He sighed. Nobody’d asked his opinion. Somebody should have. If he didn’t know about the Race, who did? He sighed again. Whoever’d been in charge of that project had decided secrecy was a better way to go. Secrecy so blatant it put everybody’s backs up, Lizards and Nazis and Reds? Evidently. It made no sense to Sam.
Still chewing on it-he wasn’t particularly quick-witted, but was as stubborn a man as was ever born (if eighteen years in the low and middle minors didn’t prove that, what would?)-he walked past the Arkansas State Capitol and on toward what newspapers called the White House, even if it was built of golden local sandstone. President Warren hadn’t given him any details about why he’d been ordered out of California. If it didn’t turn out to have something to do with the Lizards, though, he’d be surprised.
The president wants to know what I think, Sam thought. But some damnfool general doesn’t care. He wondered if he could get Curtis LeMay and whoever LeMay’s boss was in trouble. He rather hoped so.
At President Warren’s official residence, a guard checked his ID and passed him on to a secretary. The secretary said, “The president’s running a few minutes late. Why don’t you just sit down here and make yourself comfortable? He’ll see you as soon as he’s free, Major.”
“All right,” Sam said-he could hardly say no. A few minutes turned into three-quarters of an hour. He would have been more annoyed if he’d been more surprised.
In due course, the flunky did escort him into the president’s office. “Hello, Major,” Earl Warren said as they shook hands. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”
“It’s all right, sir,” Yeager answered. He’d long since learned not to pick fights where it couldn’t do him any good.
“Sit down, sit down,” Warren said. “Would you like coffee or tea?” After Sam shook his head, the president went on, “I suppose you’re wondering why I asked you to hop on an airplane and pay me a call.”
“Well, yes, sir, a little bit,” Yeager agreed. “I suppose it has to do with settling the Lizards’ feathers after the Lewis and Clark got moving, though.”
“As a matter of fact, it doesn’t,” the president said. “It hasn’t got a single, solitary thing to do with that. From what I hear, you kept looking in that direction till you got your ears pinned back for you.”
“Uh, yes, Mr. President.” Sam had kept looking in that direction after he’d got his ears pinned back, too. President Warren didn’t seem to know that. A good thing, too, Sam thought. No, he wouldn’t get LeMay into hot water. He was lucky not to be in hot water himself.
“All right, then. We’ll say no more about it.” Warren sounded like the prosecutor he’d once been letting some petty criminal off with a warning because taking him to court would be more trouble than it was worth. “Now, then: are you even the least bit curious why I did ask you to come back East?”
Presidents didn’t ask; they ordered. But Sam could only answer, “Yes, sir. I sure am.” And that was the truth. He was even more curious now than he had been before. While he was coming out from California, he’d thought he knew what Warren had on his mind. Discovering he’d been wrong piqued his curiosity.
“Okay. I can take care of that.” Warren flicked the switch on an intercom, then bent low to speak into it: “Willy, would you bring the crate in, please?”
“Yes, sir,” answered someone on the other end of the line. The crate? Sam wondered. He didn’t ask. He simply waited, as he’d sat in the dugout and waited out any number of rain delays.
A side door to President Warren’s office opened. In came a blocky little man-Willy? — pushing what looked like a metal box on wheels. An electric cord trailed after it. As soon as the fellow stopped, he plugged the cord into the nearest outlet. At that point, Sam’s curiosity got the better of him. “Mr. President, what the he-uh, heck-is that thing?”
Warren smiled. Instead of answering directly, he turned to the man who’d brought in the box. “Open the lid.” As the assistant obeyed, Warren gestured to Sam. “Go on over and have a look.”
“I sure will.” When Yeager stepped up and peered into the box, he had to blink because he was looking at a couple of bare lightbulbs that put out a good deal of light and heat. They illuminated a pair of large eggs with speckled yellow shells. Sam looked back at the president. “It’s an incubator.”
“That’s right.” Earl Warren nodded.
Sam started to ask a question, then stopped. His mouth fell open. He came closer to losing his upper plate in public than he had for many years. Only one kind of egg could account for his being summoned from Los Angeles to Little Rock. “Those… came from a Lizard, didn’t they?” he asked hoarsely.
President Warren nodded again. “That’s right,” he repeated.
“My God.” Yeager stared at the eggs. “How did we ever manage to get our hands on them?”
“How doesn’t concern you,” the president said crisply. “I am only going to tell you that once, and you had better get it through your head. It is none of your business. I hope you’ve learned your lesson about things that are none of your business.” He gave Sam a severe look.
“Yes, sir.” Sam wasn’t looking at the president as he spoke. His eyes kept going back to those incredible, sand-colored…
“All right,” Warren said. “How would you like to take those eggs back to California with you and raise the babies when they hatch? Raise them up like people, I mean, or as much like people as you can. Finding out just how much alike we and the Lizards are and how and where we differ will be very important as time passes, don’t you think?”
“Yes, sir!” Sam said-no polite acquiescence now but hearty, delighted agreement. “And thank you, sir! Thank you from the bottom of my heart!”
“You’re welcome, Lieutenant Colonel Yeager,” President Warren said, chuckling at his enthusiasm.
“Lieut-” Yeager stared, then snapped to attention and saluted. “Thank you again, sir!” He felt like turning handsprings. He hadn’t thought he’d ever see the oak leaves on his shoulder straps go from gold to silver. For somebody who’d started out as a thirty-five-year-old buck private, he’d turned out to have a pretty fair career.
“And you’re welcome again,” Warren answered. “You’ve done very well for us, and now you’re taking on another assignment that won’t be easy. You deserve this promotion, and I’m pleased to be able to give it to you. As a matter of fact…” He reached into a desk drawer and took out a jewelry box. “Here are your new insignia.”
Sam wondered how many lieutenant colonels had got their rank badges from the hand of the president of the United States. Not a whole lot, or else he was Babe Ruth. He paused, bemused. When it came to Lizards, he pretty much was Babe Ruth. His eyes slid back to the incubator. “How long till those eggs hatch, sir?”
Willy answered for President Warren: “We think about three weeks, Lieutenant Colonel, but we might be off ten days or so either way.”
“Okay.” Yeager knew a different sort of bemusement. “It’ll feel funny, being a new father again at my age.” President Warren and Willy both laughed. Then something else occurred to Sam. “Lord! I wonder what Barbara’s going to think of becoming a new mother again.” That was liable to be more interesting than he cared for.