The Sphere

The Sphere

“Mr President.”

“Errr yes what is it?” The President replied, rubbing his eyes as they adjusted to the recently illuminated bedroom.

“There’s been an incident sir.”

“What’s happened?”

“First reports are, err sketchy sir,”

“Just tell me man.” The president snapped.

“Well, reports suggest, that a spherical, metallic object has crashed in Central Park.”
“When?” the President asks.

“About ten minutes ago, sir.”

”Right, inform the Joint Chiefs of Staff and my scientific advisors, I want to see them in my briefing room in twenty minutes.” He ordered.

“On my way sir.”

“Mr President.” The collective greeting reverberated around the White House briefing room as President Scott entered.

“Good morning, gentlemen, ladies. Let’s start with a full update on the situation.” replied the President. “General Anderson, your report, ‘if you please.”

“We have a team of scientists examining the object as we speak sir.” General Anderson began, in a raspy baritone voice, with a south Texas accent. “Preliminary findings indicate the object to be approximately twenty metres in diameter and constructed from some form of metal alloy, as yet unidentified. Sir I strongly urge you to consider destruction of this devise.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little hasty there General? We haven’t established exactly what the object is yet,” Dr Geddings, the Presidential chief scientific advisor, interrupted.

“I know all I need to know.” General Anderson replied, angrily. “Enemies of the USA, as yet unidentified, have attacked us on our own soil and I for one…”

”We don’t know that this was an attack.” Dr gedding retorted.

At that moment an aid, entered the room and interrupted the debate, he handed Dr Geddings a sheet of paper. “What is it Dr?” President Scott asked.

“It’s the results from the analysis of the alloy. It’s made up of three different metal compounds, neither of which are found anywhere on earth.”

“You mean, we’re being attacked by aliens?” General Anderson said.

“No General. I mean, the origin of this object doesn’t appear to be from Earth.”

“Mr President, sir.” General Petersen Interjected. “I concur with General Anderson on this matter. If we look at the evidence, we’ve suffered an unprovoked attack from what appears to be an extra-terrestrial source. God alone knows what this devise is capable of; I therefore strongly advise immediate destruction of the devise to demonstrate our resolve and ability to ET.”

“No Mr President. We still don’t know for certain that this object constitutes an attack.” Dr Giddings said. “It might even be a ‘First Contact’ situation, with another life form.”

“Don’t be so naive Doctor.” Both Generals, Anderson and Petersen said simultaneously.

Just then, another aid entered the room and handed General Anderson a sheet of paper, which he quickly scanned.

“Sir, this is a report from SETI.” The General began. “It states that they have just intercepted a transmission from deep space. They’re working on a translation as we speak.”

“How long do they think it will take to translate?” The President asked.

“They’re unsure sir, they say it’s appears to be a complicated language, but they have some of their top people working on it.”

“Inform them, general, that time is not on our side and we need to know what it says, ASAP! Oh, and General, provide them with anything they need.”

“Yes sir.” With that, the General left the briefing room.

“Sir, may I suggest that we alert NORAD, and ready our systems for an immediate response, when the situation requires it.” General Petersen inquired.

“Yes, yes of course General.” The President responded.

“Wait sir” Dr Giddings said. “In light of recent events I think it’s safe to assume that we are dealing with an intelligent life form. What if they’re monitoring our communications?”

“Don’t worry Doctor. I’ll send it on a secure channel.” General Petersen sneered.

“That’s not what I meant general.” Dr Giddings snapped in response.

“Doctor, please.” President Scott intervened. “General, I think this whole situation is tense enough. Don’t you?”

President Scott, smiled warmly, as he addressed Dr Giddings. “I understand your concerns doctor, but I feel it’s prudent to be ready for all eventualities. General, please inform NORAD of the situation and tell them to go to Def Con 1.”

“Mr President.” General Anderson says, excitedly, as he re-enters the room, waving another sheet of paper.

“What is it General?” The President asks, shock clearly defined on his face.

“Sir, I’ve just received word that, one of our deep space satellites has picked up a large number of objects entering our Solar system.”

“Just how many objects are we talking about General?” The President asked.

“About one hundred sir, they’re big and moving fast, and sir, they’re on a trajectory for Earth.”

“God help us!” The President cried out, breaking the brief but distinct silence that had followed the general’s announcement.

“Sir we need to act now. We should destroy the object in Central Park and launch our missiles at the incoming objects.”

“Please Mr President.” Dr Giddings pleads. “We still don’t know exactly what their intentions are. Just think of the opportunity we have here.”

“Doctor, may I remind you that these things have attacked us and now, even as we speak, they’re speeding towards us with a vast armada.”

“You keep using terms like, attack and invasion but the truth is, we still don’t know that their intentions are hostile. Please Mr President, at least wait and see what they want.”

“If we wait, it may be too late. We need to act now, Mr President, before they arrive.”

“How long, before they reach Earth’s orbit?” President Scott enquired.

“According to the data we’ve received from the tracking satellites, we estimate, a little over three hours.” General Anderson replied.

“Three hours.” The president repeated, in disbelief. “Just how fast are these things moving?”

“They’re off the scale, which is why we need to act now, sir.”

After a long pause, the President replies. “Ok Gene...”

“No, you can’t!” Dr Giddings shouts.

“Please doctor.” General Anderson interrupts. “Mr President, do we have the go ahead?”

“I’m sorry but we can’t afford to take the risk. I must save the planet,” President Scott says. “Launch the rockets. Nuke them!”

Dr Giddings, slumps in her chair. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening, God help us.” She says.

Lifting the receiver of the red phone on the desk in front of him, he says. “General Anderson here, we have a go, please stand by for launch codes. Mr President.”

Slowly and deliberately, President Scott takes the receiver from the General. Pausing, his eyes search the very soul of everyone in the room. “This is President Scott…” he gave the authorisation codes over the phone, the weight of the world etched on his face, the rest of the room in silence. Finally, he said. “May God have mercy on us all!”

All eyes in the room were now focused on, the holographic projection, which had appeared in the centre of the large, round conference table, in the middle of the room.
Each person there, lost in their own thoughts, watching the unfolding images, of the missiles, as they fly from their siloes, a hundred arrows of instant death racing up through the atmosphere and heading for their respective targets.

Suddenly the door burst open. A young man stands at the door, trying to regain his breath. “They’ve cracked it.” He finally says.

“Cracked what?” A startled President replied.

“The alien’s message, they’ve translated it.”

“What does it say man,” the President demands. “The future of mankind depends on it.”

The young man looks sheepish as he reads the message… “Can we have our ball back, please?”

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