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Adam Lindsay, the Chief Science Advisor to the President of the United States, sat surrounded by science experts, techsperts, and geeks of all walks, facing the big screen at one end of the table. The Seal of POTUS filled the screen, which flicked, then burst into life as the Whitehouse Bunker swam into focus.
From what he could see, Adam felt that the entire US Military and Civilian security and advisory bodies were represented in the room, and he could feel the palpable fear that seemed to emanate from the video link.
“Doctor Lindsay.”
“Mister President.”
“Dr. Lindsay, can you please tell us what the object is?”
“No, Sir, not at this time.” He could feel the Situation Room hold its collective breath.
“Can you tell us if it is a threat?” the President asked, leaning forward toward the camera. Adam paused, very much aware that every General in every military force worldwide would be screaming to launch a preemptive strike against the mysterious object in orbit if he said the wrong thing.
“Sir, at this time, we do not know the structure of the object, we do not know anything about the object, other than the observable facts of its arrival. And Sir, “ Adam said, looking around his own panel of smart people, “if it were hostile, based on the little data we have so far, it probably would be unstoppable in any case.” Adam felt everyone in both rooms hold their breath, waiting for the predictable outburst.
It didn’t come.
“Why do you say that, Doctor?” asked Sam Liebermann, the President’s Chief-of-Staff. His tone lacked any emotion, but the intensity that shone through his eyes telegraphed the pressure he was under. How could a layman explain the unexplainable when the best Minds of the scientific community were completely at a loss?
“Sir, look at it this way. Science has not failed you, Science simply has not advanced enough on this Planet for us to begin to understand how the object has done what it appears to have done. Look at the observable data.” Adam stopped, looking around the screen to make sure he had everyone’s attention. He held up one long well manicured finger. “Firstly, using every technology we have, we cannot establish the mass of the object. It appears to have no gravitational effect on us, at this time, yet we have measured the apparent surface area at approximately one-sixth the size of the Moon. Now, ladies and gentleman, this statement may turn out to be widely inaccurate, because so far we have been unable to “see” this object in three dimensions.” He paused again, seeking any sign of reaction, letting everyone catch their breath. This was not the time to use big words or come on strong. “In fact, it has been suggested by some that this is some sort of projection, and we are “seeing” a very bad out-of-focus image, directed at us from unimaginable light years away.” He paused again, to let this sink in.
“Doctor Lindsay, would you please outline for us all exactly what has been observed, and where we are now?” The President asked, an edge to his voice for the first time.
“Sir, at 0450 Universal Time a French Observatory reported that Saturn had been “occluded” by an unknown object. That means that the light from the Planet was obscured by something quite large. They first thought they had technology issues with their equipment, but the images they recorded clearly showed that something had swung by Saturn, heading directly for the Earth. They immediately sent out a Possible Impact Threat Assessment, which galvanized everyone around the globe.”
“You say “clearly showed”, yet we can’t see this object properly?” the President asked. He shook his head, looking down at his hands. He suddenly looked back up into the camera lens, seemingly straight at his Science Advisor, the most senior and respected voice in the President’s cabinet. “Don’t want to mince words, doctor, nor do I want to play semantics with you, but how can the images be “clear”, yet the object can’t be mapped using our best laser technology?”
“Sir, the images were clear in that they showed a definite, definable shape of the shadow created when the object occluded Saturn. We are able to measure the shadow, and from that we have deduced its probable size.”
“I see.” The President paused, still looking directly at his Science Advisor, as if the visual contact would tell him something that the words were failing to do convey.
“Doctor, perhaps you should outline what you have done since the discovery?” suggested the Chief of Staff, largely to give his boss some time to think things through. The Science Advisor turned to his left, nodding to a white-coated skinny woman whose hair looked like a badly made birds nest sitting on top of a power pole.
“We have tried every measuring device we can think of – direct laser, LIDAR, Sonics, thermal imaging, radio waves, HDTV, and the Russians even moved one of their satellites to scan the object from Space, and were unable to record any data except for the shadow created by the object occluding light from the surface of the Earth. For all intents and purposes, the object is two dimensional, impossible as that may sound. It has no depth, at least as we understand dimensionality. Between the French and the Russians, we have been able to make out the outline of the object, which, quite frankly, looks like a bad photo of a gigantic rough boulder, the type you would expect to find lying around out in the Sierra Mountains somewhere.”
“But this object – this boulder you describe, is in a stable geostationary orbit over the equator, positioned exactly between the Americas and Europe, is that correct?” asked a General, his colorful beribboned jacket suggesting an exciting life so far.
“Yes, Sir, to the millimeter.”
“Do we know where it came from?” asked an anonymous voice from the back for the Situation Room.
“No Sir.”
“You said earlier there was no energy signals at all?” someone else asked.
“No Sir. Nothing we can detect in any band or frequency we are capable of monitoring.”
“What do you suggest we do?” the President asked. Once again, it seemed that everyone in both rooms were holding their collective breaths. Adam Lindsay looked slowly around the table, holding the eyes of every person in his domain. No one voiced an opinion; no one put themselves or their ideas forward. In one sense, he was disappointed, in another he was relieved, knowing how little factual, provable data his team had to work with.
“Sir, we are in real-time contact with every major Science facility in the world, we have literally thousands of the best Minds working the problem. We will be able to tell you what is going on at some point. There is one speculative question we can’t answer, and in not being able to answer it, we gain a measure of comfort, at least temporarily.”
“And that is?”
“If the object was hostile, why is it seemingly dormant? With all the rule breaking technology that must be behind this visitation, if it were going to attack, it would have already done so, and we could have done nothing about it.”
“But it didn’t.”
“No, Sir, it just stopped almost instantly from an impossible speed to an improbable orbital position. This is a very deliberate activity, the orbital position is too exact for it to be accidental or anything else.”
“We are being observed?” the General asked. “This is a recon mission?”
“Sir, I don’t know what it is, I can only relay the facts we get from the data.”
“But we are being watched.”
“Possibly. But by what, and by whom, and for what reason, we at this time have no way of knowing.”
“What do you suggest we do?” the President asked again, this time with more than a little irritation in his voice. Science was a wonderful toy for politicians when everything was going smoothly or it was budget time, but not so much when they couldn’t answer simple, basic questions!
“Wait. And work the problem with good Science.” This time the President looked around all the people in the Situation Room, and saw that no one on his side of the communications link was willing to put their ideas forward either. He nodded his head, a wistful, wan smile slowly creasing his face.
“Ok, every President has his moment, I guess this one is mine. We will reconvene in eight hours, or earlier if the circumstances dictate. Thank you Adam.” And the screen flicked back to the Seal of the POTUS, covering the room in a deep blue hue.
Adam looked around the room again, this time letting his gaze take in all the technology that made up the very essence of forensic and communications science. It struck him as particularly poignant that even will all the technology, gadgets, bells and whistles of the so called 2.0 era, it still came down to hard work and intuition – by a human being.
He decided to start the ball rolling, in which direction he was not sure, but experience had taught him two thimngs – leaders took their people where they did not know they could go – and any action at the juncture of a barrier was better than no action at all.
He tapped lightly on his screen, knowing that his long time friend would probably laugh at the formality of the email.
To : Adam Frank, University of Rochester
From : Adam Lindsay
(Adam.Lindsay @USA.Science.org)
Subject : Recent arrival
Adam, as one of our most respected astrophysicists, can you please join my team to infuse your energy, intellect, instinct and scholarship in helping us to make sense of this problem?
As you would be aware, so much of our Science now comes into question with this event, and, frankly, we need all the help we can get!
Yours in collaboration,
Adam.
PS – I’m surprised you haven’t already been locked away in some think tank or other, come and play with us, and let’s see what new things we can discover together!!!
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