Independence Day: Crucible (The Official Prequel) by Greg Keyes Read Free Book Online Page A

over, this ‘aid’ won’t stay here and continue to ‘help’ us? I know the lessons of colonialism, son. We can—and will—do this ourselves. And you, I think, will start as a colonel.”
    “Papa,” he said, “don’t you think that will anger those who have earned their ranks?”
    His father regarded him silently for a moment. He cut the end from a cigar and lit it with a pocket lighter, then took a puff. For a long moment he remained silent.
    “It’s no secret I was unhappy with your choice of studies,” he said. “I did not ask that you become a military man, like me, only that you bring some contribution to our country. You could have been a scientist, an engineer, a city planner—a physician. Not so far from here, there is a spacecraft from another world. They came here to kill us all, and they are still trying. But they also have advanced technology, weapons of great power. Some sort of alien plant is breeding at incredible speed, displacing our native species. Do you have the faintest idea how useful it would be to have a scientist or an engineer standing before me right now? Instead I have a… a
scribbler
. Can you paint our enemies away, Dikembe?”
    “I could not plan my life for an event that no one could have foreseen,” Dikembe said.
    “Yes,” his father said. “You could have. So much of what happens in the world is unforeseen. That very fact requires us to have skills of universal usefulness.”
    “Humanity is bettered by art,” Dikembe said.
    “That is an argument of the elite,” his father snapped. “Go ask a poor villager, whose children have died from drinking polluted water, what use the Mona Lisa is. Ask the survivors who lost entire families in the cities.” He sighed and rubbed his head.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “I did not mean to begin this, not now. Not when I’m so glad to have you here. You must understand, however, I know my business. The people love you. You and your brother are like princes to them. They will want you to have a substantial rank. They will require it, and one day, when it is your time to succeed me—it will be important then, too.”
    “But surely this is a democracy,” Dikembe said.
    “Democracy, like art, is not something we can afford at this time. One day, we can hope—but not now. Then, if there is by some chance a vote, they will vote for you.”
    We’ll see about that
, Dikembe thought, because if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he would never be the ruler of this or any other “republic.”

4
JUNE
1997
    David Levinson paused to stare as the guards at the gate checked his credentials.
    “He’s okay, boys,” Connie said. “He’s with me.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” one of them said. He studied David. “Hey,” he said. “You’re that guy.”
    “Yes,” David said. “Absolutely. I’m that guy.” Turning, he crooked a forefinger at the ongoing construction ahead of him. “Honey, am I… Are they making it bigger?”
    Connie squeezed his arm. “A little bigger,” she said.
    “How much bigger?” he asked.
    She looked down and pushed a stray lock of hair from her face.
    “You know—about twice—ah, as big.”
    “Right,” David said. “Of course. A bigger target, that’s what we need. That’s our national priority.”
    “David, be nice,” Connie said.
    “You two can go on up now,” the guard said.
    “Thanks,” David said. He took Connie’s hand, felt the ring there, and smiled a little. It had taken saving the world to get her back, but it had been worth it.
    “It’s just… unreal,” he said. David had seen a lot of strange things in the past few years—the guts of an alien mother ship, for one—but this was right up there.
    The fence they had just passed through and the structure coming together in front of him stood in the middle of an ash field around eight miles in diameter. Here and there, the slumped, melted forms that had once been buildings and monuments thrust up from the dust.