Free Footfall by Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle Page A

Marine led them through another corridor.
    In all her years in Washington, Jenny had never been to the White House. Her parents and Colonel Weston had been to White House parties and even a state dinner; it seemed ridiculous for the Crichton girls to take a public guided tour. One day they’d be invited.
    And this is the day, Jenny thought.
    They came to another corridor. A young man in a gray suit waited there. “Eleven o’clock,” the Marine said.
    “Right. Hi, I’m Jack Clybourne. I’m supposed to check your identification.”
    He smiled as he said it, but he seemed very serious. He looked very young and clean-cut, and very athletic. He inspected General Gillespie, then Jenny.
    They took out identification cards. Clybourne glanced at them, but Jenny thought he looked at them superficially. He was much more interested in the visitors than in their papers. Doesn’t miss a detail. Joe Gland, thinks he’s irresistible.
    Finally he seemed satisfied and led them along a corridor to the Oval Office.
    The interior looked very much the way it did on television, with the President seated behind the big desk. They were both in unifonn, so they saluted as they approached the desk.
    David Coffey seemed embarrassed. He acknowledged their salutes with a wave. “Glad to see you.” He sounded as if he meant it. “Captain Jeanette Crichton,” he said carefully. His brows lifted slightly in thought, and Jenny was sure that he’d remember her name from now on. “And General Gillespie. Good to see you again.”
    “Thank you, Mr. President,” Edmund said.
    Ed’s as nervous as I am, Jenny thought. I didn’t think he would be. She glanced around the office. Behind the President, on a credenza, was a red telephone. The phone, Jenny thought. At SAC headquarters the general in command had two telephones, one red to communicate with his forces, and one gold. This would be the other end of the gold phone…
    “Captain, this is Hap Aylesworth,” the President said. He indicated a seated man. Aylesworth’s face seemed flushed, and his necktie was loosened. He stood to shake hands with her.
    “Please be seated,” the President said. “Now, Captain, tell me everything you know about this.”
    She took the offered chair, sitting on its edge, both feet on the floor, feet together, her skin pulled down over her knees, as she’d been taught in officer’s training classes. “I don’t know much, Mr. President,” she said. “I was at the Mauna Loa Observatory.”
    “How did you happen to be there?” Aylesworth asked.
    “I was invited to Hawaii to address an engineering conference. I took a couple of extra days leave. While I was swimming I met Richard Owen, who turned out to be an astronomer, and he invited me up to see the observatory.”
    “Owen,” Aylesworth said pensively.
    “Come on, Hap, we have confirmation from every place we logically could get confirmation,” the President said. He smiled thinly. “Mr. Aylesworth can’t quite get over the notion that this is a put-up job. Could it have been?”
    Jenny frowned in thought. “Yes, sir, but I don’t believe it. What would be the motivation?”
    “There must be forty science-fiction novels with that plot,” Aylesworth said. “Scientists get together. Convince the stupid political and military people that the aliens are coming. Unite Earth, end wars …”
    “The Air Force Observatory reports the same thing,” Ed Gillespie said. “Now that they know what to look for.”
    The President nodded. “As do a number of other sources. Hap, if it’s a plot, there are an awful lot of plotters involved. You’d think one would have spilled the beans by now.”
    “Yes, sir,” Aylesworth said. “And I suppose we’re sure this isn’t something the Russians cooked up to get us off guard.”
    Both Jenny and General Gillespie shook their heads. “Not a chance,” Gillespie said.
    “No, I suppose not,” Aylesworth said. “My apologies, Captain, I’m having trouble