Sleeper Seven

by Mark Howard

  Her chest tightened with fear, which almost as quickly melted away.

  "It's okay, G, I'm almost home, see you soon."

  "Jess! Did you hear me? Don't come..."

  "Yeah, see you soon," she interrupted, hanging up on him.

  Rounding the corner to her street, she spotted the white van idling at the end of the block. Headlights blazing, it peeled out towards her. She began to run, but towards the van, like a crazed bullfighter forgetting which side of the cape he was on. As it closed to within a hundred feet, she stopped in the middle of the road, holding her ground. Swerving at the last minute, the van screeched to a halt beside her as the white smoke from its exhaust caught up, engulfing them.

  The heavy side door slid open with a loud thunk as the smoke cleared, revealing an older man with long, scraggly hair crouched in the opening. He wore a pair of wayfarers, board shorts, and an unbuttoned Hawaiian print shirt, which did nothing to hide his bramble patch of graying chest hair. With a wide smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes, he tossed a small object to her.

  "Welcome to the club!" he shouted, as she instinctively reached out to catch the object. The van door slid shut with another loud thunk as they roared off, rounding the corner with tires squealing.

  Heart pounding, she breathed a sigh of relief as she looked down at the small gray plastic box in her hand. It looked like an old flip phone, and a bulky one at that. A plastic antenna extended from the top corner, and turning it over she noticed a large worn out 'M' on the back, which she recognized as the old Motorola symbol. She opened it and tentatively held it to her ear.

  "Hello?" she asked, but heard nothing. A loud warbling suddenly screeched in her ear.

  "Shit!" she swore, dropping the phone to the pavement. No wonder it's all scratched up, she thought to herself as she picked it up and pressed the green button.

  "Jessica, will you meet with us?"

  It was a woman's voice, but the line was staticky, and between that and a pronounced echo, Jess could barely hear her. It reminded her of how her father described long distance phone calls in the olden days.

  "Is this you, Kal?"

  "No. My name is Star. You won't be hearing from them anymore. The van is behind the Starbucks, they're waiting for you."

  The static abruptly ended, signalling the call was over. She stood for a moment, staring down at the phone, then turned around to look at their house. Gavin was staring out the window at her, mouth agape. He looked so comical, and coming down off her adrenaline high, she couldn't help but break out into uncontrollable giggles.

  Raising his hands up he mouthed "What the hell?" Regaining her composure, she held her hand to her ear and mimed "Call you later" as she took off running down the street.

  ~ 52 ~

  Turning into the alley behind the Starbucks, she found the van idling just as Star had promised. Walking up to it, she peeked through the tinting to find the front seats empty, so she tentatively rapped on the sliding door. A terrific clattering ensued before the door finally slid open, revealing the man who handed her the phone, along with the driver, sitting crosswise on the carpeted floor. Smoke billowed out of the door opening as she spied a tall purple bong between them.

  "Hey! It's Wonder Woman! Get in here, gal!" exclaimed the driver, a younger fellow with dirty blond dreadlocks spilling out from underneath his rainbow knit cap. The older man, who had been taking a hit, snorted at the remark, spilling bong water all over his Hawaiian shirt in the process.

  "Shit," he exclaimed, laughing. "Well I guess I'm done, you want?" he said, offering it to her.

  "Ah, no, and what the fuck? Who are you guys and what is the deal here?"

  "Hey man, chill. Don't harsh the mellow. Terry told us about you. Honestly we kind of blew him off at first, but then, well, this! Come on aboard, we'll fill you in."

  Jess waved her hands, clearing away the smoke, before hoisting herself into the van. It had been reconfigured with bench seats along the sides, and the floor — and walls and ceiling — were covered in a plush deep-pile purple carpet. A few posters hung on the walls, one showing a Peace sign and the other a butterfly; both worn and fraying. At the very back stood a makeshift table of milk crates supporting an old laptop and various phone gear. The whole van reeked of B.O. and weed as though they lived in it.

  "Hey, I'm Sag. From my sign," offered the younger one. In addition to his knit cap, he wore an old Replacements t-shirt, cutoff jean shorts, and wooden sandals. "And you're Jessica?"

  "Yeah, uh, nice to meet you," she said, handing back the phone.

  Taking it from her, he tossed it deftly into one of the milk crates before maneuvering back into the driver's seat. "We're totally psyched you came, you got quite a party waiting for you."

  "Yeah," continued the older fellow, "You're the hero of the hour! I'm Roper, by the way." He removed his sunglasses, exposing bloodshot eyes, and taking her hand, guided her to a bench seat. After reaching over to close the sliding door, he sat down opposite her and smiled expectantly.

  "So...you've sorta got a whole 'New Age Cheech and Chong' thing going here, huh?"

  They both broke out into entirely too much laughter. Sag started the van, and as they drove off the laughter diminished, leaving an awkward silence in its wake.

  "And so, uh, where are we going today, fellas?" she probed.

  "Oh...yeah, you don't know what's going on here, huh?" Roper remarked, as if the thought had just occurred to him. "Heading to the homestead out west. Outside Galena. Should be there before dinner. You'll get fed, don't worry! Star's a great cook. Great pilot too. You do know all this stuff is cause of you, right?"

  "What stuff, the van?"

  This remark was apparently hilarious as well. Jess was beginning to think it might just be the ganja, and not her natural comedic talents at work here.

  "No, man, most of the Net's down! Don't you know? Like, I would think you kids would be all plugged in and shit. Yeah. Since this morning. It's a distraction, don't let anyone tell you different."

  He leaned in and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Used to be they would take down the power grid for a good part of the country when things didn't go their way, that we know for sure, right Sag?"

  At this, Sag laughed a long, loud, hyena-like laugh, while Roper continued.

  "But they got a lot of heat for that, so they finally cut that shit out. Internet's better — some people need electrons to live, but nobody needs bits, at least not yet, right? And as long as it takes up the column inches they don't care. Internet blackout to the rescue!" he shouted, and they both laughed hysterically once again.

  Jess did not join in, and Roper, eventually sensing her discomfort, dropped his wild grin. "Hey now, we're just having a little fun here, been up all night driving to come get you since we got the call; a little loopy. You know how it is..."

  Jess leaned closer, and speaking in a whisper, pointed to Sag in the driver's seat. "Whatever...but should he really be driving?"

  Roper laughed again. "No problemo, man," he loudly exclaimed, "that's just the way he is! He only had one hit before you joined the party, so it's all good."

  Sag, issuing another barking laugh, thought the insult particularly hilarious.

  "So, what's in Galena, besides, like, bed and breakfasts and antiquing?"

  "Oh yeah, yeah," Roper replied, forgetting again that she had no clue what was happening. "Well that's where we keep our ships."

  "Ships? What, like steamships? On the Mississippi?"

  This brought more laughter, which was becoming less amusing to Jess by the minute.

  "No, man! Starships."

  "The hell you mean, starships?" she demanded.

  Roper leaned over towards the driver's seat. "Hey, man, I think we got the wrong chick." Then, leaning back, he took another bong hit, and after slowly exhaling the smoke, regarded her accusatorially.

  "Did you or did you not, Miss Jessica Delaney Armitage, without authority — or much ability, I might add — pilo
t a heretofore unknown U.S. government starship to an unauthorized geographical location, and exhibit a completely unprecedented (y mucho verboten) display of technological grandeur, never before seen by the American public, much less the publics of any of the other great nations of our times, but eighteen short hours ago, at approximately 20:30 hours, on the Day of Fri, the month of Junius, the Year of our Lord Twenty-Fifteen?"

  Jess was momentarily speechless — she had never thought of the ship as a starship before. Regaining herself, she accepted the charge proudly.

  "Guilty."

  They both exploded into peals of laughter from their seemingly bottomless well of mirth, Roper leaning back so far the bong in his lap tipped backward, spilling more water onto him — which just tickled Sag's funny bone even more.

  "But how do you know all this?" Jess asked, after they had calmed down somewhat. "And what's the backstory on you guys?"

  "Ha. Well," Roper replied, setting aside the bong and wringing his shirt out onto his shorts. "Refugees, man. Or escapees, maybe. We're Sleepers, mostly, like you. Couple of us came from Gateway, few younger ones like Sag here, Terry sent our way. We just want to raise the vibrational level of this planet, man, strap a booster rocket onto human consciousness, man, straight up! Sixties never died, man; they live on, just below the surface."

  He took another long gurgling hit while Sag drove on, paying more attention to Roper's speechmaking than the road.

  "But we had to change our tactics, man. Government-endorsed, tax-deductible, neo-Randian, Calvinist-capitalized fuck-your-neighbor, advertising-sponsored, high-fructose injected, parent-approved, patriarchal, protectionist, NSA monitored, and hand-sanitized for your protection bullshit culture co-opted them," he railed, motioning towards Sag, "and made us out to be the freaks."

  "They're not freaks," Sag called out in solidarity, "they're Trust to Power!"

  "Truth to Power, man. Truth to Power," Roper whispered to Sag, before turning his attention back to Jess. "But we're not freaks, man, we're them — unshackled. That's what they've always been afraid of." Roper said all this with a painful seriousness that was almost touching.

  "They put lead in the gasoline to stop the magic from happening, man, poisoned the atmosphere and made a whole generation of dulled, angry, competitive people that were easier to contain and control. We finally got the lead out back in '84, man — like, literally — and you're seeing the fruits of that in the young people now." Again he waved his hand towards Sag, which to Jess was not exactly a ringing endorsement of his theory.

  Sag looked confused. "You really think they did that on purpose? With the leaded gas?"

  "Yeah, man!" Roper responded angrily. "Well, who knows? I don't know. Do you know? Someone knows!"

  "I dunno man...that's pretty out there," Sag countered timidly.

  "Fact is, lead's a known developmental neurotoxin. Fact is, atmospheric lead emissions reached their peak in 1979. Fact is, our movement was a joke by the 80's. We went from 'Peace, Love, and Harmony' to 'Greed is Good'. Woodstock to Wall Street. Put it all together, man, it's causality in action, tic-tac-toe. A little too convenient, wouldn't ya say?" Roper shot back.

  Jess jumped in, short-circuiting this convo that had veered way off course already. "That's Cool and the Gang, but how does a group like you, ah, get into this business, and, like, why?"

  Roper closed his eyes, allowing his anger to dissipate before responding. "Global transformation is only possible at the level of the individual," he replied softly, eyes shut. "We learned that decades ago. We're out doing the same thing they're doing, but our intentions are different, and that matters, man. We enlighten, and yeah, sometimes we 'scare', but we don't intimidate like they do. That's not our bag. If we scare someone, that's just the Ego getting a jolt, the Ego that thinks society's got it all figured out; we're not concerned with that vestigial organ. In the long run, the experience gets integrated. It opens them up. It expands 'em. Brings 'em to a higher place," he explained, spinning his fingers upwards in a spiral.

  "Just so we're clear on this, you guys have ships, that you take out and terrify people with, just like the government does?" Jess asked incredulously.

  "C'mon man. Now that's just unfair. There's a difference. What we do changes people. What they do conditions people. Totally different. Skinner is alive and well mi amigo, don't let anyone tell you different."

  "I still don't get why the government would do this to their own people, there's gotta be billions of our dollars in these things, we've got a right to know about these things we bought and paid for!"

  "Well, they got a lotta dough in makin 'em, yeah, but they sure didn't invent 'em," he replied. Then, rubbing his stomach, he reached over and began searching the back of the van for something. "Hey Sag, let's get off at that Shoney's outside Rockford. I'm gettin' the munchies real bad back here."

  Twenty minutes later, they were off the highway and seated in the restaurant. While Roper and Sag argued over which menu item could best be passed off as vegan, Jess continued to question them.

  "So how many ships do you have, and how did you get them?"

  "We got three," Sag answered, as Roper pondered the menu intensely, "two smaller ones, Libra and Scout, and Big Mama. Libra's a Gen-one and is out of commission, she ran outta juice back in '02, so she's just a museum piece now. Scout's a newer model, mid-nineties, and at nineteen percent, so she's good for another decade or so, we think. Big Mama's almost brand new, though, provisioned in '08, and we picked her up in '12. We have a lot of fun with her."

  "And how did you get all these ships? Government surplus auctions?"

  "Ha, naw. We stole 'em, just like you."

  "We'll...I didn't really steal it," Jess rationalized, taken aback by his bluntness, "more like borrowed it, for a time, ahhh, yeah." She looked up to find the server waiting on them with an upraised eyebrow.

  "Borrowing ain't stealing, in my book," she confirmed, "now what can I get you all?"

  After a quick and greasy meal, they were soon back on the road. Jess had joined Sag up front in the passenger side captain's chair, which was springy and comfortable despite the various ancient stains and burn holes. Roper, sporadically nodding off in back on the shag carpet, lazily munched from the decidedly un-vegan bag of Doritos he insisted on getting.

  Awakening from his stupor several minutes later, Roper broke the food coma silence that pervaded the van.

  "Sag," he scolded accusingly.

  "What, man?" Sag replied, a bit defensively.

  "Dude, there's a lady with us. Manage yourself, bud."

  "Sorry," he confessed sheepishly, "I couldn't hold it anymore. It hurt dude."

  "Saaaag," Roper sang out, angrily now.

  "What!"

  "Please tell me you didn't fish those Spawn-of-Satan fiber bars out of the trash did you?"

  "But they were sooooo goooood..."

  "C'mon man!" Roper shouted, severely harshing the mellow. "Now we gotta live through this, like, literal shit, for the next two hours? Dude, how can you let this happen again? I told you never to eat anything with that nasty chicory..."

  "...root extract," Sag added. "I know, I know. Yeah, I'm payin' for it now. I won't do it..."

  "We're all payin' for it now, friend," Roper interrupted angrily. "Oh, we are all payin' for it. No more! Where are they. I should'a chucked 'em at the gas station. Where are they!"

  "Ummm..."

  "Where. Are. They."

  "...I ate 'em all."

  Roper sat with his back against the wall, defeated.

  "Damn you, Sag," he grumbled with disgust, "Damn you and those fiber bars straight to Hell." Ducking into the back of the van, he opened the vents on the rear windows.

  "Huh, Huh, Huh," Sag muttered, cracking his own window open.

  "NOT funny. NOT funny, man," Roper scolded from the back. "Jess honey, I'm gonna set up camp back here for awhile, feel free to join me. Or stay up there with the Sag-stench, if you dare. Dude's fermenting up there."
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  "I'm...fine," Jess replied, half-laughing and half-gagging, as she pulled her shirt up to her face and stared out the window.

  A few minutes later, she rose and quietly joined Roper at the back of the van.

  ~ 53 ~

  The rolling countryside gave way to picturesque turn-of-the-century hotels, curio shops, and restaurants as they rolled down Galena's South Main Street a few hours later. Instead of stopping to join the other antique hunters and bed-and-breakfasters, however, they continued heading north, out of town. Ten minutes on, they turned into the circular drive of an old whitewashed farmhouse, set on a large expanse of gently rolling green fields.

  "Star must be out back," Roper surmised, "no lights on."

  Sag continued driving past the house, turning onto a dirt two-track that trailed off behind it. As they crested a rise, a collection of far-flung outbuildings came into view, all dwarfed by a very low and wide structure set back into the tree line at the far edge of the property.

  As they approached this long building, Jess noticed a set of twenty-foot wide doors hinged together to open like an accordion. Built with wood timbers, the building resembled a cross between log cabin and gigantic garage, reminding her of an uncle who lived in a runway community where the preposterously large garages held planes instead of cars. A diffuse bluish-white light, emanating from the door panel seams, suddenly blinked out as they parked the van in front.

  Roper led them around the side, revealing a nicely landscaped garden accented with a flagstone patio, cedar chairs, and a fire pit. Jess imagined them eating brats and sipping lemonade after taking their starships out for a Sunday drive.

  "Come on in!" Roper proclaimed, opening a screen door on the side of the building with a rusty yowl. While ushering them through a second inner door, the first thing Jess noticed was the cool, dry air that whooshed out, as though the building was pressurized. Closing the door behind her, they were all temporarily plunged into darkness. As he led them down a set of stairs to the concrete floor six feet below ground level, Jess' eyes adjusted to the dim blue lighting. She noticed a wide platform extending across the open space, creating a loft-like area above. Looking closer, however, she was shocked to discover there was no second level, and the platform was actually the edge of an enormous ship.