The Savants

by Patrick Kendrick

  The shock waves from the fallen wall and the destroyed sub rocked the crew of the Virginia as the ship bucked up and down, its metal exterior groaning with the added pressure and force. The ocean found every tiny crack in the hull and pushed its way in like a home invasion gang in the middle of a dark night. But, the crew stayed at their stations and went into immediate repair mode. Hydraulic gears shut down rooms where flooding threatened most. The quick reverse the commander had ordered before the blast helped pull the Virginia away from the same fate as the Tennessee.

  The crew was awash in sweat and blood. A quick assessment revealed no one had been killed, but several critical wounds were reported, and the ship’s med room filled quickly. The rest of the crew gathered their wits and returned to their stations, hearts and lungs pumping with fear and relief.

  “Command to Navigation,” said the commander. “You see anything?”

  There was a moment of silence while the navigator searched the sonar screen, looking for something, anything, then he answered, his voice cracking, “No, sir. The Tennessee…she’s gone, sir.”

  The commander looked around at his men. He knew he had to maintain morale any way he could. He summoned his own courage and addressed the ship. “Command to all stations. Give me damage reports and stay the course. We just saw what can happen if we get too close to that…thing. I’m not going to give you any BS, men. We might meet the same fate as the Tennessee. But, keep this in mind: we have a few million people on shore counting on us. If we go down, we need to make it count. No mistakes, gentlemen. Keep vigilant and, God willing, we might get out of this and save our country. That’s what we’re here for. Now, let’s do our job.”

  It wasn’t the Gettysburg Address, but the commander’s words bolstered the crew. Those who could, returned to work with new zeal and cautious optimism. And all of them muttered a prayer to whatever God would listen.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  At the Beehive, Dr. Pevnick gathered his research group—James, Harvey, Jeremy, and Etta—and seated them in the study, across the table from President Cooper. James had his laptop open and chewed on his cheek excitedly. He and Etta exchanged furtive glances, but both knew the seriousness of the situation and tried to abate their growing interest in each other.

  “Thank you for your time again, Mr. President,” said Pevnick. “I know how busy you are right now, but James and, well, his think-tank here, want to present an idea to you.”

  President Cooper looked exhausted. Wearily, he said, “Okay. But, it will have to be brief. We’ve had submarines working all night, with some success. But we lost one, the Tennessee, about an hour ago. The Vice President has gone against me on my, excuse me, our plan, and he’s persuaded more than half of Congress to side with him. He’s also initiated an evacuation we were completely unprepared for, and the result has been utter chaos. In short, when I go on camera in…,” he looked at his watch, “fifteen minutes, I have to convince the nation, perhaps the world, that I have not gone mad…nor abandoned them in their time of need.”

  James frowned at him. “You said you had ‘some’ success, Mr. President. What do you mean?”

  “Well, the Navy tells me they think they’ve reduced the size of the shelf, perhaps as much as twenty to thirty percent.”

  James stared at the ceiling while he did some lightning calculations, his fingertips tapping against his thumbs as he counted wordlessly. “If those numbers are correct, even the minimal twenty percent figure, you have already reduced the mass and so, the inertia and impact of the force…”

  “In layman’s terms, James…?” Cooper pleaded.

  “You’ve already saved Florida and New York and all of the states north of Connecticut. In other words, millions of lives, sir.”

  Cooper looked stunned for a moment. He glanced around the table. Etta nodded and smiled, just a little. Jeremy gave a huge, toothy smile and snorted.

  “Sounds about…cuss…cuss…right to me,” said Harvey, grinning.

  “That’s wonderful news,” said Cooper, genuinely pleased. “If we’ve done nothing else here, we can at least count that as a success. I pray I can count on your estimates. I have to tell America some positive news and explain why we’ve taken the direction we have.”

  “It’s a relatively accurate estimate, sir,” James assured, “if the Navy estimate of twenty percent is even close.”

  “Thank you, James. Now, I should be going…I have to coordinate the evacuation of those states still in harm’s way. People will need time to prepare.”

  James looked at Dr. Pevnick as if willing him to say something.

  “Er, uh, Mr. President,” said Pevnick. “The group has a theory they need to talk to you about.”

  Cooper had stood, but paused. “Go ahead, be brief.”

  “All right,” said James. “I’ve been evaluating our…situation as I’ve been trying to find other solutions. Analyzing the abilities of the submarines for our current objectives, we came across several pieces of news that Harvey thinks are related. You know, I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “Go on,” said Cooper, perplexed.

  James turned his laptop around so the President could see the screen. “You knew a man named Guy McAllister, didn’t you, sir?”

  “Yes, I know Guy. I haven’t seen him in a couple years, since he retired from the CIA. Was a nautical specialist.”

  James showed him a picture of a burned shell of a car. “Harvey, would you explain your theory to the President?”

  “Of course,” said Harvey, suddenly animated. “I can’t just sit here looking fabulous. Er, uh, McAllister was incinerated in a car explosion a few days ago.”

  Cooper frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. I…”

  James hit a few more keys on the laptop and produced another picture. This one showed a body lying on the front porch of a home with a blanket covering it and several policemen gathered around.

  “Former Admiral Anthony Johnson,” said Harvey. “Shot in the head when he went to get his mail, also just a few days ago.”

  Before Cooper could comment, James produced an Internet headline from a newspaper featuring a grainy picture of the outside of a bar in Maine, its windows spider webbed with bullet holes. He nodded to Harvey to continue.

  “Several merchant seamen were gunned…damn, damn…cuss…down in a bar in Maine. It was reported yesterday.”

  Cooper looked to Pevnick as if wanting him to explain.

  “Please listen to him, sir,” said Pevnick. “This may be very important. At the very least, I think Homeland Security Director Finney should be made aware of these circumstances.”

  “Please, continue,” said Cooper, sitting back down.

  “A few years ago,” said Harvey, “when McAllister retired from the CIA, he wrote a book about several nuclear devices the U.S. government had misplaced and offered some solutions to recovering them. One such device was the bomb off of ta…ta…cuss…Tybee Island, Georgia. In fact, at one point McAllister said he could, for the price of one million dollars, recover this device saying, in his own words: ‘A small, private, but sophisticated submarine and a group of sailors, maybe five or six in number…’”

  Cooper’s mouth hung open as his astonishment grew.

  “The seamen who were gunned down worked for a private submarine manufacturer in Maine, called Nemo Enterprises. Former Admiral Johnson had taken on contract work, as a private commander, also with Nemo. And this is what clinches it: McAllister was paid the sum of one million dollars as a contractor to Nemo.”

  “What are you saying, Harvey?” Cooper asked. “That these men are responsible for detonating the nuclear bomb off Cape Hatteras?”

  “I cannot…damn…cuss…cuss…draw that conclusion from my evidence, nor is that my particular concern. My purpose for telling you this is to prove…cuss…there was a conspiracy, and that this device did not accidently move itself a few hundred miles to the north, then accidently detonate.”

  “What other proo
f do you have of a conspiracy?”

  Harvey leaned forward and adjusted his smudged glasses. “Have you ever heard of a man named Aristotle Haufman?”

  Cooper shook his head. “Not that I can recall.”

  “The Vice President has. In fact, one of Mr. Proger’s oil companies, for which he served as a consultant and former chairman before being voted into office with you, issued a check in the amount of one million dollars to a shell company called Vestventures Incorporated, just a few weeks ago. Vestventures then hired a consultant, this Haufman character, who then funneled the money to Nemo in Maine and, bingo, McAllister ends up with a large deposit made to his bank account. You can guess how much. We, uh, kind of hacked into his account, sir. ”

  “One million dollars?” said Cooper.

  “Correct!” said Harvey. “And here’s another clincher: Haufman is the ad hoc General of a large contingent of militias throughout the Midwest. And, here’s the best part…”

  Harvey nodded to James to show the laptop again, so excited that he was squirming in his seat. James calmly turned the laptop around once more for Cooper to see. There was a picture of Vice President Proger and General Haufman, standing shoulder to shoulder, holding rifles proudly over the body of a slain buffalo. “Haufman and Proger are hunting buddies,” said Harvey. “Booyah!”

  Cooper rose angrily from his chair. He walked to the window in the room and looked outside, gripping his chin in thought. He watched as leagues of media people ran cables and set up satellite dishes, directed by the Secret Service, readying for the President’s announcement. He closed his eyes; the muscle in his jaw flexed.

  “One other thing, Mr. President,” said James. “One of the seamen who were gunned down is still alive. Maybe your people should talk to him…”

  “While they still can,” added Harvey. “And, I hate to be insensitive, Mr. President, but I would suggest you have your former Chief of Staff Ken Fontana’s body exhumed. It’s entirely possible he was murdered.”

  Cooper turned back from the window, a stunned look on his face. “What?”

  Harvey shrugged. “A young man in prime cardiovascular health, and he drops dead from a heart attack? Combined with the other elements of the Vice President’s betrayal, and this conspiracy to relocate and detonate the missing nuclear device, I think further investigation is warranted. Don’t you?”

  “I’ll have Director Finney debrief all of you, immediately,” the President said. “He’ll need to know everything you told me.” He looked around at the group. “Thank you…all of you. I know you’ve worked hard. Wish my own intelligence community worked as hard. Now, I have to go speak to the press. If you’ll excuse me…”

  James glared at Pevnick, prodding once again.

  “There is one other thing, sir,” said Pevnick.

  Agitated and anxious from the news and the circumstances, Cooper was visibly impatient. “Quickly, please.”

  “James has something else to ask you. James?”

  “Are you acquainted with the Starfire Project?”

  Cooper hesitated, pondering the question, before answering. “I, just recently became aware of it. I met one of the scientists who worked on the project a few days ago, when we first became aware of the nuclear detonation and the fault line problem. Let’s see, what was his name…?”

  “Was it Carl Edwards?” asked James.

  “Yes, I think that’s right. Why do you ask?”

  “I need to talk to him,” said James.

  “Of course. Arrange it with Director Finney. He’ll be here shortly. Now, I really have to go. We’ll talk more later.”

  “Good luck, sir,” said Pevnick.

  “Thanks, Stephen. I’ll need it.”

  After Cooper left the room, Pevnick raised a question. “Why didn’t you mention to the President why you want access to the Starfire Project, James?”

  Etta had been silently observing the conversation. She straightened and cleared her throat.

  “Be…cause,” she began, hesitantly, almost startling the group, “because he could not handle the truth…right now.”

  “Do you think it will be any better later?” asked Pevnick, finding himself somewhat amused that Etta had spoken up on her own.

  “Professor,” she went on, “he just learned that the man he chose to be his second is, in fact, a traitor and conspirator. An enemy. Perhaps even a terrorist. We should not burden him with anymore right now.”

  Pevnick smiled benevolently at her. “I thought I was supposed to be the psych doctor here.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze.

  “Jeremy,” said James. “How is your project coming?”

  “My new toy? Ees Magnifique! Eet just needs zee power.”

  James nodded. “I’m working on that. I still need…a few more answers.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  A dais and podium had been set up in front of the research facility, making it look like any other press conference that might occur in the Rose Garden at the White House. Only, this conference would be almost feverishly viewed by millions of people unsure if they’d be alive by the end of the week—perhaps the end of the day. They needed assurance that someone would save them, their loved ones, and their homes. President Cooper knew the gravity of his address as he stepped up to the row of microphones. Dr. Pevnick watched from the sidelines, wondering how the man would find the courage to do what needed to be done.

  “I’m going to make a statement,” the President began, “then I’ll answer a few pertinent questions. I don’t have time for soap opera innuendo or unsubstantiated inferences.” Cooper paused, looking into each camera pointed at him.

  “A few days ago, we learned of a catastrophic failure of the continental shelf off Cape Hatteras, North Carolina. As you are undoubtedly aware, a nuclear device was detonated, creating an unstable fault line. I now have reason to believe this device was set off intentionally and is possibly the result of a domestic terrorist scheme. We—myself, Homeland Security Director Finney and the appropriate departments under his direction, and those Congressmen who are loyal to America and able to discern right from wrong—will handle this crisis, along with the help of our armed forces. Even now, the Navy has a fleet of submarines performing mitigation efforts along the Carolina fault line. Unfortunately, one of those submarines has already made the ultimate sacrifice. God bless their souls. But, I promise, this country will be made safe. For the past forty-eight hours, I have been working diligently with the best minds in the world. We have made significant progress, and I can say, now, that many of the eastern seaboard states are no longer in peril. New York and most of New England are not in danger. Florida appears to be safe at this time, as well, and I am urging citizens in these states to remain home, and do not attempt to self-evacuate.

  “That said,” he continued, “at 3:00pm today, Eastern Standard Time, we will begin evacuating, to a safe distance of approximately fifty miles inland, the following states: Georgia, North and South Carolina, Virginia and the Washington, D.C., area, Delaware, Maryland, and New Jersey. This is a precaution only at this point. We will have fuel and food stores along designated evacuation routes. Temporary shelters will be established along the perimeter of the safe zone. Emergency funds will be available at these shelters. The National Guard and FEMA will be assisting this effort, along with some Army regulars. Our neighbors, Canada and Mexico, and partners from all across the world, the United Kingdom, France, Italy, and our allies in Eastern Europe are sending soldiers and assistance in an unprecedented relief effort. I am…”

  Cooper paused, emotion creeping into his voice, and looked around at the army of multi-national reporters and cameras.

  “I am overwhelmed by the positive response offered to the United States to assist with this disaster. And, I am humbled. But, I am also fortified and resilient that we stand together and be ever vigilant. Together, we will make it through this crisis. Now, I’ll answer a few questions.”

  Pevnick watched his friend, the leader of the
free world, and admired his strength. There really are only a few people who can do the job of President, he thought. The man didn’t even break a sweat.

  “Mr. President,” called out one of the reporters, “why have you been hiding, and why did the Vice President announce this pending disaster and advise evacuation?”

  Pevnick noticed the slightest twinge in the corner of Cooper’s eye, a tiny flash of anger he quickly brought under control.

  “The question about being ‘in hiding’ is one of those soap opera questions I warned you about. I have not been in hiding. I have worked non-stop, gathering all the information and formulating a plan before announcing we had a crisis. The Vice President did not act appropriately when I requested he handle a press conference for me while I addressed mitigation solutions. Nor did he act appropriately when he asked for my impeachment during one of the most challenging crises we have ever faced. If American citizens want me removed from office, then I will step down. But, while I am still President, I am going to do everything in my power to protect this great nation. As for the evacuation the Vice President called for, it has caused more problems than it has helped, and was, in many areas, not necessary. It was unplanned, and there have been numerous casualties and unparalleled chaos as a result, particularly in Florida and New York, where the evacuation, we now know, was not needed.”

  “Sounds like you’re not on the same page with Vice President Proger,” said another reporter.

  “Same page?” said Cooper, almost growling. “We’re not even reading the same book. That’s all I’ll say on that matter until this crisis is resolved.”

  Another reporter, one who was trying to make a name for himself by provocation, blurted: “Sir, you mentioned you were working with the best minds in the world. But, here you are, at a mental research facility, and it has been reported the people helping you are mentally retarded or somehow challenged.”