by Clyde Key
* * *
The AABC building at Flagstaff was a hundred meters off the highway and it was a striking structure with a shiny metallic architecture unlike any other in the Arizona city. Its startling appearance was a source of pride to some of the younger agents who had worked there, but it was a thorn in the side for the older citizens who loved the traditional stark styles of the desert area. They particularly disliked the way the sun’s reflection glared off the many shiny panels, though the government people pointed out that the style saved them all tax money because it required very little air conditioning.
When Ed and his young passenger came in sight of the AABC building, they both gasped at the sight. Atop the building was a huge craft that looked for all the world like a giant silver preying mantis.”
“The aliens! They’re here!” said Freddy.
“No. I don’t think so,” said Ed. “That’s not an alien ship, but it has no business being here.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a jet veeto. That’s short for jet vertical takeoff plane. It’s quite old fashioned.”
“What’s it doing here, then?”
“That’s what I’d like to know. But I’ll bet it has something to do with government chiefs. Those things have been outlawed because they take so much fuel, but the government still keeps a few to carry the big shots around.”
Moments later, Ed charged into the administration offices with Freddy trotting along behind. “What the devil is going on here?” he demanded of the first person he met, a young woman who had been transferred there that morning.
“Mr. Tilson is getting things organized,” she said.
“Tilson? What Tilson?”
“Merrill Tilson. He’s the regional administrator.”
“No, he’s not! Tilson is northeast! I’m in charge here!”
“But who are you?”
Ed stood with his hands on his hips and glared at her. “I’m Ed Halloran. I’ve been in charge of this office for ten years and I have not resigned. Now you better get Tilson out here fast!”
“Yes sir!” She jumped up from her desk and ran back into the office that had been Ed’s. But now the nameplate read M. Tilson.
Within seconds, Tilson emerged from the office. Tess Williams was right behind him.
“What the devil are you doing in my office?” said Ed.
“This wasn’t my idea. In fact I resisted it, but you know how Ms. Sisk can be when she gets an idea.”
“Arlene! I should have known! So what did she have in mind to do with me?”
“I can’t tell you that,” said Tilson, “because I don’t know. She sent me here because you got captured—and Sharp and Everett did, too—and nobody thought we’d ever see you again. But I want to tell you, I’m pleasantly surprised!”
“To tell you the truth, I’m glad they finally got somebody else out here. It looks like more people in here now than in the last ten years combined. They’re interaction agents, I hope.”
“That’s right. They’re the best from across the country, all assembled here because this is where the action is.”
“Yeah. Sure they’re the best! I remember some of them. There’s Wilkins and Forth from southeast and Harkins from north central—all junior level.”
“Okay. There weren’t a lot of volunteers, so these are the kids who can be pushed around a little.”
“They’re kids, but what’re you doing here?”
“That’s simple. Of course, Ms. Sisk needed a real leader for a group like this. You have to admit you haven’t had a new thought in years. You’re an old reactionary! She needed someone bold and not afraid to take initiatives, so who else but me? Who else would be better to lead our nation into a profitable interaction with The Visitors? Who else could better foster communication and understanding between disparate lifeforms?”
“Who else but Arlene’s main lackey?” said Ed.
Tilson didn’t respond to that comment. Instead, he turned to a young woman sitting at the receptionist’s desk and said, “Get the whole staff into the conference room. Halloran being back changes everything.”
Tess Williams spoke up. “Who is with you, Mr. Halloran?”
Ed turned and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “This is Freddy Burris and he has a big problem. I want you to get an agent down here to interview him, because he believes his brother went to meet with the aliens.”
“Visitors,” said Tilson. “Always call them The Visitors. Anyway, you don’t order my people around. I give the directions here.”
“Okay. So what do you suggest?” asked Ed.
“Ms. Williams, would you please get somebody to interview the child?” said Tilson. “On second thought, I believe it would be best if you did the interview. Halloran and I will conduct the meeting.”
For one hour, Ed and Tilson argued about the best way to establish contact with The Visitors. Ed proposed taking an armed squad to the alien fleet and demanding that the alien leaders come out and talk. He said we might only get their attention through the use of force. Tilson, on the other hand, advocated setting up agent outposts around the fleet to intercept any aliens who might be moving out. They would be equipped with communication equipment, gifts, and fast retreat vehicles in case there was trouble. Most of the agents polled preferred Tilson’s approach. None of them wanted a post near the fleet, though.
In the end, they developed a compromise. Ed and a couple of volunteers including Robin Wylie and an agent from southeast would try to initiate contact, while the other agents would set up outposts at a safe—hopefully—distance from the fleet.
“There’s one more thing I want to know,” said Ed. “What on earth is that jet veeto doing on the roof?”
“The veeto? I came in that. My position here demands that I be flexible in my travel arrangements in case Ms. Sisk or the president wants me back in Washington. And I plan to keep it here as long as those aliens—I mean Visitors—might be coming this way. From what I hear, those globes are extremely fast, and I don’t intend to be eaten!”
11
Dec. 15, 2025
Lawrence Jantzen stormed into Evan Saxon’s office, and stood right in front of Saxon’s desk. He had interrupted a meeting between Halloran, Philips, and Saxon, and he was seething. “What do you mean by this? How dare you send a message to the aliens without consulting the rest of us?”
“We didn’t send any message,” said Evan Saxon. “What I said was that the institute at Arecibo sent a message. They aren’t part of ETCC and they don’t answer to us.”
“Still, they had no right! This thing is bigger than any one country. They shouldn’t have gone ahead without asking us!”
“It seems to me that ETCC wasn’t going to consult with them,” said Hank Halloran. “There hasn’t even been a hint of international cooperation.”
“Arnetta Washington said you put them up to it,” said Jantzen. “Is that true?”
“I—we, I mean. Halloran, and Philips and myself—we have been in contact with Arecibo. In fact, Bennett U. has been in daily contact with them for years. And they asked for our ideas so we told them what we thought. They did what they wanted to, then.”
“From now on, don’t act without checking with the commission,” said Jantzen.
“I’ve got an idea,” said Saxon. “Actually, it was Halloran’s idea, but I quite agree with it. It seems to us that this job is really made up of two parts. Number one, there’s the technical aspect of establishing communication: breaking codes and interpreting languages and that sort of thing is one. Number two is deciding what to say.”
“I thought you already had the technical ability to send them messages,” said Jantzen. “If not, then what was all this hullabaloo about Arecibo transmitting something?”
“Sending a transmission is not all there is to communicating,” said Halloran. “We haven’t communicated unless our transmissions are understood. That’s why we tried to come up with a simple, basic message that might be poss
ible for them to decode.”
“Aha!” said Jantzen. “I knew you sent that message!”
“I didn’t finish,” said Saxon. “What we’re suggesting is that ETCC stops worrying about trying to spend so much money and let’s get on with our work. Some of us are technical people—Halloran, Philips, and me—and the rest of you are basically political. That is you all represent some part of the political spectrum, not that that’s bad because politics is what makes the country tick.”
“Get to the point,” said Jantzen.
“Very well. We propose that the commission be broken up into subcommittees. The three of us could work on how to communicate, and the rest of the commission can concentrate on composing a message. And this whole thing won’t cost the country much money.”
Jantzen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “As chairman of the commission, I’d have to be on both committees. I’ll bring it up with the others, though.”
“I have another suggestion,” said Philips. “I think we ought to get somebody down to Arecibo to visit with them in person. It would be good PR, both here and abroad.”
“Good idea!” said Jantzen. “I’ll be out of here early tomorrow. Who do I need to see while I’m there? You think I ought to bother talking to anybody else but President Duran? Maybe I could meet him for a tour of the observatory. Wouldn’t that be a great photo-op?”
“It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” said Philips. “If we send somebody of your position, it might come off as Yanks pushing their weight around down there. They’re quite sensitive about that, you know, and you do have a powerful personality.”
“Hmm. What do you think, Sexton?”
“I think he’s probably right,” said Saxon. “However, I do believe that whoever goes should go as a representative of the United States, and we should definitely push this international cooperation theme.”
Jantzen was rubbing his chin again. “Yeah. I like it, but I really think I should go. It would make a statement about how important it is.”
