V - The Original Miniseries Read Online Free

Bernstein glared at his son. "I told you before, Lynn, where would we go? The roads are jammed, they say. Besides, as the president pointed out, we ought to avoid panic. They haven't done anything to indicate they're hostile."
Old Abraham shifted uneasily on the couch. "I wonder if there is any place left to hide. Even the Germans during the war had no ships like these."
     
"Father," Stanley said reprovingly, "that doesn't help-'
    Their attention shifted abruptly back to the television screen. A somewhat hoarse but still professional Dan Rather was saying: ". . . They have reported the same occurrence now in Rome ... and Rio de Janeiro ... Moscow ... Yes, the reports are flooding in-that same tone is being repeated all over the world from the spacecraft hanging over our cities-"
The Bernsteins heard the pulsing signal simultaneously from the television pickup and also from outside their suburban Los Angeles home. A tone, swiftly echoing, then changing to a voice! "Twenty-one ... twenty ... nineteen ... eighteen ..." The strangely resonant voice continued the countdown while the news commentator explained that all over the world people were hearing the same thing-each in the appropriate local tongue.
    "... five ... four ... three ... two . . . one." After a sec- ond's pause, the voice continued, "Citizens of the planet Earth ... we bring you greetings. We come in peace. May we respectfully request the secretary general of your United Nations please come to the top of the United Nations Building in New York at 0100 Greenwich Mean Time this evening. Thank you."
Stanley blinked. "What time is that?"
    Dan Rather answered, obligingly, from the television. "The voice we have just heard requested the presence of the secretary general at the top of the United Nations Building in New York City at eight o'clock this evening."
Lynn clutched frantically at her husband's hand. "What will this mean, Stanley?" Daniel turned to grin at her, ecstatic. "It means something is gonna happen, Mom ... finally! Isn't it great?"
2
    SUNSET WAS A DIM RED MEMORY ON THE NEW YORK WESTERN SKY as Mike Donovan panned his camera across the lights of Manhattan. Late summer wind whipped his already rumpled hair-the breeze was stiff this high up. The top of the United Nations Building. Donovan checked his watch again. Seven fifty and forty-five seconds. Not quite ten minutes to go.
    The roof door slammed, admitting yet another crowd of journalists and technicians. Mike spotted a familiar black head and hurried over to greet Tony Leonetti, helping his friend carry his equipment over to the roped-off line. Donovan noted Leonetti's grimace as he moved his shoulder.
    "You sure you're gonna make it, Tony?" Tony grinned. "The news event of the century? Man, I ain't about to miss it!" "Mike?" Both men turned as a woman's voice reached them.
    Donovan's eyes held hers as she walked toward them, a tall, very well-groomed woman in her early thirties. Everything about her, from her expertly applied makeup and hairstyle to her level, measuring gaze, proclaimed her as one of the most prominent television reporters in the business. "Uh, hello, Kristine."
"Hello, Mike. Hi, Tony." She nodded pleasantly to Tony, who returned her greeting. "I heard you drew the TV pool. Me too."
     
Donovan smiled knowingly. "I thought I recognized your card in the. pile downstairs. Figured you wouldn't miss this one.
     
She returned his smile a little sheepishly. "So where are we setting up?"
    He pointed to the roped-off line beyond which stood a contingent of UN military police. With a nod, Tony excused himself to set up his equipment. Donovan hesitated, looking over at the bustle of camera crews, their faces ranging from strained worry to hectic gaiety. From far below he could hear the everpresent wail of sirens.
    Kristine took his arm. "Mike? Let's get set up." He started. "Yeah. I was just ... thinking."
Her glance was knowing. "So was I. You could've at least said good-bye before you left