by Platt, Sean
“At least?”
Charlie ticked his head toward Cameron. “Nobody’s made it to the bottom.”
“Nobody?”
Benjamin shrugged. “They’ve tried and tried. Six people have died over the years. Excavations have come from the top, drilled in from the sides. They’ve tried to drop cameras. Nothing works.”
“It keeps flooding,” Charlie explained, picking up a marker from a dry-erase board and sketching a series of lines. “Someone built a rather ingenious hydraulic system under Oak Island to booby-trap what everyone assumes is some sort of a vault.”
Charlie sketched a crudely oval shape to indicate the island as seen from above, drawing arrows at three points around its periphery.
“At one point, treasure hunters poured red paint down the shaft and it came out from at least three vents around the island. It’s a puzzle box, and nobody knows where all of the canals and inflows are. They only know that every time someone tries to excavate, it floods and collapses.”
“There are all sorts of theories as to what’s down there,” Benjamin said. “My favorites are crown jewels, the original works of Shakespeare, and — the granddaddy of them all — the Ark of the Covenant. I started having my doubts when, in just the past few years, more pits were discovered. Not at the ‘brain’ points I was showing you earlier, like Vail and Giza, but at places like Oak Island and … well … Moab, Utah, at the most haunted place in North America. Though sadly, nobody credits us with that title.” Again, he smiled.
“What does this have to do with—”
“Nothing. You asked.” Cameron pointed at the ceiling. “But like Charlie was saying — at least I think it’s what he was saying; he’s such a complex personality …” They both looked over at Charlie, his bug eyes staring at Benjamin from beneath what looked like an Amish haircut, his hands flat on his knees, his slacks pressed, and his shirt buttoned to the top. “ … we didn’t get lucky with this lab. We bought the property and built here because we assumed that when contact was made, the ships would come to places like this first. Places with ‘money pits.’”
“Why?”
“To refuel, we think. Or maybe to recharge. Our working theory is that for short-range travel, like from Jupiter—”
Cameron laughed.
“Well, that is short-range. Sub-relativistic speeds, as opposed to …” Cameron looked at Charlie. “I could really go down a dozen rabbit holes. I guess I should save that bit for later.”
“You could.” Charlie clearly couldn’t care less.
“For short-range travel, we assume they’re firing on stored hydrogen, which they may be able to skim from atmospheres or from what now seem to be possible ‘hydrogen rivers’ in space. But today there are motherships parked over places like Oak Island and here, with ion trails between the spheres and these old pits. We assume that means the pits have opened, but given the way ships have reacted to tampering in the past, I’m not exactly dying to walk over and see.”
“This place is a gas station for them,” Charlie said. “Once we figured that out, it made sense that they’d come to these places rather than their old points of contact.”
“What do you mean?” Cameron asked.
Benjamin sighed then stood and turned the chair around so he could again sit with his hands atop his knees.
“Cameron, I know you never really believed and—”
“I started believing when ships came from the sky. I was wrong.”
There was more, too. Cameron wasn’t just wrong; he was sorry. Unbelievably sorry. Resentment had dogged him between leaving home and hearing the news from Astral. Regret and guilt had been his cancer since. He’d been able to relax a bit after completing Benjamin’s errand, gathering enough information (and one helpful wife) to fill out his profile on Meyer Dempsey and, it seemed, help articulate a rather grand theory. But he hadn’t said enough yet that he was sorry for all the past wrongs, and until Cameron could summon the nerve to do so, the wound would stay open.
“Then you remember what we saw. All the sites we visited.”
Cameron did. Of the nine highly networked spots Benjamin had shown them on his newly complete map of stones — the nine spots where, Benjamin seemed to think, human thoughts were being collected and reported — Cameron and Benjamin had visited eight together. Vail had been the only one missed: the sole spot about which Ancient Astronauts theorists knew nothing. There were no pyramids at Vail, no Mayan temples, no buried cities, no ancient stone megalithic structures. But Meyer, it seemed, was one of The Nine, and Vail somehow one of the sacred places.
“I remember.”
“All are places where extraterrestrials have visited in the past. All places where, it stands to reason, they will contact us again. You know I’ve been waiting for this,” Benjamin twirled his fingers in the air, presumably indicating the whole of the alien ships’ occupation,“for my entire life. But the problem is that even as much as I’ve been waiting, there’s a lot to fear.”
“Fear?” Cameron knew fear well, as did everyone these days. But his father wasn’t afraid of the ships or the aliens, even after what they’d done to Moscow and what Dan had said they’d done to some of the campers at Vail … and to Vincent. That could all be a misunderstanding, Benjamin seemed to think — same for all the alien abductions in the past, slaughtered animals, reports of rectal probings. For Benjamin to speak of fear was deeper somehow — more chilling than another man’s terror.
“I think we’re facing a test, and I’m optimistic in spite of everything — I want you to know that. But our past, thus far, is definitely against us.” Benjamin shifted, looked at Charlie, and continued. “Some of this is stated by theory, and some is new information, but it’s clear that throughout history, alien visitors have contacted humanity. It’s equally clear that those encounters have all ended with utter destruction. Floods. Descriptions in the Bhagavad Gita and other ancient texts of what sounds suspiciously like a nuclear holocaust.”
Cameron’s eyes flicked toward the door, toward the exit, toward where Piper had gone alone. He was being ridiculous, but he suddenly wanted her here with him after all.
“Throughout history, they’ve always contacted us,” Benjamin said, leaning forward. “But as far as the records show, ‘contact’ has always been phase one.”
Cameron swallowed. “What’s phase two?”
Charlie answered. “Extermination.”
Chapter Forty-Five
The voice behind Lila made her jump.
“What are you doing?” it hissed.
She spun and grabbed a flashlight so she wouldn’t need to turn on the overheads, but halfway across the living room realized turning on the beam would give her away. She kept it off but handy, turning to face her inquisitor.
A strong hand caught Lila’s wrist, another pulled the heavy flashlight from her unprotesting grip. She’d whacked the man with her big belly anyway, and braced to see if the fetus might scream from inside, yelling at her to watch where the fuck she was swinging that thing. But it didn’t work that way, and she was still present-minded enough to know better.
Lila blinked in the dark, her way lit only by the small glowing night lights. She assumed it was Raj, her heartbeat ready to recede. The heavy door to the generator room had swung shut behind her mother and brother, and she doubted they’d hear her now. Lila had thought she’d managed to extricate herself from bed without waking Raj despite her wide load, but apparently not.
But it was Christopher — she could see his black goatee in the room’s scant light, his olive skin several shades lighter than Raj’s mahogany complexion.
“Easy, Jesus. You about brained me with this thing.” He clicked on the light. Lila grabbed for it in a tangle of hands and arms, covering the lens before killing it.
“Shh!”
“What are we shushing for?” He looked around the dark room. “And what the hell are you doing out here with the lights off? The bathroom is that way.”
Lila poi
nted at the generator room. “My mom and Trevor are in there.”
“Why?”
Lila shook her head. It was tricky to explain. She didn’t precisely think her mother was losing her mind, but if she told Christopher what Heather had told Lila, Christopher would think she was. Mom had told her she thought something was under the bunker — a system of curious underground canals that the builders had encountered and warned her father about but that he’d ignored — and Lila hadn’t been shocked to learn that she’d been curious enough to scratch her itch by digging in concrete. The same itch had been within Lila for nearly half a year, though her source hadn’t been clever enough to suggest a way to verify or deny what she felt. It sounded as if Mom had a direct line to Dad, and that wasn’t fair. Lila’s … intuition? Was that what it was? It seemed to be filtered through her mind and preconceptions, perhaps because the baby didn’t yet have a mind of its own.
That made sense. It would be crazy to assume a fetus could be logical. Believing something like that would mean she was nuts.
“They just are.”
“It’s all burned.”
Lila snapped, still whispering, now dragging Christopher into the kitchen nook for a semblance of privacy. “I know it’s burned! You did that when you invited yourself in here!”
He raised his hands, surrendering. “Okay, just saying.” His eyes ticked toward the open door to Heather’s bedroom, which also happened to be Lila’s. “Hey. How long do you think they’ll be in there?”
“Why?”
He shrugged.
“I told you. We’re over.”
“Then why did I take a shower with you the other day?”
“Because you barged in.”
“And you kicked me out, right? You resisted when I—”
“Not now, Christopher.”
The topic broached, he didn’t want to let it go. She’d successfully deflected him for weeks, failing to deny him nearly as well when he was less conversational. Lila hated herself for it, but had to admit she rather enjoyed the way he was aroused by her changing body rather than being repulsed. Raj had put the baby in there, but seemed to be going through the motions, working around her belly when they could scrape a moment alone in the middle of the night. He was tolerating it. Lila supposed she was less than insistent with Christopher because he seemed to enjoy her anyway. And because she wasn’t strong enough — too guilty about deeds already done — to take a stand.
“Why not now? It’s quiet. You’re up. I’m up.”
“Why are you up?”
“Because you’re up.”
“I was totally quiet.”
“Well,” he admitted, “I know you usually get up around this time to pee. So I was, um, kind of waiting.”
“You were watching Raj’s door, just waiting?”
“Do you have sex with him in there? With Dan right there in the cot?”
“None of your business.”
“Just sleeping together, huh. Literally?”
He was trying to wrap his hands around Lila’s waist, below her bulge. When she rebuffed him, hands went higher, suspiciously near her enlarging boobs. He liked those, too.
“Get off! They could come out any minute!”
“Who?”
“My mom and Trevor. Who do you think I was talking about?”
“Dunno. Terrence? Dan?”
Lila shook her head. Christopher wasn’t concerned about what was going on in the generator room at all. He was only thinking of Lila, as always. If she let him — and she had before, though it had been a terrible idea and she’d regretted it immediately, even during — he’d bend her over the table right now. Breakfast the next day, sitting with Raj and wondering if she’d left tit impressions in the butter dish, had been uncomfortable.
“Let’s talk about us, Li.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m not kidding. You won’t talk to me about it any other time. You say we’re through, but then every time I come to you …”
He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Lila could provide her own endings.
… you do it with a look of guilt on your face because that ship has already sailed. You do it because your hormones leave you wanting more than Raj is providing. You do it because you’re too weak to resist. You do it because you’re convinced that if you don’t do it, I’ll tell Raj what’s going on, and has been for months without you stopping it, despite the pretense that you want to.
“Shh!”
“I’ve had a long day, Lila.”
“Shh, Christopher!”
“A long day protecting everyone here.”
“I’m not going to have sex with you. I’m with Raj, do you hear me?”
“Hmm. And yet here we are.”
“Because you were stalking me!”
“Protecting you.”
“You’re living underground, same as the rest of us.”
“You didn’t think that when I stepped up and took care of Morgan for you.”
Lila pushed past him. She wanted to get away, without being seen. Her mother and Trevor really could come out any second, and Lila didn’t want her mother to know she was onto her. They’d acted casual when they’d realized they’d had the same visions but different ideas of what to do. Lila knew that they had to destroy whatever was below her father’s “spiritual place.” But Heather, who claimed to be in communication with Dad (in dreams; how crazy was that?), said that his order was to protect the Axis, not harm it.
Protect it like the aliens want to protect it? Lila had said, keeping her voice calm, hiding her emotion.
Protect it like your father wants it protected, her mother corrected.
“Where are you going?” Christopher whisper-demanded, following Lila, at least catching on and keeping his voice low.
“To my room!”
“My room is over there.”
Lila rolled her eyes, knowing he wouldn’t see.
Christopher suddenly caught her arm, turned Lila around, and kissed her. It would have been a sweet kiss if it had come at an appropriate time, if she weren’t scared shitless, and if his affections hadn’t evoked both “lustfully desired” and “desperately unwanted” in Lila for a while now.
She pushed him away. He looked wounded.
“What?”
“You asshole. Are you really this dense?” Again, Lila pointed toward the closed generator room door. “Do you know what they’re doing in there? They’re conspiring. Planning against us. It was bad enough when it was just her. Just my mom. But now she has Trevor, too!”
“I can talk to Trevor.” Christopher shrugged.
She paused. That was true. Trevor and Christopher were tight. It was usually infuriating because that gave Lila one less person (her brother) to confide in. But it could be an asset.
“That’s a good idea.”
Lila dragged Christopher into her room and closed the door most of the way — just ajar enough to peek through. If she saw them coming, she could still rush Christopher through the bathroom. He’d need to sneak by Terrence to get through to the living room, but that was better than being caught.
Christopher looked excited. She’d have to walk a fine line. If he came at her, Lila doubted she’d be able to resist — for about a dozen reasons, tinged with a dozen emotions.
“Talk to Trevor. Tell him that whatever my mom told him, it’s wrong.”
“What did he tell her?”
Lila waved it away. Time was limited, and that was another day’s discussion. “Tell him that you agree with me.”
“About what?”
“Chris,” she said. “Have you seen anything around here? Heard anything?”
“Like what?”
“Have you had dreams?”
He reached for her. “Dirty dreams.”
“Not like that. Dreams of a … a pit. Something below us.” Lila inhaled, held it, exhaled. Christopher followed her like a puppy when he thought she might be willing to pay him attention
then grew frosty and even slightly frightening when she turned a cold shoulder. If she could keep things friendly, he’d at least listen to anything.
“Dreams that there’s something here,” she continued carefully, now taking Christopher’s hands, “that the aliens want to keep safe.” Lila sighed again, steeling her courage to convey the latest impression she’d been funneled from whatever psychic well was out there to be sampled by the life inside her. “Something that they left behind the last time they were here. Something I think they need to plug into, as the next phase of their plan.”
“The aliens?”
“Yes, Chris.” Rolling her thumbs softly over the backs of his strong hands.
“How could you possibly know their plans?”
“I just do.”
He watched her for a long moment. Lila kept her eyes on his, feigning vague affection, hoping with all her heart that her mother and brother wouldn’t choose this time to emerge, to approach the bedroom and break this vital moment.
“Okay,” he said. “I trust you.”
“Do you think if we talked to Terrence, and carefully explained things, with you being your charming and convincing best, that he might be willing to help us?”
“I guess that depends on what we’re trying to convince him to help us do.”
Us. He’d said us and we. Lila exhaled a little; the ball was halfway there.
“But we’ll try.”
“Of course. Whatever you think is best.” Christopher’s hand went to her belly and rubbed it softly through her shirt. Lila leapt at his touch and felt the baby leap. “Whatever’s best for us.”
“Good.”
“What do we need to do?”
Lila told him.
Chapter Forty-Six
“Cameron.”
Cameron took his time looking up. It had been late when he’d spoken with Benjamin and Charlie the first time, and was later now. He hadn’t cared for Charlie’s declaration about humanity’s record with extraterrestrials according to historical evidence, so he’d spent an hour after the conversation browsing the lab’s records, spooling out one theory after another. It was just as crazy as he remembered it being as a kid, with plenty of fresh insanity added to the databanks since.