Chapter 21

  Dilemma

  Senator Rawlings couldn’t believe the news that Randy Perkins was dead. He’d just talked to him hours earlier and had been assured that everything was going just fine. And the way he was killed just boggled his mind. The thought of having to describe it to the President made him nauseous. He’d been honored when the President had come to him about the aliens. The President wanted to consult with the Congress on this matter but felt traditional channels were not appropriate under the circumstances. So he had selected him as a well-respected member of the Senate to be one of the few who would be told about the alien contact. He wished now the President had found somebody else. He called Jimmy Malone to see if he was available for a meeting with the President.

  “Did you hear about Randy?” Rawlings asked.

  “Yes. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “I thought this was a benign life-form who just wanted to live at peace out in the desert?”

  “That’s what I was told. But apparently they thought they were being attacked. Why in the God’s name was Randy going at one of the walls with a sledge hammer?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think I heard someone say he was gathering materials for an exhibit at the Death Valley Museum.”

  “We told him to leave the damn structure alone. What was he thinking?”

  “He wasn’t thinking, obviously.”

  “Shit!”

  “We should tell the President before he hears about it on the news.”

  “Okay, I’ll set up a meeting and get back to you with a time and place.”

  “Thanks.”

  Rawlings hung up the telephone and then started thinking about an appropriate response to the murder. There would be an FBI investigation, of course, but that wouldn’t lead anywhere since they’d be looking for a human being rather than an alien life-form. They’d have to tell the FBI to back off in the interest of national security. They’d object but what could they do if the President gave them a direct order. The telephone rang and he picked up.”

  “The presidential limousine will pick you up in twenty minutes. We can ride with the President on his way to Arlington National Cemetery for a funeral for an old friend.”

  “Okay, I’ll be out front.”

  Rawlings hung up and called his office to tell them he’d be in late. Then he freshened up, put on a coat and tie and went downstairs. The limousine was just pulling up. He felt exhilarated being driven around in the presidential limousine with people looking up and pointing at him. People respected power but they rarely appreciated the cost in terms of responsibility. The fate of the nation and maybe even the world lay in the hands of three mere mortals, yet nobody would ever know it unless they made the wrong decisions and the world spun out of control. His stomach tightened with the thought of it. The limousine stopped, Jimmy Malone got in and it sped off.

  “So, you got any bright ideas on how to handle this?” Rawlings asked.

  “A few, but I’m not claiming they’re brilliant. There aren’t a whole lot of options.”

  “What if we tell the aliens to get their damn people off our planet and take their benign life-form with them.”

  Malone laughed. “Good plan, except we signed a treaty and they have large space ships with unknown firepower. We can’t afford to piss them off.”

  Rawlings sighed. “It could be a bluff. We haven’t seen any demonstrations of their weaponry.”

  “I thought you agreed we needed their technology.”

  “I know.”

  “If we hadn’t taken it, the Soviet Union would have and then they would be the most powerful nation on Earth.”

  “Okay, I get it,” Rawlins conceded, “but that doesn’t solve our problem right now. Why can’t the aliens deal with this life-form themselves.”

  “They say all we have to do is back off, leave the area and everything will be fine.”

  “Right, but that’s not so easy with a free press and every religious fanatic in the country going ballistic over this cathedral rising in the desert.”

  The limousine arrived at the White House and the President got in. “Gentlemen.”

  “Mr. President,” Rawlings said. “Nice to see you.”

  “Yes, I bet.”

  Rawlins sighed.

  “So, what are we going to do about this latest fiasco?” the President asked as the limo pulled away.

  “Well, with two murder investigations underway I think this whole thing is in danger of blowing up in our faces. We have to get the FBI to back off in the interest of national security.”

  “Right, but if we do that how do we explain it to your colleagues in the Senate?”

  “They won’t like it, but I can assure them it’s a necessary move. Will you have a problem with the Attorney General?”

  “No. I can handle him.”

  “Mr. President,” Malone interjected. “How will you handle the press?”

  “What would you suggest?”

  “Well, with the very bizarre way each was killed I think you could suggest a crazed religious fanatic was responsible.”

  “Someone trying to make it look like the uplift was an act of God like Reverend Little claims,” the President mused.

  “Yes, exactly.”

  The President nodded. “Okay, but you better come up with a good explanation of how both murders took place.”

  “Right. That’s not going to be easy, but we’ll come up with something.”

  “What about the explosion at Death Valley Junction? The press is claiming it’s related to the Bat Mountain Uplift.”

  “What explosion?” Rawlings asked. “I hadn’t heard about that.”

  “It just happened a few hours ago. Three children claim their father, a deputy sheriff, brought a rock sample home from the Bat Mountain Site as a souvenir but it changed shape and color right in front of their eyes. When they woke up this morning all the doors and windows in the house were sealed with the same type of crystalline substance the rock was made of. The kids managed to escape through a bathroom window that hadn’t been fully sealed yet but the parents were left inside. The kids ran to neighbors for help, but just as the fire trucks and sheriff’s cars rolled up the house exploded.”

  “Oh, my God!” Rawlings exclaimed shaking his head in disbelief.

  Malone shrugged. “Well, it fits in with our crazed religious fanatic scenario.”

  The President laughed. “Yeah, it does if you can make the press believe any human being could pull all of this off.”

  “It will have to be a conspiracy,” Rawlings suggested. “One man couldn’t do all this.”

  “Yes,” Malone agreed. “We won’t name names but everyone will think it’s Reverend Little and he won’t object because it will just give him more publicity.”

  “That’s true,” the President agreed. “I’ve never seen a man who loves publicity, bad or good, the way he does. He’s addicted to it.”

  “There’s another problem,” Malone interjected.

  “What’s that?” the President asked frowning.

  “The guy who stumbled onto the Bat Mountain Site, Jack Carpenter, and the professor, George Palmer, who did the initial research there, they’ve been snooping around looking for the owners of Bat Mountain Corporation.”

  “Where did you come up with that name?” the President complained. “It sounds like something out of a comic book.”

  “I did,” Malone confessed. “There’s a mountain near the site called Bat Mountain so I thought it made sense.”

  The President shook his head. “Okay, so what’s the problem?”

  “They managed to find our straw man and followed him to the Bureau of Land Management.”

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding?” the President moaned. “What else can go wrong?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m afraid they may have figured out this is a CIA operation.”

  “Well, that can’t happen. I don’t care what you have to do, but this can’t le
ad back to the CIA.”

  Malone swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Make this go away, gentlemen. We’ve got too much at stake here,” the President said as the limousine pulled into Arlington National Cemetery. Malone and Rawlings got out at the gate and watched the limousine continue on its way up to the grave site.

  “What are we going to do about the explosion?” Rawlings asked.

  Malone thought about it. “I’ll make the call to the FBI Director and tell them the military is taking over the three investigations. I’ll tell him he can verify it with the President. You’ll have to get with General Thornton and brief him on the President’s wishes.”

  “Okay, I’ll get on it.”

  “I’ll take care of Carpenter and Palmer. I’ll send them a clear message to back off.”

  “What if they don’t?” Rawlings asked hesitantly.

  “Then, we’ll have to shut them up permanently,” Malone said coldly.

  Rawlings just stared at him for a moment and then nodded. Another limousine pulled up and he got in. On the ride back to his office he noticed his hands were shaking. “Shit,” he moaned. “If I live through this it will be a miracle.”

  “What was that?” the driver said.

  He looked up. “Oh, nothing. Just hurry up, I have things to do.”

  “Yes, sir,” the driver said and stepped on it.