(06) Bye Bye Bethaus


As soon as Bethaus switched off the AV he knew he'd made a mistake not checking the logging road again on his way out, and Bethaus was not a man who forgave himself mistakes. Because of this, he didn't forgive other people for his mistakes, either, and their complicity in his humiliation was likely to cost them a brutal beating.

The blue Saab wasn't even concealed. It was sitting in plain view at the main trailhead at Masterson County Park. "What insufferable arrogance," Bethaus said. "Can you beat it?" The other three agents chuckled appreciatively and muttered affirmation as they got out of the black sedan and set their Tasers to "animal control."

The Saab was unlocked and the Tech, a slender, baby-faced man with the lobe missing from his left ear, did a cursory check, finding nothing of interest except a duffel bag in the trunk containing, nestled among the clothes and toilet articles, a book entitled, "Taiji at the Speed of Electricity." He showed it to the driver. "Let's see how bad Watts' taiji is when we hit him with Kills a Watts."

"Quit fucking around and let's go get him," Bethaus said. They complied quickly because nobody wanted to screw around with the big Indian, and nobody wanted to suggest that he might be more black than Indian. Whatever he was, Bethaus was impressively constructed, from his large, perfectly shaped shaved head to his massive, muscled frame. He was as close to a perfect specimen of human maleness as might be found, an opinion shared with him by an endless parade of lovers, female and male. He didn't think of the males as lovers because there was no love involved, just domination and humiliation. He liked the exercise of power, and his sexuality was subordinate to his sadistic nature. He was already thinking of how he might sexually humiliate Watts when he caught up with him.

He spoke calmly to the Tech. "Take a reading."

The Gopher, the agent in training, swung the soft case from his shoulder and undid the Velcro tabs. It looked like a rifle case but the instrument he pulled from it was more like a wand with a set of instrument readouts on a rectangular frame at one end. He handed it to the Tech, who powered it up and slowly scanned around them. "No body close enough for a read," he said.

"Let's go hiking, gentlemen," Bethaus said.

"It's going to be dawn in about three hours," the Tech said.

"You've got night glasses," Bethaus said. "Use them. Take a reading every thirty yards." The range of the body heat scanner was fifty yards, and it was sophisticated enough to estimate the size of the target. It eliminated everything smaller than the body mass it was set for, which was derived from a man approximately five foot eight and two hundred and twenty pounds, and everything decidedly larger than the target. That way it didn't read cattle, deer, or small animals.

They searched for two hours before Bethaus finally called it off and they sat down at the base of a hill to rest. "He's not here," he said. "He's either gone into the residential area, where the scanner's going to be worthless, or they left the Saab here and were picked up by a contact, in which case we lost them."

"They could be in a shelter of some kind," the Tech said. "This thing won't read accurately through walls. They could be underground. Agent Orange said it might be a drug operation, so there's no reason not to think their location is hidden."

"We walked all over this goddamned park," Bethaus said. "I didn't see anything." He was looking directly at the hole in the side of the hill. The information came in through his eyes, but in the process of being evaluated and colated it was placed in a special section of his memory reserved for things that are unrelated to the existing reality map. The same process occurred in each of the four men. They could see it but they couldn't realize they were seeing it.

They had the same problem with the huge, saucer-shaped craft that was moving slowly downward from Space. The bottom of the craft was pure black, and absorbed any light that struck it. It reflected back nothing. It was a hole in the sky, and in the same way that the perfect, glowing hole in the base of the mountain was eliminated by negative hallucination, the missing hole in the sky was filled in by positive hallucination. Had the sensors on the saucer operated as usual, they would have begun to feel uncomfortable and disoriented, and they would have gone back to their car and driven the road, checking for Watts in other locations.

It was necessary that they leave because the Mother Ship was preparing for re-energization of the reactors.

There was just one problem.

The sensors had been programmed to collect any extraordinary specimens of human maleness, and they were lingering on Bethaus. The sensors were more like a nervous system than a computer, and were capable of highly complex thought processes, such as, "We can't take just the specimen." The instructions were that any specimen taken was to be taken under circumstances where there was no witness. This was only overridden if the specimen fit into parameters of "perfect specimen."

Bethaus fit into the parameters. He didn't move when the light shone down on them from above. He had never had a religious experience before, and at first he resisted. Then his three agents melted into little heaps of burned clothing and stinking remains, and he suddenly got the call. He fell down on his knees and he said, "I'm sorry, Lord."

As he watched, a green appendage began to extend from the Mother Ship. It was perfectly round, and seemed to have solidity as well as shape. It extended from the ship and toward the side of the mountain, entering into the suddenly visible round hole with perfect precision. There was a high pitched, whining noise as it burrowed into the passageway. Bethaus watched dumbly, wondering how he could have not seen the hole in the base of the mountain where it entered.

Then a dark ray shot from the bottom of the ship and hit him like a hammer. The analogy of being hit by a hammer was the last abstract thought he had.

In a blink he was transferred to the onboard laboratory, where a surgical program instantly disconnected his frontal lobes, leaving him without the ability to abstract from the specific to the general. He lay on the table smiling dumbly as his testicles were removed and sperm samples taken. When the procedure was finished, he felt an intense warmth throughout his body. Having no ability to think beyond the moment, he was one with the incomprehensible pain that enveloped him.

Then his conversion experience was over. His DNA was stored and categorized in case the Masters of Prax needed Simulation Suits for a visit to the surface of Earth.

Posted: Sun - May 15, 2005 at 03:05 PM