The first was suggested by Director Druckman: the creation of a FERMAT-based timer that could be used to signal the most basic of Earth-side intentions—the intention to do something. Before any approach toward the spacecraft was made, for example, the timer would count down from five minutes. Humans would initiate their movement when the countdown ended. ET-1 would hopefully figure out the pattern and understand that Earth-side was trying to reduce uncertainty for ET-1 by signaling its intention to act—even if the action itself could not be described in advance. “If nothing else,” Silla suggested, “they might understand that we’re struggling to reach out to them. Maybe they have better ideas. Maybe it inspires them to propose a way to communicate.”
The second idea was significantly more ambitious. Others had laughed when Druckman said “color by numbers,” but Silla explained that the CIA director had, in fact, hit upon something profound. “The reason children color by numbers is because it makes it easy to create something that is otherwise very difficult. Each number represents the same color for the entire project—a crude but effective technique to produce something that looks halfway decent. So, what if we teach them to paint by numbers—or rather, to talk by numbers—by associating basic words with numbers? One is a human. Two is their spacecraft. Three is walking. Four is standing still. Five is a gift. Six is a weapon. Seven is approach. And so on.”
“Brilliant,” said Strauss, and the group started to explore the mechanics and limits of such an approach. Once Silla explained what could be done with the use of machine learning, the possibilities seemed almost limitless—if it worked in the first place. All they had to do was build a language that did not exist, a technology with which to deploy it, and a pedagogy for teaching it to aliens. Fortunately, they weren’t starting entirely from scratch. Research on how humans might someday communicate with aliens was not new; ideas had been proposed and debated for decades. But none of those ideas were tailored to the precise requirements, opportunities, and constraints that existed in the current situation.
Art was assigned the task of building a team with scientists from DARPA (the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency), along with linguists, mathematicians, and machine learning specialists, to design the language system. The group would coordinate with the FERMAT team to ensure compatibility with its broadcasting methodology. If the idea worked, it could be deployed quickly, at least with basic words. But the aspiration was far greater—to build a practical, efficient, and scalable tool for facilitating ever more complex communication.
“Art, you tell your team that if they can execute on Agent Silla’s vision for this, I will make sure every one of them is named a United States poet laureate,” Whitman announced with a completely straight face.
It was 10:15 a.m. by the time the meeting ended. The group would meet again at 2:30 p.m. General Allen would report on plans for a human approach into the kill-zone, VP Nielsen would report on what should be delivered to ET-1 using the cat shooter, Director Druckman would update the group on how the FERMAT-based timer would be deployed, and Art Capella would provide an update on efforts to create a language with which to speak to the aliens.
And then, as everyone set off in different directions, Whitman returned to the Oval Office and shifted her focus to the non-alien parts of her job. She still had a country to run.
~ 49 ~
When the group reconvened at 2:30 p.m., Director Druckman reported first: the countdown clock was operational.
“Based on ET-1’s ability to decipher our earlier messages, we believe it should be possible for them to figure out what the broadcast represents—once they have some data to work with. I have teams broadcasting one-minute, three-minute, and eight-minute countdowns, after which they take some innocuous but salient action. For example, they might shine a bright light in the direction of ET-1, launch a drone that’s visible to the spacecraft, or turn on some loud music. All actions are being initiated at 300 degrees on the perimeter.”
“How will we know if they understand our use of the timer?” Whitman asked.
“If they don’t respond to it at all, we probably won’t know whether they understood it. On the other hand, they might mimic our behavior, as they’ve done in the past. Or, perhaps, they’ll take some action that coincides with the end of one of our countdowns. It’s hard to know for sure.”
“Okay. Keep at it. There might come a time when we have to count on the fact that they know what we’re doing.”
“Yes, Madam President.”
VP Nielsen reported on the care-package proposal. “We’re working with some assumptions and constraints. First, we’re not sure anyone is inside ET-1—nor do we know whether they’re able to retrieve what we send—so we’ve included some things they might be able to assess from a distance. Second, we obviously want to avoid anything threatening. And third, we don’t want to give them a one-dimensional view of humanity, so we plan to send a wide range of items and make multiple deliveries.
“Our list includes the following: a collection of fruits and vegetables, some packaged foods, bottled water, a number of books, some art, an analog clock, a camera, a fully charged laptop, a battery-powered portable CD player with music playing, a radio that’s switched on, a small battery-powered television that’s also switched on, a telescope, a soccer ball, a baseball, some clothes, shoes, a flashlight, a guitar, a model airplane, a chessboard with pieces and pictorial instructions, some dice, some candies, and some flowers. That’s everything. Let’s hear suggestions and concerns.”
A few people were apprehensive about revealing too much information regarding Earth-side science and technology. Others pointed out that the electrical equipment might not even survive in the kill-zone. The most serious concern was raised by Silla, who strongly advised against sending food items. “We know nothing about their immune systems. The last thing we want to do is send something that kills them. They might even think we were trying to poison them.” Everyone agreed, and the food items were struck from the list.
Apart from that, the plan was approved, subject only to some further discussion on which books to send. The group decided against sending any religious texts. Fiction was also eliminated from the list, so as not to confuse the aliens about the reality of life on Earth. In the end, they settled on a world atlas, a dictionary, an abridged encyclopedia, two books on human history, a physics textbook, a mathematics textbook, a textbook on algorithms and another on computer programming languages, a book with sheet music, and three picture books—one with images of nature, one with images of space, and one depicting diverse human cultures. Before the discussion ended, Whitman decided to add a third history book to the list: Heirs of Herodotus. “It’s as good a book on human history as any,” she said with a smile.
Kilmer thought she was joking—and then quickly realized she was not. Okay. Cool.
The president then turned the discussion over to Art, who was calling in from Triad. Art informed everyone that his team was up and running and that they expected to have Version 1.0 of the new language ready for deployment within twenty-four hours. They were calling it Hermes.
Whitman saw the blank faces in the room. “The messenger god,” she explained. “As well as the Greek god of language.”
“That’s correct, Madam President,” Art responded. “The linguists are unanimous in their support for the name. The mathematicians hate it, but they like the idea of being named poet laureates, so they’re willing to continue working on the project.”
Whitman laughed.
“Okay. General Allen, you’re up. What do you have in mind for the first dance?”
After a few tweaks from the group, Allen’s plan was finalized as follows. HQ-1 would broadcast a five-minute countdown, after which eight soldiers would cross the perimeter and make their way toward ET-1. Only four would be in uniform. They would chat with one another and occasionally look over at the spacecraft—and not pretend that it wasn’t there. The soldiers would wear light body armor underneath t
heir clothes, but they would carry no weapons. They would have cell phones, two-way radios, and body cameras, although these would probably not survive the kill-zone. The group would move at a comfortable pace until they were 115 yards from ET-1, at which point they would cease forward movement, look at ET-1, wave, and do their best to indicate they were asking for permission to enter. HQ-1 would then broadcast a three-minute countdown. When the clock hit zero, the group would continue to move forward, more slowly, into the kill-zone. Unless something stopped them, they would continue until they were 20 yards from the spacecraft. At that point, one soldier would address the spacecraft with a spoken message that the aliens would probably not understand but might still assume was a welcome of some sort. The team would then wait for up to five minutes in hopes of receiving some response. If they did receive a response, the soldiers would have to use their own judgment on how to react, because communication with the perimeter would probably not be possible. If they were afraid, hurt, or unsure what to do, they were to simply return to the perimeter.
Whitman looked around the room. “If any of you think this is a bad idea, now is the time to speak. You’re only in this room because I trust you to voice your opinions.”
Secretary Strauss spoke first. He opposed sending unarmed soldiers. At the very least, he argued, the president ought to send a second team of soldiers—visibly armed and in formation—behind the first. “Let’s make sure they know that the welcome committee has backup.”
General Ramsey, Director Druckman, and the Army’s chief of staff all supported Strauss’s suggestion, to varying degrees. No one else saw the need to revise the plan that General Allen had articulated. NSA Garcia said that she had been expecting something closer to consensus and wondered whether waiting another day to decide would be wise.
Whitman issued her judgment. “We will move ahead with the plan as described by General Allen—there will be one group of soldiers, and they will go unarmed. No changes to that. But I understand the concerns some of you are raising, so here’s what we’re going to do. First, I am not going to leave our men out there to fend for themselves. Armed soldiers and combat medics will be on the perimeter and ready to move into Touchdown-1 if something goes wrong. General Ramsey, I also want artillery and helicopters ready to deploy on a moment’s notice. But nothing that happens inside the perimeter—and nothing the aliens might easily observe—should give them reason to think we are being hostile or preparing for a fight. I don’t want to send any mixed signals.”
She did not invite further discussion. “How soon can we do this?” she asked.
General Ramsey answered. “We can be ready in thirty minutes.”
“Okay. We’ll send in the welcome committee at 6 p.m. Before that, we’ll deliver a few of Zack’s care packages and see if there’s any response. Maybe we learn something. At the very least, I hope it signals our good intentions.”
~ 50 ~
At 3:30 p.m., the cat shooter launched its first set of “care packages”. Some books, a cell phone, and a telescope. At 3:50, 4:10, and 4:45, additional deliveries were made. In each case the launch was preceded by a three-minute countdown. Only one of the deliveries missed the mark completely, landing outside the kill-zone. Most landed within twenty yards of ET-1. All fourteen of the deliveries sat on the field, untouched.
The first few launches had been fun to observe, but with ET-1 not responding, the team disbanded to focus on other issues. They would reconvene at 5:50 p.m., ten minutes prior to the start of Operation School Dance.
At 5:00, Chief of Staff Perez asked Kilmer to come to his office for a brief chat. When Kilmer entered the room, he saw that they weren’t alone. President Whitman was there as well.
“Thanks for joining us, Professor.”
“Madam President,” Kilmer responded—and then looked back at Perez. “Is everything okay?”
“Not exactly,” Perez replied.
Whitman addressed Kilmer. “I’m afraid that I need to burden you with one more thing. It’s not something you signed up for, but I hope you’ll agree to help. Regardless of your decision, I ask for your discretion in the matter.”
Kilmer nodded, but more so in acknowledgment than consent. He couldn’t help but notice that both Perez and Whitman appeared to have been expecting a more emphatic Of course, Madam President.
Whitman looked at her chief of staff and gave a nod, as if to say, Go ahead, we’ll just take our chances. Perez looked skeptical but complied.
“Professor Kilmer,” he began, “are you familiar with Article II, Section 4 of the US Constitution?”
Kilmer had not seen this coming. “I am, Mr. Perez. Why do you ask?”
“Because there are at least a few people around here who think it’s relevant.”
“I don’t see how—unless the president has been doing things that I’m not aware of.”
“Professor Kilmer,” Whitman interjected sternly, “there are many things I do that you’re not aware of. But as to the insinuation you’ve just made, no, I have not been doing things that would be of concern.”
“Then I don’t understand. If all you’ve done is—”
Suddenly, Kilmer realized what this was about. “I see,” he reflected. “October 23rd. 1962.”
“Excuse me?” Perez said.
“That’s the day President Kennedy signed the order to blockade Cuba during the Cuban Missile Crisis. The date isn’t important. What’s important is that JFK felt he had no choice but to take that action—even though he was worried that matters might escalate as a result. That night Bobby Kennedy told him that if he hadn’t ordered the blockade, he probably would have been impeached for being too complacent. JFK didn’t disagree.” Kilmer looked to Whitman. “Is that what this is about?”
“I suppose it’s comforting to know that President Kennedy confronted similar demons,” Whitman confessed.
“He did, Madam President. But he also managed to walk the fine line—giving the hawks in his administration a voice without letting them control the agenda. And despite the pressure, he didn’t choose to protect his presidency over doing what he thought was right.”
“Nor will I, Professor Kilmer. But it is a tight rope we sometimes have to walk. I’m asking for your help in making sure that we can strike the right balance.”
“If you tell me what’s going on, I’ll try to help. But I have to be candid: I can’t help you if it means supporting a strategy or an agenda that I think is wrong-headed or unethical.”
Perez seemed uncomfortable with the condition—or, perhaps, just with the fact that Kilmer had the temerity to impose conditions at all. But Whitman seemed unbothered.
“Two weeks ago,” she responded, “I would have said with genuine humility that I’m not the only one who is fit to do this job—that if something happened to me, others could be trusted to take over. But I’m afraid things have changed. If the reins are handed over to one of our more hawkish colleagues now, it could spell disaster. I can’t let that happen. You don’t know me that well, Professor, so this probably sounds very self-serving to you. That’s okay. Your skepticism is healthy—and I can live with it.”
“Madam President, I’ve seen the way some of the people on your team think about the crisis. I can understand why you might worry if they were in charge. But I need more information about what’s really going on here. What can you tell me?”
Perez explained that Secretary Strauss, Director Druckman, and General Ramsey—and possibly others—were hoping to remove the president from office. They believed that the president’s handling of the crisis showed weakness and naivety, and that it put the country at risk. There was no indication that they were out to undermine her legal authority—they would still follow orders while she was president—but they had started to build coalitions against her, including reaching out to members of the opposition in the House and the Senate. They had planted seeds of fear and doubt that were beginning to take root. If things went wrong, they wanted to be in position to m
ake their move.
“It’s public knowledge,” Perez continued, “that Strauss considered running for president in the last election. He only decided against it because he didn’t think an incumbent could be defeated given how well the economy was doing. Strauss figured he’d wait another four years and run after President Conway’s second term was over. He certainly didn’t think Marianne Whitman would beat Tim Conway. You might remember that Strauss didn’t even endorse her until mere days before the election. How much of that was resentment versus political calculation versus genuine disagreement on policy is hard to know, but all three have always been in the mix.
“Strauss was the only person we asked to join the administration who turned us down at first. He’s also the only one who has discussed the possibility of running against President Whitman when she’s up for reelection—and those conversations started even before the current crisis. Of course, we mostly knew what we were getting into when we brought Strauss on board—and we still wanted him—but what he’s doing now goes too far.”
“What exactly are you worried he’ll do?”
“Best case scenario, he won’t do anything,” Perez answered. “He’ll just wait to see if things go wrong and if the president loses support. Worst case scenario… well, for certain people there isn’t any line they won’t cross. But it’s not the ambitious politician you have to worry about. The most dangerous people are the ones who have convinced themselves that their cause is a righteous one.”
“Is that why you sent General Allen to Station Zero? To keep an eye on Strauss?”
“That’s a very small part of it,” Whitman interjected. “As you’ve seen, I continue to count on Secretary Strauss and the others. I still trust them to do their jobs and to do them well. If that were to change, having General Allen at Station Zero would certainly be useful. But I have seen no evidence to suspect such a thing.”
The Peacemaker's Code Page 17
