"Did Kylee tell you...?"
"Yes," she said. "God has sent you to us. God has sent His angel to save us!"
Jamie wanted to squirm out of Grandma Mayes' grip, but was afraid of hurting the elderly lady. "I'm no angel, Madeleine. Kylee explained about what happened to our world...didn't she?" Her daughter was nodding emphatically.
"Oh, yes. But 'God works in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform,' as the hymn goes."
"Sorry, Madeleine, but I'm just a person. Where I came from a lot of people possess unusual powers."
"But you were the one who came." The older woman's eyes shone with a religious fervor that would not denied. "The one who will save us from the demons who menace us from above as an instrument of God's will."
"You mean the aliens?" Kevin asked, sounding more curious than skeptical.
"Call them what you will," said Grandma Mayes. "They are clearly demons."
"Aliens?" Thomas Mayes was shaking his head.
Jamie sighed. "It would take a while to explain."
Madeleine patted her arm. "Why don't we all go inside and have some coffee and fresh banana bread and you can tell us all about your mission here my dear."
An hour later, Jamie and Kylee were driving Kevin home. Karen Clarkson had called, as solicitous about her son's whereabouts and welfare as she had been in her world, mercifully cutting their conversation short. Madeleine Mayes had remained unfazed by Jamie's account, clinging to her belief that Jamie had arrived to serve a divine purpose.
A glutton for punishment, Jamie had volunteered to take Kevin home because she thought she might talk to his mom. Karen had been an integral, perhaps indispensable, part of the DARE mission – her telepathy had been invaluable in ferreting out the truth from people at times. And no doubt Kevin would tell her what he'd witnessed, which would inspire her to make some calls demanding explanations Jamie thought she might as well try to pre-empt.
Karen Clarkson was the same slim, dark-haired attractive woman with a professorial and somewhat uptight air that Jamie remembered. She was wearing her hair longer, currently tied in a ponytail as they found her in jeans shorts and a work-shirt tied off around her waist.
"It's nice to meet you," she said, extending her hand formally to Jamie when they climbed out of her exotically powered van. "I never really knew your sister. Your name is Jamie as well?"
"She's not her sister," Kevin stated matter-of-factly. "She another variant of Jamie Shepherd from an alternate universe who possesses superpowers."
Karen paused in shaking Jamie's hand, smiling awkwardly as she shot her son a startled look of disbelief. "I should be careful, then. She might crush my hand."
Kylee giggled.
"I've become fairly good at regulating my strength," said Jamie.
"You'll have to excuse my son. He reads too much science fiction. Though this has to be the first time I've ever heard him make something up. He's usually painfully truthful."
"He's being truthful now, Mrs. Clarkson," said Kylee.
Karen's already awkward smile wilted into an awkward frown. She stared at Jamie, cocking her head, waiting for the inevitable disclaimer.
"We watched her lift a roof onto a building with her mind," said Kevin.
"Ahhh," Karen murmured, squinting from her son and Kylee to Jamie. "If this is a joke, I'm afraid I'm not understanding it."
"Do you have an open mind?" Jamie asked. "Open to the possibility of alternate worlds – that telekinetics or other unusual powers might exist?"
"Not really – "
Jamie and Karen rose as one to the roof of her second-story house. Not fast, but not slow, either. Karen twisted around, crying out. Jamie kept her from falling off the roof with a gentle telekinetic thought. Karen stood, frozen, her arms rigidly extended as if clinging to invisible handles. A breeze kicked up her long hair, swirling it around her shocked face.
With a small motion of her left arm, Jamie propelled her decrepit van high into the air in front of the house. Karen choked on her next breath.
"I'm sorry to shock you," said Jamie. "But I think it's better to get that out of the way early. You wouldn't believe anything I said otherwise."
They floated down from the rooftop, landing by the front door. Karen latched onto a porch beam. After a moment, she shoved hair from her eyes with quivering fingers, her face as white as the window frames behind her as she stared at Jamie.
"My mom's so awesome," laughed Kylee. Even Kevin wore a small, satisfied smile.
"Do you have any wine?" Jamie asked Karen. "Maybe you might want to pour yourself a glass or two?"
It took Karen Clarkson several sips of wine before she was relaxed and focused enough to listen calmly to Jamie's story and begin asking the right questions. While they talked in the kitchen, Kylee and Kevin played a game of chess in the living room. Kevin had been reluctant, but Kylee had kept challenging him – "You're not afraid of losing to a girl, are you?" – and Kevin had eventually relented.
At the kitchen table, Karen gazed out the rear sliding glass door on the fading day. Her lawn, freshly cut, stretched fifty or sixty meters to a cluster of evergreen trees. A bright green rider mower perched between the lawn and a row of rose bushes.
"You say I developed telepathic abilities after being exposed to this...alien virus?" Karen smiled in disbelief. "I can't even imagine what I could accomplish in psychological research with such an ability."
"You hadn't pursued that yet in my world," said Jamie. "But maybe you could here."
"So you're saying...that I – we – are already exposed to this synthetic virus? That we might actually develop exceptional abilities? I might really become telepathic?"
"That's what I'm hoping for, but I'm becoming less certain by the minute. If it is going to happen the changes are occurring much slower than it did on my world."
"To hear people's thoughts..." Karen shook her head. "It could be a great therapeutic tool, but it could also be incredibly stressful. How did I cope with that in your world?"
"It was stressful, but luckily for you that ability dropped off over distance until cutting out for people twenty or thirty feet away."
Karen sipped her wine, continuing her pensive study of the backyard. Jamie tried, as usual, to put herself in Karen and the others' places, and though she wanted to believe she would've responded with perfect, rational open-mindedness, she wasn't sure how well she'd do in their position.
"If I'm understanding you correctly," Karen murmured, "your sole evidence of an alien threat here is Brian Loving and the people in his cult who've allegedly been disappearing? Because he was one of the aliens' agents on your world in making some people disappear?"
"Right. That's my only evidence."
"He was arrested and in custody for a week or two, according to the news. There were a few stories about people disappearing, but then the DHS and FBI said that was due to people under Loving's influence choosing to illegally go off the identity grid. That was several weeks ago. Nothing much on the news since."
"I'd like to find a way of approaching him, sounding him out, without giving myself away. So far, I haven't figured out how to do that."
"What if you learn he's not working with your aliens? What if there is no alien threat here and he's really just a leader of a rebel group of anti-chippers?"
"Then..." Jamie abruptly realized she hadn't thought past that possibility. "I guess I'd just..." She shrugged. "Make a life here?"
"You don't sound so sure."
"I'm not sure about a lot these days. But Kylee's here, so..." Jamie nodded in the direction of her daughter and Kevin, both hunched over the chessboard in the adjoining living room. "And Dennis. Though he's involved with someone else."
"I heard that. Just as I heard about you – the you here – dying in that awful truck collision. Not that I knew you or your family personally at that point, but it's a small town, as you know."
Jamie nodded, in that moment feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. She
was "the decider," as a former president had famously declared. But she didn't want to make all the decisions alone. She didn't want to be alone, period, which she suspected was powering much of her desire to make contact with her former friends.
"Who else is on your list of allies from your world?"
"Well, your neighbor, Thomas, was an ally after we got some things sorted out. He knows about me, by the way. And his brother, Terry Mayes, developed healing and mechanical repair powers after the nanovirus cured his disease. And your son..." Jamie noted Karen's sharp glance. "He was very helpful, too."
"About my son. You're saying this nanovirus cured his autism?"
"I would say so, yes."
Of everything Jamie had told her, that appeared to strike home the most. Karen rocked back in her chair, blinking as if trying to clear her vision or see something at an unimaginable distance.
"I would give anything for that to happen," she whispered. "Not that I don't love him or think he has value as he is. It's just...he was on course to becoming someone else. I know he was. And something interfered with that. Something unnatural."
"I understand."
Karen Clarkson lowered her wineglass with a shiver and turned to Jamie. "I guess we'll wait and see what happens...if we actually catch this virus of yours."
"Thank you, Karen."
In the meantime, Jamie thought, what to do next? And then she watched Kylee smile and shove a piece across the board with menacing intent, and she knew what she wanted more than anything – including saving this world – now: for the next day or two, at least, she wanted to make her daughter her world.
Chapter 4
Department of Homeland Security
National Oversight Fusion Center
Special Assessment Intelligence Division
Anomalous Activity Alert
Memos Received: Office of Infrastructure Protection, Aerial Surveillance Domain 12-A
Threat Level: 4
Response Priority: 6
4/23/2019
3:32 P.M. MDT
IN THE MASSIVE TSUNAMI of mundane information, sometimes something jumped out at you, thought Nathan Andrews, a Monitoring Agent with the Special Assessment Intelligence Division. The mind-numbing triviality of the mountains of data they collected wasn't discussed much by the people in his division. But when you spotted something out of the ordinary, something that might actually be something, you felt suddenly redeemed, as if what you were doing truly had purpose.
This was one of those times. Nathan wasn't about to rush to judgment, but watching the blue late-model 2018 Lexus GX levitate several thousand feet off the ground at a speed that reduced the Osprey drone's footage to a few seconds encouraged a rush of adrenaline if nothing else. And what a mind-blowing few seconds they were. When Nathan stopped the playback and zoomed in on the luxury car, the strangeness of what he was viewing on his 22-inch High-Def LCD computer screen stretched his imagination to the breaking point. The resolution fell short of providing clear images of their features, but definitely two people – a young, nice-looking couple from what he could make out – occupied the Lexus's front seats.
"Is that for real?" Adrianna asked, standing behind him.
"Looks to be."
"The SUV's traveling at 838 KPH?"
"Correct."
"Someone's fucking with you, Nate."
"It has an OIP certificate."
"It's a joke. You know as well as I do that a Lexus can't fly."
"My friend has a Lexus coup that comes pretty damn close. But you're right – completely unbelievable for an SUV."
Adrianna laughed. "But seriously, OIP would've sent those images straight to the Director if they thought there was any actual chance they were real."
Nathan leaned back and released a heavy sigh. Of course, it wasn't real. It couldn't be real. Someone had to be yanking his chain.
"You can't get the plates, can you?"
Nate shook his head. "Wrong angle. And the resolution isn't good enough anyway. Shit. I'm gonna call OIP and verify the memo."
"Knock yourself out."
Adrianna's curly dark locks flipped as she spun around and marched back to her station. Nate tore his eyes away from her bouncing derriere. More than a few men in the room took over his watch. Nate stuffed down his annoyance and picked up his phone.
He was routed through to a surveillance agent at the Office of Infrastructure Protection.
"I just wanted to confirm the authenticity of Feed 1445333," said Nate.
"Why do you doubt its authenticity?"
"Have you watched the video?"
"No. Loading it now."
Nathan stroked his goatee. This should be interesting. Thirty or forty seconds passed.
"That feed is no longer available," said the OIP agent.
Nate frowned. "But you have a record of sending it here."
"Yes. But now it's coming up as a feed error."
"Could this be a practical joke?"
"The Office of Infrastructure Protection isn't in the habit of making practical jokes."
"Can I send you what I'm seeing?"
"I'm not authorized to receive decertified footage."
"Can I describe to you what I'm seeing?" Nathan's voice had risen enough to draw stares from his nearby co-workers.
"As curious as I am, I must decline. Is there something else I can help you with, Agent Andrews?"
"No. Thanks."
Nate hung up. Across the room, Adrianna raised an eyebrow. Nathan frowned and shook his head. It was time to bring his immediate supervisor, SAID Director Malcolm Meriwether, into the loop. He was reaching for the phone when it buzzed. The Director's number appeared. Alarms dinged in Nathan's head. This could not be a coincidence.
"Agent Andrews," Director Meriwether greeted him when he picked up his phone. "Can I have a word with you in my office?"
"Yes, sir."
He received a chorus of curious looks on his way out of the Data Integration and Analysis room. He gave Adrianna a grim smile as he passed her station.
Director Meriwether was looking grim as well when Nate entered his office. Of course, the Director always looked grim, as if the fate of the civilized world were in constant doubt and it was up to him to preserve the balance. He motioned for Nate to sit, and regarded him across his desk for several moments before he spoke.
"You received an unusual drone video from OIP a short time ago," he said.
"Yes, sir. Unlike anything I've ever seen before."
"What's your evaluation of that video?"
"I was just told by OIP that the video was a mistake."
"Yes, but what was your evaluation up to that point?"
"I couldn't make sense of it, sir. It appeared to be a young couple flying a Lexus SUV at several hundred miles per hour about a mile up." Nathan paused, trying to make sense of this meeting. "Have you seen the video, sir?"
"I have."
"What did you make of it?"
Director Meriwether stared at the steel paperweight bearing the SAID logo he was turning in his right hand. "I was surprised to learn that Toyota had added a flight-capable vehicle to its Lexus stable."
After a brief hesitation, Nathan released a cautious laugh. He'd had next to no contact with the Director during his five years with SAID, but his reputation of aloofness and a desert-dry humor preceded him.
"Last year you applied for an agent position in Field Operations. Is that something you remain interested in?"
"Very much so, Director Meriwether."
"Good. I am going to authorize that transfer, effective immediately."
"Thank you, sir." Nate resisted the urge to give himself a mental high-five because he had the feeling there was a catch. "If you don't mind me asking...does this have anything to do with the Lexus video?"
"When I learned that you'd received it, you might say it placed you under my radar. Then I noted you'd requested a transfer to FO."
"The video was disavowed a few minutes aft
er I received it." Nate started to frown as he worked through the likely explanations. "I wasn't supposed to receive it, was I?"
"I confess that it showing up on your computer was a bureaucratic snafu. A case of the right hand not knowing what the left is doing, I'm afraid."
Nathan chose not to comment. These were deep waters for a mid-level SAID agent.
"But our snafu turns out to be your opportunity," Director Meriwether continued. "Your first field assignment will be to help assemble a Total Information Package on one of the individuals we identified in the flying car."
"May I ask how the person was identified, sir? The video never had the right angle on the plates, and weren't the faces too fuzzy for facial recognition?"
"There's another video - classified." The Director's flat voice preempted any further questions on that subject. "One of the individuals in question works at the Environmental Protection Agency, Denver office. His name is Zachary Walters."
"You weren't able to identify the woman?"
"No. The car was registered to Walters, and his face is a match. We're confident the woman will turn up when a TIP is assembled on Mr. Walters." Director Meriwether folded his hands and studied Nathan with cool eyes. Nathan barely resisted squirming. "Your assignment is being delivered to your computer in your new cubicle on the third floor as we speak. You'll be working under one of our most experienced field agents, Jack Brickman. He'll fill you in on the particulars of a TIP operation."
"Okay. Thank you for this opportunity, sir. I, uh, was just wondering..."
"Yes?"
Nathan was afraid of looking a gift horse in the mouth, but still... "Why you chose me for this assignment?"
"I noticed you have a science communication degree. That could prove useful if personal contact comes into play. Mr. Walters is an environmental biologist. But Jack will make that call."
"Yes, sir." Nate stood up. "Thank you again for giving me this chance."
"You're welcome. And Agent Andrews?" The Director's pale grey eyes drilled into him. "Perhaps needless to say, but this operation carries a 'top secret, need to know only' classification. You may not discuss it with anyone who is not officially part of the operation."
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