Consistent with section 6001(a) of the Resource Conservation and Recovery Act (RCRA) (the “Act”) as amended, 42 U.S.C. 6961(a), notification is hereby given that under Presidential Determination No. 108-36 I exercise the authority to grant certain exemptions from Federal, State, interstate, or local hazardous or solid waste laws that might require disclosure of classified information, under section 6001(a) of the Act. Such exemption is granted to the United States Air Force’s operating locations near Groom Lake Nevada, Colorado Springs Colorado, Kings Peak Utah, Bismarck North Dakota, and Fairbanks Alaska.
—Text of a letter from President Pearl to the Speaker of the House of Representatives and the President of the Senate
WASHINGTON, D.C.
Nick and Elizabeth had eaten dinner together once a month since she left the White House, and she frequently picked restaurants like The Right Choice—independent, quaint, and meatless. Nick did not mind, since he could usually find something he liked. She was waiting in front of the restaurant, greeting him with a kiss; enthusiastic, just short of passionate. It was a good start. Elizabeth had been cool to him when he had been science advisor to President McIntyre and she the president’s Chief of Staff. Elizabeth had stood by President McIntyre after his controversial decision to use nuclear-tipped cruise missiles to try and reverse the time quilting. Instead, he took the blame for acting prematurely and freezing the dinosaurs in the present and millions of Americans, and others around the world, somewhere else in time. When he ran for reelection the voters punished him for being unable to fix the unfixable. Only after McIntyre’s administration
ended, and she became a defense lobbyist, did Nick come to see Elizabeth’s softer side.
Elizabeth had come straight from her office at Grayson, Weinert and Goldfarb, wearing the feminine version of a pinstriped suit, complete with a tie that hung loosely from her neck. Nick was dressed more casually in slacks, cotton shirt, and light jacket. The evening chill was setting in and they hurried inside, waiting briefly before being ushered to a table. They made small talk while they ordered, then sipped wine and gossiped about political insiders. The new, relaxed Elizabeth Hawthorne was a beautiful, mature professional woman. She still wore her hair long, like a younger woman, but it did not look out of place on Elizabeth. Her hair was unnaturally dark, but then few women her age who moved in the Washington power circles could even remember their natural hair color. Her figure still turned heads and, except for a few smile wrinkles, her skin was as smooth and unblemished as a preteen’s.
Elizabeth ordered an artichoke salad and a cheese and pasta dish, Nick a garden salad and eggplant parmigiana. While they waited, Nick asked Elizabeth the last question he had shouted at Clark.
“Elizabeth, what is an Aurora?”
“How did we jump from the Speaker of the House’s pregnant mistress to high-tech aircraft?”
“It’s just something that came up recently. You say it’s an airplane?”
“Actually it’s half airplane, half spacecraft. The rumors are that it can reach escape velocity and travel into and out of orbit using a dual propulsion system. The engines don’t burn fuel, they detonate it. That’s what gives it the speed and lifting power it needs to reach orbit.”
“It sounds like the space plane.”
“Much more powerful and its primary function is military—first strike capability, spy missions, stealth operation. The funny thing is that every military in the world knows we have it but we still keep our own people in the dark.”
The meal came with doughy bread sticks and Nick was satisfied before he was half done.
“Elizabeth, how much do you know about other black bag projects?”
“I was wondering what this was about. Most men ask me out because they want to seduce me, not pump me for information.”
“I don’t buy you dinner to seduce you. I do that with my charm.”
“Trust me, the dinner helps. As for black bag projects, a few of our clients have classified technology under development. Most for the Defense Department. Shouldn’t the Director of the Office of Security Science know more about this than a lowly lobbyist?”
“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Nick said, not hiding his irritation.
“I see. Tell me something, Nick, why are the time disruptions happening again?”
“I don’t know. After the detonations at the Portland site, the time ripples were disrupted, randomized. They even seemed to be dissipating. Then a new pattern began to emerge with increasing intersections of sufficient strength to let pieces of the past pop into the present.”
“I’ve heard rumors that the new time periods aren’t all Cretaceous.”
“No, they’re not. They are approaching our present.”
“And your question about classified projects has something to do with this?”
“I don’t know, but the president is holding something back.”
“Can you be more specific? The Aurora is strictly a weapons delivery platform, so I can’t imagine it has anything to do with this. What kind of project are you talking about? Weapon? Energy source?”
“A building. A structure of some kind. Fairly large, probably several stories.”
“A building? The government owns thousands of buildings.”
“There’s something unusual about this one. And before you ask, I don’t know what makes it unusual.”
Elizabeth was picking at what was left of her food.
“Well, if it is large, and secret, then it will be on a restricted military reservation like Area 51, or Kings Peak, Utah. I suppose I can look around and see what I can find.”
“Thanks. Would I be pushing our friendship too far if I mentioned this is urgent?”
Elizabeth sighed deeply but she was still smiling. Pushing her long black hair away from her face as she leaned forward, she whispered, “You know what you owe me is reaching national debt proportions.”
“I’m at your mercy.”
Now Elizabeth reached across the table, taking his hand.
“Just the way I like you,” she said. “Now let’s get out of here.”