The Pandora Chronicles - Book 1 (A Scifi Adventure Thriller) (15 page)

Nick nodded.

“That’s an electromagnetic signature, a stronger version of the field emitted by the artifacts.”

Nick frowned at the picture, trying to connect the dots together. “And?”

“We think this is a trail that the aliens followed.”

“Oh, for chrissakes, not this again!” Nick dropped the tablet on the table and shook his head exasperatedly. “There are no aliens. All I see is a whole load of black.”

“It’s called ‘antimatter’,” Briggs replied. “Remains of stars, planets, et cetera.” His eyes were cold and hard, as if challenging Nick to question him.

Nick cocked his head, and glanced back at the picture on the tablet. “So, these guys are, what? World destroyers?”

“We’re not sure,” Excalibur said. “Maybe the planets were simply shifted to another dimension. But the more plausible explanation is that they were destroyed.” She shrugged. “Either way, it does not look good for the future of mankind.”

Briggs took the tablet again and gently tapped it, until he found the information he was looking for.
 

“It doesn’t matter what they want,” he said. “Officially, the world doesn’t know, or care, about aliens that are hundreds of light-years away. That’s thousands—millions—of years away from Earth. Our planet would turn into an empty husk long before that time; or at least it will, if we keep up the current pace.”

Briggs took the tablet back and shut it off. “We need to worry about surviving
now
, before we can worry about surviving the future. We need clean, renewable energy, which is exactly what these artifacts have. Mankind needs an ace to save the planet, and we need it yesterday. This technology could be the key to our survival. And we know for sure that it triggers an evolution in mankind—just look at yourself.” He gave Nick a meaningful look. “That’s why you should help us, Professor Solomon. For the future of mankind.”

Stunned silence fell in the room, and for a long while all Nick could hear was his own breathing as he struggled to make sense of what Briggs had just told him.

“Good pitch,” he finally said.

“Thank you,” the director replied. “I meant it.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight.” Nick rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked the large black man sitting in front of him in the eyes. “You think that a bunch of planet-munching aliens have our planet on their menu, and somehow, you wanna use me—who you think is some sort of super-genius—to help a Spanish millionaire megalomaniac find a fictional city, in hopes that an ancient, whack-job secret society hid an alien device in there. And that same device is the key save our planet, both the Greenpeace and Silver Surfer kind of way.”
 

Nick shook his head. “How long has it been since your last psychological evaluation, Director?”

Briggs gave him a smile that reminded Nick of a great white shark. “I assure you, Mr. Solomon, I am quite sane,” he replied. “Although, admittedly, some degree of mental flexibility is required for this job.”

Nick scoffed at him. “Is that what they’re calling it now? Mental flexibility, my ass.”

Excalibur drummed her fingers impatiently on the table. “Let’s stop this song and dance, shall we?” she said, glaring at Nick. “Both you and I know you’re going to take this job. For one thing, you don’t really have a choice. But at the end of the day, you are going to do what we’re asking of you because you want the thrill of the adventure, and no amount of college shags and tequila shots are going to give that.”

Nick started at her, speechless, until he turned towards Briggs and said, “I don’t like that she’s in my head. Is she allowed to do that?”

“Yup,” Briggs casually replied.

Nick shook his head and sighed. “Fine. You’re right, I’ll take it.” He yawned and stretched his arms, trying to act as casual as he could. “Just so you know, I still don’t see a happy ending to this.”

Briggs shot him a grin. “Don’t worry. They may have starships and better tech, but we got a few tricks up our sleeve, too.”

“I’m scared to even ask what they are,” Nick said.

The director smiled. “Then, you are a genius after all. Now, time to go play nice with the crazy white guy.”

Chapter 22

“Mister Solomon!”

Astrid’s voice echoed over the Ponte Degli Scalzi, in Venice, Italy. The constantly crowded tourist site was a never-ending chorus of voices, snapping cameras and small handheld fans buzzing against the Mediterranean heat, so having one overly dressed Spaniard and yelling out was really not an issue. Especially when in Italy, where everyone seemed to only know how to communicate at a high decibel level.

Still, Nick winced as Astrid yelled his name over the Ponte.
 

“It’s Professor Solomon,” he muttered half-heartedly, knowing he might as well have been trying to talk to the rack of cheap plastic Venusian masks on the vendor’s stall nearby.

Astrid came over, flanked by two bodyguards, and hugged Nick. “I am so glad that you changed your mind. Again,” he said, beaming widely. “For a scholar, you seem to be quite unsure of where you stand.”

Nick smiled, resisting the urge to punch the millionaire in the nose. Once again he thought of where he should have been by now had he not been dragged on this stupid mission: club, concert, after-party, then, hopefully, nestled between some groupie’s legs. And maybe if he had a bit too much Jager, he’d pass out next to said woman.
 

Or women. He wasn’t picky.

But instead, Nick had been forced to travel across the globe, while blackmailed into working with this jackass.

“There were extenuating circumstances,” he said.

Astrid leaned closer. “The American government?”

“They held me in a room and asked me to tell them all I told you,” Nick said.

“And did you?”

“What could I tell them, Astrid?” Nick replied with a raised eyebrow. “That you have a couple of coins and a yellowed piece of parchment that may or may not lead to fiction city of gold?”

Astrid smiled innocently. “Well, when you put it like that, it does sound silly.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“So, why are you here, then?”

The corners of Nick’s mouth bent into a rebellious smile. “Because they told me to stay out of it,” he said. “That makes me think there’s something real going on here. And as we both know, I don’t do well with authority.”

Astrid chuckled. “I love it when defiance works in my favor.” He held out a hand, inviting Nick into a limo that hadn’t been there a few seconds ago. “This way, please.”

Astrid dropped Nick off at the marina, one hour’s drive away from the Ponte, and instructed him to enter the only boathouse there. Before Nick could ask anything, Astrid and his ostentatious limo were already driving off, leaving Nick with no idea what was expected of him.
 

He growled and made his way to the vessel. He immediately noticed the boathouse was not adequate for open waters. Most likely they were going to relocate to a different marina, far from tourist eyes.

The group of four people inside the boathouse looked like the cast from a heist movie. The first guy Nick saw had thick glasses and a plaid shirt, and looked just about as interesting as a cardboard box.
 

Another was perhaps fifty years old, and Nick thought he looked a lot like Jeremy Irons, if Jeremy Irons had never visited the gym a day in his life.
 

The remaining pair was as unique a couple as they come. The woman looked like a Roman goddess and had a figure that would put any sex symbol or super-model to shame. Long, flowing, dark hair, olive skin, and a pair of chocolate-brown eyes that made Nick’s heart skip a beat. Her curvaceous body was enough to make every man, and certain women, drool. Nick half-expected to see a crowd of lustful people assembling outside the boathouse, hoping to catch a glimpse of this wondrous specimen of the female beauty.

She was sitting next to an immaculate man with chiseled features and a body that belonged on a gay porn set. For a moment, Nick had forgotten about her and was about to start questioning his sexuality. The couple were snuggled together on a couch, pressing against each other as if they could barely control the urge to jump each others’ bones.

Nick was rudely snapped out of his daze by Astrid, who’s face suddenly appeared on the laptop on the coffee table. Everyone snapped at attention, which told Nick that none of them were given too much information as to what they were supposed to do in Venice.

“Ladies and gentlemen. I am glad you could all make it,” Astrid said. “Before we embark on our mission, let us get some introductions over with. For the duration of our mission we will be using code-names and numerical designation for each member, or unit.”

Astrid cleared his throat.

“The lovely couple over there,” he said, motioning to the female supermodel and Greek god statue, “will be acting as unit number one. Codename: Distraction.”

Astrid pointed at Nick. “Our young friend over there is unit number two. Codename: Professor.”

Oh, so now I’m the professor
, Nick thought with an internal smile.

“The gentleman over there,” Astrid continued, pointing at the Jeremy Irons lookalike, “is number three. Codename: Locksmith.”

“And finally-” Astrid pointed at the nerdy kid with the pimples, glasses and plaid shirt, “-is number four. Codename: Circuits.”

“And what shall we call you?” Locksmith asked.

Nick smiled when he heard the man’s thick Australian accent.
This is starting to look like a bad heist movie
, he thought.

Astrid’s smile never faded, but Nick caught a subtle eye twitch. “You may call me Boss,” Astrid replied dryly.
 

Circuits giggled, earning him a dirty look from Locksmith.

“Now, if there are no more concerns,” Astrid said, “let us get down to business. The item we seek is currently located in the private exhibition hall of a certain Guillermo Del Saccho, a local politician with strong influences. He fancies himself something of a socialite, often throwing fancy masked balls in Venusian tradition. Tonight, he is hosting one such event. You are all to infiltrate the party as guests, with the exception of Circuits. Number One will mingle and be the center of attention. Meanwhile, Number Two and Three are to sneak inside the hall. Once inside, Locksmith is to act his namesake and enable Professor to access the item in question. Professor will be in charge of handling and delivering the item back to the boat, and then delivering it to me.”

“Wait, wait.” It was the attractive guy that spoke this time. “Why does he get to handle the item?" he asked with a thick Italian accent, and pointing at Nick. “Why do we have to trust him?”

Astrid frowned at him through the screen. “Because Professor is the only one who has yet to serve a prison sentence for scamming, burglary, and internet fraud,” he replied as he looked at the couple, Locksmith and Circuits respectively.

Nick looked at the rest of the group with a new perception. The old man fit the profile of a textbook burglar, while Circuits looked like someone who gets his jollies by hacking banks and getting new toys. That sad thing was, he probably did it to impress some girl that was way out of his league.

“Any more questions?” Astrid asked.

There was something else on Nick’s mind, and he decided to ask.

“Yeah,” he said, speaking for the first time since arriving on the boathouse. “Why aren’t you telling us all this face to face? Why the video conference?”

“Because I am currently on a plane to my dear
Espana (Spain)
,” Astrid replied. “I just couldn’t bear to stay in Italy any longer, with its loud people and exuberance.”
 

Loud people and exuberance—talk about hypocrisy
, Nick thought. The Spaniard had been the loudest person on the Ponte.

No, there had to be another reason. Astrid was using them as scapegoats, just in case it all went south.

“I hope you’re not planning some trick,” Nick said darkly.

“Oh, I assure you, my dear Professor, there is no foul play here. Now, good luck.” Astrid waved and the screen went blank.

The beautiful woman shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “This looks to be a simple mission,” she said in an equally thick Italian accent, matching her partner’s. “In and out, quick and dirty.”

“Just the way you like it,” her partner muttered with a perverted grin.
 

Nick resisted the temptation to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, in and out,” Locksmith echoed. “Let’s hope you don’t screw us over, Professor.”
 

Nick and Locksmith engaged in a glaring contest, and before Nick could reply in kind, the woman chimed in again.

“I am sure a handsome, good boy like him will not screw us.” She batted her eyelids seductively. “Or at least, if he does screw us, I hope it will be in a pleasant way.”

Nick shot a glance at her partner, who simply shrugged.

Locksmith scoffed at all of them. “Best we prepare,” he said, getting up and wandering into one of the cabins.
 

Circuits disappeared into a another cabin without saying a word and Nick got up, not wanting to be left alone with the Italian couple. The woman managed to slide her arm into Nick’s.