For those in Olympic Stadium in Miami, and the countless multitudes witnessing the incredible drama being played out there, events are also coming to an end, a tragic, and violent end.
Chapter Eighteen
Still projected across a quarter of the night sky, the unbelievable events in Miami have mesmerized hundreds of millions of spectators as they witness events that will effectively alter the course of human history. Some however, are simply unable to accept that what they are seeing is actually real. It doesn’t seem possible that something like this could really be happening. In rapt fascination, they hear and watch the dialogue continue.
As the Vice President grapples with the unexpected proposal of eliminating the world’s nuclear weapons, his response is reserved and indefinite.
“I, uh, don’t have the authority to decide that.”
“You hesitate, Mr. Conner. Your tentative response is not encouraging. You should respond as a child would instantly run from fire. It’s not your fear, but your habit of fear, that chokes you.”
“Removing all nuclear weapons is something that requires consultation, preparation, and agreement. Other people have to be involved. I can’t make that decision alone.”
“That’s right, Mr. Conner. Only the people, and nations of Earth can decide what their future will be, but you need to know something. The longer you choose to live with these powerful weapons, the more likely their use becomes. Like children playing with hand grenades, your technical civilization is simply not mature enough to tamper with that scale of energy release. We implore you to reconsider this.”
“We want to avoid any and all disasters, either now or in the future, and we hope you will help us do that,” Mr. Conner says.
“You cannot avoid the coming environmental collapse, but you can avoid the fatal combination of that and a nuclear war.”
After a momentary pause the Linesian says these words: “We could neutralize your arsenals without you even knowing it, but you would restore them. It’s better that you collectively choose to envision a reality without them, and dismantle them yourselves.”
At this, the Vice President looks over and sees the President stand up, and watches him do something he hasn’t done since this remarkable drama began more than thirty hours ago. In contrast to his strangely detached personal demeanor, he looks for the first time at the Linesian android, and an unspoken communication between them seems to occur. Then the Linesian looks back at Vice President Conner, and says something that will be remembered for centuries.
“Only when mankind can collectively envision a future without the blight of war and violence will that peaceful world that waits in your imagination become a reality. That human future is now inviting you into itself. When, and only when we see that you have accepted that invitation will we return again, unsummoned and ready to help.”
With these words the Linesian ends, and briefly looks once more at President Myers. All has been said. The time is now 1:09 a.m.
Far from her son and the dramatic suspense playing out in Miami, the dreaming Kathryn Myers remains a captive witness to her own personal nightmare that is now reaching its terminal climax. She finds herself again with the doomed animal whose death walk has brought it to the last moments of its life. Her worst fear is realized. Kathryn Myers must personally witness this killing. She must watch as this living creature, a creature she feels viscerally connected to in some strange way, is electrically shocked into unconsciousness, hung upside down by its legs, and has its throat sliced open. As she lies sleeping on the couch, a paralyzing sense of extreme dread comes over her. The final grisly act of her nightmarish ordeal now plays out. For Kathryn Myers this disturbing, scene is shocking in its brutal intensity. She has no idea that this dream will return again, and again, in her life, leaving her a changed woman. Only twelve feet away from her, the televised image of her son is visible. If mercy can be credited with sparing Kathryn Myers any degree of unnecessary anguish, it will be because she will not have to see what is about to happen in Miami, Florida. Kathryn Myers will wake from the nightmare she is presently experiencing, into one that will never end, the one that will soon begin in Olympic Stadium.
The world watches as the scene in Miami reaches its grim conclusion. Vice President Conner, along with billions who have been seeing this spectacle unfold, watch President Myers and seem to sense something imminent. Unexpectedly, Ken Myers now begins walking away from the chair where he has passively sat since this incredible drama began. He walks past Vice President Conner and the Linesian android without looking at them. When he reaches a point some thirty feet away he stops and looks out into the crowd. He sees the van parked no more than two hundred feet away, the same van that arrived only several hours before. He knows his assassin is ready.
The sole occupant of this van is a man whose personal demons have pushed him over the edge. At the center of Todd Keniston’s silent rage is a seething anger at his wife. From his darker side a sick plan for twisted revenge waits for the moment to strike back at a wife’s betrayal. He thinks to himself, she’s going to know that this is what she drove me to. She’ll have to live with that for the rest of her life. He removes a picture of his wife from his shirt pocket, and looks at it intently. In seething bitterness, before tearing it up he says 'this one's for you bitch.' The time is now 1:15 a.m. The President looks directly at the van, and then turns his head sideways and remains completely still, offering himself to the sacrifice. The image of the President’s cameo profile is now visible both as a massive projected image filling the night sky and universally broadcast on nearly every television being watched throughout the world.
For Kathryn Myers her nightmare reaches its apex. She feels a stabbing pain in her abdomen, and in agony lurches to one side in her sleep. She sees the final killing thrust, and the copious flow of blood.
At the same time the television a few yards away from her shows the President suddenly falling to the ground, and the ensuing mayhem that quickly follows. An audible shockwave of gasping disbelief sweeps over thousands of onlookers in Olympic Stadium and reverberates around the globe to the countless millions watching. The President has been shot. The Vice President is first to his side, and then an emergency medical team quickly surrounds the President in full response mode. Shock, uncertainty, and the panicked anguish of the moment is seen on many faces. As the President is put on a stretcher and carried to a prepositioned medical station, those who see him react with despair, and some come away in tears. Seeing the President carried away the Vice President looks at the Linesian android still standing only a few yards away, and pleads for help.
“Please, our President’s been shot. You can help. What you did for the Congressman, you could do for him, please. He’s dying.”
No response is heard. Instead, the Vice President sees the alien creature with whom he’s just had a nearly two-hour conversation dramatically change its form. With bedlam still surging around him, the Linesian bipedal android now starts getting smaller, and what formerly looked like a humanoid body with arms, legs, and hands becomes a round featureless blue liquid, as it begins to stream back into the surface of the spacecraft where it’s reabsorbed, as if they were the same material. As this happens, the enormous image projected across the night sky, where the incredible scenes of man’s catastrophic future visually commanded a planetary audience for two consecutive nights, simply disappears. Then the spacecraft changes its appearance. Its surface becomes iridescent and begins to shimmer. It then slowly and silently begins to rise until it’s twenty feet in the air. Many in the crowd cry out, hoping it won’t leave, but when the craft quickly climbs several hundred feet, it’s departure is obvious, and within a few seconds it’s no longer visible.
In silent, stunned amazement people seem lost, as if nothing in their world seems familiar anymore. As the Vice President is whisked away, those remaining feel a sense of emptiness and emotional desolation. They fear the worst for their President, and recoil to think this terrible a
ct would happen in the way it did. As the ambulance carrying the President speeds away, some people are consoling each other, some are praying, some are crying, and others simply stare ahead in general disbelief, not knowing what to think. Moments later an official voice is heard from a loudspeaker.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we strongly recommend that at this time you go back to your homes, your hotel, or wherever you’re staying. We have not, I repeat, we have not been given any information about the President’s condition. We know you’re anxious, and uh, so are we, but there’s nothing we can do but pray. So please, if you would, in a calm, and orderly way just go back home at this time. Thank you.”
Very few in the crowd of thousands respond. Stupefied expressions of sorrow and wearied amazement seem to plead for something more to happen, but as minutes pass only the cooling wind of a Florida night makes its presence known. With the moon still brightly lit near zenith, a broad bank of storm clouds can be seen moving up from the south. This with the sound of distant lightning is what finally begins dispersing the crowd. All originally came to see the President signal the start of the Summer Olympics. Instead they became first hand observers to the most consequential thirty-one hours in recorded human history. As the sharpening sound of thunder gets closer, more people begin to leave. Only those of official duty remain in the area which is now a crime scene.
For Kathryn Myers, still sleeping on her couch, the terror of her fitful, disturbing dream is slowly subsiding. With her phone turned off, she will sleep until morning before she learns about what happened in Miami. A pall of desolate grief and inconsolable sorrow waits for her with the morning news.
Chapter Nineteen
When the next day’s morning sun rises, it shines on a nation and a world that is changed forever. For people across the globe, and especially for those in America, the worst has been confirmed. The President of the United States has been assassinated, and a nation numb with grief gropes with the realization of its sudden loss. The events of the last few days have stunned and traumatized the people of the United States and the entire world. It’s difficult to overstate the impact of last night’s events. When the terrible moment came at 1:16 in the morning, hundreds of millions were watching. Surprisingly, very few television networks are replaying the tragic footage, perhaps fearing a sharp reaction of disapproval from the public. To show the obliterating impact that a high-speed ballistic projectile has on a human cranium is distasteful enough, but when that cranium belongs to the President of the United States, re-witnessing the event is considered luridly gratuitous. For most, the visually graphic nature of the killing is emotionally, and psychologically, it’s most disturbing aspect.
As Kathryn Myers rouses from her sleep, she is experiencing the last few seconds of familiar normalcy in her life that she will ever know. Still groggy from her disquieting rest, she doesn’t immediately comprehend the import of what’s being said on her television. For a moment she wonders if she’s still dreaming, but when she slowly stands, and hears the announcer’s words, the full impact of its sudden realization strikes her. Her knees buckle and touch the floor, and a bitter effusion of tears and wailing begins. The nation’s sorrow is now her sorrow, magnified many times over. The announcer’s words cut sharply and deeply.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is what we know so far. Last night at 1:16 in the morning, the President of the United States received a single and fatal gunshot wound to the head, killing him instantly. The assassin was a man named Todd Keniston, who was shot and killed himself, by authorities only seconds after the President was killed. What we know about him is that he’s an ex-marine who worked extensively overseas as a military contractor. He lives, or used to live in North Carolina, he was recently divorced from his wife, and uh, we now have it confirmed that while he was in the Marines he received sniper training. Authorities now are saying that when federal agents searched the home of Todd Keniston earlier this morning in North Carolina, they found a number of weapons including four assault rifles, so he was, uh, apparently very proficient with weapons.
“It’s almost inconceivable to think that any other news story could rank in importance with the assassination of a President, but that is exactly what we’re dealing with right now. What the world has seen in the past few days is nothing short of astonishing. Our civilization has apparently had its first extended encounter with an intelligent creature from another world. Whether or not the assassination of our President is somehow linked to this incredible event is still very unclear.
“All right, we’re just getting word that a news conference is scheduled to begin at FBI Headquarters here in Washington with Director Slaughter, CIA Director Stuart, and several Senators That’s scheduled for ten o’clock, about a half hour from now, so we will certainly go live with that news conference as soon as it begins.”
Staggering to her feet, Kathryn Myers turns the TV off, and with the personal weight of deep unbearable anguish walks to her bedroom and lays down sobbing, totally grief stricken. The normal life that she has lived to this point is now over, and will never return.
Meanwhile, outside of FBI headquarters two men sit in their car and carefully consider what they will be saying in this important press conference beginning shortly. CIA Director Paul Stuart and Senator Jack Fields have good reason to prepare themselves for this encounter with the media. For these two men who conspired to have the President murdered, it’s imperative that they control the direction and content of this news conference. As the two men sit, Senator Fields nervously checks his watch.
“How much time do we have?” the CIA director asks.
“Right now it’s 9:35.”
“Okay, so let’s go over this once more, just briefly. We need to stay ahead of this thing.”
“I wish we could let this thing just blow over, but we can’t.”
“It’s just a matter of time before Merrick, or somebody in the FBI, starts talking to the press about the secret file on Myers.”
“I don’t know about the FBI, but I guarantee Merrick will. I know Senator Merrick. He’ll spill his guts, and sooner rather than later,” says Senator Fields.
“That’s why we need to get ahead of it. Merrick is the key in all this. Now we can assume that the last thing the director of the FBI wants to do is inform the public that he’s been conducting a secret investigation of the President. To say that one day after he’s been assassinated would enrage too many people. He knows that.”
“He doesn’t have a choice.”
“That’s right. He doesn’t. He knows just like us that Merrick will eventually talk, so he needs to get out in front of this too,” the CIA director says.
“That means we need to tell the public everything, everything the FBI has on Myers, and remember the way he acted in Miami, like he knew beforehand about everything that happened. That helps us make our point. What are we going to say when they ask us about Kearns and his supposed new legs?” Senator Fields asks.
“That’s a problem. I don’t know, but it doesn’t change anything. What we saw in the FBI director’s office is undeniable.”
“That’s our trump card. We can clearly show that Myers was an agent for a foreign power, that he was a mole for the Chinese government.”
“That’s not so clear at all. We can’t make that assertion. We can only suggest it.”
“We better be careful explaining that. The country loves him, now more than ever.”
“You’re right, we can’t use inflammatory language. It’s likely to blow back on us.”
“It won’t. We’ll make sure of that. We need to be very respectful in what we say about our ‘dear’ President Myers.”
“There’s one more thing, Paul.”
“What’s that?”
“What do we say when they ask if there’s any connection between the FBI investigation of Myers, and his killing?”
“Just say, as far as we can tell, there is no connection. From what we know so far, Todd Keniston acted alone. He
just got divorced from his wife. He, uh, may have had post-traumatic stress disorder. Anti-government literature was found at his residence. Remember, if anyone asks you about why he was killed, just say he resisted arrest. He didn’t give authorities any choice. He was an extremist. He wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. The investigation is still ongoing. This kind of thing.”
“I understand.”
“I’m telling you these things now, Senator Fields, because when this news conference begins we need to be in sync with each other. We’re going to get peppered with questions. We need to get it right the first time.”
“We will.”
“That means no inconsistencies in what we say. Remember, it’s not only what we say. It’s how we say it. We have to sound regretful and bereaved, just like the rest of the nation.”
“I understand.”
“Are we ready?”
“Yes.”
“If not, we can delay this news conference until we have it straight, so if you can think of any detail that we haven’t covered let’s talk about it now before we get in there.”
“I can’t think of anything. We’ll be fine, Paul.”
“Okay, then, are you ready?”
“Let’s do it.”
With this, the two men get out of their car and begin walking the short distance to enter the FBI building. A swarm of reporters and media crews are outside preparing to cover the news conference, and start questioning the two men as they approach, but get no response as they make their way through the entrance. Paul Stuart and Jack Fields then pass through the clamoring murmur of news people preparing to cover the event, and suddenly realize the risk they are taking. Any misstep or inconsistency in their speech could potentially unravel their conspiracy. After entering the briefing room, they quickly move to their reserved seats beside the lectern. They are greeted by FBI Director Frank Slaughter who is standing beside an aide who will soon start the news conference. After the men greet, and shake hands, Director Slaughter signals his aide to begin.
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