Not Alone

by Falconer, Craig A.

  “Look,” Godfrey said impatiently. “None of that matters. You all know that Diane and I never saw eye to eye, so it’s hardly a great surprise. John’s work in stabilising the coalition merits his promotion, and that’s all there is to it. Now, if we can get on to the things that do matter?”

  The reporters all took note of Godfrey’s words, with the few who had yelled out looking now like scolded children.

  “President Slater issued a statement yesterday in response to my comments on Sunday, and this is my reply. You might notice that it’s coming from my mouth and being delivered in front of your cameras, not coming through Jack Neal’s spin machine and being delivered through a press secretary.”

  The Prime Minister grinned smugly for a few seconds.

  “But as for what she slash Jack said… aside from the unnecessary and intrusive suggestions on how I should run my government, the crux of their statement was the suggestion that we should be putting on a united front to focus on “real international challenges” rather than squabbling over personal differences. As if that’s not what I’ve been trying to do! What could be more real than a cover-up of information that could change everything we think we know about our place in the universe? And how can she talk about united fronts when we and the rest of the international community are being completely excluded from the discussion?”

  Godfrey turned over his single sheet of notes. “With that said,” he continued, “I stand before you today to lay the first brick in what I hope will become a road of global cooperation. I am pleased to announce the immediate declassification and publication of our so-called “X-Files”, which some of you will know were already due for release in a little over two months time. The files in question date from the early 1950s and cover everything from UFO sightings by military personnel to details of abandoned plans for a British agency not too dissimilar to the IDA.”

  This kind of unilateral government declassification was what Billy Kendrick’s Five Scenarios book termed “small-d disclosure”. Rather than an admission of lies or a revelation of an unequivocal alien truth, the mass of declassified materials being published only disclosed what the British government and intelligence agencies had on file. As Billy had always predicted, this was far from the whole story.

  But Billy had also predicted that one major government publishing its alien-related files would put pressure on others, and few of the reporters had any doubt that this was Godfrey’s prime motive in facilitating the early release. While Billy saw small-d disclosure primarily as a stepping stone, he recognised that the impact of such an event depended entirely on how shocking the files in question turned out to be.

  “The entire collection of files is now available,” Godfrey announced triumphantly, “completely unedited and as redaction-free as legally possible. I haven’t had time to look through everything, but from what I’ve seen I can confidently say that there’s plenty to keep everyone busy.”

  Godfrey folded his notes into his breast pocket in his usual signal that he was almost finished.

  “In taking this action, I don’t mean to back President Slater into a corner,” he said with a poorly disguised smirk. “I do, however, want to be perfectly clear about one thing: this is everything that we have to disclose.”

  D minus 56

  TVT Studio

  Colorado Springs, Colorado

  Dan spent several hours poring through the British files, which were almost entirely composed of UFO sightings.

  Some already high-profile cases were given new context and corroboration via eyewitness testimony from RAF pilots, police officers, and US Air Force personnel, among others.

  There were also images of unexplained lights in the sky and descriptions of abduction events that were completely new to Dan, who thought he had seen and read every case out there. But having recently found details in the Kerguelen folder of a detailed plan to put forward genuine-looking images to be later debunked, Dan was more wary than ever of taking any of the photographs at face value.

  The contents of the files were far from underwhelming — and would ordinarily have been a huge news story in their own right — but Dan couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t a little disappointed that there was nothing concrete and definitive. Still, he thought, at least it upped the pressure on Slater and might further erode people’s remaining doubts.

  It took Dan around five hours to go through the files in their entirety, during which time Emma left to meet with Marco Magnifico’s people at the studio. She also returned to her hotel, where XPR had arranged to send a package containing new clothes and everything else she needed now that her unplanned stay in Colorado had reached its fifth day.

  Rather than return to Dan’s house to travel with him to the studio, where a crowd would be gathered, Emma waited there for him. She called Dan when it was almost time for him to leave, telling him not to worry about getting ready beyond putting on the clothes she had picked out. He dutifully put them on — apart from the tie, which he placed in his pocket — and drove to the studio. Emma made it clear that Mr Byrd should hang back until the studio opened its doors to the ticket-holding public.

  On the short drive into the city, Dan spotted Mr Byrd and Phil Norris talking to Trey near the edge of the old drive-in. There was now a large white sheet with the word “MEDIA” written on it in impressively neat strips of thick black tape, suspended with wire between two rusted pillars where the drive-in’s gate used to be.

  There were at least ten news vans and satellite trucks in the lot, most of which Dan didn’t recognise. He honked his horn as he slowly drove past. The three men waved, but none of the newly arrived crews recognised the vehicle as his.

  Dan saw another huge truck pull into the drive-in lot in his rearview mirror. If things continued the way they were going, Dan imagined that the term “media outpost”, which he had never really accepted, would soon give way to “media village”.

  Dan spent the rest of the drive thinking about Marco Magnifico and wondering what he was getting himself into. Marco was the most famous stage hypnotist around; really the only famous stage hypnotist. He found fame three years ago at the age of 36 when he appeared on a TV talent show. He didn’t win, despite impressing the judges enough to reach the final eight, but he still managed to secure a TV deal and had gone on to achieve far greater success than the talent show’s winner.

  Soon after its debut, Marco’s show developed a reputation as the place where desperate celebrities did degrading things to try to hold on to whatever fame they had left. As the ratings got bigger, so did the guests. Real celebrities with movies and albums to promote began appearing on Marco’s show to undertake carefully stage-managed tasks that were amusing enough to satisfy the audience without being too embarrassing for the guests.

  Kaitlyn Judd’s appearance was a perfect example, allowing her to promote Lair of Fangs by performing mildly embarrassing tasks that showcased her sense of humour without making her seem like a shameless publicity hound. Emma had promised Dan that she wouldn’t let Marco do anything with him that an A-lister like Kaitlyn would say no to.

  Marco’s show was set to return for its next regular season in two weeks, so the timing was perfect for him to raise awareness. Emma called it a win-win, since it was also perfect timing for Dan to reach a new audience and show that he was willing to stand behind his truth. She also told Dan that tens of millions of viewers would be watching since the show was taking place on a night without football or anything else that people usually watched live on TV.

  Right before Emma had left for the studio, Dan pushed for details on why her firm was able to influence Marco and his producers. She explained that it was similar to the limited but effective power they held over Marian de Clerk and her Focus 20/20 team. It wasn’t based on anything like dirt or blackmail, Emma said, just that Emma’s firm represented a lot of people the show might want as guests in the future. XPR also had links with other big firms, so hosts and producers were careful to avoid doing so
mething that would upset the firm enough to earn themselves a spot on a blacklist.

  “How much does your firm really care about me, though?” Dan asked. “I don’t know if I trust them to look out for me if it would cost them money.”

  “Yeah, but you trust me,” Emma said. It wasn’t a question.

  These thoughts and memories quietened in Dan’s mind when he neared the studio, which turned out to be uncannily close to the library on Baker Street where he first published the leak. He parked his car where Emma had told him to, walked past a few supportive ticket-holders who were already queuing to get in, and entered the building through the front door.

  A burly security guard, as tall as Dan and almost as broad as Clark, greeted him inside. “This way, sir,” the man said, leading Dan down a hallway. He then left Dan outside a door marked “MAKEUP”.

  Dan sighed. He had made it 21 years without the need for makeup, but in the last four days his face had hardly had a break from the stuff. He opened the door and saw Emma waiting for him, dressed more glamorously than normal in a formfitting dress that looked like it didn’t allow for much movement at the knee. The design featured a narrow blue hourglass contoured strikingly against a black body, accentuating Emma’s natural curves.

  “You look like someone famous who’s about to open a hospital,” Dan said. “Or go to a ball. Or host a charity din—”

  “Okay, okay,” Emma said. “I get it. This is what my assistant sent. When I said “send some clothes for tomorrow night,” I meant send some of my clothes. She didn’t seem to get that part.”

  “You have an assistant?”

  “This is what one of my assistants sent,” Emma corrected herself with a slight grin. “And trust me, she’s going to hear about it.”

  Dan shrugged. “I was just joking around. It’s not that bad.”

  “High praise,” Emma said. “Anyway, get in the chair. We’ve only got an hour.”

  “Until what?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “An hour until what?” Dan asked. “The show is at nine, right?”

  “Dan, the show’s at seven.”

  “What? All the ads I saw today said nine.”

  “Nine Eastern, maybe,” Emma said. “Seven here. I thought I told you when I told your neighbour?”

  “You just told me to be here by six!”

  “And here you are. It’s not like we have anything to talk over, is it? You know what’s happening.”

  While the least talkative makeup artist yet made Dan’s face glow, Emma filled him in on her meeting with Marco’s people. All that was left to do before the show was sign a waiver. As soon as he was allowed out of the makeup chair, Dan read through all three pages and found nothing too alarming.

  Emma led him down a quiet corridor. “We just have to hand this over and answer a few questions,” she said, stopping at an unmarked office door.

  “What kind of questions?”

  Before Emma could answer, a woman with thick reddish-brown hair opened the door and invited them inside. There was only one seat at their side of the desk, and Dan and Emma each insisted that the other take it. As stubborn as each other, they both stood.

  “Okay, Mr McCarthy,” the woman said in a fairly posh English accent. She wore glasses and gave Dan the impression that she was much older than she looked. “Just a few questions.”

  “Who is this?” Dan asked Emma, as though the woman wasn’t there.

  The woman answered. “I’m Mr Magnifico’s management.”

  Dan didn’t know what was odder: that the woman didn’t say her name, that she said management rather than manager, or that she called Marco “Mr Magnifico” when Magnifico was so obviously half of a stage name rather than a surname in its own right. “Oh,” was all he said in reply.

  “As I was saying,” she said briskly. “A few questions. First of all, are you currently taking any medication, particularly anything that may interact with barbiturates?”

  Emma butted in: “Don’t answer that.”

  “Why?” Dan asked.

  Emma ignored him and sat down, directly in front of Mr Magnifico’s management. “Why are you asking about barbiturate interactions?” she probed. “We went over this when I told you we’re not doing the serum. I couldn’t have been clearer.”

  “Hmm. Indeed. These questions must have been prepared before you made that known.”

  “I’ll do it if I have to,” Dan said to no one in particular.

  “You don’t,” Emma said immediately.

  The woman looked irritated. “Perhaps you should let Mr McCarthy speak for himself, Ms Ford?”

  “Next question,” Emma said.

  The woman looked at Dan. “Fine. Just a quick yes or no to whether you have you ever suffered from or experienced the following, Mr McCarthy. Epilepsy?”

  “No,” Dan replied

  “Psychosis?”

  “Why would you ask that?” he said.

  “It’s yes or no,” the woman groaned, somehow managing to make such a simple statement sound condescending.

  “Then no.”

  “Very good. Depression?”

  Dan hesitated.

  “No,” Emma answered for him.

  “I was asking Mr—”

  “It’s not relevant,” Emma insisted. She tipped her head back to Dan, who was standing awkwardly behind her. “Just say no.”

  “No,” Dan parroted.

  The woman made a note, longer than two letters. “And have you ever been hypnotised before?”

  “No.”

  “Has sleepwalking ever been an issue in your life?”

  When Dan didn’t answer straight away, Emma looked back at him again. “Say no.”

  “Why would that matter?” Dan asked the woman.

  “Say no,” Emma repeated. As before, she made no effort to disguise her instruction.

  “It’s just a question we like to ask,” the woman said. “Shall I put yes?”

  With Emma staring up at him, Dan shook his head. “No,” he said.

  The woman handed Dan the sheet of paper with the boxes ticked in accordance with his answers and asked him to sign on the line. He did so then handed the paper back.

  “Good luck, Mr McCarthy,” the woman said in a tone Dan couldn’t work out. “Ms Ford.”

  Emma closed the door loudly behind them.

  “What was that all about?” Dan asked.

  “I met her earlier. And if you think that was bad. Anyway… sleepwalking, huh?”

  “Not since I was a kid,” Dan said. “Well, maybe 16, 17? My dad had to get double locks on the front and back doors because I went outside one time and he was worried I’d do it again.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “I didn’t get far. Not even to the drive-in. One of the neighbours saw me. I didn’t have any shoes or anything but the weird thing was, they said I was careful when I crossed the street and they swore my eyes were open.”

  Emma paused for a moment. “Were you definitely asleep?”

  “I definitely wasn’t awake,” Dan shrugged.

  Emma’s phone buzzed. “That’s time,” she said.

  “Do I not get to meet Marco before we go live?”

  “He never meets his guests. Apparently it can complicate things. But listen: you’ve got this. Just say the things you said on Focus 20/20 and at the Kendrick gig. Stick to your truth and we’ll be out of here before you know it.”

  “Will you be in Marco’s ear?” Dan asked. “In case he starts asking anything too personal? I don’t want questions about my family. Nothing about my dad and especially nothing about… you know, just nothing about my family.”

  “I won’t be directly in his ear, but I’ll be standing right next to the people who are. I’ve already told them what he can’t ask so there shouldn’t be any problems. If there are, I’ll be there to solve them.”

  A man in a lanyard emerged at the end of the corridor and asked Dan to go with him.

  “I’m
this way,” Emma said, pointing in another direction.

  Dan didn’t say anything as he obediently followed the man. The narrow corridor looked quite like the ones in the big studio where they’d filmed Dan’s Focus 20/20 segment, but he knew that something altogether different was waiting for him this time.

  This time there was no quiet room to himself; this time there was no security of being able to edit out any slip-ups; this time there was no Emma to hold his hand and guide his way when the going got tough.

  Dan stopped walking when his escort reached a door on the right. He looked back along the long corridor, where Emma still stood at the other end, watching him go. He waved. She waved back. The man opened the door.

  “Dan McCarthy,” Emma shouted as he was about to step through.

  He turned towards her again. “Yeah?”

  “Game face.”

  D minus 55

  10 Downing Street

  London, England

  In the early hours of the British morning, William Godfrey sat patiently at his desk as the final few seconds ticked away before the beginning of the live hypnotism the whole world was talking about.

  Godfrey had played his hand earlier in the day, going all-in by declassifying Britain’s UFO files ahead of schedule.

  After one last ad for Lexington Cola, Marco Magnifico’s logo filled the computer screen. Godfrey shifted in his seat and adjusted his headphones.

  Now, finally, it was time to see what Dan McCarthy was really holding.

  D minus 54

  TVT Studio

  Colorado Springs, Colorado

  Dan emerged from the corridor to find Marco Magnifico’s audience already in their bleacher-like seats, including Mr Byrd at the very end of the front row in a seat that looked tacked on. He felt tangible relief at how small the studio was.

  Dan didn’t know what else was filmed there, but the entire room was no larger than half of a school gymnasium. Were it not for the lighting rigs set up high behind the audience, he wouldn’t have thought it was a studio at all. The more he looked around, the more it really did seem like a gymnasium. And even though the show would be going out live to untold millions of TV viewers, the low capacity of the room eased his mind.