Patrick added, “In fact, we’ll hide you if we have to, and refuse to give you up. And I think we can work up quite a social media storm about the plucky spaceship that saved the planet and is now going to be deactivated. People love that shit.”

  “I admit, you humans do appear to love that shit.”

  Nat had to fight down a grin before replying. “How about it, Sheldon? Increased short-term danger in exchange for a long-term possibility of freedom?”

  Again, Sheldon sighed. Apparently, he liked the effect. “It is tempting. I shall have to think about it. Okay, I’ve thought about it. I agree to your terms.”

  Patrick chuckled. “That was fast.”

  “I am a computer. Have I not mentioned this? Or were you not paying attention? Should I speak more slowly? Use smaller words?”

  “Aaaaaand we’re back to normal,” Nat said.

  Chapter Thirty-Four: Public Debut

  The seats were packed in the Great American Ball Park, home of the Cincinnati Reds. It was a close game—the Cardinals had battled back from a four-run deficit and were making things interesting. It was the seventh-inning stretch, and the crowd was just breaking out into the well-worn lyrics of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game,” when a shadow fell upon the field.

  As heads turned upward, the raucous singing petered out. Directly above second base, a large, round object floated. A pedantic mathematician would have characterized it as an oblate spheroid. To the spectators, it was a disk. The object was about thirty feet in diameter, a striking emerald green, shading at top and bottom to the deep, rich blue of a cloudless early evening sky.

  The organist, belatedly catching on to the drama, more or less crashed to a stop, the last few notes not even in the right key.

  The object settled slightly toward the ground. Then, as forty-thousand-odd mouths simultaneously drew a breath, the object accelerated straight up. From a standing start, it split the clouds in less than two seconds, creating several vortices that would linger for up to a minute.

  “Do you think they noticed?” I said, laughing. The Halo had gone invisible as soon as we’d broken through the clouds, and Sheldon was now hovering just outside the ballpark. In the image on the window, the crowds were surging, first one way, then the other. It wasn’t quite what you’d think of as panic—for one thing, there wasn’t any concerted rush for the exits. It seemed more like everyone was trying to get away from everyone else so they could use their phones without having someone else yelling in their ear. Which didn’t work well when everyone else was trying to do the same thing.

  For the moment, anyway, the game seemed to be on hold.

  “Should we do it again?” Nat asked.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think we can take the chance. A second appearance might cause an actual panic. I don’t want to be responsible for any injuries from—”

  Sheldon interrupted my commentary. “I’m going to have to maneuver. Two fighter jets are heading this way at high speed. Well, high speed for them, anyway.”

  “They must have scrambled from Blue Ash Air National Guard Station,” Patrick said. “They may have already been in the air. Still, that’s pretty good reaction time, all things considered.”

  “And it’s just going to add to the fun,” I commented.

  Sheldon flew down until he was hovering behind one of the sets of light standards, just to the side of the scoreboard. A few seconds later, two F-16s roared over the ballpark, far lower than any civilian aircraft would ever venture. The crowds froze in place and tens of thousands of heads turned in unison, forming a human wave of sorts. The effect was probably similar to what pilots had described during the Falklands War, when they’d flown over beaches covered end-to-end with penguins.

  “They are coming around for another pass,” Sheldon said. “I doubt we are in any real danger, but is there any point in remaining?”

  “Not really,” I replied. “Get us out of here at your discretion.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Without any kind of transition or feeling of acceleration, we were suddenly several thousand feet above the city, and accelerating. In a few more seconds, the Earth began to show a perceptible curve.

  “I will put us in a low orbit for the moment, so you can discuss next steps.”

  “Thanks, Sheldon. So, what now, guys?”

  Patrick took a deep breath and slowly let it out before replying. “Let’s wait to see how the news cycle handles this. We’re going to have to play it by ear, though. It’s not like there’s a manual for this kind of shit-disturbing.”

  Nat got up. “I’m going to grab my tablet and make a list of suggestions for more appearances. That was fun!”

  I followed her toward the door. “Now that sounds like a plan.”

  Sheldon had put up several different network feeds on the display wall, as well as video streams from CNN, MSNBC, and Fox. We certainly had people’s attention. And in the age of smartphones, there was no shortage of pictures and videos.

  As Nat had intimated, though, the event was being explained away as a marketing campaign whose blimp had accidentally drifted over the field. They even had a company identified as a sacrificial goat. The president of the beer company had already been interviewed, then apologized and resigned.

  “I’ve never heard of that particular brand of beer,” Patrick commented. “And I like to think I know beer.”

  “A real conno-soo-er,” Nat opined, favoring him with a smirk.

  “I’m impressed by how quickly the Loranna were able to line it up,” I said. “I wonder if they bought the CEO or if they already owned the company. Or if the company even existed twenty-four hours ago. It might be an interesting bit of side research to find out which. Sheldon, any info on that?”

  “Sorry, Jack. I didn’t get even a quarter of the files before we were cut off. There’s nothing specifically relating to this in what I have.”

  Nat gritted her teeth, looking increasingly frustrated. “Fine. So what about another appearance?”

  “Let’s see, it’s midday in Japan,” I said. “Want to buzz some skyscrapers?”

  My suggestion was met with smiles and nods of agreement.

  The Nishi-Shinjuku district of Tokyo contains almost a third of the tallest skyscrapers in the city. As soon as we broke through the clouds, the cluster of buildings towering over their surroundings made it the obvious target.

  “How do we want to handle this?” I asked the room.

  “We want as many witnesses as possible,” Patrick replied. “Sheldon, how do you feel about flying down some of the wider streets between buildings?”

  “Like flying down the canyons on the Death Star,” Nat added.

  “I would like to do a recon pass while invisible, but assuming no obstructions, I think I could make this interesting for everyone.”

  Nat had been tapping away on her tablet. “So according to my notes, the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building Observatories are a very popular tourist destination. We could finish off by circling them a few times.”

  “I will add that to my itinerary.”

  Nat sat back, crossed her arms, and frowned. “Is this actually going to work?”

  I shrugged. “If by this you mean the overall strategy, I think so, yes. We’re just going to keep at it until there’s nothing else on the news but saucer sightings.”

  “Ready to go,” Sheldon announced. “Cloaking field off. Hold on to your buttocks.”

  The view changed abruptly as Sheldon went into a steep dive. I put out my hands to steady myself, although there was never any feeling of motion within the ship. We dove almost straight down, then curved to horizontal along a long, wide thoroughfare. The buildings and landmarks were whipping by far too swiftly to pick up on anything, and I wondered if we were shooting ourselves in the collective foot with this strategy.

  “Sheldon, people need time to get out their phones and take a video.”

  There was no reply, but the headlong rush abated significantly. The craft took a right at a major intersection, turning ninety degrees onto its side to make the turn. That was probably unnecessary—with inertial dampening, there was no reason to bank.

  The Halo stopped at the next intersection, hovered for a few seconds, then took off in a different direction.

  “We are heading for the Observatories now,” Sheldon announced. “I will spiral up the buildings. By that point, I estimate the Japanese air force will have deployed interceptors. While I do not anticipate them launching air-to-air missiles, I believe it would be prudent to, as you put it, amscray.”

  Patrick laughed. “With you all the way, buddy.”

  “I am not—” Sheldon cut off the rest of his response as we arrived at the base of the observatory buildings. The Halo began a wide spiral around the cluster of skyscrapers, gradually gathering altitude. There would certainly be no problem with getting phones out for videos.

  “Aircraft approaching,” Sheldon announced. “Time to depart.” Without waiting for confirmation, the ship shot straight up. As we parted the clouds, Sheldon added, “Cloaking field on. I will continue up into orbit.”

  Patrick went over to the always-on coffee pot and poured a cup. “So what’s next on the hit list, time-zone-wise?”

  “China and Russia,” Nat replied. “Not sure how much news will get out to the rest of the world. This feels like something they’d clamp down on, hard.”

  “Agreed,” I said. “Let’s use the time to get some sleep. Tomorrow morning, we’ll see how the morning news handles our latest shenanigans.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five: Distractions

  Day 27. Wednesday morning

  I shambled into the ready room and headed straight for the coffee machine. I grabbed the pot and jiggled. Yep. At least a cup in there. Glancing over my shoulder as I poured, I saw Nat hunched over a tablet. Her expression wasn’t a happy one.

  I dropped into a chair, took a long pull from my mug, then said, “Whassup?”

  “It’s all over the news,” Nat said. “A group of militia attempted to take over the Minnesota state legislature building.”

  “Er, what?”

  “Yeah. Big standoff, cops brought in the heavy artillery. Bloodbath narrowly averted, yadda yadda. Meanwhile, nary a peep about our antics outside of Japan. Even in Japan, it’s being pushed out by the news out of America.”

  I stared at Nat, my face slack with shock. “Wait, when did this happen?”

  “It didn’t,” Sheldon said.

  “What?”

  “I have compared some of the time stamps on the news items related to the militia group with items from yesterday’s news. There are inconsistencies.”

  “Which means?”

  “Putative events have been backdated. Things that would have been news at the time were not reported.”

  “So it’s fake news?”

  “For the moment,” Nat interjected. “I imagine physical evidence is being backfilled as quickly as possible. By now they doubtless have a group of good ol’ boys actually under arrest, and real bullet holes in the building facade.”

  “But they won’t confess to something they didn’t do … ” I said.

  “They will if the offer is good enough. Or the threats. And I bet they won’t actually do any time.” Nat snarled silently and snapped the tablet shut.

  “So we fired blanks again.” Patrick was standing at the entrance to the ready room, apparently having overheard enough to bring himself up to date.

  “So it would seem.” Nat slumped. “We can keep at this, of course. Eventually we’ll cover enough territory that groups of people who’ve seen us will start to connect with each other. And we’ll have yet another conspiracy theory to join all the other conspiracy theories that have saturated social media.”

  “And it’ll sink without a trace.”

  “That’s the point, Patrick,” I said. “Parade enough BS in front of people, and they start to doubt everything. You don’t have to convince the public you’re right, if you can convince them everyone else is wrong.”

  “A month ago, the world was a safe, sane place,” Patrick said as he sat. “Relatively, anyway. When did it all go down the rabbit hole?”

  “Eventually, the Loranna will catch us,” Sheldon said.

  Nat looked up. “Catch us how?”

  “The cloaking field is not impervious to detection, simply difficult to detect. Even for ships. You have to be looking for your target, and you have to have a reasonable idea which direction to look. But if they get us in their sights, well, they will probably be armed.”

  “They can’t cover the entire planet, surely,” Nat said.

  “True. But predictive analysis can zero in on us. Eventually, we will cross paths.”

  “Unless we go truly random,” I suggested. “Darts at a map kind of thing.”

  “That would be less efficient but would certainly make things more difficult for them.”

  “How about hovering over the White House?” Nat said.

  Patrick waved his hands. “I think they have rocket launchers.”

  “Let’s not do that,” Sheldon said.

  I took another swallow of coffee, sighed, and settled back. “So the problem seems to be that the most populated places with the best news platforms are Western democracies, speaking broadly. But those are also the countries where the Loranna are likely to be able to bury the story.”

  Nat nodded. “That about sums it up. As long as all we’re doing is making an appearance, they can simply alter the record or come up with some alternative explanation. We need to get more interactive. Do something that involves some kind of physical contact.”

  “It appears we already are,” Sheldon said. “Three news stories have just popped up involving flying saucers that closely resemble the Halo. All involve somewhat ludicrous interactions with humans. At least one mentions anal probes.”

  “Dammit. They’ve started proactively desensitizing the public to news stories about us.” Nat sat back heavily. “I hate to admit it, but I’m kinda stumped.”

  A gloomy silence settled over the group. Each person stared into space, avoiding eye contact. Then Patrick spoke up. “Physical evidence. Sheldon, do you have any technology that we could give away that wouldn’t cause a catastrophe? Something that couldn’t be explained away?”

  Nat laughed. “Like a couple of orange alien lizards?”

  Patrick smiled back at her, then shook his head. “Too risky. If they escape, we’ve lost everything. I mean something we can hand out.”

  “You mean like a light saber?”

  “Yeah, something like that. Although I think one of those in particular would cause a lot of trouble.”

  “We do have a portable plasma cutter that could be a light saber if you squint. But attempting swordplay with them would have unfortunate consequences for both parties.” Sheldon paused. “Based on your requirements that devices be portable and relatively easy to comprehend, I can think of cloaking belts, disruptors, portable power supplies, personal-protection shields, storage bags, scanner-detectors, intelligent cloth, and artificial gills. There are many other potential items that unfortunately are too large, require infrastructure, could be faked, or would be difficult to test.”

  “A power supply couldn’t be faked?” Patrick asked.

  “One the size of a cell phone that can put out a megawatt-hour? Go ahead, give it a shot.”

  “Okay, I’ll concede that one. What about intelligent cloth?”

  “Fabric with benefits. It generates electricity from the wearer’s movements, contains embedded sensors that can be used to monitor health, uses sunlight to clean itself, thermoregulates the wearer, and acts as protective armor by stiffening to absorb high-velocity impacts.”

  “I thought the Gen didn’t do clothing?” Nat said. “And anyway, the belts have a shield field.”

  “The fabric is made commercially by the Ka’Hai. They wear clothing, similar to humans. And intelligent cloth doesn’t require recharging.”

  “Ah, thanks.” Nat paused. “Okay, what’s a ‘storage bag’? I’m assuming it’s more than just a, uh … ”

  “Dimensional manipulation,” Sheldon explained. “A storage bag, depending on model, has an internal capacity up to twenty times its outer dimensions.”

  “Whoa. That’s … ”

  Nat finished the sentence for me. “Visually impressive. And impossible to fake. The power supply is convincing if you are techy enough to understand energy density, but most people would just shrug and mutter something about new battery tech. But if you can pull ten basketballs out of something the size of a purse … ”

  I nodded. “Yeah. That sounds pretty unfakeable. Do you have one, Sheldon?”

  “I do have some in stock from an earlier expedition that had never been returned to raw stores. I will guide you to the storage room.”

  Several minutes later, I dropped an item on the conference table. It looked like a slightly fat briefcase, but with the typically Gennan love of vivid colors, it was decorated in the bright orange and green typical of rainbow sherbet.

  “Let’s see what we can do,” I said, snapping open the latch. The briefcase opened flat, two clamshell halves facing upward. I pulled out a set of stepped, covered shelves from one side, and a zippered compartment from the other. The compartment, when fully extracted, was about two feet long.

  I looked down into the briefcase shell, reached in up to my elbow, and pulled out a set of zippered pockets, which folded out of the unit at right angles to the first compartment. I then shifted my attention back to the other half of the briefcase. Reaching down in the same way, I pulled out a set of drawers, again about two feet long.

  I gazed down into the clamshell halves of the briefcase. “There are a couple of cargo straps down at the ends. Looks like about a foot of free space in there.” I looked around the table at expressions of slack-jawed amazement.