She reached out and switched on the TV. Every channel had been running the same story, covering the attack on the alien ambassador — and the innocent children who’d been gunned down or blown up in the explosion. Jayne didn’t need any help to recognise a put-up job, even without any inside knowledge. The aliens had probably used one of their pod people to carry out the attack and then destroyed the body to ensure that whatever they’d done to it remained undiscovered. In the absence of facts, the news networks were resorting to interviewing talking heads, each one with their own theory. The general trend was becoming alarmingly obvious very quickly. They seemed to be focusing on right-wing groups, rather than Islamic terrorists or any other threat. That made a certain kind of sense; first, disarm the military, second, disarm the population, third… invade.
The TV picture switched suddenly to an emergency broadcast from the White House. Jayne frowned as she saw the President. He looked terrible, like a man who hadn’t got enough sleep in the past few days. His forehead gleamed under the light, suggesting that he hadn’t had time to undergo the pre-broadcast sessions that applied makeup. It suggested a sense of urgency that was lacking from most political broadcasts. The news was not going to be good.
“My Fellow Americans,” the President said. He sounded weak, indecisive. It wasn’t what Americans expected of their President in a time of crisis. Had the aliens gotten to him too? No, Jayne told herself, and hoped she was right. They wouldn’t need any deception if they could break through the President’s security and turn him into a pod person. “A great disaster has struck our nation. Terrorists launched an attack on a school, killing and maiming hundreds of innocent children — and assassinating one of the representatives of the Galactic Federation. The assassin, who carried out a suicide bombing, was positively identified as a member of a right-wing militia movement that had been emitting loud threats towards the Galactic Federation. They finally put those threats into operation. They killed innocent children to make a political point.
“Desperate times require desperate measures. With the full consent of Congress, I have authorised the proper law enforcement agencies to go after those terrorists with all the means at our disposal. We will tear them out, root and branch; we will utterly destroy them. Whatever their political cause, they lost all legitimacy when they struck at innocent children.”
The President seemed to weaken, noticeably. “Please do not be alarmed,” he concluded. “The innocent have nothing to fear. We will track down and destroy these terrorists before they can do worse harm to our people. We will not allow fear to hold us in its thrall.”
Jayne shivered. It hadn’t been a good speech — and she suspected she knew what it portended. New security measures, which would somehow never be revoked. The entire country — the entire world — was marching towards disaster. Could they see it?
Of course they see it, her thoughts whispered. They just don’t care.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Near Mannington, Virginia
USA, Day 48
The Rawson Family hadn’t been terrorists. They hadn’t really been militia. They’d really been nothing more than a set of loudmouths bitching about the IRA, the EPA and every other federal organisation that made it harder for them to turn a profit from their small farm. And they’d had illegal weapons, depending on what measure was used. The definition seemed to change from time to time to whatever suited the Feds best, as far as the Colonel could tell. They never seemed to have read the Constitution. The right to bear arms could not be legally infringed.
It hadn’t helped the Rawson Family. The Colonel watched from his hiding place as Betty Rawson was hauled out of her home in handcuffs and half-pushed, half-carried towards the waiting vehicles. Behind her, her youngest child was screaming in the grip of a black-suited federal officer who was clearly finding it hard to hold on to the child. On the ground, the bodies of Pat Rawson, the Patriarch of the family, and three of his sons were waiting to be taken away. They’d seen the writing on the wall the moment the Feds had arrived and put up a fight, for all the good it had done them. The Colonel doubted that any court would declare against the Feds, even though they’d killed four people. And the shootout would convince the Feds to go in hard next time.
Coming to the farm had been a risk, but it was one he had to face. He knew Blake Coleman was dead; he’d been dead long before his reanimated corpse had been used to murder dozens of innocent children, along with one of the Snakes. And yet the Colonel couldn’t escape the feeling that he bore at least partial responsibility for the crime and its aftermath. All of Coleman’s heroics in war would be forgotten in the wake of the terrible crime, a crime he had never truly forgotten. The history books would forever damn him alongside all the other terrorists who’d shown their cowardly natures by striking at unarmed and defenceless sheep. There was no way to prove otherwise. That, he was sure, was why the aliens controlling him had destroyed his body. There would be no physical evidence of what they’d done.
Carefully, he peered down at the lead Federal Agent. There seemed to be something not quite right with the man, an odd inhumanity in his face. Certainly the other Feds were giving him a wide berth, as if they didn’t trust him, or as if they were afraid of him. The Colonel had met his fair share of commanding officers who invoked fear rather than respect in their men, but this was different. He had the uneasy feeling that he was looking right at an alien-controlled pod person.
Having killed or captured the family, the Feds didn’t seem interested in actually searching the farm, or doing anything that might allow them to track down other leads. Instead, they were just waiting. A handful were smoking, while two others were leaning against the vehicles doing nothing. The Colonel couldn’t understand it. It was almost as if they were waiting for something, but what? A moment later, he saw the answer flying through the air towards the farm. The alien shuttle slowly came to a halt over the farm and lowered itself to the ground, forcing the Feds to scatter to give it plenty of room. A hatch opened and the first alien appeared, hopping neatly down to the ground.
The Colonel stared. It was the first alien he’d seen with his own eyes and he found himself absolutely fascinated. As a child, he’d once studied spiders and crustaceans, revelling in the feeling of staring at something utterly inhuman. He felt the same way now as the aliens advanced towards the farm. They moved with snake-like motions, bright red eyes flickering from left to right. The devices they carried in their hands had to be weapons. They were clearly designed for alien hands, rather than human usage, but the principle had to be the same. The Colonel smiled, despite himself. Some constants were truly universal.
The aliens stopped in front of the pod person and there was a brief exchange of words. It was impossible to lip-read at his distance, leaving the Colonel unaware of what was going on. A moment later, the pod person barked orders and the federal agents scrambled for their vehicles, the one with the child unceremoniously tipping him into the prisoner van along with his mother. The Feds departed at speed, leaving the aliens behind. Moments later, the aliens returned to their shuttle and departed. The boxy craft ascended to the heavens and vanished.