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“Mr. President,” Guccio said. “Something has just arrived at Earth.”

“What, we got a FedEx package from Mars? What the hell are you talking about, Gordon?” Hallstrom put his hand under the knee of his bad leg and lifted it off the desk.

“A spaceship, sir.”

“A spaceship?” Hallstrom said.

Charli crossed her arms. “This better not be one of your jokes, Guccio.”

“Yes, Sir. no, Ma’am.”

Ma’am?

“Seth McGraw will be here in a second to brief you, but an unidentified flying object has entered our atmosphere, from space, and has made controlled turns that suggest it’s under intelligent control.”

McGraw rushed into the office running his fingers through his thinning hair and wasted no time. “Two hours ago, an object traveling fifteen thousand miles per hour intersected Earth’s atmosphere at the North Pole. When it reached the planet—”

“DJ1?” Charli asked.

McGraw looked at her. “What? Oh, no, no, DJ1 is still out near Jupiter’s orbit.” He turned back to Hallstrom. “When this object reached the planet—”

The door to the office burst open, and Stanley Mann, director of the secret service, strode over to the desk. With him were two agents and Maddix Young.

Mann spoke first. “Mr. President, we need to move you to a secure location.”

“Where to?” Hallstrom said.

“Marine One to the Doomsday Plane to Ruby Mountain.” Stanley Mann’s jaw could win prizes in a right-angle competition, and his body belonged on the cover of a
Strength Training Past Fifty
book.

“The bunker in Nevada? Is that ready?”

“Yes, sir. We just finished it.” With that the entire flash mob, except for Boondoggle, headed for the South Lawn.

“Maddix,” Hallstrom said. “Put together a list of people we need with us on this trip, a maximum of …” he looked at Mann with a raised eyebrow.

“Seating for thirty-two.” Mann replied without needing to consult his notes.

“… a max of thirty-two, but I doubt we need that many. Then another list of people who should follow in the next day or two. Where’s the vice president right now?”

Charli said, “Offenbacher is still in Belgium. Should we bring him home?”

Hallstrom shook his head. “No. Let’s leave him there. What’s the status on Jake Corby?”

“We’ve located him, but he’s unavailable,” she said.

“What do you mean, unavailable?” Hallstrom turned to her but kept walking.

“A crime cartel has kidnapped the four-year-old daughter of his friend and former colleague, and Jake is helping her.”

“Wow.” The president stopped so fast that McGraw stumbled into him. “Well, I can understand his decision. See if there’s someone you can delegate to help him. And keep me posted.”

The group continued on, and Charli glimpsed Marine One landing on the South Lawn.

Hallstrom put his hand on McGraw’s shoulder. “Okay, Seth, please continue.”

“When the object reached the North Pole, it was traveling at Mach twenty, though we suspect that it had been going much faster. It made an impossibly quick turn and is now following a spiral course that will take it over every part of Earth, flying at 40,000 feet. At this rate, it should arrive at the South Pole in four days.”

“So we’re definitely being visited, or at least probed, by some alien civilization, and this is the first time in history this has happened, as far as we know. Does that sum it up, Seth?”

“Precisely, sir. We’re confident about the alien civilization part. It’s already displayed capabilities far beyond anything we have.”

“What do you think it’s doing?” Hallstrom asked.

“Well, we have four hypotheses. The first—”

“Sorry to interrupt.” Hallstrom turned to him. “For now could you just give me the one you like the most?”

McGraw scratched his ear. “Well, here’s the one that’s most likely, but I wouldn’t say I like it. We think it’s a crop-duster. It’s laying down some substance, likely harmful.”

“Okay,” Hallstrom said. “Let’s say it’s spraying some kind of poison gas and we’re pests that are being exterminated—what do we do about it? Charli?”

Charli said, “Assuming the worst, we need to either stop this craft or protect ourselves. The air at Ruby Mountain is heavily filtered and hopefully safe. We should consider moving more of the government there.”

President Hallstrom looked at Young, who nodded and made notes.

Charli continued, “Of course, the public will be unprotected. We can tell them to go indoors and close their windows while the government goes into bunkers, but that sounds lame.” She paused while thoughts of her dad and grandmother forced themselves into her mind.

Hallstrom turned to McGraw. “How long until the craft reaches American airspace?”

McGraw consulted his tablet. “Fourteen hours to the top of Alaska and twenty-eight to the continental US.”

“Whoa. Fast-moving crisis, huh, guys?” Noise from the helicopter interrupted the conversation as they passed the saluting marine guard and entered the familiar green and white Sikorsky. The craft took off, and the noise level dropped enough to allow conversation in a normal tone of voice, unheard of in standard helicopters.

“I assume General Clayton would like to speak with me?” the president asked Young as Marine One rotated toward Andrews Air Force Base.

Young nodded, “She is on line two on the handset by your elbow, sir.”

Megan Clayton was chief of staff of the Air Force.

The president picked up the phone and asked the tech officer to put the call on speakerphone. “General Clayton, sorry to keep you waiting. You’re on speakerphone. What have we got?”

“No good news, sir. This thing is traveling way too fast for us. Our F15s can’t go faster than Mach three, and this thing is going Mach twenty. By the way, it’s not creating any sonic booms, and my science guys don’t even know how that’s possible. We’ve set up interception courses, but even if you decided to shoot it down, I doubt that could happen.”

“What’s the probability we could stop it?”

“Slim to none, sir. It would be like trying to shoot down a fighter jet with a bow and arrow. We’d pretty much have to set off a nuclear explosion right in front of it. Our antiballistic missile system is designed for handling re-entering vehicles, so that’s a little more feasible. Note that NASA is hailing the craft in every way they can think of but has gotten no response.”

“Okay, thank you, General. Keep working on the options, but for now, the rules of engagement are to stay out of its way. Don’t do anything remotely threatening. My first impulse is to treat it as friendly, but only because we have no other realistic option. Does that sound reasonable from a military point of view?”

“Yes, sir, that’s the conclusion we came to at the Joint Chiefs meeting.”

“Okay, thank you.” The president hung up and addressed the group.

“Act friendly since we have no other realistic option. Opinions?”

“Just to take the devil’s advocate position,” Charli said, “what would we do if we knew the craft was spraying a deadly gas that would kill every creature on the planet?”

Guccio answered, “We would set off nuclear bombs right in front of it along its path and keep doing so until we ran out of bombs, but I can’t nuke up most of Canada on the chance—”

“Unless we did it over the ocean,” Charli said.

“Agreed.” The president nodded and looked out the windows. “I appreciate the brainstorming, but until we know that it’s hostile, let’s act like primitive, welcoming natives.”

They landed at Andrews Air Force Base, right next to the so-called Doomsday Plane.

This plane, also known as the advanced airborne command post, was one of four Boeing 747s that had been specially modified to be resistant to attack.

The president turned to Maddix Young. “A conference call with world leaders?”

“It’s already being organized, Mr. President. It should happen within the hour.”

The group moved up the stairs and into the Doomsday Plane.

* * *

June 3, 2018

While the spaceship continued its four-day spiral journey, the world speculated about what would happen when it reached the South Pole. Most expected it to continue off into space. Maybe this thing is just on a mission to survey planets. When it’s done, it will be gone and we’ll never see it again. Wrong.

The craft reached the South Pole, made its second impossibly abrupt turn, and zipped up the seventy-fourth longitude line to New York City, starting a gradual descent when it passed Venezuela.

Marie Keller looked out toward the sunset from the eighty-sixth floor observation deck of the Empire State Building.
Beautiful!
She wore one of her trademark Irish sweaters and was on her annual trip to New York City. Earl, her second husband—because he was twenty years younger than she is, she called him her trophy husband—was stuck listening to Madge’s blather. Not that he was understanding her; Earl suffered from an early-onset dementia. Madge’s husband stood next to Marie, quietly appreciating the view.

It took the sphere less than one second to travel from the southern tip of Manhattan island to the Empire State Building. Marie flinched as if someone had kicked a soccer ball right at her face. A huge, fast soccer ball with a vapor trail strung out behind it.

The sphere stopped at the tip of the Empire State Building. The tourists freaked. They mobbed the exits and looked like they were watching a vertical tennis match. Eyes to the sphere, eyes to the exits, push, and repeat. Marie picked out Madge’s screams, “Marie, come on we have to get out of here that thing could explode and it’s probably radioactive and we’re all going to die.” She frantically motioned for Marie join the group. Marie just smiled, nodded, and waved, trying to convey, “You guys go ahead, I’m fine. I’ll be along later.” She had a front row seat to the biggest event in all history—no way was she going to leave. Had she been able to touch it, she would have.

It maintained a precise position alongside the building’s antenna. The sphere was about thirty feet across and resembled a gray golf ball but with hundreds of protrusions arranged like tiny blocks in a crowded city. The protrusions came and went, and sometimes the entire surface of the sphere was smooth. When that happened, Marie waved and picked out her reflection in the mirror-like surface.

The scent of ozone filled the air. A flying-saucer noise—the same throbbing woo-woo-woo used in old science fiction movies—came from the spacecraft. It was just loud enough to be heard over the screams of the tourists.

Maybe the radiation will keep my breast cancer from coming back.

* * *

June 3

Charli sat alone in the Ruby Mountain situation room, tapping her pen on her legal pad and watching the media coverage of the sphere.
Now what’s going to happen?

An adventurous tom-boy while growing up in rural Maine, she had been “one of the guys” until puberty. When the other boys started initiating fights just so they could wrestle her, it was time for a change. But even as a teenager, her choice of courses such as auto shop, math, and science, demonstrated her independent thinking.

She looked at the image of the sphere on the room’s screen. After arrival, the craft just sat there making its silly throbbing sounds.

On CNC, news anchor Kendel Cole appeared on the left side of a split screen. “Today we are talking with Seth McGraw, President Hallstrom’s chief science adviser, and the former CEO of the SETI Institute. SETI stands for Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence. Dr. McGraw is speaking to us from the Ruby Mountain bunker, where he has been working closely with the president in the four days since the sphere reached our planet.”

Charli got up and walked two doors down to the media room where McGraw sat in front of the camera. The red light was on over the door, but she snuck in quietly and leaned against the back wall.

“Thank you for talking with us today, Dr. McGraw.”

“Happy to be here … or to be talking with you.” McGraw licked his lips. Charli gave him a thumbs up and a wink even though he probably couldn’t see her. Most of the room was dark, with cables running along the cement floor.

“Dr. McGraw, what’s inside that sphere?”

“We, ah, don’t know, of course, but there are two possibilities that I can think of. First, it’s totally mechanical—that is, it’s a drone, with no biological beings inside it. NASA discovered a while ago that it’s a lot easier and cheaper to send a mechanical device to another planet than it is to send people. So this sphere could be analogous to one of our Mars rover units.” McGraw’s speech smoothed out once he began talking about his passion.

“There are few creatures on Earth that could survive the kinds of decelerations we’ve observed. But of course, if there is a biological being in there, it will be unlike any creature on Earth.” He paused here, as if picturing a totally alien being.

“In addition, since we know the craft is far more advanced than anything humans have created, perhaps it has properties that eliminate the G forces on the inside. My scientists tell me that’s impossible, but the craft did travel at Mach twenty without generating any sonic booms.” Another pause, this time to take a sip of water. “Could there be one or more sentient beings inside that craft? Yes, all right, it’s entirely possible, but I see it as the less-likely alternative.”