Thunderbird (33 page)

Patrick put his telescope to his eye, adjusted it, stiffened, and gasped. “Oh, God,” he said.

He handed it to John, who looked. And staggered. For a long moment, he kept the telescope pressed against the helmet, as close to his eye as he could. Finally, he gave it to Melissa, but even then he seemed reluctant to let go of it. She got it away from him eventually and, while she struggled to adjust it, John took the rifle down from his shoulder and put his finger next to the trigger guard.

The pilot was walking toward them now. April and George had begun backing away. Somebody said, “Make for the station.” They all began to retreat. Melissa passed the scope to Brad. He looked, needed a moment to get it in focus. The pilot straightened its shoulders and tugged at a belt. The uniform started to glow, casting a dim light in all directions. And Brad saw it had
fangs
. And horns as well. Its eyes burned with fire.

“My God,” he gasped. “It's a
devil
!”

“It can't be real,” Melissa said.

“Talk about it later.” April sounded scared. “Everybody back to the station. Quick!”

Brad was on his way. They all were, except John, who'd gone out to one side so he could get a clear shot at the creature. April's voice rang in his ears: “Don't do it!” she said.

Brad stumbled through the sand. He fell once and barely touched the ground before he was on his feet again. April and George hadn't turned and fled like everyone else. They were backing off, but they were taking it slow and easy. If they ran, they would likely be pursued. The pilot watched their reaction and stopped. The thing raised a claw, in a gesture that Brad thought threatening. But it made no effort to chase them.

And Brad remembered that Matt would want photos. He pictured his boss's reaction when he came back with a story about a devil but with no photos. He caught his breath and stopped. Got his cell. Turned, lined up the demon, and captured it. Got a second one. It was probably the most courageous moment of his life. Then he jammed the cell back into his belt and began moving again, but more deliberately now, toward the station.

Meanwhile, the devil turned away. Maybe it had noticed John's rifle. In any event, it went back to the plane, and somehow rose through the air and reentered the cockpit doorway. The thing looked back at them over its shoulder and then closed the hatch.

When Brad reached the station, Lynda had already gotten it open. They piled inside. Boots called for Lynda and Melissa to get on the grid.

“
You
go first,” said Melissa.

Lynda reacted by jumping onto it and pressing the rings icon. “This might not be the best time for a debate,” she said, grabbing Melissa's arm and hauling her up beside her. Seconds later, they disappeared into a cloud of light. Boots pointed for Brad to go. And Patrick. Okay by Brad. He got into position, but Patrick didn't move.

Boots was standing at the door, looking out. “What's happening?” Brad asked.

“The plane's lifting off. Going straight up.” Then he backed out of the way to make room for April and George.

Brad looked back at Patrick. “Let's go,” he said.

“No,” said Patrick. “I'm not going anywhere.”

George came inside. “What's wrong?” he demanded.

“We didn't get what we came for.”

“I'd certainly agree with that.”

“What are you talking about?” asked April. “What did we come for?”

Patrick threw his hands in the air. “This might be where the answers are. This place is probably at the center of everything.”

“You've said that before,” said April. “What do you mean?”

“You guys can leave. I need a little more time.”

“For
what
?” April was exasperated. When Patrick hesitated, she looked over at Brad. “You might as well go,” she said. “John, go with him.”

John hesitated, but George broke in. “Do it, John. We'll be with you in a minute.”

He joined Brad on the grid and pressed the icon.

The end crowns all;

And that old common arbitrator, Time,

Will one day end it.

—Shakespeare,
Troilus and Cressida
, c. 1602

B
RAD
WAS
RELIEVED
to reach the space station. He and John backed away from the grid to make room, but minutes passed, and nothing happened. “I guess they're still arguing,” said Melissa.

“What the hell's he expect to find?” asked John. Nobody had any idea. After another few minutes had ticked by, he got back on the grid. “I'll be back in five,” he said. “If I don't show up, do not come after me.” He pressed the icon and was gone while Brad, Melissa, and Lynda stood looking at one another.

They were all relieved when he reappeared almost immediately. “They're going to stay for a while. I don't know why. McGruder doesn't want to say what he's looking for. But he's not going to move unless George decks him. I'm going back. You guys might as well leave. It might not be a bad idea to let the chairman know what's going on.” He raised a hand in farewell and faded out.

They hesitated. Follow him? Wait at the space station? Or go back to the Roundhouse? After a brief debate, they decided on the Roundhouse.

•   •   •

T
HE
POOL
REPORTERS
were waiting. “You guys came back pretty quick,” one of them said. “What happened?”

“Well,” said Melissa, after she'd taken off her helmet, “we saw another plane.”

The reporters broke into wide grins and hands started waving. “And—?”

“I guess some of us waved at it, and it came down. Landed right in front of us.” They were on their phones already. Brad looked for the chairman but didn't see him.

“So what happened then?” asked the
Devils Lake Journal
.

“April and George went out to say hello.”

“You're not serious?” The Associated Press looked shocked.

Melissa glanced at Brad. Did he want to take over? Brad liked audiences, but there were going to be repercussions over this. Anyhow, he was trying to get out of his space suit. They should have decided what they'd say to the media before leaving the space station, but they'd been so caught up in McGruder's action that they hadn't thought about it. “Go ahead,” he said.

“The incredible thing,” Melissa continued, “is that they pretty much came straight down. We thought at first we were safe because there was nothing resembling a landing field. But they might as well have been in a helicopter.”

“But it
wasn't
a helicopter?”

“No. It was a plane. With jets.”

Several people shouted the obvious question: “How could they do that?”

She shrugged. “I'd guess some kind of antigravity system.” More questions came, but she waved them quiet. “This will go better,” she said, “if you let me talk first, then we can do questions.

“It landed, and the pilot got out.” She hesitated. “He looked a little unusual.” More hand-waving. “We have pictures, so you can see what I'm talking about.” She turned to Brad.

Brad nodded, finished disposing of the space suit, and walked over to
the security desk. He tinkered with his cell phone and handed it to Andrea. “Can you put it on the TV?”

Andrea looked at the image on the phone, made a face that suggested she was about to swallow a worm, and connected it to the monitor. The plane blinked on. It was just a set of lights in a dark sky, and in another picture it filled the screen, and a third portrayed the aircraft on the ground.

The room was silent.

Then she had the pilot.

The reporters gasped and swore.

“It's a
devil
,” said MSNBC.

“Well—” Melissa hesitated. “It had fangs. And horns.”

The
Grand Forks Herald
said, “Yuk!”

“So we're clear: It made no hostile move. It got out of the aircraft and started walking toward us. To be honest, I got the impression it was inviting us to board the plane.” She tried to laugh, but it sounded shaky. “It was a bit much, so we retreated to the transport station.”

The
Fort Moxie News
found the story hard to believe. Even with the pictures. “This is for real, right? There are actually devils out there? But they never came after you?”

“No. It just stood there and watched us walk away.” Brad was thinking how
walk
wasn't exactly the right verb. “When one of our escorts raised a rifle, it hustled back into the plane.”

CNN: “It was scared of the rifle?”

“That's what it looked like.”

The
Washington Post
: “Were there any passengers in the aircraft?”

“We didn't see anyone else. Just whatever that was that got out of the plane.”

And a comment from CBS: “A plane headed for hell.”

•   •   •

W
ALKER
WAS
GOING
over some financial records when Andrea called. “We're on live TV,” she said.

Her voice suggested something had happened that wasn't good. When he turned it on, the devil was front and center.

“What happened?”

“Three of them are back. Melissa and Brad. And Lynda. They ran into a devil out there.”

“I'm looking at the pictures now. Look, if any of them show up at the Roundhouse, devils, I mean, don't hesitate to shoot. Okay?”

“Suppose they're not hostile?”

“You know what I'm saying. Look, I'll be over in a few minutes.” Walker had to pause to catch his breath. “The others are still out there?”

“Yes, sir. They're looking for something, but nobody seems to know exactly what.”

The story exploded across every network. News anchors took over, announcing that a team of scientists might have found Hell, that a team from the Roundhouse had been threatened by a demon, that devils were piloting aircraft across the latest Sioux destination. Images of the satanic creature were everywhere. One network even reported that some of the scientists had failed to return, but their situation was unclear.

Miranda was waving at him from the doorway. “The president.”

“James.” He didn't sound happy. “What the hell's going on?”

“I'm on my way now to find out, sir.”

“I think it's time to take the damned thing down.”

“I think you're right, Mr. President.”

“Call me when you have something.”

•   •   •

W
ALKER
ARRIVED
AT
the Roundhouse and fought his way through an army of media. “Don't know yet,” he told them. “You have as much information as I do.”

Then he was inside. Melissa, Lynda, and Brad were still there, talking with the pool reporters. He took Brad aside. “What's going on? Are they in trouble?”

Brad explained while Walker listened with gathering impatience. “Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath. “You willing to go back?”

“To do what, Mr. Chairman?”

“To take me there. Or if you want to back off, I'll ask Melissa.”

“I've got it,” Brad said.

•   •   •

L
YNDA
AND
M
ELISSA
both announced they wouldn't stay at the Roundhouse while Brad and the chairman proceeded to Desolation Point. “Please,” Walker said, “can't we come up with a better name than that?”

“How about
Hellfire
?” said Brad.

They picked up a suit for the chairman, climbed back into their gear and, less than forty minutes after they'd returned to North Dakota, they were back at the space station. It was, as expected, empty. And this time nobody was interested in looking out at the galaxy.

Walker wanted to hurry up. As soon as he could, he got back onto the grid and looked at the icons. Melissa joined him. “Which one are we using?”

Melissa touched the turned E, and, a minute later, they were gone. This time there was no plan to send back a pen or something. They hadn't stopped to think about it. Brad and Lynda waited a couple of minutes and followed.

When they arrived, Walker was in the middle of an explosion. “—Any idea how this is playing out at home? You guys are
not
supposed to violate the protocols. I don't care
who
you are.” He was facing April, glaring at her. Then he turned to Patrick. “So what the hell is it all about?”

April moved in to protect the young astrophysicist. “I'm sorry, James. We were just about to leave. But there's something you'll want to see before we go.” She looked in the direction of the door, and Brad was surprised to see it was open.

Walker stared at her. “Is that devil out there?”

“No. It's gone.”

George went outside to make sure. Walker followed. He looked around
at the wreckage. “This place has been dead a long time,” he said. April followed him out. Brad, Melissa, and Lynda joined them, while Walker continued to survey the broken landscape. “So what am I looking for?”

Patrick's voice: “Hold on a second, Mr. Chairman. Follow me.” A large, crumbling structure blocked off the view to their right. Patrick led him around it until they had a clear view of the horizon. “Look at the sky.”

“My God,” said Walker.

Brad followed them, looked up, and saw a moon. At first the reason for the chairman's shocked reaction wasn't clear. It wasn't, after all, anything special. It was the same old moon that lit up the sky every night.

Earth's moon!

“What the hell is it doing out here?” said Walker. “We're not in the Middle East, are we?”

“No,” said Patrick.

“Then what in God's name—?”

“Mr. Chairman, the Roundhouse doesn't just transport objects through space. It's also a
time
port.”

Walker was stunned. “What are you talking about?”

“There was obviously a connection with us. Earth and this world both served as tour locations. Still do, apparently. Why? What did the two have in common? And why would anyone want to visit this place?”

“Why would they?”

“Because it's the home world. It's Earth.”

“I don't get it.”

“This is the future Earth. At least a billion years downstream.”