XX: A Novel, Graphic by Rian Hughes

Author:Rian Hughes [Hughes, Rian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781529020595
Google: -iXADwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Pan Macmillan
Published: 2020-08-19T23:00:00+00:00

GODS WITHOUT CHARIOTS

“That happened faster than I’d anticipated.” Nixon was looking at indistinct footage of a fluted dish, some three metres in diameter, hovering over the Atacama desert. Perfectly stationary, it cast a crisp shadow on the altiplano. A mop of violet strands hung below, stopping a metre shy of the ground. Finer hairs fringed its periphery, some curling up like eyelashes. Whoever had filmed the footage was instructing his associate to run repeatedly through the apparition; it was apparent that he was the only one who could see it.

Harriet immediately left her render and came over. “What is this?”

“It’s on YouTube. It looks like someone’s managed to repurpose a pair of glasses – they’re not Depthcharges, but they look very similar. I think these guys are from one of the Brazilian AI teams.”

“Shit.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

Whoever was recording the footage turned their head. There was a blurred shot of a booted foot, then a fleeting glimpse of a holdall with cables leading from it, and then the view swung around and up again. In the background the foothills of the Andes could be seen, washed to a pale heliotrope by distance. The autofocus struggled to correct itself, sharpening and defocusing repeatedly. Finally, it settled.

Stretching to the horizon in each direction were hundreds more creatures, arranged in row upon row over the rugged landscape. The ground below them was polka-dotted with shadows. On the soundtrack, whoops and shouts could be heard.

Jack leaned in. “Where are they?”

Nixon checked the location stamp. “Peru.”

“Hah. I guess it’s entirely appropriate. Erich von Däniken reckoned the Nazca lines were landing strips for flying saucers. They didn’t bring their transportation with them, but look – the aliens finally did arrive!”

“Do you see anything moving? Other than the guys filming this, I mean.”

“You mean like our DMEn?” Nixon squinted, moved closer to the screen. “Nooo . . . I don’t think so.”

“So no Oxbow.”

“The glasses are expensive, but they’re freely available. The Oxbow – I wrote that.” Jack allowed himself a self-congratulatory smile. “I don’t think anyone else could have come up with it.”

“But they can see the Grid. This is going to spread fast.”

The news seemed to have pitched Nixon into an uncharacteristically reflective mood. He looked sombre. “Uhm. Something Girl 21 said got me thinking. Is this . . . good?”

“What?” Harriet wondered if Nixon’s rare lapses into soul-searching introspection revealed some deeper aspect to his character that he had managed to keep well hidden.

“See, we have all manner of virus software on our computers to prevent rogue code getting in. Yet we have no protection whatsoever for our greatest asset, our greatest weakness – our brains. We have an open-door policy.” Jack looked up from the video and studied him. His eyebrows drew down.

“Remember that kid at school who had found his dad’s porn stash, and would charge twenty pence per magazine to lend it to you overnight? Remember how you couldn’t get those images out of your head?”

“I’m not ancient like you, remember? Pre-internet porn .

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