For hours, he paced around his home. The displays followed him from room to room, showing the alien ship hovering over that pointless border. Then an article caught his attention from a little-known news blogger. In the article it said that the position the aliens had taken was the perfect place to monitor the entire continent of South America, all at once, using minimal resources. The writer of the article stated that if he needed to monitor South America, that was exactly where he would put up shop. Blackshade found the article interesting, because it was the only one he had read that made any kind of sense. The only thing he couldn’t figure out was why they would want to monitor the continent. Unfortunately, other than pointing out that the geographical location was an optimal voyeur point, the author offered no insight as to why the Omegas had a sudden interest in South America.
Blackshade didn’t notice right away when the voyeur drones began posting a temperature reading on the display. It was known that no human technology had been able to detect anything about the alien spacecraft. So far, the only way technology had been useful against the Omegas’ ships was through visual means. So when a temperature readout suddenly appeared on the side of the display, he paid it no attention. Live broadcasters missed it as well, as did most of the people watching the feeds. It wasn’t until some of the more astute viewers began leaving comments on the bloggers’ feeds that Blackshade took any notice of the new information. When he finally did, he saw that the readout showed there was now a ten-mile-long, by two-mile-wide section of the sky that was registering over four hundred degrees Fahrenheit, and climbing. Articles were released almost immediately, claiming this was a sign that the Omegas were about to attack South America. Blackshade had to admit that was his first thought too, but it made no sense. Why would they take all the time to negotiate with the President if they intended to attack? Why start with South America? Attacking Candaerica, or China, or finishing off Russia was more tactically sound than beginning with one of the most technologically repressed continents in the world. Why mask their intentions at all, since it was obvious that nothing on Earth could stop the aliens, if Russia’s failed attack was any indication. Not knowing was driving him insane. His instincts were telling him this wasn’t an attack, no matter how much it looked like one, but what he felt, and what he was seeing, did not coalesce. Something deep down inside of him told him he was missing a big piece of the puzzle, and that was why he felt so confused… but instead of helping calm him down, it just frustrated him more. Tapping a floor sensor with his foot, he sat in the chair that came up, and then he did the only thing he could do. He waited to see what would happen.
Almost an hour after the drones began reporting the temperature shift of the ship, which had stayed at a balmy four hundred and thirty-seven degrees Fahrenheit, a jade green light began to emit from the bottom of the spacecraft. The light grew in intensity, until the entire bottom side of the alien ship radiated with it. Then, just as it seemed like the light couldn’t get any more intense, there was a flash, and it was gone. It took a few moments for the drones to adjust their settings to compensate for the incredibly bright light. When they finally recovered, they showed the alien ship in exactly the same place it had been before. Only now it no longer had the jade green glow underneath it, and the temperature readout was no longer being displayed.
News blogger articles flooded the internet with speculation about what had happened. Every conspiracy theorist with a keyboard began speculating about what the flash was, what it meant, and why it had happened. Theories ranged from it being nothing more than the aliens taking a picture, to a failed attempt on the aliens’ part to kill us all with a super weapon. This theory actually began to trend, which eventually led to some of the more imaginative bloggers claiming to know the hackers that had been able to stop the alien attack. As stupid as the theory was, Blackshade did enjoy reading a few of their claims. For the next couple of hours, he scoured the internet looking for any information he could find that claimed to know anything about what had happened. It was during those searches that he began to see articles mentioning a surge of strange occurrences. Mostly, these occurrences consisted of random people showing up in places they shouldn’t be. One of the first articles he read was about a military base in Australia rushing medical units to over a thousand people that were found unconscious on one of their drill pads. All of the people discovered were comatose with evidence that some had vomited before losing consciousness. Other articles made similar claims. There were approximately thirty people found unconscious in France inside a police impoundment facility. How those people, dressed in primitive tribal garb, had gotten into their heavily secured facility on the fifteenth floor of the facility, baffled them. Another article claimed that the bodies of around three thousand men, women, and children were being gathered up from an Alaskan fishing village. All of the people had unfortunately died from exposure due to the extreme cold of the region, but how they got to that remote area in nothing but t-shirts and shorts was anyone’s guess.
Slowly, the dots began to connect in Blackshade’s head. Around the same time, others began coming to the same conclusion as he was. The Omegas had transported the entire human population of South America to different parts of the planet, seemingly at random. Why they had done this, no one knew. Why move the entire population of South America off the continent? And why so randomly? Hundreds of articles were on the blogs now, reporting unconscious people being found everywhere from school yards, to neighborhood parks, to private citizens’ backyards. In every instance, the people found were unconscious, with some showing signs of vomiting before they lost consciousness. To help with the amount of requests for medical attention, med-drones were being deployed by the military to assist in reviving those that were found inside Candaerica. It was chaos, and Blackshade felt like he should be doing something. He tried to contact Zahera, but she didn’t answer his call. He wasn’t surprised; she was probably so busy with the current crisis; she didn’t even notice her arm was vibrating.
Someone pounding on his front door startled him. “Rufus, who is that?” he asked, looking around for his front door display. It was covered in dozens of other opened displays, and it took him a minute to find it.
“It appears to be a Secret Service Agent. Credentials confirmed, Sir. Shall I let him in?” Rufus replied.
Blackshade looked at the display and saw the man looked like what Rufus proclaimed him to be. A copy of his credentials, with the word “CONFRIMED” were also on the display.
“Yes, Rufus, let him in please.” Blackshade replied, as he stood up from his chair. He was still stretching when the man came hurriedly into his living room. His eyes were immediately drawn to the Agent’s forehead, where he saw the word, “URGENT” emblazoned across it.
“Ambassador Blackshade, you’ve been recalled by the Presidents. You need to come with me, Sir. Now.” the man said directly.
Blackshade was shaken by this. He wasn’t sure if this was normal or not, but judging by the insistence in the Agent’s voice, he didn’t think so. “Sure, allow me to change into something more suitable.” Blackshade told him. He realized he was still in his workout clothes that were covered in his dried sweat.
The agent shook his head. “There is no time for that, Sir. You have to come with me now!” the man said, moving to grab him. Blackshade knocked his hand away. He was no stranger to violence, he had taken part in much of it during his time as a military commander that regularly provided backup for the police. The Agent however, was an artist at violence. As Blackshade knocked his hand away the Agent rolled with the momentum, grabbed the hand that had attempted to swat him away, and bent it back painfully behind him. In the space of a second the Agent had complete control of him. Blackshade was equal parts impressed and outraged.
“LET ME GO! NOW!” he said in impotently.
The Agent had the decency to sound apologetic, “I’m sorry, Mr. Ambassador. I’m just following orders. You have to come with me right now. Clothes and ref
resher bots will be available to you enroute. Please don’t resist, Sir. I am authorized to use coma-tabs if required.”
Blackshade was beaten, and he knew it. He relaxed as much as he could with his arm wrenched behind his back. “Ok, Agent. I’ll go with you.”
The Agent didn’t let him go. He walked him to the front door and didn’t release his grip until they had boarded the transport and were surrounded by three more Agents. While Blackshade wasn’t pleased with being handled this way, he grudgingly admitted it was the correct course of action for the Agent to take. Hell, he would have chastised any of his soldiers that took a violent subject at their word after they had lashed out at them. Still, he didn’t think he would ever be able to like the Agent. Once his arm was his again, Blackshade flexed it to get some feeling back into it. Then he took the only open seat left on the transport and strapped himself in.
He looked at the other agents around him. The Agent that had escorted him to the transport sat directly in front of him. The readout on his head simply stated, “Ambassador Secured” which gave Blackshade the feeling the man was calming down. He was a young man, probably no older than twenty-six or twenty-seven. He was Caucasian, with short blond hair and a stubbly blond beard. The Agent that sat to his right was a bronze giant! He was easily six foot seven with short cropped brown hair and a massive beard. It was trimmed and maintained according to regulations, but it was an impressive mass none the less. Blackshade didn’t need his to read his forehead display to know the man was completely disinterested in him and why they were here.
A stocky Hispanic woman sat to his left and was watching him suspiciously. When he looked back at her the woman did not look away. She seemed to be challenging him with her eyes. Her readout matched the expression on her face, “ALIEN SELLOUT”. He had no idea why she thought he had sold out to the Omegas, but having already gotten his pride handed to him once this evening, he didn’t feel like pressing her on the subject. The last agent was another male, African-Candaerican, and built like he ran a gym on the side. Other than his eye brows the man was completely hairless and had the persona of a man that was more concerned with sculpting his body than anything else. Blackshade noticed the man looking at him like he was a rabid dog, foaming at the mouth. In small writing, racing across the lower part of his forehead the words, “What a slob” flashed. The Agent’s disgust was plain, and Blackshade couldn’t blame him. Garbed in his current sweat stained clothes and the scent he must be giving off, he could totally understand the man’s disdain. As the transport’s doors closed, and they lifted off, Blackshade said the only thing he could think to say to the Agent that sat in front of him.
“You said that a change of clothes and some refresher bots would be provided for me along the way. How about you make good on that promise?”
Chapter 8
Blackshade was brought back to The Unification Foundation in record time. Judging by the G-forces he experienced along the way, he guessed the pilots of the transport had the machine at full throttle the entire time. During the trip, he had been provided with a very nice suit that fit him well, thanks to the automated tailoring feature built into the fabric. The suit was made of synthetic fibers that were both comfortable on the skin, yet durable enough to feel confident in. Included in the package with the suit was a patriotic red, white, and black tie, as well as a pair of Candaerican flag cuff-links. The refresher bots were standard military issue and left him feeling slightly sticky after they were done cleansing him, but the minor discomfort was much better than the crusty feeling he had in his soiled work out uniform. The African-Candaerican Secret Service Agent he shared the transport with seemed to approve greatly once Blackshade was clean and properly dressed. His forehead display changed to “Cleans up nice” shortly after he finished changing. The giant Agent had dozed off shortly after take-off, and the Agent that had escorted him to the transport was now eating a sandwich in his seat. Only the female agent still watched him angrily from where she sat, the words “Traitorous Bastard” stenciled brightly on her forehead.
When they landed, Blackshade allowed the Agents to hustle him off of the transport and into the Foundation. It was very late, but the building was still surrounded by both military and police guards. The port-a-cades were still up, but the mob of citizens was gone. Once inside, he was rushed to a transference cube and taken to a much more modest meeting area than the Congressional Conference Room he had been brought to before. Both President Silvia and President Novatrix were present and surrounded by their cabinet and military advisors. Displays of South America, unconscious people, and reports from all over the world covered every square inch of the room, with many of the displays overlapping each other. No one seemed to be frantic or panicking, but there was a palpable sense of distress in the room. Blackshade knew now why he had been brought here, and he wasn’t sure how useful he was going to be. President Silvia noticed him first.
“Good!” President Silvia said a little too hungrily for Blackshade’s taste, “Now we can get some answers!” He pointed at Blackshade, which caused everyone in the room to stop what they were doing and look at him, “What in God’s name are your aliens doing in South America?” he demanded.
Blackshade was at a total loss, “I… uh…. I have no idea, Mr. President. They didn’t tell me anything about their plans.” he said honestly.
The readout on the President’s forehead flashed the words, ‘He is telling the truth… How can that be’ but what he said was, “Bullshit, Blackshade! They trust you! They made Elizabeth appoint you as their Ambassador, and you’re going to stand there and tell me you don’t know anything!?”
Blackshade felt his temper begin to rise. He didn’t need the President’s readout to tell him the man was trying to lay all the blame on him for the Omegas actions. He fought to control himself. “Yes, Sir. That is exactly what I’m telling you.” Blackshade said as calmly as he could manage, “After we were dismissed by President Novatrix, Lord Tremendous told me I couldn’t be with them when they built their base, and that they would contact me when I could rejoin them. Nothing else. I have no idea why they’re over South America or why they teleported those people around the planet.” he answered.
President Silvia’s readout practically screamed, ‘AH HA’ as he responded, “If you don’t know what they’re up to, then how did you know they teleported the entire human population of South America off the continent?” he yelled at him, hysteria dangerous in his voice, “How did you know that, Mr. Ambassador!?”
Blackshade let his temper slip a little, he was beginning to really dislike this man, “I know this because it’s all over the internet, Sir. What do you think I’ve been doing since I got home? I’ve been reading the news blogs, hoping to figure out what the Omegas are up to. Just like the rest of the world, I would imagine! To be honest, I was curious to see where they were going to build their base.” he answered, agitated. “And to be clear, I didn’t know the Omegas had removed all of the people from South America, just a lot of them. Thanks for the clarification.”
The President’s readout displayed, “How is he still telling the truth” before he responded with, “So you knew nothing of their plans then, Blackshade? Nothing about their business in South America or why they’ve removed the people from the continent?”
Blackshade knew what was happening. He was being tested. Digital polygraphs were something he had heard about during his time in the military, but he didn’t know that they were a reality. The President was testing him and could tell if he was speaking the truth or not. Blackshade hadn’t been lying so far and saw no reason to start, “Nothing at all, Sir. I’ve got a few theories, but nothing concrete to back it up with, just as most of the people in here do, I’m sure.” he said confidently.
The President’s readout read, “Damn” before he said, “Ok, Blackshade, I believe you. I’d love to hear your theory on the situation.” the President replied, as he motioned toward a chair near the head of the table. The Senior General that
was sitting in it immediately stood up and offered it to him. Blackshade supposed this attitude from a General should surprise him, but he was so overwhelmed by the events of the week that this barely registered as he sat in the proffered chair. He did notice that it was a very plush and comfortable chair as he arranged himself in the seat.
President Novatrix sat down next to him, “Ambassador Blackshade, as you know the Omegas have transported the people of South America off of the continent and spread them out all over the world. At first, we thought it was done at random, but after a more careful analysis we believe there was some intelligent design to the locations the people of South America have been found in.” she explained to him seriously, “The quantity of people found are either all from the same tribe, town, or village as far as we can tell. They are also teleported to regions that can support their numbers with no significant impact to the region’s population or resources. The only problem with this is that some of the places the South American people are being teleported to aren’t friendly. We have reason to believe that those who were teleported to parts of Africa, and the Middle East are being summarily killed… or worse. We also have reason to believe that those that were found in China have been detained, or in some circumstances killed by the local populace. Those that have been recovered in Russia have been treated well as far as we know, but with the climate in that country, those that aren’t found soon will die from exposure.” she explained. With a few taps on her input control, she brought up dozens of pictures containing dead people. Blackshade assumed they were some of the displaced South Americans.
Original Design Page 20
