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‘Let me guess,’ I say, remembering the name from Mark’s website. ‘The old director was Bud Sanderson. Now secretary of defense.’
Walker looks momentarily impressed. ‘Right. You connect the dots, you’ll find a lot of people who negotiated with the Mogs ten years ago have done real well for themselves since.’
‘What about the president?’ Six asks.
‘That guy?’ Walker snorts. ‘Small fish. The ones who get elected, who give speeches on TV – they’re just glorified celebrities. The real power’s with the people who get appointed, who work behind the scenes. The ones you’ve never heard of. They’re who the Mogs wanted and that’s who they’ve kept around.’
‘He’s still the president,’ Six counters. ‘Why doesn’t he do something?’
‘Because he’s kept in the dark,’ Walker says. ‘And anyway, the VP is a MogPro guy. When the time comes, the president will either go along with the Mogs, or he’ll get removed.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I say, holding up my hands. ‘What the hell is MogPro?’
‘Mogadorian Progress,’ Walker explains. ‘It’s what they’re calling the, quote, intersection of our two species, unquote.’
‘You know, if you ever want a second career, I know a website you could write for,’ I tell Walker as I start paging through the documents in her file. There are specifications for Mogadorian blasters, transcripts of conversations between politicians, pictures of important-looking government guys shaking hands with Mogs in officer uniforms. It’s the kind of document dump a site like They Walk Among Us would kill for.
Actually, a lot of this stuff was already on Mark’s website. Could Walker have been the one feeding him information?
‘So your boss sold out humanity for some upgraded weapons?’ Six asks, leaning over the back of the couch to glare at Walker.
‘That sums it up. We weren’t the only country to sign up either,’ Walker continues, her tone bitter. ‘And they knew how to keep us on the hook, too. After the weapons, they started promising medical advances. Genetic augmentation, they called it. Claimed they could cure everything from the flu to cancer. They were basically promising immortality.’
I look up from the file, stopping at a picture of a soldier with a rolled-up sleeve, the veins on his forearm blackened as if his blood had turned to soot.
‘How’s that working out?’ I ask, tapping the photo.
Walker cranes her neck to look at the picture, then locks eyes with me. ‘What you’re looking at is one week’s withdrawal from Mogadorian genetic injections. That’s how it’s working out.’
I show the photo to Six and she shakes her head in disgust.
‘So basically they’re killing you slowly,’ Six says. ‘Or turning you into Mogs.’
‘We didn’t know what we were getting into,’ Walker says. ‘Seeing Purdy disintegrate like that, though … it opened some eyes. The Mogs aren’t saviors. They’re turning us into something inhuman.’
‘And yet you guys are still dealing with them, aren’t you?’ I reply. ‘I heard there’s people trying to go public on some captured Mogadorians, but someone’s squashing the story.’
Walker nods. ‘The Mogs claim their genetic augmentations will only get better with time. A lot of the good old boys in Washington want to stick it out and stay the course. They’ve never seen a human being disintegrate, I guess. Guys like Sanderson and some of the other high-ranking MogPro cronies, they’ve already started receiving more advanced treatments. All the Mogs want in exchange is our continued cooperation.’
‘Cooperate how?’
Walker raises an eyebrow at me. ‘If you haven’t figured that out yet, then I’ve definitely picked the wrong side and we are well and truly screwed.’
‘Maybe if you’d picked the right side years ago instead of helping to hunt down children –’ I catch a look from Six and check my anger. ‘Whatever. We know they’re coming. No more hiding in the shadows or the suburbs. They’re coming in force, right?’
‘Right,’ Walker confirms. ‘And they expect us to hand over the keys to the planet.’
Malcolm returns from the kitchen with two cups of coffee. He hands one to Six and one to Walker, the agent looking surprised but grateful.
‘Excuse me, but how will that work?’ Malcolm says. ‘In a first-contact situation, there’s certain to be widespread panic.’
‘Plus, they look like pasty-faced freaks,’ Six adds. ‘People are gonna lose their shit.’
‘Don’t be so sure about that,’ Walker replies, and gestures with her mug to the folder I’m still holding. After flipping through a couple more pages, I come to a set of photographs. Two guys in suits are eating lunch in a fancy restaurant. The first is a guy in his late sixties with thinning gray hair and a face like an owl I recognize from Mark’s website; he’s Bud Sanderson, the secretary of defense. The other, a handsome middle-aged guy who looks vaguely like a movie star, I’ve never seen before. There’s something hanging around his neck, mostly hidden by his suit and the bad camera angle. It stirs some recognition in me, so I hold the picture out to Walker.
‘I know Sanderson,’ I say. ‘Who’s this other guy?’
Walker raises an eyebrow at me. ‘What? You don’t recognize him? I’m not surprised. Guy has a couple of different looks, apparently. Me, I didn’t recognize him when he was destroying you kids at Dulce Base, big as a goddamn house, with some flaming whip. Actually, I guess that was about the time I decided MogPro wasn’t for me.’
My eyes widen and I take another look at the picture. The actual pendants are hidden beneath his suit coat, but the man clearly wears three chains around his neck. ‘You’re kidding me.’
‘Setrákus Ra,’ Walker says, shaking her head. ‘Sealing the deal for Mogadorian-human peace.’
Six comes around the couch to take the picture from me. ‘Damn shape shifter,’ she says. ‘He’s been doing all this while we’ve been on the run. Setting all this up while we scrambled around.’
‘He might be ahead, but it isn’t over,’ Malcolm says.
‘Well, that’s some heartening optimism,’ Walker says, and sips her coffee. ‘But it will be over in two days.’
‘What happens then?’ I ask.
‘The UN convenes,’ Walker explains. ‘Conveniently, the president won’t be able to make it, so Sanderson will appear in his stead. He’ll be there to introduce Setrákus Ra to the world. A nice bit of political theater about how the sweet little aliens mean us no harm. There will be a motion to allow the Mogadorian fleet safe passage on to Earth, let them dock here, be good neighbors in the intergalactic community. The world leaders he’s bought off already will support it. Believe me, they’ve got a majority. And once they’re here, once we let them in …’
‘We saw one of those warships in Florida,’ Six says, giving me a grim look. ‘They’d be hard enough to take down even with an army that’s ready for battle.’
‘But there won’t be a battle.’ I say, finishing her thought. ‘Earth won’t even put up a fight. And by the time they do realize they’ve let in a monster, it’ll be too late.’
‘Exactly,’ Walker says. ‘Not everyone in the government is on board with Sanderson. Of the FBI, CIA, NSA, the military – about fifteen per cent are for MogPro. Lots of powerful friends, they made sure of that, but most people are still entirely in the dark. I figure the Mogs established the same ratio in other countries. They know how many humans they need to control to get this done.’
‘And you’re what? The one per cent that’s fighting back?’ I ask.
‘Less than one,’ Walker replies. ‘It’s a lot to go up against if you don’t have superpowers and – what was that out there? An army of wolves? Anyway, my crew have been staking out Ashwood, waiting for a chance to strike or, I don’t know, do something. When we saw you take the place over –’
‘All right, Walker, I get it,’ I say, cutting her off and setting aside the file. ‘I believe you, even if I don’t really trust you. But what are we s
upposed to do? How do we stop this?’
‘Get to the president?’ Six suggests. ‘He has to be able to do something.’
‘That’s one idea,’ Walker says. ‘But he’s one man, and seriously well guarded. And even if you could get to him, explain to him about aliens and bring him around to your side? There’s still plenty of MogPro pricks waiting to stage a coup.’
I stare at Walker, knowing she already has a plan and is just stringing us along. ‘Spit it out. What do you want us to do?’
‘We need to win over the people who’re still in the dark. To do that, we need something big,’ Walker says, totally cavalier, like she’s talking about taking out the trash. ‘I’d like you to come with me to New York, assassinate the secretary of defense and expose Setrákus Ra.’
