“Welcome to the Soviet Union,” Stalin said. “My apologies for the barrage of anti-aircraft fire earlier.”
Stalin was a talented politician. One does not rise to that level of power without knowing when and how to use diplomacy. The fact that he was personally in the square, demonstrated to Nox that the leader of the Soviet Union was giving proper deference to the situation.
“I have come in peace. I do not wish to harm you or your people.” Nox made his first communication to the Soviet leader very simple and clear. He was aware that the demonstration of superior air power would cause the Soviets to be concerned.
“I am Joseph Stalin. I am the supreme leader of the Soviet Union. May I ask to whom I am speaking?”
“I am Nox Bellator. I am from the planet Botacoure, far from here. I have a proposal to make; one, I think will be mutually beneficial.”
“Would you like to come into the Senate Conference center to discuss your proposal?” The Soviet leader raised his hands, palms up, to signal peaceful intent.
“If you have your men lower their weapons, I would be happy to sit and discuss my concerns,” Nox said. He was not concerned that the soldiers could harm him. Five men armed with machine guns would be no match for his armor and particle beam incinerator.
With a hand motion from Stalin, the men lowered their weapons. “Please come this way,” he said.
It was a short walk to the Senate building. The magnificent structure was a mustard-colored, 18th century neo-classical building, with engaged columns partially built into the walls. Stalin led Nox into a large conference room. Unlike the outside of the building, which had been disguised to look unimportant, the conference room was a display of gaudy opulence. The walls were covered with thick, hand-carved wood, paneling arching up towards a vaulted ceiling. Gilded lamps sat upon marble-top furniture stationed against the walls. A large mahogany conference table sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by an army of high-back well-upholstered chairs. On the far side of the large room was a massive stone fireplace that reached up to the decorative ceiling. The floors were white marble, and the ceiling was hand painted with whimsical geometric shapes and colors.
Stalin walked to a chair near the door and pulled it out, “Please have a seat.”
“Thank you for your hospitality,” Nox said. Maybe this would be easier than he thought. Nox sat in a chair, it was a large with a high back and luxurious embroidery. The chair had to be strong, if his seven-foot frame clad in battle armor weighing nearly 500 pounds did not crush it.
Stalin sat in the chair directly across the conference table from Nox. Two guards with machine guns stood in the doorway, but the rest of Stalin’s entourage left the room.
Stalin, unaware of exactly how powerful Nox may be, was trying to be as polite and diplomatic as possible. “May I get you something to drink?”
“No, thank you,” said Nox, unsure as to whether Stalin would attempt to poison him. Nox’s battle armor could detect all known poisons, but there was no need to put that system to the test.
Nox continued, “I would like to form a treaty between your people and mine, a trade agreement of sorts.”
“I’m interested.” Stalin was sitting straight up, hands folded on the table, looking directly into Nox’s black eyes.
“I come from a planet far from here. I have technology that allows me to fly through space at incredible speeds. I possess weapons far beyond your wildest imagination. I can help your people build communication devices that will make your best radios and radars obsolete. I can assist you in rebuilding and advancing your infrastructure in a fraction of the time it would take you with your current equipment.”
Stalin nodded, “And what do you want in return?”
“I want to be appointed as General of the Russian Armed Forces, with access to all systems. I want to be the commanding officer over all the military installations in Moscow and I want all research and development under my command. I will operate in full secrecy; only a few of your highest-ranking officers will know of my existence. I will need to triple your research and development budget, and I will have sole discretion as to how to use it. My orders will be carried out by staff generals, so the rank-and-file are not aware of my existence. I will answer only to you, the supreme leader of the Soviet Union.”
Stalin took a deep breath. “You are asking me to turn over all control. You want to install yourself as supreme commander and make me a puppet. How can I trust you? How can I know that you will not overthrow me once I give you so much power?”
“A very good question, but there is a simple answer. I cannot rule your people. They would never trust or accept me as a leader. If they knew of my existence, they would revolt. That is why I must be kept in the shadows. I have no need for a regime change. I have no desire to enter into a world war. Hitler went against my wishes by pushing the world into a destructive war that destroyed much needed infrastructure. I want to build your planet into something new, something better, not decimate it with bombs.”
“How do I know you can deliver all of this?”
“For two hours, your air defenses were unable to stop me as I flew through your skies. What more demonstration do you need?”
“Your plane is impressive. I have no doubt that your craft is advanced far beyond anything in my air force. I can see your body armor is made of a substance unknown to me. I assume you did not walk into my Senate chamber unarmed, and yet, I see no weapon. Clearly, you are who you say you are, and I assume you have the means to inflict massive damage to my military. Yet, you are promising to deliver this technological advantage to me. Why?”
“It is true that I can assist you in rapid technological advances. But, I offer technology to you, not as a gift, but rather in trade. Botacoure is very far away, which makes resupply difficult. I have many craft, like the one sitting in your Square, but finding fuel and replacement parts is burdensome. I need to advance human technology and industry so that I can have the resources I need to maintain my equipment.”
Nox continued, “I am not asking for control of your military to take over your country. I am asking for control so that I can direct the research and development to create the technology I need. Your scientists and engineers are not advanced enough to handle this on their own. As I develop the technology I need, I will share it with you and your scientists. You will get better armor, better rockets, better warheads, better communication devices, better infrastructure, and equipment that will make it easier to spy on your enemies. I will give this to you because I need your cooperation in this partnership.”
“I would like a demonstration of what you can do for me.”
Nox stood and turned toward the door where they had entered the opulent room.
With his back to Stalin, and his hand on the chair that he was just sitting in, two shards of bright light flashed from the square box on the breast plate of his armor. Both guards at the door fell to their knees, and toppled to the floor; both were dead before their faces smashed into the fine marble tiles.
Stalin leapt to his feet, trembling with rage. Nox turned to him and said flatly. “You asked for a demonstration.”
Nox held his hands up to Stalin, “I mean you no harm. I thought his would be an excellent way to prove what I have to offer.”
“Those were two of my best men,” Stalin stammered.
“I’m certain you saw that I did not raise either of my hands to your men. The weapon attached to my chest is controlled by my thoughts alone. I have demonstrated my ability to produce results. Now I will demonstrate my willingness.”