Chapter Six
A river of people was snaking its way into the planetarium while a contingent of officers stood guard. The bustle of the crowd was intermittently broken by a sergeant using a megaphone to remind the visitors not to push.
The atmosphere inside the viewing auditorium was electrified as visitors were herded through velvet roped columns to the meteorite. The orderly procession was suddenly upset when a couple passing the meteorite tried to mount the stage. Three police officers rushed the couple, succeeding in keeping them from touching the meteorite. The auditorium doors were slammed shut and the exhibit hall immediately went into lockdown as the couple was handcuffed.
Before they reopened access to the meteorite, the sergeant announced over a loudspeaker, “Any attempts to mount the stage or the exhibit—or any disorderly behavior—will not be tolerated. Violators will not only be arrested, but any breaches in security will result in the exhibition being shut down. Again, we will not tolerate any unruly conduct. If you act disorderly, you will be arrested and prosecuted and the exhibition will be closed. Please remain patient. The hall will reopen as soon as additional officers arrive.”
Fifteen tense minutes passed until a dozen officers squeezed their way into Adler. The sergeant directed them to observation posts and announced the reopening of the exhibit.
The procession filed by the meteorite, which some were now calling Remedy, in an orderly fashion for a half an hour. Then a father carrying his paralyzed son slid his son onto the stage.
Police rushed the father and threw him to the ground as the son cried for his daddy. Two officers slammed the doors to the hall shut and the place went into lockdown again. A squad of officers cleared visitors from the hall as the sergeant grabbed the microphone and announced the closure of the exhibit.
The crowd outside the planetarium surged when told they would not get to visit the meteorite and began pounding the doors. Grabbing two officers, the sergeant approached the entrance and ordered the officers to unholster their weapons.
The sergeant then raised his gun and pointed it in the air. The throng fell back, allowing the officers to get outside. The officer in charge shouted at the crowd to retreat and vacate the area. Jeering in response, the crowd took a collective step toward the doors. Suddenly, the sergeant fired four warning shots into the air, stopping the crowd’s advance.
An uneasy truce unfolded as a hundred uniformed officers cleared and secured the plaza. A line of officers and barricades went up on Adler’s perimeter as a directive came down from city hall, mandating the meteorite be moved to Northwestern University.
The mayor wanted the business district cleared, and Northwestern’s experience handling super-sized football crowds made it an uncontested choice.
Jack, dually electrified by the danger the crowd had posed and by the power of the meteorite, had walked with Laura back to their hotel. He had received an assurance from Ricci that the meteorite was protected, and if any threat to it was detected, he’d be called. Laura went up to shower as Jack surveyed the take-away dinner options in the lobby’s gift shop. As he dug out a chicken club and a turkey wrap, his cell phone rang.
“Jack, it’s Dr. Ricci, they’re moving the meteorite to Northwestern’s Evanston Campus.”
“When?”
“Right after midnight.”
Jack hustled back upstairs and burst into the room, putting a phone to his ear.
“Hurry up, Lori, they’re gonna be moving the meteorite.”
“Grams, it’s me.”
Laura had a towel around her and dropped it to the floor, pointing to the bed. As she slid between the sheets, Jack continued talking.
“Yeah, everything’s all right. Look, Grams, I’d really like it if you could come on out to Chicago for a couple of days.”
His grandmother said, “Chicago? I don’t think so.”
Jack put his hand over the phone.
“We gotta get going. They’re moving the meteorite tonight.”
Laura pouted.
“Are you sure everything’s okay, John John?”
This time the reference to JFK Jr. didn’t rile him.
“Yes, it’s just . . . listen, Grams, I know this is gonna sound crazy.”
Jack explained that the speculation his articles had made about a connection between the meteorite and a cure for death looked to be true. Since he had access to the meteorite, he wanted her to derive the benefit others had reaped before access was curtailed or it somehow lost its powers. Jack’s grandmother listened intently, but Jack knew she didn’t believe a single word. She promised to consider it as they hung up.
Laura pulled a sweater over her head.
“She coming out?”
“Nah, she’s being nice, but I know she thinks this is a bunch of hocus-pocus. She just doesn’t understand what’s going on.”
“Can you blame her? I mean, it is crazy.”
“I guess it seems that way, but if anything happens to her . . .”
“Don’t worry, she’ll come around when the news spreads.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. By then it’ll be pandemonium. You ready?”
“Where’s the meteorite going?”
“Right where I went to school, Northwestern’s Evanston Campus. This is tailor-made for me. I’ve got a ton of contacts up there. Let’s get moving.”
***
Three police cars pulled away from Adler’s service entrance, leading the van that held the meteorite. Jack watched the procession as it moved onto the road circling the planetarium’s plaza. About halfway through the plaza, the police cars’ strobe lights flashed on, casting the square and a few hundred people milling around in a colorful but cautionary ether. Jack shifted positions and watched the caravan slowly circle past Soldier Field and onto Lake Shore Drive.
After five minutes, the couple’s Uber car arrived and they headed for Northwestern University. They exited the complex and crawled along Lake Shore Drive onto Route 90.
The going was slow on Route 90, and at the Eisenhower Expressway interchange they came to a dead stop.
Jack leaned forward. “What’s going on?”
“Not sure. Must be a couple of bad accidents.” The driver pointed at the navigation screen. “Everything’s all red.”
“Geez, it’s the middle of the night!”
Lisa put her hand on Jack’s knee. “Take it easy, honey. It’ll clear up.”
Drivers began to get out of their cars as the Uber driver finished a call.
“There’s police activity ahead. They’re saying crowds of people are on the highway heading our way.”
***
“Get the mayor on the line.”
“Are you sure, sir? It’s almost one in the morning.”
“Of course I’m sure! Use the frigging red line. There’s no time to waste.”
“Hold on.”
“Your Honor, the commissioner would like to speak with you.”
“What the hell’s going on, Ray? It’s the middle of night, for Christ’s sake.”
“It’s the meteorite.”
“I thought you had things handled.”
“We got things quieted down at Adler, but on the move to Northwestern, the caravan encountered a crowd of thousands on Route 90.”
“On the highway? Are you kidding me?”
“This could get out of control very quickly, Your Honor.”
“Plan, give me a plan, Ray.”
“I’m pulling it back to Adler. We don’t have the resources to effectively contain civil unrest—”
“Civil unrest?”
“No one can predict how this is gonna play out, sir.”
“What do you need to keep this under control?”
“The National Guard.”
“Oh, come on, you want me to get the governor involved? You want me to go to White to bail the city out? Do you know what the press is gonna do with that?”
“I understand it’s touchy—”
“Touchy?
He steps in and my career is over. And you? Ray, you’ll be finished, working in the suburbs.”
“Can you authorize unlimited overtime? I’ll get every available officer to report for duty and put a contingent up at Northwestern. Thing is, I’ll need you to allow me to shut down Route 90.”
“Shut down 90?”
“It’s the middle of night. I’ll post two cars blocking entrance ramps, and as we move along we’ll reopen it.”
“I don’t like the way this is going to look. Inconvenience the working stiff for a damn meteorite?”
“Your Honor, the other way to handle this is to surround Adler with a strong force. Given its location on the river, it’s relatively easy to secure.”
“About time, Ray, now that’s a good plan. What are the downsides?”
“Well, for one, its proximity to downtown. We’d have to close Lake Shore Drive, and the financial district will come to a halt. No way in or out. It will be a nightmare for anyone working or living there, and if the area gets flooded with people coming down to Adler like it’s been, who knows what can happen?”
The mayor sighed. “All right, all right already. Get this damn rock up to Evanston and make sure it’s secure up there.”
“Will do, sir.”
“And Ray, keep the damn riot gear out of sight unless necessary, and I mean absolutely necessary. You hear me? I don’t want to pick up the Trib in the morning and see my city portrayed as a war zone.”
Chapter Seven
The Fox News broadcast was picked up by the other networks, and Jack’s cell phone buzzed with interview requests as they made their way to Northwestern. The Uber turned onto Sheridan Road, which ran through the heart of the expansive campus. The university’s green lawns were lit like football fields but were eerily quiet.
They pulled up to Kresge Hall, an L-shaped building in the process of receiving the meteorite. After it was settled in, the couple decided to grab some much-needed rest.
At the break of dawn, Jack and Laura were napping in Kresge’s lobby when they were awakened by a pair of police officers unlocking the building’s doors.
They hurried to the windows as a motorcade of black limos pulled up. As the occupants climbed out, Jack said, “That’s the governor and his family. What a hypocrite. He was on NBC earlier telling everyone the meteorite was unproven and that there was an explanation for all of this.”
“Yeah, well he’s sure hedging his bets. Who are the others?”
“Probably family and friends.”
“Look, there’s two more cars coming.”
Jack saw two black Escalades pull up.
“It’s the mayor and his family.”
The couple stood to the side as the groups were whisked through the lobby and into the viewing hall.
Laura nudged Jack with an elbow. “The life of the privileged class.”
“I’ve got half a mind to write a story on this. Who do these guys think they are, anyway?”
***
By ten in the morning, a mob, estimated to be in the tens of thousands, had assembled at Northwestern University. A quarter of Chicago’s finest was deployed, keeping an orderly line moving to view the meteorite.
Multiple reports confirming the dwindling number of natural deaths in Chicago had made their way into the national media, swelling the crowds. As the first day of viewing wore on, national TV anchors had set up camp, and Kresge’s parking lot looked like a used car lot for camera vans.
When he visited the meteorite, Northwestern’s president became alarmed by the huge crowds and police presence on his campus. He quickly convened a teleconference with the university’s board of directors, and they agreed to suspend classes until things quieted down to ensure the safety of students and faculty. It was the cautious approach to take, as the crowd was building by the hour.
***
Garland stepped into the Oval Office and waited as the president finished his phone call.
“Sorry I’m late, sir, but that was the last probate hearing.”
“How are you handling things?”
“Pretty good, but I’m not gonna lie, it’s been tougher than I thought.”
“Losing a parent is always difficult, but losing one right after another like you . . .”
“I appreciate your concern, sir. I’ll be fine.”
The president said, “I’m sure you will, but if you need something, you let me know. Now, what about Blumenthal?”
“He’s steeping down. A press conference is scheduled for one.”
“Good. The badgering from the press should die down.”
Garland nodded. “Give it a couple days.”
“All right then, I’ll see you this afternoon in the Rose Garden. What time is that?”
“One thirty. But I have another item for you.”
Baxter sighed, “What now?”
“This meteorite thing is gathering steam.”
“Are people that stupid to believe some rock from space has the secret to eternal life?”
“I’d like to think they’re clamoring for proof of a higher power.”
President Baxter ran a hand through his silver hair. “This is nonsense.”
“That was my feeling, but I’ve got to let you know we’re keeping tabs, and natural deaths are plummeting in the Chicago area.”
“People are extrapolating here. I can see how this can quickly spiral out of control.”
“Indeed, up at Northwestern, the crowds are close to overwhelming the Chicago police force’s ability to keep order.”
The president pointed his finger in the air. “Order must be maintained at all costs. How can we assist?”
“Governor White is about to call in the National Guard. It’d be a sign of your commitment if you gave your approval.”
“I don’t like the way that’ll play on the news, but it does seem like the right move to ensure the safety and well-being of the citizenry. Do we have to make a statement? I don’t want to box myself in.”
“On the one hand, we should, but the more troubling aspect is the highways from Indiana and Iowa are jammed with cars headed in Northwestern’s direction, and the governor told me he’s going to close the borders to anyone not living or working in Illinois.”
“That’s ridiculous. He can’t do that, can he?”
“I’m afraid so. He intends to post the guard at all highways crossing into the state.”
“What’re you thinking, Pete?”
“The way I’m seeing it, bottom line is, if this death quirk continues any longer, we’ll have to step in.”
“We gotta stay ahead of this.”
“Leave it to me, sir. It’s on the top of my list.”
***
Jack was editing his latest article when his phone rang.
“Hey, Jack, I don’t usually make these types of calls, but you said you had something. If you do, you better move it, the deadline’s biting.”
“I’m running one last edit, Manny.”
“Great. I’ll look for it.”
“Give me five minutes, and it’ll be in your in-box.”
“What’s the lead?”
“As far as I’m concerned, the evidence is irrefutable. Anywhere the meteorite’s been, natural death has stopped. Chi-town’s just the last example, and a big one at that.”
“You’re buying into this mystical power thing, aren’t you?”
“I did a lot of digging and I’m just reporting the facts, nothing more, nothing less.”
“Good, good, that’s the job. But boy, this is the strangest thing I’ve ever seen. I wonder what the connection is.”
“Call it a coincidence of the longest odds or a higher power. In fact, in the article I’ve quoted a head of a Baptist church who’s convinced it’s a message from God.”
“The big Baptist one downtown? I think it’s called Pilgrim.”
“No, the pastor’s from Raleigh. I didn’t think the location mattered with the reach of the Associated Press.”
“Let me finish this.”
“Oh, Jack, before I let you go, I got a tip from a source in Washington. It looks like the Feds might be moving the meteorite to DC.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised, but is this confirmed?”
“No, nothing more than a whisper at this point. Hey, send me that damn article, will ya?”
Jack pondered what he’d just been told and made a quick call. He read through the piece again, inserting a line about the rumor before hitting the send button.
Then he made another call. “Hi Grams. How are you doing today?”
“Hi John John. I’m okay, just watching the news. Your meteorite is all over the TV. I’m so proud of you, but it’s a shame they had to close your college down.”
“It’ll only be for a short while. Hey, listen Grams, me and Laura are going to Washington tomorrow, and it’d be so nice if you could take a trip and meet us there.”
“Why Washington?”
“I’m covering the meteorite story, and it looks like it may be moved to DC, and even if it doesn’t, I can cover the political reaction and what NASA thinks about it.”
“I told you all your hard work would pay off.”
“So what d’ya say?”
“I don’t know. I’m supposed to play mahjong tomorrow and—”
“Oh, come on, Grams, you haven’t seen Laura in over six months, and we could go to the Smithsonian, like when you took me years ago.”
“That was a wonderful trip. You were about ten. We went all over. You were so excited, asking so many questions everywhere we went.”
“I think that was where the first spark about journalism hit me. I remember we saw all those old newspapers and the history they covered. The coverage of Lincoln’s assassination and the investigation that revealed the plot was so powerful.”
“Wonder how things would have been different if he wasn’t killed.”
“Who knows? Look, I’m sending a ticket to you for the Amtrak train tomorrow, and no buts about it. I gotta run, but Laura will call you with the hotel details.”
The Final Enemy Page 4