The Mars Project, Julie Steimle [read aloud txt] 📗
- Author: Julie Steimle
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<< When will that be? >> That Alea Salvar sounded anxious. It fascinated Sicamore, as he believed strongly that this Alea Zormna was the Zormna Clendar the Bureau had been following. So much of the conversation proved it to him.
<< Until this whole rebellion business is over, >> the voice of the authority said with a grade of irritation, << I don’t want her in the middle of it. >>
Rebellion. It was key word Agent Sicamore noted down. He wondered what exactly it meant. And to what degree.
<< But what if she is supposed to be in the middle of it? What if she is the one in the prophecy? >>
Another key word—prophecy. Jotting that note down, Agent Sicamore was sure there was a connection
Yet the authority in the conversation responded with the most intriguing statement of all: << I won’t have it. I won’t see her die like her parents.—*static*—good friends of mine, and I won’t let that happen to their daughter. >>
<< But Father, what if— >>
<< Enough! You are starting to sound like Alea Arden. >> Key word. Key name, really. Alea Arden. Agent Sicamore recognized the name from Zormna’s tales about her instructors at her military school. Jeff had even mentioned him. The last year he had said Arden was an amiable guy, whom Zormna had a crush on. This was a sure connection. << —Just let me know if she does try to contact you. I have a bad feeling that things are going to get worse. >>
<< I’m signing off, then. Father, you—*static*—sure you are not wrong on this. I’d hate to be Zormna down there. She sounded so helpless. >>
The voice of the authority. << Have a little faith in her, Salvar. >> Key word. Key name. Salvar. An openly admitted friend of hers. They had their evidence. << You as well as I know she’s not completely helpless. I’m positive—*static*—down there she can’t handle. Signing off. > >
A silence.
<< I hope so. Signing off. >>
Switching the recording off, Agent Sicamore grinned to himself.
What luck, really. Agent Sicamore didn’t know how long their satellite would go unseen, but they had already gathered plenty of conversations in many Earth languages. Their only snag was that those people hardly used their alien lingo out there. Someone in the Bureau might claim their discovery a fraud because of that.
He folded up the paper file and put it back into the cabinet. Their digital file was already made. It just needed to be perfected.
A knock at the door made him look up.
“Enter,” Sicamore said.
The one at the door did. And he closed and locked the door.
Agent Sicamore eyes set on Jeff Streigle who stood there in his office, plain as day. The agent gaped for just a second. “What are you doing in here? How did you get in here?”
Jeff glanced at the door as if to see through it. “I took an elevator and walked down the hall.” He then looked to Mr. Sicamore. “Funny how you didn’t ask who I was. But I guess you know that already.”
Agent Sicamore reached for the emergency button under his desk and pressed it. Jeff peered at him seriously, yet did not move to stop him.
“Mr. James Sicamore, really, what are you trying to do?” Jeff asked.
“How,” Agent Sicamore looked up at Jeff more surprise. “How did you know my name?”
Jeff shrugged. “Not hard. It was on your credit card.”
The FBI agent flushed. Then he realized that no one was coming. A panic washed through him.
Smirking, Jeff said, “Waiting for someone?” Leaning over the desk toward him, he added, “Security maybe?” Jeff smiled. His dark eyes seemed like distant black holes at that moment. “I made sure no one would disturb us while we have our little discussion.”
Jeff sat down in the chair across from the desk.
Immediately, Agent Sicamore pulled out his drawer to look for his gun, but for the first time that day, he realized that it wasn’t there. He then looked up at his coat on the rack next to the door. He jumped up for it, but Jeff just sat there.
Lifting the gun up on one finger, the boy said, “Are you looking for this?”
James Sicamore stepped back, going white.
“You can sit. This might take a bit, but don’t count on it,” Jeff said.
“Who are you?” Agent Sicamore trembled, the periphery of his eyes taking in the exits.
Jeff smiled calmly. “I thought you knew.” Then he stuffed the gun into his pocket. Leaning forward, Jeff looked at him plainly. “I suppose we should get down to the guts. I want you to stop your presentation in Washington.”
Agent Sicamore nearly laughed. “You’re joking.”
“I wouldn’t joke about this.” Jeff then stood up. “We are talking about people’s lives—people that you don’t even know about, but you could hurt.”
Sicamore shook his head. “No. I’m preventing lives from being hurt. I won’t let your people harm us or use our world to fight your political battles.”
Jeff’s eyes narrowed. “Your secret source has you thoroughly convinced.” Looking around the room, Jeff said, “Huh. Did they tell you about the revolution? Did they tell you what side they were on?”
Agent Sicamore’s breathing went shallow, his heart racing. “The good one.”
Jeff laughed loud like he really thought it funny, though dryly so. “The good one. That’s rich. Every side calls themselves good. The Nazis had. Who? The government or the people?”
“What?” Sicamore exclaimed, his eyes flickering to the door.
Standing squarely in front of Agent Sicamore’s desk, Jeff seemed even more mysterious, dark and dangerous to the man as he spoke in a low voice. “Have you heard the old adage that says that sometimes you may find that when you get to the top of the ladder you have been climbing on, you find out that it was leaning against the wrong wall?”
Agent Sicamore paled. There was something in that which made his stomach twist. Honestly, Sicamore knew those he had been listening to were not altruistic. They had their prejudices. And their prejudices had led to the death of Zormna’s great aunt—a woman who had for decades merely minded her own business as a ‘harmless lunatic’.
“Which side?” Jeff said with a huff. “Did they say they were the High Class? Did they claim their rightful leadership? Or did they say that the last Tarrn would ruin everything? All progress?” Seeing Sicamore’s change of expression in his eyes, Jeff nodded. “They did, didn’t they?”
Glancing at the cabinet. Jeff walked over to it. “I don’t suppose these are all your files, are they? You guys do record things digitally, possibly even in the Cloud?”
Straightening up, Sicamore regained his composure. This kid was scared. That was why he was there. He had to regain control and remember that this boy was just trying to stall the inevitable.
“You can’t threaten me, nor can you stop this project. I will do everything within my power to stop you,” he said. “You will not harm the American people or our peace and way of life.”
Jeff dryly rolled his eyes.
“You think that is funny?” Agent Sicamore hissed, boldly squaring his shoulders. “Even if you shoot me, this project will go on.”
Yet Jeff merely looked at him with his usual smirk.
“I wouldn’t shoot you. Not yet anyway.” Jeff then walked away from the cabinet with a step closer to Sicamore. “The truth is, you don’t know what you are into. So I’ve come to educate you to keep you from making a big mistake.”
“Wha…what?” Sicamore pulled back.
Nodding Jeff said, “You have been misinformed.” Jeff sat on the edge of the desk. “You are your own worst enemy.”
Agent Sicamore dived toward the door, but Jeff stepped in front of it faster and pulled out the gun. Sicamore stopped then fell back.
“That’s right. You fear me. I can see that. I figure you know I can handle a gun. So, sit.” Jeff Stared down at the thirty-something man who did not move even a centimeter. “Sit!”
Agent Sicamore stumbled back into the chair behind him.
Jeff sighed wearily. “Your pig-headedness makes this so difficult. You probably get it from your parents.”
“My parents?” Sicamore murmured into a whisper, gazing wider at Jeff.
Jeff nodded, maintaining his aim on the FBI agent. “Yeah, Zelda and Matthew Sicamore.” Pausing, Jeff smiled more wickedly, “or is it really Zormna and Mareth Siik?”
James Sicamore’s face went entirely white. Actually, more green. “How?”
Jeff shrugged, gun neatly clenched with no opening to get it back. It even looked like a natural extension of Jeff’s hand. “Simple really. Who would want to kill a Tarrn? High Class would. That’s logic. I did some networking—we have great network in case you are wondering—and I found their names on file. Did you know that talking to you about Home is considered an interplanetary offence according the emigration rules?”
Sicamore swallowed.
“I can only imagine how finding out you are full blood ‘Martian’ after discovering your first extra-terrestrial could traumatize you,” Jeff said. “But believe me when I say, thousands would be harmed if you exposed our people now. And there will be thousands, if not hundreds of thousands that will be hurt. And it will be—All. Your. Fault.”
“You’re lying,” Mr. Sicamore said just above a whisper.
Jeff shook his head. “No need. The truth is scarier. Did you, when you told your parents that the so-called lunatic you were investigating said she was a Tarrn, intend for her to die?”
Agent Sicamore gasped. “No! No, I…I…I just…I didn’t know what it meant. I was just—”
“Venting? Top secret stuff to your parents?” Jeff laughed. “That’s bad enough. But you figured it out soon enough that it was serious, and real. Did they do the act themselves, or did they leak information to someone else?”
Shaking his head, Agent Sicamore swallowed. “It wasn’t them. But—”
“Why didn’t you follow up on that?” Jeff bit back angrily.
“I did! I tried! But their connections cleared out when they found out I was on their trail.” Agent Sicamore was pale, sweating as he defended himself from Jeff. “It went cold. They covered their tracks—just like your people. For all I know, they are the same.”
“They’re not the same,” Jeff replied mildly, leaning back. “I did my own investigation to make sure. The thing is,” Jeff said, “The ‘Patrol’, up until this point, has kept our presence hidden from all your agencies, to the protection of millions. If you expose them now, you will be forcing them to defend themselves.”
Feeling sick, Agent Sicamore shook his head.
Jeff whispered sagely, “You have no idea what you would be up against if you did that.”
Shaking his head more, Agent Sicamore retorted, “We have their call girl. They wouldn’t want her to get hurt.”
“Zormna?” Jeff laughed. “She’s not a call girl. She’s—”
“A princess. I know,” Sicamore broke in sharply.
Jeff stared at the agent darkly.
“Only two people in the Surface Patrol know she’s that—and they have left her to fend for herself. You don’t have the upper hand,” Jeff said. Then looking at the gun, he cocked it. “But we do.”
Agent Sicamore shook violently, closing his eyes. This would be it. He only hoped that he had done enough.
“I’d prefer that the Earth not get destroyed,” Jeff’s voice resonated over him. “Arras has the firepower to decimate the entire surface of this planet, if it had to fight for itself. They’d most likely just destroy your military, and that includes you. But I think I have come up with a better solution.”
Agent Sicamore peeked an eye open
Jeff pulled out the clip to the gun and dumped the bullets into his pocket one by one.
“You’re not—” Agent Sicamore started.
Shaking his head, Jeff said, “Don’t be so dramatic. You are going to hold off all your information on us until you can form a more educated opinion.” And adding with a mild grin, he continued, “And when the revolution is over and the rightful heir is back in her position on Arras, then we’ll open up peace negotiations. At that time you can reveal how you knew the
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