"What if They're telling the truth?"
The big man paused.
"Then may God have mercy on our souls."
The president's wife took his hand and looked up, into his eyes. He spoke again.
"I have to do it darlin'. Samir's right. It'll be a covert operation. Just a small group with no official sanction."
"You know I'll support you. I've always supported you. I'll do whatever I can to help. But I don't think it's right. How can it be right? I'm scared Will?I'm really scared."
"I know?I know."
His arms closed around her, and they rocked slowly, comforting each other, all their past differences and indiscretions fallen away?in history.
_______________________________
2000.01.01 17:44 G.M.T.
c16 Comrades
"Dimitri, it's time to practice what we preach. I've already made a list of the equipment I know we'll need. There are a few things you'll have to bring with you that we can't provide on site. I'll send you an encrypted e-mail in a few minutes and let you know."
Leonov played the conversation with Mohammed over again in his mind. This was his destiny.
The rhythms of the universe played in strange ways. Leonov realized many years ago that he would only catch glimpses of its beauty in his life's work. But the glimpses were everything. They were like tiny windows into the soul of God himself.
Leonov was an experimental physicist at CERN.
Surrounded by various pieces of machined alloy bolted to numerous metal benches his experiments hovered between theory and reality.
Lasers snaked their way through labyrinths of mirrors, lenses and measuring instruments. High-energy particle beam generators hummed their harmonies of nature distorted and arranged to man's will. This, Dimitri, believed was the way God had allowed man to acquire his knowledge in a metered fashion. Discoveries took the right amount of time, no more, no less. Even so, his work suddenly had a meaning that overwhelmed him with its urgency.
In the post communist era of Dimitri's homeland, the belief that lay hidden for decades under the weight of doctrine had resurfaced to the welcoming faithful. Once again, after so long, there was freedom from oppression, freedom to dream, freedom to repent, freedom to be fearful?and freedom to pray.
Dimitri's life's work was now God's work. He would help put a dramatic end to the lies spread by this agent of the invaders, just as those who had toppled the grey-faced masters of his brethren had done before him. Yes, he would help Mohammed, and yes, he knew how to do it.
_________________________________
2000.01.01 18:00 G.M.T. 13:00 E.S.T.
c17 Manoeuvres
"Mr. President, all we need is the word, and we're go. Warheads are reprogrammed and ready for outer atmosphere and orbital detonation."
"Thank you General, I'm...considering that option."
He sat, pen dancing between his fingers, the most powerful man in the world. Crisis or opportunity? They had always been one and the same to him. The ability to turn a struggle for survival into votes was something that some presidents were better at than others were. It had been this president's particular forte.
"Tell me something General, if we do launch an attack, how long from the time it's a go till the time of detonation?"
"Well Mr. President, it depends on Their orbit. Could be in the range of 3 - 4 minutes."
"More than enough time for Them to counter attack?"
"They'll be looking for us."
"It'll be our last resort."
"Mr. President, I like to think of it as our first line of defence."
"Hmm. I'm sure you do. But General, you and I are in different jobs and I can't afford to do that."
"Well sir, any time you're ready."
"What's the word from Norad? Have they been able to get a fix on these guys yet anyway?"
"They think so."
"They think so?"
"Whatever kind of spaceship They're travelling in doesn't show itself like anything we've seen before. It's almost like a ghost. We seem to get a faint pattern signature of Their ship, then it just fades to nothing and reappears somewhere else with completely different coordinates from where the original vector points us. It's a problem, but our boys are working on it as we speak, and they're confident?"
"Just a minute, General, are you telling me that we're going to be pointing thousands of megatons of nuclear warheads at something that probably won't be where we think it should be by the time they arrive?"
"At this particular moment Mr. President, I would have to concur with that analysis."
"A simple 'yes' would have said it all General. Well, now, you just let me know when your 'boys' can actually tell us where the hell to point our weapons and maybe, just maybe I'll consider it more seriously, until then general, I'll wish you a good day."
"I'll keep you up to date sir."
"You do that General. You do that."
The General left the president alone in his office. Now in solitude, without the need for the public strength of face he buried his in his hands.
_________________________________
2000.01.02 11:00 G.M.T. 06:00 E.S.T.
c18 A Bad Dream?
In the first hours after the broadcast, the majority of the population had been in a state of disbelief. By the next day however, the implications of the arrival of uninvited interstellar guests were beginning to register.
People wondered.
People listened.
People shouted.
People asked for guidance.
People asked for God.
Across the world, people prayed.
To some it was already a war, to others, the beginning of the end. Many became physically sick. Some went mad. 'Free love' was practiced by more than a few since consequences may not have meaning in the future that might never come.
In an almost trance like state life went on, with a large number of people conducting their lives in a state of somewhat affected normality. But many were not all. Slowly infrastructures were beginning to disintegrate.
_______________________________
2000.01.02
c19 Toronto
Around the world it had become increasingly difficult to do anything. Of those scheduled to work most had not returned to their jobs after New Millennia Day and 'The Arrival'. Most shops were closed and services operated on skeleton staff, if at all. Flights were cancelled because many pilots would not fly. Geremy and Julia had been fortunate.
The flight to Toronto was pleasantly uneventful. The attendants were coping remarkably well considering, and it seemed that all people who continued to work were remarkably attentive and friendly to those who required their services. Everybody coped with the situation in his or her own way, and those who now worked had decided to continue with their lives as if nothing particularly out of the ordinary had happened.
Toronto was cold. But not as cold as it could have been. At the beginning of January it could be anywhere from a few degrees above to thirty-five degrees or so below freezing. It was four degrees into the positive when the plane touched down. At least this was one less thing to be concerned about, for light raincoats were all that Geremy and Julia carried.
In a short space of time they had passed through the formalities and had been greeted by their driver. Another forty minutes and they had arrived at their hotel. They'd been together little more than a day, yet all they could think of was sleep.
Six-thirty in the morning came quickly, and with a frighteningly obnoxious ring they were roused by the hotel's automated wake up call.
An hour later and they were seated at breakfast awaiting another of Mohammed's calls. They sat quietly for a minute, their thoughts to themselves, then Julia vocalized.
"Well, Geremy, this is another fine mess you've gotten me into."
He couldn't help but respond with a laugh, if only a subdued one.
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, you
should be home, with your family, not here with me, not now."
"Geremy, I don't have any close family left. My mom and dad died years ago."
The mood toned down quickly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know."
"It's okay. Time heals."
"It leaves scars."
"It does. But how wide and how deep Geremy? I know my mum and dad wanted nothing more than for me to be happy. So I try and think about them in the good times. Times that we shared together. It brings a smile to my face much more often than a tear these days. That's what they wanted. And you know Geremy, that's what I want too."
"I know you're right, it's just difficult. I mean, I find it really difficult."
The arrival of the waitress cut short their sombre discussion.
"Sir, Madame, coffee?"
"Thanks, that's wonderful."
She poured and Geremy nodded in appreciation.
"You're welcome."
The young woman left them to their own company again. Geremy sipped from his cup and looked at his watch. He shook his head and put his hand to his brow.
"There's no point in worrying Geremy. Anyway, I was beginning to think that you were something of a fatalist. Am I wrong?"
"No, no you're right. It's just everything seems so confusing right now. It's difficult to think clearly. You know, I'm really glad you're here with me."
She smiled.
"It's destiny, Geremy, that's all."
"Hmm. You might be right. If Mohammed doesn't call soon I'm going to have to?"
Just then Geremy's cell phone rang. After a few minutes discussion and the scribbling of an address and some phone numbers, Geremy said goodbye.
"Julia, we've got a problem. I'm going to have to leave here alone. Mohammed has a lab set up for us to do our work. We won't be leaving until we've finished, and then we'll be going to the site to set up. I'm afraid we won't see each other again until after this is all over. I'm sorry. So sorry. But I have to do this."
"It's okay Geremy, I expected as much, as I'm sure you did, it was just a question of how soon."
She paused a moment.
"You know I haven't spoken to you about it since Mohammed's first call, but I have to ask you now. What's the verdict Geremy? What are you going to do?"
Geremy had been waiting for the question. He studied her for a moment before replying.
"Are you asking me that as Julia the human being - part of the human race - or as Julia the reporter?"
"I suppose, to be truthful, we're one and the same Geremy. But if you tell me, I promise you I won't compromise your decision."
"I can't tell you Julia. I can't tell you because I still don't know."
He paused briefly.
But what about you? What are you going to do? Are you going to stay in the city, or do you have other plans?"
"Well, it would have been pretty pointless my coming if I didn't intend to stay wouldn't it? I think you know me well enough now to realize that I won't sit still waiting, either, don't you? No, now I'm here I'm going to put my reporter's hat back on."
"Was it ever off?"
Julia's rebuttal was to stare at Geremy for a moment.
"I've put my trust in you Julia, you can't tell a soul what we're doing, you know that."
"I just told you Geremy, I won't compromise your?What shall we call it? Your 'mission'? No, you know I've put that story on hold until it's all over, but without letting anyone know my source, I think I can break the news on where the meeting's going to be held. If it's okay with you."
Geremy thought for a moment.
"Why do you feel you have to Julia?"
"Because it would be a coup for me, and, in the end everyone will find out anyway. It's not something that can be a secret for very long, so it may as well be me to break the story. Don't you agree?"
"Personally I would prefer you didn't. It gives more opportunity for others to act. Mohammed is specifically targeting the alien. If other groups have the same idea I don't think they'll be as sophisticated in their plans. Can you imagine eliminating all the world's leaders in one stupid manoeuvre? No, Julia, I really don't think it's a good idea."
"But I?You're probably right Geremy. Anyway, I don't want to part arguing. When do you have to leave?"
"Now."
"Now? What about breakfast?"
Geremy got up from the table.
"Apparently provisions await."
Julia mirrored his rising.
He looked at her with a good-natured frown. She smiled in return.
"Then kiss me and promise me we'll be together again soon."
Julia put her arms around Geremy's waist and her head on his shoulder.
"I tell you what, if the world hasn't been laid to ruin, I'll see you at the hotel for breakfast on the fifth. How's that?"
"Sounds good, Geremy. It sounds really good."
They held each other closely and tightly for a minute.
"Julia, I have to go now?"
In the short time they had been together Geremy's heart had made a decision.
"?I love you."
Without hesitation Julia replied.
"I love you too Geremy."
_________________________________
2000.01.02 15:00 G.M.T. 10:00 E.S.T.
c20 Taking notes
The sound of telephones, keyboards and people shouting made the area as noisy as the trading floor of a stock exchange. But this was an exchange of information.
"Don Forsythe."
"Don, it's Julia."
"Julia! How are you?"
"I'm fine. I'm fine."
"Are you still in Europe?"
"Well, I was, but I met someone..."
"Aha."
"...Listen Don, I have some inside information on the meeting."
"What meeting?"
"Don! The meeting. Remember our extraterrestrial visitors?"
"Whoa, go on, you've got my attention Julia."
"Hmm. You've got to give me something in return Don. Is there going to be a press box at this event?"
"Yes there is, the aliens haven't said anything specifically disallowing our presence, so the arrangements are being made, but from what we understand it's only going to be a very select group of well known journalists. I'm sending Geoff Johnson."
"You might want to reconsider that decision Don."
Don Pascal edited one of the most prestigious newspapers in the world linked with international television and radio affiliates. His mind worked swiftly.
"Are you saying you want to represent us at this thing?"
"You've got in one Don."
"Look, I already?"
"Don, I know where it's happening."
"You know where this alien's going to be making His debut appearance?"
"The information is completely sound. But don't ask me about the source. I can't tell you."
"I can't run this thing on a hunch Julia. You're absolutely sure?"
"110%?Now do I get to go?"
"Okay, okay. You've got it."
"I have your word on this Don?"
"Yes, yes. Tell me where it's going to be and we'll make the arrangements to get you there."
"It's okay. I'm already here. But Don, there's something else."
"I should have known. What is it?"
"You can't break this yet. You have to give me your word. Think about the security for the leaders of the world. You have to promise."
"So when can we release it?"
"Promise Don."
"Okay, okay, I promise. Now what about the news?"
"Why don't you keep an eye on the 'SkyDome' in Toronto, and as soon as there's some action down there you can run the story."
"The SkyDome, is it? You realize we'll probably lose the lead by waiting that long?"
"Don, this is too important to run without proper consideration. You know that."
"Alright, I'll consider it. Anything else I should know?"
"I don't have any
other information yet. Obviously I'll call as soon as I do."
"Why the hell would They pick Toronto in the winter? Sounds like we've got some definitive proof They're aliens anyway."
"Actually, it's not that cold here right now, and the people are really friendly. Maybe that's why They picked it. And I don't think that there are too many nations that truly hate Canadians, which makes it a good neutral meeting place. But who knows for sure? I just know it's going to be here. If you get our TV guys to send a crew up, I'll brief them when they get here."
"Do you have a number where I can reach you?"