“Dispatched, no doubt, by whoever is so determined to stop our search for the Atragon reserves before it gets underway.”
“And probably this same force is controlling the death ray that Atragon may be able to neutralize.”
“Exactly.”
“Fine. But you’re asking the wrong questions. How did this mysterious force learn about your sudden pursuit of Atragon? No, let me rephrase that. Who did you tell about the crystals and when?”
“The crisis committee. Yesterday.”
“Crisis committee, huh?”
Sundowner listed the occupants of the Tomb.
“One of them blew the whistle on you, Sundance. Fucked your plan up big-time and killed a girl I could have loved if she had let me.”
“That can’t be!”
“Wanna bet? Believe me, I’ve been there. The only one I’m ruling out is you because if you were the leak, I’d be dead already.”
Sundowner’s lips quivered. “But what you’re saying, it’s …”
“Welcome to life in the big city.”
The first signs for LaGuardia appeared.
“Then if you agree to cooperate, I should keep it between just the two of us.”
“Don’t bother because too many people already know I’m involved. The mole, whoever he is, will learn soon enough anyway.” Blaine changed his train of thinking. “I gather your operation at that fleabag hotel wasn’t a last-minute setup.”
“It’s our New York field base.”
“The clerk was yours then.”
“Yes.”
“Another mouth that could talk. Don’t hold anything back about me, because as far as you’re concerned I’m not helping. That’s the way it’s gotta be no matter what. See, Sundance, I took this sacred vow. Sort of like celibacy. The government fucked me too much, and I decided never to let them fuck me again. Somebody killed Terry Catherine Hayes, and if that person happens to know where the crystals for your Atragon shield are, that’s fine. But right now the only use for your crystals I can see is ramming them up the ass of whoever ordered her death.”
Another sign passed for LaGuardia Airport.
“Washington, Mr. McCracken?”
“Call me Blaine. Why not? I’ve got nothing better to do this morning.”
Hope Valley was just a sample of the awesome weapon we now possess. The United States of America has until midnight of April 21, three weeks from now, to unilaterally disarm and dismantle all nuclear devices or face annihilation from our death ray.
McCracken read the second communiqué that had come over the Turkish channel after they were en route to Washington by private jet.
“Mean business, don’t they?” was his initial response.
“They seem to.”
“We got any plans to actually capitulate and follow through with the disarming?”
“No.”
“Could it be accomplished in three weeks even if we did?”
“Of course not.”
“Don’t you think the framer of the threat knows that? Don’t you think he’d never actually believe we’d disarm unilaterally under any conditions?”
“Not unless he was very naive. What are you getting at?”
“Something smells here, Sundance. It’s smelled right from the time Hope Valley got zapped and it stunk worst of all when an innocent woman bought it a few hours ago. Why would someone demonstrate a weapon to make us do something we never would anyway?”
“We’ve discussed that.”
“Reach any brilliant conclusions?”
“We’re hoping it means the weapon isn’t deployed yet or perhaps isn’t effective on a wide scale.”
“Hoping isn’t concluding. We’ve got to face the fact that whoever wrote that communiqué blackmailed us without ever believing we’d succumb to his demands. Which means his demonstration in Hope Valley had a different purpose altogether.” Blaine paused. “Who possesses the kind of technology required to build such a beam?”
“Considering the research expense, the list stops at us … and the Soviets.”
“What does the General Secretary say? I assume the President has talked to him.”
“He denied all culpability and even knowledge of such a weapon. Offered to help in any way he could.”
“Mindless rhetoric. Could just as easily be playing it cool to keep us off guard. But at least they’re talking. That ought to delay World War III for a while.”
“We’re at DEF-CON 3 now. Might not delay it for long.”
McCracken stroked his beard. “Assuming my route takes me to your crystals, how much time would I have to deliver them?”
“For reasons I’ll explain in Washington, you’ll have one week.”
“Real generous with time, aren’t you?”
“My estimates indicate that Hope Valley was obliterated in three seconds at most. The precedent’s been set.”
Dawn had come by the time they landed in Washington and proceeded straight to the Bethesda headquarters of the Toy Factory. The Bureau of Scientific Intelligence blended with the countryside of which it was a part. The multiplex of buildings was unfenced, looking as much residential as commercial. McCracken and Sundowner drove through the well-sculptured grounds en route to the entrance.
A pair of marine guards held the door open for Sundowner, with McCracken right behind. Once in the lobby they made for an elevator that descended to the underground floors where the most sensitive experiments were carried out. They exited the elevator four floors later at a stop labeled D and moved straight for a door with yet another guard before it. This time, although the guard recognized Sundowner, the scientist was forced to key in the proper sequence on a pad to gain entry. Blaine entered in Sundowner’s wake and found the two of them to be alone in the lab.
“Welcome to the home of Bugzapper,” said Sundowner.
The lab was dominated by a scale model of the Earth nearly ten feet in diameter with the United States perpetually occupying the very center. Suspended over the stationary U.S., held in the air by wires running from a platform attached to the ceiling, were sixteen miniature satellites which looked to Blaine like fancy fluorescent light bulbs.
“A scale model,” explained Sundowner. “Since the life-size Bugzapper satellites will achieve geosynchronistic orbit, there’s no reason to add rotation.”
He moved to a computer terminal near the globe and, still standing, pressed a few keys. Immediately the miniature fluorescents caught, casting a bright haze over the whole of the scale version of the United States. Blaine noted that the light emanated from all sides of the miniature satellites at once, seeming to link each up with others.
“The light is just for effect,” Sundowner explained. “The real Bugzapper’s energy shield will be invisible.” He moved back alongside Blaine and led him up a set of stairs to a raised platform which looked down over and into the model. “What you’re seeing is being powered by an Atragon crystal the size of a fly’s wing.”
McCracken could hear a faint humming.
Sundowner reached down to a dish placed next to another computer terminal on a table beneath them and grabbed a marble. Handing it to McCracken, he said, “A miniature Atragon shield is thus in place. Toss the marble down into the light and watch what happens.”
Blaine dropped the marble down. There was a brief pfffffft and it was gone.
“By scale,” explained the scientist, “that marble was the size of a huge asteroid. You can see the potency involved here.”
“Except your shield is going to be facing a death ray, not marbles or even asteroids.”
Sundowner nodded as if expecting the comment. “Not really a ray, Mr. McCracken — a beam, specifically a particle beam composed of matter—subatomic in scope, to be sure, but focused into tremendous mass energy by the time it reaches the shield. Easily dense enough to activate the sensing mechanism.”