The Savants
Page 18
School buses were commandeered, and the closest U.S. Army personnel carriers were used to round up and transport the captured militia soldiers who had not made it into the cover of the woods. Finney ordered them to be escorted back to their headquarters, which would serve as a makeshift prison to house the marauding militia members. It took over a week, but most of them were captured and detained, either at the base in Brunswick or in county jails as they tried to return to their homes. Most, with the exception of the officers in charge, were eventually given amnesty by President Cooper, who later referred to them as “misguided, misled, and mistaken Americans.” As a special token, he treated them all to an IRS audit.
At the Beehive that day, President Cooper—along with James, Etta, Harvey, and Jeremy—returned to the house to check on Dr. Pevnick and his son. Douglas had been the first person to perceive that nature—or some cosmic being that rules the universe—had provided the special message about how to save the country, and Cooper was looking forward to thanking him, personally. But, as they entered the room, they found Dr. Pevnick still kneeling, holding his son’s now lifeless hand. Douglas, who had always appeared on the verge of a seizure, or locked in an agonizing grip by his pain, now appeared relaxed, a slight smile on his closed lips, his wracked body at ease.
“He came to,” said Pevnick, “just for a moment, and indicated he wanted to write something. You know, his hand started making that motion like before. When he finished…he seemed so at peace. Then, he closed his eyes and just…slipped away.” He handed a small sheet of paper to James. “I think this was meant for you.”
James scanned the boy’s note and smiled. “No, professor. It was actually for you. You see this symbol, here? That means father. And this one means son.”
Pevnick’s eyes welled up. “And, what about the other one, the third one, there?”
“Hmm,” said James thoughtfully. “That one is a little different. I haven’t written it in my Manti language, but it shares elements with other words I’ve written, or should I say discovered, in light of what we’ve learned recently. I think it means eternity.”
Pevnick smiled weakly, the skin around his eyes rubbed red, energy drained from him like blood. Exhausted, he laid his head on the edge of his son’s bed, and his breathing slowed.
Cooper placed his hands on Pevnick’s shoulders and kneaded them for a moment, their close friendship obvious and heartfelt. Then, the group left Pevnick alone to have some final time with his son, and found their way to the kitchen where Mrs. Brown was, once again making tea and cookies.
Mrs. Brown held up a warm tray to the group and within minutes its contents were reduced to crumbs. Even tiny Etta gorged ravenously on the cookies.
The room’s small television flashed a news report showing Vice President Proger being led out of his office in Washington, flanked by Secret Service agents in dark suits, their faces expressionless. Proger stopped to address the surrounding media.
Mrs. Brown said, “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. President. You probably don’t want to watch this.” She reached for the knob to turn it off.
“Are you kidding?” said Cooper. “Leave it on, please. I think I’m going to enjoy this.”
“This is a miscarriage of justice,” Proger snarled into the cameras. “America needed a strong leader and I was only trying to fill that role.”
One of the reporters pushed ahead and managed to get his question in. “How do you respond to the accusation that the reason America needed a strong leader was because you tried and failed to use a nuclear bomb that could have killed millions of people to levy a political coup?”
Cooper smiled, and said, “I like that guy.”
“It’s all conjecture…” Proger tried to go on, but one of the agents grabbed him by the back of a neck, like a prison guard pushing a prisoner back into his cell, and stuffed the Vice President into a waiting car, his hair mussed, his face indignant, as the agent said, “Oh, shut up.”
Cooper laughed. “I like him, too.”
The U.S. Attorney General, Richard Murphy, a handsome, polished-looking young man with a face that held promise, interrupted the crowd of reporters. “As your Attorney General, the President has tasked me with the investigation of this case of treason. We have substantial evidence showing the Vice President’s duplicity and involvement in this unprecedented act of domestic terrorism…”
Later that night, an exhausted Dr. Pevnick, and the savants, finished an incredible dinner that Mrs. Brown prepared for them. Pevnick glanced around at his unusual guests as they counted their clothes and bites of food; as Jeremy bent his fork into some sort of sculpture that mimicked a Brancusi; as Harvey read several books in between courses; as Etta and James slipped over to a piano in a dimly-lit corner of the room. They sat close together as James played Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major for her, and she laid her head on his shoulder. The scene and the music were so beautiful Pevnick had to leave the room, so no one could see him cry.
***
Two Days Later.
President Cooper held a press conference to answer post-crisis questions and acknowledge the help he received in mitigating the disaster. He was humble but strong, accompanied, once again, by Dr. Pevnick and the savants.
“Throughout American history,” he said, addressing the country, “there have been incidents of high treason, and while we like to think of ourselves as a civilized nation—indeed, a brotherhood—we are constantly reminded that we do not always hold the same ideologies. Those of us who hold the Constitution as the founding document of law must always be ready to defend it. We must always be on guard against not only foreign threats, but also those enemies who come from within, who would challenge our system of justice, our way of life. And we must, at times, look to the outside of what we ordinarily believe to be the only way to solve problems, to find new ways to move forward, ways none of us could possible conceive.”
He paused and looked up at the crowd, then back to Pevnick and the savants. “A couple of days ago, when I met with the press, I could not fully reveal to you, the citizens of this great nation, the extent or even the intent, of the crisis we were facing. It was on a scale beyond any of our notions, whether scientifically or politically, and beyond the scope of our knowledge in disaster preparedness. But, we all learned some hard lessons, especially myself. The lesson I learned was never to judge a book by its cover. Someone I thought was a friend and an advisor turned out to be a traitor of an unprecedented category in history. And a group of people I did not know nor admittedly, particularly believe in, gave me insight into not only what man can still do, but what faith can still do, if we hold onto it.
“Over the next few weeks and months, we will be offering economic aid to those persons who suffered from this act of domestic terrorism. We will be reinforcing our stateside troops and National Guard to protect us from future incidents, if they should occur, and we will, once again, increase our aid to the scientific community and the many wonderful possibilities it holds. For now, I want to thank this small group of people, these heroes.”
Cooper turned to the savants and held out his hand as each came up to be greeted and introduced. “Mr. James Tramwell, from England, one of our greatest allies; Mr. Harvey Peet, from Australia; Ms. Etta Kim, from Japan; Mr. Jeremy Clemens, from France; and last, but certainly not least, a true professional and close personal friend, Dr. Stephen Pevnick. Dr. Pevnick’s son, Douglas, may he rest in peace, was instrumental in helping mitigate this crisis and, quite possibly, opened up a whole new world of communication and understanding for those among us who may speak in a language beyond simple words. Thank you all for not only saving this great nation, but for restoring in me, and in those few lucky to know you, our faith in God and our belief in the impossible. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm reception to these extraordinary people.”
The crowd, a great many of them seasoned press people eager for a story, took a momentary pause from that commitment, and gave a generous offering of accolades.
Amidst the noise of celebration, one reporter was able to get to a microphone and belt out a question.
“This is a remarkable story, Mr. President. I’m sure we owe all of you a great debt. But, the world goes on, and disasters are occurring more and more often. We learned less than an hour ago, for instance, that a significant earthquake occurred in the Canary Islands. It’s believed it’s only a matter of days, if not hours, until a giant tsunami is produced in the sea off northwestern Africa that will threaten hundreds of thousands of lives. Will America be able to respond to another crisis and, if so, what can we possibly do to mitigate these disasters?”
Cooper began to respond to the young reporter’s question. He had been anticipating it, having heard about the impending crisis, but the truth was, he really had no answer.
James and the group had been standing off to one side after their introductions, meeting and greeting various members of the press and elected officials. But with the mention of future disasters, his ears perked up, and he stepped up to the microphone beside President Cooper.
“Do you mind, Mr. President?” he asked.
Cooper, surprised but trusting him, said, “Why…no, James.”
“I…uh,” began James, slowly at first, then gaining confidence, “I…sort of…anticipated the problem in the Canary Islands, and…well…I have an idea….”
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to all my beta readers: My wife, Lisa, always the first to read through my coffee-stained pages. Louis Lara, Kayla Van Mehren, Varsha Chandra, Sarah Salmela, Lisa MacMillan, Vanessa Van Sycle; thank you all for contributing your time and thoughts. To my editors: Dawn Scovill, Amy Lignor, and especially John and Shannon Raab—you are doing wonderful things for so many writers. Shannon, your art is unparalleled.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Patrick Kendrick is an award winning author of several thrillers, including: Papa’s Problem, a Florida Book Award and Hollywood Film Festival Award winner. Extended Family, which earned a starred review from Booklist. His newest crime thriller, Acoustic Shadows, was published by HarperCollins in June and is a Royal Palm Literary Award Finalist. The Savants, a sci-fi, political thriller is his first YA novel, and is published by Suspense Publishing. A former firefighter and freelance journalist, he lives in Florida close to the sea.
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Twitter: @authorkendrick
Web site: www.talesofpatrickkendrick.com