Von Neumann’s War

“Look into that,” the President said seriously. “I’d like the capability. Let’s get this probe on the way to Mars, first, and as fast as we can. Kevin, in the meantime I want you and Vicki to come up with a real contingency plan. Sooner or later, the public is going to find out about this. What do we do then? I don’t want to get caught flat-footed by a reporter on this issue a few months from now. And if it turns out that our new neighbors aren’t friendly, I want to be prepared for that also.”

“One more thing, Mr. President,” the DDNRO asked.

“Yes, Ronny?”

“We need this project to be in a location that already has plenty of scientists and engineers available and can support the security requirements as well as the manufacturing and integration. I would originally think LockMart’s facilities in Colorado, but I’m not sure there are enough skilled and cleared engineers there to work three or four shifts continuously. If we pulled them from everything they’re doing perhaps, but I don’t know.”

“We need this on a military base in order to keep it protected and buffer it from the public — especially if they find out about it,” the NSA replied.

“I agree,” the Chairman said. “And it needs an airport on-base or at least nearby. What about Patrick down in Florida? Or Vandenberg — the 30th Space Wing is out there.”

“I don’t know if there are enough engineers there. Some would have to fly in and wouldn’t that cause some suspicion?” the science advisor asked.

“I don’t want a lot of suspicion for now.” The President looked at the white paper on his desk. “What are you asking me, Ronny?”

“Well, sir, I think we’ll need authority to commandeer a base somewhere, freeze the period of performance on some current space hardware contracts, then fly a lot of folks into that base. That is unless we can find a civilian facility with a lot of technical folks and the infrastructure to support them.”

“I see.” The President picked up the white paper and handed it to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. “Kevin, I think the answer is right here in front of us. Make it happen.”

* * *

“General Riggs, sir, don’t forget your tee-time in forty-five minutes at the officers’ club,” Sarah said, sticking her head in his office. The two-star was such a workaholic that he would “forget” appearances like charity golf tournaments if not badgered into them. But a certain congressman from the district his base was in would be on his team and his base was on the base realignment and closure list. Brownie points counted, even though the Redstone Arsenal was eleventh on the list. He had warned Sarah not to let him miss the golf tournament.

Riggs looked up from his desk at Sarah, who was still standing in his doorway.

“Thanks, Sarah,” he said sarcastically. He looked at the little wooden box on the right side of his desk marked “in” and the stack of paperwork a foot high and leaning dangerously over the edge of the box. Then he looked at the nearly empty “out” box beside it and shook his head. “The things we must do.”

Sarah smiled.

“You want me to send Colonel Roberts?”

“Now, Sarah, what kind of message would that send to Congressman Fields? I’ll go.” General Riggs set his pen back in its holder by his nameplate, then stretched his arms. “I’ll just check my e-mail real quick.”

Riggs turned to his laptop and looked out his window over the open court of the Sparkman Center at the people having lunch outside below.

“If only it would rain,” he muttered, but there was no chance of that; the sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the clear Alabama sky.

Sarah turned back to her desk outside the general’s door, laughing, and was startled by the phone buzzing. Sarah picked up the phone but knocked her coffee cup off the desk as she sat back down in her chair.

“General Riggs’ office, this is Sarah, how can I help you?” She stretched the phone cord down and struggled to hold it to her ear as she attempted to retrieve her cup and mop up the coffee spill with a PostIt note. When that didn’t work she reached for a box of Kleenex on the other side of her desk and in the process sent her jar of hospitality peppermints across the floor.

“Hello, this is the office of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. General Mitchell would like to speak with General Riggs. Is he present?” the voice on the phone said. Sarah looked up over her desk quickly to make certain there was nobody hiding there with a candid camera.

“Uh, yes, he is… If you’ll hold a second I will transfer the call,” Sarah replied, unsure if the call was real or not. She timidly pressed the transfer digits. “Sir, I think you should take this call.”

“Who is it?” Riggs asked as his phone began to buzz.

“Well, sir, I’m not real certain but they claimed it was the Office of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”

“What? It’s probably Fields messing with me.” Riggs picked up the phone. “General Riggs here.” There was a short pause, then a click.