by Jeff Gunhus
Charlie grinned and giggled again, then fell into step behind Rick to work on grills and smokers and get the town ready for its big day.
It wasn’t until after lunch that Rick had to tell his first lie about the mine. He didn’t like to lie as a general rule, but he really hated doing it to Bertie.
As mayor, she was going full speed all day. The Fall Festival was her baby, an event she brought back from the ash heap only four years earlier. Most of the old-timers remembered the town’s heyday when the Resurrection Fall Festival was the event of the year. People came in from as far away as Boulder and even Denver to get a taste of small-town mountain culture, enjoy a parade, eat pit beef and funnel cakes, drink hot apple cider and marvel at the aspen trees blazing orange, red and yellow.
But as the town suffered through the dark period of the last couple of decades, the challenges of the mine closure, the tragedy of the Jihadi wars, the rise of Imperial China through the Pacific Rim, and the overall sense that the world was sliding inexorably into an abyss, no one felt like throwing a party. It’d taken every bit of Bertie’s skill and infectious enthusiasm to get the first one off the ground. Even then, it had been a disaster.
The morning of the first festival, a thunderstorm had ripped through town, laying waste to the minimal decorations and the few vendor tents set up in Town Square. But as is common with mountain storms, it lasted less than an hour, giving way to the sun soon after. The people of Resurrection came out like city dwellers leaving shelters after a bomb raid, took one look at the damage, and declared the festival over and the entire thing a fool’s errand. The good old days were over, they said, and it was a ridiculous notion to chase what was gone forever.
Bertie hadn’t said a word. She just rolled up her sleeves, walked out into Town Square, and got to work repairing the soggy, torn decorations. Rick was one of the first people to join her, grabbing a huge downed branch and dragging it out of the way. Pretty soon, the rest of the town joined in. There was no discussion or debate, just one person after another leaving the sidelines and getting back into the game of remaking their town. Someone figured out how to pipe music through the loudspeaker system in the square and soon they were all cleaning up and dancing to the Rolling Stones. Mick Jagger was a prophet that day. It wasn’t the festival the town wanted, but it was exactly what it needed. After the clean-up was done, the party went well into the night, and the Resurrection Fall Festival was reborn.
Since then Bertie was on a mission each year to make the event bigger and better, using it as a tool to bring the town together in a way it hadn’t been in years. Rick had hoped that she’d be so busy that their paths wouldn’t cross and she wouldn’t have a chance to ask him about Manny. He should have known better.
“How’s the fried chicken?” Bertie asked, directing the question at Charlie munching on a leg like he was a caveman. Dahlia had brought it from home and she, Rick and Charlie had made a little picnic out of it.
“Good,” Charlie said, licking the grease off his fingers. He held it out to her. “Wanna bite?”
“No, you go ahead,” she said. “Get big muscles.”
“Like Sheriff Rick,” he said, flexing his bicep. “Look at that.”
“Whoa,” Rick said. “Careful, you’re gonna poke someone’s eye out with that thing.”
Charlie laughed and went back to chewing his chicken leg.
“Town’s looking good,” Dahlia said.
Bertie looked across Town Square, the pride obvious in her eyes. “We’re getting there.” She turned back to Dahlia. “Mind if I borrow Rick for a minute?”
“Take him,” she said. “He’s eating all the biscuits.”
Rick stood up and grabbed a biscuit from the straw basket on the blanket. “Just for that, I’m taking this one for the road.”
He and Bertie walked down the sidewalk that went through the center of the park. Once they were out of earshot, Bertie glanced back at Dahlia and Charlie. “That’s real nice.”
Rick looked back. “Yeah, Charlie helped me all morning. He’s a good kid.”
“That’s not what I was talking about.”
Rick looked away, hoping she caught the signal that Dahlia was a topic he didn’t want to discuss. “So, what’s up?” he asked, knowing full well why she’d pulled him aside.
“Uh oh,” she said. “Is it that bad?”
“What are you …” His voice trailed off as she gave him one of her patented arched eyebrow looks. “OK, I talked to Manny. He’s having a tough time.”
“How tough?”
“Tough enough. He’s going to take a few days off. Get his head back on straight. When he returns, I’ll make sure he goes to his support meetings with the group down in Elk’s Ridge.”
Bertie walked in silence for a while. Rick felt pleased with himself. Technically, everything he’d said was accurate.
“What did he see up at the mine?” Bertie asked.
That was the question he’d been dreading. Rick knew the woman next to him had liar-radar like no one else he’d ever met, but he didn’t have much of a choice. If he confided in her, then she’d feel it would be her moral duty to either tell the town right away, or keep the secret and then resign as mayor for lying to people. He didn’t want to put her in that position if he could help it.
“Nothing from what I could get out of him,” he said. Technically, another true statement. “I know he served time in Tora Bora in Afghanistan. Maybe being in the mountains triggered him. Maybe seeing the mineshaft. Hard to say.”
She searched his face, but didn’t linger too long.
“Hmm … hard to say,” she said. “So there was nothing unusual going on up at the mine? No activity of any kind?”
Rick felt himself tense up. She was getting too specific. Then it suddenly occurred to him that maybe she already knew what was going on up there. Maybe they’d already reached out to her in advance to smooth the gears in case they were discovered early in the process. His stomach turned over at the idea that maybe there was a stack of hundred-dollar bills somewhere in Bertie’s house, a gift from the CZ Corp for her silence and her assistance when they needed it.
“Nothing worth talking about,” he said. Again, almost true.
Bertie put her arms across her chest and looked back over at Dahlia and Charlie, now folding the blanket thirty yards behind them. “You’ve got a good thing there,” she said. “The three of you.”
“We’re just––”
“You live in a small town, Rick. The only people who think the two of you are keeping some kind of secret are you and Dahlia.” She reached out and grabbed his arm. “You have your own reasons for keeping it quiet, but just know everyone thinks it’s a good thing. Even Jerry’s folks.”
“Jesus,” Rick muttered, taking his hat off and wringing it with his hands. The idea of Jerry’s parents knowing he was with Dahlia made him nauseous.
“I’m only bringing this up because … because … it’s a good thing you have going,” she said.
Rick pushed back his embarrassment and took another look at Bertie. She was biting her lower lip, a little habit that only showed up when she was nervous. He’d missed it before because he’d been so caught up trying not to tell her about the mine, but Bertie was rattled about something.
“What’s all this about? What’s going on here?”
Bertie hugged her arms tighter to her chest. “Someone contacted me a couple of weeks ago. Said they weren’t sure, but they thought they’d seen some kind of activity in the data lines running from that research lab they used to have in the mine.”
She didn’t explain further; he knew the lab she was talking about, and he had a sinking feeling that he knew where the conversation was going.
“This person wanted to know if I knew of a new buyer or any activity up there. I told them no and that we’d know about it if there was anything going on. We hung up and I didn’t hear from them again. I thought that’d be the end of it.”
Rick felt a pain
in his side. All the pieces were fitting together for him now. Bertie’s nervousness. Her insistence that he had a good thing going with Dahlia. All of it.
“But I’m guessing that wasn’t the end of it,” he said.
Bertie pointed toward the stage in front of city hall. Standing in front of it was a woman he thought he’d never have to see again.
“I tried to handle it without getting you involved. But she wanted to talk to you,” Bertie said. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” Rick said. “So am I.”
9
“Surprised to see you here,” Rick said as he walked up to Cassie Baker, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice but sensing he wasn’t doing a very good job of it.
“Hi to you too,” she said. “Bertie thought I shouldn’t bother you. I said you wouldn’t mind. Hope that was all right.”
“Depends on why you’re here.” He came to a stop in front of her and stuck his hands in his pockets.
She was still undeniably good looking, still with the intense, questioning brown eyes and perfect olive skin, a gift from her mother. But that smooth complexion came as a package deal with a fiery Italian temper. The last time he’d seen her, she’d worn her hair down well past her shoulders, but it was shorter now and pulled back into a ponytail. A nod to efficiency, he guessed. No time for long hair when you worked in a lab seven days a week trying to change the world. She was dressed in jeans and a sleek, high-performance jacket zipped up to the collar. He noticed her hiking boots looked brand new, the outline of the price tag sticker still visible on one of them.
“New girlfriend?” she asked, nodding over to Dahlia. “Cute little boy.”
At least she looked nervous, Rick thought. It made him feel a little better. “What brings you up here? I’m guessing it’s not the Fall Festival.”
“I didn’t even know it was going on. Town’s looking great. Bertie was telling me it’ll be the biggest one yet. A couple thousand people maybe?”
“Should be a good time,” he said plainly, clearly closing down that line of conversation. He waited for the real reason she was there.
An awkward silence followed. Rick glanced back through the park and saw Dahlia and Charlie walking across the north side. He watched her for a few seconds and then caught her quick glance his direction. From the distance, he couldn’t make out the expression on her face, but he was sure she wasn’t smiling at him.
Cassie cleared her throat. “OK, so this couldn’t be more awkward, so I’m just going to get to the point.”
“That would be great,” he said.
“I’ll make this quick,” she said, matching his tone. “I’m still working with Genysis—”
“I wouldn’t say that name too loud around here,” Rick said. “Some people are still pretty angry about how that whole thing went down. Some people hold a grudge. Some people find it hard to forgive.”
Cassie pursed her lips. “Some people? Well, that’s their prerogative. Maybe it wasn’t handled well, but what happened, happened. And it was three years ago. Grudge or not, there’s no changing it now.”
“That’s for damn sure.”
Cassie blew out an exasperated breath. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
“What makes you think that?” he snapped.
Rick took a breath and reined himself back in. Seeing Cassie had stirred up emotions he hadn’t felt in a long time, feelings he thought he’d faced and dealt with. But seeing her so unexpectedly had brought the heartbreak and the bitter anger roaring back. Still, he liked to think he was a better man now. And she was right, it was a long time ago. He held his hands up.
“I’m sorry, it’s just … you just caught me by surprise is all.”
“You’re right. It’s my fault. I tried to send someone else up here,” she said. “But most of the old team that worked in the mine are gone. Off working in start-ups or cashing in by freelancing.”
Rick tensed at the mention of the mine. “Mine’s been closed for years. Genysis was the last one to turn the lights off up there. You all locked the door and got the hell out of here.”
The last words held their edge. When he said You all, he actually meant Cassie, and they both knew it. She didn’t take the bait. “Genysis only leased space. When the mine sold, we were the first to get booted.”
“Genysis could have bought a thousand mines the size of Resurrection if it wanted. Leaving was a choice, so don’t suggest it wasn’t.”
Cassie balked at his tone. She tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Anything going on up there? At the mine, I mean.”
“I haven’t been up there in a while.”
“Funny, Bertie told me you were up there just this morning.”
He cleared his throat, feeling like one of the teenagers he busted smoking weed down by the river. What do you have there? Uh … cough, cough … nothing, Sheriff.
“I was up that direction today, but didn’t go all the way to the mine itself. There was a downed tree in the road so it would have been at least another mile hike up the mountain.” Hiking had never been Cassie’s thing, so he threw that part in as a deterrent. Unfortunately, he could tell she wasn’t buying it.
“Here’s the thing,” she said. “When we moved, most of the lab was left intact. Just the infrastructure, I mean. Anything that could be removed, Genysis took with them. There was some hope that a research group from a university might take it over. Maybe a collider to study subatomic particles, or even radiation trials for the space program. The mine was perfect for that, the depth naturally blocking all external radiation. All particles, really. Except for neutrinos, of course.”
“Of course, not the neutrinos,” Rick said, already lost. The common ground in their relationship had never been understanding the science that Cassie had been involved with. During their almost two years together, he never got past a grade school understanding of subatomic particles. To be fair, she never learned police procedures either.
She made a face, letting him know she was aware he was making fun of her, but it didn’t slow her down. “All the tech gear was stripped out except for the data trunk lines, the fiber optic cables that connected the lab to the outside world so we could send evals to super cs around the world, whenever we could get time.”
He remembered super cs were supercomputers, the massive systems Cassie would obsess about, complaining about her lack of access the way he supposed astronomers complained about fighting to access the best telescopes in the world. He was amazed at how standing there talking to Cassie about neutrinos and super cs made the last three years drop away and feel like only a couple of weeks. It was like they were just restarting a conversation they’d put on hold when something interrupted them for a short time. Only that interruption had left him devastated.
“I’ve got a lot going on today,” he said. “Can you get to the point here?”
Cassie appeared taken aback, but then settled into a cool reserve. “Sure, I know you’re busy. Bottom line is that we left some sensors on those data lines, just in case someone else restarted the lab.”
“Genysis wanted to spy on them? Nice.”
“It wasn’t like that. The sensors can’t read the data, only measure the flow. Technically, those lines are still Genysis property. If someone else is going to try to use them, especially if it’s a competitor in our space, then we’ll get an injunction and pay the thirty-million-dollar price tag to remove the data lines.”
“And you’re here because the data lines are being used again?” Rick asked. He pictured Keefer and his high-security fence. He said it was to protect the mine from the inevitable backlash over going full auto, but Rick wondered now if that was just a cover. Maybe they were doing something instead of mining behind those walls.
“If that were the case, that would be easy,” Cassie said. “And Genysis lawyers would be up here, not me. No, it’s more complicated than that. We recorded three bursts of data over the lines, sent out over regular intervals, and each with i
dentical sizes.”
“There’s your proof then. Time to call the lawyers, I guess.” All Rick wanted was to buy enough time to get through the two days he’d promised Keefer. He hated the idea of robot workers running the mine, but it wasn’t like there was a line of companies fighting to buy the place. He figured it would take until Monday for the Genysis lawyers to do anything. By then Keefer would have made his announcement to the town and the promised money would be safe. The more Rick had thought about it, the more he’d convinced himself that the money was the key to saving the town. He wasn’t about to let Cassie wreck it over some data lines Genysis wanted to protect.
“Again, not that easy,” she said. “We’re thinking there might just be a malfunction in one of the sensors.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because once we started to analyze the data packets, we discovered they were unlike anything we’d seen before. To say they were gigantic is to miss the idea completely. Like trying to really understand the scale of a single person standing next to the solar system.”
He’d forgotten how animated she got when talking science. She was still the same science geek he’d fallen for years ago. Still the same woman who’d broken his heart when she’d chosen to move back to Denver, leaving behind Resurrection and the wedding ring he’d offered her on a bended knee. He was thinking about that moment, when she said the words that caused a chill to run down his spine.
“Either the sensor up there is busted and sending phantom readings,” Cassie said, “or someone is doing some seriously big science in my old lab, using data compression techniques unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Either way, like it or not, I’m going up there today to find out which it is.”
10
Keefer cradled the phone and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his eyes, trying to push back the headache that always seemed to accompany a conversation with Brandon Morris, the CEO of Genysis. The call was going as it usually did, with the younger man talking and Keefer biting his tongue so he didn’t say anything stupid that would turn off the spigot of endless funds. Morris was a bona-fide genius when it came to technology—a couple billion dollars of net worth attested to that fact—but he was also one of the most annoying people Keefer had worked with.