He pushed the thought aside and looked up at her. “I wish things were different,” he admitted. They had somehow never gotten close to consummating their relationship — if it was a relationship. It galled Toby that he could ride the political winds, even predict them to some extent, and yet not understand the feminine mind. Why couldn’t they all be guys with tits? “Washington doesn’t feel like itself any longer.”
The thought was chilling. There was a heavy police and military presence on the streets, putting down riots with heavy brutality. The Witnesses — who had welcomed the aliens — were being lynched in the streets. After Tehran, only the most determined — and deluded — of true believers still believed in the promises from the aliens. There was no way of hiding what they’d done, and what was being done in their name. And someone had been taking shots at the White House. Toby was only surprised that the uncoordinated resistance hadn’t succeeded in killing more aliens, or collaborators. Perhaps he ought to be relieved. It would be quite easy for someone to take him for a collaborator.
“They’re taking control of the cities,” Gillian agreed. “They’ve been studying us for years. They knew exactly how to seduce us, how to take control… they’re going to rape the entire planet. Why couldn’t we have met them when we had the whip hand?”
Toby shrugged, awkwardly. “I have to go back to Washington tomorrow,” he said. It had been hard enough to get permission to sneak away for a night — and if anyone checked on where he was supposed to be going, the game would be thoroughly blown. His father would have to leave the farm just after Toby had departed, leaving only an unreliable human chain of messengers between them. If only they could trust the internet for anything more than a handful of coded phases. Gillian had done her best, but the alien computers were simply too powerful, capable of cracking any human code within hours at most. “I won’t see you again for a long time, if ever.”
“I know,” Gillian said. Suddenly, they were very close together. “I wish… I think…”
Their lips met. Toby had kissed before — he might not have been Don Juan, but he’d had other girls — but it felt different this time, almost electric. Perhaps it was love, part of his mind wondered, or perhaps it was just the awareness that there might not ever be another time. His lips pressed against hers with increasing desperation, feeling the sudden pressure of her body against his. He felt her hands reaching around to hold him, while he stroked her back as the kiss grew deeper. It was suddenly extremely difficult to undress without tearing something, or everything. She felt warm, perfect in his arms.
And then there was nothing left, but her.
The Colonel noticed the change in them the following morning, as Susan served them all bacon and eggs before Toby left. They didn’t know it, but the change in their relationship was obvious to someone with enough understanding of human body language. A blind man could have realised that they were now together. They couldn’t seem to let go of one another, or avoid blushing every time their eyes met. The Colonel pretended he hadn’t seen, even though part of him was trying to disapprove. He told that part of him to shut up. It wasn’t as if he’d been celibate before meeting Toby’s mother. Mary would have smacked him one for daring to even think of breaking up their happiness.
After breakfast, he found a quiet moment to exchange a few words with Toby in private. “You’ve done well,” he said, as soon as they were alone. “I wish I’d had a chance to get to know you better.”
“I understand,” Toby said. Perhaps, if the aliens hadn’t come, they would have remained at loggerheads. As it was, they had had a chance to rebuild their relationship. What more could any father ask for, at the end? They might never have another chance to try. “And thank you for everything.”
The Colonel smiled. “Just make sure that that bitch who sold us out doesn’t get to live and we’ll be even,” he said. They’d discussed the plan over breakfast. It would be chancy — and it all depended upon weak links. Maybe that was a strength, the Colonel told himself. No one would expect it. “And then we can build a new country after the aliens have been defeated.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Washington DC
USA, Day 63
“Motherfucker,” Jayne whispered, to herself.
She’d moved motels twice since uploading her latest piece news — actual investigative reporting — onto the internet. The precautions she’d taken hadn’t been good enough. A team of men wearing black suits and carrying guns were raking through the motel, while the manager, his staff and everyone unlucky enough to be in the building when it had been raided sat on the ground in handcuffs. Jayne knew who they were looking for, all right, and it was only sheer luck that had saved her from being caught in their net. If she hadn’t gone out for a meeting with one of her contacts, she would have been caught and her grand crusade would have come to a screeching halt.
Thankfully, she’d managed to disguise herself as an old woman. Muttering to herself, she shuffled past the federal agents, shivering as she felt their gazes running over her. None of them seemed normal; none of them were even glancing at one of the guests, who had been pulled out of the shower and left in handcuffs while naked. They were all pod people, she realised, the coldness in their eyes revealing the dead souls inside. If they weren’t fooled by her grey hair, shawl and hunched motion… she got past them without any interruption and made it around the corner. As soon as she was out of sight, she picked up her skirt and ran, back towards the heart of Washington. How long would it be before they realised what she’d done and started to go back after her?
Finding a bench, she sat down and lowered her eyes, refusing to pay attention to anyone on the streets. For their part, the citizens of Washington looked nervous, as if they expected the aliens to descend on them at any moment. Washington was an occupied city, no matter what President McGreevy said in her daily press conferences. The aliens and their pod people ruled the city. They’d set up roadblocks to prevent anyone leaving the city, carted away anyone who caused trouble and generally brought Washington to a halt. There was no food rationing, but Jayne suspected that that was only because the Snakes had set up feeding centres. The only thing a human had to do to access processed food produced by the machines was register with the aliens, something that would then be checked against government databases. Jayne knew enough to guess that the aliens would catch her the moment she allowed them to take her fingerprints and then…
She didn’t know. No one knew what had happened to the prisoners the aliens had taken out of the city. Some rumours on the internet — and flying from person to person — suggested that they’d simply been made to dig their own graves and then gunned down, their bodies left to rot once dirt had been shovelled over their mortal remains. Another theory suggested that they’d been turned into pod people, or simply been worked to death as slaves; Jayne suspected that she knew what would happen to her. The aliens would take her as their prisoner, turn her into a pod person, and then force her to recant what she’d said online. And maybe someone would believe their lies and stop planning to resist the slow conquest of the human race.
A moment later, she almost swore aloud. She’d taken out most of her life savings in cash when she’d realised that she would have to go on the run, but most of the money had been left in the motel room. She had only seventy dollars to her name, enough to buy… what? Prices of everything that wasn’t produced by the aliens was going up, despite strict attempts at price and wage control by President McGreevy. Everyone knew that the truckers weren’t so keen on bringing food into Washington now, with half of them on strike and the other half having deserted rather than run the risk of being turned into pod people. If the aliens hadn’t cracked down so hard on civil unrest, there would have been rioting in the streets.