“Black Pawn Four to Red King Seven, comeback,” said a cryptic Fanmer.
“Red King Seven to Black Pawn Four, comeback.”
Fanmer smiled, he recognized the voice. “Red King this Black Pawn, over.”
“Go Pawn.”
Fanmer pulled a piece of paper out of his breast pocket. He unfolded the paper and smoothed it out in front of him. “Seven, Eight, Zero, Bravo Nine, Nine, Nine. Charley Walker Six, Six, Six, Alpha Four.” He waited.
“You have a go, Black Pawn.”
“Black Pawn out.”
Fanmer turned to a random channel and took off his headphones. He exited the room, allowing the crew to return. He walked to a door, knocked, and went inside. A screen came on in front of him. He stood in front of the screen and placed a device in his ear.
“Mr. Vice President, we are ready.”
Vice President Jason Reilly sat at a small, round table sipping his coffee. He was a portly man with a thick short neck and round to oval head. Black trimmed glasses set on a crooked nose in front of beady eyes and hooked around small pointed ears. His black hair was no longer than half an inch at most. His face resembled that of a magical elf, complete with thin lips.
The man had the nerve to hold out his pinky as he sipped from a Presidential teacup. It angered Fanmer. The President risked his life while his second-in-command sought the comfort of a bombproof shelter at an undisclosed location.
“Sir?”
“I heard you, Fanmer. You think I’m deaf?”
“No, sir,” said Fanmer. The words nearly choked him. He hated calling the pig sir and worse, Vice President. No one in the administration got along with the power-seeking monster. If you must buy your way onto a ticket, you should know that you are hated. This pig didn’t know it or didn’t care.
“Where is the President?”
“On his way here, sir.”
Fanmer watched the stubby pinky poke out again as the man took another sip.
“Good. I have half the cabinet here with me and need to get back to them so I will make this brief. Fleet Admiral Carmichael is in command of the Southeast group. You will stay aboard the Bohman and wait for President Connors. If he doesn’t return after an hour, you are under orders to fire the first salvo into the mountain.”
“Sir?”
Fanmer didn’t like the plan. Why should he be a scapegoat? President Connors said for Reilly to only take one other with him, once again the Vice President ignored orders and did as he pleased. Save thy self and thy scoundrel friends first. What a jerk.
Fanmer wanted to be anywhere but among warships. If these were actual aliens, he would be the first to die while Reilly and his band of cowards stayed safe and sound in an impenetrable bunker.
Vice President Reilly stared through the screen with his beady eyes ablaze. “You will do as I say. You will provide cover for Carmichael.” He leaned forward as if to come through the screen and stare down Fanmer. It worked.
“Yes, sir.”
“I want that mountain laid to waste, nothing is to survive. I have a cover story in place. Play your part and serve me well or I shall be very cross with you, Fanmer.”
He spoke the name with venom. Fanmer shuddered.
“Yes, sir.”
Why did I fall into his clutches? One lousy mistake and I get mixed up with a radical who wants to snuff his boss and take over.
“Now, Fanmer, do you have your orders?”
“I have them.”
“Good, good. Wait for Connors and when he leaves for the mountain, notify Carmichael and start the countdown.”
“Yes, sir.”
The screen went dark. Fanmer sunk into a chair and exhaled. The Vice President’s plan amounted to murder. Can he go through with it? Was warning President Connors an option? He closed his eyes and took in a shaky breath.
Chapter Ten: Connors
The time drew near to the appointed hour. President Connors stared at his feet. His big chair seemed so small in light of what lay ahead of him. What if they weren’t alone? What if the aliens were real? He spun his chair and gazed out the large bay window. Connors longed to be out with his wife in the White House gardens. His heart thumped thinking of her. Even now, after twenty years of marriage, Katherine made his heart soar with a look. If only he could go to her and reveal all.
Connors watched her and his two sons, Matthew and Luke, in the garden with one hundred students from the local school. They planted various seeds and seedlings. Everyone worked hard, yet their faces showed smiles. He wanted to go with them instead of to the place of dread, where he was bound. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.
“Mr. President?”
Connors turned from his bay window.
“Yes, Miriam?”
“It’s time, sir. The chopper is waiting to take you to the Bohman.”
“It’s waiting for us, Miriam.”
“Sir?”
“You are going with me, Miriam.”
Fright showed on her face. She looked at him and he saw a small shake.
“Sir?”
“I need you, Miriam. Only a handful of people know what is going on. The Vice President is secured and Fanmer is investigating. That leaves you and I. Besides, if this is a true first encounter, I am going to need it documented. You are my witness to potential history, Miriam. I need you beside me, recording. Everything we need is on the Bohman. Let’s go.”
“Yes, sir.” The words came out softly.
He knew she didn’t want to go, but neither did he. It was nice to have a companion. He met her at the door and they walked out together. She shivered as they walked to the helicopter. Connors couldn’t blame her, he felt the same way.
Air Force One landed in North Carolina. They boarded a chopper that took them out to sea. The chopper set down on the helipad on board the aircraft carrier USS Bohman. Connors and Miriam braved the winds and left the helicopter. Music played, but they barely heard it. They stayed in place until the chopper left. The music played louder and when he looked, President Connors saw a military band playing.
They stepped down to salutes.
After greeting them, Walter Fanmer took them below to a private room. Fanmer held up his hand to stop Miriam from entering. “Wait here, Miriam. This is private.”
“No,” said President Connors. “Miriam’s presence is mandatory. She will record every conversation and every event. Miriam?” He held the door open for her.
“Thank you, Mr. President.”
“Walter?”
“Thank you, Mr. President.”
President Connors entered the room last. He wasn’t being gracious. He needed time to think. He closed the door and joined them at a small table. Connors felt uneasy. Whenever big decisions needed to be made he sat around a large, oval table and solicited opinions from all within. That luxury had been taken away. Until he had proof, he would keep silent. He sat and put on a big smile for them. He was President of the United States and he was in command.
“Mr. President,” said Fanmer. “We have a chopper that will take the two of you to the coordinates we received. I wish you would let me go with you, sir.”
“No, no, that’s not wise. I’m going to assume this is no prank and limit our exposure to these aliens. Any word on the debris?”
“Yes, sir. The chopper was hit with some kind of energy weapon. There are residual traces of a nuclear isotope mixed with several chemicals we can’t identify.”
“Radiation?”
“Yes, sir, but at harmless levels. Sir, I really don’t think it is a good idea for the leader of the Free World to expose the high office in this manner. The Vice President believes them to be terrorists looking to kidnap a high-ranking official. I would be happy to take your place.”
President Connors thought about it for a moment. He knew he couldn’t, but it was a nice thought. If he offered the proposition to Miriam, he is sure she would take it. Connors regretted getting her involved, but there was nothing he could do
about that right now.
“I need you here to coordinate with the Vice President. Thanks for the offer. Believe me, I’m not one for bravery. If this is a first contact situation, I need to represent my country and planet. Anything goes wrong, you will have the job of blasting them to hell from here. Give us one hour”—he looked at Miriam—“if we are not out by then, consider us hostages and act accordingly.”
Miriam winced.
Fanmer nodded. He opened a large aluminum briefcase and handed each a receiver. “Take these, they are satellite phones and should operate inside the mountain. Keep them a secret and use them only if necessary.”
“Thanks,” said Miriam.
Fanmer opened the phone for her. “Press 911* and we send in the Marines. Press 411* and we know you need more time to wrap things up. A word of warning, if you press 411 it activates an hour delay response time. If you’re not out an hour later, we come in with guns blazing.”
“Thank you, Fanmer,” said Connors. He tucked his phone in the breast pocket of his gray suit. “Well, let’s get moving.”
“Sir, there’s something else I need to talk to you about—”
“No more delays,” said Connors. “Let’s get this show on the road and get it finished. Let’s go.”
Connors rose from the table, cutting him off. He was a jumble of nerves and delays made it worse. He had to pretend he was strong, though he wasn’t. He never counted on this being part of the job.
“Everything is in place,” said Fanmer. “We are ready.”
“Let’s go.”
Fanmer escorted them out and waved as the chopper lifted off the pad. Connors gazed out at the throng of people and wondered if he would ever see any of them again. His family flashed through his mind and he wondered when was the last time he had said ‘I love you’ to them. Would he get a chance to redeem himself? He saw that Miriam was shaking and touched her. Miriam smiled, but the edges of her lips twitched. Connors held her hand to steady them both. It was the least he could do for getting her into this mess.
As they arrived at the sight, below them they saw the debris field. Near it was a giant red square with a flashing red light in each corner. The center held a metallic pad, their destination. The chopper pilot touched down and as soon as they were off, it lifted into the air. President Connors guessed what his secretary was thinking. Their ticket to safety flew away before their very eyes.
Connors walked hand in hand to the platform. Miriam squeezed his hand tightly, digging and drawing blood. The pain was a comfort to him. It kept him focused on the job before him. Without looking down, he felt the blood dripping down his fingers and it helped. It honestly helped.
To the platform they went.
President Connors stopped. He took a measured breath and stepped forward. Miriam followed, determined not to let go of the President’s hand no matter how undignified it might look. When both were safely aboard, the President ran a hand through his graying hair. Tonight would surely turn the rest of his fading brown hair a delicate gray. He looked for a button to press, but found none. Moments later he felt a humming in his feet.
Miriam stumbled into him as the lift rose into the air. It felt strangely exhilarating to the President. Being lifted high in the air, in an open elevator, was fantastic. President Connors felt the wind rushing through his hair. He ventured a look to his side, the view was magnificent. It was astonishing to see the mountainside in such clear view.
He thought to take mental snapshots, but before he could, the lift stopped. If not for being in the center, they may have fallen to their deaths. Connors took a moment to collect himself. Dignity was a must. He couldn’t allow aliens to see him look nothing other than perfect. He took his hand from Miriam and ran his hands through his hair. Next, he pressed his hands to his suit to smooth out the wrinkles.
President Connors waited for Miriam and together they stepped off into the unknown.
From the ground the hole was dark and menacing, up close, clear and menacing. They moved forward toward the source of the light. After a few yards, they could see a wide-open area to their right. In the middle of the area sat a metallic cylinder, the spaceship.
Miriam gave a nervous smile. Connors took a moment to catch his breath, then motioned them to the ship. When they neared the ship, a second platform became visible. Perhaps it would take them inside the ship.
It was real, all real: the spaceship, aliens, the destruction of the chopper and crew, and most of all, Norman. Fear deepened in his bones. The reality of never seeing his family rang true. He can die here. All mankind can die here.
Lights came on around the base of the second platform and it hummed.
“Hurry, Miriam!”
Quickly he moved to it, believing it to be on a timer and might leave without them. They stood in the center and the platform rose. Instead of taking them into the ship, they detoured and were taken in the opposite direction.
“Oh god, sir, look!”
Connors couldn’t believe what he saw. They moved toward a large metallic box with no door or opening. The hair on the back of his head stood up and tingled. They would crash into the side of the box and be killed. They sped forward on the platform. His mind reeled. There was no time to think. “Oh, god!” they braced. They didn’t slam into the metal as they thought, they disappeared into liquid metal.
The platform stopped.
It was a strain to make out anything in the darkened box. Connors checked his body in a panic. He couldn’t see and knew he was wet from passing through whatever they passed through. It can’t be; he was dry. How? Connors reached out to fill his way forward. He wrapped an arm around Miriam and moved them both forward. His arm waved about as he slowly moved forward away from the platform. A light came on from high above.
Miriam and Connors found themselves standing in the center of what could be a cargo trailer. It appeared to be all metal, which contained grooves and ridges every few feet. The walls were black and held no pictures. The room held no furniture.
A bell sounded.
President Connors turned to see something coming through the far wall as they had moments before. Whatever it was, it was large, taking up the entire space of the wall. It pushed through and the wall became solid again.
“President Connors?” a voice came from the wall. This time the voice was female and at regular speed. Not as robotic as before, yet there was an inhuman quality to it. The voice was fully feminine, compelling. It would take either a strong will or fear to resist. He was well supplied with both.
“Yes?”
“Come forward, President Connors.”
“Who-who is speaking?”
“Come forward.”
“What do you want of me?”
“Forward, President Connors.”
The structure in front of the wall shimmered. It glowed bright red and gave off heat. They covered their eyes. Images of Moses’ burning bush flashed through his mind. The wall cooled. Standing before them was a tall chair and sitting in that chair, a woman. If this was a member of their race, they were compatible with earthlings.
Connors moved closer to get a better look at the woman. From an angle he saw tubes and wires at the rear of the chair. They plunged themselves deep within her flesh.
“My god!”
“Come forward, President Connors,” said the woman with dark-red, long-flowing hair.
The President motioned for Miriam to join him. She would have to be shocked tomorrow, he needed her now and had been unaware he had taken a couple steps forward without her. This was it, first contact. He would be the one to make first contact. My god, the History books. What will they say about me? His heart beat faster but fear took a back seat to History. Connors took Miriam’s hand and together they moved within six feet of the woman. He stared into her gray eyes. The eyes looked human. He wondered.
“You are President Connors.”
Connors looked at the statue masquerading as a woman. Was it a question? He looked to Mi
riam, she gazed at the woman with a look of amazement. She no longer held his hand and her eyes displayed rapid movement. Miriam was on her job and would have a thorough report for his review. He could concentrate on the problem at hand.
Chapter Eleven: Miriam
Miriam took her new duties seriously. I must remember everything! Her mind became a video recorder and the instant she made it back home—and she prayed continuously that she would—she would write down everything she saw. The President liked thorough reports. Her first report, years ago, had been awful. Never had she seen a man of such high standards wail as he did that day. Since then, she gave stellar reports and this would be one for the ages.
The first account she would give would be of the platform, it was alien. The weirdest looking black-silver metal she had ever seen. When they stepped on board the platform, fear took her. It filtered into her chest and squeezed her heart. Her lungs felt heavy and she found it hard to breathe. Still, she had a job to do and as she held onto her boss, she began her duties. Her high heels came in handy. Without the President knowing it, she tapped her heel on the platform to hear the sound it made. The feel and sound would go into her report.
Next, she ignored the outer cave and focused on the interior. As they slowly walked forward, her mind recorded everything she saw. The first look at the spaceship stopped her heart. She remembered to breathe, but had few words to adequately describe the ship. The best she could come up with was that it was cylindrical, made out of the same weird looking alien metal, and hovered slightly above the cave floor while emitting a continuous hum. Near the ship, she saw a platform and moved in that direction. Where would it take her? Her heart sped again as they stepped on it and it moved. Again, she tapped her heel.
Miriam breathed a sigh of relief when her heart stopped pounding and they could see. Gazing at a real live spaceship nearly did her in. What she now looked at would finish her for sure. She stared at a seated woman that appeared from a wall. Somehow, someway, somewhere she found strength. Her heart rate slowed. This is for posterity, she told herself.
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