“Did the sun rise late today? Most people don’t pay that close attention, but the folks at the National Weather Service do. That’s their job. And Doctor Claire Berkley, a meteorologist at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Agency, says that the sun did indeed rise late over Washington, DC this morning—five minutes and eight-point-two-two seconds late, to be precise. Doctor Berkley says it rose late by exactly the same interval at the Greenwich Observatory in England as well, and that it has been rising late all over the world. When pressed for an answer she stated:
“‘The only imaginable cause would be a shift in the Earth’s axis, which would, conversely, cause an earlier sunrise in the southern hemisphere. But sunrise was late all over the globe, and Earth’s axis is unchanged.’
“Doctor Berkley said she had no explanation yet. We will be following this incredible story. Meanwhile, in other news…”
“Holy shit!” Donny said. “The sun rose late? Late?”
Hari felt a chill, which graduated to tremors as she saw all the dominoes falling. Fearing she’d lose control of the car, she pulled onto the shoulder and skidded to a stop.
“What’s the matter? You okay?”
She could only shake her head. Not okay. Not okay at all.
“Hari, are you gonna be sick?”
She found her voice. “What was that mantra you mentioned yesterday, the one in the Septimus Foundation emails?”
Now, Donny looked a little sick himself. “‘It will begin in the Heavens…’”
“I think that’s just what happened while we were trapped in Wherever: It began in the Heavens. This is what the Septimus folks have been preparing for.”
“The sun rising late?”
“I can’t see it being a one-time thing. Think about it: the sun rises progressively later every day when it’s supposed to be rising earlier. What’s the fallout from that?”
“Well, less daylight, for sure.”
“Which means crop failures, Donny. Not just local—worldwide. And worldwide crop failures lead to worldwide famine. And how do you prepare for worldwide famine?”
Donny’s voice was very small. “Stockpile food.”
“Right. For your own people and for others you want to control. When the world goes hungry, the guy serving lunch calls the shots. They’ve seen this coming and they’ve been preparing.”
“We’ve got to tell Art.”
“Tell Art?” She heard her voice rising but couldn’t stop it. “Sure. Tell Art so he can sell off his stocks and collect all that nice cash—for what? If this is going to go like they think, it’s the end of the fucking world, Donny, or at least the end of life as we know it! We’ve got signals from outer space or beyond outer space shooting into the Earth and maybe causing all this. We’ve got a hole through a mountain back there that leads to another planet! What if that passage doesn’t close one time and all those tar-clump things decide to migrate to this side? They like the dark and now daylight is shrinking! We are fucked, Donny! Royally fucked!”
She realized she was screaming and shut up.
“Don’t lose it, Hari,” Donny said with a wide-eyed stare. “Please don’t lose it. You’re the most together woman I’ve ever known—make that person I’ve ever known. If you can’t hold it together—”
“I’m okay. Just had to vent a little. I’m okay now.”
Not true. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be okay again—not with what the future promised. But she felt better. The venting had helped some, but only a little. The apocalypse loomed. She had to find her own way to deal with it.
She put the Tahoe in gear and got rolling again.
“You have a plan?” Donny said.
“I’m working on one.”
The signals…somehow the signals were key. Or at least a starting point.
“I can’t stop thinking about those Septimus sonsabitches,” Donny said. “They knew this was coming but they kept it to themselves. Coulda warned the world but instead they’re angling to take advantage of the shit storm. Someone needs to take them down.”
An uncomfortable thought struck Hari. “You don’t happen to own a gun, do you?”
A short harsh laugh. “No. I’m a lover, not a fighter. I couldn’t pull a trigger on man nor beast. But someone oughta do something.”
“Well, if you’ll pardon the cliché, what goes around tends to come around.”
He shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. It doesn’t come around unless someone makes it come around.”
Hari decided then she liked him. Liked him a lot.
They spent the rest of the trip in relative silence. Hari didn’t know what Donny was thinking, but her own thoughts kept returning to those signals. She remembered the email address that sent the reports because it included an iconic Central Park West apartment building—almost as iconic as the Dakota: [email protected]. She’d pay a visit to the Allard as soon as she made it back to the city. She hoped “Burbank” referred to a person and not the Los Angeles suburb, because she had a ton of questions about the signals, and was pretty sure this Burbank had the answers.
As they hit the outskirts of Troy, Donny broke the silence.
“Drop me off at one of the airport hotels.”
“What? You’re staying?”
A nod. “Yeah. Got some unfinished business here.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”
Was he trying to be mysterious? He wasn’t terribly good at it.
“You said someone needs to take Septimus down. You’re not planning something stupid, are you?”
He grinned. “Me? Stupid? In a way I wish I were. The thing is, I don’t have any sort of plan yet, so I want to stay here and work on one.”
“You can work on it back in the city.”
“Nope-nope-nope. Their stockpile is here. That’s the key to whatever they’re planning. That’s where I can hurt them.”
“You’re one guy, Donny, and they’re many. They’re the kind of people who find some wormhole to another planet and use it to hide their supplies. They operate on a whole different level than we
