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  In minutes the fire glow increased. Its light and warmth began driving back the night fears.

  Mike busied himself setting out knives, forks, spoons, plates, napkins, coffee mugs, and glasses. He opened bottles of water, set out plastic cartons of potato and egg salad plus the bread, meat, and cheese he’d bought at the store.

  As they ate, Joe and Mike talked little. Mike was more bushed than he ever remembered being. He listened to the wind roar. The longer bursts set up a moaning that seemed to emanate from the eaves of the cabin. He heard tree limbs rattle and creak, but he found their almost continuous rustle against the window panes and walls on the left side of the cabin to be the most disconcerting.

  “I hate the wind,” Joe said.

  “We couldn’t see or hear anybody approaching,” Mike said. “We don’t know if our communicators would warn us or not.”

  “Yours might. I’ll try again. I’ll do as much as I can with them for now, but it probably won’t do any good. I’ll have to concentrate on the thing not giving us away. That’ll reduce any effectiveness.”

  Mike offered to help. Joe said, “I’m not sure what I’m doing. I don’t know what will work.” Half an hour later Joe said, “This is useless. I haven’t been able to summon any power. I give up.”

  The wind stopped for a moment. In the delicious silence, Mike heard the hum of the clock radio. It sat on the kitchen counter and told him it was nearly six thirty.

  A gust of wind banged against the cabin. Seconds later they heard a loud crash.

  Mike lunged for Joe and pulled him to the floor. On his way down, Mike managed to reach the switch next to the front door and flipped the lights off. A soft glow came from a lamp with a dark green shade next to the couch. He stretched over Joe and pulled the chain on the lamp.

  The energy field did not expand. Mike feared that the enemy had learned how to get around his protections.

  The darkness was broken by the red glow from the coals in the Franklin stove and the comforting blue glow of their defenses. Mike could feel Joe next to him and hear his breathing. Joe had wound up on his stomach next to the couch, and Mike was on his side wedged between him and a coffee table. Mike put his hand on Joe’s back and caressed him. Mike felt the cotton of his shirt and the warmth of his body and the familiar tingle.

  After a few minutes of closeness, Mike fumbled toward the gun cabinet he remembered was on the west wall. Meganvilia hated guns, but Ray enjoyed hunting and kept an array of shotguns and hunting rifles in a locked cabinet. Ray ignored Meganvilia’s occasional carping about the slaughter of innocent animals.

  Mike doubted a shotgun would do much good against an all-powerful, technologically sophisticated alien. He also figured it might make him feel better to be hefting a shotgun. Ray had taught him to shoot, although Mike had resisted his invitation to join him in hunting. Getting his meat from a butcher was as close as Mike wanted to get to meeting the creatures he was about to devour.

  Mike crawled to the glass case in the dim light. He couldn’t remember where Ray kept the key. He smashed the glass with his elbow. The glass tinkled to the carpeted floor. Mike pulled himself to a sitting position and hefted the gun into his lap. He strained to listen, but with nature going nuts outside, he could barely hear himself breathe.

  After securing the gun and making sure it was loaded, Mike crawled to the kitchen area. He knew that in one of the cabinets under the sink, Meganvilia kept a flashlight with enough power to light a path back to Illinois while standing at the cabin door. Ray insisted on filling it with fresh batteries four times a year. After rooting around in the kitchen drawers, Mike found several vats of makeup and behind them the flashlight. He flicked it on. The batteries were working. With his supplies, Mike crawled back to Joe.

  “I think we should check out that noise,” Mike said.

  “If it’s aliens, we can’t beat them.”

  “If it’s not, we should find out what’s going on.”

  Rebundled in multiple layers of clothes, they pushed open the door against the wind. Outside blasts of clamor surrounded them. The whole world seemed to be in motion. Tree limbs and underbrush rattled in the stampeding gale. Mike panned the glow of the flashlight in an arc from the front slab of cement. A small branch hurtled by about ten feet away. Other branches, some over half a foot thick, lay torn and scattered around the undergrowth. Some seemed to have punched holes in the snow.

  The wind blew against Mike’s face and penetrated the slightest opening in his clothing. If he turned full into the wind, he had to squint his eyes nearly shut in order to see. He wasn’t sure if it was his trembling nerves or the wind that kept him shaking. Mike said, “I’d rather face what is out to get us than hide.”

  “You’re trembling.”

  “I know.”

  “Why are we out here?”

  “To buy time so we can do the best we can?”

  Mike tromped straight out toward the car. Joe followed him. Mike swung the shotgun from side to side as his eyes tried to penetrate the darkness and find the cause of the sound that had driven them to this nocturnal excursion.

  The energy field remained between them, expanding and contracting as the distance between them gained and lessened. “How far will this thing extend?” Mike asked.

  “As far as your abilities and the strength of the communicator can reach.”

  “As far as the moon?”

  “Maybe throughout the solar system.”

  “I’d be happy just around the cabin.” They were less than ten feet apart, but they had a hard time hearing each other because of nature’s noise. When they reached the car, Mike rotated himself and the flashlight beam three hundred and sixty degrees. He moved to within a foot of Joe so he didn’t have to shout. “Let’s take a circuit around the place, see if we can find anything.”

  Once past the lee of the cabin, the full force of the wind took them. Half the time as they walked, they were bent over nearly double to make headway against the icy blasts. They didn’t speak as they struggled through the swaying mass of vegetation, wisps of snow, and bits of ice. Mike shone his light on the cabin and the surrounding trees. When they reached the side farthest from the door, they took shelter against the unsanded planks. While tendrils of the angry gale managed to slither around the edges of the cabin and still caress the edges of their garments, being out of the direct force of the maddened gusts was a joy.

  “Nothing here,” Joe said.

  “Could it have been someone attacking us?” Mike asked.

  “I can’t see how.”

  “A diversion?”

  “To get us out of the cabin? I doubt if in or out of the cabin is going to make any difference to intergalactic power.”

  “I knew that. If something all powerful is going to attack us, I wish it would get it over with. Do you have any notion of how they plan to beat us?”

  “At the moment I distrust everything I was taught. I just don’t know.”

  Mike pointed the light toward the boat dock at the edge of the small lake. The water was completely frozen over. At the water’s edge the beam caught the remnants of a vast oak tree, now split completely from tip to root. Half of the tree swayed majestic and defiant against the tempest. The other half had fallen across an old boathouse that was now little more than smithereens. Mike panned the light over the tree. “That’s probably what made the noise.”

  Joe nodded.

  For several moments they listened to the remainder of the standing oak complain and creak in the wind.

  “I think I know how that tree feels,” Mike said.

  “Trees have feelings?”

  “I’m in an otherworldly adventure. Why not have trees with feelings? Let’s get back inside.” Huddled against the wind, they hurried back to the door. As they entered the cabin, Mike glanced to the east. He noted the first gray of dawn. Clouds obscured the last of the stars and the remainder of the moonlight.

  Early as it was, Mike used his cell phone to call his lawyer. H
e paced around the cabin as he explained about Jack’s status.

  David asked, “Mike, what’s going on? Where are you going?”

  He told him a brief version of the truth and finished with, “Meganvilia knows the whole story. Talk to him. There isn’t time now. Can you take care of Jack and his legal needs and deal with money issues?” He’d given Meganvilia the passwords for his accounts.

  David said, “Mike, this sounds really nuts.”

  “I’m sorry. I have to leave. I’m in mortal danger.”

  “Is this a joke?”

  “Talk to Meganvilia.” He hung up.

  Next Mike called his parents. He ignored the caller ID on his phone that said David was trying to call back. His mom answered the phone. For this call Mike sat in the high-backed rocker. He had no idea what to say. His mother, an early riser, asked about Jack. Mike filled her in. Finally he said, “I’m in trouble, Mom. I can’t explain very well now, there isn’t time.”

  She was silent, always the calm one. She asked, “When will there be time?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Have you broken the law?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I love you, Mom,” he said. “I’ll explain when I can. Always remember I love you and dad.”

  “Michael Martin Carlson, what is going on?” She sounded more worried than scared.

  What could he say? “Joe’s an alien, and I’m probably going to be killed or taken to his planet,” or, “The love of my life is about to be taken away and my heart is breaking, and I don’t know how to fight these enemies, or make the ending come out differently than I’m afraid it will. We probably don’t have much time to fight, but with all my strength, I’m going to try and make it come out all right.” Since he couldn’t decide what to say, he said all of that. By the end he felt tears running down his face.

  His mother said, “Michael, something is terribly wrong.”

  “I know, Mom. It’s going to take a lot of explaining, and I don’t have a lot of time. I wish I was there in person.” He got out a brief explanation about Jack’s future, Meganvilia and Ray helping, and what to do about his bank accounts.

  His mother interrupted. “An alien? Do you know what you’re saying? Michael, you’re not one of those crazies who wears tin hats. You’re the most sensible one in the whole family.” She paused. “That’s what worries me. Michael, what is going on?”

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll try to get back. Just remember. I love you and dad.”

  “Michael, stay on the phone.”

  Mike didn’t know what else to say. He hung up and turned off his phone. He shut his eyes, leaned back in the chair, and let it rock a few inches back and forth.

  “What did she say?” Joe asked.

  Mike opened his eyes. “I didn’t really give her much of a chance to say anything.” He drew a deep breath. “I cannot believe that might be the last time I talk to my mom.” He shook his head.

  Joe said, “There are people I’ve missed these past four years, six, if you count the years I was looking for the supposedly crazed scientist, but no one who was as close to me as your family is to you. I’m sorry it’s come to this.”

  “I’m not,” Mike said. “I’m glad I’m with you. I wish there was a better family solution, but there isn’t. Not now. Maybe later.” He shook his head. “I’m exhausted. I need some sleep.” The cabin was warm enough by this point so they could take off several layers of clothes. Joe came and sat on the floor in front of the rocker. He leaned his head against Mike’s legs. Joe said, “I wish this was the way we could be for all time.”

  Mike put his hand on Joe’s shoulder. Joe began to caress Mike’s leg, then his thigh. Mad passion overtook them.

  As a psych game in one of his advanced-degree classes, Mike had once been part of a group that was asked what they would do if they were told that in one hour a comet would hit the Earth and all life would be destroyed. No heroic movie epic efforts would save the planet. Many had said they would go to wild excess. A few had thought about prayer and forgiveness.

  Mike had said, “If I had one hour to live, I would want to spend it in the arms of the person I love.” He felt like that now. He tried to remember every caress he and Joe had ever shared. He let his fingertips trace every inch of the alien. He followed this with his tongue. Never in his life had sex been more intense or compelling or as satisfying as it was then.

  When finished, Mike lay panting. They were naked, chest to chest with Mike on top. He listened to the howling wind hammer at the log walls. Through the grates in the side of the Franklin stove, he could see the orange and red glow of the fire. Somehow the light they radiated was almost as comforting as the warmth they gave. He lay for a long time thinking about loving Joe, feeling his husband’s arms enfolding him, their skin touching at every possible point. He hoped against hope that he would see his parents and Jack again. He wiped a tear from his eyes.

  Mike wished that the bright new dawn light flooding the cabin portended new hope. Then he realized the light was growing much too quickly and was expanding faster than any sunrise.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  They leapt to their feet, threw on their clothes, and rushed to the windows. A brilliant yellow light infused the area around the cabin. The energy field around Mike and Joe glowed brighter blue.

  “We’re not getting out,” Joe announced.

  “What is it?” Mike asked.

  “A cage.” He pointed upward. “Their ship must be up there.”

  “They’re risking being seen by Earth radar?”

  “Apparently. I don’t know of any way to create that kind of field without it being detected. Although…” He shrugged. “Maybe they can do it some other way.”

  “Couldn’t you destroy their ship the same way you did the bounty hunter’s in that battle?”

  “I don’t have lightning, and their ship is more powerful.” Joe gasped and staggered. “Two ships.” Their blue auras held and Joe recovered in a few moments. He gathered all the communicators on top of the table. He said, “I wish I knew more about how theirs worked. I’d love to be able to get all of them going at once. I can give it a shot although this time I could inadvertently destroy a whole lot of this part of the planet.”

  “You’ve got to try something. We may be primitive, but we’re a very resilient planet.”

  “I intend to be very careful. Remember, I can’t hurt an Earthling. I just hope I can stop what I start.”

  “What is that yellow light?”

  “A prison cell more than anything else. They haven’t been able to douse your protection, but we aren’t going to be able to get out of that.”

  “Maybe my energy source can break through it.”

  “You could try.”

  They donned their extra layers of clothes for going outside. Then Mike took his communicator and marched to the front porch. Joe followed him. Mike reached out the tip of his finger to the yellow haze. It was like pushing against a stone wall. There was no wind, no cold, just a complete stillness, a lack of anything familiar, no smells, just an unearthly bit of time passing by.

  Mike tapped on his communicator. Joe tried to activate the others simultaneously. A minute of ethereal nothingness passed. Mike managed to deepen his aura to a vast dark blue, but the cage neither wavered nor faltered. “Not going to work,” Mike said.

  They retreated back into the cabin.

  “I didn’t see any of them,” Mike said.

  “They’re there.”

  “I wasn’t doubting that. I know nothing on Earth can produce this. I was making an observation, not making a fatuous comment of useless hopefulness.”

  “We can be irritated after we escape or get captured.”

  “I was wondering if not seeing them meant the ship was there.”

  “My sensors can no longer get beyond that cage, which is spectacularly sophisticated. I thought only the most advanced prisons for the most hardened criminal
s had them and that they took enormous quantities of energy to maintain. When Vov broke out of prison, he got through three separate sets of those cages. Getting through even one is unheard of.”

  “Why don’t we just call the local police?” Mike asked. “It’s daylight. If Earth radar isn’t picking this up, what happens if some local sees it and decides to investigate? What happens if we call the local cops and they stop by?”

  “Will they in this cold? Remember, my training is not to turn on my fellow creatures.”

  “My training is to survive.”