And that, Toby knew, was an outright lie. Blake Coleman hadn’t been involved in any militia, unless one counted the Colonel’s survivalist group. And the Colonel had been careful to avoid making waves that would be noticed by the feds. His paranoia might have saved his ass, even though Coleman’s reputation would be forever blackened by being linked to groups that were, at best, wannabe freedom fighters. Most of the militias were little more than men drilling aimlessly and talking themselves up as often as possible.
He was starting to see how the alien plan was designed. By creating a terrorist incident that could not fail to shock the nation, they would provide a ready-made excuse for clamping down on militias and any other groups that might pose a threat to the aliens. Their assets — their pod people — in high places could be relied upon to deal with the militias with extreme violence, sparking off conflict that would only weaken the United States. It was a pattern familiar throughout human history. The invaders disarmed a population and then started cracking the whip. Hitler had done it. So, more recently, had the Taliban.
And, worst of all, no one would know the truth. Blake Coleman’s remains had definitely been found at the scene. His altered computer records would link him to militia groups he wouldn’t have lowered himself to visit, let alone train. And they would protest their innocence in vain. They’d be crushed… and anyone who could be linked to them, even on the most spurious of links, would be destroyed. The Mainstream Media would howl and demand new laws against militia groups… and the aliens, watching from high overhead, would wait until the chaos had subsided before revealing their hand.
“So we go after them,” McGreevy said, firmly. She wanted to be President. Right now, she seemed to believe that she was the President. Or maybe she was honestly shocked. She’d been the one to raise the issue of right-wing groups, after all. Maybe the aliens hadn’t told her what they’d had in mind. Even McGreevy, surely, would hesitate at murdering children for political aims. And American children at that. No political career would survive even a hint of association with such a crime. “We take the bastards out, once and for all. We round up every member of every militia and put them behind bars…”
The FBI Director coughed. “There is such a thing as due process,” he said, flatly. “We will certainly be speaking to the militias as a matter of urgency, but we cannot imprison people just for shooting their mouths off…”
“God damn it,” McGreevy snapped. “I’m not talking about people who are shooting their mouths off — I’m talking about people who shot at innocent kids! And who killed one of the aliens! Do you have any idea just how badly that could reflect on us? We need the Galactics to help us, not cower in their ships for fear that some illiterate barbarian is going to take a pot-shot at them every time they show themselves. We have to crack down on this hard!”
She glared at the President. “The aliens are already offering assistance in hunting the bastards down,” she said. “I need not remind you that that assistance may not be optional, at least for us. Refusal could have the most severe consequences for us.”
The FBI Director leaned forward. “We could round up every known militia member,” he said. “The Department of Homeland Security has been tracking them for years. But I am telling you that any halfwit of a lawyer will be able to file charges of false imprisonment on their behalf. And then there will be a legal nightmare. Many of them could only be busted on relatively minor charges, if that.”
His eyes narrowed. “And it would certainly cause a major political upheaval,” he added. “We had enough problems after 9/11. This would be far worse. We would be breaking into the homes of ordinary Americans and taking them away to secret prisons. Some of these groups are not too tightly wired in the first place. Give them a cause and blood will be shed — and then we will have chaos as well as everything else.”
“We have chaos already,” McGreevy said. “One of these militia groups you seem inclined to coddle assassinated one of the aliens. Do you have any idea what that could mean?”
Toby frowned, inwardly. The aliens had put one of their own people in the firing line, sacrificing him to make the assassination look good. It suggested a cold calculating mentality, unless the alien had somehow survived the gunshot. Who knew? The body had been removed to the alien shuttle after the blast and the cameras hadn’t been able to give any idea of just how badly the alien had been wounded. By accident or design, the alien recovery workers had sanitized the ground. There was no trace of alien DNA.
He stared at the President’s back, thinking hard. What if there had never been an alien at the site? What if they’d sent a robot? No human could have spotted such a deception, if only because the aliens were inhuman and rarely made small talk with humans. It struck him as chancy, but it might just have worked… and even if it hadn’t been a robot, the alien might have survived. There would be no way of proving it, one way or the other.
“I insist, and I believe that most of Congress and the Senate would agree with me, that we take the strongest possible measures against the militias,” McGreevy said. “They are in violation of a number of federal laws even without any involvement in the assassination. And we have to convince the Galactics that we are doing something. If they think that we’re not following up these leads to the terrorist groups behind the attack, they may take action on their own. And I don’t have to remind you that any action they take would almost certainly be utterly disastrous. They have the power to destroy our nation. They could smash us flat!”
Toby doubted it. The aliens seemed interested in America’s tech base — and that of the other First World nations — and wouldn’t want to destroy it, even though he had problems thinking of any logical reason why they would want something that had to be primitive to them. Any alien retaliation against America would be limited, although ‘limited’ might mean losing a city or two. Millions of lives were at risk. And McGreevy had brought them face to face with the reality that if they didn’t crack down hard, the aliens might take action on their own. And then the shit would really hit the fan.
The President could have opposed her, but he didn’t have the strength. One by one, the Cabinet members consented. McGreevy would get her way. The militias — and anyone remotely connected to them — would be targeted. Toby had no doubt that the media would work hard to ensure that the public largely supported enhanced security measures, even at the cost of a little freedom. The aliens would get a weak and disarmed population.
Bastards, Toby thought. He had to talk to his father, despite the risks. They had to find a way of hitting back — because, he had the nasty feeling, time had just run out.
Jayne lay on the motel bed, wearing nothing apart from a light blue shirt and a pair of bedroom slippers. She’d moved from one motel to a second as soon as she’d uploaded her story, paying cash and using a fake ID she’d picked up from one of her more dubious contacts. In theory, there should be no way to trace her. In practice… she didn’t know if they aliens had some magical gages that would allow them to track her down. Impatiently, she stood up and started to pace the room. Years ago, she’d wondered why journalists in the Middle East always looked nervous. She understood now; they’d been permanently aware that the wrong story could earn them a bullet in the back of their head. And she felt exactly the same way.
They were looking for her. She knew that for a fact. If the aliens were prepared to target harmless bloggers, they would definitely be prepared to target her. And they had hundreds of pod people, probably far more than she knew. One of them in the right place would see her and then she’d be dead. And if she stayed in the motel room and hid, eventually she’d run out of money. By now, they’d probably be watching her bank account for any sign she’d withdrawn money, using it to track her down. Every civilian in America left behind an electronic trail wherever they went, from paying in shops to appearing on security cameras. She’d once done a story about how the FBI could track someone down without ever showing their hand. The aliens would have far greater capabilities for accessing, collating and using data. They’d know everything about her.