Captain Philip Carlson nodded in agreement. Flying aircraft carriers were a stable of science-fiction television programs and movies – he’d seen them on Doctor Who and The Avengers, after the concept has first appeared in Captain Scarlet – but they were considered impractical in real life. A naval aircraft carrier was hard to sink and if it did sink, it wasn't going to come down and crash on inhabited parts of the world. Besides, keeping something that large in the air was beyond human technology.
The aliens, on the other hand, had seemed to like the concept. They had had four colossal command ships, all four of which had been lowered into Earth’s atmosphere to serve as a local command centre and network node for the alien forces. That had lasted until Second Washington, when the resistance had – somehow – shot one of the command ships down. Washington had been badly damaged by the impact, but the aliens had learned a lesson. Their remaining command ships were currently hovering over the water, well away from dangerous humans.
Or so they think, Philip thought, even though it wasn't that amusing. The aliens seemed to have difficulties tracking submarines and, as far as he knew, every ballistic missile submarine the USN had had in service was still out there, waiting for the order to fire. It was quite possible that one might lurk under the hovering command ship and fire straight up, if the missile warheads could be reprogrammed to detonate without leaving the atmosphere. And if that happened, the human resistance would accidentally destroy the core of the alien resistance.
He gazed down at the endless waters underneath and scowled. They may have been working with the alien rebels, but they were still prisoners; the Rogue Leaders certainly believed them to be prisoners. If they demanded that the shuttle crew be transferred to one of the planet-side POW camps, the alien rebels would have to try to trick them into believing that the prisoners were dead. It wouldn't be an easy task. The level of surveillance the aliens seemed to consider normal made the USSR or North Korea look like a libertarian state.
“Ah,” Felicity said, suddenly. “Won’t you join us, sir?”
Philip turned to see one of the aliens standing behind him, having walked up absolutely silently. They didn't even seem to breathe, although he was fairly sure that they did need oxygen to live. If they’d needed a radically different atmospheric mix from humanity, they wouldn't have been interested in Earth in the first place. Maybe the aliens just breathed very quietly too. Everything about the alien leaders was quiet.
“Good afternoon,” the alien whispered. “I am Ulhash.”
“Thank you,” Philip said. It was so hard to tell the alien leaders apart, something that worried him. The Rogue Leaders might well be able to slip in a fake rebel to trick him into a confession. “I am Philip.”
He found himself studying the alien as he moved up to the window and peered down at the waters, far below. They had discovered that the aliens could see differently-coloured patches of skin that provided a way to identify one another, but they still all looked the same to him. Even with one of the aliens pointing out the skin patches, he hadn't been able to pick them out, convincing him that there was something inhuman about alien eyes. It shouldn't have been a surprise. If cats could see in the dark, why should aliens – who came from a whole different biosphere – be restricted to the same frequencies as human eyes?
It was difficult to read emotion from the aliens, but he had a feeling that he was finally figuring it out. Humans showed their emotions on their faces; the aliens literally couldn't alter their facial expressions beyond a faint smile. Instead, their hands moved in odd patterns, which indicated their emotional state. Ulhash looked worried, as far as he could tell. But it was impossible to be sure.
“We have produced a second version of the cure,” the alien said, without preamble. Small talk didn't seem to be part of their culture. “It should be a refinement on the previous version and will, hopefully, allow the victim to return to normal much faster.”
Philip glanced over at him. It had been hard to figure out a way to send the test results to the alien rebels; they’d eventually settled for mailing the files to a dummy email address, which had transferred the file into a human computer being used by the aliens for research purposes. They’d known that they were taking a risk, but there was no choice. They needed a way to free the Walking Dead.
“And afterwards?” He asked. “What happens then?”
“It will depend upon their strength of will,” the alien admitted. “The physical effects of the implants can be neutralised before they prove fatal. Psychological effects will be much harder to counter. It is not something we can program the nanites into countering.”
“Understood,” Philip said.
There was a long pause. “There is a possibility,” Ulhash added. “One of our researchers could go to your base and assist your doctors in monitoring the treatment. It might be possible to refine it sufficiently to prevent it from causing mental breakdowns.”
Philip blinked in surprise. “I thought you were all monitored?”
“We would have to convince the network that the researcher was dead,” Ulhash said. “It may be the only way to refine the treatment properly, short of implanting you and then experimenting with the cure.”
It would have been a joke – or a threat – coming from a human. Philip had the feeling that, coming from the alien, it was a simple statement of fact.
“I don’t want to be implanted,” he said, flatly.
“Nor I,” Felicity added, quickly.
Ulhash didn't try to talk them into it. “We are working on ways to evade the surveillance systems long enough to get a researcher down to the planet,” he said. “It will require your active collaboration.”
“Tell us what you want and we will try to arrange it,” Philip said, although he had his doubts. The reports had stated that every alien who fell into human hands – who even might fall into human eyes – ended up dead, killed by implants in their heads. Given the existence of the Rogue Leaders, it made a certain kind of macabre sense. The captives, away from the Rogue Leaders, might start to question their decisions. “But if they realise that we have a guest ...”
“Precautions must be taken,” Ulhash agreed. “We will detail them for your people; if they can meet them, we can move ahead.”
There was a long pause. “Tell me,” Philip said, finally. “How do you want this war to end?”
“There is no way we can leave this planet,” Ulhash said, flatly. “The mothership was reaching the limits of its resources when it finally staggered into orbit around Earth. Even if the Rogue Leaders were defeated without further trouble, we would still be unable to leave.”
Philip nodded. They’d guessed as much.
“We would trade technology for part of your planet,” Ulhash added. “And we would set up bases on your moon and other nearby worlds. The Rogue Leaders are already laying the foundations for bases on your moon.”
Where they would be completely out of reach, Philip thought. And they would have access to the boundless wealth of the solar system.
“There will be humans who won’t like sacrificing any of Earth,” Philip pointed out, truthfully. “Can you satisfy them?”
“We cannot leave this world,” Ulhash countered. “All that matters is the terms on which we settle.”
Philip scowled, but he understood. No matter the reasons behind the invasion and colonisation, the People were here to stay. There was no way to throw them off Earth and if they tried ... the Rogue Leaders intended to enslave humanity through their genes. Ulhash and the other rebels might settle for trying to exterminate the human race. Why not? Philip had no illusions that they would be prepared to sacrifice themselves for the human race. There was no way they would simply choose to go quietly into the night. Why should they?
We’re not bargaining from strength here, he thought, numbly. And while we may be allies, our goals are not identical in the long run.
There would be people, he knew, who would accuse America of selling out the
rest of the world. But what other choice was there? Even before the invasion, the US couldn't have matched the aliens; now, the once-proud American military was a shambling wreck. It would take decades to recover, even if the aliens abandoned America immediately. Besides, it was hard to summon up much pity for the Middle East. Let the locals and the aliens kill each other for as long as they chose.
“I believe that would be understandable,” he said, finally. “But don’t we have to win first?”
The alien’s hand moved in a pattern he was starting to recognise as a smile.
“Yes,” Ulhash said. “We must win.”
“We requested technical data,” Philip said. “Can that be provided?”
“Some of it can be,” Ulhash said. “However, much of it is beyond your ability to produce immediately.”
Philip nodded. As a space shuttle commander, he'd done his best to follow the latest developments in aerospace research and he’d heard of nothing as advanced as the alien tech. There certainly hadn't been anything more than whispers about antigravity, of theories that had never produced real technology, or of warp drives ... he’d once read a book where such technology had been deployed in secret and used to wage war on an alien race. Clearly, if the book was based on a real organisation, they were asleep at the switch. Or maybe they no longer cared about Earth.
“We can start unlocking its secrets,” he said, finally. “And we might discover something we can use against the Rogue Leaders.”
But it was hard to see what they could do. Most of the Rogue Leaders were on the mothership, or on the other command ships; they were largely out of reach. And even if they were taken out, what would the others do? Could Ulhash and his allies take control quickly, or would other factions form and start a civil war? There was no way to know.
“I meant to ask,” he added. “Why are the Rogue Leaders insisting that humans produce certain items for them?”
“Our stockpiles have been drained by our voyage,” Ulhash explained. “What we have, we cannot replace easily. The Rogue Leaders intend to rebuild our industrial base, using your technology to save our own. And, if you should happen to copy what they have taught you to build, it will give you no real advantage.”
Philip scowled, bitterly.
Everyone who knew anything about rockets knew that reaching orbit was the hard part. A rocket needed a vast amount of fuel, which in turned heightened the mass and demanded that the rocket needed more fuel ... multiple stage rockets ensured that the weight dropped as quickly as possible. Once someone was in orbit, it was relatively easy to reach the moon, or Mars ... there was no need for vast stockpiles of fuel. But getting to orbit was the tricky part.
The aliens didn't have that problem. There was no shortage to the amount of materials they could haul into orbit, simply by using their antigravity systems. Given time, there was no reason why they couldn't transport an entire human colony to the moon, where purely human tech could be used to mine and expand the base. And if they did try to fight, the aliens would still have a colossal advantage. What did it matter if nanites or bare hands were used to mine lunar ore? The aliens could still use it.
And then they can rebuild their own industrial base at leisure, he thought. And after that the war is lost.
He’d seen enough of the alien technology to know that it could have been used much more imaginatively than they seemed to use it. But if they had a shortage of materials, they wouldn't want to do more than replace destroyed war material and other essentials. Given some time to build up and deploy new industrial nodes, they could produce far more materials than Earth ... and then expand through the solar system. Earth, irony of ironies, might end up as a backwater, at least until the aliens had finished converting the human race to slaves.
Philip shook his head in disbelief. No one could ever accuse the Rogue Leaders of thinking small.
“Clever bastards,” he muttered, sourly. He looked up at the alien. “Can we stop them?”
“There is no choice,” Ulhash said, flatly. “If we fail, two races will be doomed to endless servitude. The result will be inevitable destruction.”
He looked down at Philip. “We will transmit the technical data and other ... materials when they next make contact,” he said. “And we will discuss the plan for sending a representative to the surface. Once we have arrangements made, we will move ahead as quickly as possible.”
Philip hoped that the alien was right and that the plan could succeed. The Rogue Leaders would move Heaven and Earth to recover any downed alien – and, in this case, they would have a chance to crack the resistance movement wide open. He opened his mouth to suggest that the alien be equipped with a suicide implant, then changed his mind. It wasn't a suggestion he could make.
“If we do manage to free the Walking Dead,” Felicity said, “what next? How do we actually win?”
“The only way we can,” Ulhash said. “We take out the Rogue Leaders.”
***
The alien computer network was superb, Philip had been forced to admit. It wasn't, according to the aliens, intelligent in its own right, but it was supremely adaptable and responsive to the people who used it. His thoughts on just how much the aliens had to offer the Earth had only grown more and more specific, the further he delved into their technology. Quite apart from spacecraft and other technology, their computers would help change the world.
But, like human computers, they could be perverted. The Chinese had established the Great Firewall of China in hopes of blocking out the outside world. It hadn't been a great success, even if multinational companies had bowed the knee to China rather than stand up for the principle of free speech. The youth of China had proved surprisingly capable of subverting the network controls. But if they’d had alien tech ... loopholes, as soon as they were found, were closed. The process was so capable that he started to wonder if the computer network was really intelligent after all. Maybe it was just staying very quiet.
The aliens were under heavy surveillance, almost all the time. Philip hadn't realised just how difficult it had been to conceal Nicolas and Abigail when they were transported to the command ship, even with command overrides. The alien rebels had taken one hell of a risk then – and more, when they’d make their alliance with Philip and the rest of the shuttle crew. They were monitored so intensely that Philip was impressed they’d worked up the nerve to launch their rebellion in the first place. A single mistake would have been disastrous. They’d shown more bravery then the brave souls who’d stood up to human dictators and had often been crushed for their pains.
He skimmed through the files, trying to see possible points of attack. According to Ulhash, the leadership caste were expected to periodically review files – and he’d unlocked them for Philip using his biological signature. In theory, the network couldn't tell that it was being used by a human, but Philip wasn't so sure. It had to be obvious that, no matter how intuitive the system was, he wasn't an authorised user. Sweat was running down his back as he finally found the files he was looking for, the locations of the alien leaders.
But which ones are Rogue? He asked himself. It was impossible to be sure. Attack the wrong ones and we might give the Rogue Leaders more allies.
The alien government was ... very alien, by human standards. Or maybe it wasn't very alien at all. The only people allowed to make decisions, certainly long-term decisions, were the alien leaders, while everyone else was expected to follow their lead. And, as there were genuine biological differences between the castes, the system might never be unseated or replaced with something more palatable. He thought about the tiny alien workers and wondered, grimly, if there was a spark of intelligence in their dark eyes. Or if they were truly nothing more than the worker ants their actions made them seem.
And that’s what they have in mind for humanity, he thought. The concept was so horrifically vast as to be almost beyond comprehension. How did one fight something on such a scale? They have to be stopped.
Alien leade
rs commanded, Ulhash had said – and he’d seen for himself how every other caste deferred to the leaders, even among the rebels. They were biologically programmed to follow the leaders; resistance had been hard, almost futile, even before the Rogue Leaders had started tampering with DNA belonging to the other castes. Since then, they had been followed without question. If they’d had more time before the aliens had arrived on Earth, they might have eradicated the resistance before it could even form.
There has to be a solution, he thought, numbly. He would not see humanity turned into a face of half-alien slaves. A way to kill them all ...
And then, staring at the holographic display, he thought he had it.
But the price would be staggeringly high.
Chapter Twelve
Near Richmond, USA
Day 204 - 210
They travelled at night, passing through the Shenandoah National Park and staying well away from roads and human settlements, trying to avoid anyone who might betray them to the aliens. The countryside was dark and silent, any vehicle had to be assumed to be hostile, the night sky was full of strange lights ... and the President felt better than he had in months. Part of him wanted to run and cheer; whatever else happened, he was out of the bunker!
The soldiers with him took no chances. They holed up in tents during the day and caught up with their sleep, even though they met no one as they made their slow way from Mannington to the coast. The President had served in Iraq and knew that it would be hard for the aliens to occupy every square metre of American soil, but he had to admit that their paranoia was justified. If the aliens caught a sniff of him, they’d throw all of their resources into capturing the President and turning him into their unwilling ally.
When they ate, meals were cold ration bars and bottled water. They refused to take the risk of using a heating element. No one knew just how capable the alien orbital surveillance network was at tracking humans on the ground, but the President knew enough about how far the US had advanced since 9/11 to be worried about what the aliens could do. They might well be capable of eventually locating everyone in the United States and forcing them to register, or simply send a drone out to kill them.
Outside Context Problem: Book 03 - The Slightest Hope of Victory Page 11
