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Despite their grumbling, all had departed more relaxed and reassured. And why
shouldn't they? There was no reason for the most skeptical of them, not even
the extraordinarily perceptive Martin Oristano, to suspect that the Authority
staff had been lied to for the first time in two hundred years.
* * *
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"Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts. We are beginning our
descent into the London area."
Eric complied. He was anxious to resume his search for Lisa. The flight had
provided him with time to reflect, and he'd decided that the best way to try
to pick up her trail here was by repeating his visit to the local Colligatarch
Terminal and asking the same questions he had in Nueva York.
He leaned against the cool window glass. There wasn't much to see. Rain
covered the British Isles this time of year.
Don't worry, Lisa, he thought confidently. They can't hide you from me
forever. I won't let them keep us apart. If necessary I'll follow you around
the world. Or off it. .
Touchdown was a gentle bump, the shriek of the jets as the pilot backthrusted
only slightly deafening.
The steward moved through the cabin asking everyone to please keep their seat
belts fastened until the plane came to a complete stop. As usual, he was
ignored. The plane taxied toward the terminal and slowed. Frowning, Eric
joined his fellow passengers in staring out at the rain-slicked tarmac.
"There'll be a brief delay, ladies and gentlemen." The pilot didn't try to
hide the irritation in his voice.
"Some trouble with the ramp. I'm told they'll have it fixed in a minute. If
you'll all relax, we'll be deplaning shortly."
Eric leaned back against his seat and read through the last of the in-flight
magazine. When it began to repeat itself he turned it off by pushing the tiny
teletext screen back into the armrest of his seat.
He was almost looking forward to confronting Lisa's captors. The giddy feeling
of invulnerability, though dangerous, was exhilarating. He let it flow through
him, because it was better than feeling the fear.
Up the aisle on his side of the cabin a woman was leading her young daughter
back from the forward restroom. The most peculiar expression suddenly
transformed the woman's face. It hung there like a bad taste until she
unexpectedly dropped to her knees. When she fell over on her side, the
passengers nearest her moved to help.
The little girl was able to cry, "Mommy, mommy!" and bend over the unconscious
woman for a second before her own eyes rolled up and she fell on top of her
mother. She was joined by the men and women who'd left their seats to try to
help.
The progressive collapse of everyone seated forward led to an inescapable and
frightening conclusion, and Eric was up out of his seat racing for the rear of
the plane even as the realization struck home.
Around him, the rest of the passengers were slumping in their places. He held
his breath and his face reddened. All he knew was that he had to get off the
plane fast.
He'd reached the stern exit and was grabbing at the emergency door release
handle when whatever it was that had laid low his fellow travelers finally
caught up with him. He stood swaying for a moment, trying to focus on the
suddenly elusive handle. It danced maddeningly in front of him and refused to
stay in one place. His eyes began to water. He made a convulsive stab for the
handle and missed, his fingers puncturing the inner wall of the door but only
bending the titanium alloy beyond.
Then it was quiet as death.
Five minutes passed before the forward door popped open. Figures entered,
moving slowly while inspecting every quiescent body. Occasionally a passenger
who'd fallen into the aisle had to be gently lifted and returned to an empty
seat.
The intruders were completely encased in suits of flexible silvery material
that was transparent from the
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