Tape! So the bastard had me under surveillance, Isaacs thought. He continued to speak to Drefke. “If you recorded that session in his limousine then you know that whole crazy episode was Zamyatin’s idea.”
“The recordings are incomplete for technical reasons,” McMasters purred, “but there was enough to show your perfidy. You failed to report the contact. There is nothing to suggest you were not a willing accomplice in this conspiracy. We have only your word for that.”
“But you have my word,” Isaacs shot the oath at McMasters, looking directly at him for the first time. McMasters stiffened, but could not summon the strength of mind to voice a contradiction.
Isaacs used the opening.
“Sir,” he addressed Drefke, “you said yourself the meeting with Zamyatin was an absurd way to sell out. Surely it’s obvious that if I were really cooperating with the Soviets, I wouldn’t do so in so stupid a fashion?”
Drefke gave a small nod. He didn’t understand, but he knew that if a man like Isaacs turned, he would be damned difficult to catch. He certainly would not be hitching rides with the local KGB to exchange tidbits.
Isaacs continued, “I won’t deny that my actions precipitated the meeting, but it was all Zamyatin’s idea. He didn’t think I could or would respond through official channels. Whether he thought or cared that I would be in hot water if he snatched me off the street, I don’t know.
“If you will hear me out, I would like to try to explain. You recognize that my recent behavior is not only at odds with Agency policy, but also with my own record and methods. We are all involved in some very odd circumstances. These peculiar circumstances have forced me to extreme lengths. I think the peril was confirmed two days ago in Nagasaki, but we still don’t understand—that’s the major problem.”
“Ah, Nagasaki,” Drefke leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps you can tell me what the hell went on there.”
“I can tell you the background. The details are in this memo.”
Isaacs extracted an envelope from his pocket and pushed it across the desk to Drefke.
“Mr. McMasters has a previous version of it.”
“Oh? I wasn’t informed of that.”
“In my considered opinion,” McMasters said uncomfortably, “Mr. Isaacs has constructed a tissue of fantasy. What little merit there was to the case was not Agency business. I did not and do not believe there was any rationale to violate Agency regulations in the manner summarized there.” He nodded at the file on Drefke’s desk.
“I see,” said Drefke. He didn’t, but he was beginning to.
“Mr. Isaacs, may I ask why you did not proceed according to regulation if you had some concern?”
Isaacs looked him squarely in the eye.
“I was ordered not to.”
“By McMasters here.”
“That’s correct.”
“His request was ill-considered and inappropriate to the function of the Agency,” McMasters said stiffly.
“Mr. McMasters is your superior,” Drefke said to Isaacs.
“Yes, sir.”
“You not only disobeyed him; you violated a number of Agency regulations to do so.”
McMasters relaxed a little. Precisely so, he thought.
Drefke regarded the two men before him, sensing the tension between them. McMasters ran a tight ship on internal affairs. That freed Drefke to concern himself with the large issues. Isaacs had risen rapidly with an excellent record. Two such men could come to legitimate disagreement on occasion. In this business, McMasters was acting true to form, but Isaacs’ behavior had been bizarre, completely out of character. Was Isaacs’ aberrant behavior to be stopped short and penalized for the greater good of a smooth-functioning Agency, or did he actually see something that McMasters, the narrow-minded authoritarian, couldn’t perceive? If McMasters were right, Isaacs was a damnable nuisance. If Isaacs were right?
“You were going to tell me about Nagasaki,” Drefke said to Isaacs. McMasters shifted uncomfortably.
“This all goes back to the Soviet carrier, the Novorossiisk,” Isaacs said.
“The Novorossiisk?”
“That’s right. You know what followed from that. An escalating conflict in space.”
“If you’re implying all that has been Agency business, I’m quite aware of the fact, thank you,” said Drefke drily.
“But you don’t know what happened to the Novorossiisk. What started it all.”
“No,” Drefke said slowly. “But does it matter now?”
“It matters for two reasons. An understanding of the origin of these affairs may help put a cap on them. And what happened to the Novorossiisk may be the greater question.”
“Greater than nuclear or beam warfare in space?” Drefke asked incredulously.
“Ridiculous,” McMasters said, backing him up.
“I have no proof yet, but I’m sure Nagasaki and the Novorossiisk are closely linked. Nagasaki is another clue to the ultimate problem. The current danger is the unknown. The Soviets feel that, too. They don’t know what happened to the Novorossiisk either.”
“Why did Zamyatin pick on you anyway?”
Isaacs paused. This could be crucial, if it weren’t already on the tapes.
“I wrote a letter to Academician Korolev,” Isaacs said, “describing my fears about the Novorossiisk.”
“You what?” Drefke almost shouted.
“Oh, for god’s sake,” McMasters blurted simultaneously.
“You’ve got to see we’re on the same side on this one,” Isaacs protested.
“But you can’t go discussing Agency affairs with the top brains in the Kremlin!” Drefke said, exasperated.
“According to Mr. McMasters, this wasn’t an Agency affair,” Isaacs said.
“Well, any security matter then,” Drefke said, but he calmed down, granting Isaacs the point.
“I felt something had to be done,” Isaacs persisted. “I sent a memo to Korolev similar to the one I gave Mr. McMasters, outlining the series of circumstances that led to my concern. Zamyatin saw that letter. I told you they’re still worried about the Novorossiisk. That’s what we talked about.”
“You talked about the Cosmos 2231 and our nuclear deterrent,” McMasters said meanly.
“Only briefly, and in a completely different context from what you’d like to believe,” Isaacs snapped. He turned to Drefke.
“Korolev has used my letter to argue that we did not initiate the Novorossiisk business. Zamyatin told me that my letter convinced the Soviets to keep a cap on the confrontation over the Cosmos. That’s all we said about it. And Zamyatin did most of the talking.”
“So they’re worried,” Drefke said.
“Yes, they are.”
“You still haven’t told me what exactly happened at Nagasaki.”
“Pat Danielson assembled a variety of data that have shown that some force or influence is moving through the Earth in a very regular way. I think that influence damaged the Novorossiisk, sank the USS Stinson that was sent by the Navy to investigate the phenomenon, and did the damage in Nagasaki.”
Drefke started to speak, but Isaacs continued intensely.
“We don’t know what’s going on; that’s what frightens me. That’s what has caused me to do all these things you think are so crazy. But this thing is dangerous. It’s real. It’s predictable. Pat Danielson predicted where and when there would be damage in Nagasaki. She has predicted a similar fate for Dallas in a little over two weeks. This thing, whatever it is, will keep on causing death and destruction until we determine what it is!”
Isaacs leaned back, spent.
Drefke tried to absorb this diatribe. He didn’t understand at all. But Isaacs was either sincere and committed, or he was insane. Could his insanity be contagious, caught by the Russians? What the hell was going on? Was this a good man gone around the bend? Or was here an issue of great magnitude on which he could truly serve his President? He would have loved to kick the whole thing to McMasters, but he perceived that, in ways he did not yet fully comprehend, McMasters was part of the problem. Besides, the involvement of the Russians smacked of truly global issues, not simple internal bickering. The only good decision now was no decision.