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Kari returned. “You may go in. The president will give you a few minutes.”
“Thank you!” I shot her a beaming smile. “I know you put in a good word for me.”
“I’m making an exception this once!” she admonished. “The president is eager to hear about your cruise.”
“I won’t ask for any more favors,” I agreed. I wouldn’t need to. After today, I wouldn’t have a job. “Thanks again. You’re the best.” You may have saved the world.
“Jessie, it’s so good to see you. I’m dying to hear about your trip.” President Erika Stadler greeted me with a warm smile and a head nod. The president did not shake hands anymore. She used to during her first term, but, perhaps as a result of all the hand pumping she’d done, she’d developed mysophobia—she’d become a germaphobe. She’d apologetically gone public after the last election to announce that she would no longer greet people with a handshake. “I admit I’m a little jealous. I’m the president, and even I haven’t been on a space cruise.” She winked.
“Oh, it wasn’t an opportunity you would have enjoyed,” I replied.
“Why? What happened? It didn’t go well? I’m so sorry. Please, sit down.”
She wore her usual navy-blue pantsuit paired with a white blouse. Her attire never varied; she always wore dark-blue pants and jacket with the same broach pinned to the lapel. The jewelry piece had been the last gift her late husband had given her. The president was a widow; her husband had died of a massive coronary during the last presidential campaign. Petty opponents looking for anything to pick on mocked her monochromatic, monotonous fashion sense. Unfazed, she dismissed the criticism, saying, “I wasn’t elected to impress the world with my clothing but dazzle them with my policies. Let’s focus on what’s important, shall we?”
We took our seats on a sofa. She looked at me with concern in her eyes. President Stadler had a reputation for being empathetic. Again, political opponents had scoffed, claiming she faked congeniality, but I’d dealt with her enough to realize she truly cared about people. The citizens seemed to know it, too; she’d won the election by a landslide. “Tell me what happened.” She leaned forward.
I inhaled a deep breath, nervous after talking to Garrison. What if the president didn’t believe me either? What would I do then? I couldn’t just continue with business as usual and ignore what I knew.
“The space cruise, which supposedly I’d won in a drawing, turned out to be a ruse perpetrated by the Copan-Cerulean slave cartel to lure New Terrans off the planet so we could be captured. An interplanetary alliance—the League of Planets—is trying to stop trafficking—but they’re hampered by bureaucracy and their own rules prohibiting contact with our planet. The embargo has isolated us, leaving us at the mercy of slavetraffickers.”
“How do you know this?”
“Because I and the rest of the Star Cross passengers were abducted off the space cruiser!”
She blinked. “You’re saying you were abducted by aliens?”
“It sounds crazy, but—”
She held up her finger. “One moment please.” She strode to her massive desk and picked up the comm handset. “Kari? Ms. Sayles and I need more time. Reschedule my next appointment and hold any calls. Put me on do-not-disturb.”
The president returned to the sofa. “Tell me everything. From the beginning.”
I laid out how the passengers and crew of the Star Cross were gassed and moved to a slave cargo ship. We’d been rescued by the king of Araset after his son, Crown Prince Aeon, who’d been captured by the cartel, had managed to get word to him. Then the League of Planets swooped in. Because of our low population, humans were on a protected species list, but everyone blamed us for the Great Nuclear War that destroyed Earth and considered us dangerous. The embargo, designed to contain but also protect us, had made us more vulnerable to threats. I added how the Star Cross passengers and crew had their memories wiped before being repatriated, but Giselle had helped me out, and Millie had slipped me her handheld.
I spoke nonstop for about twenty minutes. President Stadler just listened and nodded. I’d shared more with her than I had with Garrison because he’d kept interrupting me to debate my assertions, trying to convince me I was wrong.
“Who besides me have you told?” President Stadler asked.
“Only Garrison Keller.”
“And what did he say?”
“He didn’t believe me,” I admitted. “According to the census reports, we haven’t lost any people, except I know that’s not the case!”
“I don’t doubt you.”
“You don’t?”
“You’re levelheaded, logical, and calm, not prone to exaggeration or delusion. We know other intelligent beings exist, so what you’ve described is not out of the realm of possibility. If you say it happened, then as far as I’m concerned, it’s credible. I’m going to brief the Joint Chiefs of Staff and develop a plan on how to proceed. I will have the census retaken and the results double-checked. As our population is small and the census is precise, we can determine exactly how many individuals are on this planet. If one person is missing, the census will show it.” Garrison had pretty much said the same thing—but with a different attitude and conclusion.
“I think somebody has been cooking the census data,” I said. “I know of four people not on this planet who are listed as being present and accounted for.”
Before coming to see the president, I’d done a deep dive into the census data, looked at the records listing every living person by name. As I’d suspected, Holly, Millie, Kat, and Giselle were counted as being on New Terra.
Except they weren’t—they were on Nomoru.
“If someone has been fudging the data, we will find them. I promise you. Where is the handheld you mentioned?” the president asked.
