The Hades Connection

by Gabriel S. Timar

Chapter 18

part 2 of 2

“Very well,” Park continued, “to keep matters formal, permit me to identify myself.” He reached in his pocket and extracted a white envelope. “My credentials,” he said. “I’m sure they will be satisfactory in addition to Mr. Horn vouching for my identity.”

I did not touch the papers, just gave him a long look, and stepped to the window. “Mr. Fedorov,” I intoned, “you may land on the lawn immediately north of this building. Keep the shields up at one hundred percent and maintain red alert.”

“Affirmative,” came Fedorov’s voice.

Before I could say anything else, the tiny spaceship materialized outside the building.

I turned to Park: “This, Mr. Prime Minister, represents my credentials.”

I could see Park freeze for a second. The timing was just perfect to pick up the envelope.

“Now, Mr. Park, we may begin to examine each other’s credentials.”

“Although I am intrigued, Captain,” he said in a steady tone, “it doesn’t seem feasible for us to go out there. We would create an incident that the press couldn’t overlook. Let me assure you I’m convinced of your extraterrestrial origins.”

“Mr. Fedorov,” I ordered, “please resume your station.”

The “Baby” disappeared. I doubted Park’s security people had enough time to take a video or a snapshot of the spaceship. I figured there would be quite a few Mounties swearing off coffee and doughnuts for a while.

I could see Park relax a little. “Mike,” he started, “be a darling, and order us some drinks.”

“Obviously, he wants to get rid of me,” Mike remarked, but he stood up, went to the door and signaled to a waiter.

“Mike is amazing,” Esther remarked. “I bet he knows what everyone wants to drink.”

Park gave her a long look and turned to me: “Captain, Mike told me about the fearful events overtaking your planet. I am very sorry. Naturally, I am ready to offer the hospitality of Canada to all your people.”

“I appreciate that, sir,” I replied. “And if it were up to me, I’d accept your generous offer right here and now. However, my orders are quite specific. As Mike most likely mentioned to you, the orbit of your planet is decaying. Earth will fall out of its orbit and be sucked into the sun in about thirty years unless we do something about it quickly.

“My mission is to persuade you to assist us in the construction of a thruster field on your Moon. Firing the thrusters at the right time will correct the orbit. I must obtain a commitment of cooperation from the leaders of this planet before I can discuss anything else on behalf of my government.”

“I don’t think it is necessary to have everyone agree in advance, Captain,” Park stated. “Your people should come here, settle down and start negotiations with the rest of the world. You would be in a much stronger position.”

I smiled and shook my head. Park was jockeying for position as any intelligent leader would.

“We can’t do that,” I replied. “Time is of essence. Every minute we waste with useless discussions makes our task more difficult. The orbital decay is accelerating in logarithmic progression. If we wait a couple of years, it will not be possible to correct the orbit at all.”

“Is it that bad?” Park asked.

“I’m afraid it is,” I replied.

“Then, I suggest you contact the U.N. immediately,” he said solemnly.

The waiter appeared and handed Mike a tray. He brought it to us and put it on the coffee table.

“I’ve got you a fair selection,” he said, “take your pick.”

I selected a glass in random and tasted it: “Cardhue,” I thought, “Mike’s choice, of course.”

The first drink never affected my ability to think clearly, but the second always slowed me a little. I had drunk only orange juice up to this point; the fresh nutty taste of the Cardhue awakened my palate.

“Sorry, Mr. Prime Minister, it is not on at all,” I replied. “Could you tell me what the U.N. stands for?”

“World peace, law and order,” replied Park solemnly.

“That, sir, is pure unadulterated crap, and you know it,” I stated with a slight hint of emotion. “Please don’t ask me to give you a detailed explanation. The U.N. doesn’t represent anybody, and if anything needs to be done, one must steer clear of the U.N.”

“I would like to debate that with you sometime,” Park replied with a spark in his eyes. “But since you are so hostile to the U.N., whom do you wish to consult?”

“Apart from you,” I said, “I would like to meet President Holdsworth, President Kamarov, Mr. Yamamoto of the Central Bank of Japan, and Prince Henry Tudor for starters. We should work out our strategy with them.”

“The makeup of your group is curious,” Park remarked. “For argument’s sake, tell me Captain, what would happen if we flatly refused to cooperate, killed you and disposed of your remains?”

I shrugged.

“For a while, nothing,” I said. “Our main fleet is on its way to your planet. If I do not succeed in getting the project physically started, they won’t bother to talk; they’ll come with guns blazing and batter you into submission in a matter of hours.

“The next day, using slave labor, they would start building the thruster rocket field on the Moon. Although they would kill millions, they would leave enough people alive to do the job.”

“If this is the case, why are you negotiating?” Park queried. “You will build your field of thrusters no matter what we do.”

“It is not the same, Mr. Park,” I replied. “If we do the job with slave labor, there will be sabotage and resistance to the project. We are humans like you; we know exactly how we would react if the situation were reversed. Our analysts give us a twenty-three percent chance of success if we go the slave labor route, and somewhere in the range of ninety to ninety-seven percent if you cooperate.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I never thought our cooperation was so valuable,” Park noted. “I’ll help you to get your group together for a meeting sometime next month, if it suits you.”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t,” I replied. “As I was saying, the decay of the orbit is accelerating rapidly. By next month I would like to have the first components in orbit awaiting transport to the Moon.”

“You aren’t asking for too much?” he said with a wry little smile. “Let me tell you how I want to do this: first I want absolute proof of the orbital decay. When you convince me of that and explain the details of the correct remedy, I will make a conference call and talk to all the people you suggested. Is this solution acceptable?”

“No.” I shook my head. ”All of them will demand proof of my extraterrestrial origins and the decay of the orbit. For days, weeks or months I would keep proving everything all over again. I’m afraid we don’t have time for such garbage. I’d rather prove everything only once and put everybody to work. Don’t forget, Mr. Park, the orbital decay is killing your world as well.”

“In other words,” said Park in a measured tone, “you’re expecting me to get a high-powered group together on the strength of the holographic projection of something resembling a spaceship and your say-so.”

“I sense a measure of doubt,” I replied. “You cannot fully accept my extraterrestrial origins, and you doubt that the orbit is decaying. You think I am making up the story and I have ulterior motives. You are not the first one and most likely not the last either. Some time ago Mike expressed similar feelings. Therefore, I am going to tell you the same things I told him. I cannot land a spaceship in front of the parliament building and have little green men charging up the stairs. I know this would be most effective, but unfortunately, I am short of little green men. However, right here and now I can give you a demonstration of our destructive power.”

“What would you do?” Park queried.

“It’s dealer’s choice,” I replied. “If I proposed a demonstration of our technology, you would say it is just a good night club act. I have at my disposal quite an array of terrifying weapons capable of destroying any city, country or even a whole continent. What would you say if I offered to wipe the city of Sherbrooke off the map? It is your own electoral district, isn’t it?”

“I’d say you planted a nuke in the city,“ Park replied quickly but rather uncertainly.

“You see,” I turned to Mike, “your leaders have a reply for everything. They cannot take anyone at face value.” I turned to Park: “Okay, you name the place and I’ll rub it off the face of the planet.”

“Do you have to do that?” Park asked.

“You are the one who needs more proof.” I shrugged.

“Could you destroy a statue of my choice?” Park asked.

“As long as you can define its location to me, I could,” I said. “Will that satisfy you?”

“It will,” said Park.

“Are you sure?”

“I am, Captain,” Park replied.

“Okay, where is the damned statue?” I queried.

“It’s the Canada Goose at Wawa. Shoot that down and I’ll believe you,” Park said.

“I don’t have my map fully labeled,” I said. “Guide me to Wawa.”

In the next few minutes, Park was describing how to get to Wawa and the Goose. I was relaying the instructions to Fedorov. He was following the route on his GPS and transmitting the computer generated view of the sites to the monitor on my left wrist. Finally, when the statue came into focus, I stepped up to Park and showed him the monitor: “Is this the one?”

Park’s face turned white; he nodded.

“Mr. Fedorov, have your laser gunner pulverize that bird for me,” I ordered.

“Aye, aye, sir,” came the reply and the graceful goose promptly disappeared in a cloud of dust.

“It is done, Mr. Prime Minister,” I said.

“I don’t believe you,” rapped Park.

I shrugged and pointed to the phone on the coffee table: “Call somebody who could verify it.”

“Damn right, I will,” replied Park with noticeable hostility in his voice. He picked up the receiver and dialed the operator.

In a matter of seconds, the Wawa RCMP detachment verified a mysterious explosion pulverizing the Goose. Park collapsed into his chair.

The silence of King Tut’s tomb prevailed in the library. Finally, Park remarked: “Couldn’t you bastards wait until the New Democrats get into power?”

To be continued...

to Challenge 354...