by Clyde Key
* * *
After the tour, Ed returned to the Kingman camp and reported to President Litton. Ed called up the president, and then as an afterthought, engaged Everett Lane’s com on a split screen. We might as well take care of all reports at once, he thought.
It was a grim-faced president Ed saw on the wall screen. “You have recent action to report, I take it?”
“Ah... Yes, Ms. President. I do. How did you know?”
“It’s all in the press. They’re quicker with the report than you are!”
“The press! But how did they know? I haven’t told anybody else yet! I thought you’d want to control the announcements.”
“Yes, indeed! But it seems several of your conscripts were in the news media before they were in the army. They still have their old loyalties.”
“Crud! I can’t have that! I’ll get rid of every last one of them right now! I think we’ll even have a courtmartial!” said Lane.
“No, you won’t,” said the president. “I’m having enough trouble politically without a free press confrontation. You’ll both just have to learn to live with it.”
Sure I will! Ed thought to himself. “Yes, Ms. President,” Ed said weakly, though he was already entertaining ideas about moving the troublesome reporters to less sensitive positions.
“One more thing you should know about, Colonel. There’s a move in congress to declare aliens to be people. They’re trying to pass a law that declare any species with at least the intelligence of humans to be people—the equivalent of humans—with comparable global and national constitutional rights.
“What! That’s the stupidest crap I’ve ever heard! That couldn’t possibly pass both houses! Could it?”
“It well might,” said Litton. “Your old nemesis at AABC is behind it all. It seems she’s been working behind my back, lobbying Congress, and she may have had more success than I would have thought.”
“Of course you’ll veto it!” said Lane.
The president paused thoughtfully. “I’ll want to, naturally. But I’ll just have to see what the vote is. If they override a veto, it would be devastating to us.”
“But if this thing goes through, what does that mean for our campaign? For the army’s mission?” Then Ed thought about it. “Never mind. I can see very clearly what it means.”
“Do you have anything else to report, except about the confrontation?” asked the president.
“No. That’s about it,” Ed mumbled.
“Very well, then. I have some other work to do.” Litton’s somber face faded from the screen, leaving only Lane staring numbly at Ed. Then Lane’s countenance vanished too.
26
April 1, 2051
Evan Saxon struggled to make it up on the first step, and then steadied himself with the cane for a few seconds before he tried the second. On the second step, he steadied himself again. Then he stared up at the Capitol Building and calculated how long it would take to reach the top step. And he thought about how exhausted he would be.
“Why don’t you let me get some help?” asked Mark Fenwick, the attorney who had volunteered to help Evan at the hearing. “I could get a wheelchair and take you up the ramp. Or we could take the service elevator.”
“No. I’ll make it. If I don’t go in this way, the reporters will think I’m trying to hide, and I wouldn’t want them to think I’m ashamed of anything I’ve ever done. Because I’m not.”
Fenwick shrugged. “At your age, they wouldn’t think anything except you couldn’t make these ridiculous steps. Besides, I don’t even see any reporters. Maybe they don’t care about your testimony anyway.”
“Nevertheless, I’m going up here. I’ve never been one to take the easy way.”
Fenwick shook his head. Then he took Saxon’s arm and helped him up, silently and one tortuous step at a time. Then they entered through the massive door.
The reporters, who had been waiting for him at the elevator, saw him then. When the reporters rushed to them, Fenwick stepped in front to shield him from the barrage. “Mr. Saxon is not up to answering questions right now, and we are late for the hearing. I promise we will have a written statement for you right after the hearing.”
Just one question!” yelled a woman reporter with a butch haircut. She waved a wireless microphone in the air. “How does it feel to be a traitor?”
“A traitor? Listen, you...” Saxon searched for words. “I’m not the traitor! Those ultraliberal quasi-scientists at ETCC—they’re the traitors! They’ve subverted the institution! They have loaded the courts and thrown out the constitution—all in the name of political correctness!”
Fenwick pulled at his arm. “Come on, Evan. We need to get to the hearing.”
Saxon resisted, turning back to the throng of reporters. “I’ll tell you something else, too! That Norden dame—she’s the worst of the lot! She wouldn’t know truth if it hit her in the face!”
By then, Fenwick was pulling Saxon along toward the hearing room. The reporters were following along, crowding Saxon and Fenwick so much that the old man almost lost his balance. A reporter that Saxon recognized from Political Network News pushed through the crowd to Saxon’s side and thrust a microphone in his face. “How are you going to justify your actions? What are you going to tell the committee?”
“I don’t have to justify my actions! I’m going to tell the committee that I’ve rescued scientific research from political expediency! I’m going to tell them what I’ve done for academic freedom!”
Fenwick opened a door then, and tugged Saxon into the committee hearing room. Uniformed guards kept out the crowd of reporters, much to Saxon’s approval. Until he saw the front of the room was filled with reporters, most of which carried portable recorders. Then there were those video cameras staring down from three walls. Of course, this hearing would be carried live by PNN, and then there would be endless reruns, suitably edited, playing on PNN for the next week.
One at a time, the members of the House Public Policy Committee arrived and were seated at the front of the huge HPPC Inquiry Room, sometimes facetiously called the House Inquisition Room, though not usually within earshot of chairman Darron Gravens or his colleagues. As each committee member settled in, a make-up technician rushed over to prepare that member for the most favorable exposure.
“Hmpf. Nothing is real any more,” said Saxon. “When they get through with Graven, he’ll look like everybody’s favorite grandfather—instead of the stumbling drunk that he is.”
“Shush!” said Fenwick. “Half the people in here can hear you! You don’t realize how loud you talk!”
“Damn if I don’t! I mean for people to hear me! If they didn’t want anybody to hear me, they shouldn’t have told me to come!”
Fenwick glared. “Settle down anyway. When it’s your turn, you’ll get to have your say.”
Evan Saxon and his attorney were seated on the front row, but Saxon craned his neck and stared at the crowd that had gathered in the Inquiry Room. Soon he noticed that three of PNN’s four video cameras were aimed directly at him. Saxon grinned and waved for the cameras. Then all but one of the cameras swung back to the front where chairman Graven was practicing poses while he watched himself in the small monitor on his desk.
“What a pompous ass!” said Saxon. “Do you suppose he’s sober?”
Fenwick grimaced and rubbed his hand across his forehead. “Why on earth did I let you come here? I could have got you out of this!”
“I don’t answer to you! I got a subpoena and I came because I aim to tell it like it is!”
Then a sharp whack from Graven’s gavel quieted Saxon, as well as the buzz that had settled over the audience before the public inquiry began. “If Professor Saxon and his attorney will allow us, it’s time for these proceedings to start.”
“Take it away!” said Saxon, with a wave. Then the few snickers grew into rocking laughter across the auditorium before Graven slammed his gavel on the desk again.
Then, with an eye
on his monitor, Graven turned and adjusted his pose until he seemed quite satisfied with the effect before he spoke into his microphone. “Good afternoon, citizens. And we also wish a good afternoon to those of you representing the media here today, because it is your sacred responsibility to inform America about the workings of their government, in an unbiased and impartial manner. I must say that I’m quite confident you will all report in exactly that way, based on my personal observations since I’ve chaired this committee.”
“He’s really laying it on thick,” said Saxon. The comment drew muted laughs from all those people who sat near him, except for attorney Fenwick who gave him an angry stare.
Chairman Graven noticed, but thought better about admonishing the elderly professor. “We need to hurry along,” said Graven as he stared at Saxon. “I must remind everyone here that although this is not a court, we must follow certain rules in the interests of justice and truth, and these are similar to rules of court.
“Our purpose here today is to uncover the truth about allegations that certain individuals have conspired to hide scientific evidence from the very government agencies that have been established to study it, particularly in regard to communication with aliens from outer space. It has been alleged that several people, including Professor Saxon who is here today—it is alleged that they have deliberately withheld virtually all of the alien communications received so far. If that is indeed the case, it is very definitely a breech of the public trust—privately undermining Public Policy as established by a legitimate government agency, the Extra-Terrestrial Communication Commission.”
“That’s some speech,” mumbled Saxon. “Is he up for re-election this year?” The comment drew a sharp poke from Fenwick. It also drew a stare from Graven.
The chairman continued. “The committee calls Helen Norden for our first witness.”
The audience watched silently as Norden, assisted by a nurse, made her way slowly to the witness stand and was sworn in by the sergeant-at-arms. This is everybody’s own grandmother, thought Saxon. Kindly, silver-haired, and very serene, she smiled shyly for the audience before whispering something to the nurse who had assisted her. The nurse patted her shoulder softly and smiled. And Evan Saxon thought, they’ll never see her for what she is. Nobody will ever see that Helen Norden is conniving and manipulative. But I know what she really is and I’m going to do my best to show the world.
“Now, Ms. Norden, it is such a pleasure to have you here today.”
Norden beamed. “Thank you, Congressman Graven.”
“You’ve been in this endeavor for a long time, haven’t you?” asked Graven.
“Why, yes, I have. I’ve spent just about my entire adult life in public service.”
“Yes, yes. We’re all aware of that. We’re quite aware of the impact you’ve had on the sciences, especially the social sciences. That’s why you’ve become known as the Margaret Mead of Outer Space.”
Norden became serious. “That’s very flattering. I’ve tried—as have my co-workers—but it has been so difficult because of the obstacles that were created by those who would subvert our great work.” Then Norden sobbed and dabbed a handkerchief at tears that were beginning to trickle down her face.
“I know this must be painful for you,” said Graven. “But try to bear with us, please. The truth must come out.
Norden sniffed and nodded to the chairman. “I’m fine.”
“At this time, I’m going to allow members of HPPC to question Ms. Norden. After that, she can make a statement for the committee, or we can simply distribute copies of her sworn deposition, since this is such an obvious strain for her. We are now open for questions from our members.”
Congresswoman Andrea Papillon from upstate New York had the first question. “Ms. Norden, when did you first become aware the technical subcommittee had deceived you?”
“Some of my colleagues—and Arnetta Washington, in particular—have always believed that Saxon and his accomplices were up to no good. But I suppose I’m just basically too trusting for my own good. Until we had the confession from Homer Philips, I didn’t believe anybody could be that crass, that... subversive!”
“Bullcrap!” muttered Saxon. “She’s the most conniving old biddy in government!” This drew chuckles from the people near Saxon, and another whack from Graven’s gavel.
Then Rep. Bolind from Kentucky asked, “Surely, you must have had some suspicion about the technicians. Couldn’t you tell from their reports that something was not quite right?”
“Yes, of course! But I thought all that was not right was their peevishness about being out of control! I never dreamed the reports were completely fabricated!”
Each of the nine HPPC members asked one question of Helen Norden before she was dismissed. To Evan Saxon’s thinking, each question was leading, phrased to put Norden in the best light and cause Saxon and his partners to appear evil. Even the three members who were known to be unsympathetic to the social activists were gentle with Norden.
Then it was Saxon’s turn to testify. He made his way to the witness stand, where he was asked to recite an oath to tell the truth, and then was warned sternly by Graven that perjury would not go unpunished.
“I don’t remember you rattling Norden’s cage,” said Saxon. “If you don’t talk to that lying old crone about perjury, there’s no call to talk to me like that? This is a show, isn’t it? Haven’t you already decided I’m guilty as sin?”
Graven huffed and his nose reddened, even under the makeup. “This is not a court, Mr. Saxon. However, this committee is an institution of the United States Government and it must be accorded respect. Or I will have you held in contempt!”
“I am already contemptible of your House Political Correctness Committee! I believe it is unconstitutional because it limits free speech and punishes people for disagreeing with the politicians in power!”
“Mr. Saxon! This committee’s constitutionality has already been determined by the Supreme Court!” Graven’s nose was getting even redder.
“Of course it was upheld! Nine to eight on a packed court!”
Chairman Graven started to fume and sputter, until Congressman Eames who sat to Graven’s left tapped his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Then Eames spoke. “Our chairman needs a short break. I will fill in until he returns.” Graven got up clumsily and retired through the door at the back of the inquiry room.
Eames stared at Evan Saxon. “Before we go any further, Professor Saxon, would you agree to stipulate that you and your accomplices conspired to deceive the Message Subcommittee of the Extra-Terrestrial Communications Commission, as well as the rest of the government, and the people of the United States? And that you, in fact, did deceive all of us?”
“Pardon? What was the question again?”
Eames frowned. “You know the question! Why did you and those old buddies of yours lie to the public?”
“Actually, Congressman, none of us ever lied to the public. The public never asked us anything. Norden lied though—every single day. That old... that... well, that woman made up stuff. It didn’t matter what reports we gave her. She made up all of that alien psychology business and all of that alien social model crap, too!”
“At least her group seriously studied the aliens,” said the congressman. “And they obviously accomplished a whole lot, even without help from the technicians.”
Then Congressman Danson of Idaho had a question. “Mr. Saxon, how did a person like you come to be on a presidential commission anyway?”
“Quite simply, it’s because the commission was my idea. I suggested it to President Rogers back in , uh... 2025, I believe. He put Lawrence Jantzen in charge of it, but Jantzen asked me to serve on it because it had been my suggestion in the first place, and because I wrote up the original charter and most of the guidelines.”
“What! Professor, that is not correct! It’s in the history books: ETCC was Jantzen’s brainchild.”
“History books! I was there,
and I remember it like it was yesterday! Jantzen never thought of anything. He appropriated just about every good idea for his own! And several bad ones, too!”
“Sir! Lawrence Jantzen was a great American statesman! I won’t stand for your insinuations!”
“Insinuations, nothing! I’m telling you straight out!” screamed Saxon.
That drew a sharp rap of the gavel, and Eames said, “That’s quite enough! I will not allow this session to degrade to a shouting match!”
Then a light came on in front of the congressman at the far left of the panel, and Eames looked that way and nodded. “You have a question for the professor, Congressman Walls?”
“Yes. And a statement, if you don’t mind.” Walls took a sheaf of notes from his coat pocket. “It is my considered belief that any agency of the United States Government must be accorded respect, because each one of these agencies—committees, commissions, bureaus—each represents citizens. And each fulfills a role that has been mandated by Americans through their representatives in Congress. I would be remiss in my role as a congressman if I didn’t take strong exception to any and all who would thwart the will of the great American people. That is why I demand today that Professor Saxon and all his accomplices come clean. That is why I demand that each of these subversives begin to make amends to their countrymen; that they begin to correct the great evil they’ve perpetrated!
“Now, Professor. I wish for you to tell this panel just how long this deception has gone on. When did it start?”
“Guilty, huh!” said Evan. “Wouldn’t it save a lot of time if you sent in the firing squad first? Or did you plan on a hanging?” Fenwick tugged furiously at Evan’s sleeve.
“What?” snapped Walls.
Fenwick stood. “My client is not a well man and should not even be here today. Professor Saxon came against my advice and his personal physician’s advice because he feels strongly that he and his colleagues are being railroaded. I believe, as does he, that this committee has already formed its opinions and that this inquiry is a sham for political posturing. I submit that...”
Eames interrupted with a bang of the gavel. “This is not a court. This committee’s sole purpose is gathering information and nobody is being railroaded!”
“Very well, then. Professor Saxon has already provided this court—I mean panel—with a deposition that answers each and every written question submitted by your members. We also wished to supply this document to the press services but I want to make it known in this forum that Chairman Gravens ordered us not to present any information to the press before it was reviewed by HPPC. This is wrong and it infringes gravely on my client’s constitutional rights to freedom of speech!”
“Now, now, Mr. ...ah” Eames stuttered while he glanced at his notes. “Mr. Fenton, this committee’s procedures have been upheld by the Supreme Court, however narrowly as your client claims. So we will proceed.”
“Very well, Mr. Vice Chairman. My client has already supplied the deposition that you have in your possession right now. Therefore, it is now allowable to supply this to the Press. And I believe I have enough copies for all of you.” Fenwick looked back to the gallery where the reporters sat, and held up a stack of papers.
“What! I should hold you in contempt!” screamed Eames.
“You can’t do that!” said Fenwick. Only the chairman can, after a vote of the entire committee, and Chairman Gravens is not here. Please note that Professor Saxon has responded to your subpoena. Now because of his extremely poor health, I am insisting that he not testify any further in person. Professor Saxon is leaving.”
Fenwick helped Evan to his feet and then the elderly gentleman hobbled toward the door as spectators buzzed about this development. As Saxon and his attorney reached the door, Graven returned. Now the congressman was even less steady, but his mood had improved.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” said Graven. “Is it over already?”
“Might as well be,” said Eames.
