Deception Point Page 0,46

political suicide."

"Until now."

"Exactly. As we discussed this morning, this discovery's timing will seem suspect to political cynics, and nobody's as cynical as my staff is at the moment. Therefore, when they hear this information for the first time, I want it to come from-"

"You haven't told your staff about the meteorite?"

"Only a few top advisers. Keeping this discovery a secret has been a top priority."

Rachel was stunned. No wonder he's facing a mutiny. "But this is not my usual area. A meteorite could hardly be considered an intelligence-related gist."

"Not in the traditional sense, but it certainly has all the elements of your usual work-complex data that needs to be distilled, substantial political ramifications-"

"I am not a meteorite specialist, sir. Shouldn't your staff be briefed by the administrator of NASA?"

"Are you kidding? Everyone here hates him. As far as my staff is concerned, Ekstrom is the snake-oil salesman who has lured me into bad deal after bad deal."

Rachel could see the point. "How about Corky Marlinson? The National Medal in Astrophysics? He's got far more credibility than I do."

"My staff is made up of politicians, Rachel, not scientists. You've met Dr. Marlinson. I think he's terrific, but if I let an astrophysicist loose on my team of left-brain, think-inside-the-box intellectuals, I'll end up with a herd of deer in the headlights. I need someone accessible. You're the one, Rachel. My staff knows your work, and considering your family name, you're about as unbiased a spokesperson as my staff could hope to hear from."

Rachel felt herself being pulled in by the President's affable style. "At least you admit my being the daughter of your opponent has something to do with your request."

The President gave a sheepish chuckle. "Of course it does. But, as you can imagine, my staff will be briefed one way or another, no matter what you decide. You are not the cake, Rachel, you are simply the icing. You are the individual most qualified to do this briefing, and you also happen to be a close relative of the man who wants to kick my staff out of the White House next term. You've got credibility on two accounts."

"You should be in sales."

"As a matter of fact, I am. As is your father. And to be honest, I'd like to close a deal for a change." The President removed his glasses and looked into Rachel's eyes. She felt a touch of her father's power in him. "I am asking you as a favor, Rachel, and also because I believe it is part of your job. So which is it? Yes or no? Will you brief my staff on this matter?"

Rachel felt trapped inside the tiny PSC trailer. Nothing like the hard sell. Even from three thousand miles away, Rachel could feel the strength of his will pressing through the video screen. She also knew this was a perfectly reasonable request, whether she liked it or not.

"I'd have conditions," Rachel said.

Herney arched his eyebrows. "Being?"

"I meet your staff in private. No reporters. This is a private briefing, not a public endorsement."

"You have my word. Your meeting is already slated for a very private location."

Rachel sighed. "All right then."

The President beamed. "Excellent."

Rachel checked her watch, surprised to see it was already a little past four o'clock. "Hold on," she said, puzzled, "if you're going live at eight P.M., we don't have time. Even in that vile contraption you sent me up here in, I couldn't get back to the White House for another couple of hours at the very fastest. I'd have to prepare my remarks and-"

The President shook his head. "I'm afraid I didn't make myself clear. You'll be doing the briefing from where you are via video conference."

"Oh." Rachel hesitated. "What time did you have in mind?"

"Actually," Herney said, grinning. "How about right now? Everyone is already assembled, and they're staring at a big blank television set. They're waiting for you."

Rachel's body tensed. "Sir, I'm totally unprepared. I can't possibly-"

"Just tell them the truth. How hard is that?"

"But-"

"Rachel," the President said, leaning toward the screen. "Remember, you compile and relay data for a living. It's what you do. Just talk about what's going on up there." He reached up to flick a switch on his video transmission gear, but paused. "And I think you'll be pleased to find I've set you up in a position of power."

Rachel didn't understand what he meant, but it was too late to ask. The President threw the switch.

The screen in front of Rachel

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