Infiltration.

Part Two of V- The L.A. Chronicles.

by Jackie Newman

jacalynsue@zoominternet.net

Philip woke to the sound of footsteps. He shook Kim gently, putting his other hand over her mouth. She opened her eyes in surprise, then understanding, as she heard the noises below them. They had come to this warehouse so they could sleep in relative safety, hidden near the rafters among stacked boxes.

“Over here, Paul,” a Visitor voice said as other footsteps approached.

“Sir,” Kim and Philip heard a second Visitor voice reply quietly. 

Unable to tolerate their inability to see the meeting, Kim and Philip carefully worked their way to the edge of the stacked boxes and peered down. A uniformed officer who was standing in the shadows put his firearm away. “Have you had any success?”

“None, sir. I’m sorry,” the one who had been addressed as Paul replied. “I have frequented every bar and restaurant in this sector of the city, but I have not overheard anyone talking about a rebel effort.”

“With all the attacks that have been made on our installations, I know there are humans who are fighting back. If we could find even one group of them, we could help them. I wish I knew where to tell you to look.” The uniformed officer glanced around again, apparently on guard for unwelcome company. “How are you? Have you been suspected in any way?”

“No. I’m getting good at being a mute human, if I say so myself. I would probably have more success if I could talk with them,” Paul said, obviously frustrated.

“No, it’s too risky. You’re in enough danger as it is. Someone might claim to be with the resistance and then kill you as soon as they had the opportunity. Are you willing to stay a bit longer?”

“Sure. It’s been kinda fun, getting to know them a little. ” Paul shrugged in a very human fashion. “We’ll find them, sir. We have to. I’m certain there are humans who want to fight back.”

“There is going to be another increase in troop presence on the streets soon, and more checkpoints. Perhaps that will anger enough of them to strike out. If only there were some way to tell them some of us are on their side.” The uniformed officer seemed frustrated as he handed some currency to Paul.

“You could do what the locals do and put an ad in the newspaper,” Paul teased.

“Maybe you should come back to the ship before you become too comfortable here.”

“Their food isn’t that good, sir,” Paul replied with a smile. “Same time next week?”

“Unless Diana changes my schedule.” The one in uniform offered his hand. “Be careful, Paul. You’re no good to us dead.”

“The same is true of you, sir,” Paul replied quietly, then slipped away into the night. 

After a few moments, the uniformed officer left through the other end of the building.

“I don’t believe it,” Philip said softly when it was clear they were alone. “Do you know who that was?”

“No.”

“Martin.” Philip couldn’t hide his surprise. “He’s one of the senior officers on the L.A. ship, right under Diana! He used to outrank John, then got into some sort of trouble and was demoted.”

“So he turned on them?” Kim asked.

“Could be. I’ve heard all sorts of rumors about what happened.”

“Whatever his reasons, he seems to be helping our side,” she said, then sighed. “I wish I could help Paul, but I don’t know where he should look, either.”

“Maybe he’ll get lucky. You should contact Martin once we are on the ship,” Philip said firmly. “Use your knowledge of this meeting to pressure him if you must, but get him to help you. He has enough rank and respect to avoid being questioned.”

Kim nodded in agreement. “So now all we need is to find who we want to replace.”

* * * *

Kim moved around the room, trying to project a confidence she did not yet feel. She had to struggle not to visibly startle each time the door opened to bring in a new human prisoner. A part of her expected to have someone come in at any moment, dump Karen’s body at her feet, and demand an explanation. The likelihood of that happening was slim, as she and Philip had stripped their victims of their masks and uniforms before dumping the bodies down a manhole. Philip had selected two security personnel for them to replace, on the assumption they would be able to observe ship activities without being required to do many technical tasks of their own. So far, Kim was finding that assumption to be correct.

Philip’s tutoring had been adequate, and he had given her a tour of some of the ship before disappearing into his own new role as a guard named Jacob. The one impression that had been hammered into her brain was how alien the Visitors really were. The lights were too dim and the temperature too warm for human comfort. The air was stale and dry, like that being re-circulated during a commercial airline flight. Walking through the corridors was like being on the set of some movie. The only difference was the ship was real. She could sense the ship’s power, though she didn’t know if what she was perceiving was a sound at the edge of her hearing or a physical vibration. 

She was thankful Philip had drawn her basic outlines of the ship’s layout. Otherwise, she would have become hopelessly lost in a network of passageways. The corridors were unmarked, other than the labels on the doors. Alien characters there, for those that could read them, gave the level number, section number, and subsection designation. Everything was labeled relative to the top center of the ship, where master control was located. Shuttle bays were located on the lower-most levels, the sections numbered in a counterclockwise direction, with master control at the center of the dial, its viewport facing in direction one. Inside the circle of bays, and extending up for several levels, were the engines and storage compartments. Crew quarters were on the upper levels, with the command crew getting the best access to recreation areas and duty stations. Her own quarters were functional, small, and barren. It reminded her of a college dormitory room, except for the section of cages on the wall, where her “food” scurried and waited. Like every room she had been in, the walls and floor were in a design similar to the sterile look of the corridors. The lighting was always dim and diffused. Everything had been designed for function, leaving aesthetics out of the design formula entirely.

Kim forced herself to stop pacing as the next human was brought in for processing, a procedure she found too distressing to watch. The reality of the Visitors’ hidden motives was far worse than she had been able to imagine. Kim could only hope she survived long enough to wrestle with her feelings of guilt for participating in the outrage. Unknown to Philip when he selected the soldiers they were to replace, security personnel had been recruited to assist in the human storage procedures. The subjects were being brought in one by one, strapped down, and put into a state of suspended animation that kept them alive, but just barely. They were then loaded into liquid-filled storage pods, designed to keep the inhabitants cold and monitor their vital signs. The thought that Andrew had been put through this process frightened her. Who knew if it was a reversible procedure, or if it was just a way of keeping the meat fresh? Preserving brain function in their dinner was not a likely concern. Even if she could find Andrew, one boy among thousands, there was no way of knowing if he could be revived.

Her other duty was to screen the humans for individuals fitting profiles given to her by Diana. Apparently, Diana viewed herself as a counterpart to Josef Mengele, and conducted demented medical experiments on her unfortunate victims. Looking at the list of profiles Diana currently wanted sickened her. If she refused, she would surely be killed; if she complied, was she any better than Diana? Kim resolved to comply but make note of what Diana did, and do whatever she could to minimize suffering. Surely there were chemicals on board she could slip to a few of them, allowing them the luxury of a fast, painless death...

The stress of it all made it tempting to find Philip as soon as her shift ended, but that was far too dangerous for both of them. They had agreed to avoid fraternizing except when they had information to exchange. They were close enough in rank though, that future associations, if infrequent, would not attract attention. Only the knowledge that Andrew was there gave her the strength to maintain her role and proceed through the day. Tired as she was when she collapsed into bed, she knew the hardest part was yet to come. Unless Martin agreed to help her, her efforts would amount to nothing. 

The next day passed uneventfully, and her fears of Karen being discovered began to ease. The following afternoon, though, she was alarmed when she heard a call for attention. One of her superiors come in for a spot inspection. She assisted the technician in adjusting straps on the prisoner’s hands, and then turned to see who had come, stealing herself to meet Diana in person. 

"Progress report?" Martin inquired with an air of indifference. 

"We are right on schedule," she announced to him, loudly enough for her staff to overhear if they wished. Staff? Kim mentally laughed at the image. Although her uniform had more stripes than anyone else’s in the room, she was the least trained of the lot. Even the lowliest trooper had gone through training on the home world. Her mind raced as she tried to think of a way to prolong the conversation. He looked almost bored. She stepped closer to him and drew him a few steps away from the others with a quick glance and tilt of her head. When he joined her, she quietly murmured, "I’d like to help with Paul."

"Excellent," he said, continuing their official conversation, but not without looking sharply at her. "Another shipment is due to arrive late this afternoon. You will be ready?"

"Absolutely."

"Come to my quarters at shift's end. I have something I wish to discuss with you.”

"Yes, sir."

"Carry on," he saluted and left. The doors closed behind him, sealing her fate. With a deep breath composed of equal portions of dread and relief, she returned to work.

* * * *

When the shift was over, she made her way quickly to Martin's quarters. Almost immediately after pressing the door chime, the doors parted for her to enter. The rapid response was disquieting, since she had counted on a few more seconds to collect her thoughts. She stepped inside and saw that he was sitting at a computer console, busily working. As she strode across the space to him, he turned away from his task and stood.

"Thank you for coming. Would you care for a snack?" he asked, indicating the cages on the wall. He selected a canary for himself and turned to her expectantly.

"No, thank you." She moved close to him and murmured urgently, "I need your help. Give me time to explain."

He considered that as he seated himself once again at the computer and swallowed the bird. After a moment he motioned her to a nearby chair. "I suppose you are wondering why I asked you here. I require your assistance. There have been rumors of a fifth column, a rebel movement, forming on this ship."

"I don’t believe it!" she said with what she hoped was a convincing amount of surprise. 

"You work closely with several people who are...shall I say...prime candidates for suspicion due to the nature of their current assignment. It is possible that the workers in the storage sections have forgotten about the conditions at home. I want you to keep a close watch for any signs of a rebel movement. Any suspicious acts are to be reported directly to either myself or Diana."

"Of course," she said.

"Don't tell anyone else. I don’t want idle gossip and rumors giving people ideas."

"Agreed.” She hesitated, and plunged ahead. “Is there anything else I can do for you? I had hoped you called me here for a more...personal reason," Kim hinted strongly. She tilted her head in the manner Philip had taught her, hoping she had the flirtatious signals correct.

"Perhaps I did," he said neutrally, pushing his chair back from the console. He leaned back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest. This woman intrigued him. She knew about Paul but had made no attempt to threaten him. What did she want? Surely this was more than a simple seduction ploy!

"You don't know?" Kim stood up and moved over to him. "I'm not on duty until tomorrow morning." Feeling bold, she sat down on his lap. "Maybe by then you'll decide," she said softly and kissed him. "I'm not who you think I am. The real Karen is dead," she whispered as she let her mouth wander towards his ear.

"Who are you then?" Martin replied just as quietly, nuzzling her in response.

"A human."

"Human!" he exclaimed under his breath as he pulled away and looked at her, somehow keeping his expression carefully neutral. "I don't believe you," he murmured, his eyes narrowing as he studied her, looking for signs she was telling the truth. Her skin felt cool, her gaze was steady... 

"Kiss me again and I'll prove it."

Martin pulled away as soon as he felt her warm and very human tongue. "What do you want?"

He was doing a remarkable job of keeping his face stoic, Kim thought idly, and wondered if her own expressions were as well controlled. Somehow she doubted it. Trying to exude confidence, she leaned close to him. "I need your help. Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"Play along." Martin gently pushed her to her feet and stood up. He picked her up easily and carried her into the bathroom. Once inside, he set her down, secured the door, and started the water flowing into the tub before turning to her. "If we talk quietly, no one will be able to hear us. The cameras and microphones are all in the other room." Martin leaned against the door, folded his arms and waited.

Kim quickly scanned the room as she seated herself on the edge of the tub, which Philip had told her was a rare accessory available only to senior officers. "To make a long story short, my brother is here. I want to try to get him out, but I don't want to put your own plans at risk– I know you’re helping the rebels. If I can't free him, I figure I can at least help you."

"You'll never last. One mistake and Diana will kill you...and me. Why should I help you, considering the risk?" Martin wondered what her hidden motives were. Was this a trap of some sort?

"I know you didn't ask for this, but I can help you, too. Think about all the things you don't know about our culture, our government, even climate and geography. I can give you the information you need, even research details that I don't know. Believe me, our libraries have a wealth of information, if you know how to access it. I've prepared for this for months. But I know I need to know more so I don't make dangerous mistakes. That's where you come in."

The fifth columnist studied her intently, weighing his options. "What happens if we can't get your brother out? What if the risk to the fifth column is too great? I won't jeopardize dozens of lives to rescue one person."

"I hope it doesn't come to that, but if it does...” Kim looked at the floor, then back at him. “I'm willing to trust your judgment. I won't try anything on my own– I promise. All I'm asking for is a chance. Will you help me?" Her gaze became very human and her eyes almost pleaded with him.

"I don't see that I have a choice. You know too much about me; my life already depends on your performance."

"Not quite. You could kill me right now, or arrange an 'accident' later."

"I'd rather not."

"Then you could send me home."

Martin looked at her ruefully and shook his head. “You'd just switch faces and come back as someone else. But you'd be without help and I'd be without the information you offer. You win." He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. “Well done."

Kim raised an eyebrow.

"You out-maneuvered me. That doesn't happen often." He tilted his head slightly, regarding her in a new light. "This is going to be interesting."

"I can almost guarantee it." Kim stood up and started to remove her uniform.

"What are you doing?"

Kim looked at him questioningly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't Diana have the nasty habit of watching the crew during her off hours? And she could even be watching your quarters right now?"

Martin nodded, too busy thinking about how this would affect his plans to notice her unspoken meaning.

"If you and I walk out of here in full uniform and I leave after being here for only five minutes or so, don't you think she'll find the situation a bit odd?"

Martin just looked at her and realized she was right, then felt amazement that he could be made to forget such basic survival behaviors. He could not remember the last time he had been so dumbfounded. Liaisons such as this were hardly new to him. Yet, here was a human, approaching him for the same purpose. A human fifth columnist? Was what she proposed even possible? Pseudoskin, after all, could only do so much. 

"Is something wrong?" Kim asked with a hint of a smile as she stripped off her clothes and turned on the water. "All I've done is turn your life upside down."

"Is that all?" he answered dryly and removed his own uniform.

They both pretended to be nonchalant about sitting in the tub together. Martin was surprised though, when she leaned against him and said, "So, where do we start?" He had the sinking feeling that all of his carefully thought-out plans had just been nullified.

* * * *

After asking him some questions about her duties, and impressing him with her knowledge of the ship’s activities, she stood up to leave. He stopped her with a touch on her arm. "You may as well spend the night here. Give Diana something to think about."

With a slight nod, she stepped out of the tub and waited for him. He showed her where cloths for drying were stored, and then led her to the bed. He allowed her to snuggle close beside him, and noted she lay so he could easily talk into her ear. 

Martin was glad that she didn't press for an explanation. He wasn't entirely sure why he had impulsively asked her to stay longer, though he was oddly intrigued by this stranger who came to him with no pretenses. "Why did you come to me?" he murmured into her hair. Where was his revulsion? Shouldn’t he be appalled at what she proposed? Or had years at the clinic removed all of his barriers, leaving him open to... were there even words for the current situation?

She rolled over, nuzzling his jaw and neck, "I assume the microphones can’t hear us if we talk softly? Squeeze my arm once to confirm, twice to negate.” When she felt a single squeeze, she continued. “I saw you talking to Paul last week...one of you picked my sleeping spot as a meeting place."

"Did anyone else see us?" he asked, suddenly concerned for his own safety.

"Only the Visitor who helped me infiltrate. He’s back on board as a security guard named Jacob. Don't worry, we checked the area. No one else knew you were there. Be as careful as you have been and you should be safe. I wish I could tell you where Paul could find resistance members, but I don’t know where to look, either. I’ve been working alone. There are probably lots of small groups and individuals that are working independently of each other, simply because they don’t know who to trust. "

"Tell me something."

"If I can."

"You've obviously prepared well for this, and I know you're determined. Why didn't you just slip on board, get your brother, and leave?"

"I want to. But how would that help everyone else that's been kidnapped? The only way our two worlds will survive is if we work together."

"You want to help us?"

"That's right," she answered. "What's a little physiology between neighbors?"

He thought about that for a long time before he finally fell asleep.

* * * *

During the day, she worked in the storage section, learning about the storage process and general ship activities. And at night, after performing for the ever watchful Diana, they lay together under the covers while he quietly drilled her on cultural behaviors, their language, and military protocol. Frequently, when he corrected her, she quickly retorted with some clever remark, bring momentary levity into an otherwise frightening existence. Other conversations were carried out in a normal, conversational tone, their meaning negated by double squeezes hidden from the cameras. At such times, Kim found herself wanting to laugh and fought to keep the sarcasm from her voice while she praised Diana, the Leader, and all of the other loyal senior officers.

* * * *

On one such evening, they were interrupted by a chime at the door, followed by a voice over the com-system. “Food service, sir,” the voice said.

Martin absently pressed a button on the wall over the bunk where they lay and pressed the door release before returning his full attention to the human. He felt Kim stiffen in his arms as the door slid open and he tried to reassure her. “Relax. Just ignore him,” he whispered to her.

Kim bit back a retort and tried to comply. “Does this happen often?” she murmured in his ear as he nuzzled her neck.

“Every three days. How do you think the cages are refilled and the animals maintained? Hush now, or he might hear.”

She had wondered about that, but had noticed food and water supplies were built into the back wall of each chamber of the rack of cages. Though necessary to maintain the health of the animals, the food and water supplies were barely visible from the front, and a cursory glance made one think the animals were being kept in empty cells composed of clear plastic. She had just assumed that access to the cages was from the other side of the wall, so as not to encroach into crew quarters. 

Martin acted as if they were still alone, his caresses unabated. She forced herself to lie still and accept his touch, though she longed to get up and demand that the interloper vacate the premises. 

As soon as they were alone, she launched into more questions. “Why not wait until you’re gone?” she hissed between clenched teeth. Talk about an invasion of privacy! Knowing her every movement could be watched by camera was degrading enough. Having a stranger actually enter the room reached beyond degrading, and extended into a realm without words. Yet Martin acted as if the intrusion was of no consequence. Had his entire life been so bereft of privacy that the lack of it didn’t even warrant a response?

“No one of his rank would dare enter my quarters without me being present.”

“Is that his only assignment? Dragging carts of rodents around the ship and cleaning cages?”

“Along with overseeing their breeding, and testing Earth animals for safety of consumption, yes.”

“He must see a lot of interesting things, if he’s always barging into people’s quarters at all hours of the day and night,” Kim commented. 

“Nothing he hasn’t seen before, I’m sure. Besides, most of the crew quarters cages are accessed from the main corridor. It’s only the quarters of the higher-ranking officers that are organized like you see here.”

“So having someone barge in on you is one of the perks of higher rank?” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm and distaste from her voice. Only the underlings were given privacy? What an outrage! 

“Actually, yes.” Martin explained patiently, “Sabotage through the food supply is far more dangerous when you have to enter the quarters yourself, meet someone in person, and be identified by the intercom system. Don’t forget the potential for them to be recorded on camera, as well..”

“Does he always come at the same time?”

“Usually. Why?” Her persistent questioning was intriguing. What was so awful about having a crew member present for a few minutes? She would never have survived the clinic back home.

“Because I intend to be anywhere but in this bunk when he comes again.”

“You prefer the floor?” he asked dryly, interrupting his nuzzling to look her in the eye.

Kim playfully punched him in the arm and hid a smile, with only partial success. “And you think our ways are strange! God...” 

* * * *

A few short weeks into her role as a security guard, Kim entered Martin’s quarters late one evening to find a feast of different foods waiting for her. Her eyes widened in appreciation as she noticed several platters of fruits and vegetables scattered in amongst the containers of rodents, grubs, crustaceans, and slices of meat. She gave Martin a questioning look when he rose from his workstation and came over to guide her to the table. 

He seated her so her back was to the camera, using knowledge gleaned from his former rank in the fleet. “I thought perhaps we should have a celebration.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“The means of locating the rebel base has been secured. Within twenty-four hours, the resistance will be in our control.” Martin said, gracefully sliding into his chair. He squeezed her hand once to confirm that the unfortunate news was correct.

“Wonderful news.” Kim leaned forward, surveying the array of dishes. “Are all of these Earth foods?”

Martin nodded. “Our scientists assure me they are all safe for us to consume. I thought perhaps we could sample some of the plant products the natives eat, out of... curiosity.” He met her eyes, knowing full well she was trying hard to restrain her excitement. The gratitude she felt was evident in her expression, and it pleased him more than he cared to admit.

“Do you know what they are called?” Kim asked innocently, picking up an orange.

Martin looked at a data pad that lay next to his elbow and read from it. “The item you are holding is called an orange.” He glanced up and added, “I assume for the color,” before continuing, “The outer rind is removed before consumption of individual sections.” 

“Sections?” Kim’s tone was dry. “Curious.” She used an instrument from the table to cut through the rind, then carefully peeled it off, trying to look inexperienced in the procedure. “Oh, I see what they mean by sections. These oranges certainly are high in moisture content. Here, you first.” She handed him a single section. 

He tasted it cautiously, then nodded. “Not bad.”

By now, Kim had already eaten two sections of her own, and gave him a teasing glare. She palmed two more sections to consume, then placed the remainder back on the plate. It was best not to appear too enthusiastic about mere fruit. She reached next for the grapes. “And what are these?” 

Martin dutifully read to her, “White grapes, used as the primary ingredient in some wines. The spheres are edible once removed from the stems.”

Kim nodded again, savoring the taste with closed eyes. She didn’t care how many damned worms she would have to consume tonight. It was worth it just to have real food again. 

Martin continued to read descriptions as they sampled the wide array of foods he had procured for her. Martin gallantly sampled each item, to make her own hoarding of fruits less noticeable, before turning his attention to the animal flesh he preferred. Likewise, she consumed just enough meat to safeguard her Visitor image, and loaded up on the produce. To the casual observer, nothing would appear amiss.

Later, after she had stuffed herself with fruit and vegetables, not caring if her digestive tract retaliated for the drastic change in diet, she slid into bed beside him. “You have no idea how much I needed that tonight. Thank you. Pure genius the way you managed to get REAL food up here for once!”

“Tough day?” he asked, sensitive to her moods. 

“The worst. I could kill Diana with my bare hands and enjoy it, after what she did to a teenage girl this afternoon.”

“What happened?” he asked sympathetically.

Kim lay against him talking softly. “She has expanded her so-called research into the field of reproductive biology. She’s trying to create a hybrid child of our two species, using an innocent teenage girl captured from the city. Her name is Robin and she can’t be a day over seventeen. Guess who she chose to assist her? Brian. I’d love to get my hands on him, too, the little creep. It’s bad enough he’s helping Steven and Diana indoctrinate human kids into joining the Visitor Friends program, but he has sunk to a new low by helping Diana in her demented experiments! To make matters worse, I had to guard Robin while Diana did God-knows-what to her in the lab, forcing her to submit at gun point. I assume Diana will ‘prepare’ Brian later. I dared not ask questions, but I think she’s playing with this girl’s reproductive DNA, not to mention altering her somatic cells to prevent her immune system from rejecting any resulting zygote.

“I don’t know how vast Diana’s knowledge of the human reproductive and immune systems is, but it scares me. This poor kid, there is no telling what damage Diana is doing to normal cell system controls! In ten years, Robin could develop some rare auto immune disorder. And what purpose could Diana possibly have in creating a hybrid child? Who gave her the right to be doing–”

Martin interrupted her tirade with a question. “Do you have a science background?”

“Yes, biochemistry and molecular biology. Why?”

“I suspected as much. You’re getting a bit technical and I’m not familiar with some of the terms you used. Can you start over and tell me step by step what you think Diana is doing to this girl?”

“Sorry.” She looked contrite, then launched immediately into a more detailed explanation. “The girl’s name is Robin Maxwell....”

* * * *

When she was done, Martin was livid. He had never approved of Diana’s treatment of prisoners, and Karen’s tales of her “research” and other abuses of her authority sickened him. Too many prisoners had fallen prey to Diana’s cravings for violence and torture. While he certainly couldn’t condemn willing individuals who participated in cross-species liaisons, especially considering he was guilty of that very crime, he was outraged to learn a young girl was being used in this fashion. He had known Robin’s capture was being used to make her father reveal the location of the rebel base, but he had not been aware how she was being abused. But what could be done?

He had managed to get Mike Donovan freed, but Mike’s partner Tony, who handled sound equipment, had not been so fortunate. It grieved him, since he had met Mike and Tony on several occasions during the interviews conducted during the early days of human/Visitor interactions.

Mike Donovan was a frequent focus of his thoughts these days. He had shown surprising initiative by sneaking aboard the mothership with his camera. Although Martin had not viewed the tape, he knew that Mike had probably filmed many Visitors from his vantage point in the ventilation shaft. Unfortunately, Mike had been seen by one individual who had removed his contacts for the night, and a fight ensued. In the fracas, Donovan had gouged at the Visitor’s face mask, revealing the true face underneath. Martin wondered if the camera had captured that image on tape as well. The location of the video was unknown, since Donovan had escaped to the surface.

Not long after that, Mike and Tony had been captured together, in what appeared to be another attempt to slip on board the mothership. The fifth column had been unable to reach Tony, but had succeeded in freeing Mike. Barbara had provided Mike with boots and her uniform, and given him a firearm before ordering him to shoot her, to make her story of being overpowered believable. The tactic had worked, and Barbara was recovering in the infirmary while Mike was presumably back on the surface.

* * * *

The next morning, not long after he had paid a visit to Barbara in the infirmary, a uniformed figure shoved him up against the wall at a junction of the corridors. The assault caught him completely off guard. Martin’s eyes widened as he recognized his assailant. “Donovan!” Quickly, he looked to see if anyone had heard him.

“I want to know what’s going on. Those tanks down in the hold...”

“You’ve been there?” How long had Mike been wandering around on board? Had he stayed aboard after his escape?

“Yeah. They’re full of water. Where’s the chemical you guys are making?”

“There’s no chemical.”

“Then what the hell are... oh, my God.” He finally let go of Martin and moved his hand to the wall over the fifth columnist’s shoulder, leaning on it. “The chemical’s just a smoke-screen, isn’t it? That isn’t what you want at all!”

“You’re right.”

“You’re stealing the water!”

Martin nodded. “It’s the rarest, most valuable commodity you can imagine. Unlike most planets, ours included, the Earth is blessed with an abundance of it. We need it, Mike. For our sustenance... to power fusion generators... and the Leader’s weapons.”

“We could have shared it.”

“Some of us proposed that. But our Leader wants it all.” Martin’s tone had become sarcastic when referring to the Leader, then grew soft again. “Other ships like this one are already on their way. The plan will take a generation, but he’ll have his way.”

“And the Earth will become a desert, and humanity will die.”

Martin shook his head sadly. “No. There won’t be any people left by then.” He paused and looked away, debating on the best way to explain the Leader’s plans. He met Mike’s penetrating gaze again once he had decided. “There’s something else I have to show you,” he said and started down a different corridor.

Mike followed him quietly, sensing Martin would answer no questions until they had arrived at their destination. The Visitor stopped at a locked door, and inserted his security key into the panel, causing the door to open. He gestured and Mike entered first. “What is this?” Mike asked as he stepped into the largest room he had ever seen.

“They’re your people.”

Mike approached the large ovoid containers spaced every few feet and peered inside. Naked humans could be seen floating inside, one per container. Donovan found his voice. “Dead?”

“No. Just this side of death. Metabolism slowed extraordinarily.” As he spoke, Martin passed Mike and moved further into the chamber, where he flipped several switches on a console. “Diana’s... work.”

Lights snapped on and Donovan felt a wave of dizziness as he gaped out over the railing in front of him. As far as he could see above and below, extending in arcs matching the curve of the ship, were rows and rows of similar storage pods. “The people who disappeared... my son, is in here somewhere?” Mike asked.

Martin nodded, though Mike was facing away from him. “Or in another ship like this one.”

“Why are they being taken, stored like this? Why not just killed?”

“The Leader needs them living.” Martin turned from the console and faced the human, trying to explain the fate that awaited the captives. “Some of them will be made into troops for battles with his enemy.”

“What enemy?”

“A force that has defeated him before.” He didn’t have time right now to explain Sirian history. Adding that race to the current situation would only add to the bloodshed, not speed the arrival of peace.

“His enemy, that makes them our friends, right?” Donovan asked, pouncing on the possibility of getting aid from somewhere off-planet.

“I don’t know that, Mike.”

“Well, it’s something to go on,” Mike said, refusing to have his hopes dashed so quickly. His attention returned to the previous conversation. “You said some of them would be his troops, not all.”

“No.”

“What about the others?” he asked, persisting.

“In addition to the water,” Martin started to explain, but had to look away, “There’s another basic shortage on our planet.” He hoped the human would deduce his meaning, rather than make him state it.

“Food,” Mike said, backing a step away from the railing. “My God...” Donovan turned to the Visitor, trying to imagine the reptilian face beneath the mask. “But...”

“I don’t like the idea any more than you do,” Martin said softly. “Why do you think some of us are resisting?”

“Only some!” Mike snapped, appalled at the images running through his mind.

“Most of them don’t know the truth. They’ve been led to believe humans are no more intelligent than cattle, with a tendency towards violence. Those that dared to question such propaganda were either converted or had unfortunate accidents befall them. Currently, the consequence is usually torture and execution.”

Mike wandered over to another pod, looking at the woman within. “Tony... is he in here now?”

“No.” Martin shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mike. We couldn’t get to him in time.”

“Can I see him?”

Martin had to strain to hear the question, and met Mike’s eyes in sympathy, nodding.

At first Mike was quiet as he followed Martin through the labyrinthian corridors, overwhelmed by grief. Then the reporter in him had surfaced and the questions started. “How’d someone like that get to be your Leader, anyway?”

“Charisma. Circumstances, promises. Not enough of us spoke out to question him until it was too late. It happens on your planet, doesn’t it?” Martin replied.

“I guess it does. How’s Barbara?”

“She’s recovering.” Martin paused outside the door to Tony’s cell. “Look, Mike, this won’t be pleasant for you. Are you sure you...”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Martin activated the door and led Mike to a platform that was covered by a sheet. Mike lifted the cover and looked at his friend’s body. “Tony... God...” He let the fabric fall back over his partner’s face and placed a hand on Tony’s head in silent benediction. “Diana?”

“Yes. She’s authorized some medical experiments.” Martin’s tone was bitter.

“I want to kill her.”

“You’re not alone,” Martin said. 

A noise in the corner drew their attention, and Mike went over to talk to the prisoner. Martin stood nearby, watching and planning. Donovan was on board, and could lead Martin to the human resistance. Karen would be left to fend for herself, but would probably be okay if another columnist helped her. Karen knew of several, so that wasn’t a problem, either. Barbara could continue orchestrating the fifth column efforts on the ship while he helped educate and train human rebels on the surface.

“Mike,” Martin said, getting his attention. He moved back over to Tony’s body and waited for Mike to join him. “Can you find your way to shuttle bay four?”

“Is that the main one?”

Martin nodded.

“I think so.”

“Take him,” Martin indicated the prisoner, “And meet me there. My shuttle is parked in its usual spot.”

“Where are you going?”

“To get another prisoner. Diana is using a rebel’s daughter to coerce him into spying on your resistance group.”

“Okay. We’ll be there.” Mike watched Martin leave, then went to prepare the human.

* * * *

Martin wanted to curse at Robin as he escorted her to the shuttle bay. She fought him every step of the way, which attracted attention. He hauled her arm roughly and managed to refrain from smacking her as he escorted her to the shuttle. It was a relief to have Mike grab her and shove her inside. “Let’s go,” Martin said and tried to ascend the steps.

“You’re coming too?” Mike made no move to let him pass.

“Well, I can’t stay here.”

“You ought to.”

“But, Mike-”

“You’d be more valuable to us here.”

“But I’ve got to fly this thing for you.” Martin was becoming more frightened by the minute. Every moment spent arguing increased their chances of attracting the attention of the guards.

“I’m a pilot. I’ve ridden in enough of these things to try.”

“But listen, Mike...”

“Martin, say it man, you’re scared.” Donovan grabbed hold of the front of Martin’s uniform.

Martin nodded, wishing Mike would let go of his vest and let him in. “Yeah. It’s very, very dangerous for me here now.”

“What does he look like, a Sunday afternoon in Disneyland?” Mike demanded, letting go of Martin to point to the human who had shared Tony’s cell. “I’m sure Barbara was scared, and Tony too. Hell, man, we’re all scared. Every last damn one of us. But we’ve each got to help out in the best way we can. Now how about it, man, you game?”

Martin considered for a long moment. He could fight his way past the cameraman, but that would also attract attention. Maybe he would be lucky and no one would remember seeing him drag Robin through the ship’s passages. Karen’s brother was still in storage, and he did have the suicide capsule to use if it came to that. Damn him, Mike probably didn’t even realize how deeply ingrained Martin’s sense of duty was, yet he had managed to use it against him anyway. “You’ll have a tendency to overcompensate, Mike. The controls are very very sensitive. But if you let it, Mike, it will almost fly itself.”

Mike grinned at him. “I hope so.” 

Martin turned to go, wondering if Mike would be able to cheat death one more time.

“Hey, I’m proud to have you as a friend,” Mike said as he offered his hand.

Martin turned back and complied with the human gesture, while forcing himself to smile back. He needed to get away from the shuttle quickly since the guards were certain to notice them soon. “I hope we live to be old friends,” he said, then stepped away so Mike wouldn’t try to continue the conversation. 

He didn’t let himself relax until Karen arrived in his quarters at the end of a double shift. For once, she had good news to share. The attack on the rebel base had failed. Somehow, the humans had managed to defend their position long enough to effect a retreat to a new, unknown location, aided in part by Mike’s arrival in the shuttle. Martin shook his head, marveling at the uncanny luck which seemed to keep the cameraman alive against all odds. She had heard that Robin was missing from her cell, but none of the rumors had mentioned even the possibility of Martin being involved. Relieved, he allowed her to distract him from the dangers of the past few hours and raise his spirits with her unique brand of humor.

* * * *

As the days became weeks, Martin was surprised at Karen’s patience. She rarely asked if he had made any progress in freeing her brother. As frustrated as he knew she must be at the delays, she seemed to understand the limits imposed by the situation. Her focus instead was directed towards aiding the fifth column. He had tested her once, without her knowledge, by asking her to transfer a cryptic message to another columnist. Not once did she ask him to explain the message, and the contact reported she had transferred the information in a timely yet cautious manner. Encouraged by her performance, he began to assign her other tasks, and she proved herself valuable to him. In addition, she was able to provide him with more explicit information regarding Diana’s activities than the other fifth columnists had access to.

* * * *

“What’s an ulcer?” Martin asked her one night as they snuggled. 

“In what context?” 

“‘Don’t be so negative, Martin, or you’ll give yourself an ulcer,’” he quoted. He felt her tense immediately. “What?”

Kim bit back her laugh and tried to quell her shaking. “Who told you that?”

“Donovan.”

“Oh, God.” She allowed herself a chuckle and hid her face in his chest so she could grin idiotically. When she regained control of herself, she answered him. “An ulcer in this context is an irritated stomach lining, caused by a bacterial infection. At one time it was commonly thought that stress could cause an ulcer, and many foods can aggravate the condition. What exactly are you so pessimistic about?”

“What’s so funny about an ulcer?” Martin persisted, wanting to understand the humor.

“I’m just picturing Mike teasing you like that. Rats aren’t normally on the list of offending foods, you know.” She turned serious again. “What has you worried?”

“They plan to expose John’s real face during the broadcast from the hospital.”

“That’s great!”

“Are you serious?” he inquired

“You don’t think it’s a good idea?” she asked back.

“No. Security is so tight now... and is it really going to make a difference?”

“It might. You have to understand how xenophobic most humans are....whoever decided you should pose as humans sure understood. Reptiles of any kind are feared, and usually associated with evil, even in the most ancient of texts and legends. One story of creation tells of trickery by a snake that got early man evicted from paradise. The Godzilla movies have a huge lizard destroying cities, and even your average turtle gets bad press. The resistance is trying to capitalize on that and emphasize how alien you are, to get more people motivated to fight back. The broadcast from the hospital announcing the cure for cancer is certain to draw a great deal of attention. If the resistance can expose that large of an audience to the truth, think how many people might decide to challenge the Visitors’ propaganda. Globally, at worst a few hundred people will decide to become active. Probably many more than that. And every one of them is one more than is active now.”

“You seem so sure,” Martin said.

“I know human nature. Minor shades of skin tones have been used to justify enslavement of different ethnic groups in the past, and while black people– a.k.a. African Americans– are now free in this country, they still face prejudice every day. If minor skin tones incite that much discord among humans, think what green scales could do.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“At the very least, the resistance is staging a large-scale attack. That’s a big risk for them, but it’s the direction they need to go in. Fifth column support of their plans can help encourage them to keep doing it, as well as minimize their risks.”

“They don’t seem to understand the risks the fifth column is taking.”

“Maybe not. So you do what you can, when you can, and hope you don’t develop an ulcer!” Her tone turned playful again and she winked at him before wondering if he even knew what a wink meant.

* * * *

The raid on the hospital was a success, and Kim tried to believe the risks had been worth it to all involved. The fifth column had jammed the controls, so the signal continued to be broadcast in spite of orders to shut the transmission down. Diana had quickly staged a rebroadcast of the same event the next night, minus the rebels, claiming that the first attempt had been a fraud. Kim believed that at least some viewers would not be fooled. Still, Diana’s resourcefulness had disheartened her. 

Most disturbing of all was the news that Juliet Parish, the leader of the rebel raid on the hospital, had been captured. Julie. Jackie’s little sister. Kim’s hands shook when she heard the news, and she had spent the evening in her own quarters, too upset to do any acting with Martin. He was too busy, anyway, both trying to “help” Diana and the other commanders recover from the incident, and protecting fifth columnists from being implicated in the transmission-jamming fiasco.

* * * *

When she joined him in his quarters the next night, she asked if he thought there was any chance Julie would be rescued. He had been silent for several seconds after that, then quietly answered, “No, she’s too important a prisoner. The resulting security increase could suffocate the fifth column movement. We can’t afford that risk for just one person.” He had sighed then, and added quietly, “I hate having to make these decisions. I wish we could protect them all.” 

For the remainder of the evening, she had been the one comforting him. Knowing it would only add to his burden, she vowed to never let slip that Julie was like a sister to her.

* * * *

"Are you all right?" Martin asked her as they got dressed in their uniforms the following morning. 

"I'm fine." Kim’s voice was cheerful, though the tone was false.

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten anything for several mornings now."

Can you blame me? Kim mentally retorted. "I'm just not hungry; I'll eat later." She smiled at him and went into the bathroom. 

Still not convinced, Martin went over to the doorway and watched her carefully sip water from her cupped hands. He stepped inside and closed the door.

Karen turned to him with a sigh. "I'm nauseated. Probably because I'm so tired. Maybe because of the pitiful breakfast selection you have out there.” The joke sounded lame.

"You’ve been sick every morning for several days now,” Martin pointed out.

“And the same breakfast has been available every morning for several days now. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. " Another wave of nausea hit her and she took a deep breath. Martin moved to steady her.

“I’m not convinced.”

Kim brushed off his concern. “Being nauseated in the morning is hardly an indication that I’m dying. Morning sickness usually means...”

“What? What does it mean?” Martin prodded.

“Oh, my God!” Kim felt her face go pale beneath the double masks. She dismissed the thought quickly. “That’s absurd. Can’t be...”

“Do you think you could complete one of your sentences so I have some idea what you are talking about?” Martin asked, getting very concerned.

Kim looked at her watch. “I’m going to be late. I don’t have time to explain now. If you can think of an errand to send me on today, down on the surface, I’d be grateful. I’ll borrow some civilian clothes from the storage bins and change in the shuttle.” She ran her hand through her hair as she thought aloud. “Is there any US currency on board I could steal? I only need twenty dollars or so.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.” Kim turned to him and looked him in the eye, trying to appear calm. “If my suspicion is correct, I’ll know tomorrow morning. Either way, it’s not that serious, although it could be... complicated. It’s nothing you’ll need to worry about. I’ll explain in the morning, if I’m right. I’ll see you later,” Kim finished and breezed past him so she would not be late reporting for duty.

* * * *

As soon as she woke the next morning, she went into the bathroom, taking a small package with her. Martin had tried to question her the night before, but she had evaded answering him, and hidden the purchased item from him before he could question her about it. A part of her found the very idea of what she was doing preposterous. Still, it would explain the way she had been feeling of late. Resolved to follow through on her ridiculous hunch, she opened the home pregnancy test and sat down on the floor to read the directions.

* * * *

Martin woke alone in bed. He lay there dozing for a few minutes, before realizing Karen’s absence might be prolonged. She had said she would explain her strange behavior this morning. Had she barricaded herself in the bathroom? He glanced at the door and saw it was partially open. Puzzled, he got out of bed to investigate.

He looked in and saw Karen sitting on the floor, looking amazed. She was wearing one of the dark blue off-duty tunics she had found in his clothing locker. The sleeveless jumper stopped mid thigh on her, and it occurred to him she looked quite alluring in it. Where did that thought come from? Dismissing it absently, he studied her face. Her cheeks were wet and she was staring at the wall. “Karen?”

Her eyes never left the wall, although she waved a hand at him dramatically. “Come on in. Join the party.”

“Can you explain anything yet?” Martin asked softly, sitting down near her after he closed the door. Something in her posture told him the explanation was going to take a few minutes.

“Explain?” Kim laughed hysterically for a moment, still avoiding his gaze. “No...” Her head lolled to one side as she gazed at a small item she was holding in her lap. “Diana might be able to, but somehow that doesn’t strike me as a good idea.” She held up the oblong piece of plastic. “It’s positive.” She nodded her head once, sharply. “That much I can tell you. But explain? No.... Sorry.... Can’t.” She laughed again, in a way he found alarming.

“What’s positive?” Martin asked, hoping for clarification. Her strange behavior was unlike any he had ever seen her display. On other occasions, she had shown a sense of humor, or anger, or even outrage. But this dazed, flippant persona she was displaying seemed dangerously unbalanced. 

“The test. The pregnancy test. I’m pregnant,” she said, looking at him for the first time.

“Pregnant?” he repeated.

“Pregnant. As in reproduction. As in the proverbial birds and bees. As in going to have a baby.”

“Right...” Martin said slowly, sensing some information was still being omitted.

“You don’t find that a bit...unusual?” Kim asked, feeling wicked. He didn’t understand his own role yet! Oh, to have a camera to capture the moment of truth!

“Should I?” Martin asked calmly.

“Yes!” Kim grinned foolishly. “See, usually for a human to get pregnant, it takes the participation of another human. But I have never participated in the necessary activities with another human.” Each time she said it, she emphasized the word ‘human.’ “So, no, I can’t explain it. It shouldn’t be possible. It ISN’T possible, but I’m pregnant!” Kim held up the plastic again and waved it like a trophy.

Martin’s face, previously filled with concern, drained of expression as her meaning registered. “How?”

“Can’t help you with that one!” Kim’s tone was caustic. “ I already told you, I can’t explain the facts, just report them.” She flung the plastic device into the wall in a burst of anger. It bounced away before sliding across the floor. “Now, if you want to invite Diana down here and ask her a few hundred questions about what she did to Robin Maxwell that day when I was there, and then explain to HER who I am and why I’m here, she might be able to tell you. And then she’ll kill us both.” Kim lay down on the floor and folded her hands behind her head. “Which brings us back to where I’ve been for the last half hour.” She lifted her head to look at him. “But I can now tell you why I’ve been sick every morning! Aren’t you glad you asked?”

“Are you sure?” This was impossible! 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Kim’s tone was serious for the first time. “I’ve never been pregnant before, but I have friends with children. I know the signs, and I have all of them.” She sat up again. “The one thing I still can’t figure out is why it worked on me. Yes, I was in the lab with Robin. But she had Brian in the lab, too, that day. And you were nowhere near them when they were doing God-knows-what to his chromosomes. This goes against everything I ever learned about reproduction. Two different species, especially ones from two different planets, cannot produce children together. Even to get a mule, the two parent species have to be closely related. You and I are not what I would call closely related.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Get drunk.” Kim lay down on the floor again. It felt good to let her emotions run rampant for a little while. Let someone else be the responsible thinker. She needed to have a mini-breakdown before the morning shift. “I’ve never been drunk. I don’t even like to drink! Would you believe I never met an alcoholic beverage I liked? But I think I could get past that little obstacle right now. I want to get drunk. At least then, tomorrow morning I’ll wake up with a hangover and have a new reason to feel like throwing up. But seeing as how drinking while pregnant is dangerous, I’m going to have to wait a few months. Normally, I’d say I have to wait nine months, but we don’t know that in this case, do we?” 

“I’m serious, Karen. What do you want us to do?”

“Us? As in we?” Karen repeated back to him, not even looking for his nod. “At the risk of offending all of the activists for women’s rights and equality, I’m going to point out that under these particular circumstances, it’s not your problem.”

“I disagree.”

“Figured you would.” Kim talked to the ceiling. “But you’re not pregnant. I am. Sort of makes it my problem. As far as what I should do... not much I can do. Either I’ll have a miscarriage or a baby. Assuming a baby, the child will either live or die. And given the unique circumstances surrounding this blessed event, I may die, too. Maybe not right away, maybe next week. Since Diana’s meddling with things had an affect on me, I have to assume my immune system has been altered in the process. Maybe I’ll never catch a cold again, or maybe I’ll be vulnerable to diseases other humans are immune to.” As she talked, her tone became more reasonable, more normal. The science was helping ground her in reality. She clung to the technical terms, using her training in objective thinking as a lifeline to pull her back from the edge of insanity. Her behavior this morning had to be alarming to Martin, she realized. Still, everyone was entitled to have a bad time now and then. “I guess I’d better get dressed,” Kim said, sitting up slowly. She was suddenly embarrassed at her display of the past hour, and she avoided Martin’s gaze.

“What about an abortion?”

“And where am I supposed to go to get that? Diana? A local hospital on the surface? And what am I supposed to tell them? ‘Hi, I’m really human and the Visitors aren’t and I’m pregnant with a hybrid thanks to Diana’s medical experiments, so I want an abortion. And by the way, will this be covered by insurance?’” Kim shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Karen,” he said softly, reaching out to put his hand on her upper arm.

“I’m okay.” Kim took a deep breath and forced herself to meet his penetrating gaze. “I just needed a while to absorb all this. Since my life hasn’t been normal since I was about five, I don’t know why anything surprises me anymore. But this took me off guard, I have to admit.”

“I understand,” Martin said. He stood up, then helped her to her feet. “But you don’t have to deal with this alone.”

Kim opened the door so she didn’t have to answer him. What could she say? Their cultures were different and the rules of conduct she knew didn’t even apply here. She wasn’t even sure what game they were playing anymore.

* * * *

Kim whispered to him one night soon after her revelation in the bathroom, “Is it possible for me to go see Andy? I’m getting pretty overwhelmed with everything that has happened. Maybe if I could see him, see that he’s really okay for now, it would help. If you think it’s too risky, I understand.”

Martin considered for a moment before replying, weighing the risks. “It should be possible. Tomorrow, during your shift, I’ll come by for an inspection. ”

“Thank you.” 

* * * *

As promised, Martin arrived midway through her shift and announced he wanted to tour the storage area with her while they discussed the mission’s progress. She allowed herself to be led through an endless maze of storage pods. As far as she could see, in every direction, unit after unit held a fellow human being. How many had she helped put here? Her thoughts were jarred back to the present when Martin indicated a unit, then stood back for her to have a moment alone.

Kim pressed her face close and peered in. "Andy,” she whispered, and stood there looking at him. His serene expression was the same as it had been on countless nights in another life, when Kim looked in on him before retiring to her own room for the night. "Andy, can you hear me? It's Kim. I'm here, honey. I'm doing everything I can. I'll have you out of there soon. I promise." 

Kim hoped desperately that he could hear her, but she knew that a response was impossible. Still, if he even knew she was there, it would help. Did he know? She pressed her face against the cool surface of the cocoon, fighting back tears. "Control!" she ordered herself fiercely. "Do you want to get yourself killed?" She shut her eyes, willing herself to breathe deeply and get her emotions buried behind a composed demeanor.

Martin stood patiently nearby, quietly waiting and keeping a watch out for anyone who might question their presence in the restricted area. In a few minutes he moved up behind her and touched her arm. She leaned against him, grateful for his support.

"He must be very special for you to have done what you have," Martin said quietly, looking at the youthful human face that floated in the gelatin matrix.

"He is. He's all the family I have now," Kim whispered, more to herself than to Martin.

He heard her anyway. "I’m sorry, but we have to go. Someone's coming," he told her when he felt the approach of footsteps.

Kim allowed him to lead her away, her mind numb. 

* * * *

Martin approached the human voices cautiously. Meetings with the human rebels were necessary, but fraught with danger. If anyone from the ship were to learn of these encounters... He idly reached under his collar and fingered the suicide capsule tucked beneath the pseudoskin on his neck. At least he would be able to avoid lengthy torture if he were caught.

"So, where's your little ’gator friend?" 

Martin didn’t recognize the voice and stopped, listening for any sounds that would indicate a trap.

"Cool it with that talk, he's one of us,” he heard Mike’s voice answer and relaxed slightly. Apparently, Donovan had brought someone else to meet him. He made his way towards the front of the parked vehicle, then deliberately scuffed his boot on the cement, knowing how difficult it was for Mike to sense his approach. 

"Gooder, you'll trust just about anyone. This whole set-up stinks." The man with Donovan stood up as Martin approached. "Just like a swamp ’gator --sneak up on you every time."

"Martin." Donovan held out his hand, trying to act as if he had not heard the rude comment Ham had made.

Martin hesitated for a fraction of an instant, trying to remember the details of the custom, then held out his own hand. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Karen had the same difficulty with Sirian customs. “Donovan."

Mike looked at the person he had brought with him. "This... person is one of us. I don't like him, but I trust him. I ask you to do the same."

"I trust you, Mike. That's enough," Martin answered carefully, looking the older man over. His thinning hair and receded hairline gave Martin the impression he was older than Donovan, though his body movements were more fluid than that of the other human. The eyes that returned his scrutiny were cold and inexpressive.

"How's Julie?" Mike steered the conversation to the real reason for their meeting.

"She hasn't broken yet, but she will." 

"We've got to get her out of this. We need you and the other fifth columnists to help."

"I wish there was something I could do, Mike, but under the circumstances..."

"You do as the man tells you or I'll turn you into an hors d'oeuvre," the man said, addressing Martin directly for the first time.

Martin regarded Ham Tyler for a moment and looked at Mike. There was a slight twinkle in his eye. "Are there many more like this one?"

"Fortunately, selective breeding keeps their numbers minimum," Mike replied, smiling.

Martin nodded. "All right, I'll listen. But, I can promise nothing," he added, looking Tyler in the eye.

"Since you guys are so good with the masks, I thought maybe you could fix me up as a guard or something- someone close enough to Julie to spring her without risking the rest of you."

"It's out of the question, Mike. Security is far too tight. You'd never get past the landing bay." Martin glanced over his shoulder out of habit, thinking.

"He's right, Gooder, but your idea about the masks is a good one." Tyler looked at Martin, daring him to argue that point.

Martin got the distinct impression that Mike hadn't told this man any of his plans. So why had he brought him along? Probably because the older man had insisted on coming, he decided. "Not a new idea, though," Martin said, thinking about Karen’s deception. "It's already being incorporated into an attack on Diana."

"Explain," Ham said gruffly.

"Plans are underway for a fifth columnist to pose as Donovan and try to kill Diana."

"What if it doesn't work?" Ham asked.

"They'll find out that the assassin is really a fifth columnist and Diana will be discredited. She's already on unstable footing. There's another mothership on its way. The commander, Pamela, outranks her and they've been at odds for a long time. She won't look kindly on Diana's problems with the fifth column and your resistance."

"Can we use that to help get Julie out? We need her back, Martin. She's the one who organized our group. The only thing really holding them together is the hope she'll come back. Ham here isn't great at dealing with people." Mike jerked his thumb at Tyler. "If he takes over...."

"Ham? Isn't that slang for a comedian?" Martin asked. He wondered why Ham kept calling Mike “Gooder,” but sensed this was not the time to inquire.

Mike nodded and laughed while Ham gnashed his teeth. "I think it fits."

Martin nodded absently, his mind back on the problem with Julie. He crossed his arms and frowned slightly, considering the options.

"You have an idea?"

"Give him a minute to think, Gooder. Not everyone makes knee-jerk decisions like you do," Tyler ordered gruffly while Martin took a few steps away, thinking. While he didn't trust the Visitor, he wanted to give him a chance, and enough rope to hang himself.

Martin took a couple of minutes before turning back to Mike. "If I can get Julie transferred to security headquarters, can you get enough people to attack while she's being unloaded from the shuttle?"

"Probably. Gooder?" Ham answered

"Yeah, we can do it. Can you have her moved at night?"

"I can suggest it, but there is no guarantee they will agree. "

"What are you thinking?" Ham was wary, and his tone reflected his skepticism.

"After the assassination, I expect John, Steven, and Pamela to be very concerned about the fifth column. I'll suggest they transfer important prisoners like Julie to a more ‘secure’ facility on the surface.”

"Think they'll agree?" Mike broke in.

Martin nodded and smiled slightly. "We've been busy." He checked over his shoulder again. "They'll probably want me along, too. Assuming I am, I'll take Julie's arm while going from the shuttle to the building. Who's your best marksman?"

"Probably you are, Ham."

Ham Tyler nodded.

Martin looked him in the eyes. "While Julie and I are walking, I want you to shoot me in the leg. I'll go down and take her with me. That will keep her out of the way and give me credibility."

"We're not going to shoot you!" Mike said, incensed at the idea.

"You will if you want Julie back. Conversion is very stressful, Mike. Her reflexes are slow. And if I'm not wounded, I'll have no excuse for not getting her inside during the attack."

"When will they move her?"

"Probably after the assassination. I'll give you the details as soon as I know. It may take me a few days to get this all coordinated. Are you sure you have enough people to succeed?"

"You just worry about getting her moved," Mike answered.

"One more thing. Do either of you know anything about a Kimberly Winthrop?" Martin asked.

Mike shook his head. "Never heard of her."

"No, why?" Ham said, making a mental note to himself to check her background.

"Her name has come up." Martin looked at Mike. "I'll be in contact soon." He turned to Ham. "Remember, this is my leg," he said meaningfully as he pointed at his thigh. He saw Mike grin before he turned away and headed back to his shuttle.

* * * *

When Martin returned to his quarters later that evening, he saw Karen lying in his bed and wished for once she would just go away and leave him alone.

She stretched and rolled onto her side to watch him. It was readily apparent to her that he was exhausted. 

"Not tonight," he said more gruffly than he intended and sat down at the computer console to work.

She let him work in peace for almost an hour before she realized he would probably stay up all night. She smiled slightly, amused to realize that she was known to do the same thing when wrestling with a problem. She knew Martin couldn't afford to lose any more sleep. There were too many fifth column activities that required his assistance for him to risk poor judgment due to fatigue.

Kim got up and went into the bathroom. Martin had told her he never used the tub because he thought water was too precious to waste on such frivolities. Too bad! Like it or not, she intended to help him unwind. It was the least she could do for him.

When the tub was full of soothing, warm water, she approached him. Leaning over his shoulder, she put her arms around him and whispered in his ear, "You need to take a break and relax. Give me half an hour."

Martin sighed, irritated that she wasn't going to just leave him alone like he had asked. Resigned, he got up and followed her into the bathroom. Perhaps she had news she needed to share with him. He had been rather abrupt with her. 

"Aren't you going to get in?" he asked once he was settled.

"Nope. Just shut your eyes and try to relax for a few minutes," she said as she began to massage his neck. "Judging from the knots in your muscles, I'd say you've had a tough day," she commented.

He sighed appreciatively and slouched forward a little. A wave of drowsiness washed over him as the heat from the water penetrated deep into his body. Her hands moved from his neck and began to knead his shoulders and back. It felt good to be pampered, though he wasn't used to it. "Why are you doing this?" he asked before sighing again. 

"Friends help each other,” she answered calmly, though her emotions were in more turmoil than ever. Her relationship with Martin defied description, especially in light of her pregnancy.

He thought about that for awhile. Friends? He didn't have friends, only rivals and colleagues. He wondered if maybe he should go to bed instead of working. It was so hard to concentrate, as tired as he was. He forced himself to replay the day’s events in his mind. "I met with Donovan today."

"Was it planned or did he just pop up in the corridor again?"

Martin shook his head, amused. "No, it was planned. We're going to try to break Julie out."

"I thought you said it was too risky."

"It is. But it's better than attempting to keep Donovan from slipping on board and trying to break her out. All he would do is get himself captured."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Kim joked. "Do you think you'll be able to get her out?"

"I'll know better in a couple of days. If everything works like it's supposed to, I think so."

"Good." Kim paused. "She's a friend of mine. It's been hard seeing her go through what she has."

"You didn't tell me you knew her." Martin straightened up and turned to her.

"You've done enough. We're fighting a war. I don't expect you or anyone else to protect all of the people I care about."

Martin nodded, understanding. "Still, I want you to tell me."

“Okay.” 

He stood up and stepped out of the tub to dry off. Kim helped him, then picked his uniform up from the floor. "Thank you,” he said, taking it from her.

“It’s the least I can do, after all you’ve done for me.”

“If this plan goes as it is supposed to, I’m going to be in the infirmary for a few days.” He held up a hand at her look of alarm. “Just a flesh wound,” he reassured her, warding off more questions. “Don’t come to me there unless absolutely necessary. I’ll send word when it is safe for you to come to my quarters again. And try to stay clear of Diana as much as you can for the next few days. We’re going to try to assassinate her and you don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.” He waited for her nod, then opened the door. “Let’s get some sleep.”

* * * *

The assassination attempt failed, due to bad luck, but still provided Martin with the opening to recommend Julie’s transfer. The Donovan impostor had been captured and taken to Diana as planned, only to find that Diana had gone into the conversion chamber itself. The fifth columnist had opened fire at his first opportunity, but had been killed himself without Diana even being wounded. The only redeeming consequence had been Steven’s discovery that “Donovan” was actually a Visitor. Pamela had made no move to demote Diana, but Martin could tell she was not pleased with Diana’s reaction to the incident. In fact, it appeared to Martin that Diana’s outburst was in some ways more alarming to Pamela than the fifth column. Diana had made an emotional spectacle of herself, grudgingly agreed to move Julie to the surface, then stormed out of the morgue in a tantrum. 

Steven’s image had also suffered from the assassination attempt. As head of security, he was supposed to protect the fleet from the fifth column movement. Martin wished he could watch him try to justify his poor performance to Pamela. Steven, as ambitious as he was, would most likely blame Diana for limiting his efforts to increase security. After all, Diana was the ship commander. How unfortunate for both Steven and Diana, Martin reflected with wry satisfaction, that they had been assigned to duty on the same vessel, given the long-standing animosity between the two.

* * * *

Martin forced himself to look callous when he opened the door to Julie’s cell. She was naked and shivering, and she had a fearful look in her eyes. Huddled on the corner of the bunk furthest from the door, she had visibly cowered when the door opened. “Get dressed,” he ordered her gruffly as he threw a uniform on the floor, then tossed a pair of boots and a cap on top of it. 

Numbly, she moved to obey him, then hesitated, hoping for privacy. 

“Now!” he barked at her. This was not the time for a display of sympathy. The two guards behind him aimed their rifles at her and she quickly scurried to do their bidding. As soon as she was dressed, he took her arm and propelled her into the corridor, then guided her towards the shuttle bays. One guard went ahead of them, while the second fell in behind. 

She walked beside him obediently until they reached the shuttle. Diana waited next to the ramp and he felt her arm tense in his grasp. Her pace slowed and he jerked her along, hoping she’d forgive him for the rough treatment. To her credit, she avoided casting a pleading gaze in his direction, but she flinched visibly when Diana greeted her and stroked her hair. He had to forcibly move her up the ramp and into the shuttle.

During the journey to the surface, there was no conversation in the shuttle, except for when Steven notified them they were almost to their destination. Martin hoped Ham would refrain from modifying the plan and kill him outright. Ideally, Ham Tyler would decide to try to kill Diana instead. Though it wasn’t part of their plans for Julie’s escape, Diana’s death would be a welcome event. Her recent fits of temper made her too unpredictable and Martin knew her usefulness to him was past. He imagined Diana’s reaction to discovering how Martin had manipulated her and smiled inwardly.

He turned to study Julie. Her eyes were dazed and she stared vacantly at the panels behind him. The conversion process, though incomplete, had done untold damage to her mind, he knew. Only time would show if her strength of will would allow her to overcome the lasting effects. 

When the shuttle finally touched down, he waited while the two guards stepped out and moved into position on either side of the opening. Grasping her arm firmly, he forced her to walk beside him towards the large house a few paces away. The shot would come any time now. He took a step, then another...

A shooting pain seared his right leg and he felt the knee collapse from under him. He pulled Julie down with him, and held her to the ground while bullets cut through the air over them. Diana and Steven ran past, heading for the protection of the house. Without letting go of Julie, he yelled to her over the gunfire, “Head towards the house, stay on the ground!” Even if he were overheard, he would be able to explain that comment away. 

She obeyed, though her movements were sluggish. Martin hauled himself along the ground with his free arm while pushing off with his good leg. He stopped when he had her on the carpeted area next to the side entrance. Here, they should be able to avoid most of the gunfire. He’d think up a reason for not using his own firearm against the rebels later. 

“Julie, these are Pamela’s plans to drain California of water.” He spoke quickly, not expecting a response. He fixed her gaze on his and gave her an order he hoped conversion would make her obey. “Give them to Mike.” He tucked them into the front of her uniform and glanced around. A truck was approaching rapidly and he helped her to her feet. Ham seemed to materialize from nowhere. He ignored Martin completely and grabbed Julie, tossing her into the back of the pickup before climbing aboard himself. Someone else threw an object into the nearby shuttle, and it exploded upon impact, temporarily blinding him.

When his vision cleared, he examined the wound on his leg. Although it was quite painful, Ham had restrained himself and given him only a flesh wound. It did not appear to Martin that the bullet had impacted bone, which would speed his recovery drastically.

* * * *

In the infirmary, Steven, Diana, and Pamela came to hear his recounting of events. “I’ve ordered a full investigation!” Diana spat the words as she paced at the foot of his treatment bed. “For the record, Martin, what happened?”

Martin sat in bed, wearing a short tunic. The pseudoskin on his right thigh had been removed for surgery. Green scales surrounded the wound-sealing bandage, before disappearing under human-looking flesh. He fingered the edge of the healing patch, managing to look like a commanding officer, even though he was out of uniform and in bed. “I was escorting the prisoner to security headquarters. I was shot in the leg, and pulled her down with me, to keep her from getting injured in the fighting. I made her crawl alongside me towards the house. I got her to the steps and then someone grabbed her and threw her in a truck. The shuttle exploded, and that blinded me for a few seconds. When my vision cleared, the rebels were gone.”

“Why didn’t you get her inside?”

“I had been shot in the leg and was unable to walk. The more important question, Diana, is why did you and Steven both run for the house, while our prisoner was still out in the open?” Martin looked from one to the other. “Neither of you appear to have been injured. Either one of you could easily have forced her to go with you.” Martin’s voice was diplomatic, which he knew annoyed Diana even more than open hostility.

“An excellent question,” Pamela chimed in. “Why did both of you run for the house? From what I am hearing, of the three of you, Martin is the only one who acted like an officer!”

“This would never have happened if Steven’s security measures–” Diana started to explain.

“Enough!” Pamela snapped. “I’m putting this in your records. You are both dismissed.”

Martin watched impassively as Steven and Diana stormed out, then turned to Pamela. What an unexpected compliment she had given him! And to think, the only officer who had acted like an officer was the leader of the fifth column! He couldn’t hide his amusement at the irony.

“You look...” Pamela searched for the right word.

“Disgusted?” Martin supplied helpfully. “Tonight’s events should never have been allowed to happen.” 

Pamela sat down on the edge of the bed. “What happened to you, Martin? We all know you should be in command of this mission. Yet you were demoted.” Her fingers traced the human contours of his chest. “The rumors say–”

“Rumors?” Martin said. “You should know better than to believe rumors, Commander. And the cause for my demotion is clearly stated in my records, which you have access to. I fail to see the relevance of your question.”

“The relevance is that we have a power-hungry fool and the Leader’s former consort battling for authority, while the humans make us look incompetent.” 

Martin chose his words carefully. “The humans have proven to be more resourceful than initial reports indicated them having the potential for. If the ship’s leaders continue to underestimate them, they will continue to be surprised by them. The humans may be primitive, but they are also very clever. Nothing should be left to chance.”

“So you think Diana is unsuited to command?”

“I would never speak so harshly of a commanding officer, Commander,” Martin countered, keeping his opinion hidden within the protective limits of his rank. “My only concern is that petty personnel disputes are compromising efficiency.”

“We understand each other, then,” Pamela said softly. “Because we share that concern.” Her fingers traced the edge of the torn pseudoskin. “How long until you are allowed to return to duty?”

“Three days before I resume light duty, then perhaps five or six more before I resume my normal responsibilities.”

“Perhaps I can suggest a way for you to fill your idle time while you recover.”

“I’m listening,” Martin said, hiding his dread.

“I would like to have your thoughts on how the situation with the humans should be handled. The Leader wants results, and you have a long history of getting him the results he asks for.”

“You want me to tell you how to proceed?” Martin feigned surprise at her unusual request. Commanders did not go to lieutenants for strategic advice. 

“You use bold words where none were implied. I am only asking for your input, based on your experience,” Pamela clarified, speaking as carefully as he. “I should like to read your report, strictly off the record, in one week.”

“Consider it done.”

Pamela nodded once and left.

Martin stared at the door after it closed behind her. He had one week in which to develop faulty but believable advice in dealing with the humans. Karen could prove to be especially useful in this circumstance. Perhaps he could get released to go to his quarters in the morning.

* * * *

Kim took advantage of Martin’s confinement to the infirmary and used the time normally spent with him in the rec hall, hoping Philip would come. Most of their contacts had been limited to nods that they were both surviving, but tonight, she didn’t want to be alone. Perhaps he would come to her quarters and keep her company.

She sat in a corner, sipping a glass of chilled, diluted blood, while she watched the off–duty Visitors around her. Aside from the choice of food being served, the atmosphere was the same as she would expect from humans relaxing off-duty. The sexual tension was more blatantly evident though, and several couples were in various stages of courtship on the far side of the room. Others were amusing themselves with games or talking with colleagues over drinks and snacks. She made polite small talk when approached, but made it clear she was waiting for someone in particular and the interested parties quickly moved on in search of more receptive individuals. 

She was on her second glass when Philip walked in. He scanned the room, as always, looking for her, and quickly spotted her in the corner. Her glance at the seat beside her was the only invitation he needed to join her. He gracefully seated himself next to her and let her entwine their fingers in the early signals of seduction.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Jacob,” she said softly, leaning closer to him. 

He moved his fingers and stroked her wrist, indicating receptiveness to her advances. “I’m here.”

“I’m in the mood for a small crowd tonight.” She tilted her head, and grasped his other hand in the original configuration, mirror-imaged from her first signal.

Again, his fingers moved to caress her wrist. 

“I’ve heard the humans have an expression for deciding upon the location they will adjourn to,” she leaned closer and whispered. Human courtship rituals were a frequent topic of discussion among the troops.

“What would that be?” Philip now made the first move, entwining her fingers in a new pattern.

Her other hand joined the tangle of fingers. “Your place or mine?”

“I have a roommate,” Philip reminded her. “How about ‘your place’?”

“I think I may like some of these human rituals,” Kim smiled at him, enjoying their private joke.

“I know I do,” he answered with a matching smile, then stood and offered her his hand. “Shall we go continue this discussion?”

“With pleasure.”

* * * *

In her quarters, they quickly moved to the bunk. Entwined in a lover’s embrace under the covers, they conversed in anxious whispers. “Everything okay?” he asked, concerned after hearing about Julie’s escape and Martin’s injury through ship gossip.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up,” Kim whispered.

“I know what you mean. Security is getting tighter all the time. Not once since I have been here have I seen indications of fifth column activity in my unit.”

“Then don’t risk trying to make contacts. Too many people have been trapped that way,” Kim whispered back.

“I know. But it means I follow orders and am helping the Leader rather than slowing things down. We were lucky to come back when we did. With all the procedures in place now, you’d have been discovered in the shuttle, and I would never have gotten past the landing bay. Frankly, I’m not sure how much longer either of us can safely stay. One scan of you...”

“Don’t remind me, Jacob!” she half–teased. She wondered if the scan would also detect her unusual pregnancy, then tried to dismiss the thought. The less she thought about her condition, the better. Her emotions were in enough upheaval without dealing with the changes occurring in her body.

“Any progress in getting Andrew out?”

“Martin is trying. He’s working under such strict conditions I’m amazed he gets anything done. We’re just waiting for a ship-to-ship transfer of conscious prisoners, rather than ones in storage. I’m going to be assigned guard duty on one, and I should be able to grab Andy and slip away. He’s trying, and I can’t ask for more than that.”

“I’ll help, if I can. I’ll put in a request for that sort of assignment.”

“You don’t need to do that. You’ve done so much already,” Kim argued.

“It would be nice to do something positive. Besides, I don’t dare stay much longer anyway.”

“If anything happens, go to the lab. At least you’ll be somewhat protected there.”

“I will, assuming I have to leave alone. Otherwise, I’ll just go with you.”

Kim squeezed him in a hug when he said that, but said nothing. No words were equal to the task of expressing the gratitude she felt.

“What do other fifth columnists do, when they leave?” Philip wondered quietly.

“I don’t know. But when we are done here, I aim to find out how to help them. It’s got to be terrifying, being on the run, hunted by two sides, on an alien world. Not much of a reward for them, after being here, constantly watching over their shoulders to see if someone has discovered them. I think I am truly growing eyes in the back of my head, I’m so paranoid.”

“How is Martin? I heard he was shot,” Philip changed the subject between kisses. 

“I don’t know. I’m supposed to stay away until he gives an all-clear. Guess he suspects he’s being watched.” Kim pulled the covers over their heads and grinned at him. “I can’t imagine why, since he hasn’t DONE anything!” 

Philip rolled her over and pulled the covering back down, enjoying their little tussle. It was good to spend some time with her. He’d been missing being with her in the lab more and more.

“Stay the night?” she asked, already knowing his answer.

“Try to make me leave,” he replied and felt her begin another playful wrestling match.

* * * *

When her shift ended the next afternoon, she returned to her quarters, looking forward to some leisure time alone. She was surprised to find a recorded summons to Martin’s quarters waiting for her. Rumors said he had been shot in the leg and was going to be off duty for several days and she had assumed he would be kept in the infirmary. 

She entered his quarters and was surprised to find him in a lounging tunic. It was the first time she had seen him wearing something other than his uniform. He was sitting at his console, with his right leg propped up on the second chair. “Shouldn’t you be in the infirmary, sir?” 

Martin shook his head. “I can get more work done here.” He took his leg in his hands and gently lifted it off of the chair, freeing the seat for her. It was still painful to move that leg by itself.

She sat down in the chair. “Put your leg back up here.” He complied and she looked at the bandage in disgust. “I heard that those barbaric apes had shot a hole in you. It seems that the rumors were true.”

“Indeed,” Martin said wryly. “The bullet went in one side and out the other.”

She touched the edge of the bandage where a narrow margin of his own skin was visible before disappearing under unblemished pseudoskin. “How long until you resume your duties?”

“A few days. In the meantime, I have plenty of work to keep me busy, although the confinement is irritating. While I am recovering, I have requested a temporary reassignment for you. I need some information about the activities of humans on the surface and am currently unable to go myself. For the next three days, you are working directly for me.”

“Understood.” Kim nodded. She listened dutifully while he rattled off a list of tasks for her to complete on the surface. A pilot she knew to be fifth column was assigned to accompany her, so she suspected Martin intended to have her assist him in coordinating fifth column efforts as well as see to his usual duties. 

* * * *

It wasn’t long before he tired and needed to lie down. Watching him use crutches to get from the chair to the bed was especially painful for her, in light of the fact his wounds were inflicted by allies. First Donovan had escaped by shooting Barbara, and now Julie had escaped with Martin being injured. Why did every escape have to be purchased with fifth column blood? Once he was settled, she carefully got into the bed beside him. 

He pulled her close so they could talk. “I want your input on a project Pamela has assigned me to. She wants me to come up with my own plan for how the offensive on Earth should be managed. You probably don’t realize this, but–”

“You were demoted from a much higher rank and she is trying to use your leadership experience to her advantage,” Kim interrupted.

“Is there anything you don’t know?” He was clearly surprised at her knowledge of his military record.

“Why it happened. The rumors never tell the whole story.”

“In this case, I’m glad! We don’t need my involvement with the fifth column being spread all over the ship. Had I been assigned to Earth as the commander, the takeover would have been completed by now. The Leader wanted me at home, planning an offensive on another world. The only way I could change that was to call in some favors, get myself into trouble, demoted, and sent here as punishment. It freed me from leading the offensive and allowed me to organize the fifth column,” Martin explained, as quickly as he could. This was hardly the time to be telling his life story.

“One question. Which idea came first, the demotion or the fifth column?” Finally, Kim had an opportunity to satisfy her curiosity. 

“Fifth column.”

Pleased with his answer, she switched the topic back to the more important issue. “So, Pamela has decided to try to use your experience to her advantage. Meaning you need to come up with a lot of advice that appears to be brilliantly thought out, but will be a disaster in practice. And you’re hoping my... unique perspective... will help you do that.”

“Precisely.” Martin was once again impressed with her grasp of the complexities of fifth column life.

“I’ll try. But I gotta warn you, military strategy is not my strong point.” Kim thought for a few minutes. “What about the ghettos? How many people have been taken from those parts of town?”

“Not many. So far, Diana’s efforts have focused on isolated areas and more rural suburbs. In her judgment, those people would be most complacent.”

“I agree. Well, this may backfire in a big way, but it’s worth bringing up, at least. Many of the poorer sections of town have a history of trouble with violence, drug abuse, and other crimes. Gangs run the streets, and most of them are armed. Most of the people living there have known no other life, and have no way to break out of the cycle. The rest of society generally does a lot of talking about fixing the problems of the poor, but it’s mostly a tactic for them to feel better about the problem. For the most part, the middle and upper classes ignore the problems in the ghettos and hope they will go away on their own. I’m thinking we can use the anti-crime approach for publicity. Say the Visitors are going to increase efforts to reduce crime and make the city safe for everyone. The media will love it, and thus Pamela will, too. 

“The thing is, these people have nothing to lose. And they are armed. If we can get organized crime mad at the Visitors, anger the gang leaders, put the drug dealers out of business... they just might fight back. The key will be to have a strong enough showing of troops to stir things up, but not so strong that fighting back is futile.”

“It could be made to work, I think,” Martin said, considering the suggestion.

“There is no guarantee. I’ve never lived in that part of town, so I may be predicting their responses badly,” Kim warned.

“But if there is even a chance they will resist, it would slow Pamela and John down. Besides, it gives us another opportunity to make Steven look ineffective as head of security,” Martin countered.

“I have another idea. Geez, I wish I had thought of it sooner! I just thought of a way to find other rebels.” Kim could barely contain herself and had to concentrate to keep her voice down. “I hope it’s not too late! The red-light district. We need to talk to the prostitutes. Hell, we can hire them. Even better, have a couple of fifth columnists become pimps, which would help protect all involved.”

“Prostitutes?” Martin asked, unfamiliar with that and several other terms she had used.

“Women who have sex in exchange for money. A lot of them are uneducated, runaways, drug-addicts, abuse victims. Society failed to help them, so they survive by selling their bodies. Usually, they work for a pimp. He’s someone who sets her up with customers, protects her from competition, and takes most of her profits. He functions a lot like a slave owner, frankly. One pimp will have several women ‘working’ for him.”

“How would this help us?”

“Because the men who pay to have sex with these women, the customers, come from all parts of society. And a lot of them talk to these ladies, and tell them all about their lives. They want someone to listen to them and build up their ego. I would be willing to bet that a lot of these women have some knowledge of rebel activity. Maybe some of them are working for Diana. I don’t know if anyone has thought to use them before. But if we could get a couple of male fifth columnists to pose as pimps, replacing the real ones, we might be able to get inside this crime circle. We could tell the women what is going on, have their new pimps be honest with them. Let them keep more of their money, continue to protect them from Visitor raids on the area and so on. In return, we want them to help us distribute information. Talk to their customers, and find out who is helping the resistance, find out which ones are helping Diana... my God, when I think of the plans they could help us distribute, if they were willing. And if we make sure they are treated well, rather than being abused, I think some of them would help us.”

“It’s risky; they could turn on the fifth column as easily as they could protect it.”

“We have to make them an offer that helps them out, as well as helping us. It’s worth looking into. I can tell the men going in a little bit about how things work down there. I’ve seen enough movies to know the basis of the system! And if even five women agreed to help us, we could have quite a resource on our side.”

“I’ll talk to a couple of individuals and see if they are willing to try it,” Martin agreed. “If we proceed carefully, we should be able to determine how receptive they are to helping us, before putting the fifth column at risk.”

“Back to the problem with Pamela,” Kim said. “What if we can get a few criminals aware of what is really going on? We could contact people inside the prisons and jails in the area. The inmates should have plenty of connections to the outside crime circuit, and they could stir up a few riots on the inside. As part of the public relations campaign, we could offer to put prisoners on board the ships temporarily while we treat their underlying aggression. That would be the perfect cover to get a few thousand more storage pods filled, from Pamela’s perspective. What she won’t know is that we have warned the prisoners and that they are going to fight back. And, they are going to get the word out on the streets, so more people know what is going on. We just need to find someone in the prison system who is respected by the other inmates. A murderer would be ideal, since they are at the top of the inverted value system that exists in prison. In exchange for helping the fifth column efforts, he gets a new identity at the end of the war, if we win. That would be his motivation for helping us. If we get someone who killed, but perhaps with good reason, we’d avoid letting a predator loose on society. Find someone who killed an abusive parent or spouse, and we can make them an offer too good to refuse.”

Martin was quiet for several minutes as he thought over her suggestions. Finally, he whispered, “I’m glad we are working on the same side. Your ideas are dangerous!” He squeezed her gently and continued, “Tomorrow, I need you to contact the rebels. They are planning an attack on the water pumping station. What I need you to do is find out what time they hope to attack, so I can make sure most of our fifth columnists are out of the area that day, if possible. And they may need more information from us, before they proceed. The pilot who will be taking you knows where to go for the meeting with Donovan....”

* * * *

When Martin finally finished and lapsed into a deep slumber, aided by medication, Kim let her own unease surface. Her life on board the ship was getting increasingly complicated. She was a human posing as a Visitor who was posing as a human, while pretending to be loyal despite being active in the fifth column. And now she was expanding her audience to include human rebels, who believed she was really a Visitor. It was enough to make anyone’s head spin and only reminded her how much she had to remember in order to be convincing in all of her roles. Still, she was pleased that she had been able to give Martin some advice on dealing with the humans. The humans? Strange how she no longer identified herself with her own people. If only she had taken more psychology and sociology courses in college! Getting Andrew out was still important, but she now had a better appreciation for how little one life meant against the Leader’s plans for global domination. Looking back, it was amazing to her that Martin had agreed to her request for help. In view of what so many had suffered, rescuing Andrew from a deep slumber didn’t seem as significant as it once had. She knew now that storage posed little risk to him and that he could be revived in just a few minutes; Martin had told her that the process was designed to be reversible. As long as he was alive at the end of the battle for control for the planet, she could live with him being in storage for now. In some ways, it was safer for him to be in storage than on the surface. 

Martin had added his name to a list of prisoners to be transferred to the San Francisco ship, which was close to capacity and would be leaving for the home world soon. During the massive transfer, the fifth column would be able to ‘misplace’ one pod so his revival would not be registered in the computer. They were just waiting for the transfer to commence. Now that his release was imminent, Kim was somewhat blasé about the rescue. In her mind, he had already been saved, and his release was just a technicality. What was wrong with her?

Feeling guilty about her rearranged priorities, it took her a long time to fall asleep.

* * * *

Shortly after Martin’s recovery permitted her to return to her own duties, Kim received a human prisoner in a storage pod which had been transported from the Phoenix ship. Her orders were to revive her and deliver her to Diana. Apparently, this individual had been captured aiding in an attack on a Visitor installation, and resisted normal questioning. She was being sent to Diana with recommendations for conversion and torture, since it was thought she was a key player in a human rebel effort in the Phoenix area. It took all of Kim’s control to keep her face neutral when she helped her staff lift the unconscious human to the table where she would be revived. 

It was Jackie.

* * * *

The look in Karen’s eyes was alarming when Martin entered his quarters at the end of his shift. Sensing her urgency, he went over to her and pushed her up against the wall, pinning her arms by her sides so he could gauge her muscle tension while he nuzzled her neck. He was careful to position himself so she could murmur in his ear, out of sight of the cameras.

Kim spoke quickly, while responding appropriately to his advances. “Julie’s sister Jackie is in the conversion chamber as we speak. Diana’s determined to break her. I’ve never seen her so angry. I don’t think she knows it’s Julie’s sister. She’s just mad that Julie escaped and is taking it out on the first victim who came along. During one conversion session she skipped from mode two to four. You know as well as I do the damage that can inflict. I don’t expect you to do anything, but you said you wanted to know. She’s my best friend.”

He sensed she was at the limits of her control, and he drew her away from the wall and guided her to the bed. Under the guise of other activities, maybe they could come up with a plan.

* * * *

 “Kim, of course I’ll do it,” Philip assured her several evenings later. “Shh. It’s okay,” he soothed her as she cried into his shoulder. She was o