He listened to the alien speech in numb disbelief. The Colonel had never had any time for the UN, even though he’d never embraced some of the wilder conspiracy theories about the UN’s role in the world. And yet watching the alien lecture the world leaders — including the President — made his blood boil. Who were they to come and tell humanity how they should take care of themselves? The Colonel had grown up in a tradition of self-reliance, of knowing that the government couldn’t be relied upon to take care of oneself; the aliens seemed almost to be suggesting that they were here to take over — for humanity’s own good — and expected the human race to accept without demur. They were almost intergalactic social workers.
The thought made him scowl. His children had been deployed overseas, working near non-governmental organisations that tried to improve the lives of the poor and hungry in countries that owed much of their misfortunes to their own governments. Very few of the NGOs had succeeded in having a lasting effect; they didn’t understand the locals, they didn’t realise that their interventions could have negative effects as well as positive — and they often made their plans without any awareness of local realities. The thought that Earth might be a Third World state by Galactic standards shocked him, although some of the alien comments were alarmingly valid. One of the many scenarios they’d discussed for disaster had been an asteroid impact. No one had any faith in NASA’s ability to deflect an asteroid from Earth.
He watched as the aliens turned and left the chamber, allowing CNN to switch to yet another of its endless stable of talking heads. They’d been interviewing experts ever since the alien starships had been detected, experts who often knew little more than the interviewers. The Colonel suspected that they would have no trouble finding experts to confirm or deny the alien claims, depending upon their ideological backgrounds. It was easy to see how vested interests might manipulate the data to ensure that it supported their conclusions, suggesting a universal trait of the human race. What was the truth when vast amounts of money were at stake?
“Well,” he said, finally. “That’s us told.”
The sitting room was packed, loaded with his friends, family and workers. They’d all watched the show, not daring to speak for fear that they might miss something. On the screen, a talking head was discussing the dangers of global warming, something the Colonel knew to have been disproved scientifically — a fact that escaped the governments meddlers who thought that a degree and a lofty title allowed them to dictate to America’s farmers. In fact, the Earth was actually getting slightly cooler, a point that portended other global changes. The aliens had been right to point out, in effect, that the human race had all of its eggs in one basket. A single worldwide disaster could exterminate the human race.
He stood up. There would be time to return to the television — or the computer — later. For the moment, he needed time to digest what he’d seen and try to think of what it meant for him personally. At least the aliens hadn’t launched an immediate attack on Earth; he’d once watched Mars Attacks with Mary and the seemingly-psychotic aliens had declared war by slaughtering the Senate. The cynic in him told the Colonel that they’d probably aided the human war effort. It seemed that there would be no immediate disaster from space.
“Time to get back to work,” he said. The small collection of food could be cleared up later, once they’d dealt with the endless series of chores that had to be done on the farm. “We can talk about it at teatime.”
With that, he walked out of the door and onto the farm. There was much work to be done.
Jeannette McGreevy, ever since she had grown old enough to understand what politics actually was, had been consumed with a single thought. She would be President one day. It had been an ambition actually encouraged by her father and her grandfather, who had served in politics for so long that the clan could no longer consider a life outside Washington. They might not be as famous as the Kennedy Family, or the Bush Family, or even the Clinton Family, but that worked in her favour. The family had far fewer skeletons in its closet than any of the more famous clans, something that had helped ensure that only the Bush Family could boast two Presidents in their line. Jeannette intended to be the first of her clan to sit in the Oval Office and be addressed as Madam President.
She smiled to herself as she walked towards the alien chambers. Her appearance had been — like everything else — carefully calculated for maximum effect. She wore a stiff suit, one that made her look businesslike, and had her hair tied up in a tight bun. Margaret Thatcher, one of the few women to wield supreme power, had served as her idol. A President had to appear impassive and approachable, capable and yet vulnerable. It wouldn’t be long until the next election cycle, when she would attempt to knock President Hollinger off the ticket and run for President herself. Her aides had already started the long process of securing contributions and support prior to the nominations. The family’s long service in Washington gave them a network of allies and clients and she had no intention of wasting them. She would be President, the first female President in America’s history. No one would ever forget her name.
Her aides buzzed around her, each one competing to provide her with the latest update from her corps of political monitoring personnel. The winner in any political campaign would be the one who understood the national trends in public opinion and Jeannette had no intention of being behind the curve. Reaction seemed to be mixed, but there was a general trend towards an admiration for the Galactic Federation — and a drop in support for the government. Even those who might be counted upon to be patriotic seemed inclined to condemn the government — a condemnation that would fall on the head of the sitting President, even if the trends they condemned had started long before his administration. Jeannette listened with a practiced ear as the results of the latest polls were shoved in front of her, before dismissing her staff. She would make the walk to the alien chambers alone. As always, it was a carefully planned political gesture; the aliens had walked into the heart of human society without fear and she intended to visit them just as openly.
The aliens had requested a set of chambers within the UN complex for their personnel use and the UN had scurried to comply. Jeannette knew that every other ambassador, special representative and even some of the world leaders still in New York would be scurrying to secure a private interview with the aliens. The promise of alien technology and a change in the global balance of power was irresistibly attractive. Jeannette knew that the nations with the least to lose — debtor nations that felt as if they were exploited by the West, fairly or unfairly — would be the ones most inclined to buy into the promise of a brave new world order. At worst, they would be no worse off than they already were… and they would have the satisfaction of seeing their tormentors brought down to the same level.
A UN security guard waved her through into an antechamber, where she encountered what had to be an alien version of a security guard. The alien waved a device over her body, checked the results and — apparently satisfied — allowed her to proceed into the next chamber, where the alien Ambassador rose to greet her. Up close, the alien was utterly inhuman; his eerie body moved in a manner that sent chills down her spine. She reminded herself firmly that this was another intelligent being and — more importantly — had the backing of seventeen starships in orbit. The aliens could not be taken lightly.
“Thank you for receiving me,” she said, as she took the chair the alien indicated. He seemed to show no inclination to sit down at first, and then perched himself on a stool. Jeannette wondered if it was a deliberate sign — either a gesture of respect or a deliberate slur — before realising that the alien wouldn’t find a human chair very comfortable. “It is my hope that we can proceed together towards a mutually-satisfying dialogue that will respect the needs and inclinations of both our peoples.”