The Black

by Neil Mosspark

  “Help me up. Let’s go get some air,” his mom commanded as her hand touched his elbow.

  Dave’s face softened as he relaxed his fingers and rose to extend a hand for the matriarch. Her tiny cold fingers grasped his, and she hoisted herself to her feet.

  Shuffling off with his mother, Dave looked over his shoulder at the coffin. He knew he would regret not saying a few words to his sister before he left, even if she couldn’t hear it.

  “I’ll meet you guys at the reception. I just need to say goodbye.” The words choked in his throat, but they understood and continued on. His feet carried him back to her, as though they were controlled by someone else. The moment was surreal to him.

  Standing in front of the coffin the tears, flowed again. He wanted a last hug from her, a memento. A nice goodbye.

  The last time he saw her was at some pool party he made an appearance at, mostly because she had begged him. The crowd was younger, and she had convinced him to come over. Dave had come mostly because he wanted to check on her. Sue had clearly been high. Not spaced-out, but amplified, excited about everything, talking really fast. They had gotten into an argument after he brought up the drugs, and she asked him to leave if he was going to be a wet blanket. He wanted to pull her out of there, take her home. Fix the problem.

  His thick fingers lay on the fine wood of the casket. The cold lacquer gave no comfort.

  “Sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me,” Dave said. His hand pulled away to wipe his face before walking off to the side.

  Turning back, he could see someone take a picture of the casket, then another one with a friend standing next to the casket. A selfie?

  Goddam kids, Dave thought, shaking his head before he disappeared through the door.

  “Remember that time she set her hair on fire?” Scott chuckled, trying to suppress an outright laugh.

  “Yeah, she had to cut her hair so short, right before school on Monday.” Dave nodded, smiling.

  It was good to talk about her. It removed the weight of the moment.

  Both of the boys pulled a beer out of the ice bucket. “I can’t believe that she wanted beer at her funeral.”

  “She was a partier,” Dave said, twisting the top off and tossing it into the garbage. “To the little sister we know… knew.”

  “Cheers.” Scott clinked his brown bottle against Dave’s before the mood became dark.

  Dave looked over the reception room. “Lots of people. I don’t recognize half of them.”

  “Most of them are from the entertainment industry. I recognize a few of the rockers. Maybe a movie producer or two. Not a lot of her real friends, though. She kind of put up a wall after she got famous. I remember her telling me that high school friends kept coming out of the woodwork to ask her if they could get autographs or come visit.”

  “People are weird,” Dave said.

  “Yup.”

  “I gotta piss.” Dave handed his brother the bottle and wandered away to the bathroom.

  His heavy arms pushed the swinging door open, and voices talking inside stopped. As he stepped inside he could see a couple of middle-aged men stand up quickly, white powder on their noses. Each was dressed in expensive suits, matched with earrings and overly styled hair.

  Dave shook his head and gritted his teeth.

  One of the guys sniffled and brushed the dust from his nose, keeping eye contact with Dave. “It’s a celebration of life, man!”

  The other laughed too hard.

  Dave breathed deep, unzipping in front of the urinal and emptying his bladder.

  More laughter behind them as another set of cokeheads wandered in, pleased to see that the party was in the men’s room.

  Dave zipped up.

  The laughter was getting to him now as he shouldered by to wash his hands.

  “Isn’t that what killed Sue?” The words spilled out of him, and the room went silent. “I mean, we are at her funeral, and she died of a drug overdose. Seems a bit disrespectful, don’t you think?”

  He looked at the four men crowded around the next sink as he dried his hands.

  “She bit off more than she could chew,” one of them said, looking at the incomplete line on the counter like a dog waiting for a treat.

  “I’m just curious if whoever got it for her even feels a little responsible.”

  The paper towel dropped to the floor.

  “Go outside, old man, you’re being a buzzkill.”

  Dave could feel the wave of angry heat rising over him. “How about you stop doing lines of coke at Sue’s funeral?”

  There was silence, then one of them leaned down and did the rail through a rolled up hundred-dollar bill. Standing, the tattooed man gritted his teeth before flicking the bill at Dave. “Screw you. You didn’t party with her. You’re not family.”

  Dave strode through the crowd and hammered the man in the side of the jaw with a jab from his right. Cocking his left, he uppercut the next before the look of surprise was able to surface on his face, and after two more right crosses, the others lay in a crumpled pile on the floor.

  Dave shook his head. He didn’t feel any better, and his hands hurt.

  Someone linked an arm around his neck from behind and locked in.

  “Danny, you okay?” Another voice rushed by.

  Dave felt his heart drop as he realized he had gotten suckered by bodyguards; he should have known these kids wouldn’t come without their nursemaids.

  Stepping to the side quickly, he forced himself around behind the man and kicked out the leg, dropping him to the floor. As the man fell, Dave’s arm twisted his attacker’s, rotating the shoulder out of the socket with a sickening crunch.

  The other bodyguard rushed him, striking quickly, catching Dave in the eye, and fireworks erupted. As Dave’s hands instinctively lashed out, they found empty air. These were skilled professionals and wouldn’t be surprised again.

  Another blow to the head sent him reeling backward into someone.

  Pain in his kidneys brought Dave to his knees, and another strike to the head sent him toward the floor as he kneeled.

  Dave stood quickly and lifted his fist into the first man’s jaw, clacking it shut before spinning and catching the second in the side of the head.

  The bodyguards collapsed against the tile, slowly attempting to gain their footing as he stepped over them.

  “Friggin’ cokeheads,” Dave said as he exited the room. There would be safety in the crowd.

  He still didn’t feel any better.

  Outside, he adjusted his jacket and tie, realizing he had blood on his hands, and his face was bleeding from a circular cut under his eye. He could tell that it was already starting to swell. The room was looking at him now. The noise of the scuffle had not been muffled. An absent guard talking to an attractive actress in a black cocktail dress rushed past him to the men’s room to check on one of the man-children that lay groaning on the floor.

  “I’m going to have to ask you to step over here,” a police officer in a dress uniform stated.

  “Who the hell are you?” Dave said, his mouth driving while his brain stayed in neutral. He was still a little amped up.

  “Chief of police. I’m here to pay respects to one of our city’s favourite citizens… and you are?”

  “The guy who just knocked some sense into the cokeheads doing lines at my sister’s funeral.” Dave pointed to the room with his bloody knuckles.

  He could see his brother shaking his head and motioning with his hands to calm down.

  A set of cuffs zipped onto his wrist.

  Too late.

  His mom just tugged on Scott’s arm and turned to walk away.

  Scott looked at Dave and shrugged sadly.

  Chapter 5

  Dave sat at the stainless steel table. Scott and his lawyer were across the table.

  “It doesn’t look like you are going anywhere, Mr. Thompson,” the skinny lawyer stated.

  Dave leaned back. It was his mistake, and he had to
own it. This wasn’t the first time his fists had gotten him into trouble. His bandaged right hand idly touched the swollen left eye. Doubtful it would be the last.

  “This is minor assault. He should be getting bail,” Scott stated. The rocker had turned in his leather jacket for a suit and skinny tie.

  “It is what it is,” Dave said. “I screwed up.”

  “What it is is a string of historical assault charges and a police chief wanting to press this as far as it can go. Apparently one of the kids, who, by the way, now has fewer teeth, was related in some way to the chief.” The lawyer closed his briefcase.

  The three men sat in silence for a moment.

  Dave looked at the surface of the stainless steel table and sighed. “When’s the court date?”

  “A month from now—”

  A knock on the door, and a police officer walked in. “Mr. Thompson, you are free to go. You can pick up your personal belongings up front.”

  The two brothers looked at the lawyer.

  “This isn’t me.” The man shook his head, bewildered.

  They walked toward the front of the police station, past police escorting criminals to cells. It felt good to be moving again.

  He found the small window and signed before the attendant pushed through a small bag with his wallet, phone, and keys.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Scott said, opening the doors to the lobby.

  As the doors opened, Dave could see Tony standing in a suit, talking with the chief. The thin man was flanked by two very serious military men wearing suits. The dark sunglasses, earpieces, and a bulge under the chest pocket inside the suit indicated that they were not messing around.

  Tony shook hands with the chief of police, but the officer’s eyes turned to glare at Dave as he stepped into view. The city’s highest ranking law enforcement officer turned and walked away. His shoulders rose and fell in deep, frustrated breaths.

  Dave walked up to his friend, perplexed. The other larger men in suits and ear microphones didn’t flinch, their eyes always outwards looking for indications of violence toward their charge.

  “That was you?” Dave asked his friend.

  “You need to come with us… right now,” Tony stated. His face was layered with concern and nervousness.

  “Look, man, I appreciate the help but… how did you know?”

  “We came looking for you. There’s a problem at the dig site.”

  “I need a shower and a meal.” Dave shook his head. “My sister has just died. I’m not going back to work.”

  “Dave, I know that Sue has just died. I know that you got into some trouble. The last thing I want right now is to tell these guys that you have to get into the car with me. I don’t have a choice. Please see that. You need to come right now.” The last words were emphasized slowly and with precision.

  Dave knew that voice. It was the “everything has gone wrong” voice.

  “Scott, I’m sorry, man. I gotta go.” He hugged his brother. “Thanks for the help with the lawyer.”

  “Sure, man.” The confused rocker watched his brother walk away, surrounded by the government goons.

  “Out of the frying pan…” the lawyer stated, pausing for a moment, only to turn to his remaining client. “I’ll send you a bill, Scott.”

  Dave and Tony rode on the back bench seat of the black SUV. One SUV followed, while the another pushed through traffic using flashing police lights.

  Dave knew that his old friend wasn’t messing around, but this sort of treatment made him worry.

  “Sign this.” Tony handed Dave thick wad of legal-size paper. On the cover, “Non-disclosure Agreement” was printed in large red letters. Dave’s full name was written at the bottom right-hand corner.

  “I already signed one of these years ago,” Dave said, flipping through.

  “This one’s different. It gives you a higher security clearance, which you will need to go back down into the tunnel.”

  “Why? What’s happened?”

  “Dave, just sign it. I need to tell you everything, and I need to do it right now, and I can’t until you sign that stupid piece of paper.”

  Tony motioned for Dave to take a pen from his outstretched hand.

  Dave feigned a hurt look. “I thought we told each other everything.”

  His friend just waved the heavy metal pen at him. “Sign!”

  Flipping to the back page, he scrawled his name and the date, wondering if he had just signed away his soul to the devil. “Fine. There. I signed. What the hell is going on?”

  Tony sighed and took the paper before leaning back in his seat. “The tunnel collapsed yesterday.”

  “Is everyone okay? Did the field fill the tunnel?” Dave wondered if the crews were okay.

  “Everyone is fine. In fact, no one was in the tunnels—”

  “How? Why?” Dave asked. “Everything was looking really stable. Was it strut twelve? It always looked a little off, but the numbers were right.”

  “No. No. It’s… We have had more of the anomalies lately. The discharges were getting worse. We are close to breaking through, and what makes matters worse is that the tunnel collapsed downward. Something was tunnelling ‘out’ under our tunnel.

  “What?”

  “The tunnel we were digging literally was built over top of another tunnel. It’s pure chance. Whomever it was never got to finish. They were digging it by hand and didn’t get too far. It’s not shielded down there either, so it must have been dangerous in the first place.”

  “Survivors?”

  “We weren’t able to find any bodies at this end, but the new tunnel is collapsed. That’s why we need you to monitor and head up the clearing process. Its most likely a failed attempt by some inexperienced people on the inside. We can’t tell how old it is. I’ve been down there myself and it doesn’t look hazardous, but… the anomalies… they are back, and very different.”

  “Different?”

  “Like insects… small… they follow you. Like flies do. Buzzing around. But they stay in the new tunnel after the discharges. Which is why I think we are close. There’s a lot of pressure from the council to break through right now. There are military teams stacking up and preparing equipment to move inside. This is bigger than either of our jobs now. Like I said, I am truly sorry to have to ask you to go back to work, but we don’t have anyone else on staff who is certified in this, knows the tunnel, and can set explosives without electrical charges.”

  “So why all this secret stuff?”

  “Because we have been receiving transmissions from inside the ‘field’ for the last ten years, and only a few people officially know about it.”

  “What, like an S.O.S.? Is someone asking for help?”

  “No… the techs say it’s more like a wireless network signal. We only have figured out how to decode it in the last three years. The stuff that we have learned… it’s like an encyclopaedia of knowledge about the universe. We have spent three years downloading… And as far as we can tell, we have only just scratched the surface.”

  “So it is aliens,” Dave stated.

  “That’s the most likely cause… there’s more, though.” Tony’s face scrunched up reluctantly.

  “What? Spit it out.”

  “The main reason you signed that non-disclosure agreement is that the Black… it’s killing us. The field, the dome, it’s always been soaking up hydrogen. But lately it’s starting to soak up atmosphere, moisture, and even water from the lake. We think that it is like an event horizon. A black hole. NASA’s engineers say that there’s likely a ship inside with a new type of drive. Its all speculation, but we think that something went wrong, and it crashed here. The field is a protective barrier for it to ‘jump’ between two points. The Earth just got in the way… The problem is that if we don’t shut it off, it will deplete the atmosphere and water in less than our lifetime.”

  “It’s pretty inert. I’ve seen the reports. I’m an engineer, I understand them. We’re fine,” Dave
said.

  “No… no, we are not. Who do you think produces those reports? I see the originals. The real ones are scary. Like doomsday scary. We’ve been scrambling to keep this under wraps, but there are competing organizations that are here illegally trying to get their hands on this information.

  “We caught a team of mercenaries and hackers hired by a corporation. They were set up in one of the abandoned towers inside the outer quarantine zone, running a very sophisticated surveillance operation, listening to the dome. They are not the only ones. Everyone wants a piece of this pie, but if we don’t get inside and shut it down…”

  “Can’t we seal it up?”

  “We thought about burying it to keep it away from the air, but it’s too tall. It literally is almost as tall as the atmosphere. The issue is we think that once it acquires enough hydrogen, it will expand. Imagine a truck that is parked in a parking lot with its front wheels against a curb. If you put it in gear and don’t give it any gas, it sits on the curb, idling. But once you give it enough fuel, it hops the curb and continues on its way. The problem is that we are the fuel. We get consumed when it builds up enough mass. If it leaves the same way it came, it takes a chunk of the planet with it. NASA says that if the sphere builds to a critical mass, it may just continue on the original trip… right through the planet.”

  “What?” Dave shook his head. “That’s not possible.”

  “Think about it. The sphere is force field that soaks up as much hydrogen that it can as it passes through space… and yes, there is hydrogen floating around out there. It uses that as fuel. Something happened, and it crashed here, but the engine is still running. We’ve been monitoring its fuel consumption by how much hydrogen we lose. It’s definitely building up for something. The discharges have gotten more and more frequent. You’ve seen that.”

  “We really need to get inside then,” Dave said, running his hands through his short hair, his face covered in worry.

  Tony nodded. “We need to get in… now…”

  “Why don’t you tell everyone? This is crazy! The guys on the crew you fired would have worked twice as hard if they knew the problem.”