“Sir,” cautioned Agent Rohrbach with a hand out to stop the executive as he stepped forward. The massive man reached out gently and touched the woman’s arm.
The woman’s eyes flew open and she hissed at the agent. “He’s dead!” she spat. “Dead! Leave me alone! He’s dead! Dead!”
The President and the agent both stepped back as the woman started to cry. “AID?” the President queried, “can you…”
“The child is not dead, sir,” the device stated definitely. “His vital signs are not even bad. He does, however, appear to have some cranial damage.” The sensors of the suits were better than an MRI at that range. “He is probably unconscious and in a coma. But not dead.”
The crowd was pushing forward again to get a look at what was going on, and the reporters were forcing their way to the fore as Captain Hadcraft arrived. He didn’t even ask a question, just stepped forward with an injector and caught both falling bodies. The mother was handed off to one of the Detail as he cradled the child to his chest and headed back to the tracks.
“Captain?” the President started to ask. The action had been so fast and smooth there had been no time for reaction and the suit was halfway back already.
“I’ll take him to the VA hospital, sir. You get the situation stable.”
The Commander in Chief shook his head and smiled. Having good subordinates was a treasure. The crowd was still pushing forward but there was enough room for a conversation. It would have been better to be up on something to be able to see more people and be seen but this appeared to be as good as it got.
He looked around and caught the eye of one woman who looked composed. “What do you need? Tents? They’re here and more are coming. What else?” His stare was like a laser, daring her not to answer.
She looked startled for a moment then responded. “Food. Most of us have hardly any. And there are already fights over it. And we need more protection. It’s like hell in here.” Her eyes went wide at that and she looked around.
“Okay.” He nodded. “I’m going to do something about that right now. But…” He looked around. He needed to address the crowd but there was no podium or stand or anything. “AID, I need to get higher.”
“There is a way. I can simply lift you up on antigravity. However, it might be viewed negatively.”
The President shook his head. Lifting himself up like Christ would not be a good image. “Well, I can’t damn well stand on anyone’s shoulders.” The suit weighed half a ton and it was fully loaded with ammunition.
“If you wish I can reduce the effective weight of the suit to nearly zero. Then you could stand on Agent Rohrbach’s shoulders. I also can stabilize it so that you don’t fall over.”
“Do it,” the President said, catching Rohrbach’s eye. “You heard?”
“Yep,” said the burly former football player dubiously.
As he felt the weight come off, the President swarmed up on the agent’s shoulders. The Detail surrounded their chief to keep the crowd from jostling him.
He looked around for a moment and decided that the only way to start was a joke. “Hi, I’m from the government and I’m here to help you!”
Some of the crowd looked nonplussed but there was actually a slight chuckle.
“Seriously,” he continued, still amplified but not as loudly as the crowd stopped pushing forward. “Help is on the way. I, personally, am not leaving until it gets here. But you need to help too! There are tents over there that need setting up. I’ll get more soldiers over here to help, but there’s enough of you here that with a little organization you could have had them set up already.
“Food,” he said and stopped. “AID?” The conversation was still amplified.
“Sir?”
“Is there a large mess unit available that can be diverted over here? One that is close?”
“Yes, sir. The primary supply company for the Thirty-Third Division is assembled less than four miles away.”
The President looked out over the crowd. “I’ll get them on the move over here. And other units to the other camps. You have given to your country your whole life and now is when you get some of your own back.
“But you have to help. Work together! Take care of each other! There’s a hospital right over there,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder. “If there’s someone who is injured, help them get there. Let the strong aid the weak until we can rebuild and repair our lives!”
“When can we go home?” a voice floated out of the crowd. There was a rumble of discontent at that.
The President’s face went grim. “I didn’t want most of you to have to leave! So I made the biggest screwup in American history. I am never going to do that again! When forces are assembled and prepared we’ll go home. When all the units are ready. When we are damn well going to kick those Posleen bastards’ asses we will go home!” The cheer that raised was faint-hearted but the best that could be expected under the circumstances. He didn’t bother to mention that most of the homes would probably have been destroyed. Those that did not have mines would be first looted, then demolished by the Posleen as they converted the area to their use.
“I screwed up big time,” the politician admitted. “And as soon as there’s a moment’s peace I am going to submit myself to the Congress for impeachment.”
The shock of that statement was so great that one news cameraman actually dropped his camera and several microphones were dropped.
“But until then, I’m going to hang on. I’m in contact with Generals Horner and Taylor. I don’t know if you know it, but we’ve totally smashed the invasion in the south, using the tactics that were planned on before the landing. General Keeton and Twelfth Corps have done a tremendous job.
“But here in northern Virginia, the battle isn’t over yet. We still have random landings going on and no real force in this area. So I’ll stay here until more support arrives.”
At that the Detail chief on whose shoulders he was standing began to curse quietly and fluently.
“According to plan I was headed to Camp David and then to a defense bunker,” he admitted, shaking his head. “But seeing this, I can see where I’m really needed. Generals Horner and Taylor can run this battle without me joggling their elbow. After we’ve got this area squared away I’ll go to the other camps to make sure they’re okay.”
He looked around the sea of uplifted faces one last time as the mob seemed to drink energy from him. The group was totally mixed. There might have been a few more black faces than others, but there were white men in suits next to black laborers, Hispanics next to Orientals, Hindus shoulder to shoulder with Pakistanis. In the face of the alien horror, little differences like Shiva versus Allah were temporarily forgotten.
And all of them were looking to him for the strength to make it though the bad times. Whatever mistakes he might have made, however bad it had been and would be, he was their President and he was standing by them in need. It was nearly worth a meal.
“Now I’m going to detail my Marines to show you how to get these tents set up and latrines dug. They’ll be getting people to help. Everyone is going to end up with a job. And every job is important. I’ve got to go get some supplies and support headed this way.”
“We are Americans. Black, white, brown or yellow, we are the descendants of survivors! And we have proven again and again that we are the toughest people in the world because of it! Now is the time to prove that!” To the sounds of cheering he jumped down off the Detail chief’s shoulders and shook his head.
“What a screwed-up situation,” he whispered to the agent.