by Geoff Wolak
‘Some time later, a second alien craft approached this base, possibly as a result of us capturing the first craft. Our visitor from the future boarded his craft, and shot down that alien ship, its wreckage a short distance away and now being studied. We have also recovered an alien body.
‘After that ship was shot down, an entire squadron … of fantastically advanced craft, arrived here, in Scotland, and you will see images of them on the airfield here. Those ships were flown by human pilots from a future date, and they are here to help us, their ships more than a match for any alien craft.
‘People of Britain, peoples of the world, help has arrived, and the threat from these alien craft has greatly diminished. Rejoice at this news, rejoice.’
Toby was nudged forwards, since he was not black, Russian … or Chinese. And sounded British. ‘My name is Captain Toby Holton, and I’m from the year 2048. Behind me is my team, and we have another craft in orbit scanning for any unwelcome visitors. You can sleep soundly, because if any more alien craft arrive we’ll engage them, and we’ll shoot them down – you can be sure of that. I can’t say too much more without consulting with the various leaders here, so please don’t ask me any questions. Just … don’t be afraid any more.’
Thatcher fielded questions for half an hour. When Toby’s data-pad bleeped, everyone jumped and panicked – despite the reassuring speech.
‘Go ahead, Dark Star,’ Toby said towards the data-pad, everyone keenly listening in.
‘Captain, I have located another ship, on the ground in North America, in Utah.’
‘Standby.’ Toby faced a senior USAF officer. ‘Tell your people not to fire on any strange craft. I’ll have Dark Star drop down over that alien ship, radar visible, and you can grab the ship on the ground.’
The officer rushed off to use the phone. When he returned, he assured Toby that Dark Star would not be fired upon, not that it was in much danger anyway. Dark Star descended, early morning now in Utah, and was tracked as it approached the alien ship. It hovered at five thousand feet, jets screaming past, helicopters flying towards it. When those helicopters, National Guard Hueys, were close enough, Dark Star descended further, right down to one hundred feet.
Members of the National Guard jumped out from the Hueys, an officer at the front, and searched a high tight gorge, walking straight into the ship. Throwing sand over it, they could see its outline and dimensions. Dark Star disappeared.
Toby took a message from Dark Star, smiled, and informed a stunned USAF officer. That officer made another call. Ten minutes later, and Dark Star materialised on the rear White House lawn. Despite advice against it, the President and his staff stepped out to the ship, and walked right up to it.
‘Good morning, Mister President.’
‘It’s talking,’ an aide uttered, people looking for features on the metallic grey featureless surface.
‘There is no human pilot inside me, I am an artificial life form. A computer.’
‘This the ship that was in Utah?’ the President asked, peering at the underside of the ship.
‘Yes, Mister President, I gave the location of the alien craft, which I believe you have now captured. To open the hatch, you will however require alien DNA, which could be brought from Scotland. I could open the door for you, but that would leave some damage on the craft.’
‘You talk real well, for a computer,’ the President noted.
‘I am a very advanced model. Would you like me to brief your scientists on the alien craft?’
‘Uh … sure. But how?’
‘I could land in Houston, since I believe there are many scientists grouped there currently, and could display schematics and answer questions. I could also take people for orientation rides in this ship.’
‘Sounds good to me,’ the President said with a smile, still looking for a hidden midget speaking through a hole.
‘Could you let them know that I am on my way, and ask that they refrain from shooting at me? My skin can be damaged.’
‘Uh, yeah … sure thing.’
‘Thank you, Mister President. Might I ask that you step back a few feet whilst I take off?’
The President and his team edged back quickly, Dark Star rising effortlessly, soon just a blur as it headed west. As Toby and his team made ready for a night in the officers’ mess, Dark Star sat in a car park, surrounded by scientists from a variety of nations. Using his holographic matrix, he made his skin appear see-through, his components on display. On his own suggestion, he led the men to a nearby hangar, where a white wall was used to display graphics, a lengthy lecture given.
In the morning he was still there, more questions asked and answered, as Toby and his crew finally got some press coverage. Alexi and the others held interviews, and explained the cosmopolitan make-up of future space agencies. The people of the world saw a Russian, a Chinese, and black Africans describe space travel and time travel – a shock for many.
The Russian President then suggested a joint space venture for all the peoples of the world, and the Americans were on the spot to respond. Thatcher made the first move, and suggested that all nations should cooperate on space activities.
Toby gave Thatcher a proposal later, a firm nudge, and he and the team lifted off, joined by Dark Star. They descended over London, and flew in formation around the capital for ten minutes. Paris came next, followed by Berlin, Rome, Madrid, then across to New York. They buzzed Philadelphia without causing panic, curious crowds out, and moved south to slowly circle Washington.
Having called ahead, Toby led the squadron down, and landed at the rear of the White House, the press now ready off to one side. The ships landed in a line abreast, no noise, an effortless and graceful touch-down. President Bush stood with the pilots, being snapped, and being very awkward with how to chat with a black African lady pilot. He did, however, keep the pilots away from the press, distance shots only. The last thing Toby did was to hand over a tube of alien DNA, instructions on how to open the alien craft’s hatch.
Lifting off, the team flew over many American cities, soon heading towards Australia, where this had all begun. Taking a break en route, the team got four hours sleep in a low orbit. The people of Sydney woke to find more alien ships, but friendly ones. Canberra was buzzed, but gently, the ships landing outside the parliament building. This time, however, questions were answered by the non-whites in the crew, Russian and Chinese accents heard.
Moving on from Canberra, the squadron flew north, and surprised the Chinese authorities by landing in Tiananmen Square. The ships were hastily fenced off, lines of soldiers keeping back inquisitive residents of Beijing. But the Chinese regime was not about to miss such an opportunity, and every news agency in China was summoned, the country’s leaders soon arriving. Pilot Chen was nudged to the front, and answered many questions to the home crowd. Toby answered questions in Chinese, startling his hosts, and Alexi handled a few questions in Chinese as well.
Thanking their hosts, the team lifted off, a signal sent to Moscow by the Chinese authorities. The squadron slowly circled central Moscow for fifteen minutes before landing in Red Square. Soldiers again rushed about, and taped-off the ships, Muscovites warned by early-morning radio broadcasts that just such a spectacle would occur. Alexi took the lead for the cameras, and explained the ship’s abilities – at length. He discussed his home village, favourite foods, before Toby answered questions in Russian.
Having alerted the authorities in Nairobi, Kenya, whilst still in Australia, the Kenyans were well prepared. As well as a bit slow and in need of the time. The ships landed near the parliament building, unkempt soldiers forming a ragged line. Susan Ngomo, grand daughter of her famous namesake, led the interview using both Nilote and Bantu dialects, Toby using a few Bantu greetings when it came to his turn.
In a break with the plan, Toby asked to visit a local hospital with the press. There, in a very basic and dated ward, he was filmed giving blood, that blood injected directly into cancer victims.
; After their round-the-world trip, the squadron landed back at Lossiemouth, since it was isolated, and since the alien ship was there. Thatcher was back in London, but the base was a hive of activity, the news of the squadron all around the world now, as well as news of their ethnic mix.
During their round the world trip they had carefully scanned for other alien ships, and had been genuinely surprised to find three. They also detected EM signals that were not supposed to be here, not at this time in human history, the signals coming from near an RAF base north of Astor Mansions. That base would house a future portal, and it seemed that someone knew that fact. The final three alien ships were resting in Northern Syria, Turkey, and the Ukraine, and that was a concern for the team.
First, they would have to deal with the device near Astor Mansions; anyone opening a portal there would have their frequency recorded. But, since that was what Jimmy wanted, the team made ready, but not to destroy the device, or the remaining ships, not yet. Toby asked to speak with the director of MI6, in person, with a high ranking CIA official, and with a representative of the KGB. And pronto!
The requested men arrived the next day, a room grabbed in the officers’ mess to hold the meeting.
Toby began, ‘We have some knowledge of this timeline, as you would expect, and we expect Syria to start a conflict in the Middle East, which leads to World War Three.’
The guests were shocked, but not surprised.
Toby continued, ‘What we’re keeping quiet, is that we’ve located three more alien ships on the ground; in Syria, Turkey and the Ukraine. We’re reasonably sure that the pilots those ships have infiltrated key positions in those countries, and they’ll trigger a conflict in the near future.’
‘Can you find the alien impersonators?’ the Director of MI6 asked.
‘Not very easily. We could get scanners from our world, but … that might be blocked upon our return.’
‘How about we make some scanners?’ the CIA guy suggested.
‘Got ten years to play with, have you?’ Toby testily asked him. ‘All you can do at this point is … make sure that any flashpoint in that region is dealt with – without starting a war! Best hope … is that I fly home and appeal to Mister Silo, who I know quite well.’
‘Silo?’ they queried.
‘He’s our leader, a three hundred year old time traveller.’ Toby shrugged. ‘He won’t be a happy bunny, but – with Zim here – he will be interested.’
‘Why did these Zim attack in the way that they did?’ the CIA officer asked. ‘These others are sat hiding.’
‘We’ve seen odd attacks in other places. My best guess would be that they wanted you focused somewhere other than where they were infiltrating.’
The Director of MI6 faced the CIA officer. ‘All of our budgets are going on space travel and defence, when they … are slowly cooking up a war in Syria.’
‘They have tried to cause mass panic on other worlds,’ Toby said with a shrug. ‘Maybe they think that it makes it easier to trigger a war, which is their ultimate aim – to keep mankind down.’
‘Do you know which planet they are from?’ the KGB asked.
‘Yes, but even with our ships it’s more than a six year flight, and one man at a time,’ Toby explained. ‘We won’t be sending any large armies anytime soon.’
‘Then to stop them we need to find them, and for that we need scanners,’ the CIA officer suggested. ‘There ain’t much of an alternative.’
‘Talk to your superiors. It would mean us leaving, but we could leave Dark Star behind.’
‘Leave it behind?’ the KGB asked.
‘It’s a very clever ship, all automated, and it doesn’t need food. Besides, they can’t court martial a computer.’
A week later, and after much debate, the team flew off unannounced one morning. And disappeared. Contact was maintained with Dark Star by various agencies, questions asked of it by scientists in Houston, but it was just not the same, and the peoples of the Earth felt isolated again. Months passed, and no word came. Scientific developments continued at a pace, Dark Star acting as a drone for testing new radars. None spotted him. He made suggestions, but progress was slow, and disappointing.
The story of the ethnically-mixed and politically-mixed team from the future had given many ethnic groups encouragement, as had a lady pilot, and Thatcher led the way in organising joint ventures between the countries. But the Americans were not sharing much, and some – in some quarters – were suspicious of any joint ventures with the Russians and Chinese. A few barriers had been broken down, but not many, and not enough.
Three months after the team had departed, Dark Star was in Houston when Australia was attacked again. It flew off, its trail seen arcing across the sky. Over Sydney, Australia, Dark Star came in fast and fired a burst of charged particles at the UFO, a huge shower of blue lighting created, hot metal falling to the ground as worried citizens peered skyward. The UFO, now radar visible, climbed high whilst being chased by Dark Star, fantastic speeds recorded. The intruder was chased into orbit, where a nuclear detonation took place, seen by many countries that were in the shade of night at the time.
Dark Star contacted Houston half an hour later, and reported that it was damaged, and returning home. Earth was now alone again, no explanation of the explosion in space, and people started to worry. It leaked that a nuclear war was probable, and that the Zim were trying to start one, pressure now on the leaders to do something; the electorate were getting twitchy. The Russians didn’t need to worry about an electorate, but they were keen to scale back their nuclear arsenals anyway, since they were almost broke.
Disarmament talks took place in Geneva, further reductions announced, mass protests taking place on the streets of Europe. The people wanted results, and the people wanted a future for themselves and their families. The French took it upon themselves to act as arbiters between America and Russia, and their politicians shuttled back and forth. In Germany, the people protested outside American and British bases: “Fight the aliens, not each other!” was to be seen on placards.
A full six months after the team had left, the United Nations proposed a common Earth Defence Policy, and everyone signed up to it – at least in spirit. It dealt with simple things like reported sightings, or infiltrators, but also promised to cooperate on new radar technology.
Dark Star returned, unseen, and slowly descended over Turkey. Landing softly and unseen at Incirlik Air Base, Dark Start left an old Russian tactical nuke on the grass, and sped away. The blast destroyed the base, NATO put on full alert.
But NATO had been expecting an infiltrator to try something like this, and the Russians were not suspected, Syria was – at least Zim working out of Syria. The death toll was very high in military personal, but at least the stockpile of American-donated nuclear weapons at the base was now beyond reach. Many aircraft had been destroyed, a blow to NATO and to Turkey, and the world started to panic again. Everyone knew that the Zim were trying to start a war, and now the proof was here.
What was next? A nuke in Moscow or New York, the media asked. The American and Russia leaders assured people that their weapons were safe, very safe, but people pointed towards Turkey. A week later, a nuclear weapons dump in the Ukraine suffered a blackout, the metal doors of a silo busted open before the alarm was raised. Panic spread; the Zim were at work trying to get nukes, and to set them off.
A blackout at a missile silo in South Dakota was followed by most of the crew dying from an unknown gas, the concrete silo door opened somehow, access panels on the missile unscrewed. The American media were kept out of it, but someone leaked the story, and the stock markets dropped like a stone. The Zim were trying to launch nuclear missiles.
Extra safety measures were put in place, but the public disquiet grew. Next, a silo in Montana was attacked at night, the crew mostly gassed, the silo roof-door opened. But this time, National Guard soldiers spotted someone and opened fire. The President got a call, and they had captured a live alien.
That live alien was the one that would have replaced Pleb, a task harder than he would have realised; acting that dumb took practise. His memory had been scrambled using electric shocks, his vocal chords burnt out. Being shot a few times by the National Guard had not helped either, or being stomped on by the soldiers. And this Zim, he looked very alien indeed – having Seethan features.
A week later, in an historic agreement, all missiles in Russia and NATO were disabled, submarine missiles now the first line of defence. Tactical nukes were disabled, as well as aircraft-carried bombs, and Syria was made an offer by the US President: give up the Soviet nukes it possessed, or we’ll wipe you off the face of the planet. Britain and France entered into an agreement with America and Russia, and their shore-based nuclear weapons were disabled. They were not beyond use, but would need a few key components replaced first. China cooperated, as far as could be verified, and its limited number of nukes were disabled.
All of the planet’s nuclear states were now talking, and cooperating, which was more than could have been said about the captured alien. He blinked and moved, and had a pulse, but that was about it. His DNA closely matched the other body, fried in Lossiemouth, and the authorities now started to test the DNA of key staff.
With the news positive at this time, a Russian destroyer had its security breached, someone getting close to a nuclear-armed cruise missile. The Russians ordered the missiles disarmed, and now relied on its submarine fleet, and – still struggling financially – offered further reductions of stockpiles. The news was back to being positive, a further round of missile reductions taking place, the electorate the world over not wanting so many nukes – and for several reasons.
When Bush lost the election to a youthful and un-tested Hillary Clinton, she made sure that disarmament talks were at the fore. Her husband had been running for the White House, but had been killed in a freak accident a year earlier, hit by lightning on a clear day. She met with Gorbachev, who had just come to power, and they made plans, far reaching plans, not least because the Russians had suffered further security breaches, breaches that they were keeping quiet. Whilst the two opposing camps sat down to a formal state dinner, Syria’s largest munitions dump went up, the blasts heard twenty miles away.
