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A Single Motion: part 3
Posted By: Arthur Wellesly<arthur_wellesly@hotmail.com>
Date: 2 April 2003, 4:40 PM
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Fort Stewart, Analysis and Intelligence Bunker
Georgia, USA
2330 Hours, July 11, 2004
"I thank you all for coming here today," General Forrester began. "As many of you gathered here today now know, we have recently made first contact with an extraterrestrial species." One man near the back snickered for a second, but when he realized he was alone in his actions, he quickly stopped. "This first contact was a highly unpleasant one. Twenty-one Rangers were killed in the action that took place there, and seven of these aliens were also killed. None were taken alive."
Following the incident in New Mexico, several meetings between high-ranking military and political officials had been undertaken to determine the course of action they would have to follow. This meeting, however, was quite different. Its purpose was to analyze this foreign technology and the aliens themselves.
"I would like to invite Dr. James MacCully to take my place and enlighten us in the 'unknown'. Doctor?" he asked, brandishing a hand to encourage him to come up.
An old man rose from his seat at the table in the dimly lit room and waddled slowly to the front of the room, his shadow seeming even frailer than he in the light of the projector he stood before. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began with an almost imperceptible German accent. "Let me begin by saying this will not be a complete analysis because we have only scratched the surface of this new technology. The purpose of this meeting is to give you all a small understanding of what we are up against if hostilities continue.
"I will start with this weapon." He pointed to the image projected onto the white screen behind him. "It is a long, thin weapon, but it is far more powerful than it looks. It fires superheated metal projectiles at a rate of 1,300 rounds per minute. You may think it is impossible to hold that many bullets in a weapon of this size but let me explain. These projectiles require no gunpowder. Instead two fusion cell packs act as the propellant so all that is needed is the bullet head, which is quite small and quite deadly. The bullets go about 5 times as fast as our standard shots, and it is this friction alone which heats them." He clicked a button on the device he held and the slide changed. Some of the more squeamish men and women at the table looked away, those most stared with a horrid fascination. "These two Rangers were killed by this weapon. They were both basically shredded by the firepower of this weapon. The projectiles also explode while in the body, causing even more damage.
He changed the slide to show another device. "This weapon was also found. We haven't the slightest clue as to how it works, all we know is that it projects a wave of superheated plasma not unlike our own flame thrower. It is solar rechargeable and can only be used for six seconds at a time before the battery wears out." He changed the slide, and when he did, a woman in the corner almost hurled. "This man survived the attack by this weapon. He left arm burned away along with most of the left side of his body. His eyes melted away and his left cheek and teeth are also now gone. He remains in critical condition.
"We also recovered this from one of the rooms in the ship," he said, clicking the device in his hand. "It seems to be a bomb of some sort. Judging by the capabilities of the aliens thus far and its size, we have deduced it would have the destructive capability many times that of even the most potent nuclear warhead.
"Now on to the ship itself," he said, simultaneously changing the slides. "It measures 248.93 feet and at its widest point 121.37 feet. The back two thirds of the craft is completely occupied by the engine of the ship, which, I might add, is in terrible shape. Upon investigation we determined that it was totaled in whatever accident brought it to earth in the first place. It was fused into almost one piece of metal. That ship isn't ever going anywhere. And we will never be able to replicate its technology, so don't expect to be flying around in space anytime soon.
"What is of particular interest is the metal plating that covers it," he continued, changing the slide to show a close up shot of the purple metal. "After trying for four days to get into the ship, it took 5.1 tons of C-4, 9 Hellfire antitank missiles, 1 bunker buster bomb, and a sustained 6 second burst from the plasma weapon I showed you earlier. As for what it is made up of, we cannot say. There are three possibilities: it could be that it is an alloy as of yet undiscovered on earth. It could be that it was put together in a way that we cannot discern a single element, or it could be that it is a substance completely alien to us in every aspect. In any case, it is a metal compound with a strength unparalleled in all of human history.
"Last but not least, the aliens themselves." He changed the slide. "This alien is the smallest among them, about three and a half feet tall. We have not been able to do an autopsy on them yet, but..."
A man came bursting through the door at the end of the room, a laptop computer shoved snuggly between his shoulder and heaving chest. "Sorry to interrupt you, doctor, but is an emergency," the man said, revealing himself to be Major-General George Peterson.
MacCully breathed a sigh of irritation. "What is it, General?" he asked tiredly.
Peterson missed the unsubtle tone of disapproval, so great was his excitement. "The White House just sent us a video that was somehow broadcast to them on a secure channel. They recorded it and just delivered it to us via email. It's from on of the aliens."
There was a gasp from the men and women at the table. Peterson ignored it and stalked hurriedly to the projected. He lay the thin mobile computer on the table and hooked it up to the projector using a short wire. He ten clicked a few buttons, entered a program, and hit "play".
The scene that appeared on the screen was almost unbelievable. It was a large, circular room lit dimly by several white lights at obscure intervals. The image seemed to be elevated by a couple feet from around the rest of the room. In the center, however, was the most breathtaking image of all: a massive extraterrestrial with an elongated head dressed completely in plated gold armor. When it finally spoke, its multiple jaws opened and closed at impossible angles and widths.
"The ship in orbit around your planet required aid," the horrifyingly loud voice said, "but you gave them death. In itself this is unacceptable. However your murder of our most beloved prophet is a sacrilege, one that cannot be forgotten. The extinction of your species is near at hand. Never before has a foreign species committed such a violation.
"The gods, however, have deemed that now is not the time for your annihilation - not until their cudgel is found. Then you shall pay for what you have done. Your planet and all its unworthy inhabitants shall cease to exist.
"Your lives are but candle flames to the gods - and we will extinguish them."
A silence followed the end of the transmission. "God help us," Jennifer Summers said under her breath.
"It would seem He is against us, according to them," MacCully said caustically.
"That thing said it would kill us all..." she began.
"I have no doubt they could... and judging by the alien's temperament I think that they would."
Nobody spoke for a moment, and then Peterson said, "Well, when? It was pretty vague when it was sating exactly when they were going to 'annihilate' us."
MacCully shook his head sadly, he face buried in his wasted hands. "I can't say either. It would seem they will act whenever they find the 'gods' cudgel' whatever the hell that is."
This began a heated discussion as to what the "gods' cudgel" was. MacCully shook his head in disgust, preferring not to join in on an argument that was based on pure speculation. He turned his head away from them and faced the screen, which was now blank, for the transmission had ended. But suddenly MacCully picked something up in the blackness; tiny, gray figures running up and down the page like 1's and 0's in code. The scientist waved an irritated hand. "Shh!" he yelled angrily. "Shut up!" When everybody was finished their bickering, he gestured to the screen. "Look, some sort of... writing."
MacCully stood up and disconnected the laptop from the projector. He sat down again and began typing furiously on the keyboard. He explained what he was doing as he did it. "You see, when transmissions such as this are communicated without a cable connection, a series of information patterns runs in the background to make this possible. If we can see this, we may have a unique understanding of their language or numbers and, God willing, we will be able to decipher their language and be able to read some of the information on their computers.
"Aha! Here we are. Look at this! Millions of these symbols, completely uncoded."
Summers stood up from her chair and walked over to the doctor, putting a hand on his shoulder and then lowering her eyes to his level. "It almost looks like Chinese calligraphy," she said, examining the screen.
MacCully nodded his consent. "Yes, it does. I'll have to copy paste all this information." He looked at General Forrester. "General, contact the White House and tell them I'm going to be sending them some information soon. Meanwhile get whoever you can to start trying to interpret this language." He looked back at the laptop, intently watching the overcomplicated letters streaming up the screen. "This transmission might have just given humanity a fighting chance."
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