“Hello, Thomas. Thank you for getting here on short notice,” the Great Leader said.

“My priority, sir.” Not from the heart but needed to be said.

“This is Sergeant Jones.”

Wiley gave him a nod. It wasn’t the man’s real name. He was most probably a police officer—had that look about him. Wiley played their games.

“We’ve had a little mishap with one of our members.” The leader pushed a tablet device towards Wiley. “We should have seen it coming, as he started getting back into the crystal.”

Crystal meth. Wiley had tried it once, and it scared him. He looked down at the news story on the tablet. It was his comrade. Yep, he’d gone off the rails. Wiley would miss stargazing with his friend. But what could he do when something evil takes control of the mind? He wanted to feel sad, but wouldn’t allow himself the weakness. Sadness served no purpose. There was nothing he could do. His friend would be wandering among the stars now.

“He killed a girl,” the leader said.

So had Wiley, he hoped, and maybe more. “Was she an amber person?”

“Yes.”

“Well, what’s the problem?”

“He lost his glasses.”

The sergeant was a police officer. He knew about all this. He could ask how they knew, but he’d already worked that out.

“Still not sure why it’s a problem. Anyone can buy the glasses off the internet. Many New Agers are into them, but I don’t think too many people have worked out the spiritual connection to the colour of the auras. Besides, he would’ve had them when they got him anyway.”

“But our friend mentioned to the authorities that the person he’d killed was an amber person.”

The leader was an idiot. Once again, Wiley knew where that knowledge had come from.

“Still don’t think they’ll be able to make a connection.”

“Maybe not, but we’ve a slight concern. The detective investigating the death of the amber person and our comrade was seen watching you this morning—watching you hand out your goodies to selected people. I’m sure that’s a memory the detective will recall in the future, if not sooner.”

“Still lots of dots to connect.” A brief surge of energy ran through his body, bringing with it a feeling of unease.

“We decided to take some precautions,” the sergeant said. “The detective visited one of your customers who accepted your freebies this morning. Not sure why, but the timing wasn’t good. He witnessed her approaching death, and possibly saved her life. We added some complexity to the investigation by placing his fingerprints to indicate he’d been there before.”

“Forged his fingerprint?” Wiley was puzzled. “Maybe he had visited this lady before.”

“Our sources doubt that.”

Theirs was a private club. Some would call it a secret society. It gave Wiley a sense of belonging. No one in this group knew what anyone did for a job. There was at least a dozen or so members in this city chapter alone. Minus one. Wiley now suspected those members included a number of police officers.

“So I assume planting the fingerprints was a distraction?”

“Yes,” the sergeant said.

Wiley wasn’t sure if the fingerprint idea was a distraction or an attraction. He had a sense of those ridiculous Police Academy movies creeping into the group. He’d streamed one of the movie reruns recently and wasn’t sure if he enjoyed it or not.

The Great Leader leaned forward. “All things considered, I think we need to back off for a little while.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea? I have a feeling that thing in the sky is going to turn a lot of people amber, if not green. We need to oil the media machinery. They need to push the opposite view. We have a comet heading in the direction of the Earth. They need to ask where’s this God the Christians talk about. He seems happy to kill everybody.”

“That may have people screaming and running to church,” the sergeant said.

“Let’s just chill about this,” the leader said. “I’m sure as the space experts make more observations regarding the asteroid or whatever it is, the impact probability will drop to zero. And the media will be having a ball with this anyway. I’m sure they’ll attack any theories put forward by our Christian friends, but I’ll still have a chat with our connections.”

Wiley had met some of these connections, influencers. They’d been categorised by their own as the progressive left and the cultural elite, both with a pathological hatred of Christians. Everyone feeds off each other.

“But there is one other thing.” the sergeant definitely sounded like a policeman. “They’ll start connecting the dots soon. We need to change our strategy.”

“Do you have another strategy?”

“Yes.”

7 - Fresh food and fingerprints

Good to have a break. A forced break, but so it was. Jack had squeezed in a quick run so was feeling refreshed. Exercise helped him overcome a lack of sleep and the building stress. He was sprawled on his couch, scrolling through the news feed on his phone. There was indeed a bit of excitement regarding the dot in the sky. He tapped one article with the headline: The New Earth or a New Asteroid.

It has been reported that our new visitor in the sky is a recently discovered asteroid but how recent we are unsure. Its orbit has brought it from the dark reaches of our solar system to continue its journey around the sun. Indications are it’s the largest asteroid ever discovered but is not a danger to Earth. The asteroid is approximately 140 million miles away, a similar distance to Mars. Similar-sized asteroids take over 500 years to complete their orbit. Asteroids move very slowly—from an earthly perspective—so we can anticipate seeing our new friend in the sky for some time. But the brightness does have the experts puzzled.

His reading was interrupted by the sound of the door chime. He checked his smart door chime app—it was Cath, so he gave her access. He did a quick tidy scan, grabbed the loose clothing off the couch, threw the clothes into his bedroom, and closed the door. Scanned the rest of his unit. Presentable.

A gentle tap on the door. A quick confirmation through the peek hole. He opened the door.

“Hello partner.” He waved her in. “What brings you to this part of town?”

Cath walked in and headed towards the kitchen stools. Jack moved a used cup to the side, watched her settle, and then made himself comfortable by leaning on the bench. She placed her phone on the counter.

“You, Jack. I need to ask you something.” She looked around the unit and then returned her focus to Jack. “Have you been to Sally’s place before?”

“You mean before the recent event? Uh, no. Why?”

“Could I have an apple? They are fresh?” Her eyes raised in anticipation of a positive response.

He would’ve preferred an answer to his question but held back the impatience. “Yes, you’re in luck. Got them yesterday.” He grabbed the fruit bowl and placed it in front of her.

The sound of her bite confirmed the freshness.

“They found your fingerprints on a cup and glass.”

Jack stood upright. “What?”

“Yep. They’ve been matched up on the database but not yet examined by the fingerprint experts.”

“Then they were forged, Cath. I’m sure the examiner will pick that up.”

“I’m sure they will too. But why would someone forge your prints?”