“You think they’re in the government?”
“And the military,” Carl says quickly.
Ellis leans back this time, sighing as he does so. “I have to tell you, Carl — and this is just between you and me — but I’ve been getting a sneaking suspicion lately that Aaron isn’t exactly… on our side.”
“You’ve been getting that too, eh?”
“Wait, you’ve…”
Ellis trails-off as Carl nods. “First noticed it on some reports I got about missions he did in South America.”
“Mark says that last night he got a bit jumpy when questioned about Johnny, Andy and Turn’s deaths.”
Carl frowns to that. “It’s probably nothing. Who really troubles me, though, is Donlon.”
“Colonel Roger Donlon?” Ellis says, and a little too loudly in his surprise. He quiets down. “He’s about as strait-arrow as they come.”
“Not if what I’m reading in the Herres report is true,” Carl says as he takes a bit of his green beans. “From what we’re getting off the telescopic reading analyzers… well, I thing he might be working with the Grays.”
“Carl, that’s absurd,” Ellis says, leaning in to look in his friend’s eyes. “You got some proof on this?”
“It’s all in the reports, which I’ll show you right after we finish up here. Suffice it to say, he’s been—”
“Sir.”
Both men turn about to see a young soldier standing there and looking at Ellis.
“Sir,” the soldier continues, “General Herres at Kirtland’s on the phone for you.”
Ellis nods and turns back to Carl. “Better not keep the old man waiting.”
“What, you’re not gonna finish that?” Carl says, glancing from Ellis to the tray and back again.
“Be my guest,” Ellis says with a scoff, and begins to follow the soldier out of the mess hall.
7 — Reunion
Mark keeps his arm around Heather’s shoulders and that concerned look on his face as the two walk away from the door to the examination room and down the hallway. They hadn’t gone more than a dozen feet when Mark stops, looks over his shoulder, then pushes Heather up against the wall. He looks into her eyes deeply for a moment, then dives in for a kiss. It’s returned, with vigor.
“Oh, Mark,” Heather says when they’re done, “I was worried I’d never see you again!”
“Then why’d you volunteer to—”
“I’m not talking about that,” Heather replies quickly, cutting off Mark’s words, “I’m talking about you being off-world so long, and then all those years you spent with the 177th?” She trails-off and looks away, shaking her head and appearing on the verge of tears. Finally she looks back. “Mark, what if something had happened, what if—”
“But it didn’t, and it won’t,” Mark says, pulling her in for a hug.
“It’s just that…”
Heather trails-off as she hears the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. She and Mark take a step back from one another, smooth down their clothes, and try to look as though nothing much is happening. A moment later Eddie and Stan appear, both talking about the alien fighter craft that Eddie pilfered from Dulce. As they near the two they nod, never breaking their conversation, and then vanish down the hallway as it turns a corner past that set of exam rooms.
“Maybe there’s somewhere else we can talk,” Heather says once they’re gone.
Mark nods. “This way.”
Thirty minutes later the two of them are lying in Mark’s bed, both sweaty from their bout of lovemaking. Heather rolls over on her side and looks at Mark staring up at the ceiling of the small, hotel-room-like officer’s quarters.
“What was it like?” she asks.
“What was what like?”
“Time travel… going into the future… all of it.”
Mark sighs. “Not as glamorous as you might think. For one, it’s hell on the body and the mind. The 177th might have zapped me into the future for 10 years and then zapped me right back to the moment I left, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t aged those 10 years both in body and mind.”
“And spirit?” Heather asks, looking over at him.
Mark cocks his head to one side in a sort of shrug. “I suppose so. After what I’ve seen and done… well, I suppose so.”
Heather rolls over onto her stomach, the better to stare into Mark’s face. “And what did you see… and are they still fighting in 2036?”
Mark nods. “Still fighting in 2036 and probably will be for years.” He scoffs. “We keep fucking it up so much that we have to keep going back in and redoing it, over and over.”
“And the Grays aren’t getting wise to that?”
“Oh, they are… and that’s probably why we keep losing.” He sighs again. “I can’t even begin to tell you how many men we’ve lost, good men too, the kind that don’t come around more than once a century.”
“How far back are you having to go to find them?”
Mark chuckles. “Commander Titor had just pulled six of ‘em out of the Spanish-American War when I left. My God, Heather, they’re from 1898… damn-near one hundred years ago!”
“Can they even use our modern weapons… not to mention the futuristic stuff?”
“Titor’s solved that with the computer-mind uploads. Most become masters of both 20th-century and 21st-century armaments real quick… and probably know more than most of the men on this base here.”
Heather sighs and rolls back over to look up at the ceiling. “Just seems strange is all… constantly fighting in the same year, having to recruit further and further back in time… when will it all just end?”
“It has to some day,” Mark says, rolling over onto his side now to look at her. “Now, why don’t we talk about you for awhile? Tell me… what was it like down there?”
“Oh God,” Heather says, rolling her eyes, “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“How about with your abduction? You know I was against that right from the get-go.”
Heather scoffs. “Then you shouldn’t spend so much time off-world or in different times — you’d be here instead, able to tell me what to do.”
“Heather, I didn’t mean it like that, I—”
“What’s there to say anyways?” Heather says quickly, cutting off his words. “We went with the planned abduction, going with a group of women. It went well, we were taken onto a large ship of some sort — perhaps a mothership — and then taken to Dulce. It happened fast, getting put down on the lower levels, and after that they started picking us off one by one, either impregnating us, tinkering with our DNA, or cutting us up and using us as food.”
“Even the women?”
“Even the women,” Heather confirms. “It’s not like it was just a couple years ago, Mark. It’s like the Grays don’t have as much use for the women as they once did. Before they’d never allow one to be used for food, but now, well…”
“They’re moving on to the next phase of their plan,” Mark says.
“And we need to be moving on to ours,” Heather replies, and she rolls over and off the bed. Mark stares at her beautiful and naked body for a moment before she begins picking up her clothes and putting them back on.
“And what might that be?” Mark says as he too rolls off the bed and begins retrieving his clothes. Watching Heather there in the act of dressing, however, makes him wonder why he’s doing so.