by Gene Brewer
A younger woman (she reminded me of Laura Chang, a former colleague) in the back of the room raised her hand, and I nodded warily to her. “Isn’t there an inconsistency here? If they are so opposed to killing, how can they justify killing seven billion people?”
“I don’t think they plan to kill us per se. I don’t know — maybe we’ll be transported to another planet. Or to another dimension, for all I know. As I said, they haven’t told me exactly what they have in mind for us.”
A portly man in a beautiful blue suit asked, in a nasal Midwestern accent, “What does Walter say about our religions? Do they believe in the same God that we do?”
“Walter says there is no God. That’s why a death is so tragic.”
There was a period of silence while that information was digested. The young woman in the back smiled and said, “The Bullocks just lost their credibility with that one.”
I retorted that they’d probably get it back after the demonstration they’re planning. The smile disappeared.
The familiar news anchor asked, “When did you say this demonstration will take place?”
“As I said before, I don’t know. Probably soon.”
A woman with a German accent lifted a hand, but didn’t wait for recognition. “I’d like to direct this question to the President if I may. Mr. President, it seems to me that Dr. Brewer doesn’t really know much about these Bullocks’ plans or what we really need to do to meet their demands. We’re not even sure they’re for real. Is the government holding anything back?”
Reluctantly I stepped aside, and the President returned to the podium. Essentially ignoring the questioner, he looked directly into the eyes of the cameras. “As you know, the story was already leaked last night or early this morning. We don’t know who leaked it, but that’s unimportant now. Dr. Brewer and I didn’t plan to have this press conference prematurely, and we don’t yet know much about the Bullocks or their intentions. We are here to reassure the people of the world that there is absolutely no need for immediate concern. We have all been asked to do something that is theoretically possible to accomplish, and if we all work together, we should be able to pull it off. I’m not saying this will be easy, and no one should be led to think it will be. But people need to go about their daily lives for the next year without thinking the world is going to come to an end. This will require some restraint on the part of the news media, and maybe even some encouragement. There will be some who will push the panic button, and I can see certain potential headlines now, such as: ALIENS PLAN TO DESTROY US IF DEMANDS NOT MET, or some such thing. That is exactly what we don’t want to convey to the world’s population. We need to suggest possibilities. Give people hope. A panic on the order of a global epidemic or the like would make our task virtually impossible to accomplish. Headlines like the one I just mentioned would be a self-fulfilling prophecy. Is there anyone here who would disagree with this assessment?”
“No, Mr. President, but those are the facts, are they not? If these aliens are in our midst, as you and Dr. Brewer claim, they plan to eliminate us in some way if their demands aren’t met. Isn’t this what you’re saying?”
“As far as we know, this is true. Nevertheless, we need to remember, and to emphasize to your readers and viewers, that this can be avoided, and that we must cooperate with the Bullocks, to every extent possible, to see that it doesn’t happen. We can do this, but we need to begin now. For this reason, today I am ordering a moratorium on capital punishment in every state, and I’m going to ask the Secretary of Defense to begin rapidly scaling down all ongoing military operations, including drone strikes. I’m also going to convene a meeting of all the governors of the various states to assess all police activity within their jurisdictions to see what can be done to urge officers to use restraint at all times, regardless of the circumstances. We will also be working with world leaders to ask for similar restrictions in their respective countries.”
The President paused for only a moment, and I could almost feel him organizing his thoughts. “We are all in this together, folks. Everyone in the world. Everyone. This is what the American people need to hear. We trust that you will make the effort to assure the people that we are all working on this problem and that, together, we can accomplish our mission. Yes, call it a mission. A year doesn’t give us much time, but if we work hard, it may be sufficient time. We have an entire year to get our message to the people and to make sure everyone understands what is at stake and what it will take to achieve this goal. But first, you all need to convince yourselves that there is hope and that we can work together to make that hope a reality. You are the first line of defense against the naysayers and the doubters who will try to undermine our objective. I’m personally asking you to help us with this. If we can avoid a potential disaster, the entire world will be in your debt.
“Now I’m going to give the microphone back to Dr. Brewer, who will answer any additional questions you might have about the Bullocks and how we can deal with them through him.”
There was a round of applause. For a moment I thought it was for me, but I quickly realized it was for the President’s eloquent appeal for calm and restraint in the face of a possible threat to human life on planet Earth.
The remaining questions were almost trivial, or repeats and clarifications of what had already been said. Someone again wanted to know when we could expect Walter’s “demonstration.” He confessed there was still a great deal of doubt in his mind about the whole thing. All I could do was shrug my shoulders.
The President tried to bail me out again. “The Bullocks came here two days ago. We simply haven’t had time to dig that deeply into the problem. We were forced to hold this press conference prematurely. We should be able to answer all your questions more completely in the next few days.” Perhaps he had noticed that I was becoming visibly tired. In any case, someone stepped up and said, “Thank you Mr. President, and thank you, Dr. Brewer.” At that point the room erupted in noise and confusion, and most of the members of the press core rushed out to do what they were compelled to do.
On the way out the door between the gold drapes, the President shook my hand. “Very well done, Dr. B. For a first press conference, you did an admirable job.”
“You mean there are going to be others?”
He chuckled and said, “Who can predict the future?”
With that we returned to the Oval Office, where I was asked if I’d like anything to eat or drink. “Rye on the rocks?” I replied, requesting our usual before-dinner cocktail. The President waved a finger at someone, and said, “For everyone.” The drinks came in a matter of minutes, and I could sense the relaxation creep into every soul in that room. As soon as our stomachs were warmed, we talked, unbelievably, about the chances of the Knicks in the upcoming season. “I’m always hopeful, Mr. President.”
“So am I,” he responded. “Of course, I have to be.”
“Thank you for bailing me out back there,” I said. “You set the right tone, and I feel better about what might happen. I think everyone does.”
“I hope we were able to get our message across,” he replied. “I underestimated the degree of skepticism we would encounter. Let’s hope that Walter’s upcoming demonstration will quell that doubt.”
“And that no one will be hurt by it,” I added.
“Amen to that,” he said gravely. “Do you have any sense whatever of what they have in mind?”
“None at all, Mr. President.”
He nodded. “At least the secret is out,” he said, “and we can concentrate on the main problem we’re all facing. Tomorrow morning we get back on schedule. A lot more work to do.”
We finished our drinks, and the Vice-President, Mike, and I, along with our usual entourage, returned to the helicopter, whose rotor was already slowly turning. I saw the famous historical structures shining in their respective spotlights as we returned once again to the airpo
rt and the flight home. I know we had an elegant dinner aboard Air Force Two, though I can’t remember what I ate. I fell asleep immediately afterward while the VP and the indefatigable Mike were discussing the morrow’s schedule.
It was nearly eleven o’clock when I got in the door. Karen was waiting up for me. Actually, she was sleeping in the living room chair, but she came awake when she heard me come in, running to greet me as I sagged to the sofa. “You were wonderful,” she assured me.
“It’s funny. I was terrified when we came into the press room, but once I got to the podium I was fine, even though I couldn’t answer many of the questions. I think I could get used to fame. It’s too bad it had to come under such awful circumstances.”
I was still feeling pretty good when we went to bed, and didn’t go to sleep right away, though my lovely wife soon drifted off.
“Good evening, doctor.”
The leaves are beautiful, the leaves are —
“Yes, we know. You’ve already mentioned that.”
“What do you want, Walter?”
“You have questions for me.”
“Well, yes, I guess I do. But I don’t know if you will want to answer them.”
“What are they?”
“You know about the press conference.”
“Yes.”
“Were you there?”
“Of course.”
“Then you must know a lot of people don’t believe you exist, and that the most important question that came up concerned your demonstration. You didn’t tell me what you’re planning and when it is going to happen.”
“Very soon.”
“Very?”
“Anything else?”
“What about killings that are justified?”
“There are no justified killings.”
“But surely there are cases of self-defense, for exam — ”
“The universe honors someone who doesn’t kill far more than one who kills to save himself.”
“Not on Earth.”
“That’s part of your self-centeredness. You’re going to have to rethink the logic of that.”
I understood immediately that this was going to be a problem, but I let it go for the time being. “There was a question about what happens after the two trial years, if I may call them that. I presume that if we meet your goal we will have to restrain ourselves from killing anyone for a while?”
“Did you think this was a one-time thing, doctor? Nediera is forever!”
“And there is no leeway? No margin for error?”
“How many times must we explain our terms?”
“And if we fail to — ”
“Then you will cease to be a burden on the universe.”
I knew there wouldn’t be much room for compromise, but I asked the question anyway: “Is any negotiation possible? You want the killing stopped, and we might be able to do that, but maybe not in a year. We have become who we are over a period of 100,000 years or more. One year to change our entire makeup is asking too much. We might be able to satisfy the universe and make everyone happy, but it might take a little longer than you’re demanding. For example, we might be able to reduce the killing by 10% a year for the next decade. Is that something you can work with?”
There was a pause, which rarely happened with the Bullocks. I wondered whether they had gone. I was almost asleep when they said, “No.”
At the risk of instant annihilation I said, “Isn’t there any room for negotiation? I don’t think you’re being fair.”
“Is ending the life — the only one it will ever have — of any being fair?”
“What if you kill only the killers? That would be fair, wouldn’t it?”
In a roar I hadn’t heard for a while: “Can’t you understand a simple universal truth? It’s a disease of your DNA. You’re all potential killers!”
After another period of silence, they said in a low voice, “Here’s something fair: If there are no guns shown on your television sets anytime in the next twenty-four hours, we’ll let you off that hook.”
I screamed, “I’ve already told you: We can’t change overnight!”
Was that a laugh I heard? Whatever it was, I didn’t hear it again that night. Nevertheless, I thought that perhaps some progress had been made. Or maybe I had made everything even worse. But I had done all I could for one day. I had gotten through a Presidential press conference, stood up to the Bullocks, and my conscience was clear. For once I slept like a baby.
DAY FOUR
I woke up feeling better than I had in days. For the first time, I felt as though I might be able to complete the mission that was thrust upon me. I had, after all, (with the President’s help) answered questions from the national news media, as well as several foreign correspondents. It seemed to me that the speech to the United Nations Security Council couldn’t be much worse. I had only to tell them why the Bullocks had come and what they wanted from us, something that was becoming as familiar as the back of my hand. Then I remembered that the existence of human life on Earth might depend on how well I conveyed that message, and my confidence quickly dissipated and I became moody again. My annoyance was not alleviated in the slightest with the news that son-in-law Steve was on the phone and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Reluctantly I picked up the bedroom extension. “Hello, Steve. How’s it going?”
“Ah saw your press conference last night, and Ah came up with an idea. Right now you’re surrounded by a bunch of politicians that don’t know shit from Shinola. You need to have a scientist along when you’re talkin’ to the Bullocks. Someone who can speak their language.”
“Steve, it doesn’t work that way. There’s no shortage of scientists here.”
“Do they go home with you? Hang out in your backyard?”
“Well, no, but — ”
“There you go. What if Ah come over and stay for a while?”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea, Steve. The Bullocks might not like it if a stranger suddenly appeared.”
“So introduce me.”
Karen was waving at me from the doorway. “Got to go now, Steve. I’ll talk to you later.”
“What about that introduction?”
“All right, all right. I’ll think about it.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Yes, dammit, it’s a promise.”
“Can you call back tonight? Even if you don’t want to talk to me, your grandson would like to say hello.” Before I could ask which one, he hung up.
Karen said, “Mike is here.”
Still wearing my pajamas, I went with her to the kitchen. For some reason I remembered that fled had first appeared at the kitchen door, then ate a bowl of dried beans at the table. How I longed for those simple days when there was only a normal alien to deal with, and no demands imposed. Yet, it was fled who warned us that the Bullocks were coming. Stupidly, we had virtually ignored her. Even I hadn’t taken her seriously. “Hello, Mike. Do I have time for breakfast and a shower? Or is the sky falling again?”
“Breakfast is on its way. You don’t smell so bad — maybe you could skip the shower.”
“Very funny. Anyway, what’s the urgency?”
“We’ve found the cone-shaped device you buried several years ago. It’s in the trailer, and the scientists are trying to analyze it. But it’s a lot more than you thought it was.”
I was so sickened when I saw the patients’ mind readings (elicited by fled) projected by the cone that I hadn’t explored the damn thing any further before burying it. It hadn’t occurred to me at the time that there might be something else there. “What else is on it?”
“The K-PAXians have visited thousands of worlds, and there are videos and holograms from some of those. And that barely scratches the surface. There are evolutionary charts for these sample
planets. Including ours.”
“Really? How far back does it go?”
“To the beginning.”
“You mean K-PAXians were here millions of years ago?”
He shrugged.
“Anyway, what’s so great about that? Don’t we already know how we evolved?”
“Not exactly. It describes several of our ancestors, and what happened to them, including the Neanderthals and a lot of others.”
“What happened to them?”
“Every single species eliminated the one that came before.”
“Oh.”
“It’s a wonder the Bullocks weren’t here a long time ago,” Karen said.
Mike replied, “Maybe they were, but were hoping we’d evolve again.”
“So the cone’s about evolution?” I asked him.
Mike shook his head. “It’s a lot more than that. But I’ll let Dr. Uttley tell you about it.”
“Who’s Dr. Uttley?”
“He’s a physicist and a chemist and a few other things. Has four Ph.D.’s. He’s in charge of the team that’s trying to decipher the thing.”
“Where is it now?”
“It’s over in the trailer, but it will soon be on its way to Washington. We thought you might like to take a look at it before they whisk it away.”
I told him about Steve, that he wanted to be in on all this.
“Maybe he’d like to be part of Dr. Uttley’s team. They can use all the help they can get.”
“He wants to be more directly involved. He wants to talk to Walter.”
“That would be up to Walter, don’t you think?”
“Maybe they wouldn’t care if he hangs around. Walter speaks to me with the G-men around. Unless they don’t hear us for some reason.”
“None of them have reported hearing anything, anyway. And the surveillance cameras haven’t shown us much.”