by Ira Tabankin
“Isn’t it possible some races use warships for exploration since they won’t know in advance of what they’ll find? I know our early explorers sailed around the world in armed ships.”
Kalteck laughed so hard he spilled his beer, “Do you see what you made me do? My friend, of course, your people used armed ships, it’s all they had. It is an interesting thought I will need to investigate. I am going to take my leave from you tomorrow night. I’d like to spend the rest of the day reviewing your latest reports of UFOs and people being abducted. I assume there have been more reports.”
“Yes, and all of the stories of abduction all share two aspects which are common in almost all of them. One, the people taken report being taken by gray people with huge dark, almost black ovoid-shaped eyes. And they were all subjected to both medical and sexual experiments on their ships. They were paralyzed by some sort of strange green beam which came from the bottom of their ship. The humans were taken for between six and thirty-six hours and they were all returned from where they were taken. Some reported they were taken from their beds and returned to them.”
Kalteck angrily threw his empty beer bottle across the room. He made a perfect rimless basket into a wastepaper bucket to the amazement of Everett. “The damned little maggots. They’re here doing the enemy’s work. I need to locate and destroy their base. This changes things.”
“Are they dangerous?”
“Aren’t all maggots dangerous? My ship’s AI should have known they were here. I’ll have to have a very strong talk with my AI. Were your people taken from one area?”
“Yes, they always seem to be taken in small groups from the same area. I’ll show you on the wall map.”
“I need to make a sweep of the area. I’ll return in a couple of days, continue to collect any such stories and send them to me.”
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Kalteck returned in six days with a smile on his face. “I discovered one of their ships, which won’t be bothering your people any longer. Keep your eyes and ears open. They never operate in single ships. Where there is one maggot ship, there is another.”
“I will. Did you read the rest of the news?”
“Yes, I see your seeding of the nanites I gave you in the Bell Laboratories has borne fruit. They’ve successfully developed the self-aligned gate. This is very good work.”
“Whatever the hell that is. I did what you asked. I paid a visit in ’59 with the test tube you gave me. As you instructed, I opened it in their main lab and the second one in their lunchroom after I finished my meetings. I didn’t know they were full of nanites.”
“What did you think I’d asked you to leave behind?”
“I learned not to always ask. I trust you and your plan. Hence if you ask me to do something and it doesn’t force me to break my oath, I’ll do it. What did the nanites do?”
“They increased the mental computing capacity of a handful of their scientists. The nanites assisted them in their development of integrated circuits that are required to build better and smaller computers and then create AIs and your own nanites. They recently developed the (silicon-gate) MOSFET and then the first silicon-gate MOS IC technology with self-aligned gates. This is the basis of all modern CMOS integrated circuits. You can’t see it yet, but I promise you, you will in the 1970s.”
“Your nanites are enabling you to control us, aren’t they?”
“Why would I want to control you? If I wanted to conquer you, I could have easily done it. I’m trying to help you help yourselves. Think of the nanites as a little outside assistance. The scientists at Bell Labs were already working on these inventions. My nanites simply helped them get there quicker. I’m simply cutting years off of your development cycles. If I wasn’t here, you’d still be flying very crude jet aircraft. You wouldn’t have made it into space or to your moon.”
Chapter 14
As the American moon landings continued, Kalteck reminded Everett, “Remember no landings on the dark side of the moon. You can send probes and take pictures. Your crude sensors will never locate my base. However, I can’t risk people landing there and stumbling onto it. You MUST ensure every landing by Earthlings lands on the lighted side of the moon.”
“How can I promise what others will or won’t do? You’re now asking the impossible from me. I understand the problem and I’m sure you have some way to ensure NASA follows your orders, but if the Soviets attempt another landing…”
“I’ve arranged for the Soviets to drop the idea of a moon landing. The nanites I’ve placed in the Kremlin, which attach themselves to each new leader and their advisors, ensure they’ll follow my orders. After dealing with Stalin and then that sly dog Khrushchev, I learned not to trust any of them. I’m concerned about other nations which in the future may decide to take up space exploration and land on the moon. I can’t take the risk of them locating my base. If they did, I would have to destroy their ship before it could return or even radio home with any of the information they discovered. I don’t want to kill your people. However, to protect my people’s secrets, I will.”
“I understand. What is our next step after the moon?”
“You need to learn how to develop a ship or plane, whatever you’re going to call it, which can launch into orbit and land like a normal airplane. This vehicle will be reusable and easier to launch into space. It will enable you to carry equipment into space to build space stations and cities. This ship will make going into space normal and enable you to build your first of many space stations, which will lead the way to manufacturing in space and space cities. It’s an important step towards space warships.”
“I assume you already have a design. May I see it?”
“I thought you’d never ask. I’ll trade you the design documents for more of that special beer you imported for me. Was it from Germany?”
“Yes, I had one on of my trips there. I thought you’d like it, so I sent a few cases back here. It’s to bad it took you so long to return since I drank most of it waiting for you.”
Kalteck laughed, “Some friend you turned out to be. Let’s go get some more. I’ll drop you off outside of a small town. You buy up all the beer they have, then I’ll fly us back. We can make the entire trip in less than two hours.”
“Sure, everyone flies halfway around the world in a flying saucer to buy beer.”
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In early 1972, Kalteck decided he and General Yahnig had to increase the countries which knew not only of his existence but also what was coming. “My friend, I believe it is time we pay a visit to China and make myself and my mission known to their leader. They have nuclear weapons and are developing long-range missiles. I’m worried that if they don’t understand the risks, they could cause a major war, which would destroy your chance of survival. I can’t afford for them to upset the delicate balance we’ve created. Can you contact the Chinese leader, Mao Zedong, to arrange a meeting?”
“That is something I can’t arrange. I have no contacts in China, nor do I know anyone who does. I’ll need a little time to think of something. America doesn’t have diplomatic relations with China.”
“I understand, I have an idea, it’s outlandish and may work given the personality of Nixon. I will suggest he become the first American President to visit China and meet with their leaders. We’ll tag along, so after Nixon reaches an agreement with Mao Zedong, we’ll meet with him and ensure he brings China into the same agreement as the Soviets and Americans.”
“Do you really believe Nixon will take the bait and go to China?”
Kalteck smiled, “Yes, it will ensure his place in history, which is very important to him. It will give him a buffer against the Soviets, and more importantly, it will provide something for the American media to focus on other than the crisis I’m going to help manufacture for your President. He is so paranoid he’ll fall for the scam of raiding his opponent’s headquarters to learn their election strategy. When we were last at Camp David, I left behind a few micro-small gifts for Nixon a
nd his most trusted aides. I set up the perfect bait for him, I know he will take the bait and fall into my trap, one he won’t be able to get out of.”
“You left nanites behind? Again, you’ve programmed the nanites to put your plan into their heads, didn’t you? You’re becoming a puppet master, pulling our strings to do what you want to be done. I thought we’d discussed you weren’t going to continue to manipulate us.”
“My friend, you ask me not to use my nanites, and then you ask me to use them. You can’t have it both ways. Of course, I did use my nanites. I also arranged for them to get caught. The scandal should provide enough tension combined with Nixon’s paranoia for him to accept the nanite’s suggestion he goes to China, hence opening the way for us to meet with their leaders. They have nuclear weapons and they are developing long-range missiles. It’s time they join the club so they don’t start something which could destroy all of you.”
“Oh my God. You arranged to kill a president and now you’ve programmed one to do your bidding. You’ve pushed way over any line I’m comfortable with.”
“Everett, you know what would have happened had Kennedy announced you were not alone and what was coming. Your world would have torn itself apart. You would have been easy prey for my enemy and you wouldn’t have been able to stop them. My way is better. Admit it. You know I’m right. I assume you want humanity to survive and not end up being the slaves of another race. Then again, they might sell you as food to one of their allies. Would you like that?”
“Food?”
“Of course, there are many carnivorous races which don’t care what kind of meat they consume. Humans could become a new interstellar delicacy. Your race might become a cash crop for the enemy. I could see them breeding you to feed their allies. My enemy could become vastly wealthier, or maybe I could arrange…”
“Stop the BS. We both know you’re not going to sell us…”
“You’re correct, but my enemy could and might. Think about that the next time you think I’ve gone too far. Now let’s discuss more agreeable matters. Since your moon landings are going to stop, we need to ensure the next design is for a space station.”
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Everett sat alone in his home one night after Liane had gone to sleep. She’s again wondering why she’s aged, and I haven’t. She’s 52, and I still look like I’m 30, which I guess, due to the nanites, I am. I told her I have good genes, which, in a manner of speaking, I do. She’s also questioning why after so many very rapid promotions I’ve been passed over for my third star. I can’t tell her that Kennedy hated me due to my assignment and my project. Then while Johnson accepted the situation, he decided the less he saw or heard from me, the better, and now Nixon just hates me and wishes I’d retire. He, too, questioned why I look so young. I haven’t figured out what I’m going to tell Liane in another twenty years when she’s 72 and I still look and act like I’m 30.
I can’t believe Kalteck managed to set up the Watergate break-in and got Nixon’s people caught red-handed. If it weren’t for the nanites, I’d say no one would have been dumb enough to break into their opponent’s offices when their candidate is leading by so many points. Nixon would have won the election without the break-in, and now he’s got a mess on his hands. The damned nanites helped Nixon decide he needed a distraction, so he’s going to China, just as Kalteck said. If I didn’t know more about the nanites, I’d think he’s a miracle worker or a fortune teller. He got what he wanted. We’re going to China. I wonder how they’re going to react to Kalteck.
I don’t know how I feel about these special missions Kalteck sends me on. I still can’t believe I’m supposed to assume another false identity to meet with Mr. Stephen Hawking and give him tips on a theory of black holes. I don’t understand why this is so important to Kalteck, but I guess Kalteck has his reasons. He’s told me I will have to assume different IDs from time to time. I pray this Mr. Hawking doesn’t ask me any questions about these black holes since I won’t be able to answer them. Oh well, I really enjoyed reading Ian Fleming’s books. I guess I’m going to get to play spy. I wonder if I get a license to kill. Shit, I haven’t killed anything since the war ended in ’45.
Everett smiled to himself thinking over an event that happened a couple of days before. He showed me something called a personal computer, a Datapoint 2200. He was very proud of this device. He told me it was going to be remembered as the grandfather of a massive change in our technology and even our society. Why would anyone want their own computer? What would they do with it? It seems like an expensive toy to replace a typewriter which surely is easier to use. There are so many times I don’t understand most of what excites him or why he thinks certain types of technologies and products are so important to our success. All he tells me is one day I’ll understand, and then he swallows a bottle of beer in one gulp. I guess I’m bound to follow my original orders from President Truman to ensure we succeed in saving our people and the planet. So many of these new tasks seem to have nothing to do with me being a military officer, and yet he tells me they’re essential to our success.
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Everett waited in orbit with Kalteck while President Nixon flew to China on Air Force One, which took him over a day. Kalteck and I launched into space in his ship and are waiting here in orbit for Nixon’s military aide to send a coded message to us. I love it here in space. The Earth looks so peaceful. So blue, hanging motionless in the darkness of space. The stars don’t shimmer up here. They fill the monitors like millions of light pinpricks shining through a black sheet. I pity the poor astronauts who have to wear those bulky suits and float without gravity or try to eat out of a pouch. No bathrooms, no bed, they’re the real heroes. I wonder what they’d say if they saw this craft and how I travel into and out of space like a regular commuter going to work every day.
Ah, here’s the signal. We’re supposed to land in the Forbidden City at midnight. They’re projecting a storm which should hide us. They don’t understand what Kalteck calls stealth. They can’t see or hear us. We could land right in front of them and they’d never know we had.
The meeting with Mao went better than I expected. He was shocked at his first sight of Kalteck, but not as much as Truman or Stalin had been. I assume Nixon had warned him what he looked like. Kalteck told me on our return trip he didn’t believe a word out of Mao’s mouth and he knew he would have to teach the Chinese leadership a very painful lesson soon. I know what kind of lessons he uses. I wonder how many are going to die this time.
Mao wasn’t surprised, he was shocked. He finally agreed to sign onto the agreement and become the third member of the secret society of the alien treaty.
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I was woken by the red phone next to my bed ringing. It hadn’t rung in years. It meant the President, or the Secretary of Defense was calling. “General Yahnig speaking.”
“Please hold for the President.”
“General…”
“Yes, Mr. President. What can I do for you?”
“I want you to take your pet alien and go to Moscow. The damned Soviets have unleashed their Arab friends against Israel, and they did it on the Jews’ holiest day. They had excellent intel that had to have come from the Soviets. I want you to get Kalteck to tell the Soviets to pull their dogs off and pull them back into their crates. If they don’t, Israel might use a weapon of mass destruction.”
“Mr. President, I didn’t know they had any…”
“Of course, you didn’t. They were a secret. Will you ask him to put a stop to the war before it gets out of control?”
“Mr. President, he’s not here right now. I will need to send him the crisis signal and hope wherever he is, it doesn’t take him long to return.”
“What the hell do you mean you don’t know where he is? Doesn’t he report to you? What kind of outfit are you running out there? Maybe it is time for you to retire.”
“Mr. President, I am his interface. He doesn’t report to anyone. He comes and goes on his own schedu
le. Sometimes he tells me where he’s going and why, sometimes not. This time all he told me was he was leaving and would listen for my signal.”
“I don’t understand. I want him back here and the two of you in Moscow as soon as possible or the blood of tens of thousands of lives are going to be on your hands. If you don’t get him back right away, you can consider yourself retired. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
Liane looked at my bright red face, “Honey, was that President Nixon?”
“Yes, why don’t you go back to sleep. I have to run over to the office.”
“Who’s Caltech? Is it a school?”
“Nothing dear, nothing. Go back to sleep.”
I was so happy I had convinced the Pentagon to return Major, now a light colonel, Johnstone to me. He met me at the office with a large mug of hot coffee. “I see someone else got tossed out of bed early this morning.”
