Invasion

weak…and neither one could mount a significant military challenge. It would be the shortest war on record…and shorter still if anyone else had been insane enough to try. It was a geopolitical reality; barring an all-out nuclear war, the United States could not be attacked significantly on its home ground…

But the aliens could change all that.

“They’re coming here?” He asked. “Where do you think they will invade?”

Paul looked up at the display. It hadn’t been easy to collate all the data, but it all pointed to one thing; the aliens had global ambitions. A handful of smaller countries had been spared, mainly powerless countries like Somalia or Zimbabwe, but almost everywhere else had been struck. Saudi Arabia, Iran, Australia, India, Pakistan, Europe…hell, Europe was much more compressed than the States. The damage had to have been more than just significant. The aliens had gone after everything that could have been a threat to them and plenty more that could never have been more than a minor problem.

“It’s impossible to tell,” he said. He’d studied the reports, but so far, there was no sign of where the aliens intended to land. They’d bombarded the United States heavily, but they’d done the same to Europe, Russia and China…and they could go after any of them. He’d seen scenarios from a direct landing in Washington DC to a landing on the other side of the world. What would the aliens use to guide them in choosing their landing sites? “If I was commanding their forces, I’d go here, but…”

He broke off. “There’s no way to know, Mr President,” he admitted. “All we can really do is watch them through the observatories and see what they decide to do.”

“But they can’t seriously think that they can take on the entire world,” Deborah Ivey said. “There’s six billion humans on this world and plenty of them are soldiers, or armed to the teeth and…”

“They’re not all concentrated in one place,” General Hastings said. “They’ve sunk too many of our ships. If they landed in Europe, we couldn’t get a force over to help them without getting them sunk on their way, getting them all killed for nothing. It’s a pretty effective form of divide and conquer and if they take out all of the industrial areas of the planet, they can take over the rest later, assuming that invasion and settlement are their motive.”

“But they could just destroy us,” Spender protested. “Why would they even bother to keep us alive?”

“Perhaps they want slaves,” Paul said. It didn’t seem very likely; in his view, a civilisation that could cross the stars wouldn’t need slaves, but it might be a status thing. There were plenty of rich men and women in America – and indeed the entire world – that got a kick out of having servants; some of them probably wished that they were back in the days when slavery was legal. “Or maybe they want to integrate with us, but on their terms, or…”

“And if that’s the case, they must have a plan to deal with the current government,” the President said slowly. “They haven’t attempted to talk to us at all?”

Paul shook his head. It was the point he found most ominous. The attacks on the planet showed a frightening lack of concern for civilian causalities; he had the nasty feeling that Washington had been spared only because it wasn't a military target, rather than any concern for the preservation of human life. Human rules of engagement might be very different to alien rules of engagement; for all he knew, any human with a weapon was a legitimate target. Humans had come up with a whole mixture of rules of war, some practical, some the work of dreamers…but the aliens might have a whole different attitude. They might regard genocide as a practical and moral solution to a problem, rather than a horrific crime to be avoided at all costs.

“No, Mr President,” he said. “If they can talk to us, they’re not interested in talking.”

“Maybe they’re talking to their prisoners,” Spencer said, hopefully. “Ambassador Prachthauser could tell them how to communicate with the government, couldn’t he?”

“If they’re interested,” Paul said. “They might be being sucked dry of everything they know about us.”

The President rubbed his eyes. “Major Neilson, tell me about the civilian population? How are they coping with the…war?”

Neilson, one of the military officers Paul didn’t know, leaned forward. “It’s really too early to tell, Mr President,” he said. “The vast majority of citizens stocked up on food, drink and emergency supplies during the week before the predicted arrival date and should be fine, those who remained in the cities. Hundreds of thousands set out of the cities and are scattered all over the countryside. Civilian morale is hard to measure at the moment, but people are scared; we’ve already had riots in a dozen cities and an upsurge in looting and other crimes. Those who are without electric power are actually taking it worst; there seems to be a belief that the entire country is coming to an end and they’re taking it out on everything. Some lit fires which started to get out of control. The lucky ones with power are coping better, but that might change…”

He paused. “You have to talk to them, sir,” he added. “The country hasn’t been shocked like this since Pearl Harbour. 9/11 was a pinprick compared to this and…well, there’s a lot of speculation out on the internet, some of it pretty accurate. If they get the idea we’re losing the war…”

General Hastings fixed him with a look. “That’s another issue, son,” he said, not unkindly. “What about the damaged bases and facilities?”

“The death toll near the bases and the other targeted facilities was pretty high,” Neilson said. “FEMA reports that the destroyed harbours and dams caused massive flash floods. The survivors are being helped as best as we can, but our resources are badly overstretched and we can’t help everyone.”

The President’s eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me that we’re going to abandon American citizens?”

Neilson looked terrified. “No, Mr President,” he said, “but I must caution you that we’re not going to be able to save everyone. We were never allowed to raise a stockpile of disaster recovery equipment in every state and the equipment we do have is often in the wrong place to be helpful. We daren’t launch aircraft, even helicopters, and some of the roads have been bashed up. The response from the locals has been very good, but they don’t have the right equipment, and in some cases they have even tried to refuse to allow us to use it.”

“Seize it,” Deborah suggested, angrily. “I cannot believe that anyone would be so selfish while the country is under attack. We need that gear, so take it off them and put it to use saving lives!”

“We have done,” Neilson admitted. “In a few days, we should know just how bad it is all over the United States, but at the moment, the best we can really do is accept the fact that local command has devolved down to the state level or lower and let them get on with it. Once we have a full and accurate report of the state of the nation, we can begin shuttling equipment around the country, although it will be years before we can recover from this.”

“It’s probably worse everywhere else,” General Hastings said dryly. “I took part in a study of the Russian infrastructure and if the aliens destroyed only a handful of vital points, they’re going to be completely fucked.”

The President gave him a reproving glance. “We might need the Russians,” he said. Paul knew that he was right. “What are the aliens going to do to take advantage of the chaos they’ve caused?”

Paul yawned and desperately tried to cover it. “I don’t know,” he said, tiredly. He really needed a few hours sleep and a shower. He probably wouldn’t get them anytime soon. “I think, however, that the choice about what happens next isn’t ours, but theirs. The aliens will decide the next move.”

Chapter Eleven

I distrust those people who know so well what God wants them to do because I notice it always coincides with their own desires.

– Susan B. Anthony

The massive hanger bay normally carried the spaceplanes that would be used to carry the believers down to the surface of their new world. Now, the craft had been moved back to the rear section of the Guiding Star, allowing the space to be used for the remains of the human space station and the handful of captured satellites. The space station had fallen easily, almost without a shot being fired, and enough of it had been captured to allow the researchers to study the remains. The other researchers would examine the human captives, but for Researcher Femala, there was nothing quite like examining the human technology. It promised to be the most interesting – and productive – line of investigation.

The space station, after a few cycles of study, had been…puzzling. It hadn’t been hard to locate and identify most of the components and there was nothing really new in its design, but some of the technology was more advanced than she had expected. A race that had a space program was a rarity, as far as they knew, but those that