A.R.Yngve
ALIEN BEACH

Chapter Fifteen

DAY 85

New York City, USA.

With only half a day's beforehand notice, the security buildup had proved swift and immense.

Yet, anyone could have expected that the Sirians would eventually come to New York, the city featured in countless broadcast images and words. Armored police trucks were driving down every block of Manhattan Island. Heavily armed officers, wearing vests and helmets, were posted on every street-corner. Scores of helicopters were buzzing in the dirty sky above the high rooftops. Four Secret Service agents, constantly overhearing the police band through discrete little headsets, flanked the back and front end of the bus. The Sirians had been asked to visit the United Nations Headquarter long before, but they had not given a definite answer - up to and including this particular day.

"We can take you straight to the U.N. building, where you must meet the leaders of the planet. The rest of New York... is just not worth seeing."

Carl explained the state of things to the seated Sirians, before the bus left the Kennedy airport. He wanted to take them straight to the United Nations building - this was the city where he grew up, and he didn't want his guests to risk visiting it.

Moanossoans spoke up for her group: "Caarlsssayeers... vvery impoortant ffor uss to sseee reallly. Nnnot onlly traansmitteed imagess offf Neeew Yyyork. Wwhen wee see reallly... wee becommme less nooot realll. You doo understaand thhis I sayyy? Uniteed Nationns... lateeer. Whennn theen wwwe sayy soo."

She assured him she knew the place's reputation for danger. Ranmotanii casually agreed with her - whatever authority the old alien purportedly held, it now seemed far less absolute than the humans had first assumed. (Which went to show how much humans took for granted.) Carl could at least comfort himself with the fact, that New York was less violent now than it used to be. It was also a lot blander.

"Give'em the grand tour, then head for the U.N. and wait for further orders," he told the driver.

The bus moved, went from the airport onto the highway, across one of the many crowded bridges, and entered one of the most urbanized islands in the world. Most of its major sights were passed by on the way. The seven amphibians stared out the one-way windows and pointed excitedly at various things: the Statue of Liberty, the rebuilt twin towers of the formerly destroyed World Trade Center, the neon signs on Times Square, and the new, pastel-colored Disney block. They behaved much like the other tourists groups from Europe, Asia, and South America, though their "cameras" were infinitely more advanced.

After an hour's driving through the straight streets of Manhattan, a brief summer rain ended. The sun burned mercilessly at the wet pavements - Carl was busy talking over the phone with various important people, preparing for the Sirians' hotel stay and their security arrangements for the U.N. Headquarters - if they should suddenly decide upon going there after all. A large concentration of police forces were already sealing off all blocks surrounding the building. Ann and Lazar were talking to Oanss, asking him what he thought of the city.

"Neww Yoorrk lookss llike otherrr... ooother thaan Siriuss way off liiife. You uunderstannd thiis? I donn't uunderrstand wwwhy mannny laand-hummmans live inn theee conncentraation oof nummber lllike soo."

"Land-humans want to live and work close to other land-humans. Back at Alien Beach, we always saw you, Sirians, moving in groups of several people... so you are a little like that too?" Ann suggested.

Oanss didn't nod when he answered - nodding didn't come naturally to his kind. Instead, his lips widened slightly. Suddenly understanding that Oanss hadn't intended to speak, Lazar made a question.

"Oanss, have your people seen cities that resemble New York, but on other planets than this one?"

The amphibian blinked slowly - he fumbled uneasily with the knobs of his jacket, but didn't linger on any of them - then he replied.

"No... will not talk aboutt thhat yeet. Loook... theere lllook. Is thaat aan animalll?"

He pointed out toward a Mickey Mouse impersonator in the street, half a block away on a corner of Times Square. The man-sized "mouse" pranced about outside a huge IMAX cinema, surrounded by tourists and children, his lifelike facial expressions shifting constantly - the very latest in animatronics, Ann and Lazar realized. "Mickey" was soon joined by "Donald," "Goofy," and a new figure: a Disney version of... a Sirian.

"What the hell is this?" Ann gasped, staring at the cute, tall moving suit with its dangling tentacle-arms. The impersonator's costume had huge, rolling animatronic eyes and was drawing quite a crowd. Ann wanted to cry with anger; she bit into her knuckles and swallowed her fury, trying not call for more of the Sirians' attention.

"It's like some bad joke," Lazar mumbled to Ann. "What are we going to tell them?"

She merely shook her head.

"Isn't that illegal?" the bus driver asked out loud, taking the bus closer to the cinema. "Breach of copyright or something?"

"The movie probably won't be released until after the Sirians have left the planet," Lazar said bitterly.

Inexplicably, "Mickey" seemed to be more convincing to the amphibians than to the children. From the front of the bus, the hydraulic doors hissed open, then shut.

Carl started when his phone conference was interrupted by a shout.

"One of them just sneaked out!"

"What?"

Carl and everyone else in the bus looked out to Times Square, and saw two tall, cone-headed figures in the nearby crowd. One, an impersonator in a cute animatronic suit. The other, a real, frightened amphibian.

Moanossoans shrieked - a high-pitched squeak, like an umpire's whistle or a dolphin's call. It was Tmmtenaa who had sneaked out the door, while one of the Secret Service agents was opening it to talk to a street cop. Now the crowd of tourists and New Yorkers surrounded both Tmmtenaa and the impersonator, closing in without mercy. In the instant he realized what was happening - his worst nightmare turned real - Carl's mind stopped. He could not shout the right order to the driver or the Secret Service men. He found himself unable to call in the police and disperse the mob.

A thousand human eyes of all ages stared at Tmmtenaa at once. In all directions, he was surrounded by hands unlike his, stretching out to touch him. The crowd's voices merged into a cacophonic roar of emotion. A little child was pushed down and trampled by older children. Cut off from the bus, Tmmtenaa stood helpless with his oval eyes flickering open-shut, open-shut, mouth pinched, arms paralyzed. Ann thought she could see him tremble. The crowd was mostly children; they couldn't harm him. But the team had to get him inside quickly, before...

There was no bang; the sniper must have been using a silencer. The crowd screamed and scattered, fanning out from the spot where Tmmtenaa collapsed. Two drops of purple-red blood dripped from his head onto the asphalt. From his metallic vest, a black liquid blob had swelled up and was covering his upper body.

A very loud, shrill warning signal came from his vest, making every human bystander hold her ears. The time elapsed from the moment Tmmtenaa had exited the bus, to when he had been shot, was less than a minute. The Secret Service men rushed outside with their guns drawn, closely followed by Moanossoans and Oanss. The two Sirians shut off Tmmtenaa's warning siren and carried him back into the bus, moving fast and hunching down to cover him. From somewhere above, a second silent shot hit the pavement close to their feet.

"Drive to the Bellevue, quickly," a Secret Service man ordered the driver. "Don't wait for the police escort, they'll catch up on the way."

The bus driver obeyed. Carl tried to get close to Tmmtenaa, see where he had been hit - and Moanossoans blocked him with her arms, baring her white, cylindrical teeth at him, eyes turned to reddish slits. She made a squeaking warning-shriek, that made his ears smart. He didn't back off.

"Please, let me help. We have people who can help -"

Another, sharper squeak came, and he had to back away to the front of the bus to avoid going deaf. Ranmotanii moved up to Carl, trembling a little, and faced him.

"Tmmtenaa iis daaamageeed mmuch! He can die reeeally now! Ouur machinnnes say a buullett come dowwwn and liittle almmost movve into Tmtenaa's heead..."

There was panic in the alien's wailing voice.

"I tried to warn you! I grew up here," Carl said quickly, barely in control of his own panic. "Why didn't you listen to me? Tmmtenaa shouldn't have gone outside the bus!"

Face ashen, Ranmotanii shut his bloodshot eyes and opened his mouth as if ready to scream. He uttered no sound save for his quickened, deep breathing. Carl fell silent for a long moment, himself unable to calm his heart.

"I'm so sorry, Ranmotanii."

They looked toward Tmmtenaa, who was lying down in the back of the moving bus, almost completely covered with the black substance oozing from his vest. The nature of this technology had not been explained, but Carl assumed it served many functions - in this case as a sort of emergency life-support system. Three other Sirians were kneeling down at Tmmtenaa's side, holding their heads, making low moans and squeaks. For all their superior knowledge, these beings appeared to instantly lose their calm when confronted with injury and the threat of violent death.

An hour later, the Sirians declared that the bullet had been removed from Tmmtenaa's head. They demanded to immediately be brought back to the airport and flown directly to Alien Beach, where he could receive special treatment in the lander vessel. For the moment he was being held in hypothermia, the black substance forming a frozen, hard cocoon that steamed with exhaust heat.

Carl could do nothing but accept their demands. The guided tour was aborted.

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