Panspermia Deorum (2 page)

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll explain when I get back to Lyon.
Please listen carefully. I have to surrender all of my presentation
data and other NERO files to security before I can board the plane.
After that, I expect there will be an announcement about my
position in the company. It will surely be on TV and it might be
better if you ask Eugene and Sophie to watch it with you at your
sister’s place. I’m being fired, so I’ll join you there. Can you
message me when you get there? I have no idea how my dismissal will
be put across by Ian Waverly, but I’d rather you didn’t watch it
alone. Can you do that for me?”

“They’re going to fire you? Why? There’s something you’re not
telling me, Julien.”

“I’m sorry, I have to go, Elise. Just let me know when you
arrive at your sister’s house. Bye for now.”

He settled the account at his hotel and waited for the
security people in the lobby, after he’d hidden the duplicate
memory stick in the men’s restroom. Two black limousines arrived
and several men, including the conference chairman, swept into
reception. He surrendered everything except his airline ticket,
bank cards, and loose cash. They even took his precious fountain
pen which he’d been given by his father when he graduated from
university. He protested but was assured it would be sent to him
after it had been examined and declared clean. It was made clear
that he would not be allowed to leave Osaka unless he did
everything asked of him. He became animated and glared at the
conference chairman.

“This is a total infringement of civil liberties, and I’ll
most certainly take it up with my solicitor in Lyon. Right, you
have what you came for, can I just get the hell out of here? I
don’t want to miss that flight.”

A wry smile from one of the security personnel indicated
otherwise.

“We’ll be taking you to the airport, sir. You won’t miss your
flight. Now let’s visit the men’s room. We need to scan you without
clothes, and see if we need to do an internal body
search.”

“What? What the hell do you hope to find? A bomb?
Haemorrhoids? The Sun? This is a bloody farce and you know it is.
What about my spectacles? Do you think I’m James Bond? I’m a
scientist and a fed-up scientist at that, but that’s all I am. You
morons are going to be accountable for this. Have you finished
checking out my phone?”

“Could you please come with us, sir? It won’t take
long.”

They marched him to the toilet and asked him to strip off. In
the meantime, his laptop was checked, the original memory stick
confiscated and both were placed in a plastic box labelled with
NERO logo.

He kept his rage in check until he felt a cold finger probing
his rectal passage.

“Just tell me what it is you’re looking for, I might be able
to help you.”

The ordeal came to an end and he was allowed to get dressed.
He decided to have another rant.

“Where the hell is my phone? I need it to contact my wife
when I arrive in Lyon. You’ve checked it out, give it to
me.”

The head security man nodded to one of the others. He then
informed Julien that they could leave for the airport.

“At last, thank you. Now if you don’t mind, I need to use a
cubicle. Your anal probing has triggered my irritable bowel
syndrome, and for what exactly? I need some privacy. Do you get it?
Even you bastards must accept that I want to preserve a modicum of
dignity – I have to wipe my arse! You’re welcome to analyse the
shit paper rather than me flushing it away, if that’s what you’re
after. Yes? No? You never know, it could be explosive
shit!”

“Just make it quick, sir. We do want you to get to the
airport as soon as possible. And we apologise for the
inconvenience.”

Julien retrieved the duplicate memory stick, dropped it
neatly into his underpants and flushed the toilet. He was given his
phone and escorted to one of the cars. The short journey was
uneventful. The tense atmosphere was broken as Julien alighted from
the car and used his phone to take a shot of the licence plate as
it sped away. They had the genuine memory stick, and he hoped that
would at least buy him time. He headed to the check-in, after which
he went in search of the public internet facility.

Reflecting on the train of events he’d set in motion, Julien
couldn’t help picturing his late father. Max Delacroix had been a
mechanical engineer, and although it was never actually said, there
always seemed to be disapproval of his son’s choice of career. Max
was a man steeped in precision, and the practicality of an end
product. He could never truly engage with Julien’s esoteric pursuit
of the intangible, especially as it was accompanied by
stubbornness. What would Max have made of his impetuous walkout? He
would have almost certainly shaken his head and declared it to be
typical. It had never been a comfortable relationship.

S
ir Ian Waverly tried to choose his words carefully,
but he wasn’t really able to structure the speech without reference
to Julien’s unnecessary spreading of panic.

The
interviewers picked up on this and equated it to damage limitation
of some kind. They were on to it like a pack of wolves. Even the
first barb undermined his ill-advised decision to deal directly
with the public in this way.

“Sir Ian, are
you telling us that Julien Delacroix’s declaration was false? Is it
without any substance?”

“I have to
refer you to data which is currently classified. That status will
change when the current information is updated with further
observational values in the coming weeks. Precision is paramount in
NERO, we do not work with speculation.”

“So, why did
you feel it was necessary to explain the decision to dismiss one of
your top employees? Was it only because he contravened your
internal secrecy protocols?”

“The people of
the world were entitled to a comprehensive report from the
conference in Osaka. They were deprived of that when Julien
Delacroix unilaterally proceeded to break ranks, and decided he
would not present NERO’s current position on near Earth threats. I
am standing here today, merely apologising for not having given
that report, and outlining why. Julien Delacroix’s lone action may
have caused more anxiety than is warranted. I wanted people to know
we acted expeditiously to put our house back in order.”

A second
journalist jumped the queue.

“Thanks for
clearing that up. So, can you answer the question? Was there no
substance to Delacroix’s claim that this asteroid will come back in
2039?”

“Yes it will,
but all previous calculations took that into account. Julien
Delacroix ought to have told the conference that both this year and
upon its return in 2039, the asteroid trajectory did not indicate
an impact event. He did not say that.”

“Excuse me,
sir, but he did say that there was zero chance of impact in 2027,
but he also claimed that some stray rock had changed what might
happen in 2039. Are you saying he was lying?”

“Not lying,
just not in possession of the very latest observational data. We
collect this data continuously. He should have taken note of the
new data we sent him while he was in Osaka, but he didn’t, and we
are all bewildered by his omission to do so.”

The first
interviewer seized on this.

“How close to
Earth will the asteroid pass in twelve years from now? You know,
according to the latest data.”

“We can’t be
absolutely precise about this, and things may change again in the
next few years, but we don’t believe it will unduly disturb our
atmosphere. Future updates will be forthcoming and appropriate
action engaged, if that is justified.”

“Hold on, Sir
Ian, but this doesn’t sound much different to what Delacroix said
himself, at least to those of us without an astrophysics degree. He
also said, as you have, that precision was elusive, but the
predicted trajectory would be close enough to justify research now.
He then mentioned that the trajectory may be altered again by
celestial interaction, but we couldn’t realistically rely entirely
upon such good fortune. Is this really about delaying phenomenal
investment to tackle this threat in the hope that we get lucky? A
conscious gamble to finance other programmes, those designed to
counter terrestrially evolved threats? Mistakes for which humanity
itself is to blame?”

“I’m afraid I
can’t say more on the subject, other than we, NERO, are a
highly-trusted world body with an impeccable reputation. This
organisation was created specifically to monitor and then advise on
such threats. You have to trust the evidence, not be taken in by
rhetoric.”

The session
ended on that note, but the subject had established a kind of
bridgehead with the public.

*

Julien received
a message while passing through airport security, but decided not
to retrieve it until he was clear of the checks. Elise didn’t have
far to drive to her sister’s house. She’d also called her son and
daughter, telling them both to make their way there instead of
going to their respective homes. It was an anxious few moments when
Julien passed through the body scanner, having already placed his
phone and the memory stick in a basket, together with a few other
personal effects. He emerged on the cleared side just as the basket
scanner beeped, automatically causing the conveyor to come to a
halt. He couldn’t see his stuff. Thankfully, it proved to be
nothing other than someone having dumped a soft drink in their
basket, one which wasn’t purchased in the airport. The nearest
operative told everyone to stand back and then asked whose basket
it was. The drink was without the required accreditation sticker
denoting airport goods. A young girl raised her hand and was asked
to step aside for questioning while everyone else was moved on.

Julien checked
his phone. Elise had said she was on her way to Geraldine’s house
and expected to be there in under fifteen minutes. He nervously
checked his watch and estimated that he could call her in another
two minutes from an internet café.

The information
display was now flashing the gate number for his flight. He waited
another minute then made the call. Geraldine answered, surprised to
hear his voice.

“Hello, Julien,
where are you? I thought Elise said you were in Japan.”

“Hasn’t she
called you to say she’s coming to see you?”

“No, is there
something wrong?”

“No. Listen,
I’m about to board my flight home and I don’t have…”

“Oh, that’s her
car coming on to the drive now, shall I ask her to come straight to
the phone?”

“Yes, great,
uh, see you soon.”

He was keeping
an eye on the information display. The boarding sign had not yet
appeared, but it seemed to be taking an eternity for his wife to
pick up the call. She began to explain that she hadn’t time to
forewarn her sister of her impending arrival.

“Yes, yes,
thank you, darling. Just please listen. I’m going to have to get on
the plane very soon, but I need to send some files to you. I didn’t
want them to be received by our laptop, so ask Geraldine to switch
on hers. I’ve got her email address on my phone. I need you to
message me the moment you receive the attachment. Don’t try to open
it, you can’t, it’s encrypted. I have to know it’s there before I
get on the plane. I’ll explain everything when I get back.”

“Ok, but
this…”

“They’re
calling the flight, just do it now.”

“Right, please
stay on the line.”

Elise explained
this to her sister as best she could. Julien sat down, put the
memory stick into the internet café laptop and attached the file to
the mail. He then heard Elise’s voice again.

“Hello, Julien,
are you still there?”

“Yes, honey,
I’m ready, are you?”

“I think so.
The laptop is on and we are into webmail.”

“Ok, just stay
with it, I’m running out of time in this internet café, but I’m
sending the file now. It could take a while to get there.” He
pressed send and breathed deeply as the seconds turned into
minutes. Finally, the screen displayed ‘message sent’.

“Elise?”

“Yes, what
happened? There’s nothing received here.”

“No, but it has
been sent. Stay on the line until you see it. Oh shit, my flight
has been called again. Look, I don’t want any confirmation message
from you to my mobile. Just stay on the line for another couple of
minutes.”

“Ok, when will
you be back?”

“I don’t know,
I’ll call you when I arrive in Lyon airport. You don’t need to pick
me up, I’ll take a taxi. Tell the kids I’ll explain everything to
them when I get there. I really have to go, has the mail come
through?”

“No, Geraldine
says a voice will alert us to new mail, but there is no… err, wait…
yes, the inbox has a new message.”

“Right, just
look at the name of the attachment and read it back to me.”

“It says, uh,
‘meeting minutes – 1999 A10’.”

“Fantastic,
leave it alone, I’m on my way home, love you, darling, I’ve got to
run. Bye.”

“Ok, hurry
then, don’t miss the damned flight, it’s been a crazy day. You’d
better have one hell of an explanation. Love you too.”

Julien rushed
to the gate, perspiring profusely as he submitted his digital
boarding pass. He wasn’t the last passenger to do so, and this made
him feel slightly less conspicuous. Settling into his sumptuous
seat in the upper first class cabin, he began to evaluate the
options for the future.

Firstly, his
contract. He recalled the clauses which dealt with both scenarios –
the one in which he tendered his resignation, and the actual one,
instant termination by NERO. The lists of sub-clauses were
different. He concentrated on the non-disclosure and no-compete
elements. He would have to check his hard copy when he got back,
but he was pretty sure that he could prove the relevant disclosures
he’d made were predominantly or all known to observatories around
the world, ergo in the public domain. It needed to be if he was
going to join a rival organisation. Being fired was half of the
story, and would normally allow him a free choice. Breach of
information which was deemed to be classified could restrict his
opportunities, or even take him to court.