He shook his head, tiredly. The world was awash in refugees again and God alone knew where most of them would end up. Europe was trying desperately to close its borders, while refugees from Israel were struggling to make their way to the United States. At least they might be useful, Philip had to admit; the anti-Arab feeling in America was so strong that it was unlikely that any of the Arab refugees would ever be given sanctuary. Just after the aliens had withdrawn, the Arab community in Dearborn had been attacked by a resistance cell. The ensuring slaughter would have been shocking, if it hadn’t taken place against the backdrop of war.
“We have our country back and we have access to tech that will allow us to spread through the solar system,” the President said. “I think we have a future now.”
Philip nodded. Whatever else happened, he was damned if he was going to allow the politicians to forget just how dependent they had become on space – and just how vulnerable they would become if they lost control of the high orbitals again. NASA was dead and gone, but a new space agency, one organised by sensible people instead of bureaucrats, would rise from the ashes and lead the human race onwards to destiny.
“Assuming the alien babies don’t overwhelm us,” he said. “Or alien livestock doesn't destroy our crops.”
The President snorted. “Assuming as much,” he agreed. “And good luck in the alien city. Just don’t forget what country you represent.”
“I won’t,” Philip promised. Whatever seductions a human society could offer, there was something deeply unsettling about the alien society. He might enjoy studying it, but he would never allow it to draw him in so deeply that he forgot his job. “And good luck to you too, sir.”
***
Dolly sat upright as the President and a pair of bodyguards entered her room, one hand reaching out to touch her child protectively. The President smiled at her, a little sadly, and then looked at Mathew, who stared back at him with alien eyes. Dolly was used to seeing such reactions from the medical staff, but it bothered her to see the revulsion that flickered, briefly, over the President’s face. It was quite possible, one of the less friendly doctors had told her, that the hybrid children would simply be destroyed. They weren’t just inhuman, he'd said, but they posed a threat to all of humanity.
“Mr. President,” she said, tightly.
“I wanted to see the children for myself,” the President said. He stretched out a hand towards Mathew, who caught one of the President’s fingers with his own. “How old is he, now?”
“Not very old,” Dolly admitted. It was easy to lose track of time passing in the ward, just like she had in the alien base. But Mathew was clearly developing faster than any human child. It wouldn't be long, she thought, until he started crawling around the floor and getting into things. “But he’s mine.”
“I didn't dispute it,” the President said, quietly. He looked her in the eye. “Do you want to raise him?”
“He’s my child,” Dolly said. “Of course I will raise him.”
Once, long ago, she’d wondered how mothers could bring themselves to love babies, who were ugly and smelly and noisy. Now, she understood; Mathew might have looked inhuman, but he was still her child. She would have given her life to protect him from the world, if it had been possible. But she knew that the government might take him away and murder him and there was nothing she could do to stop them.
“He does pose problems for us,” the President said. “They all pose problems for us.”
His gaze hadn't moved from her face. “We’re going to move the children to a place where they can be brought up properly,” he said. “If you want to go with him, you would be welcome.”
Dolly didn't even have to think about it. “I will,” she said. “And I will bring him up. He won’t be a danger to anyone.”
The President bowed his head. “I hope you’re right,” he said, quietly. “I really do.”
***
The President was still shivering inwardly at the sight of the alien-human hybrid as he stepped into the next room and looked down at the man in the bed. Jacob Thornton had been a friend as well as a political ally; he’d certainly been more involved in politics than most Vice Presidents, who were normally about as useful as tits on a bull. And now he was a drooling mess, unable even to control his bodily functions.
“There is nothing we can do to fix the damage,” an atonal voice said. “He is too far gone.”
The President tensed when he saw the alien doctor, so out of place in the hospital room that he’d looked right past him. Behind him, Pepper reached for her pistol before catching herself. The alien doctor wasn't a threat, even if he was the only alien left in the United States outside their cities.
“I see,” the President said, coldly. “What happened to him?”
“The implantation process caused disruptions within his brainwaves that produced mental feedback,” the alien doctor said. “In the end, they were reduced to controlling him directly, a task made harder by the damage to his brain’s automatic functions. He is gone.”
The President sighed. Thornton’s wife had gone missing when the aliens had descended on his hiding place; no one knew what had happened to her. His parents had died years ago and he’d never had children, leaving him without any next-of-kin. The will, buried in the files under Washington, had left everything to his wife – or the President, assuming that Thornton and his wife died together.
He could leave his friend on life support indefinitely, he knew. It wouldn't be a major drain on resources, but if there was no hope of recovery ...
“God damn them,” he muttered. He raised his voice. “Pull the plug.”
Two minutes later, Jacob Thornton breathed his last.
“Godspeed,” the President said. His political enemies would use it against him, but he had been in politics long enough to know that there wasn't anything that couldn’t be used as a weapon against him. “I’ll miss you.”
Feeling a million years old, he took Pepper’s hand and led her from the chamber.
***
There was far too much to do in Washington – and Karen had been allowed to busy herself with the reconstruction – yet there was one ceremony that she had decided that she was not going to miss. Her bodyguard had asked her if she really wanted to attend – she suspected that he was really trying to forbid her from attending – but she had insisted. After everything she’d done, she wanted to watch the end.
General Howery stood in the courtyard as she entered, nodding politely to her. His face looked different now, almost slack; the doctors had warned that it might be months, even with alien technology, before the nerves regenerated enough to allow him to smile properly. And to think he was one of the lucky ones. Some of the other Walking Dead looked as if they were permanently drooling or sneering as they walked.
I wonder how many of them are sex-mad too, she thought, as she stopped next to the General. Or suffering from other problems ...?
She pushed that line of thought aside as the guards dragged in the prisoner. Daisy hadn't endured her stay in prison very well; her normally-perfect hair was ragged, while her face was covered in bruises. Karen had heard that many lesser collaborators had tried to earn favour from the guards by attacking the senior collaborators, leaving several dead before they could be tried. The government just didn't have the resources to provide proper guards.
General Howery stepped forward as the guards cuffed Daisy to a post at the other side of the courtyard. “Daisy Fairchild, you have been found guilty of needless collaboration with the enemy, treason and aiding and abetting the abuse of countless Americans,” he said. “For your crimes, you have been sentenced to death. Do you have anything you wish to say before you die?”
Karen watched as Daisy struggled helplessly against the cuffs. Daisy’s own files had convicted her; Karen’s testimony hadn't been necessary in the end. It was hard to feel any pity for her; unlike others, she hadn't been forced into complete collaboration. She’d worked hard to earn her
self a place in the collaborator government – and she’d done it by betraying her entire country. There could be no mercy.
“Take aim,” Howery said. The firing squad lifted their rifles. “Fire!”
Shots rang out.
Daisy Fairchild fell to the ground, dead.
Karen looked up as Howery rested a hand on her shoulder. “It had to be done,” he said, gently. “They have to see that the system works.”
“I know,” Karen said.
But she still felt conflicted. And she knew that it would last the rest of her life.
***
Nicolas had never cried in his life, or so he’d told himself. Being a SEAL was about mental toughness, not just physical strength, endurance and skill. One had to be capable of carrying on even if one was completely exhausted, no matter what happened. And yet he felt tears prickling at the corner of his eyes as Nancy threw herself into his arms. He’d missed her so much.
“She’s lovely,” Abigail said. “And sweet too.”
“I know,” Nicolas said.
“Dad saved my life,” Nancy said, her arms wrapped around Nicolas’s neck. “And I ...”
Nicolas scowled. Nancy was barely seven; she shouldn't be seeing death, let alone lose a parent to violence. But he knew all too well that violence was no respecter of childhood. American children had been lucky to live in such a peaceful world, a world that had been ripped apart by the aliens. There had been other places on Earth where children were unlikely to reach their fifth year. Now, there were a lot more of them.
“This is Abigail,” he said, as Nancy looked over at his companion. “She’s my friend ...”
Nancy giggled. “Is she my new mommy?”
Nicolas laughed as Abigail flushed. They'd shared drinks in the aftermath of the battle of Washington, which had ended with them sharing a bed. But it was way too early to talk about marriage, even if his last experience hadn't soured him on the whole concept.
“I’m Nancy,” Nancy said. She gave Abigail a sweet smile. “I have two fathers ...”
Her face fell as she remembered that Greg was dead.
Nicolas held her tightly, wondering what he could say. Greg had betrayed him, but he hadn't really collaborated in any other way – and he’d died to save Nancy’s life. Nicolas had envisaged strangling the man he’d once thought of as a brother, before he’d realised that the alien rebels had managed to reroute him to their command ship. It was strange to realise that Greg might have betrayed Nancy’s father to save her life.
But in the end, he would have seen no alternative.
It’s easy to make those judgements when we’re not involved, he thought. Now, everything is complicated again.
“Come on,” he said, swinging Nancy around so that she was perched on his shoulders. “Let’s go see how much of Washington is still standing.”
The President had given him two days leave, thankfully. There would be time to ensure that Nancy wound up somewhere safer than a refugee camp or one of the abandoned buildings that were being pressed into service as emergency shelters. And to see if she and Abigail got on well ...
And then ... they had a country to rebuild. There was still so much work to be done.
The End
Afterword
“Space will be colonised - although possibly not by [Americans]. If we lose our nerve, there are plenty of other people on this planet. The construction crews may speak Chinese or Russian - Swahili or Portuguese. It does not take "good old American know-how" to build a city in space. The Laws of Physics work just as well for others as they do for us.”
-- Robert A. Heinlein
The term ‘outside context problem,’ as I noted in the book of that name, refers to an encounter with a force that exists right out of one’s frame of reference. Iain M. Banks, who invented the term, suggested the example of a tribe on an isolated island – with nothing more advanced than wind-powered canoes – coming face-to-face with a massive iron ship, automatic weapons and other advanced technology. For them, the experience would be devastating.
True Outside Context Problems are actually quite rare in human history, but when they occur they can shatter a previously stable society. The Native Americans had no conception of what would happen when they first met Europeans; their primitive weapons were no match for the European weapons and tactics, nor were their immune systems prepared for the impact of smallpox and other diseases. (It wasn't the only shift; the idealised image of noble braves riding on horseback simply didn't exist until horses were introduced to the Americas by the Europeans.) Both Japan and China found it hard to come to grips with just how advanced the Westerners were when they made formal contact; Japan managed to modernize, to some extent, but China had to go through hell before she could stand up for herself.
If we did encounter aliens, it would be the ultimate Outside Context Problem for many of us. What would we do if a giant starship entered our solar system? What would happen if the aliens were friendly of hostile? Or what if they were simply uninterested in us? Even if they didn't have hostile intentions, they might do untold harm to human society simply by existing. What would happen, for example, if the aliens had conclusive proof that there was no God? Or if humans started converting to their religions?
But I’m not going to discuss the implications here (well, any more so than I have done in the text.) I have something else in mind.
I wrote the first draft of Outside Context Problem in 2006 and the second version (the one on Kindle) in 2009. In that time, the space shuttle was still a valid program and I had hopes that the Bush Administration programs would help to push the human race further into space. Now, Outside Context Problem seems dated. The space shuttles have been grounded permanently (an immensely stupid decision, when they could have been left in orbit instead) and there is no immediate replacement in sight. NASA appears more concerned with producing pretty artwork than actual hardware. Right now, getting to the moon within five years would be extremely difficult.
This is potentially disastrous.
There are several different reasons for this, three of which are vitally important.
First, we live at the bottom of a gravity well that attracts objects in space towards it. That gravity well tugs at asteroids that drift through space, luring them into trajectories that will eventually bring them close enough to Earth to hit the planet. Does this seem like the synopsis for a blockbuster movie? Consider; every year, thousands of meteors and shooting stars crash into Earth’s atmosphere, some surviving their passage through the atmosphere to hit the planet’s surface. What would happen to us if a large asteroid hit the planet?
If the asteroid hit water, it would throw millions of tons of water into the atmosphere and send tidal waves washing out in all directions. If the asteroid hit land, it would throw dust into the atmosphere instead. Every exaggerated statement ever made about nuclear winter might well be true if the asteroid was large enough. And if the asteroid was too big, the entire human race would die that day. It would be the end.
Right now, if we knew that an asteroid was plunging towards us, what could we do about it?
The standard suggestion is to launch nuclear missiles at the rock. It might work, assuming that everything went according to plan. Or it might result in thousands of tiny radioactive rocks falling on the planet instead. Ideally, we would want to deflect it so it missed Earth by a comfortable margin. Can we do it with today’s space program? I don’t think so.
It would be comforting to assume that this would never happen. I don’t believe that to be true. If an asteroid can seriously damage the dinosaurs, contributing to their extinction, why can't one do the same to us? Perhaps we should learn a lesson from the prior rulers of Earth.
But even without asteroids, there are other reasons to get into space.
As a society, we are dependent upon space technology. Satellites bind us together, provide everything from GPS to television channels and the internet; it’s hard to look at our modern societ
y and see something that isn’t related, in one way or another, to space. Yet, at the same time, we do not seek to defend what we have – or prevent others from threatening our space facilities. This isn’t rocket science; potential enemies like China and Russia (and even Iran and North Korea) have put a lot of effort into space-based weapons. Space gives us so many advantages that they have no choice; in the event of a war over Taiwan, for example, the Chinese will certainly attempt to blind our satellites. Failing to do so would be effectively admitting defeat.
This barely scratches the surface of what is possible, given the right level of technology and political determination. The nation that controls space will control the world. Imagine, if you will, that China manages to deploy an orbital bombardment system – something akin to Project Thor. This would give them a formidable advantage over the United States, if the US failed to match their development in time. They might also deploy a Brilliant Pebbles antiballistic missile system, crippling the United States nuclear deterrent. This would give them the world.
There’s also the simple fact that our planet’s resources are limited and/or not always under our control. Space, on the other hand, offers an endless bounty of resources, ranging from asteroid mining to solar energy and HE3 from the moon or Jupiter. Whoever stakes their claims first will be in a strong position against everyone else.
And yet there is a third reason to get into space.
As a society, we have made our greatest strides forward when we were exploring, colonising and growing outwards. Americans who had a lust for adventure, to do something new, could go west; Britons could go to India or other parts of the British Empire. Now, there is nowhere left on Earth to explore - and we are tied down by endless pettifogging rules to ensure ‘safety.’ Our schools are governed by desperate attempts to avoid liability (imagine not being allowed to play on swings because someone might get hurt), our courtrooms have been stripped of common sense and politicians are not allowed to be blunt because it might hurt someone’s feelings. This is killing us, piece by piece.
Outside Context Problem: Book 03 - The Slightest Hope of Victory Page 49