New Eden

by Kishore Tipirneni

The two days of rain had finally let up, and the sky was clear blue as Rachael drove Joshua back to the lab. As they made their way up the driveway of the Bowman Particle Research Center, they noticed three black SUVs parked near the entrance.

  Joshua and Rachael glanced at each other simultaneously, a sinking feeling in their stomachs.

  “Shit,” Joshua uttered. “He didn’t even bother to call us like he promised.”

  “Behold,” Rachael said ominously. “The next steps.”

  Vinod was still passed out on his bed when he heard the doorbell ring. He picked up the phone from his nightstand to look at the time. 12:03 p.m. Who the hell can that be? he wondered. Maybe if I just ignore whoever it is, they’ll leave.

  He had no such luck. They pounded on the door, shouting something that Vinod couldn’t make out. He checked the app on his phone that allowed him to view who was standing on his front porch. These were definitely not Jehovah’s Witnesses. The doorbell rang again.

  “Alright!” Vinod cried. “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

  He got out of bed and noticed that he was still wearing the same clothes from the day before. It was then that he recalled the previous evening—Seth, the Bowman sphere, the Rock Candy Dance Club, and . . . he couldn’t remember how he got home. He’d gone to use the bathroom, and everything after that was a blank.

  “Damn,” he said under his breath as the loud knocking continued. “Can’t a guy nurse a hangover in peace?”

  Still feeling the effects of the night’s celebration, Vinod stumbled down the stairs and opened the door. His sleepiness quickly disappeared when he saw a man and a woman standing on the porch, each wearing a dark blue jacket with the letters FBI emblazoned on it in yellow letters. A black SUV was parked in his driveway.

  “Vinod Bhakti?” the man asked.

  “Yes.” Vinod looked from the man to the woman, puzzled as to why they’d been so insistent in their knocking. Getting hammered wasn’t a felony.

  “I’m Agent Hargraves, and this is my partner, Agent Ramirez. We’re with the FBI.” The agents showed Vinod their credentials, although the computer engineer’s vision was too blurry to see the photos IDs when he leaned over to examine them. “We have orders to bring you to our headquarters in San Francisco for questioning.”

  “Questioning for what?” Vinod asked, his mind racing, his voice strained. Vinod could think of numerous reasons the FBI might be interested in him—his online computer activity wasn’t always above board—but nothing seemed so critical that agents would want to question him at the bureau’s headquarters. He wasn’t going to take any chances, though. As he’d told Joshua, he was more than a little suspicious of the feds—outright distrustful, in fact—but he wasn’t going to foolishly challenge them even though he felt outraged at their intrusion.

  “We have no idea what they want to talk to you about,” agent Ramirez answered. “Our orders are to bring you in—immediately.”

  “Okay, hold on a sec,” Vinod replied. “I’ve got to get my shoes.” Vinod walked back to his study. “Layla, execute protocol D 3 L 3 T 3,” he said loudly enough so that his trusty electronic assistant could hear, but not the two agents at his front door.

  Layla replied, “Confirmed. Protocol D 3 L 3 T 3 execution in progress.”

  The lights on the storage devices in the server racks started blinking rapidly. Vinod put on a pair of sandals and headed for the front door. As he did so, he was aware for the first time that his head was throbbing, as if someone was using a jackhammer on the inside of his skull.

  The agents seated Vinod in the rear of their black Suburban and drove to San Francisco, not saying a word as they neared the city.

  “I don’t suppose we can stop at a Starbuck’s, huh?” Vinod said.

  His request was greeted with silence.

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  Once at headquarters, the agents escorted Vinod to an elevator, and the three rode to an upper-floor conference room that contained a large mahogany table with numerous leather chairs surrounding it. There was a set of windows on one wall that afforded a panoramic view of the San Francisco skyline and the Golden Gate Bridge. As he walked into the room, Vinod saw a couple of familiar faces seated at the table: Joshua and Rachel. He took a seat next to them, his expression begging for an explanation.

  “Wait here,” Agent Ramirez instructed. “Someone will be with you shortly.” The agents left the room and closed the door.

  “What the hell is going on!” Vinod exclaimed, nervous and agitated. “In the words of Dylan, I was knocked out loaded when those two goons started pounding on my door.” He rubbed his temples. “My God, I’d kill for two aspirins.”

  “Don’t really know why we’re here,” Rachael replied. “There were FBI agents waiting for us when Josh and I arrived at the lab this morning. They hurried us into an SUV and drove us here a couple of hours ago and haven’t told us anything yet.”

  “What did you guys do?” Vinod asked. “Wait a minute. You didn’t—”

  “This morning we called Robert Langdon, the director of NASA, and told him about the sphere and Seth,” Joshua confessed unapologetically. “Rachael and I were in agreement.”

  Vinod looked accusatorily at Joshua. “NASA? I knew that getting the government involved was a bad idea.” Vinod momentarily rested his head on the polished surface of the conference table. “This whole thing is gonna get buried deeper than JFK’s assassination. I don’t know what hurts more—my head or you guys going to the government.”

  “Still better than your idea,” Joshua countered, mimicking Vinod’s swagger while sitting in the booth at the Rock Candy. “I’m gonna tweet this bad boy out right here and now. Why wait? Brilliant,” he said sarcastically. “Besides, maybe this is all related to your dark web stuff. Rachael told me that you communicate with some pretty unsavory people online.”

  “No way, dude,” Vinod said defensively and then paused. “Well, maybe I occasionally make contact with foreign sources through back channels in order to gather information, but that stuff is locked up tight. Besides, Layla is cleaning it up as we speak. But you—you make one call to NASA, and now we’re stuck with all this cloak and dagger shit.”

  “Calm down, Vinod,” Rachael replied. “We don’t know what’s going on yet. Let’s wait and see what happens.” Rachael glanced at Vinod’s shirt. “Same clothes as yesterday, huh? You pull a rollover? You smell like the Rock Candy Dance Club.”

  “Those FBI agents were in kind of a hurry. Mulder and Scully there were quite insistent that we hit the bricks ASAP. Really didn’t give me a chance to change,” Vinod responded as he glanced at Joshua. “But it looks like Joshua’s wearing the same clothes as well. You two want to explain that?”

  Joshua looked at Rachael. “Well . . .”

  He started to explain, but he was interrupted as the conference room door opened. Three people walked in, two men and a woman. One of the men was none other than Robert Langdon. The other man, who wore a khaki military uniform with dozens of medals covering the breast of his coat, carried a black case that Joshua recognized immediately. It was the case that contained the Bowman sphere.

  20

  Deep Pockets

  The three newcomers took seats at the table opposite the others. They said nothing as they eyed Joshua, Rachael, and Vinod while opening laptops each had placed on the conference table. Robert Langdon, tall and slender, wore a dark brown suit and tie. He was in his late fifties, with graying brown hair that was cut short and parted neatly to one side. The woman was African American, slender, and looked to be in her late forties. The man in the military uniform set the case with the sphere on the table just to his right so as not to obscure his view of the three young people sitting across from him. He appeared to be in his sixties, had a rugged, weathered face, and was Caucasian, with gray hair clipped into a military-style crew cut. His eyes were of such a pale blue color that it seemed to Rachael that they conveyed an absence of emotion.

  “Whe
re did you get that?” Joshua demanded, pointing to the case. His tone was angry as he leaned forward, motioning to the case.

  “We picked it up from your lab this morning,” the man in the military uniform replied dispassionately.

  “I didn’t authorize that,” Joshua said. “How did you get it? My instructions to my team at the particle center were that it be locked in a security vault, so I assume you waltzed right in and appropriated it for the Pentagon?”

  “We’ll get to that in a moment,” the woman replied. “I’m Dina Williams, White House chief of staff.” She pointed to the uniformed man beside her. “This is General Mitchell Porter, chairman of the joint chiefs, and I believe you’re familiar with Robert Langdon, director of NASA. We’re already familiar with all three of you.” Williams turned to the Porter. “Mitchell, any comments on their background checks?”

  “Background checks?” Joshua repeated, looking from Williams to Porter.

  “That’s an invasion of my privacy,” Vinod protested. “You have no right!”

  Breathing fast, Joshua rubbed the stubble on his chin and assessed the figures staring at him, but his gaze came to rest squarely on the NASA director. He was getting a feeling that calling Langdon had been a mistake of major proportions. The director had sandbagged him with flattery and congratulations over the telephone. He’d known from the outset what his “next steps” would be and who he intended to call. Joshua felt that his friendship with the director, rooted in his work with Henry, had been betrayed.

  “No, they came up clean,” Porter replied tersely. “For the most part, that is.” He glared at Vinod as he tapped the fingers of his right hand on the table. “There are some minor issues with Mr. Bhakti’s usage of the Internet.”

  Like Joshua, Vinod was growing more concerned by the minute. He hated being in an FBI office in the first place, but now there was a general talking about background checks, which included his online activity. This was definitely outside his comfort zone.

  “Examine my servers,” Vinod said smugly. “They’re clean.”

  “But your digital footprint is everywhere,” Porter corrected. “Would you like me to tell the room about your dark web activities on Asian sites alone?”

  “Someone want to explain what’s going on?” Joshua asked.

  “Certainly, Dr. Andrews,” Williams replied. “First I want to start by congratulating all of you for making first contact with an outside intelligence. Obviously, you know the significance of this discovery, and I also wanted to thank you for having the foresight to contact someone at NASA without splashing this all over the Internet. You clearly have presence of mind, which correlates with your sterling reputation as a scientist.”

  Joshua gave a knowing glance at Vinod, who rolled his eyes.

  “Congratulations to three people who’ve been taken into custody,” Rachael said, as if setting the record straight.

  “You’re not under arrest,” Williams continued, “but we need to get a handle on who else knows about this discovery. Besides the three of you, is anyone else aware of what transpired in the mine or at Mr. Bhakti’s house?”

  “No one else knows,” Joshua replied. “I already made that clear to Robert—to Mr. Langdon.”

  The NASA director was busy taking notes on his laptop and paid no attention to Joshua’s verbal slight.

  “How about this Rodrigo Torres who works in your lab?” Williams asked. “Weren't you working with him when you made contact?”

  “No, he was working in another mine with a different sphere and spookyon,” Joshua answered, “but he doesn't know anything about our conversation with the aliens. We’d been unsuccessfully attempting to create a pair of entangled spookyons, and we ended the video call with him before we realized we’d made contact with alien intelligence. As far as he knows, it was just another failed test.”

  “That’s fortunate,” Williams continued. “So aside from you three, the people in this room, the president, and some very high-level officials in the government, no one else knows.” Williams looked sternly around the room before she spoke again. “And we want to keep it that way.”

  Joshua, Rachael, and Vinod stared at Williams, their mouths agape as they processed what the chief of staff had said. Joshua was the first to speak.

  “What!” Joshua exclaimed, obviously upset. “You've got to be freaking kidding me! We made the discovery, and yet we're not allowed to tell anyone?”

  “That's correct,” Williams replied. “We've determined that it's in the best interest of the country not to disclose any of this, at least until we have more information. Knowledge of alien intelligence has the potential to cause widespread panic and destabilize important social structures. It could even affect the economy by causing market volatility. There could be a massive sell-off by people who fear imminent invasion. The market responds to news cycles as much as it does to corporate portfolios.”

  “Man, I knew it!” Vinod said. “That’s Orwellian doublespeak. Joshua, I told you that telling these government clowns was a bad idea. This is just horse shit!”

  “We contacted NASA in order to receive help,” Joshua said by way of clarification, “not to be dictated to.”

  “Ms. Williams,” Rachael interjected, “are you saying that we're not allowed to tell anyone at all? No announcement, no write up, no press conference—nothing? It’s my understanding that even SETI has protocols that would make such knowledge public.”

  “I assure you that none of their protocols will ever be carried out,” Langdon stated. “The NSA has plans in place to close down their facility in Mountain View as soon as they try to go public should they ever receive a meaningful radio transmission.”

  “But this is a major scientific discovery,” Rachael declared. “You have no right to keep it from the public.”

  “We have every right to do what’s in the best interest of the country,” Porter said. “We make policy, Ms. Miller, not you or your friends. If I may be blunt, you’re not qualified to assess the ramifications of what has happened or its implications for national security.”

  “It was my idea to call NASA,” Joshua admitted, glaring at Langdon. “I thought you guys would know the best way to announce this—nothing more. If I'd known that you were going to deep six it, I would’ve let Vinod tweet it out like he wanted. I agree that this news would cause a stir, but it belongs to everyone on the planet. Who’s to say that it might not unite humanity in the long run by enabling it to see itself as a single life form and not hundreds of fragmented countries?”

  “Is that your goal?” Porter asked indignantly. “A new world order?”

  “That’s not what I meant, general. You’re putting words in my mouth.”

  “Look, I understand your frustration, and I realize the significance of this discovery,” Langdon said, now playing the role of good cop. “Believe me when I tell you that we’ll work through the science in painstaking detail, but we can’t just unleash this on society without first knowing exactly what we are dealing with. National security must come first.”

  “National security?” Vinod said rhetorically. “That's bullshit! It's just an excuse for you guys to keep this to yourselves—a catch-phrase for anything the government wants to cover up.”

  “This isn’t a cover-up,” Williams said. “It’s an abundance of caution to prevent mass hysteria and the kind of social disruptions I’ve already described.” She paused to highlight her next words. “And the president is in complete agreement with me.”

  Porter, whose steely features were nowhere near as diplomatic as those of Langdon and Williams, gave Vinod a stern look and said, “National security is not bullshit, son! You science people have no idea what you're dealing with here. You make contact with an alien civilization far more advanced than us, and you want to just turn them loose on society? Hell no! Listen here—I've got enough of a security problem worrying about the panic we have with this Ebola outbreak. I definitely don't need more fear as a result of this alien crap
.”

  Joshua couldn’t contain himself. “Is that what we are to you, general? Science people? That’s pretty condescending. And this isn’t alien crap, as you put it, or we wouldn’t be sitting here today, nor would you have confiscated the Bowman sphere.”

  Williams tried to tamp down flaring tempers. “Let's everyone remain calm and take a deep breath. Obviously, these are important decisions, and we're not going to rush into anything. What we need is more information. First, tell us what you've found out about the aliens. You've had just the one conversation with them, correct?”

  “Right,” Joshua answered. “Last night. We talked to someone named Seth, although that's not his real name, just one he picked from the data we sent. Their language is completely different from ours. They communicate using spookyons, and their names—their designations, if your will—are digital in nature.”

  “What information did you send them?” Langdon asked, leaning forward and appearing concerned. “How much do they know about us? Do they know where we are?”

  “They have no common point of astronomical reference,” Rachael said. “In other words, their night sky would bear no resemblance to our constellations or our catalog of stars and their positions. That’s why this is so radically different from SETI, which could pinpoint the source of a radio signal. So the answer is no—they don’t know where we are.”

  “Yet,” Porter said.

  “The stuff we sent them is mostly information they already knew,” Vinod said. “Math and science. But to teach them language, they needed to know basic concepts about culture and history. Language doesn’t exist in a vacuum, which is why it’s the end point of my algorithm.”

  “What language was it?” Langdon asked. “Just English?”

  “Yes, English,” Vinod replied looking at Rachael and Joshua. “In both the formal and informal usage.”

  “What have you found out about them?” Williams asked, remaining even-tempered, as if she were the moderator of the discussion. “I assume you asked them questions. Was this Seth individual very forthcoming?”