Edge of Revelation
Page 30
said the Omeyn On Board to the whole gathering.
A communication window was opened by a nearby operator to Rakul’s command ship concealed in farmland south of Cambridge. It overlaid the upper right section of Earth’s image on the screen wall before the Omeyn on Board. An empty command chair appeared first then Rakul walked across the image and sat in relaxed fashion to look out at the control bridge of the Spargar Saturn space station. He saw the Omeyn standing closest to the screen. Behind and all around were Zarnha agents working at their desks performing subsidiary tasks to the Conclave in session and the general running of Spargar missions between Braganza and planet Earth.
“Ladies,” Rakul nodded his head to acknowledge the Omeyn he could see and the remainder backing her up online that he could not. All the Omeyns silently noted Rakul’s minutely relaxed slouch with distaste and his strange attire that was vaguely military, presumably an earthly affectation.
Rakul remained unfazed by the stark language of the Omeyns. He was familiar with the directness of their approach. They had no interest in small talk with outsiders, even himself as their ‘brother’. “Things could hardly have gone better since my arrival. Much valuable data has been collected with no issues requiring corrective action. I have made contact with individuals who must have been involved with the abduction of your sister and who I expect to provide her location shortly.”
Rakul paused to consider, for effect. “The main factor is the method chosen to extract the information. I have a range of options from negotiating a deal to demanding the return of our sister by force. Each has its plus and minus points, but speed could be achieved either way. Risk of course varies with style, low-key being least risky.”
“My pleasure, ladies, I look forward to… ” Rakul’s words tailed off as the Conclave dropped the communications channel and Rakul found himself talking to an empty screen. He sat briefly with a thin-lipped smile before rising and returning to his business.
Back at the space station the Conclave had turned its attentions to the second major issue of the moment,
came the voice of the Omeyn based in Silicon Valley on Earth’s surface.
The Omeyn on Board shut down the conclave after a ritual farewell. She felt empowered by the unanimous support of the sisterhood; she did not even consider the worth of agreeing a unanimous course of action essentially with yourself. The Sisterhood had spoken with one voice. This always led to a successful outcome.
EIGHTEEN
David Harrier was sitting at his antique desk reviewing all the documents in the ‘Gayan aliens’ file when he heard Audrey’s telephone ring in the outer office. He was only expecting one visitor that morning but it was Dan Tucci, the head of AATIP, and therefore David’s opposite number as the most senior-ranking officer in the US military regarding alien affairs. David overheard Audrey asking security to send Dan over. Two minutes later the guard escorted Dan to Audrey’s desk and he heard her cordial welcome; she had met Dan several times on prior visits and knew that their offices communicated frequently even when things had been a lot quieter than they were right now. Audrey was enquiring as to the speed of Dan’s trip over and he was replying that it had been very interesting when David opened the office door and they paused their conversation.
“Hi David,” Dan said, looking David up and down. “What are you wearing today?”
“I decided to wear business-casual to greet you US-style,” David answered. He was wearing a polo shirt with an Italian puppy tooth sports jacket over jeans and brogues.
Dan was wearing a smart blue suit with white shirt and red tie. The suit was a half size small now, presumably bought some time before his barrel chest spread to become a barrel torso. “So I put on the suit and tie for my Whitehall visit as that’s what you would be wearing.” Dan smiled broadly, Audrey laughed at the double wrong take on the dress code. It broke the ice and set the meeting off in a warm atmosphere. David and Dan were of an age, both taking on these assignments at the end of active service for their countries, both facing similar challenges on the same task. David asked Audrey for a tray of tea and biscuits and waved Dan through to his office. They sat in comfortable old burgundy leather chairs around his low table. They indulged in small talk while they waited for Audrey to bring in the refreshments.
“So you had an interesting journey over with our new friends?” David could not resist the question as he recalled with awe his first trip onboard the starship Maria.
“You could say that. I heard that you got a ride in before me. That wasn’t very neighbourly of you. And you kept shtum about it.”
David looked out of the window, eyes focussed on the far distance, “In our job we spend our whole career waiting and wondering if we are wasting our time planning for aliens we don’t know even exist, then suddenly all hell breaks loose and we are thrust to the forefront of the biggest event in history.”
“Some have greatness thrust upon them, I guess,” Dan replied. “I wouldn’t have taken the job if I didn’t think something like this could happen.”
Audrey bustled in and gently laid the tray on the low table. She made as if to pour but David said they could handle it from there. Audrey turned on her heel and walked out, closing the door behind her, feeling excluded.
A soft white noise designed to disguise extraneous listening devices started up outside as David turned on full privacy electronics for the course of the meeting. A Faraday cage had been installed in the walls, floor and ceiling of his office then hidden again behind faux Georgian plaster and wood flooring that prevented electronic signals piercing the room.
“So now that it seems aliens are visiting us for real, the big question is what do we do about it?” Dan got straight to the point.
“Well, we have the Eagle Protocols that were built for these exact circumstances. We didn’t write them and whoever did probably did it as an academic exercise with no real expectation it might happen. My feeling is that they probably won’t work in this real-world situation but they give us a framework to examine the problem.”
“One process of the Eagle Protocols says for a start that upon first contact aliens will be rendered to the USA as we have the best holding and processing facilities. In this case that would probably be to Area 51.”
“Which aliens are you talking about?” David seemed surprised at Dan’s point.
“The ones we travelled with on a starship will do for a start,” Dan answered bluntly.
“Well the ones I travelled with were born here in England, and the two brothers who crewed the ship were born in Brunate, Italy. They all have verifiable family who do not consider them to be aliens in any way. The Italians have a massive family. Uncle Alonzo Pantucci, in fact, was Mayor of Como on the southern tip of the lake for eight years. I don’t see how we can render British and Italian citizens to US camps like terrorists on the basis we say they are really aliens?”
“We could arrange it as a dark ops rendition in these exceptional circumstances,” Dan offered.
“Do you think so? Even if nobody noticed students from Cambridge University and Italian engineers disappearing, have you thought about what their Gayan superiors might think of that and what they may do? They think we are their friends right now but rendering them to a camp against their will might just change all that. They might even be so irritated that they would deploy their weapons against you to reclaim their people. The fact that I haven’t witnessed any offensive weaponry onboard their ships doesn’t mean they don’t have any. I would hate to be the first to test their capabilities by pissing them off. And if they do have weaponry on board then you can bet it’s a lot more efficient than anything we can use against them.”
“That is our accepted thinking too. We never have gotten our hands on a live alien before to ask them, and it’s pretty pointless capturing a dead one – even the ones that look like alien greys just have recognisable human anatomy bent out of shape to look a bit different.”
“That’s a good point too. The ‘good guys’, if that’s what the Gayans are, seem to look exactly like us and they are warning us in advance to watch out for the bad ones we call alien greys. You have not had much luck catching either up till now and I don’t suspect you will have much chance if they don’t want to be caught. This could all be moot of course if one way or another this clandestine infiltration becomes overt in the next few months as they are telling us. Then they may just be marching into the Pentagon and Whitehall to introduce themselves!”
“I guess I agree, it’s just that it doesn’t feel right to sit by and do nothing, only wait and see. How far does this knowledge go in the UK?”
“Well, the Prime Minister knows as she was the one contacted by the Cambridge University group. They contacted us, not the other way round as it happens. Then my people got involved and my network is on alert across all of our security forces. Outside that you are the only other nation that’s aware in the Five Eyes Alliance, and certainly no others have even been considered until we get better understanding of what we are dealing with. One thing we are sure about is that we can’t go public until the PM decides how we want the public to react to it.”
“Amen to that indeed,” Dan let out a long breath. “Imagine what the media and the internet would do with even a tiny piece of this story.”
“So hopefully you will be doing the same as us short term?”
“So far we have activated our alert across all the security forces at the same level as you, ‘Mantled Eagle’, across the USA. The network know by now it’s not a drill and will be holding their breath for what comes next. We have assigned more resources to our bases here in the UK as that seems the likely physical contact point and that’s why I am over here. We invented a set of joint cover exercises to defend Northern Europe against potential Russian aggression, which at least rings true with the rank and file. More believable than alien invasion anyways!” Dan cheered up at that. “Then when I get home I will have to brief the Chief of Staff and see if he brings it to the President. If your PM knows then the President should be equally briefed, though this Chief of Staff may just keep it to himself for a while. Not many senior military got to the top by promoting the importance of Alien Affairs and he won’t want to look ridiculous if this is all some kind of a hoax.”
“Hoax? How do you explain your trip from Texas in the Maria? How much proof do you need?”
“Not me. I am convinced like you are. But the Chief of Staff is different. The Gayan guys are right. Just bringing one of us on board at once means it’s my word against his and the rest of the sceptical establishment, no corroboration. And he has lots of real-world threats to grapple with and won’t welcome something as weird as this in his in-tray. So I will brief him on the facts as they stand and hopefully he will sit on it until some verification comes along. That might keep the President out of it for the short term.”
“Until one or other alien race goes public, you mean?”
“Well, hopefully not public, but something all the top brass can see, which has to be taken seriously. After all, this whole thing could still just go away and nobody need be any the wiser.”
“I really don’t think we can plan on keeping this under wraps anymore,” David replied quietly.
*
Dan returned to Lakenheath Air Base near Cambridge after his meeting with David Harrier. It was late; the activities of the last two days overcame him and he turned in early to catch up on his sleep. He woke to a determined knock on the door of his room in the middle of the night. He felt miserable that moment as he always felt the jetlag worse travelling east. It was very dark, the quiet hours when nearly all personnel on the base were sleeping save those standing guard. Dan was irritated at first, roused as he was from deepest sleep, waking thoughts in turmoil from dreams near to the reality of his actions in the developing work situation. He shook off those thoughts quickly, but they were replaced by real-world concern about the cause of such an intrusion, which could not be trivial. “Yes, what is it?” he called to the tall rectangle of dim light that outlined the closed door.
“Important orders, sir, apologies for the interruption,” called a concerned voice from the exterior.
Dan pulled on boxers and dress pants before opening the door. Outside was a fresh-faced airman anxious to speak. “Orders from the President, Mr Tucci. You are to return to Washington for a meeting straight away.”
Dan was confused, still thinking maybe he was lost in awaking dream. “What, the President? Of the USA?”
“Correct, sir. W
e are readying a flight right away, should get you in the air in thirty minutes.”
Dan thought the timing was about right. The President would have given the order during the evening in Washington, night-time in the United Kingdom. Dan did not need to know what the meeting was about. It could only be about one thing. The young airman would have no details. “All right, son, give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be right with you.” This might be his last chance to shower and shave before attending the White House. Fifteen minutes would just about do it.
Twenty minutes later Dan was shown out to the runway where an executive jet in military livery was whining softly awaiting him. There was no other activity on the airport at 3am. A flight assistant waited on the ground by a short flight of steps attached to the inside of a curve of fuselage. The assistant took Dan’s suit carrier and laptop bag and Dan climbed into the tight doorway of the jet. The USAF’s interior designers’ work would have seemed an impressive job if Dan had not so recently travelled way beyond first class on board the Gayan spaceship Maria, but there was nobody here he could talk to about that. He merely settled in to the off-white leather armchair, strapped himself in and listened to the short recorded safety briefing as the jet taxied away immediately the door was closed behind him.
*
The President waited in the Oval Office for his first meeting of the day sitting at the solid antique Resolute Desk, so called as it was crafted from the solid oak timbers of the British ship HMS Resolute, a gift from Queen Victoria to Rutherford Hayes two centuries past. A fitting reminder of the special relationship in the light of the intelligence coming from the old ally that was confronting the President this morning. The bronze bust of Winston Churchill on the table to the right looked on at the reports like a satisfied bulldog. The President shuffled the few pages of a brief in large font across the uncluttered sweep of polished burgundy leather that protected the desktop. An aide knocked on the door. “Yes,” called the President and the aide opened the double white doors from his private sitting room off to the left.