Chapter 20

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After my shower, I grabbed my camera and started back into town. I had a couple more ideas on what to use it for. If I could find the boys, or whatever was left of them, I'd undoubtedly be able to piece a little bit more of this puzzle together. 

When I reached the alleyway, though, I was too late. The MPs were already here. I got as close to the scene as the police and their barriers would allow, but it did me no good. <These guys are making a serious effort to keep everyone away. From here, I can't even get a glimpse of what's going on.> I looked around at the vehicles present. <Hmm. No morgue truck? No paddy wagon?>I was about to reach into my wallet for my old press pass, but thought better of it. <I don't know why I bother carrying the thing around anymore.> Instead, I disappeared into another alley. Maybe I could find another way in. 

Too bad the police had thought of that too. There was nowhere I could go to get near the crime scene. Frustrated, I made my way back to the street. There were a couple more vehicles around, but the people getting out of them weren't police. They looked more like scientists. One of them in particular was having a serious discussion with the MP Sergeant. With a bit of flashed paperwork and some heated words, the lab man got his way. I discreetly snapped a few pictures of him and his friends before walking past. <There's something going on here, and those scientist guys don't want anyone to know about it. This is all just a little bit too... whatever... for my tastes. Someone's got the answers to all this, and I've _got_ to know them.>I checked and found that I only had a couple more shots left on this roll of film. <I really wanna get at these pictures. Even if it means I'll waste a few shots, I've just got to get them developed.> 

<Unfortunately, the darkroom is closed until tomorrow... er... later today. Damn. Might as well get some sleep then.>I awoke to a loud, ringing noise. <Damn phone. Who would call me at this hour?> I rolled over and saw that it was eight o'clock already. <Okay, never mind.> I stretched my arm as far as it could reach, but I had to crawl halfway out of bed before I could grab the phone. 

"Hello?" <Damn I sound tired.>"Commander Landers? This is flight operations. One of your patrols is picking up some suspicious signals, so your squadron's combat status has been set to 'standby.'" 

"Got it, Ops. We'll be ready in five minutes. Don't start an attack without us." I hung up the phone and started the auto dialler I'd installed. It would call every member of my squadron and get them to the flight deck, pronto. Meanwhile, I pulled on my flight suit and got ready to leave. A quick glance at my computer terminal told me I still had five minutes left before the search was completed. <Damn my timing. Shit.> I swore as I ran out the door. 

By the time I reached the launch bay, the attack was official, and we launched immediately. The battle outside didn't look like it was going well. Flight patterns were looking sloppy and dangerous, and most of the pilots I saw were still flying as if they were on earth. 

"Damnit people! We're not in an atmosphere! Fly your ships right!" I screamed at my squadron and anyone else who cared to listen. Some of these people just did not realise what they could be capable of if they ignored the limitations that atmosphere and gravity impose. As if to show them, I whipped my nose around and strafed a group of pods while flying sideways. <Ha! Eat that, you bastards.>The battle was over quickly, although we suffered a few losses. Luckily, none in my squadron had died, though both of the Montgomeries, Rice, Overhill, Underhill, Haroun, and Sergeant Nielsen had been forced to eject. I was told recovery crews were being sent to grab them as I brought Raven in for a smooth landing. <This is getting too damn easy,> I thought as I leapt from my cockpit, ignoring the service tech who'd come to help me out. 

I walked along Raven's fuselage, checking for damage. A couple scrapes and a nasty burn were all I could find. "Good show. We did a good job out there," I grinned as I pulled my helmet off. I glanced back at the tech as she reinstalled my Valkyrie's pilot ladder. I walked over and gave her a pat on the shoulder, "Thanks for tryin', Demh. I'm just in too good a mood to take it easy this morning." 

The tech turned around, shaking her head. "I'm not Demh. She hasn't come to work yet today." 

"Really? Oh well. Say hi for me if you see her before I do," I waved as I walked away. 

"Right, Commander." 

My database search hadn't produced much. A couple of the words were picked up in random languages, but, no matter how I combined them, they never made any sense. Thallin had probably gone way over the edge. <'Those with no mind can speak with no mind, and thus, none shall understand.' Whatever. I should probably ask him about it. It's the best way to find something out, but...> I picked up the stolen micro-cassette and scratched at some of the dried blood. <How in the world do I explain this?><I've got this tape. It's incriminating evidence against Thallin Braywater. I don't want this to get out, since he's a friend of mine, but I do need some bargaining chips to get more pieces to this puzzle out of him.> I sat there, staring at my terminal, thinking about how to go about all this. I figured that Thallin was probably in the know about a few of the things I was confused about, and that he would probably be able to show or tell me who to ask about the others. I hoped. <First, I've just got to find out how... Why he mutilated those kids I heard on the tape. Thallin, you're probably the only one who knows, exactly. Except for those scientist fellows at the crime scene last night.> 

A few quiet words escaped my lips, "But how do I get it out of him without betraying our friendship? I can't blackmail him... That's entirely out of the question. I mean, who would believe me anyways? Sure, some cheap sound effects on a micro-tape... Right. I'm not really interested in attracting attention to myself right now, either." I took a deep breath and stood up, clicking off the terminal before grabbing my jacket. "I guess there's only one way..." 

"Hey Pops! What're you still doin' here?" The old guy with the cold was pacing in the hall as I came in. 

He turned his head, recognised me, and growled, "'Doctor!' I'm here because I work here. He handed the clipboard he was holding to a nurse, and turned to face me. "Did you come back to check on your friend?" 

"Yeah," I admitted. "I need to talk to him for a bit. Is he Ok? Is he awake?" 

He took another clipboard from the nurse and started wandering the hall again, reading it. I put a hand on the wall and stood on one foot, trying to look innocently foolish while waiting for an answer. For a moment, he paused, thinking, and said, "He will be fine. We just have to get his metabolism balanced again. How did you figure he was my patient?" 

I lowered my foot and balanced myself, startled slightly. "I didn't. I just asked off-hand... Sorta." I hadn't counted on him knowing. I'm not even sure why I asked him at all. "Er... Can I see him?" 

"You'll have to get in line, I'm afraid. Last I checked, he hadn't come to yet, and there's a group waiting to speak with him already. You can wait in the lobby if you like." He handed the clipboard back to the nurse, and, once again, took another from her. "It may be a couple hours, but I'll tell you when he's ready to see you." He started reading again, ignoring me, so I started on my way to the lobby. 

<If I'm gonna wait, I guess I'd better get started.>But, before I managed to take three steps, he spoke up again, "Actually, he might just want to know your name before he agrees to see you..." He inclined his head at me. 

"Oh. Tell him that Kay Landers is looking to see him, I guess." 

"K. Landers?" He blinked. "Black Squadron, right? I'll tell him first chance I get, Commander." 

<What?> "Thanks."The lobby was almost empty of people, so I chose a seat from an empty row and grabbed an old magazine that looked somewhat interesting. I barely had time to sit down before the elevator doors across from me opened up. Four people stepped out. Three men in military uniform and one woman in coveralls. I recognised the woman. It was Demh, my flight technician. She was quietly speaking with one of the uniformed men. Their service emblems revealed them to be from Military Intelligence. 

<I wonder what she's associating with those gweebs for. Not exactly her kind of company, as I remember.> I watched them turn into the hall leading to the exits. <Agh... Curiosity killed the cat, Kay,> I warned myself. <But I'm not feline.> I stood up and did my best to follow them. It wasn't terribly difficult, since I knew where they were going, the exits, but I was careful just the same. Unfortunately, I almost walked right into them near the hall where Pops was doing his paperwork. Pops was still there, minus the nurse and clipboards, but he was talking to the main MIB. When he pointed in my direction, I ducked, immediately, back around the corner. I stayed behind the wall, trying to listen, but I couldn't make out any of the words. Giving up for the moment, I made my way back to the lobby. <They didn't see me... I hope. Those MIBs make me nervous.> 

I went back to my seat and grabbed the magazine. It was several months out of date, Pre-Macross. No one had bothered to start printing magazines on board yet, and no one would. It wasn't practical. I had just started the first article when Pops came strolling in. I looked at him expectantly, and he flashed a quick smile and shook his head as he stepped into a waiting elevator. He was back by the time I finished the article, though, and he waved to me while holding the elevator door open with one hand. 

Tossing aside the magazine, I jumped over a row of seats and rushed into the lift. Pops grinned at me, "He's wide awake now, and he seems quite eager to speak with you." 

"Great... Er... Could I talk to him alone, please? It's a little personal," I asked. 

"I really don't-" 

I interrupted, "Actually, it's real personal." 

He looked at me oddly and was about to speak when the elevator pinged and the doors opened. He cracked a smile and said, "Alright. Room 415, but don't worry him too much. We haven't got him quite fixed yet." 

"Don't worry, Pops. I'll be nice," I smiled as I stepped off the lift. 

"That's what I'm worried about, Miss Landers," he said, quickly, as the doors closed in front of him. I growled at the steel plate in front of me for a few seconds before storming down the hall to room 415. 

The door was open and I stepped in, just barely regaining my composure. Thallin was lying on a semi-reclined hospital bed, holding a micro-tape player and smiling at me. He pressed a button on its side and it began to play back its recording. 

"'...equipment for your plane.' 'Weren't you the guy I saw sitting in bay 5B? And the pilot of the VX-001?'" It was my voice... my recording... my previous interview with Lieutenant Thallin Braywater. 

Forward to Chapter 21.
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