Veronica awoke early after only six hours of sleep and opened the black-out curtains in her room, looking out on the narrow English street below. The change of scenery and pace for the moment was welcomed. The last week and a half had been more than a blur in her mind and recounting the swirling events she smiled, pleasantly satisfied that she was in Oxford, England—and alive again—she thought, laughing to herself.
Stretching and enjoining a full yawn, she pulled the neck of her shirt to her nose, “Oh! That’s horrible. I have got to get out of these clothes,” she said out loud.
She had been in the same clothes for the past three days and nights and had traveled nearly 4,000 miles in them. She had never traveled so far and so light, only with what she was wearing and her purse. “Thank goodness I have that,” she thought taking out some lotion and a brush. She walked into the bathroom and was grateful to see a complementary toothbrush; which was something else she hadn’t done for three days. Pulling her hair into a ponytail, since it was the only thing she could do with it without a wash, she headed out the door to find a women’s clothing shop and some coffee.
Walking toward the lobby she passed a room that she thought looked like a library. She hesitated and poked her head inside since a library was not a common feature in most hotels and as it turned out her assumption was right—A library, odd—but nice too she thought to herself.
Just as she was about to leave she heard a voice from within the library, “There’s more than just books in here.”
Veronica whirled around to find Matt sitting with a book in the back of the library, looking considerably better than he had for several days, “Hey, I thought you’d be sleeping longer than all of us.”
Matt put down his book, placing a finger to hold his place, “I’ve not been up long, maybe an hour,” then looking down at how much he had read, “maybe more. It appears you have found somewhere to go?”
Veronica pulled at her blouse in a loathing gesture, “Yes, I have got to get out of these clothes.”
Matt raised his eyebrows while Veronica shook her head and rolled her eyes in playful disgust. Matt raised his good arm above his head and smelled himself, “Hmm...yeah, I suppose I should at least get out of Gus’s old shirt—come to think of it, it was dirty when I put it on.”
“That’s Gus’s shirt? I thought it was terrible ill-fitted but thought you were,” Veronica laughed, “keen on tight-fitting clothing.”
Matt gave Veronica a playful look that said, “very-funny.” “Yeah, he pulled it out of his dirty dry cleaning after the incident on the Ellipse and I grabbed a couple more since I figured it might be a while before I got back home.”
“Well–I don’t need an escort but come on, let’s go shopping.”
Matt opened the taxi door for Veronica and she slid over to the far side allowing Matt to get in through the same door.
“We are in a terrible need of a change of clothes,” said Matt taking charge. “Take us to the nearest quality men’s and women’s clothiers please.”
Pulling away from the curb in front of the hotel, Veronica decided the time had come for her talk with Matt about Petaluma, California. “I have a question for you about the exchange we had on my first day in Gus’s office.”
Matt turned to Veronica and very humbly said, “Oh Veronica, I’m so sorry about that. I was such an idiot back then.”
“Back then? It was a whole 10 months ago Matt.”
Matt shook his head as if to make it clearer, “I know, but what I really meant by back then was last week. I can’t explain but it’s as if–I don’t know...like I think differently lately, and feel different. I know I’m making little sense other than maybe I’ve got a bolt knocked loose or something.” He paused while Veronica sat looking at him, “Please forgive me,” and then after struggling to make his apology more meaningful and formal he added, “My Lady.”
Veronica smiled pleasantly at his extreme formality and title selection then nodded, “All is forgiven. It is really nothing now so long after the incident. I mostly wanted to know how you knew me.”
Matt sat quietly for several painful minutes then began, “I guessed you would not remember and I was a right fool to torment you with it.” He paused again and sighed as he prepared to come clean, “When we met, you had already had your fill of Harvest Festival wine I think. You were with two other women I did not know and they actually left you with me. We talked for only a few minutes and I could tell you were not well. I sat with you for an hour or so waiting for your friends to return; I assumed they were your friends, but perhaps not since they didn’t return. Anyway, I offered to give you a ride and you accepted.”
Embarrassed, Veronica shook her head, “Oh, I will never drink again, I swear. I remember none of it.” There was a long pause in the conversation, and then Veronica timidly asked, afraid of the answer, “Where did you take me?”
“Home, your home or I guess it was your aunt’s home. I swear that is where I took you. I felt sorry for you, I really did but…” Matt paused again.
“But what?” asked Veronica eager for details.
“You were so sick—pretty—but oh so sick. You threw-up in my car and…”
Veronica gasped in horror, “Oh Matt! I am so sorry. I think I’m going to crawl under the seat right here, how absolutely embarrassing.”
The cab driver trying to be polite let a small laugh escape his lips and then quickly apologized.
“I’m sure I will be laughing someday about this too but today I just want to,” Veronica was going to say “die” but that expression had taken on a new meaning for her, but since no other word was forthcoming she just said, “cry.”
“Veronica, you have nothing to be embarrassed about I assure you. It is I who is embarrassed.”
“You embarrassed, why? Did you vomit in my lap?” laughed Veronica.
“Worse. I kissed you.”
Silence settled on the cab neither knowing what to say next, if there was even anything be said at all. The taxi pulled up in front of a row of shops and stopped. Matt and Veronica got out and as the taxi pulled away, Veronica asked shaking her head in confusion, “So, why did you kiss me?”
Matt directed Veronica over to a bench outside the shops and had her sit, “First of all, I was a complete, arrogant bastard then, full of entitlement and conceit. Second,” Matt stopped, not wanting to make an even bigger fool of himself and reconsidered his next words. “Second doesn’t matter, what I did was wrong. I helped you out of my car and got you inside lying down, then got a towel and cleaned you up the best I could while maintaining your honor, which I swear to you. I stood there looking at you sleeping or probably passed out, and—I kissed your soft lips and left,” after a short pause he added, “I’m so sorry.”
Veronica sat pondering what Matt had just said, then after a few minutes continued, “Well, it was just a kiss, not rape.” Veronica pretended that she was past feeling and brushed it off outwardly as nothing. “Let’s go find something new to wear,” completely and intentionally derailing the awkward conversation, “We should probably pick up something for Gus while we’re at it.”
Returning to the hotel, Veronica stopped at the front desk, asked the bellman to deliver several shopping bags to Gus’s room and then rushed to her own room anxious to get out of her clothes and into a hot shower.
Veronica returned to the library an hour later thinking she would find Matt there but the room was empty and quiet. She browsed the bookshelves and pulled out a book on English history during the Elizabethan period and got lost in an oversized plush chair. She was wearing a new and slightly oversized sweat shirt with an Oxford University logo on the front. She smiled inwardly at the unmatched comfort of wearing a new sweat shirt, fresh out of the shower and an old book on history, her favorite subject. After several pages, her comfort overcame her and she dozed off into a dreamless, drooling sleep—her book in her lap.
Shortly afterwards, Matt came down the stairs fresh from the shower as well and saw Veronic
a. Matt stood looking at her sleeping peacefully and he of course remembered the same scene almost a year ago when he quite literally stole a kiss from her. The afternoon sun was shining through the two-century old glass onto her beautiful brown hair. Veronica usually wore her hair up while at the Senate but today, it was long and loose nearly to her waist in length. While admiring her beauty, Matt noticed some drool in the corner of her mouth and he smiled. She was the picture of perfection in his mind and looking at her this way was painful. Matt forced himself to take a seat across the room where he resumed reading the book he had started earlier that morning and every few minutes he would look over at Veronica and breathe in her presence, filling his lungs with living breath and pure pleasure.
“How did you ever know my size? And if I hadn’t known better I would have thought I picked it out personally,” said Gus, walking into the library, disturbing the peace of the room and waking Veronica.
Smiling and in a tired voice Veronica sat up, “Now what kind of an assistant would I be if I didn’t know your shirt and pant size as well as your style preference?”
Looking around the room, Veronica noticed Matt had found his way down and she wondered how long he had been there. She rolled her lips together wondering if she would have awakened if he had tried to kiss her again. Hearing Gus speaking, she shook the cobwebs from her mind and tried to pay attention.
“When we checked in last evening I reserved the entire floor so that we can be assured we are truly alone. The last of the guests in those rooms will be checking out today. My father is on his way here, says he has some news for us, but failed to say what it was specifically.”
Gus’s stomach growled loud enough for all to hear, “I am starving, have the both of you eaten anything at all?”
“We had only some coffee and something that looked like a doughnut or a bagel but tasted like neither,” said Matt.
Gus’s father met them in the restaurant next to the hotel and told them that Professor Winston had called him that morning wondering if they could meet and asked where they all were staying. On any other day he would have volunteered the information but today he thought better of it.
Gus assured him he had done rightly and added, “Professor Winston may very well be with us, but we can’t risk trusting anyone too soon.”
Gus’s father nodded his head in agreement, “Unfortunately I agree and figured I would rather have him be offended than to risk your safety.”
Veronica gasped. As they all turned to look at her they could see she was responding to something on the Transnet display in the restaurant. They all turned their attention to the program that was being aired and listened.
“As we approach mid-July, this corn field behind me should be over five feet tall. While some stalks are reaching that height, most in this field are less than four. What’s worse—most stalks show signs of poor nutrition although this farmer in Kent insists he has fertilized according to accepted standards typical throughout the U.K. Experts are concerned since this farmer’s experience is typical across the country as well as on the continent. If things do not improve or if farmers cannot resolve the slow growth problem, Europe could be facing a greatly reduced maize crop this year, resulting in inflated prices.”
Looking at the images on the Transnet, they could see the corn leaves looked just like the images Professor Winston showed them yesterday.
“It has begun then—with no time to prepare and no time to even guess what to do,” said Gus. He looked around the busy restaurant at the businessmen, families and friends going about their day completely ignorant of the calamity that was about to rapidly descend upon their world.
“In my mind I had the chronology of events starting with the nullification of gunpowder and then plant life, but it appears–and it makes sense–that plant life would be most volatile to ozone changes,” said Matt.
“But Matt,” said Veronica, “maybe gunpowder has already been affected?”
Out of habit, Matt felt for his sidearm that was not there and sighed, frustrated. They all looked at one another then Gus took his phone out of his pocket, replaced the battery and handed it to his father, “Call Professor Winston and see if we can’t put some order to these events.”
Gus’s father began dialing but stopped when he saw the professor walking in the door of the restaurant. He handed the phone back to Gus and pointed.
Approaching their table, Professor Winston greeted everyone using their proper titles and coming to Veronica he pleasantly smiled and said, “My Lady.” He then turned to Gus, “I’m very sorry for the intrusion but it is very urgent that we speak; not here and not at the University.”
“We can go back to the hotel, I reserved the entire floor and I believe most of the lingering guests should now be checking out.”
The professor nodded and they made their way back to Gus’s room which was a suite he reserved for the soul purpose as having it double as a meeting room. Before going up to their floor Gus requested a bellmen accompany them and had him unlock and open every door on the floor and leave them propped open. Once satisfied that the floor was harbinger-free, Gus joined the group in his suite.
“Very early this morning at half past four, I got a call from Buckingham Palace. The dispatcher asked me to hold and the next thing I knew, I was talking to the bloody King himself.”
In 2040, the House of Windsor was still firmly in control of the United Kingdom. Parliament was still officially functioning but progressively over the past 20 years their power and influence was on the wane and more and more decisions were resting directly on the Prime Minister and the King, the Prime Minister acting more as an advisor. England had gone through such shifts in power several times before over the centuries and like the high levels of political apathy in the United States, the English public couldn’t be bothered with the details. Parliament, like both houses of Congress in the U.S. was overflowing with self-serving opportunists and the Crown, in the best interest of the Kingdom had been slowly resuming control. The United Kingdom was fortunate to have such a system, where a sovereign oversaw the entire government and could influence and effect change when and where needed.
“He was very aware of your arrival and our meeting yesterday but had called to discuss the Minimum, specifically the crop effect that was made public today.”
Gus nodded, “Yes we caught the last part of it while in the restaurant. So, the King referred to it as The Minimum?”
“Indeed he did, but that shouldn’t cause any alarm. The King has always had access to Oxford research projects and I’m certain his advisors have brought him up to speed.”
Confused, Gus responded, “I believe I heard you say yesterday that you had not alerted the Crown to your research?”
“Not overtly is what I should have said. They were aware of the research of course but what I had not shared was my professional opinion and the–obviously now—certainty of certain future events. The King asked specifically why you were in Oxford and why he had not received any official communication from your President.”
“How did the King know we were on his island?” said Matt annoyed.
Gus interjected before his father or the professor could respond, “The U.K. is a nation under CCTV—closed captioned television. All major intersections, public walkways and buildings are under continual surveillance. Certainly our booking on a flight to the U.K. alerted the Crown since we are U.S. dignitaries and it was easy from there to watch us travel here.”
“Oh,” said Matt, somewhat deflated and catching a simile from Veronica.
Gus resumed, “Sadly, our current President is,” he paused and apologized to Matt and Veronica in advance of what he was about to say, “A lame duck and the Vice President an opportunist. I hardly think he has poked his head out of Camp David since taking office to say nothing of being aware he has a country to run. I am certain this crisis, like a great many other things, will catch him totally by surprise, a day late and many trillion dollars short. W
hat did you tell him—the King?”
“The only thing I could, the truth. I’m very sorry. I said that you had been following events in your country and came to see me in an effort to get unsanctioned information. I don’t think he was pleased with me.”
“Why, what did he say?” asked Gus.
“He declared my work, all information in my lab and chambers and even what I knew but had not recorded anywhere as property of the Crown, and that I was forbidden to share it with anyone without his approval. After all, it is the King’s University.”
Gus thought a minute, “So, your visit here to see us is what, a trap? Certainly they know you are with us.”
“No, it is no trap—per se. They gave me permission to share freely with you and your friends on certain conditions.”
“And those conditions are what?” asked Matt.
“That you not withhold any information you have, and” the professor paused and looked at everyone in the room before continuing, “you are not allowed to leave the country—I’m very sorry.”
Matt’s fuse was lit, “Excuse me Professor?” He jumped up from his chair and approached the professor in earnest. Greatly alarmed, Professor Winston tried to quickly get out of his chair and he stood up just as Matt reached him. Matt shoved him back down so hard that his chair flipped over backwards, landing the professor on his back.
He laid there looking up at Matt trying to keep his voice from trembling, “This has nothing to do with me I assure you. Besides, you were not ordered here from Washington, you came on your own accord.”
“Yes, on our own accord–to an allied country, I didn’t think we had come to bloody red China.”
Gus stood up and placed his hand on Matt’s back with the desired effect of putting out his fuse, “Matt, we probably shouldn’t destroy the one person who could affect our release—hmm? We also must remember the world is a much different place than it was several weeks ago. From here on out I suspect we will see all the countries of the world acting very differently.”
Matt stood looking at the professor for several moments longer to ensure the threat was well absorbed, and then returned to his seat. No one spoke and the feeling in the room was now very tense. Gus knew he had to repair the relationship somehow and regain both the professor’s trust as well as the King’s. He walked over to the professor who was getting up and helped him get his chair upright.
“In light of the past week’s events, I’m sure you can see why I have chosen Senator Hector as my traveling companion. He only did what the rest of us were thinking. There was never a U.S. Senator more loyal to truth and right than Senator Hector. You too may well benefit with him on your team in the future.”
Matthew nodded at Gus thanking him for his support as he was still cooling down waiting for the adrenaline to abate in his blood stream.
There was no use in arguing the details of their loose imprisonment. Manipulating the electronic records was an easy feat for governments. Gus was certain that the Crown already had him, Veronica and Matt booked on a returning flight to Washington and all communications via cell phone would be blocked. Cell phones in 2040 were capable of identifying the user so no matter which phone was used, any call outside the country would be blocked. All his friends and associates would know is that Gus and his companions had returned to Washington and were now missing; effectively making it a United States problem.
Many electronic inventions that were designed to increase communication and personal security in the past 40 years were now manipulated by governments the world over to control their population. Positive identification on cell phones was sold to the public as a safety measure and in the United States; Homeland Security mandated the measure to prevent terrorist communications. The effect was that the Feds—and all world governments–now had the ability to identify all communicators, their communications and track their whereabouts. There was a bill on the Senate floor at that very moment that would make cell phone ownership and use mandatory for all citizens over the age of eight. A standard issue cell phone would be available to all free of cost, but citizens would still be allowed to purchase higher grade phones at their option. England had already passed such a law two years ago, as had many other governments.
The massive, super computers owned by world governments in 2040 recorded every conversation, and logged every destination of their citizens, which was pushed upon them as a means to protect them. Terrorist activity sadly was only abated for a small time after the restrictions were put in place until they learned how to work around technological restrictions. Consequently, terrorist organizations were much less calculated and accurate in their attacks and the number of attacks just increased, which is why Russia took the actions they did in 2029.
Gus’s clear headedness and wisdom prevailed, “We have every intention of cooperating with the English Crown in this matter. As far as I see it, this is a global problem that will touch all nations equally regardless of our distain for one another. I suggest that since we in this room are at the fore of this crisis we set a precedent of working together.”
Matt was not looking very happy after Gus’s last comment but trusting in his wisdom, he sat back in his chair further and listened.
“Professor, I have not been completely honest with you but after I tell you what I have to say, I think you will understand why. Yesterday, I was not sure which side of the fence you were on and frankly, I couldn’t trust this information with just anyone; besides, it all sounds a little self-promoting but nonetheless important for you to understand.”
Gus took his seat again and shared his and Veronica’s secret, “Just over a week ago, I was nearly assassinated in my office in Washington.”
“Bloody hell!” said the professor with surprise and compassion.
“Sadly, my dear assistant here,” he said pointing to Veronica, “was shot and killed in the incident.”
The professor looked at Gus as if he were mad, “Excuse me—your assistant, who is–here?”
“Yes, you heard correctly. She was shot twice and while I was lamenting her death, I willed her to live–and she lived as you can plainly see. We didn’t understand it at first but we’ve started to put together the pieces in the past week. I’m sure it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the Minimum and given the right circumstances any in this room could have done the same I believe.”
Professor Winston sat without speaking for several minutes and seeing that he was deep in thought trying to work out some kind of logic, everyone sat quietly and waited for him to respond. After several awkward minutes he asked, “Has anyone noticed anything else—odd?”
“I’ve grown several shirt sizes in the past week,” Matt volunteered, laughing.
The professor turned to him, “What was that?”
Matt feeling a little embarrassed responded, “Oh, nothing. I just purchased some clothing today and the size that fit was larger than what I wear in the U.S., but it’s because of the sizing differences in the U.K.”
The professor looked at Matt for a moment considering what he had just said and then responded, “No, that is not true. U.K. and U.S. sizes are the same except for shoes and hats. On the continent the clothing sizes would be very different than you see here, but a size 17 in the U.S. is a size 17 here.”
“Well how can that be? I was comfortable in a 16 ½ last week, yet today I purchased an 18 inch neck shirt. You would think I would notice such a thing.”
In a playful demeanor, Veronica responded, “Well big boy!”
The professor turned to the rest of the room, “Has anyone else noticed anything out of the ordinary?”
Everyone slowly began to shake their heads as they tried to remember the last two weeks. Then Gus responded slowly, “Veronica has been much more direct in her temperament and, I would say—for lack of better words—noble and brave, certainly much more so than when I hired her. Please don’t miss understand me Veronica, it is not a complaint by any means, only an observatio
n.”
The professor looked at Vicar Guiscard, “And you?”
Gus’s father laughed, “Not this old man, unless you mean not having to get up in the night to pee.”
Everyone laughed along with Vicar Guiscard’s light-hearted and somewhat irreverent demeanor.
“That is what I mean,” The professor got up from his chair and stood as if he were giving a lecture. “We have all experienced changes in our lives over the past little while. Some dramatic and others, not so dramatic,” he said smiling at his longtime friend, Vicar Guiscard. “The point is the plants and black powder will not be the only things affected by the Minimum. I’m not going to pretend that I understand it by any means, because I certainly do not.”
Matt raised his hand to interrupt, “Professor, you mentioned we all have been affected. We’ve shown you ours now it’s your turn. That’s how it works in the States,” he laughed slightly at his own joke but no one else did.
“Nothing for me personally–at least not that I’ve noticed, but I have a colleague at the university who has been studying learning behavior in rats. He has had two particular rats for quite some time, long enough to name them and I must say to grow attached to them, which is never good for a scientist. Over the past few weeks, one rat seemed to be progressing faster than the other with simple tasks. The other rat appeared to be getting more aggressive. Well, today my colleague entered his lab to find the aggressive rat had killed the other and had started to devour it. My colleague was perplexed and of course I offered no explanation at the time but in light of what we have been discussing here today—it’s all too coincidental. This morning I believed the rats were just an anomaly but to have four anomalies in one room—it’s no coincidence. It is very unscientific to sum it all up as the effect of the Minimum but what else could have such broad reach and all at the same time interval? If it is the Minimum, one thing is for certain, we are not all affected equally or in the same way–and some not at all, apparently.”
“But does that really make any scientific sense professor?” asked Gus, “I mean, the sun shines on us all rather equally does it not?”
“Yes it does, but consider our individual differences when it comes to food. One man can eat peanuts every day and yet another will die if he even touches it once in his life. We certainly were not created equal. That lie was invented by the Americans.” The professor stopped, forgetting the company he had in the room, “I am so sorry, I do not mean to offend.”
“Don’t sweat it Professor, I’m rather inclined to agree with you after what we have seen the past week,” said Matt.
Gus got up and walked over to the kitchenette and began to prepare some tea. Veronica got up to help him. Placing the pot on the hotplate he turned to address the professor. His expression was grave and his father, being the first to notice it asked, “What is it son?”
“The rats–one enjoys improved mental ability, the other increased aggression and arguably, a down-right evil disposition. This is without a doubt what we saw in Abdul. Since we cannot predict how the Minimum will affect humans—or any other plant or animal—how do you protect the world when you don’t know who the enemy is until it is too late—like the poor rat.”
“Or like poor Matt?” said Veronica.
Gus sighed, “Indeed.”
Matt, wanting to change the subject asked the professor, “So—what about our apparent imprisonment and when is our appointment with the King?”
The professor was confused, not remembering mentioning their appointment yet, “did I mention that you had an appointment?”
“No you did not but I can’t imagine we would be held here and not even asked a few questions,” said Matt.
Coming clean, the professor cleared his throat, “Right—well, a car will be here for you tomorrow late morning to take you into London. You needn’t worry. I assure you, you will be treated with the greatest of honor.”
“Of that I have no doubt professor; after all, I am English,” said Gus.
Gus’s father countered, “Were English.”
Everyone in the room looked at both Gus and his father and sensing some tension decided to not comment. Veronica and Gus brought the tea over to the group just as there was a knock at the door. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at each other for a moment. Since it was Gus’s room, all eyes eventually turned to him as if he had just drawn the shortest straw.
Matt followed Gus to the door unplugging a lamp and tearing off the shade so he could use it as a club. He stood behind the door and then motioned for Gus to open it. Gus took a deep breath, turned the lever and pulled open the door a crack, thinking that if it was an enemy, they would then force the door open. The door did not move and no one forced their way into the room. Feeling a little more comfortable, Gus pulled the door open just wide enough to see who was there, all the while Matt was ready to break the lamp over someone’s head.
Veronica walked to where she could see Matt more clearly and waited in anticipation along with everyone else in the room; Veronica considered what she was actually doing and how she was hoping that some thug would break into the room so that she could watch Matt swing into action. Now that she thought about it, she had noticed Matt’s build much larger than when they left Washington and she couldn’t deny that it was very impressive.
“Senator Guiscard?” came an official-sounding voice from in the hallway, “His Majesty’s Emissary sir. May we have a word?”
Gus opened the door all the way, revealing Matt standing with the lamp and the two men outside the door looked at him in alarm. Matt quickly threw the lamp down and in his embarrassment extended his hand, “Senator Matthew Hector.” He found their state of alarm humorous and he began to laugh slightly, “At your service.” Closing the door, Matt noticed two armed guards in the hall standing at attention effectively stopping anyone from coming in or going out.
The two men came into the room and Gus introduced everyone as they were invited to sit, which they did, still not speaking a word.
“And how can we be of service to you?” said Gus.
England had always been the land of tradition but the King was especially known as a traditionalist and he loved the pomp and pageantry of royal life. All the royal guards and military dress uniforms were patterned after 19th century styling. Both men were dressed in dark navy blue trousers with a red stripe down each leg, pressed and very crisp. They also wore red jackets with elegant white embroidering and gold buttons. Their appearance was very impressive and before they even spoke a word, they demanded respect and attention.
“Have you been in touch with your office or your government today Senator Guiscard?” said the more senior looking of the two emissaries.
“I have not and given that we are prisoners in your country I didn’t think any calls out of the country would be allowed so I have not ventured.”
“We bring troubling news I’m afraid. Our ambassador has just informed His Majesty that our embassy in the United States has just been bombed. It is too soon for any kind of fatality count but the ambassador himself was away from the embassy and is unharmed. We can tell from your reactions that you were completely unaware of these developments.”
“Indeed!” said Gus taking a seat. “What more do you know, has anyone taken responsibility?”
“We do not have many details but it appears the United States had taken responsibility.”
Matt jumped to his feet but Gus put out his arm to stop him from doing anything stupid and motioned him to sit, “Gentlemen, while I have only been away from my country for a couple days, I can hardly think things have deteriorated to this. I have to insist that the U.S. Government had nothing to do with this.”
“His Majesty is inclined to agree with you of course since the attack is not only without provocation but also precedent or sanity. However, you must understand the delicacy of the situation, with war on the horizon with the Middle East and lack of U.S. support to this point. His majesty has invited you to
the Palace.”
Matt, in pure American-brash responded first, “Invited to the palace—is that British-proper for incarceration in the tower?”
“Certainly not Senator, you shall be welcomed as honored guests of State as you should always be in the United Kingdom. Right now, you are the United States as far as the Crown is concerned since all communication has broken down.”
“Broken down, how do you mean?” asked Gus.
“All official communication channels are either offline or unresponsive with the United States at the moment. The communication we received from our ambassador was on his personal phone. We learned about the United States taking responsibility via the Transnet, so of course it is suspect. You needn’t worry about your treatment here in the U.K. no matter the events; His Majesty’s favor shall always be extended to the States.”
Matt had always taken the British for being pompous and too ignorantly steeped in tradition to be taken very seriously, but watching the two representatives of the great British Empire handle the current crisis with such virtue and dignity impressed him on a deep level. He sat observing them, their body language and their great respect for the American’s in the room who could be–as far as they knew with their limited information—their enemies. Such true valor and moral integrity he had never seen and he was surprised that he longed to be a part of it.
“Of course we will meet with whomever you wish and do all we can to help get to the bottom of what is going on, on all fronts,” said Gus.
The two gentlemen got up and respectfully acknowledged everyone in the room nodding to each, “Very well Senators, Professor, Reverend Guiscard, My Lady. His Majesty will expect you all at half past seven tomorrow evening for dinner.”
They exited the room without saying anything more and having delivered their message successfully they left the building. However the two guards outside the door remained behind for the protection of the Crowns foreign guests. Veronica watched the men leave from the window and noticed there were also armed guards in front of the building. There was a feeling of security with the armed guards present and she took a relaxed sigh for the first time in days. Turning around, the weight of what just transpired began to settle in her mind. Suddenly, she thought about what dinner at Buckingham Palace would be like and then in panic exclaimed, “I don’t have anything to wear!”
Solar Minimum Page 8
