Chronicles of Jonathan Tibbs 1: The Never Hero (45 page)

At first, it seemed like a commanding officer asking a soldier for a progress report, but Jonathan wasn’t in the military. The question was a kindness, a concern for his state of mind.

As the day drew nearer, Jonathan’s self-preservation refused to come to terms with the realities. It was possible that nothing Jonathan did between now and the moment the Ferox arrived could ever make him strong enough to defeat it, and this uncertainty in the face of a slow tortuous death begged him to search for an escape. Beg as it may, the situation was a cage with no door: no way to flee, no lock to pick. Knowing it and accepting it was not the same thing.

“I’d like some straight answers on a few things,” Jonathan said.

If Heyer noticed the blatant side step of his question, he showed no offense to it.

“I’ll do my best to accommodate,” Heyer replied.

He studied the alien for a moment.

“If I die, if the Ferox kills me, what will happen?” Jonathan asked. “What will it look like to my friends and family?”

“Jonathan, I think it best not to entertain the-” Heyer began.

“Please don’t, not on this. Just tell me,” Jonathan said.

Heyer paused at being interrupted, seeming to look into Jonathan’s eyes and weigh his motives. Jonathan just hoped he would see his need for certainty on this of all things.

Soon, the alien took a breath and let it out slowly.

“Your body will disappear from this plane of existence. If you are in a room with people, it will appear that you blinked away. The time of your disappearance will correspond to the moment of your activation. The moment the gate begins to open on earth.”

“Aren’t you worried someone will notice?” Jonathan asked.

“No, if this contingency is to occur and someone is looking directly at you, they will most likely not be believed upon reporting. More than likely, over time, they will simply assume that they misremembered what happened, that you got up and left or some such scenario, and disappeared later. Even if the worst case scenario was to occur and multiple witnesses corroborated that you had vanished, what would come of it?” Heyer pointed out.

Jonathan nodded. It was elegant in its own simplicity really. Even he, after all, had questioned his own memory when what he remembered seemed impossible. As for multiple witnesses, they may not question their memory, but the world would.

“What happens to my body? Where does it go when it disappears?” Jonathan asked.

“Through the gate,” Heyer said. “Much like the corpse of the Ferox.”

“Why?” Jonathan asked. His eyes were closed, his head shaking as he yet again grew frustrated with the senseless rules of this conflict.

“I’m sorry, Jonathan,” Heyer said, “It is best I don’t answer that. It’s for both of our protection.”

Jonathan opened his eyes, anger showing on his face.

“Our protection,” he said, his tone questioning the alien’s honesty. “You really mean your protection, so stop making it like you are doing me any favors.”

Heyer seemed surprised, almost hurt, that Jonathan questioned his statement.

“Don’t look at me like that. I know that we’re being watched right now,” Jonathan said. “I know they’ve been watching me, at least since the night I went to the hospital.”

“Yes, this is true,” Heyer said. “I’m curious to know how you came to be aware of it?”

“Oh, are you? Well, I curious to know why you didn’t tell me about it! I was completely blindsided. I wasn’t sure I should—” Jonathan stopped. “I wasn’t even sure I should tell you.”

Heyer was hard to read, but again Jonathan thought he looked pained by his statement.

“Why would you think to hide this from me?” Heyer asked.

Jonathan’s frustration erupted at the question. Heyer told him so little that he couldn’t even have a conversation with the man. If the alien would just trust him, stop deciding for him what he needed to know, then this didn’t have to be so difficult. Time was drawing near, and Jonathan couldn’t escape. He couldn’t see what harm remained in letting the alien know how infuriating it was to be kept in the dark.

“Has it never occurred to you that I didn’t want this? Does that really come as some surprise? You’ve never proven that you can be trusted, and the fact that my country’s authorities are investigating you doesn’t make you seem any more trustworthy!”

He was like a teenager revolting against his parents after years of being told what to do. Pointing this out to the alien after they both ignored it for so long, it was like forcing him to acknowledge the elephant in the room instead of just letting him discount it with the promise that answers would eventually come.

“How do I know you aren’t using me? How do I know I’m not involved in something evil? That these people aren’t investigating you because you’re the villain?” Jonathan asked. “How else am I supposed to get my life back? I don’t see how I ever get my freedom if I blindly follow you. You’d have me forfeit everything because you tell me to! On what? Faith? You’re just an alien who broke into my house, ripped me apart and enslaved me to this thing you put inside my chest! You think all this didn’t occur to me when I found out there were people out there who might help me if I turned you over to them!”

He tried to calm himself down. Somewhere in his tirade the anger had neared sobbing. It wasn’t how he’d imagined the outburst going in his head. It made it more difficult to think about what he wanted to say.

“I don’t have a clue what your motives are, and you’ve taken everything from me. Why shouldn’t I just lead them straight to you? That’s the big secret, right? They’re watching me to get their hands on you!”

Somewhere in the middle of Jonathan’s outburst, Heyer had taken on a look of patience rather than surprise. He’d folded his arms and stared at the floor, the ridiculous fedora covering his eyes as he waited for Jonathan to finish, for him to regain his composure.

“That you have chosen the course you have,” Heyer said, “instead of trying to use this knowledge as a weapon against me. It represents the very trust that I spoke of.”

Heyer paused as he seemed to think this statement more weighted than Jonathan immediately understood.

“I will answer some of your questions Jonathan, but first let me ask you something. Why didn’t you choose to betray me?”

“I didn’t choose anything,” Jonathan said.

“But you did, when you didn’t seek out the government cell that you’ve become aware of. Why not go to them? Why not offer your participation in my apprehension? Why not stand on your doorstep and yell that you’ll tell them anything they want to know? It’s a chance to escape, isn’t it? Why didn’t you take it?”

Jonathan looked up at Heyer.

“I’m not sure,” Jonathan admitted, almost growling the answer and then breaking the stare to look at the floor. “Intuition. Something didn’t seem right. I don’t like gut feelings, Heyer, a person is stupid to trust them for long without knowing why they’re there. My gut told me that helping them apprehend you would hurt the world more than it would help me.”

“I understand this,” Heyer said, taking a long breath.

“I am not good or evil, Jonathan. Such concepts are for the simple-minded, and I think you know that. I admit, it would be easier to think of things as straightforward, easier to ask a man to forfeit his life if he believes he is playing the part of the hero.

“I can only make you two promises about my motives. I am doing my best to follow my own moral compass and I will always try to push you in the direction I think best for your species. I give you my word on this.”

Heyer let what he was saying sink in, taking a moment to appraise Jonathan’s reaction, before he continued. “The truth is, this was
never
about good or evil.”

It was as real an answer as Jonathan would get. Heyer believed he was doing what was best for mankind, but recognized that he could be wrong. Yet, the very admission, that recognition that he knew he might be wrong, made Jonathan’s intuition strengthen its belief in the alien.

“Okay, but,” Jonathan sighed, “why are the authorities after you then?”

“Your government took interest in my activities a long time ago,” he said. “Believe me when I tell you that we’ve been playing this game for quite a while now. They detected the presence of a technologically advanced being on their planet due to some of my early mistakes. As human technology improves, the task of staying a step ahead grows more difficult. Rest assured, you Jonathan, are ten times more knowledgeable about my activities than they are,” Heyer said, “and that is why they are watching you. The more they believe you know, the more aggressive they will be in obtaining this information.”

You’re in deep shit.
Grant’s words echoed in Jonathan’s thoughts.

“How is it, Jonathan,” Heyer asked, curiosity on his face, “that you became aware of their surveillance?”

“They had a man dating my roommate,” Jonathan said, “a few weeks back he lost his composure, told me I was being watched, tried to trick me into telling him what I knew, tried to get me to turn myself in. I think we were lucky that they hired an idiot.”

Heyer began to pace the room, bringing his fingers to his lips. His movements, even when he was lost in his thoughts, were a combination of human and precision. They made him appear so familiar, yet different.

A
ngelic,
Jonathan thought.

He remembered that when he’d first seen the man, as an intruder in his home, the grace he failed to hide had been so sinister, snake-like. Now, he wondered, had their initial meeting been under different circumstances, would this grace have been comforting instead of vilifying?

“This is,” Heyer stopped. “I haven’t seen a surveillance team be so sloppy since long before the cold war.”

“What does that mean?” Jonathan asked.

“It means that I find it doubtful that this apparent accident was unplanned,” Heyer said.

“Why would they screw up on purpose?” Jonathan asked.

“That is the question,” Heyer said. “It’s either a genuine mistake or a tactic.”

“Heyer, aren’t they listening to us right now? Isn’t this place bugged?” Jonathan asked, pointing his finger in the air and rotating it.

Heyer looked up from his thoughts and stopped pacing. He smiled at Jonathan.

“They can see us. They know I am here right now,” Heyer said. “However, they cannot hear anything we are discussing. And yes, the room is bugged.”

“How’s that?”

“Human technology, or at least devices for interpreting, amplifying, or recording sound waves, is easy to manipulate. I monitor and block certain coordinates throughout the globe. One of those coordinates is your home. I initiated the block weeks before we met. Stationary things, like a location, are easy and require nothing be physically present. In other words, since the house doesn’t move, no ‘alien’ equipment needs to be left here to maintain the block against unwanted recording devices.”

When he referred to his equipment as alien he’d pointed to himself to show the irony.

“Unfortunately, I cannot always arrange conversations at a specific location, the device in my chest tracks me, indiscriminately blocking the space around me as I move,” Heyer explained. “End result, the only way to eavesdrop on us is to be within earshot physically, with an actual ear. When I’m present, you won’t even be able to make a phone call.”

“That does explain Grant,” Jonathan said. “I’d wondered why they used him at all, but if you can’t listen from afar you’d have to find a way to get someone inside.”

“Yes,” Heyer said, “but it also calls into question his actions, why go to all that trouble inserting an asset arranged to monitor you, only to let you find out about it?”

Jonathan sat back in his chair. It was all a lot to think about. Still, though, Heyer hadn’t said anything about the most important question he had asked.

“You still seem troubled, Jonathan,” Heyer said.

“Heyer, I appreciate your honesty on these things, but you didn’t answer the question that really matters in the end. I’m worried that you can’t answer it.”

“The question of your freedom,” Heyer said.

Heyer sighed. He was more human suddenly, perhaps because he seemed to grow tired.

Jonathan didn’t answer. He waited.

“Jonathan, I’ve lived a long time,” he said. “If we want to measure a life by rotations around the sun, as is your earthly custom, I am thousands of years old.”

Jonathan didn’t know what to make of this admission. He didn’t know what he expected Heyer to say, but he hadn’t expected him to reveal something like his age.

“I have watched man’s society evolve. I’ve considered more men, more human beings, to be my friends throughout your history, than I have any of my own species.”

Heyer looked up at Jonathan.

“In a lot of ways, I know more about you than you truly know yourself. You were identified before birth as a primary candidate for the implant. Due to the course your life took, I feared that the process that selected you would be voided. I didn’t come to the decision to give you this responsibility easily. All that said, and after having seen you survive even when everything said you should have died, I think you are lying to yourself about what you think it is that you want.”