As Cole walked to the door, Godfrey called Jack over with his hand.
“Yeah?” Jack asked when he reached him.
Godfrey leaned in to whisper: “Make sure they understand that nothing he says gets recorded or reported, okay?”
“Why?”
“Because John Cole is the last thing the world needs right now.”
Cole stood at the door, grinning his absent grin, eager to give his never-to-air interview in the next room.
“Anything else?” Jack asked.
“Leave your phone,” Slater requested.
“My phone? Why?”
“Because,” she said, holding her palm open to receive it. “Neither of us have Emma Ford’s number.”
D plus 35
McCarthy Residence
Birchwood, Colorado
Dan stayed by the back door. While half listening to Ben’s painful explanations, he looked up at the sea of unoccupied constellations mocking him from afar.
“There had to be an easier way,” Emma said. “There had to be something easier than all this meta-conspiracy bullshit.”
Ben shrugged. “Name one. Like I said, the spark for the whole plan was Kloster’s line: “The safest way to sell a lie is to dress it up as a secret.” Kloster ended up having other ideas, but Richard was in charge by then. He said 9/11 reinforced just how much things can change overnight and that it made Kloster want to do something more spectacular; it made him long for the kind of instant chaos you only get from burning buildings and a visible enemy. But it’s impossible to fake an invasion for any length of time. Hell, you couldn’t even spoof an alien signal for long without being found out. It had to be a fake cover-up that led to carefully controlled physical evidence.”
“The sphere?”
Ben nodded. “But even if there had been options, Richard said he always had faith in the leak sequence. He got more and more confident over time when he saw such a huge public appetite for mundane leaks about diplomatic relations and internet spying. Because when those things were getting people so excited, it wasn’t difficult to imagine what an alien cover-up would do. When he told me what he wanted to do, I said people wouldn’t buy it. He just looked at me and said: “Ben, all we have to do is engage the public’s well-earned distrust in their government.” He kept going on and on about how we alone could save the world… about how this was the hand we’d been dealt and how Kloster was our ace in the pack.”
Clark mumbled something under his breath. Ben heard the words “fucking Nazi” and little else.
“Exactly,” Ben said. “Kloster had that built-in back story. He genuinely was recruited by the inner party in 1938, he genuinely did work on rocketry in Germany during the war then here afterwards, and he genuinely did have friends who fled to Argentina. It’s not like Kloster’s life just happens to fit the story; the story was built around him.”
“So what about that guy Mattheus Scholl?” Clark asked.
“The inner party recruited him for something else. Again, Hans used him in the story because there was a real story there. He just twisted it.”
Emma, growing impatient of the way Ben kept repeating certain things and leaving others out, latched on to the biggest piece of the puzzle that still didn’t fit. “But what about the sphere? How did they get it in the ocean? And when?”
“They dumped it when Kloster was still alive. I don’t know exactly when. I did ask, but Richard told me not to worry about any of that. He said they had it made in the ’80s and that Kloster kept it at his place in Argentina until they dumped it. Kloster got the idea from seeing other supposedly alien spheres in the news. He wanted to leave his confessional letter in the sphere along with the plaques, but Richard didn’t want to commit to one version of the letter until he had to. The messages on the plaques are basic compared to everything in the letter, but Richard wanted to be able to choose which version of Kloster’s confession to leak depending on the political mood at the time.”
“Wait,” Emma said, still focused on the early part of Ben’s reply. “You said they had the sphere made?”
Ben nodded.
“So someone else made it?”
“To Kloster’s exact specifications.”
“That means someone else knows,” Emma said. She looked to Dan, anticipating a reaction. Sure enough, he turned round.
“How many people?” he demanded, sitting back down and staring at Ben.
“None,” Ben said. “There were only two or three of them — other Germans living in Argentina — and Richard said they’re long dead. He doesn’t leave loose ends.”
“So why are you here?” Clark snapped, pounding the table with his fist. “If Walker doesn’t leave loose ends, where the fuck is he and why are you worried that someone might have found you both out?”
Ben didn’t have an answer to that.
“Why would they sink the sphere so long ago?” Dan asked. He was still reeling from the gut-punch of finding out that the truth he had fought so hard to spread was in fact a lie, but his thoughts had now cleared enough to focus on the specific elements that still didn’t make sense.
Ben sighed, almost as impatient as the others given that he had already asked Richard all of these questions some five months earlier. “Kloster had the boat and the place in Argentina,” he said. “And they had to do it while he was healthy. They knew there was a risk it would be found too early, but so what if it had been? There was nothing identifying in there. No one would have believed it was extraterrestrial without the context of Kloster’s confession and the other documents.”
“But how could it fool the scientists?” Dan said.
“Context,” Ben said, repeating the word with added stress. “The world had already decided it was real. Do you remember the wording of the statement the scientists made? The context of your leak was the only reason they thought their findings were “consistent with the notion that the sphere is extraterrestrial in origin.” Because it’s not extraterrestrial in origin, it’s just unusually pure magnesium. It wasn’t cheap, but I don’t think it was too difficult. That was the key thing: Richard and Kloster left the fanciful stuff to the artefacts they didn’t have to hoax. That’s why Kloster’s confession says the alien craft was made of a ridiculously light alien alloy but that the spheres were just “impossibly pure magnesium.” They couldn’t afford to over-promise.”
Emma and Dan glanced at each other. Without words, each knew that the other saw the logic in what Ben was saying.
“It was the same with the spheres being perfectly and flawlessly sealed before they were first opened,” Ben said, “but then there was a hairline along the hemisphere. They couldn’t make a flawless sphere with plaques inside it, so they built the flaws into the story. The magnetism, too. They couldn’t actually make the sphere float out of the water like it was supposed to have when the Nazis first found it, so Kloster’s letter said it was the rings that attracted the spheres. You know, the conveniently lost rings. When Richard told me all of this he said they’d put all the right details in all the wrong places. He said it was a fine line to walk because they wanted the overall story to seem totally unbelievable at first but get more credible the more you looked into it. Basically the opposite of most alien stories.”
“Why the hell would Walker want it to be unbelievable?” Emma asked.
“Partly so people could laugh it off at first,” Ben said. “But there was another reason. He wanted the story to be so serpentine that no one would ever think someone would make it up. That’s why Kloster and the Nazi angle worked so well. Obviously it was convenient that Kloster could actually write a fake confession and leave his fingerprints all over it, but Richard knew it was deeper than that. He knew what people would think: if you’re going to make up a lie about aliens, which sets off enough alarm bells on its own, why would you throw in Nazis? It was almost like an inverse of the laughter curtain… so crazy, it had to be true. Scattering the spheres all over the world makes no kind of sense, and th
at was the whole point.”
Dan thought back to the early days of the leak when, in an effort to convince Emma that he was telling the truth, he had asked her a similar rhetorical question about why he would intertwine a story about aliens with a Nazi treasure hunt.
In that moment, Dan felt more than used. He felt worse than used. Fooled, tricked, conned… no words came close.
“The same thing went for the plaques,” Ben said. “They wanted the plaques to be ambiguous. Richard always said the only thing that mattered was that the story stayed consistent with itself. Small details had to be right, like the two named U-boats that really did surrender in Argentina and the cartographer who really was killed. But when it came to the bigger picture, the more out-there it was, the better. He framed it as embellished history over alternative history, since they built the lies around real events.”
“Why, though?” Dan asked. “Why would Walker want the plaques to be ambiguous? What if there’d been a consensus that the aliens were peaceful? That wouldn’t have stopped China.”
“It would,” Ben disagreed, “but there was a contingency plan. Kloster’s confession mentions two more plaques which he never got to see. Richard and Kloster kept two blank plaques, manufactured at the same time to the same specifications as the two they dumped in the sphere. The blank plaques were their emergency fallback in case the world reacted the wrong way. Even after Kloster and the manufacturers were dead, Richard had the equipment to neatly engrave the plaques with whatever new message he needed people to believe. Then it would have just been a case of him doing something to provoke a police search and they would have found the plaques.”
“You’re a bunch of sick fucks,” Clark muttered. He didn’t know what else to say. Sitting at the same table where Dan first showed he and Emma the Kloster letter, Clark was even more speechless than he had been then. Needless to say, this was an altogether more uncomfortable kind of speechlessness.
Emma tried to maintain an emotional distance and stay focused on what she could control. “Where are those plaques?” she asked. “At Richard’s? Because if someone finds them…”
“I have them,” Ben said. “Richard expected his place to be raided, so I have everything.”
“You have to destroy it,” Emma said. “Tonight.”
Ben gulped and nodded slowly.
“What are you talking about?” Dan asked them both. “We have to show everyone! If Walker hasn’t already been caught out, we need the proof.”
No one replied. After a few seconds, Emma looked into Dan’s eyes and put her hand on top of his. “Dan…” she began. Her expression said the rest.
Dan immediately pushed his chair away from the table, scraping its metal feet against the tiles, and rose to his feet. He stared wordlessly at Emma then moved his eyes to Clark, hoping to find support. He didn’t. “No. You can’t… you can’t seriously want me to keep this quiet? You can’t expect me to keep this quiet?”
Ben knew better than to answer on their behalf.
“If anyone found out…” Emma said. “Think about what that would do to the world.”
Dan’s hands were on the back of his head. “No. People deserve to know. They have a right to know.” He paced back and forth past the table. “I can’t believe you’re asking me to do this.”
“It’s not just about you,” Emma replied. “The world is a powder-keg as it is. People are rioting now, so think what this would do.”
“They’re rioting because they’re scared of a threat that’s not even real!”
“A threat which has united the world like never before,” Ben said, daring to butt in.
“It’s a fucking lie!” Dan screamed at him.
Ben rose from his seat and squared up to Dan. He spoke very slowly, one chunk of the sentence at a time: “The ends. Justify. The means.”
“Fuck the ends,” Dan spat back at him.
“We’ll get the blame,” Emma said, talking to Dan as softly as she could. “You’ll get the blame.”
“Why? We’re not the only ones who bought the lie.”
“Bought it?” Emma echoed, almost caustically. “Dan, we’re the ones who sold it!”
“Yeah, but—”
“There is no but,” she interrupted, speaking in the kind of forceful tone Dan had heard her use on so many others but had never himself been on the wrong end of. “If you buy a vat of poisoned milk, and you sell that milk to a bunch of schoolkids, and those schoolkids die… that’s your fault. No one gives a shit about the guy who sold you the milk. I know how you feel about the truth, Dan, but this truth isn’t even an option.”
Dan turned away from Emma, more disappointed in her than he had ever been in anyone. He looked at Ben for several seconds, then Clark. “Say something,” he begged.
Clark sighed. It hurt him to look at Dan — to see the pain etched on his face — but he managed to hold his gaze for a few seconds. “I’m sorry,” he said, the first time in his life Dan had ever heard him utter those words. “But this is bigger than us.”
“Coward,” Dan said.
Clark took it on the chin.
“We’re all on the same side,” Emma said, trying to cool things down.
Dan glared at her. “No we’re not. I don’t side with liars.”
“Enough,” Clark said firmly.
“I can’t live with this,” Dan told him.
“We’ll work it out.”
“What is there to work out? If you want me to shut up, you’re going to have to make me. Because I can promise you this: the truth isn’t dying without me.”
“Shhh,” Ben said.
“Don’t shush me,” Dan snapped.
Ben raised his hand. “Listen. Is that someone’s phone?”
Emma heard the buzzing sound and hurried through to the living room, where she found her phone vibrating its way across the coffee table. She lifted it up with no idea what name to expect on the screen.
“Who is it?” Dan asked, walking with Clark towards the couch. Ben followed close behind.
Emma looked at the screen and took a long, deep breath. “It’s Jack.”
* * *
“Jack Neal?” Ben asked, aiming the question at no one in particular. “Isn’t he in China with President Slater. Oh, shit.”
Emma looked only at Clark. “Should I take the call?”
Clark nodded.
“Hello?” Emma said, immediately pressing the loudspeaker button.
“Ms Ford.”
Everyone stood silently for several seconds, stunned by the words. Because rather than Jack Neal, the voice on the other end of the line belonged to William Godfrey.
Emma looked at Dan and held an urgent, desperate finger to her lips.
“Tell him,” Dan said loudly. “Tell him everyth—”
Clark tackled Dan onto the couch, covering his mouth in the same motion. Dan flailed and fought to free himself, biting a small fold of skin on Clark’s palm. Clark pushed the weight of his other arm against the underside of Dan’s chin, no harder than he had to.
“Outside,” he mouthed to Emma.
She followed the order.
As soon as Clark heard the door close behind her, he uncovered Dan’s mouth and let him go.
“What the hell?” Dan protested.
“I’m just trying to protect you. I wasn’t here to protect you from this prick when everything started, but I’m here to protect you from yourself now.”
“I don’t need you to protect me,” Dan yelled. “You’re not Dad, okay? You might like to think you are, but you’re not.”
Clark sat up, lifted his phone from his pocket, and handed it to Dan. “You want to talk about Dad? Fine. Ask him what to do. Call him, tell him that the whole alien thing you convinced everyone was true was actually a lie, and ask him if he thinks you should tell William Godfrey all about it.”
Dan was silent.
“Unless you already know what he’ll say?”
“You’re an asshole,” Dan said, r
efusing to even look Clark in the eye. He stood up.
Clark watched Dan walk away, ready to jump up if he made a move for the back door to interfere with Emma’s call. Dan didn’t change course. Slowly, with his head hanging low, he walked into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him.
Clark turned to face Ben, who was still standing gingerly against the wall.
“I’m more sorry than I could ever say,” Ben said.
“You’re going to take me to Walker’s place,” Clark replied. “And then you’re going to go away and never come back. Is that clear?”
While Ben was nodding meekly, Clark heard Emma opening the back door to come back inside.
“What did Godfrey say?” Clark called over.
“Nothing. The call is recorded if you want to listen back, but all he said was that it’s important Dan doesn’t say anything in public that conveys fear. He was like: “That’s very important. I can’t stress enough how important that is.” And he said he’s about to appeal for calm and that no one is going to blame China, even though he thinks it was a technical failure on their end. He wants to keep that quiet for the sake of stability. Just like we’re… you know.”
Clark nodded.
“He’s with Slater right now,” Emma said, “and neither of them know what we know.” Her expression changed when she reached the front of the couch. “Wait, where’s Dan?”
Clark pointed to Dan’s bedroom.
“What if he hurts himself?”
“He won’t.” Silence circled for a few seconds until Clark broke it by clapping his hands together. “We’re all going to Walker’s place, anyway.”
“Why?” Emma asked.
“This scumbag has to show me where it is, and I can’t leave you with Dan. Not when he’s like this. He might try to go to the drive-in.”
“But why are you going at all?”
“The doors were all locked and Walker’s car was still there two hours ago,” Clark said. “I reckon he’s still there. He could be lying there dead, which would mean no one else knows anything.”
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