An Interpreter Required
Earth. South Africa - 2013, Friday
The Cast
Janet Kilkenny, Henry J Jones, Amanda Walker, Ann Walker
Janet Kilkenny, CIA’s Assistant Deputy Director for Science & Technology, paced the hotel corridor in Pietermaritzburg, South Africa, hands on hips, her whole demeanour shouting frustration. A delayed flight the evening before and now her interpreter Malcolm having come down with some mystery bug and a doctor who seemed to be taking an age. And a meeting with her Chinese counterpart only a few hours away. All this, and an outfit that was hellishly uncomfortable; she couldn’t wait to get into her casual gear.
‘He has salmonella food poisoning. I’m afraid he’s going to be laid up for between two and seven days,’ the doctor finally informed her.
‘He’s not in any grave danger then?’ asked Janet.
‘No, not at all, though he will probably feel awful for at least the next twenty-four hours. He needs plenty of liquids to stay hydrated.’
‘Thank you, doctor.’
‘Not at all. I can get someone to get this medicine from the drugstore. Instructions for use will be clearly labelled. I’ll be on my way now.’ His polite nod was missed by Janet as she turned away.
Damn it. I’ll have to cancel, she thought. But that would appear weak. The image of the sneaky Chinese negotiator smiling as his interpreter told her something entirely different would goad her. She needed a good translator.
She popped into see Malcolm, and it was clear from the poor man’s face he was suffering. Back at her room, she called Henry at the American Embassy.
‘Henry, my translator has food poisoning. I need someone fluent in Mandarin for this afternoon’s meeting. Can you help?’
‘Good morning to you too, Miss Kilkenny,’ replied Henry J. Jones, a chief attaché at the American Embassy. ‘Give me an hour, madam, and I’ll see what I can pull out of the hat.’
‘Sorry, JJ,’ Janet said in a thick Irish accent trying to atone for her curtness. ‘Do your best, buddy.’
Breakfast was delicious. Not eating on the plane to Durban had left her famished, and decidedly healthier than Malcolm at the moment. The full English helped her demeanour no end. Her phone rang while she was savouring her second cup of coffee.
‘Speak to me, Henry!’ Janet was now giving it her full Bronx. He was one of her favourite colleagues.
‘As you wish, Madame,’ he said, continuing his best English butler impression, happy to play along with Janet’s little game. ‘Unfortunately, Mandarin interpreters are a little thin on the ground here in South Africa. But, Gertrude at the British Embassy has got an MI6 support officer who she says is quite good. Not interpreter standard, but the best I can offer.’
‘Okay, Henry,’ Janet said after a few seconds. ‘I’ve come too far not to see them.’
‘I’ll arrange for her to come to your hotel at lunchtime. Her name is Amanda Walker.’
‘Great, thanks, Henry. I owe you,’ Janet said, signing off.
‘I’ll add it to Madame’s long list,’ Henry said.
The meeting went well. Amanda had missed a few bits of the conversation and misinterpreted a few gestures, but on the whole, she thought Janet was pleased. It was 5.45pm, and Janet had no more engagements for the day. ‘Fancy some dinner, Amanda? You’ve got me out of a hole today. I’ll pick up the tab. Well, the Agency will.’ She smiled warmly at Amanda.
‘Yes, that would be great,’ Mandy replied.
‘A colleague recommended an Italian restaurant on Mayflower Street. Fancy that?’
‘Yes, Janet.’
‘Let’s go then.’
The meal was good. Both ladies chose the spaghetti bolognese and a great bottle of Chardonnay. They chatted about the meeting and general life in the CIA and MI6, and about Anglo-American relations. The waiter cleared the table and Janet ordered cognacs to complement their coffees.
‘So, how does the daughter of a British cabinet minister become a member of MI6?’ Janet asked, seemingly happy to chat on a more intimate level.
Mandy was feeling a little tipsy now, but was enjoying Janet’s company. She felt she could be slightly more open with her than she would normally be. This woman was, after all, nearly at the very top of the CIA and certainly not a security risk. ‘The thrill and the adventure I suppose,’ she said. ‘Not that it’s all that. Most of the time it’s quite mundane, but it does have its moments. I was also part of an adventure when I was a teenager, and that’s spoilt me for accepting mediocrity.’
‘An adventure? Is it one you can talk about?’
‘Well, not really.’ Mandy knew she’d slipped up and tried to change the subject. ‘How old were you when you joined the CIA?’
‘I was twenty-four with a passion for technology,’ Janet said and carried on telling her what she had hoped for from joining the CIA.
Mandy sensed that Janet backed off somewhat, aware of her awkward response. Knowing she had touched on something that should have stayed off limits.
Janet continued, ‘Though my real passion is astronomy. Before my current promotion, I was attached to NASA, tracking NEO’s.’
‘NEO’s?’ Mandy asked, trying to recover her composure.
‘Sorry. Near-Earth Objects. They include asteroids, comets and any of the thousands of satellites that now orbit Earth. We were tracking—they still are—objects that might collide with Earth, and in my official capacity, what other countries were sending up there. Your father would know all about it. He’s well known in this field.’
‘My father has his grubby fingers in many things astronomical. Sounds interesting,’ Mandy said. ‘I see the connection with the meeting today now. I must admit, I was a little confused as to what it was all about. Concentrating too hard on the translating didn’t help.’
‘Which you did well, my dear,’ Janet smiled. ‘When are you heading back to England?’
‘My work here is finished,’ said Mandy. ‘But I plan to stay on for a few days. An Irish friend of mine is riding in the downhill mountain bike world championships the day after tomorrow. It’s only an hour’s drive from here. I’m going to support him.’
‘Not Jon O’Malley?’ Janet had a puzzled look on her face.
‘Yes, do you know him?’ Mandy could feel the tone of her voice noticeably cooling.
Janet seemed to lack confidence for the first time today. ‘Of him. He’s Irish after all. And I have dual USA/Irish citizenship.’
Mandy changed the subject, talking fashion for professional women. But she was desperately trying to fit together all of the pieces of a small jigsaw puzzle. She was convinced that Janet knew more about Jon than she was willing to admit. It wasn’t as though he was a famous mainstream athlete. And her position, the NEO’s and all that entailed. Did she know about Grace and her Life Team? Her head was spinning.
Janet paid the bill and suggested they walk back to her hotel. ‘I’ll get you a cab from there.’
As they approached the hotel, Amanda was at a fever pitch. She had to say something. ‘How do you know Jon? Do you have a professional interest in him? Is he in danger?’
Janet looked into her face, clearly seeing her anxiety. She grabbed her arm lightly but firmly. ‘Let’s go to my room. We need to talk.’
When they arrived in Janet’s room, she sat Amanda down on the sofa and went to the drinks cabinet and poured herself a scotch. Amanda declined.
Janet sat down across from her. ‘We both have an interest in Jon O’Malley. I’m intrigued to know what you know, and you’re desperate to know what I do. We can skirt around the subject, or we can cut straight to the chase. I’m willing to go first and tell you what I know. You can decide then what, if anything, you want to tell me.’
Amanda thought for a moment. This was getting out of her comfort zone. She needed help. ‘Can I phone my mother? Can she listen to what you have to say?’
Janet’s look was surprised, but she composed herself. ‘Fine,’ she replied.
Amanda phoned her mother.
‘Hi, darling. I was just dropping off. Can this wait until tomorrow?’
‘No, Mother, it can’t. I’m with Janet Kilkenny, CIA’s Assistant Deputy Director for Science & Technology. I’ve helped her out today, here in South Africa, with some Mandarin translations. Over dinner tonight we have, somehow, touched on the fact we both have an interest in Jon, and it is obvious something is amiss. Janet was just about to tell me what she knows, and I asked if you could listen in. I’m worried about him.’
Ann was now, of course, wide awake. ‘Yes, Mandy. Are we on speakerphone?’
‘We are now.’ Amanda touched a couple of buttons.
‘Hello, Janet. We’ve never met, but my husband mentions you often. He is certainly an admirer of your work. I’m intrigued. What is this all about?’
‘Hi, Ann,’ Janet replied. ‘Thank you for those kind words. I’m happy to talk freely, as long as we all agree that what is said here doesn’t leave these four walls, so to speak.’
‘Agreed,’ Ann confirmed.
‘Several years ago I was on a sabbatical from work, looking after my terminally ill mother in Ireland. I had plenty of time on my hands, so I set up a mini observation station in my parents’ attic. Being on the foothills of Carrauntoohil, night-time clarity was pretty good. I’d previously been on loan to NASA studying NEO’s.’ Janet paused to assess Ann’s knowledge.
‘I’m aware of NEO’s,’ Ann said.
Janet continued, happy that Ann, probably through her husband, had some basic knowledge. ‘Anyway, I won’t go into too much detail, but I came across a shadow on an asteroid that I later discovered could have been a UFO.’
‘What year are we talking about?’ asked Mandy.
‘It was about two years ago, 2011,’ Janet said. ‘Whatever it was, I tracked it to Ireland. It was right there on my doorstep, so off I went to do some amateur sleuthing. I’ve never had any definitive proof, but I’m sure I’ve identified at least one, possibly two of the occupants of the vessel, and I’m nigh on positive they are now travelling with Jon O’Malley.’
‘Oh, Mother, they’ve found him!’ Amanda was trying to hold it together but was feeling the strain.
‘Steady, darling. Let me think a moment.’ Ann paused for a good thirty seconds, before replying, ‘Thank you, Janet. Thank you for your honesty.’ She paused again, then decided. ’I think we need to tell you our story.
‘Back in 2000, my husband and I were selected by a group of aliens who were on the run from their war-torn planet in the Alpheratz system.’
Janet’s eyes lit up in amazement. She looked up at Mandy, who silently acknowledged the statement with a nod.
‘They were looking for a sanctuary, somewhere to hide their princess until such time that it would be safe to return home. They are technologically more advanced than we are, but are a peaceful race that has been trying to broker peace with their neighbours for many years. We helped them settle on a remote estate in Ireland. There were, or should I say are, eleven of them. The Princess, who we named Grace, is the same age as Amanda. One of the final selection criteria was that they wanted Grace to have a friend. They befriended a local boy—Jon. Unfortunately, one of the Vercetians—that’s how they refer to themselves—was an undercover spy for the Trun—their enemy—who made an early attempt on Grace’s life. The attempt was thwarted, but Mandy and Jon discovered Grace’s true identity. They’ve been friends ever since.’
Janet whispered to Mandy, ‘I was never one hundred percent sure, but I always hoped I was right.’
Ann continued, ‘They never identified the mole, but about eight years ago a message orb went missing, and the Vercetians knew their location had been compromised. They set up this second residence here in Cork, to relocate to upon detection of an enemy vessel.’
Ann chuckled softly. ‘You, Janet Kilkenny, in your attic in Ireland, managed to find a space ship that their advanced technology couldn’t.
‘They have an escape plan. Having become fond of our world and its inhabitants, they don’t want to be the cause of Earth becoming a battleground. If the Trun come for Grace, they’ll send a battle cruiser. I think we can assume they will be coming by the advance party already here. I just hope the surveillance system in our Solar System gives them an early warning of its arrival. They plan to leave the planet so that the cruiser follows them. If they leave now, the Trun ship will still search Earth, which wouldn’t be a good thing. This way they will draw it away. Jon is in danger. They are obviously using him to find Grace, and may have already succeeded.’ Ann stopped to give Janet time to digest everything.
Amanda, who had refrained from interrupting her mother’s monologue, spoke up. ‘You need to help us, Janet. You need to help them and Jon. They’re good people.’
‘Would you like to meet them, Janet?’ Ann asked, taking the initiative. ‘Can you fly to Cork tomorrow? I can meet you there and introduce you to Douglas, their leader.’