I sent the second signal at the time Bart, and I had agreed on. I had to send one or two more, and then we were as good as finished. But, if something were to go wrong, everything would collapse. That is why we kept the news channel on while we played an angry game of scrabble.
"IZOO is not a word, Bart! You can't just stick an 'i' in front of my word to gain my points!"
"Well, I'm sure if Apple owned a menagerie, they would call it iZoo. Now, give me my points!"
"No! You may not have MY points! Take my points and, I'll... I'll fire you!" I threatened, throwing a P-tile at Bart.
"You wouldn't-" He started.
"Try me!"
"I know you would never even think of doing-"
"And an update from NASA says that they have received a second message from the same unknown alien life form!" The news presenter said.
I threw my remaining tiles at Bart and clambered onto my bed to grab the remote control to turn the volume up.
"An anonymous source says that they have to be very cautious at this moment because the slightest mistake could lead to world domination! Goodness," while she rambled on I thought about how much spray tan she must have put on that morning. "Anyway," I paid closer attention as she continued, "They say they have abandoned all safety to make sure that they miss absolutely nothing from these beings. Wow!"
"Wow! is right," I muttered.
"Anyway, Phyllis, on with the weather," The presenter winked, and the picture changed to a woman, caked in make-up, standing in front of a map and pointing at random places giving details on 'wind precipitation' in certain areas. I'm pretty sure no one in history has cancelled a picnic due to 'heavy wind precipitation'.
"I think we can send the virus," I said.
"Sol, are you sure? I mean, you said two more," Bart explained while trying to figure out where he should place his next few tiles.
I stood and made my way to the mini-bar and grabbed a tin of Pringles, "You heard the orange woman! She said they have taken down all their security! All of it! Strike them when they're down!"
"Are you sure? I never question you, Sol, but maybe right now-"
"Is this because I'm ahead of you in Scrabble?" I asked, popping a chip in my mouth.
He gave me a hard glare, "I'm joking!" I smiled, "But, Bart, trust me on this one. I think- I know we are ready and they aren't!"
He placed three letters on the board, so that he spelt out 'preface', "Okay. Sorry to burst your bubble, but I have more points than you now."
The next few minutes were spent nursing a Pringle can-shaped bruise on Bart's cheek and apologising, as well as winning at Scrabble.
***
I had readied the virus and I was going to send it as soon as we had finished binge-watching 'L'amour de la cœur'. Just a heads up, always finish something before the public authorities get involved and mess everything up. Also, always delete your browser history before said authorities confiscate your laptop. The reason: shit had just hit the fan and I was yet to realize.
We were watching our dramatic soap when the phone next to Bart's bed rang and interrupted Selina's monologue (she had found out that her identical twin sister had married their secret cousin who was also a spy who had been engaged to Selina's fiancé).
"Bart, pretend to be fighting with me," I said, as I stood.
"What, why?" he asked, pausing the show.
"Maybe then the phone call will be shorter, and we can continue watching," I suggested.
He gave me a thumbs up.
I answered the phone with a melancholy voice, "Hello? Vivian Melbourne speaking."
"Hello Mrs Melbourne," the receptionist answered. I picked up a slight nervousness in her tone, "We have guests done in the reception who want to speak with you."
"Who is it?!" Bart yelled, "That man from 206?" He was quite a good actor.
"They say it's urgent," the receptionist elaborated.
"If you sleep with him again, I swear you'll be signing divorce papers sooner than you thought!" Bart continued to remain in character.
I whispered to him to stop, then spoke into the receiver, "Uh- who is it?"
I heard a voice in the background mutter something to the receptionist.
After a short silence, the woman answered, "They call themselves the FBI."