As Danica continues the Mayor backpedals, circling around the far side of his desk. “Is that right? That still doesn’t explain how you got in here.”
“I can open a portal to anywhere I’ve seen.” She strolls around the office, poking and prodding at his assortment of strange decorations. “The show gave me a visual aid to pinpoint an entry spot, so here I am.”
The Mayor waits for Danica to avert her eyes and he reaches down, slowly pulling open his top drawer.
“Go for it,” she says dryly, staring out his office window. “Your Magnum isn’t loaded anymore. I got bored waiting around for you, so I went through all your shit.”
The Mayor slams his drawer and stomps towards her. “Listen up,” he growls. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but it’s a dangerous one. You’ve got about thirty seconds before my security comes running through that door, so you might as well tell me what the hell you want before they beat your cute little ass half to death and toss you to the curb.”
She walks to the entrance of his office and presses a tiny red button on the wall. A heavy security door slides shut and several deadbolts latch into place with a metallic clank. “No, I think we have all the time in the world. Even if they knew I was here, I’m guessing it would take them quite a while to get through six inches of solid steel.”
“You can’t intimidate me,” the Mayor shouts defiantly. “I’m about to become the leader of the free world. When I take office your dad won’t just be dishonorably discharged from the military – he’ll be brought up on formal charges for sending you here.”
“That’s if you become President,” Danica replies with confidence.
“If?” The Mayor says through a condescending smirk. “The election is just a formality at this point, sweetheart. Ain’t nothing stopping me now.”
“Well, President Manning might have something to say about that.”
“I made a deal with your father,” The Mayor says bluntly.
“He made a better one,” she replies. “Both you and Maxwell Manning offered to give him all the resources that he needs to execute his plan, but the difference is that Manning is an honest guy.” Danica slowly trails her eyes from the bottom of the Mayor’s feet up to his reddening face. “You, on the other hand, happen to be a lying sack of shit.”
She doesn’t say the words. She doesn’t have to. The Mayor knows that he’s the only person standing in the way of Manning’s re-election, and without him in the race a second term is all but guaranteed. “You really think you can get away with this? No one goes back on a deal with me. You must be a crazier bitch than your old man if you believe that the two of you can pull this off. I’m untouchable.”
Danica’s eyes flood with blue energy and her pupils disappear into the crackling light. “Did I hear you correctly? Was that a negative, disparaging remark about me and my father?” Her words become increasingly eloquent with a hint of an accent; her tone suddenly has the air of royalty speaking down to a subject. “The last time someone spoke to me in that manner they were thrown out of an airlock. I watched his body thrash in the vacuum of space before he died. Eardrums bursting, the saliva in his mouth boiling until his tongue burned off...not a pleasant way to go, I understand.”
The Mayor is stunned by the physical transformation taking place before him – watching Danica’s eyes flare viciously as her anger swells. But he’s almost more disturbed by the sudden change in her demeanor, and the strange way that she’s speaking. This new, authoritative personality she’s channeling is far more intimidating than the young woman he was speaking to just seconds ago. It’s almost as if she’s been possessed. “If you k-kill me,” he says with a stammer, “it’ll be disastrous for you...and your kind.”
Danica bites back a smirk. “My kind? So now all of a sudden I’m the poster girl for super-powered Americans?”
The Mayor extends both of his palms in a gesture of surrender. “If I die at the hand of a super powered being it’ll become public knowledge. There’s no way around that. And every government in the world will be after you, and folks just like you. It won’t just be America this time either, it’ll be the entire New World Council. You’ll never be able to show your face anywhere again, and you’ll take down hundreds more with you.”
She tosses her head back and blurts out a boisterous laugh. Danica pretends to wipe a tear from her eye and she flashes a wide grin. “Oh, James...you’ve got to be shitting me. Really? This is the best you can come up with? Your life is on the line and you’re trying to appeal to my better nature?”
“More like your sense of self-preservation,” The Mayor adds, desperately trying to steady the tremble in his voice.
“Don’t let the blond hair and the short skirt fool you. I’m not an idiot. You own half the media outlets in this country, and you broadcast whatever the hell you want twenty-four-seven. If you really wanted to out SPBs you would have done it years ago, and so would The Council. We’ve been kept a secret from the public for a reason, and the cover-up will still be going on long after you’re gone.”
Danica stalks the Mayor, striding forward confidently as he retreats. His back hits the wall of his office and he freezes, clutching his chest with one hand while he hyperventilates.
“James,” she whispers, moving uncomfortably close to his face. “Just relax. I’m not actually going to kill you.” She strokes the side of his cheek with the back of her hand, like a mother soothing a frightened child. “But you are going to do exactly as I say. You’re going to sit down at your desk, write a letter by hand, and explain that you want some time alone. That the pressure of the election is getting to you. Then you’re going to leave on a long, long vacation.”
The Mayor complies, and scribbling hastily on his custom stationary. As he signs his name at the bottom of the document Danica yanks him to his feet by the collar and shoves him towards the center of his office. She steps back and plunges her hands into thin air, tearing open a wide, glowing portal the size of a door. She steps aside, raises her eyebrows and motions towards the opening, inviting him to walk through.
He stares back at her in disbelief. “There is no way I’m throwing myself into that. I thought you said you weren’t going to kill me—?”
“I’m not,” Danica says with a reassuring tone. “I told you, I’m just sending you on a retreat until the election is over.”
He stares back at her, motionless.
Danica retrieves her cell phone and quickly texts a message. A moment later the Mayor’s phone rings inside his jacket. She glances down at his pocket. “That’s probably for you.”
He reluctantly brings the device to his ear, maintaining eye contact with Danica as he accepts the call. “Hello?”
“James,” The General says in an unusually jovial tone. “It’s so great to hear from you. I understand that you’re going on a little vacation? Danica tells me that she’s chosen the perfect destination.”
The Mayor gazes into the white-hot opening that’s no more than an arm’s reach away. “It sure looks that way.”
“Before you leave I’d like to remind you of something you told me a while back. Of course I’m paraphrasing a little here, but you said something to the effect of being in charge of our relationship, and wanting me to know that you could hit a hole-in-one any time you wanted, and end the game. Do you remember that conversation?”
“Yes,” the Mayor mutters, transfixed by the swirling light of the portal.
“Well there’s just one last thing I want to say to you before you take your leave.”
“And what’s that?”
The General hesitates, savoring the moment. The pause allows the Mayor’s mind fill with every horror he could possibly be subjected to on the other side of the portal. “Fore.”
The Mayor pivots his head in time to feel the crushing impact of a nine iron colliding with his cheek bone. He hadn’t noticed Danica sliding the golf club from his bag while his attention was diverted.
Fa
lling back his vision blurs, and the white glow of the portal fades to a crystal blue sky. He’s not sure how long or how far he’s fallen, but his landing is cushioned by a soft surface.
It takes a few moments for the bitter cold to set in; the feeling one gets when their body sinks into a deep snow bank.
He staggers to his feet and stumbles forward, nauseous from the transition though the portal. He cups a hand over the bleeding gash on his face and trips in the knee-deep snow. A yelp cries out from beneath him; a helpless whimper from a small animal that he’s landed on as he fell.
It’s a bear cub. A polar bear, not much larger than a cat, that stares up at him and shrieks with displeasure. It’s an angry high-pitched howl as if he’s calling out for assistance; a surprisingly loud noise coming from such a small creature.
A deep panic sets in as The Mayor glances in every direction, surrounded by the passing glaciers in the North Atlantic. He pulls his thin golfing jacket around his body and shivers, terrified at the thought of freezing to death, alone in the tundra.
What he doesn’t realize is that when the cub’s mother returns, freezing will be the least of his concerns.
Chapter Six – Graphene
Western Australia | January 26, 2012 | 11:51 am, Western Standard Time
“Holy shit. And I thought Plan B was crazy.” Cole leans back into the sofa, staring at the rotating ceiling fan spinning above him. His mind reels after hearing the news, and he takes a moment to let the information sink in. The intentions of The General seem clear: build a new Large Hadron Collider, use it as a catalyst to help his daughter open a portal to the future, and retrieve the one object that would make him unstoppable – the Akashic compendium. What Cole doesn’t understand is how they’re supposed to walk into the dense jungles of South America, unarmed and unprepared, against what could very well be a small army. He scans the faces of everyone in the living room. Brodie, Paige, Jens...even Allison, seem to be waiting in collective anticipation of his response. Goto, on the other hand, looks like he already knows what Cole is going to say.
“If Dia is there we have no choice...we have to go.”
Jens tosses his empty beer can into a pile on the floor. “Dude, I know you enjoy these suicide missions, but this one seems a little more suicidal than usual.”
“It’ll just be recon,” Paige explains. “We need to see what kind of defense system they have around this new Collider. And Cole is right: if Dia is nearby we need to at least try and make contact with her. This is the first opportunity we’ve had since she left six months ago, and I don’t know when we’ll get another one.”
Brodie flips open his laptop and quickly raps the keyboard. A few seconds later he brings up a satellite view of the Collider’s position in Brazil, which is completely obscured by the jungle canopy. “The General chose a pretty clever spot to make this thing. I can’t see shit. You’ll have to land nearby and go in on foot to get a better look.” With the tap of a button he transfers his browser window to the large screen on the wall.
“We can land here,” Goto suggests, pointing to a clearing a few kilometers west of the target. “Then we move in and assess the threat. If The General is there we’ll return to the jet and destroy the area from a safe distance. We can eliminate him and the Collider with a single explosive.”
Allison folds her arms and squints at Goto. “But you’re calling the whole thing off if Dia is there, right? I mean, not that I care, but the plan isn’t to blow her up too…is it?”
“I’m required to stop time travel at all costs,” Goto replies sharply, “and to keep the Rift from tearing any further. Dia is one life. If she wants to return with us, that’s her prerogative. However, if she decides to align herself with The General then we’ll have no choice but to—”
“To what?” Cole shouts, leaping to his feet. “No choice but to what, Goto? Say it.”
Goto slowly rises and takes a step towards Cole. Standing just inches apart from each other their size difference becomes even more evident. The diminutive Japanese man stares up at the massive figure, showing no trace of intimidation. “Say what, precisely?”
“Say that if Dia gets in our way we need to kill her.”
“You are irretrievably stupid, aren’t you Mister Cole? Allow me to make something perfectly clear: there is only one way to travel through time, and that’s to harness the same power as a sun, or a black hole. When The General’s original Collider malfunctioned it tore open a rift in space that could have swallowed the galaxy had it grown much larger. If his new Collider is completed, and he succeeds in generating that much rampant power once again, it could mean the end of life as we know it. You want me to say it? Very well...” Goto takes another short step, moving threateningly close to Cole. “...if Dia Davenport tries to prevent me from killing The General, or from destroying the Collider, she’s fair game.”
“Wrong answer.” Cole throws a looping punch towards Goto, but it never reaches his target. His fist collides with an invisible wall of energy, slamming into it with such incredible force that it breaks each of his knuckles. He winces and stands back, holding his swollen hand as he glares at Goto. He can already feel the bones mending and moving back into place, but his anger is palpable.
“I had a cerebral dampener activated when I knew you’d be arriving. Can’t have you running amok in my home, now, can I?” Goto cocks his head to the side and smiles.
The gesture incenses Cole even further. He recalls the same technology being used in The Backyard during his initial meeting with Govinda; the sensors that detect aggression and prevent physical conflict. “Why don’t we step outside and finish this conversation?” Cole’s eyes flick towards the front door.
Goto sighs and takes his seat, crossing one leg over the other. “Perhaps later. In the meantime, I believe there are more pressing matters. You do recall I mentioned the apocalypse earlier?”
“We go in on foot,” Paige states, matter-of-factly. “We check things out and see if Dia is there. We don’t take any action until I at least get a chance to speak with her – agreed?”
Goto glances at Cole and then back to Paige. He nods in agreement as if it should go without saying, despite everything that has been said. “Of course, my dear, but just to clarify: this is not a rescue mission. If your sister listens to reason, then all is well; no harm done, and back to base for tea and biscuits. If not? Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, shall we?” And with that, he stands once more, adjusts his cufflinks, straightens his waistcoat, and smoothes down his trousers. “Let’s prepare to depart. I’ll see you behind the compound in precisely one hour.” And without another word Goto disappears down the corridor of the east wing.
“What about me?” Brodie says to no one in particular. “Goto didn’t even look at me when he was picking the team. I could totally be an asset.”
“Well if getting high on the way to Brazil was part of the strategy I’m sure he would have included you,” Allison says with a grating laugh. “I guess you and your collection of bongs will have to wait for the next mission. Who knows? With any luck we’ll be fighting a bad guy in Amsterdam sometime soon.”
“Whatever,” he grumbles as he packs up his laptop. “The Rio Carnivale is happening in Brazil this week and I’m going to miss that, too. He could have at least offered to drop me off there while you guys were on your mission.”
“Don’t worry, Brodie,” Allison chuckles, patting his head as she passes by. “If Goto swings by the party I’ll be sure to bring you back a feather headdress.”
***
As Cole, Paige and Goto make their way into the large clearing behind the compound, a bright light dances across their field of vision. The outline of a pure-white jet flashes and sparks, and finally blinks into view. With a twist of his watch Goto uncloaks the C-380, better known in the future as an Aithon cargo jet.
The long, sleek body is contoured like an Italian sports car extending towards a pair of short wings at the back, and three oversized
openings which appear to be nothing more than cosmetic enhancements; giant circular spoilers, each one larger than a two-car garage. According to Goto they’re far more than just a fashion statement: they’re ramjet fusion engines. These types of engines won’t be designed for almost eight hundred years, and when they are, they’ll revolutionize travel, both on Earth and in space. They’re able to absorb almost any type of matter and convert it to fuel. A quick dunk into the ocean takes in a few thousand gallons of seawater, giving the jet more than enough power to circle the globe several times.
The Aithon series of jets aren’t designed for warfare. The original purpose of issuing this model was to transport the Collector’s personnel and equipment from the year 3016 up to the Rift in space, and back down to Earth once they’ve travelled back through time. Sending a battle-ready jet back through the Rift could have been disastrous. It was risky enough to allow futuristic technology to be taken to the beginning the twenty-first century – where cloaking devices, fusion engines and other tracking equipment could have fallen into the wrong hands. It was agreed that a jet would be sent back with the bare minimum in terms of offensive capability. It’s equipped with an assortment of smart bombs, but none are more powerful than anything currently being used by the US military.
In addition to being durable enough to withstand space travel, the hull is coated with graphene – a substance made of pure carbon that’s tougher than diamond, and thinner than a sheet of paper. Stretched over the entire craft, it’s able to deflect more than just meteorites and space debris. Graphene is almost impenetrable to all but the most powerful weapons, few of which exist in the year 2012.
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