by Seth Patrick
The envelope felt far heavier than its physical weight.
When he’d first heard the rumour about Baseline starting again, the one thing that hadn’t occurred to him was saying goodbye to friends.
*
It was 2 p.m. when Never showed up unannounced at Jonah’s apartment. Jonah was slumped on his couch in T-shirt and pants when the intercom sounded. He lifted his purring cat from his lap and got a look of feline disapproval, then walked to the door.
‘Just checking you’re not dead,’ said Never on the intercom.
‘Subtle,’ said Jonah.
‘As always.’
Jonah buzzed him up. He threw some jeans on in the interim. Since getting home from the confrontation with Blake Torrance – and with whatever had been on Torrance’s shoulder – Jonah had stayed indoors, curtains drawn. The image of the suited man arriving at the scene had stayed with him. The man, and the darkness he carried, making Jonah certain of one thing: the others Torrance had spoken of were very real. How many of them could there be? There was no way to know.
Worse, this second shadow had looked far clearer than Torrance’s. Stronger, Jonah thought.
He’d ignored Never’s calls even though he knew he would eventually have to tell him and Annabel what had happened. It looked like the time had come.
‘Afternoon,’ said Never, peering into Jonah’s gloomy flat like a disappointed parent. ‘Thought I’d come by and kick you out of your bed.’
‘I was already up,’ said Jonah.
‘Arguably,’ said Never. He held out an envelope. ‘I have news.’ Jonah went to take it, but Never snatched it back. ‘Not so fast. You remember what Sam said about them reopening Baseline?’
‘Really?’ said Jonah, smiling when Never gave a nod.
‘Really,’ said Never, looking uneasy. ‘There’s a press conference in an hour or so to announce it. And this is your invite to join the team.’ Jonah lunged forward and grabbed the envelope, then tore it open. ‘I’m supposed to wait until . . .’ said Never, then he shrugged.
It was light on detail, promising more in the days to come, but it was confirmation. The letter was signed by Doctor Stephanie Graves, Head of the Revival Baseline Research Group. He read it again, only then noticing that the offer came with a salary that was more than double his FRS pay. ‘They want a response by tomorrow,’ he said. He looked at Never, confused by the anxious expression on his friend’s face. ‘Why so worried?’ he said. ‘This is better than I could’ve imagined.’
‘Does it say anything about where it’ll be?’
Jonah checked again and shook his head. ‘Nothing. There’s a number to call for queries, but only after the press conference.’
‘I take it by the look on your face you plan to accept?’
‘Of course I do,’ said Jonah. ‘Especially now. There’s something I need to tell you. You and Annabel. Something I’ve been putting off for the last few days. But I think this –’ he brandished the letter – ‘this gives us a way to fight back.’
‘Fight?’ said Never. He scowled. ‘What’s been going on, Jonah?’
Ten minutes later, Jonah’s account of what had gone on in DC had left Never looking ill. ‘Fuck off,’ said Never. ‘Fuck off. You told Annabel any of this?’
‘Not yet,’ said Jonah. ‘How long before you head back to work?’
‘After what you just told me I’m not sure I plan on going back outside.’
‘That was my reaction, too,’ said Jonah.
‘You think these . . . creatures . . . you think they’re something to do with what Andreas brought through?’
‘I think so. What’s been left behind, maybe. In the vision I had when Andreas tried to strangle me, I think I saw something like them. Servants, perhaps. Or disciples. Acolytes.’
‘And there are definitely others?’
‘I only saw one but the way Torrance spoke, there have to be at least a few more of them. It could be dozens.’ Or hundreds, he thought to himself. ‘If that’s true, then I’d guess they would be keen to get into influential positions. Jockeying for power. Baseline reopening is crucial, though. It means we can find out what’s going on.’
‘You think anyone will believe you?’
‘I’m sure Stephanie Graves will listen,’ said Jonah. ‘She’ll have the power to do something about it. These things are physical, at least in part. Somehow I can see them when they’re attached to their host, but they seem to be visible to everyone when they detach. With her help, we can do the research; we’ll be able to learn what they are and defend against them.’
They hunted around the news channels until they found one that was readying broadcast of the press conference. Jonah took his phone and sent Annabel a text. Call me. Need to talk. Now. Given that she usually knew about everything before he did, he expected her to already be watching. He didn’t think she would get back to him right away. If at all. Even so, he held his phone in his hand, hoping.
The picture cut from the wide shot of the conference room and the waiting audience, back to the newscaster. She explained that the press conference was revival related (‘although at this time we have no further details’), and that they would be rejoining it as soon as it started.
After twenty minutes the channel returned to the press conference, starting with the wide shot, then moving in to show only the conference panel. Stephanie Graves was sitting in the centre seat. The seat to her left was empty and in the remaining three sat people Jonah didn’t recognize. Doctor Graves waited for a minute or so; at last she nodded, smiled, and began.
‘Good afternoon,’ she said. ‘My name is Doctor Stephanie Graves. It’s my privilege to announce today the launch of a new research project, to extend the work of the Revival Baseline Research Group. With the support of every side in the revival debate, it will further our knowledge of what revival is, and what it means for us.’ She paused and took a sip of water from the glass in front of her. ‘The research will be carried out on a site generously provided by the project’s key benefactor. The site is self-sufficient and will act as home to the estimated two hundred staff involved, which will include one hundred of the best revivers we can attract to the project.’ The camera pulled back to include the screen behind her, which was now displaying a photograph of a large building in a desert plain. ‘Located in Winnerden Flats, Nevada, the facility features state-of-the-art laboratories, with access to bespoke technologies that will allow us to explore the nature of the most baffling phenomenon known to science.’
‘That’s the place, right?’ said Never, looking uneasy. ‘The Andreas Biotech site you mentioned?’
Jonah nodded, suddenly very nervous, wondering what it meant. He’d thought that the work at Winnerden Flats must have been deeply sensitive for Blake Torrance to be so desperate to protect it, yet this was very, very public.
‘And now,’ said Stephanie Graves, ‘I would like to allow our key benefactor a chance to take us through some of the additional details of the project and its aims.’
She nodded ahead of her, clearly to a person sitting off screen. The picture cut to a shot that encompassed the whole room, viewed from a camera right at the back. Someone in the audience stood at the left side of the front row and made their way around to the empty seat beside Stephanie. The room was suddenly filled with an excited murmur, and as the man took his seat, the picture cut back to a close shot of him.
Jonah stared at the face that appeared on screen. A face that belonged to someone who should be dead, a face he’d watched burn, hair on fire and skin blackening in the flame. Yet there it was, the face now pristine, uninjured.
Smiling.
‘That’s impossible,’ said Never. He looked at Jonah, his expression a mixture of outrage and fear. ‘That’s impossible.’
Feeling numb, Jonah listened to what the impossible face said, not wanting to miss a single word. And as he listened, he sent another text to Annabel.
Three words.
Andreas is alive.
25
Andreas held up a hand and waited for the murmur of the audience to settle. ‘Rumours of my demise –’ he said, then paused as a ripple of laughter spread through the room. He smiled, then his expression grew serious. ‘A year and a half ago, one of my research facilities was targeted by a group of terrorists claiming to be affiliated to the Afterlifers. In the resulting fire many good people died. It has been the official position that I was among the dead. As you can see, that was not true. Luckily, I was not at the facility that night. This good fortune saved my life. However, the security forces that keep our country safe – those who protect us each day without fanfare or glory – advised me that the danger was not gone.’ He paused, and smiled in a reassuring way, a paternal way.
‘But the terrorists behind the attack did not truly represent the beliefs of Afterlifers. Far from it. The Afterlifer cause is an expression of reasonable concern for the use of a power we do not yet understand. It simply counsels caution. I have always taken the position that this caution is unwarranted, but in this great country we are free to disagree. The original Revival Baseline Research Group was brought to a premature end, before the truth about revival could be found. Now it is time for us to put aside our differences and to give full backing to this new venture in understanding. We seek nothing less than the truth about death, and what lies beyond. I believe that the truth is within our grasp. And when we find that truth –’ Andreas paused, held the moment. He knew how to play to an audience. ‘When we find that truth, we will share it with the world. And it will be the most important day in human history.’
The room broke into applause. Andreas smiled, ignoring the shouted questions from gathered journalists.
Looking vaguely shell-shocked, Never turned to Jonah. ‘So,’ he said. ‘Are you still planning on signing up?’
*
After the press conference ended, Jonah went to his PC with Never close behind. He found the attachment to Annabel’s previous mail. ‘This is what Annabel sent me before.’
Shooing Jonah out of the way, Never took the seat and looked through what was there, bringing up the unofficial floor plan showing the original buildings and the rough layout of the extensions.
‘Up until now it’s been a cryogenic storage facility,’ said Jonah. ‘Annabel’s notes have plenty on it. Top of the range, all their, um, clients are kept at most two degrees above absolute zero.’
‘Cosy,’ said Never. He opened Google Maps and hunted for Winnerden Flats. It wasn’t marked, but eventually he found the location in a scan of an older map of Nevada, and zoomed down into the satellite imagery. ‘Looks like it’s on the fucking moon,’ he said. It was isolated, surrounded by vast desolation. There were buildings around a central courtyard, a few roads, and a clear perimeter fence much further out. ‘I’m guessing this is before they started any of the new work.’ He brought up the extension plans they had, the outline of the original buildings matching perfectly. ‘This place has been there for a while, right?’
‘Originally built nineteen years ago,’ said Jonah. ‘Seven years before revival emerged.’
‘Did her notes say how many clients they currently have?’
‘There was something from the original brochure . . . hang on . . . there. The storage capacity is four hundred full-body and one thousand partial. I guess that means just the head. Neither option was cheap.’
An annoying jingle started to come from Never’s pocket. He took out his phone and looked. ‘Annabel,’ he said.
Jonah immediately felt like a poor relation. ‘Why’s she calling you?’
‘She’s using a secure calling app she told us about. I’m guessing you didn’t bother installing it?’
Jonah felt his face redden. No, he hadn’t. In the first months following the fire at Reese-Farthing, Annabel had put together a suite of secure communication apps, something Jonah had resisted, desperate to believe that there was no reason to worry. Any talk of covert communication flew in the face of that and made him very uncomfortable.
The phone was still ringing, Never looking at the screen as if it was something contagious. Jonah could see in Never’s face the same reluctance he felt himself. In the space of a few minutes, things had changed completely. Answering the call felt like another step away from their old lives.
Finally, Never answered. ‘Hi, Annabel,’ he said. He put the phone on speaker. ‘I assume you saw the press conference.’
‘I saw. Is Jonah with you?’
‘Right here,’ said Jonah. ‘Are you OK?’
She paused. ‘No,’ she said, and Jonah knew exactly what she meant.
*
They shared their news in detail. Jonah told her about Mary Connart and Blake Torrance; about the shadows lurking, and his previous assumption that they were left-overs, stragglers abandoned by their defeated master. Not now, with Andreas alive.
And, of course, he told her about his invitation to join the research.
In turn, Annabel told them what had happened at her latest meeting, and the new information about Winnerden Flats. ‘Given the timings with your Torrance case,’ she said, ‘it might have been the theft of these documents that had Torrance on edge about the name Winnerden. I think we have to assume the alternative site plan is the real one. The question is, what are they hiding?’
‘I don’t know how they could expect to hide anything,’ said Jonah. ‘Stephanie Graves is in the process of assembling her team of researchers, and they’re taking revivers from around the country and beyond. There’s no way they can keep something big from all those people, surely?’
There was silence.
‘Jonah,’ said Annabel, ‘your invitation to join the project: does it say how soon people will be going?’
‘It’ll be ready to take people within the next few days. They want the facility fully up and running in two to four weeks.’
‘Maybe you should consider it,’ she said. ‘Being inside the facility would be a great place to find out what was going on.’
‘Come on, Annabel,’ said Jonah. ‘The only reason I got invited is because it would be conspicuous if I wasn’t. There’s no way Andreas would want me there. I’d guess he would rather we weren’t anywhere. Right now all I want to do is get as much cash as I can lay my hands on and vanish before he decides to do something about that.’
‘Jonah,’ she said, ‘if Andreas cared what we thought, he would have done something about us long before now. He’s had plenty of opportunity. If we don’t seem like a threat to him, he mustn’t care. You think we have to run to be safe, but running would do exactly the opposite. It would make us look dangerous.’
‘Please, Annabel,’ said Jonah. ‘We can just go somewhere. Vanish. Together.’
‘We don’t know what’s going on,’ she said. ‘Maybe Andreas is trying to get people with these shadows into useful positions, political and civil. Maybe it’s a long-term goal, and he’s just rounding up the best revivers to keep them from seeing the shadows the way you can, and revealing their existence. Winnerden Flats could be a decoy. If we run, we’re not in a position to find out what’s going on. And then we’re defeated.’
‘I still say we should run,’ said Jonah. ‘We’re sitting ducks. Last time we were caught up in this we nearly died, but if we’d been safe at home that night? Nothing in our lives would have changed. We would’ve been blissfully unaware of it all. I want to go somewhere and forget about everything.’
‘Nothing would have been different?’ said Annabel. ‘Tess would be dead, for a start.’
Jonah said nothing.
‘What about you, Never?’ said Annabel. ‘If we run, we all have to do it at the same time. We need to agree, and the votes are one for, one against.’
‘Oh great, deciding vote,’ said Never. ‘Well, I agree about the risk of drawing attention to ourselves if we panic. And I suppose I can keep my ear to the ground at work. The FRS will be a way to hear what’s happening in Baseline, and there’s something else:
Stacy and Jason were invited to Winnerden Flats too. I need to warn them off before I’d even consider running.’
‘They could prove useful as contacts,’ said Annabel.
‘Fuck that,’ said Never. ‘I’d rather my friends weren’t stranded out in the middle of nowhere with Andreas for company.’
Jonah nodded. ‘Agreed,’ he said. ‘But you can’t tell them outright. You’d sound crazy. Play to their loyalty to the FRS, maybe.’
‘That I can do,’ said Never. ‘As for my vote . . . I don’t know. Not yet.’
‘OK,’ said Annabel. ‘Let’s say we take forty-eight hours to think about it. Pack a bag in case anything happens. If it does, we alert each other securely and vanish. We can survive, Jonah. Maybe long enough to find Andreas’s weakness.’
‘If you’re right about Andreas not caring what we do,’ said Jonah, ‘then maybe he has no weaknesses.’
26
Once they’d ended the call, Jonah gave Never his phone so he could install the suite of secure communication apps.
‘Seriously?’ said Never, looking at Jonah’s cell phone as if it was a slice of cold sick. ‘You really use this? I thought you upgraded.’
‘I didn’t see the point. I only use it for voice calls and browsing.’
‘Well,’ said Never, with what could only be pity in his eyes, ‘you need to go out and buy yourself a decent no-contract phone. If we do end up running, we’d have to ditch our old phones anyway. Even if they couldn’t decrypt the calls themselves, they’d still be able to track us on them. I’ll give you a list to pick from and the link you need for the app suite. Pay cash for the phone, too. And don’t just buy it down the street, OK?’
He agreed, and Never headed back to work.
*
Jonah spent some of that night and most of the following morning getting a small backpack ready. He kept it light, making sure the damn thing didn’t look like it was ready to burst. It had to appear casual, day-to-day. He had a few hundred dollars in there, some spare clothes. Hardly anything else would be coming with him.