Resistance: The Gathering Storm

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Rather than try to imitate the Cabinet Room in the genuine White House, the decision had been made to create something entirely different under the cupola, which was positioned at the very center of the new residence. In keeping with the dome above, the table around which the President’s advisers were about to gather was circular, symbolizing the collegial spirit that Grace liked to project as being typical of his administration.

The table rested on a round carpet that was large enough for all twelve chairs to rest on. Provisions had been made for aides to sit higher up, behind a low wall, where they could observe what went on below and participate if called upon to do so. That section was empty, however, partly because it was a Saturday, and partly because the gently curving seats were still being constructed.

In keeping with Grace’s well-known penchant for punctuality, all of his subordinates were present when he entered the room. They stood as he strode to where his chair awaited, located at the eastern point of the compass-shaped inlay that was set into the mahogany tabletop. Vice President Harvey McCullen’s chair marked the western point of the compass, Secretary of State Harold Moody stood with his back to the north, and newly named Secretary of War General Gregory Issen was stationed to the south.

The others, including Presidential Counsel Hanson, Attorney General Clowers, Secretary of Agriculture Seymore, Secretary of Transportation Keyes, Secretary of the Interior Farnsworth, Secretary of Commerce Lasky, and Chief of Staff Dentweiler, occupied the quadrants in between, with room to spare.

The room still reeked of fresh paint as Grace motioned for his advisers to sit down. The reports that followed were anything but encouraging: As Seymore spoke of persistent food shortages, Keyes bemoaned a lack of trains necessary to move critical supplies around, and Lasky reported that the steadily growing underground economy was a serious problem. The greenback was steadily falling out of favor as more and more citizens were choosing to use silver coins, gold pieces, and old-fashioned barter to settle their debts. All of which made for a very gloomy meeting until it was Dentweiler’s turn to speak.

“So, Bill,” Grace said. “What have you got for us? Something positive I hope.”

It was Dentweiler’s moment, and he planned to take full advantage of it, as all eyes rested on him. “Yes, Mr. President, I do have something positive to report. Simply put, Project Omega is poised for success. The first objective, which was to recapture Daedalus, has been accomplished.”

That news was sufficient to stimulate applause, which made Dentweiler feel very good, and brought a broad smile to Grace’s face.

“Well done! That’s the sort of thing we need more of. Where is he?”

“Sheridan, Wyoming, sir,” Dentweiler replied. “Our experts are trying to establish workable communication protocols with Daedalus. Once that effort is complete, we’ll be able to open negotiations anytime we want to.”

“So, Daedalus is cooperative?” Farnsworth wanted to know.

Dentweiler smiled tightly.

“No,” he answered honestly, “I wouldn’t go that far… But, thanks to the right sort of encouragement, Daedalus continues to grow more cooperative with each passing day. Let’s put it that way.”

A number of people chuckled, but the Vice President wasn’t one of them.

“I think we’re playing with fire,” McCullen observed darkly. “The last thing the people of the United States want us to do is negotiate with the Chimera. But, even if they did support the idea, we would be foolish to trust someone like Daedalus. He may have been human once—but he isn’t any longer.”

“Project Omega is an option, Harvey, and nothing more,” Grace interjected smoothly. “And I think all of us want to have as many options as we can come up with. But enough of that… Let’s move on to the Victory Tour. How’s that coming?”

Some of the cabinet members, Secretary of War Issen among them, thought it was premature to call the upcoming swing through the heartland a “victory tour,” given conditions on the ground, but Grace had persisted. After the Lincoln Memorial incident, the people needed reassurance.

“Preparations are well underway,” Dentweiler replied confidently. “You’re scheduled to give the first speech the day after tomorrow, here in Denver. After that it’s on to Omaha, St. Louis, Memphis, New Orleans, Houston, Phoenix, and the West Coast. We’ll be busing people in from the Protection Camps to enhance the crowds. I think you can count on some extremely positive coverage in all the major papers.”

“It will boost morale,” Lasky predicted enthusiastically. “I like it.”

“So do I,” Grace agreed, “although I can’t say I’m looking forward to all those chicken dinners!” That produced a chorus of chuckles.

The meeting ground on, and the snow continued to fall.

It had been a long day, and Cassie Aklin was tired by the time she finally arrived home, and was able to close and lock the door. Her roommate had already departed for work by then, which meant Cassie had the apartment to herself, as she shed her work clothes in favor of a robe and slippers.

Then, with some Nat King Cole playing on the radio, Cassie made a simple dinner that consisted of scrambled eggs with small chunks of fried Spam mixed in, and a piece of toast. Though plain by prewar standards, the meal was special because eggs were hard to come by. The local grocer had been kind enough to hold two of them for her.

Later, after the dishes had been washed, dried, and put away, Cassie went into the living room, where a book titled The Catcher in the Rye sat waiting on the side table next to her favorite chair. She had just sat down, and was in the process of making herself comfortable, when she heard a knock on the door.

It was probably Elsie, the elderly woman who lived down the hall, but with so many desperate people flooding into town she took the moment necessary to peer through the peephole before turning the bolt. What she saw made her heart jump.

“Nathan?” Cassie demanded, as she threw the door open. “Is it really you?”

That question was answered in no uncertain terms as Hale stepped in to close the door with a backward kick and wrapped Cassie in his arms. Her lips were there waiting, and half a minute passed as they kissed and whispered private things to each other.

Then, when they broke contact, Cassie looked up into Hale’s face and smiled.

“I missed you… Could you tell?”

Hale smiled.

“No, let’s try that again.”

So they kissed again, and it wasn’t long before a trail of discarded clothing led to the bedroom, where Hale laid Cassie on her bed.

“Let’s take it slowly,” she suggested softly. “Let’s make it last until dawn.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hale responded with mock seriousness, as he lay down next to her. “Your wish is my command.”

Two hours later the lovers took a shower together. And even though they had fallen well short of Cassie’s goal, neither saw any reason to complain as they helped dry each other off. Then, clad in nothing more than a pair of boxer shorts, Hale followed Cassie into the kitchen, where she made a grilled cheese sandwich for him.

“So,” she said as Hale took his first bite, and she sipped some tea. “Are you on leave? I know you aren’t here for a checkup… I would have heard about that.”

“President Grace is going to give a speech in front of the state capitol,” Hale explained. “And given how unstable the situation is, SRPA agreed to provide extra security. So, being a true patriot, I volunteered to take part.”

The last was delivered with a mischievous grin and Cassie laughed.

“Liar! You wanted to mooch one of my world-famous grilled cheese sandwiches!”

“Yeah,” he agreed lightly. “You have me dead to rights. It’s all about your grilled cheese sandwiches.”

Cassie smiled indulgently. “You are a very bad boy.”

Hale’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Does that mean I’m going to be punished?”

“Yes,” Cassie answered gravely. “It’s too late to send you to bed without your dinner… But I can still send you to bed early.”