“We intend to continue recruiting – more openly, now – and purchasing supplies and raw materials from Earth,” Steve said, carefully. “Given enough time, we should be able to put together a working defence network for the planet, particularly as we unlock more and more secrets of alien technology. Eventually, we plan to settle the entire solar system and reach for the stars.”
“Ambitious,” the President commented. “Perhaps we can be of assistance?”
“We would prefer to do our own recruiting,” Steve said. “If this became a US Government project it would cause problems with other nations, problems we would prefer to avoid.”
“I would have thought that NASA might have some ideas,” the President said.
Steve snorted. “If NASA had been led by men of vision, Mr. President, we would have hotels on Titan and Mars would be halfway to being habitable,” he said. “Instead, trillions of dollars have been wasted on pretty artwork and feel-good diplomacy, while the Russians, Chinese and Indians move ahead with their own space programs. We don’t even have a working replacement for the Space Shuttle.”
He shook his head. “We will recruit people who we believe can help us, then open the floodgates to immigration,” he added. “But we will deal with people as individuals, not as groups or nations. Let everyone have a chance to stand on their own two feet.”
For a moment, he thought the President would ask him to explain, something Kevin had warned him to try to avoid. Ranting at the President would have been rather less than constructive, no matter how much he wanted to tell the President exactly what he thought of some of his more damaging polices.
“We have never forbidden emigration from the United States,” the President said. “And, if your new nation is no threat, we will certainly not start now.”
Steve nodded. “We have a great deal to offer you,” he said, “in exchange for your cooperation and assistance, when we need it.”
The President leaned forward, interested.
Steve allowed himself a smile. “There are three different gifts in the van, Mr. President,” he said. “One of them – the large box – is a portable cold fusion reactor, capable of putting out ...”
The President’s jaw dropped. “A nuclear reactor?”
“It’s perfectly safe,” Steve said, with some amusement. He had to be the first person to smuggle a nuclear reactor onto an American military base. “As I was saying, the reactor is capable of putting out ... well, it’s capable of putting out the same amount of power as the nuclear reactor on an aircraft carrier. Anything built with purely human technology would cost at least nine billion dollars and take years to complete, assuming it wasn't politically sabotaged along the way. A handful of them would suffice to meet all of America’s power requirements, without any pesky nuclear waste, political problems or even terrorist threats.”
“I don’t believe this,” the President said, shaking his head. “A nuclear reactor the size of a small van?”
“Smaller than that,” Steve confirmed. “But you don’t have to take my word for it. The Foreign Technology Division will have fun experimenting with the power systems and figuring out that it does what it says on the tin. And there are two other items we brought along.”
He paused, then went on. “There are a number of room-temperature superconductors,” he continued. “They have quite a number of interesting applications, but the important one right now is that they can be used to build very effective batteries. One of them could be used to power a car for weeks, replacing gas ... which would sharply reduce the West’s dependency on Middle Eastern oil. We could meet the requirements of the United States and our allies from local production, once the batteries were used to replace gas everywhere.”
“There would be political problems,” the President said, sourly.
Steve wasn't surprised. The wealthy oil corporations and Arab states had worked hard to ensure that possible alternatives to oil were marginalised or simply disregarded. Introducing the fusion reactors and the batteries would have a whole series of effects on American society, perhaps even knocking over the oil corporations, which would render millions of people unemployed. It was unlikely that they would all want to go to space.
“We will not interfere in your decisions, Mr. President,” Steve said. “Or those of your successors, as long as they don’t threaten us.
“The final item is a set of medical treatments designed to eradicate cancer,” he added. “We can only produce them in small quantities so far, so if the CDC or someone else manages to figure out how to duplicate them we would be very pleased. Again, you don’t have to take my word for this. You can take the gifts, all of them, and test them freely, as you see fit. And how you use them is up to you.”
The President gave him an odd little smile. “You don’t have political ambitions?”
Steve hesitated, trying to put his thoughts into words. “Mr. President, I was raised to be independent, to live my life without support from outside the family,” he said. “My family’s motto might as well be Live and Let Live. Ever since I became politically aware, I realised that both the Republicans and the Democrats were intent on expanding the government’s authority, without expanding the political oversight. Politicians in Washington were acting more and more like untouchable aristocrats than elected leaders of our nation. Both parties were pushing for laws that divided society and turned Americans against one another.
“I was taught that everyone deserved a chance to seek their own place in society and to be considered on their own merits. The best and brightest would rise to the top, Mr. President, but that is no longer true in America. Every single person claims to be a victim now, claiming to face discrimination when they don’t get a job or when someone is mean to them or they see something that offends them. I could give you a hundred examples of policies put forward by politicians, from Affirmative Action to Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, that have only undermined the positions of groups they were intended to help.
“But why have groups? Why insist that two people are different because of skin colour, gender, race or religion? Why not just have individuals?”
He paused. “We’re not interested in waging war on America, Mr. President, nor are we interested in attempting to reform the United States. I simply don’t believe the country can be reformed. Instead, we’re building a new society where those who wish to join us and live life on their own merits can do so. An escape hatch, if you like, from a society that is rapidly becoming intolerable.”
The President pressed his fingertips together. “You know, when I was younger, I used to read Atlas Shrugged. A guy I knew, a few years older than me, actually tried to set up a Galt’s Gulch of his own. It lasted barely a year, then fragmented.”
Steve nodded. “Why didn't you go?”
“Because the system Rand suggested was unsustainable,” the President said. “She admired the men who spearheaded the production of goods to trade, but thought little of the men who made it work. The machinists, the factory workers, even the floor sweepers. All of them had their own role to play in making the production work.
“And my friend wasn't the only one who tried to set up his own little commune. California is littered with the remains of such places. The only ones that succeeded, that achieved any measure of success, were the very low tech ones. And life there was hard.
He paused. “How do we know that your grand society is going to be different?”
Steve considered his answer carefully. Two days ago, he would have angrily denied that could ever be a possibility. But now ... the President did have a point. Their society had already trembled, as tiny as it was, in the aftermath of the attack on the ranch. Another shock like that could destroy the nation he was trying to build.
“We don’t, Mr. President,” he admitted. “It is possible that our society will come apart. But unless we try, we will never know. We have high technology, we have a stream of recruits and we have plenty of ideas for expansion. And if we fail ...
at least we will have tried.”
“True enough, I suppose,” the President said. “Do you intend to go public?”
“I was hoping to remain secret a while longer,” Steve confessed. In hindsight, embarrassing so many federal agents might not have been a bright idea. Rumours were already spreading rapidly. “Why do you ask?”
“I would prefer to try to manage how the information is released to the public,” the President said. “We’re talking about the entire world being turned upside down.”
“True,” Steve agreed. He paused. “There is one other card we would like to put on the table.”
He leaned forward. “I understand that you are preparing one final push in Afghanistan,” he said. “We have some ... devices and personnel that might be of assistance.”
“I believe that should be coordinated through the military,” the President said. He looked up at Henderson. “Colonel Henderson will act as the liaison officer between us, at least for the time before there is any public announcement. Colonel, I’ll get you high clearance and whatever else you need to get the job done properly.”
He stood. “It's been an interesting meeting, Mr. Stuart. And if things were different, I might have joined you myself.”
Steve doubted it. The President was a professional politician, born into the political class and never experienced life outside it’s charmed circle. He had no idea what it was like to live, literally, on less than a dollar a day. Or how hard it was to struggle with government bureaucracy. Would he really have tried to make a go of it on his own?
But he kept the thought to himself. Kevin was right. There was no point in making enemies for no good reason. And the President could help them get everything they needed to succeed.
“I’d like to see your starship, one day,” the President added. There was an oddly wistful note in his voice. “My eldest daughter keeps talking about becoming an astronaut.”
“She’ll have her chance,” Steve said. He had a sudden mad impulse to teleport all three of them to the starship, to give them the grand tour. But he forced it down ruthlessly. If blocking the DHS raid had had unpleasant repercussions, what would kidnapping the President do? “They’ll all have their chance, if they are willing to try.”
He watched the President go, then turned to look at his old friend. “Ready to see a whole new world?”
Henderson nodded. “Are you ... is all of this for real?”
“Have the van taken to somewhere safe for the FTD to examine,” Steve said. It would be brilliant if the FTD did figure out how to produce their own reactors. The interface had been far from helpful about how they worked. “And then I will take you somewhere that will really blow your mind.”
Chapter Thirteen
Shadow Warrior, Earth Orbit
“This ship is really unbelievable,” Jürgen Affenzeller said. “And you can do so much from up here?”
Kevin had to smile. He rather liked Affenzeller, even if he had been the person who’d seen through the cloak of secrecy and realised that something was up. It was a pity he worked for the DHS, yet with some careful nurturing perhaps Affenzeller could be convinced to switch sides and join the growing lunar settlement.
“Yes, we can,” he said, keeping his doubts to himself. “And just wait until you see some of the stuff the aliens can do.”
He tapped a switch, accessing the live feed from thousands of nanotech drones scattered across Afghanistan. The level of access was just unbelievable, so much so that he doubted he could even begin to analyse it all, even with the help of the ship’s computers. Each of the Taliban fighters lying in ambush in yet another mid-sized Afghani town had a tiny drone firmly fixed to his head, without any clue the drone was there. Even the larger models were far too small to be seen with the naked eye.
Piece by piece, they were putting together a picture of the enemy network that had simply never existed beforehand. Couriers were identified, tagged and tracked as easily as tracking wild animals in the jungle. Each of their conversations were recorded, then scanned for incriminating keywords. When certain keywords were used, a second flight of drones would be dispatched to tag the next group of insurgents and continue the process. It had only been two days since Steve and the President had come to an agreement, of sorts, and the Taliban were already on the verge of defeat. But they didn't know it yet.
He made a face as he looked down at some of the other reports. There were local policemen who weren't Taliban, but preyed on the people they were meant to protect without even the fig leaf of religious justification used by the Taliban. Some of them were simple thugs, others were drug addicts, rapists or even paedophiles. Kevin shuddered at one particular memory, then silently blessed the Hordesmen who’d brought the starship to Earth. The new settlement would never have to compromise with evil just to make progress.
And they hate us because we support one set of their enemies while claiming to fight the other set, he thought, bitterly. No wonder the Taliban sometimes looks better than the alternative. They actually have a nose for government, even if it is harsh and brutal.
It was worse, he knew. The Afghani Government was corrupt, so much so that nearly half of the foreign aid poured into the country had vanished into Swiss bank accounts. Most of the ministers were put into office based on who they knew, rather than the results of any election, and were more interested in feathering their own nests than helping to fight the Taliban. No wonder half of them were left carefully alone by their enemies. They were better advertisements for the Taliban than anything the insurgents could do for themselves.
Affenzeller coughed. “Sir?”
“I got distracted,” Kevin confessed. On the display, the drones had also carefully marked the positions of over five hundred IEDs. “Are they ready to proceed.”
“Craig says so,” Affenzeller confirmed. “He’s with the front line, ready to advance.”
Kevin nodded. Over the past two months, Coalition forces had steadily surrounded the nondescript town, trapping over three hundred insurgents inside the net. Naturally, the insurgents had prepared themselves for war, using the civilian population as human shields and press-ganged labour while they rigged their homes for demolition. And, with the human shields preventing the Coalition from simply bombing the town to rubble, the insurgents had an excellent chance of killing a few American or British soldiers.
Or so they think, he reminded himself. Let’s see how this goes.
He checked the location of the civilians again, carefully. The insurgents had pushed veiled women and children forward, using them to shield their positions. Kevin shuddered – if the women survived the engagement they would almost certainly be killed by their menfolk afterwards – and then keyed a switch. One by one, the drones attached to the insurgents reported back. Everything was in position, ready to move.
“Remote controlled warfare,” he muttered. “The dream and the nightmare.”
He cleared his throat. “Tell the Colonel that we will trigger the drones in ten minutes,” he said. “And then he should advance with care.”
***
Almena was fourteen years old and terrified out of her mind. Once, her life had revolved around cooking, cleaning and trying to learn as much as she could from her schooling, after the old restrictions on girls going to school had been removed. Now, she was a helpless prisoner, caught in the arms of a strange male. The school had been destroyed, her teachers had been killed, her brothers had been taken away and her life had become a nightmare. All she wanted now was for it to end.
She twisted, slightly, in the man’s grasp. He was older than her, wearing flowing white robes that were badly stained with something, perhaps human blood. He’d already told her that they would be married, once the battle with the infidels was over. Almena knew that he could make his promise – his threat – come true. She’d always known, from the moment she knew the difference between males and females, that one day her father would decide a suitable match for her. Her opinion would barely have
been considered. But now ... her father had lost his power to someone even worse.
He muttered something in a language she didn't recognise, then slapped her head. Almena saw stars and almost threw up, only swallowing the urge out of fear of another beating. The man snickered unpleasantly, then pointed a finger towards the edge of the town. Out there, the infidels were gathering. Almena was almost as scared of them as she was of the men who had taken her town and destroyed her family. Even if she survived, what would happen to a girl without a family? The younger girls had whispered dark stories about girls who were thrown out into the streets. Almena had never wanted to discover if any of them were true ...
The man holding her jerked, then let go. One hand clutched his forehead, then he staggered and hit the ground. Almena jumped backwards, almost tripping over the edge of her dress, unable to take her eyes off the twitching man. He convulsed once, violently, then fell still.
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