Second contact, p.30
Second Contact, page 30
part #2 of Not Alone Series
Large banners and placards bearing the ‘Truth, Truth, Now Now Now!’ slogan of the Now Movement were present at multiple protests, while the simpler ‘Now Now Now’ T-shirts made famous by Dan McCarthy and Emma Ford were genuinely ubiquitous wherever the news cameras pointed.
No one on the street was smiling. Those interviewed uttered understandable phrases like “we deserve to be protected” and “how can Godfrey justify the GSC’s budget when our health service is on its knees and all the money we’re sending to his Argentine palace can’t even keep our skies clear?”, with the second of these comments giving Cole an idea for a highly promising line of attack.
Further music to Cole’s ears came when the reporter stated that she had encountered precisely zero citizens willing to speak in support of the GSC’s handling of recent events, even during a morning spent on a busy shopping street many miles from any protest sites.
“Fervour is the word that comes to mind as I walk through this throng of concerned and angry citizens,” she said, speaking loudly into her microphone to be heard over the commotion, “and we should bear in mind that these scenes are positively tame compared to those being reported elsewhere.”
On cue, the screen cut to images of violent scuffles outside GSC buildings in other regions, chiefly India and southern Europe. The contrast of a peaceful vigil outside Timo Fiore’s Cavalieri Observatory was then presented as another damning moment for Godfrey’s GSC; within a few hours, there would be similar scenes outside the infamous old IDA building in Colorado Springs, where the new Fiore Frontiere lettering was due to be installed later in the day.
“The only conclusion to be drawn from today’s events is that Chairman Godfrey’s position is under very serious threat,” the reporter continued. “The size and power of the Kerguelen bolide woke many of these protestors up to just how exposed to celestial threats our planet truly is, but the news that a decaying satellite fell unexpectedly towards the mainland United States last night has kicked things up by more than a few notches among a global populace which was already questioning the GSC’s ability to keep Earth safe. And needless to say, the self-evident political challenges arising from this satellite incident are the last thing he needs right now.”
Cole looked away from the TV briefly, to study Jack Neal’s reaction. Jack was always less expressive than Cole — borderline robotic, in the Prime Minister’s eyes — but even he was smiling today.
“Without the leaked memo, this would have been all about fear,” Jack said. “But now that everyone knows Godfrey tried to quash all discussion of the idea that the Kerguelen bolide might have been an unnatural event, it’s a plateful of fear with a mountain of anger on the side.”
Something which hadn’t escaped the media’s notice over the past year was that a steady minority of citizens, unbowed by prevailing opinion, held onto a strong fear that the Messengers might be hostile. A small handful of vocal media commentators had maintained this position from the earliest days of Dan McCarthy’s IDA leak, arguing that the plaque found in Salzburg was nowhere near decisive enough to be taken as an absolute indicator of peaceful intent, but recent events had made their particular brand of alarmism far more popular than ever before.
And although John Cole himself had no idea what might come of the suggestion that aliens had been somehow involved in the incident at Kerguelen, this didn’t stop him from enjoying the chaos of the moment; he didn’t have to closely analyse this stick or any other to know that it was one he could use to beat Godfrey.
The precise details regarding the Chinese satellite which had recently burned up over the Western United States were as ill-defined in Cole’s mind as the precise nature of the Kerguelen bolide. Via Jack Neal’s impeccable Chinese sources, Cole did know one thing that the general public didn’t, but it was hardly illuminating: in short, he knew only that the junk satellite’s earlier than expected entry — one which saw it burn up over the United States rather than the vastness of the Pacific Ocean — had come as just as much of a surprise to the Chinese government as it had to everyone else. No one in Beijing was happy about the political headaches the incident was causing for everyone involved, least of all Premier Ding Ziyang.
As Godfrey’s troubles mounted and the wolves howled at his door, John Cole was indeed a happy man.
A patient man, however, John Cole was not.
“What’s that look?” Jack asked, uneasily gazing at Cole’s focused expression.
Cole thought in silence for a while. “We’re still operating on the assumption that Ford and Fiore had something to do with the GSC leak coming out when it did, aren’t we?” he eventually asked, largely but not completely rhetorically.
Jack nodded. “Like I said before: given that Timo and his staff have so many friends in GSC observatories, it certainly seems that way. But what does—”
“I want them to be more involved,” Cole interrupted. “They hate Godfrey, we hate Godfrey. We all want the same thing.”
“I’ve tried,” Jack replied. “But you saw Timo on Focus 20/20; the ‘enemy of my enemy’ thing would only work if they didn’t hate us even more than they hate Godfrey. Emma has very clearly convinced Timo of the need to distance himself from us and we have nothing to offer them that could change that. We have nothing they want, boss; there’s no leverage.”
Cole leaned back and raised his eyebrows in confusion, the sudden shift of his substantial frame causing his chair to creak. “Jack… do I seriously have to tell you, of all people, that negative leverage is the best kind? We don’t need to have something they want. There are things they care about — each other, for instance — and that means there are things we can do to encourage their cooperation.”
“Boss, if you’ll pardon a candid word…”
“Spit it out.”
“Well, it’s my opinion that you really don’t want to risk needlessly provoking them. It pains me to say this but Emma knows exactly what she’s doing, and Timo has the means to do pretty much whatever he wants.”
“Are you telling me that she knows more than you?” Cole asked, crossing his arms and tipping his head back to quite literally look down his nose at Jack. “Are you telling me that I have a second-rate advisor while Timo has the best in—”
“Of course not,” Jack interrupted, visibly flustered. “I—I—I’ll see what I can find.”
Cole uncrossed his arms. “Good. Do you still think the sister is a dead end? She strikes me as the perfect weak link.”
“The deadest of all ends,” Jack said. “I had Tara trailed quite closely last year, particularly when she was staying in Colorado, and, well… let’s just say that what you see is what you get: model, bimbo, airhead. Emma is far too smart to ever tell her anything.”
“And what about their other acquaintances? Anyone with grudges, anything like that?”
“Birchwood is one of those backwards little hick-towns where people smile in the street and leave their doors unlocked when they go to the store,” Jack said, disdain dripping from his words. “The McCarthys are hick-town royalty; no one has a bad word to say about them.”
“What about recent visitors?” Cole pushed, getting impatient.
Jack shrugged. “Well, Timo is there, but you know that.”
“What do you mean ‘there’? Colorado Springs?”
“Birchwood,” Jack said. “He was this morning, at least. It’s a small town; one road in, one road out. We are extremely limited with what we can do in terms of at-home surveillance — Dan in particular has spent serious money on electronic security — but we have fairly reliable knowledge of who comes and who goes.”
Cole didn’t look impressed. “I’m not asking you to wait and see who comes and goes,” he snapped. “I’m asking you to make something happen! Do you understand what I’m telling you here? Nothing is off the table, Jack. If they don’t want to be with us, you know what that makes them.”
During his many years in PR and politics, Jack Neal had heard the phrase “nothing is off the table” from more impatient leaders than he could count. Few meant it like John Cole.
Jack nodded meekly.
“I’m serious,” Cole went on. “And if I see sentiment getting in the way — if I think for a second that you’re going soft on them because of some one-way sentiment you have for Ford — if that happens, you’re gone. And listen to me when I say this, Jack, because I’ll only say it once: when I get rid of someone, it’s not like when Slater or Godfrey get rid of someone. You won’t slither away from me like you slithered away from them. Understood? When I get rid of something, it’s gone.”
As referenced in Cole’s threat, Jack had worked for and with some extremely powerful individuals. None of them, however, had struck fear in him like Cole did. It was perhaps partly down to Cole’s size — mass might have been a better term — but it was primarily because Cole just wasn’t like them.
While they had planned their political careers since adolescence, he had fallen into top-level politics on the back of a single-issue electoral campaign that struck the right nerve at the right time. And while they operated under a globally common understanding that certain lines were never to be crossed, Cole saw rules as things for everyone else to worry about.
A threat from John Cole felt very different to a threat from any of the other powerful individuals Jack had dealt with on a daily basis for the last fifteen years. More than any other single word, a threat from Cole felt legitimate.
“You have nothing to worry about on that front,” Jack eventually squeaked out. “I won’t hold back, boss. I’ll get something we can use, one way or another.”
“Good,” Cole said, very simply. He pushed himself forward from his reclined position until he was sitting upright again. “I believe in you, Jack. Don’t let me down.”
C minus 24
McCarthy Residence
Birchwood, Colorado
As evening fell in Birchwood, Dan’s recently expanded inner circle of Clark, Emma, Tara and Timo were all sitting in his basement eagerly awaiting the arrival of Trey and his potentially world-changing footage.
Belatedly, Emma commented that the air felt less oppressive than it had during her first time in the basement. Dan pointed to a box-like device on the door-side wall, next to his security centre, and explained that it was some kind of air purification thing he’d searched for online and purchased on the back of Emma’s previous comments so that she wouldn’t be uncomfortable.
“Well it seems to work,” she said, smiling warmly at the small kindness.
As time ticked by, Trey’s arrival drew ever nearer. He had made only one rest stop for a short nap, breaking the seventeen-hour drive home from Lolo into two more manageable but still gruelling legs, and his very recent phone call to Dan revealed that he was now back in his nearby home and would be in Birchwood imminently.
Emma ensured Trey was fully aware that he couldn’t divulge any of what he had seen the previous night to anyone, and more specifically that this ‘anyone’ included the wife with whom he jointly operated the Blue Dish Network business. Emma had also been the one who suggested that he make a short trip home before coming to Birchwood with the footage, chiefly so that he could leave his heavily branded news van behind and drive to Dan’s in his far less conspicuous personal car.
Dan had openly shared his expectation that the Messengers would give him another sign before Trey’s return, but this hadn’t come to pass. As the day progressed he started to reason that the third and decisive sign would likely come during the American evening or perhaps overnight — in line with the pattern established by the Kerguelen bolide and Trey’s sightings at Lolo — so the lack of action so far wasn’t overly concerning.
Clark had spent the day at work while Emma spent most of it answering all manner of questions about both Walker’s hoax and the real Messengers whenever Tara and Timo thought of them.
Dan, meanwhile, focused on where he thought the next attention-grabbing event might occur; so much so that the new giant map he unfolded and stuck to his wall-length research board in the morning was already positively covered in speculative triangles by the early afternoon. He knew beyond doubt that Lolo was one of the points, and although he admitted it was more of a hunch than an empirically grounded expectation, another belief he had already stated — that the all-important fourth plaque was ultimately going to be discovered somewhere in Colorado — was growing firmer by the hour.
Emma wasn’t convinced by this assumption and didn’t hold back in sharing her view, but she didn’t object to Dan’s speculation since it wasn’t going to influence any imminent decisions. All Dan was really doing was passing the time by using every clue and idea in his mind to try to predict the location of the third sign, and there was no harm in that.
With Lolo as one of the triangle’s definite points, Dan predicted potential sites for the next event by using various locations in Colorado as plausible places for the plaque to be found. Stevenson Farm, the area around Pikes Peak, the IDA building in Colorado Springs and even the Gold Rush towns of Denver and Boulder were among his potential sites. The distances between these plaque-related locations led to natural and equivalent distances between the areas where he projected that the next event might occur. Rather than a single definitive site, Dan thus ended up with what he called “corridors of expectation” where he thought something was about to happen.
Timo and particularly Tara paid increasing attention to Dan’s wall-based workings as his corridors developed. He shared his thinking and explained that if he was correct, the triangle’s third point would fall in either California or North Dakota. At this point, Tara raised the understandable question of how Dan could narrow it down to two small corridors which were so far apart.
Rather than verbally explaining what he meant, it proved easier for him to visually demonstrate why he thought the triangle’s third point would fall in one of these two distinct locations; all Dan had to do was draw a straight line on an empty part of his whiteboard, point to it, and say: “See? We know where this line starts and we know where it ends. And since we also know that all three of the triangle’s sides are going to be the same length, we know that the third point can be either here on the left, or here on the right… it’ll be vertically centred, on one side of this line or the other.”
“And ‘one side or the other’ means either somewhere in your California corridor or somewhere in the opposite corridor in North Dakota?” Tara asked.
Dan had nodded and left it at that.
But now, much later in the day and with both Trey’s arrival and the hopefully imminent third sign growing closer by the minute, Dan took a moment to return to his whiteboard and urge caution by telling both Tara and Timo that he wouldn’t be concerned if the third event happened somewhere else entirely.
“This isn’t like when I knew something was going to happen at Lolo,” he said. “They haven’t told me this; this is me actively looking for somewhere that makes sense, with no input from them. This is all on me. The third sign could appear anywhere, and when we line up a triangle using Lolo and this new location as two of the points, the third point could be somewhere I haven’t considered but which makes total and immediate sense. What really counts is Lolo, because no one else knows that’s an important place since it wasn’t all that close to the exact point of the satellite’s entry. So even if anyone else was trying to map a relationship between these recent events, they’d be using the location of where the satellite entered the atmosphere instead of our spot at Lolo. That’s the difference; it’s not huge but it’s enough to put their final point in the wrong place, and I think that’s why the Messengers called me to the cornfield to tell me about Lolo.”
“Well, that and the footage,” Timo said. “Because they evidently wanted you to either be there to see the craft, or for you to send someone who would record it.”
“About that,” Tara interjected. “What exactly are we going to tell this Trey guy, anyway?”
Timo spoke first: “For starters, I’ll buy his silence… however much it costs.”
“We won’t have to do that,” Dan said. “We’ll make sure he does well out of this, because that footage would make him a very rich man if he took it anywhere else. But it’s not a case of buying his silence. He’s not like that.”
Timo glanced at Clark and then Emma, both of whom he knew to be less idealistic than Dan.
She nodded. “With Trey, it’s really not like that. It would be just like if Dan found something. In fact, it’s just like when Dan did find something; it’s just like when he found the Kerguelen folder outside the IDA building and decided to post its contents anonymously online instead of selling it to the media. Trey is the same. The money won’t be an issue… I think the hard part is going to be justifying why no one else can see his incredible footage.”
“Trey’s a good guy,” Clark added, straight to the point.
“So like I said…” Tara said, “what exactly are we going to tell him?”
“I don’t mean this in a bad way,” Emma replied, “but you’re not going to be part of the ‘we’ when it comes to dealing with Trey. Neither you or Timo are going to talk to him unless he asks a very simple question which I think it’s safe for you to answer. You two just aren’t as used to watching what you say about this stuff as we are.”
“So you’re not telling Trey about the hoax?” Timo chimed in.
Emma shook her head. “Telling him would benefit no one. All it would do is make his life unnecessarily difficult, and increasing the number of people who know would only serve to increase the chance of someone accidentally slipping up.”
“But we obviously need to tell him everything else…” Dan said, almost-but-not-quite inflecting it into a question.
