Destination: Earth: The Enigma Series, Part Three

by Andrew C Broderick

  Even having grown up together, Storm couldn’t tell whether Drew’s voice contained concern or disdain. He nodded. “Can’t get a shuttle back. They’re saying both the air and space travel systems are going to be down for another week.”

  “You can stay here as long as you like, of course.”

  “Thanks. What’s the latest on the Enigma?” Storm asked.

  Drew hung up his coat and entered the oversized living room. “We don’t know. All attempts to track it have failed so far. Everyone from the President on down is leaning on us and, so far, we don’t have any information to give them. It’s a tense time.”

  “I can well imagine.”

  “Goodnight, Dad,” came a voice from upstairs.

  “’Night, son.”

  Storm had often tried to imagine what domestic bliss would be like. Even though Drew’s household had its fair share of dysfunction, it was the closest he’d come to experiencing it. Even Storm and Bonita’s early days had been marred by fighting. They probably never should have gotten married, never mind have kids together, but they’d wanted to try…

  “You want to shoot some pool?” Drew asked.

  “Yeah, sure,” Storm said, rising and stretching.

  Down in the house’s enormous recreation room, Drew shot a fast ball and broke up the pack in all directions. He surveyed the table and smiled. “Nearly got that red in.”

  “I’ll finish the job,” Storm said walking around to the other side of the table. He lined up his cue on the ridge between his thumb and forefinger and skillfully tapped the cue ball, sending the red into the pocket on the opposite side.

  “Odds,” he said.

  Drew nodded, and examined the table looking for his next shot.

  “Needless to say, it’s a damnably difficult game to play on the Moon,” Storm said. “There’s a table in one of the taverns in Apex City. Dmitry and I play on occasion.”

  “Really? I wouldn’t have thought it would be that different, since the mass of the balls doesn’t change, nor the force you hit them with, unless your muscles are atrophying in the low gravity.”

  Storm smiled. “No, I keep up with my exercise regimen to make sure that doesn’t happen. Maybe I exaggerated about the game; sinking a ball isn’t that much harder. They just keep rolling forever since there’s less friction.”

  Storm suddenly realized that this was the first game he could remember playing with Drew that wasn’t a competition for their father’s affection. Maybe something good had come out of the Enigma after all.

  “How are you going to do salvage operations now that your crab’s destroyed?” Drew asked.

  “We aren’t,” Storm sighed. “SSI is finished.”

  “If we manage to avert war, you’ll probably have agents trying to get you to sign up for book and movie deals, since you and I are the only people that have ever been inside the Enigma.” Drew took his shot, and missed.

  “Yeah…,” Storm said absently as he looked for his next shot. “You didn’t leave me much to work with, brother.”

  Drew nodded. Storm examined the table at length, calculating trajectories and probabilities. Drew sighed impatiently. “You want a beer? I’m going to get one,” he said before heading off to the small bar at the other end of the rec room.

  “Sure.” Storm propped his cue above the table as best he could, to take an awkward shot over the top of another ball. He missed, and tapped another ball with his finger in the process. He hoped Drew wouldn’t notice it had moved when he got back.

  Drew returned presently with two open bottles of Blue Moon, beaded with condensation, and handed one to Storm. “Thanks.”

  “Did you take your shot?”

  “Yup. So what did you find inside the Enigma?” Storm asked.

  “It was pitch black, of course. The first chamber we came across was hexagonal, and after that there was a long tunnel.” Drew winced slightly.

  “That’s exactly what I saw too. I’m guessing its builders were going for some kind of structure that was light but strong.”

  Drew nodded. “That’s what we thought, too.” He suddenly raised his eyebrows. “Did anything… odd happen while you were in there?”

  Storm nodded emphatically. “The damn thing spoke to me.”

  “Audibly? No, that’s a dumb question since it’s all vacuum…”

  “No. It spoke to my mind. It asked me if I would possess it, and this brilliant burst of light flew along the tube past me.”

  “Huh. I had a similar experience. Scared the living shit out of me.” Both men had now set their cues on the side of the table, and were staring intently at one another, beers in hand.

  “What did it say to you?” Storm asked.

  “It didn’t, but I felt like it was probing the very depths of my being.”

  “Do you think it’s haunted?”

  Drew shook his head. “I don’t know what to think. But anything’s possible. I think the paranormal’s real, but I also think it more likely the aliens have some kind of mind manipulation trick going on. If so, maybe there was one in close proximity but out of sight, maybe just on the other side of the tunnel wall.”

  “Now there’s a thought,” Storm said. “Being within a few feet of one of them, whoever they are.”

  “Probably thousands, maybe even millions of them on that ship. We have to find out what their intentions are so we can be prepared.”

  “I take it you tried asking them?” Storm quipped.

  Drew smiled slightly and nodded. “Yes, nonstop. We haven’t heard anything back.”

  “I’m guessing they’ll be here in less than a year now, with their ship accelerating. You probably don’t know how soon though, right?”

  “Nope, we lost them. Could be as little as six months.”

  “Ugh. Just the thought of a ship full of possibly hostile aliens coming to Earth makes me want to puke. I wish I could get Anna off Earth. I don’t see that happening anytime soon, though.” Storm sighed.

  “Man, that’s rough,” Drew sympathized.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I wonder if Bonita would let you take her for a while when the aliens are due to arrive? The same way they evacuated kids from London during the second world war.”

  “That’s an idea,” Storm said, gazing unfocused at the wall. “But I don’t think she’d go for it. She’s too selfish. But, it’s worth a try.” He turned back to face Drew. “You going out to try and find the ship again?”

  “No. I’m not anxious to go personally after what happened out there. We’ll send someone, though.”

  Storm nodded. “Dmitry mentioned something before all this nuclear bomb nonsense happened and the Enigma emerged from its shell. He said it might be related to the Surrey Rapture.”

  “It’s funny you should say that; that theory keeps coming up. In lieu of actually finding the Enigma’s offspring again, I’m going to go to the Rapture site and see if I can find out anymore about what went down there, so to speak.”

  “Sounds like a good idea. Maybe you’ll find something all the academics who’ve studied it missed.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Storm’s communicator rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Storm, Mr. Bernie Weinstein from X-Star Pictures. I’ll get straight to the point: we’re making a major motion picture about the Enigma, and we want you to be our consultant to make sure we get the details exactly right. Your name would be up at the top of the credits, of course. We’re offering you 30 million dollars. What do you say? This’ll be a picture for the ages, and we want you on board.”

  Storm was quiet for a moment.

  “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Weinstein. I hope there’ll be a world left to watch the movie.”

  Weinstein cleared his throat, to break up the awkward pause.

  “But right now,” Storm continued, “I’m focused on getting my daughter off Earth before the alien ship gets here. And if I can’t do that, I’m going to live in Sacramento to be near her.”
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  “I thought you might be focused on Anna, given that you’re such a loving family man. And that’s what makes you all the more interesting, Storm. Not only that, but you’re an action hero, one of only two people in the world who’s actually seen inside the Enigma. That’s why I’m going to double our offer to 60 million dollars. And we have some of the best lawyers in the business. We can set them to work on getting you custody of your daughter, plus the use of a private shuttle to get you both off Earth before it gets here. You won’t get a better deal anywhere. We want the one and only Storm Kovacs, and we’ll do just about anything if it helps to get you on board. You’d have to be on set and available at all times, of course. You know the world’s gonna be thinking about nothing but the alien ship. A well-produced movie about it will probably break all box office records.”

  “If there’s anybody left to watch it after the alien ship gets here…”

  “That’s exactly why this is going to be so huge, the blockbuster to end them all.”

  Storm chuckled. “You’re very persuasive, Mr. Weinstein. Give me a little bit of time to think about it.”

  “Okay … but we need to know within a couple of days. We’re half done with casting at this point, and we need to pull this together fast. I know I can count on you, Storm. And if you do this, the world will feel the same way.”

  The line went dead. Storm sighed. It was an offer he couldn’t really refuse, given that it would get Anna to safety—if there still was such a thing. The aliens might want the entire inner solar system, or even more, and may well have the power to get it. But it was far better to be off Earth than on it, and every flight off the planet was booked solid. Tickets couldn’t be had at any cost. And with that kind of money, he could afford a pad in both Hollywood and Sacramento, plus the means to commute easily between the two. But what about Dmitry and Desira? Two of the greatest friends he’d ever had, people he’d gotten into, and out of, scrapes with during their risky and often unpleasant business.

  Storm called Mr. Weinstein back. “Okay, I’ll take your deal.”

  ****

  “Dammit, how did they know we’re here?” Drew asked, looking back through the car’s rear window at the vehicles tailing them, all filled with reporters, as they wound their way through the outskirts of London.

  “Don’t know,” Achilles grunted. “Probably something to do with you being one of the biggest figures in current events.”

  “Can we do anything about it?”

  “We could hire a private security firm to keep them at bay.”

  “Good idea.” Twisting glass spires and apartment buildings with elaborately curved fronts flew by as Drew retrieved his communicator. “Manfred Larson, please.”

  “How’s it going?” the familiar voice said a few moments later.

  “On the way there now, but we’ve got a ton of reporters chasing us. Could you arrange some security for us? We could really do without the paparazzi.”

  “Of course. I hope you find some clues there.”

  “So do we.” Drew took one look back at the cars still keeping pace with them as he put his communicator away.

  London, now home to twenty-one million souls, had expanded as far as Woking, much to the discontent of the people there. The town had been virtually swallowed by the ever-expanding metropolis.

  “Car, stay on the orbital for now.”

  “Will do.”

  Drew looked at their exit going by as they stayed on the motorway until their unwelcome escort could be dealt with.

  “They probably know where we’re going,” Achilles said.

  “Probably. Hopefully Manfred’ll secure the site for us at least, so they can’t lie in wait for us.”

  ****

  Their dark blue car cruised along the double-track road, skirting Woking as the edge of London gave way to open fields.

  “I see we’re covered,” Achilles said, eyeing the police cordon ahead.

  “They closed the road for us!”

  The car pulled up to the checkpoint and slowed to a walking pace. Two bobbies in high-visibility yellow jackets inspected its occupants carefully, and waved them on.

  “Can’t believe I’ve never been here before,” Drew said as the lush green fields of the fenced-off site came into view on their left. The vehicle slowed and swung into the parking lot of the visitor’s center with a crunch of gravel. Both men got out and stood up. Drew looked up at the overcast sky and inhaled deeply. “Smell that?”

  “What?”

  “Completely clean air. There’s an aroma and a freshness to it that you just don’t get in America. Well that’s not true of everywhere, but there’s a quality to it here.”

  “Probably the lush vegetation.”

  “Yeah.”

  Drew turned his attention back to the task at hand and strode purposefully to the clear door of the glass and slate structure, followed by Achilles.

  The pretty young woman behind the counter flashed them a gracious smile, as did the middle-aged woman next to her. “So, our celebrity guests have arrived,” she said. “I’m Maureen, manager of the visitor’s center. I gather you’ve come to sniff out the origin of our alien friends?”

  “Something like that,” Drew grunted.

  “Very good. We have a range of books on the Rapture, and gifts if you’d like to take one home for the kids…”

  “I read the books, or at least skimmed them, on the way here.”

  Maureen looked a little disappointed. “Oh. Well, in the back corner we have a small art gallery of original drawings and paintings of the event.”

  “Seen them too.”

  She nodded, put out. “I’m sure you have, Mr. Kovaks. Not forgetting you either, Mr. Tyler.” She smiled at Achilles. He nodded back. “Out the door on this side”—Maureen gestured to her right—“is the start of the walkway. It’ll take you around the field where it actually happened. If you go straight on, you can see the ruins of Featherstone Farm, just as it was after the event. The government sealed off the site and called in the Royal Society to investigate—I’m sure you know that—and it was eventually passed on to the National Trust.”

  Drew nodded. “Thanks. We’ll need to leave the walkway, of course.”

  “It’s normally off limits to guests, but you gents have permission to go anywhere you’d like. Would you like a cup of tea? It’s our personal supply; we don’t cater to normal guests…”

  “That’s kind of you.” Drew nodded in thanks, and without waiting for another word, he strode out of the glass door opposite, trailed by Achilles.

  A few dozen feet along the wooden boardwalk they stopped to look to their left at the old horse pasture. It was roughly the size of a football field, and evidently hadn’t been mowed in some time.

  Drew pointed to deep furrows long ago carved into the earth. “Six indentations in the ground, likely from its engines.”

  “Yup. There’s a gate a little further along we’ll need to pass through.”

  They headed to the entryway and passed into the hallowed ground.

  “There’s no doubt in my mind that this was an actual alien landing,” Achilles said as they stood at the edge of one of the two-storey deep pits, their depths long since grassed over and their sides sloped steeply.

  “Yeah. No way it could have been a hoax. There was too much destruction to have been faked, and there are too many eyewitness accounts.”

  “All the drawings and paintings show the same thing: either this field being blown to smithereens, by a column of fire, or the world’s biggest firework detonating violently. And the accounts have just enough variation to be true.”

  “The vexing question,” pondered Achilles, “is why was no debris found? They deduced by triangulation that whatever it was would have been about six miles up when it exploded.”

  “Right. It would have created a debris field at least a dozen miles wide.”

  Drew began to pick his way slowly down the grassy side of the hole. “Glad it’s not we
t today, else I’d have a real problem here.”

  Achilles followed him carefully, until both men were looking up at a wide circle of sky, framed by the sides of the pit. Drew then looked down, scraping the grass with his shoe. “The actual site of an alien landing. I feel like I’m ten years old at the beach again. We used to dig big holes and make a fort.”

  Achilles nodded and smiled. “I feel like getting a shovel and digging now.”

  “Yeah, although previous generations have gone over the whole place with a fine-tooth comb, including ground-penetrating radar.”

  They stood for a few minutes in silence, examining the bottom and sides of the pit, not knowing what, if anything, they were looking for.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m done here,” Achilles said.

  “Yes. Let’s check the others.” A helicopter made a slow pass overhead. “Not sure what they’re expecting to see, not from that high anyway.”

  They climbed out with difficulty, and made their way to the next hole. It was almost identical. Soon after they had climbed back out, the northern dusk began to make itself known.

  “I vote we adjourn for today,” Achilles said.

  “May as well. I feel like I’ve had my workout for the day. Let’s head off to the hotel. It’s nice, five stars apparently. Most importantly, it’s close by.”

  “Good. Maybe we’ll unwrap the mystery tomorrow,” Achilles said.

  ****

  “Good morning, Mr. Kovacs and Mr. Tyler,” the middle-aged proprietress of the inn smiled, as they reached the bottom of the mahogany staircase. She was smartly dressed yet homey, her graying hair done up in a bun. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes, thanks,” Drew replied.

  “I’m so glad. I’ve reserved a private dining room for you. I’ll show you to it.”

  They followed her along the ancient hallway, with its old paintings of landscapes and battle scenes, to a dark wood-paneled door at its end. The scent of bacon and eggs wafted through from the kitchen. She opened the door, and Drew frowned at the deep red decor as he entered; evidently the word ‘tasteful’ in the AA guide book had been written by someone who hadn’t used this space. She showed them to their seats at either side of a round table with a lace tablecloth. Fine china adorned the tabletop, gleaming silverware set pristinely at each place.