He disconnected the call, threw his phone on to the desk, and looked at Sarge.
“You know what a bot is?”
“No idea.” He did but didn’t want to give too much away about his line of work.
“Apparently it’s short for ‘web robot’ and they rule the world.” Lee walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked outside. The sky was blue and cloudless. “No sign of our friend today.” He turned and gave a soft shake of his head. “You ready for this?” He took a deep breath. “The asteroid is an alien craft.”
Sarge laughed. War of the Worlds? Mars Attacks?
“Jules says there are images circulating that show the outline of an alien vessel inside the asteroid?”
“Doctored images?”
“That’s the message we’ll get out there. But Jules says they’re not doctored images. They’re real. From NASA.”
“Images from NASA can still be doctored.” He’d had a few doctored images land in his email box over the years. Altered images had existed since long before Photoshop was invented. The question was who was producing these images.
“You’re right.” Lee sat down, rested his elbows on the desk, and ran his hand through his hair. “But it still leaves the question. What is that thing in the sky?”
Sarge stood and walked over to the desk. He placed his hands on the desk and looked down at his boss. “It’s an asteroid.”
“We need some drinks.” Lee met Sarge’s eyes but broke off. He pushed his seat back, stood, and headed towards the drink cabinet. “Gavin Sargent, you’re the best sergeant I’ve ever had.”
The boss was close to being drunk, and it was still morning. Obviously a coping mechanism. He rarely called Sarge by his proper name. That, combined with the drinking, concerned him. They’d spent the last few hours going over strategies and needed to focus.
“Best you back off the drink for now. Some other members will be visiting soon.”
“You’re right. In fact, you’re always right. I should appoint you The Great Leader.” He buzzed his intercom. “Brett, could you organise some strong coffee for us.”
“Will do.”
“That could be a good idea, making you The Great Leader. It would take away the complexity involved with your surname: Sargent versus sergeant.”
The alcohol was talking, and Sarge hoped the coffee would deal with it.
“No, you do a good job.” The Great Leader wouldn’t pick up Sarge’s sarcasm. “We just need to get things underway. Get our visitors to use their influencers to pump out stories about doctored images and aliens to their millions of followers.”
“Yep. And get the bots into action. Whatever that action is.”
Sarge had a vague idea how the bots would work. They would automate fake news and opinions about the asteroid through social media channels, influencing what the fraternity wanted people to believe. Once again, the Christians and their beliefs would cop a pasting.
A tap on the door, and Brett wheeled in a trolley with a coffee pod machine and cups.
“What can I get you, sir?” He plugged in the coffee machine.
“Long black for me,” Lee said.
“I’ll have the same, thank you.”
Brett pushed a button, and the high-pressure pump kicked in. Thick and creamy coffee poured into a cup. After starting the process for the second cup, he carried the cup over to Lee. “Your other guests are here, sir. Would you like me to bring them in?”
“Yes, thanks, Brett.”
The aroma escaping from the coffee pod filled the room. Sarge hoped the smell pepped up the mood.
Brett placed Sarge’s coffee on the table and left to get the other guests. The boss took a sip of his coffee, sighed in pleasure, and sat on the couch facing Sarge.
Another gentle tap, and Brett led the visitors into the room, a tall man in cream chinos and an untucked light blue shirt, and an attractive younger woman wearing a businesslike checked grey knee-length dress.
“Welcome, Mr Bruce and Ms Jones. Good to see you both.”
Sarge stood and greeted them. They were both tanned and looked fit.
“What can I get you to drink?” Brett asked. They both chose water.
Bruce sat down beside Sarge while Ms Jones took a seat next to the boss, who tapped on the top of her leg. Her expression conveyed how much she hated that.
“How is Noosa, Mr Bruce? Much damage?”
Bruce sat forward. “Pockets, but not as bad as the news outlets are making out.”
“And are you making progress with the other task?”
“Yes. Things are falling into place nicely. Attended a disaster emergency meeting last night and was able to get solid information on drones.”
“Good. I hope you didn’t raise any suspicions. Your enthusiasm can get you into trouble at times. I say that in a positive way.”
Sarge wasn’t sure about that.
