The mayor turned to Mitch. “Tell Ira that we’ll partially underwrite the infrared array if we can later incorporate it as part of the tourist attraction at the Alleyne-Parma Observatory.”
Mitch nodded, the expression in his eyes like the flat line on a heart monitor. “I just hope he doesn’t go rhetorical on me again.”
17
Neil and his family sat huddled in the back of an armored limousine heading through the dark streets of Miami. They were leaving town. Many buildings were now gutted. Others continued to blaze. The fire department was nowhere in sight. He heard the rumble of their escorting Morrison fighting vehicles outside the car. A priority family. At least they were getting the hell out of here. At least the powers that be finally understood they couldn’t stay in Coral Gables anymore.
Would it work? His mind circled back to the question of the hour. Would the omniphage munch through the carapace, and would the compound then mimic carbon dioxide appropriately? In the lab, yes. But in the phytosphere itself? The whole thing left him unsettled.
They soon reached the highway and traveled south.
Halfway to Homestead, he got a call. On his phone.
Secretary of Defense Sidower sounded tired but satisfied, his voice rough, as if he were recovering from a cold. “We’ve launched, Neil. South Dakota went first. Then Texas. Then Guam. Florida should be
next. You might see a few missiles from where you are. I can’t tell you how goddamned relieved we are.
I’ve read your reports. So has the president. I know we’re going to beat this thing.” Then, after a pause, he added, “You’ve done it again, Neil.”
Here it was, the basic integer of his life—people in power telling him he had done good. Yet he couldn’t help thinking of Kafis, the Tarsalans’ chief scientific envoy, his Tarsalan counterpart, and how Kafis, on his many visits to Marblehill, had always surprised him with peculiar ways of looking at things, and of thinking about things—as if the alien could rotate a problem in his mind, view it from all sides, and see every possible permutation and variation. The chess game. Was he going to win? Or was he going to lose?
“I think the hydrogen sulfide thing is sly enough to beat them.”
“I think so too.”
“It’s just a question of understanding the way they think. I’m lucky in that I’ve had many one-on-one sessions with Kafis. I know how sly he can be. He’s always seven steps ahead of the obvious. But I think the hydrogen sulfide is eight steps ahead.”
“If you’re going to beat a Roman, you have to think like a Roman.”
“Yes. And I think I’ve come to a real understanding of the… the Tarsalan mind-set.”
“I wish I could say the same, Neil. He’s a formidable adversary.”
“As formidable as Kafis can sometimes be, I don’t think he necessarily views the phytosphere in an adversarial context.”
“If the phytosphere isn’t adversarial, I don’t know what is.”
“As I said to the president, it’s a teaching tool. Or at least that’s the way I think Kafis views it.”
“Right,” said the secretary. “The cinerthax, or whatever you call it. The only thing it’s taught me is how to hate them more than I already did.”
“Hating an enemy and understanding one are two different things.” Neil felt he had to expand. “Children on the Tarsalan homeworld don’t live with their parents. They live with their teachers.”
The secretary of defense considered this. “I always hated school.”
“Kafis tells me the quest for knowledge is like a religion on Tarsala. Whenever he came to Marblehill, he was always trying to teach me things. Particularly with a variety of Tarsalan games. He says that in harmless games, especially where strategy is involved, we can learn a great deal about ourselves. From a military standpoint, that’s something you should keep uppermost in your mind.”
“And does Kafis think the phytosphere is a harmless game?”
“All I’m saying is that he understands things best through teaching protocols. They all do.”
“Then I guess we’re teaching them a lesson.” The secretary paused. “How soon can we expect to see some light?”
“Our best estimate is forty-eight hours. Maybe sooner.”
“And you’re sure it will start in alpha bloom first?”
“Yes.”
“Because it… it can’t come soon enough, Neil.” Sidower hesitated. Neil braced himself for yet more bad news. “Never mind the civilian side of things, I’m talking about the military.” It was like a personal admission of failure.
“Is the president safe?”
“He’s in lockdown.”
“And the vice president?”
“In a secure location in Key West.”
“And the president pro tem?”
“We’ve lost the president pro tem,” said Sidower. “He was assassinated in his home state. We think by Western Secessionists. It’s a tough thing, being a federal democrat in the West right now.”
Neil took this as a personal blow because he had been good friends with the president pro tem. “And the speaker?”
“Still safe.”
“And what about military bases?”
“We’ve had some problems.”
“But Homestead is safe.”
“Would I send you and your family there if it wasn’t?”
“So no problems at Homestead at all.”
“The rationing’s tight, Neil. There’s been some minor insubordination. But that’s it.”
“When was the last time you spoke to Greg?”
“Leanna spoke to him a couple of hours ago. He knows you’re on the way. He remembers you well.”
“I should hope so.”
“There’s nothing like the bond of the military. He’s got a nice place set up for you and your family in the Officers’ Compound. We’ve had laboratory units airlifted in, and bunks made ready for whatever personnel you think you might need for a second line.” The secretary put out a feeler. “The president wants to know if you’ve had any more thoughts about a second line yet.”
Neil glanced at the dark sky outside the limousine window, and again thought of Kafis. “I’ve drawn up the main, broad principles. If the omniphage and toxin don’t work, we develop a virus. We’ve already tested a few, and we’ve had some initial success against what’s turning out to be a fairly strong immune response on the part of the Tarsalan component in the xenophyta. We hope to have something workable, at least on paper, by the middle of the month. Is it possible to get help with a second string of biological launches from our allies?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
The seriousness of the situation seemed to color everything the secretary said.
“So they have no launch infrastructure intact?”
“If you think the U.S. is bad, you should see other countries.”
In the secretary’s terse utterances, he saw Armageddon’s remorseless agenda. “Are we talking horrific?”
The secretary cast around for the proper words. “It’s been going on for a while now, Neil. The surgeon general has advised us that the population has reached a nutritional threshold.” The implication was clear.
“As well, he’s reported outbreaks of cholera, diphtheria, and typhoid. Horrific would be understating the case.”
