Little Green Men (36 page)

"What are they going do with us?"

"Just keep us here until it's over. After tomorrow, we're has-beens. It's their show. And there goes my leverage with the president.
I
doubt he'll be addressing the nation from the Oval Office to tell them about MJ-Twelve."

"I've been thinking," Scrubbs said. "You think Falopian could be MJ-One?"

"It had occurred," Banion said. "Murf?"

"MJ-Two? But I have to say, if those two are running the show, it doesn't speak very well of your agency. It's a wonder you got anything done. We were almost home free."

"1
thought you said you didn't want it back."

"Well," Banion said, looking around, "it would have been an improvement on this."

"Good morning, Peter, the sound you hear is the president's helicopter escort. As you can see, it is quite an
impressive
display of firepower, eight gunships. There are literally hundreds of Secret Service agents at the launch facility. The perimeter is being patrolled by scores of armored vehicles. Three divisions of elite, battle-ready troops have been mobilized and are standing by. We also understand that Special Forces paratroops are circling in C-One-thirties in the event rapid response is called for."

"Brad, are the Militiamen expected to
do
anything at this point? The launch is only twenty minutes away. What are their intentions? Have they said?"

"Peter, last night Dr. Danton Falopian, one of the Millennial Man Militia leaders here, gave a speech in which he urged
restraint
on everyone's part."

"What's happened to Jack Banion, whose idea this all was?"

"We're
told,
Peter, though we cannot confirm it, that Banion was
relieved
of his leadership role in some kind of palace coup. Sources close to the leadership tell us that Dr. Falopian and Colonel Murfletit felt that his approach was too, quote, confrontational and dangerous. Falopian is seen as a moderating influence."

"I'd say," Banion said, watching in the trailer, "that they have struck their deal with the White House."

"Thank you. Brad. Let's go now to the helicopter pad at the Kennedy Space Center. As you can see, they are keeping us back quite a ways
...
Marine One
is landing. The President and First Lady disembarking . . . being met by NASA administrators . . . surrounded by security agents
..
. moving briskly into the building. Brad, apart from all the drama going on, I would think that this would have to be a very satisfying moment for the president. He has pushed very hard, as you know, for
Celeste
funding, taking a lot of criticism for it. Even for the timing of the launch itself."

"That's right. Peter.
Celeste
was originally supposed to be completed next January, but then the date was moved up."

"Good timing for the president's re
-
election?"

"NASA has said that it had nothing to do with it, but it certainly does seem like a lift for the president, coming just a few days before the election."

"The president is now in the launch facility
...
he is shaking hands with the mission controllers
...
Do I understand he will speak to the astronauts?"

"That's right. Peter. Of course, they are already
aboard Celeste,
but he will speak to them by phone and extend his wishes for a successful mission. We understand he will thank Amber Lamb, the fitness instructor on
Celeste's
crew. She was the one. you'll recall, who urged the president to attend this launch at a time when he was taking political heat for it."

"Brad, is the plan still for the president to press the ignition button?"

"That's right. That is a presidential first, of course. We do have a close-up of the ignition button on the console. The red button there . . . that ignites the three million pounds of fuel in
Celeste's
booster rockets, sending her on her journey skyward, on this historic journey, completing America's platform for the twenty-first century, as it has been called. Just two minutes from lift-off. Peter?"

"The president has now taken his place at the console . . . smiles all around . . . he's putting on his headset so he can communicate
..
. This is always a tense time in the control room, as it of course must be for the astronauts. John Glenn, first American to orbit space, once said, 'How reassuring to think that everything underneath you came from the lowest bidder.' . . . Here we go."

"We are go for launch."

"Ten seconds
..."

NINETEEN

The explosion, which could be detected as far away as the Florida-Georgia border, could certainly be felt inside the Banion flying saucer trailer, where it wreaked havoc. By now, Scrubbs was an old hand at being hurtled through the air by percussive blasts. But for Banion, as well as the other occupants, it was a novel experience. After colliding with a bulkhead, he found himself supine, looking up at the ceiling, trying to take in what had put him there. Renira. to judge from the indignant noises she was making - the word
bloody
featuring prominently in her commentary - was all right. Elspeth. too, seemed alive. To judge from the groaning coming from whatever part of the trailer his head had embedded itself in, Scrubbs would survive, with medical attention.

The TV bolted down, continued to emit images and sound.

"Peter, there's been a
tremendous
explosion
..."

Well, Banion thought, that much was obvious. He craned his head, ever so gently, lest he find that it had separated from his neck, so that he could see the screen. It showed - well, it showed a large cloud of smoke, with little trails going off in different directions, eerily reminiscent of another explosion that had once taken place here. The anchorman was making inquiries of his reporters as to the disposition of the astronauts. As yet there wasn't much information, but now the focus of attention was shifting to the president.

"Let's look at the tape." the anchorman said.

The tape showed an exuberant president, proudly wearing his white engineer's gown and colorful
Celeste
mission vest.

"Ten . . . nine . . .
eight
.
The
camera closed in on the presidential index finger pressing down on the red ignition button. There was a moment's hesitation, and then -
boom
- the camera went wobbly. When it got back into focus, the presidential visage could no longer be called a beacon of national pride. Most commentators described it as looking "stunned." And well they might have. Three million pounds of combusting solid rocket propellant does have that effect, especially on the features of the person who, however blameless at the technical level, ignites it.

The images on the screen then became frenetic as the Secret Service grabbed their principal by the arms and torso, and, forming a protective scrum around him, got him the hell out of there, knocking down NASA technicians like tenpins at a bowling alley. To judge from the number of machine guns the Secret Service displayed, they seemed to be under the general impression that the
Celeste
explosion was the preamble to a spectacular attempt on the president's life by NASA technicians. But then, in this harried atmosphere, who could have blamed them?

The next images showed even greater heights of security, with Special Forces commandos, bristling with even greater firepower, rushing to surround the presidential helicopter, whose blades were already rotating, amidst a whining of turbine engines.

"The astronauts!" The anchorman was thumping his desk. "What about the astronauts?"

"We don't know," his correspondent on the scene replied.

"Well find
out!"
He thumped again.

Banion was riveted, but at this point his viewing was interrupted by the FBI paramilitary unit that burst into the trailer, shouting bloody murder, and arrested him and the others.

The worst part, aside from the food - if it could technically be called that - was the isolation. They gave him no papers, no TV no phone. He had to wear a ridiculous orange jumpsuit that felt like it was made of paper. They'd taken away his watch, presumably so that he couldn't hang himself with the wristband. He didn't know how long he'd been there, or whether it was day or night outside. It occurred to him that, after twenty-four hours,
habeas corpus
ought to kick in and they should charge him formally with some crime or let him go; at the very least, they should have let him make his phone call. God only knew what statute they were holding him under. Terrorism? Threatening the president? All he knew was,
Celeste
had blown up and they were treating him as if it were his fault.

In the midst of these joyless ruminations, the bars opened and several grim-faced men entered, the grimmest of the lot identifying himself as FBI Deputy Director Bargenberfer. He announced that Banion was being held on charges of conspiracy to incite violence; further, that he was under investigation for willful destruction of federal property and conspiracy to commit murder using a weapon of mass destruction. And that was just hello. It took the deputy director several minutes just to cover everything that Banion was alleged to have done, by which point, the merits of their case notwithstanding, Banion decided it was prudent to tell them to piss off and talk to his lawyer.

ASTRONAUTS ARE "SHAKEN BUT SAFE" AFTER CELESTE BOOSTER ROCKETS EXPLODE AS PRESIDENT PRESSES IGNITION BUTTON

Banion's attorney, Barrett Prettyman, Jr., had brought as many newspapers and magazines as he could carry. Banion was almost as eager for news as he was to discuss how to make it more difficult for the government to send him to the electric chair.

The cover of
Time
showed
Celeste
blowing up.
Newsweek -
whose coverage had favored the president's opponent - showed a grainy close-up of the presidential finger on the ignition button, accompanied by the cover line
whoops
. Banion drew some sustenance from the fact that the other person the media were most avid to blame for this catastrophe was - the president.

The White House briefing room had not been this lively since the day a president had announced that he had not had sex with a twenty-something White House intern.

"Did the president hit the button before he was supposed to?"

"Of course not. The president was just following orders. Let me rephrase that -"

"What about this report that the White House told NASA to move the launch up to before the election?"

"That is . . . there's no
...
I have nothing on that."

"Sources within NASA are saying that."

"That may be, but I still don't have anything on it."

"Does the president feel remorse about what happened?"

"Of course not. Let me rephrase that. Of course he feels badly for those who were killed, and his thoughts go out to their families. But I would emphasize to you this was not his fault. The president did not cause the explosion. 1 want to emphasize that. Everyone needs to be very
clear on
that point. . ."

"We have a source inside NASA who says the White House secretly directed them to move the launch date up before the election, despite certain safety issues NASA had."

"I'm still not going to categorize that beyond saying . . . what I've already said to you on that."

NASA NOW SAYS WHITE HOUSE MOVED UP LAUNCH DATE

"Good evening. It has been a day of charges and countercharges between an
embattled
White House and NASA. As the investigation into the
Celeste
explosion continues, both parties are trying to distance themselves from the disaster by pointing fingers at each other. Contrary to earlier denials, NASA now says the White House
did
exert pressure on them, as far back as last summer, to move the date of the launch up to
before
the presidential election. The White House maintains that is not true. But the
Celeste
blow
-
up may already have had a catastrophic impact on the president's re
-
election campaign. We go now to the White House, to our correspondent, Sam Donaldson
..
."

"Peter, the question they're asking here today isn't whether the president can now win re
-
election but whether he might have to resign
before
the election
..."

U.S. IS PREPARING TO INDICT JOHN BANION FOR CONSPIRACY TO INCITE VIOLENCE; POSSIBLY SABOTAGE. WRONGFUL DEATH

The food had improved, anyway. They had moved him closer to Washington, to a federal detention facility where most of his fellow prisoners were white-collar criminals of varying distinction, and decent conversationalists. He could watch television to his heart's content. Barrett sent over all the newspapers and magazines each day so that he could have an informed wallow in how his predicament was playing out there. His mood was, surprisingly, not too bad. Perhaps he had been so buffeted by vicissitudes that he was by now inured to horrible news. Barrett said not to worry about the death penalty - that it was just the AG showing off. But it was clear from the media that the country was in a hanging mood. The papers were reporting the latest Internet dirt. Pierre Salinger.* who had made a sensation with his report that the U.S. military had shot down TWA Flight 800 with a missile, was now alleging that Banion had been paid by the government to stir up trouble in order to provoke a military takeover of the space program. If only Roz were around. She'd have enjoyed these ironies.