Chapter 12 – Sagittarius

Tuesday, October 6

I felt clean and full of energy. I struggled not to speed to work until I hit the traffic. While I waited in line behind a semi, I reviewed my wacky dream. The Earth rotates daily. Could that be the cause of the variability in the fire effect?”

I got to my desk, got the latest download of data, and started to work, correlating the phenomenon with the time of day worldwide. I finished entering the starting time and ending time of the effects at each location around the world. I displayed it on a world map and ran the data in a time sequence.

I flashed a red dot when the fire effect showed up. I flashed a green dot when they ceased. I saw a line of red dots begin on the east coast of the US at about one in the afternoon. It swept across the US, up the coast of Canada, and into Alaska. Then Hawaii, Samoa, Tahiti, New Zealand, and Australia flashed red. Meanwhile, green dots appeared on the east coast and slowly spread westward.

Japan, China, Southeast Asia, and India turned red as the green line marched across North America. The red line marched across Europe and Africa and then paused before it hit the east of Brazil and then back across America.

“Well,” I said to myself. “That looks like a global phenomenon coming from outer space. Now, where’s it coming from?”

I located the center of the phenomenon as the effect went around the world. Then I called Misty Alcorn, a specialist in astrophysics. We met as undergraduates at Case Western Reserve University. We hit it off immediately and finished our senior year rooming together off-campus in an apartment on Murray Hill. She majored in astronomy, and I in physics.

“Hi, Misty.”

“Hi, Katie. Let me put you on video. I haven’t heard from you since spring.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy. Oh wow, you cut your hair. It’s so curly!” Misty’s auburn hair made a reddish halo about her head. Her blue eyes looked into my brown ones.

“I got it permed when I cut it. Just a different look.”

“How’s life as a young astronomer?”

“Oh, it’s looking up. What’s new with you?”

“I got an emergency assignment from the President to look into this pants-on-fire phenomenon.”

“I’ve been following that on social media. Some of the clips are pretty funny. Did you see the one about the weather reporter whose skirt blew up when she said, ‘I’m sure it’ll be sunny tomorrow.’?”

“Uh, no. I try to stay off social media. It’s too distracting.”

“When you’re waiting for a computer to compare telescope photos at 3 am, that keeps you from going crazy. Speaking of crazy, tell me about your assignment.”

“I have to find out what’s causing it and how to prevent the fires. It’s completely disrupted all levels of the government.”

“Huh. I didn’t know that. You could never tell from here in Arizona.”

“The cause is when you broadcast any lie, your pants, or pantyhose, or skirts catch on fire.”

Misty began laughing. “That explains the various influencers who videoed themselves catching on fire. I thought it was just a stupid prank.”

“This is where you come in, Misty. It’s a worldwide effect, and it seems to follow the rotation of the Earth.”

“What do you mean?”

“The effect comes and goes depending upon the orientation of the Earth. One-half of the globe has the effect at a time.”

“Ah, I get it. You think this is an extraterrestrial effect.”

“It’s my working theory. I’ve got a database of the effects worldwide and their timing. It peaks at a certain point and affects the whole hemisphere of the Earth at that time.”

“I’d love to look at your data!”

“I figured you would. You always were a data nerd. That’s why I called you. Is your email still [email protected]?”

“Yes. Do you still have your CWRU email?”

“Yeah, but I don’t use it. I have a .gov one. I’ll send you a link to my online folder. Can you identify the potential extraterrestrial sources for this phenomenon?”

“I sure can, at least some of them. We’ve got a whole galaxy out there. I’ll start with the closest sources.”

“I’d be happy with a general direction.”

“Okay. I’ve got your email. And now I’ve got your database. This’ll take some time. I’ve got some work here at the observatory.”

“You’re at the Kitt Peak Observatory in Arizona, right?”

“Yeah. You caught me before I went to sleep. I’ve got the night shift work. I’ll take a look at your database after I get up this evening.”

“Sounds good.”

After we hung up, I started perusing the data that had come in overnight. There were a lot of new data points, especially in Asia and Africa. Politicians in the Americas and Europe were still the focus of fire departments everywhere.

Major businesses had taken to employing small groups of firefighters to follow behind certain employees and spray them down with fire extinguishers. Public relations, customer service, and executives got the most attention. Most people had adapted to this fire hazard and learned to live with it.

However, some political leaders still scoffed and sniffed at the idea they’d catch on fire—until they did.

“It’s not like I haven’t documented this to the President and the news media.” I shook my head.

Washington, DC was still the epicenter of self-conflagration. Small groups of firefighters were kept busy around the clock every time the House or Senate met. Certain politicians got their personal firefighters as they traveled. They needed them especially when they were campaigning for office.

The party or affiliation didn't matter for politicians' pants (and skirts) were constantly bursting into flame.

I smiled as I read about a voters' group that documented political immolations. They used this to compile voting guides for each party. So something good is coming out of this.

I also had hundreds of emails asking me to look into other phenomena. There were too many to read. I quickly skimmed the subjects. A pink dragon sighting in Chicago? No. Just no. Flying cars? Where do these people come from?

Now here’s something. A family in Toledo claimed to have started the whole ‘pants-on-fire’ epidemic.

“This’ll be good,” I smirked to myself as I read the email.

“Huh. They just wished for it? That’s so simple, it’s frightening. I hope that’s not true. How could it be true when it looks like the phenomenon comes from outer space?”

“I’d better contact them and get the straight story. Reporter Shelly Clarke, WNWO, TV 24 in Toledo.” I called the number.

“Hello? WNWO TV 24, how can I help you?”

“I’d like to speak with reporter Shelley Clarke.”

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

“That’s me.”

“Please tell me all about this family who ‘wished’ politicians' pants would catch on fire If they lied.”

“Yes, a father and a son came to me feeling guilty and told me they had wished this just before the governor candidates debate two days ago.”

“I find that hard to believe. I’d like to talk to them directly.”

“I have to protect my sources' anonymity.”

“I’m running an investigation on this phenomenon at the direction of President Lopez. I need to talk to them.”

“Oh, I’ll check with them and see if they want to talk to you. Give me five minutes and I’ll call you back at this number.”

“Okay.”

How could this be? Why would someone claim anything so bizarre? I puzzled over these questions when my phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Katie Garcia?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Phil Kennedy, the father of Sean Kennedy. I’m married to Shirley. We were watching the news Sunday when we all wished that politicians' pants would catch on fire if they lied. Then it happened.”

“Did you do some incantation or invoke some demon?”

“No, it was just a silly wish.”

“I hate to do this, but I’ll have to come to Toledo and conduct some experiments. Where can we meet?”

“You can come over to our house. What time will you meet us?”

“I can get there tonight. Any time tomorrow. What’s your address?”

He gave it to me, and I called and booked my flight.

I barely slept. If it was just a mistake, a lucky coincidence, then I just wasted a flight and a few thousand dollars of the government’s money. But if it really matched up? What then? What could I do? I didn’t know my next step.

And how would either prove or disprove this theory? I fell asleep thinking about possible experiments.

* * *

Wednesday, October 7

My alarm woke me to catch the 6 am flight from Oakridge to Toledo. I hopped on the commuter plane, and we left right on time. I fell asleep immediately since I had barely slept. I didn’t wake up when we landed in Charlotte for a stopover.

I awoke before we landed in Detroit, feeling inexplicably positive. Somehow, I felt I’d get to the bottom of this mystery.

I took my carry-on luggage from the bin and rented a car. I turned on my phone's GPS and put in the Kennedys’ address in Southwyck, a suburb of Toledo.

“Fifty-six miles? Not bad. Fifty-four minutes? I bet I can beat that.” I set off to do just that. Once I got on I-275, I opened it up.

I pulled into the Kennedys’ drive forty-five minutes later. “Good job, Katie!” I felt smug and even more positive about how this would turn out.

I knocked on the front door, and a broad-shouldered man of about forty answered. He smiled, and his brown eyes crinkled. “You must be Katie Garcia. You got here faster than I expected. I’m Phil Kennedy. C’mon in.”

I pulled my travel bag in with me. I seated myself on the sofa while Phil sat in an easy chair. “I got here as quickly as I could. I left first thing this morning from Oakridge. If your explanation can be proven, then my project is complete.”

“Huh. I’m not sure how you can prove this. It just happened.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been thinking about since I read Shelley’s email. That’s why I brought this.”

I opened my travel bag and took out my fireproof underwear and a pack of cheap skirts I bought at a discount store. “Here are the tools of my trade—at least for this project.”

“Uh, clothing?”

“Clothing’s essential for testing bursting into flames. Do you have a fireproof area around your house or yard?”

“Sure. We can put you in or next to the fire pit in the backyard. That’s all stone and brick.”

“Great. Let me get dressed.”

“I’ll call Sean.” Phil went downstairs while I went to the bathroom to change.”

I went out the back door to the yard, wearing my long insulated underwear under my pink, polyester skirt. They clashed. The things I did for science. I sighed.

Phil started to smirk when he saw me, while Sean, a slender middle-schooler, gaped at me. Phil covered his mouth and cleared his throat.

I ignored their reactions. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. First, I’ll test to make sure the phenomenon happens as usual. I’ll read some political speeches that led to fiery outbursts.”

I read from my phone: “As your candidate for Congress, I promise to undo all the policies of my predecessor, who was a miserable failure.” Naturally, my skirt blazed into flame and melted into a gooey black mess on my underwear. At least it didn’t clash anymore.

“You okay?” Sean asked as he eyed the smoking ruins dripping down my gray insulation.

“Yeah. I’m used to this by now. That was a success. We’ve verified that the phenomenon is still in effect. Now, on to experiment two.”

I pulled out another skirt, one a purple and green plaid. I saw why they were on sale as I pulled the cheap fabric over my underwear.

“What’s the next experiment?” Phil asked.

“Just wish that this doesn’t happen to me. Even when I lie, wish that my skirt doesn’t catch on fire. You and Sean were the two wishing, right?”

“Right. Sean, why don’t you do the wish, like you did the first time?”

“Uh, okay. Let me think about what I said.” He frowned and then said, “Wouldn’t it be great if Katie’s pants didn’t catch on fire if she lied?”

Phil furrowed his brows and then said, “Yes! I’d love that!” Then he smiled.

Sean smiled. “That’s what I wish for then.”

I scrolled to the next political speech, “I guarantee my economic policies will lead to an economic turnaround—“ I didn’t even finish the sentence, and my green and purple plaid flamed up.

It quickly burned itself out, leaving a greasy black stain on my underwear.

“Huh. I’m sorry, Ms. Garcia. I thought this’d work.”

I sighed, looking at my skuzzy underwear. “Me too. This was the only experiment I thought of that could verify that it was your wish that did this.”

“Hmm.” Phil rubbed his chin. “We didn’t quite replicate our wish.” He turned and ran into the house.

“What’s different, Sean?”

“All I can think of is—“

“Ta-da! Here she is! Our last wisher, Shirley Kennedy!” I saw a slender woman in jeans and a blouse following Phil.

“Okay, someone tell me what’s going on. Why is our visitor standing in the backyard wearing dirty underwear?”

“It’s simple, Mrs. Kennedy—“

“Call me Shirley.”

“Surely. We tried to undo your wish about setting pants on fire for just me. Phil and Sean wished it wouldn’t happen to me—but it did. Now, I’m down to my last skirt, and we want to replicate the original wish—of which you were a part. An essential part, it seems.”

“Okay. So we just wish like we did the other night?” She put her hands on her hips.

“Yup. Right after I pull this on.” A red and green monstrosity went over my hips. It was too small and fit like a miniskirt.

“Let’s try this again. Sean?” Phil looked at his son.

“Wouldn’t it be great if Katie’s pants didn’t catch on fire if she lied?” He spoke like he was reading a script.

“Yes! I’d love that!” Phil looked at his wife.

“Katie wouldn’t catch on fire then.” Shirley looked at me expectantly.

“Next speech. “ I focused on my phone. “‘I promise the fine citizens of this city, the tax increase will be used to improve your schools and police force.’”

The skirt remained on my hips in all its ugliness.

“And furthermore, if elected mayor, I’ll root out corruption and inefficiency.” I continued to read the speech.

Phil grinned, “And there’ll be a chicken in every pot.”

His pants burst into flame.

I quickly put them out with my portable fire extinguisher. I never conduct pants-on-fire experiments without it.

“Whew! Thanks, Katie. I’d better put another pair of pants on. He ran into the house in his heart-covered boxer shorts.

“You’re looking a little threadbare,” Shirley called after him, grinning at his retreating derriere.

“Surely, I bared my soul, for science!” Phil called from the door.

“Is that what you call it?” Shirley laughed.

I chuckled, and Sean said, “Wow. This was the first time I saw the pants-on-fire effect in person. I see why you wear that underwear, Ms. Garcia.”

“Call me Katie. Ms. Garcia is my mother. I’m only thirty.” I sat down on the patio furniture and began typing on my tablet.

“What are you typing?” Sean asked.

“My observations and conclusions. We needed all three of you to undo the wish that all three of you made. It worked on me, but not on Phil, so this wasn’t just a coincidence. Now, I’d like all three of you to wish this away worldwide.”

“I don’t think that’ll work,” said Shirley.

“Why not?” I looked at her, puzzled.

“I don’t want to undo the effect. I want everyone to tell the truth. I think Phil does too.”

“I want what too?” Phil asked as he came back wearing blue jeans.

“You want everyone to tell the truth.”

“Yeah, I do. At least our politicians.”

“And I don’t know if I could truthfully wish this away either,” Sean said. “I like seeing liars burst into flame.”

“Even me?” Phil asked his son.

“Well, no, of course not, Dad. But you weren’t really lying—you were just quoting a political promise.”

“Like I was,” I said. “I didn’t really believe what I was saying, but the fact that I said it to other people activated this wish of yours. Let me get all this down.” I resumed typing.

“Are we going to get into trouble for starting this?”

“I don’t think so. People won’t believe me or you. No one can be prosecuted for wishing. But you bring up a good question—what should I say to my boss? We found the cause of the problem, but we can’t undo it. Let me think about how to put lipstick on this pig.”

I paused quietly. Everyone looked at me. “Okay. This phenomenon, once activated, cannot easily be undone. I burned myself trying to undo it. Only a second combined effort by you three removed the effect on one person. No one would expect you to do this for each person around the world.” I typed that up. “That’s what I’ll report.

Phil smiled. “I’ll wish you don’t get into trouble.”

“Nor us,” added Shirley.

“Me too,” Sean said.

I finished typing and said, “Sounds like we’re locked in for success, based on your earlier wish.”

My phone rang. It showed Misty Alcorn. “Hi, Katie. Boy, o boy, that data set you sent me was fascinating!”

“So, what’s the bottom line? Do you have any results?”

“Do I have results for you! Your worldwide effect comes from Sagittarius.”

“Any particular star or nebula?” I knew there was a cloud of gas within that constellation.

“Yes, I can trace it on a direct path to the galactic core, to the black hole there.”

“So what does that mean?”

“This worldwide effect probably comes from the middle of the galaxy, possibly some emanation from the accretion disk of the black hole.”

“Was there any kind of flare-up from the black hole?”

“We can’t really see it in normal light. We can detect gravitational waves and radio waves, as well as infrared. Nothing showed up on infrared, radio, or gravitational.”

“How would we prove this is the source?”

“We have to detect some radiation from there that started last Monday. I’m checking through the data from observatories and satellites around the world. I even checked the gravimetric sensor in Antarctica, but nothing so far.”

“Thanks, Misty for trying. But this doesn’t really prove anything.”

“Other than an extraterrestrial source from the direction of Sagittarius.”

“Or an unrelated coincidence.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“Prove it, Misty.”

“You’re on.”