“Mr. Secretary, I need more than that!” The US Secretary of Defense bristled at the words of his boss, the President of the United States. He never particularly liked her, partly because he distrusts women, and partly because he feels she is not decisive enough to be an effective leader. Now, though, her words were clearly indicative of a person ready to make the quick call. The man stammered, not totally prepared to speak to an authoritative woman, “M-madam President, this is obviously something we never expected to encounter. So-ss-so that’s all the information we have confirmed at this time.”

President Farris glared at the tall man, her patience officially expended, “So, what we know is that there are aliens. Said aliens apparently look like twenty-year-old girls, but they’re fifty miles tall and weigh roughly the mass of the moon. And, we know she’ll get to Vancouver in fifty minutes. Am I missing anything, Steve?”

“No, Madam President. We’re working on additional--“

“Can we kill her?”

Steve looked at the woman, her gaze cold and icy, “We can try.”

She nodded, “Go get ready, then. I’ll tell you when it’s time.”

“Right away, Madam President.”

President Farris sighed as her subordinate left the command room. She had not planned to be spending this night on an Air Force base in Las Vegas, but that’s presidential life. She had been here to campaign for reelection, Nevada being a battleground state between her and her rival, but now all flights were grounded and she needed access to the US military command to respond to this crisis. Already the reports from what’s left of the 7th fleet in Asia were disturbing: Most of China is flooded, supposedly entire cities just… gone. Taiwan is now a foot-shaped hole in the Earth. The Philippines are totally underwater, as is most of Japan. Australia, Indonesia, Thailand, even the East coast of India, all experiencing massive earthquakes and catastrophic tsunamis. If our allies weren’t all dead now, I’d be celebrating the fall of China. But it looks like this ‘woman’ isn’t on our side. The phone rang in the command room. It was base security, “Madam President? We have the scientist you asked for.”

“Good. Bring him to the base commander’s office right away. And tell the base commander to leave his office.”

---

As if Carlos’s night couldn’t get any weirder, he was now shaking hands with the President. Okay, this is fine. Totally normal. No big deal. Had he not just seen millions die in real time on live stream, he’d probably tell her what an honor it was to meet her, and how he’s a big supporter, etc. But all he could muster now was, “What did you need from me, ma’am?”

President Farris seemed amused by his directness, “I need to know everything you know about this alien, Doctor. You already debriefed countless generals, and government officials, and I’m sure random reporters have been harassing you, too. I want to know, what is really going on?”

Carlos was confused, “W-well, I’m not sure what you mean by—”

“What I mean is… all that data you got, the pictures, all useful, but it’s not what I really need. I give all that to my staff and the army and they come up with the best plans to deal with her. I’m a people person. I want to understand her. Her motives. What she’s capable of. I can’t get that with data. I need a person’s experience. So… what do you know about her?”

Carlos recalled seeing the woman in space for the first time. The realization that the anomaly wasn’t some asteroid, or artefact of the array. It was something alive. Sentient. He remembered the expression on Bridget’s face, too. Not panic, not fascination. But dread. The kind of dread one gets when walking home alone at night, or when one’s car breaks down in a place they’re not familiar with. You think you’re not in danger right now, but you feel the anticipation. Your body knows something bad is just around the corner, just up the road. Even if it may not really be there. Some kind of instinct, basal and unconscious, was telling Bridget ‘Get ready. There’s something out there in the dark.’ Carlos responded to the President,

“Ma’am, I think this woman is the closest thing to God we humans have yet to encounter. When I calculated the trajectory of her arrival, saw her on the satellite image. She moved with this complete indifference. Like what she planned was a routine, boring chore for her. And the way she just… watched as millions died from just her steps. Like she was looking at a sandcastle crumble at her feet. I don’t think she’s malicious, or wants to hurt us. She just, doesn’t care what happens to us.”

President Farris hardened her gaze, “I see. We’re like ants to her. Then if she thinks we’re so powerless, we must demonstrate otherwise.”

“Ma’am, respectfully, I don’t think we should do anything. Maybe try talking to her, see if she wants something in particular?”

“There’s no time for that. If we wait to communicate, she could destroy more. We can’t just sit by and let her break any American cities. I can’t just sit by.”

“Well, if ants started biting you, wouldn’t you crush them?”

The President pondered Carlos’s point, then dismissed it, “Doctor, thanks for the input. I appreciate your profile of this woman. But leave the tactical decisions to me.” She waved to the guard outside, who dragged Carlos out of the office to the security station outside. He watched as the activity at the base picked up, men and women running around, barking orders at each other. Oh fuck. She’s really doing it.

She has doomed us.

--- Over the Pacific Ocean, just past Vancouver, Canada

“LIMA. ROMEO. BRAVO. SIX. SIX. GOLF. SEVEN. TANGO.”

The code came in loud and clear on the radio of the B-2 stealth bomber leading a formation of fifty bombers and 75 fighter escorts. It was the “big one” that Air Force bombers all dread to hear: the green-light to engage with nuclear weapons. The pilot was dead focused, his target right in front of him as she had been for the entire time he was airborne. He could see all of her when his bomber was scrambled, but now he could only see the lower part of her thighs. Good enough place to hit as any, he thought. A commander from a nearby Navy vessel was providing coordination, “Sub-launched missiles engaging above 60000ft. Do not climb beyond 50000ft. Bomber targets are woman’s knees and ankles. Formation break, engage at will.” The lead was the first to drop his bombs. His payload could wipe out a city the size of Shanghai, leaving it a smoldering ruin. He climbed to 45000ft to avoid the shockwave, feeling the massive blast followed by a messy chorus of explosions as the full might of the US Armed Forces unleashed on the giant girl. His co-pilot engaged a camera at the back of the bomber, ready to confirm they hit the woman. She just stared into her screen. The pilot glanced at her, “Hey. Lieutenant. Update? C’mon, what’s the damage?”

“S-she’s still there. The nukes did nothing. But she brought her hand down.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“S-she… smashed all the bombers.”