Invasion

7

8:15 P.M.

“What I keep asking myself is why we never come down here,” Beau said. “This is beautiful.” He, Cassy, and Pitt were strolling along the pedestrian mall in the city center eating ice cream after a dinner of pasta and white wine.

Five years previously the downtown had looked like a ghost town, with most of the people and restaurants having fled out to suburbia. But like a lot of other American cities, there’d been a reawakening. A few tasteful renovations had started a self-fulfilling prophecy. Now the entire downtown was a feast for the eyes as well as the palate. Crowds milled about, enjoying the spectacle.

“You guys really skipped school today?” Pitt questioned. He was impressed and incredulous.

“Why not,” Beau said. “We went to the planetarium, the natural history museum, the art museum, and the zoo. We learned a lot, more than if we’d gone to class.”

“That’s an interesting rationalization,” Pitt said. “I hope you get a bunch of questions about the zoo on your next exams.”

“Ah, you’re just jealous,” Beau said, cuffing the top of Pitt’s head.

“Maybe so,” Pitt admitted. He stepped out of Beau’s reach. “I put in thirty hours in the ER since yesterday morning.”

“Thirty hours?” Cassy questioned. “Really?”

“Honest,” Pitt said. He then told them the story of the room where Beau had spent the afternoon and about spilling the coffee on Dr. Sheila Miller, the woman in charge of the entire emergency department.

Both Beau and Cassy were entranced, especially about the condition of the room and the death of the housekeeper. Beau asked the most questions, but Pitt had few answers. “They’re waiting for the autopsy results,” Pitt added. “Everybody’s hoping then there will be some answers. Right now no one has any idea of what happened.”

“Sounds horrid,” Cassy said, making an expression of disgust. “A hole burned through his hand. Gads, I could never be a doctor. No way.”

“I got a question for you, Beau,” Pitt said after they’d walked a few moments in silence. “How did Cassy manage to talk you into this day of culture?”

“Hey, wait a sec!” Cassy interrupted. “This day wasn’t my idea. It was Beau’s.”

“Get outta here,” Pitt said skeptically. “You expect me to believe that... Mr. Type A who never misses a day of school.”

“Ask him!” Cassy challenged.

Beau just laughed.

Cassy, intent on making her point that she’d not been to blame for the frivolous day and despite the crowded sidewalk, had turned and was walking backward so as to confront Pitt. “Come on, ask him,” she urged.

Suddenly Cassy collided with a pedestrian coming in the opposite direction who wasn’t paying much attention either. Both were mildly jolted but certainly unhurt.

Cassy immediately apologized as did the individual whom she’d hit. But then she did a double take. It was Mr. Partridge, the dour principal of the Anna C. Scott school.

Ed did a similar double take.

“Wait a second,” he said as a smile spread across his face. “I know you. You’re Miss Winthrope, the charming student teacher assigned to Mrs. Edelman.”

Cassy felt her face flush. Instantly she was aware that she’d possibly blundered into a minor catastrophe. But Mr. Partridge was the picture of gentility. “Such a nice surprise,” he was saying. “Here, I’d like you to meet my bride, Clara Partridge.”

Cassy dutifully shook hands with Mr. Partridge’s wife and suppressed a smile. She was well aware of what the students called the woman.

“And here is a new friend of ours,” Mr. Partridge said. He put his arm around his male companion. “I’d like you to meet Michael Schonhoff. He’s one of those dedicated civil servants who labors at our medical examiner’s office.”

Everyone shook hands through their introductions. Beau was particularly interested in Michael Schonhoff, and they fell into their own conversation while Ed Partridge directed his attention to Cassy. “I’ve certainly been getting some good feedback on your student teaching,” he said. “And I was impressed how well you were handling that class yesterday when Mrs. Edelman was delayed.”

Cassy didn’t know how to respond to these unexpected compliments. She also didn’t know how to respond to Mr. Partridge’s blatantly lewd inspection. Several times his eyes traveled up and down her body. After the first traverse she thought she could have been overreacting, but after the third time, she knew his behavior was deliberate.

Eventually the two groups said good-bye and went their separate ways.

“Who the hell is Ed Partridge?” Pitt asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

“He’s the principal of the high school where I’m student teaching,” Cassy said. She shook her head.

“He obviously is impressed with you,” Pitt said.

“Did you catch the way he was looking at me?” Cassy asked.

“How could I miss it?” Pitt said. “I was embarrassed for him, especially with his tub of a wife standing right there. What’d you think, Beau?”

“I didn’t catch it,” Beau said. “I was talking with Michael.”

“He’s never acted like that before,” Cassy said. “In fact he’s usually a conservative sourpuss.”

“Hey, guys, there’s another ice cream place across the street,” Beau said enthusiastically. “I’m going to have another. Anybody else?”

Both Cassy and Pitt shook their heads.

“I’ll be right back,” Beau said. He sprinted across the mall to wait in the ice cream concession line.

“You believe me about this day of playing hooky being Beau’s idea?” Cassy questioned.

“If you say so,” Pitt said. “But I’m sure you can understand my reaction. It is a little out of character.”

“That’s an understatement,” Cassy said.

They watched while Beau flirted with a couple of attractive co-eds. Even from where they were standing they could hear Beau’s characteristic laugh.

“He acts as loose as a goose,” Pitt commented.

“That’s one way to put it,” Cassy said. “We’ve had a ball today, there’s no doubt. But his behavior is starting to make me a little uneasy.”

“How so?” Pitt questioned.

Cassy let out a short, mirthless laugh. “He’s being too nice. I know that sounds crazy and maybe a little cynical, but he’s just not acting normal. He’s not acting like Beau normally acts. Skipping classes is just one thing.”

“What else?” Pitt asked.

“Well, it’s a little personal,” Cassy said.

“Hey, I’m a friend,” Pitt said encouragingly. At the same time his mouth went dry. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear anything too personal. As much as he tried to deny it, his feelings for Cassy weren’t entirely platonic.

“Sexually he’s been different,” Cassy said haltingly. “This morning he... ”

Cassy stopped in midsentence.

“He what?” Pitt asked.

“I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Cassy said. She was abashed. “Let’s just say there’s something different about him.”

“Has it just been today?” Pitt asked.

“Last night and today,” Cassy said. She considered telling about Beau dragging her out naked onto the balcony in the middle of the night to see the meteor shower but changed her mind.

“All of us have days when we just feel more alive,” Pitt said. “You know, when food tastes better and sex... seems better.” He shrugged. Now he was the embarrassed one.

“Maybe,” Cassy said without conviction. “But what I’m wondering is whether his behavior could have something to do with that fleeting flu he had. I’ve never seen him so sick even though he got over it so quickly. Maybe it scared him. You know, like he thought he was going to die or something. Does that sound reasonable?”

Pitt shook his head. “I didn’t think he was that sick.”

“Do you have any other ideas?” Cassy asked.

“To be honest I’m a little too tired to think creatively,” Pitt said.

“If you... ” Cassy began, but she stopped. “Look what Beau’s doing now!”

Pitt glanced at Beau. He had met up again with Ed Partridge, Mrs. Partridge, and their friend Michael. The foursome were deep in conversation.

“What on earth could he be talking with them for?” Cassy asked.

“Well, whatever it is they all seem to be in agreement,” Pitt said. “They’re all nodding their heads.”

Beau looked at the clock on the dashboard of his 4×4. It was two-thirty in the morning. He was with Michael Schonhoff, and they were parked in the loading dock of the medical examiner’s office next to one of the mortuary vans.

“So you think this is the best time?” Beau asked.

“Absolutely,” Michael said. “The cleaning crew will be upstairs by now.” He opened the passenger door and started to get out.

“You don’t need me?” Beau asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Michael said. “Why don’t you wait here. There’ll be less explaining to do if I run into security.”

“What are the chances of running into security?”

“Small,” Michael admitted.

“Then I’m coming,” Beau said. He climbed from the car.

“Suit yourself,” Michael said agreeably.

Together they advanced to the door. Michael used his keys, and within seconds they were inside.

Without a word, Michael waved for Beau to follow him. Somewhere in the distance a radio could be heard. It was tuned to an all-night talk show.

The route led through an antechamber, down a small ramp, and into the body holding room. The walls were lined with refrigerator compartments.

Michael knew precisely which compartment to open. The click of the door mechanism was loud in the silence. The body slid out effortlessly on a stainless steel tray.

Charlie Arnold’s remains were in a clear plastic body bag. His face was ghostly white.

Intimately familiar with the surroundings, Michael produced a gurney. With Beau’s help he got the body onto the gurney and closed the refrigerated compartment.

After a quick check to make sure the anteroom was still vacant, they wheeled the body up the ramp and out the door. It took only a moment to transfer it to the back of the 4×4.

While Beau climbed back into his car, Michael returned the gurney. Soon he was back to the car, and they left.

“That was easy,” Beau said.

“I told you it’d be no problem,” Michael said.

They drove east out into the desert. Leaving the main road, they took a dirt track until they were in uncontested wilderness.

“This looks okay to me,” Beau said.

“I’d say it was perfect,” Michael said.

Beau stopped the car. Together they lifted the body out of the car and carried it a hundred feet into the wilderness. They laid it on a ledge of sandstone. Above them stretched the moonless vault of the night sky with its millions of stars.

“Ready?” Beau questioned.

Michael stepped back a few paces. “Ready,” he said.

Beau pulled out one of the black discs he’d retrieved that morning and put it on top of the body. Almost immediately it began to glow, and the intensity rapidly increased.

“We’d better get back,” Beau said.

They moved about fifty feet away. By now the black disc’s glow had reached the point that a corona was beginning to form, and as it did so Charlie Arnold’s body also began to glow. The red glow of the disc changed to white and the corona expanded to envelop the body as well.

The whooshing sound started and with it a wind that pulled first leaves, then small stones, and finally larger rocks toward the body. The sound became instantly deafening, like the noise of an enormous jet engine. Beau and Michael hung on to each other to keep from being pulled off their feet.

The sound cut off with such suddenness that it caused a shock wave that jolted both men. The black disc, the body, and a number of stones, leaves, sticks, and other debris were gone. The rock where the body had been was hot, its surface twisted into a spiral.

“That should cause quite a stir,” Beau said.

“Indeed,” Michael said. “And keep them busy for a time.”