Impact

98

Ford explained everything, from start to finish--except where he'd sent the hard drive. "All of you here are treating this like a national-security emergency," he said. "It isn't. It's a planetary-security emergency. You need new thinking. That's why I sent the hard drive--the real one--to the press, as well as backup DVDs of the same information to a number of news outlets and organizations. You can't stop it. But you can prepare for it. I set it up so that you have about three days before the news breaks. You have seventy-two hours to prepare for it, to contact heads of state, figure out a coherent response. Yes, the world will panic. You're going to need that panic. Nothing big ever gets done except in crisis mode. Now you have your crisis: use it."

The national security advisor, Manfred, rose, his face drawn, his eyes icy, his lips drawn back to expose small white teeth. "To clarify: you distributed this classified material to the press?"

"Yes. And not just the press."

Manfred made a sharp gesture to the two duty officers standing at the door. "Take this man into custody. I want you to find out from him who's got the information and I want its release prevented."

Ford looked at the president but he wasn't going to stop it. As the duty officers stepped forward, Lockwood suddenly spoke. "I think we should discuss what Ford is saying. Don't dismiss it out of hand. We're in uncharted territory here."

The NSA turned on him. In a cold, clipped voice, Manfred said: "Dr. Lockwood, you of all people should understand the meaning of the word 'classified.' " He emphasized it with a tug on the knot of his tie.

The duty officers took Ford, one by each arm. "Come with us, sir."

"You're falling into the old game," said Ford quietly. "Listen, people: the Earth is under attack. That weapon can destroy us in the blink of an eye. In three more days Deimos will be oriented to fire at us again--and this time it may be for keeps. Everyone dies. Extinction. Gone."

"Spare us the lecture and take him out!" the NSA yelled.

Ford looked at the president, and saw with dismay that his face was a mask of vacillation. Lockwood, intimidated, had fallen silent. Nobody was going to defend him. Nobody. Still, what was done was done. In three days, the world would know.

The two officers pulled him toward the door, Manfred following. As they exited the door and passed through the cell-phone block curtain, Ford's phone began to ring.

He answered it.

"Take that away from him," said Manfred, in the doorway.

"Sir, the phone?" asked the duty officer, holding out his hand.

"Wyman?" came the voice over the phone. "It's Abbey. We're at the Earth Station on Crow Island. We sent a message to Deimos--and got a reply."

"Sir, the phone, now." The officer reached for it.

"Wait!" Ford cried, but the duty officer grabbed it, wrestled it away, shut it. The other officer shoved Ford toward the elevator.

"Wait!" Ford cried, turning to Manfred. "They've received a message from the Deimos Machine!"

Manfred slammed the door to the Situation Room. The duty officers, now joined by several Secret Service agents, dragged Ford toward the elevator.

"You're making a grave mistake," Ford began, but realized from their stolid faces that any talk was hopeless.

The elevator door opened and he was manhandled inside. It rose to the State Floor and then they led him out, through the entrance hall, and outside, where a Paddy Wagon was waiting for him. At that moment one of the Secret Service officers paused, touched his earpiece, and listened.

Then he turned to Ford, face as imperturbable as ever.

"They want you back upstairs, sir."

_______

Back in the meeting, the president was standing at the end of the table, Manfred next to him, his face almost purple with rage.

"What's this about a message? I want to know what the hell you were talking about."

"It seems," said Ford, "my assistant sent a message to the alien machine on Deimos and received a reply."

"How?"

"Using the Earth Station in Muscongus Bay, the one on Crow Island."

A silence. "And what was the message?" the president asked.

"I don't know. They took away my phone. May I suggest that we call them and find out?"

"This is preposterous--" said Manfred, but he was silenced by an irritated gesture from the president.

The president pointed at the phone by his elbow. "Call them. We'll put it on speaker."

The guards released him. An assistant handed him a paper with the Earth Station telephone number on it. Ford approached, picked up the receiver, and punched it in.

What in hell, he thought as the phone began to ring, had Abbey done now?