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Pitt came to his feet. "while you round her up, I'll go to the office and settle my account. Then she can follow us."
"Follow us?"
"You wanted to talk in private, Mr. Moon. So I'm going to give you a treat and drive you back to Arlington in a real automobile."
The Jensen rolled effortlessly over the highway toward Washington. Pitt kept one eye out for the traffic patrol and the other on the speedometer. His foot held the accelerator at a steady seventy miles an hour.
Moon buttoned his overcoat up to the neck and looked miserable. "Doesn't this relic have a heater?"
Pitt hadn't noticed the cold seeping in through the cloth top. As long as the engine hummed, he was in his element. He turned a knob on the dashboard and soon a thin wisp of warm air spread through the Jensen's interior. "Okay, Moon, we're alone. What's your story?"
"The President would like you to lead fishing expeditions into the St. "Lawrence and Hudson rivers."
Pitt jerked his eyes off the road and stared at Moo
n. "You're joking?"
"I couldn't be more serious. He thinks you're the only qualified man to take a stab at finding the copies of the North American Treaty."
"You know about it?"
"Yes, he took me into his confidence ten minutes after you left his office. I'm to act as liaison during your search."
Pitt slowed the car down to the legal speed limit and was silent for several seconds. Then he said, "I don't think he knows what he's asking."
"I assure you the President has looked at it from every angle."
"He's asking the impossible and expecting a miracle." Pitt's expression was incredulous, his voice quiet.
"There's no way a piece of paper can remain intact after being immersed in water for three-quarters of a century."
"I admit the project sounds unpromising," agreed Moon. "And yet, if there is one chance in ten million a copy of the treaty exists, the President feels we must make an effort to find it.
Pitt stared down the road that split the Virginia countryside. "Suppose for a minute we got lucky and laid the North American Treaty on his lap? What then?"
"I can't say."
"Can't or won't?"
"I'm only a special aide to the President . . . a messenger boy as you so rudely put it. I do what I'm told.
My orders are to give you every assistance and see that your requests for funds and equipment are met.
What happens if and when you salvage a readable document is none of my business and certainly none of yours.
"Tell me, Moon," said Pitt, a faint smile edged on his lips. "Have you ever read How to Win Friends and Influence People?"
"Never heard of it."
"I'm not surprised." Pitt ran up the rear end of an electric minicar that refused to yield the fast lane and blinked the Jensen's lights. The other driver finally signaled and gave way. "What if I say no deal?"
Moon stiffened almost imperceptibly. "The President would be most disappointed."
"I'm flattered." Pitt drove along, lost in thought. Then he turned and nodded. "Okay, I'll give it my best shot. I presume we're to begin immediately."
Moon simply nodded, vastly relieved.
"Item one on your list," said Pitt. "I'll need NUMA's manpower and resources. Most important, Admiral Sandecker must be informed of the project. I won't work behind his back."
