My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

4

Cookie had done his best to make supper aboard Seaview enjoyable, but none of us could really appreciate the Ham & Green Bean Casserole. Everyone was on edge, and I suppose I made the stress levels worse as I hadn’t been able to reach Lee and my frustration showed.

Oh, we’d made contact with the White House switchboard, (the cells were of no use whatsoever), but the automated messaging system had been turned on and transferred me to National Security. National Security transferred me to the Pentagon. And at last the SecNav answered, informing me that the president was unavailable but that he’d take a message…

“Damn it, I don’t want to leave a message,” I’d shouted, “I need to speak with him!”

“Calm down, Harriman. Did you discover something about the spaceships?"

“Nothing I can prove, but…I do have a possible theory about them. Maybe, sort of,” I added under my breath.

“I'll try to get you through. Do you realize there’s a small riot going on in front of the White House? And the fool boy’s just gone out to talk to them. Won’t let the cops arrest them, won’t let the military guards protect him. Even left the Secret Service behind. CNN has breaking news about it now. Can you see it?”

“Sparks, CNN, now,” Chip ordered and monitor sprang to life with an error message.

“Not yet,” I said.

“Not everyone is against the ‘wait and see’ policy,” the SecNav said, “but more and more folks are climbing on the general’s bandwagon, though he says he never meant for his resignation to lead to anything like this and has been pleading against the public displays of antagonism and violence. And the press hasn’t helped matters. More coverage, more copycats, and,” he hesitated, “your son Ronald. He and his mother made parole. Formed the ‘Committee for the Protection of Planet Earth’. Trying to get everyone they can to try to convince congress to reconvene and declare the president incompetent, and then to order an all-out attack on the aliens.”

“Has he a following?”

“Some,” the SecNav said sourly, "including General Worth. And some crowds have gathered outside the NCIMR gate. Nothing like what's in front of the White House, but since you’re connected to the president, there’ve been some shouting matches.”

“Got it, sir!” Sparks called out and the monitor revealed the illuminated White House against the evening sky, and chanting protestors just outside the fence.

One of the crowd, a middle aged woman threw a ripe tomato at Lee, the juice of which dribbled down his face, like blood.

The crowd gasped in stunned silence and a man next to the woman grabbed her arm.

“Are you crazy? He’s the president!”

“Doesn’t make him God, and I have a right to speak!”

“But not to do bodily harm!”

“It was just a tomato.”

Lee began to laugh, “Yes, folks, it was. Just a tomato. And you do have a right to speak. All of you. And to disagree. And I’ll defend your right to do so. But, ladies, gentlemen, do you really want your children, and your grandchildren to know that you wanted to trigger what could become global annialation without due cause?”

“Aren’t you scared?” one of the protesters shouted, “blow them up before they blow us up!”

“Of course I’m scared. I’d be a fool not to be. But they’ve given us no reason to attack them, have they?  No, they haven’t. I refuse to  invent an enemy when they might not be an enemy at all. We could be on the verge a brand new beginning to benefit mankind.”

“Or not,” one of the protesters said.

“Or not. That’s why our military and that of our allies, are on full alert. But nobody should be trigger happy with a B movie mentality of little green men bent on destroying us.”

“What if you’re wrong? What if they attack first and we’re destroyed when we could have prevented it?”

“Then history will show that we were mistaken."

"No, that 'you' were."

"Very well, that I was. But at least I did the right thing by not being the aggressor. Isn’t that what this nation is all about? We don't believe in being an aggressor. We believe in life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness, just as our founding fathers did. For everyone. Including our visitors from outer space.

I’m still convinced, so far, that the aliens mean no harm. And, right now, Admiral Nelson is helping the Space Exploration Agency and communications to make contact.”

I had to smile to myself how easily it was for him to bend the truth. I was trying to find the spaceship’s weaknesses, not strictly to make contact. But I took the hint and had Sparks tie me in with the Pentagon’s communications dept.

“So you ran home to daddy,” a protester snorted which was followed by derisive laughter from some. But not many. The crowd had pretty much quieted down now.

“And why the hell not?” Lee replied, gently, “he’s one of the most foremost scientists in our country. Or do you think I’d resort to 'googling' for interstellar translators and soothsayers?”

The crowed laughed, but in compassion.

“On a personal note, I’m proud Harriman Nelson is my adopted father. Wouldn’t any of you be? Now, let’s behave like mature adults and not like frightened children. Protest my decision all you want. It’s a guaranteed perk for all Americans. But I will ask that you tone it down a little. Washington may be the city that never sleeps, but I’m sure some congressmen would appreciate a few zz’s before they convene tomorrow to…discuss things.”

“Will you step down if they want you to?”

“Only if they give me a legitimate reason to do so.”  

He was about to turn, when he saw someone's dog through the fencing, and stooped down to pet it. It wagged its tail furiously.

“I think you’re just about the only friend I have right now,” he told it, then rising, “I hope I can count on you to be my friends as well, despite our differences, and to prove to the world that we’re not so easily swayed by panic.”

“You got it, Mr. President,” one of the crowd said, “even if I think you may be wrong. "

Others followed with various words of support as they departed, leaving the tomato lady and a few others on their own.

Lee nodded, with a grin, and  headed back to the White House with his escorts and disappeared inside.

“That was President Nelson-Crane,” the reporter in the field said, “in an impromptu speech from the White House lawn. Most of the protestors have left. Meanwhile, there has been no word of the alien spaceships moving an inch or trying to make contact. It is hopeful that Admiral Nelson will discover a way to communicate. We will keep you posted.”

I motioned Sparks to turn the monitor off and returned my attention to the SecNav, still on the line.

“Talk about crowd control,” he said. “You know, Harriman, I never thought I’d say this, but I’m damn glad your boy's our president. Let the assholes think what they will. He’s doing the right thing.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Sparks called out. “It’s the skipper for you! Er, I mean, the president. On the videophone. It’s not a good signal but if I delete the SecNav it might help with reception.”

“Go ahead Harriman,” the SecNav said. "I'm out.”

“Do you want to take it here," Sparks asked, " or in your cabin? It's scrambled either way."

“My cabin. Chip, you come too,” I added, as we raced to my cabin, our fingers crossed that we wouldn’t lose the signal.

Chip turned on the videophone and we waited for the image to clear.

“Lee, are you all right?” I asked gently as he came into view. He hadn’t wiped any of the tomato goo off, as he sat in front of the Oval Office’s videophone.

“You saw?”

“Way to go talking to them, bro,” Chip said and immediately regretted so informal a greeting. “Mr. President.”

“Didn’t I tell you both you were exempt from calling me that? Especially in private.”

“Yeah, well…”

“And I thought congress was difficult to deal with,” Lee tried to make light of it. “You don’t know how much I’d rather be there, aboard Seaview with you, receiving orders from this office, instead of having to give them.”

“Lee, I have a theory about why the ships are stationary.”

“Go on,” he said, and prepared himself an Alka Selzer.

“No proof, not a shred of evidence, but I’ve begun to wonder if they want us to attack.”

“But why?” Chip asked.

“I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“This hovering has everyone on edge, including me," Lee said after downing the medicinal drink. "It’s as if they know Earth is in a state of panic that just keeps worsening the longer they stay immobile. Playing on our fears…I just can’t understand what they want with Earth. To explore, to use, or to destroy?”

“I don’t know, son.”

“Well, even if they want to destroy us,” Chip said, “they can’t get us all. There are always survivors.”

“Not necessarily with that technology, but,” Lee mused, “wait a minute. Survivors. Survivors would do anything to stay alive…and be willingly enslaved? Could that be it? The aliens might want Earthlings as slave labor?”

“Possible,” I said, “or to harvest our resources without anyone left alive to stop them.”

“What a mess,” Lee said, running a hand through his head, his hand coming away with goo. “Mom's call got through earlier. She was crying. I wish Emily's flights weren't taking so long for her to get to Santa Barbara. She'd be able  to calm her down...well, back to business. The SecNav said you had a theory?"

“I thought  that it might be somehow brainwashing people to mob violence.”

“I wouldn’t put it pass the aliens. But not everyone’s affected so I doubt it.”

“True…what are you going to do, Lee?”

“What can I do? Take a shower, then make another broadcast, but…I think this time I’ll address myself directly to the aliens. None of those  ‘please reply’ messages. Something like ‘get your asses down here and talk to us!...just kidding, Harry.”

“I wish I could be there with you, son. ”

“I’d better let you go before the chief steward checks on me. They tend to mother me here. Ordering me to eat, sleep, God, I haven’t had much of a wink since I took office.”

“Hot chocolate, Lee,” Chip said.

“You think I haven’t been guzzling it down? What’d I’d give for a cup of Cookie’s coffee.”

“You don’t need any stimulants to keep you awake!”

“No, I just miss it. Well, here comes my chief babysitter. Goodbye Harry, Chip. Godspeed.”

“God be with you too… Mr. President.”

He smirked and said, “Not for long. Oh, I won’t quit. But only a few more months to go, if we survive this, that is,” he added and ended the call.

I have no doubt the aliens will be listening to Lee’s broadcast. What then, is anyone’s guess.