A polite cough got his attention. The Seal commander was waiting for a response.
“I appreciate your comment, Commander. Unfortunately, I knew each of those ‘few’ personally and liked most of them. Under other circumstances, I might even have considered one of them a friend. So, you’ll have to excuse me if pleasure at the outcome isn’t front and center to me at the moment.”
The Seal commander nodded appreciatively. “I understand fully, sir. No making light of the losses intended. Still, I stand by what I said. If I may presume, exactly how did you do it?”
“We were lucky. One of our security people had an intuition something was going on. We sent out a patrol to check his suspicions and spotted them coming. Those suspicions and the twenty minutes’ warning they gave us were enough time to prepare and catch the Chinese off guard. They anticipated a lightly defended and totally unaware bunch of civilians and instead ran into an effective ambush by those civilians and more dangerous people than they expected.”
“Well, whatever it was, it was one for the books—although I suspect the ‘books’ will never see this one.”
“You can be sure of that, Commander. You can expect security debriefings and warnings to go on seemingly forever, emphasizing that none of this ever happened.”
The Seal nodded, turned, and left to check on his men. Sinclair gave Willie Larson a knowing look and, with his head, motioned Willie to accompany the Seal. Sinclair had assigned Willie to be the liaison between the Seal commander and the Site 23 personnel. He didn’t want to chance a Seal wandering into places for which he didn’t have clearance.
The two men left the main building. When they were thirty feet from the door, the Seal stopped and asked Willie softly, “Zach Marjek? He’s here? He’s the one who went out alone after the prisoners?”
Willie gave his affirmation grunt.
“Am I correct in assuming you worked with him before?”
Second grunt.
“How many more of you are here?”
Willie only stared.
After several seconds, the Seal commander shrugged. “Okay. I get it. The need-to-know business. But Marjek? I’ve heard stories. Is he what they say?”
Willie was inclined not to respond, but he reconsidered. The same words were on his lips that he had told Jefferson when asked whether Zach could retrieve the prisoners. But those words were not accurate.
“He is Death when he wants to be,” said Willie, but those words also weren’t quite correct, so he amended, “No . . . he is Death when he needs to be.”
The questioner gave a grunt of his own and asked no more questions.
Simeon Meets Sinclair
An early decision by General Hardesty, in consultation with Wilbur Huxler, was that the person in charge of Site 23 would refrain from having direct contact with the Object. However, it was time for Simeon to meet Sinclair. Word had come down from the president by way of Hardesty.
Sinclair sat in front of the equipment for the audio/monitor communication with Simeon. Mueller keyed in the series to alert Simeon that someone “wanted to talk.” As soon as the codes were entered, the monitor came on with Simeon’s head centered as usual.
“Hello, Simeon,” said Sinclair. “We have not talked before.”
“No,” responded Simeon, “but I believe you are Sinclair—the human of the highest ranking of those I have talked with before. Is that correct?”
“Yes, that is correct. How do you know my name?”
“Although we have not spoken directly, on several occasions the others inadvertently mentioned your name. Other times, they did not remember that they were talking among themselves and said the name of someone I had not met, usually giving the impression it was someone from whom they needed permission. I thus infer you are considered a higher authority whom they must go to for such permissions.”
“That is correct, Simeon. My full name is Leo Sinclair, and I am officially responsible for the operations of this group of people and the facility.”
“And what is your specialty?”
“I am part of the military service of our country. My rank is major general.”
“Major general? That means a two-star symbol of your rank. If you are with the military, am I to assume the military sector of your society is in charge of our interactions?”
“In this case, the people here are both military and civilians. I am in charge here, but the operations eventually report to our highest civilian authority, who has ultimate decision-making power. In our country, the military is separate from and controlled by the government.”
“How do you prefer to be called? Leo, Sinclair, General?”
“Would ‘General Sinclair’ be acceptable?”
“If that is what you wish,” said Simeon. “We have not spoken before. Why is that, and why change today?”
“It was a decision that the coordinator of this facility not have direct contact because we are uncertain exactly what you are. As for why today . . . yes, something has changed. As you know from the information sources you have been given access to in the last month, our world is divided into many different governing systems. I am from the United States, and where we are now physically is part of another governmental entity called Canada. The United States and Canada are close friends. However, there are other governmental entities with whom neither the United States nor Canada is friendly. Not normally to the degree of physical conflict, but more through disagreements about how countries interact with one another and what, if any, obligations one specific country has to all the other countries.”
When Sinclair paused, Simeon stepped into the break. “Of course, I am aware of human divisions into many countries, but you used the word normally when referring to possible physical conflict. Has something ‘abnormal’ occurred? There were no sessions for two days, and then during the first new session, Dr. Mueller seemed to have trouble focusing.”
Sinclair winced to himself. Although he had read all the reports about Simeon and had watched many recordings of conversations and virtual reality sessions, this was his first personal experience with how Simeon could take clues and extrapolate.
“Yes, another country has physically attacked this site with a military force. We assume they somehow learned of your presence or at least that something was occurring here that could be a threat to them. They tried to either capture you or find out exactly what is happening here.”
“I infer this happened four or five days ago. I have noticed that our sessions have been shorter than average, with fewer individuals participating, and they seem distracted and less focused during our conversations than before. We also have not had a virtual reality session for those days. Can I assume the attack was not successful because no one has tried to move me? Has this structure be damaged?”
“Actually, we had some minor damage to this building’s exterior and more severe damage to some nearby structures, but you are correct. The attack was not successful,” said Sinclair.
“You’ll have to excuse me,” said Simeon, “if I am not particularly concerned about conflicts between your governments, but I am concerned about the humans I have been interacting with.”
“Several humans at this facility were killed in the attack and others injured to different degrees. However, nothing in the attack will affect our ability to interact with you as I am now or through the virtual reality,” Sinclair assured him.
Simeon pressed his previous implied question. “Have humans I know been killed?”
This was a point where they were unsure what Simeon’s response would be.
Well, here goes, thought Sinclair.
“Two people you know were killed. Charles Adams and Rachel Munoz.”
Simeon’s face showed no reaction when he said, “That is regrettable. Charles and I had interesting conversations about your level of knowledge of physics. Similarly, I found Rachel’s knowledge of human languages stimulating. Will another physicist and linguist be taking their places?”
<
br /> The quickness of the questions surprised Sinclair. The staff didn’t know how Simeon viewed relationships with the people he interacted with, but this seemed quite cold—as if the losses of Adams and Munoz were simply pieces of equipment whose replacement needed scheduling. But that was a topic for another session and for someone like Huxler to follow up. They had more pressing issues.
“Although the attack failed in all of its objectives,” said Sinclair, “it will result in changes in how we operate and how long we can keep your existence secret.”
“And you are sure the attackers did not succeed in any of their objectives? Even by failing to discover exactly what is happening here, the failure may lead to them finding out more anyway if the secrecy cannot be maintained.”
Sinclair was taken aback, but Simeon was right. By launching the attack, China might end up forcing the United States to reveal the Object far sooner than intended—in which case the attack could be considered a success from a strictly Machiavellian view.
As long as you don’t care about casualties or immediate political consequences, Sinclair thought. Which may fit the worldview of the Chinese leadership quite well.
“This is a possibility,” said Sinclair, “but it still will likely result in our having to reveal your existence in the near future—we think within the next six months.”
“That is also regrettable,” said Simeon. “We have discussed the need to be cautious about such information becoming known too soon and the possible effects on your cultures.”
“Our leadership is considering ways to help make the news of your existence less disruptive. One possibility I have been asked to discuss with you is whether you could help us with knowledge our populations would see as beneficial. The intent would be for fewer people to see you as a threat and more as something to improve their lives.”
Simeon shook his head. “General Sinclair, as you must recall, we have discussed the dangers of premature transfer of technology to humans.”
“Yes, I’m aware of your previous responses. However, it is illogical to have restrictions with no exceptions. There are always scenarios that require modification of any set of rules if an ultimate goal is to be achieved. There must be some pieces of knowledge with less probability of incurring negative consequences. It then becomes a balance between achieving a major goal and accepting necessary levels of risk.”
“I agree the situation has changed,” said Simeon. “Under these circumstances, I will consider your request, General Sinclair. Today’s session will now terminate.”
Without waiting for a response, Simeon’s head disappeared from the monitor.
“Well, that was abrupt,” said Mueller, “but at least he didn’t turn us down right away.”
“I think it’s better than that,” said Huxler. “Usually, when we’re going to get a negative response, it happens immediately.”
Chunhua wasn’t as optimistic. “I come down solidly on having no idea what it means that he didn’t answer immediately. We don’t know anything about the mechanism or pathways involved in his decisions.”
Sinclair noticed that Simeon hadn’t given any indication of how long such consideration might take. Given the Object’s capabilities, Sinclair would have thought a decision could come almost instantaneously, but who knew how the Object functioned or why it might choose to delay “giving a decision”?
Exactly twenty-four hours later, Mueller came into Sinclair’s office with the news that Simeon wanted to discuss possible areas of knowledge transfer.
“We don’t have a lot of time for this,” said Sinclair. “It’s been passed on to me to have at least an outline of what might possibly be ready for the president in a few days. That means only a few people will work on this report. Doctor Mueller, you’ll represent the science viewpoint. You can talk to the other Level 3 people. Huxler will provide a broader societal view, and I think of Zach Marjek as being grounded in the ‘real world’ and not as subject to wishful thinking as the more academically inclined. The three of you start working with Simeon right away and meet with me again at . . . ,” Sinclair looked at his watch, “. . . shall we say 1600 hours tomorrow?”
Mueller sighed. “We’ll get to it, but I have to be honest and tell you not to expect much. You know how cagey he’s been before. There would have to be a fundamental change.”
“Do the best you can.”
The four men gathered the next day around the small round table in Sinclair’s office.
“Okay,” said Sinclair as soon as they were seated, “what do you have for me? What are some goodies Simeon is willing to share—things to buy us points with the politicians and eventually goodwill with the general populace when they finally find out what’s been going on here?” Sinclair looked expectantly at the three men.
“Well,” said Howard Mueller slowly, as if a little hesitant to deliver a report he anticipated would not be the one hoped for, “we spent a number of hours talking with Simeon. As usual, he would stop talking and sign off for reasons he never explains. He usually comes back if we signal again for his attention—but not always. Nevertheless, our discussions probably totaled seven or eight hours since yesterday. The bottom line is Simeon is going to be helpful, though perhaps not as much as we might have wanted.”
Sinclair frowned. “What does that mean? Like, not sharing technology at all?”
“No, no, I’m sorry—that sounded too pessimistic. Honestly, I should say there has been a major breakthrough. However, the topics and scope of what he is willing to give us definitely have limits. Evidently, anything biological is out. You would think that with their level of technology, there would be basic similarities we could work with, even if we and the Object’s creators are different species. But every time we broached the topics, he quit answering, changed the subject, or in a few cases said those would be topics for some unspecified later time.”
Wilbur Huxler chimed in. “To be clear, we assume there must be basic similarities in the biology, physiology, and biochemistry of different living organisms. With regard to the aliens, we’ve been assuming there must be common features even if we have to consider them as falling outside Earth’s kingdoms.”
“Kingdoms,” said Sinclair. “You mean animals and plants?”
“Actually, there are several more kingdoms currently recognized for Earth organisms,” said Huxler. “At one time, we considered there to be three kingdoms—animals, plants, and bacteria. But work over the last decades, particularly with the DNA sequencing of more genomes, means we now recognize more kingdoms. Depending on what criteria are used, the number can range up to eight. However, the most common groupings are animals, plants, fungi, bacteria, and the archaea, another monocellular group.
“When we consider the alien race that built the Object, assuming it was a single race and not some kind of cooperative effort by many races, then remember they evolved completely separate from Earth’s life. So, this effectively means we need to consider a new level of organism classification—one based on their origin, probably a planet elsewhere in our galaxy. We don’t have a term for this, but let’s call it a ‘realm.’ We assume all life in each realm evolved from a common beginning on different planets, a beginning that may or may not have followed similar paths as on Earth.
“So . . . back to the original question of whether the knowledge from the biology from the realm of the Object originators could be of any help for questions within Earth’s realm. We just don’t know. I believe many of the basic metabolic solutions that evolved would be similar, even if the details are quite different. The unknown is whether the differences are so great as to make the utility of transferred knowledge of limited or even no use. I think the knowledge would be useful, but so far, we get nowhere with Simeon in finding out anything about the makeup of the originators. When combined with no meaningful feedback when we try to discuss knowledge to help with human medical issues, we get nowhere.”
Sinclair turned to Zach. “What do you make of this?”
Zach hesitated, pursed his lips for a moment, then answered, “I get the sense it’s more than simply that our two basic physiologies are so different that Simeon has no useful knowledge. I sense there is something else going on. I think he doesn’t want to share such knowledge or is prevented from sharing it.”
Sinclair next motioned to Huxler and Mueller. “Do either of you get the same vibes?”
Huxler shook his head. “I don’t get the same feeling, but I don’t see any way of knowing one way or the other.”
Huxler looked unhappy and shook his head. “Part of me wants to say Zach is reading into Simeon some of his own suspicions. Unfortunately, I’m also getting a sense of more going on under the surface than we understand. Clearly, after all this time, we still don’t have a good picture of the Object’s motivations. What is its purpose? Why was it sent out by its originators in the first place?”
“Okay, so nothing biological. How about nonbiological?”
“In that regard, we’re on better ground,” said Mueller. “Not as solid as I would like, but at least we’ll have something to work with. Simeon has already shared enough basic mathematics and astrophysics to keep a generation of mathematicians and physicists hopping.”
Sinclair harrumphed, irritated. “Yes, but however great the advance is in some abstract area of mathematics, what does it do for us now? Not one person in a hundred thousand would understand what he’s already given us . . . at least from what I gather in reading the reports. And yes, you all keep telling me things will come out of it, but we need items the average citizen can identify with.”
“Well, “said Mueller, “so far we have come up with six items. To summarize, better telescopes, better computers, better data storage, better extraction methods for a wide range of ores, better batteries, and better light bulbs.”
“Light bulbs?” Sinclair asked quizzically. “That sounds like an outlier.”
Harbinger (The Janus Harbinger Book 1) Page 62
