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Authors: Christopher Nuttall

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BOOK: The Trojan Horse
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“Not until they’ve finished disbanding the army,” his father said.  The Colonel spat into the fire, causing it to splutter back at the watching humans.  “I cannot believe that so many military men so tamely complied with the government’s orders.”

 

“They swore to uphold the civilian government,” Toby pointed out.  “Do you think they should turn their guns on Congress just because they find their orders unpalatable?”

 

The Colonel snorted, but said nothing else.  “Besides,” Toby added, “there is a disquieting set of developments in military matters.  A number of army officers attended a seminar on one of the alien bases.  Apparently, it was to discuss the Galactic Federation’s military role…”

 

“And I thought they were pacifists,” the Colonel said.  “Now they admit to having a military…”

 

“And they have since been confirmed as officers who will be retained by our much-reduced military,” Toby continued, ignoring his father’s interruption with the ease of long practice.  “All of them have been willing to talk endlessly about how wonderful the Federation is and how we should be grateful for the chance to grow into a mature race – under the benevolent protection of the Snakes, of course.”

 

He waited to see if his father would draw the correct conclusion.  “They’re being brainwashed,” the Colonel snarled.  “God damn it – doesn’t anyone even realise that they’re being turned into alien serfs?”

 

Toby shook his head.  “That’s not the only thing they have in common,” he added.  “They’re almost all unmarried, which suggests that there won’t be anyone close enough to them to notice any alarming difference.  In fact, most of them have few friends or allies…”

 

“But they can still give orders and be obeyed,” the Colonel said.  “Unless they give an illegal order, who is going to question them?”

 

“The noose is tightening,” Toby agreed.  “I’ve started something that might give the aliens a shock, but I think we need to work faster when it comes to collecting and storing war material.  Now we can ensure that General Thomas isn’t being watched by the aliens, we can start using him to contact a number of officers.  If we’re careful, we might be able to start stockpiling war material without the aliens catching on.”

 

The Colonel looked up at him.  “And if one of those officers has been brainwashed?”

 

“We’re dead,” Toby said, simply.  The whole issue was turning into a frightening nightmare, one without a parallel in human history. 
Anyone
could be brainwashed into supporting the aliens, turning men and women with unimpeachable records into traitors who would betray their country – and escape suspicion until they carried out their work.  The security vetting system had been badly broken in the past, but this was much worse.  Who could they trust?

 

The aliens could watch anywhere, listen in to all communications…the slightest mistake might betray the resistance to their enemies.  And then the cells would be wiped out, one by one.  And then…perhaps the aliens would reveal their true nature?  And perhaps then it would be too late.

 

“They’re not all-powerful,” Gillian said, sharply.  “They can do things we can’t, sure.  They have a more advanced technological base than ours.  But we’re not as far behind them as we thought.  Their bugs aren’t too different from those on the drawing board, their transmitters are not too far ahead of our own microburst transmitters…they’re not gods.”

 

“They don’t need to be gods,” Toby said, sourly.  “They have seventeen starships hanging over our heads.  Why are they fucking around with us when they could just bombard us into submission and take the surrender of whoever is left when the rubble stops falling?”

 

“Maybe they can’t,” the Colonel said.  “Or maybe they’re so advanced that they regard us with almost-total contempt.  They may not consider us capable of matching them, or of seeing through their deceptions.  I’ve seen that sort of arrogance before; the people who have it think that no one is as smart as them, or that anything they do is automatically smarter than anything anyone else can do.  I wonder if they expect us to be able to understand their toys, or if they’re giving us tech confident that we lack the knowledge to understand it, let alone improve on the design.”

 

“Maybe,” Toby said.  He thought, briefly, of all the gifts the Galactic Federation had given humanity.  A food producer was helping to feed the homeless in Manhattan.  A water purifier was helping to produce water in Africa.  And fusion power was starting to allow fission plants to be shut down, at least until they could decide what to do with them.  And if the aliens had come in peace, how much could the human race have learned from them?  “I hope you’re right.”

 

“So do I, boy,” the Colonel said.  “So do I.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

Washington DC

USA, Day 45

 

Jayne looked down at the notepad with an expression of irritation.  She had never fully appreciated how the legendary reporters of yesteryear had coped without word processors, laptop computers and even palmtop personal assistants.  They’d had to scribble out their stories in shorthand and score out any errors, rather than simply pressing the delete key and retyping the section.  Her hand was aching after writing out four versions of her story, each one of which hadn’t been good enough for the internet.  But at least no one could hack into a sheet of paper.

 

She looked down at the paper and scowled to herself.  It wouldn't be easy to read, but it should be difficult – in theory – for the aliens to even realise it was there, let alone read it unless someone pointed it out to them.  The text would be scanned into a computer and then uploaded as a JPG image, stored on a hundred different file servers.  It was a fairly simple trick often used to outsmart child protection software on the internet and, she hoped, it would serve her purposes as well.  Scowling, she started one final read through of the paper.  As long as it was legible, she’d accept the flames she was likely to get if anyone found out she’d written the article.

 

It has been a truly remarkable week.  The human race has started its advance towards joining the Galactic Federation and reaching the stars.  All over the world, small amounts of alien technology – with more promised soon – are already improving the lives of hundreds of thousands of humans.  We have been promised far more benefits to come, from access to the boundless resources of space to a clean and safe environment for our children.  And we have responded.  In every city, the Witnesses flock to show our gratitude to the Galactics and the Welcome Foundation is opening buildings that will allow us to feast our eyes on the glory of alien technology.  It is a bright new day.

 

The question we should ask ourselves is simple.  Why are the Galactics really here?

 

Others online have questioned their reasons for visiting Earth.  Many of those posters are now dead.  It seems that our vaunted law enforcement departments have more important things to do than putting together what – I believe – is a murder case against the Galactics.  Consider this; nineteen people who spoke out against the aliens are dead.  There appears to be nothing linking the nineteen together – and certainly more than nineteen people have been murdered in the same time period – except one thing.  They all spoke out against the aliens.  And if we didn't see this before the attack on General Thomas, who resigned his commission rather than accept the effective dismantling of much of our country’s military, we should certainly see it now.  The attack on General Thomas was a blatant slap in the face for those of us who have eyes to see.  Who benefits from the deaths?  The Galactics.

 

Ah, you might say; it is nothing more than a coincidence.  To which I would reply; pull the other one, it’s got bells on.  If nineteen people are dead, all of whom had one trait in common, is it not logical to suggest that that single trait was why they were targeted?  I believe that if ten young African-American girls were to be targeted, the police and FBI would deduce that the killer’s primary targets are young black women, instead of saying that the deaths had nothing in common.  So why the fear to draw the line between the deaths? I ask you; who does it benefit?

 

But if that is too much for you to stomach, consider this.  A number of people who harboured – and expressed – anti-alien views have changed their minds in the last few weeks.  Some of them have been convinced by the wonders the aliens have shown us, or have discovered that they can profit from the alien presence.  I would not say that no one is allowed to change their minds; indeed, most of the bitterest arguments I have seen could have been resolved, if one side or the other was allowed to change their positions.  Others, however, have changed their minds – and have been unable to articulate
why
they have changed their minds.  Am I the only one who sees something vaguely sinister in this development?

 

I would refer you to the case of Joe Buckley, a well-known writer of military science-fiction.  His works have been great successes over the past few years, with sales high enough to warrant a mention in the
New York Review of Books
.  And Joe Buckley didn't trust the aliens.  His posts, which I will have to quote from memory as they have somehow disappeared from the internet, asked why humanity should give up control to the Galactic Federation.  Even if we concede that humanity has made mistakes – and we have, let us not be deceived into believing otherwise – why do we assume that the Galactics mean us no harm?  Or, for that matter, why the Galactics can be trusted?  We were not – and have not – been allowed to visit their ships.  We still have no idea how many of them there are – and what we know, really know, about the Galactic Federation is insufficient.  These, dear readers, were the questions that Joe Buckley asked.

 

Except he isn't asking them anymore.  Does that seem odd to you?  It may even seem sinister when you consider what happened just before he changed his mind – or had it changed for him.  He visited one of the alien bases as part of a sanitized tour – and I can tell you, ladies and gentlemen, that the tour was definitely sanitized.   We learned nothing of importance, but whatever Joe Buckley saw was enough to convince him to become an alien supporter, almost a Witness.  He has joined a group he treated as objects of scorn, young men and women who chose to believe in glittering lights and insubstantial promises.  His attitude changed completely.

 

But why?  What happened at the alien base?

 

Some of the people who have joined the Witnesses have good reasons for supporting the aliens.  Michaela Duval knew that her nine-year-old child would never walk again after she was badly injured in a road-rage accident.  The Galactics cured her; a young girl can walk again.  Can anyone blame Mrs Duval for practically worshipping the Galactics?  And then there was Tommy Sinclair, who was certain to die of cancer within the next two weeks; the Galactics cured him.  And now he is one of their most effective advocates, testifying to their prowess in a manner that would do an evangelist preacher proud. 

 

And yet we have no comparable reason for Joe Buckley.  Indeed, he is unable to articulate why he changed his mind.  What was it?  It may not surprise my more intelligent readers to discover that Joe Buckley was not the only one to change his mind.  A number of others have recently been toeing the alien line, including several military officers, senior policemen and government officials.  And – guess what?  They all went to an alien base.  Joe Buckley’s wife, who has fled her husband in fear for her life, called him a pod person.  What are the aliens doing to them to turn them into converts to their cause?  I do not know...

 

There are, however, some alarming possibilities.  We have long known that it is possible to brainwash someone into something they would not normally do.  The process – for humans, at least – is chancy.  The never-to-be-sufficiently-damned hijackers of 9/11 were pushed into a belief that they had the right to launch a terrorist strike that claimed thousands of innocent lives.  And they did that despite not being paragons of Islamic behaviour.  The CIA is supposed to have perfected techniques for creating spies from enemy personnel.  Is it too great a leap to suppose that the aliens might have developed a more advanced way to alter a person’s mind?

 

Let us consider the possibilities for a moment.  The aliens are steadily taking over the minds of our top officials – and doing it in a manner that makes it very difficult to detect, let alone prevent.  It will not be long before the country’s government is partly under alien control, or perhaps
completely
under alien control.  Think about it – how could a soldier know that he was receiving orders from the legitimate government, or a government controlled by alien dupes and drones?  And how could he solve the dilemma when you consider that both forms of government may be combined in a single unit? 

 

I have attached a list of known people who have visited alien bases.  In the absence of any real test for ‘pod people,’ I am forced to recommend that anyone who has visited an alien base be considered guilty until proven innocent.  It is possible that a more advanced medical scan of their brains would uncover what was done to them and maybe even reverse it.  It is certain that refusing to heed this threat will have disastrous results for human security, even survival. 

 

You think not?  Consider this – we just buried the Vice President, and saw the Secretary of State installed in his place.  Guess who has spent time in an alien base?  That’s right – the Secretary of State!  And if that isn't enough, let me ask you a second question.  The Vice President was travelling on the most famous – and well-protected – airliner in the world.  Air Force One was not intercepted by a flight of Chinese fighter jets; no terrorists lurked with portable missile launchers on beautiful Pacific islands to take a pot-shot at Air Force One.  The detonation that destroyed the plane was a bomb, all the experts agree – and yet how did it get through the security cordon? 

 

Those who blame the attack on Islamic Terrorists refuse to ask how three Muslim crewmen managed to get a bomb onto the plane.  They died in the explosion, so we will never know for sure – but I believe that the security was extensive enough to prevent anyone from getting a bomb aboard.  The Secretary of State (now the Vice President) has been pushing the blame onto right-wing terrorist militias, yet they would still face the same problem.  It’s worth saying again; Air Force One is the most heavily protected plane in the world.  Any terrorists who could get a bomb through security would have waited for the President himself.  Taking out the Vice President just isn't going to cut it.

 

Hundreds of terrorist groups have claimed responsibility for the blast, yet none of them have provided any proof.  And the FBI has turned up no real leads, according to my sources.  The destruction of Air Force One may be an unsolvable mystery.

 

I ask again – who benefits?

 

There are those who would tell you that anyone who writes a post such as this one cannot be trusted – after all, I’m not telling you who I am.  But I
am
telling you that I know this for a fact, and I am trying to warn you.  If you heed my words, don’t trust your computers or cell phones.  They can listen to you through your most trusted possessions.  Watch your back at all times.

 

They killed General Thomas.  They won't have any hesitation about trying to kill you.

 

Good luck – and God bless America.

 

Jayne nodded as she reached the final section.  It was alarmist, but at least anyone who reached the bottom would be warned about the dangers.  And it was well to remind everyone that the country had been through tough times before and had come through them for the better.

 

Picking up the sheets of paper, she headed over to the scanner.  Once the document was saved and moved to a USB disc, she would take it to an internet cafe and have it uploaded with the help of some software a handful of her seedier friends had put together.  It wasn't
quite
hacking the BAN, but everyone who subscribed to any of the BAN’s blogs would receive a copy.  The little program attached to the message would automatically access their email address book, transmit a copy of itself to everyone in their contacts, and then shut down.  Given a few hours, it would be all over the world.

 

And then she would have to see how the aliens reacted.  If they could track her down, she had no doubts about her fate.  She’d be as dead as the other poor bastards who’d questioned the aliens, while the world continued on its merry slide towards doom.

 

***

“Yes, I can confirm that the Junior Ambassador will be visiting your school,” Jason said, rolling his eyes.  The frightfully-earnest headmistress had somehow obtained his number and was calling to confirm the arrangements – for the third time.  Having a chance to boast that one of the Galactics was visiting her school was a major feather in her cap, assuming that everything went off all right.  They’d offered to feed the Galactic visitor, but the Snakes had politely declined.  Jason, remembering the food he’d had to eat at school, was privately relieved.  They’d probably think that they were being poisoned.  “They’re quite looking forward to it.”

 

He scowled as he thanked the woman for her call and put down the phone.  Nearly a month and a half after First Contact, aliens were still not a common sight in humanity’s cities.  Washington had played host to a handful of Galactics on sight-seeing tours, but most of the Galactics seemed disinclined to play tourist.  Jason suspected that it was something to do with the crowds that gathered everywhere they went, watching the aliens with wide eyes.  He’d heard from one of the cultural experts that westerners in Imperial China had been followed by curious crowds.  It seemed likely that humans everywhere were the same, taking interest in novelty.

BOOK: The Trojan Horse
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