Nexus of Time

by Mark Riverstone

  "After forty years tracking an ancient species, capturing and killing their hybrid assassins, the only thing that rattles me is that the Committee wasn't able to stop this invasion."

  "The Committee? Is that another name for the Secret Service?"

  "The Committee is a secret sub-organization of the Secret Service. A group formed by Grant after the civil war. Created with the idea that after slavery among humans was abolished, humans needed to be diligent to prevent the slavery of humans to something other than humans, be it an alien or angelic. The rights of humans to be free and exercise free will extends beyond Earth. My job isn't to protect the US from other governments, my job is to protect humanity from that not human. The things I have seen and dealt with make these roadblocks and refugee camps minor inconveniences.

  "You see people getting desperate, hungry, turning on each other, losing power and resources; all this isn't the result of what has happened. It is the reason it's happening. The Greys want this planet. Believe Earth is their planet. And don't want to destroy the planet, just us. They plan to reclaim the planet by letting us destroy ourselves. We built an unstable world of supply and demand. Humans created an imaginary thing called money that keeps resources from individuals. Greys are aware humans only maintain enough supplies for a limited time. Our beings built a one-way route for consumption, and by disrupting a part of it, they stop all of it. They broke our supply chain and made our money worthless by shutting off the power, and within weeks, humanity is living the same way it did tens of thousands of years ago: scavenging and hunting and killing. We built a world of hierarchy where humans control humans with money and power. Without either, control is lost."

  "But didn't we do what any species does?"

  "No. The Greys are a species whose achievements aren't individual, but communal. They create food to feed, not sell. They create technology to advance, not profit from. Everyone in their society is replaceable, because a leader in their world is not more important that those who follow. While we destroy ourselves over limited resources, their species prospered under the same conditions. I want to stop the Greys, and I want to save humanity, but I cannot deny that humanity's suffering at this very moment is as much from our doing as from what they did to us. And if they succeed, we will have been the easiest species to overthrow in the universe, because the Greys didn't fight a war with us, they just had to prepare the battlefield for us to battle ourselves."

  Dixie gives Mr. Nix a quizzical look, "Are you one of those Men in Black guys?"

  Mr. Nix laughs, breaking the tension, "No, they aren't what you think. Come on, climb back up front here. I'll tell you more truths that will make you realize what is going on is nothing compared to what is ahead of us."

  Dixie climbs in front, "I don't know. Sounds like you want to give me hot sauce to get the taste of pepper out of my mouth, but I'm sure it will pass the time." Dixie looks forward and says, "Let's get moving."

  Mr. Nix smiles and looks her over, amazed at the resiliency of this woman. He thought his final speech might push her over the edge, convincing her everything is hopeless. Instead, she took it in, and is ready to move forward.

  Giving Dixie a single nod, Mr. Nix starts the Humvee back up and continues northward on the dirt road.

  Becoming Strong

  Chapter 41

  Upper Occoquan Sewage Authority, Bull Run Park, Virginia.

  Green halcyon trees spotting rolling lawns contrast the tops of two distant dull silver terraforming Deconstructors towering over the tree line. One works its way south, rolling over residential homes, while the other heads north toward Washington DC. The sound of their massive grinding rollers rumble, a distant continuous thunder.

  Off to the east, a Grey Fabricator ship hovers in the sky, the scanning rays emanating from the bottom of the ship building another Deconstructor on the ground. Surrounding the Deconstructor being built are armed military tanks and artillery cannons, fortified and in position, aiming their long barrels at the Fabricator ship. A dozen helicopters circle the Fabricator ship; some helicopters are the narrow attack style with weapons and missiles mounted to the side, while others are the combat bubble style with open side doors and soldiers manning heavy machine guns mounted on pivoting turrets. The Fabricator ship ignores the military's ground weapons and circling choppers, building the Deconstructor without interruption.

  In a dense residential housing neighborhood on the edge of Bull Run Park, Mr. Nix drives the Humvee though a plan that looks as if it has been through a wind storm and a street war. Yards and roads are littered with trash, papers, clothing and items deemed of no value. Some houses are untouched, while others bear busted out windows and doors, and a few show scars from being torched. Cars park in driveways, along streets, and sit in the middle of roadways. Hoods and trunks of vehicles gape open, many with side windows shattered, while a few are accident crumpled with deployed airbags deflated and drooping.

  Mr. Nix cannot tell which homes are abandoned, have occupants hiding inside, or house the dead. Deceased bodies litter their route: sitting in cars posing a snapshot of fatal impact, laying in yards dried of life, and sidewalk-butchered hacked up by rage or hunger. Mr. Nix slows, attempting to maneuver around a few bodies strewn in the street, but with no unobstructed passage, he carefully drives over them.

  "Next time stop, I'll move the body," offers Dixie with an air of disbelief.

  "No, you won't. We can't afford to play with dead bodies, endangering ourselves to give corpses respect. Don't let your guilt or sense of humanity endanger you in a war zone. Only misfortune will come of it."

  Very little is inhabited, but an occasional glimpse of a person is seen, popping up in a house window, or hidden between homes scavenging trash cans and cars. They drive past one house that has a message written in huge letters on a stained bed sheet stating, "I welcome you in peace! Take me to your planet!"

  The neighborhood doesn't hold Dixie's attention as much as the Fabricator ship to the east building the Deconstructor, and the helicopters circling it.

  "My God, what is that massive ship? What's it doing?" asks Dixie.

  "That ship makes those Deconstructor machines. It's why those machines pop up out of nowhere."

  "But the Army is there. I bet they are ready to attack." Dixie laughs, "They are going to kick alien ass! Ha ha! We're finally fighting back. I knew we'd strike with a vengeance."

  Nix isn't the least bit interested in the military hardware, the Fabricator ship or the Deconstructors. He is deep in thought, concentrating on where he is driving.

  "Where are we going?"

  "Bull Run Park," states Mr. Nix.

  "Why are we going to a park?"

  "We are going to the Upper Occoquan Sewage Facility on the edge of the park."

  "Sewage? I thought you said you needed to get to your headquarters in DC?"

  "That's right. And to get there, we need to go to the sewage facility."

  "Are you a government agent or a sanitation engineer?"

  "Same thing. We both handle the world's shit."

  Dixie goes back to watching the helicopters. She then looks at Nix, noticing he doesn't show interest.

  "I see the military still has plenty of gasoline."

  "I'm sure they stored enough reserves somewhere to last them a year."

  "A year? Why don't the share it with the people?"

  "Because their supply would deplete in a couple days."

  "Why don't you care what's going on over there? Isn't that why you are here? To fight against the alien invaders?" asks Dixie, becoming confused on Mr. Nix's purpose.

  "I am, but not that way."

  "Why not? How do you plan to do it?"

  "There is no plan. I'm here to help my agency figure that out. What the military is doing over there is striking a sledgehammer with a nail."

  "You mean a nail with a sledgehammer," corrects Dixie.

  "No, I meant what I said."

  With the full force of their power, the t
anks and artillery guns fire, the barrage blasting at the Fabricator ship. The munitions fall short of the hull, exploding against the ship's force shield, which becomes translucent and fluctuates at the points of impact before resuming invisibility. Nodes appear underneath the ship, protruding from the hull. Out of nowhere, a plasma arc forming from the tip of a node strikes a tank, incinerating a hole through it. The tank's armor crumbles into cinders where struck, the impact edge glowing orange and dripping molten metal. Another plasm arc hits an artillery gun, incinerating the middle of the barrel and cutting through the base, causing it to collapse in pieces. Arcs flash from the nodes, striking tank after tank, gun after gun, disintegrating each with one blast. The ground force is reduced to charred pieces.

  Countering, the hovering helicopters target the nodes and unleash their missiles in a swarm of explosives. The missiles hit the nodes, but have no effect other than tarnishing the node surface. Arcs from the nodes unleash twelves quick flashes, connecting with each chopper, disintegrating large sections, burning holes through them. Helicopters drop from the sky like hurled stones, mere morsels of a craft attached to a spinning blade, their burned dripping edges showering molten metal raindrops.

  In less than a minute, the military's attack goes silent while puffs of smoke rise where weapons once stood. As the metal cools at the burnt edges, the orange glow dims to black, losing heat as quickly as the military loses hope. The Fabricator ship continues as if never attacked, the nodes withdrawing back into the under hull. The ship continues to build the Deconstructor.

  Dixie is silent, a total loss for words. She looks over at Nix, who does to not even acknowledge what has happened, focused on driving.

  "I...they just...it did nothing. You knew that would happen, didn't you?" asks Dixie in more of a plea than a question.

  "No, I did not know that would happen. But I knew what would not happen."

  "Is there anything that we can do against these things?"

  "Everything has a vulnerability. But we will not defeat them with a predictable attack, using weapons they expect us to use. Why would the Greys put a ship in plain view, open for us to attack, and vulnerable to our attacks?"

  They enter Bull Run Park, the residential war zone giving way to peaceful expanses of green grass and serene trees dangling reddish leaves, tinted by the approaching fall. Nix navigates the Humvee though the calm serene park, heading eastward toward the sewage facility.

  Reaching the sewage plant, Mr. Nix drives to the far edge where a clean water basin reflects the blues of the sky above. Two concrete overflow channels wedge into the ground on the side of the basin, creating a channel from inside the hillside to the water's edge. Nix drives off the road onto the grass, to the flat open channel end at water's edge. After parking, he gets out.

  "Why are we stopping here? It's another twenty miles to DC."

  Mr. Nix looks Dixie in her eyes, "This is where we part ways. I go from here on foot. I agreed to let you take the Humvee and head onward to Maryland. Let me unload what I can carry, and you can go on your way."

  Dixie hesitates, "I can't let you go twenty miles alone on foot. At least, we'll drive together the rest of the way, then I'll go to Maryland."

  "You don't understand. This is the point of no return. If you went any further with me, you could not leave. You could not return to your family. I could not let you."

  "What do you mean, you'd kill me?"

  "Beyond this point are secrets. Secrets only known to those in my organization. Secrets that can never get out. My organization isn't a job. It's not nine to five. It is twenty-four seven for the rest of your life. Once you are in it, you never leave."

  "But you were out there. We made this road trip together. You weren't trapped by an organization."

  "I was on a mission. The reality is I have not seen family and friends for over forty years. My sole purpose is to protect people and our way of life. If I take you another step with me, you make that same commitment. And you can't change your mind, waver in your purpose, or show a moment of weakness. If you try to leave or reveal secrets you will be killed. If you refuse orders, you will be killed. I don't belong to an organization of free will. I belong to an organization of one will."

  "That's a...that's a pretty heavy pitch you gave there."

  "Normally, we involuntarily recruit those who have proven to possess dedication and organizational commitment, respect for authority, and exceptional tactical or scientific skills."

  "So, you are telling me I can't join?"

  "No, but you are the first person ever to be offered a choice to join. You dealt with being held hostage and suffered no post-traumatic disorders. Watched your partner bleed out after he shot himself. Kept your cool while passing through social chaos and mob anarchy. Finished the journey by escorting me to my destination, committed to see me all the way regardless of obstacles, and desire to continue with me further, as if your mission is unfinished. As long as you can keep secrets, you are what the Committee needs. The last step is your choice. Come with me to fight against these Grey creatures and probably die trying, or go protect your brother and nephews, helping your family survive and get through this. Whichever path you choose, your efforts will make a difference. You made a difference to me."

  "Those are two big choices. I need a moment to think."

  "And that moment you do not have. I must go. Either come with me, or get to your family. If you need to think it over, you should leave."

  Mr. Nix buckles on a sidearm holster and tosses a shotgun with a strap over his shoulder. He shoves food and snacks into every available pocket. Putting a police jacket over his body armor, he fills the pockets and pouches with ammo. He then cuts a piece of rope and ties the canteen of water to his belt.

  Without saying a word, Dixie mimics what he is doing, gearing herself up. Nix heads towards the water overflow channel. Dixie follows him. Nix stops and turns to her.

  "You are coming?"

  "I don't know if I can help my brother and his kids when I get there, but I know if I help you stop these things, I help them."

  "Very well. First thing. You will no longer go by or respond to the name Officer Dixie Brown. You will only respond to one name, and one prefix. That will be...Strong. You are Agent Strong. Anyone you meet from here on out, you will tell them you are Agent Strong. You will not mention your past, family or associations. Your new past starts now. Do you understand, Agent Strong?"

  "Yes. Does everyone get a new name?"

  "Everyone has an agency name. You are now an agent of the Committee. The Committee is a secret sub-organization of the Secret Service, CIA, and US Military. Only the most elite and with the highest levels of confidentiality within those three organizations will be aware the Committee exists. To their general ranks and population, you will tell them you are with the Secret Service under the command of Director Nix. That is me. Mr. Nix, Director Nix or Commander Nix. I prefer you refer to me as Mr. Nix."

  "Not Agent Xanthos?"

  "That is an identity I use when I identify myself within the public. Nicholas Xanthos does not exist, it was derived from breaking the name Nix in half, Ni and X. You will call me Mr. Nix, you understand?"

  "Yes."

  "Yes what?"

  "Yes, Mr. Nix."

  "Good, let's get going."

  Agent Strong follows Mr. Nix to the water edge by a flat wide plateau of concrete. They then walk up the dry concrete overflow channel, within the sidewalls which grow ever higher, until they reach the back wall with water overflow sluices on the top edge. On the side, the size of a credit card, is a sealed opaque glass panel. After pressing the panel, the glass slides open revealing what resembles a coin slot. When he touches the side of his wrist communicator, a quarter-sized disc with circuit relays on its surface ejects. Nix slides the disc into the slot. After a moment, the disc ejects, and the massive concrete wall below the sluices slides open.

  As it opens, Agent Strong can see a huge tunnel going off into darkness un
derground. The tunnel is high and wide enough for two eighteen-wheelers to ride side by side. Her mouth gapes at a loss of words. Nix walks into the tunnel and turns to her.

  "Come on, let's go," crossing the entrance into the tunnel.

  "That is huge!" gazes Agent Strong looking in from the outside.

  "Goes to DC and beyond. It's a secret tunnel network for the safety and security of our capital. This is part of a network of secret government tunnels used to get into and out of DC unseen, in case of attack or if officials need to escape. All the major government buildings access these tunnels: White House, Supreme Court, Library of Congress, Senate, Judicial offices, FBI, CIA, NSA, Pentagon and Secret Service. Though only the highest levels of security in each know it exists. Only the House of Representatives is not connected. It was determined long ago there are too many blabbermouths elected into there.

  "Each department has its own entrance to the tunnels from their building, and exit. That way, if anyone malicious ever got into these tunnels, they wouldn't know where any exit leads. I only know how to access the CIA, Secret Service and Committee subterranean headquarters. The tunnel network is designed so cars full of officials can escape the city, and the Pentagon can route military vehicles and tanks right into city center without being seen."

  "Vehicles, huh, then why are we hiking? Why don't we take the Humvee and ride in? Instead of two days hiking, we will be there in an hour."

  "This tunnel has many safety protocols to prevent infiltration and misuse. One is massive reinforced concrete barricades, placed every couple of miles the whole way, and a hundred meters from surface exits. The barriers lower when the correct access codes are input at those points. And those access codes change every month. That way, if someone is removed from their position, or a code leaks out, that code won't work over time. I haven't been at the DC headquarters in a year and don't have a new code. Which means we drive a hundred meters before abandoning the Humvee at the first barrier in the tunnel."

  "A hundred meters is better than nothing."