Allen started to speak, then hesitated.
"You were about to say something," said the President.
"That's right," said Allen. "I wondered if I should, but I guess there's no reason that I shouldn't. Perhaps of little significance, but to me intriguing. You remember when that first visitor came down at Lone Pine it landed on a car and crushed it."
"Yes, I do remember. There was no one in it, luckily. We wondered what became of the owner, why he, or she, never came forward."
"Exactly," said Allen. "We hauled in the car, if you recall."
"Yes, I do," said the President.
"Well, now we know. From the license plate. The owner is a young forestry student at the University of Minnesota. His name is Jerry Conklin. A few days after the incident, he came back to Minneapolis. So far as we can learn, he never told anyone about his car being totaled. He has not filed an insurance claim for the loss of the car. For a time, apparently, he acted fairly normally, but now that we have learned who he is, he has disappeared. The FBI is looking for him."
"What do you expect to learn when you find him?" Whiteside asked.
"I don't really know. You have to admit, however, that his reaction has been strange. There must be some reason he told no one what happened. And it's strange that he has not filed an insurance claim. He has not even made an inquiry as to who hauled away his car. I can't get rid of the feeling that he may know something that could be helpful to us."
"When you find him," said the President, "and I suppose you will, go easy on him. From where I sit he's committed no crime except to keep his mouth shut."
41. MINNEAPOLIS
The phone was ringing when Kathy came into her apartment.
She answered it, and then, "Jerry, where are you? You sound excited—or upset. I can't tell which. What is going on?"
"I've been trying to reach you," he said. "I called your apartment and your office. The office told me you were at Lone Pine and I tried Lone Pine. You had already left."
"I just got back," she said. "Just this minute. From the airport. Are you in town? You don't sound as if you're in town. Your voice is faint and there is noise on the line."
"I'm in Iowa. At a place called Dick's Landing. It's on the Mississippi, opposite what is called the Winnishiek Bottoms. You ever heard of that?"
"Not Dick's Landing. The Winnishiek, vaguely. I have heard it mentioned. What in the world.
"Kathy, I went to that farm in Iowa. I talked with 101. It took me in again.
"It remembered you?"
"I think so. We didn't really talk. It told me, it showed me. I got the impression that what it told me is important. But whether it is important to us or to 101 and the other visitors, I can't be sure."
"But Dick's Landing? And the Winnishiek?"
"It told me a location. Showed me where to go. I don't know what's here. Well, actually, I do—I know at least part of it. There's a place called Goose Island. Three of the visitors are there. But I don't know why it's important. I only know it is. That is what 101 impressed upon me. That I must go there. I want you with me, Kathy. If there is something important, you should be in on it from the first. You've been with this visitor Story from the first."
"O.K.," said Kathy, "as fast as I can. I'll start out right now. Give me directions. Tell me how to get to this Dick's Landing. I'll be there in a few hours."
42. MINNEAPOLIS
For days, they had kept their vigil, but now the vigil ended. The group of Lovers who, on the day the visitor had landed on the airstrip, had fought their way onto the field, stood in stricken silence and watched the visitor slowly lift off the runway and sail away into the sky.
"We failed," said one of them, a gaunt young man with stringy hair and an ascetic face.
"We did not fail," said the willowy girl who stood beside him. "It felt our love. I know it felt our love."
"But it made no sign. It did not take us up. It took others up…"
An airport guard, one of the many who manned the barricades that had been thrown around the visitor, said, to no one in particular. "Let's break it up. It's ended now. Why don't you all go home."
"Because we are already home," said the youth with the ascetic face. "The Earth is home. The universe is home."
"I can't understand these kids," said the guard to a fellow guard. "Can you understand them? Christ, they been here for days, just hunkering down with sappy expressions on their faces."
"No," said the other guard. "I don't understand them. I never even tried to."
"Now let's clear out," said the first guard to the band of Lovers. "The show is over, folks. There's nothing left for you."
The crowd began breaking up, slowly drifting off the field.
"They should never have let them in," said the second guard. "It was against all rules. Someone could have gotten killed."
"There wasn't any danger," said the first guard. "The strip was closed. If they hadn't been let in, we'd have had a running fight that might have gone on for days to keep them out of here. The commission thought this was the better way. I'll say this much for the kids; once they were let out here, they behaved themselves. They never caused any trouble."
The second guard said, "They were loving it. They were showing it their love. Did you ever hear such goddamn foolishness?"
The other guard grunted in disgust.
By this time, the visitor was a small speck in the western sky.
In the Tribune newsroom, Gold put the phone back in the cradle. He said to Garrison, "The one on Highway 12 is gone, too. Lifted off and left about the same time as the one at the airport."
"Almost as if there were some sort of signal, telling them to go," said Garrison. "I wonder what they're up to."
"This is the second phase," said Gold.
"What do you mean—the second phase?"
"Well, the first phase was when they came and looked us over. They've finished with that. Now they're doing something else."
"How do you reach that conclusion?"
"I don't know, Johnny. I'm just guessing."
"Maybe they are finished with what they came to do. They may be going into space, forming up again, getting set to go off someplace else. This may be the last we will see of them."
Hal Russell, the wire editor, came shuffling up the room. He stopped at the city desk. "A story just came in on the wires," he said. "They're leaving everywhere. It's not only here."
Garrison said to Gold, "Why don't you phone Lone Pine. Find out what's happening there."
Gold picked up the phone and began dialing.
Garrison asked Russell, "Anything else? Any hints? Any speculation?"
"Nothing," said Russell. "Just that they are leaving. Those that have been around for days are leaving."
"Damn!" said Garrison. "How do you handle such a story? There's a story here. Someone has to dig it out and I'd like it to be us. I know there is a story, but how can it be gotten at?"
"Jay and Kathy," said Russell. "They're the ones who know the most about the visitors. They may have some suggestions."
"Kathy's not here," said Garrison. "She's off on some wild goose chase. Phoned me last night. Said she was onto something that might be big. Wouldn't tell me what it was. Said I'd have to trust her. Al will be pissed off. He practically ordered me to get her back from Lone Pine. And here she's gone again."