"I don't think I've ever met him. I read him. He is sound."
"Hale heard that the Russians would push for the international dropping of nuclear weapons on the areas where the monsters might be."
"I had expected something of this sort," said the President. "They'd never be able to pull it off."
"I think it's academic now, anyhow," said Wilson. "These just came in." He laid the photos on the desk. "Bentley Price took the shot."
"Price," said the President. "Is he the one…"
"He's the one all the stories are about. Drunk a good part of the time, but a top-notch photographer. The best there is."
The President studied the top photo, frowning. "Steve, I'm not sure I understand this."
"There's a story that goes with it, sir. It goes like this…"
The President listened closely, not interrupting. When Wilson finished, he asked. "You really think that's the explanation, Steve?"
"I'm inclined to think so, sir. So does Gale. He said we should talk with Wolfe. But there was no question in Gale's mind. All we have to do is keep pushing them. Push enough of them into the past and the rest will go. If there were more of them, if we had as few weapons as the people of five hundred years from now had when they first reached Earth, they probably would try to stay on here. We'd offer plenty of fighting, be worthy antagonists. But I think they may know when they are licked. Going back to the Cretaceous, they'll still have worthy opponents. Formidable ones. Tyrannosaurus rex and all his relatives. The Triceratops. The coelurosaurs. The hunting dinosaurs. Hand-to-hand combat, face-to-face. They might like that better than what humans have to offer. More glory in it for them."
The President sat thoughtfully silent. Then he said, "As I recollect, the scientists have never figured out what killed off the dinosaurs. Maybe now we know."
"That could be," said Wilson.
The President reached for the callbox, then pulled back his hand.
"No," he said. "Fyodor Morozov is a decent sort of man. What he did this morning was in the line of duty, on orders that he had to carry out. No use to phone him, to point it out to him. He'll find out when the picture hits the street. So will the people up at the UN. I'd like to see their faces. I'd say it spikes their guns."
"I would say so, sir," said Wilson. "I'll take no more of your time…"
"Stay for a minute, Steve. There's something you should know. A sort of precautionary knowledge. The question may come up and you should know how to field it. No more than half a dozen of our men know this and they won't talk. Neither will the future people. It's top secret, unofficially top secret. There is no record. State doesn't know. Defense doesn't know."
"I wonder, sir, if I should…"
"I want you to know," said the President. "Once you hear it you are bound by the same secrecy as the others. You've heard of the Clinton Chapman proposal?"
"1 have heard of it. I don't like it. The question came up this morning and I refused comment. Said it was only rumor and I had no knowledge of it."
"Neither do I like it," said the President. "But so far as I am concerned, he's going to be encouraged to go ahead. He thinks he can buy time travel; he thinks he has it in his hand; he can fairly taste it. I have never seen a more obvious case of naked greed. I'm not too sure his great, good friend Reilly Douglas may not have a touch of that same greed."
"But if it's greed…"
"It's greed, all right," said the President. "But I know something that he doesn't know and if I can manage it, he won't know it until it's too late to do him any good. And that is this: What the future people used was not time travel as we think of it; it is something else. It serves the same purpose, but it's not time travel as traditionally conceived. I don't know if I can explain this too well, but it seems there is another universe, coexistent with ours. The people of the future know it's there, but there is only one thing they really know about it. That is that the direction of time's flow in the second universe is exactly the opposite of ours. Its future flows toward our past. The people of the future traveled into their past by hooking onto the future flow of this other universe…"
"But that means…"
"Exactly," said the President. "It means that you can go into the past, but you can't come back. You can travel pastward, but not futureward."
"If Chapman knew this, the deal would be off."
"I suppose it would be. He's not proposing to build the tunnels from patriotic motives. Do you think badly of me, Steve, for my deception — my calculated dishonesty?"
"I'd think badly of you, sir, if there really were a chance for Chapman to do what he means to do and you did not stop him. This way, however, the world gets help and the only ones who are hurt are men who, for once, overreached themselves. No one will feel sorry for them."
"Someday," said the President, "it will be known. Someday my dishonesty will catch up with me."
"When it does," said Wilson, "and sometime, of course, it will, a great guffaw will go around the world. You'll be famous, sir. They'll build statues of you."
The President smiled. "I hope so, Steve. I feel a little sneaky."
"One thing, sir," said Wilson. "Just how tight is this secret of yours?"
"I feel it's solid," said the President. "The people you brought up from Myer told our National Academy people — only three of them. They reported back to me. The future scientists and the men who talked with them. To me alone. By this time, I had gotten wind of Chapman's deal and I asked them to say nothing. Only a few of the future scientists worked on the project that sent the people back; only a handful of them know what actually is involved. And as it happens, they all are here. Something like the diamonds. They all are here because they felt we were the one nation they could trust. The word has been passed along at Myer. The future scientists won't talk. Neither will our men"
Wilson nodded. "It sounds all right. You mentioned the diamonds. What became of them?"
"We have accepted temporary custody. They are locked away. Later, after all of this is over, we'll see what can be done with them. Probably rather discreet sales of them, with a suitable cover story provided. A few at a time. With the money put in escrow for later distribution to the other nations."
Wilson rose and moved toward the door. Halfway there, he stopped and turned. "I'd say, Mr. President, that it's going very well."
"Yes," said the President. "After a bad start, it is going well. There's still a lot to do, but we are on the way."
Someone was at Judy's desk when Wilson returned. The room was dark. There were only the flashing lights on the console and they were not being answered.
"Judy?" asked Wilson hesitantly. "Judy, is that you?" Knowing that it couldn't be, for by now she was probably landing in Ohio.
"I came back," said Judy. "I got on the plane and then got off again. I sat at the airport for hours, wondering what to do. You are a son of a bitch, Steve Wilson, and you know you are. I don't know why I got off the plane. Getting off, I don't know why I came here."
He strode across the room and stood beside her.
"You never asked me to stay. You never really asked me."
"But I did. I asked you."
"You were noble about it. That's the trouble with you. Noble. You never got down on your knees and begged me. And now my baggage is headed for Ohio and I…"
He reached down and lifted her from the chair, held her close.
"It's been a rough two days," he said. "It's time for the two of us to be going home."