Armageddon - By James Patterson Page 0,22
affix their signatures to a freshly inked document.
Because I was in Philadelphia, in Independence Hall, standing with the thirty-nine founding fathers who had originally signed the United States Constitution.
Chapter 30
I WISHED I had brought along my kite.
Benjamin Franklin, his eyes twinkling, strolled over to greet me.
I have to admit: I’m a total Franklin fan-boy because, like me, he had interests all over the map. The guy—now best known for having his bald-headed picture on the hundred-dollar bill—was a famous author, printer, political theorist, postmaster, diplomat, statesman, scientist, and inventor (he came up with bifocals, the lightning rod, the odometer, and, of course, the Franklin stove). He also formed the first public lending library in America and the first fire department in Pennsylvania.
Then again, Benjamin Franklin was also the man who nominated the turkey to be America’s national symbol (instead of the bald eagle), so not all of his ideas were absolutely brilliant. But, hey, the guy was always thinking.
“Ah, welcome to 1787, Daniel,” he said, extending his hand. “I always imagined time travel to be possible. As I’ve always said, one today is worth two tomorrows.”
“That’s why I’m here.” I gestured toward the great men signing the document that every President of the United States takes an oath to preserve, protect, and defend. “This country’s tomorrows aren’t looking very bright, sir.”
Franklin arched an eyebrow, wrinkling his high forehead. “Well, Daniel, our new Constitution only gives people the right to pursue happiness. You have to catch it all by yourself.”
“It’s the president. He’s made some kind of deal with alien invaders.”
“Alien invaders? Is it the French? The British, back for more?”
“No, sir. This alien is an extraterrestrial.”
“Ah! A visitor from the heavens above?”
“I don’t think this skeevy creep came from heaven, sir.”
“ ‘Skeevy’?”
“Yeah. It’s like a mix of sketchy and sleazy.”
“Ah, yes. From the Italian schifo, for disgust.”
“I guess. Anyway, this invader came from some other planet in some other solar system. Which one, I’m not sure. The List, my computer catalog of all the alien outlaws currently slinking around Earth, is very sketchy on this one’s background.”
Franklin pushed his bifocals up the bridge of his nose. “And this future President of the United States, he has allied himself with this evil ambassador?”
“Yes, sir. It’s like you always said: ‘He that lies down with dogs, shall rise up with fleas.’ The president is so totally flea-bitten he’s telling the whole country to surrender, to become this alien’s slaves!”
Franklin shook his head and tsked. “Slavery has always been a blight upon our country.”
“But what should I do?”
“Simple. Educate the president. Offer him and all those who may agree with his decree a bit of advice: Those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.”
Now the great George Washington strode over to join us. “Remember, Daniel: Truth will ultimately prevail where there is pains taken to bring it to light.”
“What do you suggest I do, General Washington?”
“Associate with people of good quality, for it is better to be alone than in bad company.”
I nodded.
To save America, I needed to flee D.C. I needed to stick with people like Agent Judge and his FBI team. Joe, Willy, Emma, and Dana.
And, of course, Mel.
They didn’t come much higher quality than her.
Chapter 31
AROUND MIDNIGHT I was at the wheel of the ATV, driving us back to Agent Judge’s horse ranch. Agent Williams and Mel’s dad were grabbing some much-needed shut-eye in the back of the truck. Mel was up front with me, trying her best to stay awake and keep me company as we rolled through the George Washington National Forest on the Appalachian border between Virginia and West Virginia.
Welcome to a typical day in my life: one minute you’re chatting with George Washington, the next you’re driving a high-tech Alien Tracking Vehicle through a forest named after him.
I had taken over steering-wheel duties from Agent Williams because, even though I’m not sixteen, I’m quite skilled at piloting all sorts of vehicles, many of which can travel faster than the speed of light. If necessary, I could also instantaneously generate an official, government-issued, hologram-stamped driver’s license for whatever state an overzealous trooper might happen to pull us over in. Also, FYI, Alpar Nokians make excellent long-haul drivers because we need very little sleep. Especially after we chug a couple of Red Bulls.
“You okay, Daniel?” Mel asked through a mouth-stretching yawn.
“I’m fine. Get some sleep.”
“No thanks. I’d rather stay up and keep you company.”
“We still have another four