10:30 pm Tuesday, 10th July 2029
Kennedy Space Center, Florida
After landing at Kennedy, Summers saw the three children and the neurological kit safely into the care of the nurses from the Mayo Clinic then went straight to the secure briefing room in the main building. A crew chief on the ground crew had told him the secretary of state was waiting for him there.
"I'm afraid your wife couldn't come," Phil Taylor told Summers after he'd locked the door. "She has a late press conference about the latest pandemic outbreaks in Mexico. We're considering closing the border."
Summers said he understood and asked the secretary of state to unlock the diplomatic pouch from his wrist.
"What's in it?" Phil asked.
"The details I need for my trip to Tampa tomorrow morning. Dr Jardine has written everything down. I hope you're okay to come with me. We might need to pull some strings."
"Yes, Jane said it must be important. I've arranged an official car. What's it about?"
"I'll get to that, but first I've plenty to tell you about what's been happening upstairs, and it's not a pleasant story."
#
Summers recounted the whole sequence of events from when Toby had first picked up odd bits of information from Jayal that belied the picture that Velan had painted about life on Vitu. He told Taylor about the monitoring collars and how Jayal had got the message across that the children were going to be euthanised and their brains sent to Vitu for analysis.
The secretary of state listened in grim silence as he related how the three Manitan had been killed.
Summers went on to explain that the main purpose of the delegation from Vitu had been to obtain the gene they had designated 'supernal'. They had needed to gain the trust and cooperation of the authorities on Earth to achieve their goal with the minimum difficulty, and their plan had almost worked.
But, now that it had failed, they were convinced that the Atikas would mount another attempt to capture autistic savant children from Earth. The supernal gene was an essential part of their continued survival. They would risk anything to get it.
"You think they'd try and invade the Earth?" the secretary of state asked incredulously.
"We don't know what they'd do, or what weapons and technology they really have. Their vessel is extremely advanced and it's 5,000 years old. There's no telling what capabilities they might have now."
"Jesus Christ! This is more serious than I thought. I take it you have some sort of solution in mind?"
The two men talked until the early hours, going over Toby's plan, and thrashing out alternative courses of action to be taken, dependent on its success or failure.
#
The research laboratory in Tampa began work at 9 am and the secretary of state's official car pulled up at the main entrance thirty minutes later. The government car caused quite a stir and Phil Taylor was instantly recognized when he walked into the reception area and asked to speak to the head of research. Summers tagged along behind with his NASA ID pinned to the dark blue business suit he kept in his locker at Kennedy.
Phil greeted the bewildered head of research effusively and said sorry for the unannounced visit but they needed a big favour. Could they talk privately? In a side room, Phil gave the man a concocted story about a problem with rats at the Kennedy Space Center. He described how the hangars had become infested. The rats were gnawing electrical cables and threatening the safety of the spacecraft housed inside, which had a direct impact on the Mars Project.
Everyone in the USA knew that the Mars colony was the secretary of state's pet project and he was involved in every aspect of its progress. It was quite plausible that he would take a personal interest in this problem, especially when he explained that the infestation was an embarrassment to NASA. They didn't want it leaked to the press and they need a quick effective solution.
"We need some of this," the secretary of state said, handing the man a piece of paper.
The head of research read from the paper.
"Hyperviruent mycoplasma pneumoniae bacterium in a saline solution? But this product hasn't been announced yet. The research paper is with the publisher now. It's not due to be published until next month. We haven't even decided on a trade name. How did you know about it?"
Phil Taylor tapped the side of his nose knowingly.
"The State Department knows everything," he smiled. "We even know how research grants are allocated."
The head of research took the hint. He pressed a buzzer.
"How much do you need?" he asked.
Phil glanced at Summers, who looked at Toby's written note.
"Three, one fluid-ounce plastic sample bottles," Summers recited.
The head of research relayed the details to his assistant, who arrived in answer to the buzzer, and then turned to Summers.
"Do you know how to use it? You know it's extremely toxic?" he asked.
"I think your research paper gives us all the information we need, thank you."
Taylor and Summers left the man puzzling over who could have leaked his research paper as they headed out of the building.
#
On the way back to the Kennedy Space Center, the secretary of state told his driver to drop them off near a roadside restaurant, go find himself something to eat, and collect them in two hours. He handed the driver a fifty-dollar bill. The two men left their jackets and ties in the car and walked to the restaurant. Without his official car and suit jacket, Phil Taylor looked like any ordinary businessman. No one recognized him as he led Summers to a private booth.
Over lunch, Phil asked Summers if he'd thought any more about what they had discussed the night before.
"I agree that, for the good of the nation, all this must be kept secret, but are you sure there's no other way?"
"It's the only way," Phil assured him. "The world is in a bad enough state as it is with all these viral outbreaks. Our people have enough to cope with, without worrying about aliens and the implications of intelligent design. We need to get out of this hole first and then break the news to them gently to avoid the expected repercussions, and I know Jane agrees."
"With reluctance, I'll go along with your idea," he resolved, glancing around for possible listeners, "but I have to tell you. I don't like it."
They finished their meal in thoughtful silence until Phil asked if Summers would like a brandy to finish off.
"I think I'm in need of a double scotch ... neat," Summers replied.
#
Later that evening Summers clambered aboard a Cargo Dragon. The sample bottles of the bacterium were inside the lead-lined diplomatic pouch locked to his wrist. Toby had emphasized that they mustn't be exposed to the UVC light in the sanitation tunnel.
He also carried two eight-foot lengths of oxygen tubing wrapped in cellophane. They fitted snugly inside the passenger compartment of the Cargo Dragon.
At 8 pm exactly, the booster rocket ignited. Summers settled into his seat and tried to get some sleep.