by Terry Schott
“Yeah. I don’t know your name, though.”
“Right. That’s right.” She leaned in and the smell of her perfume made Curtis feel light-headed. Her voice softened. “Make it out to Ariel.”
11
May, 2016
Luke did not bother to look at the bank of monitors as a chirp announced someone standing at the front entrance. His eyes remained trained on the large monitor, flitting back and forth between the health of two party members in front of his vision as they attacked a large monster. Colours flashed and sparkled on the screen, indicating attacks from his teammates and the monster. His index and middle fingers clicked the mouse in various combinations like a musician playing an intricate song on their instrument.
“I got it.”
“Thanks, Sandy.”
“Women’s work, anyway.” Pete spoke from the chair to Luke’s right.
Sandy laughed. “It should be a task for the worst gamer in the room at any given moment.”
“I like that idea.” Luke’s left hand moved from the directional keys and tapped F1, then F6 on his keyboard before moving back to hover over A and S. “Peter is actually contributing for a change. Can’t afford to lose him.”
“Hey—”
“I’m serious, man. I think the minor amount of damage you’re managing to inflict is actually helping.”
Sandy laughed. “Be right back.”
“Mashing buttons,” Pete mumbled. “We will see who mashed the buttons when we do a damage report after the fight. I bet I’m ranked highest.”
Minutes passed as the health bar over the head of the large monster on the screen continued to dwindle.
“Uh, boss?”
“Sandy?” Luke had not heard her enter the room but that wasn’t a surprise. He was focused on the fight.
“We got company.”
“Okay.” His eyes did not waver from the screen.
“They want to talk to you.”
“Then they came to the right place.”
“Mr. Norseman.” A man’s voice spoke.
“Quiet.” Luke shook his head.
“I beg your pardon?”
“No need for begging.” Luke frowned and began tapping the middle button of his mouse. On the screen, his character waved its arms and moved out of a green mist. “Damn it, Ken, he just threw a pool of acid under me. Pete, pop your cool downs and let’s finish this thing off. Sandy.”
“Take them to your office.”
“Take them to my office.”
***
Luke smiled as he entered his office. Two men dressed in dark blue suits sat on the leather couch, trying their best to remain straight-backed but finding it difficult on the plush, deep cushions.
“Morning, Gentlemen. Sorry about my less than cheerful greeting in the other room. Sandy shouldn’t have brought you in there.”
The older of the two men stood. “That’s fine, Mr. Norseman.”
“Luke.”
“As you wish. My name is Victor.”
“Got a last name, Victor?”
“I do.”
Luke waited for a moment, then grinned. “Fine.” He looked at the second man. “How ‘bout you, sport?”
“My colleague will remain anonymous,” Victor said.
“Really?” Luke frowned and leaned back against his desk. “Then I guess neither of you are here on official business with any sort of government agency because that would require showing me your identification.”
Victor continued to stand with his hands at his sides.
“Fine.” Luke straightened and headed for the door. “Sandy will show you out. Have a good day.” He walked past Victor and grabbed the door handle.
“What do you know about ‘the Harbinger’?”
Luke let go of the door handle and turned. “Who?”
Victor did not repeat himself. Instead he watched Luke, his expression unreadable.
“The Harbinger.” The younger man stood and adjusted his suit jacket.
Luke frowned at the second man before turning back to Victor. “Don’t know what that is.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Victor said.
Luke shrugged. “I don’t watch the news.”
The younger man squinted. “Why not?”
“Because there’s nothing worth watching. Fear, hate, anger, I’m a positive guy who spends most of my time playing games and entertaining people. The last thing I need to do in my spare time is listen to how bad things are.” He smiled. “Especially when my life is good.”
The men exchanged glances. Victor nodded and Luke moved to one side as the younger man slid past him and left the room.
“I haven’t given permission to search my building.”
“He’s leaving.”
“Good. Are you joining him?”
Victor nodded. “In a minute.”
“Hanging back to whisper a cryptic message in my ear before you go?” Luke’s eyes widened as he leaned close to Victor. “I don’t watch the news, but I do watch TV and movies.”
“And you play games.” Victor reached into his jacket and withdrew a card. “We believe you, Mr. Norseman.”
“I don’t care.”
“I know.” Victor waited until Luke took the card. “The Harbinger is going to be a problem, and it won’t be long until he or she tries to make contact with you.”
“Why do you say that?”
Victor gave a tight smile. “I know about you, Luke.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Tons of old guys like you subscribe to my channels. It was your generation that started video games, after all.”
“I’m not talking about your involvement in the gaming world.”
“I’m not following you.”
Victor paused, then adjusted his tie. “Of course you are.” He brushed past Luke and opened the door. “Be seeing you.”
Luke waited until Victor left, then went to his desk and plopped down into the chair. There was a knock at the door before it opened and Sandy peeked in. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.”
She smiled. “Good. New boss fight coming up in a couple minutes. I played your toon for you while they cleared the area, but I don’t think I can heal them during the big fight.”
“Okay.” He stood. “Hey, you heard of someone called ‘the Harbinger’?”
“Doesn’t ring a bell, why?”
Luke shook his head. “Put the word out. If anyone knows anything I want to hear about it ASAP.”
“Sure thing.”
12
Gavin smiled as he saw the e-mail from Chris in his inbox.
Hiya Gavin,
Hope you had a great weekend. It was pretty quiet here. I watched a great movie and thought about you and our recent conversations. It dealt with how the government is denying the existence and their knowledge of extraterrestrials despite overwhelming video footage and news coverage around the world.
What do you think about that? A stupid conspiracy theory, or do you believe little green men have been visiting us for years and the government is hiding it?
Chris
Gavin hit Reply.
Hey Chris,
My weekend was good too, thanks for asking. I went and saw my newest granddaughter. She’s an adorable little creature. Pretty as her mother.
I am certain that aliens exist and that the government knows about it. Of course, I don’t have proof, but I’ve read and seen enough to be convinced of two things:
1. There must be other life out there in the universe that has discovered us by now.
2. The government has covered up much tamer knowledge than that, so it stands to reason that they know about it and are hiding it from the rest of us.
What do you think about the Harbinger? Sounds like he is using the book Sticks and Stones as his instruction manual for causing mischief, doesn’t it? I wonder if he or she is the actual author of that book. I can’t believe the author hasn’t stepped forward to claim his money yet. It’s up
to eight million dollars and climbing.
It’s always a pleasure to hear from you. Write me back!
Gavin
He pressed Send and continued skimming through his e-mails.
He looked up with a smile as the door opened and Aldous entered. “Good morning.”
“Hey.” Aldous held up a tray with two coffee cups. He set it down on the corner of his desk and sat. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“That’s fine.” He closed his laptop and slipped it into his bag. “What’s new?”
Aldous opened the top middle drawer of his desk and removed an envelope. With a smile, he pushed it across the desk. “The money train keeps chugging.”
Gavin smiled and reached for the envelope, opening it and nodding. “Sticks and Stones was a good call.”
“I will never be able to thank you enough.”
“The credit is yours too. You took a chance on me and agreed to publish it. I’m glad that it paid off.”
“I hope you haven’t spent all your money.”
Gavin frowned. “You sound serious, all of a sudden.”
Aldous opened his planner and withdrew a single sheet of paper. “Read this.”
Gavin looked at the letterhead and frowned. “The government?”
“I think so.”
After he read the contents, Gavin sighed and placed the paper on the desk. “They are demanding that we stop printing Sticks and Stones.”
“And destroy all warehoused copies.”
“Can they make us do that?”
Aldous grabbed the letter and arched one eyebrow as he waved it in front of him.
“I mean enforce it.”
Aldous frowned. “I contacted my lawyer and we have to comply. Immediately.”
“So much for free speech.”
Aldous scowled. “You’re the one who taught me that such a thing has never existed.”
Gavin smiled. “The reminder stings. What about the digital copies?”
“What about them?”
“How do you get rid of them?”
“We don’t.”
Gavin squinted. “You suspected something like this would happen, which is why you did not approve digital release of the book to begin with.”
“Exactly. Fans pirated the print book and turned it digital, which means that it’s not our problem to fix.”
“Thank god.”
“That’s it then?”
“I guess so. In a few months, people will forget all about Sticks and Stones and move on to the next big thing. With a bit of time, it will be as if the story never existed.”
“Do you believe that?”
Aldous smirked. “Not even a bit.”
13
Hope this doesn’t sound too weird, but I have to ask:
I am going to be in your city for business next Wednesday. I thought it would be nice to grab a drink or cup of coffee and meet face-to-face.
I know. You must get messages like this and think, ‘Oh god, here’s a stalker.’ I promise you that I’m not and totally understand if you don’t feel comfortable meeting a fan.
Let me know.
Chris
Electronic fan mail sent to best-selling author, Ewan Sanders
Ewan sat in the bar and waited. Each time the door opened, he looked up, waiting to see if whoever entered looked at him. When they did not, he would look back down at the drink he was nursing, turning and tracing lines in the condensation along the outside of the glass.
The door opened and a young woman walked in. Before she could look his way, Ewan sighed and looked at his watch. Twenty minutes. That’s long enough to wait for a fan. Doesn’t look like this guy is going to show up. He lifted his glass to his lips, but noticed the young woman standing in front of him. He lowered the glass. “Can I help you?”
“You’re Ewan Sanders, right?”
“I am.”
“Great.” She smiled and touched her collarbone. “I’m Chris.”
He frowned. “You’re Chris?”
She laughed. “Yes.”
“Oh.” He forced himself to keep looking at her eyes even though his brain was telling him to scan the rest of her body. He smiled, mainly because he did maintain his self-control, and extended his hand. “Well, hey there. It’s good to finally meet you.”
“A handshake?” Chris walked to his side of the table and hugged him, pressing her body against his as she giggled. “I think that’s a better way to say hi, don’t you?”
Yes! He returned the embrace for a second, then looked up at her as she stepped back. “Well. Ahem. Yes, I suppose it is.” As she sat down, he stole a better look at her. Late twenties or early thirties—fashion magazines had made it tough for him to tell exactly—long, shiny, black hair. Her smile made her blue eyes appear to twinkle. She was beautiful. This girl is model material. Why would she be interested in meeting me?
She smiled as she sat.
A server took their drink orders and left. She reached out and patted Ewan’s arm. “I’m so excited to finally meet you. This is a huge thrill.”
“You’re too kind.”
“Kindness has nothing to do with it. I’ve loved your books since the first day I read The Call Sign.” She shrugged and shuddered, her grin widening. “That book changed my life.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. I was having a tough time when I stumbled upon it.” She leaned forward and began to tell her story.
Ewan leaned forward and listened.
***
“Sorry, guys,” the waiter said. “We close in ten minutes.”
“Huh?” Ewan frowned and looked at his watch. “Oh wow. We’ve been talking for two hours.”
Chris looked at her watch and nodded. “You mean I’ve been talking for two hours. I’m sorry, Ewan.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“I couldn’t shut up.” She finished her drink. “I get that way when I’m nervous. Talk too much.”
“I enjoyed listening to you.”
“Yeah, right.”
“No, I mean it.” He let his hand graze her arm. She smiled and dropped her glance toward the floor and he snatched his hand back.
“Oh, god. I’m sorry. That wasn’t appropriate.”
She looked up and her lips parted, her tongue touching her bottom lip before she answered. “I think it was.”
Ewan didn’t know how to respond. Could she really be interested in me that way? He looked around. They were the last two in the bar. The servers were placing chairs upside down on the tables with dull clunks.
He looked back at her and smiled. “Say, do you need a ride home?”
“I’m staying in a hotel.”
Damn it, that’s right. She’s from out of town, idiot. He furrowed his brows. “Oh yeah. Sorry, I forgot.”
She laughed. “That’s okay. I’d be happy for a ride.”
“Awesome.” He stood. “Ready when you are.”
Chris rose from her chair and looked at the bill on the table, opening her purse.
“I got it.” Ewan withdrew a handful of bills from his front pocket and dropped them onto the table.
“That’s kind of you. Thanks, Ewan.”
“No problem.”
Between the bar and the curb, they stopped.
“Is your car near?”
“Yeah.” Ewan pointed. “It’s this way.”
At the car, Ewan opened her door and held it while she got in. Then, he walked to his side and got in, reaching over his shoulder for his seatbelt. He started the car and turned the radio down. “Which hotel are you staying at?”
“I don’t want to go back to my hotel yet.”
He frowned. “Where do you want to go?”
“I thought we could sit in the car and talk a bit.”
Ewan reached for the ignition and turned off the engine. “Sounds good.”
“Your turn to talk.” She removed her seatbelt and half-turned toward him, tucking one foot under her leg.
>
“Okay.”
She smiled and waited for him to speak.
Say something. “I’m working on a new book.”
“That’s great.” She nodded. “Does it deal with conspiracies like we talk about in our e-mails?”
“It touches on a few.”
“Oh, hey.” She leaned toward him and rested one hand on his knee. “Have you read that book, Sticks and Stones?”
“Of course.”
“What did you think?”
He frowned. “It was good.”
Chris narrowed her eyes. “Only good? It was freaking brilliant.”
“You’re right.”
His eyes widened as she leaned forward and kissed him. She pulled him close and he did the same.
Long seconds passed.
She sat back and sighed.
Ewan gasped for air. “Oh my god.”
Her hand came up to touch his face. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Neither can I.”
She trailed one finger along the bare skin of his forearm. “I’m going to make love to the man who wrote Sticks and Stones.”
He paused for a moment, then shook his head. “What?”
“It’s okay. Your secret is safe with me.”
“But—” He frowned. “I didn’t write Sticks and Stones.”
“Of course you did. The writing is so similar. I get it. You don’t want anyone to know. I won’t tell, you won’t tell about this.” She reached for him but he jerked his arm away.
“You’ve made a mistake.”
Her smile faded. “What do you mean?”
“I didn’t write that book.”
“Are you sure?” Her grin returned and she licked her lips.
“In order to spend a night with you, trust me, I’d admit it if I had.”
Chris turned to look out the windshield. “Well, damn.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She rubbed her face and let it fall to her lap. “I thought for sure it was you.”
“I wish it were. You’re a beautiful woman, Chris. Is there any way you would still like to come back to my—”
“Ariel.”
“Pardon?”
“My name isn’t Chris. It’s Ariel.”
“Ariel?” He frowned for a beat, then shook his head. “Well, maybe you would still like to come back to my place and spend the night. You’re still a fan of my other books, right?”