Ground Zero

4

“Next thing I saw was the ceiling of a hospital room.”

Oh, hell, Jack thought.

“That’s it?”

“That was it then. The doctors told me I’d been spewing word salad—that’s what they called it—for days. Now I could talk and make sense but I couldn’t answer their questions about what happened down there. I had a hole in my memory ru

“When they told me that the guys were dead, crushed in a cave-in, I cried. Later I figured that’s what I’d been afraid of. I sometimes get premonitions—little things, you know, like someone coming for a visit—and maybe what I was feeling was one of those, but scary because it involved death.”

“What did they think it was—shock-induced amnesia?”

He nodded. “Something like that. They said I was in what they called ‘a fugue state’ when they found me.”

Pissed, Jack rose from the uncomfortable boulder and brushed off the seat of his jeans as he paced about. This was looking like a major waste of time.

“Well, if you can’t remember, that brings up the question of why someone would try to off a guy who had amnesia.”

“Because my memories of that morning returned.”

Jack stopped and looked at him. “Why the hell didn’t you say so?”

“I’m saying so now. They sent me home on three head drugs that made me feel like crap, but I hung with them, hoping I’d get my memory back. I lived in East Meadow then. That’s a town on—”

“Long Island. I know. Go on.”

“Well, this detective from the city named Volkman kept coming around, asking me questions I couldn’t answer. He told me some people were saying an explosion had caused the cave-in that killed my buds and did I know anything about that, or had I seen any explosives, and so on.”

Something wrong there.

“He traveled all the way from Manhattan to chat with you?”

“Yeah. Lots of times.” Goren shrugged. “Maybe he had nothing better to do, maybe he was trying to make a name for himself. whatever, I couldn’t help him. Until . . .”

“Your memory came back.”

“Right. Happened in a flash. Suddenly I found myself reliving the whole thing. I was back at Ground Zero, in WTC-four’s foundation, peeking around the edge of the hole. I was barely aware of Lukach, Ratner, and Alfieri standing about twenty feet away, talking to half a dozen workers wearing dark coveralls and respirators. I couldn’t pay any attention to them because my eyes became glued on this . . . thing.”

“What kind of thing?”

“I don’t know. It was big, maybe a dozen or more feet long and, say, half that wide.”

“Cylindrical?”

“Could have been. Hard to tell under that tarp.”

Jack had once seen an Opus Omega pillar with those dimensions . . . a concrete column . . . and it had contained the body of a woman he knew.

“Was it upright, like a column?”

“No. It was on its side on a dolly attached to a backhoe.”

“A backhoe? How’d they get one down there?”

“Through a tu

“A subway tu

Goren nodded. “The only thing it could be.”

“Well, the E train had a World Trade Center stop.”

“But that was under building five.”

“The PATH then?”

“The PATH comes under the Hudson from the west. This tu

Jack shook his head. He knew the subway system backward and forward.

“There’s no other line down there.”

“Right. And I didn’t see any rails in that tu

“Then . . . ?”

“I’ve done a lot of research since then. A number of subway lines were started down that end of the city and never completed. I think that was a branch of one of them, but I’ve never been able to find a record of it.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Jack said, thinking of the disappearing Aswad.

“But none of that mattered at the time. I don’t remember wondering about the tu

“But you were wrong.”

There I go, he thought. Master of the obvious.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know that then. I realize now that I was just passing out. But as everything was going black, I heard shouting. I looked over to where I’d seen my guys and saw them being clubbed to the ground with pry bars and such. That was the last thing I saw. After that I was out.”

Jack wanted to know what happened next but didn’t bother asking. Goren couldn’t remember things he hadn’t seen. He resumed his pacing.

Bizarre . . . bizarre . . . bizarre . . .

“That thing under the tarp,” Goren said after a while. “It was an alien artifact, wasn’t it.”

Jack looked at him. Goren was obviously a sensitive, and if his frame of reference was UFOs, it would be natural for him to think that. Jack knew the truth and had no doubt Goren had seen an Opus Omega column. But he didn’t have time to get into that. And besides, the guy wouldn’t believe him anyway.

So he played dumb.

“What makes you think I know?”

“Just a suspicion.”

“What makes you think aliens were involved?”

“The way it affected me. The other guys didn’t notice a thing, but me . . . I sensed it right away. It was causing my panic attack.”

Jack continued his impression of a psychiatrist. “Why do you think that was?”

He looked away. “I’ve always suspected that I was abducted by aliens when I was a kid. I’m sure of it now.”

“Oookaaay.”

Goren’s head snapped around, his expression angry. “Go ahead. I’m used to it. But I was out camping with my folks when I was six. They woke up and I was gone. They found me a mile away, naked, turning circles till I threw up and passed out.”

Using Occam’s razor, Jack could come up with a half dozen explanations off the top of his head, none of them involving space aliens.

“Do you remember the aliens?”

“Of course not. You never do. Or at least you’re not supposed to. But they either implanted something in me or added some of their own DNA to my system. whatever the case, something inside me, something they inserted in me, responded to whatever was under that tarp.”

Jack knew it had been the Otherness he’d responded to, not aliens. But he wasn’t about to open that can of worms.

“Can you remember anything else?”

Goren shook his head.

“Think,” Jack said. “Picture the scene. You’ve got your three friends, you’ve got half a dozen bad guys, you’ve got the . . . the artifact under the tarp . . . what else?”

Goren squeezed his eyes shut. After a moment, he said, “As I picture the artifact, I can see someone standing in the background. They’d strung lights along one wall of the tu

“What was he doing?”

“Just watching, I think. I remember him because he looked like he didn’t belong.”

“Why not?”

“He wasn’t dressed like the others. They were in dark clothing, he was in a much lighter color. The light wasn’t good, but he seemed to be in white.”

Probably one of the Dormentalist bigwigs, possibly even Luther Brady himself overseeing the operation.

“Anything else?”

Another moment of deep concentration, then, “The guys were standing around a hole in the bedrock. It was five or six feet across. They must have pulled the artifact out of that.”

No, Jack thought. They’d come to bury a pillar. Opus Omega was all about inserting them in specific locations.

Goren shot to his feet. “Oh, Jesus! Do you think . . . ? I’ve heard talk about the government being involved in the Trade Center attack, but could they possibly have done it just so they could dig up an alien artifact?”