The Orion Protocol (29 page)

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Authors: Gary Tigerman

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PART

VI

When you come to a fork in the road, take it.

—Yogi Berra

69

February 11/CPB Building/Washington, D.C.

Angela was feeling both scared for Jake and personally responsible for the spot he was in. She was elated to know that he was safe, for the moment, but he was by no means out of the woods. And Angela didn’t feel better about the situation until they had worked out a plausible way forward, a way, though, that involved both of them taking a risk.

Now that she was free to tell her partner everything, the two women had strategized together after Miriam’s initial shock wore off. They honed their pitch until they were ready to walk into the offices at PBS legal and get what they needed.

“That’s some story,” Arthur Maclewain said, giving his knack for laconic understatement some exercise. Marvin Epstein, the attorney’s young associate, spoke without looking up from their tightly crafted two-page proposal.

“So, you’re saying you want to offer
Science Horizon
as a forum for Colonel Blake and Commander Deaver to make a public statement about discovering an extraterrestrial city on the Moon.”

Angela turned toward the junior attorney.

“It will be the science story of the decade. Like getting the first Apollo Moon landing exclusive to PBS.”

“But we won’t just be scooping the networks. We’ll make ’em bid to
share our feed,” Miriam added. “No reason not to make it good business as well as landmark television.”

“That’s not the issue.” Maclewain fiddled with a gold Cross pen.

“You mean, is it covered speech? You tell us.”

The senior attorney looked extremely uncomfortable.

“Whether it’s protected under the Constitution or not, you’re putting your careers,
Science Horizon
, the station license, and the corporation at risk.”

“Like Edward R. Murrow taking on McCarthy. Or Dan Schorr and Vietnam.” Angela sounded as tough and defiant as she felt.

She and Miriam looked back and forth between the two lawyers.

“So, is it constitutional free speech and free press or not?” Miriam repeated.

“I don’t know,” Epstein said, turning to the senior counsel with an odd light in his eyes. “But I want the ball.”

70

Returning from Denver on Air Force transport, Colonel Augie Blake had a car pick him up at Andrews AFB and drop him at the NASA building in D.C. Stopping in his own office, he checked messages and e-mail, including a cryptic note and a small video file from Jonathan Quatraine, the grad student in Australia.

Huh
. . . Augie looked at the time, then opened the file.

Since he was already aware of Project Orion, the short quick-time sequence of the secret weapons test was surprising only because the Aussie grad student had picked up on it and, impressively, even gotten it on tape.

“Well, good on ya, mate,” Augie said, in a Dundee drawl.

He was playing the file back and wondering how to reassure Jonathan about what he had done when something caught his eye. Augie played the Orion test again. And then again, until he was sure of what he was seeing.

“Those cowboy sons of bitches.”

He then hustled upstairs to join the crisis management meeting already in progress in the office of the NASA Administrator.

71

Office of the NASA Administrator

“I talked to Deaver. After you folks’s little fiasco.”

Augie was splitting his attention between Vern Pierce behind his desk and Bob Winston, who was sharing the office couch with Admiral Ingraham. Winston wasn’t giving away much, but Pierce seemed anguished.

“I hope you told him it wasn’t supposed to have been like that.”

“Yeah, those stuntmen did pretty well screw the pooch.” Augie laughed lightly. “I don’t know whose dick was in whose hand out there in Colorado.”

The attitude alone was almost enough to make Winston walk out, but the dour presence of the Admiral beside him quashed any such impulse: Ingraham hated prima donnas.

Augie turned to the two Intelligence heavyweights, who seemed to be competing for the grim face award.

“I’m afraid y’all’ve got one pissed-off Apollo astronaut on your hands, outside the tent and ready to start pissing in.”

“Where is he?” Ingraham said. Augie shook his head.

“Someplace safe, I’m sure. And ready to face the media with a hundred-percent hangout, whether we like it or not.”

Pierce looked pale.

“He wouldn’t dare! Justice would be forced to indict.”

“Validating Jake’s story,” Augie pointed out. “Not to mention bringing it all crashing down on our collective heads. Unless . . .”

Augie paused, as if reconsidering his own suggestion.

“Unless what, Colonel?” Ingraham said.

But the National Security Adviser was already there.

“Unless the one man, the one and only eyewitness who could cast doubt on Deaver’s testimony, contradicts his story,” Winston said, letting it hang out there.

Ingraham studied the idea from different angles. Pierce was slack-jawed.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Maybe it’s a bad risk.” Augie shrugged, as if having second thoughts or feeling reluctant at being fitted for the Judas role. But the Admiral was warming to it.

“Better a live fool than a dead martyr.”

“What exactly are you imagining here?” Pierce said.

Augie explained.

“What if Jake and I go on Angela Browning’s PBS show together, the both of us, and we let Commander Deaver flat-out tell his story . . . ?”

“But that’s insane. It’s out of the question.”

“Wait, Vern, this is just a backup.” Winston held up his hand like a traffic cop. “Let’s play it out.”

Augie leaned heavily forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

“Just so we have no illusions here, gentlemen: unless you find him first and take him off the street, former Apollo Commander Jake Deaver is gonna say what he’s gonna say in one public forum or another, like it or not, or grits ain’t groceries. All I’m saying is, if I’m at least
there
when he does it, I can set it up so that Jake says his piece first, and then when it’s my turn, I can reluctantly and compassionately decline to confirm the Commander’s version of events.”

“Jesus . . .” Pierce said, weighing the potential PR nightmare.

“Then you, Vern, have your spin-flacks all geared up with tabloid handouts about Flaky Jake’s psychotherapy, Flaky Jake’s Buddhist-cult practices, Flaky Jake and his psilocybin adventures, ‘Drug Bust Astronaut Sez: “Alien City on the Moon!” ‘ Shit, who the hell’s gonna run it as a straight news story?”

“While you and Colonel Blake take the high road.” Winston nodded. “ ‘Commander Jake Deaver was a courageous, respected member of the
Apollo family and always will be, regardless of any unfortunate personal circumstances,’ blah-blah-blah.”

“So, Deaver tells all and becomes the latest Jay Leno joke,” Ingraham said, savoring it. Augie made a face, but did not disagree.

“After which he can say absolutely anything, folks, and nobody who matters will give a good goddamn.”

But Pierce appeared unconvinced.

“Look, I just don’t think . . .”

Ingraham silenced him with a look, then focused his intelligent black eyes on Augie like the arch-spook interrogator he’d once been.

“Colonel, I know there isn’t that much love lost between you and Deaver.” The Admiral’s voice was an intimate rasp. “I just want to be sure you could do this.”

Augie understood and took his time before responding.

“Admiral, I know Jake Deaver. And I know that when he’s mad, he’s one stubborn son of a bitch. Well, right now he’s as pissed off as I have ever seen him, drunk or sober. That old boy is ready to walk, head high, through hellfire, draggin’ yours truly right along with him. And he’s not askin’ anybody’s opinion or permission, least of all mine. What his old podnah might want, or how what he does affects me and the rest of my life, is totally off his fuckin’ radar. Now, I may know him like my idiot brother and I may understand why, but forgive me if I say fuck that noise to the bone. And if I have to save his sorry butt to save mine, so be it. That said, Admiral, there is one thing . . .”

Augie leaned in close, his voice sinking to a quasi-confessional register.

“Jake’s made some bad choices, all right? So, the way I see it, he is forcing my hand. And I can and will consign my old podnah to permanent public irrelevancy. But make no mistake.”

Augie turned to include Winston.

“If an
unidentified assailant
robs him and leaves him dead in the street, or there is some tragic, fatal
hit-and-run
accident? Or CNN reports he was found
overdosed on heroin
, or some other shit he does not use, in his cabin in Colorado? You know what I’m saying. If Jake Deaver so much as chokes on a goddamn chicken sandwich, instead of dying in his sleep a very old man, I will know who did it. And I will track you down and put each one of you down like rabid, feral dogs.”

Winston was afraid to look over and see what Ingraham’s reaction might be. But the stern-faced Admiral was actually rather amused, although he believed Augie Blake meant exactly what he said, 100 percent. They all ignored the NASA chief, who was too busy eating his tie to say anything.

“I don’t suppose he’ll thank you,” Winston said.

“No.” Augie relaxed back into his chair, looking oddly pensive. “I don’t suppose he will.”

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