Free The Trojan Horse by Christopher Nuttall Page A

stiff suit, one that made her look businesslike, and had her hair tied up in a tight bun.  Margaret Thatcher, one of the few women to wield supreme power, had served as her idol.  A President had to appear impassive and approachable, capable and yet vulnerable.   It wouldn’t be long until the next election cycle, when she would attempt to knock President Hollinger off the ticket and run for President herself.  Her aides had already started the long process of securing contributions and support prior to the nominations.  The family’s long service in Washington gave them a network of allies and clients and she had no intention of wasting them.  She would be President, the first female President in America’s history.  No one would ever forget her name.
     
    Her aides buzzed around her, each one competing to provide her with the latest update from her corps of political monitoring personnel.  The winner in any political campaign would be the one who understood the national trends in public opinion and Jeannette had no intention of being behind the curve.  Reaction seemed to be mixed, but there was a general trend towards an admiration for the Galactic Federation – and a drop in support for the government.  Even those who might be counted upon to be patriotic seemed inclined to condemn the government – a condemnation that would fall on the head of the sitting President, even if the trends they condemned had started long before his administration.  Jeannette listened with a practiced ear as the results of the latest polls were shoved in front of her, before dismissing her staff.  She would make the walk to the alien chambers alone.  As always, it was a carefully planned political gesture; the aliens had walked into the heart of human society without fear and she intended to visit them just as openly.
     
    The aliens had requested a set of chambers within the UN complex for their personnel use and the UN had scurried to comply.  Jeannette knew that every other ambassador, special representative and even some of the world leaders still in New York would be scurrying to secure a private interview with the aliens.  The promise of alien technology and a change in the global balance of power was irresistibly attractive.  Jeannette knew that the nations with the least to lose – debtor nations that felt as if they were exploited by the West, fairly or unfairly – would be the ones most inclined to buy into the promise of a brave new world order.  At worst, they would be no worse off than they already were…and they would have the satisfaction of seeing their tormentors brought down to the same level. 
     
    A UN security guard waved her through into an antechamber, where she encountered what had to be an alien version of a security guard.  The alien waved a device over her body, checked the results and – apparently satisfied – allowed her to proceed into the next chamber, where the alien Ambassador rose to greet her.  Up close, the alien was utterly inhuman; his eerie body moved in a manner that sent chills down her spine.  She reminded herself firmly that this was another intelligent being and – more importantly – had the backing of seventeen starships in orbit.  The aliens could not be taken lightly.
     
    “Thank you for receiving me,” she said, as she took the chair the alien indicated.  He seemed to show no inclination to sit down at first, and then perched himself on a stool.  Jeannette wondered if it was a deliberate sign – either a gesture of respect or a deliberate slur – before realising that the alien wouldn’t find a human chair very comfortable.  “It is my hope that we can proceed together towards a mutually-satisfying dialogue that will respect the needs and inclinations of both our peoples.”
     
    The aliens had to know that she could only speak for the United States – no one could really claim to speak for the world – but they’d allowed her to be the first to