Outside Context Problem: Book 02 - Under Foot

  “The President is in hiding for a reason,” Nicolas pointed out. “Most of my contacts will have scattered. Making contact won’t be as easy as you think.” He looked over at Carlson. “And it’s not the same country you left down there. You won’t recognise it now.”

  “All the more reason to stop them,” Abigail said, surprising herself. “Whatever it takes to stop them, it’s worth the price.”

  ***

  Nicolas wished, just for a moment, that he could talk with the President, or another superior officer. It was ironic, in a way; he’d spent years enduring political interference from people who thought that a SEAL was a furry aquatic mammal, yet the one moment he would have sold his soul for some guidance from high above, it failed to materialise. He was only a junior officer, when push came to shove, and his resistance command had been broken, scattered or captured. His handful of contacts might have gone underground, leaving him floundering around with no more clue where to take them than any random civilian, yet…what choice was there?

  He looked up at the alien, wishing he could read that inscrutable alien face. It was possible that it was all a plot to draw the President out of hiding; it was possible that Carlson was simply another of the Walking Dead or a Quisling, but his instincts were telling him that he could trust him. They could have killed or implanted him at any moment. If their story held water – and he couldn’t pick any holes in it – it was a chance to really hurt the aliens, to defeat them and force them off the planet completely. It was a chance to capture their technology and use it against them. He couldn’t let the chance slip away because he was nervous of the possible consequences. The human race could not be transformed into something inhuman. There was no price that was not worth paying to avoid that final fate, that final humiliating defeat. They didn’t have any choice at all.

  And yet, might they simply be exchanging one master for another? The reports on the alien mothership had implied that it literally couldn’t go anywhere else – that it was settle Earth or die – and the alien rebels would face the same problem, even if they took over with minimal losses. They couldn’t evacuate Earth and go to Mars, let alone another star system. They’d have no choice, but to remain on Earth, if on better terms. He smiled thinly. The aliens would make much better occupants of the Middle East than the prior owners.

  And there was no choice. That helped.

  They’d trained him to make up his mind quickly and so he did.

  “I’ll help you,” he said, and held out a hand. Ulhash took it with a delicate grey hand that seemed almost childlike, weak enough to snap easily. They shook hands firmly over the table. “As long as there’s the slightest hope of victory, we’ll save both of our races from disaster.”

  The Story Will Conclude In

  The Slightest Hope of Victory

  Coming Soon!