The Autumn Aircraft: Avery's Recruits (4 page)

              “Are you fucking serious?” she said.

              “You,” Alan said, pointing at her as he did his best to straighten up.  “Are going to want to put out that cigarette.  Your days of smoking are done.”

              “Says who?  What the fuck are you talking about?”

              “It has to do with A.A. regulations.  We’ll get more into it later.  Now, tell me something.  What is it that you are planning to do with this spaceship?  When do you plan for it to be completed and off the ground and what do you expect to be able to accomplish with it?”

              “We hope to get it into space and survive hopefully twenty to thirty years.”

              “How many people do you hope to be able to take with you?”

              “If everything works out, about ninety-seven.”

              “That’s the year this ship seems best for,” Danny said, and chuckled.  “Ninety-Seven.”

              Bell furrowed her brow and let out a humorless chuckle.  She took another drag of her cigarette, despite what Alan had said, looked over her shoulder at the construction and the body of water beyond it.

              “What are you using for fuel,” Alan asked.  “How much do you have?”

              “Well…” she said, scratching the back of her head.  “This is a trial and error kind of process.  We’re using gas though.  We—”

              “Shit.  Not even nuclear?”

“We don’t have access.  We—”

“Listen,” Alan said.  “If you even made it into space with whatever you hope this thing will be, the life that you guys would live when you made it out there would be something that none of you would want to deal with, much less be able to.  You’d be better off dead, by the looks of it.  You’re not thinking of all the negatives.  Imagine being claustrophobic.  Tempers flaring up because of lack of decent food.  Something on the ship malfunctions and being ill-equipped to fix it in those kind of conditions.  Plus, you don’t think you’re going to beat the world superpowers with that, do you?  They’d sooner shoot you down from the sky than to let you embarrass them, which you wouldn’t get close to doing.  And you get no second chances with this.  When the ten years are up, they are up, Bell.  Gone.  Finished. 
Kaput
.”

  For the moment, it seemed Bell had nothing to say.

“And yeah, I know your vessel is in the early stages.  But still, I see where this is headed.”  He pointed toward the people of the vessel.  “Look, is this…is
that
your crew?”

              She glanced over her shoulder at everyone that was working and put her attention back on Alan.  She shook her head.

              “It’s not
my
crew,” she said.  “It’s headed by someone else.”

              “But you work for that person, right?  And you have influence with everyone?”

              “Yeah, I have influence.”

              “Okay, well, I want to propose something to you,” Alan said, taking a step forward so he  only stood a foot away from her.  He had to suppress the urge to cough as the smell of chemicals grew thicker.  “And if you like what I propose—which I think you’d have to be insane not to—I want to get the main guy here to allow a sit-down.”

              “What Stephen King would call a ‘palaver’,” Danny said.

              Bell didn’t seem to give a yes or no, only took a drag of her cigarette, puffed out another thick stream of smoke, and looked at the two boys coolly, her tied-back, bushy brown hair unfazed as a breeze blew past.

              “What do you have to say?” she said after a few seconds of silence.  Behind her the sound of a heavy duty, electric saw started up.

5

             
“All right, Mr. Alan Desai,” said a man that had probably just broken thirty years old or was on the verge.  He extended his hand, and they shook, each with a firm grip.  “What is it that you want to tell us?”

              It was quiet now.  Alan, Danny, and Bell stood by the edge of the lake, facing a crew of twenty five people, the man introduced as Arnold standing out in front.  He wore a yellow T-shirt with dark patches of oil all over, a pair of oil-stained jeans, and had a large build.  Everyone behind him looked small by comparison.  Younger too.  Some still had their head gear on, tilted up on top of their skulls so their faces could be seen.

              “All right,” Alan said slowly, making his words loud and clear.  “You guys are obviously building a spaceship.”  It was a perfect night.  Slightly off to his right, just beyond the trees, was the vessel Arnold and his crew had been working on.

              “Wow, must’ve been hard for you to figure that shit out,” said some girl near the back of the crew. 

              Alan only smiled at that.  “You’re going to want to be nice to me, I assure you.  If not, you may spend the next ten years with a gun to your head, wondering how you could’ve fucked up the opportunity of a lifetime.”

              “And what’s this opportunity?” Arnold said, looking tired, if not on the verge of irritable.  “What’s this opportunity that’s supposedly better than the one that
I
offer?  What is this thing that’s brought you all the way out here and is keeping us from our work?”

              “Have you guys heard of Avery Johnston?” Alan asked.  In the moonlight, Alan was able to see clear looks of recognition appear on a number of faces.

              “Guy disturbing the peace, right?” said a young, black boy standing a few feet behind Arnold.

              “No,” Danny said.  “Avery Johnston’s the motherfucker who’s going to save a million lives.  And you may not be saying his graces now, but give it enough time.  You will.  Whatever you think you’re doing, he’s already a million paces ahead and growing.  And here’s the thing, fellas, the real work hasn’t even started yet.”

              Arnold’s eyes widened briefly, and for a moment—just a moment—he looked as if his interest may have been piqued.  But when his expression returned to what it had been it returned all the way, as it had been when he first brought his people near the lake, it was tired and on the verge of irritable.

              “One million people, huh?” he said and chuckled.  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and glanced briefly at Bell (
seriously, this guy
) then back at Alan.

              “Construction of a spaceship that will take us to another planet and provide considerably better living conditions than your current project seems destined to provide.  This isn’t to insult what you are doing, Arnold.  What you are doing is commendable, it really is.  And I know you only mean to do good.  No one wants to die.  But what Avery Johnston is doing—what
we
are doing—can save one million lives and get us to the nearest habitable planet within six months of take-off.  This isn’t science-fiction, ladies and gentlemen, no, what this is, is a real chance at survival.”

              “But no one here really knows who Avery Johnston is,” Arnold said.  “From what we see, he’s just a boy making trouble.”

              “Yeah, that’s what they want you to think,” Alan said.  “The government.  All these asshole corporate people pulling the strings so anchors on local and cable news can skew the message to their favor.  Go ahead and just dismiss him as a dangerous nuisance, and everything he says as just the ramblings of some psych ward patient who forgot to take his meds.  Well, trust me, Arnold, there’s a lot more to this guy than that.  And that’s not something you want to learn the hard way.  No threat, just hard truth.  We’re gone after tonight.”

              Arnold kept his eyes on Alan’s, saying nothing.  His hands remained in his pockets.

              Alan grinned and continued.  “The project is going to take damn near a decade for us to complete but I assure you, if we make it to the end point alive and with the ship intact, that it will take off and that we will be off this rock before that last, cataclysmic comet hits.  And where we’re going to be building will be safe from all the comets that will hit Earth in the meantime, I’m talking a place that no government group can fuck with.  What we deal in, Arnold, unlike you, and your crew, is
absolution.
”

              Arnold chuckled and fixed his small eyes on Bell.  For what seemed an eternity, he only looked at her.  “Really?  You have me bring everyone over here so this guy could spout off a bunch of nonsense. 
Really, Bell
?”

              “I believe what he’s saying.”

              “But has he given you proof?” Arnold asked and cackled.  “Anything that lets you know that he’s not some random druggie off the street who wants to lure you into some dark alley and rape you.”

              “As I see it, that’s his risk, not mine,” Bell said darkly.

              Arnold waved one large, dismissive hand.  “Whatever.  You seem like the kind of person that still believes in Santa Claus.”

              “Hell, if he wanted to do that, don’t you think he would’ve already?  Fuck, Arnold, get your mind out the gutter.”  She sighed.  “Besides, he promised me proof before we start anything.  But as he said…” She looked at Alan.

              “I want to hear you say ‘yes’ first,” Alan said.  “You say yes, that you’ll join our cause, and I’ll give you proof that we’re not some kooks before we leave.”  Alan raised his eyebrows.  “If we were full of shit, it wouldn’t make sense to offer proof, now would it.  So what do you say?  Sound good?”

              Arnold pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped at his lower face, and then commenced to wiping his hands.  This was a slow, tedious process, almost as if it was merely meant to irk Alan.  Finally, when the cloth was returned to his pocket, Arnold shook his head, looked around at the rest of his crew, and then back at Alan, chuckling.  “You know what, it sounds like you can take your friend, Bell, —that’s right Bell, you too, because you’re done here—take her and get the fuck off this site.  You have nuts for a girl, I’ll tell you.  You just bring a couple of strangers along because they agree with what you’re saying.  What did they give you in return even? 
Nothing,
apparently.  Just some fabrication.  What the fuck is wrong with you?”

              “Listen,” Alan said. “We’ll go. Because if I can’t get your commitment before showing you the proof, then it’s really not worth getting your commitment at all.  I need to know that you’re open enough to believe in something that could do as I describe, before I show you. It’s my requirement, you can take it or leave it, but if you leave it, you’ll be fucked.  It won’t be my issue anymore. And your friend, Bell—the team member you just fired—will know before the night’s out, the proof.” Alan’s smile was broad, almost taunting.  “And you’ll know something’s up when she doesn’t return to try to work for you, when you can’t even get her to return your fucking phone calls.  And you
will
call, asshole, because you’ll have a feeling, just the tiniest feeling inside, that you missed out on something big, something that would have saved the life of you and your whole fucking crew.

  “And when the ten years are almost up, it’s going to be the name of our fucking cause that you hear about on every news station you turn to.  You won’t even be able to escape the name. What do you think Fox News, CNN, and MSNBC are going to be talking about when we’re nearing the last days, huh?  It’s going to be a fucking war they’re talking about.  I’m talking about survival, Arnold. Who is doing what and has the best chance of saving the most people?  We have the guarantee. You think Avery’s just a fucking nuisance today, but before it’s all said and done, he’s going to be the one people talk about the most.  The government, the people, and everyone will be trying to sabotage him, help him, get on their knees to him, worship him,
kill
him.  He’ll be the name on everyone’s hearts and minds, and in the end…he’ll be the only name that matters.   By then you’ll be willing to cut off a fucking limb just to have a minute with him, you ignorant piece of shi—”

Arnold cocked back and lunged forward to throw a punch but was held back by two of his team members.

“Get the fuck out of here, all of you,”
he screamed, white bits of spittle flying from his mouth. 
“You’re fired Bell!  And you’ll be the one crawling back to me in a day, because you fucked up the one thing that could’ve saved your worthless life!”

Bell said nothing, only looked down uncertainly.  Danny put an arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t worry,” he said into her ear.  “Wait until you see the proof.  You’ll see.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Alan said, and the three of them turned and headed back toward the trees.

“You’re in a fantasy, Bell,”
Arnold continued to scream. 
“You’re in a fantasy if you think that this is going to go anywhere.” 
Arnold took a couple of deep breaths, they were loud and ragged.  His crew was still holding him back. 
“You know how long I’ve been working on this and you bring him over here because he makes up some LIE!  BITCH!”

“Jesus Christ,” Alan said, looking over his shoulder as they passed the beginnings of the ship.  “Dude must have been in love with you, Bell.”