"They should be here with me, those three geologists," the President said. He got to his feet and walked away from the overhang, brushing his hands on his pants. The Secret Service agents watched him closely, faces impassive. Crockerman turned to Harry, still clutching his black notebook, and then nodded at the cinder cone. "You know what my conference with Young and Xavier is all about."

"Yes, Mr. President," Harry said, matching Crockerman's steady gaze.

"They're going to ask me if we should nuke this whole area."

"I'm sure that's going to be mentioned, Mr. President."

"What do you think?"

Harry considered for a moment, eyebrows meeting. "The entire situation is an enigma to me, sir. Things don't fit together."

"Mr. Gordon, can we effectively retaliate against this?" He indicated the cinder cone.

"The Guest says we cannot. I tend to accept that statement for the time being, sir."

"We keep calling him the Guest, with a capital G," Crockerman said, coming to a halt about twenty yards from the formation, then turning to face south, examining the western curve. "How did that come about?"

"Hollywood's absorbed just about every other name," McClennan observed.

"Carl has been an avid watcher of television," Crockerman explained candidly to Arthur, "before his duties made that impossible. He says it lets him keep in touch with the public pulse."

"The name obviously evolved as a way to avoid other, more highly colored words," McClennan said.

"The Guest told me he believes in God."

Arthur chose not to correct the President.

"From what I understand," Crockerman continued, his face drawn, eyes almost frantic above a forced calm, "the Guest's world was found wanting, and eliminated." He seemed to be searching the faces of Arthur and those nearest to him for sympathy or support. Arthur was too stunned to say anything. "If that's the case, then the agency of our own destruction awaits us inside this mountain."

"We must have more cooperation from Australia," McClennan said, clenching one fist and shaking it in front of him.

"They're telling quite a different story down there, aren't they?" The President began walking back to the trucks. "I think I've seen enough. My eyes can't squeeze truth out of rocks and sand."

"Making tighter arrangements with Australia," Rotterjack observed, "means telling them what we have here, and we're not sure we can risk that yet."

"There's a possibility we're not the only ones who have 'bogeys,'" Harry said, giving the last word an almost comic emphasis.

Crockerman stopped and turned to face Harry. "Do you have any evidence for that?"

"None, sir. But we've asked for the NSA and some of our team to check it out."

"How?"

"By comparing recent satellite photographs with past records."

"More than two bogeys," Crockerman said. "That would be something, wouldn't it?"

Chapter 14

14