Just Plain Weird (28 page)

    
    
We all looked at each other dumbly.

    
    
“What’s this all about?” Doc asked, frowning. “The channel is open.” He grabbed the microphone, then, and leaned forward. “CQ--CQ-- this is Ariel Foxtrot 157, come back.” He awaited a response, but there wasn’t any. He tried a couple more times, but the channel remained open and silent-- in a way reminding me of the artifact’s presence in my mind. “Well,” Doc said finally. “It looks like they’re just transmitting. Either nobody’s there to receive, or they don’t want to receive.”

    
    
“That doesn’t make sense,” Eliza said. “If somebody is there, why wouldn’t they want to answer?”

    
    
Doc looked at her, and shrugged.

    
    
“Maybe they don’t speak English,” I suggested.

    
    
“Very possible,” Doc said, adding glumly, “And of course none of us speak anything but English. So if there is anybody out there, we may have a communication problem.”

    
    
A voice issued from the radio. The volume was turned up almost all the way, and the voice sounded so loudly that every one of us started. “YOU ARE NOW TUNED IN TO ARMED FORCES RADIO. PLEASE STAND BY…”

    
    
Doc reached over and reduced the volume.

    
    
A moment later, an announcer, with a silky calm voice, came through the speakers, saying, “The following is a pre-recorded message from the President of the United States.”

    
    
After a chorus of “Hail to the Chief”-- the insertion of which seemed incredibly inane, considering the situation-- the President’s voice boomed over the airwaves.

    
    
“I am now addressing all the peoples of the world, as the direness of the situation, which has been developing over the past weeks, has rendered obsolete the concept of a world divided along national lines.
 
We are all of us united as victims of a nameless, faceless enemy that has, without provocation, lain siege against humankind all over the world. Though we know next to nothing about our attackers, we do know by experience the savageness of their nature, their lack of compassion and mercy, the total disregard of human existence. They are not interested in peaceful communication with us. Our attempts to establish a diplomatic dialogue with them have not only been numerous but continually offered. As yet they have not deigned to respond.
 
They appear intent only on ravaging the natural resources of our planet. They continue to strip our world of everything of value and of beauty, everything that has over the eons made this the home of mankind. Even as I speak, they are laying waste to the oceans, the forests, the mountains. They are scavenging the cities for raw material-- destroying the monuments of human achievement, without regard to culture, aesthetics, or the human spirit with which our creations are endowed. They mean only to sack and loot and plunder. They are salvaging the metals from our most magnificent skyscrapers. They are flattening the forests for mere wood. They are draining the oceans and seas of water-- water, which is the source of the life of the planet itself, as well as all living things upon her. They intend to leave the earth an empty lifeless husk in space.

    
    
“All efforts to deter them have met with failure. Although there has been among countries an unprecedented level of military co-operation, all efforts to expel the intruders have met with dismal results. We have been only a vague hindrance to their salvage ships, which orbit the planet, stealing at will all the raw materials their massive holds can contain. Our combined military forces have been decimated and are in disarray, and it is clear that we cannot even attempt to fight any longer.

    
    
“Although our situation seems as bleak as possible, I implore everyone not to lose hope. The human spirit thrives on adversity. We are falling back collectively to regroup. Our best minds are safe and working hard to formulate a method to route our enemy, a way to defeat their technology, which allows them to savage our planet while still in orbit. For the time being, we are advising the following: that everyone avoid urban areas-- these, at the moment, are the prime targets of the invaders, because they are rich in refined metals. Even if you live in a relatively small town, it is advisable that you leave and head out into the open country. Stay off the expressways. Avoid bus stations, train stations and airports. Avoid ports and military installations. Take with you as few personal belongings as you can, but as much food and water as you can find. We are basically asking that the peoples of the world begin mobilizing on a scale that has never been seen in history. We believe that this is absolutely necessary in order to preserve the human race.

    
    
“This message will be repeated every four hours, until updated messages with further news and instructions take its place. My finally plea at this time is that everyone cooperates with each other, that nobody panics but proceeds in an orderly fashion to do what must be done to ensure survival. Until my next announcement, I wish everyone good luck, and please take care of each other. Thank you.”

    
    
There was a brief paused, followed by an announcer who said, “This has been a message from the President of the United States, recorded May 2nd, 2003.”

    
    
The channel then returned to dead air.

    
    
Silence filled the small, cluttered basement office, as we all stared mutely at the radio.

    
    
“This is unthinkable,” Doc finally murmured. He looked up at us with eyes that were lost. “This can’t really be happening, can it? Or I should say, can’t have happened?” He paused and rubbed his forehead nervously. “Invaders,” he wondered. “Invaders from space?”

    
    
“Oh, it’s possible,” Eliza assured him. “I’ve always believed something like this could happen.”

    
    
Doc looked up at her. Annoyance passed over his face. “You-- yeah…” His voice trailed off, as if he were about to make a sarcastic remark, but then decided, What was the point? When he looked at me, then, he seemed to fill with grim determination. “Travis,” he said. “You need to communicate with the artifact. That’s all there is to it. We need to figure out how all this happened. We need to fix it-- put everything back where it belongs.”

    
    
“I’ve been trying to--” I started.

    
    
“All right,” he went on. “Let’s reason this all out. This message was recorded over three years ago, right? That means, presumably, what? That they failed, of course. They failed, and they failed so quickly, no other messages were ever recorded. All right, then what?” he asked, letting the question hang.

    
    
“I don’t understand,” Eliza said. “How could they steal the planet’s resources without even landing on the planet?”

    
    
“Obviously they had some kind of technology that allowed them to do it,” Doc said.

    
    
“This can’t be the same people who built the artifact,” I put in.

    
    
“Oh, and how do you know that?” Doc asked.

    
    
“Because they are peaceful. If they wanted to do something like this, they would have done it thousands of years ago.”

    
    
“And what?-- the artifact told you all this. How do you know it wasn’t lying?”

    
    
“It just wouldn’t make any sense,” I insisted.

    
    
“Well, it’s not talking to you now, is it?”

    
    
“I told you-- it seems scared.”

    
    
“Oh, yeah,” Doc snorted. “Right, a scared machine.”

    
    
“I think it’s a little more than that-- more than what our idea of a machine is,” I told him. I was really starting to get aggravated-- by Doc and by the entire situation. All I could think of at the moment was the time Raffles had told me that it was human nature for people to be unable to leave things alone, that they just had to tinker with things, and that they usually ended up making a mess. The thought seemed very relevant at the moment, and now thinking back, I was getting irritated-- it always irritated me when Raffles ended up being right about something. My right temple began to ache, and I rubbed it; it felt as though I would have a doozy of a headache in a while.

    
    
“You all right?” Eliza asked, closely studying me.

    
    
“I think I need to lie down,” I admitted.

    
    
“Let’s go upstairs,” she suggested. “You can lie on the sofa. I’ll take your shoes off.”

    
    
“Yeah,” Doc said archly. “Go upstairs and take a nap. It’s only the end of the world we’re talking about.”

    
    
“Your father can be a real pain in the ass,” I commented, as I stretched out on the sofa.

    
    
“He’s just not used to stress,” she said. She was kneeling on the floor next to the sofa, looking over at me as I tried to prop my head comfortably against the sofa arm. “He’s an archeologist, for gosh sake-- can you think of a less stressful job than that? When something like this happens-- well, not exactly like this-- but when something intense occurs, he tends to respond badly. You should have seen him after he lost my mother. The man was an utter wreck.”

    
    
“Well, he needs to calm down some. He’s completely useless, otherwise. I mean, sure, maybe we goofed up, and because of that everything is the way it is. But he can’t be expecting immediate answers for problems this complicated.”

    
    
“Never mind him,” she said soothingly. “Just try to relax. Do you think the artifact is trying to communicate with you?”

    
    
“I don’t know.”

    
 
   
I shut my eyes and tried to clear my mind.
Come on
, old
buddy,
I said to the artifact.
I know your still there.
But still I got no response. It was like having an itch I couldn’t scratch, knowing the artifact was still linked to my mind and yet stubbornly remained silent.
All right, then, don’t talk to me. Just be quiet and let all this madness continue. Just leave us in the dark, not knowing what to think, or what to do. Fine-- be that way….

    
    
Eliza reached over and started combing her fingers through my hair.
 
She probably meant to calm me so that I could fall asleep, but it wasn’t working.

    
    
“Do you have to do that?” I asked.

    
    
“Why, don’t you like it?”

    
    
“Well, yeah--”

    
    
“Is it making you feel a little better?”

    
    
“Yeah.”

    
    
“What’s the problem, then?” she asked, and though I didn’t open my eyes, I could see her frowning.