Micah returned carrying Ashlyn’s limp body. His green flannel shirt was wrapped tight around her right shoulder, blood soaking through. She cracked open an eyelid and mumbled, “Where am I?”
Nathan came over and helped Micah lay her on the floor, bunching his coat under her head.
“She’s got a nasty shoulder wound from the bullets, but it looks like she’s going to make it,” Micah said.
“I thought you said she was dead?”
“It looked that way through the monitors from down here. Turns out she knocked herself out when she fell.” Micah pulled out a pocket knife and warned Ashlyn it would sting. She yelped as he cut into the back of her neck.
“What about your father?” Nathan asked, shielding his eyes and grimacing.
Micah averted his gaze, tears glazing his cheeks. “He’s dead.”
“I’m so sorry,” Nathan said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Bryce didn’t die in vain, I promise.”
“Here it is,” Micah said, displaying a bloody microchip between his fingertips. He inserted the chip into a computer and let the audio stream live through the satellites.
As the audio rolled, the whole world listened to the Intergovernmental Congress plan the depopulation of the Sanctuaries by using mercenaries to seal off the fallout shelters and force a quarter billion people into the streets when the next flare hit.
Twenty minutes later, enough incriminating evidence against the Rankcon Intergovernmental Partnership had been presented for Nathan to make his demands.
38
The mercenary ended his call and flagged down his commander. He was at the main entrance of the Quadrant Three Hospital, overseeing the final evacuations.
“What is it?” the commander said.
“The Barriers are down all over the world, sir.”
“What? Are you sure?” the commander said. “We need to seal off two more fallout shelters before that flare hits.”
“There’s something you need to hear, sir.”
The mercenary opened a SyncSheet and played the transmission coming from McMurdo. The commander listened in dismay and looked around. Thousands were in the streets, children crying, mothers holding infants in terror. The whole place was in chaos and the flare would strike any day.
“We’re pulling the hell out of here,” the commander barked. “I’ll instruct the men in the other Sanctuaries to do the same.”
“What do we do about all these people, sir?”
“Get them back into the hospitals and fallout shelters before there’s any blood on our hands.”
“Yes, sir. Who should we start with?”
The commander scanned the crowd surrounding the hospital. A gaunt, motionless boy was strapped in a wheelchair outside the entrance. “Nurse,” he shouted to the Hispanic lady standing next to him. “What’s that kid’s name?”
“Ian,” she said, trembling.
“This is Ian’s lucky day. Take him inside first, then have your staff wheel in the rest of the patients who are not able to walk by themselves. After that, have the rest of them start filing back inside.”
“Right away, sir. Thank you.”
_____
The House Speaker sat with his face in his palms in the darkness of the Intergovernmental Congress Chambers, the audio from McMurdo playing on a continuous loop. An emergency session had been called. The frantic debating had not ceased for fifty minutes and the volume had grown so loud he could no longer hear his own voice.
He stood and pounded on the conference table. “Quiet!”
The uproar subsided and two hundred shadows looked to him.
“We will find a way out of this situation, but we must think sensibly,” the House Speaker said, looking around the room. “I refuse to negotiate with this Nathan Gallagher…and this…this sentient machine on the other side of the universe.”
Director of Global Infrastructure responded with a snide laugh. “With all due respect, House Speaker, this machine has managed to shut down every Barrier on the planet.”
“And air our dirty laundry to the entire world,” someone else added. “It’s over, House Speaker. The world is on to us. I suggest we comply with Nathan’s demands and take cover while we still can.”
“Has anyone heard from Leland Kronemeyer?” the House speaker snapped.
“No word, but Rankcon Corporation informed us they’ve been locked out of all Barrier mainframes. Their system administrators have never seen anything like this.”
The door to the chambers opened. A guard entered.
“What is it?” the House Speaker said.
“The Session Chambers are surrounded by military helicopters, sir.”
_____
Micah’s satellite phone beeped. He gave Nathan a nod to take the call.
Nathan answered.
It was the House Speaker of the Intergovernmental Congress. Nathan had requested the Intergovernmental Congress send over a signed electronic document, and they were complying with his demands. Nathan was to instruct Damien to release administrator control of the Barrier system immediately.
The call ended.
Nathan pulled out his SyncSheet and found the document in his inbox. He opened the attachment and scrolled. As of today, the Rankcon Intergovernmental Partnership was officially dissolved. Per Nathan’s demands, Rankcon’s seized assets would fund medical expenses for Sanctuary residents with illnesses due to prolonged solar exposure, as well as infrastructure for new Barrier cities. The patent for Barrier technology was now expired and would be made available to all. Citizens in all Sanctuaries would be given proper shelter before the next flare hit. Afterward, they would be vetted and temporarily relocated to Barrier cities while new cities were erected.
Nathan read through two more pages to verify that no fine print had been included and all his demands had been met, particularly his request for amnesty following today’s events. He was no lawyer, but this looked good to him. Micah skimmed through and agreed.
Now it was Nathan’s turn to act.
"Elliot," he said. "Are you still there?"
Damien Unit’s body continued to shudder. "I am Damien Unit...I am Elliot...I am Damien Unit...I am Elliot...I am Damien Unit…"
"He's been stuck like this for over an hour," Micah said. "I hope it's not too late."
"Elliot, please, we need you to keep fighting," Nathan demanded. "Give us back control of the Barrier system now.”
Damien's faceplate went black, flickered red, then orange. "Joshua...please...I want Joshua..."
"Get Joshua back on," Nathan said to Micah.
"Got him. I've had him on hold this whole time. Just in case."
"Dad?" Joshua said. "It's me...Joshua...can you hear me?"
"Joshua...it is...good to hear your voice again...after all these years...good...bye...good...bye...goodbye...I am Damien Unit...I am Damien Unit…I am..D..a...m..i..."
Damien went into another spasm, faceplate blinking from orange to red to yellow and green, then finally…black. Then, he froze.
"Not good,” Micah said, shaking his head. “I think he's dead."
"When will we know if he gave us back administrator control?"
Micah walked over to a stack of server units. He punched at a keypad near a monitor. “He’s done it! We have control again!”
Nathan jumped up and gave Micah a bear hug. As they were cheering and celebrating, Micah pointed at the monitor behind Nathan, his expression suddenly serious. "Uh, Nathan, who is that?"
Nathan spun around. Damien had disappeared and a tall bald man in a lab coat stood in his place. He appeared to be inside a glass-domed observatory, with desert landscape glowing in the background.
"Where's this transmission coming from?" Nathan asked.
Micah pecked at a keyboard near the monitor. “It’s originating from Ellis Three, from the same location as Damien."
“Greetings, Nathan Gallagher,” the man said with a warm smile. A monstrous red sun blazed on the horizon behind him. “Y
ou and the entire world are viewing a recording programmed into the matrix of this Damien Unit over a thousand years ago. My name is Dr. Stanburg, president of the SunDown Initiative. I am from Earth, and the year is 2161, eighty-two years in your future. I bring you this message with great urgency, in hopes that our two timelines might work together in stopping the flares. After studying the flares for over a century, our scientists have finally devised a means for stabilizing the sun in its early stages of destabilization, but we need your cooperation. In layman’s terms, at our point on the timeline, the sun is on the verge of exploding and destroying the entire solar system. It is far too late for us to stop it, but not for you in your time.”
Micah and Nathan were stunned into silence once more, their mouths agape.
Dr. Stanburg walked closer to the camera. “Based on the historical data recovered from the Ellis Three Archives, our scientists predict that the Fold will collapse sometime between 2169 and 2173. As you are aware, this collapse will occur as a convoy from Earth is passing through the Fold, causing the human race to begin an alternate history on Ellis Three, over three thousand years ago in Ellis Three’s past. Therefore, as we continue our archeological endeavors on Ellis Three, we will be sending this recording with all future missions over the next twelve years, in hopes that one of those missions will be the convoy that passes through the Fold as it collapses. God willing, humans on Ellis Three will eventually embed this recording into the matrix of this Damien Unit, and it will be programmed to transmit it at your precise moment in history. Miraculously, if you are viewing this recording, Nathan, it has managed to traverse through three millennia on Ellis Three, passed from one generation to the next. And now it has finally reached its intended recipient, Nathan Gallagher.”
Again, Nathan and Micah looked at each other, stunned, unable to speak.
“We considered sending instructions with the convoy to have this Damien Unit destroyed so the weapon never enters the Fold and the sun’s destabilization never occurs.” He paused and looked out the tall glass windows. “However, it is preferable to work within the parameters of an established event on Earth’s timeline. Preventing the flares from ever occurring could have catastrophic consequences on linear time. Events in your time should happen as they’re intended to happen. History has recorded this monumental day at McMurdo Station, and it is a certainty. We have concrete historical record of this Damien Unit, and how Nathan Gallagher’s and his team’s success at McMurdo Station forever changed civilization on Earth. As I’ve stated, the men and women who will pass through the Fold in the coming years will carry this transmission with them. Our hope is that this message will one day reach you, Nathan. We’re aware that because we’ve interfered with Earth’s recorded history, we’ve most likely created an alternative timeline for Earth beginning at this historical day at McMurdo Station. Our hope is that this new, alternate timeline will lead to a 2161 with a healthy sun.”
Someone joined Dr. Stanburg’s side. An old man.
Nathan froze. Something about the man looked familiar, the way he grinned.
“The remainder of this transmission is intended for Nathan Gallagher only,” Dr. Stanburg said. “I will pause as you disconnect all global channels.”
Micah did as directed, then looked at Nathan. “Should I go?”
“Yeah, you better. I’ll holler if there are any technical problems.”
Micah left and shut the door of the server room.
Several minutes later, the old man smiled again, and Nathan felt a chill race down his spine. No, it couldn’t be. Was it possible?
“Hi dad,” the old man said, grinning. “It’s me, Ian. I just turned ninety-five two weeks ago, but I’m still enjoying life, thanks to you.” The camera panned down to his legs then back up to his face. His grin widened.
Nathan felt lightheaded. He rubbed his forehead and collapsed into a chair.
“You’re probably ready to pass out right about now, aren’t you dad? I would too if I saw my teenage son as an old man eighty-two years in the future. I just wanted to say, thanks dad. Thanks for fighting for me. Thanks for not losing hope. As you can see, I will walk again, but Dr. Stanburg says I’m not allowed to tell you how, as to not further disrupt recorded history. You just need to keep fighting, to not lose hope.”
Tears welled up in Nathan’s eyes. He wished he could say something back and be heard, wished it was more than just a recording of his son.
“Oh, and one more thing, dad. Please don’t tell my younger self that you heard from my older self. It’s best that I experience life the natural way, one day at a time. One step at a time.”
Dr. Stanburg reappeared and told Nathan to prepare for a final, highly important transmission.
The recording ended.
Chirping from the servers.
“Micah, you better get back in here,” Nathan yelled.
Micah rushed through the door. “What is it?”
“You tell me.”
Micah hurried to a computer. "It’s another transmission from Ellis Three, from Damien’s location," he said, shaking his head. "It's so much data. Millions of gigabytes."
Nathan looked at Micah’s monitor. Some sort of schematic appeared.
"It's a blueprint," Micah said, eyes wide. "Future humans sent us a blueprint, through Damien."
"A blueprint for what?"
Micah spun sideways in his chair. "From what I can tell, it’s a device we can send into the sun and stop the flares."
39
Militaries from all over the world flooded McMurdo thirty minutes after Damien’s final transmission. Nathan, Micah, and Ashlyn surrendered peacefully, and were transported to a prison in Sydney, Australia. After days of round-the-clock questioning, a lawyer from Duncan & Stephensen, Ashlyn’s law firm in New York City, appeared on global television demanding their immediate release. Per Ashlyn’s suggestion seconds before their arrest, Nathan had forwarded the lawyer a digital copy of the contract signed by the House Speaker of the Intergovernmental Congress. The lawyer sent it to every major news outlet on the planet, and they aired it to the world. Now billions of Barrier and Sanctuary residents were also demanding the release of Nathan, Ashlyn, and Micah. World leaders could see the threat of mass rioting on the horizon. The lawyer reminded them the world’s population needed reassurance that its new leadership could be trusted, and that they would honor Nathan’s agreement with the now disbanded Intergovernmental Congress.
Forty-eight hours later, Nathan, Ashlyn, and Micah were released and acquitted of all counts of global terrorism. The terms of Nathan’s contract would go into effect immediately.
Leland Kronemeyer was sentenced to life in a penitentiary in Nevada. A month into his sentence, a bogus transfer request had him on a helicopter headed to a prison a hundred miles away. The transfer never happened. The helicopter flew to a nearby evacuated Sanctuary and landed on the roof of a hospital. His desk awaited him there, along with a gold nameplate that read: Leland Kronemeyer: Chief Executed Officer of Rankcon Corporation. He was stripped to his boxer briefs and strapped to a big leather chair in front of live cameras. Before authorities could get there, a flare hit and the whole gruesome event was televised—every scream, squeal, and plea for mercy as he baked in the unfiltered sun. Sources confirmed a group of ex-Sanctuary residents orchestrated the whole thing.
Nathan didn’t watch a second of it. He’d witnessed enough horrors to last him a lifetime, his father’s death being the most disturbing. Now that Ian was safe again, Nathan’s mind was freed up to mourn, really mourn.
_____
Nathan and Sarah reached the spot on the mountain 1.8 miles from the Mt. Rushmore ruins. Just ahead, the thicket cleared and the abandoned maintenance building stood like an apparition.
“So that’s where it happened?” Sarah said, taking Nathan’s hand.
“Yeah…that’s where it happened.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, you don’t have to if it’s too soon.”
>
“I want to do this. I need to do this.”
They approached the building and stopped at the entrance.
“Do you want me to come inside with you?” Sarah said.
“No, stay outside. The decontamination may not have been thorough. I’m not sure how safe it is.”
Nathan stepped inside and stopped in the center—where his father vanished like a phantom, where he put the molecular separator to his chest and disappeared for good. Now that the worse season of Nathan’s life was over, he could finally come to grips with that tragic evening. He could finally grieve.
He whispered a prayer and tossed a rose on the ground.
“So long dad. We miss you.”
He wiped tears from his cheeks with his jacket sleeve and went back to the entrance. He took Sarah’s hand. They stood in silence as a falcon screeched in the distance.
“Dad deserves to be recognized for the sacrifice he made here,” Nathan finally said.
Sarah nodded. “I agree. But I thought he told you to keep it a secret?”
“Dad was mainly thinking about mom and not putting her through any more emotional trauma.” Nathan kicked at the ground. “On the other hand, the world needs to know about the bug implanted in dad’s wedding band. Without the conversation it picked up in Chairman Alkott’s office, there would have been no restored communication with Jillian’s spacecraft before it blew, no data package with the mission details, no schematics of the McMurdo Barrier, and ultimately no exchange with Damien. Ian would be dead right now, along with millions of people that were trapped in the Sanctuaries.”
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