Veezee: The Invasion by Clyde Key
* * *
After a short ride in the veeto plane, they were back at the Kingman training camp. None of the former captives would agree to be debriefed until after a long hot shower with plenty of soap and shampoo.
Then came time for the debriefing session with Everett Lane, along with President Litton on the vidscreen. They watched as Litton’s face appeared on the screen. At first, her attention was focused on papers on the large desk, but then she looked up at her vidscreen, with a curious expression. “Perhaps we should try another channel. Most of you look positively green on this screen.”
“Beg pardon, Ms. President. It’s not the screen. We are green.”
“Oh! Is this some army camouflage technique?”
“Oh, no!” said Arlene. “It’s not camouflage. It’s only the result of an unfortunate incident while we made contact with The Visitors.”
The president’s face brightened. “So you finally made contact! That’s wonderful!” Then she added, “Isn’t it?”
“It’s progress, but that’s about all you can claim for it,” said Ed. “From all we have been able to learn, the aliens are completely incompatible with human life. We’ll have to have some direct contact and set up some lines of communication, but we absolutely must keep them isolated from humanity, for all our sakes.”
“I’d hoped for more encouraging words about the first contact,” said Litton, “but this does mean war isn’t likely, doesn’t it? I mean, according to the textbooks, effective communication prevents wars.”
“I’m afraid the textbooks have no validity in this case,” said Ed. “Textbooks are written from human experience about human nature. These filthy things are worse than maggots. If we can exterminate them, we should. If we can’t, then we’ll have to learn to control them or at least to coexist on some basis. But coexistence would be about the worst thing to happen to mankind since the world wars.”
“What is your assessment, Sisk?” asked Litton.
“We stand on the threshold of great things, Ms. President! We have discovered today that The Visitors are peaceful and they are anxious to use their advanced intellect to help us solve the world’s problems. The problem, as I see it, is that we are so far behind that they may have trouble understanding us but open lines of communication can overcome that—If you can keep old fools from barging in and destroying the process!”
Litton suddenly looked weary. “Hmm. We’re going to have to work out a common position, and I can already see it’s not going to be easy. I’d like for each of you, including Lane, to write a comprehensive report on where you think we stand with the aliens...”
“Visitors!” said Arlene. “We must think of them as our Visitors!”
Litton appeared annoyed at the interruption. “Okay. Visitors, if we must refer to them that way. But whatever, we have to be united on this. We will have only one official position from the government, and I will decide what that position is, after I’ve heard all the facts.”
“Very good, Ms. President,” said Ed. “I’ll get started right away. You’ll have a first draft later today.”
“You already know my position, but I’ll report anyway. You’ll have my assessment within a couple of hours,” said Arlene.
“Good. I’ll be waiting for the reports. In the meantime, though, I think you should get back to Washington, Sisk. You can work on the report while you travel.”
“Very well, Ms. President. I’m on my way,” said Arlene.
The president reached for the disconnect switch, but paused. “Oh, one more thing, Sisk.”
“Yes. What is it?”
“Find some cosmetics to cover up your skin before you arrive. Don’t show up in Washington green because it won’t be well received. You’ll cause a panic!”
Then Litton’s voice faded from the screen before Arlene could say anything else.
23
Feb. 4, 2035
Evan Saxon and Hank Halloran rested in overstuffed chairs in the plush waiting room at the control center of Arecibo Observatory while Corporal Garcia went to announce their arrival to President Duran.
“They have changed the decor since we were here last, haven’t they?” asked Halloran.
“Yes, I believe they have. I think I remember oil paintings on the walls last time.” Saxon pulled himself up out of the large chair and walked around the waiting room. “My gosh! These are holograms and they are good!”
Halloran took a closer look. “They are! These are so good it looks like the view from a porthole in a space shuttle! The black space and gleaming lights are so realistic!”
Saxon was inspecting another. “Look at this! If you stand to this side of the hologram, you can see a shuttle wing. And look there! Right behind the wing is an astronaut on a tether line. It looks like the astronaut is even moving!”
“It is moving,” said Halloran.
Sure enough, as Saxon watched, the astronaut in the hologram reeled in the line that brought him (or her, perhaps, since one couldn’t see who was in the space suit) nearer to the shuttle. Then the astronaut disappeared under the form of the shuttle wing. “I didn’t know it was possible to make such a realistic hologram. I wouldn’t have believed it!”
“I’m glad you like it!”
Saxon and Halloran were both startled. They were so caught up with the holograms that they hadn’t noticed President Duran entering.
Saxon turned sharply. “Mr. President! It’s good to see you again.”
“It certainly is,” said Halloran. “We were just enjoying the holograms. I didn’t know technology existed for anything quite like this—especially with the moving images!”
“It does have depth, doesn’t it?” said Duran. Then he removed one of the holograms from the wall. “Look at this. It is no more than a centimeter thick. Yet, when you view it from the front, it has almost infinite depth.”
“May I see the back of it?” asked Saxon. He took the panel from Duran and studied it very carefully. The back of the panel was very smooth. Its only feature was a loop of very fine wire that ran near its edges. “What is the wire for?” asked Saxon. “It doesn’t seem to be connected to anything.”
“The wire is an antenna,” said Duran. “The hologram has no fixed image. Instead, we send images by UHF transmission. That picture is live, by the way. From our shuttle.”
“What? That’s incredible!” said Halloran. “Where did you get the technology for it?”
“I am offended,” said Duran. “I would have expected that from Senor Jantzen, but not from you. We developed the technology ourselves, of course! In the Laboratoria Nacionale.”
“It must have been quite recent,” said Saxon. “I’d never even heard of anything like it.”
“Somewhat recently—a few months ago, in fact. However, we have kept it secret for a reason. It stands to reason that an alien intelligence capable of learning an Earth language could also understand the technology for this, especially if we coached them. But we don’t know if we should.”
Saxon almost dropped the hologram. “What? What did you mean about learning our language?”
“Another small secret, amigo. I did not wish to tell the world before I told you.”
“Then you have a communication we haven’t heard about?” asked Halloran.
“Indeed,” said Duran. “Follow me, please.”
They followed Duran to a small room fairly crammed with electronic instruments. Duran went to a console and pushed a couple of switches. He pointed to a large speaker behind them, and in a moment, the speaker began to buzz. Then it sounded like rushing water. After a few seconds came the words—metallic and rasping, but clearly spoken nevertheless. “I am one. We are two. We are many. We are not like you.”
“How long ago was that message received?” asked Halloran.
“About one month ago.”
“I don’t understand,” said Saxon. “Why didn’t you send it to us as soon as it came in?”
“Ah, but we did! We sent the entire tr
“I still don’t understand,” said Saxon. “We’ve run that whole transmission through the computer and we didn’t find any words in it.”
Duran smiled. “North Americans don’t know everything, eh?”
“Apparently not,” said Saxon. “How did you find it?”
“One of our technicians noticed a slight difference in this transmission. He was observing the pulses on an oscilloscope when he saw that the highest amplitude step on each consecutive pulse was only slightly different in its position, and there seemed to be a trend in the variation. So he had our computer test it from some different angles and he discovered that step position in the pulse corresponded to signal amplitude. A form of amplitude modulation, if you will.”
Halloran and Saxon both thought about that for a while. “What else was in the transmission?”
“There was nothing else. The entire three hour transmission contained only those words.”
“Only? In three hours.” Saxon wondered how the whole transmission could only contain fourteen words.
“Yes. That is all of the transmission. I believe the aliens thought they were speaking slowly and clearly to make it easier for us. Perhaps they have a different grasp of time than us, eh?”
“Why did they say that?” wondered Saxon. “That doesn’t seem like a logical response to the messages we’ve sent.”
“But it is logical,” said Duran. “My country is not controlled by your commission. We cooperate because of our good will, and because of our friendship with you personally. That message is an answer to one of many questions transmitted by the institute.”
“Well, this will sure blow things open,” said Halloran. “I think the public was getting a little tired of spending so much money on ETCC with so little result. That should change when we announce this.”
“Maybe we should not announce it so quickly,” said Duran.
“Why not?” asked Saxon. “What possible benefit could there be in a delay?”
“Think about it, senores. You have a new president and she favors the loco woman Norden. If she believes we can speak with the aliens in English, then she has no need for you at all. Norden and her friends will control your commission and there will be no place for you.”
“But you could help with that,” said Halloran. “Surely you could use your influence with President Eddings.”
“I have no influence with Eddings. If we did not act as she wished, she would simply have your scientists build more powerful transmitters and larger antennas than we have. Our feeble voice would not be heard.”
“You’re probably right,” said Halloran. “The more I think about, I’m convinced. No matter what Eddings says about promoting cultural diversity, she’s more committed to feminism and she absolutely loathes Latino culture. She has it connected with macho dominance.”
Duran smiled. “Then you are with us. We will form our own alliance.”
“Count me in,” said Halloran.
Saxon frowned. “I suppose, but I don’t have a good feeling about it. I guess I have a great fear it could backfire on us.”
Duran looked hurt. “Is your fear greater than the hope for what we could accomplish?”
“You’re right,” said Saxon. “We have already made the most astonishing scientific breakthrough in the history of mankind, with the promise of so much more to come, and we could lose it all to political expediency. Of course, this is bigger than me or all of us.”
24
June 14, 2112
Dateline Washington, DC
Headline: COMMUNICATING AT LAST!
Arlene Sisk, director of the Alien Anti-bigotry Commission, announced a breakthrough today. Using an unusual electronic news conference format, Sisk told media representatives that she, accompanied by another AABC member and an unidentified military officer, spoke briefly with the leader of The Visitors—Veezee, as they identify themselves.
Sisk told how the world was very nearly plunged into a catastrophic confrontation with Veezee who are basically friendly and peace-loving, although they are undoubtedly far ahead of us technologically as well as socially.
“It is indeed fortunate that I insisted on meeting personally with The Visitors,” said Sisk. “Up to now we have depended on the Old Guard element in our government and their reactionary methods almost produced tragic results for our entire world. I thought we had learned years ago, and it seems like we should have, that the old macho warrior methods of confrontation are no longer valid. We should have learned that only cooperation and communication can produce peace and understanding between diverse civilizations.”
According to Sisk, the historic meeting took place earlier today at a Veezee camp a few kilometers north of Needles, California. The camp is some distance away from the fleet of rocket ships upon which The Visitors arrived. An unidentified AABC administrator speculated that Veezee had moved away from the rockets because of the danger of igniting a massive fuel spill. Sisk attributed the fuel spill to a blundering military move that knocked over several of the giant craft a month earlier.