Footfall (6 page)

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Authors: Larry Niven,Jerry Pournelle

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Adventure, #General, #sf, #Speculative Fiction, #Space Opera, #War, #Short Stories

BOOK: Footfall
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No one who knew them was at all surprised when Jenny went into Army Intelligence.

Ed Gillespie turned the Buick Riviera into the iron-gated drive at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. A uniformed policeman looked at Gillespie’s identity cards, then at a list on his clipboard, and waved them through. When they reached the garishly ornate building once known as Old State, then the Executive Office, and now called the “Old EOP,” a driver materialized. “I’ll park it for you, sir.”

A Marine opened the car door for Jenny, then stepped back and saluted. “General, Captain, if you’ll follow me, please …”

He led them across to the White House itself. From somewhere in the distance they heard the chatter of grade school children on a tour. The Marine led them through another corridor.

In all her years in Washington, Jenny had never been to the White House. Her parents and Colonel Weston had been to White House parties and even a state dinner; it seemed ridiculous for the Crichton girls to take a public guided tour. One day they’d be invited.

And this is the day, Jenny thought.

They came to another corridor. A young man in a gray suit waited there. “Eleven o’clock,” the Marine said.

“Right. Hi, I’m Jack Clybourne. I’m supposed to check your identification.”

He smiled as he said it, but he seemed very serious. He looked very young and clean-cut, and very athletic. He inspected General Gillespie, then Jenny.

They took out identification cards. Clybourne glanced at them, but Jenny thought he looked at them superficially. He was much more interested in the visitors than in their papers. Doesn’t miss a detail. Joe Gland, thinks he’s irresistible.

Finally he seemed satisfied and led them along a corridor to the Oval Office.

The interior looked very much the way it did on television, with the President seated behind the big desk. They were both in unifonn, so they saluted as they approached the desk.

David Coffey seemed embarrassed. He acknowledged their salutes with a wave. “Glad to see you.” He sounded as if he meant it. “Captain Jeanette Crichton,” he said carefully. His brows lifted slightly in thought, and Jenny was sure that he’d remember her name from now on. “And General Gillespie. Good to see you again.”

“Thank you, Mr. President,” Edmund said.

Ed’s as nervous as I am, Jenny thought. I didn’t think he would be. She glanced around the office. Behind the President, on a credenza, was a red telephone. The phone, Jenny thought. At SAC headquarters the general in command had two telephones, one red to communicate with his forces, and one gold. This would be the other end of the gold phone…

“Captain, this is Hap Aylesworth,” the President said. He indicated a seated man. Aylesworth’s face seemed flushed, and his necktie was loosened. He stood to shake hands with her.

“Please be seated,” the President said. “Now, Captain, tell me everything you know about this.”

She took the offered chair, sitting on its edge, both feet on the floor, feet together, her skin pulled down over her knees, as she’d been taught in officer’s training classes. “I don’t know much, Mr. President,” she said. “I was at the Mauna Loa Observatory.”

“How did you happen to be there?” Aylesworth asked.

“I was invited to Hawaii to address an engineering conference. I took a couple of extra days leave. While I was swimming I met Richard Owen, who turned out to be an astronomer, and he invited me up to see the observatory.”

“Owen,” Aylesworth said pensively.

“Come on, Hap, we have confirmation from every place we logically could get confirmation,” the President said. He smiled thinly. “Mr. Aylesworth can’t quite get over the notion that this is a put-up job. Could it have been?”

Jenny frowned in thought. “Yes, sir, but I don’t believe it. What would be the motivation?”

“There must be forty science-fiction novels with that plot,” Aylesworth said. “Scientists get together. Convince the stupid political and military people that the aliens are coming. Unite Earth, end wars …”

“The Air Force Observatory reports the same thing,” Ed Gillespie said. “Now that they know what to look for.”

The President nodded. “As do a number of other sources. Hap, if it’s a plot, there are an awful lot of plotters involved. You’d think one would have spilled the beans by now.”

“Yes, sir,” Aylesworth said. “And I suppose we’re sure this isn’t something the Russians cooked up to get us off guard.”

Both Jenny and General Gillespie shook their heads. “Not a chance,” Gillespie said.

“No, I suppose not,” Aylesworth said. “My apologies, Captain, I’m having trouble getting used to the notion of little green men from outer space.”

“Or big black ones,” Ed Gillespie said.

The President eyed Gillespie in curiosity. “What makes you say that? Surely you don’t have any knowledge?”

“No, sir. But they’re as likely to be big and black as they are to be little and green. If we had any idea of where they came from, we might be able to figure something out.”

“Saturn,” Jenny said. “Dr. Mouton had a computer program.” Alice Mouton had wanted to lecture, and Jenny had listened carefully. “We don’t know how fast they came, and Saturn must have moved since they left, but if you give them almost any decent velocity, they started in a patch of sky that had Saturn in it.”

“Saturn,” Aylesworth said. “Saturnians?”

“I doubt it,” Ed Gillespie said. “Saturn just doesn’t get enough sunlight energy for a complex organism to evolve there. Much less a civilization.”

“Sure about that?” the President asked.

“No, sir,”

“Neither is the National Academy of Sciences,” the President said. “At least those I could get hold of. But the consensus is that the ship must have gone to Saturn from somewhere else. Now all we have to do is find the somewhere else.”

“Maybe we can ask them,” Jenny said.

“Oddly enough, we thought of that,” Aylesworth said.

“With what result?” Gillespie asked.

“None.” Aylesworth shrugged. “So far they haven’t answered. Anyway. Mr. President, I’m satisfied. It’s real.”

“Good,” the President said. “In that case, if you’d ask Mr. Dawson and Admiral Carrell to come in …”

Gillespie and Jenny stood. Wes Dawson came in first. “Hello, Ed, Jenny,” he said.

“Ah. You both know Congressman Dawson, then,” the President said.

“Yes, sir,” Ed Gillespie said.

“Of course you would,” David Coffey said. “You told Mr. Dawson about the alien ship. Have you met Admiral Carrell?”

“Yes, sir,” Ed said. “But I think Jenny hasn’t.”

Admiral Carrell was approaching retirement age, and he looked it, with silver hair and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. He shook hands with her, masculine fashion. His hand was firm, and so was his voice. His manner made it clear that he knew precisely who Jenny was. He waited until the President invited them to sit, then again until Jenny was seated, before he took his own seat. “Nice work, Captain.” he said. “Not every officer would have realized the significance of what you saw.”

Interesting, she thought. Does he take this much trouble with everyone he meets? “Thank you, Admiral.”

Congressman Dawson had taken the chair closest to the President. “How will Congress treat this, Wes?” the President asked.

“I don’t know them all, Mr. President,” Dawson said.

“Will I get support for a declaration of emergency?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Dawson said. “There will certainly be opposition.”

“Damn fools,” Admiral Carrell said.

“What makes you think the aliens won’t be friendly?” Wes Dawson demanded.

“The aliens may be friendly, but a Russian mobilization without reaction from us would be a disaster. It might even tempt them to something they normally wouldn’t think of,” Carrell spoke evenly.

“Really?” Dawson said. His tone made it less a question than a statement.

“Will they mobilize?” the President asked.

“We’ll let Captain Crichton answer,” the Admiral said. “Perhaps Mr. Dawson will be more likely to believe someone he knows. Captain?”

I’ve just been set up, Jenny thought. So that’s how it’s done. But I’ve no choice. “Yes, sir, they will.” She hesitated. “And if we don’t react, there could be trouble.”

“Why is that?” the President prompted.

“Sir, it’s part of their doctrine. If they could liberate the world from capitalism without risk to the homeland, and didn’t do it, they’d be traitors to their own doctrine.”

Admiral Carrell said, “They’re jamming all our broadcasts, and they haven’t told their people anything about an alien coming.”

“It’s too big to keep secret,” Dawson said. “Isn’t it?”

Once again. Admiral Carrell turned to Jenny. This time he merely nodded to her.

Is this a test? she wondered. “Whatever it is Sir, the East Germans and Poles are bound to find out. Unless the Soviets want to completely disrupt their economy, they can’t cut off all communication from the Eastern European satellites, so the news is bound to get to Russia. To the cities, anyway.”

The Admiral nodded behind half-closed eyes.

“Meanwhile, whatever the Russians are doing, there’s an alien ship coming,” the President said. “It may be that in a few weeks all our little squabbles will look very silly.”

“Yes, sir,” Wes Dawson said. “Very silly.”

“There are other possibilities.” Admiral Carrell spoke in low tones, but everyone listened. Even the President.

“Such as?” Dawson demanded.

“I want to assemble a staff of experts at Colorado Springs. One task will be to look at as many possibilities as we can.”

“Very reasonable,” the President said. “Why Colorado Springs?”

“The hole,” Admiral Carrell said.

NORAD, Jenny thought. The North American Air Defense Command base, buried deep under the granite of Cheyenne Mountain. It was supposed to be the safest place in the United States, although there were some arguments about just how hardened it really was…

“Will you be going out there?” the President asked.

“Not permanently.”

“But you’ll be busy. Meanwhile, I need someone to keep me informed.” The President looked thoughtful. “We have two problems. Aliens, and the Soviets. Captain, you’re a Soviet expert, and you discovered the alien ship.”

“I didn’t discover it, sir.”

“Near enough,” the President said. “You recognized its importance. And you already have all the clearances you need, or you wouldn’t be in military intelligence.” He touched a button on the desk. The Chief of Staff came in immediately.

“Jim,” the President said, “I’m commander in chief. Does that mean I can promote people?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Promote this young lady to major, and have her assigned to the staff. She’ll work with you and the Admiral to keep me briefed on what the aliens and the Soviets are doing.” He chuckled. “Major Crichton and General Gillespie are military. I can give them orders without going through civil service hearings. At least I assume I can?”

“Sure,” Frantz said.

Major Crichton. Just like that!

“Good,” the President was saying. “General Gillespie, Congressman Dawson wants to go meet the aliens in space.”

Ed Gillespie nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“You approve?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jenny smiled thinly. Ed would approve more if it was going to be him meeting the aliens. For that matter, I’d like to go.

“Help him do it,” the President said. “I want you to work with him. Go to Houston and personally see to his training. It’s possible you’ll go along, too, although that’s up to the Russians.” He grimaced slightly, then glanced at his watch. “They’re expecting both of you over at NASA headquarters. I wanted to see you before I made up my mind. If you hurry you won’t be too late”

“Yes, sir.” Ed glanced at Jenny but didn’t say anything.

The President stood, and everyone else stood with him. “The Soviet Ambassador has demanded an official explanation of why news of this importance was transmitted via private telephone call, rather than through official channels,” he said. “One of your first tasks, Major, will be to think of ways to convince them that this isn’t a trick.”

“That may not be easy to do,” Admiral Carrell said.

“I realize that,” the President said. “Others will be working on the problem.” He indicated dismissal: “Major, they’ll find you a place to work, Lord knows where, and don’t be shy about asking for equipment. Mr. Frantz will see that you get what you want. I’ll expect daily reports, sent through Admiral Carrell. If he’s not available you’ll brief me yourself.”

Jenny’s thoughts raced giddily. Here I’ve been promoted and am in the middle of one of the most unique events in history and I’ve been assigned to the National Security Council and personal Presidential briefings in the Oval Office! All because I went for a swim and let an astronomer pick me up in Hawaii. My friend Barb believes nothing is ever a coincidence. Synchronicity. Maybe there’s something to it…

“Now all I have to do is figure out where to put you,” the Chief of Staff was saying. “The President will want you in this building. I guess I’ll have to exile someone else to Old EOP.”

He was striding briskly down the hail. Jenny followed. They reached a desk at the end of the hall. The man who’d led her to the Oval Office was seated there.

“Jack,” the Chief of Staff said, “meet another member of our family, Major Jeanette Crichton. The President has assigned her to his staff. NSC. She’ll have regular personal access.”

“Right.” He studied her again.

“This is Jack Clybourne,” Jim Frantz said. “Secret Service.”

“I worry about keeping the chief healthy,” Clyboume said.

“Get word to all the security people, Jack.” Frantz turned to Jenny. “Major I’d like you to check in this evening about four … I should have some room for you by then. Meanwhile — oh. You came with General Gillespie. You’ve lost your ride.”

“No problem sir.”

“Right. Thanks.” He started down the hall, stopped, and turned his head but not his body. “Welcome aboard,” he said over his shoulder. He scurried off. Jenny giggled, and Clybourne gave her an answering smile. “He’s a worrier, that one.”

“I gathered. What’s next?”

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