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Authors: Albert Ball

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"George.  George, wait."  Dent turned and waited as Lincoln ran up to him.

"George, what do you mean?  What are you going to do?"  His eyes searched Dent's face.

The two walked slowly along together.  "I'm an old man Arthur.  I have tried to remain flexible in outlook, but this is one event that I have never considered and cannot possibly come to terms with."

"But we don't know what will happen next.  We need your leadership.  Who can guess whether there will be another contact and what form it might take?  It might no
t be hostile.  You have insight.  W
e need you now more than ever."  Even as he spoke Lincoln knew that Dent's mind was already made up and nothing he could say would change it.

"Please try to understand
Arthur
,
" explained Dent patiently,
"I am a very influential man.  People listen to what I say.  Up to now I have seen the way ahead.  I have known the best course of action to take and my confidence has been welcomed by a diffident public.  Now I no longer have the vision, I have had enough.  Raminski was not to blame.
H
e was just the one to crack first.  The fault lies in the human race.  I have lost all faith and trust in human nature.  I no longer want nor deserve an influential position.

"But I have watched you Arthur.  You are not easily ruffled.  You're sensible, you keep calm and are guided by what is right.  You are the one to deal with future events whatever they are.  The one last thing I can and will say to the world with confidence is this.  'Look to Arthur Lincoln.  He is the man to handle the next contact no matter what form it takes.'"

The old man took Lincoln's hand and held it warmly in both of his for a few seconds.  Then he turned and walked alone down the corridor, leaving Lincoln with nothing further that he could think of to do but watch him go, feeling as he did so a profound sense of loss and of sadness.  Sadness for Dent, broken and bitterly disappointed in his fellow man, and sadness for humanity, outwardly civilised, capable and s
ensible
, yet inwardly
mistrustful
,
unpredictable
, and desperately insecure.

Some people are driven by ambition and strive
continually
to achieve power and influence.  They seek positions with potential and cultivate relationships with those who can influence events in their favour.  Others do no more than live their lives and do their job in a responsible and conscientious manner, wanting no more than to continue their work without interference.  Fate sometimes singles out such people, placing them in key positions at critical times, positions that could never be planned, but which suit them for circumstances then unknowable.  Arthur Lincoln was such a man.  Without scheming or manoeuvring of any kind he found himself taking over from the most powerful man in the space world.  It was not a position he would ever have sought, but he
respected George Dent, and if Dent
had such confidence in him, then he would do his best.

The world was a different place now.  The burden of remorse was shared by all.  Surprisingly there was little fear of what the future held even though it would be quite reasonable for the alien race to strike in retaliation; and perhaps they had the ability to destroy the planet completely.  The overwhelming emotions were of guilt and despair.  For the first time in history the human race knew that it was not alone in the universe.  Out there were other thinking beings.  Beings who would have ended the deep and now very tangible loneliness that we knew haunted our soul.

Aliens: w
hat an impersonal
,
hostile label.  But what else could they be called?  Humanity knew nothing at all about them.  Who were they?  What were they?  What was their appearance, their history, their purpose, their knowledge?  Where was their home?  Did they see?  Did they hear?  Did they laugh?  Did they cry?  Did they love?

In a cold and hostile universe they were our brothers and sisters.  They had heard our voice and sought our company.  They had journeyed
far
to see us and to know us.

And we had destroyed them.

Lincoln's position as President of the WSA was confirmed in due course.  Dent's recommendation had carried sufficient weight to guarantee it.  Ranjit Khan as Dent's deputy should have stepped into the job but if he felt any rancour he did not show it.

There was seldom a mention now of the formerly suspected alien threat.  People seemed to feel that whatever their motives there was no justifiable reason to think that the aliens were deliberately deceiving anyone.  There had been no real foundation to humanity's suspicions other than its instinctive and irrepressible fear of the unknown.

At any other time Lincoln would have been overwhelmed by the offer of this position.  But now the heart had gone out of him.  No gain in prestige or influence could ever compensate for the loss of the alien contact.

He carried on as he thought Dent would have wished.  Research continued, projects formerly postponed were reinstated, and perhaps in time the pain would ease.

Mendeleev
observatory resumed its lonely watch on the heavens.  But here perhaps more than anywhere else the poignancy of the situation was felt.  But for their discoveries the aliens would still be alive, and still able to greet their neighbours.

Dent had vanished totally from the scene.  He had no close family and no-one knew for certain just where he had gone.  There were many rumours but none had any real support.  Lincoln often thought of him and of how he had thrown in the towel at last, betrayed by the innate fears of his own race.  It was tragic that a man who had toiled ceaselessly to bring back purpose and hope to his people should now feel that his work had not only been wasted but had been doomed to failure.  The human race was not yet mature enough to cope with life outside its own backyard.

 

***************

"Come on Dad, don't be so lazy
,"
complained William.  The sun was bathing the earth in
luxurious
warmth, the se
a was clear and inviting, over
two months had passed since the disaster, and Arthur Lincoln was happy, at least for the moment.  A week earlier Raminski had taken his life.  People had vented much of their anger and frustration in his direction.  Few men had ever been hated and scorned so fiercely.  It was unjust.  He had done what he thought was right, and who could say for certain, perhaps he was right.  Lincoln remembered him with pity.  He knew that there were many who would have done exactly the same but they were not to be found now, they joined with everyone else in condemning him.

It was not known whether Raminski ever knew what hatred was felt for him, his mind had been damaged and perhaps it was better that way.  Whatever pain had driven him to suicide would probably never be known.  If he had lived just one more week perhaps the world would begin to forgive, and perhaps he could have found a basis for recovery.

"Do you want to eat now or later?"
a
sked Emma
,
sorting out the picnic basket.
Lincoln opened one eye.  "Can't a man relax once in a while without constant demands and questions
?"
he snapped in mock annoyance.

"No you can't
!
"
declared David emphatically as he
grabbed an arm and dragged his d
ad to his feet.

"We'd better eat later
,"
suggested Lincoln
,
giving up the attempt to relax.

"All right come on then
,"
he shouted in a sudden burst of energy, and kicked the football between
W
illiam's
legs then raced off down the beach with it, the boys in hot pursuit.  Emma smiled.  Her husband needed a break.  He had taken the disaster very hard.  She knew he felt that he could have done or said something to dissuade Raminski from his misguided plan.  She had been worried and frightened.  Arthur had brooded, been irritable and immersed himself in his work.  He had completely changed from the man she used to know.  He seemed to have no time at all for his family, but now he was much more like his old self again.

This was the first day's leave he had allowed himself since taking over the Presidency.  A bit less work and a bit more play would benefit him immeasurably thought his wife.  She was resolved to repeat the treatment as often as possible.  She knew that if only he could regain his former spirit they would enjoy life as never before.  They had rented a luxury bungalow a few kilometres south of Cairns city and to Emma it was a dream home.  The boys were settling in well at their new school
, she was enjoying the challenges of a new
part-time
post
at
the WSA,
and the climate was wonderful.  She could take no pleasure in any of it though while her husband remained in his own private hell.  She had even begun to think that things had been better when he was on the moon.  At least then she could look forward to his home leave and had been close to her family in St Andrews.

She had determined to bring things to a head so she suggested that she and the boys return to Scotland so that he could work without any distractions.  It had been a bluff but it worked.  Lincoln had been visibly shaken.  He took a long hard look at himself and they talked together until the early hours.  It had been their first proper communication since the disaster.

That had been five days ago.  Since then Lincoln had made a determined effort to extricate himself from his mental torment and with his wife's help was making good progress.  Today felt like a real milestone.  They were a family again, and she felt sure that it marked a real turning point.

The beach was secluded and empty.  Busily she rooted out packs of sandwiches, cakes, plates and cutlery and arranged a tempting spr
ead on the picnic table bought
specially for today.

"Come and get it
,"
she called, waving a fork in the air to emphasise the message.  The hungry trio came racing back and arrived gasping for breath.  Lincoln took out a paper handkerchief and mopped the perspiration from his face.

"I said you needed more exercise
,"
chided his wife affectionately, "but you can overdo it."  She walked back to the car to get the stove for coffee.  Another car could be seen by its dust trail in the distance, and it was approaching at some speed.  'Keep on going
,'
willed
Emma;
she did not want any company just now.  She was disappointed when it became clear that the car was indeed going to stop near them.  She was enraged when a man jumped out and ran towards them shouting for her husband.

"Of all the days for this to happen
,"
she complained bitterly, "they can't manage without you for a single day."  She was angry and didn't care who knew it.

"Doctor Lincoln
,"
shouted the intruder excitedly.  Lincoln watched as he approached, surprised at the urgency in his voice.

"Doctor Lincoln
,"
he repeated breathlessly, "something's cropped up.  You're needed urgently back at HQ."

"I just don't believe it
,"
said Emma, "this is the first break my hu
sband has had since.
.." 

"It's OK
,"
broke in Lincoln, "you keep the car, stay here with the boys and I'll see you back at the bungalow later."  He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and then followed the messenger back to the waiting car.

"We just might not go back at all
,"
she
called after him angrily.

"What's happened
?"
asked Lincoln when they were under way.

"I don't know
,"
replied the messenger, "but it has a top secret classification so it's big."

The return journey seemed endless.  Lincoln's imagination was working overtime trying to guess what could possibly have happened to warrant such a fuss.  Once back at the WSA he ran up the steps and made towards the elevators.  Unluckily it was his turn to be caught by the random selector and he began to share Dent's former frustration at this annoying ritual.  Palm on scanner, wait half a second... Lincoln, Arthur Raymond, President WSA, Unlimited Clearance
,'
the machine displayed.  Even now he still felt a hint of self-consciousness at seeing his new title, perhaps he would get used to it in time.  He dashed into his suite where Ranjit Khan was waiting for him.  "Sit down Arthur and take a deep breath."  Lincoln did just that, and
waited
,
his curiosity near to bursting point.  "We've just had word from Tony Naganda that one of his military radar platforms has detected an object approaching earth from the
general direction of Procyon."

Lincoln's heart was in his throat.  He didn't know what to think, a thousand questions welled up in his mind.  Was it debris?  Was it still manned by the aliens?  Was it functioning
?
And
if so how badly damaged was it?  "How far away is it
?"
he asked.

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