Chasing Robes & Shadows

"But apparently Dave's not so happy about that anymore," Mel shrugged, "he said Asha didn't react well to it. But they all call me 'devil girl' so it's okay for me."

Ah. The combat-trained redhead thought Shaw. She would set some rules.

"But how does that---," Shaw started.

"Getting there," Chris said, "when we were looking up info to work out the orbit of that crashed satellite Mel looked up Peter and Carole in the newspaper microfiche. There wasn't much. It was like they disappeared into thin air and there's never been word from them and hardly anyone even noticed. We even found his ex-housemates, talked to them just after Thanksgiving. They've never heard anything, are certain he'd have dropped them a line if he could."

"And his family," Mel picked up the thread, "is pretty crap. But I guess you know all about them..."

Shaw snorted, nodded.

"But why do you keep talking about 'that satellite' that crashed? It was just a meteor."

The two youngsters looked at each other and Mel poked her chin at the pile of their coats between Chris and the wall. He reached over and revealed a small pack, opened it and pulled out a video cassette and handed it across.

"Watch this. It'll explain it. But hide that, don't take it out until you're at home. And make sure your blinds are closed. But, there are two more still in orbit, we proved it."

Shaw raised an eyebrow but she'd dealt with informants before, decided that was the best way to proceed here. She slipped the cassette into the small bag she'd been told to bring. He followed with an enlarged picture and set it on the table.

"See this fuzzy line?" Mel traced her finger across what Shaw recognized as Jupiter. It took her a few moments but then she saw it, an arc across the lower quarter of the planet.

"My drudge here took this when we were up in the Uintas," Chris snorted at Mel's description, "we have others but this one is about the best. That tape is our press conference last September at Mt. Mallomar observatory with their astronomers. These satellites are almost invisible. We have theories how they do that, but well, not go into that here.."

"Press conference? Never made the news..."

"Of course not. Black Cloud here blew up a star the same day we did it. That's all the news cared about."

Mel reached over and play-punched Chris on the shoulder at that. Shaw heard a laugh over her shoulder and turned, saw Rose set the plate of fries down in the center of the table.

"Refills?" Chris and Mel both shook their heads at their half-full Coke glasses. Rose left them as she carried a second plate to her next stop.

"Black Cloud?" Shaw edged toward the opinion that junkies made more sense than these two.

"First night I was in town, he takes me up to a park on the hills to show me the lights across the valley. He'd made me get my tits out and was molesting me when we saw the flaming satellite fly across the sky."

"Molest?" Shaw said slowly.

"That's ok, I was molesting him back."

"Right. Sure. That was, what, late June?"

"Yup."

Shaw thought back. Like most others, she'd been surprised to learn the force had moldy folders describing assistance protocols had a city been hit. But they hadn't been needed as it crashed in about as empty a spot as could be found in the country. That had been lucky. Then the army had declared it a radioactive no go zone.

"So he's Black Cloud. Even his family calls him that. He crashed a satellite and blows up stars because he knows I'm obsessed with astronomy and it turns me on so he can get into my pants."

Shaw smiled, sipped her tea. It was cooling. These two were... entertaining. Insane, but entertaining. That star, the supernova, had been all over the news back in September. It had caused issues with satellites and ozone and still caused intermittent interference for their radios. Only that last issue was ever on her mind. Chris returned the photo to his pack.

"This is all wild," Shaw said, "but what does it all have to do with Peter and Carole?"

"The aliens, the ones in those satellites, kidnapped him. Carole was helping them."

Chris picked up the discussion while Shaw stared open-mouthed at the pair.

"With the Mallomar folks we worked out they've been up there ten years or so. But they'd have had us under observation lots longer, probes and the like. We don't know for sure where they're from--"

"I'm pretty sure I know where," Mel said firmly, "that star that blew up. They're from there, escaping. Need a new home. Earth."

"But they need more info about us humans. Why not recruit beautiful spies like Carole. Succubesses. They seduce men like Peter, who are smart, know all of our technology and don't have families who'll make a big fuss if they disappear."

Shaw sipped again at her tea while the pair munched on fries and sucked up their cokes. She thought back on what she'd found about Carole. Almost nothing. Orphan, suspected of prostitution in Colorado but nothing definite before she'd come to the Uni. She'd just seemed to be a student who, like Peter, had overcome some rough times. But Peter's description of her appearance and her behavior didn't deny this theory.

"But why kidnap him? If they have invisible satellites can't they just spy?"

"They have plans," Mel's voice was again firm.

Chris rummaged in his pack again, glanced around and pulled out some pictures. He put the first one down, she recognized them as the couple from the Broiler incident. Dave's friends, the tall, broad man and his almost as tall dark haired girlfriend with the ridiculously pale skin and strange voice in what she guessed were Halloween costumes, he a barbarian with a huge sword strapped across his back, she was a red, white and blue Amazon warrior in knee-high boots. Near naked, his muscled six-foot plus frame was clear and impressive, she gave away only a couple of inches and her figure was even more impressive in what was little more than a bustier and all of that exposed skin was indeed pale, very pale, like she'd never exposed it to the sun. The odd set of her eyes reminded Shaw of her strange accent, her heritage and upbringing had to be some exotic mix.

"Anna...," Shaw said softly.

"The guy is our friend Bobby and yeah, that's his girlfriend Anna. She claims her parents were church missionaries and she was born in Africa and grew up with them moving around the world until they finally settled in Nashville when she was a teen."

"Ok," Shaw said as she looked at the couple's picture, "I couldn't place her accent because she has too many, that upbringing would do it."

"But that's just a story. She's an alien. From another planet."

"Um, what?" Shaw's head snapped to look at Mel, her thoughts hadn't implied anything THAT exotic.

"She calls herself 'Anna Miller,'" Mel said, "and we're pretty sure she drives Peter's old Boss 351 Mustang. Carole was helping them somehow make women like her. Because..."

Chris shuffled that picture and exposed a second one before she could interject about their claim. Shaw's jaw dropped when she saw it. She was glad Chris spoke because she couldn't.

"We're guessing," Chris said, "they look like this. So somehow they're altering themselves or humans. We don't know yet."

"Anna...," Shaw finally mastered her voice.

The photo was from their waists, and apparently, a male on the left from her view and a female around whose shoulders the male's left arm rested. At least, the one had breasts, under some sort of beige short-sleeved one-piece jumpsuit garments. The bodies were reasonably human in proportion and shape except for their faces and skin. The female was maybe an inch shorter but no scale, the background an unmarked gray wall but her trained guess had the male a couple of inches short of six feet by proportions. The female's hair was more red than blonde but still a mixture, the male's closer to brown, both cut short. That same cat's nose that she remembered from five years back, the pointed ears, almost no lips. The eyes were more oval than round and had no whites, both sets of eyes were... golden. They had golden eyes. Neither had a port wine stain but what pale skin she could see had a very subtle pattern, like paisley cloth but not colored, just striations. Each had some sort of watch on their left wrists.

Like Anna had worn those years ago.

"Anna? Anna was the other picture...," Mel said, for the first time not assured.

"No," Shaw said, her composure recovered, "five years ago Halloween. Peter wasn't with Carole but was with a woman named Anna. Another Anna. Has Dave seen this?"

"Um, no," Chris said slowly, "just our friend Sam. She used to just think we're crazy, now she knows we are. My other two housemates know most of the story but haven't seen this either."

Shaw chuckled and put her finger on the female in the picture.

"That first Anna looked like this, mostly. She had..."

Shaw's voice trailed off as a mood somewhere between anger and sadness welled up.

"It was Halloween," she snapped, "everyone thought it was a costume. Long hair, strawberry blonde. And Peter told me she had heterochromia, two different colored eyes, one was green, and a port wine stain. Here."

She rubbed her left cheek.

"She had this same kind of reddish-blonde hair, but more blonde than this picture, and longer. Months before he disappeared. He was really attracted to her. He... had a thing about heterochromia. And she had great tits," Shaw continued, "so ok, your friend, this new Anna, I saw her and Bobby at the Broiler. She does have one hell of a rack."

"Mine are pathetic next to hers," Mel sniffed, "and apparently Dave doesn't think I compare to Carole's either!"

"And Jayne, the Cat," Chris added, "she's got a hell of a set too."

At that Mel's elbow in his ribs forced out a grunt but he laughed.

"Dave swears," Shaw said slowly, "that Jayne was disguised as a Cat and was Anna's driver that Halloween way back when."

"She makes a great Cat! And she was with Carole," Mel said, "the day before they disappeared."

"But since she filmed us she seems like she's avoiding us," Chris said, "but we know she and Anna hang out."

"Yeah," Shaw said, "they were at the Broiler together during that robbery and all that."

"Oh, yeah, Bobby told us about it. He was really pissed he didn't get to take anyone down."

"Probably for the best," Shaw's best voice of Authority, "but how the hell did you get this picture?"

"It's my birthday party tomorrow night," Chris said, "come to our place and we'll show you. It's kinda, well, sensitive. But it's a costume party."

"And we're being watched," Mel said firmly, "need to be careful. I mean, I like people watching, I even like the aliens watching us, you know, but for some things..."

Shaw took a moment to mull the girl's statement, glanced at the barely obscured nipples, and laughed lightly. Yes, the girl, both of them, liked people watching. She knew the parties they'd be VERY popular at.

"How?"

"They have invisible, well, stealth, little probes. About the size of soccer balls, they fly around and can hover in one spot."

Chris shuffled the pictures once more, revealed a fuzzy, out of focus landscape.

"I know what I'm doing with a camera," Chris said, "I took the space pictures. But this is all I get trying to get these damn spy balls."

"Shit...," was all Shaw managed. She'd have dismissed all of this but these pictures connected her dots with thick black lines. Who would've guessed fuzzy, out of focus shapes would be the linchpins?

She had a nice bottle of Cab-Sav at home, it was a night in with that or a party with a bunch of Uni students. Including at least one maybe alien, it seemed, and maybe an alien spy.

"Wait," Shaw said, "these are invisible?"

"It's stealth, not really invisibility," Chris said, "hard as hell to see but not impossible. We've only ever seen one at a time, no idea how many but they seem to check us out now and again."

"Like I said, given 'em a couple of shows," Mel's rasp deepened and her hand shifted high on Chris's left thigh, "they stuck around until we were finished. Probably got that on continuous loop somewhere."

Shaw blinked and shook her head, grinned but went serious.

"Think they follow this new Anna around? If she is what you say?"

The pair nodded, Mel added, "probably sometimes at least."

"Like at the Broiler? I can't explain why a nimble young sneak thief slash drug dealer fell through a roof hatch. Broke his neck."

"Yeah, Jayne's reports mentioned that."

"Could've been an accident. But he had some wound on the back of his head. Autopsy said he probably hit it on the ladder when he broke his neck. But I wonder. If one of those hit him on the back of the head, could they do that?"

Mel and Chris looked at each other then back at her.

"I'd guess," Chris said slowly, "pretty sure they're likely metal of some sort. Might be heavy, use some sort of anti-gravity. They fly, don't float like balloons."

Shaw finished her tea to take time to think.

"Thanks."

Maybe someone would hold up a bank or something and she could forget all this and just chase normal criminals. Not aliens apparently intent on invading Earth.

A Masqued Ball

[March 1, 1986]

Shaw stood next to her car and looked into the shadowy realm of the forested Bonneville Glen lit only by the parking lot streetlights. Chris and Mel claimed they'd found a spot in that maze-like grove that climbed the hillside that Peter and Carole had frequented. It had been searched half a decade ago. 'Nothing had been found.' These kids had snorted and said 'we're better.'

One more promise for a late winter evening that was dry and even a few degrees above freezing.

She'd parked here and as she made the short walk to the house didn't see Anna's Mustang. The VIN Chris had given her had checked out, it had been Peter's. Repainted now from Chris's description, the ownership since his disappearance had been a confused string of trusts which trailed into other trusts, some associated with the First Presleyterian Church of the Divine Pompadour before landing with one Anna Miller. Except for that church she'd heard of such trusts from other investigators mainly concerned with financial fraud or high-society divorce cases. Not for the only real asset a dirt poor college student owned. She'd been pleased Peter had acquired it legally and rebuilt the engine himself to make it roadworthy according to the seller whom she'd contacted. But she'd need to engage an expert to unwind this hairball and if she did that questions would be asked. Unwanted questions.

Maybe a direct question to the current owner would get a straight answer, after all, Mel and Chris had told her that strange young woman claimed a connection to that church. Shaw had been told Jayne too had been invited but she'd be late, she didn't have this Saturday night off. Scuttlebutt from the Broiler investigation said she might be on the way to that nationwide cable-only news channel soon, her profile was so bright.

The sounds of Shaw's footfalls were clear from her boots, her 'costume' was an unneeded Class B uniform, it was old and had been loose but now snug but not uncomfortable. The low boots weren't regulation. She'd also left her service weapon in its safe in the trunk but had a revolver in an ankle holster, the slightly flared trousers had been designed with that in mind. She hoped she wouldn't need it but there were enough wild cards in play she figured better safe than sorry. She'd left behind other accessories as well and had only a pair of handcuffs latched onto her belt, mostly to add to the effect of the 'costume' but of practical use as well.

Just in case.

What might neighbors think of a uniformed officer showing up? It'd be the talk of this cute street full of good houses and nice families for a while, she hoped.

She had no plans to get drunk and undercover experience had taught her how to stretch a single drink to last most of the night and make it look like she'd had a few. Mel had also promised her that there might be 'options' if she didn't want to go home alone. Yes, that girl would be very welcome at certain parties. Maybe she should dump the force and rep her and her boy to such reprobates as held those parties.

"Oh, uh, Officer," said the very cute redhead a few inches shorter than her who opened the door after Shaw rang the doorbell. She was curvy and had a high-necked long diaphanous white gown with lots of creases, white flats and a halo. The sounds of conversations behind her but out of sight.

"I'm Joyce, Joyce Shaw, Chris and Mel invited me," she told the angel. As the gown shifted with her movement it was obvious she had a g-string on under it. And nothing else. Oh hell, it was THAT kind of party. She should've worn some of her old undercover vice gear.

Shaw smiled. The angel. From the video. This was the same girl. Just a different costume.

"I was told it's a costume party, unless that's what you wear every Saturday," Shaw offered her best undercover smile as the redhead's face worked through a couple of expressions before she nodded.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, your costume is very, um, authentic, I'm Sam. My uncle and cousin are both police officers in San Francisco."

Lost my undercover mojo, thought Shaw, not even in the door and someone's already made me. She'd deftly handled any manner of criminals but once again this crew had managed to easily throw her off balance.

"Oh, hey, come in," Sam stepped back and Shaw entered and looked around. A thin young woman almost as tall as Shaw and with very short sandy slicked back hair and wearing a tuxedo met her and reached out a hand.

"Teresa," she said as Shaw took her hand, "Teresa Bond."

"Joyce Shaw. I brought a bottle of wine, I guess some of you are old enough."

She handed it to Teresa.

"Most of us. Except Mel. She's crazy enough without it. Ah, I like Cab Sav, and it's in a bottle! Geez Sam, you're from California and you never bring me wine in actual glass bottles. Just boxes."

The redhead stuck out her tongue and blew a loud raspberry.

Shaw looked around. Yes. This was where the Halloween video had been filmed. This room. Teresa seemed familiar. Most likely she'd been another in the background. But she didn't recognize anyone else but Teresa called someone over.

"Terry, c'here," a young man that Shaw immediately guessed was at least the secret agent's brother and possibly a twin turned his head, same thin build and sandy hair, and excused himself from his conversation with a couple of other guys about his age. His only concession to a costume was what looked like an old rugby jersey and faded jeans. She quickly reran her memory of the video.

"Terry Bingham, Joyce Shaw," the two shook hands, "Terry, show Joyce around and take her to Chris and Mel. And since Pam's not coming..."

Terry exhaled quickly at that and his eyes flashed at his sister but then he managed a sad smile.

"Think they're upstairs, we'll work our way there."

"Thanks," Shaw said and she followed the young man.

"Is she really a cop?" Shaw heard Teresa.

"Yup...,' Sam said and then Terry led her to a landing where one staircase went up and the other down and they could see into the kitchen.

"Plenty of drinks in the fridge in the kitchen or just outside this door there's a keg."

As soon as he took a breath she asked "Pam?"

It was Shaw's best 'I'm your friend' voice, her eye twitched when she realized it but too late now. The young man looked at her, seemingly surprised.

"My girlf..., ex. Ex-girlfriend. My sister shouldn't have..."

"Sorry," she kept the tone but it became heartfelt, "it doesn't get easier, believe me, but, we, well, make do. And ya know, siblings, can't live with 'em, mostly can't shoot 'em!"