The president turned to Linda, whose scowl told him just how much she disliked the direction of the conversation. “Linda, I wouldn't ask if we didn't think we faced an emergency. All I need is for Fritz to open it and then stand back. I suppose George could end up being the biggest problem, but I will deal with that. We could commandeer the school, but that would be a tad too public. So I just have to sell him on the importance. I'm sure he will agree.”
“Mr. President, pardon me, but who's George?” asked Dr. Barclay.
Ashley responded quickly. “He's the principal at Riverboro High School. Our commander-in-chief.” His eyes twinkled.
Fritz said, “He'll do it for some kind of quid pro quo. That's how George operates. So, have you got any other surprises?”
The president said, “We've discussed a possible intervention in a hijacking or even a problem on the space station. We would have to be exact with the coordinates or the portal would open in thin air, literally. Or no air. But we don't need to talk about that now.” The president paused. “Fritz, none of this conversation matters unless you're willing to be part of the team.” Fritz sat up and took a deep breath, tilted his head, and met the president's eyes. “Sorry,” said the president. “Sometimes I get too rah-rah. I know I don't need to do that with you. I'll save it for George.”
Linda said, “And you only want him to open the portal?”
“Linda, the only other thing we would ask is that Fritz works with the commanders or leaders of the projects so we can coordinate details. If the paperclips are in the wrong places, we could have a mess on our hands. And our guys have to know how to get out.”
“So you need a dry run into a safe area first?” Linda asked, hoping they had thought of it.
“If we use the portal, we'll be going into harm's way, no matter where. It has to be done right. But I'm not asking Fritz to go in. Just to help set it up.”
“Mr. President, I think you know that you've made a compelling case. My concern is how the portal gets used, because we will be changing the future's history. So far, the portal reaches backward in time and to other places at the same moment as when I walk through the portal, but who knows what damage we would do to events, or people, fifty or a hundred years from now.”
The president rested his chin on his left hand, brushed his lips with his index finger, and considered the serious man watching him. He had spent countless hours analyzing this concept. Does time travel change the future? Neither quick to answer nor glib in his chosen words, his answer would affect more than just his present audience. “Fritz, I've thought about that too. But consider this. What if, instead of damage, we improve the lives, the possibilities for people fifty or a hundred years from now? For those children you teach, for your new child? We can't guess which will happen, bad or good.”
Fritz listened with an ear tuned to politician-speak, processed the thoughtful answer, and glanced at Linda. Her almost imperceptible nod told him to keep going. “Mr. President, you mentioned guidelines last night. As you know, school began today. I haven't had a lot of time to think about this. I want to talk this over with Linda before I give you an answer. But you need to know that under no circumstances will I participate in activities that are obviously partisan or that are intended to kill people. I'll want a full briefing on any mission you want me to be involved in. And I am really worried about how many people will have to know. When we got involved, when you first came here, you said national security concerned you, not just the dangers to you and to me. The numbers are growing.” He waved both hands toward the other people in the room.
“Fritz, we came to address any questions or objections you might have,” said the president. “I expected you to speak to Linda privately, and I don't want you to make a decision right now if you feel pressured. But I do need to know soon. I've told you what our situation is. And it is important. You need to decide for yourselves if it's important enough.” He looked at Linda and back to Fritz.
“About your guidelines, you haven't asked anything unreasonable. As far as other people being involved, the portal has the highest level of security clearance. You'd be stunned at how seriously even the ambassador's children have been about keeping quiet. They tell their friends how cool the rescue helicopter ride was. Everyone will be sworn to secrecy. No written documents and no digital accounts of the portal's existence are permitted. I don't think there will be any leaks as long as we use it properly, but even if there are, who would believe it? It would just sound like a headline from the gutter press. You have a code name, by the way.”
“Can you tell me what it is?”
“Sure.” The president offered a gentle smile. “Friend.”
“Mr. President, thank you for respecting my position and our,” he glanced at Linda and Ashley, “intelligence. I want my help to mean something more than an easy way to make war. I'm a teacher, I study history, and I've seen politics too often erase the good that government is supposed to do.” He met the president eye to eye. “I'll have an answer for you soon.”
The president leaned forward, and Fritz could almost feel his brain signaling. “Fritz, we both know the portal is important. We've had this conversation before. So, thanks. How about we go have dinner?”
A RIVERBORO police cruiser stopped at the sight of the Suburbans and the group of agents milling around. The officer got out and opened his mouth wide when he recognized the man walking toward him. The president offered his hand. “Officer, this is a matter of security. You cannot mention this. If you need to report something, just say you checked and everything was fine. That way, it won't be necessary for us to be involved. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir. No problem, sir. Sorry, sir.”
“Thank you. Perhaps you might do one more thing for me.” The president didn't wait for a response. “We will load up now and proceed to a pub called The Mill. Are you familiar with it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you think you could lead us there, take the point? No siren, no lights?”
“Sure, it's only about five minutes from here, Mr. President. No problem.”
“What's your name, officer?”
“Jim Shaw, sir.”
“Good. Mr. Williams will give you more details. Thank you.”
While the president finished his conversation, Fritz and Tom Andrews stood by the waiting Suburbans. “Mr. President, Linda, Ashley and I will take my car and follow you. We'll have a chance to talk en route. You've put me in a difficult position.”
The president said, “You should be in my shoes.” They happily shared the joke, each knowing the other used the phrase often. The others left the house, and when Linda saw James, she greeted him with a hug.
“James! It's nice to see you again. Has your wife tried the lasagna recipe?”
“Hi, ma'am, sorry I mean Linda. Yes, we've had it a couple of times. She knows how much I like it.”
The Suburbans' doors were open and waiting. Officer Shaw stood at the driver's side of the police cruiser. Fritz signaled Ashley, took Linda's arm, and headed to his car. He backed out of the driveway, and the procession pulled away.
Fritz said, “What do you think?”
Ashley spoke first. “I'd rather go see Robert E. Lee.”
Linda said, “Fritz, I already know you're going to say it's okay. And you already know how I feel.” She glared at him. “I hope he keeps his promise, and your part will be really limited.”
“We needed to hear him out. He knows that I'll stop him if he goes too far,” Fritz said. “But unless you say absolutely not, I'll tell him I'm in. His real problem will be George. If the school is the staging point for this stuff, George could be a pain.”
Ashley leaned forward and asked, “Can I say something? When you told me the president would be coming tonight, I wondered what he would say. I didn't think he'd be so blunt. But they haven't figured it all out yet.”
“Speaking of figuring things out, how did things go with Sandy today?” Linda asked.
Fritz said, “He's burning bridges faster than the Germans blew up the ones crossing the Rhine.”
“Shut up. Let me tell it. Before we broke up, I told her I didn't think it was time yet to meet her parents. They're here this weekend. She's ignoring me.”
“And if you've broken up, what difference does that make? It sounds to me like you don't see this relationship as completely over.” Linda's hands rested on her hips, even as she sat. “Ashley, you are too old to play games, and Sandy isn't going to let you. You're not serious and never saw her as long term.”
“At least I was up front with her.”
“Ash, she's twenty-five years old and she wants to get married and have a family. She's attractive. She's smart, and she's not going to waste her time. So if you want her to stick around, it's up to you to decide what you want. I guess I'll have to get used to cooking for you again.” Then she told him their welcome sign always applied to him.
“We can't think about that now. I want to know if you've figured out what this Narian business is going to mean. I haven't got much of a clue.”
“Neither have I, Ash,” said Fritz. “Underground? Nuclear facilities? What else do we need to worry about?”
“What about the weather?” Ashley asked.
“We'll have to ask at dinner. If they want to do this soon, we better hope we have some thunderstorms soon.”
“Maybe they've figured something out. Tell you what. I'll sit with Dr. Barclay and talk with her about the weather.” Fritz saw the Cheshire Cat in the rearview.
“Lively dinner conversation, Ash. You'll thrill her, I'm sure,” Fritz said.
Linda said, “Weather, huh. Somehow, I'm not surprised. Hot air is your field of expertise.”
“That's a different story,” said Ashley.
Quantum Touch (Book 1): Storm Portal Page 24