all the survivors could tell him were a lot of confused tales about armored men on horseback, giant wolves, and monsters.
Monsters. He’d thought better of them than that. They were supposed to be elite troops, the best soldiers of fortune that money could buy. And they ran away like a pack of frightened schoolgirls.
Robert shook his head, pacing the expensive carpet of his top-floor office. He knew they were good. They’d never failed him before. So what had really happened out there?
Before Campbell took off, she’d been babbling about elves and the hordes of faerie, but those things that had been in the park tonight certainly didn’t act like anything Robert had ever seen in a cartoon. Still, maybe she and her stupid telepath hadn’t been as crazy as he’d thought. Maybe there was something in what she’d been saying—maybe there were some kind of space aliens living here on earth, space aliens that had been the source for a bunch of legends about gods and elves and things, like that von Daniken guy said.
Robert relaxed, pleased to have thought his way through to the truth. That had to be it. Not elves. Space aliens. He’d have Dr. Ram turn Vickie Moon inside out to find out what else she knew.
Because whoever they are, they’re poking their pointy noses in where they’re not wanted, and if they can appear and disappear the way they’ve been doing, it won’t be long ­before they come here.
He sat down in the cushioned leather chair behind his desk and pushed a button. “Find Beirkoff and get him up here. Bring Moon. I don’t care what time it is. That’s what I pay you for.”
He sat back, thinking furiously. He was on the right track with T-Stroke, he knew it. That young guy who’d wandered into the middle of things—Elkanah said that this Aerune had spoken to him. If Aerune wanted him that badly, then so did Bob Lintel. The guy could obviously do everything the Survivors could do, and he didn’t seem to be in any danger s