Free V - The Original Miniseries by Kenneth Johnson Page B

Quinton would have called to explain everything by the time he got back inside, called Kathy, but he couldn't.
The cop was inspecting the interior of the car. "Never saw anything quite like this. I'd better call L.A.P.D. right away." He peered at Maxwell. "You gonna be okay, Doc?"
    "I'm all right," Maxwell said, untruthfully. "This is weird," Robeson said. "You got any idea what might have happened to him?"
"No." Maxwell found he was shaking again as the breeze brought that smell to his nostrils again. "God, no."
     
"I'll call L.A.P.D.," Robeson said, then added kindly, "you better sit down, Doc."
    THE AFTERNOON SUN SLANTED THROUGH AND SPATTERED ITSELF IN a yellow haze against the oyster-white wall of Kristine Walsh's Los Angeles loft apartment. Mike Donovan sat on the sofa, checking and packing his camera equipment. Kristine, in bra and half-slip, was in the other room, putting on her makeup. Her monologue was broken into uneven bursts of speech and pauses as she squinted in the mirror, daubing carefully at her eyes and mouth.
    .. and then Diana said that she was pleased with the progress at the Richland plant. Said it was representative of all the others around the world." She widened her eyes, touching sable mascara to her lashes in quick brushing gestures.
Donovan's voice reached her from the living room. "Did she mention that she'd postponed the seminars for the scientists a second time?"
    "Yes. She said they'll be beginning them shortly." Donovan made a rude noise. "That's what they said the other time."
    "But wait, Mike, I haven't told you the best part." Kristine tilted her head, examining her blusher critically. "Then Diana said, 'The other thing I'm pleased with here, Kristine, is you.' I didn't know what to say, what she was getting at, you know. Then she explained that of all the journalists they've met since they've been here, the Visitors feel most comfortable with me. She said, `Our research also shows that your people have a lot of confidence in you. You're trusted and respected ... attractive-' "
"So is Lassie," snapped Donovan. "What's that got to do with anything?" "Well, she told me those qualities were essential in the person they selected as the official Visitor spokesperson-and then she offered me the job!"
    "Huh?" "Or press secretary ... She said I could call it what I wanted. Which do you like?"
There was a long pause. Donovan's voice, when he finally spoke, sounded tight. "I don't much like the sound of either one."
     
Kristine gave a final pat to her hair, then pulled on her tan wool skirt and the dark brown striped blouse. "Come on, Mike. You're jealous."
     
"The hell I am. Don't be a jackass, Kris! I don't understand why you'd even consider it!" "They want someone the public trusts ... and I think it's an excellent career move." She walked past him into the living room, and, picking up her purse, began checking the contents.
    Donovan looked over at her. "What about your objectivity?" "What?" Notebook, she thought, tape recorder ... lipstick ... where's my pen?
    Mike's tone was hard, one she'd only heard a few times before-usually when someone asked him a question about his divorce. "Don't you think you're compromising your objectivity by sucking up to those-"
She whirled to face him. "I'm not sucking up to anybody!"
    His eyes were troubled. Kristine came over and knelt in front of him so she could look directly at him. "Don't you see? It's the perfect opportunity to really get the inside stuff! Exclusive stuff ... material that no one else has access to! I'm sure to get a book out of it, at the very least!"
    She took his hands in hers. They were limp, unresponsive, and his face still wore that shocked, puzzled expression. She tried to reassure him. "I'm going to stay objective, Mike. After all, I'm one of us, not them."
He looked down, stubbornly refusing to meet her eyes again. Kristine gave his hands a squeeze-then a shake. "Oh, come on, Mike! Any good reporter would be crazy not to jump at