Free No Going Back by Mark L. Van Name Page A

its top. The liquid flowed into the girl.
    I handed her one. “Now, you do Tasson.”
    Her hand trembled as she took it from me.
    “Relax,” I said. “It’s simple, as you saw.”
    “I’m trusting you,” she said. She took a slow, deep breath and gave her son the drug.
    I took the capsule from her and put it, along with the other empty one, in my pocket.
    “How long before he—they—wake up?” she said.
    “About ten minutes.” I stood. “You give one to each of the others. Give me back each empty capsule. I’m going to communicate with my team.”
    I handed her a capsule, and she bent to another child.
    “Why not help the poor woman?” Lobo said.
    “Because keeping her busy is better than dealing with her fretting,” I subvocalized.
    “Humans,” Lobo said with a sigh, “can’t live with ’em, can’t kill them all without more ammo than I can carry and without being really bored afterward.”
    When Chang finished, I swapped the empty for another capsule.
    In a few minutes, she’d done them all.
    “Now?” she said.
    “Five minutes to the park,” Lobo said over the comm.
    “We’re going to arrive soon at this park.” I showed it to her on the transport’s control. “Do you know it?”
    “Parthan’s? Sure.” She glanced at me. “Not exactly the best part of the city, but not the worst either.”
    “It’s close to where we were,” I said, “and it doesn’t have surveillance cameras everywhere.”
    “That doesn’t surprise me,” she said. “The government doesn’t worry too much about the folks down here. What do we do now?”
    “I want you to call back everyone who called you,” I said. “Audio only. Tell each of them the same thing: that a woman you didn’t recognize called you and told you to come to this park, that because you were desperate to see your son you slipped out to check, and that the children were waiting, just as the woman said. Something like that, however you want to say it—but short, very short. Make sure to say the park’s name. Tell them to come. Then disconnect and call the next.”
    “How I would say it?” she said, “Right? Not the way you did.”
    I chuckled. “Definitely.”
    She nodded. She stared at Tasson for a few seconds. Tears filled her eyes. She thumbed up the first caller on her comm and connected to it. When she heard an answer, she started talking fast. “It’s a miracle! I got a call. She said my Tasson and those other kidnapped children were safe in Parthan’s Park. I ran out to check. They are! I’m with them. Come if you want to see them.” She disconnected and looked up at me. “How was that?”
    “Perfect,” I said. “Now, do it again with every one of them.” Her comm vibrated. “Don’t answer any incoming calls.”
    “Two minutes,” Lobo said. “I’m contacting the police and more newstainment groups.”
    Tasson and the girl next to him moaned slightly and rolled over.
    “Hurry,” I said to Chang. “We’re almost there.”
    She repeated the call over and over, talking faster than the first time and disconnecting quickly.
    We came to a stop.
    She kept making calls.
    In another minute, she finished.
    “Whew!” she said. “Done.”
    All the children were moving now, though none seemed to be conscious yet.
    “There’s one more thing you have to do,” I said, “and it’s vital.”
    “What?”
    “Watch these kids, and tell every newstainment geek who arrives who they are. More people will be coming than you called, many more. Police, too. Keep the kids with you, and tell them they’ll be going home soon. Between the police and all those corporations hungry to be the feed leader on a hot story, someone will find each kid’s family soon.”
    She looked at all the children on the floor. “I can do that.” She faced me. “Where will you be?”
    “Gone,” I said. “I was never here.”
    She leaned into me and hugged me. “Thank you so much.” She squeezed me tightly. “So very very much. I wish I