Saul reminded himself that as Commander in Chief of the same organization, he had swallowed that official line of logic. How many Titanics did it take before the lesson sank in permanently? Probably, it never did. Every generation had to learn for itself.
Saul knew how tired he was. At fifty-six, he was sure he had less energy than his ninety-two-year-old mother. He pulled himself back with an effort to Mackay, silently waiting and watching.
“I’m sorry, General. I rely on your judgment completely. What you feel is safe for me to fly, I fly.”
“Yes, sir. Give us several more days, if you please. I’m working with the civilian agencies to define a network of suitable landing fields and en route handoffs. Of course, for the time being everything will be on visual flight rules.”
“Fuel?”
“Not a problem. More diesel oil and kerosene than we know what to do with.”
“Unless we have more break-in problems.”
Grace Mackay had finally heard something to put surprise on her drawn gray face. “Seriously? People are stealing aircraft fuel?”
“It looks like it. You can’t really blame them. Diesel fuel and heating oil are the same thing. The power grid is still down, and in the north-central states the emergency distribution system of heating oil isn’t working as it’s supposed to. No, that’s the wrong way to put it. The distribution system isn’t working at all. We’re operating under martial law. Looters are in danger of being shot. But before the blackout North Dakota was reporting fifty below. People are stealing because if they don’t take what they need they’ll freeze to death — and we don’t have a broadcast system to warn them they may be shot.”
Saul paused. He was doing what a good communicator never did. Unless there was a secondary reason, maybe to reassure someone or to drive home a point extra hard, you didn’t tell somebody what they already knew. With the head of civil law enforcement vanished in Florida and presumed dead, Grace Mackay had been a key player in justifying martial law.
“Sorry, General. You know more about most of this than I do.”
With others present, she would have made at least a formal disclaimer. Between the two of them, she just smiled. “Too damn much, Mr. President. May I offer you a piece of better news?”
“I can use all you’ve got.”
“Data bases. We’ve been assuming that all the civilian data bases were wiped clean by the pulse.”
“They were. I’ve had fifty reports coming in from all over the region.”
“But the intelligence data bases were protected. They are in Prospero-rated environments, sitting inside Faraday cages, and the pulse didn’t get to them.”
“So?”
“Well. I’m a bit embarrassed to tell you this, because the Secretary of Defense has final responsibility for what’s stored in the MMCIDB — the Merged Military Central Intelligence Data Base. It turns out that a whole lot of stuff found its way in there that shouldn’t have, and I didn’t know about it. They’ve got FBI files and population demographics and tons of personnel records.”
“My God. And I’ve been telling the House Minority Leader for two years that she’s paranoid about illegally stored and classified records. I owe Sarah an apology.”
“Mander? I thought she was dead. She was on one of the earlier lists.”
“I know. Her version is that she worked late, fell asleep in her office, and missed her ten o’clock flight. I think she missed it because she was shacked up. Either way, she has plenty of luck. What do you think you can do with the MMCIDB records?”
“Too soon to know. But there’s a good deal of computer power locked up in those Prospero environments, and there are probably others in different parts of the country that we haven’t been able to reach yet. I think we have a shot at reconstructing many of the civilian data bases.”
“Good work, Grace. That’s the best news I’ve had all day — not that most of today has been too brilliant.” Saul leaned back and rubbed at his eyes so vigorously that he knew he was making them bloodshot. “But I’m glad I’ve got this job — for a damned silly reason.”
He yawned and she waited. It was the end of a long day, and when he called her Grace she knew he was letting down his hair and indulging himself.
“Three years ago, Grace, I was in the top one hundred people of the country for personal wealth. Can you imagine that?”
“Frankly, sir, I can’t. I can believe it, but I can’t imagine it.”
“That’s a fair answer. But do you know what the other ninety-nine people are probably doing, those that are alive? They’re sitting and wondering if they have anything left to count. The markets are closed, the economy has collapsed, none of the usual measures of wealth mean much anymore. And you know what, Grace? I just don’t give a shit about money, mine or anyone else’s. I’m too busy wondering if we’re going to come out of the other side of this thing as a country, or if I’m the last President of the United States.”
“I feel sure that you are not, sir. We will survive.” She stood up. “Will there be anything else? I would not ask that question, but I have a meeting and eight people waiting for me down the hall.”
“A few more minutes. They’re probably enjoying the chance to relax.” He waved her back to the chair. “I had the Deputy Science Adviser in here this morning. What do you think of Dr. Vronsky?”
“I am told that he has a very fine scientific mind, Mr. President.”
“No need to be so cautious, we’re not being recorded. Hell, if I wanted to record us I doubt if I could do it. My question is, do you understand what Vronsky says?”
“Usually. But he’s not as clear as Dr. Chafets.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that. I picked poor Doc Chafets as my Science Adviser because he knew exactly how much to dumb it down for me. Now he’s dead, and Vronsky may be supersmart but he can’t lower himself to my level. Yesterday he was trying to tell me about some big problem coming up in fifty or sixty years’ time. Fifty years! And here I am worried about making it through tomorrow.”
“Sometimes his explanations are beyond me, too, sir.”
“And you have advanced degrees in physics and engineering. Think how he sounds to me, Grace — I know the media say I was a child prodigy who graduated college when I was fifteen, but what they don’t tell you is that after that I went into real estate investment and didn’t even go back for my diploma. I listen to Vronsky, and I don’t understand. So I ask him questions, but his answers make me more confused.”
“Yes, sir. If there’s any way that I can help. . . .”
“That’s what I’m getting to, in my not-so-subtle way. I want you to explain some things about Supernova Alpha.”
“I’ll do my best. What kind of things?”
“Why didn’t people warn me about the pulse? Hell, I had briefings on everything from clouds over the Sahara to supermonsoons to calving of the Antarctic ice cap. It sounded more like a case for humanitarian relief than the collapse of this country. No one said a word about an electrical pulse that would knock everything sideways. I still don’t know why the damn thing happened — or why it didn’t happen at the same time as the supernova.”
“Right.” Grace Mackay sat perfectly still for a few moments. “According to Dr. Vronsky, he did mention the remote possibility of the electrical pulse to you, weeks ago. He says its delay was inevitable. But it was an accident of geometry that it happened at all.”
“That’s exactly what I’m getting at. Accident of geometry? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I don’t get any of this.”
“May I start with basics, sir? You know what a supernova is?”