Song of the Red-Legged Birds: Chapter 20: Fallout
A need to know basis
Welcome new subscribers! Get started with Chapter 1 or learn more about this book. You can also browse the entire archive of my fiction. A new chapter will arrive each Friday, just like the latest one below!
Please like, comment, and share!
Thank you, Bill
Last week, in chapter 19, Takeda took a video call from his mother, and Chimera popped by
Chapter 20: Fallout
Christo waited for the team to slink out of the NOC Conference room as he stared at the digital map. Arthur walked in, exchanged a look with him, and nodded over his shoulder.
“Looks like they’ve been spanked,” Arthur said.
“I had to light a fire. They talking shit yet?”
“I think so. It got real quiet when I passed by.”
“Good. It’s time for them to bond over me being a prick. Hopefully, it will inspire faster work, better results. Island life has made them soft, and they forget their jobs’ importance.”
“Hell yeah, bra,” Arthur said and held out his fist. Christo bumped it.
“You have anything for me, Art? Trees, birds, intel, something from our partners around the globe?”
“Can’t say that I do. Josef in Prague reported an incident at a Center, but that turned out to be more of an equipment issue and unrelated to time bleed. Constance reported something odd from Ghana. A mass bird death occurrence, and oddly enough, the flock flew into a Center. It wasn’t the birds though, and cameras recorded the whole thing. No sign of trees, and nothing was picked up by satellite. That’s about it.”
Christo rubbed his chin.
“I did feel kind of weird not telling them what’s going on here. But as you said, not until tomorrow.” Arthur was still bothered by it. Christo eyed him.
“Thanks. We will. I need to get a handle on this thing. I’m not ready to say it’s inconsequential when you know as well as I do how little we understand. I mean, look at this….” He grabbed the keyboard on the conference table and made selections that Arthur could see on the large screen. The view changed, and the Bubble was no longer visible. The land masses on the globe all pulsed a glowing green light. Christo zoomed into Maui, and the blob of light turned into individual bright dots.
“18,756,318 people are having a birthday today. Look, take it in.” Christo stood up, went to the monitor, and swiped the map with his hand. He flew across the United States, up to Canada, across the ocean to Europe, Africa, and the Middle East, pausing here and there to zoom in on individual dots. Then he set the image to a slow pan out, and the globe rotated, throbbing green.
“All of those people, all of them, are being contacted by something today. You call it God. I call it aliens. It doesn’t matter. We’ve all gotten so used to it, so complacent. It’s just what happens on your birthday; humans easily accept the new normal. We’re starting to forget this is anything but normal. We’ve had this event for over a hundred years. Who or what did it? Why? And what terrifies me, Arthur, is what comes next. There has to be a next. You dig?” He paused, then went on. “I’m even annoyed at how I’m not personally freaking the hell out.”
Arthur looked at him with empathy. “Dude, remember when you were one of them?” he pointed down the hallway, then walked to the door and closed it. “You were calmer. I think that was because your task was clear, and you just did it. Now you have all this responsibility because you’re reporting right to the top, which must be stressful. Not to mention how you had to replace Corey. We still don’t know what happened to him… at least I don’t.” He paused, noting that Christo’s eyes widened a bit. He wondered if Christo knew what had happened to Corey but didn’t think he did. “I’m not going to lie; I was happy to turn your job down because of the pressure. What I have to do is enough for me. I’m not built to take on more, don’t let my size fool you!” he laughed.
“What’re you getting at, Arthur?”
“Sorry, you know I ramble, bra.” Arthur patted him on the back. “I’m saying you have to find a way to handle the stress and not let it eat you up. You’ve got big responsibilities, probably bigger than I know, but I don’t want to see them get to you. We’ll figure this shit out,” he waved at the screen. “Whatever it is, god, gods, goddesses, aliens, or whatever, we figure it out, and we’ll deal with it. Even if dealing with it means simply relaying what it is to the powers that be.” Arthur smiled at Christo when he finished.
Christo’s face was stoic. It pained him that he was just advised that Arthur might have to be removed. The guy actually worried about him. And he brought up Corey. Even he didn’t know what happened to Corey. Christo felt like an idiot for never having considered what Arthur alluded to. Arthur should be doing his job. They both knew it. So how the hell could Tom be so flip about offing him? It seemed plain that he was expendable as well unless he could provide results.
He wished he was back out on the water.
“Arthur, I’m damn sure they don’t make em’ like you anymore.” He put out his fist, Arthur bumped it, then leaned in for a one-shoulder, back-slap hug that Christo returned.
“Hey, Alani is making pupus tonight. Swing by. We’ll be eating and tilting a few until we falloffacoolah. You know, the usual scene, bra.” Arthur beamed as he slipped in some Hawaiian pidgin.
“Hell yeah, my friend,” Christo said, and at that moment, he knew he’d never hurt him. He’d protect Arthur.
Arthur left Christo in the conference room and headed back to his office. He passed the developers, who were in animated conversation and oozing stress. He flashed them a smile and a shaka sign. They returned it with trepidation and went back to the heated chatter. He stepped into the private bathroom outside his office and locked the door. Arthur turned the water on in the sink and splashed some on his face. Rushing in at him all at once like a wave was the knowledge of what he had just avoided, and he fell back against the wall, sliding down to the floor. He thought he'd turned Christo from ever considering offing him, but he'd have to be careful. Knowledge was power, and something had to give if he was being told not to share the new information. He traced lines along the grout of the tiled floor.
Next week in Chapter 21, “Well okay then,” We catch up with Seamus; someone else does too