Ally or Alien: A Sci-Fi Novel (4 page)

The president gave her an approving nod and a slow clap.

He looked almost impressed.

"I have to say—that sounds pretty good. No cost and big results, that's my kind of winning."

He looked around his elite staff.

"Any objections?"

No one dared to speak up. Most gentlemen nodded, the others focused on some invisible spots near the wall. Only the Secretary of Space Defense wrestled with his mouth. His insides cooked, Fahrenheit 911.

He wanted to take that treacherous rat of a representative and smash her face into the table's corner. But he had to admit—the woman was eloquent. Knew how to pull the president's triggers, appealing to his ego.

So he bit his lips, sank back into his chair and steamed off.

Pondered a new way to convince the incompetent commander-in-chief.

He had to show Lucas C. Wright, and the world, how dangerous it was to let the Newtype deal with the alien threat...

9

About three hours later, in the city of Falls Church, Greater Washington.

Home of the politicians, the servicemen and the retired CEOs and their plasto-enhanced trophy spouses. The Secretary of Space Defense, Taurus McCloud, sacked into his recliner, out in the emerald-green garden in front of his two-floored colonial mansion. The man chewed on a double-sized Half Smoke sandwich and pondered his predicament. He sucked the juicy blood from the meal's surface and moaned with pleasure. 

His wife threw another portion onto his plate, while the two kids played gravball in the backyard. The late afternoon sun drowned the idyllic suburbia into a golden taint. Beautiful to look at, but hard to enjoy when frustration boiled your insides up.

Taurus was so entangled in his thoughts, he almost choked on the beef piece. 

Mrs. McCloud curled her lips.

"Taurus, it can't be that bad, can it?"

"It's worse."

He gulped down the piece.

"I'm surrounded by bureaucratic imbeciles that think a hostile alien invading our solar system is no biggie."

"But didn't you say the creature was stuck on Mars? Surely the Newtype can handle it."

He gave her a look cold enough to freeze the BBQ.

Had everyone lost their mind?

"Sweetie, you have never dealt with the Newtype, and neither have these office sitters in the president's advisory board. You just don't know how these soulless shells operate."

He looked her deep into the eyes to make sure she got the message.

Doreen nodded.

"Did you tell that to the board?"

Nah, but he wished he did.

“Everyone's so damn pro-Newtype nowadays, saying anything bad against them makes me look like a bigot. And that would tarnish my reputation, especially if the media from the West Coast would know about this."

Because politics...was all about politics.

Serve your territory with pride and efficiency for over two decades and life looked good, but do one bad PR move, and out you go. 

Massacred by the media.

Cyber-bullied into oblivion by a vocal minority with global reach.

Damn the web.

Taurus cringed inside.

Citizens of the AC had become so sensitive. Just the other day, a high-ranking official of the fleet wore a T-shirt with a Newtype caricature on it, saying, "Newtard".

Didn't matter he wore the shirt at home, in private.

The West Coast media freaked out.

The popular newsfeed, eQuality News, wrote: 

"I don't care if the American Commonwealth has reached the rims of the Milky Way Galaxy, your T-shirt is still Newtypophob."

Newtyp-o-phob.

Come on now, was that even a real word?

Forget it.

Taurus pushed his butt into his recliner and swallowed down the last piece of the beefy sandwich. He watched the families pass by his garden and waved back with a forced smile.

"Maybe I shouldn't care. Maybe I should just wait for my retirement and let the disaster unfold itself. And then when I'm a hundred and thirty years old, and the alien finishes devouring our planet, I'm gonna wave my cranky little finger and say: see? I told you. I freaking told you."

His wife wiped the grill clean. 

"I didn't know I married such a loser."

"Say what?"

Her off-beat comment broke his concentration. This was such an atypical thing for her to say.

"For God's sake, you are the Secretary of Space Defense, Taurus The Man McCloud. You have co-orchestrated the war against the shells and now you're caving in because you couldn't get your point across? Jesus Christ—man up."

What an edge in her voice.

Her mouth rammed a tactical knife into his ego, but the patient enjoyed the treatment.

Doreen McCloud continued.

"You know what your problem is?"

"This planet doesn't deserve me."

"You're a brilliant militarist, but a lousy politician. You always were."

She paused.

"If you want to win over those officer sitters, you have to think like them, act like them. And that means you have to find a way to make your proposal appealing to the president."

Taurus almost slipped from his recliner.

"Appealing? We're talking about a threat that could wipe out humanity. That's the biggest issue any president could ever face."

Doreen overturned the beef and sausages on the e-grill. She gave him the look of a teacher that was tired of repeating the umpteenth lesson to its degenerate pupil.

"Honey, did you just listen to what I said?"

"Something about thinking like politicians."

She nodded.

"Aren't the elections coming up?"

"They are. That's probably the reason why our 'commander-in-chief' doesn't care about a disaster on the other side of the galaxy. I swear, the man only sees what lies an inch in front of his face. Whoever elected this idiot into office should get their head re-examined."

"54.4 percent of the AC citizens voted for him. Are you implying half of our population's stupid?"

She delivered her statement with a smile.

Always teasing.

Seriously, Doreen was the best.

Taurus wrestled for the right words.

"I'd say they were misinformed. And frankly, it's not their job to care about keeping the AC safe."

"Well, then make them care."

She was right, as usual. 

Taurus had to find a way to bridge the population's safety needs with the president's self-interest. So he looked up his newsfeed, checked all the popular channels and investigated the pressing issues the citizens of the AC faced today: high unemployment among the youth due to the surging roboconomy. General mistrust in leadership across all political parties because of corruption scandals. A veteran majority that was involuntarily discharged from duty and received terrible services, leading to Commonwealth-wide protests.

Oh, this was good, Taurus thought. 

His wife lit up.

"I like that smile."

"Oh, you're going to like what's going to happen next."

He dashed into his house and called up some old buddies from Stryker Solutions, one of the biggest private military corporations of the southern hemisphere. When he told them about this grave matter, and more importantly, mentioned the desire for military intervention, they basically drooled. 

Like starving dogs craving a fat bone.

But Taurus curbed their enthusiasm before they creamed all over themselves.

"There's a problem, guys. The president's too obsessed about his upcoming campaign."

"Oh don't worry about that," his Stryker buddy said, "we have just the right solution for you..."

10

Taurus, with his two buddies from Stryker Solutions, got a twenty minute private session with the president in his suite the next day. The Secretary of Space Defense watched his two friends present the stats on the wall-screen, adding emotional storytelling and facts. They bombarded Lucas C. Wright with their neurolinguistic programing of a PR show.

"...sending a team of our experts to examine the alien's threat level is the best way to deal with this crisis. It will also show that you are a strong, capable leader that wants to keep our great Commonwealth, and the world, safe."

His colleague said,

"And when the alien threat spreads, we can revive our stale military industrial complex to deal with the danger. A combined arms assault, consisting of orbital infantry, tanks and fleet ships, will lead to a surge of employment in the arms industry. We're talking about creating millions of new jobs, Mr. president."

Lucas C. Wright leaned into his chair and nodded while playing with his fingers.

"But why are we talking about war—I thought you wanted to send a team of experts to gauge the alien's threat level?"

Taurus roared his manly voice.

"It's all about the big picture, sir. Right now, we're merely asking for a team to enter the Newtype territory. But when the situation escalates, and it will, given their incompetence in dealing with military challenges, we will have to engage with our own forces."

The president's eyes widened. The next words stumbled over his fat lips.

"You want to launch a new war against the Newtype?"

Taurus shook his head.

"No, sir. We want to make sure we have our fleet ready as soon as the hostile life form targets our territory. Our military actions will be solely directed at the alien."

Lucas C. Wright took deep breaths and watched the stats and visual feeds.

Digital frames with impressive images, depicting military tactics, state-of-the-art armament and orbital trajectories between Earth and Mars.

"Well, gentlemen, that was quite revealing. I thank you for your presentation."

The Stryker representatives thanked him and walked outside.

Taurus waited for them to shut the door. Before he traversed the doorframe, he reversed and reconnected with the president’s gaze.

"One last thing."

"Yeah?"

"Our Commonwealth is divided and plagued by hopelessness, sir. Having an outside enemy such as the alien will unite our people once again. Doesn't matter if you're transhuman, classic, liquid or a mixed migrant. When faced with an alien threat, we're all citizens of the AC, fighting together. Imagine the impact that can have on your campaign—you can be the man that unites us again."

The president sipped his coffee but paused halfway through the motion.

He didn't react nor reply, but Taurus could swear there was something in his eyes.

A glow…

11

"You what?"

The Newtype representative said the next day, back in the president's office.

She sweated and looked as if a nugget-sized meteor had punched her artificially-straightened face. Taurus stood next to her and suppressed his grin. The president sat in his office chair and intertwined his hands.

"I've pondered the situation and realized we've treated the alien case too lightly. I mean, we're talking about a potential hostile life form that has invaded our solar system. Surely this matter deserves our full attention."

"But we already agreed on letting the Newtype handle the life form."

"But what if our friends really can't deal with the threat? What if that...thing grows so fast it devours their territory like that ship we saw getting shredded? Better strike the enemy while it's still vulnerable. We have a commitment to protect our citizens and the people of the free world."

Sounded like a textbook example, but Taurus loved every word of it.

The Newtype rep shifted her pose.

From alpha to beta.

"Mr. president, you promised to never use an AC military presence on Newtype territory again."

"Frankly, I can't remember ever saying that."

"But that was only two weeks ago."

Lucas C. Wright wiped his right palm like a magic mirror filled with answers.

"I'm the president of the American Commonwealth. I have to be flexible to cope with each challenge efficiently. Of course my opinion will change when I receive sufficient intel. And with the new updates available, it’s clear we're dealing with a dangerous life form that could wipe us all out. If that's not a pressing issue, what is?"

Taurus nodded an approving smile.

Thought—well delivered, at last.

Oh politics.

The Secretary of Space Defense was beginning to love 'em.

All credits go to Doreen, of course.

Even that pesky representative had to realize she was on the losing end here. With a defeated tone, the woman said, 

"So what do you want me to do, sir?"

"I want you to go to the Newtype embassy and negotiate a deal that lets a team of our specialists board Mars to gauge the alien's threat level. That is all."

The representative almost fainted. She needed to grab the chair's ledge to support herself.

"Sir, isn't that a tad too aggressive?"

"Why? We're not sending troops, just a few of our guys to check out the situation. If your friends at the embassy want to further discuss the issue, let them know that I'm available 24/7 on my VIP channel. This can be a great opportunity for both of our races to work together again."

Judging by the representative's dismissive expression, she seemed to believe otherwise. The rep flicked a disturbing glance at Taurus but the president waved his right hand.

"Everything settled? Good. You can reach me on my private channel. Now please leave my office, you two, I have a presidency to protect."

He waved his staff goodbye and focused on his holo-feed. Taurus stepped outside and met the Newtype rep back in the hall. The woman was walking back and forth and flailed her arms around. 

"You did this."

Taurus played the clueless bystander. Disarmed his voice and sent the representative a smooth shrug.

"Did what?"

"You swayed the president to support your military venture. How did you do it? Convinced some of your friends from the arms industry to fund the president's next campaign? Some sick super-PAC magic?"