Startoucher

by C. J. Odle

  Billy pulled up the search warrant template and began to customize it with Jake’s details.

  Adam meanwhile called Sigma, the code name for their Ukrainian associate who worked in Google’s AdWords division in Waterloo, Canada. Sigma was a highly paid engineer specializing in the development of search algorithms, the complicated formulae that determine the search results returned, and how they could be optimized to make money through advertising.

  When Jake had visited Gemini’s headquarters and explained about his visions of aliens in the desert, Billy and Adam had deemed it worthwhile to hack Jake’s Facebook page and send the log-in details to Sigma. Although Jake rarely used Facebook, his timeline stretched back to his college years, and they uncovered his interest in karate, working out in gyms, and driving off-road vehicles in the mountains. They also sent his LinkedIn data in addition to details from his career, including high-profile clients and case topics. Gemini asked Sigma to run a learning detection algorithm on all this data to build up a semantic “fingerprint” of search interests.

  Once Sigma had created this fingerprint, he entered it into the anonymized database of fingerprints in the AdWords system to pull up the larger digital “body.” This was a process called “Fuzzy Matching,” and once complete, it provided Sigma with full access to Jake’s entire search history on Google.

  “Sigma apologized for the delay,” Adam said. “He was working late and clean forgot. He’ll send last month’s data dump now.”

  Billy blinked rapidly as an e-mail arrived in Sergeant John Richards’ mailbox.

  “Looking at the cell towers, the last signal from his phone came in from Cima in the Mojave just after eight thirty on Tuesday night.” Billy looked up. “The e-mail explains there are very few towers in the desert, so no triangulation was possible.”

  “Bingo!” Adam exclaimed as he scanned through Sigma’s report. “Jake was searching for info on Kelso Dunes around lunchtime on Tuesday.”

  Marina stood up, her green eyes glinting. “It all fits. Jake told us about his visions in the desert, and now I’ve seen him there too. He was definitely holding something back when he came here. Did you see how he flinched when I asked for more info?”

  “You could be right,” Adam said. “Over the last week, there have been UFO sightings in the Mojave.”

  “Plus,” Billy added, gazing at the pi tattoo on his finger, “one of the two recent reports online about being scanned took place in a desert.”

  “We’re going,” Marina said, putting her hands on her hips. “Get ready.”

  “Do we really have to go now?” Billy asked.

  “Yes,” Marina replied. “We’ll take my car, it’s only five thirty. If we’re lucky, we’ll miss the morning jam.”

  Sarah was painting. Up all night, she’d begun late afternoon with brief sketches that had developed into this much bigger piece. She didn’t want to be painting, not now, not this, but she felt compelled. Half the time, her hands had moved automatically, her mind unaware of what she brushed until it emerged on the canvas. With a final stroke, she put down her brush and held her palette in midair as she studied the portrait of Jake.

  Had she been wrong to call him after the party? It hadn’t felt like it. It felt like a door unlocking after being shut for far too long. She remembered how she’d felt when he’d asked her where the stallion was and held her gaze. She could feel his strength and confidence, but there was something else, a wildness, a yearning to be free like the mustangs racing over the prairie. Even if he worked as a lawyer in a suit, Sarah could sense another, much deeper side to Jake, waiting for the right person to bring it alive. She’d been attracted to him almost instantly the moment they’d met and was pretty sure Jake felt the same way about her.

  She picked up her brush again. She’d been working on his face in the painting, using broad strokes of color to establish the outline of his features. Now Sarah switched to working on the background, figuring out what kind of landscape suited him. The way you set a portrait said as much about the subject as the face. So how best to depict Jake?

  He’d run off. Even worse, he’d done it twice. The first time, Saturday night at her party, he’d left so quickly Sarah had wondered if he wanted to spend time with her after all. She’d been willing to forgive him because it was already quite late when he’d gone, and a successful professional like Jake probably did have urgent work to do, even on a weekend.

  Sarah painted in some sand. She wanted to recall something of the beach scene where they’d walked, and the orangey hues looked perfect. She couldn’t imagine Jake with the greens of a forest. Although born in New York, Jake was an LA guy through and through, and hotter tones were required. Briefly, she thought about putting a cityscape behind him but decided it didn’t feel quite right.

  That Jake had run off a second time really worried her. He’d refused to take her calls, and then had replied hours later with a short text that failed to explain why he’d reacted so badly to their kiss. Sarah had called a couple more times to try and find out, but again he’d refused to answer. If any other guy had behaved like that, Sarah would have kicked him to the curb in a heartbeat. But with Jake she didn’t want to. She knew what she should be doing, yet here she was painting his portrait from memory, his features stuck indelibly in her mind.

  As her brushed moved, the background took a stranger turn, more surreal, with deeper colors set against the sand, threatening shadows, and stark moments of relief. She painted in swirls and peculiar shapes, oddities that shouldn’t have fit but did. Hues of a night sky crept in, with clusters of stars, the beginnings of a nebula fading into the abstract designs around it. She began to use subtle shifts in shading to try to connect this background to Jake, conveying the impression of a dreamscape.

  Sarah cleaned a brush in turpentine, then dipped it in fresh paint to work on his eyes, dotting the reflection of the stars without knowing why. Why add all this to Jake? Did she not know enough about him to paint a more literal image? If so, why keep painting? Why not do what she should have done in the wake of the party, and forget about him? This was LA, after all. Good-looking guys weren’t exactly hard to find.

  She sighed and took out her phone. One more chance. She would give him one more chance to live up to the initial promise. At the very least, she deserved an explanation for his behavior. Maybe this early in the morning she’d catch him off guard before he got up for work.

  Sarah found his name in her contact list and waited for the call to connect.

  In the control room of the ship, Jake watched the Pyramid as it concluded its analysis, with the entire existence of mankind on the line. The images cascading on the gossamer screens began to slow and fade, then the waves of brilliant yellow and white light emitted by the Pyramid dimmed to only a flicker. Surely humanity’s fate should come down to more than simply the flickering of an alien machine.

  Vega turned toward Jake and tried to reassure him. “Perhaps the Pyramid will tell us humans are likely to evolve and overcome their aggressive tendencies.”

  “Does he have faith in his species?” Sirius pulsed, peering at the Pyramid.

  That was the problem. Jake didn’t know how this would go. The world suffered from too much violence and destruction for him to feel optimistic, and there were a host of other issues that could force the aliens to make good on their threat.

  The Pyramid fell dark, then flickered on again, half of it lit with bright-white light, half of it a pale yellow.

  “The results of the analysis are in,” Sirius pulsed without a hint of emotion. “And the data is… confused.”

  “What do you mean, it’s confused?” Jake demanded. He lost patience with the alien. How could it be so calm while it contemplated genocide?

  “Not confused,” Vega pulsed and then gestured with its long hands. “Balanced. The evidence in favor of mankind and the evidence against are almost equal.”

  “So, now what?” Jake asked. “Do we get the benefit of the doubt? No human tr
ial would condemn someone with the evidence so finely balanced.”

  “We must communicate with our superiors,” Sirius sent, then stepped back from the pedestal. Vega walked over to Sirius’s side, and both aliens stood ramrod-straight as nictitating membranes closed slowly over their large black eyes.

  Jake felt it the way a swimmer might feel the rise of a whale in the ocean. An electronic communication, traveling across vast distances of space that, at the speed of light, would have taken years to reach its destination. This pulsed instantly through the interconnected web of the universe. He didn’t pick up the detail of the conversation, but he had the sense of a discussion, even an argument, taking place between Vega, Sirius, and whomever listened.

  Jake resented being shut out of it, as if he were a client waiting while lawyers argued in chambers before a judge.

  “We have spoken with the Council of the Supremes,” Sirius announced, membranes rising to uncover its jet-black eyes. “It represents the collective voice of our species, and it has decided that there should be a—judgment of the facts.”

  “A trial?” Jake pulsed.

  “You would call it this, yes,” Sirius replied.

  “It is the protocol when the margin is so close,” Vega explained. “Your species will be given the opportunity to defend itself. Witnesses will be gathered to represent it, and to speak on its behalf.”

  “Is this why I’m here?” Jake asked. “Because I’m a lawyer?”

  Sirius turned toward the three gossamer screens and swept its right hand in front of them. The screens shimmered brightly and then disappeared. The alien then pressed its palm flat against the surface of the Pyramid, and the pale-yellow and white lights went out.

  Vega stepped toward the curved wall, a few feet to the right of the console. The alien pulsed into the floor and three stools rose silently in a triangle.

  “Jake,” Vega sent, “please come and sit.”

  Jake walked over to sit on the stool indicated by Vega. The alien turned toward the wall by the stools and pulsed again. A section of the luminescent surface became as clear as glass, revealing the first hints of dawn in the desert outside.

  Vega sat down, and Sirius walked over to join them. Both of the aliens’ faces had grave expressions as their stools rose until their unnaturally rounded heads were level with Jake’s eyeline.

  “Come on, guys, how bad can it get?” asked Jake, the seriousness of the situation almost comical.

  “Jake,” Sirius pulsed, “you are here because we broadcasted an encoded message across the greater Los Angeles area. We used a biometric frequency specific to the human pineal gland. Those whose glands were receptive would have begun to see visions of us here in the desert.”

  “With nearly twenty million people in the catchment area,” Vega continued, “we expected two to five individuals to respond strongly to this frequency.”

  Jake suddenly remembered Marina telling him two other people had also reported visions of being scanned.

  “The strength of the signal being broadcast was increased,” pulsed Sirius, “until one of those individuals found their way to the desert.”

  “You, Jake,” sent Vega, “you were the most sensitive. When our monitors alerted us, we collected you up from the other side of the dunes.”

  Sirius pressed the fingertips of its hands together, and Vega did the same.

  “So you called me here by destabilizing my pineal gland,” Jake sent, crossing his arms. “And then you were forced to operate? Why?”

  Vega turned toward Sirius.

  “When I analyzed your brain’s memory banks prior to operating,” Sirius pulsed, “it became apparent that in your teenage years you had repressed the natural growth of your pineal. This, in conjunction with our encoded frequency, caused the instability.”

  “OK, OK, I get it,” Jake pulsed and threw his hands up in the air. “But what’s the prize? What do I get for being the chump with the overactive pineal?”

  “Jake,” Vega sent, leaning forward slightly, “if mankind must be removed from this planet, then two representatives will be taken back to our home in the Pleiades to ensure the species does not die out. This particular Startoucher experiment will have failed, but we would not wish to lose out on the potential for further genetic development.”

  “Representatives?” Jake pulsed as he flinched at the thought. “You mean I’m—”

  “You would be one of them,” Sirius sent. “You represent an interesting strand of genetic material. Especially now since you have the cosmic plasma implant.”

  “You said there would be two,” Jake sent.

  Vega nodded. “We would require a female specimen as well, to allow your species to continue and to facilitate future cloning.”

  “Who?” Jake asked. He had visions of the aliens searching for his female equivalent, forcing the two of them together in an experimental lab and watching over them as if the humans were monkeys in a cage.

  “It is for you to decide,” Vega pulsed. “We have learned through experience that couples make the transition better when there is a strong compatibility.”

  The two aliens sat with their long hands on their laps, waiting for Jake to speak.

  “And what if humanity wins the trial, what then?” he asked.

  “You can still return to the Pleiades with us, should you wish, Sirius pulsed. “Or, if you prefer, you can remain here on Earth. Your brain’s memory banks from the last two weeks would be wiped clean to ensure that you had no memories of us and the Startoucher project.”

  Jake looked to his left through the clear panel in the wall. The rays of the sun filtered through the dawn sky to cast a pale light over the scrubby sand and dunes. High above the desert, a solitary bird glided through the air. How Jake wished he could fly with it across the horizon and avoid having to turn back and face the aliens and their bulging eyes.

  The whole thing was like some kind of sick joke. If everyone else on Earth was killed, he would survive. The idea was repellent, even if he did get to have a female companion. And what if mankind won? Then he could return to Earth with his recent memory wiped. Jake realized with a chill that his memories of Sarah would vanish in an instant.

  He sighed and turned toward the aliens. Their translucent bodies looked thin and feeble, but their minds were powerful, and instinct told him that any attempt to attack would be swiftly rebutted.

  “Do you have other questions, Jake?” Vega asked, its translucent forehead furrowing.

  “When am I supposed to go and find someone to come back with me to the Pleiades in the event mankind loses?” Jake pulsed, his lawyer’s mind on autopilot.

  “The trial starts in twenty-nine Earth hours,” Vega replied. “You will leave in a short while, and if you do not find someone before the trial, Sirius will select the female specimen.”

  Jake glanced at Sirius’s somber face and felt no confidence in the alien’s skill as a matchmaker. He put his head in his hands and tried to navigate the rapids swirling through his mind.

  “And what about the trial?” Jake sent, straightening up. “Where will it take place?”

  “Here on this ship,” pulsed Sirius. “I will be the prosecutor and Vega will speak on behalf of mankind.”

  No surprises there, thought Jake.

  “I could go and fetch the army when I leave,” Jake pulsed. “I could stop you from doing this.”

  “We would not allow you to do so,” Sirius pointed out, its thin mouth twitching.

  “And it would not stop anything, Jake,” Vega pulsed back. “Even if your human military tried to destroy this ship, our reprisal would be swift and decisive. No, Jake, a trial must take place. It will be recorded, so those who come later can learn more about humanity at this critical stage of its development.”

  Jake bit back an angry response. “All right,” he pulsed. “If you’re going to be the prosecuting and defending counsel, who will the judge be? Another one of you? Because if so—”

  “The judge w
ill be one of the Supremes,” Sirius sent. “Supremes are evolved beyond even us. They have moved past the need for a limited physical existence and are not involved with the petty details of the material universe. I trust this will be a sufficiently impartial judge for you.”

  Sirius got up from its stool and turned to Vega. “I must prepare. I have witnesses to gather.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jake and Vega watched on the control room’s gossamer screens as Sirius made its journey to collect witnesses. The alien left in a vehicle appearing to be a small oval capsule, the top half an elongated dome of clear, glass-like material and the lower base glowing brightly as it ascended from the main craft. It slipped through the blue sky above the desert so quickly and silently, only someone watching for it would have noticed.

  “How will Sirius collect the witnesses?” Jake asked. “Simply land and persuade them?”

  “Sirius will establish a temporary wormhole between the pod and the space where each individual is located and use it to transport them to the interior of the craft,” Vega explained. “Once on board, Sirius will use a pacification laser to render them unconscious. It will be safer to transport them like this.”

  “So you’re going to beam them up and abduct them?” Jake pulsed.

  “Sedate and remove for necessary study,” Vega corrected him.

  “And you’re letting the prosecutor of this case also pick the witnesses for the defense? That doesn’t sound like such a good move to me.”

  Vega gestured to the screen. “All the witnesses will be neutral and chosen according to who best represents the collective voice of your species. I am sure Sirius will select correctly. The procedure is well established.”