Captain Jack, one of the few people on planet Earth who still smoked a pipe, pulled it out from between his full lips. With dramatic emphasis, he stared up toward the ceiling, and said, “That’s what I’m talking about. You know, I’ve had multiple complaints from our patrons, Brianna. This has got to stop.”
“I know … and I appreciate you being so patient with me. I’m trying to work things out with the dog. Maybe hire someone, like a dog-sitter, during the day.”
“I don’t understand. Why do you need a dog here? With your life, being as it is, I just don’t see it. It complicates everything for you. I would hate to see you lose your lease—even your job.”
“Now, don’t say that, Jack. Come on! I’ve been here for—well, like forever. I’m loyal. A good portion of these patrons only come here thanks to me. Just give me some time, a day or two.” She watched as Captain Jack looked about his cluttered desk for his lighter. His pipe had fizzled out. She glanced around the dreary, wood-paneled office and wondered how he could spend so many hours cloistered in here. Then she thought of something else. “Don’t you get lonely, being stuck in here all day?”
The older man looked about his space and shrugged. “No, I like my solitude. People make me crazy.”
“Strange attitude for a restaurant owner,” Brianna retorted with a crooked smile, watching his thick silver brows knit together. “I have an idea, just for a couple of days.” She looked over to the only empty space in the office. “There’s room for a small dog bed, right over there. Larry won’t bother anyone if he has company. He’ll just curl up in the corner and I’ll walk him on my breaks. Just for a few days … ”
Captain Jack continued to stare hard at the empty corner, as if trying to picture it. “I’m not supposed to have a dog within these lower premises. Health code stipulations and all.”
She wanted to tell him he should be far more concerned with the army of cockroaches, which had taken up long-term residence behind the dry-goods pantry and beneath the fry cooker. “Fine, health department shows up tell them he’s not your dog. You have no idea how he got in here. But honestly, when was the last time they just showed up unannounced?” Brianna didn’t actually know the answer to that, but thought she should throw it out there just the same.
Teeter-tottering his large head back and forth a few times, Jack said, “Fine, we’ll try it tomorrow. But no promises. If he annoys me, even a little, you’ll have to make other arrangements.”
Brianna couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She’d made the suggestion out of pure desperation. “You’re a peach, Jack. Thank you so much.”
“Get out of here before I change my mind. And get that dog to shut the hell up.”
She left through Stillworth’s Skiff’s rear door, crossing over to the steep set of angled stairs. Two people, a young man and a woman, were standing at the top of the stairs, right outside the door to her flat.
* * *
Standing on the narrow outer landing, Scotty Sullivan was able to lean over the iron railing just enough to peer into the apartment’s back window. The barking had been going on pretty much non-stop, ever since they’d arrived several moments before. Scotty knew that bark—Larry’s bark. He laughed out loud, seeing those familiar brown eyes staring back at him now from inside.
Scotty said, “It’s him … that’s my dog!”
Alison, moving onto the top step of the stairway, nodded unenthusiastically. Scotty ignored her lack of enthusiasm. She’d been miffed, ever since they’d climbed into the car. She wanted answers. Where exactly had he been for the last sixteen years? What was he doing now in Nantucket? What was his explanation for the bizarre DNA results? But mostly, how the hell did he escape from those handcuffs? But the timing wasn’t quite right to get into all that with her. But soon—maybe it would be.
Alison said, “Enough with the damn dog, Scotty! Try knocking again. Maybe she didn’t hear you the first time. She could have been in the bathroom, or something.”
“Can I help you people?” came a woman’s voice from below.
Both Scotty and Alison glanced down to the bottom of the stairs. He saw an attractive middle–aged woman, wearing a Black Sabbath concert tank top, along with faded blue jeans. Her brown hair, cut short, was streaked with strands of gray. Scotty’s emotional reaction came on both suddenly and unexpectedly. His throat instantly constricted and he couldn’t speak, his eyes welling with tears to the point his mother’s image became a mere blur some sixteen steps below him. He heard Alison answer something back. Talking over the dog’s barking, she introduced herself.
“Yes, I’m FBI Special Agent Alison McGuire, from the Chelsea, Massachusetts office.”
Scotty noticed Alison was holding up her ID. Hesitating, she glanced over at him, not quite sure how to proceed further.
Scotty, blinking away tears, could see that the woman standing at the bottom of the stairs was not listening to Alison; her eyes were locked onto him. Her expression a mix of confusion, hopefulness—and also fear.
“It’s me, Mom. It’s Scotty.”
His mother’s legs began to wobble beneath her. Barely clinging to the railing—trying to breathe—she was fighting not to completely fold into herself.
Scotty brushed past Alison, quickly descending the steps two and three at a time. Seeing his rapid approach, Brianna’s hands rose up to hold him at bay—her face now angry, full of rage. “You get the fuck away from me!” She took several steps backwards. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”
Scotty stopped on the third step from the ground. “It’s really me, honest, Mom. Please don’t be scared.”
“Oh really! So … like after sixteen years, my son casually decides to come knocking on my front door? Bullshit. I don’t believe you. Whoever you are? I want you to leave. Now!”
“What if I could prove it … that I am your son?”
“I said leave. I’ll call the police if you don’t … ”
“Ma’am, I am the FBI.” Alison said, from top of the stairs. “He is Scotty Sullivan. Genetic tests, DNA, confirm he is who he says he is.”
His mother’s lips became a thin red line. Vehemently shaking her head, she shouted, “No. This is a cruel joke. My son is dead. Washed out to sea sixteen years ago.”
“Just like your dog up there? Come on, you never believed Scotty was dead. That’s why you hired a PI to keep searching for him all these years,” Alison said, slowly descending the stairs. “I assure you, Mrs. Sullivan, he is, in fact, your son, Scotty. Now, where exactly he’s been living all these years, is something we still need to discuss.”
“Show me your feet.”
Scotty looked at his mother. “My feet?” She nodded back.
He kicked off one shoe then the other, then peeled off his socks. Standing barefoot, he waited. Brianna took several tentative steps forward, her attention focused solely on his feet.
Scotty peered down at them too, suddenly remembering he had a small birthmark, roughly the shape of a crescent moon, on his left big toe.
A hand came up, covering Brianna’s mouth as she drew in a startled breath. She looked up at him—sudden hopefulness shining in her eyes. “Oh God … Scotty?”
Chapter 20
The three-man ISS crew, unceremoniously escorted out through the opening made in the Zarya module’s bulkhead, had Halm leading the way, with two Vallic crewmembers following close behind.
The ghostly blue form of Halm, at least to this point, seemed completely non-threatening, even polite, Landon thought. Or were they lambs slowly being led to the slaughter? No. He didn’t actually believe that. Why would they bother? These highly advanced beings could pretty much do with them as they wished at any time—they’d been at their complete mercy. Halm had told them they were here to help the Human race, but Landon was skeptical. Perhaps, though, that was a Human trait, doubting the true intentions of strangers. An instinctual self-protection mechanism with roots dating back to Neanderthal days, when competing tribes were running around naked
and throwing spears. And these Vallic aliens were the ultimate strangers. Again—what was in it for them? Why assist Humanity?
The hold area was dimly lit, to the point that outlines of what appeared to be towering bulkheads were shrouded in a veil of shadows, cast in near-complete darkness. One benefit now was how much more visible the glowing aliens were to the naked eye.
Landon felt Fischer’s presence close to his side. “Have you noticed they don’t carry any weapons?”
Landon, keeping his voice low, said, “Well, neither are we … so I think they feel fairly secure.” He heard Peter Mirkin; several paces behind them, questioning a Vallic being. “Where are you taking us?” Mirkin asked.
“Into the ship proper.”
That’s a short and sweet answer, Landon thought. Walking for at least a few minutes, he figured it must be some kind of gargantuan hold. “Excuse me, um … Halm?”
“Yes, Commander Landon?” Halm replied, slowing his stride.
“Look, it’s imperative I make contact with our MCC.”
“And that is our intent, as well. But first, it is important that you fully understand the situation. The implications of what is approaching.”
“You pretty much told us that. Total annihilation.” Just speaking those words made him think about Jan and the kids.
They were approaching some kind of transition point now—not so much a compartment hatchway, more like a circular energy membrane—one that spanned about ten feet in diameter.
“Please wait here a moment while I alter the airlock configuration for your Human physiology,” Halm said, as he approached the membrane. An almost imperceptible crackling sound, like static electricity, could be sensed as he passed through it. Landon paused, taking a closer look at the nearby bulkhead. Not what he expected—like riveted metal sheeting or plating—the bulkhead appeared to be molded, an uneven texture to its surface. The coloring, variations of tans and browns, had a natural, organic composition to it. He ran his toes back and forth along the decking beneath his feet, then pushed his heels firmly down into it. Slightly spongy—organic?
Startled, Landon felt a hand on his shoulder. Halm stood in front of him. Behind him, the energy membrane had disappeared and he could see further into the ship.
“You’re wondering about the composition of this vessel. It is completely organic; necessary for intergalactic space travel. In fact, other than the ISS, and the equipment accompanying it, which are now in this hold, there is nothing else onboard this craft that is not organic. Come, you can pass through now.” Halm led the way out of the hold into another part of the alien ship—one with more defined and separate spaces. Here, numerous Vallic crewmembers were moving about, as one would expect on a large ship. But the effect here was magical—sweeps of blue energy visible against a muted dark backdrop of the ship’s interior. Landon suddenly became aware of his physicality, his presence among energetics, as Halm had described them. He felt obtuse and lumbering; both out of place and somewhat ridiculous.
Two blue-glowing Vallics, speaking in low tones to each other, were approaching. Only then did Landon notice the Vallic on the left was clearly a female. Her form was slighter—variations, impressions, of having breasts and more rounded hips.
“This is Calma and Bame. They will be assisting you with your education. I must attend to my duties on the ship’s bridge.” With that Halm strode away.
The female Vallic took a step forward. “I am aware of your greeting customs to shake each other’s limbs. She held out her hand and Landon, reciprocating the gesture, took her hand in his. It was small and soft within his grasp. She then proceeded to shake Fischer and Mirkin’s hands as well. Bame stayed back, not speaking.
“What’s with him? A little shy?” Fischer asked.
Calma gave a quick glance toward her crewmate. “He does not like Humans, or most other alien life forms. Ignore him. He is relatively harmless.”
“That’s reassuring,” Fischer said, making no effort to hide his sarcasm. Landon sent Fischer a quick censoring glare, one that said try to behave.
“Please follow us to the Conception Dome.”
Doing as told, they fell in behind Calma and Bame and left the area, merging into a wide corridor of sorts. Landon had assumed the Vallics—these energetic beings—would move about by walking, maybe even running, much the same as Humans do. But he was wrong about that. Catching but a mere glimpse of their shimmering blue energy wakes—one after another Vallic crewmembers whizzed around at incredible speeds on either side. Landon felt something he hadn’t experienced in a long time, not since training to become a navy pilot: Envy. God, to be able to move about like that; to be so unhindered—so free!
The Conception Dome was indeed a large, enclosed, domed area. Its size seemed boundless, although Landon was certain that aspect was an illusion. They had entered into a breathtakingly beautiful virtual model. Ultra-realistic, it possessed three-dimensional depth; no floors, ceilings, or walls, they appeared to be standing within the Solar System—almost Godlike. The Sun, orbiting bright-colored planets, viewed from a space perspective.
Mirkin, his Russian accent thicker than usual, held his arms out. Spinning around, he said, “This is truly amazing. Visually stunning!” He walked toward the virtual planets, those positioned farthest from the Sun. “Tell me, what are those other spherical bodies beyond Pluto?”
Bame answered him with measured annoyance, “Six more worlds, ones bordering just outside the Kuiper Belt. Your scientists will not discover any of these worlds until there are further advances with your interplanetary space travel.”
Calma said, “You can spend more time in here, within the Conception Dome, later on. But for now, there is a reason we brought you here: For your education. So you can better communicate to your people what is transpiring … that of a cataclysmic course of spatial events.” The virtual perspective then changed; as the Solar System suddenly shrank in size, a more distant quadrant of space quickly magnified. “This part of space, you refer to it as … ”
Landon cut in, “Constellation Ophiuchus,”
“That is correct,” she said. The star now coming into view was as large as the Sun had been only moments before. She continued, “Bernard’s Star was the third closest star to Earth after your own Sun and Alpha Centauri 3. At six light years distance, this red dwarf was rapidly moving through interstellar space. Eventually, billions of years from now, it would have been as close as 3.8 light years from Earth.”
“So this star causes the cataclysmic event you referred to earlier?” Fischer asked.
“No. It is what was behind Bernard’s Star. Actually, matching an almost identical, but totally blocked, trajectory. And that was the problem.”
In that moment Bernard’s Star, with its lone orbiting planet, dramatically exploded.
Landon caught it. Something had pierced through the small star system then proceeded on as if nothing had been in its way.
Calma said, “Keep in mind, what you just witnessed has already occurred. Of course, with the speed of light being what it is, it will take six years for a visual confirmation of this event to reach even your most powerful telescopes.”
“When did this happen?” Landon asked, his voice barely audible. He was pretty certain he already knew the answer.
“Well over four years ago, at our current frame of reference,” she said. “Now, please pay attention. This is what you can expect to occur within sixteen months’ time.”
Again, the present view of relatively local space shifted. The virtual perspective now showed Sol and the Solar System in the not so far distance. A golden fiery streak, growing larger by the second, could now be seen. Approaching fast, it was headed for the Solar System’s encircling Kuiper Belt, consisting of leftover spacial debris—repercussions of the Big Bang—countless rocks and meteors and fragments of ancient, torn-apart worlds. And then it happened; the fiery streak dramatically penetrated one section of the belt. Intense heat radiated outward, until the entire en
circling belt began to grow red, then amber, then white. And then, in a singular bright flash, everything within the Kuiper Belt was gone—radiated.
Transfixed, Landon watched the continuing spectacle—the grandeur of the spacial event. But what he saw next made him gasp. He watched in horror as the fiery streak entered the Solar System—and, like what had happened with the Kuiper Belt, radiant heat quickly consumed all matter in its wake. He watched known worlds fragment into glistening particles—Neptune—Uranus—Saturn—Jupiter—Mars—Earth. He closed his eyes then forced them open. The destruction took mere moments. In the end, it seemed that only the Sun would endure. But no, sadly he watched as it too began to fragment apart. Glowing solitary embers flittered atop a backdrop of a now dark, lonely-looking section of space.
And as quickly as the fiery streak entered the Solar System, it left—continuing, undoubtedly, onward with unrelenting destructiveness throughout the cosmos. The Kuiper Belt was gone; the Solar System gone. Landon shook his head in disbelief—inevitable doomsday had unfolded right before his eyes.
Experiencing such a deep feeling of loss, Landon’s heart physically hurt within his chest. He found it hard to breathe. He couldn’t speak—and even if he could, there was absolutely nothing he could say.
Chapter 21
Alison watched Scotty and the dog, Larry, roughhousing on Brianna’s worn, threadbare carpet. It was a close match—which one had the most energy. It had occurred to Alison earlier that Scotty had a child-like quality about him, and their playing around now only affirmed that assessment.
An hour there already, Brianna’s growing frustration was clearly evident in her expression; her numerous questions answered with minimum responses. That was how it all went down in the hospital too. Scotty’s evasiveness about where he’d been all these past years had raised more questions than answers.
Boy Gone Page 8
