Escaping the Cradle

by Karen Page

Part 5

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Part 5

Over the weekend, some protests had started. A new movement had developed out of India. Earth First. There was even a splinter movement that wanted to ban all travel in space, though that didn't have much traction. No more trips to the moon or even the space station.

Other things had changed. There were queues at the old Royal Observatory at Greenwich as people wanted to become familiar with the night sky again. This was repeated over the world. The night sky had been something of a background that nobody really cared about. In the cities it wasn't really visible, the light pollution blocking it out. But now people were going outside to look at the night sky and the dark sites that remained were getting crowded. Nobody saw the alien ship, but that wasn't due to the lack of observers.

Some television stations started scheduling reruns of old programs such as Carl Sagan's Cosmos, or The Sky at Night. Stores were doing brisk trade of telescopes and something that had been niche was becoming more mainstream. Something that wasn't of interest, because it had no impact on them, was now more interesting due to the current events.

Today's debate on the rolling news channel was the impact on religions.

"Remember our bible," crowed the preacher. "Genesis 1:27. So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them. We are created in God's image not these aliens. They are inferior to us. Don't listen to them. They should be answering to us."

The Prime Minister snorted and turned down the volume on her television. She was finding the television debates more enlightening that the discussions with other world leaders. Most thought it was an opportunity for the world to turn to their view of how things should be run. This was just Monday and there was a whole schedule being posted on upcoming discussion points.

"Prime Minister. Is now a good time?"

Stood to one side, were two of the aliens. They looked the same species as last time, but the Prime Minister couldn't distinguish if they were the same two as previous.

"Of course," the Prime Minister said magnanimously. "I'd offer you a seat, but you aren't physically here."

The two aliens thought for a second, before one of them responded. "Sometimes your phrases take us a little to understand. That was a nice thought, something to sit on. Yes, when we visit in person that would be kind."

"Is our atmosphere compatible for you?"

"It is. We don't have precisely the same mixture of gasses, but we wouldn't be hurt. You would also be able to breathe in most of the planets occupied by council members. How are your discussions going with other world leaders?"

"Slowly. Your arrival has caused much debate. Humanity now knows we aren't alone. I've been told that there were some that already know of your existence."

"You have many different forms of government. We know this must be hard. I'm glad no wars have been caused over this. We know it takes time. We can wait. We only ask for knowledge that if you do join our council, that you speak as one with us. You speak for all your planet, not a single country. How your planet is run is still your business."

"Thank you, you phrased it slightly differently. That clarification helps. Can you tell me more about your council? If we can find a single representative, would it be possible for them to visit your council to get first-hand experience. It might help us to decide."

"The Rohastin Council is a body where the different races meet. It is where we decide the rules on how we coexist. It is where we work out issues if they arise. It is also a place where ideas are shared."

"Do you trade between each other?"

"Some, but not as much as you might think. Each of us occupy more than one star system. As you expand, you will find your resources aren't as much of an issue as you think. Trade is different from how you think about it now. As for visiting us, that is fine. I believe you only have one ship capable for that journey. We will make sure they know where to go."

"Do you know them?" asked the Prime Minister, eager to know more about who on Earth had created a spaceship without anybody knowing.

"We know of them. We don't know where they are or their designations."

"Why me? There are other leaders in the world, but I haven't heard you've visited them."

"As we said the other day, we will deal through you. You are special. You have a drive that most don't have. You have an internal conflict but have never given up. You had your life changed but didn't look back."

"How do you know about that?"

"To us, you standout like a pulsar in a sea of stars. You have strength of character to persevere. We know your life changed, but not how. Can you explain it?"

The prime minister shrugged. "I used to be a peace negotiator. I would try to resolve wars where people are killing each other. Do you have wars?"

"We have conflict, but we don't kill each other. We think that a species can't grow if they are fully at peace. They don't have the same push to expand. They generally wither as nothing changes. Wars kill the body. The body is a temple. It should be respected. You were saying how you changed."

"Yes. Several years ago, I contracted a virus. It was a manufactured virus that targeted individuals. A scientist had been paid to try to stop me negotiating an end to a conflict that had been going on for a long time. The virus changed my body. Transformed it from one gender to another. I wasn't the first, but I was the last. They sent a psychiatrist, which is a doctor of the mind, to help me. When I awoke from the transformation, she spent time with me. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have survived."

The two aliens chatted away excitedly before asking. "Can we have a biopsy?"

"Why?"

"We want to see if there is any trace of the virus."

After a moment of consideration, Georgina gave a nod. She wanted to show trust. "Okay."

"Stay still ... done."

Georgina blinked. She hadn't felt a thing, and there had been no sign of a device to take a specimen.

"And?"

"You still had some in your bones. Please wait a moment."

The two aliens shimmered, and faded, but didn't fully disappear. It was like she was put on hold, without the awful music. After a minute they were back. "One of our scientists just analysed it. How did you survive that?"

"How do you mean?" asked Georgina, marvelling at how quickly it was analysed and understood. A biopsy on Earth would take hours to just get a basic outline."

"They say it would have been very painful, and it would have broken your mind."

"It made me unconscious. I was rushed to hospital and was in a coma until the transformation finished. As I said, a psychiatrist then helped me to not lose my mind."

"Will you please wait a few minutes. I want to bring someone else to hear this."

The image of the Reginaddes shimmered and this time fully disappeared. The Prime Minister got up and went to refill her glass of water. She wasn't enjoying the trip down memory lane, but it seemed to be building a rapport. For the first time in years, she desired to drink something stronger, but she knew that alcohol wasn't the answer. Hilda Saunders had been very firm about that. Now and again, she'd been tempted to have a drink, but she'd resisted. She'd not had a drink of alcohol in just over nine years.

When the aliens reappeared, there was a third alien with them. The new alien looked very different, and Georgina knew in her heart that this was a different race.

"Hello. I'm Georgina Harris," said the Prime Minister in greeting.

The new alien bent their head slightly in greeting. "If I were to translate, my name would be Bob. I'm from the planet Alfare and we are often called Alphonian. I'm one of the senior council members."

'A name,' thought the Prime Minister. This was the first alien to give a name, and it was Bob! And here was the second race that Tim had mentioned.

Bob continued. "I have just been shown a sample of the virus that infected you. It has all the hallmarks of a minor race in the council. Would you be willing to give witness to the Rohastin Council?"

She swallowed. "How far is the council? A human was charged with the crime. Are you saying they didn't do it?"

"In your terms, the council base is 150 light years away. The base recipe might have been given to them. They decided what they were going to do with it but were aided to achieve those goals."

"Have your two races influenced the humans?"

"Yes," said Bob with no remorse.

"I'm sorry?" asked Georgina with incredulity.

Bob gave what must have been an alien sigh.

"When a race gets to a certain level of development they often wither or die. They either get to a level of peace and stop growing, or they get too violent and destroy themselves. There is a very narrow path to reaching space and spreading before it is too late. We've seen too many races die out because they couldn't make that leap. We have implemented two subtle tactics to help. The Reginaddes show an influential person what would happen through stagnation in peace. They cause mayhem. We show someone would happen if there were too much chaos, and they calm things down. Activity and flourishment occur, but without destruction."

"So, there are two groups running around the planet dancing to your tune?"

"Not big groups. They can't get too big, or they risk discovery. At one stage there was some concern if there was too much mayhem, but the group calming things down appeared to do their job well and no intervention was required."

"Do the Reginaddes have names?"

"Yes," replied one of the Reginaddes, but offered no more.

Bob made a strange noise. "You have a lot to learn," he said. "The Reginaddes have names, but they never voice them. They are a private thing that they reserve for their mates."

"You were telling us about the person who healed your mind," said one of the Reginaddes.

"She was an expert in gender issues. She'd been consulted on the previous transformation attacks and was brought in when I succumbed. Hilda was kind. She was the kindest, most understanding person I've known. When I got angry, or upset, she sat there and helped. She wasn't afraid of what we call tough love. She told me the truth, even when I didn't want to hear it. She wasn't afraid to call me out, when I moaned or got depressed."

"Do you have an image of her?"

Georgina went to her computer and did a search. "Oh, she died last year. I wasn't told. If you can see my computer, you should be able to see what she looked like when she saved me, and one that looks like it was taken a few years ago. I've no idea who the person is with her on the newer picture."

The Prime Minister felt a stab of pain that she'd not kept in contact with Hilda. She was a wise lady, and Georgina knew she wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for Hilda.

The three aliens suddenly started talking in a language that Georgina didn't recognize. When they stopped, it was Bob who talked. "She not only saved you. She found humanities saviour. Without her, it is doubtful that humanity would survive another hundred years."

'A saviour?' thought Georgina. She had too much to think about than ask about that. She stored that thought away for another chat.

"This race that you want me to give witness about. Do they have a name?"

"Yes. They are called Yvestigans. They are the nearest race in the council to this star system. Do not underestimate them."

"Are they dangerous? I thought civilisations like yours would be beyond war."

"We normally are, but they are expansionists. They would love to have your fertile planet."

"Thank you," said Georgina.

They nodded and vanished.

The background talk from the TV news channel filtered back into the Prime Ministers hearing. Strange how she'd not noticed its absence while the guests were there. Did they mute it or had they been in some sort of bubble. She didn't know, and in some respects she didn't care. This was beyond anything she thought she'd ever have to deal with.

She buzzed her principle private secretary.

"Prime Minister."

"Rupert, can you get me Tom. Then I need Craig."

Craig was an old colleague from her time as a negotiator. He was now her chief of staff. He made sure Number 10 danced to her tune.

It wasn't long before Tom came in. Rupert came in to take notes. "Sorry Rupert, can you leave us."

"Prime Minister, notes should be taken."

"I know, but not this."

"Yes, Prime Minister."

When they were alone, Georgina said, "Tom. I hate to use you as a conduit, but I need you to have a discrete word with Tim."

"Oh?"

"Can you get a message to him in person?"

"Sure. But why?"

"He has a contact that he needs to pass the message to."

The Prime Minister took a scrap of paper and scribbled on it. 'The third is called Yvestigans.'

Tom took it and pocketed it without looking. "He mentioned he was going to a concert tonight at the Royal Albert Hall."

"Good to know. I've not been for a bit and might be a nice change."

"It'll be delivered," said Tom, knowing that he was being dismissed.

As Tom left, Craig came in. "Prime Minister."

"I wish you'd call me Georgina," she said. It was a ritual. He was her friend. Heck, she went to his wedding. Yet he was always respectful, especially when in her office.

"I've just had a visit."

"Yes, I saw Tom leaving."

Georgina smiled. "No. I've just had the aliens visit."

"Oh," he said, his eyes widening. "Anything new?"

"I met a second race today. This one gave his name. Bob."

"Bob?" laughed Craig. "Are you serious?!"

"He said it was the nearest translation to his name. I need some discrete research. Is there someone you can get two files without blabbing?"

"What do you need?"

"It's something one of the aliens said. They seemed concerned about the virus that changed me. Can you get me two files. One on Malachai Ben-Aviv, and one on Hilda Saunders."

"The person behind the virus, and the shrink who looked after you after?"

"Yes. I want full histories, movements from before to after. I saw on the system that Hilda died last year."

"I bumped into her a few times in London after you were well enough for her to leave. She then moved away, and I never really thought about her after that."

"Nor me."

Craig thought a moment on who best to do this research. Only one name came to mind. "Okay, I will get Jamie onto this. How urgent is it?"

Georgina shrugged. "I might not need it for a week, or I might need it in a day. I've no idea."

Discussions then moved onto other items. When they had finished, Georgina followed Craig out and went to the private office. "Rupert. My private box at the Royal Albert Hall. There should be tickets available for tonight's performance."

"Yes, Prime Minister. Are you attending?"

"That is the aim. I'd like the car ready for seven."

"Of course. Will anybody be accompanying you?"

"No. It will just be me."

"Do you want your usual interval drink?"

"Yes. Thank you, Rupert. Oh, and can you see if the Prince of Wales room is available in case I need to make any calls?"

"Of course, Prime Minister," said Rupert. It wasn't an issue. It was always part of the security setup. The Prime Minister was always on call and a place where discrete calls could be made in an emergency was part of the deal.

The Prime Minister visiting anywhere was never a simple affair. Even though this was a private visit, she always had her police protection with her. It wasn't her first concert that she'd been to since she'd become Prime Minister, but she often had guests with her. This was the first time she'd be going solo and not in an official capacity. She was going as Georgina, not the Prime Minister.

It was the middle of the afternoon that she got chance to look at the link Jamie had sent. It was just a confidential document store secured for just the two of them. There were a few documents in there, but not much to go on. Malachia's file was mostly from the inquiry after he'd jumped from a bridge while being pursued by Italian police. The authorities from Gan Ha'Or hadn't been able to provide much detail. A lot was lost in the awful destruction of that area of the world. Major oil reserves destroyed because it was used a lot by people they didn't like. Three countries that wouldn't be habitable for a century, even with the ongoing cleanup. Millions of dead and many more millions severely injured. The initial damage and strife caused by radical groups, but then when the governments got involved, they wanted to make sure it was the last war, and the destruction became absolute.

Georgina wept for those that were involved. The fact that euthanasia centres were opened in the refugee camps was even worse. It was a mercy for some people. Their pain was beyond what they could continue with. For years she had wished that she'd been brought in to negotiate a peace treaty before that event, but neither side were ready or willing. It was only with the scale of their hubris that they realised they had more to gain in peace, than in war. Even then there were some that branded their leaders as traitors.

Georgia picked her phone and dialled her UN ambassador. It was time for him to start getting agreement for someone to visit the alien council. There were several names she had in mind. Most from smaller, more neutral countries that might be less disagreeable to the four superpowers. As with all these things, it wasn't always the best person, but the best person who someone couldn't object to. If they couldn't find someone to investigate what was being offered, how would they be able to put their differences behind them.

Driving was one thing she didn't miss and having a driver was a perk she'd come to love. It did mean she never went anywhere on her own, but her driver was much better behind the wheel that she had been. It also meant that she didn't have to contend with The Tube. Though the Royal Albert Hall was easily walkable, security would have had a fit if she'd said she was taking an evening stroll. It was also never an issue with traffic as her vehicle was always escorted, with traffic held where needed.

The Prime Minister wasn't making a grand entrance; the driver took them underground into the bowels of the hall. There she was greeted and escorted through the labyrinth to her box. There was only a small route where she was exposed to the public and that was temporarily closed. It didn't matter that this wasn't an official engagement.

When they got to her box, there was a lady waiting.

"This is Hope," introduced the venue manager. "She will be looking after you."

"Is there anything I can get you?" enquired Hope.

"A program?" asked Georgina.

"Already in your box," replied Hope smoothly.

"Thank you," smiled Georgina and went in, the door being closed by her protection team.

She always like to have a glance through, even though half of it would be adverts. She half wondered if there would be a note in it, but there wasn't. She hated being in a box, but there was no way that she could have sat in the stalls. It wasn't possible when she was in the public eye when she was a peace negotiator. There was no possibility when she was Prime Minister. Her security was more important.

When the lights dimmed, the Prime Minister forgot all about things. The playing was spectacular and for the first time since aliens had appeared, she relaxed. This wasn't one of the main London orchestras, but they were rather niche. They played abroad more times that they played locally and not just in major places. Their outreach program was also very high on their activities.

At the interval, there was a gentle knock on the door, and a waitress appeared, carrying the drink that Rupert had requested. It wasn't Hope though.

"Thank you. What happened to Hope?"

"She was taken ill. I'm Sally."

The PM knew that Sally would have been checked, so didn't really worry. "Thank you, Sally."

As Sally placed the drink on the small table, she said quietly. "And thank you for the third name. Seven tomorrow morning."

Georgina's heart skipped a beat, but before she could say anything, Sally had straightened up and had gone. Feeling disappointed, Georgina took her seat. She'd hoped to find out more, but she'd just got a thank you. As she stretched out her feet, they knocked against something. She looked down and saw an object. She reached down, and there was a phone with a yellow sticky note on it saying "Secret".

It hadn't been there earlier, and she hadn't seen Sally place it there. It could be a bomb. Taking a risk, she put it in her handbag. If security knew, she would get another lecture about her safety. They would try to track where it came from, and that might expose a source. A source. It made her sound like a detective. She was many things, but that wasn't one of them.

After the interval concluded, the concert continued, but even the music wasn't able to distract the Prime Minister. Her mind swirled with thoughts about Sally. How had she managed to drop the phone, or was it there earlier and she hadn't noticed it? What would they tell her? How did Sally manage to get on the crew with that short notice or was she a standard worker that they got to do her bidding. From a security perspective, it was unconscionable. Yet there were two groups that had been operating for decades and had managed to stay hidden from all security services. How?

"Bob", she said quietly while there was applause. She'd had a crazy thought that he might be listening. She looked around, but there was nobody there. She didn't know the Reginaddes names, so Bob was her only call. She sighed. "If you are there but not showing yourself, this is what on Earth we call music. Or one of the types of music. It is a way of expressing ourselves."

The singing grabbed her attention. She'd flicked through the program but hadn't really taken note on what was to be played. The singers voice ached, and the sad tone tugged at her heart. She knew the music. It had been popular when she was younger. Symphony number three from a Polish composer called Górecki. She flicked through the booklet at found the singer. An American called Monica Miller. She'd never heard of her, but that voice sounded so haunting.