Saucer

The duty officer did so.

'Who ordered armed patrols?'

'I believe that order came from the White House, sir.'

'Who gave permission to open fire?'

'Sir, that came from the White House.'

'Cancel it,' De Laurio shouted. 'Keep all those trigger-happy morons on the ground. What if they shoot down a United jet?'

'Well, sir, I think the White House understood that risk when — '

'You don't know these people. No one over there would take an iota of responsibility for an accident like that. Get all those airplanes on the ground and keep them there. That's a direct order. I'll take the responsibility.'

'Yes, sir.'

'I'll pass the Missouri launch stuff on to the president. How are we doing on springing that UFO team in Libya?'

'State has people talking to them now. We'll know more in about a half hour.'

'Call me back.'

'Yes, sir.'

Bombing Joe found O'Reilly in his office. 'A National Guard F-16 over Missouri just fired two Sidewinders at something,' he told the president's man. 'Apparently some damned fool gave orders for squadrons of fighters all over the country to fly armed patrols.'

'Watch your mouth, General. That 'damned fool' was the president. He felt he had to do something dramatic.'

'Why didn't he consult me? I don't even charge for professional opinions.'

'You were asleep at the Pentagon. We couldn't wait.'

'If some used-car salesman in a jet fighter shoots down an airliner full of voters, that will really be something dramatic, all right. Are you out of your little mind? Get a grip, O'Reilly.'

'Shut up, De Laurio!' O'Reilly was on his feet, his face red. 'You uniformed popinjays don't seem to realize that the fate of Western civilization is on the line.'

Before Bombing Joe could deck O'Reilly, the president darted into the room. He had just completed a press conference in which he had tried to look presidential. Never in his life had he had a day like this, not even when his mistress held a press conference in New York City to tell all. His face was ashen and his hands were shaking.

'Damned flying saucers,' he exclaimed as he plopped into a stuffed chair. 'Why in hell didn't these things plague the last administration? Why me?' He tugged at the knot in his tie.

'Because you deserve it,' Bombing Joe De Laurio muttered under his breath. If anyone heard that remark he gave no indication.

The general took a deep breath, silently counted to ten, then said loudly, 'Mr. President.' When he had the elected one's attention he told him about the report from Space Command.

'A saucer went into orbit from central Missouri?' O'Reilly asked incredulously.

'Apparently so, sir,' Bombing Joe said. 'And an F-16 fired two Sidewinders at it. Results unknown.'

'I don't believe a word of it,' the president said firmly and leaned back in the padded chair. 'I don't believe any of this horseshit.' He dabbed at his brow with a handkerchief, careful that he didn't swab off any makeup. 'The Washington Post wanted to know what this administration's position will be when aliens come to negotiate.'

'They really asked that?' O'Reilly seemed stunned.

'The college professors say it's time to acknowledge the presence of other life-forms in the universe. The religious types are going nuts. There's a mob of a thousand or so across the street in Lafayette Park waving signs and making speeches, talking about the imminent arrival of the Antichrist.'

'It's that bad?'

'It's that bad.' The president's face contorted in a grimace. 'I sacrificed everything for a career in politics. Now I'm the one who has to stand out there and welcome the aliens.'

'This is another right-wing conspiracy,' P.J. O'Reilly declared.

The telephone rang. General De Laurio grabbed it. He grunted a time or two, listened for about a minute, then carefully placed the receiver back on the hook.

He shook his head, rubbed his eyes. 'Okay. Finally we get the real story.' Both the president and chief of staff stared at him with their mouths hanging open.

'There is only one flying saucer,' Bombing Joe explained. 'A seismic survey crew dug it out of a sandstone ledge in the Sahara Desert. The thing was in the stone since Noah was mucking stables on the Ark. It is now being flown by a former Air Force test pilot and one of the survey workers.'

The president was horrified. 'Oh, my God!' he groaned.

'There is no invasion from Planet X,' Bombing Joe said, weighing each word, searching the president's face to see if he was getting through. 'There is no fleet of saucers, no aliens out to conquer the universe, no androids who eat human flesh, no battle of Armageddon. This crisis has been caused by two idiots zipping around in a round artifact scaring the bejesus out of people.'

'Who says all this? What's your source?' O'Reilly demanded.

'State got somebody in to see the UFO team that's being held in the central prison in Tripoli. The team was there with the saucer in the desert. They were actually inside it. The test pilot was on that team. When the Libyans showed up, she and a survey worker sneaked into the saucer amid all the excitement and flew it away.'

'Of all the rotten luck… ' said the president, staring at his hands. He sagged back into the chair. 'Why me, Lord? I just told the Post the aliens would be received like any other foreign dignitaries! I'm going to be laughed out of the White House.'

I'm going to get something to eat,' said Bombing Joe. He stood and marched out of the room before anyone could order him to remain.

Egg and Rip found the magazine in the dentist's waiting room. The receptionist, who was on the telephone, just nodded when Egg asked with gestures if they could have it. The three people sitting in the waiting area were watching television reruns of the saucer over Coors Field as experts off camera explained everything.

The Cantrells took the magazine and left.

Rip got a new toothbrush and razor at the drugstore across the street, which he put into Egg's suitcase. After a stop at the bank, Egg pulled up at a pay phone at a filling station on the edge of town.

Fifteen minutes later, Rip was confirmed on a flight from St. Louis to Los Angeles, and from there to Sydney. One way.

'Can you get me to St. Louis by noon, Egg?'

'Get in. Let's roll.'

'General, the saucer is coming out of orbit.' The voice on the telephone sounded smug. 'Space Command is tracking it. They're landing in Australia.'

De Laurio picked up a fork and whacked it on the table a couple of times. 'Okay,' he said after a moment's thought. 'Call State and the White House and let the duty officers there know. Maybe the Aussies can arrest these people before they scare everybody from Sydney to Perth.'

'Sir, our armed forces throughout the world are still at DEFCON ONE. What should we do about that?'

'Let the politicians decide. A little training won't hurt anybody. But under no circumstances is anyone to shoot at anybody or anything without direct authorization from the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Got that?'

'Yes, sir.'

Bombing Joe hung up the phone and attacked his breakfast.

Egg and Rip were an hour down the highway when Rip said, 'You check on Mom, will ya? See that she's all right. If those jerks are still at the farm, call the police. Send the cops over.'

'Sure, Rip. Don't worry about your mom. Hedrick got what he wanted. He's called off the dogs.'

'The saucer isn't going to do him any good.'

'Kid, you may not be able to get the saucer away from Hedrick. He's filthy rich, got his own private army,