CHAPTER 57
AROUND FIVE IN THE EVENING one of the many servants knocked, was allowed entry, then stuck his head in the door. “Your Majesty, the televised landing is beginning.”
Raheem nodded. “We will join everyone shortly. Please ensure that our visitors are seated immediately.” The servant nodded in return and left.
This information hadn’t come as a surprise, since I’d just heard from Chuckie again. Getting the nuclear nations of the world to back down from readying their launch codes had seemed like a near thing, despite Jeff, Uncle Mort, Mom, and Olga having been on the phones with most of those who we didn’t want pushing buttons down, but they got it done. Mostly.
Surprising absolutely no one, North Korea ignored everyone’s requests and warnings. Their nukes launched, fizzled, and fell right back down onto their own missile silos where they didn’t explode but did ensure that all North Korea would be doing was digging out for a little while. Sent up a mental thank you to ACE as I shoved one last tea sandwich in my mouth while I packed up my notebook and such.
Raheem chuckled. “I love to see a Western woman with an actual appetite.”
“Yeah, you had me at the tea service.”
He laughed, stood, and helped me up. I grabbed my purse and rolling bag, took his arm, and we headed out to join everyone else to watch the Themnir land and be greeted.
We walked arm-in-arm, me rolling my bag and purse along, and I actually got to look around a little, since we weren’t having whispered conversations in the halls. The palace was ornate and airy at the same time, loaded with opulent furnishings. And yet it managed to be rather welcoming. “It’s a beautiful place.”
The king smiled. “I’m glad you find it so.”
We reached the theater to find some of the king’s guards and Len and Kyle waiting for us. The guards held the doors open for us while Raheem continued to escort me into the theater. This Queen Regent gig did have its perks.
Unsurprisingly, the king had a very nice theater with comfortable seats. There were also less comfortable seats, and they were in the back half of the theater. Noted that those from my entourage who were considered important had the cushy seats, meaning all the aliens, Queen Renata, Rahmi, and Rhee included. Thankfully, Mona was also in a good seat, as was Antoinette, with White in between them.
Mahin, Claudia, Lorraine, and Colette had good seats, too. Bummer for Francine, but presumed she had a TV of her own. Or, rather, that we did in my supposedly gigantic suite. This was really like an actual movie theater, much more so than what we had at the White House.
Those who were thought to be on the servant side of the house were in the less comfy chairs, meaning Camilla and pretty much anyone considered to be my security, Reader and Tim included, though I didn’t see Wruck in the room. Len and Kyle were required to stand in the back, along with Raheem’s guards, the better to tackle or shoot attackers, apparently.
Other than the security personnel, none of the men who had been in the conference room when we’d entered the palace were here. Presumed they were at the Burj Khalifa already. Either that or they had their own theater. Really, both were quite possible.
The king and I had the best seats, and I had enough legroom that the rolling bag and my purse weren’t in the way. The theater was large and ornate. It was really like a Golden Age movie theater, complete with gilding that I hoped was paint but was probably real gold on the various moldings, columns, and cornices. Was really glad again that Dad wasn’t with me on this excursion—there was no way he could have handled all the wealth being casually displayed everywhere.
“Where is the religious contingent?” I asked Raheem.
“Somewhere else, where nothing we say will affect them and vice versa. They have their own viewing area, never fear. And palace guards are there with your security teams to ensure that nothing untoward happens.”
Chose not to ask if they were with the others who’d been in the arrival room before, or if there were three or more theaters in the palace. Took some real self-control, but I managed it.
Theater or not, there wasn’t a lot of time to request popcorn and a Coke, as the screen went live just as Raheem and I got seated.
It was early morning on the East Coast, but it was a sunny day. All the better to watch the new aliens arrive.
There was Mr. Joel Oliver in all his glory, reporting live at the scene. He’d tidied up a bit from how he’d dressed when I’d first met him, but his clothes were still baggy enough that I couldn’t tell if he was muscular or if the baggy was there to hide a slight pudge. He’d refused to shave his beard once he’d been accepted into the legitimate media and he wore his hair in an unruly style to, presumably, show that he was still a maverick.
Didn’t pay a lot of attention to what Oliver was saying. It was the usual blah, blah, blah about how this was an historic day for all of Earth-kind. He was being very careful to not use the words “human” or “humanity” or even “mankind” and was instead using the word “people.” Wasn’t sure if he’d come up with that spin alone or if he’d been briefed on what to expect, but I was all for the effort.
The camera moved to Jeff, who was standing at the bow of the ship, hair and suit jacket ruffling in the wind. He looked beyond dreamy and totally presidential. Or like he was starring in an action movie. Both, really. Missed him tons right now. Sure, we hadn’t been apart all that long, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t ready to jump his bones at this exact moment.
Had no idea if he’d picked up my lust from halfway across the world or if someone had said something that made him turn, but Jeff looked over his shoulder at the camera and smiled a very sexy little smile. Then he turned back toward the descending spaceship.
The camera panned over the others on board—Muddy and Dew were there, along with Rohini, who was representing for the Shantanu since Bettini was with my massive entourage, Lakin, Wrolf and Willem covering the Canus Majorians, and Arup representing for the Feliniads. Realized that Vance was right—we needed to keep our part of Animal Planet with Francine so as to keep humans reassured that Aliens Were A-Okay.
Uncle Mort was there, too, but there weren’t many other humans or A-Cs. It made sense that Hochberg wasn’t on the boat—as Vice President he needed to be back in D.C. But I didn’t see a lot of other people I’d have expected to try to get into the picture, for good or bad.
The camera panned away from the deck of the ship and had us looking upward again. The Roving Planet was even more impressive when it was entering Earth’s airspace. It still looked like a giant Death Star Atomizer to me, but to see it compared to the boat Jeff and the others were on—the largest Coast Guard cutter on the East Coast, the USCGC Hamilton—was to truly realize the magnitude of what was happening. The cutter was to the Roving Planet as a Poof was to a blue whale.
And blue was the operative word. Closer up, the neon blue of the spinning rings was even brighter and prettier. The round ship on the inside of the rings was a lighter blue. Realized my FLOTUS color matched the Themnir’s ship. Hoped this was a good sign but didn’t bet on it.
“It’s a pity the President does not have a yacht to entertain these visitors,” Raheem said.
“President Carter sold the one we had way back when. He felt it was excessive.”
“I’m sure he did.” Apparently Raheem had a sarcasm meter he’d been hiding, because he was easily at eight on the scale.
“I’m sure the Hamilton will be fine.” I wasn’t. Had no idea how many Themnir were in this ship, but even if it was nominally staffed for its size, there was no way they could all fit on the cutter.
“How do you plan to move these visitors?” Raheem asked, obviously reading my mind. Or merely doing the same math that I was. “I cannot believe that all who are coming will fit onto that one small ship.”
Refrained from asking if Raheem thought the ship was small because he had one that was larger or if it was just that the Roving Planet was so gigantic in comparison to the Hamilton that there was presumably no way that everyone in it could fit on the cutter. Decided not to ask, since I shared his concern.
“The Roving Planet is really not that much bigger than Drax’s helicarrier,” Vance, who was sitting on my other side, said quietly. “It’s the layout that makes it look larger.”
“Well, that and the spinning neon propulsion system. Wonder if it turns off and, if it doesn’t, how it’s going to safely land in the ocean.” Looked at Raheem out of the corner of my eye.
He smiled at me. “Feel free to discuss whatever is necessary. This is both historic and something you’ll be having to discuss with many others shortly. If your people feel that they need to brief you on anything, they should feel free to do so.”
“We—well, really I, tend to talk a lot while we’re ingesting information.”
Raheem was really trying not to laugh. “So my intelligence has shared with me. Please go ahead, I’m sure I’ll find it most educational, especially if I get to add in as well.”
“Absolutely,” Vance said.
“Frankly, I’m curious,” Raheem said. “Where is the military? Other than the Coast Guard, I mean.”
Realized he was right—there was no evidence of any other ships or aircraft. Felt worry hit—it was one thing to not have Jeff with a lot of other people nearby. It was another to allow an alien ship to land without some sort of protection for the President in evidence.
Vance did a quiet cough. “There’s protection. It’s just cloaked.”
Relief washed over me. “The Vatusan ships?”
He nodded but we all stopped talking because the spaceship was almost down. Everyone was silent now, as the world watched Earth’s first out and proud alien arrival.
It took a few minutes, but the Roving Planet finally landed gently on the Atlantic Ocean. And it was clear that the landing was gentle, because the cutter wasn’t swamped and there were no large waves created. The ship bobbed a bit more, discernable due to the handheld cameras bobbing, but that was it.
The spinning neon bands stopped spinning and collected together as if they were the equator for the Roving Planet, settling in neatly. Eight bands, each of slightly larger diameter, radiated out like Blue Saturn’s Rings. Once they were aligned together, they stopped glowing, seemingly turned off.
And there the giant mini-world was, just, sort of floating in the water, about halfway submerged. How it wasn’t sinking was beyond me. Possibly the rings acted as a flotation device when they were together and around the ship in this way, because they were sitting on the water.
“Nicely done,” Raheem said, while Oliver did the speculation without information so near and dear to so many journalists’ hearts. Said speculation sounded a lot like what I’d been thinking, right down to the flotation device idea. Nice to see that Oliver and I were in tune. Raheem’s next question wrenched me right back to the right here and right now. “What will these, ah, people be like?”
Mossy moved from his seat and came to where we were. “I believe that I have the most information about the Themnir, and I think you would prefer that I not shout while I share it.” Vance moved like he was getting up but Mossy put his hand up. “No need. I’m fine with standing right now.”
“Thank you,” Raheem said. “We appreciate your consideration.”
Mossy turned to the screen. “Your concerns about a military escort are, as you will see, of no actual worry. The Themnir are extremely pacifistic.”
“And the Greeks gave the Trojans a lovely horse as a gift, a gift which contained many soldiers who were not pacifistic,” Raheem pointed out.
Realized he had an extremely legitimate concern. We were trusting that the Turleens, Wruck, and any number of other people were correct in their assessments and not all working together in some sort of gigantic Take Over The Earth conspiracy.
Sure, Algar and ACE had pretty much said that Muddy was right on with his intel, but they didn’t always tell me everything. In fact, they never told me everything. They gave me fiddly little clues that I had to work out and hope I’d guessed correctly.
And my husband was essentially alone, a sitting duck for whatever the Themnir might choose to throw at him. My analogy from earlier came back to me. Cows were pacifistic, but they could certainly kick a man to death if they were roused.
Focused on not panicking because there wasn’t a lot I could do right now. Christopher was with Jeff somewhere, and Chuckie too, I was sure, and no matter what, they weren’t going to be faster than the Flash or smarter than Batman. And Jeff was Superman—he’d handle it, whatever “it” was going to be.
A ramp opened from the side of the Roving Planet. Held my breath. Here it was, good or bad, the official First Contact that all the world was watching.
“Here they come,” Oliver shared from the deck, sounding excited beyond belief. “The world waits in breathless anticipation!”
The first Themnir started down the ramp. And everyone in the theater gasped. Gasps of shock and horror.