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by Al Macy

  “You’re never going to get tired of calling me that, are you?”

  “Probably not, Nana.” Charli put a towel over her shoulder and sat down on a weight bench.

  “Is this an okay time to call?” Marie asked.

  Charli laughed. “I’ve told you many times, if I’m busy, I just won’t answer.”

  “Aren’t you working on that Meet the Press thing?”

  “I’m taking a few hours off. I deserve that now and then. So, tell me about being sheriff.” Charli leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees.

  “I know what you’re really asking.”

  “Really asking? What do you—”

  “You want to know if I’ve killed anyone else,” Marie said.

  “I wasn’t thinking that. Why? Have you?”

  “No, just the one. The looter.”

  Charli heard tiredness in he grandmother’s voice. “Are you okay with that?”

  “Yes, pretty much. The guy turned out to be mentally ill, but there was no way for me to have known that. It had to be done. I really am okay with it. You know me.”

  “BMW.”

  Marie laughed. “Right.”

  “Some towns didn’t get the looting problem under control at the start. You definitely did the right thing.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Charli.”

  “Hey, I’ve got some news that you’ll be eager to hear. There’s a man that I’m kind of, maybe, interested in.

  “What do you mean, Charli?”

  “I mean that a guy—”

  “No, what do you mean that it’s news that I’d be eager to hear?”

  “Well, I know you think I should settle—”

  “Charlotta Candice Keller, how many times have I told you? I’m impressed with you and with the way you’ve lead your life. I want you to be happy, and I am not eager for you to find someone or settle down. Whatever you want to do is fine with me—”

  “But deep down, you’d enjoy having me bring home some man.” Charli stood up and walked over to the window. She could see Cronkite’s sphere still looking like it was glued to the top of the Washington Monument.

  “No, I dread it.”

  “You dread it? What do you mean?” Charli frowned.

  “I mean that if you bring someone to my house, you’re going to be watching me like a hawk to see if I approve or disapprove. I’m probably going to strain a muscle trying to keep my expression neutral.”

  “Like with Jake Number Two?” Charli laughed.

  “Humph. I’ve told you over and over, I liked him fine. You have to admit that the tie looked pretty bad.”

  Charli laughed again. By some weird coincidence—and that’s all it is—the first two boys she’d ever dated had both been named Jake, so they became known as Jake Number One and Jake Number Two. When she’d taken number two to meet Marie, he’d worn a garish tie. Charli had detected Marie’s glance at it, taken it as disapproval, and broken up with him the next day.

  “So, who is this guy that’s chasing after my granddaughter?”

  “Oh, he’s not chasing after me, and I’m not chasing after him. His name is Jake, and you can meet him Sunday on Meet the Press.”

  After a pause, Marie asked, “What do you mean?”

  “He’ll be on Meet the Press.” Charli could picture her grandmother’s confused expression.

  “What, you’re dating an Alien? Cronkite?”

  Charli laughed.

  Marie continued. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, dear. Whatever you decide. No, seriously, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “Remember the World’s Number One Problem-Solver guy? In the USA Now article? That’s the guy. So he’s Jake Number Three. We went on a bike ride together. Speaking of that, how’s Dad—how’s he enjoying retirement?”

  “Oh, I don’t see Sam much, but he’s happy. He wakes up every morning with nothing to do, and by the end of the day, he’s only gotten half of it done. He’s finally getting a chance to play farmer, because Barry Garson passed away in the die-off. Sam is running things for Barry’s widow.”

  “You still okay about Grandpa Earl?” Charli walked back to the exercise machine.

  “Yes, Dear. His mind was mostly gone already, so in that way it’s a blessing.”

  Charli unhooked the rods on the Bowflex. “So, any new hobbies?”

  “Well, law enforcement keeps me busy, but I do have a new hobby and you won’t believe what it is.”

  “What?”

  “Guns,” Marie said with a laugh in her voice.

  Charli squinted and paused. “As in collecting or shooting?”

  “Shooting. Target practice.”

  “No way. You’ve always been so anti-gun.”

  “It’s a different world now.”

  “Wow, Nana. I never would have believed it. And don’t you get tired? It isn’t too much work being sheriff?”

  “Yes. I’ve had my fun, but the emergency is over. They keep saying they’ll find a replacement—”

  “Do you want me to pull some strings?

  “No, I do not, young lady.”

  “Is that disapproval I hear in your voice?”

  Marie laughed. “Oh Charli, will you ever learn? I love you and I’m impressed with you. Please stop worrying about what I think.”

  “I’m just teasing you, Nana. I’ve got to go. Give my love to Dad. Watch Meet the Press on Sunday.”

  “Oh, silly. Everyone on the planet is going to be watching that.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  September 22, 2018

  Charli took a handful of almonds from the bowl and arranged her pens at the edge of her notepad. Why haven’t we made more progress? Three months since Cronkite’s sphere appeared, and still no clear idea why he’s here.

  The White House situation room made all meetings feel formal and important. Dark-blue carpeting and darker leather chairs matched the walnut tones of the conference table and louvered window shutters. Contrary to popular belief, this room was not underground. Today’s inner-circle meeting included the psychologists Avraham and Zaluski.

  She glanced over at Jake, who was deep in conversation with Dr. Zaluski. Jake always seemed to choose clothing that looked okay rumpled. Lands’ End chic.

  Hallstrom tapped the table with his pen and cleared his throat. “We’re here to prepare for tomorrow’s meeting with Cronkite. We want to try to anticipate what will be discussed, but most importantly, we want to talk about how we should act, and what we should say. First, I’d like a definitive answer on whether he caused the die-off.”

  Charli shook her head. “I don’t think we’re going to get that, but maybe if we discuss it, his demeanor will tell us something.”

  “Why do you think he chose to talk with only the US, and why Jake?” Hallstrom asked.

  Young answered. “It may indicate that he thinks in terms of a single government and sees you, President Hallstrom, as the closest thing to the king of the world that there is. Or maybe he just thought it would be simpler to deal with what he saw, based on our television transmissions, as the strongest government.”

  Zaluski raised her hand. “And I’ve got an idea concerning Jake.”

  Hallstrom asked, “What’s your idea?”

  “Two ideas, really, I realize you maybe don’t want more than … well, the first idea is this: It’s getting personal. He obviously saw the USA Now article calling Jake the world’s number one problem-solver. It talked about how great and smart he is. Cronkite sees that as taking attention away from him. I suspect that during the meeting, he’s going to want to show that he’s smarter and more powerful than Jake.”

  Avraham nodded. “I can go along with that. It’s like a mano a mano thing. He’s obsessed with Jake. We may be able to exploit that.”

  Hallstrom raised his eyebrows. “At the meeting?”

  “No, no, I wouldn’t take any chances at the meeting, especially since we need to learn more about him. But in the future, we may be
able to get Cronkite to do something stupid if his judgment is clouded by his desire to prove that he’s better than Jake.”

  “Okay, so we’ll put that on hold for now.” Hallstrom sat back down. “What do we think he wants at this meeting?”

  Zaluski raised her hand again. “Wait, the second thing is important, but I don’t know what we can do about it.”

  Everyone waited for her to continue.

  Zaluski said, “Well, I apologize to you, Jake, but we should find some way to not have Jake in the meeting.”

  “That would be fine with me,” Jake said. “What’s your thinking?”

  “Well, I’ve looked into your background, Jake, and … permission to speak freely?” Zaluski looked at Jake.

  “Of course. I can take it.” Jake leaned forward.

  “You have a tendency to speak your mind, Mr. Corby. You don’t suffer fools gladly. If you do this with Cronkite, I’m getting the impression that he might, what, retaliate or have a temper tantrum, something like that.”

  “Well, we have to balance that against Cronkite’s wishes. Any ideas?” Hallstrom looked around.

  “Could we fake an illness?” Guccio said.

  Avraham shook his head. “He’ll just postpone the meeting.”

  “Or that, by itself could be something that sets him off,” said Zaluski.

  Charli leaned back. “No, Jake has to be there. But he’s a grownup, he can keep from saying anything inflammatory. He can keep his mouth shut. Right, Jake?”

  Jake put his hands up, palms out. “No problem.”

  Hallstrom checked his notes. “Okay, that’s settled. So what is this meeting going to be like?”

  “According to Cronkite, he’s going to tell us what to do to prepare for the bad witch,” Jake said.

  Charli looked at him. “You think there’s something else?”

  He nodded slowly. “There’s something about the bad witch thing that doesn’t ring true for me. Why is Cronkite helping us? If he has any bones, I don’t think there’s an altruistic one in his body. He’s also apparently not in any rush to get us prepared. He disappeared for three months.”

  “So, what’s he want?” Charli said.

  Jake said, “He wants—no, I don’t want to say it yet. Let’s see what we can learn tomorrow.”

  “Come on, Jake, spit it out.” Hallstrom tapped his finger on the table.

  “No. I’m sorry. Please let me keep it to myself—I’m probably way off base.”

  Hallstrom slowly turned to the psychologists. “So, how do we get information from Cronkite?”

  “Obsequiousness,” said Avraham.

  Zaluski nodded vigorously. “Yes, that’s it. Bow down. ‘Oh great and wise one. We are not worthy. Tell us what we need to do. We need your guidance.’”

  Jake said, “I’m good at that.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Hallstrom checked his notes. “Okay, let’s start the simulation. Charli, why don’t you take the part of Cronkite first? Seth has set up our photoshop-on-steroids system so that, presuming our alien continues to use the Walter Cronkite avatar, it will be just like tomorrow.”

  After ten minutes of setup, Charli sat in front of the camera with her hands folded on the table. In the monitor, Walter Cronkite did the same. She played it straight. “Welcome to Meet the Press, gentlemen. I’m sure you have many questions for me, but before we begin, I’d like to make a brief statement …”

  They spent several hours on the simulation, with the psychologists going over every word.

  * * *

  After the meeting, Jake caught up with Dr. McGraw in the hall. “Hey, Seth, I have a feeling Cronkite might ask about the devices. Can you give me a quick demo of what we have so far?”

  Ten minutes later the two of them entered McGraw’s lab. The place was busy day and night—a high-tech Santa’s workshop.

  “I’d love to be working on this one.” McGraw tapped a line-drawing that had been blown up and placed on the wall. “It’s some kind of engine, a thruster, that works without propellant. It’s fascinating. Germany is the lead on this, and Finland is also working on it.”

  McGraw walked back to a corner. “We’ve built two devices so far, apart from the meditation thing. This one over here is apparently a high-tech—well, you’ll see. Please put your hands in your pockets.”

  “In my pockets?”

  “Right. This thing is surprisingly benign looking, but we’ve already had one accident, and I don’t want another.”

  On a table was a ring the size of a dinner plate. It was supported by three legs and looked like something you might use to support a pot above a camping stove. McGraw threw a switch on one of the legs and looked at Jake. “Have you got any money?”

  Jake dug into his pocket. “Never enough funding for science, huh?” He pulled out a handful of change.

  McGraw selected a penny and said, “Put your hand back in your pocket and watch this …” He held it five inches above the ring and dropped it. The penny vanished when it entered the ring.

  Jake whistled and bent over to look underneath the ring. “Just gone, huh?”

  “Totally gone. Anything you drop into it disappears. We call it the quantum garbage can. Japan is the lead country on this, by the way.”

  “Converted to energy?” Jake looked down through the hole, but there was nothing to indicate it was anything other than an empty ring.

  “Apparently not. We’ve thrown lots of stuff into it, and it hasn’t gotten hot or changed in any way.”

  “What was the accident?”

  “Remember Ron Kane?” McGraw asked.

  “Of course. The guy we om-rayed yesterday.”

  “He was working on this, goofed around and lost the pinky and ring finger on his right hand.”

  Jake winced. “Ouch.”

  McGraw nodded. “Exactly. It was a bloody mess. Poor guy. So, could this be used as a weapon? Not really, unless you threw it at someone.”

  “Or put it on the nose of a missile, I guess.”

  McGraw switched off the device and waggled his hand. “Maybe.”

  They walked over to a metal table isolated from everything else in the room. “Now this,” said McGraw, “is some kind of engineering tool, but it could probably be used as a weapon.”

  He picked up what looked like an ordinary hair dryer. “This is a heat gun. The guys call it the great-balls-of-fire heat gun. You point it at something and the thing heats up. We can’t get it to act on anything that’s more than twenty feet away.”

  Jake frowned. “That doesn’t really sound revolutionary to me, Doc.”

  McGraw held up one finger. “Ah, but whatever you point it at heats up and continues to do so. With a normal heat gun, the material will heat up and soon come to an equilibrium. With this gun, the temperature of the target just continues to increase.”

  “Another violation of conservation of energy, huh?”

  “Definitely. Unless we’re missing something, this alone could solve the world’s energy problems. Right now, though, we’re focused on creating weapons. We’re working on modifying it to work at greater distances.”

  Jake crossed his arms. “I thought we couldn’t make modifications.”

  “So far, you’re right. The 3D printer, if it detects something wrong, will crush and destroy whatever it’s making. There must be something analogous to a checksum involved. So, every time we’ve tried to modify something the printer says ‘No, sorry, doesn’t meet quality control—crunch.’ The twins are working on a way to circumvent this. They are on their way to Edwards Air Force base right now. The base has a center for 3D printer applications for weapons production.”

  Jake looked at his watch. “Whoa, I’ve got to get going.”

  “Hot date?”

  “No, no, I’m just going to have dinner with Charli and go over the results of our simulation today.” Jake patted Seth on the back. “Nice work here, and thanks for the tour.”

  “Good luck, Jake.” McGraw win
ked.

  Jake shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  September 22, 2018

  “This is your car? You weren’t driving this the other day.” Jake looked over Charli’s Tesla as she unlocked it. The car was white and showroom clean. He opened his door, got in, and ran his hands over the leather seats. Does new car smell get any stronger than this?

  Charli adjusted the rearview mirror. “It’s what all the obsessive compulsives are driving these days.”

  “I didn’t figure you for a high-end-car type.”

  “Well, it was between this and a Geo Metro.” Charli smiled at him, then looked over the seat and backed out of the parking space.

  “How far away do you live—when you’re not living in the White House Big Brother show?”

  “About twenty minutes, if there’s no traffic.”

  Jake looked at her.

  She frowned and turned to him. “What?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Traffic?”

  “Oh, yeah, right. Traffic no longer an issue.”

  “Mind if we take a little detour?” Jake pulled a piece of scrap paper out of his pocket.

  “If it doesn’t take too long. What is it?” She leaned over and angled her head to read what was on the paper.

  “Something I want to check out. You’ll find it interesting.” Jake entered an address into the car’s GPS system.

  Soon they were gliding silently along a country road. Jake said, “Where did you learn to drive?”

  She turned to him. “What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong with my driving.”

  “No, not if you’re seventy-eight. We haven’t even come close to the speed limit. Wait, there it is.” Jake pointed to a large white tent set up in a field. The tent was surrounded by hundreds of cars. A large sign propped up on a fence said “Welcome Fellow Cronkites” and had a photo of Walter Cronkite standing in front of the sphere.

  “Oh no, I’ve heard about this.”

  “I guess Cronkite-ite was too clumsy. Let’s take a look,” Jake said.

  “Ah, I’d rather not.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Fanatics scare me. They believe things that aren’t true yet they influence public policy.”