THAT FALL
7 - IN THE GLOW OF THE NIGHT

During the drive to Reynold’s alleged location, Andre castigated himself for being unable to convince Wanda to support his plan. When detailing his plan, he had avoided Wanda’s big doe eyes boring into the back of his head. Dave would collect Reynolds and would permit Oren and Andre to accompany him. Wanda would remain at Longwood with the patients. No, they would not report the lost patient to PRGH. Or to the police. Andre did not want to advertise the situation. Yes, Josey, we know you are outside the door listening. No, Oren could not remain at Longwood. Reynolds is a large man and Andre would need Oren and Dave to subdue him. Dave said it would not be necessary. Yes, Andre conceded, subduing Reynolds was unlikely considering the man glowed and floated out of restraints. However, Longwood had Angie Krigare which was enough to encourage Reynolds’ compliance. Dave continued to insist Reynolds would return on his own.

Lindsey raised her hand and said, “Hand to God, the bastard just willed his restraints to unbolt. He was glowing like a light bulb, all gold and shiny–”

“You all sound crazy as fuck,” Wanda said, adding with a sneer, “hand to God. Have you seen the news? There are spaceships all over the planet. There’s one over our town, Andre! The governor has issued a state of emergency and the president has activated the military. You’re not even supposed to be on the road. What if you don’t return?” Wanda asked, her voice quavering. “What then?”

Andre said, “Then, and only then, you disclose to PRGH that we are tracking Reynolds and haven’t returned yet.”

Wanda stormed out of Andre’s office and into her own, calling out, “You all need Hal-Pro.” She began slamming files after slamming the door.

“I still want to go with you,” Jack stated, seizing Andre’s attention from the raging fiancé.

“No,” Andre said, “I need you here.” He noted Jack’s pout and offered, “You’re right, Jack. The Reynolds-Krigare thing and the spaceships are connected. And, you seem to understand more of this than anyone here.”

“Which is why I should go.”

Andre placed a hand on the older man’s shoulder. He said, “That’s why you shouldn’t go. I need someone here to report what we’ve seen. To make sense of it all to… to whoever might inquire.” Wanda would only report psychosis in Krigare, a malfunctioning CT scan, and a poorly restrained patient who knocked out a first-floor window. Wanda had not seen what Andre and the others had seen and she insisted they were all suffering from a virus and hallucinations. The hour he spent trying to convince her was futile.

“As if they’ll believe me,” Jack grumbled.

They will now. The ships had uncloaked, and the planet was on what the news reported as high alert. Disc and cigar-shaped ships, like the one outside Andre’s office window, appeared above cities and little towns. They loomed, lights blinking, hovering in a threatening silence. Perhaps, the pattern was a shock and awe effort, but the widespread alien presence, even in unpopulated regions, demonstrated the intention to annihilate every living thing. As they drove to the location Dave insisted aligned with the coordinates in the book, the car lights snaking in both directions along the highway proved the intent to cause panic was effective. Andre wondered where all these people were going. Nowhere was safe. Car after car passed, filled with furniture, suitcases, coolers and frightened future patients. At least this crisis meant job security, Andre considered, trying to laugh.

His earlier attempt at humor as he left Wanda was just as distasteful. “At least we’re getting Oren some overtime.”

“I’m firmly against this… this madness.”

“You didn’t see what we did, Wan. And with the feds coming–”

“Let them replace him! Damn it, Andre. You’re so… so fucking stubborn.”

“—we have to bring Reynolds back.” Andre could tell she was more angry than afraid. “I’ll be with Oren and Dave,” he offered.

“Dave? The one claiming to be the son of the escapee and the woman who can’t have water? Don’t you see we are all suffering from some virus? Everyone’s experiencing delusions. Krigare and Reynolds must have been contagious. We’re all… all sick.”

“I’ll get Reynolds back. And we still have Krigare.”

“Until she blows me up,” Wanda said, with no attempt to disguise her sarcasm.

“Just stay out of her room. She’s got enough sedation for at least four to six hours. The others on three are out for the night. And Jack can help–”

“The delusional court-committed man with the limp?”

“—because he predicted this invasion over a decade ago.”

Wanda smirked. She said, “We don’t know what all these ships are, Andre. Maybe we’re all suffering from some viral, chemical warfare. Delusions, Andre.”

In her doubting-Thomas manner, Wanda refused to believe until it burned her. A true skeptic. He said, “Keep Jack busy with the patients on the first floor. Keep them away from the television. Especially Brian.”

“Bergstrom’s watching the news in reception.”

“Well, stop her. It’s light’s out.”

“It’s only eight o’clock! And you know Bergstrom doesn’t sleep.”

Andre sighed. “Then knock her out with a sedative. Keep everyone calm and sedated.”

“And what do I do with Josey? She’s impossible.”

Andre appreciated Wanda’s attempt at manipulating him to stay. He said, “I have to do this.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he paused, considering. This situation was far more significant than an escaped patient, federal agents and a report to the Director. He said, “Because I have to.”

“And what if Reynolds returns? What if this whole meeting thing’s a guise? Maybe they are planning to confuse us so he can return? What do I do then? You are relying on the rantings of a woman having a psychotic episode and a delusional who insists the book he gave Reynolds is full of coordinates. Not that I can even imagine how that was possible.”

Andre knew how it was possible: Jack had a pass card. He had had it for years, Andre guessed. And, because Andre found Jack’s snooping informative over the past few months, Andre allowed the breach.

“Hold down the fort,” Andre said casually as he opened the staff entrance door and passed into the October night. Why was he doing this? He was avoiding additional controversy for Longwood by collecting Reynolds for federal officers. But he admitted to himself that his reasons were much more selfish. This might be his one chance to do something important and to escape his career death sentence. And Wanda had not seen what Andre had. To her, a patient escaped through a window.

It was almost midnight when they arrived at the broken-down dive just outside of town. Cars jammed the gravel parking lot of the clapboard shack, with its blacked-out windows and peeling paint. With nothing to do about the looming ships, aliens, or impending doom, drinking made more sense than fleeing across country to more of the same threat.

Dave parked, pulled the keys from the ignition and jumped out of the car with the determination of misguided youth. “Just give me a minute with him. He intends to come back.”

Andre was unsure what would result from their field trip. He tried to avoid looking up at the massive, saucer-shaped craft in the sky. He asked Dave, “You sure this is the place?”

“Do you see the sign?” Dave asked, pointing towards the establishment doorway.

In the worn paint on the splintering and grayed wood, Andre read: Stage One. He pulled his coat closer to his body against a gust of wind. Oren was not wearing a coat. Andre wished he was as tough. He asked, “And this is the location? The coordinates?”

Dave ignored him and swung the bar entrance door so hard it cracked against the outside wall. Andre followed, starting to scan the bar for a big blond man in grey, hospital sweats. Apparently, being a big blond in sweats was popular for the locals. Andre began to check faces.

Oren moved next to Andre and whispered, “After this, I’m resigning.”

“No, you’re not.” Andre continued to scan face after face which gathered two-deep around the center bar. Two tops held six people. Inebriated bodies crowded booths along the walls. Andre saw these locals gripping at a life they believed was ending. When raised voices and shoves broke out at the back corner of the bar, Andre reconsidered his diagnosis. This was just the norm for these folks. The big screen televisions, muted, displayed continuous news coverage while the sound system blasted country music.

Dave moved through the crowd, pausing every so often to tilt his head one way or the other, to peer around a shoulder or back. He leaned past two bar flies and gestured to the bartender, calling over the noise, “You see a big, blond guy come in? Real big.” Dave raised his hand to indicate height.

The bartender drew another stein of beer from the tap and yelled, “Do I look like a security camera?”

Andre tapped Dave on the shoulder and said, “Let’s go back. This was a crazy idea.”

“But accurate.” The voice from the shadows became Reynolds as he emerged out of the crowd. He wore jeans and a heavy wool sweater. Another man, wearing an eye patch and leg cast, flanked Reynolds. Neither smiled.

Oren bolted forward and said, “That’s the state police officer that delivered him last night.”

Dave grabbed Oren’s arm and pulled him back, “Yes, it is.”

Reynolds said, calmly, “Gentlemen, aggression is unwise. And unnecessary.” He faced Dave. “I see you read my little map. I just did not expect them to show up. Just you.”

“Your wife told us it was coordinates,” Oren slipped.

Reynolds’ smile faded. “Do not mess around with her right now–she is still waking up, so to speak.”

“Perhaps you can kindly let us escort you back to Longwood?” Andre’s question was less threatening than what he wanted to say: Get your ass in the car.

“No,” Reynolds said, “we will escort you.”

Dave nodded at Reynold’s large companion, “Yonk.”

“Navin,” the bearded man said.

“How’s the leg?”

“Broken,” the man said, gesturing to the heavy cast. “Vila did not make it.”

Navin winced. “It was a foolish assignment.”

Reynolds said, “Enough. I am walking to the parking lot. You will need to come that direction. It is well lit,” he held his hands high, adding, “and I am unarmed.”

Dave shook his head. “Like hell. They don’t know your bullshit. You need to be gentle, here.”

Reynolds smiled, slightly. He said, “I am too tired for that conversation, son. We really need to move to the side of the building.”

“And what do you need him for?” Oren asked, gesturing to Reynold’s friend.

“I do not need Katro,” Reynolds said. “He needs me.”

“Well, that makes sense,” Oren quipped. “What are we doing here?”

“Going back to Longwood,” Dave answered.

“Yes, as I said,” Reynolds turned with his friend and the two moved through the crowd toward the door. Dave followed, gesturing to Oren and Andre.

Once outside and away from the noise, Andre asked, “Perhaps you can explain how you got out of the window, Mister Reynolds.”

Reynolds continued to march towards the parking area. “No time. We are already two days past schedule. Not completely due to Navin’s incompetence.”

Dave quipped, “It’s your fault she is here at all.”

They gathered in the field beyond the gravel, and walked over the fallen, crisp autumn leaves, like buddies parting for after a jolly night. From the parking lot, a reedy woman approached. Andre assumed her oddly colored skin was an illusion in the parking lot lighting. Considering the woman seemed frail, they would at least have a fighting chance if it turned physical. If Reynolds began to glow… he was not so sure.

The woman held a small, black cat. She tipped her chin and said, “Navin.”

“Castania,” Dave said. He positioned himself to Andre’s right and put his hands on his hips. He and Reynolds had close coloring and could be father and son, although Andre sensed little affection. Both seemed tense and angry.

Reynolds said, “We need to leave now. Do you have adequate transport?”

Dave chuckled. He said, “More than adequate. You,” he pointed at Reynolds, “come with us.”

But before they agreed, the sonic boom jarred them off their feet. Oren and Andre dropped to the ground. Dave, Reynolds and his associates stood still, looking skywards as the first bolt of silver-blue lightning struck the front of the bar, exploding the façade and setting the roof on fire. Patrons poured out and ran across the parking lot. Another sonic boom. Silver bolts erupted across the sky as another bolt struck the building.

Andre pulled himself to his feet, trying to determine where a bolt would not strike. Reynolds pushed them forward and covered Dave’s body, shielding him. Oren struggled to rise and stumbled behind Reynolds. As they reached the woods, another bolt hit the neighboring gas station, exploding the gas tanks and sending shrapnel across the road. Andre heard cars skidding, glass breaking and shrapnel raining over them. The air, thick with gasoline and burning wood, caused his eyes and throat to burn with each inhale. He covered his mouth with his arm as another explosion lit the western sky. Then another brightened the east. Every building seemed to be alight. Bolts of the lightning rained down steadily, lighting spots in the distance, closer, again in the distance. Another bolt hit the bar. Patrons were screaming and rushing to their cars. Two cars attempting to leave from opposite sides of the lot collided head-on, swerved away from each other and skidded onto the highway.

As the Longwood group, with Reynolds’ friends, reached the woods, Reynolds shoved Dave to the ground. As he raised his arms skyward, a golden light shined around him, encasing them all in a dome which dampened the sound of the explosions and panic around them. The gasoline smell was gone. Even the October breeze disappeared.

Dave stood and raised his arms. A silver, green light emitted from his skin and merged with the golden light. The dome deepened to a light green. Dave looked at Reynolds and said, “I’ve got it.”

In the silent bubble, Reynolds bent and grabbed Andre’s arm. He said, “Doctor, you are a good man. Look at me. Do you think I am crazy?”

Andre did not pull away. He stared at the pulsing light dome over them. Reynolds’ touch was strong and, somehow, encouraging and safe. Andre stammered, “I… I don’t know…” while thinking perhaps I’m crazy.

“You want to have a child–and Wanda has some damage. Renya… Angie wants to fix that.”

The doctor’s mind reeled. The bolts continued to strike close and in the distance. He asked, “What are you talking about?”

“A deal. A promise.” Reynolds gestured to the bar. “I help you and you don’t interfere because,” Reynolds stated without hesitation, “this shit is hitting the rotary oscillator and Angie needs to be out of there.”

Time slowed. The doctor looked at Oren crouching on the cold ground beneath the light green dome. With terror in his eyes and his lips moving in silent prayer, Oren gripped the cross around his neck. Reynold’s female associate and the big, hairy guy, flanked Dave, watching the light show beyond the glowing dome as if it was Fourth of July fireworks. Andre tried to think, as several more bolts of lightning struck the woods beyond the parking lot, the skyline, the gas station. He found his voice, “I can’t… I can’t release her. The federal agents. They’re coming–”

“I know,” Reynolds said. “I have a plan.”

The light dome protected them as they returned to Dave’s car. Reynolds companions disappeared. Oren quietly mumbled prayer after prayer as they took the highway north. Over the six miles to Longwood, Andre saw building after building burning, and was relieved to replace Longwood unscathed.

Wanda rushed to Andre as he pulled back the plastic flaps and entered reception. She asked, “You… you’re all right?”

Andre nodded. “Mission accomplished.”

“I see.” Wanda watched Dave and Reynolds slip through the vestibule plastic.

Josey rushed forward but froze at the sight of Reynold’s companions. In the light, Andre confirmed the female associate, Castania, had purple skin, bulging silver eyes and a bob of sea-foam green hair. She wore a close-fitting brown jacket with matching slacks, a bluish, iridescent blouse and no jewelry. The black cat she held licked her cheek without altering her makeup. Andre concluded removing theatre makeup required more than cat spit. And what condition caused bulging eyes? Graves disease? Proptosis? Castania’s unusually long and thin fingers, tipped with large pads, wound through the cat’s fur.

Reynolds’ other associate was a heavy young man with a Neanderthal overhanging brow. Tangled walnut brown hair, a full beard, and hairy hands indicated he suffered from hypertrichosis or was a werewolf. His unpatched eye was piercing and black. He wore no coat over thick black pants and a thin, sleeveless shirt. Tattoos covered his arms with unrecognizable symbols, hard to distinguish under the layer of hair. Reynolds and Dave had called him Katro and Andre wondered whether that was his last name or first name. Andre noted the two associates called Reynolds Sir. He shook himself out of his reverie when he realized Reynolds was speaking.

“Gather the remaining of your establishment. We need to get some things straight.”

Andre winced at the mutiny. He glanced around the room. Oren, praying. Lindsey, too shocked to use her camera phone cradled on her lap. Wanda, behind him, smitten with the frog-woman. Jack and Josey peeking from the hallway. “The staff is here,” Andre said.

Reynolds, reminding Andre of his active-duty commander, repeated, “Gather your patients.”

“I’m not waking my elderly Alzheimer’s patient for your amusement. Or dragging a sixteen-year-old Autistic boy out of his bed.” Andre noticed that Jack stood beside him now, somehow helping Andre to feel normal. Josey’s presence, however, annoyed him. Although he had had little contact with the girl, Andre had reviewed her records and seen her completing puzzle after puzzle in the solarium. The girl was highly intelligent, crafty and unreliable. Andre threw his hands in the air. “Every arguably competent person is here. Except Missus Bergstrom.”

“Get her.”

“She’s a seventy-two-year-old woman, Reynolds.”

“Get her.”

“No need,” Eleanor Bergstrom appeared at the end of the hallway, adjusting her pooled necklaces under her thick, yellow robe. “And I agree with General Dentri. We should get this done.”

Wanda frowned, asking, “Who?”

“General Onnage Dentri. Commander of the 968 regiment,” Eleanor lowered herself into the nearest waiting area chair. She tugged at her robe. “That’s his son. Navin.” She seemed much less frail than the patient Andre knew. “I am just Eleanor Bergstrom, an earth woman who has been helping them not screw up any more than they already have.”

“Watch your tongue, meat puppet,” Reynolds growled.

“You let them send that pulse. I told you weeks ago they were planning to block communications. And now, look at this mess.” Bergstrom spread her hands wide, raising her thumb. “Damn ring exploded and cut me.”

“We could not confirm your intelligence,” Dave said.

“So stubborn. I told you. All you had to do was locate their transmitter. But you were too busy playing with another human girl–”

“Silence, mortal,” Dave snapped.

“—I’ll do no such thing! Your mother promised me. I serve her. Not you.” Bergstrom crossed her arms over her chest. “And now she’s lost and they’re coming.”

Reynolds said, “She is not lost.”

Oren had not said a thing in over an hour. His lips, however, continued to move in silent prayer as he grasped that cross around his neck. The destabilization of such a strong and reliable coworker intensified Andre’s discomfort. And Oren’s faith left faithless Andre exposed. He wished he had something to believe. He hoped he was hallucinating and was home, in bed, with Wanda.

The silver-blue lightning continued to strike beyond the entrance’s plastic sheeting. The most intense lightning storms Andre had ever seen were in Oklahoma. That natural lightning was random. The lightning in the distance reminded him of the air strikes he had witnessed in Afghanistan. Perhaps he was just experiencing cognitive bias: Seeing what he expected to see considering the story being written by all these diagnosed people? Jack told him the booms were alien invasions. Reynolds and Krigare were sharing some delusion after hearing the booms. The hoaxes of the ships over Paris and Egypt, adding to the hysteria. Of course, he would see directed lightning versus random lightning. He had also seen the big guy standing across from him glow gold and create a gold dome over them which protected them from several lightning bolts. And the big guy had levitating off his restraints and opening securely bolted doors.

Reynolds said, “I suppose you all have questions.”

“I don’t,” Bergstrom said.

“I do,” Jack said, both calm and intrigued, “but I’m sure most of my questions can wait until after the attack is over.”

“I would appreciate that.” Reynolds said, placing his hands on his tree-trunk thighs.

Andre regarded his own legs which were half as wide. He fought the gasp he wanted to take and found his voice, saying, “I don’t think any of this is… comfortable for my staff. I thought you were coming back to await the feds. What we have is an escaped patient, yet undiagnosed, holding us hostage. With his two well-costumed friends. And I don’t know what Dave is doing.”

“Doctor Antoine,” Reynolds said calmly, “as a soldier, you have seen an air strike. You know what you just saw.” Reynolds paused, glancing at the surrounding faces. He said, “We will all be going to visit the third floor.”

Andre had visions of them all being held captive in one of the third-floor rooms. He said, “If it’s the federal agents concerning you, I’m sure we can make excuses.” Wanda squeezed his arm and a strange calm overtook him. “We can explain your escape. I request you take your cohorts and yourself and leave my facility.”

Reynolds regarded Andre with a mixture of what Andre perceived as pity and frustration. “I can just go up to her room anytime I want. I am attempting to be respectful here.”

“You’re taking advantage of a situation, Mister Reynolds. Using some theatrical show to get us to comply–”

“Theatrics?” Reynolds tightened his hands into fists. “I do not have time for a show for you, Doctor Antoine. I need to see my wife immediately. I can do so at any time. I called this little meeting so you and your friends would not be so frightened. And since my wife is sore at me–”

“She hates you,” Dave offered.

“—and my wife would want me to do what I intend with gentility and politeness, I am trying to make amends to her by behaving as she would want me to behave. But gentility and politeness are two characteristics I do not naturally possess.”

Dave chuckled. “That’s an understatement.”

“Navin, I do not want to send you home, but you are pushing me too far,” Reynolds’ said as his blue eyes appeared red and Dave lowered his gaze.

Andre looked around the room, waiting for any of his staff to support his suggestion that Reynolds leave. Even Wanda was silent. Andre blurted, “I can’t let you interfere with another patient. I need some proof.”

“I do not have time for this. Or your inadequate medical treatments. We will not amuse you with parlor tricks while my family is in danger,” Reynolds said, his voice shaking the remaining entrance windows and the walls, as if a hurricane-force wind had passed through the room. His now red eyes seem to glow from inside. A gold aura began to form around his frame.

Lindsey, her phone held weakly in her hands, murmured, “My family and friends are texting and need me. I want to leave.”

“You will stay put,” Dave said, pointing at her. “No one leaves.”

Wanda pulled her face away from Andre’s shoulder and stared at Reynolds. Andre could not even look at Oren but guessed what he was doing. Andre relented, asking, “What can you tell us so I can at least satisfy my duty protecting my patients and my staff?”

Reynolds replied, begrudgingly, “Doctor Giddies has been correct: The war is between alien occupants and their enemy. Earthlings are inconsequential causalities. My people are here to stop all of it. However, the vital piece for success is the being you know as Angie. So, I need to get to her and wake her to prepare for the agents tomorrow.” He marched toward the stairwell with Dave and his two associates following robotically.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Andre called to him,

“Wherever I want.” Reynolds disappeared into the stairwell, calling back, “You are welcome to join me, Doctor.”

Andre turned to follow, but Wanda stopped him, whispering, “What the hell are you doing? You’re letting a patient run the facility.”

Andre did not respond and lead the remaining group to the stairs. His sense of impending doom returned as he watched Reynolds charge down the third-floor hallway raising his hand before him. Krigare’s room door swung open, banging against the wall. The entourage followed Reynolds into Krigare’s room. Jack yammered that he wished he had his notebook and a pen. He would not have to wait another seven and a half years to get out of this place, that was for sure. Eleanor was nodding appreciatively, noting that she appreciated his paper and attempts to educate Earth. Josey was the only one to stay outside the room, watching from the safety of the hallway.

Krigare seemed unconscious and Andre could hear the quiet beep of the monitor. He wanted to examine her but could not take his eyes from Reynolds, who directed Castania to attend Krigare. The amethyst frog woman placed the cat onto Krigare’s stomach, and the cat purred loudly, rubbing its face against Krigare’s chin. It spun several times, kneading the blankets and finally settling on Krigare’s chest.

Frog woman placed her fingers on Krigare’s forehead. She said, “Other than the capture, she seems fine.”

Reynolds frowned. “Seems, Castania?”

Castania ignored Reynolds and continued her purported examination. “Pulse fine.”

Wanda snapped, “Her pulse has been twenty to thirty beats per minute.”

Castania said, “You are right. It’s a little fast.”

Andre frowned. “Fast? She might as well be dead.”

In a controlled fury and growling, Reynolds advanced on the doctor. Andre was sure his eyes were glowing a blood red.

Katro stood between Reynolds and Andre, holding his hairy hand in a stop signal and stating, “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Wouldn’t say what?” Andre backed away from Katro.

Jack laughed and Reynolds returned his attention to his purported wife.

Castania pressed her fingers on the unconscious woman’s legs, then examined the bottoms of her feet. “She’s phasing. I will need the frishin to get readings for Doctor Tirifini. And she needs water.”

Reynolds tipped his chin to Katro who rushed from the room and disappeared into the hallway.

Jack could not hold his curiosity any longer, asking, “What’s a frishin?”

Castania mumbled, “Like a monitor. But it reads the electromagnetic spectrum. Gamma waves and quantum energy, specifically. It can read all her vital signs and record injuries. It also is like a brain scan. And I can upload the data to our medical staff.”

“Oh.” Jack got closer. “So, you’re a doctor?”

Castania raised her eyes to him. “No. I am… ah, her secretary.”

Reynolds turned to Jack and said, “Doctor Giddies. I realize this is validating for you, but I need to focus on getting her awake and back to work. Please do not interfere.”

Jack nodded. “Yes, yes. I was just hoping we could chat.”

Katro entered the room with a large pink plastic pitcher and a cup. He poured a cup of water as he walked and passed the cup to Castania.

Wanda snapped, “We were told she was not to have water!”

“By whom?” Reynolds asked, his voice like a Tuvan throat singer, as if he was speaking and growling at the same time.

“The agents. They told us no water. And the last time she had water she blew up a doctor!”

Reynolds smiled. “She did not mean it, I am sure.”

“I bet she did,” Dave retorted. “I met that asshole, Lansing. If she had not done it, I was planning on it.”

“Quiet, boy.” Reynolds sneered.

“She’s not to have water.” Andre blocked Castania from the bedside.

Reynolds raised his hand and Andre inexplicably stumbled backwards into the mirrored wall. Andre felt his face ashen and his eyes widen with embarrassment and indignation.

“As I said, Doctor, I will go anywhere I want and do anything I want.”

Castania raised Krigare’s head to help her drink. On the third cup, the unconscious woman began to moan.

Reynolds asked, “Who told you she could not have water? Men who you believe are from your government? Are you so sure you have put your faith in the right people?” Reynolds’ deep voice was becoming more and more terse and hard, the undercurrent growl constant now. “Water keeps that body alive. Keeps her aware. That is why they do not want her to have water.”

Jack said, “Doctor Antoine is just concerned for all of us.”

“She is not dangerous to any of you. I am here.” Reynolds bent close to her face, reaching for her hand and whispering, “I am here.” Her restraints loosened and floated to the floor. She stretched.

Katro joined Andre at the far wall, offering a weak smile. He said, “It will be fine. I promise.” He frowned, his large brow collapsing over his dark eyes. “Is not that what you say when you mean what you say. You say: I promise?”

Jack nodded, his voice quavering. “Yes. A promise is not to be broken.”

Katro whispered, “They need her awake so she can–”

“Katro!” Reynolds’ voice filled the room, shaking the glass observation wall and doors and rattling the monitor and IV pole. The observation glass began to split along the side.

Katro examined what looked like a cell phone and mumbled, “Sir, should I check the perimeter? I will… I will get the frishin, too.” Reynolds waved his hand and Katro disappeared into the hall.

“What’s the big mystery?” Jack asked. “What does it matter what we know and don’t know? They will eliminate this planet, anyway.”

“Not this time if we can help it.” Reynolds was deadly serious.

“This time?” Jack asked.

“I hate that cat.” Reynolds regarded the cat with a sneer.

Lindsey approached the bedside and said, “Angie was really worried about him. I promised I would get him for her. I guess you don’t need me to do that. His name is Sam.” The cat hissed when she reached to pet it. Lindsey retracted her hand. She said, “Hey, that’s your name! Sam!”

“It is not my name, not-a-doctor, Lindsey Dempsey.”

Andre, who was a doctor, decided he could be as brave as some little intern. He moved towards them leaving the safety of his wall and asked, “Then what is your name, Monsieur Reynolds? Hmmmm? Or is it Dentri? Which is it?”

Reynolds ignored Andre and motioned to Castania to move away. She complied and Lindsey followed her lead. Lindsey attempted to take her phone from her pocket, but Castania shook her head sternly.

Reynolds leaned towards Krigare. He whispered, “I am sorry…”

Sorry? Why was he sorry? Andre thought he must have misheard. Maybe Reynolds had done something to have them pursued by the government? Too many mysteries. Andre wanted answers but his mind reeled inside what was becoming terror.

Katro returned and handed Castania what appeared to be a long cell phone. He said, “The attack has subsided, sir.”

Castania ran the cell phone-thing over Krigare’s body. Little lights blinked on the object’s screen and it beeped several times. She waved the object in the air and then put it into her jacket pocket.

“Oh, but you can use your cell phone,” Lindsey said.

Reynolds did not respond to Katro or comment on Castania’s actions. He continued to whisper to the unconscious woman, his breath moving strands of the loose hair across her brow. Andre blinked several times as it seemed a bright light, appearing to come from inside of Reynolds, began to surround Krigare. Perhaps Wanda would believe him now? Wanda came to his side and wrapped her hands around his left arm. He pulled her towards him and the two glued themselves to the wall, eyes wide, barely breathing.

Lindsey joined them placing her hands flat against the wall whispering, “He’s doing it again…” She turned and lifted her camera phone to capture the scene. The phone flew out of her hand and across the room. “Hey!” she yelled.

“Do not test me,” Reynolds said, not taking his eyes from Krigare as the light surrounded them. But then Krigare glowed, too, emitting a silver-pink light which melted with his gold one. Andre watched as they both began to change in flashes: First aging to ancient, then young as babies, then teenagers, fading through the phases of life like the switching of a channel. The light filled the room and expanded, seemingly through the walls.

The changing stopped leaving only the melding lights. Reynolds spoke, softly, “I told you all. Trust me.” Her light intensified. “She knows I am here. Not the pretense of Angie. The real one inside. She knows.” He leaned over, pushing aside a loose curl from her cheek, and placed his fingertips on the back of her neck. He kissed her lips, gently. The lights mixed and burst, filling the room, not hurtful to the eyes and emitting no heat, but soothing and beautiful. He could hear Oren saying, “So it was, so it was…” Andre’s fear melted, replaced by the warmth when his heart filled for a cured healthy patient, memories of his parents, and his love for Wanda.

Then, surprising to everyone but Andre, Wanda set her jaw, and moved away from the wall. Angered and plainly unnerved, she said, “Okay, reunion over. Everyone stop glowing. The agents will be here in less than five hours.”