Chapter 8: Assassins

Caleb had considered his dilemma during the three hour drive to Austin. He had no doubt that Scotty considered him a friend, and maybe even a good friend. How the seasoned politician would react to his questions, information, and idea was anybody's guess. It was with some trepidation that he approached the ornate front desk at the Four Seasons Hotel and Resort.

"Good morning, sir," the perky voiced girl behind the counter greeted him. "How may I help you this morning?"

"Good morning," Caleb responded with a smile, and trying to match her upbeat tone. "Could you tell me what room Senator McGowan is in?"

The girl's smile slipped a little before she said, "I'm sorry, sir. I'm not allowed to give out that information."

Caleb could read the answer in her mind. He even saw the easiest route to the room in her thoughts.

His smile broadened and he said, "Good answer, miss, but I kind of wish you had told me. Scotty said that would be your answer, and you just cost me twenty dollars," Caleb continued with a grimace. "He's in the Congressional Suite on the second floor. I'm part of his security for today. I'll let him know that the front desk security protocols are acceptable. He was curious. He's thinking about a permanent residence here for when he's in the city. Thanks for your time."

Caleb turned and quickly, without seeming to hurry, went up a broad staircase to the second floor. Moments later he was at the door to the suite, and hesitated before knocking on the door.

"Am I doing the right thing?" Caleb asked Al.

"How should I know," his Companion replied. "I gave up trying to predict how humans will react to information about three days after we joined together. Humans are irrational, illogical, and usually unreasonable."

"How do you really feel?" Caleb asked with some amusement.

"Caleb, I didn't tell you what happened, and what could happen, for a lot of reasons," Al replied, taking an overly reasonable tone that Caleb was familiar with. "Preventing situations like this was one of those reasons."

"So you were going to protect those humans with Companions, and let the rest die?" Caleb asked in amazement.

"Yes," the alien replied with that same reasonable tone. "That's all we can do. There is no way for humanity to respond, as a species. If it took a couple of hundred years for a rescue ship to arrive, humans still couldn't respond. Dissimilar humans are not capable of working together for any length of time. If you laid out the facts for ten humans, from ten countries, you would have ten different responses, and the countries would be at war."

"Humans are argumentative," Caleb admitted. Al snorted in his mind, but Caleb continued with, "But we can unite when we have a common foe."

"Riiiight," Al ridiculed the idea. "Humans can't even agree on something as basic as a higher power, and the ones that agree there is one wage wars on what to call it!"

"Well, I hope you know us well enough to know that we won't just roll over and give up," Caleb said with grim determination, before knocking on the door.

"JJ, do you still want to be linked with me when I talk to Scotty?" Caleb asked.

"I'm linked. Be careful," JJ admonished.

"I will," Caleb said, buoyed by the confidence his wife had in him.

"I was called to the hospital," JJ continued. "I don't think I'll be more than a few hours, but I didn't want Blake to be alone. Mom is coming over to stay with him. Kim went back to school to work on the report with her friend."

"That should be fine," Caleb replied. "Blake should be able to keep your mom safe and out of trouble," he added, maintaining his serious tone of thought.

JJ only snorted, mentally, in response.

Caleb stepped back so that whoever looked through the spy hole could see who it was. The hole darkened for a moment, then, after a pause, the door was opened.

"Seal or Ranger," Caleb asked the blond haired man with a high and tight haircut.

"Seal," he answered. "Flan is the Ranger. You're early. Do you need to see the Senator?"

"Yes, please," Caleb replied. "It's important."

"About that ex-General?" the Seal asked.

"Partially. We ran into some of his people last night," Caleb replied.

"Anyone hurt?" the Seal asked.

"Yeah, his people didn't make it," Caleb said with a grimace. "They had an accident."

The Seal got a ghost of a smile before saying, "Good," and stepping back.

The Ranger, Flan, was sitting at a hotel desk facing the door as Caleb entered the room. His hand was in his lap, and Caleb was sure a pistol was aimed at him.

"Are you armed?" Flan asked.

"Of course I am," Caleb replied.

"It's okay, Flan," Scotty said, entering the room from one of the bedrooms. "I trust Connor as much as I trust you and Singer. If he wanted to shoot me, I would have been dead long ago."

Scotty turned to Caleb and asked, "Why are you early, Connor?"

"Al, are there any bugs in here?" Caleb asked.

"None, and the only signal from their cell phones is the carrier wave. There isn't a laser on the windows either," Al replied. "That wouldn't work anyway. They are triple paned, and wouldn't transmit the sound of voices to a laser."

"I need to talk to you, alone," Caleb answered Scotty.

"Not going to happen," Scotty said, shaking his head. "I trust Flan and Singer as much as I do you. Why are you early?" he asked again.

Caleb nodded slowly, ignoring the question again, and said, "I've never been formally introduced to your body guards. Would you do the honors?"

Scotty looked at Caleb for a long moment, eyes narrowed, before nodding slowly in return.

He gestured towards Flan and said, "James Flannigan. Everyone calls him Flan."

Caleb didn't wait for Scotty to continue. He carefully stepped to the desk, keeping his hands in sight, and held out his right hand to shake.

Flan glanced at Scotty and Singer before trading something between hands, under the desk. Caleb was gratified that he had been right about the pistol. Flan held out his right hand to shake.

"I'm glad to meet you, Flan," Caleb said. "I'm Caleb Connor."

"What do you think, Al?" Caleb asked.

"He is completely dedicated to Scotty," Al replied. "He'll be okay."

"I think so, too," JJ added.

Caleb dropped the hand and turned toward the other guard. Scotty's eyes were narrowed even farther, and his lips were a grim, straight line. Caleb didn't bother waiting for Scotty to make the introductions.

"Caleb Connor," he said, introducing himself, with his hand outstretched.

The former Seal glanced at Flan before grasping Caleb's hand, and saying, "Sam Manheim. They called me Singer in the Teams."

"Did you catch that?" JJ asked. "He's even more dedicated to Scotty than Flan is. Scotty forced a situation at the Pentagon that saved a lot of Seal's lives. I would trust him, as long as Scotty goes along with you."

"And we can't read him deeper because he blocks us from deep scans, somehow," Al cautioned.

"I trust Scotty," Caleb said flatly, before turning to face the Senator.

Scotty had moved to place a couch between him and Caleb. He had obviously made a defensive move, and Caleb sighed.

"Sorry about the drama," Caleb apologized to his old First Sergeant. "It was necessary. I know that you trust them, but I had to know if I could trust them. Now I know that I can trust them as much as I do you."

"And an introduction was all it took to reach that conclusion?" Scotty asked with raised eyebrows.

Caleb only nodded in answer, but stated, "You'll understand in a few minutes. You never told me that the ship that crashed on my camp site was because of a proximity bomb from a military satellite."

Scotty glanced at Singer and then at the door. He looked at Flan and made a circle motion with his finger.

Flan picked up a wand in one hand, similar to what they use in airport security, and quickly stepped to Caleb without setting his pistol down. He began slowly running the wand over Caleb's body.

"I'm not wired, and there are no bugs in here," Caleb said in a casual voice. "The only signal from our cell phones is the carrier waves, so they haven't been compromised. Also, the windows are clear. No one has a laser on them to pick up conversations, and those triple-paned windows would block anyone that tried."

"Clear," Singer said from the door.

"I'm not finding anything," Flan said.

"Disarm him until we get some answers," Scotty ordered grimly.

Caleb held his arms out from his side, and Flan carefully removed Caleb's pistol from the small of his back. Then he quickly, but thoroughly, searched Caleb from head to toe.

"Where did you hear that from?" Scotty demanded quietly, after Flan had finished, his mouth set in a grim line.

"From the lone survivor of the crash," Caleb replied. "Do you mind if we sit down? I have a lot to tell you, and this will take some time."

Scotty's eyes widened in shock before blurting, "There were no survivors."

"There was one ... um ... unconventional survivor," Caleb corrected. "Unconventional as we know it. Can we sit down?" he asked again.

Scotty waved towards a table with a coffee urn and some breakfast rolls.

Caleb sat and helped himself to a cup of coffee and a roll. He waited, and after a moment, Scotty sat across from him. Flan sat at the desk again, behind Caleb, with his pistol in plain sight and aimed at Caleb. Singer stood to Caleb's side, just out of his reach. His pistol was also visible. Caleb looked at Scotty with raised eyebrows.

"Connor," Scotty said quietly. "I consider you a friend. I trust you more than I trust most people. Despite that, you are about thirty seconds away from disappearing for a long time. There are, maybe, ten people in the world that know for a fact that a bomb brought down that space ship. Four of them, through no fault of their own, won't see the light of day for a very long time. You had better start explaining yourself, and fast."

"First, you need to hear what really happened when I stumbled out of that canyon, and into that crash site," Caleb answered. "There were egg shaped things that I later learned were survival pods. They weren't quite good enough for the occupants to survive a crash like that. One alien was still barely alive, and he carried a second consciousness in his mind. I told the entity in the alien's mind that I would help it, but I really didn't know what I was agreeing to. It moved to my mind. Since then I..."

Caleb laid the whole story out for his friend. At some point, during the story, and at a signal from Scotty, Singer holstered his pistol and poured himself a cup of coffee. It took over thirty minutes to explain everything.

"That's a good story," Scotty said when Caleb had finished. "You should write a book. Good fiction is hard to find."

"The truth is often stranger than fiction," Caleb rebutted. "Do you think I would lie to you about something like this? I know you could have me locked up."

Scotty nodded, and sighed before saying, "No, you wouldn't lie. You would tell the truth as you know it. How can you prove something like this?"

"Well, there's a couple of ways. Non-conventional proof would be my Companion talking to all of you. A more conventional method would be for you to call JJ. She's at home, and she is linked with me. You have my home phone number. Call her, and ask her what I'm doing right now," Caleb suggested.

Scotty's eyes narrowed again, but he picked up his cell, and called.

"Hi, JJ," Scotty said, when JJ answered the phone on the first ring. "Caleb's trying to prove a point about how close you two are. I'm supposed to ask if you know what he's doing right now. Would you care to take a stab at it?"

Caleb picked up a strawberry and bit into it.

"He's not trying to prove how close we are, but I won't say what he is trying to prove," JJ assured Scotty. "Right now, he's eating a strawberry that was picked too early. It's not very sweet."

"Thank you, JJ," Scotty said, his eyes never leaving Caleb's. "I look forward to seeing you again, soon."

Scotty ended the call and set his phone down. His eyes briefly flicked to his guards. He trusted them, but how far could he extend that trust.

"You can trust them completely," Caleb said aloud. "Both of them are completely dedicated to you. That's why I had to shake their hands before I could explain what really happened. I had to know that I could trust them, as much as I trust you."

Scotty's eyes snapped back to Caleb, and narrowed again.

"Yes, I can read your surface thoughts, but I can't deep scan you for some reason," Caleb supplied. "I can deep scan most people, after I touch them."

"So you're saying the end of the world is coming. Is that what you're telling me, Connor?" Scotty demanded quietly.

"Not exactly. What I'm telling you is that the human species is in great danger," Caleb answered in the same tone of voice.

"Why are you telling me?" Scotty asked. "I know you. Why aren't you running off to save the world, instead of telling me? I could have you locked up just for knowing about the crash."

"I AM running off to save the world," Caleb explained wryly. "That's why I'm telling you. You are part of that plan."

"Explain," Scotty ordered.

"First, you need a Companion. That will give you an edge when dealing with other politicians. I suppose Singer and Flan will need Companions, too. They'll be able to protect you better, and the three of you can communicate without being overheard. Then, I want you to run for President."

"Not going to happen," Scotty said, slashing his hand as if cutting off an argument. "I'm too old; I'm getting tired and achy. I could never win a presidential race because I no longer have the stamina for what that would take."

"Did you miss the health benefits of having a Companion?" Caleb asked, eye-brows raised. "You could live for a very long time, and be completely healthy the entire time, with a Companion."

"And what would I do as President?" Scotty asked. "If you want me in a position of power, the Senate Majority leader would be a better position. I would have a better handle on legislation."

"First of all, you'll win the presidential race," Caleb assured his friend. "Second, we need other congressmen on our side. You and your Companion can tell who you can trust to bring into the plan. You can also maneuver your allies into leadership positions. What I hope you can do, is get the federal government behind the effort to defend humanity. Kennedy was able to rally public support in the sixties to go to the moon. You can do it and call it revitalizing America's commitment to exploration, or something like that. The thing is, we need a dependable way to get out of the atmosphere, and the weapons to defend ourselves when we get there."

"What do we fight with?" Scotty protested. "That bomb strike was a fluke."

"It was a fluke," Caleb agreed. "The aliens didn't expect any offensive capability, and certainly not a proximity bomb on a satellite. Hopefully, mines are what they'll expect when they come the next time, too. We have other weapons in development that would be a surprise, though. Lasers are on ships now, for airborne missile defense. Lasers would be even more effective from a space platform because they wouldn't be attenuated by the atmosphere. Rail guns are being perfected, and are being tested on Navy ships as we speak. They would be more effective, and have a longer range from a space platform. Particle beams are being studied, and that science can be accelerated with Al's help."

Caleb looked from Scotty to the guards and back before saying, "All of those technologies mean that humans would have a chance against the aliens, on our own, if we have a little warning. Al is our ace in the hole. My Companion has the memories of his hosts from the last thirteen billion years. By visiting the people studying these technologies, we can plant information to bypass sticking points, and move the development into production. Also, we will know the aliens' weapons capabilities, defenses, and weaknesses. All we need to do is present enough of a defense to make them willing to talk to us. We can do this if we can get organized."

"What will you be doing while I'm saving the world?" Scotty asked sarcastically.

"Well, I was thinking about opening a church," Caleb said with a straight face.

Scotty shook his head disbelievingly, before saying, "What?"

"A church, or some type of organization that can gather and evaluate people for receiving a Companion. It was Blake's idea from a book he's reading," Caleb continued. "You need to recruit politicians, but we need a lot more than the elite in DC. We need a cadre of dedicated men and women to put this together and make it work."

"You're serious, aren't you?" Scotty said incredulously.

"Very," Caleb replied. "Can you think of a better way to be able to screen large numbers of people? Think about it Scotty. We can't respond to this threat with our little group, or even as just Americans. Humans, as a species, needs to respond to this threat. If the aliens come tomorrow, we don't stand a chance. If they come next year, we might have a ghost of a chance. Five or ten years from now, we need to be able to give them a run for their money. It isn't only the physical weapons we can develop enough to make them willing to talk to us. We can link, like we did when that Master Sergeant grabbed Kim. The mental power of that link is formidable. Many aliens have Companions too, but their link doesn't have the same power. Also, the numbers in their link is limited to the number of aliens in their ships. We have a whole world of humans to choose from. I don't know if there is a limit to how many can link, but I know the aliens won't have anything to match it."