by Stephen Cox
Mutely, she held out her wrists for the handcuffs, but he frowned. ‘That won’t be necessary. Mr Myers is already there. If we hurry you’ll have a few minutes together before the calls. The first call will be with George Hamilton Hunter.’
She couldn’t place the name, so he explained, ‘The President’s Chief of Staff, Mrs Myers. He’ll prepare you for the call from the President.’
She was ushered, still dazed, into a big room, and caught a glimpse of newspapers piled on the side table with headlines screaming Aliens, and Soviet Ultimatum.
Far more importantly, there was Gene, tired and ragged, but grinning widely at the sight of her. She flew into his arms, barely registering the bruises on his face. Hope began to burn and her eyes to prickle. His mouth to hers; the long kiss felt like water in a desert.
*
Gene and Molly sat beside the speaker, holding hands, and a few minutes later, a smooth Southern voice said, ‘Mr and Mrs Myers, good afternoon.’
Gene launched his attack. ‘We’ve been separated, my son has been kept chained like a dog and my pregnant wife has been drugged. We’ve been denied our constitutional right to a lawyer. So no, a pretty bad afternoon. How’s yours?’
There was no more than a second’s pause before the smooth voice said, ‘I’m appalled, Mr and Mrs Myers, truly, and the President will be shocked to hear this. Commander, on whose orders? There will need to be an investigation.’
The commander, looking stoic, said nothing.
The smooth voice said, ‘Commander, I want your assurance that by the time the President calls, this will have been rectified. Heads will roll. Did Dr Pfeiffer authorise this? I will need your preliminary report by seven a.m. tomorrow.’
‘Sir.’
‘The President . . .’ Gene started, but the Chief of Staff was speaking again.
‘Yes, Mr and Mrs Myers, this has gone badly wrong and the President wants to put it right.’
Gene gave a dismissive ‘Huh’, the Olympic Gold Medal for contempt.
The Chief of Staff went on, ‘We were thinking an immediate and unconditional Presidential pardon for you and all your friends – we could have that within a day. The Governor is on standby to resolve any tedious state legal issues. The full resources of the government will be put behind keeping your family and friends safe and out of the way of organised crime and the Russians and any other undesirables.’
‘What do you mean?’ Molly’s mind was still dragging.
‘Your little boy is very important, Mr and Mrs Myers, not just to your country, which I know you love as I do. I do indeed admire how you threw that disgusting Soviet offer back in their faces, ma’am. No, we need to think about the future of humanity, and that makes you, and all your kind and misguided friends, so very important. The President is keen to assure the American people you are happy and safe, all of you. So, Mr and Mrs Myers, the government’s chequebook is open. How can we make this happen?’
That was a long, amazing, sceptical conversation.
At last they were left alone and Gene hugged her close and whispered, ‘The President is an evil son of a bitch. We should hold out – he’s only doing this because he’s under pressure and he knows he can’t get away with it any longer.’
Molly had often fantasised about giving the President a piece of her mind: Seek peace, listen to the young and try to bring the country together. She had never dreamed she’d actually speak to him. And as for trusting him? Not an inch. And yet—
‘Maybe we should do the deal,’ she said. Half of her was screaming, No, no, no! but a calm certainty was growing in her.
‘We can’t trust him.’ Gene’s arm tightened around her shoulder.
‘No, but he won’t want all this going public. The chain, the drugs? So any time we’re not happy, we tell the public we were coerced – which we are being. We can go to Congress, Witness, the press. Cory, our family, our friends would all be safe. We owe it to them, Gene – and just imagine: no more running, no more hiding. Just us, together. We can be a family again.’
‘You notice they didn’t promise we could go home.’
‘They’ve been sending in troops to hold back crowds, so maybe, for a while, going home just isn’t possible.’ She hated saying those words, she longed for her house, but she had to be practical. ‘I can be happy as long as I’m with you and Cory.’
*
After the endless waiting, things suddenly started moving at breakneck speed. Gene and Molly were taken to Cory. They held him for what felt like hours but was only minutes before he was wriggling down and must-must-show guineee-pigs. The phone conversation with the President was formal and surprisingly short. The President dismissed Pfeiffer with a single sentence: ‘I asked for his resignation, which I received an hour ago.’
They met their friends for a late supper; the austere military canteen felt like a fine restaurant, sandwiches and soup better than champagne. Carol and Storm had already gone; Witness had need of their services. Heroic Roy was the first to come limping towards them, leaning on a stick – but Cory had found Chuck and Bonnie and the three were already in a huddle, and then Diane and Janice were hugging them . . .
Molly had told Gene the pregnancy must be a secret; things could go wrong and everyone said wait a few weeks, but holding her best friends, Molly couldn’t hold back. Their whoops of joy made every head turn.
‘They’re going to fly John and Eva directly to Washington from the hospital,’ Diane said, ‘and we’re following after you two leave.’
Seeing them all made Molly certain the deal was the right thing to do. Roy and Gene fulminated against the Administration and all its works, but she told them, Bid high, but settle.
And there was Dr Jarman, in an ironed shirt and a haircut, arm in arm with Rosa Pearce, who looked like the cat who’d got the cream. Helping with his research, my foot, Molly thought with a grin. The old rogue should make an honest woman of her. Rosa of all people deserved happiness.
Lars Olsen stumped over with his wife; turned out, placid Mrs Olsen had shot a soldier in the shoulder, defending their house. Within minutes, Lars had his thumbs in his belt-loops and was spinning some story about the day they were taken.
The next morning, the Myers spent two hours with three very expensive Manhattan lawyers, courtesy of Witness, before being put on board a private plane to take them to Washington, DC. Cory was bouncing with excitement, skipping and turning and waving his arms and crying, ‘Look-look-look!’ Gene had been entrusted with the guinea-pig cage, and two soldiers were loading unfamiliar suitcases.
A white-uniformed steward told Molly, ‘Ma’am, there’s a Dr Tyler on the runway with a message for you. He’s not authorised to get on the plane, but he says his orders are to hand you the message in person.’
‘Tell him and his creepy boss to go straight to hell,’ Molly said. Pfeiffer was the past, and soon he’d be far, far away.
As the plane taxied to the runway and took off, Molly looked out of the window, squeezing Gene’s hand. Heavens, she was going to appear before the world’s press.
‘They’ll need to find me a hairdresser,’ she said, touching her hated red locks. ‘I’m not appearing before the world’s press looking like Bootlegger Sal. And I haven’t got anything to wear.’
*
The hotel, a few miles outside the capital, was modern, all pale wood and glass, and entirely given over to the Myers and their protection. Molly barely noticed. Her palms were sweaty and she had to stop herself biting her nails. She was about to meet the most powerful man in the world and, of all things, she was still fretting about her outfit. What she wore today would define her in pictures for ever, like Jackie Kennedy, who’d chosen to wear pink on the day JFK was shot dead. Molly was already regretting the vanity of those new high-heeled pumps. A nurse’s best friend is a pair of comfortable flat shoes.
‘I don’t thin
k this dress is right.’
Gene chuckled. ‘You look great.’ He had thrown caution to the wind and let them dress him in a fashionable suit and he looked very fine. Cory was proudly sporting a Stars and Stripes bow tie and silver-and-blue starry-night suspenders that made her smile.
At last there was a hearty knock at the door and as Molly stood, nudging Cory to do the same, in came the President, flanked by big silent men exuding menace. The President looked awkward. He walked a bit like a puppet handled by an inexpert master and looked like two ulcers and no sleep.
The President said, ‘This is such a pleasure. Hotel all right? Comfortable journey? And here’s the real star of the show himself. Welcome to Earth, son.’
Cory shook hands with him nicely and they all sat down.
‘So, we’ll try to keep it short,’ said the President. ‘There are a hundred and thirty people in the ballroom, I’m afraid – we had to let some foreign journalists in. Then we’ll be off to the White House for lunch, followed by the photo-call with the Russians, Ambassador Rostov. To be honest, we’re hoping this will cool the Russkies down . . .’
‘No one wants a war,’ Molly said.
‘Rostov is bringing his own children. That will be nice, won’t it, Cory?’
Cory clapped. ‘Always happy meet new children. Then want to go-home Amber Grove.’
‘Well,’ the President said, but Cory was still talking.
‘Then go ice-fishing, see a whale and a walrus and a castle. Want to go-seeeside and on rollercoaster. And now Cory not a secret, want to go to school.’
The President gave Molly an adult-to-adult look. ‘Well, son, I guess we can think of all sorts of fun things to do. It’s just, going home just right now might be a mite complicated.’
‘School like home-planet with all the children together yes-yes,’ said Cory enthusiastically.
Molly smiled. She’d have to help him learn to be patient. But would this be their future? Would they always travel by private plane or motorcades, surrounded by armed men talking into radios? It would be so easy to kick back and let the awesome power of the government make everything soft and easy, like it was for the guinea pigs in their cage. She had only to express a wish and soft-spoken men would make it happen, utterly unlike any normal family.
The President’s fingers twitched. ‘I couldn’t sleep last night, thinking about space,’ he said. ‘How astounding it’ll be when his people come. I hope the whole world can stand together on that day.’
‘Mr President, it’s time,’ said one of the nameless men.
‘Anything you say will be fine,’ he said, laying an avuncular hand on Molly’s shoulder. ‘If they bring up the war, you say what you think. No one will expect anything different.’
Cory was nervous as they walked into the ballroom; she could feel little ripples around him. In her anxiety, the place looked as big as an ocean liner, and it was heaving with journalists, who rose in a wave of sound as the President arrived. They were ushered to a lectern on a dais, like some political meeting.
Molly looked for Carol and Storm, and there they were, grinning from the front row. Their price was an exclusive interview and photoshoot with the President. Molly wanted to hug them and thank them, but not here, not in public. Dozens of camera flashes dazzled her and she felt a touch of Cory’s power, something dark and hungry, washing over her.
Cory’s just a kid – how will his power change as he grows? There were some frowns in the front row, some twitches, and she squeezed Cory’s hand, sending comforting thoughts. The last thing she wanted was fifty stories about Cory making them feel weird. Cory looked up at her and back at Gene, holding his other hand, and his ears went to one notch short of truly happy.
‘Well, thank you all for coming,’ the President said, ignoring the collective snigger. ‘The Myers have kindly agreed to take a few questions, but first I’d like to say a few words.’
Cameras flashed and that sea of people stared at them, not the President. It was the Myers family they wanted and maybe that sapped the President’s words of any power or grace. Unprecedented and historic. Unique scientific opportunity. Delightful little boy. Strive for peace with all. The words passed over her like water.
The President frowned and skipped a page of the speech. ‘I know who you really want to hear from,’ he said, beckoning them over. ‘Mr and Mrs Myers, and Cory, everyone.’
Every hand was up. ‘Was it tough to be incarcerated?’ asked the first. Faces pulled in the President’s party.
They had a deal and the Myers wouldn’t be the ones to break it.
‘Well, it was really difficult for a while,’ Gene said. ‘We’re not pretending it was easy. But as soon as the President called and apologised, things happened fast enough . . .’
‘Has Dr Pfeiffer been sacked?’
Molly shrugged, too tired of the man even to gloat at his fall. ‘I’m not interested in Dr Pfeiffer. We just want to keep Cory safe and get him home. We just want a quiet life.’
‘What do you think of Earth, Cory?’
An aide brought the microphone down to Cory’s level and he burbled a few words in his own language while the cameras flashed endlessly. Then he switched to English. ‘I-am-Cory Myers nice to meet you-all. Earth very bea-ut-i-ful. Want to see every-where . . . I want to see every-where. All America, all world. Grand-Canyon and redwoods and Chicago and Ve-nice and jungles . . . Penguins and kangaroos. Australia very fine, and Alps.’
‘What’s your favourite sport, Cory?’
‘Dad like baseball, but Cory is not very good. Swimming, Cory much better than humans, and catch ball with friends, and jump rope . . .’
‘Well, my paper will happily take you to a Cubs match,’ said the journalist, which got a laugh.
Molly could feel the crowd warming to him.
‘Cory want to go to school with the human children, school sounds fun, everyone play-and-learn together. Pledge allegiance-liberty-and-justice-for-all.’
‘Do you plan to put him into an ordinary school, Mr Myers?’
‘Details to come,’ Gene said.
‘What’s the most different thing about Earth?’
Cory was reaching into his pocket. She’d told him not to read a poem and she tried to shake her head without being too obvious, but he ignored her. ‘Everyone listening?’ he asked and when people nodded, he started, ‘Cory has big plan help all-people.’
What?
He unfolded the piece of paper and launched into it. ‘All humans listen! No more fighting and war. Put all tanks and rockets and guns and bombs away. No more killing and hurting. No police with guns, make bad people sleep instead so no one hurt . . . Talking solve everything.’
The President tried to calm his expression and from somewhere in the room, there was a snort.
Cory took two deep breaths, as if he were going to swim deep under the water. ‘Earth bea-ut-iful but humans so much destroy forests and waters and poison fish oh-no! On my planet ancestors turn forests into horr-i-ble poison deserts until all-learn sense, all-decide must be different. Humans must learn now.’
‘Ah, Cory . . .’ said the most powerful man in the world.
‘All children plenty food and toys and get to school. Everyone help poor children with no parents, so-sad. Animals feel pain too. No more cruel farms . . .’
Molly saw the President make a gesture to someone in the wings and she squatted down by Cory, trying to stifle a horrified laugh. ‘Cory, sweetie-pie, another time perhaps . . .’
Cory didn’t smile but she felt his joy. ‘Everyone listening so now is good-good. My friend Bonnie say why not black-President or woman-President or black-woman President? Treat everyone fair, not difficult, like Constitution says. So much waste on bombs and guns and making people frightened. People hungry so feed them. Bring children of world to America summer camp here. Everyone should be f
riends . . . Russians, listen too! People want to leave so no walls, no fences, no men with guns. Let people sing in churches and synagogues if want. Grown-ups lying very bad . . .’
He took a deep breath and the President said quickly, ‘Well, Cory, here’s someone who’s very keen to meet you.’
And Mike Delgardo, the astronaut, in his uniform, was striding towards them across the stage, grinning.
Cory went tick-tick-tick with excitement.
‘Mr President, ma’am, sir. Cory. Not sure who’s more honoured.’
‘Mr Astronaut,’ said Cory, dropping his paper and holding out his hand. That was the photo on every front page.
The President had the microphone now. ‘We didn’t know if Mike could make it in time, but it’s swell he’s here. And thank you, Cory, for all those good things children want and need. We adults must put our heads together to figure out how to get there.’
‘Cory has ex-cellent plan,’ he said proudly, and when the crowd laughed again, Molly knew the many-headed beast of the press had been charmed.
‘Let me just make a few closing remarks.’ The President straightened his spine a little and spoke a few more words. They soon became part of his standard speech, trotted out to farmers and bankers and charity lunches alike, but right now they were rough-hewed and honest. You could tell this audience was really listening; the quality of the air changed. ‘Just as a house divided cannot stand, I believe a planet divided cannot stand either. Today, faced with the certainty that we are not alone, the whole human family lives in new times. Our Earth-bound enmities must change.’
As they walked off the stage, Delgardo winked and brought his mouth close to Molly’s ear. ‘Cory’s plan sounds good. I voted for the other guy.’
CHAPTER 44
Ship
In the Shed, Dr Haldeman looked out across the grey surface of Two Mile Lake, rippling in the wind. Empty cabins stood dark-windowed and lost among the swaying trees. The NASA scientist had a paper to write; now there was a possibility it might eventually be published. A small television set was on, but after the President’s press conference, he’d turned the sound off.