“Yes, sir,” Danny said. “It took us quite a while, but we figured out a way to transport the phenomenon out of Hiroshima using a system of magnetic and electrical fields.”
“And where is it now?” Truman asked, peering over the top of his glasses.
Forrestal answered. “Nevada. There’s an old Army Air Corps auxiliary station called Indian Springs. It’s near a dried-out lakebed called Groom Lake, about a hundred miles away from pretty much anything. We’ve been keeping it there on an ad hoc basis, but at this point, we figured we might as well create something more permanent there.”
Truman reviewed the map Danny placed in his folder. “Who’s in charge of the nearest military installation?”
“We’re considering Bob Montague, Mr. President,” Hillenkoetter said. “He’s nowhere nearby — he’s just been put in command of Sandia out by Albuquerque — but we’ve worked with him on sensitive information before. Plus, he’s got the aircraft we’d need to travel to and from the base. I don’t see us driving out there a lot. Better to fly, anyway.”
“You trust him, Jim?” Truman asked Forrestal.
“I do, Mr. President.”
Truman shuffled through his papers. “So, we have an old Army Air Corps base in Nevada under the presumed command of a two-star in Albuquerque,” the President said, somewhat amused. “Approved. Now, I know you didn’t need my permission for that. So, why are you really here?”
Danny cleared his throat. “The light phenomenon releases minute amounts of energy. Fairly consistently, actually, even though it’s in small bursts. Between October 1945 and July of this year, we’ve recorded at least thirty-two such occurrences. We’re able to track them directionally when they do occur, and found up to a dozen aimed at various points around the forty-eight states, as well as other locations in Europe and South America.”
“I don’t suppose you could be any vaguer, could you?” the President scoffed. “Should I be worried? What kind of energy are we talking about here, Commander?”
“Well, like I said, it’s directional, for sure. San Francisco, Memphis, Mobile. We’re looking at an unusual mix of non-ionized radiation over an incredibly br—”
Truman held up his hand and cut in. “Now, just wait one minute! ‘Radiation’? A-bomb radiation?”
“No, Mr. President,” Hillenkoetter interjected. “Non-ionized, which means it’s not harmful. It’s the same kind of radiation that comes from the sun, or radio waves — just really tightly focused. I can get Vannevar Bush in here to brief you up on that if you like, sir.”
Truman shook his head, waving them on. “I shouldn’t have to tell you how strained our relations are with the Russians. You mention ‘radiation’ around here and I have a right to be concerned.”
“Of course, sir,” Danny said. “Moving on, we believe we know what’s happened to that directed energy. As you can see in your folder, we believe that energy has actually targeted… individuals, throughout the United States. And elsewhere. In fact, we’ve tracked down and recruited several of them for scientific testing.”
Frowning, Truman began to flip quickly through his folder. Danny began to talk, but Truman held up his hand once more to stop him. Hillenkoetter had warned Danny about this — Truman didn’t like being talked at when he could just as easily read for himself. He finally arrived at the right section, and his brow furrowed in concentration.
Several long minutes later, the President put his folder down on the table and leaned forward, his hands clasped. “If this were anybody else telling me this, gentlemen, I’d think they were pulling a goddamn joke on me. A strange white light of unknown origins is sending out energy beams and giving people, what… superpowers?”
“It’s not a joke, sir.” Forrestal said. “I know it sounds incredulous, but it’s really happening. These people have manifested extraordinary abilities — Enhancements.”
“And what exactly do you want to do with ‘these people’?” Truman demanded. “Are they US citizens?”
“Most of them,” Forrestal said. “Right now, we’re keeping them contained, studying them. And expending a lot of energy keeping them off Hoover’s radar.”
“Good. Make sure that son of a bitch doesn’t get his claws anywhere near ’em,” Truman said. “But what do we do with them after all that?”
“We want to use them, sir,” Hillenkoetter said. “Their enhanced abilities, Mr. President… well, they’re nothing short of extraordinary. If we can harness their power, we may have something on our hands on the level of another Manhattan Project.”
Truman’s eyes narrowed. “You want to turn these people into… weapons?”
Hillenkoetter shook his head. “No, sir. Assets. They’re patriotic Americans, or at least most of them are. If we can work with them, they may be able to help us. If we’re really going to have a cold war, then we’re going to need a different kind of soldier.”
Truman turned to Forrestal. “This doesn’t sound like your kind of idea, Jim.”
“It’s not, Mr. President,” the defense secretary replied, leaning back into the plush sofa. “Honestly, the Enhancements these people possess… I won’t deny that some of them are incredibly powerful. But that’s the point. There’s been virtually no testing done. We don’t even really know what we’re dealing with, and very few of these people have a real handle on their capabilities. They are walking liabilities and, under the wrong circumstances, could be profoundly dangerous.”
“So, why do I get the feeling you’re still in favor of this program?” Truman asked.
Forrestal grimaced. “On the one hand, our national security, I believe, is threatened by the very existence of people like this. Today’s cooperative civilian could become tomorrow’s criminal — or worse — with powers like these. In fact, you should know, Mr. President, that we have contingency plans in place for every individual we’ve collected, so that if something goes wrong, we’ll be able to—”
Truman held out a forceful hand. “I don’t want to know. I assume you’ll be able to handle whatever comes up. Move on, Jim.”
Forrestal cleared his throat. “Of course, Mr. President. Suffice it to say, I don’t fully trust these individuals, and I doubt I ever well. But our intelligence — good intelligence from the CIG — indicates that the Reds have their hands on another light… thing. Phenomenon. Whatever Wallace here is calling it. As for any individuals affected, we’ve intercepted some interesting messages between the East Germans and Lavrentiy Beria, Stalin’s security chief. Could be unrelated. Or…” Forrestal shrugged.
“…or Stalin may have a line on this like we do,” Truman finished. “He’s already trying to recreate the A-bomb. What will he do if he gets his hands on people who’ve been affected like ours have?” Truman closed his eyes momentarily, lost in deep thought. Then he looked over at Danny. “You’re the one studying this on the ground, Commander. You know this better than anyone.”
“It’s still early, Mr. President, but we’ve been working with them to better control their abilities, with varying degrees of success. Each one of the Variants — that’s what we’re calling them informally, sir — each one thinks about his or her ability differently. One woman believes she’s cursed, another man thinks he has psychic powers, and a third attributes his Enhancement to divine intervention—”
“Are they dangerous?” the President interrupted.
“The more we work with them, the less dangerous they become, sir,” Danny said. “The more control over these Enhancements they learn, the less likely it is that their abilities are accidentally triggered at the wrong time.”
Truman nodded. “So, we work with them and help them. And then, if they’re inclined to cooperate further?”