Invasion

ISS, of meeting representatives from the great powers on Earth. It has been designed that a group of Ambassadors will be placed onboard the station and, hopefully, that they will meet with the aliens.”

He paused. “Would you like to be the American representative onboard the station?”

Francis laughed. “Do you even have to ask?”

“No,” the President said. They shared a long smile. “I won’t lie to you, Francis; I could be sending you to your death. We don’t know what the aliens actually want and, if they’re hostile, the ISS is pretty much a sitting duck. Still want to go?”

Francis frowned. “The aliens have not responded to any of our messages?”

The President shook his head. Ever since the alien starship had become public knowledge, there had been attempts to signal the craft, a torrent of radio signals pouring out from Earth, some not even pointed in the right direction. No one could agree on what to say to them, however, and the aliens, if they were listening, had to be very confused. There had been sober and mature transmissions, invitations to land at one location or another…and hundreds of messages offering everything from marriage to abduction victims. The aliens had to be really confused…but there had been no reply to any of the messages.

“Not as far as we know,” the President said. “The most sensitive communications gear we have, items so classified that I’m barely allowed to know more than their existence, has been deployed to cover the alien craft…but if they’re transmitting, they’re doing it without us being able to pick it up. Some of my advisors are worried that they’re actually in communications with the Russians, or the Chinese, but if they are, they’re doing it without us hearing anything.”

“Occam’s Razor,” Francis said. “The simplest explanation is normally the correct one – and it’s that they’re not transmitting anything to Earth. If we can’t detect any transmissions, the Russians are unlikely to be able to detect them themselves.”

“I know,” the President said, wishing that he could somehow convoy the gut-wrenching feeling that the lack of communications was causing. A hundred kilometres of alien starship was racing towards Earth…and no one knew what they wanted. Colonel James had been right, he decided; there was something ominous in the lack of communication, let alone their attempt to limit Earth’s warning time. The decision to start dispersing the federal government had been easy once he’d realised just how ominous it was. “Still want to go?”

“Yes, Mr President,” Francis said. “Someone has to be up there to meet them, so…why not me?”

“Why not indeed,” the President said. He smiled thinly and took his seat again. “You’re going to be up there with four other representatives; a Russian, a Chinese, a European and a UN representative. The UN expects their representative to take the lead, but the great powers have agreed that it will be them in the lead, not least because we paid for the ISS and the space program. The European has instructions from the European Union, but he may have orders from his own government as well…”

Francis rolled his eyes. That always seemed to happen. For everyone devoted to the international organisation that they worked for, in theory, there were ten who were actually following the orders of their own countries, regardless of how well – or badly – they interacted with the remainder of the world. The only country that seemed to actually respect the concept of international organisations was the Swiss, and they’d been safe for hundreds of years.

“Your instructions are simple enough,” the President added. “Ideally, we want an exclusive agreement with the aliens, but that’s not likely to happen. More practically, we want to ensure that we have a share in whatever dealings happen with the aliens and that we don’t get frozen out, or that the Europeans don’t get frozen out. We can rely on them to support us against Russia or China, but the UN representative is a wild card. She might have ambitions of placing the entire issue before the UN.”

Francis frowned. “Should we not be working towards a united front?”

“It depends on what the aliens have in mind for us,” the President admitted. “We have a series of agreements with the other great powers that if the aliens are hostile, we will fight them together, but if they’re not hostile, they could play divide and rule very easily. The orders I gave you…well, the other Ambassadors are likely to be following similar orders, and the crew of the ISS…well, they’ll have similar orders themselves. They might be more pro- American than their fellow countrymen, those who aren’t American, but…”

“The stakes are high,” Francis agreed.

“Too high,” the President said. “The entire country seems to have gone crazy, but hopefully it will have calmed down by the time the aliens enter orbit and actually make contact.”

“Let’s hope so,” Francis said, pessimistically. “What about our defences?”

“I can’t really discuss those with you,” the President said. “No offence, but if the aliens capture you…”

Francis nodded. “I understand,” he said. He smiled, a little nervously. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

“Ambassador, perhaps, to the Galactic Empire,” the President said. “Thank me when you come back alive, Francis; I suspect that I haven’t done you any favours at all.”

***

The daily briefing to the President was a chore that Paul disliked, not because the President was an unpleasant person, but because it took him away from continuing his work. There was little choice, however, and he had to admit that it was better that he briefed the President, rather than some REMF who wouldn’t know what was important and what wasn't. The thought was quietly ironic; he’d been in the American armed forces for sixteen years and he’d never fired a shot in anger. He’d never been deployed to Iraq or Afghanistan, or any of the other places where American troops had been deployed.

“NASA confirms that the space shuttle Discovery is currently going through its final flight checks before launch,” he said, once he’d updated the President on the ground-based preparations. “They’re stripped out the planned launch schedule – they intended to launch a trio of new communications satellites – and replaced it with a module for supporting additional crewmembers, so the Ambassadors won’t be too much of a burden on the ISS.”

“Good,” the President said. The ISS normally had only six crewmembers and adding five representatives – and the shuttle crew – would have pushed life support to the limit. “And the defensive capability?”

“It’s been added, after a long argument,” Paul admitted. NASA had been almost universally opposed to the idea of arming Discovery; the basically civilian organisation hadn’t wanted to accept the idea that the aliens might be hostile. It wasn’t as if the shuttle could be turned into a real space warship, but at least it would have some teeth. “Captain Markus Kane has been practicing using the weapons on the simulator, but…”

He shrugged. “We ran simulations for intercepting Chinese and Russian satellites, not alien ships,” he said. “It could be that Discovery will last more than a few seconds, but I doubt it.”

The President frowned. “We’d better hope that it doesn’t come down to a fight, then,” he said. “Have the Chinese responded to our proposal?”

“No,” Paul said. “The Chinese ASAT capability is remaining firmly in their hands. The Russians have expressed some limited interest in sharing data for launching the Gorgon and Gazelle missile systems, but the system is outdated and the number of operational missiles is…not large. We have heard a rumour that they’re actually refitting the nuclear warheads onto the missiles, but so far we have no independent confirmation of that fact.”

The President smiled. “Doesn’t that violate a treaty?”

“We might be happy that they had them,” Paul warned. He’d proposed arming American missiles with nuclear warheads, but that suggestion had never made it onto the operational level. The proposal alone was hugely controversial. “That said, they never composed a serious ABM shield for technical reasons, although one of the more persistent worries of the past decade was that they would solve their problems and deploy a working nuclear shield. If they had succeeded in accomplishing such a feat…”

He shrugged. “But it didn’t happen, so not to worry,” he said, and changed the subject slightly. “They’ve also been altering their old ICBMs for launching them straight upwards into alien ships, if it does come down to a fight.”

“Ouch,” the President said. He scowled down at the table. “How much damage are they likely to cause to the aliens?”

“That’s the question,” Paul admitted. “The Russians have been revamping their nuclear missiles over the past decade, but the Soviets let their missile designs atrophy slightly during the years after the Fall of the Berlin Wall. We don’t have exact data, but its quite possible that not all of the missiles will fly when they hit the launch button.