Dark Nights

by Christopher A. Gray

  “Cheryl didn’t want to leave without speaking with you,” Janet said. “She wanted to be here when you woke up, she had no choice. Quarantine is quarantine though, so she wants to talk to you as soon as possible after her group returns to Andrews.”

  Doug nodded. It must be tough for Janet too. Doug knew how she felt about him, and he knew that he had made his attraction to her just a clear. But what would happen now that Cheryl was present? Would she stay on Earth? Would that be permitted? Or would it even be ethical? Cheryl’s surviving relatives and friends would be exposed to the same stress and confusion he was going through, assuming the details of the Envoy were ever made public. And am I even asking the right questions, Doug thought, because that’s not really any Cheryl McBride I ever knew. He shook his head in an attempt to clear the confusion, but all he succeeded in doing was aggravating his headache.

  “It’s not Cheryl,” Doug said to Janet, wincing in pain as he spoke. “I’m working through the confusion and I need your help. This will only become misdirection if we let it. We need to be focused now, more than ever.” Janet looked at Doug for a moment. She was searching his eyes for misdirection of his own, but there was only sincerity. They held each other’s hand and relaxed. Slightly.

  – 26 –

  A little over twenty-four hours later Doug and Janet held hands in the back seat of the now-familiar Suburban as Agent Bishop drove them to a large, nondescript, unmarked building on the base. The emotional part of his psyche was tense at the prospect of seeing Cheryl face-to-face.

  He experienced momentary flashes of despair when he thought about it logically. It wasn’t really her. His Cheryl had died. This Cheryl had a separate life, on a different planet. Where they never intended to marry. After he died on FLO… no, scratch that, Doug thought. After the parallel Doug died on FLO, Cheryl no doubt moved on. She had moved on. The situation was utterly alien. Literally no human being had ever been through it before. It was enough to drive a person mad, he thought.

  He was also aware of the effect it had on Janet, so they’d talked about it late into the night. Doug told Janet that he was in love with her, and a meeting with Cheryl would not change that fact. It was a meeting of necessity, for scientific and diplomatic reasons. And for emotional reasons. Janet understood.

  As the small group got out of the Suburban and approached the debriefing building, Agent Bishop noticed Doug hesitate at the entrance. Janet was just looking straight ahead, standing next to Doug and waiting for him to make the next move.

  “I know this is rough on you,” Bishop said quietly. “I can’t imagine what I’d be thinking in your situation. There’s a waiting room just past the guard and security station inside. Go there. It will give you a chance to collect your thoughts.”

  “Thanks, I’ll do that.”

  The duty officer scanned their IDs and issued security passes. The waiting room just beyond was sparsely furnished and utilitarian. Fresh coffee and some fruit and biscuits were laid out. Doug and Janet helped themselves while Bishop walked further into the building. They were in the waiting room for only a few minutes when Singh and Wilson joined them.

  “They sent the second-tier away,” Singh said. “We’re basically on call on an as needed basis. Agent Bishop said you’d be here.”

  “Any new information on our guests?” Janet asked.

  Wilson shrugged his shoulders. “Not really. There’ve been a lot of introductions and small talk, and plenty of we hope our two worlds will have lots of laughs together and share recipes diplomatic speak.”

  Doug remained mostly silent as the three others talked about the Envoy and what might happen next. Doug and the rest were to continue working at the Pentagon for the next week at least. There was no indication of how long the Envoy was staying, or where they would be residing while on Earth.

  Agent Bishop returned, and went over to Doug and Janet.

  “She’s just outside,” he said in a low tone. “Are you okay with meeting her now?”

  Doug’s heart skipped a beat, but he nodded the affirmative.

  “You’ll have about ten minutes before she will need to continue debriefing with the others.” Agent Bishop put his hand on Doug’s shoulder and leaned in. “Keep it personal – nothing about Andrews, the Pentagon, the White House, or any security or defense information you became aware of since being drafted into this project, all right? The room is under surveillance, so use that to our advantage.”

  “I understand.”

  Agent Bishop glanced at the rest of the group. They got the message and moved to an empty interview room across the hall. Janet squeezed Doug’s hand then followed the others out.

  Agent Bishop stood at the room entrance and held the door. Cheryl McBride entered the room, the alternate Cheryl McBride, smiling and looking radiant.

  She stood a few paces into the room. Agent Bishop stood by the door, watching discretely.

  “Doug…”

  They were an arm’s length apart. Doug looked into her eyes. He was speechless. A small part of his consciousness asserted that this was not ‘his’ Cheryl McBride – she was a visiting dignitary.

  “My God, Cheryl.”

  He regretted the words immediately. Calling the person standing before him by the name of his former fiancé felt almost like a betrayal.

  “I know Doug, I lost you too. I understand we… I mean, you and the other Cheryl were to be married.” Doug nodded.

  “It never went that far with us. We dated for a couple of months, then remained friends. You went off to Hawaii, and then...”

  “Yes. I heard. I died.”

  Doug resisted an almost overpowering urge to step closer and give her a hug.

  “I know this is difficult, she said. “I went through some of the same feelings last month after we intercepted your world’s broadcasts. Initially it was a wildly complex jumble of data until we started doing targeted searches. Naturally we started with ourselves with people we knew or had known.”

  “And you saw that I was alive,” Doug said.

  “Yes. We realized that many of the people were the same, and that you were alive and still in the scientific field. I knew we would likely meet. There’s no precedent. Nobody has gone through this before.”

  They sat down at large table on either side of the same corner so they were close and facing each other.

  “There’s so much I want to ask about your life,” Doug said, “but why all the secrecy about your arrival?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry for that. Much of our own population was kept in the dark too, although we needed to make a statement soon after the event. There were too many physical manifestations of the transference. We had to reveal to the public what had happened. But we were also afraid of what universe we had stepped into. Whether your Earth would be friendly, hostile or have any civilization at all. So we studied you for a time, right up to our arrival.”

  “By viewing our broadcasts.”

  “And by tapping into your internet, yes.”

  “That’s how you knew I was alive,” Doug asked, “through web searches, and why you invited me to the landing.”

  Cheryl nodded. “It was thought it might go easier for us if we had a friend of sorts in the greeting party. Of our top scientists, apparently only a few lives overlapped sufficiently between our two worlds. Many of the same people exist but random events led them in different directions. But you must also believe I had personal reasons for wanting to see you.”

  “Of course,” Doug returned her smile. She looked identical, aside from the almost imperceptible differences resulting from being two years older. Her hair was a bit shorter. She wore no jewelry at all except for what looked like a thin clear plastic bracelet, about an inch wide, that closely hugged her wrist. Doug had given his Cheryl a gold necklace she’d worn constantly. He wondered if this Cheryl had been given the bracelet by her Doug Lockwood.

  “The staff here are going to call me back in a few moments, but perhaps we could have dinner tom
orrow, just the two of us.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s a realistic idea,” Doug said, “or even if it’s a good idea for us, personally. I’m very pleased to see you Cheryl, but I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable with the situation.”

  Her expression changed slightly. Doug wasn’t sure if it was one of surprise at his honesty or relief because she actually felt the same way.

  The door opened. Another agent stepped in and spoke to Bishop.

  “Sorry, but we need you Dr. McBride,” Bishop said.

  She stood up and moved slightly toward Doug, but he leaned back in his chair ever so slightly away from her. She looked confused for a brief moment, then turned toward the door when Bishop walked over and touched her lightly on the shoulder.

  “See you later,” he said as she walked away.

  – 27 –

  The next day it would have been business as usual except that the science teams were being moved en-masse to Andrews. Organized confusion, short tempers and stress ruled. Technical limits and the occasional misdirection were getting the best of everyone. The Envoy’s arrival hadn’t changed the mission of finding out as much as possible about FLO, but the imaging and detection obviously couldn’t get any better. And there were still no detectable radio or television broadcasts.

  Foley turned to Doug. They had been moved into billets on the base and were working in a high security building stuffed with computers and bristling on the outside with communications arrays.

  “I thought they turned off their regular broadcasts to avoid detection. Now that they’ve revealed themselves, why haven’t they resumed normal day-to-day operations?”

  “I don’t know,” Doug said. “It has been bothering me too.”

  “Can you ask your ex-girlfriend about it? Maybe she knows something.”

  Doug shot Foley an annoyed glance. Foley didn’t notice – he seemed easily distracted lately and looked pale, and was perspiring despite the air conditioning. A second later Foley logged off his workstation and left, presumably for another of his many breaks.

  Probably coming down with something, brought on by all the stress, Doug said to himself. I’m surprised we’re not all sick.

  Doug’s thoughts turned back to Cheryl. During their brief meeting she hadn’t mentioned anything about FLO’s continued broadcast silence. She had to cancel her offer of dinner due to briefings. Hopefully they would get the chance to see each other again soon. I did not ask any of the questions I should have. That ‘friend of sorts’ bit she mentioned might be a two-way street leading to some useful information about FLO.

  He felt guilty at the thought that he couldn’t completely stop some glimmer of feelings for Cheryl’s duplicate. Or perhaps his thoughts were more for the memory of the real Cheryl, come alive again for him to see and touch. This Cheryl is real too though, Doug thought, but more likely sent to confuse, a vaguely cruel inside joke by the mission architects on FLO. Deliberate, or if not, that’s how it’s working out.

  During his lunch break Doug wanted some time away from his shift colleagues and so went to the visitor’s mess. He was deep in thought about Cheryl when he looked up to see Carl Bertrand standing with his lunch tray. He was accompanied by another member of the Envoy and two agents.

  “May I join you Dr. Lockwood?”

  Doug hesitated a second, surprised. He gestured to the seat. The other individuals sat slightly further down the long table.

  “Thank you. I’m glad to see you feeling better. Dr. McBride was very concerned, as were we all.”

  “Thanks. It was a little embarrassing.”

  “Not at all. I can only imagine the shock at seeing a loved one who had passed on two years before. You had probably only just come to terms with her death and then…”

  “Yes.”

  Bertrand spoke with an educated French accent. He had changed from his flight suit into civilian clothes. He was wearing the same transparent plastic wrist band as Cheryl. Our security officials have banded them like wild birds, Doug thought.

  “I also wish to apologize for the secrecy of our arrival. To be honest, it was reasoned that if your planet were given too much advance notice there would be a greater chance of a rogue nation or terror group taking advantage of the situation, using force to push their agenda or perhaps even making an attempt to intercept or destroy our craft.”

  “Yes, I imagine our world isn’t as politically stable as yours.”

  It sounded reasonable. But Doug thought their surprise visit was just as risky. After the landing was announced he had overheard a military advisor say that their uninvited landing was a grave security risk. The advisor had recommended the ship not be allowed to touch down, blowing it out of the sky if necessary.

  “No matter. We’re here now and we wish nothing more than friendship between our two worlds. We are somewhat forced neighbors, so it is best if we are friends, yes?”

  Doug was distracted by some animated red symbols that appeared on Bertrand’s wrist band. Not a band given to them by base security after all, he realized.

  “Do you mind me asking what that is?” Doug pointed to the band.

  “The Raim? It’s basically the equivalent of your smartphone. A small mobile computer, health monitor, communication device, with numerous other functions. They became commonplace about four years ago. Almost every citizen has one.”

  The device scrolled some words and symbols in different colors and directions. Doug didn’t manage to recognize any before it abruptly stopped.

  “Amazing,” he said. “It’s entirely transparent. Where’s the battery?”

  “Power is generated through the wearer’s body heat, movements, and surrounding ambient light. The storage cell is transparent and flexible. The user can input commands through voice or gestures, with or without touch. It is very adept at interpreting what the user intends and over time it customizes itself to their habits and preferences.”

  Doug regarded Bertrand as he spoke. For a visitor he was supremely confident and self-assured. It bordered on smugness. Perhaps it came from a feeling of security, of knowing that his civilization’s technology was at least a generation ahead of Earth’s. Or was it due to being confident about a plan that FLO and the Envoy had yet to reveal? Nobody on Earth knew if the Envoy or their incredible machine had any designs on the planet or its people beyond the stated diplomatic overtures.

  “Dr. Bertrand, we’re deeply curious to learn about the process you used to get here. You say a quantum supercomputer ‒ Mekhos ‒ initiated an inter-dimensional transfer of your entire planet. I can’t imagine the computational and power resources required. How was it possible? Is your government in command of the computer, or did Mekhos do this on its own initiative?”

  For the first time, the confident Bertrand looked uncomfortable.

  “I’m sorry but those are questions we will answer later in another briefing, Dr. Lockwood. For now we wish to create normal relations between our two planets. I’m sure there is much we can learn from each other.”

  From what Doug had seen and heard so far, that seemed unlikely. What could FLO learn from Earth, aside from using our more violent recent history as the basis for an educational television documentary?

  One subject that Bertrand was willing to talk about was his ship. It did indeed have its origins in the Shuttle. On Earth the same basic shuttle had remained in service for nearly thirty years. On FLO it had been totally redesigned every few years. Bertrand said that NASA had more funds at its disposal since almost every country, including the United States, had less need for a large military or covert operations budget.

  Bertrand explained that since their processor technology had grown by leaps and bounds, computer aided design allowed for a massive improvement in the craft’s capabilities with the last revamp. The current ship was as versatile as a jetliner and space shuttle rolled into one. And it obviously boasted the ability to quickly travel within the inner solar system. Bertrand said that if they loaded enough fuel an
d supplies the ship could travel to Mars and back if they wanted, in just a few months rather than the two-year trip it would take with Earth technology.

  Doug was startled by the loud clang sound of a metal lunch tray being dropped beside him on the table. Singh quickly sat down beside Doug and extended his hand to Bertrand.

  “Dr. Bertrand, it’s terrific to meet you, I’m Charles Singh.”

  Bertrand briefly hesitated at the interruption, but smiled and shook hands with the engineer.

  “Likewise, Mr. Singh.”

  “Could you please explain to me,” Singh said quickly, almost out of breath, “your ship’s course and speed? We were unable to track your ship prior to only a few days ago. Some of us have speculated that to arrive here in so short a time you would have needed to slingshot around Venus in a hyperbolic trajectory, but Venus was not in the correct position at the time.”

  Doug leaned back and yielded the floor to Singh. As rude as Singh’s uncharacteristic interruption was, it was also understandable and Doug was also perplexed about the very short time the ship took to get to Earth. Bertrand paused and took a sip of juice before answering, which only prompted Singh to continue.

  “However, in a few weeks time, Venus will be in perfect position for a return—”

  “We would have preferred to slingshot around Venus, but as you say, the planet could not be utilized due to its orbital position relative to your Earth. We used the Sun instead.”

  “How close did you get?” asked Doug.

  “About 0.15 AU.”

  Singh’s jaw dropped. Doug realized the ship had been twice as close to the Sun as the orbit of Mercury. Bertrand saw the reaction of the two men and answered their unasked question.

  “Collapsible mirrored foil is deployed to shield the ship from the Sun’s heat. As for the speed—”

  Singh brought his hands up as if to encompass the world.

  “The speeds required and the engine thrust employed must have been enormous!” he practically shouted. A few people sitting at tables nearby looked over. Bertrand nodded his head casually, as if the accomplishment were routine.