INVASION

1563 4D

Wind howled across the Luce farm, rattling the shrouded powertiles on the barn roof; snow was coming again. Leil rammed the back door shut, hauled the two fuel canisters to the heat feeder, and dumped them in. Every night for six months, and no word from Andrew. She’d asked at ArCorp, called the militia again and again, sent Martin looking and asking around even among the andros, and nothing came of it all. Her husband was gone.

Her hands trembled. She warmed a mug of softbrew, stumbled exhausted into the main room, and slumped into the big warm chair, pulling a blanket around her. How would she go on without him? The mug vibrated in her fingers, raising concentric ripples on the spumed surface of the liquid.

She wanted to cry, to sob and scream and wail and throw herself at the walls and gouge her skin. Without him. She was without him. She kept repeating the words to try to make herself believe that he was really gone. Then maybe she could let it all up, let it all rise like a deadly tide, vomit the feelings out of herself. But somehow she hoped he’d be at the door, maybe when the wind and snow were at their worst, and she’d gather him in and…

At least Martin helped out, when he wasn’t negotiating the sale of his own farm. He’d been good, even when she’d blown up at him and his brothers, but he’d be leaving.

The children: Engel had to finish school at the University; the studies were paid for, and he had the best shot at a corp career. But Maiji and Janny still needed close watching.

She sipped her brew; it warmed her, the mug’s heat needling her fingers. Where was Andrew? ArCorp‘s people had simply shrugged. She’d go up and try them again, once every ten days or so. She wouldn’t give up.

The front door rattled and thudded. She looked at it wearily. Get to a warm chair with a blanket and a mug, and something or someone would drag her out. She clambered to her feet and set down the mug on the chair arm. As she approached the door, a twinge of danger unsettled her; everyone was supposed to be at home tonight, thanks to this storm, so who would be out here at this hour, unless it was Andrew? Hope awakened, she grabbed the handle and flung the door wide.

“Andr— oh, I’m sorry. How can I help you?”

The big man facing her wore a blue-and gray corpo uniform, and the bitter wind had tinted his dark face with gray chill. He towered over her, a shock of dark hair tumbling over a soft-handsome face. “Our van stalled down there on the road, out of fuel, and we could use a little warmth. We’ve called in for help.” He tapped the end of his nose with a finger. His nails looked very long.

She beckoned him in and looked out at six men standing huddled in the snow. “Come on in,” she said. This was unusual. Something nagged at her mind, but the cold moved her to let them warm up. They filed into the front room and she slammed the door tight behind the last one. They all carried holstered hand weapons.

The speaker looked at her living space, with the littered sofas and pillows and toys strewn everywhere, and shook his head slowly. She cringed, remembering her promise to herself to have the place cleaned up by this time each night. But it didn’t matter. She decided to make them comfortable.

There was no reason why ArCorp should— she stopped on her way to the kitchen and turned. “Would you like a hot drink? I’ll make some tea.”

The speaker and his companions were looking the living space over, as if they were hunting something. “I’ll say yes to the tea. May I join you in your kitchen?”

The request seemed so reasonable. She could ask him about Andrew. She led him from the front room; as she stepped toward the stove, something stung her neck, and she reached to swat at it. Her knees buckled, and her body collapsed into a heap; her head thudded on the wooden floor.

She could see along the floor toward the back door, and hear, and feel, but she couldn’t move a muscle. The corpo who had spoken bent over her, waved a hand in her face, and stood. She heard his voice say, “Okay. Search the whole place. Drop the children with the darts if they get up. I want nothing left out.”

Another voice, higher and nasal, called, “Are we leaving them alone?” Fear gripped Leil. She shouldn’t have gone to ask, she shouldn’t have gone.

“Don’t play with them,” the original speaker said. “Just find what I told you to.” The fear ebbed slightly in Leil‘s mind.

“Arlen, how long do we have?” A third voice.

Arlen — he must have been the one Andrew went to see. What were they looking for at the house? Why were they doing this? Leil‘s head throbbed.

Arlen said, “About ten minutes. That’s when the torch team goes to work.” His bootsteps receded. Shouts and screams began; feet scurried; an explosion wracked the house.

Oh, stars, no. A tear trickled from Leil‘s eye and soaked in between two boards in the floor.