President Silvia went pale at the mention of his disassembly. President Novatrix still looked very angry, but nodded at Soearth in reply. She sat deep in her Presidential chair with her arms and legs crossed in front of her, glaring at the display. Blackshade knew that if she could glare holes into the alien ship, it would look like Swiss cheese right now.
“How are the recovery efforts coming along?” Blackshade asked to no one in particular. Relief efforts had been set into motion before he and Soearth had spent the last hour convincing the Presidents of their theory.
President Silvia, still pale, answered, “The recovery efforts in Candaerica are going very well. We have recovered over six million displaced South Americans so far and put them up in government shelters. Linguists have been brought in to explain the situation to the displaced, but as you can imagine, they aren’t taking the news well. Many of them are calling on Candaerica to attack the aliens. Others are demanding to be returned to their homes, wanting to reclaim family heirlooms, pictures, treasures, wealth, and exactly what you would expect those unfortunate people to want. Those we’ve rescued have nothing more than what they had in their pockets and the clothes on their backs. We have teams of people trying to figure out how to reinstate their property and status to them. Those with international bank accounts are easy enough, but they are few and far between. Luckily, our citizens have been very compassionate. Many hotels are opening their doors and letting those displaced stay for free, and by free I mean they’ve accepted our deal to allow them to use their loss of income as a tax write off. Feeding the people is no problem, as I’m sure you know, but making them accept their current situation, especially those with political power, is not going to be easy.” he explained.
“What about those that ended up outside of Candaerica?” Blackshade asked.
President Silvia sighed, “China is rounding them up while they’re unconscious and putting them in detainment centers. Russia, what’s left of Russia, seems to be treating those they rescue as well as we are, but they’re still reeling from the annihilation of Moscow and the subsequent earthquakes. Most of Russia is burning right now, according to the reports we’ve received from our sources there, but the Russian citizens are doing their best. The South Americans that ended up in Russia aren’t the worst off though. The reports we’re receiving from Africa are barbaric. Those that ended up in Africa have been killed for the clothes on their backs, robbed, beaten and left for dead, raped while still unconscious, taken as slaves. It’s the worst kind of savagery. We have our military commanders considering our offensive options, but we aren’t sure how the Omegas would respond to us attacking Africa without direct provocation.” The President seemed almost ashamed to say that, “We don’t want to appear aggressive to the Omegas, out of fear they’ll think less of us. So currently, until a military option becomes viable, we have our best African Ambassadors and negotiators trying to contact their leaders. We hope to encourage them to step in and protect the South Americans that are being found there.”
Blackshade’s optimism for the people in Africa withered when he saw the words on Silvia’s forehead, ‘Those poor people have no hope’. He wished they could send the military into Africa to protect the South Americans, but he understood the need for restraint due to the perceptions of the Omegas. What if the Omegas decided to step in and stop their actions? What if the Omegas misunderstood a buildup of military assets as a precursor to an attack against them? It was too much of a risk.
“What is the current death toll?” Blackshade asked. He knew someone had to address the massive elephant in the room; why not him?
President Novatrix answered him, “There were around one billion souls in South America before the Omegas removed them.” she said darkly, “The current death toll numbers we have are around thirty-eight million people. Our drones have found millions of bodies in Antarctica, the deserts, isolated hazardous locations, and of course, there have been those that were killed by the more savage people of the world. We’re sending out transports to rescue those that we find, but sometimes by the time we find them it’s too late, or we just can’t get to them in time.”
“The Omegas said that no one would be killed… they promised me…” she said in a whisper.
No one spoke for a while; no one could think of anything to say. Blackshade was surprised when it was Soearth that broke the silence, “Not to sound cruel, Madam President, but again, I don’t believe the Omegas lied to you.” he said patiently. “Or at least, not in the way you think they did.” Novatrix looked up at him but said nothing. Blackshade thought she looked desperate to hear what Soearth had to say.
Soearth took the pleading look on her face as his signal to continue, “The Omegas kept their word by transporting the humans off of South America and redistributing the populace across the planet. They did not directly kill or harm anyone themselves. I believe their lack of understanding of humans is what is causing so many deaths. Like I’ve said before, I do not believe they realize that humanity is broken into many factions, some of which are quite violent toward anyone not like them. They also must not realize that we cannot survive for long in extreme temperatures, which is why they teleported so many South Americans into deserts and the arctic regions. After being gifted with the translation program from yourself, I reviewed the recordings of your meeting with the Omegas. They clearly state that when they used us as resource gatherers they would simply drop off those of our kind that were best suited to the environment they had to gather resources from. So, with that being understood, it’s reasonable to assume that the Omegas thought that we had adapted to this planet and could survive anywhere on its surface. Hence, the way they distributed the populace of South America.” he said, pointing to a display of the planet. “As we already know, the Omegas didn’t just drop one billion people in Chicago or Ottawa. They distributed the populace so that there would be as little disturbance to the population density or resources of the region as possible. They tried to move the people in such a way that they would easily be able to assimilate into the communities they were placed in. A simple mistake for an alien species to make if you think about it.” he said with a shrug.
President Novatrix was now pale, but the color had returned to President Silvia, “So all these deaths are due to a misunderstanding? An accident?” he asked incredulously.
Soearth nodded somberly, “That is my theory, Mr. President.”
President Silvia shook his head, “That’s not enough. That doesn’t make what they’ve done acceptable. They can’t be forgiven for thirty-eight million innocent lives lost. They must be held accountable. The people deserve to be compensated, to have justice for all the lives lost because of the Omega’s actions.” the President said angrily.
Soearth shrugged again, “I don’t necessarily disagree with you, Mr. President, but what can we do about it? How do we hold the Omegas accountable for their actions? And what happens if they become offended and decide that negotiating with us is no longer worthy of their time? The next time they decide to do something, there might not be a meeting or a conference; there might just be sudden movement from their ship and the entire populace of Candaerica ends up in the middle of the ocean.” Soearth explained gravely, “Whatever we do, we have to remember we are not on even ground with the aliens. The Omegas have us out-classed in every department, we cannot negotiate with them the same way we negotiate amongst ourselves.”
The Presidents both looked at him now, “So what do you suggest? That we just ask them nicely to not do that again?” Silvia asked.
Blackshade knew that the President was being sarcastic, and he could tell Soearth knew that too, but Soearth’s response seemed to not take the President’s sarcasm into account.
“That’s exactly what I would suggest we do, Mr. President.” he answered honestly. Then with another shrug he added, “Would we be more apt to listen to the complaints of the rodent in our walls if they came to us with demands, or if they came to us in humility?”
“So now we’re rodents?” President Silvia spat. Blackshade could tell the President meant for more outrage to be evident in his response, but Soearth’s logic was getting through to him, and therefore his outrage lacked resolve.
Soearth ignored all this as he responded, “Compared to the Omegas, rodents might be giving us a bit too much credit.” he answered sadly, “But again, I don’t believe the Omegas wish to trick or deceive us. They have no need to do so. I would suggest that the next time we have an interaction with them, we try to educate them as to our needs and our concerns. We need them to see us as something other than machines, if we are to become anything more than a curiosity to them.”
Again, no one said anything as Soearth’s words slowly sank in. President Silvia eventually began nodding, “You’re right, Soearth, but I still don’t think they should be so easily forgiven for the millions of deaths that they’ve caused. Intentionally or not.” he answered stubbornly.
“Nor do I, Mr. President, but if we bring this to their attention as we would to another country’s leader, we will be at a complete disadvantage and possibly incur their wrath. In my opinion, the only way we can make any good come from this atrocity is to use the loss of life to show the aliens we need to be treated differently. To educate them as to our needs as a species, and in turn, hopefully encourage them to see us as a living species as opposed to disposable machines.” Soearth replied patiently.
Blackshade surprised himself by speaking up, “That’s all well and good, but it’s moot until they contact us or answer our attempts at communication. Until they do, I would suggest that we refocus our efforts to rescuing as many displaced South Americans as we can, stopping the genocide happening in Africa, and dealing with the multitude of problems we can actually do something about. The Omegas are beyond us for the moment; the rest of the world is well within our control.” he said commandingly.
Soearth chuckled softly, “The Ambassador has the right of it! Let’s get down to it.”
Chapter 9
The next ten days went by in a blur. Blackshade went through more maps, read more reports, talked to more congressmen, military officers, police, business managers, and even the occasional intern during those ten days, than he had in his entire military career. His entire being was devoted to helping direct the efforts to rescue the displaced citizens of South America. Thanks to his efforts, they found millions of people stranded on islands all over the planet. Voyeur drones piloted by his own hand searched many small islands off the coast of Hawaii and the hundreds of islands off the coast of Alaska. For those he found on the islands of Hawaii, all were recovered safely. Those he found off Alaska didn’t fare as well. Thousands died before his transports could reach the islands. He took small solace in the knowledge that the people had been unconscious when exposure to subarctic temperatures had taken their lives.
The Presidents had some success in their dealings with Africa. A few bribes, some under the table deals, and bold face threats eventually got those in power to mobilize their forces and find the South Americans that still lived. For many, it was too little, too late, but as Blackshade had said days before, there would be plenty of time later to lay blame where it belonged. He had promised himself after this was over he would make Africa pay for what they had done, legalities be damned. The reports out of Africa had been more and more gruesome as time went on. In the most lawless areas of Africa, which was most of it, murdering the South Americans while they were unconscious was no longer the worst that was happening to the unfortunate people. Mass burnings, gang rapes, and holding them for ransom was becoming popular with the villainy that populated the regions. Millions of displaced South Americans had been killed by the African populace and more were being kept in makeshift prisons to be ransomed off for a quick credit. President Silvia and President Novatrix had worked tirelessly to persuade the leaders of the people committing these atrocities put a stop to it. Blackshade knew that the leaders of those regions were probably committing those acts themselves, but at least they were saying the right things now, and voyeur drones were showing the African military rounding up displaced citizens and allowing transports to bring those people to Europe. It wouldn’t save everyone, but it was better than nothing.
On a happier note, most of the displaced South Americans found inside the borders of Candaerica were alive and well. It took about twenty-four hours for the South Americans to regain consciousness after their ordeal, and only a few hours after that to regain their strength. Thankfully, once they recovered, there were no residual side effects from the transportation. The process was quicker for those that received medical treatment. Once the displaced South Americans were able to be interviewed, what they reported about what they remembered of their experiences was the same; none of them realized anything was amiss before being teleported. There was no warning or indication anything was about to happen. One minute, they were going about their daily lives, when they suddenly felt dizzy, and then blacked out. When they awoke, they found themselves either in one of Candaerica’s hospitals, or out in the open, disoriented and confused. The reports they received from overseas were more or less identical. It seemed that Tremendous had kept his word, and that no one was harmed, directly, by their actions, only their ignorance.
Blackshade still felt no desire to sleep, but his need for food and drink had come back a week ago. He had been reading a report when the scent of a protein pod struck him. It didn’t make him ravenous, it just smelled good and made his stomach growl. He asked an intern to bring him something to eat and when they returned, he ate no more or less than what was usual for him. He found it curious that he wasn’t starving after days of having nothing, but he assumed that was because there was nothing wrong with him. Whatever the Omegas did to him, it wasn’t something his body seemed to find unnatural. A few hours later, his need to use the latrine came back as well, which was more of a relief than the return of his appetite. When he was done, what came out of him was truly awful. He no longer had any doubt that the Omegas had engineered him to create the most heinous poison in the universe. Despite it all, he had been very relieved to know his body could revert back to its regular processes if he kept his distance from the Omegas. Not that he wanted to. The fact of the matter was that he missed their company and was looking forward to the moment when he was amongst them again. He had so many questions, he felt like his head was going to burst. Yet it still did his nerves some good to know there wouldn’t be any malignant side effects to being around them.
He looked up at a display that was locked on the Omega ship. Hundreds of voyeurs now circled the craft transmitting nothing but visual data as the machines still couldn’t detect it. Scientists and engineers were trying to figure out ways to improve the drones in order to detect the ships, but so far they had accomplished nothing. Blackshade didn’t expect them to; the Omegas had millions of years to develop their technology. He guessed that if they didn’t want human sensors to detect them, they wouldn’t. The massive ship still simply hovered over South America. It wasn’t moving, and as far as anyone could tell, it wasn’t doing anything either. As for the continent itself, it was completely devoid of humanity, just as it had been ten days ago. A group of displaced South Americans had hijacked a small plane and tried to fly it back to their home. The world watched as the desperate group made it as far as the northern border of Colombia when the plane suddenly began to nose dive. The voyeur drones that had been following it showed the entire gruesome scene as the small plane flew directly into the coast. It was thought that the people, a family of seven that lived in Colombia, had died in the crash. That was until they were discovered in central Texas in the middle of a park, unconscious but whole. It was determined that the Omegas had teleported the family out of the plane and back to the same field they had originally been transported to the first time. A no fly zone for passenger air craft was declared after that, in order to stop any more desperate people from trying to return to the continent. The powers that
be were worried that if a stunt like that was attempted again, the Omegas wouldn’t teleport the people away before the aircraft crashed, and there had been enough deaths due to this incident already.
As if his thoughts of the death toll had summoned them, the team of people assigned to monitor the death count entered the room. No one in the Unification Foundation looked wearier or more worn out than the poor individuals that had been assigned this task. Blackshade felt sorry for them. They had not asked for the assignment, but they were the ones that had been given the task of monitoring and reporting the current death toll of the displaced South Americans. A middle aged man named Marcus Runds was the unfortunate individual put in charge of the team. He was a chubby man that Blackshade thought might have been a jollier guy before being given this responsibility. Now his eyes had dark circles under them, his clothes were disheveled, and he looked moments away from bursting into tears. He cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention, but it wasn’t necessary, when his team walked into the room, everyone stopped and paid attention.
“I have the numbers for today.” he said sadly. His voice sounded husky, like perhaps he had been crying recently. Again, Blackshade couldn’t blame the man if he had been. Having to see and account for all the dead would drive anyone to tears.
“The current total is one hundred and ninety-four million… dead.” he informed the room, choking on the last word. “That’s with a one percent margin of error. The numbers have slowed considerably since our negotiations with Africa, however, we expect the toll to breach two hundred million by the end of the weekend.”
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