Outside Context Problem: Book 02 - Under Foot

by Christopher Nuttall

  She frowned as she stepped into the bunker, feeling a gust of cold air brushing across her face. The entire system had one major weakness and that was that there was no escape tunnel. The engineers who’d built the whole complex – somehow without alerting the town to its existence – hadn’t been able to install one without risking all their hard labour. If the aliens ever occupied Mannington directly, they’d be able to trap and capture – or kill – the President. She wasn't happy about that at all, but unless they could move the President elsewhere without attracting attention, there was no other choice.

  “Pepper,” the President said. He was seated at the computer, staring at the screen without seeing it. He looked tired and worn, even though he followed a rigorous exercise program every day. “Anything from the surface?”

  “Nothing new,” Pepper said. She made a habit of walking around every day, just to get a feel for the area, even though it had risks. It drew attention to her and that was unwelcome. “There doesn’t seem to be any major change.”

  There was a chime from the radio before the President could answer. The main media networks had gone down in the wake of the aliens shooting down the satellites, although streaming internet video and some other systems had kept some major players going. The BBC still broadcast from London. The US media had been largely replaced by the internet and talk radio, but both of them were somewhat unreliable. It made no real change.

  “This is the Emergency Broadcasting System,” a voice said. “Please stand by for a message from the President.”

  They exchanged puzzled glances. The aliens had used the EBS before to issue orders, but they had never broadcast a message from the President. How could they?

  The voice on the airwaves was terrifyingly familiar. “My fellow Americans,” he said. Pepper recognised Jacob Thornton’s voice at once. “A major crisis has arisen in our affairs. We must adapt ourselves to the new realities that face us…”

  Pepper saw the horrified look on the President’s face as his former Vice President continued to speak, the poisonous words rolling out one after the other, each one hitting Pepper in the heart. It distracted her from her principle, a lapse that her trainers would have reprimanded her for, yet she couldn’t help it. She had grown used to the idea of betrayal from people who were weak, or had no choice, but the Vice President…the war against the aliens had just become a civil war.

  “All government employees are ordered to return to work at once,” Thornton concluded. “There will be further bulletins as events warrant.”

  “Turn it off,” the President snarled, as the message began to repeat. “That’s not him.”

  Pepper keyed the radio off. “That’s not him?”

  The President’s mouth ground wordlessly. “That’s his voice, that’s his mouth, but it’s not him,” he snarled. “Jacob had no love for fucking fancy talking, any more than I had. He was always one to say just what he meant, to call it as he saw it.” His voice hardened. “We must adapt to the new realities facing us…that’s not Jacob’s way of speaking. Someone put those words in his mouth and made him say them.”

  Pepper saw. “At gunpoint?”

  “More likely with his family being held at gunpoint,” the President said, before shaking his head. “No…I don’t think he spoke those words of his free will at all. We never did figure out what they had in mind when they abducted humans and took them to their polar base, but learning how to control humans…yes, that would make sense. They captured him somehow, either by luck or careful planning, and took control of his mind. Shit!”

  “My God,” Pepper said. It added a whole new dimension to the war. The collaborators…no one would know if they were acting of their own free will, or if the aliens had put them under control. “How many people are going to follow the Vice President if they think he’s working with the aliens?”

  “The Vice President is normally about as useful as tits on a bull,” the President growled. “Now…now I don’t know.” For the first time since Pepper had known him, he looked old. “I don’t know at all.”

  Chapter Four

  Washington DC, USA (Occupied)

  Day 98

  I wonder if I’m making a mistake…

  General (Retired) Dave Howery stopped as he approached the heart of alien activity in Washington, a set of hotels that had been cleared of their guests – those who had remained in the city after the war began – and handed over to the collaborator government by the aliens. A set of alien warriors had sealed off the area and were denying access to anyone who didn’t have a specific ID Card or permission to enter the complex. It didn’t have the majesty of the White House or the Senate, but both of those buildings were nothing more than piles of rubble, at least until they could be rebuilt. Somehow, Dave doubted that the aliens would bother.

  The message had been clear. He was ordered to present himself at the complex at a certain time. It hadn’t included any threats or dire warnings of what would happen if he refused, but it didn’t take a genius to know that if the aliens decided he’d refused to show up, they’d take it out on his family. They’d stockpiled food and drink before the panic set in, yet that wouldn’t last forever, even if the aliens left them alone. He’d made one mistake in not getting out of the city before it was too late and now…now he was a prisoner, as much as anyone else in Washington. The thought made him smile as the alien warriors ran a sensor over his body and checked his ID. The collaborators might think otherwise, but they were prisoners too. If they displeased their new masters, all they’d have to do is let them go and allow the humans on the outside to take care of them. Two days ago, a collaborator – a former social worker who’d been charged with distributing food supplies to the humans within the city – had been skinned alive by someone. No one knew if it was resistance activity or just a sadistic murderer, but everyone was on edge. The collaborators watched their backs with care. They knew that they could expect no mercy from their fellow humans.

  A girl, barely out of her teens, was waiting for him as he was waved through the gate. She looked oddly familiar, although he couldn’t place her. She certainly looked cleaner than his own daughter, yet that was merely because she’d had unlimited access to hot running water, while everyone outside the collaborators had only limited access. Dave wasn't sure if the aliens were doing that because they wanted to encourage people to collaborate, or because they hadn’t fixed the water systems yet, or if they just didn’t care. The leader-aliens didn’t seem to have noses. They smelled terrible as well. The thought made him smile and he saw the girl flinch. She didn’t want to be where she was, any more than Dave did.

  “Follow me,” she said, and turned to lead him up the stairs. “The Director is waiting for you.”

  Something clicked in Dave’s mind. “You’re the girl who discovered the bastards!”

  “And you’re the General who wanted to invade Canada,” the girl said. Her name was…Karen, if he recalled correctly. He was so pleased with remembering that he almost missed her next words. “I wish you’d fled Washington with the rest of them.”

  “Me too,” Dave said. “Which Director wants to see me?”

  “The Director of Human Resources,” Karen said. “Follow me.”

  The interior of the hotel was a striking look at how the rich and famous lived. He hadn’t seen so much gold and gilt since he’d been in Baghdad and occupied one of Saddam’s famous palaces, built while millions of his own people had starved to death. Hundreds of humans milled about, some clearly collaborators, some clearly servants…and some, like Karen, who didn’t look happy to be there. They passed a line of naked girls as they descended the stairs, heading down to…where? It made no sense at all.

  “Jesus,” he muttered, barely loud enough for Karen to hear. “It’s like they’re having an orgy.”

  “They are having an orgy,” Karen said. Her voice was very soft, but he could hear an underlying current of bitterness. “The defenders of the new order need their entertainment after a
hard day’s work. Those girls…it’s work on their backs, or be blazed. Not much of a choice.”

  Dave said nothing as they reached a massive set of doors. At a guess, it was one of the suites for the very rich and famous, although if he’d been rich and famous, he wouldn’t have wanted to strut around in Washington, not when he could have retired to somewhere well away from the remainder of the human race. It opened at Karen’s touch, revealing an alien leader and a pair of workers. Dave stared, unable to help himself. It was the first time he’d seen an alien in person and the massive dark eyes captivated him. The alien seemed to be looking deep into his very soul, before it made a slight inclination of its great head and strode off, followed by the two workers.

  It was suddenly a struggle to speak. “Who…what…?”

  “One of their liaison officers to the provisional government,” Karen said. Dave was frankly amazed that she could say that with a straight face. A liaison officer was military shorthand for superior officer. They always thought they knew best and issued orders whenever the mood struck them. “And his servants.”

  “I see,” Dave said, as Karen led him towards a second door. “And they make full use of the facilities?”

  “They seem to like the swimming pool,” Karen said. “I’ve seen dozens of them splashing around, tossing water at each other like little kids. I don’t think they make any other use of the facilities here.”

  “The mind boggles,” Dave said. The door read DIRECTOR OF HUMAN RESOURCES. The mindset behind it appalled him. The aliens meant it in a whole new way. “Why…?”

  Karen caught his arm. “Agree to whatever they want,” she said, sharply. “Good luck.”

  The door swung open, revealing a surprisingly small office. “General Howery, Director,” Karen said. “I thought…”

  “Thank you, Karen,” the Director said. She barely looked up from the file she was reading. “You are dismissed.”

  Dave took a moment to study her, half-amused by how she was pretending to read the file. It was a very old dominance game, played by almost everyone who had been promoted above their level of competence. Summon the subordinate, he knew, and then do something to make it clear that their time is not as important as yours. It never seemed to change. The Director – Daisy Fairchild, he remembered – looked like a ball-buster, but one of the good kind, the ones who would go the extra mile themselves if necessary. Somehow, he wasn't surprised that someone from SETI would end up working for the aliens. They had always worshipped the possibility of alien life.

  “You have a very interesting career,” Daisy said, without preamble. She placed the file on her desk in the perfect position for him to read the title, and wince inwardly. It was a copy of a Pentagon file, which meant…that the aliens had captured at least some of the Pentagon’s records. Personnel files weren't as critical as some, but it was a disturbing sign. “You joined the army, streamlined into combat infantry, served in Panama, Afghanistan and Iraq, commanded a unit in some unpronounceable city for a couple of years, recalled home to serve as a training officer, held a command position in the briefly-reconstructed Continental Command…and retired under something of a cloud. Would you care to explain why?”

  Dave made a motion toward the file. “It should all be in there, Director,” he said.

  “Oh, please don’t call me Director,” Daisy said. “You’ll make me feel old. Call me Daisy if you have to call me anything. And I would like to hear the answer from your own mouth.”

  “There was this…terrorist group who appeared in the north back before I retired,” Dave said, finally. “They shot people, placed bombs and generally caused havoc, even though their media groupies tried to turn them into heroes. The military ended up playing a role in dealing with them. Towards the end, we realised that their funding came directly from Canada and radical groups there…and the Canucks weren’t going to do anything about it. I took it public and advised that we prepare at once for an invasion of Canada. The then-President didn’t appreciate my attitude and I was told that it would be a good thing if I retired before I caused a diplomatic incident.”

  It still hurt, years afterwards. He hadn’t been the one taking pot-shots at innocent American civilians. No country could be allowed to support, even though omission, attacks on American civilians, yet the government had nearly allowed Canada to get away with it. Only the massive public protest and the economic damage had convinced Canada’s socialist government to take harsh measures against their unwanted guests. Canada hadn’t even experienced a wave of terrorist attacks after plucking up their courage and taking out the bastards.

  “We have a specific task for you,” Daisy said, firmly. “The world has changed. The People have…occupied parts of America, but we need a human armed force serving alongside them to…ah, make it easier for humans to accept their presence. We have hundreds of volunteers to serve as their soldiers, but they need leadership. We’re looking to you to provide that leadership.”

  Karen’s words echoed in his head. Agree to whatever they want…

  “I see,” he said, finally. “You want me to serve as a…Benedict Arnold?”

  “We want you to be realistic,” Daisy said. “The People are here. We’re never going to get rid of them. We have to adapt and make ourselves useful to convince them that the human race serves their purpose by being alive. This isn’t a war against the Chinese, or the Russians, but an alien power. The entire world has changed! We need you to prevent the world from becoming any worse.”

  She held his eyes. “There have been hundreds of resistance acts over the last few days,” she said. “So far, the aliens have refrained from reprisals, but how long will it be before they choose to simply hit back? We need you to prevent that day from ever coming?”

  There was a long pause. “What do you say?”

  “I was thinking,” Dave said. She’d tempted him, all right, tempted him with a return to command rank and a chance to create an army of his own, but he had no intention of accepting. Briefly, he considered faking his allegiance and biding his time, but it was a high-risk plan with a significant chance of failure…and then his family would suffer. “I, Dave Howery, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic…”

  “The Founding Fathers didn’t anticipate an alien invasion of the United States,” Daisy snapped. “The Constitution is not a suicide pact!”

  “No, it isn’t,” Dave agreed. “I served my country well for years, even if my country decided to disperse with my services rather than piss off a bunch of cowardly terrorists and their allies. You’re asking me to betray all that just to serve the enemy and bring my country under their heel. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  “I’m talking about adapting to new realities,” Daisy said, controlling herself with an effort. “I’m talking about…”

  “Treason,” Dave countered. “I won’t have a part in it.”

  ”You don’t have a choice,” Daisy said. “Your family…”

  Dave went for her, hands outstretched to snap her neck, but a massive shape crashed into him and knocked him to the ground. The alien warrior had appeared out of nowhere and tackled him. Dave prided himself on his situational awareness and the alien had sneaked up on him…or had it teleported in? No, they weren’t that advanced…

  “I’m sorry,” Daisy said, “but I meant it. You don’t have a choice.”

  The alien warrior pulled a long thin rod off its belt and pushed it against Dave’s head. There was a brief moment of…discontinuity…and he found himself lying on a bed, unable to move anything below his head. He was in darkness, yet he was somehow sure that there were shapes within that darkness, chilling his blood. They were half-seen at best and his imagination filled in the details. Anything could be lurking in the darkness, waiting to spring.

  “All right,” he said. His voice sounded pitiful and weak in his own ears. “What do you want?”

  A looming shape i
n the darkness revealed itself as one of the worker aliens, but with a larger head and long delicate fingers. “We want your allegiance,” he said. There was a faint note of something…inhuman in his voice. “Your race has a problem. Obedience does not come easily to you.”

  Dave stared at the alien. “This country was founded on disobedience,” he said, finally. “What are you going to do to me?”

  “Your people do not have the proper habits of obedience,” the alien said. A brilliant green light shone down from overhead, illuminating Dave’s body as he lay on the bed. “You will be taught the virtues of control and understanding. You will learn to obey.”

  “Obey?” Dave asked. “Obey who?”

  “Obey your leaders,” the alien informed him. A pencil-thin beam of blue light appeared out of the darkness and stabbed down at his head. Dave suddenly felt as if his mind was floating freely above his body. “You will learn that this is all for your own good.”

  “Wait,” he said, desperately. There was something about the beam of light that unmanned him completely. “I’ll serve you. I’ll work for you. I’ll obey you…”

  “You do not have the proper habit of obedience,” the alien repeated. “Your race has a problem. Those we wish to serve us do not wish to serve us and believe that they can plot against us. You were offered your chance to serve in good faith, yet we could not allow you to leave without agreeing to serve. You are ours now.”

  The beam of blue light suddenly became painful and Dave blacked out.

  ***

  He was sitting in a chair, feeling calm and relaxed. It should have alarmed him – he knew, somehow, that it should have alarmed him – yet he felt completely at peace. The world was passing by outside, yet…his mind was drifting, remembering happier times and places, the birth of his children, the graduation into the Army, the happy days with his father before the old man died…