Part 7 (1/2)

He grabbed and kissed her the same way. 'What, Doc?'

Lauren lunged at him angrily. But Gary had excellent reflexes. He stepped aside and she hit the floor. He kicked her in the b.u.t.t while she was down.

'd.a.m.n,' she swore.

'You women doctors,' he said. 'I never met a hornier lot.' Then he made a mistake. As he moved to poke her in the side, he stepped behind her leg and she kicked his calf out from under him. He crashed to the floor, and she was up in an instant. She grabbed a cus.h.i.+on from her chair and smacked him in the face as he crawled onto his knees. He went down again, and she jumped onto his chest and pinned his arms with her knees. He tried to bite her thigh and she shouted something barbaric and whacked him with her pillow a second time. He began to laugh his fool face off. He was playing with her. He calmly took hold of her wrists, and squeezed tight. It was like being caught in two vises.

'So, Lori, you like to be on top,' he said.

Lauren fought to free her hands. 'Let me go!'

'No.'

'I'm going to tell the press you're gay,' she said.

'I already told them you're a s.l.u.t.'

'That's bulls.h.i.+t.'

'I told Walkers at CBS that I had you a dozen times in free fall. From behind.'

'You're lying.'

'Then why are you upset?' Gary asked.

'Because you won't let me go!'

'You love me. Gimme a kiss.'

'I'm going to squash your rocket!'

Gary groaned. 'You already are. Jesus.' He tossed her aside as if she were a plastic mannequin. She rolled on the floor and sat up quickly, panting. She realized she was soaked with sweat, and that her hair was a mess. She felt exasperated, and great. She loved to wrestle. She smiled.

'Look at us,' she said. 'And the president's going to be here any second.'

'Any second? He's here already.'

'Huh?'

'You probably didn't notice, but the video phone's been beeping for the last minute.'

Gary was right. Lauren scampered to the phone and punched the accept b.u.t.ton. Lucy Delgado, their cook, appeared on the screen.

'Lauren! I've been trying to reach you. The president's here. He's waiting for you three.'

'How long since he arrived?'

'Only a few minutes. But Dean expected you to be in the conference room.'

The conference room was where they met with the press - on separate sides of thick tempered gla.s.s. The room had been secured for the president's visit. 'Tell them we'll be there in a minute,' Lauren said.

Lucy looked worried. 'Lauren, it's no business of mine, but I think you should comb your hair. You look like you've just been in a brawl.'

'Why, Lucy, that's a remarkably perceptive observation. Give Dean my message.' Lauren cut the connection and glared at Gary. 'Change your clothes. Now.'

Gary rolled over on the floor and yawned. 'You remind me of Lorraine,' he said.

EIGHT.

The president of the United States talked about the weather. It was nicer here in Florida than D.C., he said. The intervening gla.s.s was flawlessly clear, and his voice sounded natural enough through the overhead speakers. So far Lauren had been impressed by the man, but her fascination was more intellectual than emotional. When she reminded herself how powerful he was, then she felt awe. Otherwise, he was, as Jim said, like everyone else.

Next to the president sat Dean Ramsey. He looked tired, not that he ever looked well. He had dark circles under his eyes that made him resemble a homeless addict just lifted from the streets and fitted into fine clothes. Yet now even his suit was wrinkled. He was a notorious workaholic, and married to a woman who supposedly b.i.t.c.hed in her sleep. He never went home. At his feet were a black attache case and a bulky black suitcase. Lauren found herself waiting for them to be opened.

Finally the president cleared his throat. Lauren leaned forward expectantly. He was going to tell them something.

'Contrary to what you may believe from TV,' the president said, 'I'm not a man of many words.' He stopped and straightened his tie. 'Have any of you any idea why this meeting was called?'

Lauren shook his head. Jim remained silent. Gary alone spoke. Thankfully, after a word from Jim - just a word, Lauren thought - Gary had changed into decent clothes. Gary said, 'Are you here to tell us what became of the Russians?'

The president smiled faintly. 'Do you think I know?'

Gary shrugged. 'You're the president.'

'I spoke with their president last May,' the president said. 'He had nothing new to tell me. I believe he was being sincere.'

'Did you question him specifically on the loss of their orbiting cosmonaut?' Jim asked. 'Supposedly they were in communication with Carl Bensk for days after their lander fell silent.'

'He had nothing to say, except that they just lost communications with Bensk, for no reason.'

'Was Bensk in good condition when this happened?' Jim asked.

'I would a.s.sume,' the president said.

'Why?' Jim asked.

'Why not?'

'Because he never came back,' Jim said.

The president frowned. 'Your questions are appreciated, Professor Ranoth. What we have to show you tonight may throw some light upon their fate, or at least upon the fate of those who died on Mars. One point about my talk with their president, something that testifies to his sincerity - we have been given permission, and every a.s.sistance, to dock with their orbiting Gorbachev. Obviously, they are as anxious as we to discover what became of their men.'

'Please tell us what you do know, sir,' Gary said.

The president signaled to Dean, who opened the black attache case and removed a sealed envelope. He pa.s.sed the envelope to Gary through a pressurized drop on the far wall. Accepting the envelope was a break in quarantine, Lauren thought, unless, of course, the contents had been sterilized, which she figured must be the case. Gary tore open the envelope. Inside were two colored slides. Following instructions from Dean, Gary placed the slides in a projector that they often used to display diagrams for the press.

'Lights,' the president said. The room fell dark. On the screen appeared a photograph of the Martian landscape: salmon-pink slopes and orange sky, plus plenty of rocks -the planet's trademark. From the terrain, Lauren recognized it as a picture relayed to Earth by the Martian Rover. The Rover had landed on Mars in 1996. It was an enormous mobile vehicle with two inflatable wheels twenty feet high. It had an instrument package - containing TV cameras and experiment platform - suspended safely between its wheels. On the way to Mars, each wheel - made of sixteen separate pie sectors of kicka.s.s plastic - had been deflated. But once on Mars the Rover was able to drive itself over the plains by sequentially inflating and deflating the sectors of its wheels. The Rover was able to cope with rocks up to three feet high and had radar to warn it of approaching holes. It had worked beautifully for two days, driving about the Utopia Planitia region, taking excellent pictures, and digging up and testing numerous soil samples.