Chapter 4 : Passive Sonar

1:28 pm
The White House

"Listen, if Leo asks where I was this afternoon, tell him I was out on a date." Josh said, stopping right in front of his assistant's bent body as she put a new roll of paper into the fax machine. She fairly buzzed with the activity, and a general spirit of being pleasantly pleased by life. He looked down at his watch and frowned. Normally, that had worn off about an hour ago. Normally, he found it annoying. Today he found it refreshing, and was glad she was here.

Donna's head popped back up in front of him. Right in front of him. He could see all the little freckles on her nose. "You weren't out on a date, you were wandering around outside like an idiot on the second hottest day of the year with a suit and tie on." She pressed a half-full bottle of water against his hand and then swept out around him towards her cubicle.

Josh frowned and followed her, "Donna, just tell him I was out with a woman." Dutifully, he unscrewed the bottle top and drank deeply.

Donna rolled her eyes and sent a heavy wave of annoyed humor at him. "Fine, I'll lie for you, but I need something in return."

He briefly considered what it could be as he picked up a couple of files he needed and decided to walk them to Oliver Babish's office. Donna followed quickly behind him on his heels, eager for his response. "What is it?"

"Funnily enough, I have a date tonight." She said, smiling and tilting her head like so in his direction. At this exact moment in time, Joshua Lyman decided he hated all women. Particularly the blondes. "A real one," she continued, just to spite him. "And so I need to leave today at eight. We're going out to dinner, and I'm going to have a full three course meal and engage in actual conversation in which I will share alluring tidbits about myself to convince him that I am worth the effort of putting up with the sixteen hour workdays my horrible boss keeps me at like a slave driver."

Briefly, he searched his mind for any pressing legislation passing in the next twenty four hours that required pressing attention from the White House. Coming up blank, Josh opened his mouth and said, "Fine."

"Really?" Donna said, and she practically lept off the floor with glee. "You understand that I will not be coming back here tonight under any circumstances?"

"Here's a thought," Josh said as they both walked out of the bullpen. "How about we actually talk about work at work? Or better yet, what if we worked at work?"

"Can I talk to you about this thing about Carrick and the Marine Mammals Protection Act?"

"No," Josh said, picking up his pace.

Donna just stepped it up herself. Her obvious joy made him feel queasy in the stomach. "I'm telling you anyway."

Josh shrugged and reached his hand out for the banister to start trotting down the stairs. "And I'll be ignoring you."

Dauntless, Donna smiled and said, "I really think you need to pay more attention to this, Josh. Cetaceans- that is Latin for "large ocean creature" rely principally on sonar for their ability to navigate both shallow coastal breeding grounds and the deeper trenches in open water where they feed. Sonar as you know, is an extra spatial ability involving the projection of sound waves in a medium, using the different speeds of return to calculate where solid objects are in space. Typically, dolphins and whales project these sounds at a level of 30-120 kHz. In busy coastal areas - areas like the Puget Sound, which see a lot of ocean traffic, however, scientists have recorded these sounds at higher levels than normal." She waited a moment. "It's the equivalent of shouting to be heard in a rock concert. The dolphins are shouting, Josh."

"The dolphins are shouting," Josh repeated, desperately trying to walk faster and find some way of blocking out Donna's insistent enthusiasm.

"They're shouting to be heard." Donna confirmed, giving him a look. "I have a date tonight. You don't find that interesting?"

Josh frowned, and bit down on his lip. He hated it when she played with him like a toy. Clearly, she had to know how taunting and unfair this was, dangling her date in front of him and daring him to come up with a clever plan to keep her here. Unfortunately, he couldn't come up with anything off the top of his head. Dropping the folder on Babish's desk, he looked around the office. This office, full of busy people doing busy things and thinking busy things was crowding out his own thoughts. "Not exactly. I'm leaving at eight. You know, if you sleep with guys on the first date, they're going to think you're easy."

Donna blasted hot anger. "I thought you wanted to talk about work today."

"I do." Josh asserted, looking over at her before ducking his head away.

"Your meeting with Davidson is in twenty minutes, the organic food regulation proposal is here." She practically stuffed it in his chest. "Read in the cab and have the salmon not the steak." Donna gave a look down at his hands, and he noted the bottle of water. Josh looked up at her, and then, more than a little frightened by her roiling mood, he had a drink of water. Donna squinted and said, "Remember, Skinner at four."

By mid-afternoon, exhaustion had set in for everyone in the West Wing. People sat at their desks and turgidly nibbled at what was left of their lunches. Josh was far too full to even consider eating again; the lunch with Davidson had unexpectedly tuned into a three-course meal and a discussion of the President's eating habits. If he could blame a discussion about Oregon's green bean production on someone, he would most certainly make an effort to find that person out and throttle them. Once he was done digesting.

He wandered into the Communication's Bullpen to find Will Bailey leaning back on a desk with his sister, both of them captivated by the highlight reel of the Senator's 'shocking turnaround', as they had tagged it on CNN. "Hola. Anyone think we should institute a siesta around here?"

Elsie responded mutely with a slow moving wave that barely broke for his presence. "You're the miracle worker. If you can do that, you can do anything. I believe now, Josh, I believe." She gave a nod to the TV set and clapped her hands. Josh tilted his head up to regard the clip piece until the remaining fifteen seconds were up. Beside her, Will stirred from his own food coma, little sparks of brain activity going off like a firecracker that has just been lit. Josh raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"Unlike Elsie, I don't believe you have Jesus-like powers of raising the dead." Will responded, looking at him. "I'm not sure you're Tinkerbell either."

"If you hear the rumors I hear, he's more like Peter Pan," She suggested with sudden liveliness and then picked up her coffee mug and a folder, before sauntering off around the corner, towards the East Wing.

Josh flicked his attention from the doors to Will, "Well, thank you. I feel so flattered right now."

Will shrugged with nonchalance, "I just follow her lead. What's up?"

"There's this thing, it involves the Navy and dolphins..." Josh started, and took a step towards Will's office.

Will followed him, albeit reluctantly. "You do realize I'm the Air Force Reserve, right? It's a whole other branch of the military and - dolphins?" His curiosity peaked into bouncing waves.

"Yeah." Josh said, "You see, the Navy has spent a lot of time, and money in R&D for their new Low-frequency Active Sonar. It just happens to broadcast at a level of 240 decibels, which is several times louder than the frequency dolphins and whales use for their own sonar, a potential violation of the Marine Mammals Protection Act. Normally, it wouldn't be on my desk, and it wouldn't be on your desk, but Carrick's taken a personal interest in it, and we need his support for military base closures, so... "

"You want me to lend some military air to the meeting?" Will jumped.

Josh snorted a laugh, "No, I want you to actually take the meeting, talk Carrick down and - you know, lend some military air to this White House."

Will doubted and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Right. Okay."

Josh picked himself up off the chair he had perched on and was about to make his way out when Will blurted out: "I'm sorry, but: does this White House ever get tired of always taking the punch on security issues?"

"What?"

"Or do you just not notice? You just asked me to go take a meeting with a three-term Senator who is on the cusp of leaving the Democratic party, to convince him shelve a monumentally expensive and cutting edge piece of security equipment to save the lives of dolphins so that three months from now we can shut down the Army base that employs several thousand people in his state. We have a 51/49 majority in the Senate, or haven't you noticed?" Will accused, temper lashing out. "You're the White House's Chief Domestic Policy adviser, tell me how this strategy works for the Democratic party. I'll give you another example: registration.

We're running a massive peace-keeping mission in Kundu, the middle-east is heating up because Iran is building a nuclear reactor and China is making territorial advances on Japan. Yet the only security message we seem to send out on a day to day basis is that the American people should relax and let their children go to school with other children who might wake up from naptime and decide to blow up the school without even knowing who these children are. No wonder we can't take back the House."

From the doorway, Toby glowered with dark brown jagged waves. "It's institutionalized racism."

"Toby," Will said with a tilt of his head.

"It's institutionalized racism. I don't care if it's one vote or a million votes, mutant registration is institutionalized racism, and this administration will not be party to it." Toby countered, eyes fixed on Will. Josh sat quietly in his chair and looked down at the ground, keeping his sudden whim to lash out at Will firmly in check.

Will leaned against the desk and looked from Josh to Toby, irritation sliding into a false placidity. "I'm saying, a national version of Erica's Law. Let's put mandatory pre-natal genetic screening on the books, and make it available for everyone. It saves lives, studies have shown, when the delivery room attendants are prepared with a mutant stress kit. No more babies unexpectedly being born needing a carbon dioxide filled environment. Do you tick off the little box that says 'Caucasian' on forms? One little check box, during the census and on your income tax. That's all it takes."

Josh looked up and found his voice, "The race boxes on federal forms are voluntary."

Will scuffed his foot against the carpet. "So is this. It isn't registration, it is a voluntary act taken by those who have nothing to hide. You've heard this argument before - moderate Democrats proposing acceptable half-way measures to appease both sides of the issue."

"It is not voluntary. It's unacceptable. There are no federal guidelines protecting mutants from discrimination in hiring, in health care, in schools." Toby ticked off the three items on his fingers before looking up at Will. "It is not voluntary when failure to report would be seen as an attempt to deceive."

"There's the sixteenth and seventeenth amendments," Will said. "And McCoy versus the New York Academy of Medicine, coming soon to a Supreme Court near you."

"God and the fine nursing team of the Chief Justice willing," Toby said.

Will muttered, "Amen," and turned around his desk to pull the folder out of his hand. Josh was momentarily swamped by his dismal disappointment. "Now if you'll excuse me, Flipper needs me."

Toby continued to lean against the desk, eyes focused on the window but his attention solely on Josh. Josh let his breath go out of his nose, and loosened his hands on the edge of the chair. Each level of his shielding let go, pop pop pop and then he turned to look at Toby, raising his eyebrow. Toby's complicated emotions peppered Josh's own. "You're never going to do it, are you?" The door clicked closed behind him.

"You know, I've been doing this my entire life. I think I'm the best judge of who I should and shouldn't tell." Josh shot back.

Toby blinked, and then raised a hand, "This indecision of yours is your worst quality. You think if you hang back and keep quiet, the world is just going to ignore you? Mild-mannered Joshua Lyman, ignore the man behind the curtain, digging through your thoughts - "

"That's not - "

"What, you're afraid of Will Bailey? Or the Friends of Humanity? 'Cause I got news for you. You're the most powerful mutant in the country and when you sit back and play pretend - when you silence yourself, you let them win without even putting up a fight. Inaction is not a neutral response, it's appeasement. It's 1933, and they're going to come in the night for you, and then they're going to come for Donna."

"I don't know what more you think I'm responsible for doing, Toby. I work every day to make sure that doesn't happen. You want me to live up to the family name, write a manifesto and build a damn death ray?"

"It's called putting some skin into the game. Show some leadership. An appeal to the greater cause of enfranchisement, the idea that all people are invited to have a voice in their government and the only thing we have to fear is fear itself. We work in politics, and they shouldn't be ideals we just mouth in an election year." Toby countered, flattening all his anger. "Have you spoken with him?"

"No." Josh said, rubbing at his temple. Toby was loud, and it was giving him a headache. "I don't think White House staffers should be visiting criminals."

"Yeah?" Toby huffed. "What do you know now that you didn't know six months ago?"