by R J Johnson
She winked at him and turned, bouncing lightly on her feet as she exited the store. The clerk watched her every move until the door closed.
“You better believe it,” the clerk said to the swinging door.
Christina caught up to Scott who was already around the back of the building, examining their haul. “What’d you get?”
“All sorts of good stuff,” Scott said, handing Christina a Coke and one of the pre-made sandwiches.
Christina nodded toward the frozen dinners in the bag Scott had grabbed, “Those aren’t gonna last long. You have a plan on where we can go next?”
Scott turned, and looked up at the peak where his town had gotten its name from. “Yeah, I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
Chapter Four
Carlos Aguirre was standing on a tarmac in the middle of nowhere cooling his heels outside the Vice-President’s plane Air Force Two. The colonel flying the second most powerful man in the world had insisted they land once they heard what happened to the President and the White House. No one had much information on what was going on, but Aguirre knew his boss had probably just ascended to the most powerful position in the world.
Immediately following the call, Aguirre’s emotions ran the gamut, from glee to absolute despair. After years of campaigning, they finally had their shot at running the nation.
The only problem was that after Kline got through with them, there may not be much of the nation left to run.
The Vice-President emerged from the bunker, heading towards his plane and Aguirre, the worry evident on his round face.
“How bad is it?” The VP asked, already knowing the answer.
“He got everyone,” Aguirre answered his voice neutral. “Reports are there was a bloodbath in the situation room.”
“The President?”
“Unknown at this time,” Aguirre answered. “But I doubt anyone would challenge your constitutional authority at this point.”
The Vice President lowered his head briefly and then raised it back up. “We still have a nation to run,” the Vice President said briskly. “Just how bad can it be?”
“He launched nuclear missiles against Lutvenia after they refused to submit,” Aguirre said. “Kline’s threatened to launch more against any other country who defies him.”
“How the hell did he get access to nukes?” the Vice President demanded. “Don’t we have safeguards for this sort of…?”
“The launch orders didn’t come from anyone,” Aguirre answered. He hesitated.
“What is it?”
“Well sir, the missiles launched autonomously.”
The Vice President’s eyes widened as the impact of this information hit him. “Part of his ‘powers?’”
“We believe so sir,” Aguirre answered softly. “From what we can tell, there’s no real limit to what Kline can do now.”
The Vice President grimaced as he remembered the phone call his people had intercepted. Kline was onto him. The plan had originally called for the Vice President to act as Kline’s proxy during the initial takeover, however, after his plan to take Kline’s stones had failed in the Battle of New York, his partnership with Kline was clearly over with.
“Tell the colonel I want us back in the air immediately,” the VP said, stepping up the staircase. “We need to head for Washington.” The Vice President began climbing the stairs when Aguirre cleared his throat, stopping his boss.
“What is it?” The VP asked turning back to Aguirre, pushing his sunglasses up to see his Chief of Staff better.
“Sir, we know Kline,” Aguirre said. “He helped us raise millions for the party. We have a history with the man. Isn’t there some way we can…” Aguirre shrugged, “negotiate some kind of surrender?”
The Vice President’s face remained neutral, but Aguirre could tell he had already thought about that. “Kline won’t be reasoned with,” the Vice President said. “Whatever it is he wants, he’ll simply take for himself, no matter what we might offer. Surrender is irrelevant. So far as Kline’s concerned, we’re already beaten and it’s only a matter of choosing which he will take first.”
The Vice President turned and headed up the stairs ducking into Air Force Two. The massive engines of the Boeing C-32 began to spin up as they prepared to leave the North Dakota airbase. Aguirre turned, following his boss up the stairs, heading for the VP’s private office on board.
“Do we have tape of Kline at Madison Square Garden?” The Vice-President asked, moving around his desk to sit down. He picked up the phone that rang directly to the plane’s pilot. “Let’s get moving.”
Aguirre took out his tablet and called up the relevant video as the plane’s engines spun up. He placed the tablet in front of the Vice President as the pilot began to take off.
They watched as Kline helped an elderly woman out of her wheelchair, giving her the ability to walk once again. The crowd inside the arena roared in approval as the video ended.
The Vice President sighed and looked up at Carlos. “See what I mean? People are already flocking to New York City to help Kline. A few more ‘miracles’ like this one, and he’ll have people worshipping him as the next Jesus Christ.”
He sighed, “And then he won’t even need to control people’s minds. They’ll willingly go along regardless of what we do.”
Aguirre sighed, and shook his head, sitting down across from the Vice President. “Still, negotiation could buy the military some time to figure out how to attack and neutralize Kline.
“Possibly,” the Vice President admitted. “But then what? What if we fail?”
Aguirre didn’t like the path the Vice President was taking them down. He decided it was better to move on to other matters. If they couldn’t control Kline, perhaps they could control his message.
Aguirre took out a fresh notebook from his pocket and a pen, holding it at the ready, “We should address the people. Let them know they’re not alone.”
“And tell them what?” The Vice President asked, irritated.
“Something. Anything. So long as the people see that we still have a functioning government working to stop Kline, that will go a long way toward preventing unrest in the major cities,” Aguirre said.
“You mean the major cities that are still standing and not under Kline’s control…” the Vice President muttered.
Aguirre ignored that, “There are a lot of scared voters out there right now, and they need a strong message from someone in charge of what remains of the US Government.”
The Vice President shook his head, “I think our assault on New York proved Kline isn’t going anywhere.”
“Then…” Aguirre swallowed. “What do we do?”
The Vice President sighed heavily, and rubbed his face. After all these years. After all his planning, the money, the promises, there was only one thing left to do after a failure so complete.
“We surrender and hope Kline allows us to retain some modicum of power.”
Aguirre’s eyes went wide, and he shook his head, “Sir?”
“If the last week has proven anything, it’s that we are dealing with forces far beyond anything even our military can handle,” the Vice President replied. “What else would you have me do? Nuke our own cities? Kill the very people I’m sworn to protect? Kline doesn’t care. Not with those damned powers of his.”
“We make a deal?” Aguirre said. It was plain from his tone that he didn’t like his bosses’ plan. “What happens next? What’s to stop him from killing us both?”
“You don’t have to come along,” the Vice President told his chief of staff. “I’ll go in, alone. Try and negotiate a deal for the American people. Tell him that if he leaves America out of his plans, he’ll face no resistance from us.”
“Neutral territory,” Aguirre said, nodding. “We give him a home base, and promise not to interfere with his operations.”
“As if he were still running MARS Security,” the Vice President. “He’ll get what he wants, and we’ll have protected th
e American people.”
“I think that’s a deal we can take to Congress,” Aguirre said. “They know what Kline is capable of. We can show them that it’s better to get along to go along.”
The Vice President’s mind turned to thoughts about his deal with Kline so long ago. If there was room to reopen their deal, then perhaps there was a chance for all of them. It was a good deal for them both after all.
“How long is the flight to D.C.?” the Vice President asked.
“About four hours from here, but…”
“What is it?” the Vice President snapped.
Aguirre stiffened at his bosses’ tone, but pressed on. “From the reports we’re getting, Kline’s not in D.C. any longer.”
“Then where is he?”
“Unknown,” Aguirre said. “Our people lost track of him shortly after the Situation Room incident.”
“He’s not back in New York?”
Aguirre looked embarrassed. “Intelligence can’t be sure of anything when it comes to Kline. But he’s not there. We know that much.”
“Then who’s running things back in D.C.?” the Vice President demanded. “That man of his? Geoffrey Tate?”
Aguirre shook his head, “Someone named…” he checked his notes. “Nathaniel Ash.”
The Vice President spat out his coffee. Ash was still alive. That could mean they had a chance to turn things around yet. Perhaps Ash had been able to infiltrate Kline’s operation after all.
“Get us back to D.C.” the Vice President ordered. “We may have options after all.”
Aguirre nodded and picked up the phone to the cockpit, giving them the President’s orders.
There was a quiet knock at the office door. Aguirre turned to open it and let in three people. The Vice President’s office on board Air Force Two wasn’t large, and it was beginning to feel a bit crowded inside.
“Mr. Vice President, allow me to introduce Judge Reginald Thurlow,” Aguirre said pointing to the man in flannel and worn blue jeans. “He was the first judge we could find.”
“Mr. Vice President,” Judge Thurlow extended a large meaty hand that spoke of years of hard labor. The Vice President shook the man’s hand, surprised by the strong grip. This was not a man who wasted away behind the bench. This was someone who worked for a living.
“Judge, thank you so much for doing this on short notice,” the Vice President said. “I only wish it were under better circumstances.”
Judge Thurlow eyed the Vice President up and down as if taking the measure of the man. “Seems to me there might not be another one of these ceremonies. Do you have a bible?”
Aguirre turned, and withdrew one from a nearby cabinet. “It’s from the hotel we were staying at,” he said, as if apologizing for its rough condition.
“It’ll do just fine,” Judge Thurlow said. “Mr. Vice President, if you don’t mind?”
The Vice President stood and placed his hand on the bible Aguirre was holding. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“Mr. Vice President,” Judge Thurlow began, “Please repeat after me. I, Roger Hutton…”
The Vice President straightened his back as he absorbed the importance of this moment. “I, Roger Hutton…”
“Do solemnly affirm that I will faithfully execute the office of the President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.”
The Vice President briefly hesitated. He briefly wondered how much of the United States was left for him to preserve, protect and defend.
“Sir?” Aguirre asked, quietly, nudging his boss.
“Yes, of course, I do solemnly affirm I will faithfully execute the office of the President of the United States and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.”
“Congratulations Mr. President,” Judge Thurlow said extending his hand once again. The President took it, feeling strange. He had always wondered what this moment might feel like. Needless to say, he never expected these would be the circumstances that would take him to the nation’s highest office.
Aguirre turned to his boss, a grim smile on his face. “Mr. President, these other two men are from the Pentagon and will walk you through the nuclear football.”
The President swallowed, as if the realities of the position had just crashed down on him.
“Let’s get started then, shall we?” The President said, after a moment.
Chapter Five
Alex was blind.
He had no idea what was going on. He couldn’t see anything, nor hear anything that might help clue him into where he was. What was especially strange was the fact that he couldn’t feel any kind of bandage or hood that might prevent him from seeing. It was as if his vision had been taken away.
However, while he couldn’t see, he could hear. It was a familiar sound, almost as if a thousand crickets at once were chirping all at once.
“Hello?” Alex called out. “There’s been some kind of mistake.”
The chirping went silent, and Alex sat up, attempting to feel his way around. But there was nothing for him to hold on to. There was a noise to his left, and Alex turned, trying to peer through the darkness to see whatever it was moving around.
“Who’s out there?” Alex called out. “I can hear you.”
Silence greeted him. He stood and began wandering around the chamber, completely blind, stumbling around. There was another sound, a slight hiss that reminded him of the wind blowing through the pine trees in his hometown’s forests.
“Whoever you are, I can hear you,” Alex said. He turned his head, searching for the source of the sound. “Please…” he cried out, “I’m just here to help save my friends.”
“What are you?”
The voice came at him from everywhere, echoing in the crystal chamber, and for the first time, Alex felt relief.
“My name is Alex McCray, I’m here to save my friends and, I guess uhh… my planet from a…” Alex squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember what Emily had called the star’s explosion, “…umm, gamma ray burst.”
“What are you?” The voice repeated.
Alex looked confused, and waved his arms out further, hoping to touch the source of the voice. “I said that, I’m Alex, I’m here to help save my world from an exploding star.”
“What are you?”
Alex sighed. Whatever machine he was speaking to, was obviously broken.
“My name is Alex McCray,” Alex replied. “I come from a small planet named earth one million years in the future. I traveled here using a stone that I believe was created by an alien intelligence that I believe is supposed to help us save their world from an exploding star. There are eleven other stones out there possessed by a man who would do my people and my planet great harm.”
Alex paused, hoping that would be enough for the shapeless voice. He continued, “That’s why I’m here, to prevent an apocalypse for both our planets.”
“You know of our star’s death?”
This surprised Alex. It was the first time that the voice had said anything other than asking him who he was.
“You’re the Patrons?” Alex asked. “You guys actually exist?”
“Patrons?”
Alex shrugged in the darkness, “That’s the name we were given.”
“Names are irrelevant. Places are irrelevant. Who we are is irrelevant. What you are, is an anomaly. Something that should not exist. You are not part of the plan.”
“Oh?” Alex challenged. He stood, and began to feel his way around the chamber. “And what plan is that?”
“Your species does not inhabit this planet. Your species is a primitive one, and will not pose a threat.”
For an advanced race, they sure were dense. Or, they were having trouble with the concept of time-travel. Either way, he didn’t have time for a back and forth.
“Listen, wherever you think I’m supposed to be, I’m here now. And I’m someone w
ho is here to help.”
“Your species is irrelevant,” the voice informed him. “This planet has been designated for us to use as a refuge for our species.”
Alex couldn’t mask his surprise. “But, I’ve seen your world. Why leave when you have the Channel?”
There was silence for a moment, and the chirping began in earnest once again. Alex looked around, hoping to catch anything that might help.
“What do you know about the Channel?” the voice returned sounding irritated.
“That’s what you guys call it, isn’t it?” Alex said sounding less sure of himself. That is what the Old Man had called the pods the Patrons had plugged themselves into.
“The channel is an unrealistic solution to our star’s future death. Your star is a young one, with the ability to power our civilization for another six billion years. We are reforming your system and planet to adapt to our needs.”
“You’re going to colonize our planet?” Alex asked, unsure if he really wanted the answer to his next question, “What happens to us?”
“Your species is irrelevant,” the voice answered.
Alex shook his head, “But, you gave us the twelve stones to save your planet and ours!”
“We have no record of interaction. We have claimed this planet. Your species does not exist on this planet yet. There is no one to challenge our claim.”
Alex considered this for a moment. “Are you saying if there were a representative on this planet, we could make our claim?”
He waited for a moment for their response.
“Patrons? Still with me?” Alex called out to the inky darkness.
“You intend to claim this planet for your species?” the voice echoed through the chamber.
“I do.” Alex said firmly. “But, I believe there are way your species and ours can help one another.”
“To what purpose?”
Alex grinned.
“What if I showed you what was possible?” Alex asked, his confidence growing. “Our two civilizations can coexist in peace. I’ve seen it.”