“My memories of my conversation with Guardian are vague. There’s still so much I don’t understand, things that might make the difference between life and death.”

“But you are still convinced the Guardian’s array was designed to prevent these drones from exploding?”

“Yes.”

“Then the president’s right. If we destroy the alien vessel, we’ll end the threat.”

“I wish it was that simple.”

“Why isn’t it?” They step off the chopper onto the spongy gray deck of the carrier. Dominique points to the warship’s battery of weapons. “Look around you, Mick. There’s enough firepower aboard this ship to wipe out a small country.” She slips her arm around his waist, whispering into his ear. “Face it, you’re a hero. Against all odds you managed to enter the pyramid and activate the array. You not only vindicated your parents’ work, your efforts saved the lives of two billion people. It’s time to give yourself a break. Step aside and let the big boys finish the job.” She kisses him passionately on the lips, causing a few sailors to whistle.

A lieutenant escorts them into the superstructure, then down a tight stairwell to the hangar deck.

They pass through a heavily guarded security checkpoint, then enter the hangar bay, one-fourth of which has been hastily converted into an auditorium. A horseshoe configuration of folding chairs and tables, three rows deep, has been set up to face a podium and an enormous twenty-foot-high-by-forty-foot-long computerized map of the world, mounted high along one section of the hangar’s steel bulkhead. Thirty-eight red pinpoints of light, another six in blue, indicate the drone landing spots on the map.

The lieutenant leads them to a reserved table on the left side of the horseshoe. A few delegates seem to recognize Mick, pointing at him as he walks by, nodding. A smattering of applause quickly builds to a standing ovation.

Marvin Teperman looks up from his seat and smiles at him. “At least acknowledge them, eh?”

Mick offers a quick wave, then takes his place next to the exobiologist, feeling ridiculous. United Nations Security Council President Megan Jackson walks over and greets him with a warm smile and handshake. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr.Gabriel. We’re all indebted. Is there anything we can do for you?”

“You can tell me why I’m here. I’m not a politician.”

“The president and I had hoped your presence might ease some of the hostility in this room.” She points to a Russian delegation. “The man in the middle is Viktor Grozny. I daresay most of the people in this room would prefer him dead. The paranoia now existing between Russia and the United States makes the Cold War look like a family outing.”

She offers a motherly smile, then takes her place at the podium. “If I may call this meeting to order.”