The Evil That Came

Part 2: Behind Closed Doors

Greg's youth was striking, and his presence—his dirty blond hair, bright blue eyes, and tall, muscular frame—disrupted the monocromatic sea of gray-haired individuals in the ceremony. Then, He saw her. Matilda; Her wavy chocolate brown hair swung behind her. Her youthful glow and yellowish-brown eyes were bright with life, juxtaposed against the aging crowd, just as Greg was. But still, her presence demanded attention. Who could look away from someone so beautiful? 

Stuck on stage, the silent tension was heavy between Greg, General Alden, and the President, all giving each other knowing looks unbeknownst to the crowd. The White House press secretary and her propaganda machine provided Greg with a fake speech she would use to explain his absence for twenty years when he was behind the dais. He rolled his eyes and hissed at the flagrant lies. The journalists asked the press secretary the expected routine questions about Greg's whereabouts and his connections to the D.S.Rs. And then, after the questions died down, the President appeared. He was a short, balding old man whose tanned skin lay on him like leather, his smile fake as plastic. 

Then he continued with his speech. "Brigadier General O'Dunn is an exemplary example of what it means to be the best of the best. He has served his country with grace under pressure, providing us with the technical advances that came with these extraterrestrials. We are forever in his debt for advancing our country and our world. Through his bravery, humanity is at the apex, and the Designated Sovereign Refugees he contained will be the cornerstone of our defense for the decades to come. The crowd roared with a standing ovation, clapping as the president's weathered eyes crinkled with a smile that never met them. 

Standing directly behind him was Greg. His knuckles blanched as he balled them into a fist along his sides. As the ovation died down, Greg walked past General Alden, and he whispered for him to smile. Talking out the side of his mouth, Greg countered, "At least I am here." 

He walked forward and stood before the crowd, taking in his surroundings. He placed the prepared speech on the podium. Then, looking back, Greg smirked ever so slightly at General Alden. The silent war is reaching its fever-pitch as Greg starts his speech. 

"Thank you, Mr.President." His booming voice silenced the crowd. Everyone was locked on him, hearing the legend's voice for the first time in decades. "The president is right, we are at the apex of technology. We would never have what we have today if we hadn't discovered this group of people. However, there is still an air of fear. There was a war that raged between the D.S.Rs and Humans. Lives lost, and a fractured world, and yet, we declared them human in 3050, opened our home to them, and, in return, they gave us technology beyond our dreams. They are a testament to our Humanity. Therefore, I am proud to announce that I am now the new head of the D.S.R. Research Division. And under my exclusive command." He stressed, "I intend to continue to be the bridge of our worlds just as I was on that fateful day in 3049. Thank you all."

Greg gave a winning smile at General Alden and the President. The President, ever the politician, kept the nice plastic smile as his eyes bristled with rage. General Alden turned away from the cameras, smiling through gritted teeth as he shook Greg's hand.

Cameras flashing, and cheers as the audience is clapping, as General Alden pins a shiny new medal on Greg's white dress uniform. Pressing nice and hard until he bled a little bit. Greg felt the purposeful sting and never once winced, his eyes locked on General Alden's slitted gaze, and then he smiled brightly—the perfect holo-picture of the century, they say. 

After the ceremony, there was a congressional luncheon with other politicians. The room was painted with gold-leaf designs, adorned with crystal chandeliers, and featured thick cream-colored drapes with a golden luster over the windows for the private, invite-only event. There were tables full of people chatting, with clinking dishes as they ate and drank expensive champagne.