Confrontation

by William Hayashi

  Lucius and Julius took their time strolling toward the lakefront, with Albert across the street and a block back, keeping the two government vehicles in sight. He kept up a running dialogue with the two ahead of him as they converged on Chuck’s rallying point.

  Neil had dropped Lena off at the entrance of the lakeside restaurant and amusement venue. She sat on a convenient bench and pretended to be reading something on her disguised datapad, keeping a cautious eye out for everyone else to arrive.

  Albert stayed across the street as he watched Lucius hail a cab. When it took off with the government cars in pursuit, Albert hailed one for himself, telling the cabbie to take him to Navy Pier.

  While his cab was backed up in traffic, Albert heard Lena report that Lucius and Julius had arrived. Neil let everyone know where the rental truck was located in the pier’s garage.

  Lucius and Julius made their way to a sports bar that had a good view of the lakefront tour boats. Lucius slipped away before the feds could set up in the restaurant and found the truck. When he peeked in through the front windshield, he saw Neil sitting on one of the watertight cases, eyes closed, head back, looking like he was dozing. When he went around back and opened the door, Neil had gotten up and was standing just inside. Once he saw who it was, Neil grabbed the older man in a bear hug and lifted him off his feet and into the truck.

  “Are you a sight for sore eyes! Everything cool with you?” he said, helping Lucius get into his wetsuit, pulling on his pants and shirt back on to conceal the suit.

  “Yeah, they fed us well and let us out to the exercise room for a half hour a day,” Lucius said.

  “I guess Chuck figures we may be going for a swim later,” Lucius said ruefully.

  “No doubt. After all this nonsense with you two locked up, I want to get the hell out of here as soon as possible. This place is sick, just depressing. We don’t belong here. Let’s hope the things we loaded into the whale last a good long time and we don’t need to do this again.”

  “I hear you, Neil. Let me get back and send Julius to get his suit on.” Pointing at the tanks and masks, Lucius said, “Put them all in one of these cases. If we need them it’ll be easier to get a single one rolled down the pier. Hang here and I’ll radio you in a few.”

  Lucius returned to the tavern, noticing that Lena was sitting at the bar by herself, apparently engrossed in her tablet. Lucius called Albert to see where he was and was told that he was in the bistro one floor below, keeping an eye out for the surveillance team members.

  * * *

  The two shuttles flying away from Washington were being shadowed by fighters as they traveled toward Chicago. G3 and G4 were still blocking the data streams from the secret gravity wave detectors, preventing the military from tracking their ships in any way other than visually, so the F-22s were keeping a close watch on the jumpers as Chuck and Todd secretly motored underwater toward the city. Christopher had Andrea keep the speed down while he worked on something on his datapad. She was curious, but was sure that once the ground crew was secure inside their ships, everything would be fine and they would begin the trip home.

  Damien was busy clipping and uploading video of Christopher’s encounter with the president, some of which captured the rockets fired at the jumpers and also included a summary of the events that had occurred since their making Earth orbit.

  The jumpers quickly arrived over Chicago, hovering five hundred feet over Lake Michigan, with fighters circled directly overhead, keeping watch. Soon, Chuck and Todd signaled that they had reached the area and were staying on station underwater just east of Navy Pier.

  The ground team was keyed up, hoping they could escape without further incident. Lucius and Julius were leading the government surveillance team around to the restaurants and bars of Navy Pier, staying in one place for only a half an hour. Albert had joined Lena at the restaurant’s bar as they kept loose track of the government agents, ready to intervene should they try to take any member of the ground crew back into custody. They couldn’t really offer much resistance to men with guns, but they hoped they could make such a ruckus that they could get away under cover of the resulting confusion.

  * * *

  Laughlin was relieved to be out of the bunker and back in the Oval Office, the Secret Service having decided that the separatists’ ships posed no immediate threat to the White House. He was receiving constant updates on the ships hovering over Lake Michigan, but was still uneasy about the inability to receive tracking data from Dr. Harris’ gravity wave detectors.

  The intelligence community’s top information technology people had concluded that the data blockage wasn’t the result of run-of-the-mill hackers and were now trying to find a formerly unknown group of elite hackers working on behalf of the separatists. The fact that the detectors had been taken out of action was particularly disturbing to the Pentagon for two very important reasons. The first was the hack itself; whatever it was that caused such an effective block was something never before seen. But the more disturbing aspect of the data blockage was that someone outside of the government knew of the existence of the detectors.

  President Laughlin invited Debra Dawkins to dinner with him, just the two of them, to discuss the events of the previous forty-eight hours. The first thing he said once they were seated was, “I owe you an apology, Debra. You were right all along, and I should have listened to you. For the way I treated you, I’m sorry.”

  She smiled and said, “Don’t mention it, Stuart. There was no good way out of the situation once those two were picked up. I have to admit, I’m dying to know Walker’s connection with the separatists. The FBI said he retired and just disappeared a decade ago; kind of a strange coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I’ll say. And the pictures of him don’t show someone I would think was nearly a hundred. I wonder how things would have worked out if Svoboda hadn’t attacked the separatists’ colony. Would they have been more likely to engage us? Atkins was willing to talk to Mathews; what else could have happened?” Laughlin said, fatigue and regret clearly in his voice.

  “He did find out he had a daughter by her. It sounded more like it was a matter of humanity to let him know. Who knows, it may have been a cruelty to tell him and for him to know he would never meet her. Hard to say,” said Dawkins.

  “We’ll send an FBI psychologist to debrief Mathews on his conversations with Atkins. I watched the recordings and I doubt we’ll get much more out of him. They are obviously still in love with each other, it’s a shame they can’t be together. I’m wondering if their society is just as messed up as ours only having blacks in it.”

  Dawkins chuckled, “Really, Stuart? Their ships sat over the lawn outside the window and not a single weapon we had could touch them. They made a trip across the solar system that takes us months in just over a week, and a man born before the Great Depression acts like he’s barely middle-aged. And how about their being able to penetrate the networks in the bunker and the deep shelters? Somehow being able to accomplish those kinds of tasks doesn’t translate into a messed-up society in my eyes. And I’m afraid that any chance for a meeting of the minds with the separatists is gone in light of the Svoboda attack and our holding their men.”

  “It’s true, the NSA and the joint chiefs are going apeshit over the fact that they have absolutely no idea how they got hacked. And it appears that the separatists’ capabilities outpace ours at every turn. This is why everyone wants a crack at their people. Right now the FBI lab is sequencing Walker and Stanford’s DNA, hoping to find something significant that has to do with their health and/or longevity. There’s so much they could reveal to us that would mean a better future for everyone. But in the here and now, local feds are watching those two. The last I checked they were just hanging around a lakefront venue like they were waiting for someone. The separatists’ ships are just circling above the lake. We may still get something out of this whole affair aft
er all …”

  “What did you do, Stu?” Dawkins asked sharply.

  “Nothing. But those two are being followed.”

  Dawkins put her fork down and just stared at the president.

  “What?” he asked in feigned innocence.

  “What is wrong with you, Stu? Haven’t you learned your lesson yet?” She said quietly then asked, “And just what are their orders?”

  “To keep watch and see what they’re up to. If the younger one is off to return to the colony, and the attorney goes back into his retirement, we’re definitely going to keep an eye on him for when the separatists return. We may even nab him once those ships are on their way back to their habitat to see if our research guys can find out why he’s so healthy at his age,” Laughlin explained.

  “And what if he goes with them?” she asked. “What if he’s been with them all along?”

  “We’ll see. But I haven’t given up hope that we can have some sort of dialogue with those who left us. And I have to hope that someday, we’ll be able to come to terms with this country’s sad history of bigotry and racism,” Laughlin said.

  “If they’re lucky, they’ll be off to the stars by then. I just don’t see them going backward and returning to Earth, just moving ever forward. I envy them, and not for what they have; not for the technology, the medical advances, whatever else they have. I envy their vision and the fact that they have the means, the talent and the will to be so much more than we ever will. And worst of all, I despair of what treasure this country has squandered for no better reason than white entitlement,” Dawkins said sadly.

  Chapter 36

  WORK TO DO

  Maxwell called Patricia before midday and asked if she was free to come by his office for lunch. She was working in the genetics lab, testing blood samples from some of the older colonists, measuring the efficacy of the retrovirus that slowed aging, when the call came in. She agreed and asked if Maxwell wanted her to pick up lunch for them on the way, but he said he was ordering in for them.

  When she arrived at the council’s office, she found Maxwell was working on his datapad in concert with the big screen at the end of the conference room table. He stood and gave Patricia an enthusiastic hug and gestured to the seat to his left.

  “I ordered lunch for the two of us, I hope you don’t mind?” Maxwell said, once the were seated.

  “Not at all. I’ve been at it all morning. This was a great idea!” she said. “I’m a little curious about the invitation, but I’m assuming it’s about the mission, Christopher or both.”

  “Both, of course. But let’s wait until the food arrives so we won’t be interrupted. What were you working on when I called?”

  “I’ve been taking random blood samples from residents, seeing how the retrovirus is managing the telomeres in our people. And so far, even after decades, the effect is still going strong. There appears to be no need for boosters of any kind.”

  “That sounds great for everyone. And Doc still thinks we may achieve about double the life span of untreated people?”

  “He’s still cautiously optimistic on that point. Since we haven’t had anyone here die of old age, it’s hard to guess; Doc won’t guess. But we keep monitoring everyone for changes. One of the things I’m looking for is any hint of cellular collapse, but there’s nothing even remotely suspicious along those lines. I’m waiting for Lucius to return to get a sample from him because he’s a handful of years older than Phillip, and I figured if there was going to be anything like that showing up it would be in the oldest members of the community. But so far, nothing!”

  “Good to hear, Pat,” Maxwell said just as the door opened and lunch was wheeled in by a member of the kitchen staff, who served the food. When he was finished, he wheeled the cart against the wall and left amid thanks from Maxwell and Patricia.

  When Patricia uncovered her plate, she was pleasantly surprised to see Maxwell had ordered seafood salad for her. Maxwell poured a crisp, white wine from Placido’s cellar at Sherman’s, and they began to eat.

  After a few minutes, savoring the fresh, home-grown seafood on beds of crisp lettuce from hydroponics, Patricia said, “So just what are you buttering me up for? The food’s great and so is the wine. What’s up, Max?”

  “I want to show you something no one else has seen yet, just me, and probably Andrea, Lenny and Damien,” he said gesturing to the screen and tapping his datapad.

  The big screen at the end of the table lit up with Christopher’s face on the left and a shot of President Laughlin in a glass-enclosed conference room on the right. They watched the conversation between the president and Christopher, and then the aside by the president’s chief of staff. Maxwell didn’t say anything, letting Patricia absorb what was said.

  Moments later, Patricia let out a huge sigh and said, “Wow!”

  “That husband of yours has giant steel balls!” Maxwell said.

  “I was thinking that the president got off lightly. I fully thought Chris was going to do something a hell of a lot more extreme than standing off and showing them that they couldn’t hurt their ships. Look what they did to the Russian building. Chris could have easily done the same thing to the federal building in Chicago, or the White House. His temper’s legendary. And that’s why we had Andrea pilot his jumper and warned Chuck as soon as we found out Chris was determined to go,” she said, chuckling.

  “But the president of the United States?”

  “He’s not our president, and they had Lucius and Julius in custody. I thought Chris was going to break them out of that building,” she said, resuming eating.

  “Well, we’re not out of the woods yet. The ground team is scattered around Navy Pier, and Lucius and Julius are still being tailed by the feds. Have you been there?” Maxwell asked.

  “A long time ago. We used to go to a restaurant there for All-You-Can-Eat Crab Legs Tuesdays. What’s the situation?”

  “At least four government agents are keeping tabs on them. Lena, Albert and Neil are hanging around keeping watch, Neil’s got their scuba gear in a rental truck parked at the pier and they’re going to try to swim out to a jumper underwater when it gets dark. G2 is constantly updating Genesis on the current situation. We got the video of the president and Chris from Damien and G4. By the way, I’m not sure how I feel about a self-replicating artificial intelligence, but TJ assures me it’s just fine. So I guess it’s going to be another sleepless night, or at least until everyone is safe. What do you think Chris would do if they snatched Lucius or Julius back?” asked Maxwell.

  “I fear for the president. Chris still rages inside about those soldiers being sent to the moon. He never forgave and he damn sure hasn’t forgotten. He could have been even more contemptible toward the president, as you know. Let us pray they get away safely tonight,” she said.

  “Can I get an amen?” Maxwell intoned.

  Everyone had been careful around Sydney not to mention anything about Joy’s father or inquire about her being allowed to get in touch with him, although many were curious. Her closest friends were especially careful to say nothing about John in front of Joy or where Joy’s friends could eavesdrop. With all the virtual tiptoeing around her, Sydney was looking forward to unburdening her soul about seeing John again. So it was not entirely unexpected when she called on Patricia in the lab later that afternoon. With Lucius away, Sydney’s closest confidant wasn’t much surprised when Sydney poked her head in the door to her office.

  “Got a minute?” Sydney asked.

  “Sure do. Have a seat. Coffee?” Patricia asked.

  “No thank you. I’m good.”

  “So, what’s up?”

  “I’m wondering how the shopping team and the rescue team are doing? Have you heard anything recently?”

  “I had lunch with Maxwell and he said that Lucius and Julius are free and that they’re looking forward to slipping away under co
ver of darkness tonight. Did you see the news footage of them landing the Jove ship in the parking lot in Houston?”

  “I did. I watched everyone leave the ship. They looked fine. I also saw the footage of what Chris did to the Russian control center. That was quite the statement!”

  “Have you talked to anyone about your conversations with John yet?” Patricia inquired carefully.

  “Not really. I’m still not settled about it, but not so much in a bad way, there’s just a lot to digest. I haven’t said anything to Joy, I probably won’t until she’s much older. But he looked happy and sad, all at once; I can relate. There’s so much I regret. If only John hadn’t been so damn good at his job. I’m not sure if I would have left had I not been discovered. No, that’s not true. I was all prepared to leave, I just wanted to see him one last time the night I left to explain. He had figured out somehow that I was connected to Jaylynn disappearing, he’s damn smart and was the best at his job. And yes, I still love him. I know that now after seeing him again. But any hope of the two of us being together is definitely gone. And there’s no way I can take Joy away from here, she’s happy, she has good friends, and there’s nowhere on Earth where she’d have the opportunities she has ahead of her here.”

  Patricia was letting Sydney say whatever was on her mind, allowing her to talk it all out.

  “I’m glad he made it home without anything bad happening, especially after those rockets were fired at them. What’s Christopher’s plan, do you have any idea?” Sydney asked.

  “Not really, I knew this time I couldn’t stop him, not when he found out that someone grabbed Lucius. This place, the entire concept, is his dream and Lucius was central to making it happen. Were it not for the two of them, none of this would exist. And I think we’ve been around long enough to have proven his thesis about what we can achieve without the spectre of racism hanging over us,” Patricia said.

  “This entire community is unbelievable, I wish I could share it with everyone I love back on Earth. I guess that’s the biggest regret I have, the part that is so hard about my feelings for John. But it’s been ten years, and I have Joy as a reminder of her extraordinary father,” Sydney said, smiling. “When I spoke to Chris before he left, I could tell he had a lot on his mind, but he wasn’t about to let anyone know what he planned. And he didn’t tell you either?” Sydney asked.