“My little man is going to Washington! I’m proud of you! Give ‘em hell, honey!” Mrs. Vandcamp said. Then she added, “Come here, let me hug you!” And they hugged each other with love.
“Mom, I’ll be back soon. I’m not going to the moon!” her son cried out. He smiled, kissed her mother on her cheek and took his luggage and walked towards the taxi while his mother was staring at him with her watery eyes, since she was sad for her son. But he let her feel proud of him, too.
Michael had just got on the plane that would take him to Washington. It would take only few minutes. The plane had an elongated shape and its wings were relatively small. Two electric engines were ready to thrust it supersonically, which was usual at that time. The motto of the air carrier stood out on both sides: The world in less than one hour. He boarded the silver plane whose inside was white and Havana-brown and took his seat. Then he sat down in the lavish seat made of synthetic material, which does not mean poor quality, and thought.
“Why the hell am I doing this?” he wondered in a low tone of voice. The passenger who was sitting next to him was attracted by his voice.
“Is it your first time on a Jet Line?” he was asked by José, who was a man of Hispanic origin. Michael turned slowly towards the man who was in his fifties and slightly overweight.
“No, it isn’t the first time!” the man answered lazily.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m José! I hope I’ll enjoy my journey with you,” the man said to Michael, who stared at him for a few seconds.
“José, huh? I’m Michael. Let me tell you something. I haven’t slept for two nights or something. And to add insult to injury, they’ve run out of whiskey at the bar in the airport, I’ve got on board this plane even if I didn’t want to, and I’ve settled myself into this seat on a plane, and now I’m sitting next to a man I’ve never seen in my life and that is already unbearable to me. It’s going to be a nice trip, you’ll see...”
The ex-Marine turned to the porthole and cried out, “The fucking rudeness people have!”
Washington D.C.
Some hours later, Jerry got off the taxi. He had got on the taxi at the airport of Dulles and was dropped off a few hundred feet away from the seat of New NASA Corporate. The building was wonderful. The way it shone thanks to its large glass windows made it look like a crystal; after admiring it for a while, Jerry walked towards its entrance. Emily arrived unexpectedly. She was in her civilian clothes. She was wearing a black coat and a pair of dark blue trousers. They both came close to the entrance and were embarrassed as usual since they did not know who would go first. So, Jerry decided to let her go first.
“Please… ladies first,” the biologist said. Then he smiled.
“Oh, a gentleman! I thought they had died out,” Emily answered sarcastically. After an exchange of smiles and gazes, they entered the structure and everybody went their own ways.
Jerry glanced at Emily for a last time. She was going away. He pulled out his smartphone to see if any emails had been sent to him from his workplace. He walked without looking around and, even if he was walking slowly, he collided with a man, dropping his trolley and some belongings.
“Oops, I’m sorry. I’m terribly sorry! I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t paying attention,” Jerry mumbled quickly as he tried to pick up the man’s things.
“Obviously! Watch where you’re going, boy! You could hurt yourself or hurt other people!” Michael exclaimed. His tone was a bit harsh, but as soon as he saw how much the young biologist was awkward while picking up the things, especially the letter from NASA that had also fallen to the ground, he was impressed with how Jerry looked frozen to see that he was there to attend the lecture, too.
“Give it to me, boy! Are you here, too, because of that stupid farce, huh?” Michael asked him abruptly.
“How do you know that?” Jerry asked promptly.
“The way you’ve looked at that letter…,” the ex-pilot answered. Suddenly a voice from some glass sheets that served as speakers interrupted him and made them vibrate by one acoustically induced vibration.
“Guests are invited to the pavilion 3. The lecture starts in fifteen minutes. Thank you!” the female voice that sounded almost metallic informed.
“Did you hear? We have to go! Take your seat and… good luck!” Michael said, addressing a frozen Jerry that stood there for a while before coming round and walking towards the pavilion.
At the entrance of the pavilion, David met two stewards who asked for his invitation letter. The engineer from Montana slid his hand in his coat pocket, and then he pulled out the letter and handed it over to one of them.
“Please sit down. Your seat is number 1367. You’ll have to go that way to reach it,” the supervisor told him after scanning David’s letter and checking his seat.
“Excellent! Is this a concert? There are so many people!” he exclaimed while he was taking a look around one more time. He noticed that hundreds of people were taking their seats in what looked like an ancient semicircle-shaped theater with so many rings facing the stage over which a giant screen stood out.
At the same moment, behind the scenes, while the audience was taking its seat, two men were drinking what looked like excellent liquor, even if they were expensive.
“Here you are. Try this one, Matthew. I can assure you that it is the best scotch you’ve ever tasted,” Ferdinand Piquet said. He was the President of the United States of America at that time. While handing the glass with two drops of scotch, he leaned his other hand on a three-star General’s shoulder, that’s Lieutenant-General Matthew Ross, who took up the glass and drank a gulp. His expression proved that the liquor he was given by the President was to his satisfaction.
“What’s the matter with you, Matthew? All those wars fought and won… and now… is a lecture enough to leave you speechless? Come on, my friend! Don’t worry! Everything will be alright!” the head of the State exclaimed and he gave Matthew some pats on the back.
“Sir, the time has come! They all have taken their own seats. It’s time to go!” one of the members of the personnel said.
“I’ll come!” the President exclaimed.
“Matthew… you know… this is the dawn of a new era. Let it start in the best possible way!” Piquet kept on saying in a low tone of voice as if he were whispering close to Matthew. Then he went behind the stage. The Lieutenant-General was left alone with his own drink.
All the guests had taken their own seats. The lights in the hall dimmed and the spotlight turned on in the middle of the stage.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the President of the United States of America, Mr. Ferdinand Piquet that is going to introduce the lecture!” the speaker announced. So the President took his own place on stage behind a microphone.
“Good evening, everyone, and welcome!” he exclaimed. His words broke the silence and the guests applauded.
“First of all, I must thank you all for accepting our invitation. I must tell you that in our European branch in Copenhagen and in the Asian branch in Shanghai the same meeting is taking place. We are going to discuss a problem that has been affecting us for a long time.”
While the President was uttering these words, the audience’s gazes were getting more and more perplexed, even if there was some curiosity in them.
“You should already know that our planet has entered the zone that we have named ‘RED’, due to its serious threat to the whole terrestrial ecosystem. But before you get alarmed or become upset, I need to give the floor to the one who knows facts better than me and, therefore, is going to show you anything. Ladies and gentlemen please welcome Lieutenant-General Matthew Ross!” the American President said finally, and then he gave him the floor on stage.
“They