Independence Day: Crucible (The Official Prequel)

by Greg Keyes

  As he closed the distance, one of the camera crew noticed him. He said something into his face microphone, and the camera turned.

  “And here’s Dylan Hiller,” the reporter said. She was a young woman with short red hair. “You two have been friends since childhood,” she said. “How does it feel to be reunited for this momentous occasion?”

  “Well, we keep in touch,” Dylan said, “but we’ve got some catching up to do.”

  “Has your father made a decision about who is going to pilot the alien-hybrid prototype?” the reporter asked.

  “I don’t know,” Dylan said, “but if you want to ask him, he’s right over there.”

  She turned to look, as did the cameraman. Dylan grabbed Patricia’s hand and began to move away quickly.

  They were both laughing as they burst out onto the street.

  “Hey, you,” Patricia said. They exchanged a hug that felt way more awkward than it should have.

  “Place has changed a little since we were kids, huh?” he said.

  “To say the least,” she said. “I don’t recognize anything.”

  “Well, anything you would recognize is probably off-limits to us these days,” he said, “but I can give you a tour of the new stuff.”

  “That sounds fun,” she said. “I’ve got until five, and then Dad is giving some sort of press conference, and he wants me there.”

  “Sure,” he responded. “Come on.”

  They congratulated each other on getting into the Academy, and talked a little about what they thought it would be like. Now and then he pointed out a new landmark, but quickly realized that although a lot of building had taken place, most of the most interesting stuff was underground.

  “So, I guess your dad is proud you’re going to be a pilot?” she said.

  “Well, he always said he’d be proud of me whatever I chose to do.”

  She looked at him a bit skeptically.

  “Do you believe that?” she asked.

  He thought about it for a moment.

  “I believe he thinks he means it,” he said, “but every time I say I want to be a pilot, like him, he gets this certain look, and I know it wouldn’t be quite the same look if I wanted to be a librarian or a haberdasher or something.”

  “Haberdasher?” she said. “You’re going to hurt yourself, using words like that.”

  He smiled and shrugged. “Risks of a decent education. Anyway, I think the world sort of expects me to be a pilot.”

  “Didn’t we have this conversation two years ago?” she said.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Right before we both went off.”

  It was weird. On one level he felt like he knew Patricia really well, but there was something different—a distance, an awkwardness. She didn’t even look the same. She looked grown up. Which she was, and he probably looked different too.

  He spent the next half hour working up his nerve.

  “So,” he finally said. “While you’re here—would you maybe like to go out?”

  It sounded dreadful even as he said it. He didn’t have trouble asking girls out. It was kind of his thing—it was keeping one around that he wasn’t so good at. And yet, the words just seemed to clunk out of him like bricks.

  Her eyebrows rose slightly. “Do you mean like on a date?” she said, a little uncertainly.

  “Well—maybe,” he said. “What do you think?” But he could already tell from her apologetic expression.

  “I think I have a boyfriend back in Virginia,” she said.

  “Oh,” he said, suddenly wishing there was a deep hole he could step directly into. “Yeah, of course you do.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

  How could that be the wrong thing to say? He thought he knew something about girls. Patricia was raising serious doubts.

  “Well—look at you,” he said. “You’re smart, fun—the complete package.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Now you’re making me blush. Can we change the subject?”

  “Absolutely,” Dylan said, eager to do so. “Changing subject in five, four, three, two, one… What do you think about green chili pizza?”

  “I’m sure I’m at a total loss on that subject,” she said.

  “Well,” he said, “let me educate you. There’s a place right up here. My buddy Jake works there. He’s going to the Academy too, so you should meet him anyway.”

  * * *

  Jake knew he had seen the girl before, the moment she walked into Pizza 51, but he couldn’t for the life of him place where. She had honey-blond hair, dark eyes, and a very nice smile that went straight through him and left his toes tingling.

  One thing he was certain of—she wasn’t one of the local girls. There weren’t that many of them, and he would have noticed her for sure.

  Dylan was on his phone when they came in, so Jake just did his best to look friendly.

  “You must be Jake,” the young woman said, sticking out her hand.

  “That’s me,” he said, shaking it. “And you—I know you. From—ah—somewhere.”

  “Really,” she said. “Have we met?” From the way she said it, he knew they hadn’t, and she was having some fun with him.

  “No,” he said. “No—TV maybe? Magazines? Are you a model?”

  “Dylan didn’t tell me you were so smooth,” she said.

  “I’m not smooth,” Jake said. “Completely unsmooth. Just confused.”

  “She’s Patricia Whitmore,” Charlie piped up from the corner table, where he was doing his homework.

  Of course she is, Jake thought, giving himself a mental smack in the head. Dylan talked about her all the time, and naturally she would be coming to the celebration. There was no way Dylan could resist bringing her around to show her off.

  “Thanks, Charlie,” he said. “That didn’t make me look stupid at all.”

  “My pleasure,” Charlie replied. He didn’t look up.

  “So,” Jake said. “You’re in town.”

  “You’re very in the moment, aren’t you?” Patricia said. “Not thinking ahead, not thinking back just… right there. I like it.” Was she flirting with him or making fun of him? He couldn’t tell, but whichever it was, he didn’t want her to stop.

  Dylan put his phone back in his pocket.

  “Sorry,” he said. “That was Mom. She wants me to pick up a few things for dinner. Did you guys introduce yourselves?”

  “In a roundabout way,” Patricia said. “So Dylan says I should try the green chili pizza.”

  “It’s the specialty of the house,” Jake said. “I’ll get one started.”

  “You’re off shift in five minutes,” Charlie said. “I just saw Ronnie pull up.”

  “Good,” Patricia said. “You can join us, then, Jake. You too, Charlie.”

  * * *

  The pizza came out and Ronnie took over, so they adjourned to the long table in the back. Dylan pointed out that Patricia would be joining them at the Academy as well.

  “That’s great,” Jake said. “Congratulations.”

  “I’m going too,” Charlie chipped in.

  “What? This year?” Patricia said. “How old are you?”

  “I’m twelve,” Charlie said. “So I won’t get in this year, of course. But I’ll get in.”

  “He will,” Jake said. “Smart as a whip.”

  “Do your parents work at the Center?” she asked.

  “Um, no,” Charlie said.

  “Charlie and Jake are sort of—orphans,” Dylan said.

  “Oh,” Patricia said. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Charlie said. “You’re sort of a half-orphan, so you can be in the club.”

  Jake kicked at Charlie’s feet under the table.

  “Well… okay,” Patricia said. “So where were you, when it happened?”

  “Summer camp, outside of L.A.,” Jake said.

  “So, Patricia and I were right here,” Dylan said.

  “I think they probably know that story,”
Patricia said. “I’d like to hear more about Jake and Charlie. Did you guys know each other before?”

  “It’s really not all that interesting,” Jake said, but then Charlie started in on how he met Jake, and although he had the urge to try and shut him up, he realized that Charlie was making him sound pretty good. Dylan, on the other hand, looked a little like he had eaten something sour. Maybe he had other places he wanted the conversation to go.

  “So what now?” Patricia asked Charlie. “What are you going to do when Jake goes to the Academy?”

  “I’m in a good group home,” Charlie said. “I’ll go to school here and get in the Academy as fast as I can. I’ve already picked a major—astronautical engineering.”

  “That’s pretty cool,” Patricia said. “So you want to build spaceships?”

  “Maybe,” Charlie said. “Or repair them.”

  The bell rang on the door, and Emily came in. She was wearing her yellow sundress and black boots, one of his favorite outfits. She swept her gaze across the little group, and Jake found himself pushing his chair back a little without knowing why.

  “Jake?” she said. “What’s going on?”

  He remembered then that he was supposed to meet her at the coffee shop after his shift.

  “Oh, man,” he said. “I’m sorry. I got distracted. You’ll never guess who Dylan brought to see us.”

  “Patricia Whitmore,” Emily said. “I can see her. She’s sitting right there.”

  “Ah, yeah,” he said, standing. “Patricia, this is Emily.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Patricia said. “Would you like to join us?”

  “Would I, Jake?” Emily asked.

  “Absolutely,” Jake said.

  * * *

  Later, when Patricia and Dylan left, Jake and Emily walked Charlie home, and then they turned toward her house.

  “So,” she said. “Patricia Whitmore.”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “Royalty, like Dylan.”

  “She seemed okay,” he replied.

  “Uh-huh. Why didn’t you introduce me as your girlfriend?” she asked.

  “I—well, I guess I thought it was kind of obvious.”

  “No,” she said. “It wasn’t. It wasn’t obvious at all. You didn’t kiss me, or hold my hand, or call me honey, or anything like that.”

  “Huh,” he said.

  “I am your girlfriend, aren’t I, Jake? Has something changed since the last time you told me you loved me?”

  He stopped walking and turned to face her.

  “What kind of question is that?” he asked. “Of course you’re my girlfriend. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Is she going to be at the Academy, too?” she said.

  He paused, wondering if he could tell her no and get away with it.

  “Yes,” he said. “Look, I don’t have the hots for Patricia Whitmore. She’s Dylan’s friend—I was just trying to be nice.”

  “You forgot me, Jake,” Emily said. “We’re still within walking distance of each other, and you forgot me. What’s it going to be like when you’re off at the Academy?”

  “Emily,” he said, “I love you. You know that.”

  Her eyes were wet, but she wasn’t actually crying. “How’s this going to work?” she asked. “I’ve got another year of school left, and I won’t be going to Colorado, we both know that.”

  “Why not?” he said. “You could get a job there, or go to another school.”

  “You’re asking me to follow you to Colorado?” she said.

  Jake realized that was exactly what he’d just done.

  “I’m just saying if we love each other, we can work something out,” he said.

  She was quiet for a moment. “I really do love you, Jake,” she said. “I don’t think you know how much.”

  He kissed her then, and they were still kissing when they got to her house.

  “You can come in,” she said. “Mom’s on the night shift all this week.”

  “Okay,” he said, feeling a little weak in the knees. Emily’s father had left when she was twelve, so they were alone in the house. Not for the first time, but…

  They landed on the couch, and things moved forward. Way forward. More forward than they ever had before.

  “What are we doing?” Emily whispered.

  “I… I don’t know,” he said.

  “I want to, Jake,” she said. “I want to make love with you.”

  Jake found it a little hard to breathe, much less talk.

  “But you said—you’ve always said…”

  “Forget what I said,” she said, and then kissed him again.

  * * *

  Later, they lay together, and he felt her heartbeat against his chest and stroked her long brown hair.

  “I’m glad,” she said. “I wanted it to be you. I want it always to be you.”

  “You’re not sorry we didn’t wait?”

  She sighed. “Wait for what, Jake?”

  22

  “Well, what’s the verdict?” Hiller asked.

  David looked up from his laptop, where he was desperately scrolling through the data from systems testing.

  “There’s no verdict,” he said. “It’s a hung jury.”

  “Will this or will not this thing fly?” he asked.

  David raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “It’s not enough time,” he said, “and some of these test results are missing data. It’s sloppy, Steve.”

  “But have you actually found anything wrong?”

  David studied his friend’s expression for a moment.

  “No,” he finally said. “I haven’t found anything wrong—but that doesn’t mean there isn’t.”

  “You can be damn frustrating when you want to be, you know that?” Hiller said.

  “That’s the point,” David objected. “I don’t want to be frustrating. I would love to give you a straight answer.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “According to what I see here—it should be a go.”

  “Great,” Hiller said. “Perfect.”

  “Only—why don’t you tell your pilot to just use basic anti-gravity. Don’t kick it into high gear.”

  “Okay, see, you’re doing it to me again,” Hiller said. “How’s it gonna look if in front of twenty thousand people the ship just sort of eases up into the sky?”

  “Ah, not you too,” David said.

  “David,” he said. “Tanner and the president say this thing is going to fly in the morning. I can tell them no, but it’s probably going to cost me my job, and I like my job. So do I tell them no?”

  “Tell them whatever you want,” David said. “I just hope your pilot knows what he’s doing.”

  “He does,” Hiller said. “Because he’s me.”

  “What? Wait, Steve, no!”

  “After all this, you think I’d put anyone else in that seat? No way in hell.”

  David wanted to object further, but he knew Steve well enough to know when his mind was made up. He just hoped that this time the feeling in his gut was indigestion.

  He watched Hiller leave, then continued going through the data.

  * * *

  Charlie found Jake sitting on the stoop of his group home with what might have been the most hangdog expression he had ever seen.

  “Wow,” he said. “What the heck? Something go down between you and Emily last night? She seemed kind of pissed that you forgot her.”

  Jake shrugged. “I guess she was,” he said.

  “Did you two break up?”

  “What? No. Why would you think that?”

  “You look like a kid who just had his lollipop taken away,” Charlie said. “That’s why.”

  “Yeah,” Jake said. “I guess I’m just rethinking the Academy.”

  At first Charlie just thought he’d heard him wrong.

  “Rethinking?” Charlie said. “What does that mean? You’re gonna change your major?”

  “No,” he said. “I’m thinking about not going
at all.”

  Now Charlie was sure Jake was joking—but the punch line never came. What had happened overnight? At the restaurant, he’d seemed so enthusiastic, joking with Dylan and Patricia about who would be the “top gun.”

  “That’s crazy, Jake,” he finally said. “It’s all you’ve talked about since I met you.”

  “Right,” Jake said. “Because I was a kid when we met. Kids aren’t realistic. They all think they’re going to grow up to be superheroes or trillionaires or whatever. Do you know how long it took me to admit to myself that my parents were dead?”

  “I’ve still never heard you say it outright,” Charlie said.

  “Well, they are,” he said. “They’re dead. Deceased. Gone.”

  It took him aback a little. Jake was always the guy that held out for hope. He was never quite going to believe his parents were dead until he saw the bodies. But now he sounded… resigned.

  “Okay,” Charlie said, “but what does that have to do with the Academy?”

  “I barely made it in,” Jake said. “Odds are I won’t make it all the way through, anyway, and if I do I probably won’t make it into flight school. Dylan and Patricia—they’ve got families cheering them on. The whole damned country is cheering them on.”

  “You’ve got me,” Charlie said.

  “Exactly,” Jake said. “I’ve got you, and I’ve got Emily, and that’s it. If I leave here—”

  Then Charlie suddenly got it.

  “Wait,” Charlie said. “Emily? Did you guys…?”

  Jake got a funny expression on his face.

  “You did,” he said. “You did the deal. Knocked boots. Which—Emily was actually wearing boots.”

  “Keep your voice down,” Jake said.

  “Wow,” Charlie said. “What was it like?”

  “It was—mind your own business!”

  “Okay,” Charlie said, trying to frame the situation. “So if you’re using me as an excuse to stay here, it is my business. It’s this thing you’ve got with wounded birds, Jake.”

  “Wounded birds?” Jake said. “What are you talking about, Charlie?”

  “You want to be the hero,” he said. “Like when we first met. You saw me as a wounded bird who needed nursing back to health. Emily—look, I like Emily. She smart, and she’s pretty, she’s got stuff in all the right places, but she’s a wounded bird. Her father didn’t die, he left. And her mother is a little on the crazy side. And everybody but you thinks she’s a little weird. So you want to give her what she needs, which is love, I guess. If you go away, you won’t be the hero, you’ll be the bad guy. The guy that abandoned the little kid who needed him. The guy who abandoned the girl, just like her father did—and you can’t stand the idea of being that guy.”