The Security Meeting was tense with unspoken fears. Not seen in the unflinching, inscrutable expressions…. but elsewhere. Hidden from view under the table, a drumbeat of feet as frog-like tongue extending then retracting, the forgiving wool carpet closed over the anxiety in a darting visco-elasticity; clenched hands scrunched the thighs of workaday suits; heels strummed in silence along one calf, one shin then changed legs.
The President spoke. “Any suggestions how the people can be brought on board? Compliance with whatever we decide is crucial. The survival of humanity, not to mention our intergalactic standing, is at a crossroads. Could go one way or the other”
“Well under the table with your head in a brown paper bag’s been done. And going to an underground secure room won’t straighten out this one” Secretary Conor, ever the comedian, quipped.
“Could tell the Truth. That would be new….and convincing. Revealing it’s hosting a deadly interstellar zoonotic virus, from below the permafrost of Mendomia Ⅲ just might work.” The President’s bass voice boomed compellingly.
“Or cause panic, rioting, and the collapse of the civil code” a third shrill voice ventured.
Eyes turned towards Violet, the minute-taker. Officially she didn’t have permission to speak, but the President had exercised his discretion on many previous occasions (nothing to do with their affair!) and the Council had to agree that her contributions, if seldom infrequently offered, were practical.
“Indeed, -go on.”
“It could be presented as an unexpected re-appearance of that asteroid “lost” in 2007; emphasise how NASA’s expertise has traced the renegade meteor….now with an unwelcome hitch- hiker in attendance.”
The vote with the one exception,-Conor,-was unanimous. Within minutes Federal, State and Local Governments acted. Phones and smart watches pinged, e-mails popped-up, terrestrial TV and radio channels were interrupted with announcements of interstellar concern. The Emergency Message was cascaded nation-wide, planet-wide and ever outwards to the far edges of the universe.
“There is no cause for concern, neither from the virus nor from an earth strike. The capsid protein coat protecting the virus will disintegrate on entering the earth’s atmosphere, exposing the genome inside to the destructive effects of the planet’s natural long-wave radiation. The pathogen cannot survive. Computer Modelling also confirms no meteor strike is expected this century. Earth is safe from the biowarfare of the Ancient Mendomians. Carry on your lives as normal.”
And they did….to a large extent. True, some became possessed in watching the advancing comet tail as it metaphorically pupated,- from a gold -lacquered tadpole, to a tangerine cocoon, before erupting into a fully- formed vermilion tumescence. But for the most part they worked, played, made love, quarrelled, and settled their differences as they always had.
Until impact.
Motes streamed as the galaxy inwardly imploded. Light matter, dark matter, all was siphoned into the enfolding and spiralling figure- of- eight. The event was attended by a whistling, whizzing scream. There was no time for Humanity to process. Last wise words were few.
Conor’s…. “Going the other way. All gone”
