Nick wasn’t sure how to take that news. Arnold Gogh was the President’s first choice for Nick’s job. In fact he held the post for two years. The President had been friends with Gogh when they were both faculty at the University of Michigan. It was a strange friendship—Gogh the physicist and McIntyre the political scientist—a rapport based on compatible political beliefs. When McIntyre left academia for the state legislature Gogh stayed with the university, but he was never really out of touch or influence.
When the Democrats had splintered, McIntyre had coined the name Neodemocrat for the new party. When he ran for the Senate, Gogh took a leave of absence and managed his campaign. When McIntyre ran for the presidency as the Neodemocratic nominee, Gogh was an integral part of the successful campaign. To everyone’s surprise he turned down chief of staff; that position went to Elizabeth Hawthorne. Instead, Gogh sought the position of science advisor and then reshaped it in his own image.
He would still be science advisor if it hadn’t been for Gogh’s penchant for young girls, recorded on video. Gogh had to plea-bargain himself out of jail, and the position of science advisor fell to Nick.
Nick had a reputation as a popularizer of science. His award-winning public television productions brought the mysteries of the galaxy, the seas, and the animal world to everyday people in a way they could understand. Nick’s success made him popular with the public, and with politicians, but his reputation as a scientist had suffered. He was no longer a purist. He no longer published in obscure journals that even the specialists ignored. He’d dropped out of the great grant race.
But now he could pursue his first love—all sciences—and it was a trade he rarely regretted. So he produced the television specials, delivered the talks, and served as a liaison between the President and the sciences.
Nick knew that Gogh’s presence did not mean McIntyre’s lack of trust in Nick. Gogh was part of the President’s emotional support network, and with the first lady out of town, Nick assumed President McIntyre might be using Gogh as a surrogate partner. However, Gogh would diminish Nick’s influence.
Nick watched Elizabeth walk back to the door and take up an observation post. She was an unusual woman. Not that she wasn’t a fine-looking woman. Her hair was silky. Her skin was flawless. Her rarely used smile dazzled, and her figure was made for snuggling up to. But she never posted signs that she was willing or even interested. Elizabeth was carbon monoxide, odorless and colorless. Nick had no doubt she was just as deadly.
Nick found the files on the desk just where Elizabeth had said they would be. They were easy to find, since the desk was bare except for one folder.
The first report, about the New York situation, gave Nick a sick feeling of déjà vu. It wasn’t a report about a blackout. The report clearly stated that part of New York City had disappeared. Nick had trouble reading because he kept thinking about the talk show. Three of the callers had said something about things missing. Portland, Oregon, a farm in Iowa, and what had that first caller said? Something about a candle factory buried in snow? What was going on? Nick flipped through the reports. None of them mentioned Portland or anything in Iowa, but there were reports of blackouts, landslides, and bridge collapses. They were mostly from the East Coast and Midwest.
As he read Nick felt as if he had been jangled by an old-fashioned phone. The pounding in his chest built and his breathing quickened. He recognized the feeling fight away this time. It was fear again.
18. The Meadow
The wonders of this age cannot compare to the wonders of the age of no time. In that age we will surely know from whence we came.
—Zorastrus, Prophet of Babylon
New York City
PostQuilt: Sunday, 7:07 A.M. EST
It was coming across the meadow slowly, pausing frequently to get down on all fours with its head in the grass. Then it stood, rising on its two bigger back legs until it towered above the meadow, looking around defensively. It was eating the grasses at a leisurely pace, more interested in food than speed. Mariel was both afraid and excited when she realized it was eating its way toward her window. She watched the huge beast come closer, and with each giant step, the beast loomed larger. First she thought it was the size of an elephant, but now she could see it was bigger. Much bigger.
Filled with new excitement, Mariel knew it was a dinosaur. She was excited and scared at the same time. Her old eyes could finally see it clearly. Grass hung from both sides of its mouth, and it stared at Mariel’s building and the other buildings bordering its meadow. From the curiosity she saw in those eyes, she knew this was an intelligent animal. You could tell intelligence by the eyes. In people, too.
Mariel was watching it stuff its mouth with grass again when someone started pounding on the door. She shouted for whoever it was to go away, but the pounding only sounded louder.
Luis was at the door, and she opened it to find him carrying his little girl, Melinda holding the baby, and the other three kids hanging on to Mom, sleepy and confused.
“Mrs. Weatherby, it’s time to go. I’m getting my family out. You come with us!”
“Luis, I told you—”
“Mrs. Weatherby, have you seen what’s out your window?”
“Yes, Luis. I know what’s out there. That’s another good reason to stay.”
Melinda stepped forward and pleaded. “Mrs. Weatherby, it’s too dangerous to stay. We should’ve gotten out when the buildings disappeared. I mean, that shouldn’t happen. Everyone’s getting out. The Kaplans and Greccos are gone. Mr. Moreno left an hour ago.”
“The McGregors?”
“I don’t know,” Melinda replied. “I think so.”
Mariel didn’t like the idea of being in the building alone. If the gangs knew her building was empty they might see it as an irresistible opportunity. She wavered but then shored up her resolve. She hadn’t felt so alive in years and wasn’t going to be scared out of that feeling.
But Melinda wasn’t ready to give up. “That’s a dinosaur, Mrs. Weatherby. It could eat you.”
“It’s eating grass, dear. Thanks so much for your concern. I’m just fine here in my home.”
Luis started to argue with her again but Melinda cut him off.
“Luis, the kids. We’ve got to get them out of here.”
Luis looked down and then nodded his head.
“We’re going, Mrs. Weatherby. I’ve got to for my kids. If I can, I’ll be back for you.”
“Luis, really, I’ll be all right.”
“If I can, I’m coming back.”
Mariel watched the Ibarra family go down the hall to the stairs and then they were gone. She listened to the building. It sounded empty and unfamiliar.
Mariel talked to herself on the way back to the window to fill the emptiness. “Ask me to leave my home? Well, thank you very much but I’ll leave when they carry me out.” When Mariel reached the window she immediately forgot her fears, for the dinosaur was much closer now, and it was magnificent.
It was as tall as the McGregors’ window below her. It walked on its two massive hind legs and had two powerful forelegs. Its three-toed feet were each tipped with long curving claws. Its forepaws resembled human hands with four massive fingers and a thumb on each hand. The fingers ended in curved claws, but the thumb was tipped by a large spike. The skin looked thick and leathery, mottled green and brown. The dinosaur’s shoulders were wide, and its thick neck narrowed toward the head, which was mostly jaw. Its dark, deep-set eyes blinked, and two nostrils were set in the tip of its nose. Ridges ran the length of its spine and down its tail which dragged behind.
What kind of dinosaur was this? Mariel wondered. Then she remembered a book she must still have. Looking out the window again to make sure the dinosaur was content eating grass, she took her flashlight down the hall to the bedroom she used for storage. In the closet were old toys and books from when the kids were little. When the grandkids visited she pulled out the old toys and watched them, recalling her own children, spinn
ing the top, cranking the jack-in-the-box, and building with blocks.
But the grandkids were older now, and seldom visited. Mariel felt a twinge of sadness as she pushed the toys aside and dug into the piles of books. Near the bottom of the corner pile she found The Children’s Book of Dinosaurs. Mariel took it back to her chair, nearly breathless from the exertion and her fear that the dinosaur might have left.
Outside, the dinosaur was even nearer now, still eating; it seemed to have an endless appetite for meadow salad. Mariel flipped through the pages trying to identify her dinosaur. She found pictures of the three-horned triceratops, the long-necked apatosaurus, and heavily armored stegosaurus. But none of them resembled hers. Mariel paused when she came to the allosaurus. The picture showed it walking on two legs, but its head was much bigger than her dinosaur, and it didn’t have the thumb spikes. Mariel also rejected the tyrannosaurus. Its head was too big and its arms too small and shriveled looking. Besides, the allosaurus and the tyrannosaurus both had rows of long pointed teeth. Mariel’s dinosaur had none of those.
She continued to flip through the pages, pausing frequently to look out her window. Toward the back of the book she found a picture of an iguanodon and knew instantly this was her dinosaur. When she read the part describing its flat teeth she smiled and said, “I knew it, I knew it. You’re a vegetarian.”
Mariel sat watching the dinosaur, very pleased with herself. The other tenants had gone, scared of an overgrown cow. But she had stayed and how glad she was! An iguanodon. What a nice name for a dinosaur.
The iguanodon ate its way closer to Mariel’s building, clearly curious about the strange structure. She could see even more details now. Its skin was a mass of wrinkles and reminded her of the hide of an alligator, except thicker. When it stood to eat it rose eighteen feet into the air.
Later in the morning Mariel took a break. She didn’t each much anymore. When there is no one to eat with, appetite diminishes. Mariel was in the kitchen buttering a muffin and wishing the microwave still worked. The kitchen window was too small for a good view, but Mariel kept glancing out. She was putting the muffin and juice on a tray when the view shocked her. The city was back.
Mariel leaned on the sink to stare out the kitchen window. The city was fuzzy and kind of shimmery, but it was there. Disbelieving, she wiped her glasses with the kitchen towel, but when she put them back on, the city was still there. But why was it so fuzzy? Then Mariel remembered the iguanodon and hurried back to the living room and boldly leaned out. It was there eating grass only a few steps from her building. Mariel looked into the distance. The city was there, but very fuzzy and growing dimmer. In a few minutes, as she watched, it faded away before her eyes.
She sat in her chair, confused. She was still trying to understand it all when she heard something hitting the side of her building. Mariel looked out her window to see the iguanodon right below her. It had crossed the last of the meadow and was now sniffing at the McGregors’ window. She smiled with delight. It was so ugly it was beautiful. She kept back from the window, peeking over the edge, not wanting to scare it away.
The dinosaur’s head ducked and rooted around and came up with a mouthful of flowers. Mariel laughed at the sight of the colorful meal, and then her face fell. It was eating her flower garden. The flowers were already half gone. Furious, she screamed out the window, “You get out of my garden! I mean it. Get back in the meadow where you belong.”
The iguanodon turned up its big head, looking at Mariel. The intelligent eyes showed no fear, only curiosity. Mariel screamed at the dinosaur again, but it dropped its head defiantly and pulled up another third of the flower garden. Mariel pulled back, looking for something to drop on the dinosaur. She couldn’t sacrifice anything precious from her past, so she grabbed a throw pillow, and dropped it. The pillow fell straight and bounced off the dinosaur’s head, landing next to the garden. The dinosaur didn’t flinch or move. It just sniffed the pillow and then turned away.
Now Marie! was even angrier. She had wasted one of her favorite pillows and hadn’t even got the animal’s attention. She needed something heavier. Mariel walked through her apartment looking for something unimportant. In the kitchen she picked up a cast-iron frying pan, then put it down. She didn’t want to hurt the creature, only move it. For that reason, she also rejected the idea of canned goods, or jars. Finally Mariel found a five-pound bag of flour in her pantry and carried it to the window. Then she returned for a five-pound bag of sugar. As she leaned out the window, she saw the iguanodon still below her, ripping out more of her flowers. Mariel picked up the flour in both hands, leaned out the window, aimed carefully, and dropped it. This time the iguanodon reacted, flinching when the bag hit and then cringing when the flour cloud enveloped its head. It stood frozen, watching the flour fall. Mariel held her ground when it turned its flour-covered head up and stared at her, then stretched itself to its full height. When its mouth opened and it hissed at her, Marie! stepped back— it sounded like a giant snake and Mariel hated snakes. She screwed up her courage again and picked up the sugar. The dinosaur’s head stretched up at her, its mouth opening to reveal double rows of grinding molars. When another hiss started, Mariel held the sugar out the window and let it go. The full bag fell down into the gaping mouth, hitting the thick tongue and bursting open, the sugar spilling over the tongue and pallet and down the throat. Suddenly, the dinosaur jerked its head back and snapped its mouth closed. Mariel could see surprise in its eyes and congratulated herself. Yes, surprise was another sign of intelligence.
The dinosaur shook its head, then opened and closed its mouth a few times, making a smacking sound. Mariel could see the tongue moving in and out. The dinosaur put its head down and sniffed at the garden and the pillow, and then its head came up and it sniffed at Mariel. As she watched, its mouth came open and it hissed again. The dinosaur seemed to want more sugar. Its hiss was turning into an “aaaahhh” sound. It was almost cute. Mariel went to her pantry and dug out the sugar she had opened yesterday for the Sugar cookies the Ibarras were now enjoying. Back at the window, the dinosaur was looking around, but as soon as it saw Mariel its head went up, and its mouth came open, and it emitted a loud “aaaaah.” Mariel turned the bag upside down and poured the sugar into the dinosaur’s mouth. Swallowing, it snapped its jaws closed and began smacking its lips. It looked around again and then opened its mouth and made its sound.
“Oh my, what have I done?” Mariel asked herself “I never thought you would have a sweet tooth.”
Mariel didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t keep feeding it sugar, but she didn’t want it to go away. She was about to get another bag of sugar when the sound of an air horn split the meadow. The dinosaur spun, its tail slamming into Mariel’s building. She felt the vibrations. The horn sounded again, followed by the sounds of gunfire.
Now the iguanodon trotted back across the meadow, watching for the source of the sound as it went. Again the horn sounded. More gunfire popped. Mariel looked left and saw another dinosaur running on four legs in the distance, but it was too far away for her to see clearly. The iguanodon receded into the meadow.
Mariel sat back in her chair, feeling sad and lonely again. Her life had gone from dull routine to exciting and frightening and back to dull in a matter of hours. She rocked in her chair and looked out her window. She craved excitement like the dinosaur craved sugar. Reaching over, she turned on her radio and picked up her crocheting. She smiled to herself. Mr. Iguanodon would remember the sugar, and when its sweet tooth started calling it would come home to her, and she would be there.
19. Security Council
If there is a common denominator among these strange falls from the sky, it is the disruption of electric power. Such failures have not been explained by engineers.
—Constance Jones, Fortiology and the Modern Age
Washington, D.C. PostQuilt: Sunday, 7:50 A.M. EST
The Security Council met in the basement of the White House in the Situation Room, bright
ly lit with banks of fluorescent bulbs built into the ceiling. Nick had seen operating rooms with less light. A table held doughnuts, coffee, and orange juice. The orange juice was untouched, but the coffee pots had already been refilled once. Nick helped himself to a cup.
Elizabeth’s chair was next to the President’s but pushed back so that she had to lean forward to whisper in his ear, which she did frequently. Nick did not have a regular seat, but Elizabeth motioned him to a chair near the far end of the rectangular table.
The meeting was about to begin when Dr. Gogh arrived. Under his arm he held a folder identical to the one Nick had received from Elizabeth. Expressions of surprise spread around the table, but Dr. Gogh sat down and immediately began poring over his notes. Nick noticed that Gogh’s seat was closer to the President’s than Nick’s.
Because the situation was treated as a military emergency, the CIA, NSA, and defense intelligence reports were at the top of the agenda. Nick’s report would be last. After making sure the armed forces were on full alert and that all SAC bombers were either in the air or on the flight line, the President began taking more detailed reports. The various intelligence reports all focused on the state of readiness of the U.S. armed forces and threat assessment. The immediate concern was the loss of the ELF system—the network of buried transmission lines that made up the extreme low frequency transmission system, designed to keep the nation’s fleet of nuclear submarines in contact with the military authorities. The loss of the system would mean dependence on less reliable and more vulnerable systems requiring the submarines to approach the surface to communicate via satellites. One of the naval aides estimated 30 percent of the ELF system was in terrain that was farmland and forest one minute, and arctic tundra the next. Like the others present, the President ignored the incredible changes in the terrain and focused on the relatively inconsequential loss of the communications system.
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