Messiah

by J. E. Taylor

  Faces peered at the president, some with jaws hanging in shock, some with their hands over their mouths in an attempt to keep their horror in check and others, with wide, teary eyes.

  The silence thickened before the president continued, “However, we believe we can change the course of this meteor.”

  It took the matter of a blink for the room to go wild. Reporters jumped to their feet and fired questions in rapid succession.

  President Foster raised his palms and waited for the quiet to settle once again. “As I was saying, we believe we can prevent this disaster from occurring,” he said and sent a glance in Matthew and André’s direction.

  André remembered what his father told him the first time he encountered the press. They were a bunch of filthy vultures and right at this moment, they scared the daylights out of him. He offered a halfhearted smile and shot a sideways glance at Matthew.

  The president let the information he just shared with the press settle. He glanced back at Matthew and nodded, stepping to the side so they could approach the podium.

  Matthew stepped forward, leaving André along the wall near the door.

  The questions from the press box began to fly all at once, and Matthew held his hand up, waiting for the silence.

  “What’s the plan?” one of the reporters in the back called out as the room settled.

  “The plan is a little unorthodox...”

  A frazzled sergeant stepped onto the stage, interrupting Matthew. He hurried to the podium and slipped Matthew a piece of paper.

  Gleaning the thoughts of the sergeant, André almost choked, and the slow crawl of panic started in his stomach, echoing outward like a sound wave until it penetrated every cell in his body, freezing him in place.

  Matthew looked at the paper and back at the sergeant. He sent a glance in André’s direction and then addressed the crowd. “You will have to excuse me for a moment.”

  He slipped offstage, leaving André alone with the president to fend off the press.

  André stared at the chaos before him; questions shot out left and right and the president stepped to the podium. “As Commander Robbins stated, the plan is a bit unorthodox; however, if you quiet down, I will do my best to explain,” he said.

  The room immediately calmed. Reporters took their chairs and waited.

  Of all the thoughts swirling in the president’s head, André would have never guessed the one the president chose to lead with and when the words escaped the president’s lips, André wanted to disappear, to sink into the backdrop and back into obscurity.

  “How many of you remember the false reports of an alien in our solar system?”

  Almost all hands rose in response.

  The president looked in André’s direction. “Those reports were not false.”

  Pandemonium broke out on the floor and everyone in the press box jumped to his or her feet.

  André felt the heat bloom in his cheeks as a few press core gazes landed on him.

  “What does that have to do with the meteor?” one reporter shouted over the rest.

  “It seems that alien child has certain...gifts. Gifts such as telekinesis, and he has offered to push the meteor off course so it doesn’t collide with Earth.”

  Silence fell on the room and the president turned, waving toward André. “Ladies and gentlemen, André Robbins.”

  The room erupted. Questions flew like a hailstorm pounding the domes. André stared, unable to move or speak in the frenzy.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the president bellowed, “one question at a time.” He pointed to a female reporter with the Chicago Tribune. “Grace.”

  “How old are you?” she asked André.

  “Seventeen,” André answered, surprised at the strength in his voice.

  “Ted.” The president pointed to another reporter.

  “Why are you here?” Ted asked.

  André didn’t know how to answer that question. “Luck, I guess.” He wished his father was in the room to fend off the attack.

  The room exploded into questions again.

  “I will end this press conference if you continue to assault this child with questions all at once!” The president stepped in again and the room quieted down. Every reporter had their hands raised, waiting for their turn like an attentive class trying to impress the teacher.

  “Why did you leave your planet?” the reporter from the Denver Post asked.

  “I, uh...” André stumbled. “I, uh, I was exiled.”

  Low murmurs spread through the room, but the crowd behaved by the rules the president set forth.

  “Why?” another reporter called out before the president could pick the next reporter.

  “Because I was different,” he said and shifted from foot to foot, his palms clammy, and his stomach fluttering worse than Katrina with morning sickness. “That’s why they hunted me down, killed my parents and sent me into space to die.”

  Silence slammed down on the room as loud as a judge’s gavel, leaving only the buzzing of the equipment.

  André looked into the camera, certain his eyes reflected the fear coursing through his entire being. Without another word, he fled the room.

  Chapter 16

  André walked into his father’s office.

  “We intercepted a transmission, André,” Matthew said with an earpiece still plastered to the side of his head, listening.

  “What kind of transmission?”

  Matthew took a deep breath. “I’m not sure,” he said. “It came from behind the meteor and I’d like you to listen to it to confirm the origin.”

  André nodded; Matthew pressed a few commands on the computer screen and the voice filled the office. Four seemingly innocent words with a slight variation in inflection and pronunciation but not that far off from Earth’s language: “Life in dis sector.”

  Four words spoken by a voice André would never forget.

  A voice responsible for carrying out all manner of horrors. André’s face and hands went cold with recognition. He shivered. “It’s Zyclonian.”

  Matthew studied him and André shifted in the seat under his father’s stark gaze. He shut down his mind, closing it off, keeping his thoughts under quarantine. “If they find out...” He closed his mouth and glanced at his father. If they find out I’m alive, the meteor will be the least of our worries.

  “It’s been over ten years since you were exiled,” Matthew said, standing and walking around the desk to face his son. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

  “Did you see the press conference?” André pointed to the screen on the wall, still broadcasting.

  Matthew shook his head. “No. Why?”

  “The president announced I’m an alien.”

  Matthew’s eyebrows rose.

  “And they are out there.” He pointed toward the window, the slow burn of panic lacing his skin. “Satellite feed, Dad. If they know I’m alive, they will come to destroy me.”

  Matthew’s phone squawked and he pressed the intercom. “Yes?”

  “Sir, we intercepted another transmission from the alien craft,” the voice notified Commander Robbins.

  Matthew looked at André. “What did it say?”

  “André lives.”

  Chapter 17

  “He can’t go with us,” André said, nodding toward the president. “It’s too dangerous now.”

  The president stared at André. “I’ve been in dangerous situations before.”

  “But not with someone who can kill you without even seeing you, sir,” André said, “and I’m not so sure I can protect you from that.”

  “You can move a sixty thousand ton rock but you can’t protect us from another person?” the president asked.

  André shrugged. “I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I don’t know how strong an adult Zyclonian is. All I know is I couldn’t stop them from killing my parents when I was six. I think I’m a hell of a lot stronger than I was then, but
I really have no reference point, sir, and I’d prefer not to put your life in jeopardy.” He looked between the president and his father. “Or yours either,” he said to Matthew.

  “You’ve got no choice, son,” Matthew answered. “There’s no way I’m letting you go up there alone.”

  President Foster nodded and turned his attention back to André. “I’m going up there with you and your father,” he said and looked at his watch. “And we are leaving in less than an hour.”

  André’s jaw fell. He glanced at his father and received a nod, confirming the decision. “With all due respect, sir, I do not want you up there.”

  “André, the president and I can take care of ourselves,” Matthew said.

  André clenched his fists and glared at the two of them. “Really?” He exercised a fraction of his strength, slamming them both back against the far wall and cutting off their airway with a slight tilt of his head. “For me, this is the equivalent of a five-yard toss,” he said, putting a reference point on his effort. He counted to ten; just about the time their eyes started to bulge from the lack of oxygen, he released them, watching as they crumpled to the ground. “That’s nothing compared to what could happen up there.”

  Matthew stood and stared at his son, the shock written in his expression, and he turned to the president. “Mitch, maybe you ought to stay here,” he said.

  The president’s breath still wheezed but he stood and straightened himself out before answering Matthew. “I am going,” he said, dismissing any argument and stared André down.

  André broke eye contact first. “Y’all’re nuts,” he drawled looking back at his father and the president. He put his hands on his hips and took a deep breath, shaking his head. “You better bring Captain Grey.”

  “Who the hell is Captain Grey?” the president asked.

  “He’s a medical officer and he knows about André,” Matthew answered. He walked over to the phone and picked it up, summoning Cal to his office.

  “Let’s go get our asses fried in space,” André snapped and turned away. Figures. I’ll probably die up there. That’s exactly what they wanted anyway. He stared at the sky through the window.

  “Mitch, will you excuse us for a moment?”

  President Foster nodded and slipped into the outer office.

  “André, you can’t go up with that attitude,” Matthew said.

  “Now or later, what’s the difference? I’ve basically sealed the fate of this planet.” He looked back at his father.

  “You don’t know that,” Matthew said and crossed the room. He put his hand on André’s shoulder.

  “The son of a bitch up there knows I’m here.” He glanced at the sky again. “He told them I’m alive and he knows I’m coming after him,” André whispered. “Please convince the president not to come with us. I can’t protect both of you.”

  A soft knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

  “Come in.” Matthew barked the command.

  Cal walked into Matthew’s office and the president followed.

  “Captain, I gather you saw the news conference,” Matthew addressed him.

  “Yes, sir.” Cal stood at attention. He saluted both Matthew and the president.

  “At ease,” the President said as he crossed the room and took a seat on the leather couch under the television monitor.

  André turned to Cal. “Hi.”

  “You can really stop the meteor?”

  André nodded and looked over at his father.

  “André thought it would be a good idea to have a medical officer on board with us,” Matthew said.

  Cal’s brow furrowed. “Why?” he asked, looking back at André. “Will doing this hurt you?”

  “Pushing the meteor off course won’t,” André answered.

  “But the Zyclonian space explorer might,” Matthew added.

  Cal raised his eyebrows. “There’s another ship out there?”

  “Yes,” Matthew answered. “And it’s not friendly.”

  Cal looked around the room and nodded. “When do we leave?” he directed at Matthew.

  “In less than an hour,” Matthew replied.

  “Okay, I’ll meet you at the outer base with the medical supplies I’ll need for the three of us,” Cal answered.

  “Four,” President Foster said. “I’m going as well.”

  “Three,” Matthew corrected and gave a dismissive nod to Cal.

  Cal glanced at the three men, his gaze lingering on André before he left the room.

  Matthew waited until the door closed and turned to the president. “Mr. President, you can’t go with us,” he stated, throwing down the gauntlet.

  President Foster stared in disbelief. “Bullshit.”

  “Mitch, you can’t,” Matthew addressed him as a friend instead of as a subordinate. “You have a responsibility to steer clear of a known ambush. That is what we are doing. If we were just going up there to move a meteor, then yes, I’d welcome your company. But we know there’s a hostile presence up there. One aimed at killing my son.” He paused and glanced in André’s direction. “If his little display earlier is a preview of what could happen, then I have to stand firm on this. I will not clear you to be on that ship.”

  “Then I’ll fire you and get someone who will clear me.”

  “That is your prerogative, sir.” Matthew stood up. “I’ll clear my things from this office.” He began to stack his personal belongings in the center of the desk.

  “Goddamn it, Matthew!” President Foster snapped.

  Matthew looked up at him. “Am I fired?”

  President Foster glared at Matthew. “No,” he spat. He looked between André and Matthew and then stormed out of the room.

  “Thank you,” André said.

  “There are still three of us on board,” Matthew said.

  “I’m aware of that.” He glanced at his father. “Do I need to get a change of clothes or something?”

  “No, we have flight suits,” Matthew replied.

  “Change of underwear?” André raised an eyebrow and offered a smile.

  “No,” Matthew answered, his expression stern enough for André to ditch any further attempt at levity. “Let’s go,” he added and led André out of the office to the hovercraft in the parking lot.

  Outer base was twenty minutes away on the southeasternmost point of the dome wall, and André tried to focus on the task ahead, but all he kept hearing was that voice in the speakers and he shivered.

  “You don’t seem concerned that Captain Grey will be with us.”

  “Cal will be fine,” André said, studying the transitioning scenery.

  Matthew glanced at his son. “You know the captain’s first name?”

  André nodded without looking at Matthew, keeping his mind blank. “We talked quite a bit this summer.”

  Matthew remained quiet, casting glances in André’s direction, a crease appearing between his eyes. “You opened his barrier, didn’t you?”

  André pressed his lips together, irritated that his father could read him so easily.

  “André, it’s not safe to open barriers of just anyone.”

  “He’s a medical officer and he’s known about me since day one.” André turned toward his father. “He saved my life once already, or did you forget?”

  Matthew’s face went red. “I didn’t forget.”

  “I trust him,” André said. “So should you. He’s worked the powers in his mind to the point he is almost as strong as Katrina.”

  Matthew looked in his direction. “How powerful is Katrina?”

  “She saved Anna’s life today,” André said, looking out the window again. “Anna was going to kill Katrina, so I blew up her craft.” He summed up the event, glancing at his father again. “Kat put a barrier around Anna so she wouldn’t get hurt in the explosion.”

  “You tried to kill someone?”

  “I reacted. She intended on killing Kat, and I had to stop her,” he answered.

&nbs
p; “Why the hell would she want to kill Katrina?”

  “Because my vibe drove her over-the-edge crazy,” André said. “Can we talk about something else?” He glanced at his father. “Please?”

  “You told Katrina what happened this morning?”

  André sighed. “Yes.”

  “And that’s all she did to you?” He nodded toward André’s face.

  “Yes,” André answered and his mind traveled to the shower. He couldn’t wipe away the thoughts or the grin that formed fast enough.

  Matthew swerved, glaring at André. “In my house?”

  André blushed.

  “I could just wring your neck.”

  “I’m sorry, but she’s my wife. Besides, it broke whatever spell I was transmitting.” André sensed the resignation in his father and met his sideways glance.

  Matthew sighed. “I’m glad I won’t have to be privy to that anymore.”

  André nodded. “Me too,” he answered as they pulled into the outer base.

  MATTHEW MARCHED DIRECTLY to Cal as soon as they arrived at the base. “I understand you allowed my son to convert you.”

  Cal nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Matthew scanned the captain’s mind and sized him up. He found nothing that would prevent him from coming on the trip, quite the contrary. This man would die to protect André, just as Matthew would. “Fine,” he replied, satisfied with what he dug out of the captain’s mind.

  “He’s a special kid,” Cal replied.

  “Yes he is.” Matthew followed Cal’s gaze to where André stood. “It’s been a tough year, though.” He looked back at Cal.

  Cal nodded. “I imagine so, but at least he had honorable intentions.”

  Matthew smiled. “Not always,” he said. “Sometimes he’s just a rebellious, impulsive teenager.”

  Cal laughed. “I can see that, too. I have no idea how I would have dealt with the collective female population throwing themselves at me.”