Conspiracy Unleashed

by L. Danvers

  "It is."

  "Do I need to bring anything?"

  "Nope," Flynn said as he rubbed his eyes and yawned.

  The two of them got a hovercab. They made a quick stop at Flynn's place so he could change clothes. He handed her a toasted bagel smeared with cream cheese on their way out the door.

  “What’s that?” she asked, gesturing toward the items tucked under his arm.

  He pulled out three books. Real books. “A little light reading.”

  "Can you please tell me where we're going?" Cal asked as they hurried down the steps of his building.

  "We’re going next door to the bank.”

  "Why?"

  "To use their telepad."

  He held the glass door open for her as they exited his apartment. The distinct smell of metal filled the air as hovercars zoomed overhead. Cal’s bagel was getting cold thanks to the harsh temperature outside. She scarfed it down as fast as she could.

  The two of them entered the bank. A crowd had already formed inside. People lined up in front of the tellers, like mice twisting through a maze for a nibble of cheese. Flynn took Cal's hand and dragged her to the far right corner of the lobby where the telepad was located.

  He waited while a white-haired couple passed by. When the area around them was clear, he took the slip of paper from her and entered the coordinates into the hovering keypad. She hadn’t noticed before that the coordinates contained five additional digits. Cal asked if he knew why.

  “To scramble the machine’s memory. To make sure no one can trace our destination.”

  “So no one can follow us?”

  He nodded while he helped Cal up onto the telepad base. "You ready?" He smiled.

  Before she could answer, the telepad beeped for the third time, and her veins turned to ice.

  They arrived in a shadowy hallway. Cal was shivering. Flynn sneezed as he helped her off the telepad base. She scrunched her nose at him.

  “What?” he said. “I don’t complain about you always whining about being cold. I can’t help that teleporting makes me sneeze.”

  His sneezing drove her crazy. The noise was like nails on a chalkboard, though she had no idea what that meant. She’d never seen a chalkboard, let alone heard nails scratching against one. But she understood it to be an annoying sound.

  "Before our meeting, you're going to have to fill out some forms," he explained. Cal gave him a perplexed look. "Non-disclosure agreements, that kind of thing."

  "What have you gotten me into?"

  "Trust me," he said. He stopped, turned to face her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "I've been trying to get you on this project for a while. And after what happened to Quinn, I think it’ll be a good distraction."

  "Okay."

  "Follow me."

  He took her down a long stretch of hallway. Cal was mystified as to their location. They were inside a house. It was over the top and must have cost a fortune. It had shiny hardwood floors, and there was chair railing along the halls. The walls were adorned with handmade paintings. Not holographic images. Real art. There was thick crown molding, and even the light fixtures cost more than Cal’s whole apartment.

  She and Flynn passed through a corridor and went into a meeting room. The same woman from the night before sat at the head of the oak table. She wore a pressed suit and had an official air about her. Flynn and Cal sat across from her.

  The woman introduced herself as Agent Taylor, no first name was given, and she explained to Cal that she was being recruited for a mission of the utmost importance. Cal scratched her neck, unsure of what to make of this news, but the woman didn’t catch on to the uncertainty Cal felt sure she was exuding.

  "You can understand," Agent Taylor explained, "that since this is a matter of national—hell, international security, before we can proceed we need to make it clear to you that what you are about to learn cannot leave this facility. We expect your full cooperation in this matter. We've already run an extensive background check on you and believe you to be the perfect candidate to join our cause."

  Cal bit her fingernail while she skimmed through the fine print on the FlexTab Agent Taylor placed in front of her. She looked to Flynn for reassurance. He nodded, so she signed and initialed each blank.

  When she finished, Agent Taylor stood and gave Cal a firm handshake. "Vice President Pierce will see you now."

  Cal's eyes darted to Flynn. He opened the door in the rear of the meeting room and led her inside a private office. Teddy Pierce was seated on the plush couch. "Ah, Ms. Cameron. I've been expecting you." He motioned for Cal and Flynn to sit. There were two chairs with curved legs and padded feet on the other side of the coffee table.

  Cal made herself comfortable and leaned in closer to the vice president. "Can someone please explain to me what's going on?"

  "Your friend Flynn here has told us much about you. And when I watched you at the press briefing last month, I knew you would make a great addition to our team."

  "Your team? I'm sorry, I'm not following."

  “Let me back up. You see, Ms. Cameron, there are two NASAs. The one the public—and most of NASA’s employees—know about. And then there’s the other one, the one in which real work is done.” She waited for him to crack a smile, but his expression remained stoic. “I’m talking about spaceships. Faster-than-light travel. Exploring planets outside our galaxy.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Cal said. It had to be a joke. She waited for Flynn to tell her it was an elaborate ruse, but he was busy hanging on Pierce’s every word.

  “I don’t kid, Ms. Cameron. The team I’m referring to is one the president asked me to put together,” the vice president continued, rubbing the whiskers on his upper lip with his fingers as he spoke. She noticed the deep ridges of his nails, which were well manicured. It must be important for a man of his position to keep up appearances. “NASA—the real NASA, mind you—suspects intelligent alien life exists in another galaxy. So the president has requested we put together a top-secret team of explorers, or operatives, if you will, to venture out to the Quintex Galaxy and report its findings.”

  “But why do you need me? I’m a reporter. I’m sure you can find an astronaut to do this.”

  “Not an option, I’m afraid. Two NASAs, remember?”

  “But this covert branch has always existed, hasn’t it? So I’m sure they’ve put together other teams before. What about them?”

  Vice President Pierce swallowed a lump in his throat. Cal knew what that meant. They were dead. She, Flynn and the other members of this team he was assembling were meant to replace them. “We need a communications specialist,” he said, breaking the silence. “And you, Ms. Cameron, have the skills necessary for the task. We’ll train you, of course. There is much to learn. And you will be paid handsomely, I assure you.”

  She felt the weight of his eyes resting on hers, begging for a response.

  “How long do I have to think it over?”

  Pierce gave his wristband a glance. “How does five minutes sound?”

  “Five minutes?”

  “You’re either in or you’re out. You decide. Training begins tomorrow.”

  The room’s textured wallpaper felt like it was closing in on her. She shut her eyes tight, hoping to make the sensation stop. Her chest rose and fell at an alarming rate. Her lungs were desperate for air. Flynn reached out to her from his chair, but she held up her hand to stop him. She shifted her attention to Pierce while she tried to calm her nerves. “Can Flynn and I have a minute alone?”

  “Of course.” He stood, gave a quick bow of his head, and left, shutting the door behind him.

  Once he was gone, she leaned in over the armrest, speaking to Flynn in a hushed tone for fear of Pierce or Agent Taylor hearing her from the next room. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. How did you get tangled up in this operation? And how did I end up being dragged into this with you? I didn’t ask for this.”<
br />
  “Agent Taylor recruited me a while ago. Pierce had gotten wind of a project I was working on for the government and liked what he saw. He said I reminded him of a younger version of himself. And as for you, I don’t know. Your name came up, and we got to talking about your job, and he was intrigued, so I suggested they reach out to you.”

  “But why are you doing this? You heard him. He may not have said it outright, but he implied that a previous crew died. They died, Flynn. I lost my sister. I can’t lose you, too.”

  “You won’t. And anyway, when the Vice President of the United States asks you to do something, you do it. Come on, Cal. Please.”

  “How can I? My parents lost their oldest daughter. Her funeral was yesterday. How could I leave them?”

  He pressed his finger to his lips. “What would Quinn want you to do?”

  His words cut her like a knife. If he had said anything else in that moment, anything at all, she would have left without giving it a second thought. But he knew her better than anyone, and he had said the one thing that would make her stay.

  “She’d want me to go.”

  The brass handle squeaked as it turned, and the door swung open, revealing the vice president standing in the threshold. “Have you made your choice?”

  Cal rose from her seat. She gave Flynn an uneasy glance before looking at Pierce.

  “I’m in.”

  The vice president’s lips curved up into a smile that wrinkled his entire face. “I knew I could count on you to make the right decision. Welcome to the Stellix Mission, Ms. Cameron.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Cal was given twenty-four hours to tie up loose ends before she was to report to the vice president’s secret estate. There was no question as to where her first stop would be. She had to pay a visit to her parents’ place.

  There was an odd sense of normalcy when she arrived. Her mother was doing the dishes, and her father was nose-deep in a newspaper, his fingers covered in a thick layer of ink. That was the peculiar thing about death. No matter how loved a person who died was, those left in the world must, at some point, go on living.

  Cal greeted her parents, and after they exchanged pleasantries, she asked them to sit down with her in the living room so they could chat. Cal took a seat on the worn sofa and looked around the room. It felt empty now that the Christmas decorations had been boxed up and put away. There was a new framed picture of Quinn that sat alone on the wooden mantel above the fireplace. Cal took a deep breath while she waited for her mom and dad to get situated. She wondered how long it'd be before she saw them again.

  “What is it?” Janet asked.

  “I don't know how to say this,” Cal began, “so I'm just going to say it. I'm going to be leaving for a while.”

  Her father scratched behind his ear. “Where are you going?”

  “On a special assignment,” Cal lied. As far as Janet and Howard knew, she was still employed by Channel 12. “For work, I mean. I'm not allowed to say where, but it's for a big story. The only problem is that I will be gone for some time. More like a long time. I’m not sure whether I’ll be able to check in with you.”

  There was a heaviness in the room. Her parents let the news of her leaving sink in. Her mother folded her hands in her lap. Her eyes glazed over as she stared at her interlocked fingers. Her father watched Janet. He uncrossed his legs and leaned closer to Cal. “We’ll miss you, of course, but I think you should go. God’s reminded us that life is short, and this sounds like a great opportunity for you to further your career.”

  “Howard,” Cal’s mom pleaded.

  “Janet, I don't want to see her go any more than you do, but we can’t let our emotions get in the way of our daughter living her life.”

  “But to leave right after Quinn...” Her voice cracked.

  “She can't pass this up because we’ll miss her.”

  Her mom sighed. She smoothed a wrinkle in her yellow floral sundress, unable to look Cal in the eye. It was hard for her mother to see her only remaining child leave so soon after the other was gone. Janet pleaded with Cal to at least stay for lunch, and she agreed.

  Together, they made one of Cal’s favorite meals. Fried chicken, coleslaw and macaroni and cheese. For the first time since Quinn’s death, they laughed together as they dredged the chicken and splattered themselves with flour. The scent of the spicy, seasoned dredge mixture and the tangy vinegar for the coleslaw was enough to make Cal's mouth water. She was going to miss these home-cooked meals, though she figured she would be much healthier without these types of indulgences.

  She spent the remainder of her day in her tiny apartment, gathering a few essentials and tidying up the place. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d picked up, and she figured it would be nice to have a clean home to return to, if she returned. She took the printouts down from her wall, removing the evidence of her mad obsession. A part of her felt guilty for leaving her investigation behind. Those people who had vanished without a trace. She hoped that while she was gone someone else would pick up where she’d left off. She hoped that someone would find them.

  She debated whether to pack the Curly Shirley doll, but she decided against it. It’d look absurd for a grown woman to bring a doll with her to space. She thought of what her fellow crewmembers would say. They’d think she was nuts. So she placed Curly Shirley on the windowsill, imagining the doll would look up at the stars and watch her fly. Cal chuckled at what a ridiculousness thought it was.

  The sky faded into a midnight blue. Cal pressed her head against the window, marveling at the vastness of space, trying to pick out which direction the Quintex Galaxy was. She wondered what they’d find out there.

  She gripped her locket between her fingers. This is for you.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ba-boom. Ba-boom.

  Cal rested her clammy palm over her heart. It was getting ready to burst out of her chest. She was excited, nervous and terrified.

  She pulled her cherry trench-coat nice and snug around herself, trying to keep warm as she trudged through the layer of heavy snow that covered the city streets.

  She was met with a welcome gust of warm air upon entering the bank, which was empty aside from the few employees who braved the elements to get there. That made it easy for Cal to slip over to the telepad unnoticed. She reached in her pocket and took out the piece of paper Agent Taylor had given her the day before. She examined the new series of numbers. She glanced over both shoulders to make sure no one was looking and typed the digits into the floating keypad. She stepped aboard the telepad base, which hovered inches above the ground, listened for the three beeps and braced herself for the shock of cold. The blizzard had nothing on the biting chill of teleporting.

  She arrived at a base in the entryway to the vice president’s mansion. A great crystal chandelier hung overhead, catching the light of the snow through the transom window above the door and reflecting a colorful shimmering design along the rich hardwood floor. Cal stepped down off the base and started toward the grand living room. A figure wearing a gray long-sleeved shirt with black pants and military-style boots slipped out from behind the corner. It took her a second to realize it was Flynn. It was a departure from his usual quirky style.

  “You're early,” he said, his eyes wide with surprise.

  “So are you.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been here for an hour or so looking around. Care to check this place out? There’s time for me to give you a tour. The briefing’s not until 9:30.”

  “Sure.”

  She followed him through the living room, the furnishings of which cost more than she made in an entire year. She sighed in relief as they swept past the warmth coming from the marble-carved fireplace. The crackling of the flames was music to her ice-cold ears.

  There was something strange about this place, though. There were no personal items. No family photos or holograms, no trinkets from travels. It looked unlived in, like she was in a museum rather than a home.

&nb
sp; They continued into the hallway. Flynn lifted the frame of a painting, no larger than a book, of a girl twirling on a mountaintop. He pressed a button that was hidden behind it. A section of the wall slid open, revealing an elevator door that, until seconds ago, had blended seamlessly with the wall. Her brows drew together as she stood there, watching in amazement.

  Flynn stepped inside the elevator and waved for her to follow him. “Come on. What are you waiting for?”

  He took her up to the third floor and led her down the narrow hall. It was illuminated by a mid-sized window, through which a few rays of sunshine bounced off the falling snow. When they reached the last room on the right, he propped open the door and motioned for her to go on inside.

  “Wow.”

  She shouldn’t have been surprised at how ornate it was. She'd seen the entryway, living room and hidden elevator, and the estate did belong to a billionaire. Even so, to think she’d be sleeping in a room like this... It was surreal. Sure, as a kid she’d spent the night with a handful of friends whose parents were wealthy, but nothing like this. The room was home to a king-size four-poster bed, the top of which was draped with gold-trimmed maroon fabric and was drowning in pillows. Silk curtains hung from two towering windows. Cal lifted her chin, admiring the carved design on the rods themselves. Her eyes moved up to the medallion in the center of the ceiling, a hand-painted masterpiece depicting ivy and blossoms. A gold chandelier hung from the middle.

  She wasn’t aware her jaw was hanging open until Flynn said, “I know. It’s amazing.”

  She snapped herself out of the spell put on her by this magical room and removed her coat. Flynn took it from her and turned the handle of the closet door. It was filled with clothing identical to Flynn’s.

  “I assume I need to change.”

  Flynn took an outfit from the closet and handed it to her. “There’s a bathroom over there,” he said, pointing to the far corner of the room.

  She went inside and shut the door behind her. She marveled at how a bathroom could look so elegant. She undressed. Her clothes piled by her feet. She put on her new gear, grabbed the wadded up material, returned to the bedroom and tossed the bunch into the corner of the closet floor.