CHAPTER 70
An older, slow-moving woman in a long kaftan and headpiece appeared out of the shadows to place her hands on Truby’s shoulders as if they knew each other once upon a time.
“Obaba?” Truby was shocked she was still alive. She’d heard rumors.
Obaba nodded, her beautiful deep-sea blue eyes filled with pride and dignity. “Every day I say I’m ready, but I guess da Universe saved me for dis day. I might see you in a dress yet.”
“And the others?” Truby was still having trouble linking her past with the present.
“Here,” Obaba said kindly. “Your friends have been with you for days.”
Truby was confused. How could that be? A migraine that had begun in the flying vehicle when Zedd and Hector took her was steadily growing worse. Not now, she pleaded. Not now! As she scanned the faces of the off-gridders, she began connecting their changed faces to the images in the video squares all those times they’d worked together via the darknet when Truby was fronting the Hatchett Report all those years ago.
Was the Universe giving her a chance to right her every wrong?
Truby hugged Obaba fiercely before rushing back on stage. “As you just witnessed, the Global Security Council’s plans haven’t been without controversy. Behind the scenes, country pitted itself again country, all vying for the opportunity to be the first to launch the monumental project on their soil.
“Our next segment will show what happens when one country accuses another of, when…” Truby stopped.
Stage right Dean, or Hemmy, looked at Studebaker in confusion. “What’s she doing?”
“Oh, boy,” Studebaker lamented. “She’s going rogue. She did that occasionally back in the day.”
“You’re her mentor!” Hector exclaimed. “She told us about you!”
“Oh, yeah?” Studebaker gloated, “What’d she say?”
“Come on, Truby,” Cadence cringed. In the PNN tower media center, Cadence stood tensely over the master control media console as she watched Truby on the monitor.
“Rather than dwell on negativity,” Truby smiled. “Let’s take a moment to honor those who have dedicated their lives to WREN in the name of ending global water conflict, sustainable renewable energy, and reversing global warming.”
“I don’t have video for that!” yelled Cadence.
“What’s wrong?” asked Coby. Holt still held his National Guard laser rifle that had chased PNN personnel from the building.
“She’s off script! I’m just winging it here. I don’t know how to run PNN!”
“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Truby smiled warmly toward someone off camera. “One of the child geniuses behind the water project, my son, Hempstead Dean Hatchett. You may already know him as Dean Hempstead.”
In the ballroom, Truby waved in a reluctant Hemmy in to join her onstage as the camera rotated toward off-gridders clapping wildly, the elite sinking in their seats. Though she could never bring Claire and Devlin back, she could begin the healing. If in front of the whole world, so be it.
Finally, standing beside her, Hemmy gave a nod to his new fan club.
“I’m going to tell the truth. I never got a chance to say publicly how proud I am of you, and to thank you for giving up years of your youth in service of humanity.” She hugged an embarrassed Hemmy to loud applause. “I would be remiss if I didn’t also thank your favorite newsman and mine, my mentor, Loren Studebaker.”
Offstage, Studebaker didn’t miss his unscripted cue. He strode toward the stage as if he’d just won an Emmy, pulling Truby into a bear hug. The off-gridders obliged with more applause.
“Gentlemen, what do you say we get on with the evening’s most important news, shall we?”
“I can’t imagine a more—”
“Let’s do this!” Hemmy cut Stu off.
From this moment forward, time stood still. The roof blown off the epic waterfall, Truby stood under the murky belt of the Milky Way, expanding beyond her body. No longer a man, she couldn’t see the woman either. She kept expanding until the idea that she was Thomas Ruby or even Truby was but a blinking star amongst the other neighboring twinkling stars and planets where she floated in space.
Every word Truby spoke magnified inside her head until the voice was unidentifiable and sexless. Who was speaking she had no idea. Instead of panicking at the loss of control, Truby allowed a feeling of serenity to swirl around her like the Aurora Borealis taunting Earth with a little bit of Heaven. Truby’s aching head was only noticeable enough to keep her from floating away. Maybe that was pain’s purpose. Somewhere down there, her work was unfinished.
“Next, we have a special live interview,” Truby continued. “You’ve been waiting for more information on the global state of emergency and The Hatchett Report has it. In our audience, we have the luxury of several world leaders, waiting to provide you that information. President Cane? Secretary-General Arya?”
The camera’s eyeball in the overhead multi-media device swiveled to catch Cane and Arya sitting side-by-side with frozen expressions, a cross between a fake smile and sheer terror.
Nearby another woman’s hand lifted as she bounced excitedly like a gameshow contestant.
“We have a volunteer!” said Hemmy.
Arya was about to bolt when Truby said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Vice-President Olivia Flores.”
Flores quickly made her way onstage.
Truby used Dean’s stage name so as not to confuse viewers. “Now, Dean, as an investigative reporter, what questions do you have for Vice-President Flores that will help our global audience understand the past several days’ events.” Truby stepped back and then offstage.
Dean was caught off-guard, the pit of his stomach dropping to his knees. How could she do this to him?
Feeling the heat of the lights overhead, he suddenly realized this was his baptism by fire. He could react sharply and fail, or he could respond gracefully, turning this moment into an opportunity.
He used his genius to think quickly.
CHAPTER 71
“Vice-President Flores, just a few short days ago, you declared a global state of emergency. Can you tell us why and what’s changed since then?”
Flores, too, took a moment as she surveyed the faces of her colleagues forced to remain seated by strangers. The room was silent as if balancing precariously between order and chaos.
“Dean, what I can share with you is that after experiencing the terrible earthquake here in New Las Vegas, it was initially thought it had damaged...”
Offstage, Loren Studebaker punched Truby in the arm. “A chip off the old block, eh?”
Loren was still Loren after all these years. A big heart, with an ego to match. “Glad to see you came out of retirement. India or Thailand, was it?”
“Yeah, something like that. But, does he remind you of someone?”
“Yeah, me,” said Truby. So much for all those ashrams. Finally, she gave in to Loren’s pouting. “Thank you, Loren, for watching over my son.”
Studebaker beamed, “Well, it wasn’t easy, let me tell you.”
He gave Truby a kiss on the cheek which was weird, but then, not really. Head pounding Truby turned her attention back toward her son, proud.
“You’ve just said the water superstructure has been operating without incident for twenty-four hours,” reiterated Dean Hempstead. “When will the global state of emergency be lifted?”
From their vantage point, Truby and Studebaker watched as Cane besieged Young in General Frohm’s empty seat, mouthing expletives as smiling off-gridders rested hands on their shoulders.
“That’s why we’re live with you now! In less than two minutes, at midnight New Las Vegas time, the global state of emergency will be over!”
Global leaders and off-gridders looked at one another, incredulous. “It’s over!” Another cried, “Traitor!” just as a fracas began.
Dean quickly put up his hand to bring back order. “We’ve got another two
minutes before we celebrate.” Dean shifted on his feet taking his time as he formulated his next question. “Now... this is important. Most of our viewers probably aren’t aware that the water desalination process, the method used to remove salt from seawater, relies heavily on what is called Rare Earth minerals. Where do they come from and who’s in charge of ensuring we have enough?”
“Well,” Flores hesitated.
Maybe Flores didn’t know. Truby, Dean and the world waited expectantly. Even Cane and Young stared straight ahead for the answer.
“The minerals are found in mineable concentrations globally. However, China and the United States are in a bilateral trade agreement to equally share those responsibilities.”
A bloodless coup in front of the entire world, on live media. The off-gridders abruptly broke into the applause they’d been holding back.
No sign of coward Frohm, Stenberg leaped over his table like Ike Turner to dive on top of Young.
Several tables over, Chinese President Zhang smiled slightly. The West had been beaten at their own game—and so had she.
Wu appeared next to General Chen, chair in hand, bowing. A sharp head nod signaled the soldier had permission to sit behind him.
“Buki!” Truby exclaimed as the din of the roar of mixed reaction continued despite Dean’s attempts to control the melee. Her eyes filled with tears. Truby’s head throbbed, but the euphoric feeling was still with her, her feet barely touching the ground.
Zedd rushed in with his computer, “Hey, Truby. That exposé? You know the one with collusion and corruption?”
“We’re not running it. I— We had a plan. Isn’t that right, Princess Rose?” Truby stroked the little girl’s soft cheek. “It’s our insurance policy. Meanwhile, every person here is going to go home and get a second chance to step into the light.”
“Well done, Truby.” said Pete softly.
“I told you women would save the world,” Rose grinned.
Truby put a hand on Pete’s arm, “I’m sorry about your lady, Old Faithful.”
“Don’t you worry about me,” Pete whispered. “I got the old lady I really wanted.” Pete opened his arm to receive Rose’s mother, Andrea.
“That’s all I came for, to get these two back together,” Rose said with satisfaction. The little family hugged as everyone turned to watch the finale.
Off-gridders dragged Stenberg, Young, Cane, and Arya out of the ballroom as they bickered and jabbed at one another.
“Frohm!” Stenberg yelled. “Deserter!”
“Vice-President Flores, your good news comes at a time when the world desperately needs to hear it,” finished Dean. “Thank you for being on our show. I think that concludes the first ever simulcast of The Hatchett Report. I’m Hempstead Dean Hatchett. Peace!”
Suddenly, a series of loud explosions caused many off-gridders and dignitaries to duck for cover until a wall of glittering white and gold fireworks filled the floor to ceiling windows doubling as media screens. The fireworks, meant to celebrate the new GSC Unified One World Government, instead became a symbol of freedom from tyranny and oppression like a white dove.
Truby followed by Studebaker, Pete and Rose rushed the stage to hug Hemmy as he received a standing ovation.
There were tears of happiness and tears of despair as the global leaders and elite slumped in their seats. Glassy-eyed, some drained any champagne flute filled with liquid they could find, while others woodenly walked around in a stupor.
When Obaba reached the stage, Truby asked her, “How did they know it wasn’t me?”
Ever since the news story about China sabotaging their own dam had aired on the Hatchett Report, the one that had gotten her family killed, Hatchett had been blacklisted and labeled a traitor by the resistance movement as well as in the world of journalism.
“You don’t voiceover your reports.”
Elevator doors opened. Already out of breath, a woman in heels sprinted the last twenty feet, dashing through ballroom doors.
On the other side, both men smiled, happy to see her. Cadence flung herself into their arms for they had waited like they’d promised.
“Black market, just like I said!” she exclaimed.
Cadence had secretly used her security clearance to track down the California’s Mountain Pass Rare Earth Elements Mine corporate filings and numerous shell corporations. General Frohm’s billionaire wife coincidentally held board positions on all of the companies leasing Grand Canyon public lands mineral rights from the government.
Linked arm in arm with Hector and Zedd, Cadence in the middle, they joined the others on stage, raising their fists in triumph as they wolf-howled. Truby didn’t know Zedd was responsible for the Hatchett Report fake China news story. And they hoped she never would.
Off-gridders, former Hatchett Report personnel, Truby’s friends and loved ones all raised their fists in victory, howling before an invisible moon shouting, “Truby! Truby!”
Her arm around Hemmy, Truby turned to ask the question she’d waited more than a decade for the answer. “What was it you wanted to tell me that day in the hospital?”
Hemmy continued to wave to his new friends, but he visibly choked up. Truby could wait. She had already waited a lifetime.
Finally, Hemmy wiped his eyes with the back of his palm. Looking into her eyes, he leaned in, “That I don’t blame you for what happened to Mom and Dev. And... I love you.”
It was finally over. Tears brimming on the edge of Truby’s private waterfall made their way down her cheeks.
Just as the fireworks that filled the two-story windows began to die down, new ones dappled her vision. She saw the moon, too. It grew brighter, the glowing orb filling her landscape, its craters large enough to swallow her whole. It’s so beautiful, she thought.
And that’s when the night went black.
EPILOGUE
Studebaker set his oversized soft pretzel down to reach inside a small cooler for a Kombucha. Hemmy was tossing his childhood little league baseball Truby had saved for him nervously from hand to hand. It was the bottom of the seventh inning, and the game was tied.
“I take it you like baseball as much as Truby,” Stu asked while chewing.
“Playing more than watching. Truby likes it because it reminds her of when America still seemed innocent. You know, a simpler time.”
“Ignorance is bliss, that kinda thing.”
“It’s bliss until it bites you in the ass.”
Studebaker belched loudly before pulling his Hatchet Report baseball cap down over his eyes for a snooze.
An hour later, Studebaker awoke to an expletive. “What? What’s wrong?”
Hemmy just shook his head.
A news ticker scrolled across the bottom of the media screen: Bomb Scare at the New Las Vegas Global Water Superstructure
Next, PNN went to talking head, General Terrance Young, for insight and analysis. An image of Chinese Bodyguard, Wu, filled the screen.
Hemmy shut off the media screen to stretch out on the sofa.
Jarred from his restless nap, Studebaker leaned over Hemmy, loose skin hanging down like a silver-haired Buddha. “Say, I’ve meant to ask you. Do you mind being a guy?”
“What?” Hemmy put a foot on the floor, still somewhat dazed. He’d been dreaming of being back in Sweden working on the water project. “Well... I don’t know.”
“I’m just asking because what if your moth—I mean your fath—er. What if Truby decides, you know.”
“You’re making me feel like I need therapy just to answer that.”
Just then, the door to the private waiting room opened. The hospital’s chief of surgery entered.
“I have good news,” the woman smiled, “and I have other news.”
Hemmy and Studebaker glanced nervously at one another...
Bonus Author Q&A
Q: Who is Truby Goodman?
A: Truby personifies the schism between two worlds that is currently playing out on the world stage. In reality, it�
�s the human existential dilemma when you lose sight of your inner compass. The greater the degree of darkness, the greater the suffering not only for the individual but for humanity collectively. Conversely, as consciousness expands and you let go of self-limiting concepts and ideas, suddenly you see and, more importantly, are open to unlimited possibility. This is the realm of miracles.
Q: What is the schism?
A: It will be revealed as the series progresses. Storyline and subplots richly layered, some readers will easily grasp the metaphoric meanings conveyed through Truby’s personal challenges that go beyond skin deep to the very core of her being as she wrestles with an identity veiled in subterfuge. Other readers will learn to navigate our changing world along with Truby as the novel series progresses. For those simply interested in good storytelling intertwined with history, politics, science, and philosophy, you’ll find Truby’s exploits to be the dramatic next-generation mystery/thriller you are looking for that will keep you reading into the night, hungry for more.
CHRISTINE HORNER was nominated for the 2014 Dayton Literary Peace Prize for nonfiction and is co-founder of the What Would Love Do Foundation. After several out-of-body experiences showed Christine we literally become limitless when we consciously merge, mind, body, and spirit, she turned to writing to help readers discover the miraculous within. Christine enjoys family, cooking, tennis, yoga, and travel. Connect more deeply by subscribing to Christine’s blog, Your Brilliant Future Here Now.
www.ChristineHorner.com
www.YourBrilliantFutureHereNow.com
www.WhatWouldLoveDo.org
www.Facebook.com/hornerchristine
www.Twitter.com/authorhornerc
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