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Prescott seem unfazed by this. He put his hands in his pockets and smiled warmly. "Well, you're safe here."

Imala cut to the chase. "We need to get an audience with Ukko Jukes. With his backing, we can make a legitimate warning to Earth. Can you make that happen?"

"Probably," said Prescott. "But first things first." He gestured to the conference table. "Won't you sit down?"

"You don't believe us, do you?" said Victor.

Prescott smiled. "We wouldn't have brought you here if we didn't think you might be telling the truth, Victor. We all believe you to some extent. But before any of us act, we want to be absolutely certain. There are people outside this room who will need a lot more convincing than us. If we work together, we might be able to win them over." He gestured again to the table, and this time Victor and Imala each took a seat.

Prescott sat at the head of the table. "You have to realize, people in our field are even more skeptical of claims of extraterrestrial life than normal people. We have to be. Scientists are bred to doubt and question everything. Plus the prevailing belief has always been that we would hear extraterrestrial life before we saw it. We'd pick up their transmissions long before they showed up on our scopes. But so far no one in the science community has heard anything."

"You can't hear anything," said Imala. "The interference is crippling communications."

"True," said Prescott. "But that makes the whole claim of extraterrestrial life all the more difficult to believe. Impaired communications strike a lot of people as enormously convenient to a charlatan trying to justify the sky's silence."

"I'm not a charlatan," said Victor.

"I'm not saying you are," said Prescott. "I'm telling you what the chatter is out there. Nobody wants to back you because it's a claim they can't independently validate. So they keep quiet and hope someone else will take the risk. No one wants to look like a fool supporting what might be the biggest hoax of the century."

"The biggest discovery of the century," Victor corrected. "Not to mention the biggest threat to our species."

Prescott settled back in his chair. "That's the question, isn't it? Yanyu has shown us a few observations she's made. We've all seen the vids you and Imala uploaded. We've combed through the evidence. We've argued about it for hours. Now we want to hear it straight from you. If we believe you, we'll make things happen. The floor is yours, Victor. Convince us."

Victor glanced at Imala, who gave him an encouraging nod. Then he looked at the faces of the people gathered around the table, all of them older than him and well educated and experts in their field. Most of their expressions were unreadable, but a few had a hard time hiding their skepticism.

He cleared his throat and began to speak.

For the first hour no one said a word. Then Yanyu would occasionally speak up, throwing in astronomical data that seemed to validate Victor's story.

When he finished, the questions came fast. How is this ship causing the interference? Where is the ship now? Has anyone attempted to communicate with it, not with radio but by other means? Infrared light perhaps? What are the ship's intentions?

"I don't know," Victor said for the tenth time. "I don't know where the ship is or what damage it's caused or what lives it's taken. I wish I did know. I wish I had answers. I wish I knew my family was safe."

The mention of his family pricked some well of emotion inside him, and for a moment, he thought he might lose his composure. He swallowed, took a breath, and buried the emotion. "I don't have the answers. I'm not a navigator. I know basic fight mechanics and trajectory mapping, but that wasn't my job on my ship. I'm a mechanic. I build things, fix things. My family sent me because I was young and healthy. I had the best chance of withstanding the physical beating the trip would inflict on my body.

"Plus I could repair the quickship if anything went wrong. No one on board had that level of mechanical expertise. It had to be me. I know you'd rather have someone who understands science as much as you do, but I'm not that person. I'm the messenger." He paused and looked at each of the researchers in turn. "The ship is real and it's coming. A few days, a few months, I don't know. But it's coming. If we could talk to the ships in the Belt, we'd have thousands of people validating my claim. But since we don't, I recognize that it makes my story all the less believable. But ask yourself, do I look like I could orchestrate all this evidence? Do I seem like the kind of person who would invent all this for laughs? Do I seem like someone who could create vids and mountains of evidence that could withstand this level of scrutiny? I'm a free miner. We're scraping by out there, flying by the seat of our pants, and sometimes barely putting food in front of us. I'm not looking for money. I have nothing to gain here but saving lives. If you think you can shoot holes in my story, give it your best shot. But I promise you you'll fail. Every word I've said is true."

The room was silent. Everyone watched him. Imala found Victor's hand under the table and gave it a squeeze of encouragement. Finally Prescott leaned forward and put a hand on Victor's shoulder. "We believe you, Victor. Some needed a little extra convincing, yes, but I think I speak for everyone when I say we're behind you. We'll help you as much as we can."

Victor felt such a rush of relief that he almost broke down again. It was going to work. The word would get out. He exhaled and grinned at Prescott. "Thank you."

"No, thank you, Victor. All of Earth owes you a debt of gratitude."

"This isn't going to be easy," said Imala. "I don't mean to dampen the mood here, but let's not forget that the media has already dismissed this idea. We've already been labeled phonies in some circles. I've been fighting this battle for a while now and losing. If you're with us, you need to be with us not only now, in the safety of this room, but also outside as well, where the rest of the world stands ready to mock and scorn. My career is likely over. Yours may be as well if you do this. I'm not trying to convince you to abandon us, I'm simply making sure you understand what we're up against."

"Your point's well made," said Prescott. "I can only safely speak for myself, Imala, but I assure you I'm with you."

"Me too," said Yanyu.

The others in the room nodded.

"Then what do we do?" asked Imala.

"Two things," said Prescott. "We continue validating Victor's story by searching the sky and getting all of our friends in the field doing the same. We do a full-court press on that. Secondly, and more immediately, I'll make some calls. Getting an audience with Mr. Jukes isn't easy. He has an army of people who resolve issues for him and deflect people like us. But considering the circumstances, I think we can break through."

*

They didn't break through. Not immediately anyway. They were told that Ukko Jukes was otherwise occupied and inaccessible.


Tags: Orson Scott Card The First Formic War Science Fiction