The Null Prophecy

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The Null Prophecy Page 17

by Michael Guillen


  The reporter would stare at him with wide eyes. “But why? Why are you doing this? You told the world you wanted to do good, not destroy civilization as we know it.”

  “But that’s exactly why I’ve done this. Today’s electronic civilization, today’s economy, is stacked against the little guys. They don’t stand a chance against corporate greed and government corruption. The only way to fix the problem, the only way to bring about meaningful change is to wipe the slate clean and start from scratch—send the world back to the Stone Age.

  “You see, the key is realizing that in this day and age you don’t, and can’t, destroy the rigged system with bombs or politics. You destroy it electronically by revealing its dirty little secrets—the billions of secrets propping up the wealthy and enslaving the poor. Bank account numbers, social security numbers, passwords, classified information, e-mails, phone numbers, addresses—Quantum I is pulling back the curtain on all of it, so no one will have power over anyone else. Destroying secrets, destroying privacy—it’s the great leveler. More effective than a bazillion A-bombs.”

  “But what about you? Where do you fit in all this chaos?”

  “Even as we speak, the Quantum I virus is utterly sabotaging the old, crooked system and putting me and my army in control of all information. You’ll see, in the weeks ahead, under my rule, everyone will get a bank account with the same amount of money in it. Since I will effectively become the world’s central bank, after erasing all existing account records, I’ll make sure the reallocation of wealth is fair to everyone, not just fat cats like my old man.”

  An unexpected sound snapped Jared out of his make-believe world. He hunkered, his muscles taut and ready to send him flying out the door. Looking around him, he seized the handle of a hefty broom. Then he waited, straining to make sense of the sounds he was hearing.

  People.

  One voice stood out from the others. A woman. Clear, bossy.

  “Pitsy, right here,” it ordered. “It’s the perfect spot.”

  Pitsy.

  Pitsy.

  He knew the name. Then it came to him.

  It’s the people from Fast News!

  “They’re setting up the podium over there and the sun’s going to be setting over there, so it’s perfect. Right here.”

  FRIDAY, APRIL 28 (7:23 P.M. MOUNTAIN DAYLIGHT TIME)

  BOULDER, COLORADO

  On the flight to Boulder, Dallan kept hearing Allie’s voice.

  I need evidence.

  Evidence.

  Evidence.

  She’d see it soon enough. In spades.

  The sun was lowering by the time his plane touched down. His intention was to head straight for the office and arrange for a leave of absence; they could manage without him for another few weeks. Tomorrow he’d fly to Jerusalem to help look for Lolo.

  Striding through the airport, he kept glancing out the oversized windows. It was the first time in a week he was seeing the sun set. He smiled. The gathering darkness came as a relief—like exhaling after holding your breath for a long time.

  He booted up his cell, expecting to find messages from the Denver detective he contacted before leaving Alert. Instead, there were six missed calls from the SWPC.

  He dialed his assistant, who answered after the first ring.

  “Dallan! Oh, thank goodness!”

  “What’s up?”

  “Well, first of all, we’re all really upset to hear about Lorena. The police called here looking for you.”

  “Yeah, I know. Thanks.” He added, “Is that it? Is that why you left me all the messages?”

  “Oh, man, no. It’s the sun. Where are you? When can you get here?”

  SATURDAY, APRIL 29 (9:32 A.M. CHINA STANDARD TIME)

  SHANGHAI JIAO TONG UNIVERSITY; SHANGHAI, CHINA

  Dr. Zhaohui Tang—sitting in her office, as always—did not feel kindly toward her nation’s close neighbors, the Japanese. She never had and this was one more reason.

  For the past seventy-two hours she’d been following with mounting anger the news of Nagasaki’s reprehensible whalers just across the East China Sea, less than five hundred miles away. Now she was truly furious. A China Central TV reporter was saying the whalers’ rapaciousness had apparently triggered some kind of ripple effect suddenly afflicting China’s very own shores.

  “The mass stranding off the coast of Shanghai began about an hour ago . . .”

  SATURDAY, APRIL 29 (11:04 A.M. AUSTRALIAN CENTRAL STANDARD TIME)

  CHARLES DARWIN UNIVERSITY; CASUARINA, AUSTRALIA

  Sara rushed to the edge of Lulu’s tank. The juvenile pilot whale was re-exhibiting signs of madness after being normal for the past few days—ever since Sara’s dad was there.

  “Dirk!” she yelled, reaching out to Lulu in an attempt to quiet her down. “Over here. Quick!”

  CHAPTER 24

  HOME AGAIN

  FRIDAY, APRIL 28 (7:35 P.M. PACIFIC DAYLIGHT TIME)

  SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA

  During the long return trip to San Diego, Allie aired reports about the deadly Arctic tornado and the magnetic holes growing and shrinking in various parts of the world. “It’s as if they have minds of their own,” she explained, “which makes it hard to predict what will happen next.” She also broke the news about the hypothesized connection between the magnetic anomalies and whale strandings; the strandings appeared to come and go in step with the holes.

  Eva told her the news reports were causing a sensation, with other reporters frantically trying to play catch-up. “This is gonna make your arrival a bigger story than ever, so get ready for an onslaught. But don’t worry; I’ll be there to manage things.”

  In actuality Allie was distracted by a multiplicity of other concerns. For one, the seeming coincidence between their rescue mission’s own movements and the comings and goings of whale strandings and magnetic anomalies—as just happened in the Arctic. And for others: Lorena’s disappearance, Dallan’s odd behavior, and her growing amorous feelings for Calder and her befuddlement about what to do about it.

  As the San Diego Bay came into view—awash in a darkening, golden light—her mind pushed aside all the worries and was seized by a single, euphoric thought.

  Unbelievable! He’s done it! He’s made history!

  He’ll probably even get the Nobel Prize!

  Hero’s loud arrival bell shattered the silence inside the cabin.

  “Calder, congratulations!” she said. “It’s amazing, really. This is going to change everything!”

  “Thanks, Allie.”

  On this final leg of the mission Calder had opened Hero’s throttle nearly all the way, just to prove how fast she could go. According to him she averaged 551 knots.

  Hero glided slowly across the water toward Point Loma for their grand entrance. The sun was setting; lights were coming on.

  Earlier, they were told civilian watercraft would be banned from the area for security reasons. But a gaggle of helicopters and blimps circled noisily overhead. They were joined by earsplitting, deep-throated air horns blasting from Navy ships anchored all around them.

  It reminded her of the Fourth of July.

  “Calder, before we both get swallowed up by the media circus, I just want to say thanks for letting me tell the story.”

  “Allie, thank you. I would’ve gone bonkers out there by myself. Really.”

  She giggled. “So I didn’t drive you crazy with all my questions?”

  “Are you kidding? They helped keep me going.” Then he said, “Anyway, now it’s my turn to ask a question.”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “Would you consider going out to dinner with me? To celebrate?”

  She froze for a moment and then said, “Of course. When? Uh, let me check with—”

  “Welcome home, girlfriend!” Eva’s voice over the IFB was extra loud. “Can you see what’s happening? Stu’s cut a deal with just about everybody in the world to let them cover the arrival up close. It’s a zoo out here. I�
��ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Hey, chica. Yeah, I see it.”

  But her mind was on Calder’s surprise invitation.

  Dinner!

  “You’re on in three,” Eva said. “Are you ready?”

  “What?”

  “You’re on in three minutes—so get ready. Brett’s doing the intro. This is your big close-up, babycakes!”

  Several minutes later Allie took a long, relaxing breath, flipped the switch, and on cue began broadcasting: “Yes, hello, everyone—as Brett just said, we’re only minutes away from pulling into the naval station. The big headline this afternoon is Hero has performed flawlessly throughout the entire three-day mission. It appears Dr. Sinclair has done it. He’s discovered a whole new energy source that will change the course of human history—and that’s no exaggeration.”

  FRIDAY, APRIL 28 (7:47 P.M. PACIFIC DAYLIGHT TIME)

  When the lighted landing area came into clear view he was shocked by the size and color of the spectacle awaiting them. He’d never seen so many TV cameras. Even the Navy band was out in full force, performing “When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again.”

  Be careful what you ask for.

  “I warned you,” Allie said. “Get ready.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  After Navy personnel lashed Hero to the pier he shut down her systems, one by one. “Thanks, ol’ girl,” he whispered, patting the console.

  Allie was on the air when he said to her in a loud voice, “Ready to go ashore?”

  “Ay, ay, sir.” Then she said, “That was Dr. Sinclair. He’s about to open the hatch, so I need to sign off now. Brett, it’s good to be home! Back to you.”

  He pushed open the windshield and heard an ovation that rivaled ones he’d witnessed at USC-UCLA football games. The applause and cheers continued—the band played “The Stars and Stripes Forever”—while he and Allie wriggled out of the cabin. They stood on the pier for a few moments to regain their land legs.

  He waved both hands at the delirious throng, which appeared to be equal parts military and civilian. Then he turned to Allie, clasped her hand, and lifted it in a gesture of victory. “Allie, you deserve this.”

  The crowd went wild.

  “Thank you, Calder,” she said. “Thank you, everybody!”

  Halfway to the podium he and Allie were met by the governor. “Welcome home, Doctor, welcome home! Bravo! Bravo!” He gave Calder a hearty, telegenic handshake, all the while smiling into the cameras. Then facing Calder, he whispered, “I’m going to say a few words then turn it over to you, okay?”

  Calder nodded.

  “Allie, well done,” the governor said, leaning forward and giving her a quick handshake.

  He then marched up to the podium with its large bouquet of microphones and waited for the attendees to quiet down. When finally they did, he said, “The Nobel laureate Pearl S. Buck once remarked, ‘The young do not know enough to be prudent and therefore they attempt the impossible—and achieve it, generation after generation.’ This evening we’re here to bear witness to the completion of an expedition every bit as audacious and significant as man’s first landing on the moon. More so, really, when you consider the implications of what Dr. Sinclair has achieved. Not since the invention of the wheel or the automobile or the airplane, not since humans first dreamed of finding a perfect energy source—limitless, clean energy—has there been a moment such as this. You all know him. You’ve been following his daring journey into the history books. Ladies and gentlemen all over the world, it’s my honor to welcome home to California—Dr. Calder Sinclair!”

  Calder, feeling faint, rocked on his heels.

  Is this real?

  Has the curse finally lifted?

  But he knew from long, painful experience he wouldn’t know for a while yet.

  Bellying up to the microphones, he stood silently while the crowd whooped it up. He scanned the happy faces, indicating his gratitude with quick nods, but paused when he spotted Allie’s producer. She was at the back wearing a headset. He gave her a wink and she replied with two upraised thumbs.

  The wiry-haired wizard behind the curtain.

  When the applause finally played out he opened his mouth, not knowing what he wanted to say. He wished Allie were standing alongside him.

  “Thank you,” he said hoarsely. He cleared his throat. “Before anything else, I’d like to acknowledge and thank my cockpit companion: TV’s number-one science reporter, Allie Armendariz.” The throng erupted anew.

  He turned to her and shouted over the deafening noise, “Thank you, partner! Thank you!” Smiling broadly, she bowed slightly and gave him a snappy salute.

  He faced the multitude again and began speaking. “For me, this day represents the culmination of a lifetime of work. It began with a simple dream to build a speed boat as fast as a jet plane. As I grew older, the dream became more ambitious, more mature until finally I became convinced the quantum vacuum held the answer to all our modern problems. That instead of tearing into the earth looking for coal or oil or gas—instead of blanketing the landscape with acres of ugly solar panels and deadly wind-powered generators—everything we ever wanted, ever needed, existed within what most people assumed contained absolutely nothing: a perfect vacuum.

  “Along the way lots of people told me it couldn’t be done. That I was tilting at windmills. Well, it so happens I grew up in a part of the world, Spain, where tilting at windmills is considered a high calling, and committing to not give up until succeeding, a sacred duty.

  “I didn’t do this alone. I’ve been helped all along, in ways large and small, by many people. Some of them, like my parents, are dead—may they rest in peace. But some are still alive. And among them is a very special woman I’d like to single out right now.

  “She was like a mother to me when I was very young and still is. I had the privilege of seeing her when we were in Cádiz. It was a great surprise. She is the Reverend Mother Abbess Yolanda Jimenez, a Franciscan nun who runs the orphanage where I grew up. She needs our help.”

  He explained the orphanage’s plight and asked people to help save it from certain death. “If it hadn’t been for Mother Yolanda and the orphanage I wouldn’t be standing here before you now. And Hero would not exist. For that, and for your warm welcome today, I will be eternally grateful. Thank you!”

  FRIDAY, APRIL 28 (10:34 P.M. PACIFIC DAYLIGHT TIME)

  Three hours following the start of Hero’s welcoming ceremonies, the only ones left were TV people breaking down equipment, cleaning crews picking up trash, and a local radio reporter wrapping up an interview with Calder at the pier.

  Standing close by, Allie spotted a bulky figure rapidly approaching.

  “There you are!” the figure called out.

  She narrowed her eyes for a better look.

  Carlos!

  “Shhh!” she said to him, quickly gesturing him to follow her. When they were a respectable distance away from Calder’s interview she hugged him. “Wow! How great to see you, Bro. Thank you for coming!”

  “I would’ve been here sooner but the security people didn’t believe I was your brother. I told them to tell you, but they refused because you were mobbed. They finally let me in just now, after your producer vouched for me.”

  “Oh, Carlos, I’m so sorry. But it’s really awesome you came. It’s the best homecoming I could have. Thank you!” She hugged him again. “How’s Lolo? Anything new?”

  He shook his head. “No, they’re still looking. The detective in Denver told me the Israeli police are doing everything possible to get the word out—even asking the media for help. They don’t want anything to happen to her that would cause an international incident. Our little sis is big news.”

  Her face fell. “But not good news.”

  “We need to have faith, Allie; she’s in God’s hands.”

  She nodded bleakly. “Yeah, I know.” She looked away and back. “How’s Mom?”

  “No change. But no worse either.” />
  “And Dad?”

  “Fine, fine, you know him: your biggest cheerleader. When I left, he was at the church with all the hermanos watching your reports on the big-screen TV we set up. It was like a huge fiesta, food and everything. You shoulda been there.”

  He laughed at himself. “Que tonto! Duh. You know what I mean.”

  She laughed. “I know. I wish I’d been there too.”

  “Hey, since I’m here I was wondering: Can I see inside the hangar? I’ve been following your trip and I find it really interesting even though I’m not smart like you.”

  She took a swipe at his arm. “Oh, c’mon—you’re not dumb. But hold on, okay?”

  She waited for Calder’s interview to finish and then went over to him with Carlos in tow.

  “Calder, this is my big brother, Carlos.”

  “Oh, hey, good to meet you.” The two shook hands. “I heard a lot of great things about you on the journey.”

  “She lies,” Carlos laughed.

  “Nah, I bet not.” Calder looked to her. “She loves her family, that’s for sure. She’s lucky to have you guys.”

  “Calder, Carlos wants to know if he could take a peek inside your hangar. I know you’re tired and probably—”

  “No, no. I’m so full of adrenaline right now it’s gonna take me days before I can sleep. Let’s do it!”

  It took just a few minutes to walk across the sand from pier to hangar.

  “Let’s go through the back door,” Calder said, leading them to a small, inconspicuous entrance. “I always leave it unlocked in case I forget my keys—which is way too often.”

  “Absent-minded professor, huh?” Allie joked.

  “Uh, guilty as charged.”

  CHAPTER 25

  NO REST FOR THE WEARY

  FRIDAY, APRIL 28 (10:53 P.M. PACIFIC DAYLIGHT TIME)

 

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