The Final Call

by Craig A. Falconer

  “Please, put him on! After what he prevented at the Gravesen, I trust Dan fully on this and I know the Messengers are looking out for us. I can be as discreet as necessary, needless to say.”

  “That’s the thing, he doesn’t want to talk about any of this over the phone. Are you leaving Argentina in the next forty-eight hours, or is there maybe some way we can meet you there?”

  “Here is best,” Slater said enthusiastically. “Things are moving quickly, as I’m sure you know, and to be perfectly candid I don’t particularly want to leave our esteemed Chairman to respond to them without running them through my own filter. Everything he just said was the watered-down version, if you can believe that.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. “Only too easily. Godfrey can be there for the meeting too, though, if you want him to be. But when are we talking… does tomorrow work?”

  “Tomorrow works perfectly, and I do think it would be best if William is in on this. Will you need us to arrange a flight?”

  “No, Timo’s plane is still in Denver,” Emma said.

  “Of course. As I’ve said before, Dan is an important asset and I’ll personally make sure you can leave tonight, if any scheduling intervention is needed. I’d very much like you both to arrive in time for an early morning meeting, because with the pace of recent developments we could be looking at another damn triangle before too much longer.”

  The ensuing silence, which Emma knew Slater was leaving in the hope that she would make some kind of telling sound, ran even longer than the last.

  “But I do have one last question,” President Slater said, breaking the silence and sounding slightly flustered for the first time in the conversation. “Did Dan happen to say if the aliens mentioned anything about the chip in his neck, or maybe that they removed it? I didn’t hear about this contact event… so if our security services knew, then someone has decided to keep it from me.”

  “The Messengers became aware of the chip after last time and this time they worked around it,” Emma said, deciding that allowing preventable distrust to develop within Slater’s administration would be good for no one. “Things have changed on that front, regarding how they make contact, and that’s the main thing Dan wants to talk to you about. We do want these chips out, though.”

  “Of course. And something tells me I’d be wasting my breath if I asked for more details of Dan’s current thoughts,” Slater said, almost but not quite chuckling, “so I’ll save us both some time and not even try. But Emma, thanks for bringing this to me.”

  “We’ll see you tomorrow,” Emma replied, ending the call with no further platitudes.

  Still waiting for the GCC’s embattled Chairman to return to her side after his already wave-making speech, President Slater sat in quiet thought. With the third triangle still unaccounted for and tensions rising by the second, she could only hope that tomorrow wouldn’t come too late.

  V minus 51

  McCarthy Residence

  Birchwood, Colorado

  Recent years had seen Dan McCarthy get used to time passing in inconsistent ways, from the painful slowness of his days spent hoping for an alien intervention while searching for the elusive fourth plaque all the way to the whirlwind gone-too-fast days he’d spent with Emma during a fortnight in the Seychelles in the cool-down months that followed Contact Day.

  Never had a day passed more hazily than this one, however, when it seemed uncannily as though evening followed morning with nothing in between. The main event of Dan’s afternoon had been finding out that his imminent trip to Argentina would indeed begin with a hastily arranged late-night flight, which only served to deepen the feeling of being in limbo.

  The bulk of the day had involved yet another retelling of his latest contact experience and yet another attempted explanation of his new and seemingly superhuman ability. His audience was this time an audience of three, with his father Henry joined by Mr Byrd and Phil Norris. Phil had been a fixture in Birchwood since the early days of the leak but was now a closer member of Dan’s inner circle than in the past, joining the ever-present Mr Byrd in rounding out a small but important circle of support.

  These two men were almost polar opposites on the face of it, with Mr Byrd a clean-cut former sheriff’s deputy whose door was always open and Phil a rough-around-the-edges prepper who had ground out a living in a pawnshop for many years before the IDA leak turned his derelict drive-in lot into a license to print money. Henry McCarthy, very much the median personality of the three, had always been their common link; now, though, they were friends in their own right.

  Dan valued Mr Byrd’s calmness and clear head as much as he valued Phil’s no-filter reactions and often esoteric knowledge. If he’d been forced to guess their reactions, he would have called it perfectly; neither Mr Byrd’s advice to be careful nor Phil’s decision to immediately draw up a list of people who deserved to have their unspoken thoughts examined came as a surprise.

  Henry’s reaction had been harder to predict, but his succinct comment that he was proud of Dan for ‘doing the thing that was difficult but right’ meant a lot. A single-line statement of any kind of emotion from Henry was practically equivalent to a poem written in the clouds by anyone else, as a lifetime of experience had drummed into Dan, so he seized the words and carried them with him when it came time to leave.

  The only part of the day when he’d felt truly present was when he had fifteen minutes with Tara and sought to make sure she would be okay being left in Birchwood without Emma again, especially since Dan had known beyond doubt she was going through a difficult time ever since she uttered the D-word. He said she could go with them if she wanted to, but Tara politely declined.

  Emma had already invited her, she explained; but although it sounded like a more than interesting trip, she already had plans.

  “Oh yeah, that club opening thing,” he said, remembering what had been in her thoughts when he first listened. A smile crossed his face. “And that guy’s going to be there, Jayson Moore.”

  “A lot of different people are gonna be there,” Tara replied in a full-hearted but unsuccessful attempt to hide her motives. Try as she might, the smile gave it away.

  Dan smiled too; it was nice to see her happy and looking like herself. “Make sure to stay in touch with Clark, though, while we’re not around. Okay?”

  “Oh, I’ll be watching like a hawk,” Clark butted in, revealing his stealthy eavesdropping. “And as you can see, I’m a good listener, too.”

  “Cause that’s not creepy at all…” Tara chuckled.

  “But seriously,” he said, “just leave your phone’s GPS tracking on and authorise me as a friend or whatever you need to do for me to know where you are. I know Emma’s going to ask you to do that, because she already told me, so don’t give her any stress about it, okay? It’s not easy for her to leave you here just like it’s not easy for me to let them go without me, but it is what it is.”

  “Why aren’t you going, anyway?” Tara asked, wondering only now. “This isn’t like their pre-honeymoon when they wanted to be alone, and after what happened then I woulda thought you’d really want to be there to keep an eye on them this time?”

  Clark nodded. “Oh, I do. But I can’t be in two places at once, and they’ve always got each other… plus there’s going to be security at the airport and then government security as soon as they reach Argentina. The way the world is right now, though, things could go south in a heartbeat. And Tara, I’m not saying you need me to look after you or anything like that, but there’s not a chance in hell I’m leaving you here with no one. I’m not the guy who’s going to sit down and talk about feelings, but we all know you came back to Birchwood last month because you didn’t want to be alone… and I’m also not the guy who’s going to ditch you when you need someone.”

  “So there is one of you, after all,” Tara grinned, deflecting emotion with humour in an effortless way that would have made Clark himself proud. “Thanks, though; for real.”

  Th
e last thing Dan remembered before leaving was overhearing Mr Byrd’s preferred idea for a new contact-focused United Nations body with a rotating presidency and carefully designed voting structure. It was a nice idea in theory, but Dan and plenty of others knew only too well that even the most carefully designed voting structure in the world would mean nothing the very first time China or the United States decided to ignore a non-binding resolution as both had so many times in the past within other UN bodies.

  Clark insisted on driving to Denver, with Tara gladly going along for the ride and chatting to Dan in the back seat the whole time. Someone invariably commented each time a billboard for one of Tara’s fashion lines or outlets passed by, which happened more frequently than she could believe.

  Even Dan’s goodbye to Henry and the others had faded into a hazy cloud of absent memory as soon as the car’s tyres started rolling, and at one point he felt so absent that he hoped the Messengers’ recent intervention hadn’t changed more within his brain than he was already aware of. He didn’t want to raise this now when it would worry Clark and Tara, so he kept it to himself.

  His goodbyes to them were quick when the time came, but he was present enough to know that Emma’s goodbyes took a lot longer. He heard her and Clark imploring each other to stay alert and keep their wits about them, each essentially and somewhat reluctantly entrusting their younger sibling to the other. Clark had never made any secret of his view that Dan was too trusting to survive in the shark-filled waters of the media and politics without Emma diligently watching his path, but for once Emma was equally concerned about Tara. She was more worldly than Dan, for sure, but she hadn’t been herself recently and quite likely needed Clark’s presence to ensure her mental as well as physical wellbeing.

  “And Dan,” Clark called from the car window as a trio of uniformed police officers prepared to guide the couple through the airport to Timo’s plane, “remember what we said: five days at most, no matter what.”

  “No matter what,” Dan replied, gladly reaffirming the promise that he’d be back in Birchwood within that time frame regardless of how difficult it might prove to get a meeting with a high-ranking GeoSov like Poppy Bradshaw and regardless of what might happen with the as-yet undiscovered third triangle.

  “So what are you guys heading down there for, anyway?” a bold police officer asked a few seconds later. His colleagues could only admire the attempt.

  “We want to find out what’s really going on,” Emma said, keeping it simple.

  “You think they’ll tell you?” the man pushed, sounding hopeful.

  Emma looked at Dan, leaving this one for him.

  He grinned. “To be honest, officer, I don’t think they’re going to have much choice.”

  V minus 50

  Private Jet

  Denver to Buenos Aires

  “I’m getting too used to this seat,” Emma said, leaning back against the plush leather of Timo’s tastefully equipped jet.

  Sitting in his own increasingly regular seat for the third time in a week, having been to Italy and back far sooner than expected, Dan knew the feeling. His seat was diagonally behind Emma’s, for no reason other than habit; they moved around during flights, but their take-off positions had been set during their first time on-board in the aftermath of the Argentine sphere’s discovery. On that occasion Clark had filled the seat that now lay conspicuously empty next to Emma and in front of Dan, and in Dan’s mind that was still Clark’s seat.

  As the pilot and copilots performed their final checks, Dan sat silently and made a full-hearted but non-expectant attempt to communicate with the Messengers. He tried to focus on very specific questions, all the while touching his middle finger to his thumb just as they had showed him. He was even pointing his index finger upwards in case that would help, but try as he might, no kind of response came his way.

  “Crap!” Emma cried, cursing her own carelessness as a recently opened can of soda fell to the floor from the small table in front of her.

  Dan’s attention naturally followed the sound, as did his outstretched finger.

  Looking down at the can as gravity did its work, Emma’s expression suddenly changed from one of frustrated annoyance to one of awestruck amazement. Had she been able to tear her eyes away, she would have seen the same look in Dan’s. Because as his finger pointed at the can, frozen an inch from the ground, gravity’s work had ceased.

  Dan’s heart felt fit to burst through his chest, but he fought the urge to open his hand — the urge to break the connection — and instead tried to stabilise his breathing. After a few seconds he gulped the deepest gulp of his life and slowly raised his finger.

  Although a tiny part of him had thought or even known it would happen, nothing could have prepared Dan for the sight of the can positively levitating through the air and back towards Emma’s table. He held his finger until the can reached the surface, at which point he touched it down with only a slight spillage. Immediately, he opened his hand and stared down at his fingers.

  “Emma…” he uttered weakly. “What the hell did they do to me?”

  Even though the reality that the Messengers had granted Dan limited telepathic abilities had almost sunk in, and even though he and Emma had seen the Messengers themselves using telekinetic powers on more than one occasion, nothing could have prepared either of them for this.

  “It’s okay,” she said, successfully trying to sound a lot calmer than she was. “This is just like the other thing, Dan… you control it, it doesn’t control you. Remember that and everything will be fine.”

  “Yeah,” he replied, far less convincingly calm. “But I swear I didn’t know I could do that until now. And I wasn’t even trying! I think it just—”

  “Let’s just say you still don’t know you can do it,” Emma interrupted, cutting him off for his own good. “And let’s just say no one else ever will. Agreed?”

  “All the way,” Dan said, gazing at his fingers like they weren’t his own. “All the way.”

  Part 4

  Foreign Ground

  “Three things cannot be long hidden:

  the sun, the moon, and the truth.”

  Buddha

  MONDAY

  V minus 49

  GCC Headquarters

  Buenos Aires, Argentina

  Although spending a night in a plane was never ideal, the fully reclining seats of Timo Fiore’s private jet had at least allowed Dan and Emma a few hours of comfortable rest.

  It had been Dan’s decision to stay on board for several hours after landing; but with the recent foiling of an attack at the local Gravesen hotel still fresh in her mind, Emma readily agreed. They didn’t know how many more nights they would be in town — if any — but Emma had already raised the possibility of staying inside the impenetrable GCC compound itself if they did have to find somewhere.

  Dan saw the logic in that point. After all, if it was good enough for Godfrey…

  “Just remember what we talked about not talking about,” Emma said, speaking as a convoy led them through the streets of Buenos Aires like the visiting dignitaries they were.

  Dan didn’t like the ostentatious level of security and felt sure it was in place primarily to draw attention to his presence rather than to protect his person. Arriving on Timo’s plane ruled out any possibility of a discreet arrival, in any case, but it irritated Dan more than a little that Godfrey was trying to seize upon his visit as a PR opportunity for the GCC.

  With plans to visit John Cole in Cuba, though, Dan knew he would soon be enduring a far grander politically-motivated welcome than this. But the gain would justify the pain, he figured, safe in the knowledge that Cole’s unspoken thoughts would reveal the truth one way or the other.

  The one truth that Dan and Emma had agreed not to talk about in the meantime was the incredible realisation that as well as telepathy, the Messengers had recently granted Dan telekinetic abilities — intentionally or otherwise.

  Dan agreed wholeheartedly with the pla
n of keeping this close to his chest. The power at his fingertips troubled him deeply, and he could hardly imagine how others would look at him if they knew he could literally manipulate and move physical objects through the power of thought alone.

  Emma also wanted Dan to stay quiet about the telepathy; but although he would be only too glad to do so, he was far from sure that it would be possible. Without their understanding what could be gained, he found it difficult to imagine Godfrey and Slater permitting his planned meetings with Cole and GeoSov spokesperson Poppy Bradshaw. Dan, a natural worrier, couldn’t help but foresee worst-case scenarios of being held against his will once again or simply having his passport seized to prevent further foreign travel.

  Even Emma’s simply put argument that Slater and Godfrey wouldn’t commit political suicide by standing in Dan’s way failed to ease his mind, and in the end she told him to forget all about it and to let her talk them round if any convincing became necessary.

  The route to the GCC compound’s high-security entrance had seen a lot of traffic in recent days, and the streamlined arrival procedures meant that Dan didn’t encounter any of the protestors or demonstrators who were still gathered outside just as they were at other buildings of symbolic significance throughout the world. Whether governed by leaders aligned to the GCC or the ELF, citizens in dozens of countries were expressing their dissatisfaction at the growing schism by taking to the streets. Some Now Movement cells called for Ding Ziyang to immediately grant international access to the Zanzibar and Vanuatu triangles, which were still very mysterious having never been professionally photographed or filmed — at least not by anyone with an appetite to make the images public.