The president held up his hand. “No. Not what you believe. What you know.”

“Apparently—”

“Certainly. What you know certainly.”

“A genius genetics engineer called Turner who was working in the nonhuman bioformation project at Dulce, New Mexico, developed a means of creating artificial creatures, and—”

“I’m seeing girders and beams and—”

“That’s something the creatures themselves designed. It’s got to do with gravity-based war fighting. And it’s a communications platform. It generates a broad-scale microwave field. Apparently, the creatures are networked and use this field to communicate with one another. The field surrounds the device for about a hundred kilometers in all directions.”

What in hell was all this about? Dulce, New Mexico? He’d never heard of the place. But why should that be a surprise? Since the day he walked into the White House—before—he’d been blindsided by intelligence types. He wanted to flare up at Dick, but he controlled his temper. Dick had probably been blindsided himself from deeper inside the Langley rathole. Some damn maggot down in there concealing some god-awful screwup.

From his two years of experience in this office, he knew one thing for certain: The president of the United States was the last man to find out and the first to be blamed.

“So, okay, it looks like it’s just sitting there. So what?”

General Hollis said, “Mr. President!”

“Yes, General?”

Dick Lamson reacted. “No! No, wait. Wait just a second, General. Let me do this.”

“This is urgent!”

“Let me bring him up to speed! Excuse me, Mr. President.”

The president held up his hands. “Everybody stop yapping! You guys want to fuck each other in the ass, be my guest, but step out into the hall, please. Now let’s go ahead with this. Dick?”

“All right. Back in 1952, a group of aliens met with President Eisenhower, and—”

“Aliens?”

“Nonhuman. Nonhuman beings. They—”

“That’s all real? That bullshit? And this is theirs? This thing?”

“What has happened is that a rogue scientist used their technology to develop an extraordinary means of genetic manipulation and created an entirely new type of intelligent creature. Smarter, faster, and more powerful than us. He called them hybrids. They were intended to replace human soldiers on the battlefield.”

Lamson showed the president Dr. Turner’s list of hybrid criteria, a famous document in the hidden world of biomechanical engineering.

“What the hell,” the president muttered as he read. “‘He is a device, not a human being.’ And more intelligent than we are. Come on, nobody could build anything like this. This is impossible!”

“Sir, no, it is not. They were supposed to have been destroyed.”

“They were built?”

“They were built.”

“Oh, wonderful, I’m so happy. Please arrest this guy, this Turner, and put him in jail. ADX Florence, deepest hole they have, and then let’s get on with reacting to the frickin’ storm!”