Alien Crash Site

Marin County, California

February 22

White light, scented crispy hot, burned through the canvas seams to sear the air inside the tent. Jack continued to pace a long swatch on the dirt floor despite the sweat and dust that clung to him, stirring up more of both. Outside, the indecipherable noises of men and machines pounded in unison to produce a rumble in an off-timed, two-three rhythm.

He hesitated as another amorphous shadow rolled across the rear tent flap. When once again no one entered, he went back to pacing.

After he'd left Quinn in charge of Harry, and Harry in what he'd hoped was more than capable hands, he'd come up Medical's elevator to the rooftop landing pad where he'd found not their people but a half dozen of the Governor's Black Guard.

No surprise the Governor was once again one step ahead of them. Walter had been foolish to think his people that loyal, his company that impenetrable, and the Governor of California that trustworthy. She might look like someone's plump, sweet, blue-haired grandmother, but even Jack knew not to take her at face value. Maybe she hadn't been involved in blowing up the War Room. Maybe. But she'd been there, waiting like a spider in a web when it happened. Disconcerting since she was supposed to be on Walter's side.

He thumbed his finger where his wedding band had been. He missed the weight of it. Its cold comfort even though it had ceased to mean anything to anyone but him. The Black Guard had taken it, along with his wallet, watch, SAT phone, and Walter's switchblade. Fitzgerald's and Walter's things too. Surprisingly unconcerned, Walter waited until the guardsman had left, then stretched out on one of the tent's cots and gone to sleep.

Jack watched his friend's deep, even breathing, mildly annoyed that he'd found sleep so easy to come by. Personally, he felt like a spring-run rabbit wound too tight, and Fitzgerald didn't appear to be much better. She looked tired and on edge, her gaze darting from one tent opening to another. Jack was about to order her to a cot, if for no other reason than to minimize the distraction when a Black Guardsman sporting sunglasses entered through the back tent flap.

"Sir," he said to Jack, holding open the flap. "If you and Mr. Bennett will please follow me?"

Jack went to wake Walter, but Fitzgerald was already there, gently shaking him. So deeply asleep, it took his friend a minute to stir, then another to gather his wits. Finally, he got to his feet, ran a hand through his sandy hair, and did his best to palm the wrinkles from his shirt.

Ignoring Jack, he left through the proffered exit.

Jack tossed Fitzgerald a shrug, then followed.

Artificial lights, mercilessly intense, shone down from above like a half-dozen suns, and Jack had to raise a hand to shield his gaze. Despite the blistering brightness, the air was chilly and damp and smelled vaguely of lemons and anise.

"Take these," the guardsman said and pressed a pair of sunglasses into Jack's palm. Jack slipped them on, and the light went from painful to almost tolerable.

"Holy shit," Walter grinned, looking around, sporting his own pair of sunglasses.

A mammoth tower of blue light shot up from an impact crater in the middle of a forty-foot-high, inflatable structure. The crater was at least thirty feet wide, and who knew how deep. Crystals filled it to the rim: an undulating sea in changing shades of azure, indigo, and gold. Small fires burned across the surface, sparking red and yellow ash high into the structure. Around the crater, multi-limbed robots scooped up claws full of crystals, depositing them in waiting containers held by people in white hazard suits.

"What do you suppose those are?" Walter asked, nodding at the crystals.

Jack shook his head, not surprised Walter was finally talking to him again. This wasn't their first falling out, and it was just like him to come out of a spat and act as if nothing had happened. If Jack had been a girlfriend, he'd have been pissed.

They followed the guardsman around the crater to the back of the structure and a double-wide, windowless trailer. Jack and Walter slipped off their sunglasses and followed the guardsman inside.

The place was awash with tech. Row after row of computer stations abutted a narrow walkway that ran down the middle of the trailer. Computer screens glowered a milky green across fixated faces, none of which were gender-specific or over twenty-five. At the end of each row, Black Guardsmen packed away freshly minted micro drives into small boxes, securing them inside shipping boxes.

Reaching the back of the trailer, the guardsman instructed them to wait, then slipped behind a smokey glass wall.

Alone with his thoughts, Jack wondered again about the blue crystals. Could they be all that was left of whatever ship had fallen from the comet? He hoped not because one thing was for sure: Whatever made the crater, nothing could have survived the crash, spirit or not. And the column of blue light? The force of it, given its perceived weight and density, should have shredded the structure the minute it slammed into its roof.

And yet, here they were.

The Guardsman reappeared, crooked a finger at and Walter, and they followed him behind the glass wall.

A young female private dressed in black fatigues sat at a long table in front of a computer/sophisticated communications array. Shoulders hunched, her gaze wary, she looked like a mouse waiting for the snake to strike. Jack immediately recognized the source of her unease, having seen that look too many times on the faces of his own people.

All of five-foot-nothing, Dr. Marla Viktor's diminutive size did little to blunt the overbearing presence of the Governor's liaison and Jack's former second. Dressed head-to-toe in black, the color only accentuated the sallowness of her skin and the dull sheen to her shoulder-length, ash-blonde hair. Normally thin bordering on way too thin, her hips appeared rounder, her breasts fuller. Having a baby will do that to you. Still, she gave the impression of a woman playing inside a child's body.

"I believe these belong to you." Marla's eyes never left Jack's as a guardsman stepped forward and placed three wallets, watches, and SAT phones, along with Walter's switchblade, on the table. Her voice was surprisingly deep for someone so petite. In any other woman, it would've been sensual bordering on obscene. But because it was Marla's, it was more like knuckles grinding across a lemon grater.

Jack scanned the pile, hunting for the one thing that mattered. It was the one thing that wasn't there.

"Looking for this?" Marla held up his wedding ring pinched between her thumb and forefinger, her red nails biting into its polished gold surface. "Didn't I hear you're getting a divorce?"

That bitch of a smile, flawless despite the small gap between her two front teeth. "It's because of your job, isn't it?" She snapped the fingers on her other hand as her face lit up in a faked epiphany. "Too much time spent away from home, ignoring the little wife? You always were shit at getting your priorities straight."

Her words sliced through him, and his jaw tightened. Had she a heart, he would've gladly torn it from her chest. As it was, he'd have to settle for ripping her arm from its socket and beating her with it.

"If you two are done saying hi," Walter snapped, "I'd like some goddamn answers."

"To what?" Marla locked her arms across her chest and regarded Walter smugly as she leaned into the table.

"Somebody blew up my War Room."

"And you're blaming us?" She gestured at the trio of guardsmen behind her.

"You were camped outside my door."

"And you should be grateful. How many more of your people would have died if my guardsmen hadn't been there?"

Her guardsmen?

Walter took a step toward her, fists clenched. Jack stepped up behind him and put a cautioning hand on his arm, just in case he decided to do something stupid. In the ten years he'd known Walter, he'd never seen him so furious.

"How long have you been waiting outside my company? A day? A month? Since I opened the doors? Were you just waiting for something like this to happen so you could swoop in and take over? Was that the plan all along?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Marla gave him a dismissive wave.

"You entered my building without my permission," Walter spat. "Invaded my private property. Kidnapped my people. Drugged them and locked them away in a hospital—"

"One of your people dialed 911," Marla countered. "As first responders, the Black Guard was obligated to help. A good thing, too. Or would you prefer I put everyone back?"

"The Governor and I have an agreement," Walter seethed.

"Had, Mr. Bennett," the Governor of California said, her calm, elder-statesman's voice dropping down through the speakers in the ceiling. "Had. In light of the disaster at UR, I'm beginning to question your ability to run your organization. It's fortuitous I listened to Dr. Viktor and stationed my guardsmen nearby. How many more of your employees would have died if my people hadn't been there?"

"UR is my company. I built it—"

"We built it," the Governor corrected. "Substantial tax incentives, the relaxation of environmental and construction codes that enabled you to build your structure with both the power and space you needed despite the cease-and-desist petitions filed by all those Marin County do-gooders. And, of course, there's the plethora of H1-B visas I personally arranged so you could import all the talent you could ever need. The list goes on."

"Governor, your investment in my company, below and above ground, has made you a wealthy woman."

The Governor chuckled, and Jack mentally cringed. Walter's temper didn't come out very often, but when it did, it wasn't pretty, and again he put a cautionary hand on his friend's arm. It was an odd reversal of roles. His rare cool-headedness staving off Walter's unprecedented show of fury. Not accustomed to playing the straight man, it made the situation feel a bit surreal.

"A discovery as monumental as what occurred in the War Room?" the Governor continued. "Communication with something not from this world shouldn't be left in civilian hands. I see that now. So, until I discern the role your incompetence played in the injury and death of your employees, Dr. Viktor will be in charge of the War Room and the investigation of whatever crashed in Marin County."

"Governor," Walter said, "Dr. Viktor doesn't have the experience to run such a complex system as the War Room."

"I beg your pardon," Marla said, indignant, but no one was listening.

"Make no mistake, Dr. Viktor is in charge, and be grateful, Mr. Bennett, that I don't put you and what's left of your executive staff in a very deep hole and throw away the key."

This moment. Where the last twenty-five years of my life comes down to the next twenty-five seconds. All the sacrifices I've made, including her—especially her—are blowing up in my face because fate is about to place me in the hands of the most ruthless bitch I've ever known.

Where's a good, solid miracle when you need one?

Jack's SAT phone rang on the tabletop. He reached for it, but the private grabbed it first.

"What's happening?" the Governor asked.

"Jack's SAT phone is ringing," Marla said. The private handed her the phone, and she looked at the screen. "It's Harry Campbell."

"Put him on speaker," the Governor said.

Annoyed, Marla did as she was told.

"Harry, you're on speaker phone with the Governor and Dr. Viktor," Jack said.

So don't say anything stupid.

"Got it," Harry said. "So, I came across this guy who told me how some naked, blue kid and his pet rock broke into his house to use his home computer. He gave me his address. Don't you think we should check it out? I think we should check it out."

"What's the address?" Marla said.

"Well, this is where it gets tricky," Harry said.

Silence.

"Dr. Campbell?" Marla prompted.

"Yes?"

The Governor sighed. "What do you want, Dr. Campbell."

"Jack, what do we want?" Harry said.

Walter hesitated, then gave Jack a nod.

"Dr. Viktor and Mr. Bennett are in charge," Jack said. "Even across the board."

"Absolutely not," Marla protested.

"You know," Harry's voice dropped down from the ceiling again. "I'm not hanging around here forever. And if you're trying to figure out my location, it's not going to work because I've got science on my side."

"I can't trace the signal," The private said, answering the unspoken question.

God bless brilliant Quinn. Someday she'll move into the private sector and buy her own country.

"Alright, Dr. Dosch. Mr. Bennett and Dr. Viktor will share authority in tracking down the alien."

"Did you hear that, Harry?" Jack said.

"Yup."

Jack looked hard at Marla as he picked up his phone, wallet, watch, and Walter's switchblade and shoved them inside his pants pockets. When he held out his hand again, Marla huffed her disgust and dropped his ring on the table with a clatter. Jack ignored the slight, picked it up and slipped it back on, all the time wondering now that they had the Governor's promise, how did they hold her to it?

"Okay, Harry," Jack said. "So, tell me, where can I find this alien of yours?"