Legacy

by Bob Mauldin

  He walked across the room and sat back down. Ensign Martin had set another beer on the table beside his chair, and Simon picked it up. Looking at his wife and friends, he nodded. Not bothering to drink from the beer, he used it to gesture with. “The point I’m making here is this: we asked you to reveal our presence. We gave you the opportunity to put the best light on it that you could, and you did nothing. Well, we’re going to do it for you. What we have is another video. We’ll show it to you and let you go tell your bosses. So that they will have some warning. I don’t like being blind-sided, and I don’t think they do either. We are set up to transmit a signal in forty-eight hours to the entire world, one time-zone at a time. This transmission will explain who we are, what we stand for, where we plan to go, and how we got what we have. We’ll start with India and Russia because they are on the other side of the globe and it will be eight AM there. Then each time zone until we get them all. Here, watch this.”

  Picking up a remote control, he pointed at a TV that had been on but muted throughout the meeting. “This is a copy of the tape we will air in two days. As soon as you leave here, get it to your bosses. Maybe they can put some kind of positive spin on things before the balloon goes up. Sit back and hold on, folks. The ride is about to get bumpy.”

  Simon pressed play, and the actors winked out, replaced by snow. He pressed mute and a hiss filled the room. Seconds later, an image formed, and there stood Simon himself, dressed in his uniform, collar insignia in place and name-tag above his pocket. A dais stood beside him, but all there was behind him was the blackness of space, relieved only by the stars. Off to one side a ship could be seen. The figure on the screen stood there for a few seconds without saying a word and then began to speak. “People of the planet Earth.” Simon paused the tape. “I know that’s melodramatic. I didn’t want to use it, but everybody said I should. That it would get people’s attention. I think most of ‘em have seen one science-fiction show too many, but I gave in to it.” He pressed resume and the tape went on. “My name is Simon Hawke and I have a spaceship. A real, working space ship that is capable of going from one star to another. We call her the Galileo. I know she came from outside the solar system because we, that is, Earthmen, didn’t build it, so it had to come from elsewhere. It is capable of building other ships and bases. At the time of this transmission, Galileo is in orbit around Earth, along with the ship you see in the background. We’ve named her the McCaffrey. How we came to be in possession of this ship is a story for another time. Right now, what you need to know is that we have the ship and several other ships we built over the past two years. The reason for this transmission is to inform you of our existence. The governments of Earth have consistently refused to reveal our presence, saying that it would cause ‘too much panic’ for you to know about us.

  “As people just like yourselves, that is, just average citizens, we believe that this ship we found and all the technology on it belong to the human race in common. Not to any one country or group within a country, but to all people everywhere. We therefore have petitioned the governments of Earth to grant us three embassies. One on the North American continent, one in Europe and one somewhere in Asia. We would like to place the first in Switzerland as they have a reputation for neutrality unsurpassed in history. These embassies will be open to all citizens of Earth to come to and request a position aboard one of our stations or ships. We wish to trade some of the technology for these bases and for our people’s safety when they are not aboard ship. So far, we have had no success in getting any agreements of any kind. The only restriction we have imposed at this time are on weapons and propulsion technology. All else is available to the people of Earth.

  “Now, the ship you see behind me is a warship, and is one of the only two operating ships we’ve built so far. We have four more in varying stages of completion, along with dozens of smaller one-man ships we call Mambas. We regret the necessity for making our first ships warships, but the universe is not a friendly place. This ship was armed when we found it, suggesting enemies, and they turned up. We have suffered casualties due to their interference, but we prevailed. We don’t know whether it was because our bases looked like their enemies or if they would not tolerate another space-based race. We wish to build freighters, passenger vessels, courier ships, survey vessels, re-supply ships, and yes, unfortunately, other warships. We have three operating bases in the asteroid belt turning out ships for which we desperately need crews. Going to the governments of Earth would only defeat our purposes by allowing the weapons technology to get into the hands of people whose only agenda is to increase their own power.

  “There is one other thing we want: that is for the people who join us to not be harassed when they come back to Earth. And come back they will. This is their home. They will vacation here, visit friends and families, and retire here. We don’t want our people arrested, detained, debriefed, interrogated, incarcerated, or anything else simply because they chose to work for us. If they should break laws of any country, they should, of course, be subject to those laws, but not just because they are our people. And they will be bringing their knowledge back with them.

  “This transmission is being made at this time, because I, as commanding officer, am supposed to meet with and discuss just exactly these issues with various leaders of Earth within the next forty-eight hours. One of the requests we have repeatedly stated is that knowledge of our existence be made public and be confirmed by the governments of Earth. This request has not been satisfied. We therefore take this unilateral step to inform you of our existence. And while it is possible for this transmission to be a fake, similar to Orson Welles’ War of the Worlds broadcast of the nineteen-thirties, the visual display in your skies above some of the major cities in each time-zone, will most definitely not be fakes. The visual display will begin ten minutes after the end of this broadcast. We invite all interested parties, especially news agencies and scientists, with cameras, to step outside and not only witness, but film, proof of our existence.”

  The image on the screen reached out and touched the podium he was standing beside, and almost immediately three Mambas moved across the open space behind him. “Those three ships,” the recorded Simon said, as he stepped down off the dais, “are ships we call ‘Mambas.’“ The invisible cameraman followed Simon as he walked over to and in front of a Mamba parked on the Projects Deck of Galileo. The image of Simon said, “This is a close-up of what you just saw outside the force-field. This a Mamba, named after a very fast, very deadly snake, and it has already earned its name. This is what you are going to see in your skies ten minutes after this transmission ends. There will be three of them, and we invite your military forces to try to stop them. We will cause no damage to any of your craft or any of your property, but we are about to give you an aerial display that will prove that what we say is so.

  “Please, after this transmission and display, get in touch with your governments. Let them know how you feel. We are betting that you will feel the same way we do: that this is one of the most wonderful times and occurrences in human history. And that to relegate what we found to some government would be the blackest folly. No one nation could hope to survive if all the others knew they had this ship. Before they could figure out how to use it, the world would end in a nuclear holocaust, and that is our prime reason for refusing to turn it over to any government. Tell your governments that you want the technology that we can provide. Tell them that you want to join us on this, the greatest endeavor in human history, and that you want to be able to come and go at your own discretion. Thank you for your time.”

  At that point Simon stopped the tape and walked over to the VCR. Silence reigned in the room as he pulled the tape out, placed it in a plastic case, and handed it to Galway. Turning the TV off, he turned to his guests. “Well, gentlemen, how did I come off? I tried not to sound too pretentious. I didn’t want to sound like I was begging and I tried not to sound like I was threatening. What do you think?”


  Getting no response, he sat back down. “I think your bosses will be wanting to see that at the earliest possible moment. We have several ships available to perform the aerial acrobatics that are going to be seen. So, I think when it is to be the Eastern seaboard’s turn, we’re quite likely to hit both Washington, DC, and Boston. What do you think? I’m thinking maybe Chicago and St. Louis, Denver, certainly. I had considered Roswell, but then thought that would be ... just not right. They’ve suffered enough. Albuquerque, and what do you think of San Francisco and Seattle? London will get a show as well as Paris, Berlin, Beijing, Tokyo, Moscow, Sydney, Johannesburg, did I leave anyone out? Oh, well, my logistics people will let me know. And just for general information, we’ve turned off our shields. We can now be seen by any amateur astronomer or professional, for that matter. Visual, infra-red, ultra-violet, radio telescopes will have a problem since we don’t transmit on any frequency known to man. And you can look about twelve thousand miles straight up.”

  The man from NASA, Mitchell, was the first to say, “I think that this should be brought to someone’s attention immediately.”

  Kitty asked, “Just how immediately would you like, Mister Mitchell? I can arrange for you to be in DC in about five minutes.”

  “You can do that? How?” he asked incredulously.

  Kitty smiled. “Why, quite easily. First, we beam you up to the ship, then beam you back down to DC. Five minutes and your boss will have that tape.”

  Anderson stirred in his chair. “That would be a most inappropriate thing to do.”

  “Meaning you don’t want one of your people out of your sight, is that right?” Commander Marshall quipped. “How about you go up with him? I’m sure we can arrange a small tour before beaming you back to Earth. I’ll go with the two of you and; make sure you get home safe. I know you want to see her and I’m sure you’ve got your knickers in a twist over the fact that the FBI has had an agent aboard for a while now.”

  Kitty spoke up. “I like that idea, John. I could escort Mister Galway and Colonel Babcock on a tour of their own, if they’d like.” Kitty smiled at the two men.

  Galway demurred. “That is a most generous gesture, Mrs. Hawke. But I’m afraid that at this particular time, we’ll have to decline. How about rain checks for the future?”

  Kitty knew when she had a man hooked. “Why certainly, Mister Galway. And as long as we are near if not on the subject, I have something for you.” Getting to her feet, she walked over to where Ensign Martin stood. She reached down and picked up a slightly over-sized attaché case and carried it back to the coffee table. She set it on the table and the men scurried to remove drinks so she could open it.

  Spreading the case out flat revealed an electronic device with a small screen in the center of one half and a rectangular hole to one side. She picked up a device the size of an ordinary cell-phone and slid it into the hole. “Now, Brandon, this is a comm-link capable of full two-way communication with Galileo. If you would be so kind as to place your hand, palm down, fingers spread, on the screen, this device will tune itself to you.” She looked him in the eyes and waited while he made up his mind.

  Looking at his companions, he shrugged and did as Kitty asked. The screen lit up, a light green color, and a brighter bar of light swept from fingertip to heel of hand and back again. As the bar disappeared, Galway yelled, “Ouch! What the hell was that?”

  Kitty gave him a coquettish look. “Why, Brandon, that was the DNA sample needed to tune the comm-link to you. No one but you can use it, now.”

  “Well, it stung,” he said petulantly.

  “And if I had told you it was going to bite you, would you have put your hand down there?” she asked.

  “Probably not,” he growled.

  “Well, then,” she said lightly, “there you go.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. Turning it over, she examined his palm. “Not even a drop of blood. We won’t even need a Band-Aid. Better than a hospital, don’t you think?”

  Getting serious, Kitty looked at her watch. “I really hate to end our little tête-à-tête, but we have things to do. Going to change the world, you know. And you guys have got to get on the way so you can try to stop us or at least make yourselves look less bad. I really wish we could have met under different circumstances. Of, course,” she said. “If we had never found the ship, then we wouldn’t be playing in such strange territory and meeting such interesting people.”

  She led her guests to the door, shook each hand and said, “Have a safe trip. And, Brandon, don’t try to pry open the comm-link. It’ll melt, leaving you with nothing. Maybe you could ask for something along those lines, sometime. After all, that unit in your hand is capable of reaching quite a bit further than the twelve thousand miles it has to go to reach Galileo. Of course, it does help to have a receiver tuned to it, doesn’t it? Also, use it to let us know when Vice-President Reese wants to meet. Try to convince him to make it soon. We really need to get our next batch of volunteers and move on back to the asteroid belt.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Simon sat in his ready-room and listened to Jim Collier and Ted Brandt as they pitched their idea. “Captain, we know what needs to be done to keep these people’s attention,” Jim said. “You say you want to start beaming them up today, fine. We can get them to show up at a meeting. But we need someone to come down and show them that we aren’t kidding. So far, all we have is a very large number of upset people. You guys took too long getting back.”

  Ted added, “How about that Commander Miller? She sure got my attention when Rob beamed in with her!” He held his hands out, palms forward. “Not saying anything bad, understand. She’s a knockout, and I couldn’t say that with Alice around. She’d kill me. But she has a presence. And an ability to get someone’s attention. Not just men. Alice and Barb couldn’t quit talking about her for weeks.”

  Simon shook his head. “Commander Miller isn’t on board. She’s been assigned to the Heinlein, but I have a couple of people in mind. One of whom is my wife. Tell me where and when.” He slid a locator disk across the table to Ted. “You’re familiar with one of these, right?” They both nodded. “Good, it will act as a guide for a beam-in. I do need to know the time, at least approximately, so I can have my people on hand. I’d hate to upset any more folks by not appearing when you tell ‘em we will.”

  Getting the time and location of the meeting, he handed Jim a tape like the one Galway had taken back to Washington the day before. “You should see this. We plan to blanket the airwaves with this starting tomorrow morning. It’s going out world-wide. If this meeting doesn’t come off on time tonight, it could be awhile before the ruckus dies down enough to get enough people together for another demonstration. Tell your people we need about four hundred and sixty volunteers packed and ready to go. And good luck.”

  Turning his visitors over to their guide so they could beam back down, Simon called Kitty and Lucy to put the idea of playing demonstrator to them. He found that it wasn’t as hard as he had figured. Apparently boredom was a factor that could figure heavily if properly worked. Leaving the situation in their capable hands, he turned to other matters.

  Conferring with Flight Control was something that needed to be done in person. He deemed it essential to have the pilots involved as well. They were, after all, going to be the stars of the show starting in just a few more hours. Meeting with the pilots and Flight Control officers on the Projects Deck, Simon lined out his idea. “I want the most visually exciting display you can manage, ladies and gentlemen. Without cutting it too close. Dogfights, playing tag, acrobatics, having fun with it. You will be flying in teams of three and your lasers will be toned down to the point that they are no worse than Z-tag guns. Take shots at each other. But, by no means are you to even look like you are firing on a planetary target or anything that comes from Earth. You may most definitely show your superiority by outrunning or flying rings around anything that tries to fly against you, but you will leav
e the area as soon as practical without firing a shot at any craft or ground installation. Your lasers won’t be able to down their ships anyway, but you could blind someone, and that could be just as bad. But, if one of you gets too far out of hand, I will skin you alive in front of the others.” None present doubted Simon’s ability to do so. “No injuries to the downsiders or their property. All we want to do is impress the hell out of them. Got it?”

  At their loud agreement, Simon nodded. “Then I will turn you over to your individual flight controllers. Have fun, come home safe, and remember, you will be monitored seven ways from Sunday, not to mention being filmed by every news service on the planet.”

  Kitty rather looked forward to the impromptu meetings she was asked to participate in. If her previous experience was any guide, they would be a welcome respite from showing newbies around on orientation tours. It was one such tour she gladly turned over to her aide, Rukia Kimura, when she was called to the comm center. “Mister Galway,” Kitty said. “I wasn’t sure we’d be hearing from you today, but I’m glad you called. Or is this a ‘Brandon’ call?”

  Galway’s voice sounded strained. “I was hoping to speak to your husband, Wing Commander. And, unfortunately, I think it should remain formal, today. It has to do with the meeting we have been discussing.”

  “I’m sorry, Captain Hawke isn’t available at this time. I believe he’s busy orchestrating an airshow. After all, our broadcast is due to go out in just under twenty-four hours. So, I will have to do for the moment, that is unless you have a problem with dealing with females.”