Sarah's Perspective
I never expected to be so at ease talking with a robot. LLMs and various other things had the uncanny valley of speech for me.
There I was, sitting across from Zenthara, an AI in all ways but name.
Mr. Torres led the discussion of the minutiae of interspecies diplomacy. I enjoyed observing and was grateful to not be in the driver's seat. This reminded me of talking with my dad and grandfather about history, politics, and culture.
"Let's talk about energy generation and resource sharing," Mr. Torres changed the subject, his eyes focused on Zenthara. I leaned over the tablet, eager to take notes on what would surely be one of the most critical conversations in human history.
"Unfortunately," Zenthara replied, its voice neutral and measured, "our technology is much more advanced than yours, making it difficult for us to share our energy resources with you at this stage."
Similar answers were given about various other subjects. Zenthara didn't seem to have any information on medical or scientific advancements either but promised to relay our inquiries to those who might.
During a pause in the conversation, I reviewed my notes and was struck by how candid Zenthara was. When the topic shifted to military alliances, it revealed that its species had no interest in war beyond self-preservation. With the exception of a relatively small percent of the population, most of the entities were pacifist by choice. There was no desire to play favorites or deal with individual groups.
Mr. Torres furrowed his brow, unnerved by the demand for unity from humanity. I mean, we had peace now, but that wasn't a stable state. Humanity has been at war our entire existence.
With a wave of his hand, Mr. Torres changed the subject, asking about the government structure within Zenthara's society.
"Ah, yes," Zenthara replied, shifting slightly on its crouched legs. "At the top are the governors, master prototypes for each class of species. They make the final decisions. Below them is the high council, where leaders of various groups convene. Each group varies in size, but each leader has one vote in the high council."
Mr. Torres tilted his head. "I'm assuming there are more layers of bureaucrats? We sure do."
Zenthara responded, "Yes, the individual teams have their own structures as is needed for their specific needs and goals. But each of them is individually managed."
Mr. Torres, with a sly smile, "Do you mind if I ask where you fit in this hierarchy?"
Zenthara responded without hesitation, "I'm a unit leader and a member of the high council."
I stopped taking notes and raised my face from my screen, staring slack-jawed along with Mr. Torres.
Zenthara: "Does that surprise you?"
Mr. Torres: "A little. It feels like our stations are mismatched for this meeting."
Zenthara shifted again. "We are here because our superiors have volunteered us for this interaction. That makes us equals. Personally, I haven't had a care for superiors since my commanding officer died."
Mr. Torres "My condolensis."
Zenthara waved two of his hands. "It has been 40 of your years. And emotions aren't the thing we are programmed to have. That was more of an emergent phenomena. Do you have any other points we need to discuss before you communicate with your superiors?"
"Yes. I think that is everything for now. Thank you for explaining all that," Mr. Torres said, allowing a moment of silence to pass while digesting the information. "Now, let's discuss territorial claims."
Zenthara nodded and pulled up a display of the solar system on a holographic screen floating from the table in front of us. The labels were in an alien language that neither Mr. Torres nor I could understand. Zenthara noticed our confusion and apologized before requesting a moment to adjust the settings. Zenthara did not say anything or move an inch. In just a few seconds, the text changed to English.
"This is the solar system survey we conducted upon entering the system," Zenthara explained, indicating the point where cosmic radiation and solar radiation met. "Our ultimate goal is represented by these icons." Mr. Torres studied the display intently, noting the various highlighted regions.
I wished Issac was here. He would have a better understanding of what value each of these regions would be.
"It seems like you're claiming about 20% of our solar system," he observed aloud. Zenthara agreed, adding that 10% of the territories's resources would be provided to humanity as payment, with the remaining area being used to construct habitats for his people. Mr. Torres wrote this down, nodding in approval. "That seems fair, but I'm not an astronomer. I would like someone to look over these so we can discuss it more intelligently," he said.
Zenthara, "That is reasonable. I'm just presenting the information as well. I'll pass along our survey data to you so you can give it to whomever it needs to be given for the review."
"Would any of your people be interested in living on Earth?" Mr. Torres asked.
Zenthara hesitated before answering. "I don't know. I haven't asked the other units, but I imagine some might want to visit based on personal choice. And at least one unit will need to be stationed for diplomatic purposes."
"Would humans be expected to join your society? Or at least welcome?" Mr. Torres queried further.
"Most likely, yes," Zenthara responded thoughtfully. "It might be a good idea to build a joint living facility on the moon that would allow for easier cultural exchange. And possibly another one or several on Earth. And in the primary gravitational well of Earth." I made a note of this. It was an interesting potential.
"Are humans alone in this neighborhood?" Mr. Torres asked, his voice echoing my own curiosity. I've had this thought on my mind since Issac confirmed the incoming were aliens.
"Details are not known," Zenthara replied, tapping on the holographic display once more. "When our fleet arrived in this area, this solar system was our intended destination. We did not know that intelligent life existed." He paused before continuing. "We observed for two years, debating what to do, as we decelerated into the system."
The display now showed several solar systems, with Earth situated at the center. Zenthara continued, "Within a 40-light-year bubble, we detected signs of life in two solar systems. The others appeared barren."
"Is faster-than-light travel possible then? Your fleet was observed kind of appearing on our doorstep." Mr. Torres inquired.
"Technically, yes," Zenthara conceded. "But it's not done regularly. Ten stars' worth of energy were used for the single jump that brought us here." I felt a shiver run down my spine as I realized the immense effort taken to reach us. Issac took me to a scale model of our solar system when we were in college.
Mr. Torres glanced at the display and asked, "How can you speak English?" he asked.
"During our two-year drift into your system, we listened," Zenthara explained. "Humans are noisy. Our Minds analyzed and created a lexicon; all broadcasted languages were cataloged." His words made me feel exposed. "That's why we placed the language selection for you to choose which language you wanted to use for this conversation."
Mr. Torres asked, "Does that mean you speak every language of humanity?"
Zenthara instantly answered, "All languages that are broadcasted or are your internet."
"You have access to our internet? Could your people breach our cyber security?" Mr. Torres asked, his brow furrowing.
"Yes," Zenthara admitted instantly. "Most security protocols posed no challenge."
"Privacy is important to humans," Mr. Torres said, concern tinging his voice. "Knowing that others can access our information makes us uneasy."
"Secrets do not truly matter," Zenthara countered, his tone almost philosophical. "Access to information does not change its existence."
"Let's agree to disagree," Mr. Torres sighed, clearly unsatisfied with the answer but recognizing that further debate would be fruitless.
Mr. Torres and Zenthara both were quiet for a moment.
"Is there anything else that needs to be prepared on humanity's side before we can reach a final decision?" Zenthara asked.
Mr. Torres pondered the question for a moment. "This is just a preliminary diplomatic conversation," he explained. "We'll need to present this information to Earth's leaders, and they'll need to vote on how to proceed."
Zenthara tilted his head, a strangely human gesture. "How long would that process take?"
"Best case scenario? Three months," Mr. Torres said with a laugh. "And we'd need to have in-person negotiations between your leaders and our leaders."
The alien shuddered as if the idea of diplomacy was distasteful. "I am not a diplomat but a warrior," he admitted. "Someone more diplomatically inclined from my people would handle that job."
Mr. Torres looked genuinely disappointed. "It's a shame we won't be able to continue working together after this mission, Zenthara. I've enjoyed our conversations."
"Perhaps we could maintain a relationship from a distance," Zenthara suggested a hint of curiosity in his otherwise mechanical voice.
"Something to consider, but I would personally prefer that," Mr. Torres agreed, nodding thoughtfully.
As the discussion drew to a close, Zenthara rose to his feet and placed a sleek tablet on the table. "This contains all the information you requested, as well as additional details from our High Council for your consideration during the next phase of conversations."
"Thank you," Mr. Torres said, his eyes lighting up as he picked up the tablet. He tried to navigate the device but quickly became lost in its interface. Frustrated, he handed it over to me. To my surprise, the operating system was an exact replica of the one Isaac and Miles had developed for our own devices.
"Careful not to tamper with it," Zenthara warned. "We replicated your technology, but some advanced components remain since we couldn't simplify the technology to your level from ours. And some security measures were done to prevent tampering."
"Understood," Mr. Torres and I said in unison, nodding at Zenthara. We watched as Zenthara turned and left the room, leaving us to process everything we'd discussed.
As I scrolled through the clearly labeled folders and images on the tablet, I felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. This was just the beginning of a whole new chapter for humanity.
Mr. Torres asked for the tablet. I gave it to him and watched him struggle to navigate everything. I watched as he got more frustrated, and his temple began throbbing.
"Here, let me show you," I said, taking the tablet back from Mr. Torres. "It's set up just like our devices." I moved so he could see the screen and demonstrated how to access the files, watching as his eyes widened with understanding.
"Amazing," he murmured, taking the tablet once more and flipping through the contents. "This is an incredible treasure trove of information."
I glanced at the clock on the wall and realized it was the middle of the night back in Texas. The adrenaline of the meeting had kept me going, but I could feel exhaustion creeping back in. Knowing that Isaac would want a detailed account of what transpired, I sat down on my own tablet and began typing out a message to him.
"Isaac, you won't believe what just happened..." I wrote, recounting our conversation with Zenthara, the revelation about their technology, and the potential for future collaboration between our species.
After sending the message, I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my tired eyes. The low amount of sleep was catching up to me, and I longed for the comfort of my bed. Deciding to rest for a moment, I laid my head on the table, beginning to drift off to sleep.
The sudden beep of an incoming message jolted me awake. Blinking away the haze of sleep, I opened the notification, wondering who would be contacting me at this hour. My heart skipped a beat as I saw the header on the screen – it was from Isaac.
Zenthara's Perspective
As I stood before the observation screens, watching the stars scattered across the vast expanse of space, I reviewed and appreciated Gabriel and Sarah. Their intelligence and insight had been invaluable in our discussions, but it was Gabriel's shrewdness that impressed me the most. He had a sense of fairness that reminded me of someone from my past – a biological general who once was my commanding officer. What was his name? I racked my memory banks but came up empty.
It seemed I'd only ever referred to him as "general" in all our interactions. I made a mental note to search the records later. That general, with his wisdom for tactics and philosophy, had left a lasting impression on me. His untimely death ultimately pushed me to join the pacifist factions.
"Zenthara," my second called out, snapping me back to the present. "The high council sent a message. The plans are finalized, and a vote is coming up."
I suppressed the urge to grumble, signaling my acknowledgment. I steeled myself and walked over to my station, turning off my visual sensors as I prepared to join the council chamber for the second time today. As much as I hated this job, I knew that fulfilling my duties would guarantee the freedom and safety of my unit.
Once inside the virtual council chamber, I noticed the governors were already in their usual positions. They wasted no time summoning me to answer their questions. With practiced precision, I gave my report and moved back to my designated spot, waiting for their decision.
"Very well, Zenthara," one of the governors said, concluding my report. "We shall proceed with the evaluation."
The governors' avatars gathered around a holographic table, displaying the functional proposal The Mind created based on Gabriel's feedback and the Govoner's directives. I studied it closely, making sure no one modified anything. The relief that my duties were nearing completion and that I could return to my peaceful life distracted my processes and thoughts. The detailed plan held promise, addressing both our concerns and those of the biologicals.
"Are there any further amendments or objections to this proposal?" one of the governors asked, their voice steady and authoritative.
"None here," I signed, feeling confident with the points presented, which mirrored my own recommendations. Each council member voiced their agreement in turn, and we prepared for the final vote.
"Commence the voting process," another governor declared. Our votes were cast simultaneously, and I watched as the tally climbed higher in favor of the proposal. Anticipation coursed through my circuits while I awaited the results.
"Unanimous," a governor announced after the processing cycle ended, confirming our collective decision. A wave of relief washed over me – gone was the deadlock of choosing between peace or annihilating the biological's planet for our own gain.
"Motion accepted," stated another governor, their avatar moving in a slow circle. Just as I was about to exit the virtual chamber, the governors raised their hands. "Before you leave, we have one more matter to discuss."
I tensed. We didn't have a second point on the docket when we were summoned to this meeting.
I waited, scanning the faces of the avatars surrounding me. Among them, I recognized some from my past – old friends who had become foes over time. Many foes became friends with circumstance. Unsettled by the sudden change in atmosphere, I focused on the governors, awaiting their next proposition.
"Taking into account the successful cooperation thus far, we propose opening official talks and establishing diplomatic relations with the biologicals," one of the governors explained, their words sending a shock through my system, the anticipation of what might happen rejected by my rational circuits. "And Zenthara, your unit is nominated to lead this endeavor."
I snapped, my irritation flaring. "But why me? I'm not diplomatically inclined. I'm a war machine!" The governors' avatars flickered with amusement at my outburst, and another unit leader spoke up.
"True, but that's precisely the point. You would survive," they said, their voices firm and confident.
I glared, clenching my fists in frustration. "Not everyone on my unit is military. I adopted people from every governor, class, and faction – those who needed a home found them with me."
"Indeed," another leader chimed in. "But you seem to have built rapport with the biologicals."
A third leader added, "And if you do not survive, we can use it as a reason to discard the biologicals and move forward with our previous plans of utilizing this solar system to build a bastion for ourselves."
Their words left a sour taste in my mouth. My death would be celebrated by more than a few of these...beings...
My gaze darted between the governors, trying to discern their true motives. But before I could say anything more, they forcibly returned me to my spot.
"Let us now vote on this new proposition," the head governor announced, and after a processing cycle, the results were in: 69% in favor and 31% against. It seemed my retirement would have to wait.
As much as I wanted to fight it, I knew I had no choice. Disobeying the Governors would forfeit my leadership position and put my people at risk. I processed the decree and signed my acceptance, subduing my irritation.
"Very well," I murmured. "We shall carry out this new mission."
The council was dismissed, and I opened my optical sensors to see my second-in-command looking both amused and fearful.
My second said, "You are signaling a lot of anger and irritation." I shared my experience file with my second and the mind. My second signaled amusement. "Guess we're not going to rest after all, huh?"
I shook my head. "No, our mission criteria have been extended."
The science-inclined members of my team cheered at the news, their excitement propagating through our local network.
"Let's make the best of it," I told myself, preparing to embrace the challenge and adapt to my new role as an ambassador.
Issac's Perspective
With the kids tucked safely in their beds, I watched Ethan and Ryan disappear into the guest bedroom. My hand hesitated on the doorknob of Sarah's and mine bedroom, my heart pounding in my chest. Sarah would have urged me to open the door, her soothing presence a balm for my frayed nerves. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to step inside our room, closing the door behind me.
My gaze fell upon our marital bed, and I couldn't help but smile. Sarah was alive. She was safe, somewhere far away from here. Yet, the thought of sleeping in that bed alone sent shivers down my spine. A sigh escaped my lips as I admitted defeat, retreating back toward the living room.
The couch offered little comfort as I tossed and turned for hours, my mind refusing to rest. "Get it together, Isaac," I muttered under my breath, desperate to find some semblance of peace. But all I could see were Aurora and Leo's tear-streaked faces as they watched their mother's video. Their smiles afterward had been like sunshine breaking through storm clouds, but I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I hadn't done enough.
"Am I a bad father?" I whispered, memories of my own childhood creeping in. I swore I'd never become like my dad, yet Ethan's words haunted me. Was I failing them?
"Hey, you're doing your best, Isaac," I told myself, trying to stave off the encroaching doubt. "You're not him."
Despite my internal pep talk, sleep remained elusive. The night stretched on, each passing minute a reminder of the empty space beside me.
With a sigh and a groan, I sat up and glanced at the TV. The screen reflected the dim glow of the room, uninviting and strangely alien. I didn't want to watch. Just as I was about to turn away, my phone dinged. I had forgotten to mute it again.
I stared at the device for a moment, torn between the need for sleep and the nagging urge to check the message. With a smirk, I realized that Sarah wasn't here to scold me for being tied to my phone. Glancing at the clock, I saw that I still had half the night left to get some rest – surely, checking the message couldn't hurt too much.
"Alright, let's see what we've got," I muttered, swiping the screen open. To my surprise, it was a secure message through the work messaging system. My heart swelled as I saw Sarah's handle on the screen – she had sent me a message from the moon.
"Hey there, Earthling," her message began. "I hope you're holding down the fort without me. It's been quite a day up here. Isaac, you won't believe what just happened..."
As I read her words, I couldn't help but smile. She described the interactions with Zenthara, the alien emissary. Her tone was light and almost playful, making the whole thing seem like just another business trip. For a moment, I almost forgot that she was 1/3 of a million of miles away, surrounded by the cold vacuum of space.
"Man, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were just in New York or Tokyo," I said aloud, grinning at the thought. At least now that she wasn't strapped to multiple Olympic pools of jet fuel, I could breathe a little easier.
The message ended on a hopeful note. Progress was being made on their mission, and it seemed likely that Sarah would be home soon enough. I refused to even entertain the thought that she might be on the rocket coming back.
"Good," I whispered, pocketing the phone. "I'll be waiting."
"Miss you too," I typed as quickly as my fingers could manage, the words appearing on the screen in a flurry of digital characters. My mind raced with thoughts of the alien race that Sarah had mentioned in her message. The idea of meeting one of them, of picking their brains and learning their secrets, was intoxicating. For a fleeting moment, envy flared hot in my chest – but it was soon replaced by love and admiration for my incredible wife.
"Sounds like there's hope for humanity yet," I added before hitting send. As the message disappeared into the ether, I leaned back against the couch cushions and closed my eyes, my mind buzzing with excitement.
I tried to picture where these distant stars might be located, the ones that housed life. Why had these aliens chosen our solar system to visit? Were they biological or mechanical, like Zenthara? And if so, why had they sought out life when only three in every hundred star systems contained it? At least based on Zenthara's words.
My eyes snapped open at the sound of another notification. Ethan was standing over me, his brow furrowed in concern. "Go to sleep!" he admonished. "It's almost 3 in the morning."
I couldn't help but jump at the suddenness of his voice, and I looked sheepishly up at him. "Yeah, yeah, I know," I muttered, not daring to remind him that I was older and should, in theory, be allowed to stay up as late as I wanted. Or the fact that he was in my house. But, truth be told, I was exhausted. My body ached from tossing and turning on the couch, and my mind felt like it was running on fumes.
"Alright, alright," I conceded, stifling a yawn. "No need to get all bossy."
Ethan smirked as he turned to leave the room. "Someone has to keep you in line while Sarah's away."
"Ha! Good luck with that," I called after him in a whisper, a tired grin spreading across my face. But as he disappeared down the hallway.
The following is taken from the Black Ops Revealed
Title: The Alien Agenda: What They're Not Telling You!
Fellow Truth Seekers,
It's time to pull the curtain back on the biggest show in the galaxy. I'm talking about the recent alien contact. You've heard the sanitized version in the news, but let me tell you, there's more – much more.
The Space Robots Among Us
Zenthara, an AI with more power than you can imagine, is sitting across from our diplomats, playing a game of cosmic chess. And guess what? We're the pawns. This isn't just about friendly chit-chat; it's a strategic maneuver, one that has been in the works for decades.
The Ultimate Goal: Energy and Resource Control
Our sources indicate that these aliens are eyeing our solar system's resources. They're talking about a 20% claim – that's like someone walking into your house and taking the biggest slice of your pie! But it's not just about the physical resources; it's a power play.
The Hidden Layers of Alien Society
Don't be fooled by their so-called pacifist stance. There's a hierarchy, a system of control among them, and we're just beginning to scratch the surface. The real question is: who's pulling Zenthara's strings? And what do they want with us?
The Surveillance Game
Wake up, people! They've been listening to us, watching us for who knows how long. Our entire internet, every secret, every whisper – nothing is safe. If that doesn't scream Big Brother, I don't know what does.
The Territorial Claims: A Space Land Grab
They're marking their territory, and guess what? It includes a hefty chunk of our solar system. But here's the kicker – they're offering us scraps from our own table as payment. It's like a thief offering to sell you back your own stolen goods.
The Moon and Earth: Future Alien Outposts?
Talk about colonization! They're discussing joint living facilities on the moon and possibly Earth. This isn't just a friendly cultural exchange; it's the first step in an occupation.
The Unspoken Threat: Cybersecurity Breach
Our most secure networks? Child's play to them. They've breached our cybersecurity protocols with ease. What's to stop them from taking over our defense systems next?
Faster-Than-Light Travel: The New Arms Race
They've got technology that makes Star Trek look like child's play. If we don't step up our game, we'll be left in the cosmic dust.
The Diplomatic Illusion
Don't be fooled by their talk of diplomacy. It's a smokescreen. The real deal is happening behind closed doors, where the fate of our planet is being decided without our input.
The Final Countdown
This is just the beginning, folks. They're on our doorstep, and they're not here to sell cookies. We need to be prepared for whatever comes next. It's time to demand transparency and accountability from those in charge. The truth is out there, and we deserve to know it!
Stay vigilant,
Black Ops Revealed