Saucer: Savage Planet (30 page)

The captain asked the survivors and their children for DNA samples, permission for which was freely given. O’Reilly was summoned and told what was wanted. After much handshaking and hugs all around for everyone, the survivors and their families were escorted away, to be driven to Bethesda Naval Hospital for DNA testing.

When the room once again contained only the captain, the president, Uncle Egg and Hennessey, the president told Egg of the captain’s request for DNA samples of successful earth parents.

Before Egg could get a word in edgewise, the president went after the starship captain. “We can certainly help you,” he said, “but we want something in return. We want your research into the diseases aging—senescence—causes or enables, things like Alzheimer’s disease, osteoporosis and cataracts. And we want what you know about the causes, prevention and cures for cancer.”

The captain looked around the room, at the three men, at the paintings and decorations, looked out the window at the weak November sunshine. Finally she turned to face them.
Biology is not my field; I am a starship commander. I have my orders and diplomatic guidelines that my government expects me to follow. My orders are not to disrupt or interfere with the natural progression of a civilization, nor to take sides in planetary disputes.

Still, I have a certain amount of discretion. We can give you everything you ask for about cancer. Senescence is a much more difficult problem according to the biologists in my crew. In my judgment, giving you thousands of years of research into senescence would revolutionize your society in ways it is probably not prepared to handle. However, I can ask my biologists to look at where your researchers are and suggest lines of inquiry that they believe will be of value to you and not violate the spirit of our orders.

“Mr. Cantrell?” the president said.

Egg already knew precisely what he thought. He spent a few seconds figuring out how to verbalize it, then said, “Too much too soon would turn the lives of the six billion people on this planet upside down. It might also cause hundreds, or thousands, of other species to become extinct, species for which we are moral guardians. Biological diversity is one of the miracles that sustain life on this planet. My advice is to accept her offer.”

“Petty Officer Hennessey?”

“Mr. Cantrell offers wise advice, sir, in my opinion. Accept her offer.”

“Captain, what can we offer you in the way of provisions to continue your journey?”

Water, sir. Recycling water inevitably leads to losses. And I am sure my first officer can go over available protein and vegetable matter and find some items that we can put into the starship’s food supply system.

“I also wish you folks would take these two saucers with you. They contain computers full of information that our civilization is not yet ready to use wisely.”

The captain smiled.
Your wisdom is commendable. My superiors ordered me to recover or destroy them, if possible. As it happens, we have no room for them on the starship. I suggest launching them into your star.

The president lowered his head, then nodded.

“I accept your offer,” he told the captain. “Give us what biological assistance you can consistent with your orders, and we will provide the DNA samples you asked for and all the provisions you wish. I am sure Mr. Cantrell can dispose of the saucers.” He eyed Uncle Egg, who nodded.

They left it there.

As Egg left the room, he felt as if a great weight—eternal life in a pill bottle—had been lifted … from his shoulders and the shoulders of all mankind. Thank God, he thought, Harrison Douglas and Johnny Murkowsky were dead and the body of Adam Solo was beyond the reach of other greedy men.

*   *   *

Since they had feasted in early afternoon, dinner for the space voyagers was snacks. Rip and Charley, Uncle Egg and Professor Deehring mingled for a bit, then thanked the president and departed for the Willard Hotel, where Egg had managed to obtain rooms. He had asked for the presidential suite and a penthouse—an extravagance—but if the four of them hoped to sleep in Washington under a roof in real beds and use showers with hot water, that was about it. Of course, Egg could have asked the White House staff for help, but he didn’t want to owe them a favor. Better to pay the American Express bill when it came.

They walked to the Willard through dissipating crowds. None of the people in the streets recognized them, which was a blessing.

Egg signed his name and presented his credit card. The desk clerk certainly knew who they were and called Egg, Rip and Charley by name. Two bellhops almost came to blows over their overnight bags. Rip and Charley got the presidential suite. There was a balcony that overlooked the city, the Washington Monument and the White House. The saucers and starship shuttle were just visible through the trees.

When the bellhop had departed with a tip, Rip locked the door and joined Charley on the balcony. “Uncle Egg said the aliens don’t want the saucers. We are supposed to fuel them and launch them into the sun.”

“It’ll make great television,” Charley said distractedly. Obviously she had something on her mind.

Rip did too. He decided the time was right, so he dived right in. “Will you marry me?” he asked Charley Pine.

She turned and looked at him, surprise written all over her face. “Say that again?”

“You heard me. Will you marry me?”

“You’re proposing?”

“I certainly hope so. I think this is the way it’s done. Will you marry me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“Well, I am asking. I don’t know what the future holds, or where our lives will take us, but I want to share life with you. So will you marry me?”

“Yes,” said Charley Pine.

Rip was not slow. He gathered the lady into his arms and kissed her deeply.

When they broke, Charley said, “With one tiny little proviso.”

“Only one?”

“Only one, but I suppose it’s not so tiny. I talked to the captain of the starship this evening. They were hoping to take home some of the Roswell survivors and their families, but they all said no. They have some room on their starship. I volunteered us to go with them.”

Rip stared at her. “
Us?
”

“
Us.
You and me. You know that they are having a baby problem on their planet. Genetics and such. They are going to get DNA samples from successful earth parents for research. And I thought, well, heck, Rip and I are going to be parents, so why don’t we go with them and have a huge adventure?”

In the silence that followed, she added, “What do you think?”

“We’ve got to do something with our lives,” Rip admitted.

“Right.”

“But a hundred years? It would be really tough. Even if it’s a luxury hotel—I doubt that it is—and we’re busy as heck, spending a hundred years with just a dozen people? We’ll go crazy or kill them.”

“They made it,” Charley shot back. “If they can do it, we can! And imagine what we’ll learn! Not to mention the extraordinary adventures we’ll have along the way and when the voyage is over.”

That, in a nutshell, Rip reflected, was the life philosophy of Charley Pine. He scrutinized her face. That was the optimistic outlook and determination that had gotten her into tactical military aviation and through test pilot school. It was also, he realized, the philosophy of the millions of immigrants to America through the centuries, immigrants who left everything, endured untold traveling hardships, then started from scratch in a new world.

If he wanted this woman, he was going to have to sign the Pine manifesto. Of course, Rip had already done that once, when he dug the saucer from the Sahara sandstone, fueled it with water and climbed aboard to fly. That adventure worked out rather well, he thought. If he had taken counsel of his fears then, he wouldn’t have gotten to know and fallen in love with Charley Pine.

Almost as if she were reading his thoughts, she said, “Remember the Sahara? We didn’t know how the adventure would turn out, but we both climbed into that saucer and flew it away. And here we are.”

Another thought occurred to Rip. “How do you know we’ll be parents?”

“Rip. Ripper. How do you think women through the ages have known that their man was going to be a father?”

He goggled. Grabbed her arms and stared into her eyes. “You’re pregnant?”

“Yes.” She said it simply, but it was the most powerful word Rip had ever heard.

Joy flooded him.
Oh wow, Charley was going to have his baby!
Then he remembered the recent adventures with Adam Solo. “How long have you known this?”

“Oh, a while.”

“And you were dancing on top of a saucer over the Grand Canyon?”

“The little Ripper is going to have to take life as it comes. You and I have had to. That’s what life is, Rip! It’s an
adventure.
It
must
be lived that way or it is worth nothing.”

He gathered her into his arms and kissed her.

*   *   *

In the penthouse Uncle Egg and Professor Deborah Deehring were having a glass of wine on their balcony. As it happened, their balcony was immediately above the presidential suite balcony, and they heard every word that passed between Rip and Charley.

They slipped inside and closed the door.

“They’re leaving your life, Arthur,” Deborah said.

Uncle Egg merely nodded. He was smiling, and tears were leaking down his cheeks.

“Adam Solo said he would meet us on the other side,” Egg said. “I’ll see Rip and Charley there too. That will have to do.”

21

The next few days were hectic. DNA samples were taken from volunteer couples, an undertaking that fascinated the press and resulted in worldwide publicity.

Several of the starship crew toured the zoo and oohed and aahed at the extraordinary diversity they saw. Others toured the arboretum, where they took samples and recorded images of plants they found interesting.

The shuttle was loaded with tanks of water, over a ton, and a thousand pounds of carefully selected living plants, including wheat, rice, soybeans and corn, a flock of chickens and two pigs, a male and a pregnant female. Charley Pine wanted to take Amanda to the starship for a look, but with all the supplies, it wasn’t to be. NASA wanted to send two senior engineers to explore, and that plus the first officer, who was flying the shuttle, took all the room in the cabin there was.

Amanda and Charley toured the shuttle when it returned that evening. The first officer answered every question that was asked. Amanda had a wonderful time. Hennessey took her to the White House Press Room, where she answered reporters’ questions.

Through the good offices of Petty Officer Hennessey, who was here, there and everywhere, Rip and Charley got in to see the president.

“We’re going with the aliens on their starship,” they told him. “They said they have the room.”

The president felt a great warmth come over him, much like that produced by a shot of really good bourbon. The saucer aces, Rip Cantrell and Charley Pine, were going to be out of his hair permanently. He beamed benignly. “Godspeed, children.”

“Before we go, however,” Rip said, “we’d like to ask a favor of you.”

The president’s grin vanished.
This was too good to be true,
he thought.

“We want to get married,” Charley explained, “and were hoping you could marry us. Like tomorrow.”

Relief flooded the Grand Poobah. “I never married anybody before. I don’t know anything about District of Columbia marriage laws. For all I know, I don’t have the authority. We can probably find you a judge or preacher, if you want.”

“Oh, we don’t care about the D.C. laws,” Rip said, making a gesture that swept away all little difficulties. “We aren’t going to get a license. It’s the ceremony we want. We’ll invite the family and the aliens and tie the knot.”

“Oh,” the president said blandly. He was not surprised. In his experience Rip and Charley pretty much ignored other people’s rules and made their own. “In that case, why not? When?”

“Would tomorrow evening work?”

“Sure.”

“Great. We’ll go buy some rings.” They scampered away holding hands.

“I hope my presiding over a marriage doesn’t set a precedent,” the president growled at Hennessey.

“Don’t sweat it, sir. You might tell the press you’ll marry anyone leaving the planet without dying first.”

Charley called her mom and dad and sister, and Rip telephoned his mother in Minnesota. The next evening, as the families and aliens watched, the president read a ceremony Rip and Charley had found on the Internet. Amanda was maid of honor. Everyone wanted to kiss the bride, including the president, who laid one on her cheek.

Uncle Egg snapped a couple of photos of Rip, Charley and the president with Rip’s camera; then the president snapped a few of Uncle Egg and the newlyweds.

The president gave Egg his camera back, then whispered to the White House photographer, “Get some of Rip, Charley and Egg. I want an eight-by-ten of the best one framed for my desk.”

P. J. O’Reilly knew good PR when he saw it, so he had photos of the wedding and watching aliens on the street within an hour.

The next day Rip and Charley fueled the saucers with water from a hose.

While they were at it, Uncle Egg climbed into the Roswell saucer and donned the headset. He knew what he wanted, and he spent over an hour communing with the computer trying to get it. He made notes on a small pad. He wasn’t a physicist, but he was a very competent engineer. Finally, satisfied he had all he could get, he turned off the power and closed the hatch behind him. The closest marine saluted him, and he smiled in reply.

When the saucer he had discovered in the Sahara was completely full of water, Rip sat in the pilot’s seat and told the computer what he wanted. Then he reviewed the graphics to ensure the computer had it right.

Charley Pine did the same for the Roswell saucer. She found John-Paul Lalouette’s bloodstains still on the floor and said a little prayer for him.

Then the saucers launched from the White House lawn. Rip’s went out over the Potomac gaining height and airspeed; then the rocket engines ignited and the nose rose to the vertical. It soared away on a pillar of fire as the world watched on television.