New Earth

Washington, D.C.

The president of the United States turned to the sweeping painting that covered one wall of the Oval Office and angrily called out: “Show Honolulu!”

The painting—portraits of all the presidents of the twentieth century, from Theodore Roosevelt to Bill Clinton—dissolved into an aerial camera’s view of a city devastated by an immense typhoon. Streets were flooded, roofs torn away, windows smashed, the line of luxury hotels along Waikiki Beach empty and dark while waves surged up the broad beach to smash through shattered glass partitions and into their lobbies.

The television’s sound was muted, but the president and his visitor both winced as if they could hear the roar of the waves, the howl of the wind, the crashing, ripping sounds of destruction.

“That’s my home,” said Kaholo Newton, from behind his gleaming broad desk. His voice choked with a mix of misery and anger, he added, “I grew up there, right there, in Waikiki. Now it’s all gone. All gone.”

“Mr. President,” said Felicia Ionescu, in a hushed voice, “I know there are many demands on you—”

“But you’re here to add one more, aren’t you?” Newton said, practically sneering at the woman.

The two of them were alone in the Oval Office: no aides, no secretaries, no one to record what they said. Kaholo Newton was a native Hawaiian, a small brown-skinned man with luxuriant thick dark hair and iron-hard eyes of ebony. He seldom got up from behind his desk when visitors arrived in the Oval Office: to do so would have revealed his diminutive stature. He was especially wary of standing in the presence of Ionescu, who towered over him.

“Mr. President,” Ionescu began again, “there are twelve men and women on the exploration team at New Earth. They are alone, farther from Earth than any human being has yet gone. They expect a backup mission to be sent to help them.”

President Newton scowled disdainfully. “Don’t try to con me, Felicia. We both know that those twelve people don’t expect any help from us. They volunteered for their mission, knowing they’d be completely on their own.”

“But we owe it to them—”

“Owe? We owe them?” the president fairly shouted. “What about the people of Honolulu? What about the people of Hawaii? What about my family, my mother and three sisters? They’re all missing!”

“I didn’t know,” Ionescu admitted, her voice low.

President Newton closed his eyes and pulled in a deep, calming breath. It was a technique he had used many times: give a visitor the impression that you are struggling masterfully to control yourself.

“What do the Chinese say about this backup mission?” he asked.

Ionescu squirmed slightly in her chair in front of the president’s desk. “They … they haven’t committed themselves, as yet. I believe they are waiting to see what the United States will do.”

“And Chiang? As head of the World Council he must have considerable influence on the people in Beijing. They wouldn’t hang him out to dry; it would be a terrible loss of face for one of their own.”

“Chairman Chiang is … reluctant to commit himself.”

“Ah! So there you are.”

“I thought,” Ionescu said haltingly. “I thought … that if America announces it will support the mission … if America would lead the way…” Her voice trailed off.

The president shook his head. “Impossible. We can’t take money away from reconstruction and recovery projects to send another gaggle of scientists out there.”

“But—”

“Maybe when the people already there send in their reports about what they’ve found,” the president offered.

“We won’t receive any word from them for eight years,” Ionescu said.

The president spread his hands and almost smiled. “All right, eight years. Maybe by then the climate situation will have calmed down somewhat. Maybe by then we can think about sending out another mission. Especially if the news from New Earth is interesting enough.”

What the president did not say was that by then, eight years into the unguessable future, he would be safely retired and some other person would have to face the responsibility of paying for another mission to New Earth.