“For what?” asks Chris.
“Come, let’s go into my office. No one on the floor here knows the purpose of their work, but it’s time to let some friends in on it.”
Robert slides a card through a scanner, then does a palm and a retina scan. The doors open, and they enter his office. It’s not really an office so much as another steel room, windowless with no decorations. It could easily be confused with a jail cell, except in the back is a black metallic sphere, perhaps with a twenty-five-foot diameter. There are wires coming out of it, attached to what appeared to be a giant mainframe and several large computer monitors. Robert is sure Mark and Chris will recognize some of the programs from the space communications systems the company sells, but the language on the screen will be unrecognizable. It appears to also be tracking other communications with red dots percolating in several regions. On a table lie notes with “BEIJING” and “WASHINGTON” written in block letters across the top.
“Take a seat, we may be here awhile.” Robert gestures towards three folding chairs. Luxury is in short supply down here. The three men settle into their chairs.
“So, I bet you’re wondering why I’m building an Air Force. Well, it’s not quite that, but we’ll get there. Just remember, more than anything else, I need you to trust me right now. I need your trust.” With a reassuring nod from his two true friends on this planet, Robert resumes: “Let’s start at the beginning—actually more from the middle. You see, I’m not exactly from Wyoming…”
Chapter 4
The White House
March 30, 2029
President Nick Neverian is nearing the end of his first hundred days in office. The first hundred days are critical to setting the stage for the success or failure of a Presidency, as they often prove to be among the most productive. Having won a surprisingly large victory in 2028, Neverian has continued to build upon his popularity, sporting an over 70 percent approval rating among the American people who have rallied behind his anti-corruption message.
His Attorney General, Brian Braddock, has been leading this effort. A stout man of five foot ten inches, he is relentless and pugnacious. He spent much of his career in business, ascending to the top of one of the world’s largest food and beverage companies. Just over three years ago, Robert Wilson took over Braddock’s company in an ugly affair that culminated in Braddock’s ousting. There was no love lost between the two men. It was clear to the world why Braddock had been given the Attorney General job.
Neverian had given Braddock broad discretion to oversee probes into Corporate America, and Braddock, in just three months, had certainly uncovered significant wrongdoing. Nearly every large government contractor, particularly those in the defense sector, was found to have grown a bit lackadaisical in their accounting, and it seemed like every error cost taxpayers more and goosed the bottom line. Thus far, he had reached settlements with dozens of companies, netting the government over $40 billion and the Neverian Administration more goodwill from the American public.
Arbor Ridge was the one company whose billing practices were found to be entirely accurate, with not one penny of cost wrongly attributed to a government contract. While the details of Project Ridley remained a mystery to them, it was increasingly clear that none of its cost had been misappropriated. And so was the great irony. Neverian’s quest to undermine Robert had instead boosted him in the public’s eye further, as one of the few truly honest business titans. Robert further capitalized on this by making the popular virtual reality game Galactic Flyer: Invasion free the very day Braddock was confirmed as Attorney General (a shrewd marketing gambit from Mark). At the same time, his Administration’s successes uncovering fraud elsewhere boosted his own popularity, making both men’s popularity rise in tandem. The symbiotic relationship between the two men that began when Neverian was a minor congressman, backing Robert’s startup ventures for defense contracts seemed to be continuing, even if their intentions had apparently diverged.
This is a source of great exasperation to the President, who is currently staring out the window of the Oval Office. Braddock is seated in a chair in front of a massive oak desk, trying to explain away the unproductive nature of the Arbor Ridge probe with his successes in other matters, though both men knew the outcome was unsatisfactory. The magnitude of the office and the tasks that he faces has begun to weigh on Neverian, who at forty-one is ten years elder to Robert. His perfectly coiffed blonde hair is showing more than a few grays, though he remains militant in his exercise regime. With a chiseled jawline, strong smile, not to mention his loving wife and three young children, Hollywood producers couldn’t have cast a more perfect First Family to reside in the White House.
While Braddock had been focusing on corporate corruption, Neverian has been devoting his time to international relations, in particular forging closer ties with the People’s Republic of China. His shuttle diplomacy, including two trips to Beijing to meet with President Li Macous, and once hosting Li in Washington D.C., had proven fruitful.
Like Neverian, Li was a fast riser. He had assumed control of the Party six years prior as a forty-four-year-old. He had developed a reputation as a reformer in the Western provinces, modernizing rural parts of the nation that had been left behind during the nation’s economic boom. The son of a farmer, he leveraged his emotional connection with less politically active working people into tremendous political power. As President these six years, he had been steadily consolidating control with a booming economy buoying high personal favorability. He is entering his second term with few serious domestic political rivals. Unlike Neverian, he did not cut as idyllic a picture on the world stage for he was bespectacled, balding, and portly.
In early March, Li and Neverian had announced an agreement to reduce nuclear weapons and military spending with a formal signing to be held in two weeks. Even with these apparent successes, Neverian looks troubled as he stares out across the South Lawn, tuning out Braddock’s protestations.
Finally, he turns and sits behind his desk. “Brian, enough. We were running against the clock, and we’ve lost. Time isn’t on our side. The activity behind Jupiter continues to accelerate; it’s all the Joint Chiefs are focused on. I’ve got another briefing in the Situation Room in a few minutes to go over the latest development.”
“So are the rumors true, Mister President? About contact?” Braddock asks.
“Cut the crap. You know as well as I what is coming. Our agenda is over; the crisis is coming. Fortunately, I’ve made inroads with world leaders, and hopefully I’ll have their buy-in. Let’s just hope he’s on our side. I’m not sure anymore.”
Braddock nods along; both men know the “he” to be Robert Wilson, but some things are best left unsaid. “What about the Vice President? How involved is she?”
Running alongside Neverian in the Presidential campaign was the Governor of Minnesota, Victoria Larom. Larom was chosen due to her reputation for competent leadership, not to mention Neverian’s goal of winning states in the Upper Midwest. The fact she would be the first female Vice President provided a tantalizing historical allure that Neverian couldn’t pass up. Once in office, he relegated Larom to mostly ceremonial duties and sought little input from her on his key agenda items. Their relationship was cordial at best.
“No, I’ve kept her out of it. She’s been a good soldier; who knows for sure if we’d be sitting here without her, though I think we would. And I’ll ensure she is rewarded for that, but we can’t have more wildcards at a time like this. One is enough.”
Several hours later, Neverian is in the Situation Room, being briefed on what may have seemed like fantasy just a few decades prior. Any day now, the public will be made aware of a fact that would change Planet Earth forever.
Chapter 5
The Sky Above Earth
April 2, 2029
It’s 2:59 PM in Jersey City, and Robert Wilson has just returned to his office from his personal elevator. He’s
been preparing most of his life for this very moment, but the last three hours have been draining: emotionally, mentally, and physically. Mark Morrison and Chris Bailey are with him. They’ve had far fewer months to prepare for this inevitability, and frankly, even though they’d been told to expect it, this moment is as surreal for them as for the other seven billion people on the planet. And now like everyone else, they sit and turn their television on because just hours before….
It’s a beautiful day in Midtown Manhattan. The weather is unseasonably warm, pushing above seventy degrees. The trees are nearing bloom, the sky is bright blue, and there’s just enough of a breeze to keep the air fresh. It’s lunchtime, and it’s the sort of day where everyone goes outside to grab lunch, just to enjoy a few minutes of fresh air before resuming the workday.
Outside the United Nations overlooking the East River, streets are abuzz with locals and workers enjoying the sun. Representatives from all around the world congregate in the tall glass structure, a key landmark of Midtown East. As with business people and residents, many officials are out walking, enjoying a beautiful day, oblivious as to what’s about to transpire.
Church bells ring to signify 12:00, high noon, in the capital of the world. Suddenly, a darkness falls across several streets out of nowhere. Some look up to see if there’s a single cloud in the sky that has blocked out the sun. Instead, there are looks of befuddlement, screams of panic, until all of Manhattan grinds to a halt as everyone looks to the sky above.
Perfectly situated between the UN building and sun, casting a long shadow across this symbol of the international world, is a spacecraft of some sort. It resembles a flying oil tanker. Even though the science is foreign to everyone on the ground, the hulking structure clearly looks like a transport vehicle of some sort. Up in the sky, it’s impossible to judge its size, but it seems massive, larger by an order of magnitude than any flying machine man is known to produce. The oblong white body is set atop two red semi-spheres. Perhaps these helped to power the great ship?
Within minutes, images of the spacecraft hovering over Manhattan are being broadcast over every channel from Paris to Tokyo to Los Angeles. At first, some can’t help but wonder if this is the mother of all April Fools’ jokes. But that hope is dashed as governments closed financial markets and schools, urging everyone to return home in an orderly fashion.
Back in Washington D.C., President Neverian is taken into a secure bunker underneath the White House. The room is filled with a frenetic panic with generals, advisors, and staffers holding phone calls, gathering info, and making contingency plans. All major world leaders agree they will address their respective nations at 3:00 PM Eastern time, coordinating information so as to ensure a smooth conveying of knowledge to the world’s seven billion people. It’s 1:30 PM already, and the alien spacecraft continues to hover over Manhattan. The U.S. Air Force has begun reconnaissance flights, keeping enough distance so as not to inadvertently cause hostilities. They estimate the ship remains about 150 miles above the Earth’s surface. Given its size in the sky, it’s likely at least two miles long and half a mile wide. No one knows what’s inside, but it could hold tens of thousands of soldiers.
Throughout the last ninety minutes, Neverian has been a source of stability for his government as well as his global counterparts, never raising his voice or projecting anything other than calm, deliberate steadiness. Given the activity behind Jupiter, military officials and political leaders have been gaming out scenarios. Thus far, the alien ship has not made its intentions known to the world, but as Neverian counsels, the very fact they have waited ninety minutes without making a move is encouraging. They had an opportunity to attack when the planet was entirely defenseless; instead, they permitted time for militaries to scramble and nations coordinate. Perhaps resistance would be futile, but the longer they wait, the greater the hope of peaceful intentions, or so Neverian advised.
For the past forty-five minutes, the Pentagon—working with the militaries and intelligence agencies of other nations—has been pinging the ship across every known frequency, trying to communicate across multiple languages and through arithmetic puzzles, but it has been to no avail. The radio silence from the craft is convincing the world’s intelligence agencies that the ship wanted to wait for the Earth’s leaders to speak first, gauging the official response, before conveying their own message. This made it of the utmost importance for all world leaders to offer the same message to their people. Seeing the wisdom of this approach, Neverian walked into a video conference room with fellow leaders to draft a joint statement that each leader would read to their own nation in their own native tongue.
It’s 2:15 PM in Jersey City. Robert, Mark, and Chris are perhaps the only individuals on the planet worried more about what’s happening below ground than what’s hovering over it. Two hours earlier from his office overlooking Manhattan, Robert saw the ship arrive. He immediately telephoned his two friends to come to his office. Within minutes, they were back in Robert’s subterranean office. Robert was videoconferencing the managers of each tower’s Project Ridley production facility. The Jersey City facility had completed its final plane last week. In storage, there were now seven floors of planes, 108 per floor, or 756 planes. In recent days, each other factory completed its allotment, essentially on schedule for a fleet of roughly 10,000, more than the entire U.S. Air Force.
But Robert knows this already. Today’s call focuses on phase two of his production plan. Robert knows the next two weeks will be crazy and potentially dangerous, and getting to the other side is critical to achieve victory. The men and women at these factories have developed unparalleled expertise in building these aircrafts, but Robert fears substantially more will be necessary. And so, he has converted the production floor of these facilities into tent cities for workers and their immediate families to live.
Doing this is highly contentious. Mark objects that bringing families would endanger the secrecy of the project while Chris fears that these select employees are being treated better than Arbor Ridge’s other employees. Ultimately, they acquiesce. Each factory employs about 1,000 workers with 1,500 family members also present. Space is cramped, though they can utilize the railway tunnels, as the shuttling of production materials has been completed and the tunnels closed.
The next debate is whether to alert the workers as to what exactly was going on. For morale, it’s agreed something should be said. All concurred to keep televisions on, and as anywhere else, workers and their families are gathering around TVs to get a glimpse of the ship. However, Robert deems it important to offer a few words himself as they’d undoubtedly question their connection to this. At the least, it would be a good test for what was to come, he felt. And so using the closed loop system, he speaks to his employees from a folding chair in his signature white t-shirt, black jacket, lapel pin, and dark jeans. While he looks calm, the bags under his eyes betray his lack of sleep over the past week.
“Good afternoon to you, my colleagues, and to your families. I am glad you are all safe. You did not know this, but your factory was one of fifteen. Twelve under each of our towers, and three smaller ones in separate locations.” He speaks in a reassuring way, as if he was talking right to each person watching, alone at their fireside.
“As you are seeing, an alien ship has arrived on Earth. There have been signs this day was coming for some time now. That’s what Project Ridley was all about—preparing us for this moment. I know the next few days being cooped up in these factories will be difficult. But keep your spirits up. What you have done is critical to ensuring we rise to the occasion and remain secure. I am deeply proud of what you have done, and I know that your families are as well. We will speak again soon.”
Robert checks his watch—it’s getting near 3:00 PM, and he needs to get upstairs to hear what the President has to say, as well as prepare communications for the rest of Arbor Ridge’s employees. As he, Mark, and Chris walk past what was once the produc
tion floor and is now a tent city, there’s a deafening ovation. The roar energizes Robert, and those bags under his eyes melt away. With a boost to his step, Mark and Chris can barely keep pace as they near the elevator.
At 3:00 PM in Washington D.C., President Neverian is sitting behind his desk in the Oval Office, looking across at a dozen cameras. His remarks will be brief—he doesn’t love that. But they still haven’t heard anything from the ship, so there really isn’t much to say. Getting a single text to which all leaders could agree proved to be difficult, but Neverian leveraged his close relationship to get Chinese President Li on board, and soon other leaders had stepped into line. Neverian is wearing a navy-blue suit, crisp white shirt, and deep-red tie. This is among the most momentous times in history, and he wanted to be sure he looked the part. He takes a deep breath, and when the camera light flips red, signaling he is speaking to the nation, he begins.
“My fellow Americans, today, April second, 2020 is a day for the ages. We have apparent confirmation of intelligent life outside Earth. I have been in consultation with leaders across the world, and we have agreed to speak with one voice, for this is a moment that transcends national boundary.
“At noon today, a spaceship entered the upper atmosphere and has hovered over Midtown Manhattan, specifically the United Nations building. We take this to mean that whoever is in that spacecraft is familiar with our planet and wants to interact with us on a global basis. We are prepared to do that. We have attempted contact repeatedly but have heard nothing. We wish to be clear that above all else humanity seeks peace for itself and in its relations with others. Out of an abundance of caution, military alerts have been raised, but we aim to make no provocative actions.
Robert Wilson and the Invasion from Within Page 3
