“Madam President, what they’re doing is very impressive. We might think that a phrase like Must come leader of Earth sounds clunky, but a linguist will tell you that it’s remarkable. They could have done much worse, like Go for leader Earth on must. We don’t know how much intellect or technology they are devoting to this—it could be one alien with super-genius levels of intellect or thousands of aliens on their home planet using a mind-blowing array of machine-learning equipment—or something we can’t even imagine. But at the rate they’re going, I won’t be surprised if they reach the level of proficiency required for efficient conversations in just a few days.”
“But do we even have the technology necessary to conduct a conversation in real time?” Garcia asked. “Even if we were sitting face to face with them, wouldn’t we need some portable device to broadcast and receive signals in Hermes, and then have some way to translate them into to English? I’m trying to imagine how it would work.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Garcia. I wasn’t being clear” Art replied. “I didn’t mean to suggest it would be through some handheld Hermes broadcast and translation system. I meant that, by the time Sunday rolls around, they should be able to talk to us without needing any numeric broadcast signals at all. We would be speaking directly in English. I don’t expect it will be oral communication; we don’t even know if they can speak. But we should be able to send typed messages to each other. Let’s remember, they’re already using a laptop and typing in English to search the internet. If we send them another laptop, this one with messaging software, and provide some basic instructions, there’s no reason to think we can’t start having real-time conversations as soon as they’ve mastered the language itself. And that will happen very soon.”
“Incredible,” reflected Nielsen. “We need to start preparing for that conversation.”
“Madam President,” said Strauss, “I suggest we start thinking a few steps farther ahead. We can’t just wait to see what happens in our discussions with them—we must acknowledge the possibility that negotiations will only buy us some additional time. Their treatment towards our fallen soldiers was more than commendable, but their recent message is difficult to construe in a positive light. We must begin readying for potential conflict. I’m not suggesting war is preferred or winnable, but we must nevertheless be prepared for it—if only as a last resort.”
No one disagreed, and Whitman gave the marching orders.
“Art, I want progress on communication, and I want an analysis of ET-1’s internet activity. Strauss, by tomorrow evening, I want an update on each of the six areas the DoD has been working on: possibilities for deterrence, defending the homeland, coordinating with the alliance, fighting in space, how to protect our citizens if they attack population centers, and guerilla warfare—if that’s what it comes to. Be sure to talk with Secretary Rao and Dr. Menon about their latest estimates on the likely extent of alien capabilities.
“Plan A is to avoid a war, at almost any cost. But there are limits to what we will accept. Plan B is war—but I am still a realist. I don’t like our chances against a technologically superior enemy that occupies the high ground and is willing to pick a fight. If we discover that winning is not an option, we will fight all the same—if only to survive—which is why we need to know the level of resistance we can sustain if they do take the planet. I’m not asking easy questions, and I’m not giving you much time, but some analysis is better than none. Come to me with options and tradeoffs.
“Salvo, I want to speak with Congressional leaders before 5 p.m. today—and with the international alliance right after that. I will make a statement to the nation later tonight or tomorrow morning.
“Now, let’s talk about the elephant in the room. Assuming we understood them correctly, we need to respond to their demand that we send two ambassadors. We can inform them that there is no such thing as a ‘leader of Earth.’ And sending an international delegation at this stage would be a disaster. The way I see it, either the alliance agrees to let me represent everyone, or we explain to ET-1 that I am willing to talk, but that I don’t represent the whole planet. Either way, I am the ambassador, and we need to figure out how I will communicate with them.”
Everyone agreed that sending Whitman to ET-1 was off the table. The president could not be allowed to take such a risk. A better alternative would be to use whatever system Art created for real-time conversations from a distance. Earth-side could propose that such a conversation take place in a few days.
“And what about the second ambassador?” General Allen asked. “What do we do about the demand that we send them Professor Kilmer?”
“That one is easier,” Whitman replied. “We all agree that there is a misunderstanding on their part, even if we can’t figure out exactly why it happened. We can tell them that they picked the wrong guy—or we can simply ignore the request and see if they insist. Once they have access to me, it might not matter.”
Kilmer spoke up. “That means we’ll be rejecting both of their demands. They’ve asked for two ambassadors to ‘enter ET-1’—if neither of us does, that might not go over well. We can’t risk sending the president, obviously, but if they want me to come, whether as a misunderstanding or not, that’s a demand we can meet. And it’s a risk we should be willing to take.”
Whitman rejected the idea. “I’m not sending you into who-knows-what just because they asked for you. You’re not even a soldier, Professor. And I won’t throw away anyone’s life over a misunderstanding.”
Kilmer tried again. “But we have to be willing to take some risks. And consider the potential benefits: it could be the best chance we have of learning something of value.”
Whitman put an end to it. “I’m not ready to take that step, Professor. The plan remains as follows. We say no to both requests—but we explain why that is. There is no leader of Earth, and D. Kilmer is of no value to them. The American president will talk to them, but not inside ET-1. That’s our response.”
Kilmer was frustrated with the president’s decision. Adding constraints when there was already so little room to maneuver was a bad idea. He would have to try and change Whitman’s mind about it. Lucky for him, he had a bit of leverage on the issue.
He looked at Silla, and she responded with a smile. He could see she was relieved that Whitman had overruled his suggestion. He tried to smile back, but he couldn’t do it. He had a secret—and she wasn’t going to like it. The president’s decision on sending him to see ET-1 notwithstanding, D. Kilmer was headed to Station Zero.
~ 66 ~
Whitman asked Kilmer to stick around after the meeting ended to discuss how things were going. Kilmer told her that he agreed with Strauss on the need to accelerate preparations for war. It was the approach Prime Minister Rabin had advocated during the Oslo peace process: fight terrorism like there is no negotiation, and negotiate peace like there is no terrorism. “There is a risk, of course. The more you prepare for war, the easier it is to find yourself at war. But it’s a risk worth taking here.”
“I’m heartened that Strauss, you, and I are on the same page for once,” Whitman reflected. “That’s a good sign.”
“It is, although it’s hard to know how long it will last. So far, the only line you’ve drawn is that you will choose war over slavery or annihilation. What happens if the aliens offer a deal that is less harsh than slavery, but still terrible? If the alternative is a war that kills millions or billions of people, will you and Strauss agree on whether to fight? And if we go to war, will the two of you agree on when to stop or surrender? We haven’t had to tackle such debates yet, thankfully, but it might come to that. And if it does, it won’t just be you and Strauss who disagree. We might have seven billion points of view on what to do.”
“Then we better find a way out of this before it gets to that point,” Whitman concluded.
“Yes, ma’am. Which brings me to a point I would like to raise.”
“You want to go to Station Zero.”
“Yes.”
“Even though allowing you to go there doesn’t mean I’m sending you to ET-1.”
“I hope you’ll reconsider that as well. Worrying about me when there’s so much at stake is a bad idea. And it’s exactly the kind of thing that Strauss or Druckman might use to paint you as unfit to lead in a crisis. They’ll say you’re responsible for hundreds of millions of people, and you can’t even stomach putting one of them at risk.”
Whitman smiled at that—but the expression conveyed none of its usual warmth.
“I can do the math, Professor. Saving the many is more important than saving one. I’m familiar with the concept. And, excuse me for being blunt, but I would sacrifice you in a second if I really thought it would help save the country. But even then, I wouldn’t do it before I was sure there was no other option. I believe I owe it to the troops under my command—and to the people I serve as president—to never forget that my job is to protect each one, and not just everyone. You’re lucky if you don’t understand that distinction, Professor—it means you’ve never had to send someone to their death. Be thankful for that. So, does this mark me as sentimental? Maybe. Is it a sign of weakness? I don’t know. But does it matter what Strauss thinks about it? Absolutely not. It’s either the right thing to do or the wrong thing to do. That’s it.”
Whitman moved a step closer to Kilmer and locked eyes with him. “I have asked people to lay down their lives for our country many times, Professor. And I’ll do it again—many more times. But I will never be bullied into making such a decision. Not by Strauss. Not by Druckman. Not by ET-1. And not by you.”
Kilmer stood frozen—and awestruck. He had misjudged Whitman on at least a few dimensions.
“I’m sorry, Madam President. I was being extremely presumptive. I was out of line and out of my depth.”
“You were. But no apology is necessary. Now, let’s get back to your request. When do you want to go to Station Zero?”
“As soon as I can. Tomorrow, if possible.”
“Okay, Professor. We’ll get you there by tomorrow evening. As for sending you to ET-1—I don’t see the urgency. I’m not ready to give in to ET-1’s every demand just yet.”
“I understand, Madam President.”
~ 67 ~
Heirs of Herodotus by D. Kilmer.
Excerpt from Chapter 8.
“Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate.” That was the counsel JFK gave to his fellow citizens during his inaugural address in 1961. His statement identifies two risks. First, that we might do absolutely anything to avoid war. Second, that we might do nothing at all to avoid war. Both extremes are problematic, of course.
But JFK was not giving two pieces of advice. He was giving only one. That becomes clear when the two statements are read together. Kennedy lived at a time where he felt the pendulum had swung too far in one direction—that there was too much resistance to the idea of sitting down with our enemies. Had he lived in different times—had he felt the pendulum had swung in the other direction—he might have said, instead: “Let us never fear to negotiate. But let us never negotiate out of fear.” All the same words—but when inverted, they take on an entirely different meaning.
The thing with pendulums is that they swing in both directions. And the thing with leaders is that they do not always know how far pendulums can continue to swing in one direction before a correction will be forced upon them by the laws of nature.
The challenge of leadership often boils down to one simple question: Are we doing too much, or not enough? And every so often—albeit rarely—the future of humanity depends on answering this question correctly.
~ 68 ~
Kilmer walked into the Treaty Room and found Silla sitting on the couch, in the very spot where she had fallen asleep nearly a week earlier. This was where they had first talked for hours. This was where they had first kissed. He had known her for only a few hours when all of that took place, but he had been drawn to every aspect of her. Now, just six days later, they had spent more time together than he would have spent with someone over many months, in normal circumstances. And it felt like they had known each other for years.
As he sat down next to her, Silla reached for his hand. “Okay, Kilmer. You said you wanted to talk. What’s on your mind? And how are you such a celebrity that people from distant galaxies are wanting to meet you?”
Kilmer shook his head. “I think it’s ridiculous. And to be honest, it gives me pause. Maybe the aliens really have no idea what they’re doing. They might be savvy technologically, but they’re really floundering if they think I’m someone they need to meet. Makes you wonder what other mistakes they’ll end up making—which is not a comforting thought when even a slight misunderstanding could blow things up. I take solace in the fact that they’ve also done a few things to suggest this isn’t a completely zero-sum game for them. If we’re lucky, it will be enough to carry the day.”
“Is that what you want me to believe so I won’t be upset about you trying to hand yourself over to ET-1?”
“Are you upset?”
“I was—but only because I thought you were being impulsive. It doesn’t matter now. If you agree that ET-1 is making a mistake, it means there’s no reason for you to go.”
“I’m not sure that’s true. As I said to the president, even if they’ve picked the wrong person, saying no is risky. Better for them to meet me and discover on their own that they made a mistake. Not to mention, there’s a lot of potential upside to saying yes. We might learn something. That’s what Operation Churchill is all about. Figuring out what—”
“Kilmer, I hope you’re not seriously considering going into that spacecraft. That’s just madness.”
“No, it’s not. I made you a promise, Silla—that I would do everything I could. I’m going to keep that promise.”
“I don’t care about the stupid promise.”
“Fine. You don’t have to care about the promise. But think about why I made it. Not just for you or me—but for everyone. If I have to walk into ET-1 to convince, threaten, or beg them not to blow us all up—if that’s what it takes—I will do it in a heartbeat. I don’t see any other choice. Wouldn’t you do the same?”
“Let’s just agree to disagree. Either way, I’m glad you’re not shipping off to Station Zero.”
“I’m sorry, Silla. But I am going to Station Zero. The President has agreed to send me there tomorrow.”
“She what? She thinks it’s a good idea for you to be there?”
“No, she doesn’t think it’s a good idea. She sees it more like you do, actually.”
“Then why is she sending you? I don’t understand.”
“Well, I guess I can be quite convincing,” Kilmer smiled. “Maybe that will come in handy with the aliens—if the president allows me to meet with them.”
“This is ridiculous. Kilmer, you’re not thinking clearly. It’s a misunderstanding.”
He took a deep breath. “Silla, whatever happens, I want you to know that I’ll be careful. The president didn’t need to remind me that I’m no soldier. I don’t have their skills and I don’t have their courage. And I won’t pretend that this doesn’t scare me… It does. A whole hell of a lot.”
Silla shifted toward him, closing some of the distance that had crept in while they were arguing.
“But I still have to do this, Silla. You understand that, don’t you? I need to get to Station Zero in case it becomes necessary to send me to ET-1.”
“I’m not letting you go unless you promise that you’ll come back to me—no matter what.”
Kilmer smiled. “I promise you that I’ll try—no matter what.”
She put her arms around him. That, he realized, was what he needed to somehow bottle up and take with him—so that he might revisit this feeling whenever he was afraid. The danger was the same. The fear remained. But he knew he wasn’t alone—and that made a difference.
“There’s something I need to tell you,”
he finally said.
“More secrets? My lucky day.”
“Don’t worry, this one won’t make you doubt my sanity. At least I hope not. It’s just that… well, with everything that’s going on, and all the craziness, it’s… I think it’s very easy to lose sight of what’s right in front of us. And I just want you to know that I haven’t. That I haven’t lost sight of it. Of what’s right in front of me, I mean… Of you.”
He paused. Silla didn’t say anything.
“Of us, to be more precise,” he added.
“I see. And what exactly is us?” she asked.
“I don’t know. But it’s something extraordinary.”
She nodded. “Oh. And that’s what you wanted to say?”
“Well… yes. And that it’s really hard for me to be leaving you.”
She nodded again. “Okay. Is that it?”
“I… I think so,” Kilmer said, feeling terribly unsure. “Do you… well, do you feel the same way?”
“What way is that?”
This was not going well at all. “The way I do.”
“You mean, is it hard for me that you’re leaving?”
“Yes.”
Silla laughed. “Yes, Kilmer, it is. It’s very hard for me to see you leave.” Then she kept laughing.
Kilmer was perplexed. “Then why are you laughing?”
“Because,” she replied, laughing even louder now, “you’re just so unbelievably bad at this.”
He frowned. “I’m just trying to tell you how I feel.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I know.” She tried to control her laughter. “It’s just that you really suck at it.”
“Well, you’re not making it any easier. It’s like you’re enjoying this—watching me stumble through it.”
“I am. And I shouldn’t. But I’m just used to seeing you wordsmith everything so well. It’s fun to watch you struggle with something so simple.”
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