The screaming was the worst part. Men, women, and children reduced to terrified, helpless animals . . . screaming for help that never came.
I saw families running down the streets, pursued by horror. One man had his legs cut out from under him, just below the knee, and he tried to keep on going on bloody stumps. Until something opened up his head from behind and pulled out his brains in long pink and gray streamers. A woman clung desperately to an open door as something unseen pulled doggedly at one outstretched leg. She howled like a maddened beast as her ribs were pulled out one by one, examined briefly, and then tossed aside into the blood-soaked street. I saw children . . .
I saw a pile of lungs assemble, one by one, next to a pile of hearts, some still feebly beating. A man sat alone, crying bloody tears from empty eye sockets. A woman screamed her mind away over what was left of her daughter. I saw whole families reduced to their component parts by unseen surgical instruments . . . Cold clinical procedures that went on and on until the screaming finally stopped because there was no one left alive to protest.
Everyone in the town of Roswell was dead. Butchered. Just because.
The floating screen disappeared, taking its views of Hell on Earth with it. I was so angry I was shaking inside my armour. My hands clenched and unclenched helplessly. Honey clung to my arm, making small shocked noises. Walker had come forward to stand beside me. His eyes were full of a cold, dangerous rage. I stared at the alien before me. I’d never hated anything so much in all my life.
“Why?” I said finally.
“You wouldn’t understand,” said the alien. “You can’t. You’re only human. It limits you. This is necessary. You claim authority in this place, Drood; you threaten the success of the experiment. Leave. All of you. Remove yourselves from Roswell before we begin in six hours. Tell everyone. First there is a town, then there is a city, then there is a world. We will do more as we learn more. We will remake you and your world, and when we are done you will thank us for it.”
I charged forward, my golden fists studded with heavy spikes, reaching for the alien. It disappeared, gone in a moment, and the corridor returned to normal. No more strange lights, no energies, no distortions of space. I stumbled to a halt and cried out in wordless rage. I spun around and punched the nearest wall with my golden fist, hitting it because I had to hit something or go insane. I hit the wall again and again, the plaster cracking and the brick crumbling. And then I made myself stop, reining in the anger and forcing it down, storing it for later. I armoured down and stood before the wrecked and ruined wall, breathing harshly. Walker and Honey approached me cautiously. Honey touched my face with her hand, wiping away my tears. I hadn’t even realised I was crying.
“We have to warn the local authorities,” said Walker.
“They wouldn’t listen,” I said. My throat hurt, my voice a harsh rasp. I’d been yelling at the alien all the way through its presentation, but I hadn’t realised. “Would you believe something like this, without proof? And even if we could make them believe, what good would it do? I don’t think the aliens would let them leave, and no one here has anything that could defend them against unseen forces and invisible scalpels. No; it’s down to us. We stand between the townspeople and the aliens. We’re all there is.”
“But what about the game?” said Honey. “What about Alexander King’s prize?”
I looked at her, and she met my gaze steadily.
“How can you think about that at a time like this?” said Walker. “After everything we’ve just seen!”
“It’s my job to stay calm and focused and to concentrate on the bigger picture, on what really matters,” said Honey, her voice perfectly reasonable. “What we saw, what the aliens are going to do . . . It’s not what we’re here for. I have a duty not just to the people of one small town, but to all the people. You heard that thing: after Roswell the cities, and then the world. I don’t know of anything that could stop them, and neither do you. But maybe Alexander King does. Maybe there’s something in his hoarded secrets that will do the job.”
“That’s not why you want his secrets,” said Walker. “You want to win the game.”
“We were sent here to solve the old mystery of Roswell, not this new one,” said Honey. “There’s no way King could have known about this. So this . . . is irrelevant.”
“You’re scared,” I said. “Scared of what you saw. You can’t cope with something this big, this important, so you hide behind the rules of a stupid little game that doesn’t matter anymore. We have to stand our ground here, stop the aliens from doing this. There’ll be time for games later.”
“I’m sorry,” said Honey. “I have my orders and my responsibilities. The Independent Agent’s secrets must end up with the right people.”
“And my duty is to ensure that people like you never get their hands on the prize,” said Walker. “You can’t be trusted with it.”
“And you can?” said Honey. “Little dictator of a little world?”
“More than you,” said Walker. He looked at me, as calm and composed as ever. “I’m sorry, Eddie. The game must come first. We can’t be distracted by . . . lesser events, no matter how disturbing.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions here,” I said carefully, holding my anger in check. “Don’t be so quick to assume these aliens aren’t what we’re here for. Why couldn’t these aliens be the answer to the Roswell mystery? The teleport bracelets must have dropped us here and now for a reason . . . So let’s stop the aliens, save the town, and take evidence of that back to Alexander King, so we can claim the prize. Screw There can only be one. We can share the information.”
“No,” said Honey, and to her credit she did sound honestly regretful. “The mystery of Roswell is what crash-landed here in 1947. And that had nothing to do with cattle mutilations. They didn’t start until much later. And none of the descriptions of the original aliens were anything like the thing we just saw.”
“Then why are these new aliens here?” I said. “Why choose Roswell out of all the small towns in the world?”
“Perhaps because Roswell has such strong alien connections,” said Walker. “To make what happens here more . . . visible to the rest of the world. An alien atrocity in this town would be reported all over the world.”
“We’re not here to be heroes,” said Honey. “We’re here to be agents. To discover the answer to a specific question. That has to come first. It’s the job. And Eddie, I really don’t think my superiors at Langley would approve of me sharing King’s secrets with anyone else. They might even call it treason. So, I will do what I have to do. I know my duty.”
“So do I,” said Walker. “You cannot be trusted with King’s secrets, Honey. Or your masters. I’m not sure anyone can. So I will win the game, take the secrets, and bury them deep in the Nightside, where no one will ever find them.”
“And the people of Roswell?” I said.
“There will be time for revenge later,” said Walker.
“My duty is to protect people from outside threats,” I said. “All people, everywhere. To hell with all games, and secrets, and politics. People come first, always. Get out of my sight, both of you. Go play your precious game. And when this is over, and I’ve stopped the aliens and saved the town . . . I will come and find you and take your precious prize away from you.”
“You do what you have to,” said Honey. “And I’ll do what I have to. I hope you do defeat the aliens, Eddie; I really do.”