Date Point 10y4m1w3d AV
El Obour City, Greater Cairo, Egypt, Earth
Robert Murray
“So she’s a cheater.”
“Yup.” A moment of white-hot anger lit Firth’s eyes for a second before he clamped down on it. “Horse is the nicest fuckin’ guy in the world, too, an’ that whore went an’ cheated on him with that skinny fuck Harvey.”
Murray saw Walsh glance at him in the rear-view mirror, and shrugged and nodded.
Firth did not, apparently, think that this was satisfactory. “No, bro, give us your actual thoughts. I want at least ten words.”
Murray’s face wrinkled briefly around a thoughtful sniff and he touched a thumb to his chin. “I love ‘Horse.” he said, finally. “You couldn’y find a better man if you searched the whole Earth tae fuck. But Legsy an’ Price, God rest ‘em both, they fuckin’ called it way before it happened.”
“RIP.” Firth aimed his eyes upward and touched his forehead, navel and shoulders. “But yeah, there you go.”
“What’s the full story, Murray?” Walsh asked.
“…Pricey’s exact words were ’Neither of them are ready for a relationship’.” Murray revealed, and cleared his throat.
“Ah.” Walsh nodded.
It was a subject Murray preferred to avoid, so it came as a relief when Vinther got on the radio. ”Okay, they’ve gone into the apartment block. Murray, set up on the south side. Pavlo, Walsh, northeast. Firth, drive.”
They dismounted and got into position, and the two vehicles merged back into the traffic. It was simple enough to find a quiet spot where he could wait and watch. Okay, Scottish skin and hair weren’t exactly the local flavor, but Murray knew a lot about just existing in a way that completely bypassed all of a person’s perceptual instincts and just made them sort of… treat him as part of the landscape.
Vinther’s decision to keep Firth in the car was a sensible one. Firth was a genuine monster, completely unsuited to going unnoticed, even if he tried to dress down. Instead, he was dressed to play the opposite role and attract attention if need be, and so they’d stopped off at the “American Big and Tall” tourist shop before rendezvousing with the STS element to grab him some noticeable attire, and had succeeded beyond their wildest hopes. There was just something about a six-foot-seven titan wearing an aggressively ugly aloha shirt and board shorts cut for the five-hundred-pound obese market that drew the eye.
Murray’s conservative khaki slacks and navy blue rough cotton shirt went completely unnoticed.
Even in the shade the heat was oppressive, and he took the opportunity to re-apply his sun cream. Crue-D meant that sunburn was a minor irritation at worst, but why put up with it at all?
”Suffering, GUINNESS?” Vinther asked, as his car patrolled past.
Murray snorted – he’d forgotten his temporary new call sign – and waved reassuringly to the car.
Not much happened for a long time, and then the south entrance to the apartment building opened.
”GUINNESS has eyes on KING… PRINCE…and QUEEN. POIs in the street, south side.” he called.
“Copy that GUINNESS. Their rental’s waiting round the corner, west side. BARKEEP is watching it.” Vinther sent.
Murray nodded and watched Ava. She had her camera out and was-
-He saw her blink six feet backwards down the street, facing the wrong direction and with her camera holstered. In one instant she was walking behind the younger Harvey, and in the very next she was looking wildly around in abject bewilderment, as if searching for something that had suddenly vanished. A lone strong gust blew some trash and desert dust down the road in a miniature tornado.
“What th’-?” he began, having no idea how to report what he’d just seen.
”Something wrong?” Vinther asked.
“She just…glitched?”
”Whaddya mean, ‘glitched’?”
Murray frowned as Ava turned a full, confused circle, and the implications of what he’d just witnessed finally clicked into place. “…Ah, fuckin’ shite. Detain, right now!”
“Moving.”
Murray set off at a run, weaving through the traffic like it wasn’t there, and was behind Ava and grabbing her before she had a hope to see him coming.
He was relatively gentle with her, but Ava went from turning confusedly on the sidewalk to suddenly being pressed against the wall with her arms behind her back, securely held.
She didn’t take it well. ”What the fuck?!”
“Easy Ava. It’s me: Murray.”
”Murray?!” She squirmed to try and escape. Up ahead, Sean and Simon turned back, saw what was happening and both started back to Ava’s aid before Walsh and Firth appeared out of the metaphorical woodwork and secured them both. “Get off me!”
If Firth was a little rougher with Sean than was strictly necessary, Murray decided not to comment. He didn’t have much sympathy for the lad himself, but then again, holding Sean’s cheek against the wall like that was treading the fine line of professionalism. Firth wasn’t going overboard, but he could have been gentler.
Ava plainly felt differently. “Firth, you hillbilly son of a crack whore, let him go!”
Firth gave her a narrow-eyed glare that spoke of his near-bottomless loathing for her for a shaved instant before his control returned. He pressed an implant scanner to Sean’s head, grunted at the green light, and all but threw the skinny young man over the sidewalk to lean against the car Vinther and Pavlopoulos had just arrived in.
“Oh, big bad man try’na prove it?” She spat. “I bet you cried when your daddy fucked you in the ass, you little bitch!”
Vinther snorted as he got out of the car. “Jeez, she’s got a mouth on her…”
Ava’s feet scuffled in the dirt as she tried to fight back. “Murray, you let me go right now.” She snarled. Murray yanked his scanner of his belt and pressed it to her head. It pinged a happy green and he relaxed.
Firth apparently wasn’t satisfied. “Double check.” he snapped, shoving his own scanner into Murray’s hand.
“…Still green.” Murray confirmed, after repeating the test. Firth snorted and stalked away to bundle Sean into the SUV.
Ava at least cooled a little with him gone. “Happy?” she demanded. “You gonna let me go now?”
“Sorry, Ava.” Murray zipped some plastic handcuffs around her wrists.
“Murray, for fuck’s sake…”
“Come on, lassy, settle down. Please.” Murray requested, calmly. “You stepped in some shite, that’s all.”
“Good!” She snapped, then sighed and finally relaxed. “…Fine.”
“Thanks, Ava. Gonny frisk you for weapons now.”
“Whatever.”
She grumbled something that sounded inventively vulgar in Spanish as Murray gave her a businesslike and efficient patdown, finding nothing more than her camera, phone, passport and press ID.
“Walsh?” He asked.
“Hey, you’ve got the entertaining one.” Walsh patted Simon Harvey reassuringly on the shoulder. The journalist looked more bored and resigned than upset. “Mine’s good as gold.”
“Right. Inty the van with him, then.” Murray proclaimed. Ava had finally settled into sullen silence and allowed him to steer her firmly into the Chevrolet to sit on the back seat next to Pavlo.
As soon as the door closed, Vinther covered his mouth to hide a huge grin. “God damn! I don’t know who taught that girl to swear, but she could give me lessons.” he commented.
“She’s even worse in Spanish.” Firth grunted as he circled round the SUV to get into it, plainly not amused. “Beats the fuck outta me how ‘Horse used to put up with it.”
Chuckling to himself, Vinther got into the Chevrolet’s driver seat, and Murray settled into the back seat, sandwiching Ava between himself and the mercifully much smaller Pavlopoulos.
“Just what in the shit is going on?” She demanded, as soon as they were moving.
“Canny tell you.” Murray said.
“Come on, Murray, it’s me. You can’t give me anything?”
“Lassy,” Murray warned her as he fastened her seatbelt, “Don’t mistake my civil treatment for liking you.”
Ava stopped squirming against her cuffs and went still. Suddenly looking hurt and sad and small, she slouched in the middle seat, staring at her knees.
They were back on the Cairo Ring Road before she spoke again. “…How is he?”
“Have you no’ seen the news?”
“Yeah, yeah, the whole Beef Brothers thing.” She tried to wave hand dismissively and only succeeded in twitching her shoulder awkwardly. “I mean… how’s he doing? Is he okay?”
“He’s okay.”
“…Thanks.”
She was quiet and well-behaved all the way back.
Date Point 10y4m1w3d AV
Planet Perfection, The Core Worlds
Harry ‘Rebar’ Vandenberg
Akiyama was the first to land, and he did so with characteristic precision, slamming his ‘chute open, swinging on the sudden change of momentum, and ballet-stepping neatly onto the target landing platform, his carbine already raised and aimed.
Sikes was only a second or two behind him, and announced his arrival with a higher-velocity landing that must have left the deck reverberating.
If the Corti target felt any emotions at all at this sudden arrival, it – he – didn’t betray them. Those huge black eyes flicked from one man to the other and, very calmly, it raised its hands in surrender.
The Vz’ktk was rather less phlegmatic about the whole thing. It produced a panic noise somewhere between a hoot and the sound of a man clog-dancing on bubblewrap, and turned to run.
Vz’ktk had a decent turn of speed on them when they needed it – nothing that could outrun a human of course, but still quick enough that the situation needed controlling now before anything regrettable happened. Rebar angled his descent, popped his ‘chute, and then deployed a trick that they’d worked out only SOR could get away with, thanks to the incredible ankle support offered by the EV-MASS – he hit the ‘chute’s release while he was still a good six feet up.
Intimidation tactics really didn’t come any better than slamming into the deck like a human meteor some meters in front of the panicking alien, which was promptly corralled. It spun, looking for an exit, then in response to some kind of barked order from the Corti, it spread its arms in surrender.
The plan was going off almost without a hitch. Titan darted up the ship’s ramp to commandeer its computer systems before the Corti could muck with them via some neural cybernetic controller or whatever, and Sikes began patiently explaining through his translator that the two beings were now detained for questioning.
“REBAR, TITAN.” Akiyama called. “Ship’s empty. No pilot on board. Pulling the memory.”
“Copy that, TITAN. STARFALL, REBAR: You okay up there?”
There was a pause that was a little too long and then – “REBAR, STARFALL. Situation’s under control.”
“You didn’t hurt ‘em?”
”Just introduced ET to duct tape, that’s all. They’re fine.”
“Good. Laying a stasis trap for the pilot.”
Snapshot nodded and bundled the two aliens onto their ship, and Rebar released his pack to grab the stasis trap
The trap was one of Titan’s gizmos and what it lacked in aesthetics – it was little more than a laser tripwire, a small computer card and the stasis field generator taped to a power pack – it made up for in effectiveness. Anything that crossed the beam would instantly be contained within the stasis field, which would collapse when the power pack was dry about two minutes later: more than enough time for the victim to be surrounded ready for capture.
Once it was attached to a wall, crate, or any other vertical surface through the simple medium of the SOR’s best friend – duct tape – all they had to do was sit and wait.
That was the theory, at least. What happened was that Rebar was still in the process of sticking it to some kind of cargo-handling drone when the pilot ambled unconcernedly around the corner.
They stared at each other for a moment, calculating how to react.
“…Well.” Rebar cleared his throat. “This is awkward.”
The pilot turned and ran.
“Fuck!” Rebar surged to his feet and took off in pursuit, but Kwmbwrw had long legs and this one had a large head start. Firth would have had no trouble catching up to it, but Defenders weren’t built for speed – Rebar was only marginally faster than his quarry.
“STARFALL, REBAR! The pilot just showed up, she’s rabbiting!”
”I see her. Sending up the drone.” You could say a lot about Blaczynski – his wild party lifestyle, his egregiously ugly tattoos, his chronic ability to stick his foot in his mouth – but when it came down to the wire, he was an absolutely top quality operator, an ice-cold Combat Controller whose awareness of the operational space bordered on the supernatural. ”Take a right off the end of the platform… hundred yards. You’re gaining.”
Rebar caught a glimpse of curly chocolate fur up ahead, but lost it just as quickly behind a huge supporting beam that was part of the vital superstructure for the skyscraper that towered above him.
”Second left in a hundred yards.” B called. ”…Civilian ETs in your way, check your movement.”
Rebar gritted his teeth and somehow found a higher gear from somewhere, felt the deck ring and shake under him as he put his training and the EV-MASS through their paces. He shot past a bewildered knot of Robalin and angled down the sharp left that Blaczynski had indicated.
”Crowd’s slowing her down, keep it up REBAR.”
Vandenberg could see why. The fleeing pilot was bullying her way through the crowd, knocking spindly Vz’ktk and other fragile life forms out of her way. She could get away with it – for all her size, she wasn’t deathworld-dense, and could shoulder-check people out of her way without committing murder. If Rebar had tried the same trick, he’d have pulped somebody.
He raised his voice and roared. “GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!”
It worked – alarmed beings turned, saw a charging deathworlder in heavy armor and wisely decided not to impede his progress. Their reactions were so slow though, and some of the further ones didn’t even hear him. One large Vgork loitered in the path left by the escaping Kwmbwrw and was slow on the uptake even when Vandenberg yelled at it to move.
Up ahead, his quarry dashed right and vanished from view.
”Visual contact interrupted.” B called. “Trying to reacquire…”
Rebar shouldered gently but firmly through a bewildered huddle of aliens and made it as far as the intersection. His heart sank. The crowd was just as dense, and while there were several Kwmbwrw standing around, not one of them resembled the target.
“Contact lost.” he declared, knowing the pursuit was a failure.
“..Contact lost.” Blaczynski agreed. If he had no idea which way the alien had gone, then Rebar doubted there was any hope of re-acquiring her. ”Better get outta there, Reeb. Cops’ll be coming.”
Aliens scattered away from him as Rebar spat a furious curse into his mask and set off at a jog back the way he’d come.
“We good to get outta here?” he asked.
”Just need Starfall in the driving seat, REBAR.” Titan called. ”Data’s secure.”
”And our two ETs are confined to quarters.” Sikes added.
A vehicle of some kind swooped low overhead, covered in flashing lights and howling. Some things, it seemed, were universal. Fortunately, it apparently failed to notice Rebar. “Credit where it’s due…” he grunted, picking up the pace. “Local police are quick on the uptake.”
“Think me having two of their buddies tied up here might have something to do with that…” Blaczynski commented. ”We need off this planet ASAP.”
Rebar gritted his teeth and stepped up into a full run again. “Get off that rooftop.” he ordered.
”Don’t need to tell me twice…”
As he pounded back along the promenade, Rebar saw B pause on the edge of his rooftop, flip a jaunty salute to his two captives, then grab his zipline and plunge toward the ship.
Rebar scooped up his abandoned gear on the way past, and they met at the bottom of the ship’s ramp and banged fists together. “Get ‘em next time, Reeb.” B told him, slapping his shoulder.
“Would have… preferred…” Rebar panted. Sprinting in EV-MASS was a task to drain even the most conditioned athlete. “ To get ‘em… this time…”
B nodded, turned, caught the drone as it glided down out of the sky, and hugged it to his chest before vanishing up the ramp and hanging a right onto the Negotiable Curiosity’s flight deck.
Rebar followed and settled himself into the command chair, sucking on the sippy straw inside his mask in a bid to restore some of the reserves he’d just incinerated during the pursuit. It creaked a little as several hundred pounds of man and armored space suit tested its engineering, but did little more than that.
“How long ‘til we’re in the air?” he asked.
“Just getting clearance from local traffic control.” Blaczynski said. “Wouldn’t wanna get smeared all over downtown by the AA because we didn’t ask nicely… Done. Flight clearance received.”
He waved a hand through the volumetric controls and grunted happily as the ship hoisted itself off the pad and pulled in its ramp and landing gear.
“They’re letting us fly in a zone with a security alert?” Vandenberg asked.
“Don’t question it, bro.” Blaczynski advised him, and finished laying in their flight plan and speed.
Rebar fidgeted awkwardly nonetheless, fully expecting interceptors or a ground AA station to abruptly latch onto them and make awkward demands like ordering them to land. It was a profound relief when they hit the minimum warp altitude and Starfall pulsed the drive.
The Negotiable Curiosity was much faster than the shuttle. What had been a five second trip in the shuttle was over before Blaczynski had even removed his hand from the control to activate the FTL.
“Okay…HMS Caledonia, this is SOR one-oh-seven flying November Charlie, we’re at RP Alpha.” Blaczynski called.
Rebar studied the holographic sphere that was the ship’s sensor display. “Where are they?”
“If they’re running cold we shouldn’t see them anyway, but… hmm…” Blaczynski turned in his seat. “Yo, Titaaan?!
Akiyama clanked up the deck and stuck his head through the door. “‘Sup?”
“Did you fuck with the navcomp?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Something wrong?” Rebar asked.
B nodded, and hit the comms again. “HMS Caledonia I say again: Sierra Oscar Romeo One Zero Seven STARFALL flying November Charlie, operational objectives achieved, we are at the rendezvous point. Come back, over.”
They strained to listen. A few trillion photons, some portion of which had been traversing the endless night since the cooling of the early universe, reached their journey’s end in Negotiable Curiosity’s communications sensor array as an unregarded quiet hiss.
“…What’s our contingency for Caledonia being a no-show?” Akiyama asked, quietly.
“Loiter at RP Bravo in low emissions mode for no longer than eight hours.” Blaczynski said, enacting exactly that plan. The ship turned, lurched briefly through superluminal space, and then went dark as soon as it was safely back below lightspeed. “Then make best speed for Cimbrean. Treat Caledonia and all its crew as orange until definitively established otherwise. Do not dock with Caledonia nor share confidential information over comms with any of her crew unless and until they have been proven green.”
“Why the loiter?” Vandenberg asked.
“‘Cause it could be technical problems or something innocent and they might need the escort.” B replied. “And… hell, if something compromised Cally then humanity’s fucked anyway, ‘cause they’ve got the jump codes for Earth and Cimbrean.”
“Unless they managed to scrub the computer before they were taken over.” Titan pointed out.
“Yeah, well…Whatever’s going on, eight hours gives them time to fix the problem and get in touch, or broadcast an SOS to the RP. ”
Rebar took a look out the window as if that might achieve anything. Even if it was right next to them, Caledonia’s matte-black hull would have been invisible anyway. “Okay, well… Grab an MRE and settle in, guys.” He advised. “Guess it’s time to hurry up and wait.”
Date Point 10y4m1w3d AV
US Embassy, Cairo, Egypt, Earth
Ava Rìos
The good news was that they’d taken the plastic zip tie off her, and her hands were no longer bound behind her back.
The bad news was that they’d put some metal handcuffs on her, and her hands were now bound in front of her. While this was admittedly an improvement, it didn’t exactly feel like Everest had been climbed.
Still. The air conditioning was on. That was nice.
The big dude in the suit who’d taken over from Murray in looking after her managed the impressive feat of being even more impenetrably taciturn than Murray himself, who was friendly and engaging even if he preferred to deploy his words like an old lady counting out pennies.
This guy was a human wall in a badly-tailored black suit.
There was nothing to do for what felt like hours, and not in the sense of a boring twenty minutes or so, but in the literal sense that the day had probably been and gone and the sun had probably set. Ava was bored out of her mind, growing increasingly tired and sleepy and there was nothing to do except fidget, sit and think, try and get comfortable. The only way to try and keep track of the time was counting the number of times that Man-wall was periodically replaced by a slightly different Man-wall.
Eventually she folded her arms on the table and tried to grab a nap. She wasn’t sure if it worked – maybe it wasn’t long after that point that the door opened, or maybe she successfully dozed for a while – but either way she sat up and blinked when somebody new entered the room.
The new arrival was a woman in her… early forties, if Ava was any judge, with hair that plainly hadn’t had more than a quick lunchtime meeting with a brush today, and her arms full of too many things – a laptop, her phone, several paper folders, some pens, a coffee mug…
Unlike literally everybody she’d dealt with in the last few hours, the newcomer immediately won some points by not looking either totally composed and emotionless, or pissed off. Mostly, she looked like she was a plate-spinner with lots to stay on top of, but she gave the impression that Ava, while being another plate, wasn’t actually an unwelcome one.
She managed to get the ungainly armful of stuff she was carrying safely onto the table, offered a warm smile and shook Ava’s cuffed hand. “Hello Miss Rìos. My name’s Darcy.”
“Hi, Darcy.” Ava managed, sitting up a little straighter.
Darcy sat down. “Do you, uh, do you mind if I call you Ava?” she asked.
“Please do…” Ava calculated for a few seconds as Darcy got settled, and decided to go with completely open honesty. Somehow, it seemed like the only card that stood a chance of working. “Darcy, please, what the hell is going on?”
“…At the risk of sounding like I’m dodging the question,” Darcy replied, adjusting her seat, failing, and trying to adjust it again. Ava found herself warming to the woman’s dorky, busy energy. “What do you think is going on?”
“Can’t you just tell me?”
“Believe me, I would if I could.” Darcy offered an apologetic smile.
”Why can’t you?” Ava asked her. “What’s so goddamn important?!”
Darcy smiled and shrugged. “I can’t even tell you why I can’t tell you. Stupid, isn’t it?”
Ava sat back as far as being handcuffed to the table would let her. “You got that right.” she agreed.
“So… what do you think is going on?” Darcy repeated.
“What do I think?” Ava asked. “I think we’ve got a deadly enemy out there.” She tried to gesture through the wall and winced as the cuffs stopped her hands with a painful jolt. “An alien enemy.” she elaborated instead. “I think they blew up my my home, killed my family, murdered my friend… I think they have a spaceship here on Earth, I think they can control people through implants in their brains, and I think they stole a bunch of Pakistani nukes to try and start World War Three in the middle east. It’s either that or I’m hopelessly paranoid.”
She awarded herself some brownie points as Darcy cleared her throat and examined her laptop. That, Ava judged, was evidence of a solid hit.
“That’s… an extraordinary claim.” Darcy said, carefully.
“Yeah.” Ava agreed. “Usually I’d keep it to myself, but… I mean, I’m chained to a desk and I’m talking to an MIB.” She shrugged. “I figure I’m onto something at least.”
“I could probably do something about the chained to the desk part.” Darcy offered.
“That’d be nice…?” Ava asked, hopefully.
Darcy nodded to the human wall, who nodded and took Ava’s cuffs off entirely. The opportunity to rub at the sore spots on her wrists and shake her shoulders loose was a kind of minor ecstasy.
“Why do you want to know?” Darcy asked.
“Why-?” Ava gesticulated as if the answer was obvious. “Because I want to do something!”
“Do what?”
”Anything!” Ava told her. “Something! I don’t know what, but…”
Darcy gave a sympathetic nod, and typed a quick note on her laptop. “I can definitely appreciate that sentiment.” she said. “Do you need a minute to think about what exactly you mean? ’Anything’ can mean… well, a lot.”
“I don’t think another minute would help.” Ava shrugged. “I’ve tried… I guess you know about me and Ada- uh, Staff Sergeant Arés, right?”
Darcy just nodded.
“…I tried being there for him. Being, like, his anchor or his foundation or whatever. I fucked that up bad. I just… I know I’m not suited for the military life. What does that leave me with? I thought maybe if I could dig up the truth, I’d be able to think of something…”
“And what would you have done with the truth, whatever it was?” Darcy asked. “What would you have done if, say, everything you suspect turned out to be completely accurate?”
“I don’t know.” Ava confessed. “…I don’t know.”
Darcy smiled sympathetically, closed her laptop, and handed her a paper handkerchief.
“You can do something, you know.” she said.
Ava wiped her eyes dry and sat forward. “Do what?”
“Tell me what exactly happened to you on that street corner, just before Sergeant Murray detained you.”
Ava nodded, and composed her thoughts.
“I was following Simon and Sean.” she said. “We’d just spoken to this blogger guy, he’d been poking around that gunfight and some reports of UFOs. He said that there was a woman we should try and find, she’d been kidnapped and her mother murdered. Gave us a name and some addresses we might try…”
Darcy picked up her coffee. She didn’t drink it, just held it warmly in both hands.
“…We were on our way back to the car when… it was like time stopped for everything except me. The cars stopped moving, Simon and Sean stopped moving… hell, the air stopped moving. It felt solid, I couldn’t… I was stuck in this little circle and couldn’t get out. And then Suit Guy was there.”
“Suit Guy?” Darcy asked.
“He was at the airport when we got off the plane. Did a pretty good job of acting like an ordinary member of the public, but I saw him watching us. He looked like a… a businessman, or something. He had a nice suit on, an expensive watch, he had short hair, a mustache, no beard… you know. I figured he was with you guys, maybe.”
“What did he do?”
“Nothing, really. He said ‘hello’, told me not to be alarmed. He said that he wanted to speak with me – me personally – and that he had questions for me, and answers too.”
“Did he give you anything, or take anything from you?”
“He gave me some numbers.” Ava nodded. “ I entered them on my phone. I think they’re coordinates, or maybe like a ZIP code or whatever the Egyptian version is? I don’t know. They’re a way to find him.”
“He specifically said he wanted to speak to you?” Darcy confirmed.
“Yeah.”
“And then what happened?”
“He… vanished.” Ava snapped her fingers for emphasis. “And everything started moving again. And, I was so busy looking for where he’d gone that I didn’t even see Murray until I was up against the wall.”
“Did Suit Guy tell you his name?”
Ava shook her head. “Sort of. He told me to call him by a number.” she said. “Six.”
Darcy gnawed thoughtfully on the end of her pen. “And… did he say why he wanted to speak with you?” she asked.
“I asked him that. He just said something really cryptic and vanished.” Ava told her. “He said, uh… He said… something about… basketball?”
Darcy quite wisely stayed silent and let her think hard as she tried to recall the particular words Six had used.
“He said…” She exhaled in frustration, and it finally came to her. “He said… ‘Because only humans would play basketball with their prisoners’.”
“I see.” Darcy nodded. “And, did anything else stand out to you?”
“He said ’humans’. As if he’s not human himself…” Ava thought long and hard. “I’m sorry. It was just sudden and confusing and I guess maybe I was freaking out a bit. I can’t think of much else.”
“That’s okay.”
“Can I ask you some questions now?”
Darcy put her coffee down. “Yes….” She said. “But I might not be able to answer.”
“I understand.” Ava promised.
She ran her fingers through her hair to try and sort out what her most pressing need was.
“…Is there anything I can do?” she asked.
“You’ve already done a lot.” Darcy said.
“What, by coming to Egypt and getting caught up in stuff I only suspect I understand?”
“By answering honestly and openly. You’ve said a lot, and it will help. It’ll especially help th e SOR.”
Ava nodded and looked away. “Too bad they hate me.”
Darcy gave her a long, slow, calculating look, and then she put down her pen. “Do you mind if I go a bit beyond the relationship between interviewer and detainee for a second, and give you some life advice?” she asked.
Ava blinked at her, then indicated for her to go ahead.
“My job – a big part of my job – involves figuring people out and giving them what they want to see, and telling them what they want to hear, so that they’ll open up to me. It’s… rarer that I’m ethically able to tell people what they need to hear so that I can help them.” She said.
Ava nodded, listening.
“We’ve only just met, but I’ve learned to trust my instincts about people. And I think you have good intentions.”
Ava gave a defeated shake of her head. “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.“
“So is the road to Heaven: The difference is judgement.” Darcy replied. “And good judgement can come with experience, perspective and education.”
“So your advice is…?”
“You have… fixations. Your home, your late friend, your ex-boyfriend… your Big Secret that you came here to uncover. I admire that, really: you’re tenacious. Stubborn. Driven. And it all comes from a very good place, but you’re burning yourself up because you’re trying to do it all yourself and you won’t let other people be strong for you when you’ve run out of strength for yourself. You need to learn how to let go and be weak when you need to.”
“Weak?”
“Everybody’s allowed to be weak sometimes.” Darcy said. “There’s no sense in trying to run on a broken leg.”
Ava shook her head. “I don’t… I want to be a good person. I don’t want to burden people with my problems. Is that wrong?”
Darcy smiled and began to gather her stuff. “For what it’s worth?” she said, standing up. “I think you are a good person. I think you’ll achieve good things, if you give yourself the time you need to heal first. And the people who really care about you want to be burdened with your problems: Let them help you, and things will turn around. That’s my advice.”
She left, and Ava found herself sitting alone except for the man-wall.
Determined not to cry in front of a stranger – or at all, if she could help it – she settled for getting up and taking a tentative stroll around the room to work some of the stiffness out. Man-wall didn’t respond.
“Anyone ever tell you you look kinda like Dwayne Johnson?” she asked him. This elicited no response. “So… What happens now?” she pressed. “Am I being released, or…?”
The door clicked open and one of the other man-walls stepped in. “This way please, Miss Rìos.” he requested.
Ava edged around the table, cautiously. “…No handcuffs?”
“No.”
“Okay…” She cleared her throat and followed Man-wall number two into the hallway outside.
They weren’t in a large building, and all he really did was show her from one door to another on the same floor. This new one was more comfortably arranged, with a couple of couches, a coffee machine and a television on the wall, plus a few synthetic plants and some framed landscape photographs on the walls. Comfortable, but impersonal. Simon and Sean stood up as she was gently ushered inside.
“You okay?” Sean asked.
Ava nodded. “Never thought I’d get life advice from an MIB.” she said.
“Life advice?” Simon asked.
“Just… some words of wisdom to think on.” Ava yawned. “Jeez, how long was I in there?”
“It’s four in the morning, local time.” Simon revealed. “By your personal clock, you’ve been up all night.”
“…what happens now?”
“Now? You get some sleep.” Simon ordered, pointing to the longer couch. “I think we’ll be here a bit longer.”
“You mean ‘a bit’ in the British sense, right?”
“Sleep while you can.” Simon repeated.
“What about you guys?”
”Sleep.” Sean stressed. He grabbed a blanket from the back of the short couch and handed it to her. “We’ve been napping, we’re fine, but you look like death warmed up.”
Stubborn as she was, Ava seriously thought about folding her arms and staying awake, but instead she rolled her eyes, took the blanket and gave up.
“Fine, fine, you charming ass.” She threw it round her shoulders, kicked her shoes off and sank onto the couch, which damn near swallowed her. Her fatigue caught up and hit her like snow falling off a roof. She yawned, and shook her head to try and clear it. “Jeez… Okay…”
“Go on, duck. We’ll wake you up if anything happens.” Sean told her.
“Quit nagging…” Ava grumbled, but lay down and turned on her side until she was comfortable. “You’re worse than an old woman…”
He didn’t reply, and she put her head down and tried to sleep.
Date Point 10y4m1w3d AV
Allied Extrasolar Command, Scotch Creek, British Columbia, Canada, Earth.
Owen Powell
“You’ve got to be fookin’ joking!”
If Special Agent Darcy didn’t take Powell’s disbelief well, she did a good job of not showing it. Even writ large on the wall TV in General Tremblay’s office via a camera in Cairo, her face didn’t betray any emotion save earnest seriousness. ”No, major. I’m absolutely certain that she was telling the truth about Six saying he wanted to speak to her specifically, and I’m satisfied that allowing that meeting to take place is the correct course of action.”
“You’re asking me to let you send two of my men into what could well be a trap on the say-so of a civilian with a known history of infidelity.” Powell returned. “And you’re proposing that we allow this woman, who’s aptly bloody demonstrated that she fundamentally can’t be trusted, to learn top secret information.”
“I disagree.” Darcy countered. “I’d stake my professional reputation on it that you’re badly misjudging her, major.”
“You bloody will be if this goes ahead!” Powell retorted.
General Tremblay waved Powell down and threw in his opinion. “Powell’s got good reason to be reluctant, agent Darcy. There are significant trust issues involved.”
“The major and his men may not think she can be trusted, general: I do. And with all due respect to the major, it’s my job to assess who can and cannot be trusted.”
“And the rationale for allowing this meeting to take place, rather than simply detaining him?” Tremblay asked.
”This isn’t like the roller derby attack. Six has been on Earth for some time now and has evaded detection throughout. If we try and detain him, he’ll just slip away – migrate to another host body or effect an escape somehow.” Darcy explained. ”And this is too good an opportunity to miss, general. We could gain real insight into Hierarchy operations on Earth by doing this, maybe even take a step towards securing the planet.”
“And that can only be achieved if we let him talk to Rìos?” Tremblay asked. “He wouldn’t be open to meeting, say, you?”
”Our psych profile on Six suggests that what he’s doing is testing us, general. We think he wants an ally that he can work with, one who’ll scratch his back so he can scratch theirs. Ours.”
“All for nowt if that treacherous girl leaks DEEP RELIC to the world.” Powell said.
“If the Hierarchy had the ability to panic and inflict real harm on us, they would have by now.” Darcy shook her head.
“They have four nukes.” Tremblay observed.
”Which is nothing next to what they could do to us if they managed to get even one wormhole beacon on this side of the barrier.” Darcy said. ”We think their play this whole time has been to try and find a buyer for those bombs who can pay them with a beacon: Several… violent parties have been fishing around in search of wormhole beacons since the Zulfiqar was hit.”
Tremblay rubbed his chin, and turned his chair. Admiral Sir Patrick Knight had been summoned from Cimbrean for this meeting, and was standing by the window running his index finger thoughtfully across his lips. “You’ve been quiet so far, admiral.” he commented.
Knight shot a sympathetic glance at Powell, but nodded to the screen. “Agent Darcy makes a compelling argument.” he said.
“Sirs, I really must object in the strongest-” Powell began.
“Powell old chap, I know you must.” Knight interrupted, reassuringly. “I have misgivings about the girl myself. But we must rationally weigh the pros and cons.”
“…Yes, admiral.”
Tremblay cleared his throat. “Powell, this is too good an opportunity to pass up. Much too good. If you’re concerned about the situation and security, then I’ll give you the command and you can see it done right, with whatever resources you deem necessary.”
“Which of course puts you in a position to stress to miss Rìos the seriousness of the consequences should she betray trust again.” Knight added. “I’m sure you can be more than adequately persuasive.”
Powell snorted. “Put the fear of God into her, you mean.”
“I rather think the fear of Powell will suffice.” Knight observed.
“…I’ll want the beef brothers in EV-MASS, my own EV-MASS, a plane for us to jump out of, a jet with a HARM on it in case that UFO shows up, and close air support.” Powell listed.
“You’ll have them.” Tremblay told him. “Agent Darcy?”
“Just so long as the big guns only come in if the shit hits the fan.” Darcy said. “We don’t want Six to spook.”
“Aye.” Powell agreed. “As you wish.”
Darcy visibly relaxed a little. “Thank you major. I appreciate it.”
“I hope you’re right about her” Powell said. “Believe you me, I’ll be very happy if you are.”
Darcy nodded. “I’ll see you in the field.” she said. ”General, admiral. Thank you.”
Tremblay and Knight nodded for her, and she ended the call.
Powell worked his jaw thoughtfully at the blank screen for a second and then turned to the general. “I’d better see it done then.”
“Thank you for your forbearance, major.” Tremblay said, rising to shake his hand. “Good luck.”
“Thank you sir.” Powell returned the shake. “Here’s hoping I don’t bloody need it.”