'That's the end of it, then,' March murmured.
'There is still Rongelo Island,' said Jarvis.
'Yes,' the President said, nodding wearily, 'there is still that.'
'We cannot allow any trace of the organism to remain.'
The President looked at Jarvis. 'What do you propose?'
'Erase the island from the map,' Jarvis replied.
'Impossible,' said March. 'The Soviets would raise holy hell if we set off a bomb. The moratorium on aboveground nuclear tests has been respected by both nations for two decades.'
A thin smile touched Jarvis's lips. 'The Chinese have yet to sign the pact.'
'So?'
'So we take a page from Operation Wild Rose,' explained Jarvis. 'We send one of our missile-carrying subs is close as we dare to the Chinese mainland, then order it to launch a nuclear warhead at Rongelo Island.'
March and the President exchanged thoughtful glances. Then they turned to Jarvis, waiting for the rest of it.
'As long as American preparations for a test are nonexistent and none of our surface ships or aircraft are within two thousand miles of the blast area, there is no tangible evidence the Russians can use to build a case against us. On the other hand, their spy satellites cannot help but record the missile trajectory as originating from Chinese territory.'
'We might pull it off if we played shadylike,' said March, warming to the scheme. 'The Chinese would, of course. deny any involvement. And after the usual nasty accusations from the Kremlin. our own State Department, and the other outraged nations, condemning Peking, the episode would die and be mostly forgotten inside two weeks.'
The President stared into space as he battled with his conscience. For the first time in nearly eight years he felt the total vulnerability of his office. The armor of power was filled with hairline cracks that could burst apart when struck by the unanticipated.
At last, with the exertion of a man twice his age, he rose from his chair.
'I pray to God,' he said, his eyes filled with sadness, 'I am the last man in history who willfully orders a nuclear strike.'
Then he turned and slowly made his way toward the elevator that would take him up to the White House.
Fool's MATE
Umkono, South Africa
January 1989
The heat from the early-morning sun made itself felt as two men gently slipped the cradle ropes through their hands and lowered the wooden box to the floor of the grave. Then the ropes were pulled free, making a soft rustling sound as they snaked around the sharp, unsanded edges of the coffin.
'Sure you don't want me to fill it in?' asked an ebony-skinned gravedigger as he coiled the rope around a sinewy shoulder.
'Thanks, I'll take care of it,' Pitt said, holding out several South African rand notes.
'No pay,' said the gravedigger. 'The captain was a friend. I could dig a hundred graves and never repay the kindness he rained upon my family when he was alive.'
Pitt nodded in understanding. 'I'll borrow your shovel.'
The digger obliged, shook Pitt's hand vigorously, and flashed an enormous smile.
Then with a wave he set foot over a narrow path that led from the cemetery to the village.
Pitt looked around. The landscape was lush but harsh. Steam from the damp undergrowth wisped above the plants as the sun rose higher in the sky. He rubbed a sleeve over his sweat-soaked forehead and stretched out under a mimosa tree, studying its blossoming yellow fluffy balls and long white thorns and listening to the honking of hornbills in the distance. Then he turned his attention back to the large granite stone sitting at the head of the grave site.
HERE LIE THE FAMILY FAWKES
Patrick McKenzie
Myrna Clarissa
Patrick McKenzie, Jr.
Jennifer Louise
Joined together for all eternity
1988
A prophetic man, the captain, Pitt thought. The stone had been carved in its entirety months before Fawkes's death on board the Iowa. He brushed away a vagrant ant and dozed for the next two hours. He was awakened by the sound of a car.
The uniformed driver, a sergeant, braked the Bentley, slipped from behind the wheel, and opened the rear door. Colonel Joris Zeegler stepped out, followed by Defence Minister Pieter De Vaal.
'Seems peaceful enough,' said De Vaal.
'This sector has been quiet since the Fawkes massacre,' Zeegler replied. 'I believe the grave is this way, sir.'
Pitt rose to his feet and brushed himself off as they approached. 'It was good of you gentlemen to come so far,' he said, extending his hand.
'No great effort, I assure you,' De Vaal said arrogantly. He ignored Pitt's outstretched hand and sat irreverently on the Fawkes headstone. 'By coincidence, Colonel Zeegler had arranged an inspection tour of Northern Natal Province. A short detour, a brief stop-off in the schedule. No harm done.'
'This won't take long,' said Pitt, casually checking his dark glasses for smudges. 'Did you know Captain Fawkes?'
'I appreciate the fact your rather strange request to meet me in a rural cemetery came down from high sources in your government, but I want it understood that I'm here out of courtesy, not to answer questions.'
'Understood,' Pitt said.
'Yes, I once met Captain Fawkes.' De Vaal gazed into space. 'Back in October, I believe it was. Soon after his family were murdered. I expressed my condolences on behalf of the Defence Ministry.'
'Did he accept your offer to command the raid on Washington?'
De Vaal didn't bat an eye. 'Pure rot. The man was mentally unbalanced by the death of his wife and children. He planned and conducted the raid entirely on his own.'
'Did he?'
'My position and rank do not have to tolerate rudeness.' De Vaal came to his feet. 'Good day, Mr. Pitt.'
Pitt let him walk nearly twenty feet before he said, 'Operation Wild Rose, Minister. Our intelligence people knew about it almost from the beginning.'
De Vaal stopped in midstride, turned, and looked at Pitt. 'They knew?' He walked back until he was standing face to face with the man from NUMA. 'They knew about Wild Rose?'
'That shouldn't surprise you, of all people,' Pitt said affably. 'After all. it was you who leaked it to them.'
De Vaal's haughty composure cracked and he looked to Zeegler for support. The colonel's eyes were unblinking and his face was as hard as stone. 'Preposterous,' De Vaal said. 'You're making a wild accusation based on the wind.'
'I admit to a few holes in the net,' said Pitt. 'But I came into the game late. A neat scheme, and whatever the outcome, you won., Minister. The plan was never meant to succeed. Blaming the AAR for the raid in order to drum up sympathy for the South African white minority was a smoke screen. The real purpose was to embarrass and topple Prime Minister Koertsmann's party so the Defence Ministry could have an excuse for stepping in with a new
