3

There were nine of them gathered at the table. Some of them were clearly scientists, others military, others bureaucrats, still others it was hard to say exactly what they were. Most, but not all, of them were Unitologists, and here, among friends, they all wore their amulets exposed and hanging around their necks, publicly professing their creed.

“So we’re in agreement,” said one of them. He was a military man and seemingly the leader, of an impressive mien and bearing, named Blackwell. Of very high rank, his uniform studded with insignia and commendations.

“I still think it’s too dangerous,” said another, a wiry little man, a scientist named Kurzweil. “Despite all precautions, the Black Marker experiments went quickly out of control. We lost the majority of our team. We’re very lucky that there wasn’t an outbreak, that we were able to stop it within the walls of the compound.” He gestured to the scientist next to him. “Hayes can attest to that.”

“And yet, I’m for it,” said Hayes. “As is everyone here but you, Kurzweil. In any experiment there is risk, and the potential gains that we have from unlocking the power of the Black Marker far outweigh the risks. We are the vanguard meant to lead humanity to Convergence. Now that we’ve recovered the data, we should have the means to build a new Marker.”

Some of the others nodded in agreement.

“Fine,” said Blackwell. He turned to the first scientist. “You’re outvoted, Kurzweil, as you knew already.”

Kurzweil shrugged. “Can we at least agree not to build the new facility on Earth? We need to be somewhere where, if there is an outbreak, it’ll do a minimal amount of damage.”

“So where do we go now?” asked Blackwell.

“To the moon?” suggested one of the men.

Kurzweil shook his head. “Too close, not private enough.”

“We need to go somewhere where we can allow things to develop and see how they go, get as much data as possible, and then nuke the planet if need be,” said one of the men whose profession wasn’t identifiable. His hair was cut short and he had cruel eyes. His skin had a dullness to it, was almost gray. “Somewhere off the beaten track.”

Blackwell nodded. “I’ll send a ship out,” he said. “I know just the man for the job. We’ll see what he can find.”

They stood and prepared to go, but the two men without identifiable profession or affiliation beckoned to Blackwell to stay behind. He did, remaining silent with his arms folded, waiting until the three of them were alone in the room. But even once everyone else was gone, the men didn’t say anything.

“That went quite well, I think,” Blackwell finally said.

“Who do you have for the job?” asked the larger of the two, ignoring Blackwell’s comment.

“Who? Commander Grottor. We’ve used him often in the past. He has impeccable credentials and is very discreet, as is his crew.”

The other man nodded. “We’ll want to meet him,” he said.

“You’ve never asked to meet them before,” said Blackwell.

“This is much more important than anything we’ve done before.”

“Don’t you trust me?” asked Blackwell.

The two men just stared at him, as if he hadn’t asked a question.

“We’ll want to meet him,” the man repeated.

Blackwell nodded. “Of course,” he said.