Phil Norris unlocked the stair-gate leading to the scaffold stage, which Dan McCarthy and Emma Ford proceeded to ascend one final time. Through sheer force of habit, and despite the relaxed atmosphere, Clark guarded the bottom of the stairs with his arms folded and his eyes on the crowd.
“We’ve had some requests for a comment,” Emma said, “so Dan is going to give one now, while you’re all here. But before he does, there are a few things I want to say first.”
Emma hadn’t shown or told Dan exactly what she was going to say, but he knew it was intended to segue into his own comments and make everything as easy as possible for him. He listened carefully.
“It’s been a long road. A lot of you have been right there with us from the start, through the ups and the downs and the twists and the turns. We thank you for that. XPR sent me here five months ago to make the most out of Dan’s story before it unravelled, but that’s not what happened.”
Clark turned briefly to view the screen, spotting Trey’s Blue Dish Network logo in the corner.
“And I’ll tell you why that didn’t happen,” Emma continued. “Dan’s story didn’t unravel because it wasn’t a story: it was the truth. Everything Dan ever said was the truth. He didn’t choose to find the Kerguelen folder, but he chose to leak it. And that choice — that action — is ultimately what led us here. We all know that a plaque was just discovered in Austria containing a message of peace from an intelligent alien race. Without Dan’s decision to leak the folder and without the context it provided, that plaque would mean nothing.”
Emma tapped her foot twice, signalling that she was almost finished.
“In five months, the road to this moment has taken us through more secrets and more lies than I’ve seen in an almost a decade of PR work. But as far as the IDA leak goes, there’s only one truth that counts: the reason we know that aliens exist, and the reason we know they are peaceful, is standing right beside me. The reason is Dan McCarthy.”
Through everything that had happened since the day he found the folder, Dan had never cried in public. The rapturous cheers and applause that followed Emma’s words pushed his resolve to new limits and ultimately got the better of him.
“I don’t know what to say,” he said, clearing his eyes as furtively as the big screen close-up of his face allowed.
This show of emotion drew another loud response from the crowd. Dan saw Mr Byrd and Phil Norris beside Trey and the ACN crew, all of them cheering and clapping along with everyone else.
“I just want to say thanks to Martina Brunner for doing the right thing by handing the plaque in right away and I want to thank the Austrian authorities for doing the right thing by making it public. I know a lot of people have said that I should have gone to the police in the first place, too, but I did what I did and I wouldn’t change it; things might have turned out differently if I hadn’t gone to the library that day and put the files online, so I don’t regret it.”
Amid lighter applause, one man shouted “Woooo!” loudly enough to provoke laughter from the rest of the crowd.
“This guy gets it,” Dan said, smiling and drawing further laughter. “But seriously: I hope Martina can go back to her normal life, and I hope I can get somewhere close to mine. I hope the last few months have shown us that we don’t need to spend billions of dollars every day on war and I hope the GSC can adapt to make the best of the cooperation it started. It took what we thought was a threat to bring the world together, and it would be a damn shame to throw away the progress we’ve made just because that threat is no more.”
This was Dan’s final written line, so Emma took over. “That’s the end of Dan’s comment,” she said, “and that’s the last comment he plans to give. Thank you all for coming out. We appreciate the support from everyone who’s been with us since the beginning.”
“I want to thank some people, too,” Dan blurted out. Emma’s expression told him to go for it. “First of all, Maria and Trey were both great with respecting my privacy on the first night and they both helped with other stuff later on. Plus Kyle, who was there with Trey to document the raid when I was in Italy; that was pretty ballsy.”
Kyle Young smiled and raised his hand to welcome the recognition.
“Then there’s Phil Norris who has bent over backwards to help us with everything here, and Mr Byrd for everything he’s ever done. Timo and Billy, too. I could never thank Timo enough for everything he did for us in Italy, and Billy was the first guy to stick up for me. We might have disagreed on a few things along the way, but we were always on the same side of history.”
The crowd applauded the mention of Billy, who many respected for the way he had carried himself even when the public mood turned against him.
“And I better not leave out this big idiot,” Dan said, leaning over the stage and pointing to Clark as the camera followed. “He knows how much he’s helped but he never looks for thanks; he just does the right thing, every time. And finally, last but not least: Emma Ford. I’ve only had to deal with the things Emma told me about, and I wouldn’t even know where to begin telling you how much she’s done for not just me but all of us. She can stand there and tell you that I’m the reason the world knows the truth, but I could say the same about her. She kept me afloat when the water was rough, and I wouldn’t be with you all right now if she hadn’t been there for me.”
The crowd applauded, but less enthusiastically than before given the sober nature of Dan’s acknowledgement.
Emma leaned towards his ear and whispered a suggested sign-off to end on a high note.
“From truth comes hope,” Dan said, relaying Emma’s words. “So here’s to the truth.”
Cheers and applause resonated throughout the lot as Emma and Dan made their way down the stairs towards Clark.
“It’s over,” Emma whispered to Dan. “You did it.”
As Dan looked out at the sea of cameras and smiling faces, he felt a kind of peace he hadn’t known in far too long.
It’s over, he thought. I did it.
SUNDAY
D plus 57
McCarthy Residence
Birchwood, Colorado
“You’re going to have to help me with this part at least,” Emma said, looking impatiently at Dan as he sat on the couch watching the news. “I can’t reach high enough to pin the banner up.”
“I just want to see this one last thing. It’s Alessandro and everyone else from the observatory in Italy.”
Emma placed the “WELCOME HOME!” banner on the floor and took a seat next to Dan; Clark and Henry weren’t due home for another ten minutes or so, and she was far more interested in seeing these familiar Italian faces than the tenth repeat of Godfrey’s landmark speech that had just finished airing.
William Godfrey, by any sensible measure the most powerful man in the world, had three hours earlier addressed a livelier-than-normal room of reporters in China. Tellingly, he used the term “post-hostility world” five times in as many minutes.
The GSC’s Chairman began his speech by confirming the provenance and authenticity of the Austrian plaque, which had already been subject to further extensive testing and material analysis under the watchful eye of British and French officials.
“While I take my responsibilities as head of this Commission extremely seriously,” Godfrey said, “my responsibility to be candid and open is just as important. For that reason, and without regret, I stand here before you to admit that the decisions we made in New York were made with incomplete information. To be blunt: there was not and is not an immediate threat to our planetary security. And I understand perfectly the sentiment that now, in this post-hostility world, the kind of Shield we came together to develop no longer seems necessary.”
Emma hadn’t expected quite this level of candour from Godfrey, but from a PR perspective she appreciated both the timing and the strength of his speech. Like all effective politicians, Godfrey saw that the tide had turned in an instant and wasted no time in turning with it.
&
nbsp; He continued: “But to echo the words of my personal friend Dan McCarthy — words he shared just a few steps from the spot where I shook his hand and thanked him for his selflessness several months ago — it would indeed be a crying shame to throw away the progress we’ve made since then. That said, it’s abundantly clear that much has changed with the Austrian discovery. Our priorities must change, too, and change they will.”
Godfrey went on to announce that the DS-2 project would continue, albeit with a more narrow focus on asteroid interception and the “increasingly serious issue” of satellite-threatening space junk. He also touched on the importance of being able to decisively protect vital satellites from radical non-state actors, an ability previously hamstrung by treaty-based restrictions which were no longer an issue now that the project was collaborative.
As Emma had directly predicted, and much to Dan’s delight, Godfrey then announced that the GSC would be proactive in adapting to the Austrian discovery. Step one was a change of name: the GSC acronym remained, but Shield gave way to Space.
“As Chairman of the newly rechristened Global Space Commission,” Godfrey beamed, “it is my great honour to announce a groundbreaking agreement between the GSC’s member nations which commits us all to the development and launch of Research Station One, humanity’s first truly international space station. Details will be revealed next week regarding RS-1, a new space station for the new space generation.”
Dan had no doubt that Godfrey and his colleagues were motivated by a pathological drive to retain and entrench their own positions of power rather than any real commitment to scientific progress, but he didn’t let that bother him; investment in peaceful and collaborative space science was good news whatever the motive of those who announced it.
President Slater spoke soon after Godfrey, lauding the number of American jobs that would be created to meet construction needs for the “gargantuan structure” that was RS-1. Slater vowed that the United States would remain at the forefront of space exploration and called on the nation’s students to rise to the occasion and set themselves up for a rewarding career in what was sure to become the boom industry of the coming years and decades.
Clark had heard both speeches on the radio on his way to bring Henry home from the hospital. He called Dan immediately after Slater’s, relieved and ecstatic that “everyone bought it.”
“That’s because it’s real,” Dan had told him. “Those aliens are real, they wrote that message, and they left that plaque in Austria. No one bought anything, because there’s nothing to buy.”
Clark, surprised by Dan’s reaction, promised not to say anything else about it. “I’m just glad everything worked out,” he’d said. “That’s all.”
Dan now sat with Emma on the couch listening to his friends from Timo Fiore’s Italian observatory as they tried to put into words how it felt to know not only that the Messengers were peaceful but also what they looked like.
A brief replay aired of the observatory’s staff jumping around with Dan and carrying him on their shoulders in celebration of the moment the Kerguelen sphere was first lifted from the ocean in Argentina.
Seeing those scenes made Dan feel more emotions than he had the words to describe.
“Do you think that feels like it was more or less than four and a half months ago?” Emma asked him.
“Try four and a half lifetimes,” he replied.
Emma stood up to get back to work on decorating the house for Henry’s imminent arrival. Dan and Clark had both told her over and over again that their dad didn’t like anyone making a fuss over him, but Emma said that a few balloons and banners to welcome him home after spending so long in hospital was just common decency. “It’s not like we’re throwing him a surprise birthday party,” she said.
Dan got up to help her with the final banners.
“Shit,” Emma said, turning towards the front of the house as she heard a car slowing up outside. “Hurry up, that’s them!”
* * *
Dan finished pinning up the last banner. “We’re not telling him,” he said, realising only now that he’d forgotten to share this crucial point with Emma. “Me and Clark both decided it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to keep it quiet. It’s different for us, with everything we know and everything we’ve been through, because we went through it bit by bit. Could you imagine someone dropping everything on you at once? Walker, Ben, the cornfield, the forest… everything. It wouldn’t be fair. Besides, he would literally kill Richard Walker. We’re not telling him.”
Emma hadn’t even considered the dilemma facing Dan and Clark over whether the tell Henry about everything that had happened recently, but she both respected and fully supported their decision. “Okay,” she said, and nothing more.
The next voice either of them heard was Clark’s: “I said no balloons!”
Emma laughed at how annoyed he sounded as he put Henry’s bags in the living room. “They’re not for you,” she said. Clark pretended to rip the small banner from the front door when he walked past on his way back to the car to help Henry into his wheelchair.
Dan watched quietly. It would take some getting used to.
“There he is,” Henry boomed as Clark pushed him up the recently installed ramp. “Dan McCarthy, hero of Birchwood! You know, it’s funny. They told me the town put up a sign about one of my sons…”
“That’s joke’s almost as old as you,” Dan said.
Emma expected them all to hug or something. They didn’t. Henry turned to address her.
“Welcome home,” she said, preempting his greeting. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“And you,” Henry said warmly. “Thanks for keeping my idiot boys alive all this time. God knows it’s hard enough at the best of times! So I hear you bought old Mrs Naylor’s place next door?”
Emma nodded. “I like it here.”
“Hard not to, huh? Hell of a lot of change since I left, though. The drive-in, the sign, the gate… honestly, you fall asleep for a few months and the world goes crazy!”
The doorbell rang. Clark opened the door to reveal Mr Byrd and Phil Norris.
“Phil! Walter!” Henry said. “Get your sorry asses in here.”
Walter, Emma thought, realising only then that in five months and countless meetings she’d never heard or asked Mr Byrd’s first name.
“What the hell have you done to the drive-in?” Henry fired at Phil.
“Turned it into money,” Phil said. “With a little help from these three.”
“Is the Kerguelen folder still locked in your vault?” Dan butted in.
“Yup. Safest place in the world,” Phil said. “You want it out?”
Dan nodded. “Take it for New Ker-grillin’. Frame it and hang it on the wall or put it in a display case or something. You’ll make even more money.”
“For real?”
“The leak’s over and the truth’s out,” Dan said. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world if something happened to the folder now so if people want to see it and you can get a little something out of it, you might as well.”
Henry cleared his throat. “You can keep Dan’s folder on one condition,” he said to Phil.
“What’s that?”
“I want one of those free-meal cards like the one you gave Clark.”
“So you’re literally using me as a meal ticket?” Dan laughed.
Henry laughed, too. “I knew I’d find a use for you one of these days.”
Phil pretended to think it over. “Deal,” he sighed, extending his hand to Henry.
Walter Byrd’s phone then rang in his pocket. He answered it, spoke for only a few seconds to confirm Henry was home, and put it away. “Terry’s on his way,” he announced. “Some of the other guys will be here a little later.”
“We’ll leave you to it,” Clark said, well aware that Henry’s colleagues from the fire department and probably half of the local police force would be there to toast his return home well into the night.
Emma followed Clark to the door. Dan, often slower to pick up on such social cues, didn’t realise he was also leaving until Clark called him.
“Emma,” Henry yelled. “Before you go.”
She stopped at the door. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for the balloons.”
“That’s okay,” Emma said, gloatlingly prodding Clark in the back as they walked through the front door.
D plus 58
Hawker’s Hill
Birchwood, Colorado
“I think I’m going to try to be a cop,” Clark announced, breaking a long silence.
“Yeah?” Dan said, looking away from the stars and towards the bench Clark was lying on.
“Yeah. I probably couldn’t go back to the security work in Iraq even if I wanted to, but I’m pretty good at that kind of stuff.”
“What about your breathing thing?” Emma asked. “Is that not why you had to leave the army?”
Clark shrugged. “That was three years ago. I don’t think the health requirements for police work are anywhere near as strict, anyway. It’s not like I’m not fit.”
“You just want free donuts to go with your free meals,” Dan said.
Clark laughed and sat up, quickly regretting the way he’d been lying as a pain ran up his left shoulder. “Speaking of meals… I’m going to head down to the grill. You two coming?”
“I’m not hungry,” Emma said.
“Me neither,” Dan added.
“All the more for me. Uh, Emma, can I get the key for your place? I want to give my dad a chance to catch up with all the guys.”
Emma took the key out of her pocket and tossed it to Clark. “I don’t think I locked it, though. See: can’t do that in New York.”
“I don’t think you want to start a game of things you can do in New York versus things you can do in Birchwood,” Clark grinned, setting off down the hill towards the red neon letters of New Ker-grillin’ Bar & Grill.
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