Some problems have a way of resolving themselves after a good night of sleep. When I awoke in the morning, the corny line “Take me to your leader...” was running through my head. I realized that while an alien might have a problem with knowing who our leader is, I had no such excuse. All I had to do was ask Peter to set the ship down on the front lawn of the White House, and the rest would take care of itself. Maybe.

I rolled out of bed with considerably more energy than I’d felt in days, and dressed. If felt so good to put on clean clothes. I made sure to put on the best and most authoritative looking suit I had, and took extra care to be sure that nothing was out of place in my room. I intended to give a tour.

“Peter, I’ve decided what to do.” I said by way of greeting. “Is this ship equipped with armor, or any kind of protection against weaponry?”

“Your people have no weapon that can hurt this ship. I won’t allow weapons inside, so you have nothing to fear from your security forces.”

“Thanks. You’re very perceptive. Score another one for your programmers,” I replied.

“Have you decided what to do yet?” Peter asked.

“Yes, I have. I’m going to the White House. I think it’s best to announce my return in the most convincing manner possible. I’m going to play the game of “prove it isn’t a hoax”.

“That will make a nice beginning.”

“Is Sharon awake?” I asked.”

“Not yet. Would you like me to wake her?” Peter offered.

“Please do. I’ll be in the Nav room. Let her know we’ll be entertaining VIPs today.”

“I’ll be glad to,” he replied.

I  went to the Nav room and pulled up the navigation holo of Earth. After bit of trial and error I was able to locate Washington D.C. and zero in on the White House. I hesitated for a moment before lifting the ship from it’s current orbit and depositing it on the White House lawn. I wanted to move in slowly, so that plenty of eyes could see us, in case the government tried to lie about our visit.

“Peter, would it be possible to come in slowly, at subsonic speeds, and come down hovering over the city for a moment before gradually touching down? I want as many eyes to see us as possible.”

“I can do that. Do you want complete visibility, to all spectrum including radar?’ he asked.

“Keep us off radar and infrared. That alone will get the attention of the security forces that surround the White House.”

“I’ll be glad to. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes.” I set the ship icon down on the White House lawn and stepped back. Then I asked Peter to open the view ports.

The view area opened up, and I watched as we began to descend toward the earth’s atmosphere. I was so absorbed in the view that I didn’t realize Sharon had come in until I heard her say, “It’s so beautiful”.

“It is, “ I replied. “Did you sleep well?”

"Yes, thanks. Where are we going?”

“Our first stop is the White House. I think the best way to start is to meet our leaders, let them know we’re here, and invite them to come to us in person.”

“Surely you don’t think the President is just going to come running out to see this thing landing on his lawn?”

“Oh no. I expect his security people will round him up, and take him to some bunker deep under the White House until they can decide if I am a threat.”

“So how do you plan to see him?”

“When they see my ship is real, and check with their radar technicians, they’ll realize we landed in the midst of them without a shadow of a radar return. The Secret Service will be unable to lock on with their shoulder fired Stingers because we won’t be giving off any infrared.  That will tell them a bit about what this ship is able to do,” I replied.

We watched as the air began to glow with a translucent pink around our view area, and then faded for while as the reentry blotted out our glimpse of the earth. A short time later we slowed and the glow receded gradually, and I could tell we were still very high up. We were somewhere over the west coast working our way down and east. Peter slowed further, and it looked as if we were in a plane flying at incredible speed, but at high altitude. I saw the inter-mountain region pass below, and the plains began to open up in the distance ahead. Peter continued to slow, and descend, and now it seemed as if we were only a few miles up. I wondered if he was able to avoid other planes, and decided that I would have to trust him.

The ground below began to pass by less swiftly, and I could see that we were in a more populated area. City and town passed below, along with the familiar patchwork of farm and field. Soon I could make out the blue of the Atlantic in the distance and Peter continued to slow down, and began a broad gradual curve to the north.

Fields gave way to urban sprawl, and eventually nearly continuous city. We were moving much slower now, and were perhaps only a mile up. I could see the Pentagon off to the side, and later the Washington Monument. Peter began to move almost impossibly slow now. We were moving as though we were in an inflatable balloon floating on the air currents. We descended to about a thousand feet and drifted towards the White House at a leisurely pace.

Once over the White House lawn , we descended as though we were being lowered on an elevator cable. The motion was gradual and graceful. I could see scores of people outside watching us. Some running around directing others to take up positions, some speaking into radios. At least three were standing by at various points with shoulder fired missiles slung across their shoulders, but taking no action.

Some military vehicles began converging on the area, discharging a number of soldiers in combat gear. They spread out in a semicircle around what appeared to be our landing site, and took up firing positions. We continued to descend until we were below the level of the Capitol Rotunda, and motion ceased. We were on the earth, home to an uncertain welcome.

“Peter, are you able to shield me once I am outside the ship?” I asked. “I am concerned about all those guys out there with guns.”

“Yes, if you wish. I can shield you much the same way as I do the ship. Would you like that?”

“Please. Shield us both,” I requested. Can you teleport us back to the ship from here, if we get into trouble?”

“Yes,” Peter replied. “I hope there will be none, and that your visit is successful.”

“Thank you. Sharon, are you ready for this, or would you like to remain here?”

“If you don’t mind, I would rather stay here. I think I need to stay out of the picture,” she replied.

“OK. That’s probably for the best. I’ll see you later.”

I left her in the Nav room and went down to the airlock. After checking that I was suitably neat, I had Peter open the airlock and lower the ramp.
The scene that greeted me was a mixture of chaos and amazement. People surrounded the ship, and all were keeping their distance. There were several companies of troops on the ground lying in prone positions, weapons trained on me as I stood in the entrance. I waved at them and waited to see if anyone would break from the crowd and come in my direction.

Eventually a couple of security types approached, conferring with someone on a radio as they came. They stopped near the base of the ramp, and waited for me to make the next move. I walked down and greeted them as I approached.

“Hi. As you can see I’m human. I’m Mitch Cole, the one who recently sent you the message from space,” I said introducing myself.

“Jack Pierson, Secret Service. You’ve caused quite a stir in the White House,” one replied in what I suspected was a serious understatement.

“Bruce Collins, Senior Security Advisor,” the other introduced himself.

“Well, I suppose you can see that my message wasn’t a hoax.”

“True enough,” Bruce Collins acknowledged. “What do you want from us?”

“I’d like to meet with the President alone first, and then with he and his cabinet. I have a proposal that he should hear,” I replied.

“You understand that there are protocols for arranging meetings such as this? Surely you don’t just expect to barge in and see the President on such short notice?” Jack said.

“Oh yes. I also understand that some situations go beyond protocol. I’d bet there is no established protocol for contact with an alien species.”

“When do you want to meet?” Bruce asked.

“As soon as possible today,” I replied.

“Are you armed?” Jack asked.

“No, and neither is my ship. I do ask though, that you keep everyone away from the ship. It isn’t a tourist attraction yet.”

“We’ll do what we can,” Jack replied with a grin. “I hope you don’t mind if we search you to make sure that you aren’t carrying a weapon..”

“No problem, but please don’t do it in front of the cameras. I’d hate to look like a criminal in front of everyone.”

“We’ll do it inside the White House. If you will follow us,” Bruce suggested. They turned and led the way towards the White House across the lawn. Two more secret service agents joined us and I found myself bracketed by agents in front and rear.

I thought about the open airlock and said “Just a moment,” to the men ahead of me. They stopped and turned around, and I said “I need to close the door.”

“Go right ahead,” Bruce said.

“Peter, please retract the ramp and close the airlock, ” I requested.

“Who is Peter?” Jack asked.

“My ship.”

As we stood and watched, the ramp withdrew into the ship, and the door closed seamlessly leaving the ship gleaming on the lawn like a great ovoid pearl. They shook their heads in amazement, as I indicated that I was ready to go. As we walked toward the entrance Jack asked,  “How do you communicate with your ship?”

“Telepathy, sort of ...” I replied. “It’s hard to explain.”

“I’ll bet,” he said.

We continued up the steps and on into the White House, and there I was frisked and scanned with metal detectors before being ushered further within. Halls and rooms went by, and after a couple of elevators (both going down) we entered a large room which was apparently used for conferences. Inside, the room was tastefully furnished with a conference table, chairs, some paintings and a few plants contributing to an air of business and purpose. On the table were two silver trays with decanters of water, and sets of crystal drinking glasses surrounded each. The decanters had been filled with fresh iced water, indicating someone was anticipating the need for a conference and had already set the wheels in motion. I admired the efficiency.

No one was at the table when I arrived, and I was ushered to a seat to wait for the President. Two Secret Service men remained with me, standing one on each side of the double door. While I sat there, I looked at the paintings on the wall. Evidently our new President favored Charles Russell, for several of his paintings hung there. I thought it fitting, for nothing could be more American than art that was unmistakably American in origin. The President came from Colorado, so his admiration of Charles Russell was hardly surprising. He is one of the few presidents who has held office to whom a cowboy hat was more than a prop. His earthy humor largely won him the election, that and his populist approach to politics.

Footsteps approached from the corridor, and the two Secret Service agents snapped to attention as the President entered flanked by his National Security Advisor and another Secret Service aide. I arose as he entered the room and he came over with his hand outstretched. While he wasn’t actually smiling, he seemed cordial as he greeted me.

“Glad to meet you, Mr. Cole. I never thought one man could turn the world on its ear in such a short amount of time.”

“Had it been only me, Mr. President, I would probably be inclined to agree with that. I can’t claim any glory here. I was chosen for this,” I replied.

“Destiny has a way of choosing us all,” he said. “Why don’t we have a seat? I’d like to know what you have in mind with your rather dramatic return.”

“Mr. President, I would rather speak to you alone first. Afterwards, if you see fit, we can bring your advisors and staff to the table. I understand I am asking a lot, however the situation calls for it.”

“How much time do you need?” he asked.

“Half an hour should be more than enough, Mr. President.”

He dismissed his staff and sent the Secret Service agents outside to guard the doors as we conferred. When the doors had closed he said, “I hope you haven’t come to deliver some sort of extraterrestrial ultimatum.” He said it jokingly, but the look on his face was anything but humorous.

“No sir. I’ve been chosen to act as an emissary. I have been selected to represent an intergalactic consortium of governments and businesses who have joined together for mutual benefit and prosperity. My message is a simple one. We’ve been invited to join them.”

He sat there speechless for a long moment shaking his head in disbelief, then chuckled as he said, “For once a politician has been struck dumb. Perhaps you can do the impossible after all.”

“Not me, Mr. President. Lets just say my friends can make it happen.”

“Powerful friends indeed. Had you not come here the way you did, you wouldn’t even have made the back page of the local tabloids. You’ve put the ball squarely in my court, and I’m not sure what game I should be playing yet.”

“Perhaps we could call it global politics for now,” I suggested. “Think of it as an offer to enter a new Renaissance.”

“What exactly is the offer?” he asked. “And more to the point, what is the price.”

“The offer, Mr. President, is an end to the dark ages for mankind, once and for all. The price is raw materials and cooperation.”

“Perhaps the price may be too high after all. Providing raw materials is a moot issue if cooperation can’t be achieved.”

“I think cooperation can be gained, but I may have to be the one to secure it. I sense that’s why I was hired.”

“How can you accomplish what decades of negotiations have failed to achieve in the United Nations, as well as every other forum we’ve established across the ages for resolving our differences internationally?” he asked.

“Did your security people explain how I was able to land without their knowledge of my approach?”

“Yes, they said you didn’t show up on radar. They also told me that their Stingers wouldn’t lock on. It was though we were looking right through your ship,” he answered. “I take it there is more that could be said for what sits out there on the White House lawn.”

“More indeed. When I leave you Mr. President, I will not require an escort. I will leave under my own volition. I will leave as a free man to a ship I own and have title to. When I choose to return I will do so the same way. I can enter this same room, and not one of your security men can stop me. My ship makes this possible. This is not a threat sir, but a statement of fact. I have negotiation power because no one has power over me. I can bargain because I hold the cards.”

“You delude yourself if you think no one has power over you. There are many ways this government can show you how much power it has.”

“If you need an object lesson Mr. President I will be glad to give it to you. I ask only that you grant me one minute of absence before calling in your security men. I will be right back. Peter, bring me aboard,” I said.

The air glowed the familiar lavender color and I was back in the Nav room. Once there I asked Peter, “Can you record our conversation while I am back in that conference room?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Please do so. You can send me back now.”

The air turned lavender again, and as the glow subsided I could see the President still there looking stunned. He hadn’t moved from when I had left a few moments before. As I materialized the look on his face was one of awe, and shock. He reached over to the decanter and poured himself a glass of water and sipped it as if seeking comfort in its coolness. He then looked at it thoughtfully as he said, “ You seem to have a gift for rendering me speechless.”

“I hope you recover quickly. Your voice is needed now more than at any other time in history. We have an opportunity to overcome generations of ignorance, disease, poverty, war, and affliction. Our only way to get this is  speaking in a united voice as Mankind, not as a nation.”

“Mankind has never had a united voice. The very nature of man makes it impossible. Every idealistic dreamer who ever tried to make it happen was either a crackpot or a despotic fool," he replied.

“Mr. President, you understand politics. By your very campaign experiences you understand how important it is to sell an idea. For an idea to sell you have to create a perception of need. The same as if you were selling a product. Need and desire must be spoken to, or no one will be interested. We have to create a perception of a need for change and match it with a desire to benefit by what is being offered. A common voice will have to come from the common people, and work up to those who lead and represent them.”

“If you believe this, why did you start with me?”

“I need your support Mr. President. I recognize there are many nations out there that have no freedom as we do. I need to reach them as well, and I’ll need inside information on how to get to the men at the top.”

“Intelligence.”

“Yes, Mr. President. I need to know names, places, coordinates, times, personal habits, and any personality traits that may help me understand who I am negotiating with.”

“You’re asking for some pretty sensitive and classified material.”

“Yes, and a lot more. I am asking for your trust.”

“That brings me back to my original question. What do we get from this, and what is the price?”

“We get technology which makes my ship out on the lawn look like a toy. We get an opportunity to end disease, educate our young, and gain control over forces that thus far have held us at their mercy since the dawn of time. The price is raw material. They want ammonia from one of our gas giants.”

“That’s all?” he asked. “How do we get it to them?”

“They come get it. They’ll hollow out a Neptunian moon, fill it with liquid or frozen ammonia, and send it on it’s way. No one will miss it.”

“Sounds almost too good to be true. Whenever a deal like this comes along I can’t help wonder what the hidden cost is.” He drank some more of his water and sat there twirling an ice cube idly around in his glass. “There has to be a catch.”

“They want a continued association. It will bring long term economic benefits, because the technologies we learn will enable us to compete in a galactic market. Right now raw materials are all we have to offer. Intergal considers it a fair trade... technology for raw materials. That moonful of methane represents global wealth on a scale that’s hard to imagine.”

“How long do we have to consider this offer?”

“As long as it takes me to get a majority of the world behind the idea. I have all the time I need.”

“You said ‘Intergal’ a moment ago. Is that who you are working for?” he asked.

“Yes. It stands for Intergalactic.”

“What’s your next move?”

“I am going back to my ship. Then I plan to invite you and selected members of your cabinet to my ship for a conference. I have room for ten, and two slots are taken so that would leave room for yourself and seven others you trust to join me.”

“When?” he asked.

“I’ll call you and arrange a time. Please be sure to have my call routed to you personally. When you’re ready to come I will ask that you and those you have chosen to come to this room, and I will bring you to my ship from here.”

“Ok. Give me a few hours. The sooner we do this the better. The media are having a field day right now, and we need to give some answers.”

“Fine. Thank you for your time.” I got up as he did and we shook hands.

The President went to the doors to open them, and while he was letting in the Secret Service and his National Security Advisor I had Peter take me back to the ship. The lavender glow obliterated the room as the Nav console appeared before me.

“Welcome back,” Sharon said from behind me.

“Thanks,” I replied. “You should have been there. He’s a neat guy.”

“I heard it. Peter let me listen to it while you were talking. You did a great job.”

“Thank you. It looks like we’d better get ready for company. Peter, take us into orbit please. Make it a higher one than normal. I want to be able to see the entire globe.”

“Ok. Would you like to watch?”

“Yes. As soon as we’re airborne, make us visible to radar, keep us off the infrared, and then take us out at a speed that no rocket could match. We might as well demonstrate a little capability. Keep our shields up though.”

“How instant do you want the acceleration?”

“You can stabilize the ‘g’ forces can’t you?”

“No problem.”

“Take us straight up at ten feet per second to 5000 feet, hover for one minute, then accelerate to ten ‘g’s’ and increase geometrically until we are out of the atmosphere. I hope the sonic boom doesn’t break windows.”

“Ok. Stand by,” Peter replied.

We watched the screen as we rose slowly above the ground. It seemed like a ride on a fast moving elevator. More and more area opened up below as we rose, and  we could see for the first time the size of the crowd that had assembled around the capitol. Every street and square was filled and choked with pedestrians and vehicles. It seemed as if all of Washington D.C. had turned out to see the sight as we rose from the White House lawn with the sun gleaming off the pearlescent sides of our craft. News vans were everywhere and camera crews trained their equipment on us as we rose. Our view was so clear I was almost tempted to wave as we left.

Washington’s streets grew progressively smaller as we gained altitude until I could no longer make out some of the smaller features, and then all motion stopped. We hung there not moving even with the wind. In the distance I could see a couple of military jets closing in on us and Peter said, “Twenty seconds to acceleration.”

“Do you see those jets,” I asked.

“Yes,” he replied. They are targeting us with their radar, but have orders to take no action beyond observation unless we prove to be hostile.”

“When they draw even with us would you match speed and direction with them for a moment? It might be fun so see their reaction. Stay right by their sides.”

“Sounds fun even to me. I’ll do it,” Peter said.

We didn’t have long to wait. The jets were evidently planning to fly past on our right side and circle around as if to keep us in sight. As soon as they reached their closest point we moved in and hung there about a hundred feet from the wing tip of the wing  man of the lead plane. We matched speed and altitude perfectly, and it looked as though we were suspended in the air together hung by an invisible pivot point.
“Let them know we mean no harm. I’d hate to have a misunderstanding right now.”

“Would you like to talk to them?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Go ahead,” Peter offered.

“Unidentified jets sharing our airspace, this is Mitch Cole of Intergal. I hope you don’t mind if we act as your wing man for a few minutes,” I said.

“This is Blue Leader. I don’t know how you got on our frequency, but we’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t cause any trouble for us. We have our hands full routing air traffic around this area.”

“No problem Blue Leader. I need clear air space as much as you do. How about taking me out to sea so a sonic boom won’t break windows. We plan to go into orbit shortly.”

“Stay on this vector and we’ll escort you out.”

“Roger.”

Ahead we could see the Atlantic and soon we were over water. A few ships below left a white wake behind them as they churned their way east. The silence was broken when Blue Leader said, “All clear. Wish I could be there.”

“Thanks, Blue Leader. Maybe someday sooner than you think,” I replied. “Peter, take us into orbit.”

We spurted ahead of the jets, and then went straight up like being shot from a cannon. We broke the sound barrier in the first milli-second, and accelerated at an awesome speed. It only took about thirty seconds to reach an orbit that had the earth hanging out there like a grossly inflated balloon. We were at least 20,000 miles out, probably more.

“Wow!”  Sharon exclaimed. “I never felt a thing.”

“We were going as fast as a meteor, and in a very short time too!” I replied.

“Peter, can you tune in to what’s going on down there,” Sharon asked. “I’d like to know what’s being said about us.”

“I can,” Peter replied, “But it would help me to know what media source you wish to listen to.”

“How about Trans-Global Network?” she suggested.

“Would you like the video with that?”  Peter asked.

“Yes, that would be nice.”

“Stand by.”

The view area around the Nav console shimmered and then an obvious television picture appeared, and the anchorman  was introducing the latest development in the historical landing of an extraterrestrial vehicle at the White House. Cameras panned as we lifted off the White House lawn, and the announcer was speculating why the ship was departing without me, as I had been seen entering the White House a half hour earlier, and now the ship was leaving. I chuckled as I thought to myself, “Wouldn’t they like to know!”

We watched our liftoff from below and watched the reactions of the crowd as the camera occasionally panned the surroundings. No one seemed afraid, mostly awed and curious. There were even a few tears. The camera  was trained on us as we joined the Air Force jets. We went from midair suspension to instant motion in the blink of an eye, and we could hear the gasp and exclamation of the cameraman as he tried to keep up with us.

The anchor man commented, “Well we saw it, but still don’t believe it. Anyone in that ship should have been crushed by the forces of that maneuver. We’ve got a helicopter in the area, and we’ll bring you a feed from that camera as soon as we receive ... just a moment... I’ve just heard from a source in the Defense Department which states the ship has been in contact with the pilot of their F-16, and the pilot of the ship has identified himself as Mitch Cole.”

“The pilot informed them that the craft identified itself on their frequencies and sought an escort to take it away from populated areas before going into orbit. They are now heading out to sea. Unlike when they arrived, the ship is now fully visible on radar. We’ll keep you informed as the situation develops. We now have an update from our Air Four Helicopter.”

The scene changed and the camera was shakily trained on the two jets and our ship flying parallel to them. The F-16's were dwarfed by our ship. The helicopter was gradually dropping behind and the pilot was compensating by increasing the zoom settings on the camera. Soon we were too far out of range for the camera to see the jets as anything but a pair of tiny dots, and the ship as a white ovoid blur nearby. As the camera watched the white oval ship shot forward and then straight up in a motion too swift to follow with the eye. We were gone. The newscaster tried to slow the sequence down in replay, and even in slow motion the departure took a blink of an eye.

“There you have it, exclusively from Trans-Global News. Our extraterrestrial visitor has left for orbit, if our eyes are to be believed, in an awesome demonstration of flying capability.”

“We go now to the White House where the Press Secretary has a statement from the President.”

The scene changed to the White House Press Room where a man stood at the podium. Behind him on a banner hung the Presidential Seal. An American flag stood to the side. He tapped the mike and was rewarded by a hollow thump and a little feedback as the technicians hastily balanced the sound. He held up a typed paper and began to read.

“This morning at 9:44 a.m. Eastern Standard time, reports of UFO sightings began to circulate throughout the Midwest. In most of the cases, the craft described is the one we saw today on the White House lawn. The Unidentified Flying Object was heading east at high altitude at well over the speed of sound.”

“There were no confirming radar contacts, but the multitude of the calls were enough to cause us to investigate. By 10 a.m. the object was sighted proceeding on a northerly course going directly toward Washington D.C. and the Air Force was alerted. We also alerted the local emergency agencies to be on the lookout and to be prepared to field calls from observers as the object progressed on a continuing northerly course.”

“The object began to decelerate rapidly as it approached the Capitol, and then hovered over the White House lawn before landing. Security forces were dispatched as a routine precaution, however no force was used or judged to be necessary. Once the craft was on the ground, a door opened and a ramp was extended. A man identifying himself as Mitch Cole descended and was escorted to the White House.”

“Mr. Cole was not seen to emerge from the White House again, though White House Security assures us he did return to his ship. Mr. Cole spent some time conferring with the President, and a meeting is arranged for some high level talks with the President and seven of his top advisors later today.”
He put the paper down, and then said, “There will be no question and answer session following this briefing, but the President assures you, he will hold a press conference soon.”

The anchorman  reappeared and began to summarize the White House statement, rehashing it point by point and speculating on how the next meeting was to be arranged. I decided I had seen enough, and asked Peter to shut it off.

“Well, we are certainly famous now,” I said to no one in particular.

“They didn’t mention me,” Peter replied almost sadly.

“You were the star of the show. They’ll find out soon enough about your personality. Don’t take it too seriously.” I chuckled as I thought about it. I never guessed that an artificial intelligence could have an ego.

“We have some preparations to make,” Sharon said. “How do we get some food and refreshments on the banquet table for our guests?”

“Leave that to me,” Peter replied. “I assume you will want enough for ten, with generosity in mind?”

“Yes please,” I responded. “Some hors d’oeuvres would be nice and selections of fruit and pastries. Nothing heavy for now. Lunch will be over when we get together, although most of them will hardly have had time to eat. This meeting  will need to center on something other than food.”

“What about drinks?” Peter asked.

“Water for sure, and tea. I think flexibility will be the order of the day, as we don’t know their preferences. You can supply their tastes I hope?”

“I can satisfy them with whatever they request and more. There are many sources of food and beverage of extraterrestrial origin I can reproduce for your guests. You may someday have to entertain people from those places..”

“I think I’ll wait for that to happen. I don’t suppose it would be compatible with our metabolism.”

“Actually a surprising amount of it is. Let me know if you are ever interested in experimenting,” Peter suggested.

“Thanks. I think I’ll take a rain check for now.”

I looked over at Sharon, and she had been listening with interest to the exchange but not saying anything. When she realized we were done, she asked if I wanted to go to the banquet room to supervise preparations and I agreed. Together we left the Nav room, went down the corridor past our rooms, and entered the banquet room.

The earth was visible on the left side of the room through the windows behind the Grecian statues. It seemed to hang in one place as the features gradually rotated around like a slowly spinning globe. As we watched the moon swung into view and moved past at roughly the same rotational speed as the topography below us. It went past and out of sight again appearing later on the opposite side of the room and gradually working its way past in an arc before appearing again in the same view area as the earth.

The sun also  seemed to be playing the same game of tag, and the ship was very effective at dimming the glare as it swung by. The earth was by far the biggest of them all as we were still close to it, but the moon was noticeably bigger than I was used to, perhaps by 20%. This was as convincing a picture as any I could see that we were indeed in orbit around the earth.

Sharon had gone to the end of the table. The alcove at the end had another smaller alcove next to it. Recessed in that was a flat surface the size of a desktop. Resting on it was an ornate silver tray, with ten fine cut crystal glasses evenly arranged in a circle around a carafe.

“It’s beautiful,” she exclaimed.

“Thank you. I designed them myself,” Peter replied. “They were inspired by a style that was popular in England back in the 1860's.”

“So you’re an artist as well.”

“Indeed. Would you like me to paint you someday?”

Sharon laughed, then replied, “Thanks, but it would probably ruin the decor.”

“I assure you, I could make it blend in. However you do yourself an injustice. A painting of you would grace any wall it hung on,” Peter insisted.

“Thank you. That was sweet,” she replied as she took the tray. She carried it to the table and set it down in the middle. When she turned around the alcove was glowing again and a tray of artfully arranged fruit was waiting for her return.

“You take all the drudgery out of receiving guests. This might be fun after all,” Sharon said as she picked up the next tray.

“Guess how I do the dishes,” Peter replied.

“Do you have a kitchen or something?” she asked.

“Oh no. I simply recycle the material. It’s much easier than handling unwanted waste,” Peter answered.

“That’s a marketable talent. Every housewife on earth would be instantly in love with you, if only for that,” Susan said thoughtfully.

“If it will sell Intergal to the people of earth all the better,” I replied.

“This plus many other wonders and gizmos to delight your planetary tastes,” Peter added.

“How soon will we be ready for our guests?” Sharon asked.

“We’ll be ready as soon as they are,” Peter answered. “Should I let them know when they can come aboard?”

“Can you do it on a private frequency so that there are no eavesdroppers?” I asked.

“I can tap into the White House secure communications line. It is scrambled and coded so that only another agency with the code and key are able to access the transmission. They may wonder how I got the codes, but it is the best I can do.,” he replied.

“Good. Go ahead and do it. Let them know we will be ready for our guests in a half hour.”

“Message delivered. They will send an encrypted pulse when they are ready,” Peter said after a brief pause.

“Good. Thanks, Peter. I hope this is successful.”

“I think it will be,” Peter replied. “Intergal chose well.”

“We’ll see, won’t we?”

Sharon was still arranging things to her satisfaction as I left to go make sure my room was presentable for the second time today.  Needless to say, I was a bit nervous.

Later, Peter told me that he had received the message from the White House informing us they were ready for our conference and I thanked him and asked him to notify them to stand by for a five minute departure.  I went to the conference room, and Sharon wasn’t there.  The table was well done, and looked like it had been set for royalty.  I found Sharon in an observation room looking out at the stars.

“They’ll be here in five minutes,” I said. “Do you think ten of us will fit in here ok?”

“Probably,” she replied.

“What do you think about having Peter bring them here first?” We both looked around the room assessing the space, and decided that there was plenty of room.

“I think it’s a great idea. I hardly want to leave,” Sharon replied.

“Peter, I’m sure you heard our speculation.  Would you mind bringing them here?” I asked.

“Sure. They are less than a minute away.”

It seemed like a small eternity, but eventually the air glowed violet, and eight very disoriented people stood in our observation room.  Sharon and I were quick to ease their fears and help them to adjust to the sudden reality change.  The President seemed to adjust quicker than most other than his National Security Advisor.
 
“Dear God, this is the dream of a lifetime,” he said in awe as he looked at the earth below. He finally turned away from the view with a sigh, and began to introduce his staff and associates.

“This is Vice-President Norton Williams, Norton this is Mitch Cole” he said as the Vice President and I shook hands.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said. “You’re getting more publicity than the White House these days.”

“At least it’s temporary. I can get away from it when I need to,” I replied.

“And this is Richard Grey, our National Security Advisor,” the President continued.

“It’s a pleasure.”

The President continued to introduce me to the Secretary of Defense, Kirk Princeton, the CIA Director, William Gertrom, the Speaker of the House, Gerald Houghton, the Senate Majority Leader, Donald Prout. He had also brought one Secret Service agent with him, and explained that he would have had a very difficult time explaining to White House Security why he wanted no Secret Service representatives at all.

“That’s fine. I don’t think he got here with a weapon anyway,” I replied. “Peter probably disarmed him on the way in.”

The President looked momentarily stunned as the Secret Service man confirmed that he was indeed unarmed.  Then he smiled and said, “Well it looks like we’re in your hands.”

“Indeed,” I replied. “Would you like a tour of the ship before we begin?”

“Certainly.”

“Peter, would you be so kind as to be our tour guide?” I asked.

“With pleasure,” Peter replied. “I’ll leave your quarters to your discretion.”

The floor strips lit up with a sequenced pulse leading away from the Observation room toward the Nav Room.  Peter began to explain the ship and how it functioned, when it was built, and by whom.  He was about to tell how I had gained title to it, when I interrupted and said that I would explain that part later.  He continued on explaining briefly how the Nav console worked, and offered to answer questions.

There were many questions, and a general sense of awe at Peter himself.  When they realized that he was a true artificial intelligence with a personality, it was almost laughable.  Then I explained that Peter was my ship, not merely my computer and their amazement took on a new dimension.
William Gertrom, the CIA Director asked, “Do you mean to say that there is no central processor or computer on board this ship?”

“That’s correct. I use quantum memory from the ship’s own matter. I don’t need a central processor. The internal power source of the ship serves as my neural net, and I can feel with my hull any injuries and repair damage as easily as you could heal your own skin.”

“That’s amazing.”

“If you will kindly follow me, we will continue the tour.”
 
The floor lit up again taking us past my quarters where I had Peter show them my room.  All were surprised at the spaciousness, and the elegant decor.  We left there and went down a level into the cargo area.  Again everyone was impressed with the room available and I took them to the airlock so they could see how I could bring cargo or supplies in and out.

“Understand, that I really don’t need the airlock as a rule. I could just as easily come and go as you did, and  get my supplies the same way.” I explained.

Peter led us back up to the observation deck and to the conference room where we all took our places at the table. I realized that Sharon had somehow gotten Peter to come up with some champagne. She sat next to me, and I looked at her as I was sitting down and whispered  “thank you”. When everyone had been seated, I asked Peter to record the proceedings, and then proposed a toast.

“This is to the future of mankind: may our world prosper, and may we see peace in our lifetimes.”

The President lifting his glass said “And may this be the first step toward that future.”

After the toast and everyone had commented on the quality of the champagne, I spent some time outlining for the assembled group why we were gathered there.
I detailed how and why Intergal had contacted me, and explained that Intergal had some piratical competition out there that would dearly love to horn in on the operation if they knew how to find us. The National Security Advisor perked up as did CIA Director Gertrom when I explained how after I sent the message to Earth, I had gotten downsent by a computer virus into the heart of TranSystem’s operation on Nardis, and how Chirt and Trill had helped me escape.  I then explained about how the nullifier enabled me to give a detailed deposition which could be used in Galactic Court to prosecute the pirates and how the ship was my reward for the value of the stolen cargo which had been recovered.

After I had finished, and opened the table for questions, Gerald Houghton the Speaker of the House asked, “What do you expect from Congress?”

“Mr. Speaker, for now your endorsement and your cooperation would be invaluable,” I replied. “The people of the United States need to recognize what a wonderful opportunity this is and support it.  If Congress is willing to back this with a resolution authorizing our government to negotiate with Intergal as part of an international cooperative  trade venture, we will reap substantial benefit from it.”

“Is Intergal a business or a government?” Houghton asked.

“Intergal seems to function as both.  Different systems which have no relations with each other except through Intergal are able to accomplish joint ventures simply because without Intergal their economies would die.  That gives Intergal a lot of power economically, but the reverse side is that it is in the best interest of Intergal to keep happy trading partners.  War is not a good trading environment for anyone but an arms merchant.  Intergal applies economic pressure to help keep the peace a lot more effectively than the U.N. can do here. No one can break the isolation of space if a blockade is effective.  An entire solar system can be shut off from the universe if need be to keep harmony.  I have been assured that having full partnership in the consortium is almost a guarantee of prosperity.”

“What would happen to Earth if we say no?” the President asked.

“We would be left alone to stew in our own juices.  Intergal won’t force it on us.  At worst, we would be doomed to status quo.”

“What about that other bunch, the pirates?  Suppose they find us and try to interfere?  Will Intergal help keep them off our backs?” asked CIA Director Gertrom.

“There are certain protections and fringe benefits which go along with membership in Intergal.  I am sure that we can negotiate a mutually acceptable arrangement.  The burden may be heavy on Intergal until our ability matches the available technology so that we can act in our own defense.” I replied.

The President leaned back in his chair and surveyed the room.  He took note of the decor and looked out the windows in the alcoves for a moment.  Then he took another sip of champagne before remarking, “They seem to value us enough to pay tribute to our culture.  This room is a brilliant blend of modern and ancient, and your stateroom is another fine example of the same.  I think they are serious about meeting our needs and allaying our fears.”

“The question is Mr. President, are we able to be equally as serious about rising to the challenge?” I asked. “This represents the opportunity of an era. If we fail to take advantage of it, we may never get as good a chance as this again.  As best as I can tell, Intergal is playing straight with us.”

“Intergal wants an answer from earth, so I think you need more than just the United States in on the decision.  Why aren’t we considering the United Nations for this support?” Senate Majority Leader Prout asked.

“All of you know the United Nations is a figurehead.  Those who control the U.N. would do everything they could to siphon off its assets and seize power for themselves with these new opportunities.  I think it is in the best interests of us all to bypass the U.N., perhaps even to propose an alternative such as an international consortium dedicated to provide equal access to the benefits which could be had by our entry into Intergal,” I answered.

“Surely you don’t think you can just do an end run around the U.N.?” Vice-President Williams remarked.  “No matter what you may think of their politics or honesty, they are the duly authorized global representative, able to make the kind of decision which Intergal requires.”

“If the United States thinks so highly of the U.N., why doesn’t it support the U.N. unreservedly?” I asked.  “You know that our government owes the U.N. millions of dollars in dues.  I also know that periodically there have been discussions about the possibility of withdrawing from the U.N. because of modern day chicanery.”

“The political repercussions involved with leaving the U.N. out of this matter are too serious to accurately evaluate in this meeting.  We would need more time to evaluate the consequences,” CIA Director Gertrom responded.

“Perhaps we could use the U.N. to send the message of acceptance, but do the actual negotiations using some other entity,” I suggested.  “If we could get the U.N. to agree to authorize an independent body to represent the Earth in these discussions and leave regional interests out as much as possible it might work.”

“Regional interests are what form the hub of our modern day economies and balance of power.  If you shift the power bases without adequate safeguards, the instability could plunge us into a major world war using our newfound technology to create destruction beyond our wildest nightmares,” the President said.  “I know this isn’t what you want to accomplish, but mankind has shown little tendency for anything else in all recorded history. You, despite your best intentions, could be the indirect cause of that war.”

“Mr. President, no change takes place without a certain amount of risk. I agree the stakes are high, but I believe that we’re all equal to the challenge.  Besides, there are other cards in play which you haven’t seen yet.  I am sure that ways can be found to ensure peace.”

“Does Intergal have a police force or army to keep order?” he asked. “How can you expect them, or us for that matter, to change human nature overnight?”

“If you were to try to negotiate a treaty with the Chinese right now, wouldn’t it be valuable to know what they were thinking? I mean what they were really thinking,” I asked.

“It would have a significant influence on the outcome, and you know it.  Are you hinting at mind reading or something like it?”

“Yes, Mr. President.  Mr. Whittleby’s device allows one to record and play back another’s thoughts.  This same device could make ordinary negotiations obsolete because it would give the negotiations complete honesty. Real intentions could not be disguised.  Some of those negotiations could actually take place here.  Peter is equipped to act as a moderator should his services be required.  He has the same ability as that device Mr. Whittleby used with me.”

“Is Peter using that ability right now?  Is he reading our minds?” the Vice-President asked.

“No, I didn’t ask him to.  I would have to ask him to do so,” I replied. “I respect your privacy, and hope that whatever we decide here will not require the use of such persuasion.”

“Thank you,” the President replied. “I trust that it won’t be needed. Still, it may be more than necessary in the near future.  Let’s hope that our venture into the unknown brings a reward suitable to us all in the face of the risks we are taking. I fear that there are many in other places who would see this as an opportunity to get rich beyond their greediest dreams, and use what they learn to enslave the rest of us if it were possible. It is this which concerns me most. I believe the greatest danger lies in how the new knowledge is to be disseminated. The country that gets the first look at the new technology holds the rest of the world at its mercy. If that nation does not have peace in mind, then the advantage gained by what is learned will be used to make war on and enslave the rest of mankind. We need acceptable safeguards against this.”

We concluded the meeting with a promise to work together to try and gain global support for the Intergal proposal. The President pledged the full cooperation of his administration towards that goal, and both congressional leaders pledged similar cooperation from their respective constituencies. Altogether, I felt it went well, and was a good indication for future efforts. I could already see the advantages of using Peter as our base of operations.