Unpopular Science

Chapter 32

Harold Winston Smith had waded into ethical quagmires more times than he could imagine, and his own indomitable self-control and analytical abilities gave him a unique advantage in determining what was ethical in the face of conflicting moral judgments.

Smith was not emotionless, as some accused him of being. He was not without imagination, as several former CIA psychiatrists had concluded from extensive testing. But these emotions were extravagances of human cognition, and with a little self-control they could be submerged in the psyche, making it easier to weigh the opposing sides and make the most ethical choice.

Smith was also uniquely disinclined to regrets and remorse. Once he made a decision he knew was the correct one, he did not allow himself to second-guess or wallow in doubt. That was a waste of time and energy, and served no purpose.

So when Dr. Smith decided it was time to violate the privacy of the President of the United States, he did so with a clear conscience and absolute lack of self-interest.

He was not inclined to believe that the President was a traitor, but someone close to the President probably was, based on recent events. The intelligence needed to stage the break-ins in Arizona and New Mexico, in Virginia and Illinois and Oregon, had all come from various government agencies. This intelligence didn’t coalesce in any manner below the executive, level—either the President or someone close to him was feeding the data to the thieves, or the thieves had scrounged the information themselves from a variety of secure federal agencies. The latter source seemed less likely to Smith.

So, what top-level officials might be corrupt? The President. The cabinet. One or two advisers. They were supposed to represent the greatest American patriots, but Smith knew from experience they sometimes turned rotten.

CURE had extracted a few bad apples from the governmental barrel in its history. In fact, quite recently CURE proved that a powerful U.S. senator from California was found to be selling U.S. war plans—hundreds of documented military options for almost any Crisis, in almost any conceivable theater, all sold to one of the worst former tyrants in the Middle East.

Smith was therefore quite surprised when he heard the President make his very first phone call to the traitor himself.

“Senator Whiteslaw, this is the President.”

“Good evening, Mr. President. What can I do for you?”

“I need your expertise. Herb, one more time.”

“Always happy to help.”

Smith had only just programmed the wiretap and had hardly expected to have this fall into his lap within three minutes.

“The FEM system is a washout. It failed a major test,” the President said.

“I wasn’t aware a test was scheduled,” said Senator Whiteslaw questioningly.

‘It was an impromptu sort of thing, but it was real-world enough to prove the FEM system is really flawed.”

“They are still being optimized. Their capabilities are getting better every day. Who tested them?”

“Experts. Herb, the FEDs never even knew these guys were on the grounds. And now I’ve got a bunch of fake squirrel tails sitting on my desk.”

“Mr. President, you allowed them to destroy the units?”

“No. They just did.”

“But, Mr. President, that’s got to be a violation of a bunch of federal laws, and it’s not exactly professional behavior—you should have these men detained!”

“Whiteslaw, shut up.”

Silence. Smith wondered what further surprises were coming.

“How can I help you, Mr. President?” Senator Herbert Whiteslaw said finally..

“I need to know if I have a spy in my cabinet.”

“What!”

“You heard me. We’ve got a technology advantage on the rest of the world. It cost us billions and it took years to get here. It’s being erased more every damn day. I don’t want to be the President who allows the U.S.A. to go from superpower to just plain global power. Anybody can be a global power. For God’s sake, France is a global power!” The President took a deep breath. “I need to put a stop to this.”

“You want me to go back undercover, Mr. President?”

“You tell me. Herb. Will it do any good?”

“I can’t promise anything, but I do still have my connections in the Middle East. They’re the kind of people who might know who is selling the plans. Who knows where the trail might lead?”

“Good. Do it.”

“Mr. President, you are asking me to risk my reputation, my future in politics.”

“You’ll be sanctioned by me.”

“Sanctioned?”

“I’ll back you up. Herb, a hundred-and-ten-percent. You get busted. I’ll go public. You’ll come out looking like a hero.”

“All right, Mr. President. I’ll get started.”

The call ended. Mark Howard yanked open the door and pushed his way inside, finding the CURE director looking thoughtful.

“Dr. Smith?”

“Mark, listen to this.”

Smith replayed the just-ended conversation. Mark Howard recognized the voice of Senator Herbert Whiteslaw at once and became visibly alarmed. By the end of the call he looked like a man who didn’t know what to think.

“What’s your take?”

Mark shook his head. “I honestly can’t tell you,” he said. “I thought Whiteslaw was in WTTSEC.”

“The records say he is being held in the witness protection program while his case is sorted out,” Smith said, leaning over his screen. “The highest-security files have him documented as a potential top-level traitor. He was told he is under danger of assassination and was put in the witness protection system for his own safety, but the Homeland Security is monitoring him for evidence of betrayal.”

“The evidence CURE had,” Mark Howard said. “And altered.”

‘It served its purpose,” Smith said. “Still, I wouldn’t have given my approval for using it if I thought the President would free the man.”

“So why did the President free Whiteslaw, and create this fiction in the records of the federal intelligence departments?” Mark asked.

Smith stared into space, weighing the possibilities. Some of those possibilities were quite troubling, and he jumped when the red phone rang.

Smith and Mark Howard stared at one another as Smith picked up the receiver and punched on the speaker. “Yes, Mr. President?”

“So, Smith, what’s your verdict?”

Mark’s eyes grew wider.

“My verdict on what, Mr. President?”

“I’d rather not play games, Smith. I bet you tapped my line. Maybe you have had my line tapped from the very start, but I’m guessing you heard the call I just made.”

“Yes, Mr. President. Mr. Howard and I were just discussing it.”

“You have some questions to ask and they’re pretty important ones. If I give you the wrong answers, then you’ll have to make some mighty big decisions.”

Dr. Smith felt the rumble in his chest as the mighty weight of all this settled into his chest like a quarry full of massive boulders. “Yes, I understand perfectly.”

Mark Howard did not. Not quite.

“You had better ask those questions. Smith, so we can move on. One way or another. I’ll call you back in five minutes.”