And suddenly, it clicked.
Whitman was in the middle of making a point, but Kilmer didn’t bother to wait.
“I’m sorry, everyone. I don’t mean to interrupt. Or, rather, I do mean to interrupt.”
Everyone turned to look at him.
“I just got an email,” he said. “It was sent to my university account. And I’m pretty sure it’s from Archidamus.”
~ 115 ~
Agents Capella and Silla were asked to join the meeting, and Kilmer showed everyone the message. There was no greeting or salutation of any kind. It said only the following.
A letter from you calls up recollections very dear to my mind. It carries me back to the times when, beset with difficulties and dangers, we were fellow laborers in the same cause, struggling for what is most valuable.
“What the hell does that mean?” Strauss asked. “And what makes you think Archidamus wrote it?”
“Actually, Mr. Secretary, Archidamus didn’t write it,” said Kilmer. “Thomas Jefferson wrote it. What I mean to say is, Archidamus sent me this email, but he was quoting something Jefferson wrote over two hundred years ago. These words are from a letter he wrote to John Adams in 1812. Adams and Jefferson were close friends, but over time, as you probably know, they became fierce political rivals. When Jefferson defeated Adams for the presidency in 1800, their friendship seemed lost forever. They had no more correspondence for a dozen years. But then, in 1812, after both had retired from public life, Adams sent Jefferson a letter. That one act revived their friendship, and they exchanged over 150 letters in the fourteen years that followed. Those letters are a treasure trove for historians. The words in this email are from Jefferson’s response to the first letter that Adams sent to him. It was Jefferson hinting that he, too, was ready to rekindle their lost friendship.”
“And you recognized this as a quote from one of Jefferson’s letters?” Nielsen asked.
“The words looked familiar, but I don’t think I would have figured it out if not for the none-too-subtle hint: the sender’s email address. It says [email protected].”
“What makes you think it’s Archidamus?” Whitman asked.
“I can’t be sure, of course. But what are the odds that I would receive an email like this, with these sentiments, within two hours of asking Archidamus to restart our correspondence?”
“Fair point,” Nielsen agreed. “Still, why the subterfuge? Why not use our messaging system? And why not sign it?”
“The obvious explanation is that he’s unwilling or unable to communicate openly. That might also be why he made it such a point to denounce our relationship earlier. Maybe I’m a persona non grata in his world. Or maybe the aliens aren’t allowing anyone to communicate with Earth-side anymore. Or, maybe, he has a different agenda than those around him. He hinted during my conversation with him in Touchdown-1 that not everyone on their side was on the same page.”
“So Archidamus is opening up a back channel with you,” Strauss said. “To what end, do you suppose?”
“Maybe he wants to help. Maybe he’s against the war. Maybe he didn’t like what they did to me. Maybe it’s something else. But I don’t see any reason not to pursue this.”
“I agree,” said Whitman quickly. “We need to respond. Let’s try to find out if it’s really him. Let’s cultivate the relationship. And let’s learn as much as we can.”
Kilmer crafted a response and—with everyone’s approval—sent it via his email.
If this is who I believe it to be, I am delighted to renew our correspondence. Do you still consider us fellow laborers in the same cause? Do you consider it a lost cause, as you once did? Are you able to help?
The response came within a few minutes.
It is not yet time for you to give a Funeral Oration, friend. And I am willing to help—as I always have been. But I can do very little. I can only tell you what you already know.
Kilmer smiled. “It’s him. And he’s very good at this. He’s answering two questions in one—identifying himself and letting us know there’s still hope. Funeral Oration refers to the famous speech that Pericles—leader of the Athenians and friend of Archidamus—gave at the end of the first year of the Peloponnesian War. It commemorated the dead, extolled the greatness of Athens, and inspired the survivors to fight on for their righteous cause. The Gettysburg Address is similar, in both content and structure, and Lincoln probably took inspiration from Pericles.”
“What about the last line?” Art asked. “How does it help us if he can only tell you what you already know?”
“I’m wondering the same thing.”
Kilmer sent a reply—again, with the president’s approval.
Your help is appreciated, but my memory does not serve me too well these days. I think you expect me to remember more than I do. I don’t quite understand what is happening or what to do about it.
The response came soon after.
You know enough. Potsdam is upon us. Tehran you know. Only Yalta is lost. But you have the means to decipher the three Ptolemaic decrees you issued there.
Kilmer sat looking at the message—utterly speechless. The others around him started to ask questions, but he ignored them. Instead, as if in a trance, he typed out another short message and sent it.
Four. Not three.
The noise around him stopped, as everyone turned to look at the screen. The response came back in seconds.
Only three. You did not issue a fourth.
“Please explain, Professor,” Whitman said.
Kilmer leaned back in his chair. He decided to start with what was easiest to understand. “Archidamus and I must have spoken while I was in ET-1. He must have been there, or he was involved in some other way. The reference to those cities is clear. During World War II, the allies—the US, UK, and Russia—met three times to discuss strategy and coordination. Once in Tehran, then in Yalta, and finally in Potsdam. The Tehran meeting refers to my first conversation with Archidamus—which was held remotely, and for which we have transcripts. Potsdam is the third meeting—that is what we are having right now. Yalta was the second—the one for which I have no memory. It must refer to what happened in ET-1.”
“And the Ptolemaic decrees? Is that some reference to what the allies agreed to at Yalta?”
“No. It refers to something else entirely—the Rosetta Stone. It was found during Napoleon’s campaigns in Egypt, sometime around 1800. Inscribed on the tablet were decrees issued two thousand years earlier, during the Ptolemaic dynasty in Ancient Egypt. The decrees were written not only in Greek, but also in two forms of Egyptian writing. The stone tablet allowed scholars to finally decipher hieroglyphics, which were mostly untranslated until then.
“I believe Archidamus is referring to the messages on my arm—those are the decrees. Those are the hieroglyphics. And he’s right—only I’m supposed to have the key to deciphering them.”
Silla spoke for everyone who had suddenly understood the implication. “He knows that you wrote those things?”
“Apparently… yes.”
“And what’s the debate regarding three versus four? Do you think he missed the one on your other arm?”
Kilmer shook his head. “No. I don’t think that’s it at all. I think he’s right. I only issued three decrees, not four.” Kilmer paused, feeling oddly vulnerable. “I don’t think I wrote the fourth message. I think Archidamus did.”
The silence that followed was palpable.
It was Kilmer who finally broke it. “That explains the handwriting. It was unrecognizable, but not because I wrote it with my left hand. It’s because I didn’t write it at all. That also explains why I can’t make any sense of it.”
Without waiting for approval, Kilmer sent another email.
Will you help me with the fourth?
Yes. But now is not the time. It is not important at this moment.
Can you say anything about the other three? I’m struggling with at least one—and it might be the key.
/> Certain risks even I cannot take, came the reply. And I cannot say more right now. I will try to write again. In the meantime, I’m afraid the crossing of rivers is likely to continue.
Everyone watched Kilmer, awaiting his interpretation. He looked back at them with an expression that suggested he was hoping one of them had an answer.
“Well, one thing is clear,” said Director Druckman. “This Archidamus, if that is indeed who it is, is going out on a limb by doing things that are incriminating. He’s trying not to write anything that might be too damning. If we found that one of our people had initiated a conversation like this with a Russian counterpart, we would know immediately that we were dealing with a spy. But could we prove that our agent had shared state secrets? That would be harder. We would be able to prove that laws had been broken, but it would be difficult to pin the highest of crimes on a traitor who engaged in a dialogue like this one.”
“Of course, if a Russian or Chinese or Iranian agent did this for us, we would consider them heroes,” Art mused.
“That’s right, Art. Because we’re the good guys,” Druckman reminded him.
Art shrugged. “Maybe we should just agree that anyone who’s trying to prevent a war is a good guy.”
Whitman jumped in. “Let’s get back to the message. The crossing of rivers—is that a way of saying that the aliens will continue to attack? Does it have some other meaning?”
Kilmer wasn’t sure. Nor was anyone else. The discussion continued for another few minutes, but without much progress.
And then, just before 11:30, all the phones in the room started to buzz.
~ 116 ~
Heirs of Herodotus by D. Kilmer.
Excerpt from Chapter 12.
Every so often, history reveals that it has a flair for the dramatic. Or, perhaps, those are just the moments we remember. Mindful of that potential for bias, the historian is warned not to read too deeply into such episodes—or to look too closely into them for meaning. But none of this prohibits the student of history—or even a scholar—from marveling at the poetry of it all, or from finding in it some inspiration and joy.
The two Founding Fathers who outlived most others—Thomas Jefferson and John Adams—were both giants during the Revolution and icons of the decades that followed. They rekindled their lost friendship in 1812, and then sustained a storied correspondence until they died 14 years later. Adams was 90. Jefferson was 83. Remarkably, they both died on the same day. Even more remarkably, it was the 50th anniversary of the birth of their nation.
On Independence Day, July 4, 1826, when Adams lay dying in his home, he did not know that his friend had died earlier that same morning. Adams’s last words were an homage to his friend—the person he hoped might carry on the remarkable legacy of the Founding Fathers a little while longer.
The final words he spoke offered a simple, yet eloquent tribute…
“Jefferson survives.”
~ 117 ~
At 11:30 a.m., the team learned about two additional attacks. One was on a military installation of the Central Theater Command, located in China’s Hebei province. The other was on an oil refinery in eastern Canada. Both the Chinese and Canadians had resisted retaliation.
At 2:00 p.m., there was an attack in India, at an air force facility of the Western Air Command, in the city of Chandigarh. The Indians did not retaliate.
At 3:00, the death toll, across all attacks over the two days, was estimated to be between 12,000 and 18,000.
At 5:00, Whitman gave her daily address to the nation, but this time with members of both political parties at her side. She announced bipartisan support for her administration’s effort to forge a national and international strategy for addressing the crisis. She warned that attacks on the United States were possible and asked her fellow Americans to remain strong—and calm—even as they prepared for things to get worse before they got better. Whitman alluded to the idea that strategic patience might be a necessary component of Earth-side strategy, at least early on, but that neither the Americans nor their “brothers and sisters around the globe” would allow the aliens to act with impunity.
The speech went about as well as could be expected—which was not an especially high bar.
A nationwide curfew was considered, but Whitman decided against issuing one. The aliens had not yet targeted major cities, and it was far from obvious that people would be safer indoors in any case. In the attacks on military bases, even those soldiers who had been in basements had perished. Instead, the governors of all fifty states, in coordination with the National Guard, the Army, and the Department of Homeland Security, readied their emergency evacuation plans. The presumption was that run would be more effective than hide if the bombings spread to large population centers in the US, and that the de-densification of cities might become necessary.
Some restrictions, however, did go into effect. Drones and private aircraft were prohibited from flying within three miles of alien spacecraft. A plan to ration gasoline was implemented. Launching a projectile or aiming a laser at an alien spacecraft became a criminal offense.
Out on the street, people were terrified. There were mass demonstrations in most major cities, and riots in many, causing four US states and three dozen cities to issue curfews of their own. Protesters were demanding everything from greater transparency, to a declaration of war against the aliens, to federally mandated national prayer. Panic-buying and the hoarding of food and other essentials, which had started on Day 16 but had since declined, was now returning to peak levels.
From the start, Whitman’s administration had worked closely with state and local governments, as well as the private sector, to prepare for the situation that now prevailed. For the time being, at least, the defense industrial base, as well as the broader supply chain, appeared secure. Whether these would hold up once the country was in a state of war remained unknown, but it was considered highly unlikely.
Gun purchases were at record highs, as was activity on social media and attendance in houses of worship. Airlines were still operating, but demand was at record lows; with an alien invasion on the horizon, both business and leisure had started to seem like irrelevant constructs. The market had been trading only intermittently since Day 16, the day of its first big crash; after a much bigger crash on Day 58, a three-week halt on trading was announced for all public securities.
At 6:00 p.m., Whitman had a conference call with the leaders of the twelve other countries that had been directly targeted by the alien presence. UN Secretary-General Nkosi, the president of the European Council, the secretary-general of NATO, the president of the World Bank, the United Nations high commissioner for refugees, and the director-general of the International Atomic Energy Agency were also on the call. The call lasted two hours, during which time there were additional attacks in France, Germany, and Israel, adding over 7,000 fatalities.
The recurring themes during the phone call were confusion, fear, and anger. But there were four things that everyone agreed to—eventually. First, no one would launch an attack against the aliens without first informing the others. Second, there would be no use of nuclear weapons unless there was something close to a consensus among the nuclear powers regarding their use. Third, all countries would devote more resources to gathering intelligence on the alien squadrons. Finally, if humanity survived, there would be a global effort to help rebuild the countries that were hit hardest in the war.
At 10:00, Kilmer and Silla met in the Treaty Room.
They sat across from each other, neither of them wanting to appear presumptive by trying to pick up where they had left off the night before. The conversation eventually shifted back to the four clues, and whether there was anything in them that might lead to a path out of this desperate situation. By now, most of the team had the four messages committed to memory.
GermanYin14
HDT/AL46
RWE2NRM4MJW
GALWAY4/3Kingdoms/21
“I’m comfortable with my in
terpretation of the first clue,” Kilmer explained. “It tells us why the aliens are here in the first place—they’re looking to wage a pre-emptive war. And the third clue is clearly my way of saying we should adopt some form of passive resistance—though I don’t currently think that’s a good idea. The fourth clue is a mystery—understandably—since I didn’t even write that one. That leaves only the second clue, about Thoreau and Lincoln, which I’m still struggling to decipher. As for my conversation with Archidamus… well, it’s good to know that he’s trying to help. But I don’t know what to make of his final message. About the crossing of rivers.” I suppose that’s now the fifth clue in all of this.
Just then there was a knock at the door. It was President Whitman.
“I saw the light on. Thought I’d come by and crash whatever party Professor Kilmer is hosting in my house.”
“Madam President—by all means—please…” Kilmer stammered as he and Silla rose to their feet. He was glad that he hadn’t been caught sitting too close to Silla or holding her hand.
Whitman sat down and shared what was on her mind. “I’m not sure how much longer anyone will wait before taking the fight to the aliens. The only thing holding some countries back is that they don’t want to be the first to feel the aliens’ wrath. And I don’t blame them for wanting to fight. Even knowing what I know about what the aliens might be capable of—and even though the US hasn’t been attacked—I think I’m ready to retaliate, at least in some small measure. What they’re doing is unconscionable—attacking and killing innocent human beings without even allowing a dialogue or providing any justification.”
“Is that your plan, Madam President?” Silla asked. “Are you planning to order an attack?”
“Not tonight. But if things don’t start to improve, it will happen soon enough. Whether we want to or not, someone will cross that line. For now, we have bipartisan support in Congress for our policy of restraint, but rank-and-file members are all over the place on this. I’m told there will be at least a dozen speeches made on the House floor tomorrow that will not be very kind to us. I’m not worried about it, but I think it reflects the mood of our citizens. Anyway, enough about what I already know. What have you two been discussing?”
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