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A doubtful look crossed the President's face. "According to CIA reports, the Russians retrieved the craft in deep water off Cuba."
"A smokescreen. They even put on a good show of raising the craft. But in reality, they were never able to find it."
"And your people think they know where it lies?"
"We have a site pinpointed, yes."
"Why would you want to beat the Russians out of a few pictures of the moon? There are thousands of photos available to anybody who wants to study them."
"Those were all taken before Jersey Colony was established. The new Russian survey will no doubt reveal the location."
"What harm could it do?"
"I believe that if the Kremlin discovers the truth, the USSR's first mission to the moon will be to attack, capture our colony, and use it for their own purposes."
"I don't buy that. The Kremlin would be laying their entire space program open for retaliation by our side."
"You forget, Mr. President, our lunar project is blanketed in secrecy. No one can charge the Russians with stealing something that isn't supposed to exist."
"You're stabbing in the dark," the President said sharply.
Joe's eyes hardened. "No matter. Our astronauts were the first to step on the lunar surface. We were the first to colonize it. The moon belongs to the United States and we shall fight any intrusion."
"This isn't the fourteenth century," said the President, shocked. "We can't take up arms and keep the Soviets or anyone else off the moon. Besides, the United Nations ruled that no country had jurisdiction over the moon and planets."
"Would the Kremlin heed U.N. policy if they were in our shoes? I think not." Joe twisted in the seat and extracted a putter from the bag. "The eighteenth green. Your final play, Mr. President."
Dazedly, the President lined up the lay of the green and sank a twenty-foot putt. "I could stop you," he said coldly.
"How? NASA has no ready hardware to land a platoon of Marines on the lunar surface. Thanks to the shortsightedness of you and your predecessors, their efforts are wrapped up in the orbiting space station."
"I can't stand by and allow you to start a war in space that might spill over on earth."
"Your hands are tied."
"You could be wrong about the Russians."
"Let us hope so," said Joe. "But I suspect they may have already killed Raymond LeBaron."
"And this is why you've taken me into your confidence?"
"If the worst happens, at least you have been alerted to the facts and can prepare your strategy for the bedlam to follow."
"Suppose I have my bodyguards arrest you as a crackpot assassin, and then blow the lid off Jersey Colony?"
"Arrest me and Reggie Salazar dies. Expose the project and all the behind-the-scenes double-dealing, the backstabbing, the fraud and the lies, and, yes, the deaths that took place to accomplish what has been achieved, will be laid on your political doorstep, beginning when you were sworn into the Senate.
You'll get bounced out of the White House under a bigger cloud than Nixon, providing, of course, you live that long."
"You're threatening me with blackmail?" So far the President had kept his anger under control but now he was seething with fury. "Salazar's life would be a small price to pay to preserve the integrity of the presidency."
"Two weeks, then you can announce the existence of the Jersey Colony to the world. With trumpets sounding and drums beating you can play the big political hero. Two weeks, and you can demonstrate proof of this century's greatest scientific achievement."
"After all this time, why then?"
"Because that's when we've scheduled the original crew to leave Jersey Colony and return to earth with the accumulation of two decades of space research-- reports on meteorological and lunar probes, the scientific results on thousands of biological, chemical, and atmospheric experiments, uncountable photographs and miles of video records of the first human establishment of a planetary civilization. The first phase of the project is completed. The dream of the ìnner core' is finished. Jersey Colony now belongs to the American people."
The President toyed with his putter thoughtfully. Then he asked, "Who are you?"
