End of Days (5 page)

“Is he kidding, or what?” asked one cameraman.

“I don’t know, but it sure as heck makes one great story,” answered his soundman.

En masse, the reporters left to file their reports, the newspapers trying desperately to catch up to the coverage that was already spreading across the Internet like wildfire.

The story, even coming from a genius like Joshua Fitchett, seemed too impossible to believe, and as he had predicted, immediately the airwaves were flooded with “expert” denials.

Who knew what to believe? It sounded like a crazy statement made by a crazy man. The world ending in seventeen years, who knew? Anyway, at least the people finally got a good look at Joshua Fitchett … if that was even him.

The world ending? Never!

Less than twenty-four hours passed between the end of the Fitchett press conference and the first fire trucks appearing at the front gates of his mansion. Even before they’d made it through the security gates, it was obvious to the firefighters that the blaze was completely out of control. The entire mansion, from one end to the other, was engulfed in flames. Thick pillars of smoke rose from each of the dozens of windows and joined together in a black cloud, hanging low in the dawn light above the dwelling.

The trucks quickly took up positions around the perimeter of the building and began pumping water onto the raging fire. There was no thought of trying to enter the mansion. Fire blocked all entrances. If anybody was inside they were now incinerated. No point in risking the lives of firefighters just to bring the corpses out sooner.

The whereabouts of Joshua Fitchett were unaccounted for.

The order was given by the fire chief to contain the inferno and prevent nearby structures from being ignited. This was a simple task. Surrounded by extensive gardens and lawns, the mansion was well away from any outlying buildings, and the fire certainly presented no danger to the neighbouring homes in the distance. The mansion itself was beyond salvation.

Given the circumstances, a call had been put in to the arson squad right away. It was obvious, even to the first reporters on the scene, that this was a suspicious blaze. The members of the arson squad stood and observed the fire until it was finally subdued. Then they waited for the wreckage to cool sufficiently to allow them to begin their work.

Quickly, these “fire detectives” uncovered frightening evidence from the charred ruins. They discovered that the security and fire-control room had not been burned up but had been blown up by explosives. There were twenty-four separate places, spread throughout the mansion, where fire had been started with highly flammable chemicals—accelerants. At all entrances they found that furniture had been piled high to stop anyone from leaving. And in the master bedroom, they found the charred remains of a human being. It was incinerated not only beyond identification but almost beyond recognition as a human being. Tissue samples were scraped and stored to allow DNA testing. The dental pattern was charted for comparison with known records.

Before long, however, they discovered that no records existed of Mr. Fitchett to compare with these samples. As far as they could tell he had never been to a dentist or a doctor—at least outside the confines of his private clinic, and there were no records there. They knew that a human had died in Fitchett’s room, but they had no idea if it was, in fact, Fitchett.

The press coverage of the fire was overwhelming. There were many more reporters on the scene than fire personnel. Had Fitchett been killed, as he had predicted, to silence him?

Rumours swirled around. In the absence of definite truths the press speculated about the cause of the fire and the number of corpses recovered.

Finally, three days after the fire had started, an official announcement was made.

“The only possible conclusion is that the fire at the Fitchett mansion was set in a skilled and deliberate manner. This was not an accidental blaze but one planned to burn the dwelling to the ground.

“One body has been recovered from the ruins. The body was too damaged to support positive identification, and attempts to use dental and tissue matches have been unsuccessful. However, the body was discovered in the master bedroom, and Mr. Fitchett’s whereabouts are unknown. Therefore, we believe that the body is that of Joshua Fitchett.

“We have no leads as to the person or persons responsible. The investigation is ongoing. That concludes the statement. Thank you.”

The world press, and the population that they reported to, needed no further proof to reach their conclusions. The charred remains
did
belong to Joshua Fitchett. He had either been murdered or killed himself in some final act of insanity. Was this proof of the claims that Fitchett had made concerning the world ending, or simply proof that he was insane? Who knew, and today, who cared? They already had one fantastic story, the death of Fitchett, complete with fiery film footage of the mansion.

Sheppard and Markell came into the boardroom and looked around earnestly. They had heard about Fitchett’s “death.” They had more reason than most to question it.

“Do you see him?” Markell asked.

“No, Andrew. Maybe they want to talk to us all first before they bring him in.”

Both men took their seats around the table, eager to start the meeting. They settled in to their usual spots, at the end, side by side. After meeting weekly for seven years, everyone had settled in to a pattern, and when one of the scientists absent-mindedly took the wrong chair it seemed to unnerve the whole proceeding.

Most often, the content of the meetings made it seem as though they were discussing a purely theoretical assignment, as if none of it were real. Sheppard suspected that after Fitchett’s announcement—letting the entire world
know of the threat and the existence of their organization—and then the inferno at Fitchett’s mansion, things were about to change, and that change would be reflected in today’s meeting.

They had sat together for seven years—seven years of intense theoretical work, separated from the world, locked inside their own little bubble, a small band of scientists working together. As promised, they had been provided with all the resources they needed. They had been freed from all extraneous activities, thoughts, worries, and needs, to allow them to pursue their research.

“Everybody, please take your seats,” Dr. Hay said. “We have a great deal of information to share and discuss.”

Sheppard couldn’t help but notice how much she had aged during these past years. The weight of the world on her shoulders seemed to have worn her down. She actually looked smaller, her complexion sallow, and he wondered if she slept at all.

The rest of the people stopped talking or milling around and sat down.

“Obviously,” Dr. Hay began, “the major issue on the table today concerns the events of the past two days involving Joshua Fitchett.”

Sheppard was pleased that they were cutting to the chase. The technical issues could wait.

“As you are all aware, many rumours have surfaced over the past years that have risked exposure of our project,” she continued.

“Subsequent to these rumours surfacing, we have always
been able to use our resources to discredit, deny, or create counter-rumours to cause these reports to be discounted,” Donahue added. “Although, quite frankly, we’re not sure how successful our counter-efforts have been.”

Hay continued, “While some questions have remained at an academic and scientific level, we have been largely successful in protecting the general population from discovering the true nature of both our organization and the problems facing our planet … until now.”

“We had some forewarning that Fitchett was planning to make an announcement,” Donahue said. “And that led to our attempt to invite him to participate in the project.”

“Do you mean the botched kidnap attempt he mentioned in his press conference?” Markell asked.

Donahue shot him a dirty look. Seven years together had not caused the two of them to like each other any better. Andrew was Sheppard’s closest friend, his confidant, and the man he worked with most closely, but even he had to admit that Markell was a bit of a hothead who almost seemed to enjoy poking those in charge—people like Donahue. If it hadn’t been for his genius, his off-putting behaviour might have been less tolerated.

“Yes, those were our operatives,” Donahue admitted.

Hay picked up the story. “Unfortunately, we were not successful in preventing his announcement. Subsequently, through the use of the Internet, traditional news outlets, and the personal participation of some of the most distinguished and reputable journalists, Fitchett released his information to instant international exposure. Since then, we have been
monitoring world reaction to determine if our best option is to ignore, deflect, or provide disinformation that would discredit both the message and the messenger.”

Sheppard knew that the organization had always reacted with lightning speed when some scientist or researcher threatened to make the world aware of the truth. The person’s professional or personal life was brutally attacked, or he or she was simply “killed” and brought to work within the organization.

Both Sheppard and Markell had fully expected to see Fitchett sitting at the table the morning after his “death”; the fire and the report of human remains would have been nothing but a cover story to disguise the abduction.

“Fitchett’s dual reputation as the richest man in the world and one of the greatest minds of his generation allowed him not only the credibility but the means, and the platform, to launch his announcement successfully,” Hay explained.

“Not to mention that he had enough security in place to stop you from kidnapping him to begin with,” Markell said under his breath, but loudly enough for all to hear. He never stopped. His annoyance with all forms of authority was too strongly embedded, even when he was a vital part of the authority he was bucking.

“His announcement also included specifics, some of them verifiable. He divulged the names of the people involved in the project, including all of those sitting at this table, our location, and most important, the specific nature of the problem, including the projected date of impact,” Donahue added.

“In fact, the amount of detail he was able to provide leads us to believe that he had access to our organization, and an investigation is under way to determine if there is a spy in our midst.”

Sheppard looked around the table. Nobody there looked anything like James Bond, as far as he was concerned.

“Up to this point, world reaction has been mixed,” Donahue said.

The far wall came to life and revealed itself to be a viewing screen. It showed a large crowd and police in full riot gear dispersing tear gas and charging the protesters.

“Demonstrations and riots have been reported in over twenty countries, with the worst taking place in France, Germany, and Pakistan. The protests in the Middle East have taken a decidedly anti-American flavour, with demonstrators blaming the U.S. for the asteroid and believing that somehow it will be used against them to promote American interests.”

Sheppard could hardly believe his ears. The world was on the brink of destruction by cosmic catastrophe, but somehow the U.S. was behind it.

The screen changed. It now showed a heated discussion in what looked like the British Parliament, and then the more familiar scene of the U.S. Congress and its representatives discussing the report.

Sheppard suspected that the institute’s operations were known at the highest level of the government, but he doubted that hundreds of congressmen were part of that equation.

“World money and stock markets have reacted to the announcement,” Hay noted. “The Dow Jones Industrial
Average reported its largest three-day decline in history, by far dwarfing both the Great Depression and the economic upheaval in 2008–09 that shook the world.”

“The exception has been around high-tech, those firms dealing with bio-tech, weapons, and aerospace-related industries. The world might be ending, but in the meantime some people believe there is money to be made from investing in those industries that might offer solutions,” Donahue said.

“It appears that there is little to no probability that we will be able to fully counter the announcement. The genie is out of the bottle and we cannot put it back in. It has been decided that within the next week, we will be holding a press conference to confirm not only the existence of the asteroid and the danger to Earth, but our existence and our complete confidence that our work will save the planet.”

“Complete confidence?” Markell asked. “So … we’re going to lie to them?”

“We’re going to tell them what they
need
to know,” Hay replied.

Sheppard wasn’t sure what to think or feel or believe. Finally the world would know what they were doing, and that they were still alive. Did this mean he could contact his family? His mother had passed on three years earlier, but he still had his sister and her children. Really, though, the bigger issue was that Andrew was right—were any of them that confident they would be successful?

“We are asking that each department head produce a short report that might be incorporated into our press conference,” Dr. Hay said. “We ask that you try to be
brief, avoid scientific jargon, and provide a positive spin.”

“Even if that is a false spin?” Markell asked.

“The world will be given formal confirmation that we are on a collision course with an asteroid that might well destroy all life forms on the planet. I think a little positive news might be warranted,” Donahue said sarcastically.

Markell was about to respond when Sheppard put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, silencing him.

“Will we have an opportunity to meet with Joshua Fitchett?” Sheppard asked.

Both Hay and Donahue looked confused by his question.

“I’m sorry, Professor, I thought you were aware that he was reported to have perished in the fire,” Hay replied.

“Yes, of course, I know about the news reports, but I was assuming that was simply a cover to explain his disappearance.”