Nathan smiled grimly. His nerves at confronting such a high-powered audience had mostly settled down, but the video and the stark memory it brought up had set them jangling once more. Still, there was no alternative, no choice. The project needed him here, on their turf, in the basement of the Capitol itself. He needed to do this and do it well, both for Gordon’s memory and for their own potential survival.
“Ladies and gentlemen, all telemetry ends soon after the conclusion of the video-stream. We must assume that the Promise was either destroyed or was captured for study. The radar and lidar telemetry, as well as the passive sensor data support what the video shows for the most part.” Nathan clicked his remote again, changing the diagram to one of the Deltan ship-system. “The aliens travel in a convoy of sorts, with their ships in orbit around their main drive. It looks a bit like a miniature solar system, with the vessels laid out almost perfectly on the classic Lagrange points, but the drive is not a star, and the vessels are not planets.
“The drive is the largest component, a constrained sphere of plasma approximately 1000 kilometers in diameter, emitting a photon reaction thrust along one polar axis. The vessels all maintain a circular orbit around the equator of the drive, at a radius of approximately 800 kilometers, held there by some mix of electromagnetic fields, gravity, and possibly some undetectable forces.
“The vessels are as follows,” he said, highlighting each in turn with a click of the control. “The control ship. The junkyard. The cathedral. And the polyp. The control ship is the smallest at twenty kilometers in diameter, and the others are all about the same size at 45 kilometers each. We don’t know the purpose behind any of them, or why their designs all vary so greatly. All we know is that the control ship seems to take an active role in controlling the drive and the rotation of the convoy, and that it collected all the debris from the Promise’s sub-probes. Presumably, it gathered up the probe itself after it stopped transmitting.”
Nathan set down the control and looked over the darkened assembly. “That’s pretty much all we can say about the rendezvous. You each have full briefing packets before you which cover the video and telemetry analysis in greater detail. If you have any questions, please ask, but remember that all we know is there in the briefing. Anything else is nothing more than pure speculation, at least until Promise II makes its rendezvous. That includes conjecture over whether or not this was an overtly hostile act, whether it was some form of defense, or even if this was just a common, innocent reaction that we’re simply misinterpreting. We won’t know the answers to those questions until we are in direct contact. Now, given that, are there any questions before I continue with current ops plans and any future initiatives?”
The lights in the room came up somewhat, and he now faced a room peppered with expressions ranging from shock, to incredulity, to fear, and to amusement. He scanned over the room of darkly polished wood and brushed steel, hoping there would be no redirect, that he could continue before his confidence had a chance to falter, but in a room filled with people who were paid to pontificate, there was little chance of that.
One senator stood in the third tier, behind the cabinet members, but Nathan did not recognize him. He nodded to the man, wishing again for a set of congressional flash cards or at least some brighter placards, and then sat. The tall, stately, white-haired gentleman from Nebraska looked somewhat adrift, but he flashed his most challenging glare and addressed Nathan directly, though his comments were meant for the crowd. “Aliens. You gathered us together, interrupted our very tight schedules, shoved a bunch of spurious charts and analyses in front of us for … what? For aliens?”
Nathan responded from his seat at the table heading up the assembly. “Yes, Senator. I know it’s asking a lot. I, myself, didn’t really believe for years, but none of us now have the luxury of time to indulge our doubts. Unfortunately, you need to get on board almost immediately. There are decisions that have to be made, and you folks are the only ones that can make them.”
The senator just shook his head. “The Deltan invasion has long been the province of charlatans, madmen, and the ignorantly paranoid. But now that you have your little movie and your charts, you expect us to join up with the conspiracy theorists and just open the coffers to you? I really don’t think so. How do we even know this telemetry is real—that your probe is real?”
Nathan started to speak, but a hand closed over his own to stop him. Lydia Russ sat beside him, holding him still with a look. Instead, she rose gracefully to her feet, standing as the newly appointed head of Windward Inc., as decreed within Gordon's updated will. “Senator James, do we really need to start grandstanding in here? This brief is above Top Secret. None of your constituents will ever see it. C-SPAN Six won’t be covering any part of it. There will be no sound bites, and no lobbying. Today is about planning and policy, not politicking.
“Now, how exactly do you think we even got you all in this room today? Was it because of my winning personality? Because I’m a veteran Beltway Bandit? Perhaps out of belated respect for my predecessor and friend, a man who gave so much to this nation? Not likely in this crowd. No, we did it by proving the data, to the satisfaction of the DOD, NASA, and top minds in the fields of science and industry. If you would have bothered to open your briefing, you’d have noted that every bit of it has been vetted and verified already.
“The probe was real—we have video of its launch, as well as eye-witness testimony from our own naval ships. The telemetry is real—it was received by numerous tracking stations who will each confirm that it was transmitted from deep space. And though it’s possible that we could have performed some sort of Hollywood magic to show the rendezvous, the briefing package will clearly show that is not the case. It’s all reaclass="underline" the probe, the data, and the aliens, certified by your own top government experts.
“So denying the situation at this point is the equivalent of screaming to us that the Earth is flat or that Washington is a bastion of virtue—not only is it crazy, it’s naive, short-sighted, and a waste of time. Given the evidence we’ve presented, no one should have to stretch their credulity any more than we do for any other piece of actionable intel. Face it, this is our new reality, and we’re already late in confronting it. We simply don’t have the time for business-as-usual. I recommend you start accepting that and stop obstructing the business of this committee.”
Senator James opened and closed his mouth like a gasping fish a few times, but he soon noticed something important among his paperwork and he sat down quietly to examine it further. Nathan suppressed a grin and stood as Lydia sat. He looked at her. He could tell why Gordon had liked her so, why his will had appointed her as his successor. They were kindred spirits.
He turned back to the room. “Any other questions?”
The conference chamber was quiet for a moment, but eventually a congresswoman stood in the fourth tier of seats, smoothing her dress and capturing the room with her gaze. When all eyes were on her, she spoke. “Mr. Kelley, I just want to express what most of us here are probably feeling. This whole situation has taken us aback. I don’t want to be obstructionist, Ms. Russ, but briefing package or no, this is something that’s going to take some getting used to. There are questions that need to be asked, and we can’t even formulate them until we can get our minds around the basic situation.