26

Professor Holcomb joined Dr Frederick Sutter in the Park Hill Hotel Restaurant without a word. It never occurred to either man to exchange pleasantries.

'You're sure they've checked every lead?'

Frederick Sutter yawned, took off his glasses and massaged his tired eyes. 'They were thorough. The army just wrapped up its own independent investigation. Same result. You have something to add?'

Holcomb's stare was blank, emotionless, like those of a killer. 'You know how difficult a time I had obtaining information about the bodies and body parts found at the crash site. Don't be surprised if the information I gathered isn't . . . flawed.'

Frederick knew what he meant. Any leaked "information" might turn out to be deliberately leaked mis- or dis-information.

'I understand. What have you heard.'

Holcomb sighed his anger and frustration. 'I have heard two conflicting reports: that the aliens are close copies of humans, and that the aliens are some sort of modified humans.'

Frederick frowned his scepticism. 'What do you make of this. Do you think it may be an attempt at a cover-up?'

Holcomb's response was icy. 'I won't think anything until I've seen the bodies for myself.'

Frederick Sutter and Holcomb both looked to Sutter's right hand. In his clenched fist his knife was clutched, bent back on itself. Frederick laid the utensil on the table in a controlled manner that nevertheless belied his inner turmoil.

Drawing his eyes from the ruined knife with an effort, Holcomb asked, 'What of your two young friends? Have their efforts in tracing the movements of the survivors met with any sort of success?'

Frederick's answering smile was one of reptilian remorselessness. 'As a matter of fact, yes. They've narrowed the search down to less than two dozen possibilities.'

Holcomb's visage became stony, a precursor to an unleashing of violence. 'This matter is far too important for you to have waited for the asking. How long have you known?'

Frederick's response was equally menacing. 'I only learned of their well-educated hunch in the past six hours. They have not yet commenced their search, so the present is soon enough for you to have learned of this.'

'You fool! My team is not yet mobilised-!'

'I have no intention of allowing your team to mobilise at this time,' Frederick told him mildly. 'Not until the aliens have been located. I suggest you learn to control your anger, and your arrogance. You draw too much attention to yourself, just as your much-vaunted team will draw unwanted attention to itself, once it is mobilised. We want the aliens to disappear, drawing as little attention to the occurrence as possible, remember? If civilians see your team in action, there will be talk, and there will be rumours, and as we both know, rumours tend to have a life of their own.'

'You want them for yourself,' Holcomb said on intuition. 'You have no intention of killing them just yet. Why?'

Frederick's only reaction was to raise an eyebrow. 'You should have guessed that by now. Getting our hands on the alien technology is one thing, but if all we're left with is a crew of dead aliens, then there is the possibility that we will not be able to unlock the secrets of their technology. We might be left with a situation akin to Bronze Age people trying to puzzle out the intricacies of quantum mechanics. Besides, the missing aliens will probably be able to gain entry to the ship. That in itself would give us a decided advantage.'

'Possibly. But what if the fugitive aliens turn out of be nothing more than janitors or mechanics?'

Frederick shrugged. 'We will have to be satisfied with what we get. Even a janitor knows what things do and what they're for. Any janitor can change a light bulb, or rewire a light switch. Besides, if this is the precursor to an invasion, the aliens will be able to tell us something of what to expect in the future.'

Holcomb frowned. 'It was my understanding that you had dismissed the notion of invasion.'

'I had,' Frederick admitted, 'but the longer the aliens remain holed up in their ship, the more I begin to wonder what they're up to.'

Holcomb sighed, looking pensive. 'If we can prise the means to enter the ship from the missing aliens, it would mean diverting the attention of both CSIS and the military away from the ship, long enough for us to enter and secure it. Subsequent to that, after killing the ship's inhabitants, we would require time . . . perhaps unlimited time . . . in order to assimilate the aliens' technology.'

Frederick smiled at that. 'All we need do is gain access to the ship. From there we could simply remain in the ship as the aliens are doing. In essence we'd be turning their ship into a Trojan Horse.'

'Assuming it isn't one already,' Holcomb told him seriously. 'You don't know what we'll find in there! The aliens may have weapons beyond anything we've ever encountered.'

'That is the hope,' Frederick replied cryptically.