Free Footfall by Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle Page B

getting used to the notion of little green men from outer space.”
    “Or big black ones,” Ed Gillespie said.
    The President eyed Gillespie in curiosity. “What makes you say that? Surely you don’t have any knowledge?”
    “No, sir. But they’re as likely to be big and black as they are to be little and green. If we had any idea of where they came from, we might be able to figure something out.”
    “Saturn,” Jenny said. “Dr. Mouton had a computer program.” Alice Mouton had wanted to lecture, and Jenny had listened carefully. “We don’t know how fast they came, and Saturn must have moved since they left, but if you give them almost any decent velocity, they started in a patch of sky that had Saturn in it.”
    “Saturn,” Aylesworth said. “Saturnians?”
    “I doubt it,” Ed Gillespie said. “Saturn just doesn’t get enough sunlight energy for a complex organism to evolve there. Much less a civilization.”
    “Sure about that?” the President asked.
    “No, sir,”
    “Neither is the National Academy of Sciences,” the President said. “At least those I could get hold of. But the consensus is that the ship must have gone to Saturn from somewhere else. Now all we have to do is find the somewhere else.”
    “Maybe we can ask them,” Jenny said.
    “Oddly enough, we thought of that,” Aylesworth said.
    “With what result?” Gillespie asked.
    “None.” Aylesworth shrugged. “So far they haven’t answered. Anyway. Mr. President, I’m satisfied. It’s real.”
    “Good,” the President said. “In that case, if you’d ask Mr. Dawson and Admiral Carrell to come in …”
    Gillespie and Jenny stood. Wes Dawson came in first. “Hello, Ed, Jenny,” he said.
    “Ah. You both know Congressman Dawson, then,” the President said.
    “Yes, sir,” Ed Gillespie said.
    “Of course you would,” David Coffey said. “You told Mr. Dawson about the alien ship. Have you met Admiral Carrell?”
    “Yes, sir,” Ed said. “But I think Jenny hasn’t.”
    Admiral Carrell was approaching retirement age, and he looked it, with silver hair and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. He shook hands with her, masculine fashion. His hand was firm, and so was his voice. His manner made it clear that he knew precisely who Jenny was. He waited until the President invited them to sit, then again until Jenny was seated, before he took his own seat. “Nice work, Captain.” he said. “Not every officer would have realized the significance of what you saw.”
    Interesting, she thought. Does he take this much trouble with everyone he meets? “Thank you, Admiral.”
    Congressman Dawson had taken the chair closest to the President. “How will Congress treat this, Wes?” the President asked.
    “I don’t know them all, Mr. President,” Dawson said.
    “Will I get support for a declaration of emergency?”
    “I don’t know, sir,” Dawson said. “There will certainly be opposition.”
    “Damn fools,” Admiral Carrell said.
    “What makes you think the aliens won’t be friendly?” Wes Dawson demanded.
    “The aliens may be friendly, but a Russian mobilization without reaction from us would be a disaster. It might even tempt them to something they normally wouldn’t think of,” Carrell spoke evenly.
    “Really?” Dawson said. His tone made it less a question than a statement.
    “Will they mobilize?” the President asked.
    “We’ll let Captain Crichton answer,” the Admiral said. “Perhaps Mr. Dawson will be more likely to believe someone he knows. Captain?”
    I’ve just been set up, Jenny thought. So that’s how it’s done. But I’ve no choice. “Yes, sir, they will.” She hesitated. “And if we don’t react, there could be trouble.”
    “Why is that?” the President prompted.
    “Sir, it’s part of their doctrine. If they could liberate the world from capitalism without risk to the homeland, and didn’t do it, they’d be traitors to their own doctrine.”
    Admiral Carrell said, “They’re