Footfall

Je

“Sit down,” he commanded. “I’m just old enough to feel uncomfortable when ladies stand up for me. Got any coffee?”

“Yes, sir.” She took cups from her desk drawer and poured from a Thermos pitcher.

“Pretty good. Not up to Navy standards, of course. Navy coffee will peel paint. Did we get anything out of that zoo?”

“Yes, sir,” Je

“You sound surprised.”

“Admiral, I was surprised. I thought the exercise was a waste of time, but once those sci-fi types got going, it was pretty good.” She opened a folder that lay atop her desk. “This, for instance. When the alien ship came into the solar system almost fifteen years ago, a few telescopes including Mauna Kea happened to be pointed that way. . No one noticed anything then, but when we really looked—” She showed the photographs.

“It look like blobs to me.”

“Yes, sir. They looked like blobs to all of us. Maybe they are blobs. But the sc-fi people suggested that the alien ship dropped a Bussard ramjet.”

“A—”

“Bussard ramjet, Admiral.” She looked down at her notes and read. “Vacuum isn’t empty. There’s hydrogen between the stars. The ramjet is a device for using the interstellar hydrogen as a means for propulsion. In theory it will take ships-large ships-between the stars. It uses large magnetic fields for scoops, and—”

“You may spare me the technical details.”

“Yes, sir. The important point is that they dropped something massive, something they may need if they contemplate leaving our solar system.”

“Which means they intend to stay,” Admiral Carrell said mildly.

“Yes, sir—”

“Rather presumes on our hospitality. Almost as if they didn’t intend us any free choice.” He stood. “Well, we will know soon enough.”

“Yes, sir”

“My congratulations on your work with the advisors. Perhaps I can glean more speculations from them.”

“You’re going to work with them, sir?’

“I may as well. The President has decided that someone responsible must be inside Cheye

“Good choice,” Je

Carrell smiled thinly. “I suppose so.”

“Any special preparations I should make, sir?”

“Nothing that isn’t in the briefing book. I’ve discussed this with the Strategic Air Command and the Chief of Naval Operations. They’re ordering a Yellow Alert starting tomorrow afternoon.”

Yellow Alert. The A Teams on duty in the missile silos. All the missile subs at sea. Bombers on ready alert, fueled, bombs aboard, with crews in quarters by the runways. “I do hope this is a waste of time.”

Admiral Carrell nodded agreement. “So do I, Major. Needed or not, I leave this afternoon. Before I do, we must discuss this with the President. I give you one hour to reduce all we know to a ten-minute briefing.”

Jeri Wilson piled the last of the gear into the station wagon and slammed the tailgate. Then she leaned against it to catch her breath. It was warm out, with bright sun overhead, but the morning low haze hid the mountains ringing the San Fernando Valley. She glanced at her watch, “Eleven, and I’m ready to go,” she a

Isadore Leiber eyed the aged Buick’s sagging springs. “You’ll never make it, he a

“Good roads all the way,” Jeri said. “I’ve left enough time so I won’t have to drive too fast. You’re the ones who are cutting it close; you have farther to go.”

“Yeah,” Isadore said. “Jeri, change your mind! Come with us.”

“No. I am going to find my husband.”

Clara looked uncomfortable. “Jeri, he’s not really—”

“He damned well is, that divorce isn’t final. Anyway, it’s not your problem. It’s mine. Thanks for worrying about me, but I can take care of myself.”

“I doubt it,” Isadore said with embarrassed brutality.

Melissa came out with a large bear named Mr. Pruett. Thank God there weren’t any animals, Jeri thought. Except the goldfish. She’d taken care of that problem by flushing the fish down the toilet while Melissa was asleep.

Isadore showed her an entry in his notebook. “That’s the right address and phone number?”

She nodded.

“Caddoa, Colorado,” Isadore said, “I never heard of the place.” Jeri shrugged. “Me either. David thinks they’re crazy, but somebody thinks he can find oil there.”

“Sounds small.”

“I guess it is. Harry marked out a route for me—”

“Harry,” Clara said contemptuously.

“Harry’s all right,” Jeri said. “Anyway, I went to the Auto Club too. They say the roads are good all the way. Isadore, Clara, it’s sweet of you to worry, but you’ve done enough. Now get out of here before George and Vicki get mad at you.”

“Yeah,” Isadore said. “I sure would hate it if George got mad at me…”

“You would, though,” Jeri said. “Give the Enclave my best. Melissa, get in the car. We’re on our way. Clan, from your look you’d think you weren’t ever going to see me again!”

“Sorry.” Clara tried to laugh, but she wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

“Do you know something?” Jeri demanded.

“A little,” Isadore said. He sounded reluctant to talk, but finally added, “George caught something on short wave. All the strategic forces are on alert. Also, there’s some kind of problem in Russia, he thinks. I’m not sure what.”

“George is always hearing about problems in Russia,” Jeri said.

“Yeah, but he’s been right, too. Remember how he predicts that shake-up—”

Jeri shrugged. “Too late to worry about it.” She got into the station wagon and started the engine. “Thanks again,” she called, as she pulled away from the curb.

The Buick was sluggish, and she wondered if she really had loaded it too heavily. It was an old car, and for the past year it had been pretty badly neglected. I ought to have new springs put in. And have the brakes looked at, and a tune-up, and-and no! If I wait, I may never go at all.

He didn’t say no. He couldn’t quite get himself to say yes, but he didn’t say no. And that’s enough for me! “Melissa, buckle up. We’ve got a long ride ahead.”

PART TWO: ARRIVAL

10. THE ARRIVAL

Why meet we on the bridge of Time to exchange one greeting and to part?

The Army had been at work in the Oval Office. Technicians had installed TV monitors in all the corners, as well as in front of the President’s desk. They showed the command center of the Soviet Kosmograd satellite. At the moment nothing was happening.

Despite its large size, the Oval Office was jammed. There was the President and Mrs. Coffey, most of the Cabinet, the White House staff, diplomats, TV crew—

Je

It was easy to spot them, once you knew how. They were the ones who never looked at the President. They watched the people who were watching him. Je

He didn’t look happy. Je