Talking to the Messengers mattered most of all, but there was certainly a pressing need to explain what had just happened so that speculative media narratives couldn’t take hold. Now more than ever, the last thing the world needed was suspicion about Dan or the Messengers.
Their arrival was a beacon of hope to Dan in the face of a powder-keg situation; but with minute-to-minute public perception more important than ever given the potentially catastrophic results of any military action a government might feel pressured to take, he knew it was absolutely crucial that hope was the only feeling radiating outward from Colorado.
“The Messengers granted me some telepathic abilities so they could reach me whenever they might have to,” he said, speaking very suddenly and immediately drawing everyone’s attention from the general sight of the remarkable forcefield and focusing it all upon himself. “The telekinesis came with it. I didn’t ask for any of these powers and I didn’t even agree to take this one… but here I am. I haven’t asked for any of this since the very beginning; I didn’t ask to find that damn folder on Winchester Street and I didn’t ask to be the Messengers’ conduit on Earth… but here I am.”
From the side of the car, Emma subtly signalled to Dan that she wanted to tell him something. He initiated a one-way mental connection with equal subtlety and immediately heard her suggestion. It made a lot of sense in his mind and he always trusted Emma’s instincts in such matters, so he acted upon it without delay.
Turning to the Messengers, Dan initiated a two-way connection with them — unsure if it was even necessary — and silently told them what he wanted them to do. In light of events in Havana, they agreed very quickly.
To Dan, their unhesitant cooperation to what were fairly major requests was a very clear sign that they understood the stakes… perhaps even better than he did.
“Terry,” Dan called to the police officer whose tetchiness had led to the escalation, “how about you come inside with me and take a look around. These guys are on our side, and one of them is willing to undergo some non-invasive tests just like we saw happening in Havana. Scans, measurements, things like that. We’re in this together and they want to show that.”
“Are those the same aliens?” a voice from the crowd called.
“What’s with the different outfits?” another yelled.
Dan forced a smile, trying to look more relaxed than he was. “I’ll have some answers in a few minutes,” he said, tracing a circle in the air to remove his own forcefield in an entirely instinctive manner. Once that was done, he beckoned Terry forward with a friendly hand gesture.
Terry stood still, shaking his head. “I don’t… I… I’m not going in there.”
Dan encouraged one of the Messengers to extend its hand and walk slowly towards Terry. It did so, all but screaming ‘we come in peace’ as the world watched on.
When Terry unsurely glanced at Dan, Dan widened his eyes in a manner that told Terry to do this rather than merely suggested it.
The world is watching, he tried to stress without speaking. Man up.
Whether it was the weight of the crowd or something else, Terry eventually shook the Messenger’s hand. His expression softened immediately at the contact, and he began walking towards the cornfield with no further reluctance. The Messenger who had walked to greet him remained where it was, striking the pose of a lost dog as it looked around uneasily at countless unfamiliar faces.
“Clark,” Dan called, “look after that one while we’re in there. Make sure they treat him well when they’re doing measurements and stuff, okay?”
“Damn right,” Clark said. He rushed to the frightened-looking alien’s side and offered a handshake of his own.
The Messenger reciprocated.
“So uh… hey, dude,” Clark uttered. “Can you hear me?”
Confirmation came in the form of a nod.
“Can you talk to me?”
No answer.
“Will you talk to me?”
A shake of the head.
Clark couldn’t help but grin; the situation was so surreal he could hardly believe any of it was happening, but at least the alien was honest.
At the edge of the cornfield, Dan turned towards the crowd in front of Phil’s farmhouse one more time. “I’ll be back soon,” he called. “Emma, I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she shouted back.
“And Tara…” Dan went on, “don’t worry about anything; they’re here to help us.”
Dan McCarthy had been wrong before, but never as wrong as this.
V minus 4
???
???
Side by side with a police officer named Terry who had been a complete stranger until minutes earlier, Dan McCarthy ascended an elevator-like cylinder in Phil Norris’s cornfield and emerged in a room so white that it once again felt like a dream.
He had been in this very mothership on one previous occasion, when he and Emma came face to face with the benevolent but imperfect Messengers in Lolo National Forest.
Terry stared open-mouthed in every direction, searching for a break in the impossibly total whiteness. He walked around the walls and felt brave enough to touch them, all while the Messenger before Dan — the only one in the room — paid no heed whatsoever.
The Messenger’s full attention was on Dan, and it wasted no further time in letting him know what was going on.
“Our Elders are dead,” it communicated silently, holding Dan’s eyes with its own. “Our home world is in chaos. The calling of my kind, the Interpreters, has been ripped from our grasp. Where once we were intermediaries between the wisdom of our Elders and the rest of our race, we are now distrusted as pariahs. We have been accused of sabotaging our own Elders; we have been accused of incompetence in missing indications of their ill-health while something could have been done about it; we have had our voices drowned out by the bombast of the Squadron and their beliefs that we Interpreters failed our race on purpose.”
Dan listened more intently than he had ever listened to anything in his life.
“The Squadron have not come to Earth to claim it as their own,” the Messenger continued. “New Kerguelen faces an existential threat and the Squadron have come in search of assistance, believing us not only incapable of finding a solution but untrustworthy of even trying. Their distrust of us extends to our known friends and allies, so much so that the Squadron have searched for friends among the enemies of our own. Everything about the triangles was designed to divide… to thicken the line between sides and bring hidden loyalties and hatreds into the light. In the shape of their chosen conduit, they have discovered the antithesis of our own — and not by accident.”
Upon hearing this truly remarkable information, Dan instinctively turned to Terry. The voice in his mind was so clear that it was easy to forget he wasn’t hearing it out loud, but Terry’s continued obliviousness to anything other than the totality of the white surfaces all around him reaffirmed that he couldn’t hear anything.
“Let me get this straight…” Dan began, replying without actually speaking. “They chose Jack because he’s my worst enemy… which is relevant because they distrust you and know that you trust me? Is that right?” The thought alone was difficult for Dan to wrap his head around, striking his overwhelmed mind as almost impossibly convoluted.
“Members of the Squadron are not raised or educated with a focus on logical thought,” the Messenger replied somewhat dryly.
Dan shook his head. “But they had this plan about the triangles… all of that just to sharpen the divide and bring the fault lines into plain sight? That’s elaborate scheming, almost like the kind of thing that human politicians—”
“Not almost,” the Messenger cut in, essentially interrupting an outgoing thought in Dan’s mind with an incoming one. “It is not almost like a human scheme of deceit, it was built upon observation of such schemes. They know from previous events on Earth, which we Interpreters observed and relayed, that humankind would react with great
interest to the discovery of one artefact which hinted at more to come.”
“But they even knew where to put them,” Dan replied. “Tanzania? Vanuatu? That takes a serious level of planning and consideration. Are you sure they weren’t in contact with Jack before all of this, and that he didn’t advise them?”
“Entirely sure. Truly, without doubt. Our home world, known to you as New Kerguelen, is managed by a cross-sectional council of our kind and every other. Some time ago, when our Elders became unreliable in their dispensation of advice, the council approved a Squadron mission to independently observe the only other socially complex intelligent race we have encountered: humanity. That decision grew from a brewing distrust of our increasingly sporadic interpretations of the Elders’ will, and it allowed the Squadron to paint their own picture of Earth. The Squadron are our planet’s defensive security force, with sole control of energy-based weaponry beyond human comprehension. Driven by their distrust of us, the Squadron have sought assistance in the worst possible place. But the great difference between the Squadron and their earthly conduit, it is crucial to understand, is that they believe they are acting in the best interests of their home planet… of our home planet.”
Dan’s brow furrowed. “So they’re not a bad faction, they’re just wrong? And we just have to convince them that Jack’s an asshole who only wants to use them to get one over on everyone he hates, no matter the cost? Because I can promise you this: Jack Neal isn’t going to help anyone unless it’s a side-effect of getting what he wants, let alone an alien race.”
“We do not have to convince the Squadron of anything other than the need to pause their efforts to find help while we undertake one final effort of our own,” the Messenger replied, the thought somehow surprising Dan with its insistent tone. “In the absence of our Elders, New Kerguelen needs unity. In the Elderless vacuum of the moment, New Kerguelen needs to embrace the better parts of human civilisation. And that, Dan, is where you come in.”
So much had changed since Dan first stepped inside this mothership, both in his life and the world in general, but one thing had always remained constant in his mind: when they could, the Messengers would help.
Now, however, as he was in the process of finding out, the shoe was very much on the other foot.
“The Squadron will not make any attempt to block our return to New Kerguelen, even with visitors,” the Messenger said.
Dan’s eyes involuntarily widened upon ‘hearing’ the word visitors. He had a feeling where this was going, but opted not to interrupt.
“Our race faces very real and very urgent problems,” his alien counterpart continued, “and we were in the process of handling those problems when the Elders became unresponsive. Despite their distrust of our efforts so far, the Squadron will be nothing but happy if we find a way to solve the problem and improve conditions for all. Grudges are not the same among our race as among your own; if we solve the external problem, there is no problem left. They were granted an observation permit by the council as a last resort when the Elders’ responsiveness faded to a fraction of what it once was, and although they are here we are content in the knowledge that they would return home gladly once the problem is solved. Our success will regain their trust.”
“What is this problem?” Dan asked. “The external problem you keep talking about… what is it?”
The Messenger replied very flatly, almost indifferently: “Our physical environment. External conditions have been worsening for several generations, but in the recent time since our Elders’ deaths many internal and protective tasks have been neglected. Without direction many are lost, and without the Elders our words carry no weight.”
The tone of the words seemed to be changing, and Dan waited eagerly for the punchline.
“We wish for unity,” the Messenger went on, “such as that engendered on Earth albeit temporarily following our necessary intervention against your Defensive Station 1. A perceived threat from outside can deliver unity, but so can diplomatic outreach. Indeed, until today, your own outreach across national boundaries looked to be bridging the divide the Squadron were attempting to exacerbate with their triangles. Our own divisions are far less stark, and the unifying perspective provided by an alien visitor may be what New Kerguelen needs. We turn to you in need and ask for whatever help you can provide. Please.”
“You want me to unite your planet?” Dan asked, sure he must be misunderstanding. The ‘please’ at the end caught him off-guard, but the immensity of the broader request didn’t give him any time to reflect on why that word felt so unexpected.
“A public appearance is a last resort,” the Messenger told him, “but with the possibility at hand we would turn to no one else. The great majority of our race are unaware of distant lifeforms such as your own, and this revelation could be the kind of unifying moment your old enemy brought about with his initial hoax. The difference, again, is that our motives are pure.”
The breadth and depth of what the Messenger was talking about surprised Dan almost as much as the core topic; it truly did have a full grasp of the twists and turns his life’s path had taken in the time since Richard Walker enacted his leak sequence. The Messenger’s characterisation of Walker as his ‘old enemy’ almost elicited a smile, but not quite.
Dan breathed deeply, having utterly no idea what his visit would entail but already knowing beyond doubt that he had to try to help. There were all kinds of reasons, but Jack Neal potentially being mere inches or hours from indirect access to impossibly powerful weaponry was certainly one of the more pressing.
“I could bring experts,” Dan said. “Linguists, engineers, biologists, doctors, veterinarians… whatever and whoever could possibly help with your environmental problems or even your Elders. Because when you say they’re dead, does that really mean dead? And don’t you have successors ready to step in, or at least candidates to train? Can’t one of your kind take up the mantel of an Elder… an Interpreter? I could bring conflict resolution specialists, diplomats, anything you can—”
“The travelling party will comprise you and at most one companion,” the Messenger interjected, saving Dan from wasting any more energy on fruitless thoughts. “And no, we have no succession process for future Elders. As individuals we live and die like any others, but our Elders do not. Until now, at least, our Elders have not. They were not like us. Seeing is understanding… you will understand when you see.”
“I’ll see them?” Dan asked. “Last time you told me it was literally impossible for me to see them.”
“Access was restricted to only our kind during the Elders’ time. As Interpreters we worked with them endlessly to ensure all data was being considered before a decision was reached and relayed to the rest of New Kerguelen. Now that the Elders have passed, no such restrictions are in place.”
“So what’s the situation now… are they lying in state or something?” Dan asked. He briefly wondered whether ‘lying in state’ would be something the Messenger understood, before remembering that it wasn’t listening to his unvocalised words so much as it was observing and interpreting the brainwaves that preceded them.
“Yes; as they were in life, so they remain.”
Dan nodded in understanding. Well… not quite understanding, but certainly acknowledgement.
As for the point about a sole travelling companion, although this surprised and in many ways disappointed Dan, there was zero doubt in his mind who that companion would be; no one in any world could be better suited to the task of persuasion than Emma, and there would have been no one else in his thoughts even if he didn’t know she would be so useful.
This brief thought, of how much of an interpersonal influencer Emma really was, brought a thought of Jack — another master of the art, as much as Dan hated to admit it — right back into his mind.
“Are the Squadron asking Jack for advice right now?” he suddenly asked. “Or are they asking him to go to New Kerguelen, too? Because we definitely don’t want him to beat
us there.”
“At the moment they are merely gathering his perspective.”
“Which happens to be the most warped perspective in the world,” Dan replied with a rueful shake of his head. From the outside this conversation would have looked like two beings engaged in an endless and silent staring contest, but the only person present to witness it — Terry the police officer — was still sensorily overwhelmed in a very genuine way by the colourless uniformity of the vast room.
“Our immediate concern is that he succeeds in convincing them to take regrettable action, either here or at home,” the Messenger said. “Their communications abilities are far beneath our own as you saw from their use of the cable — they have never communicated with humans, unlike our kind, so they have not developed the understanding required to forego the physical connection. The nature of their conversations will also be stilted, as were ours at first, but in time that will change. For now, complex discussion is beyond them. Our window is short, however, as their acuity will develop rapidly as they converse with their conduit further.”
“I’ll come,” Dan said. “I don’t know what you want me to do and I don’t know if I can do it, but I owe you this much. I have a lot of questions about the powers you gave me, but those can wait for the journey.”
Unless Dan’s eyes were deceiving him, the Messenger’s lips crinkled slightly in the closest thing to a smile he’d ever seen on an alien face. Evidently, it was glad he was in.
“Excellent,” it said. “But there will be no journey; from your perspective, we will depart and arrive with no voyage in between.”
Dan shrugged. This was another ‘think about it later’ point — and think about it he would — but for now there was a more urgent matter to attend to. The future of New Kerguelen and quite possibly of Earth itself depended on the de-escalation of a post-Elder schism and the filling of a power vacuum of which Dan had no detailed knowledge.
The Final Call Page 33