Terry Neale - Jo-el

“I thought the San Andreas fault was the worst place for earthquakes and that’s just off the coast here,” I queried.

“True, but the two plates are sliding past each other, so our stations are still intact.”

“So, what else happened?”

“War, or the ramifications of war, specifically testing the atomic and hydrogen bombs. That took out two stations.”

“So am I safe?”

“I’ll do the best I can,” she smiled. I felt my palms sweating, but what could I do? I guess the world’s greatest sushi was off my bucket list.

“Just so you are aware, there’s no coverage in the middle section of the Pacific and Atlantic oceans and very little in the Indian Ocean.”

“How many stations are there on Cirion.” Worth a comparison.

“More than sixteen thousand.”

“And I’ve only got nineteen?”

“There’s three billion people on Cirion, the network here is yours alone. Their ratio is one station for almost two hundred thousand people, you’re way ahead.”

I guess. Three billion people on Cirion, that appeared low….

“There’s a problem, Jo-el?” Sally interrupted my train of thought.

I turned to look at her, waiting for the bad news, she was always easy on the eye to look at. How could such a beautiful woman have a problem?

“What?”

“The FBI have confiscated the anoraks from the kids you rescued on the mountain. They want to test them for fingerprints, you know, where you held them.”

Fingerprints. Damn, I’d missed that. “Are there any?”

“Maybe. They might have smudged, but I won’t know till they test them.”

“Can’t you wipe them away?”

“No. I can destroy the anoraks; you know set them alight or just slice them to bits. That may be a little suspicious.”

Bloody right. “Where are they,” I said. “Right now?”

“They’re in plastic bags in the back of a car heading for the LA field office.”

“So what else can we do?”

“Once they are at the field office, you could bounce in there and steal them or just wipe them clean.”

I looked at her with dubiety, this was moving into the espionage arena. “I’m not James Bond.”

“You look like him, a bit,” she grinned.

“Very funny.”

“I know my prints are on file with the TSA, will they come up?”

“Probably. That’s part of Homeland Security. The FBI and HS cooperate all the time.”

“But there might not be any prints.”

“Bit of a risk. If they find any, I could delete the computer file.”

“Sounds promising. How would you do that?”

“Hack their system, pretty easy really.”

“You can hack the FBI computer system?”

“Of course.” I just watch over the shoulder of whoever for the password, piece of cake.”

“Won’t they know who logged in and deleted the file.”

She thought about that for a moment. “And you care?”

“That person will get their ass kicked, probably lose their job.”

“Oh dear!” Very cynical.

“You’re not nice, sometimes.” Her mouth formed a wicked grin.

“Well, whatever, we can’t let them find my prints. So keep me informed and we’ll make a decision based on circumstances at the time. What can we do about fingerprints in the future?”

“I could burn your prints off,” that grin again.

“No thanks. Gloves, I don’t leave the house without them, not as Jo-el. Remind me.”

“You figured that out all yourself.” The woman was in a devilish mood. “There’s another problem. You won’t like this.”

“Now what?”

“Turn the TV on, CNN,” she said.

I did what she asked and a solemn looking male news-broadcaster was speaking. A sixteen-year-old girl, in Buffalo, New York had jumped into the water near Niagara Falls clutching a picture of me. She had been washed over the falls and drowned. Her body had been picked up down river. They showed a picture of her face, so innocent, so young. It was horrible. I bent my head down and covered my face with my hands and began to sob. I’d caused the death of a child.

After a while I looked up and screamed at Sally. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me sooner; I could have saved her? How did they know she had a picture of me, it would have floated away?”

“Someone saw it before she jumped. Anyway, think about it, if you saved her, how many more would there be? Every stupid young girl with a crush would be throwing themselves into rivers and off bridges and God knows what else just so they could be in your arms for two minutes. You wouldn’t be able to save them all. It’s sad but hopefully her death will send a message that you’re not going to rescue them.”

She was right, but I hated it. “You knew, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Fuck! I thought I made the decisions?”

“You do, but….” She tailed off. “I’m sorry, but you have to understand a lot of people are going to die.”

“That’s seventy years from now, that girl would be in her eighties. Tell me if there are any more kids with the same idea, alright!” I was mad.

“Okay.”

I went to the kitchen for more coffee and to be honest to get away from Sally. That was the first time I felt like that. When I returned to the family room, Sally was gone. Though I knew she was around, just not in holographic form. I turned the TV back on and watched CNN. The Chinese government had called the American ambassador for explanation about the man with wings. What made them think he was American? I’d tried to have a vanilla accent. Indiscernible to any area. Damn, I needed Sally again.

“Sally, when I’m Jo-el, where do you think my accent is from?”

She appeared in her chair, “Nowhere definitive. Sort of a cross between a European brought up in the US or vice versa.”

“Did the FBI ask those kids about the accent?”

“Sure, they said that you didn’t say much and that the wind on the mountain made it impossible to figure out where you were from. Gabby thought you were English maybe with American parents.”

“So basically they have no idea. Good.”

I went back to watching CNN, but as before they just went around and around, getting nowhere. I turned it off.

“Why do the Chinese think I’m American?” I asked, Sally.

“Process of elimination. They think that America is the only country who could make a man with wings.”

“They think I was manufactured? That’s funny.”

“If you listen long enough you’ll here every crazy explanation you could think up.”

I guess that was to be expected. “What about the Europeans?”

“The French think you’re French,” she laughed. “You spoke French.”

“I spoke Chinese.”

“Actually, Shanghainese.”

“Whatever! But they think I’m American.”

“Just the government, the people you rescued have no idea.”

We’re not getting anywhere like this. What else is the FBI doing?

“The National Security Advisor has asked the CIA and the FBI to put a joint task force together and find out who you are?”

“Have they met yet?”

“No, they’re still arguing who should chair the task force and who should be on it.”

“That’s a surprise. Let me know when they meet. Can I eavesdrop?”

“Sure, we can watch.”

I was quiet for a while pondering the events that I’d set in motion and trying to figure out my next action. No more rescues, no point, I couldn’t rescue everyone in difficulty. I had to think of the big picture. I had to somehow convince the major world powers that a global catastrophe was imminent and they had to allocate the money for space travel. I made a mental note to ask Sally about the new planets but I just didn’t want to muddle my brain with any more stuff right now. The whole thing was completely unsettling. I was living it, but it seemed so crazy, that even in my situation and knowing what I did, it just didn’t fit with the real world. How on earth was I going to persuade the right people to take me seriously? It was all a bit mind-numbing. Another dramatic event was required that would assist the various governments, to win them over with actions that would solve some major problem in the world and save them money. Then I’d have an argument to fund at least some research into the storm and the spaceships. There was time, that was for sure, that was a good thing. So, I began considering ideas that would benefit the USA. Might as well start with the top dog.