The Star King Read Online Free PDF
Author: Susan Grant
military forces on the highest state of alert. In light of this, I ask you, as your president, to remain calm, to set the example for the rest of world. Let us see this as a glorious new beginning." Obviously moved, the president cleared his throat. "The beginning of an era of promise and prosperity beyond our greatest hopes, for all the people of Earth ... and the generations yet to come."
Jas shot to her feet. How her fellow human beings might react to this news troubled her far more than the headline itself. "Betty, where's your gun?"
"Locked in the office."
"Give me the key."
Jas ensured that the handgun and bullets were in the drawer Betty indicated, then carefully, methodically locked each window and the rear door. As she flew past Betty's telephone, she snatched it off its base and punched in her daughter's number in Los Angeles, praying the call would go through. Endless ringing. Her sense of helplessness skyrocketed.
"Mom, Ilana's still with Dad in Las Vegas."
Jas shot her son a grateful glance and returned the telephone to its cradle. Stay with your father, she willed her daughter. Stay safe.
"I think it's best we go to your place," Jas told Betty. She herded the woman and Ian into her Range Rover, then drove to the ranch in the forests above Sedona, while she rather guiltily wrestled with her exhilaration over what clearly alarmed the rest of the world.
That night, they watched the news: scenes of fear-fed hysteria and jubilant celebration, a pair of mass suicides, evangelists proclaiming the end of the world was upon them, and those who preached acceptance and love, even of the aliens—or Vash, as the extraterrestrials referred to themselves.
By morning. President Talley had declared martial law, which included a dusk-to-dawn curfew. The ensuing footage of National Guard tanks rumbling down Fifth Avenue in Manhattan and along the Highway 1 in Santa Monica was almost surreal. And the images were daunting enough to keep her independent and headstrong daughter Ilana in Las Vegas, rather than risking a return to her UCLA dorm.
At the end of the second day, when it appeared that the roads were safe for travel, Jas made sure Betty was secured in her home and left with Ian for Scottsdale. Traffic was horrendous, with fender-benders, stalled National Guard Humvees, and roadblocks slowing progress every few miles. Once home they immediately headed for the couch and CNN.
"In a stunning announcement this afternoon," an exhausted correspondent rasped, "the ten astronauts stationed aboard the international space station offered to meet with the Vash. The lone woman on board, Japanese scientist Keiko Takano, delivered the following statement: 'Because Earth must be protected from unknown diseases and unintentional contamination, we humbly ask to act as Earth's emissaries by meeting with our visitors face-to-face.' "
Intense debate and speculation ensued. "A noble and visionary sacrifice," some called it. "Suicide," others said. In the end, the request for the gathering was approved, and the astronauts were picked up by one of the Vash ships and whisked farther into space than any human had ever been.
"Approximately ten hours ago," the reporter announced, "the astronauts boarded the Vash command vessel for a historic summit. The transmission sent back to Earth was viewed by world leaders, military and intelligence experts, and selected members of the United Nations before being released." A checkerboard of NASA publicity photos popped into view—nine men and one woman of various nationalities. On the screen, the reporter held his hand to his ear and nodded. Then journalistic poise fled as his eyes lit up. "The pictures are coming through now."
Jas stared, unblinking, at a video, both ordinary and
extraordinary, of a group of people smiling and shaking hands. Shaking hands! "My God," she murmured. Tears of disbelief and joy blurred her vision as she
Jas shot to her feet. How her fellow human beings might react to this news troubled her far more than the headline itself. "Betty, where's your gun?"
"Locked in the office."
"Give me the key."
Jas ensured that the handgun and bullets were in the drawer Betty indicated, then carefully, methodically locked each window and the rear door. As she flew past Betty's telephone, she snatched it off its base and punched in her daughter's number in Los Angeles, praying the call would go through. Endless ringing. Her sense of helplessness skyrocketed.
"Mom, Ilana's still with Dad in Las Vegas."
Jas shot her son a grateful glance and returned the telephone to its cradle. Stay with your father, she willed her daughter. Stay safe.
"I think it's best we go to your place," Jas told Betty. She herded the woman and Ian into her Range Rover, then drove to the ranch in the forests above Sedona, while she rather guiltily wrestled with her exhilaration over what clearly alarmed the rest of the world.
That night, they watched the news: scenes of fear-fed hysteria and jubilant celebration, a pair of mass suicides, evangelists proclaiming the end of the world was upon them, and those who preached acceptance and love, even of the aliens—or Vash, as the extraterrestrials referred to themselves.
By morning. President Talley had declared martial law, which included a dusk-to-dawn curfew. The ensuing footage of National Guard tanks rumbling down Fifth Avenue in Manhattan and along the Highway 1 in Santa Monica was almost surreal. And the images were daunting enough to keep her independent and headstrong daughter Ilana in Las Vegas, rather than risking a return to her UCLA dorm.
At the end of the second day, when it appeared that the roads were safe for travel, Jas made sure Betty was secured in her home and left with Ian for Scottsdale. Traffic was horrendous, with fender-benders, stalled National Guard Humvees, and roadblocks slowing progress every few miles. Once home they immediately headed for the couch and CNN.
"In a stunning announcement this afternoon," an exhausted correspondent rasped, "the ten astronauts stationed aboard the international space station offered to meet with the Vash. The lone woman on board, Japanese scientist Keiko Takano, delivered the following statement: 'Because Earth must be protected from unknown diseases and unintentional contamination, we humbly ask to act as Earth's emissaries by meeting with our visitors face-to-face.' "
Intense debate and speculation ensued. "A noble and visionary sacrifice," some called it. "Suicide," others said. In the end, the request for the gathering was approved, and the astronauts were picked up by one of the Vash ships and whisked farther into space than any human had ever been.
"Approximately ten hours ago," the reporter announced, "the astronauts boarded the Vash command vessel for a historic summit. The transmission sent back to Earth was viewed by world leaders, military and intelligence experts, and selected members of the United Nations before being released." A checkerboard of NASA publicity photos popped into view—nine men and one woman of various nationalities. On the screen, the reporter held his hand to his ear and nodded. Then journalistic poise fled as his eyes lit up. "The pictures are coming through now."
Jas stared, unblinking, at a video, both ordinary and
extraordinary, of a group of people smiling and shaking hands. Shaking hands! "My God," she murmured. Tears of disbelief and joy blurred her vision as she
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