Let's take a breath-jump over the side

-Coldplay, What If

Had it not been for the Great Political Reform of '95, Marlon's job would have been far more pain-in-the-ass-ier.  The old president had decided to gather the (few) smart members from each of the government branches to decide on which organizations were unnecessary to the upkeep of a national power.  It was an attempt to revert back to the political simplicity of early America, so that a massive amount of red tape and bullshit could be eliminated.  In addition, a brutally strict ethics test would be required of all candidates for national office.  The tests would be administrated by the president and would change for each candidate, so as to prevent fraud.  Candidates would also be screened for mental illness genes, and their strength of religious affiliation would only hurt their application.  The plan would be added as a new Amendment to the Constitution.  By a chance as slim as a quark, the damn thing actually passed.  Not a lot of argument, either.  "It was one of those rare terms in which there was an extreme seat leaning in Congress," some experts say.*

The five men sat in the meeting room silently.  The antique, wooden table they sat at reflected their dull faces back at them.  One of the men was rolling his tongue around the inside of his lower lip; he stared at the odd reflection to entertain himself.  They thought about what to say to Marlon about the elephant in the room-or, on the lawn.  One thought of killing them all; one thought of squeezing answers out and then killing them all; one thought of beating his current record of how far down he could reach his tongue into his wife's pussy; and another thought of going ahead with Marlon's current plan.  The last was a man of about forty, named Loren Urjin.  To friends, he was "Urj."  To enemies, he was, "Lurch," since it sounded nastier.  Both names played on his surname, which sounded similar to "urchin."  His personality was comparable to an urchin, as well.  Most saw his mind and temper as needle-sharp, and he could easily deflect any predators (such as conservative congressmen, salesmen, unruly minorities, you name it).  His large nose, premature white hair, thin eyes, and perfectly rectangular head made him appear, to many, as Bill Maher's evil brother.  His alien plan was similar to Marlon's, but with a different twist.  He believed it would keep everybody, and everypony, happy.

Marlon was exactly eleven-no, twelve minutes late, and the men grew restless.  They aimlessly fidgeted in their seats-often stretching, often tapping the table, often clicking pens, often playing invisible double-bass pedals with their feet.  Each found the shape of his watch's buttons and bezel to be quite interesting.

Marlon pushed down the J-handle with his elbow and pushed the door in with his foot.  He carried a large box in front of him.  He set it on the table and opened it.

"Plenty to go 'round," he said as the men grabbed for the chocolate-iced, sprinkled donuts inside.  He placed a laptop bag on the floor next to his chair.  "Sorry about being late; I just got back from another meeting, and the donuts needed a little more time to bake than usual."

Nobody said anything; their mouths were too full to speak.

Marlon sat down and began:  "Well, here we are.  First human contact with aliens, and it gets to be in our country's capital; pretty cool, huh?"

No one spoke.  Their mouths were empty now.  Marlon grew nervous.

"Look, I'm trying to lighten the mood.  I'm not sure what everybody's feeling right now, since we've... ya know... never done this before.  We're shooting blind as a race.  I like to think that I made a good decision by allowing them to live, but that's one man's opinion.  It'd be nice to hear from you on what you think a second stage should be.  Don't be afraid to criticize the current plan, either; it's OK to be frank in here."

Silence.  Then:  "I'm not sure if we should allow them to live any longer."

"Why do you think so?" asked Marlon, trying not to sound condescending like some sort of child psychologist.

"Well.... they could be planning something.  I know they seem nice, but... you can never be too careful."

"OK, OK.  And how do you propose we kill them (I'm hearing you out here)."

"They're on the lawn now; shoot the leaders first, then mow down the others.  We can't risk anything."

"I agree with him," said another.  "Except we should get the answers out of them first.  Before they go, we need to find out how we can harness this 'magic' stuff.  It can revolutionize human life as we know it."

"But it can also be used as a weapon.  Wouldn't it be dangerous in the wrong hands?" retaliated Marlon.

"Well, then we only give it to the right hands.  High-powered lasers can be dangerous, but we don't go giving those out willy-nilly do we?"

"Who says it's even possible for humans to harness it?"

"We could build a machine.  It's not possible for humans to harness sawblades from their arms, but we have machines that allow us to use sawblades....  For example."

"This is a whole different area of physics, though.  Actually, it kinda defies physics."

"It's starting to seem pretty futile to argue my opinion like this if you keep trying to shoot it down."

"I'm not saying your opinion is bad.  I'll take all of these into consideration.  I'm only trying to figure out if each plan is really foolproof.  There are factors that could stymie (when's the last time you heard that word?) any of these plans.  There are nearly all-powerful leaders, slightly less powerful unicorns, and pegasi that, if they can fly fast enough, can pull an Osama on us."

"Is there some sort of material their magic can't affect?"

"Why would you think there would be?"

"I saw it on TV with my kids once.  The magical bad guy only has one material he can't affect.  It's like a milder version of kryptonite to him....  Don't judge me, this is one of those one-in-a-billion coincidences where it actually might work."

"Interesting.  So you think we should build an interrogation room out of whatever material that is, then interrogate them in it?"

"Exactly."

"I'm not sure how I would ask them about weaknesses, though.  They would get suspicious."

"That's where your plan comes in.  We need to build trust first, so it seems like nothing's wrong."

Marlon was sure not to tell them where that information (if it existed) could really be found without asking.  Twilight's anatomy books would have to be kept secret from prying eyes.  The R.R.F. could be trusted with them; they were harmless scientists-not hostile politicians.

"I'm fine with it," said another.

"Fine with what?" replied Marlon.

"The current plan.  Keep it as it is, I say.  I think it'll work for everybody."

"O, most gracious of replies," joked Marlon.

"Wattif...," began Urj in his heavy New York accent, "we go alawng wit'is playen, 'cept we make a few changes."**

"Like what?" asked Marlon, slightly terrified at what the evil (yet extremely high-I.Q.'ed) Bill Maher clone had to say.

"Hoo says we gotta live wit'em?  Dis 'complex,' as ya cawl it, should be isolated from da'restudda cidy.  We cud send a few udda humans in deya ta live wit'em, ya know, ta make nice an' stuff, bududdadan dat, we shud just leev'm'aloan."

"You mean... isolate them from the rest of the human race?"

"Exayactlee.  Just bildiddonda owtskirts'a town.  Maybe somweeya in da ugly pardudda city-to make it awl nice ag'en.  We cud still giv'em jawbs an awl, but keep'em away from da world.  Ya know, sice dere're all doze guys who're awl hostel to 'em.  We gawta protect 'em, see?  Dis ain't fa' racism poipusses uh nuttin.  I was tinkin we cud cawl it 'District P,' wheyre da' 'P' stayands fa' 'Pony.'"

"That's a nice idea.  I like that part about keeping them safe from the hostile people.  I like it, Urj, but I think we should use that as a backup plan, if the whole society part doesn't work out."

"OK, yer da' baws."

"Are you sure this will pass congress, Rich?  I know you sounded sure, but you can never be too careful with them.  You've gotta word this thing so that it's completely foolproof," piped in the pussy man.

"And why didn't you just use an executive order?" asked the get-info-out-of-'em man.

"Because this is a massive project, and I wanted to be able to get some opinions from you guys first.  And from congress.  Who knows?  They may give some helpful insights, too."

"So you want us to help you write the bill?"

"Yes.  Normally, I'd have a pretty good idea myself, but something like this has never been done before, and some of you guys know how to put the words in on the unknown stuff better than I do.  We have to build this thing together."

Marlon pulled out his super-duper-ultra-top-secret laptop and placed it on the desk.  He rapidly typed a plethora of security codes, then opened his super-duper-ultra-top-secret edition of Microsoft Word.

He began with the title:  "Project P."