Читаем Under the Dome полностью

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming,” Cox said. “I’ll be brief, and then I’ll take a few questions. The situation as regards Chester’s Mill and what we’re all now calling the Dome is as it was: the town continues to be cut off, we still have no idea about what is causing this situation or what brought it about, and we have as yet had no success in breaching the barrier. You would know, of course, if we had. The best scientists in America—the best in the entire world—are on the case, however, and we’re considering a number of options. Do not ask me about these, because you’ll get no answers at this time.”

The reporters murmured discontentedly. Cox let them. Below him, the CNN super switched to NO ANSWERS AT THIS TIME. When the murmuring died, Cox went on.

“As you’re aware, we have established a no-go zone around the Dome, initially of a mile, expanded to two on Sunday and four on Tuesday. There were a number of reasons for this, the most important being that the Dome is dangerous to people with certain implants, such as pacemakers. A second reason is that we were concerned the field generating the Dome might have other harmful effects which would be less clearly recognized.”

“Are you talking about radiation, Colonel?” someone called.

Cox froze him with a glance, and when he seemed to consider the reporter properly chastised (not Wolfie, Rose was pleased to see, but that half-bald no-spin yapper from FOX News), he went on.

“We now believe that there are no harmful effects, at least in the short term, and so we have designated Friday, October twenty-seventh—the day after tomorrow—as Visitors Day at the Dome.”

A perfect fury of thrown questions went up at this. Cox waited it out, and when the audience had quieted down, he took a remote from the shelf under the podium and pressed a button. A high-resolution photograph (much too good to have been downloaded from Google Earth, in Julia’s estimation) popped up on the white screen. It showed The Mill and both towns to the south, Motton and Castle Rock. Cox put down the controller and produced a laser-pointer.

The super at the bottom of the screen now read FRIDAY DESIGNATED VISATORS DAY AT THE DOME. Julia smiled. Colonel Cox had caught CNN with its spell-checker down.

“We believe we can process and accommodate twelve hundred visitors,” Cox said crisply. “These will be limited to close relatives, at least this time… and all of us hope and pray there will never have to be a next time. Rally points will be here, at the Castle Rock Fair-grounds, and here, at Oxford Plains Speedway.” He highlighted both locations. “We will lay on two dozen buses, twelve at each location. These will be provided by six surrounding school districts, which are canceling classes that day to help in this effort, and we offer them our greatest thanks. A twenty-fifth bus will be available for press at Shiner’s Bait and Tackle in Motton.” Dryly: “Since Shiner’s is also an agency liquor store, I’m sure most of you know it. There will also be one, I repeat, one, video truck allowed on this trip. You’ll arrange pool coverage, ladies and gentlemen, the coverage provider to be chosen by lottery.”

A groan went up at this, but it was perfunctory.

“There are forty-eight seats on the press bus, and obviously there are hundreds of press representatives here, from all over the world—”

“Thousands!” a gray-haired man shouted, and there was general laughter.

“Boy, I’m glad someone’s havin fun,” Ernie Calvert said bitterly.

Cox allowed himself a smile. “I stand corrected, Mr. Gregory. Seats will be allocated according to your news organization—TV networks, Reuters, Tass, AP, and so on—and it’s up to those organizations to pick their representatives.”

“Better be Wolfie from CNN, that’s all I can say,” Rose announced.

The reporters were babbling excitedly.

“May I go on?” Cox asked. “And those of you sending text messages, kindly stop.”

“Ooo,” Jackie said. “I love a forceful man.”

“Surely you folks recall that you’re not the story here? Would you behave this way if it was a mine cave-in, or people trapped under collapsed buildings after an earthquake?”

Silence greeted this, the kind that falls over a fourth-grade class after the teacher finally loses his temper. He really was forceful, Julia thought, and for a moment wished with all her heart that Cox were here under the Dome, and in charge. But of course, if pigs had wings, bacon would be airborne.

“Your job, ladies and gentlemen, is twofold: to help us get the word out, and to make sure that things go smoothly on Visitors Day once it does.”

The CNN super became PRESS TO AID VISATORS ON FRIDAY.

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