Waking Gods

  BORTAC units were deployed this morning at the request of the Port Director. Attempts at clearing the bridge with 37mm gas guns were unsuccessful.

  It is the opinion of this office that CBP personnel, even with increased support from the National Guard and local law enforcement, are no longer able to secure the port of entry within current use-of-force parameters.

  It is our recommendation that use of lethal force be authorized on a discretionary basis immediately, at all southern ports of entry.

  FILE NO. 1578

  INTERVIEW WITH BRIGADIER GENERAL EUGENE GOVENDER, COMMANDER, EARTH DEFENSE CORPS

  Location: EDC Headquarters, New York, NY

  —Goddammit! They’re gonna kill us all!

  —Have all the robots released their gas?

  —Yes they did, simultaneously.

  —All thirteen of them?

  —All but the one in Madrid. He might be waiting for his friends to catch up. We’ll know soon enough. If it’s anything like London, they’ll be done in twenty minutes.

  —How are we responding?

  —Responding? What the hell do you want me to do?

  —I meant the countries under attack. Have any of them retaliated?

  —They sent some ground troops in India.

  —Through the gas?

  —They wore masks. I know, stupid.

  —Did the robot vaporize them?

  —It didn’t have to. They died before they even got out of the transport trucks. It’s mayhem over there. Mass panic. People trampled to death, thousands, maybe tens of thousands. There are cars, trucks driving through crowds. Elephants … Human nature is ugly sometimes. The Russians and the French sent fighter planes after theirs. Nothing happened, except for a big hole half a mile wide. They tried bombing Moscow about ten minutes ago.

  —To no avail, I presume.

  —It’s hard to see through the fog, but we know the robot’s still there. There’s probably not much left of Moscow around it. Pretty ballsy, bombing their capital.

  —What did they have to lose?

  —Hmmm. They blew up the Kremlin all on their own.

  —There would be no one left alive inside.

  —Maybe, but there would have been something to go back to, in two hours, or two weeks, or two years. Now there’s probably a decade of construction waiting for them if they ever want to make Moscow habitable again.

  —Perhaps they wanted the satisfaction of knowing the aliens will not be able to use their infrastructure when they land in masses.

  —You think they’re here to colonize?

  —Why else would they use a gas to get rid of the population? They have the ability to obliterate everything in an instant. The only reason I can think of is to keep the buildings intact.

  —I don’t think so.

  —Can you think of another reason?

  —Nope. But I still don’t think so.

  —Do you wish to elaborate, or is that the extent of your reasoning?

  —You’ve seen where I live.

  —You live in a hotel.

  —I meant outside the city.

  —I have, but I fail to see the point.

  —If you could build these things, these robots—they can make giant structures with a more or less self-sustaining energy source, solid light that can cut through metal, and God knows what else—would you wanna move in that crappy house? I have a white picket fence and a sick crab apple tree. The plumbing is like a hundred years old, the windows are drafty. There’s a good view, but that house is shit! Why would they want to live in there? I can’t imagine downtown Moscow has a lot more to offer.

  —Then—

  —I think you’re right. I think there’s a reason they’re using that gas and not vaporizing everything. I don’t know what that reason is, but I don’t think they’re looking for a place to stay. I just can’t figure out what they could possibly gain by wiping us off the planet.

  —Whatever their incentive may be, they will undoubtedly succeed if we do not find a way to stop them.

  —I don’t think you or I will be the ones to do it. If the science guys don’t come up with anything, there isn’t much we can do but watch.

  —NATO is preparing for a nuclear strike.

  —What? Are they crazy?

  —I did not suggest it, but as I do not have a viable alternative, I could not find a good reason to argue against it.

  —Goddammit! How about they’ll blow up millions of innocent folks? It won’t stay there long enough for us to evacuate. They’ll nuke a city full of people.

  —People who will undoubtedly die when the aliens attack.

  —Maybe, but at least we’re not doing the job for them! Oh, and it won’t work. You know it won’t work.

  —I do not know that.

  —You should. There’ll be fallout for hundreds of miles. They’ll contaminate the water, the soil, everything. People’ll get sick. People’ll die. A lot more people than that gas will kill, I tell you. They’ll die a shitty death too. This is a dumb idea. There’s no way to explain how dumb an idea this is.

  —There could be eighty million people breathing alien gas as we speak. There might be eighty million dead in less than twenty minutes. We have to do … something.

  —I told you: Rose can do something, the science team can. You and I can’t do anything, you made sure of that.

  —That is not true.

  —You’re a real piece of work, I hope you know that. I’m the commander of the EDC. That means I control the one and only thing on this planet that could fight, or at least distract the bad guys. Only that one thing is sitting in a hangar because someone didn’t wanna tell my pilots they had a daughter.

  —I did not know that they had a daughter.

  —You told me they did! That’s why I’m missing a pilot.

  —I merely relayed the information that was passed on to me by Ms. Papantoniou. I was never able to verify said information.

  —Well, you must think she’s telling the truth. You have that psychopath working in my lab now.

  —Her knowledge of genetics is the sole reason for her presence in this facility. She is unarguably a competent scientist and a very intelligent woman. However, neither of these things are any indication that she is telling the truth.

  —Then why not tell everyone? You’ve known for like a decade.

  —What I knew ten years ago and what Ms. Papantoniou is claiming now are very different things. The reason for my silence, then and now, should be self-evident. Ms. Resnik would have scoured the world to find her. She would have done so a decade ago.

  —And yet you thought it was a good idea to tell that criminal moron all about it.

  —I will admit that sharing vital information with Mr. Mitchell was a miscalculation on my part, one I am trying very hard to remedy, and that the timing of my mistake was unfortunate.

  —It’s the end of the world.

  —Very unfortunate.

  —That’s better.

  —If you allow me to focus this conversation on the problem at hand rather than on my personal shortcomings—

  —By all means.

  —When I said: “That is not true,” I was not refusing responsibility for our inability to act, I meant that there was something we could do. You are correct in stating that a permanent solution, if there is one, will come from Dr. Franklin and her team, but you and I should do what we can to give her some extra time.

  —How do you suppose we do that?

  —If we cannot stop the aliens from killing people, we can at the very least try to make the task more time-consuming.

  —How?

  —We could ask everyone living in large urban areas to find a less populated place of refuge.

  —Every city in the world? Are you out of your goddamn mi
nd?

  —We could start with every city of over two million people.

  —Have you looked out the window lately? There are forty-five thousand soldiers patrolling the streets of New York, twenty thousand police officers pulling sixteen-hour shifts. There’s looting, people are getting killed. They’re barely able to keep things under control, and that’s with us lying through our teeth telling them there’s nothing to worry about. What do you think’s gonna happen if we tell people they should leave? Besides, where would they go?

  —Farmland, perhaps.

  —They’re not ready for that. There’s no rural area in the world that can handle millions of refugees with no advance warning. There will be violence, sanitary issues, food shortages. Even if it worked, wouldn’t the places where people cluster become just as good a target for the aliens? If they can decimate a city in half an hour and move on to the next one instantaneously, I don’t think we’ll accomplish much by moving people around.

  —I was not suggesting that a mass exodus from urban areas would go smoothly. Not everyone would be able to leave, and many would no doubt perish or be injured in the process. I also did not imply that the resulting communities would be sustainable. They would exist in a state of complete lawlessness, and those who do not die in the violence that ensues would soon face famine, drought, and disease. That said, they could survive for a few days. Should Dr. Franklin and her team come up with a means of disabling the alien robots during that time, it will mean this many more people left alive. If they are unable to find a solution within a few days, I do not believe we have to worry about anyone facing dehydration or food shortages. My point is simply that it will take longer for them to kill us all if they have to do it one hundred thousand at a time.

  —OK, then. Let’s move some people around! I’ll get the UN to coordinate with governments. If we can get some NGOs involved, it might make things go a little easier.

  —Very well. I will leave you to it.

  —What are you gonna do?

  —Dr. Franklin and Ms. Papantoniou are going over the data from the London survivors. I will see if I can be of service.

  —What did you do with them? The survivors.

  —They have been quarantined.

  —Quarantined! I thought the whole point was that they weren’t sick.

  —I cannot explain why they were unaffected. I felt it was safer to keep them isolated.

  —Do you think they had anything to do with the attack?

  —I do not believe they were directly involved. I am, however, absolutely convinced that their survival was not coincidental. These people were chosen, somehow, whether they are aware of it or not.

  —Why?

  —I do not know. I have no hard evidence that they are anything but extremely lucky. However, I cannot help but think that they might not be entirely human.

  —Not entirely human … Like that friend of yours you won’t tell us about?

  —No, not quite. I believe my contact, despite never having actually stated that he is of alien descent, to be well aware of his extraterrestrial heritage. I would be surprised if these people were aware of anything. He is also … physically unique. I suspect his lineage leads fairly directly to the first aliens to descend upon us. The survivors—the ones I have had a chance to look at—seem perfectly normal. They do not show the same physiological peculiarities. They could be … distant cousins at best.

  —Ever thought of just asking them?

  —Unfortunately, I have.

  FILE NO. 1580

  INTERVIEW WITH JACOB LAWSON, REPORTER AND SURVIVOR OF THE LONDON ATTACK

  Location: FBI Safe House #141, New York, NY

  —STOP! Nooooo! AAAAAARRRRGGGHHH! Please stop! Please!

  —Tell me why.

  —My name is Jacob Lawson. I’m a reporter for the BBC. This is illegal. You can’t do this.

  —Evidently, I can. Tell me why.

  —I want my government to be notified. I wanna speak to a lawyer.

  —Tell me why.

  —Why what? I don’t fucking understand! NO! Stop! AAAAGGGGGGGHHHH!

  —Tell me why.

  —My name is Jacob Lawson. I’m a British citizen. Under the Vienna Convention, I ask that the British Consulate be notified of my … NO! No! No! AAAAGGGGGGGHHHH! STOP! Stop this! I can’t.… Why are you doing this? I … AAAAGGGGGGGHHHH!

  —Gentlemen, stop. Sir, take a moment to gather yourself. No one will hurt you now.

  —Why are you doing this? I’ve done nothing wrong!

  —Are you calm?

  —I don’t know what I’m doing here. I want to speak to the person in charge.

  —You should by now have little doubt as to who in this room is “in charge.” I asked if you were calm.

  —Am I … Yes. I’m calm.

  —Then, tell me why.

  —WHY WHAT?

  —It would seem really selfish to tell you how much I loathe these debriefings, given our respective situations, but I will tell you that I find your lack of cooperation disturbing. If it had not become such a cliché, I would tell you about the definition of insanity, but, in short, you should not expect the outcome to be any different if you keep refusing to answer. Again.

  —No! No! Don’t! Stop! STOP! NOOOAAAAARRRRGHHH!

  —Tell me why.

  —AAAAARRRRGHHH!

  —Tell me why.

  — …

  —Tell me why.

  — …

  —He is not responding. Wash his face with cold water. Thank you. Now please apply the ointment on his fingertips, generously.

  — … Oh God. Ahhhh! Thank you! Please make it stop.

  —This will numb the nerve endings in your hand. The needles these gentlemen have inserted in your fingertips caused a severe nervous reaction when they hit the bone. The pain should completely subside in a moment.

  —Thank you. Please stop hurting me!

  —Gentlemen, please remove the needles. Your body is in shock now, and you are slowly losing feeling in your right hand. Take a deep breath. They will not reinsert these needles into your hand.

  —Thank you! I can’t take any more of this.

  —On the contrary. I am taking great pains—if you will pardon the pun—to inflict as little damage to your body as is humanly possible. In some sense, most of the discomfort you have experienced here is your own creation. The needles these men are using are small, yet the nerve endings in your fingertips are very sensitive and the impulses they send to your brain and spinal cord leave you experiencing a suffering that is truly disproportionate to the physical damage that is being done. If you simply answered my question, you would recover very quickly from this unfortunate encounter, with little or no residual symptoms.

  —But I don’t know anything!

  —I was not finished. Should you, however, choose to persist in your refusal, minimal injury also means that these proceedings could go on almost indefinitely. You will not die of pain, but you will never get used to it. Pain is unique in that it does not show habituation or neural adaptation, like smell, or touch.

  —I don’t know what you want me to say! I haven’t done anything!

  —That said, you have already sustained some nerve damage in your right hand, and any new discomfort we attempt to produce will be proportionately diminished. I will let you rest for a minute or two, and when the pain is gone, we will start fresh with your left hand.

  —NO! Not the other hand! PLEASE! I’m begging you.

  —I realize you are in an unfamiliar locale, being questioned by people you do not know, but the events of the last twenty minutes should have made it clear that asking me to stop, however politely, will not be successful.

  —I’ll tell you anything you want.

  —I have been asking one very simple question ever since you arrived
, and you have refused to answer every single time.

  —I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t know anything! Tell me what you want and I’ll say it! Just stop. Please!

  —This is not my specialty. I am, however, acquainted with people who perform these debriefings on a regular basis, and they tell me that the anticipation of the pain that is to come is often harder to cope with than the pain itself. I do not know what shames me most, that I associate with these people, or that I have come to know that their claim is absolutely untrue. Shall we go again?

  —No! No! No!

  —Gentlemen, the left little finger, please.

  —No, no … AAAAAARRRGH!

  —Again.

  —AAAAAARRRGGH!

  —Tell me why.

  —Cough.

  —Deeper.

  —No … AAAAAAAAARRRGGGHHHH! AAAARRGGHHH!—cough.

  —Let us pause for a moment, so you can reflect on your answer.

  —Cough. Why what? What do you think I know?

  —I do not believe you know anything.

  —You … You wouldn’t be doing this … It’s safe to say you think I know something, something important.

  —Is it? Safe? As we speak, nearly tens of millions of people are dead or dying. What I believe is rather inconsequential at the moment. What I can prove is of the essence. I can no more afford to trust my feelings than I can afford to trust you. Shall we continue?

  —Wait! Wait! Please! What do you want to know? Why the aliens came to London? Why they attacked us? Why I’m alive and all those people died?

  —The answer to any of these questions would spare you more pain than you can possibly imagine.

  —But I don’t fucking know! I don’t know why those bloody aliens came. I don’t know what they want with us. I don’t know why they chose London. All I know is that everyone I ever cared about is dead, and I’m not.

  —Tell me why.

  —Don’t you think I would tell you if I knew? My son is dead! My wife is dead! My friends, my family. Do you think I wanted them dead? That I wouldn’t trade places with any of them if I could? Do you have any idea how much I wish I had died instead of my son?