“Since then, I have seen and talked with the president and his wife in company with Mr. Riley, who accompanied me on the expedition to Pistach-home and other worlds. During that journey we saw and were greeted by three other races besides the Pistach. These were the Flibotsi, the Thwakians, and the Vixbot. Our entire journey was recorded, and when the security people are through with the recordings, I’m sure they’ll be shown to the American people, and to the world.”
There was more whispering, more running back and forth, and finally the senator who had assumed the chair decided he didn’t want it anymore. Sounding as severe and threatening as he was able to manage around the distractions, the chairman pro tem told her she was still under subpoena and would have to appear again later.
The big talk on the TV blather shows that night concerned the disappearance of all the pregnant men plus some others who had worked for them. Among them, it was alleged, was the intermediary’s husband. Much was made of the fact that Bert had been scheduled to appear before the same committee Benita had been subpoenaed for, that she had denied his allegations, and that he himself had disappeared. Benita smiled at this, saying a brief litany of thanks to the Inkleozese, who had removed him even though he wouldn’t be useful as a breeder. Getting Bert out of circulation relieved her mind a good deal. If he couldn’t get a drink for a year or two, it should do him a world of good!
Some TV channels were still showing interviews with him, but they were obviously old ones. Though he didn’t look drunk, precisely, he was definitely glassy eyed from something. The only hopeful item reported was that no further hearings were planned until Senator Morse could be found. Benita felt that by that time the situation would be either improved or lost. Either way, it would be long past crying about.
Next morning, the disappearances were still in the news. The Senate demanded an investigation. Lupe Roybal-Morse suggested that Morse may have been so upset by being pregnant that he simply went off to be alone. His colleagues pretended to believe that was impossible, though she knew him better than they did. Within a few hours, it was reported on CNN that every man used as a brooder had vanished. The president issued a statement saying he had been informed the Inkleozese had wanted to take them to a safe place, where they would not be harassed by the news media, that he was assured they would be returned.
Surprisingly, except for the religious far right (those who were left) nobody screamed much about it. Comics had a field day, of course. Jay Leno did a Morse-travelogue, to Bee or not to Bee. Actually, Benita thought, the Inkleozese looked more like wasps, but it was close enough to be funny.
Benita called Angelica, who seemed to be coping all right, though she wanted to know where her father was. Benita said she didn’t know where he was being taken, which was true, astronomy not being her forte. “However, I’m assured he’s safe, just as Carlos is safe. You don’t have to worry about either of them.”
“I haven’t been. But then, I feel guilty because I haven’t been. You know?”
“Remember what I told you about drowning, Angel. Try to keep your head above water.”
The following day the disappearances were replaced in the headlines by reports of massive slaughters in Northern Ethiopia, coastal Bangladesh, and among the Chinese settlers in Tibet, with lots and lots of gory pictures, enough to keep the media scrambling for the next few weeks, even if nothing else happened at all.
Chiddy and Vess took five days to make their trip, arriving back on Earth in what StarTrek w ould call a shuttle, except that it was morphable. The big ship, they said, was on the back of the moon, a considerable distance from those of the predators. Benita phoned Chad, as arranged, and within the hour a parade of long black limousines bearing dark-suited “spiritual advisors” began to arrive at Benita’s back door. Benita didn’t see any of them. They came in the door, got into the elevator, and vanished. The Reverend, the president’s spiritual advisor, the Big Sa, wasn’t scheduled to arrive until the President did.