Fade Out (55 page)

‘All you're doing is adding one more person to the list of people to be evacuated. Your job is over now.'

‘I feel I owe it to them,' insisted Connors. ‘And my job won't be over until they are clear and there's nothing left on Crow Ridge except a big hole in the ground.'

‘Okay, do it your way,' said the President. ‘I don't want any of my staff feeling emotionally deprived.'

‘Thanks,' Connors turned to Fraser. ‘What are the arrangements for evacuating the Ridge and the base camp?'

‘They'll be moving out under their own steam,' said Fraser. ‘The Corporation will see that everybody gets clear well ahead of time.'

Connors turned to McKenna. ‘Does that mean your front man out there is in charge?'

‘Yes, Rizzik, the office manager down at the base camp.
He'll make sure that there is adequate transportation. But technically, he's just servicing the Ridge. Until the Crusoe Project officially closes down, the man out there giving the orders is Wedderkind – that is until you get there.'

‘Got it. I imagine he and the research group will want to hang on until the last possible minute. We can start by getting most of the Air Force units away first. The biggest snag will be the time we need for medical processing.'

‘You don't need to worry about that,' said Fraser. ‘When I sent the signal from Moscow recalling General Allbright to Washington, I also countermanded the quarantine order covering Ridge personnel. It was clear from the negative results of the several tests on yourself and General Allbright that there was no health hazard, either physical or mental, to any of the people in contact with Crusoe, and that further widespread testing would be time-consuming and would prove equally negative.'

‘That's good.'

‘Yeah, but that doesn't mean your people can fool around until the last minute,' growled Wills. ‘It may only take half an hour to move those trucks twenty miles, but I suggest you clear the area by midnight Monday. That will give us from first light on Tuesday till midday for our helicopters to make a final check of the fire zone. Anyone still in there after that gets a free ticket to the barbecue.'

‘Have you got that, Bob? I don't want us to get into a cliff-hanger situation by a last-minute pursuit of scientific knowledge.'

‘Or a sit-down strike by Arnold and his boys,' said Fraser.

‘That's why I want to go out there.' Connors smiled at the President. ‘My biggest worry is that when they hear what's coming, someone may get killed in the rush. But if there is any argument, I'm sure General Allbright's cadets will give me a hand to carry away any protesters.'

‘No problem,' said Allbright. ‘You'll have their full support.'

‘When do you plan to go out there?' asked the President.

‘I thought I'd go early on Sunday,' said Connors. ‘I only managed a brief nap on the way out. I'd like to grab four good hours before I get into this.'

‘Sure, I understand. Okay, it looks as if we're in good shape,' said the President. He stood up, bringing everyone else with him, ‘Let's move ahead with the final phase of Operation CAMPFIRE. Vernon, do you want to start by getting your show on the road?'

‘I'll go back to the Pentagon and send the signal now,' said Wills.

‘Make sure your people are briefed the way Bob has suggested.

‘Yes, sir.'

The President shook Allbright's hand. ‘Good luck and good hunting.'

Allbright left with the three Joint Chiefs of Staff. McKenna and Samuels started to head for the door before they caught Fraser's signal to stay. The President returned to his swivel chair behind the heavy desk and motioned them to sit down again.

‘Now… what did the Russians say when you hit them with the pictures of Commissar?'

Connors looked at Fraser. ‘Ah, Mel – maybe it would be better if you took it from here.'

As Fraser described the way the Russians had trumped their hand with pictures of Crusoe, the President's frown deepened. He sank back into his big wing chair and pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘In one sense, it doesn't affect our position,' continued
Fraser. ‘We achieved our basic objective – a joint attack on Crusoe and Commissar.'

‘And in every other sense they made dummies out of us,' said the President. He appeared to have entirely forgotten that it was his own loaded response to a question put to him by Fraser on Friday, August tenth, that had initiated the whole Crusoe cover-up. Nobody seemed to think it was an appropriate moment to remind him.

‘How in hell am I ever going to be able to face these guys again? How am I going to get them to believe anything that I say – or that
any
of us say?' He flashed a sharp glance at Connors and picked up the blue leather folder containing his message that Premier Leonovich had rejected. ‘It's humiliating… If we'd played it square with them from the start, I would never have got sucked into signing this garbage.' The President tossed the folder aside.

‘That's not quite fair,' said Fraser. ‘It was a good plan. And it would have worked if someone involved with this project – and probably from my department – hadn't fed those photographs to the Russians.'

Connors was surprised by Fraser's unexpected leap to his defence.

‘I'm more worried about some of the other things he might have got his hands on,' said Samuels. ‘Like the reports on the effect of the fade-out on our operational capabilities.'

‘That's your problem. Just find the leak, plug it, and send me an estimate of the damage.' The President turned back to Fraser. ‘I know Bob thought it was a good plan. Naturally, it was his idea. But it was a gamble, Mel. You know that as well as I do. However I don't want to get dragged into an argument about that. The point is the plan didn't work and it's got my name on it.'

‘I did have a long talk with Premier Leonovich before we left,' said Connors. ‘I think I managed to convince
him that the whole thing was my idea. And that it was only with the greatest reluctance that you put your name to the document. When the dust settles, I think you'll find that we managed to carve most of the blame away from you. We'll come out of this all right.'

‘Well, I know
I
will,' said the President pointedly.

Connors tried but couldn't remember a day when his fortunes had slipped so badly. It was clear that whatever he said, he had no hope of winning this particular exchange, even though, this time, Fraser was in there rooting for him.

‘Is there anything else, or have I had all today's bad news?'

‘There are a couple more points, but I wouldn't call it bad news,' said Connors. ‘As part of the deal, the Russians want two of their people to meet Arnold's research group and monitor the attack on Crusoe. We brought them back with us.'

‘Great. What would you like me to do – ask them over for tea?'

‘That's entirely up to you. Their visit is being kept a secret.'

‘Are they important?'

‘Grigorienko's a big noise at Star City. He was the man the Russians named as head of their half of the Joint Study Group. General Golubev is one of Rudenkov's senior aides. Chris Matson, whom we left over there, pulls the same weight as Grigorienko. We need to send someone to match the General.'

The President didn't hesitate. ‘Garrison can go. It will give the Navy a chance to do something useful for a change.'

As an ex-Navy man, Connors recognized it as a parting shot aimed at him – below the waterline.

By Saturday morning, the angular difference between the planes of the four curving sections had increased even more. One of the Air Force photographers was lifted skyward on the defunct TV camera platform of the balloon to get some overhead shots of the hull. His pictures, processed down at the base camp, showed that Crusoe's originally circular plan view was looking decidedly square. His height had increased a further four and three-quarters feet, and his width was now ninety-three feet. Plotted on Neame's graph, the figures showed that Crusoe's growth rate was slackening, but there was still no sign of it levelling out.

The photographs were passed around the table in the research hut for everyone to look at. Wetherby frowned at one of the plan views and a side view for a long time and said, ‘I know this may sound crazy but I think Crusoe's turning into a pyramid.'

Wedderkind took the pictures back from Wetherby and had another look for himself. The hull was still too curved for him to visualize it as clearly as Wetherby had, but the idea triggered off a whole new set of possibilities.

Pyramid cults had existed since the dawn of history and the pyramid remained a potent symbol of arcane magic. In recent years, scientists had become aware that, as a form, the pyramid possessed peculiar physical properties that they were at a loss to explain. It had been demonstrated that the pyramid could arrest the process of decay, perhaps even alter the nature of Time itself. It seemed to act as a focal point, a condenser, for what modern students of the ancient mysteries believed were the elemental life forces permeating the universe. Whatever the truth might be, a new pyramid was growing on the Ridge. If they were lucky, if Crusoe withstood the
planned attack, and if they themselves survived what would inevitably follow, the answers to their questions might be found within it.

Wedderkind walked up on to the plateau with Wetherby, Collis, and Brecetti and took a long look at Crusoe.

‘The engineers were right about the shape,' said Brecetti. ‘He's not getting ready to move, he's settling in.'

‘Are you sorry?' asked Wedderkind.

‘I think “worried” might be a better word. If the enlarged cutoff zone is not to cover Crusoe during takeoff, then we have to ask ourselves – what
is
it for?'

‘Perhaps it's to protect him from whatever our friends may be planning to do. We've accepted the fact that he can anticipate our actions – and possibly even read our minds. He may also have established a direct line with the White House.'

‘True. And if there are
six
landing sites, as York's researchers indicate, no doubt they'll all take similar precautions and cut off all the power. The world isn't ready for a change of this magnitude, Arnold.'

‘Phil, the world couldn't survive it,' said Collis.

‘In fact,' continued Brecetti, ‘the world isn't ready for any change at all, although God knows it badly needs a new sense of direction.'

‘That's why I think it's inevitable that we will try to destroy Crusoe,' said Wedderkind. ‘Even at the risk of destroying our own future. The majority of people would prefer to trade it for some more of the present.'

‘You're right,' said Collis. ‘I never thought I'd find myself siding with the forces of reaction. When you asked me to join the project and explained the kind of opposition we had lined up against us, I really saw it in terms of “us” and “them”. But now, I don't mind telling you, I'm scared as hell. I don't want anything
earthshattering to happen. I've just finished paying for my house, we've finally got the kids into a decent school, my wife's found a beautiful summer cabin in Minnesota – '

‘You're lucky,' said Brecetti. ‘We're still looking.'

Wedderkind looked at Wetherby. ‘See what I mean? Multiply Ray by two hundred million and you've got America's answer. It was Fraser who had the right attitude from the start. Man doesn't like mysteries. He has to unravel them. He feels threatened by events he doesn't understand – because in his divine arrogance, he believes he can understand everything. And because there standing in front of us is a finite object to be measured and photographed and fiddled around with, we believe we must be able to understand that too. But perhaps the pyramid that Crusoe is becoming is just the physical tip of a metaphysical iceberg – the meaning and importance of which we are failing to grasp because, at the moment, we lack the necessary degree of perception.' Wedderkind hoped he might trigger off a telepathic contact with his last few words, but no one came through.

‘I did suggest something along these lines after we lost Milsom and Spencer,' muttered Collis.

‘That's true,' said Wedderkind. ‘And your words fell on stony ground. And here you are, our psychic apostle of the paranormal, running for cover.'

‘Put it down to an overdeveloped sense of my domestic responsibilities. Hell, you're a grandfather. Can you honestly say you'd be happy to consign your family to the kind of chaos Phil has predicted?'

‘No, of course not,' said Wedderkind. They began to walk slowly towards Crusoe.

‘Well, it's reassuring to know you haven't become totally detached from reality. Our present society may not be all that brilliant, but there will be no bright future
for any of us if all the lights go out. And yet you still haven't told Washington about this, or the other sites. And you didn't recommend termination.'

‘I couldn't contact Bob.'

‘Allbright could have passed on a message,' said Collis.

‘I know, but it could have got into the wrong hands. I'll try and get through to Bob later. As for not recommending termination, that's true. But there were plenty of other people eager to make that decision for me. I couldn't do it. Not because I'd lost touch with reality, but because I was trying to grasp the new reality that Crusoe's presence had imposed upon us. It's also true that I held back information. I wanted to gain as much time as possible. To give us a chance to understand. If I had passed on everything we knew or suspected it wouldn't have made any difference.'

‘You sound very pessimistic,' said Brecetti.

‘Not really, Phil, just full of regret. Two hundred years ago Crusoe and his companions could have landed on Earth and everything would have been fine. There was nothing to be affected by the fade-out and nothing that could be cut off by Crusoe's force field. It would have been a fascinating encounter – the intellectual curiosity of the eighteenth-century mind and a space-age culture from beyond the millennium. There might have been time for Crusoe to get his message across. Our trouble is we have too big an investment to protect.'