Tracker collapsed into a seat on the lower deck of the airbus. “Let’s get out of here, Captain,” Scott ordered. The airbus took off, putting up its invisibility screens again.
”Non! We must go back! I forgot the Doctor! He is waiting for me to come to get him,” Antoinette cried, springing to her feet. The vehicle checked its acceleration, hovering. Scott started to ask a question.
”Team Leader, FORCE incoming, west northwest,” Captain Jones said.
Scott hesitated a second, then asked, “Where is he waiting?”
”Over there, by the little house near the fence,” Antoinette said, pointing out the open door.
”Captain. Small building next to the fence, three o’clock. Touch down.”
The airbus pivoted, settling next to the pump house. Antoinette sprang out, running across the grass.
Dr. Moreaux stepped out from the shadow of the building as she approached. “Come, Doctor. This way. Hurry!” she said, taking one of the infants from his arms. There was a flicker, then the airbus appeared, floating an inch above the grass. “In there, quickly.”
He followed her inside. “Hi, Fath’r,” Tracker called, waving his hand. Relief that his son was alive brought tears to the old man’s eyes.
”Jay,” Scott ordered. “Take these people upstairs and get them belted in. Captain, get us out of here.” The airbus surged up from the ground and shot off.
He touched the microphone at his throat. “Sasha, you’re on your own. We’ll wait for you a little ways out. Help FORCE clean this place up, then give us a call and we’ll home you in.”
Marsha heaved a sigh and smacked her fist into her open palm. “Made it! Chalk one up for the good guys.”
Scott dialed a new frequency and called Base. “Scott. Let me talk to Magnum or Colonel Carfield, please.” After a minute, Magnum came on the line. “Magnum,” Scott said. “Complete success. We have Tracker and Antoinette, both alive. He was being held by a paramilitary organization. We broke them out and FORCE is arriving to mop up the remains.”
”Excellent, Scott, excellent!” Magnum said.
”Normally,” Scott said, “we would join FORCE in the clean-up. However, with the strange things going on at FORCE, I don’t think that would be a very wise thing to do. I have Sasha working with them to finish up, then I intend to have her home in on us. When she gets back, we’ll leave, without even a courtesy call. Any orders, sir?”
”None,” Magnum said. “You’re the ones on the hot seat. Your primary orders are to retrieve Tracker and Antoinette, and return them to Base. Contact me again once you’re in route and everyone is settled down. Use your private comm.”
”Very good, sir,” Scott said. “We’ll be on our way back in an hour or so, unless I call you with an update.”
”Very well, Scott. Magnum out.”
Marsha turned as Tracker hiccoughed. “Tracker, into the auto-doc and let’s dry you out.”
”I’m not hurt,” he protested, “‘n I’m not wet, too.” He raised his arm and studied it carefully. “Yes, I am wet,” he observed gravely.
”Antoinette,” Marsha said. “Get that sozzled fox of yours in there and let’s get him sapient again, huh?”
Antoinette whispered into Tracker’s ear, caressing the fur on the back of his neck. A huge grin spread over his face. “Sure, ‘Nette,” he said, staggering over to the auto-doc.
Several minutes later, it released him, all the alcohol and related toxins removed from his system. He stood up, clear-eyed and sober again. He took her hands, looking deep into her eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered.
She leaned her forehead against the fur of his chest. “I told you,” she said, with a little catch in her voice. “I will never let you go. Never!” They were silent for several minutes, just holding each other.
”Marsha?” Antoinette said, holding Tracker’s hands. “When the Capitaine lands the airbus, could he do so near a stream? Tracker and I must wash.”
Marsha grinned. “Yeah. The two of you look like refugees from a third-rate slasher flick.”
Antoinette looked puzzled. “I beg pardon?”
Marsha laughed, shaking her head. “You look a mess.”
”Oui,” Antoinette agreed, nodding.
”While we’re waiting, I want you to hop into the auto-doc. You look like you’ve been missing a few vitamins here and there.”
Obediently, she lay down on the narrow bed. Marsha closed the canopy over her. The med unit hummed for a minute, then the canopy opened and Antoinette sat up, swinging her long legs over the edge. “I feel much better, Marsha. Thank you.” She still looked gaunt and tired, but the dullness had left her skin and eyes.
Marsha glanced at the readout screen. “I should hope you feel better. A complete vitamin complex, minerals, electrolytes, and a slug of glucose. It practically rebuilt you from scratch.
”Now, why don’t you and Tracker take a shower and get cleaned up.”
”Ah, oui, there is the shower on the airbus?”
”Yeah. Be sparing with the water, though. We can replenish it tomorrow, but we’ll need some for breakfast and drinking.”
Tracker washed first, standing half-in, half-out of the cubicle. He scrubbed at the caked blood on his chest and muzzle while Antoinette groomed the fur of his back. After the last of the dried blood had been washed away, he turned off the water and shook vigorously. Then he backed out and let her have the shower. She bathed quickly, enjoying her first shower since she had left the base. Then she stepped out, wringing water out of her hair. He stepped out of the bathroom and handed her a towel, She followed him out into the control room as she dried off.
