My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

2

My heart was in my throat as Ski piloted FS1 across the Pacific and Arctic toward Washington. I was upset about leaving Emmie behind so abruptly and hoped this was only going to be a short gathering of the minds for to discuss was affecting communications.

The only way to find me so quickly at the Bowling Club had been due to the latest GPS on my new watch. Ski  also told me that just as he was launching the Flying Sub from Seaview, on a simple topographical charting mission, she’d been placed on red alert. Not war alert, but red alert nonetheless. He didn’t know any more than that, except he was ordered to find me and bring me to Washington, 'no detours'. He’d also been told that this time, the usual ban on supersonic speeds over the continent was lifted. In addition, the all civilian aircraft had been ordered down to the nearest airports, and flights were stopped from taking off.

Aside from the military not under the edict, we were the only other aircraft allowed in wild blue yonder.

Since the Lord Howe Island’s Guard station (the closest allied military division) hadn’t contacted me with any military problem, I could only assume it might be something more serious than sunspots interfering with world-wide communication problems. Perhaps some rogue scientist employed by an enemy power?

We were halfway into our flight when we ran into some turbulence and I ordered Ski to pull us up into a higher altitude in the hopes of flying out of it. But it was a lot higher than normal. In fact we were at max. Any higher and we’d rate as astronauts. And be quite dead from lack of oxygen and the improper pressurization.

That’s when we saw the reason for my summons and Seaview’s red alert.

Spaceships!

They were above us, spread out, equidistant to each other.

“They ours, sir?” Ski asked hopefully.

“Not that I know of. No US insignia, or…anyone else’s.”

“Damn.”

“No doubt they’ve spotted us, but they haven’t done anything. Try to make contact.”

“This is FS1, please identify,” Ski tried for about five minutes but to no avail. “I guess they’re unfriendlies.”

“Or their systems are incompatible with radio,” I said.

“You think it's an invasion from outer space?”

“Possible.”

“Too bad the skip can’t use his x-ray vision to see what’s inside them.”

“I don't think his X-ray vision can extend that far. In the meantime, make sure we're recording and sending to the Space Exploration Agency.”

 “Yes sir.”

“I think we should go down to our former altitude, even if it will be a bit bumpy.”

We said nothing more for the rest of the flight, each of us consumed with our own thoughts and fears. We landed without incident on the Potomac and were met dockside by marines. A major ordered Ski to stay with the flying sub. I was escorted into a blackout  window sedan, the major accompanying me for the ride to the Pentagon, a police escort in front and behind us.

As we drove, nobody we passed was screaming or anything, so I assumed this was still a very top secret matter. So far.

There were no anxious looks toward the major and I as we were met by an aide at the Pentagon. He escorted us through and down to the bowels of the lowest basement, the very nerve center down deep below where the real work was done.

The conference room had armed guards posted outside, where several military aides were standing around waiting for orders.

“Admiral Nelson,” the SecNav said, just one of the military’s top brass greeting me as I entered, the major having retreated back into the hallway. “Glad you could get here on such short notice. I can see by your expression that you know why the president wants your input along with ours. I'm assuming the spaceships are still invisible to the general public, even with telescopes or zoom lenses from airplanes.”

“We only saw them when we flew above some turbulence. My question, enemy or extra-terrestrial?”

“We don’t know. Dr.’s Beekman and Applebee have been called to help ascertain the probabilities from our satellite imaging.”

“I told you, Mr. Secretary,  we don't know that it's an invasion," a familiar voice interrupted our musings as its owner emerged from a different door. The president’s voice. Lee’s voice.

All of us stood to attention at Lee’s arrival and so did I, but I felt foolish still clothed in my walking shorts and tropical print short sleeved shirt.

Lee gave me a slight smile, and sat at the head of the table, motioning all to sit.

“I’ll get straight to the point," he said, "when we began to have communication issues we assumed, as did NOAA, that the cause was natural. Thanks to our newest military satellites, we know that isn’t the case.”

“Nelson saw them in flight,” the SecNav said.

“Har…Admiral?” Lee asked.

This was not the time for family familiarity.

“We tried to make contact," I said, "but their systems might not read ours.”

“Any sign of place of origin or aggression?”

“None at all. And our sensors couldn’t read the materials they’re made of. Which means….”

“They’re aliens from outer space!” the secretary of the Air Force said.

“What are we waiting for?” General Worth of the army asked, exasperated. “Blast them out of the sky!”

“Why?” Lee asked calmly.

“Why?” Worth replied, incredulous. “Because they’re the biggest threat to mankind in history! What kind of a president are you?”

“The kind that won’t order an unprovoked attack on something that, so far, has given us no reason to fire.  Have they made any kind of aggressive move? No.”

“They knocked out our communications!”

“Not entirely. And that could be unintentional.”

“You’ve been adrift from your submarine too long, Mr. President. A good commander is proactive!”

“I admit that I’ve only been in office three weeks. But  only a fool can think that a civilization with the kind of technology to travel through the stars could be easily thwarted by any of our weapons. That doesn’t mean, however, that we’ll sit idly by. We will defend ourselves if attacked and I’m ordering all of our military to red alert. But I also demand that none of us are trigger happy. I refuse to allow us to  be the instigators of an inter-galactic war we probably can’t win, let alone survive. We won’t fire first. Besides, perhaps they’ve only run out of gas, so to speak.”

The officers looked at Lee as if he were out of his mind.

“Would you care to tell your colleagues," Lee said, "about that little incident we had with another alien, General Worth? Surely you’re aware of the report Admiral Nelson sent from Seaview. Proving alien existence and that this particular alien, had run out of fuel, but left with a loan of our strontium, knowing he’d been treated as a friend, not an enemy as General Tobin insisted he be. ”

There were a lot of raised eyebrows and questioning looks toward Worth, who nodded in acquiescence of the truth regarding that affair.

“I will admit,” Lee continued, “that of the aliens encountered by Seaview, this was the only one without malicious intent. Even so, the incident could have escalated into global destruction if he’d been attacked, even with our primitive missiles.

 “Yes, primitive. We’re no match for the technology that is encircling the Earth as we speak. For now, we’ll welcome these aliens as visitors instead of as enemies unless or until thy make an aggressive move. I want that clearly understood. In the words of Teddy Roosevelt, we will speak softly, but carry a big stick. I’ll be addressing the nation and our allies in a few minutes. I won’t hide the situation.”

“They’re sure to panic!” the secretary of the Army said.

“Not if we don’t. I have faith in my countrymen. And, in fact, I’m hoping the visitors have been listening to our communicaqtions. And will do us the courtesy of communicating with us. Any questions?”

“I think you’re making a mistake,” General Worth said, “and I can’t stand by and support you in this as my commander in chief.”

“Is that how you all feel?”

Silence.

“A bunch of lily livered cowards!” Worth shouted.

“Don’t be an ass, Wade,” the SecNav said.

“The constitution allows him to be one,” Lee said, “but not in that uniform.”

“You have my resignation as of this moment.”

“Fair enough, 'Mr'.Worth…meeting adjourned. Dismissed.”

I couldn’t help notice that some of the defense secretaries patted Worth on the shoulder sympathetically, but none of the other military officers had. They hadn’t agreed with him, at least not verbally.  So ingrained with military discipline that even if they didn’t agree with Lee, they wouldn’t break the oath to follow the commander-in-chief’s orders.

I tried to look  busy, fumbling with my carton of ciggarettes instead of following the group out. Until Lee and I were alone.

He was still seated, his hands folded in front of him, looking down at them.

“Lee?” I asked gently, coming over to him.

“What do you think, Harry?" he asked, looking up at me. "Am I doing the right thing?”

“Only time will tell that, son. All you can do is what you believe to be the right thing.”

“And risk annihilation of our world as we know it.”

“Either way son, there is no correct answer. But this is what I’d probably do if I had the big chair.”

“Probably being the operative word,” he said, "but thanks. Well, I’m off to the Oval Office for the broadcast. I’d ask you to stay but I really need you aboard Seaview, everything primed and ready in case we have to fight. I know Chip has the conn, but I need your scientific mind to work on anything you might discover about our guests, even if you're down deep below.”

“Right away s... Mr. President.”

He didn’t even notice my quick catch, pulling back 'son', so immersed in his own thoughts and the coming broadcast.

The major was waiting for me, and I noticed the change in everyone’s attitudes as we headed to the exit. The Pentagon had, in just a few minutes gone into ‘wartime readiness’. Some soldiers and sailors had already changed into fatigues.  

Lee had left the building by a different route and I missed being able to give him more of a goodbye. My heart ached for him. But I knew that in this hour of perhaps his nation's, and world’s greatest need, he’d do the right thing as he believed it to be.