by Mic Shannon
“Done.”
“So, what about the researcher? The one that came back in twenty seventeen? Can he decrypt the files?”
“Well, it doesn’t say much about ‘em. It says they used ‘pervasive threatening counterterrorism tactics’, which is basically a polite way of saying that they threaten to kill you and everyone you love if you don’t comply. Then they were exiled out of Britain. There’s also something in there that suggests that they might’ve kept notes that could help decrypt the files on the disk.”
“Well, let’s see if we can find him!” said the President.
“I’ve already located the researcher.”
She looked up at him, eyes wide.
“Last known location, a crematorium in Virginia. She just recently died of breast cancer…”
SAT, MAY 20th, 2034
Alexandria, VA, USA
9:37 am
I t had been more than a week since the party, but he still couldn’t get her off his mind. They had talked on the phone almost every day since that night, learning about each other and talking about their dreams. This particular Saturday morning, he was up early. He yawned and rolled over, looking at Tee who was still sound asleep. Grabbing the diary from a crevasse behind his mattress, his new hiding spot, he opened the book and flipped to the place where he left off with the corner of the page folded over as a placeholder.
Two friends of mine breathed their last today
It was a crushing blow to my morale
Yet still, I find my purpose fulfilling
Researching constantly, ever vigilant to find just one thing
One discovery, one breakthrough
Longing to find something that could save us
Save Humankind
From death…decimation…
And the perils of suffering
“Yo kid,” said Tee through a lazy voice, “what’re you reading?”
“This?” he said, closing the book, “Oh this is my mom’s diary. I found it after she died.”
“Oh,” said Tee, knowing it would be out of line now to ask about its contents, “You wanna go to the store?”
“Yeah, that’s cool,” he replied. He would go with Tee whether he bought him something or not, but chances were high that he would.
He placed the journal back in the crevasse behind the mattress, and tucked the covers over top of it. At this point, he didn’t care too much if Tee knew where it was, but when he looked over to see if Tee had noticed, he realized he wasn’t even paying attention.
“Let me see if Manny wants to go,” said Michael.
“Cool,” said Tee.
As the three boys started walking toward the store, Manny broke the silence first.
“So, I see you getting closer to Cynthia,” he said, grinning with admiration.
“That chick is hot bro,” said Tee, “you hit that yet?”
“Yeah,” said Michael, smiling, “prom night.”
“Whaaaat?!” said Manny with over-the-top excitement, “and you couldn’t tell nobody?”
“Why would I tell anybody?” Michael asked, “That’s my business.”
“Yeah but…well…true,” said Manny, “shoot I would’ve been bragging to everybody like, yeah I hit that.”
Michael and Tee both looked at each other.
“He don’t know yet,” said Tee, laughing.
“He’s a virgin,” said Michael.
“Obviously,” replied Tee.
“Whatever, shut up,” said Manny, “you were a virgin until Cynthia.”
“So what?!” said Tee, “He slept with the hottest girl in his school for his first time and she wants to be his girlfriend.”
“What about you Tee?” said Michael.
“Who me?” he replied confidently, “I hit tons of chicks. I get money so, I just flash a little cash and they all flock.”
Michael contemplated his methods. Was he sleazy for using his money as bait? What about the women who took the bait? In a strange way, he realized, Tee was just using what he had to get what he wanted.
As they walked into the store, Tee tapped Manny, “go ahead, get what you want.”
He looked at Michael, “you good Mike, I got you.”
Michael came to the counter with a bag of chips and a can of soda. He always got something small. He never wanted Tee to think he was taking advantage. As he stood at the counter, he couldn’t stop thinking about the last diary entry. His mother had tons of cancer foundation shirts. She had gone on walks and donated to charities. Maybe she a part of a cancer research organization? It didn’t seem farfetched. She spent a lot of time attending meetings and hanging around other breast cancer patients. It was apparent that she found researching cures fulfilling. She hoped to find something that could not only save her and her friends, but countless others. Something that could cure cancer for good. He wanted to know more…
--- 10:19 am ---
When they opened the front door of the old two-story home, Ms. Tanya was in the living room watching the SMART TV. Manny ran into the kitchen dribbling an invisible ball and grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator. Ms. Tanya stared at the SMART TV, catching Tim’s attention with her intrigued, unwavering gaze.
“What’s going on?” asked Tee.
“Look,” she said pointing to the news program on the television. The well-dressed anchor continued his report.
“If you’re just now tuning in with us, we have just learned that there are strange reports coming in from all over the world about three unusual objects near Mars. At this time, NASA has not commented on the objects, but any moment now we will be hearing comments from the Deputy Administrator. Still, onlookers with telescopes claim that they can see three distinct dots or flickers of light when looking in the direction of the fourth planet. We now go live to NASA as they hold a press conference just outside of Two Independence Square.”
The news station cut to a well-dressed man standing at a mobile podium while cameras flashed. The heading at the bottom of the screen read: Nathan Dove, Deputy Administrator, NASA. He began to speak.
“Around four o’clock this morning, we first received reports about some concerns of possible objects just outside the orbit of Mars.”
The reporters started yelling his name, “Mr. Dove! Mr. Dove!”
“Please hold your questions,” he interrupted. The crowd silenced.
“We first began to investigate the objects, looking for potential clues as to what they might be. We coordinated with other agencies around the world. As of this time, we have concluded that it is too early to tell what these objects are.”
The mob of reporters began to holler like a roaring crowd at an outdoor concert, hoping to be heard. The Deputy Director pointed to a blonde-haired reporter in a white blouse on the left side of the crowd who began speaking immediately.
“Mr. Deputy Director, could these be asteroids or comets?”
“Yes, that is very possible,” he replied, “but as of right now, we are still investigating the size and structure of these objects.”
The crowd began to shout again. The Deputy Director pointed to another reporter on the right with a red tie and dark hair.
“Yes, thank you Mr. Deputy Director,” he jumped in immediately, “Is there any worry that these objects could be headed toward Earth?”
“We don’t have that concern right now. The objects seem to be on an outward trajectory away from Earth. We just might see some cool lights as they pass by, but that’s about it. That’s all we know right now.”
The crowd began their uproar again. He pointed to the middle of the crowd.
The next was woman in a black suit jacket, “Should there be any concern?”
“We don’t have any immediate concerns at this time. We haven’t raised any warning levels, and we don’t perceive any threat to our planet.”
“Mr. Dove! Mr. Dove!” stirred the crowd, anxious for more.
“That’s all the questions I have time for today, thank you.”
He waved to the cameras, ending the press conference as reporters shouted their juicy questions, agitated that the meeting had offered so little.
“Is the President considering In-LaWS?”
“What about reports that they’re in formation?”
“Are they extraterrestrial in nature?”
He walked away from the podium as the reporters continued to scream, “Mr. Dove! Mr. Dove!”
SUN, MAY 21st, 2034
Washington, DC, USA
4:16 pm
D eputy Administrator Dove sat in his office and lit a cigar, excited about his newly promised promotion. He kicked his feet up on his desk and took a long drag, blowing the smoke into the air in satisfaction. His wristphone began to vibrate on his arm. He took another puff of his cigar and sat it in the ashtray, looking to see who was calling. The number was strangely encrypted. He pressed the side button.
“Dove.”
“Hello Nathan,” said the voice, immediately familiar to him. He looked at the wristphone and saw the President’s face. Holding the side button, he turned on his camera.
“Hello, Mrs. President,” he replied, taking his feet down from his desk.
“Thank you for that…favor,” she said, maintaining a vague level of conversation, “you scratch my back, and like promised, I will scratch yours.”
“Well, Mrs. President,” he said confidently, “you won’t have any problems with me.”
“Good,” she said, smiling, “Now all I need to do is call my three friends and send them some…complimentary gifts.”
MON, MAY 22nd, 2034
Alexandria, VA, USA
7:05 am
T he next morning Michael came down the stairs, bookbag in hand, excited for the first time to go to school. He had an obvious bounce in his step, one that Manny snickered at when he saw Michael coming. The SMART TV was still on the news as Ms. Tanya placed plates down on the table, getting ready to serve the children grits from a large two-handled pot. She had been following the story all night, interested in anything to talk about.
Michael stopped to watch the newscast. It was one of the more interesting shows. Chip Henderson was flamboyantly charismatic, giving people the stock market breakdown in easy to digest chunks. He wore a red suit jacket with a blue shirt, and a yellow bowtie with blue polka dots. If nothing else, he was fun to watch.
“Listen folks, I don’t know about strange objects flying around Mars. All I know is…” he threw his arms up in the air as an alarm went off with flashing lights, “invest in…TELESCOPES!”
Michael giggled.
“They’re flying off the shelves. Shares in telescope companies are up three hundred percent! And the stocks…yeah…you guessed it. KABOOM!”
--- 7:39 am ---
Michael walked into the school with confidence. One week until graduation and life wasn’t kicking him around anymore. Tony the jock saw him walking in and stopped him to shake his hand, saying what’s up before heading toward his locker. On his way past the bathroom, he saw Cynthia talking with her friends. She saw him, immediately started in his direction, and gave him a hug.
“Hey,” she said, how are you?”
“Better now,” he said, “and you?”
“I’m good.”
She walked him all the way to his locker and then he walked her to class. They talked and laughed, taking their time and enjoying each other’s company.
“I really enjoyed the party,” he said.
She chuckled, “Yeah, well, me too. My brother likes you so you’re welcome to come over whenever. My dad doesn’t mind as long as Derek’s there.”
“Cool,” he replied, finding his smooth demeanor and confidence.
After he dropped her off at the classroom, he continued to his class. It was Mrs. Robles class. He desperately hoped she didn’t pick at him today. He was having a good morning. When he rounded the corner he saw Mr. Marlow, who stopped him in the hallway.
“Hey, Michael, can I talk to you for a second?”
Mr. Marlow handed Michael an manila envelope with a stack of papers. He looked at the first one. It said ‘Florida State Admissions’.
“There’s some reading materials in there for you and an application. I made a few calls over there and I think I might be able to pull something off for you. I’ve already sent them your transcripts. Finish the application and I’ll scan it and send it out for you.”
--- 6:41 pm ---
That evening in his room, he opened his book bag and pulled out the application. The money was still in there, although he had forgotten about it mostly. He still needed to find a safe place for it, but it seemed that his bag was working out so far whereas he never parted from it. He pulled out the application and filled it out entirely; double checking to make sure everything was accurate.
As he shoved the paperwork back into his book bag Tee came through the door, dirty and grimy from working hard at his day job.
“What’s up,” said Tee, taking off his uniform.
“What’s up,” said Michael.
Tee kicked off his shoes and undressed down to his boxers, grabbing his towel and heading toward the bathroom. Michael waited a moment and then reached behind his mattress and retrieved the journal from its hiding spot:
Every day, things get harder for me
For all of us here
But we must push through
It’s about survival
The most primal of instincts
But, it is much more
It is the measure of character
The measure of grit and perseverance
The strength to keep hope alive
It is instilled in everyone
We must use it like fuel
We continue searching…
Michael felt his wristphone vibrate. He looked down at his wrist, then pressed and held the side button. It was Cynthia.
“Hey babe,” she said, “what’re you doing?”
“Just reading,” he said, “And you?”
“Oh, I’m just getting something to eat before I go to track practice,” she replied.
“What are you eating?”
“Tostones, rice, and beans,”
“I could’ve guessed that,” he said jokingly.
“Shut up,” she said, “you’re so rude.”
“I’m just kidding,” he rebutted playfully.
“So…tell me why Gianna comes to me crying today, right? Apparently, Bucky started snapping on her and accused her of liking you or something,” she sighed, “He’s such a weirdo. He always tries to act tough, but you see how my brother and his friends always clown on him and he never does anything? But seriously?! Why would Gianna like you? I think Bucky’s just jealous of you.”
She rambled on about Bucky and Gianna for the next ten or fifteen minutes. Michael just listened and made occasional comments.
“Anyway, let me get myself ready for this practice,” she finally said.
“Okay,” replied Michael, “do you still want me to come over this Friday?”
“Yes,” she said excitedly, “why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Ok, well, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Okay, cool.”
After she hung up, Michael put his phone back in his pocket and opened the diary back up. He flipped the page to the next entry:
Today we’ve made a breakthrough
Most astounding, indeed
We are starting to begin to understand
But there is much more work to be done
I contemplate often, upon the nature of hope
I hope for the best
I hope for success in our efforts
This is our legacy
We, the ones who dared to endure
Keeping hope alive
He closed the book, pondering hope. He had hoped for his mother to be well for so long, until he couldn’t hope any longer. At times, hope was simply a coping mechanism. But, his mother w
ould have wanted him to keep hope alive. No matter what. She hoped that he would become a great man. Meet a nice woman. Start a family. He hoped that he would make her proud.
TUES, MAY 23rd, 2034
Alexandria, VA, USA
10:40 am
T he next day at school was exciting. The students were getting fitted for their caps and gowns in the auditorium. Michael snuck over and stood next to Cynthia in line. She was noticeably thrilled. Her plan was to go to Virginia Tech like her brother, yet she promised that she would come visit him in Florida. The thought of them being so far apart once college started made him sad, although he never had the nerve to show it.
“Mr. Marlow,” he said to the principal, tapping his arm with the back of his hand as he walked past.
“What’s up Michael?”
Michael reached into his book bag and pulled out the completed application, handing it to him, “Here ya go.”
“Okay,” he said, looking over the paperwork to confirm it was completed properly, “Cool. Swing by my office at the end of the day and we’ll send it out.”
--- 4:28 pm ---
When he finally made it home, Manny approached him first.
“Where were you, man?” he said, “I was waiting for you out front of the school.”
“I stayed after for a little while,” he replied.
“Oh, okay,” he said, his worry dissipating, “wanna play ball with us?”
“Sure,” he replied, “let me put my bag away and change into some shorts.”
After a few games of full court basketball, the kids returned to the group home laughing and being rowdy. When they entered the home, Ms. Tanya was watching the news in confusion.
“You okay, Ms. Tanya?” Michael asked, “What’s going on?”
“More news about those…well, whatever they are,” she said, “I’m not sure what’s going on!”
Michael shook his head and made his way upstairs to his room to grab a towel. After one of the boys exited the bathroom with a flush of the toilet, Michael entered and turned on the shower. Contemplating in the shower as he often did, he thought about the money. He wanted to use it for college like his mother had designated it for, but he was concerned that someone might ask questions. You don’t just pop up in a group home with thirty thousand dollars and no job. The immediate implications would be criminal. He had to find another way. But what could anyone do to him if he honestly hadn’t stolen the money…besides ask him to prove where he got it from. Maybe not the brightest idea, since she hadn’t left a will or anything. He would hold onto it for now. Maybe he could go downtown and ask a lawyer.