Snow hammered Washington like artillery shrapnel softened into water.
Heavy. Relentless. Accumulating on marble and granite until the city looked less like a capital and more like a mausoleum dedicated to a nation trying to convince itself it was still alive.
Inside the Capitol, in a windowless committee chamber beneath the west wing, a dozen men sat in rigid silence.
Governors, senators, senior officials who once carried themselves like the United States meant something immutable.
Tonight they looked like men attending the reading of a will. A will for a country not yet officially dead.
Senator William Carter of Virginia finally broke the silence.
"Let us begin," he said quietly, "with the President's continued diversion of resources. The… initiative."
No one used the official title anymore, they all feared it would make the lie too real.
Governor McKenna of Colorado opened the folder in front of him.
