CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
“This like no smart plan, Alex,” Song said as he admired a row of hardcover books, featuring Darwin, Lewis and Clark, and other tales of exploration, in Alex’s library.
Alex wondered when Song abandoned his signature orange hair. Today’s natural black streaked with blue patina presented a more chic look. The familiar sound of his voice, along with his continued enthusiasm for life, brought so much comfort to Alex.
Over the past two days, as he welcomed his old team from Eridu, that sentiment struck again and again, begging the question: why hadn’t he done this sooner? These were the true friends his life lacked. Kole. Denise. Ron. Jason.
They spent the previous evenings dabbling in Alex’s new plan—the program he mentioned in the L.A. Federal Building; the one designed to keep the world functioning.
The more controversial details—one’s he’d been scared to share with members of the government—bubbled out of him. Having finally revealed his next level, effect-every-person-on-the-planet code, he awaited a single reaction from any of the reeling attendants.
Because those present owned healthy shares in Broumgard’s, he worried about misjudging their inner character.
The possibility of offending the fundamental beliefs of his previous underlings brought equal concern. If one left indignant, they could end his ambitions, jump-start a global catastrophe.
Song’s initial statement lacked confidence. Knowing Song, Alex hoped the words carried sarcasm.
Each ticking second frayed another nerve.
Surveying those present, going from face to face, he tried to gauge at least one reaction.
“Don’t listen to him, dear,” Denise said as she leaned forward in one of the over-size leather chairs. The woman had lost over a hundred pounds since her days at Eridu and wore her new found wealth openly: big-faced Rolex, diamond broach, gaudy rings on each finger. “I, for one, lloovvee the idea.”
“You have something to drink in here?” Kole asked as he rose from an ottoman and opened a nearby cabinet, then another. Judging by the broader shoulders and wider thighs, he spent more time in the gym. His teeth looked whiter, too. Other than that, Kole hadn’t changed, besides he now dated actresses, models, and ballerinas.
Alex almost told him which cabinet to check, but being two doors away, he left him to figure it out.
“Anyone else have a thought?” Kole asked as he found the liquor and filled a glass halfway with Jameson, “I mean, this is heavy stuff. The end of cash, lawlessness.”
“Been there, did those,” Song said with a dismissive wave.
“Open them pretty brown eyes, sugar,” Denise said to Kole. “The world is changing. Broumgard did us good and I’m as loyal as anyone in this room, but they in trouble no matter what we do. This shit going down is bigger than one company. I see what you want to do, Alex. Hand some countries the glass slippers, and others the big F.U... I’m with you though, one hundred percent.”
“Way crazy idea, but I way crazy. I in too,” Song echoed as he stood behind Kole, awaiting a drink.
Kole handed him the one he held and poured another. “We know the big man’s in,” he said, nodding toward Jason Johnson, who rested in the chaise lounge reading from a Kindle.
Alex laughed at how the man hadn’t bothered to lose any weight or change to any perceptible degree. His faded New England Patriot’s T-shirt seemed to be a pre-globilization hold over.
Jason completed the line he was reading and looked up. “Of course, I’m down. I have yet to visit Cosmic Conflict and my guys and I are waiting to launch a mermaid world that’s going to restructure our physiology, create a massive…splash.” He grinned, “I need this pissing match to be over.”
“How ‘bout you, Sticks?” Kole said before he sipped from the aged whiskey.
Carl Simpson’s white hair sported the same bowl cut. Perhaps the top had thinned. His freckles looked less prominent. He waited a tick, looked about nervously, and then replied, “Alex always has the best ideas.”
“That leaves me, and hopefully you all know, I’d never miss being a part of this,” Kole lifted his drink. “To old times and monumental reunions.” He upended the Jameson.
“Live long and prosper,” Jason said before returning his eyes to the Kindle.
“Well, I guess it’s settled,” Alex said. “I know it’s a wild idea and it’ll take all of our effort and resources to saturate the globe in the given time frame, but it can be done. And because of the people in this room, it will be.”
“I’m actually getting excited,” Kole said. “I feel the old juices flowing. It’s world changing time for us, yet again.”
With his team reassembled, Alex’s leadership juices flowed as well. “We’ve all agreed to commit, and I expect everyone to honor that. Forget our past accomplishments or our current lives. We need to go back to working like impoverished interns.”
“So, you want me to smoke hella weed?” Kole said. “And play video games when no one’s watching?”
“Show lots of cleavage to increase my odds of sticking around?” asked Denise.
Alex laughed. “I was thinking more like dedicate very minute. Embrace our deadline and exceed it. Things like that.”
“Gotcha, boss man,” Song said.
“Tomorrow we meet down here at six-thirty, breakfast, and then head downtown to the Atrium where those we trust will be waiting for us. I understand, for everything to work smoothly, we need our own people. Remember, keep the end goal as need to know only. I don’t want to sound cliché, but the world is counting on us.”
In less than a week, his team would criss-cross the globe. Song spoke Mandarin and Korean, giving him that part of the world. Jason headed to the London Atrium, putting Europe under his domain. Denise could choose between Australia and India, leaving the other English speaking country for Ron. Kole staked a claim on all of South America.
Every nation had talented programmers more than eager to comply with a well-respected Broumgard employee trying to assist the Lobby.
Alex patted Kole on the back, shook Song’s hand, and left Jason to his book before heading upstairs to his room. As he trekked the glass halls, he thought about his upcoming tour through America—no longer the most divided nation in the world, just one divided country among many. If things went well, he might be able to stop the growing chasm. Perhaps his plan could even stitch the United States, and the globe, back together.
Rosa waited on the sofa, watching the news. Upon seeing him, she smiled, patted the seat next to her. “How did everything go?”
“Excellent. It’s nice to have the old faces in one room again. To see them embrace my plan one hundred percent, despite its controversy, was special.”
“Well, you’re doing a good thing,” she said. “I’m proud and relieved. The world is losing its way. Technology has been luring us away from God, or in softer terms, away from our humanity for decades. The Lobby amplified that to the millionth power. You stopping the illegal entries, allowing our government to get a grasp on things, pull in the reigns; that’s important. I’ve wanted to have this talk, ask how you really feel about all this. It’s comforting to see, by your actions, that you value a position I can support.”
He winced. If she really considered all the possible endings; knew all the details; some of the selfish thoughts swirling in his mind, she’d react differently. He wanted to share his true values. He would share them, the very moment they stopped fluctuating.
“Half of me agrees: Our government needs control for it to have leverage. Criminals controlling access frightens me. I’m unsure about technology stealing our humanity. Perhaps it’s just adding convenience.”
“Alex, before Roy’s death, you had promised to seek help for an addiction. I want you to consider the possibility that your opinion is skewed by that addiction. I’m positive you’re incapable of thinking clearly on this subject. I’m equally positive smart phones, texting, selfies, and creating the perfect profile pic are a sickness eating away at reality; at God’s world; at our ability to experience.”
“That could be true, Rosa. But who’s to tell people what’s right; what’s healthy.”
Rosa studied him a few seconds. He read concern on her features, waited for her to say, “The Bible.” Instead, she grinned in that sad way that caused him to reflect on his position. Perhaps he was cracking up, making poor decisions, being driven by an unseen force. Rosa squeezed his knee, leaned in and touched her forehead to his.
He exhaled and admitted. “Sometimes I know, just am dead certain, no matter how I approach this Lobby situation, I’m betraying something or someone I love.”
“Alex, you’re doing the right thing. When it’s under wraps, I’ll fight to get you into rehab. Once clear-headed, you’ll see what I’m saying. Just hold on, trust in me, until then.”
“You’re probably right.” But as likely, you’re wrong.
“I can’t shake this image of mobsters controlling the world with violence and brute force. You’ll be stopping that.”
He nodded. Internally, he reflected that his task involved taking power from Peter and giving it to Paul. In a perfect world, it would stay in the hands of the people. Could his plan really produce that end?
On the wall (converted to a television), President Tanner orated to a crowd. Something he, and every other leader, had been doing daily. Alex pushed aside the magnitude of everything. The idea his actions might impact the worlds frightened him to the point of inactivity. Regardless, a percentage of people would hate him. It felt like every decision he made brought a greater viscosity to the atmosphere around him, making it harder and harder to proceed.
He paddled on, hoping for a rescue.
In a light voice, Rosa said, “Anyway, did you have any luck contacting Adisah?”
An undertow pulled on his lower body. Where was Adisah? “No, I have Victor trying hourly. There’s a problem with the connection at Eridu. Some message plays when you call, asking to respect his privacy.” He licked his lips, closed his eyes, inhaled deeply.
Alex needed Adisah’s counsel. Perhaps he’d expound something enlightening enough to lead Alex down an alternate path? Yet, he understood the desire for privacy. News vans lined the streets of Alex’s neighborhood for a quarter mile. He couldn’t imagine the types of people trying to get at the Montana facility.
“Peter stopped by and brought you some papers,” Rosa said. “He asked me to make sure you look at them asap.” She made her way to the night stand near their bed.
Alex watched President Tanner wave his enthusiastic end-of-speech wave as he exited the stage.
A montage of tanks, soldiers, and riots led viewers to commercial. He fantasized about what the world would be like a year from now. Going down each of his two possible forks brought vastly different endings, neither ideal. One ended in global destruction, the other in a collapse of his world.
“Here we go,” Rosa handed him an 8x11 envelope.
Accepting the packet from over his shoulder, he held it at arm’s length, stared at the Presidential seal emblazoned on the front.
Tension floated away as Rosa sat next to him. Her love kept him sane. Wondering whether that would be enough to see him through this stole hours of his sleep each night.
Tearing off the top of the Presidential seal, he pulled out a stack of paper a half-inch thick.
A letter in business format sat on top. A scan of the bottom revealed Tara’s signature. He knew she’d been as busy as him over the past few weeks. Eager to learn what consumed her days, he read:
Alex,
I am aware of your current responsibilities in building monitoring stations to insure we control access to the Lobby.
Thank you for what you are doing. Your task may be the most important in a line of monumental assignments. My team has worked hand in glove with the legal representatives of our nation, trying to improve our position for the upcoming summit. I write this with the consent of President Tanner: the rumors are true—conflict is escalating. Not some tit-for-tat posturing, but a global strife that could escalate to the use of nuclear weapons. It appears interpretating ethics and morality provides the deadliest game of all.
This letter is to invite you to that global summit, August 6th.
This meeting will involve leaders and representatives of twenty-seven nations.
The summit will take place inside the Lobby’s, Honest Meeting Room. We will discuss the future use of the Lobby. Our goal is to remain there until we reach an agreement that staves off military action.
This is only possible if we control Lobby access. You must excel at your duty.
You should know numerous world leaders have requested your presence. They will want to hear your opinion. Stay focused. Stay vigilant. Do not fail.
Sincerely,
Tara Capaldi
He passed the letter to Rosa and scoffed. Meeting in the very machine they delegated over must be the height of irony. But Honest Meeting Room provided immense advantages for something of this magnitude. It guaranteed ease of travel, it negated the debates over who would host.
Honest Meeting Room hovered near the top of the Lobby’s most popular worlds. Business transactions consumed the majority of its use, but also custody hearings, negotiations, and discussions of all types, because every statement made in that particular world passed through a lie detector.
Real world polygraphs worked off of physiological tells such as sweating palms, erratic heartbeats, irregular breathing. All of which could be manipulated with training or because of mental illness, such as adopting false memories. The detector in Honest Meeting Room monitored the electrical signals in the brain. Human thoughts sprouted near the center of the mind in the temporal lobe. When a person recalled a fact from memory, they retrieved it from the hippocampus in the bottom middle of the temporal lobe that stored memory.
When a person fabricated a tale, it processed information through circuits in the cerebellum, located in the frontal lobe, where imagination and abstract thinking occur.
This made the deception detector in Honest Meeting Room unbeatable, regardless of training or mental illness. You’re either recalling a memory, or creating your own. Follow the current, know the truth.
Alex perused the remaining documents: other personal letters of support, the probable proposals from various countries, the Health and Wellness outline that Tara had presented to him after Roy’s death.
When he reached the end of the list of attendants and found Agent Andrew’s name absent, a twinge of joy curled the corners of his lips.
Picturing the strange man reading the list two dozen times, fuming to greater degrees each moment he reached the end; each time he read Alex’s name, caused a single laugh to escape.
“What is it?”
“I was just laughing at one of Adisah’s life maxims,” he said as he dropped the rest of the packet on the table. “No matter what, the world finds a way to continue down an ever-improving path.”