Battle Earth VIII (Book 8) (11 page)

"Why not? It could work."

He spoke in a strong Spanish accent. Dupont shook his head and replied.

"It's a dangerous proposition. We are looking for allies, and such a thing could turn people against their governments who would blame us for inciting any trouble which ensues."

"And?" asked Taylor. "Are we not past the point of politics and simply trying to win by any means?"

"There are always politics, Colonel. Believe me, I wish there weren't. Many times have I wished I could be in your shoes and not have to play the politics game."

"Let me do it. Not with any support, given or intended by you or any member state of the EA. Let me do it as a United States Marine, as a free man. If we can get this evidence out to the people of this world who are beyond the control and indoctrination of Krys agents, we could completely turn this around."

"And if it doesn't? What if it backfires and it sounds like crazy talk? No matter how true the evidence we have, it sounds crazy."

"I can't change the truth. I can only tell it like it is."

Dupont thought about it for a moment and looked at the other two. They both nodded in approval.

"Then do it, and let us pray the audience are as passionate and trusting as you believe."

"Thank you, this is gonna work. It’s gonna work like you could never believe."

"It's hardly the way to do things as far as diplomacy goes, but hell. Whatever we're doing now isn't gaining any more support. See my secretary on the way out. She will set you up with everything you need, including our press officer Captain Bernard."

Taylor was excited but also terrified that so much now depended on him. But this wasn't the pressure he was used to. He didn't have to succeed through combat, but through communication.

What the hell have I got myself into?

Half an hour later, he stood around a table with his own senior officers and the press officer as promised, but none of them yet knew his plan.

"Bernard, I am told you have plenty of contacts in the International press?"

"Yes, Monsieur," he replied.

"Good. I need you to get me on air, live. The US is absolutely essential, so try and get a sensible hour. We've got about seven hours until the Eastern seaboard wakes up and turns on the news. When they do, I want them to see me on screen telling it to them straight."

"And what is it you will be telling them?"

"That isn't your concern, right now."

"Begging your pardon, Colonel, but if I am to negotiate this for you, the stations will want to know why. It's a big ask."

"Then tell them Colonel Taylor of the Immortals has news the World needs to hear. That should be enough."

"That's it?"

"Has to be. We need this to be last minute. If the wrong people get wind of it, they will shut us down. I need you to get us on air quickly."

"If I may make a suggestion, Colonel."

"Sure."

"Is what you are going to say controversial?"

"Yes."

"Will governments want to block it?"

"Yes."

"And will people talk about it? Will it spread from one to another?"

"Yes, I hope so."

"Then forget the mainstream media. If you want to go viral, we can post it ourselves, and the news agencies will soon pick it up before there is any chance of shutting it down."

It was a concept he had heard of, but wasn't awfully familiar with.

"Trust me, no need to live record. You put a video together, and if it’s half as controversial as you think it is, the World will know about it before this day is over."

"All right, then I need a cameraman."

"What is the location?"

"The clone’s cell. Behind the mirrored glass so that the camera may see him, but he cannot interfere."

"And all this is cleared by General Dupont?"

"We have free rein to do whatever the hell we want."

An hour later Taylor and Jones sat in the room as planned and ready to go. Taylor knew it wasn’t being shown live, but the fact it would go out to so many so soon gave him the jitters all the same. He looked to the cameraman.

"When I say you roll, you do so until I say stop, okay?"

The man nodded in agreement.

"We're gonna put this out as is. No fancy cutting, editing, or any of that shit. This is gonna hit 'em straight."

He turned to see Jones staring at his clone. It hadn't occurred to Taylor that despite it being big news, his friend had never seen it for himself.

"Cloning? I used to read about it and thought it was fascinating. I used to joke to my mates at Sandhurst if we ever got to cloning, I would have ten of myself cloned so I'd finally have someone worth talking to."

"Wow, bet your mates really loved you."

"I think maybe the humour is lost on Americans."

"If that's what British humour is like, you can keep it."

That at least brought a smile to his face.

"If they cloned me once, how do you know they won't do it again? Maybe they already have."

"Probably. But they have played their hand and it failed. We're wise to it now."

"But how do you know I am...well me, right now?"

"I had you scanned on the way through, and I am working on getting you scanned, as well as everyone else in the Regiment every single day. God knows what possibilities there are for infiltrating us, and we cannot have it happen again."

"But do you think it's wise me staying in the unit when it is such a danger?"

"Bullshit. They could clone any one of us. I need you. The Regiment needs you. Don't tell me you're having second thoughts about fighting."

He shook his head.

"I couldn't face Coco and tell her I’d quit. I'm in this till the very end of the fighting."

"Better make that sooner rather later, okay?"

"Do my best."

"Ready when you are," said the cameraman.

Taylor knew he could have as many takes as he liked, but he didn’t have the patience for a second take. He looked to Jones who looked more comfortable with the whole thing than he did.

“I’ll do the talking. You’re just here to look pretty.”

“I always was the more handsome one.”

He looked into the cell. The clone stared into their room as if he knew they were there. “Still freaks the hell out of me to see that thing that looks like your twin.”

“Just say the word, and I’ll end its miserable life.”

“Love to, believe me. Let’s do this,” he turned to the cameraman. “Roll the camera.”

He was given the thumbs up, and for a moment he remained silent. He looked at the floor, trying to think over how he could appeal to the World’s population, and then in a moment of clarity, he just opened up and spoke his mind.

“This is Mitch Taylor, Colonel in the Inter-Allied Regiment, and hopefully still the United States Marines Corps. I currently fight for the European Alliance in a war that I know has to be fought. While some nations choose to stay out of this war, I feel it my duty to inform you, the taxpaying voting public of your respective nations, of what is truly going on here.”

He looked over to Jones who seemed fairly impressed and that spurred him on to continue.

“What you need to know is that the war currently fought in Europe is not a simple war between two Earth alliances. It is not just a human war, and I need to show you how.”

He pointed for the cameraman to pan over to Jones.

“This is my good friend and fellow officer, Captain Charlie Jones. A man who has served his country and this Earth with distinction since the first invasion, and at a massive personal cost, I must add. Captain Jones, do you have any siblings?”

“No,” he quickly replied.

“Let that be known. Captain Jones is an only child. Now can you please focus on the subject behind this screen with Captain Jones still in frame.”

He did as requested.

“The man this side of the glass is the same Charlie Jones I have known for as long as I can remember. What you see inside that cell looks identical to Jones. It shares the same genetic make up, and is for all intents and purposes the same man. And yet, the man in that cell murdered a number of staff on this base and tried to keep a very real secret from you. The aliens we thought were beaten; they weren’t beat at all. Bloodied and weakened yes, but far from beat.”

He pointed for the camera to come back to him, and the cameraman quickly obliged.

“Alien agents are among us. Human clones that are almost indistinguishable from the friends, family, and neighbours we have known our entire lives. This is not a time to become suspicious of all those around you, but to stand together. The Krys, the alien invaders, will take this world again, and they are doing so under the name of the UEN. They are fighting us from within. We tried to stop this war, but that was impossible. We have just one choice left, to win it. The United States will not choose a side, nor will many others. I am here to tell you that we don’t fight for a country; we are fighting for our planet. We fight for Earth and the existence of the human race. Your leaders may not see sense, but you can be the judge. We need fighters to fight for this world. Join us, before it is too late.”

He looked over to Jones for approval, and he nodded in response.

“All right, that’ll do.”

The cameraman cut the recording and asked, “All that really true?”

Taylor nodded in response.

“Shit.”

“That about sums it up.”

Taylor looked back to Jones. “What d’ya think?”

“Well it was corny as hell, but the yanks will love it.”

Taylor led them out of the room to where Bernard was waiting them.

"That was quick," he said in surprise.

"Easy when you know what you want to say," he replied. "As I told your man here, I don't want any fancy cuts or editing. I don't want anyone claiming the video is fake for whatever stupid reasons."

"They will anyway if it becomes popular enough."

"Well, no matter. Do your thing, whatever that is."

"Gladly."

Mitch was still dubious that anything could come of such a simple self-published video, but it required so little effort and resources, he was willing to give Bernard the benefit of the doubt.

"You've got twenty-four hours," said Taylor. "If it hasn't worked by then, we go with my plan."

Bernard was already watching the video on a screen nearby and was utterly engrossed with it. It reached the shot of the clone, and he was flabbergasted.

"I'd heard rumours about this, is it really true?"

"Unfortunately," replied Jones.

"This is going to blow peoples’ minds," he stated.

Taylor nodded and left it with him.

As they strolled out of the building into the daylight once more, Jones asked, "You know you have just incited rebellion in your own country, as well as probably countless others."

"If governments can't handle the truth, on their heads, so be it."

Jones smiled. "Viva la revolution."

 
Hours later Taylor sat about a large maintenance bay where his unit had taken shelter from the sun, awaiting their next assignment. They all accepted that leave was a thing of the past. Most were cleaning weapons and equipment, including Taylor. His rifle was new off the shelf, since his old one required extensive repairs. He stripped the new weapon to every last component part and adjusted and reassembled it to his own configuration.

A large screen projection at one end of the hall had an Earth news channel playing; a United States endorsed and funded station that acted under the guise of neutral politics, despite few knowing its true identity. Most of the day’s stories had been covering sport. It seemed bizarre while those who watched it were living in a war zone.