“He did, actually.”
“Now that surprises me. But since he did, I hope it’s obvious to you what’s really going on. Other federation species, like the one Michelle is from, have been doing exactly what Nari accused the Swarm of doing. Namely, trying to discredit the Grays—I should say Zetas—by implanting abduction events into sleeping minds. Making it harder for the Zetas to lead.”
I considered. This did make sense, but there were more fundamental matters to explore. “Getting back to the big picture,” I said, “you’re positive Nari lied about the Swarm?”
“Positive.”
“And that a different race, one you call the Benefactors, is coming instead?”
“Yes. A race Nari and the Federation call the Intruders.”
“Interesting,” I said. “So what should I infer from that? That one species’ benefactor is another’s intruder?”
“The advanced race coming our way now could be a benefactor to all species. If the Zetas would let them be. The Zetas chose the name Intruders to reinforce the ruse they’re perpetrating against the rest of the Federation. A name intended to paint this species as aggressive and dangerous, and ready to subjugate all races in our part of the galaxy. But it isn’t true. Not in the slightest. The galaxy is bloody big enough for everyone. And the Benefactors are happy to give the Federation a wide berth.”
He frowned. “Not that they should even need to. The Federation members are stagnant, with no plans to settle any of the habitable planets within their own territories. Or the many uninhabitable planets that could easily be terraformed. Or Zeta-formed. Whatever.”
“So you’re convinced they’re peaceful?” I said, continuing to pretend Tessa had never told me what she had in the alien bunker. Just thinking about her for a moment brought crippling emotional pain, which I once again pushed down.
“They are peaceful. And later today, I’ll be able to prove as much to your satisfaction. I guarantee it.”
“Yet you’re implying the Zetas are worried about them?”
“They are.”
“Why?”
“Because the Benefactors’ very existence threatens their leadership role in the Federation. They’re a better species than the Zetas in every way. Obvious leaders. So the Zetas have a plan to wipe them out. Which is where humanity comes in.”
“Hold up,” I said. “Why haven’t these Benefactors made their own case?”
“The Zetas have managed to block their attempts to communicate with the Federation. The how of it is long and complicated, so I’ll spare you that for now. But they did manage to contact us. Meaning humanity.”
“How?”
“They managed to use the quantum communication equipment that Damian Spooner and his fledgling team were using at the time. The Benefactors hacked it just long enough to implant a large file into the computer of Naval Commander Kenneth Kussmann, Spooner’s number two man. A file encrypted to stay invisible to the Zetas’ AIs.”
“Like the video footage of Tessa you sent me.”
“Exactly. The contents of the file convinced Kussmann not to trust Nari, and gave the commander the plans to build a quantum communication system of his own.”
“How long ago?” I asked.
“Twenty-four years. Only two years after Nari first contacted Colonel Spooner and he began setting up his organization. Once Kussmann had a means to communicate with the Benefactors, he continued to develop the relationship. They advised him not to risk trying to bring the colonel on board, so he faked his own death and began recruiting his own team. He was Sentinel’s founder. We now number in the thousands. Collectively, we built this facility and others.”
“Seems like a tall order, even for thousands of you.”
“It didn’t happen overnight. Once we had a system to communicate with the Benefactors, they gave us detailed instructions for creating miracle tech—which helped a lot, as you can imagine. The tech allowed us to tap nearly unlimited energy, develop anti-gravity, force fields, and so on. If you combine immensely powerful lasers, anti-gravity, advanced excavation machinery, and force fields, building a facility like this one is fairly straightforward.”
The captain smiled. “Having unlimited funding helps too,” he added. “The Benefactors gave us the technology needed to bypass security in bank computers and create accounts with any amount of money we needed.”
“And they obviously also gave you plans for the UAV that brought us here.”
“Right. But we don’t call them UAVs. Or UFOs. Or UAPs. Because these three acronyms share a common letter that doesn’t apply.”
“Right,” I said, nodding. “Unidentified. You built them, so they’re anything but unidentified.” I couldn’t help but smile as I realized that Brad still called them UAVs, even though he knew exactly what they were. “So what do you call them?”
“Zip-craft.”
I made a face. Not my favorite, but still better than UAP. And they did zip around a lot. Zip-craft was also both singular and plural. One zip-craft or ten zip-craft, no added S was needed.
“They’re built to look identical to Federation models,” continued the captain, “at least from the outside. We didn’t waste resources on fancy holographic interiors, because they aren’t meant for pleasure cruises. All of our tech is being built for one purpose only: defeating the Federation.”
“Are you saying you plan to go to war with them?” I asked in disbelief.
“That’s what I’m saying. But before you object, give me the chance to review our rationale. Show you the overwhelming evidence that the Federation—mostly the Zetas—are very bad news. You said you’d keep an open mind.”
“Believe me, I will. I am. But Nari and friends have been orbiting Saturn for decades. They could have destroyed us at their leisure. But instead, they’ve stopped us from shooting ourselves in the foot—or the head, really—a number of times.