Defiant Order

by Donald B McFarlane

  "The honour is mine." The President put out his hand, which Ranix took, with a firm grip, and shook. They held the pose for a few seconds and allowed Jose to capture the moment, which was being simultaneously sent back to the media relations section at the Tohil campsite.

  After a few moments, the handshake ended, and the two men stood in silence for a few seconds sizing each other up, before the President introduced the team that he had brought with him. "May I introduce you to the head of our space program, Doctor John Riley." Riley put out his hand and shook the Floxian's hand.

  "This is an incredible moment, Communications Officer." The NASA administrator was smiling ear to ear. "I look forward to an exciting and mutually beneficial relationship between our two cultures."

  The President introduced the remainder of his team. Ranix was surprised that the President would be accompanied by two men that were responsible for military and defence, but the thought didn't linger long.

  "Mr President, may I introduce you to my crew?" Ranix gestured towards the ship, and the line of crew members that were standing in a neat line, as if ready for an inspection.

  "Please." The two moved towards the ship, with Joe and Rhea and Bobby trailing, followed by the rest of the President's advisors.

  The first to be introduced was Master Engineer Sulvan, followed by Master Doctor Prure. With every crewmember, the President would stop, and ask several questions, mainly curious about what planet they came from, and how they were finding their time on Earth. The President was followed by John Riley, while the other members of the President's entourage stood back, while Joe and the two SETI members informed the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and the National Security Advisor who was who, and what their position on the ship was.

  After the President had met the members of the crew, his attention was directed towards the Sentinel Commander, who was standing still, a few metres away.

  "Is this the Sentinel Commander I have heard so much about?"

  "Yes, it is."

  The two approached the giant machine, with the President leading, walking very slowly. The machine looked like it had just come off the factory floor. Any damage that it had sustained through the course of its service had been diligently repaired by Sentinel Two in preparation for the President's arrival. The green command stripe that ran down its head had also been touched up the previous day.

  The President looked at Ranix, then leant closer to the robot, which was emanating a little hum but was still motionless. Agent Sneed moved towards the President, a slightly worried look on his face. "I'm not sure how close you should get Mr President." Agent advised.

  "The Sentinel Commander is not a threat, Mr President." Ranix's reassurances did not convince Sneed, who took a position just next to the President.

  "Is it on?" The President asked, almost naively.

  "Yes, it is. It is under orders not to move unless there is an emergency, we felt that the machine might be intimidating." Ranix replied.

  With hovering translation devices moving around quickly, the head of NASA, the real geek in the group joined the President, "I've heard that it can speak."

  "True. Feel free to address the Sentinel Commander yourself." Ranix gestured towards the machine.

  John Riley looked at the President, who gave him an affirming nod, then stepped to a position in front of the robot, and only a few paces away. "Sentinel Commander, my name is Doctor John Riley, a pleasure to meet you."

  The NASA administrator looked at the President, then back at the machine, which didn't move to a moment, then bent forward, lowering itself towards the Doctor. Its eyes flashed once, then stayed bright blue. The Sentinel waited a moment before replying, he ran a quick search of the ship's database, looking for the file that contained the names that Major Hunt had submitted for today's visit.

  "Good afternoon, Doctor Riley." The machines English was once again flawless.

  A stunned Doctor Riley looked at the President, who was equally shocked, before replying. "I had completely forgotten you spoke English, and I am very impressed by it."

  "I can speak every spoken language on this world, plus numerous other languages from other worlds, and Universal, Doctor."

  "I've been told that your processing capabilities are awe-inspiring and that you run on a micro-fusion reactor."

  "That is all correct."

  "That is very impressive. I was curious," The Doctor paused and rubbed his chin. "Can you show me something more tangible?"

  The machine erected itself. "You'd like to see a show of strength or some other physical capabilities?"

  The inner geek in him couldn't resist. "If you and Ranix don't mind."

  Riley looked at Ranix. "If it amuses you, Doctor, then it is fine by me." the young officer replied.

  "Very well. How about a display of our technology?" the robot asked.

  "That sounds perfect." John looked at the President who gave him a smile.

  "This should be interesting." The American President commented.

  The Sentinel Commander had already decided on what show he was going to put on for the humans. "Mr President, would you and the rest of your colleagues join Major Hunt, please."

  John Riley started to walk away from the robot when he was stopped. "Could you please stand here, Doctor Riley." The Sentinel Commander pointed to a spot on the ground just next to the hulking machine, on its right side.

  As the President and Agent Sneed moved to where the rest of the humans were standing, they were joined by the members of the crew, who had no idea what the Sentinel Commander was planning. Jose Berenguer was standing off to the side, filming the entire affair, with the rest of the world watching on with morbid fascination.

  The Sentinel Commander looked down at the American scientist. "Stay close to me, Doctor, and whatever you do, don't move."

  With their backs to the spacecraft, the Sentinel Commander, with Doctor Riley almost on his hip, was standing about ten yards from the large group. "I understand that your protection officer was allowed to bring his firearm with him."

  Agent Sneed stepped forward. "That is correct." Sneed took off his Raybans and jammed them in his breast pocket.

  "Excellent." The machine had already run a series of computations on time, distance, wind speed, everything it needed to know to pull off his demonstration. "Would you be so kind as to shoot Doctor Riley with your sidearm, please."

  Riley looked up at the hulking machine. "I don't think I'm too comfortable with that idea."

  "You wanted a demonstration of my capabilities. This is an excellent illustration. You will not be harmed." The machine's attempts to convince the NASA head were not successful.

  Doctor Riley started to walk towards the President. "Not to be rude, but I'm not sure how I feel about this." He covered the ten yards quickly.

  Joe gave Agent Sneed a quick glance, then looked back at the Sentinel Commander. "Let's do it." He patted Agent Sneed on the back with a heavy hand. "Don't miss." he winked at the Secret Service Agent and jogged over to the Sentinel Commander.

  Standing in the same spot where Riley had been standing, he looked up at the machine. "Don't make me regret this, big guy."

  The machine looked down at Joe. "Piece of cake." Looking back at the group, and Agent Sneed, the robot gave his final instructions. "Fire when ready."

  Some members of the President's group were still a little in shock in the idea that someone was going to shoot at Major Hunt deliberately, but the President had said nothing and had even given Sneed the go-ahead nod.

  Sneed methodically pulled out his service pistol, a Sig Sauer P229, dropped the hammer with his right thumb and lined up his sights. "Ready?" He yelled towards Joe and the Robot.

  "Ready." Came the reply.

  With hearts racing, and even some members of the President's party looking away, Agent Sneed, aimed his weapon and squeezed the trigger. As soon as the .357 calibre bullet left the barrel of the gun at over 1200 feet per second, the Sentinel Commander sprung int
o action.

  In anticipation of the shot being fired the Sentinel Commander had removed the safety features of his reactor, which allowed him to go to Combat Mode instantaneously, enabling him to move fast enough to bring his left arm across his body and deploy the energy shield that had been installed a few weeks earlier.

  The energy shield was up in place before the bullet had travelled half the distance to its target, and the minute it hit the blue glow of the shield, it was vaporised. The entire incident was over in less than a second.

  With the energy shield retracted, the Sentinel moved away from Joe and switched his reactor back to Standard Mode. Joe, who was in a bit of a state of shock didn't stir for a few moments. "That was hot!" He exclaimed. The heat from the Sentinel's reactor had singed some of the hair on the left side of his body, and his skin was warm to the touch.

  President Bednarik approached Joe with Ranix just beside him, clapping. "Impressive. Very impressive." the President roared.

  "How about a tour of the ship, Mr President?" Ranix asked.

  21

  Several hundred yards away in the Tohil Technologies command centre, John Robert and his three closest advisors had been watching the footage from the crash site live on a large monitor. After the shooting display, the volume was turned down, and the group looked at each other until one of the advisors spoke up.

  "It's going to be difficult to execute Phase Three with those Sentinels around." he noted, and possibly stating what everyone else in the room was already thinking.

  John Robert had been watching the footage in silence, taking notes on a legal pad that was resting on his lap. "What we need is a piece of their technology. Get it, and send it up to Ottawa to let the lab-boys take it apart to see what makes it tick. Once we've done that, we might be able to learn something that will give us an edge against those machines, because short of bombing the site, which is the last thing that we want to do, we'll need a way to neutralise them."

  He looked back at the monitor, which was showing a live feed of the Presidents group entering the hangar bay of the spacecraft. "I've seen two of these tours already with Doctor Temple; we're not going to learn anything new here." He muted the volume and looked at the other men in the room. "I want to execute Phase Three as soon as the ship is repaired, so we'll need a way around those Sentinels by then." Dropping the legal pad on the table, he got to his feet, and made his way outside for a cigarette, a habit he had told his wife he was quitting, but just not yet. Tohil was on the threshold of becoming the global superpower. He'd stop smoking once that goal had been achieved.

  22

  Fifteen days later, the two Mammoet PTC 200-DS cranes located in Sao Paulo were finally disassembled and loaded into 20, 40-foot long metal containers, which were then loaded onto 20 flatbed trucks. At ten past six on the morning of the convoy, escorted by the Brazilian army, departed on their journey to the crash site in the heart of Paraguay.

  The last fifteen days had been as routine as things could get when dealing with an alien race. SETI team members visited the crash site and liaised with various members of the crew, and then returned for a full debriefing by the scientists from Tohil. Joe had used the lull to fly back to the United States on Air Force One, but he wasn't prepared for the celebrity status that had developed around the SETI team since the first live broadcasts from the crash site were broadcast to the world.

  His parent's house in Maryland was staked out by local reporters every day he was home, and every time he tried to do something that he would have found once reasonable, he was mobbed by people whose views on the events unfolding in Paraguay were all different. Luckily, Joe now had friends in high places, and on one morning, a McDonnell Douglas 600N helicopter made an exceptionally quiet landing and ferried Joe to Andrews Air Force Base, where he boarded a C-5 Galaxy that was on a routine flight to Lewis-McChord Base in Washington State. The Air Force had agreed to make a small diversion on the flight path, and allow Joe to parachute from the C-5 over Lasqueti Island after receiving permission from the Canadian government. With any luck and some skill, Joe would land in near Doctor Stokes family home, and not drown in the Strait of Georgia.

  After a dull flight that lasted several hours, the co-pilot came into the cargo hold, along with the loadmaster, and helped Joe on with his parachute, checked his gear, and helped him over to the aircraft's side hatch. After getting the green light that the plane had slowed to an acceptable speed, the door was opened. Goggles and helmet in place, Joe looked out of the aircraft into the darkness of the nights’ sky. At a distance of roughly two kilometres, Joe was able to make out a large fire burning on the ground, which Rhea said she would start in the properties fire pit.

  As the large aircraft continued to slow and lose altitude, Joe got the thumbs-up from the co-pilot, which he responded to with a salute then launched himself from the plane into the crisp air that filled the night's sky. At 1000 feet, Joe felt he was a little underdressed, wearing only a pair of Levi's, polo, and his trusty Red Converse and, as the wind rushed over his body, he felt a slight chill.

  Looking up, he could see the Galaxy start to gain altitude and speed away to the south and disappear into the night's sky. Directing his attention back to the ground that was rushing towards him at 120 miles per hour, he attempted to get his bearing on the fire. Rhea had said something about the property bordering a small lake, and he certainly did not want to land in that. A swimming pool was also on the property and had to be avoided at all costs. Should be easy to dodge, he reckoned. Just aim for the fire.

  With the rest of the island almost entirely dark below him, Joe checked his wrist compass and confirmed that his head was oriented towards the South, and at 500 feet, he pulled his parachute's ripcord. The sudden jerk of the chute opening was always a relieving feeling. Looking up to check his canopy, he confirmed what he already knew, that everything was peachy.

  Looking down, he could make out his destination in the distance. As he neared the fire, he noticed how quiet it was. There were no lights to be seen either, and it was as if the entire island was asleep, which you'd expect at three in the morning.

  As Joe dropped below 100 feet, his eyes kept scanning for power lines or any other obstructions that he could fly into. Spotting none, he focused on his landing point, which was twenty feet from the edge of the fire pit. Letting his focus slip for just a second, he noted a figure sitting next to the fire, no doubt his welcoming committee.

  Just before he hit the ground, Joe pulled hard on the parachutes risers, slowing his descent as much as possible before he delicately touched down at a gallop. With his feet on the ground, Joe instinctively turned around and began to pull in his parachute, into an unorganised ball of fabric in his arms. With a smile on his face, he started to make his way to the fire, and Rhea, who was already running towards him.

  "That has to be the most romantic entry I've ever seen." She said as she wrapped her arms around him, and gave him a kiss on his right cheek.

  Pulling up his goggles, Joe gave her a kiss back. "Nice to see you too." The pair walked to the house in silence, both grinning at each other.

  “Welcome to Lasqueti.” She beamed a smile at him. “My parents are looking forward to meeting you.”

  “They’re here?” Joe looked around for the house, but the fire had ruined his night vision. “Great.”

  "Don't worry, silly," She glanced over at Joe. "They'll love you." It was more of a whisper than anything else.

  Looking back towards the fire, Rhea picked up two bottles that were on the ground and handed one to Joe. “North Shore Pale Ale. It’s local. Thought you’d like it.”

  Joe took the beer, had a quick glance at the label and clinked his bottle into Rhea’s. “Cheers.”

  Looking up at the night's sky Joe could barely make out the stars with the fire burning nearby. The smell of burning wood and smoke filled the air as a gentle breeze rolled across the field they were standing in. Closing his eyes, he let the sounds of the night fill his e
ar, fighting over the sounds of the crackling fire.

  The touch of Rhea’s soft lips on the side of his neck brought his attention back to the woman standing by his side.

  “I brought a blanket, and my parents are asleep.”

  Joe looked at Rhea and ran a hand through her hair before grabbed a firm hold of her locks behind her head and pulled her face within an inch of his. “Did you now?”

  23

  When Joe woke up the next morning, he didn't have a hangover, so he immediately suspected that something was wrong. He also realised that he wasn’t in the field next to the fire pit, but inside a house, that’s when Joe began to piece together where he was, and how he had got there. The bed he was lying in had some horrible plaid patch quilt covering it, and the room was decorated in sports memorabilia from a bygone era, with several posters of Wayne Gretzky and other great Canadian athletes.

  Swinging his legs off the bed, he glanced around the room looking for his clothes, but couldn't spot them. Scratching his head, he got to his feet and made his way to the room's windows, which had heavy curtains on them. Pulling them back, Joe let the warm morning sun streak into the chamber. He looked out from the first-floor window onto a large green lawn with a swimming pool in the middle, with two people swimming laps.

  Checking his watch, he decided that he had slept enough. Checking the drawers for something to wear, he found an old pair of khakis and a plain white t-shirt, unable to find any shoes, he opened the door and found himself at the end of a short hallway lined with dozens of black and white pictures in dusty frames. At the end of the hall was a twisting staircase, which Joe took to the ground floor.

  Even before he got to the bottom of the stairs, the smell of bacon hit him. Someone had read his mind because breakfast was certainly in his top three priorities at the moment, that and finding his hosts and a lavatory. Following his nose, he managed to find his way to the kitchen, where Joe found a short, grey-haired woman working several burners on a Wolf cooktop. Spotting a bathroom off the kitchen, Joe silently slipped into the room and quietly closed the door, conducted his business, washed his hands and moved back out into the kitchen.