Independence Day: Crucible (The Official Prequel) Read Online Free PDF Page A

she pleaded. “Just one more?”
    “You’ve already said that twice,” he said, “and I’ve given in twice. Anyway, you’ve seen all of these ten times.”
    That was true. Patricia remembered that, not so long ago, there were all sorts of things on TV. Now they just had a few video tapes they watched over and over again. She liked it anyway, and looked forward to nightly TV with her daddy, because it made her feel safe. Like nothing had changed.
    Even though everything had changed.
    He turned off the television.
    “Can I stay in here with you?” she asked. “I don’t want to go to my room. I don’t want to be alone.”
    He nodded, sighed, and tousled her hair. “Sure,” he said.
    “And can we leave the bathroom light on?” she pleaded.
    “Yes ma’am,” he said. He got up and turned off the bedroom light, turned on the bathroom light, and half closed the door.
    “Daddy?” she said. “When do we get to go back to our old house?”
    “Patricia,” he said, very gently. “Haven’t we talked about this?”
    “I know,” she said, “but I really want to go back there. I’m tired of being underground.”
    “But we can’t, sweetheart,” he said. “Not yet. Our old house is gone—but you know what? We’re going to build a new one, right where it was before. You just have to wait a little while.”
    “How long?” she asked.
    “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve already talked to some very important people about it, and we should get started soon.”
    “Nobody is more important than you, Daddy,” she said.
    He smiled. “Well, I’m glad you think so, but everyone is important, you know. Now get some sleep.”
    She settled under the covers, closed her eyes and tried to imagine what their new house would be like. Maybe they could have a trampoline room this time. But no matter what else the new house had, there was one thing it wouldn’t have.
    Mommy. Because Mommy was asleep, and she wasn’t going to wake up.
    Patricia wept a little, but quietly. She was tired, and soon fell asleep anyway.
    What woke her, she wasn’t sure at first, but then her father screamed again, and she knew. He was sitting straight up in the bed, and his eyes were open, like he was staring at something horrible, but there was nothing there.
    “Daddy!” She grabbed his arm, and felt her heart pounding in her chest. He didn’t look at her, but he didn’t scream again—he just sat, breathing hard, looking at nothing. His lips were moving a little, but he wasn’t saying anything.
    Someone knocked on the door.
    “Are you okay, sir? Sir?”
    “Daddy!” Patricia said again.
    He blinked, and put his hand to his forehead. He looked down at her, and over to the door.
    “It’s okay,” he said. “Just a nightmare. I’m alright.” He patted her arm. “I’m okay,” he said.
    * * *
    Hiller was still trying to sort up from down when something tried to knock all of his guts out. Everything went very white, like an overdeveloped photograph, and for a moment he couldn’t remember what was happening. Then it came back to him and he groped for his sidearm. The air was thick with the stink of burning jet fuel.
    As his sight came back and the spinning in his head slowed a bit, he managed to detach his parachute and begin to get his bearings. With any luck, he had come down on the Russian side of the situation.
    No, it seemed he’d used up a lot of his luck escaping the alien mother ship.
    He had landed on the roof of a two-story building, which was probably the only reason the ETs weren’t swarming all over him. He lay flat, trying to assess the situation. The air was so full of smoke, there was at least a chance he hadn’t been seen yet, and he wasn’t in a hurry to help them spot his location.
    He didn’t see any F-18s. He hoped they hadn’t all been blown out of the sky.
    Through the smoke, he saw aliens, lots of them, decked out in their exoskeletons. Still no sign that they knew of his whereabouts, or that he had