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Seven

 

October 2

"What we have to do is leave this meeting with a decision." Miranda said. "The pressures from all directions are at the breaking point, partly because of the elections. So—the question is: Are these the missing people?"

Miranda waited as the others shuffled papers and glances. Outside, an early fall storm sent clouds pouring over the rugged peaks.

"Well, Dr. Greenlea," Dr. Innes said, "I'm afraid this puts you on the spot."

"Yes, we saw this coming. Our general conclusion is that each person of the group carries the characteristics of the concomitant adult."

"And the families?" Constance said.

"Rejection is giving way slowly to acceptance." Olive tapped her notebook. "Very slowly."

"We ought to hold off," Matt said. "Ask for a delay of, say, two weeks so we can hash this out some more."

Miranda ahook her head. "We've asked. The answer is no." She sighed. "I wonder who's really in control here."

Olive pushed herself erect. "I can give you a confidence factor of ninety percent that these people are at least the personalities of the missing adults."

"Really?" Miranda raised an eyebrow.

Olive shrugged. "As I said, we've been hashing this out, to use Matt's terminology, already."

"And if what she just said gets out," Dr. Innes rumbled, "God forbid, we could find ourselves on a very hard spot."

"All right," Miranda said. "Are there any hard objections to this task force saying we believe the children carry the personalities of the missing adults? Lindsey, Anna? Neither of you have said anything."

"We can't find anything to object to right now," Lindsey said. "I'd urge we keep the option open for changes, though."

"Right." Miranda picked up a stylus and began scribbling on her notebook screen. "Anna?"

"I defer to Olive's group, with Lindsey's option."

"OK. We'll say each . . . 'child?'" Miranda looked up.

"I don't like that term," Olive said.

"Agreed," Dr. Innes said. "And 'victim' is too pejorative."

"We could go with what the police use," Randall said. "'Subject.'"

"Each . . .'subject' . . . carries the full personality of each missing . . . each adult reported missing." Miranda looked at what she had written. "Nice and passive."

"We should make it clear we are reserving judgment on whether the 'subjects' are alien or human," Dr. Innes said.

"OK. Let's see . . . Although we feel the subjects carry the . . . something . . . of the adults." She looked up again.

"What was that word you used at the press conference?" Constance asked. "'Essence'?"

"A relic from the New Age," Matt said. "A more common usage would be 'personalities.'"

"Umm, OK. We're at least highly confident, barring any changes through subsequent research, that these . . . subjects carry the personalities of the missing people, but we reserve judgment on the other issues, including the humanity, humanness, humaneness of the individuals of the group. Anything else?"

After a moment, Dr. Innes said, "Just make sure Carson doesn't put anything in the press release we haven't said."

"Roger knows better than that," Miranda said. "I've shown him the two-by-four I'm going to thump him with if he screws up."

 

* * *

 

[["The hearing before the Alden Commission today was going along smoothly until an attorney for the Department of Health and Human Services turned against his own agency.

"The three-judge panel, after again denying a request for video cameras to be allowed to record the proceedings, heard arguments about the status of the Group of Seventeen, including questions about the legal issues surrounding each member and whether they should be released into the care of so-called designated guardians to be appointed by the HHS.

"The questions came up after the panel heard the statement from the Holn Effect Task Force, or HETF, that the individuals, whatever else they were, do carry the memories, behavior and personalities of the adults termed missing at the site of the Holn landing. Once the panel accepted this, two motions were presented that no one had indicated would come up: a motion by HHS for a ruling on the legal status of the children and a motion to allow the members to leave confinement in custody of their respective guardians. The latter motion was made by Robert Carlisle, the well-known rights advocate and de facto head of the lawyers representing relatives of the missing people. Justice Alger Alden asked the HHS group if they had any objections, and Radmilla Everett, chief counsel, said no.

"At that point, Jason Kylie, a career lawyer for the department, stood up and said there were plenty of objections. When Federal Judge Brandon Catlin asked Ms. Everett about this, she stated she was not aware of any objections nor of any plans to make any. Federal Judge Anthea Tallulah, widely regarded to be in line as the first black female judge to be nominated to the Supreme Court, asked in her soft Mississippi-accented voice who, exactly, Kylie represented. Kylie then said, and I quote, 'I guess I represent the scientists because they don't seem to have a voice here.' He then explained that several issues had yet to be resolved before a decision on releasing the group could be made, but Everett said that was not true and HHS was ready to proceed. The judges, after advising the HHS lawyers to get their house in order, took the motions under consideration, again over the vigorous objections of Kylie.

"At this point, it's still not clear who Kylie was speaking for. None of the participants had any comments after the hearing, but it seems clear there have been some behind-the-scenes negotiations. The other question, of course, is the possibilities of appeal if Mr. Kylie or someone else decides it's necessary. With a Supreme Court justice sitting on the commission, however, there might not be any avenue.

"Rolf Treadwell, CNN, Washington."]]

 

* * *

 

"That was real slick, Radmilla, real slick, indeed." Miranda paced the floor between the desk Avram sat behind and the couch Radmilla sat on. On the opposite end of that couch sat Harrison Conroy. Miranda already had bought her airline ticket when Avram called. "Your ability to spring unannounced surprises is quite impressive."

"The sarcasm does not help," Radmilla said, toying with a long gold-colored chain around her neck. "We have had many discussions about the situation and believe we have found the best solutions for all involved."

Miranda stopped, looked at the sharp-faced woman who parted her brown hair down the middle and cut it off at the ear lobes. "Define 'we.'"

"In the department—"

"Who?"

"You are not the only people involved with the group," Conroy said. "Several agencies—"

"Who? CIA? FBI? NSC? NASA? NOAA? NTSB? CDC? FAA? FDA? HHS—well, that one we know. NBS? OSHA? DOE? DARPA? NRC? NAS? NIMH? The President's Council on Physical Fitness—"

"Please, Dr. Sena, can we ease off a little?" Conroy's right hand fluttered in the air. "Just say that representatives from many agencies, including some of the ones you mentioned, have been meeting to provide guidance. The consensus brought forward is reflected in the motions presented to the Alden Commission."

"You didn't ask us about those motions. You just asked if we could say the missing adults could be the mysterious children. You did not ask if we were ready to let these people walk off. Our answer would have been no. Flat, unequivocal, no. Hell no."

"Look, you've been studying them for nearly four months. You should have been able to make some decisions by now. We feel, partly, they should not be held in an institutional environment any longer."

"Oh, I agree, absolutely." Miranda leaned against the desk. "Get them out of this hospital. But find one place to house them, a bed-and-breakfast inn, or a motel, one of those all-suites jobs. Put them all together in one wing where they can interact with each other. They're getting along fine because, as one of them put it, they're all in the same boat. Let the families move into another part of the motel where they can visit or not. In other words, do the assimilation slowly, day by day. Let them get used to each other first, instead of jamming them together at once."

"How long do you envision this taking?" Radmilla said, frowning.

"At least a year."

"A year!" Conroy snorted. "We don't have a year."

"Why not? You had six years with the Holn. You, the government, whatever, can spare the time for these . . . citizens."

"I'm afraid not, Dr. Sena," Conroy said. "The president has made it very clear she wants this taken care of as soon as possible. With as little fuss as possible, with as little cost as possible. The president would like to clear this issue so she can concentrate on the main issues of the campaign. Your proposal goes way beyond any fiscal sense. We've advised the president the best path is to allow the families to take the children into custody, take them home, try to reestablish a normal life as much as possible. Meanwhile, you can continue your studies."

"Normal life?" Miranda resumed pacing. "Look, there's still a lot of fear out there, unsettled minds grasping for explanations. Listen to the TV. Hear the uncertainty, look at the questions in their eyes. Most of the people in this country—and maybe the world—still haven't made up their minds about the Holn, much less this. We need time—"

"You yourself said time already has run out. Change your mind?"

"Of course not. The deed has been done, and that's the problem. We need the time to absorb this—"

Conroy leaned forward. "We don't have time to go slow. Perhaps if you can't understand that, then we need someone else who—"

The sound of a hand slamming down on a desk top made everyone jump.

"Is this a threat I hear?" Avram surged to his feet. "Is this a threat issuing from the lips of the adviser to presidents and hobnobber with makers of law and dinner-party goer with chief executives of giant corporations?"

"Now listen, Avram—"

The scientist pointed a finger at him. "Harrison, for God's sake, dig into your psyche and call up the fragments of your scientific background you've buried under the bureaucratic persona. Think, man! I'm telling you, this thing could blow up in your face a lot worse than it has so far. Go back and tell your president she thinks she's got problems now, wait until she releases these people on an unprepared world."

A flush had flowed across Conroy's face at the beginning of the outburst, but he had regained control by the finish. "You don't understand all of the factors at work here," he said with a definite chill. "You are not the only group undertaking to resolve the situation. You are an advisory group, and only an advisory group. The final decisions on all aspects of this will come from elsewhere."

"Where?" Miranda said. "CIA? FB—"

"Please, Dr. Sena. That is not—"

"Harrison."

Miranda suddenly thought that if the two men got into a contest on who could chill their voices the most, Avram would win hands-down.

"The President of the United States and her Cabinet. Satisfied?"

"Only if they get good advice."

"Avram, damnit, I'm getting tired—"

"All right, all right, all right." Miranda put heat into her voice. "We're getting wrapped up in our own power plays and forgetting the seventeen people whose lives have been tossed upside down. We're supposed to be helping them, you know."

Radmilla opened her mouth, but Miranda pushed on. "I'm willing to compromise here. If the court rules in favor of the guardian motion, then fine. Let the group be released into the guardians' care. But—keep them in one place. Here—I mean, in Albuquerque, or here in Washington, or wherever. In a place like I described earlier, where we can separate them if necessary. That way, we will be able to monitor them instead of having to chase them all over the country."

"That makes sense—" Avram began, but Radmilla finally cut him off as she stood up.

"Actually, I believe you people have very little foundation to stand on."

Miranda and Avram blinked at her.

"Attorneys for the families say they have evidence of mistreatment."

"What!" Avram exploded.

"Surely, Dr. Rolstein, you yourself remember the comments by some of the group about how they had been confronted by someone wearing masks, stripping off their clothing and shouting questions at them?"

"That was—" Avram began.

"That's just a start. There's the enforced medical tests you've been performing, most without their permission. There's the issue of withholding information—"

"Withholding and not knowing are two different things," Miranda said. "They've been informed of all we've learned—"

"I think we can successfully challenge that, but that certainly isn't all. We can show how you've denied them televisions and other electronic media, or how all forms of newspapers and magazines have been censored of articles about the Holn and their own situation. In addition," she said to Miranda's shocked face, "these people have not been allowed to make phone calls, to contact loved ones and assure them they're all right."

"In other words," Conroy said as he, too, got to his feet, "you have not been treating these people very well, and the families are getting quite upset about it. Their attorneys are prepared to raise a big stink about it, and in the interest of justice and fair play, we have come to the conclusion we'd better go along with their requests."

Miranda stared at Conroy, then shifted her gaze to Radmilla. "Damn, all right, listen. If what you say is true about the news censorship, although I don't know why it should be"—she glanced at Avram, but he had his head down and was pinching the bridge of his nose with a thumb and finger—"we'll back off from all of that. We'll give them each a stereo HDTV with remote control and we won't deny them access to any magazine, book, or tape. We'll give them cell phones, e-mail, access to the Web. We'll stop the testing except for standard daily vital sign collection. We'll promise we'll do no more testing without their permission and we'll explain everything we do and what we find out in writing if necessary. But please, don't let them scatter. We cannot let these people out. Nobody is ready for them. Not us, not the government, and certainly not their loved ones."

"You make a compelling case," Conroy said evenly. "We will consider the proposition."

"One more thing, too. Please, bear with me." Miranda planted herself in front of Conroy. "We have no way of determining yet if these people are going to mature in the normal human lifespan or even if they'll mature at all. In other words, are they going to grow up again? If they're going to be stuck at this size and maturation level for the rest of their lives, what kind of burden do you think that will cast on their designated guardians?"

Conroy stepped aside. "Important issues. They will be included in the deliberations."

Avram looked up. "Harrison, I'm depending on you to shake the movers and shakers into doing the right thing. This goes far beyond us, the government, or even the Group of Seventeen. This has repercussions that'll reverberate for generations."

Harrison Conroy buttoned his jacket, smoothed the lapels. "All aspects will be considered," he said.

 

* * *

 

[["The Alden Commission has just released rulings related to the Group of Seventeen. A preliminary statement sent by fax to CNN gives just a few details. We expect a full brief will be released later today.

"Briefly, the commission accepts the scientific findings that the seventeen children are, in fact, the missing seventeen adults because their personalities have been carried over intact, quote, by whatever means was carried out, end quote. In that vein, the commission says, because these people are not the physiological size that they were, and because scientific findings show they have the physical maturation level of nine-year-old children, these people cannot function as productive members of this society. Therefore, all rights they heretofore had gained are to be transferred to the designated guardians as determined by the Department of Health and Human Services. This includes property rights, custodial rights, and any other rights normally assumed by adult citizens. They are children—I'm quoting now from the press statement—and should be treated as such. The commission further urges that the transfer of property and financial assets be expedited as quickly as possible so all legal matters can be cleared up quickly.

"In addition, the commission rules there is no reason to detain any member of the group any longer because they have been shown to be healthy and do not pose a health risk to others. The court says once the proper U.S. government agencies determine who the guardians will be, all individuals must be allowed to leave forthwith if that is the wish of the guardians. All of these rulings are unanimous, according to the statement.

"When CNN tried to get a comment from the scientific board, the person who answered the phone, upon being told of the rulings, uttered a curse and hung up.

"Rolf Treadwell, CNN, Washington."]]

 

* * *

 

"Theodoric!" The FBI agent jumped at Miranda's shout.

"I'm just a poor, innocent field agent," he said, pressing himself against a wall in the conference room, holding up his laptop and peering over the top. "I got a phone call fifteen minutes before that Treadwell guy went on the air. It was a done deal. They didn't ask for my opinion. Honest."

Miranda let out a breath, turned away. She tended to believe him, but she still turned back and shook a finger at him. "If I found out you had anything to do with any of this, or I find out you've been skulking around behind my back, I'm going to flay you alive. You got that?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am."

Miranda headed to the table. The others quickly and quietly took their places, some suppressing grins.

"All right, this meeting of the toothless and impotent Holn Effect Task Force will come to order." She sat down. "The first thing you have to realize now is just how powerless we are. Exhibit A: The rulings by the Alden bunch. Not one cautionary step we recommended was adopted. Exhibit B: Jason Kylie, the attorney who had the audacity to speak for us at the hearing, has been kicked off the HHS lawyer team. Exhibit C: Our orders to transfer to California posthaste." She looked down at a sheet of paper. "Part of the organization will be at UCLA, the other part at USC. Headquarters will be UCLA because that's where my office is. You will be allowed to go to your respective home bases and do work from there, but group leaders must be ready to fly to L.A. at a moment's notice. Comments?"

"Dr. Sena," Dr. Innes said. "I feel like we must try at least once again, and strongly, to get some of these decisions reversed, or at least modified."

"I can practically guarantee the answer, but, yes, we can try. Is there something specific?"

"While you were in Washington, we put our heads together and wrote a position paper," Constance said. "It contains a one-page abstract and ten pages of discussion about where we are with the research and extrapolations as to why the group should be kept together. Dr. Rolstein told us of your compromise, so we included that in our call."

"We've included some of our findings, mostly what JPL had found out," Lindsey said.

Miranda leaned back in her chair. The lack of rest from flitting to and from Washington had begun to work at her, making her limbs lethargic. She was impressed, though; she wouldn't have given a wooden nickel on the chance the group would knit together so tightly.

"And all of you are supporting this?"

"We've all signed off," Matt said. "Mr. Theodoric also, and Dr. Betterm—Wanda, by fax. Only one signature line is empty—yours."

"It won't stay that way. This is terrific. Thank you."

Dr. Innes rubbed his chin. "It doesn't mean we all see eye-to-eye, you understand." He glanced over at Matt.

"Oh, absolutely, I wouldn't have it any other way." She felt like smiling.

"We were wondering if we should ask Roger to prepare a version for the press," Constance said.

Miranda considered. "No. This document is to stay within the task force and go only to HHS. I think we'd be better off if we're not seen as trying a runaround of the decision process."

"You mean an end-run," Matt said.

Miranda waved a hand. "Whatever."

"Miranda," Orlando said, "who decided to censor the news for the group? And make them incommunicado?"

Miranda's eyes went to Jack, who put up both palms. "Not guilty. We concerned ourselves with security, nothing else."

Olive Greenlea stirred. "I think," she said slowly, "that came out of a consensus among us. At the Santa Fe hospital, before the task force was formed. We thought that if the people saw what was being said about them, the trauma could be worsened." Her hands fluttered. "I-I'm sorry—"

"Your decision was made only for the first days," Miranda said. "And, as far as I'm concerned, it was the right one. I confronted Avram—who, after all, was in this from the beginning. He knows exactly who made the order because he took the phone call. He says it was a mistake, he's sorry, but it was one of those things that got started and then fell aside forgotten."

"But HHS is using that against us as evidence of our . . . cruelty," Olive said.

Miranda was pained by the hurt and confusion in the other woman's eyes. She sat up, shaking off the tiredness trying to steal over her. "More evidence of our powerlessness. HHS is responsible for all those decisions, but HHS is shoving that blame back on us. The behind-the-scenes negotiations Mr. Treadwell mentioned are to make us the scapegoats."

"Why?" Three voices demanded at once.

"A hotheaded journalist coined the phrase in the '60s," Matt said. "'Fear and loathing.'"

"And as much as I disagree with this brash fool," Dr. Innes said, "he is correct in this case. Ladies and gentlemen, I suggest we tread very lightly from here on."

The members of the task force fell silent.

"Agreed," Miranda said, "but don't let it interfere with your work. We have been given a charge to find out what happened and why. We cannot drop the ball now. Just remember, we're not doing this for the government. It's for those seventeen people. Be wary, but bear down on your work.

"People, we've got to get those answers."

 

* * *

 

[["Many of the children belonging to the so-called Group of Seventeen have left Albuquerque, the first time many of them have been away from any kind of hospital since the day the Holn ship departed four months ago.

"The individuals are leaving in the custody of designated guardians, such as Harold Coner, seen here leaving in the company of his sister, Janet Caperton of Wilmington, Delaware. To be a designated guardian, the applicants must show proof they are related to the child, they are gainfully employed and can provide all amenities, and that they are of sound moral character. A special committee appointed by the Department of Health and Human Services handles the applications and makes the decisions.

"Some confusion has been noted in the identifications of the children. For instance, Eddie Samuel Thompson, the only African-American in the group, nearly slipped away without anyone noticing, but a CNN crew taped him with his brother Michael, of Chicago. Michael apparently bought Eddie a beer in a hotel bar, but was warned by the Albuquerque policeman seen here with the pair that the Alden Commission ruling makes it illegal to buy liquor for the children of the group. Michael Thompson, saying he didn't realize the ruling went that far, apologized and said it wouldn't happen again.

"Other members of the group seen leaving today include Myra Caslon, here leaving with her husband and six children. She originally had been identified as her own granddaughter. In this still frame, however, Ms. Caslon can be seen between her youngest son, Sydney, eleven, and daughter Linette, in her twenties. Of all the images seen so far, this one seems to illustrate clearly what has befallen these people. Caslon, fifty-four years of age, is the mother of six children, and yet here she is, not even as tall as her youngest child.

"Other members of the group have left already, slipping away unnoticed, including the oldest member, Earl Jackson Othberg, seventy-nine. A spokesman for the hospital says three will remain there tonight and leave tomorrow, but the hospital has declined to identify them. More than likely they are Cheryl Vroman, thirty-five, a former San Francisco lawyer, Pablo 'Pete' Aragon, thirty-two, a former video operator for a local CBS affiliate, and Aaron Lee Fairfax, forty-three, a former stockbroker.

"CNN also has heard reports that the scientists of the Holn Effect Task Force attempted one last time to delay or stop the release of the group. The scientists allegedly signed a petition which was presented to HHS Secretary Roberta Fletcher yesterday by Avram Rolstein, the administrator of the task force, but the petition was rejected. Spokespersons for neither the task force nor HHS will comment, however.

"Marinka Svoboda, CNN, Albuquerque."]]

 

* * *

 

"It wasn't a petition," Olive muttered. "It was a desperate plea for sanity."

"We lost," Constance said.

"Reason usually does come out second-best," Matt said, flicking the TV off with a remote. "Or third, or fourth."

Miranda stirred herself in the chair next to the hotel-room desk. She, Olive, Constance, and Matt had gone to lunch together, then had come back to Miranda's room to watch the scattering of the Group of Seventeen.

"We lost a little," she said. "But they, the children, whatever you want to call them, just lost a hell of a lot." She ran a hand through her dark hair. "I'm frightened, folks. Frightened for them, frightened for us, because God knows what's going to happen now."

 

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