Robert Wilson and the Invasion from Within

by Scott Ruesterholz

  Major cities are now half-empty as much of the population has moved out to more rural areas. Shorelines are filled with anti-aircraft artillery, tanks and trucks are being housed near major cities in the event there is an attempted landing and it goes from an aerial to a ground conflict. In addition to the active military and reserve forces, recent veterans have been brought back, and local police forces are being used as supplementary forces. Over seventy million people are now serving in a military role; this is about double the number from three months ago. Robert hopes that few of these people actually see action.

  Over the past ten days, there has been active debate and study around the military plan. It has been agreed that the majority of the fighting should occur outside the force field. Periodically, they can turn off pieces of the force field for SF-01s to get a few dozen small and medium sized crafts inside the force field. The traditional human forces would destroy these planes as they entered lower altitudes. As long as the count of planes inside the force field numbered in the dozens and not hundreds, conventional forces should be able to handle them given the overwhelming numerical advantage. This activity would be moderated or increased based on the success rate, and it has been widely agreed that under no circumstance would a destroyer be allowed to enter the force field.

  There has been some debate about the initial launch of the SF-01s into space. There will be nearly thirty minutes for the enemy to prepare to attack them as they exit the force field—the most dangerous part of the mission. Robert has strongly argued that they need to get as many planes out at the same time as possible to avoid a slaughter once in space, but there is a worry that the entire fleet could be wiped out, which argues for a more incremental approach. Behind the scenes, a group of nations has been working to build opposition to Robert’s plan, and he is unaware just how much opposition there is.

  Robert has committed to a strike date between June 9 and 16. They have now passed the 60,000-plane threshold, so they have been ready to go for three days now. There has been little military movement in space, other than the steady increase in sunsheet covering—now about 20 percent of the planet—and global temperatures have begun to dip the past few days. World leaders are beginning to get antsy, wondering when Robert will hold consultations to begin the strike. Since June 8, Robert has been spending more of his time looking at satellite imagery, what for, he hasn’t said, but it has something to do with his decision not to begin the attack.

  It is 11:00 AM on June 13 in Jersey City. Robert is sitting in his office, studying battle plans one more time. He hasn’t left this building in eleven days, and he’s feeling a bit ragged, hair unkempt, and a few days since he last shaved. There is a knock at his door.

  “What is it?”

  A young aide opens the door, sticks her head in and says, “There’s unusual activity when you have a minute, sir.” She then closes it.

  Robert looks up, intrigued. Every day at around noon and again at midnight he asks for a rundown on the situation at each of the fifteen force field sites, including whether or not anything unusual has been reported. But, over the past eleven days, everything has been normal, consistently to his disappointment. He immediately jumps out of his chair, runs to the door, but stops himself before opening it, taking a breath to collect himself, opens it and calmly walks into the command center.

  “What is it?” Robert asks to the entire room.

  “Something unusual, take a look for yourself,” Jake Thornhill replies, pointing up to the screen. “That’s our force field projector in the South Atlantic.”

  Up on the screen are cameras from various angles on the decks of the supposed Arbor Ridge research facility, which like the Indian Ocean facility has been housing SF-01s as part of Project Ridley. It is a beautiful day, but the seas appear rather rough, that or there are some objects in the water, but the cameras aren’t focused in enough.

  “Is something in the water?” Robert asks.

  “Zoom in,” Thornhill tells the front row.

  As the cameras focus in on the water, the picture becomes clearer. There are hundreds, probably thousands of sharks of all species and sizes circling the facility.

  Thornhill notices that Robert doesn’t seem surprised, instead he has an amused smile. He continues, “This has been going on for thirty minutes. Hundreds of sharks swimming in an orderly fashion. No attacks, no feeding frenzy, just making their presence known. We’ve been talking to the top marine scientists, and none have ever seen anything like it. The crew of the facility are nervous.”

  “Tell them not to worry,” Robert says, mind elsewhere, as he continues to stare up at the screen. After a few more moments soaking in the visual, he turns to Thornhill, “We need to get the military representatives assembled. We strike today.”

  “Yes, sir. I will set a call for 11:30.”

  “Perfect.”

  It is now 11:30, and Robert has used the last twenty minutes to freshen up, shave, put on a suit with a dark blue tie, and his lapel pin. He is sitting in his office in front of his monitors as the supervisory video conference with the several dozen military representatives who can participate in but ultimately do not decide on PEACE matters is about to begin. At the start of the call, Robert defers to Thornhill to run through the situation up in space, technical details of the military plan, and so forth. Robert notices while Thornhill is speaking that several of the European military officials, from France, Italy, Spain, Belgium, Germany, Sweden, and a few other nations, are moving their lips without any sound coming out. It would seem they’ve placed themselves on mute and have engaged in their own sub-meeting to reach a European consensus.

  About twenty minutes into the meeting, with the technical briefing ended and a question and answer session underway, the French Air Force chief speaks up. “All of our models suggest this is a suicide mission. Based on the limited knowledge of their technical capabilities and the number of forces, we’re likely to get wiped out. Computer simulations show less than a five percent chance of victory. That’s why I think a gradual strike is more prudent than sending every ship up at once as you propose.”

  Robert sits forward in his chair, entirely unperturbed, having expected this question to arise at some point. “I’d expect no less from the computers, but we don’t fight battles via models.”

  “Maybe not,” the general blusters, “but we can’t launch a sixty-thousand-man suicide mission on your hunch.”

  “No, of course not,” Robert calmly counters, “but your computers miss one thing, the most critical element of my entire strategy.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “The human element.”

  “Please, we’re too experienced and battle-hardened to be swayed by your rah-rah spirit, Commander Wilson, give us more credit than that,” the general says, his face growing red with agitation. Several of his fellow European leaders are also now nodding their heads visibly in agreement.

  “You misunderstand me, General. I’m not waving the flag; I firmly believe in the power of the human element, and I am prepared to wager the future of this planet and this species on it. Why, you ask? I’ll tell you.” Invigorated with passion, Robert jumps out of his chair, knuckles pressed to the table, as he continues. “My whole career, making military equipment, I’ve wanted them to be human-operated. Why? Well, with the brainpower we possess, let alone Frozos, we can develop a computer model that will make every rational move. In that game, the better equipped military will win, nearly every time. That’s what your computer simulation is capturing because it can’t know what irrational decision or gut-feeling each pilot will have.

  “Now when you have the strongest force, that human element can be suboptimal. But when you’re the underdog, it’s the human element that provides your chance for victory. We have nurtured this element and built our forces around it. When I recruited players from Galactic Flyer, we didn’t just pick the highest scorers beca
use we fight in squadrons. I needed flyers who would reflexively, without even realizing it, make the same decision. Each individual was chosen because his or her activity in the game unveiled a trend, and we needed that skill set to complete a team. We train as teams, not individuals, because a good organization is greater than the sum of its parts.

  “So we have squadrons with character, those that are ‘irrationally’ cautious, those that are bold, those that turn right too often or left too often. Left to their own devices, each irrational decision can result in chaos, but we are trying to capitalize and harness the human element in a coordinating fashion to create a symphony, not of music, but of war. We are built to thrive off of the unexpected, and today, I assure you, we and Frozos will face the unexpected.

  “That, sir, your model did not account for. More importantly, that Frozos’s computer-assisted flyers will not account for. And that, sir, is why, today, we shall prevail.” With that rhetorical triumph, Robert sits back down.

  The chastened French representative sits silently.

  After a bit of uncomfortable quiet, the Taiwanese representative says, “I think you will find agreement from those of us here that you have a sound plan. You have our support. Good luck and Godspeed.”

  This is quickly followed by a chorus of well-wishes. The final battle is set to begin.

  It is now high noon over New York as Robert walks back into the command center where Thornhill has also returned to from his own office. “Okay, folks, this is it,” Robert says, “Operation Cooler King begins now. I expect all sixty-four thousand of our birds off the ground, and there will be a synchronized launch into space at exactly 1:00 PM. We do this right, and we’ll be having dinner tonight as a free and secure people.”

  This announcement starts a flurry of activity. Orders are being sent across all the PEACE and joint PEACE national military bases to begin to get planes in the air. Getting every plane off the runways is about a ten- to thirty-minute process, depending upon the size of the facility. The plan is for the last plane to be off the ground by 12:50 PM New York time, allowing for ten minutes of delay before the 1:00 PM launch. In many parts of the world, pilots are being awoken from their sleep by the sound of alarms. Everywhere, pilots are dressing for combat, getting in a final meal, or saying a prayer.

  Meanwhile, PEACE is also making contact with the leadership of each national military as to the 1:00 PM start time. Given most nations of the world were on the call, this should be no surprise. National militaries will be using the final hour to enter a state of battle readiness. Thornhill’s command center will be the critical conduit between PEACE and national militaries with a hotline established. Coordination is critical to ensure no city is overwhelmed by enemy forces as PEACE turns the force field on and off. As of now, the force field will open for twenty seconds at 1:23 PM New York time globally. This should provide enough time for the fleet to get out without letting many ships in. The hope is to keep it closed for at least fifteen minutes to let the battle develop and then begin to use it like a release valve, relieving pressure on SF-01 forces where needed.

  As this is going on in the command center, Robert has arranged for a crew to take down the outer wall of Robert’s office, and are now moving the black spherical ship out of the room and to the entrance of one of the underground railway tunnels. He hasn’t disclosed his reasoning with anyone but needs a backup plan should the battle not go as hoped.

  It is now 12:40 PM—twenty minutes to launch. The exit from the force field is the most dangerous moment of this entire mission. There is simply no way to keep the attack secret. With seven transport destroyers, armed with heavy guns, and carrying thousands of drone attack vessels each, as well as hundreds of small manned-crafts, Tiberius will undoubtedly detect the launch and deploy resources to any and all parts of the globe to push off the attackers.

  If they survive the first two minutes, Robert thinks they can win, but Thornhill is unconvinced that launching everyone at once is a worthy gamble.

  “Twenty minutes to launch, sir,” he says to Robert, “we still can adjust plans.”

  “No, Jake, it’s full steam ahead. At one o’clock, I am going to broadcast to the world the commencement of the attack,” Robert replies, matter of fact.

  “But sir, that will tip off the enemy.”

  “I know. Trust me, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  Thornhill walks right up to Robert. “Robert, I’m entitled to know before I send sixty-four thousand men and women out, possibly to their deaths.”

  “You are,” Robert concedes. “Quick, let’s go into your office.”

  A few minutes later, Thornhill walks back into the command center, satisfied. “Tell all pilots, the 1:00 PM launch is a go.” Up on the screen, Thornhill can monitor events from satellite feeds, pilot cameras, and views of major cities. The command center staff has been assigned portions of this to monitor to bring trouble spots to Thornhill and Robert’s attention.

  As the command center makes last minute preparations, Robert ascends to the Arbor Ridge lobby where a lectern has been set up in the same spot as his remarks eleven days ago. Exactly at 1:00 PM as the PEACE fleet launches, Robert cuts into all regularly scheduled programming across all television stations.

  “Good afternoon. I am speaking to you today to let you know that the battle for Earth has begun. As I speak, sixty-four thousand brave souls are launching into space to eliminate the enemy threat and preserve our way of life. Please stay calm and at home to allow PEACE forces and national militaries to act as needed. We are a wonderfully large and diverse planet filled with people of many creeds, beliefs, and religions. I ask those so inclined to join me in a moment of prayer.”

  Robert bows his head before continuing.

  “Dear Father, today our planet is acting as one to ensure that freedom, equality, and liberty will be preserved. Thousands of your flock are running toward conflict to protect their loved ones, their neighbor, and their fellow man while millions more are manning our defenses to do the same. Please look over them, protect them, and guide them so that their motive and weapons are true.

  “If our cause be just, as I believe it to be, aid us in our hour of great need, so that tomorrow we can begin life anew with our faith in you and ourselves replenished. Provide for us today with the courage, strength, and friendship to prevail. And please accept with open arms those of us who make the ultimate sacrifice to protect the sanctity of our world.

  “Amen.”

  Televisions turn back to their regular programming. Robert looks up from the lectern, and he leaves the Arbor Ridge lobby to head back into the command center. By the time he gets there, it is 1:07 PM.

  Before he can even ask the question, Thornhill says, “The launch has gone smoothly. We’re a third of the way up. The destroyer groups are now pushing in. Six destroyers themselves are within a thousand miles of the force field, and one remains pinned to the moon, where we aren’t launching from as of now. Smaller crafts have moved within two hundred miles of the force field. Frozos’s ship remains well back from the rest. I just hope you’re right.”

  “So do I, so do I…Is—”

  “Yes,” Thornhill interrupts. “The unusual activity has continued.”

  Chapter 27

  Jersey City

  June 13, 2029

  At 1:22 PM, the fleet of 64,000 SF-01s begins to reach the edge of the force field. In front of them, hundreds of ships can be seen across the horizon, an intimidating display of force. From his place in the command center, Robert just hopes that none lose their nerve and do indeed fly out as ordered.

  At 1:22:50, there is a burst of light that consumes the entire planet, blinding everyone for several seconds, wearing off just as the force field opens. As pilots regain their vision and fly out, they are greeted by the sudden appearance of at least 20,000 ships, firing at Tiberius’s army from behind, providing just enough cover for t
he SF-01s to get out into space, largely unharmed, and for the force field to close back down before any enemy ships are able to enter.

  The crowd in the command center cheers as they see these new ships arrive. Someone shouts out, “63,857 SF-01s are operational. No enemy ships inside. Cooler King has launched successfully!”

  Robert raises his right hand triumphantly. He always believed, unshakably, that a rebel cause against Frozos really did exist. His mother and father were associated with it many years ago, and today, he is partnering with it. He bet the entire planet’s existence that they would arrive to help. The demonstration of sharks today convinced him. He always was fascinated with a “King Hammerhead” after all; what greater sign could be given? That’s what convinced him to give the speech at 1:00 PM. He wanted to give the timeline to the resistance because he was certain that they would be listening. Now, he can only watch and hope that the combined forces are enough.

  He is watching as the nearly 64,000 SF-01s and 20,000 to 25,000 rebel ships of all shapes and sizes engage in combat. Suddenly, the satellite cameras show the emergence of two gigantic ships, about 20 percent larger than the transport destroyers. They are a dark blue, almost blending in to the night sky. Their appearance leads to another roar of applause in the command center. Mark Morrison and Chris Bailey have just walked in and are watching in amazement as another alien force appears to be helping Earth. Mankind has gone from thinking it was alone in the universe three months ago to having alien allies in an apparent intergalactic war.

  On the other side of the planet, above Tokyo where it’s well past nightfall, the sky is lighting up from the heavy fire occurring up above. Residents in Asia are looking to the night sky wondering what is occurring. A government blackout has turned off all livestreams from the various space stations, lunar bases, and satellites. Families are gathering together, hoping for the best. Residents in Europe, Africa, and the Americas are noticing that the day is getting brighter as sunsheets are destroyed in the battle. While none of the SF-01s are targeting them, it is inevitable that stray laser fire would hit and damage the fiber networks. Television news stations have little to report from space, instead bouncing among live shots of major cities where Navies and Air Forces have been deployed but no enemy ships sighted.