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“Good evening. As you know, early this morning the United States of America experienced the worst natural disaster in our history. A nine-point-one earthquake, followed by several severe aftershocks, hit Southern California, doing unimaginable damage. We have already dispatched thousands of our finest military and medical personnel to ease the pain and attempt to get things back to some reasonable semblance of normal. I promise you tonight, we will make tremendous strides in a very short time to get America’s biggest city back on its feet and to get its great people the help they need. Let no nation on earth think that we are weakened by this event. Our country not only has the capacity to deal with whatever crisis is thrown at us, but in the end it bonds us as Americans and strengthens our will as a free and democratic people. I wish to thank all of the countries that have offered their help; your concern and your generosity are greatly welcomed. Nature does not tell us when or why she makes her decisions, but we must accept them and try to let them transform us into a stronger and better people. And to Los Angeles, your best days are ahead. I assure you of that. May God bless us all. Thank you.”

When the President was through, he just sat very still behind his historic desk. John Van Dyke said, “It was brilliant, sir. I couldn’t have imagined a better speech.”

“Too bad it was a lie,” the President said. Van Dyke knew what Bernstein meant. America did not have the funds to fix this disaster. Where would these “best days” come from? But that didn’t have to be discussed tonight. Van Dyke thought the administration had acted perfectly during the first day of the crisis, and he had learned from his years on Capitol Hill that if you didn’t enjoy the moments when you performed your job in an admirable way, you would find no joy of any kind in public service.

The President left his office and went upstairs to the residence. Betsy had watched the speech and thought it was perfect. “That was all you could do for now,” she said.

“I feel so helpless. I don’t know how to make this okay.”

“You have to let it go tonight. Give yourself a little break and you’ll figure something out. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“I’ll have Henry make a deep-dish pizza. Maybe you should go mountain climbing.” The President smiled. Mountain climbing was one virtual experience he absolutely loved. He would climb on the machine and it made him feel as if he were in the Alps, or any other mountain range he programmed in. It took his mind off everything.

When they had first made the mountain-climbing program for the President, they had put in virtual Secret Service agents climbing along with him. Bernstein was furious. “What the hell did you do that for?”

“Well, Mr. President,” the genius Indian programmer said, “we wanted to make it as realistic for you as possible.”

“Are you crazy? Get them out of here.”

“Yes, sir. Do you want anyone there?”

“Other mountain climbers, people who have no idea who I am. Maybe Lincoln.”

“Yes, sir, I understand now. I forgot, sir. I was just going for realism.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Stewart Bernard was moved out of intensive care and into a room shared by six other people. When Kathy came to visit him, she had no idea his room would be so crowded. It looked like an army barrack, for God’s sake. She sat by her father’s bed and tried to keep up a positive attitude. He didn’t bring up the money issue, so she certainly didn’t want to introduce it. But that was all that was in the back of her mind. How the hell will we pay for this? She forced herself to make light conversation.

“You look great.”

“Thanks,” her father said. “I don’t feel that great.”

“The doctors said it went perfectly. You’ll make a complete recovery.”

“I can’t believe I almost died just keeping some kids from playing basketball. I would have done the same thing myself when I was their age.”

“You can’t think like that. You were doing your job. For all you know, they might have been hurting someone.”

“Yeah,