Invasion

He scowled and returned to the reports on his desk. The President’s decision to appoint him defence coordinator for the United States, in the event of an alien invasion, had been an inspired one, in his opinion. If he’d had an unlimited budget and a few years, he could have ensured the entire world’s safety against the alien starship, all one hundred kilometres of it. He had barely two weeks left before the alien craft reached Earth orbit and, in that time, he knew that there wasn’t going to be any new technology for deployment. America – and the rest of the world – had to work with what was on the shelf, and he knew, better than anyone else, that the cupboard was almost bare. It was ironic; he was, in effect, a General…with hardly any forces under his command.

The deployment of THAAD missiles, including the latest configuration designed for satellite interception – as well as a limited BMD role – was proceeding apace. Unfortunately, the United States had agreed to a cap in the number of viable ASAT missiles after China had deployed a working ASAT system of its own, and while production had been intensified, he knew that there weren’t going to be more than a few hundred missiles at most by the time the aliens arrived. Patriot missile batteries and Air Defence Artillery had been deployed around the country, linked into a ground-based communications system that would allow their efforts to be coordinated even if the satellites were lost, but again…he wasn't convinced of their effectiveness. He’d attempted to get the shuttles rigged up as gunships, but only one shuttle was available and that craft had already been assigned to a role, ferrying the diplomats to the ISS. He hadn’t even tried to have the ISS armed; the consortium operating the station would never have agreed to have it armed to the teeth.

On the ground, matters were a little better, despite the chaos. The Army had been called up and had been deployed around the country, while air assets had been dispersed to avoid a single lucky hit taking out entire squadrons of fighters. The National Guards and the Reserves had been called up as well – if nothing else, it was a fascinating exercise – and deployed in defensive positions, but he had his doubts as to how useful the entire exercise would be. The rest of the world was doing the same – he’d read a report that warned that the bulk of the French Army had been deployed near Paris, in case the aliens landed there – but he suspected that it was just whistling in the wind. They’d prepared, as best as they could, for the worst case scenario…and he couldn’t help feeling that that was exactly what would happen.

***

“Mr President, Ambassador Prachthauser is here to see you.”

“Thank you, Irene,” the President said. He’d spent the morning, as he had almost every day since the alien starship had been detected, in conference with different world leaders and almost welcomed the interruption. The larger countries tended to be carefully choosing their options, but the smaller countries – and the UN – were publicly buying into all kinds of tales of alien benevolence, acting as if the new millennium was about to begin. The UN debates on the alien starship had gotten nowhere fast, but the President knew that many of the smaller countries had no reason to view the alien arrival with caution. “Please send him in.”

Ambassador Francis Prachthauser was a tall dignified man, barely entering his forties, with dark hair that somehow gave an expression of length. He had a very empathic face; the President had known him during his election campaign and had been impressed by how well he’d handled people who might have been a problem. He’d offered Francis the post of Ambassador to the Court of King James – Britain – as a gesture of thanks…and a highly practical measure. It was the most significant Embassy in the world, outside Russia and China.

“Mr President,” Francis said, with a half-bow. “That was a very…entertaining flight.”

The President smiled. He’d given orders for Francis to be picked up by an F-15 aircraft from one of the bases in Britain. Speed was of the essence now that there was a working consensus, between the larger powers, on how to proceed. It wasn’t as if the remainder of the world could prevent America, Russia, Europe and China from proceeding, but the whole affair could leave a bad taste in their mouths.

“I hope that you enjoyed it,” he said, settling back into his chair and waving Francis to one of the smaller chairs. “Do you know what this is about?”

“The aliens,” Francis said, proving again that he wasn't a fool. Even the President wouldn’t order a fast-jet fighter aircraft used as a transport, even for an Ambassador, unless it was urgent. “I assume that you have some role in mind for me regarding the aliens?”

The President nodded. “How would you like to go up to Earth orbit and meet them?”

Francis stared at him. Deep inside, where no one could see, there had once been dreams of flying into space. “Are you serious?”