Arthur left Washington the next day, convinced that his team now had solid evidence for making a connection. He had sufficient time, he thought, to prepare a case and present it to Crockerman, that all of these events were linked, and that some grand strategy could now be worked out.
He could not convince himself the President-elect would listen, however.
Major Mary Rigby, the latest in their series of duty officers, buzzed them all at six-thirty in the morning to listen to the radio. Shaw bunched his pillows up and sat in his cot as “Hail to the Chief” played — a true Crockerman touch — and the Speaker of the House listened gravely to the announcement of the appearance of the President-elect of the United States.
“Maybe the old fart’s going to write our ticket out of here,” Minelli said, his voice raspy from a night of protests and shouting. Minelli was not doing well at all. This infuriated Edward. But cold, subdued fury had been his state of mind for the last two weeks. This experience was going to leave all of them warped in one way or another. Reslaw and Morgan said very little anymore.
“Mr. Speaker, honorable members of the House of Representatives, fellow citizens,” the President began. “I have called this emergency conference after weeks of deep thought, and many hours of consultation with trusted advisors and experts. I have an extraordinary announcement to make, and a perhaps even more extraordinary request.
“You have no doubt been following with as much interest as I the events taking place in Australia. These events in the beginning seemed to bring hope to our stricken planet, the hope of Godlike intervention from outside, of those who would act to save us from ourselves.
We began to feel that perhaps our difficulties were indeed only those of a young species, faltering in its early footsteps. Now these hopes have been dashed, and we find ourselves in even deeper confusion.
“My sympathies lie with Prime Minister Stanley Miller of Australia. The loss of the three messengers from outer space, and the mystery surrounding their destruction — perhaps self-destruction — is a deep shock to us all. But it is time to confess that it has been less of a shock to me and to a number of my advisors. For we have been following a similar series of events within our own country, kept secret until now for reasons which will soon become clear.”
Disembarking from a shuttle bus at Los Angeles Inter: national Airport, on his way to Death Valley and then to Oregon for three days’ rest, Arthur entered a lounge area to await his taxi and heard the President’s voice. He sat before a color television with eleven other travelers, his face ashen. He’s jumping the gun.
“Late last September, three young geologists discovered a hill in the desert not far from Death Valley, in California. The hill was not on their maps. Near this hill they found an extraterrestrial being, an individual in ill health. They brought this individual to a nearby desert town and notified authorities. The extraterrestrial being—”
Trevor Hicks listened from his Washington hotel room, the remains of breakfast spread on a serving tray at the foot of the bed. Just yesterday, he had learned that Mrs. Crockerman had moved to her flat permanently. Later that afternoon, he had heard the first rumors of David Rotterjack’s resignation.
The President-elect’s version of what happened in the Vandenberg laboratory was clear enough; he could find no fault so far.
“…And as I spoke with this being, this visitor from another world, the story it told me was chilling. I have never been so deeply and emotionally affected in my life. It spoke of a journey across ages, of the death of its home world, and of the agency of this destruction — the very vehicle which had brought it to Earth, now landed in Death Valley and disguised as a volcanic cinder cone.”
Ithaca called Harry in from the bathroom, where he had just finished taking his shower. She wrapped him in a thick terry robe as he stood before the television, feeling how warm his skin was. “Great fucking birds flapping in the air,” he breathed.
“What?” Ithaca asked.
“He’s making the announcement now. Listen to him. Just listen to him.”
“When I asked the Guest if it believed in God, it replied in a steady, certain voice, ‘I believe in punishment.’” The President paused, staring across the fully attended house. “My dilemma, and the dilemma of all my advisors, military and civilian, and of all our scientists, was simple. Could we believe that our extraterrestrial visitor and the visitors in Australia were linked? They told such different stories …”
There was a knock on Trevor’s door. He closed his robe and hurried to open it, hardly even seeing who was outside, his attention still focused on the television.
“Hicks, I owe you an apology.” It was Carl McClennan, dressed in a raincoat and clutching a bottle of something wrapped in a brown paper bag. “That’s him, isn’t it?”
“Yes, come in, come in.” Hicks didn’t bother to ask why McClennan was here.
“I’ve resigned,” McClennan said. “I read his speech last night. The bastard wouldn’t listen to any of us.”
“Shhh,” Hicks said, holding his finger to his lips.
“I wish that I brought news of some comforting solution to all who listen to me today. But I do not. I have never been a faithful churchgoer. Still, within myself I have held my own faith, and thought it wise, as the leader of this nation, not to impose this faith on others who might disagree. Now, however, through these extraordinary events, I have had my faith altered, and I can no longer keep silent. I believe we face incontrovertible evidence, proof if you will, that our days are numbered, and that our time on Earth — the time of the Earth itself — will soon be at an end. I have sought advice from those with more spiritual experience than I, and they have counseled me. I now believe that we are facing the Apocalypse predicted in the Revelation of John, and that on Earth, the forces of good and evil have made themselves known. Whether these forces be angels and demons, or extraterrestrials, seems to be of no importance whatsoever. I could say that I have spoken with an angel, but that does not seem literally true—”
“He’s even departing from his text. Damn him,” McClennan shouted, sitting with a bounce on the bed next to Hicks. “Doesn’t he understand what he’s unleashing? What social—”
“Please,” Hicks admonished.
“I can only conclude that in some fashion, our history on Earth has been judged, and we have been found inadequate. Whether the flaw lies in our bodies, or in our minds, it is clear that the history of human existence does not satisfy the Creator, and that He is working to wipe the slate clean, and begin again. To do this, He has sent mighty machines, mighty forces which could begin, at any moment, to heat this Earth in God’s forge, and beat it to pieces on a heavenly anvil.”
The President paused again. Raised voices on the floor of Congress threatened to drown him out, and the Speaker had to rap his gavel many long minutes. The camera pulled back to show Crockerman surrounded by a phalanx of Secret Service men, their faces grim, trying to look in all directions at once.
“Please,” the President pleaded. “I must conclude.”
The noise finally subsided. Sporadic shouts of anger and disbelief rose from the representatives.
“I can only say to my people, and the inhabitants of Earth, that the time has come for us all to pray fervently for salvation, in whatever form it might come, whether we can expect it or not, or even whether we truly deserve salvation. The Forge of God cannot be appeased, but perhaps there is hope for each of us, in our private thoughts, to make peace with God, and find a way out from under the blows of His anger and disappointment.”