Strangers

Army? How were they to penetrate an iron wall of secrecy that had been forged in the name of national security, with the full power of the state and the law behind it?
        "We've put together enough to go public," Jorja Monatella said. "The deaths of Zebediah Lomack and Alan, the murder of Pablo Jackson. The similar nightmares that many of you have shared. The Polaroids. It's the kind of sensational stuff the media thrives on. If we let the world know what we think happened to us, we'll have the power of the press and public opinion on our side. We won't be alone."
        "No good," Ernie said. "That kind of pressure'll just make the military stonewall like hell. They'll construct an even more confusing and impenetrable cover-up. They don't crack under pressure the way politicians do. On the other hand, as long as they see us stumbling around on our own, fumbling for explanations, they'll be confident - which might give us time to probe for their weak spots."
        "And don't forget," Ginger warned, "apparently Colonel Falkirk advocated killing us instead of just blocking our memories, and we've no reason to believe he's mellowed since then. He was obviously overruled, but if we tried to go public, he might be able to persuade his superiors that a final solution is required, after all."
        "But even if it's dangerous, maybe we've got to go public," Sandy said. "Maybe Jorja's right. I mean, there's no way we can get inside the Thunder Hill Depository to see what's going on. They've got lots of security and a pair of blast-doors built to take a nuclear hit."
        Dom said, "Well, it's like Ernie told us… we'll have to just stay loose and search for their weaknesses until we find a way."
        "But it looks like they don't have any weaknesses," Sandy said.
        "Their cover-up has been falling apart ever since they brainwashed us and let us go," Ginger said. "Each time one of us remembers another detail, that's another gaping hole in their cover-up."
        "Yeah," Ned said, "but seems to me they're in a better position to keep patching the holes than we are to keep poking new ones."
        "Let's can the goddamn negative thinking," Ernie said gruffly.
        Smiling beatifically, Brendan Cronin said, "He's right. We must not be negative. We need not be negative because we're meant to win." His voice was again infused with the eerie serenity and certitude which arose from his belief that the revelation of their special fate was inevitable. At moments like this, however, the priest's tone and manner did not comfort Dom, as they were meant to but, for some odd reason, stirred up a sediment of fear and muddied his emotions with anxiety.
        "How many men are stationed at Thunder Hill?" Jorja asked.
        Before Dom or Ginger could respond with information they'd gleaned from the Sentinel, a stranger appeared in the doorway at the head of the stairs that led up from the motel office. He was in his late thirties, lean and tough-looking, dark-haired, dark-complexioned, with a crooked left eye that was not coordinated with his right. Though the downstairs door was locked, and although the linoleum on the stairs did nothing to quiet ascending footsteps, the intruder appeared with magical silence, as if he were not a real man but an ectoplasmic visitation.
        "For God's sake, shut up," he said, sounding every bit as real as anyone else in the room. "If you think you can plot in privacy here, you're badly mistaken."
        

        
        Eighteen miles southwest of the Tranquility Motel, at Shenkfield Army Testing Grounds, all the buildings - laboratories, administration offices, security command center, cafeteria, recreation lounge, and living quarters - were underground. In the blazing summers on the edge of the high desert and in the occasionally bitter winters, it was easier and more economical to maintain a comfortable temperature and humidity level in underground rooms than in structures erected on the less-than-hospitable Nevada barrens. But a more important consideration was the frequent open-air testing of chemical - and occasionally even biological - weapons. The tests were conducted to study the effects of sunlight, wind, and other natural forces on the distribution patterns and potency of those deadly gases, powders, and superdiffusible mists. If the buildings were aboveground, any unexpected shift in the wind would contaminate them, making unwilling guinea pigs