subtle nudge from Astra made the three step forward into the center of the amphitheater. As they looked around at the assembled multitude, they were each amazed by the absence of any animosity from the dragons, nor did any feel the legendary dragon freeze that was supposed to afflict humans when confronted by these fabled creatures. As had been agreed, Eric placed the Gray holographic device on the ground. Amber spoke again. ‘We, with the aid of the humans, recently captured this Gray device. The humans discovered it contained a visual and telepathic recording that concerned the AEthereals. After our review of it in the Council, we felt the matter should be brought to the Grand Council.' Eric depressed the stud, wondering if the device could even be seen by the multitudes around him. The device seemed to sense the scope of its audience, for the projection that arose fit the scope of the amphitheater. Somehow, the telepathic portion of the recording was also being “heard” by each of the humans. Judy was reduced to tears by the evident suffering of Starfarer, and Eric held her closely, his own wet face completely disregarded. When the playback finished, Spyder picked up the device and they all moved back to Astra's space. The entire arena was silent, but the air was charged with the violent emotions being projected by the assembled dragons. Glancing around, Eric could easily see how an angry dragon could induce “dragon freeze” in its victim. 'As you know, the Grays have been cleansed from this world. What most of you do not know is a prisoner was also taken during the raid for the devices and weapons which brought us this information. That prisoner informs us that Starfarer still lives, though frozen in stasis and on display for the amusement of the Gray young. The prisoner does not believe the Overmind of the Grays will return Starfarer to us, nor does he believe a peace can be reached between our species.' There was an angry buzz in their minds as the Grand Council digested Amber's thoughts. They had picked up the overtones of the Gray arrogance and conceit, and the inherent dismissal of the importance of a single life, even that of one of their own. Underneath, they also picked up a hint of Amber's plan. Suddenly, the noise was shut out of the human minds. All they could detect now was the physical sounds of dragons shifting around them, the slight whistle of the wind through the ridges, and

the distant call of herd beasts across the plain to the south. The dragons had shifted to a private channel for their planning. Eric measured the passage of time by the changes of the shadows in the amphitheater. As the sun neared its zenith, another clarion sounded in their heads. 'Bring forth the prisoner,’ Amber the Gold announced. The Gray suddenly materialized in the center of the arena, flanked by Ebon and Negron. Once they had deposited the prisoner, they shifted to their true forms and moved to their waiting spots in the first tier of the Blacks. 'Prisoner, you have been brought before the Grand Council of the AEthereals to provide answers to our questions. If you answer freely, you will not be harmed. If you resist, the information we need shall be stripped from your mind,’ Amber said. ‘Where is your home world?' Without conscious thought, the Gray's mind called up the position of his planet in the galaxy, even as his conscious mind sought to deny it. It was too late, for the focused attention and mental powers of thousands of AEthereals had already gleaned the information. 'Where is the one we call Starfarer, the AEthereal your race kidnapped from Earth millennia ago, being kept?' The Gray sought to plant false images in his mind, but in vain; all the while he knew the location of the imprisoned AEthereal and the focus of the Grand Council easily stripped the desired truth from him. The humans could feel the sudden change as the assembled dragons focused their astral thoughts into a single, almost coherent beam, slashing through space to the location of the lost AEthereal. One thousand Blacks and Browns vanished in a blue flash, an arrow launched along that beam. As the Battle Wing was launched, the Whites joined minds and blanketed out the captive Gray's frantic screams of warning to the Overmind. Through the conjoined mental link, the remaining Grand Council and the humans could see and experience the assault. The Battle Wing appeared over the Gray capital city in a blue flash, highlighted by the white-orange flare from their flaming breath. Using coordination only achievable through their mental link, the wing divided and fanned out across the city. Within moments, every building for five miles was in flames, except the one in the center—the one holding Starfarer. The Grays responded quickly, both physically and mentally. Waves of disorientation were blasted at the AEthereals, but the combination of rapid porting and sudden swerves in flight rendered the mental assault ineffective. Small aerial fighters swarmed up at the marauding dragons, firing beams of energy and various explosive projectiles. The AEthereals used their acrobatic skill and porting to avoid the beams and shells. The small Gray vehicles were soon obliterated by the sheer numbers of dragons flying against them. While the aerial battle waged above, a group of twenty AEthereals landed outside the building holding Starfarer. Since the structure had been built for Grays, they quickly shifted form to human in order to enter the building. They made their way to the exhibit holding Starfarer. Within the stasis enclosure, Starfarer had been posed with his wings extended and his forelimbs raised, claws spread. His lip was drawn back in what was supposed to be a snarl of rage, but was, in reality, an expression of intense pain. Attacking the stasis generators, the team managed to short them out and shut down the field. They walked over to the now-collapsed Green and reached out mentally for the metal restraints fastened around his rear legs and tore them away. They gathered their will as they laid their hands on their weak and wounded comrade, and called up a large portal. Joined by the collective will of the Grand Council, they brought Starfarer to the center of the amphitheater.

The Grays were now sending much larger ships against the AEthereals and the Battle Wing sprang a new tactic on them as the ships began to fire their beam weapons. Huge portals opened around the ships, transporting them outside the planet's atmosphere and far out into space. As soon as the clarion call of the Grand Council reached the Wing to inform them Starfarer had been rescued and was now safe, the Wing ported themselves back to Paradise, leaving the Gray capital city a smoking, burning ruin. **** As Starfarer appeared in the arena, the Whites released their mental hold on the Gray and he fell to his knees. ‘No! It is not possible! Overmind, you must do something!' Suddenly, the Gray jerked in spasms as if a tremendous surge of electrical energy was passing through his body. He fell to the ground, dead, as a tremendous voice rang in everyone's mind. 'The one is nothing! You are nothing! We are all!' Amber's mind, amplified by the assembled host, came back in answer. ‘Overmind! On behalf of the Grand Council of the AEthereals and the peoples of Earth, I ask you to cease this war upon us!' 'You are nothing. We know what the one knew. Even the joining with the humans will change nothing. Your fate has been sealed!' Despite repeated efforts by the Grand Council, the Overmind remained silent.

Chapter 23 A week after Starfarer's rescue, Astra finally returned to her home under the mountain. Judy, Eric and Spyder were sitting in the living room watching a DVD when Astra walked down the hallway and sat down in one of the Queen Anne chairs. "How is Starfarer?” Judy asked. "Alive and gaining back his strength,” Astra said. “His mind has been damaged by the millennia in captivity and stasis, but my mother is with him, helping him regain his identity and sense of self,” Astra added hopefully. "Now that you're back, Astra, the President has asked to speak with us at your convenience,” Eric said. “While he did mention the discussion had to do with the DARPA research on the Gray weapons, he said it could wait until you were available." Astra sighed heavily. “Call him and see when would be convenient for him. Perhaps this research will bring my people some good news." A few moments later, Eric said, “The President would be pleased to see us now in the Oval Office." "Very well, then,” Astra said as she stood. “Let us go see what the man has to say." **** "Lady Astra, I was thrilled to hear your father has been rescued.” The President led the group over to the now familiar sitting group. “Both Agent Deavers and Agent Johansson have told me of the raid to free him, as well as the Overmind's stripping of the captive Gray's mind and subsequent threats against both our species.” He paused a moment. “I've asked the lead scientists from the DARPA project to meet us in the Cabinet Room to brief you on what they've discovered.” Turning to look directly into Astra's eyes, he went on. “Lady Astra, these men know about the AEthereals and the Grays. I had to brief them so they understood what was going on and they could properly direct their efforts. They've seen the images from the Gray recorder and have finally come to accept the reality under which we now live. You need not worry about the secret of the AEthereal with these men." Judy studied the President as he was speaking to Astra. He looked tired and was losing weight. His skin was slightly ashen. He did not look well at all. She suddenly realized the President was aware of her scrutiny and she flushed slightly in embarrassment. He gave her a wan smile as he slowly stood, but she caught the fleeting flash of pain that etched his features as he straightened. "Sir, are you all right?” she asked. The President patted her hand as he passed her. “Well enough. Shall we join the others?" Judy reached out as she stood and laid her hand upon Astra's arm. Concentrating very hard, she thought ‘Astra'. Astra turned her attention to Judy. ‘What is it, Judy?' 'I think there's something wrong with the President. He's in pain and doesn't look at all well.' Astra nodded her head in understanding as they turned to join Eric and the President. He led them through a connecting door that opened into the Cabinet Room. At the far end of the table sat a collection of five DARPA scientists. A sixth man paced the room while mumbling to himself, turning to face them as they entered the room. The President waved to the empty seats, taking his own at the head of the table, as he said, “Doctor Wilson, please take a seat. Let me present Special Agents Judy Deavers and Eric Johansson.” The

President indicated the two agents with his hand. “And with great pleasure, allow me to introduce you to Lady Astra the White, Master Healer and Liaison to Humanity from the AEthereals.” He allowed the import of those words to sink in before he continued. “Doctor Wilson, why don't you introduce your team?" Doctor Wilson looked for a long moment at Astra, momentarily mesmerized by the AEthereal. He shook his head and then spoke. “I am Emmett Wilson, Director of DARPA. With me tonight is the research team that has been analyzing the Gray technology you recently provided. From left to right, may I present Doctor Emil Fontini, physics, Doctor Miguel Sanchez, metallurgy, Doctor David Borland, physics, Doctor Olav Bergstrom, electrical engineering, and our double doctor, Doctor Annalise Morgan, astrophysics and xenobiology.” They all exchanged polite nods and greetings. "Mr. President, Lady Astra, the analysis of the Gray technology has been fascinating, to say the least. We have identified seven elements previously unknown to our science. The metallurgy alone will take years to understand. We only disassembled items for which we had duplicates, but the inner workings of some of them remains a mystery, even after we took them apart and put them back together again." A slide show had begun on the screen behind Doctor Wilson as he spoke, showing the various Gray implements in various stages of disassembly. “Our mandate was to understand the workings of the weaponry and develop some form of defense against its affects. To ensure we understood exactly who we would be designing the defenses for, the President briefed this team on the AEthereals and their long struggle against the Grays in defense of both Earth and another planet settled by the AEthereals.” He paused, a wry smile played momentarily over his face. “At first, I thought the President had gone insane until we found the recording.” He looked at Astra as he said, “I understand your people have since rescued the captive AEthereal from the film.” At her nod, he went on. “Based on this information, we were able to consider defense ideas consistent with the evident size and strength of your species, rather than the limitations that would be necessary if the defenses had to be designed for humans." "It may come to that, Doctor,” Eric spoke up. “The Grays are now aware we are allies and have targeted both worlds for retribution." The doctor looked confused by the interruption. “Yes, well, we'll have to adapt it then.” He changed the slide. “The smaller weapon and the large are essentially the same, varying only in power. Somewhat analogous to our rifles and a howitzer. The larger one is roughly a thousand times more powerful than the personal weapon. They each send out a focused beam of extremely high frequency waves, somewhat like the suggested microwave beam. The beam is capable of passing through most tissues, exciting the molecules and inducing heat. The beam essentially cooks the victim from the inside. Not a pleasant way to die." "So how can we defend against it?” the President asked, seeing the pain and anger in Lady Astra's eyes at the doctor's somewhat irreverent speech. "Well, dense metals will block the beam, but that would be extremely impractical for a species that flies,” Doctor Annalise Morgan said, a small smile on her face. “However, the image of a flying armored dragon is still somewhat humorous considering our legends regarding your species.” Doctor Morgan relaxed after she caught Astra returning the woman's smile with one of her own. Suddenly, the door to the Cabinet Room burst open and members of the Secret Service detail rushed into the room. “Mr. President, ladies and gentlemen, you must come with us now.” As he spoke, the lead agent grabbed the President's arm and hustled him from the room. They were rushed to an elevator and taken deep under the White House to the massive bunker built in case of nuclear attack. "What's going on, people?” the President demanded as they entered the Situation Room.

Lady Astra spoke up over the din before the Air Force general could open his mouth. “Ebon has right now informed me a Gray fleet has just appeared in local space. They warped into normal space just behind the moon. There are over a hundred large vessels, capable of carrying many smaller attack craft able to enter the atmosphere." "Well, Mr. President, that's more information than I had,” the general admitted ruefully. “All we knew was that several unidentified objects had just cleared moon orbit on a trajectory toward Earth.” He looked at Astra as he asked, “Mr. President, who is this woman and who are the Grays?" "Lady Astra is the Liaison to Humanity from the AEthereals, a species who have been guarding the Earth for several million years, primarily from the Grays, who have been trying to take over this planet for over sixty-five million years,” the President said. “The Ebon of whom she spoke is her brother, the Guardian of this planet.” Turning to Astra, the President asked, “Lady Astra, what can we do?" "The Battle Wing is even now preparing to portal to Earth. They will destroy all the assault vehicles as they enter the atmosphere. Unfortunately, not even the AEthereal can exist in the vacuum of space. The close proximity of the ships to Earth and the moon preclude the use of asteroids to eliminate the larger transports." The President turned to Doctor Wilson. “Doctor, based on your analysis of the Gray metals, would a nuclear weapon harm them?" Doctor Sanchez spoke up. “Sir, their metals have some interesting properties but I see no reason why they would be immune to nuclear effects. Blast, heat, and radiation would affect them, just as it does most Earth materials. The closer the exposure, the more intense the effects would be." The President turned to the general. “Okay, General, we need to nuke those big ships. How do we do that?" The general looked very uncomfortable as he said, “Mr. President, despite what you've seen in the movies, we can't just launch our nuclear missiles into space. They aren't designed for that task.” He shook his head. “There's nothing in our arsenal that can reach the area near the moon quickly, nor accurately enough to deliver a nuclear payload on target. I'm sorry, sir." The President sat back in his chair, stunned. “Are we helpless then?" Judy looked at Astra, an idea forming in her mind. “Astra, could the AEthereals portal the nukes into space alongside the Gray vessels? If we timed it right, we could put the devices next to all of them at the same time and then remotely detonate them." "We could move the devices that far easily and instantly, Judy,” Astra responded. The general shook his head. “Remote detonation wouldn't work. It would take the signal a long time to reach the bombs at that distance. I'm sure the aliens would detect them during the period it would take for the signal to reach them." Astra spoke softly and everyone had to strain to hear her as she said, “Set the devices to explode at the same exact moment.” She looked around the table as she said in a louder tone, “We will deliver them to the ships just before the time runs out." In less than two hours, the President had arranged for the transfer of the one hundred and twenty-eight tactical nuclear devices now arrayed in rows covering the field inside Jack Kent Cook stadium. Each device had been set to deliver a ten kiloton yield. They were all armed now, awaiting the President's release to start their fatal countdown. Standing next to each device was a technician who had just armed the device, and who awaited word to verify the start of the timers. Each device was set to detonate five

minutes after the right codes were electronically transmitted to them. The technician's remaining job was to make sure the timers were activated when the code was given. Standing next to each technician stood an AEthereal in human form. Four minutes after activation, they would each port their device to the designated Gray ship. All eyes were on the President, who was listening to a report from the Pentagon. Astra turned to Judy and said, “The Grays have launched their attack ships. Over one thousand ships are now streaking toward the Earth, fanning out to strike at equidistant points around the globe." The President spoke to the Air Force general at his side, who in turn, spoke into his secure cellular telephone. Each of the technicians in the field raised their hand as the timers on the tactical nuclear weapons started their irrevocable countdown. They had all started at once; there had been no failures requiring the use of the spares. The AEthereals linked their minds, waiting for the command to transfer the weapons to their targets. Ebon watched the countdown timer reach one minute, fifty seconds, forty seconds, thirty seconds. “NOW.” The devices vanished from the field. They reappeared directly against the skin of the Gray ships at a point nearest the extrapolated position of the command bridge for each craft. Twenty seconds later, the night sky of Earth was lit by the near simultaneous detonation of all the devices. Both the astral scans by the AEthereals and the radar probes by the humans confirmed the large transport vessels had been obliterated. Even with the destruction of their mother ships, the Gray assault ships sped toward their designated points around the Earth. Single-minded to the extreme, the Grays seemed oblivious to the loss of their only means to return home. Astra spoke out to the President and his advisors. “We are ready for them and will use a technique we tried in the raid freeing Starfarer." As each ship entered the atmosphere, it was met by six dragons, who opened portals directly in front of the descending ships. The Gray ships vanished into the blue portals. "Lady Astra, where did they go? Where was the other end of those portals?” the President asked. Grimly, she answered, “About one hundred miles above the surface of the sun, deep in its gravity well where they had no chance to escape. This raid is over." The immediate crisis over, they returned to the Cabinet Room in the White House. The President looked at the DARPA Director. “Doctor Wilson, you were explaining about potential defenses against the Gray beam weapons. You obviously have ruled out armor. Were you able to come up with anything else?" "Yes, Mr. President, we have,” Doctor Wilson replied. “We've found a way of canceling the effects of the beam and collecting its energy, then enabling the dragon to project it back at its originating source.” Turning to the physicist seated at his right, he said, “Doctor Borland?" David Borland looked more like a outdoor guide than a scientist. Tall, rugged, his skin bronzed by the sun, obviously more accustomed to jeans and flannel shirts than the suit and tie he now wore. “Energy waves can be cancelled out by one that is its exact opposite.” He drew a typical sine wave on the whiteboard in the room using a blue marker. Taking a green marker, he carefully drew another wave, exactly opposite the first in amplitude. “The second wave mixes with the first, negating its effects. Obviously, it takes a brief period to detect the first wave and generate the corresponding canceling wave. Using very sensitive detection devices linked to high speed processors, we have been able to

respond to a wave in less than three microseconds, which is short enough to prevent any damage from the brief exposure." A slide appeared on the screen showing a fine mesh suit of wire with tiny sensors every few centimeters. “Using a suit woven of titanium wire, we can both detect the beam and generate the countering ray. The wire itself is no thicker than a spider's web, yet incredibly strong. I myself wore the prototype suit and had no problem moving around in it. The problem with the man-sized suit has been the weight of the processor and generating systems. We have managed to get it down to about one hundred fifty pounds. If we could use the Gray's own technology against them, we could reduce the weight even more. They have these ultra light, extremely powerful generators that we have, as yet, been unable to duplicate.” He turned to Astra as he asked, “Lady Astra, would it be possible to obtain more of these items?” The screen showed the Gray generator device. Eric recognized it from the raid on Paradise. "That should be possible, Doctor,” she replied. “I will speak with the Council." "With more of these on hand, I can see no reason why we couldn't fabricate the shield suits to fit your people in their natural forms,” Doctor Borland said. “The more exciting application is something else we found. We took a large shield of titanium and built energy collectors into its surface. We hooked those collectors to a storage device and trapped the energy within it. We modified the Gray personal weapon into something much larger and fitted it to the storage device and found we could send back a beam proportionate to the energy trapped by the collectors. We mounted the projector into the center of the shield so all the one wielding it would have to do is position the shield between him and those firing at him. The shield would then collect the beam and fire it right back at those projecting the original attack.” He chuckled. “Should come as something of a nasty surprise for the Grays when that beam comes right back at them." The President looked around at the group. “Okay, then. We need to obtain more of the Gray generators and then modify the shield suits to fit a few of the AEthereals. Lady Astra,” he said, turning to her, “would you take this to the Council and see if they will assist us with another reconnaissance mission?" Astra nodded her head in acquiescence. “I will speak with them and tell them of all you have said. The potential for your shield suit is high, but I do have some questions.” Turning to Doctor Borland, she asked, “How sure are you of these suits?" The doctor smiled back at her. “Very sure, Lady Astra. After some extensive tests, I know they work. They can even withstand the blast from the large beam weapon at close range. There is a brief sensation of warmth during the few microseconds it takes to analyze the beam and generate the counter wave, but it isn't uncomfortable." "And how would you know that, Doctor?” the President asked. "Because I wore the suit myself during the final tests,” replied Doctor Borland. **** As the meeting broke up, the President escorted Astra and the agents back into the Oval Office. “Lady Astra, please thank the Council for their actions today. Without you, Earth would have been wide open to the Grays." "It is nothing. This is our planet, too, and we have always defended it. We will be stationing some Blues to do some local and deep space monitoring to give us more warning, should they try to sneak up on us again. We will do the same with Paradise.” Astra looked at the President. “Forgive me for this intrusion, but I sense you are not well."

The President looked at her and hung his head. “I am not, Lady Astra. I am dying. I only found out this morning, in fact. I have pancreatic cancer, quite advanced and incurable.” Judy felt tears spring to her eyes as he added, “I had hoped for more time to settle things between our people, but that isn't in the cards for me." Astra quietly asked, “Since your own doctors can do nothing, may I try to help you?" The President stared out the window into the Rose Garden and thought for a few moments, afraid of false hopes. Finally, he turned to face her again. “Yes, please. Even if you can't cure me, perhaps you can do something for the pain." At Astra's request, the President stretched out on the sofa. Both agents moved away to give him some privacy and dignity, and to prevent some motion of theirs from disturbing Astra's concentration. Astra focused her awareness on the man's form in front of her. Deep inside his body, her awareness searched for signs of illness. A sharp feeling of wrongness pervaded several areas of his body, areas where the cells had gone wrong and begun to multiply abnormally. The cancer had spread but she found she could easily detect it down to the individual cell. Experimenting with just one cancerous growth, she opened a tiny portal around the cell and whisked it away. The energy needed was infinitesimal. She began to eliminate all the cancerous cells, working methodically throughout his whole body. Within fifteen minutes, the wrongness had vanished. Astra then expanded her study of the man, carefully checking for anything else that might imperil his life. As expected, he had some heavy arterial buildup, which would eventually cause blockages and trigger a heart attack. She carefully expunged the plaque from within his blood vessels, strengthening any that had been weakened. She sat back in her chair and released a deep sigh of satisfaction. This fine man would live another thirty or forty years. “Mr. President, you may sit up now." He swung his legs over and sat up. His face was radiant with joy at the absence of the chronic pain he had been experiencing. “Lady Astra, bless you. I've never felt better in my life!” He stood up. “Whatever you did has taken away the pain." She stood. “The cancer is gone, as is the cholesterol that was building up in your heart and arteries.” She smiled at him. “You will be with us for a very long time to come.” Turning her head to Eric and Judy, she said, “We must go now. The Council must be told of all this and plans must be made." "And I,” the President said, “must figure out something to tell the world about what happened in space today."

Chapter 24 Astra's report of her meeting with the President and DARPA scientists generated a great deal of excitement from the Council members, especially the warriors. The idea of a means of protecting themselves from the Gray weapons and no longer suffering the loss of their friends and loved ones was a tremendous boost to the morale of the AEthereals. Combined with the defeat of the invasion force, the AEthereals were in a very expansive mood. When she explained the need to obtain more of the Gray generators, Celadon the Green stood to speak. "We are aware of several other planets where the Grays have settled. I would recommend a small force of both human and AEthereals be sent there as soon as possible. I would lead the expedition to the planet myself, taking my mate, Terra, as well as Indigo the Blue and his mate, Sienna the Orange. This would provide us with two warriors, a scientist, and an explorer." Astra replied, “I would propose both Eric Johansson and Judy Deavers, plus two of the DARPA scientists. The physicist, David Borland, who designed the shield suit, and the woman, Annalise Morgan, who is a xenobiologist and astrophysicist. The two scientists can be adequately protected by the human agents, as well as by our own presence." Judy was both surprised and a little apprehensive about being included. No matter how many years she'd spent as an agent, nothing had prepared her for a mission like this one. A trip to another world filled with aliens bent on destroying humanity, accompanied by what were considered to be mythical creatures! Eric squeezed her hand in support as if he could read her apprehensions. His quiet strength calmed her nerves; she somehow knew everything would be all right as long as she was with him. Once the Council had unanimously voted in support of the mission, Astra brought them back to her mountain retreat. They were accompanied by Celadon, Indigo, Terra and Sienna. "We'll need to contact the two DARPA scientists to see whether they're interested in going with us,” Eric said. “Although, I cannot imagine how any real scientist wouldn't jump at the chance." Judy hung up her cell phone. “According to the White House, the DARPA team is on its way back to Groom Lake and should be landing in about an hour. I've asked for them to meet us in the Conference Room at their facility in about two hours." Astra gestured for the others to be seated in the large living room. “Celadon, just how many Gray worlds have you found?" "Too many. They have taken over a hundred planetary systems.” Celadon shook his head. “What is worse are the thousands of systems we have found where they have already been. The Grays are planet strippers. They leave behind dead or dying planets, all stripped of useful minerals, bereft of life, and with dwindling atmospheres. They have been moving through the universe like a great plague of locusts. They take over a planet or a systems of planets, strip it of everything they can use, and then move on to another." Eric came back into the room wearing his SEAL mission clothes—black fatigues and combat boots, weapons harness with his 9mm semiautomatic pistol and knife—and carrying a small bag containing his night vision equipment, black hood and gloves. Seeing him, Judy said, “I think we're going to need some of those fancy recon clothes of yours, Eric. Got any way to get us some once we have sizes?" He nodded his head. “Already taken care of it. I spoke with the head of the Groom Lake security detail. He's taking care of it.” He paused, “Judy, you once told me you qualified as an expert with every hand weapon. Did that include an MP5?"

Judy nodded. “Sure, I've used those before. Why?" "Because that's what we'll be carrying along with our handguns when we go." **** Two hours later, they ported into the Groom Lake Conference Room. They each sat down around the table and waited for the arrival of the two DARPA scientists. Moments later, David Borland and Annalise Morgan walked in. Quickly, they took their seats. "I won't ask how you got here before we did,” Borland said. “Obviously, something has come up that you need information from us about, but why just us? Why not the whole team?" Eric spoke up. “Doctor Borland, you requested some more of the Gray generators. The Council approved the reconnaissance mission to obtain them. They have also suggested the two of you come along." Annalise looked startled and excited. “Come along? You mean, go with you to some other planet?" Astra said, “Yes, we want your expertise along with us. Doctor Borland might see something useful we would otherwise overlook. You could use the time to study what we see to learn more about the Grays and perhaps help us defeat them." Borland said, “I'm in. You know, I use to be in Marine Recon, so I have some background in this. Judging from your outfit, Agent Johansson, you were a SEAL. What about the rest of these folks?" "Let me introduce you to them,” Astra said. “This is Celadon, head of our explorers. He is the one who will lead us to the target Gray world. Indigo is one of our leading scientists. I am sure you will have much to discuss with one another, especially about the design of the shield suits. Terra and Sienna are both warriors who are charged with protecting us.” She paused. “I am the Master Healer and will be responsible for any medical emergencies that may arise. Eric and Judy are both trained federal agents who will guard the two of you." Annalise Morgan nodded her head, “Of course, I'm in! The chance to see a real alien civilization is too much to pass on.” A small, sheepish grin flitted across her face as she added, “I've never done anything brave and I'm scared to death, but I wouldn't miss this for anything." Eric spoke up. “I've arranged with the security chief here to get you fitted with the necessary clothing for the mission.” Eric paused, “Have either of you ever had any weapons training? I presume as a former Marine Recon member, you can still handle a gun?” At Borland's nod, Eric added, “Okay, I'll get you a weapons load. What about you, Doctor Morgan?” When she nodded, Eric said, “Okay, I'll get you one. While you're getting outfitted, I need you to think about what else you will need to take with you. Remember, whatever you take, you'll have to carry yourselves." Eric summoned the security chief and led Judy and the two scientists off to get fitted. As soon as the door closed behind them, Eric turned to the group. “Well, we're better off than I thought. Borland's Marine Recon training is almost as good as that of the SEAL's and he looks like he's still in good shape. And while Doctor Morgan has no training for something like this, she's also in decent physical shape and game enough to see it through." Astra spoke, “I ran a quick scan of both. They are in good health and I detected nothing that would interfere with the mission." About thirty minutes later, the three returned, now clad in the black outfits Eric had requested. Instead of combat boots, each was wearing black running shoes. Both Judy and Borland also had weapons harnesses bearing the designated combat load requested by Eric. Eric checked the fit of each item of equipment, adjusting a strap here and there to make the harnesses more secure.

Standing in front of Borland, he asked, “Ever use night vision gear?” At the man's nod, he said, “Good, you can help Doctor Morgan with hers.” He gestured for them all to be seated at the table once more. “Look, the use of all these titles has got to go. I'm Eric and she's Judy." "Call me Dave,” said Doctor Borland. "And I'm Lise, just Lise,” Doctor Morgan said. “I never could stand being called Anna." "Okay, then. We've had a full day today and not much sleep. I recommend we all get some rest and meet back here in about twelve hours. By that time, Lise and Dave, I expect you to have whatever you think you'll need for this mission ready for me to look over.” Seeing their nods of agreement, he turned to the AEthereals. “Judy and I will stay here tonight. Why don't you all take off and we'll see you again in about twelve hours?" Both Dave and Lise were stunned as the five AEthereals ported out in front of them. “How did they do that?” Dave asked. "Well, Dave, I'm no scientist like you are, but simply put, they open a portal to wherever they want to go and then step through it. I have no clue how they do it, but it works and that's good enough for me. And it better be good enough for you both, because that's how we'll get where we're going tomorrow.” Eric stood. “Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be another busy day." **** Mission Day began early for the human portion of the team. Eric took the other three out to Groom Lake's firing range to make sure they knew how to handle the weapons they had been assigned and to get the arms themselves sighted in correctly. As expected, Judy was an artist with her weapons. All fifteen rounds from her issue 9mm handgun had scored in the center of the target, essentially erasing the small black circle. Her careful short bursts with the MP5 kept her shot patterns tight and well within the black. Dave Borland wasn't quite as good, but still Eric felt confident about the man's ability. Annalise Morgan, on the other hand, was a danger to herself and others when it came to weapons. She didn't have the wrist strength to control the recoil of the 9mm; in fact, when she fired the first round, the gun fell from her hand. None of her shots with the MP5 came anywhere near her target; most went into the wooden ceiling over the range platform. Eric quickly took the weapons away from her. After the team had cleaned the weapons and reloaded their magazines with fresh ammunition, Eric gave them a quick course in the night vision equipment. “These special goggles do several things. First, with the night vision turned on, they can enable you to see clearly, even when it's extremely dark. Do not, however, look toward any intense source of light. Even something as small as a flashlight can overload the equipment and render you temporarily blind.” Flipping a switch, he set them to daylight mode. “In this mode, the goggles serve as binoculars, providing a distance range to whatever you are looking at. The goggles are connected to a digital video recorder, so anything you see through them will be recorded for later study and review.” He looked at Lise as he added, “That's why I said you didn't need to bring along your camera, Lise. We'll have four of them running throughout the mission.” Turning back to the group as a whole, he added a warning. “The drawback to these things is you have no peripheral vision. You must always keep your head moving, checking the sides. Because, people, it's what you don't see that ends up getting you killed." Next, he demonstrated the lightweight radio headsets they would be using. Since the Grays were a telepathic species, they had decided the low-power radios were worth the risk. He cautioned them all to keep the voice chatter to a minimum. When asked whether the AEthereals would also be using the radios, Eric told them they were also telepathic and could communicate just fine without them.

"The others will be here soon. Do either of you want to back out? Now is your last chance,” Judy asked the two scientists. "No way! Let's do it!” Dave responded, excited. Lise shook her head slowly. “No, I'm going. I'm still scared to death, but I'm going." "Okay, bathroom break. Everyone needs to go now, because once the mission starts, there will be no opportunity. Let's meet back here in ten minutes,” Eric instructed them. As if waiting for their return to the conference room, the appearance of the blue nimbus was their only warning of the arriving AEthereals. Eric was amazed by their appearance. Each was clad in black leather outfits, almost identical in cut and style to the human black fatigues. Each wore black running shoes. Eric thought they were wearing black camouflage dye on their faces and hands until he realized they had actually darkened their skin to a soft matte black. Even Astra's shining white hair was now a soft black, as dark as a pool of India ink. None of the AEthereals carried any weapons but Eric knew that each was more than capable of defending themselves against the Grays. Celadon spoke. “Is everyone ready? We are going to a small hill outside one of the Gray cities. There is a facility at its base that appears to be some kind of storage area. I am hoping we can find the generators there. It will be dusk when we arrive with just enough light to get your bearings and look things over before true night falls." "I thought we would pair up as follows. Terra and Sienna will each escort one of the human males and I will take Judy. Astra and Indigo will take the other human female. This will allow our five warriors to immediately spread out to protect the rest of us. Once there, I will give control of the mission to you, Eric, since you have the most experience with this kind of thing. Let me remind you that Terra and Sienna will protect Indigo and myself, so don't worry about us in your planning. Astra knows all she needs to do is portal out at the first sign of trouble." Eric nodded. “Sounds like a plan, Celadon. As Dave said a few minutes ago, let's do it!" The sun had already set behind the mountains and night was falling quickly when they appeared on the backside of the hill above the Gray facility. They quickly dropped to a prone position and Eric lowcrawled to the crest of the hill. Eric slipped his goggles over his eyes and began studying the approach to the facility. There were some bushes of some kind dotting the side of the hill and these would provide cover until they were very near the edge of the complex. Switching his goggles to infrared, he looked for heat signatures that might indicate hidden life forms. Other than the glow from the roadway around the building, undoubtedly caused by the sun heating its surface during the daylight hours, there did not seem to be any living creatures around. He also could not detect any kind of sensor beams between their position and the target. Sliding back down to the rest of the group, he whispered “Okay, once it gets fully dark, we'll crawl down there single file. There are plenty of bushes to give us cover." "Why can't we just port down there?” Lise asked. "Because the bright blue nimbus of light would be like a beacon in the dark. Porting should only be done if there's an emergency or when we're leaving,” Eric explained. “Everyone get comfortable, because we have a while to wait.” As everyone else laid back on the hillside, Eric crawled back up the hill to watch the facility. At least it's cool. Nothing worse than doing these missions when it's really hot and the camouflage makeup starts to run and streak and the fatigues stick to me. Unless it's when it's really cold and my breath makes small white clouds to give away my position. His eyes were constantly scanning the

facility, looking for access points while watching for any kind of activity that might indicate a Gray presence. There was a slight noise as both Judy and Dave crawled up alongside Eric. They both scanned the area. Dave indicated a shallow dip in the ground that ran from their left down the hill toward the facility. There was a slight pop in their ears as Dave triggered his microphone. Softly, he said, “That looks like the best approach. I'd like to ease my way down there and take a closer look.” At Eric's nod, Dave slipped over the edge of the hill and slowly crawled over to the indicated declivity. Eric approved of the man's technique. Every movement was very slow since it was sudden motion that caught the eye. It took Dave fifteen minutes to inch his way into the small gully. Once there, he took advantage of the screening flora and made his way more rapidly down the hill. Judy grabbed Eric's arm as a Gray walked out of the building. “Freeze,” whispered Eric into his microphone. Neither could see Dave as he had blended himself into the natural shadow of the depression and the bushes. The Gray walked around outside for a moment, looked up at the night sky, and then walked back inside. "So that's a Gray,” came the whisper on Eric's other side. Lise had crawled up next to them right after Dave had gone over the crest. “Isn't it interesting that it looks just like all those Hollywood representations and matches the descriptions of all the discounted abductees from the last few decades?" "Where are the AEthereals?” Judy asked. "Astra said they were going to do some astral exploration, but it looks like they're asleep,” Lise replied. Judy smiled. “They aren't asleep. They've let their senses expand outward and are exploring the area using those senses. It's like they can step outside their bodies and wander around unseen.” Looking down the hill at the dark shapes of the recumbent AEthereals, she added, “They're probably wandering around inside the facility counting the Grays and seeing what they can find." 'Exactly right, Judy,’ came Astra's thought. ‘Everyone, the area is clear for you to come inside.' The humans scrambled over the ridge and ran down to Dave Borland. As a group, they made their way over to the access door for the facility. They each had to stoop just a little to fit through the doorway, especially Eric. The inside of the facility was about twenty feet tall. The building was filled with the Gray equivalent of shipping crates in assorted shapes and sizes. They quickly fanned out in search of the desired generators while Annalise Morgan went over to one of the Gray terminals. "What are you doing?” demanded Judy. "I developed an interface for the Gray devices while at Groom Lake,” Lise replied as she plugged a special cable into the Gray terminal. The other end of the cable she plugged in to her laptop, which she had insisted upon bringing on the mission. “I installed the interface on this laptop. Using it, I can copy data from the Gray terminal for analysis back on Earth." Movement from the corner of the room spun Judy around in time to be facing a Gray entering through an opening that had irised in the wall. Without truly thinking the matter through, she fired a quick three shot burst from her MP5, hitting the Gray in the head with all three rounds and throwing the creature back against the wall. "Sitrep!” barked Eric over the radio. "I had to take out a Gray who surprised us at the terminal. If they all know what one does, then they all know we're here now,” Judy replied.

"Damn, so much for secrecy. Everybody, look sharp! We can expect visitors any moment,” Eric relayed to everyone on the radio. "And watch the walls. This one walked in through an opening that hadn't been there before,” Judy added. Turning to Lise, she said, “Hurry up, Lise. We may have to leave at a moment's notice." "This data is important!” Lise said. "More important than living? The next ones that come in will know we're here and have weapons.” The sound of gunfire from the other end of the building emphasized her point. David's voice sounded in her ear over the radio, “Three Grays down. These were armed with some kind of projectile weapon different from the ones at Groom Lake. I've snagged some for study." "Pull back to the hill. I repeat, pull back to the hill,” Eric called over the radio, his words punctuated by the sound of his own MP5 firing. "Come on, Lise. We have to go!” Judy said. "Just another minute.” Judy began to reach for the scientist when Lise suddenly dropped to the ground. "I'm hit,” Lise said weakly. Judy could see blood running from the woman's side. "Lise is down. She's been hit by some kind of projectile,” Judy reported over the radio. Ducking her head to avoid an incoming round, she flinched as slivers of metal lanced into the back of her neck from the near miss. “Lots of incoming. Need some backup!" Lise was pulling the cable from the terminal and tucking her laptop back into the carrying case strapped to her chest. “Got ... the ... data...” she whispered as she faded into unconsciousness. Judy lost count of the number of Grays shooting at her now. The incoming rounds looked like long drill bits and they moved with incredible swiftness. They reminded her of the Hollywood idea of a ray gun projectile. One projectile glanced off her body armor and nicked her left bicep. Damn, that hurt! Slapping her last clip into her MP5, she let loose with a couple of bursts that caught two of the Grays as they tried to move closer to her position. Suddenly, there was a tremendous roar and a wall of flame between the Grays and her position. She turned her head and gaped in amazement. The Oranges had shifted to natural form, ripping the roof off the building, and were both shielding the withdrawal of the others with their bodies while washing flames over the Grays attacking Judy and Lise. Astra ported in to their position. She grabbed Lise's hand and Judy's shoulder, opened another portal, and pulled them both to safety. Astra's cavern had never looked so good to Judy. She reached down to strip off the injured scientist's shirt while Astra concentrated on the wound. The projectile had actually punched through the armored vest and went into Lise's side. It had lost some of its momentum passing through the vest and drilled itself through her liver and came to a stop against the other side of the vest, trapped inside the bleeding woman. Astra quickly ported the projectile outside onto the sands of her cave and then started healing the injuries Lise had sustained. Using steady and meticulous effort, Astra healed the injuries. Sitting back on her heels, Astra said, “She will live. She is weak from blood loss, but she will be fine. Now, let me look at your arm and neck.” Astra took a light grip on Judy's wrist to steady her arm and sent her senses into the torn tissue. In Judy's case, the projectile had been a ricochet off her vest and had just cut through the soft tissue of the arm. Astra quickly mended the torn blood vessels and damaged muscle, finally closing the skin itself. “There. Better?” she asked Judy. "Where are the others?” Judy asked.

Astra concentrated. “They are withdrawing now. Terra and Sienna have set fire to the entire warehouse. Indigo and Celadon had collected Eric and David and are coming here right about now." A blue shimmer announced the forming portal and then there they were. Eric and David surged forward. Astra held up her hands. “Easy, boys. They are both fine. I have healed their wounds. This one,” she said, pointing at Lise, “is still weak from blood loss and needs to be taken to one of the bedrooms to rest." Without a word, Dave scooped Lise up in his arms and said, “Show me where to take her." Eric guided the scientist to one of the spare bedrooms. Celadon and Indigo waved their hands and ported out. Judy and Astra began walking toward the living areas after Judy picked up Lise's computer from the ground, where it had been put after it was taken from the injured scientist. "Well, I guess we've failed in our mission. At least we all got out alive,” Judy said as they walked down the slope to the doorway. “Wait a minute. Did Terra and Sienna get home okay?" Astra smiled. “Yes, they opened a portal around themselves right after everyone else left. They went directly back to Paradise since that was the area they are most familiar with. The projectile weapons had no effect on them and they were quite immune to the fires they started." "That's good, then. Perhaps there's something in all this data Lise collected,” Judy said, as she sat the laptop down on a small table next to the entry to the living area. Flopping down in one of the chairs, she said, “I'm so tired. Do you ever experience the crash that follows a huge adrenaline rush?" "Unlike you, I was never in any danger, so I did not have that rush you speak of,” Astra said. “An AEthereal's body is different from yours. We do not really have much in the way of an adrenal gland, nor does our body require adrenaline to trigger any kind of ‘fight or flight’ reflex. AEthereals innately know they are the rulers of the sky and land and, as such, have little fear in them. This can be a bad thing when we are confronted by something capable of doing us harm.” She sighed. “Perhaps that is why so many of us fell to the Grays. It was inconceivable to us that something so small and visually harmless as a Gray could be capable of killing one of us.” She looked over at Judy and smiled. The woman was fast asleep. Astra rose and went in search of the other human female, the one called Lise. She found her asleep in bed in one of the spare rooms. The male, David, was asleep in the chair next to it, his hand resting on the sleeping woman's arm in a protective gesture as old as the species. Astra quietly concentrated on them both, making sure all was well with them. The repairs she had made on the woman were complete and there was no sign of any infection from the injury. The man was just exhausted by the stress of the combat and from worry about the female. She stole quietly from the room. She found Eric asleep in his room, stretched across his bed without even removing his weapon harness. She quietly concentrated, deepening his sleep. Then she efficiently removed his gear, boots and clothes, slipping him under the sheets of his bed. Afterward, she did the same to Judy, tucking her into the bed like a small child. Humans, it seemed, bring out my maternal instincts. I wonder where Spyder is? With that question in her mind, she reached out with her senses and found the computer genius hard at work in the computer lab. She walked down to the conference room turned computer center and found Spyder cleaning the laptop. "Whose laptop is this? Man, it's a mess. There's something sticky all over it,” Spyder said as he cleaned the case with an isopropol alcohol wipe.

"It belongs to the scientist in the spare bedroom.” Astra waited a minute before adding, “That is her blood you are washing off." "Say what?” Spyder asked, frozen in mid-wipe. He looked down at the collection of smeared wipes and recognized it as blood for the first time. “What happened?” He resumed cleaning the computer. "The Grays found us inside their warehouse. The woman and Judy were both injured by projectile weapons.” Seeing the question forming in the young man's eyes, she added, “They are all fine now, Spyder. She will be grateful to you for cleaning up this laptop, since it contains all the information she was able to download from the Grays’ computer system." "Really? Wonder what she found,” Spyder said curiously as he looked at the laptop. Recognizing the danger in that tone, Astra warned him, “Leave it alone, Spyder. Do not turn it on or do anything other than clean it. I am warning you." "Yes, ma'am,” Spyder acknowledged a little wistfully. **** Astra went in to check on her patient in the morning, carrying with her a change of clothing for the woman. “How are you feeling this morning?" "Much better. In fact, other than being hungry, I feel great, which is amazing since I distinctly remember being shot. I just can't seem to find any holes in my hide anywhere,” Lise replied. “I suspect I have you to thank for that. Now I understand what a Master Healer does!" Astra smiled at the woman. “It was nothing, just some simple repairs to soft tissue.” Laying the clothes on the bed, she added, “I have brought you something to put on. Your fatigues did not survive as well as you did. The bath is through there,” Astra said. “Once you are ready, come down to the kitchen and we will have breakfast.” With that, Astra withdrew from the room. Judy and Eric had already reached the kitchen. A confused David Borland had found them there. He turned to Eric and asked, “Where are we, anyway?" "You are in my home,” came Astra's reply as she entered the kitchen. Taking the offered cup of hot chocolate, she told them that Lise was fine and would join them in a few minutes. After asking whether anyone was hungry, she found herself sitting on a stool watching them fix pancakes, omelets, bacon and toast. The smell of bacon frying lured Spyder out of his room just as Lise joined the group. "You will need to fix more than that as we will have guests for breakfast,” Astra said as the shimmer of blue announced the arrival of Celadon, Indigo, Terra and Sienna. Over their breakfast, the group dissected the mission. Dave Borland summed it up as a failure. “We went there to get some of their generators and came away empty-handed." "What about my laptop? Did we bring back my laptop?” Lise asked, franticly. Spyder spoke up. “I have it in the computer center. I cleaned it up for you." "Spyder is our resident computer expert,” Judy explained. "You didn't turn it on, did you?” Lise asked. Spyder looked up, innocence personified. “No, ma'am, I did not. All I did was clean all the blood and dirt off it."

Indigo spoke in the silence that followed Spyder's reminder of the injuries Lise had sustained. “Doctor Borland, do you still have the picture of the generators you wanted?" "Sure, why do you ask?” Dave replied as he handed the photograph to the AEthereal scientist. A smile broke out on Indigo's face as he studied the picture. “As you recall, both Terra and Sienna reverted to normal form in our defense. Once we had all escaped, they opened a portal to Paradise. Two full-sized Oranges take a rather large portal and it encompassed a portion of the warehouse around and between them. Within that portion were many storage boxes containing a variety of items, including the very generators we went there to obtain."

Chapter 25 Indigo took the excited Dave Borland to see the items inadvertently brought back during the raid, accompanied by Celadon, Terra and Sienna. Lise remained behind in Astra's retreat, still a little weak from the blood loss she had sustained. She and Spyder wandered into the computer lab, speaking in terminology Eric referred to as “Uber-Geek". Eric, Judy and Astra decided to go for a swim. After an hour or so in the lake, they each lay back on their towels and just rested. It had been a very active couple days and they felt they had earned the break. When they decided to return to the living quarters, they found both Lise and Spyder waiting for them. Lise spoke first. “Would it be possible for Spyder to come help me at Groom Lake? I could really use his expertise with the Gray computer systems." Spyder interjected, “It's not like you guys really need me here anymore. I really want to do this. Lise and I have already found some ideas to try to decipher the Gray data." Since they could come up with no logical objections, Judy promised to speak with the President about getting Spyder the requisite clearances. The two went back to the lab to work some more on their ideas. Looking at her watch, she decided the President was probably awake. She dialed the White House and asked for the President. When he came on the line, she said, “Sir, the mission was a success. We obtained a quantity of the generators. Doctor Morgan has asked to have Spyder assigned to Groom Lake to assist with the decoding of the Gray data. Apparently, Spyder is uniquely qualified to assist her.” She listened for a moment, then laughed. “Yes, sir. I'll tell him that. Thank you. We'll take care of his relocation ourselves, sir. Yes, sir. Goodbye.” She was still chuckling when she disconnected from the call and walked down to the lab. "Okay, Spyder, you've got your wish. The President says you can go to Groom Lake. He told me to tell you that if you betray his trust, you'll be buried there. Not only that, you are restricted to the facility,” Judy said. “You can go when Lise is ready to return." Lise walked up to them. “I cannot thank you all enough for the tremendous experience and opportunity you have given me. I never dreamed I would be able to visit another world or see real aliens. I especially never dreamed I would get to see a real fire-breathing dragon.” Taking Astra's hand, she said, “I owe you my life. I'll spend the remainder of my days working to help the AEthereals in whatever way I can. Please, come see me some day." "We will, Doctor Annalise Morgan. There is no doubt our paths will cross again in the future,” Astra said. “Spyder, why do you not go pack your things for transfer to Groom Lake? Eric will assist you, and,” she said, forestalling Spyder's question, “yes, you can take the big computer system with you. None of us know how to operate it, anyway." Spyder's exultant whoop of glee rang off the walls as he raced, not to his room, but to the computer lab to start packing up the system. “The man has his priorities,” Eric said, as he turned to pack Spyder's clothes for shipment. **** Two weeks passed after Spyder moved to Groom Lake when Astra, Eric, and Judy were summoned to meet with the DARPA team once more. Upon arriving in the conference room, they were warmly greeted by Doctor Wilson.

"Thank you for coming so quickly and thank you so much for the gift of this brilliant young man,” he said, gesturing at the smug Spyder sitting down the table. “He has enabled us to make huge advances in understanding the Gray technology. In fact, Spyder, why don't you tell us what you've found?" Spyder stood but before he could speak, Astra said, “And without all the computer terms, please. You know I do not understand it." Spyder grinned at her. “Okay, simple it is. Between the data Doctor Morgan recovered and all the artifacts we have from the two raids, plus the old Roswell crash, we've been able to decipher a great deal of the Gray written text. As we suspected, the initial layers of the Morgan data dealt with the inventory of the storage facility. However, underneath that layer, Doctor Morgan had somehow tapped into the Gray central core and she was able to extract an incredible wealth of information." A star chart appeared on the screen behind Spyder. “The Grays have been spreading throughout the universe for millions of years.” Spyder pressed a button and the slide changed subtly. About twenty percent of the stars were now shaded in yellow. “The Grays presently occupy worlds in these star systems.” Another slide appeared, this time, showing a large number of stars in red. “The systems shown in red have been abandoned by the Grays. The supposition that the Grays are planet strippers is correct. They invade a world, strip it of its natural resources over a span of millennia, and then move on. None of this is a surprise to us, since the AEthereals had already told us this was what they had found. There is, however, some very interesting information." Another view of the star chart appeared. In addition to the red and yellow areas, there was now a vast collection of stars colored in blue, comprising almost forty percent of the chart. “These star systems were marked by the Grays as containing a hostile species they refer to as the Guardians. It seems these Guardians were genetically developed to combat the Grays and protect the systems in which they were placed. Since the Grays are telepathic, so are the Guardians. Not to belabor the obvious, the Guardians are the AEthereals." Astra sat there stunned, looking at the star chart. She called out with her mind for Indigo and Celadon to join her. Within seconds, the two AEthereals had arrived. Spyder repeated what he had just said, and Celadon studied the chart. “How very interesting. None of us have traveled to any of those worlds before. Could it be? Are there others like us on all those worlds?" Indigo spoke up, “This information would make clear many things that have bothered me about the development of the AEthereals. We are too mature a species to have evolved on this planet, with too many abilities not found in other native species. Even our life spans militate against a natural evolutionary development. Plus, there has never been any intermingling of the color groups in our young; they have always bred true, regardless of the color combination of the parents. Long have the Blues discussed this, yet have never found a satisfactory answer.” He grew silent for a moment as he sent a mental message to Astra. ‘This would also explain why we have only been able to breed on Earth. Our creators seems to have built in some kind of inhibitor.’ Turning his attention back to Spyder, Indigo asked, “Do the Grays make any mention of who was responsible for creating us?" "Believe it or not, but here's another case of popular science fiction becoming true. The Grays reference abandoned cities and technologic marvels found on a myriad of worlds they've conquered. Like our writers today, they merely refer to the lost race as ‘the Ancients'.” Spyder sat down. “The Grays believe the Ancients abandoned their worlds to avoid conflict with the Grays, but they created the Guardians to wage that war in their place. They have no idea where the Ancients went but they have carefully charted the systems that held Guardians." "This is incredible information and it is something which the Blues must discuss. You will provide us with copies of this information?” Indigo asked.

"Of course we will,” Doctor Wilson said. Celadon spoke up. “I imagine the Greens will also have much to think about, including perhaps a trip to one of those Blue stars. Imagine, another world of AEthereals!” He shook his head in wonder. Doctor Morgan spoke out. “We also have learned a great deal about the Gray society, and none of it good. The Grays have a true hierarchal society with workers, soldiers and a ruling class. In structure, their society is remarkably similar to ones found in the insect world. The workers, or drones, do all the work supporting the society, including the deep space research. The soldiers defend the society from outside aggressors, or are used to wage war to conquer new territory. The ruling class decides the direction society will take to achieve whatever goals they have set.” She paused. “Each of those yellow stars represents a system filled with these Gray creatures. Each world has a ruling class, soldier class and drone class. The ruling class uses their vast telepathic abilities to direct the other classes. Those other classes are genetically programmed to obey the ruling class. Absolutely nothing can dissuade a drone or a soldier from carrying out the instructions from a member of the ruling class.” She looked around the table. “Think back to the recent attack on Earth. Even after the transport ships had been destroyed, the Gray assault ships never deviated from their planned attack strategy. I don't believe they were even capable of deviating. I believe the imposed instructions from their ruling class took precedence even over their own survival. Remember the words of the Overmind, ‘The One is nothing'." Astra looked at Lise Morgan and asked, “And where does this Overmind fit into this society? "The Overmind is the joining of the minds of the ruling class. As near as we've been able to tell, the joining isn't affected by distance. The Overmind is the joint consciousness of the ruling class on all those worlds, sharing knowledge virtually instantaneously.” Lise looked around the table as she said, “And that means the Grays, on each and every one of those planets, knows about the raid we made and they knew it from the moment the first Gray walked in on me and Judy. What one Gray knows, they all know." "Why do you suppose the Grays have chosen to battle with the Guardians over Earth and Paradise?” Eric asked. "The answer for Paradise is easy. When a Gray drone made its initial survey, there were no AEthereals on the planet. It was ideal for their needs, so they mobilized a colony operation to take the planet. Once they arrived, however, there were the AEthereals. Instant war,” Doctor Morgan explained. “Earth, however, is another story. For whatever reason, the Grays felt they had a chance to eliminate the Guardians on Earth. Whether it was because you were cut off from the other Guardian worlds, or had yet to fully master your abilities to teleport, the records don't say. They decided to send the asteroid to create a climatic upheaval sure to eliminate most life from the planet. Shortly afterward, that particular colony was wiped out in a conflict with some of your cousins as the Grays passed through their space. This allowed Earth to remain uncolonized. When the Grays finally returned to see what had happened, mankind had evolved and the AEthereals were nowhere in evidence. The Grays began random study of the planet, trying to decide whether to wipe us out and take what they needed when they started losing their ships without explanation. This was, of course, due to the patrols the AEthereals placed to keep the Grays off this world." "A logical deduction,” Indigo said, “based on the evidence you have obtained. I wonder whether the others of our kind have reached some form of truce with the Grays—kind of a ‘You stay out of my system, and I will stay out of yours’ deal. If so, we may have inadvertently abrogated the agreement with our raid.” He looked at Celadon, “Old friend, I think it is imperative we reach those others to see whether my fears have a basis in fact. How soon can we make an attempt to reach them?"

Celadon stood, saying, “I see no reason for delay. Come, let us meet with my Greens and see how best we can accomplish this.” Bidding the others farewell, the two AEthereals departed. Astra looked at the DARPA scientists and said, “You have certainly given us much food for thought today." "Lady Astra, I wonder if it might be possible to have the assistance of an AEthereal to take the shield suit to the next stage?” David Borland asked. "What do you need?” she replied. "Essentially, I need a dragon to adapt the design of the suit,” Dave responded. “I've taken it as far as I can with the human suit. Now the question becomes whether the design can be fitted to one of your kind without losing its effectiveness or interfering with the ability to fly, or even portal." "I am smaller than the warrior classes, but I would certainly be willing to help you if I can,” Astra replied. “If it works with me, then it is merely a matter of scale to have it work with the others." "You? But you are the Master Healer!” Dave replied, aghast. "Yes, I am but perhaps that is what makes me even more available than the others. I have little enough to do here, since there is rarely a need for my services.” She looked at the group. “There are usually very few AEthereals on this planet at any time—perhaps twenty or so breeding pairs, plus a few of us in human guise. Injuries are extremely rare, so I am at your service." "We would be honored, Lady Astra. The first issue we must resolve is where to do this. We must have someplace where you can assume your true shape so we can measure your body to make the suit.” David Borland paused. “Does anyone have any ideas?" "How big a facility would you need?” Doctor Wilson asked. "When I saw Astra in her natural form, she was approximately two hundred feet long and about thirtyfive to forty feet at the shoulders. Her wings are about seventy-five feet in length,” Eric estimated aloud. "Good Lord!” Doctor Wilson said. “There's nowhere within this complex she would fit! And she's a small dragon?" "My brother Ebon is half again as large as I am, reaching well over three hundred feet in length. He is a hawk to my sparrow.” Pride was evident in Astra's tone. "Well then,” Doctor Wilson muttered, “perhaps it is best we start with you, Lady Astra." "Doctor Borland, why do we not just do this in my cavern?” Astra suggested. “I can bring through whomever you feel will be needed, change into my natural form, and then bring you all back when we are done." "It wouldn't be an imposition?” Borland asked. Astra laughed. “Imposition? No, we have our own manner of dealing with uninvited guests in our caverns.” A shudder ran through the group as they realized what she implied. “It is the easiest solution, and since none of your team will know precisely where they are, there will be no chance for an inadvertent disclosure of the location of my home." Spyder spoke up. “Lady Astra, would you object if I filmed you?” At her hesitation, he said, “Using the film and some comparison measurements, I could create a three-dimensional model of you in the computer for Doctor Borland to use in developing the exact suit measurements. It would greatly reduce

the need for thousands of physical measurements and increase the accuracy of the fit of the resulting suit." "If we did that, we could eliminate bringing any additional people. We could do it with just myself, Doctor Morgan, and Judy and Eric,” Doctor Borland said. "Very well, Spyder. I will trust you to safeguard the film. Remember what happened the last time someone had an AEthereal on film,” Astra said. "Ever been to St. Elizabeth's, Spyder?” Judy whispered to the suddenly pale young man. A few hours later, the group assembled in the cavern. They had already enjoyed a nice meal when Astra excused herself to get ready. She disappeared down the hallway and a few minutes later announced in everyone's mind she was ready. While Eric, Judy, and Spyder had seen her in her natural form, the two doctors were a little apprehensive. Cresting the ridge and looking down onto Astra, Lise exclaimed, “She's so beautiful!" Astra let Spyder film her from all angles with her wings spread. David Borland took some measurements of her wings, legs, claws, and just for fun, her teeth. He was somewhat astounded when he realized her teeth were almost four feet in length. ‘My brother's are almost six feet long,’ came her amused mental projection. ‘He has always called me a runt.' "Are Whites usually that much smaller?” asked Lise. 'Yes. I have always suspected our size is an offshoot of our healing powers. It enables us to treat a wounded AEthereal without seeming to be a threat and therefore, we can avoid being injured ourselves. A wounded AEthereal is not very controllable.' While they were talking, Spyder was downloading his video into a computer modeling program. He added the values for the comparison measurements taken by Dave Borland into the program and started extrapolating some additional sizes. He called out, “Hey, Doc! Take a measurement from her left wing root to the top of her left forearm and see what you get." Astra leaned down and let Dave take the measurement. “Sixteen feet, five and three-quarter inches." Spyder compared that to the predicted one hundred seventy-three and three-quarter inches. “Spot on!” he called out. “How about between her wings?" Dave looked at the spot Spyder wanted to measure. To reach it, he would have to climb up on Astra's back. Sensing his indecision, Astra projected, ‘Go ahead. You cannot hurt me by climbing on me.’ She lifted her forearm to give him a boost onto her back. As Dave made his way over to the space between her wings, he was struck again by the wonder of what he was doing. He was actually standing on a dragon's back. As he measured the space, he examined the iridescent scales that made up Astra's exposed dermis. What a marvelous structure. “Seven feet, three inches even." Spyder was expecting to hear that. His prediction had been eighty-seven inches. “The model is working great!" As Dave prepared to climb back down, he fleetingly wondered what it would be like to ride atop a dragon in flight. That had always been his deepest fantasy. On a tight band of thought, Astra answered only him, ‘What an interesting idea. Perhaps one day, we will have to try it. Who knows, maybe you could add some kind of seat to the sensor suit so a human could ride as a partner to an AEthereal in combat.' Dave was startled that she had picked up his wistful thought, but intrigued by the idea she had come up with. A partnership between an AEthereal and a human as a fighting team. Wouldn't that be something!

The measurements complete, the trio from DARPA was taken back to their base in Nevada and Astra returned home. After swimming in the lake, she stretched out on the sand next to Eric and Judy. "Judy,” Astra asked, “do all humans dream so of flying on a dragon's back?" It was Eric who answered. “There have been many popular science fiction and fantasy series written about dragon riders. The mere idea of such a partnership is captivating to most of us. Dragons have always been these great, mythical beasts of incredible strength and power. To be joined into a partnership with such a creature would make the rider, in a sense, almost as powerful. Add to that the idea of soaring through the clouds, and, well, it makes the concept appealing." Judy laughed. “In a word, yes. We all have a longing for that kind of experience hiding inside us. What makes you ask?" Astra replied, “Something I discussed with David Borland this afternoon. He, too, feels that longing. I wondered if a partnership between a warrior AEthereal and a human warrior would be possible. It would give the AEthereal a measure of protection in his blind spot atop his back, plus provide an entirely different arsenal of offensive weapons that could be used by the human." "What an interesting idea!” Eric said, his mind already hard at work with the concept. As she looked at the wistful expression on Judy's face, she didn't have to read Judy's mind to know what she was thinking. Astra concentrated very hard and picked out David Borland's mind. ‘David? I want you to design a saddle of some kind that can fit between my wings. If you will do this, then I will take you, Lise, Judy, Eric and Spyder for a flight in the skies of Paradise.’ She could sense his eager acceptance of the challenge. A smile crossed her lips. **** It was less than a week before David Borland called. “Eric, Dave Borland." "Hey, Dave. What's new?” Eric replied. "We have the suit ready for Astra." "Boy that was fast! You'll have to try it on her next, won't you?” Eric said. Turning to Astra, he said, “It's Dave Borland. Your shield suit is ready to be fitted. When can he come to try it out?" Astra concentrated. ‘Dave, is the other thing done as well?' Dave Borland was startled by the sudden intrusion of her voice in his mind. ‘Yes.' Astra turned to Eric, “Tell him we will be there in a few moments." After arriving at Groom Lake, Astra had the team collect what they needed. Getting some assistance from Ebon, the equipment and the humans were transferred to Paradise near the Grand Council site. Astra then shifted to her natural state. In the bright sunlight, the iridescence of her scales was even more pronounced. "She looks like a diamond!” Lise exclaimed in admiration. Astra crouched low to the ground and allowed the humans to fit the fine mesh shield suit along her back and wings, fastening the pieces together with Velcro straps and small electrical connections. It took almost an hour to fit all the pieces. When the suit was finally complete, Dave asked Astra to try moving around and see how the mesh felt to her. After a few moments of stretching her wings and swinging her tail and neck from side to side, she thought, ‘Are you sure you put it on me? I cannot feel it at all!'

"That's what I had hoped. The suit itself weighs a mere two hundred pounds,” Dave replied. “Now, with your permission, I would like to attach the processor and wave generator to the harness between your wings to see if they have any impact." Astra gave him a boost and Ebon hoisted up the streamlined metal case. Dave fastened the case to its fittings and made the required connections to the mesh suit. Slipping back down to the ground, Dave asked, “How does that feel?" Astra stretched her wings and moved around, then leaped into the sky for a period of aerial acrobatics. ‘I still can't feel it.' As she came in to land, Dave reached into the crate and pulled out one of the small Gray beam weapons. Without any warning, he aimed it at Astra and triggered the beam directly at her. He then walked directly up to her, still firing the weapon. A big smile on his face, he asked, “Feel anything at all?" 'Nothing. Are you sure the weapon works?' "Quite sure. Had it not been for the suit, you would have received a bad burn, especially this close." 'Ebon, the shield works! And it weighs nothing at all,’ Astra thought to her brother. ‘No more losses to the Gray beam weapons, think of that!' Ebon eyed the configuration, and then turned to Dave. “Wouldn't the backpack be a weak point? It covers both the sensors and emitters." "Yes, that's true, although the ceramic alloy offers some protection from the beam,” Dave responded. “But that's where the second idea comes in." "What second idea?” Ebon asked. "A partnership between an AEthereal and a human, both in a shield suit, the human armed with weapons to protect the AEthereal's blind spot,” Dave replied. Ebon stood there a moment, thinking the concept over. “It would take a very special human to fly with us. There would have to be a mental affinity between them. For example, I could partner with Eric, for his mind and mine are very similar.” Gesturing at the group around Astra, he added, “I could not partner with the one called Spyder or either of the women. Their minds just do not mesh with mine. I think you would be a good match for Indigo." "And who would be a good match for Astra?” Dave asked. 'Judy,’ came Astra's reply. ‘Fit the saddle and let us see how Judy likes realizing a fantasy.' With Ebon's help, Dave placed the saddle over the backpack and adjusted the special straps around Astra's chest. Dave had Astra test her wings to see if there was any effect on her ability to fly. After a short flight, she landed in front of Judy. 'Climb up, Judy, and strap in. It is time for you to see the world from my eyes,’ Astra commanded. Quickly, Judy scrambled up and into the seat. Racecar style shoulder and lap belts were quickly fastened and Astra sprang into the air. Judy's laugh of pure delight came back along the wind of their passage. Within moments, they were high in the sky, the world spread out below them. Other AEthereals flew up alongside to see the strange sight of a human riding on the back of the iridescent healer. The others were very curious about what was going on and Astra gave them a short mental précis of the suit and the proposed partnerships. While a few were skeptical, many were intrigued by the idea.

While Astra and Judy were in the sky, Dave explained the process of fitting the suit. Ebon quickly agreed and let Spyder film him while Dave took measurements. Eric wandered over and watched. 'Eric, what are your thoughts about this partnership idea?’ Ebon asked. Eric laughed. “Are you kidding? I would kill to be a part of that!" 'Would you be my partner?’ Ebon asked, his mental tone almost deferential, as if afraid Eric would reject the idea. "Gladly. What more could a man ask than to partner with the Guardian of Earth?” Eric replied immediately. 'Once Dave has completed my suit and saddle, we shall explore Paradise together,’ came the satisfied response. An hour passed before Astra and Judy returned. When Judy landed, she was excited and very cold. “Some advice for whoever does that next,” Judy said, “Wear a coat! It's cold up there in the clouds.” Her eyes shone with her joy as she added, “But it is so worth it!" Astra shifted back to human form. “I am so glad you enjoyed it, Judy, for I want you to be my partner. Eric has agreed to become Ebon's partner, as well." Dave ran up. “Hey, where's the suit?" Astra smiled, “It remains on my natural form. This form is merely an extension of my essence.” With that, she recalled her natural form and the suit and saddle remained in place. ‘Lise? Would you like to fly now?' Over the next hour, each of the humans got to experience dragon flight. Lise was absolutely enchanted by the experience. Astra made note of her reactions and tried to imagine which AEthereal would make her a good partner. It would have to be someone associated with the sciences. She agreed with Ebon's assessment that Indigo would be perfect for Dave Borland. Spyder was so exuberant, he made Astra laugh with his childish antics. Partnering with him would always be fun for some AEthereal, but who? As much as he enjoyed it, Eric kept thinking what it would be like to fly atop Ebon. ‘It will be much more intense than this, for my brother loves to swoop and soar, and he never makes a gentle turn when he can cut sharply,’ Astra projected. ‘Everything with him is practice for battle.' Eric thought that sounded like a lot of fun. 'It is!’ Ebon sent to him on a tight mental channel. ‘And you and I will develop the battle tactics for the whole wing'! It was Ebon's excited thought that made Eric realize that a whole new set of problems was just around the bend, for how could they recruit suitable partners until the public became aware of the existence of the AEthereals.

Chapter 26 The Grand Council was reconvened at the traditional rising of the sun on Paradise. Once more, the tiers were filled with the AEthereal color groups. Amber called the Council to order. 'We have been summoned to receive the report of Celadon and Indigo regarding their efforts to make contact with the other Guardians,’ Amber announced. Indigo stood forth, his magnificent cobalt blue scales sparkled in the morning light. ‘Fellow AEthereals, it is my great pleasure to tell you that we are not alone in our struggle against the predations of the Grays. Celadon and I made contact with others groups of Guardians, exactly where the Gray records indicated we would find them.’ Indigo's mental speech was calm and measured. ‘It is indeed true the Guardian races were created to combat the Grays. Unlike Earth, the others have extensive records of the formation and purpose of the Guardians. Not all Guardians are like us; most have dramatically different forms based on the worlds they were designed to protect. Some are great felines, other are aquatic creatures designed to protect worlds of water.’ He paused to get a measure of the Council's acceptance of those ideas before he continued. ‘I have invited two such representative Guardians to visit with us today.' The center of the Council Amphitheater filled with the blue nimbus of a portal. When the light faded, the Council caught their breath. For now, there stood a bearlike creature, fully twenty feet in height with fur that shone a rich, deep purple. At his side stood a very large feline, striped like a tiger, but with a mane of black like a lion. 'Greetings, cousins,’ came the mental voice of the large Guardian. ‘On behalf of my people, I extend a welcome to you. Our joy at your contact cannot be fully expressed.' The soft purr of the second Guardian representative seconded the first. ‘As does the pride. Long have we wondered about the Lost Guardians of Sol.' Indigo resumed his address. ‘The records of the Guardians explain much we have pondered over the millennia. Our creators chose our forms based on the life already in residence on our worlds. For us, Earth was filled with giant reptiles. They gave us this form because it would ensure our survival amid the more primitive dinosaurs of eons past. What became of the records of Earth can only be speculated upon, but I suspect they were destroyed by either natural upheavals or the great asteroid strike.’ Indigo paused and looked directly at the five humans now attending the Council meeting. 'Earth is the only world where a second dominant species arose, primarily because of the intervention by the Grays. In eliminating the dinosaurs through their bombardment with the great asteroid, they set the stage for the development of mankind. We can, through the new partnerships being started with humans, use that to our advantage.' Amber spoke. ‘The time for secrecy is at an end. Earth must now know about both the threat from the Grays and the existence of the Guardians. We can then expand the Guardians of Earth and Paradise to include our human partners and, together with the other Guardians, fulfill the purpose for which we were designed.’ She paused, letting the tension build. ‘We will take the war to the Grays themselves. THEY SHALL NOT TAKE ANOTHER WORLD!'

ABOUT THE AUTHOR As a small boy, the first novels I ever recall reading were the many works by Edgar Rice Burroughs, especially his series set on Mars and Venus. As I grew older, I remained a voracious reader of just about every genre but I always retained a special affinity for stories about dragons. Whether the dragon was an evil ravening beast like Smaug or those wonderful partners on Pern, I found dragons were portrayed as more driven by nature than by their minds. AEthereal was born from the premise what if the dragons were smarter than we were. How would our two species interact? After spending 24 years traveling the world for the Air Force, I retired to South Carolina and presently work as an IT Infrastructure Support Manager for a Fortune 500 company covering a dozen locations in North America. I have six children, soon to be twelve grandchildren and step-grandchildren, three dogs, and a library of over 1,000 books of almost every genre.

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