“Ms Ford,” Emma heard through the car’s speakers as Dan yawned to life. The voice was the driver’s. “There are people with cameras by the door.”
Emma looked out of the window at Dan’s side. Sure enough, there was a small crowd. She cursed and lifted her phone from her pocket.
“What’s up?” Dan asked.
“No one is supposed to know where you are. I could not have been any clearer about that. And now they’re not even answering my call.”
Dan counted nine people, three of whom were children. “It’s not a big deal, is it?”
“I don’t want people to see us together,” Emma said. “And if they’re not press then I can’t exactly tell them all not to post their photos online.”
“You did it at the salon.”
“That was two people on a random street,” Emma said. “This is a crowd outside a TV studio.”
For the reasons Emma had explained at the salon, Dan understood why she didn’t want to be photographed with him. It wasn’t personal, it was business. He didn’t say anything.
“Go inside,” she said. “I’ll go in the front and meet you. Stay right at the door, okay?”
“Be quick, then,” Dan said. He stepped outside. The car started moving before his door swung closed.
Immediately, the children in the crowd swarmed Dan. Two of the three had pens and autograph books. Dan scribbled his name and posed for a few photos without thinking too much about how crazy it all was. He had never really understood celebrity worship and certainly didn’t consider himself any kind of celebrity, so he was relieved when he reached the door and a man in an old fashioned headset ushered him inside with a smile.
“Ah, Mr McCarthy,” the man beamed. He wore a security lanyard which identified him as an audio technician but didn’t display his name. “The studio for your Focus 20/20 recording is on the second floor. I’ll lead you up.”
“I have to wait here for someone,” Dan said. “Wait, did you say Focus 20/20?”
“I sure did.”
“I’m going to be on Focus 20/20?”
The technician smiled. “Of course. And who is it we’re waiting for?”
“My friend. She’s coming in the front,” Dan said absently. Focus 20/20 was a much bigger deal than he was ready for, and certainly not “a little panel show” as Emma had told him. It was the best known current affairs show in the country, having been broadcast nationwide at 9pm every Sunday for longer than Dan had been alive. Quite remarkably, Marian de Clerk had hosted every single episode bar three: one for each of her children’s births and one when a hurricane grounded her flight in Miami. This unparalleled longevity made de Clerk, who was still only 64 and had plenty of good years left, the closest thing the country had to a universally loved TV personality.
Focus 20/20’s guests were typically titans in their fields; everyone from astronauts and senators to athletes and movie stars had graced the show, with only a handful of panellists ever appearing via satellite like Dan would be.
Several of the other public figures embroiled in Dan’s leak had enjoyed or endured their own time in the 20/20 spotlight, too: Richard Walker’s presidential campaign collapsed during one particularly raucous episode in the early 1980s; Billy Kendrick drew ridicule for announcing his belief in a top-level alien cover-up in 2002 then gained many viewers’ respect by making his case more dispassionately and articulately nine years later; President Slater was a relatively frequent panellist in her time as a senator; and even Ben Gold had been on the show, appearing in 2014 as a specially invited guest for the episode discussing the discovery of candidate planet Kolpin-6b.
Though far from a regular viewer, Dan had strong memories of his dad sitting down on Sunday night to watch Focus 20/20. And like millions of others his age, Dan’s feelings for the show remained irrationally negative since a subconscious part of his brain associated the theme tune to the end of the weekend and a return to school.
Viewing figures were way down from their late-1990s peak, but Dan could still count on at least ten million people hearing his words. The show always covered the two biggest topics of the past week, so Dan would have a full twenty minutes to get his points across to a sizeable audience.
High pressure vs huge opportunity, he thought. He didn’t know how to feel about it all.
“Does your friend have the appropriate security clearance?” the technician asked.
“She won’t need it.”
“But the guards are very—”
“Trust me,” Dan insisted, knowing Emma well enough to know that no one was about to stop her. “She won’t need it.”
Dan was too busy processing the idea of appearing on Focus 20/20 to worry about coming across as standoffish, so an awkward silence filled the few minutes until Emma’s arrival.
“Why the hell are there people outside?” she asked the technician as soon as she reached him. Her tone suggested that she had asked the same question several times already without an acceptable reply.
“Uh, I don’t… that’s not really my, uh…” the man stammered.
“Sorry for the holdup, by the way,” Emma said to Dan, her stern expression fading as soon as she turned to him. “I had to get past Paul Blart at the front door.”
“A little panel show?” Dan said sarcastically. “Focus 20/20 is a little panel show?”
“I didn’t want to stress you out.”
“You’re unbelievable. What are the topics, anyway?”
“First it’s China In Space: New Dawn or False Start?, and then it’s Dan McCarthy and the IDA Leak.”
“Which one am I doing?”
“Very funny,” Emma said. She turned to the technician, her face instantly reverting back to the angry expression from earlier in a manner Dan found almost impressive. “So are you going to show us where to go, or what?”
The technician nodded dumbly and led the way.
“They’re filming for two hours today but it’s forty minutes for China and eighty for you,” Emma told Dan, “because we’re doing this on the condition that we can veto any parts we don’t like. They’re still spending twenty minutes of the actual show on each topic, obviously, since that’s the whole gimmick. And you’re on second since you’re the draw that people are going to tune in for.”
“How many viewers are they expecting?”
Emma shrugged. “I’ve heard them mention thirty million. But if anything else happens today, Godfrey or Slater or something, then we could be looking at a stupid number. I know I said I don’t want to stress you out, but this is the biggest thing you’ll ever do. Even if you do something bigger later on, whatever comes next comes because of this. No pressure, right?”
“You really should have told me,” Dan said. “I could have been preparing in the car.”
“We’ve got three hours until they start filming the China segment, and I have a list of pre-approved questions and a dossier on each of the panellists. I’ll be in the studio with you if you’re struggling, and like I said: we can cut out whatever we want. Everything is set.”
“Who are the other panellists?” Dan asked.
Emma ran through a list of five names. The first of the two names Dan recognised was Kaitlyn Judd, a mega-successful movie star most famous for her role in Lair of Fangs. He imagined that she had been booked in advance to draw young viewers, before Dan was added to the bill. The other familiar name was Joe Crabbe, an ultra-conservative shock jock who Dan knew from his heated debates with Billy Kendrick. Crabbe seemed to be the only other panellist even tangentially connected to the leak, so Dan expected him to be the most belligerent.
After a quick elevator ride and a short walk, they reached the studio.
“Here we are. Makeup is two doors down,” the technician said, pointing.
“You can go now,” Emma told him.
“Uh, I… uh, yeah.”
“Thanks,” Dan said.
The technician nodded and left.
“Why were you such an asshole
to that guy?” Dan asked.
“There were people outside,” Emma replied through semi-gritted teeth. “I told them to make sure there were no people.”
“Yeah but it was hardly his fault. He’s an audio technician.”
“If he’s the guy who let you in then he’s the guy who was nearest the door, no? That makes it partially his fault.”
Dan decided this wasn’t worth arguing over and opened the studio door.
“Makeup first,” Emma said. “That way we won’t have to see anyone again before they start filming.”
She led Dan into the makeup room, where a tall woman in her forties or fifties was reading a magazine in one of the chairs while she waited for them.
The friendly woman greeted them warmly and made sure Dan was comfortable in his seat. There was a greater focus on makeup than when Dan had been in the Sizzle and Spark salon the day before, since his hair was now too short to require any real upkeep. The room had less soul than the salon, though; with no natural light, it was really less of a room and more of a closet with a wall-length mirror.
While the woman worked, chatting occasionally, Emma encouraged Dan to practice facial expressions in the mirror. “It’s really important that your face conveys whatever your words are conveying,” she said. “Imagine that everyone is watching on mute and that you have to make them think you’re telling the truth about whatever you’re talking about, even though they can’t hear you.”
Dan’s efforts to display the emotions Emma called out made the makeup artist’s job more difficult than it should have been, but she still managed to finish before long.
She asked Dan if he could record a greeting for her son on her phone. “He believes in all of this stuff, too,” she said, meaning it kindly.
Dan didn’t take her words the wrong way and agreed to record a short video. He told her son, Harris, to “keep believing, because the truth always wins.”
“Thanks so much,” the makeup artist said. “We’ll be watching tonight. I can’t believe you’re going to get to talk to Kaitlyn Judd! I’m so jealous.”
“Yeah,” Dan said. “But just imagine how excited she must be about talking to me.”
The woman laughed and said goodbye, leaving for her overdue lunch break.
Emma handed Dan his work glasses, as they had both already taken to calling them. These were the thin-framed designer ones that had been brought to the salon for Dan. He didn’t like them, but Emma’s word was the law. He put them on.
“What do you think?” Emma asked. She was nodding with her lip slightly upturned, as though surprised that Dan could become so presentable.
Dan hesitated, searching for the right word. “Weatherman,” he eventually said. “I look like a fashion-conscious weatherman.”
Emma laughed the loudest and truest laugh Dan had ever heard from her. “You actually do!” she said through the laughter, trying to gather herself. “But that’s good. Because people trust weathermen, even though they’re always wrong.”
Dan climbed out of the chair and headed for the door. “Two and a half hours until filming,” he said. “We should probably start thinking about what I’m going to say.”
“Yeah,” Emma agreed, still smiling about the weatherman thing. “Probably.”
* * *
The “studio” being used for Dan’s filming was smaller than the makeup room. There was a chair, a camera, a TV, and nothing else. The upper half of the wall behind the camera was a clear window which revealed an adjoining room full of producers, technicians and other staff all working busily at their screens.
“I’ll make sure that window is covered when they start filming,” Emma said. “And I’ll stay in here with you, beside the camera. I better get another chair, actually.”
Emma quickly returned with a chair from the busy room next door and set it down beside the camera. For the next two hours, she helped Dan to home in on the specific phrases they wanted to get across. As helpful as this was, Emma’s advice over how Dan should say what he wanted to say was even more useful.
She told Dan that the show would be a genuine discussion about his leak and the issues it raised, so he had to be prepared to deal with articulate doubters without losing his cool. “Everyone sees you as the underdog,” she explained, “so don’t be afraid to play that role. If you’re struggling, just say you feel ambushed and you don’t have a team of scriptwriters feeding you smart one-liners. You can be aggressive if you’re backed into a corner, but try not to be the aggressor. Does that make sense?”
Dan nodded and scanned the list of pre-approved questions that Marian de Clerk would ask him before inviting comments from the rest of the panel. At first glance, the list didn’t pose any problems; they were the kind of questions Dan had heard Billy Kendrick answer a thousand times. The first two questions were “If aliens are real, why haven’t we seen them?” and “If their home planet is far enough away that we haven’t detected it, how could they possibly get here?”
There was also a question about the Fermi Paradox and one about Billy Kendrick’s outspoken views on disclosure. Dan felt a lot calmer for having seen the list; it was Aliens 101.
“I think it’s impossible that intelligent extraterrestrial beings could exist without us knowing,” Emma suddenly said.
Dan looked up from his list, taken aback by the outburst. “What?”
“It’s ridiculous. Your whole claim is ridiculous,” she said. After a few seconds of Dan staring at her blankly, she clapped her hands. “Defend yourself!”
“Uh…”
“Uh is no good,” Emma scolded. “Uh is for children and liars.”
“Uh…”
“Children and liars!”
Dan took two deep breaths. “You can’t just say it’s ridiculous,” he said in a surprisingly authoritative tone. “You have to tell me why it’s ridiculous. Tell me why it’s ridiculous to think that this tiny little planet is the only one with intelligent life on it. If you want to talk about ridiculous, let’s talk about how ridiculously arrogant it is to think that we’re the smartest thing in an infinite universe.”
Emma’s expression softened into a smile. “Correct.”
As the start of filming drew closer, someone in the control room knocked on the glass window and called Emma through. Dan watched as she listened to whatever they were telling her. Emma was a master at keeping her emotions to herself when she had to, so Dan had no idea whether the news was good. When Emma left the control room, Dan turned away from the window to pretend he hadn’t been watching.
“They’ve got some historian lined up to talk about the U-boats, and they want to know if we’re okay with adding him to the panel,” she said.
“Definitely,” Dan said.
Emma hesitated. “I’m not so sure. The firm isn’t too hot on the whole Nazi angle. A lot of people have difficulty buying into it. People don’t like Nazis, and people don’t easily buy into things they don’t like.”
“If Nazi officials found the craft, Nazi officials found the craft,” Dan said. “And if they tried to hide it, then we’re getting one over on them by revealing it. Why don’t we frame it like that?”
Emma didn’t say anything.
“It could work in our favour, anyway,” Dan said. “Because think about it: everyone must know that I wouldn’t have chosen to lump the alien discovery in with old Nazi conspiracies. Because, A) it makes it sound more far-fetched than it has to, and B) if I had dreamt up this detailed plot of secret Nazi alien discoveries, I wouldn’t have wasted it on a fake leak. I would have turned it into a screenplay.”
“You definitely can’t say that,” Emma said.
“Can’t say what?”
“Anything about “if I had made this up”. You can’t bring that into the discourse. If you want people to think you’re telling the truth, you can’t concede any other possibility. Not ever.”
“But it’s nuance,” Dan said. “It shows that I’m self-aware.”
Emma was shaking
her head. “We’re not shooting for nuance. This is TV; everything is black and white. We can have the U-boat guy on if you really want him, but you can’t say anything about what you would or wouldn’t have done if you’d made it all up.”
“Okay.”
“It’s just a seed we don’t want to plant,” Emma said, continuing to explain even though Dan had stopped arguing. She turned to the window and gave a thumbs up, okaying the U-boat expert. “Because even if you say “I’m not a greedy liar”, that still brings the idea of you being a greedy liar into the discussion. And “McCarthy says he’s not a greedy liar” is a bad headline, because your face beside the words “greedy liar” is a bad front page. Do you understand why?”
“I guess.”
“You can’t say that, either. Guesswork is for people who don’t know the facts.”
“Fine. I understand,” Dan said, rolling his eyes.
Emma glanced at the clock in the control room next door. “Three minutes until they start filming the China segment,” she read from the clock. “We start shooting forty minutes after that.”
Dan no longer took exception to Emma saying we; by this point, he was thoroughly glad to have her. “How much are we getting paid for this, by the way?” he jokingly asked.
Emma suppressed a smile. “It should cover those clothes from yesterday, let’s just say that.” She sat in her chair next to the camera, on the opposite side from the TV that would soon show Dan the other panellists, and took a small plastic folder from her bag.
“What’s in there?” Dan asked.
Emma removed five sheets of paper. “Dirt,” she said.
“What?”
“On the other panellists. It’s not my work, before you bite my head off.” She handed Dan the sheets.
His eyes scanned the top page, which was about Joe Crabbe. Under the headline “Infidelity (conclusive, photographic)”, Dan read sordid details of Joe Crabbe’s extramarital affair with his cleaner. The cleaner happened to be an undocumented immigrant, which added a layer of irony given Crabbe’s well known views on border control. Dan couldn’t stop wondering how a story like this hadn’t come out publicly.
Not Alone Page 13
