Chapter Seven:

"Sir? Sir?"

The conference room was dark. Multiple screens flickered with horrific images. He sat still in the large, leather chair with his back to the door. A fan softly whooshed overhead. A few men stood along the walls with their hands folded before them. They mostly stared at their feet, but his eyes shined, radiating with all that he saw.

"Sir?" The young man leaned half in and half out of the room. "They're here. Do you want me to show them in?"

"Stop wasting my time, son, and get them on in here," the man said as he continued to keep his back to him. "There's no more time to waste. Understand me?"

"Yes, sir." The young man vanished a moment later. "Please, come in." He now opened the door wide, allowing the two gentlemen to enter. "Sir, may I introduce Sergeant Michael Swift and Colonel David Hendrick? Sir?"

"Everyone, out! Now!" The men along the walls reluctantly slithered out, chasing the young man away with them. "Now, you boys looking at these screens?"

"Yes, sir," they said in unison.

"What do you see?"

"Natural disasters," the sergeant replied.

"War. Famine. Death."

"That's right, colonel. It may as well be the four fucking horsemen." He pushed a button on the remote, and one image appeared on the screens before them. "And this? Do you know what this is?"

"The Dome," the sergeant said as he shifted from one foot to the other. "We did try everything, sir."

"I don't want to hear it, son, and this? This Dome?" The man finally rose from his seat. "It's the goddamn end of the world."

"Sir, it's just a Dome."

"Just a Dome, colonel. I should kick you out of this office for just saying that."

"Mr. President." He gave the sergeant an unsettling look. "We tried everything. We did. We threw everything at it, and you signed off on it. But it's a Dome. It's not the end of the world."

"Shut your mouth. Both of you." The two men before him fell silent. "I'm fixing myself a drink. A good, hard drink, and I'll fix you boys one too. Now, take a damn seat." They complied. "Do you know what the media used to say about me?" No response. "They used to joke that I was a fat, black man, who would eat his way through the White House. They loved that joke, and you know what they are saying about me now?" He shoved a drink in the sergeant's hand. "Answer me, boy."

"What do they say, sir?" He watched the colonel take his drink in hand. "What do they say?"

"Absolutely nothing. Not one damn word. You know why?"

"The Dome," and the colonel sipped his drink, making a wry face a moment later. "This is strong."

"It needs to be for this conversation." The president leaned against a large, wooden desk. "All eyes are on me, gentlemen. You tried everything? You failed, and I'm a disgrace. We have people living like ants for whatever goddamn reason, and we can't get them out." He slammed his drink down onto the desk, spilling some of its contents out especially on his hand. "And it gets worse." He wiped his hand on his pants leg, not caring that the two men before him were scrutinizing his every move.

"Worse? How could this situation get possibly worse, sir?"

"Well, colonel. I did mention the end of the world, didn't I?"

"How would you know that? We can't even talk to them."

"Don't lecture me, sergeant. Apparently, we've been hiding an alien also on U.S. soil. We've been hiding an alien for the last twenty-five years, and everything this alien is saying is coming true. We can't ignore this creature anymore especially if it, she is right."

"She," the colonel stammered. "It's a girl?"

"It's in a girl, or what was once a girl. I don't freaking know, but it's talking up a storm. And I'm worried, gentlemen. I'm very worried that it… Heather is right."

"Heather," the sergeant asked, trying not to laugh. "Its name is Heather?"

"You want to laugh at this situation, boy? Do you!" The sergeant and colonel's smiles disappeared quickly. "This isn't fucking funny, and its name isn't Heather. Heather stands for Human Energy Alien Transformative Hybrid Equation Race, or some kind of bullshit like that. A freaking egghead came up with it, and I don't care, gentlemen. I don't care except for what this Heather is saying, and if this, it, she, whatever the fuck it is, is right? We're all dead before Christmas."

"Sir? If I may?"

"Spit it out, colonel. What is it?"

"Even is this alien, Heather is right, we can't get into the Dome. There's no way. I'm sorry. There is no way."

"Not according to her." Now, he peaked their interest. "We need the Egg."

"Egg?" The sergeant glanced over at the colonel. "What Egg?"

"I don't know, sergeant, but she knows how to find it. I've read both of your files, and you both have been briefed, correct?"

"Not to this extent," the colonel responded.

"Well, I need to ask you both something." They slowly nodded. "Do you have families?" Now, they knew what he was asking. "Is there anyone here that would stop you from doing this mission?"

"I'm not married," the sergeant replied.

"Neither am I."

"So, I take that as a No?" They both nodded. "And you understand what I am saying?" They nodded again. "Then, you gentlemen, start right now. I'll have the alien transferred over to you."

"Is she… Is she dangerous?"

"Whatever you do, sergeant, never look into her eyes."

"Why?"

"Because colonel, you will go stark raving mad, or you'll die. Your choice."

"Then, why have her run this operation?"

"Because we're incompetent, colonel! Apparently, we can't save the goddamn human race. Now, sergeant." He met the president's gaze. "Get out."

"Excuse me?"

"Out. I want a private word with the colonel here."

"Yes… Yes, sir," and he slowly left the room.

"Mr. President?" The colonel waited until the door slammed closed. "What couldn't you say in front of him?"

"This. I read both of your files. I know what kind of man he is, and I know what kind of man you are not." Now, the colonel shifted in his seat. "You know what she is asking for in helping us?" The colonel slowly shook his head. "She wants the survivors of the Dome."

"Why?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. Your mission with the sergeant is simple. Do whatever she asks or needs to be done. Use extreme measures because this is our world that we are talking about saving here." He took a long swig from his glass. "Your other mission, if the first one is successful, is to eliminate her."

"Excuse me? If she succeeds in saving this world, you want me to kill her?"

"Damn it, son. Open your freaking eyes. We were attacked. They declared war on us, humans. We need her to save us. Yes, but we do not need her here afterward. They need to know how far we, we humans are willing to go, if they even think about attacking us again."

"But sir, if she is going to save us…"

"If this is coming from you, son, then I read the wrong damn file. Am I wrong about you?"

"No, sir."

"Then, I don't give a shit, if you agree with me or not. I will not have anymore aliens here especially in my country. Do you understand me?" The colonel slowly stood before him. "Do you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, get the fuck out of here, and save the world."

"Sir," and the colonel left the room.

"God help you." The president could not let them see that he was sweating badly, but they probably noticed anyway. "Got to get the old ticker to slow down." He checked his pulse. "I was ready for anything. Anything, but aliens? I can't believe this crap." He turned toward the screens behind him and stared at the Dome. "You want to destroy us? Well, boys, think again," and he pushed a button on the remote. And the screens went dark.