Vincent

by Meyer, Jonathan G.

  The house inside was impressive. A home from another era. They made their way to a large well-equipped kitchen where the man moved an area rug and pulled up on a ring attached to a trap door. Wide steps led down. He pulled a string leading into the dark, and a dim light illuminated the stairs. “It is an old wine cellar and no longer used. You will be safe down here.”

  Claire did not look enthused. Still, she helped them get the ship down the worn wooden steps and into the dirt cave he called a wine cellar. Someone was banging on the front door and yelling, “Open up Adar. We need to check inside.”

  Adar took two steps backward and raised a finger to his lips, turned off the light, and ran up the steps. They listened as he closed the trap door and replaced the rug; leaving them crouching in the dark next to the cause of the search.

  They heard him open the door and soon after the sound of heavy boots tromping through the house. One of the men asked, “Have you seen or heard anything funny in the last half hour or so. A loud crash maybe?”

  “I was preparing for work and rather busy…sir. I heard nothing unusual. Has something happened?”

  “No. We just received a report of noises out here. You sure you didn’t hear nothing?”

  “I am sorry, sir. I cannot always hear the outside world from inside the house.”

  Dust fell through the cracks in the floor while the men walked around the room above. Jim and Claire backed into a corner and covered their faces with their hands, trying desperately to be silent.

  After what seemed an eternity later, the men left. The man who spoke earlier told Adar to report immediately if he found anything unusual.

  “What is it I might find?” Adar asked.

  “Anything unusual—you let us know. Okay?”

  “Yes, sir. I will let you know first thing.”

  Five minutes later the rug was pulled back, and Adar opened the trapdoor. He peeked down the steps and said, “It is all right now. You can come up and explain yourselves.”

  When Adar’s head disappeared, Jim asked Vincent, “How much can I tell him? He just saved our lives.”

  “He must not know the bigger picture, James Thompson. Tell him as little as possible, or he will be put at risk.”

  “That might be easier said than done,” replied Jim.

  ****

  They were here, and Jack Smith knew it. The use of the thermal scanners was his idea, and it worked. The retired politician smiled at his cleverness when the sighting was reported, and looked forward to having the ship brought to him. He was told the drone was damaged and crashed somewhere on the south side of the island. Three well-trained men watched the doors of the mansion while nine others searched for what they thought was a drone. His efforts were coming to fruition, and he was thrilled.

  Jack was currently in what he called ‘The Basement,’ which was designed as a place to bug-out in the event of a disaster. Everything he needed to survive was within reach, with enough supplies to last for several years. The bunker was at the bottom of a concrete reinforced shaft with an elevator accessible only to him. The hideaway made him feel safe, and the addition of oriental rugs and antique furniture to the concrete apartment made it livable.

  Before his desk chair rested the machine; sitting atop an ornate pedestal. It was a simple and uncomplicated looking three-foot sphere, with a shiny silver exterior. Its simplicity disguised its hidden capabilities

  When he first learned of its existence, the spaceship informed him it could melt down into the center of an ice shelf and generate enough heat to create a channel for warm water to complete the process. Placed at strategic locations, it would significantly increase the loss of ice and contribute to sea level rise. When the ice melting machine finishes at one place, it automatically floats to the surface and can be redeployed at another.

  He had plans. Melting the ice would change the make-up of maritime travel, shortening the distance of navigation. A changing climate will cause sickness and disease, creating a larger market for pharmaceuticals. He recently purchased controlling shares in three international shipping companies that sailed arctic waters, and the amount of money involved left him giddy.

  There were many opportunities to his scheme. He would have the leverage required to gain power over entire countries. They would either submit or suffer the consequences. The threat alone would open many doors.

  He keyed his radio and demanded to know, “Have you found it yet?”

  The man in charge of the search replied, “Not yet sir. We’ve been all over the area and found nada. We are going over the grounds again.”

  “Have you talked to the caretaker?” He could never remember the man’s name.

  “Yes, sir. He didn’t know anything.”

  “I was told it fell close to the old house. Go back and talk to him again. He must have seen or heard something.”

  The man listening on the other end rolled his eyes, and his reply allowed some of his exasperation to come through. “I was just there. However, if you think I should—I will.”

  “You better believe you will. If you can’t do as I say, I’ll find someone who will.”

  “I’m sorry, sir—It’s just if we don’t know what we are looking for it makes it harder to find. What’s so special about this little drone?”

  “You know what you need to know. Your job is to follow orders and forget the questions. Do as I say—and quickly.”

  Most of the time it was a good job. His employer was sometimes hard to work with, but it was a well-paid, easy gig. He replied, “Roger that…sir.”

  Jack did not see the middle finger he raised to the house on the hill.

  Chapter Nine

  Sunlight illuminated the window curtains while the three conspirators sat on plastic covered furniture before a stone fireplace. Adar made tea. His skin color hinted at a middle-eastern descent, and his hair was short, black and curly. His dark brown eyes were always in motion and noticed everything. Adar handed them their cups and came directly to the point. “What is it you bring into my home that causes so many problems?”

  Claire allowed Jim to do the talking. He was in a better position to know what to say. Jim was not so sure he agreed. Regardless, he had to tell him something. “It’s a prototype for a new kind of drone. We were conducting some tests when we lost control and it crashed,” he lied.

  Jim’s whole life was spent trying to be forthright and factual. His ex-wife told him many times he was a terrible liar, and she was right. Adar saw through his deception and showed his disappointment.

  “You break into my home, and then you tell me untruths. If you wish my help, I must know the truth. Do not be afraid.”

  Jim knew his deception was failing, and for a moment was unsure how to continue. Before he could make things worse, a banging began at the front door.

  “Adar! Let me in. I need to talk to you.”

  Their savior stood and yelled a reply, “I will be right there!”

  He motioned them back to the kitchen where he moved the rug and opened the trap door. “I will try again to make them satisfied. Please stay down here until I return.”

  Jim and Claire did not argue and returned to the dark hole. Adar closed up and left to answer the door. Once again, they heard the door open, and Adar ask, “May I help you?”

  The threat intended was undeniable. “Yes. I believe you can.”

  The man in charge told his team to search the house again. Thoroughly. After they stomped off, he said, “You know more than you are saying. I know the boss likes getting free gardening services and that’s why you get to squat here. I don’t care. There was something that crashed close to this house—and I think you heard it. Tell me where it is.”

  “You asked me the same question earlier, and my answer has not changed. I do not pay much attention to loud noises. You and your men are constantly having target practice.”

  This fact seemed to give the man something to consider. The thumps and bangs of people opening doors and moving furn
iture in the other parts of the house filtered down to the wine cellar. For a while, the conversation between Adar and the security man stopped.

  The object of the search waited for what seemed like an eternity, their knees beginning to cramp from crouching. The searchers walked around and across the covering hiding the hatch. Not one thought to look under the thick area rug.

  When the searchers gave up and returned to the door to report their failure, there was a loud crash, and a barely contained angry voice spoke. “It’s a drone like a quadcopter. My boss expects me to find this thing and bring it back.”

  The two hiding below heard a thud and a gasp, and the man screamed, “Tell me what you did with it!”

  “I am sorry, sir, I do not know of any such craft.”

  There was a dull thump, and Jim imagined Adar being let go and sliding down the wall to the floor. In a threatening voice the man said, “Trust me, if I find out you are lying, I’ll be back.”

  The head of security and his men left the house. The door slammed, and the footsteps and voices faded to silence. It was a long ten minutes before Adar opened the hatch.

  ****

  While hiding in the cellar, the two humans tried convincing Vincent they needed to be honest with their benefactor. His help, if recruited, could be substantial.

  Jim pressed his point. “We don’t know for sure if the machine is even here, much less where. We need his assistance, and I can’t get that if I lie. When I try to lie, people can tell.”

  Vincent attempted to research their host and learned little. “I cannot find any information on him other than he is originally from Syria. We know almost nothing about him. I am disappointed with your global information system. The network is neither thorough nor efficient.”

  Claire agreed with Jim, with one exception, “Before we say too much, we should try and learn what kind of person he is.” Vincent liked the idea.

  They gathered before the fireplace, with fresh cups of tea. Adar waited patiently for an explanation until Jim began the conversation. “Before I can let you in on our secret, I need to know more about you.”

  Adar nodded, he was used to this type of treatment. “I am sixty years of age, and my story is a long one. However, I can make it shorter by saying I am from Syria and was forced to leave because of the civil war. They killed my family, and I fled. After a long and difficult journey, I eventually ended up here.”

  He was not entirely sure his visitors were sane. However, he decided a few details wouldn’t hurt. “This home belongs to Mister Smith, who allows me to live here in exchange for being the house caretaker and providing gardening for the estate. I do not know Mister Smith well. He says little to me except for my required duties. However, I have heard some worrisome things about him from his employees.”

  “Is that why you helped us?”

  “I aided you because I am a decent man, and because of snippets of conversations I overheard while performing my gardening duties. Mister Smith wants to capture the object you possess for some unknown purpose. He seems very determined.”

  Vincent whispered in Jim’s ear, “His vital parameters indicate he believes what he says. There is an eighty-five percent chance he will assist as opposed to reporting us. I will leave the decision to you.”

  Jim glanced at Claire, who was unaware of Vincent’s conclusions. She knew what he wanted, and gave him a silent nod. He took a leap of faith and hoped for the best. “What we have is a starship…from another world.”

  Jim told him the story of Vincent, and how he and Claire became involved. Claire pitched in from time to time and added her experiences. Adar listened without interruption and an unreadable expression. As the story progressed, he became increasingly wary of the two strangers in his living room.

  When Adar heard enough, he asked, “Do you realize how you sound? I should throw you and whatever-it-is out the door and call Mister Smith. I want no part of this crazy flight of fantasy.”

  Claire grabbed Jim’s hand and suggested, “We have to show him. Seeing is believing. I didn’t believe at first either.”

  “The shrink ray was damaged, and Vincent is using all his resources to repair the damage. He can’t shrink us yet,” replied Jim.

  He needed something compelling as proof. There has to be a way. An idea popped into his head. “I know how to convince you.”

  Jim removed the badge from his shirt and handed it to Adar. “Place this on your shirt and say hello to Vincent.”

  Adar stared for a moment at the little device. “He speaks through this?”

  “Yeah, it’s how we communicate when we’re not on-board.”

  Vincent was already speaking when he stuck the device to his chest, “…for helping us. The people you rescued are being truthful, and we mean you no harm.”

  “Who is this?”

  “I am the spacecraft in your wine cellar.”

  Adar was surprised and skeptical. He wanted to know more. “What do you want of me?”

  “My highest priority is to be taken outside. Sunlight will greatly enhance my regeneration process.”

  Adar was still unsure. He slowly leaned down for his cup and took a sip, using the time to formulate a response. “How do I know what you say is true?”

  “The man who questioned you so forcefully has a three-day beard and brown hair cut short. The badge on your shirt sends information to me. While you wear it, I can see and hear whatever you do. The two humans sitting on the couch next to you sharing your tea are being truthful. We require your assistance.”

  His face showed little of the uncertainty in his mind. Adar handed the device back to Jim and replied rather casually, “He wants us to take him outside. He needs the sunshine.”

  “We can’t do that right now,” Claire pointed out. “They are still searching.”

  Jim looked around the room and spotted a large mirror in a corner. He pointed it out and said, “Can we borrow that? I have an idea.”

  Adar immediately realized Jim’s intent and replied, “Yes, of course. An excellent idea. We must hurry though; the sun will be setting soon.”

  ****

  They used the mirror to redirect sunlight from a window down onto the spaceship, and the three of them positioned Vincent under the light. When the sun set a few hours’ later, portions of the damaged sections were beginning to reform. The damage that brought the ship down was slowly disappearing.

  When the sun set, they pulled the curtains across the windows and left the house dark. Outside, flashlights swept the landscape, radios squawked, and the search for the intruders continued.

  “He can make you small enough to go inside the ship?” asked a disbelieving Adar.

  “I know it’s hard to believe, but—yes,” answered Jim.

  “It sounds like magic. I do not see how what you say can be possible.”

  Claire volunteered, “We’ll show you. When he finishes repairing himself, we can go for a ride.”

  A crooked smile formed on Adar’s face. “I would love to see the inside. We can really do that?”

  Claire and Jim assured him it was possible. Jim went further, “Technology beyond our understanding looks to us like magic. To the person that understands, it’s just advanced science.”

  Their host prepared dinner, and they ate and talked in the darkened living room.

  “Jack Smith is somewhat of a mystery,” said Adar. “I came here with nothing, washed up from the sea. The boat I bought was not as seaworthy as I was told and sank two miles out. That is a swim I do not wish to repeat.”

  He paused, and his eyes grew distant. When he continued, his voice was less carefree. “It is a long story. Anyway, Mister Smith was not interested in my story, and instead suggested I live here in exchange for taking care of the house and the grounds. I am an undocumented Syrian Jew alone in a strange land, so his offer struck me as quite generous.

  “I have lived here for two years, and his requirements keep increasing. Now I work six days a week fulfilling my duties.
You were lucky to arrive on my day off, or I would not have been here to help.”

  “What do you know about the house—the big house,” asked Jim.

  “It is a magnificent home with many rooms. Mister Smith requires me to visit once a week and receive my assignments, but I have only been allowed into the great room on the first floor. However, there is an elevator on the second floor I have never seen anybody use it.”

  “Is there a place to enter a code on the elevator?”

  “I believe so. The lift doors are a good distance away, and I haven’t been allowed very close. It is possible I could find the code written down somewhere. Mister Smith has an office with a big desk,” suggested Adar.

  Claire objected, “We can’t ask you to do that. We have already put you in danger.”

  Adar’s response helped them understand why he had come to their aid. “While fulfilling my duties, I overhear things. I don’t believe the men talking are kept fully informed. Still, they know enough to make me concerned. Mister Smith has big plans that will affect many people, and my fears are confirmed by what you have told me. I consider it my duty to help.”

  Vincent startled Jim—who had momentarily forgotten he was monitoring—when he suggested, “We can deploy a surveillance drone. I have an autonomous craft onboard in a minimized state. If we send it out without resizing, the drone will be the size of a small bug, and able to infiltrate the primary residence with a low risk of detention. We can also use it to gather data on the interior. It is possible we can determine the location of the machine.”

  Claire and Adar did not hear Vincent’s suggestion, and Jim’s sudden grin puzzled his companions. He explained, “Vincent has a tiny drone. He tells me we can use it to gather information about what’s in the house. I like that a lot more than Adar risking his neck or us sneaking in and searching around in the dark.”