Thursday Midnight

by Zachry Wheeler

  Agent Korovin filled one of the chairs around the table. His forehead rested in his palms, propped by an arm tower rising from the surface. Agent Jemison stood over the table with her arms crossed, wearing a troubled expression. Her restless fingers rapped upon her biceps. Agent Razin filled another chair across from Korovin, gripping a tablet to her chest with head bowed.

  “Is there any chance that the threat is baseless?” Cheryl said over the port speaker.

  “Unlikely,” Jemison said. “Given the execution, I would consider it a certainty.”

  “Blyat.” Cheryl vented a loud huff, causing the speaker to crackle. “What’s the status on Jonas?”

  “Unknown,” Korovin said. “He is aware of our intent, but remains in hiding.”

  “Can we pressure the informant?” Razin said. “If he can relay messages, would it not be in our best interest to obtain that capability?”

  “No,” Korovin said with a stern tone. “Last time around, we had Jonas on the wire as leverage. Doren is a gatekeeper now that Jonas is off-grid, and he knows that. If we force his hand, that gate will slam shut.”

  “We can escalate,” Razin said.

  Korovin thumped his hands to the table. “Have any of you read his profile? Doren was part of the final conversion program up in Alaska. And on top of that, we forced him to spy on his best friend.”

  “Who was a transient.”

  “Which he knew nothing about until we informed him. We are damn lucky to have what we already do. If we push him, he will happily walk the plank to watch us burn.”

  An uncomfortable silence gripped the room.

  “So what are our options?” Razin said with a cushioned tone. “We cannot provide a public statement only to have it immediately undermined.”

  “Can we get out ahead of it?” Jemison said.

  “To say what?” Korovin said. “We would look inept no matter how we spun it.”

  “Agreed,” Cheryl said. “Better to react and manage the fallout.”

  “Wait a minute,” Jemison said. She stiffened her posture and gripped her waist. “If we can’t control the reveal, then why not control the subject?”

  “Explain.”

  “The public will focus on the gore, that much is certain. However, the press will start asking questions about Jonas. Who he is, why he matters, etcetera. Why not profile Jonas as the reaction? Tell them what he did. Tell them about the transient who converted to save the world.”

  “Jonas was an enemy of the state,” Razin said.

  “And yet we survive because of him. Recast him into the hero that he actually is. Steal the narrative.” Jemison turned to Korovin. “What do you think, Victor?”

  Korovin chewed his lip while tapping the table, marking every second of contemplation. “I promised him anonymity in exchange for betraying his kind. If this forces him out of hiding, he carries a corrosive history. The second he speaks, we will forfeit the high ground.”

  The group shared a silent deliberation.

  “I think it’s worth the risk,” Jemison said.

  “Agreed,” Cheryl said. “Mae, prepare a statement and respond accordingly.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Jemison glanced at Korovin, who gestured his reluctant approval. She smiled and left the chamber.

  “Yulia, please give Victor and me the room.”

  “Yes ma’am.” Razin stood and followed Jemison out.

  The door latched shut, leaving them to silence.

  “All clear,” Korovin said.

  “So how are you feeling? Really.”

  “I’m not comfortable with this level of risk.”

  “I know. I have only heard your wary voice a few times in my life. It’s still jarring to hear.”

  “Which is why I’m surprised you jumped at the idea.”

  “Not lightly. This is an extraordinary circumstance. I do hope that you can appreciate the necessity.”

  “Mae is an intelligent agent. I trust her judgment.”

  “And I have trusted yours for centuries. I want you to remember that.”

  He grinned slightly. “I will. Spasibo.”

  A hollow ping ended the feed.

  * * *

  The whole of NExUS held its breath.

  The deadline expired.

  As promised, it carried the faces of death.

  The mood inside the computer den was as somber as it was surreal. Jonas clicked through image after image with mouth agape and lungs robbed of air. Anna stood over his shoulder with a hand covering her mouth and tears welling in her eyes. Every so often, a particular image would paint a haunting message in red ... Jonas.

  The frantic voices of countless reporters filled the room with an ominous roar. Many shouted at their audiences as a shared fear boiled to the point of madness. Chat windows pinged with messages that would go unanswered. Forums descended into a hellscape of violent retribution. Jonas and Anna held their tongues as they cycled through the ghastly images, for words had lost their value. Gasps and whimpers filled the void, conveying their primal reactions.

  Then came the statement.

  Soon after release, every indie feed found itself stamped by the silver seal of NExUS. Voices cut out with an abrupt snap, wiped from existence by an omnipresent hand. Navy blue backgrounds infected the den with an eerie glow, as if sunk into a murky pool. A harmonized tone filled the room, prompting Jonas to mute all but one.

  “We now go live to Seattle for a statement from NExUS,” a voice said.

  All feeds cut to the briefing room in Zenit Tower where an empty stage rested in silence. No reporters were present, only a zoomed shot of a podium with faction flags to either side. It was obvious from the very first second that NExUS intended to undercut the narrative.

  Agent Jemison appeared on stage with a tablet in hand. She lowered the device to the podium and reviewed some notes before lifting her eyes to the camera. Her solemn gaze pierced the screen, as if reaching into the ether to take the hand of everyone watching.

  “I send a somber greeting to you all.

  “First, a preface.

  “We were aware of this potential release and chose not to inform you, as we remained skeptical of its validity. We received a threat, which we investigated and concluded to be credible shortly before distribution. Given the timetables involved and the sensitivity of the material, we decided that an immediate response was more appropriate than a hasty and preemptive briefing. As I address you now, we remain confident that it was the right decision.”

  She allowed the assertion to linger as the world digested the overture. With the intro behind her, she braced her tone for a more resolute delivery.

  “We have discovered that the suspect in custody is part of a larger network that seeks to undermine NExUS ideals. Thus, I can reasonably assume that its base is watching this broadcast. To them, I issue the following statement.

  “NExUS will not founder. We will not abide the threats of fanatics, nor will we show restraint or mercy. We defeated the transient threat and we shall defeat you.”

  Jemison held her stare. She took a measured breath and consulted her notes before proceeding.

  “With that said, I must extend a profound apology for what I am about to do. This decision emerged through great duress and consideration, and I can only hope that the man in question is willing to consider our plight.

  “Jonas, if you are watching, please forgive us.”

  She bowed her head for rumination, then returned her gaze to the camera.

  “Jonas was a former transient. I say former because he chose to abandon that path as it veered into fanaticism. A few years ago, a global effort was underway, similar to the one today. Their goal was to shatter the very foundation of our society and conclude the Eternal Age. It was a goal that came perilously close to succeeding. If not for his defection, none of us would be here today.

  “NExUS lauded this courage in the face of annihilation and agreed to preserve his anonymity in return. He feared ret
ribution for what he was, and rightfully so. His actions were shielded from a public eye that still viewed him as the enemy. As such, he decided to live his eternal life in peace, away from the society he so valiantly saved.

  “I repeat, this man saved us.

  “Your friends and families survive because of him. Yes, he was a transient. Yes, he once sought to destroy our world. And lest we forget, we sought to destroy his.

  “Even so, we managed to come to an understanding, to work together for a common good. We, as one, preserved a world that we both call home.

  “This is why it pains me to reveal his story, because we made an explicit promise not to do so. Today we break that promise, not out of haste, but because we feel that his life is in peril. He is our brother, our confidant, an unsung hero of the world we share. Like you, we will do everything in our power to defend the safety of our family. We do not know why the terrorists have targeted him, but we are bound and determined to stand in their way.”

  Jemison locked her eyes to the viewers like a protective mother. She glanced off to the side and nodded to a mystery cohort, making it a point to exhibit some distress. Her gaze lowered to the floor before returning to the camera.

  “If I may speak frankly for a moment, these victims were not criminals, or hoodlums, or vagrants. They were us. You and me. They were not targeted for their values or words, but for what they represented. While it would be tempting to retreat into the darkness, I implore you to continue your lives as normal. We fight a new enemy, one who seeks an eternal sunder. To them, fear is leverage and withdrawal is victory. Do not yield to their vile cowardice. Terrorism is a weakness, the last resort of an ideal without merit. We will not bend to the will of a lesser construct. NExUS will meet it head-on with the full weight of its power.

  “Thank you for your time.”

  She offered a meek smile, then scooped her tablet from the podium and departed the stage.

  One by one, the news feeds transitioned back to a field of stunned reporters. Some gazed into their cameras with eyes watering while others stared at the ground with burdened minds. They shared a rebirth, a change in vision that united them against a common threat. They had been there before, and they would be there again. Voices cracked and stuttered as the reporters resumed their addresses.

  Anna palmed the armrests of her chair and lowered her quivering body onto the cushion. Tears streamed down her cheeks without a sob or whimper. She stared into the void, lost inside a world dismissed as fantasy.

  Without a word, Jonas climbed to his feet and wandered out of the computer den like an aimless zombie.

  CHAPTER 11

  Cheers roared through the main lobby as Jemison emerged from the briefing room. She responded with smiling waves and cordial nods while retaining focus on the task at hand. The assembled crowd parted as she made her way towards the elevators. Razin and Korovin were waiting in the foyer with the doors held open, as if to escort a famed celebrity to her complimentary penthouse. They stepped inside the car and the doors slid shut.

  The elevator began to rise, prompting Jemison to release a grunting sigh. Her body slouched forward like a marathon runner crossing the finish line.

  “Ya did good,” Korovin said.

  “Good?” Razin chuckled and shook her head. “By those standards, the Gettysburg Address would have been mildly satisfying.”

  Jemison smirked. “Still feeling a bit nauseous.”

  “When was the last time you fed?” Razin said, assuming a maternal role.

  “That’s a good point, actually.”

  “I’ll fetch you a quart from stock. Preference?”

  “Beef is fine. Thanks, Yulia.”

  “Meet us in blackout,” Korovin said.

  Razin nodded.

  The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, revealing yet another spirited crowd in the fifth floor lobby. Korovin led the charge, carving a path through a wave of applause. Jemison followed behind while smiling and nodding at the crowd. Razin disappeared into the mass.

  After a short yet troublesome trek, they returned to the blackout room. Korovin pressed his thumb to a scan plate along the wall, unlocking the door. They pushed inside and split around the table. Silence cocooned the chamber as the door latched itself shut. Cheryl was already waiting on the port line, which Korovin unmuted.

  “We’re back,” Korovin said.

  “Agent Jemison,” Cheryl said.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Let me be the first to congratulate you on a wondrous address. The indie feeds are recanting in favor of solidarity. The talking points have been largely positive and the panic has steadily abated. At first glance, it would seem that your approach has worked.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “And now that we have the undivided attention of the public eye, what is our next step?”

  Korovin smiled at Jemison, who returned the smile and yielded the floor with a kind gesture.

  “We need to prep for acquisition,” Korovin said. “I want every available Raven manned and ready. Jonas may have departed Seattle, but he had two years to end up wherever he did. When and if he reaches out, we need to obtain him as quickly as possible.”

  “What is the latest from the captive?”

  “He remains firm on a midnight deadline, giving us just under 24 hours. And if this last event was any indication, I shudder to guess what the next one will entail.”

  Cheryl sighed. “Very well. You have full authority. Prep as needed and keep me informed.”

  “Will do. Spasibo.”

  A hollow ping ended the feed.

  The door unlatched soon after, allowing Razin to enter the room with a thermos of bovine blood in hand. A ribbon of steam rose from the mouth, as she had taken the time to warm it. Korovin and Jemison stood at opposite sides of the table with their palms planted to the surface. Razin traded glances between them.

  “What’d I miss?”

  * * *

  Jonas sat at the dining room table with his gaze locked to the opposite wall. He had emerged from the lower level and fetched a beer from the kitchen before settling into a silent stupor. The open bottle lingered beside him without a single drop consumed. Sweat from the chilled glass pooled at the base, forming a ring stain on the table surface. He inhaled a breath, then released it slow and steady as if to suppress a bubbling sickness.

  The surface level surrounded him with a much-needed placidity. Motes of dust wandered through a stale aroma of inactivity. Random noises prodded his ears, from the creaks of a windswept porch to the hum of an outdated fridge. The house cradled his presence like a forgiving father. His mind, on the other hand, screamed into the night like a lost child.

  Anna emerged from the lower level and made her way to the dining room. She joined him at the table and filled an adjacent seat. Jonas failed to notice, not that his racing mind would let him. Anna wiped her reddened eyes and grasped his hand, breaking him from his trance. He met her eyes and offered a twitching smile.

  “Sorry,” he said with a sullen tone.

  “Don’t be,” she said. “If ever you needed a moment.”

  Jonas nodded and squeezed her hand.

  “I told Gaius that you needed some time. He’ll manage while you’re away.”

  “Thank you.”

  “He also wanted me to tell you that he loves you very much and is incredibly proud of you. A gracious sentiment that I will officially second.”

  Jonas allowed himself a snicker before the gravity of the situation choked it away. A question festered in his throat, strangled by duty and expectation. His gaze met with hers as he recalled the countless sacrifices that she had endured to be there, to witness the pivotal moment that they fought so hard to bear. The words clawed into his mouth before his jaw relented.

  “What if—” He stammered, but persisted. “What if we disappear?”

  Anna ruffled her brow. “What do you mean?”

  “When we left the city, we purged everything from our
previous lives. When we created the network, we shrouded the whereabouts of everyone involved. We made sure that what happened to me would never happen to anyone else. Hell, the only thing I know about my own father is that he lives north of Anchorage.”

  Anna recoiled a bit. “Wha—what are you saying?”

  “If we unplug from the network, we disappear. We can live the rest of our lives here, safe and secure, removed from the world.”

  Anna released his hand and leaned back into the chair. She studied him through a puzzled expression before lifting to her feet. A tension gripped the room as she paced around the table with arms crossed, pausing every so often to glance up to the ceiling. After a spell of strained silence, she turned to Jonas from across the room. “Two years. You have led a meticulous revolution for two years, knowing that what just happened likely never would.”

  “I know, but—”

  “So you would abandon everyone out in the cold? Even your mother and father? Brothers and sisters? They risked their lives for you, Jonas.”

  “I just—”

  “And now you want to betray their—”

  “I don’t trust it!” He slammed his fists onto the table.

  Anna flinched and fell silent.

  Jonas heaved with trepidation. His eyes began to water as heavy breaths morphed into a panic attack. “I—I don’t trust it. I’ve seen it before. That fear in the agent’s eyes. I’ve seen it. She knows that a war is coming. I am nothing but a tool to them. Leverage for the unknown. Who’s to say that I would impact a damn thing? And who are they to determine the strength of our message? You’ve seen the feeds. It’s the same bullshit day after day after day. The world is starving for conflict, so why fight it? Why not break free and actually live the peace that we’ve been fighting for?”

  His face crumpled with anguish. He bowed his head and clawed at his scalp, raining tears onto the table. Coughs and whimpers fled his lungs, prompting Anna to rush over and cradle him. She pressed his head to her chest as a torrent of dread crippled his body. His trembling hands pawed at her like a terrified child. Anna stroked his hair and whispered her graces, reeling him back from the abyss.