Dark Nights

by Christopher A. Gray

  Whatever agenda Persaud is playing out, Doug thought, looking around him as he snapped to attention and strode to the shuttle bus, I warned her that I would not be deterred. She's on her own. Whatever she's playing at, she is on her own.

  “I can guess what you're thinking,” Jamieson said to him quietly. “We can do what we have to do. I don’t know what’s going on with Persaud and Foley either. It doesn’t matter. You’re as well prepared as anyone can be. We can pick a fight over this in Seattle if we have to.” Doug nodded at Jamieson as he led the way onto the bus.

  The bus shuttled the passengers a short distance so they could board the waiting aircraft. Outwardly the Condor appeared almost identical to the Copernicus except that it had more side windows and lacked the rear engines. The interior was more airliner-like, with the cockpit closed off from the passenger compartment. There was double-row seating on each side with an aisle in between. There would have been room for triple-row seating on each side but the seats were wider than normal, with a small flat surface in between. Passengers were separated by a comfortable distance from each other. Maybe, Doug thought, this is the true utopian future. The one where everyone gets enough elbow room to actually relax on a plane. This version of the plane appeared to be a luxury model that could accommodate about thirty. There was a lounge at the rear of the aircraft.

  Doug was given a window seat on the port side with Stacey in the aisle seat. They fastened their seatbelts and Doug heard the familiar low whine of the engines as they taxied to the runway.

  Takeoff was brisk and Doug was again impressed by the high rate of climb. The engines were no doubt very compact since they were concealed in the root of each wing, but they were extremely powerful. Back home, engineers were having trouble designing an engine that performed well at low speeds while also being capable of pushing the aircraft above Mach 2.5. The engineers on FLO had solved the problem. Once at altitude the Condor series routinely operated at speeds above Mach 4.

  Within thirty minutes they neared the apogee of their climb and Doug could clearly see the curvature of the Earth. It was a beautiful sight.

  “How long is the flight?” Doug asked, as pleasantly as he could.

  “Under ninety minutes,” Stacey replied. “With airport processing, it’s about a two-hour trip for the public. Of course the Condor series isn’t that common and commands a premium fare.”

  Incredible, Doug thought. With all the security measures in place back home the same route would require two hours over and above a six hour flight. Traveling like this, people didn’t even need a meal much less have time to watch a movie.

  Doug realized Lau had most of the same personality characteristics as her counterpart on Earth. She was affable, knowledgeable, and tried to answer questions as succinctly as possible. The difference was that he didn’t really know this one, and wasn’t at all sure if she’d been truthful claiming to be “just the messenger” when questioned about Persaud. Doug wondered how honest she would, or could, be. Might as well find out, he thought.

  “What is the consensus of opinion about my mission, Stacey? About my team’s mission? Are you engaged in a mercy effort for your unfortunate, doomed cousins from a somewhat inferior world?”

  She looked at him, her eyes moving across his face.

  “I’m not here to mislead you. This meeting with Mekhos is expected and necessary. None of us want to see your planet and its people suffer. We’re tied together, more than mere neighboring countries, more than simply relatives in some far off land. Over half of your adult population is identical to ours! How can we not be emotionally affected?”

  “That doesn’t—”

  “I know. You want answers, not sympathy. And you want Dr. Persaud here,” Lau said with as much emphasis as she could without actually raising her voice. “I get that. I really do. I really don’t know why she isn’t here now. I only know what I was told.”

  “That still doesn’t help me,” Doug replied.

  “Yes, I know,” Lau said, then stopped and looked ahead for a moment, her head bowed slightly. She raised her head and turned to look at him.

  “The truth is, the UN can offer its opinion to Mekhos, but when it comes to world affairs, or in this case, moving moons and planets, Mekhos has the deciding vote. No country wants to admit that, but it’s true. Your meeting with Mekhos could go a lot of different ways. I would advise you to think logically, present your best argument, and accept the outcome, whatever it may be. Mekhos cannot be coerced.”

  Doug thought about that for a moment. He realized Stacey was the first person he had met on this trip who had given him an honest, pragmatic answer. Honest and pragmatic as long as I and everyone else on Earth are willing to lay down and accept whatever happens, Doug thought.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He turned to look out the window again. It suddenly wasn’t pleasant out there anymore. None of it belonged to him.

  – 73 –

  Remaining in the office was a risk. The longer Bishop stayed the greater the chance he would be asked a question he couldn’t answer. But his mission required that he remain credible for two days. Bishop rose from his desk and informed the others he would be out of the office the rest of the day doing field work.

  “Don’t tell me you’re missing another meeting,” Philips said looking up quickly. “What do you want me to tell the big man?”

  “I need to check something out. Just cover for me,” Bishop replied, as he walked out of the office. Missing a meeting was suspicious, but not as much as attending one in which he might be required to provide details only a long-term employee and insider would know. If he couldn’t give a satisfactory answer they might use his difficulties and his personality against him as a basis to temporarily kick him out of the office or suspend him, or worse. Not what he needed for the next two days. In three, he’d be long gone if everything went according to plan.

  Bishop drove to his apartment and changed into casual clothes, then made himself a salami sandwich, wrapped it and put it into a paper bag. He walked a half mile to a nearby plaza and found the car Rector’s operative had left for him. It was an old Pontiac Firebird from the 1970s, without a single electronic aid. It was illegal on major highways, but could still be driven in some urban areas and on secondary roads.

  In good condition the rare car would draw attention from automobile enthusiasts and collectors, but this one had faded paint, some rust and a few dents. Nobody would give it a second look. Bishop got in and started the engine. It fired immediately and settled down to a satisfying rumble, in perfect tune. Bishop drove to Volunteer Park Conservatory.

  He parked the car at and walked to a relatively secluded area of the park. Rector was already there, dressed in jeans and a casual sport jacket, wearing a cap and sunglasses with an expensive looking digital SLR camera hanging from a strap on his right shoulder. Rector looked like a tourist, standing there with a park map in his hand. Bishop sat on a bench about three meters away. He reached into the paper bag for his sandwich and started eating.

  “Need any directions?” Bishop asked.

  “The park is just how I expected it to be,” replied Rector.

  “Glad to hear it. Sometimes they have a guide here. You can either enter information yourself in the terminal or talk to a guide directly.

  “Verbal is easier for the other person to understand,” Rector said as he walked away, looking to his left at a messy area next to a garbage can. “I wish they’d keep this park a little cleaner.”

  After a minute Bishop finished his sandwich. He crumpled up the bag and walked by the garbage can, tossing the bag. It missed the container and landed on the ground near a folded piece of paper. Bishop leaned down and retrieved the paper, placing it in his pocket as he stood while simultaneously tossing the crumpled bag into the receptacle. He walked out of the park back to his car.

  – 74 –

  The Condor landed at Joint Base Lewis-McChord near Seattle. Doug, Jamieson, Stace
y and various officials were driven to the MC office for orientation in advance of Doug’s meeting with Mekhos scheduled for the following morning. They would be given a tour of the MC building, after which they would be taken to a nearby luxury hotel for the night. After the brief orientation the administrator pulled Doug and Jamieson aside.

  Dr. Lockwood,” the admin said quietly, “I regret to inform you that Norman Stravinsky has been called away on a security matter. Your meeting with him has been cancelled. Your meeting with Mekhos will still go ahead as planned.”

  Doug was stalled momentarily by the news. A conversation with Stravinsky might at least have shed light on how to best communicate with Mekhos.

  “What security matter would preclude him from meeting with visitors from another Earth?” said Doug calmly, regaining his composure. “As a man of science I’m sure Dr. Stravinsky would do everything he could to attend the meeting.”

  “I’m sorry Dr. Lockwood, but that is all the information I have at the moment.”

  Another setback. No Foley and now no Stravinsky. Okay, Doug thought. Persaud should be here soon. Mekhos is the primary consideration, and that’s still a go. Doug exchanged glances with Jamieson, then nodded his understanding at the admin.

  The MC building was not unlike any other government agency installation with security check points at entrances, key card access doors, fingerprint access and plenty of security cameras. The structure was only a couple of years old and was light and airy despite the high security, no doubt a result of this society’s preoccupation with comfortable ergonomics.

  After the short tour the group gathered in the lobby. Doug turned to Stacey.

  “I assume you’ve been in communication with your people. I need Dr. Persaud here. Our plans – our communications strategy for the meeting with Mekhos – Dr. Persaud has been the biggest contributor. Her absence is a major difficulty for me, more so than the absence of Dr. Stravinsky.”

  Lau looked at him for a moment, then blinked a few times. She looked uncomfortable.

  “I received additional information about Dr. Persaud just a few minutes ago. She has been, ah, reassigned,” replied Stacey. She took a small step back.

  Doug was taken by surprise for the fourth time that day. Nobody on FLO had the authority to reassign a member of his team.

  “What do you mean by reassigned? To where? You know full well her presence here is required. I think it will be best if you get both Dr. Persaud and Dr. Foley on the phone so I can speak to them and sort this out.”

  “I’m sorry Dr. Lockwood, but it is probably best if we just move on.”

  “I don’t think so, Stacey.” Doug replied, staring hard at her, his anger rising. The group moved away, giving the two of them some professional distance. “I feel like someone or something has deliberately chipped away at my resources here. What is going on? I want an answer, now.”

  “All right,” Stacey replied after a moment. Evidently she had been listening to someone talking in her earpiece. “Some complications have arisen with regard to Dr. Persaud. We have discovered she has not been entirely truthful about her role in this mission. She is being debriefed back at Andrews.”

  Doug didn’t like the sound of the word “debriefed.” He caught Jamieson’s eye and waved him over. Doug and his team suspected that Envoy members back on Earth had been “debriefed” too and that the process was unpleasant to say the least.

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Doug said flatly, as Jamieson walked over to stand next to him.

  “Persaud and Foley’s missions are quite clear. Dr. Persaud and I are supposed to be present in the meeting with Mekhos. Are you implying she is some sort of spy?

  “No, we just—”

  Doug cut her off.

  “Get Dr. Foley on the phone. Now.”

  Bishop arrived at that moment with another agent in tow.

  “Is everything all right here?” said Bishop.

  “We are missing two of our team members,” Jamieson said, “and information about why they are not here seems to be sparse.”

  Doug immediately recognized Bishop. For an instant he wondered if it was the one native to FLO, but then Bishop clicked a pen he was holding in his left hand ‒ the verification that it was the man he knew back home. Doug stayed silent, letting Stacey make an introduction. It would give him a moment to think.

  “Dr. Lockwood, Commander Jamieson,” she said, “this is agent Bishop. He is one of the security supervisors here at the MC.”

  Doug and Jamieson shook hands with Bishop.

  “I know your double on the Twin,” Doug said, his alarm about Persaud and Foley momentarily taking a back seat to Bishop’s arrival. “Very capable.”

  Bishop nodded curtly, then turned to Jamieson.

  “Commander,” Bishop said to him, “your schedule begins now. You’ll be touring the MC with me.” Bishop tilted his head in the direction of a uniformed pair of MC security officers looking in their direction. “Dr. Lockwood is in good hands. If you need answers about the absence of Dr. Persaud and Dr. Foley, I’ll do what I can to help sort it out.”

  Jamieson got the message.

  “I’ll see you later Doug,” Jamieson said, “at the hotel.” He turned and walked toward the two security officers.

  “I hope you enjoyed the tour Dr. Lockwood,” Bishop said briskly, turning back to him. “I’m sure you’re looking forward to your meeting with Mekhos tomorrow. Not many of us have had such a meeting, so we’re a bit envious. Has the MC facility met your expectations so far?”

  Doug was agitated, but remained focused.

  “The facility seems excellent,” he said tightly, “but I’m much more concerned with the absence of Dr. Persaud from my team and the state of Dr. Foley. I’ve just been told Dr. Persaud has been detained.”

  Stacey turned away and spoke with one of her assistants. Bishop gestured to his subordinate.

  “Get Dr. Lockwood one of those energy coffee drinks.”

  “No, I’m fine, thanks,” Doug replied.

  “Once you try it you’ll be glad I insisted,” Bishop said, as his subordinate left. It seemed like a completely odd response, but Doug kept his mouth shut because he suddenly clued in that Bishop had his reasons for sending his staff away. As far as Stacey Lau was concerned, to all outward appearances the big security agent was distracting Doug, keeping him off balance and out of her hair. At the moment that was all she cared about.

  “Please ask for me personally if there’s anything I can do for you. We’re very pleased to have a man of your status visit us. I’ll look into the situation with Dr. Persaud and Dr. Foley.”

  Bishop offered to shake hands once again. He had positioned a neatly-folded piece of paper between his third and fourth fingers. As they shook hands Doug felt it immediately. He looked at Bishop.

  “I must tend to my duties now Dr. Lockwood. It was a pleasure. Please give Mekhos my best during your meeting tomorrow.”

  “Thank you for your offer,” Doug nodded, as Bishop left.

  Doug didn’t know what was going on, but all his experiences with security agents told him that he should keep quiet. He made a fist and kept his hands at his sides. Anybody noticing would just think he was angry at the situation. After a brief moment he put both hands into his pockets. He would examine the paper later in his room.

  – 75 –

  Carl Bertrand was glad to be back at his office in the TranSilica building. The second phase of the operation had been completed in his absence. There was much that still needed to be accomplished. The risks to himself and TranSilica were high, but the potential rewards were incalculable.

  He checked his calendar. He was scheduled to meet Director Edward in five minutes. Carl was keenly aware that his powerful boss would soon be retiring as the head of one of the world’s largest technology firms. But the Director still had substantial political influence in the United States and abroad. Carl would do well to continue cultivating his relationship with the sixty-seven ye
ar old, especially since the Director was known to have ruined the careers of anyone who had seriously opposed him during a long and notable career. Director Edward was also rumored to have been involved in the mysterious disappearance of a former friend and colleague. Carl knew just as well that it was completely possible that Edward had covertly spread such malicious rumors himself specifically to keep his toughest competitors off balance. The stories had circulated repeatedly over the years, but there’d never been a shred of proof to support any of them.

  Carl entered the Director’s office on the top floor. As always, Edward was dressed impeccably, not a speck of dust on his jacket or a hair out of place. He had few adornments on his desk. He looked up as Carl sat down in front of the desk.

  “I just received word from our operative. We have the sequence, and we’re on schedule.”

  “There will no doubt be collateral damage at the various sites,” said Edward. “Make sure the appropriate press releases and messages of condolence are prepared afterward and then distributed. Make sure nobody jumps the gun and prepares them ahead of time, Carl. We don’t want some MC snoop accidentally finding the wrong sorts of time stamps.”

  Edward was cold, logical and dispassionate as usual. Carl wondered if it was that trait in particular that had helped the man climb the social and political ladders and stay at the top, unchallenged for so many years.

  – 76 –

  When Doug got to his hotel room he went out onto the balcony, leaned against the side brick wall, and examined the paper. He knew the hotel was controlled by the NSA so he shielded the paper from any surveillance view as best he could. The paper contained a code string of some sort, an instruction sequence, and the message “memorize then destroy then repeat to Mekhos.”

  Doug had not been briefed on the details of Bishop’s mission. In fact, Bishop probably had various contingency plans to draw on as conditions warranted. He could even improvise in the field. He had the experience. In any case, the message had to be significant in some way. Doug’s unalterably scientific mind kept itself awake most of the night trying to make sense of the code. He kept coming back to Bishop’s parting line after they’d met at the MC. Give Mekhos my best during your meeting tomorrow.