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Authors: Michael McKinney

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The images just seen by millions all around the world were riveting, ominous, and dire in their import. How does one go to sleep after what has just been seen? There must be something more. As the crowd begins to stir, the President who had been standing passively aside, now turns and speaks, both to those present, and to the TV cameras still streaming live coverage to viewers all around the world.

His statement is terse and cryptic.

“Ladies and gentlemen, tomorrow night we will be with you again, and then all questions will be answered.”

With this Ken Myers takes his wife’s hand, and lovingly embraces her.

“Carol, I want you to get some sleep.”

“What about you?”

“I have to stay here.”

“Why? Why do you have to stay? What’s happening here, Ken? Does this have anything to do with what your mother was talking about? I’m not leaving here if you’re not coming.”

At this point the Vice President interjects.

“Mr. President, what’s going on? The nation needs to know.”

“The nation will know, and the world. I promise you. You’re a good man, Scott. We’ll need you tomorrow night, and I know you’ll play your part. It’s why you were chosen.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can say no more.”

Now a detail of six Secret Service agents move in close to the President with the unambiguous intention of physically removing him from any possible danger. The tone and demeanor of the lead agent make it clear that the President has no choice but to leave the area immediately.

“Mr. President, I have orders to escort you, and the Vice President to a safe location. If you’ll both come with me, please.”

“Scott, why don’t you go and get some rest? I have to stay here.”

“You can’t do that, Mr. President. It’s dangerous here. You must leave,” the Secret Service agent says.

“No, I can’t do that, and I wouldn’t want to. You’ll understand.”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but I have orders to remove you from this area and bring you to a safe place, and that’s what I intend to do.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“Mr. Vice President are you going to be as obstinate?” the agent asks.

“No, no, I’m ready, but I’ll be back tomorrow night. Come on, Ken, it’s time to go,” the Vice President says to the President.

“Sir, please come with us.”

The Secret Service agent waits for the President to comply, and when he doesn’t, reluctantly tells him, “I’m sorry, Sir you give me no choice.”

As the agent puts his hand on the President’s back to usher him away, he suddenly and unexpectedly pulls back. Trying again, he is repulsed again.

“What is that?” he asks.

“It’s just a gentle shock of electricity. It won’t hurt you, but it will be commensurate with the force you choose to exert. You have no power to interfere with what’s taking place here.”

At this, the agent attempts to grab the President’s arm, and lurches back from the electrical shock.

“I appreciate your concern. I know you want to protect me. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry,” the President says.

Once more, and very tentatively, the agent extends his finger cautiously. When it’s only a few inches from the President’s body, electrical current is seen arcing to his finger, and again he lurches back.

“I wouldn’t do that anymore if I were you. You can help me, though, if you would,” the President says.

“Sir?”

“If you would get a blanket for my wife, and one for me as well, if you can find one. It might get chilly later on.”

Not knowing what to do next, the lead agent tells the President, “Mr. President if you choose to stay, I’m staying as well.”

“‘Be governed by your knowledge, and proceed in the sway of your own will.’ That’s what Cordelia said to the physician who was attending her father, King Lear. Are you familiar with Shakespeare’s plays?”

“No, Sir, I’m not.”

“Come, then. Stay with us tonight. I’ll tell you the story. Your world is filled with beauty and wondrous things, undiscovered.”

Puzzled for a moment, Agent Forbes thinks to himself, 'wondrous things undiscovered' what's that supposed to mean? He then turns to Scott Conner.

“Mr. Vice President, if you’ll please come with us. I’ll be back in a few minutes Mr. President”

As the Vice President is escorted away, police are taping the area off, and more security personnel move into the area. With TV cameras rolling, the world watches the continuing scene in Olympic Stadium. No longer visually strewn across the sky, millions now go inside to see televised images continually streaming from the scene. Compared to what they’ve just witnessed, the scene is markedly less dramatic. It’s nearly 2:30 in the morning in Miami. A perimeter has been formed around the strange alien craft still dominating everyone’s attention. The President, his wife, and four Secret Service agents are within thirty feet of the spacecraft. The public has been moved back, but still remain in considerable numbers. As weariness comes, Mrs. Myers still sitting beside her husband, slowly succumbs to sleep. With most activity in abeyance, an army truck pulls up alongside the area. An officer quickly gets out, and approaches the President.

“Mr. President, we have a tent and several cots for you and Mrs. Myers.”

“That would be wonderful. Thank you, Captain.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Eight soldiers quickly carry the items to where the President and Mrs. Myers are seated, and have the fully equipped tent assembled in minutes as the officer in charge remarks.

“Mr. President, if there’s anything you or Mrs. Myers might need, we’re happy to oblige.”

“Thank you, Captain, I was concerned about my wife being uncomfortable. That’s very kind.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Turning to his new acquaintance, the Secret Service agent still with him, the President asks, “Allen, would you like some coffee or something?”

“Uh, yes, Sir, that would be nice.”

“How about something to eat? Could we manage that, Captain?”

“Yes, Sir, absolutely, anything you want.”

“How about some coffee, and sandwiches?” the President asks.

“Absolutely, yes, Sir, we’ll get them immediately.”

“We appreciate that, Captain.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As they wait for their coffee, the President asks his Secret Service agent, “Allen will you help me get my wife settled?”

As they both carry the sleeping First Lady into the tent, the Secret Service agent notices that he felt no electric shock when he inadvertently touched the President, and moments later when both are sitting again sipping their coffee, he mentions it.

“Mr. President?”

“Yes, Allen?”

“When I touched you a minute ago, carrying Mrs. Myers, I wasn’t shocked.”

“That’s right, Allen. You weren’t.”

“How does a person do that, Mr. President?”

“To answer that fully would take a long time.”

“Well, we have all night, Sir.”

“Hmm. A million of your nights would not be enough to tell the story completely.”

“What’s going to happen here, Mr. President?”

“Things to be remembered, Allen, and learned from.”

As the sleepy late hours of morning advance, Allen looks at Ken Myers, and wonders along with the rest of the humanity about what tomorrow will bring.

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

As the sun rises and another day begins, its light shines on a world that is fundamentally and irrevocably changed. All conversation, all news coverage, is in reference to the same subject. If they did manage to sleep, millions of Americans are waking up to nonstop news reports about the events of last night. Images that were dramatically seen the night before are constantly being replayed. The face of a creature called a Linesian is seen on every TV. Within hours it becomes the most ubiquitous image in the world. Saturday morning talk shows scramble to find astronomers and cosmologists to interview as saturation coverage on all media outlets is continuous.

As incredible as alien contact with another planetary civilization is, something else is talked about even more. How is it that the President of the United States seemed to know this remarkable event was going to happen, and why is he still there beside the alien craft, as if waiting for something else to happen?

It’s the morning after extended global contact with an advanced extraterrestrial intelligence. How does one react to that? Daily personal activities, routinely casual only twenty-four hours ago, now seem perfunctory and meaningless. A widespread inchoate sense that the world has fundamentally changed somehow is pervasive. Government officials, as nonplussed for answers as the public, urge restraint, and calm. As human consciousness grapples with what is happening, a general perception emerges that people are beginning to digest the dramatic events they have seen. All know this drama is not over. The question of what comes next, unspoken and certainly as yet unanswered, is on the mind of everyone. Call-in programs and people randomly chosen express a varied range of opinions. Fully half of respondents are actually encouraged, and see a potentially good outcome in what has happened. Many take it as a signal that the barriers between people of race, social class, and economic status no longer have any validity, that all grievances and injustices would be resolved, and that somehow the world, solely because of this unusual event, is now transformed into something better than before. Others, much less sanguine, don’t see it as hopefully, even suggesting the possibility that it’s a hoax perpetrated by the government for unknown, nefarious reasons. Still others react fearfully, telling people to get ready for armed conflict.

What was seen and experienced last night by so many defies rational explanation. The fact that millions saw Congressman Steve Kearns, a triple amputee, regenerate healthy limbs in only minutes, is impossible to deny or explain. Some suggest that it was done to verify the authenticity of what was about to happen.

Speculation is rampant about what will happen tonight. When the Linesian” spoke last night, what did he mean about an invitation into man’s future? The world would apparently not have long to wait for the answer. It would come with nightfall. Even though nearly all of what was seen last night was the depiction of an imminent, global environmental collapse, this subject is mentioned, and discussed only marginally. Now all the world waits to see, and hear what will come tonight.

Among those watching the ongoing television coverage is the director of the FBI, Frank Slaughter, who like most is completely mystified by what he has seen. Is there, he wonders, a connection between the events of last night and what was seen in the President’s brain scan? If so, what could it be? As he ponders the question, the expected knock on the door is heard. Senator Fields and CIA director Paul Stuart have asked the FBI director to meet with them as soon as possible. They enter, and after cursory greetings quickly come to the reason for their visit.

“Mr. Director, I didn’t come here to mince words, so I’m not going to waste your time. We have a national emergency on our hands, Mr. Slaughter. How do you see it?”

“I don’t know what to make of it, to be honest with you.”

“You don’t actually believe all this nonsense. Do you?” asks Senator Fields.

“How do you explain what’s going on?” Director Slaughter asks.

“Oh there’s something going on, all right, but it ain’t some spaceship from another world. I’m not that gullible,” says Senator Fields.

“Well what do you think happened last night?”

“I’ll tell ya what I think is happening right now. This country is being sold out. That’s what.”

“What are you talking about?” Director Slaughter asks.

“Come on. Do you really believe that what you saw last night was real?” asks Senator Fields.

“To be honest, I don’t know what to believe.”

“Mr. Director, let’s start with what we know. We know that Myers is not what he appears to be. We established that before any of what happened last night. That’s true, isn’t it, based on the evidence that you presented?” asks CIA Director Paul Stuart.

“I think so.”

“So it’s likely that Myers is in some way connected to what we saw last night. I mean why is he still there, if they aren’t connected in some way? Do you agree?”

“I think that’s safe to say.”

“Now, what did we see last night? Let’s think about this. We saw what was essentially a projected image in the sky. I’ll grant it was impressive, but it was only an image. It wasn’t real. Let’s put aside what the images were about. The storyline, climate change, environmental catastrophe, ice ages, all of that, forget about that stuff. Including those images we saw of this alien creature, because all of those images can be generated in a computer. So what do we have? If you remember, we never saw this creature called a Linesian’. All we saw was a projected image. Have you ever seen a hologram?” Mr. Stuart asks.

“Yes.”

“It’s a way of projecting a three-dimensional image using patterns of light, making something look like it’s there when it’s not.”

“What we saw last night was way beyond that.”

“We don’t know what kind of research has been undertaken. It’s possible that some new breakthrough technology has been discovered.”

“By whom?” Director Slaughter asks.

“Maybe by a country that’s a competitor to the United States. Maybe a country that could secretly fund such a program lavishly, and keep it secret for years, the same way we funded the Manhattan Project,” the CIA director says.

“China?”

“Maybe,”

“How do you account for a U.S. Congressman who use to be a triple amputee yesterday and now isn’t? This is a U.S. Congressman. He’s no friend of China,” Mr. Slaughter says.

“No, but he is a friend of Ken Myers.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why was he there last night? He has no connection to the Olympics, and not only was he there, he was an official guest of the President. That’s V.I.P. status. That only happens at the President’s direction.”

“Okay,” Director Slaughter says.

“So Myers wanted his friend Steve Kearns to be with him last night. I wonder why. Do you recall the way he talked before everything started happening?” CIA Director Stuart asks.

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