But that would have spelled some measure of success for Penn’s party. After an election that left Helen Blanton and Angela Fortnight wanting unified control more than they wanted progress, success for Penn would have meant failure for them.

So, here they were, at the nation’s most desperate moment of crisis, and he was getting lip from the likes of Kiser and Grogan. Sometimes Penn wondered if the television cameras and the dueling partisan news feeds were the only elements that kept members from literally killing each other. With those checks both gone, he worried that he did not possess the leadership skills that would be necessary to keep this deliberative body from sailing off the tracks.

The voice of God announced, “I’ve got something! High-tech comms are all dead, but we’ve got something on an analog channel.”

“What does got something mean?” Penn asked.

“I’m putting you through,” Pete announced. “Go ahead, Beale Air Force Base. You’re speaking to the assembled members of the House of Representatives.”

After a ten-second pause that featured a lot of static, a hesitant male voice spoke from the speakers on the walls and ceiling. “Um, hello?”

Penn said, “Hello, this is Penn Glendale, Speaker of the United States House of Representatives. With whom am I speaking?”

“You guys made it? I thought DC was gone. That’s what they’re saying here.”

“Slow down,” Penn said. “First of all, who are you?”

“I am Captain Cole Brinks, USAF. That’s B-R-I-N-K-S. I’m speaking to you from Beale Air Force Base in California. What’s happening, sir?”

Penn’s mind raced with countless questions he wanted to ask—like, why was he speaking to an O-3 captain instead of a flag officer—but he realized that such questions were mostly irrelevant at the moment. “Tell us what you know, Captain. Were you guys hit, and if so, how badly?”

“Yes, sir, we were hit in what we believe was the second wave. I don’t know the extent of the damage, but I can tell you that my airmen and I are trapped in our bunker.”

Penn sat taller. Did that bit of news run counter to the gloomy assessment presented by Lianne Holt and Mr. Johnson? “What kind of bunker, Captain?”

Hesitation. “I–I’m not at liberty to tell you that, sir.”

Penn felt his ears redden. “You’re speaking to the House of Representatives.”

Another hesitation. “How do I know that?”

Penn started to answer, then realized that he had no response. When he scanned the faces of the other members, he only got stares and shrugs.