Birds of a Feather

by Bill Bowler

part 2 of 3

“Hello, Senator, nice to see you again.”

The valet helped the Senator out of the car. The Senator slipped him twenty, climbed the steps and entered the palatial lobby of the casino hotel. A bellhop sprang towards him,

“Hello, sir, nice to see you again. Can I take that for you?”

The Senator handed him his light shoulder bag. It was all he was carrying.

“I’ll take it to your usual room, sir, the suite on 56.”

The Senator nodded vaguely, tipped the man, and strode through the swinging glass doors to the foyer where the glittering rows of slot machines stood waiting. The handles of most were already in the sweaty grip of glassy eyed gamblers just one pull away from easy money and instant riches. Idiots, thought Steele.

The Senator crossed the room and took the elevator to three, to the private room with the high stakes machines, the ones that take hundred-dollar bills. There was less frenzy there, less chaos. He went to his favorite machine, a Bally Bell Fruit model, took out a wad of crisp, fresh hundreds, paused for concentration, and slid one in.

As he grasped the handle, he felt the bond. The machine was receptive to his will. Doubt and uncertainty melted away as he felt the oneness, the potential for control. Success or failure was up to him, not it. He knew, as surely as he knew his own self, that if he remained calm and focused, if he gently and steadily and purposefully, without hesitation or doubt, without fear, if he just pulled the handle slowly down and held the mental picture of three cracked Liberty Bells lined up in his mind’s eye...

“Hi, honey, how ya doin’?”

The Senator caught the sweet fragrance of perfume mixed with the earthy scent of a familiar body. He glanced over his shoulder. It was Charlene, a showgirl he knew well.

“You wan’ me to come back later?” She seemed drunk.

“Yeah, babe, a little later.”

The Omegan trade proposal for open borders was vigorously debated. There were concerns on the part of the U.S. military regarding the wisdom of exporting militarily sensitive materials to a foreign planet. Senator Steele led the pro-trade fight in the Senate.

“I support this proposal,” Senator Steele told his colleagues in a televised address, “I support the ‘galaxization’ of free trade because of my devotion to the cause of freedom, and because of my faith and trust in the ‘guiding hand’ of healthy competition and my unwavering belief in the fundamental equity and efficiency of the Free Market...”

The bill granting “most favored planets” status to Omega passed in a close vote. The treaty was drawn up, the President signed, and open trade relations with Omega were made national policy. Highly advanced electronic and robotic manufactured consumer goods, primarily for use in recreation and entertainment, became readily available at retail outlets. At the same time, thanks to the lucrative export of molybdenum to Omega, the value of Senator Steele’s stake in Amalgamated Mining appreciated 500% in the course of three months.

A year and a half after the signing of the treaty with Omega, a furor was raised when it was discovered that the Omegans had quietly established sub-surface molybdenum mining operations on the dark side of the Moon. The Russians had discovered molybdenite in Mare Crisium 150 years earlier, but no efforts had been made to mine it in quantity due to the expense and logistical challenges. Now that the Omegans had taken the initiative, Amalgamated Mining, with Senator Steele’s support, hastened to incorporate the Omegan lunar mining interests and form a joint U.S-Lunar cartel to regulate production and prices.

But controversy over the Omegan lunar mine raged. Opposition committee members called for hearings and the empanelling of an investigative commission. The Attorney General argued that the Omegan mine was a potential violation of inter-planetary law. The State Department expressed concern that the establishment of the Omegan mine was contrary to long held doctrine since the Moon remained within Earth’s “sphere of influence.”

The Secretary of State called for a moratorium on all lunar mining operations until bilateral negotiations could be held and settlement of the issues reached. The Pentagon urged caution and vigilance, as the Moon possessed vital military significance as the most advantageous point from which to launch an attack on the home planet. There was a backlash among rank and file voters and the controversy over the Omegan lunar mine continued to grow.

The Omegans insisted that the mine was strictly for non-military, peaceful purposes. At the urging of the Omegan Ambassador, the U.S. government dispatched an official delegation, headed by Senator Steele, to the lunar mine facility to inspect and observe the operation and report back to the President and Congress.

The Senator and his entourage were transported to the Moon without delay in an American diplomatic spacecraft. The entire twenty square mile surface of the mining facility was contained within a transparent “bubble” which came into view as they descended in the landing module to the lunar surface.

Once on the ground, the Senator was greeted personally by the Omegan Ambassador, and the Terran delegation was escorted inside the facility to conduct its inspection tour. The Terrans were able to remove their spacesuits and move comfortably about the grounds as the transparent bubble contained an artificial oxygen atmosphere generated for the benefit of the two hundred or so Omegan humanoid laborers employed at the mine.

The Senator saw, for the first time, a number of Omegan humanoids engaged in menial tasks such as removal of robot waste products.

“You must remember,” the Ambassador explained to Steele, “that despite the superficial similarity, Omegan bipeds are substantially less evolved than homo sapiens. The highest recorded biped IQ is about 40. They are completely dependent on us and remain in need of constant close supervision. As you see, they are capable of performing only the simplest and least demanding tasks.”

Not that he doubted the Ambassador, but Steele wished to speak to one of the Omegan humanoids. The Ambassador agreed without hesitation and offered to translate. They approached a hairy fellow who was carrying a container of vile smelling waste lubricant just drained from the hydraulic system of an automatic drilling unit, which had undergone periodic maintenance.

The biped, a stooped, shaggy individual, gazed at Steele with dull, uncomprehending eyes.

With the Ambassador translating, Steele asked the biped, “What is your name?”

No response.

“What-is-your-name?”

Nothing.

“Do you understand me? Can you speak?”

The biped stared blankly, eyes glazed over, a look of stupor on the coarse, unthinking features of his face. Steele gave up the attempt at communication as hopeless, thanked the Ambassador for trying, and resumed the inspection tour as the biped picked up the waste container and shambled off.

On their way to the central mine shaft, they passed through the mess hall, where the Omegan bipeds took their meals. Steele noticed a bug on the wall and reflexively brushed it off. It hit the ground, and then crawled onto his shoe and started up his pants leg.

He could see now that it was not a bug but a tiny robot, segmented, with six delicate jointed legs, perfectly designed for climbing vertical walls or upside down across ceilings, though for what reason, he could not imagine. He looked questioningly at the Ambassador.

“Self-adjusting auto-manufacture, given enough time, results in modification and adaptation of units and components unforeseen by the original designers. These are fine cleaning units which operate collectively and scavenge minute debris.”

Steele brushed the little machine off his leg and they proceeded to the kitchen area of the biped mess hall. Steele’s group looked briefly at the food preparation process, though this was only a cursory walk-through. The main point of their inspection tour was the molybdenum mining operation itself and not the conditions of the auxiliary support staff.

Steele did observe, at one point, a clear liquid substance being introduced into the Omegan humanoids’ food. Without consulting his hosts, on impulse, he took a sample of the substance for analysis.

Not all parties on Earth agreed with the diplomatic approach to the question of the legitimacy of the Omegan lunar mine. The radical militant Anarchists who, before the arrival, had been locked for decades in protracted low intensity armed conflict with U.S. and allied forces throughout much of Central Asia, considered the Omegan lunar mine an act of war.

The Anarchist spokesman, a shadowy figure known as Moab, whom the CIA had relentlessly pursued for twenty years, released a crude video to the Asian TV networks days after the disclosure of the Omegan lunar mine.

From an undisclosed location, seated in an open tent near the entrance to a cave, Moab the Anarchist spoke. His words, roughly translated, were as follows:

“The alien devils must not be permitted to occupy Earth’s moon. This infernal mine is a direct provocation. It is a slap in the face and a direct threat to the peoples of Earth. We can only express our disgust at the cowardly appeasement and capitulation of the Americans and their puppets and henchmen. We are warning these aliens now. Leave our Moon and return whence you came, or the blood of innocents will be on your hands...”

Moab and his inner circle decided to take things into their own hands before it was too late. They decided on a desperate plan: to send a team of suicide bombers to destroy the lunar facility.

The suicide team, provided with high quality fake documents, infiltrated the Steele mission as support crew of the landing module. When the official delegation had disembarked and conducted the first hour of the inspection tour, the suicide squad operation commenced.

When the attack on the mine was launched, Senator Steele and the Omegan Ambassador were standing together at the entrance to the main shaft, a deep tunnel with continuous lines of self-propelled robot mining units rolling down tracks, disappearing into the tunnel depths and re-emerging with full loads of crystal molybdenite.

They heard shooting and some distant commotion as the suicide bombers breached the main gate, firing shoulder launched anti-armor laser cannons and rocket propelled photon shells. A round struck an Omegan robot security guard and destroyed it on impact leaving a mangled wreck of smoking metal. A band of static rippled across the Ambassador’s facial screen and he staggered.

“What’s wrong?” asked Senator Steele.

“One of our units has just gone off line. Give me a moment to adjust.” The Ambassador regained system equilibrium and explained quickly, “You see, Senator, all Omegan units are networked. Our primary circuit boards transmit and receive a minute magnetic wave impulse, which continuously passes from one unit to another, even at rather significant distance. When one unit is damaged or disabled, there is a small decrease in the shared magnetic field which all remaining units register as a loss and results in temporary instability until...”

The Ambassador broke off in mid sentence. Three masked men appeared around the corner of a warehouse, running at full speed. A fast-moving Omegan security unit was in pursuit. Under fire from the guard, one of the men pulled a high density proton grenade from a belt clip, pulled the pin, and threw it towards the tunnel entrance where the Ambassador and Senator were standing. The Senator screamed, “Nooooo!” but the roar of a massive explosion drowned out his cry and the world went black.

Senator Steele regained consciousness, lying on a low metal platform. An Omegan robot mobile support unit was at his side, monitoring his vital signs.

“Where am I?”

“In the maintenance section of our mother ship in orbit around the fifth planet of this system.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Two weeks. You were severely damaged in an explosion at our lunar mine. You were shipped here by Omegan service vehicle for emergency repair.”

“How is the Ambassador?”

“Hardly a scratch. He required only minor adjustment and calibration. But that’s enough questions for now.”

The robot rolled out of the room to tend to its duties. The Senator became aware of his parched throat and intense thirst and, with an effort, reached for a cup of water on a table beside the platform. He heard the faint hum of a small motor as his arm extended, a shiny, silvery, metallic arm with a hinged elbow and jointed hydraulic fingers.

The Senator threw off his covers and stared in astonishment at his body. His right arm and both legs were now made of substance DX-9. A fresh scar across his chest indicated he must also have undergone some kind of heart surgery. He learned later from the central supervising unit that he had suffered cardiac arrest. There had been irreversible neurological damage and the emergency repair team had been obliged to replace his failed heart with an automatic low-pressure fluid pump drive and to install in his skull an Omegan cranial circuit board and processor or he faced permanent disconnection.

Steele was incredulous. It was difficult to accept that all this had happened to him and not to some other person who deserved it more. But he was thankful to be alive and, after some weeks had passed, found that his new arm and legs, if anything, worked better than the original parts. He didn’t know about the cranial circuit board and the chest pump, but they seemed to be working fine and, in all honesty, he had to admit he had never felt better.

Omegan interrogators, using advanced and rigorous techniques, elicited intelligence from one of the bombers captured by security forces defending the mine. The bomber confessed the attack had been the work of Moab the Anarchist’s underground militant organization. Moab’s current location was disclosed and, most alarmingly, it was learned that more attacks were planned.

The Omegans went on high alert and prepared to retaliate in force. The Omegan Ambassador delivered a note of protest to the Secretary General of the United Nations. One hundred and fifty-six Omegan civilian units had suffered permanent disconnection in the unprovoked attack and millions of dollars in damage had been done to the mine. Citing the inalienable and inherent right to self-defense, Omegan military forces deployed in Earth orbit and prepared to invade.

Proceed to part 3...