Animus Intercept

by Lawrence Ambrose

  "Good for her."

  "He comes across as an asshole, to be honest." Zeke smiled at him. "Don't think he's all that thrilled about having a reminder of Tyler's dad hanging around. Val indicated that he was hoping to raise him as his own."

  "Great."

  "But Nibiru or Planet X – that's what they're calling it, by the way, not 'Animus.'"

  "I know."

  "Anyway, Planet X/Animus has raised a big question mark about who's gonna be around to raise who, hasn't it? I mean, governments around the world have been soft-pedaling it to the general public since the beginning – "it's gonna cause some serious damage, sure, but we'll be okay, just stay stocked up on food and water and wait it out" – but the truth is a helluva lot worse, isn't it?"

  "Yeah. Command is projecting around five billion deaths."

  His dad whistled. "Jesus. The official government estimates have been ranging from 5 – 10 million."

  "And it could've been a lot worse. The superluminal backwash from the Journeyer reduced Animus's mass to about a fourth of what it was. That saved a few billion lives and knocked it back from an extinction-level event."

  "Doesn't sound like you failed to me, son."

  "Nothing to do with me, Dad. Command sent the Journeyer in remotely. We were just spectators."

  "Right. Well..." Zeke seemed at a loss.

  "Anyhow, what I was getting to, Dad... Space Command and certain other government officials – along with influential personages from the private sector – will be allowed to bring immediate family with them into the National Underground Complex. The allocations vary, depending on the person's ranking - I don't know much about their formula, but I'm sure it's basically about money and power - but I'm told I can choose three people to take with me."

  His dad nodded. "I figured that."

  "It goes without saying that you're on my list."

  Zeke Cameron leaned back and surveyed the frost-covered mountains looming over his back patio. "I wonder how much of my view will change after Animus passes by."

  "I'm guessing not much. From what I've heard, the earth and ocean will heave around a bit but settle down fine afterward. The people and their buildings aren't quite as durable."

  "You'll be inviting your ex-wife and son?"

  "I thought I would. I can't see separating him from his mother."

  "I can't see Val wanting to be separated from her new love."

  Zane grimaced. "Too bad about that."

  "Right." His father's grin drifted away. "Still, doesn't seem right hiding out drinking beer and playing golf underground – did you know that NUC actually has golf courses? - while the rest of humanity gets stomped."

  "Come on, Dad." Zane felt a trickle of fear. His dad was such a hard-ass he just might decide to tough it out. "You staying up here isn't going to help anyone."

  "Not sure about that. I have survival skills my neighbors and friends don't. Also a bomb shelter below my basement that could handle a fair number of people."

  Zane frowned. He'd always thought his dad sinking one hundred grand into a survival room was the height of paranoia. Turned out not so much.

  "So let them use your bomb shelter and the food and water you've squirreled away down there. Your good deed for humanity. But come with me."

  "I'll think about it, son."

  "Maybe I should stay up here with you?"

  Zeke waved his finger at him. "Don't play that game with me, boy. You're going underground where you belong. Unlike me and most of the rear echelon paper-pushers and power-brokers parasites, you earned your place down there. You and Horace and your teams more than anyone."

  Zane decided to drop it for now. He knew better than to push his pigheaded dad. He had some time to work on him.

  "I expect you'll want to see your boy," said Zeke. "I can break it to your ex, if that would help. Get her used to the idea before you talk to her."

  Zane finished his fourth tumbler of rum, half-tempted to take his father up on that offer. His ex-wife was more the stoical type, not prone to emotional outbursts, but this might be the exception. He wasn't sure if he was more afraid of waterworks or of her not caring enough to show much emotion at all. He still wanted to believe she had some form of space in her heart for him.

  "Thanks for the thought, Dad, but I'll call her."

  A BEAUTIFUL sunny April afternoon in San Diego's Palisades Park. But then wasn't it always a beautiful, sunny day in San Diego? Zane thought, with a sharp twinge of bitterness. He and Valerie had walked on this very beach and enjoyed picnic lunches many times during their dating period. He'd left her in their beautiful beachside home two years ago when they'd agreed on a trial separation. He missed the ocean and their house. A house that would soon be under water.

  Zane sat on a bench across from a children's playground, replaying their phone conversation in his head. When he'd greeted her she'd gone silent. Not a word for twenty or thirty seconds. He imagined her covering the receiver and sobbing. Or maybe she was too pissed to speak. But when she came back on her voice held only a slight quaver as she asked: "Where have you been, Zane?"

  "Not somewhere I could contact you."

  "I assumed that. You're okay, then?"

  "Yes. And you?"

  "Yes." More seconds passed. "Zane...there's something you should know."

  "I spoke to my father. He gave me the news about Tyler."

  Zane broke off his replay as Valerie strolled up with a bucket in one hand and a blond-haired toddler tugging on the other. Her expression was taut and dark, emphasized by the heavy makeup around her eyes – a rarity for her.

  "Hello, Zane," she said.

  "Hey."

  "Let me get Tyler started on something."

  Valerie led the boy to the sandy playground and unloaded the bucket with its tiny shovel. She got him started with the shovel, and he was off to the races, filling the bucket.

  Zane rose from the bench as she walked back. They stood facing each other, Valerie's jaw working. He knew how much she hated losing control. He guessed he was about one lip quiver or eye twitch from losing it himself. If he gazed past her and focused on their son, he knew he'd never be able to hold it together.

  Valerie held out her arms. He stepped into them and they enfolded each other in a stiff embrace.

  "I couldn't believe it when you called," she said. "I was sure it was some kind of terrible prank."

  "I'm sorry. I couldn't think of any way to make that better."

  "I'm glad you're back."

  "I wish it could've been a lot sooner."

  They broke apart. Zane lowered himself to the bench and she sat beside him. His eyes were drawn irresistibly to the boy.

  "I had blond hair when I was a kid," he said.

  "I know. There are times when I look into his eyes..." She coughed into her hand, turning away from him toward the ocean.

  "After all those years of trying." Zane stopped the groan on his lips. "That it would finally happen now."

  "It happened about two and a half years ago."

  He glanced at her. She was staring at her son, too, smiling faintly. Her elegant profile with her high cheeks, clean jaw line, and long, straight nose. No longer his to admire.

  "Right," he said. "And to think I always regretted that night."

  "You did?"

  "Didn't you?" He frowned at her. "Isn't that what you said at the time? How we'd been dumb and irresponsible to give in to our loneliness?"

  "I was just pissed off."

  "About what? You were the one who left me."

  "But you didn't fight for me, did you?"

  Her words boomed through Zane like the sonic thunder of the SHE rounds departing the Cheyenne back on Animus. Could he have been so stupid as to let her walk away when he could've stopped her? Had that truly been possible?

  "If I had..."

  Valerie shook her head in dismissal. "Too late to talk of that."

  "Is it?"

  She lowered her gaze and set her jaw. "Ye
s."

  "But isn't that what you said then?" Her oft-repeated denial then that they had anything to talk about still rang in his ears.

  She laid her hands out on her legs, still as shapely as ever despite her motherhood. She still jogged regularly, that was obvious. Longing welled in him, so strong it made him close his eyes.

  "Your logic doesn't always have the answers," she said. "Are you going to tell me what happened, or will that remain a secret forever as usual?"

  Zane had already devoted some thought to that, but without any clear resolution. But surely he had the right, perhaps even the duty, to tell her something, regulations be damned.

  "I was on a mission."

  "Can you tell me what? Just the very basics? I think I deserve that."

  The moment of decision. He hadn't been sure what he would do until this exact moment.

  "If I tell you something," he said, "I need you to understand that I'm giving you classified information, and that's a crime for which I could be severely punished."

  "Yes. Of course I understand that."

  "Don't say that lightly, Valerie. I need your solemn oath." He paused. "You must swear never to tell anyone. Not your mom, your best friend, or anyone else. No one else, including your new boyfriend. Do you understand?"

  "I understand."

  "Swear on the life of our son."

  "That's really necessary?"

  "It really is."

  "Then..." She swallowed two times. "Yes, I agree. I swear on the life of Tyler never to tell anyone."

  "Okay." Zane squared his shoulders. "I was trying to stop something."

  "What?"

  He pointed toward the western sky over the ocean, where the sun was beginning its descent.

  "My God... You mean, Planet X?"

  Zane nodded.

  "You were trying to knock it off course or something?"

  Zane smiled, noting that she hadn't shown any surprise at all. Maybe she knew more about his career than she'd let on.

  "Something like that. We managed to destroy part of it, but that was all."

  "Do you know how bad it's going to be?" She turned to face him. "Worse than they're saying, am I right?"

  "Much worse."

  He heard her sharp intake of breath, and for a moment regretted his decision to be more forthcoming.

  "There are some places underground run by Space Command and the Government which should be safe," he said. "I'm authorized to stay there during the peak of the planet's effects, and am allowed three guests. I'd like you and Tyler to come stay with me."

  "Stay with you?"

  "Well, stay in the underground complex, not necessarily sharing quarters. I'm not sure where they'll put us. But you'd be safe."

  "Just how bad is it supposed to get?"

  Zane wasn't sure how far to go in elaborating on the predicted disasters.

  "Where we're sitting now will be under water," he said. "In fact, much of California will be under water, at least temporarily, as a result of tidal waves."

  "Are you serious?"

  "That's the prediction."

  Valerie was hugging herself despite the seventy-two degrees. "I have a house here. A life."

  "I know. A lot of people do."

  "Tyler!" she called out sternly, startling Zane. "Stop spraying sand everywhere, please."

  The little boy dialed down his frantic shoveling. He seemed to be constructing a small house in the sand, his small face a mask of concentration. Zane recalled his few abortive attempts at sand sculpture while growing up in Santa Monica. Judging from the tower taking shape in his pudgy little hands, Zane guessed he'd inherited some of his mother's artistic talents – painting being a serious hobby of hers while seeking downtime from attorney work.

  "Everyone's been worrying about Planet X," she said in a raspy near-whisper, as if concerned that one of the people around them might hear. "Of course, the usual doomsayers and nutcases proclaim it's the fulfillment of an ancient prophesy or part of a Sumerian cycle of death and rebirth or whatever, but scientists and government officials have been assuring us it won't be that bad. Some serious damage will occur, but the majority of us will come through it just fine."

  "They're just doing their job. Imagine what would happen if they told the truth."

  "What is the truth, Zane? Please stop speaking in generalities. How many casualties are we talking about?"

  "Sixty-five percent."

  "Sixty-five percent...of what?" Her eyebrows squeezed together as she faced him. "You don't mean the whole human race, do you?"

  Zane took a moment to clear his throat. "Yes. Unfortunately."

  "You're saying more than half of the people on this planet will die?"

  "Valerie...would you mind lowering your voice?"

  Some people nearby had stopped practicing yoga on the grass to stare at them. Zane wondered if they were just responding to her tone or had actually heard her. Nothing like a few billion people dying to get you out of your meditative zone, he thought.

  "Okay," she said, breathing out. "Sorry. This is all a bit hard to take in." She drew in and released another breath. "First you being alive and now this."

  "Yeah. I can only imagine." Zane tried on a smile. "I've had a shock or two myself."

  Valerie lowered her gaze to her clenched hands. "So Zeke told you about Mark."

  "Your boyfriend?"

  "Yes. Though, to be honest, it's more than that."

  "So I heard."

  "You and I got divorced, Zane, and I moved on. I know you had some hopes of getting back together, but even if you hadn't been missing for three years – even with Tyler in our lives – I don't see that happening. Your lifestyle just doesn't work for me. And I don't see how being a father would work for you."

  "Obviously, I would've changed a few things if I'd known you were pregnant."

  "Is it obvious? I don't recall you saying you'd quit Space Command when I was pregnant."

  "I would've made staying home more a condition of my continued employment. I believe I did mention that at the time." Zane's phrasing grew more clipped with each word.

  "Making those kinds of conditions would've short-circuited your career. USSC only promotes people they know they own them. You would've been dead in the water – something you also said at that time when you were being honest."

  Zane gripped the side of the bench, longing for an easy opponent - like a Zikkzu warrior.

  "My bosses at Wilkins and Straub weren't too fond of my being a single mom, either," she continued in a gentler voice. "Having a young child has definitely stalled my 'upward mobility.' But it's a price I was willing to pay. I don't believe you could say the same, Zane. You loved your job more than you could ever love me or even your child."

  "Bullshit." But even to his own ears his objection sounded feeble. He cleared his throat. "Do you love him?"

  She hesitated before nodding gravely. "Yes. I'm sorry, Zane."

  Zane watched his son, who was fashioning a pointed roof for his tower. A final, firming tap of his plastic shovel toppled it. Tyler let out a heart-rending sob. Before Zane knew what he was doing he was marching across the grass and dropping down beside the grieving boy.

  "It's okay," he said. "We can fix it."

  For a time Zane forgot the end of the world and his ex-wife's new love and focused solely on helping his son reassemble his castle – with a few added flourishes.

  "See, good as new." Zane held out his hand. "I'm Zane."

  The boy extended his hand cautiously, their fingers meeting and intertwining.

  "Tyler," he said.

  "Nice to meet you."

  Zane gave the meaty little hand a soft squeeze. That was when he noticed Valerie standing behind him, arms folded, a reluctant smile creating a fissure in her solemn expression.

  "Need to use the potty?" she asked their son.

  "No. Not yet."

  Zane rose, brushing off his jeans. They returned to the bench.

  "I think he has so
me of your artistic ability," Zane said.

  "It's a little early to tell." But she was smiling. "From what I've seen, he could have many abilities." Her smile slipped downward. "I just hope he finds something that fulfills him."

  Zane considered asking her if she'd found that working for Wilkins and Straub, but decided he didn't want to go there.

  "But then I'm forgetting that more than half the world is going to die," she said. "Not exactly the bright future I was planning on."

  "He can have a bright future. So can you."

  "If we go with you into your underground kingdom?"

  "You say that as if you have a choice, Valerie."

  "Can I bring Mark?"

  Zane stared at his son, using him as calming point – a tether on the anger rising in him. He tried to put himself in her place, but that defeated his powers of empathy.

  "Val..."

  "So you expect me to leave him behind?"

  "I can take only so many people."

  "How many people, exactly?"

  "Three."

  Zane nodded.

  "Is your dad coming?"

  "I don't know. He has some silly notion he should stay behind and help his friends and neighbors."

  "So you might have space for one more."

  "Yes. But it's not going to be your boyfriend."

  "My fiancé, to be precise. He proposed seven weeks ago, and I accepted." She made a choking sound. "He's a good man, Zane."

  "Congratulations."

  The only thing stopping Zane from getting up and walking away was playing in the sand a few meters from them.

  "If what you're saying is true, he's as good as dead if he stays behind here."

  Zane said nothing. He hadn't expected Valerie to be happy about any of this – particularly leaving her new love behind – but he hadn't expected this much resistance, either. Nor had he given much thought to the possibility that she might warn her "fiancé" or someone else about what was coming.

  "What did you expect me to do with this information, Zane? I'm supposed to just hide away while my family, my friends - Mark - die?"

  "You just swore a solemn oath, Val."

  "And a promise is more important than their lives?"

  "And you wonder why I never shared classified stuff with you."