We've Seen the Enemy

by Paul Dayton

  Bishop didn’t care much for the liaison officer, feeling that the pretty words he contributed confused the situation more than helped it, but he understood that there were times when people simply insisted on having their egos massaged and he knew that the tall, well-dressed Litkov was a genial fellow that got along easily with everyone.

  He couldn’t put a finger on what it was that rubbed him the wrong way, other than the fact that he never really knew what Litkov’s personal opinions were about anything. He was secretive about himself and never let any of his personal information slip out, like every CIA agent he knew. No wonder he did so well at poker…

  Their computer system had no information on the direction they were heading, but HAL continued providing informative answers. The historian threw out questions faster than HAL could answer them, until HAL finally suggested that he spend time on the instruction units to fill in any blanks. Their computer systems had also been uploaded with everything HAL had in its computer banks, from the events before the cataclysm to the methods used by the aliens in their attack. The hundreds of thousands of terabytes of information would take years to categorize and decades to study as people brought themselves up to date on history they had forgotten existed.

  The thought of aliens brought Bishop back to the reality of the situation. As much as they enjoyed seeing the realization of their dreams, the truth was that the war against the bugs was far from over.

  The comm system activated with a message from Scratch.

  “Captain?”

  “Here, Scratch. How’s your honeymoon going?” Bishop asked. The other men smiled as Scratch laughed and replied, “Rubbing salt in the wounds now? Let me remind you I’m in command of a base and have everyone here at my beck and call…”

  “Uh, Scratch,” Bishop interrupted. “I’m with the commander and General Hoyt, and we’re curious to find out about your progress.”

  There was a silence from the other end as Scratch fought off his embarrassment. “Ahem. Well, Sir, the instruction units are up and running. Jack and I quickly realized that base personnel were kept in ignorance and fear, and that information would be the best cure. Most have surprisingly never seen space and have no idea that Earth even exists. Still, this base has huge potential. The work they’ve done here with the growth domes and power harvesting is truly phenomenal.

  “As they’re being instructed, volunteers are being rounded up to help in the repairs and preparations. We expect all to have gone through the instruction units in ten days, and after that a notice will be posted up requesting resumes from those interested in forming a group in charge of running the daily operations.

  “The Emperor has been kept on his post but he’s in seclusion so as to not cause any disturbance. Most have never met him and only know of his henchmen, and they were roundly disdained by everyone. The base has been notified that this group is now in incarceration pending a CAH trial. Shinto is keeping an eye on everything and has been very cooperative.

  “Other than this there is nothing more to add, but I do have one favor, which is why we called. Can you upload your video feed to us?”

  “Good work, Scratch,” Bishop said. “Uploading now. Enjoy!”

  They watched as a mountain range came into view, an amazing string of mountains that HAL called the Grand Tetons. They then crossed a semi arid area, and within a few minutes they were back into forested hills. The beauty surprised them, as none had seen a planet this rich in vegetation before.

  “HAL, has Earth always been this green?” Bishop asked as he watched mesmerized.

  “Yes, more or less. The ice ages would obviously affect the climate, and we’re midway into our next ice age at the moment.”

  The gravplane descended through another set of mountains and landed on a round pad that could easily accommodate both ships. On the pad, off to the side, a group of people could be clearly seen as they waited patiently for both ships to land.

  As soon as they touched down, Bishop opened the hatch and they walked onto the tarmac. He quickly forgot his uncomfortable feeling of being in the open as he looked around. A slight wind whispered in his ears, and he heard a bird give an eerie, lonely warbling cry far off in the distance. Little jewels of deep blue lakes could be seen in the valleys surrounding them, while the snow-capped mountain tops competed for attention. Although the temperature was cool in the mountain landing site, the heat of an afternoon sun beat against his face and warmed the tears coursing down his cheeks. He looked embarrassingly at Hollander, and was relieved to see he wasn’t the only one crying.

  Bishop took control of himself and watched as a tall man in his thirties approached with a woman by his side, followed by a group of others. He looked the man over, noticing that he was slightly taller than the woman, thin and wiry, but with kind eyes. Turning his attention to the woman, he watched as she walked side by side with him, and he smiled as he noticed they were holding hands. She was also tall but elegant and graceful, pretty but not particularly beautiful. Her bearing reminded him of a no-nonsense woman who seemed capable of accomplishing a lot with limited resources. They smiled warmly as they approached the group.

  “Welcome, gentlemen! My name is Timothy, and this is my wife Ruth. It is with very deep pleasure that we extend warm greetings from all your friends here on Earth!”

  “Mr. Timothy, Madam Ruth, it’s with great pleasure and anticipation that I set foot on Earth, and this among friends!” the commander replied, choking as he said the final words.

  Bishop thought it a good choice of words, noting that his title had been avoided by the general. A warm hug from Ruth was given to all and that left the general flustered, but it was soon followed by a hug to each from Timothy, something he learned from the Russians. Introductions worked themselves around and eventually a brief silence hung in the air.

  Bishop broke the silence and asked, “A few minutes ago a bird cry was heard in the distance. What was that?”

  “It was a loon,” Ruth said smiling.

  “Ah. It was…very beautiful.” Bishop made a mental note to look it up later.

  “Please follow me to the greeting room where some refreshments have been prepared and we can talk. We have much to discuss.”

  As they walked into Base Freedom USA, the general asked Timothy, “Have you been updated on China Lunar?”

  “Yes. HAL kept me informed. That was quite a… daring mission.”

  Litkov, following closely behind interrupted and said, “We apologize for involving ourselves in an already delicate situation, but the destruction of our scout ship warranted that we come after those responsible. Universal laws cover…” his words trailed off to a whisper as a Guard-Bot moved quickly towards the group of men. Bots had never been used in space, not only because Maxon suits were available but also because fully autonomous robots were unreliable and unpredictable. Thinking he was under attack, the General grabbed at the non-existent sidearm usually at his side, but the Guard-Bot stopped inches from Timothy.

  “What is it Junior?”

  Bishop had watched with curiosity.

  “I was asked to transmit a message to you, Sir.”

  “Can’t it wait?”

  “No, Sir. Priority one. This is the message. “First Lady, New World Leader, Commander, General and guests. We are Earth Alliance. Would you and your group please join us for dinner and a meeting immediately? The coordinates have been downloaded to General Hoyt’s ship, and invitation has been extended to Jaclyn and Jason presently on China Lunar. We’re sorry for any inconvenience this may cause, but the urgency of the situation demands it.”

  The bot stepped back as it allowed the import of the message to sink in.

  “HAL, is this for real?” Timothy asked.

  “Yes it is, Timothy.”

  “Well then. If you don’t mind gentlemen, I’m starving. Let’s not keep them waiting,” he said.

  General Hoyt eyed the Gravplane suspiciously and said, “Mr. Timothy, perhaps you can come in my ship?” />
  Timothy looked the sleek craft over and said, “I’ve been curious about your craft. Perhaps you can tell me about it on the trip over.”

  “Happily,” he said, and they all entered and made themselves comfortable. Ruth had beaten Timothy to the copilot seat, and Junior took up its station near Timothy.

  “Sir,” Bishop asked. “Does this bot follow you around everywhere?”

  “Unfortunately yes, Captain Bishop.”

  “HAL has specifically instructed me to accompany you everywhere except in…” the bot replied, but Timothy interrupted and said, “He gets a little sensitive when he feels he’s not appreciated.”

  After looking at his wife who was busy talking to the general as he prepped for flight, he leaned over and whispered to the Captain, “I could tell it not to follow me, but then my wife…you understand. It’s easier this way.”

  Bishop smiled and thought that the more things change, the more they stayed the same.

  They made small talk, with Timothy asking various questions, first about the ship, then about the fleet, and eventually about an estimate as to how many humans there really were in space. After only fifteen minutes Timothy could clearly see snow under the viewport and asked, “Where are we heading?”

  “According to the information your base computer gave, we’re heading in the general direction of the arctic circle,” the General said. “My comp has been informed that ETA is ten minutes.”

  A Base in the arctic! Timothy shouldn’t have been surprised at the existence of a base there. He had guessed as much earlier. But Earth Alliance there too? That surprised him. He watched as the ship did its final approach to the coordinates given, and although they could see nothing at first, soon a ring of lights appeared encircling an obvious landing area in a nondescript field of snow and ice.

  The General landed the craft in the center, and as soon as he touched down the whole pad silently descended into the ice as the roof closed in after them.

  “Welcome First Lady, Gentlemen. Would you like us to tractor your ship to a landing bay?” the voice said over the ship’s loudspeaker. General Hoyt was immediately put off as he realized that somehow Earth Alliance had gotten control of his intercom system.

  Hoyt watched as the pad continued to descend, but his instruments told him they were still on the surface. He looked up through the cockpit glass and saw the dome now hundreds of meters above his head as they continued to descend.

  “Sure,” he said, not knowing where to go anyway and curious as to how much control the Alliance Council really had.

  After a few more seconds the pad slowed and eventually stopped. The walls had already transitioned from ice to rock about two hundred meters before.

  They all felt the ship rise and thread its way towards one of a series of tunnels that converged to the landing pad. It slipped into one, and once inside they traveled a short distance to another large chamber. They could clearly see a series of craft parked in well lighted bays running along the rock wall, with two empty bays at the furthest end. Each docking bay had a number, and they were quickly guided to the one marked “BAY 14”. They felt a slight bump as it settled to the ground. General Hoyt was surprised at the size of the facility and the fact that his instruments still told him they were on the surface.

  “That was the smoothest tractor beam I’ve ever felt,” Bishop said.

  “What’s a tractor beam?” Timothy asked. “We have no such technology.”

  “I apologize for correcting you, Sir, but it appears that some of you do,” the General said. Bishop noted that he immediately recognized two of the craft parked in the bays.

  The General opened the door and they all walked out and inspected the closest craft.

  Captain Bishop turned to an unusually quiet Hollander and said, “Commander, two of these ships are duplicates of our craft. How can that be?”

  The commander didn’t reply because his attention had been focused at a ship near the other end of the chamber. It was obviously under construction, but Hollander could clearly tell that it was their brand new space/atmospheric fighter, still top secret and in the final design stage. Their computers were still working out the flight and space dynamics of the vehicle, but here was one already half finished. Not knowing how to respond to such an enigma, he stayed quiet.

  Eventually their gaze turned back to the chamber. Natural rock walls coincided with manmade walls, leaving them all impressed with the craftsmanship. The air in the chamber was cool and surprisingly dry but not cold.

  General Hoyt looked troubled, but he didn’t say anything. He waited until their hosts decided to show themselves, figuring that if they were trying to impress him, then they certainly had.

  A rush of cool air alerted them that the bay doors they had come through were opening once again. They turned to look as a black, unusual looking Klinger came in silently through the doors and landed in the other empty bay. The pilot’s hatch opened and both Jack and Scratch jumped out of the ship and made their way to them. After a round of greetings and introductions, most of the group waited patiently for someone to show up, except for Jack and Scratch who ran from one ship to another looking them over.

  “Once a fighter pilot, always a fighter pilot,” Bishop said to Timothy, who laughed at the comment.

  Eventually their interest was focused on the new fighter being built and they spent most of their time looking over the lines and technical aspects of the craft, talking to each other excitedly over the specifics. An exterior panel sitting on a workbench had them intrigued, and they spent a few minutes analyzing the shimmering surface. After a few minutes, Jack tore herself away from the craft and walked back to Bishop.

  “Someone is watching us.” She turned to look in the direction she was sensing, closed her eyes and concentrated. “Someone’s coming. One person. A woman. Scratch! Our host is coming!” Scratch came over to join them.

  They turned to look in the direction Jack had been looking. In their line of sight was a large blast door big enough for large craft to go through, and a small door next to it. Within moments the small door opened and a short, roundish woman in her mid-sixties, with a round face and jet-black hair came out to meet them. Bishop noted her body in particular. She was draped in a heavy cloak, open at the front to reveal an embroidered dress that would be short on most women but almost touching the ground on her. It was obvious that she was fat, but her appearance was pleasant and her face harbored a warm smile and happy eyes. She looked the group over one by one as the group did the same to her. Timothy, feeling uncomfortable with the silence, was about to introduce himself when she said, “Aksutik! That means ‘greetings’ in my native language. This is no place for introductions. Come.” She waved them over and entered back into the small door.

  The whole group barely fit inside the room on the other side of the door, but they managed to squeeze in. In front of them was a security door made of heavy steel and well defended. This one opened without any command to reveal a corridor that led to a large inner room with a security desk in the middle. As they passed through the corridor Jack guessed they were being scanned, and said so out loud. The woman leading them turned and smiled but said nothing. She led them past the security desk and the four people manning it, but all they did was wave and smile. Their shape was similar to the woman’s, round and with a heavy layer of fat. She eventually led them to an elevator which took them up, and Jack counted the seconds it took to reach their floor four levels up. On exiting, she turned to Bishop and said, “A LOT of people in this base.”

  She led them to a large round room with a surprisingly round table. It looked to be able to seat about thirty people. The table had a dinner setting on it, with fine linen and cutlery. Standing behind the table at regular intervals were surprisingly tall waiters waiting patiently. The room itself was ornately decorated, and lining the walls were holographic images of Earth and Space scenes from the past – the cataclysm, the first WF ships rising from their docking bays, various groups
of people including Mr. Grey and his wife and Jonathan Diaz, and so on. Bishop noted that nowhere was there a representation of the council. On the domed ceiling was a painting that Bishop immediately recognized, a copy of Michelangelo’s Sistine chapel paintings, in particular the one where God was giving life to Adam. He stood there, his head tilted back as he looked in astonishment at the incredible artwork overhead.

  The woman leading them gave him a moment and said, “It is a perfect representation, you know. Even the dome of the ceiling matches the curvature of the Sistine Chapel. This is one of the nine rooms housing a representation of his major work at the Chapel. We also have an extensive art collection. You may see more later on if you wish, but for now, please wait.” She left the group, after stealing a glance at Timothy.

  The door hadn’t stopped closing when a group of enthusiastic people walked in, greeting Timothy and the rest and eagerly hugging them all as they patting them on their backs. Bishop felt like a homecoming hero, and he noticed Hollander and Hoyt also enjoying the welcome. A few came up to Timothy and Ruth and gave them a second hug, until the greetings and introductions had made their rounds. Jack and Scratch were also hugged but Bishop noticed Jack squirming and Scratch stealing glances at her regularly. Whatever was happening, Bishop guessed Jack didn’t like it. It didn’t seem to be affecting the group though, as they appeared oblivious to her discomfort.