A Time for Patriots

“I never used dirty bombs on anyone!” Andorsen shouted. Now the assemblage was looking suspiciously at him instead of Patrick or the CID. “That’s a lie! Prove that I’ve ever used dirty bombs! Yes, I have explosives, and I’ve lashed out at enemies of this community! But I’ve never used dirty—”

“You’re a liar, Andorsen,” a voice shouted behind him. It was Michael Fitzgerald, pushing a cart carrying a large wooden crate with J. ANDORSEN CONSTRUCTION stenciled in black letters. “If you’ve never used dirty bombs, what’s this ?” And Fitzgerald kicked the crate open…

… revealing a large steel-and-concrete cask, marked with radioactive-material symbology.

“You planted that on me!” Andorsen shouted. “It’s a plant! You’re trying to set me up!”

“You murdered my friend right in front of my eyes, you lousy bastard,” Fitzgerald shouted. “You had me spy on my friends and inform on them to the FBI. All I wanted was a job, Andorsen — you turned me into a traitor.”

“No one’s going to believe you about anything, you stupid loser,” Andorsen said, “especially if you’re dead !” And he reached into his jacket for his Smith & Wesson.357 Magnum revolver…

… but Fitzgerald was faster. He pulled out a Browning M1911 semiautomatic pistol and fired three times before Andorsen’s revolver could clear the flying jacket.

“I may be a loser,” Fitzgerald said, “but I can draw and shoot better than you any day.” He stepped over the body, off the stage, and over to Patrick, Rob, David, and John. “I’m sorry, guys,” he said. “I told Andorsen about your surveillance, the Tin Man, the robot, and the backups, and he told the FBI. I was just trying to get into his good graces so he’d give me a job. I set up Leif with Andorsen’s guards, but I didn’t think they’d kill him! Then I helped the van get on base. Jesus, I really screwed up.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Patrick said. He turned to the crowd. “Go home, everyone,” he said in a loud voice. “Go home, hug your family, and try to trust the government again. It may not be perfect, but it’s ours. If you don’t like it — fix it. Don’t try to destroy it.” He looked up at the CID. “Let’s go, big guy.”

“Okay, Dad,” Brad said — and Patrick thought he could hear Brad’s own voice, not the electronic one.

Epilogue

I find no hint throughout the Universe of good or ill, of blessing or of curse; I find alone Necessity Supreme.

— James Thomson

Downtown Battle Mountain

Days later

Patrick emerged from the hotel hand in hand with Darrow Horton and walked to the hotel’s parking lot. “Are you sure you can’t stay one more night?” he asked. “I can fly you to Reno in the Centurion so you can catch your flight.”

“When you get a real airplane, Patrick, then I’ll fly with you,” Darrow quipped. “Anyway, the U.S. attorney has dropped all the charges, and they said they’d talk with the FAA about those sensor things you put on the airplanes. It looks like Civil Air Patrol is interested in installing them on all their planes.”

“Excellent,” Patrick said. “That’d be a nice little piece of business for Sky Masters.”

They were silent for a few moments; then: “Are you sure about all this, Patrick?” she asked. “You’re giving up the appointment to be the vice president’s space policy adviser?”

“Yes,” Patrick said. “I’ve been to Washington and the White House already, and didn’t really care for it.”

“But… I’m in Washington,” she said. “You and Brad could come and stay with me, and we could… take it from there?” He said nothing, which was all the answer she needed. “So what are you going to do?” she asked. “Go to Sacramento? Arizona? Las Vegas?”

“No — I’m going to stay right here,” Patrick said.

“Here? And do what? The base is closed. With the base closed, Battle Mountain will practically be a ghost town!”

“I’ve accepted a job,” Patrick said. “I’m going to be vice president of Sky Masters, Inc., taking over Jon’s position. And my first order of business will be to move the company to Battle Mountain.”

“What?”

“I’ve always said that this place has a lot going for it — wide-open space, good people, isolated but central to a lot of big-city talent, fresh air, and low costs,” Patrick said. “All this place needed was a commitment . I tried it with the air base — now I’m going to try it with Sky Masters. I’m going to hire the best young minds in the country and build the next generation of bombers, space systems, weapons, satellites, or whatever the newest technology will be, right here in the ‘Armpit of the World.’ In ten years, this will be the space and technology capital of the world.”

“Unbelievable,” Darrow said. She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Well, if anyone can pull it off, you can. Good-bye, Patrick. Call if you need me.” And she drove off without looking back.