Chapter 12

The White House

Gordon Winston walked down the hallway unescorted. He’d been to the White House on several occasions, and had met the President twice at social functions, but this would be his first meeting in the Oval Office.

As he entered the antechamber, the President’s secretary got up from her chair immediately, and with a polite smile said, "You can go right in. They’re expecting you." She opened the door for him.

President Carl Dellinger was sitting on one of two facing love seats on either side of a small coffee table at the opposite end of the office from his desk. Next to the President was General Vincent Hammond, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Across from him was Larry Chapin, Director of the National Security Agency, Winston’s boss.

"Ah, Gordon, good to see you," said the President. "Please be seated," he said, indicating the place next to Chapin.

"Good morning, Mr. President," said Winston, "General Hammond, Director Chapin," he said, nodding to the two men.

"Gordon, we were just discussing the situation down in Antarctica, and since you’ve been in direct contact with your man down there, it seemed most appropriate to have you participate in this meeting."

"It’s my pleasure, sir," Winston replied.

"I understand they’re planning on trying to open one of the smaller structures."

"That’s correct, sir. They’re hoping to be able to make an attempt within a few days."

"And your man is on the scene?"

"Yes sir. Dan Lightfoot, one of our best and most experienced field agents. If they manage to open the door to the structure – the small pyramid – he’ll be one of the first two men inside, along with Dr. Arnold Greissman of the CDC."

"And I understand that he’s equipped with everything he might need in the event things were to get out of hand?"

Winston glanced at Chapin, who gave the slightest of nods. "Yes, Mr. President. He has with him a 50 kiloton tactical device that can be detonated within less than 30 seconds if necessary." When the other three men continued to look at him without saying anything, Winston added, "He’s been fully briefed on the circumstances that would require such action." Winston looked at the three others in turn. "And he’s prepared to do what’s necessary," he added.

"It’s the circumstances under which the device would be used that we’re here to discuss, Gordon," said Chapin. "Would you mind summarizing for us the orders under which Agent Lightfoot is currently operating?"

"Well..." said Winston, "Since we really don’t know what we’re dealing with, his orders have been necessarily broad. The device would only be used if he were to determine that whatever they find is without question a threat to the security of the United States or the world population in general." He paused for a moment. "Frankly Mr. President, we feel that if something down there were to be a threat to U. S. security, almost by definition it would also be a threat to the entire planet."

"Can you give me an example of what Agent Lightfoot would consider to be without question a threat?" asked the President.

"Our greatest fear is of biological contamination. Since it appears that we’re dealing with a city built by... well... extraterrestrials, there could be some form of biological material that’s survived even after tens of millions of years that could be extremely dangerous. Beyond that, the simple fact is that in trying to anticipate what they might find, we simply have no idea what the possible hazards are. Opening the structures could trigger the release of gases, radiation – possibly of a type about which we know nothing – or any other of about a dozen scenarios that were brought out in brainstorming sessions. For all we know, the structures could be booby trapped in some way."

Dellinger leaned back on the seat. He knew that this latter possibility had been discussed, and it had caused him great concern. He had considered ordering the entire site shut down and sealed off, and it had only been when Dan Lightfoot had found no traces of radiation or electromagnetic energy that he’d somewhat reluctantly allowed the project to continue.

"This is why we took the rather unusual step of arming our man with the device, and in essence leaving its use to his discretion. Agent Lightfoot has degrees in both chemistry and physics, and he’s also been one of our unofficial exobiologists. He’s a former Naval officer, and his record as a field agent is superb. But he’s also a family man, and his personality profile rates him as one of the most stable and well-adjusted people we have."

The President leaned forward. "Gordon, I don’t mind telling you that I’m very uncomfortable with having a tactical nuclear device in the hands of a single individual. I reviewed Agent Lightfoot’s record before approving him for the job, so what you’re telling me is familiar ground. What I’d like to know is your personal take on him."

"I’ve worked with Dan for nearly 13 years, Mr. President, and I’d trust him with my life. Come to think of it, I – we – may possibly be doing just that. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have in that position."

"I’m pleased to hear you say that, Gordon," said the President. "At the same time, I’d like to see if there’s any way we can tighten up the rules of, shall we say, engagement. Do we know anything now that we didn’t know when Agent Lightfoot left for Antarctica?"

"Not a significant amount, really," replied Gordon. "We’ve had our own people along with platoons of specialists at schools around the country – around the world, for that matter – studying the writing that’s been found on the walls of the two pyramids. There seems to be no question that it is indeed writing, but so far no one appears to be even close to cracking it.

"The biggest change in plans since Lightfoot left was the decision to open the small pyramid first, which was a decision we applauded. We feel the threat may be smaller going into what we assume is a structure of lesser importance, and that what we learn may help better prepare us for the main structure.

"On the other hand, it also changed the implications of using the device."

"How so?" asked the President.

"We assumed that if necessary, the device would be detonated inside the main pyramid. If set off inside the upper section, this would most likely vaporize the upper part, and presumably most if not all of the lower part, along with anything contained within it. Now that the smaller pyramid is being opened first, the problem becomes a bit more complex.

"Setting the device off inside the smaller pyramid would almost certainly vaporize it, but there’s a good chance that the main structure would survive with little or even no damage."

"Even with 50 kilotons?" the President asked. "Good God, that’s more than twice the Hiroshima yield."

"Our testing of the material used to construct these pyramids shows that it would hold up better than almost anything we have at our disposal. If the device were to be detonated inside the smaller pyramid, then – depending on the thickness of its walls, which is information we don’t yet have – a fair amount of the energy would be absorbed just turning it into vapor. In effect, it, along with nearly 75 feet of ice, would act to shield the main pyramid."

The President considered this for a moment, and then shifted gears. "How many people are currently at the site?"

"Eighteen presently, with another half dozen in transit and due to arrive within a few days," Winston replied.

"And what’s our worst-case scenario?"

"The worst case would be for Lightfoot to find something that presents a clear and immediate danger. And by immediate, I mean right then. As I mentioned, he can arm and detonate the device in less than 30 seconds. This would of course mean the loss of all personnel."

"What the best-case scenario that would include the use of the device?"

"He finds something that presents a clear danger, but determines that there’s time to evacuate before the device detonates."

"How long would evacuation take?" the President asked.

"It depends to a large degree on the weather, which at this time of year, is working against us, but in any case, it’d be about an hour. Minimum safe distance would be at least three miles, but ten would be better. Best of all would be getting everyone back to McMurdo.

"In bad weather they can use the Snowcats to get to minimum safe distance in as little as an hour. In good weather, a C-130 could evacuate the entire crew to McMurdo in about an hour and a half."

Again the President took a moment to consider Winston’s information. "All right, is there anything else we should discuss about the nuclear option?"

"Actually, there is, sir," Winston replied. "One of our people pointed out something that I must admit I hadn’t considered," he said, not referring to Doug Lee by name.

"What’s that?"

"It’s along the lines of the booby trap possibility, but in this case an unintentional booby trap. We have no idea of course what we’ll find inside either of the pyramids, but one possibility is that there remain the remnants of either a power source or an actual weapon that would be triggered by our device. Rather like the way a fission device provides the trigger for a thermonuclear device. Only we have no way of knowing how powerful such an explosion might be."

"You mean it could be more powerful than a hydrogen bomb?" asked the President, using the word "bomb" for the first time, rather than the "device" euphemism preferred by defense and intelligence people.

"Sir," Winston replied, "we simply don’t know. We don’t have the technology to build a device that could destroy an entire planet, but we can imagine such a capability."

The room was silent as the President slumped back on the seat. This was precisely the kind of thing he didn’t want to hear. It was bad enough putting a nuclear bomb out in the field in the hands of a single man, but to now learn that there was the possibility – however slim – of blowing up the planet was just too much.

"I like this idea less and less," he said. The others remained silent as he considered the situation.

"Alright," he said, again sitting upright, "what other options do we have, short of the nuclear one?"

Winston was ready for this. "Again, Mr. President, our major concern is biological. An alternative would be to simply seal the entire site back under the ice in the event of trouble. It’s been down there, not hurting a soul, for 65 million years. If we sealed it back up, there’s no reason it shouldn’t stay down there for another 65 million years."

The President brighten visibly. "What would it take to do that?"

For the first time General Hammond spoke up. "We could provide shaped charges that would be placed at varying depths in the shaft down to the site that would bring 500 feet of ice down over it. It would be almost as if the shaft had never been sunk."

"How many charges would it take?" asked the President.

"Just off the top of my head, I’d probably want to see three at each level, every 50 feet or so, so I’d guess around 30 altogether."

Chapin spoke up, as if it was now his turn to contribute. "Of course, it’d be virtually impossible to get that number of charges in place and wired without it being obvious to the scientific team what we were doing. That’s a job for the military, not for covert operatives."

"I agree," said Winston, "which would mean obtaining the cooperation of the research team."

"That I’m not worried about," said the President. "They might not like it, but to me it sounds like a prudent precaution. And I like it a hell of a lot more than our other option."

"Does that mean that you want us to remove the nuclear alternative, sir?" Winston asked.

"No... I think we should have all bases covered. But your suggestion gives us additional options, and makes me much more comfortable with the situation. It also gives us an excuse to get the military involved. I don’t want to turn this into a military operation by any means, but I’d feel better having someone in the direct chain of command on site."

He turned to Hammond. "How long would it take you to get a team down there and do the job?"

"Depending on what the Navy’s got in the area, I’d guess possibly as soon as a few days."

"Good, good." The President rubbed his hands together. He felt much relieved.

"How are we going to break the news to the scientific team?" asked Winston.

The President smiled. "Gordon, you just leave that to me."

Dan Lightfoot knocked on Hal Reynolds’ door, hoping to find him still awake. "Come," was the reply. He opened the door and poked his head into the room.

"Can you spare me a minute?" he asked.

"Sure," Reynolds answered, "come on in."

"Actually, I’d like you to come down the hall to my opulent suite, if you don’t mind."

Reynolds frowned. "OK," he said, getting up.

He followed Lightfoot down the hallway to his room. Upon entering, he could hardly help but notice the elaborate satellite telephone set up on the small desk in the room, much larger than the hand-held units most people had. Lightfoot’s room was identical to everyone else’s, which was to say, cramped.

"I have a conference phone call for you," Lightfoot announced.

With a quizzical look at Lightfoot, Reynolds picked up the receiver. "Hello?" he said.

"Hal, this is Royce. I have someone on the line who’d like to speak with you."

Before Reynolds could respond he heard an instantly familiar voice.

"Dr. Reynolds, this is Carl Dellinger."

Despite being taken aback, Reynolds managed to reply. "Good evening, Mr. President. To, uh, what do I owe this honor?"

"Dr. Reynolds, I’d first like to say that we’ve been following your work down there with great interest, and I think I can speak for the entire nation, if not the world, when I say that we’re impressed with your efforts and fascinated by your findings."

"Thank you sir. The initial discovery was actually rather an accident."

"I’m aware of that. May I call you Hal?"

"Of course, Mr. President."

"Hal, I know that this project is your baby. You started it, and you’ve continued to manage it, and I think you’re doing a splendid job."

"Thank you again sir."

"What you’ve uncovered is potentially the biggest thing in human history, and I think it’s appropriate that the project is being handled by the leading universities not only here in the U. S., but from around the world." Reynolds remained silent.

"Part of my job is to make sure that the United States and our allies remain secure, and that means from any kind of threat. Now we still don’t know for sure what it is you’ve uncovered down there, but among the many possibilities we have to consider is that it might somehow pose a threat to human life."

It was something that had crossed Reynolds’ mind, but he’d dismissed it if for no other reason than the fact that the Town was so incredibly old.

"Now I know that Dan Lightfoot’s been with you since early in the project, representing the EPA." Reynolds looked over at Lightfoot, who responded with a wry grin. "Actually," the President continued, "you could say that Dan’s been detached to the EPA from his normal job, which is with the National Security Agency."

Reynolds put his hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, "You’re a spy?" Lightfoot shrugged his shoulders.

Reynolds removed his hand from the mouthpiece. "I see, Mr. President."

"I’ve asked Dan to brief you on our concerns, and on some steps that we feel need be taken to address them. We don’t expect that anything we do will interfere in any way with your progress, and this will have no effect whatsoever on your authority over the project. Think of Dan, if you will, as your liaison with the U. S. government."

"Very well, sir."

"Hal, let me reiterate how excited we are about the work that you and your team are doing down there. We’ll be following your progress very closely."

Reynolds simply couldn’t help himself. "I’m sure you will, Mr. President." If Dellinger caught the slight jab, he paid no apparent attention.

"Keep up the good work, Hal."

"I will, Mr. President. Goodnight sir," he said. There was a click on the line.

"Royce, are you still on the line?"

"I’m here, Hal."

"I’ll give you a call back in a little while. From my phone."

"I figured as much. I’ll wait here until I hear from you."

Reynolds hung up the handset and turned to Lightfoot.

"When were you planning on telling me that you were a spook?"

"When my superiors instructed me to. Which turned out to be now." He motioned to the phone. "And it doesn’t get much more superior than that."

"So what, do you have all sorts of spy equipment, and explosives, and weapons and all that kind of stuff with you?"

"I can’t discuss the type of equipment I may or may not have with me."

"So what are these concerns the President was talking about?"

"Have a seat," Lightfoot replied, sitting on the desk chair. Reynolds sat down on the cot.

In the space of 15 minutes, Lightfoot sketched out an overview of the issues that were involved with national and international security. Reynolds had to admit that there were possibilities he hadn’t considered, and which made sense. When he learned that the shaft to downtown would be mined, however, he was not at all pleased.

"You mean to tell me that there are circumstances under which the shaft would be blown with the crew still downtown?"

"Hal, that would be an absolute worst-case scenario. With the protocols we’ve set up, something would have to go terribly, terribly wrong for that to be the only solution. But we simply don’t know what we’re dealing with here, and that means we don’t know what the possibilities are."

"Cripes, this place has been dead for 65 million years!"

"Hal, we don’t know that. We just assume that."

Reynolds rolled his eyes.

"Look," Lightfoot continued, "let me play out just one scenario for you. We’re getting ready to open up structures created by what was obviously an advanced civilization from who knows where. If these beings were from another world, then they obviously had the technology to get here.

"Now as far as we know – and the best minds tell us it’s all but certain – physical faster-than-light travel simply isn’t possible. Which could mean either that the beings who built the Town were spacefarers, who spent most of their lives, generation after generation, living on ships in space, visiting planets like ours. Or, maybe they found another way to travel. It’s been suggested that particles called tachyons can actually travel faster than light. Now I know this’ll sound far-fetched, but what if they have a means of transporting themselves between planets? Like the transporters in science fiction films. We assume the Town is uninhabited because it’s under 500 feet of ice, but what if it’s not?"

Reynolds gave Lightfoot a sideways look, but said nothing.

"My point is that we’re up against a complete unknown, and all the rules we know simply may not apply. We have to be prepared for the worst, even while we hope for the best."

Lightfoot fell silent, letting Reynolds absorb the information. Reynolds wasn’t happy by a long shot, but he realized that much of what Lightfoot had said was true.

"So what happens next?" he asked.

"While we’re getting the airlock set up at the Outhouse, the Navy’s sending in a team of Seabees. They’ll be here in three days, weather permitting. They’ll place the charges in the shaft, and then most of them will move out."

"Most of them?"

"They’re leaving an officer behind. He’ll be the one with his finger, so to speak, on the button."

"Dan, I’ve got another half dozen people coming in within the next few days, and we’re already out of room. Where am I supposed to put this guy?"

"Ah," said Lightfoot, "that’s the best part. The Seabees are bringing in prefab shelters that can be set up along the wall of the residential end of the shed. They’re self-contained, and they’re gonna leave them behind. We’ll pick up six extra rooms."

This was the only good news Reynolds had heard so far.

Lightfoot went over a few more details, and the two men made plans to tell the rest of the team at breakfast the next morning. Lightfoot had left out any mention of the device he’d brought with him; that definitely fell into the category of "need to know," which Reynolds didn’t.

When they finished, Reynolds went not to his room, but to the office, where he placed a call to Royce Clayton.

"When did you find out about this?" asked Reynolds.

"I got a call just this afternoon from a guy named Chapin, who I gather is head of the NSA. He filled me in, and then told me to expect a conference call between you, me and the President. I’m just guessing, but I’d say it served to get your attention, not to mention your cooperation."

"Well, it’s not like I really had a lot of choice."

"How upset are you, Hal?"

"Oh, I’ll get over it. They have some valid points. I’m just a little pissed that Lightfoot’s been here all this time and I didn’t know that he was a goddamned spook!"

"Yeah, I can see how that would bother you."

"Thing of it is, I’ve gotten to like him. He’s a straight-up kinda guy. He helps out even when it’s not part of his job – or at least what I thought was his job."

"Well, they’ve assured me that the Navy will be in and out within two days, and that it shouldn’t interfere with your work. Hang in there, Hal."

"Yeah. Talk to you later," said Reynolds before hanging up.

At the briefing the next morning, Reynolds told the team that there was an announcement, and then asked Lightfoot to re-introduce himself and then explain what would be happening.

He took a certain amount of satisfaction from the fact that any animosity over the mining of the shaft – and he was certain there’d be some – would be directed at Lightfoot, and not at himself.

Overall, he was surprised at how well the team took the news. Part of this had to be attributed to the fact everybody knew Lightfoot, and while he’d been duplicitous with them, he addressed that fact squarely, apologized that he’d had to do it, and then provided a completely reasonable explanation of why the additional precautions were necessary.

But afterward, it was obvious that the mood of the entire team had changed. Previously, there had almost been a giddiness to the atmosphere, with the team members driven by a sense of adventure and discovery. Lightfoot’s announcement cast a more serious mood over the group, which Reynolds eventually decided was not only natural, but in a way, possibly a good thing.

It wasn’t that the stakes had gone up so much as that they hadn’t before realized how high the stakes had been. Now they did.