Dark Matter (28 page)

Ankara, Turkey.

Solomon and Natasha looked at the screen.  It was an American news channel, with subtitles in Turkish.

'Mummy,' Natasha looked up at her mother, 'what's an alien?'

'That's someone who is not from here.'  Solomon replied somewhat distractedly.

Natasha looked around at their surroundings in this small, foreign village.  'You mean like us?'

Solomon stole herself away from the news and looked down at her daughter.  'Well sort of.  We are aliens here, as we don't come from here.  But the aliens they are referring to don't even come from Earth, they are not human.'

'They look human.'  Natasha replied brightly.

'Yes they do look like us don't they?  I guess we can't be that different after all.'

The news of the arrival of aliens was a blessing to Solomon.  She knew that it had knocked all other news off people's radar.  The other top stories would all be alien related too; the impact on us, how different nations have reacted, the world stock markets, and other financial news, the list would go on and on. 
A mother and daughter on the run is old news.
  She decided that they should both rest up for a couple of days before moving on.  The next part of their journey would appear more visible as they would be travelling on main routes and through major towns and cities.  The news had also had an unsettling effect upon Solomon, but she had no idea why.  This troubled her even more.

20:00
              10  November [19:00  10  November GMT]

Home of Mme Margaret-Julia Pascal, Felletin, Central France.

A phone call from a friend had prompted Margaret-Julia to put on the news.  When she had digested it, she called her granddaughter Severine and her friend Anne-Marie into the house.

Margaret-Julia had studied people for years, her granddaughter's reactions were obviously genuine, but she doubted Anne-Marie's. 
Perhaps
, she thought to herself,
she just reacts differently; some people do, like a defence mechanism.

'What do you think Anne-Marie?' 

Anne-Marie became guarded, she would have expected Margaret-Julia to inquire first of her granddaughter's thoughts rather than hers.  She decided to tread carefully.

'Oh I don't know.  I guess the powers that be will make the right decisions.  I don't think we should worry too much.'

'And you Severine?'

'Well I hardly know where to start!  I mean this is the biggest thing ever.  There is no more doubt anymore; we are not alone in the universe.  But where exactly have they come from?  Why have we not heard from them before?  Why now?  If they are so much more advanced than us, what can we possibly offer them that is worth their journey here?  What are we going to learn and what are we going to do with it?  What if we decide we don't want them here?  Will they just up and leave at our request?'

That
, Margaret-Julia confirmed to herself,
was a genuine reaction.  I don't know how or why but Anne-Marie knew this news was going to break.  Who is she and what does she want with Severine?

'How about I put this on outside and we eat out there?  The weather is lovely.'

Outside the conversation continued, Severine contributing the most and Anne-Marie the least, not moving much from her “the powers know best”, line.  Anne-Marie, Margaret-Julia noticed, was absorbing everything that Severine said, and she questioned her gently but expertly as well. 
I must,
Margaret-Julia decided
, find out more about Anne-Marie, discreetly but quickly.
  She could tell her granddaughter was already very taken by her and she had no intention of letting her granddaughter get hurt more than absolutely necessary.  Margaret-Julia thought about an old police friend in La Courtine,
he would be sure to make some inquiries on my behalf.

17:00
              10 November  [23:00  10  November GMT]

Reclusorio Norte Prison, Mexico City, Mexico.

Those prisoners not in the exercise yard were inside, most watching the TV.  A news bulletin flashed up before them, most of them moaned at the loss of the film they had been watching.  This was a Hispanic news network, but with subtitles in English.  The room fell silent.  The silence caused the guards to turn their attention to the screen, intrigued as to what could have such an effect on a room full of hardened criminals.  The Spanish speakers in the room gasped first, followed shortly after by the English readers.  Several more gasps followed as the news was revealed to them.  Their existence, their arrival, their physical similarities, the speech to the UN and their travelling out to all four corners of the world.  Then the coverage changed to a local report.  They had arrived in Mexico and had already met with the President.  They showed the President's speech to the people, an alien representative next to the President in full view.  They both smiled, the President telling the people about the “historic accord” they had reached.  How through the help of the Sunarr, Mexico would be transformed in all respects to take its rightful place amongst the first of nations.  Health, Education, Medicine, Science, Energy and Technology would all take a massive leap forward.  The perfect future for the country the President had always dreamed of was finally here.

The guards turned the TV off.  The noise in the room elevated as the inmates discussed what they had seen amongst themselves.  Chuck Holford muttered to himself about how terrific it was to have more foreigners.  Leroy, who would normally have been very animated about such an event, became unusually quiet.  He had thought about his business and could not see it being affected much one way or another. 
People will always seek high quality jewellery and I will be there to supply it.
He could not see his life behind bars being affected either. 
As far as the world was concerned I am a criminal, and I should stay in prison serving out my sentence.
  He was not required to do much, but neither was he able to do much.  Just time on his hands and little to do.

Saeb Tibi and Benjamin Yogev were both shaken by the news.  Not their faith, for both of them their beliefs were founded as much in the cause of their fellow people as they were from sacred texts.  Their creator, who had made this world, could make other worlds as well, other beings; he was not required to tell them.

The big issue for Saeb and Benjamin was how this would affect their people.  Whether both of their people would receive a diplomatic mission from the Sunarr.  What if one did and not the other?  What if they declared for one religion over the other?  So many issues insisted themselves upon them both that it took a while before either could speak.  Finally, Benjamin broke the silence.

'So how do we factor these Sunarr into our talks?' 

Saeb thought for a moment before replying.  'Honestly I do not know.  What if we get left behind?  If the rest of the world moves on?  Then what are we doing?  Who are we?'

At first, when he heard Saeb say "We", he thought he was referring to his fellow Palestinian people or maybe the Muslim world at large.  Then Benjamin realised that Saeb was referring to both their peoples, Palestinian and Israeli alike.  He absorbed this and reflected on what Saeb had said.  He didn't like the conclusion.  In this Brave New World, no one would care about Palestinians or Israelis.  They would be totally invested in their own lives; No sickness, No hunger, No lack of energy, No disease, and No fear as superior technology renders any attack a pointless exercise.  Either the Palestinians and the Israelis would be left isolated or they would be swept aside by a nation with access to the Sunarr technology.  Benjamin looked at Saeb.  He had never felt closer to another human being than he did to him, right now.

'We have both been fighting to win for so long, it never occurred to either of us that we might both lose.'

Saeb looked across at Benjamin, his heart sinking, and nodded silently.

21:05              10 November  [02:05  11  November GMT]

Northeast Corner and East 57th Street, New York

Jayanti arrived home later than usual that night.  Sameena already home for a change.  The smell of cooking greeted Jay as she headed for the kitchen to find her daughter hard at work over various pans on the stove, there were two glasses of wine on the table, Jay picked up the full one and sipped at it.

'I can't imagine the day you have had.'  Sam said, not taking her eyes from the pan she was concentrating on.

'You don't know the half of it.'  Jay realised her mistake as soon as she had uttered the words.  The aliens’ arrival had been very public.  The secret organisation on the other hand was obviously anything but public knowledge.

'Oh?  What's the half I don't know?'  Sam asked, still maintaining her concentration on her cooking.

Jay thought quickly.  'Well everything I was expected to do has just gotten that much harder.  The world hasn't stopped turning you know.'

Her response was sharper than intended; fortunately, Sam didn't rise to it.  Instead, she finished the sauce she was working on and slid it to an unlit hob.  Sam turned to face her mother and saw in her a weariness that she didn't like the look of.  Sam topped off both their glasses and sat down on one of the stools, her mother following suit.

'Why don't you tell me about your day?'  Sam asked gently.

Jay told her as much as she could, glad of the opportunity to think about it properly for the first time.  Sam was amazed by it all.  Seeing the events unfold live had not really made it real for her.  Hearing her own mother recount the events from a first-hand perspective was different, very different.  Her feelings on hearing the news of their arrival.  Being the first human to talk to them, to hear them speak.  Discussing with their representative about their reasons for coming here.  Finding out what they were offering and that for very little in return.  Her mother's place in history had been assured, the first interplanetary conference.

Sam started telling her mother about what she had thought, seen, and heard others say.  Jay tuned it out slightly.  She desperately wanted to tell her about the secret organisation just to hear her thoughts on it, but it seemed to her that now, more than ever, it was critical to keep the secret.  They had been quite specific, in their own vague way;
things are not what they seem
.

13
Gold

11:15
              11 December  [16:15  11 December GMT] 

Office of the Secretary-General, United Nations, New York, USA.

'They are not being at all subtle about it.'  William said to his boss.

As personal assistant to Jayanti Kapoor, it had been William who, more than a month ago now, had delivered the news that aliens were going to land on Earth.  Some things had changed a lot since then, but most things hadn't.  People still went about their jobs, paid their bills, and worried about the future.  Global peace had failed to materialise as factions still fought one another.  Jay was still head of the UN and the aliens were still here, now well ensconced in the countries they had first ventured out to on the day of their arrival.  One thing had changed dramatically though.  The price of Gold.  The first two weeks it had stayed quite steady, and then it started rising on the futures market, where gold is bought for promised delivery over the coming months.  Then last week it started moving up on the spot market as well, where real gold is bought and sold in the same day.  In two short weeks, the value of one troy ounce of gold had increased four-fold.  The futures market was higher than that.  It seemed that there was an urgent and increasing need for gold.  It didn't help that the central banks were holding onto their gold reserves rather than take the opportunity to sell when the price is high.  This was contrary to their stated aim of maximising the value of their reserves whilst simultaneously helping to stabilise the market.

Unfortunately, all the nations that had received Diplomatic Missions from the aliens were not disclosing anything to anyone.  Not even the country of her birth, India or her country of residence, the USA.  There was no official comment by any visited nation.  None.  Not that it really mattered to Jay, not now it was so clear what was happening.  The aliens were requiring payment in gold.  A lot of it.  Countries were desperately digging for it, existing mines were being expanded, and old mines re-opened.  Alien craft were in evidence at most of the major mines, she had the photographic evidence.  However as every government with photo capable satellites had said they were “not available” William had sourced these from a “friend”, Jayanti hadn’t pressed him on that one. 

William laid the satellite photos down on Jay's desk.  After a cursory glance, Jay passed them across her desk to Jane.  Jane and George had become her more or less constant companions at work.  Jay had invited them to stay on to cover the alien story in-depth, offering them direct access to her and a promise to be as open as possible.  Jane picked up the photos and looked through them.  Her keen journalistic eye casting over every detail.  It wasn't necessary this time.  The most obvious feature was the most important.  She asked the question anyway, passing the photos to George.

'What are they building?'

'We don't know is the honest answer.'  Jay replied.

'What we do know,' said William re-entering the conversation 'is that they are anywhere up to a kilometre in diameter, half a kilometre in height and over three in circumference.'

'So they are half a sphere then?'  George asked rhetorically, his eyes not leaving the photographs in his hands.

'Yes, that's correct.'  William replied unused to leaving any question unanswered.

'What is it made from?'  Asked Jane.

'We don't know.  It appears that they are being manufactured on site.  If that's the right phrase.  It seems that it starts out as a ring drawn on the ground, which grows ring-by-ring, smaller each time until it becomes a complete dome.  We have no one who has seen one up close.'

'Why are they building them?'  Jane asked. 
"The what" and "The how" go on the inside pages, "The why" and "The who" on the front page.
 
The why in this case is the most important.

'We don't know that either I'm afraid.'  Will replied.

'We don't know much do we?'  George spoke aloud but this time there was no reply.

'I need more information.'  Jay said, looking directly at Jane.  'It seems to me that this would be an interesting story.  One which any journalist would be keen to take on.  What do you think?'

'But I don't work for you.' 

'I know.'  Jay replied.  'I'm not suggesting that you do.  It's just that this seems like the sort of thing a journalist such as yourself would take on and if you were to find out some information I would be grateful if you would share it with me.'

'How grateful?'

'I would be in your debt.'

Those were magic words to Jane.  Owing a debt to a journalist was something no politician entered into lightly, especially one so closely connected to international diplomacy as the UN.  To have the Secretary-General owe you a debt was a prize indeed.

'OK.  I'll get approval to proceed.  It'll take a few days and in the meantime there is someone I want to speak to first.'  Jane shook Jay's hand, unsure as to whether the bargain was even and if not who was favoured by it.

The door closed behind Jane and George.  Jay turned to Will and asked,

'OK.  What's next?'

'Well we still haven't heard anything about the Israeli-Palestinian talks.  The representatives simply disappeared.  The bodies of the American host and the security guards have been flown home, quietly.  The Mexican's are still insisting it was a drugs bust, and a good one at that.  They probably skipped town and have returned home, even though both governments say No, or they died in the raid and the Mexican's are being coy.  Lastly, they might be stuck in the Mexican penal system under their assumed identities.  God help them if that's the case.'

'Fine.  Next.'  Jay said, aware that this was one more thing she couldn't do anything about.

08:10               11 December  [14:10  11 December GMT]

Reclusorio Norte Prison, Mexico City, Mexico.

There was unease in the prison.  Leroy estimated that a quarter of the prisoners had been transferred already.  The talk was of more to come.  No one knew where they went, not even the guards apparently, but speculation was rife.  The timing of it coming so close to the arrival of aliens could just be chance, but most prisoners didn’t have much faith in chance.  Leroy was not one of them; he knew that he was here because of chance events.  Even so, a part of him knew it had to be connected to the aliens.  How, he didn't know, but he doubted that it would be in a good way.

              He had managed to stay fit, relatively.  He knew his diet would benefit from more fresh food, especially fruit and vegetables, but he was getting the best anyone could in the prison.  He was also unmolested.  The protection offered by his new “friends” Saeb and Benjamin, was both fair and genuine.  He had seen one man dragged off by the “girls’ gang” in his first week and had no intention of being one of them.  The “girls’ gang” were mostly lifers, some already preferred men when they went inside, others went that way through frustration and anger.  Gang rape was one of the most challenging aspects of prison life.

Time for roll call
.  Leroy stepped outside of his cell onto the landing to be counted.  The other inmates were not as numerous as when he had first arrived.  The roll call done they marched down the stairs and assembled on the ground floor.
Time for work detail.
  Around one in five was called forward, Leroy amongst them. 

'Vaya a la yarda del ejercicio.'

Report to the exercise yard
, Leroy translated in his mind,
this can't be good, that's where the others went
.  The exercise yard was a large concrete affair, marked out for various sports and having a free-weights area; it lacked any charm or warmth.  It baked in the summer and froze in the winter, but it provided respite for any inmate from the confines of their cell.  Leroy wanted to be back in his cell right now. 
Safe
.  It was a strange thought to feel that his cell provided safety, but it provided familiarity and that was the only safety that he could feel in this place.  Two prisoner transfer buses pulled into the prison.  Leroy and his fellow inmates fell silent, all too aware that they would be getting on them, destination unknown.

              It felt strange to Leroy to be leaving the prison behind.  He didn't like the prison, its regime, or anything much about it.  The fear of the unknown was much worse though.  His was the second bus, travelling behind the first on the remote and dusty roads.  Two hours into the journey, they pulled into a lay-by behind an unmarked van.  The tension on the bus rose, even the hardened lifers were worried.  The seconds ticked by.  A tall, fit man, who looked in his thirties, wearing what appeared to be a dark suit without a tie, walked to the door of the bus, the driver opening it for him.  Next to the man was a prisoner, he climbed onto the bus behind him, his demeanour was of someone on death row.  Afraid yet resigned to his fate.  A short conversation ensued with the result that the driver left the bus, the prisoner taking his place.  It was then that they appeared.  Two armed aliens.  Just like the ones, which they had seen on the news a month before.  The ones in body armour and full face helmets.  They looked over the prisoners on the bus and the bus fell silent.  They looked to the back of the bus where Leroy was sitting; it felt like a cold dark shadow had passed over him.  He had never felt so alone.  So far from home.  So helpless.

The prison guards left the bus, the door hissing closed behind them.  One of the prisoners sprang to his feet, shouting.

'Where the hell are you taking us?'

The alien closest to him hit in full in the face with the butt of his rifle.  The prisoner's face exploded in a sea of blood as he fell backwards, slumping unconscious into his seat.  The man in the suit spoke to the prisoner driver, who stood up and spoke to the bus.

'You need to be calm and not resist.  These guys do not follow any of our rules.  Just relax and follow instructions.'

Leroy could feel the tears welling up inside him.  He had never felt this afraid before, not even when the robber had his gun pointed at him.  Then he knew what the robber wanted.  He had no idea what these aliens wanted.  The bus pulled off without further incident.  No one attended to the injured prisoner.

10:45               11 December  [16:45  11 December GMT]

La Guitarra Mine, Nr. San Simon de Guerrero, 60 miles south west of Mexico City.

The prisoners saw the huge glittering dome a long way off; as they drew closer, it became apparent that it was to be their final destination.  The sunlight reflected off the dome bathing the surrounding area in reddish, golden light.  The convoy paused briefly outside whilst an opening resolved itself in the side of the dome. 

Now they could see where they had arrived.  It was unmistakably a working mine.  Muted conversations broke out amongst the prisoners.  They could see that most of the workers were prisoners like them.  There were also a lot of aliens. 
They have to be soldiers,
Leroy thought.  It was obvious really as they were organised in units, some marching around, others manning posts.  There also appeared to be civilian mine workers there as well.  The scale of the operation was immense. 
Whatever the aliens want, they want a lot of it
.  The bus drew past a gang of prisoners, recognisable in their prison issue clothes.  Those on the bus could now finally see their faces.  They didn't look well; all looked exhausted without a glimmer of hope in their eyes.  The shadow of death lingered over them.

As the convoy came to a standstill, the driver stood and ordered them to get off the bus and assemble in two rows.  A mineworker stood in front of them, a suited alien, recognisable from the translation device in his ear, next to him.  Leroy noticed that the mineworker also had the same device, partially obscured by his hard hat; he guessed that the alien was going to monitor what the mineworker said.

'I am Manuel and I am the foreman for this mine.  You are no longer on Mexican soil.  This has been designated a diplomatic site under the authority of the Sunarr.  You have been leased to the Sunarr by the Mexican government.  You will work here and remain here until you have served your sentence.  You have no rights here.  No one can visit you here, not even your lawyer.  If you work hard, you will be fed.  If you resist in any way, you and the man next to you will be killed.  Work hard and fit in.  Now follow me to your work detail.'

Leroy's day had just gotten a hell of a lot worse.
Diplomatic status means no Geneva Convention.  No protection of any kind.
He was at the complete mercy of these aliens, these Sunarr, and he doubted whether they would show any mercy.  He followed the prisoner in front, as they were led away.  He was relieved to see some familiar faces, especially those of Saeb and Benjamin, even that of Chuck in a strange way.  He couldn't yet speak to them though, too far away for a whispered conversation, which seemed to be the only type permitted, he knew instinctively not to move from his allocated work place.  He told himself to wait until there was a food break, hoping that it would provide the opportunity he sought.