Diablo Mesa(95)
“No, we did not. We merely destroyed all your data and equipment. The people are fine.”
“You’ve obviously killed other innocents, like Emilio Vigil.”
“That was the unfortunate product of a soldier’s overzealousness. However, you are right: we have killed. For a cause.”
Rush waited.
“If the fate of Earth is at stake, maybe that could be justified. But the films you’ve shown us, the history you’ve cited…” She stopped and pointed toward the craft. “It all seems contradicted by that. It’s done nothing in our presence. And the device we just excavated—it didn’t zap anybody. How do we know those films weren’t doctored? I’m not sure I buy your conclusion it’s out to destroy us. Maybe it was intended to be benevolent.”
“Benevolent!” Rush repeated, in a mixture of surprise and derision. With a gesture, he brought one of the guards over, then spoke to him briefly in a low voice. The man saluted, walked back toward the hangar entrance, then plucked a microphone off its wall cradle. After about ten seconds, he put it back.
Rush, meanwhile, strode back and forth, with the air of a man for whom both patience and time had run out. As Nora glanced from the colonel to Tappan and back, the hangar door opened and a soldier entered, holding a cage of some kind. She handed it to Rush, saluted, then turned and walked out. The guards remained in their positions by the hangar door, which stood open.
Rush turned toward his prisoners. “Come with me.” Then he made a direct line toward the alien craft.
Nora and Tappan followed. The colonel walked so quickly that, despite herself, Nora soon felt herself slowing behind him.
Rush walked past the outermost, yellow ring of the concentric circles, then paused immediately before the orange ring and looked over his shoulder. He snorted when he saw that both Nora and Tappan were hanging back.
“What are you worried about?” he asked in an acid tone. “We’ve learned the hard way how close we can get.” He put the cage on the floor, opened it, withdrew something, and straightened up again. Nora saw he was holding a lab rat. It had hooded markings, with a black head and white body. Like most such animals, it seemed naturally tame, unfazed by the strange surroundings. It looked around, beady black eyes glancing this way and that, whiskers bobbing as its little pink nose sniffed the air, disgusting bristly tail wrapped around the colonel’s wrist for balance.
“Hurry!” he said sternly to Nora and Tappan. “Come up here.” When they reluctantly joined him, he indicated the circles painted on the floor. “Over years of painful trial and error we’ve learned that, as long as we make no threatening moves, we’re safe on this side of the orange line.” He paused. “Or would you care to go farther, Dr. Kelly? Maybe touch it? Why not: you, after all, were the one who used the term ‘benevolent.’” He looked at her, one eyebrow raised quizzically. “No? Very well. I want you to remember: it was your own suspicious nature that made this necessary.”
With his free hand, he stroked the big rat for a moment. “In my experience, these poor fellows live rather short lives—two years, maybe three. They always seem to develop tumors. I wonder sometimes if so many generations have been bred for experiments that cancer has become part of their genetic structure.”
He continued stroking the rat for a moment, almost thoughtfully. He scratched behind its ears, thin almost as tissue paper, the tiny veins visible, like a young leaf’s. Then he raised his arm and gently pitched the rat underhanded toward the craft.
Nora, taken by surprise, watched the equally surprised rodent arc through the air, front and back feet outstretched, tail whipping in a circular motion. It began to sail down toward the alien craft. And then the rat’s fur suddenly glowed, flickering with unnatural colors. As the brightness became blinding, the animal’s skin grew transparent and she could see the muscles and organs and skeletal structure. A sound like the shriek of violins cut the air. Instinctively, Nora turned away, shielding herself from the alien glare. And then, abruptly, both the light and the noise stopped, followed only by the faint sound of liquid hitting concrete.
She turned back. Everything was as it had been before—except now, there was a small splatter of indeterminate color on the floor just inside the dark red ring. Beside her, Tappan stared, thunderstruck. Rush took them both in, shaking his head almost sadly.
“You pressed me for an explanation of how the craft can invert molecular structure,” he said. “That, of course, was before you mused about its benevolence. I’ve given you your example. The weapon scans an approaching form, determines its composition, then disassembles the atoms that compose its structure. In this case, it simply denatured the animal proteins of the lab rat—alas, now deceased. The creature essentially fell apart on the molecular level—as so many of our soldiers did, decades ago, leaving behind a soup of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, water, amino acids, and salts.”
Rush nodded at the guards, who stepped forward, submachine guns held across their chests in readiness. “You’ve both been given a full explanation of the alien’s malignancy. And a demonstration.” He stepped back outside the ring of concentric circles. “I need your answer, and I need it now.”
Tappan had an expression on his face Nora hadn’t seen before, like someone who’d just been punched in the gut. After a long moment, he took a shuddering breath. He glanced at Nora, then back at Rush.