Читать книгу New Earth: Project O.N.E. - R.D. Ph.D. Pittman - Страница 8

The President sat down at his desk waiting for all the invited to take their places. Arlen Hendry was first to arrive and took a seat on the couch. Next, Arthur Cantwell, Secretary of State, was ushered into the room, greeted the President, and sat down across from Hendry in one of the wing backed chairs. Admiral Torrance came in with apologies five minutes late—traffic was stacked up around Washington that day.

“I brought all of you here today because we have finalized our redeployment and survival plans. In particular, what do we tell the rest of the world? And when? Now? When we’ve completed the redeployments and put into play our survival plans? I want to know your thoughts.”

“Mr. President,” Hendry said, “you know my position on this. If we were going to disclose, it should have been immediately. To disclose now, while our plans are in progress, could well sabotage those plans.”

“Arthur? Your position?”

“I have to disagree with Arlen. Every day that goes by means another day the other countries aren’t preparing. I don’t think I want that on my conscience.”

“Evan, I know your position, is there anything that you can add?”

“There is one other thing I think both Arlen and Arthur have missed. When this gets out there are going to be countries that take stock of their abilities to care for their populace. Many will come to the conclusion they simply don’t have the wherewithal to meet the demands like we can. For example, China can’t feed it’s people now, the United States, being the breadbasket of the world…will look awfully tempting. We had better get our house in order before we announce anything to anybody. It may be nationalistic, but I’m really not willing to sacrifice my own nation on the risky possibility of saving someone else’s.”

“Admiral, you really think the Chinese would invade the United States?” Secretary Cantwell asked.

“If you recall in the middle of the first decade, Mr. Secretary, the Chinese began securing oil imports from all over the world to support their exploding economy. It was their aggressive activity in that area that started the dramatic rise in oil prices. They would stop at nothing to get that oil. And they will stop at nothing to secure food for over a billion and a half people. Don’t forget not only China would be looking at us with envious eyes, but India has over a billion souls to feed as well. Both have huge, well trained armies, and both are nuclear powers. No, I adamantly oppose early disclosure. Get the redeployment done and let General Hanken implement his survival plan.”

“All of you have valid arguments for and against,” the President said. “At this point I think it best we maintain our stance on nondisclosure. When we feel we have repositioned ourselves from a military standpoint and can provide for the security of the nation, then I’ll feel more comfortable revisiting this issue. And as for my conscience, Arthur, well…I was elected to make hard decisions. This one’s just bigger than most.” The President stood. “Thank you, all, for your input.”

Alex eased the jet in for a smooth landing at the Executive Airport and taxied to hangar nine as instructed by the tower. Mitch Reilly, airport manager, was standing, waiting with his hands shading his eyes as the turbines whined to a stop just short of the hangar opening. Alex and Curt went through the shutdown checklist and met him at the exit doorway of the jet.

Alex shook hands with the man, trying not to rush him. He was feeling the clock ticking right down to his bones. “I understand you have something for me?”

Reilly nodded to the hangar behind him. “This is your private hangar, paid ahead for three months. General, I received this package last week from none other than Howard Carney, the Deputy Secretary of Defense. Am I right that he’s just one step away from being the top dog right?”

“That’s correct.”

“Wow. Well, Howard put a note on here it says, this is an open contract for services, you bill it, General Hanken signs it, and we will wire the funds in ten days to an account you specify, no questions asked. In all my years as an airport manager I have never seen such a contract. You must be doing something real special for DOD.”

Alex winced. He was going to have to let Howard know he needed to have a flunky make arrangements if he wanted to remain inconspicuous.

“Mitch, “he said, “listen, there are some things I’ll need. I’ll try to give you a 48 hour notice when I plan to fly, but there will be times when an issue comes up suddenly. I can see needing a one hour turnaround. So I want a Level 2 ground maintenance preflight check performed each time I land, struts, rudders, brakes, fuel pump and oil pumps, hydraulic lines, avionics integrity and an environment system check.”

“Wow again. I’d have to put two mechanics on the plane.”

“Bill it, and I will sign it.”

Mitch ran his eyes over the plane with a look that Alex usually reserved for women.

“This is a real beauty a new C-21 Lear, now I realize it’s not the A-10 you’re used to, General, but you didn’t have leather seats, a refer, and a coffee maker in you’re A-10.”

“True. Besides, people had a tendency to shoot at me in the A-10. In my old age I’ve decided to take it a little easier.”

“And you deserve it. By the way do you want to keep your King Air in its old hangar?”

“Yeah, that’ll do for now. See you later Mitch.”

Alex and Curt took separate taxis to their homes. Curt needed to get hold of Cynthia as soon as possible. Alex immediately called Dr. Chenowith to set up a meeting. She was on another call so he left a message for her to call him. Next he called Pete Cernak at the BLM in Coeur d’ Alene and set up an appointment.

He was packing some fresh clothes when a small black telephone next to his bed—his new secure phone—rang. Alex Han—“

“Why the hell didn’t you call sooner? Don’t you know the world’s coming to an end?”

“Dr. Chenowith, I presume?”

“That question wasn’t a joke. I’ve been waiting for your call for three days now.”

“I’m sorry, but I only heard about you yesterday, and I’ve been a little busy since then. You’re not at the top of my punch list.” He said it before he recognized the pun, then decided he didn’t mind the pun a bit.

“So General Hanken— it is General isn’t it?”

“Yes Dr. Chenowith— it is Dr. isn’t it?”

“General, I fear we have gotten off to a bad start.”

“You think? I would have hung up a long time ago, but we have a job to do, and I’m willing to put up with a lot to get it done.”

“Ah, now that’s the stuff of a military hero. That Silver Star and all those other medals they must be a heavy burden to bear.”

“No more so than this conversation Dr. Chenowith.”

There was a long pause. “I like you. You dance well.”

“Terrific. When can we meet?”

“Pick me up at my office in Building Six room 122. I’ll take us to a quaint place that is secluded and private, where we can talk without fear of being overheard.”

“Perfect. See you tomorrow Dr. Chenowith.”

Alex hung up the phone and sank into his easy chair. With the world ending he didn’t need a caustic, intellectual prima donna. What next? Would they ask him to establish a run away teen safe house?

Well he had other things to worry about. Like how to keep the neighbors from suspecting something was up…he didn’t want the Wilsons to spend the next few years in involuntary detention. Also his investment portfolio would need to be liquidated, leaving enough cash in the bank to pay bills and living expenses. The rest should go into gold, platinum, silver and diamonds. But, then again maybe that would all be for nothing. If people were struggling for food, they weren’t going to care about Kruggerrands. He would call Howard for any suggestions, or if there were any prohibitions against accumulating precious metals since he had inside information about a future event.

After reading the detailed instructions left by the technicians, he picked up the secure phone—and how did they install it without the neighbors noticing? They put a high gain microburst dish on his roof for God’s sake! He began to realize that standard operating procedures were no longer in effect. He speed dialed Howard.

“Howard.”

“Hey Alex, I see you are on your secure line, those guys work fast.”

“Yeah, listen, this may sound crass but I was wondering…. I have a substantial portfolio.”

“We know.”

“Of course. But given what is on the horizon I was considering moving into precious metals, I mean taking physical delivery. Would that present a problem?”

“Alex you have a fabulous mind, and the answer is no, there are no prohibitions for someone in your position. In fact I’m going to give you the number of a man at the US Mint to call. He’ll give you some surprising information.”

“Thanks Howard. Bye.”

Alex dialed the number and spoke with the gentleman at the US Mint. What he found out left him gasping for air. It seems that just yesterday the man had received notification from the Justice Department that Alex was a Level One designee. Which apparently meant that the US Mint would be shipping gold and silver coins, along with platinum ingots to him as soon as he had secured suitable storage space.

“Um…how much are we talking about?” he asked.

“Somewhere in the range of six and ten billion in precious metals, and fifty billion in cash of various denominations.”

Okay. Howard had said that price was no object. Alex was beginning to see what that meant.

The man gave him instructions on what type of secured storage he’d need, which the US Treasury would pay for. The man went on to say that their expectation was that all of the Level One designees would have their facilities in place within nine months. Alex thanked him for his time and clicked off the phone.

My God. Things were moving far too fast. He needed to get up to speed, and stop being so damned overwhelmed.

Then he began to think about what this new information actually meant. He was one of a number of Level One designees, all of whom were being given a chunk of the national mint. The United States was literally being broken up into pieces and spread all over the country. It was like an insurance company not concentrating its business in one area; the US government was spreading the risk. Alex got up out of his chair just about the time his residence phone rang.

“Hello.”

“Is this General Alex Hanken?”

“Yes.”

“General, this is Jeffrey Macklin from Cal Tech, I need to talk to you privately as soon as possible,”——Macklin gasped for air——“Both of our lives may be in danger.”

“Professor Macklin calm yourself. Can I call you right back on a secure line?”

“No, it’s got to be in person. I’m on my way there now.”

“Hang on. I have appointments all day long and I fly out of town tomorrow for three days. I’ll be back Monday and can see you then.”

“Very well, I’ll see you then.” The line went dead.

Well, that was unexpected.

Alex immediately called Howard back.

“Howard I’ve got a small problem here, one of those professors, a Jeffrey Macklin, just called me saying that both our lives were in danger. He wanted to see me right away and I put him off until next Monday.”

“Here’s what you do. Call Ted Jeffers at this secure number. He’ll handle this for you.”

“Thanks Howard.” The name Ted Jeffers rang a bell but he couldn’t remember exactly from where. He’d been through so much in the last few days. He dialed the number and the familiar screeching noise of a scrambled call could be heard.

“Jeffers.”

“Mr. Jeffers, this is General Alex Hanken, Howard Carney said you would handle something that just popped up.”

“General, what can I do for you?”

“About twenty minutes ago a Professor Jeffrey Macklin of Cal Tech called me to say our lives were in danger and he needed to see me right away.”

“Oh Christ, Macklin’s finally flipped, his boss Eldon Huart died of a heart attack and he’s conspiracy happy. General forget about it. I will take care of this, and you do your job. And if anything like this happens again—call me immediately.”

“Thanks. And forgive me but I know your name, I just can’t place you?”

“I’m the Director of the FBI and from now on it’s Ted.”

“Okay Ted, good to talk to you.”

Alex hung up, feeling even more disoriented. He was on a first name basis with the director of the FBI? This was just…the further into it he went, the more bizarre it got. And just where was he in the chain of command?

No that was ridiculous. He was a retired serviceman with a gift for logistics, that’s all. He was being treated with deference because he was doing an important job. That didn’t make him an important person. He shook his head. Having the US Mint hand you several billion dollars can go right to your head.

Alex got a call from Curt asking if he and Cynthia could come over that evening so he could explain to her what was going on. Cynthia didn’t know anything beyond the redeployment plan story. It was up to Alex to break the more ominous news to her. Alex went to the grocery store and dropped some cleaning off and waited for Curt and Cynthia to arrive for the evening.

Alex went outside on the patio and looked up at the stars. Where were they? Where would they be coming from? And when they were gone, what would be left?

Curt found his father out on the patio, staring at the stars. “Dad Cynthia’s in the kitchen waiting.”

“What? Oh, sure.”

His dad seemed perfectly calm, but Curt knew better. His dad had never been one to just stare at the night sky. The fear was there, underneath the surface calm, held in check by millions of details that needed to be taken care of.

Curt knew this because he felt the same way. Whenever he stopped planning and really thought about what was coming, he started to tremble. He was doing it now. He held his hand to his chin to quell the nervousness swelling up in his stomach.

Then his father put a hand on his shoulder. How’s Cynthia sound?”

Curt was grateful for the change in focus. “She kind of balked because she said she had to work tomorrow, so she couldn’t stay late. I told her she may never be late again in her life, after tonight.” They both managed a forced grin.

Cynthia greeted his father with a big hug and the three of them got comfortable in the den. His father then told her the whole story once again, with Curt sitting next to her, holding her close. Cynthia began to tear up. She tried to wipe them away during Alex’s explanation, but they kept coming. Finally she just leaned on Curt and would occasionally squeeze him for reassurance.

His father then surprised him, telling Cynthia that her background included her parents, and that the powers to be were a little nervous about that.

“I know, Dad,” she said. “I’m not going to let them get in the way of whatever it is they want me to do.”

Alex nodded. “Good girl. I’ll let them know.”

“If this world was coming to an end. I want to spend the rest of my days with Curt. Can we afford for me to quit my job?”

His father looked a bit odd at this. “Ah, yes.”

“So now we can plan our wedding Curt.”

“The sooner the better,” His father walked over to Cynthia and gave her a big hug. “And it will be a big, fancy, outrageously, expensive wedding.”

She giggled and put her arms around Alex’s neck and told him.

“Oh Dad, I love you.”

Cynthia wept the entire trip to their condo. Curt tried to console her but she couldn’t stop. How could she stop? She was way too young to be facing her mortality?

“Cynthia, baby doll,” Curt said softly, “it’ll be okay, we’ll get through this.”

“Oh Curt, everything we’ve done, all that we were planning…it’s for nothing. I’ve tried to be a good person, better than my parents. We’ll be no better off than they are. It’s just…so unfair.” Her sobbing turned to small whimpers as Curt held her in his arms.

The next morning, Curt and Cynthia showed up at Alex’s back door fifteen minutes early, looking both subdued and resolute.

“Is there something wrong?” Alex ushered them into the kitchen. “Have you been having second thoughts?”

“No, we had a tough night, thinking about what may have been. It’s just a shock, not being in control of our own future anymore.”

Alex had already spent a lot of time on this. He sat down across from them.

“Listen to me, both of you; no one has ever been in control of their own future.

But we can always make decisions in the face of…circumstances—where we go, how we go, what we do and don’t accomplish. Our ending story belongs to us, even if we can’t always write the context.”

Cynthia seemed calm. Remarkably so. “But the context here is the end of the world.”

“All right,” Alex said. “I’ll grant you that extreme. But what we do about it is still in our hands. We can sit around and wait for what is handed to us or we can meet the challenge and do what we can. I for one refuse to go quietly. I have the two of you to think about and your futures. I will give my life doing everything I can to ensure that you have one.”

“Dad, I love you so much,” Cynthia said, “and you’re right we’re being childish.”

“Did I say that? You’re scared about what may come. You have regrets about things undone or maybe unsaid. There’s nothing childish about any of that. I am on the same emotional roller coaster. But you can’t let it seize your survival instinct. Don’t let it take that spirit of accepting a challenge from you. If we’re going to die, then let it happen while we’re giving it our best shot.”

“Dad we’re with you,” Curt said.

“Good. Now a couple of practical things. Howard’s arranged to pay you two each $150,000 a year. You will start getting auto deposits next week in your checking accounts.”

“That’s about ten grand more than I’m making now,” Curt said.

“That’s a whole lot more than I make in a year,” Cynthia mentioned.

“Especially if you forget about taxes and your 401Ks. I’ve got a luncheon with this Dr.Chenowith today, then tomorrow we all fly to Coeur d’ Alene and start earning our pay.”

The drive out to Davis from his home was a reminder of how much agriculture there was in California—field after field of crops. What would it look like in three years?

When he located Dr. Chenowith’s office and knocked on the door, a young woman opened it. Must be a graduate student.

“I’m General Hanken; I’m here to see Dr. Chenowith.”

“Sandra, there is an absolutely gorgeous man out here to see you,” she said.

“Terri, behave yourself.”

And then Dr. Chenowith walked out of her office. She was nothing like what he expected “Pleased to meet you, General,” she said. “Ready for lunch?”

“Oh Sandra, are you taking him to Edna’s, I want to go please?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dr. Chenowith said. “You’re a grad assistant. You’re supposed to starve.”

As Alex drove to the restaurant, she pointed out various sites around the Davis area. Edna’s was a small place—a private home that had been converted, from the look of it. But a vine covered patio with tables gave it some charm. It was a little chilly outside so she asked for a table in the corner overlooking the patio. The waitress took their drink orders and left the menus for them to look over.

“General Hanken, this place serves classic American cuisine—, pot roast, meat loaf, fried chicken, and it is all excellent.”

Ah, the stereotypes. “I’ll take your word for it. I’m more a Cordon Bleu man.”

“Really? Give me a good steak any day. I hope Terri didn’t embarrass you.”

“Not at all. Though, I can’t recall ever being called gorgeous.”

“Well to be honest, you are very handsome man, not at all what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“Short—, most pilots are short. Balding,— most Generals I know are balding. Okay, now it’s your turn.”

“I must admit, you’re not what I expected either.”

“And?”

“Well I was expecting a doughty, flower-dressed, gray streaked hair, hunched back earth mother.”

“Hunched back?”

“From carrying the weight of the world.”

“Oh my gosh, you are a real prize.”

“And what do you see?”

Despite himself, he was actually starting to enjoy this. There was more wit here than he expected, and plenty of spirit. “I see a very attractive woman in front of me.”

“Well, Gen—.”

“Can we drop the General? Please call me Alex.”

She nodded. “I’m Sandra.”

“Perfect.”

The waitress came with their drinks and took their order. He ordered pot roast, and she ordered the same. He couldn’t stop looking at her eyes, they were light smoky blue and she had astonishing strawberry— blond hair. Her skin was lightly tanned but clear, he guessed her age to be in the mid-forties, but she was in what appeared to be terrific physical condition.

“So what should we talk about?” she said.

“Sandra just how much have you been told.”

“Well I’m a designated person, so I know everything you know, I wish I didn’t.”

“Yeah, same here.” At least he didn’t have to reinvent the wheel.

“Sandra I’m flying up to Coeur d’Alene tomorrow to start looking for potential survival facilities. I know this may be short notice, but I’d like you to come along and assess the area as an agriculture center post event. I plan on being up there for two or three days.”

“Well, I don’t have anything more important on my schedule. I just put in my sabbatical notice, and today was my last day at UC Davis.”

“Fantastic.”

“When I get back to the office I’ll pull the Ag stats on that county and the surrounding counties, I’ve never been there before, it should be interesting.”

“Excuse me for being forward, but is there someone that you have to account for?”

“Husband or a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude. It’s just that I’ve had to deal with my son and his fiancée and trying to figure out how I was going to skirt around all these issues without alerting them. I didn’t manage it.”

“No offense taken. And to answer your question, no, I just jettisoned a suitor. A male suitor.”

“To a pilot the word jettisoned, can be both good and bad.”

“I am going to enjoy working with you. So are we driving up or what?”

“No we’re taking the plane they gave me.”

“What is it, I’m a pilot myself?”

“It’s a C-21— military version of an eight seat Lear. Brand new.” She was a pilot? No wonder it costs so much to attend a university, all the professors are out playing around in their private planes.

But her eyes.

“Hey first class I’m going to like this I can tell.”

“The plane is for our exclusive use, and the government picks up all the tabs no questions asked. But we’re not flying down to Rio in it.”

She sobered. “Wouldn’t dream of it. We’re going to be busy.”

They finished lunch and Alex took her back to her office. He told her he would confirm hotel reservations for the entire party and to plan on wheels up at nine in the morning. She gave him her home and cell phone numbers and asked if she could leave her car at his house while they were away.

The drive home was an exercise in self-discipline; he kept drifting back to her eyes. They were so mesmerizing…

He couldn’t even think about going there. He had to stay focused…And besides, he hadn’t been available for Ellen. He was going to be a lot less available now.

Tomorrow they started the arduous task of finding suitable locations for an as yet to be determined number of people who were going to be needed to save the world.