each knew all along and still chose to go about their business. Who knew what to believe?
Ralph walked faster. As he crossed Sixteenth Street, he glanced down at his cargo and noticed that Jessica had written her phone number across the wrapper of the President’s sandwich, and the pace of change seemed to accelerate further still.
3
I THOUGHT I’D RAISE MY SPIRITS WITH A LITTLE CHAMPAGNE BRUNCH
W HEN R ALPH RETURNED TO the West Wing, the White House senior staff had already assembled in the Roosevelt Room. They were waiting to begin a meeting with the President, who had been behind schedule all morning because at the start of his day he lingered for fifteen minutes too long with a group of Eagle Scouts. The President, himself a former Eagle Scout, had a special fondness for all Boy Scouts. This was touching, but as a result of his dallying with the scouts, the President was late for a meet-and-greet with the national spelling bee champion, in turn late for a photo opportunity with the Stanley Cup champions of the National Hockey League, in turn late for a meeting with the prime minister of Luxembourg, then late for a meeting with a high-profile lobbying group of rock starsand actors who wanted the United States to buy the Amazon rain forest, late to meet the First Lady and a renowned upholsterer about changing the couches in their weekend home on the Chesapeake to which they were scheduled to leave later that afternoon, late for a reception with the ambassador of Tahiti, late to talk to a midwestern congressional delegation about relaxing the standards required to call a farm product “organic,” late for a haircut, late to have tea with the chairman of the Federal Reserve, late to call and wish the First Mother a happy birthday, and finally, now, late for a session with the senior staff about how to respond to the whole alien situation.
Ralph was out of breath when he entered the Roosevelt Room. “They know,” he panted. “Everybody knows. The aliens sent some kid a video. It’s all over the Internet.”
The press secretary, Martha Jones, gestured for Ralph to sit down. “We know,” she said. “We’re not sure everyone buys it, though. The person who forwarded it to me thought it was a hoax.”
The chief of staff, Joe Quimble, said, “Apparently not everybody thought it was a hoax. In one morning, it’s already the most downloaded video in the history of the Internet.”
“Well, it’s real,” said David Prince. “People have a way of sniffing out the truth in these things. Call it a collective intuition.” David was the deputy chief of staff, and the closest thing Ralph had to a friend in the West Wing.
“What’s in the video?” Ralph asked.
“It isn’t much,” Joe Quimble said. “It’s less than a minute long. Basically they say hello and that they come in peace.”
“The production quality isn’t very good,” added Martha Jones. “It’s just a crappy straight-to-camera shot. We should put them in touch with our media people.”
“Does the President know?”
“Yes,” Martha said. “He asked the Secretary of State and Secretary of Defense to join us for this meeting. They’re waiting next door. He wants to coordinate a tactical and political response—just as soon as he gets off the phone with his mother.”
Softly, Martha added, “Len Carlson is coming too.”
Joe Quimble said, “I hate that guy.”
L EN C ARLSON WAS THE President’s political consultant, and the mastermind behind his election. At the start of the campaign,the President—then a little-known senator—was polling last in a crowded field of Republicans. Carlson adroitly positioned the President as a moderate in the conservative-heavy Republican field, largely by emphasizing his openness to abortion for victims of rape and incest. This attracted attention and set him apart from the other candidates. Then, after the President shockingly won the primary, Carlson had him tack back to the right for the