The Peace Proxy: Part 1

by Cyril Adams

  Garrett wondered what he must have thought at that moment. In the face of this new threat, many of the issues the Secretary had addressed in the past must now seem frivolous. He was telling billions they were no longer the center of the universe. Did he understand there would be riots?

  The moment passed, and when he spoke, his voice carried the conviction of his younger self. “They are preparing to invade Earth. I tell you this not to instill fear or panic, but purpose, the purpose that will be required to defeat this threat. For almost a decade, nations have been preparing for this contingency. A plan is in place to offer us, the human race, the best possible chance of survival. We are a tough, intelligent, tenacious species, and we will not forfeit our future generations without a fight. The success of this plan depends on you. When I say you, I am addressing each individual watching this broadcast. We must put aside our petty differences and unite in one cause. We must unite to ensure our civilization does not perish. All the countries represented here today have unanimously agreed to work together in every way necessary to build a defense capable of withstanding this tremendous foe.

  “We do know their planet was similar to ours, and they are likely a carbon-based life form. We have also determined their sun has become unstable. Our last observations detected a large fleet of spacecraft departing their solar system. We believe this armada contains their entire civilization and is bound for Earth. Scientists have determined it will take ninety-eight years until the invaders reach our solar system.

  “No questions today. There will be another press conference in three days to disclose the details of our plan for Earth’s defense.” The Secretary gave the camera a reassuring nod as he left the podium.

  Garrett rotated the holograph to bring the next article into view. It was a two-dimensional news story. A newscaster began speaking as the holograph stabilized. “Today, eleven countries seceded from the recently formed United Federation of Nations. The renegade countries have created a new alliance. They plan to negotiate ‘terms of cohabitation’ with the aliens…”

  “What’s this?” Garrett asked. As he turned his head from the holograph, the computer automatically halted the playback.

  “The Unification Wars,” Charlie replied with a wry smile, knowing his response did not answer Garrett’s question.

  “Oh, really,” Garrett replied coyly, “and why are you watching it?”

  “It was the last time the Federation was publicly challenged. The war polarized the issue of a unified Earth. After it was over, the Federation had gained legitimacy, and, more importantly, military power which translated to control.”

  “I’ve heard some officials facilitated the war to bolster the newly formed coalition.” Garrett filled in, understanding where Charlie was headed with this line of reasoning. Charlie could tell by Garrett’s response he did not subscribe to the conspiracy theory.

  “Okay, I think the conspiracy theory is crap, but the ARC was founded in conjunction with the Federation. Its autonomy rests with the Federation’s power base,” Charlie conceded.

  “So you’re looking into the development of the Federation to determine how the ARC operates?”

  “Something like that. I’m going to make a few inquiries about your source.” Charlie finished, as he left the room.

  Garrett nodded as he turned back to the holograph. As he faced the image, the newscaster began speaking again, returning to the beginning of the last sentence. “They plan to negotiate ‘terms of cohabitation’ with the aliens.” The view shifted from the newscaster to a small screen above her right shoulder. The display enlarged as she continued to speak. “The countries have seized all foreign military assets residing within their borders.” The holograph showed a file video of an old petroleum-fueled, jet-propelled aircraft taking off from a military base. Garrett marveled at the crude vehicle as it began its takeoff run. Its four disproportionately large engines, attached to long, thin wings, almost scraped the ground as the aircraft moved down the runway. He wondered what it must have been like to fly in such a precarious machine.

  The newscaster continued her commentary. “The President is en route to Geneva, where an emergency session of the United Federation of Nations is convening. The Federation faces its first crisis.”

  Garrett leaned back, reflecting on how he felt about those uncertain times as he watched the events that led to the Unification Wars. He was too young to remember any detail. His only recollection of the time was a feeling of anxiety followed by confusion. The war swept past him quickly, taking his father with it. His memories of his father were similar in their lack of detail; just a warm, safe feeling accompanied by a single image of his father’s face. From the angle of the image, his father must have been holding him above his head or perhaps throwing him into the air. He was looking up at Garrett, his laughing countenance frozen in the still image. The sun illuminated his face and Garrett could see light sparkling through beads of dew in the grass visible over his father’s shoulder.

  A tone in Garrett’s earpiece, indicating an incoming communication, brought him back to the present. The image on the comband screen confirmed the call was from Katherine. Garrett extended his fingers to flatten his hand. His comband projected a video of Katherine’s face across his open palm.

  “Hi, how’s the security breach?”

  Katherine’s response was terse, “Fine.” Garrett could tell immediately that something was wrong. “Let’s meet for lunch,” she continued. “How’s Victoria's at noon?”

  “Sure,” Garrett replied reflexively. Checking the time, he was surprised to see it was already eleven.

  “Okay, I’ll see you there.” She closed the connection before Garrett could reply. The strained exchange unsettled Garret. No matter what the crisis, Katherine was always poised, but now her distress was obvious. She either could not hide it or did not care to. He vaguely considered the possibility the information Mike intended to provide and the security breach that required Katherine’s attention were connected but dismissed the notion as far too outlandish.

  As Garrett turned his attention back to the holograph, Charlie came back into the room and announced, “I have some information on Talbot.”

  “Go on,” Garrett encouraged.

  “He worked as a programmer for Global Information Corporation, standard computer science degree, nothing spectacular really. The possibility of him coming up with this type of information doesn’t look too solid to me.”

  Garrett was silent for a moment as he tried to sort out the link between Talbot and Mike’s professed conspiracy. He could not.

  “Well, Mike seemed sure this was legit. He was concerned enough to reveal his identity to me. If you had seen him, you would agree.”

  “I’m not trying to rain on your parade here, Garrett. This story looks pretty thin, that’s all.” Charlie reluctantly continued, “Garrett, remember this guy set us up two years ago.”

  “I saw it on his face. It wasn’t him.”

  “I’m just saying we have to watch ourselves on this one. We’re running out of prospective employers in this town.”

  Garrett flashed his winning smile. “Come on Charlie, how bad could it be?” he replied as he checked the time. “Damn, I’m supposed to meet Katherine in D.C. I have to go. I’ll come back after lunch.”

  “Right, I’ll keep looking into Talbot.”

  Garrett took the subway. If he could catch the 11:30 A-Lev, he would not be late. He made it, but an air leak in the tube delayed its departure. He called Katherine to let her know.

  7

  A local favorite, Victoria’s restaurant was always Katherine’s first choice when dining out. They usually sat on the glass-enclosed veranda, but as Garrett approached, he did not see her at a table abutting the rail where she preferred to dine. He signaled the maître d’, who recognizing Garrett from previous visits, heartily welcomed him back. Garrett asked if Katherine was waiting for a table. The man informed Garrett she had already been seated and directed him to th
e second floor. Garrett found her sitting at a table in the back of the establishment, far distant from the open seating he knew she preferred. Last month, she had the two of them wait hours for a table with a view. He grimly accepted this was not a social lunch. As he approached, she gave him a nervous smile. He smiled in kind, trying to act nonchalant, despite the uneasy feeling that had found purchase deep in his psyche since he boarded the train.

  “I ordered for us,” she informed Garrett as he sat.

  “What’s going on?” he tentatively inquired.

  She hesitated for a moment, eyes looking around the room, judging if anyone was within earshot before saying, “Oh Garrett, they gave us an alpha scan.” The words quiet, but rushed, were accompanied by a grimace that betrayed the terror the experience had evoked.

  “What?” Garrett asked in disbelief, certain he had misunderstood her statement. The penalties for an illegal alpha scan, regardless of the organization, were severe. He had never heard of the procedure being conducted outside the judicial system. His initial shock subsided rapidly, and he reached across the table, taking her hand in his. She was trembling. Her gaze remained on the tablecloth as she fought to hold back the tears that threatened to burst forth. This was new territory in their relationship, and Garrett did not know how to react. He did the only reasonable thing he could manage. He overcame his fear-driven desire to know what had occurred and held her hand while she quietly fought to regain her composure. Eventually, she collected herself.

  She looked at Garrett. “I’m all right,” she assured Garrett, with a weak smile, answering the unspoken concern that was etched across his face.

  “Katherine, who gave you the scan?” Garrett questioned in a soothing tone.

  Katherine straightened in her seat, appearing more focused. “I don’t know. When I got to the office this morning…” she trailed off as the waiter arrived with their order. Garrett eased back into his chair as the waiter deftly placed two bowls of lobster bisque on the table. Garrett had not realized he had come out of his seat in an effort to comfort Katherine.

  “Is there anything else I can get for you?” the waiter inquired.

  “No, thank you,” Garrett replied. Katherine continued to stare at the newly delivered first course. The waiter stayed a moment longer than Garrett would have considered good manners before deciding Katherine was not going to respond. Garrett gave him a hard look, and he rapidly retreated. Garrett turned his attention back to Katherine.

  “Tell me everything,” he encouraged, again taking her hand across the table, but managing to stay seated in the process.

  Katherine started again, “When I got to the office, two men were guarding the entrance. They were casually dressed, but they were creepy, coolly detached. I guessed they were CIA or NSA, one of those freak show outfits. They let me in without a word. Greg and Rachel were in the reception area. Rachel was crying, and Greg was staring at the wall with a blank expression,” she looked at Garrett. Now Katherine was crying with no attempt to stop the tears. She continued vehemently, “They injured Greg’s brain, those bastards.” She stopped for a moment before proceeding, “When Rachel saw me she started to get up, but stopped after glancing at the corner of the room. She was frightened. I followed her gaze to a man standing silently next to Robert’s office. He stepped forward as he told me they had been waiting for me. The way he looked at me was…well, it scared me. He was so arrogant; absolutely no concern for invading the office of the Secretary as if it was no more than a menial clerk’s position; beneath him.”

  Garrett had not thought the word scared was part of Katherine’s lexicon. It disturbed him that the mere presence of a man could illicit such a response.

  Katherine continued, “That look, it was chilling, but I wasn’t going to let this thug push me around. I demanded to see the Secretary. He motioned to the Secretary’s office as he stepped closer. I took the lead, determined to show these guys who was really in charge. Robert was sitting at his desk. I’ve never seen him look so defeated.” She looked past Garrett for a moment, reliving those moments. “I asked him what was going on. He said he was sorry, but I was going to have to submit to some questions. I asked him for clarification, thinking of invoking some legal precedence. He just looked back to his desk and told me as soon as I was finished they would allow Greg to get medical attention. I didn’t even realize Greg was hurt.” She stopped, again trying to hold back the recently restrained tears. Garrett waited patiently.

  “It’s all right. Take your time,” he encouraged.

  She continued, “The man from the reception area told me to come with him. They had a scanner set up in my office. When I protested he calmly reminded me Greg’s life probably depended on my cooperation, so what could I do? I let them hook me up and answered their questions. The feeling of having that machine scan my thoughts...” She shivered as she recalled the experience.

  “What did they ask?” Garrett cautiously inquired.

  “Most of the questions concerned my computer security.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He wanted to know if I had ever allowed someone access to my account or tried to access areas not essential to my office. Was I loyal to the current administration? That kind of stuff. Some questions about our relationship.” She paused for a moment, appearing more composed for having talked through the ordeal. “They repeatedly asked about accessing ARC protocols.”

  Garrett became tense as the world swam around him, leaving a mild sense of vertigo. How was this possible? It was hard to believe the information Mike had for him was tied to Katherine’s office. Not that he held the government in particularly high esteem, but because he still could not reconcile such a chance occurrence. The uneasy feeling that had been nestled deep in the recesses of his mind began to force its way forward, and his stomach tightened in acknowledgment. His mind reeled as he struggled to bring the situation into a framework he could understand.

  “Garrett, are you listening to me?”

  “Sorry, what were you saying?”

  “I said Greg is at First Memorial. After lunch, I’m going to go see how he’s doing. Will you go with me?”

  A low tone from Garrett’s earpiece indicated he had an incoming call. Garrett checked the image on his comband. It was Charlie.

  “It’s Charlie. Katherine, let me get this.”

  Katherine did not attempt to mask her irritation at the interruption.

  “It’ll just take a second,” Garrett explained.

  “Fine,” she turned to her bisque, spooning the liquid defiantly.

  Content with the image on the comband, Garrett did not bother to expand the video. “What is it, Charlie,” he inquired, not pleased with the conflict.

  “Can you come back to the office after lunch? I have something for you.” Charlie’s reply was chipper, excited. Garrett knew it meant the skeptic had been silenced. Charlie must have found the connection between Talbot and the information Mike was pedaling.

  “I’ll have to get back to you. I’m in the middle of something.”

  “Don’t dally. It’s important.”

  “Okay,” Garrett replied. He looked up to find Katherine staring at him. He had never realized how cold those alluring eyes could seem with the proper motivation. Despite her apparent anger, she looked quite pretty actually, with her face generating a rosy flush that was increasing by the moment. He could tell from her calculating expression that the conversation was going to take a turn. Katherine did not do scared well, but angry, she could set a dragon into a whimper. He wondered briefly if the tablecloth was fireproof.

  “Charlie, huh?”

  “Yes,” Garrett replied flatly. The edge in her voice confirmed the time for comfort was over.

  “You went into the office this morning, didn’t you?” She had taken on a vicious tone. Displacing fear with anger was always an agreeable exchange. Anger put the wielder in control, which was generally preferred, but anger demands an object on which to focus, or it cools. Ga
rrett was fairly certain he was about to become that object.

  “On Sunday?” Katherine’s wrath was about to be unleashed. “You went to work on a Sunday?”

  “Yes, I have a job as well,” Garrett answered, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. He knew any hint of confrontation would just encourage conflict.

  “You only go in on Sunday if you’re working on a story. Were you investigating the security breach at my office?”

  “No, stop being irrational,” Garrett chided. He winced knowing his criticism would only hone her attack.

  “We agreed when we started dating neither of us would use the other’s professional position as an advantage. Didn’t we, Garrett?” The barrage was almost a physical affront. “You can’t stop being a reporter for a second, can you?”

  “Come on Katherine, you know me better than that,” Garrett pleaded.

  “I thought I did.” She stood to leave. Garrett considered trying to reason with her, but logic intervened, recognizing futility when it presented itself in a fashion so inherently obvious to the casual observer.

  “Well, that’s it then?” She asked rhetorically as she walked away. Garrett sat silently for a few moments, considering what “Well, that’s it then?” was supposed to mean. Although he had previously considered their relationship was coming to a crossroads where some serious decisions about their future would have to be made, he did not think this was that time. Katherine had been too emotional to stubbornly stand behind a breakup at this point. He would talk to her when she was more willing to listen. He looked at his bisque. On any other day, he could not resist the delectable concoction, but his appetite had left him. He called Charlie and told him he would be back in an hour.

  When Garrett returned, Charlie was in his office, still surrounded by holographs. “What have you got?” Garrett inquired as he entered. Charlie registered Garrett’s lack of enthusiasm.