Your Truth is Out There (Find Your Truth Book 1) (21 page)

“It was a couple of rotations ago when I was on my way home from the office and someone took control of my vehicle. I …”

“Wait, what do you mean someone took control of your vehicle? That’s impossible. Especially with a high end vehicle like yours. It’s simply not possible.”

“Yes, I know. However, since it did happen, it clearly is possible. I just don’t know how. Now, shall I continue?”

“Not just yet,” said Lhvunsa, her eyes out of focus as her mind raced with possibilities. “Let’s talk this through a bit further. What would you have to do in order to remotely take control of another vehicle?”

“Since, as you said, it’s completely impossible, I have no idea,” said Qilzar. “If it was possible, vehicle theft would be rampant, yet I’ve never heard of a vehicle ever being stolen. Have you?”

“No, I haven’t, but clearly it is possible, just not very easy or lucrative for the criminal, I suppose. My guess is that they probably can’t just break into the vehicle’s computer system remotely. They would need physical access to the vehicle in order to reroute commands or attach a device or do something that would then allow them to access it remotely whenever they wanted to.”

“How do you know so much about vehicular electronics?”

“Not vehicular, specifically, but, as you know, Gsefx is somewhat of a hobbyist and I guess I’ve picked up a few things.”

“If you’re right, then how would they get to my vehicle? When I’m not in it, it’s locked securely in parking structures either at my home or at Galacticount. Nobody gets in or out of either of those places without credentials, and we both know those cannot be counterfeited.”

“Exactly. Which means that someone physically tampered with your vehicle, Qilzar, and they had access to either your home parking structure or Galacticount’s.

Qilzar’s head snapped back as if he’d been slapped.

“By the Gods! The thought had never crossed my mind.” He paused for a moment, as if in shock, then shook his head. “It wouldn’t have been anyone in my parking structure. There are only ten of us and none have ever shown the slightest interest in me. And none of them know you or Gsefx.”

“Which means someone at Galacticount is in league with the Ricnor gang,” they said together.

“The only truth I’ve found is that Henry Backus is no longer needed in this investigation,” said General Alcorn to his wife during breakfast. “Keeping the poor fool locked up in maximum security won’t do us any good, and it’s likely to get him killed.”

Over the years Alcorn found talking to Janice about his work to often be beneficial in helping him see things from a new perspective. Early on in his career he had to be careful what he said to her, especially when it came to classified material. As he progressed through the ranks, gaining more clout along the way, he worried less about what would happen if someone found out he was sharing classified material with his wife, and more about what would happen to those under his command if he didn’t. By the time he pinned on his first star, Janice Marie Alcorn was an official Pentagon consultant, with a security clearance equal to his own and a need to know that was based fully on his discretion. In other words, after nearly forty years of service to his country, Janny, as he called her, was the only person on the entire planet he trusted without reservation.

“I understand not keeping him in max-sec,” said Janny, “but why go to the trouble to lie to him like that? Seems kinda silly, not to mention completely unnecessary to tell him you “found your truth” when you didn’t.” She made little air quotes with her hands as she said the last, emphasizing her point.

Alcorn mumbled something while suddenly becoming very interested in the last piece of bacon on his plate.

“What was that, Teddy?”

He looked up at his wife, certain that he looked as much the old fool as he felt.

“I said, I didn’t want to disappoint the poor bastard, he’s been through enough.”

Janny reached over and put her hand on his.

“Why Teddy, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d actually grown fond of this young man.”

“Maybe. I don’t know, Janny. I think maybe it’s just a combination of feeling sorry for him and not wanting to deal with him anymore. Telling him I found my truth gets me off the hook from having to deal with him again. He’s safe enough for now. I’ll get him transferred into a psych facility when I get back from Washington. They’ll be able to make sure he doesn’t try to hurt himself again, and it will keep him out of my hair for good.”

Janny quietly sipped her tea while her husband ate his final piece of bacon and washed it down with the last of his coffee.

“What if he’s right, Teddy? What if your truth really is in those paintings and you need to find it? What if this planet needs you to find it?”

“Good God Janny, not you too?”

Janny went on, as if she hadn’t heard him. Alcorn noted that she did this quite often.

“Henry told you that, since we now know for certain that we’re not alone in the universe, we needed someone to lead the discussion and decision-making about where and how mankind is going to fit into the grand scheme of things. He seemed to think you were that someone.”

Alcorn took a deep breath and tried not to lose his composure. That was a guaranteed way to lose an argument with his wife.

“Janny,” he said as gently as he possibly could, “that boy is a nutcase who was about to blow his own brains out until that spaceship practically landed on top of him. What exactly do you think he knows?”

“I’ve seen his paintings, Teddy, and I’ve seen enough in them to know that yes, he was depressed enough to want to take his own life, but he’s far from a nutcase. I can also tell you there’s a whole lot more to those paintings than I can see.”

That took a little of the wind from his sails. Alcorn looked at his wife, suddenly very intent on listening to what she had to say.

“Like what, Janny? Tell me.”

“I wish I could,” she said. “I can see that there is a certain kind of truth in them, but I can’t see what it is. I don’t know how to look any deeper.”

Teddy shook his head. “I don’t know how you see anything at all. It’s just a bunch of damn gobbledygook to me. I wouldn’t even know about his intention to commit suicide if you hadn’t figured it out.” He paused. “Are you sure there’s more?”

Janice nodded. “A lot more. But if you want to know what it is, you’re going to have to do something you don’t want to do.”

“No,” he said, a bit too loudly. He got up from the table and took his dishes to the sink. “No, that’s out of the question.”

“I thought you might say that,” said Janny, as she calmly sipped her tea. “That’s why I called him. He should be here by three.”

Alcorn cursed under his breath as he looked down at dirty plates in the sink. As many times as he and Janice had danced this dance, he should have seen this coming.

Dammit, she was good.

All he wanted was to have a quiet conversation with his wife this morning, without any games. It was too late for that now. He caught his breath and turned around to face her.

“Did you now?” he said. “I suppose that’s reasonable enough; a mother inviting her son for a visit from his home in New York, to hers in Virginia. I mean, it’s been at least six months since …”

“Eight months.”

“Eight months since he’s been here.”

He was stalling, trying to get his bearings. He wasn’t going to win this one, that much was certain, but he might be able to …

“Why thank you, General,” said Janice, interrupting his internal tap dance. “I didn’t think I needed your approval, but it’s nice to know I have it.” She took another sip of her tea as Alcorn watched her closely. “Oh for the love of God, Teddy, aren’t you the least bit interested in seeing your own son?”

He turned back toward the sink, unable to face her, and looked out of the window to the large gray barn where Henry’s paintings were currently being stored.

“Of course I am,” he said, his voice strained. “You know how much I miss him. But you also know what’s gone on between us. Theo and I have never had an easy relationship, and with what’s going on right now, I’m not sure this is the best time to try and resolve our differences.”

“And I disagree, Teddy. This is the perfect time. Whether you like it or not, whether you accept it or not, Theo is one of the foremost art experts in the country, certainly on the entire east coast, and he will be here, at your disposal, later today. Now, before you puff up and tell me that I’m not allowed to bring up the artwork or Henry Backus or aliens, that it is a matter of national security, let me set your mind at ease by reassuring you that I am well aware of my responsibilities. I’ve been in this game almost as long as you have and I know the rules just as well as you do. But let me go one step further, General, by telling you that you are a damn fool if you do not put your personal situation aside and take advantage of his expertise on this matter.”

Alcorn sighed. The game was over and he not only didn’t win, he didn’t even get a chance to play.

“Is that all, Ms. Alcorn?” he asked as he straightened his uniform and turned to face his wife.

“Yes, General, I think that about sums it up.”

“Very well. I’ll take your recommendation under advisement.” He walked over and kissed her on the top of the head. “I’ve got some phone calls to make.”

“Don’t go away mad,” said Janice, a sly smile on her face.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Alcorn as he left the room.

He walked across the house, doing his level best to keep from exploding. One of the benefits of his rank was the option to work from home when the time and situation allowed. This situation not only allowed, it practically demanded it. He couldn’t think of anywhere else where the paintings would be safer than his barn, which, in truth, was no more a place for cows, horses, and hay than was the rest of his so-called farm. While he and Janny referred to their ten-acre spread as the farm, and the large building near their house, the barn, the entire property was more like one giant safe, a place where they could store all of the things they needed to keep secure. The barn was particularly well-protected, as its walls and roof were formed from steel reinforced concrete, three feet thick. The single entrance was secured with the highest tech locking system available and the entire structure was wired to detect even the most minute movement. A team of highly trained soldiers were on standby to swarm the building if even the slightest unauthorized movement was detected.

Now that Backus was of no more practical use, but safely confined, Alcorn needed some time to think and a peaceful place in which to do so. His meeting with Secretary Langhorne was just ten days away, and there wasn’t a more perfect combination of security and solitude than the Virginia countryside. Besides, between the secure phones, computers, and other techno-toys at his disposal, he might as well be sitting in his office at the Pentagon. The only difference is that he didn’t have to put on his uniform, which he did on most days anyway.

He reached the other side of his house, went into his office, shut the door, and fell back against it, struggling between his nearly uncontrollable desire to scream at the top of his lungs and the certainty that he had no other choice but to maintain control. The effort left him shaking and gasping for air.

When he finally regained his composure, he sat and stared out the window for what seemed an eternity, unwilling to move. He wasn’t mad, he decided, not really. Certainly not at Janny, anyway. She was just doing what she always did. Prodding and poking at him, forcing him to think through his decisions more clearly, while engaging the parts of his psyche he would rather leave quietly dormant. In other words, all of those maddening things that had caused him to fall in love with her in the first place. No, as much as he might want to be at times, he couldn’t be mad at her.

If forced to admit it, however, he was mad. More than that, he was furious. He just wasn’t quite certain where to direct his anger. Perhaps, if he could figure that out, maybe he’d know this “truth” Henry seemed to be all fired up about. It was possible that he was just mad at himself. God knew he had a right to be. He’d made enough mistakes in his life to justify plenty of self-rage. Even so, he didn’t really believe that was all there was to it.

Regardless of his own failings, he didn’t think he was the sole target of his inner hostility. The one thing he knew for sure was that it had to do with his son, Theo, and their relationship. Like many father/son relationships, theirs was a complicated one. No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t all that complicated, it was just difficult. Difficult beyond measure—and completely his fault.

He remembered when Theo was first born. Good God, could a man have been any prouder?

A son,
he’d thought then,
this is my son. The continuation of the life I started. The one who will take over where I leave off.

Never in his life, before or since, had Teddy been so happy and proud. So much so, that he convinced Janice right then and there to name the boy Theodore Eustace Alcorn, Junior.

The happiness and pride remained for a while, but as the infant grew into a toddler, and then into a little boy, Alcorn began to notice that Theo was much more like his mother than he would ever be like him. It wasn’t supposed to matter, of course. He loved Janny dearly, and he certainly didn’t love little Theo any less. It was just, well, disappointing, if a word had to be assigned to the feeling. He so wanted Theo to follow in his footsteps, but the more he tried to interest Theo in the things that interested him, like hunting, fishing, and athletics, the more the boy turned away. As if to compound the problem, the more disappointed Alcorn felt, the more ashamed of it he became, which, in turn, caused him to withdraw from Theo and throw himself further into his career.

He knew it was wrong. Why the hell should he care if Theo was more like his mother? Janny was beautiful, intelligent, and great with people. On top of that, she could sing. God, could she sing. Theo had all of that and more. All except the singing part. His gift was painting and, even though Alcorn could tell he would never be on the level of a Henry Backus, he was pretty damn good. Even so, Alcorn just couldn’t seem to accept the fact that, no matter what he did, his son would follow in his wife’s footsteps and not his own.