Greg Bear - Mariposa

"Tell us what's happening in Texas," Larsen said.

"They're gathering in Lion City," Kunsler said, "getting ready to throw one big party-all the would-be rulers of the world. The financiers, the politicians, the scientists and engineers… state's rights fanatics and amoral opportunists and every shade in between. Protected by Price's most loyal soldiers, as well as cadres of mercenaries from Haiti. They're practically daring us to drop a nuke on them."

The president crossed her arms over her knees for support, to relieve the pain in her stiffening back. "I refuse to be the first president to nuke Texas. I still have one or two friends down there. Options?"

Kunsler and Haze seemed to share something unknown to the others in the room. "Madam President," Kunsler said, "the Bureau has been working with loyal elements in the intelligence community and the military to keep track of the situation both in Texas and Geneva-a clandestine surveillance program centered on MSARC. We began contingency planning three years ago, when the loan documents were signed-by you-in secret."

"Congress and I had no choice," Larsen said. "We were heading over a deficit cliff."

"A general at Bolling Air Force base has offered a possible solution," the chief of staff said, "ready to deploy-on your express command, and upon a presidential finding of gross civilian insurrection. These officers are his representatives."

"What is this solution?"

The colonel stepped forward. "Generally speaking, less than lethal, but terribly inconvenient for any high-tech operation-and very clever."

"I really hate clever," the president murmured.

"Given the terrain and the technological savvy of Talos-and their fanatic devotion to surveillance and security-our device can incapacitate a high percentage of their personnel. And destroy virtually all electronic capability within the affected area."

"You'd shut down their computers," Kunsler said.

"Damned near everything that runs on chips and wires," the colonel said, and handed the chief of staff another zip page, which he passed to the president.

From her chair beside the bed, Rebecca caught a glimpse of what looked like flaming donuts.

"Tesla bombs," the president murmured. "Jerichos. Brights. Where do they get these names?"

"Technically known as TEMPs, Tactical Electromagnetic Pulse," the colonel said.

The president nodded when she was finished. The colonel retrieved the zip pages and wiped them by breaking their corners.

"To complete our mission," Kunsler said, "I'm prepared to offer volunteers from the Bureau's Hostage Rescue Team to enter Talos and destroy their capacity to cause us more harm. Also, we have plans to secure all necessary evidence, in case this should ever become a matter of public controversy."

The colonel said, "On your express order the Air Force will authorize transfer-"

"I so command," the president said. "Colonel, if our good general needs a signed paper, hand me a pen. Screw the rest of the protocol. We're all way outside the law here. On my head be it-I'll be dead in a few hours anyway."

The chief of staff summed it up. "Certain loyal officers in the Pentagon are arranging for the loan of a hardened and stealthy executive transport aircraft. Secret Service and Air Force will transfer two Brights from Air Force One to supplement our aircraft's current capabilities. Looks as if we have a hundred or so military and agency volunteers, happy to beg, borrow, or steal the necessary equipment and fly or drive it to Texas. Up against ten thousand of Price's best troops and security-his own private army."

"Nothing can save me," Larsen said. "But a few of you, working together, can save this country. How many in this room are ready to step up and put an end to this travesty?"

Kunsler counted around the bedroom. "You can't go, sir," she said to the chief of staff. "Nor you, Ms. Ripper. The president needs you, and very likely we're all going to get killed.

"Nor you, I regret to say, Madam President."

Everyone had raised their hands.

"Hell, I wanted to fly a fighter one last time," Larsen said. "Rebecca Rose. We've been here before, you and me, haven't we?"

"Yes ma'am."

"As much as possible, this needs to be a civilian operation-law enforcement, not military invasion."

"Pretty fine distinction," the colonel said.

The president ignored him.

"You and director Kunsler share operational command. Rebecca, you lead HRT into Talos and rescue our agents. And along the way, please convey my message to Axel Price. On occasion, the tree of freedom needs to be watered by the blood of arrogant bastards. Nobody can fucking own America."

She fell back onto the pillows and was beset by another fit of coughing. Flecks of pink appeared on Ripper's kerchief as she held it to the president's lips.

The White House physician pushed through and ordered them out of the room. "She's a human being, not a robot! She needs some rest. Give her peace, for God's sake."

Rebecca caught Larsen's eye just before leaving. The president gave her a trembling thumbs up, then was hidden from view by nurses and the closing door.

The chief of staff escorted them back into the hall. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Raphkind's probably going to be sworn in as president tomorrow morning. He hasn't been briefed. Knowing him, he wouldn't agree to any of this anyway. He might even strike a deal with Price. If this team can't get itself organized and do the job, our nation is worse than dead. Alicia, Daniel-thanks. Rebecca, I know you by reputation-an amazing reputation, I must say. You've all put up with a trainload of grief on behalf of this country. Only true patriots…" He stopped for a moment, genuinely choked up, perhaps for the first time in his political career. In embarrassment, he lightly slapped his own face. "Excuse me. This is going to be a hard night."

Kunsler gripped Rebecca's arm as Haze led them to staff cars. "If I'd had a choice, I would have brought you in six months ago," she said under her breath. "You won't believe who's waiting for us down there. Like old times."

"Damn," Rebecca said. The whole world seemed huge-massive clouds in an impossibly vivid sky the size of six or seven ordinary lifetimes.

"We're going to be in Texas in less than four hours. Any messages I can send?"

"Not a one," Rebecca said, ducking her head as she sat in the limo.

"The Bureau's operation in Lion City… we're in this with Spider/Argus, and there are two parts," Kunsler said, sliding in beside her. "One of the parts, Nabokov, delivered the information we needed, but the agent cannot withdraw. What-you know this already?" Kunsler looked prepared to be pissed off.

"Vladimir Nabokov loved butterflies," Rebecca said, shielding her eyes against the glare of headlights through the tinted windows.

"Right," Kunsler said, pulling back her irritation. "The other part is strictly hail Mary, and it's not going well. Let's join our HRT boys. I told them about Mecca, and they all want to meet you."

"Great," Rebecca said.

"I'll fill you in on the plane."

Over Arkansas

High in the air, leaning back in the white leather seat with eyes closed, keeping it together-

Not having a family or a kid is just another word for nothing left to lose. And now I'm losing that. Flying high, surrounded by brave men and woman, duty bound-honor bound… Chosen by the president of the United States. Just like Mecca. Don't want to belong, don't need to belong. Gave it all up ages ago, just didn't know it.

"Rebecca."

She opened her eyes. Kunsler sat in the seat next to her.

"One hour," she said. "We've had a blip from William Griffin."

"He's still alive?"

"As of a few hours ago."