"That was Whiteside," he said. "He's got a hair up his ass. Seems some of our tracking stations have sighted something new in orbit. According to the general, something so big it scares you. Not one of ours, he says. Most unlikely, too, to be Soviet. Too big for either of us to put up. Neither of us have the booster power to put up anything as big as the trackers spotted. Whiteside's all upset.
"Something out of space?" asked Porter.
"Whiteside didn't say that. But it was what he was thinking. You could tell he was. He was about to come unstuck. He'll be coming over as soon as he can get here."
"Something fell, or landed, I don't know which, in northern Minnesota," said Porter. "It was just beginning to come in on the teletype when you phoned."
"You think the two of them could be tied up?"
"I don't know. It's too early to know what came down in Minnesota. I just caught part of a bulletin. It might be no more than a big meteorite. Anyhow, apparently, something came down out of the sky."
"Jesus, Dave, we have plenty of trouble without something like this happening," said the President.
Porter nodded. "I quite agree, sir."
"How was today's briefing?"
"They roughed me up. Mostly the Black Hills and the energy Situation."
"You doing all right?"
"Sir, I'm doing what I'm paid to do. I am earning my wages.
"Yes," said the President. "I suppose you are. It ain't easy, though."
A knock came on the door, which opened a ways, Grace sticking in her head. "Marcia gave me this," she said, waving a sheet of paper ripped from the teletype.
"Give it to me," said the President. She walked across the room and handed it to him. Quickly he read it and pushed it across the desk to Porter.
"It makes no sense," he complained. "A big black box, it says, sitting on a bridge. A meteorite wouldn't be a black box, would it?"
"Hardly," said Porter. "A meteorite would come in with a hell of a rush. It would dig a monstrous crater."
"So would anything else," said the President. "Anything that fell out of the sky. A decaying satellite
"That is my understanding," said Porter. "They'd come in fast and dig a crater. If they were big, that is."
"This one sounds like it is big."
The two men faced one another across the desk, staring at one another.
"Do you suppose." the President started to say, then stopped in mid-sentence.
The intercom on the President's desk purred and he flipped up the toggle. "What is it, Grace?" he asked.
"It's General Whiteside, sir."
"O.K.," he said. "Put him on."
He lifted the phone and said, out of the side of his mouth, to Porter, "He's heard about the Minnesota business." He spoke into the phone and then sat listening. From where he sat, Porter could catch the buzz and hum of the torrent of words the man at the other end of the line was pouring into the phone.
Finally, the President said, "All right, then. Let's keep our shirts on. Let me know when you have anything more.
He hung up and turned to Porter. "He's buying it," he said. "Someone in the National Guard phoned him from Minnesota. Says the thing came down and landed, that it didn't crash, that it is still there, that it is the size of a good-sized building, all black, like a big box."
"Strange," said Porter. "Everyone is calling it a big box."
"Dave," asked the President, "what do we do if it should turn out to be a visitor out of space?"
"We play it by ear," said Porter. "We handle it as it comes. We don't go running scared."
"We have to get some facts awful fast."
"That's right. The news wires will give us some of them. We ought to send out an investigating team, fast as we can. Get hold of the FBI in Minneapolis."
"The area should be secured," said the President. "We can't have the public piling in, interfering."
He lifted the toggle. "Grace," he said, "get me the governor out in St. Paul."
He looked at Porter. "What I'm afraid of is panic."
Porter glanced at his watch. "The first evening news programs will be hitting TV in another hour or less. Even now, they'll be flashing bulletins. The news will spread fast. I imagine my phones are ringing now. Asking White House reaction, for Christ's sake. They probably know more about it than we do."
"Is Marcia still out there?"
"She was getting ready to leave, but not now. With this, she'll stay on. The woman's a pro."
"We may need some sort of statement."
"Not yet," said Porter. "Not too fast. No shooting ~from the hip. We've got to know more about it.
"Something to give the people," said the President. "Some assurance that we are doing what we can."
"They won't start wondering for a while what we are doing. They'll be all agog over the news itself."
"Maybe a briefing."
"Perhaps," Porter said. "If there is enough to go on before the night is over. No one knows about this new object in orbit, I take it. Only Whiteside and the two of us—and, of course, the trackers. But they won't say anything."
"It'll leak out," said the President. "Given a little time, everything leaks out."
"I'd rather we be the ones to tell them," said Porter. "We don't want to give the impression of any cover-up. That's what the UFO believers have been saying all these years, that the UFO information has been covered up.
"I agree with you," the President said. "Maybe you better call a briefing. Go out and start the ball rolling. Then come back in again. I may have people with me, but barge in when you're ready. There should be more information by that time."
5. LONE PINE
The fish was gone. The rabbit had hopped into the darkness and now was hopping back again, hopping slowly and deliberately, its nose aquiver, a much puzzled rabbit, wondering, perhaps, Jerry told himself, what manner of briar patch it might have ~landed in. The coon was pawing and nuzzling at the floor. The muskrat had disappeared.
Jerry had done some cautious exploring, but never moving so far away as to lose his orientation to the spot on which he had been deposited when he had been jerked into the place. He had found nothing. Approaching some of the strange shapes that had been revealed in the flicker of the lights, the shapes had gone away, receding and flattening into the kevel floor. He had investigated the circular patches that he first had thought of as eyes. He had thought when he had first seen them that they were positioned in walls, but found that they were located in mid-air. He could pass his hand through them and when he did, it seemed to have no effect upon them. They still remained circular luminosities and they still kept on watching him. He had felt nothing when he touched them. They were neither hot nor cold and imparted no sensation.