“Were we really that close to war?”
“The fact that most satellites were spared kept it from happening,” Moore told her. “The president used the hotline; he was able to convince them that wave was a natural occurrence, but I don’t think it would have worked if they could not look down on us and be sure we weren’t launching missiles.”
“The children will not learn,” she said. “Maybe we’ll learn now.”
“Let’s hope so.”
“What happens next?”
Moore brightened. “Well, for one thing, your intrepid chief might get an award of some kind, maybe even a Nobel Prize for his revolutionary new theory on the workings of earth’s magnetic field. What do you think sounds better: ‘Moore’s theorem’? or the ‘Arnold axiom’?”
“Go with the first one,” she said smiling.
“Noted.”
“I want to get out of here,” she told him.
“Of course you do,” he said. “Someone’s coming to see you first. And I figured you’d want something proper to wear when you meet the president of the United States.” He offered her a tote bag filled with clothes from her home.
She took the bag eagerly and started pawing through it. She couldn’t have been more excited if it were filled with gold.
He turned.
“Where are you going?”
“To find McCarter and relieve him of his temporary status and then to see Hawker. It’s a long story but I still have a rather large check to write him.”
She shook her head. “He’ll never take it,” she said.
“He earned it.”
“I’ll go half with you. It was my butt getting rescued.”
Moore nodded.
“Something good better be happening for him,” she said sternly.
“It’s in the works” was all he would say. He ducked out the door.
Danielle turned her attention to the tote bag and examined the selection of clothing. Moore had chosen surprisingly well.
After four days in the hospital, Hawker was getting used to it. He liked pressing the button and asking for new pillows or more ice water or another serving of whatever it was they’d been feeding him. He didn’t know why so many people complained about hospital food. So far he liked it. And besides, it was great to have things brought by.
On her fifteenth trip to his room, the nurse scowled at him.
“What else do you have to do?” he said.
“Plenty,” she said, shoving a bottle of water at him.
“Here,” she added, offering him papers and a clipboard. “You’re being discharged. You’re to meet Mr. Moore in the conference room.”
Five minutes later, Hawker walked past a group of guards that looked like Secret Service agents. He stepped into the room to find McCarter and Danielle. They embraced, reunited at last.
“What’s going on?” Hawker asked.
“President’s coming,” Danielle told him.
“Do we like him?” Hawker asked.
“What do you mean?” McCarter said.
“I’ve been gone for a while. I haven’t voted for anyone since Perot in 2000,” he said.
“Perot didn’t run in 2000,” Danielle said.
“I wrote him in,” Hawker said. “Bush, Gore?” He shook his head and shivered as if the chills had just come over him.
A moment later the door of the conference room opened and a pair of Secret Service agents entered. The president followed, accompanied by Arnold Moore and Byron Stecker.
The three patients stood at this unexpected arrival.
“Sit down,” the president said, as he himself took a seat.
Hawker noticed that Moore’s face seemed to bear some healing abrasions and other wounds and his gait included a pronounced limp. Despite that he seemed a hell of a lot happier than Stecker.
President Henderson offered his thanks, and the thanks of the nation. He explained the story that was being released in bits and pieces.
“We’re telling the world that a joint effort between the United States, Mexico, Russia, and China has averted this catastrophe. Of course, the ranks of the conspiracy theorists are running wild with the occurrence and its perfect coincidence with the Mayan prophecy, but we are reporting that this system was designed eleven years ago, during a solar flare event that had similar, if less pronounced effects, and that it was only a fluke that the event occurred on December twenty-first.”
“I’m guessing that very few are buying that,” McCarter offered.
The president shrugged. “Conspiracy theories are a growth industry. I’m just glad they don’t need a bailout.”
McCarter laughed. “It would be appropriate if we could find a way to credit the Mayan people, their religion. They kept this legend alive for thousands of years. In the face of all they’ve been through since the Europeans reached the Americas, they maintained their beliefs and that was the key.”
The president seemed to make a mental note of this. “No doubt you’re correct,” he said, with great sobriety. “I’ll make sure we discuss it with our counterparts in Mexico.”
Danielle asked the next question. “And what about Saravich? Where is he?”
“He’s been treated and released,” the president said.
“Released to where?” she pressed.
“He’s boarding a British Airways flight to London,” the president said. “From there it’s direct to Moscow.”
“And then what?”
Hawker could hear the concern in her voice, perhaps more plainly than she’d like. But she’d told Hawker the story. Saravich had saved her, and together they had saved him. His brother had saved Yuri from the Russian Science Directorate and then from freezing to death on the Arctic ice. By extension those acts had helped save them all. In both cases the men had violated the directives they’d been charged with. Hawker’s kind of people.
“Don’t worry about him,” the president replied. “Ivan Saravich is a hero of the Russian people. Like the three of you, he is a hero to the world at large. The leaked story will indicate that his guards were killed in the battle with Kang and his army, but that his actions were instrumental in destroying that army, which they were. And if I know anything, I’d guess that Ivan Saravich will become a Russian celebrity of some sort and enjoy a long and honored life.”
Danielle sat back, seeming satisfied and hopeful.
“And what about us?” McCarter asked.
This time Stecker answered. “In your case,” he began, “it’s simple. First, you’ll be sworn to secrecy under the Anti-Espionage Act of 1949. Under the terms of that act—”
“Oh, spare me,” McCarter said, holding up a hand.
“I’ve been down this road before. I get it. I promise you, I have no intention of returning from sabbatical to announce that I’ve been working as a spy, escaping from hired killers, and carrying around a magic stone that saved the world.”
He paused, then added, “Although maybe I should. They’d probably send me on another sabbatical, this time for mental health reasons.”
Hawker almost laughed. The feeling bubbled up within him and he just barely held it back. Without seeing the truth, it was too absurd to believe.
Across the table, even the president smiled. He turned to Stecker. “I’m thinking we can cross that one off the list.”
“And what about Hawker?” Danielle asked, attacking like a good lawyer.
Moore reacted first. And Hawker guessed there were additional considerations, no doubt involving the CIA.
Fine with him. If ever there was a time to fight it out, this was it.
“A deal has been crafted,” Moore said.
Before Hawker could reply, Danielle jumped to his defense. “There’s no need for a deal here. I mean, my God, what could he possibly still owe you?”