AmEarth

The first family of AmEarth sat at the massive dining room table with all the elegance of a state dinner. It was just the four of them, but for a cadre of servants in elegant attire that served them each course. Brianna looked as beautiful as ever, but she kept pulling out her wafer and texting Camilla. Scott was rummaging through his food, lacking an appetite, and looked troubled and silent. Barbara was happy to have them all in one room, as this was becoming increasingly rare. Peter ate heartily, but was absent-minded, thinking of the latest directive and the fallout from it.

“Dad, I need to talk to you. Alone,” Scott finally piped up.

“Sure. After dinner?” Peter replied nonchalantly.

“Fine.”

“Dad?” Brianna opened.

“Yes, honey?” Peter said.

“I need to talk to you alone.”

“What?” Barbara said, unsure of what was happening at the table.

“Bri, stop bothering your brother.” Peter read the situation properly and reacted swiftly.

Somehow, college had given Scott an instant level of maturity that Brianna disliked. They finished their dinner, and Scott followed his dad up the stairs to the TV room. They sat down on the beautiful plush couch and a waiter approached them, asking if they’d like coffee or a snack. Peter ordered chocolate popcorn. As soon as the waiter left, Scott began.

“Dad, I hate to confront you, but I can’t keep going like this.”

“Like what?” Peter asked, concerned.

“With you pretending not to know.”

“Not to know what, son?”

“That the alien race isn’t real. That it’s all been a hoax.”

“What are you talking about? What’s gotten into you? I thought you knew better than that.”

“Dad, I do. Believe me…I do, but you’re the president, and I’m supposed to believe that you don’t know that life on Kepler 3763 is 4e whi 3251heitur that you don’t know that Ramirez-Bulatov designed the alien race like movie characters! Or that the explosion over Poland was our own nuclear bomb! Come on, Dad!”

“Scott, slow down. Please believe me when I tell you this. I have some doubts about the alien race as well. You’ve put those doubts there. I’ve been very concerned about what you have been saying. But even talking like this is…punishable by the state. And you’re my son. I need you to tell me who has been feeding you this nonsense. Or at least tell me why you’re so sure. You’re a smart kid, so I would expect some verification.”

Peter was shocked that his son knew Ramirez-Bulatov’s name. He had just hugged him as the savior of the population control directive. He didn’t make a single gesture and kept his cool, not allowing Scott to sense the new doubt that had just landed on him.

“No one is telling me anything, Dad. This has all been my own research. It all started with the landing in Bolivia. Honest. I haven’t told anyone but you.”

“Scott, I’m worried.” The president’s face had taken on a dark tone. He knew that he and his son were in dangerous waters. Being the supreme president didn’t feel all that secure or omnipotent at the moment.

“Do me a favor. Let’s just have a talk like two adults, understanding and listening to each other. Can you do that with me? Ignoring the fact that I’m your son?”

“I suppose I can do that.”

“Okay, then suppose for argument’s sake that this particular alien threat is a hoax, made up by America to conquer the world? Let’s just suppose that.”

“Okay, let’s say that’s the case…” Peter agreed, but his voice was hesitant.

“So, to make the hoax work, they need to do three main things: One, scare the world with a common and powerful enemy that will unite the human race. Aliens are perfect for this. Two, they need to craft the enemy realistically and fake extraterrestrial landings. A talented unknown art director fits that bill. And three, they need to find a seldom-viewed planet at the precise distance to make the whole theory work based on our past timeline of events. Rewrite history.”

“That seems pretty straightforward, Scott. But in fact, all of that would be very difficult. Are you saying that AmEarth is some great conspiracy, hidden even from me? Think about that!”

“Well, do you believe that aliens exist on Kepler 3763 and that they are sending thirty-five-year-old nuclear bombs because of Ronald Reagan? You’re willing to believe that instead?”

“I do.”

“You don’t look like it.”

“I promise you this, Scott. I will personally investigate the allegations that you’ve mentioned—discreetly and without alerting anyone. If you are correct, then we still might need to keep this under wraps. I’m sure you understand why. We risk losing all of this, and I mean us. Not the world losing AmEarth, but us losing our lives. We could be charged for this. I could lose the job just as easily as I got it, and then what? How are we going to convince anyone of what you’re saying? You need to keep quiet and let me investigate on my own. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir.”

“Now, let’s see what we can see on the TV to take our minds off all of this. I need to rest.”

“Dad, I’m going to go back to school tonight.”

“Come on, Scott, just watch something with me.”

“Okay, but something new, please. None of that black-and-white stuff you like.”

“You’re so ignorant of the big picture, Scott. I’ve failed you as a parent,” Peter joked.

“Look who’s talking!” Scott snapped back, and they both laughed.

“Touché, son…touché.”