Independence Day: Resurgence: The Official Movie Novelization (16 page)

“At this point, we have to assume Rhea Base has been destroyed,” he said. “Madam President, this could be a coordinated attack.”

David agreed that Rhea Base was probably gone. He didn’t agree, however, with Adams’s second assumption. The general was falling into the old fallacy that correlation implied causation. Nobody knew what had happened to Rhea Base. Superficial resemblances were just that, and in the absence of hard data, David didn’t intend to support a knee-jerk impulse to start shooting.

“They wouldn’t be trying to communicate if they wanted to attack us,” he insisted, raising his voice a little. President Lanford peered at him through their connection.

“What if you’re wrong?” she asked.

“And what if
you’re
wrong?” David shot back. That was the whole point—they didn’t know. How could they initiate a combat response without knowing? “We could be starting a war with a whole new species. Imagine that!”

Abruptly a different screen spawned a view of the U.N. Security Council. President Lanford must have pressed some kind of panic button to convene them so quickly. David was glad to see this. At least she wasn’t just going to listen to Tanner and Adams, who because they were military would be inclined toward a military response.

“We should be cautious and listen to Director Levinson,” the Chinese president said.

“How does the rest of the council feel?” Lanford asked.

The British prime minister was the first to respond. “Let’s hold off until we know more.”

“We need to be decisive,” the Russian president countered. “I vote to attack!”

“I also vote to strike,” the French representative added. That was unexpected. The French weren’t ordinarily given to hasty responses.

Two for attacking, two for learning more.

Lanford was the swing vote.

David saw her considering, the weight of the decision plain on her face. On the other monitor he watched the spherical ship, colors still coruscating across its surface in the pattern Catherine had identified. It was nearing the Moon. Dikembe stood back, watching the proceedings but also lost in his own thoughts, seeing his vision come to life. What did he think? He’d been in closer touch with the aliens than any of them, and he had seen this sphere a thousand times in his dreams.

If only the Republic of Umbutu had a voice on the Security Council, David thought. But he had to deal with what was. President Lanford would make the decision. All David could do was hope he had made his case compelling.

Packed into the command center with the rest of the Moon Base’s crew, Jake and Charlie shot each other a look as they waited for President Lanford to make her decision. It occurred to Jake that usually this kind of stuff took place in situation rooms, hidden away from the view of plebs like him.

On the other hand, watching politicians and diplomats argue kind of paled next to seeing a giant alien spaceship come out of a freaking wormhole from another part of the universe. He was equal parts exhilarated and terrified. If this was another alien invasion, the human race was in for a rough ride, and just thinking about it dragged Jake all the way back to when he was six years old, at summer camp, watching the fighter jets and the pillar of smoke rising from the conflagration in Los Angeles.

Maybe he was a grown man now, but that scared little boy would always be there inside of him, about to find out that his parents were dead and he would have to make his own way in the world.

Maybe this was different, though. Maybe it was different aliens, bringing not war but some kind of science-fiction paradise. If that was it, Jake was all in. He wanted jet packs. He wanted to see other planets. He wanted to teleport and do all the other stuff he’d imagined when… well, when he was that little boy who didn’t yet know that his parents were about to die.

There went his little flash of optimism.

Commander Lao was tracking the ship’s trajectory. It was definitely approaching the Moon. Not fast, but it was getting closer. Jake watched it nervously for signs of a weapon powering up. Even twenty years later, he would never forget the green of the city destroyer’s energy cannon energizing over Los Angeles.

“Madam President, I need an answer,” Lao said.

Lanford looked at the ship for a long moment before turning back to the video feed that showed David Levinson, who looked like he was in a study that could have belonged to Sherlock Holmes.

“David,” she said. “I need you to tell me with absolute certainty that this isn’t them.”

Jake knew enough about scientists to know that they could almost never answer a question that positively. There was a long pause as Levinson glanced off to the side, where Jake could see a woman and man at the edge of the frame. Both of them looked like they had a lot to say, and were trying very hard not to say it.

“I can’t do that, Madam President,” David said.

President Lanford swallowed hard. After another pause, she reached her decision.

“Take them out, Commander,” she said, her tone quiet and decisive. Maybe even a little sad.

Commander Lao turned to the cannon’s lead technician.

“Get the cannon into firing position!”

Outside, the enormous weapon swung up and over, lining up on the alien ship, which was still on a steady path approaching the Moon. The rest of the crew initiated targeting calculations. Monitor feeds from Area 51 and the Republic of Umbutu held steady, as for the first time since its inception, the armaments of the Earth Space Defense initiative were prepared for action.

“We’re locked on,” General Adams said from Area 51.

The president nodded. “Engage.”

From the Umbutu feed, Jake heard the woman pleading.

“This is a mistake! Please! They’re trying to communicate with us!”

She had a French accent, and that struck Jake as strange for some reason, though he didn’t know why. It was a weird thing to notice under the circumstances, but little details like that always stood out to him.

“This is a mistake,” Levinson said. “Let’s take a minute here to think this through—”

“Shut him off,” Secretary Tanner ordered from Area 51. Man, was that guy an asshole, Jake thought.

A second later, Levinson’s feed went black.

Outside, the Moon Base’s cannon spun up, and the familiar green light started to coalesce at the end of its barrel. Jake got a chill seeing it. Even though he knew human beings were in control, he could never see that shade of green, that particular way the energy built and intensified, without remembering the alien invasion.

That was why they had the cannon, though, and all the other ones like it that would soon be strung all the way out to Saturn, and maybe even farther than that. Humanity had taken charge of its own defense, turning the enemy’s weapons to human uses—and this was going to be the first proof that nothing like the War of ’96 would ever happen again.

“Fire!” Lao commanded.

A burst of green energy flared out and crackled across the miles between the cannon and the ship, faster than Jake’s eye could follow. It hit its target almost dead center, just above the luminescent blue line that ran around its midsection. The impact was silent in the vacuum of space, but Jake filled in the sound on his own, remembering what it had sounded like on old videos of the destroyers unleashing their weapons on Washington, D.C., New York… and Los Angeles.

The spherical ship spun out of control, tumbling and trailing bits of wreckage as it veered away over the bleak landscape of the Moon. Some of them spun down slowly to raise plumes of regolith as they hit the surface near the cannon and around the base. Others scattered behind the falling ship, which was still glowing in different-colored patterns. It disappeared over the Moon’s horizon, and a long silence held in the command center…

Then everyone burst into cheers.

It had worked! Earth Space Defense was live, and viable. The aliens couldn’t just waltz through a wormhole and flatten cities anymore. Planet Earth wasn’t to be messed with. Jake felt the pride of the occasion, and the huge relief of knowing that the next alien invasion would end in the shattered wreckage of the invading ships, instead of the burning ruins of the world’s great cities.

Cheers came over the feed from Area 51, too. General Adams leaned into the frame, raising his voice over the celebration.

“Commander Lao. Status report.”

Lao studied the initial readings coming in from the sensor arrays on the far side of the Moon.

“It crashed into the Van de Graaff Crater,” he reported. “We’re not picking up any signs of life.”

Amid the cheers, President Lanford looked somber. “Let’s hope to God we did the right thing,” she said.

Her jubilant Secretary of Defense leaned over to her with a grin Jake thought was a little… unseemly. Yeah, that was the word.

“You just guaranteed reelection,” he said jubilantly. “Let’s make a statement to the press.”

President Lanford sighed. There was an insight Jake hadn’t expected to have. The ship had barely hit the ground on the Moon, and Tanner was already doing political calculations. Lanford wasn’t like that, was she? Jake didn’t think so. She still looked worried—preoccupied with the gravity of the situation and the action she had just taken.

Then she got down to business.

“How should we handle Rhea?” she asked.

“Let’s keep it classified until the Russians notify next of kin,” Adams suggested.

There were still backslaps and handshakes and hugs all around, both on the Moon and in Area 51. Charlie had an arm around Jake’s shoulders, and even though he wished he hadn’t seen the political stuff, Jake really felt the spirit.

Yeah! They’d shot down an alien spaceship!

And it hadn’t been the fancy cowboys and cowgirls of Legacy Squadron, either, Jake thought, tossing a look over toward Dylan and Rain and the rest of them. They were sitting on the ground with him, and their fighters had never gotten out of the hangar, and the best part of it was that Jake Morrison knew that he had made this happen. If he hadn’t taken the chance to get his tug under the falling cannon and drive it back into place, the command center would be in pieces, and the cannon would still be lying in the wreckage. How would it have fired then?

He glanced over at Charlie, and saw Charlie thinking the same thing.
That’s right, partner
, Jake thought.
We did this. Without us, this doesn’t happen. And even though we’ll never get the credit, we know that it was us humble tug pilots, washouts from the big-shot pilot school, who saved the world this time.

Hell, yeah.

One of General Adams’s officers interrupted the celebration, inserting himself into the group between Adams and Tanner.

“Director Levinson is asking to be patched through.”

President Lanford nodded. They still had all the feeds live in the Moon Base command center, and a moment later Levinson reappeared. Jake thought he looked pissed, but—he wouldn’t have noticed this if he wasn’t so close to Charlie—also hungry for the new revelations the alien ship might hold.
Scientists, man.

“Madam President,” he said. “We need to send a team up to investigate the wreckage. We need to know who we just shot down.”

Tanner shook his head. “There are no signs of life. The threat has been neutralized. We can send a team up, but David needs to be in D.C.”

“Can we not make this political?” Levinson snapped. “I need to go up there and get answers! Elizabeth… please.”

“You’re talking to the president,” Tanner said in a huff at Levinson’s use of her first name. Jake wondered how long they’d known each other.

President Lanford held up a hand.

“Tanner, it’s fine. We’ll declare it a no-fly zone for the time being. David, you can lead a team up there after the celebration.”

Her decision made, President Lanford walked away out of the frame. Jake watched as Tanner, visibly gloating, leaned into the camera.

“You heard her. I want to see you next to us tomorrow, wearing your best smile. Understood?”

“You want to see my best smile?” Levinson echoed. Then his feed went black.

“Levinson?” Tanner said. He looked over at General Adams. “Did he just hang up on me?”

“That’s affirmative, sir,” Adams said. He kept his voice steady, but Jake thought he detected a little bit of satisfaction. General Adams had a reputation for being a straight shooter, a fair and careful leader who had no patience for bullies because bullies didn’t consider what was best for the unit, or the team. They cared about themselves.

Defense Secretary Tanner was exactly that kind of bully, and David Levinson had called him out on it.

Suddenly inspired, Jake realized that if Levinson really wanted to get over to Van de Graaff Crater, there was a way to make it happen. He turned and started working his way through the crowded command center toward the door. Looking puzzled, Charlie followed him.

Patricia and Agent Travis watched the coverage of the president’s announcement from Whitmore’s bedroom. Every network on Earth, it seemed, carried the announcement live.

“Today, at 11:19 central time,” she said from a hastily constructed podium outside the Area 51 command center, with the rows of cannons forming a powerful backdrop, “Earth’s Space Defense program repelled an alien attack on our planet.” She didn’t get much farther after that, as the room exploded with reporters’ questions, and the networks all cut that initial sound bite out to use it as a lead-in to their own coverage.

Patricia flipped through all the channels and landed on Fox, where the anchor recapped the president’s speech over footage of cheering crowds all over the world.

“…The president confirmed the successful use of the Moon’s defense cannon,” the anchor read, continuing to narrate over clips of what looked like a worldwide party. Times Square looked as if it was New Year’s Eve, a rippling sea of humanity celebrating human strength and the joy of knowing that they were safe from a repetition of the War of ’96. The same scene repeated itself all over the world. Red Square, Tiananmen Square, the Champ de Mars… Patricia got a little chill, remembering her father’s speech twenty years before in which he had called for human unity in the face of the alien threat.