George W. sat down.
“What the heck?” he said and looked at the Colonel.
“Sir, I’m Colonel Robertson. I was heading up the operation until these two NSA representatives interceded. The Major was in communication with a small group of E.T.s in the New Mexico desert, when a military operation was launched by the NSA to attempt to capture the E.T.s concerned.
“The operation failed, and the colony is still safe, but the Major has some important, no, vital issues to discuss with you, and you alone,” Jim said, looking at Michelle.
<<Shit, Jim, you don’t half wait until the last minute to show your true colours.>>
<<Michelle, maybe I’m able to see beyond the national boundaries for the first time. Or maybe I just want you to win through.>>
The tall girl smiled, turning her attention to the goldfish-like President.
“Issues?”
“Mr President. The aliens are widespread, and on most continents. Although Western Europe is too heavily populated by humans at present. These people, and they are people, even if they do not look like us, are happy to live where we don’t. They have no designs on our planet, and are content with existing facilities, and do not require more.”
“How can we know that?”
“Their race is dying. Oh, it will take a long time, but their birth rate exceeds by their death rate by three to one, so it’s set to decline further in time. They have everything they need, so want solely to co-exist in peace. They need nothing from us and are willing to pay us rent.”
“Rent?”
“Rent. They will pay for their colonies, and the payment will be in medical technology and other peaceful science related technology. They will not be involved in the supply of anything which can be adapted or utilised as a weapon or an instrument of control.”
“Just like that?”
“No. They request to be left alone, and to be allowed just to exist without interference. But this has to be a UN sponsored deal, will ALL nation states included.”
The President frowned. He was a politician, so his first reaction was naturally parochial - how to keep this in-house, so to speak. However, he realised that this might prove difficult, but not impossible.
Michelle was ahead of him.
“Mr President, please believe me when I tell you that the last part is non-negotiable. It’s either the whole world, or none. They have the resources to up-sticks and leave, and believe me, they will make a mess doing that,” she said.
“Is that a threat, Major?”
“No, Mr President, it’s a promise.”
The pair of them stared at each other, while the President was unaware that she was gently removing the overpowering feelings of nationalism that were preventing him from seeing the bigger picture.
“Sir, this country is strong. We can gain more by brokering this deal, than we can lose by attempting to railroad it. There are elements of the world that see the United States as the Great Satan. If we can be seen as an instrument for peace and co-operation, then our enemies would be placed in a difficult position and find themselves without backing or refuge,” she said.
George turned and looked out of the window.
“Mr President. The man whom historians credit with such an act will be destined for greatness,” Jim added.
George was without his customary advisers, so had no way of telling whether what these people were saying was true.
<<What will convince you?>> came a voice inside his head.
He spun round, and Michelle realised that for the first time an Alien was communicating with the President directly.
She looked at the device in her hand. It was a small grey cube, and seemed to serve no purpose. She smiled, realising that their technology was far beyond her understanding.
<<My name is Phollz. I represent a group that have a colony on your land. The one called Michelle speaks the truth. She is our emissary.>>
George Bush stared from one to the other, frightened and totally confused.
“Who of you is doing this?” he asked.
Michelle opened his mind, and suddenly the truth was revealed. The man paled and trembled, as he realised that humans really were not alone.
Phollz spent several minutes in private conversation with the President. Michelle could have eves-dropped, but didn’t, as she knew exactly how the conversation would go.
Finally, she sensed that Phollz had gone, as the President looked tired and drawn, sprawled in his chair.
The NSA agents seemed to be recovering some of their wits, as they began to look confused as Michelle released them from her control.
The President looked at Michelle, and then at Jim.
“Okay, so what do we do?” he asked.
“You’re the President. But I suggest that you call some heads of state, and arrange a summit,” Jim said.
He nodded, but seemed out of his depth.
“Sir, it would be advisable to form a close committee to deal with this issue. One that reports directly to you,” Michelle said.
He nodded again.
“But who?” he asked.
Two hours and twenty minutes later, the Trillium Committee was formed. Professor Richard Standen from Yale University; Rachel Cumming, a lawyer working for minorities rights; Stewart FitzPatrick, an ex-military surgeon-General, now attached to an agency with special responsibility for overseas aid; three members of the foreign affairs select committee, one NSA representative, and four generals were all assembled in a committee room at the White House.
Major Michelle Carter, Colonel Robertson and Major Bennett were also members with a special executive role.
The President called them to order and to the newcomers utter incredulity, explained the circumstances and their brief.
Professor Richard Standen burst out laughing, as his eyes shone with vindication. He had been trying for years to get someone to listen to his theories of alien colonisation, and that this was a global issue. He had written several papers on the measures that he considered necessary to bring alongside other nations in order to engineer the peaceful co-existence of both peoples.
The President told them that they were responsible for making it happen without bringing any danger or threat to the USA or those colonies already established.
“Mark my words. There are military members of this committee, whose presence is necessary to establish that there is no military threat to this country at any time, and that we can use our military might to preserve peace,” the President concluded.
General Fitzpatrick was appointed chairman, but was left in no uncertain terms that the tall and very attractive Major was their main avenue for communication with the ‘others’ as they became known.
“My role in this affair is somewhat restricted until such time as global agreement is achieved. I anticipate this is, at least, several months away, so will be available at any time for advice and to assist in any way I can. I must stress that there will be no dialogue with the ‘others’ until we achieve the universal agreement I have mentioned,” she said.
Sergeant Red Skye was bored. He had heard nothing for nearly three hours, while Presidential Aids and the secret service were pestering him over access to the President.
<<Michelle?>>
<<Hi Red. What’s up?>>
<<I’m getting hassled.>>
<<Okay, two minutes.>>
True to her word, the committee room opened two minutes later and the President emerged with Michelle and Kyle. The doors closed behind them and the President approached his chief of staff, who, not surprisingly was very agitated.