"This ship hasn't attempted to contact Earth?"
"No. Not that I know of."
"But they've established a recruitment organization here. To reveal themselves would be to defeat their purpose. Their recruitment strategy rests on the religious illusion."
Jamie was speechless. Steven Jackson's words were like a series of thumps on her noggin, clarifying her thoughts with each blow. Zach and Kevin's taut faces implied they were having a similar reaction.
"What about Brian Loving? How did they recruit him?" Wait a minute. "Or is he one of them?"
"I considered that possibility," said Steven. "He and the other recruiters – present in every major country – could be aliens assuming human form, or perhaps are avatars or A.I.s, but after observing Brian Loving in person I am leaning toward the KISS hypothesis: the simplest and safest solution would be to select individuals with special appeal and abilities and a malleable psychology. That would avoid problems of discovery and human simulation."
"That doesn't sound all that simple to me," said Zach.
"Simplicity given this monumental undertaking. They require a relatively small number of effective recruiters. The more difficult challenge is the organizational structure – finances, group activities, command hierarchy, et cetera. That, of necessity, is hands-on. They are here, among us, performing those roles."
Jamie rubbed the back of her neck. Steven Jackson spoke as though explaining a mundane social studies lesson to third graders, which just made his statements that much more shocking.
"One aspect of this I find puzzling," said Steven. "An alien object arrives, giving us superpowers. Then an alien ship appears, and the religious recruiting program begins. The implied connection is obvious between the Object and the ship, but it seems illogical that the aliens would make people super- powered. How could that work to their advantage?"
Jamie exchanged another look with Zach and Kevin. It seemed pointless to her at this moment to not just tell him the whole truth. She nodded to Zach.
"The Object contained a warning and an explanation," said Zachary. "It showed the augmented powers being an antidote to a black ship-like object. The same object Jamie encountered near Mars."
"Oh." Steven made it sound like "D'oh!" "Then there are two opposing forces, either within the civilization or between two civilizations of comparable technology."
"That's the theory," said Jamie. "By the way, does Thomas Mayes know you're talking to us about this?"
"No, Commander Shepherd. I haven't shared all my analysis with him. He can be" – Steven searched for a word – "somewhat impulsive at times. But we were starting an investigation into Last Days ourselves, on my urging. That's what we were doing in that church yesterday."
"What scheme is Mayes running these days?"
"I won't speak of that. Whatever Thomas's cognitive weaknesses – shared by so many of you - he's the one person who protected me in prison. He stood between me and ruin. My loyalty to him is unshakable. However, this is bigger than us."
"What you're saying is bigger than all of us." Jamie nodded at her companions. "This needs to go the top – to President Morgan himself."
"Assuming anyone will believe us," said Zach. "I can't see them accepting this without some solid evidence."
"We believe him, don't we?" Jamie asked.
Zach smiled at her. "I admit it's pretty damn convincing. Maybe Steven shares his employer's voice command abilities."
Jamie faced the young man. "Are you willing to talk to others about this?"
"Yes. But you should be cautious about spreading this information. I believe they may have a presence in the U.S. Military and other government organizations."
"Including DARE?"
"That's possible. Though unlikely in your enforcement division, where everyone is thoroughly tested."
Zach was shaking his head. "You're saying they act and look like us. How would they achieve that, not to mention infiltrate our society on such a meticulous level?"
"They've studied our culture thoroughly." His words held a shrug. "The rest is technology."
PRESIDENT ROBERT Morgan never thought he'd be shocked again. Not after his first post-election conference with the famous Jerome Whitehead and his merry little band of scientists called the "Interplanetary Advisory Group," where he learned about the existence of extraterrestrial races and that Whitehead actually played a role that paralleled his fictional duties as "Galactic Advisor" on his award-winning television show. And certainly not after he'd learned about the Object and experienced its fantastical effects up close and personal. But now, listening to Steven Jackson share his far-fetched theories, he was shocked once again: not so much by the claim that "aliens are among us" and luring off chunks of their population with Bible stories – though that was a doozer! – but more that he was believing the kid's words without question. And judging by the people around him – some of the smartest and most hardheaded individuals on the planet – they were buying into Steven Jackson's peculiar gospel as completely as he was.
Except Professor Jerome Whitehead, whose face was a paint-by-the-number portrait of skepticism that was filling in with every word.
"I have to say," said the famous scientist, one forefinger curled within his full white beard, "that what you're describing, young man, does not match either my observations of extraterrestrial activities or my theories."
"Hard to believe that ultra-civilized aliens might pose a threat to humanity, isn't it, Professor?" chuckled Zane Bachman, Ultimate Solutions, a roguish gleam in his eyes. Zach could've sworn he was wearing the same rumpled khakis he'd worn in their first presidential meeting. "Surely any civilization so advanced would've evolved beyond such petty concerns as conquest or annihilation?"
"There's not a shred of evidence to suggest hostile intent on the part of any E.T. civilization that we've observed," said Dr. Whitehead gruffly. "Nor does it make any sense theoretically that a race far more advanced than us would be interested in conquest. There's nothing we could provide that they couldn't easily enough acquire on their own. The typical fictional invasion scenario featuring bloodthirsty aliens is arrant nonsense - nothing more than a projection of our own primitive military and supernatural traditions."
"There's an old philosophical saying," said Zane, "that to assume is to make an ass out of you and me."
"Gentlemen." The President placed his hands on the Situation Room table in a gesture of restraint. "You're skeptical of Mr. Jackson's hypothesis, I take it, Professor Whitehead?"
"Yes, Mr. President, to put it mildly. He's a persuasive and very bright young man, I'll grant you that, but his hypothesis is hardly necessary to explain the rise in religion and messianic/doomsday predictions in uncertain times like these."
"At a minimum," said DHS Secretary, Jill Allen, "we can raid their other churches and bring top Last Days management in for questioning. We could do that without revealing any knowledge of a possible alien connection."
"Yes, we could do that." President Morgan turned to his close friend and Secretary of Defense. "Paul?"
"For what it's worth, I think the 'young man' is on to something. That's my gut instinct."
"If we could bring in some of the Last Days executives," said Zach, "we could set up a room so that we could get DNA samples and discreetly perform some body scans. Maybe acquire some biological markers that can identify them."
"I like the sounds of that," said the President. "All right. Let's proceed with Jill's suggestion. Raid some churches and round up some Last Days executives. Just ask the expected mundane questions about their finances or business dealings the equivalent – nothing to tip them off."
"Inadvisable," said Steven. "You might obtain some data that way, but you would more likely scare them off."
"Would that be a bad thing?" President Morgan asked.
"Once they know we know about them and what they're doing, they may leave. Or they may begin another, more deadly, phase of their mission here. They may even simp
ly terminate this world."
Silence hung over the small gathering like dead weight. After a few moments, Professor Whitehead broke it with a derisive snort.
"What nonsense," he said. "These are rational beings from a civilization that builds starships. They're not monsters. If they wished to harm us or force us into submission, they would have already done so. Instead – granting your hypothesis for the moment – they have sought the voluntary cooperation of individuals. The Last Days message states repeatedly that the choice to enter heaven is to be made freely. That is not in accord with such malevolence."
"But how they'll respond to discovery is an open question, eh, Professor?" asked Zane Bachman. "And I don't call it 'freely' when people are being deceived and manipulated on a mass scale. That raises a big question for me about your assumptions of benevolence, Professor."
"It does for me as well." The President turned to his Chief of Staff, General Perry Williams. "Thoughts, Perry?"
"My main thought is we have no defense against this giant alien craft. Does anyone doubt that it may possess weapons of unimaginable destruction? Without the ability to counter it, we can't win any conflict with them, regardless of what we do to any of them here."
"Precisely," said Steven. "The ship is the ultimate threat."
"But it's not quite true that we have no counter to the ship," said DARE Secretary Jim Bridger. "Commander Shepherd was able to locate it and might've taken offensive action. And while her prospects of success are uncertain, it doesn't seem unreasonable to think that several augments with her power might successfully engage the alien craft. After all, the Object did tell us that our new powers would be sufficient to defend ourselves against this thing, didn't it?"
Everyone in the room turned to regard Jamie. She'd been fearing this from the beginning. Someone was going to suggest that she should've attacked the ship, and that maybe she should return to space and this time go for it.
"What do you think, Jamie?" President Morgan smiled at her thinly, as if he damn well knew what she thought. "I understand you destroyed one of its smaller craft."
"And that took everything I had, Mr. President. The only chance I see of me doing anything against that ship would be to get inside."
"I'd say striking it at your recorded top speed of 3,576 kilometers per second might make quite an impression, Jamie."
Jamie didn't detect any humor in the DARE Secretary's expression. His mild voice and bland expression only underscored the cool challenge in his eyes. She wasn't a mind-reader, but she imagined he was thinking something like: Are you prepared to sacrifice yourself for humanity?
"No one, not even Jamie, could be expected to survive that kind of impact," said Zach, a foreshadow of anger in his voice.
"The ship might not survive it, either." Bridger's expression and tone had grown cooler. Jamie doubted he appreciated being challenged by a subordinate.
"How fast, exactly, is three thousand, five hundred kilometers per second in miles per hour?" asked President Morgan.
"Eight million, Mr. President," said Professor Whitehead. "But chances are she'd never reach the ship. And to say such an act of aggression would be precipitous would be a vast understatement. At worst, they're deceiving us. They've done nothing to warrant that kind of attack. Not only would it almost certainly cost Jamie her life, it could provoke a justifiably stern response."
"And we don't even know people from that ship are doing this," said Zach. "It might be a logical possibility, but it's still just speculation."
President Morgan swiveled partly away from the table, placing his palms together and peering over his fingers as though sighting in on someone or something.
"It would be nice to know where that 'gateway' went," he said.
DARE Secretary Bridger frowned across the table at him. "It was probably an illusion. They're manipulating us."
"For what purpose?" Professor Whitehead remained the picture of skepticism.
"What purpose would you guess, Dr. Whitehead?" An undercurrent of scorn ran through Zane Bachman's voice. "Unless all those people hallucinated, they witnessed an extremely advanced technology in operation at the Las Vegas church. Ditto for the space ship we observed near Mars. So do you believe there's no connection? And if your 'rational' humanitarian aliens aren't behind that 'gateway,' who would you guess is?"
Watching the interplay between the two men, Jamie suspected they had a history of getting each other's goat. But she was with Zane Bachman on this point. Maybe the aliens weren't bloodthirsty monsters, but they were still screwing unethically with people's lives. And she had almost no doubt that Steven was right in drawing the connection between the ship and what was happening here.
"Brian Loving may be capable of creating a doorway virtually anywhere," Steven spoke into the meditative silence. As everyone turned to him, he turned to Jamie. "You have him in custody, don't you?"
"Yes." She stared at him, a knot forming in her brow. "Are you saying that Loving doesn't need any special technology to work with? He can do this on his own?"
"You found no technology in the church, did you?"
"No. But we thought it probably self-destructed or something."
"He already is teleport-capable. All he'd need is a key to the right destination. I believe that 'key' is implanted in him."
No one spoke for several seconds. President Morgan swiveled back to the table, his steepled hands now aimed at Thomas Mayes' brilliant aide.
"Loving's not cooperating, is he?" asked Paul Walker.
"Not exactly," said the DARE Secretary. "He's not exactly uncooperative, either."
"I think we're making some progress with him," said Zach. "He seems to sincerely believe he's working with a divine being, not aliens. We haven't spoken to him since learning about Steven's theories. I think they'd introduce a lot more cognitive dissonance into his brain than we've managed to do so far."
President Morgan drummed his fingers together as if in rhythm to his thoughts through another round of silence. Then he leaned forward and slapped his hands on the long table.
"All right," he said. "Get whatever you can from this Loving character. In the meantime, I'll direct our intelligence community to focus on the upper management echelons of Last Days. No arrests or questioning for now, but leave no stone unturned about who or what they are. And if this ship should move closer to Earth and demonstrate hostile intent" – he met Jamie's gaze gravely – "we'll revisit all options for an augment mission against them."
Chapter 26
BRIAN LOVING WAS WEARING down under Zach's impassioned pleas and Steven Jackson's withering logical arguments. He was shaking his head and squirming in his seat and peering about like a caged animal searching for an escape. Jamie couldn't stop a twinge of compassion for the former male model. It couldn't be easy having your sacred beliefs dismantled.
"You can read our minds," said Zach. "You know we're telling you the truth."
"What you believe is the truth." A small smile surfaced in Brian Loving's handsome face – a remnant of his former self-confidence. "Just what you keep saying about me."
"Dude, you've been duped. I know it's painful to admit, but it's true. You've been an unwitting tool for some form of alien aggression or manipulation."
"I've looked into His soul. I've felt what He feels. It's only kindness. He wants to save us."
"You felt what you were meant to feel," said Jamie.
"Why?" Brian's voice cracked in a plea. "If you're right, why would they lie to us when they could take whatever they want by force? I know you don't have the answer to that, either."
"Why don't you open a doorway to this heaven, and we'll go in and ask them that question?" She stared at Loving, knowing he could read her impatient thoughts and past caring. "You can open a gateway, can't you?"
Brian Loving's stony silence said it all. Zach was shaking his head and groaning under his breath.
"No, no, no," he said. "No way, Jamie. You have no idea of what you'd be going i
nto."
"How bad can heaven be?"
Zach ignored her forced smile. "It could easily be a one-way ticket. Or you and whoever was with you could die."
"He won't kill you." Loving spoke so softly they almost didn't hear him.
"Do you have a better idea?" Jamie asked Zach.
"He hasn't even agreed to do it."
Brian Loving slumped in his chair, head down. Until now, Jamie had never imagined what it might be like to be a mind-reader undergoing serious interrogation. Normally, it might be an advantage knowing what the interrogators expected, knowing the right answers, but what if you could see the truth through their eyes – logical truths you couldn't deny?
"I'll do it," he said in a muffled voice. "I don't think it will work. I believe you'll be rejected. But I'm willing to try."
Kevin and Zach glanced at each other. Jamie avoided Zach's eyes.
"They might not agree to it," said Jamie.
"Of course they will." Zach looked miserable. "They're desperate for answers, and we're all expendable."
"You should know something by now, Zachary. I'm not that easy to kill."
THE MISSION to "storm the gates of heaven," as Mort put it, was approved with alarming swiftness. One second it was all an interesting hypothetical – which was the way Jamie preferred it – and the next her team was being assembled and their operation hacked out by Mort and Director Boltman and among themselves. The DARE Secretary mostly watched in the background, venturing a comment or two, but not weighing in on the discussion. It was almost as if he wanted to distance himself from the operation, Jamie thought, just in case it all went to hell.
They brought Brian Loving into Tactical Room One, appearing as dazed and discomfited as when they'd left him four hours ago. His long hair had been shorn to buzz-cut length and his mountain man beard was gone. At his request, she understood. He looked a lot more like a choirboy with his short hair and smooth cheeks than a religious rabble-rouser.
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