“We could have you locked up for treason,” the scientist said, leaning back in his chair. “And interference with an official investigation.”
“No one’s locking anyone up,” the general said. “Fine, fine. I approve this plan. You have the White House’s approval.”
“The NSA will also back you up,” the man in the suit said as he yawned. “We have half a dozen people’s names on our list already. Pro gamers who are probably just waiting for the opportunity for an interview.”
“Well, I oppose this mission entirely,” the scientist said, “but I must defer to my comrades. NASA will support you.”
“What can NASA do?” Van asked. This drew a blank stare from the scientist.
“Sir, we are the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. We have the right to discuss and investigate any extraterrestrial encounters.”
“Oh right, right. I guess that makes sense,” Van said, wondering if he’d have a chance to meet a real astronaut.
“Good. Then we’re greenlighting this project. What was it you called it again?” asked the general.
Neil sighed. “Operation Flaming Tortoise, sir.”
“Guess who picked that name?” Van proudly asked, pointing to himself.
“Very well, Operation Flaming Tortoise is a go,” the general said with a smirk. “We’ll get your base of operations set up in a few weeks.”
“I want my people inspecting every inch of those pods,” the NASA scientist said as he stood up. “And you need a full psyche evaluation before you can get back in them.”
“Fine, whatever,” Sang said. “I’ll do whatever you guys want; just get me back in that game.”
Neil grinned at O’Hara, as everyone stood up to discuss some immediate logistics before breaking up. Van glanced at the schematics for the command center. He felt his heart swelling with pride as he realized that, all his life, he had wanted to be a professional gamer, and now, in a weird way, he was. He would have the chance to use his talents, skills, and abilities to do something that truly mattered. His official job title would be Extraterrestrial Investigator, and that was a glorious thing.
Sang slowly opened her eyes to see the bright blue sky as the door to her cab opened up.
“We’re here, ma’am,” the cabbie said as he pulled her luggage out and offered her his hand. She took it and pulled herself out of the car. She had been sleeping on her way to the airport and her dreams were growing more complex. They had been confusing and terrifying at first, but she’d begun to realize that a message was starting to form. Every few nights, she’d be able to get some kind of new word or concept, but it was a slow process. Whatever the Others had done to her brain, the language wasn’t easily translated to the human mind.
The psychotherapy had gone about as well as she’d expected. They’d done a bunch of tests, asked her several questions about her mood, and locked her in a sensory deprivation chamber for a few hours to see what would happen, but there hadn’t been much to it all. She’d shown no evidences of being off her rocker. They’d signed a release and cleared her to go into the pods.
The team would take some time before they were ready, however, and so she’d made a push to get some vacation time. As soon as the last presentation on her health had been over and the brass had cleared the final plan to go back into the game, she’d been cleared to buy a ticket to Asturias and told that she had four weeks of leave.
Sang smiled as she felt the warm air around her. Her flight would be leaving in a few hours and she couldn’t wait to fly halfway across the world and enjoy some peace and quiet. Sitting by the beach with a good book and no one around her sounded incredible. As much as she enjoyed Van’s company, the man never shut up. It was as if he had some kind of fear of silence and would do everything in his power to make noise. On their long journeys, together, he’d sometimes told the exact same story over and over, just because he was interested in talking about it. It had driven her crazy, but this next month was going to be good for her. It was going to be just her, the beaches of Asturias, and a beautiful vacation home they had set her up with. If she was lucky, she wouldn’t even have to see another person for at least a week.
As she walked up to the airport, luggage in hand and big floppy hat on her head, she noticed that Van was waiting for her.
“Oh, uh, Van!” Sang said. “I didn’t think I’d see you here!”
“Of course!” Van said as he grabbed her luggage and threw it onto a baggage cart. “You would not believe how excited I was when I was given tickets to fly way out to Spain! I’ve never even heard of Asturias before! But hey, a free vacation—who am I to judge?”
“Oh... oh,” Sang said as she realized that the luggage sitting on the cart all belonged to him.
“Oh, yeah, by the way, Neil asked me to give you this!” he said as he shoved an envelope towards her. Sang took it and opened it gingerly.
Dear Sang, the note read. This is what you get for pulling a gun on me. Have a nice, quiet four weeks. Love, Neil.
Sang sighed deeply as Van turned to tell her all about the various birds he had seen on the car ride to the airport. She glanced back at the cab. This was going to be a long four weeks.
Epilogue
Kenwar walked through the dark chambers of the temple, his footsteps echoing with each step. He was nervous. There had been some rumblings among the pro gamer community about the death of the Ward of Verrata. This wasn’t good news. Not good at all. A series of extremely strict policies had come down the pipeline not even a day ago. All of them were warning players about discussing anything Draco-related, going so far as to offer advice on what to tell police or reporters if questioned in the real world. He hadn’t seen this kind of thing in the past, and he certainly didn’t like the fact that the Council had summoned him so suddenly now. He spoke with them very rarely, but had generally been given more notice; today seemed wholly different.
He could smell the disgustingly musty stink of the underground mushrooms as he descended lower into the temple. He nervously checked the time; it was 2 hours past Sleep Time’s beginning. He hated being in the game during Sleep Time. Finally, he reached the room where the Council was waiting for him. He took a deep breath and pulled his cloak off from his head.
“Now or never,” Kenwar muttered to himself as he strolled into the room. It was dark. Too dark for him to see anything but silhouettes of figures in the background. They moved back and forth, and he felt an uneasiness run through him. Never had he seen so many members of the Council before. Not at once.
“Manhunter Kenwar,” boomed a voice. “Step forth.”
Kenwar did as he was told, stepping out into the small beam of light that was cast upon the center of the room. He knelt down.
“You may arise,” said an elder, crackly voice. “We have called you forth because your services are required.”
“As you wish, my lords,” Kenwar said, keeping his head bowed. His heart was through the roof right now; if they were upset with him in any capacity, if he’d offended them, they were liable to kill him. He knew that all too well. The fate of the last Manhunter had never been officially disclosed, but everyone knew the truth. He’d mouthed off and then been silenced for good.
“We have a great problem in our midst,” said the elder, “for a Messenger lies dead.”
“How can that be?” Kenwar gasped.
“He was a fool!” croaked another elder with a deeper, almost froglike voice. “He played his hand too quickly and was cocky. He made the mistake of underestimating humans.”
“You speak as if Messengers controlled themselves!” shrieked one of the others in the darkness. She had a feminine voice, but it was bridled with rage. “The elder who controlled the Messenger was toying with the humans. We will find the one whose mind directed that Messenger and they will be punished!”