Hicks frowned. How many years of fictional paranoia had conditioned him to be dubious of extraterrestrials bearing gifts? Of all the motion pictures made about first contact, only a bare handful had treated the epochal event as benign.

How often had Hicks’s eyes misted over, watching these few films, even when he tried to keep a scientific perspective? That great moment, the exchange between humans and friendly nonhuman intelligences…

It had happened in Australia. The dream was alive.

And in California, nightmares.

The Guest does not appear to have been designed for a long life span,

He put the Australian booklet on the top of the stack and reached awkwardly over the stack to turn off the light. In the darkness, he disciplined himself to take regular, shallow breaths, to blank his mind and go to sleep. Even so, sleep came late and was not restful.

21

Crockerman, wearing slacks and a white shirt but no coat or tie, a powdery patch of styptic pencil on his chin from a shaving cut, entered the office of his chief of staff, and nodded briefly, at those assembled there: Gordon, Hicks, Rotterjack, Fulton, Lehrman, and the chief of staff himself, plump and balding Irwin Schwartz. It was seven-thirty in the morning, though in the windowless office time hardly mattered. Arthur thought he might never get out of little rooms and the company of bureaucrats and politicians.

“I’ve called you in here to go over our own material on the Great Victoria Desert bogey,” Crockerman said. “You’ve read their booklet, I presume?” Crockerman asked. All nodded. “At my request, Mr. Hicks has been sworn in, and his security clearance has been processed…”

Rotterjack looked dyspeptic.

“He’s one of us now. Where’s Carl?”

“Still in traffic, I think,” Schwartz said. “He called a half hour ago and said he’d be a few minutes late.”

“All right. We don’t have much time.” Crockerman stood and paced before them. “I’ll play his part. We have ‘one or more’ agents at the Australian rock. I need not tell you all how sensitive this fact is, but take this as a reminder…”

Rotterjack threw a very pointed glance at Hicks. Hicks received it calmly.

“Ironically, the information passed on to us only confirms what the Australians have been saying in public. Everything’s Pollyanna as far as they’re concerned. We’re about to enter a new age of discovery. The robots have already begun to explain their technology. David?”

“The Australians have passed on some of the physics information the robots have given to them,” Rotterjack said. “It’s quite esoteric, having to do with cosmology. A couple of Australian physicists have said the equations are relevant to superstring theory.”

“Whatever that is,” Fulton said.

Rotterjack grinned almost maliciously. “It’s very important, General. At your request, Arthur, I’ve passed the equations on to Mohammed Abante at Pepperdine University. He’s arranging for a team of his colleagues to examine the equations and, we hope, file a report in a few days. The robots have not been confronted with the fact of our bogey. The Australians may want to leave it to us to tell them.”

Carl McClennan entered the office, topcoat hung over his arm and briefcase half hidden in the folds. He looked around, saw there were no available seats besides the two reserved for the Australians, and stood by the rear wall. Hicks wondered if he should stand and give the national security advisor his seat, but decided it would win him no affection.

Crockerman gave McClennan a rundown of what had been discussed so far.

“I finished the first round of negotiations with their team leaders and intelligence experts last night. They’ve agreed to keep it secret,” McClennan said. “The discussion today between the Aussies and ourselves can be open and aboveboard. No forbidden territory.”

“Fine,” Crockerman said. “What I’d like to work toward, gentlemen, is a way of presenting all the facts to the public within a month’s time.”

McClennan paled. “Mr. President, we haven’t discussed this — “ Both Rotterjack and McClennan cast unhappy glances at Hicks this time. Hicks kept his face impassive: Not my show, gentlemen.

“We haven’t discussed it,” Crockerman agreed, almost nonchalantly. “Still, this is what we should aim for. I am convinced the news will leak soon, and rather our citizens learn the facts of life from qualified personnel than from gutter gossip, don’t you agree?”

Reluctantly, McClennan said yes, but his face remained tense.

“Fine. The Australians will be in the Oval Office in about fifteen minutes. Do we have any questions, disagreements, before we meet?”

Schwartz raised his hand and wriggled his fingers.

“Irwin?”

“Mr. President, is Tom Jacks or Rob Tishman on our list yet?” Schwartz asked. Jacks was in charge of public relations. Tishman was White House press secretary. “If we truly are going public in a month, or even if we’re just thinking about it, Rob and Tom should be given some lead time.”

“They aren’t on the list yet; by tomorrow they will be. As for my esteemed Veep…” Crockerman frowned. Vice President Frederick Hale had had a falling-out with the President three months before; they hardly spoke now. Hale had involved himself in unsavory business dealings in Kansas; the resulting scandal had dominated newspapers for two weeks and nearly resulted in Hale’s being “thrown to the wolves.” Hale, as slippery and adept as any man in the Capital, had floundered ungracefully in the storm, but he had weathered it. “I see no reason to put him on the list now. Do you?”

Nobody indicated they did.

“Then let’s adjourn to the Oval Office.”

22

Seated in chairs around the President’s desk, the men listened intently as Arthur summed up the scientific findings. The Australians, both young and vigorous-looking, tanned in contrast to the pale features of the Americans around them, appeared serenely untroubled by what Arthur had just told them.

“In short, then,” he concluded, “we have no reason to believe our Guest is being less than truthful. The contrast between our experiences is pretty sharp.”

“That’s true understatement,” said Colin Forbes, the senior in age and rank of the two. Forbes was in his early forties, weathered and vigorous, with white-blond hair. He wore a pale blue sports coat and white slacks and smelled strongly of after-shave. “I can see what the fuss is about. Here we are, bringing a message of hope and glory, and your little green man tells you it’s all a sham. I’m not sure how we can resolve the discrepancy.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Rotterjack asked. “We confront your robots with what we’ve been told.”

Forbes nodded and smiled. “And if they deny it all, if they say they don’t know what the hell’s going on?”

Rotterjack had no answer for that.

Gregory French, the junior Australian, with neatly combed and trimmed black hair and dressed in a standard gray suit, stood up and cleared his throat. He was obviously not comfortable in this high level of company. To Arthur, he looked like a bashful student.

“Does anybody know if there have been other bogeys? The Russians, the Chinese?”

“No information yet,” Lehrman said. “That’s not a negative. Just a temporary ‘we don’t know.’”

“I think if we’re the only ones blessed or cursed, we should get the issue resolved before any public release,” French said. “This could tear people apart. Standing between devils and angels.”

“I agree,” Arthur said.

“There are problems with waiting,” Crockerman said.

“Pardon me, sir,” McClennan broke in, “but the possibility of unofficial release is much less disturbing than the impact of…”He waved his hands energetically through the air. “The confusion. The fear. We’re sitting on a real time bomb. Do you truly understand this, Mr. President?” he practically shouted. McClennan’s frustration with the President had come to a painful head. The room was silent. The national security advisor’s tone had been far stronger than anyone would have expected, coming from the cautious Carl McClennan.