DECEPTION Point DAN BROWN THE GLOBAL PHENOMENON
DAN BROWN
DAN BROWN DECEPTION Point
is the bestselling author of Digital Fortress, Deception Point, Angels & Demons, The Da Vinci Code, The Lost Symbol, Inferno, Origin and The Secret of Secrets
Three of his Robert Langdon novels have been adapted for the screen by Ron Howard, starring Tom Hanks. They have all been international blockbusters.
is one of the world’s bestselling authors. He first introduced the world to Harvard symbologist Robert Langdon in Angels & Demons. Since then Langdon has gone on to conquer the globe in four further best selling adventures: The Da Vinci Code, The Lost Symbol, Inferno and most recently, Origin. Director
is one of the world’s bestselling authors. He first introduced the world to Harvard symbologist Robert Langdon in Angels & Demons. Since then Langdon has gone on to conquer the globe in four further bestselling adventures: The Da Vinci Code, The Lost Symbol, Inferno and, most recently, Origin. Director
Ron Howard adapted three of Brown’s Langdon novels into films starring Tom Hanks. Dan Brown is also the author of the international bestsellers Deception Point and Digital Fortress. He lives in New England with his wife.
Ron Howard adapted three of Brown’s Langdon novels into films starring Tom Hanks. Dan Brown is also the author of the international bestsellers Digital Fortress and Deception Point. He lives in New England with his wife.
Dan Brown is a graduate of Amherst College and Phillips Exeter Academy, where he has taught English and Creative Writing. He lives in New England.
www.danbrown.com
www.danbrownofficial.co.uk
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BY DAN BROWN Digital Fortress
An impossibly complex code threatens to obliterate the balance of world power forever . . .
‘Fascinating’
Washington Post
Deception Point
An apparently miraculous scientific discovery might change the future of the planet if its truth is revealed . . .
‘Thundering’
Chicago Tribune
THE ROBERT LANGDON NOVELS
Angels & Demons
ROME: An ancient secret brotherhood arises once more to launch a devastating new weapon against an unthinkable target . . .
‘Heart-racing’
San Francisco Chronicle
The Da Vinci Code
PARIS: A quest almost as old as time itself for an object thought lost forever becomes a deadly race against the clock . . .
‘Blockbuster perfection’
New York Times
The Lost Symbol
The kidnapping of a friend will lead Langdon into the shadowy world of freemasonry and a hell-for-leather chase across Washington DC.
‘So compelling that several times I came close to cardiac arrest . . . As perfectly constructed as the Washington architecture it escorts us around’
Sunday Express
Inferno
Robert Langdon races against time to try to save the world from a terrifying threat, armed only with a few lines from Dante’s Inferno to help him.
‘Jam-packed with tricks . . . A book-length scavenger hunt that Mr Brown creates so energetically’
New York Times
Origin
Langdon must follow a trail marked only by enigmatic symbols and elusive modern art to discover the truth about an astonishing scientific breakthrough, and come face-to-face with a breathtaking truth that has remained buried – until now.
’Fans will not be disappointed’ The Times
The Secret of Secrets
Robert Langdon must unlock the secrets of one of Europe’s oldest cities to save the woman he loves . . .
ACCLAIM FOR DAN BROWN’S NOVELS
‘Wow . . . Blockbuster perfection . . . An exhilaratingly brainy thriller. Not since the advent of Harry Potter has an author so flagrantly delighted in leading readers on a breathless chase’
New York Times
‘Adroitly blends the chase-scene stuffed thrillers of Robert Ludlum and the learned romps of Umberto Eco . . . For anyone who wants more brain-food than thrillers normally provide’
Sunday Times
‘Exceedingly clever . . . Both fascinating and fun . . . a considerable achievement’
Washington Post
‘A gripping bestseller . . . Brown has cracked the bestseller code’
Guardian
‘Robert Langdon remains a terrific hero, a bookish intellectual who’s cool in a crisis and quick on his feet . . . The codes are intriguing, the settings present often-seen locales in a fresh light, and Brown keeps the pages turning’
Entertainment Weekly
‘Dan Brown is the master of the intellectual cliffhanger’ Wall Street Journal
‘As engaging a hero as you could wish for’
Mail on Sunday
DAN BROWN DECEPTION Point
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First published in Great Britain in 2002 by Corgi an imprint of Transworld Publishers
Corgi edition reissued 2009
Corgi edition reissued 2025 001
Copyright © Dan Brown 2001
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
WithwarmthankstoJasonKaufmanforhissuperb guidanceandinsightfuleditorialskills;BlytheBrown forhertirelessresearchandcreativeinput;BillScottKerrforhisenthusiasmformyworkandfornavigating itsoexpertlyacrosstheAtlantic;mygoodfriendJake Elwellat Wieser &Wieser;theNationalSecurity Archive;theNASAPublicAffairsOffice;StanPlanton, whocontinuestobeasourceforinformationonall things;theNationalSecurityAgency;glaciologist MartinO.Jeffries;andthesuperbmindsofBrett Trotter,ThomasD.Nadeau,andJimBarrington. ThanksalsotoConnieandDickBrown,theU.S. IntelligencePolicyDocumentationProject,Suzanne O’Neill,MargieWachtel,MoreyStettner,OwenKing, AlisonMcKinnell,MaryandStephenGorman,DrKarl Singer,DrMichaelI.LatzofScrippsInstituteof Oceanography, April atMicronElectronics,Esther Sung,theNationalAirandSpaceMuseum,DrGene Allmendinger,theincomparableHeideLangeat SanfordJ.GreenburgerAssociates,andJohnPikeatthe FederationofAmericanScientists.
AUTHOR’SNOTE
TheDeltaForce,theNationalReconnaissance Office,andtheSpaceFrontierFoundationarereal organizations.Alltechnologiesdescribedinthis novelexist.
Ifthisdiscoveryisconfirmed,itwillsurelybeone ofthemoststunninginsightsintoouruniversethat sciencehaseveruncovered.Itsimplicationsareasfarreachingandawe-inspiringascanbeimagined.Evenas itpromisesanswerstosomeofouroldestquestions,it posesstillothersevenmorefundamental.
PresidentBillClinton,inapressconference followingadiscoveryknownasALH84001 onAugust7,1996
PROLOGUE
Death,inthisforsakenplace,couldcomeincountlessforms.GeologistCharlesBrophyhadenduredthe savagesplendorofthisterrainforyears,andyet nothingcouldpreparehimforafateasbarbarousand unnaturalastheoneabouttobefallhim.
AsBrophy’sfourhuskiespulledhissledofgeologic sensingequipmentacrossthetundra,thedogssuddenlyslowed,lookingskyward.
‘Whatisit,girls?’Brophyasked,steppingoffthesled.
Beyondthegatheringstormclouds,atwin-rotor transporthelicopterarchedinlow,huggingtheglacial peakswithmilitarydexterity.
That’sodd,hethought.Heneversawhelicoptersthis farnorth.Theaircraftlandedfiftyyardsaway,kicking upastingingsprayofgranulatedsnow.Hisdogs whined,lookingwary.
Whenthechopperdoorsslidopen,twomen descended.Theyweredressedinfull-weatherwhites, armedwithrifles,andmovedtowardBrophywith urgentintent.
‘DrBrophy?’onecalled.
Thegeologistwasbaffled.‘Howdidyouknowmy name?Whoareyou?’
‘Takeoutyourradio,please.’ ‘I’msorry?’
‘Justdoit.’
Bewildered,Brophypulledhisradiofromhisparka.
‘Weneedyoutotransmitanemergencycommuniqué.Decreaseyourradiofrequencytoone hundredkilohertz.’
Onehundredkilohertz? Brophyfeltutterlylost. Nobody canreceiveanythingthatlow .‘Hastherebeenanaccident?’
Thesecondmanraisedhisrifleandpointedit atBrophy’shead.‘There’snotimetoexplain.Justdo it.’XX
Trembling,Brophyadjustedhistransmission frequency.
Thefirstmannowhandedhimanotecardwitha fewlinestypedonit.‘Transmitthismessage.Now.’
Brophylookedatthecard.‘Idon’tunderstand.This informationisincorrect.Ididn’t—’
Themanpressedhisriflehardagainstthegeologist’s temple.
Brophy’svoicewasshakingashetransmittedthe bizarremessage.
‘Good,’thefirstmansaid.‘Nowgetyourselfand yourdogsintothechopper.’
Atgunpoint,Brophymaneuveredhisreluctantdogs andsledupaskidrampintothecargobay.Assoonas theyweresettled,thechopperliftedoff,turningwestward.
‘Whothehellareyou?’Brophydemanded,breaking asweatinsidehisparka. Andwhatwasthemeaningofthat message?
Themensaidnothing.
Asthechoppergainedaltitude,thewindtore
throughtheopendoor.Brophy’sfourhuskies,still riggedtotheloadedsled,werewhimperingnow.
‘Atleastclosethedoor,’Brophydemanded.‘Can’t youseemydogsarefrightened!’ Themendidnotrespond.
Asthechopperroseto4,000feet,itbankedsteeply outoveraseriesoficechasmsandcrevasses.Suddenly, themenstood.Withoutaword,theygrippedthe heavilyladensledandpusheditouttheopendoor. Brophywatchedinhorrorashisdogsscrambledinvain againsttheenormousweight.Inaninstanttheanimals disappeared,draggedhowlingoutofthechopper.
Brophywasalreadyonhisfeetscreamingwhenthe mengrabbedhim.Theyhauledhimtothedoor.Numb withfear,Brophyswunghisfists,tryingtofendoffthe powerfulhandspushinghimoutward.
Itwasnouse.Momentslaterhewastumbling towardthechasmsbelow.
ToulosRestaurant,adjacenttoCapitolHill,boasts apoliticallyincorrectmenuofbabyvealandhorse carpaccio,makingitanironichotspotforthequintessentialWashingtonianpowerbreakfast.This morningTouloswasbusy–acacophonyofclanking silverware,espressomachines,andcellphoneconversations.
Themaitred’wassneakingasipofhismorning BloodyMarywhenthewomanentered.Heturned withapracticedsmile.
‘Goodmorning,’hesaid.‘MayIhelpyou?’
Thewomanwasattractive,inhermid-thirties,wearinggray,pleatedflannelpants,conservativeflats,and anivoryLauraAshleyblouse.Herposturewasstraight –chinraisedeversoslightly–notarrogant,juststrong.
Thewoman’shairwaslightbrownandfashionedin Washington’smostpopularstyle–the‘anchorwoman’ –alushfeathering,curledunderattheshoulders... longenoughtobesexy,butshortenoughtoremind youshewasprobablysmarterthanyou.
‘I’malittlelate,’thewomansaid,hervoiceunassuming.‘IhaveabreakfastmeetingwithSenator Sexton.’
Themaitred’feltanunexpectedtingleofnerves. SenatorSedgewickSexton.Thesenatorwasaregular hereandcurrentlyoneofthecountry’smostfamous men.Lastweek,havingsweptalltwelveRepublican primariesonSuperTuesday,thesenatorwasvirtually guaranteedhisparty’snominationforPresidentofthe UnitedStates.Manybelievedthesenatorhadasuperb chanceofstealingtheWhiteHousefromtheembattled Presidentnextfall.LatelySexton’sfaceseemedto beoneverynationalmagazine,hiscampaignslogan plasteredallacrossAmerica:‘Stopspending.Start mending.’
‘SenatorSextonisinhisbooth,’themaitred’said. ‘Andyouare?’
‘RachelSexton.Hisdaughter.’
Howfoolishofme ,hethought.Theresemblance wasquiteapparent.Thewomanhadthesenator’s penetratingeyesandrefinedcarriage–thatpolishedair ofresilientnobility.Clearlythesenator’sclassicgood lookshadnotskippedgenerations,althoughRachel Sextonseemedtocarryherblessingswithagraceand humilityherfathercouldlearnfrom.
‘Apleasuretohaveyou,MsSexton.’
Asthemaitred’ledthesenator’sdaughteracrossthe diningarea,hewasembarrassedbythegauntletof maleeyesfollowingher...somediscreet,othersless so.FewwomendinedatToulosandevenfewerwho lookedlikeRachelSexton.
‘Nicebody,’onedinerwhispered.‘Sextonalready findhimselfanewwife?’
‘That’shisdaughter,youidiot,’anotherreplied. Themanchuckled.‘KnowingSexton,he’dprobably screwheranyway.’
WhenRachelarrivedatherfather’stable,thesenator wasonhiscellphonetalkingloudlyaboutoneofhis recentsuccesses.HeglancedupatRachelonlylong enoughtotaphisCartierandremindhershewaslate. Imissedyou,too ,Rachelthought.
Herfather’sfirstnamewasThomas,althoughhe’d adoptedhismiddlenamelongago.Rachelsuspected itwasbecausehelikedthealliteration.Senator SedgewickSexton.Themanwasasilver-haired,silvertonguedpoliticalanimalwhohadbeenanointedwith theslicklookofasoapoperadoctor,whichseemed appropriateconsideringhistalentsofimpersonation.
‘Rachel!’Herfatherclickedoffhisphoneandstood tokisshercheek.
‘Hi,Dad.’Shedidnotkisshimback. ‘Youlookexhausted.’
Andsoitbegins,shethought.‘Igotyourmessage. What’sup?’
‘Ican’taskmydaughteroutforbreakfast?’ Rachelhadlearnedlongagoherfatherseldom requestedhercompanyunlesshehadsomeulterior motive.
Sextontookasipofcoffee.‘So,howarethingswith you?’
‘Busy.Iseeyourcampaign’sgoingwell.’
‘Oh,let’snottalkbusiness.’Sextonleanedacrossthe table,loweringhisvoice.‘How’sthatguyattheState DepartmentIsetyouupwith?’
Rachelexhaled,alreadyfightingtheurgetocheck herwatch.‘Dad,Ireallyhaven’thadtimetocallhim. AndIwishyou’dstoptryingto—’
‘You’vegottomaketimefortheimportantthings, Rachel.Withoutlove,everythingelseismeaningless.’
Anumberofcomebackscametomind,butRachel
chosesilence.Beingthebiggerpersonwasnotdifficult whenitcametoherfather.‘Dad,youwantedtosee me?Yousaidthiswasimportant.’
‘Itis.’Herfather’seyesstudiedherclosely.
Rachelfeltpartofherdefensesmeltawayunderhis gaze,andshecursedtheman’spower.Thesenator’s eyeswerehisgift–agiftRachelsuspectedwould probablycarryhimtotheWhiteHouse.Oncue,his eyeswouldwellwithtears,andthen,aninstantlater, theywouldclear,openingawindowtoanimpassioned soul,extendingabondoftrusttoall. It’sallabouttrust, herfatheralwayssaid.ThesenatorhadlostRachel’s yearsago,buthewasquicklygainingthecountry’s.
‘Ihaveapropositionforyou,’SenatorSextonsaid.
‘Letmeguess,’Rachelreplied,attemptingtorefortify herposition.‘Someprominentdivorcélookingfora youngwife?’
‘Don’tkidyourself,honey.You’renotthatyoung anymore.’
Rachelfeltthefamiliarshrinkingsensationthatso oftenaccompaniedmeetingswithherfather.
‘Iwanttothrowyoualiferaft,’hesaid. ‘Iwasn’tawareIwasdrowning.’
‘You’renot.ThePresidentis.Youshouldjumpship beforeit’stoolate.’
‘Haven’twehadthisconversation?’
‘Thinkaboutyourfuture,Rachel.Youcancomework forme.’
‘Ihopethat’snotwhyyouaskedmetobreakfast.’
Thesenator’sveneerofcalmbrokeeversoslightly. ‘Rachel,can’tyouseethatyourworkingforhimreflects badlyonme?Andonmycampaign.’
Rachelsighed.Sheandherfatherhadbeenthrough this.‘Dad,Idon’tworkforthePresident.Ihaven’t
even met thePresident.IworkinFairfax,forGod’s sake!’
‘Politicsisperception,Rachel.It appears youworkfor thePresident.’
Rachelexhaled,tryingtokeephercool.‘Iworkedtoo hardtogetthisjob,Dad.I’mnotquitting.’
Thesenator’seyesnarrowed.‘Youknow,sometimes yourselfishattitudereally—’
‘SenatorSexton?’Areportermaterializedbesidethe table.
Sexton’sdemeanorthawedinstantly.Rachelgroaned andtookacroissantfromthebasketonthetable.
‘RalphSneeden,’thereportersaid.‘WashingtonPost. MayIaskyouafewquestions?’
Thesenator smiled,dabbinghis mouthwitha napkin.‘Mypleasure,Ralph.Justmakeitquick.Idon’t wantmycoffeegettingcold.’
Thereporterlaughedoncue.‘Ofcourse,sir.’He pulledoutaminirecorderandturnediton.‘Senator, yourtelevisionadscallforlegislationensuringequal salariesforwomenintheworkplace...aswellasfor taxcutsfornewfamilies.Canyoucommentonyour rationale?’
‘Sure.I’msimplyahugefanofstrongwomenand strongfamilies.’
Rachelpracticallychokedonhercroissant.
‘Andonthesubjectoffamilies,’thereporterfollowed up,‘youtalkalotabouteducation.You’veproposed somehighlycontroversialbudgetcutsinaneffortto allocatemorefundstoournation’sschools.’
‘Ibelievethechildrenareourfuture.’
Rachelcouldnotbelieveherfatherhadsunkto quotingpopsongs.
‘Finally,sir,’thereportersaid,‘you’vetakenan
enormousjumpinthepollsthesepastfewweeks.The Presidenthasgottobeworried.Anythoughtsonyour recentsuccess?’
‘Ithinkithastodowithtrust.Americansarestarting toseethatthePresidentcannotbetrustedtomakethe toughdecisionsfacingthisnation.Runawaygovernmentspendingisputtingthiscountrydeeperindebt everyday,andAmericansarestartingtorealizethatit’s timetostopspendingandstartmending.’
Likeastayofexecutionfromherfather’srhetoric, thepagerinRachel’shandbagwentoff.Normallythe harshelectronicbeepingwasanunwelcomeinterruption,butatthemoment,itsoundedalmostmelodious.
Thesenatorglaredindignantlyathavingbeeninterrupted.
Rachelfishedthepagerfromherhandbagand pressedapresetsequenceoffivebuttons,confirming thatshewasindeedthepersonholdingthepager. Thebeepingstopped,andtheLCDbeganblinking. Infifteensecondsshewouldreceiveasecuretext message.
Sneedengrinnedatthesenator.‘Yourdaughteris obviouslyabusywoman.It’srefreshingtoseeyoutwo stillfindtimeinyourschedulestodinetogether.’
‘AsIsaid,familycomesfirst.’
Sneedennodded,andthenhisgazehardened. ‘MightIask,sir,howyouandyourdaughtermanage yourconflictsofinterest?’
‘Conflicts?’SenatorSextoncockedhisheadwithan innocentlookofconfusion.‘Whatconflictsdoyou mean?’
Rachelglancedup,grimacingatherfather’sact.She knewexactlywherethiswasheaded. Damnreporters, shethought.Halfofthemwereonpoliticalpayrolls.
Thereporter’squestionwaswhatjournalistscalleda grapefruit –aquestionthatwassupposedtolooklike atoughinquirybutwasinfactascriptedfavortothe senator–aslowlobpitchthatherfathercouldlineup andsmashoutofthepark,clearingtheairaboutafew things.
‘Well,sir...’Thereportercoughed,feigninguneasinessoverthequestion.‘Theconflictisthatyour daughterworksforyouropponent.’
SenatorSextonexplodedinlaughter,defusingthe questioninstantly.‘Ralph,firstofall,thePresidentand Iarenot opponents.Wearesimplytwopatriotswho havedifferentideasabouthowtorunthecountrywe love.’
Thereporterbeamed.Hehadhissoundbite.‘And second?’
‘Second,mydaughterisnotemployedbythe President;sheisemployedbytheintelligencecommunity.Shecompilesintelreportsandsendsthemto theWhiteHouse.It’safairlylow-levelposition.’He pausedandlookedatRachel.‘Infact,dear,I’mnotsure you’veeven met thePresident,haveyou?’ Rachelstared,hereyessmoldering.
Thebeeperchirped,drawingRachel’sgazetothe incomingmessageontheLCDscreen.
–RPRTDIRNROSTAT–
Shedecipheredtheshorthandinstantlyand frowned.Themessagewasunexpected,andmost certainlybadnews.Atleastshehadherexitcue.
‘Gentlemen,’shesaid.‘Itbreaksmyheart,butIhave togo.I’mlateforwork.’
‘MsSexton,’thereportersaidquickly,‘beforeyougo, Iwaswonderingifyoucouldcommentontherumors thatyoucalledthisbreakfastmeetingtodiscussthe
possibilityofleavingyourcurrentposttoworkforyour father’scampaign?’
Rachelfeltlikesomeonehadthrownhotcoffeein herface.Thequestiontookhertotallyoffguard.She lookedatherfatherandsensedinhissmirkthatthe questionhadbeenprepped.Shewantedtoclimbacross thetableandstabhimwithafork.
Thereportershovedtherecorderintoherface.‘Miss Sexton?’
Rachellockedeyeswiththereporter.‘Ralph,orwhoeverthehellyouare,getthisstraight:Ihaveno intentionofabandoningmyjobtoworkforSenator Sexton,andifyouprintanythingtothecontrary,you’ll needashoehorntogetthatrecorderoutofyourass.’
Thereporter’seyeswidened.Heclickedoffhis recorder,hidingagrin.‘Thankyouboth.’Hedisappeared.
Rachelimmediatelyregrettedtheoutburst.Shehad inheritedherfather’stemper,andshehatedhimforit. Smooth,Rachel,Verysmooth.
Herfatherglareddisapprovingly.‘You’ddowellto learnsomepoise.’
Rachelbegancollectingherthings.‘Thismeetingis over.’
Thesenatorwasapparentlydonewithheranyway. Hepulledouthiscellphonetomakeacall.‘’Bye, sweetie.Stopbytheofficeoneofthesedaysandsay hello.Andgetmarried,forGod’ssake.You’rethirtythreeyearsold.’
‘Thirty- four,’shesnapped.‘Yoursecretarysenta card.’
Hecluckedruefully.‘Thirty-four.Almostanold maid.YouknowbythetimeIwasthirty-four,I’d already—’
‘MarriedMomandscrewedtheneighbor?’The wordscameoutlouderthanRachelhadintended,her voicehangingnakedinanill-timedlull.Dinersnearby glancedover.
SenatorSexton’seyesflash-froze,twoice-crystals boringintoher.‘Youwatchyourself,younglady.’ Rachelheadedforthedoor. No,youwatchyourself, Senator.
ThethreemensatinsilenceinsidetheirThermaTech stormtent.Outside,anicywindbuffetedtheshelter, threateningtotearitfromitsmoorings.Noneofthe mentooknotice;eachhadseensituationsfarmore threateningthanthisone.
Theirtentwasstarkwhite,pitchedinashallow depression,outofsight.Theircommunicationdevices, transport,andweaponswereallstate-of-the-art. Thegroupleaderwascode-namedDelta-One.He wasmuscularandlithewitheyesasdesolateasthe topographyonwhichhewasstationed.
ThemilitarychronographonDelta-One’swrist emittedasharpbeep.Thesoundcoincidedinperfect unisonwithbeepsemittedfromthechronographs wornbytheothertwomen.
Anotherthirtyminuteshadpassed. Itwastime.Again.
Reflexively,Delta-Onelefthistwopartnersand steppedoutsideintothedarknessandpounding wind.Hescannedthemoonlithorizonwithinfrared
binoculars.Asalways,hefocusedonthestructure.It was1,000metersaway–anenormousandunlikely edificerisingfromthebarrenterrain.Heandhisteam hadbeenwatchingitfortendaysnow,sinceitsconstruction.Delta-Onehadnodoubtthattheinformation insidewouldchangetheworld.Livesalreadyhadbeen losttoprotectit.
Atthemoment,everythinglookedquietoutsidethe structure.
Thetruetest,however,waswhatwashappening inside.
Delta-Onereenteredthetentandaddressedhistwo fellowsoldiers.‘Timeforaflyby.’
Bothmennodded.Thetallerofthem,Delta-Two, openedalaptopcomputerandturnediton.Positioninghimselfinfrontofthescreen,Delta-Twoplaced hishandonamechanicaljoystickandgaveitashort jerk.Athousandmetersaway,hiddendeepwithinthe building,asurveillancerobotthesizeofamosquito receivedhistransmissionandsprangtolife.
RachelSextonwasstillsteamingasshedroveherwhite IntegraupLeesburgHighway.Thebaremaplesofthe FallsChurchfoothillsrosestarkagainstacrispMarch sky,butthepeacefulsettingdidlittletocalmheranger. Herfather’srecentsurgeinthepollsshouldhave endowedhimwithamodicumofconfidentgrace,and yetitseemedonlytofuelhisself-importance.
Theman’sdeceitwasdoublypainfulbecausehewas
theonlyimmediatefamilyRachelhadleft.Rachel’s motherhaddiedthreeyearsago,adevastatingloss whoseemotionalscarsstillrakedatRachel’sheart. Rachel’sonlysolacewasknowingthatthedeath,with ironiccompassion,hadliberatedhermotherfroma deepdespairoveramiserablemarriagetothesenator. Rachel’spagerbeepedagain,pullingherthoughts backtotheroadinfrontofher.Theincomingmessage wasthesame.
–RPRTDIRNROSTAT–
ReporttothedirectorofNROstat .Shesighed. I’m coming,forGod’ssake!
Withrisinguncertainty,Racheldrovetoherusual exit,turnedontotheprivateaccessroad,androlledtoa stopattheheavilyarmedsentrybooth.Thiswas14225 LeesburgHighway,oneofthemostsecretiveaddresses inthecountry.
Whiletheguardscannedhercarforbugs,Rachel gazedoutatthemammothstructureinthedistance. The1,000,000-square-footcomplexsatmajesticallyon 68forestedacresjustoutsideD.C.inFairfax,Virginia. Thebuilding’sfacadewasabastionofone-wayglass thatreflectedthearmyofsatellitedishes,antennas,and rayodomesonthesurroundinggrounds,doublingtheir alreadyawe-inspiringnumbers.
Twominuteslater,Rachelhadparkedandcrossed themanicuredgroundstothemainentrance,wherea carvedgranitesignannounced nationalreconnaissanceoffice(nro)
ThetwoarmedMarinesflankingthebulletproof revolvingdoorstaredstraightaheadasRachelpassed betweenthem.Shefeltthesamesensationshealways
feltasshepushedthroughthesedoors...thatshewas enteringthebellyofasleepinggiant.
Insidethevaultedlobby,Rachelsensedthefaint echoesofhushedconversationsallaroundher,asifthe wordsweresiftingdownfromtheofficesabove.An enormoustiledmosaicproclaimedtheNROdirective: enablingu.s.globalinformationsuperiority, duringpeaceandthroughwar.
Thewallsherewerelinedwithmassivephotographs –rocketlaunches,submarinechristenings,intercept installations–toweringachievementsthatcouldbe celebratedonlywithinthesewalls.
Now,asalways,Rachelfelttheproblemsofthe outsideworldfadingbehindher.Shewasenteringthe shadowworld.Aworldwheretheproblemsthundered inlikefreighttrains,andthesolutionsweremetedout withbarelyawhisper.
AsRachelapproachedthefinalcheckpoint,she wonderedwhatkindofproblemhadcausedherpager toringtwiceinthelastthirtyminutes.
‘Goodmorning,MsSexton.’Theguardsmiledasshe approachedthesteeldoorway.
Rachelreturnedthesmileastheguardheldouta tinyswabforRacheltotake.
‘Youknowthedrill,’hesaid.
Racheltookthehermeticallysealedcottonswaband removedtheplasticcovering.Thensheplaceditin hermouthlikeathermometer.Shehelditunderher tonguefortwoseconds.Then,leaningforward,she allowedtheguardtoremoveit.Theguardinsertedthe moistenedswabintoaslitinamachinebehindhim. ThemachinetookfoursecondstoconfirmtheDNA
sequencesinRachel’ssaliva.Thenamonitorflickered on,displayingRachel’sphotoandsecurityclearance.
Theguardwinked.‘Lookslikeyou’restillyou.’He pulledtheusedswabfromthemachineanddroppedit throughanopening,whereitwasinstantlyincinerated. ‘Haveagoodone.’Hepressedabuttonandthehuge steeldoorsswungopen.
AsRachelmadeherwayintothemazeofbustling corridorsbeyond,shewasamazedthatevenaftersix yearshereshewasstilldauntedbythecolossalscopeof thisoperation.TheagencyencompassedsixotherU.S. installations,employedovertenthousandagents,and hadoperatingcostsofover$10billionperyear.
Intotalsecrecy,theNRObuiltandmaintainedan astonishingarsenalofcutting-edgespytechnologies: worldwideelectronicintercepts;spysatellites;silent, embeddedrelaychipsintelecommproducts;evena globalnaval-reconnetworkknownasClassicWizard, asecretwebof1,456hydrophonesmountedonseafloorsaroundtheworld,capableofmonitoringship movementsanywhereontheglobe.
NROtechnologiesnotonlyhelpedtheUnitedStates winmilitaryconflicts,buttheyprovidedanendless streamofpeacetimedatatoagenciessuchastheCIA, NSA,andDepartmentofDefense,helpingthemthwart terrorism,locatecrimesagainsttheenvironment,and givepolicymakersthedataneededtomakeinformed decisionsonanenormousarrayoftopics.
Rachelworkedhereasa‘gister.’Gisting,ordata reduction,requiredanalyzingcomplexreportsand distillingtheiressenceor‘gist’intoconcise,single-page briefs.Rachelhadprovenherselfanatural. Allthose yearsofcuttingthroughmyfather’sbullshit,shethought.
RachelnowheldtheNRO’spremieregistingpost–
intelligenceliaisontotheWhiteHouse.Shewas responsibleforsiftingthroughtheNRO’sdailyintelligencereports,decidingwhichstorieswererelevant tothePresident,distillingthosereportsintosinglepagebriefs,andthenforwardingthesynopsized materialtothePresident’sNationalSecurityAdviser. InNRO-speak,RachelSexton‘manufacturedfinished productandserviced the customer.’
Althoughthejobwasdifficultandrequiredlong hours,thepositionwasabadgeofhonorforher,away toassertherindependencefromherfather.Senator SextonhadofferedcountlesstimestosupportRachel ifshewouldquitthepost,butRachelhadnointentionofbecomingfinanciallybeholdentoamanlike SedgewickSexton.Hermotherwastestimonytowhat couldhappenwhenamanlikethatheldtoomany cards.
ThesoundofRachel’spagerechoedinthemarble hall.
Again? Shedidn’tevenbothertocheckthemessage. Wonderingwhatthehellwasgoingon,sheboarded theelevator,skippedherownfloor,andwentstraight tothetop. 4
TocalltheNROdirectoraplainmanwasinitselfan overstatement.NRODirectorWilliamPickeringwas diminutive,withpaleskin,aforgettableface,abald head,andhazeleyes,whichdespitehavinggazedupon thecountry’sdeepestsecrets,appearedastwoshallow
pools.Nonetheless,tothosewhoworkedunderhim, Pickeringtowered.Hissubduedpersonalityand unadornedphilosophieswerelegendaryattheNRO. Theman’squietdiligence,combinedwithhiswardrobe ofplainblacksuits,hadearnedhimthenickname the‘Quaker.’Abrilliantstrategistandthemodelof efficiency,theQuakerranhisworldwithanunrivaled clarity.Hismantra:‘Findthetruth.Actonit.’
WhenRachelarrivedinthedirector’soffice,hewas onthephone.Rachelwasalwayssurprisedbythesight ofhim:WilliamPickeringlookednothinglikeaman whowieldedenoughpowertowakethePresidentat anyhour.
Pickeringhungupandwavedherin.‘AgentSexton, haveaseat.’Hisvoicehadalucidrawnesstoit.
‘Thankyou,sir.’Rachelsat.
Despitemostpeople’sdiscomfortaroundWilliam Pickering’sbluntdemeanor,Rachelhadalwaysliked theman.Hewastheexactantithesisofherfather... physicallyunimposing,anythingbutcharismatic,and hedidhisdutywithaselflesspatriotism,shunningthe spotlightherfatherlovedsomuch.
Pickeringremovedhisglassesandgazedather. ‘AgentSexton,thePresidentcalledmeaboutahalf hourago.Indirectreferencetoyou.’
Rachelshiftedinherseat.Pickeringwasknownfor gettingtothepoint. Onehellofanopening ,shethought. ‘Notaproblemwithoneofmygists,Ihope.’ ‘Onthecontrary.HesaystheWhiteHouseisimpressedwithyourwork.’
Rachelexhaledsilently.‘Sowhatdidhewant?’ ‘Ameetingwithyou.Inperson.Immediately.’
Rachel’suneasesharpened.‘Apersonalmeeting? About what ?’
‘Damngoodquestion.Hewouldn’ttellme.’
NowRachelwaslost.Keepinginformationfromthe directoroftheNROwaslikekeepingVaticansecrets fromthePope.Thestandingjokeintheintelligence communitywasthatifWilliamPickeringdidn’tknow aboutit,ithadn’thappened.
Pickeringstood,pacingnowinfrontofhiswindow. ‘HeaskedthatIcontactyouimmediatelyandsendyou tomeetwithhim.’
‘Rightnow?’
‘Hesenttransportation.It’swaitingoutside.’
Rachelfrowned.ThePresident’srequestwasunnervingonitsownaccount,butitwasthelookof concernonPickering’sfacethatreallyworriedher. ‘Youobviouslyhavereservations.’
‘Isureashelldo!’Pickeringshowedarareflashof emotion.‘ThePresident’stimingseemsalmostcallow initstransparency.Youarethedaughteroftheman whoiscurrentlychallenginghiminthepolls,andhe demandsaprivatemeetingwithyou?Ifindthishighly inappropriate.Yourfathernodoubtwouldagree.’
RachelknewPickeringwasright–notthatshegave adamnwhatherfatherthought.‘Doyounottrustthe President’smotives?’
‘Myoathistoprovideintelsupporttothecurrent WhiteHouseadministration,notpassjudgmenton theirpolitics.’
TypicalPickeringresponse,Rachelrealized.William Pickeringmadenobonesabouthisviewofpoliticians astransitoryfigureheadswhopassedfleetinglyacrossa chessboardwhoserealplayersweremenlikePickering himself–seasoned‘lifers’whohadbeenaroundlong enoughtounderstandthegamewithsomeperspective. TwofulltermsintheWhiteHouse,Pickeringoften
said,wasnotnearlyenoughtocomprehendthetrue complexitiesoftheglobalpoliticallandscape.
‘Maybeit’saninnocentrequest,’Racheloffered, hopingthePresidentwasabovetryingsomesortof cheapcampaignstunt.‘Maybeheneedsareduction ofsomesensitivedata.’
‘Nottosoundbelittling,AgentSexton,buttheWhite Househasaccesstoplentyofqualifiedgistingpersonneliftheyneedit.Ifit’saninternalWhiteHousejob, thePresidentshouldknowbetterthantocontactyou. Andifnot,thenhesureashellshouldknowbetterthan torequestanNROassetandthenrefusetotellmewhat hewantsitfor.’
Pickeringalwaysreferredtohisemployeesasassets, amannerofspeechmanyfounddisconcertinglycold.
‘Yourfatherisgainingpoliticalmomentum,’ Pickeringsaid.‘A lot ofit.TheWhiteHousehasgotto begettingnervous.’Hesighed.‘Politicsisadesperate business.WhenthePresidentcallsasecretmeeting withhischallenger’sdaughter,I’dguessthere’smore onhismindthanintelligencegists.’
Rachelfeltadistantchill.Pickering’shuncheshadan uncannytendencytobedeadon.‘Andyou’reafraid theWhiteHousefeelsdesperateenoughtointroduce me intothepoliticalmix?’
Pickeringpausedamoment.‘Youarenotexactly silentaboutyourfeelingsforyourfather,andIhave littledoubtthePresident’scampaignstaffisawareof therift.Itoccurstomethattheymaywanttouseyou againsthimsomehow.’
‘WheredoIsignup?’Rachelsaid,onlyhalfjoking. Pickeringlookedunimpressed.Hegaveherastern stare.‘Awordofwarning,AgentSexton.Ifyoufeelthat yourpersonalissueswithyourfatheraregoingtocloud
yourjudgmentindealingwiththePresident,Istrongly advisethatyoudeclinethePresident’srequestfora meeting.’
‘Decline?’Rachelgaveanervouschuckle.‘Iobviously can’trefusethePresident.’
‘No,’thedirectorsaid,‘butIcan.’
Hiswordsrumbledabit,remindingRachelofthe otherreasonPickeringwascalledthe‘Quaker.’Despite beingasmallman,WilliamPickeringcouldcausepoliticalearthquakesifhewerecrossed.
‘Myconcernsherearesimple,’Pickeringsaid.‘Ihave aresponsibilitytoprotectthepeoplewhoworkforme, andIdon’tappreciateeventhevagueimplicationthat oneofthemmightbeusedasapawninapolitical game.’
‘WhatdoyourecommendIdo?’
Pickeringsighed.‘Mysuggestionisthatyoumeet withhim.Committonothing.OncethePresidenttells youwhatthehellisonhismind,callme.IfIthinkhe’s playingpoliticalhardballwithyou,trustme,I’llpull yououtsofastthemanwon’tknowwhathithim.’
‘Thankyou,sir.’Rachelsensedaprotectiveaurafrom thedirectorthatsheoftenlongedforinherownfather.
‘AndyousaidthePresidentalreadysentacar?’
‘Notexactly.’Pickeringfrownedandpointedoutthe window.
Uncertain,Rachelwentoverandgazedoutinthe directionofPickering’soutstretchedfinger.
Asnub-nosedMH-60GPaveHawkhelicoptersat idlingonthelawn.Oneofthefastestchoppersever made,thisPaveHawkwasemblazonedwiththeWhite Houseinsignia.Thepilotstoodnearby,checkinghis watch.
RachelturnedtoPickeringindisbelief.‘TheWhite
Housesenta PaveHawk totakemefifteenmilesinto D.C.?’
‘ApparentlythePresidenthopesyouareeitherimpressedorintimidated.’Pickeringeyedher.‘Isuggest youareneither.’
Rachelnodded.Shewasboth.
Fourminuteslater,RachelSextonexitedtheNROand climbedintothewaitinghelicopter.Beforeshehad evenbuckledherselfin,thecraftwasairborne,banking hardacrosstheVirginiawoods.Rachelgazedoutat thebluroftreesbeneathherandfeltherpulserising. Itwouldhaverisenfasterhadsheknownthischopper wouldneverreachtheWhiteHouse.
5
ThefrigidwindbatteredthefabricoftheThermaTech tent,butDelta-Onehardlynoticed.HeandDelta-Three werefocusedontheircomrade,whowasmanipulating thejoystickinhishandwithsurgicaldexterity.The screenbeforethemdisplayedalivevideotransmission fromapinpointcameramountedaboardthemicrorobot.
Theultimatesurveillancetool,Delta-Onethought,still amazedeverytimetheypowereditup.Lately,inthe worldofmicromechanics,factseemedtobeoutpacing fiction.
MicroElectroMechanicalSystems(MEMS)–microbots–werethenewesttoolinhigh-techsurveillance–‘flyonthewalltechnology,’theycalledit.
Literally.
Althoughmicroscopic,remote-controlledrobots soundedlikesciencefiction,infacttheyhadbeen aroundsincethe1990s. Discovery magazinehadrun acoverstoryinMay1997onmicrobots,featuring both‘flying’and‘swimming’models.Theswimmers–nanosubsthesizeofsaltgrains–couldbeinjectedinto thehumanbloodstream à la themovie FantasticVoyage. Theywerenowbeingusedbyadvancedmedical facilitiestohelpdoctorsnavigatearteriesbyremote control,observeliveintravenousvideotransmissions, andlocatearterialblockageswithouteverliftinga scalpel.
Contrarytointuition,buildinga flying microbotwas anevensimplerbusiness.Theaerodynamicstechnology forgettingamachinetoflyhadbeenaroundsince Kittyhawk,andallthatremainedhadbeentheissueof miniaturization.Thefirstflyingmicrobots,designedby NASAasunmannedexplorationtoolsforfutureMars missions,hadbeenseveralincheslong.Now,however, advancesinnanotechnology,lightweightenergyabsorbentmaterials,andmicromechanicshadmadethe flyingmicrobotsareality.
Thetruebreakthroughhadcomefromthenewfield biomimics–copyingMotherNature.Miniaturedragonflies,asitturnedout,weretheidealprototypeforthese agileandefficientflyingmicrobots.ThePH2model Delta-Twowascurrentlyflyingwasonlyonecentimeterlong–thesizeofa mosquito –andemployeda dualpairoftransparent,hinged,silicon-leafwings, givingitunparalleledmobilityandefficiencyintheair.
Themicrobot’srefuelingmechanismhadbeen anotherbreakthrough.Thefirstmicrobotprototypes couldonlyrechargetheirenergycellsbyhovering
directlybeneathabrightlightsource,notidealfor stealthoruseindarklocales.Thenewerprototypes, however,couldrechargesimplybyparkingwithin afewinchesofamagneticfield.Conveniently,in modernsociety,magneticfieldswereubiquitousand discreetlyplaced–poweroutlets,computermonitors, electricmotors,audiospeakers,cellphones–itseemed therewasneveranyshortageofobscurerecharging stations.Onceamicrobothadbeenintroduced successfullyintoalocale,itcouldtransmitaudioand videoalmostindefinitely.TheDeltaForce’sPH2had beentransmittingforoveraweeknowwithnotrouble whatsoever.
Now,likeaninsecthoveringinsideacavernousbarn, theairbornemicrobothungsilentlyinthestillairof thestructure’smassivecentralroom.Withabird’s-eye viewofthespacebelow,themicrobotcircledsilently aboveunsuspectingoccupants–technicians,scientists, specialistsincountlessfieldsofstudy.AsthePH2 circled,Delta-Onespottedtwofamiliarfacesengaged inconversation.Theywouldbeatellingmark.Hetold Delta-Twotodropdownandhavealisten.
Manipulatingthecontrols,Delta-Twoswitchedon therobot’ssoundsensors,orientedthemicrobot’sparabolicamplifier,anddecreasedtherobot’selevation untilitwastenfeetoverthescientists’heads.The transmissionwasfaint,butdiscernible.
‘Istillcan’tbelieveit,’onescientistwassaying.The excitementinhisvoicehadnotdiminishedsincehis arrivalhereforty-eighthoursago.
Themanwithwhomhewastalkingobviously sharedtheenthusiasm.‘Inyourlifetime...didyou everthinkyouwouldwitnessanythinglikethis?’
‘Never,’thescientistreplied,beaming.‘It’salla magnificentdream.’
Delta-Onehadheardenough.Clearlyeverything insidewasproceedingasexpected.Delta-Two maneuveredthemicrobotawayfromtheconversation andflewitbacktoitshidingplace.Heparkedthe tinydeviceundetectednearthecylinderofanelectric generator.ThePH2’spowercellsimmediatelybegan rechargingforthenextmission.
RachelSexton’sthoughtswerelostinthemorning’s bizarredevelopmentsasherPaveHawktransport toreacrossthemorningsky,anditwasnotuntilthe helicopterrocketedoutacrossChesapeakeBaythatshe realizedtheywereheadinginentirelythewrongdirection.Theinitialflashofconfusioninstantlygavewayto trepidation.
‘Hey!’sheyelledtothepilot.‘Whatareyoudoing?’ Hervoicewasbarelyaudibleovertherotors.‘You’re supposedtobetakingmetotheWhiteHouse!’
Thepilotshookhishead.‘Sorry,ma’am.ThePresidentisnotattheWhiteHousethismorning.’
RacheltriedtorememberifPickeringhadspecifically mentionedtheWhiteHouseorwhethershehadsimply assumed.‘SowhereisthePresident?’
‘Yourmeetingwithhimiselsewhere.’ Noshit .‘Whereelsewhere?’
‘Notfarnow.’
‘That’snotwhatIasked.’
‘Sixteenmoremiles.’
Rachelscowledathim. Thisguyshouldbeapolitician . ‘Doyoudodgebulletsaswellasyoudodgequestions?’ Thepilotdidnotanswer.
Ittooklessthansevenminutesforthechoppertocross theChesapeake.Whenlandwasinsightagain,the pilotbankednorthandskirtedanarrowpeninsula, whereRachelsawaseriesofrunwaysandmilitarylookingbuildings.Thepilotdroppeddowntoward them,andRachelthenrealizedwhatthisplacewas. Thesixlaunchpadsandcharredrockettowerswerea goodclue,butifthatwasnotenough,theroofofoneof thebuildingshadbeenpaintedwithtwoenormous words: wallopsisland .
WallopsIslandwasoneofNASA’soldestlaunch sites.Stillusedtodayforsatellitelaunchesandtesting ofexperimentalaircraft,WallopswasNASA’sbase awayfromthespotlight.
ThePresidentisatWallopsIsland? Itmadenosense.
Thechopperpilotalignedhistrajectorywithaseries ofthreerunwaysthatranthelengthofthenarrow peninsula.Theyseemedtobeheadingforthefarendof thecenterrunway.
Thepilotbegantoslow.‘Youwillbemeetingthe Presidentinhisoffice.’
Rachelturned,wonderingiftheguywasjoking.‘The PresidentoftheUnitedStateshasanofficeonWallops Island?’
Thepilotlookeddeadserious.‘ThePresidentofthe UnitedStateshasanofficewhereverhelikes,ma’am.’ Hepointedtowardtheendoftherunway.Rachel sawthemammothshapeglisteninginthedistance, andherheartalmoststopped.Evenat300yards,
sherecognizedthelightbluehullofthemodified 747. XX
‘I’mmeetinghimaboardthe...’ ‘Yes,ma’am.Hishomeawayfromhome.’ Rachelstaredoutatthemassiveaircraft.The military’scrypticdesignationforthisprestigiousplane wasVC-25-A,althoughtherestoftheworldknewitby anothername:AirForceOne.
‘Lookslikeyou’reinthe new onethismorning,’the pilotsaid,motioningtothenumbersontheplane’stail fin.
Rachelnoddedblankly.FewAmericansknewthat therewereactuallytwoAirForceOnesinservice–a pairofidentical,speciallyconfigured747-200-Bs,one withthetailnumber28000andtheother29000.Both planeshadcruisingspeedsof600mphandhadbeen modifiedforin-flightrefueling,givingthemvirtually unlimitedrange.
AsthePaveHawksettledontotherunwaybeside thePresident’splane,Rachelnowunderstoodthe referencestoAirForceOnebeingthecommander-inchief’s‘portablehomecourtadvantage.’Themachine wasanintimidatingsight.
WhenthePresidentflewtoothercountriestomeet headsofstate,heoftenrequested–forsecurity purposes–thatthemeetingtakeplaceontherunway aboardhisjet.Althoughsomeofthemotiveswere security,certainlyanotherincentivewastogaina negotiatingedgethroughrawintimidation.Avisitto AirForceOnewasfarmoreintimidatingthananytrip totheWhiteHouse.Thesix-foot-highlettersalongthe fuselagetrumpeted‘unitedstatesofamerica .’A femaleEnglishcabinetmemberhadonceaccused PresidentNixonof‘wavinghismanhoodinherface’
whenheaskedhertojoinhimaboardAirForceOne. Laterthecrewjokinglynicknamedtheplane‘Big Dick.’XX
‘MsSexton?’Ablazer-cladSecretServiceman materializedoutsidethechopperandopenedthedoor forher.‘ThePresidentiswaitingforyou.’
Rachelgotoutofthechopperandgazedupthesteep gangwayatthebulginghull. Intotheflyingphallus.She hadonceheardtheflying‘OvalOffice’hadoverfour thousandsquarefeetofinteriorfloorspace,including fourseparateprivatesleepingquarters,berthsfora twenty-six-memberflightcrew,andtwogalleyscapable ofprovidingfoodforfiftypeople.
Climbingthestairway,RachelfelttheSecretServicemanonherheels,urgingherupward.Highabove,the cabindoorstoodopenlikeatinypuncturewound onthesideofagargantuansilverwhale.Shemoved towardthedarkenedentrywayandfeltherconfidence startingtoebb.
Easy,Rachel.It’sjustaplane.
Onthelanding,theSecretServicemanpolitelytook herarmandguidedherintoasurprisinglynarrow corridor.Theyturnedright,walkedashortdistance, andemergedintoaluxuriousandspaciouscabin. Rachelimmediatelyrecognizeditfromphotographs.
‘Waithere,’theservicemansaid,andhedisappeared.
RachelstoodaloneinAirForceOne’sfamouswoodpaneledforecabin.Thiswas theroomusedfor meetings,entertainingdignitaries,and,apparently,for scaringthehelloutoffirst-timepassengers.Theroom spannedtheentirewidthoftheplane,asdiditsthick tancarpeting.Thefurnishingswereimpeccable–cordovanleatherarmchairsaroundabird’s-eyemaple meetingtable,burnishedbrassfloorlampsbesidea
continentalsofa,andhand-etchedcrystalglasswareon amahoganywetbar.
Supposedly,Boeingdesignershadcarefullylaidout thisforecabintoprovidepassengerswith‘asenseof ordermixedwithtranquility.’Tranquility,however, wasthelastthingRachelSextonwasfeelingatthe moment.Theonlythingshecouldthinkofwasthe numberofworldleaderswhohadsatinthisveryroom andmadedecisionsthatshapedtheworld.
Everythingaboutthisroomsaidpower,fromthe faintaromaoffinepipetobaccototheubiquitous presidentialseal.Theeagleclaspingthearrowsand olivebrancheswasembroideredonthrowpillows, carvedintotheicebucket,andevenprintedonthecork coastersonthebar.Rachelpickedupacoasterand examinedit.
‘Stealingsouvenirsalready?’adeepvoiceasked behindher.
Startled,Rachelwheeled,droppingthecoasteron thefloor.Shekneltawkwardlytoretrieveit.Asshe graspedthecoaster,sheturnedtoseethePresidentof theUnitedStatesgazingdownatherwithanamused grin.
‘I’mnotroyalty,MsSexton.There’sreallynoneedto kneel.’ 7
SenatorSedgewickSexton savored theprivacyof hisLincolnstretchlimousineasitsnakedthrough Washington’smorningtraffictowardhisoffice.Across
fromhim,GabrielleAshe,histwenty-four-year-old personalassistant,readhimhisdailyschedule.Sexton wasbarelylistening.
IloveWashington ,hethought,admiringtheassistant’s perfectshapebeneathhercashmeresweater. Poweris thegreatestaphrodisiacofall...anditbringswomenlike thistoD.C.indroves.
GabriellewasaNewYorkIvyLeaguerwithdreams ofbeingasenatorherselfoneday. She’llmakeittoo , Sextonthought.Shewasincredible-lookingandsharp asawhip.Aboveall,sheunderstoodtherulesofthe game.
GabrielleAshewasblack,buthertawnycoloring wasmoreofadeepcinnamonormahogany,thekind ofcomfortablein-betweenthatSextonknewbleeding heart‘whites’couldendorsewithoutfeelinglikethey weregivingawaythefarm.SextondescribedGabrielle tohiscroniesasHalleBerry’slookswithHillary Clinton’sbrainsandambition,althoughsometimeshe thoughteventhatwasanunderstatement.
Gabriellehadbeenatremendousassettohiscampaignsincehe’dpromotedhertohispersonalcampaign assistantthreemonthsago.Andtotopitalloff,shewas workingforfree.Hercompensationforasixteen-hour workdaywaslearningtheropesinthetrencheswitha seasonedpolitician.
Ofcourse,Sextongloated, I’vepersuadedhertodoabit morethanjustwork.AfterpromotingGabrielle,Sexton hadinvitedhertoalatenight‘orientationsession’ inhisprivateoffice.Asexpected,hisyoungassistant arrivedstarstruckandeagertoplease.Withaslowmovingpatiencemasteredoverdecades,Sexton workedhismagic...buildingupGabrielle’strust, carefullystrippingawayherinhibitions,exhibiting
tantalizingcontrol,andfinallyseducingherrightthere inhisoffice.
Sextonhadlittledoubttheencounterhadbeenone ofthemostsexuallygratifyingexperiencesoftheyoung woman’slife,andyet,inthelightoftheday,Gabrielle clearlyregrettedtheindiscretion.Embarrassed,she offeredtoresign.Sextonrefused.Gabriellestayedon, butshemadeherintentionsveryclear.Therelationship hadbeenstrictlybusinesseversince.
Gabrielle’spoutylipswerestillmoving.‘...don’t wantyoutobelackadaisicalgoingintothisCNN debatethisafternoon.Westilldon’tknowwhothe WhiteHouseissendingasopposition.You’llwantto perusethesenotesItyped.’Shehandedhimafolder.
Sextontookthefolder,savoringthescentofher perfumemixedwiththeplushleatherseats.
‘Youaren’tlistening,’shesaid.
‘Certainlyam.’Hegrinned.‘ForgetaboutthisCNN debate.Worsecasescenario,theWhiteHousesnubsme bysendingsomelow-levelcampaignintern.Bestcase scenario,theysendabigwig,andIeathimforlunch.’
Gabriellefrowned.‘Fine.I’veincludedalistofthe mostprobablehostiletopicsinyournotes.’
‘Theusualsuspectsnodoubt.’
‘Withonenewentry.Ithinkyoumightface somehostilebacklashfromthegaycommunityforyour commentslastnighton LarryKing .’
Sextonshrugged,barelylistening.‘Right.Thesamesexmarriagething.’
Gabriellegavehimadisapprovinglook.‘You did comeoutagainstitprettystrongly.’
Same-sexmarriages,Sextonthoughtindisgust. Ifit wereuptome,thefaggotswouldn’tevenhavetherightto vote .‘Okay,I’llturnitdownanotch.’
‘Good.You’vebeenpushingtheenvelopeabiton someofthesehottopicslately.Don’tgetcocky.The publiccanturninaninstant.You’regainingnow,and youhavemomentum.Justrideitout.There’snoneed tohittheballoutoftheparktoday.Justkeepitinplay.’
‘AnynewsfromtheWhiteHouse?’
Gabriellelookedpleasantlybaffled.‘Continued silence.It’sofficial;youropponenthasbecomethe ‘‘InvisibleMan.’’’
Sextoncouldbarelybelievehisgoodfortunelately. Formonths,thePresidenthadbeenworkinghardon thecampaigntrail.Thensuddenly,aweekago,hehad lockedhimselfintheOvalOffice,andnobodyhadseen orheardfromhimsince.ItwasasifthePresident simplycouldnotfaceSexton’sgroundswellofvoter support.
Gabrielleranahandthroughherstraightenedblack hair.‘IheartheWhiteHousecampaignstaffisas confusedasweare.ThePresidentisofferingnoexplanationforhisvanishingact,andeveryoneoverthereis furious.’
‘Anytheories?’Sextonasked.
Gabriellegazedathimoverherscholarlyglasses.‘As itturnsout,Igotsomeinterestingdatathismorning fromacontactofmineintheWhiteHouse.’
Sextonrecognizedthelookinhereyes.Gabrielle Ashehadscoredsomeinsiderinformationagain.Sexton wonderedifsheweregivingsomepresidentialaide backseatblowjobsinexchangeforcampaignsecrets. Sextondidn’tcare...solongastheinformationkept coming.
‘Rumorhasit,’hisassistantsaid,loweringher voice,‘thePresident’sstrangebehaviorallstartedlast weekafteranemergencyprivatebriefingwiththe
administratorofNASA.ApparentlythePresident emergedfromthemeetinglookingdazed.Heimmediatelyclearedhisschedule,andhe’sbeeninclose contactwithNASAeversince.’
Sextoncertainlylikedthesoundofthat.‘Youthink maybeNASAdeliveredsomemorebadnews?’
‘Seemsalogicalexplanation,’shesaidhopefully. ‘Althoughitwouldhavetobeprettycriticaltomake thePresidentdropeverything.’
Sextonconsideredit.Obviously,whateverwas goingonwithNASAhadtobebadnews. Otherwisethe Presidentwouldthrowitinmyface.Sextonhadbeen poundingthePresidentprettyhardonNASAfundinglately.Thespaceagency’srecentstringoffailed missionsandgargantuanbudgetoverrunshadearned NASAthedubioushonorofbecomingSexton’s unofficialposterchildagainstbiggovernmentoverspendingandinefficiency.Admittedly,attackingNASA –oneofthemostprominentsymbolsofAmericanpride –wasnotthewaymostpoliticianswouldthinkof winningvotes,butSextonhadaweaponfewother politicianshad–GabrielleAshe.Andherimpeccable instincts.
ThesavvyyoungwomanhadcometoSexton’sattentionseveralmonthsagowhenshewasworkingasa coordinatorinSexton’sWashingtoncampaignoffice. WithSextontrailingbadlyintheprimarypollsand hismessageofgovernmentoverspendingfallingon deafears,GabrielleAshewrotehimanotesuggesting aradicalnewcampaignangle.Shetoldthesenator he should attack NASA’s hugebudgetoverrunsand continuedWhiteHousebailoutsasthequintessential exampleofPresidentHerney’scarelessoverspending.
‘NASAiscostingAmericansafortune,’Gabrielle
wrote,includingalistoffinancialfigures,failures, andbailouts.‘Votershavenoidea.Theywouldbe horrified.IthinkyoushouldmakeNASAapolitical issue.’
Sextongroanedathernaïveté.‘Yeah,andwhileI’m atit,I’llrailagainstsingingthenationalanthemat baseballgames.’
Intheweeksthatfollowed,Gabriellecontinued tosendinformationaboutNASAacrossthesenator’s desk.ThemoreSextonread,themoreherealizedthis youngGabrielleAshehadapoint.Evenbygovernment agencystandards,NASAwasanastoundingmoneypit –expensive,inefficient,andinrecentyears,grossly incompetent.
OneafternoonSextonwasdoinganon-airinterview abouteducation.ThehostwaspressingSextonabout wherehewouldfindfundingforhispromisedoverhaulofpublicschools.Inresponse,Sextondecided totestGabrielle’sNASAtheorywithahalf-joking response.‘Moneyforeducation?’hesaid.‘Well,maybe I’llcutthespaceprograminhalf.IfigureifNASAcan spendfifteenbillionayearinspace,Ishouldbeableto spendsevenandahalfbilliononthekidshereon earth.’
Inthetransmissionbooth,Sexton’scampaign managersgaspedinhorroratthecarelessremark. Afterall,entirecampaignshadbeensunkbyfarless thantakingapotshotatNASA.Instantly,thephone linesattheradiostationlitup.Sexton’scampaign managerscringed;thespacepatriotswerecirclingfor thekill.
Thensomethingunexpectedhappened.
‘Fifteenbillionayear?’thefirstcallersaid,sounding shocked.‘Witha B? Areyoutellingmethatmyson’s
mathclassisovercrowdedbecauseschoolscan’tafford enoughteachers,andNASAisspendingfifteenbillion dollarsayeartakingpicturesofspacedust?’
‘Um...that’sright,’Sextonsaidwarily.
‘Absurd!DoesthePresidenthavethepowertodo somethingaboutthat?’
‘Absolutely,’Sextonreplied,gainingconfidence.‘A Presidentcanvetothebudgetrequestofanyagencyhe orshedeemsoverfunded.’
‘Thenyouhavemyvote,SenatorSexton.Fifteen billionforspaceresearch,andourkidsdon’thave teachers.It’soutrageous!Goodluck,sir.Ihopeyougo alltheway.’
Thenextcallercameontheline.‘Senator,Ijust readthatNASA’sInternationalSpaceStationisway overbudgetandthePresidentisthinkingofgiving NASAemergencyfundingtokeeptheprojectgoing.Is thattrue?’
Sextonjumpedatthisone.‘True!’Heexplainedthat thespacestationwasoriginallyproposedasajoint venture,withtwelvecountriessharingthecosts.But afterconstructionbegan,thestation’sbudgetspiraled wildlyoutofcontrol,andmanycountriesdropped outindisgust.Ratherthanscrappingtheproject,the Presidentdecidedtocovereveryone’sexpenses.‘Our costfortheISSproject,’Sextonannounced,‘hasrisen fromtheproposedeightbilliontoastaggering one hundred billiondollars!’
Thecallersoundedfurious.‘Whythehelldoesn’tthe Presidentpulltheplug?’
Sextoncouldhavekissedtheguy.‘Damngoodquestion.Unfortunately,onethirdofthebuildingsupplies arealreadyinorbit,andthePresidentspent your tax dollarsputtingthemthere,sopullingtheplugwould
beadmittinghemadeamultibillion-dollarblunder with your money.’
Thecallskeptcoming.Forthefirsttime,itseemed AmericanswerewakinguptotheideathatNASAwas anoption–notanationalfixture.
Whentheshowwasover,withtheexceptionofa fewNASAdiehardscallinginwithpoignantovertures aboutman’seternalquestforknowledge,theconsensuswasin:Sexton’scampaignhadstumbledonto theholygrailofcampaigning–anew‘hotbutton’–a yetuntappedcontroversialissuethatstruckanerve withvoters.
Intheweeksthatfollowed,Sextontrouncedhis opponentsinfivecrucialprimaries.Heannounced GabrielleAsheashisnewpersonalcampaignassistant, praisingherforherworkinbringingtheNASAissueto thevoters.Withthewaveofahand,Sextonhadmade ayoungAfrican-Americanwomanarisingpoliticalstar, andtheissueofhisracistandsexistvotingrecord disappearedovernight.
Now,astheysattogetherinthelimousine,Sexton knewGabriellehadyetagainprovenherworth.Her newinformationaboutlastweek’ssecretmeeting betweentheNASAadministratorandthePresident certainlysuggestedmoreNASAtroubleswerebrewing –perhapsanothercountrypullingfundingfromthe spacestation.
AsthelimousinepassedtheWashingtonMonument, SenatorSextoncouldnothelpbutfeelhehadbeen anointedbydestiny.
Despitehavingascendedtothemostpowerfulpolitical officeintheworld,PresidentZacharyHerneywas averageinheight,withaslenderbuildandnarrow shoulders.Hehadafreckledface,bifocals,and thinningblackhair.Hisunimposingphysique,however,stoodinstarkcontrasttothealmostprincelylove themancommandedfromthosewhoknewhim.Itwas saidthatifyoumetZachHerneyonce,youwouldwalk totheendsoftheearthforhim.
‘Sogladyoucouldmakeit,’PresidentHerneysaid, reachingouttoshakeRachel’shand.Hisgraspwas warmandsincere.
Rachelfoughtthefroginherthroat.‘Of...course, MrPresident.Anhonortomeetyou.’
ThePresidentgaveheracomfortinggrin,andRachel sensedfirsthandthelegendaryHerneyaffability.The manpossessedaneasygoingcountenancepolitical cartoonistslovedbecausenomatterhowskeweda renditiontheydrew,nooneevermistooktheman’s effortlesswarmthandamiablesmile.Hiseyesmirrored sincerityanddignityatalltimes.
‘Ifyoufollowme,’hesaidinacheeryvoice,‘I’vegot acupofcoffeewithyournameonit.’
‘Thankyou,sir.’
ThePresidentpressedtheintercomandcalledfor somecoffeeinhisoffice.
AsRachelfollowedthePresidentthroughtheplane, shecouldnothelpbutnoticethathelookedextremely
happyandwellrestedforamanwhowasdowninthe polls.Hewasalsoverycasuallydressed–bluejeans,a poloshirt,andL.L.Beanhikingboots.
Racheltriedtomakeconversation.‘Doing...some hiking,MrPresident?’
‘Notatall.Mycampaignadvisershavedecidedthis shouldbemynewlook.Whatdoyouthink?’
Rachelhopedforhissakethathewasn’tserious.‘It’s very...um... manly ,sir.’
Herneywasdeadpan.‘Good.We’rethinkingitwill helpmewinbacksomeofthewomen’svotefromyour father.’Afterabeat,thePresidentbrokeintoabroad smile.‘MsSexton,thatwasa joke.Ithinkwebothknow I’llneedmorethanapoloshirtandbluejeanstowin thiselection.’
ThePresident’sopennessandgoodhumorwere quicklyevaporatinganytensionRachelfeltaboutbeing there.WhatthisPresidentlackedinphysicalbrawn, hemorethanmadeupforindiplomaticrapport. Diplomacywasaboutpeopleskills,andZachHerney hadthegift.
RachelfollowedthePresidenttowardthebackof theplane.Thedeepertheywent,thelesstheinterior resembledaplane–curvedhallways,wallpapered walls,evenanexerciseroomcompletewithStairMaster androwingmachine.Oddly,theplaneseemedalmost entirelydeserted.
‘Travelingalone,MrPresident?’ Heshookhishead.‘Justlanded,actually.’ Rachelwassurprised. Landedfromwhere? Herintel briefsthisweekhadincludednothingaboutpresidentialtravelplans.ApparentlyhewasusingWallops Islandtotravelquietly.
‘Mystaffdeplanedrightbeforeyouarrived,’the
Presidentsaid.‘I’mheadedbacktotheWhiteHouse shortlytomeetthem,butIwantedtomeetyouhere insteadofmyoffice.’
‘Tryingtointimidateme?’
‘Onthecontrary.Tryingtorespectyou,MsSexton. TheWhiteHouseisanythingbutprivate,andnewsof ameetingbetweenthetwoofuswouldputyouinan awkwardpositionwithyourfather.’
‘Iappreciatethat,sir.’
‘Itseemsyou’remanagingadelicatebalancing actquitegracefully,andIseenoreasontodisrupt that.’XX
Rachelflashedonherbreakfastmeetingwithher fatheranddoubtedthatitqualifiedas‘graceful.’Nonetheless,ZachHerneywasgoingoutofhiswaytobe decent,andhecertainlydidn’thaveto.
‘MayIcallyouRachel?’Herneyasked.
‘Ofcourse.’ MayIcallyouZach?
‘Myoffice,’thePresidentsaid,usheringherthrough acarvedmapledoor.
TheofficeaboardAirForceOnecertainlywascozier thanitsWhiteHousecounterpart,butitsfurnishings stillcarriedanairofausterity.Thedeskwasmounded withpapers,andbehindithunganimposingoilpaintingofaclassic,three-mastedschoonerunderfullsail tryingtooutrunaragingstorm.Itseemedaperfect metaphorforZachHerney’spresidencyatthemoment.
ThePresidentofferedRacheloneofthethreeexecutivechairsfacinghisdesk.Shesat.Rachelexpectedhim tositbehindhisdesk,butinsteadhepulledoneofthe chairsupandsatnexttoher.
Equalfooting ,sherealized. Themasterofrapport.
‘Well,Rachel,’Herneysaid,sighingtiredlyashe settledintohischair.‘Iimagineyou’vegottobepretty
damnedconfusedtobesittinghererightnow,amI right?’
WhateverwasleftofRachel’sguardcrumbledaway withthecandorintheman’svoice.‘Actually,sir,I’m baffled.’
Herneylaughedoutloud.‘Terrific.It’snoteveryday IcanbafflesomeonefromtheNRO.’
‘It’snoteverydaysomeonefromtheNROisinvited aboardAirForceOnebyaPresidentinhikingboots.’
ThePresidentlaughedagain.
Aquietrapontheofficedoorannouncedthearrival ofcoffee.Oneoftheflightcrewenteredwithasteamingpewterpotandtwopewtermugsonatray.Atthe President’sbidding,shelaidthetrayonthedeskand disappeared.
‘Creamandsugar?’thePresidentasked,standingup topour.
‘Cream,please.’Rachelsavoredthericharoma. The PresidentoftheUnitedStatesispersonallyservingmecoffee?
ZachHerneyhandedheraheavypewtermug. ‘AuthenticPaulRevere,’hesaid.‘Oneofthelittle luxuries.’
Rachelsippedthecoffee.Itwasthebestshehadever tasted.
‘Anyhow,’thePresidentsaid,pouringhimselfacup andsittingbackdown,‘I’vegotlimitedtimehere,so let’sgettobusiness.’ThePresidentploppedasugar cubeinhiscoffeeandgazedupather.‘IimagineBill PickeringwarnedyouthattheonlyreasonIwould wanttoseeyouwouldbetouseyoutomypolitical advantage?’
‘Actually,sir,that’s exactly whathesaid.’
ThePresidentchuckled.‘Alwaysthecynic.’
‘Sohe’swrong?’
‘Areyoukidding?’thePresidentlaughed.‘Bill Pickeringisneverwrong.He’sdead-onasusual.’
GabrielleAshegazedabsentlyoutthewindowof SenatorSexton’slimousineasitmovedthroughthe morningtraffictowardSexton’sofficebuilding.She wonderedhowthehellshehadarrivedatthispointin herlife.PersonalassistanttoSenatorSedgewickSexton. Thiswasexactlywhatshehadwanted,wasn’tit?
I’msittinginalimousinewiththenextPresidentofthe UnitedStates .
Gabriellestaredacrossthecar’splushinteriorat thesenator,whoseemedtobefarawayinhisown thoughts.Sheadmiredhishandsomefeaturesand perfectattire.Helookedpresidential.
GabriellehadfirstseenSextonspeakwhenshe wasapoli-scimajoratCornellUniversitythreeyears ago.Shewouldneverforgethowhiseyesprobedthe audience,asifsendingamessagedirectlytoher– trust me.AfterSexton’sspeech,Gabriellewaitedinlineto meethim.
‘GabrielleAshe,’thesenatorsaid,readinghername tag.‘Alovelynameforalovelyyoungwoman.’His eyeswerereassuring.
‘Thankyou,sir,’Gabriellereplied,feelingtheman’s strengthassheshookhishand.‘Iwasreallyimpressed byyourmessage.’
‘Gladtohearit!’Sextonthrustabusinesscardinto herhand.‘I’malwayslookingforbrightyoungminds
whosharemyvision.Whenyougetoutofschool,track medown.Mypeoplemayhaveajobforyou.’
Gabrielleopenedhermouthtothankhim,butthe senatorwasalreadyontothenextpersoninline. Nonetheless,inthemonthsthatfollowed,Gabrielle foundherselffollowingSexton’scareerontelevision. Shewatchedwithadmirationashespokeoutagainst biggovernmentspending–spearheadingbudget cuts,streamliningtheIRStoworkmoreeffectively, trimmingfatattheDEA,andevenabolishingredundantcivilserviceprograms.Then,whenthesenator’s wifediedsuddenlyinacarcrash,Gabriellewatched inaweasSextonsomehowturnedthenegativeinto apositive.Sextonroseabovehispersonalpainand declaredtotheworldthathewouldberunningforthe presidencyanddedicatingtheremainderofhispublic servicetohiswife’smemory.Gabrielledecidedright thenandtherethatshewantedtoworkcloselywith SenatorSexton’spresidentialcampaign.
Nowshehadgottenascloseasanyonecouldget.
Gabriellerecalledthenightshehadspentwith Sextoninhisplushoffice,andshecringed,tryingto blockouttheembarrassingimagesinhermind. What wasIthinking? Sheknewsheshouldhaveresisted, butsomehowshe’dfoundherselfunable.Sedgewick Sextonhadbeenanidolofhersforsolong...andto thinkhewanted her .
Thelimousinehitabump,jarringherthoughtsback tothepresent.
‘Youokay?’Sextonwaswatchinghernow. Gabrielleflashedahurriedsmile.‘Fine.’ ‘Youaren’tstillthinkingaboutthatdrudge,are you?’XX
Sheshrugged.‘I’mstillalittleworried,yeah.’
‘Forgetit.Thedrudgewasthebestthingthatever happenedtomycampaign.’
Adrudge,Gabriellehadlearnedthehardway,was thepoliticalequivalentofleakinginformationthatyour rivalusedapenisenlargerorsubscribedto StudMuffin magazine.Drudgingwasn’taglamoroustactic,but whenitpaidoff,itpaidoffbig.
Ofcourse,whenitbackfired...
Andbackfireithad.FortheWhiteHouse.Abouta monthago,thePresident’scampaignstaff,unsettledby theslippingpolls,haddecidedtogetaggressiveand leakastorytheysuspectedtobetrue–thatSenator Sextonhadengagedinanaffairwithhispersonal assistant,GabrielleAshe.UnfortunatelyfortheWhite House,therewasnohardevidence.SenatorSexton,a firmbelieverinthebestdefenseisastrongoffense, seizedthemomentforattack.Hecalledanationalpress conferencetoproclaimhisinnocenceandoutrage. I cannotbelieve,hesaid,gazingintothecameraswithpain inhiseyes, thatthePresidentwoulddishonormywife’s memorywiththesemaliciouslies.
SenatorSexton’sperformanceonTVwassoconvincingthatGabrielleherselfpracticallybelievedthey hadnotslepttogether.Seeinghoweffortlesslyhelied, GabriellerealizedthatSenatorSextonwasindeeda dangerousman.
Lately,althoughGabriellewascertainshewas backingthe strongest horseinthispresidentialrace,she hadbeguntoquestionwhethershewasbackingthe best horse.WorkingcloselywithSextonhadbeenan eye-openingexperience–akintoabehind-the-scenes tourofUniversalStudios,whereone’schildlikeawe overthemoviesissulliedbytherealizationthatHollywoodisn’tmagicafterall.
AlthoughGabrielle’sfaithinSexton’smessage remainedintact,shewasbeginningtoquestionthe messenger.
‘WhatIamabouttotellyou,Rachel,’thePresident said,‘isclassified‘‘UMBRA.’’Wellbeyondyourcurrent securityclearance.’
RachelfeltthewallsofAirForceOneclosingin aroundher.ThePresidenthadflownhertoWallops Island,invitedheronboardhisplane,pouredhercoffee, toldherflatoutthatheintendedtousehertopolitical advantageagainstherownfather,andnowhewas announcingheintendedtogiveherclassifiedinformationillegally.HoweveraffableZachHerneyappeared onthesurface,RachelSextonhadjustlearnedsomethingimportantabouthim.Thismantookcontrolina hurry.
‘Twoweeksago,’thePresidentsaid,lockingeyes withher,‘NASAmadeadiscovery.’
ThewordshungamomentintheairbeforeRachel couldprocessthem. ANASAdiscovery? Recentintelligenceupdateshadsuggestednothingoutofthe ordinarygoingonwiththespaceagency.Ofcourse, thesedaysa‘NASAdiscovery’usuallymeantrealizing they’dgrosslyunderbudgetedsomenewproject.
‘Beforewetalkfurther,’thePresidentsaid,‘I’dliketo knowifyoushareyourfather’scynicismoverspace exploration.’
Rachelresentedthecomment.‘Icertainlyhopeyou
didn’tcallmeheretoaskmetocontrolmyfather’s rantsagainstNASA.’
Helaughed.‘Hell,no.I’vebeenaroundtheSenate longenoughtoknowthat nobody controlsSedgewick Sexton.’
‘Myfatherisanopportunist,sir.Mostsuccessful politiciansare.AndunfortunatelyNASAhasmade itselfanopportunity.’TherecentstringofNASAerrors hadbeensounbearablethatoneeitherhadtolaughor cry–satellitesthatdisintegratedinorbit,spaceprobes thatnevercalledhome,theInternationalSpaceStation budgetrisingtenfoldandmembercountriesbailingout likeratsfromasinkingship.Billionswerebeinglost, andSenatorSextonwasridingitlikeawave–awave thatseemeddestinedtocarryhimtotheshoresof1600 PennsylvaniaAvenue.
‘Iwilladmit,’thePresidentcontinued,‘NASAhas beenawalkingdisasterarealately.EverytimeIturn around,theygivemeyetanotherreasontoslashtheir funding.’
Rachelsawheropeningforafootholdandtookit. ‘Andyet,sir,didn’tIjustreadthatyoubailedthemout lastweekwithanotherthreemillioninemergency fundingtokeepthemsolvent?’
ThePresidentchuckled.‘Yourfatherwaspleased withthatone,wasn’the?’
‘Nothinglikesendingammunitiontoyourexecutioner.’
‘Didyouhearhimon Nightline? ‘‘ZachHerneyisa spaceaddict,andthetaxpayersarefundinghishabit.’’’ ‘Butyoukeepprovinghimright,sir.’
Herneynodded.‘ImakeitnosecretthatI’man enormousfanofNASA.Ialwayshavebeen.Iwasa childofthespacerace–Sputnik,JohnGlenn,Apollo11