Part 2: Prequel Stories
Preface
In the build up to the release of the Mars Encounter novel J.J. Wright wrote several short stories published on the Half A Cup Of Coffee website. This release allows us to publish these stories for the first time in a single volume. They can be read as stand alone stories or in conjunction with the main novel. Most of the stories are ‘what happened first’ or the ‘scene behind the scene’. You could see them as being deleted scenes, separate from the main novel. This collection of stories works almost like a deleted scenes or sneak peaks do with TV shows and movies.
Note From the Author
In writing Mars Encounter there were certain characters and back stories that I wanted explore in more detail. The prequel stories gave me the opportunity to do so and hopefully they will give you the reader more insight in the characters and events behind the Mars Encounter novel and cannon. I hope you enjoy these stories and if you haven’t read the main novel yet then don’t forget to check it out.
This first short story is set some time before the main novel. It is almost a preface of the preface of the main story. This story focus’ on the Apollo 8 astronauts who receive a mysterious briefing before their mission to go to the other side of the moon.
This second short story is set just a few years before the main novel. The action moves to Mars where humans are living and working. This story takes place on the British base and is a conversation between two people trying to find a solution to nightmares a little girl is having. They have to find a way of treating her without letting anyone on Earth know that there are humans living on Mars.
For the third story we return to Mars where much of the action takes place through out the main novel. We are once again on the British base where they are try to decrypt some stone tablets left behind by the ancient native Martians.
The third short story is more of a deleted scene then a prequel. It follows a character called Sirus who is on the run from the government agencies that are trying to keep mans presence on Mars a secret. Here she is trying to buy a false identity so that she can keep her past life secret.
For the fourth short story the action moves back to Earth. In writing the novel Mars Encounters there were certain characters that just spoke to me. The Prequel Stories gave me an opportunity to explore some of the characters that only feature momentarily in the novel but who seemed to jump off the page when I was writing. Philips is one such character and someone who I found fascinating. His experience of the secret of Mars is quite different to that of the other characters.
The sixth and last of the Prequel Stories is very much a prequel to the main novel taking place the night before two of the main characters meet. Again it features Philips and one other character who is in the main novel.
If you enjoy these stories then don’t forget to download the main novel to read more.
The Briefing at The End of The Day
21:45 EST, November 15th 1968
Training Room, Astronaut Training Centre, Houston, Texas
A Long day was about to get even longer. The six men, military one and all, were sitting waiting for yet another briefing to start.
“I thought we were supposed to go home soon.” One of the six men spoke up. The others all just stared at him. This outburst was unusual for an astronaut. They were more than just well-disciplined fighter pilots, they were super men, chosen specifically because they could handle these long hours and endless briefings. It was six-weeks before three of the men would get the opportunity to go to where no man had ever been to before, the moon. As the launch got closer and closer they all found themselves dreaming as they looked up to the night sky and saw that brilliant white disc, almost calling to them ‘come on’.
“What is this briefing anyway?” One of the men asked. “It’s not on any of the training schedules.” He looked down at the mounds of paper each man carried around with him. Training manuals, briefing documents, schedules everything that detailed every possible aspect of their lives.
“It’s special.” A voice from the back said. “Not on the books.” The man added. He was not one of the astronauts, but a tall dark haired man. He wore the white shirt and black skinny tie which was common enough among NASA employees. The black trousers and impossibly shiny black shoes were not out of place either. The mirrored sunglasses he wore, despite being inside, were a little bit more unusual. “This briefing is for prime crew only, sorry back up you’ll have to leave.”
The six astronauts all looked at each other. This was getting stranger and stranger by the minute. They always trained together, that was the whole point of having prime and back up crews. Despite their concerns they knew not to question weird things. This whole mission was weird. It was supposed to be just another mission around the Earth’s orbit, but had been changed six months earlier to now being a lunar flight. None of the men knew why this had happened, there had been rumours of a soviet lunar rocket ready to go but nothing substantial. Once the backup crew had left the man in the white shirt was ready to talk again.
“This is a top secret briefing, for your eyes only.” The man spoke as he walked towards the front of the class room. “There is to be no note taking and no documentation regarding this briefing of any kind.” He turned to face the three vacant looking faces which were staring back at him. “Disclosure of what I’m about to tell you will cause a forfeit of your life, you understand.” The three men continued to look vacant. The day had been long enough, one of several long days they had to endure, it was possible that this man was in fact some sort of mass hallucination.
“Who are you?” One of them asked.
“That’s not important.” The man in the white shirt replied. “I represent an organisation that you have never heard of.” He faked a smile. “If anyone asks tell them I work for PR here at NASA.” He sat on the edge of the desk which was in the front of the class room. “When you travel around the dark side of the moon.” The man took a deep breath at this point, he knew that once he said what he was going to say there would be no going back. “When you travel around the dark side of the moon we have reason to believe that you may be contacted by alien life.”
“WHAT!” All three men could help but yell out. They then all started laughing in unison.
“Pete Conrad put you up to this didn’t he?” One of the men asked, assuming that this was all a joke devised by his old friend who was known for pulling jokes.
“This is no joke gentlemen.” The man in the white shirt replied. “We have reason to believe that an intelligence not of this Earth has a probe on the dark side of the moon.” He paused to let what he was saying sink in a minute. “I know it seems strange but there you have it.” The man in the white shirt gave the three men another moment. “Obviously I can’t go into any of the details but all I can say is that this has come from the very top. The guys from New Mexico are very excited about this possibility. It could just be nothing but we believe that there is a probe on the dark side of the moon put there by an intelligence not of the Earth.”
“This is starting to sound a little 2001.” One of the men spoke.
“It might seem that way.” The man in the white shirt smiled. “All we are asking is that if you do hear a message or see anything which you feel I might be interested in then please record it.” The man looked at the astronauts again. “This is top secret. You must not tell anyone. The people of Earth are not ready for this. We aren’t looking to cause wide spread panic here.” The man in the white shirt started to walk back towards the door. Before he exited he turned back to face the astronauts. “If you do see or hear anything while on the dark side then please use a coded message.”
“What do you suggest?” One of the astronauts asked sarcastically. Just before the man in the white shirt left the room he replied.
“Let there be light.”
Getting Help For A
Child
16:00 MTC, March 13 2012
Control Room, British Base, Olympus Mons, Mars
“I can’t do it.” Dr Richards felt uneasy about admitting the truth. He was a man who had prided himself on being able to achieve anything he set his mind too. This however was beyond even his skills. “We need a specialist.”
“I thought you were the specialist.” Commander Smythe replied in a stern manner, not a tone he took regularly but one that he had the mastery of whenever he needed it. “That’s what you keep telling us anyway.” Smythe looked around the control room and saw the various technicians and computer operators all smirking, hoping not to be seen. Smythe realised he had had his fun, it was time to treat the matter seriously. “What help do you need Doctor?”
“A dedicated child psychiatrist, one with some experience of sleeping disorders.” Dr Richards knew it was a big ask. Few humans made it Mars, those that did were only those few that provide exceptional skills and expertise, those few that really mattered.
“There are only twenty-six human children on the entire planet.” Smythe took a deep breath, if it was up to him then Dr Richards would get all the help he needed. But Smythe knew that there was no point putting in the request unless there was a chance of getting it fulfilled and this had none. Sometimes to be to good guy you had to pretend to be the bad guy.
“I know how many children there are.” Dr Richards snapped before trying to calm himself down. “I’ve examined them all.”
“They are not going to permit a child psychiatrist to care for the needs of only twenty-six children. It is unrealistic. Besides this problem is only effecting one girl.” Smythe thought for a moment, trying to find a compromise. “How about face time with a leading expert in this field?” Smythe thought for a moment. “A video conference call with the leading doctor in this field.”
“Can we arrange that?” Dr Richards had never heard of anyone on Mars being allowed to contact the Earth except for the Commanders of each base and the Governor but those were planned monthly discussions.
“It happens from time to time.” Smythe looked around. “When we need expert help but can’t have it brought here.” Smythe returned to looking at Dr Richards. “You can give them as much details as you need. However you may not disclose where the patient is, how her parents died or that she was the first human to be born on Mars.”
“That is every relevant fact to this case.” Richards replied, already frustrated by what he was being told.
“Other children have been born on this planet and do not suffer the same condition that poor Nina does.” Smythe replied angrily, refusing to accept that the statistical anomaly of her place of birth was the cause for her condition.
“That doesn’t mean…”
“Can you get a suitable diagnosis without revealing those pieces of information?” Smythe asked, hoping it would be enough.
“No.” Dr Richards hoped he was proving a point but knew he was conceding one.
“Then you will not be granted any Earthly assistance in this matter.” Smythe smiled, he didn’t want to be the one making this decision, Nina was precious to him as she was to everyone on Mars, but he couldn’t except the security risk. “Do what you can to help her?”
“Night terrors can be a very tricky thing. We need to find the source of them.”
“Dr, she’s living on an alien planet, both her parents died in horrific ways, I think that’s enough of a cause for night terrors, don’t you?”
“It’s more than that.” Dr Richards said as he headed towards the door, knowing that he had lost the argument. “It’s almost like its imbedded in her DNA.” His head dropped down momentarily. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” Smythe knew that was a hard admission for the doctor to make, one which showed the seriousness of the situation.
“I suppose.” Smythe started to say quietly. “I suppose we just have to wait and see if it passes on its own.” Smythe knew it wouldn’t but hoped it would. “Maybe she’ll grow out of it someday.”
“And in the meantime?” Richards asked, genuinely unsure what to do next.
“Do what you can for her I guess, and pray this condition doesn’t effect anyone else.” Smythe spoke softly before turning back to his desk and continuing with his work, hoping that the problem would one day sort itself out, knowing that if it hadn’t done by now it would be unlikely that it ever would.
Three Hours
05:00 MTC, November 19th 2015
Archaeological Research Lab, British Base, Olympus Mons, Mars
Christian knew he was in trouble. Only three hours left until he had to show his results and he didn’t have any, this is what trouble looked like. His fifteenth cup of Degi bean coffee hadn’t helped inspire him as much as he hoped it would. He looked over the stone tablets again. They seemed to convey a message from the ancient Martian race but he couldn’t figure out what that message was or even why it was so cryptic. Christian was an expert on the ancient Martians known as the Wivisan race. He was one of the few human experts in existence in fact but even he couldn’t work out the meaning of these stone tablets and that was where the problem truly lied. Christian had assured the Governor of Mars and the base commander that he would be able to solve the mystery of the stone tablets and unlock the secrets that they held. Christian knew that if he couldn’t figure out the truth then he was in trouble and would have to face the consequences. That was a thought that he didn’t want to enter his head right now. Christian put down the cup of Degi beans and picked up on of the many text books that he had laying around discarded on the desk. He studied the opened page praying for a drop of inspiration, some sort of insight that would allow him to continue past his deadline if not solve the problem entirely.
“How’s it going?” A voice can from the door way. It was that of Commander Smythe, the man in charge of the base and the man that Christian would have to report to in a little under three hours’ time.
“Making progress.” Christian replied, hoping that his enthusiastic sounding reply would be enough to convince the commander.
“Really?” Smythe replied sceptically. He walked into the lab from the door way and looked down at the piles of books and notepads which were left unorderly and in a panic. “Looks like you’re still stuck to me.”
“It’s slow work.” Christian emphasised.
“I know it can be slow work but you are expected to give a full report in just three hours.” Smythe was concerned, he knew what would happen if Christian couldn’t complete his task on time. “Have you got enough to go on for now?” Smythe was looking for any ray of hope.
“No.” Christian took a deep breath in. “Nothing new really.”
“Well.” Smythe spoke heading for the doorway. “Maybe Governor Mead will be in a good mood, or at least a forgiving one.”
“What will happen if he isn’t?” Christian asked cautiously, hoping that he wouldn’t get the answer that he was expecting.
“Are you any closer to unlocking any of these secrets?” Smythe asked whilst examining the tablets hoping that his own experience might uncover something.
“Not yet.” Christian answered, noting that his own question had gone unanswered.
“Well then.” Smythe said looking at Christian. “It’s a shame that this unit will be closed down, I quite liked having an Archaeological Unit back on the base, it had been a while.” Smythe walked over to the Degi coffee pot in the corner of the room. “May I?” Smythe asked, he didn’t wait for an answer and poured himself a cup.
“What will happen to me sir?” Christian asked.
“Well most of the other bases have archaeological units.” Smythe said. “I’ll put in a request for one of them to take you.” Smythe sipped his Degi. “Mmmm that is delicious.”
“Are they likely to accept?”
“Well the Americans are fully manned at the moment, unlikely to take yo
u I’m afraid.” Smythe thought for a moment. “They really would have been the most suitable. Of course they weren’t too pleased when you managed to get those tablets brought here instead of them having a go at them.” Smythe continue to think on the problem. “The Chinese don’t really like foreigners working on their base, I’m not sure they can be persuaded to take you either.” Smythe knew they were running out of options. “Central is a possibility, but Mead doesn’t like to take what he calls intellectual refugees, he thinks it makes him look weak so you won’t be joining the international community there.” Mead knew that only left one option. “The Soviet base is out of the question I’m afraid. They still don’t like people that have arrived since 1990, to much news from back home. It seems petty but they won’t be budged on this.”
“That only means.” Christian spoke softly.
“Re-assignment back to Earth, your memories of this place will be wiped and most likely you’ll be left on the streets somewhere with no idea of who you are or where you have been.” Smythe had had to give this option to people before, he never grew used to it.
“Can I be executed instead sir?”
“Let’s not worry about such things, we might get lucky.”
“I heard there was no such thing as re-assignment to Earth, it was just a story.”
“It does exist I’m afraid.” Smythe dropped his head momentarily. “I’ve read the reports. They can be horrifying.” Smythe started to walk towards the door. “You still have three hours, maybe you’ll find something, we don’t want Mead to close down this unit after we’ve only just managed to get it re-opened.”
Buying An Identity
23:45 EST, March 19th 2006
Office of Identity Inc. Boston, United States, Earth
Sirus knew what she was doing was against the law, but she had to do it anyway. It wasn’t much of a choice, everything about her was illegal. She had travel sixteen hours to be here and the truth was she would have travelled further if she had too. Sirus had always believed in going to see the best. It didn’t matter if it was the best Doctor, the best accountant or the best hairdresser. If you wanted quality then you had to travel for it and more importantly you had to pay top dollar. Buying a fake identity was no different. There was no point in trying to save a few bucks just to be let down in the future. She sat and waited. The room was just like any other waiting room she had ever been in. Some old discarded magazines sat on a central table, unloved and unwanted. Some uncomfortable looking chairs were dotted around the edge of the room. Eventually the others in the room were called and would go through to the office, never to be seen again. Now there was just Sirus and a man sitting there waiting. The man looked familiar to her though, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had seen him somewhere before and in this place, that could be dangerous.
“Jume.” Sirus said quietly but loud enough for her to be sure that the man could hear. It had been a while since she had used any of her Martian language skills, she wasn’t even sure which dialect it was but she knew it was a real world.
“I’m sorry I don’t understand you.” The man said before smiling at her sympathetically. He then went back to staring at the wall.
“You see now we have a problem.” Sirus said, still looking at the man who refused to make eye contact with her. “You see most people when they hear a Martian word they just assume its Eastern European or Asian.” Sirus thought for a moment. “They try to make themselves understood and they never speak in clear conversation English. You however knew that word wasn’t from this planet didn’t you Jonathan Dale.” It only came to Sirus a split second before she said it but this man was Jonathan Dale, she remembered seeing his wanted posters on the Island. The man looked full of fear and panic. Had he been caught?
“I don’t know that name.” The man said before returning to his staring at the wall, his neck muscles almost exploding with the strain of focus.
“Of course, you don’t know that name.” Sirus thought for moment. “You must have had dozens since you used that one.”
“Seeing as where we are I don’t think either one of us is really in a position to criticise the others life choices.” The man snapped. He then thought for a moment before adding. “Are you a recruiter?”
“What?” Sirus asked.
“Are you a recruiter?” The man smiled, for the first time in the conversation he had the upper hand. “If you’ve been on the run for a while then surely you’ve realise that the recruiters job is to protect the secret, that’s why they recruit when they have to but don’t forget every single one of them is some form of assassin.”
“I was a Zeppelin class pilot.” Sirus said, acknowledging that she would have to reveal more about herself then she was comfortable. “I made a mistake but managed to escape.”
“Captain Jennifer Sirus.” The man said, pleased with himself. “See I know your name too.” The man smiled a broad smile that showed that he was confident. “You did more than make a mistake, you got a man killed, allowing a Weona Napl Martian warrior on Earth like that.”
“How do you know about it? It was years after you left the programme.”
“You hear things every now and then, it’s part of staying one step ahead.”
“Have you heard about the war?” Sirus asked, curious for the most up-to-date news.
“No.” The man conceded.
“What about the French base?” Sirus asked, she hadn’t heard anything in a while.
“No.” The man said again. It was obvious that not being informed was troubling him.
“If you don’t mind me asking.” Sirus’ curiosity was getting the better of her. “Why did you leave?”
“My son.” The man replied. “My son is very sick, he has a form of Autism, he’s confined to a wheel chair most of the time.” The man spoke with a tear forming in his eye. “He was born after I went to the Island. I got word my wife wasn’t doing so well.”
“But to go out in the way that you did.” Sirus said.
“I know what I did.” The man interrupted her. “It’s not something that I’m proud of but my wife and son needed me, so here I am.” The man got up from his chair, walked over and sat down next to Sirus. She was scared for a moment. After what this man had done he was not someone that she would want near her. “If you’re here then you’ve met someone.” The man said very quietly. “You wouldn’t go to this expense if you were planning on skipping town in a couple of days. My suspicion is you’ve fallen for someone, someone who doesn’t know about Mars or the Haissisut or the Weona Napl or what you did.” The man paused for a moment. The silence was all the confirmation he was going to get, it was all he needed, he was right. “Look I have to stay still, we move every few years but with my son it is a nightmare.” The man knew his next words would be the hardest for her to hear. “He can’t ever know the truth. If you stay with him then his life is in danger, keep moving, keep running.”
“A real life has worked for you.” She said.
“Not really.” The man replied. “Besides my time is coming. Eventually the Martian Operations Agency will catch up with me and they will kill me.” The man thought for a moment. “My wife too in all probability.” The man looked like he was thinking about this for a moment, his mind dwelling on things he was trying hard not the think about. “I have faith though that they will make sure my son is looked after. If I get Philips maybe, he’s a fair man. Not all of the recruiters are monsters.” Then the man just sat in silence. After about 15 minutes he was called and he stood up to go through the door. “Please run, I think you’re a good person but you’re being greedy thinking you’ll be able to have a normal life. Just run.” The man left. Sirus thought for a moment, she couldn’t run but she knew that they would be coming for her soon too. If she could only find a way of finding out that man’s new identity, maybe she could use it to bargain for her life. He had s
eemed like such a good loving man, but in this life Sirus knew that would make him weak, maybe she could exploit that.
A Long Flight
22:45 EST, March 11th 2017
1st Class Cabin, Air America Flight to Washington DC
Philips looked at the file again. Another mission successfully accomplished. He hadn’t known the man he had just met for long but Philips felt that the two men had known each other their entire life. Philips had liked the man he had just met, a jazz fan with a young family who had completed his PhD on geophysics at such a young age. Philips had found him charming and charismatic and all the things he wanted the man to be. Philips had felt it was a real shame that he had to kill him. Captain Philips’ task in life had not been an easy one at the best of times. Often the people who he briefed would become distressed and uncooperative, it was Philips’ role to end their hostile nature to what they had just been told. Philips had planned for such an eventuality, having a plan B ready to put into action was something he had learnt to do in this job. Usually he would allow them a few hours to put their affairs in order but on this occasion Philips had felt that that was too cruel. Instead he had decided to end this poor man’s life quickly. A fake suicide was a common enough method, putting lipstick on him and planting the fake ID so it looked like had been living as a woman secretly was Philips’ own little touch. Philips knew that it would be enough to put the police off from investigating to deeply. It would also help the man’s widow to move on quickly, it was less painful all round. Philips leant back in his first-class seat and closed his eyes. It had been a long but fairly routine assignment and he was looking forward to a few days of rest and relaxation in Washington DC. It wasn’t often that he got to go back to the city which was essentially his home, Philips had given up his apartment there years ago instead choosing to go from hotel to hotel room. The various agencies he worked for preferred it that way with no complications. Philips sensed someone was near him, he opened his eyes to see the stewardess putting a blanket over him.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you.” The stewardess said softly before smiling sweetly at him.
“That’s quite alright.” Philips replied. “I wasn’t really sleeping anyway.”
“You’ve flown with me before haven’t you?” The stewardess asked.
“Probably, I fly a lot in my line of work.”
“And what is it you do?” She asked
“I’m a head hunter.” Philips replied. It was essentially true after all. Philips had long since discovered that when lying it was best to keep to the truth.
“Well I’ll leave you to your nap now.” The stewardess smiled again before returning to her work. As she walked away Philips couldn’t help but notice her walk. He knew of others who did his job that would try at the very least to get her number. But a mildly-unsatisfactory fling with a random air hostess wouldn’t be of much comfort to Philips for long. Questions about his job and lifestyle would arise sooner or later, those questions would always be a little hard to dismiss. Not many people really understood a man that could do what Philips did. To Philips however it was the most fascinating career he could imagine. He got to fly around the world seeing wonderful places and getting to meet people who he found fascinating. And for those people Philips was their first step into a wonderful adventure that only the fool-hardy would have dreamt of. To Philips it was worth while work. On average once a month he would meet someone who was the absolutely best in their particular field of study. Soldiers, engineers, doctors, geologists, physicist’s, chemists, archaeologists and even logisticians were just some of the people Philips had met in the last sixteen years. With most of these great minds he had indulged in a game of chess often winning.
The familiar ding of the seat belt on light filled the cabin momentarily. Philips opened his eyes. Several hours had passed since the air hostess had given him the blanket. Quickly Philips acclimatised to his surroundings and readied himself for landing. The plane soon landed and taxied up to the gangway. Philips remained in his seat, letting the person who had been sitting next to him walk past. Philips always waited to be the last one to leave the plan. After looking around to check that no-one else was on board Philips rose from his seat and casually walked off the plane and through the terminal. After a few minutes of walking Philips arrived at the que for passport control. The line was long, full of his fellow passengers who had all rushed to join it. Philips smiled. A tall non-descript man in a plain black suit white shirt and black tie walked up to Philips immediately.
“Please step this way sir.” The man said.
“Certainly.” Philips replied before the man walked him to the front of the que and past the passport check. Philips couldn’t help but smile as out of the corner of his eye he spotted all of those passengers who were jealous of him. Once past the checkpoint the man turned to Philips.
“Must we do this every time you come to Washington?” The man asked.
“It’s not just when I come here, I do it every time.”
“Yes you have diplomatic immunity but do you have to show off.” The man added in frustration. “Everything about your life is supposed to be a secret don’t forget.”
“True, but this is the only bit of showing off I get to do.” Philips smiled. “I enjoy it.”
“Any way you need to cancel your plans.”
“Am I flying out again?” Philips asked, surprised that he was being given a new assignment so quickly.
“Our friends in London have asked for you specifically.” The man replied. “The Scotsman asked for you by name, said you owed him one.”
“Welsh.” Philips said, taking the file from the man’s hand. Philips opened the file and started to read it.
“What?” The man asked, confused.
“He’s Welsh not Scottish.” Philips looked up from his reading. “They get very uppity about these things.”
“Scottish, Welsh, what’s the difference?” The man asked, not sure why this minor detail was taking over the conversation.
“None what’s so ever, they both hate the English.” Philips went back to his reading. It seemed to be the usual stuff, nothing that would require his specific attention. “A difficult candidate?” Philips asked, knowing that it was the only possible explanation for his involvement.
“Something to do with an exam question, I don’t really know the full details.” The man said. “I thing they want you over there for quite a while.”
One Night In An Office
21:45 GMT, March 15th 2017
MI7 Headquarters, London, United Kingdom
Night-time was always the best time to do these deeds. Philips walked into the office looking around as he did so. Zed, a bolding middle aged Welshman was sitting behind the large desk. Papers scattered the desk, but in an organised fashion. This office could have been any one of thousands dotted across the city. This could have been any company, with any middle manager calling in his number two for a briefing before giving him his orders. However, both men knew that no matter how non-descript the occasion was their jobs were anything but regular. For them both it was an ordinary meeting on an ordinary subject, but in most offices, this wouldn’t be a mundane conversation. Few meetings involved a kill order being given.
“Evening Zed.” Philips spoke first, his soft American accent certainly wouldn’t be that unfamiliar in this part of London. The greeting hanging in the air, still and lonely.
“Evening Captain Philips.” Zed replied, after having allowed a whole thirty seconds to pass. He looked up, viewing Philips as he stood in front of the desk. The two men were as close to friends as they could be in their profession, the secret they both shared didn’t lend itself well to having friends. “How are you?” Zed asked, not really caring about the answer but feeling it was important to follow the niceties of life.
“Well, thank you.” Philips replied. “And yourself?” Phili
ps felt obliged to ask but knew too well that neither men really felt comfortable with this sort of small talk.
“Good point, let’s just get on with it shall we.” Zed handed a file over to Philips. “A standard reveal and recruit mission for you Philips.” Philips picked up the file and looked at the pages within.
“I’m assuming the file I was given in Washington was false.” Philips asked.
“Correct.” Zed said proudly. “We couldn’t have your employers knowing what we really intended you for.” Zed nodded to the file Philips was already reading. “It’s all completely standard though, I assure you.”
“Only it isn’t, is it?” Philips replied. “This is far from a standard reveal and recruit.” Philips held up the photograph from the file, that of a young man. “He’s only 16.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Zed admitted. “Looks like your hunch on question thirteen was right. He solved it.”
“I knew he would be able too.” Philips smiled to himself, remembering how Zed had argued with him about putting the question in the exam paper to begin with. “How much do I tell him?”
“Just the usual.” Zed replied, not sure why Philips had asked this question. He had done hundreds of these sorts of missions and had never needed clarity before. “Why would it be any different?”
“I guess it might be because he’s sixteen, or it might be because of who he is.” Philips replied.
“Irrelevant.” Zed almost shouted his point. “On both points.” He added, a little quieter.
“If he refuses to come?” Philips asked.
“Try not to reveal to much until he’s committed.” Zed sighed. “If we don’t use him then he could still be useful to Her Majesty’s Government in other ways later down the line. It would be a shame if you were to waste this boy’s talents.”
“By killing him.” Philips clarified. “It would be a shame if I had to kill a sixteen-year-old boy before your government could use his gifts for your own purposes you mean.”
“Well it would be.”
“Have you seen what it says here about his mother?” Philips asked, surprised by the boys background.
“Stick to the script Captain, I thought that was what you Marines were good at.” Zed then looked down and carried on with his work.
“Drug use, living on the game, in and out of doss houses.” Philips was still reading from the file.
“That was his mother, not him, it has no relevance here.” Zed said through gritted teeth.
“But?”
“But what Captain?”
“Nothing, sir.” Philips snapped out of it. If Zed was happy with what was in the file then he knew he should be too. “I’ll meet with him tomorrow.”
“Maths genius this one.” Zed looked up from his work. “Will you be playing the boy at chess?”
“Not this time.” Philips closed the file, he had read enough. “Would love to but chess is better suited to when the candidate has a choice, he doesn’t.”
“I suppose so.”
“Is there anything else sir?” Philips asked before tossing the file back on the desk.
“Just one thing.” Zed suddenly remembered the other complication. “I will need your help tomorrow night. This case will require the Prime Minister to pass an extraordinary enabling act.”
“So?” Philips sounded a little confused. “That sounds like a domestic political matter, not one that I can interfere with.” Even though Philips had been to the United Kingdom many times for so many years he knew he was still an outsider, there were jobs he could do and jobs he couldn’t. “What do you want me there for?”
“The Prime Minister feels things are a bit more official when having to sign secret acts if an American is there.”
“I see.” Philips nodded and smiled. “The old ‘above your pay grade’ tactic.”
“Exactly.” Zed grinned back. “If you could wear your US Marines uniform I’m sure that would be of benefit too.”
“Make them feel it’s important?”
“You know the drill.” Zed returned to his work. “Dismissed Captain.”
“Yes sir.” Philips turned on his heels and started to walk out of the office. He knew that once again he had been ordered to kill someone. If he didn’t want to do it then he had better make sure that the kid signs the orders. All that talk of only kill if necessary was just a smoke screen, an opportunity for Zed to deny any knowledge if Philips gets found out. Philip knew there was no way he could only tell the boy a little, he would have to disclose everything, everything he dared to anyway. Only if the boy accepts the truth will he get to live or else he’ll be slaughtered to keep him from talking.