Alien Affairs

November 16

Carrie watched the news coverage of rioting in ghettos and barrios across the country. Whole neighborhoods burned while the National Guard, for the most part, only attempted to confine the violence to places where it erupted. Georgetown was quiet. Demonstrators in DC restricted their marches to the Mall and in front of the White House. Crowds carried signs around Red Square and at Piccadilly. Peaceful crowds carried candles in Chapultepec and at Tiananmen Square violent demonstrators protested the ‘one child rule.’ Carrie decided it was time to call Deshler.

“Come.”

“Come, Deshler, how was the moon?”

“Very empty except for some debris you apparently left there. How long ago did you go there?”

“More than forty years ago,” she answered feeling sad to say it. “Our priorities have changed since those days.”

“You sound as though you do not approve.”

“I do not. We were a better people then. Does your society go through changes?”

“We are completely stable.”

“That is good I guess if you are stabilized in the right place.”

“Yes, I suppose you know that my colleagues are still not willing to delay.”

“Yes, thank you for trying. Do you monitor our radio transmissions?”

“We do not. None of us speak any of your many languages.”

“Our entire planet is in turmoil because of you.”

“It would have been better not to know.”

“Perhaps, but we are not a species that will give up without a fight.”

“Meaning you are still intent on attacking us.”

“Absolutely. Would you not do the same if situations were reversed?”

“Yes, of course. We will not take it personally, but alas, you will fail.”

“How will you defend yourselves?” she ventured.

She heard laughter. “Even if you could comprehend the technology, you could not overcome it.”

“Well, then, may the better species win. So what comes next?”

“We will drift closer to your planet and move into position to deploy the aerosols. Then we will cache the second doses and depart. I will miss our conversations.”

“So will I. Could you not convince your people to give us a day or two more to talk?”

“I am sure that I cannot.”

“What is the incubation period of your virus?”

“Two or three of your day cycles. You should urge your offspring to conceive immediately.”

“I’ll mention it to her. Do your records indicate that there was ever a great flood that killed a large part of the population?”

“That I know without research. There was a period of tremendous glaciation, as you must know, at the end of which melt water was contained behind ice dams that eventually broke. The sudden release of immense bodies of water trapped large sections of the population. This was in the pre-technology era.”

Carrie decided to play the clone card. “Since you know that we are capable of engineering asexual reproduction, does that not make your plan futile?”

“It was thought that you might have developed that potential, so the virus was designed to render your female reproductive tract unsuitable for carrying a fetus to term.”

“So even if my daughter conceives, she cannot deliver a baby?”

“She might be able to carry to term. The effect on the test subjects was the cessation of their regular cycles. This was told to me but I have little understanding of your reproductive systems.”

“What you are telling me is that your virus will induce menopause on females of childbearing age.”

“If you say so.”

“Want to look into another mystery for me, Deshler?”

“Certainly, Carrie Player, I am glad to answer what questions I am able.”

“An ancient culture has a legend that they were visited by beings from a star system that we call Sirius who told them things about the star system that primitive people could not have discovered on their own. Specifically that there is a second star orbiting Sirius A that we now know is really there. We call it Sirius B. The mystery is how the Dogon people found out about an invisible star.”

“Send me a location for these Dogon people and the time period.

“While you are consulting reference material, I will send the location of a standing stone monument. We would like to know who built it.”

“Very, well. Going.”

“Going.”

Carrie handed a printout of the latest conversation to her team. They fell to reading it and in a moment Paul said, “This is great. You’ve got him to reveal a way that we could work around the problem.”

“You mean the menopause thing?” Jan asked.

“Yeah, I think we should be able to hormonally make women capable of carrying a fetus. Haven’t there been cases of post-menopausal mothers carrying a baby for their daughters?” he said.

Carrie said, “That sounds familiar, but we don’t know how much damage to the uterus this is going cause.”

“It’s a ray of hope,” Jan said.

Eddy said, “Why not implant embryos in gorillas?”

“Eddy, that’s gross,” Carrie said. “Anybody know how I explain which star is Sirius A?”

“I’ll get you what you need,” Eddy said. “My cousin is an astronomer.”

Eddy forwarded his cousin’s email to her. It was Greek to Carrie but she faithfully copied the figures to Deshler along with the coordinates of Mali and earth years before present. Then she added location and time period for Stonehenge.

Director Turnbull called. “Carrie, that was gold. We’ve got every fertility expert in the world working on ways to reverse menopause.”

“Even if we succeed we have to consider that they’ll just blow us up.”

“Deshler wouldn’t do that to his girlfriend. NASA has some bad news, though. They’ve parked in earth orbit a hundred and twenty degrees apart.”

“SpaceX’s worst nightmare,” Carrie said.

“Yep, and they still aren’t ready to launch. You have to stall them.”

“Give me something to use.”

“Call Gibbs.”

Gibbs was unavailable. Overton said, “Try to get him to meet with you.”

“He says we smell bad.”

“Tell him you’ll wear a spacesuit.”

“You’ve got to do better.”

“He likes answering your history riddles. Ask him about Atlantis.”

“You’re not really trying,” she said.

“You’re not giving me much to work with. Get back on the phone and find his Achilles heel.”

Carrie slammed the receiver and shook. She heard Deshler’s ringtone. “Come,” she said.

“Come.” There was no noticeable delay. “Carrie Player, I have interesting information. There is evidence of contact made by a busybody species from the star system you call Sirius. We have very old records of contact with them. They were said to be meddlesome and repulsive. Our belief is that they became extinct eons ago.”

“Did you cause their extinction?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Oh, no reason.”

“The story of the standing stones is singular. It represents the most egregious case of interference with your species after you had acquired sentience. The presence of a monument at the place near your prime meridian was noted and observed for several thousand years. It evolved from wooden columns to smallish stone columns. This fascinated one of our researchers to the extent that the miscreant, who spoke your ancestors’ language, made contact and befriended the leader of the human group who begged assistance in making the monument what you know today. This was strongly frowned upon and the perpetrator castigated.”

“So your predecessor placed the stones?”

“Apparently.”

“Well, thank you for that. People will find that intriguing. So you are in orbit now. When do plan to do your dirty work?”

“Soon. You will no doubt overhear us planning the release. When will your attack occur?”

“As soon as you approach the atmosphere.”

“This will be most amusing.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate us, Deshler.”

“We have detected an artificial satellite of considerable size. Is it occupied by humans?”

Carrie froze. “What will you do if it is?” she asked hesitantly.

“That is a problem we will have to discuss. If there are fertile specimens within, we may have no option but to destroy it. That is unless you can convince the occupants to return to the surface.”

“I will need some time to see if the government will return them to earth.” She committed to the fact that the space station was indeed manned.

“How much time, Carrie Player?”

“Five rotation cycles and then it may take some time to send a craft to get them.”

“I must discuss this with the others. Listen for your answer. Going.”

“Going.” She slumped in her chair for a few seconds before she dialed the director.

“Anything new?” Director Turnbull said.

“They may give us a few more days. Can you arrange for me to get a live feed of their next internal communication?” Carrie asked.

“Sure, I’ll make a call. What did you say that got through to them?”

“I told them we would try to bring everyone down from the space station so they don’t have to blow it up.”

“You stuck your neck out there,” Turnbull said. “The Russians will never agree to that.”

“I know but if it gives SpaceX a few more days we stand a chance.”

“Right. I’ll get you that feed. Call me as soon as you hear what they decide.”

Less than thirty minutes later her phone rang. The caller ID read Very Large Array. She answered and heard Deshler explaining her request to his two counterparts. A new voice said, “Deshler, you are becoming sentimental toward this human.” Carrie could not repress a laugh.

Deshler said, “Maybe, but it is not in our orders to needlessly kill them.”

“Let us neither kill them nor delay our mission. We can take the humans in the satellite to the surface,” the second voice said.

Carrie heard voice number three say, “That is the best solution. Tell your paramour to have the satellite’s occupants come out in pressure suits.”

“They may attack after you discharge the humans.”

“They cannot touch us.”

“I would not underestimate them.”

“If you lack sufficient hormonal fortitude, Deshler, you are welcome to remain in orbit.”

“I will ask Carrie Player what the humans prefer,” Deshler said, then, “Going.” The signal went to dead air. Immediately she heard The Twilight Zone.

“Come.”

“Come, Carrie Player. Did you hear the decision of my colleagues?”

“I did. Do you understand that our planet is divided into political entities that we call countries?”

“Yes, I know the concept.”

“The space station is occupied by citizens of several countries. One of them is very adversarial toward my country. They will probably not cooperate.”

“Then we will regretfully have no choice but to destroy them.”

“All I can do is pass your message to our leaders. I will call you when I have an answer.”

“Do not take longer than one planetary rotation, Carrie Player. Going.”

“Going.”

“Shit,” she thought as she waited for Georgia Turnbull to answer the phone.

“What did they decide?” the director asked without greeting.

“They want to bring the astronauts to earth themselves.”

“How the hell can they do that? Surely they can’t dock.”

“They expect them to wait outside in spacesuits like it’s a damn bus stop, or else they blow the space station out of the sky.”

“Christ! Putin will never agree.”

“At least we can get the Americans and Europeans out.”

“Get your coat. You’re going with me to the White House. We may need to have a negotiation in real time.”

Carrie sighed. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

In the limo the director called her contact at NASA. When she finished the call, she said, “There are two Americans, a Canadian and an Italian in the space station besides three cosmonauts and the six hookers. It’s really crowded. Too many for the escape pod.”

The president was in a meeting with a delegation of sharia law proponents. “Interrupt him,” Georgia Turnbull barked at the aide.

Carrie heard the president’s angry voice. The aide exited the Oval Office and quickly disappeared. A few seconds later the president emerged looking testy. “Yes, Director, what is it?”

“Mr. President, the International Space Station is on the verge of being destroyed with everyone in it. You need to call Putin.”

“Madam Director, I do not need to be told what to do.”

“This is no time for an attitude. If Russia has the resources to bring everybody down, you have to convince him to do it otherwise the aliens want to ferry them back to earth―an idea I’m not very comfortable with. If they don’t get their answer fast, they’re just going to blow it up.”

“Wait here,” he said.

“Explain that if Russia can’t bring everybody down the aliens want all of them to come out in spacesuits and get into their craft,” Turnbull said.

The president grunted and left in the direction of his private residence. He was gone for over thirty minutes. When he returned he looked acerbic. “He says they need at least a week to get a rocket ready and it will only hold six people. Furthermore, they sent the civilian women without spacesuits.”

“Oh, for Christ sake. How reckless is that?” Carrie interjected.

The president glared at her. “Putin says they didn’t have time to make suits to fit them.”

“Well, there’s going to be six dead hookers in space. Another first for the Russians,” Carrie said, this time drawing a scowl from both.

“Well, now what?” the director said.

“When Deshler hears the situation I suppose he’ll insist on bringing down everybody who’s willing and able then shooting down the space station. Shall I phone him now?”

The president brightened. “Yeah, go ahead. Can you put him on the speaker?”

Carrie grimaced but dialed.

“Come.”

“Come, Deshler. I’m with the leader of our country who just spoke to the leader of the only country that can bring the people in the satellite back to earth. But they need ten rotations to prepare their ship and can’t take all the occupants in one trip.”

“My colleagues are impatient. They will all have to exit the satellite in pressure suits, then we can take them to the surface in one of our craft.”

“Not all the occupants have pressure suits.”

“How irresponsible can you be?”

“It wasn’t our country. The people called the Russians are more reckless than we are.”

“A pity, Carrie Player. We would prefer not to have to destroy any of your species.”

“Would humans survive in the atmosphere of your ship without their pressure suits?”

“Yes, but the smell would be intolerable.”

Carrie shook her head. “Deshler, be reasonable. You can suffer a little to save their lives. One person could take back pressure suits for the remainder of the occupants. You could stuff your nasal holes with wax.”

Deshler laughed. “Carrie Player, you are a most persuasive female. I will do it but my shipmates will be most disturbed with me.”

“See, Deshler, I knew you were a good alien,” she said smiling. “Call me when you are ready to do it. Going.”

“Going.”

She tapped end and looked at the director and president as if they understood what transpired.

The president said, “That was amazing. I heard the actual voice of an alien. What did he say that made you smile?”

“He said I am a persuasive female, then he agreed to take the seven with spacesuits into his ship, six can take off their suits and the seventh can take them back for the hookers. But he doesn’t like the idea.”

“But you talked him into it?”

“Deshler and I are tight.”

Georgia Turnbull said, “That’s sweet. When is this going to go down?”

“He’ll call when he’s ready so we should tell them what to expect right now.”

“I’ll call NASA on the way back to Langley.”