Savant ; Rising

by Hatchett

  “WE CONTACT SOME, HOPE THEY’RE SANE AND SEE IF THEY CAN HELP.”

  “I’m not sure I’m convinced, Jess, but even if I was, how on earth could we find them? I’d assume that in their line of work, they’d be ultra-secretive and cautious. Again, maybe I’m just being presumptive, and I accept we don’t have any other options on the table at the moment.”

  “ALREADY DONE. WE’RE MEETING SOMEONE AT SIX PM.”

  “What? How did you manage that?”

  “IT’S CALLED THE INTERNET.”

  John couldn’t believe what he was hearing and looked around the others to see them looking back at him in expectation. “Ok…I guess,” John nodded reluctantly, not entirely convinced, but having nothing better to go on.

  22

  Mason was sitting and chatting with his colleagues, enjoying a chilled glass of Sauvignon Blanc when his phone started vibrating.

  “Hello chief,” Mason answered, seeing who the caller was, “any news? I’m putting you on speaker.” Mason turned the phone onto speaker and placed it on the coffee table in the middle of the group.

  “Hi Mason. Nothing much to report I’m afraid. I sent a patrol around to John Barrington’s house, but there was no answer.”

  “Did they knock at the door, look in the windows, have a look around?”

  “Well no, the gates were closed so they turned around and came back.”

  “Fucking imbeciles!” Mason exploded, almost dropping his drink as he stood up and started pacing. “Did they really expect someone to answer the fucking gate when plod came knocking? Why didn’t they go in and check? They could have been hiding in there the whole time.”

  “We can’t just go barging onto people’s property without good reason or a warrant,” the Chief responded, “especially someone like John Barrington.”

  “They thought they saw smoke,” Mason explained.

  “What?” asked the chief, thoroughly confused.

  “I said ‘they thought they saw smoke’ which means there might be a fire which means they had a good reason to enter the fucking premises!” Mason shouted. “Are you fucking stupid or what?”

  “I see. I’ll send them back.”

  “It’s probably too fucking late but you do that! And you better get everyone on the lookout, especially for that crappy van he’s driving.”

  “We already have a BOLO out on that and Damian Richardson’s car, but neither have been seen.”

  “Well, you need to step it up or there will be consequences. This girl is a danger to us all and she must be found.” Mason clicked off the phone. “Idiot!” he muttered.

  “What else can we do?” Declan wondered.

  The Horsemen pondered the question.

  “Perhaps it’s time to send out an alert?” Archie suggested.

  “But that’s supposed to be a last resort,” David reminded them all. “It would be better to get some publicity, either through the press or the TV. Someone’s bound to spot them, especially a girl in a wheelchair.”

  “Good idea,” Mason replied. “I know people in both,” as he picked up his phone and started dialling.

  23

  John drove the Viano around fifty miles to Mitcham, South West London. It was on the border of inner and outer London, and still part of Surrey.

  The direct route would have meant going back along the Hogs Back to join the A3 at Guildford, and although it would have shaved around ten miles off the journey, they wanted to avoid going anywhere near Guildford for the time being. Instead, they had taken the M3 up to the M25 orbital motorway which circled Greater London, then joined the A3 at Wisley Common.

  Thankfully the traffic had been fairly light on what were busy main roads and they had made good time. At just after five pm, they found a parking space in a multi-storey car park in the centre of town. Jess had tried out her new wheelchair back at the hotel so by the time the back door lifted up and the ramp lowered, she was already manoeuvring her chair out of the van. As they were on the third floor, she just prayed there was a working lift, or it’d be a real pain trying to get down to the ground floor. Thankfully there was.

  They left the car park and made their way a few hundred metres to the A236 London Road and started looking for the junction with Langdale Avenue. They found this easily enough then back-tracked to a café they had passed a few minutes earlier. Damian went to order some drinks while the ladies found a table that could accommodate Jess’s wheelchair and John went back outside to scout their target location.

  Ten minutes later John returned to the café and sat at their table and took a drink of the coffee that Damian had ordered him. It was a ‘greasy spoon’ type café and the coffee left a lot to be desired. John felt dirty just being in the establishment, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  “So, what did you find?” Paula asked. “Don’t keep us in suspense.”

  “The shop is exactly where they said it would be. It sells old vinyl records as described, and get this, it’s called ‘This is Vinyl Tap’. Cool eh?”

  “I DON’T GET IT”

  “You’re too young Jess. It’s a play on a 1980’s film called ‘This is Spinal Tap’, a spoof film about a heavy metal band. Of course, most music was on vinyl around then, or on cassettes, I think. No such thing as a compact disk or MP3 player. Those were the days!”

  “So, what did you find?”

  “I popped in, had a quick look around and came back out. Nothing unusual. I could have spent hours in there looking at all the records though.”

  “Ok, so we wait,” Di said, “and drink this awful coffee.” She looked at her watch to see how much longer she’d have to suffer.

  “Remember the plan,” Damian said. “I go in, wait around until contacted. I see what’s the score and if I’m happy, then I come back and get the rest of you. If I’m not back by seven, then you go back to the hotel.”

  At five fifty, Damian got up ready to leave the café.

  “If we’re not here,” Di said, “we’re either dead through poisoning or we’ve found a more promising coffee shop. There must be a Starbucks around here somewhere, they’re like a virus.”

  Damian left the café, turned left and started walking in accordance with John’s directions. It was beginning to get dark with all the heavy cloud cover and the wind seemed to be picking up. He reached and crossed Langdale Avenue then spotted the retro shop a few metres further along.

  He entered the shop, and as instructed, went to browse the albums under ‘A’. He flicked through various albums like ‘Voulez-Vous’ by ABBA, ‘The Lexicon of Love’ by ABC, ‘Kings of the Wild Frontier’ by Adam and the Ants, ‘Lost in Love’ by Air Supply and ‘Forever Young’ by Alphaville. God, did this bring back memories! He was so absorbed that he’d forgotten the purpose of his visit and it was only when he was tapped on his shoulder that he came out of his reverie.

  He turned to find a short balding fat man in his forties wearing a black Motorhead T-shirt and ripped jeans. He had an earring in the shape of a cross in his right ear and tattoos over his thick arms and neck.

  “You must be Damian,” he said. “I’m Pete and the shop is now closed so please follow me.” He stalked off behind the counter into a room beyond. Damian followed, looking all around as he went.

  The room turned out to be a corridor with doors leading off it. He was taken a couple of doors down before Pete opened the one on the right and ushered him in.

  There were no windows in the room and the dirty yellow light came from a dusty looking bulb in the centre of the ceiling. There was a kitchenette in the corner and coffee table underneath the light with a few mis-matched but comfortable-looking chairs and bean bags dotted around. Two of the chairs were occupied.

  “Take a seat,” Pete ordered. “Can I get you a drink? Coffee?”

  “No thanks,” Damian replied, “I’ve just had a bad experience further down the road.” He sat down in one of the comfortable looking armchairs and slowly sank into its deep padding.

  Ther
e was some snickering around the room.

  “You must have been to ‘Sloppy Sid’s’ one of the seated men spluttered, still trying not to laugh. “You could die in there!”

  “This is Sam,” Pete indicated the person who had spoken, “and the other one is Jimmy.”

  Sam looked like he was a leader, but Damian couldn’t be sure. He lent forwards to shake both their hands before sinking back into his seat.

  Although he was sitting down, Sam looked tall and trim with long dark hair in a ponytail and dark eyes. He was dressed similarly to Pete except his black T-Shirt had ‘Black Sabbath’ emblazoned across it. He had a pierced ring in his right eyebrow and two full sleeves of tattoos, mostly skulls by the look of them. On the other hand, Jimmy looked medium height and skinny. He was a dead ringer for Jimmy Sommerville of ‘The Communards’ fame but his white T-Shirt had pictures of Andy Bell and Vince Clarke of Erasure. He too had piercings; a couple of diamanté studs in his ears and a ring through his lower lip. He had a tattoo of a heart with some writing on his right bicep and Damian was beginning to wonder what he had walked into. He felt over-dressed and a bit too plain and normal to be sitting in this company.

  “Good to meet you all…I think,” Damian said.

  “Good to meet you too Damian,” Sam replied. “So, you want to tell us why you contacted us and what is so important?”

  Damian rattled through an explanation of what had happened to date, omitting to mention some of Jess’s new skills, but instead focused on how she ‘saw’ these aliens. The three men asked lots of questions which Damian answered as he best he could. When he had finished, he looked at his watch and saw that it was almost six-forty.

  “God, where’s the time gone? I’ve got to go shortly, but before I do, I have a few questions of my own.”

  Ten minutes later there was a pause in proceedings and Damian noticed the three men glancing at each other and each giving an imperceptible nod.

  “Ok,” Sam said, rising to his feet. “You’ve got our attention and we would like to meet the rest of you.”

  “When?”

  “Now’s as good a time as any, and if what you say is true, we might not have much time.”

  “Ok, I’ll go get them.”

  “Come with me,” Pete said as he walked out of the room. Damian followed him to the front of the store and Pete unlocked the door for him.

  “Knock three times if you’re ok when you come back. Knock twice if you’re not,” Pete ordered. “I’ll wait here in the dark.” He pressed a switch and the lights went off.

  Damian thought the security measures were a bit cliché but quickly left the shop and jogged in the direction of the café. He’d just crossed Langdale Avenue as the rest of them emerged onto the pavement.

  “Over here,” Damian called, and they turned to face him, relief evident in their expressions. They walked up to Damian as he came to a stop.

  “We couldn’t put up with that place a moment longer,” Di explained. “Are you ok?”

  “Yes, fine. I’ve told them the story and they want to meet the rest of you, especially Jess.”

  “When?” Di asked.

  “Now. Come on.” With that, Damian turned and started walking back to the shop.

  “Are you sure?” John asked as he caught up to Damian.

  “Yeah, I think they’re on board and seem sane. At least they didn’t laugh at our story and they seemed pretty serious, although I’ve got to warn you, I’m not sure they’re what you might envisage; it feels a bit like you’ve just entered a 1980’s version of ‘Wayne’s World’, except I didn’t see any guitars.”

  “WHAT’S ‘WAYNE’S WORLD’?” Jess asked as she pulled up next to them, leaving Di and Paula a couple of metres behind.

  “Don’t worry about it, you’ll see what I mean,” Damian replied.

  “I think I get the picture,” John replied, “if the shopkeeper I saw is anything to go by.”

  They reached the front of the shop and Damian had to think whether it was two knocks or three. After three knocks, they heard bolts being drawn back and the door opened.

  “Quickly!” Pete hissed.

  “This is Pete,” Damian explained over his shoulder as he walked into the shop and moved aside to let the others in.

  “Go on down,” Pete instructed, so Damian led them down to the room he had been in before. He heard Pete engaging the bolts behind him as he went.

  He walked into the room to find Sam and Jimmy in the same seats and allowed the rest to come in and take a seat before he found himself with the choice of a black beanbag or a yellow beanbag. He decided on the black beanbag and sat down, all the air and filling moving so that his backside was almost touching the floor. If there was going to be any trouble, he wasn’t going to be much use because he wouldn’t be able to get back up.

  Introductions were made and drinks offered before Sam spoke.

  “First, it’s good to see that you survived ‘Sloppy Sid’s’, and secondly, thanks for making contact. All we need to do now is work out if the fantastic story told by Damian is true, or a figment of your imaginations. Perhaps we should hear from Jess.”

  Sam, Jimmy and Pete looked at Jess intently, looking for any trickery or perhaps they were wondering if she was an alien herself.

  “WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW?”

  “For a start, what colour am I and what does it mean?”

  “YOU HAVE A LOT OF LIGHT BROWNS. DEPENDABLE, CONSERVATIVE BUT CAN BE OPINIONATED. JIMMY HAS A BIT OF PINK REFLECTING SOME FEMINITY AND SENSITIVITY…”

  Jess didn’t get any further because Pete and Sam had burst out laughing.

  “Fuck me, girl,” Sam interrupted, “you could make a mint as a fortune teller, but even I could have guessed Jimmy’s colour!”

  The laughter eventually died down, and while Jimmy went into a sulk, Sam stared intently at Jess for a few more seconds without saying anything.

  “LET ME ASK YOU SOMETHING.”

  “Ok, go ahead,” Sam offered.

  “WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT ALIENS?”

  Sam thought about it for a minute. “Good question. We know that there are aliens, we have the proof. There are millions of people all over the world who work in, shall we say, sensitive areas and a small minority of these people don’t think the various governments should keep this sort of information away from the public. The governments do keep it secret, of course, because they don’t want to cause widespread panic, but more importantly, they want to use what they find to develop new technology, especially weapons. The USA and UK are the worst culprits, but even the Russians and Chinese have agreed to keep a lid on it, and behind the scenes they’re all continuing with their ridiculous arms race. Who can develop a laser gun the quickest? Who can develop a decent spacecraft the quickest? Absolute madness, but they’re all at it and who can stop them? They’ve probably all got something more powerful than nuclear weapons already, but they’re hardly likely to start bragging about it because it would generate too many awkward questions. You’ve heard of the ‘Cold War’, but this is more like a ‘Secret War’. But, as I said, there are plenty of conscientious people who believe we should know what’s going on and they leak whatever they can get away with. Think Julian Assange of ‘Wikileaks’ or that ex-CIA guy Edward Snowden who leaked classified information. Not that they’re part of this, they’re just famous for leaking stuff and the media coverage which followed. We’re talking about people who stay under the radar and just circulate their information to an underground network of people like us. Those who believe.” He paused. “Do I sound deranged?” he asked with a disarming smile. “Once you get me going on this stuff, I can get a bit carried away. The injustice of it all, if you know what I mean?”

  “I BELIEVE YOU.”

  “That’s good Jess, because it’s all true.”

  “I KNOW.”

  “Do you want proof?” Pete asked, as if he was dying to show them something. Sam gave him an exasperated look.

  Jess turned
to look at Pete, ‘I DON’T NEED TO SEE ANY PROOF.’

  “Oh, ok then,” Pete replied automatically before frowning as if something was on his mind. Sam looked at Pete, a little puzzled.

  “What did you say?” Sam asked.

  “What?” Pete asked confused.

  “What did you just say to Jess?” Sam clarified.

  “I said ‘OK then’,” Pete replied

  “’Ok then’ to what?”

  “She told me she didn’t need to see the proof,” Pete explained.

  “No, she didn’t,” Sam said, as Jimmy came out of his sulk and sat forward, eager to know what was going on.

  John, Damian, Di and Paula were smiling as they knew that Jess was playing with them.

  “Yes, she fucking did!” Pete exclaimed, puffing his chest out.

  “BOYS, BOYS. CALM DOWN. I DID SPEAK TO PETE. I’M JUST MESSING WITH YOU,” Jess said through the voice box before the argument could escalate.

  “Well, I didn’t hear anything,” Sam stated.

  “Nor me,” added Jimmy.

  “Jess can speak to us in our heads,” Damian explained.

  “She can even suggest we poor drinks all over our crotch to make it look like we’ve wet ourselves,” John added with a slight smile and throwing an accusing look at Jess.

  “And she can read our minds,” Di added, “but she doesn’t do that unless she has to.”

  Pete, Sam and Jimmy started at Jess as if she was the second coming.

  Eventually Sam broke the silence.

  “Well, here we were trying to convince you that we know about aliens and you had more secrets than us. I’d heard about telepathy, of course, but thought it was just a myth. Can you also move things like telekinesis?”

  “NOT THAT I’M AWARE OF BUT I THINK I’M STILL DEVELOPING SO WHO KNOWS? ONE DAY MAYBE.”

  “Can you force Jimmy to do his mincing little shuffle?” Pete asked with a broad smile on his face. “He thinks it’s moonwalking, but Sam and me think differently.”

  “Don’t you fucking dare!” Jimmy screamed, closing his eyes and turning away from Jess as laughter rang out all around.