PENN GLENDALE’S HEAD SNAPPED UP AS THE SPEAKERS IN THE CEILING popped to life and the voice of God—whose name was Pete—announced, “Members of the United States House of Representatives and members of the Unites States Senate, report to your respective chambers immediately. I am authorized to tell you that Iran has launched a nuclear strike against the State of Israel.”

In a single instant, in the snap of a finger, a beat of the heart, everything changed inside the Annex. Penn gasped when he heard the words, and he looked over to Strasky. His chief of staff had turned gray, almost blue around the mouth.

“Did I just hear that?” He’d intended the question as a thought and was startled to hear the words come from his throat.

“I am reading from a report received from Washington,” the voice of God continued. “The United States confirms that Jerusalem, Tel Aviv and Haifa were all targeted by nuclear warheads, and the damage in all cases was extreme to total. Initial estimated loss of life tops two million souls. Repeating . . .”

“God help us,” Penn said. He stood taller, did his best to brush the wrinkles out of his uniform, and he walked around to the business side of his desk, where he took a seat.

Several other members had filtered in over the past ten or fifteen minutes, but most had been wandering about the hall outside. They’d looked numb, confused. This experience was so fundamentally disorienting that people seemed palsied by it all, as if no one knew what to do or where to go.

Penn understood. This was new territory. Other than taking shelter and saying prayers, he didn’t know what his next step should be. Such was the nature of making history, he supposed.

At the back of the chamber, high atop the steeply sloped auditorium seats, the double doors crashed open, and the flood of humanity began. Unlike the Senate, the House of Representatives did not have assigned seats. Penn noted that for the first time in his decades of service in the House, the seats filled from the front of the chamber, not from the rear.

“Penn, what’s happening?” someone asked.

“You know what I know,” he replied. “I guess we’ll all learn the details together.” He pressed the communications button on the desk and said, “Pete, are you listening?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Speaker,” the young man said. “Always.”

“I need a secure link to the White House right away.”

“We’re working on that, Mr. Speaker,” Pete said. A phone buzzed on Pete’s side of the glass and he picked it up. Listened. Then he pressed the button next to the boom mic. “Mr. Speaker, I was just told that the president is being evacuated to her bunker. It will be a few moments before that link can be established.”