their roll of thermoneutral clingfilm; the others are doing the same. This pig chopper will be scanning the ground with thermal imaging equipment. They have to get cool, they have to get to the same temperature as the ground. Soon the MegaVans are covered with clingfilm and they all roll underneath. A pig car screams past. And another. Choking from residual fumes, aware that this will be their stiffest test, they wait. Nulight and Kappa are hugging one another. Nulight says, "Man, if we're caught now the aliens will just stroll on in. Earth'll be as good as lost."
"Don't," Kappa chides.
"But—"
"Don't!" She puts her hand over his mouth. "I don't want to hear it."
The chopper is nearing, following the road. When it is overhead Nulight closes his eyes and, though he does not follow the religion, prays to all the Bön deities he can remember from his childhood.
The thrumming becomes quieter. The chopper has missed them.
After another minute they get out and stand up, dusting off their clothes. Nulight flicks a V to the departing pigs. But now it is time to reverse their direction. Using electronic maps they plan a route along C roads and lanes back east, hoping this will confuse the chase. But dawn is very near. They will have to hurry. More than one chopper will be searching once the sun is up.
Nulight hopes the Plains Police plc have messed up this year's budget. After all, they have their shareholders to think about.
"Almost the Second Battle of the Beanfield," he mutters. "C'mon, time to go."
Sitting uncomfortably with Kappa in the back of the van, bouncing when the vehicle bounces, Nulight begins to wonder what will become of them. Shock has turned to fear and he feels cold and unhappy. Kappa is holding him, but that is not much help.
After some moments of misery he becomes calm again. "I'll tell you what we're gonna do," he says. "We're gonna blow up that Berlin club."
Kappa grips one of his hands. "But the risk?"
"We've got the money," Nulight counters. "Obviously auton is the crux of the matter. The aliens can't stand it if we play around with it. If we blow up that club, we'll set them back twenty years."
"Maybe they'd come down, guns blazing."
"Maybe, maybe not. Something tells me they're more subtle than that. They want secret control, manipulation, they wanna do it on the quiet—they enjoy buzzing a few people, but I don't think they wanna be exposed to the world. And guns ain't their style, I know that 'cos of what I saw in Tibet. They wanna drop their net over the world in one swoop."
Kappa hesitates, then murmurs, "When you say blow up the club...?"
"I mean blow up the computers."
Kappa nods. "Then the Gesang Der Junglinge has to go. Of course, it can't be a job for me. I'm still Dean. I need that position."
"Agreed," Nulight says. "This is a job for me and a hit squad. But I think I know a man who can provide the kind of squad I need."
"Who?"
"A certain canine friend of mine."
...MSSG SECURE? CODE...
* to N******
* from *********
Nulight tells the computer, "Please decode."
*Sure.
"Now give us the message."
*Re: the hack of major astro corps and sky watchers.
*All the big observatories have nothing, not even stuff buried under ordinary data. I know the feel of people hiding stuff, and there's nothing there except a crowd of ufo nuts, anti-skeptic groups, and ongoing Fortrean Times type people.
*The global corp hack turned up a few people doing side projects, but no major results. I could have missed something, but I doubt it. Global government hack produced nothing except the usual array of mathematically coded files, and even I can't undo their laces unless I'm given a few months.
*So there you are. 99% probable that nothing BIG has been spotted—except by us, of course.
*Remember you're an initiate. See you soon. Continue the good work.
CHAPTER FIVE
...dogtastic...
Nulight takes a leafbuster (ie. non-UK) train from Bath up to the big smoke, where he walks pale pavements all
"Don't," Kappa chides.
"But—"
"Don't!" She puts her hand over his mouth. "I don't want to hear it."
The chopper is nearing, following the road. When it is overhead Nulight closes his eyes and, though he does not follow the religion, prays to all the Bön deities he can remember from his childhood.
The thrumming becomes quieter. The chopper has missed them.
After another minute they get out and stand up, dusting off their clothes. Nulight flicks a V to the departing pigs. But now it is time to reverse their direction. Using electronic maps they plan a route along C roads and lanes back east, hoping this will confuse the chase. But dawn is very near. They will have to hurry. More than one chopper will be searching once the sun is up.
Nulight hopes the Plains Police plc have messed up this year's budget. After all, they have their shareholders to think about.
"Almost the Second Battle of the Beanfield," he mutters. "C'mon, time to go."
Sitting uncomfortably with Kappa in the back of the van, bouncing when the vehicle bounces, Nulight begins to wonder what will become of them. Shock has turned to fear and he feels cold and unhappy. Kappa is holding him, but that is not much help.
After some moments of misery he becomes calm again. "I'll tell you what we're gonna do," he says. "We're gonna blow up that Berlin club."
Kappa grips one of his hands. "But the risk?"
"We've got the money," Nulight counters. "Obviously auton is the crux of the matter. The aliens can't stand it if we play around with it. If we blow up that club, we'll set them back twenty years."
"Maybe they'd come down, guns blazing."
"Maybe, maybe not. Something tells me they're more subtle than that. They want secret control, manipulation, they wanna do it on the quiet—they enjoy buzzing a few people, but I don't think they wanna be exposed to the world. And guns ain't their style, I know that 'cos of what I saw in Tibet. They wanna drop their net over the world in one swoop."
Kappa hesitates, then murmurs, "When you say blow up the club...?"
"I mean blow up the computers."
Kappa nods. "Then the Gesang Der Junglinge has to go. Of course, it can't be a job for me. I'm still Dean. I need that position."
"Agreed," Nulight says. "This is a job for me and a hit squad. But I think I know a man who can provide the kind of squad I need."
"Who?"
"A certain canine friend of mine."
...MSSG SECURE? CODE...
* to N******
* from *********
Nulight tells the computer, "Please decode."
*Sure.
"Now give us the message."
*Re: the hack of major astro corps and sky watchers.
*All the big observatories have nothing, not even stuff buried under ordinary data. I know the feel of people hiding stuff, and there's nothing there except a crowd of ufo nuts, anti-skeptic groups, and ongoing Fortrean Times type people.
*The global corp hack turned up a few people doing side projects, but no major results. I could have missed something, but I doubt it. Global government hack produced nothing except the usual array of mathematically coded files, and even I can't undo their laces unless I'm given a few months.
*So there you are. 99% probable that nothing BIG has been spotted—except by us, of course.
*Remember you're an initiate. See you soon. Continue the good work.
CHAPTER FIVE
...dogtastic...
Nulight takes a leafbuster (ie. non-UK) train from Bath up to the big smoke, where he walks pale pavements all
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