Voice of the Elders

by Greg Ripley

  The way he saw it, he had gotten his just desserts in life. Those people suffering under climate change deserve what they get. As God’s chosen nation, America has been blessed, and as the most righteous among them, the well-heeled are right where they deserve to be.

  Like many adherents of Prosperity Theology, it would never occur to Simms that it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. It was a perfect way for the rich to assuage any guilty they might have about hoarding away wealth generation after generation; wealth so vast it would take a lifetime to figure out ways to spend it. The rich themselves were not entirely to blame for this philosophy. In many ways they were also victims; patsies to those greatest of all con artists, the televangelists who promoted it, getting rich themselves in the process.

  Instead of putting their wealth to good use helping others as his grandfather had, most of it sat, gathering dust, or whatever the electronic equivalent of dust was; money being an increasingly abstract concept these days. Oh sure, he gave some money to charity. They all did. Who doesn’t love a good tax write-off, after all? But a saint he most certainly was not, nor did he aspire to be. You wouldn’t catch him washing a homeless man’s feet, not in this lifetime. I’ll leave that to the pope. But washing money? That was another matter entirely.

  Simms had heard rumblings of what was being discussed behind the scenes, but hadn’t realized the full scope of the international community’s plans until the Joint Agreement was announced. They’ve gone whole-hog tree hugger. It was as though the “Keep it in the Ground” movement had staged a world-wide coup overnight. The markets were in turmoil. Fossil fuels were tanking, while the green energy sector was through the roof.

  While Simms loved a volatile market as much as the next vulture capitalist—there was always money to be made if you knew how to take advantage of the situation—he was not going to sit idly by and watch his family’s empire crumble around him. He knew there were others who felt the same way about the Joint Agreement and what it heralded. He’d already reached out to some of his friends and even some of his competitors to discuss what might be done to combat this threat.

  They would be meeting soon. What Simms needed now was information. He’d learned through his connections that unbeknownst to the public, some of the Earth Ambassadors had been hand-picked by the aliens. They must have known about these aliens before the incident at the UN and are conspiring with them. One way or another he would find out.

  Leaning forward over his desk, he pushed the intercom button on his phone, signaling his personal assistant.

  “Chelsea, get me Gruber.”

  8

  Blair House

  Washington, DC

  Rohini went back to her room, but she couldn’t shake her restlessness. She was getting anxious thinking about this sudden and quite unexpected new adventure she’d been thrust into. Knowing that she’d be somewhat cut off from her friends and family for the next several months at least, she wanted to reach out. She called up Jack, one of her friends in DC.

  “Jack, it’s Rohini. What are you doing tonight? Yes, I’m in DC! Can you get some of the old gang together? Who is still around? Awesome. Should we meet at the Black Rooster? Right, we can always go to Irish Whiskey if they’re packed. OK. See you then. Bye.”

  Rohini was excited and a little nervous as she hung up. Jack had been one of her closest friends in college. At times they’d been more than friends. They tried dating more than once but each time it became more apparent they made better friends than lovers. She was glad their attempts at a romantic relationship had never ended badly. They were both part of the same small circle of friends and it could be awkward in a close-knit group when things ended badly. She’d seen it happen more than once.

  An hour later, she left Blair House and made her way down Pennsylvania Avenue, veered left at H street and walked over to the Yard, as the campus quad was known. She hadn’t been back to George Washington University since graduation and wanted to take a quick stroll through campus before she headed north to meet Jack at the Black Rooster. It had been one of their favorite bars in college and she looked forward to seeing one of her old haunts.

  She took the diagonal path across the Yard and stopped in the middle for a moment, taking in the atmosphere of the Foggy Bottom campus which had once felt so familiar. It still did in a way, but it also seemed like another lifetime, though it had only been a few years. She turned a slow circle, looking at the buildings which enclosed the Yard on three sides, leaving it open to the north.

  She stopped as her eyes caught a sudden movement. She thought she had seen someone on the path she’d just walked down, but there didn’t appear to be anyone there. Sundown was approaching. Maybe it’s the twilight playing tricks on me. She recalled from one of her psychology classes that when visual information is missing, like in low light, the brain often fills in the gaps. That must be it.

  As she continued across campus, Rohini couldn’t shake the feeling she’d had back at the Yard. She was passing through Bausell Walk nearing 22nd street when the hairs started to stand up on the back of her neck. Is someone following me or am I losing it? Her emotions had certainly been a bit erratic lately. Being anxious wasn’t out of character, but she had never been paranoid.

  She took a few surreptitious glances over her shoulder as she pretended to admire some of the trees, but didn’t see anyone. She was starting to feel like she was going crazy. She was approaching the street when a van came screeching to a sudden halt right in front of her. Its side door opened and two men in black tactical gear and balaclavas jumped out, grabbing her arms on either side. A third figure knelt in the open door, pointing a gun at her.

  “Inside now!” he yelled.

  Rohini heard several loud bangs as a series of holes appeared in a line across the side of the van. The man in the open door fell to his side and remained still. The two men holding her loosened their grip as they looked around in alarm. Rohini took advantage of the distraction to jerk her arm free, then elbowed the man on her right, before turning back to her left, kicking the other man in the groin. As he doubled over, the first man grabbed her arm again—her blow having little effect—and shoved a gun into her ribs.

  “Get in the van, now,” he said, menace in his voice.

  Another shot rang out and the man she had kicked grunted and slumped to the ground. The last man standing swore and released her arm, grabbed his fallen comrade and helped him to his feet. He shoved him into the van and dove in after him.

  “Go! Go! Go!”

  The van’s tires squealed as it sped away, disappearing down the street. Rohini felt frozen in time. Slowly she realized someone was yelling her name. It sounded muffled, like being underwater. As the fog in her mind began to lift, time sped up, and suddenly everything got loud again. She turned when she heard her name again and saw Jane running towards her, a gun in her hand.

  “Are you OK? Are you hurt? Rohini! Are you hurt?”

  “No… No… I’m OK. I just… I just…” Rohini mumbled.

  “I know. It’s OK. It’s over. You’re safe, at least for now.”

  9

  The Simms Estate

  Westchester County, New York

  “Gruber, have you secured the girl?”

  “No, sir, Mr. Simms, my apologies. There were unforeseen complications.”

  “Unforeseen complications? Don’t give me that crap. What happened?”

  “We suffered casualties. One dead, one wounded. She was being tailed by security of some kind. We don’t know who yet, but they were good, stayed out of sight, definitely professional.”

  “We’ve got to assume they were government. Please tell me you weren’t followed.”

  “No, sir. We torched the van and covered our tracks well; there won’t be any trail to lead them back to us.”

  “They’ll keep her wrapped up tight now that we’ve tipped our hand. We’ll have to get
ahold of one of the others. Do we have any idea who the other ambassadors are yet?”

  “We’re working on it, sir. As far as we can tell the others are foreign nationals. Since the girl was at the UN that day, we’re working on the assumption that the others were as well. Many of them have gone back to their own countries. We’re narrowing it down as we speak.”

  “Alright, let me know when you’ve got something concrete. We need more intel before our little summit convenes with our friends. I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with before we decide our next steps.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And Gruber… don’t fail me again.”

  10

  As they sped through the Washington night, Rohini sat in shock. Five minutes after her savior appeared, Jane and Rohini were in the back seat of a blacked-out SUV being whisked across the city. In the front seat sat two men in suits with earpieces who were all business. Rohini guessed Secret Service. They reminded her of the agents she’d seen around the White House. Four more followed behind in another identical vehicle.

  “Where are they taking us, Jane?”

  “Someplace safe. We can’t go back to Blair House. The Secret Service will grab our stuff. The plan had been to stay in the city—the president wanted to keep you nearby so he could keep tabs on you—but after this I think we’ll have to reassess our plans.”

  “Who do you think they were? Why did they come after me?”

  “We don’t know yet, but it must have to do with the Elders. There’s nothing in your background that would account for this otherwise, unless there’s something you’ve kept from us,” Jane said.

  “I don’t have any idea why someone would come after me,” Rohini replied.

  “With your family’s connections, it’s possible it could have been a simple kidnapping, but with you being chosen to go with the Elders, I think it’s too much of a coincidence. There’s no way run-of-the-mill kidnappers looking for a ransom would have been able to pull this off anyway. They wouldn’t have been able to follow you here on such short notice. They would have gone after you in New York. Whoever they are, they’ve also got some pull. They must have had inside knowledge of your coming to DC.”

  “You mean they’re someone in the government?”

  “No, I don’t think we’ve got some rogue group in the government going after you—although that’s a possibility we’ll have to look into—more than likely it’s some loose lips and greased palms; someone bought off to provide intel on you. Greed is like a virus these days, infecting everything. I’m sure you realize you can’t go wandering off like that again after this. I was just being cautious following you; we had no idea anyone would come after you like that.”

  “Lucky for me you did. Thank you, Jane. You saved my life.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Rohini,” Jane said. “We don’t know that, and besides I was only doing my job.”

  “Well, it means a lot to me… Oh my God, Jack! I forgot I was going to meet him. I’d better call him so he knows I’m not coming.”

  “Alright, but don’t call him from your cell,” Jane said. “Here, use mine, it’s encrypted. We don’t want to take the chance they could track you, in fact just to be safe let’s turn your phone off for now—and don’t tell him what happened, Rohini. You’ll have to make something up.”

  Rohini took a couple deep breaths to steady her nerves, then dialed. “Jack, it’s Rohini. Look, I’m sorry but something’s come up… I won’t be able to get out tonight after all,” she said, tears starting to well up. “Ok. Yes, next time I’m in town, definitely. OK. Bye.” After Rohini hung up, her tears began to flow. Hearing Jack’s voice had been too much in her present state. In an attempt to hold back her emotions, she held her breath, not wanting to blubber in front of strangers. Eventually the knot in her gut felt tight enough to form a diamond. She could only hold that tension for so long, finally letting it out in a great sigh.

  They sat in silence for much of the drive, Rohini trying to process what had happened, Jane trying to piece together who these new players might be. Rohini didn’t know where they were taking her, but soon she noticed the scenery changing outside her window. She could tell they were leaving the city as sidewalks and parking lots gave way to more fields and trees.

  Soon they were in the countryside. They’d crossed the Potomac early on, so Rohini knew they were headed south. As they drove, she thought back to her days at George Washington. She rarely went south past Alexandria back then. When she did it was usually to go to Mt. Vernon. She loved to walk the grounds and look out over the Potomac. She was always curious to see which heirloom varieties they had growing in the vegetable gardens. Many were unique to Mt. Vernon.

  She would drive down and spend the day roaming the grounds when she needed a break, packing a lunch and having a picnic under the shade of the old trees lining the bowling green in front of the estate. Her favorite spot though, was the slave memorial.

  She always found it astonishing how a monument commemorating those who had suffered so much could be so peaceful, as though despite whatever terror and suffering they might have endured while living, the dead were now whispering to those left behind, “Do not weep for us, we are at rest. It is the living who need your care and compassion; it is you who need each other.” She found the thought soothing as they drove through the night.

  “You don’t suppose they’d let us stay at Mt. Vernon, do you?” Rohini said, only half joking.

  “You must be feeling better,” Jane said.

  “A little bit. I’m starting to calm down.”

  “Sorry, I don’t think Mt. Vernon is an option,” Jane replied. “We’re headed a bit farther south. Have you ever heard of Quantico?”

  “Isn’t that the FBI Academy?”

  “Among other things. It’s located on the Marine base there. Anyway, we thought it would be a good place to keep you safe now that someone has you in their sights. It’s got the facilities as well as the expertise for any kind of training we might want to put you through and we’re still only about an hour from the White House.”

  “They’re not going to put me through the academy, are they?”

  “No, we’ll stick with our original plan, other than the location. I’ll still do most, if not all, of your training, but having other students around may be useful. They often have agents or other outsiders come in to assist with training the new agents, so maybe we can bring you in from time to time in that capacity. Otherwise we’ll do our own thing.”

  “How could I help train agents?”

  “Can you act?”

  “I did a few plays in middle school. I don’t think I’ll be up for any awards.”

  “It’s not that big of a deal. They sometimes bring people in to role-play to help run the trainees through different scenarios. Just pretend you’re at the renaissance festival, Tinkerbell.”

  Rohini’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She wanted to melt into her seat. That was one of her guilty pleasures, one of the things she’d most looked forward to every fall, not just growing up, but even through college. She went all out, dressing up in costume every year. I shouldn’t be surprised. She probably knows all about me.

  “Humph, I’ll have you know I go dressed as a yakshini, thank you very much, not some cartoon fairy,” Rohini replied in mock indignation.

  Jane laughed. “Oh, I beg your pardon,” she said. “Alright, you’ve got me. What’s a yakshini?”

  “It’s like an Indian dryad. You know, like a tree spirit.”

  “Oh, right. How could I possibly get that confused with a fairy? We should have you dress as one of these yakshini at the academy and tell the trainees they’re going to practice raiding Burning Man.”

  “Ha, ha, very funny. Have your fun now, Jane. Maybe I’ll ask the president to let me go to one last renaissance festival, in case I never make it back from the Elde
rs’ planet. You’ll have to accompany me, and of course you’ll have to look the part—we couldn’t have you walking around looking like some government agent. I can see it now—a few flowers, some glitter and body paint—you’ll blend right in.”

  Rohini and Jane heard a snicker from the front seat and the two Secret Service agents shared a quick look with each other.

  “Alright, don’t get started, you two. What’s our ETA?” Jane asked.

  “We should be to the main gate in five, ma’am.”

  “I don’t know what’s worse, you two picturing me dressed up as a fairy or calling me ma’am.”

  They were expected, so after a quick wave through at the base guard post, they headed to a second gate a few miles into the woods at the FBI Academy. They took a little longer here as the security was tighter, but being escorted by Secret Service under orders from the White House greased some wheels. Before long they were on campus and headed to one of the academy’s dormitories.

  Two Secret Service agents preceded them inside, scanning the lobby. Two more followed behind Rohini and Jane, taking up posts just inside the doors. The last two agents remained with the vehicles. Once inside, they were greeted by one of the dormitory’s concierges.

  While dressed simply in khakis and a polo shirt, he still had that FBI look about him; youthful, fit, and squared away. He reminded Rohini of friends she’d had who were military. But there’s another quality there; a curiosity, like he’s thinking, “The truth is out there.” Rohini stifled a laugh as she heard the theme music from the TV show running through her head.

  “You must be Ms. Smith and Ms. Haakonsen,” the man said. “I’m Bob. I’ll be your concierge during your stay with us. If you need anything pertaining to your accommodations, just let me know.”