Thunderbird (8 page)

Oft expectation fails and most oft there

Where most it promises, and oft it hits

Where hope is coldest and despair most fits.

—Shakespeare,
All's Well That Ends Well
, 1602

I
T
HAD
BEEN
a long day. President Taylor had attended meetings with a congressional delegation trying to put together legislation to do something about the country's homeless population, with a State Department team trying to calm rising tensions between Gaza and Israel, and with military advisors pressing him to invest more money in a jet fighter the Pentagon did not need. He'd been called to the Situation Room to decide on a response to another terrorist strike in Syria, and had taken time to speak with some third graders who'd been on a White House tour. Whenever the opportunity presented itself, he'd gotten to a television to watch the events playing out in North Dakota. He was glad Walker was on the job out there. Thank God it wasn't some political hack in charge.

Someone knocked on the door. Alice. She looked upset. “Mr. President,” she said, “check the TV.”

“What's going on?”

“Aliens, sir.”

No. Please. He visualized green-skinned creatures wielding hand
weapons that fired lightning bolts. He grabbed the remote and turned on the television. April was on-screen, describing what she'd seen, creatures that looked somewhat like us but were smaller and were just out walking around. Their features were a bit different, eyes farther apart, ears a bit larger. The good news was that there was no indication they'd realized we were there. And Walker had shown the good judgment to cancel the mission and pull his people out before whoever was over there found out they'd been visited.

He pressed the intercom. “Alice, get me Chairman Walker.”

Moments later, his phone sounded. “Hello, Mr. President.”

“Hi, Jim. Looks as if you had an interesting day.”

“I'll tell you, sir. It was a scare. But our people handled it exactly as they were supposed to.”

“They arrived inside a large building?”

“Yes. Fortunately, it was empty.”

“You're sure the aliens don't know we were there?”

“No, sir. There's no way to be certain. A few of them were outside the building. We saw them go by through windows. None of them reacted in any way, or seemed to be in a position to see our people. So it doesn't look as if we were spotted. But there's a possibility there were surveillance cameras. We have no way to know for certain.”

“Okay. Can you post a few extra security people in the Roundhouse for the next few days?”

“If the aliens respond, if someone comes back through the link, they'd arrive in the Cupola first. Before they could come here.”

“Okay. How about we put some people in the Cupola then? If we were seen, I want to know about it.”

“Yes, sir. We've already done that.”

“I can send some marshals and beef things up a bit, if you like.”

“Not necessary, Mr. President.” He hesitated. “Well, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea. Send about a dozen. Okay?”

“You'll have them before the end of the day.”

“Good.”

“Something else, Jim. I think it would be a good idea to clear everyone out of the Roundhouse when you don't have a mission running, except the security force.”

“I agree.”

“Also, please notify me if someone does show up. And instruct your people not to behave in an aggressive manner unless they're attacked, okay?”

“My thoughts exactly, Mr. President.”

“Is there anything more? Anything you didn't tell the media?”

“No. They've got everything.”

“All right. Thanks, Jim. Your people did a good job. And by the way, I have one more suggestion. It would be a good idea to install a destruct mechanism that would enable you to level the place if you need to. I'll arrange to have my people take care of it.”

“Yes, sir. Except that it would be a good idea to give me control of it.”

“What happens if there's an emergency, and they can't reach you, Jim? Best would be to assign one of your on-site security people to make the call.”

•   •   •

I
VY
B
ANNER
HAD
been off the Rez for almost nine years, and she'd been shocked to hear from James Walker. She'd been following the stories about the Roundhouse, of course, and had been watching for an indication that
someone
was looking seriously at an electrical system that was still functioning after thousands of years. A few months ago, she would have denied the possibility. And, in fact, she still suspected there was a communication breakdown somewhere in the reports. “Yes,” she told him, “I'd be delighted to look at it. Absolutely. When do you want me there?”

•   •   •

B
RAD
HAD
GOTTEN
one of the scientists as a guest for
Grand Forks Live
. That had been the principal reason he'd gone to the Roundhouse. Arthur Lennon, a chemist from Oxford, agreed reluctantly and appeared the
following morning. Brad had seen the switchboard light up before, but on this occasion it exploded.

“Professor Lennon, when are we going back to talk to the aliens?”

“Are they dangerous?”

“Professor, the previous caller wanted to know whether they're a risk to us. Where's his head? How could they not be?”

“I think it's crazy not to destroy the Roundhouse. Are we going to wait until it's too late?”

“Have we made any ground trying to figure out how the technology works? I'd love to be able to step onto a grid down at the bus station and walk out the other end in Fargo.”

•   •   •

“I
WAS
ABLE
to listen to your show today,” said Donna. It had snowed, and the schools were closed. She was a fifth-grade teacher. “Your callers were preoccupied with the alien city, but they're still asking why
you
don't make the trip to Eden.”

“It happens every morning.”

“Is it really true that April hasn't asked you to do it?”

“Yes, it is. She hasn't said a word.”

“Good. Let's hope it stays that way.” She was relaxed on the sofa with an open copy of
Time
on her lap. Classical music leaked out softly from the kitchen. Donna was probably the only woman in the country who had to listen to Dvorak before she could make dinner.

“I'm sure it will,” said Brad.

“What would you do if you got the invitation?”

He made a face signifying a difficult call. “I know you wouldn't want me to go. But I don't see how I could say no.” Mostly because his callers, if they found out about it, would conclude he was afraid.

“Please don't go near it, Brad,” she said. “It's crazy. You don't know what might happen. I don't want to lose you. Promise me?”

Brad was aware he looked pretty good, tall, broad-shouldered, strong
features, deep baritone. At an early age he'd thought he would have liked to be a firefighter, but then he'd discovered that heights made him nervous. He'd also considered a career as a state policeman. Riding a motorcycle as a member of the Highway Patrol seemed like a much better way to earn a living than sitting in an office somewhere. But he wasn't sure he'd be good during shootouts. Or even pulling people over and giving them tickets.

So eventually he'd become a staff assistant at KLYM, had taken advantage of an opportunity to demonstrate his on-air abilities when two of the station's hosts had come down with the flu at the same time, and became Matt's first choice as a replacement when one of those guys moved on. It was an odd concurrence of events because his old reluctance about confronting people had gone away when somebody handed him a microphone. But he knew that his appearance didn't match his courage. With luck, April would not ask him.

“You're probably right, Donna,” he said. “Anyhow, I don't think Matt would want it to happen either.”

That was not true, of course. If Brad was given an opportunity to go to the Roundhouse, Matt would have pushed him out the door. And Donna knew that as well as he did. But he went on pretending even though something unsettling had shown up in Donna's eyes.

Keep your mouth shut and your eyes open.

—Samuel Palmer,
Moral Essays on Proverbs
, 1710

I
VY
B
ANNER
DISMANTLED
the section of wall in which the icons were embedded. Adam Sky, watching her, had not been happy. But the chairman had told him to let her have her way, which, of course, he did. But he thought it was just a matter of time before the lights went out.

Ivy was middle-aged and reminded him of his aunt Shappa, a pleasant lady with chestnut hair and dark brown eyes that could become lasers if someone got in her way. Ivy inspected every inch of the building, climbed onto the roof, where she tried unsuccessfully to scrape samples, took readings of the soft glow that emanated from the structure at night, opened panels he hadn't even noticed in the grid and removed equipment he'd never seen before.

She took the icons out of the wall. They were affixed to plates. She manipulated the plates and pressed them. Sometimes the luminous cloud appeared on the grid. Sometimes not.

She moved the icons around, placing, for example, the arrow where
the one that looked like smoke coming up from a campfire had been. Sometimes the locations that had stayed dark before lit up after the change.

“You having any luck figuring it out?” he asked.

“Getting there,” she said. That was about as specific as she got.

•   •   •

T
HE
ALIEN
CITY
led the news for the next several days until a pair of lunatics took AK-47s into a movie theater and killed half a dozen people watching a romantic comedy. That sent Brad's callers into one of their periodic debates about gun rights.

He was much more than simply the host of
Grand Forks Live
. He was also the operations manager at KLYM. That meant he handled all of the station's computers and technical issues that did not require calling in an engineer. He was also responsible for listening to the product, that is, to the broadcasts, to ensure the station maintained a reasonable quality level. He oversaw the staff, created their schedules, and provided advice on performances. He supplied tools and equipment, was responsible to ensure that everything was in place and functioning, and to see that it was upgraded as needed.

Relationships with various agencies tended to be his responsibility also, in order to ensure that KLYM maintained a visible presence in the community. If a major charity event was going on—an auction for the battered women's home, a Christmas bailout for the underemployed—he was the face of the organization. On the side, he put together proposals for sponsorship and advised visiting clients on ways to improve their business. In plain English, he assisted with contracts, wrote a lot of the commercials, and even delivered a few of them.

He routinely came in before dawn because he did the early news and weather at five. After that he had to take care of assorted staffing and operational duties. At six, he usually put everything aside to begin prepping for the call-in show, which began at seven.

Two days after the movie shootings, April accepted his invitation and
came into the studio the following morning. Brad reviewed with her the kinds of calls they could expect and asked whether she had any questions.

“No,” she said. “I can tell you that I wish there were a way to convey to your listeners what it feels like to stand out there under a different sun. On a world that's never known human visitors. I've watched the coverage on TV, the forest, the ocean, the twin moons, and it just looks like special effects. Pictures don't do it justice. And neither does talking about it. You have to
be
there. The same's true of the Maze. Long passageways, empty chambers. It's overwhelming.” The Maze was one of three worlds accessible from the Roundhouse. It was a place that seemed to consist entirely of rooms and tunnels. The other two were, of course, Eden and a space station located outside the galaxy.

“You never saw daylight there anywhere? At the Maze?”

“Well, we never really got outside. We weren't there very long. Just an hour or so. Not much more than that.”

“You didn't hear anything either, I suppose?”

“Nothing,” she said.

•   •   •

T
HE
FIRST
QUESTIONS
were gun-related. Did April own a weapon? How did she feel about efforts to establish tight gun controls? Did she worry about government helicopters coming to get them all? Brad was surprised by that one. His callers were usually rational.

Eventually, he moved the conversation to the Roundhouse by asking about the city on the Strike World. “You were one of the two people who actually saw it, April. That's correct, isn't it?”

“Yes,” she said.

“I understand it looked
different
.”

“We were there at night, Brad. I'd like to have seen it in the daylight. Assuming they have daylight there.”

“Is that possible? Could it be permanently night?”

“Oh, sure. It's
possible
, but I don't think it's very likely. But you have to keep in mind, we're in strange territory here.”

“You saw some of the occupants?”

“Yes. We were looking through a door and later a window, trying to keep out of sight. But we saw some of them. We should have taken some pictures, but I guess we got too excited. I know all I did was stand there and stare. It's a beautiful city, what we could see of it. On the edge of a river.”

“Are we going back?”

“That's not my call. I believe the chairman's talking it over with President Taylor, and, to be honest, I'd be surprised if we do.” She was shaking her head. And while she talked she wrote a note and showed it to him: TRY NOT TO SCARE ANYONE.

“I understand the architecture was different.”

“Yes. I don't know how to describe it, exactly. Lots of spires. The upper levels of a couple of the buildings were connected by crosswalks. Lots of soft lighting. And the buildings didn't look as if they were made from stone. Or concrete.”

“What
did
they look like?”

“Well, they looked as if they were made from
plastic
. The material was smooth. It even reflected light a little bit.”

Brad turned it back to his audience. The first caller wanted to know if the missions were armed?

“Yes,” said April. “We have weapons with us.”

Then a woman who identified herself as Molly Black: “April, did it scare you, seeing actual aliens?”

April glanced at Brad and smiled. How could Molly possibly think we wouldn't be a bit rattled? But she played the game: “Not really. We don't think anybody capable of developing the kind of technology we've seen is very likely to be hostile.”

The calls continued:

“What did the sky look like? Was there a moon?”

“You say you don't think there's any danger because these people make nice-looking architecture?
Really?
”

“Is there any possibility we'll say hello to these creatures? And invite some of them to visit North Dakota?”

And there was the almost daily call from Mark Collins. “How do you feel about this now, Dr. Cannon? Do you wish you'd gone outside and tried to talk to them?”

April had to think it over. “Yes,” she said. “I think if I had it to do over, I'd have done just that.”

The calls continued along the same line until finally they went to commercial. “Brad,” she said, “if I had a replay on that, I would have tried it. The only reason I didn't do it was because it would have been a violation of the protocol. And I know saying hello would have been a pretty dumb idea. But I wish—”

“Sure, April. What could have gone wrong?”

“I know. But it might have resolved everything. These idiots don't understand—”

“Careful, April. Sometimes the mike is live.”

“It's not, is it?”

Brad smiled. “No, you got lucky this time. But they aren't idiots. They want to know more about that place. I'm sure you understand that. They're milking it for all it's worth. What they want is for you to go along with them. They're going to go through the rest of their lives without ever getting as close to touching the sky as they are right now. So cut them some slack. They're standing there at that doorway with you, and they know they may never get a chance to find out who those people are. And that's what they want. And they're thinking the chance might have been blown when you and Boots went back to the Eden station. They're thinking they may never know any more about the aliens than they do right now. That the country's going to wrap itself in security issues, and the rest of the story will remain a mystery forever. They want you to give them something they can enjoy. Tell them something they haven't heard already.”

There were six callers on the line when they returned.

“Is there any way of getting a car over to Eden? Something you could ride around in? It would be nice if we could cover some serious ground and maybe see what else is there. You say we've only gotten out a few miles from the star gate. That's not very far. Maybe that city's on Eden somewhere.”

“Sure,” April said. “I don't think that possibility occurred to us, but it could be. Driving around, though, wouldn't work too well.”

A caller who sounded suspiciously like Matt Fanny but identified himself as Horace: “Dr. Cannon, all the excitement about this arises from the search for extraterrestrial life. That's what we're looking for, right? Everybody gets excited about it. So why do we back off when we find it? If we scare so easily, why did we ever start pushing the project?”

“You're correct, Horace. That's what really matters. There's a lot of romance involved in the hunt for extraterrestrials. But maybe we tend to forget that there's also a substantial risk involved if we actually find them.”

The caller with Matt's voice stayed on the line: “There are two other sites we can reach from the Roundhouse, right?”

“Yes,” she said. “One's apparently a space station. And the other just seems to be a group of interconnecting passageways and rooms. That's the Maze. We haven't spent much time at either place. The big news about the space station is that it's outside the Milky Way. Or at least, it's outside a galaxy somewhere. We're beginning to get a sense of the incredible capabilities of the transport system. There seems to be no limit about how far it can take you. And, in case it's your next question, we'll be going back soon. To both places.”

“Why so much caution? There must be a lot of people who want to go there.”

“There's a long line. But the station's a vacuum. We'll get to it. We just don't want to rush things. We already lost one guy there.”

Brad sighed and disconnected his boss. They took a few more questions, until one of the callers wanted to know whether Brad wouldn't enjoy traveling to Eden.

“Oh, I'd love to go.” He knew before he'd finished it was a dumb thing to say, but he couldn't pull back. “You're very fortunate, April,” he continued. “A scientist in exactly the right spot at the right time.”

She turned that glorious smile his way. “Well, Brad,” she said, “you had Dr. Fossel on last week?”

“Yes. He talked about life on other worlds, too.”

“He mentioned that he thought you'd make a good observer. And that you were interested in going along with us. We're going back to Eden in two weeks. If you like, we'd be happy to include you. We should be taking a journalist with us.”

“I know you're not serious, April. And I wouldn't want to be in the way. The truth is, I don't really have any scientific training.”

“We'd love to have you, Brad.”

Their eyes met. She looked surprised at his hesitation. Maybe disappointed. He saw no easy way out. “Sure,” he said. “If it's not a problem. You say you're leaving in two weeks?”

•   •   •

T
HE
STATION
WENT
to its top-of-the-hour news, and Brad sat at his desk, staring at April.

“Should I not have done that?” she asked.

“Maybe it would have been a good idea to clear it with me first.”

“I'm sorry. It just hit me while I was sitting there that I'd like to have you along. I—I'm sorry if I've created a problem.”

“Why would you want
me
? I'm not a biologist or anything.”

“I've known you a long time, Brad. I trust you.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that. But I don't see how I can be of any help. This stuff is way past my grade level. Anyhow, I'm not on the White House list.”

“We can sidestep that. There's always room for a journalist. But I'll back off if you prefer. Let it go. I'm sorry.”

“I can't very well do that now. I'd have to explain to my listeners why I'm not going. And no matter what I say, you know what they'll think.”

“I guess. I should have thought—”

“Just tell me why you want me out there. You're traveling with some of the top scientists in the world. And you've got the Sioux security people. What would you expect me to do?”

“Brad, I don't really know any of those people. They live in their own worlds. I've felt alone on these missions. The Sioux think they're there just to make sure we don't get killed. The science guys are caught up in their specialties. I'd like to have somebody along I can talk to. Bounce questions off. And you're already in the public eye. I thought it would give you a professional boost.”

Brad got slowly to his feet. “It'll do that,” he said.

•   •   •

M
ATT
CAME
INTO
his office. “You cut me off.”

“What do you mean?”