 
Veezee **: The Invasion**

by

Clyde Key

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2009 Clyde Key

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Veezee **: The Invasion**

The world had waited for this day for most of one hundred years. Now, millions of people were camped along the highways in the California desert, hoping to see the visitors when they arrived. Millions more were in the mountains, curious but fearful of the newcomers.

Although many did not believe before, it had been obvious for the past two weeks that the visitors' arrival was imminent because their retrorockets gleamed brighter than any stars in the nighttime sky. On the eve of arrival, spectators in the Americas saw a brilliant display of blue flames clustered in nine huge ovals spread across the sky from the east horizon to the west. The spectacle was so bright that it lit even clouded night skies.

* * *

The signals had first been received in October of 2011 at the radio astronomy station in Arecibo. The weak signals drew attention first because their wavelength was unusual for the dark portion of sky from which they had been received. Previously published charts of that part of the sky listed no radiation of any similar nature so the new signals excited astronomers. And then after several weeks, the large computers at Arecibo began to find repetitions of complex patterns in the signals. After reviewing the data, almost all scientists believed these signals to be the first communication from intelligent beings outside our own solar system.

The strange pulses produced clicks and buzzes when they were played on an audio transducer, but when analyzed, each click was found to contain hundreds of amplitude steps. Then it was discovered that identical copies of the individual pulses might be received in repeating patterns, or completely at random. Some 120,000 unique pulses had been identified over a period of a few years, and these came in combinations that scientists believed were compositions of thought—conversations—in an alien language.

In 2021, a startling discovery was made by computer analysis. It was learned that the transmissions, which consisted of billions of bits of information, started over on an exact repetition every 47 hours, 33 minutes, and 12.23 seconds—very much like a recording was being played for us. The next obvious step was to transmit the message back to space with the most powerful transmitter that could be devised within a short time frame. Four and one half years later, in the fall of 2025, the sequence of pulses changed.

What other explanation could there have been except that our transmissions had been received and acknowledged by some one—or something—at a distance from us of two and a fourth light years?

* * *

The first rays of dawn light on September 28, 2112 found Ed Halloran and about a thousand other campers watching the sky from a vantage point in Needles City Park, five miles west of the Needles, California metropolitan district. Ed, southwest regional administrator with the Alien Anti-Bigotry Commission, was there in an official capacity. It was his job to control the throngs gathered along the old highway, to prevent untoward incidents from marring our world's first direct contact with aliens from another solar system, if those aliens should pass through Halloran's district after landing on earth. But nobody had ever explained to Ed just how to control the masses.

Accompanying Ed was his assistant at AABC, Marilee Sharp. Marilee's position was Protocol Specialist. Her job's primary function was to supply Ed with all the facts he needed in order not to embarrass himself, the US government, or our planet if contact should be made first in the Needles District.

When the sun was well above the horizon, daylight became bright enough to render the approaching rocket blazes invisible in the blue sky. Halloran paced behind the ropes that separated the paved park from the surrounding desert.

"Nearly a hundred years we've know that they were coming," he grumbled. "You'd think they would at least have the landing time figured out by now."

"Maybe they didn't want us to know when they would arrive," said Marilee. "They might be afraid of us."

"Nah. Couldn't be. They're so far advanced, they could wipe us out in seconds. That might even be what they're planning."

Marilee's eyes widened. "Don't say that! Don't even think that! If the Commissioner heard you say anything like that, he'd boot you right out of the Commission—and you couldn't get another government job!"

"You needn't worry. No matter what I think, I wouldn't..." Ed's voice trailed off as his eyes detected the rocket flames high in the sky above the desert. "They're here. Just about."

"Yes, they are!" Marilee's voice quivered. "They said the aliens are supposed to be on the ground within ten minutes of the time they become visible."

By this time, the people crowding the park all knew the aliens' rockets had been sighted. The din of campers dismantling tents and packing gear into their floater transports suddenly turned to heavy silence as people dropped their activities and lined up against the rope barrier.

Then Ed saw the rockets coming down. Hundreds—perhaps thousands—of long silvery tubes, riding on longer plumes of flame, settled slowly toward the desert plain. Ed gasped and the crowd broke again into an excited roar when the rocket flames touched ground. Flame spread horizontally from each, searing the ground and everything on it for a thousand meters around. The exhaust from the fleet of spaceships ravaged the desert as far as Ed could see. Flame, smoke, and ash boiled upward in great swirling red and black clouds. When the flame died back, smoke continued to roll and winds generated from the fierce heat began to pick up charred desert sand and whip it into the mixture. Within three minutes, the western sky had turned black, and the blackness began to drift northward.

Panicking campers jammed the park exits as they raced away from the scene of desert destruction. Most left their camp gear half packed and lying around in huge piles of clutter on the park floor. Transports raced for the park gates, and when there were too many for the gates some of them went over the fences.

Marilee stared at the devastation through flowing tears and sobbed. "Didn't they know this would happen? Somebody had to know! Why didn't they stop them?"

Ed fought back rage as he took Marilee's arm and pulled her toward the AABC transport van. "Come on. We've got to get out of here in case the wind changes."

Two hours later, Ed and Marilee were at the commission's branch office in Flagstaff watching news telecasts on the big wallscreen. They had been unable to communicate with any AABC offices or any other government agency and, until just then, had been unable to learn anything from news reports. There was no information coming from the area of the landing but reporters conjectured about the reasons. One newscast chief suggested the aliens may have attacked and destroyed the government contingent that was sent to greet them. "But America should not panic," he advised viewers. "That simply is one possible explanation for all this confusion and we believe it is highly unlikely."

A numb Ed Halloran shook his head in disbelief at the frightened reporter. "If he doesn't want the country to panic, he shouldn't go telling everybody we've been attacked by space aliens!"

Then shortly after 10 a.m., another reporter's somber face came on the screen. "We finally have an official government communique. We have not—I repeat, not—been attacked. However, there has been a great tragedy. Although scientists had feared there might be some damage to landing sites from retrorockets on the alien spacecraft, no one expected the devastation that occurred today. Nor did anyone expect the cloud of toxic fumes that came out of the landing and apparently has killed everyone in its path, including President McKendrick, First Vice President Warner, Second Vice President Bentley, and their staffs."

"They should have known," said Marilee. "They should never have allowed aliens to land on Earth."

"How could they have stopped them? It's been seventy-five years since the world was disarmed, and there never were enough missiles to have stopped this anyway."

The newscreen picture changed and they saw a group of people gathered on the steps of the Presidential Mansion at Camp David. Third Vice President Clarice Litton was being sworn in as the new president while an unidentified voice described the event in muted tones. "The swearing-in took place a few minutes ago in great secrecy at Camp David and, for security reasons, President Litton has departed for an unknown location."

That scene faded, replaced by the grave face of reporter Andrea Wilkes who brought more news about the toxic cloud. "The cloud is beginning to thin as it spreads, but it is still lethal to all living beings in its path. The Interior Department estimates that at least ten million people have died already and the cloud likely will go all the way into Canada before it becomes less than lethal. Our hearts go out to the millions of people who will not be able to escape."

Then another reporter brought the information that all of the other eight landings had produced similar toxic clouds with tragic result. The world was in mourning for at least a quarter of a billion people dead.

According to the reporter, there had still been no contact with the aliens who had not left their spacecraft.

"What are we going to do?" asked Marilee. "Are we supposed to make contact with them?"

"I don't know. We were supposed to control the crowds and let the chiefs get the glory. But now the crowds are all scared off and all the chiefs are dead—at least all the chiefs around here are dead."

The picture on the wallscreen changed and Ed and Marilee recognized it before the news reporter began describing the scene. Even though the wind was carrying the toxic cloud away, the half million panicked residents of Needles were trying to leave the area in a stampede of floater transports. Blocked in by the traffic, many had foolishly left the highway and tried to float across the rough terrain. Wrecked transports littered the desert on either side of the highway.

"We'd never get there," said Marilee. "Traffic is coming out on both sides of the highway."

"Yeah. Somebody must have torn down the WrongWay Repellers. Good idea."

They watched the screen change to other scenes of devastation as reports began to come in from other parts of the world. They learned that similar exoduses were happening at every other landing site. Population centers that hadn't been annihilated by the fumes were rapidly emptying.

"Nobody is making contact," said Ed. "We've got to go!"

"But how? You saw the traffic!"

"We'll use a high level floater from the Gpool, and we'll travel over the top!"

"Those aren't legal for highway use," said Marilee.

"Neither is floating on the wrong side of the highway!" said Ed.

* * *

Eighty kilometers east of Needles, Ed and Marilee passed the last of the caravan of floaters fleeing Needles. But as they neared the city they began to see the hikers. Ed figured those people must have been the operators of the floaters that had wrecked when they left the highway and tried to cross the rough desert terrain. He felt a twinge of pity for the frantic band, but there were too many for them to rescue. Besides, as Marilee pointed out, neither of the government agents knew for sure where danger was anyway since aliens who could travel across spans of space measured in light years would certainly be capable of reaching any point on Earth.

Ed slowed the floater suddenly and stared. Some of the hikers were resting in the shade of the billboard he'd passed so many times he had become inured to it. "The Visitors are coming!" it proclaimed. "Remember they are our guests—make them feel welcome!" Then in smaller letters, it said, "They have much to teach us."

Ed grumbled to himself. The billboards were Arlene's doing! _What a stubborn, stupid old woman!_

Several kilometers after they passed the last of the hikers, the alien rockets came into view. Viewed from a distance, the space ships were gleaming silver needles protruding upward from the startling ebon of the charred desert floor. Ed was suddenly struck with the realization that the rockets must have been at least a kilometer high even though the perspective of distance had made them appear as small slivers. He wondered how many aliens each held.

Ed guided the floater to a point a few hundred meters southeast of the alien fleet, and left the vehicle set on autohover while they stared silently at the rockets and the burned desert surface.

"Look! What's that moving down there?" asked Marilee, excitedly.

"Stray dogs. The campers must have lost them when they left in such a hurry."

"They're wandering close to the rockets. Do you think it's still toxic down there?"

"I wouldn't know. If it is, there wouldn't be anything you could do for the dogs."

"They seem to be doing very well. It looks like the fumes are gone," said Marilee.

"Seems that way. I'm going to get us a little closer."

Ed guided the floater over to the nearest rocket and slowly circled the huge craft. The entire outer surface of the alien ship seemed to be fabricated in one piece, even including the fins that extended from three sides and, despite the flames that had engulfed the bottom of the rocket during its descent, it was still bright and silvery down to the huge pods upon which it sat.

Then they dropped the floater to a few feet above the desert and viewed one of the pods closely. "I haven't found a door or a hatch or anything like that," said Ed. "I wonder how they get in or out of it?"

"They've probably forgotten, too," said Marilee. "They've been inside there for two hundred years."

"Hmm... Yeah. I don't know how long they live but most of them were probably born in there and haven't ever been anywhere except in the rocket."

"There's a hole in it," said Marilee, pointing to the bottom of the pod. "I didn't see that before. It must have just opened."

"I think so. If it's a door, those guys must really be small! It can't be more than six inches across."

As they watched, a gelatinous mass appeared at the hole. It began pushing through the hole, seemingly with great difficulty at first but then it fairly seemed to stream out until it came free and landed a few feet from the craft in a quivering heap. Then another form appeared at the hole. It was long and quite slender and it came through the hole quite easily. When it was completely out, they could see it was about five feet long, with a rough surface that seemed to be covered with blisters. Its mottled skin was shades of red and green and the colors seemed to change as it moved in the bright desert sun.

Then the wide-eyed government agents watched as the slender being leaped into the middle of the blob, and seemed to soak up the substance of the blob into its blisters.

"That's disgusting!" said Ed. "That's the ugliest, most disgusting thing I've ever seen!"

"Don't let them hear you say that!" said Marilee. "You might make them mad. And you'll certainly make the commissioner mad if he knows you said anything like that!"

"Don't worry. There's no comm on this floater. There would have been a unit installed by next week, but it's completely safe to talk in here now."

"You think," said Marilee.

The first alien they had ever seen soon filled out into a rather large body that almost seemed to slosh as it moved. It had no legs, but moved about on wrinkles that appeared in waves at its bottom. It did seem surprisingly mobile, though.

After the first alien exited the ship, five more joined within minutes. All came out in exactly the same manner as the first.

"I hope we don't have to identify them individually," said Marilee. "They all look exactly alike to me!"

"Now don't you start it," said Ed. "That's one of the things Ms. Sisk said you're never supposed to say."

### 2

Nov. 16, 2025

Because he was ordinary in most ways and of small stature and quiet manner, Evan Saxon escaped notice much of the time. However, Saxon had a keen intellect that had been exploited many times to the benefit of his employers. At Bennett University, where he had been an assistant to the dean in the Physics Department for more years than would have been tolerated by someone with a yearning for a full professorship or a department of his own, Saxon was known to most around him as the real author of papers that listed him with only minor research credit. Saxon may have wished for recognition, but it was not apparent to those around him.

Perhaps it was a secret desire for fame that led Evan Saxon to accept an appointment from the President of the United States to a seat on the newly formed Domestic Affairs Council. Then again, it could be that Saxon wished to remain largely anonymous, a behind-the-scenes presence who contributed much while drawing scant reward. It may as well have been the latter because that was a precise description of his position on an advisory board whose unstated purpose was to develop strategy for improving President Kermit Rogers' waning popularity with the American voting public.

This November day in 2025 found Evan Saxon at the White House in the large East Conference Room. Saxon sat almost at the end of the long mahogany table, so far from President Rogers that he had to strain to hear the president's words.

"This represents an unparalleled opportunity for the administration," said the president. "History will remember me as the president who led this nation and our world to establish contact with intelligent beings from outside our own solar system. It is your collective task to help me..."

"Beg pardon, sir," said the heavy, balding man who sat to the president's immediate right. "I'm afraid we can't take credit for that, for a couple of reasons."

Rogers was visibly annoyed at the interruption. "And what are those reasons, pray tell?"

The old fellow smiled. "The number one reason you can't claim credit for it is that it really happened over four years ago. Our scientific advisor, Mr. Halloran, tells us that it takes a very long time for radio waves to travel that far in space. You weren't president when the astronomer guys figured out what it was and started sending that message back."

"Thank you, Jantzen, but I understand the distance is only a little over two light-years." Rogers raised his voice. "I was already president two years ago."

"It takes twice that long for a round trip," said Jantzen. "It has been four and a half years since that message was sent, and it wasn't us who sent it. It was the Puerto Ricans."

"But... Puerto Ricans, you say? Was that before or after the New Arrangement?

"After," said Jantzen. "If you try to take credit for this at all, it will seem both self-serving and extremely dishonest. I think you should leave it alone unless we can come up with some new stuff that can't be tied back to the Puerto Ricans."

Evan Saxon raised his hand, but then he was embarrassed at the thought he must have looked like a timid schoolboy asking permission to speak. After an uncomfortably long time, the President acknowledged Saxon. "Yes, Mr., ah..."

"Saxon. Evan Saxon from Bennett University." Evan was unsure whether to stand when addressing the President. He started to stand, then sat back down when he remembered that Jantzen had remained seated. But then, Jantzen was right next to the President. "I have an idea, Mr. President. It's true the Puerto Ricans made contact, but they used equipment the US installed at Arecibo before the New Arrangement. It is also true that mathematicians from Bennett University first noticed the signals repeated. The Puerto Ricans just don't have access to the kind of computers we have, so I don't think they'll be able to really communicate—to break the signals down and understand them."

"That's good!" said Rogers. "They can't do anything with it anyway, so we'll just take over! We'll build an antenna just like that one except bigger, and we'll blow them away!"

"That's not exactly what I had in mind, Mr. President. Their antenna is quite big enough since it was designed to probe the farthest reaches of the universe. What I meant was that we should offer our cooperation to the Ricans—a joint effort with them receiving and transmitting signals and we do the decoding. You can take credit for improving relations with Latin America and it won't cost us nearly as much because we already have the supercomputers."

President Rogers considered this, and then turned to his right. "Jantzen, what do you think?"

The large man nodded. "It's possible. We should at least explore it."

Evan spoke again, louder this time. "Mr. President, I'd like to propose that you appoint a commission to deal with extra-terrestrial communication. It wouldn't take a large budget for a big return, and I know a number of people who are eminently qualified to serve."

"That's good!" said the President. "Jantzen, I want you to organize this. You might even use Mr., ah... the gentlemen over there, on your panel."

"Saxon," said Jantzen. "He said his name is Evan Saxon, from Duke University."

"No. That's Bennett University," said Evan. "We're the ones who discovered the signal repetition."

"Whatever," said President Rogers.

* * *

Evan Saxon found the headline on page three of the next day's Washington Post. Then he read the story about Lawrence Jantzen's proposal to form the Extra﷓Terrestrial Communication Commission, and his subsequent appointment to head that commission.

Later that morning Saxon received a call from Jantzen, requesting that he serve ETCC in an advisory capacity. "We're holding a preliminary meeting tomorrow to get things started. Can we expect you at the Hawkins meeting room in the Smithsonian at 10 am?" he asked. "And, by the way, could you write up your ideas for communicating with these Martians?"

"Yes. Of course." Saxon already could see that his first challenge would be Jantzen's education.

### 3

April 28, 2112 Early Afternoon

"We have to make contact," said Ed. "No. That's not quite right. It's my responsibility to make contact."

"I'm frightened," said Marilee. "If we just leave, they can make contact somewhere else."

"Marilee! They are out of the ship! They are going to make contact with somebody here whether we are prepared or not! It has to be me!" Ed lowered the floater to a few inches above the ground and set it to autohover. "Be ready! If anything happens to me, you take off! Get back to Flagstaff on the double and report to Camp David!"

Ed opened the gullwing door and stepped out on the ground. Then he turned back to Marilee. "Leave the door open just a little. If I get in trouble, activate the lock and get away from here as fast as you can," said Ed, as he turned to face the aliens who did not seem to have noticed him yet.

Six aliens milled about the charred desert between the two spaceships nearest Ed. Not only did they seem to wander about without direction, it was not even immediately obvious which way they faced. There was no part of the alien anatomy that resembled a face or was definitely identifiable as a head. They might even be watching me, Ed thought, and I'd never know it.

Then the dogs that had been roaming near the rockets saw the aliens. One dog, a large gray male with no obvious pedigree, ran to confront the strange beings. It growled as it circled two of the aliens who were nearest Ed, and it was soon joined by a couple of its smaller packmates. Then it occurred to Ed that the dogs might attack the aliens, sparking the first ever hostility between Earth and extra-terrestrials. He decided he'd have to chase away the dogs, even if it meant personal danger. Ed ran toward the pack leader waving his arms, and yelling, "Shoo! Scat! Get out of here!"

The dogs ran back about twenty meters and retrenched. Four of them were snarling at Ed and the aliens, and a couple more stood back watching. Then the aliens began to move around Ed, flowing it seemed since they had no legs or feet, until they surrounded him in a circle of perhaps three meters. Ed heard the humming sound of the floater then and hoped that meant Marilee was leaving as he had instructed. She didn't, however. She brought the floater up a few feet above the ground and made a pass at the pack of excited dogs, scattering them in all directions. Then she made another pass, frightening away a couple of dogs that had run nearer to Ed and the aliens. Now she'll go back to Flagstaff, Ed thought, but she didn't. She maneuvered the floater about five meters from Ed and the aliens, and let it hover a few centimeters above the ground.

It's now or never, thought Ed. He raised both hands in symbolic gesture and spoke to the aliens. "Welcome to Earth! I am Ed Halloran and I am an authorized representative of the government of the United States of America, on whose portion of the Earth's surface you have landed. I wish to speak to your leader."

Ed was greeted by silence. He stood in the middle of the circle wondering if they were trying to communicate, unable to make sounds that he could hear, or if they regarded him as some kind of a lower being unworthy of communicating with them. Certainly they must have detected his presence because they had surrounded him. But what were they thinking?

He decided to try again. "I insist! You must announce me to your leader!" There was still no response. The aliens had become still. And Ed didn't know if they were facing him, facing away from him, or had no concept of 'facing' toward anything, since their anatomy seemed to have no provisions for it. He was considering making a break for it when he heard the floater's hum become louder. Then he saw the floater rise a few feet above the aliens and came directly over him. It began descending then and he heard Marilee whispering loudly. "Grab a strut! I'll get you out of here!"

When the floater was low enough, Ed reached up and grabbed a parking strut. "Got it!" he yelled. "Let's get out of here!" Marilee took the floater straight up about ten meters and then accelerated across the desert. "Hey! Watch it!" he screamed. "Are you trying to splatter me?"

When the floater had reached a constant speed, Ed half considered pulling himself up and through the gullwing door that was still ajar. Then he saw the charred desert racing along at 170 kmh thirty feet below and he thought better of it, even though his arms were beginning to ache. He looked up again at Marilee and yelled, "I can't hold on here!"

Then she began to decelerate the floater, slowly so she would not sling Ed from the machine, and lowered it until his feet touched the ground. He turned the strut loose and stepped back a couple of meters until she hovered the floater a few centimeters above the ground, then he jumped in through the open gullwing.

"You could've killed me back there! I was barely hanging on!"

"I'm sorry but I didn't know what our visitors were going to do. I thought we should get away fast!"

"They weren't doing anything! They were just standing there!"

"Not those visitors!" Marilee pointed behind them. "These visitors!"

Ed turned to see three luminous globes that had followed them from the landing site. Each globe rode a tail of fire that was almost too bright to view. He took a deep breath. "It does look like they're going to make contact with us."

The globes were coming, obviously faster than the 200 kmh the floater could travel. "There's no point in trying to get away," said Marilee. "Those things are fast."

Shortly, the globes arrived. They stopped in a row about five meters from Ed and Marilee, each balanced atop a thin flame that heated a small spot of desert sand to a yellow, sparking glow. An alien globe was just about large enough to hold one adult human, seated. There were no portholes, though. Maybe the aliens didn't need them, since the ones Ed and Marilee had seen didn't seem to have eyes. As they watched, the center sphere settled to rest on the ground, and its flame disappeared.

Ed stepped from the floater and raised his hand in greeting. "Welcome. I am Ed Halloran, authorized representative of our government. I must speak with your leader."

Then a round hole appeared in the front of the center sphere. It grew larger until it was more than half a meter across, but inside the sphere was dark.

"They obviously are trying to make contact," said Marilee. "But how do we talk to them?"

"You don't," said Ed. "You stay in the floater and try to get back to Flagstaff if anything goes wrong. I'm going to approach the sphere."

With both hands outstretched so they could see he had no weapon, Ed walked slowly to the middle sphere. He stared at the hole in the sphere, but even as he grew near, his eyes could not penetrate the darkness inside. He stepped close enough to touch it, but could not discern that there was anything alive about or in it. "I repeat," he said, "I must speak with your leader. Rather, I must communicate, if you do not speak in the manner that humans do. We wish you no harm, but we must communicate."

There was no response. Curious, Ed reached out to touch the sphere, and he was drawn roughly into the hole. Then it closed abruptly, and Ed was swallowed in darkness.

### 4

Nov. 18, 2025

The Smithsonian Hawkins Meeting Room was a pretentious place to hold a small meeting, but Lawrence Jantzen did not think small. So as Jantzen presided, Evan Saxon and the five other people sat on the front row of the great hall to wait their turns to contribute.

"I've already spoken with President Rogers this morning and I want you all to know that this project has his enthusiastic support. The president assures me that we will be able to function as an independent scientific agency, free from political intrusion of any kind—and I told him that was the only way I'd consider working on this commission. Fortunately, President Rogers believes this nation's—this planet's—future depends on our capacity to solve problems technologically. Therefore, this commission will have funding sufficient to do anything we may deem necessary, and we will have the commitment of the Rogers administration to provide any other resources we may find necessary, including additional clerical and technical personnel.

"But enough of that! Let's get started. I've asked Mr. Sexton to prepare an outline of his ideas for communicating with the aliens, but before he comes up to address us, I think introductions would be in order. I'm Larry Jantzen, and I'm sure you all know I'm White House Chief of Staff. I also get assigned to many of these little projects of the President's. Now if each of you would be so kind as to stand and state your name and the qualifications that brought you to this commission, I'm sure it would be helpful to the rest of us."

First, Evan Saxon introduced himself and mentioned only that he was a mathematician at Bennett University, and that he was involved in the initial discovery of repetitive sequence of the alien signal.

Then there was Helen Norden, anthropologist from Yale. Certainly, aliens must have some kind of body, some physical presence, some culture that could be equated to the human existence. She saw developing that tie as her ultimate purpose on the commission. She would be the Margaret Mead of outer space.

Linda Chelsea was a linguist on sabbatical from Stanford. Intelligent aliens would have some kind of a language, wouldn't they?

Arnetta Alexander stammered as she tried to think of some qualifications she might have for being on the panel. At length, she called herself an activist. Everyone knew she contributed much to Rogers' campaign funds, although not quite enough to buy a prestigious ambassadorship to a European country. Therefore, they all knew she was being rewarded with a position where she could make some headlines despite no real contribution. It took her about ten minutes to get around that point.

Homer Philips was the astronomer in the group. He had worked at McDonald Observatory and at Arecibo before it was turned over to Puerto Rican scientists. Like Saxon, Philips was unassuming and ill-at-ease in the public's attention.

Hank Halloran was also an astronomer, but in a slight way. He had worked at Palomar Mountain before the cloud rendered it useless. Then he became a public servant, an advisor to government agencies that operated in the scientific realm.

"Mr. Sexton, you may address the group now, if you please," said Jantzen, after the last introduction.

There was a pause, an awkward silence when no one spoke before Evan Saxon saw Jantzen's irritated stare and realized that Jantzen meant for him to speak. Saxon got up and stepped to the lectern. "I'm sorry. My name is Saxon and I thought you said Sexton. I should have realized."

Saxon arranged several pages of notes on the lectern, drawing a murmur of disapproval from the small group. "I have a handout prepared for each of you," he said. "If Mr. Halloran will please pass them down, each of you will get a copy. I'm just going to touch on the high points.

"First, I wish to make the point that we have already communicated with the aliens. We accomplished that when we responded to their transmission with our own and it was acknowledged. So far, the only information that can definitely be said to have been communicated is our acknowledgment that we know they exist, and their acknowledgment of our existence. That may not seem like a lot, but its total impact may not be known for centuries.

"The next point is that although we may know nothing of them, other than that they exist, they may know a lot about us. It is entirely conceivable that they have been monitoring radio, television, and radar signals from earth for nearly as long as we have been transmitting. If they have discovered the operation of television signals, and how to decode them into the information they represent, they may know a lot about us. It's even possible they may know most earth languages

"The third point is that these beings are at such a tremendous distance that travel between here and there is essentially impossible. It would take several lifetimes, even if it were possible to build craft to travel that distance, which it is not. The astronomers here know this already, but I mention it for the rest of you.

"The fourth point is that we have no common language. Therefore, we will primarily be trying to decode their messages with supercomputers. This will be no small task, since we have no common basis for words, or digits, or blips or whatever form of communication the aliens use. For all we know, they may talk among themselves by magnetic waves—radio—and have no concept of sound. Or sight either, although it's hard to imagine that beings advanced enough to beam signals across the universe haven't at least the tools that we have."

Linda Chelsea waved her hand in the air and Saxon nodded to her. "Yes. You wish to make a point, Miss Chelsea?"

"That's Ms." Chelsea frowned at him. "Are you telling me they invited a linguist to be on this committee and there isn't even a language to study?"

"That's not exactly true," said Saxon. "There is definitely a language. This 47 hour repetitive sequence is a language. The problem is that it isn't a human language, so nobody knows it."

"Then it's going to be hard for me to make a contribution, isn't it? I sure wish I'd known it before I turned down the job at State."

Jantzen stood up and spoke. "It will be difficult for each of us to make a contribution, Ms. Chelsea. But this is an historic opportunity for our president, the United States, and the world, so it is worth our effort."

"Thank you, Mr. Jantzen," said Saxon. "That's a point well taken. Now back to the program.

"The last point I'd like to make is that it is going to be at least as important to decide what to say to the aliens as it is to discover how to talk to them. One major part of our job here should be to decide what information should be communicated. There shouldn't be any great hurry to it though. I can't imagine it won't take years for the big computers to break down what we've been receiving already into something useful."

"Years!" Arnetta Alexander shrugged her shoulders in exasperation. "Why do I get myself into these things. I should have taken the post in Uruguay! How bad could it have been?"

"The text I've prepared for you has considerably more information than I've covered today. It goes into the history of radio astronomy and the search for extra-terrestrial life, including the discovery at Arecibo. Also, there is a synopsis of the work at Bennett University, and my ideas for development of the project. I'd suggest you read it at your leisure, and then get your own ideas down for the rest of us to consider. And that's all I have, unless there are questions."

"From what I've heard today, I don't think you're ready for anybody in my field yet. Maybe I could drop out of this for a while, until you technical people get the communications lines set up. But if you guys would hurry, this does look like something that could get me published." Helen Norden smiled at that last thought. "Forget I said anything. I'm going to stick with it."

Linda Chelsea waved her hand again. "What do you want me to do?"

Saxon started to speak but Jantzen interrupted. "I'll handle that one. What we need each of you to do is to supply ideas. Our mandate from the President is to find a way to communicate effectively with the Martians. We don't know how to do that yet, but we're hoping that we all may contribute in some way to accomplish our goal."

"Yes. I understand that," said Chelsea, "but what do you want me to do?"

"Let me get back to you on that," said Jantzen. "Now, does anyone else have a question for Sexton?"

When no one else responded, Jantzen said, "Thank you for your input. I must say it's amazing how closely your ideas parallel my own. I guess it must be true what they say, that great minds work in the same directions, huh?"

"Yes. Quite," said Saxon before he sat down.

Homer Philips spoke next. "I'm glad this is a small group. I'm not generally comfortable with public speaking." Philips fumbled with a large display stand before he managed to get some large posters not to fall off. "I was also not sure of what my contribution should be, but I have prepared some charts here. There are also some individual copies, too. If somebody would hand them out, please.

"What I have here is a map of the southern sky, with an X marking the direction where we received the alien signals from. That's page one of your handout. Now on this chart—and page two of your handout—we have a cross section view of a portion of the universe, on a plane that intersects our own solar system. Again, X marks the spot where the alien transmissions would have to have originated at a distance of two and a fourth light years.

"Excuse me," said Halloran. "But I don't see any solar system of any kind where you have marked. And I'm not aware of any systems in there. Are you certain of your positions?"

Philips looked a bit miffed at the question. "Yes. We are quite certain of the positions. But you are right. The signals do seem to be originating from some very empty space."

"How do you explain that?" asked Halloran.

"I can't, except that there's a lot we can't see in the universe. Some stars are too dim, too small, or too far away. But we detect more faint stars every day. You know that's what an astronomer does. However, it is an interesting point that when the radio signals were discovered, we started looking for stars there, with the best equipment on earth, and we simply haven't found a star closer than half a light year from where these signals are coming."

"Is it possible these signals are being bent, that they're originating somewhere else?"

"Yes, we've considered that, but the consensus is that it isn't so. I believe there must be a system there, of some sort, but that we just can't detect it. I'm sure it's going to be an interesting topic until it can be proved for sure."

Philips had other charts prepared, but it was soon obvious that most of the group had neither the inclination nor ability to understand them, so he decided quickly not to discuss them. "Look them over, and I'll be glad to talk about them outside this meeting, if anybody is interested."

When the other members of the commission declined to speak, Jantzen said, "We've probably covered all we need to for now. Certainly, we all have much new information to process before we go any farther. So I'm going to close this meeting for now and call another for one week from today right here at the same time. The next meeting won't be technical, though. What we need next is to discuss budget and staffing levels. This is a government agency, you know, so we will be spending money!"

"All right!" said Arnetta Alexander. "Finally we're getting into my specialty!"

### 5

April 28, 2112 Evening

"What do you mean Ed is gone? Are you saying they abducted him?" The questioner was Arlene Sisk, vice administrator of AABC in charge of the western region, and two levels superior to Ed Halloran in rank—which placed her at three levels above the very nervous Marilee Sharp. Seated in Sisk's office was grim﷓faced Lane Everett, Ed's supervisor at AABC.

"I don't know if they abducted him. All I know is he was going to make contact and he's gone. It all happened so fast!"

"I might have expected something like this," said Sisk. "I should have fired Halloran years ago. We shouldn't have had an old codger like him around to screw up the program!"

"Personally, I don't see anything wrong with Ed," said Everett. "Sure, he doesn't always go along with everything in the program, but maybe there ought to be questions raised sometimes. Why should we all just accept everything the commissioner says? Why can't we think for ourselves sometimes?"

"Ed Halloran does not think for himself or for anybody else! The man is a reactionary—a throwback to the twentieth century!"

"I think Ed is a nice old fellow, and he certainly always looks out for me. Like a father," said Marilee. "Anyway, this is not his fault. The aliens contacted us, and Ed had no choice except to respond."

"You should have been looking out for Halloran. I thought I made it perfectly clear that your job was to prevent something like this!"

"That was not written in her job description, Ms. Sisk, and anyway, she reported to Ed and not the other way around," said Everett. "But the question now is: what do we do next? Do we send someone else to make contact, or do we wait? For all we know, Ed may have made contact and has everything under control."

Sisk grimaced. "Not likely. Not Ed Halloran."

* * *

Early next morning Marilee took Everett out to the location where Ed was last seen. There was no one, alien or human, in the area but there were three charred spots on the ground to mark the location where the three globes had hovered on tails of fire.

"I hope they don't think they're going to use rockets for local transportation," said Everett. "We haven't done anything this damaging to the environment for over a hundred years. And we certainly can't allow The Visitors to do that, either."

"This is nothing compared to the retrorockets," said Marilee. "I wish we'd never heard of them. I wish we could have shot them out of space before they ever arrived."

This was not AABC approved conversation, thought Everett. But on the other hand, he felt much the same way. Still, the whole purpose for AABC and the end to which he had trained for half his life was to promote respect and good will for The Visitors. He knew he shouldn't even be thinking such negative thoughts toward them now, but he couldn't help it.

Then Everett saw something on the ground. "What's that?"

"Oh! That's Ed's shoe! They jerked him into the globe so fast he came right out of his shoe!" Shaking, she picked up the shoe and put it in the floater.

"What are you going to do with that?" asked Everett.

"I'm going to keep it. If I never see him again, I want this memory."

Privately, Everett didn't think that was such a good idea but he didn't protest. After all, Marilee already had suffered a terrible experience in the loss of her mentor and close friend. "Why don't you show me where you were when you saw the globes," he said.

"Okay, I suppose. But what will we do if they appear again?"

"Play it by ear, I guess. We'll just do what seems to be called for at the time."

"Like Ed was doing."

"Yes, precisely. But what else? Nothing like this has happened to mankind before so there is no precedent. We can only pray that we don't cause an incident that endangers all of humanity."

Marilee guided the floater across the desert so they could see the spaceship fleet. She stopped it a few hundred meters away from the nearest ship.

Everett gaped at the huge craft. "I had no idea!"

"That's the ship where the first aliens emerged," she said.

"Where are they now? I don't see any of them out."

"You're lucky." Marilee guided the floater to the place where Ed had first tried to contact the aliens. "Look! You can see the trails of slime where they slithered around."

"Slithered?"

"That's as good a description as any," said Marilee.

"Yes, probably it is, but it has negative connotations. Now, more than ever, don't use any terms that are not respectful, positive, and ennobling. Quit calling them aliens, too. They are Visitors."

"Standard AABC line! Treat them with respect and dignity and they'll respond the same way. Pretend they're human!"

"Marilee!"

"Sorry. It won't happen again." _At least not around AABC administrators_ , she thought.

She set the floater on autohover a few centimeters off the ground and they stepped out to look at the scene. "There were stray dogs running around here looking like they might attack the aliens—visitors, I mean—and Ed was afraid they would spark an incident so he tried to run them off. That was just before the globes appeared, from that direction." She pointed to the northwest, toward the center of the huge fleet.

"Stray dogs, you say?" Everett had found something a few feet away, and was inspecting it closely. It was a pile of small bones. Nearby, there was another pile. And another. "Do these look like dog bones to you?" asked Everett.

"They are! I'm certain of it," said Marilee. "Oh my God! What are they going to do to Ed?"

### 6

April 29, 2112

Marilee Sharp and Lane Everett retreated back to the Needles City Park, some distance away from the fleet of huge spacecraft but not out of sight. Marilee parked the floater at the edge of the park where they faced the aliens' rockets. They were alone in the paved expanse. The park was usually filled with sounds of campers pitching tents, or breaking camp, or of children playing games, but now the park was deserted like the rest of the city of Needles and the desert around the park was eerily quiet.

"Why don't they come out?" Everett wondered aloud. "Why don't they show themselves?"

"We'd be better off if they never came out," said Marilee. "I wonder if there's a way we could make a preemptive strike, some way to knock them out before they can get to us?"

"Marilee!"

"Sorry!" Marilee was not sorry for the thought, but for not being able to express her feelings about the loathsome creatures she had seen emerge from the rocket. And she was sorry that the government—and AABC—was of a mindset that precluded serious consideration of potential threats from aliens.

"The whole country is afraid of them," said Marilee. "The rest of the world is probably as frightened as we are."

"Marilee, you have to get over your negative feelings or your usefulness to AABC will be lost. Think about this: There has never been a greater opportunity to expand the knowledge base of the human race. The world from this time forward is necessarily on a different course, but that direction will be determined by how we react to The Visitors, how we interact with them."

"Don't you ever quit reading the book?"

"No, I don't. And it's obvious that you need a refresher course. I understand there's quite a strain for you with Ed's disappearance, but Ed was much too independent. Nothing would've happened to him if he'd waited for orders before he approached The Visitors."

"In Ms. Sisk's office, it sounded like you were taking up for Ed, but now it's different. Why are you being so critical of him now?"

"Because Sisk has wanted to dismiss Ed for a long time, but I never thought it was warranted. I believe a little honest discussion—and dissent—can be good, but it has to stay within AABC. But if we don't even seem to agree with each other in the public light, then we can't expect citizens to become accepting of our Visitors."

"Maybe I should quit then. I can't be accepting of them until I know what's happened to Ed. And if they've harmed him, I'll never accept them."

"It won't be necessary for you to quit," said Everett. "I'm putting you on indefinite suspension. As of right now, you don't work for AABC." He held out his hand. "I want your ID badge and your filekey now."

She handed the items to Everett without comment.

"Now, take me back to Flagstaff," said Everett. "I've had quite enough of this."

"No," said Marilee, simply.

"What do you mean, no? That's a direct order!"

"Direct orders don't mean anything to me. I don't work for you any more."

There was a full minute of awkward silence before Everett spoke again. "Okay. If that's the way it's going to be, move over and I'll drive."

"No. You come around."

Everett raised the gullwing door and stepped out on the pavement. Then the floater shot straight up ten meters. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

Marilee tipped the floater so she could see Everett out of the open gullwing. "I don't have any idea what I'm doing but I'll guarantee you I'm going to do something! I'm not going to sit around waiting for that slime to show!"

As a surprised Lane Everett watched, Marilee sped away to a far corner of the park where she put the floater on autohover and slid across and shut the open gullwing. Then she guided it slowly, deliberately across the desert to the fleet of alien ships.

What to do now was the question. _What would Ed do?_ She giggled nervously to herself when she remembered that Ed had already done what Ed would do, which was to make contact with the aliens. _But how should I make contact? And how will I communicate when I contact them?_

She circled slowly among the alien fleet, looking for any sign of aliens or Ed Halloran. The charred desert held no life because everything there, both plant and animal, had been incinerated by the rockets' flame. Lower, centimeters above the ground, she guided the floater between the great fins that supported one of the craft. She was looking for a port like the one where they had seen the aliens emerge before.

Then she saw the trail. Starting at a point a few meters away from one of the fins, there was a trail leading away from the spacecraft. It looked like something had been dragged bouncing across the desert sand, and it was noticeable because the trail was lighter in color, the charred topsoil having been brushed aside, exposing the undamaged soil underneath. Away from the rocket, the trail diverged into two, then three, and then several distinct trails heading in the same direction. She followed a trail and it passed near another ship, where others joined it. Then she saw that similar trails led away from each of the alien rockets. The aliens, or at least some of them, were out. But where were they going?

AABC should know about this, she decided. She turned the floater around and went back to the park where she soon found Lane Everett walking back toward the city of Needles, muttering to himself. Marilee stopped the floater near Everett, and she raised her gullwing door slightly, and yelled. "They're out! You should get word back that the aliens are out of their ships!"

"How? It'll take me days to get back—if I don't die in this heat!"

"Use a comphone in town. There's bound to be one still working. And they'll send somebody back for you."

"But what are you going to do?" yelled Everett.

"What Ed would have done. I'm going to make contact!"

"But you have no idea what you're doing! You don't know what they might do to you! And you certainly don't know how to communicate with them?"

"Do you have a better idea? Other than going back to Flagstaff and sitting on our behinds while they do whatever they're going to do with Ed?"

Everett hesitated, and then spoke. "Bring the floater down. I'm going with you."

_Dare I trust him?_ Marilee decided that as long as she controlled the floater, it was Everett who would have to trust her. She moved down and unlocked the gullwing so he could slide in on the passenger seat. Then she took the floater up several meters and raced out toward the alien ships before he could change his mind. He wisely snapped his door shut.

She slowed the vehicle when they reached the first of the alien rockets and guided it over the same course where Everett could see the trails, which were already becoming nearly invisible because they were almost covered by the drifting burned desert sand. Everett watched the trail intently.

"Maybe we should contact The Visitors. They're probably afraid of us and they're waiting until we make the first move. If you think about it, we have the advantage here. We're familiar with the planet and they're not. They're probably scared to death." The quiver in Everett's voice betrayed his brave assessment, and Marilee knew he was as frightened as she at the thought of encountering aliens.

"What's that ahead?" she asked suddenly.

"What's what?" asked Everett. "I don't see..." Then he saw what she had seen, an odd silvery glow in a ravine that lay ahead at the end of the trail they were following.

Neither spoke again until they came close enough to see that the ravine was filled with luminous globes like the ones that had spirited Ed away. When they were closer, they saw that the ravine was a dry riverbed, stretching for miles. And it was filled with the globes as far as they could see.

"I don't see aliens," said Everett. "These globes—are these like what got Ed?"

Marilee nodded.

"These must be some sort of transportation vehicles, I'd guess. I don't believe these things are The Visitors themselves, but rather their equipment."

That's right. When they followed us before, it was obvious they were propelled by some kind of rocket or jet engine and they were very fast. They have a flame exhaust, too."

"Uh oh!" said Everett. "We'll have to suggest—strongly, of course—that rockets are incompatible with our environment. I'm sure they'll be glad to develop something a little more earth friendly."

Then one of the globes rose from the ravine riding on a thin tail of flame. It passed to one side then stopped directly behind them about thirty meters. Then others filed from the ravine and a line of globes quickly circled around them.

"I don't like the looks of this!" said Everett. "Let's get out of here!"

Marilee took the floater up to its maximum altitude, ten meters. She spun the vehicle around and accelerated back the way they had come, but globes quickly came up and repelled the floater back. Then no matter which direction she tried to go, globes stopped her progress.

"It looks as if we've been captured," she said. "We have to make contact now." She took the floater back to the center of the circle and let it settle to rest on its struts.

More globes rose from the ravine and formed another circle atop the first. Then globes kept coming until Marilee and Everett were completely closed inside a dome formed of the silvery glowing spheres. Marilee gasped when she saw Everett's frightened face, deathly pallid in the strange glow, and she wondered if she looked the same to him.

Now there was only to wait and pray, until they met the aliens.

### 7

Nov. 23, 2025

It was about a week after the second meeting of the ETCC that Hank Halloran stopped by to see Evan Saxon at the university. After Hank had called earlier in the day, Evan cancelled his afternoon appointments.

Halloran settled his large frame into a chair in Evan's office, then took a pipe from his pocket and proceeded to fill it with tobacco. "Mind if I smoke?"

"Not at all after you leave here," said Evan.

"Thanks. Lots of folks are getting crazy about a little tobacco smoke nowadays." Then Halloran realized what Evan had said and grinned sheepishly as he returned the pipe to his pocket.

"You said you wanted to talk about ETCC when you called this morning," said Evan. "What's on your mind?"

"This guy Jantzen, the White House Big Chief or something like that, he doesn't actually know much about space or astronomy or anything like that, does he?"

"Lawrence Jantzen is White House Chief﷓of﷓Staff. And, no, he really isn't scientifically inclined. He's probably good to have on the commission because he has a lot of clout, but we're going to have to work pretty hard to keep this thing focused on the science issues."

"That's what I gathered," said Halloran. "All those people he's got on the committee want to go off and spend a lot of money on this or that and hire a big staff, but I don't think we're ready for it just yet. Not before we have a little better plan of what we're going to accomplish."

"You have a suggestion, I take it?"

"Sort of. I think we ought to get Jantzen to cool it with the meetings for a while until the technical-minded ones of us have a chance to think out the directions we ought to take. Actually, I think you ought to suggest it because Jantzen seems to listen more to you than the rest of us."

"I tend to agree with you about the planning," said Evan, "but I don't think Jantzen is very impressed with me. He hasn't even got my name straight yet."

"You think. But I know his type. That thing about calling you Mr. Sexton is just his way of putting you down because it makes him feel a little bigger. If you notice, though, he hasn't come up with an original thought yet but he's claimed every one of your good ideas."

Evan mulled over Halloran's assessment. "He doesn't do that to everybody."

"No. You're the only one he feels threatened by, intellectually."

"Perhaps, but I hadn't noticed it. Anyway, I'll give him a call about it. Maybe I'll suggest that he breaks us up into subcommittees. The science people could work together and the others could stay out of our hair while they're doing whatever they're going to do."

"Good. I brought some notes over that I had jotted down on my ideas. Maybe you can look them over at your own leisure and I won't take up any more of your valuable time."

"Oh, don't worry about my time. I don't have any appointments for the rest of the afternoon anyway." Evan picked up the sheaf of papers and started looking through them. "It looks like you've given this quite a bit of thought already."

"Quite a bit, yes. But the main thing I think is that if these aliens are really intelligent, maybe we shouldn't spend so much effort on trying to understand what they're saying at first but let them try to interpret our communication. Let's concentrate on composing a message in English, maybe along with some math or something that might be universal, and transmit it back on that same frequency."

"How about something their computers might decode—assuming they have something like computers. Something simple like monochrome pictures of objects along with English nouns for those objects and perhaps interspersed with those same words recorded."

"Maybe you have something there. We could work something up to transmit back to them. I gather nothing has been sent to them except recordings of their transmissions to us so far. Is that correct?"

"That's about the size of it," said Evan. "It wouldn't take a government agency to work something up. I'll start work on it with a couple of my best graduate assistants tomorrow and I'll bet we can have it ready in a couple of days."

"But can you get it transmitted?" asked Halloran.

"I'm sure I can. I keep in touch with the people at Arecibo. This sort of thing seems to transcend borders and politics."

* * *

Evan Saxton invited Hank Halloran and Homer Phillips to the university to preview the first message that was prepared for the aliens.

At Evan's direction, one of his assistants rolled out a large viewing screen and displayed the whole message for them. It began with a series of still pictures of people—men, women, and children—along with English names printed under each figure. Then the same figures were shown in moving television pictures engaging in simple activities, such as walking, running, and using simple tools. These clips were also accompanied by printed captions and audible words. The last frame was a display of our solar system. In this diagram, the planet Earth was shown radiating waves into space, in the hope that the aliens would recognize that the signals were being transmitted from the third planet from the sun in our solar system.

"What do you think is the likelihood they'll be able to recognize the format here?" asked Phillips.

"There's no way to know," said Halloran, "but if this doesn't work, we will simply have to try something else."

"That's quite true," said Evan. "But the real problem here is that if they recognize it immediately, it will still be four and a half years before their response gets back. In the present, though, we'll still keep the computers trying to make some sense of what they've already sent us."

### 8

April 29, 2112

Ed Halloran began to awaken, although it was still pitch dark where he was. Then he awoke completely with a start when he remembered the circumstances that brought him into the darkness, his having been jerked roughly into the globe.

It was as if he existed only in a tiny world barely large enough to hold him, perfectly round and with neither sound nor light. It was not totally devoid of sensation, though, because there was the smell—stinking, reeking of decay, and overpowering. Ed decided that it must have been the terrible odor that had awakened him.

Then there was the frightful thought that he'd been buried alive! It would explain the silence and darkness. Gripped suddenly with this fear, he began to hammer on the inside of the globe with his fists. "Let me out of here, you slime!" he screamed.

But after some time, he gave up and sunk into despair. Ed slumped in a heap in the bottom of the globe and thought I'm dead. I'm already dead, so why am I still conscious? Maybe I'm not dead but I wish I were?

For what may have been a very long time, or perhaps not a long time at all, Ed lay in a heap in the darkness inside the globe and thought about his life—the life that he had before—and what brought him to this point.

He remembered the time when Grandpa Hank told him about the aliens. Ed was very young then, perhaps eight or nine years old when Grandpa Hank came to visit.

"They're coming, Eddie," said Hank. "Hardly anybody else believes it, but I know they are coming."

"How are they going to get here?" asked young Ed.

"I don't know that part of it yet, and at my age I may not ever know it, but I'm sure they're on their way. I can't calculate it precisely, but I think it will probably take another fifty to seventy years."

"Did they say they're coming, Grandpa? I didn't think anybody knows how to understand them."

"They didn't say so in as many words, but they told us that, I'm sure, in their own way. Nobody else understood it, but I've got it figured out."

Then he thought about his early days at ETCC. Some people grumbled that Grandpa Hank had pulled a few strings to get him on at ETCC, but he didn't care because he just wanted to be in on the excitement of the biggest game in the world in the year 2051 A.D.

It was only a couple of years after he started at ETCC when Ed first met Arlene Sisk. He'd had an interesting, even if somewhat tumultuous, relationship with Arlene over the years. If opposites really attract, it would explain why they were so completely taken with each other at first. But they were so completely opposite that it practically guaranteed the running feud that developed over the years. But Ed had such an easy-going personality that Arlene had won most of the battles, even though he obviously had the most fun.

They had gone out for dinner and a show one evening and Ed was driving Arlene back to her apartment when she told him about her assignment. It was her task to write a first draft of recommendations for dealing with the aliens when they finally arrived, even though that event would be many years into the future. Helen Norden, who had written extensively about the aliens and their (probable) psychological makeup, picked Arlene for this task. Norden was considered the foremost expert in this area.

"Ms. Norden and I share similar views about the aliens and that's why she picked me for the report," said Arlene.

Ed chuckled. "The old dame is looney. I don't think you should want anybody comparing your views with hers. They'll think you're as crazy as she is!"

That made Arlene mad, and when they arrived back at her apartment, she slammed the door on him without saying another word.

When the silent treatment continued for the next few days, Ed vowed to get back at her. And he figured out a way when he accidentally learned her password into ETCC's computer system. One evening after she had gone home, Ed broke into her file and printed it out. Then he composed a set of alternate recommendations written as a spoof and carried it to silly extremes. He replaced her file with the bogus one not knowing the job was due to be turned in the next day, and never dreaming that Arlene would print the document without looking at it again.

What happened was certainly not what Ed had expected. Norden raved about the job Arlene Sisk had done on the report and recommended her for a promotion. Of course Arlene was furious later when she discovered the trickery, but to expose the hoax meant that she would have to disavow the paper that won her accolades. She never told anybody about Ed's trick, but it had soured their relationship forever.

There had been no point to wondering if things could have been different between them under different circumstances. Likely, he decided, their disparate personalities would have soon found some other opportunity to clash. And for Arlene, it worked out very well anyway. Since the paper had Helen Norden's blessing, it very quickly became The Official Commission Report with only minor editing. For most of the American public, it was as big a joke as it was to Ed. In the commission, however, no one (except Ed) dared to speak of it other than in reverential terms because that would have meant instant dismissal for anybody except the grandson of Hank Halloran.

For many years, most people regarded ETCC as simply an expensive bureaucracy—useless and costly, but firmly entrenched and thus impossible to rid from ever increasing federal budgets. It was hard for anybody to seriously consider interacting with strange beings that were still a light year away or even half or a fourth of that. But ETCC spawned AABC and that agency had the mandate of educating Americans for interacting with suitable sensitivity for the expected considerable differences of the visitors. When they considered how humans with only very slight differences treat each other, it became obvious to Norden and Sisk that they had to control the circumstances very closely when aliens first began to contact humans directly.

Ed saw some humor in it now. This whole sensitivity thing was laughable because aliens were obviously not human to any degree. Respect for fungi would have made more sense than the pretense that we could treat these strange things as if they were in any way equivalent to humanity. Ed decided that he must be delirious to be able to laugh at anything in this circumstance.

Then he fell from the globe. Sprawled on the hot desert sand, he couldn't see for a few minutes because the sudden glare of sunlight blinded him. Gradually, though, he became able to see that he was in a ravine, surrounded by the globes. At first, the globes rested on the ground but then they began to sprout the tails of fire that propelled them upward. Globes then began to travel down the ravine to a point perhaps a thousand meters away where they streamed up and across the desert. The globes went into a formation that became a huge glowing dome that surely could have been seen for many kilometers.

Ed was alone in the gulch. He stood and tried to brush away the dirt from his clothes but it was caked on. The streaks of mucus must have come from inside the globe that had captured him, and then dried quickly after he was dumped unceremoniously on the dirt. He picked at the filthy patches and rubbed furiously but none of it would come off. Ed was sickened at the sight of his extended arms, and began to vomit on the ground. At length, the vomiting stopped but he didn't feel any better.

Ed wondered how long he had been in the globe. The sun was not high in the sky now, and it was already getting to be late afternoon when he'd gone into the globe so did that mean only a little time had passed. Or had it been many hours?

He began to walk away then. When Ed saw the fleet of rockets was on the other side of the formation of globes, he knew that Needles must be in that direction. And since the sun hung in the sky above the rockets, he also knew that the time was middle of the morning so he must have spent the night captive.

Ed wanted to hurry back to Needles, to find some way of communicating back to AABC. However, he decided to give both the globes and the rockets wide clearance, so he stayed in the ravine for a few hundred meters before coming out into the open.

It was then he began to notice the bones. Piles of small bones littered the ground at intervals. Ed recognized them as the skeletons of small desert animals. There were bones of snakes, rodents, lizards, and some others he didn't even recognize.

This seemed strange at first. Anyone who had seen the flames from the huge retrorockets would have known that all the small desert animals would have been incinerated. There would have been no bones left. But in this low gulch this far from the nearest rocket, there was probably no flame so the desert life may not have been burned. However, the toxic fumes from the rocket exhaust would have killed all life here just as it did in the great cloud of poison that rolled northeastward from here. But death by poisoning would not explain why there was no flesh left on these bones. Aliens must have eaten these animals. _What else would aliens eat?_ Despite the intense desert heat, Ed shivered as he walked.

### 9

April 29, 2112

Arlene Sisk had been summoned to Camp David. For all she knew, President Litton's headquarters were far away in a top-secret location for security reasons, so she didn't know why she had been called here, but she came anyway on the first available magtrain.

She didn't have to identify herself at the gate. As the time neared for the arrival of The Visitors, Arlene had become very much in the public's eye. Frequent news clips and service announcements over the video channels made her face known to every household in America, and perhaps on the planet. This guard called her by name and invited her to ride with him on his small transport to the main building, then escorted her to an elevator. "This is as far as I go," he said. "You'll have more instructions on the elevator."

She stepped inside and looked at the control panel. There were buttons for two floors and the basement. Then the door closed and she heard a voice, "Look around here, please." When she turned she saw the video camera, and the voice said, "Step forward, please, so I can get a good look at you."

_I hate the neutral voices they put in machines_ , she thought. Because this voice was neither masculine nor feminine and held no trace of emotion or accent, Sisk identified it instantly as belonging to a lower order machine and that irritated her even more. She stiffened, annoyed at being ordered around by a machine, but then remembered where she was and moved into good view of the camera.

"Very good, Ms. Sisk. You are identified. Please press the B button twice rapidly."

"Wh... what?"

"Very good, Ms. Sisk. You are identified. Please press the B button twice rapidly."

"No, no. I didn't mean it that way. I was... Oh, never mind!" She pressed the button twice as instructed.

"Very good, Ms. Sisk. Now press the 1 button three times rapidly, then enter your personal identification code."

She complied and then gasped as the elevator suddenly dropped. It was quickly obvious to her that the elevator was traveling down past many floors at a fast rate, even though she'd thought this building had only two floors above ground and a basement. When she had just about caught her breath, the elevator slowed, and then came to an abrupt stop that almost made her fall. She grabbed the handrail and steadied herself momentarily. Then the door opened and the voice said, "Step off, please."

Arlene went out of the elevator and was met by another uniformed guard. "Welcome to Camp David, Ms. Sisk," she said. "The president is expecting you, so please come this way."

Arlene followed the guard down a long hall, and then watched as the guard placed her hand on an identifier panel. "It will be necessary for you to show identification also," she said.

Arlene put her hand on the panel. "But they knew me upstairs," she said.

"So do I," said the guard. "But these instruments are picky, and you have to do everything just right or they won't allow you to go in."

Arlene nodded. She could have done without any of that, and in her agency, she had always refused to install these bothersome things. But then, what would anybody have ever wanted to steal from AABC anyway? AABC had always freely dispensed its information to the whole world.

The door opened slowly and the guard said, "Come on in, please."

President Litton sat behind a huge desk that either had been moved from the Oval Office or was a copy of the famous furniture. The president was a tiny woman who looked even smaller behind that desk. She also looked much older than Arlene had expected, probably because of her unretouched gray hair and her plain dress. Arlene thought even a president doesn't have to dress up when she lives hundreds of meters below ground. But then one would expect that stress from all the unexpected results of The Visitors' arrival probably would have aged anybody.

"It was so good of you to come," said Litton.

"Oh, not at all. I'm very honored to be here. And since I am, I want to tell you how thrilled I am that you're president. The nation is in good hands, I must say."

"I hope so. Anyway, I didn't particularly wish to be president, but it was thrust upon me. At my age, I would rather be third vice president. I always thought I could accomplish just as much with a lot less strain. But that's beside the point. You weren't invited here to discuss my political ambitions."

"No. Certainly not."

"I'm hearing reports—from all over but not from AABC—that the situation is not improving. They've been here just about 30 hours and so far I hear only that you're losing personnel and have had no useful contact yet."

"That essentially is true. However, it hasn't been long enough to..."

"It's been long enough that you've had three agents captured by the aliens."

"Yes, that basically is true. However, the problem here is primarily caused by one agent that I've had trouble with over the years. I should have dismissed Halloran years ago but there has been an internal political situation that prevented it."

"Halloran? That sounds familiar. Was he related to the Halloran who helped found ETCC?"

"Yes. That's the basic problem, you see. Ed Halloran is Hank Halloran's grandson, and that presents a situation where we've been unable to terminate Ed even though he's the most insubordinate employee we have."

"That may well be, but let me get straight to the point. Your agency has spent trillions of dollars each of the last several years to study the aliens and learn how we should interact with them when they came. It appears to have been wasted because now that the aliens are here, they've killed a couple of hundred million people with their rocket exhaust, and you not only can't seem to communicate with them but you are obviously reluctant to."

"Ms. President, we refer to them as our Visitors. Aliens is such a very negative term that we at AABC have been trying to educate people to call them Visitors instead."

"We don't have to worry about bruising their egos in here, assuming they have egos. This office is absolutely impervious to spying from humans or aliens or whatever."

"Yes. Certainly. Still it seems like a good habit to practice consistent..."

"Get off it! You've had twenty years for that! Now I want to know what you plan to do to improve the present situation! And I want you to know that you must show results soon or you will be relieved. I think your assistant, Everett Lane, has a reputation for being able to handle things."

"I'm sorry, Ms. President, but Lane Everett is one of the missing agents."

Litton seemed taken aback by that information, and considered it for a moment. "Surely you have a plan for regaining control. Would you be so kind as to tell me about it?"

"Certainly. At present, we're still formulating the plan to some extent, but what we're doing is moving some interaction agents into place. We're going to move in with teams as soon as it appears safe."

"And what if it doesn't ever appear safe?"

"Then we'll have to come up with another plan," said Sisk. "If we do, your administration will be involved in the decision processes, I can assure you."

"Of course, we will!" said Litton. "You work for us, remember? Not the other way around. My God, but military forces would look good to me right now! What ever made us think bureaucrats and toothless police forces could ever keep the world safe?"

Arlene Sisk knew the president expected no response to that question, and offered none.

"I expect reports on an hourly basis," said Litton. "I am somewhat frail, and I have to rest more than I'd like, but there will be at least one cabinet member on duty at all times, and that cabinet member will have authority to make instant decisions."

"Yes, Ms. President," said Arlene. "I'll keep the administration constantly informed but I must know how to contact you."

"Report to the Treasury Department. It's the only department still operating in the open, only because our economy would collapse under any other condition. Make your reports directly to the office of the Secretary of the Treasury. And by the way," said the president, looking Sisk in the eye, "you are the only person outside the administration who knows about our security precautions here. You will under no circumstance divulge that information to anybody!"

Arlene nodded weakly.

"That is all," said Litton. "You may go."

* * *

As soon as she returned to AABC headquarters, Arlene Sisk called a meeting of top administrators, and their highest-ranking assistants. They were ordered to assemble at once in person if they were in the northeast sector of the country, and by videoscreen if they were in any other sector. Within minutes, Arlene Sisk had five representatives from the northeast sitting in the conference room of the AABC Washington office building, and some eleven other officials were on the screens facing across the table from the live participants.

Robin Wylie represented Ed Halloran's district. Wylie had been transferred from Shreveport upon the disappearance of Halloran, Sharp, and Lane. He was a lower ranking bureaucrat at Shreveport, but his superiors promoted him when they learned someone would have to move to the Flagstaff office. He was smart enough to recognize that his superiors were motivated more by fear of the situation in the southwestern sector than by an appreciation for his ability and limited experience.

When the council was accounted for, Sisk began. "I have just conferred with the President, and apprised her of the gravity of our situation. I'm glad to report to you that we have her complete confidence and that we have all the latitude we need to act, when it's time to act. It is still our duty to make contact with The Visitors, even though they have not yet acted in a predictable manner and have not contacted us.

"The President has asked me to keep her completely informed and to report on a regular basis on our plans as well as our progress. So I will need each of you to be diligent in keeping me informed of developments, and to help in formulating plans. Are there any questions?"

"Yes, Ms. Sisk," said Wylie. "I have a question. I've just been moved to Flagstaff and there's not anybody else here except for a couple of clerks. It's my understanding that Halloran was captured by the aliens first, and then a few hours later, Sharp and Lane were captured. I don't want to sound stupid, but what am I supposed to do here?"

"For the moment, nothing," said Sisk. That is, you have no assignment yet except in an intelligence capacity. You should keep alert for any new activity or information that will affect our plans."

"That's all?" asked Wylie. "Aren't you going to send anybody else here? I mean, this is the only sector where they are, and I'm here all alone!"

"I told the president moments ago that we have agents converging on your sector from all across the country, and that is just what we're going to do."

There was a murmur that welled up among the other participants, including both the ones who were there in person and the ones who were onscreen. The older man who sat nearest to Arlene Sisk said, "You should have told us that before now, Ms. Sisk. We can't spare anybody from northeast. We have the heaviest population concentration in the country, so our resources are already strained. Besides, we've always been told our main function would be education since The Visitors were unlikely to land here."

Sisk glared at him. "Mr. Tilson, education should be essentially complete by now, and different challenges face us. I've always considered you a team player but now I'm not so sure. I had in mind for you to go to Flagstaff and take over until we have either Everett or Halloran back, since you're the most senior administrator, and your sector here is farthest from where The Visitors have landed. If you don't wish to cooperate, we can get somebody else to run your sector."

Tilson leaned back in his chair and stared morosely at the table. "That's not fair. I have less than three months until retirement and you make me choose between getting fired or eaten by space aliens!"

"Mr. Tilson! You could be dismissed for just such prejudiced raving! There is absolutely no evidence that any agent has been eaten and I will not have any AABC administrator spreading such dangerous nonsense! Do you want to cause full-scale panic?"

"I couldn't cause any more panic than there already is. The only thing that could make it worse is if the news agencies start reporting that they're moving this way."

"Nevertheless," said Sisk, "I expect you to report at Flagstaff today. And I expect you to make only positive statements to the media. Am I understood?"

"Yes. Quite," said Tilson. "I'll be there this afternoon, but I expect some help."

"And you will have it. Tess Williams is going to report to you at Flagstaff, and as soon as this meeting is dismissed, both of you will help me prepare a list of agents to move to the southwest sector. I don't intend to do it at this meeting because I don't want to hear the grumbling."

Tess Williams was visibly angry. "I'm with Tilson. I don't think this whole thing is fair either! We're supposed to risk our lives while the rest of the government is hiding!"

"They're not hiding," said Sisk. "They're merely taking some prudent security precautions."

"Not hiding! What do you think the president is doing at Camp David in the underground quarters?"

"Nobody is supposed to know where the president is! Who told you that?"

"It came out on the newsscreen this morning. Anyway, where else would she hide except in some old nuclear shelter?"

After Tilson and Williams left for Flagstaff, Sisk looked over the list of interaction agents who were newly assigned to the Flagstaff office. Only Tilson and Williams were senior personnel. Almost without exception, the youngest agents from across the country had been sent to the southwest. So much inexperience wasn't a favorable circumstance for Marilee Sharp, Lane Everett, and Ed Halloran. That last thought bothered Arlene very much because, despite everything that had transpired over the years, she still had a soft spot in her heart for Ed. Except she was quite sure the soft spot was in her head.

### 10

April 29, 2112

Ed trudged over the charred sand, now devoid of vegetation, that had begun to drift into dunes. As he limped along, he noticed that the streaks of lighter colored soil that had been uncovered by the wind contrasted strikingly with the darkened surface that was the desert only hours earlier. Ed started his trek from the ravine fairly early in the morning, and gave wide clearance to the rockets and the globes, but he was still surprised that it took him until about noon to reach Needles City Park.

Ed was not at all surprised there were no campers in the park. Camp gear and sporting equipment still littered the paved expanse, and spoiling food left on the tables buzzed with flies. Then he noticed rats gnawing at some of the refuse and he found that sight strangely comforting. The flies might have drifted here on the wind from many miles away, but the rats wouldn't have been here if the toxic cloud had rolled through.

There was a comphone in the guard building at the park's entrance, but it didn't work. Ed mopped sweat from his brow and started walking toward town until he saw the first wrecked floater that had left the highway. The door was up on the driver's side so he checked it for a mobile comphone, which it had, and the comphone gave him its familiar tone when he picked it up. At last—some luck!

Ed punched the code for the Emergency Service Department and the comphone beeped. After six beeps, a machine recording came on. "Emergency personnel are all busy at the moment. Please state your name and pertinent information. Your call will be answered momentarily, so please hold." Ed held the phone for a couple of minutes, and then the message was repeated. When the message came the third time, he resigned himself to the truth, that there was nobody at Emergency. And that meant there was nobody in Needles. He tried calling the number at AABC's office at Flagstaff, but the call wouldn't go through which meant that some of the repeater stations weren't working along the way.

There was nothing to do except walk the rest of the way into Needles. Of course nobody would be there but he would find food. And there would also be soap and water, he thought, as he rubbed again at the horrid caked mucus that splotched his arms and face.

Half an hour's journey brought him to the first houses at the edge of the City of Needles. The first two houses were locked quite securely, but the third had been left open when its occupants left in haste. Ed went inside and went to the bathroom first, where found some soap and towels. He was relieved to find that hot and cold water ran from the taps. Stripping quickly out of his reeking clothes, he stepped into the shower and began scrubbing the filth from his skin.

When he was out of the shower, Ed walked in front of a mirror and was startled to see that his skin was now splotched with red and green stains where the mucus had covered it. And then he noticed his skin was quite tender in those spots. Gripped by this sudden discovery, Ed stood and stared at himself in the mirror for several minutes. Then he became thankful that none of the stains were on his face, although a large green stain extended onto his neck where it would be visible above his collar.

At least one man who had lived in the house was about Ed's size, because he found clean clothes that fit fairly well. When he had dressed, he picked up his old clothes on the end of a coat hanger and carried them out to a trash bin at the back of the house. He was so anxious to get rid of the clothes that he almost forgot to retrieve his wallet from the pants. Then when he got the wallet, he discovered it smelled almost as bad as the clothes so he went back into the house where he found a plastic bag in which he wrapped the wallet tightly before he put it in his pocket.

Then Ed tried the comphone in the house. Again, he couldn't reach Flagstaff. There was a directory screen next to the phone, so Ed turned it on and began to call the local numbers randomly. He didn't get any answers at any except the Emergency Services number, which gave him more recorded messages. _Well_ , he thought _, there's nothing to do now except to try to get back to Flagstaff any way possible._

There was a floater in the garage. Its gauges indicated it had been recently fueled and it looked very new, though it wasn't one of the high level models. That didn't matter anyway since there wouldn't be any traffic on the highway most of the way to Flagstaff. But he couldn't find a key to it anywhere in the house.

As Ed went out, he closed the door carefully behind him so that it didn't lock and he set out to search the neighborhood for a floater for which he could also find the keys. The sixth house had a floater and the key hanging beside the door fit the vehicle. When he checked it, Ed found that this one didn't have nearly as much fuel, but it still had enough for at least 300 kilometers left in it, and that would be sufficient to get back to his office. Ed backed this floater out of the garage and started on his way to Flagstaff.

He saw no one until he got to Kingman. Where the highway passed nearest the city, he detected some movement on one of the side roads, so he took the next exit and went back to investigate. He found another floater, a very old model that had gone off the road and was stuck on a rough place where its suspension didn't work. It was bumping up and down as its driver tried to get it going again. Ed stopped nearby and put his floater on autohover and opened the door so he could get a good look at the other floater. Soon the driver of the other floater noticed Ed and stopped trying to get it unstuck. Ed waved and the driver's door opened so that Ed could see the driver was very young, a teen-age boy

Ed stepped out on the ground. "You've got a little problem, I see."

"That's right," said the youth. "These roads around here don't have ditch repellers, so I got a little too far over."

"You look young. Have you ever driven one of these before?"

"Yeah. A little. But I don't have a permit yet. You aren't going to turn me in, are you?"

"Nah. But I do want to know what you're doing out here. I didn't expect to see anybody between Needles and Flagstaff."

"It's my brother, Denny—I'm going to look for him. He left early this morning and said he was going to try to get a look at The Visitors, but he hasn't come back. Mama doesn't know where he is, but she does know he has her floater."

"I just came from Needles. I didn't see him, or anybody else for that matter. There was absolutely nobody around the town or the rockets either."

The boy's chin began to quiver. "Is... is it true what they're saying, that the aliens eat people?"

"Eat people! Who's saying that?"

"It's what everybody is saying. It came on some news reports this morning that people are getting eaten up in Afghania and Arubistan where the aliens landed."

"Has anybody actually seen it happen?" asked Ed. "And has anybody seen any of these aliens?"

"No. But they said they found skeletons—lots of them. That's why I have to go find Denny."

"I'm going to tell you something," said Ed, as he unhooked the top button of his shirt and pulled his collar back to display the green stain on his skin. "I haven't seen the aliens eat anybody, but they had me captured for a while and they're definitely dangerous. This is what they did to me. I have these splotches all over."

The boy stared at the stains.

"Now, you need to come with me. I'm going to get some help when I get back to Flagstaff. My assistant, Marilee Sharp, is very good. She'll take care of you and your Mama while I get some more agents to go back to Needles with me."

"Did you say Marilee Sharp? That's one of the agents who are missing now. The news reporters say she may have been eaten, and some other old guy, too."

Ed was shaken by that revelation. "Come on," he said quietly. "You're going to Flagstaff with me."

The boy offered no argument. He turned off the floater and let it drop to the ground with a little thud. Then he slid into the floater that Ed had commandeered.

When they were on their way, Ed asked, "What's your name, kid?"

"Freddy. Freddy Burris."

"Glad to meet you. I'm Ed Halloran, and I work for the government. I'm supposed to interact with the aliens, as soon as I figure out how."

Freddy nodded, and sat silently.

"Where do you live, Freddy?" asked Ed.

"Kingman. Or at least that's where we lived until these things came. Mama says she's afraid to go back there, so she wants to move back to New Mexico, to Tucumcari."

They talked only in brief spurts as they sped along the highway, but Ed learned a few more things about Freddy and his family. Freddy's mother had recently moved the family to Kingman from Tucumcari, so they could make a fresh start for Denny who had a record of conflict with the authorities since before he was a teen. Denny was now sixteen years old and Freddy was only thirteen, although Freddy was certainly the more responsible of the two brothers. Their mother was a widow whose only income was a small retirement fund that had been left by the father when he died five years earlier.

Denny had taken his mother's floater and sneaked away in the morning before the rest of the family was up. Before he left, though, he told Freddy he was going to see the aliens and now Freddy felt responsible because he hadn't told anyone that Denny was going.

* * *

The AABC building at Flagstaff was a hundred meters off the highway and it was a striking structure with a shiny metallic architecture unlike any other in the Arizona city. Its startling appearance was a source of pride to some of the younger agents who had worked there, but it was a thorn in the side for the older citizens who loved the traditional stark styles of the desert area. They particularly disliked the way the sun's reflection glared off the many shiny panels, though the government people pointed out that the style saved them all tax money because it required very little air conditioning.

When Ed and his young passenger came in sight of the AABC building, they both gasped at the sight. Atop the building was a huge craft that looked for all the world like a giant silver preying mantis."

"The aliens! They're here!" said Freddy.

"No. I don't think so," said Ed. "That's not an alien ship, but it has no business being here."

"What is it?"

"It's a jet veeto. That's short for jet vertical takeoff plane. It's quite old fashioned."

"What's it doing here, then?"

"That's what I'd like to know. But I'll bet it has something to do with government chiefs. Those things have been outlawed because they take so much fuel, but the government still keeps a few to carry the big shots around."

Moments later, Ed charged into the administration offices with Freddy trotting along behind. "What the devil is going on here?" he demanded of the first person he met, a young woman who had been transferred there that morning.

"Mr. Tilson is getting things organized," she said.

"Tilson? What Tilson?"

"Merrill Tilson. He's the regional administrator."

"No, he's not! Tilson is northeast! I'm in charge here!"

"But who are you?"

Ed stood with his hands on his hips and glared at her. "I'm Ed Halloran. I've been in charge of this office for ten years and I have not resigned. Now you better get Tilson out here fast!"

"Yes sir!" She jumped up from her desk and ran back into the office that had been Ed's. But now the nameplate read M. Tilson.

Within seconds, Tilson emerged from the office. Tess Williams was right behind him.

"What the devil are you doing in my office?" said Ed.

"This wasn't my idea. In fact I resisted it, but you know how Ms. Sisk can be when she gets an idea."

"Arlene! I should have known! So what did she have in mind to do with me?"

"I can't tell you that," said Tilson, "because I don't know. She sent me here because you got captured—and Sharp and Everett did, too—and nobody thought we'd ever see you again. But I want to tell you, I'm pleasantly surprised!"

"To tell you the truth, I'm glad they finally got somebody else out here. It looks like more people in here now than in the last ten years combined. They're interaction agents, I hope."

"That's right. They're the best from across the country, all assembled here because this is where the action is."

"Yeah. Sure they're the best! I remember some of them. There's Wilkins and Forth from southeast and Harkins from north central—all junior level."

"Okay. There weren't a lot of volunteers, so these are the kids who can be pushed around a little."

"They're kids, but what're you doing here?"

"That's simple. Of course, Ms. Sisk needed a real leader for a group like this. You have to admit you haven't had a new thought in years. You're an old reactionary! She needed someone bold and not afraid to take initiatives, so who else but me? Who else would be better to lead our nation into a profitable interaction with The Visitors? Who else could better foster communication and understanding between disparate lifeforms?"

"Who else but Arlene's main lackey?" said Ed.

Tilson didn't respond to that comment. Instead, he turned to a young woman sitting at the receptionist's desk and said, "Get the whole staff into the conference room. Halloran being back changes everything."

Tess Williams spoke up. "Who is with you, Mr. Halloran?"

Ed turned and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "This is Freddy Burris and he has a big problem. I want you to get an agent down here to interview him, because he believes his brother went to meet with the aliens."

"Visitors," said Tilson. "Always call them The Visitors. Anyway, you don't order my people around. I give the directions here."

"Okay. So what do you suggest?" asked Ed.

"Ms. Williams, would you please get somebody to interview the child?" said Tilson. "On second thought, I believe it would be best if you did the interview. Halloran and I will conduct the meeting."

For one hour, Ed and Tilson argued about the best way to establish contact with The Visitors. Ed proposed taking an armed squad to the alien fleet and demanding that the alien leaders come out and talk. He said we might only get their attention through the use of force. Tilson, on the other hand, advocated setting up agent outposts around the fleet to intercept any aliens who might be moving out. They would be equipped with communication equipment, gifts, and fast retreat vehicles in case there was trouble. Most of the agents polled preferred Tilson's approach. None of them wanted a post near the fleet, though.

In the end, they developed a compromise. Ed and a couple of volunteers including Robin Wylie and an agent from southeast would try to initiate contact, while the other agents would set up outposts at a safe—hopefully—distance from the fleet.

"There's one more thing I want to know," said Ed. "What on earth is that jet veeto doing on the roof?"

"The veeto? I came in that. My position here demands that I be flexible in my travel arrangements in case Ms. Sisk or the president wants me back in Washington. And I plan to keep it here as long as those aliens—I mean Visitors—might be coming this way. From what I hear, those globes are extremely fast, and I don't intend to be eaten!"

### 11

Dec. 15, 2025

Lawrence Jantzen stormed into Evan Saxon's office, and stood right in front of Saxon's desk. He had interrupted a meeting between Halloran, Philips, and Saxon, and he was seething. "What do you mean by this? How dare you send a message to the aliens without consulting the rest of us?"

"We didn't send any message," said Evan Saxon. "What I said was that the institute at Arecibo sent a message. They aren't part of ETCC and they don't answer to us."

"Still, they had no right! This thing is bigger than any one country. They shouldn't have gone ahead without asking us!"

"It seems to me that ETCC wasn't going to consult with them," said Hank Halloran. "There hasn't even been a hint of international cooperation."

"Arnetta Washington said you put them up to it," said Jantzen. "Is that true?"

"I—we, I mean. Halloran, and Philips and myself—we have been in contact with Arecibo. In fact, Bennett U. has been in daily contact with them for years. And they asked for our ideas so we told them what we thought. They did what they wanted to, then."

"From now on, don't act without checking with the commission," said Jantzen.

"I've got an idea," said Saxon. "Actually, it was Halloran's idea, but I quite agree with it. It seems to us that this job is really made up of two parts. Number one, there's the technical aspect of establishing communication: breaking codes and interpreting languages and that sort of thing is one. Number two is deciding what to say."

"I thought you already had the technical ability to send them messages," said Jantzen. "If not, then what was all this hullabaloo about Arecibo transmitting something?"

"Sending a transmission is not all there is to communicating," said Halloran. "We haven't communicated unless our transmissions are understood. That's why we tried to come up with a simple, basic message that might be possible for them to decode."

"Aha!" said Jantzen. "I knew you sent that message!"

"I didn't finish," said Saxon. "What we're suggesting is that ETCC stops worrying about trying to spend so much money and let's get on with our work. Some of us are technical people—Halloran, Philips, and me—and the rest of you are basically political. That is you all represent some part of the political spectrum, not that that's bad because politics is what makes the country tick."

"Get to the point," said Jantzen.

"Very well. We propose that the commission be broken up into subcommittees. The three of us could work on how to communicate, and the rest of the commission can concentrate on composing a message. And this whole thing won't cost the country much money."

Jantzen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "As chairman of the commission, I'd have to be on both committees. I'll bring it up with the others, though."

"I have another suggestion," said Philips. "I think we ought to get somebody down to Arecibo to visit with them in person. It would be good PR, both here and abroad."

"Good idea!" said Jantzen. "I'll be out of here early tomorrow. Who do I need to see while I'm there? You think I ought to bother talking to anybody else but President Duran? Maybe I could meet him for a tour of the observatory. Wouldn't that be a great photo-op?"

"It wasn't exactly what I had in mind," said Philips. "If we send somebody of your position, it might come off as Yanks pushing their weight around down there. They're quite sensitive about that, you know, and you do have a powerful personality."

"Hmm. What do you think, Sexton?"

"I think he's probably right," said Saxon. "However, I do believe that whoever goes should go as a representative of the United States, and we should definitely push this international cooperation theme."

Jantzen was rubbing his chin again. "Yeah. I like it, but I really think I should go. It would make a statement about how important it is."

* * *

Evan Saxon, Hank Halloran, and Lawrence Jantzen had just driven the 60 kilometers from Aeropuerto Internacionale de San Juan to Arecibo. They stopped at the gate and introduced themselves to the guard.

"Buenos dias, Senores," said the guard, who wore a military uniform. "We have been expecting you. Our president waits for you at the control room."

"Thank you," said Jantzen. "Do we need an escort here or do we just drive over there."

The guard smiled. "No escort is necessary for our friends. However, Corporal Garcia has been assigned to help you find your way." He waved to a young soldier who had been standing at parade rest beside the guard building.

"This way, Senores. You may park your auto over there, and I will walk with you to the control room."

It was a long walk to the control building, and Garcia led them along at a brisk pace. Saxon and Halloran kept up well enough, but Jantzen was soon huffing and falling behind.

"I think we're losing Jantzen," said Halloran.

Garcia looked back. "Sorry."

When Jantzen caught up, Garcia started again, but at a slower pace. It still took a few minutes before they arrived at the control building, an old stone structure that looked as if it dated from colonial times.

"Doesn't look like much," said Halloran.

"No," said Jantzen, "but it has ambiance. What delightful ambiance."

"It's old," said Garcia. "But it is secure and it serves our purposes."

The inside of the building belied the musty exterior. A waiting room in front was finished lavishly, and furnished with excellent antique chairs and tables. Spanish art lined the walls.

"Eh. What do you think?" asked the corporal.

"Very nice," said Jantzen. "I'm impressed. One certainly would not expect all this from the outside."

Garcia beamed, obviously proud.

"Good morning! Welcome to Arecibo!"

They all turned to see who was speaking. President Duran smiled and waved his arm with a big flourish. "You like our facility, I take it?"

"Yes. Very much," said Saxon. "I've never been to the observatory, but I certainly didn't expect this!"

"Our presidente spends much time here, now that Arecibo is so important in matters of the universe. Naturally, it had to be furnished better than for peons, eh?" said Garcia.

"I bring greetings from President Rogers," said Jantzen. "He sends his warmest regards."

"Warmest regards, eh?" said Duran. "Now he knows who I am at last!"

"Um... Ah... I can assure you that President Rogers holds you in the highest... ah," Jantzen stammered, at an uncharacteristic loss for words.

Duran smiled at Jantzen's discomfort. "It was just a little joke, Jefe. It meant nothing."

"Certainly. No problem," said Jantzen.

"I'm really anxious to see the facility, Mr. President," said Halloran. "From what I hear from Saxon, it must be really something."

"Ah, yes. We must have a tour," said Duran. "Really, you North Americans should be proud since you supplied much of this equipment. But we are proud also, because we have refined it and extended its capabilities so much. I don't know that we would ever have been able to receive the alien signals if we had not increased the sensitivity of the receiver to microwaves."

"I'm sure Sexon and Halloran know all about that," said Jantzen. "I don't, though. I'm just here to represent our president."

"Follow me, if you will." Duran led them through a doorway that was flanked by two military guards. One of them stood at attention while the other opened the door for the group to pass.

Inside they found a very large room with screens across two adjacent walls. Duran waved to a technician, and the lights dimmed in the room. The room became inky dark at first, before lights began to gleam from the screen. Then they also saw the screen on the other wall but only a few lights appeared on it.

"This is a very important room," said Duran. "The screen to your left shows a panoramic view of a portion of the sky for any particular wavelength that you might wish. It is set now for visible light, such as you would see from a common reflecting telescope, although we can program the display to show radiation of any wavelength. I show you that because it is the most familiar view to us humans, eh."

"Yes, quite," said Saxon, "although the Arecibo facility is most important for its pioneer work in radio astronomy."

"Now on this other screen, we show a cross section of space, as if it were viewed from a position perpendicular to our view. Do you see this?" asked Duran.

"Yes. This is fabulous," said Halloran.

"I agree," said Saxon. "Viewed from a point perpendicular would put us on that plane, wouldn't it?"

"Ah, yes. You are quite right," said Duran. "Watch when I turn on the indicator. Over on the right hand side of the screen."

As they watched a red point of light began to flash at the edge of the screen. A thin red line now bisected the first screen vertically.

"Perhaps you have guessed already that the second screen indicates the points within a small range of the cursor on the first screen. That is why there are fewer points displayed, since it only shows those features that are on the line. Also, the indicator shows the position of our own solar system on the map."

"My, my!" said Jantzen. "I didn't know space got so much more crowded the farther out you go!"

"Ah, but that is an illusion!" said Duran. "Space is so large that is almost impossible to comprehend, so we make the screen display distances logarithmically. That means that distance is compressed the farther out you go, so the smaller the distance is shown. Understand, Jefe?"

"Uh, yeah. I think so," said Jantzen, "but I'm sure my colleagues understand perfectly, which is all that matters."

"Would you like to operate the controls, any of you?"

"Yes, I would," said Halloran. "This is exciting. I've never even been around anything like this."

"El raton?" asked Duran.

"Pardon. My Espanol is not good. You said something about a rat, I thought," said Halloran.

"A small rat, Senor Halloran! A mouse actually," said Duran. "I have installed a mouse on the controls, an old fashioned computer mouse, like in the old days."

Halloran smiled suddenly. "Yeah, I remember that! That used to be the handiest thing on the small computers!"

"Exactly." Duran handed a control to Halloran. "Use the mouse to find a star, if you wish."

Halloran played with the device, and soon had a red flashing 'mouse' zipping around on the screen. Soon he stopped with it pointed to a moderately bright point, and the thin red line scrolled across the screen until it intersected the point of light that he had chosen. The other screen went dark for a few seconds, and then lights began to appear randomly across it. One red light in the middle of the screen flashed rapidly.

"You see over here," said Duran. That is the point you have selected. Though you cannot see it on the large screen, the feature you have chosen, which is a star in our own galaxy, is identified on a monitor back at the control desk."

Duran took a few minutes to explain the displays of stars and galaxies and other more exotic features to the group, and he showed them how to scroll the giant display across and through the universe in any direction and any plane. Then to Jantzen in particular, he explained why the display didn't show planets in any of the solar systems, after Jantzen volunteered that the USA would build him another more sensitive system that would show all the planets in each system. Saxon and Halloran were each embarrassed by Jantzen's ostentatious display of ignorance, but Duran patiently overlooked it.

"This is something! This is really something!" said Jantzen. "Just to think that you can work little controls in here, and huge telescopes start spinning around out there so we can see all this!"

Duran tried hard not to smile. "Oh no! There are no telescopes attached to this. This is only a computer display of outer space. It is a very large three-dimensional map and it contains data that has taken many years to assemble and enter. This information comes from observatories all over the world. Also, much information has been supplied by the various space telescopes that are in orbit, although most of the minor material is suppressed here to keep this display from becoming too crowded to comprehend."

"Oh." Jantzen's face took on a distant gaze as he thought about what he had been seeing.

"Perhaps we could see the radio astronomy lab," said Saxon. "This is all quite interesting, but contact with the aliens is most important to us right now."

"Of course," said Duran. "But let me show you one more thing here. I am going to superimpose some maps of selected microwavelength radiation over the visible light map. Microwave radiation, 50 mm. wavelength in this case, is shown in blue light."

Within seconds, the huge display glowed with strange patterns of blue lights in addition to the gleaming white dots.

"Now watch the 'mouse', please."

They watched as the flashing red 'mouse' pointer moved across the screen with its point on a bright blue dot in the center of the screen. Then at Duran's direction, the blue display of microwave radiation faded from the screen, and there was no corresponding dot for visible light. On the other screen, there was no display for a considerable distance in any direction.

"This is what you scientists already knew, but perhaps Mr. Jantzen did not. This point represents the source of the alien transmissions. There is no known star within half a light year of the place from which the aliens seem to be transmitting. We know the direction because that is where we aim our antenna to receive it."

"How do you know it's right there?" asked Jantzen. "See, if you go out quite a bit further, there is a star that is about in line with it."

"Yes, but it is far enough out of line that we can definitely tell that star is not the source of the transmission. We establish that distance from here by measuring out half of the four and a half years it took for them to acknowledge our transmission."

"Is that the only way we can determine the distance?" asked Halloran.

"There would be other ways to measure the distance if it were visible light," said Duran. "But radio wavelengths, even microwaves this short, simply do not have the sharpness of light, so we can't use the usual triangulation methods."

"Then what if their change in the message wasn't a response at all, but they simply decided to change recordings and it happened to work out to be four and a half years? What if they weren't signaling to us at all?"

"Oh no!" cried Jantzen. "You're saying this could be a hoax? Rogers won't like this at all!"

"It's definitely not a hoax," said Saxon, "but I think it's possible they may have taken some time to come up with a new message after they picked up our response. Say, if they worked on a response for three months before they changed the message, then it would only work out that they were two light years away, instead of two and a fourth."

"That is quite true," said Duran. It is also true that if this is a response, the only way we could be in error is if they were actually closer than what we've calculated."

"And on the other side, if it were only by chance that they changed their message at this particular time, then they might be clear across the known universe," said Saxon.

"That also means that response time has to be longer," said Halloran. "If you think about it, twenty light years away would make a forty year wait for a response. And fifty light years would mean we can just write it up in the history books and wait for our grandchildren to get the answer."

"Oh, oh!" said Jantzen. "I don't like what I'm hearing, and Rogers certainly isn't going to like it!"

### 12

April 30, 2112

Ed Halloran and Robin Wylie took the high level floater, and an interaction agent from Southeast named Richie Taylor followed them in a fast standard floater. They started back to Needles just after sunrise the morning after Ed returned to Flagstaff. They planned for Ed and Robin Wylie to scout the area around the rocket fleet from a safe distance while Taylor remained back at the city park and kept in contact via the secure comphones in the floaters. His job was to report back to Flagstaff if anything happened to Ed and Wylie. Then at Ed's direction, squads of interaction agents would follow later in the morning and deploy at intervals around the rocket fleet and the armada of globes.

When they first arrived, there was no sign of any activity around the rocket fleet. There was a great difference, though, in the appearance of the desert. The wind had moved the desert sand so that now there were only a few long streaks of the black charred top showing between great drifting dunes. The wind was still blowing hard and sand filled the air so much that the sun's light was reduced to a reddish brown glow.

"I wonder if those things ever saw a dust storm like this before?" asked Robin.

"I doubt it," said Ed. "Not unless they carried some sand with them on the rockets. They were in space so long that all these aliens probably were born along the way."

"Yeah. Or hatched, maybe. From what I've studied, the aliens have always chosen not to send any information about themselves, even though Earth has been spilling our collective guts for years to them—like we had some sort of compulsion."

"Yeah. I never thought it was wise, but Sisk was in charge. But even if we'd forced them to swap information about themselves for information about us, we don't know that they would have been truthful."

Then the comphone buzzed so Ed hit the answer button. "Yeah. What's up, Taylor?"

"Do you want me to look around here for the Burris boy's floater while I'm waiting for you? I'd stay close to the park and maybe wander around the side roads this side of town."

"Yeah. That's a good idea? Got the description of the floater?"

"Right here somewhere. Yes. Ten year old Chrysler. It was green matte finish until it faded, and it has a polarized tinted dome. Vehicle ident AZ399265B."

"That's good, Taylor. Buzz if you need us. There's not any visible activity out here so we're going to check out the ravine where I was taken before."

Ed took the floater on a wide swing south of the rocket fleet and circled around toward the ravine. This time he saw none of the globes, but he went on past before turning north. Then they came back toward the ravine a couple of miles north of the area where they had been. There was no sign of aliens or their globes.

Wylie pushed the call button on the comphone. "Just checking in, Taylor. No sign of Visitors in the gully. Have you found anything yet?"

"No. No, wait! I see something out there! I don't believe it!"

"Don't believe what?" asked Ed.

"There's a pile of your globes up here maybe a kilometer off the highway on a side road. It's just a very big perfect hemisphere dome. It looks like they ought to roll off!"

"What's your location?" asked Ed.

"Highway Forty, about half way between the park and town. The globes are south of the highway."

"We passed that way coming," said Wylie. "Why didn't we see them?"

"I guess we just weren't observant," said Ed. "Once you get out of Needles, those big rockets grab your attention and you don't notice things off to the side."

Ed took the floater back to the highway and they joined Taylor at the intersection. Ed pulled up beside Taylor where they could see each other, but they still used the comphone to talk.

"We don't seem to be getting any reaction from them," said Taylor. "Have we got a plan for this?"

"Yes, we have," said Ed. "It's not very well developed but we do have a plan. We make contact."

Wylie gulped and stared at the globes. "We? You said we make contact?"

"Me, actually. I want you to get into Taylor's floater and you both observe from the highway. If anything happens to me, you get on the long distance comphone, not the security channel. And get back to Flagstaff as fast as you can."

Wylie didn't argue. He left Ed's vehicle and joined Taylor. Taylor then raised his floater to three meters which was its maximum altitude so they could see better. Up until then, he'd been creeping around with his floater only centimeters above the road. Ed brought his high level floater up to five meters, which was the altitude at which it would travel at its top speed.

Ed brought the floater slowly onto the side road and gazed at the dome formation of globes ahead. Then he turned the forward repeller to full power. "Now we're going to make contact one way or another," he said as he pressed the accelerator all the way down. The floater fairly snapped as it accelerated toward the globes, and Ed held his breath.

He half expected the formation to disperse, shoot, or take some other defensive action before he got there, but the globes didn't move. The force of the repellers riding at something over 200 kmh scattered globes like a billiards break. It also sent Ed's floater spinning away like a toy top. Fortunately for Ed, the vehicle's drive computer regained control and stopped it a few hundred meters down the road, and let it settle gently on autohover. However, Ed did not regain control of himself immediately, because the spin left him quite dizzy. When he did recover his equilibrium in a couple of minutes, he turned the floater around to see what he had done.

Most of the globes had dispersed, although some of them—perhaps a fourth—were now joined in a smaller dome formation and it was obvious that some of them had left the area completely, Several of the globes lay in pieces on the ground like shattered Christmas tree ornaments. And where the formation had been was a battered old green floater. Ed yelled into his comphone. "I've found the Burris kid's floater! The globes had him surrounded."

Wylie called back. "Can you tell if he's alright?"

"Don't know," said Ed. But while he watched, the green floater slowly rose a couple of meters above the roadway and sped somewhat unsteadily back to Highway Forty. "I think we can now say that's affirmative," said Ed. "You guys follow him until he gets away from here a safe distance. Then stop him and see if he's okay."

"Okay," said Wylie. "But I think the answer is going to be that he's not hurt but he's real scared from the way he just shot by here!"

Ed watched for a minute as Wylie and Taylor started after the green floater, then he turned his attention back to the globes. Since he had the high level floater that could travel off-road, he moved cautiously over to the nearest broken globes. Each had held an alien, he saw, and now each alien was scrambled into a putrid mess. Some were still half inside the broken shells, but others were splattered across the ground. And Ed wondered if he had just started a war.

The globes did not regroup, at least not in the immediate area. All but a few of the unbroken globes rose on tails of flame and shot off in a hundred directions, but none of them came near Ed's floater. Ed raised the vehicle to its full ten meter altitude where he could best see, turned it slowly as he surveyed the desert. The air was thick enough with blowing sand that it obscured the horizon, but there was no sign of the globes for the two or three kilometers he could see. There were perhaps ten globes laying randomly in the area and Ed wondered if those were disabled, or if perhaps the globes were functional but the aliens inside them had been injured or killed.

Ed took the floater on a large sweep near each of the intact globes so he could have a closer look. Only a couple of them had damage he could see. For a moment he thought about getting out of his floater for a closer investigation, then reconsidered. However, he did travel a few hundred meters away, stopped, and picked up several medium-sized stones. Ed left the gullwing door slightly ajar and moved back to a few meters away from one of the globes. Cautiously then, he raised the door about half way and threw one of the stones at the globes. It bounced off with a metallic ching. Then he went to another and tossed another stone with the same result. On the third try, when the stone struck, it cracked the globe. As Ed watched, that globe split completely apart, like an eggshell into two jagged halves. Inside was an alien, apparently quite alive. Ed figured it was probably also quite angry.

Then Ed decided it would be wise to leave these aliens alone and rejoin Wylie, Taylor, and the Burris boy. He turned the floater around and started back to the road. But just as he reached the road, he detected movement in his rear-view screen. One of the globes had been reactivated and was now following him at high speed.

Ed pushed his comphone on and yelled. "I've got some activity here! You guys get back to Flagstaff!"

Then Ed turned the floater so that he faced the oncoming globe. He again turned his repeller to full power and accelerated toward the globe. Just before he got close enough for the repeller to have effect, the globe veered sharply upward on a brilliant stream of fire. For just a moment, Ed lost sight of the globe as he went past, but then he saw it in his rear-view screen. It was coming fast and right at him. Just when it looked as if it would surely collide, Ed spun the floater around again to face the globe and raised it quickly to ten meters above the roadway. With the repeller still on full power, the alien globe was deflected downward onto the pavement where it shattered, leaving gooey alien body substances smeared along the road among the fragments.

Ed turned on his comphone again. "Are you guys okay? Are you on your way back to Flagstaff?"

"We're okay," came Taylor's reply. "We are into Arizona already, with no more contact."

"Good," said Ed. "I'll join you when I can, but I'm going to take a quick swing north of the highway first."

"Are you sure that's wise?" asked Robin Wylie.

"On the contrary. I'm sure it's not wise, but it's what I've got to do."

Ed took the same road north from the highway for several kilometers, riding along slowly at ten meters so he could see the country around him. Then he saw the other globes. It was another domed formation of globes just like the one he'd just broken up. At first, he started to turn around and race back to Flagstaff with his colleagues, but then he thought of Marilee Sharp and Everett Lane. _Were they being held here just as was Denny Burris across the highway?_

Ed decided he had to risk another confrontation, so he turned his floater facing the globe formation and set the repeller on full, before zooming across the desert straight at them. The other group must have contacted these aliens, though, because globes shot off in every direction just before he reached them. None of these globes were wrecked as in the other confrontation and they also did not race away. Globes flitted about on their thin flames some two or three hundred meters away.

Then Ed saw the other floater! It had been caught inside the formation just exactly like the Burris floater. Ed pushed the code for Lane's comphone and yelled at them. "Marilee! Lane! Is that you?"

At first there was no answer, but the floater rose slowly and turned about. Then he heard Marilee yelling. "Ed! You got away! How?"

"Never mind! Let's get away from here before they come back."

"We're on our way!" It was Lane's voice.

Ed waited until they were past him, and then fell in behind them. "Soon as you're on the road where it's safe, you'd best get a move on! I'm coming right behind you."

When the floaters reached the roadway, they accelerated until the floaters were going at maximum speed. They slowed down barely enough to get on Highway Forty, and then resumed their frantic pace back to headquarters. Ed checked the rear-view screen frequently, but he didn't see anything until they were at the Arizona border.

"We have Visitors," he announced. "They're following us, but not very closely. They're a couple of kilometers back."

"Yes. I see them too," said Marilee. "I don't think it's all of them, though. It doesn't look like more than a dozen."

"They don't seem to be gaining on us, but keep it moving just the same. Don't slow down." Ed figured that advice was probably unnecessary.

The aliens dropped out of pursuit somewhere between Needles and Kingman but they still didn't slow down. Once they were past Kingman, Ed managed to reestablish contact with Wylie and Taylor. "I have great news," said Ed. "Marilee and Lane have escaped. They're just ahead of me."

Wylie, Taylor, and Burris responded with an ear-splitting cheer.

* * *

When they all arrived back at the AABC building, agents cheered for the freeing of Marilee Sharp, Everett Lane, and Denny Burris. Then Tilson ran out to greet them. "Ed Halloran! I never thought you could do it! I didn't expect I'd ever see you again!"

Tess Williams ran out to hug Marilee, but she drew back. "Omigosh, but you smell awful!"

Then Freddy Burris ran out to greet his older brother, but he also retreated. It was soon obvious that those who had been captured by the aliens had picked up their horrible odor, even if they had not touched them.

"You bet it's bad," said Taylor, "but we had it worse! Can you imagine riding in the same floater with Denny all the way back from Needles?"

Williams wrinkled her nose. "Do you know something, Taylor? You and Wylie smell just about as bad, just from being around the kid."

Then a technician rushed into the room. "We have another problem. Everybody who's been around the al...—I mean Visitors—is radioactive. It's low level so there's no immediate danger, but you should get cleaned up soon."

"I have a suggestion," said Tilson. "There are shower facilities on level two for the men and level three for Ms. Sharp, and I'm sure we can find some maintenance uniforms for all of you. Let's meet for the debriefing in about twenty minutes when you are all more socially acceptable."

"I'll go for that!" said Lane, and then they all hurried off to the showers.

In a few minutes they were reassembled in the conference room, with Arlene Sisk lowering at them from a wall screen. She was incredulous. "I'm to understand you attacked them?"

"Not attacked, exactly," said Ed. "I forced a confrontation and seem to have come out ahead for the moment."

"For the moment! But only for the moment! Don't you understand The Visitors are an advanced civilization? They've gone past war and conflict. They are a civilization with perfect unity, and we could learn so much from them! But did you go out and talk with them, to reason out why they seemed to be holding Sharp and Lane? No! You attacked them!"

"Perhaps you'd like to come out here and reason with them," said Ed.

"Don't you be impertinent with me! For years now, I've overlooked your insubordination. I've even fixed it every single time you've messed up, but this time you have gone too far! President Litton will have your head for this!"

"Then perhaps President Litton would like to reason with them, if she's ready to come up out of her hiding place."

"Ed Halloran! How dare you!" She glared from the large screen before it went blank.

"Halloran, I don't know how you get by with it," said Tilson. "I'd have been fired years ago!"

"It's simple," said Ed. "She really loves me."

### 13

Jan. 4, 2026

Evan Saxon endured Jantzen's speech to the commission, while Jantzen carped about the various commissioners not acting like members of the team. He never called Saxon, Halloran, or Philips by name but they all knew Jantzen was peeved at them. And then they fidgeted as Helen Norden expounded on the message she proposed sending to the aliens.

"I believe we must be brutally frank," said Helen Norden. "That is the only way we can expect them to open up to us. We must expose every blemish, every spot to demonstrate our honesty."

"You may be expecting too much," said Saxon. "The aliens aren't human, and there's absolutely no reason to expect them to react with any semblance of human nature."

"I agree with Helen," said Arnetta Washington. "This can be psychologically healing for the entire human race because, after all, these space creatures can pose no threat whatever to any of us, since they're so far away that travel is impossible. It will do the world good to face up to the repression and racism that has run through the course of history."

"This is crazy," said Hank Halloran. "You people just want to make this a political forum and that's not what it ought to be. We need to concentrate on a few basic facts about Earth and its inhabitants, and our solar system. This is hardly the place for bashing European culture."

Norden slammed her hand on the table, and Arnetta Washington jumped up from her chair. "Mr. Halloran!" said Washington. "Nobody said anything about Eurocentrism!"

"Oh, come on, now!" said Halloran. "Anybody can see what you're driving at! That drivel is sickening!"

Jantzen waved his arms. "Please! Please control yourselves! We won't get anywhere unless we learn to work in harmony! Now I promise all of you our approach will be balanced. President Rogers wouldn't have it any other way."

There was awkward silence as commission members glared at each other across the table. Then Jantzen spoke. "I have a suggestion. Some of us are more interested in the message, while some others are more interested in the technique of communication. Therefore, I propose that we divide into two subcommittees. We'll have scientists in one group to work on the mechanics of communication, and social experts in the other group to compose the messages we will send."

"I like that," said Norden. "It's refreshing to work with someone thoughtful like you, Mr. Jantzen. Some members of this group never had such an original thought." She was looking at Hank Halloran.

"Very well, then. Is that satisfactory to the rest of you?" asked Jantzen.

"I think it's an extremely good idea," said Saxon.

The rest of the commission nodded their agreement, except for Philips who shook his head.

"You don't like this, Mr. Philips?" asked Jantzen.

"Oh, I suppose I'll go along," said Philips.

"Good! Good! That means we're all in agreement," said Jantzen. "I will be on both committees of course. And I promise all of you that I will keep everyone apprised of our progress."

* * *

"I don't see how you guys can go along with this business about them deciding what to say," said Philips. "Can't you tell already what their game is?"

"Yes, absolutely," said Saxon. "But think about this: How would anybody in that group know what we're sending anyway?"

Halloran grinned. "Jantzen was afraid this was all a big hoax anyway. We wouldn't want to disappoint him!"

"Actually, I don't intend for it to be a hoax," said Saxon. "With four and a half years between a transmission and an answer, we're going to have an awful lot of time to transmit. So what if we take twenty minutes now and then for a paid political announcement, which technically is all we'd have to do. Then we have most of the rest of the time for real work."

"Besides, it's Arecibo sending the messages. Duran doesn't have to transmit anything he doesn't want to," said Halloran.

Saxon smiled. "I've worked with Duran for a long time now. He's agreed to use English as our Earth-to-alien language in return for access to our supercomputer decoding capability. He is, in effect, a member of our subcommittee, except he doesn't have to put up with Jantzen!"

* * *

Text of Helen Norden's proposed message to the aliens:

Greetings to our friends across the Universe:

We, the people of Earth, are pleased to learn that we are not alone in the universe. It is our hope that we can share our knowledge with you and that you, in turn, will share your knowledge with us. We realize that your civilization must be advanced far beyond ours. However, we learn and we are maturing.

We must confess that our history has many blemishes, that our world as a whole is racist and sexist. We are scarred from wars and our planet suffers from the pollution we cause. Indeed, we have been our own worst enemies throughout the entire course of our existence. Shamefully, the strongest have exploited and enslaved the week, and even now, such evil seeks to retain its grip on our institutions.

Therefore it is our hope that you will freely offer the secrets of your civilization for the enlightenment of our planet.

Sincerely,

From the Citizens of Earth

* * *

"That is complete manure," said Halloran, when he finished reading the proposed draft. "I wonder how much they spent to come up with that crap."

"Considerable, I imagine," said Saxon. "I understand their group has rented an office building and hired an administrator, a librarian, and a public relations expert. In addition to the secretarial pool."

"We can't let them get away with this!" said Halloran. "Hey, I've got an idea. Maybe we can talk Jantzen and Rogers into expanding the commission. If we had about a dozen ordinary citizens... "

"Nah. The last thing we need is for this to turn into a major bureaucracy," said Philips. "I propose we just handle it quietly."

"How's that?" asked Saxon.

"Simple. They publish anything they want to, but it's like you said. They don't have any way to know what we're sending. And besides that, if we decode what the aliens are saying, we get to publish the translation."

Halloran grinned. "I like it!"

"Still and all, Jantzen asked us to put our comments on this stupid letter. Who wants to do it?"

"Give it to me. I'll do it," said Halloran.

"But please be tactful," said Saxon.

"Yeah. Sure." Halloran grinned.

* * *

Hank Halloran's comments:

1. The aliens are not necessarily our friends. They may not even think in terms of friends and foes.

2. They are in our own galaxy, not across the universe. They are, in fact, as close as the wart on your nose, astronomically speaking.

3. There is no reason to believe they are more advanced than we are. It may be that their only technology consists of microwave radio transmission and reception.

4. It is absurd to tell them all the faults of our civilization(s). Are you trying to scare them or what?

5. Racist and sexist? These are highly arbitrary assessments from a very narrow political perspective. Besides, the aliens probably will have no equivalent of race and sex and they won't know what you're blathering about.

6. Don't you think it's a bit much to expect that their civilization, if any, would have any relevance to us? Since they are not human, they won't possess human nature or any of our characteristics.

7. Please try to make this a little less political—okay?

* * *

Evan Saxon looked over Halloran's notes. "They're not going to take this well."

Philips: "Who cares?"

### 14

April 30, 2112

When Arlene Sisk reported to the Secretary of the Treasury about Halloran's confrontation with The Visitors, he told her that the president wished to speak with her again, immediately and in person. So Sisk flew to Camp David and went through the same security procedures as the last time before being admitted to President Litton's underground office.

This time the president wasted no time on cordialities. "Well? You have some results to report, I hope."

"Ms. President, I'm afraid the situation now is still somewhat less than desirable."

The president seemed pained. "So Secretary Burke has told me. I was hoping you could improve on that grim report."

"I would love to. However, that agent I told you about—the one I wanted to fire—has made a very bad error again."

Litton waited for Sisk to explain. "Go on."

"I'm afraid Mr. Halloran decided—all on his own—to attack The Visitors. We're quite fortunate not to have provoked immediate retaliation, but we still don't know what all the ramifications will be."

"But Secretary Burke did say the other two agents were freed as a result, as well as a young citizen who had been taken."

"Yes, that is true. That is the only fortunate result of this entire episode."

"What else have you done to improve the situation?"

"We have agents prepared to deploy at strategic locations where they may be able to make contact. However, they have presently delayed deployment until we have we have more facts, because of Agent Halloran's rash actions."

"Halloran is the only one in your entire organization who is taking any initiative, as far as I can tell, so you'd better not dismiss him or you'll have to answer to me," said Litton. "Certainly, everybody else seems afraid to do anything, especially you."

"Ms. President! I assure you I'm doing everything I know how to do!"

"Yes. I'm quite sure you are, but that doesn't seem to be sufficient. I'm considering changing this whole organization." Litton rose from her chair and walked across the room, where she pulled a rope that drew the drapes back from a large wallscreen. "This is the closest I get to an outside view. I think I'll change that too. I'm tired of hiding down here."

Sisk was unsure whether she should remain seated, or follow as the president paced around the office. Arlene turned her chair occasionally to face Litton. "What sort of changes do you have in mind, if I may ask?"

"AABC is not right for dealing with the aliens right now," said Litton. "I'm not going to disband you, but we need more of a military style organization for this situation."

"But... But that's so regressive!"

"Perhaps it is. But AABC has convinced the whole world that the aliens had to be treated as if they were a special minority when they arrived, and that would make them love and respect us. But the reality is that all over the world, nobody has even been able to make contact, let alone treat them any way at all."

"And you think an army is going to fix this?"

"I think an army type mentality is what we need right now. I don't care what you call it. I've also got in mind that Halloran should head up this force, so please arrange for him to talk with me at the first opportunity."

"Would you like for him to report here at Camp David?"

"Yes, as soon as possible." Then Litton went back and sat back and sat behind her large desk. "No, that's not right. I've changed my mind."

"About Ed Halloran?"

"No. About him reporting here. Send him to meet me at the White House. That's where I'm going to be."

* * *

Merrill Tilson, at Ed Halloran's insistence, convened a meeting in the large conference room of the Flagstaff office with all the interaction agents. The subject of the meeting was to be deployment of the squads as they had originally planned before Ed's confrontation with The Visitors. However, Tilson insisted at the start that Arlene Sisk must be brought in on the wallscreen to participate in the planning.

"That's not a good move," said Ed. "Arlene's a social worker type, hardly the kind of help you need dealing with a dangerous enemy."

"I resent that," said Tilson. "You don't have any room to talk about good moves after that stunt with the floater! The Visitors weren't necessarily enemies until you attacked them, but now—who can tell?"

But Tilson sat at the head of the meeting table and so he had the wallscreen controls. Arlene Sisk soon frowned at them all from the large screen.

"Yes? What do you want?" asked Sisk.

"Can you join us now for a planning session?" asked Tilson. "Halloran wants to get the squads back out there like we had first planned, but I just don't know if that would be wise."

"It probably wouldn't be wise, but it's moot anyway," said Sisk. "There's been a major change."

"How is that?" asked Tilson.

"I told you I'd try to smooth things over with the president for Halloran. I did, and I must have done it too well. The president wants to set up some kind of military unit to deal with The Visitors, and she wants Ed to lead it."

"Military! That's crazy!" said Tilson.

"It sounds reasonable to me," said Ed. "It's a cinch we're not getting anywhere with a bunch of social scientists running the show."

"Just the same," said Sisk, " the president wishes to speak with you in person. You should report first to Secretary Burke for instructions."

"Burke? From Treasury? But why aren't you making the arrangements?"

Sisk didn't answer. Instead, the screen went blank.

Tilson stared at Ed. "I don't believe it! How do you do it?"

"I told you already! I told you she really loves me!"

### 15

May 17, 2112

It was an unlikely collection to call a military unit, comprised of fifteen old men and a couple of old women, as well as young Robin Wylie and Richie Taylor. It also included Marilee Sharp, much to Ed's displeasure. He had tried to talk her out of enlisting because of the danger, but she insisted. Everett Lane had also wanted to join the unit, but President Litton insisted that he move to Flagstaff as head of Southwest AABC, with Merrill Tilson and Tess Williams returning to Northeast.

Ed had the group assembled at a training area near Kingman, and Lane came to watch them.

"They don't look much like soldiers," said Lane. "Most of those old guys have trouble standing up without crutches, let alone fight."

"These are real soldiers," said Ed. "It has been so long since the military was disbanded, there are no young soldiers. Even these soldiers have never seen any combat, but at least they do have the training."

"Couldn't you have brought in the UN police?"

"Hardly. All the UN forces know how to do is move in and take over a belligerent country's computers. They have laser modems but they don't have laser guns."

"Of course. There's no bloodshed that way."

"But it won't work here. We don't know how to get into their computers or even if they use computers."

"But you don't have weapons," said Lane. "How are you going to fight them without weapons?"

"According to President Litton, we're not supposed to fight them at all unless there is no other choice. But we are ordered to make contact, and that includes forcing some kind of communication. It's quite possible that will provoke a fight. But we do have weapons, of sorts. Let me show you."

Ed called Captain Baines to the front. "Captain, show us your repeller cannon."

Baines, a wiry, balding man who walked with a limp, stepped out of formation and walked over to a floater that had a tube mounted to its front by a flange. Baines opened the luggage cover and took out a bottled soft drink that he slid into the tube until it hit bottom with a soft thunk. "Do you want me to demonstrate, sir?"

"Yes, please do," said Ed.

Baines got into the vehicle, turned it away from the troops, then looked back at Ed who waved at him. Suddenly the bottle flew several hundred meters through the air, bursting as it hit, and spraying the drink over a wide area.

"My gosh!" said Lane. "How did he do that?"

"It's a trick the teen-agers pull, with a slight modification," said Ed. "Haven't you seen them when they're hanging out together at one of the parks?"

"I guess I haven't," said Lane.

"Well, I have," said Ed. "Just a few days ago I saw a bunch of kids playing around with bottles of pop. They put it on the nose of the floater, just in front of the repeller. Then they turn on the repeller and the bottle goes flying. I just added the tube to give it some direction."

"And you think you're going to fight highly advanced aliens with bottled drinks! Don't you even have laser guns?"

"A few. About half the troops have them but they're less than effective against the globes. We scavenged pieces of broken globes and found they reflect laser beams, even the beams with high ionic content trailers. They're more dangerous to the soldier that fires them than to his target."

"Your cannon sure makes a mess, though!"

"Only temporarily. Those bottles degrade in the sun. The cola on the ground will last longer than the bottle."

"So what's your plan?"

"Target practice for now. Then we go after the aliens and get their attention."

Ed and Lane watched as the troops took target practice with a few cartons of drinks. After a few rounds, some of the troops could shoot accurately enough to land a bottle in one of the domed globe formations. Most could not, however. Bottles usually landed several meters away from their targets. But Captain Baines was an exception. The lame old soldier could usually land a bottle within a meter of its target at a range of 300 meters. When Lane stared with awe, Ed explained that Baines was the last of the old bazooka gunners and had developed a knack for this sort of thing.

"I have six more high level floaters in the shop for modification," said Ed. "I'm having a hatch installed so the bottles can be loaded from the inside. You can bet Baines will be driving one of those."

* * *

The troops practiced for two days, and then early the following morning, they set out in a convoy to confront the aliens. Ed led the group, with Marilee riding in his floater. Richie Taylor and Robin Wylie followed in the next vehicle and Captain Baines followed after that. The captain had picked another old soldier to help him with the ammunition. In all, there were eleven floaters, with the last in the caravan carrying a soldier and a reporter. The next six floaters following Ed all had been modified to load the bottles from the inside, but Ed's vehicle didn't have a tube mounted on the repeller at all. Instead, it was equipped with a high-powered bullhorn with which Ed hoped to get the aliens' attention.

They passed the first formation of globes a few kilometers west of Needles, so far south from highway 10 that they could barely see it. Ed told them to ignore that formation, and had Marilee mark its position on their mapscreen. "We will scout the entire area before we try to make any contact," he said. "If there is more than one group of them, we ought to know it."

They found another formation several kilometers north of highway 10 just off a crossroad. This position was duly recorded and Ed's troops completed a large circle of the entire area around Needles and Needles City Park without finding any others.

Then Ed led them back to the fleet of alien rockets. He instructed the force to set up in a large circle with all the floaters facing out so they couldn't be surprised. Each repeller gun was loaded, and the floaters that could be loaded from the inside were arranged so that they occupied every second position. Satisfied that they were in a good defensive formation, Ed took his floater to the rocket fleet.

"Well, Marilee. This is why I didn't want you coming along. I'm going in there to make contact now and it's risky. I didn't want to put you in danger," he said. "In fact, the more I think about it, the less I like it. I'm going to take you back and leave you with Wylie and Taylor."

"Not on your life!" Marilee folded her arms and stared back at him.

Uh-oh. I've seen that look before, thought Ed. "If it's a direct order, you have to. This is army, not AABC."

"So courtmartial me. I've read about military and that's how they handle insubordination."

"Crud!" said Ed. "Now I'll feel responsible forever if something happens."

"No, you won't. If anything happens, neither of us will be around to worry about it."

Ed said no more, but guided his floater among the giant rockets. Then he turned his bullhorn on and keyed the microphone. "Now hear this! Aliens must report. I represent our government. I must speak with your leader." Ed repeated the message several times, then turned up the bullhorn power and repeated it several times again.

"So I guess we regroup and try contact with the globes," said Ed, "unless you have another suggestion."

"I do have a suggestion," said Marilee. "All these rockets are standing straight up except for that one over there. It's leaning a little bit. Why don't you give it a little nudge?"

"By gum, it would get their attention if I shook it a little bit. I'll try it."

Ed raised his floater to full altitude, turned the repeller on high power. Then he aimed his floater at the rocket that was slightly atilt and accelerated toward it. The repeller sent his floater spinning across the desert away from the rocket, making him quite dizzy before the vehicle's computer regained control. When Ed could see straight again, he saw that the rocket was leaning just a bit more than it already had.

"Do you know what?" said Marilee. "I think it's still moving."

Ed stared at it. "I think you're right. It is still moving."

Then as they watched, the huge craft began to lean even more, until a leg buckled under and it toppled completely. The rocket was almost completely over before it struck a second. And then that one toppled another. Within a few minutes, more than two dozen alien rockets had fallen in a crescendo of tortured metal.

"Yes, I do believe we should have their attention," said Marilee.

Ed called Captain Baines on the comphone. "Did you see what just happened?"

"Affirmative," answered Baines.

"Break!" It was Richie Taylor's voice on the comphone.

"Yes. Go ahead," said Ed.

"We have Visitors coming. There's a line of globes heading toward us, slowly. They'll be here within a couple of minutes."

"We're coming back," said Ed. "Don't break rank. Don't fire on them unless threatened."

"Roger," said Baines.

"Who?" asked Marilee. " We don't have anybody named Roger."

Ed chuckled. "Roger means message understood. It's old military radio procedure. Now watch behind us as we leave. Be sure we aren't followed."

"Roger."

The globes reached Ed's troops before he did. When Ed and Marilee were about a kilometer from the troops, they could see the line of globes circling around the floaters. Ed stopped his floater and watched, as Marilee called on the comphone. "Captain Baines! The aliens will have you surrounded."

"I see 'em!" said Baines. "What does General Ed want us to do?"

"Nothing for now," said Ed. "But if we lose contact, you're in charge there. Use your best judgment."

"Roger. Wilco."

"More old-timer jargon, I suppose?" said Marilee.

"I suppose."

The globes quickly covered the floaters with the typical dome formation, and Ed took his floater nearer. Marilee called on the comphone. "Captain Baines! What's going on in there?" There was no response from the captain but static spewed from the comphone speaker. She tried again. Captain Baines! Anybody! Can you hear us?" There was much noise again but still no response from Baines.

"They should be okay as long as they stay inside the floaters," said Ed.

"Yes, we know that from experience, but it's still scary."

Ed turned on the bullhorn and yelled at the aliens. "Now hear this. I demand that you release our personnel! Remove your vehicles at once! I represent our government and I have been ordered to communicate with you. Please send a representative at once! And I repeat: Release our personnel at once!"

There was no action, even no sound from the globes.

"Now what?" asked Marilee.

"Well, I could possibly try to break up the dome with my repeller. That's worked before, but I don't know what kind of response it might provoke, or whether they might try to hurt our troops."

Marilee considered this silently. Then a hole suddenly appeared in the dome as a globe fell out and shattered on the ground. And then globes began to fall from all around the dome. Shards of the globes and splattered aliens lay all around. Then the dome adjusted filling up those holes but making a smaller dome in the process.

"I guess I could try the bullhorn again," said Ed. "But they don't seem to understand."

"Or choose not to. What are you going to do next?"

"I don't know. Maybe I should try the repeller trick again."

Then the odor from the broken domes drifted in on the breeze.

"Sheeoo! That smells awful!" said Marilee. "I don't remember it being that bad before, even when we were in the middle of it all!"

Ed gagged. "I think I'm going to throw up." He raised the floater door so he could lean out but the odor was worse so he quickly closed it. "Wish this floater had an air purifier but they don't put them on the high level models."

"I bet they will after this," said Marilee.

Then more globes came falling out of the dome. "I guess Baines is going to fight his way out," said Ed.

Then while they watched, the globes formed again into a smaller dome and again, Ed's troops shot several globes. The sequence repeated over and over until there weren't enough globes to form a dome around the troops. Then the remaining globes filed away and formed a line facing the floater formation. Each globe hovered atop a pencil﷓thin flame.

Ed grabbed the comphone microphone again. "Captain Baines! What is your status?"

"About to puke," answered Baines, "but otherwise okay. I guess we showed them a thing or two!"

"Yeah, but I don't know what's going to happen next. While they were still in space, we communicated by radio. In English, even. But now, I don't even know what to try!"

Baines had the troops form their floaters in a straight line facing the line of alien globes, and Ed joined them, placing his floater in front of his line and also facing the aliens. Then after a few minutes, one globe moved out a few meters, and its rocket flame gradually disappeared, letting it settle slowly to the ground directly in front of Ed.

"What do you make of this?" asked Ed. "I wonder if it's trying to communicate with us."

"Or is it getting ready to lead a charge?" asked Marilee.

Ed shook his head. "I don't know." Then he keyed the comphone mic switch. "Baines, troops, hold your fire. Let's wait and see what's going on here."

The captain may have tried to answer but they couldn't tell for sure because the comphone erupted again with a loud, long burst of static. "Those things sure do generate a lot of interference," said Ed. "It must be those little rockets making static."

Then a rectangular hole opened in the front globe. Again, it was so dark they couldn't see what was in the globe. "You can bet I'm not going to go check it out," said Ed. "I've had enough of riding in one of those things."

Then after a few more minutes, an alien began to emerge from that globe. First came the gelatinous mass that landed in a quivering heap a meter in front of the globe, and then the slender alien came out and leaped into the middle of the blob. The alien slowly soaked up all of the goopy alien body substance. For all of them except Ed and Marilee, it was the first time they had ever seen an alien getting itself all together in its complete ugly condition.

"Maybe it wants to talk. I've got to see," said Ed. Then he keyed the microphone. "Captain Baines, do you read me?"

"Roger."

"Baines, I'm going to try for contact again. I'm going out there to talk. If anything happens to me, you take over."

"Roger. Be careful, Boss."

Ed let his floater down on autohover, raised the door, and stepped out. The alien was still some 100 meters away but approaching in it's rippling, sloshing fashion. Ed started walking toward the alien and had gone several meters before he noticed Marilee was following a couple of steps behind him. "What the devil are you doing? Get back in there!"

"No way, Chief. You're not going alone."

"That's insubordination!"

"Yes, it is. But if you fire me for it, I'll be a civilian again and I won't have to do anything you say. Besides, I'm armed and you're not."

"Armed?" Ed looked around and saw that she was brandishing a laser pistol.

"It's got an ion trailer," she said. "It packs a punch."

"Where did you get that? Oh, never mind. Don't use it unless you're attacked."

When they were only a few meters away from the alien, Marilee cried out. "Oh my! That hurts!"

"What hurts?"

"The noise! Can't you hear it?"

Ed shook his head. "I guess not. I don't hear so well."

"If you don't mind, I'm going to stay back a way. That chirping is killing me!"

"I don't mind. I wanted you to stay way back anyway. Like in the floater."

The alien was sloshing very near when Ed called out. "Greetings. I am Ed Halloran, representative of our government. Are you the leader?"

The alien stopped moving when Ed spoke. Then it started again but moving a different direction for a couple of meters. After wandering somewhat aimlessly for a bit, the alien seemed to get back on track and was again headed for Ed. "Greetings!" said Ed. "I am Ed Halloran and I wish to speak to your leader. Are you the leader?"

The alien again started sloshing aimlessly about for a bit, then seemed to get its bearings again and started sloshing toward Ed. This time, Ed decided not to speak until the alien stood next to him. In another minute, the alien stood (probably) facing Ed.

"Greetings. I am Ed Halloran, representative of the United States of America, upon whose portion of the earth's surface you have landed. My government welcomes you in peace."

The alien stood perfectly still, and Ed stared. It was certainly the most repulsive creature he had ever seen. The mottled skin wasn't any particular color that he could identify, and goo oozed from what looked like pores all over and trickled down the alien's body. Then Ed noticed what looked like two sets of lips, one set on either side of its body about two third of the way up. This alien was not quite two meters tall and it was about 75 centimeters across. Then one set of lips bulged slightly before parting, and a long slender arm (Ed supposed it was an arm) came out of the lips and extended toward Ed. The end of the arm unfurled into three slender fingers.

Ed thought, it wants to shake my hand! He offered his and the alien took hold of Ed's hand. The alien's fingers caused a burning sensation where they touched Ed's hand and he tried to jerk it away but could not. The alien held him tightly.

Ed gasped. "You're hurting me! Please release me!"

But the alien retained its grip and slowly began to pull Ed's hand toward the alien's body. Just then there was a loud zipping sound and a blinding flash of light, and when Ed could see again, the alien lay quivering in the sand. A large charred hole in its side was pouring the gooey alien insides onto the ground. It took him a minute to realize that Marilee had shot it with the laser gun!

As Ed stood shaking, the line of alien globes began to leave single file toward the rocket fleet. Nobody in Ed's group tried to stop them.

"Are you okay?" asked Marilee.

"I'm not doing too well," said Ed. "First, my hand is burning like the dickens, and now this alien you shot stinks to high heaven. The smell of a dead alien has to be the worst weapon they've got. Nobody will want to hurt one if they can help it!"

"Yes. But at least the noise is stopped. That was about to drive me buggy."

Captain Baines took his floater out and joined Ed and Marilee as they walked back toward their vehicle. He got out and walked with them, sending his partner back to the formation with the floater.

"What next, General?" asked Baines.

"I want surveillance outposts set up, and I want squads patrolling twenty﷓four hours a day so no aliens can leave the area without us knowing it. Then I have to report back to the President on all this," said Ed.

"You also have to brief Ms. Sisk on what's happening," said Marilee.

"Yes, but thank God I don't have to answer to Arlene. And that's going to drive her insane!"

### 16

May 17, 2112

"No, Ms. President. I'd say things are definitely not going well. You have my written report coming over the wire but basically what it says is that we have been attacked in one way or another every time we have attempted to make contact with the aliens."

The president appeared more imposing as she looked down from the large wallscreen than she did in person. "I had hoped for better news, but I didn't really expect it—especially not after monitoring the reports from most of the other landing sites, and from the burial crews we sent to the toxic fume zone."

"That sounds like information I need access to."

"You'll have it all over the wire very soon. You would have had it already but most of it is just coming in. As far as I'm concerned, it's very frightening. I'm sure it's the worst peril the world has ever seen."

"Can you fill me in on the high points, Ms. President?"

"Yes, certainly. Where shall I start, Mr. Halloran? Perhaps with the European reports, I suppose," said the president. "What we get from the European states is similar to what you've already found. They have three different state groups trying to contact aliens with absolutely no success. What they've experienced is that some of their representatives seem to have been captured, as you were, but they haven't managed to escape."

"That's about what I expected. But you mentioned something about the burial crews?"

"Yes, and this is horrible. The crews have been working starting from the north where there were more deaths in the toxic cloud zone, and now they've worked all the way down to around 300 kilometers from the landing site." President Litton seemed to choke on the words. "They aren't finding complete bodies down there."

"Huh? What do you mean? How...?"

"What they're finding are skeletons—not decomposed bodies, just the bones."

"Uh, how do they account for that?"

"They don't know how to account for it, but I'm sure you'll get the same picture I do if you think about it."

"That's sickening. Does AABC know about this yet?"

"Soon. I'm having all these reports wired to Ms. Sisk. I'll also furnish her with a copy of your report if you don't mind."

"Thanks. I wasn't anxious to brief her myself. We get along about as well as fire and terpenol, if you know what I mean."

"What are your recommendations Mr. Halloran?"

"First, we need more people down here—soldiers, not bureaucrats. There's no telling how many aliens are here, but they definitely aren't friendly, and we don't have enough people to guard the whole zone effectively. We also need weapons for the troops."

"I'm ahead of you on the personnel. I've appointed Everett Lane to head this up, at his suggestion. He's starting a militia program, and he's setting up procedures for screening volunteers at this very minute. But weapons will be a little tougher."

"I thought so," said Ed. "I always thought it was a mistake to close down all the gun factories"

"Anyway, I'm doing what I can there, too," said Litton. "Weapons technology still exists and I already have people pulling old drawings out of the archives."

* * *

It was already late afternoon when Ed called most of the troops back to the Kingman training area for briefing. They were given a synopsis of all the reports Ed had received so they would know what they were up against, before returning to the field of operations.

"For the present," he told the somber group, "we will force no further confrontations until we have more people and weapons. What we will do is keep the patrols going, night and day, so we can know what they're doing. We won't fight them unless we have to, but we must know where they're going and what they're doing."

Then a roaring noise interrupted the briefing and Richie Taylor craned his neck to see. "What on Earth? Aliens?"

"No," said Ed. "That's the veeto plane Tilson brought from Northeast. I have no idea what it's doing here."

Briefing stopped and the troops all turned to watch as the ungainly craft came to rest in the open area behind them. When the jets stopped raising clouds of sand, the hatch opened and a stair extended slowly to the ground. Then out came Everett Lane, followed by a uniformed young woman who must have been the veeto pilot.

"What are you doing in that?" asked Ed. "Don't you know how much fuel that thing uses?"

"Of course I do! I also know it's an improvement over floaters for surveillance!"

Ed considered that as the troops gawked. "Yes. I believe it definitely is!" He turned back to the troops. "Captain Baines!"

Baines stepped out. "Yes sir."

"Take charge of the company. Marilee—I mean Lieutenant Sharp—and I are going on patrol. I'd like you to take about six floaters and follow us, in case we need some action."

"Yes sir." Baines was already selecting troops for his patrol, and pointing them to their floaters.

Ed and Marilee joined Lane and the pilot, whom Lane introduced as Lynette Searles, and took their seats in the aircraft. When Searles started the engines, the whine filled the cabin, so much that they almost couldn't talk, but Lane yelled, "It gets a little quieter when we're in the air."

The craft lifted straight up off the ground amid swirling clouds of dust, then leveled off and gradually picked up speed.

"Where would you like to go, sir?" asked Searles.

It was a minute before Ed realized she was talking to him. "Uh... How about toward the rockets? Can you fly a few kilometers north of Highway Forty, and keep those floaters in sight?"

"I can do that, yes. But I thought you might want to go a bit faster than the floaters. That's the whole advantage of having an aircraft."

"Yes, of course. Why don't you take it pretty fast to Needles and then slow down where we can get a good look."

"As you wish, sir."

Ed felt the craft's acceleration push him back in his seat, just like in a new high powered floater, except that it kept on accelerating until the ground below sped under them in a blur.

Shortly, the veeto craft was circling the huge rocket fleet. The rockets were spectacular from ground level, but here at several hundred meters in the air, the sight was humbling. They were flying at an altitude no more than half the height of the rockets.

Lane gawked as pilot Searles guided the veeto through the tall rockets. "My God! How many aliens must there be?"

"It's hard to say," said Ed, "but I think there must be millions—just at this landing site. There are probably as many at all the other sites, too."

Then Searles noticed the fallen ships. "It appears there's been a major accident. A lot of the rockets have fallen over."

"That was no accident," said Ed. "I did that on purpose."

Searles took that without comment but Lane wondered, "Is that wise, Ed? Without their ships, they'll not ever be able to leave."

"Nobody ever said the aliens planned to leave," said Marilee. "AABC has always maintained that we should make them welcome."

"What's that on the ground?" asked Searles, suddenly.

"What? I don't see anything," said Ed.

"The discoloration. The ground is a lot darker around those space ships that are fallen."

"Rocket fuel! We'd better get away from here fast! The veeto exhaust could ignite the fumes!" said Ed.

"Okay!" Searles turned the veeto sharply and sped away through the shortest path out of the rocket fleet. "Now where?"

"North. Maybe northeast a bit. Can you swing it around some where we can look over a wider area?" Then Ed turned to Marilee. "You keep in contact with Baines on the comphone. Don't let him get too close to the fleet, with all that fuel on the ground."

Searles flew the aircraft in a pattern of large arcs that went from due east to due north of the rocket fleet. When they were about 100 kilometers north of the alien fleet, they passed over a small town along State Road 936. At first it looked deserted, but then Marilee saw something. "Look! All around that apartment building—I think I see globes!"

Ed peered where she pointed. There were indeed alien globes all around the building, almost like shrubbery. Then he saw many more around some of the houses that were nearby. "Can you slow down and take it lower? I'd like to have a look down there."

Searles slowed the veeto to a seeming crawl, then had to turn the jets almost vertical to keep it in the air. The whining sound immediately filled the cabinet again. "Just wave if you'd like to go back up or pick up speed, sir," yelled pilot Searles. Ed nodded. "Or if you'd like to talk, just press the blue button in front of you."

"What does that do?" asked Ed. Then he realized nobody had been able to hear what he said. He pushed the button and yelled, "What does this do?" Everyone jumped when Ed yelled, and then he noticed that the sound had gone away.

"It's noise cancellation," said Searles. "It takes a lot of energy, so it only stays on for a few seconds. You'll have to activate it about every time you speak, but you shouldn't use it very much."

Sure enough, the sound came back almost immediately.

Marilee was staring at the globes below. After a while she pushed the noise cancellation button and said, "There's something different here, Ed. All these globes are parked. They're resting on the ground, with no visible rocket flame."

"That's right," said Lane. "But all those on the outer perimeter are operating."

"I'll bet those are guards," said Ed. "Probably all these others are parked, and the aliens have gone inside the buildings."

"What are they doing in there?" asked Searles.

Then the noise came back and Ed had to push the button again. "You don't really want to know."

"What are we going to do?" asked Marilee.

"I'm not real sure," said Ed, "but I think we should land the plane and check this out a little further."

"I can land in that opening," said Searles, looking back at Ed, who nodded in agreement.

When she had landed the craft, Ed said, "I'm taking Lt. Sharp with me. You and Lane ought to stay here and keep the engines running." Turning to Marilee, he asked, "You still have that laser gun, don't you?"

"Right here. I wouldn't go anywhere without it."

Ed and Marilee stepped outside the veeto and looked around. The houses here were much like anywhere else in California, from medium to slightly large and painted in many different soft shades. Lawns were all neatly trimmed and low repeller rails lined the residential streets. Playground equipment was arranged around the outer part of the neat little park where they had landed. One could picture children playing on the swings and teeter-totters, and even playing baseball here, if the veeto craft had not landed right atop the pitcher's mound. But this town was eerily silent.

Then it struck Ed that the globes seemed almost a natural part of this picture! The shiny metallic globes were lined up around some of the houses like shrubbery, almost artistically. Ed motioned to Marilee who followed him toward the nearest house where there were alien craft. "Be prepared," he said. "What we find here may be ghastly."

As they came near to the front yard of the first house, Marilee suddenly covered her ears with her hands. "Oh! Oh my, but that hurts!"

"What? What hurts?" Then Ed remembered that Marilee had heard a strange high-pitched noise around the alien before, when he could not. He looked around behind them and saw three aliens approaching, in their rippling, sloshing manner. Ed gagged. "The sound may bother you but it's the smell that gets me!"

"Eww! That, too!" said Marilee.

They watched as the aliens approached. The way they traveled across the ground made Ed wonder how they would get past the repeller rail. It was only about 40 centimeters high but the aliens never lost contact with the ground as they sloshed and wiggled along. Then one alien came in contact with the rail. It stopped for a moment before the gelatinous goo began to flow from an opening near the alien's base. The goo poured out into one big quivering mass, part of which oozed under the rail. Then the thin skeletal part of the alien bounded over the rail, at first completely away from the blob, which had gone under the rail, but then it inched its way back until it touched. As they watched, the alien completely absorbed the mass until it had filled out to its former size. Before it had finished its arduous method of crossing the rail, the other two aliens had reached the fence and started the process.

Marilee still had her hands over her ears, but she watched wide-eyed as the aliens crossed the rail. "If you ever want to slow them down, I think I know how now."

Then the aliens were within 50 meters of them. "From now on, the most important army-issue equipment is ear plugs!" she said.

"Nope! No way!" said Ed in a nasal twang because he held his nose. "It has to be nose plugs!"

"Yeah. Definitely nose plugs!" said Marilee.

"Did you notice that when we aren't talking, the aliens seem to come straight toward us, but when we speak they wander around like they're lost?"

"That's right!"

"Let's try something. Let's go over there by the walk and keep talking for a while. See if they can find us."

"Okay," said Marilee. "But talk about what? I can never think of anything to say when I try to."

"Anything. Talk about Arlene Sisk. Or recite the alphabet or count or something."

"Okay. A is for Apple. B is for balloon. C is for cat. D is for..."

"That's enough already! They're already confused. Now let's be very quiet."

While Ed and Marilee were talking, the aliens had gone off in different directions. But when they were silent, the aliens began to converge on them again. "The sound you hear is sonar," said Ed. "They can't see! They navigate like bats!"

"But if they use sound to see, how do they talk? How do they communicate with each other?"

"That's a good question. Maybe they both see and communicate with sound."

"I don't think so," said Marilee. Otherwise, they would always confuse each other when they talk."

"What really gets me is that they spoke English when they were still in space. So why do they seem unable to communicate now?"

Marilee touched Ed's shoulder and pointed behind him. "There are more of them now, and they don't all seem confused."

Ed looked around and saw that it was true. Perhaps three dozen aliens had converged and now all of them, including the first three, seemed to know exactly where Ed and Marilee stood.

"Oh!" said Marilee. "What are they going to do? What are we going to do?"

"I don't know, on either count. Maybe we're going to make contact now, but I don't like being surrounded. Keep your weapon ready."

Aliens soon surrounded the frightened AABC agents. Ed estimated 35 to 40 aliens stood about a meter apart in a perfect circle. There was no way out, but at least, the aliens didn't seem to be coming any closer.

"I wish we'd waited for Captain Baines and the patrol," said Marilee. "With some help, we'd have a chance."

"But maybe this is our chance," said Ed. "Maybe this time they came to talk." Ed started walking toward the aliens and held up his hands. "Greetings, Visitors. I am Ed Halloran, representative of the government of the United States of America on whose portion of the Earth's surface you have landed. I must speak with your leader."

The alien directly in front of Ed quivered slightly. Then a thin arm with three fingers came slowly out of slits in either side of the alien's body. One thin arm extended toward Ed as if to offer a handshake.

"No, I'm sorry I can't take your hand," said Ed. "But we still come to you in peace and desire to speak with your leader. Are you the leader?"

Then all the aliens extended skeletony arms toward them and began to tighten the circle around them, moving much faster than Ed had ever seen them move before. Ed turned completely around. The aliens were closing in and more were coming from two directions. Then he heard a rapid zipping sound and saw flashes of light. He spun and saw that Marilee had shot several aliens with the laser gun. About six or eight of them lay on the grass, with their body substances running out and little trails of smoke rising into the sky.

"This way!" she yelled. Marilee ran toward the new opening and leaped over the dead or dying aliens.

Ed followed without hesitation. But when he tried to jump over the aliens' bodies, his elderly body couldn't quite make it. One foot hit at the edge of the globby substance that was spreading across the ground, and the foot slipped out from under him, dropping him on his backside into the goo. He could almost have suffocated from the smell just then, and possibly would have if Marilee hadn't run back to grab his hand and pull him up and away. "Hurry!" she screamed, as she tugged at his arm."

"You should have gone on!" he said. But now he was up, and apparently not suffering serious injury, although he wasn't moving very well.

A line of aliens blocked them from going back to the veeto plane, and the remaining aliens that had surrounded them were now following, not very fast but very certainly after them.

"Come this way now," yelled Marilee as she tugged him in a different direction.

"I am not up to this. You go back without me! You could circle around and make it back to the plane!"

"Shut up and hurry!" Marilee was half dragging him along as they went between two houses, both of which were lined outside with the alien globes.

Then they both saw it at the same instant. An alien had a dead human body partially wrapped in folds of its skin. Part of the body was already reduced to bone, and it was obvious the alien was devouring it.

"Oh my God!" cried Marilee. "That vile loathsome creature!" She shot the alien with her laser gun, reducing it to a putrid puddle. Then she shot two more that appeared around the corner of the house.

"Come on," said Ed. "You can't shoot all of them, and it probably doesn't help to shoot any of them anyway."

She looked as if she didn't agree with him, that she wanted to kill any of them she could find.

Then they heard the sound of the veeto plane and saw it rising into the sky. As soon as it was up about 30 meters, it flew directly over them slowly. The plane tipped it wings so that they could see into the cockpit, and Ed saw pilot Searles waving and pointing. "She wants us to go that way," said Ed, and now he was dragging Marilee by the arm. The veeto plane was landing over in the next street. There were no aliens near it, but there were some down the street, and several aliens had followed them between the houses, moving surprisingly fast for the sloshing way they had to travel.

The door of the craft was open when they reached it, and Lane quickly pulled them up and inside. They hardly had closed the door and were not in their seats yet when the veeto was back in the air.

"I thought we were going to lose you back there," said Lane. Then he shuddered and made a face. "Sheeoo! I almost wish we had!"
17

Oct. 12, 2029

Headline: ANOTHER SPACE MESSAGE RECEIVED! MAYBE

Dateline﷓Washington, D.C.

Lawrence Jantzen, Undersecretary of State in the Rogers administration and chairman of the Extra-Terrestrial Communications Commission (ETCC), announced a change in the format of messages received at the Arecibo, P.R. Institute for Astronomical Observation. According to Jantzen, the group of scientists he has assembled to evaluate the signals believe this change is in response to messages transmitted back to space from Arecibo starting almost four years ago. Since then, the Arecibo station has transmitted messages daily. Jantzen cautioned that no one is yet able to decode the transmissions, which seem to be in a distinct language that is different from any on Earth.

Evan Saxton, who is a member of ETCC and holds an assistant professorship in mathematics at Bennett University, elaborated on the history of space communications and the commission on which he serves. According to Saxton, the first signals were received from space in 2011 but they were then classified as an unusual form of radio noise. Saxton said that scientists later began to find repetitions and some other definite characteristics that made them believe they may have come across an alien language coming from space, although it wasn't clear if that was a message being sent to us, or was just randomly received by us. However, in 2016 a startling discovery was made at Bennett University when it was learned that the entire complex message started over in an exact repetition every 47 hours and 33 minutes. Virtually all scientists were then convinced that the transmissions were indeed meant to establish contact with us. Then later Bennett University, in conjunction with the institute at Arecibo, transmitted back an exact recording of the message as it had been received, in order to signal to them that we had received it, even though we hadn't interpreted a bit of it. Four and a half years later, in late 2025, the message coming back from space abruptly changed. The second message was only three hours and five minutes long, but it was comprised of all the same elements present in the longer message initially received. Saxton says scientists recognized that change as a response to our transmission, and believe that this constituted the first two﷓way communication through space between two civilizations. The latest message is believed to be just over seven hours long, although it will be some time before the entire message can be recorded and analyzed because only a short segment can be received while the antenna at Arecibo is in the proper position.

According to Saxton, the first message received led to the formation of the Extra-Terrestrial Communications Commission that has coordinated the space communication effort. Lawrence Jantzen organized ETCC at President Kermit Rogers' direction for the purpose of establishing ongoing communication with the distant civilization. Jantzen noted this was a long-term goal that would require support from future administrations as well as the president. However, he says that President Rogers believes this program, much like the nation's first lunar travel program, deserves bipartisan support, even though some future president may get credit for the breakthroughs that have come as the result of his administration's efforts.

ETCC is comprised of two main subcommittees, both reporting to Chairman Jantzen. Evan Saxton heads the technical subcommittee and Helen Norden leads the group responsible for designing the actual communications that are being transmitted. "The technical aspect of our task is clearly the easiest to achieve," said Norden. "After all, the technology already exists to send and receive the messages across space. But according to Norden, the larger task—and undeniably the most important—is the composition of the messages that we send. It is ETCC's belief—and we are virtually unanimous in this—that we must tell them truthfully about ourselves, that we must not be self-serving, and that we must not omit any major facet of human existence. Then in turn, we can expect to be enlightened by them. That is, when we've learned to translate their language."

When questioned further, Norden said that although there were many linguists employed by her staff, none had managed to break even a small portion of the transmissions. Still, she said the nature of the transmissions had already given them a basic knowledge of the nature of the aliens, and that a profile was being prepared for publication later in the month. "In all actuality, the language will probably first be translated by supercomputers. However, it will be up to my subcommittee to interpret and analyze when that happens," she said.

Henry J. Halloran is another member of the commission on the technical subcommittee. Halloran explained that scientists do not yet have an exact fix on the aliens' location. Because of the relatively long wavelength of the transmissions (compared to visible light), the usual triangulation techniques for establishing distance have insufficient resolution in this case. However, since the antenna at Arecibo has very sharp focus, the direction from our solar system is known with a great degree of accuracy. The problem, he notes, is that there are no detectable stars within many light-years of our solar system in that direction, but the apparent distance is only slightly under two light-years. (A light-year is the distance over which light would travel in a year. This is actually a relatively short distance, astronomically speaking, since the known stars nearest our sun are about four light-years away.) Halloran said that scientists initially believed the aliens' distance to be two and a fourth light-years since the first response took four and a half years. However, the next response took just under four years, so astronomers have decided that the actual distance is slightly less than two light years, and the original discrepancy was likely due to the aliens taking some considerable time to develop their response to our transmission. He did caution that would mean the aliens could be somewhat nearer than that, if they had taken even longer to compose this last message.

Lawrence Jantzen, chairman of ETCC, has promised a comprehensive report on the commission's findings.

### 18

March 14, 2030

"We have an exciting new development at ETCC, Mr. President!" Lawrence Jantzen smiled broadly, and then hesitated while he searched for the grand phrases he'd rehearsed for the occasion. "This is an unprecedented breakthrough in human endeavor, an epochal event in the history of the universe! This is..."

"Jantzen! We're not on TV," said President Rogers. "Cut through it and get to the point."

"Very well, Mr. President. I will get to the point. We have interpreted that last space message!"

Rogers settled back in his chair as he thought about Jantzen's announcement. "I hope you're not putting me on. If this is anything like the alien psychological profiles that Norden dame keeps coming up with, I'll deny any connection with it or you. That phony psycho report made asses of all of us, except maybe for Saxon and a couple of his colleagues. Why didn't you tell me that business was fabricated out of thin air?"

"Mr. President, I am truly sorry about how that turned out. Of course we all knew that Ms. Norden was very political, as are a couple of others on her subcommittee. But we didn't expect her to start publishing all those profiles that made aliens out to be exactly what she wanted them to be."

"I expected you to be on top of it, Jantzen."

"Quite right, sir. I should have been, and I take full responsibility for it. If you wish, I will dismiss Norden immediately."

"No. I'm afraid we can't do that." Rogers sighed, and leaned his elbows on the huge walnut desk, looking very tired. "Norden has attracted a following. Regardless of her goofy ideas, she has become the darling of the new liberal class. If we got rid of her, I wouldn't last the rest of my term."

Evan Saxon felt ill-at-ease in the Oval Office, even as he considered how weak President Kermit Rogers seemed. The massive desk made the president look small and more comical than powerful. But, Evan mused, this was the president of the greatest nation on Earth. He spoke up anyway. "Mr. President, I think this latest news will counter any bad press from Norden's group."

"Yes?" Rogers only then seemed to be aware of Saxon's presence in the room. "Maybe you'll tell me what this is all about, since Jantzen won't get to the point. What did the aliens have to say?"

"We didn't exactly interpret anything they said. We still haven't broken the language," said Evan. "But what we have is similar to sign language, much like the pictures we've transmitted to them."

Rogers winced, then waved impatiently. "Yes? Go on."

"The last transmission had all he same elements as the first two, but they seemed to be arranged in some different sort of format, with a lot of repetitions in it. Anyway, we suspected it could have been something other than speech patterns so we had the computers looking at it from some different angles. What the computers came up with was a three-dimensional model of space. Or at least our corner of space."

"They sent a picture of space?" Rogers' face took on a worried look again. "How can you have a picture of space?"

"Not space, exactly," said Evan. "It's a three-dimensional raster with all the nearest solar systems held in proper perspective, including our own sun and the nearest star called Alpha Centauri."

"Why would they send that, do you think?"

"To show us where they are, obviously. There is an object in the model—a blip, you might say—which undoubtedly marks their position relative to the astronomical bodies. It's just under two light-years away, which is much nearer than Alpha Centauri at 4.2 and it's about 5 degrees south-southeast as you would view it from the sky. We didn't know there was anything in that part of space until now, and we still can't see it, even with the most powerful telescopes."

"That would make you think there might be quite a lot of real estate out there we haven't found yet, wouldn't it?" asked Rogers.

"Absolutely. And there are new discoveries being made almost every day. Some of it is important and some of it is just odd chunks of rock and ice, which is important too, in a way."

"So what do you think it means to us? What should we do about it?" asked the president.

"It means opportunity, Mr. President!" Jantzen stood up to regain his control of the meeting. "If we play this right, we can knock the props out from under the Democrats. True two-way communication with aliens is the most astounding news in years! And we did it ourselves, under the leadership of your administration. And I'll tell you something else, sir: since the technical subcommittee did this, it also gives us the perfect opportunity to get Norden and Washington out of our hair. I'll disband that subcommittee immediately!"

"You'll do nothing of the sort," said Rogers. "Just try to keep her noise level down. Anything more will cost us in the liberal wing of congress, Democrats and Republicans alike."

"Does that mean I still have to keep Norden updated on everything we do?" asked Saxon.

"I'm afraid so. But use your best judgment in what you tell her, so you don't encourage any more psycho-babble profiles."

"I quite understand, sir."

* * *

Saxon, Halloran, and Philips watched the newscast from a set in Saxon's office at the university. A youngish reporter with perfect hair and complexion interviewed Helen Norden. But they were more curious about the reporter than about what Norden had to say. Halloran stared at the TV screen. "What would you say? Is that reporter male or female?"

"I can't tell," said Philips. "The way he or she is dressed kind of hides it and you sure can't tell from the voice. But I think the face probably looks feminine."

"What ever happened to the good old days?" asked Halloran. "I liked it better when the men looked like men and the women looked like women."

Saxon frowned at the TV screen. "Yeah. Me too. But right now I'm trying to hear what the old dame has to say."

"So then, you're proposing a change in the organization at ETCC?" asked the reporter.

"That's right," said Norden. She smiled and adjusted her pose for the camera. "It has become painfully obvious that the two-part commission just isn't working. What we need is a better reporting scheme, so that we remain focused on our primary objectives—and also that the technical people will be motivated better. Their lack of accomplishment is appalling when you consider the resources they've gone through!"

"But isn't it generally considered that you can't buy scientific breakthroughs? Aren't they usually the result of tedious effort?" The reporter smiled for the camera this time.

"Effort! Yes, that's the key!" said Norden. "If you think about what we've accomplished, you get that picture! Even without solid support from the technical subcommittee, we've managed to learn much about the aliens. But we have gleaned so much from so little input! Just think what we could accomplish if the technicians reported directly to me. That would be motivation!"

The men stared at the TV screen. "You don't think... " Halloran didn't finish the question.

"No," said Saxon. "Rogers would never let that happen. He's onto the old girl. He knows she's a fraud."

"Yeah, I believe that," said Philips. "But Rogers only has a few months left before he's out, and who knows who's going to win in November!"

Halloran just shook his head for a minute. Then he spoke. "Maybe we have to get out of this. If we all resigned, there would be nothing to keep us from working together privately, is there? Maybe you could get us on at the university."

"That's an idea," said Saxon. The interview was over so he turned the television off. "I was already working on this at the university before this commission business got started."

"But you were working with federal grants, weren't you?" asked Philips. "What's to keep them from cutting off the funds? Whoever pays, controls, you know."

"That's a valid point," said Saxon. "Right now, though, I'd recommend no action at all. Maybe Norden is just making noise and nothing will come of it, and we don't know what will happen in November.

### 19

June 5, 2112

Reports were coming in to Kingman headquarters from all over the world. From the landing site in the European Federation came word that a few of the agents who had been captured had escaped and that the European states now were unanimous in considering aliens as enemies. They were not in agreement, however, as they considered plans to deal with the aliens.

There were different reports from Australia and Siberia. The aliens had landed in the Australian outback and were far from population centers. Moreover, the rugged land seemed to keep the aliens confined to the area where their rocket fleet stood. Still, the presence of the alien fleet frightened most Australians and concerned the Australian government greatly. According to unnamed sources in the government, Australia would likely start on a campaign of rearmament.

The situation was somewhat different in Siberia. The aliens had been sighted leaving their rocket ships and had spread over a fairly large area, including two major cities that had fallen victim to the cloud of toxic fumes at the landing. However, the famine and fierce Siberian sandstorms had driven the aliens back inside their rockets. Surviving Siberians were asking for assistance from the rest of the world in dealing with the alien presence.

"So, does any of that change our mission in any way?" asked Marilee.

"No. It does confirm our decision to treat this in a military fashion," said Ed.

Then a uniformed young man entered the room. "Beg your pardon, sir. There's a call from the president for you."

"Private?"

"Yes sir. I'm Private Brady."

"No, no. That's not what I mean. Is it a private call?"

"I don't think so, sir, but they didn't say."

"That's fine, then. I'll take the call in the conference room and Lt. Sharp will join me. Also, I'd like you to get Everett Lane in there."

"Yes sir!" The young soldier trotted off to find Lane, and Ed and Marilee went to the conference room. Lane met them at the door.

Inside the room, they sat at one side of the conference table, facing the wallscreen. Ed switched it on, and President Litton, larger than life, looked down at them. "Good morning, Ms. President," said Ed. "Everett Lane and Lt. Sharp are present here, too. Is that okay?"

"Good morning, Ed. And good morning to Everett and Lt. Sharp. You're quite welcome to stay for the call. I want to make this brief, but there are a couple of things to cover.

"First, I'd like to fill you in on rearmament. The program is going faster than we'd originally expected. It seems there was a large quantity of weapons stored that were supposed to have been destroyed after the Government-of-Nations treaty was ratified. We have learned that some of our old generals and admirals just didn't trust GON."

"That's great, Ms. President!" said Ed. "Lane just about has the army recruitment plan working. We'll be ready for battle before you know it!"

"I wish that were true but I'm not so sure," said Litton. "There are problems developing—domestic problems, I'm talking about."

"Uh, what kind of domestic problems, Ms. President?"

"Protests. Lack of public support. That sort of thing."

"You're kidding! In the midst of the greatest threat the world has ever seen, there are protests! About what?"

"I wouldn't joke about such a serious subject. Your former colleague at AABC, Arlene Sisk, has started a campaign to protest our handling of alien contact. She has a fairly sizable following convinced that the aliens are poor frightened immigrants who came in peace and were met with aggression. There were protest rallies in just about every major city yesterday, and more are starting today. Tilson is in on it, too."

"But... She reports to you, Ms. President! Why don't you just order her to stop?"

"I could do that, and I probably will. But I've been a politician a long time, Ed. I know when a problem is not going to go away, and this is one of those times. But just remember that nothing changes your mission. I'm still president and you still lead the army and we have to do what we have to do. Just be aware that we don't have all that much support and we probably won't get good press."

"I'll remember that. Now how soon can we have some weapons out here?"

"They're being loaded today, mostly laser guns and that sort of thing. Small weapons were easier to hide, you know."

Everett Lane broke into the conversation. "Everett Lane here, Ms. President. I have an idea, if you'd like to hear it."

"Certainly, Lane. Go right ahead."

"I think if Sisk and Tilson were down here, we might be able to talk some sense into them. I think if they had a little more direct contact with the aliens, they'd realize what we're up against."

"Hmm. That's an interesting thought, Lane. What do you think, Ed?"

"Tilson maybe, but let's leave Arlene Sisk out of it. I'd hate to see her get hurt."

"Why, Ed Halloran!" President Litton's face broke into a smile. "Somebody told me you were sweet on Ms. Sisk! And it's true!"

"No, no, no! That's not it at all!" Ed felt his face getting warm. "It's just that we don't get along at all and she'd do something dangerous just to spite me! You know what I mean!"

"Indeed!" Litton was still smiling when her face faded from the wallscreen.

Ed turned to Lane. "That was a bad idea. That was a very bad idea!"

"Sorry," said Lane.

* * *

Later, in the afternoon, Marilee reported to Ed that trucks were arriving, so they went out to see. And sure enough, there were a half a dozen old style wheeled trucks coming through the gate. "Great! We must have got a pretty large load!" said Ed. "They couldn't carry them on floater transports."

Soon, troops were unloading crates and stacking them into the unused office rooms of the headquarters building. Ed and Marilee opened some of the crates. The first held laser pistols, much like the one Marilee already had, and more crates held shoulder fired laser guns, that looked quite like the rifles in the old movies. "Those are for firing longer distances," said Ed. "You can hold them steadier than you can a pistol, and this gadget on the top is a telescope sight. It works on either visible light or infrared, whichever you set the switch for."

Marilee was impressed.

* * *

Several more loads of weapons showed up at Kingman over the next few days. Most were like the first weapons that had arrived. Then came the troops. Several hundred young recruits, along with a few very old former officers and NCO's—the newly reformed United States Army.

Captain Baines was promoted to major (he assured Ed that major was the next rank up) and Baines was given command of the recruits. The old soldier selected several other officers of approximately equal age to lead the companies and Camp Kingman soon looked like a military base of old, with drills and formations and orders barked everywhere.

Ed (Col. Halloran) and Lt. Sharp reviewed the training progress each day, noting carefully each day's improvement. Of course, it had been so long since the nation had a standing army that one could not be quite sure what grade to award the trainees. There was no recent standard for comparison and, even if there had been, only Ed, Marilee, and the first few old soldiers had any experience with the aliens.

"But I think it's exciting anyway," said Marilee. "There's real progress every day, and I think we're about ready to see some action. Don't you?"

"We can't be sure," said Ed. "We could hope it won't come to action, but I'm afraid there's no other way."

Then Private Brady came with a message from Major Baines. "There are visitors for you, sir. Just arrived from Washington."

"Visitors? I wasn't expecting anybody. Do you know who it is?"

"I'm not sure but I think it's some AABC people. Do you know somebody named Sisk and Tilman?"

"Oh, no!"

### 20

June 12, 2112

"This is your fault, Halloran!" Arlene Sisk glowered in the ray of sunlight that poured through the only window in Ed's office. Merrill Tilson stood quietly at her side, staring at the gaunt furnishings of HQ command office.

"It's nice to see you again, Arlene. What precisely is my fault?"

"Do you want the whole list? Or just why I'm here?"

"I take it, it must be my fault you're here. But you'll probably give me the whole list anyway."

"I think I will, when I have time," said Sisk, "but you still won't listen. It's your fault I'm here, you old redneck! You talked the president into ordering me here!"

"That's not true, Arlene. Lane thought you and Tilson ought to come down here and talk to the aliens. I told her she should just send Tilson, because you'd probably get hurt."

Tilson looked up at the mention of his name. "You can't be serious. It's a bit late now, isn't it? After you've already started a war?"

"I'm quite willing for you to talk to them," said Ed. "I'll be happy to provide transportation to their camp, but you'll have to excuse me if I stand back while they eat you alive."

"Ms. Sisk has assured me that they're basically peace-loving and completely non-aggressive, and that they're probably confused by your belligerent actions. She said the only problem will be if I let you attack them while I establish lines of communication."

"Okay, then. I'll take you there and let you handle it. But you can take a comphone just in case you need to be rescued. It's a bit late now, but we'll arrange it for tomorrow morning, and now I'll get somebody to show you to guest quarters."

"Ah... Are you coming with me, Ms. Sisk?" asked Tilson.

"The president ordered it," said Sisk.

"Not a good idea!" said Ed. "That is not a good idea at all!"

* * *

At mid-morning Ed had the group assembled by the veto craft. Marilee Sharp was already in the plane and Lynette Searles was in the cockpit, and just finishing pre-flight checks when the others arrived.

Tilson entered the craft first, followed by Sisk. Then Ed pulled the door shut behind them and latched it. "You have a plan, I take it?"

"Of course. You take us to meet the Visitors and then Tilson and I will speak with them. We'll use sign language if we have to."

Ed nodded. "If you think so." Then to the pilot, he said, "We'll be going to Desertview. That's the little town where we found the aliens last."

"Visitors! You're not to call them aliens. They are our Visitors," said Sisk. "With your insensitivity, it's no wonder there's a problem communicating!"

"That Visitors crap was all AABC, Arlene. I'm in the army now and it's different."

Then the veeto engines started and the noise stopped their discussion. Ed decided not to tell her about the blue button. Tilson may have known about it since he had used the aircraft many times in his official government capacity, but he didn't seem anxious to chat with Ed anyway.

A few minutes later, the veeto plane was circling Desertview. Searles pointed to a tract of houses at the north end of the small town. Ed pushed the blue button. "Yes. I see the globes. Can you land in that wide street over there?"

"I believe so. I'll give it a try." Searles soon had the craft parked in the middle of the town's main street.

Soon all but the pilot were out of the aircraft and on the street. "I don't see any Visitors. Why did we land here?" asked Sisk.

"They're here and they'll find us—soon," said Ed. "Do you see those globes?"

"Globes? Where?" asked Tilson.

"Lined up around the houses. They're all around us."

"Oh my! Yes, I see them now. They're arranged so neatly they almost look as if they belong, like shrubbery," said Tilson.

"Where there are globes, there are aliens. They may not be willing to venture too near the veeto plane," said Ed. "Let's walk away from it and see. Except for you, Marilee. I want you to stay at the plane in case something happens so you can get word to Lane and Major Baines."

"If you insist," said Marilee, although she looked for a moment as if she might refuse the order.

They walked about two hundred meters away from the airplane, and Ed said, "This is probably far enough."

"Maybe it is," said Sisk, "but this isn't a good place to meet. The smell is awful here! I think there must be something dead around here."

"That has to be the aliens," said Ed. "I'm sure most of the corpses are probably gone by now."

"Corpses? What corpses? Gone where?" Tilson's face reflected pure horror when he realized what Ed was talking about.

"The smell is definitely getting worse," said Sisk. "Let's go somewhere else."

"My ears are hurting," said Tilson. He held both hands clapped over his ears. "We've got to get away from this noise!"

Arlene Sisk made a face and turned to speak to Tilson. "Noise! You're..." Then she saw them. "Oh good Lord! Is that the Visitors, Ed? What has happened to them?"

Ed looked and saw a line of aliens filing quietly from between two nearby houses. The aliens were lining up so they would block Ed and company from their aircraft. "They're trying to cut us off!" said Ed. "Hurry! We can make it back to the plane!"

Tilson started jogging back, but Sisk yelled, "Come back here! We're just going to talk to these poor creatures! There's not going to be a fight!"

Tilson stopped, but only when he saw he could not escape back to the plane. Then he returned to stand beside Ed and Ms. Sisk. They watched as the first aliens reached the repeller rail at the side of the street. "Oh, the way they move, how are they ever going to get over the rail?" she wondered aloud. "Ohh. That is terrible!" she said, as she watched aliens going through the process of separating body goo to flow under the rail before the skeletony part jumped over. Then she just watched with her mouth open as aliens soaked their gooey substance back into their mottled, wrinkled bodies. At length, she said, "I guess we're going to have to put stiles over all the repeller rails for them."

"I think we just have to keep them away from us," said Ed. "There's no way we can ever coexist with these manure piles!"

Ed turned back toward the aircraft and Marilee. He waved his hands and yelled, "Get Major Baines on the comphone! I think we're going to need some help here!"

Marilee turned to the aircraft and yelled something to the pilot who waited at the open door, but Ed could not hear what she said. Then he saw her running toward the line of aliens with her laser pistol drawn. "Don't shoot!" he yelled. "Don't provoke them!" He saw her stop then, about half way between the aliens and the veeto plane.

Arlene Sisk stared at the queue of aliens that was forming a large circle. She turned slowly around, as the circle closed around them, obviously aware that there was no escape. She would certainly make contact with The Visitors then, because there was no way to avoid it.

"Actually, Mr. Halloran, I only wished to speak with one or two of them."

"Well, pick any one or two you wish. I guess it's time to start talking now."

"Visitors, good morning to you!" she yelled. "I bring you greetings from the government of the United States of America, on whose portion of the Earth's surface you have landed. I must speak with your leader."

"That didn't work before," said Ed. "It won't work now."

"What is going to happen to us?" Tilson's chin quivered and his voice trembled as he spoke.

"I'm not sure," said Ed, "but I think we're going to be captured."

They were completely surrounded by the aliens who stood a few centimeters apart in a circle of about 50 meters. Then the circle broke and started forming into a smaller circle with aliens two deep. "I must speak with your leader!" Sisk's voice was raised in a frightened squeal. "Please! Which one of you is the leader?" But the aliens stood deathly still.

"Make them stop the noise, please," begged Tilson. He held his hands tightly over his ears and his face was distorted with pain. "Can't you please make them stop?"

Sisk turned to Ed. "What on Earth is he going on about?"

"The aliens seem to make some kind of high pitched noise," said Ed. "Not everybody can hear it, but it drives the ones who can buggy!"

"Why? What can they accomplish by that?"

"Look real close. Can you see eyes anywhere on them?"

"No. I can't see eyes. I can't even tell if they're looking at us or where."

"They're looking at us for sure. That's what the sound is about, I think," said Ed. "I think they use the sound for navigation, like bats."

"If they use sound to see, then how do they speak?"

"Beats me. As near as I can tell, they don't. At least they haven't so far."

"My Lord!" cried Tilson. "Since they're closer, I don't know which is worse, the smell or the noise!"

"They're just standing there!" said Sisk. "Are they going to capture us or what?"

"I'd say we're already captured, wouldn't you?" asked Ed.

Then the globes came. Alien globes began to collect, forming a wider circle just outside the alien's circle. Then more globes came, until the circle finally had grown into a dome. Despite the desert heat, they stood shivering in the gray﷓green pall that radiated from the globes' surfaces.

Tilson's chin still quivered and tears began to stream down his face. "We're going to die. We're all going to be eaten alive by stinking monsters. What an end! What a miserable end!"

"Shut up, Tilson!" Arlene Sisk's words were loud and sharp, and startled all of them.

Then Tilson said, "The noise—it's stopped!"

"I wonder why," said Ed. "Maybe they don't need to see right now. After all, we sure aren't going anywhere."

Then three globes darted from the formation and came to hover a few centimeters from the ground, one globe in front of each of them. As Ed had seen once before, a dark space appeared on the surface of each globe. Each started small, like a dot, and grew to about 60 centimeters across.

"What's happening, Ed?" asked Sisk.

"They want us in the globes," he said, "but don't do it. Stay completely away and don't touch them!"

But one globe moved up very near to Tilson, who jumped back away from it. It moved once more, and again Tilson jumped away. But then another moved toward Tilson and soon he was caught between two globes and a line of aliens, which he would not touch. Then, suddenly, he was drawn into one of the globes. He was taken in so fast that Ed's lasting impression was the instant that only Tilson's feet stuck out from the globe. And then his feet disappeared too.

"Is this it, Ed?" asked Sisk. "Is it all over now?"

Before Ed could answer, one of the globes moved to Arlene Sisk. She did not jump and dart about, as had Tilson. She stood her ground as the globe came up and nudged against her and then, in an instant, she was swallowed up in the alien machine.

The third globe moved up about twenty centimeters in front of Ed. "Oh well, I guess we all have to go some time," he said, and he reached out and touched the globe.

* * *

Inside the globe was darkness and silence. It was not completely devoid of sensations, though. He reached out and could feel the smooth inner surface of the globe. There was also the overwhelming stench and he seemed to be floating in a thick fluid, but there was more than fluid. It seemed to be teeming with particles of some kind, soft and squishy and unidentifiable of substance. And there was nausea. Ed gagged, and then he was almost certain he had vomited but it was impossible to discern vomit from the fluid in which he sloshed.

His nose burned, and then came the thought of drowning. He was upside down in the fluid and quite unable to do anything about it, so he would drown. Ed wondered just how long it would take to die in the globe, and what would become of his body afterward. Would anybody ever know, or would the mucky monsters simply devour him, leaving no trace for Baines or Marilee to find. For that matter, would anybody survive when the aliens began to spread out and claim the Earth?

And then he thought about Arlene in another of the globes. Was she smothering, too? The first globe that had taken Ed had not contained the fluid, or at least as much of it as this one, so he thought it was possible that Arlene was not drowning. It was entirely possible that Arlene would wish she could drown, because being captured in the alien globe was the lowest depth of misery that Ed could imagine.

Then he remembered Tilson. The fearful bureaucrat probably was near drowning because he most likely lost control of his bladder in the first instant of being jerked into the globe. But even that couldn't be any worse than floating in this vile filth.

The dreams started then. First, Ed dreamed of his childhood. It had been very long ago, but it still seemed so clear. Scenes of times past floated by. Birthday parties. Tag games in the schoolyard. The first dance, with the red-haired girl who reminded him of Arlene, but wasn't Arlene. Listening to Grandpa Hank's long stories. Detention after school for pranks at recess. It was all there—his whole childhood.

It was Grandpa Hank who had gotten Ed started in this business. So many years before that it seemed like forever, Grandpa told him about a new agency being organized, one where a young man might forge a career. "You can get in on the ground floor" was how Grandpa described it. So Ed had taken a civil service test and applied for some ill-defined position at the Alien Anti-Bigotry Commission. He later found out that AABC was organized as the result of dissension in the ranks of ETCC where Ed's grandfather worked. In fact, social activists who could not tolerate the technical specialists in ETCC staffed AABC. Grandpa Hank told him a few days later that he'd get along well at AABC in spite of the likes of Helen Norden and Arnetta Washington because his friend Homer Philips had been named director of the new agency, and Philips was not at all like the others.

Arlene was like the others though. She started to work the same day Ed started, and they both reported to Helen Norden who was very highly placed in the agency. Of course, about fifty other bureaucrats reported to Helen Norden, too. Arlene claimed seniority because her personnel papers were processed first, by about fifteen minutes. Ed didn't see it that way, though.

Arlene was very pretty then. She had a lovely face and flaming red hair, and all the young men at AABC turned to stare at her buxomy figure every time she walked by. Ed had taken Arlene out that first week, and every other single young man in the department was jealous. Even years later, when Ed saw Arlene, he still saw her as he saw her then.

Opposites attract, according to the old saying. And Ed and Arlene certainly turned out to be opposite. Arlene was very much of the social activist mold of her mentor Helen Norden, and Ed was a young version of his Grandpa Hank. But they dated for a couple of years, off and on, until the incident with the report. Then it would not be truthful to say they drifted apart, but their relationship was much too volatile to succeed.

Now it seemed fitting to Ed that the last minutes of their lives were being spent close to each other, but yet out of reach. And in utter misery.

### 21

June 13, 2112

First there was a sliver of green light and that gleam grew to a dazzling force before Ed fell face first on the ground. For a moment he didn't understand what had happened, but then he realized the globe had opened to dump him ignominiously into the desert sand. Ed rolled over and tried to stand but could not, so he sat up and looked around him.

The world refused to come into focus. There were shapes around Ed that he could not discern, and the shapes seemed to be moving. Blurred as it was though, the world was completely green—dark and light shades, but all green. The sky even had become bright lime in color. Ed could feel the powerful rays of the sun and he could feel the dirt in his fingers, so he figured he hadn't gone far from the place where they had been captured.

Then Ed felt his face and discovered his glasses were gone. They weren't in his pocket either. He was sure he'd been wearing them when he was taken into the globe. Of course he had them on because he couldn't have seen well enough to get around without them. Perhaps they fell out of the globe with him and were on the ground somewhere nearby. Ed started crawling around and feeling on the ground for his glasses and, much to his relief, he soon located them. They were a little bent out of shape, but still together. He put them on and still couldn't see.

"Ed? Ed?" The voice calling was Arlene's. It was not Arlene's normal voice, stern and controlled. She was frightened and quivering, like Ed had never heard her before.

"I'm over here, but I can't see anything. Where are you?"

Then Ed felt a hand on his shoulder. "I've found you. I can't see much either, but it's getting better," said Arlene.

"I can't get up," said Ed. "Can you help me? I'm just stiff. I don't think anything's broken."

Arlene took his arm and lifted and steadied Ed as he tried once more to get up. After much effort and a couple of false starts, they got him on his feet although he was still a bit unsteady.

"Can you tell where we are?" he asked.

"In the desert somewhere. That's all I can see."

"I could tell that much," said Ed. "What can you see around us?"

"Not much of anything. I'm very nearsighted without my lenses and I've lost them. I can see what's wrong with your glasses, though. They're covered with some kind of muck. So is your face. Let's see what I can do with the glasses."

Arlene took the glasses from his face. "Some of this stuff is coming off. In fact, most of it is coming off now." Arlene put the glasses in Ed's hand, and he put them back on his face.

"Now I can see," said Ed. "Not very well, but I can get around with them."

Ed stared at Arlene, and resisted telling her how she looked, even though she could probably guess by looking at him. Then Ed looked at the area around them and decided that it seemed vaguely familiar. When he saw the rocket fleet—just the tops actually, because the fleet was many kilometers away—Ed knew they were back near Needles, though probably ten or fifteen kilometers from the park. At first he didn't see the aliens, because they were far from him, and they were almost impossible to distinguish because the whole world had taken on their color. Indeed, he probably wouldn't have seen them at all if some had not moved.

"They're out there, Arlene. They're pretty far away, but we're completely surrounded."

"So what do we do now, soldier?"

The question surprised him. Ed was far more used to Arlene giving orders than asking advice, even though it was his usual practice to ignore orders and offer unwanted advice freely, especially to Arlene whom it usually rankled.

"I'd say we wait here for the time being," said Ed. "I'm sure Marilee and Miss Searles have kept track of our location and probably have Major Baines on his way with troops."

She was silent for a few minutes. Then she blurted out, "Tilson! I completely forgot about Merrill Tilson!"

"Yeah. Me, too," said Ed. Ed shaded his eyes from the sun and scanned the terrain around them for Tilson or the globe that had him. "I see a globe over there a ways, near that brush. Let's walk over there."

"Okay, but I'll have to follow you. I can't see more than a couple of meters."

The globe dropped Tilson in a heap when they were within a few meters of it and then the globe sped away. Tilson was covered with the filthy alien substance and he seemed dazed. He lay still in the dirt for a moment, then rolled over and stared at the sky. "Oh, my God! I've died and gone to hell!" Tilson rolled back over and pounded his fists into the ground and moaned.

"Tilson! Merrill Tilson!" yelled Arlene. "It's okay! We're over here!"

Tilson continued to moan and pound his fists against the ground.

"I don't think he can hear you," said Ed. "I think I can see why, too. He's got that junk all in his ears."

Arlene grabbed Tilson's shoulder and shook him. "You're okay!" she yelled again. We're here! We're here!"

Tilson looked up and seemed quite surprised to see them both, but he still moaned.

"Calm down," said Ed. "Let's get under control and see what we can figure out about this situation."

Tilson appeared even more frightened. "I can't hear you," he screamed, "and everything is green! Why is everything green?"

"Oh, good grief!" said Ed. "Tilson's an impossible case in the best of circumstances! Why do we have to be stuck with him now?"

Arlene glared at Ed. "Cut it out, Halloran. Tilson is just a sensitive individual. A lot of people should be so sensitive." Then she ripped the sleeve from her dress and rolled the tip of it into a swab and started cleaning out Tilson's ears.

Ed shook his head. "Oh, brother!"

"Can you hear me now?" asked Arlene.

"A little! I can hear a little bit now!" said Tilson, who was noticeably calmer then.

"Now let's figure what to do," said Arlene. "You got us into this! How are you going to get us out?"

"Listen! It wasn't my idea to..." Ed stopped. He wasn't going to argue about it.

"Why is everything green?" cried Tilson. "Why is the world green?"

Ed stamped his foot at Tilson. "Because you have alien crap in your eyes! That's why! And you have alien crap in your ears and that's why you can't hear! You're covered with alien crap! We all are!"

"Ed Halloran! Control yourself! There is no call to get nasty with Tilson and it won't help us out of this situation."

"Maybe not, but being kind to that doofus won't help, either!" Ed realized he was doing it again, so he turned away and clammed up. Why, he wondered, of all the people in the world, why did he have to get stuck in these circumstances with these two particular people, either of which could rile him greatly under normal conditions. Then he decided he could be calm if he must. "I'm afraid there's not much we can do to help ourselves here, except maybe to stay as far from the aliens as we can and not provoke them. I'm sure Marilee knows where we are and she probably has Major Baines and some troops on the way now. They'll spring us when they get here."

"It's getting hot out here," said Arlene. "Maybe we ought to sit down and rest and conserve our strength."

"Maybe so," said Ed, "but I probably better stand up. I'm not sure I could get back up if I got down."

"Suit yourself." Arlene dropped to the ground and assumed a straddle-legged position that looked uncomfortable to Ed, even if he could make his knees go that way.

"I think I'll walk around just a few steps here. Maybe it'll work the stiffness out," said Ed.

"My skin burns," said Tilson. "I hurt all over. I'm getting sore."

Until that moment, Ed hadn't noticed it. But his skin burned too. Maybe it was because of the blazing desert sun but Ed noticed that his skin also burned on the shaded side. It was probably reaction to the substance that covered his body, he decided.

Ed took a few slow steps around, stopping frequently to rest. He also turned frequently also, because it became obvious that the glaring sun intensified the burning sensation on his skin. Then he saw the aliens moving. One line of perhaps a dozen aliens traveling abreast was moving straight toward them. "Hey, we're going to have company!" he yelled.

Within a few minutes, the aliens had arrived, still in line. They approached very near and when Ed, Arlene, and Tilson moved aside, the line of aliens changed direction and approached them again. When Ed's group moved aside again, the aliens changed their course once more and it came to Ed suddenly that his group was being herded! The line of aliens was trying to move them in one particular direction.

"I think they want us to go that way," said Ed.

"Should we?" asked Arlene. "If they want us to go that way, what do they have in mind for us?"

"Beats me," said Ed. "But I don't want to touch them, and I don't feel up to fighting so I'm going where they want me."

"Oh, no! What are they going to do to us?" Tilson started crying. "Are they going to eat us? They're going to eat us alive!"

Ed turned to Tilson and yelled into his ear. "No, I don't think so. We don't have any evidence they ever ate anybody alive. Now after you're dead is another story!"

Tilson sobbed and Arlene yelled, "Ed Halloran! How cruel! Why must you treat Tilson that way?"

"Okay. I'll quit. I'll leave him alone," said Ed.

It wasn't difficult to see which way the aliens wanted them to go. Ed struck out on a path perpendicular to the line of aliens, and Arlene and Tilson followed. Occasionally they had to change their course to go around brush or outcroppings of rock, but the alien line would adjust to keep them herded in the right direction. They didn't move particularly swiftly, because neither Ed nor Arlene could move easily across the rough terrain and Tilson would not get more than a couple of steps away from them. Still, they stayed several meters ahead of the aliens. Ed surmised the aliens might fear the humans since humans had already killed several aliens and also wrecked many of their globes and knocked down several of the huge rockets, with many casualties.

A half an hour later, Ed figured they had gone about one kilometer when they reached the alien camp. A very large area had been cleared. It looked to Ed as if the desert surface had been bored with a huge flat machine tool because there was a huge circular depression about 50 centimeters deep cut into the ground. The depression was a few hundred meters across and the bottom was smooth, even geometrically flat all the way across. The surface didn't look like natural soil and was much darker than the desert around, but he couldn't tell if it had been paved. In a large circle just inside the outer circumference of the depression were alien globes about ten meters apart. These were guards, Ed guessed. Ed and his company stopped at the edge of the pit, but the line of the aliens grew nearer.

"They want us to go in there," said Arlene. "I don't guess we have much choice, do we?"

"No. We don't have any choice," said Ed. "I hope I can get down there. That's a tall step for an old man with no knees."

"Tilson, give him a hand," said Arlene. Tilson was looking worriedly back over his shoulder at the approaching aliens and made no effort to help Ed. "Help Ed down!" she screamed. Then she realized Tilson couldn't hear her. She grabbed his shoulder, and Tilson spun around. She yelled again, "I said help Ed down there!"

Tilson looked back at the aliens once more, then took Ed's arms and steadied him as he stepped off into the depression. Then Arlene and Tilson followed Ed. They had already moved several steps inside the alien camp when the line of aliens reached the edge. Each alien went through the same process of separating body substance to flow down the rim, then the skeleton part of each jumped down to recombine with the goop.

"That still is about the most disgusting thing I have ever seen!" said Ed.

"Well, you look pretty disgusting yourself right now," said Arlene.

"Hmm. Maybe I'd better pass on the small talk right now. I can't think of any better compliments than that myself."

"Are they going to eat us now?" asked Tilson. "I'm not ready for this. I'm much too young. You shouldn't have put me in this position."

Arlene said, "Leave him alone!" before Ed had a chance to say anything to Tilson.

When all the aliens were down, they started herding Ed and his group again. As they walked along, they passed many aliens milling about apparently without direction or purpose inside the compound. All the aliens except the ones following gave them wide clearance, though. Shortly, they came to a circle of globes that must have been near the exact center of the alien camp. Inside the circle rested a silvery globe that was much larger than all the others. This one was about two meters in diameter. The circle of globes parted so the humans could approach the large globe. Then the circle closed again.

"Now what?" asked Arlene. "What is this all about?"

"I don't know for sure, but maybe we're about to make contact with their leader. This may be him in the big globe."

"Him?" Arlene's voice was disapproving.

"Okay. It's an it, not a him," said Ed.

Ed stood directly in front (probably) of the large globe and Arlene stood beside him. Tilson stood behind both of them.

"I'm going to try once more," whispered Arlene. Then in a loud voice that had regained its previous command, Arlene said, "Greetings, Visitors. I am Arlene Sisk, authorized representative of the government of the United States of America on whose portion of the Earth's surface you have landed. I must speak with the leader of The Visitors. Are you the leader of The Visitors?"

Then a small dark spot appeared on the globe right in front of them. The spot grew until it covered most of the half facing them. Then the darkness turned light and they saw the alien inside the globe. Ed couldn't see all that well but he thought the front of the globe was open instead of just transparent, because alien goo was dribbling out onto the ground. Inside the globe was an alien that looked no different to Ed than any of the others, except that this one wore a shiny belt about two thirds of the way up its body and there was a bright metallic disk about 10 centimeters across on the belt.

Then the alien spoke, seemingly through the disk it wore on its belt. "Greetings. I am the Eldest of Veezee, whom you call Visitors. I am happy to speak with you here now. Veezee have tried many times to communicate with Earthlings since our arrival but Veezee have not been successful. Veezee have been attacked at all landing sites. It is most recent that Veezee have discovered that Earthlings communicate with physical vibrations. Veezee speak with what Earthlings say are magnetic spectrum radiations. Now I speak with device that converts Veezee magnetic speech to physical vibration speech. I, the Eldest of Veezee, hope now to have peace with Earthlings, even the government of the United States of America on whose portion of the Earth's surface Veezee have landed."

Ed was speechless.

But Arlene was not. "Ed Halloran! You imbecile! You have single-handedly plunged the world into war with these friendly... Visitors!"

### 22

"See, Halloran. You've made some stupid moves! All this time The Visitors were trying to talk to us and you wouldn't listen!" Arlene was smug, even under the caked green sludge. "Now we can get on with learning from them!"

"I still think we'd better learn about them first—like, can we trust them? Let's see some evidence of their good intentions."

The Eldest of the Veezee spoke again. "Veezee will be happy to demonstrate good intentions. We will destroy the evil Halloran for you."

"No, no! You don't understand! Halloran is not evil, just misguided!" said Arlene. "There's a great difference!"

"Then Veezee will detain Halloran for you, so that Halloran will not be able to cause problems for you."

"Oh, no! That isn't necessary, either! I can control Halloran quite well!"

"No, you can't!" said Ed. "I don't report to you any more! I report directly to President Litton."

Arlene said, "Don't be stupid, Ed!" Then she whispered into his ear, "They don't understand. It's safer if they think I'm the leader here."

Ed frowned. "So tell them we're leaving," he whispered back. "Tell them they have to send a representative to our headquarters to talk."

Arlene nodded. "Okay. Eldest Veezee, we must leave now. We wish for you to send a representative to our headquarters to speak with our leaders."

"Then you are not leader of Earthlings," said Eldest. "You are of no consequence."

The line of aliens that had herded Ed's group into the camp had stayed a few meters back, but now they began to move, and that alarmed Ed. "No, no! Ms. Sisk is very important to our government! Tilson and I will follow Ms. Sisk back to our headquarters. We will return to speak with you another time, when our leader is ready!"

"Is that what you say, Ms. Sisk?" asked Eldest.

"Yes, it is what I say. We will return," said Arlene.

Arlene turned and saw the aliens that now nearly surrounded them, and she hesitated. Ed caught her hand, and gave her a little pull. "Now. We move out of here now or we may never get out." Arlene and Tilson followed him as he went around the nearest aliens. "Now you get in front, Arlene. We're supposed to be following you."

Arlene stepped ahead of them, and moved briskly for a woman of her age. Ed's stiffness was getting better so he had no problem keeping up with her. When they reached the edge of the alien camp, though, he had a problem. He needed to step up a half a meter to get out and he could not. After a couple of tries and nearly falling, he sat on the edge of the depression and rolled over outside. Then Arlene and Tilson tugged and pulled to get him standing again.

Ed resisted the urge to look back until they had gone a hundred meters or so from the alien compound. Then he saw their alien captors, or perhaps some different aliens, had followed them to the edge, but no farther. The aliens stood in a little group near where they had left the compound.

"Are they going to follow us?" asked Arlene.

"I don't think so," said Ed. "It's just a little too much trouble to get up out of the hole."

"Yeah. They must have seen you trying to get out," said Arlene.

"My skin burns," said Tilson. "The sun is so hot out here, we're going to die in the desert. I still can't hear. There's too much of that stuff in my ears."

"I'm going to cram some of that stuff in your mouth if you don't shut up," said Ed. "We're all hurting, and I'm tired of listening to you complain!"

"What did he say? I can't hear a word he says!" cried Tilson. "I'm so miserable I could die!"

"I might arrange that, too," said Ed.

"Halloran, quit it!" Arlene moved between Ed and Tilson. She yelled in Tilson's ear, "Be patient! It's going to be okay!"

Ed just shook his head, and resolved to get Tilson out of this area and never let him return.

Later, when the group had trudged some distance out of sight of the alien camp, Ed stopped and tried to gauge their position. He looked back at the alien rocket fleet, which loomed in the distance, and he calculated the sun's position in the sky from shadows. "We're not going in the right direction. We should have been seeing Needles Park on the horizon by now."

"You're saying we're lost in the desert?" asked Arlene.

"Kind of. We know the area we're in because we can still see the rocket fleet, but we don't know our relative position because we don't know what time it is. We must have been in the globes longer than we thought."

"Do you think we might not make it?"

"We need some luck. I thought maybe we might have been near enough to make it to the park, but if we were, we didn't go the right direction. Of course, we might not have made it in our circumstances, anyway?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean think about it. We're two decrepit old people and a sniveling sissy. The only chance we have in the desert is for somebody to find us."

Arlene turned somber thinking about Ed's assessment. "We came so close! We came so close to something great!"

Then Tilson began to cry. "What's wrong now? Something else is wrong, isn't it? What's going to happen to us?" Tilson fell to his knees and sobbed.

Then, much to Ed's surprise, Arlene slapped Tilson's face. She grabbed his shirt and shook him, then yelled into his ear, "Shut up, Tilson! You're not helping anything! Get yourself under control!" Tilson's wailing subsided, but he still sniffed and buried his head in his hands.

Then Arlene looked up suddenly. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what? I don't hear anything but the wimp."

"There's a noise. It sounds like a roar but it's distant."

"I still don't hear it," said Ed. He began to look all around them. "Everything is so blasted blurred, we could get run over before I'd see it!"

"We'd get run over before you'd hear it either," said Arlene. "It's getting louder."

Ed stared all about them even more intently then. "I still don't see anything, and I don't hear it either. It may be your imagination."

"No, it wasn't. I'm sure I heard it, but now it's going away."

"What do you mean going away?"

"I mean the sound is getting fainter," she said. Then after a moment, she said, "It's gone. I don't hear it any more."

Ed wanted to believe Arlene had heard the veeto plane searching for them, but he dared not say so, to raise their hopes. He couldn't be certain Arlene hadn't heard some alien craft, or even imagined the sound.

"We need to go east," said Ed. "All the roads, the towns, the parks—everything—has to be to the east of us."

"But which way is east?" asked Arlene.

"With the sun this high and not knowing what time it is, I'm not sure, but I know how to find out." Ed found a long stick and poked it into the ground. Then he placed a pebble at the end of the stick's shadow. "Now we wait."

"Wait for what? A magtrain?"

"We wait for the shadow to move. The tip of the shadow will move east. It will take about fifteen minutes for it to move enough to give us a pretty accurate direction."

"I'm impressed, Halloran. I didn't think an old g﷓man would know anything like that."

"Hey, I'm a soldier," said Ed. "And I used to be a Boy Scout, too, but that was a long time ago."

They waited quietly, sweltering in the sun, until the stick's shadow had moved a few centimeters. Ed placed another stone at the second position. Then he stepped around and sighted down the stones. "That way is east. We're lucky that's not the way we came. I wouldn't want to go back around the alien camp."

"I hear it again," said Arlene. "I think it's louder this time."

Ed still couldn't hear it, but he searched the horizon anyway for the source of the sound. "Which way does it seem to be coming from?"

"That way, from the east if your stick is right. No, it's not, either. It's to the north."

Ed stared. "I still don't see it. No, wait! I see something! But it's far away. I can't tell what it is."

"Bad news. It's getting fainter. It's going farther away."

"I don't want to get your hopes up, but it might be the veeto. I'd think they'd be looking for us. If it's them, they'll be making another swing by here and they'll be closer next time." Ed wished he believed it.

"They are coming back! The sound is getting louder again!"

"Yes, they are!" yelled Ed. "I can see them now and I can hear them too! They're coming right to us!"

Within a few minutes, the faint buzz of the veeto plane had turned to a great roar and the plane hovered a few meters from them, raising large sprays of desert sand and debris under the jets before settling to rest. Then the roar muted to a dull whine and the passenger door of the craft flew open. Marilee sharp looked out at them. "Oh my God! You look awful!"

"Let's go!" yelled Arlene. "Let's get on the plane and get out of here!"

"Unh uh! There's no way!" said Marilee.

"What? What do you mean, there's no way?" asked Ed.

"The smell! You can't just get in the plane! We couldn't stand it!"

Then Everett Lane came to the door of the plane and looked out from behind Marilee. The smile quickly vanished from his face.

"Lane! Order Ms. sharp to let us on the plane right now!" said Arlene.

"I don't think that would be wise," said Lane. "Our pilot might pass out. I don't want to hurt your feelings but you smell worse than anything I have ever been around in my whole life!"

"Lane, you've got to do something," said Ed. "We're about to die out here."

"Okay. Let me see what I can find in here." Lane disappeared into the aircraft and returned in a few minutes with a stiff brush and two fire extinguishers. "These are the non-toxic foam kind. Maybe they'll help."

Ed put his hands over his eyes while Lane sprayed him first with one of the fire extinguishers. Ed scrubbed his face and arms and rubbed the foam in all over. Then Lane sprayed him again.

"It looks like it's getting the muck off, but I think you have a permanent stain," said Lane.

"Maybe it's not all that permanent. I had a little of that stain before and it seemed to be wearing off," said Ed.

Then Lane sprayed Arlene and Tilson with the fire extinguishers. "Lt. Sharp!" he called. "Come see what you think. Can they get in the plane with us now?"

Marilee stepped out of the craft and looked at Ed and his companions. "They're still awful, but I think we can stand it now. Or maybe we're just getting used to it now."

* * *

After a short ride in the veeto plane, they were back at the Kingman training camp. None of the former captives would agree to be debriefed until after a long hot shower with plenty of soap and shampoo.

Then came time for the debriefing session with Everett Lane, along with President Litton on the vidscreen. They watched as Litton's face appeared on the screen. At first, her attention was focused on papers on the large desk, but then she looked up at her vidscreen, with a curious expression. "Perhaps we should try another channel. Most of you look positively green on this screen."

"Beg pardon, Ms. President. It's not the screen. We are green."

"Oh! Is this some army camouflage technique?"

"Oh, no!" said Arlene. "It's not camouflage. It's only the result of an unfortunate incident while we made contact with The Visitors."

The president's face brightened. "So you finally made contact! That's wonderful!" Then she added, "Isn't it?"

"It's progress, but that's about all you can claim for it," said Ed. "From all we have been able to learn, the aliens are completely incompatible with human life. We'll have to have some direct contact and set up some lines of communication, but we absolutely must keep them isolated from humanity, for all our sakes."

"I'd hoped for more encouraging words about the first contact," said Litton, "but this does mean war isn't likely, doesn't it? I mean, according to the textbooks, effective communication prevents wars."

"I'm afraid the textbooks have no validity in this case," said Ed. "Textbooks are written from human experience about human nature. These filthy things are worse than maggots. If we can exterminate them, we should. If we can't, then we'll have to learn to control them or at least to coexist on some basis. But coexistence would be about the worst thing to happen to mankind since the world wars."

"What is your assessment, Sisk?" asked Litton.

"We stand on the threshold of great things, Ms. President! We have discovered today that The Visitors are peaceful and they are anxious to use their advanced intellect to help us solve the world's problems. The problem, as I see it, is that we are so far behind that they may have trouble understanding us but open lines of communication can overcome that—If you can keep old fools from barging in and destroying the process!"

Litton suddenly looked weary. "Hmm. We're going to have to work out a common position, and I can already see it's not going to be easy. I'd like for each of you, including Lane, to write a comprehensive report on where you think we stand with the aliens..."

"Visitors!" said Arlene. "We must think of them as our Visitors!"

Litton appeared annoyed at the interruption. "Okay. Visitors, if we must refer to them that way. But whatever, we have to be united on this. We will have only one official position from the government, and I will decide what that position is, after I've heard all the facts."

"Very good, Ms. President," said Ed. "I'll get started right away. You'll have a first draft later today."

"You already know my position, but I'll report anyway. You'll have my assessment within a couple of hours," said Arlene.

"Good. I'll be waiting for the reports. In the meantime, though, I think you should get back to Washington, Sisk. You can work on the report while you travel."

"Very well, Ms. President. I'm on my way," said Arlene.

The president reached for the disconnect switch, but paused. "Oh, one more thing, Sisk."

"Yes. What is it?"

"Find some cosmetics to cover up your skin before you arrive. Don't show up in Washington green because it won't be well received. You'll cause a panic!"

Then Litton's voice faded from the screen before Arlene could say anything else.

### 23

Feb. 4, 2035

Evan Saxon and Hank Halloran rested in overstuffed chairs in the plush waiting room at the control center of Arecibo Observatory while Corporal Garcia went to announce their arrival to President Duran.

"They have changed the decor since we were here last, haven't they?" asked Halloran.

"Yes, I believe they have. I think I remember oil paintings on the walls last time." Saxon pulled himself up out of the large chair and walked around the waiting room. "My gosh! These are holograms and they are good!"

Halloran took a closer look. "They are! These are so good it looks like the view from a porthole in a space shuttle! The black space and gleaming lights are so realistic!"

Saxon was inspecting another. "Look at this! If you stand to this side of the hologram, you can see a shuttle wing. And look there! Right behind the wing is an astronaut on a tether line. It looks like the astronaut is even moving!"

"It is moving," said Halloran.

Sure enough, as Saxon watched, the astronaut in the hologram reeled in the line that brought him (or her, perhaps, since one couldn't see who was in the space suit) nearer to the shuttle. Then the astronaut disappeared under the form of the shuttle wing. "I didn't know it was possible to make such a realistic hologram. I wouldn't have believed it!"

"I'm glad you like it!"

Saxon and Halloran were both startled. They were so caught up with the holograms that they hadn't noticed President Duran entering.

Saxon turned sharply. "Mr. President! It's good to see you again."

"It certainly is," said Halloran. "We were just enjoying the holograms. I didn't know technology existed for anything quite like this—especially with the moving images!"

"It does have depth, doesn't it?" said Duran. Then he removed one of the holograms from the wall. "Look at this. It is no more than a centimeter thick. Yet, when you view it from the front, it has almost infinite depth."

"May I see the back of it?" asked Saxon. He took the panel from Duran and studied it very carefully. The back of the panel was very smooth. Its only feature was a loop of very fine wire that ran near its edges. "What is the wire for?" asked Saxon. "It doesn't seem to be connected to anything."

"The wire is an antenna," said Duran. "The hologram has no fixed image. Instead, we send images by UHF transmission. That picture is live, by the way. From our shuttle."

"What? That's incredible!" said Halloran. "Where did you get the technology for it?"

"I am offended," said Duran. "I would have expected that from Senor Jantzen, but not from you. We developed the technology ourselves, of course! In the Laboratoria Nacionale."

"It must have been quite recent," said Saxon. "I'd never even heard of anything like it."

"Somewhat recently—a few months ago, in fact. However, we have kept it secret for a reason. It stands to reason that an alien intelligence capable of learning an Earth language could also understand the technology for this, especially if we coached them. But we don't know if we should."

Saxon almost dropped the hologram. "What? What did you mean about learning our language?"

"Another small secret, amigo. I did not wish to tell the world before I told you."

"Then you have a communication we haven't heard about?" asked Halloran.

"Indeed," said Duran. "Follow me, please."

They followed Duran to a small room fairly crammed with electronic instruments. Duran went to a console and pushed a couple of switches. He pointed to a large speaker behind them, and in a moment, the speaker began to buzz. Then it sounded like rushing water. After a few seconds came the words—metallic and rasping, but clearly spoken nevertheless. "I am one. We are two. We are many. We are not like you."

"How long ago was that message received?" asked Halloran.

"About one month ago."

"I don't understand," said Saxon. "Why didn't you send it to us as soon as it came in?"

"Ah, but we did! We sent the entire transmission to you as soon as we had recorded it. But it was only yesterday that we discovered the words in it."

"I still don't understand," said Saxon. "We've run that whole transmission through the computer and we didn't find any words in it."

Duran smiled. "North Americans don't know everything, eh?"

"Apparently not," said Saxon. "How did you find it?"

"One of our technicians noticed a slight difference in this transmission. He was observing the pulses on an oscilloscope when he saw that the highest amplitude step on each consecutive pulse was only slightly different in its position, and there seemed to be a trend in the variation. So he had our computer test it from some different angles and he discovered that step position in the pulse corresponded to signal amplitude. A form of amplitude modulation, if you will."

Halloran and Saxon both thought about that for a while. "What else was in the transmission?"

"There was nothing else. The entire three hour transmission contained only those words."

"Only? In three hours." Saxon wondered how the whole transmission could only contain fourteen words.

"Yes. That is all of the transmission. I believe the aliens thought they were speaking slowly and clearly to make it easier for us. Perhaps they have a different grasp of time than us, eh?"

"Why did they say that?" wondered Saxon. "That doesn't seem like a logical response to the messages we've sent."

"But it is logical," said Duran. "My country is not controlled by your commission. We cooperate because of our good will, and because of our friendship with you personally. That message is an answer to one of many questions transmitted by the institute."

"Well, this will sure blow things open," said Halloran. "I think the public was getting a little tired of spending so much money on ETCC with so little result. That should change when we announce this."

"Maybe we should not announce it so quickly," said Duran.

"Why not?" asked Saxon. "What possible benefit could there be in a delay?"

"Think about it, senores. You have a new president and she favors the loco woman Norden. If she believes we can speak with the aliens in English, then she has no need for you at all. Norden and her friends will control your commission and there will be no place for you."

"But you could help with that," said Halloran. "Surely you could use your influence with President Eddings."

"I have no influence with Eddings. If we did not act as she wished, she would simply have your scientists build more powerful transmitters and larger antennas than we have. Our feeble voice would not be heard."

"You're probably right," said Halloran. "The more I think about, I'm convinced. No matter what Eddings says about promoting cultural diversity, she's more committed to feminism and she absolutely loathes Latino culture. She has it connected with macho dominance."

Duran smiled. "Then you are with us. We will form our own alliance."

"Count me in," said Halloran.

Saxon frowned. "I suppose, but I don't have a good feeling about it. I guess I have a great fear it could backfire on us."

Duran looked hurt. "Is your fear greater than the hope for what we could accomplish?"

"You're right," said Saxon. "We have already made the most astonishing scientific breakthrough in the history of mankind, with the promise of so much more to come, and we could lose it all to political expediency. Of course, this is bigger than me or all of us."

### 24

June 14, 2112

Dateline Washington, DC

Headline: COMMUNICATING AT LAST!

Arlene Sisk, director of the Alien Anti-bigotry Commission, announced a breakthrough today. Using an unusual electronic news conference format, Sisk told media representatives that she, accompanied by another AABC member and an unidentified military officer, spoke briefly with the leader of The Visitors—Veezee, as they identify themselves.

Sisk told how the world was very nearly plunged into a catastrophic confrontation with Veezee who are basically friendly and peace-loving, although they are undoubtedly far ahead of us technologically as well as socially.

"It is indeed fortunate that I insisted on meeting personally with The Visitors," said Sisk. "Up to now we have depended on the Old Guard element in our government and their reactionary methods almost produced tragic results for our entire world. I thought we had learned years ago, and it seems like we should have, that the old macho warrior methods of confrontation are no longer valid. We should have learned that only cooperation and communication can produce peace and understanding between diverse civilizations."

According to Sisk, the historic meeting took place earlier today at a Veezee camp a few kilometers north of Needles, California. The camp is some distance away from the fleet of rocket ships upon which The Visitors arrived. An unidentified AABC administrator speculated that Veezee had moved away from the rockets because of the danger of igniting a massive fuel spill. Sisk attributed the fuel spill to a blundering military move that knocked over several of the giant craft a month earlier.

* * *

"Who do you think you are to ignore my orders? What gives you the right, completely on your own and without consulting me, to put out an official government position on the aliens?" Neither Ed nor Arlene had ever seen President Clarice Litton so angry and her fiery indignation erased any perceptions of timidity or weakness that her small stature may have caused.

"It is my job—and what I've prepared for over my entire adult life. It is my job, my duty, to inform the American people about The Visitors. They need me to prevent needless hysteria. And I don't have any apology for doing that."

Litton stood and leaned across the big mahogany desk. "Sisk, are you oblivious to what you've brought about? Don't you know there are millions of people trying to get to California right now to see the aliens first hand? They all read this morning's news before I did! What's going to happen to them?"

"Oh, my! That is unexpected," said Arlene. "I don't think there will be any great problem as long as it's civilians and not military. Maybe we should hold some cultural sensitivity classes though, just so we don't accidentally cause another incident."

"Perhaps you don't understand something, Sisk! We are still in a declared state of national emergency! I have the power to hold you under arrest for insubordination! Or for treason, even! I will have you tried for treason for disobeying my direct orders!"

"That would be unwise, Ms. President. Don't you know how much popular support there is for AABC? The world will no longer tolerate senseless confrontations like in the past!"

"Don't push me, Sisk. I'm ordering you right now to get out a different message. I want you to tell people to stay away from the aliens!"

Arlene stood. "Is that all, Ms. President?"

"That's all for now—unless you cross me again! By the way, I have asked Colonel Halloran to use all the means at his command to keep people away from the aliens, as a matter of public safety. I am also posting a presidential order that no civilian is to make contact with the aliens."

* * *

A couple of hours later, Arlene saw the president's proclamation on a big wallscreen at AABC headquarters. Litton spoke from the oval office. Arlene was quite sure camera trickery had been used to make the diminutive chief executive appear larger than in real life.

"Citizens of the United States," she began. "I must speak with you today of some matters of the gravest importance. Please listen carefully, and give your government absolute cooperation, because our national security is at stake.

"First, I must remind you that we are still in a declared state of national emergency, which is the equivalent of martial law. Our constitution provides for unusual government powers in these trying times. We can hope and pray for an end to the emergency, but now you must obey rules as they are posted.

"Secondly, I have ordered all civilians to stay at least 300 kilometers from The Visitors. Regardless of what other reports you may have heard, The Visitors still represent known and unknown dangers to the population. I have also ordered our military commander, Colonel Halloran, to use all means at his disposal to keep civilians away from the aliens. If you are already traveling to see the aliens, please turn back immediately. Don't make a critical situation worse!

"The third point is that all government communication will come only from myself or Everett Lane, who has been appointed to a cabinet level position as Advisor on Alien Affairs. Do not make the mistake of believing news reports that originate from any other source. We will treat violators of government orders as traitors!

Please be assured that we believe the danger will pass. However, it may be some time before it will be safe for humans to have personal contact with The Visitors. For the present, we will continue on three fronts. First, we will use military methods to protect the population. Second, we will maintain constant communication with our friends around the world at the other landing sites so that we can stay abreast of any new developments. And, lastly, we will maintain contact with the aliens and study their ways, with the goal of establishing permanent friendly, safe contact with them.

"As news develops, the nation will be informed. It is my fervent hope that the next news will be more favorable.

"Now, please give your attention to the recorded interview which follows. Presidential advisor Everett Lane interviewed Merrill Tilson a short time ago. Mr. Tilson was one of the AABC agents who made contact with the aliens this morning.

Larger than life, Tilson's dark green presence jumped onto the screen. Tilson looked no better, no more composed than he had in the presence of The Visitors. Startled by Tilson's appearance, Arlene looked at her hands for assurance that the thick cosmetic paint still covered. Then she took a mirror from her bag and studied her face. She looked terrible, but at least the green didn't show through.

Everett Lane, sitting beside Tilson, stared somberly. "I'm Everett Lane," he said. "I'm Advisor on Alien Affairs for President Litton, and it is on her behalf that Mr. Tilson and I are here today to speak to you. Merrill Tilson was one of three persons captured yesterday by alien forces and taken to the alien camp near Needles, California. Although all three were later released, they all suffered traumatic experiences. Perhaps neither of the others suffered more than Tilson, who is here to tell us of his experience."

Lane turned to Tilson. "Would you care to tell us about it in your own words?"

"What? What did you say?" asked Tilson, his voice still cracking.

"I'm sorry," said Lane, facing the camera. "I'd forgotten that Tilson's hearing was adversely affected by this trauma." Then turning again to Tilson, Lane yelled into his ear. "How about telling viewers about your capture?"

Tilson began to sniff. "I... I don't know if I can, but I'll try. It was horrible. They eat people, you know. I was sure they'd eat us."

"What was the circumstance of your capture?" yelled Lane. "How did you come to be captured?"

"It was Halloran's doing—and yours! It was your idea. That was the start of it!" Tilson stopped to sob, and Lane looked uncomfortable at Tilson's accusation. Then Tilson continued. "They sent those round things, their rocket globes, to get us. Those things just kind of sucked us inside and they were filled with awful, vile stuff. I thought I'd suffocate or drown in there, but I didn't. I almost wish I had! I wouldn't be like this!"

Lane yelled into Tilson's ear. "The substance in the globe—wasn't that what caused your present appearance, as well as some other problems?"

Tilson nodded.

Then Lane turned again to the camera. "We've managed to piece together a lot of what happened, but there is still much more to learn. Tilson's doctors tell us that the substance in the globe was most likely alien's body waste, which they seem to ooze constantly. That results in an extremely foul odor for humans. The substance also causes the skin discoloration which you will observe has happened to Mr. Tilson."

"What? What are you saying?" cried Tilson.

Lane waved his hand at Tilson. "Later! I'll tell you later!"

Then Lane continued for the camera. "Mr. Tilson's doctors say the alien substance is very rich in oxygen, which explains why the victims who were caught in the globes didn't suffocate or drown. However, it also contains several compounds that are toxic to humans to some degree, causing severe allergic reactions to the skin as well as this discoloration. In Mr. Tilson's case, the substance got into his ears and has practically destroyed his hearing. We don't know yet the extent to which he may eventually recover."

Arlene Sisk stood in front of the wallscreen. She forgot about what Lane was saying and just watched Merrill Tilson, as the green AABC agent broke down and sobbed. "That's dirty!" she said to herself, but aloud. "Why did he have to do that to Tilson?" Then she turned away from the wallscreen, muttering. "This is going to set us back! There is going to be such bias against The Visitors!"

Then a young woman hurrying into the room bumped into Arlene. "Excuse me, Ms," said the woman. "I'm afraid I was just watching the vidscreen." Then she turned and stared at Arlene. "Oh my! Is that you, Ms. Sisk? What happened? What is wrong?"

"Yes, Jill, it's me. I just have an allergy," said Arlene. "I have some medication on now, but I'll be over it soon."

Jill tried not to stare. "I'm sorry, Ms. Sisk. I'm very, very sorry!"

### 25

July 19, 2112

Recently promoted Major Baines had the battalion assembled at the Kingman training camp. "At ease!" yelled Baines. "Colonel Halloran is here to address us. He will be filling us in on President Litton's directives, as well as the latest information we have on the aliens." He turned slightly. "Colonel, are you ready?"

Ed stepped in front of the troops. "Thank you, Major. I'm not at all sure I'm ready, but I have to try. We all have to try.

"First, I want to say that we have a substantial amount of printed material for each of you to read. Some of it contains a message from the President about our mission, and another part covers all the information we have managed to assemble about the aliens. I'd like for all of you to study it carefully. Even though some of our initial information will probably turn out to be erroneous, it is the best we have at the present time.

"Now, Major Baines will have some one distribute the information."

The old soldier directed platoon leaders to pass the pamphlets to the soldiers in each platoon.

Then Ed continued. "The first point I'd make is that our job is two-fold. On one hand, we have to contain the aliens. Until we know more about them and have established lines of communication, we cannot let them range out of the desert areas they already have occupied. Regardless of what anybody at AABC says, we will use military force to prevent aliens from contacting humans.

"Secondly, we must also prevent citizens from trying to contact the aliens. Because our mission is to protect human life, we are not allowed the same force we would use with the aliens. However, we will use all necessary force, including arrest and detention."

Ed carefully explained President Litton's position on human-alien interaction, and then Major Baines covered at length the battalion plans for posting extra sentry stations and patrolling the perimeter of alien occupied territory. After this, they opened the session to questions from the troops.

A young soldier on the front row raised his hand and was acknowledged. "Sir, I've heard that your... uh, skin condition came from contacting the aliens. Is that right?"

"That's absolutely right. Aliens continuously ooze some kind of vile fluids that cause this stain. Their rocket globes all seem to have some amount of the crap inside, and I came in contact with it when I was captured. That is one very important reason we have to prevent human contact.

"I understand that Ms. Sisk, the AABC director, is covering her stain with cosmetics, but I've chosen not to, because I wanted to make a point."

Then a young woman raised her hand. "We've always been taught we should refer to them as Visitors. Why do you insist on calling them aliens?"

"Again, it's because I want to make a point. The word Visitors implies they are welcome guests who will leave after a reasonable visit, and that is simply not the case. They came uninvited, and we have no evidence yet they ever plan to leave. We also don't know why they came or what they plan."

"Sir, then why don't we make a preemptive strike? Why don't we just take them out before they can harm us?"

"That's an appealing thought," said Ed. "I wish we could, but there are a couple of important reasons why we can't. First, we don't know their true strength. If they could, they might simply destroy all of us."

"And the other reason, sir?"

"As a nation, we don't have the political will. There is a group—with considerable following in both government and the private sector—there are those who refuse to believe the aliens are anything more than advanced humans. I think these people may pose as great a danger as the aliens themselves."

* * *

Soon after the additional sentry posts were established all around the alien territory, Major Baines accompanied Ed on an inspection tour in the veeto plane. Using the aircraft, they were able to determine that the troops almost completely encompassed the aliens. There were only a few gaps in the coverage where the terrain was too formidable. Ed and Baines reasoned that these areas would be also too difficult for the aliens to cross.

Once around the perimeter, they stopped at an outpost that was near the alien campsite where Arlene, Tilson, and Ed had made contact. The veeto craft stirred up a great amount of dust and Ed hoped they'd landed downwind of the troops who manned the post. Major Baines stepped down out of the aircraft first, followed by Ed. Six soldiers already stood at attention facing the airplane.

"As you were," said the major. "All of you except the squad leader can go back to your posts.

All the soldiers except Sergeant Cissy Granger returned to their positions. "How is it going here, Sergeant?" asked Baines. "Have you seen any activity yet?"

"Yes sir. Just as you were arriving, some of the globes were moving around out there. I was just reporting back to headquarters when you came."

"Hmm. Could you see what they were doing?"

"No sir. A line of globes just moves by every few minutes very slowly about three hundred meters away. Then they go back down that ravine and head away. Back to the alien camp, I suppose."

"We'd better have a look down there," said Baines. "Let's check it out."

Ed and Sergeant Granger followed the Major down to the ravine. "This is fairly deep," said Baines. "It's possible aliens could get by here without being seen. Get somebody down here with a comphone so they can watch the gully."

Then they followed as Baines hiked down the ravine. A few hundred meters from the outpost, they saw the trails. Everywhere the alien rocket globes had gone, there was a thin charred trail in the desert sand. And then Ed saw the other trails. "You see what they're doing here? Every trip they make by here is about ten meters closer to the post. They know we're here, and they're trying to see how close they can come before they get a response."

"Then what should we do?" asked Granger.

"I'd say we give them a response," said Baines. "The president has already said she wants us to contain the aliens right here until she's ready for them to leave the area."

"What exactly do you have in mind?" asked Ed.

"I'll show you. Get a couple of your troops to unload that crate from the veeto."

Sergeant Granger used her comphone to order two privates to bring the crate. The privates met them back at the post with the crate, and Major Baines snapped it open. Then the Major took out six laser pistols. "Distribute these to your squad."

"But that won't work," said Ed. "Laser guns are effective against aliens, but the beams just reflect right off the globes. It's more dangerous to our troops than to the aliens!"

Not these lasers!" said Baines. "Mr. Lane has made more progress than you know about! Infrared penetrates right inside. We have visible red added for aiming, but the ion trailer is gone. Ions can't get through the globe material."

As soon as a several squad members had been armed with the new weapons, four were stationed where they could watch the ravine. Ed and Major Baines returned to the post then, to confer again with Sergeant Granger.

Granger greeted them with a message. "The outpost just called. Globes are on the way again!"

Ed followed the best he could as Baines hurried back to the ravine outpost. Before he got there, he could see a young soldier animatedly reporting to the Major. Then Ed reached the post and he could see for himself. There was a line of globes approaching single file and very low in the ravine. The globes slowed, then stopped completely, with each hovering atop a pencil thin yellow flame. And then the globes came very fast.

"Fire!" yelled Baines. "Take them out!"

One soldier aimed his pistol until the red laser beam touched on a globe, and then pushed the infrared trigger. Nothing happened at first, but then the globe shot straight up for several hundred meters before careening wildly through the desert sky like a toy balloon, and crashing in a ball of flame a kilometer away. At first, the entire group gawked at the spectacle until Baines yelled, "Keep firing! They're still coming! Keep them contained!"

At that command, all four soldiers started firing and Baines joined them. Within seconds, a dozen or more alien globes were spinning through the air, and then globes were crashing all around them. One globe landed so near the squad that the resulting explosion almost knocked them down, and another crashed perilously close to the veeto plane.

For a couple of minutes, no more globes appeared. "Do you think we've repelled them?" Ed asked of the major.

"I doubt it. They've probably only gone back to regroup."

Baines' assessment was prophetic. Another line of globes appeared suddenly in the ravine, and another line of globes came across the open desert a few hundred meters away.

"Fire!" yelled Baines. The soldiers began firing at the approaching globes, and took several out in the same spectacular fashion. But there were so many and they were going so fast that some got through. The soldiers turned and began firing at the alien vehicles that had crossed their line, and they destroyed a few more globes.

Ed was shaking. "Did we get all of them?"

"Don't know," said Baines. "I kind of doubt it, though. There were just too many of them."

They waited a few more minutes until it seemed there would be no more alien advances. Then Major Baines ordered Sergeant Granger to double the watch and to be certain that all of her squad was armed with the new weapons. "Also, be danged sure you report to headquarters at the first sign of another advance!"

"How many of the new pistols do we have?" asked Ed.

"I have enough to leave some at all the major outposts. I also have some shoulder weapons with scope sights. Come on and let's get them delivered.

Ed had to hustle to avoid being left behind as Baines hurried back to the veeto. The craft's engines were already whirring and stirring dust when Ed clambered inside and pulled the door shut. Then pilot Searles had the plane in the air before Ed could get seated.

Searles took them on a wide sweep around that outpost but they saw no more live alien vehicles. From their altitude, the bright desert landscape they saw was spotted with huge black circles where the globes had crashed and exploded. Then Ed had pilot Searles take them to several of the major outposts where the new laser weapons were distributed. Major Baines instructed the squads at each stop to share the weapons with the nearest squads on either side.

* * *

After the tour, Ed returned to the Kingman camp and reported to President Litton. Ed called up the president, and then as an afterthought, engaged Everett Lane's com on a split screen. We might as well take care of all reports at once, he thought.

It was a grim-faced president Ed saw on the wall screen. "You have recent action to report, I take it?"

"Ah... Yes, Ms. President. I do. How did you know?"

"It's all in the press. They're quicker with the report than you are!"

"The press! But how did they know? I haven't told anybody else yet! I thought you'd want to control the announcements."

"Yes, indeed! But it seems several of your conscripts were in the news media before they were in the army. They still have their old loyalties."

"Crud! I can't have that! I'll get rid of every last one of them right now! I think we'll even have a courtmartial!" said Lane.

"No, you won't," said the president. "I'm having enough trouble politically without a free press confrontation. You'll both just have to learn to live with it."

_Sure I will!_ Ed thought to himself. "Yes, Ms. President," Ed said weakly, though he was already entertaining ideas about moving the troublesome reporters to less sensitive positions.

"One more thing you should know about, Colonel. There's a move in congress to declare aliens to be people. They're trying to pass a law that declare any species with at least the intelligence of humans to be people—the equivalent of humans—with comparable global and national constitutional rights.

"What! That's the stupidest crap I've ever heard! That couldn't possibly pass both houses! Could it?"

"It well might," said Litton. "Your old nemesis at AABC is behind it all. It seems she's been working behind my back, lobbying Congress, and she may have had more success than I would have thought."

"Of course you'll veto it!" said Lane.

The president paused thoughtfully. "I'll want to, naturally. But I'll just have to see what the vote is. If they override a veto, it would be devastating to us."

"But if this thing goes through, what does that mean for our campaign? For the army's mission?" Then Ed thought about it. "Never mind. I can see very clearly what it means."

"Do you have anything else to report, except about the confrontation?" asked the president.

"No. That's about it," Ed mumbled.

"Very well, then. I have some other work to do." Litton's somber face faded from the screen, leaving only Lane staring numbly at Ed. Then Lane's countenance vanished too.

### 26

April 1, 2051

Evan Saxon struggled to make it up on the first step, and then steadied himself with the cane for a few seconds before he tried the second. On the second step, he steadied himself again. Then he stared up at the Capitol Building and calculated how long it would take to reach the top step. And he thought about how exhausted he would be.

"Why don't you let me get some help?" asked Mark Fenwick, the attorney who had volunteered to help Evan at the hearing. "I could get a wheelchair and take you up the ramp. Or we could take the service elevator."

"No. I'll make it. If I don't go in this way, the reporters will think I'm trying to hide, and I wouldn't want them to think I'm ashamed of anything I've ever done. Because I'm not."

Fenwick shrugged. "At your age, they wouldn't think anything except you couldn't make these ridiculous steps. Besides, I don't even see any reporters. Maybe they don't care about your testimony anyway."

"Nevertheless, I'm going up here. I've never been one to take the easy way."

Fenwick shook his head. Then he took Saxon's arm and helped him up, silently and one tortuous step at a time. Then they entered through the massive door.

The reporters, who had been waiting for him at the elevator, saw him then. When the reporters rushed to them, Fenwick stepped in front to shield him from the barrage. "Mr. Saxon is not up to answering questions right now, and we are late for the hearing. I promise we will have a written statement for you right after the hearing."

Just one question!" yelled a woman reporter with a butch haircut. She waved a wireless microphone in the air. "How does it feel to be a traitor?"

"A traitor? Listen, you..." Saxon searched for words. "I'm not the traitor! Those ultraliberal quasi-scientists at ETCC—they're the traitors! They've subverted the institution! They have loaded the courts and thrown out the constitution—all in the name of political correctness!"

Fenwick pulled at his arm. "Come on, Evan. We need to get to the hearing."

Saxon resisted, turning back to the throng of reporters. "I'll tell you something else, too! That Norden dame—she's the worst of the lot! She wouldn't know truth if it hit her in the face!"

By then, Fenwick was pulling Saxon along toward the hearing room. The reporters were following along, crowding Saxon and Fenwick so much that the old man almost lost his balance. A reporter that Saxon recognized from Political Network News pushed through the crowd to Saxon's side and thrust a microphone in his face. "How are you going to justify your actions? What are you going to tell the committee?"

"I don't have to justify my actions! I'm going to tell the committee that I've rescued scientific research from political expediency! I'm going to tell them what I've done for academic freedom!"

Fenwick opened a door then, and tugged Saxon into the committee hearing room. Uniformed guards kept out the crowd of reporters, much to Saxon's approval. Until he saw the front of the room was filled with reporters, most of which carried portable recorders. Then there were those video cameras staring down from three walls. Of course, this hearing would be carried live by PNN, and then there would be endless reruns, suitably edited, playing on PNN for the next week.

One at a time, the members of the House Public Policy Committee arrived and were seated at the front of the huge HPPC Inquiry Room, sometimes facetiously called the House Inquisition Room, though not usually within earshot of chairman Darron Gravens or his colleagues. As each committee member settled in, a make-up technician rushed over to prepare that member for the most favorable exposure.

"Hmpf. Nothing is real any more," said Saxon. "When they get through with Graven, he'll look like everybody's favorite grandfather—instead of the stumbling drunk that he is."

"Shush!" said Fenwick. "Half the people in here can hear you! You don't realize how loud you talk!"

"Damn if I don't! I mean for people to hear me! If they didn't want anybody to hear me, they shouldn't have told me to come!"

Fenwick glared. "Settle down anyway. When it's your turn, you'll get to have your say."

Evan Saxon and his attorney were seated on the front row, but Saxon craned his neck and stared at the crowd that had gathered in the Inquiry Room. Soon he noticed that three of PNN's four video cameras were aimed directly at him. Saxon grinned and waved for the cameras. Then all but one of the cameras swung back to the front where chairman Graven was practicing poses while he watched himself in the small monitor on his desk.

"What a pompous ass!" said Saxon. "Do you suppose he's sober?"

Fenwick grimaced and rubbed his hand across his forehead. "Why on earth did I let you come here? I could have got you out of this!"

"I don't answer to you! I got a subpoena and I came because I aim to tell it like it is!"

Then a sharp whack from Graven's gavel quieted Saxon, as well as the buzz that had settled over the audience before the public inquiry began. "If Professor Saxon and his attorney will allow us, it's time for these proceedings to start."

"Take it away!" said Saxon, with a wave. Then the few snickers grew into rocking laughter across the auditorium before Graven slammed his gavel on the desk again.

Then, with an eye on his monitor, Graven turned and adjusted his pose until he seemed quite satisfied with the effect before he spoke into his microphone. "Good afternoon, citizens. And we also wish a good afternoon to those of you representing the media here today, because it is your sacred responsibility to inform America about the workings of their government, in an unbiased and impartial manner. I must say that I'm quite confident you will all report in exactly that way, based on my personal observations since I've chaired this committee."

"He's really laying it on thick," said Saxon. The comment drew muted laughs from all those people who sat near him, except for attorney Fenwick who gave him an angry stare.

Chairman Graven noticed, but thought better about admonishing the elderly professor. "We need to hurry along," said Graven as he stared at Saxon. "I must remind everyone here that although this is not a court, we must follow certain rules in the interests of justice and truth, and these are similar to rules of court.

"Our purpose here today is to uncover the truth about allegations that certain individuals have conspired to hide scientific evidence from the very government agencies that have been established to study it, particularly in regard to communication with aliens from outer space. It has been alleged that several people, including Professor Saxon who is here today—it is alleged that they have deliberately withheld virtually all of the alien communications received so far. If that is indeed the case, it is very definitely a breech of the public trust—privately undermining Public Policy as established by a legitimate government agency, the Extra-Terrestrial Communication Commission."

"That's some speech," mumbled Saxon. "Is he up for re-election this year?" The comment drew a sharp poke from Fenwick. It also drew a stare from Graven.

The chairman continued. "The committee calls Helen Norden for our first witness."

The audience watched silently as Norden, assisted by a nurse, made her way slowly to the witness stand and was sworn in by the sergeant-at-arms. This is everybody's own grandmother, thought Saxon. Kindly, silver-haired, and very serene, she smiled shyly for the audience before whispering something to the nurse who had assisted her. The nurse patted her shoulder softly and smiled. And Evan Saxon thought, they'll never see her for what she is. Nobody will ever see that Helen Norden is conniving and manipulative. But I know what she really is and I'm going to do my best to show the world.

"Now, Ms. Norden, it is such a pleasure to have you here today."

Norden beamed. "Thank you, Congressman Graven."

"You've been in this endeavor for a long time, haven't you?" asked Graven.

"Why, yes, I have. I've spent just about my entire adult life in public service."

"Yes, yes. We're all aware of that. We're quite aware of the impact you've had on the sciences, especially the social sciences. That's why you've become known as the Margaret Mead of Outer Space."

Norden became serious. "That's very flattering. I've tried—as have my co-workers—but it has been so difficult because of the obstacles that were created by those who would subvert our great work." Then Norden sobbed and dabbed a handkerchief at tears that were beginning to trickle down her face.

"I know this must be painful for you," said Graven. "But try to bear with us, please. The truth must come out.

Norden sniffed and nodded to the chairman. "I'm fine."

"At this time, I'm going to allow members of HPPC to question Ms. Norden. After that, she can make a statement for the committee, or we can simply distribute copies of her sworn deposition, since this is such an obvious strain for her. We are now open for questions from our members."

Congresswoman Andrea Papillon from upstate New York had the first question. "Ms. Norden, when did you first become aware the technical subcommittee had deceived you?"

"Some of my colleagues—and Arnetta Washington, in particular—have always believed that Saxon and his accomplices were up to no good. But I suppose I'm just basically too trusting for my own good. Until we had the confession from Homer Philips, I didn't believe anybody could be that crass, that... subversive!"

"Bullcrap!" muttered Saxon. "She's the most conniving old biddy in government!" This drew chuckles from the people near Saxon, and another whack from Graven's gavel.

Then Rep. Bolind from Kentucky asked, "Surely, you must have had some suspicion about the technicians. Couldn't you tell from their reports that something was not quite right?"

"Yes, of course! But I thought all that was not right was their peevishness about being out of control! I never dreamed the reports were completely fabricated!"

Each of the nine HPPC members asked one question of Helen Norden before she was dismissed. To Evan Saxon's thinking, each question was leading, phrased to put Norden in the best light and cause Saxon and his partners to appear evil. Even the three members who were known to be unsympathetic to the social activists were gentle with Norden.

Then it was Saxon's turn to testify. He made his way to the witness stand, where he was asked to recite an oath to tell the truth, and then was warned sternly by Graven that perjury would not go unpunished.

"I don't remember you rattling Norden's cage," said Saxon. "If you don't talk to that lying old crone about perjury, there's no call to talk to me like that? This is a show, isn't it? Haven't you already decided I'm guilty as sin?"

Graven huffed and his nose reddened, even under the makeup. "This is not a court, Mr. Saxon. However, this committee is an institution of the United States Government and it must be accorded respect. Or I will have you held in contempt!"

"I am already contemptible of your House Political Correctness Committee! I believe it is unconstitutional because it limits free speech and punishes people for disagreeing with the politicians in power!"

"Mr. Saxon! This committee's constitutionality has already been determined by the Supreme Court!" Graven's nose was getting even redder.

"Of course it was upheld! Nine to eight on a packed court!"

Chairman Graven started to fume and sputter, until Congressman Eames who sat to Graven's left tapped his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Then Eames spoke. "Our chairman needs a short break. I will fill in until he returns." Graven got up clumsily and retired through the door at the back of the inquiry room.

Eames stared at Evan Saxon. "Before we go any further, Professor Saxon, would you agree to stipulate that you and your accomplices conspired to deceive the Message Subcommittee of the Extra-Terrestrial Communications Commission, as well as the rest of the government, and the people of the United States? And that you, in fact, did deceive all of us?"

"Pardon? What was the question again?"

Eames frowned. "You know the question! Why did you and those old buddies of yours lie to the public?"

"Actually, Congressman, none of us ever lied to the public. The public never asked us anything. Norden lied though—every single day. That old... that... well, that woman made up stuff. It didn't matter what reports we gave her. She made up all of that alien psychology business and all of that alien social model crap, too!"

"At least her group seriously studied the aliens," said the congressman. "And they obviously accomplished a whole lot, even without help from the technicians."

Then Congressman Danson of Idaho had a question. "Mr. Saxon, how did a person like you come to be on a presidential commission anyway?"

"Quite simply, it's because the commission was my idea. I suggested it to President Rogers back in , uh... 2025, I believe. He put Lawrence Jantzen in charge of it, but Jantzen asked me to serve on it because it had been my suggestion in the first place, and because I wrote up the original charter and most of the guidelines."

"What! Professor, that is not correct! It's in the history books: ETCC was Jantzen's brainchild."

"History books! I was there, and I remember it like it was yesterday! Jantzen never thought of anything. He appropriated just about every good idea for his own! And several bad ones, too!"

"Sir! Lawrence Jantzen was a great American statesman! I won't stand for your insinuations!"

"Insinuations, nothing! I'm telling you straight out!" screamed Saxon.

That drew a sharp rap of the gavel, and Eames said, "That's quite enough! I will not allow this session to degrade to a shouting match!"

Then a light came on in front of the congressman at the far left of the panel, and Eames looked that way and nodded. "You have a question for the professor, Congressman Walls?"

"Yes. And a statement, if you don't mind." Walls took a sheaf of notes from his coat pocket. "It is my considered belief that any agency of the United States Government must be accorded respect, because each one of these agencies—committees, commissions, bureaus—each represents citizens. And each fulfills a role that has been mandated by Americans through their representatives in Congress. I would be remiss in my role as a congressman if I didn't take strong exception to any and all who would thwart the will of the great American people. That is why I demand today that Professor Saxon and all his accomplices come clean. That is why I demand that each of these subversives begin to make amends to their countrymen; that they begin to correct the great evil they've perpetrated!

"Now, Professor. I wish for you to tell this panel just how long this deception has gone on. When did it start?"

"Guilty, huh!" said Evan. "Wouldn't it save a lot of time if you sent in the firing squad first? Or did you plan on a hanging?" Fenwick tugged furiously at Evan's sleeve.

"What?" snapped Walls.

Fenwick stood. "My client is not a well man and should not even be here today. Professor Saxon came against my advice and his personal physician's advice because he feels strongly that he and his colleagues are being railroaded. I believe, as does he, that this committee has already formed its opinions and that this inquiry is a sham for political posturing. I submit that..."

Eames interrupted with a bang of the gavel. "This is not a court. This committee's sole purpose is gathering information and nobody is being railroaded!"

"Very well, then. Professor Saxon has already provided this court—I mean panel—with a deposition that answers each and every written question submitted by your members. We also wished to supply this document to the press services but I want to make it known in this forum that Chairman Gravens ordered us not to present any information to the press before it was reviewed by HPPC. This is wrong and it infringes gravely on my client's constitutional rights to freedom of speech!"

"Now, now, Mr. ...ah" Eames stuttered while he glanced at his notes. "Mr. Fenton, this committee's procedures have been upheld by the Supreme Court, however narrowly as your client claims. So we will proceed."

"Very well, Mr. Vice Chairman. My client has already supplied the deposition that you have in your possession right now. Therefore, it is now allowable to supply this to the Press. And I believe I have enough copies for all of you." Fenwick looked back to the gallery where the reporters sat, and held up a stack of papers.

"What! I should hold you in contempt!" screamed Eames.

"You can't do that!" said Fenwick. Only the chairman can, after a vote of the entire committee, and Chairman Gravens is not here. Please note that Professor Saxon has responded to your subpoena. Now because of his extremely poor health, I am insisting that he not testify any further in person. Professor Saxon is leaving."

Fenwick helped Evan to his feet and then the elderly gentleman hobbled toward the door as spectators buzzed about this development. As Saxon and his attorney reached the door, Graven returned. Now the congressman was even less steady, but his mood had improved.

"Hey, what's going on here?" said Graven. "Is it over already?"

"Might as well be," said Eames.

* * *

Main points excerpted from Evan Saxon's deposition:

Q: (Rep. Bolind) What was your function at ETCC?

A: I began primarily as a mathematician involved in developing computer algorithms to decode or interpret the alien's language. Later, at Lawrence Jantzen's request, I became coordinator of our work with the Institute at Arecibo and President Duran.

Q: (Rep. Danson) Did you and Hank Halloran and Homer Philips conspire to deceive the social subcommittee about the nature of communications received from the aliens?

A: Conspiracy is a pejorative term that does not accurately describe the relationships between the Technical Subcommittee members and the members of the Social Subcommittee. Any institution of this nature necessarily compiles a vast amount of information, much of which is not necessary or helpful to disseminate to all members. Therefore, members or groups of members must make judgments about which information should be distributed. That was the case here, and I am certain also that the Social Subcommittee did not share every last scrap of information with us.

Q: (Rep. Papillon) Since Homer Philips is recently deceased, I can't ask him about his motives. Therefore I ask you if you know what precipitated Philips's recent divulgence about the nature of communications to and from the aliens and his statements that seem to amount to a confession of conspiracy?

A: About ten years ago, we in the Technical Subcommittee understood that aliens plan to visit Earth. That startling fact necessarily changed all facets of ETCC's work. Homer Philips immediately informed the Social Subcommittee and the new chairperson, Lena Dickerson, at that time. Because of concerns about how the aliens might be received, the Technical Subcommittee (specifically Homer Philips) suggested that another agency be formed to study how best to promote human/alien interaction. Dickerson formed the Alien Anti-Bigotry Commission and Philips was appointed head of AABC. Homer Philips's statements, which were published just before his death, were not any sort of "confession" about withholding information since Norden and her group have had that information for at least ten years. Since AABC has only recently begun to publish passages from the communications, I can only believe that Philips intended to clarify statements that had been leaked by Helen Norden and her staff.

Q: (Rep. Fannin)

1. Was any person outside the Technical Subcommittee of ETCC privy to the content of communication between aliens and ETCC?

2. Did Lawrence Jantzen or his successor ever receive this information?

3. Was Jantzen aware that the messages designed by the Social Subcommittee were never transmitted?

A:

1. President Duran of Puerto Rico and several members of his staff had access to all information received from or transmitted to the aliens since his institute transmitted and received the messages.

2. Lawrence Jantzen and John Billings both received copies of most alien transmissions, but not all. See the answer to Rep. Danson's question above.

3. All messages designed by the Social Subcommittee were transmitted. From conversations I had with President Duran, I expect much more emphasis was placed on transmitting messages designed by the Puerto Ricans than by the Technical Subcommittee of ETCC

### 27

July 23, 2112

Vidscreen reports about the alien globes came up from several points across the country at almost the same time. Globes were seen streaking across the sky of several states at an altitude a few meters higher than the tallest buildings and trees. Confused witnesses reported as many as twenty globes near California, and about a dozen over Kansas, but only six were seen in West Virginia. Three globes finally hovered over the White House front lawn one hour and fourteen minutes after the first reports from Arizona.

President Litton had been alerted that aliens seemed to be traveling to Washington, and now she sat in the Oval Office watching the alien arrival on a wallscreen. The three globes stood motionless for a good three minutes atop the pencil-thin streams of fire. Three circles of charred grass appeared under each and sparks soon floated away on the light breeze. As she watched the damage to the lawn, Litton couldn't decide whether to be angry or frightened. At length, she decided she was both.

Outside, White House Guard Captain Arthur Carey called the front guard squad together and ordered them to cover behind one of the stone facades that had been built on either side of the old structure. He ordered two of his squad to keep watch while he instructed the rest of them. "Remember," he said, "your laser weapons—pistols and shoulder guns both—are not effective against the globes. Both the beams and the ion trailers—but especially the trailers—are known to reflect off the globes so they are probably are more dangerous to us and innocent civilians than they are to the aliens."

"Then what do we do if they attack?" asked a young guard corporal.

"From what I know, the globes are probably unarmed," said Carey. "That doesn't mean the aliens aren't dangerous, though. We just don't know what they may be able to do. We do think the aliens themselves will be vulnerable if they come outside but we won't attack them unless there is some overt aggression. We'll just have to play it by ear so stay alert and watch me for orders."

"Something's happening!" yelled one of the guards. "The fire went off and they settled down on the lawn!"

"Oh, Lord! I think that means they're coming out." Carey's voice cracked. "I've got to confront them! Holmes, Adams, and McHenry—I want you to cover me. Holmes takes the one on the left and Adams has the middle one. Mack, you take the one on the right."

Carey scrambled over the facade and, followed closely by the other three guards, approached the aliens. Carey stopped about three meters in front of the center craft and the other three stayed a few steps back. Soon, a small dark spot appeared on each globe, on the side nearest the guards. As they watched nervously, those spots grew to cover about the front third of each globe. Then the dark spots turned clear and the aliens were visible inside. And the odor that wafted toward them on the light breeze told them the globes were open.

"I think I'm going to vomit," said McHenry.

"Please don't," said Captain Carey.

Alien goo then flowed from each globe onto the lawn and aliens followed, leaping into the rippling heaps and absorbing it all back into their alien bodies. Awestruck, the guards almost didn't even notice the piercing noise at first. Then each began to grimace. "Oww! That hurts my ears!" said Holmes. Adams and McHenry nodded agreement.

As soon as the last alien had completed the process of recombining its body, all the aliens began moving. The alien wearing the silver communication gadget led and the other two followed sloshing along abreast. "Halt!" yelled Carey. "You may not proceed without permission!" The aliens stopped immediately and stood absolutely motionless. "Are you the leader? The one with the translator, I mean?" asked Carey.

The aliens remained motionless for a few nervous seconds before starting to move again, obviously toward the front entrance of the White House. "Halt!" yelled Carey. "If you move without permission, you will be shot!"

Then the alien with the translator turned slowly until the translator faced Carey. "Are you leader of the humans of the United States of America, upon whose portion of the Earth's surface we have landed?"

"No. My function is to guard our president. You may not see her without her permission."

"Then obtain her permission. Be quick."

"Keep your shirt on! I'm calling now." Carey slipped a small comphone from his pocket and pushed the alert button.

"I have no shirt. I have no need for a shirt," said the alien.

"Yeah. I know," said Carey. He glanced over his shoulder at the front of the building. "Come on! Somebody in there respond!" Carey knew the guard staff inside likely all were watching the security vidscreen with rapt attention and were not even aware of the comphone buzzer. Then someone answered, and Carey said, "They want to see the President! Somebody has to notify her!" Then after a short pause, he said, "Yes. Of course, I realize she's on top of the situation.

Carey spoke to the alien again. "Our president will be speaking with me momentarily."

Then the comphone beeped and the captain said, "Yes. Captain Carey here... Yes, Ms. President... Yes, Ms. President. The aliens here wish to speak with you personally... No, Ma'am. I don't think they should go into the White House. I think you will find their, ah.... body odor excessive. You probably couldn't get the smell out for a long time." Carey glanced up at the aliens to be sure they were staying put. "Yes, Ms. President. I will inform them." Carey put the comphone back into his pocket.

Carey spoke to the aliens again. "Our president will be here shortly to speak with you."

Very soon the front entrance opened and a small personal floater came out, carrying President Litton. Carey stepped back and whispered something to the president before she went to meet the aliens.

"Are you the leader?" asked Litton. "Or do you represent your leader?"

"Veezee has no need for leader. I am many. We are one. We are not like you."

"Then with whom will I deal when I have business with Veezee?"

"You may speak with any Veezee. We are not like you. We are one."

Litton shrugged her small shoulders. "Of course I can see you're not like us. We didn't expect you would be. But I can count, too. We can plainly see three of you here and I know there are probably millions more."

Captain Carey caught the president's attention and whispered, "I don't think that's what he—it—means. I think it's some kind of political unity thing."

"Yes that's probably it," said Litton. "Do you mean you're one because of political unity? Is that it?"

"No," said the alien. "I am not political because I am one. There are two Veezee. I am one."

Litton sighed. "Okay. Maybe we'd best pass on that subject. What is it you want?"

"I wish for your army not to attack us. I want to leave my camp. I want freedom."

"I cannot grant any of that just yet. Believe me, I wish I could, but I am responsible for the safety and well being of our entire nation. I am afraid that I cannot grant you freedom until I know more about you, because you seem so extremely dangerous to us and all of the other creatures on our planet."

"I will teach humans about Veezee," said the alien, "but first you must not interfere with our travel."

"Not now," said Litton. "We must learn more about you first. Go back and tell your leader that, or the oldest Veezee or whoever is in charge. Now I'm losing my patience. You leave now, and go back to your camp. And don't any of you come back until you're willing to obey my directives!"

Without another word, the aliens returned to their globes. Each alien squirted its inside substance into a globe before the skeletony part of each jumped inside. The globes closed, then the thin flames came down again, lifting the alien vehicles just off the White House lawn. And then they were gone with a startling whoosh.

Only when the aliens had gone did President Litton notice the whole episode had been recorded by a battery of reporters who were giving the people of her nation and most of the world their first glimpse of aliens.

* * *

President Litton spent the next few minutes composing messages for heads of state around the world to inform them about the encounter. She sent the messages and then she called her entire cabinet into emergency session.

### 28

Aug. 1, 2112

"Negotiate, hell! What's to negotiate?" said Ed Halloran. "Are you sure that's what it said? Here—let me see that!" Marilee Sharp surrendered the piece of paper to Ed, who stared at it in disbelief. "This can't be something off the secure channel? This looks more like what Arlene would come up with than an order from the president!"

"Yes, Ed. It seems crazy but I took it myself. Why don't you call the White House and verify it?"

Ed stomped back to his desk and jabbed at buttons on his com-panel. The first presidential aide transferred his call to a second aide who reluctantly agreed to summon President Litton. And Ed fumed for several minutes before the president's likeness finally appeared on the wallscreen. Then he listened incredulously as she explained why she had written the directive.

"The country is split into two camps," said Litton. "First, there are those who fear and loathe the aliens. That's you and me and everybody like us. But on the other hand, there are those people who have heard cockamamie theories about the peace-loving Visitors for so long that they believe all that manure."

"We have Arlene to thank for that."

"Primarily. But she is not alone. Did you realize that about a third of the Senate and almost half the House members are advocating complete accommodation with the aliens?"

"No, Ms. President, I didn't know it was that bad. But even that's not a majority in Congress, and you set administration policies."

"It's worse than that, actually," said Litton. "Our majority is crumbling. Even the cabinet voted 27-22 in favor of exploring ways to accommodate an alien presence. So that's what your job is: to find out what it takes for us to coexist with aliens, even if it means giving them some room. Please give it a good shot, Colonel. The only other choice I have is to let Ms. Sisk's group handle it."

"No, Ma'am. We couldn't let that happen. I'll try my very best," said Ed.

* * *

The group organized to visit the alien camp was Ed and Marilee, Major Baines, and five junior officers from Baines' battalion. They took four high level floaters. All the floaters except the one that carried Ed and Marilee were equipped with repeller cannons. And all the troops except Ed were armed with the infrared laser pistols.

Major Baines' floater, driven by Lt. Taylor, led the group. Ed and Marilee followed in the second floater. The soldiers in the last two floaters were assigned to guard the convoy from the sides and rear.

They followed the deserted highway from Flagstaff to Needles. Then at Needles City Park, Baines turned them northwest across the desert to the alien camp, or at least where the alien camp had last been seen on a Veeto patrol. However, this camp was quite vacant when Ed's group arrived. The huge depression was still there, but recent heavy rain left water standing a foot deep where the camp had been, even though all the water had either run off or soaked into the ground outside the camp.

"That's just some more ecological damage," said Marilee. "Everything is gone where their camp was, all the animals, plant life and everything. All gone!"

"I wonder if it can ever be restored," said Ed. "I just don't know."

Marilee apparently didn't know either. She silently guided the floater in line behind the major's vehicle as the major led them in a long circle about the abandoned camp. Then the major suddenly veered off to follow a faint trail that Marilee probably would have missed. She had to swing the floater back around and speed up to catch up with Major Baines' vehicle again. And the two floaters at the rear went through similar gyrations getting back in the convoy.

They followed the trail about ten kilometers before it disappeared. Baines' floater slowed and circled back around the group. When it stopped, the others did too. Baines' voice cracked over the comphone. "Colonel, it just plays out here. It looks like there may have been a couple dozen aliens slithering along until here, but the trail just disappears."

"Maybe they were picked up," said Ed. "Maybe there were extra globes that came after them here."

"I think you're right!" said Baines. "I see some charred spots like the globes leave when they hover. Crud! That means they could have gone any direction and we don't have a trail."

"Could we get the Veeto plane to patrol?" asked Marilee.

"I think that would be a good idea," said Ed. "What do you think about that, Major?"

"I'm calling Searles right now. In the meantime, we'll head for the perimeter. If they're going to try to get out, it makes sense they'd be moving toward the perimeter."

The major's floater took a sharp turn and accelerated, and all the other vehicles fell into line. The major did not take a straight path. He veered off course to check every gully and depression that might have hidden aliens from view. But they found no evidence of aliens before they approached the guard perimeter. Ed was somewhat worried about the sentries firing on the squad when they suddenly appeared but he was relieved to hear Baines call to inform the outposts of their arrival. As they passed the outposts, soldiers stood at attention and saluted each vehicle.

Then Major Baines called again. "Report from the Veeto, Colonel. They've spotted the new alien compound and it's not far inside the perimeter. Position is five kilometers inside and twenty west from here. Are we taking this whole group in, Colonel?"

"To the edge of the compound, yes," said Ed. "Then you and I go in to talk to the Old Boy Veezee. The last two vehicles stay outside the compound but we go in. Marilee and Richie stay in the vehicles. If anything happens to the major and me, your orders are to get back across the perimeter immediately. And report to the president."

"Yessir!" said Marilee. Ed also thought he heard some kind of acknowledgment from Richie Taylor, but he wasn't sure.

* * *

The new alien camp was about the same size as the first, but this camp was guarded by globes that were stationed all around the periphery. These globes were larger than they had seen before, and they were not quite the same color, Ed thought. While the others had been silvery colored, these were light gray and had a very dull appearance. Also, Ed noticed, there was no gap larger than a couple of meters between globes.

Marilee stared at the globes. "What? Those are not the same! How do we get in there?"

"Don't know," said Ed. "Let's see what Baines thinks."

Ed keyed the comphone and called the major, but all they got in return was a loud burst of static. Ed keyed the comphone again and said, "Please repeat, Major. We just got a bunch of noise that time." But again the speaker erupted with a startling buzz.

Then Baines' floater moved around beside them. When Ed saw the other gullwing door come up, he opened his door. "Let's back off somewhere to talk about this," said Baines. "We're never going to get through all this static."

They all followed the major back a couple of kilometers from the alien camp. When Baines called them again then, they still heard static, but they could understand Baines. "I can hear you now," said Ed, "but it's still noisy. Let's get out and talk."

"Roger," said Baines, over the static.

Marilee and Taylor set their vehicles to hover and Ed and Major Baines stepped out onto the ground. "How do we get in there, Major?" asked Ed.

"The only two ways are through or over," said Baines. "I vote for going over the top."

"Do you think they'll let us?"

"I don't know. They're hard to figure. But I've got a plan."

"Good, because I don't," said Ed. "Let's hear it."

"First off, we create a diversion. Three floaters—all the rest of the squad—they all go back there the way we just came. They had to know we were there so they'll be watching right there. Now Lt. Taylor leads the squad right close to the aliens, making several passes. All the while, we'll head up that deep gully—arroyo—on the other side of the camp. When we get there, we just pop up and go over at high speed."

"Yeah, that will probably get us in. Then what?"

"Beats me. What we do in there is your business, Colonel."

"Um huh. I guess it is. I'll figure out what to do when we get there, I hope. You'd better fill the troops in on the details."

Major Baines called the younger troops out and told them of the plan. Then he added the contingency, "If we aren't out of there in fifteen minutes, go back to Kingman. Call headquarters, but not until you're a few kilometers from here. Also, if you see any unusual action developing, same instructions: get away from here!"

"Just in case, who are you leaving in charge if we don't come out?" asked Ed.

"That will be Lt. Taylor."

Richie Taylor perked up, but Marilee's eyes flashed. Then she looked away quickly when she noticed Ed was watching her. She thinks she should be next in line, thought Ed, but she'll get over it.

When they got back in the floaters, Ed took Richie Taylor's place with the major in the lead vehicle and Taylor got into the floater with Marilee. The three floaters with the younger troops started back toward the camp but Ed and the major took off in the opposite direction until they reached the gully.

"You don't have a laser gun, do you?" asked Baines.

"Nah." Ed nodded. "I don't want one. No better than I can see, I'd probably be more dangerous to you than the enemy."

"But I'd feel more comfortable if you were armed," said Baines. "There's another pistol in the crate behind you."

"I suppose," said Ed. He took a pistol from the box and looked at it. Except for being somewhat heavier, it didn't seem much different from the plastic water pistols he'd played with as a child. "These things sure don't look like much to be so dangerous."

"Yeah. That's for sure. Do you know how to use a laser pistol?"

"No. I've never even fired a gun."

"Hah! Some colonel!" chuckled Baines. "You're the only troop in your whole army who doesn't use a gun!"

"Maybe I won't have to."

"Well, I certainly hope not, too! But if you do, you turn the safety off first—that's two little buttons, one on each side. You have to push them both up at the same time and there's a timer that turns it off if you don't use it in about three minutes. Then you just point it and pull the trigger. Don't aim it; just point and shoot."

Ed stuck the pistol in his belt just as they reached the end of the gully. The major took the floater up and headed it toward the row of globes at the edge of the alien camp. Then, just before he was going to zoom up and over, the line of globes separated right in front of them, so Ed and Baines went right into the camp unobstructed. "My gosh! They were expecting us anyway!" said Baines. "They let us come in here.

Baines slowed the floater to a crawl while they looked about them. Then three globes approached, small silvery ones this time instead of large gray globes like the ones that guarded the outer edge of the camp. One globe hovered briefly in front of their floater then moved away. The other globes moved behind them and moved in like they were herding cattle. "They want us to follow that one," said Ed.

"So I guess we will, said Baines.

They followed to the approximate center of the camp, where they saw one large silver globe surrounded by the smaller ones. "That'll be the oldest Veezee," said Ed. "That's the one we'll have to talk to." Then the tier of globes separated and Ed and Baines drove right up near the large one. "I presume this is the front side," said Ed.

Baines left the vehicle on autohover a few centimeters above the ground, and the two old soldiers climbed out and stood in front of the large globe. The globe opened in the same way they'd seen before, revealing one putrid alien who wore a silver disk on a belt.

Ed spoke up loudly. "I am Colonel Halloran of the United States Army and I bring greetings from our president. Are you the Eldest Veezee?"

Scratchy sound emanated from the disk. "I am Eldest."

"Very good," said Ed. "I'm here today with a proposal from President Litton. She is willing to grant you some additional room if you are willing to concede to some minor conditions that happen to be very important to us."

"What are the conditions that your president wishes to impose?"

"First, our president will allow you to expand your range to the north of this location, in the areas where the people have already been killed by your rocket fumes, but you must wait until our burial crews have tended to the bodies of all the victims. They must be properly buried."

"Since the humans are already dead, why would your president impose this condition?"

Ed sputtered. "Because... because you aliens are known to be eating the corpses! That just is not acceptable!"

"That is an unreasonable condition," said Eldest. "Veezee know very well that many species on your planet eat lesser beings, and it is normally after the victims are dead. We know that humans eat the flesh of lesser beings regularly."

"What!! Listen to me, you stinking bag of crap! Humans are not lesser than anything but God. And we don't intend to allow you filthy...!"

Baines grabbed Ed's arm. "Hold on, Ed. Don't lose control!"

Ed could feel his face getting warm and his heart thumping. "Okay, I'll try. Now, there are other conditions. Aliens must send representatives to Washington to deal with our government on all issues, including when you may move into any new areas. There can be no more than three. They must be escorted by our army and they must not park their rocket globes anywhere except in designated areas.

"And the last condition our president imposes is that all aliens except your representatives must go back inside our guard lines. We know that some aliens are outside these boundaries now and they must return until it is permitted to expand your area."

"Are those all the conditions your president requests?"

"Those are orders, not requests," said Ed. "That is all for now but there will undoubtedly be new conditions imposed even as there will certainly be additional freedoms allowed when we learn more about you."

"Now there are conditions Veezee must impose," said the Eldest.

"No, no, no, no!" Ed's voice rose as he responded. "Aliens—or Veezees or whatever you scum call yourselves—you are in no position to impose anything! This is our country and our planet and any resistance to our laws will be considered an act of war! You will suffer the consequences!"

"Hold on there, Ed! Don't lose it!" said Baines. "You're supposed to just say your piece and let's get out of here!" Baines was looking around at the aliens that had surrounded them during the exchange, including the aliens that had come between the humans and their floater.

Then Ed saw what frightened Baines and his breath grew even shorter, to the point that Ed was becoming a bit dizzy. A large group of aliens surrounded them and was closing in around them. "Uh oh, Major! I'm not feeling too good. I'm way too old for this sort of thing!"

Then the Eldest Veezee spoke again. "Veezee will send representatives to your Washington, but there will be more than three. It is required that Veezee be no more than 320 Earth kilometers apart so that all Veezee may think the thoughts of the Eldest. We will place three Veezee at each point and humans must not attack them."

"No, wait! That's way too many," said Ed. "We can't allow that many aliens across the country."

"Come on, Colonel! Agree to it and let's get out of here!" said Baines. "It's going to be moot anyway if we can't get back to the floater!"

Ed looked around. "Very well. I will stipulate that and I think President Litton will agree to it. Now, we are going to leave so we can report back to her. Have your representatives report to our outpost station nearest here and wait for escorts. We will guarantee safety for them if they make no threatening moves or try to go without escort."

As they turned toward the floater, Ed saw Major Baines take his pistol from its holster and push the two safety buttons, so he did the same. As they moved toward the floater, the aliens moved back but left barely enough room for them to get through. "Wait a minute, Major," said Ed. "Don't get too close to them. They have stingers!" Ed turned back to face the Eldest Veezee. "Please tell them to move so we can get to our vehicle."

The aliens moved about half a meter. It was still not enough room to suit Ed and he held back, but Baines started on through. Ed's heart jumped when he saw the thin alien arms unfurling and reaching for Baines. Ed pointed the pistol at the alien nearest Baines and pressed the trigger. There was a bright flash and that alien collapsed into a pile of quivering muck. Then Ed shot the next one and the slimy substance from that one ran completely across Ed's path. Baines jumped away and reached the floater but Ed was stuck, trapped between converging aliens and the spreading, stinking puddle of alien goo. Just for an instant, he considered trying to jump over the puddle but he saw the floater rise over the aliens and come toward him. "Grab on!" yelled Baines, and Ed hooked an arm over a strut. The floater went slowly up about ten meters then started accelerating away from the center of the alien camp. Only when they had gone several hundred meters out of the camp, did Baines let the floater settle down so Ed could get off the strut and crawl clumsily into the floater. Ed sprawled back across the seat.

"What now, Colonel?" asked Baines.

"Get the rest of the troops and let's get back to Kingman." The world seemed like it was closing in on Ed, and he gasped for breath. "Hurry! I think I'm having a heart attack!"
29

Aug. 2, 2112

President Litton was very unhappy with the reports. First, that Halloran and Baines had to shoot their way out of the alien compound, killing some aliens in the process, was bad enough. But even worse was the news of Ed Halloran's heart attack. Arlene Sisk brought the disturbing news via the special comphone circuit from AABC. It also disturbed Litton greatly that it seemed—to the president, at least—that Sisk actually relished bearing the bad tidings.

"What did I tell you before about Halloran's dangerous macho mentality?" Sisk had asked. "And now his health is another problem! I'm telling you: you ought to make the army back away from this so AABC can do its job."

So Clarice Litton sat alone in the Oval Office, weary of bearing this unexpected and unwanted burden. It wasn't supposed to have been like this, she thought. Like a majority of citizens and like almost every public servant, she had bought into the premise that aliens would bring only good things to our world. They were supposed to bring new ideas and new technologies. They were supposed to teach us how to care for each other. They would even teach humans how to copy their perfect civilization that had no trace of bigotry or prejudice.

That last part was the problem. Humans all over the world were prone to prejudice, to bias against others who were different, and everybody knew it even if some people wouldn't admit it. So naturally, upright and correct people feared that widespread prejudice about the aliens—The Visitors—would cause problems and that led to the formation of AABC, whose purpose was education. AABC would eliminate bias against The Visitors before it ever developed.

There had always been a few nay-sayers. Mostly it was the crackpots and cranks who warned that aliens might not be all they claimed to be—or what AABC claimed, since aliens actually gave little real information about themselves. Of course, very few of those people were in the government because agencies naturally hired only people who were sympathetic to the cause for which the agencies were established. The few exceptions were people like Ed Halloran, hired because of connections. Most of the people in AABC who were wary of aliens kept quiet about it, because they all knew that expressing contrary thoughts would stifle a career.

That's the way the public's ideas about aliens had been nurtured for about all the years Litton could remember. So it was natural to expect the public sympathy that was building for The Visitors, the hunger that people had to actually see and hear and talk with The Visitors. Even people who were apprehensive about the aliens had a profound curiosity about them.

But if The Visitors brought even a small portion of the good that had been claimed, it would be wrong to deny it from the world. On the other hand, what if the aliens came to conquer, to pillage? Was it possible they would try to eliminate the human race from the Earth? And why did the aliens leave their own planet? Did they pollute and destroy it so it was no longer habitable? Or perhaps they were not peaceful after all, and these were forced away. Clarice Litton cried and sighed. Her frail shoulders bowed under the great weight. And yet she feared to relinquish any of the load, for she judged between those who were hostile to the aliens and those who favored complete accommodation. Hardly anybody wanted to walk the cautious path she followed.

* * *

Everett Lane was at the Kingman Army Base when he took the president's call. An aide summoned him to the conference room with the large wallscreen, and President Litton's weary face already stared down at him.

"Are you alone?" asked Litton. "I want this to be a private conference."

"We will be in just a moment." Lane waved the aide away, and when the door was closed, he spoke, "Yes, Ms. President?"

"I'm thinking of another reorganization, and I don't want it to come out wrong. I also don't want to give the wrong impressions to anybody. I want your carefully considered advice before I do anything because I believe your thinking is probably more like my own than anybody else's."

"I hope so, Ms. President."

"Before I do anything, I want to know how Colonel Halloran is doing. Have you heard from him?"

"Yes, Ms. President. Ed—the Colonel—is doing surprisingly well. They really have some amazing medicines today. Ed had an injection as soon as he came back into Kingman yesterday and his heart started healing immediately. His doctor says he is actually in better health now than before the heart attack."

"That's great! But is he able to come back to work any time soon?"

"I'm not sure about that. Ed says he feels good and wants to come back right now, but the doctor wants him to stay off a few more days if there is any chance of excessive stress."

"I'm happy to hear that—at least the part about staying out of action, I mean—because it will make it easier to do what I have to do."

"Which is?" Lane's eyebrows arched.

"Which is that I want somebody in control who will be willing to walk the middle. Everybody except you and me holds extreme views. Halloran doesn't trust any aliens and Sisk believes they are wonderful but misunderstood. Either view may be the most accurate, but I expect the truth will be somewhere in between. I think I want you in control, Mr. Lane."

"In control of what, Ms. President? The army or AABC?"

"Of both, Lane. I'm going to create a new cabinet position for alien affairs. Halloran will report to you and so will Sisk. Will you agree to take the job?"

"Of course, I will," said Lane. "How do you want to break the news to Ed and Arlene?"

"I'll take care of telling them. I want you to get started figuring how to deal with Congress."

* * *

Ed Halloran had just been released from the hospital, but not from his doctor's care, when the president called about the reorganization.

"Does this mean I'm relieved of my command?" wondered Ed.

"No, not at all. I consider you to be irreplaceable in your position, but the army and AABC will both report to me through Everett Lane. I have heard the reports from your doctor, though, and I want you to take a few more days off for your own good. Lane will take direct command while you're off. I will get your complete cooperation, I expect."

"Well, I suppose, Ms. President. It's your decision so of course I'll cooperate."

"That's great. Now while you're recovering, why don't you come on up to Washington for a visit?"

"Is that an order? If it's not, I'd rather stay around here."

"No. You don't have to come." The president's face faded from the wallscreen almost before she had finished speaking. Ed saw her expression change just before she was gone and he wasn't quite sure whether she looked more tired or annoyed.

* * *

Before Ed left the hospital, his doctor suggested that he needed exercise. Specifically, he recommended that Ed walk for a few minutes several times a day. So Ed began taking walks around Kingman Army Base, and after a few days he started walking farther. Sometimes he would walk a half-mile or so away from the compound and he would take the laser pistol with him for target practice, usually shooting at rocks or junk. After a few such excursions, Ed decided that he had progressed enough to be somewhat more dangerous to the enemies than to himself.

It was on one of those short trips away from the base that Ed saw the alien globe. A ray of sunlight reflected off something behind a picket fence around a deserted house near the base. At first, Ed wasn't sure what caused the gleam so he walked closer. Then he got a brief glimpse of the globe before it suddenly spouted a thin stream of flame and sped away around the house and out of sight.

Ed's heart thumped and he could feel the adrenalin flow building. _My gosh, I hope_ _that heart medicine works!_ He started to look around the old house for aliens but then quickly reconsidered. It would be much better to get back to the base and have Major Baines organize a search around the area. Then he got another glimpse of a globe, that could either have been the same one or another. Almost without thinking, Ed pointed the laser pistol and squeezed the trigger.

For a few seconds, nothing happened and Ed worried that he had attracted attention to himself by the shot. But then the globe suddenly shot high in the air and careened off toward the base. A ragged column of smoke marked the place where the alien vehicle had crashed.

By the time Ed got back to the base, a crowd had gathered around the crash site where the globe had demolished a parked floater. The crash had ruptured the floater's fuel module and set it afire. Of course, all of those who watched the blaze watched from the upwind side because burning alien substances were many times smellier than live aliens.

Marilee Sharp was not at the crash site when Ed got there, but she arrived minutes later. "Ed! Do you know what happened? Why did it crash here?"

"I guess I caused it. I spotted it outside the camp and fired on it. Never dreamed it would come down in here."

"Well, you might as well go see Mr. Lane," she said. "He sent me to find out what happened and tell whoever was involved to report to him. I sure never thought it would be you!"

* * *

As it turned out, Everett Lane was almost more concerned about Ed killing the alien, than about the alien's skulking about just outside the base. They had a long discussion about response to alien excursions, but came to no agreement. Ed favored stationing guards well outside the guard compound and ordering them to destroy any aliens or alien globes that came near, but Lane did not approve.

"Ed, things have got to change. It's the political thing, you know."

"How can things change?" asked Ed. "Aliens have been ordered to stay within the old perimeter except for their agents. We have to consider any other move as hostile! We have to protect ourselves and the country from them!"

"The orders have changed, Ed, but they weren't changed by me. It comes straight from the top. If some aliens come out of their lines and there are only a few and they don't seem to be threatening, then we leave them alone. We watch them the best we can but we don't do anything."

"That's from the White House, you say?"

"That's right. That's President Litton's direct orders."

"That's hard to believe," said Ed. "I thought she was stronger than that. I never believed she would cave in to Arlene's group like that."

### 30

Aug. 9, 2112

Marilee Sharp was given charge of the company sent to escort the alien representatives from their camp. As had been agreed, enough aliens would be allowed outside so they could establish their communication chain all the way into Washington, but each group of aliens had to be accompanied by a contingent of soldiers. Also there would be enough aliens to make the chain zigzag around any major population areas. Now Ed Halloran and Major Baines watched from the background as Marilee gave instructions to the troops under her command.

"This whole thing scares me," said Ed. "Once we start letting them out, will there be any controlling the rest of them?"

"No," said Baines, solemnly. "There's no way. Actually they could all get out now if they knew it. If they just lined up and went out as fast as they could, we might nail a few but we couldn't stop them."

"They don't know that, I guess," said Ed. "But they will when that communication chain gets out. They'll realize what our true strength is and they'll see it's all concentrated right here."

Then they both glumly watched Marilee's company load into a long convoy of floaters with 1st Lt. Marilee Sharp in the lead. At the very end of the convoy rode Lt. Richie Taylor.

"Colonel, do you think this was a wise choice, putting Sharp in charge?" Baines asked suddenly.

"Marilee is as smart as anybody in the whole army," said Ed. "And she's got a whole lot more common sense than most. Why do you ask now, after they're on the way?"

"Oh, I didn't mean anything about Sharp's qualifications. I guess I'm more concerned about Taylor than anything. He thought he should have been given the command, and he seems peeved. And I've heard some of the other troops complaining to each other that Sharp got it because of her association with you."

"Why, that's ridiculous!" said Ed. "Besides, these people are soldiers. They get orders, not explanations."

"That's all very true," said Baines. "Anyway, we should be worrying more about the aliens than our own troops."

Then the two old soldiers watched silently as the convoy disappeared into the distance. That didn't take very long since floaters travel very fast, even in convoy. After the convoy was gone, Ed said, "Lane is already talking about disarmament. Did you know that?"

"That's an absolute mistake to even think about disarmament right now! What brought that up?"

"Congress is getting into a pacifist mood, and of course AABC has always believed their own crap anyway. All the other governments are beginning to show signs of giving in and now even our own cabinet is beginning to waver. According to Lane, cabinet members are basically afraid of aliens. They don't want to accommodate them, but they're also afraid of Congress and AABC."

"Huh! Gutless bunch, aren't they!"

"It looks that way to me," said Ed. "I guess it's understandable in a way. In the whole history of the world, there's no precedent for something like this, so how is anybody supposed to know how to handle it?"

"The real question is how we're going to handle it," said Baines. "Are we going to roll over and play dead for them?"

"Just a minute! What are you saying?" Ed stared at the old soldier.

Baines returned his steady gaze. "What I'm saying is we shouldn't disband, even if ordered."

"But... But, how? The constitution won't allow us to disobey direct orders." Ed walked away, not believing what he was hearing. Then he turned back to Baines. "You know what you're saying is treason!"

"I don't think so," said Baines. "I don't think so at all. I believe it's the only sane, patriotic thing to do."

Ed thought silently about Baines' notion for a few minutes until he began to feel a bit unsteady. He reached for his pills and took a couple. Then as an afterthought, he swallowed an extra one. After a bit, the pills took effect and Ed began to feel much better. And Atkin's idea began to sound better to him. "I guess you've figured out how we're going to pull this off?"

"No. Not altogether, but I have some of it. It boils down to three things."

"And what are those?"

"First, we have to figure out who is on our side. That's mainly in the army I'm talking about, but probably also some civilians. Next, we have to swear them to absolute secrecy. We can't do this if any of it leaks. AABC and the wimps in congress would kill us in the media and the courts. And then, we have to stash our weapons somewhere before we're ordered to disband."

"There are more problems than that," said Ed. "Like, are we supposed to operate in the open or be a guerilla group? And how do we support all this if the government isn't paying for it?"

"Hey, I don't know all the answers!" said Baines. "I've just started thinking about it. You could come up with some of the answers yourself—or just courtmartial me for treason and get it all stopped now."

"Nah. I'm not going to courtmartial any old geezer like you. There's not any way to threaten somebody like you or me with prison, or even hanging. We don't have enough years left for it to be a major concern anyway."

"Then I'm getting started with it. I'll discreetly find out who would probably be with us and then I'll show you the list before I talk to anybody else about it."

"One thing—and this is real important," said Ed. "Look at the personnel records and cull anybody connected with the media. We've got some former reporters in the ranks and they're already leaking information. Just one leak would kill this whole scheme!"

* * *

It was Saturday and most of the soldiers who weren't on guard duty or alien escort service had been given passes. And every one of the soldiers on pass had gone to Albuquerque for a weekend of rest and recreation. Albuquerque was the farthest destination allowed on a weekend pass. The few soldiers who were left on base were the ones that Major Baines had recruited already for the Resistance Army.

When Ed wandered through the camp on his daily walk, he came on to a scene of feverish activity. Most of Baines's Resistance soldiers were re-crating weapons. Crates that had held twenty-four laser pistols were being repacked with only a dozen, and crates of a dozen laser shoulder weapons were being reduced to only six. The extra guns were then being repacked into large food boxes. Major Baines grinned when he saw Ed watching the activity.

"You don't waste any time do you?" said Ed. "I thought you were only going to think about it for a while."

"I thought about it and I decided there's no time to waste. The way things happen, we could be ordered to disband at a moment's notice and then the country would be left completely vulnerable."

"Where are you going to stash the weapons?"

"That is a secret," said Baines. "I know a good location but only you and me and about two of these troops are going to know. It's safer that way. I'll tell you before we get them moved."

Ed left for the rest of his walk and returned a half an hour later to find soldiers loading the boxes into two large transport floaters. When he saw Major Baines, he called him aside. "Okay, where are the guns going?"

Baines looked around to see if anybody could overhear. "We're taking them to Texas. My brother has a business with a warehouse in Lubbock. It's already about three fourths full of boxes that look like these."

* * *

Ed had never seen metropolitan Lubbock, though he'd read much about it. An important banking and business center, it was still a place hardly anybody went to unless they worked there or had relatives in the city. In the center was the historic old city, with its business district and a couple of college campuses. The campuses were well maintained and neat, but the rest of the central city had decayed and much of it was abandoned. Then there was the new business district that completely encircled the old city. It consisted of glass-covered skyscrapers that glared painfully in the Texas sun. Housing tracts stretched for miles in all directions. The flatness of the terrain under the clear blue sky gave this city an illusion of existence in a large shallow bowl.

Major Baines' brother Samuel owned a large older building on the outer edge of the old city and just inside the circle of skyscrapers. Samuel Baines met them at the back of the building and opened an overhead door that allowed both of the transport floaters to drive inside at the same time. The building was obviously as old as the crumbling structures all around it, but seemed in good repair. Samuel Baines was much like his building, quite old and very wrinkled but also solid. The old fellow helped the young soldiers unload the crates and stack them all along a wall on the bottom floor. Then he helped them stack other boxes in front of the weapons. If anybody ever broke in and looked in the boxes they would believe that all contained out-of-date packages of food.

After the weapons had been stashed, Samuel Baines took Ed and the major up to the second floor to show them something else. "I've had these up here for several years but I couldn't tell anybody about them, what with the gun control laws." Samuel pried up the lid of an old wooden crate, and then tore away some plastic sheet. Inside were handguns, the old-fashioned kind that fired lead bullets. It was an odd collection that included several different revolver models as well as a couple of magazine-fed automatics.

"My gosh, Sam!" exclaimed Ed. "Do you know what kind of trouble you could get into for keeping these?"

"Yeah. About ten percent of what you guys could get for stealing government weapons."

Ed thought that one over. "Yeah, but still... why did you ever do it?"

"Stubbornness, I guess. I never did like the feds or anybody else telling me what I couldn't own. Way I figure it, if I don't hurt anybody else, this is completely my own business."

Major Elvis Baines said nothing for a long time as he rummaged through the box of old weapons. Then he held one up and studied it carefully before popping the cylinder out. "Colt 45," he announced absently. "Wonder how old that is?" Then he took out another. "Smith & Wesson .38. This is an old late twentieth century police weapon." Turning to his brother, he asked, "Do you have any ammunition for these?"

"For most of them," said Sam. "It's questionable how good it may be by now, or how safe, but it's packed away sealed up and dry like the guns."

The major turned to Ed. "Let's send the young guys back to camp. I'd kind of like to fiddle around with a couple of these before we go back."

"How about we just give them a pass and send them off with one of the floaters?" said Ed.

Major Baines nodded agreement, then hobbled over to the elevator and disappeared. He returned a couple of minutes later. "They're gone already."

"Did I understand you want to fire some of these old guns?" asked Sam. "If that's the case, you'll need to take some precautions."

"Like what? If this is dangerous, maybe we should leave it alone," said Ed.

"I'll show you," said Sam, "but not here because of the noise. We'd get in trouble for sure. "Lets go out to the farm."

"Is it far to the farm?"

"Oh, no. It's about 50 kilometers south of town—about twenty minutes."

Sam Baines' farm was located on a back road and his house and barns were at least 500 meters from the nearest neighbors, but the major still worried about the noise the weapons might make. He had fired many similar weapons several years earlier and remembered them to be quite loud.

"That's not going to be a problem," said Sam. "We can fire them in the barn without anybody hearing them. In fact, we need to test them first anyway."

"Test them? How?" asked Ed.

Sam showed them the rig he had set up in the largest of his barns. He had clamps built which held handguns firmly by the handle (the stock, he called it). The weapons were set to fire into a large wad of grass that was tied together tightly with steel wire. (Sam called that a haybale.) There was a paper target tied across the haybale. "These walls are double insulated," said Sam, as he spoke of his barn with obvious pride. "Nobody outside will hear a thing."

"This is impressive. You must do quite a bit of work with these old weapons," said Ed.

"I do. It's an old hobby of mine," said Sam.

When Sam had secured a gun he called a Colt 45 in the clamp, he loaded its cylinder with stubby gray bullets and tied a long string to its trigger. Then they all stepped back into an adjacent room before Sam pulled the string. Ed was startled by the loud report of the weapon, but the Baines brothers both expected the noise and were barely affected by it. Both Baines chuckled at Ed's reaction. Then Sam Baines pulled the string five more times until the weapon wouldn't fire any more. "It's empty," announced Sam. "It's only a six-shooter."

"That doesn't seem very efficient," said Ed. "In a war, somebody could get killed while they were trying to reload it."

"That's true," said the major. "That's one of the main reasons the military all went to laser handguns. A couple of hundred shots before a recharge is a whole lot better to defend yourself with."

"It may not be efficient, but it still works," said Sam. "It didn't blow up. Since it seems to be safe, would you like to fire it?" He directed the question to Ed.

"Well, certainly. Maybe I ought to watch you do it first, though."

"Okay. That's probably wise." Sam removed the pistol from its clamp and reloaded it. "I have some ear protection you ought to wear. These old weapons can damage your hearing pretty quickly." Sam opened a drawer and took out a device that looked much like a pair of small pillows with a connecting band. He put the thing on his head so that the little pillows covered his ears. Then he gave one of the devices to Ed and another to Elvis Baines.

Ed and the major donned the ear protectors. Then Sam began to speak again and Ed was surprised not to hear a word of it. Sam pointed to a small knob on the device he wore and Ed noticed his protector had the same knob. When he turned the knob, it clicked and suddenly Ed could hear again. Turning the knob as far as it would go made Ed able to hear quite well. "You know what? I need a pair of these. I can hear better than I normally can!"

Elvis Baines had also tried the control. "Yeah, me too. But won't this make it even louder when we shoot the weapons? It looks like it would defeat the purpose."

"Nah," said Sam. "There's a compression circuit in it that makes the gun sound only like a little pop."

As Ed and the major watched, Sam Baines pointed the pistol at the target on the haybale. He held his right arm perfectly straight and braced it with his left hand. He fired three times and each time, his hand moved sharply upward a few centimeters. Then he placed the weapon down and they all went to inspect the target that had three large jagged holes all to the left of the bullseye. "I noticed your arms go up every time you fire. Are you supposed to do that?" asked Ed.

Sam laughed. "You'll find out about that. Just be sure to keep your elbows stiff and a firm grip. Don't pull the trigger real fast but just kind of squeeze it slow 'til it fires."

Ed held the gun and aimed it just like he had seen Sam do it. Then he squeezed the trigger slowly until the gun fired. The weapon surprised him, kicking back with a violent jolt. It was a good thing he'd been warned! Then he fired two more times and tried to fire it again but the gun only clicked. Ed figured out it was empty.

Ed put the weapon down and they all went to inspect the target again. It still only had three holes. "Hmm. I'm not worth crap at this. I wouldn't be a danger to anybody."

"I wouldn't exactly say that," said Major Baines. "But you just might not be any danger to the enemy!"

Ed turned to Sam Baines. "Do you think I could get one of these guns, like maybe the one we just fired?"

"I don't care," said Sam, "but you could get in a hell of a lot of trouble for it."

"I probably could," said Ed. "But I probably couldn't get any more trouble than your brother finds for me."

Sam made a gift of the weapon to Ed, along with several crumbling plastic boxes of ammunition. Ed packed it all away and the two old soldiers returned to Camp Kingman.

### 31

Aug. 18, 2112

Arlene Sisk noted with some satisfaction that The Visitors' presence in Washington elevated her importance considerably. Certainly the politicians and bureaucrats—except for AABC administrators—had no framework for dealing with Veezee. To be sure, she also had no established line of communication with The Visitors but she had at least communicated successfully with the Eldest Veezee without provoking confrontation and that was more than anybody could say for Ed Halloran and the military.

There were two opportunities for Arlene on this day. First, she would meet with the three Veezee emissaries at a secret location where she would begin to set up the framework for interaction between Veezee and the United States Government. To achieve some semblance of parity, Arlene would take two deputies with her even though she didn't need their assistance. Perhaps some secretarial help would be appropriate to record this event exactly for posterity, she thought. She could choose a couple of her subordinates who could be counted on to put the AABC in the best possible light.

Then there would be a press conference later. Arlene could expound on her accomplishments at the meeting with The Visitors, and she had invited those reporters who always wrote favorable articles about AABC. She had a handout already prepared which touted the successful exchange of ideas that she knew would come.

As an afterthought, Arlene decided it would be beneficial to have another press conference soon where the Veezee emissaries would be invited. Of course, the agenda for this would have to be closely controlled so that no confrontation or other incident could possibly mar the historic occasion. Perhaps that meeting might even be today!

* * *

Arlene Sisk, accompanied by Andersen Curvin and Melanie Royal, waited for The Visitors on a runway at the recently abandoned Dulles Airport. The airport was a rare isolated location in the Washington, DC area, but the Dulles Magport was not far away. Sisk and her proteges had taken the magtrain there and then took a high level floater from the government pool. The entrance gates to the old airport were all barricaded and locked, but the high level floater went right over the fence. Curvin, who was driving, set the vehicle down in the middle of a long concrete runway, where they waited.

Since Arlene and her minions arrived a few minutes before the appointed time she used the interval for last minute instructions. She told them to let her do all the talking, unless they were specifically questioned by Veezee. They were also reminded of the various taboos to be observed in dealing with The Visitors. They should not call them aliens and they must certainly not make reference to their physical appearance, the shrill noises they make, or their rather noticeable odor. "Above all, you must not make any comments that can be construed as specist," said Arlene.

"As what?" asked Royal. "Specist?" She pondered the new term, but Curvin was already writing it in his notebook.

"Specist," said Arlene. "You are forbidden to say anything that even sounds intolerant of another species."

"But..." Royal was about to say something else but thought better of it. The session then lapsed into awkward silence until their visitors arrived.

If nothing else, Veezee are punctual. At precisely 10 a.m., they saw three gleaming silver globes appear over the fence at the opposite end of the airport from where they had gone in. In seconds the three globes hovered atop their rocket flames right in front of Arlene and her subordinates. Then the thin flames faded and the globes settled to the pavement.

For a couple of minutes, nothing at all happened. "What's going on, Ms. Sisk?" whispered Curvin. "Why aren't they coming out?"

"They'll come out," said Arlene. "They don't move around easily."

Then The Visitors began the arduous process of exiting from their globes, simultaneously. A dark hole appeared in each globe, and then alien goo spilled from each globe onto the pavement. This was followed by the skin-and-bones part of the aliens. Curvin and Royal watched with amazement as the aliens soaked up their body substances and filled out to full size. Arlene was pleased to note that each Veezee wore a silvery voice disk. She would be able to talk to all of them.

Then Curvin clamped hands over his ears. "Oww, that hurts!"

Arlene glared at him. "What did I tell you?"

"You didn't tell me this was going to kill my ears!"

"It hurts me too!" said Royal. "I don't feel well. I'm nauseous. I'm going to..." She vomited violently, then turned to Arlene. "I can't take it! I've got to go!" Royal ran back to the floater and jumped inside and pulled the doors down tightly.

"I am so sorry," said Arlene. "I must apologize for the way my assistants are acting. I can assure you there will be no repeat of this unfortunate scene."

Then the center alien sloshed over to the puddle of vomit and spread folds of its mottled skin over the puke. When he moved a minute later, it was all cleaned up. "Thank you," said the alien in its raspy artificial voice. "That was very thoughtful of you."

Curvin suddenly realized what had happened and almost lost it too. He fought the need to vomit, and turned to run back to the floater but Arlene yelled at him. "Get back here! If you ever want to work again, you'll stand here and support me!"

Curvin returned, reluctantly, and stood several feet behind Arlene.

Arlene held her hand high in symbolic gesture. "On behalf of President Litton and the Government of the United States of America, I welcome you to Washington, DC."

The center alien spoke. "You are not the President. Do you speak for the President?"

"Yes, yes. I represent President Litton in all matters that pertain to Veezee."

"Does your president wish Veezee to fare well on this planet?"

"Of course. President Litton is very concerned about the welfare of your people... I mean Veezee."

"Then you will tell the soldiers to let us travel freely on the portion of the planet's surface that is occupied by the United States of America."

"I would like to," said Arlene. "I would really like to, but President Litton is still afraid that humans may not interact well with Veezee. I assure you that the problem is our own—the humans, that is. Certainly we don't wish to imply that Veezee are in any way at fault in the incidents where you and humans have clashed."

"The Eldest agrees completely. Veezee insist therefore that humans responsible for the conflicts be punished. The Eldest demands that Veezee be given passage to all parts of your land."

"I'm very sorry! President Litton will not allow that just yet, but I'm trying to change her mind. Believe me, I'm really trying!"

"Will you be able to change her thoughts?"

"Perhaps. But it would be more likely if you would help. And not just with the President, either. We need to change the thinking of the entire American people.

"Let's start by having you participate in a news conference," said Arlene, as she took a paper from her bag. "I have a list of questions that I believe most Americans would be interested in having answered, and also some responses that would be comforting both to Americans and our government."

"This list—is it human words attached to the surface of this thin material?"

"Yes. Of course it is. Writing words on paper is one of our prime means of communications. Don't you have some equivalent?"

"This list is useless to Veezee. Veezee are not like you. Veezee cannot see words on paper, but this is not needed for Veezee to communicate because Veezee are one. Veezee thinks one thought."

"Oh my! I didn't realize you can't even see it! Well, I'll just have to read it to you!"

"This idea is strange. Do you represent your President as you claim, or do you represent Veezee instead?"

"Actually, I represent all of us," said Arlene. "It's my job to bring us all closer together."

"Very well, then. The Eldest Veezee agrees to the news conference, so you may present your list."

"But... No one has presented this to your Eldest! How can he agree?"

"I am one. Veezee are not like you."

Arlene turned to see if Andersen Curvin was taking notes about the event as she had ordered. She halfway hoped he did not, since she had no doubt her report would be better, but Curvin held his recorder high, so that it didn't miss a thing. "You can shut that off now," said Arlene. "I'm just going to go over these notes with the Visitors now."

* * *

This would be a Media Event. It was set up in the roof garden atop the penthouse of the historic Watergate Hotel. PNN had video cameras permanently in place because this was a favorite location for politicians to make important announcements. And the view up here was spectacular. The flowers and shrubs were well maintained (many were live). Just before the news conference, Watergate employees turned on the sprinkler system briefly and this gave the appearance of sparkling dew on the plants. It wasn't Eden but it was as close as you could come in 22nd century Washington, DC.

The Watergate roof garden location had been Andersen Curvin's idea. Curvin had learned that the weather would be unseasonably warm (though still likely cold for the reporters and The Visitors) and there would be a light southerly breeze all day. So the news conference had been planned accordingly, with all the reporters and VIPs seated along the south side of the garden. With The Visitors on display in front of them, the breeze would carry away that strong alien odor so there would be no embarrassing stories written on the topic. Sisk knew that sooner or later she would have to deal with the problem of gaining public acceptance of this unfortunate aspect of Visitor interaction. She planned to postpone the problem as long as possible because she quite frankly had no idea how she would accomplish it.

The cabinet members arrived first and were seated along the two back rows. The front rows were reserved for the reporters who showed en masse a few minutes later. Their video crews were back at the PNN studio however, because this video equipment was remote controlled.

Arlene stood before the group a few minutes before The Visitors' scheduled arrival. "Before our guests arrive, I'd like to take a few minutes to make some important points. The first is that The Visitors—excuse me, Veezee—are different from humans in many ways—in ways you will no doubt find shocking, in fact. But it is very important that none of you react in any way that could be construed as deprecating or demeaning. Think about how you would feel if you had to represent humans for a panel of beings from outer space. I trust you will do all that you can to make this a helpful first meeting of most of the citizens of our world and this strange and wonderful civilization.

"Secondly, I must tell you that Veezee communicate directly with each other via magnetic brain waves. Therefore they have to use translation devices to convert Veezee thought to human communication and vice versa. Each of these Veezee will be fitted with these devices so they can speak with you. The Visitors do make sounds however, which they use to see and to navigate by some kind of built-in sonar. A few of you may find this sound to be somewhat shrill and painful. I would ask you to bear it willingly for the period of this conference.

"And the last item I would mention is that Veezee have an unusual method of exiting their rocket globes. It may be disturbing to watch but I'm telling you this so you will expect it and thus not make any unnecessary reactions.

"There is a format we have agreed upon for this meeting. Veezee representatives will present a prepared statement from The Eldest. Then they will answer questions from the group. Please understand that if I feel a question is inappropriate, I will disallow it.

"Now, Veezee are very prompt. It is almost time for the conference to begin so I expect they will arrive in just about twenty seconds."

At that, a hush fell over the expectant crowd. Sure enough, in a few seconds the three globes appeared over the wall, zipped across the rooftop, and came to an abrupt halt right in front of the assembly. The flames died and the globes settled quickly.

When The Visitors' emissaries began the procedure of exiting their globes, Arlene held her finger to her lips and signaled _shh_. But the assembled dignitaries and reporters were very quiet anyway as they watched the strange procedure.

When they were completely out and recombined, Arlene said with a great flourish, "I present to you, Veezee!"

"Greetings from The Eldest Veezee," said a Veezee. At first, Arlene couldn't quite tell which of them spoke. Then she decided that they must have spoken in unison. "The Eldest Veezee wishes to inform you many facts about Veezee.

"Veezee are a very ancient civilization, many times older than the oldest Earth civilizations. Veezee have learned much technology, but have not much need for technology. We require only food and space to live and opportunity to think with The Eldest in order to be happy.

"Veezee are not like humans. We have unity and we have no war. Veezee had no thought for war before we came to this planet. We wish no war with humans.

"Veezee wish to be free. The government of humans of the United States of America upon whose portion of the Earth's surface we have landed will not allow us to travel on the surface of this planet. United States of America soldiers attack us when we attempt to explore away from the area where we landed. It is also true at the other landing sites. We believe the government of the United States of America can influence other Earth governments to allow us to travel freely on the other landmasses.

"If Veezee are allowed to be free, we will repay humans. We will repay with teaching technology. We will repay by teaching civilization to humans. We will repay by eliminating the shameful racist and sexist exploiters who have enslaved the weak and even now seek to retain an evil grip on your institutions."

"Hear, hear!" exclaimed a dark-skinned PNN reporter whose name tag identified him as J. Ahmad. "That's telling it right!"

"Ah..." Arlene interrupted. "That is not quite what we talked about. That could be misunderstood."

The alien went on, oblivious to Arlene's consternation. "Veezee offers enlightenment for the inhabitants of this planet in exchange for our freedom.

"Veezee will soon be free anyway, because we will not be controlled by lesser beings. Then we will eat all of you and take this planet."

The last remark took the assembly by surprise. Initially shocked to complete silence, the group started an excited buzz. "What? What did you say?" gasped Arlene.

"That was joke. Veezee do not understand joke but know humans like joke. Do humans like this joke?"

"I'm afraid that was misunderstood," said Arlene. "Perhaps I'd better talk to you about humor before you meet any more humans. Not that there was anything wrong with it. It's just that humans are not understanding for the main part."

"That is all of statement of Eldest Veezee. We will now answer questions as we agreed."

A PNN reporter on the front row raised her hand. "How long will Veezee stay here?"

"Veezee must stay forever," said the center alien. "Rocket fuel is almost gone. If Veezee leave this planet, cannot land on another planet. But Veezee is happy with this planet if have freedom."

"Couldn't you make more rocket fuel?" asked a young man at the end of the row.

"Veezee could make more fuel but needs all hydrocarbons on this planet. This planet would die as did the last planet when we left."

"Whew! We can certainly appreciate that you must stay here under those circumstances! But how many of you are there?" asked Anthony Cleaver, reporter for Eastern VidChannels.

"We are two."

"No, no! I can plainly see three of you! But what I meant is how many are your total population, not just in this meeting."

"We are two," repeated the alien. "We are noble Veezee and common Veezee."

"Okay," said Cleaver. "I take it you mean there are two groups of you, but how many are in each group?"

"We are two. Noble Veezee are one, but Noble Veezee are many. Common Veezee are one but many also."

Then reporter Ahmad waved his hand and was recognized. "Which group are you guys from?"

"We are not guys. We are Veezee," said the center alien. "We are noble Veezee. They are common Veezee."

"We are common Veezee," said the other two, in unison.

"How did you get divided up that way?" asked Ahmad. "Who decides who is noble and who is common? And what's the difference anyway?"

There is no decision," said the center alien. "Noble Veezee are born to think and rule by the thoughts of The Eldest. Common Veezee are born to serve. Common Veezee are lower species."

"Hey! That sounds like... Well, it's not democratic," said Ahmad. "We fought wars to get rid of... "

Arlene interrupted. "I'm afraid that's a subject we'll have to drop for now. I'm sure it can be covered at some other session."

"We will tell you now," said the alien. "It is what humans call symbiotic. It is like when Earth animals of different species interact positively. It is not like the evil slavery which even now some attempt to install anew into Earth institutions."

This could get out of hand, thought Arlene. "I believe we've covered quite enough for the first session. I wish to thank our guests for this remarkable event and I promise all of you that we will hold another educational session soon. I would suggest that each of you prepare questions in advance of the next session so that I may organize the topics for most efficient coverage."

Cleaver waved his hand vigorously. "Before this is over, could we examine those globes more closely and perhaps observe their operation? We really didn't get a good look when they came."

"That's up to our guests," said Arlene. "If they would like..."

Andersen Curvin tapped Arlene's shoulder and whispered, "Not a good idea, Ms. Sisk. Remember the smell."

But it was too late. The center alien pointed skinny fingers at Cleaver and said, "That human may come forward and observe the globes."

All three globes opened simultaneously and the three aliens squirted their goopy inner substances inside, before bounding into the open hatches. Then Cleaver stepped up and reached out to touch one of the globes just as the rocket flame started. He jumped but when the globes hovered in position a few centimeters over the roof, Cleaver placed his hand on the nearest. "Wow! That is unusual! It tingles! It feels like it has a charge!"

Arlene was surprised when the roof caught fire from the rocket exhausts almost simultaneously under the three globes. Flames and smoke boiled up around the alien vehicles and Cleaver fell back in shock. Then the three globes, each obviously carrying a dead, fried alien, shot upward several meters before crashing back down to the roof. Flames roared where the globes had started and then the roof caught fire where the globes crashed. "The sprinklers!" shouted a PNN reporter. "Somebody turn on the sprinklers!"

Almost at once, water sprayed everywhere and soaked the assembly. The fires were soon extinguished, but Arlene cried. "No! No! No! We've killed them! It wasn't supposed to be like this! We've killed them."

"It wasn't us, Ms. Sisk!" said Curvin. "It was an accident! We didn't do it!"

Then all the reporters saw Arlene Sisk. The sprinklers had washed away all of the cosmetic paint, and she was quite green—perhaps not as deeply green as she had been before, but she was still shockingly green.

"Ms. Sisk, your makeup is gone," said Curvin quietly.

Arlene held up her arms and stared. Then soaked, shivering reporters and cabinet members began to crowd into the elevator. Soon, only Arlene and young Curvin remained in the roof garden. As Arlene sobbed, Curvin noticed the red light still gleaming from one of PNN's video cameras. It had transmitted this whole sad affair to the nation and was still focused on Arlene's agony. Curvin picked up a chair and threw it at the camera.

### 32

Aug. 20, 2112

"I want you in Washington immediately. Come straight to the White House," said President Litton.

"Yes, Ma'am," said Ed. "Right away. I'll take the first train." Even if he hadn't seen Litton's grave expression on the wallscreen, the tone of her voice told Ed this wasn't an optional trip. Something was up—probably something very bad.

The nearest magport was at Flagstaff, so Marilee Sharp drove Ed there in one of the high level floaters. It was a quick trip since there was very little highway traffic between Kingman and Flagstaff any more. Before aliens came to the planet, this had been a busy thoroughfare. Repellers bumped almost continuously then, jostling drivers and their passengers, but now the only ripple either of them felt was when Marilee happened to let the floater get a little too near the side of the road.

It was different in Flagstaff, though. As long as the aliens stayed in southern California, nobody felt like moving out of Flagstaff. Traffic was heavy all across the city but particularly near the magport. In that area, drivers all turned their repellers to full strength and drove aggressively. Bouncing off the repeller beams made Ed almost seasick.

"You know, this is almost like a different world," said Ed. "People here are almost oblivious to the fact aliens are no more than 300 kilometers away."

"I think they know it," said Marilee, as she maneuvered the floater into the right lane to get to the magport. "I think it just hasn't registered on people here. It's amazing when you think about it, because the whole east coast is in such a complete dither over whether the aliens are getting out into the country."

Then they were into the magport and Marilee found a space near the Departure Entrance where a sign said "No Parking—Hover Only". "I'll let you off here since you don't have much luggage."

"Good enough," said Ed. He raised the door and stepped out, taking his overnight bag with him. He went inside and went straight past the ticket to the counter where the sign said "Government Passage".

"Good morning, General," said the young woman behind the counter. "Where to this time?"

"It's Colonel, but thank you for the promotion anyway. I'm going to Washington, DC."

"We're full up. What priority do you have this time?"

"Level one," said Ed. "I don't have a choice about going."

"Very well, but somebody's not going to like getting bumped." The woman manipulated some keys on her terminal. Then she smiled and handed him the pass. "Car two."

* * *

Ed took his seat and looked out the window. Snow covered the ground outside, and drifts were swirling everywhere so that a person couldn't see very far. "My gosh, but that does look real!" exclaimed Ed to the man in the next seat.

"Sure does," said the man. "I could almost forget it's August outside."

As the train began to accelerate, Ed settled back and tried to relax, but he couldn't. There was just too much to think about. First, he was sure aliens were out of the compound. And it wasn't just the aliens in the communications chain, either. He was quite sure from the intelligence reports that several alien globes were zipping everywhere around the southwest at high speed. If anybody saw one and realized it, they would just assume they were seeing one of the aliens permitted outside. But then, Ed wouldn't know the difference either if he saw one outside. All the globes looked exactly alike to him, with no identifying marks at all, and so did the aliens. How could anybody tell one of those bags of manure from another?

Then he caught himself staring out the window again. The very realistic landscape was passing by at a leisurely pace, not the hundreds of kilometers per hour the magtrain must be going by now. Then Ed saw a child, a boy of six perhaps, playing in the snow apparently only a few feet away from the train. Ed waved before he even thought about it. The child smiled and waved back and Ed grinned broadly too. Then he realized how absurd that was. There was no child playing outside in the snow. Reality was that he was riding a magtrain at around 800 kilometers per hour through a tunnel bored deep underground and it was sizzling southwest summer up on the surface.

Ed saw the passenger in the next seat was watching him, quite amused. "Yeah, it got me," Ed mumbled. "I don't know how they make that seem so real. The last time I rode the train, the scenery was good but it had no depth to it like this."

"It's holograms," said the other passenger. "I know because I work for the mag authority. We just got it upgraded. The technology has been around for a long time but it's always been too expensive 'til lately. Now we have people riding the train just for the view. We'll have tropical islands in the winter."

"You know, I could have sworn the kid in the view saw me and waved back when I saw him. Could that have been?"

"Sure. That's a takeoff on some old virtual reality technology. Don't tell anybody, but there are sonar sensors in the seat and in the wall that can tell if you wave at a character in the scenery and cause a reaction."

"How do you know so much about all this?"

"Like I said, I work for the authority—chief engineer for the southwest lines. I installed a lot of this stuff.

"You said something about sonar. Is that anything like the sonar they say the aliens use to get around?"

"Exactly. Probably." The mag engineer smiled and waved at a figure appearing outside the train. "I get a kick out of this too."

"I'm curious about something," said Ed. "Could you make some kind of generator that would put out false sonar signals to confuse the aliens?"

"You mean The Visitors—excuse me—Veezee?"

"No. Actually I mean aliens. That stinking scum has no business here, the way I see it and I don't intend to pander to their little egos."

"Oh. That's the way I feel about it too, but for a while there I thought you were probably a government agent of some sort. The idea of those things running loose everywhere scares the soup out of me, but I've learned better than to open my trap too soon. I did once before and wound up enduring a thirty hour course on Visitor Sensitivity—and that was before those things had even arrived!"

"Hey, I am in the army but that's not quite the same thing. Now back up just a bit," said Ed. "On that sonar thing—could you build something for the army? Something that would do a real number on the aliens?"

"I think so. Maybe I could do something by combining sonar transponders and our virtual reality software. I bet I could make one of them think he was somewhere else entirely."

Ed took a pad and pen from his pocket and wrote his name and the address of the Kingman Base, and handed it to the other passenger. "This is how to get in touch with me. I'd really like to talk about this more sometime soon."

The engineer looked at the paper before he folded it and stuck it in a pocket. "My name is Victor Herman. You can reach me most of the time at the Magport Authority office in Flagstaff.

Herman got off at Oklahoma City, but Ed thought about the conversation for the rest of his ride. Ed smiled at the thought of a machine that would have aliens sloshing around and knocking each other down like comic show characters.

* * *

Everett Lane was at the White House meeting with the president. So was Arlene Sisk and two of her subordinates. Also the Secretary of the Treasury, Arnold Medgars, and a couple of cabinet members whose names Ed could not remember.

"We have a situation," began President Litton. "You all know about the unfortunate accident, I'm sure." Everybody nodded seriously and Litton continued. "Now I'm hearing the Oldest Veezee is accusing us of killing their agents on purpose. That is ridiculous and we told them so but they apparently don't believe it."

"Ms. President, does it matter if they believe it? After all, we didn't invite them to the Earth. It seems to me like they ought to be trying to get along with us, not the other way around," said Ed.

"Not true! Not true!" said Arlene. "We did in fact invite them here but it was more than fifty years ago."

"So? We've changed administrations a couple of times since then. Besides we couldn't see what they were really like until they got here."

"Ed Halloran! That is all quite beside the point! Now I hold that we owe them some special consideration after all that's happened. And especially after that tragic accident at the Watergate."

Medgars broke in. "Those are exactly the thoughts of the cabinet. We're also afraid they're going to lose patience and come storming out of their lines, and then where will we be?"

Ed was incredulous. "Is that true, Ms. President? Are we just giving up to the aliens?"

"Not aliens! Call them Veezee!" snapped Arlene.

"I'm sad to say it seems we are," said Litton. "What a way for a president to be remembered! I lost the nation to a bunch of alien monsters!"

Arlene bristled at Litton's comment but kept silent.

Then spoke one of the cabinet members whose name Ed could not recall. "What I think is we should make a good faith gesture. Let's allow a larger number of them to travel. Send the army down there to oversee letting about a hundred thousand Veezee off the reservation. That will give them something constructive to do for a change anyway."

"What!" Ed sputtered. "You cowardly bureaucrats don't have any sense! That won't make things better at all! We'll just lose control of the whole situation because nobody will even know how many aliens are out! Who could tell?"

"I agree with Colonel Halloran," said Litton. "Let's keep the lid on it as long as we can."

"So do I," said Lane. "I think we should let a few more out under controlled circumstances, mainly just to quell some of the public curiosity. We should insist they leave those rocket globes though, and take the transportation we offer."

Tempers flared as the meeting went on. Accusations bounced around the room until President Clarice Litton had had enough. She ordered that no more than ten aliens be allowed to visit, or rather set up residence, in every major city in the U.S. Per her order, those few aliens would be allowed to take their rocket globes for transportation after a course on travel safety to be presented by AABC. ( _After all, you wouldn't want an alien riding in your floater. Would you_?) She ordered army squads stationed near each group of aliens and that AABC offices in each city would coordinate interaction between aliens and local officials and between aliens and citizens.

President Litton also decreed that alien would no longer be considered a dirty word.

### 33

Aug. 27, 2112

Alien presence in the cities was big news across the nation. The fact that only ten aliens were allowed in each city allayed many fears. Since there was no fear, curiosity swept over the populations, with the arrival of aliens in each city drawing large crowds. It was the same in Albuquerque when Lt. Richie Taylor and a squad of soldiers escorted ten aliens in their rocket globes to their new home.

The alien home in Albuquerque consisted of a circular depression in the ground, about 200 meters across and a meter deep. City officials had suggested erecting a roof shelter on columns, but the aliens rejected this offer. They insisted they preferred to be outside unless it rained, and then they would go into their globes. Another suggestion, to install drains or pumps to remove rainwater, was similarly rejected.

An area had been roped off for spectators so people could watch when The Visitors arrived. Per AABC directive, the spectator area had been located so the prevailing wind would carry odors away from the crowd, to eliminate the possibility that crowd reaction would spark another ugly incident, like what happened at Shreveport. It was agreed that if the wind changed, the arrival time simply would be postponed. As it turned out, the planning hadn't helped. There were at least a hundred thousand people gathered in Albuquerque to see the aliens and they filled all the open space for several blocks from the compound in every direction.

The crowd was waiting when Taylor's convoy arrived. Two army floaters led the parade. Ten alien globes followed next. Two more army floaters completed the procession.

Taylor used his sound projector to warn the crowd back. "Your attention please! Move back and allow room for The Visitors to enter the compound. Please stay behind the ropes so The Visitors will have enough room to dismount from their globes."

The crowd reluctantly gave the floaters barely enough room to pass. It still seemed to Taylor that his vehicle's side repellers were pushing people back as the convoy passed through the crowd. Then as the first two floaters cleared the crowd, it surged in toward the rocket globes.

Regrettably, two children had been pushed into the path and were burned by the globes' rocket exhaust. Taylor could see the children in his rear-view screen as they ran screaming so he knew their burns weren't fatal, but he couldn't know how seriously they were injured. Nor could he get back to see about them so he ordered the troops in the last floater to tend to the children. In a few minutes, he saw the floater rise above the crowds and speed off to a hospital. He'd check on the children by comphone as soon as the aliens were out of their globes and the crowd was under control.

Although many people caught at least a glimpse of alien rocket globes as they passed, only a few would actually be able to see the aliens dismounting. To Taylor's thinking, these would be the unlucky ones, since he had already witnessed aliens coming out of their globes. Besides, cameras of local video stations were set up circling the alien compound in small remote floaters. Everybody at home would be able to watch clearly on their wallscreens without having to experience the smell.

Taylor's floater and the other two remaining floaters were joined at Taylor's request by Albuquerque police vehicles. These were high-level floaters that came over the crowd to join Taylor's troops circling the compound to keep the pressing crowd away from the aliens.

The aliens came out as they had the other times, fluid first. Then an excited roar built up as people craned to see the aliens but, on the downwind side especially, the roar turned to sounds of disgust as the odor drifted through the crowd on the light breeze. People began to push to get away as quickly as they could, but it was only a few moments later that the smell drifted all the way to the outer limits of the crowd and people began to leave at the perimeter. Soon there was a headlong rush to get away from the areas that lay to the north of the compound. Taylor believed that some people possibly were injured, and called for some of his troops to follow the crowd. When it was confirmed that five had been trampled, ambulance floaters were called in to assist.

"This is not working out real well, is it?" asked Corporal Frank who drove Taylor's floater.

"About as well as we could have expected," said Taylor. "Now I don't want to but I have to get out and greet and introduce them."

Taylor took his sound projector with him when he stepped out of the floater. He turned to the crowd and said, "Please join with me in welcoming Veezee to Albuquerque. It is the desire of the United States Government and the Eldest Veezee that your acceptance of these visitors will signal the beginning of a new era of peace, mutual cooperation, and learning about each other.

"Now I must tell you that some rules have been established both for your safety and the safety of The Visitors. First: no humans are allowed in the compound. We hope this may be changed at some time in the near future, but it will be vigorously enforced for the time being.

Secondly, Veezee leaving the compound will always be accompanied either by army or AABC personnel. You are asked to allow Veezee the space they need and not to try to interact personally until we have all learned more about each other. AABC promises to allow Veezee access to news media so that we may all be informed.

"Now I'd suggest that all of you go to your homes immediately after we have welcomed our guests because a news conference is scheduled for two p.m., less than an hour from now. You will all be able to see and listen to the interview while most of you certainly will not be able to if you remain here."

Taylor turned to the aliens and said, "Welcome to the City of Albuquerque. It is the wish of the citizens of this city to get to know you and the rest of Veezee as soon as possible."

Only one alien wore a voice translator disk. Taylor held his sound projector so this one could speak. "Thank you and your government for allowing Veezee come to this place. It is desire of all Veezee to be free. Please ask your President to allow Veezee to be free."

Then Taylor spoke into the sound projector. "There will be nothing more until the interview which is only a few minutes away, so please return to your homes now."

Much of the crowd started leaving then, particularly those who were farthest from the compound. Also many of those who were nearer, but got an occasional whiff of alien odor, struggled to get away through the crowd.

Then quite unexpectedly, a small dog darted from the crowd into the compound and started yapping at the aliens and a little girl started to chase after her pet until the people at the rope grabbed her. "Bippie! Bippie, come back here! Please!" cried the girl. But the dog ran around and around the aliens, barking shrilly.

Taylor tried to grab the dog but the aliens moved to surround it so that Taylor couldn't get to it, or even see it. In seconds the barking stopped. In a couple of minutes the aliens moved away. Bippie's bones were all that remained. "Thank you," said the alien with the disk. "That was very good gift."

The crowd murmured and the girl screamed and Taylor could feel the situation getting away. He yelled into the sound projector, "Leave now! Go to your homes immediately! I order all of you to leave!"

Troops and Albuquerque police moved to start forcing the rest of the crowd back, and in a few minutes the crowd was all gone except for a few stragglers. It had not been an auspicious beginning at Albuquerque.

* * *

Lt. Richie Taylor watched the interview from his parents' living room in their Albuquerque home. He noticed the aliens were just as ugly on the video wallscreen. However, having been at the front lines at the greeting, he knew alien ugly wasn't nearly as bad as alien smell. So it was a little easier to hear what everybody had to say.

Local reporter Vallee Sertane and two of her counterparts from nearby cities interviewed only one Veezee. Sertane chaired the interview, which was held in a neighborhood park. He first scheduled the event to be conducted in the local video production studio, before he received advice from several people who had been present at the greeting that an outdoor setting would be more appropriate.

Several microphones and two video cameras, controlled remotely by studio personnel, hovered around the reporters and their guests. The reporters sat in a row of park chairs, with Sertane in the middle, while the alien stood in front of them. One of the cameras stayed focused on the alien while the other maneuvered for a favorable shot of Ms. Sertane when she began to speak.

"Good Afternoon, video viewers," she began. "I'm Vallee Sertane of Vid-Al News and I'm accompanied by Shane Elgar of Ruidoso Vid and Tandee Barrett of Tucumcari Information. And of course, our special guest is from the Veezee compound. We bring you today an event of historic proportions, the first-ever local interview with a visitor from outer space. I will begin with a question for our guest, then Elgar will be next, followed by Barrett.

"Before we begin, I must say how pleased we are that you would grant us this opportunity to gain rare insights into such an obviously advanced civilization."

Sertane smiled painfully. (The wind must have changed.) "For our viewers, please tell us your name."

"I am Veezee," was the raspy reply.

"No, no. I'm sorry I wasn't clear. I meant more specifically, what is your individual name?"

"I am Veezee. We are Noble Veezee."

Sertane's thin eyebrows arched in quizzical expression. "Do you mean you have no individual identity?"

"Veezee are many but Veezee are one and two, noble and common. Veezee know who. Names are useless to Veezee. Veezee are not like you."

Sertane was still puzzled, but she gave up on it and nodded to Elgar.

"You tell us you have no individual names. Is it true that you have no individual thoughts, that the Oldest Veezee thinks for all of you?"

"Noble Veezee thinks only to serve The Eldest."

Barrett spoke next. "Tell our viewers something we've all been wondering about. Why did Veezee come to our world?"

The alien stood still and silent while the reporters waited. And waited.

"Are all the Veezee gone from your previous world?" asked Sertane.

Again, silence.

Elgar and Barrett looked puzzled but Sertane was getting riled by all of it. "Have you decided not to share with us after all?"

"Eldest Veezee says there will be answers for those questions tomorrow. Eldest will tell the answers to Arlene Sisk, representative of the President of the United States of America, upon whose portion of the Earth's surface we have landed."

"Then is this interview over?" asked Sertane.

"Other questions are permitted for this time."

"What are Veezee's plans for the future, now that you are on our planet?" asked Elgar.

"Veezee will live. Veezee will teach. Veezee must be free."

Now Barrett frowned. "How can you say your peo... Veezee are not free since there is so much space in Southern Cal to do your own thing? After all, none of us has unlimited access to the world. We must all respect the space of others who occupy a space first."

"Veezee must be free to occupy space that is not occupied. Your president must allow it. Please ask your president to allow us to be free."

"How do you define being free?" asked Sertane. "Doesn't being free still include following some rules?"

The alien was silent again.

"Oh, well!" said Sertane. "We don't seem to be getting anywhere! Why don't you give your statement from The Eldest and we'll save the rest of it for another time."

"Veezee have studied human history and find that it has many blemishes, and that it is racist and sexist. We know that human civilization is scarred from wars and that this planet suffers from pollution caused by humans. Veezee know that strong humans exploit and enslave weak humans.

"Veezee have none of these problems. Veezee are only noble and common and have no equivalent to human race. Veezee have no sex. Veezee have no war, only perfect unity in thoughts of the Eldest. Veezee does not pollute but strives to perfect.

"Veezee have been always free before your government enslaved us. Please demand that your president make us free."

The park scene faded and a pair of studio commentators picked it up. One commentator was a middle-aged woman wearing a dark suit and a bland face. The other, a tanned thirtyish man with perfect hair and perfect teeth adopted a serious expression for the viewers. "Good afternoon, Albuquerque—and the nation, in case this is being carried on the network. My name is Eric Mile for Vid-Al and I'm here to discuss the alien interview with Lupita Garza who is professor of anthropology at University New Mexico.

"I'm sure Ms. Garza will have some insights for us, from an anthropological viewpoint, and I have some thoughts about the political ramifications.

"First, I must say these creatures touch a nerve with us. Freedom is the most important underlying principle of our nation, and Veezee truly yearn to be free. How can any one of us wish to deny them?

"But I must also admit there are problems to be solved first. And I fear that some of these problems may not be easy to resolve." Mile paused for effect and looked worried for the camera. "The first problem, as I see it, is that this relationship of Noble Veezee to Common Veezee certainly does sound like slavery to me." Mile glanced at Garza, hoping for support on this point.

"We'd have to study that some more," said Garza. "How can we say that any aspect of Veezee life is comparable to an aspect of human life? For now, I think we must go with what they say about it."

Mile arched one eyebrow as he thought about the response. He had wanted more help. "Then there some other problems, but one in particular may stifle human-Veezee interaction. How much longer can we ignore the fact that those things stink? How on Earth can we expect anybody to share their neighborhood with anything that smells like that?"

* * *

"Well, that fellow Mile is sure in trouble now," said Richie Taylor, as he switched off the video wallscreen.

"Why is that?" asked Taylor's father.

"Insensitive comments. This business about aliens stinking will just get him assigned to a thirty hour AABC sensitivity course. And he'll have to take it or he'll get jerked off the air permanently. I'll bet he winds up making a public apology."

### 34

Sept. 21, 2113

Arlene Sisk declined the invitation to be seated. She preferred standing when making a point, especially if the other person was seated. She leaned on the president's desk. "It has been a month now and nothing bad has happened. I say it's time we allow them more room," said Sisk. "There's plenty of unoccupied land so I don't see what the big problem is."

"Sit down, Sisk. You make me uncomfortable pacing around like that and I don't like you leaning on my desk either." After Sisk sat in the plush chair, President Litton continued. "It is not true that nothing bad happened. In six different cities, people have been injured in the crowds around the aliens. In five more cities, people have moved out of their neighborhoods en masse for obvious reasons. And don't forget those two children in Albuquerque who were seriously burned."

"Okay. Some bad things happened because people were at fault, but we'll see that they don't happen again. In the first place, most of the problem was because of the huge crowds. Now they're tapering off because most people who wanted to see Veezee have already seen them."

"I agree it doesn't take long for people to see as much as they want to, so the crowds are indeed declining. And I think we can probably keep children away from the rocket globes from now on, but that still doesn't help the poor people who had to move away from their homes."

Sisk started to jump up from her chair, then settled back down. "Ms. President! We will never have full profitable interaction with The Visitors if people don't get over their insensitive attitudes! Those people should never have been allowed to move!"

"So now people have to lose their freedom just to protect alien egos?"

"Everybody has to give up a little bit for the greater good of the nation. There can't ever be total individual freedom in a democracy anyway."

"The way I see it is, it's not a democracy when people have no say at all."

"Then you're not going to allow the orderly integration of Veezee into our society? What are we to do? Keep them fenced into the desert?" Sisk got up to leave, without being dismissed. "There are other ways, you know. Congress is a lot more sympathetic than you are, and we haven't even tried the courts yet."

* * *

Marilee Sharp and Everett Lane stared at the line of alien globes following AABC floater escorts along Highway 40, but Ed Halloran stared glumly at the paper he held. "Litton was dead set against it! How could this happen?"

"Court order," said Lane, tersely. "Judges in DC ordered the administration to start letting the aliens out into the country. They even gave us some numerical goals, but I don't know how we'll control it."

Ed was also wondering how they would know when 5 million aliens were settled across the country, as he watched the line of globes filing by in a blur. Then he saw the line disappear as globes shot off into all directions. They weren't following their escorts and what was anybody going to do about it? Shoot them? He knew the answer to that already.

Ed knew this was Arlene's doing, although certainly indirectly. Since she reported to a cabinet member, she was a member of the administration so she had no basis to sue the administration. However, she was part of a well-established network of quasi-scientists who purported to be expert in alien matters. One or a group of them had sued, but Arlene had instigated it.

Then Ed realized Lane had been speaking to him while he was deep in thought. "I'm sorry! What? What did you say?"

"I said let's take the veeto and see if we can track where the aliens are going."

"Okay." Ed turned to Marilee. "Get Searles on the comphone. Tell her we'll meet her at the plane."

"Yes sir." Marilee was off quickly to get to a phone, but still managed to get to the veeto before Ed and Lane. It was only a couple of minutes before Searles arrived.

"Is it serviced and ready to go?" asked Lane.

"Yes sir," said Searles. "Come aboard and tell me where you want to go."

When they were all seated, the aircraft rose in a cloud of dust. After they were up, they could see the cloud drifting northeast across Kingman Base. Ed thought to himself that they would need to move the veeto's landing pad over to the other side of the base so it wouldn't blow so much sand into the base.

"Where to?" yelled pilot Searles.

Lane pushed his blue button and silenced the cabin. "Swing over to Highway 40 and pick up the alien globes. Then let's try to see where they're going."

High in the air, they could see a trail of globes coming but it thinned before it got nearly to Kingman. Sparkles of sunlight gleaming from the shiny globes came from all directions. They were generally heading east, but fanned out from northeast to southeast.

"This is terrible," said Marilee. "How are we supposed to control this?"

"We can't," said Lane. "I think that was the whole idea."

"Well, I know what we're going to do," said Ed. "The army is going to go to work developing defensive strategies. I believe we're going to have to fight to take back our country."

"Our whole planet," added Marilee.

"That's very true," said Lane. "All the other countries with landing sites are expected to follow suit. The Australians already have and Siberia will probably announce accommodation tomorrow morning, their time."

They followed alien globes into New Mexico and Colorado. No community was without a contingent of aliens. Also, most large farming operations attracted alien presence. Dairy farms seemed to attract the largest number of aliens.

"Oh no!" said Lane. "I don't like the looks of that! Does anybody know what aliens are supposed to eat?"

"No," said Marilee. "The judges or AABC or anybody—nobody's given any thought to it. I suppose they'll take whatever they want!"

"Not if I can help it!" said Ed. "I'm going to get the troops armed and out into the countryside to protect the population!"

* * *

News coverage confirmed their fears. That evening, aliens and their appetites dominated the news. It started out not so badly. A restaurant in Boulder, Colorado reported that aliens opened their garbage bins and ate all the trash and spoiled food. The restaurant's patrons all left because of the odor, but the aliens left when all the garbage was gone.

But other reports were more serious. Several cows were reduced to piles of bones at dairies in New Mexico and there were reports of unusual numbers of animal skeletons in wildlife refuges. Aliens apparently were devouring wild animals without regard to ecological status. Also troubling were the reports of missing pets in cities where aliens had gathered.

Following a long series of dire pronouncements, Eastern VidChannels reporter Anthony Cleaver hosted Arlene Sisk in a program aimed at educating Americans into accepting Veezee presence with a minimum of conflict. The program started with Cleaver's introduction of Sisk (who was already becoming familiar to most households anyway by this time) followed by a prepared message from AABC about how all must sacrifice—contribute—to the goal of integrating Veezee into our society so that we might all profit from their vast experience. This was followed by a question-and-answer session with Cleaver asking the questions.

"Excuse me, Ms. Sisk, but doesn't your message sound like what we always heard before the aliens—Veezee—arrived? It seems as if we should have learned a bit more now, so the message could reflect reality."

"Of course we learn all the time!" snapped Sisk. "But the basics of interface with a different civilization doesn't change! We've studied them for years before they arrived!"

Cleaver appeared uncomfortable in his role, but continued. "Certainly that's true, but it's my assignment to take the adversarial position here—be the devil's advocate, as the old saying goes."

Sisk nodded. "That's a quaint way of putting it, I think. But whether or not you or anybody else agrees, it doesn't change our basic responsibilities as citizens to take Veezee in and make this all work. After all, they are our guests."

"There are some who maintain that Veezee are not welcome guests, that they weren't invited, and that we'd be better off if they left."

"That is an antiquated, nationalistic, reactionary, bigoted way of thinking. If there is any substantial segment of the population who honestly feels that way, then we in government haven't done our job well enough. We'll have to redouble our training efforts, until there is no longer a citizen unwilling to take on the responsibilities required by our society."

"There are others who say it isn't the government's place to push this on the public, but instead to be ruled by the public."

"Of course that's the basic concept," said Sisk. "But the majority has already decided to accommodate Veezee in their quest for freedom."

"Was there a referendum?"

"Not in the formal sense but, yes, there has been a referendum. We in government know how to take the pulse of the public in order to lead where the nation wants to go."

"Well, let's get off that," said Cleaver, glancing down at his notes. "I'm sure much of that is moot, now that Veezee have diffused into the nation. It's pretty well agreed that we couldn't put it back the way it was if we wanted to."

"That's very perceptive."

"Now, Ms. Sisk, let's go over some basic points. First, that citizens should not react at all, except to give a moderate clearance, if Veezee around them don't happen to be wearing a translator disk."

"That's true. However, we are recommending that people speak to Veezee who are equipped. They should avoid saying anything that is demeaning or has a negative connotation, especially about any unusual aroma they might notice. And above all, they should avoid saying anything that could be construed as specist."

"Certainly. Now it is also obvious that Veezee have to eat just like humans." Cleaver had a thought and giggled. "Well, maybe not just exactly like humans. But they do have to eat something. Now I hate to bring this up, but they seem to have some trouble identifying what is a proper food source."

"Yes. This is an area where we'll have to be more helpful in the future," said Sisk. "They have just spent equivalent to a century and a half of Earth years in space, and they must have had a very limited diet. We'll just have to help them. Perhaps we'll need to set up an infrastructure supported by a government agency to help them get started."

"And to keep them from eating our livestock and pets," said Cleaver. "One thing another AABC administrator recommended today is that people keep their pets safely maintained in their homes for the present. Particularly small animals like cats and dogs."

"That's true. It's probably a completely unnecessary precaution, but there have been a couple of unconfirmed instances where Veezee were suspected of having, uh... unwittingly eaten someone's pets. I cannot emphasize strongly enough that this is most likely a completely erroneous conclusion, but we are recommending that pets be kept away from Veezee for the present."

"I must stress that this thought is entirely my own and doesn't represent any position of this station or AABC, but it seems likely to me that if Veezee eat pets because they don't know better, then there might also be great danger for human children. Parents should watch their children closely and keep them away from aliens."

Arlene Sisk was livid. "Mr. Cleaver! That was demeaning, specist, and absolutely uncalled for! There has never been any evidence that these peaceful beings pose any danger at all to children. You have just provoked totally unnecessary fear among the public, and you owe an apology to Veezee and the American people!"

"What! I didn't say they eat children! All I said was that parents should be careful!"

"Nevertheless, it's apparent to me that you owe us all an apology and also that you need sensitivity training," said Sisk.

"No way. I don't work for you, the aliens, or the government!"

"But your station is licensed," said Sisk. "They may be worried about how this little episode will look on review."
35

Oct. 26, 2113

Ed slept fitfully, only dozing for a few minutes at a time when his exhaustion reached its limit. It had been this way most nights since the aliens first came to Earth, and he was particularly wearied after his capture. And sometimes sleeping was worse than insomnia, when he dreamed of being caught in the alien globe.

This night Ed thought he'd have to see his doctor on the next morning. Maybe the doctor could prescribe something to help him sleep. Then he thought maybe he didn't want to sleep all that badly unless the doctor could also prescribe medication to make the nightmares go away. Like this particular nightmare, he thought. This one seemed especially real. He could smell the stifling stench of an alien presence.

Then suddenly, Ed realized he was awake. The smell was real, in his bedroom. He lunged for the bedside lamp and almost knocked it off the nightstand before he got it turned on. The room, though light, was blurred because Ed couldn't find his glasses, but he didn't need the glasses to see the alien that stood at the foot of his bed.

"What're you doing in here? How did you get in, you filthy slime?" Ed rifled through the nightstand drawer looking for his laser pistol. "I'll get you, you stinking..." The gun wasn't there. Ed rolled out of bed and hobbled into the next room when he remembered where he left it. Then he returned to his bedroom with the gun, but the alien was gone. The smell wasn't gone, though.

Then Ed was wide awake. He wasn't a bit sleepy, but his heart pounded much too hard. Ed found his glasses on the other side of the nightstand where he'd knocked them off, and then he went to the bathroom to find his heart medicine. He took a couple of the pills and within seconds his pulse rate was getting back to normal.

As Ed's nerves calmed, he began to think clearly again. He picked up a comphone and called the base headquarters office, where he knew someone would be on duty. When a corporal answered, he asked for the lieutenant in charge. Then when the lieutenant answered, Ed ordered him to get an armed squad over to Ed's quarters.

Ed put on his pants and shoes then and, with the pistol in hand, began searching through the house. It wasn't hard to see where the alien had been, because it had left a slimy trail on the floor—like a garden slug, Ed thought. The trail led from a window that had been left open a few inches. There wasn't enough room for a human to get in, but there obviously was enough room for an alien minus its body fluids to squeeze through. It was clear to Ed that the alien had come in at the window because there was a large green stain on the carpet where the alien had squirted its body fluids in. It seemed to have gone back out at the same window.

As Ed stood looking at the stain, he heard the door chime sound. The squad had come. Ed greeted them at the door, ordered the privates to search around the outside of the house, and invited Lieutenant Beran inside. While Ed was showing the lieutenant the alien trail through the house, they heard the privates yelling outside. Beran raced to the door and Ed followed as quickly as a man his age could.

Out on the back lawn, the soldiers had surrounded an alien. Moonlight gave the alien a ghastly pallor, and when it reflected off the translator disk, it made the alien look like the mythical Cyclops. "Shall we shoot it, sir?" asked a young soldier.

"Not just yet. I want to question that fungus first." Ed turned to the nearest private. "Bring me a chair from the house. I'm too tired to stand up out here."

In a minute, the soldier returned with a chair. Ed put the chair in front of the alien, assuming the voice disk side was front. Then he dropped heavily into the chair. "Okay now. We're going to get some answers here!

"First: who are you? What is your name?"

"I am Veezee. We are Veezee."

"Don't give me that crap! What is your individual name?"

"I am common Veezee."

"No better!" shouted Ed. "There are millions of common Veezee! What is your individual name? How can I tell you from the rest of them?"

The alien was silent.

"Huh! Tough question, I guess," said Ed. "But I'm sure we can get that later. Why were you in my house?"

"Veezee wish to help humans. The Eldest Veezee commands it."

"Listen to me, you stinking manure pile! You don't come into my house—ever! I don't even want you close to my house and this is a United States Army base! No alien can come here without my explicit authorization and you're not going to get it!"

"You are Colonel Halloran, are you not?"

"I'm asking the questions here! This is my base! You will be held in detention until you answer my questions! Now, who are you and what are you doing in my house?"

"Veezee have not names. I am second oldest common Veezee. Eldest Veezee commands me to assist Colonel Halloran, who I believe you are."

"Listen! You go back and tell that old boy big chief Veezee that I don't want your help and I don't want you in my house and I don't want you on my army base! I don't even want you in the same world with me!"

"Veezee must obey The Eldest. I will assist you."

Ed started muttering obscenities under his breath, while his heart began to race again. "If I can't get rid of you any other way, I guess I'll just have to let the troops shoot you. They already wanted to."

Lieutenant Beran stepped up almost between Ed and the alien. "Is that wise, sir? Do you want to contact Washington first?"

"This is the army, Lieutenant," said Ed. "You don't question a superior officer, ever."

"No, sir," said Beran. "Whatever you order, sir."

"Well, it happens that I haven't completely decided to kill this thing," said Ed. "And I haven't decided not to, either, but I'm definitely not going to ask Washington about it."

Ed thought about it for a minute, then he said, "Throw it in the brig. Maybe it'll be good for ransom or something."

"Uh... Sir? How do we detain this alien? It's not safe or acceptable to physically grab it, is it?"

"No. If it doesn't want to go willingly, then throw a net or a tarp around it or something. Don't worry about being gentle."

Since Ed was up and already wide awake, and it was nearly morning anyway, he decided to go on to work. If aliens were going to be coming around the base, he would have to have a plan for dealing with them, and he thought he should get started on it before Major Baines and the junior officers got to headquarters.

* * *

Ed had been in his office for about an hour, alone at headquarters except for the corporal on CQ duty who waited for messages in the com-room, when the message came. The corporal knocked on Ed's door, then entered almost before Ed said to come in.

"There's a call on the screen, sir. It's from Washington. Mr. Lane, I think."

"Transfer it in here," said Ed. His wallscreen was on the wall in front of his desk, so he just waited for Lane's image to appear in the place of the document he was typing.

"You're going to work early, aren't you? How can all the young troops keep up with an old geezer like you?

"A lot of people wouldn't be that conscientious. But I'm glad I caught you in the office, because I wanted to warn you before it happens."

Ed pushed the keyboard to one side. "Warn me about what?"

"I didn't like it a bit at first but now that I think about it, it's probably not such a bad idea. At least it has its points."

"What idea?"

"It's a fact that aliens are here—probably to stay—and there's probably nothing we can ever do to change that, so it behooves us to work on achieving the least rancorous accommodation to their stay here."

"Lane, what in the devil are you talking about?"

"Ed, all I'm saying is that nothing will ever be the same again so we've got to learn to live with it."

Ed reached for the wallscreen control. "If you don't tell me what you're really talking about, I'm going to terminate this conversation. I've got better to do than listen to you yammer nonsense."

"Not so fast, Ed. You'd better listen to this. Soon—maybe as early as today—there's going to be an alien assigned to interface with you."

"What do you mean, interface?"

"This alien, one of the really important ones, is going to hang around. You're supposed to talk to it and listen to what it has to say—keep the lines of communication open, in other words."

"That sounds like it would be the one that came into my house last night."

The color drained from Lane's face. "Already? That wasn't supposed to be! What happened? Did you kill it?"

"Not yet. We're holding that crapsack in the brig for interrogation, maybe later today or tomorrow."

"What? I told them that wouldn't work but they just never listen!"

"They who? This is Arlene's scheme to punish me, isn't it? The president wouldn't allow anything of the sort. In fact, I think I'll just call her and get all this countermanded."

"Actually, Ed, the president wasn't in favor of it, but the cabinet convinced her to okay it. They threatened to resign en masse if she didn't sign the order."

Ed felt weak. "Am I the last sane person in America?" he asked as he slumped back in his chair.

"Hardly," said Lane. "We've been taking some polls. There are millions of people who think just like you do. There are also millions who buy the old AABC line that this the best thing that ever happened. But neither group is in the majority."

"Then I don't understand," said Ed. "What does the majority think?"

"The majority are just afraid, Ed. They wish aliens had never come but they're afraid, and right now AABC has that segment pretty well convinced we have to have some accommodation of the aliens. That's actually the position of most of the cabinet and most of both houses of congress." While they talked, an odor began drifting into Ed's office. Ed sniffed. "Lane, I think we've got to postpone the rest of this discussion. I smell another alien. I believe one may have got into headquarters."

Then the odor hit with full force as an alien shuffled into the office. Ed jerked open a desk drawer and took out his laser pistol. "One slimy alien is all I have to take! Any more aliens I burn!"

"Wait!" rasped the alien. "I am one Veezee. I am second eldest of common Veezee."

"You were in the brig! Who let you out?"

"Was brig the room with metal bars on the openings? Veezee go between bars."

Then Ed said, "Yeah. Like you went through the small opening of my window!"

Ed rang for the CQ. In a minute, the corporal looked in. "Yes sir, Colonel?"

"Get Lieutenant Beran in here quick! We've got to figure out a more secure place to keep the alien."

Then it was Lane yelling. "Wait, Ed! I've promised the president and the rest of the cabinet you'll cooperate with us! Please let this work for a few days and I'll see what I can do about getting it changed!"

Ed could have sworn he saw that alien grinning, even though he knew it was just a fold in its putrid skin.
36

Nov. 2, 2113

Ed addressed the assembled troops at Kingman Army Base. "It is my unfortunate duty to inform you of the latest in a series of bad moves by our government, under pressure from AABC.

"For some time—and I sincerely hope it's a short time, I am required to host an alien on this base. As I understand it, this thing is supposed to follow me around and learn about humans. Presumably, I am also supposed to learn about aliens. However, the part that worries me most is aliens learning about us.

"This brings up some points I need to speak about today. First, remember that this is still a military base. We do not divulge anything about our operations to anybody, including aliens and other humans, unless that information has been cleared through headquarters. That means me personally.

"Remember also that these things don't think individual thoughts. It is not possible to tell one alien anything in confidence because thoughts go through the whole flock of them right to the Old Veezee they work for. So it's best if you don't even talk around it, and especially not to it.

"The next point is that every one of you is not only a soldier but an intelligence agent. I fully expect this scummy thing won't ever be very far away from me, but just in case, I want you all to be on the lookout for this or any other alien that seems to be poking around headquarters or anywhere on base they oughtn't to be. And since it isn't possible to keep one from communicating with others, you are authorized to kill aliens in order to facilitate base security.

"The one alien who is allowed on base has one of those rocket globes but it isn't allowed to use it because of the danger of starting a fire.

"Now, we have some additional supplies which have become necessary lately. Would Sgt. Sanchez bring them out please?" Ed waited while Sanchez brought out a large box. Ed reached in and took out a small vial. "This is a new product called Smel-Numb. It can be very useful if you have to spend time around an alien. It's simple to use: just rub a couple of drops under your nostrils." Ed demonstrated, then shuddered and made a face. "It does have its own strong smell, but you get over it pretty quickly and then it effectively blocks out just about all other odors, including alien."

Then Ed retrieved a pair of small objects from the box and held them up. "These are special earplugs. They pass most sound except that shrill sonar noise aliens make. Some of us don't need these because we can't hear those high-pitched noises anyway. But for most of you, these will greatly increase your comfort around aliens."

Ed had Sgt. Sanchez distribute the earplugs and the Smel-Numb to the troops. Then he left the assembly and headed back to the headquarters building. The alien, which had never been far away, shuffled along a few meters behind him.

Major Baines met Ed on the steps of the headquarters building and informed him that the alien assigned to Ed had been shot by Lieutenant Sharp while it was crossing the base in its rocket globe.

"That's not possible," said Ed. "That alien has been following me all morning. It's getting to be a real pain in the rear!" Ed pointed to the alien that was sliming along behind him.

"Nevertheless, I'm sure she shot one of them," said Baines.

In a few minutes, Marilee Sharp confirmed that she indeed had shot an alien rocket globe that was traveling across the base, per Colonel Halloran's instruction. The globe had crashed and started a small grass fire but the base fire brigade quickly put out the blaze before it spread, and other soldiers picked up the shards of the broken globe after they had been washed down with the fire hoses.

Ed and Baines still stood on the headquarters steps while the alien waited a few meters away. "We're stuck with one of them for the time being," said Ed, "but what worries me is that I couldn't tell if they sent a bunch of them as long as I can only see the one, because I can't tell them apart."

"I see what you mean," said Baines. "But I've got an idea that may help, if I have your permission to try it."

"Anything," said Ed. "Just don't shoot it without some good excuse so I don't have to justify it to Washington."

Major Baines left to accomplish whatever his idea entailed, and Ed hurried into the headquarters building and slammed the door shut before the alien could get in. Then he locked the door and ordered the soldiers who were working in the building to check all the doors and windows and make sure they were locked. Finally feeling secure, Ed went to his office and settled down in his chair. This is too much, he thought. I wonder if I could get away from that thing if I resigned my commission. But he knew he wouldn't quit, because nobody else would be as stubborn as he in resisting the alien intrusion into American life.

Then he heard the noise, the metallic _'ching'_ of a magnetic lock opening. Ed got up and looked out of his office door. The alien had somehow unlocked the door and was shuffling inside Headquarters.

I am instructed to stay with you. You are ordered to stay with me."

"How did you get in here? That was the best magnetic lock we could buy!"

"Magnetic is simple. Magnetic only requires strong thoughts for Veezee. Veezee are magnetic."

"Yeah, but we'll change the locks. I'll find somebody that can figure out how to keep you out."

Ed took a few steps back toward his desk and the alien shuffled along with him. Then Ed walked out of his office and the alien followed along. Ed stopped suddenly, grabbed a book from a table, and threw it at the alien, which didn't seem to be fazed by it. "Give me some room!" screamed Ed. The alien shuffled about half a meter farther from Ed.

"Sheesh!" muttered Ed. "Doesn't this bother you as much as it does me? Do you like getting stuck with me?"

"Veezee does not think about like. Because you are important in human government, important Veezee is required. Because you are the most evil human, only common Veezee can stay near you. That is why second oldest common Veezee is sent."

"Yeah? If that's the case and I'm so bad, why didn't they send the first oldest common Veezee?"

The alien didn't answer. "Come on, now! If you slimes are so anxious to communicate, you have to talk to us! You can't ignore what you don't want to talk about."

"The Eldest Veezee will not allow answer to your question. Noble Veezee ranks above common Veezee and common Veezee ranks above humans. Therefore, Veezee are not required to answer question if the Eldest Veezee wishes otherwise."

Ed's face began to burn. "That ain't so! I'm not going to stand around arguing with a sack of manure about it, but we're going to get it worked out!

"Now, I have to go to the restroom and that is a private activity for humans so that means you stay out!" Ed waved at the corporal who sat at a desk a few meters away. "Guard this thing. Don't let it get in the bathroom while I'm in there!"

"Yes sir." The corporal drew his laser pistol from its holster and pointed it at the alien. "Don't move!"

Inside the restroom, Ed checked the windows and decided they were too high. It would be dangerous for a man his age to try to get out that way. He had a few minutes peace, away from the alien but he knew he couldn't stay there all day. He went back out and found the alien was gone.

"What happened to the alien?" asked Ed. "Not that I should care why it's gone."

"I don't know, sir. It just left without saying anything. I didn't think you'd mind so I let it go. Was that okay, sir?"

"It sure is! That's the best thing that's happened to me all day, except for getting that 'Smel-Numb' stuff."

Ed went back to his office and resumed formulating plans for defending a country that wasn't altogether certain it needed defense. While he was free of the alien for the better part of an hour, Ed came up with some ideas. He needed some help to carry them out but Major Baines could be counted on, as could Marilee Sharp and Richie Taylor. Also he was certain Everett Lane wouldn't interfere if he got wind of Ed's activities, and the president would also be sympathetic even though her hands were tied by the cabinet and congress.

* * *

Ed's list:

1. In case the army is disbanded, there must be an organized army reserve. It can be either official or covert, depending on Washington attitudes. Weapons that a reserve army can use are already hidden away in *******.

2. Favorable publicity is needed for the cause. The only official information being dispensed comes from AABC and independent journalists are being punished for "insensitivity" if they say anything derogatory about aliens, and that certainly stifles public discussion. An alternative press not controlled by Washington is needed. That probably precludes video reporters since video licenses can be yanked almost completely without due process. Print reporters have considerably more freedom, although they have much less audience.

3. Intelligence about alien activities is absolutely necessary. That means organizing a network of undercover agents to spy on aliens. This includes sympathetic civilians.

4. New devices should be developed, such as what the magport engineer V***** H***** had said he could make which would confuse alien sonar.

* * *

Ed was thinking about visiting Herman or giving him a call when the alien returned. At first Ed thought it was a different alien because it was colored a vivid blue. Ed would have shot it the minute it came into headquarters if Major Baines hadn't been walking along with it. When Ed reached for his pistol, Baines waved him off.

"What? Do we have to put up with another one too? I don't think so!"

Baines nodded and took pen and pad from his pocket and wrote a note that he handed to Ed. The note said, "Same alien but now you can identify it. It doesn't know. Tell you about it later."

Later was soon because Ed walked from the headquarters building to another a couple of doors down. Ed had the corporal follow him to the other building and the alien predictably followed. When inside, Ed told the alien, "I've got to go to the restroom again and you must stay out here until I come out." Then he ordered the corporal to guard the alien. "Shoot it if it tries to go in before I come out."

"But, sir! That's not a..." The soldier stopped when he realized what Ed was doing.

The door led into a closet instead of a restroom, and it had another door on the other side where Ed went out. How long would it take the alien to figure out it had been duped? Probably not long, Ed decided. He called Baines and told him to meet at the floater pool. Ed went straight to the floater pool and checked out a high level model which he had ready to go as soon as Baines arrived. Then it was on to Highway 40 to Flagstaff. Without an alien.

When they were on their way, Ed asked, "Okay, what's the deal with the blue alien?"

"It was just an idea I had that seems to have worked," said Baines. "It seems like those things like rotten food and that's why they show up at garbage bins. So when the cooks started throwing out spoiled meat, I had them give it to me instead. I soaked it in indelible printer's ink and, sure enough, that slimy thing soaked it up and turned solid blue! Funny thing is, it doesn't even know it! They can't tell colors with that sonar."

"I hope it lasts!" said Ed.

"It should. That thing soaked up two liters of dark blue ink. Anyway, if it starts to wear off, I'll feed it some more."

Then Ed gave a copy of his list to Baines. "I know I can depend on you. Have you got a pretty good idea of whoever else you can count on?"

"Yeah. I know exactly who is with us among the officers and I have a pretty good idea about the enlisted men."

Then Ed told Baines about his chance meeting with Victor Herman, and about Herman's ideas for gadgets that would confuse alien sonar.

"Do you think he can really do that?" asked Baines.

"Yes. Quite likely. You ought to see what he's done with virtual reality software and the hologram window scenery on the magtrains."

"It's been a long time since I had a train ride, but maybe I'll take another sometime soon, if you give me some time off."

"You deserve it. Take a couple of days starting right after we talk to Herman."

* * *

The Magport Authority was housed in a jarringly modern building on the outskirts of Flagstaff. The shiny dark metallic blue structure was fifteen stories high, with windows that couldn't be seen from outside. As with most modern buildings in the southwest, it dazzled onlookers with reflected sunlight and its top seemed to blend right into the sky. People had long since stopped complaining about the unnatural look of such structures, but this one still made Ed uncomfortable.

He aimed the floater for the parking entrance anyway and found the only part of the whole building that he liked: automatic parking. As they neared the entrance, they felt the magnetic tug take over and Ed took his hands off the controls. The autopark took them swiftly down three levels to the first available parking pod and set the floater gently down. They were parked before Ed's eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness.

Herman's office was on an upper floor. Ed wasn't sure which one since the voice-controlled elevator simply had asked the name of the person he wished to visit, and whisked them straight up.

Herman had been alerted to their presence by the elevator controller and greeted them at the door of his office. Herman invited them in and fiddled momentarily with a control panel on his desk. A door opened on a sidewall and two chairs rolled out, stopping just behind Ed and Baines. "Please have a seat," said Herman, when his visitors hesitated. They sat and the chairs rolled over in front of Herman's desk.

"This is unusual," said Baines. "Did the building come with these or did you do it?"

I'm afraid these are my additions," said Herman. "Don't tell management but I've got too much time on my hands ever since we finished up the interactive holograph scenery. Until we get a little farther along on the next big project, that is."

"What's next?" asked Ed.

"Transportation for Veezees. They can't use floaters because they can't see in the conventional sense. Sonar doesn't work through floater windows like it does with their rocket globes.

"Then why don't they just use the globes?" asked Baines.

"Because the City of Flagstaff is trying to outlaw rocket globes. Fire hazard, you know. And they won't go in the magport stations either, for some reason."

"Maybe it's the strong fields," suggested Baines.

"No, I don't think so," said Herman. He pulled out a file folder and showed them a diagram of a magport. "See: the stations are completely shielded. RF radiation is completely blocked. The only way video comes in is through optical cable."

"Maybe I'll take to hanging out at magports," said Ed, smiling. "That should keep one blue alien out of my hair."

"Who's going to pay for all that alien transportation?" asked Baines.

Herman frowned. "Guess. Some judge says Arizona's constitution guarantees free transportation."

"I think I'm going to get mad if we don't change the subject," said Ed. "We came to see you about something else, something about virtual reality you said you might be able to do to aliens."

"I thought you'd be getting around to that." Herman smiled and reached into his desk and took out a small gray object. It had a rectangular base that was about 100mm. across and was topped with a small sphere of perhaps 50mm. "We'll have to go somewhere else for a demonstration, somewhere there's aliens. Follow me."

Ed and Baines got up and their chairs rolled quickly back into the closet from which they had come. Then they followed Herman to the elevator. Herman spoke to the elevator, "Tech center. Roof."

The elevator zipped down for an undetermined number of floors, and then they felt it turn around before taking off horizontally. The three of them were pushed gently back against the wall by the acceleration. Then it spun again and began decelerating and pushed them against the same wall again. It hardly stopped before it went up again and the door opened. A voice announced, "Arrival. Tech Center. Roof."

The three of them stepped from the elevator into bright sunlight and it took a minute for Ed's eyes to adjust. Before he could see, he knew there were aliens around, though. Then he could see them. A dozen aliens milled aimlessly about the roof while three human technicians worked on what looked very much like saucers a meter across with little repeller pods sticking out every 90 degrees around the bottom. Occasionally a technician would call out and an alien would come shuffle and slosh onto a saucer. What usually happened was that the saucer would tip over when it started to move, almost spilling an alien every time.

"As you can see, this is where much of our research takes place," said Herman. Then he walked over to the edge of the roof and placed the object on the ledge. "Now we'll give it a try."

Ed walked to the edge and looked down. They were very high. "We're not even close to the authority building, are we?"

"No. The elevator module took us several kilometers. See that blue building way over there?" Herman pointed and Ed squinted. "That's where we came from. Where we are now is on top of the magport station."

Then Herman took another small gadget from his shirt pocket and pointed it at the gray thing. "Now it's activated," he whispered to Ed and Baines. Then he clapped his hands for attention. "Break for lunch everybody! Technicians to the cafeteria and Veezee to the bins."

"But it's not time yet," said a technician. "It's a half an hour 'til..." The technician watched speechlessly as all the aliens sloshed to the edge of the roof and then shuffled right off the side. "They're crazy!" said the technician. "They're absolutely crazy!"

They went to the edge of the roof and looked down. All twelve aliens had splattered on top of the garbage bins. Herman slipped the small gadget into his coat and stepped back. "Those things are crazy about garbage, aren't they! I guess they just couldn't wait to go down the long way."

One of the technicians stared quizzically down at the scrambled aliens. "What are we going to do now, Mr. Herman?"

"Don't worry. There are millions more," said Herman. "I'll send you some."

Herman, Ed, and Baines beat a speedy retreat into the elevator module while the technicians buzzed excitedly about the alien suicide leap. When they were on their way, Ed said, "I know your gadget did that! But how?"

"This is precisely what I told you about. It's not quite ready yet, but what it mainly needs is a database. So far, what I've done is record sonar blips from a bunch of aliens that were milling around the garbage bins behind the building. Now our Confusor picks up blips from aliens and transmits them to our big computer, which sends back some echo blips that just happen to look like the garbage bin to aliens. You saw the result!"

"Uh huh!" said Ed. "Just like you said it would work! I thought you said it wasn't ready yet."

"It's really not. I don't even want to expose it to any more aliens until I've got some more interactive software done and a larger database of objects in memory."

"Well, I guess you're doing just great without any input from me. I should get back to Kingman and let you work," said Ed.

"I must say I didn't expect anything like that," said Baines. "If you don't mind, I'd like to come along the next time you have something ready to check out."

Then Herman said, "Stop!" and the elevator abruptly decelerated to a complete stop, momentarily making it difficult for the occupants to stand.

"What? What's going on?" asked Ed.

"I just had a page," said Herman. "I have to see about something."

"I didn't hear a page," said Baines. "No speaker in the elevator or anything."

"It's embedded." Herman pointed to a small red dot behind his left ear. "It's required of high level managers in the authority."

Baines shook his head. "I wouldn't like that at all."

Ed said, "I wouldn't stand for it. They could just have the job back first."

"Well, I have it and I'm stuck with it," said Herman. "But what's going on might interest you. There's a report of some excitement concerning an alien at the magport entrance. Want to go check it out with me?"

"Might as well," said Ed.

Herman turned to the control panel. "Magport. South entrance."

The elevator started again, then almost instantly decelerated and started zigging and zagging horizontally. It didn't spin around to decelerate this time, and Ed and Baines had to hold tightly to the side rails. The elevator stopped and the door opened. When they stepped out, Ed recognized that they were at the same magport entrance where he had come in when he went to Washington. There was a crowd of people standing just inside the door and it seemed to be even more crowded outside. And the crowd was certainly excited about something.

Herman couldn't easily push through the crowd to see what they were watching. "What's going on out there?" he asked of a bystander."

"It's something unusual, an alien like nobody has ever seen around here—solid blue!"

"Oh no!" said Ed. "That thing has tracked me here! I've got to find another way out!"

### 37

Ed tried to get back in the elevator but the door was closed and there were no buttons. "Hey, Herman!" he called. "How do I get back in here?"

"You can't. It's fixed so nobody can get on here to keep passengers from wandering through the parts of the building where they don't belong. From here you either have to go outside through that door or take a train ride."

"Well, sheesh! I don't want to go anywhere and I sure don't want to go around that alien!"

"I wouldn't mind taking a ride," said Baines. "I'd kind of like to see that special scenery you told me about."

"Maybe I will too," said Ed. "Let's go get tickets."

"See you guys later," said Herman. "As soon as I can get through that crowd, I'm going back to the Authority Building."

Ed and Baines pushed their way past the crowd of people who were trying to get out to see the blue alien and made their way to the ticket counter. Nobody was in line there.

"Where to?" asked the young woman at the counter.

"Where's the closest place? I don't want a long ride," said Ed.

The agent looked surprised. "You don't have some place in particular to go?"

"Actually, I'm on the run, Ma'am. I'm a fugitive. And my friend here has never seen that new magport scenery."

"Is he a fugitive too?" She pushed buttons on her schedule monitor without waiting for an answer. "There's a train leaving for Denver in about ten minutes with some space."

"Too far," said Ed.

"How about Deming Metro in fifteen minutes?"

"That's better. We'll take it. Round trip, please."

"Very well. When will you be returning?"

"On the next train back. We're not going to leave Deming Metro station."

The look she gave Ed told him she thought they both were crazy. "Gate eleven. Check your... No luggage, I see. Enjoy your trip."

While they waited for the Deming train, Ed noticed excitement building over near the entrance. Then someone called out, "The alien wants to go inside! Get out of its way!"

Somebody else yelled, "Don't touch it! Give it room!"

Ed looked over his shoulder and saw the crowd parting. The alien was coming inside the station. "Can I get on that train already?"

"It's not here yet, but it may be by the time you get to gate eleven."

"Come on, Baines. Let's get out of here!"

"Yes sir!" Baines bolted ahead of Ed, limping so badly that he bounced from side to side. Ed huffed along a few meters behind. Both of the old men were out of breath when they reached the waiting area for gate eleven, but all the seats in the area were already taken.

"Crud!" said Ed. "I feel like I'm about to drop! You'd think somebody young would offer an old guy a seat!"

The twentyish woman seated nearest them said, "If you mean me, forget it! It's your own fault you're out of breath. You didn't have to run because the train isn't even here yet."

Ed started to say something, but decided against it. Then the woman's nose wrinkled and she frowned. "That smell! They're not supposed to be in here!" Then she got up and hurried away, as did most of the other waiting passengers. Ed and the major were finally seated.

"I guess we're stuck here," said Ed. "Good thing the Smel-Numb hasn't worn off yet or we'd be running off to the restrooms to puke too."

"Yeh. I bet it is strong in here," said Baines.

Then the blue second oldest common Veezee caught up with them just as the train pulled in, buzzing the gate with a magnetic hum. By this time only the three of them were in the area because all of the other passengers went running toward the entrance.

"Well, Blue, I guess you caught me," said Ed.

"Halloran is evil as was told us. Halloran deceived."

"Halloran doesn't owe you anything," said Ed. "I didn't agree to this exchange student trash. What does your old boy Veezee say to that?"

"Eldest Veezee says nothing."

Then Baines nudged Ed's elbow. "The train is about to leave. We're going to miss it."

"You go on and enjoy the ride, Major. I think I'm going back to the base before this stinking freak tries to get on the train with us. Tell me how you like the holograms."

Baines got on the train and Ed started trudging back toward the magport entrance with the alien sloshing along beside him. Ed was half surprised to see the magport was nearly abandoned. There were no more than six people in the station and they all avoided Ed and his alien companion by a wide margin.

"Tell me something, Blue," said Ed. "Why do you common Veezees all have to slave for the nobles?"

"Common Veezee must work for nobles because nobles have captured our Eldest."

"You mean like kidnap and extortion?"

"Yes. Those are human words for what noble do to common."

"How long has that been? Since you've come to Earth?"

"It has been for very long time, since before our journey began. Before, common was noble and noble was common."

"Then all this symbiotic business is crap! You don't willingly serve at all."

"Veezee do not know what is crap. Common Veezee serves only to protect the Eldest from harm."

They were almost back to the entrance when Ed said suddenly, "Wait a minute! How come you're telling me all this? If all the Veezees think together, why aren't you in trouble right now with the old one?"

The blue Veezee stopped. "Now I cannot think with all other Veezee. I cannot think with any other Veezee. I do not know why."

Ed thought he knew why. He figured it was the magnetic shielding around the magport station, because isn't it magnetic waves of some sort the aliens use to communicate?

Then Ed saw a station comphone near the entrance. "Just a minute. I need to make a call."

The blue alien waited while Ed keyed Victor Herman's name into the comphone. When Herman answered, Ed asked, "How the devil am I supposed to get back to my floater if I can't get back in the elevator?" Ed paused for a moment. "Okay, I'll wait."

Ed hung up the comphone and said to Blue, "Herman is coming to give me a ride back to my floater. You'll have to get back however you got here because you can't ride in anybody's floater."

Ed walked outside with the alien shuffling along right behind him. "You can go on now. I'm riding with Herman."

"Will wait. Eldest Veezee commands that I wait with you until Herman arrives. Then I will follow you to your base."

"So now you can think with the rest of them, huh?"

"Veezee are one. Veezee are not like you."

That proves it, Ed thought. Inside the station shields you away from the rest of them. As Ed wondered what to do with this bit of information, Herman's floater glided up in front and the passenger door flew up. Ed got in and pulled the door down with a solid thunk.

"That blue alien seems to be following you," said Herman.

"Yeah. It has been kind of worked out with the government that I have to put up with it—at least for the time being, before I figure something out."

"That's a shame. Nobody deserves that," said Herman, as he edged his floater out into a traffic lane that had not quite enough room, jostling two other floaters and troubling Ed's stomach.

"Darn right! But it might just work out better than I expected."

"How's that?"

Ed told Herman all about talking with the alien inside the magport and about how it seemed disconnected from all the other aliens. "Do you think it could be the shielding?" asked Ed.

"I'm sure of it. That's all it could be."

"Then I have an idea about something you could help me with, if you're willing."

"Do you mean something else besides the sonar traps?" asked Herman.

"Could you show me how to shield my house on the base? So that alien thoughts couldn't get in or out?"

Herman didn't believe he could, but he offered to give Ed some help with designing a house that was shielded. "Can you get it built if I supply the

plans?"

Of course he could. One house, complete with EMI shielding would be the least expensive requisition Ed had approved for the army. It would not be described as shielded in the paperwork, though, because he did not intend to explain to anybody why.

* * *

When Ed got back to headquarters, he went stopped to see Lt. Marilee Sharp first. He asked her to send somebody to pick up Major Baines at the magport when his train arrived from Deming.

"Sir? If I may ask, why did Major Baines go to Deming?"

"Certainly you can ask. Baines just wanted to see the scenery."

"Yes sir," said Marilee. Ed thought he also heard her muttering something about old people, but he wasn't sure.

Ed went to his office then. The blue alien, who had just got back from Flagstaff, followed him. Ed sat at his keyboard and started typing the requisition for his new quarters. He also requisitioned a pit beside it for the alien. Ed whistled a tune while he typed.

"Do you make the strange sound to confuse my sight?" asked the alien.

"Nah. I just whistle when I'm in a good mood, Blue," said Ed.

"Veezee do not have mood. Veezee are not like you."

"Maybe I can teach you to have a mood sometime."

"Instead Veezee can teach humans not to have good mood."

"Too late for that," said Ed.

### 38

Jan. 10, 2113

It was Arlene Sisk's task to announce it to the nation, as it had been her unpleasant duty first to convince President Litton, her cabinet, and the leaders of both houses of congress. Now she studied her notes and mentally rehearsed the announcement as PNN technicians worked to adjust the cameras and lighting in the DC studio, a task that was all the more difficult since she had decided to forego the heavy skin cream. Sisk's stain had faded considerably but she was still pale green and somewhat splotchy.

For the first time since the Visitors arrived, she wondered if AABC had always been wrong in welcoming them to the planet. Certainly there had always been a few dissenters like Ed Halloran who warned that we didn't really know what they would be like, but they had been dismissed as old reactionaries, not to be taken seriously by an enlightened population. Arlene's goal had been to live long enough to welcome The Visitors to our planet so they could teach us how they achieved their perfect civilization. But now that they were here, it was all so different!

And now she worried whether she had made a mistake by appearing without her thick skin cream.

* * *

_My fellow Earthians!_ No, that wouldn't work. _Earthians_ was awkward. _My fellow_ _Earthlings_ was even worse. _My fellow humans_ didn't work either. It still was not easy to think in interplanetary terms.

Then she was brought abruptly to attention when the amber light flashed and the studio director said, "Ten seconds,"

"My fellow Terrestrials," began Arlene when the red light came on. "My dear fellow Terrestrials. That sounds strange, I know, but it is necessary now to think in different terms. Now that we share our planet with another civilization, a great civilization, it falls our duty to make that great effort that will help us achieve solidarity with our visitors. It is necessary that both Veezee and we contribute to meld our great civilizations into one.

"We will, if we but try, learn the secrets of harmony and peace from Veezee. We have naught to give them in return except some frail technology, but they are willing to accept that for their gift of knowledge of the perfect social order. What a wonderful trade that will be for humankind! But we must take the first step since it is the human infrastructure that already exists on the planet.

"Just hours ago, I spoke with President Litton and the cabinet concerning a request from the representatives of Veezee. There is agreement in the highest levels of our government that we should go forward with this, and we have assurances that the other governments involved will concur. For our part, AABC South-East Commissioner Lyle Guyson was appointed to lead our efforts, and to coordinate with the other governments.

"Fellow Terrestrials, we have been asked by Veezee to manufacture the voice translator disks that a few Veezee now wear. We need to make one each of the devices for each Veezee on our planet. I'm told that number is something over 800 million around the world and near 100 million in the United States. This will allow each Veezee to communicate with his or her, ah... its... human neighbors and to take part in the necessary interactions of daily life.

"Now the reason I must come to you tonight in this manner is that this is no small undertaking. It will involve huge costs in labor and it will involve tremendous financial costs as well. This project will even cause some hardships around the planet because it will use up just about the world's total supply of some materials, primarily meaning paladium and some rare earths.

"But we must because the cost is even greater if we do not. The cost will be continued fear and misunderstanding. The cost might even be the type of armed conflict that some brutish people are even now trying to start. The Veezee cannot be truly free unless they can take part in our great institutions and they cannot take part unless they can communicate. And Veezee do wish to be completely free during their stay on Earth.

"It is not my purpose to tell you every detail of our task because that would take too long for this announcement, and also because the details have not been completely worked out. But it is my aim to ask your support and your help for the nation in this great task. I ask you tonight to pledge the labor and resources this project will require.

"And remember that AABC will be with you every step of the way, as we have for so many years already, until we have fully achieved all the great blessings that can be ours through interaction with The Visitors.

"Good night."

* * *

Ed Halloran pulled the old restroom trick on the blue alien again. He figured it was probably for the last time since the aliens are very intelligent. He'd have to come up with something else the next time he needed to get away from his personally assigned slime.

Then Ed, along with Marilee Sharp and Richie Taylor, went to Needles to check out reports that a few citizens were returning to the abandoned city. They found some of those returnees in a large shopping mall near Highway 40. When Ed and his lieutenants found them, they were gathered around a large wallscreen at the front of a store.

One man in the group noticed Ed approaching. "What's going on? What are you all doing here?" Ed asked.

"We're watching a news bulletin," said the man.

"No, I mean what are you doing back in Needles? This place hasn't been cleared for reoccupation."

"Look, Mister! I live here. I own a house. Besides, nobody told me to leave in the first place. I just left when I thought Needles was going to be wiped out."

"Maybe you weren't told to leave but it has been made pretty clear that it's too dangerous for people to stay this close to the rocket fleet."

The fellow was becoming somewhat annoyed at Ed. "Hey, it's better here than everywhere else now, since the aliens moved out all over the country! This is the only place they aren't!"

Ed was a bit irked. "It's not the aliens—it's the rockets. They're full of toxic fuel and some of it has already leaked. A fire would make another toxic cloud. We're going to clear this place again and this time we'll have to put up barricades."

"Ed!" yelled Marilee. There was enough urgency in her voice that it brought Ed's attention the video screen.

"What is it?" he asked.

"This commentator—he says Ms. Sisk just announced that we have to build voice translators for all the aliens in the world."

"Huh?" Ed started listening to the commentator telling how the nation would have to commit about twenty percent of its budget to building the devices and that it was going to require both increased taxes and a longer workweek for the average citizen. The commentator said instant polls initially showed high resistance to the scheme all around the world, but that opposition was quickly waning as the sages warned that not providing translators would probably push Veezee into battle with humans. Besides that, Ed knew there was an implied threat of forced sensitivity training for citizens who didn't comply voluntarily. "They've gone too far now," said Ed. "Whether it shows in the polls or not, this is going to build resentment!"

Then Ed had his lieutenants get the group's attention and Richie Taylor announced that they would all have to leave Needles and the surrounding area because of the government's edict. "We will be back tomorrow," said Taylor. "We expect all of you to be gone by then. If you can't go because you don't have a place, stop at the Assistance Office at Camp Kingman."

When the crowd began to murmur, Taylor warned them that stronger measures would be used. "If we have to, we'll install a repeller ring around the whole city."

As they drove back to Kingman on Highway 40, they were all surprised by the amount of traffic on the highway, most of which was going toward Needles.

"I think we're going to have trouble keeping people out," said Marilee. "I'll bet most of those people are going back to Needles."

"Yeah, they will," said Richie. "I might as well see the transport people about the repeller as soon as we get back."

"No. Don't do that," said Ed. "We'll warn them it's dangerous but I won't be a party to driving folks from their homes."

### 39

Jan. 20, 2113

It was pretty much the same all over—private resentment and public support. People confided only in friends they trusted. It wasn't just the voice translator issue, either. Just about everybody feared and despised aliens and nobody wanted the smelly intruders in their neighborhood. They feared saying as much to strangers, nor would they indicate their true feelings to the Poll Channel of PNN. Fear consumed the American spirit.

Fear bred secrecy and that is why no agency of the government or the army knew about the resistance groups at first. It is also why each resistance group felt very much alone, because none of the groups knew about any of the others.

One of these groups established a base in deep east Texas, in a national park known as The Big Thicket. The park was rare virgin forest, with brush so thick that humans could hardly make their way to its interior and baggy, shuffling aliens certainly could not. They called themselves the Rabbles because it sounded a lot like rebels, even though they weren't completely certain just who they rebelled against. They weren't even sure they could properly be called rebels if they only fought against the invaders, the Veezee.

The Rabbles were organized and led by a Houston businessman, Jamal Jefferson. The group included Jefferson's three sons and one daughter and a few of his business associates, as well as several friends of the younger Jeffersons.

* * *

"We have a problem," announced President Litton. Then she rose from her chair and paced while most of her audience waited for her to tell them what trouble had erupted now.

Arlene Sisk knew already because she had brought it to the president's attention, but Ed Halloran and the cabinet members didn't know it yet. Then she leaned against her chair and said, "Somebody is killing aliens."

"That's not a problem, Ms. President. That's a positive development," said Ed. Then he wished he hadn't said it, as he endured the small lady's withering stare. "Excuse me, please. I spoke out of turn."

"Yes. You did, Halloran. But I'm sure there are a lot of people who believe that, and that's another part of the problem. Right now the killing is confined to a few places in South Texas and Louisiana, but who knows what will happen when it gets into the news. Copycats, you know. Now, Ms. Sisk will fill you in on it."

Arlene pushed a switch on the conference table and a large map of America filled the wallscreen. Perhaps a dozen red points of light gleamed across the country but there was almost a glare of red light at several places in Texas and Louisiana. There was also a fair amount of red light shining from the Flagstaff area on the map. "Each point on the map represents an deceased Veezee body found. You'll notice they seem to be concentrated in a few spots."

"We don't know a lot about alien physiology," said Ned Dawkins, a cabinet member, "so how do we know they were killed? Couldn't this all be from natural causes?"

"No," said Sisk. "Every last one has been violent—laser guns, stone throwing, and the like. It's usually been lone Veezee, and nobody has ever seen the killers." She switched the screen through a succession of still pictures, of aliens shot, mangled, and mutilated. "It's hard for me to understand why anybody would do something like this. Especially since the polls show such complete acceptance of The Visitors."

"People are afraid to express anything to the polls, and that's your fault," said Ed. "Everybody's afraid they'll get punished with sensitivity training."

"But that's not...!" Sisk blurted out before President Litton waved her down.

"It's true," said Litton, "and I'm ashamed our nation has come to that. I'm going to get it changed, too, if I live long enough, but that's not our concern tonight.

"I have two fears right now. The first is that aliens will seem vulnerable and that will escalate the killings. The other thing I'm afraid of is that the aliens will retaliate and we don't even know what they're capable of."

Dawkins raised a hand. "Uh, this sounds different from what we've always been told—peace loving, no word for war, and all that stuff. Now you're telling us they might be dangerous?"

"Sisk thinks so," said Litton. "Tell them about it."

Arlene hesitated for a moment, and then she said quietly, "You could say there's been a threat of it. When they told us they wanted the translators, there was a suggestion that they might punish us if we didn't comply."

"What!" Ed slammed his fist against the table. "Why didn't you tell us about that crap?"

"Out of line again, Mr. Halloran!" said Litton. "I told her to keep that part quiet because I didn't want to cause a panic."

"But nobody even told me! Or the cabinet either, for that matter!"

"That was my decision and I was wrong. I apologize for it," said Litton. "Now we have to get this situation under control quickly, and that's where you come in, Halloran. At least two thirds of the killing has been with laser guns and that makes us think this may be organized. I want you to get some people out there and investigate. Find them, infiltrate, and get them stopped!"

_Like hell!_ thought Ed. _If we can find them we'll pass out firearms!,_ "I'll get some good people right on it, Ms. President. I'll need to start with all that information Sisk has."

Arlene pushed a sheaf of papers across the table at Ed. "These are your copies. That's all AABC knows."

"Probably more than AABC knows," mumbled Ed, as he gathered up the papers."

* * *

Litton's wishes notwithstanding, the news networks discovered the killings, or at least some of them. PNN had the most graphic coverage of the latest alien killings. Floating video cameras displayed the remains of five aliens for public viewing. The aliens that occupied the same pit in a suburban neighborhood north of Houston all had been dispatched with ion trailer lasers, probably from a great distance. The PNN narrating reporter related that Houston police believed at least five perpetrators mounted a simultaneous attack. Otherwise, they reasoned, at least some of the aliens would have gotten away and other aliens would have known about it from their collective thought processes.

* * *

A few days after the PNN report, Jamal Jefferson and some Rabble members met at a cabin near Lufkin, many kilometers from their training base in the thicket. The cabin, which had been abandoned and looked to be a hundred years old or more, was built in a glade and it blended into the wilderness so completely that it surprised Jefferson that his son Roland had found it. Even now it was difficult to find the place when one already knew where it was supposed to be.

Surprise turned quickly to anger when the elder Jefferson saw that Roland had brought a stranger to the cabin that day. The stranger was a young man although ruggedly built and deeply tanned. The man came dressed for making his way through the woods and didn't seem to have suffered as much from coming through the brush as had Roland.

Jefferson quickly threw a tarp over the disassembled laser on the table. "Just who the hell is that?" he demanded.

"This is Rich Lyon," said Roland. "He used to be in the army."

"What's he doing here and what does he know about us?"

"Let me answer that," said Taylor. "I'm here because I think I know what you're up to and I can help if you'll let me."

The older man looked at Roland. "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing, Pop! Nothing at all! I just heard him talking in town and figured out he's a sympathizer. He can help us!"

"How?" asked Jefferson. Perspiration suddenly glistened across his forehead and he mopped it with a handkerchief.

"I can get you some more weapons," said Taylor. "The army hid a lot of laser arms when they got to thinking they might be disbanded. I think some of them might plan to go underground if that happens. Anyway, they wouldn't miss a dozen long range ion lasers and I know where they're stashed."

"What's this going to cost?" asked Jefferson. "What's the bottom line of all this?"

"Nothing for you. Plenty for me if I get caught but I think you have plenty of reason not to turn me in."

Jefferson was becoming rather more calm now. "How are we going to get these lasers?"

"Tell me where you want them. Your home or your business, maybe? You're into some kind of business, aren't you?"

Jefferson nodded. "Let me think about it. I don't want anything going to my house and my employees might get into them at the store."

"I've got an idea, Pop," said Roland. "You've got an empty rent house. Have somebody stay there until the weapons come in."

"That would do it," said Jefferson. "When can we get a delivery?"

"It'll be a couple of days at most," said Taylor. "How can I reach you?"

Jefferson scribbled on a pad and tore off the page and handed it to Taylor. "That's the address of the house in Houston. Call me at the store when the weapons are ready."

"Tell him what else you told me," said Roland.

"Oh, yeah. I told Roland I think you guys ought to advertise."

"What! Are you crazy?"

"No. What I mean is take some credit for what you're doing, like sending anonymous letters to the networks. They wouldn't lay off something like that if they could."

"But how would that help?"

"It's this way, Mr. Jefferson. You're not alone in this. Before I got out of the army, I heard there were a bunch of groups operating but the government is trying to keep it quiet so it won't spread. I think it would encourage the others if they knew what you're doing."

"I don't want to do something stupid and get caught. I don't want to take chances with the kids either."

"I can do it so it can't be traced. That is, I will if it's okay with you. I wouldn't do anything behind your back," said Taylor.

* * *

Two days after the meeting in the cabin, Jefferson's group got the weapons. Five laser pistols and ten shoulder-fired weapons with IR sights were delivered to the Rabble members stationed in the rent house. There were also operating and service manuals in the crate, as well as some spare parts. It was so much that it almost made the elder Jefferson uneasy about the way they had simply fallen into his group's possession.

That was also the same day PNN made public a letter that had been sent E-mail to its headquarters. The letter claimed credit for the slaying of the five aliens that had been covered in the sensational report, as well as for several earlier alien executions. The letter was identified as having been sent by the Earth Liberation Army.

Then later in the day, PNN reported a series of alien killings all across the southern half of the country. Two more aliens were found shot in Houston, six in New Orleans, and three in Tucson. Also networks reported single slayings in several other cities from Raleigh to Tucumcari all on the same day.

Commentators blamed all the alien deaths on the Earth Liberation Army, noting the similarities in the incidents. This ELA was reported to be a highly organized, wide-spread paramilitary operation. Experts analyzed the mental makeup of the guerillas and their leaders, and citizens were warned about the killers in their midst.

Still, the PNN Poll Channel showed unwavering public support for integrating Veezee into the life and affairs of our country.

### 40

March 7, 2113

It was an hour after dawn on a bright clear Arizona morning and a slight warm breeze hinted of the summer day that would follow. Ed stepped outside onto the walk in front of his new quarters and watched the small lizards that came out early to catch bugs. Then there were the desert field mice scampering about. The small rodents also would disappear before the sun rose much higher into the sky. It was such a great day to be alive that Ed almost forgot about his arthritis.

Suddenly, the mice scampered away and Ed noticed the lizards were already gone. Then he caught a whiff and knew why the small animals had gone. The blue alien, second oldest of Common Veezee, had been in the pit next to Ed's quarters all the time and when Ed came outside, the alien came to greet him.

"Good morning, elderly human," said the alien, through the translator disk.

"You don't have to rub my face in it. I know how old I am. Just a minute here. I gotta go get something." Ed retreated back indoors to his bathroom where he found the small vial of Smel-Numb. A couple of drops below his nostrils immediately made the blue alien less offensive. Ed also thought of something else that would make the alien more bearable. Either of the two weapons he had hidden in his quarters—the laser pistol or the old .45 revolver donated by Sam Baines—would effectively eliminate that alien's personality defects.

"I did not rub your face in something," said the alien who had followed Ed inside. "I do not understand why Veezee are accused of strange actions."

"It's just a figure of speech! I just didn't care for your crack about being elderly!"

"That is especially strange. For Veezee, older is better condition. Older is more respect."

"That's half right," said Ed. "Old people ought to get more respect than they do. But even if they did, younger would be better! Being old makes my joints hurt and I can't half see what I'm doing any more."

"Eldest Veezee commands that I instruct you in civilized behavior today."

"Does that mean you're going to blab all day again?" asked Ed, as he picked up a pair of earplugs and dropped them into his shirt pocket just in case.

"Does word blab mean same as word talk?"

"Yeah. Pretty much."

"Then Veezee will blab all of the day."

"Yeah? Well, what if I tell you the old boy big chief Veezee stinks worse than a pile of horse manure? What would that evil, scummy, cowardly, lying, ugly, stupid ass think of that?"

"I do not know. I do not feel the thoughts of the Eldest Veezee now. I do not know why."

_It works! The shielding really works_. Ed resolved to thank engineer Herman for the design as soon as possible.

"Since you're alone now, maybe you can answer some questions for me," said Ed. "Like: do you know anything about a lot of aliens being killed lately?"

"Many Veezee die in human cities. Veezee know humans kill Veezee because other life on this planet do not use technological weapons."

"Then why haven't you aliens said anything about it yet? I'd get furious about humans getting killed."

"It is not a problem yet. Veezee are one and two and many. Veezee are not like you."

"What do you mean, it's not a problem yet? When's it going to be a problem?"

"Killing will be a problem for Veezee when many Noble Veezee are killed. Many Common Veezee and few Noble Veezee are killed already. Common Veezee have many bodies so are sufficient without the bodies that were killed. Veezee are one."

Ed went into the room he'd prepared for an office and sat down behind the desk. He pulled the control panel out and punched the 'record' button that caused all conversation in the room to be saved on the crystal. Then he turned to the blue alien who had followed him to this room. "What's the plan for humans?" he asked. "How does the oldest Veezee plan to work with humans?"

"The plan for humans is quite simple. Humans will be taught to serve Veezee."

"Uh..." Ed was caught off guard by the answer. "Uh. How's that going to happen?"

"When enough translator discs are built, all Veezee will be able to command humans."

Ed checked the recording system to see that it was working. "What will Veezees do if the humans don't agree to work for slimebag Veezees?"

"Veezee have many weapons. Veezee will also take weapons from humans when it is time."

"Oh yeah? If I have anything to say, people aren't going to give their weapons away."

"Some humans are friends to Veezee already. Even some humans that are in United States of America government are friends and will help Veezee."

"Oh? Which ones?"

"Some humans are Netta Gage and Carey White who is a senator and Jerrold Macklin who is a vice president. There are also many other humans friends of Veezee who help to rule your planet and the United States of America."

"Uh, what! Are you...? You can give me the rest of the names later." Ed turned off the recorder. Then he removed its crystal and slipped it into his pocket. "You have to stay in here right now," said Ed. "I've got to go to the bathroom."

"Halloran tricks Veezee. You may not be alone because you plan to leave without Veezee. Veezee cannot allow this."

"Oh! Well, that's too bad I guess." Ed walked into the next room and pushed a switch with his hand. Immediately, a rod plunged across the door about 25 centimeters above the floor. Similar rods also crossed all the other doors in the house. Ed stepped easily across each one but the blue alien had to disgorge its bodily goo under each before it could jump across and recombine. Ed was out of the house and into his floater before the alien was past the second barrier.

Ed stopped at Headquarters only long enough to give Major Baines some instructions, then he was off to Flagstaff, to catch the magtrain to Washington. He would deliver the recording crystal personally to President Litton, who would be waiting for Ed after receiving Atkin's message.

* * *

Washington, DC. The White House had taken on a completely different appearance. The grass was gone from the front lawn and there was an alien pit dug on either side of the walk. The pits touched the walk on either side and each was as large as it could be to fit on the lawn and still be perfectly round. Several aliens shuffled about in the pits and a few were on the walk leading to the front door of the White House. Others sluffed sloppily along on the front walk.

Guards? The aliens certainly looked like guards patrolling the premises. But that could not be, because there was a human guard standing at the gate. Wearing the familiar blue-and-white White House Guard Corps uniform and a nametag that said R. Rollins, the guard was armed with a shoulder laser weapon. And he also wore a holstered laser pistol hanging from his belt.

"This place smells worse than an old-fashioned dairy farm!" said Ed. "When did this happen?"

"What? Identification, please." Rollins pointed to the sensor plate mounted on the gate, and Ed placed his hand on it. "Edward Halloran. We were told you'd be here soon."

"Yeah, it's me. And it's urgent that I see President Litton immediately."

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Halloran." Rollins took the pistol from its holster and pointed it in the general direction of Ed. "You're under arrest for subversion."

Ed couldn't believe it. He stared at the guard who kept the pistol trained at his midsection. "What for? Subversion? Litton knows better than that!"

"It's not President Litton's order. She's ill. This is from acting president Macklin." Tears were now streaming down the Rollin's face. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't know what else to do."

"You could turn me loose," said Ed. "Pretend you never saw me."

"That won't work, Mr. Halloran. You checked in on the Identifier, so everybody knows you're here now."

"Yeh. And I sure couldn't run away because even your old grandmother could catch me."

"I've got an idea," said the guard. "I won't be too careful since you're so old. Give me a little shove when we get next to the pit."

Rollins dropped the pistol to his side and gave Ed a little shove. "That way. I'll say when." Ed started up the walk, a half step ahead of the guard. "Now," said Rollins, quietly, when they were adjacent to one of the pits. Ed gave him a feeble push but it was enough because the young man tumbled off into the pit. Rollins' weapon discharged when he landed, scorching three or four aliens in the process. Ed hurried back toward the gate as fast as his arthritis would allow.

Two aliens waited perfectly still beside the gate, one on either side of the walk. Ed couldn't tell if they were watching him since aliens don't watch in a human manner. Perhaps they were waiting for him, but maybe they weren't, so he started out between them. Then just as he was even with them, long skinny arms zipped out from slits on the sides of each. Their thin fingers unfurled and wrapped tightly around Ed's arms. Ed tried to pull away but these aliens were very strong. And they were very heavy. Ed couldn't budge with the aliens holding tightly.

"Turn me loose!" yelled Ed. He struggled but could not get away. His arms began to burn where the aliens held him, and their grip was so tight that it cut off the circulation. Then his hands were becoming numb. Then Ed's chest began to pound and pain permeated his body. "Turn my arms loose!" he cried. "I've got to have my medicine!" The aliens maintained their hold and Ed tried to twist around so he could see if anybody was coming to help, but he could not. Then his legs turned rubbery and he slumped, supported by his arms by the aliens, until the world around Ed faded.

* * *

Ed was in a bed when consciousness returned. The bed was soft and the cool sheets felt good, but he was weak. He could hardly move his body and both arms were numb. Ed's glasses were gone so the room was only a blur, but he could see the light colors around him. "Ah, we're coming around," he heard a pleasant female voice say. "How are we feeling now?"

"Huh? Have you been out too?" Ed strained to see the person who spoke to him, but could not.

"How are we feeling?" the voice repeated. "If you won't talk, it's going to be hard to care for you, you know!"

"I don't know how you're feeling," said Ed, "but I feel like crappy."

"Now, now! There's no need for that attitude!" The person stepped next to Ed's bed and he could see her but couldn't quite make out the features of her face without his glasses.

"Where am I? What am I doing here?"

"You're in SecureCare. It seems you had a fight with two Veezee, and you lost! You ought to know better at your age! And in your shape, at that!"

"SecureCare? That's the prison hospital, isn't it?"

"That's right," the voice said pleasantly. "But we're not all that bad if you just give us a chance. You'll be well before you know it!"

"Hmpf. I don't guess there's any point to getting better. I go from here to jail if I recover. Last I heard, subversives aren't ever released. Unless maybe President Litton gets better soon and corrects this mess."

"Oh! That's right! You couldn't know. President Litton is dead! That was two days ago and Jerrold Macklin has already been sworn in!"

"Oh no! That's the worst that could possibly happen!"

"Well, I wouldn't know about that. My department is medicine." She picked up Ed's glasses and put them on him and her features came into focus. This woman was much younger than Ed, probably only around sixty-five. She was pretty, slender, and moved with an ease that Ed envied. "I'm Doctor Santos. Anna Maria Santos."

"Doctor—Doctor Santos. What's the deal with my arms? Why can't I feel anything?"

"We're not sure. There's no medical history to deal with people injured by aliens. We figure it's some kind of toxin. I'm afraid it's too early for a prognosis. But on the other hand, we can do wonders for your heart. You're probably good for another twenty years!"

"Yeah, great! You can keep me alive for years but I spend the time in jail and I can't do anything! It doesn't matter anyway. I'll never be released."

"Don't worry about that right now," said the doctor. "You must have your rest." Doctor Santos took a hypodermic from the tray beside the bed and leaned over toward Ed. "This will put you out for a while." Ed especially didn't want to be put out again, so he tried to pull away from the doctor, but he could not. The injection took effect within seconds and the world faded around Ed once more.

* * *

When Ed awoke again, he had a visitor (human, not alien) but he couldn't see who it was because he didn't have his glasses. "Who is it?" asked Ed. "Who's in here? Where are my glasses?"

The visitor patted Ed's hand, but he couldn't feel it because there was still no sensation below his elbows. Then the visitor kissed him on the forehead, before putting his glasses on him. It was Arlene Sisk.

"What! Why are you here?" Ed turned his head to get a better look at Arlene. She looked a bit ridiculous because she'd been wearing the thick cosmetic again to cover the green stain, but recent tears had washed green trails down from her eyes.

Arlene wrote a note on a pad and held it for him to see. The note, in large printed letters said, "Be careful what you say because this place is wired."

Ed acknowledged the message with a nod. "How have you been, Arlene?"

"Fine. I've been doing just fine," said Arlene, as she furiously printed another message. "You know, we're getting a lot of help from Veezee. They've got a lot of great technology for excavations and things like that." She held this note for him to see. It said, "They're taking over and we have to fight back. I'm on your side." Then she wadded the papers and put them in her bag.

Ed nodded again. "Excavations, huh? Are they going to teach us how to live in holes?"

"When I asked permission to see you, President Macklin asked me to give you a message—a deal, actually," said Arlene. "He said a courtmartial would be bad for you and the government both, and that you'd probably wind up in prison for the rest of your life, so he has another offer."

"A deal? With that traitor? I'd rather rot!"

Arlene shook her head. "You haven't even heard it yet. As soon as you're out of the hospital, you can go back to Kingman and be under supervision—like house arrest except a little looser. You wear an ankle bracelet that identifies your position and nobody cares where you go unless you get out of bounds. Of course you won't be running the army."

Ed turned his face away. He couldn't believe that even Arlene would bring such a deal. "Tied up like an animal! Why don't they bring back the firing squad?"

Then he turned back to look at Arlene again. Tears were sliding down the little green trails again, and she held another note for him to see. It said, "Just do it, stupid."

"Okay," he said weakly. "I guess I'm out of choices."

### 41

April 2, 2113

It hadn't turned out to be so bad, at least for the first few weeks. The supervision bracelet didn't bother Ed very much as long as he stayed inside the bounds, and that allowed him to walk around most of Kingman Army Base, except near headquarters. And since Ed was no longer an important human in the affairs of the nation, the blue alien left him alone most of the time, except for when Ed invited the alien inside his magnetically shielded domain to pry about alien thoughts away from the control of the great Eldest Veezee.

But on the other hand, Ed was no longer in control of anything. The new president had installed a new commander who came from the upper echelons of AABC. This new commander, Colonel Vance Eldredge, had a mandate from President Macklin to facilitate the integration of Veezee into American life. Everybody knew that meant control of Terrestrials (especially Americans) by the aliens, with Macklin as a puppet leader and with Macklin's lackies in control of all institutions.

* * *

It was around 7:30 a.m. when Marilee Sharp came to Ed's quarters for a visit before reporting to work at Headquarters. When she came to the door, Ed let her inside and quickly locked the door before the blue alien could come to investigate. She gave him a warm hug. "Want to talk for a few minutes?" she asked.

"Sure. I'd like to but this place has to be wired," he whispered. "You can't say anything you don't want Eldredge to hear."

She grinned. "That's not quite true. They have pickups everywhere but I found out they don't work. Eldredge's thugs are still trying to figure it out."

Ed laughed. "It's the shielding, just like at the magport. They'll figure it out pretty soon but they'll have to tear the house down to get it out. I sure hope they don't. They'd find my guns!"

"You've got guns in here?"

"You better know it. I've got them hidden in the kitchen. Come on. I'll show you where they are, in case you ever need one of them."

"Let's go sit in the kitchen anyway. I smell some fresh coffee in there." She followed Ed into the kitchen and poured two cups of coffee and set them on the table while Ed pulled a drawer from the cabinet and showed her where the two weapons were attached to the back. "There're bullets behind the next drawer down for the old revolver—which you probably should leave alone anyway—and the ion laser still has a couple of hundred charges in it."

They sat down at the table and started to sip the hot drinks. Then Ed asked, "What's going on outside in the world?"

"Oh, you know. You watch the vidscreen."

"That's not what I mean. What's happening with the resistance? Have you heard from Taylor?"

"Not lately. But I think a lot of what's going on is his doing. We got most of the lasers off base before Eldredge got here and he doesn't know anything about them. I managed to check a couple of times and the weapons are slowly disappearing. I think Richie is taking them to the resistance."

"So it's Richie now? I thought you two were enemies."

She grinned. "He's a pain in the pony, but I miss him. I wish I could get in touch."

"Yeah. Me, too." Ed stopped talking to daydream about what he could be doing with the ankle bracelet off. He could picture himself getting into the floater (without a blue alien following) and scooting off to New Mexico or Texas or some other place where people fight for freedom so he could find a resistance group to join, like Richie Taylor. Or maybe he could just float into Flagstaff to talk to that Herman fellow. That would be profitable because Herman could be encouraged to invent some really wild gadgets to antagonize aliens.

_How about laser weapons mounted on some of those floating cameras like the video news networks use?_ Ed thought maybe Herman would know how to make them work. And he probably could even figure out a way to make the magtrain people pay for them. All of it would be possible if Ed could just get away from his confinement.

"You're not listening to me! I thought you might need some company, but you haven't heard a word I've been saying!"

"Huh? Oh, no! I listen! Well, okay. Maybe I do drift off, but I don't mean anything by it. Now, what was that again?"

"They've got some kind of trouble with your bracelet. I wasn't supposed to hear it, but Eldredge has somebody assigned to monitor the screen that shows where you are all the time, but the ID disappears whenever you go into your quarters."

"What? Hmm... The shielding in the house must be doing that too! I wonder... I wonder if I could get it off without triggering the alarm?"

"You wouldn't... " Marilee began. "Yes. I do believe you would."

"You better believe I would! I'd rather be dead than tied up like an animal!"

"But how would you get it off? Don't you have to have some kind of special key?"

"Yeah. Usually. But I bet Victor Herman could figure out how to get me out of this. You can contact him and get him over here to see me."

"Maybe I can but it'll take a while. Eldredge keeps tabs on everybody—me included. I'll have to wait until I'm sent off base for some other reason. But I promise, I will see him for you."

* * *

Mid afternoon, Ed sat watching through his window as the blue alien and four other aliens sloshed around the perimeter of the pit in the yard at Ed's quarters. At first, he didn't know why, but then he realized the pit was being gradually enlarged. The aliens had some kind of machine that shaved a few centimeters from the outside wall of the pit. Since the alien pits were always made near perfectly round, he wondered what would limit the size of this one. Would they stop when they reached the trunk of the globe willow tree near the pit? The excavation had undoubtedly already damaged the tree's roots so it would soon be dropping its leaves in the Arizona heat. Or would they somehow get past the tree and then stop when the pit reached the side of Ed's house?

Ed was still wondering about the pit when he saw an object come sailing through the air, landing near the alien pit. It appeared to be a large piece of coarse fabric, much like a blanket, except round. Then several more of the round cloths sailed into the yard, one of them going right into the alien pit. "What the devil is going on here?" he asked, of nobody in particular, since he was alone. One of the aliens broke from the circle and shuffled over to the round cloth and began to spurt out its body's gooey substance onto the cloth, just as if it were about to jump over an obstacle it thought was in the way. Then suddenly, the cloth snapped and the outside of it pulled together, closing it up like a bag with a drawstring. The alien skeleton then jumped near the bag that held its life substances. It jumped on the bag and probed about it for a minute or two, until its movements became erratic. Then the alien reeled about for a few seconds before it collapsed and became perfectly still. Ed mulled about the occurrence but he could not imagine what had happened to the alien.

Then one of the other aliens left the pit, after going through the usual procedure. That alien wandered over to one of the round cloths near the pit, and it also spewed goo onto the cloth. Again, the cloth snapped shut around that alien's body fluids and it went through the same hysterics as the first before sprawling on the ground, obviously quite dead.

Ed only figured it out when he saw the blue alien coming from the pit. And he couldn't let the second oldest common Veezee alien die. He hurried to the door, hobbling faster than he usually could. Then around the corner of the house, he saw the blue alien headed toward one of the cloths. "Stop! Don't move!" yelled Ed. The blue alien stopped perfectly still a few meters from the cloth.

"What's the idea?" asked Victor Herman. "I thought you wanted to get rid of the blue alien."

Ed hadn't even seen the magport engineer until he spoke, and now Ed had to wait until he could catch his breath before he could speak. "I've changed my mind. That one is useful. Inside the house, it tells us stuff we couldn't begin to learn any other way."

"Well, the traps are disabled now," said Herman. He held a plastic object about 10cm long in his hand. It had a shiny metal rod protruding, and three round buttons. Herman pushed the metal rod until it disappeared into the object, then he handed it to Ed. "It's yours, if you want it. The switch that's labeled ENABLE turns it on. FAKE makes sonar signals that look like little ledges to step over, and TRAP makes it shut on that alien stuff, which they'll soon die without."

"Yeah, I want it." Ed put the device in his pocket. "I just don't want to use it on that particular alien." Then Ed stepped back in the house. Herman followed him. The blue alien had also shuffled over and it followed them into the house.

Ed went to his desk and slumped in the chair. He pulled the top drawer open and offered Herman a vial of Smel-Numb. "Personally, I can't stand it in here with the alien if I don't have some of this."

Herman took the vial and applied a couple of drops under his nose. "Yes, I see why you need it. I've never been in a space quite this small with an alien before. Why does this one come inside anyway? Most of the others that I've noticed stay outside or at least only go into very large buildings."

"That's a puzzle to me, too. How about that, Veezee?" Ed turned to the alien. "Why do you come in here but all the other aliens like to stay outside?"

"Veezee think better outside. Veezee can not do well what humans call 'see' inside the buildings which humans make."

Ed was puzzled. "Exactly what do you mean? Why can't you see well?"

"Veezee seeing is strange inside," said the alien.

"I've got it figured out," said Herman. "The sonar bounces off the walls and they get all kinds of confusing blips. It probably looks to them like the carnival mirror room looks to us."

"Makes sense," said Ed. "You can get out of the mirror room, but you have to take it kind of slow. That alien doesn't get around too swift in here either."

Then Ed thought of something else. "Hey, I've got something cute to show you. Follow me." Ed walked out of the room and activated the little barricade rods behind him. Ed went straight to the door, opened and closed it, then went into the next room where they waited. The blue alien went through its procedure of disgorging goo, leaping over the rods, and then recombining, but it took a while for it to get to the front door. The alien assumed that Ed and Herman had gone outside, so it went right outside to follow them. Ed went to the door and locked it so the alien couldn't get back inside.

"Boy! That's not too smart!" said Herman. "I thought they were all supposed to be more intelligent than that!"

"They are," said Ed. "That is, if they're all connected together so they have a lot of total thought power. But when you get one in a shielded building like this, it's not quite as smart as a dog, even if it can talk. That one tells me things in here the old boy Veezee wouldn't dream of allowing if it knew it."

"That could be very useful sometime," said Herman, "but I'm sure it's not why one Lieutenant Sharp asked me to come see you."

"No. It's not. Did Marilee tell you I've been incarcerated?"

"Uh, yeah. She did. Supervisor ankle bracelet, I believe she said."

"That's right." Ed pulled his trouser leg up a bit to show the bracelet to Herman. "Do you know anything about these things?"

"I suppose you mean like, how to get it off?

"Yeah. That's exactly what I mean. Without tripping alarms or setting off the pain generators, preferably."

"Sure. I know how they're made, and I can safely get it off inside here where it's shielded." Herman took a coin from his pocket, popped the bracelet open, and handed it to Ed.

"It didn't zap you or me either!" said Ed. "I didn't know it would be that easy!"

"Close it again," said Herman. "Now when you go outside you can simply carry it with you. Or you could leave it home and then they couldn't track you."

"But they'd figure out it was off, wouldn't they?"

"Yeah. But not if you're careful. You could go out at night without it, and nobody would notice. Or you could go out for a few days if somebody would come and carry that thing around now and then so it wouldn't look like you got away from it."

* * *

It wasn't hard for Ed to figure about where Richie Taylor was operating. The news reports connected alien slayings around the country with several underground operations but the ELA—Earth Liberation Army—was most prominent. That was also the organization that seemed to be involved most of the time when laser weapons were used and since Taylor would have access to more lasers than anybody else, it stood to reason that he organized or supplied that group. But how would anybody get in touch with him?

Marilee Sharp had given him the answer to that when she told Ed about the cave in New Mexico where the arms were hidden. So Major Baines gathered supplies for him—bottled drinks, army food rations, a change of clothes, a bed roll, and even a laser pistol—and had them all packed in a high level floater which he left just off base. Baines also assigned a private to carry the supervisor bracelet around the camp occasionally while Ed was gone. Of course that meant somebody else had to be assigned to distract the blue alien and Ed especially hoped that person was successful.

Authorities had closed the cave many years earlier where the weapons were kept, because it had been the scene of several serious accidents. It was also far from the beaten path and somewhat hard for anybody to reach with a regular floater so that made it isolated and thus all the more ideal for storing the weapons. Ed found the place easily enough but he wouldn't think of going inside. In fact, he decided he probably couldn't even make it up to the cave's entrance. So he stopped the floater on the next rise and let it settle gently into the brush where he could watch the opening of the cave. Ed got out and pulled brush over the floater. Then he adjusted the seat back to a comfortable angle, propped the gull-wing door up about half way to let the breeze inside, and settled in to watch and wait.

Ed saw hikers while he waited for Richie Taylor. On two separate occasions, hikers passed between Ed and the cave. Neither time did they see Ed, and they either didn't know about the cave or had been warned to stay away from it. Ed decided they probably didn't know about it because the entrance was almost invisible through the brush.

Hours passed and dusk fell heavily over the forest. Ed was getting quite tired so he ate a good portion of the rations, closed the gullwing door to keep out bugs and snakes. (He'd heard snakes didn't dwell at this altitude, but didn't quite believe it.) Then he pulled the blanket over him and tried to sleep. But tired as he was, he couldn't sleep because it was stuffy within the confines of the floater so he threw off the blanket and tossed and squirmed. It was still stuffy so he decided to take for fact the information about snakes at altitude and he propped the gullwing open again. This time he pulled the blanket over him and quickly dozed off.

The dawn came and the sunlight, fluttering through gently blowing leaves, woke Ed. Though his joints were stiff from sleeping on the floater seat, Ed was rested and quite awake. Just about when he was going to crawl out of the floater and head for the bushes, Ed spotted movement on the trail and waited for the latest pair of hikers to pass.

When he was just about certain the path was clear, Ed started to get out of the floater again. But, before he could move, a hard pointed object poked him behind his left ear. Ed tensed. The laser pistol was in his belt, hidden by his shirt tail, but he didn't know what was pointed at his head, except that it was undoubtedly a weapon of some sort.

"Who's there? What do you want?" asked Ed. His voice had almost left during the night in the woods, and he could barely get the words out.

I'm backing off," came the whisper. "But I've still got you covered, so don't try anything. Come out slowly, with your hands up, and don't make any noise."

Slowly was about the only way Ed could have gotten out of the vehicle anyway, but he couldn't help making noise as he stumbled over the brush. Out and away from the vehicle, Ed turned to see who had the drop on him but the person had retreated behind thick foliage. Then suddenly, Richie Taylor came charging out of the bushes.

"Colonel Halloran! What're you doing hiding out here?" Taylor rushed up and hugged Ed so hard he almost lost his breath. "I'm sorry, Colonel! It's just been so long since I've been in contact with anybody!"

"It's not Colonel Halloran any more, Richie. I've been arrested and demoted back to nothing. I'm a prisoner now."

Taylor looked puzzled. "You don't look much like a prisoner."

"But I am. Or at least my supervisor bracelet is." Ed went on to tell Taylor the whole story about his arrest, imprisonment, and escape. In turn, Taylor filled Ed in on his adventures with the resistance—all five groups he'd located and the other three he organized.

"So, are you out to stay? Or are you going back, Colonel?"

"I don't know. I hate not being free, and I don't feel like I'm helping the cause while I'm incarcerated. But if I don't go back, it'll probably go hard on Marilee and Baines. I guess I'm going back. I just wish we had a secure way to contact you."

"Maybe we'll think of something," said Taylor. "I know how to contact you or Marilee anyway. If I come up with something, I'll let you know. Don't bother to come back here, though, because all the weapons are just about all gone so I won't be back. I just came back for the last half-case of laser pistols, six of them."

"Gone? Where did you move them?" asked Ed.

"Most of them are distributed, but I have the rest stashed in Colorado in four places. ELA groups know where they all are."

"ELA groups? Like more than one?"

"Yes sir. I handle publicity for all the resistance I have anything to do with, so they're all ELA. But none of them know anything about the rest, except that they exist. It's safer that way."

"So if we hear from a group that's not ELA, it'll be somebody else entirely."

"That's right. And I hope we do, Colonel. It wouldn't seem quite so lonely out here."

"Hmm. I can't do much about other groups in my position, but maybe I can think of something else." Ed was already thinking about encouraging Marilee to desert Eldredge's army in favor of covert resistance, after they find some way to maintain contact.

A small group of hikers appeared on the path so Ed and Taylor retreated behind dense foliage. One member of this group suddenly yelled something about seeing a cave, so they all waited while that young man climbed up to the cave's entrance and disappeared inside. Ed could only hope the fellow didn't find the weapons. But the man came out a few minutes later carrying the box with the flaps opened up. "Hey, wait'll you see what I found!"

"Are those real?" someone asked when the man had rejoined his group and displayed the contents of the box.

"Yeah. I think so." He took one of the pistols from the box and aimed it at one of his companions, who protested. Then he pointed it toward a large gnarled tree with grotesque limbs that testified of windstorms and lightning strikes. Suddenly, the pistol discharged with a brilliant blue flash and one of the limbs fell off, leaving a smoking stump from the side of the tree. "Yaaah!" He put the pistol back in the box.

"I want one of those," said another hiker. "I could blast stinky aliens with that, just like the ELA!"

Soon the hikers were leaving, with the last of Taylor's laser pistols stuck into their belts."

"I hope those people put the safeties on," whispered Taylor.

"Me, too. Sure wouldn't leave much of them if one went off. Come on. Let's get out of here."

As soon as the hikers were out of sight, Ed watched as Richie Taylor disappeared back into the brush, and was gone.

### 42

May 5, 2113

Over a period of several days, resistance grew across the nation and not only in the South and Southwest. Each day vidscreens brought news of ambushes and guerilla raids on aliens. The reports embarrassed Macklin so much that he considered muzzling the news, but he was advised against it, so instead he pressured reporters to slant stories in favor of the government's efforts in integrating aliens into American society. That tactic worked fairly well for Macklin, because there was rarely a report that did not refer to the freedom fighters as criminal or radical or subversive. It was small wonder that so many reporters sided with Macklin's government after mandatory sensitivity training was increased to a hundred hours, and media licenses were being reassigned on only administrative review.

The underground newspaper took an anti-alien and anti-government stand though, and flourished. Ed didn't know for sure who published the paper but he thought it might have been one of his former troops who came from media ranks. Major Baines probably knew, but it was best if few others knew, so Ed wouldn't ask the major. But no matter who wrote it or who printed the old-fashioned paper journal, a copy came to Ed's quarters every week at irregular times.

There were not enough resistance fighters to win a war with a hundred million aliens, but there were enough fighters so that aliens feared to venture alone or in small groups. Ed Halloran had learned from the blue alien that Veezee had postponed a plan to organize humans around the world into small groups that could be managed by the aliens, and it was all because of the danger. It was not because aliens feared death for individual Veezee because the death of one or several of the aliens, interconnected as they were, was not considered death. After all, no alien thought nor any portion of the alien psyche would be lost, but Veezee recognized that large numbers of individual aliens would be necessary to control the humans. Veezee also knew that humans, except for those loyal to Macklin and Eldredge of the United States and similar puppet rulers of other nations, would have to be disarmed.

* * *

Ed was almost smug as he sat reading his copy of The Rabble while eating breakfast. The paper had been carefully edited to protect the identities and security of freedom fighters, but Ed could see Richie Taylor's work represented in some of the stories. He could also see the blue alien at his window, but chose to ignore it until he had finished eating, because he knew that windows were quite opaque to aliens' sonar sensory perception. But the blue alien somehow knew that Ed could see out the window, so it always went to the window when it wished to visit with Ed or had new instructions from the Eldest Veezee.

Ed pushed away from the table and took his dishes to the sink. He applied a couple of drops from the vial of Smel-Numb that he kept in the kitchen, and then he went to the door. Ed almost went outside before he remembered the supervisor bracelet. He went back for it, stuck it in his pocket, and then went out to greet the blue alien.

The blue second oldest common Veezee was still standing beside the window. "Hey, Veezee!" yelled Ed. "What's the latest from old stinky?"

"I do not understand Halloran," said the alien. "I do not understand meaning of old stinky words in the present context. Do you speak disparagingly of Veezee?"

"Come on inside. I'll explain it to you."

"If I go into your house, you will activate the barriers again. Veezee do not wish to be tricked."

"I promise I won't do anything tricky. It's too hot for an old human out here, so I'm going back inside."

The alien followed Ed into the house. Ed sat on a comfortable chair and the alien stood nearby. "Now, what was it you wanted to talk about today?" asked Ed.

"The Eldest Veezee orders you to disarm the humans because they are killing too many of Veezee."

"Too many, huh? How many would be just enough?"

"Order the humans to stop killing Veezee. Veezee know that Halloran has influence over the humans that are called Earth Liberation Army, so Halloran can order Earth Liberation Army to stop killing Veezee."

"So it's finally got to be a problem with the Veezees, huh? Well, I'm glad about it, but I don't have anything to do with the ELA. After all, I'm a prisoner here myself."

"Order the humans to stop killing Veezee."

"What's Veezee going to do about it if humans keep killing aliens?"

"Veezee will kill humans. Eldest Veezee say we kill two humans when one Veezee is killed."

"Uh... How are you going to pick the humans to kill?"

"Veezee will kill important humans first, except important humans who are helpful to Veezee."

Ed shivered at this revelation. "When's all this revenge supposed to start?"

"That time is not planned yet. It will be planned when your President of the United States of America Macklin and your colonel who commands the army Eldredge meet with the Eldest Veezee to talk about the problem. Halloran could stop it first if Halloran would order humans to stop killing Veezee."

"I've got to go somewhere," said Ed. "You have to leave now." Ed got up and started toward the door, and the alien sloshed along behind him.

"Halloran promised no trick," said Blue.

"So I did, and I'll keep my word but you have to stay in your hole out there. I'm going to see somebody and you can't come along."

Outside, the blue alien didn't follow Ed as he walked across the base. Ed looked back several times to make sure, but the alien went to the pit and stayed until Ed had turned the corner and was out of sight. There were several other aliens milling about on the base, mostly accompanied by humans, and none paid any attention to Ed. So Ed looked for the young Private Jefferson who seemed able to get messages to the editor of The Rabble.

Jefferson was working on the lawn at the headquarters building when Ed found him, but Ed could not approach him because headquarters was out of bounds for the supervisor bracelet. Ed walked as near as he could, passing on the other side of the street while he tried to get Jefferson's attention without anyone else noticing. Ed almost gave up before he made eye contact with the private. Then a nod communicated to Jefferson that Ed wished to talk. When Ed turned the corner, he glanced back and saw Jefferson gathering up his lawn tools.

A couple of blocks from headquarters, Ed saw Jefferson trimming weeds that were growing up around the curb repellers. "You got something for me, sir?" asked Jefferson.

"Yeah. I've got something The Rabble editors ought to know about." Ed quickly gave Jefferson the information about the alien plan to kill two humans for each alien that was done in by ELA, and Eldredge and Macklin's complicity in it.

"I'll see what I can do," said Jefferson as he whacked furiously at the weeds. "It's getting tougher to get stuff outside any more. I'm surprised somebody's not watching me right now."

"Well, just do the best you can," said Ed. "I'd better get out of here before somebody does see us talking."

* * *

The news was out. After the story in The Rabble, national news media had to acknowledge the possibility of alien retribution. Most stories focused on the Earth Liberation Army's role in bringing justifiable revenge from aliens, and "public service" ads hammered the point home. The few reporters who didn't push the official line were silenced by license revocation.

For a few days, the publicity effectively did what Ed Halloran refused to do, because the ELA and its allies would not knowingly bring pain and death to innocent humans. Resistance attacks on aliens almost completely ceased and aliens seemingly owned the cities. But then the resistance started its activities again in Houston and several surrounding cities. Unlike before, the news media reported each incident in great detail and editorialized consistently about the great danger the criminal ELA was creating for the Earth's human population. It also appeared from PNN polls that most of the human population now opposed the actions of the ELA, because of perceived danger.

### 43

May 15, 2113

Marilee Sharp understood the code word FLAGSRAFF in the terse message that was on her desk screen when she reported to work. Anyone else who saw the memo would have thought only that it contained a typographical error, but Marilee knew the letter substitution meant that Richie Taylor wanted to meet her at a predetermined location. In this case, Taylor wished her to go to the Flagstaff magtrain station as quickly as she could get away. All capital letters in the message told her it was important, that she should go immediately without waiting for a work assignment to explain her absence, even if it meant deserting from the army.

Sharp was as willing as any person ever was to serve the Resistance Movement, even in the face of personal danger. But the thought of deserting gave her a chill, because it meant leaving Ed Halloran to whatever mercies Eldredge and his alien comrades might deem suitable for an old freedom fighter. But she also knew that Ed would want her to go.

Marilee stepped out of her office and spoke to the corporal who answered comphones for headquarters. "How about covering for me for half an hour while I run an errand?"

The corporal agreed and Marilee went by her quarters and picked up the bag she kept packed with some civilian clothes, a few supplies, and a laser pistol. Then she went to the floater pool and checked out a high level floater. Marilee took the floater to a couple of locations on the base, then parked it on a lot with five others about a hundred meters from Ed's prison quarters. She walked from there to Ed's place and rang the callbell.

Ed opened the door. "What is this? You'll get trouble for coming here now, when you should be at HQ! Come in here before somebody sees you!"

Marilee stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Then she hugged Ed until he almost lost his breath. "That's not a standard way to treat a prisoner!" he gasped. "What's all that about?"

Tears welled in Marilee's eyes. "I've been called away. I won't see you any more!"

"What? Army? Where would they send you?"

"No. It's the ELA. Richie wants me to join him, and not come back here. But I'm afraid for you!"

Ed choked back his emotions. "If you have to go, don't worry about me. Just be careful."

After Marilee reached Flagstaff, she parked the floater twice and left it unattended for a few minutes each time. Since nobody seemed to have followed her, she decided it was safe to go to the station.

The second time she stopped, Marilee took her bag into a rest room and changed into her civilian clothes. Then she checked her appearance in the mirror and when she was satisfied, she tossed the army fatigue uniform into a trash bin.

Any other time, she would have parked the floater manually in an outer lot at the magport but there was no reason to save money for the government now. Marilee guided the floater to the entrance of the parking garage and let the autopark system take over. As soon as the system took control of the floater, she worried that the parking automatic ID system would give her away but by then it was too late. The system guided the floater into an unoccupied bay and let it settle gently into a padded cradle.

Marilee got out of the floater and walked to the front exit, instead of taking the elevator to the terminal. She strolled along near a group of people who seemed to be going into the terminal, but stopped outside when they went in. She wondered where Richie Taylor would be, and if he would be disguised. Would she recognize him? And what would she do if something had happened and Richie wasn't even here?

Nobody outside the terminal seemed to pay any attention to Marilee. A few people came from the parking garage and others arrived in floaters that dropped them off right in front of the station, but all went directly inside. After a few minutes, Marilee went inside too.

Very few people were in the station at mid-morning, and that worried Marilee. A crowd would have given her some cover. As it was, she felt conspicuous—almost as if she wore a large sign proclaiming she was a deserter. She took a chair near some people who were waiting for the Las Vegas magtrain, and tried to blend in. The Las Vegas train came in a little while and all those people left, so she found another area, where people were waiting for a Chicago train.

After a few minutes, everyone going to Chicago had gone. Only Marilee and the old man with bushy eyebrows were left waiting at the Chicago gate. "Did you miss your train?" asked the old man.

"Uh... I decided not to go," said Marilee. "Maybe I'll take a later train." She thought, _what's it to you anyway?_

The old fellow smiled. "Perhaps you'd like to take a trip with me instead. I've got a floater outside."

It was Richie behind the bushy eyebrows! "What! Richie Taylor!"

In the next instant, she was in his strong arms. She sobbed even though she felt truly secure for the first time since Richie Taylor had left the army base. He hugged her tightly and her head nestled under his chin.

"Hey, please hold it down!" whispered Richie. "I don't want to announce my presence to the world! Come on! Let's get out of here!"

They had to take a shuttle to outer parking where Richie had left a nondescript old floater, a cheap Transfly model about ten years old with a dull blue color. "You'll have to get in over here and scoot across," said Richie. "That door is stuck."

"That's okay," said Marilee. "I'm just glad to get away from the station. I feel like everybody looks at me and knows I'm deserting."

As soon as they were on the highway speeding away from Flagstaff, Richie explained the urgency of their meeting. "We're going to Washington and we're going to bring the government down. I want you out of the army so you won't get caught in a bad position."

"What? That's treason! Fighting aliens is okay! But destroying our own government is something else!"

"It has to be, Marilee. We have evidence—solid evidence—that Macklin murdered President Litton. Macklin and Eldredge conspired with the aliens to poison Litton and grab power."

"Murder," she whispered. "That's unbelievable!"

"We had just about stopped fighting the aliens," said Richie, "because we just didn't know what else to do when they started killing innocent people for retribution. But now we know they plan more killings to keep people in line, and Macklin and Eldredge are in on it?"

"That's almost beyond imagination!" said Marilee. "How could you find out something like that anyway?"

"We have our sources. Or I guess source would be more accurate. One highly placed government official has come over to our side secretly, and is feeding us information."

"And you believe your source? What if it's a setup?"

"You're not the only one who's thought of that possibility, but I know better. I know the person myself and I'm sure that person is highly idealistic and above reproach. I'm just afraid she'll get found out!"

_She_. He said _she_ , thought Marilee. _That narrows it down, but not by much._ "You're not going to tell me who it is, are you?"

Richie grinned. "No. It's better if nobody else knows except me and the outside contact."

"Okay. I guess I have to trust you—and your source. But you can tell me how you're going to take Macklin down, if I'm going to be involved in it."

"No," said Richie. "I can't tell you that either."

"But I don't understand. If I'm going to be part of it, I have to know the plan."

"I'd tell you the plan, but there isn't one. I want you to go to Washington and help me make a plan."

"Where are we headed?" asked Marilee.

"We're going to make a stop at Tucumcari first. Then we're going to drive on to Washington. When they find your floater in magport parking, they'll think you took the train. They're probably already looking for you."

"Yes, I'm sure they are by now." Marilee smiled at the thought of Eldredge's officers disrupting magtrain stations all over the southwest. "But we need to go back to the magport anyway. Right now."

"But they'll be there already!" said Richie. "They'll be there looking for you!"

"Maybe not," said Marilee. "I don't want to go back to the train station anyway. I want to see somebody in the port authority building."

Marilee had to tell Richie about engineer Victor Herman and his anti-alien gadgets before he would agree to turn back to Flagstaff. When she described some of Herman's devices for Richie, he admitted that the engineer would be a useful ally.

Richie Taylor slowed the old floater to a crawl, before raising it to its highest cruising altitude. Then he slowly turned the vehicle around the wrong direction in his lane and accelerated the vehicle. Almost instantly they were flung across through the air to the opposite lane and were speeding back toward Flagstaff. "What did you do?" she screamed. "What's going on?"

Richie laughed. "You wanted to go back. I just used an old trick I picked up, that I thought might be useful."

"Yes, but I would have waited for a turn-around crossing." Marilee was still trying to catch her breath. "How did that work anyway?"

"It's pretty simple, actually. The highway repellers sense the vehicle repellers, and they're designed to take care of people who accidentally enter the off-ramp. If you're pointed the wrong way on the highway, the repellers build up a surge that moves your floater to the other side. Couple of weeks ago, I saw some teen-agers showing off this way."

Before they got back to Flagstaff, Marilee called Victor Herman on the floater's comphone. Richie parked the floater in front of the Magport Authority building and Herman met them at the door. He hurried them over to an unmarked executive elevator that carried them quickly to the fortieth floor that held Herman's office and scientific laboratory. Herman took them to the laboratory first, and sent the six technicians down for a rest break.

"Is it safe to talk in here?" asked Marilee.

"Absolutely," said Herman. "What this place lacked before in security and shielding, I've added since the invasion. It's totally soundproof and shielded so well an alien can't think in here."

"From what Marilee tells me, I'm surprised I haven't heard about any of your inventions in the movement," said Taylor.

"I'm not surprised," said Herman. "I showed your Colonel Halloran a couple of tricks, but I've been saving most of these things until we had a real arsenal built up. I'd hate to be caught and put out of business before we really accomplished anything. Halloran agrees with that strategy."

Herman opened a cabinet to reveal a row of shiny lenses peering out like large eyes. Each was attached to a small gray oval. "These were floater cams like the news people use. We got them for tunnel security a long time ago but they were never used. I've added an ion laser weapon on each one that I can aim and fire either from right here or from a mobile panel installed in one of my floaters."

Richie's eyes brightened. "I can see those playing hell with aliens in Washington!"

Then Herman showed them a variety of smaller gadgets, including some sonar trick devices, a fake dead dog with expanding barbs inside (because aliens were known to dine on unwatched pets), and a small microwave transmitter that confused aliens with recorded old alien thoughts. Herman had great hope for the last item. He told them that limited tests caused some confusion even for the eldest Veezee.

"What happens if you turn the power way up on that?" asked Marilee.

"I don't know. Like I said, I've had to limit my testing to keep this lab secret," said Herman. Then the engineer took another box from a cabinet, and handed a couple of small objects from the box to Marilee and Richie. "I've had hundreds of these made and I think you ought to distribute them."

Marilee studied the device. It was a small cylinder with a rubbery bump on the end, and its purpose was not immediately obvious. "What does it do?"

"Push the button on the end," said Herman.

"Oww! That hurts my ears!" said Marilee.

"What hurts? I don't hear anything," said Richie.

"It's a modulated ultrasonic transducer," said Herman. "Most people can't hear it, but you obviously can. This thing just overpowers aliens' natural sonar so they can't tell where they're going. If you use it very often, they'll learn to work around it by reading thoughts from aliens that are just out of range. But if you use it sparingly, it can be very useful for escaping from aliens."

"Can you ship those things somewhere for me?" asked Richie. When Herman said he could, Richie wrote an address on a pad for him. "This is a house in Houston. Nobody lives there, but it's where we stage weapons and supplies."

"I've got a lot more," said Herman. "Would you like to see the robot rats?"

"Yes, but not here." Richie looked at his watch. "We've already been around here longer than it's safe. I wish we could get all your gear to Washington. That's where we need it."

"I can certainly arrange that. Let's put it on a freight magtrain. In fact, I'll go with you so we can all ride the freighter. We can be in Washington in three hours with all this stuff if you want to."

"Sure, said Richie. "But make sure you send those little sonar things to Houston first. It wouldn't hurt to put a note in there about how they work, too."

Herman called the technicians back, and instructed them to pack all the strange weapons and load them onto a freight magtrain that was scheduled to leave for Washington, DC in a half hour. Then he led Marilee and Richie back to the executive elevator that whisked them to the freight magstation.

The freight magtrain swooshed into the station and Herman invited them into the front car where workers were already loading the gear from the lab. "Well, are we ready to take Washington back from the filthy aliens?" asked Herman.

"I'm ready," said Richie. I can hardly wait!"

Marilee nodded. "I'm ready," she said, in a cracking voice. I hope I'm ready, she thought. But this is the scariest thing I've ever done in my whole life!

### 44

Marilee sat quietly as they approached Washington, watching and listening while Victor Herman and Richie talked endlessly about the havoc they would wreak on aliens and collaborators with Herman's gadgets. Herman went on excitedly about his toys. (Herman called them weapons but Marilee knew the gadgets were his toys.) And Richie was excited too. He reminded Marilee of a hunter in one of the old twentieth century cinemas she had seen in a museum. Richie was ready for bold action, tired of his underground war.

Richie glanced back at her. "Hey, what's the matter? You can't be missing the army!"

"No. I don't know what's wrong. Maybe everything just happens too fast. And maybe I don't know if we're doing the right thing. My whole life has been a patriotism drill, but look at us now—getting ready to overthrow the government or die trying!"

"You're thinking about it all wrong," said Herman. "We're not overthrowing the government! We're going to restore it!"

"Yes, I know. That's the way it is when I think about it, but what I feel is a little mixed-up."

"Yeah. I understand that," said Richie, "but it will be different when we get started. You'll see."

Then the train began to decelerate sharply and they knew they were almost in Washington. Soon the train pulled into the brightly lighted freight station and shuddered to a stop. "Wait just a minute before you get up," said Herman. Freight trains don't work like passenger trains." Then the train bumped roughly as the mag-units were de-energized. "Okay. Let's go," said Herman.

Freight workers swarmed to the train then, and Herman caught a couple of them to unload the weapon boxes and told them where to store the boxes in a warehouse.

"What now, friends?" asked Herman.

"First, we scout," said Richie. "We don't do anything without surveying the situation. Things change too fast any more."

* * *

When they were outside, Marilee stifled a cry of surprise. Washington in the alien age was nothing like she had last seen the grand city. The whole atmosphere reeked of alien body waste and all the parks had been turned into the round alien pits. Now the gleaming white sidewalks had become grungy green from aliens shuffling about on them. But what surprised her was that most of the people were gone. To be sure, there were a few floaters zipping over the streets, but the pedestrians that had crowded the walks were mostly gone.

"This is bad," said Marilee. "I wouldn't have recognized it."

"Maybe it's just this neighborhood," said Herman. "It's probably cleaner close to the White House."

"No. It's like this all over," said Taylor. "I was here a few days ago. There are twice as many aliens as humans in Washington now."

They walked a few blocks in the general direction of the White House, passing a few aliens along the way, but no humans. The aliens may have been ignoring them, but it was impossible to tell with aliens. Marilee reached into the bag she carried strapped over her shoulder and patted the laser pistol. Touching the weapon was somehow reassuring.

Then a lime green floater stopped near them and its driver beckoned. The color identified the floater as a taxi. Richie stepped near the floater and its door popped slightly ajar. "You folks tourists or something? No human with any sense walks out here!" called the driver.

"We're not tourists," said Richie. "Not exactly. We're kind of here on business."

"Well, get in," said the driver. "If you can't afford a ride, I'll drop you some place better than this. Like Richmond."

Then Herman spoke. "The fare isn't a problem. We're here to gather information for a project. I'll pay you to drive us around the city for a look."

"Okay," said the driver. The gullwing door that was ajar popped fully open. "Hurry up!"

When they were in the taxi and racing along, the driver said, "Any sign of trouble and we're getting out of here."

"Quite all right," said Herman. "Put this ride on my Magport Authority card."

"They got cards too?"

"They don't need cards," said Herman. "They're with me so I'm taking care of the fare."

The driver muttered something about hoping it worked, then he started the tour. Up one street and down another, they gradually drew closer to the White House, and Marilee saw the city didn't improve at all, even right around the White House. Then she cried out with surprise when she saw the White House. Alien pits of varying diameters had replaced the White House lawn. The pits looked as if they had been calculated to use up the greatest possible area of lawn.

"You folks going to the speech tonight?" asked the driver.

"Whose speech?" asked Marilee.

"President Macklin's. And Colonel Eldredge is going to be there, too. It's something about big changes in the army—deserters and all that. I think there's going to be some word about a plan to crush the resistance groups too."

"You don't say!" said Richie. "Maybe we ought to go. Where's it going to be? And when?"

"Helen Norden Park, in an hour. Norden Park is the last open land around Washington that hasn't been turned into slime holes."

"Say, how long are you on duty?" asked Herman.

I just started," said the driver. "I've got seven more hours. Why?"

"We need to pick up a few things from a warehouse over by the magport station, and then we want to go over to Norden Park for the speech. I'll be glad for you to keep the meter running until it's over."

The driver studied their faces for a moment in the mirror screen for a moment. "You're resistance, aren't you?"

"Don't say anything else," said Richie. "Stop the floater and get out."

The driver's face turned pale, and he complied with Richie's order. The driver and his three passengers stepped out onto the sidewalk. "What's the matter? What're you going to do?"

"If you don't want to help us, that's okay. But we still need to get back to the magport warehouse," said Richie. "But if you are going to help us, we have to take some precautions."

"Like what? I want to join the resistance, but I have to know what you're talking about!"

"Like this." Richie opened the taxi's gullwing on the driver's side. Then he took his laser pistol from the holster in his jacket and demolished the comphone. Next, he burned the sensor for the mirror screen. "You learn a lot of things in my business, like that taxis and police transports are always wired. Somebody could be monitoring everything you say. They could even be getting our pictures on a comscreen."

"Well, I guess I'm definitely in it now. It's okay because I wanted to be. It has always seemed there wasn't any way to find a resistance group around here, but now you've found me!"

Richie introduced himself, Marilee, and Herman to the taxi driver. The driver introduced himself as Mose Clark.

"It'll be getting late. We'd better go get the gear right now," said Marilee. So they all piled back into the taxi and sped back to the warehouse. They loaded the floater taxi with as much gear as its cargo compartment would hold.

There was a huge ProtectoGlas dome over the podium at Helen Norden Park. It was almost invisible but it did have a certain barely perceptible gleam. Immediately in front of the podium were several rows of benches and behind those were hundreds of chairs arranged in huge semicircles with several wide aisles leading back to Macklin Boulevard. There was also a wide-open space behind the last row of chairs. Clark parked the floater on the side of the street so they had a good view of the podium down one of the aisles.

"That's a problem I hadn't counted on," said Richie. "The dome will make it impossible to do anything with Macklin or Eldredge."

"Maybe not," said Herman. "Let's just see what we can do." Herman opened the cargo cover of the floater and began to rummage through the boxes. He came up with two of the little floater cameras and two small thin black cases.

"What are those?" asked Marilee.

"Two cameras complete with ion lasers and two control panels. I'll just get these set up so they're ready." Herman opened one of the small cases, revealing a screen and a hand pad. "Watch this." A picture appeared on the screen. It was Norden Park as viewed by one of the floater cams. Herman put his hand on the hand pad and caused the camera to rise, then move rapidly across the park. It was so small it was hardly noticeable going through the air, but it gave them a clear view of everything in its path. There were fine lines etched into the control panel screen, one vertical and one horizontal intersecting in the screen. "That's the gun sight," said the engineer. He guided the camera into a bush over near the dome and turned it so they had a clear view of that side of the dome. "That's probably where they'll go in. They'll have to open it up to get Macklin and Eldredge inside. I'll try to get the camera in with them." Then Herman opened the other control panel and moved the other camera-weapon up front and turned it so they could see people in the audience.

"Can you control both of those?" asked Richie.

"Not very well. I'm counting on you to drive one of them. Which do you want?"

"I want the one that'll get Eldredge and Macklin. But I need to learn how to use it first."

Herman handed him one of the cases. "Do anything you want with it, except don't touch the red dot because that fires the laser. Other than that, just practice. You can't hurt it."

Richie took the control panel and began to experiment with the directions the hand pad made it move. Pretty soon he was quite adept at steering the little weapon. After he felt comfortable with the control, he parked it back in the same bush where Herman had left it.

"What am I supposed to do? Sit here while you guys shoot up the enemy?" asked Marilee.

"Well, I... uh, supposed you wouldn't be into this sort of thing," said Herman.

"You'd be surprised," said Richie. "Marilee was the top laser marksman on Kingman Base."

"Oh. Then you take over this camera and I'm going to unpack some more surprises."

Marilee took the other control and after a few minutes practice, she could guide the little floating weapon with great precision. She guided it back to its hiding place and turned it again so it could see the audience.

Richie looked at his watch. "It's getting time for the speech. I wonder where everybody is?"

"They'll be here," said Clark. "Nobody with any sense will be out too early because of the danger."

They all helped Herman with unpacking the other devices, but left them inside the floater's cargo bay out of sight. Then Herman made sure that each of them, including Mose Clark, had one of the little hand-held sonar confusors, just in case they had some unexpected contention with aliens.

Then the people started coming in to the park. The seating area started filling up quickly, starting with the benches at front and then spilling over into the hundreds of chairs. Before long, almost all the seats were taken.

"Why do you suppose people come out here to hear the speech?" asked Marilee. "It seems like it would be easier and safer to watch it at home on the screen."

"It would make more sense," said Clark, "but all these people came here to see or be seen. Most of them are bureaucrats and they're here either to make points or to grade loyalty. I should know about these people. I've been driving them around ever since the aliens took over."

Then the aliens started coming. Files of alien rocket globes appeared coming up Macklin Boulevard, all from the east, and the globes stopped in rows in the open area behind the chairs and the aliens started gushing out with their usual dismounting procedure. Then they sloshed and shuffled down the wide aisles toward the front, until they filled the aisles. Until the aliens came, this part of Washington smelled musky and dank, but then this large gathering of aliens caused the park to positively reek.

Richie Taylor frowned. "Now I can't see a thing from here. Up until those stinkers came, I had a clear view of the podium."

"Don't worry about it," said Marilee. "I can see better on the control screen anyway." And it was true. Both control screens showed the podium clearly. "Hey, Herman! Will these things work inside the floater? We could sit inside."

"Yes. They'll work just as well. You all sit inside and do what you have to with the cam-guns. I'm going to wait back here by the cargo bay."

Marilee, Richie, and Clark had hardly settled back into the floater when Richie suddenly said, "They're here! They're coming in on your side!"

Macklin and Eldredge arrived in a government floater that stopped right beside the ProtectoGlas dome. When a section of dome folded up, three aliens sloshed inside first, then Macklin and Eldredge exited quickly and went into the dome. Marilee guided her floater cam-gun around behind the floater and just barely got it inside the dome before it closed. She moved the little cam-gun up beside four other cameras that she was sure belonged to the news networks. It looked as if it belonged.

There were two chairs on the podium, spaced apart. An alien separated the two human leaders and another alien stood at each end. Macklin was a small nervous man with a mousy look to his face. He waved and smiled for the crowd, then made V-for-Victory signs with his fingers like an old time politician. The humans in the crowd rose, bursting into a standing ovation.

Eldredge was a much larger man with a pale face and thick dark moustache. He stood, almost larger than life in his dark blue uniform and beret. The silver insignias on his uniform sparkled in the strong lights. At first the colonel stood impassively, but then he turned to the floating cameras and smiled. But Marilee thought the evil in his eyes belied the smile on his face.

Eldredge stood and faced the crowd and began to speak. "May I have your attention please?" It was phrased as a question but was undoubtedly an order for the crowd to quiet.

"Thank you, citizens, for your attendance tonight. I know it would undoubtedly be more comfortable for each of you to listen and watch from your homes, but I thank you for coming out tonight to show solidarity with Veezee, who are soon to become citizens of our great country. Thank you also for showing leadership for the rest of the planet, because the other nations will certainly follow our example in granting citizenship for Veezee, with all the privileges and responsibilities that brings.

"But I did not come to tell you all of this myself. I present to you President Macklin who will describe the exciting course we're about to take." Eldredge turned slightly. "Mr. President."

Eldredge stepped back but did not sit when the president rose to speak. "My fellow Americans—including our new Americans, the Veezee—there are a number of exciting opportunities for our nation. We also face many challenges. We are beset by enemies who would destroy the wonderfully beneficial relationships that have already flourished between humans and Veezee.

"First, as we have already mentioned, our Visitors have become visitors no more. This nation—this planet—is now their home as it is ours. Our constitution has already been amended to grant full citizenship to Veezee in return for the tremendous technological and sociological benefits they bring. The Eldest Veezee and our congress and cabinet have agreed on the wording. We expect that all of earth's governments will follow shortly. In fact, all of the other governments have already agreed in principle and the necessary details will be completed shortly. Of course, there are a few remaining trivial issues, but I won't expound on those now. However, full details will be available soon as a printed statement through the media."

At this point, all the humans in the park stood and applauded. The aliens made shrill howling sounds that Marilee had never heard before, but she took it to be a form of applause. She listened to the president's words and stared at his image on the screen of the cam-gun control panel. "I can't believe it! How can they be doing this?"

"He sold out," said Richie. "All these people sold out. The people who didn't are all home watching on the screen, and they're afraid. From what they can see, all hope is lost."

Then Herman, who was still standing outside the floater tapped on the gull﷓wing door. Clark raised the door slightly. "I'm going to cause some excitement out here. Keep the floater on, in case we have to escape."

"Sure thing." Clark pushed a couple of switches and set the floater on hover at just a couple of centimeters off the ground, which was not enough to be noticeable to anybody else.

"What's he going to do?" said Richie, turning and craning to see what Herman was up to. "He's going to give us away!"

"Quiet! I'm trying to hear what Macklin is saying!" said Marilee.

But if Herman's actions were premature, it was already too late to stop him. Herman had turned loose two fake dogs and a box of plastic mice and the artificial animals were bouncing around through the crowd of aliens.

Marilee found an amplitude control on the side of the little control panel and turned up the sound so she could hear.

"...no longer need an army," Macklin was saying. "Kingman Army Base will become a prison camp for terrorists. Colonel Eldredge will head the new national police force, drawn from the former military establishment. The new unit will operate the former army base as Kingman Political Rehabilitation Center. Dysfunctional citizens will be treated there until they can be returned to society as useful citizens. But we recognize there are some incorrigibles, and we will hold them as prisoners for life. After all, the good of our nation must come ahead of individuals as is spelled out in the constitution."

"Does the constitution say that?" asked Clark.

"I don't think so, but it doesn't matter to them anyway," said Richie. "It looks like the constitution has just been discarded anyway."

Then aliens discovered the fake animals. A muffled boom came from far down the center aisle and aliens began to mill excitedly. After two more booms, the humans nearest the aisles left their chairs and trampled others while trying to get away from the surging mass of aliens.

"What's going on out there?" screamed Macklin when he saw the disturbance.

An alien next to Macklin said, "Evil humans have killed three noble Veezee with tricks. Many more Veezee have been injured woefully."

"What! They can't get in here, can they? Eldredge, do something!"

"I'll handle it. Agents are already on the way."

Then two of the aliens moved to Macklin's side and grabbed his arms with their skinny fingers. Macklin writhed in pain and moaned, then slumped unconscious. The aliens held him up, and one of them spoke. Marilee couldn't see which it was. "Humans, this violence against Veezee is intolerable. We have already promised that two humans will die when Veezee is killed. Now it will be three humans for each Veezee. Important humans will die first so that our point will be remembered. Your President of the United States Macklin is an important human, so he will die immediately."

Marilee's eyes flashed. "Why, that slime!" Then she remembered the weapon was in her control. She centered the cross-hair on one alien and pressed the red button. That alien melted into a quivering, smoking mass and the other alien struggled to hold onto Macklin. Marilee aimed at that alien and pressed the red button again, reducing the second alien to muck. Macklin fell unconscious into the streams of scorched alien substance. Then Marilee turned the camera quickly around searching for the last alien. She only got a glimpse of Eldredge aiming a laser pistol at the cam-gun, and then the picture went blank.

"Oh, crud! He got the camera!" said Marilee. "We've got to get out of here!"

Clark raised the taxi door completely and yelled at Herman. "They're onto us! We've got to go!"

"Just a minute!" called Herman. "Just two more tricks!" Herman set a box on the ground and pulled up a telescoping antenna. Then he taped down the buttons on a couple of the sonar confusors and tossed them into the crowd of humans, who treated them like live grenades. Then Herman lunged into the taxi just as Clark started to accelerate. The engineer sprawled across the seat and gasped. "Did we make it?"

Richie looked out the back at rapidly approaching lights, a mixture of floater headlamps and alien rocket-globe exhausts. "I think we're caught. We don't have a snowball's chance."

### 45

May 16, 2113

It was early when someone rang the doorbell at Ed's quarters. In fact, it was much too early for the guard who came by each morning to check on prisoners, so Ed figured it was only the blue alien coming to bother him with inane directives from the oldest Veezee. He took his time answering the door. Then the bell began to ring incessantly. "Keep your shirt on," yelled Ed. "I'm coming, but I'm old and slow."

Just before Ed got to the door, it flew open. Colonel Eldredge's new aide, Lt. Breen, had kicked it open. He stood with arms folded in front of the door. "Orders, old guy. The colonel has ordered this place razed so grab your things and have them outside by ten o'clock. We'll get somebody to move your stuff to your new room."

"Torn down! But that's absurd! Why?"

"They're finally on to the shielding. Somebody told Eldredge why that funny looking alien spills his guts to you all the time."

"Ten o'clock, you say? That's not much time," said Ed. "I don't know if I can get it all moved."

"That's not my problem," said Breen. "Ten o'clock."

Breen turned abruptly and left, and Ed stood for a moment watching the lieutenant walk away. Then Ed looked around his place. There wasn't actually much there that he was physically able to move. There was a box of memory crystals that represented his entire library and his clothes were in the closet. Ed put the clothes in a bag and lugged them out into the yard, then went back for the crystals. He put the box of crystals inside the bag of clothes, and then went back in for another look.

When Ed started packing the utensils from the kitchen, he remembered the weapons hidden there. He took out the old revolver and the laser pistol and stuck them behind his belt and pulled his shirt over them. Some of the bullets went into his pocket and some were hidden with the kitchen items. Then he finished packing the utensils and took them out to the yard. When he went back inside again, he figured there was nothing else he could move by himself, so he sat and waited and wondered if somebody would help him get the rest of his belongings before the house was torn down.

The next visitor at Ed's quarters came a few minutes before ten o'clock. Colonel Eldredge banged on the door instead of ringing the bell. Ed didn't even bother to stand. "The door's not locked. Come on in," yelled Ed.

"You're going to have to learn some respect," said the sullen-faced Eldredge. "You will learn some respect if you aim to live much longer." Eldredge stomped inside and stood over Ed.

"I've lived a long time already," said Ed. "I've already learned as much as I want to know."

"We'll see about that." Eldredge made his right hand into a fist, and stood there rubbing it with his left while he stared at his prisoner.

"So are you going to beat me up yourself or send your flunkey?" Ed could see that Eldredge was not carrying a weapon, and he wondered if he could possibly get the laser pistol out of his belt in time if Eldredge attacked him. While he was still considering that, Eldredge noticed the supervisory ankle bracelet lying on the table.

"Hey, isn't that...?" Eldredge picked up the bracelet and looked it over.

"Yeah. It is," said Ed. "I guess it must be defective. It falls off all the time."

"That's not possible! These things never fail!" Eldredge bent over and snapped the bracelet around his own ankle. Then he unsnapped it and snapped it closed again. "I'll have somebody's head for this!"

"I guess that means you're going to get me another one, huh? Even though I'm a model prisoner and I'm still here."

"Not just one. I've got a transport load of them coming—for you and all your friends. This isn't an army base any more. Now it's going to be a prison for traitors."

"Yeah, I know," said Ed. "I saw it on the screen last night, including all the excitement. What I don't know is what happened to Macklin. Did he survive?"

Eldredge smiled. "Nah. We don't need Macklin any more anyway."

"Oh? Then who's going to be president now? Borden or Peterson?"

"Me. I have declared a national emergency and temporarily suspended the constitution for right now."

"I thought the constitution was already gone, when Macklin killed Litton."

Eldredge grinned. "Not all of it. We keep as much as we need."

Then the noise started. Some machines in the yard were stirring up quite a din, banging against the side of the house. "You better get out now," said Eldredge. "That crew won't take more than ten minutes to bring it down."

"But my furniture! Breen said somebody was coming to move my stuff!"

"Forget it, Halloran. This stuff is junk. I'll have somebody bring out an army cot for you. We've got a lot of surplus now, anyway."

Eldredge started out ahead of Ed who trailed along slowly. On an impulse, Ed pushed a switch as he passed, sending the little bars across the doorways. Eldredge tripped and fell headlong out onto the walk. Ed quickly de-activated the rods, then went to the door and looked out at Eldredge who lay half stunned on the walk. "A little clumsy today, aren't we," said Ed.

Angry and sputtering, Eldredge got up and brushed dirt from his blue uniform. He looked as if he was about to say something when half of Ed's house came crashing down. The sudden collapse scared both of them and they scrambled out of the way. "Stay put," said Eldredge. "I'm going to send the guards after you." Eldredge stomped out to his floater, got in, and sped away. The floater was bouncing off the roadside repellers when it left Ed's sight.

After that, there was nothing else for Ed to do except sit down on one of the repeller rails and watch the machine tear down his house, crush the debris and stuff it into a huge bin on the back of the machine. Nothing but litter remained where Ed's house had stood.

Ed waited about an hour before he decided nobody was coming back for him. Ed figured he had a choice then. He wasn't wearing the supervisor bracelet, so he could just wander off the base and probably make it safely to his floater that was parked just off base. Or he could take the weapons he had stuffed under his shirt, walk over to headquarters and start shooting. That way he'd go out in a blaze of glory and get it all over with at once. Ed hadn't really decided what to do for certain, but he leaned toward the idea of punishing as many aliens and collaborators as he could in one final battle. He started walking over to the headquarters building while he thought about it.

There was a commotion in front of headquarters. A troop transport had brought in several prisoners. Both humans and aliens formed the squad that guarded this latest group. Ed decided to go close enough to see if he knew any of the prisoners.

There were some prisoners whom Ed did not know, but he was surprised to see the group included Marilee Sharp, Richie Taylor, and Victor Herman. He was shocked to see that Arlene Sisk was in the group. "Arlene! What in the devil are you doing here?" he yelled.

"It's kind of a long story," said Arlene, "but it looks like I'll have time to tell you about it."

"I'll tell you the best part," said Marilee. "I just found out Ms. Sisk has been the inside contact for the ELA for almost as long as it has existed!"

Ed stared incredulously. "Is that right, Arlene?"

"Yes," she said, her voice cracking. "That was me. When I learned what Macklin did to President Litton, I figured out what the aliens planned so I started looking for a way. It wasn't too hard to find somebody who could talk to the resistance."

Ed threw both arms around Arlene, hugged her tightly, and kissed her. As he did, he thought that the last time he remembered kissing her was nearly fifty years earlier, but she was angry with him then and pushed him away. This time she didn't seem to mind it.

Then one of the human guards called out to another, "Hey, Brady! What are we waiting out here for?"

The other guard said, "Colonel Eldredge told us to wait. He said he wants to talk to the prisoners before they're processed."

"Okay." The first guard muttered something else under his breath, but guards and prisoners alike waited in the Arizona sun for Eldredge to appear. It was not long before Eldredge stepped out of the headquarters building and stood before the group. The blue alien sloshed out and stood beside Eldredge.

"Congratulations," said Eldredge. "You people are the first of many traitors who will be incarcerated at Prison Camp Kingman. I'm afraid I won't be here to entertain you personally, but I'm promoting Lt. Breen to captain and giving him charge of the prison. As for me, I'm going to Washington where I'll be the human head of state, in cooperation with our friend the slightly blue alien, who will be the Veezee head of state."

"Eldredge!" Ed called out. "How is it, the blue alien is going to be chief since he's common Veezee?"

Eldredge laughed. "As it turns out, Blue isn't common any more. You probably know all this, but the nobles had the oldest common captured so they could blackmail all the commons. Now it seems, the oldest common died so they can't hold that card any more, and now the commons have captured the oldest noble so everybody's switched! The ones that were common are noble now, and vice versa!"

"How are you getting to Washington since you're a prisoner here?" asked Ed.

"You're crazy! I'm not a prisoner! You are!" said Eldredge.

"You've got the bracelet, not me," said Ed.

"Yeah but that thing doesn't work. And we're going to get you a new one, right along with the new prisoners." Eldredge had forgotten about snapping the bracelet on in Ed's former quarters, but now he leaned over and started to unsnap it. It discharged a tremendous jolt of electricity into his ankle and hands. Eldredge fell over and writhed in pain on the ground. The two human guards who had been holding weapons on the prisoners rushed to assist their commander.

"Here," whispered Ed to Marilee. He slid the laser pistol out of his shirt and handed it to her. "You know how to handle this!" Ed took out the old revolver and started putting bullets in the cylinder.

Marilee pointed her weapon in the general direction of the guards and Eldredge. "Attention! You're under arrest!" she yelled. "Drop your weapons and kick them away!"

The two guards stared quizzically at Marilee, wondering where she got the laser pistol. One of them looked for a short moment as if he considered going for his weapon, but he wisely thought better of it. When both the guards' weapons had been kicked away, Richie Taylor picked them up and gave one to Mose Clark.

Eldredge was still on the ground, but beginning to recover. "You'll never get away with this, Halloran! Veezee are everywhere so you have no place to go!"

"I don't have to go anywhere," said Ed. "Blue's troops have got the other oldest Veezee caught and I've got a gun on old Blue, so now all the Veezees have to obey me. I rule the Veezees!"
Epilogue:

Without explanation for a wondering world, Veezee slew Veezee until there were only a few left. Then all the remaining aliens went back to their rocket fleets and boarded a few of the ships. After a few days, the ships launched into space and the aliens were gone. That is, all the aliens were gone except the blue eldest Veezee and six of his (its?) attendants who had been held hostage by Ed Halloran and the Earth Liberation Army. Then those last few aliens were blasted into space, presumably in a trajectory that would allow them to catch up with their population.

Prison Camp Kingman remained a prison, though it could only hold the worst of the collaborators. Eldredge stayed there about three years until he died while trying to remove the bracelet.

Fuel was drained from the remaining alien rockets but the rockets themselves were left standing in the desert as a memorial to those who had died and as a tribute to those who had endured. Then the population of planet Earth set about to repair the damage inflicted by the alien invasion, and that was accomplished to a large extent over the next few years. But the scar would remain on the human psyche for as long as civilizations endured.

One other note:

Ed Halloran and Arlene Sisk were married soon after the aliens left, but they still didn't get along well with each other. They yelled and argued for the next twelve years but loved every minute of it
