"So why are we keeping Kathy up at Lone Pine?" asked Lathrop. "If Washington is tight-lipped, what chance does she have?"
"Kathy is one damn fine reporter," said Garrison. "She has as much chance to dig out something as the Washington bureau."
"I think we ought to get her back here," said Lathrop. "With vacations and one thing and another, we are running shorthanded. We could use her here."
"If you wish," said Garrison, grim with a sudden anger.
"If you're still looking for a backgrounder on the visitors," said Gold, "Jay has an idea. He was talking the other day with someone at the university, a man in the native American affairs department. This man was drawing a parallel between us and the visitors and the Indians and the white men when the whites first showed up in America. He said the reason the Indians finally lost out was that their technology was upset by the white man and that, as a result of this, they lost their culture. Their defeat dated from the day when an Indian wanted an iron hatchet, to replace his stone tomahawk, so badly that he was willing to sell his natural resources, to enter into trade arrangements that were unfair to him, to get it."
"A story like that would be oblique propaganda," said Lathrop, "and both Jay and you should know it."
"Jay wasn't about to write it from the Indian view alone," said Gold. "He was going to talk to economists and historians and a lot of other people.
Lathrop shook his head. "With the Black Hills-Indian situation, I think we should keep away from it. No matter how well the story was written, no matter how objectively, we would be accused of bias."
"Oh, well," said Gold, "it was only an idea."
39. IOWA
The river gurgled and lapped against the shore. Dick's Landing, located on a shelf several feet above the river, was made up of several dilapidated buildings. Above the buildings reared the steep heights of the Iowa bluffs. Beyond the river's edge was an island that hemmed in the channel or, rather, one of many channels, for here the Mississippi, spreading out on a wide flood-plain, became a watery jungle. To the east loomed the blueness of the distant bluffs on the Wisconsin side.
Jerry stood on the river bank, watching the progress of the small rowboat powered by a small and sputtering motor. The boat made its doubtful, hesitating way up the channel, bouncing in the roughness of the current. In the back of it crouched a hunched-over man, nursing the balky motor.
Opposite the landing, the man angled the boat in toward shore, finally bringing it in against the shaky dock. When he clambered from the boat and tied it, Jerry saw that he was older than he first had thought. His hair was an unruly iron-gray and his shoulders slightly stooped, but when he moved it was with the sprightly spring of a man much younger.
He came along the walkway of the dock and up the bank. When he came close, Jerry asked, "Are you Jimmy Quinn?"
The man halted in his tracks and looked at him with clear blue eyes, the skin at the corners of them wrinkled and squeezed into intricate crows-feet.
"That I am," he said. "Who's asking?"
"The name is Jerry Conklin. I was told you'd be coming in Soon. I understand you know these bottoms."
"Man and boy I've known the Winnishiek," said Quinn. "A river rat I'm called and I guess that's what I am. These bottoms I have known since the day that I could toddle and a tangled mess they are. Islands and sloughs and lakes and channels, and I know them all for miles up and down the river. I've hunted them and fished and trapped them and I've poked into every corner of them. And what can I do for you?"
"I understand that some of the visitors have landed somewhere
the area, somewhere in these river bottoms."
"Visitors? Visitors? Oh, yes, now I know. I've heard the name.
You mean those big black boxes folks say came out of the sky."
"That's what I mean," said Jerry. "You sound as if you saw one.~~
"Over on Goose Island," said Quinn. "That's the big island, plumb in the center of the river valley, four or five miles downstream from here. Near as I could make out, there are three of them. I don't know if they are still there. Just saw the tops of them, sticking out above the trees. It was getting on toward evening and I didn't linger none. Maybe I wouldn't have even if it hadn't been getting on toward evening. Spooky things they were. Nothing that belonged there. Gives a man shivers up his spine. Didn't rightly know what they were first off. Figured it out later on that they must be these visitors. How come you know? I never told no one. People would have laughed at me. They think I'm crazy, anyhow. To tell the truth, perhaps I am. I've been too long on the river.
"Would you be willing to take me to them?"
"Not now," said Quinn. "Not today. It's getting on close to night. This river's not a place to be at night. With the kind of motor that I have, it's a long way down to Goose. Dark would catch us on the way."
"Tomorrow, then. Or the day after tomorrow, more than likely. There is someone else who will want to go along. It may take me a while to locate this other person and she'll have to drive down from Minneapolis."
"A woman?"
"Yes, a woman.
"What would a woman want with them visitors?"
"She just possibly may know more about them than anyone in
the world today."
"I be damned," said Quinn. "These days you never know what
to expect of a woman. Should I take you down there, would there
be something in it for me?"
"We'd pay you."
"Cash money?"
"Cash money," Jerry told him.
"You expect to get up close to these things? If they still are there. They might have left, you know."
"We would want to get close to them," said Jerry.
"I tell you, mister, I'm not getting up close to them. I'll take you there and I'll wait to take you back. But I'm not getting close to them."
"You won't have to come along with us. You just point them out. That's all you'll have to do. And wait to take us back."
"You let me know when you need me. Generally, I'm on river the most of the day. Come in along toward evening."
"I'll let you know," said Jerry.
40. WASHINGTON, D.C
Allen, the presidential science advisor, said, "This is only a preliminary report. Later on, there'll be more."
"You've found something, then," said the President.
"Something," said Allen. "Yes, something. It's hard to believe. I have a hard time making myself believe it. But the analysis is there. The facts are undeniable. There is no ground to quarrel with them."
"Doctor7" said Whiteside, "you look a little pale around the gills."
"I suspect I do," admitted Allen. "This goes against the grain, against all the knowledge that we have. Those damn things are made up of cellulose."
"Cellulose?" asked the President. "That white, fluffy stuff?"
"When the visitors get through with it, it's no longer white or fluffy." Allen looked around the room. "There are only the four of us. 1vVill there be others arriving?"
"Not this time," said the President. "Later on, when we know more, there may be another briefing with other personnel. This time around, just the four of us. General Whiteside has a special interest and should know what you've found. Dave is here because, by and large, he knows everything I know. At the moment, everything you say here is confidential. I assume your staff is not doing any talking."