Footprints of Thunder (18 page)

19. Security Council

If there is a common denominator among these strange falls from the sky, it is the disruption of electric power. Such failures have not been explained by engineers.

—
Constance Jones,
Fortiology and the Modern Age

Washington, D.C. PostQuilt: Sunday, 7:50
A.M.
EST

T
he Security Council met in the basement of the White House in the Situation Room, brightly lit with banks of fluorescent bulbs built into the ceiling. Nick had seen operating rooms with less light. A table held doughnuts, coffee, and orange juice. The orange juice was untouched, but the coffee pots had already been refilled once. Nick helped himself to a cup.

Elizabeth’s chair was next to the President’s but pushed back so that she had to lean forward to whisper in his ear, which she did frequently. Nick did not have a regular seat, but Elizabeth motioned him to a chair near the far end of the rectangular table.

The meeting was about to begin when Dr. Gogh arrived. Under his arm he held a folder identical to the one Nick had received from Elizabeth. Expressions of surprise spread around the table, but Dr. Gogh sat down and immediately began poring over his notes. Nick noticed that Gogh’s seat was closer to the President’s than Nick’s.

Because the situation was treated as a military emergency, the CIA, NSA, and defense intelligence reports were at the top of the agenda. Nick’s report would be last. After making sure the armed forces were on full alert and that all SAC bombers were either in the air or on the flight line, the President began taking more detailed reports. The various intelligence reports all focused on the state of readiness of the U.S. armed forces and threat assessment. The immediate concern was the loss of the ELF system—the network of buried transmission lines that made up the extreme low frequency transmission system, designed to keep the nation’s fleet of nuclear submarines in contact with the military authorities. The loss of the system would mean dependence on less reliable and more vulnerable systems requiring the submarines to approach the surface to communicate via satellites. One of the naval aides estimated 30 percent of the ELF system was in terrain that was farmland and forest one minute, and arctic tundra the next. Like the others present, the President ignored the incredible changes in the terrain and focused on the relatively inconsequential loss of the communications system.

From all over the country had come reports of huge tracts of land disappearing and being replaced by other terrain, often radically different in climate. Nick new that part of New York had vanished, apparently replaced by grasslands, but other reports confirmed a huge sheet of ice had appeared in Iowa, a tropical jungle in Georgia, and a desert in Ohio. Massive floods were occurring in East St. Louis and other locales. The flooding gave Nick an idea, and he nursed it, temporarily oblivious to the meeting around him.

“No, Mr. President, we have no estimate of the extent of the loss although we have some reports that part of the system we thought was lost may still be intact but dysfunctional. Although the topography has changed, the ELF lines may remain under the surface. We are organizing teams to check on that now.”

After Elizabeth leaned forward and whispered in the President’s ear again, he asked, “Colonel, do you have an estimate of when the results of that assessment will be available? When you do, would you see that my chief of staff has that? Thank you.”

President McIntyre had been twirling a twisted paper clip in his fingers but put it down to run his finger down the agenda. Before he could find his place Elizabeth leaned forward and pointed. The President seemed unconcerned about Elizabeth’s blatant intrusion.

The head of the CIA gave the next report. Samuel Cannon was another of the President’s old friends. He’d had a rough ride through the confirmation hearings. The Congress was leery of making a former auto executive head of the CIA, but the President had his man in the CIA, qualified or not.

“As I understand your reports, Sam, the events are random and not targeted at military installations. Both civilian and military targets have been hit?”

“That’s right, sir,” the CIA director confirmed. “Whatever the weapon is, it missed our strategic capabilities. Although we have lost communication with some facilities.”

Lost communication or lost facilities? Nick wondered.

“Could the strategy be to take out civilian targets?” the President asked.

“If the targets were civilian then the weapon was just as inaccurate. We have unconfirmed reports of even nearly uninhabited areas being affected. Whatever it was, was powerful but not accurate.”

Cannon said it with satisfaction, as if a weapon that could make a third of New York City disappear, never mind three million people, was no threat if it could not be aimed accurately.

Elizabeth leaned forward again and whispered in the President’s ear.

“I know you don’t believe the Russians are technologically capable of such an attack,” McIntyre said, “but it seems even less likely that any other country would have the technology to do this. Is it possible something has escaped our scrutiny? What about the project they have going at the old Chernobyl site in the Ukraine?”

The CIA director and Elizabeth flinched at the mention of Chernobyl. It was clear the President had committed a breach of security just by saying the name.

“Sir,” Cannon began cautiously, “I don’t think this is the place to discuss the … ah … other matter.”

“I’m not asking you to discuss it, I’m asking you to assess the possibility that it has something to do with what has happened to our country.”

The CIA director looked at his assistant behind him, who leaned forward and whispered a la Elizabeth Hawthorne. While they whispered Nick noticed that Gogh was still engrossed in the reports.

“Our best information suggests there is no connection between this latest event and the other matter.”

“Is it possible that one of our own projects could have inadvertently produced this effect? Possibly the fusion project, or maybe that muon particle projector … or what about the antimatter space drive? I always had doubts about that project,” McIntyre said dryly.

“Mr. President! If you wish to discuss these projects we should dismiss all those with inadequate security clearance.”

Nick found this discussion particularly interesting. Whatever these black bag projects were, spilling the beans had the CIA director white-faced with rage.

“Calm down, Sam, I’m more concerned with finding out about what has happened than I am about leaking information on pie-in-the-sky secret weapons. I only want to know whether these projects could in some way have produced the … the … whatever it is that happened today.”

The President was visibly angry at the CIA director’s resistance to his questions. Elizabeth whispered in the chief executive’s ear again.

“Sam, we have dozens of highly classified projects going on right this minute. I mentioned only three. I am ordering that all of these projects be shut down immediately. You understand me? No testing, no operation, no experimentation. Until we know what has happened we’re not going to risk having it happen again.”

“But Mr. President—”

“No buts, Sam, shut everything down.”

Samuel Cannon opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again. It was clear he was not through arguing, but he knew better then to pursue it in this setting. Then the President stunned the CIA director again.

“Have you considered any other sources for this effect?”

“Yes, sir, but the most technologically sophisticated countries are all friendly. We’re less certain about the Russian Federation. We know the Baltic Union wouldn’t have the sophistication, but the Federation retained most of the U-S.S.R.‘s technological capabilities.”

“I’m not talking about other countries. I’m talking about other species.”

“Animals … like whales or something?”

“Sam, I’m talking about the possibility that this is the result of an act by an alien intelligence. Have you considered this? Why not?”

Gogh had stopped reading and was listening intently to the exchange between the President and the CIA director. From his face Nick couldn’t tell where Gogh stood on the idea.

“Sir, there is no evidence to support such a theory.” The CIA director looked embarrassed for the President.

“There is no evidence to reject such a theory either, isn’t that right?”

Sam was nonplussed and began whispering back and forth with his aide.

“We will explore this possibility, sir, perhaps through the SETI people, or Bluebook.”

Nick’s eyes again went wide. He hadn’t heard project Blue-book mentioned for more than a decade. Was it possible that the air force was still exploring UFO sightings? Nick began wishing he always had access to Security Council meetings, they were so full of juicy bits of information.

“Please do, Sam. I know this sounds crazy but I’m serious. I’ve always believed that somewhere in the universe there has to be another form of intelligent life. This may be the prelude to an invasion, or it could be some kind of friendly gesture. I know what you’re thinking, Sam, but check it out anyway. All right, let’s continue,” the President said, running his finger back down the agenda. This time he found his place without Elizabeth’s help.

The next report focused on the civilian situation and contained more reports of terrain changes. The biggest confirmed loss was part of New York City, but there were other losses in Florida, Texas, Maryland, and South Carolina. Most of these were known because of military base losses in the same area. Nick mentally added what he heard on the radio to the list. Civilian losses hadn’t been estimated, but Nick guessed they were already in the tens of millions.

The last part of the civilian assessment dealt with communication problems. The country still had a communication network but now it resembled a piece of swiss cheese. Radio and television facilities had disappeared in some regions, while still others had been affected by an electromagnetic pulse. The EMP was weaker than that which accompanies a nuclear blast but was strong enough to damage some remaining facilities. Other holes in the communication network were caused by loss of satellites. What the country was left with was a shattered network where some cities still had local TV, radio, and phone service, while others had long-distance service, but no local.

Nick tried to picture morning in America. Some would be getting up to find their favorite network morning program absent from the airwaves but local news filling in. Others would be waking in the dark, using a portable radio trying to find someone still broadcasting. Everywhere people would be jamming the remaining phone systems to reach loved ones or to request emergency services—services that would be slow in coming.

The report ended with a promise to keep Elizabeth updated. This time when Elizabeth pointed to the President’s agenda he looked up at Nick.

“Dr. Paulson, you seem to be next. Would you please give us your report.” The President glanced at Gogh briefly before he turned to Nick, who felt like a second-string quarterback thrown into the big game.

“Thank you, Mr. President. First, this is not an attack on the United States.” Then he added, as an afterthought, “Not an attack from another country anyway, I will have to consider the possibility of an extraterrestrial source.” The President looked pleased that Nick had not thought of his theory, but the corners of Gogh’s mouth turned up slightly.

“Nick,” the President asked, “how do you know this isn’t an attack?”

“This phenomenon has crossed borders,” Nick said simply, “and I have seen reports that it may be a worldwide phenomenon. It seems illogical that someone with hostile intent would release a weapon that seems to act indiscriminately.”

The President turned and gave the CIA director an icy stare. “That right, Sam? I didn’t hear anything about this happening in other countries in your report.”

“I dealt with only confirmed reports. We have only unconfirmed reports from overseas … there was some speculation that the overseas phenomena might have been a smoke screen—”

“That’s enough,” McIntyre said sternly, cutting the CIA director off. The President’s jaw was set and his eyes were cold. “Go on, Dr. Paulson.”

“Second, there is no technological or theoretical basis for producing such phenomena.”

“Dr. Paulson … Nick … saying that what has happened couldn’t happen isn’t particularly useful”

“That’s not what I am saying, sir. I am suggesting that this may be a natural phenomenon.”

The President was about to speak again when Gogh interrupted. “Natural? There is nothing natural about disappearing cities, and topographical disruption. There is no record of any similar events ever recorded.”

“I know it hasn’t happened in the modern era, but there are ancient records that suggest something similar. Floods, lost continents, missing peoples, a number of events that are not dissimilar.”

Gogh was giving Nick a hard stare, but the President seemed genuinely interested in Nick’s theory, so Nick switched into his “explain it to the public” mode. “We’ve been on this planet for only a tiny slice of geological time. If you think of the life of this planet in terms of a twenty-four-hour clock, then the dinosaurs appeared about an hour ago and people have been here for only the last few seconds. There is over twenty-three hours of clock we are still trying to understand. This could have happened many, times before, but we would be unaware of it.”