Exodus (The Exodus Trilogy) (6 page)

“
I want them to have what we wasted. Freedom, to read what they want, and speak whatever is on their minds. To be the masters of their own destiny, not slaves to the will of a few. I want the true Constitution to come back to life. It cannot be done here. Not anymore. It would only destroy us in these few years that we have left. But there is a new world out there somewhere, and maybe this is a chance to start over. Maybe we don’t have to repeat the mistakes of the past.” He smiled again, and then offered his hand to Trevor. Trevor hesitated, and then took it slowly.

“
I’ll be in touch,” Thatcher said. Trevor stared after him, while confusing thoughts raced through his mind.

The phone rang at almost exactly nine thirty, on a Wednesday evening, while Ohio Senator
Joe Buchanan was having a late dinner with his wife in their home. He didn’t want to interrupt the meal, so he decided to ignore the call, and let it ring until it stopped. He didn’t give it a second thought, and resumed his conversation with his wife, Cecilia. Then it rang again, and this time it didn’t stop. Cecilia smiled fondly, and motioned for him to take it.

“
Come on, Joe, I know you’re wondering who it is. Just take it and be done with it.” A little annoyed at the caller, he got up and walked over to the sideboard, where he kept his phone. The number was hidden, but since he’d already gotten up, he decided to take the call anyway. He took his phone into his study and closed the door.

“
Yes,” he said, waiting for the caller to identify himself.

“
Senator,” the voice on the other end answered. It sounded vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite place it. So, he figured it had to be someone he knew from way back.

“
You may not remember me, but we worked together on the Stephenson bill, I guess it’s been about twenty years ago now … My name is Richard Thatcher. I was on the team of the late Senator Williamson back then.” Joe had to think hard for a second before it dawned upon him.

“
Yes, that’s right. I believe I heard your name mentioned a couple of years ago, though I can’t remember the occasion; you’re with the Energy Committee now, aren’t you? Still working behind the scenes?”

“
Well, I was for a while, before I started working for the Presidential Alternative Energy Initiative.” The PAEI had been former president Holloway’s green alibi, and had gotten a lot of support from environmentalist groups, although those within the inner circle and the PAEI managers knew it had nothing to do with environmentalism. It was yet another security measure, as Holloway had been just as obsessed with security as the current president. Of course, it did have an effect upon the dependency of fossil fuels, which was necessary, because the available sources were quickly dwindling, but there were secrets within secrets, and some suspected the ultimate goal was to develop entirely new classes of weapons, the kinds one could only find in fiction.

“
So, Mr. Thatcher, I remember you, and we did work together when we were both young men. What is it that you want from me now?” That was the usual Joe Buchanan; no time for bullshit, straight to the point, with only the minimum of niceties.

“
I need to know that you haven’t changed your views on the things we spoke of that evening, when we had gotten the bill passed, after dinner.” Joe knew exactly what Thatcher was talking about. He hadn’t talked about it since Seattle, though; it was not safe anymore. That kind of talk could both end his career and possibly put him behind bars, and he had no desire for either. Even so, his views in private had never changed.

“
I remember,” he said, not wanting to reveal anything more on the phone. These days, you never knew whether your phone was tapped; the government could do that, and regularly did, and it was legal; they didn’t even need a warrant or due cause.

“
Good. That’s very good to hear,” Thatcher said, and Joe could hear him breathe out, relaxing a bit more.

“
I need to talk to you. That’s all I can say for now, but you actually need to talk to me as well.” Buchanan wondered if that was really the case, but his curiosity had already taken over, so he agreed.

“
All right, when and where?” He could hear Thatcher’s low chuckle, and then his reply puzzled him.

“
Good-bye for now, I’ll be in touch.” Then he hung up the phone. The senator just stood there for a second, confused as to what just happened. The end of the conversation did nothing to relieve his curiosity, so he was deep in thought when he returned to the dinner table. His wife could easily see he was distracted.

“
Who was that, dear? What is it?” Joe just shook his head and waved it all away.

“
Just some old coworker. Seems they want to have some kind of reunion. He should know I don’t have time for such things.” He shrugged, while Cecilia laughed softly, handing him a cruet of warm gravy to revive his meal, which had turned cold.

“
Well, if you decide to go, I want to go too. We never go out just for fun anymore. It’s all politics these days. Maybe it would do us some good.” The senator nodded, while lost in thought. He remembered that conversation all those years ago, all too vividly. When they happened to touch upon the proposed revisions to the Constitution, and what that would mean. The things he’d said, and later regretted. Not because he didn’t mean those things, but because, even back then, they were such dangerous thoughts, to himself and everyone around him. The political climate had already turned, and his ideas of preserving the Constitution rather than revising it had already been deemed reactionary, and contrary to the development of a safe and secure society, free from the threat of terrorism and subversive elements. Now, he instinctively knew that what he was getting himself into would be very dangerous, so why was he all excited about it?

The next morning, as he was getting ready for work, his
tablet beeped twice, and he looked at the new message. It was from a hidden sender, and there were just two words: “Sakura Noon.” He chuckled softly. To most people the message would be cryptic, but to him it made perfect sense: location and time. Sakura had been a Sushi bar, although it hadn’t existed for over ten years. These days it was a rundown catering business. The time was a bit more elegant, as there had been a Japanese Noon, sort of a happy hour, with lower prices on everything. Japanese Noon would be at ten in the evening here. He deleted the message, kissed Cecilia good-bye, and went out to his car.

Winter was coming. It was one of those evenings when you could just smell it in the air. It was getting chilly fast, and
Joe had put on his dark blue coat and a green scarf to keep warm. He could see the place was closed, although there was a dim light in one of the windows, as if it came from a back room. The door was open, so he entered slowly. He’d been right about the light, it came from the kitchen. A voice suddenly spoke quietly from the darkness to his right, startling him just a little.

“
You came.” It was Thatcher, and when he stepped a little closer, Joe could see a well-dressed man in his early fifties, with a trimmed beard, gray hair, and just a hint of a potbelly. He motioned for Joe to follow him, and they entered the lit kitchen, where another man and a woman waited. The woman seemed stern and had a suspicious look about her; her glasses and her hair, pulled back from her face with a hairpin, emphasized the impression. The man, in his early thirties, with a typical military bearing and haircut to match, wearing a dark sweater and jeans, nodded curtly to him. Thatcher did the introductions.

“
Senator Buchanan, this is Dr. Amanda Shearing, of JPL at CalTech, and Air Force Lieutenant Deacon Frost.” They all shook hands and Joe coughed.

“
Well … I’m not sure what to make of this. Honestly, Richard, what is this all about?” Thatcher sat down on one of the chairs around a rickety table, took out a file folder, and spread his notes out. The paper seemed a little old fashioned to Joe, but then again, there would be no risk of electronic surveillance picking it up either.

“
The information I have here … I could go to jail for this, and so could all of you here in this room. Just for being here. Or worse, I guess, if they knew what I have in mind. But alas, that is less of a concern to me now than it has ever been, because in a few years it won’t matter. However, if this meeting goes well, there is still hope. Sort of … Please sit down, Senator, all of you. Dr. Shearing, why don’t you brief the good senator?” The woman hesitated, and Buchanan felt her eyes staring into him, as if she could see every doubt he had.

“
I’m still not sure we can trust …” Thatcher cut her off.

“
Senator Buchanan is to be trusted. He is a good man, and I vouch for him. Continue, please. He needs to know.” Dr. Shearing shook her head slowly, then rose as she picked up one of Thatcher’s files and pushed it over to the senator.

“
Hmm, well, I guess we don’t have a choice in the matter.” She took a deep breath, and managed something that was meant to be a smile.

“
I guess we all get somewhat paranoid, and with good reason. But I’ll trust you, Senator. What I am about to tell you is something that’s being kept even from many of the people actually working on it, and if no one does anything about it, one tragedy will only be succeeded by another.”

“
Okay. It all started when Devastator was first discovered, more than two years ago …” And then she told him everything.

When Dr. Shearing finally sat down
, Joe was pale and speechless. He didn’t say anything for a minute, and the others let him digest the news. Hearing about what was likely to be the end of human civilization on Earth, from a professor who didn’t strike him as a lunatic, made him shake a little. And he knew in his heart what the president’s plan would mean. There would be no critical voices, no opposition to the totalitarian and restrictive ways that had evolved through the years following the Seattle incident. What would that do to the chances of survival for those who would live? And moreover, what would it mean to the society they would create, should they ever reach their destination?

“
This is a heavy burden, knowing these things …” he said quietly. “I wish I could do something, but I’m truly lost here.” He closed his eyes for a moment to think.

“
I’m usually well informed, as well as anyone I guess.” Joe had been a congressman for years, before taking a seat in the Senate, which after the second reforms had turned out to be one of the last entities where the president had to bargain and horse trade in order to make policy. Of course, the executive usually won, but even the power of stalling and renegotiation was something exclusive to the Senate these days.

“
He needs me too much to cut me off completely, or at least that’s what I thought. But I was kept in the dark about this, and I think that would demonstrate how powerless I am here.” Thatcher shook his head, and smiled wryly.

“
On the contrary, it just demonstrates that you are not one of his cronies, and I’d say that’s a good thing. You know, there is a reason I called you, and it’s not just to give you bad news. We mean to change the game, and I believe we have the means to do so.” Joe looked quizzically at him, while Thatcher paused for a moment. Then he turned toward the younger man.

“
Lieutenant Frost here comes from a very prominent family in Houston, Texas.”

“
Black gold, old fossils, also known as oil,” Frost grimaced.

“
Yes, oil money from back in the early nineteenth,” Thatcher continued. Money that was used to finance the campaigns of both Holloway and Andrews.

“
Money that got me into the Academy,” Frost said quietly. Thatcher shook his head and dismissed his comment with a hand.

“
I don’t think so, Deacon. But yes, there is corruption at work, and we mean to use it to our advantage.” He turned back toward Joe and picked up another file, scanned it for a moment, and then explained.

“
Lieutenant Frost has been selected for a very special mission out west. He hasn’t been told what it is, but I happen to know that in six months the first candidates for an undisclosed space mission will start gathering in an old air force base in Arizona, and it seems our young lieutenant’s destination is that very same place. Now, that could mean anything, if it wasn’t for his prior assignments, his résumé, so to speak. Since graduation from the Air Force Academy, Lieutenant Frost has been an instructor at the Advanced Tactical School, which turns out most of the scramjet pilots. To understand the significance of this, you need to understand that most instructors at ATS are seasoned veterans, scramjet-certified pilots themselves. What I mean to say is, no offense Deacon, but your comment on money getting you into AFA is a load of crap. You’ve distinguished yourself too much for that to be true. No, to be selected for such an assignment without all that experience, you have to be extraordinary.

“
When we send a starship into space carrying the hope of mankind, there will be a rigorous selection of candidates. Lieutenant Frost’s specialty is assessing the capabilities of others for extreme conditions, for coping with the unexpected and making do with the resources at hand. It’s a perfect match of the capabilities needed to create a viable colony off-Earth, and the lieutenant is an expert at it himself, as well as assessing it in others. My guess is that he will be on the team of instructors that will also be responsible for the selection of candidates.”

“
All right,” Joe interrupted. “I can see where you’re going here. Lieutenant Frost will be able to influence the selection of the candidates, and that’s all very well. I like the idea of having someone carrying the torch when the rest of us are gone. But that’s already in play, and I still don’t know how I fit into the picture.” Thatcher leaned forward on the table and stared intently at him.