First Chapter

If you’d like a preview before committing to buying the book, here’s the first chapter to whet your appetite.

Chapter One

At around 2.30 am, on a mundane rainy Monday, the President of the United States was awoken by a knock on his bedroom door.  This was not a daily occurrence, nor was it totally out of the blue. As Commander in Chief there are moments when it can’t wait.  Apparently, this was one of those times.

“Who’s there?” grumbled the President.

“It’s me, Mr President,” came the reply, “We need you in the Situation Room.” The President sighed. It was Lena, his Chief of Staff. That meant that it was important. Probably very important. Who was he kidding, if Lena was knocking on his door at this ungodly hour, then something was up.  He dragged himself out of bed, put on his robe, and started making his was to the door.

The Situation Room is buried in the depths of the White House. Apart from the nuclear bunker, it’s the safest place in Washington, DC. There are no windows, as it’s several levels below ground. In its centre is a long table, surrounded by chairs. The walls are decorated with large digital screens, showing maps, tactical information, and whatever else is needed when there is a national or international emergency.

Under normal circumstances the chairs would be full of advisors, such as the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the Director of the FBI, CIA, or any of the other three-letter agencies. Instead, there was a woman, of about 30 years of age.  She was dressed casually, in jeans and a hoodie that read “SETI” in large letters.

The President entered.  Lena began, “Mr President, this is Dr Kennedy, she works at SETI. The Search for …”

“Lena, I know what SETI is,” interrupted the President, “It’s the Search for Extra-terrestrial Intelligence Institute.”  The President was grumpy, he often is before his first coffee of the morning, especially when woken so early.

“Dr Kennedy, you don’t work for SETI,” continued the President, “It’s 2.40 am, which means there’s an emergency, and SETI is on the other side of the country, I’d guess at least eight hours by flight, plus the time it takes to pick you up, drive you to the nearest military air base, and so on.”

“All due respect, Mr President, I do work for SETI. I have an unusual role, which means I don’t live on site. In fact, I live in Rhode Island, a much shorter flight,” replied Dr Kennedy. 

“I’ll bite. What is your role?”

“I’m a philosopher.”

“A philosopher?”

“Yes.”

“You have a PhD in philosophy?”

“Yes.”

“You have a Doctorate of Philosophy in Philosophy?”

“Yes.”

“Lena?”

“Yes, Mr President?”

“Where’s the coffee?”

“One moment,” came the reply. On the table was an intercom, Lena pressed a button, “Now.”

Immediately the door opened, a soldier entered in full-dress military uniform carrying a tray. He placed a mug in front of the President, along with a carafe of coffee, a small jug of cream, but no sugar.  The President liked to pretend that he didn’t have a sweet tooth.  However, the White House’s head chef knew better. The soldier placed a plate of chocolate covered doughnuts adjacent to the coffee. He then repeated the process for the other two occupants, it was a big tray. He turned smartly and left the room. He hadn’t spoken a single word.

“That’s a lot of coffee,” remarked the President.

“Yes, it is,” replied Lena.

“Doughnuts too? I guess I’m not going back to bed.”

“No, Mr President, I don’t think you are.”

“Dr Kennedy, can you please tell me why I’m not going to get any more sleep until this evening?”

“That’s funny, Mr President. You think you’ll be sleeping tonight?”

The President held up his hand. He poured himself a coffee. Took a long swig. He slurped slightly, as it was hot. He hoped no one noticed, but they probably did. He then picked up a doughnut, took an enormous bite, chewed, swallowed, and smiled. It was delicious.

“Go,” he said.

“We think there’s life on Mars, Mr President,” stated Dr Kennedy flatly.

“You think? How confident are you?”

“Eight hours ago, we were 40% certain. Four hours ago, that rose to 55%, two hours 80%, and as of 30 minutes ago, 100%.” 

“That’s a rapid progression.”

“I know.”

“Talk me through it.”

“Eight hours ago, we detected an unusual radio pattern close to the northern pole of Mars. It lasted a little under five minutes and couldn’t be easily explained by natural phenomena.”

“You investigated further?”

“Yes, we had to reposition the James Web Space Telescope. It’s designed for searching the Milky Way, not Mars, so it took a beat.”

“What did it find?”

“A spaceship.”

“You’re sure it’s a spaceship?”

“It’s approximately the same size and dimensions as the Empire State Building. So yes, we’re confident it’s a spaceship, Mr President.”

“I see. Why only 55% certainty of aliens.”

“It could have been un-aliened.”

“Un-aliened?”

“It’s not from earth, so it can’t be unmanned. It could contain aliens, or it could be autonomous.”

“What changed?”

“Two vehicles departed the spaceship and started clearing the immediate surroundings. They appeared to be removing rocks, and filling in small craters, to create an even surface.”

“You say ‘appeared to be’, you don’t know for sure?”

“We didn’t have continuous monitoring. Due to the varying alignment of planetary orbits, there are windows when we cannot monitor. The rest of the time we wait. Initially there was just a spaceship, then there were two additional land vehicles, then the surface was clear and even. We’re making assumptions, but they seem probable.”

“Why only 80%?”

“It was reasonable to think that they were clearing space to build a camp or complex of some kind, which would suggest a habitat for sentient beings. It could have been for other reasons, such as building long range communication devices. Alien life seemed more likely, but not an absolute.”

“How large is the clearing?”

“We estimate it to be approximately 60 meters long and 30 meters wide, Mr President.”

“We use the metric system now?”

“We’re scientists, Mr President.”

“What happened 30 minutes ago?”

“By coincidence, a probe was launched nine months ago to Mars. It was due to land tomorrow, but our engineers were able to reprogram it. The probe is now in Martian orbit, positioned above the landing site.”

“You now have continuous monitoring?”

“Yes.”

“Dr Kennedy?”

“Yes, Mr President?”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Ten life forms exited the spaceship. They appear to have a similar physiology to humans.  Two arms, two legs, one head, no tail or visible antennae.  Five of them are wearing blue spacesuits, complete with helmets. The other five are wearing red spacesuits, again with helmets.”

“Ten life forms?”

“Yes.”

“So, 100%.”

“Yes.”

“The two colours imply two separate teams, with different responsibilities or roles.”

“That’s logical. But our observations suggest something different is happening.”

“Do we know what they are doing?”

“We have a strong theory, Mr President.”

“Care to share your theory, Dr Kennedy?”

“Why don’t you have another bite of your doughnut first, Mr President?”

“You’ve just told me that an alien spaceship the size of the Empire State Building has landed on Mars. About 30 minutes ago ten aliens emerged from said spaceship.  What can they possibly be doing that would be easier to swallow after a mouthful of doughnut?”

“They’re playing soccer, Mr President.”

“Soccer?”

“The reds are winning 4-2, sir.”

“You know the score?”

“Yes. The red’s striker has mad skills. Two goals with his left foot, and two with his right. No headers.”

“He can shoot with both feet, but can’t head the ball?”

“None of them are, we think the helmets get in the way.”

“The Reds are winning 4-2?”

“Yes, the last I heard.”

Dr Kennedy removed a mobile phone from her pocket, tapped a few times on the screen, then looked up to address the President.

“It might be about to change; the Reds have a penalty. One moment …,” Dr Kennedy said before returning her gaze to her phone, she paused, then continued, “It’s now 5-2. Looks like the same player who scored the other goals, sent the keeper the wrong way, placed it in the top right corner. As I said, he’s got mad skills.”

“You’ve got a live video feed of an alien soccer match on Mars?”

“There’s an English researcher on loan from Oxford University.  He’s currently at SETI, watching the game, and logging updates to an internal blog.  It’s not quite live, as it takes six minutes to receive signals from Mars.”

“Is the internal blog secure?”

“Yes.”

“Does the English researcher have security clearance?”

“He does now.”

“He does now!  Why him?”

“He’s English. They invented football.”

“What could he possibly add that an American can’t?”

“He understands the offside rule.”

“The offside rule? There is no offside in 5-a-side football!” exclaimed the President.

“We know that now, he told us, but we didn’t know that before.”

“Is this a joke?”

“No, sir.” 

The President paused, took another long gulp of his coffee, finished his doughnut, then continued.

“Dr Kennedy, I’m looking around the table. I can’t see the NASA Administrator, or any of the military chiefs. Instead, I have you, a philosopher.  Why?”

“Inviting them would be a waste of time and energy. What could they possibly say that would be of any use?”

“Oh, I don’t know, military advice or strategy, perhaps?”

“They’ll argue, swear, blame each other, and eventually tell you to nuke it.  Our technology is inferior to theirs; we have no military options.” 

“Any other reasons?”

“Yes, there are two. The less people who know, the less chance the media find out before we’re ready.”

“We’re going to be ready?”

“We have to be.”

“What’s the other reason?”

“These doughnuts are delicious. I don’t like sharing.”

Another pause. The President was letting it sink in, before continuing.

“What was the title of your thesis?”

“Linguistic, cultural, and communication strategic responses to extra-terrestrial initial contact.”

“What does that mean in plain in English?”

“Mr President, a spacecraft has landed on Mars. It has at least ten alien life forms onboard.  We don’t know their intentions. They might be on a peace mission, a voyage of discovery, or searching for planets to conquer. If they decide to continue to Earth, what do we say?”

“Do you have an answer?”

“I have several. I have a whole thesis of answers. But it will take some time.”

“Hence the coffee and doughnuts.”

“Exactly.”

“Dr Kennedy, do you think their intent is hostile?”

“Impossible to say. If they want to blow us up, they aren’t in a hurry.”

“What’s the best-case scenario?”

“A bachelor party, sir.”

“You think it’s a bachelor party?”

“No, I don’t. They weren’t on Mars yesterday; they weren’t even in the solar system yesterday. They are now. A bachelor party is the best-case scenario.”

“Understood.”

“Shall we continue?”

“Yes, of course, but I need a few moments to … well, to let the situation sink in. Meet back here at 3.30. Then we’ll begin.”

“Yes, Mr President.”