path to conquest (18 page)

Before Donnenfeld could counter his tirade, the door slid open. Diana and two guards entered, accompanied by Lydia. The commander extended a hand in greeting, then withdrew it when Hannah met it with icy indifference. “Dr. Donnenfeld, I’ve waited a long time for this.”

While Diana spoke, Lydia tapped a code into the security panel just inside the door. Hannah was startled to see the wall behind her part in the middle, revealing what had to be one of Diana’s high-tech torture chambers—a straight-backed seat with restraint clasps for arms and feet, and a metallic ring that could lower to fit around the victim’s head. A free-standing control console was placed to one side.

“As a fellow scientist,” Diana continued, “I admire you a great deal. I realize you may find that hard to imagine, but it’s true.”

“Thanks,” Donnenfeld said simply.

“That’s why the thought of having to torture you displeases me. Neville has told me that you’ve brilliantly analyzed the flaw in my plan. All this unpleasantness might have been avoided but for an error Neville made. ” Her features tightened as she turned to the Englishman. “Did you remove the information on Dr. Donnenfeld’s solution from the Brook Cove computers before you left?”

“You know the answer to that, Diana,” he shot back. “The answer is no,” she said to Donnenfeld. “Because he inserted a virus into your computer system to sabotage it—
before
removing the data I wanted.”

“Don’t go blaming poor Neville.” Hannah was amused. “I don’t put much stock in computers as a substitute for old-fashioned thoughtfulness. The computers didn’t contain much that would’ve helped you, Diana.”

“I told her that,” said Neville amiably, “but she didn’t believe me. You’re such a doubting Thomas, Diana. It’ll be your downfall some day. Dr. Donnenfeld is no ordinary scientist. ”

The Visitor commander flashed a warning glare at him. “Dr. Donnenfeld, the knowledge you carry in your brain is something I need. I’ll get it, with or without your cooperation.
With
your cooperation, this process will be much easier for me and considerably less painful for you.”

Donnenfeld puckered her lips and made a rude noise. Diana’s glowering reaction delighted her no end.

The guards in the starship corridor stepped aside and saluted as the door behind them snapped open with a hiss. Diana stormed past them and disappeared around the curving bulkhead. A moment later Neville and Lydia came out of the interrogation cell. The door shut behind them.

“We have to talk to her,” said the Englishman.

Lydia laughed ironically. “Oh
no
we don’t. The last thing Diana wants right now is for me to tell her she’s wrong.” “Well, somebody’s got to tell her.”

“Be my guest.” Lydia pivoted, flipping her blond mane over one shoulder, and walked away. “Keep the prisoner under visual surveillance. Report any unusual activity to me,” she called back to the guards.

Neville fortified his resolve and strode off, then stopped and sidled back toward the guards. “Er, which way to Diana’s quarters?”

The guards traded insolent glances. “Idiot human,” one whispered. Then, turning to Neville: “I’ll escort you.” “Uh, thanks, mate.”

“Rather presumptuous of you to come here, Neville,” said Diana after the helpful guard had deposited More at her cabin hatch, then scuttled away.

More helped himself to a low-slung lounge chair. “Not at all. You’ve got an incredible scientific resource in that cell, and it’s my duty to stop you before you destroy it with your heavy-handed torture techniques.”

“We questioned her for two hours. When she answered at all, she was vulgar, flippant or both.”

“What did you expect?”

“I expect nothing—I demand information. And I’ll get it any way I can.”

“You won’t get it by killing her. You heard Lydia’s report. Hannah Donnenfeld is old, and she has a heart ailment. She’s also stubborn and stiff-necked, and the power intensity you’d need to break her resistance will surely kill her. And then you’ll have nothing.”

“She’ll talk before she’ll die.”

“Don’t underestimate her like you do other humans. She’s not afraid to die, Diana.”

“Maybe 1 overestimated
you,
Neville.”

“Look, Diana, I’m not one of your officers. You can’t simply shut me up with a word.”

She stood suddenly, her anger flaring. “I can have you
killed
with a word, human. You’d do well to remember that fact of life. I thought you were reliable in addition to being brilliant. Now I see the familiar colors of a disloyal coward instead of a trusted ally.”

Moving close to him, her voice lowered to a harsh whisper. “You continue to live at my whim, Mr. More. My ship is not a democracy. You have no vote in my decisions. If you disagree, keep it to yourself. If you cross me”—she paused for chilling effect—“I may lose my temper. And if I lose my temper,
you
could lose your life. Now get out.”

He flinched as she spun imperiously. She touched a button on her desk panel and the cabin hatch opened. He took the cue and left.

Lydia already had Donnenfeld in the interrogation apparatus when Diana entered the chamber.

“Is everything ready? We’ve got no time to waste,” she said, an impatient edge in her tone.

Lydia nodded, then pointed to a gray-haired male officer with olive skin and a medical corps armband. “This is Stavros. He was just recently transferred from the Mother Ship over the central Mediterranean. Fortunately, he’s an expert on human physiology.”

Diana gave him a measuring look. “Doctor, have you looked at this human’s status chart?”

He nodded deferentially. “Yes, Commander. Suffering from atherosclerosis typical of her age. Also, some scar damage to the heart muscle itself, indicative of a myocardial infarction. And a valve has been replaced. In my opinion, there is a seventy percent probability she will die during standard interrogation procedures. ’ ’

“Your opinion was not solicited, Doctor.”

“You have yourself a problem, from what I gather. Eh, Diana?” said Donnenfeld tauntingly. “I die, this information dies with me.”

Diana laughed shortly. “You exaggerate your importance, Doctor. My scientists are working on the solution to the problem you so generously discovered for us. I have complete confidence they’ll solve it very soon. If you share your data with us, so much the better. But even if you don’t, this project will move forward.”

Lydia took her commander aside. “Diana, at least begin at low power. Stavros says her survival is much more likely if we have a little patience. And you and I both know our scientists aren’t anywhere near a solution.”

“Patience doesn’t save time, Lydia dear.”

“But it often wins wars, Diana—
dear.”

“Teatime’s just not the same without Hannah,” Mitchell said, his face a melancholy mask. Pete, Lauren Stewart, Sari, and Donna, one of the young computer experts, were with him in the underground lounge. They were gathered around Dr. Donnenfeld’s favorite china teapot, a forlorn plume of steam drifting from its spout.

Sari suddenly jumped up from the couch, stomped across the room, and whirled on the group. “Dammit, Mitchell! She’s not dead!”

His basset hound eyes opened wide. “I know that.” “Then don’t talk like she is.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was,” Mitchell said, sounding wounded.

“Well you
are.
Just stop it, huh?”

His voice sharpened. “I said I was sorry. Geez, everything turns into an argument with you.”

“I’m not arguing. I just don’t see the point in bringing everybody’s morale down to where—”

“I wasn’t—”

Lauren raised a hand and cut in. “Hey, slow down here!”

The verbal swordplay broke off, and she took the opening. “I know what you’re going through. Really. Remember that my father was missing inside a Mother Ship for months during the first invasion. So I know the frustration and the anger. I tried to chop Pete’s head off a few times back then.”

Pete nodded. “I can vouch for that. The thing to help you through it is that we’re
all
worried about Hannah.”

Sari lowered her head and breathed deeply. “You’re right.” She touched Mitchell’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. I’ll try to be more upbeat.”

“But it’s so damned—
-frustrating,
just sitting here doing nothing,” Sari blurted, pacing from one wall to the other.

“But we are doing something, Sari,” Pete said, trying to be comforting. “We’re doing what we can.”

“That’s right,” Lauren agreed. “There are lots of government and resistance people out there looking for leads. Something’ll break, and when it does, we’ll be ready to move.”

They heard a throat-clearing sound from the doorway, then a familiar British accent. “You’ve got your break,” said Neville More.

Astonished heads turned to see him standing there with Kenny, the Japanese computer master. More was dressed in the crisp red uniform of a Visitor captain.

“I went topside to take a little walk,” Kenny explained, “and I saw a lizard shuttle coming right at me. 1 started to run back to pull the alarm when
this
guy gets out and calls my name.”

Her face drained of color and emotion, Sari stepped up to More and slapped him hard across the face. Pete leaped over Lauren’s outstretched legs to stop any continued pummeling Sari might have in mind.

“Thanks, mate,” said Neville as he rubbed his jaw. “Frankly,
mate,
I’d like to finish the job myself. But first I’d like to know what the hell you’re doing here.”

Neville spotted the tea. “Mind if I have a cup?” He didn’t wait for permission, just poured some for himself and sat a safe distance away from Sari in a single chair.

“If I were you,” Pete prompted, “I’d start talking.”

“Ah, yes. I can understand your curiosity. First, when I last saw the good Dr. Donnenfeld, she was alive and well and giving Diana fits. She’d just gotten through two hours of interrogation with flying colors.”

“If Diana tortures her,” Sari spat, rising from the couch, “that’ll be nothing compared to what I’ll do to you.”

Pete pulled her back down. “Sit!”

At first tensed for another assault, Neville then relaxed—a little. “When I left the Mother Ship, Hannah hadn’t been tortured yet.”

“When
you left,” said Lauren. “Why
did
you leave?” “Let’s just say that Diana and I had a parting of the ways. I’ve never been much for taking orders, especially when they’re wrong. So here I am.”

“You son of a bitch,” Mitchell growled, his puffy cheeks quivering. “You have the balls to come back here after what you did?”

“Pardon me, but I didn’t expect to be greeted with open arms, Mitchell. However, I did think you’d be interested in getting Hannah back before Diana kills her.”

“Why didn’t you bring her with you?” Lauren wanted to know.

“Oh, I tried. Believe me, Miss Stewart. But Diana had just begun a second round of questioning. I couldn’t get to her. With your help, I think we can get her out. Interested?” Mitchell’s eyes burned with cold fury. “Why should we trust you? You could be here on Diana’s orders, laying a trap to snare the rest of us. A few more resistance prizes would net you a few more pats on the head from the top lizard, wouldn’t it?” he taunted.

Neville’s mouth twitched. “I don’t do anything for pats on the head—get that straight,” he said, shoving Mitchell with a jab to the shoulder. “I’ve got no regrets for the people I screwed, my so-called colleagues who’ve done their best to destroy me over the years.”

“We never did anything to you,” Sari said, her voice a confused mix of personal pain and professional pride.

“Yes, well, a few innocents sometimes have to get caught in the crossfire.”

Lauren squinted at More. “So why the sudden turnabout?” Neville gave the question an extra moment of consideration. “I have my own code of justice, Miss Stewart.”

“Honor among thieves?” she parried.

“In a manner of speaking. I’d never claim to be bound by the same rules that others might follow. But within my own context, I think I apply my code fairly. It’s something I’ve had to do to survive in a world not of my own making, and I don’t apologize for that. One of my cardinal rules, if you will, is that no one abuses Neville More. The Visitors have done just that.” “So it’s their turn to pay the piper,” Pete concluded. “Exactly. If this all works out according to plan, you get your precious Dr. Donnenfeld back—in one piece, I hope— and I get my required measure of revenge on the Visitors. I believe that sounds fair.”

“Hey, uh, I don’t want to be a wet blanket or anything,” Mitchell said, “but I still don’t trust this creep.”

“Let me put it to you this way, Mitchell, old boy. You let me waltz out that door, and the best that can happen is that Hannah Donnenfeld dies in Diana’s torture chamber. At worst, Diana also gets the information about the oil bacteria before your mentor expires. If we cooperate with each other, that’s your only realistic chance to save her life. Comprendez?”

Mitchell squared his shoulders belligerently. “Okay, what if we go along? Just how the hell are we going to get on to the Mother Ship?”

Neville smiled in crafty confidence. “Just so happens,” he said, buffing his fingernails across his Visitor uniform, “that I know how to circumvent virtually every security code and procedure on that ship. I can get us on and I can get us off.” “That’s a start,” Pete said, “but how do we get Hannah off with us?”

“I’ve got an idea,” Lauren said. “Neville, can you tap into the Mother Ship’s main computers once we’re aboard?” “Sure. What’ve you got in mind?”

“It’s very simple. We don’t remove Hannah Donnenfeld. We remove a generic dead human.”

Noting questioning looks all around, Lauren began to explain. . . .

Julie Parrish shaded her eyes as she scanned the pale blue sky over the desert outside Los Angeles. Elizabeth Maxwell, the half-Visitor, half-human starchild, stood next to her. Both petite, both blond, both wearing blue jeans and tan safari shirts, they could have passed for sisters.

“There,” Elizabeth said softly.