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Book 1 | Chapter 30

30

On the wall, a live video feed of myself joined the stack at the top, two forerunner flags flanking me, plastering the symbol I made while Earth spun behind the giant bulkhead window. Jason insisted we show the planet during the call for dramatic effect to hone in on my unique standing amongst these leaders.

I’m in space, and they are not.

It was undoubtedly a childish way of looking at it, but Jason was right.

Stacked with the other leaders, I stood out from President Howell and the twelve others from Germany, Italy, New Zealand, Mexico, Canada, France, South Africa, Japan, the UK, Russia, China, and the President of the European Commission. I invited the countries affected by the initial quartz attack and those willing to talk to me. Unfortunately, Singapore declined to join the meeting, so I only had Prime Minister Justin Walker of New Zealand as the friendly face in the chat.

They waited for me to speak first.

I cleared my throat, trying not to look too uncomfortable.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for answering my call and attending this meeting. I’ve spoken with a few of you in private, but most of you refused my call.” I made sure to look at China and Russia directly. “And I understand why you are vigilant. You don’t know me. You don’t know my intentions and why I hadn’t answered your calls during the early days when there was a lot of fear and confusion. I can make a dozen excuses, but the simplest explanation was that I was rather busy dealing with the quartz. But I’m here now, ready to listen.”

Another breath.

“You already know who I am, but let me formally introduce myself: I am Anton Segerstrom. And to answer your first question: I control this orbiting station and its technology. For your second question, I gained control of it because they chose me to be in charge. It was a rather difficult process. And for your third question, the crystalline ships attacking Earth are my enemy and yours. You’ve already seen that for yourselves, and I’ve sent out a broadcast with more details about our shared plight.”

I paused. There was a long silence, and I was afraid there was a delay between our call, but Prime reassured me that the feed was instantaneous. I realized they were trying to form an opinion about me, probably confused about why I dressed this way, like I was going to a Star Wars convention and the environment (backdrop) I chose. It was not something you see every day.

It was President Howell who spoke first. Of course, he gotta interject ahead of the others.

“It seems you came prepared to answer half of our questions, staff sergeant. But let me say this first: On behalf of the United States government and the American people, we thank you for saving countless lives in New York and San Francisco. The American People and I owe you a great deal of debt, one that we can hopefully repay. In my books, you and your friends are American heroes.”

I was not expecting him to be cordial. Right off the bat, he buttered me up and delivered an ultimatum. Howell certainly had a way with words, which was why he won fifty-nine percent of the votes from the last election. But he had been unforthcoming for the past couple of weeks. Yesterday, he was throwing shit on my wall, blaming me for the failed military operation in San Francisco that he himself conducted and putting the blood of ten thousand American soldiers on my head. I want to tear him a new one.

However, I could only grit through his hypocrisy and smile while twelve other leaders watched me like a hawk and judged my movements. I glanced at my father and Uncle Nathan, letting them know I behaved as planned.

Be an angel.

Be courteous yet firm.

Be polite.

And don’t forget to smile.

Jackasses.

President Zhao of China leaned toward the camera. “And it’s clear you’ve prioritized American lives more than the rest of the world. Almost five million people died in Beijing, and we are still sifting through the rubble for more.”

“I extend my condolences to you, President Zhao. We have all suffered terrible losses,” Howell said and again regarded me. “But upon your eventual return, staff sergeant, I will be honored to award you the distinguished Medal of Honor and the Presidential Medal of Freedom for you and Ms. Hansen’s, Mr. Navarro’s, and your friends’ deeds, among many things. The American people would love to give you a hero’s welcome. When can we expect your return?”

I narrowed my eyes. We’ve had this dance before, and I’ve already said not to him twice. “Er, my return?” I asked. That was rich of him to say he would give me a hero’s welcome when he had been a busy bee stinging me behind my back with a few hit pieces over the press.

Howell continued, “Of course. This technology is a great boon to humanity, not only for its benefits but also for its protection against threats from beyond the stars. We are no longer alone in the universe. I have already spoken to the other members of NATO for the eventual transition, and we have designed a plan to best utilize this brand-new frontier for humanity. Rest easy, Mr. Segerstrom. You and your friends will no longer be alone in this fight. You’ve done enough. We can take it from here.”

I bit my lip. Ah. Howell would force my hand by letting me publicly say no to his face. He already knew what my answer would be. He wanted the other world leaders to hear it for his benefit, and with NATO involved, they would shut the door to my face to uphold the alliance.

This was a call to gain allies.

Howell was going to make sure I didn’t get it.

I had a feeling they already knew, too. They probably planned this for weeks since I showed up. “And who will be spearheading this new mission, Mr. President?” You?

I quickly spotted President Howell looking over to the side of the camera, and I noticed China, Russia, and Great Britain were not particularly happy.

President Howell smiled. “Well, since you are American, and Americans have first discovered this technology, the United States will be leading this new directive with the full backing of NATO and the United Nations. We will have to study the technology first before introducing it into public hands, but in the years to come, we can hopefully better protect Earth against extraterrestrial threats.”

I pretended to be thinking about it for a second as if the involvement of NATO and the UN should change my mind. The only problem was that they didn’t know how I gained control of the forerunner tech in the first place. I had to die first, and the cycle would continue.

“I see,” I said.

I glanced at Jason and Amelia, who watched me intently. I could not read their expression behind the glare of the studio lights. Uncle Nathan stood motionless while my father shook his head.

I heaved a sigh. “I should spare you the trouble of feigning ignorance, Mr. President. I am not handing out this technology to you or anyone. I’ve rejected your offer twice. Consider this the third time, and I hope it sticks.”

As if I dropped a massive bomb on their desk, they all froze, eyes blinking, trying to process it. President Howell’s polite facade melted away, turning to the other video feeds as if conveying through his expression, “See? See what we are dealing with?” For a seasoned politician, I was surprised he truly believed I would hand off everything just like that because he got the big guns involved, as if a united front with the other leaders would intimidate me.

I admit I got a little satisfaction from proving him wrong.

Howell must have read a thorough multitude of background checks about me and judged me based on the flimsy folder he had on his desk about my time as a Marine and as a college student. He probably concluded that I must be gullible but a high-functioning idiot (given I’ve killed some of the quartz). I was young and hoped that showering me with a hero’s praise, medals, hollow platitudes, and tacked-on virtue signaling would sway my decision. After all, everybody wanted to be seen as a hero.

All at once they started shouting, demanding answers, some throwing one loaded question after another but were quickly drowned out by the others. Howell was the only one who remained silent, but his expression told me otherwise: He was pissed as a mad hippo on heat. If looks could rip me to shreds, I would be dead already.

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President Zhao Haoyu of China, an old and grizzled man in his early sixties, and President Alexei Borodin, the young Russian leader in his forties who looked more like the president’s bodyguard than the one sitting behind the desk, were amused at the chaos I had wrought. Smelling an opportunity, they tried to wrestle control of the conversation, but I wouldn’t let them have it.

“Ladies and gentlemen—” I cut through the noise after five minutes of constant debates, “—my decision is final. I’m sorry if that is not the news you wanted to hear or whatever President Howell promised you, but I am not handing out this tech to any nation.”

“You hold the world hostage by having them for yourself!” President Zhao brought his fist down on his desk. “Giving this technology to more capable hands who have years upon years of training in sciences, engineering, and far ahead of yours, AND the resources to deliver it…keeping it is irresponsible, dangerous, and ridiculous!”

I snapped my finger, and Prime One floated into the screen and hovered next to me. They all went silent.

“This is Prime, the virtual intelligence created by the Architects to aid humanity. He controls all eight stations and their essential and auxiliary systems, including the weaponry, life support, and the fleet. He will teach us how to use this gift to its fullest potential. Prime had stored thousands of years of knowledge about technology and the history of all the people he had encountered well before he arrived on Earth. He’s the closest alien ally we have against the quartz and the ones waiting behind our solar system’s borders.”

I turned to look at President Zhao. “As for my inexperience, thousands of years of alien knowledge was implanted in my brain when they chose me. It’s all here, just waiting to be unlocked.” Suppose I could stop the migraine and the nosebleeds. “Although having several scientists I can work alongside will keep me less busy.”

President Borodin pointed at Prime One. “You follow the orders of a robot?”

“Incorrect, President Borodin,” Prime One interjected, surprising the others that he could speak. “The code given to me by the Architects is to follow the commands of the current forerunner, Anton Segerstrom. I am unconditionally committed to all his directives, a loyal servant to him and the rest of humanity.”

“And why him?” Zhao asked.

Prime One paused. He looked like he was thinking, which unnerved the others. “Because Forerunner Segerstrom is the right organic for the job. I have studied humanity for thousands of years, waiting for this moment. He passed all the Architect’s tests by near-perfect synchronization—The only human who can.”

Borodin scoffed. “We are leaders of our respective nations. Instead of communicating with us, you hand a nuke to a random man on the street? Some of us might have passed your maker’s test.”

“I have scanned all of you. You are all unworthy. You have failed.”

I could tell Prime One’s words dug deep based on their reactions. I stepped forward, hoping their bruised pride and ego wouldn’t worsen things. But it’s probably too late. “Which means I just can’t hand it over that easily. This technology is bound to me. The technology is me,” I said.

They all looked over at their staff behind the camera, whispering in mute while discussing what Prime One had just told them.

After a few minutes, Zhao unmuted himself and asked, “What do you want in exchange for this tech? Money?” He probably believed this was all bullshit and the robot was fake.

“I have plenty of resources, President Zhao, including gold that surpasses the world’s total reserve a thousand times over.” They paused, probably thinking I was lying. “And I have many more where that comes from. As I’ve told you, this tech is stuck with me.”

“What gives you the right?” Borodin asked.

“You heard it yourself from the robot’s mouth. The Architects designed a unique selection process in that only one individual can control their tech—what they called a forerunner. I passed their tests, and they selected me as the Forerunner of Earth. I am the official representative of our planet to the galactic community.”

“For what purpose?” The U.K.’s Prime Minister Natalie Chabert asked. She was a short woman with pixie blonde hair, wearing a blue ruffle-trimmed skirt suit.

“To protect Earth from the threats beyond.”

“And who are these threats?” Prime Minister Justin Walker of New Zealand asked. I should thank him in private for getting me to my point.

I nodded over to Prime One, and he sent out the Orion-22 sector list.

The Orion-22 Sector

Guruta (Class 4)

Choaxethai (Class 2)

Udreshan (Class 2)

Earth (Class 1)

“As you can see, the quartz is not on this list. These are the civilizations that own forerunner technology like myself. The higher the class, the more powerful you are. And take note that this is only for our local sector. There’s probably more powerful ones across the galaxy.”

“And you’ve talked to these civilizations?” Chabert asked.

I reckoned that honesty would extend some goodwill. “I have not. I am new, and they are probably watching us to see what we are capable of.”

“For what purpose?” Walker asked.

“There’s supposed to be six in this sector. Two civilizations went extinct, and now four remain. I’ll let you interpret what that meant for us.”

Murmurs behind the screen rolled like a wave.

Chabert pursed her lips. “And you took this responsibility within two weeks? Did you have time to sleep it over?”

Not when my life was on the line. “Yes,” I answered curtly. “Two weeks is enough time to think it over, prime minister. Seventeen days since the aliens’ arrival, actually.”

“We did not agree to any conditions for you to represent us, boy,” Zhao said, interrupting her.

I took a step forward. “Like it or not, you are all stuck with me. I have no choice but to perform my new duty of protecting our planet, and I have done so for almost three weeks.” Thank you very much.

“And this galactic community you speak of. How many have you met? Spoken with?”

“We’ve met one of them and are currently at war with them.” I pointed to Prime One. “And also, we’re friends with one.”

“He’s a child!” Howell finally spoke up again but addressed Prime One more than me. “I mean, look at him! If you have studied human biology, he is too young to know what he is doing and way over his head. He has barely finished his education with average grades including high school, a mere cadet under the ROTC program—barely a soldier—and has no experience as a leader.”

“Anton Segerstrom has served for seven years as a Marine, President Howell, and led a platoon for two years,” Prime One corrected.

It did not deter the president. “This boy is not fit to be humanity’s representative. If you have truly studied our culture, no human in their right mind will respect his authority or take him seriously! Does anyone on this call truly see this boy fit to lead all of us?”

I curled my fist. I wanted to drop the courteous display and lay down the filthiest words on his head, and if it were possible to jump through the screen, I would. I breathed through my nose, trying to calm myself down.

Prime One spoke, “Yes, he is. I have scanned you again, President Howell and my previous judgment remains. You are still deficient in wielding the Architect’s technology.”

I stifled my smile as President Howell’s shoulders slumped from the apparent insult. If only I could give him a salve for that burn. The spheres had scanned them when it arrived and probably scared them shitless, but it never chose them like millions of the others.

How did you scan him again? I asked Prime in my head. The spheres are all here.

Prime took a beat to answer. I have not. It is sarcasm.

I didn’t think Prime understood sarcasm, but I let him have it.

This time, Howell turned to me. “And you think you can fight for us? Lead us?”

“I am, and I will.”

President Howell clasped his hands together. “I understand now that you can’t hand over the technology as easily as we’d hope. I have been too hasty with my judgment of you, Mr. Segerstrom, and for that, I apologize.”

“I accept your apology, Mr. President.”

“Since this robot is bound to you, maybe we can work together.”

That’s what I’ve been trying to say for the past two weeks, you dumb goof. “I would like that.”

“I can offer you a position within the government, your own department, agency, or anything you like and need—” The other leaders began to protest. They didn’t like that it would remain in American hands and President Howell would have more control.

But I cut them off. “Actually, Mr. President, I wanted to lead an independent institution,” I said. “Creating a new department under the US government will obligate me to answer to you. Make no mistake; I intend to help everyone—not just Americans. What you offer would only make me a glorified trigger, and I have no intention of becoming one.”

“And you don’t think this is foolish on your part?” Howell seethed. “Where’s your loyalty to your country, Marine? So far, I have not seen it in the past few weeks.”

“Just because I am an American doesn’t mean you automatically have privileges to what I technically own. Come to think of it, in the second amendment, shouldn’t I have the right to bear arms?”

“Not when it could kill millions of people. To compare a space station with lasers to a fucking pistol—”

I sighed. “You’re right. I wasn’t being fair, but my decision still stands.”

Brows furrowed, Howell slammed his fist on the desk. “I should have you arrested for sedition and treason, soldier! Do you know the penalty for that, Mr. Segerstrom? Death. Life imprisonment if you want me to be kind. I could have your citizenship revoked! Your family, your friends, and their families included. Did you not think of that since we last spoke?”

“You’re more than free to do so, President Howell. They have another country waiting to welcome them.”

“Are you really without honor that you would cast aside the country who have done everything to protect you? One that gave you freedom and an education? One that you served dedicatedly and defended? This is your chance to prove your worth, Marine!”

“I joined because I was desperate,” I seethed. “Because the country which bore me decided I was too poor to have an education. The only way I could get one was to slave through menial underpaid jobs or lay my life in a war I was too young to remember just so I could become a doctor, a lawyer, or have a better life like everyone else. I think I’ve proven enough. Several years of it, in fact.”

“Have you no shame to the soldiers you trained with? What will they think of you now?”

“You’ve called them barely a soldier a few minutes ago, Mr. President.” I noticed that Freddie, Seth, and Ryan weren’t pleased with his remark. “I doubt they’d take kindly to that. Anyway, the forerunner tech is safer with me in an independent capacity. If I distribute it to the rest of you, what if a second Cold War happens? Hm? Another arms race? What progress will we see then if we don’t put aside our differences when our real enemy is at the gates?”

“It’s politics, boy, a game not meant for you,” Zhao said. “You’d know these things if you have any experiences or are old enough to live a life.”

Ouch. I couldn’t let that slide. “Well, President Zhao, I know I’m young, and sure, having someone tell me what to do certainly removes the burden of responsibility that got dumped on me. But I won’t live in a hole for an easier life, waiting for your orders and throwing away my choices because the job inconvenienced me. I’m doing exactly what you told me earlier; growing up and taking responsibility.

They leaned back in stunned silence.

I added, “Well, I’m here now, and I’m fucking playing.”