Overlord

by David L. Golemon

  “The Grays are starving. The attacks initiated on the Earth since 1947 have been geared to dominate until such a time as they can consolidate a foothold for processing the populace and wildlife, domestic plant and animal life of the planet, for transport back to their home fleet to feed the remainder of their kind.”

  As the sensitive voice of Marilyn Monroe answered, the room erupted in outrage. The PM rapped his knuckles on the table to get everyone to calm down. Only Giles Camden remained silent as he looked at the screen.

  “Why doesn’t the enemy attack in force against many cities at once, why piecemeal?” asked the French president as the PM nodded his thanks in assisting with the questioning. “And what I see is a major flaw in the Gray tactic is the fact that they have left our entire inventory of communications satellites in orbit. Why?”

  “They are limited by power restraints. Generating the power to open up a transit wormhole takes a vast amount of energy. They can only send through a limited number of warships and processing plants at one time before their power base can regenerate. This will eventually be solved by the Grays when they take certain areas of conquered territory by utilizing the nuclear facilities of these fallen countries. As to your query on why they have left the Earth’s communications satellites alone, that is simple—it is their way of gathering intelligence. They have found that the Earth is quite talkative when it comes to secrets. This is why Overlord utilizes—” Again the men around the table heard Pete Golding admonish Matchstick about saying too much.

  The leaders and representatives around the conference table were shocked by the brutal truth being told to them.

  “Gentlemen, I would like to pause the questioning only momentarily and show intel on something that may interest you. It seems we may have caught a break with the satellite footage you are about to see.” The prime minister nodded his head at Lord Durnsford, who in turn gave an Air Force lieutenant the okay.

  On the large screen the view of the blacked out Matchstick and Pete Golding vanished, to be replaced by a green-tinted night view of Mumbai. It was the man from MI6 who explained what they were about to see.

  “The footage we will see here is from one of Great Britain’s satellite systems that was retasked over India last evening.” The view was on the city and the saucer sitting in its center. “This was one hour after the attack. As you watch, the three smaller vehicles are dormant as they keep station watch over the larger; now you see another saucer enter the shield area from the south. It was discovered through independent observers that this saucer entered the city from the bay only a few miles away. Electrical readings of the shield had shown a 70 percent power loss after the attack by the Indian Air Force and Army. Now as you see, the shield has dimmed somewhat since that attack. Now watch the approaching saucer as it lands on the very top dome of the larger craft. You see it has landed.” The view showed a mating of the smaller and larger vehicles.

  The next scene came on and the PM explained further. “This was an hour later; you see the smaller craft lift off and then exit the alien-controlled area. See the brighter, stronger glow of the shield once this mating was complete? British Intelligence had the readings verified. The shield was back up to almost 100 percent efficiency after this mating.”

  “Are you saying that this smaller craft transferred power directly into the large one?” the German representative asked.

  “Yes, that is our belief,” Durnsford said. “The battle of Mumbai, although a failure, has given us some rather valuable insight into our enemy’s limitations. The fighting and defense of the three ships inside the shield were drained in fending off the attack.”

  “So what if we use special weapons? Would that not drain their power source completely?” the German representative continued.

  “That is a question for another time and men such as yourself who are policy makers, not a simple man such as myself. But I would believe the question that stands before us is how do we save lives, not destroy them. A nuclear strike may disable the attackers, but would also completely destroy the city under attack. Rather wasteful, I should think.”

  “Thank you for that insight, Lord Durnsford,” the PM said, trying to get the subject of the matter out in the open. “Magic, are you there, sir?”

  “Yes, and I agree with the gentleman. The use of nuclear weapons unless out in the open will cause irrefutable harm to the planet and only hasten the downfall of mankind. You will die long before the Grays run out of invasion ships.”

  “So, let’s move on, shall we? What you are saying is that the Grays do not want this planet for her natural resources as we suspected, but are treating our world as a food processing plant for their fleet of warships. Why not just come and take the entire planet after our military has been subdued?” The PM’s eyes stayed on Camden.

  “Their populace is in need of nourishment; they are a dying race. Once they have a healthy diet they will come in force and take all animal life on Earth.”

  “Magic, based on your calculations and those of the Garrison Lee Group, and after studying the Hubble telescope images, what do you estimate the Gray population onboard their home fleet to be?”

  There was a long pause as Pete was heard admonishing Matchstick that he had to answer the question. Finally Europa interpreted the query for him.

  “Over seventy billion.”

  The group sitting at the table erupted as they realized what it was they were facing. The PM allowed the men to state their fears in the open, as he knew this could only scare them into action and possibly sway President Camden into the Overlord camp.

  “Once a power base has been established they will land in force and overwhelm not just the military, but the entire world population. Then the Grays will move on. They have already killed many, many species, including—”

  Pete was heard stopping Matchstick from elaborating.

  “This is kind of disconcerting,” Lee Preston whispered to Virginia.

  “You don’t know the half of it.”

  “Magic, does the plan code-named Overlord have a chance of succeeding?”

  A very long silence came through the television monitor and the PM hoped Magic would fudge the answer like it had been discussed weeks ago by Compton, himself, and Mahjtic. The small alien’s answer threw that right out the window.

  “Ten percent chance of success.”

  “Only 10 percent?” the PM asked, disappointed that Matchstick had not been reminded to exaggerate their chances of success to a point where there was hope.

  “Yes, the variables and design of the weapon have not been established or tested. The alien power plant recovered in Iran has to be adapted to the working model and is far from guaranteed to supply the—”

  Again Pete Golding stopped Matchstick cold before he said too much.

  “That’s about enough of this dog and pony show, sir.” Giles Camden stood and then paced to the monitor and snapped it off. “I must admit, I was never a believer in this alien attack, and have been made the fool in its obvious reality, but I will not sit here and allow the people of my nation to be the subject of an experiment in defense when we don’t even know who”—he looked directly from the prime minister to the two people sitting away from the table, Virginia Pollock and Lee Preston—“this asset—this so-called Magic is. I have taken an oath to protect the citizens of my nation, gentlemen, and I will not strip her defenses for something this man”—he slapped the top of the monitor for emphasis—“claims has only a 10 percent chance of working. Whatever this weapon of yours is. No, I will recall all forces of the United States back into home territory and fight them our way.” He turned to General Caulfield. “General, we need to talk after this meeting is adjourned.”

  Caulfield nodded his head as he chanced a look at the PM.

  “Gentlemen, I recommend that you also prepare to defend yourselves.” Camden walked back to his chair and took a seat.

  Now it was the time for the Chinese representative to stand. He was solemn and
had not uttered a word since sitting.

  “The People’s Republic is under direct assault by this race of barbarians, and now you propose to leave us at the mercy of their onslaught, to allow our population to be taken away, all to benefit you so you can consolidate power back home. This act, gentlemen, is unacceptable. You have lured the People’s Republic and our dead leader into this undisclosed Overlord plan to give your nations time to fight your own battles at home. China’s obligation to this council and this alliance is at an end. We will most assuredly test this power theory advanced by your intelligence services, we thank you for that. Good day, gentlemen.”

  The representative started walking from the room, quickly followed by his aides.

  “Mr. Xiao, please—”

  The doors closed as the German representative stood, bowed, and then also left without a word.

  Camden was not finished.

  “Who are these two people?” he asked, as he gestured toward Virginia and Preston.

  “Mr. President, if you would direct your questions to me, I will be happy to answer all you wish to know … to a point.” Lee Preston stood and faced the president.

  Camden grew furious as he took in Lee Preston. There was no need to make the introduction as he was well aware of the former congressman’s name and his reputation as a bull dog. Most of the time his attitude had been directed at people like himself.

  “What do you mean ‘to a point’? I am the president of the United Sates and you will answer any and all questions I choose to ask.”

  Daniel Peachtree cringed at the way Camden was speaking to a very deliberate and smart man. Preston was no one to have a pissing contest with. The counselor looked at Camden but didn’t respond as he waited for a question to be asked.

  “What are you doing here, Mr. Preston? This is a closed military evaluation committee and you are not welcome.”

  “From what I’ve heard here today, I believe this concerns everyone on the planet, not just the military.”

  “I again state my question, Mr. Preston: why are you here?”

  Preston pulled out a document from his briefcase, stepped to the table, and slid it down unceremoniously to Camden, who didn’t bother to reach for it.

  “I am here to represent the asset you now know as Magic. To preserve his rights as a free citizen of this country, and his right to remain anonymous in the face of the situation he is involved in. He is a private citizen. I represent Mr. Mahjtic Tilly, and his legal guardian, Augustus Tilly, both residents of the State of Arizona.” He took his seat once more.

  Daniel Peachtree was shocked but kept the emotion in check, as he had just confirmed the fact that this Magic was the asset that was being hunted by Hiram Vickers and his Black Team. He placed a hand on the president’s arm and patted it lightly, indicating that he should hear Lee Preston out.

  “As to Dr. Virginia Pollock, she is here because she has been tasked, through presidential order, to look after and secure the subject known as Magic. And at this moment she is under the protection of that same presidential order.”

  Camden didn’t like the smug look on Preston’s face as he held eye contact with the counselor. He quickly decided to allow the matter to rest as he knew that Peachtree wanted to pass something along to him later.

  Before Preston could continue the men inside the glassed-in conference room saw the activity in the strategic center below pick up as several screens came alive with a satellite view of Texas. At that moment a Marine courier entered the room and passed a note to the president.

  “This is why we are pulling out of any agreement my predecessor has made to this council.” He held up the note just as the red alarm lights started flashing below in the information center.

  “What is it, Mr. President?” the prime minister asked, fearing the worst.

  “First, the Pakistani Air Force has gone to full nuclear alert for preparations to defend themselves against the attack in India. They say they will not allow the saucer to move on them after they have finished in Mumbai. They said they will destroy the landing craft before they can move against Pakistan. They claim the Indian government has not done everything in their power to stop the enemy. Thus, the Indian government has reciprocated and brought their border forces to red alert for action against their neighbors if they move to strike at the alien assets at Mumbai.”

  The prime minister lowered his head as he saw Overlord vanishing before his eyes.

  “What else, sir?” Peachtree asked. His assessment of the situation as explained to the president earlier had come to fruition.

  “Houston, the Johnson Space Center in particular, is now under full-scale enemy attack.”

  With that short and blunt announcement that history may never record, the coalition of allied nations disintegrated.

  11

  JOHNSON SPACE CENTER

  HOUSTON, TEXAS

  Admiral Carl Everett watched the drill being conducted by SEAL Team 5 out of San Diego. The action was taking place underwater in the large Space Center pool. Everett was there also, wearing the bulky spacesuit that had been trimmed down from its nominal requirements for space excursions. He hated the feeling of restriction the suit added to an already difficult training exercise. This was coupled with the simple fact that he was still in the dark as far as his mission parameters were concerned. He was working closely with a mix of navy personnel and Delta Force of the U.S. Army.

  The specialized commando force was working as a team. The SEALs were the access assault team and the Delta personnel the action team that would enter the target and set an explosive device that the military had yet to explain. Carl’s job was to make whatever their mission truly was go off without a hitch. Thus far they had been training in a near-weightless environment against a mockup of a metallic access point that the SEALs would breach and then secure the interior compartments of an as of yet undisclosed alien location. Before breaking ties with the coalition, the Chinese had forwarded the specs for the entranceway through photo recon of the Beijing craft. Still, Everett came to the conclusion that because of security, or the fear his units would be captured because of the events at sea and in Iran, his mission would undoubtedly fail because of a lack of free-flowing intel.

  He had spent very little time with Master Chief (retired) Jenks as the mad engineer was off in the simulator area working on one of his strange vehicles. Everett thus far was not pleased at what he had been seeing as far as cooperation between the Army and the Navy. The Delta men complained bitterly that it was taking the SEALs far too long to gain access to the mock-up of the two large metallic doors, and that they, the interior team, were being left exposed outside whatever craft it was they were assaulting. Instructors inside their small cubicle kept blowing horns when the team, in their estimation, had been wiped out before entering. Where these fail-pass parameters came from Carl didn’t know, but he was determined to find out. He could not train men like this.

  The Delta team was limited as far as the weapons they carried and complained bitterly that the SEALs had all of the serious firepower. Delta carried strange-looking sidearms that were mocked up in plastic and they resembled no handgun they had ever seen. The SEALs had a much stranger shoulder-fired assault weapon and had no idea how it worked. Again, training blind was the way Carl looked at it. He was becoming furious at the strange compartmental way the secret project was being run.

  The design bureau at the DARPA—Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency—complex next door said they would have working weapons within the week. Everett wasn’t so sure about the estimate when he saw Master Chief Jenks raise his brows in doubt at the claim while attending a design meeting. When they asked the master chief about the progress of the assault platforms he shook his head and smiled.

  “Well, if you consider the fact that we have blown up in simulation no less than fifty-seven times, and the two ships have collided only twelve times with the simulated loss of all onboard, if that’s progress, then yes, the Asimov and Hei
nlein are almost certainly ready to go.” That comment was the forbearer of the explosion of temper from the master chief claiming that he couldn’t run his shop like this.

  Carl was as lost as ever as Jenks had refused to divulge the nature of the project he was in charge of. He had hints when Jenks had claimed on more than one occasion that the NASA, Boeing, Lockheed, and DARPA engineers he was working with were a bunch of candy-asses that were good for nothing other than protecting their own skins. He knew it was a vehicle of some kind and that his men, his uncooperative assault element, would use the two vehicles to enter some sort of alien craft. He was lost after that as the “need to know” was driving him crazy.

  Everett slapped the side of the clear visor–encased helmet when his communications shorted out. He shook his head inside the environmental suit as this was the fifth time he had lost communications with his assault teams.

  As he slapped his helmet again, he saw one of the SEALs turn and shove away the Delta commando who was looking over his shoulder and giving his unwanted advice as he was trying to assist laying the explosive against the mock-up of the entrance point. Several other SEALs joined the first and then they were soon at odds with five more Delta team members as they all came together in a shouting match. Everett shook his head and then pushed off from the bottom of the giant water-filled tank. Two navy divers hooked his breathing pack to a hard point and then hoisted him up and out of the pool. As the divers released him to the deck team, Everett pointed harshly to the helmet as it was removed.

  “The goddamn radio shorted out again. Tell whoever designed this fucking thing that it’s for shit. It may work well in space, but a water environment? It leaves a lot to be desired. Now someone get on a radio that works and get those idiots to the surface!”

  The assistant handlers had never seen the admiral lose his temper before and they were humbled as they moved off to get his commando teams out of the pool.

  As Everett was stripped out of the tight-fitting environment suit he was approached by the man running this insanity, General Perry Cummings, commander of the Space Center special training unit.