The Peace War

'That close? Wow.' He looked away. 'So the problem is getting him down there. The Aztlan nobility is damned unpleasant about blacks coming in from the north, at least under normal circumstances.'

' `Normal circumstances'?'

'Yes. The North American Chess Federation championships are in La Jolla this April. That means that some of the best high tech people around are going to be down there legitimately. The Authority has even offered transportation to entrants from the East Coast, and they hardly ever sully their aircraft with us ordinary humans. If I were as paranoid as you, I would be suspicious. But the Peace seems to be playing it just for the propaganda value. Chess is even more popular in Europe than here; I think the Authority is building up to sponsorship of the world championships in Berne next year.

'In any case, it provides a cover and perfect protection from the Aztlan black or Anglo, they've never touched anyone under Peace Authority protection.'

Naismith found himself grinning. Some good luck after all the bad. There were tears in his eyes once more, but now for a different reason. 'Thanks, Mike. I needed this more than anything I've ever asked for.'

Rosas smiled briefly in return.

- Flashforward -

Allison didn't know much about plant identification (from less than one hundred kilometers anyway), but there was something very odd about this forest. In places it was overgrown right down to the ground; in other places, it was nearly clear. Everywhere a dense canopy of leaves and vines prevented anything more than fragmented views of the sky. It reminded her of the scraggly second growth forests of Northern California, except there was such a jumble of types: conifers, eucalyptus, even something that looked like sickly manzanita. The air was very warm, and muggy. She rolled back the sleeves of her flight fatigues.

The fire was barely audible now. This forest was so wet that it could not spread. Except for the pain in her leg, Allison could almost believe she were in a park on some picnic. In fact, they might be rescued by real picnickers before the Air Force arrived.

She heard Quiller's progress back toward her long before she could see him. When he finally came into view, the pilot's expression was glum. He asked again about her injury.

'I — I think I'm fine. I pinched it shut and resprayed.' She paused and returned his somber look. 'Only...'

'Only what?'

'Only... to be honest, Angus, the crash did something to my memory. I don't remember a thing from right after entry till we were on the ground. What went wrong anyway? Where did we end up?'

Angus Quiller's face seemed frozen. Finally he said, 'Allison, I think your memory is fine — as good as mine, anyway. You see, I don't have any memory from someplace over Northern California till the hull started busting up on the ground. In fact, I don't think there was anything to remember.'

'What?'

'I think we were something like forty klicks up and then we were down on a planetary surface — just like that.' He snapped his fingers. 'I think we've fallen into some damn fantasy.' Allison just stared at him, realizing that he was probably the more distressed of the two of them. Quiller must have interpreted the look correctly. 'Really, Allison, unless you believe that we could have exactly the same amount of amnesia, then the only explanation is... I mean one minute we're on a perfectly ordinary reconnaissance operation, and the next we're... we're here, just like in a lot of movies I saw when I was a kid.'

'Parallel amnesia is still more believable than that, Angus.' If only I could figure out where we are.

The pilot nodded. 'Yes, but you didn't climb a tree and take a look around, Allison. Plant life aside, this area looks vaguely like the California coast. We're boxed in by hills, but in one direction I could see that the forests go down almost to the sea. And...'

'And?'

'There's something out there on the coast, Allison. It's a mountain, a silver mountain sticking kilometers into the sky. There's never been anything on Earth like that.'

Now Allison began to feel the bedrock fear that was gnawing at Angus Quiller. For many people, the completely inexplicable is worse than death. Allison was such a person. The crash — even Fred's death — she could cope with. The amnesia explanation had been so convenient. But now, almost half an hour had passed. There was no sign of aircraft, much less of rescue. Allison found herself whispering, reciting all the crazy alternatives, 'You think we're in some kind of parallel world, or on the planet of another star-or in the future?' A future where alien invaders set their silvery castle-mountains down on the California shore?

Quiller shrugged, started to speak, seemed to think better of it — then finally burst out with, 'Allison, you know that... cross near the edge of the crater?'

She nodded.

'It was old, the stuff carved on it was badly weathered, but I could see... It had your name on it and... and today's date.'

Just the one cross, and just the one name. For a long while they were both silent.