“It’s true,” said Nari.
“Why?”
“Because the AI had already identified you as someone we wanted to recruit. You have an inventive mind. A fertile imagination. You’re someone capable of devising complex strategies and tactics that can be effective even in an interstellar war, one involving a treacherous enemy, incomprehensible distances and energies, and novel technologies. You’re known for writing protagonists who think their way to victory, bluff or trick their way to victory, more often than they fight their way to victory.
“We need this type of outside-the-box thinking. And not just from you, but from a collection of people like you whom we’ve considered gathering. But you were the first we focused on. A test case.”
“It sounds as if I was a focus long before the AI decided I was critical to your entire effort.”
“That’s true. That came later. Initially, we targeted you because the AI concluded that even without military training, you could be of considerable value. In the near term, for a variety of reasons. And much later, prior to and during the war with the Swarm, as a master strategist.”
I shook my head in confusion. “How could I be of value in a war that won’t begin for thousands of years?”
“We can extend your life so that you stay young and healthy until long after the war begins. Or we can get you out of this system’s gravity well and put you in time stasis for whatever period is required.”
Again, things were taking a turn for the absurd. An alien had just told me I might live for thousands of years. The only problem was, I’d almost been killed on multiple occasions in the past seventy-two hours. I’d be lucky to see my next birthday, let alone the sixth millennia.
“So you see,” continued Nari, “we were hoping you could help us in the near term—and in the distant future. But only if you agreed, of course, of your own free will.”
“Free will?” I repeated in disbelief. “Really? When you’ve admitted to implanting ideas in my head while I sleep?”
“Again, raising ideas for you to consider, not forcing them upon you. We can only nudge you in a direction you already want to go, that you’re already open to. The AI saw you as doubly valuable. In the immediate future, to help us think through a possible strategy to reveal ourselves to the world. Help us to think through the fallout from such a revelation, and the fallout when your species truly understands our technological capabilities.
“You’ve thought and written extensively about this, Jason. About how humanity might handle becoming aware of aliens. How your species might handle scientific and technological revelations. You’ve specialized in writing about disruptive technologies and their impact on your civilization. You’ve taken deep dives into the pros and cons of it all. How tech can be used to bring about paradise, or misused to bring about utter destruction.”
The alien paused. “You’ve also distinguished yourself with respect to the thoroughness of your research, and the accuracy of many of your technological predictions. You’re known as being sober and thoughtful. So we wanted you to be an influencer. Along with a strategist, think-tank analyst, and possible public relations specialist.”
“Oh, is that all,” I said sarcastically.
“Actually no,” replied the alien. “You also might be the perfect spokesman to personally reveal our existence to the world. Explain what’s really going on. Once we decided it was time for full disclosure, we thought we might ask you to tell our story. Your appearance on Mark Russell’s program was a dress rehearsal in a way, and it went viral immediately. Beyond our most optimistic expectations. Which shows your credibility. People trust what you say.”
I rolled my eyes. Not anymore, I thought. At least if I failed to go back on the podcast as promised.
“Okay,” I said. “So you decided I was someone potentially worth recruiting. With some skills you thought might be useful. But why not just come to me? Why, ah . . . nudge me in my sleep to write a book starring a Swarm-like species?”
“We wanted to hone our ability to reach your subconscious mind, and this was a good way to do that. Each mind has subtle differences, and it takes some experimentation to optimize the effect. And while it was a long shot, we hoped the book would be wildly successful, be made into an iconic hit movie, and become part of the cultural zeitgeist.”
“Nice of your AI to be looking out for my career,” I said wryly. “But I still don’t get it. How would it have helped you if this particular book had become a hit?”
“An iconic fictional character paints a million words,” said Nari. “Has a life of its own, one that can span generations. Lord of The Rings and Star Trek are prime examples. So if your book spawned a movie, and so on, and became iconic, it would give humanity a clear referent when we finally revealed the truth about the Swarm. People get pop culture references immediately, and all that they entail. You just used them yourself to characterize the Swarm. You said they were part Terminator and part Borg.
“Imagine there really were a species out there identical to the Borg. If we introduced them in that way, drawing a comparison, huge numbers of you would instantly understand everything this species is about. In ways that are both visceral and comprehensive.”
I shook my head. “Then it looks like you bet on the wrong horse. Not only didn’t this novel become iconic, it was my least successful.”
“We knew it was a long shot. But if we were going to hone our ability to nudge you, at least this had a chance of helping us achieve a goal, remote as it was.”