jdavid.footprintsofthunder-第72章

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　Washington；　D。C。
　POSTQUILT：　TUESDAY；　11：15　A。M。　　EST
　
　　Speaking　to　the　Security　Council　had　terrified　Terry。　He　considered　himself　a　good　counselor　on　a　one…to…one　basis；　and　good　with　small　groups　of　parents　or　teachers；　but　he　was　never　fortable　as　a　public　speaker。　And　nothing　in　his　experience　had　prepared　him　to　speak　to　the　movers　and　the　shakers　of　government。　Now　he　realized　he'd　made　the　last　meaningful　contribution　he　could　make　in　Washington；　It　was　time　to　call　in　Bill's　promise　and　get　to　his　son。
　As　they　left　the　White　House　in　the　vanv　Terry　turned　to　Bill　and　said　simply；　〃It's　time。〃　Bill　turned　his　face　to　the　window　and　watched　the　buildings　race　by；　then　leaned　forward　to　whisper　in　the　driver's　ear。
　Terry　sank　back　into　his　seat　and　reexamined　his　decisions。　He　had　been　only　minimally　helpful　with　Kenny　Randall。　Of　course　he　couldn't　have　known　that　when　he　decided　to　e；　but　in　retrospect；　Ellen　had　been　right。
　
　Nick　was　exchanging　information　on　the　PresNet　when　Elizabeth　Hawthorne　appeared　at　his　door。　It　wasn't　like　Elizabeth　to　show　up　without　an　appointment。　She　was　carrying　a　bright　blue　file　folder　filled　to　overflowing　and　leaned　against　the　doorway　trying　to　act　casual。　Unfortunately；　〃casual〃　was　not　in　her　vocabulary　of　body　language。　However；　she　spoke　with　characteristic　bluntness。
　〃They're　going　to　blame　the　Russians　for　this。〃
　〃Excuse　me？〃
　〃You　said　that　it　takes　bombs　of　a　certain　megatonnage　to　produce　the　effect。　They're　putting　together　a　press　release　claiming　only　the　old　Soviet　Union　detonated　enough　of　these　bombs　often　enough　to　produce　the　effect。〃
　Nick　didn't　know　how　to　respond。　Politicians　specialized　in　covering　their　asses；　so　why　should　this　case　be　any　different；　and　why　would　Elizabeth　bring　this　piece　of　news　to　him？　Did　Elizabeth　care　who　got　blamed　for　the　disaster？　Did　she　think　Nick　could　do　something　about　it？
　〃It's　not　true；　Elizabeth。　Either　everyone　involved　in　nuclear　testing　is　to　blame；　or　no　one　is。〃
　Elizabeth　nodded　and　finally　entered　the　room；　walking　closer　to　Nick　and　watching　the　messages　scrolling　across　his　puter　screen。
　After　another　full　minute　she　stopped　reading　the　messages　and　turned　to　leave。
　〃Oh；　is　that　psychologist　still　around？〃
　〃Dr。　Roberts？　No；　he　left　with　Colonel　Conrad　after　the　meeting。〃
　Elizabeth's　face　showed　just　a　hint　of　disappointment。　Then　she　took　the　blue　folder　out　from　under　her　arm　and　handed　it　to　Nick。
　〃These　are　the　satellite　photos　you　wanted。〃
　As　she　walked　out　the　door　Nick　began　to　understand　what　had　happened。　The　satellite　photos　normally　would　have　been　delivered　by　a　staff　member。　Elizabeth；　Nick　realized；　had　actually　e　to　ask　about　Dr。　Roberts。　Why　would　Elizabeth　Hawthorne　want　a　psychologist？　It　seemed　so　unlikely。　Elizabeth　Hawthorne's　life　had　focused　on　getting　and　exercising　power。　She　thrived　on　crisis　management。　But　if　Elizabeth　did　not　want　to　see　the　psychologist　for　herself；　then　who？　The　President？　Nick　thought　back　to　the　Security　Council　meeting。　He　had　noted　a　change　in　the　President。　He　still　functioned；　he　ran　the　meeting；　with　Elizabeth's　whispered　help；　but　he　seemed　uncharacteristically　single…minded。　He　wanted　to　know　what　had　happened　and　what　could　be　done　about　it。　Still；　wouldn't　any　President　respond　the　same　way？
　Nick　pushed　his　concerns　about　the　President　to　the　back　of　his　mind　and　opened　the　folder。　The　top　photo　was　from　Landsat　of　the　North　American　continent；　zoomed　in　on　the　United　States。　The　continent　looked　like　a　quilt。　Contrasting　topological　colors　were　sprinkled　from　the　East　Coast　to　the　West　Coast；　and　the　sprinkling　continued　into　the　sections　of　both　Canada　and　Mexico　that　were　visible　on　the　photo。　Other　photos　showed　similar　effects　in　both　eastern　and　western　Europe。　There　were　no　photos　of　the　Southern　Hemisphere；　but　Nick　had　no　doubt　the　effect　was　worldwide。
　Deeper　into　the　pile　of　photos　and　analysis　reports；　he　found　a　photo　taken　off　the　Florida　coast。　An　attached　report　noted　that　a　tidal　wave　had　washed　over　part　of　Florida's　gulf　coast。　The　photo　of　the　ocean　showed　massive　amounts　of　debris　in　the　water。　The　water　itself　looked　more　like　mud；　and　there　were　whole　evergreen　trees　mixed　in　the　muck；　their　roots　and　crowns　jumbled　together。　Wherever　this　land　had　been　displaced　from；　it　had　the　bad　luck　of　being　displaced　into　the　ocean。　Whatever　animal　or　human　life　it　had　held　was　lost　now。
　There　were　three　sealed　envelopes　at　the　bottom　of　the　pile　marked　SECRET　and　stamped　with　a　red　top…secret　seal。　One　envelope　was　labeled　New　York　City；　the　second　Atlanta；　and　the　third　Montreal。　Each　envelope　carried　a　label　with　the　obligatory　warning　against　unauthorized　access　to　the　information　inside　and　the　requisite　listing　of　penalties。　The　first　envelope　included　an　aerial　photo　of　New　York　City…a　picture　worth　a　thousand　words；　snowing　what　Nick　had　only　read　about。　At　first　glance　it　looked　normal；　but　scribed　across　one　edge　of　the　city　was　a　neat　line。　On　one　side　was　a　dense　urban　setting；　on　the　other　side；　nothing。　Nick　had　heard　the　devastation　described　as　〃prairie〃　in　some　reports；　but　from　an　aerial　photo　it　looked　like　a　void。　A　second　photo　showed　more　of　the　city　and　the　surrounding　urban　area。　The　shape　of　the　void　approximated　an　oval。　Pulling　the　Landsat　photo　out　of　the　stack　again；　Nick　held　it　close　to　his　eyes。　Most　of　the　quilt　pieces　seemed　to　be　oval。
　The　third　photo　confused　him。　It　was　the　same　photo　of　New　York；　but　in　this　photo　the　section　of　missing　city　was　there。　He　looked　closely　at　it；　noticing　that　part　of　the　photo…where　the　quilt　section　had　been…was　fuzzy。　There　were　time　notations　in　the　bottom　corner　of　the　photos；　indicating　that　the　third　was　taken　after　the　photo　with　the　void。　Nick　examined　the　photos　again。　The　third　photo　showed　the　city　in　the　center　of　the　quilt　section　that　became　fuzzy　toward　the　edges。　Was　the　city　ing　back？　Nick　turned　to　the　acpanying　report　and　began　to　read。　When　he　finished　he　immediately　began　posing　a　message　for　the　PresNet；　the　top　secret　classification　quickly　forgotten。　While　he　typed；　a　message　appeared　at　the　bottom　of　the　screen。　As　it　scrolled　up　Nick　realized　it　was　essentially　the　message　he　was　about　to　send。　It　was　from　Dr。　Gogh。
　
　44。　　OCEAN　RIDE
　
　People　of　all　ages　will　bee　prisoners　of　the　unseen。　Good　times　will　bee　times　of　misfortune；　bitterness　will　replace　sweetness：　The　wealth　of　nations　will　float　in　the　wind；
　…Zorastrus；　Prophet　of　Babylon
　
　Off　Naples；　Florida
　POSTQUILT：　TUESDAY；　　12：00　NOON　EST
　
　　Ron　woke　at　midday　to　find　everyone　else　asleep　on　the　back　of　the　beast。　He　was　thirsty；　but　the　water　had　to　be　rationed。　Even　with　a　deep　tan；　the　sun　burned　his　back。　He　tried　rolling　over；　but　the　sun　was　too　bright。　Sleep　eluded　him；　and　he　found　himself　studying　the　baby。
　It　was　a　magnificent　animal。　It　had　a　long　neck　like　an　elephant's　trunk。　A　triangular　head　was　covered　with　slick　gray…green　skin；　and　it　had　large　black　eyes；　with　eyelids　that　blinked　occasionally；　clearing　away　the　salt　spray。
　Ron　was　staring　into　the　water　looking　for　the　legs　when　he　realized　the　baby　was　moving　toward　him。　It　swam　closer　and　fell　a　little　behind　the　mother　and　then　swung　its　head　to　look　at　Ron　square　on。　His　heart　started　to　pound；　but　not　from　fear；　from　excitement。　There　was　curiosity　in　those　huge　round　eyes；　maybe　even　intelligence。　Ron　slowly　raised　his　head　and　smiled　at　the　face；　almost　ready　to　talk　to　the　baby；　when　the　mother　turned　her　head　in　a　slow　pendulous　motion　and　made　a　bleating　sound。　The　baby　immediately　returned　to　its　position　in　the　mother's　peripheral　vision。　Ron　felt　sad　when　it　left。
　They　passed　out　water　in　the　early　afternoon；　each　taking　a　little。　It　couldn't　be　more　than　eighty　degrees；　yet　with　so　little　to　drink　it　seemed　like　a　hundred。　Ron　hoped　his　estimate　of　distance　was　correct　because　if　it　took　more　than　a　couple　of　days；　they　would　be　dead　of　thirst。
　As　Ron　took　his　turn　at　drinking　he　noticed　the　baby　had　dropped　back　again　and　was　watching　him。　The　baby's　face　was　nothing　but　taught　gray…green　skin；　but　Ron　imagined　h