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© By Gary Morton (2,900 words)
Sweat poured on his brow as the elevator raced down through rings of shield light. A loud hum and metallic thud knocked his ears as it hit bottom. Then he was out on the ramp and running for the escape train. Green uniforms swarmed in as he entered the tunnel -- too many men to beat and none of them supporters. Knowing this was the end he halted and raised his weapon. But he didn't hit the fire button, and in his moment of hesitation a hot dart whizzed in and bit the flesh just under his jaw. His hand went to his neck and he dropped the laser. As his vision
blurred he saw General Armers come into view. Clicking heels echoed as
the general stepped up; his face swam like loose rubber, his distorted
voice boomed. "You're mad, Mr. President, and you are to be incarcerated
until we can ascertain the extent of your illness. Tomorrow I will . .
. "
Side effects of the truth drugs had
him raving; he could feel his sweat-soaked suit clinging to
his body and big hands mangling his shoulders as they forced him down the
hall. The words seemed disconnected, like they weren't really his words.
Yet he could see dark faces melting under the verbal assault -- hissing
and guttural commands issuing from fat lips as they shoved him and wiped
his spittle from their brows. The cursed fools look like maniacs, he thought.
Wearing suits like astronauts to make it look respectable. They don't really
care who they brutalize -- and I'm the President, damn it!
He was the President, damn it! And
that meant no easy way out. Other lunatics could kill all sorts of folks
and have it forgotten and walk in a few years. Jeez, a few years, he thought.
What it must be like. And I've only been locked up a few days. I have special
privileges, yes. But special privileges are no consolation for people
like me. My life has been political power and working every day to change
the world -- advancing the cause of the people and democracy. Incarceration,
being powerless and pushed around like an animal -- it is a fate worse
than death. He put his hand to his chin -- and all these years we placed
so much stock in jailing people -- it is true that you can't learn at the
top. It is only here in the madhouse that I know we've been wrong all along.
Days passed like a repeating gun-metal dream. He had no visitors and his only friends were the watching cameras, guards and books. President Landan sat and read and grew tired of playing a fool's game of calm sanity and patience. Glancing at the wall clock he saw that it was noon. Slamming down a dusty Niven sci-fi hardcover, he looked out the window. It was a beautiful sunny day outside -- blue skies and drifting cloud fleece. The heavens had forgotten their agony and believed in paradise, perhaps a walk in the garden would help him do the same. Four burly CIA guards led him down the hall, then they waited for security clearance. The heavy metal door looked like something from a Federal Reserve bank vault -- yet when it opened it moved fast on a smooth cushion of air. From the open arch he could see down the staircase to the garden -- soft blue shadows, sunshine, flowers and foliage trembling in a gentle breeze for about as far as the eye could see. Near the end of the walk a portion of high stone wall rose and a force shield glittered. He knew they let patients wander freely in the garden because there was simply no escaping past the walls and embedded security devices. He felt like the President again as they walked down the steps in bright sunshine. At the bottom, the guards walked over to their own station at the head of the garden. President Landan strolled in the opposite direction, under the willows until he reached a duck pond. Stopping there he sat in the sunshine, thinking of the billions of people in world -- all of them supposedly being protected from him. A few minutes drifted by slowly, like the rippling waters were time itself. Blue sunspots slipped into his field of vision and as he squinted into the beams he saw something else -- a bright electric flash. It was distinct, washing his eyes with a kaleidoscope of color. A huge dragonfly came out of it, radiating silver as it buzzed to the ground in the long grass near him. President Landan stepped over to it for a closer look; and what he found was not a dragonfly. It looked to be a tiny space ship, crowned with a sparkling rotunda. He stepped back, feeling temporary amazement. Perhaps he really was mad if he could see such things. Then it occurred to him that the ship might be just another of the security devices. A space ship certainly would be interesting. The information he'd received before the coup was to the effect that aliens were on earth, but they were life size and not anything in miniature. More likely this was a sort of mobile camera sent in by the Russians or some international security agency. Feeling somewhat disappointed, President Landan turned to walk away -- but before he could take a step a form materialized in his path. The only word to describe it was alien -- a creature with smooth chalk-white skin and no clothing. It was humanoid but without sex organs. The eyes were perfect green ovals and seemed to bear great intelligence and spiritual light. Though it had appeared in the grass by the path he could see that it was actually floating there - as its ghostly feet did not touch the ground. Its mouth and nose were tiny and flat. He had some doubts as to whether it really was an alien -- it had appeared suddenly like a hologram, so perhaps that was all it was. "Identify yourself," the President said. "Certainly," said the alien, in a voice that seemed both childlike and honest. "I am an intergalactic outlaw named . . . . . . . . . . -- a name you certainly can't pronounce. You may call me Friend and note that my lips are not moving because I am speaking to you through the power of telepathy. The image you see is not really me as only my robots can actually leave the ship. I am appearing to you as a hologram representing what earthlings expect an alien to be." "Why have you come to me?" "It has to do with the reason I am here on Earth," said Friend. "I have been sentenced to death by an intergalactic court. Alas my days as an outlaw have come to an end. They have transported my ship here, locking me on this planet until 2 p.m. today. At that time a nuclear war is going to destroy this planet and all life with it. In twenty minutes it will all be over. I discovered you through media reports on your planet -- I believe you may have the power to stop this war as you are the president." "I am the President, but I am also in a madhouse. They will not obey my commands. And that means I can't stop the war." "I see. Explain to me why you are incarcerated and perhaps and I can somehow solve this problem." "I am not really mad. A number of my own intelligence agencies and the military decided to take over the government. To do that they put together a surveillance case to prove that I am mad. There has not been any legal trial and I haven't been impeached. By law I am still the president but I can't enforce the law. The phony investigation began when I told General Armers my theory on world population. It seems to me that the more population grows, the less people care about one another. In older times human misery was a powerful force that touched everyone, and it made people care. Now in the modern world with its teeming billions no one cares. People die like flies, and as we come almost shoulder to shoulder with our neighbours we grow more distant from them. You should see how motorists in a city hate one another. You could spotlight any individual in a crowd and find that person to be lonely and bitter -- burning inside with anger because he is unloved and untouched by those around him. Yet the truth is that he has no feelings or care for others. He wants people to love him when he doesn't love them. In a world that doesn't care the human caress has been replaced by the controlling hand of institutions -- we made it that way so society can function even after it has died. The theory of evolution only favours that which lends to survival --- and mankind may well be finding a way to mechanize and survive in a world that no longer needs emotion -- a spiritually dead world that keeps human flesh alive. Flesh is becoming immortal; the human spirit is dying. I told General Armers my theory one day during a walk in the Rose Garden. And he showed interest, especially when I said that perhaps we need a lot less people in the world, and then at that point they would start to care again. Like in older times" "Interesting. Very much so," said the alien. "The problem I have is that there isn't much wrong with this theory of yours. And I don't see how the general could use it against you." "Ah, but he did use it against me. It was the basis for their whole investigation -- which in the end proved me a madman who wants to launch a nuclear attack. An attack that would create a world with far fewer people. Armers twisted all the facts and lined the whole of society up against me." "And would you have done it?" "Of course not. I am not mad. I had the power to destroy the world and I didn't do it. When you say this world will be destroyed when the clock hits two p.m., that is because General Armers is going to destroy it. A fact I would not have known had you not come along. It is unfortunate that your judges can see the future, because that means I can't change it, though it seems that I might be able to do so." "My judges see the future but if you can somehow change it -- then we'll have the lot of them beat. Their policy is not to interfere -- so if the earth does not destroy itself they will not do it. If you can block the nuclear war and save us I could do you a big favour. I could use my ship and nasty alien powers to discredit your enemies and put you back in as president." "An offer I would not refuse if it weren't for one point. As a sort of space rogue, you may perhaps want to make yourself president or somehow powerful. In that case I would help you and you'd kill me and go about your own business." "You are very clever -- but I can easily demonstrate why that is not the case. First, I think you really are a madman and leaving you in as President here on earth would be a great pleasure. The second is escape -- I want to duck out quickly. As soon as it passes two there will be no envelope holding me, but they could try to send a ship in to grab me. I plan to be far off on my merry way before they ever get here. My escape will also give me great status as an outlaw. I will have escaped and I will have saved Earth while our mighty leaders were prepared to just sit and watch it blow up. I will be a folk hero of sorts." "I can't say that you haven't got me there. So let's get on with it. General Armers knows that there is a special defense system to block nuclear attacks and other warfare. This system will also trace the source of the attack and retaliate with new energy weapons that will destroy the perpetrators. In his haste to seize power General Armers killed the only other two people with knowledge of the system and how to activate it. It is a complete robot affair that involves no human hands. I can activate it -- but they don't know that. They believe two dead scientists have disabled it because that is what I told them while under the effects of their truth drugs. This may surprise you but I have been programmed to lie without that being detected." "Marvelous," said the alien. "I too have been programmed in such a way. I also have the ability to tell the truth -- which is that we have only ten minutes left -- so you better tell me how to activate the defenses rather quickly." "The transmitter that will activate the system is part of my
body. My wisdom tooth to be exact. If you can fly your ship into my open
mouth and extract it you will have the key. Break away the enamel and you'll
find a setup with two encoded switches. The reason the system is off now
is because once you activate it incredible amounts of power will be used.
Draining most of the world grid. The ideal mode of operation is to turn
it on when the enemy bombs are in the air."
As a dentist the alien Friend was definitely not a professional. President Landan rested against a willow trunk, grimacing and groaning as the bumbling alien burned his gums with laser cutters. The full extraction took about a minute, and when the job was done, the ship flew out of his mouth and disappeared as it had arrived -- in a flash of light. Rising, the President wiped the blood from his lips, swallowed and walked over to the pond. He stared at his aging reflection in the rippling water and smiled grimly. In two minutes, if the alien had been truthful about the time, the aliens would launch their attack. The transmitter he had given them would not disable the system, it would come on automatically -- meaning that the alien invaders would destroy themselves. Of course there was still General Armers and the rest of the traitors. He'd known of their plot all along and had let it go ahead in order to draw the aliens to him. There would be no need for the General and a few hundred other traitors the aliens had bought. Getting rid of them would be difficult -- trapped in a madhouse, no one knowing the truth of the phony case against him. It was a situation that definitely looked impossible -- yet he knew he would change those odds. He had another theory he hadn't mentioned to General Armers. It was regarding traitors and how letting them take over was the better plan -- that way you'd be sure to get them all when you swept them up. Looking to the sky he saw a chain of violet explosions in the
south. It had begun and the alien ships were exploding. Lines of energy
flew like sparkling rain high in the stratosphere as the defense system
did its work. Brilliant silver light erupted from the face of the sun and
moments later the bright sunshine on the grounds had become the electric
shading of a sinister world of war. President Landan saw the CIA men dashing
toward him, shouting like frightened children as they ran. Frightened children
looking for a leader who could save them.
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