November 12, 09:15
Today was the first day of briefings with high level government officials. The schedule is as follows:
Bi-Partisan Luncheon, November 15
Party Officials Meeting, November 16
Security Council Meetings, November 17 & 18
Homeland Security Briefing, November 21
Foreign Affairs Briefing, November 22
Thanksgiving Break, November 23 – 26
Cabinet Interviews, November 29 – December 10
Justice Department Briefing, December 13
FBI Briefing, December 14
CIA Briefing, December 15
U.S. Treasury Briefing, December 16
Senate Committee Briefings, December 17- 22
Christmas at home
Senate Committee Briefings Continue, January 5-9
Secret Service Briefing, January 12
White House tour and orientation, January 13
Pre-presidency interviews, January 14-16
Year to date briefings from all cabinet positions, January 19
Inauguration Day, January 20
It’s quite a full schedule, but not as hectic as the next four years, I suspect. I guess I better get some sleep while I can.
The journal entries continued, but Daniel ignored them. He flipped to the entry from January 13th, and read it slowly.
Wow, who knew the White House was so amazing. I can admit here that today was the first day I had ever been inside. In a way, it is so antique and historic that I feel totally uncomfortable. On the other hand, being able to walk to my office everyday is nice. I won’t miss traffic. The rooms downstairs are especially amazing. It’s as if they were built to run the world, like the Wizard of Oz behind his curtain, only the buttons and levers don’t just scare people, they can kill people. To think that a man could start and survive a nuclear war from those rooms is unbelievable. There are several codes that I have to memorize, and I felt that the safest place to keep them was in my wallet. They are all clever, though, like the elevator keypad is the actual Independence date…
Daniel didn’t need to read anymore, as fascinating as the president’s journal was. He kicked himself for not trying simple dates before, but the code could have been anything. He could smell food coming from the small private kitchen just beside the dining room, but he couldn’t wait to see what was downstairs. He walked quickly down the thickly carpeted hallways and down the staircase. When he passed the War Room, he saw Dakota flipping through a large binder, her feet crossed Indian style in the chair she was sitting in, her face lit by the monitors and a small lamp that was attached to the console by a metal arm with hinges. She didn’t notice him and he didn’t stop there, but continued on to the elevator at the end of the hall. He looked at the keypad for just a moment before punching in the numbers:
7 – 04 – 1776
Daniel held his breath, but nothing happened. He had expected the doors to woosh open, but instead the keypad beeped at him and the number he had put in disappeared. He frowned in consternation but tried retyping the numbers. Still nothing happened and a flower of frustration bloomed in his heart. He sighed, then tried a different combination of numbers.
07 – 4 – 1776
Still, nothing; he was getting so angry he wanted to scream. It crossed his mind that perhaps the month and day were inverted, so he tried again.
4 – 07 – 1776
Still, the door remained closed. Daniel clenched his teeth and tried again.
04 – 7 – 1776
The numbers cleared and the door remained closed. Daniel punched the metal door of the elevator, it thumped dully in the stillness of the hallway. It made Daniel remember they were underground, probably surrounded by who knew how much concrete. He stalked back down the hall, resisting the urge to look at Dakota. He tried to calm himself down, but it seemed as if all his frustrations were now rising to the surface. He had been calm; he took care of getting himself to the place where other people would gather. He had ensured that he had all he needed to survive as people dealt with the apocalyptic deaths around the world. But it had been the end of his dreams, too; there would be no wife and family in the suburbs, no rewarding law career. In fact, he had wasted the last seven years of his life in college and law school. The only bright side was that he didn’t have to pay the student loans back anymore.
By the time he reached the second floor, he was so angry he couldn’t stand the thought of being around anyone, not even Lana. He locked himself in the Lincoln Bedroom and for the first time in his life seriously considered suicide. He heard a voice in his head, it was his own voice, but the thoughts seemed to come from outside of himself.
“You can’t help anyone, you can’t even help yourself,” the voice said. “Those girls would be better off without you. A few sleeping pills would get the job done, or you could eat the barrel of one of the 9 mm pistols. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about everything. It’s not your fault. No one would blame you for doing it. The girls don’t really trust you anyway. You might as well admit that you haven’t really done anything of any real use in your whole life…”
The internal tirade was interrupted by a knock on his door. He didn’t want to answer but knew he was being childish.
“Yeah,” he said harshly.
“Daniel, are you coming out to eat?” Lana asked. She sounded afraid, but then again she always sounded afraid, Daniel thought.
“No, I’m not hungry.”
“Oh,” she sounded hurt and now Daniel stung with guilt.
The voice returned, adding the fact that he only hurt the people around him and he should end it all now, but he ignored it.
“Give me a minute,” he said, the frustration he felt seeping out into his voice like honey from a cracked jar. He knew the frustration was dangerous at a time like this. Something deep inside told him to look at the bright side of things, but he immediately swatted that cheery thought down like a slow mosquito. He didn’t have to wallow in his misery, but neither did he have to pretend that everything was going to be okay.
He went to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He was hungry and Lana had cooked for them. The least he could do was eat with her. This was no time to be selfish. He dried his face and left his bedroom. Lana was halfway down the hall toward the dining room, speaking into the walkie-talkie. Daniel admired her figure for a moment, and as the thought rose in his mind that he shouldn’t gawk over women, he realized that the social norms and even morals were as dead as all the people in this city. He had always planned to marry, to be respectful of women and “do the right thing,” but how could he do that now. He wanted to be with Lana, was it wrong to sleep with her when there was no guarantee that he could ever marry her? His thoughts began to stick together and formed a morass in his mind that felt heavy. The only real thought that he could pull out of the mire with any real success was that he wanted to know what was down the elevator shaft. Was anyone still alive down there? He felt that the answers he was searching for were eluding him down there, that if he could just get the stupid doors to open, then everything would work out.
It was a childish thought, with absolutely no reason to back it up. Still, it took root in him and flourished amid the dense feelings of fear, disappointment, and confusion. He had to find a way to get that elevator working, he had to.
In the dining room there were three places set. Wine had been replaced with mineral water and the scent of grilled steak was in the air. Daniel loved steak, even though he found lighter, less fatty meat to be more versatile and even tastier. Steak appealed to him on a basic level, it was man food. It was also the kind of food he couldn’t afford to eat. He could, of course, splurge and buy a stringy cut of meat from the grocery store, burn it on his tiny charcoal grill, but it was always a tasteless, usually tough, hunk of meat. But a steak cooked right was a great meal, and he was excited to see what Lana had done with the choice meat she had discovered in the kitchen cooler.
“
Dakota is on her way up,” Lana said from the kitchen.
“Can I help?” Daniel asked.
“No, just have a seat and relax.”
As if, he thought to himself. There was no relaxation anymore, no satisfaction in life. That wasn’t exactly true, he thought to himself, he had enjoyed holding Lana through the night. He was looking forward to eating a good steak. Still, with the question of the elevator hanging over his head, it was incredibly difficult to not think and worry about it.
When Dakota arrived she sat quietly and touched the napkin and stemware. It was obvious she hadn’t had a cooked meal in several days, perhaps she had even thought that she never would again. Lana came in and placed plates of food in front of them, a salad with a variety of colors. They all sat and began to eat. When Daniel said something about the steaks, Lana said the meat needed to rest. He didn’t know what that meant and was too preoccupied to ask.
Lana asked what they had found out downstairs and Dakota chatted about the capabilities of the satellites. She had been able to find the one that was permanently looking at the Washington, D.C., area. Daniel could tell she was excited, and the girls could tell he was surly. He ate his salad quickly, not tasting much of it. He finished before the girls, and Lana quickly cleared his plate and returned with a large steak and a baked potato. It was simple meal really, meat and potatoes, the kind of thing that Daniel usually preferred. The steak was beautifully cooked. It was dark with crisscrossed grill marks and a thick layer of spices.
When Daniel raised his knife and began sawing into his meat, Lana spoke up.
“What’s bothering you, Daniel?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said.
“Have you even tasted your food tonight?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“Really? What kind of cheese was on that salad?”
“I don’t know, the normal kind.”
“Daniel,” she was frustrated now, her voice rising. “Please tell us what is bothering you. You just ate a Greek salad with goat’s cheese. Maybe I’m wrong, but I was betting on the fact that you’d never eaten goat cheese before.”
His stomach tightened at the words ‘goat cheese.’ He hadn’t ever eaten it before, and he honestly couldn’t say what it tasted like now. He set his knife and fork down and looked at Lana. There were tears in her eyes and he felt guilty again. She had prepared a special meal and he was treating it with disdain.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just a little frustrated tonight. The meal is delicious-”
“I’m not fishing for compliments,” Lana said. “But you’re scaring me. Please tell us what is bothering you so much.”
“It’s nothing, I just thought I had figured out the code to the elevator downstairs, but I didn’t and it’s got me on edge.”
“That’s all?” Lana said.
“Yes, I swear. Look, I didn’t mean to spoil everyone’s dinner. I’m sorry, just ignore me. I’ll figure it out, okay?”
“Why is it so important to you?” Lana asked.
“The president’s down there,” he said matter-of-factly. “Don’t you want to know if he’s alive or dead? Don’t you want to know what’s happened to the world?” His voice was rising, like a preacher warming to his message. “I know it’s stupid, but to me that elevator leads to answers. If nothing more, we can say we looked for answers everywhere in the White House and found none. I have to know what’s happened.”
“We may never know,” Lana said.
“I have to try. I can’t just pretend that life is normal while I’m stepping over the bodies of people who suddenly died. What were those spheres? Where did they come from? Why did so many people die and we didn’t? What do we do now? I need answers to those questions.”
Silence settled into the room like a dense fog. They looked at their food, which seemed suddenly unappetizing. Then, like lightning revealing the night in its bright, crisp instant of light, a thought came to Daniel.
“Oh,” he said out loud. “Of course, that would be too obvious.”
“What would be too obvious?” Lana asked.
“The president wrote that the code to the elevator was the real Independence Day. What day did we win the Revolutionary War?”
“That would be September 3rd, 1783. The Treaty of Paris,” Dakota said with a mouth full of steak. “This is delicious.”
“Oh!” Daniel shouted. “Dakota, you’re a genus.”
He ran out of the room and the girls followed. All the way down to the basement level of the White House. Daniel had to keep himself from sprinting. Lana hurried after him and Dakota came behind her, the plate of food in her hand. She was sampling the baked potato with bacon and chives, sour cream, butter and cheese.
At the elevator panel, Daniel typed in the date and waited once again, but nothing happened. The keypad beeped and then cleared the numbers, but the doors remained shut.
“I must have mistyped it,” Daniel said, turning to them. “What was that date again, Dakota?”
“September 3, 1783,” she said around a mouthful of food.
He pushed the numbers again, but nothing happened. He tried the numbers in different combinations, but nothing worked. He was about to punch the elevator doors again when Lana spoke up.
“Tell us what the president wrote in his journal,” she said.
Daniel sighed, “He said the code was the real Independence Day.”
“That would actually be January 14, 1784, when the Treaty of Paris was official approved by the Congress of the Confederation,” said Dakota, then she picked up the steak with her fingers and took a bite.
Daniel looked at her for a moment with utter disbelief. Then he turned and punched in the numbers:
1 – 14 – 1784
There was a ding, the same sound made by elevators in five star hotels around the world, and the doors slid silently open.
Chapter 9
They all three stepped inside the elevator. There were no buttons or lights to show what floor the elevator was on. It was essentially a stainless steel box. When the doors swooshed closed there was a brief pause, then the elevator dropped rapidly. Daniel felt his stomach leap up and his head seemed light as his body adjusted to the strange motion. It was impossible to tell how far down the elevator took them, but it seemed to be a long way. When the door opened, it was to a long, narrow corridor. The walls, ceiling, and floor were concrete. There were doors along the corridor, as if this hallway was directly under the basement floor that was now over their heads.
“This is creepy,” Lana said.
“It’s just a hallway, let’s see what’s down here,” Daniel said.
They took a few steps down the corridor and came to the first doorway. Daniel reached for the handle and opened the door. The room inside was large and filled with machinery. There was a deep hum that reverberated in the room.
“What is this place?” Dakota asked.
“It looks like a power plant,” Daniel said.
“Generators,” Lana said in a moment of inspiration.
“I’ll bet you’re right,” Daniel agreed. “This is probably how they generate electricity, heat and cool these rooms, probably even supply oxygen. There’s no telling how far underground we are.”
They walked through the room, examining the machines. There were labels on several of them. They read them out loud:
“This one is definitely a generator.”
“This one says, ‘Gas Pump.’”
“They must have tapped a natural gas vein to power this place.”
“There is no telling how long this stuff would power the White House,” Daniel said. “I’ll bet there are redundancy generators in here, too.”
“Let’s see what else is down here,” Lana suggested.
They moved out of the room they labeled the Power Plant and went to the next doorway. Inside the room was a giant cylinder that looked almost like the body of a large rocket. The room was circular and the floor was a metal gridwork that allowe
d them to see down into the pit. The cylinder dropped down out of sight, into the dim depths below them.
“What is this?” Lana asked.
“I think it’s a water storage tank,” said Dakota.
“Water? It looks like a bomb or something.”
“No,” Daniel added, “I think Dakota is right. It would make sense that if this were a shelter from nuclear holocaust, they would need water.”
“But this thing has got to be over two hundred feet tall, who needs that much water?” Lana asked.
“I’m not sure the question is how many people, but rather how long?” Daniel said. “Let’s keep moving.”
The next room was filled with medical supplies, the latest hospital technology, all covered in clear plastic. At the back of the room was a large area with metal caging all around rows and rows of pharmaceutical supplies. The cage was locked with a digital keypad similar to the elevator.
At the end of the hall was another doorway. They walked through it and were shocked by what lay beyond. Just past the doorway, a large staircase led down to a huge central corridor that was as wide as a shopping mall and extended the length of several football fields. There were plants growing under strange looking light panels at various intervals throughout the corridor, in intricately shaped planters that seemed to go down into the floor. There were large screen television monitors and sitting areas all across the polished cement floor. What almost looked like a food court was just below them, and there were dozens of rooms branching off the main chamber.
The New World Page 8
