Earth, Reset

Earth, Reset

By Harry Wastrack

Prelude

Richard Nixon was lucky.

Sir?  Nixon?  Lucky?  Presidential aide Terrance Powers was puzzled.

Yeah, President Timothy Baylor continued as he prepared himself mentally for an address to be broadcast to the American people, he never had to give that speech.

I’m sorry, Mr. President, but what speech was that?

The one that was prepared in case the unthinkable happened and the astronauts weren’t able to return to Earth after the first moon landing, said Baylor.  Did you know that there was only a one in three chance of success? But they managed to pull it off and Nixon never had to give the speech.  Eisenhower prepared a speech, too, in case the D-Day Invasion had failed. But he didn’t have to give it, either.

Sir, said Powers, neither do you.  What’s going to happen is going to happen whether you face the cameras or not, and there are no long-term consequences for you if you don’t.  In fact, I would venture to guess that probably half the people out there would rather not know what’s coming.

That thought has occurred to me, said the President, and it would certainly be easier that way.  But I think I owe it to them.  In their shoes, I’d want to know just to give me the chance to tie up a few loose ends.

Of course, it’s your call, said Powers as he noted the nod from the television producer.  They’re ready for you.

The President took a deep breath and entered the room where the cameras had been set up and took his seat behind the desk.

The Plan

Six months earlier…

Gregory Greg Stockman was a handsome, charismatic, and energetic young presidential candidate whose innate enthusiasm could light up an auditorium the moment he took the stage.  A military hero, he first came to public attention when, at not quite twenty-nine years of age, he led a commando raid that took out a terrorist cell and rescued the busload of school children they were holding hostage.  The following year, party elders persuaded him to give up military life and make a run for a Congressional seat against an incumbent they saw as vulnerable.  People were immediately receptive to the idea of voting for Stockman, someone they already respected, not someone mired in the same old Washington politics and scandals like their current representative.  He won the election and took office as the second youngest member of the House of Representatives.

After assuming office, Congressman Greg Stockman and his photogenic young wife, Linda, took the Washington scene by storm.  Whenever and wherever they made an appearance seemed to be chronicled in the social pages and on magazine covers.  Cynics, much to Greg’s and Linda’s annoyance, labeled them the Ken and Barbie dolls of politics.  However, publicity was still publicity and it gave Stockman serious name recognition. On those occasions when he was called upon to appear on the Sunday morning talk shows he invariably acquitted himself well, so when a Senate seat came open four years later he ran for that office and again won.

Eventually the Presidency beckoned for his party’s rising star.  The fawning media had already made Stockman’s a familiar face and, depending on one’s political leanings, his service in Congress was rated as above average to Kennedyesque.  When considering whether to throw his hat into an already crowded ring, Stockman was at first hesitant because of his wife’s health scare.  Linda Stockman had given birth to two daughters, Hayley and Bridgette.  The first pregnancy, with Hayley, went well, as did the second three years later, with Bridgette.  However, Linda never seemed to completely recover her strength and energy the second time.  For almost eight years it seemed like she had to deal with one illness or health condition after another, including a rare near fatal adverse drug reaction.  The biggest blow came when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.  The surgery, along with the chemo and radiation therapies, took their toll, but appeared to work.  Linda had regained strength and seemed on the way to being her old self again.  She pushed Greg to run.  He did, and she was always there with him, right up to the convention when he accepted the nomination.

It was only after he had been anointed as his party’s candidate that Linda would tell Greg that the cancer had returned.  She insisted that he continue, while she withered away.  The popular military hero with two young daughters and a dying wife made for compelling political drama.  Linda’s last public appearance was the night of the election.  The heavy makeup could not conceal how emaciated she had become, but her victory smile was effervescent nonetheless.  She died on the first of December.  Hayley and Bridgette, at ages twelve and nine respectively, held the Bible while Greg was sworn in the following January.  His was a competent, if subdued Presidency.  Though the polls showed that he would have handily won, he chose not to run for reelection, saying that he had already given almost everything he had and that what was left he owed to his daughters.

It came as a huge surprise to everyone, but probably no one more so than General Timothy Baylor himself that he was Stockman’s choice to be his Presidential successor.  Baylor had been the commanding general who green-lighted the commando raid that first brought Stockman into the public eye.  At every opportunity, when asked about the raid, Stockman redirected praise toward the much decorated Baylor for his savvy and steely-eyed decisiveness.  As President, Stockman nominated Baylor to be Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, ahead of a half dozen general officers senior to him.

Still, despite his experience and prominence, Baylor seemed a peculiar choice to run for the White House. While as a senior military official he was compelled at times to trudge through the muck of Washington politics, he had never run for public office before and considered himself to be strictly a soldier.  While Greg Stockman thrived in the political arena, Tim Baylor seemed to loathe it.  Their differences were most evident, one observer commented, if you just watched what happened when each man entered a room for the first time.  Whenever Stockman appeared, a sudden new energy quickly spread as he immediately began to shake hands. Baylor, by contrast, commanded a room, as even people who had never been in the military snapped to attention.  It was also commented that even though both men were the same height, six foot one, Baylor’s rigid military bearing made him appear an inch or two taller.  To make matters worse, Baylor was blunt-spoken and did not suffer fools gladly, which tended to alienate more than a few media personalities who dared ask lame questions.  Also, it just seemed odd that Greg Stockman, one of the youngest Presidents, would push for Baylor, who would be one of the oldest.

It took a monumental degree of arm-twisting on Stockman’s part to get Baylor to even consider becoming a candidate.  Stockman subsequently pushed hard for Baylor’s nomination.  It was rumored that Stockman called in dozens of political favors and had even threatened to expose embarrassing information about some of the other potential candidates in order to get Baylor nominated.  After Baylor secured the nomination, Stockman campaigned for him, as one prominent political observer put it, as if his own life depended on it.  Baylor won in a squeaker that was not called in his favor until four o’clock the morning after Election Day.

*****

Ordinarily, one would expect it would be the new President-elect who called the shots, but for almost three months he was still just a general, though now officially retired.  Nonetheless, when the current President basically summoned him for a top secret meeting just days after the election, in of all places Las Vegas, he came.  The press and the public at large were led to believe that President Stockman was at Camp David and that President-elect Baylor was taking a breather at home in Tennessee.  The meeting took place in the penthouse of Ceasar’s Palace.  Though it was called the Presidential Suite, Baylor wondered, would this be the first time one President, say nothing of two, actually occupied it?

In a clandestine manner reminiscent of Howard Hughes, Baylor was spirited in through a restricted parking garage and then up a back elevator, unknown to most people, that was probably normally used for another type of discreet liaison.  The Secret Service agent who accompanied Baylor remained behind at the elevator as Baylor proceeded into the building’s elaborately appointed top floor.  At first it appeared to Baylor that he was alone, until he glanced to one side and spotted President Greg Stockman standing behind the bar.  There was no one else present, not even some ubiquitous aide to take notes.

Okay, Baylor said, I’m here.

Yeah, you are, Stockman replied.  Congratulations on your victory.

Is that why you called me here, for a victory party in Vegas?

I wish it was.  Can I pour you a drink?

Baylor shook his head.  No, it’s a little early for me.

Fair enough, maybe later.  Stockman stepped from behind the bar, his own drink in hand.  He motioned for Baylor to take a seat in one of the suite’s luxurious chairs. So, what do you think of the weather?

Now we’re making small talk about the weather? asked Baylor, shaking his head a bit impatiently.

No, we’re not, replied Stockman in a tone Baylor thought surprisingly serious.  This is not small talk. Please answer the question.  What do you think of the weather?

A bit perplexed, Baylor replied, It’s a little hot, I guess, but it is, after all, Las Vegas,

That’s not what I meant, said Stockman.  I mean the weather nationally.  What do you think about the weather the country as a whole has been hit with lately?

Baylor shrugged.  It could be better.  Back home in Tennessee, it’s been dry.  There’s been flooding in Colorado and rain and mudslides along the coast in California.  I read somewhere that Alaska is going through a heat wave, for Alaska, that is.

Do you think the so-called climate change has anything to do with all that?

Baylor rolled his eyes.  I don’t think so.  I’m pretty much of the school that the Earth runs through climate cycles every few hundred years or so.  We’re just in the middle of a warmer part of the cycle.  Man may have caused some damage, but I have doubts that he is to blame for receding glaciers, for instance.

A lot of people firmly believe otherwise, said Stockman.

I know.

What if I told you that neither side in the argument is entirely right? asked Stockman.

What do you mean?  What’s this all about?

Stockman began pacing as he spoke, an idiosyncrasy with which Baylor was familiar.  It usually meant that Stockman was grasping for a diplomatic way to say something.  General, four years ago about this time I was briefed.  I mean, I got the ultra-secret security briefing that new Presidents get when they’re about to take office.  When he got his, President Truman first learned about the atomic bomb.  When I got mine, I was told about a completely unnerving terrorist threat and the covert operation that was already underway to stop it.  Thank God it worked!

Baylor nodded.  Yeah, I know.  I was there.

I know you were.  Ordinarily you wouldn’t even need the briefing because you’re already in the loop on such matters, Stockman paused, all except one.  That’s why you and I are here, so that I can brief you on something that the usual President’s briefers don’t know about, that I wish I didn’t know about.  It’s the reason I campaigned so hard to get you elected.  There will be decisions to be made and we need someone decisive and with a sense of duty, like you, who doesn’t have to first run everything through a gauntlet of pollsters and political advisors.

Good God, man, what are you talking about?

Stockman reached for a nearby telephone and spoke into the receiver.  Send in Dr. Orbison.

The familiar scientist and scholar entered the room through another door.  Dr. Grant Orbison was probably the most well-known scientist in the world.  A Nobel Prize winner for pioneering research he had done for NASA, he was a frequent guest on the talk show circuit, often to pitch yet another of his best-selling books.  His celebrity aside, Orbison still garnered much respect among those both inside and outside the scientific community and was one of a very few people who could call the President on short notice and arrange a face to face meeting.

General, in case you’ve never had the occasion to actually meet him, this is Dr. Grant Orbison.

Baylor stood and shook hands with the scientist.

Stockman continued.  I met with Dr. Orbison two years ago, in similarly secretive fashion, as it happens in this same hotel.

You did? Baylor said.

Yes, Stockman went on, it was a meeting that I will never forget.  He stopped pacing and situated himself on one of the barstools.  He nodded to Dr. Orbison, who stepped over to a coffee table upon which a laptop computer had been set.  When he switched the computer on, the wide-screen television that dominated the room also came on.  The first image to appear was a generic looking slide that simply displayed the words Solar Harmonics Briefing.

What’s all this? asked Baylor.

Dr. Orbison has been doing research in a new science called solar harmonics, Stockman explained.  Apparently our ‘climate change’ has had more to do with our sun than anything else.  For the past two years, using this new science, Dr. Orbison has been able to make predictions about global weather patterns that have been unnervingly accurate.

Okay, said Baylor, I sense you’re getting to something bigger.

Yeah, I am, said Stockman.  Dr. Orbison.

Dr. Orbison took a seat at the computer and initiated a program that displayed both slides and video on the television screen.  The program began with what Baylor recognized to be video of the sun.  Our sun is what is called a main-sequence star.  For the past few billion years it has been doing its job providing radiant energy to our solar system, including the Earth, with the occasional sun spot or solar flare to throw our weather a little off kilter and disrupt television broadcasts and cell phone service.  The video included a shot of a solar flare whipping out from the sun’s surface.  Two years ago, by applying the principles of solar harmonics, I was first able to observe certain changes in the sun.  The video switched to something unrecognizable, like a grainy photographic negative.

Now what am I looking at? Baylor asked.

This is the harmonic view, replied Dr. Orbison.  You could say that it’s an ultrasound of the sun.

Okay, continue, said Baylor blankly.

Using this new technology, Dr. Orbison went on, I’ve been able to examine the interior structure of the sun and monitor its rate of deterioration.  Thus I’ve been able to predict where and when certain flaws, shall we call them, would appear as surface solar activity, which in turn has caused the Earth’s climate change.

There was a pause, as if Stockman and Dr. Orbison were looking for a sign that Baylor was grasping what was being said.  Baylor looked back at them, expecting more.  Meaning?

Meaning, the sun itself is undergoing a drastic change, Dr. Orbison continued.  Astrophysicists like me have long expected the sun to continue in its main-sequence state for millions, if not billions more years, but that has always been pretty much a guess based on observations of other stars.

Are you saying, asked Baylor, that what has long been taught in science classes is wrong?

No, what we were all taught was incomplete, replied Dr. Orbison.  We’ve always extrapolated that a main-sequence star like our sun has an average lifespan of two to three billion years or more.  Of course, no one has been around two to three billion years to confirm that, and even so we are still talking about an average.  Dr. Orbison paused.

Make your point, said Baylor

Dr. Orbison nodded.  Okay, let’s use human beings as an example.  Today, the typical human male can expect to live about eighty-five years.  But we know that a number of people live past the age of a hundred.  To get the average of eighty-five, that means there are going to be some seemingly healthy people who die younger, say in their late thirties, of an undiagnosed heart defect or brain aneurysm.

…and our sun…?  Baylor’s voice trailed off.

…will soon collapse, said President Stockman, getting right to the point.  You’re going to have a rather abbreviated Presidency.

In six months’ time, said Dr. Orbison, I predict that one specific weak spot on the sun’s surface will give way and the resulting solar flare will likely engulf the Earth and suddenly and completely incinerate it.  In fact, it is entirely possible that at that point the sun will simply go nova.

Baylor was at first silent, as if replaying the tape of what Dr. Orbison had just said.  My God!  Are you sure?

There is a very high degree of certainty, said Dr. Orbison.  I can go into more technical detail if you wish.

I’ve had it independently checked, confirmed, and reconfirmed by every expert I thought I could trust, added Stockman.  Everyone says the science is solid.  Everyone says the findings are solid.

I stake my entire reputation on this, said Dr. Orbison.  Prior to the application of solar harmonics, sun spots and solar flares could be observed as they happened and any predictions we made were essentially guesses based on past solar activity.  Now we can tell with relative certainty when such things will happen.  If ever in my life I’ve been sure of anything, this is it.

Baylor sat silently shaking his head.

If I could have, I would have given you a few more days to enjoy your election victory, said Stockman, but I know you and, as the new President, I figured you’d want the data dump as soon as possible.  And I’m just glad that it’s you who is being briefed and not that incompetent imbecile who almost defeated you.

After a few moments digesting what he had been told, Baylor tilted his head.  Wait a minute. Something’s missing here.  You said you’ve known about this for two years, but global warming and climate change have been issues for at least the past twenty years.  Why didn’t we hear about this sooner?

Because we did not have the instrumentation sensitive enough to detect it, said Dr. Orbison as he gestured toward the video on the television screen.  Solar harmonics is a new science… to us.

Baylor blankly stared in no direction in particular, then turned back.  What does that mean, ‘new to us’?

Dr. Orbison looked to Stockman, who nodded and reached for the phone again.  Send him in.

Baylor looked quizzically at both men.  What?

Through the same door from which Dr. Orbison emerged stepped another figure, this one wearing a broad hat, sunglasses, and a long coat inappropriate for the Las Vegas weather.  Bewildered, Baylor watched as the figure removed the coat, glasses, and hat.  Standing before him was a six-foot-tall man with strikingly luminescent white hair, pale golden skin, light green eyes, and distinctively pointed ears.  If they were remaking Lord of the Rings, he would have been sent from Central Casting to play an elf.

Baylor recoiled.  Is this a joke!  So what, there’s a Star Trek convention in town?

This is no joke, said the man with white hair in an oddly accented baritone voice, and I am not Mr. Spock.

Dr. Orbison did the introductions.  General Baylor, this is Elo of the Looran.  It was he who contacted me two years ago to tell me what was happening to our sun.

The Looran are a race of beings from another world that has been monitoring Earth, Stockman added.

Are you serious? asked Baylor.

Deadly serious, Stockman replied.  If you want, you can get the whole Area 51 briefing, but I don’t think there’s really any point.

If you please, Elo stepped forward to address Baylor.  The Looran have been observing the people of your planet for over one hundred of your years, since we first detected your broadcast signals.  We have been studying and monitoring you in anticipation of the appropriate time to initiate contact.  That time might not have come for perhaps another hundred years were it not for the issue of your sun.

Baylor could not take his eyes off of the strange man.  As Elo spoke, Baylor circled him, curiously looking him up and down.  You’re real aren’t you?  Are you behind all the alien abductions?

No, said Elo, the Looran have observed from a distance, but we have never actually visited Earth until we first contacted Dr. Orbison.  There are others who have on occasion removed and examined inhabitants of your planet.  The Looran were not the only ‘alien species’ to hear your broadcasts.

So he’s real, said Stockman. He’s an alien, an extraterrestrial, not of this world, whatever you want to call it.  Can we get past that?

Okay, said Baylor, still skeptical, fill me in.

Dr. Orbison again took the lead.  "As we said, it all began about two years ago.  Elo appeared at my office at Cal Tech one night.  My reaction was pretty much the same as your’s, that a few of my grad students were pulling a prank.  However, Elo said a few things that caused me to at least give him a serious hearing.  He explained the