Authors: M.D. Hall
‘So far, my friend,’ her Russian counterpart, interjected, ‘you have said nothing more than we all know.’
‘Quite,’ came the affable reply, ‘very few have ever spoken to Tala. I propose schooling a young woman to play the part of our charming, but uncooperative Te’an representative. We have enough information and sufficient time, to present an image to the world that will ease their minds. Provided the actor reads from a prepared script and is not subjected to questioning, no one will suspect a thing.’
The Chinese premier spotted a problem. ‘As the address will be televised to the world, surely, the doppelgänger will be recognised by friends and family?’
‘Ah, that is why we find someone from within the security services. The only stipulation must be that her accent is not so strong, it cannot be changed at short notice. We all know how neutral Tala’s accent is, I suspect we may have to call upon our British friends. The young woman would need to resemble Tala, but she might have different hair and eye colouring. It would be a simple matter of providing suitable tinted contact lenses, and an appropriate wig. Once she has made her address, she can return to her old life and her true likeness. No one will suspect because, after her reintegration, we will televise walkabouts showing the real Tala, and ourselves.’
The President voiced his approval, as did the others. They agreed that Gerry Wye should begin the search to find a suitable candidate.
As anticipated, a young woman was found from within the British security services. They were very lucky as the ‘double’ had a neutral, regionally uncoloured, accent. The task of getting her to sound like Tala was surprisingly easy.
Of course, how she spoke was of less importance than how she looked, and in this, as anticipated, she required lenses - her natural blue eyes were hidden behind glasses - and a wig.
The greatest problem, being noticeably shorter than the original, was her height. This was resolved by her wearing a trouser suit - Tala always wore a skirt and short heels - which hid the double’s exceptionally high heels. Those tasked with staging the public appearances ensured she would remain standing wherever possible, so restricting her movement. Whenever she had to sit, the cameras would remain focused above the waist.
The agent was fully briefed and made careful study of Tala's movements, previously captured on the security cameras at TeCorp headquarters. Within a week, her transformation into a Tala double was complete. To anyone yet to see the Te’an representative up close, the two were virtually indistinguishable.
It had been necessary to clear the plan with Tala. Much to their surprise, she was visibly amused at the thought of what they were about to do, and readily conceded that, in the light of her intransigence, she could hardly withhold consent.
Ω
Three weeks before critical failsafe, Eclipse exited the Weft, positioning itself in geostationary orbit behind Saturn, and waited. As far as the Tellurians were concerned, there were no rescue ships close enough to help. Of course, that had never been an issue, Eclipse was never a rescue ship.
For Commander Darl, his main concern was the presence of Garnoth. He was unused to having anyone on board, who was completely beyond his jurisdiction, but his superiors made it abundantly clear, when he questioned the ship’s manifest, that he was not to obstruct the Agency head, in any way.
On a separate, and more personal, note, it made him distinctly uncomfortable to see Garnoth and his Avatar wandering about the ship together, unnerving his crew and advertising that they were a law apart. Having established their strange symbiotic existence, they began to appear individually. The crew were simply confused, not knowing whether they were seeing the original, or his doppelgänger. If it was Garnoth’s intention to create unease, he was successful; the sightings inevitably led to gossip and speculation, none of which was conducive to the smooth running of the ship.
The failure of either to identify themselves made perfect sense…why else have an Avatar and announce that this, particular, individual was said Avatar? However, the ploy to preserve the well being of the original, did nothing to assuage Darl’s anger, it suggested there was danger aboard his ship, danger of which he was unaware, and powerless to prevent. If Garnoth believed himself to be safe, his Avatar would remain hidden away in their cabin, and the fact that it was not, represented an unforgivable slur, at least in Darl’s eyes.
If only he had been aware of the true danger, and what the Avatar was really up to, he would have been too preoccupied to think about minor slights to his ego. But, at the precise moment his ship exited the Weft, he had no idea that events were advancing, inexorably, towards one of two possible outcomes, either one of which would send shockwaves far beyond what any of the participants on the ship could imagine.
For the moment, while Darl fumed over a perceived slight there were, aboard his ship, three distinct plans unfolding. First, the object of his attentions, Garnoth, was convinced there was a plot afoot, and he was right. His only problem was discovering the identity of the participants, and their intentions, but he was sure his Avatar would uncover the stratagem. The second, had Garnoth’s plotter, in his coldly efficient manner moving, unswervingly, towards his own goal, oblivious to the third plan, his mentor’s intended outcome for him. Unlike Darl and Garnoth, his naïveté was understandable, given the identity of his mentor.
Of course, none of this was apparent to the majority of the crew of the vast warship. To them, there existed only the need to remain hidden, and be ready for the arrival of the asteroid which, but for Te’an intervention, would never have found itself on a collision path with Telluria.
The huge ship was well hidden from curious eyes. Even with their improved technology, the Tellurians would not see it. To any observer situated outside the ship, an unhidden Eclipse would be an awesome sight. Despite its relative immobility, it emanated an almost palpable aura of power, which, for so many races had merely been the precursor to dread, followed by inevitable destruction.
Δ
As the asteroid grew ever closer, the reaction of most of the Tellurian population surprised even Tala, who anticipated a less constrained response. With the Te choosing to remain apart, it fell to the cadre to inform the world of what was happening, and how total annihilation was to be avoided.
It was feared that, despite their concerted actions, there would be panic on an almost unimaginable scale. What the cadre did not anticipate was the reaction of people to the scenario of their leaders - usually so keen to disparage and condemn their competitors, an expression which, by the beginning of the twenty-first century, seemed to encapsulate their relationship – standing together, and delivering the same message.
Standing together
was not, altogether accurate as each leader would remain in their home nation throughout this time, a slightly different real/video setup repeated at each venue.
There was, it had to be said, an initial fear of the alien Te that rose to the surface, but the sight of Tala’s stand-in, a seemingly normal woman, alongside the cadre on the day of their joint announcement, calmed most. The leaders prefaced their address with good news, everything that TeCorp had provided was credited to the Te’ans. When that information sank in, they pointed out there was more good news to come, so when the danger was outlined, their global audience waited for the promised
good news
. It came in the form of the plan to save the planet, which by then was no more than their audience expected. The reaction to these benevolent beings was perfect, and panic was avoided. The cadre did not seek gratitude, there would be plenty of time for that.
ΔΩ
Preparing for the anticipated non-collision of the asteroid had its fair share of logistical problems, one of which was impact damage from resultant debris. No Tellurian knew that if a single death resulted directly from the asteroid, it would amount to a breach of the Accords, and the Te were not about to let that happen. The pleasant surprise of no casualties, Tala and Garnoth agreed, was likely to engender the gratitude of the Tellurians, essential for the final part of the plan.
The obligatory warnings triggered some bizarre cults, ascribing mystical significance to the events soon to unfold thousands of miles from Earth. Tala had long since discussed with Te’an legal authorities, the effect of suicides on the Accords and was advised this eventuality did not fall within definition of direct death, envisioned by the document. The only danger to Te’an plans would be if the numbers were significant, thereby souring the
feel good
factor once the danger had been averted. For their part, the cadre were forced to concede that there were those who, for whatever reason, did not want to be saved, the same mindset finding pockets of support all around the globe. Fortunately, for the architects of both plans, the numbers were a minuscule proportion of the global population. The reactions, on a personal level, did differ: for the Tellurian cadre it was a sad, but inevitable consequence of the danger they faced; for the Te'ans, it was merely a foretaste of what was to happen to all Tellurians.
The details of the plan to save Earth had been hatched over six days, when four of the group of six met in Paris. TeCorp had become the fifth, unofficial member, but were asked if they could supervise matters,
on the ground
, while the four political leaders thrashed out the macro ideas. Hugo saw no objection to this proposal, having plenty to do without yet another meeting, and so readily agreed.
The cadre found that without the burden of regional politics, and concerns of economics, they liked each other, and worked well together.
The sixth member of the group, Tala, was never present, nor even a remote party to the talks that, day by day, ensured a network of aid, assistance and logistical brilliance the like of which had never before been seen on the planet. She was simply not interested, or so they thought.
Hugo resolved emergency transport issues by securing a release from each and every one of his buyers, on the understanding that if their expected vessels were requisitioned, they would later not be required to take delivery of the used craft, and new replacements would be supplied within six weeks of ‘zero hour.’ In this way, he ensured that all flyers, not yet delivered, were available to be deployed in rescue missions. In the meantime, the flyers, within their underground hangars, were safe from any residual fallout. Some of his customers even asked if he could take their flyers back, so as to afford them protection. He agreed, on the condition that, if required, they would be utilised for humanitarian missions.
He encountered no resistance to his counter proposal.
Δ
While the media were deluged with details of the rescue plan, the small number of doubters that remained, saw their fears ebb away.
Matters between Hugo and the President had, however, taken an unusual course, which left Hugo feeling bemused. Any calls he made to Gerry Wye’s office were often met with dissembling, and evasions. Even his attempts to speak directly with the President were unsuccessful. He could understand why the Te might only want to deal with planetary leaders, but it served to remind him of the fickle nature of politics. All the time he was, seemingly, the source of amazing technologies, the President was his best friend. How matters could change.
Δ
Thirty-six hours before
failsafe,
the reconfigured Te’an ships launched. Despite warnings to remain indoors and watch proceedings via television feeds, hundreds of thousands within sight of the launch point, gathered in silent supplication. All the meetings, promises and assurances led up to this moment. Now was the time when truth, as the Tellurians understood it, would out.
The actual launch, completely lacking in noise, or vapour trails was beautiful, in a vastly understated way. The thirty-six ships simply swept westwards into a clear morning sky, the sun glinting off their silvered bodies for all of the six-seconds they remained in sight. The crowds continued to stare skywards, long after the ships had left Earth’s atmosphere.
Mere minutes would elapse before the Earth squadron intercepted the vast, tumbling rock. The crews had performed countless simulations, but time constraints meant this was their first opportunity to pilot the ships in anger. They comprised the best pilots the world had to offer; the technicians, likewise, were the youngest and brightest. While crews naturally derived from single nations, for the purposes of inter-ship communication almost as much time had been spent on language skills, as technical matters.
Ω
Darl watched from his ready room as the asteroid moved towards its rendezvous with the Tellurian/Te’an hybrids. He had not invited Garnoth who, doubtless, would have arranged his own personal viewing of what was about to take place. The commander had played down the importance of proceedings to his crew ensuring, however, that key members of his staff were ready to intercede, should the Tellurian expedition fail. For his own edification, he was interested to see how the Tellurians would cope. Precision and timing was more important than brute force in situations like this. Eyes glued on the hologram before him, he barely acknowledged the Nopa who brought his drink.
Δ
The Earth ships neared their destination, then broke off into three groups of twelve, each with a different approach vector. Speed was slowed, and courses adjusted to match the target then, as one they opened fire, concentrating upon two converging fault lines. The longest, lateral line drew the fire of two of the groups, at different points. The continuous assault seemed to last much longer than the twelve minutes it actually took. Then all ships turned their attention to the intersection of the fault lines. Within seconds, the asteroid silently fractured, six parts now slowly moving away from each other, neither fast enough, nor far enough.