Satisfied, he took off the headband, verbally sketched out the workings of the saucer for the sailor and answered a few questions.
Egg secured the reactor and closed the hatch when they both were once again on the ground.
As he stood up, he heard a voice call, “Arthur Cantrell! Arthur Cantrell!”
He spotted her in the front row of the scientists’ area. Professor Deborah Deehring, the archaeologist. She was smiling and waving. Uncle Egg felt his pulse soar.
He veered and strode toward her. Some Secret Service type with a badge and earpiece, talking into his lapel, gestured to Egg to stay back, but Hennessey took a hand. He had the badge of a presidential aide, so he was a big shot. He raised the rope for Deborah.
She gave Egg a hug, in front of the whole crowd and the television cameras, a hug seen round the globe.
“I was worried about you, Arthur,” she said.
“I was in good hands. Rip and Charley’s.”
They chatted as they strolled toward the Sahara saucer, where Charley Pine stood with a delegation of children around her as she touched the fuselage, pointed at the rocket engines and landing gear, and gave a grade-school explanation of saucer flight.
They stood back until she finished. Charley gave Deborah a little wave, then went under the saucer and opened the hatch, and the kids swarmed in. Egg and Deborah followed them.
Inside, Egg and Professor Deehring stood back while the kids romped and listened to Charley’s explanations. After about five minutes, Charley shooed the kids out and followed them, leaving the two adults alone. Egg seated Deborah in the pilot’s seat, put a headband on her and turned on the power.
She sat mesmerized as she once again explored the memories of the computers and the displays on the panel tracked her progress. Finally, almost reluctantly, she took off the headband.
“Oh, Arthur.”
Egg laughed. “Life holds its surprises.”
“No wonder you were so enthralled. There is so much information, it would take ten lifetimes to even sort through it, much less analyze it. Are you going to—?”
“No,” he said firmly. “Charley and Rip thought our flight here this morning was our last saucer flight, and I think they are right. The saucer gives too much. Just too much. Mankind isn’t ready yet.”
Egg glanced at his watch. “The shuttle from the starship should be here within minutes. Let’s get out and watch it land. See how the president handles it.”
“And the First Granddaughter,” Deborah added. “Amanda.”
“She’ll do fine,” Egg replied. “It’s the grandfather I’m worried about. All this talk about Fountain of Youth pills, eternal life by prescription … It would be madness, but the public and politicians are screaming for it.”
“That information is in these computers, isn’t it?”
“Yes. If the aliens don’t want these ships back, Rip, Charley and I agreed to launch them into the sun.”
19
The shuttle from the starship came out of the south, so it was first visible as a black speck in the sky to the audience gathered on the White House lawn and the hundreds of thousands of people standing in the streets. Amazingly, a giant hush fell upon the crowd.
The shuttle wasn’t using rocket engines. Rip noted that fact and whispered the observation to Charley Pine, who just nodded. They were standing with Uncle Egg, the president and Amanda, out front beside the two saucers. Everyone else was behind crowd control ropes strategically placed in a giant horseshoe. Television cameras were on mobile platforms behind the people, and several cameramen and sound technicians wearing badges were roaming near the presidential party ready to record the aliens’ and the president’s first remarks.
All over the globe people were gathered around their television sets. Outside of Washington, in every city, town, hamlet and village all over the world, streets and public places were deserted as people gathered to watch the Big Arrival. Network executives were orgasmic: Ad revenues, based as always on the size of the audience, were going to go through the roof. Never before in the history of the medium had this many humans watched the same event.
The shuttle was not a saucer. It was arrow-shaped, with stubby winglets and two short, wide, vertical stabilizers. The entire ship was a lifting body. As it crossed Constitution Avenue, stubby struts appeared on the wingtips and one from the belly, near the nose.
The shuttle slowed, drifted downward and landed facing the president. It was black, a glistening black; no doubt the entire skin was a solar panel to recharge the batteries, Rip decided, just like the saucers, and hard and tough enough to be unaffected by the near-absolute-zero of space or heat of entry into atmospheres.
Not a whisper could be heard. Seconds passed; then a hatch opened in the side of the ship, opened inward. A tiny stair came out. Then a person. It was obviously a woman, middle-aged, of medium stature, with short-cropped hair and brown skin, as if she were well tanned. She stepped out and looked around at the crowd, at the sky, at the buildings and trees and grass, taking it all in. She stood watching as other people emerged from the shuttle one by one and lined up behind her. Soon a dozen people were standing there. They wore khaki one-piece jumpsuits and some kind of footwear. No hats.
Amanda broke the spell. She had been holding the presidential hand, but now she bolted. She ran toward the starship crew fearlessly, her face alight, her hair flying, her legs and arms flashing in the early winter sun.
To the amazement of the onlookers, the woman who was the first person out of the saucer plopped down into a cross-legged sitting position on the grass and stared at the approaching child. She ran her fingers through the grass as Amanda ran up to her.
Amanda’s courage failed her then. She stopped several feet away and gazed hard at the woman. Their eyes were almost on a level. “I’m Amanda.”
I am the captain.
Several of the other space travelers also sat. Standing or sitting, they fixed their unwavering attention on the girl.
Then Amanda took a few quick steps and hugged the woman, who hugged her back. As the woman ran her fingers through the child’s hair and scrutinized her features, the crowd exploded in applause and cheering.
The applause and shouting didn’t stop. Now some of the shuttle crew began looking around, trying to take it all in. People were waving madly; tentatively, one crewman raised his hand and waved back. That stimulated the crowd, which got even noisier. Some of the others waved as well.
Finally the president walked over. He held out his hand to the seated woman.
“Welcome to earth,” he said.
Thank you. The woman got to her feet, glanced at the outstretched hand and took it. The president sensed that shaking hands was not a custom, so he pumped her hand once and released it.
“Did you bring any kids along?” Amanda demanded.
No. Unfortunately. She addressed the president. I am the captain.
The president introduced himself and his granddaughter.
The other spacemen and — women, for there were three more females, gently gathered around Amanda. They looked at her straw-colored hair, felt it, touched her … and two of them kissed her on the cheek.
Amanda set out to hug each and every one of them. It took a while. The applause continued unabated. Finally the president pointed at the White House and the group began to move. Amanda was the center of the group, so he took her hand and she followed. Maybe she was getting a bit nervous at all the attention. One of the space people lingered to close the hatch, then caught up with them.
“Is this your shuttle crew, Captain?”
This is my starship crew. All of them.
“Oh.”
They walked between the saluting soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines of the honor guard toward the open doors of the White House. All the space people were waving now. The crowd roared its approval as Petty Officer Hennessey, Rip, Charley, Uncle Egg and Professor Deehring followed the starship crew.