When they entered the dining room, the buzz of conversation noticeably ebbed as faces turned in their direction, three of whom were Chunhua, Rachel, and Jason sitting together, along with Ralph.
“Might as well face the music right off,” said Jill.
When she got to the table, Jason stood up, looking contrite, and Chunhua started to speak.
Jill raised the hand not holding Bobby. “No, please, all of you. Today was a day to forget. I just panicked when I couldn’t find Bobby . . . and then . . . ,” She stopped talking and took a deep breath.
“Oh, Jill, I’m SO sorry,” said Chunhua. “We said we’d watch him and—”
Jill raised her hand again. “No. As I said. Let’s forget about today. No harm was done.”
Jason raced around the table and pulled out chairs for the three of them. Despite Jill’s trying to avoid mutual apologies, the next fifteen minutes were an orgy of them. Finally, it was Bobby who broke the mood.
“Mommy! I’m hungry!”
The remainder of the meal changed as if a switch had been thrown. The day’s events were never mentioned again, except when Kathy said Freddie was holed up in his room with Wilbur. Twice, Jill caught Zach staring her way from the other side of the room. She blushed both times, a reaction not unnoticed by Kathy. When the group broke up, Jill turned to Kathy.
“I feel strange asking this after today, but would you watch Bobby for a while?”
Kathy laughed. “Of course. And I promise not to pass him on to anyone else.”
“Thanks, Kathy. I assume Wilbur is still with Freddie. I’ll go see if there’s anything I can do to help. Zach was right. I shouldn’t have put all the blame on Freddie.”
An hour later, Jill found Kathy and Bobby in the library lounge, looking at picture books.
“I think I helped,” said Jill. “Freddie didn’t want to see me at first, but Wilbur got him to agree. I apologized profusely. Freddie immediately started crying, and I felt more like shit than I have in a long time. He was like a small child who thought he’d done something wrong but didn’t know what it was and was afraid.
“I cried too, and by the time I left, I think Freddie was pretty much back to normal. Well . . . for Freddie.”
First thing the next morning, Mueller called a Level 3 staff meeting. After making perfunctory comments about everyone being more aware when Bobby was around, he suggested strongly to Jill not to bring him into Level 3 unless necessary. Then Mueller made the observation that if the Object discriminated between mature and immature minds, maybe it was an avenue of investigation they needed to pursue.
One look at Jill’s face and Mueller hurried to say it was only a topic for future discussion.
CHAPTER 31
OBSERVED
Hiking Ellesmere
All Site 23 staff members were required to spend at least thirty minutes a day in the sun—assuming their duties allowed—or have thirty minutes of direct eye exposure to full-spectrum lights simulating sunlight. Both options stimulated vitamin D production. The human nervous system also responded to real and simulated sunlight by helping the individuals’ moods, particularly those subject to depression.
However, even the best artificial sunlight was not identical to natural sun exposure—somehow, the body and the mind knew the difference. For those staff members whose work kept them mainly indoors, Bre planned various activities from assisting with outdoor work to pursuits that were more socially connected. Many of the staff favored organized hikes in the surrounding terrain. The emptiness made it possible to walk at random, but humans wore recognizable paths wherever they lived. Willie likened them to game trails. Anyone could hike alone, but a requirement for solo hikes was that people log their departure and return and never be out of sight of the camp.
This day, Bre organized a group hike up one of the trails to the top of Baldy Ridge, a jagged spine of rock running north/south and rising five hundred feet above the site. The round trip usually took two hours, plus whatever time people needed for breaks, stopping to eat, or admiring the view from the top.
Today’s group of eighteen was larger than most times, with participants from all site levels. They straggled out along the switchback trail; some preferred trudging along with their own thoughts, while others clumped and chattered as they ascended the ridge. The participants’ relative positioning shifted such that the same person might be part of a small group, then solitary for a while, and then again in a group but of different composition. Bre, Kathy, Sandra Chu, and Jill gravitated to one another and had become, if not formally friends, at least a simpatico grouping.
Before leaving the site, Jill lathered both herself and Bobby with sunscreen, especially Bobby’s head, because he refused to wear head coverings. The midsummer sun was directly overhead, and crystal-clear air blocked none of its rays. Their fair complexions would severely burn without their taking precautions.
Jill could not hike any distance by herself because she had to carry Bobby. Today, she shared the tote duties with the other three women.
Bre, as usual, led the four of them, walking at least half of the time backward in order to participate in their conversations.
“First time I’ve seen Willie away from the site,” said Bre, looking at the hikers following their foursome.
Kathy glanced back and waved. Willie’s only acknowledgment was a slight twitch upward of one hand swinging by his side.
Bre laughed. “I think that’s Willie’s version of jumping up and down while waving both arms.”
“He’s just reserved around people,” said Kathy, with more than a hint of defensiveness in her voice. “You might not know it, but he’s about as expert in plants as anyone I’ve ever talked with.”
“Talked with?” said Jill, chuckling. “He talks to people? I’ve heard a few grunts when he comes into—” She broke off before saying more than she should—none of the other women were cleared for Level 3.
Kathy’s face became noticeably redder, even with the temperature hovering at a balmy 33 degrees. “You shouldn’t make catty comments about people you don’t know, Jill.”
“She didn’t mean anything,” said Bre, giving Jill a hard stare and nodding toward Kathy, who had looked away. Jill’s eyes widened in surprise after she received the message.
Something going on between those two? Jill mouthed to Bre. She would attempt to apologize later.
“Oh, look,” said Bre, eager to divert everyone’s attention. “We’re coming up on the tree stump Bjorn Nylander is always talking about, whether we want to hear about it or not.”
“Tree stump?” asked Jill. “There’re trees around here? I haven’t seen any.”
“And you won’t,” said Sandra. “I’ve heard Bjorn’s spiel enough times to know it by heart.” She cleared her throat and imitated a deeper voice.
“What you see here is the stump of a Metasequoia tree that grew on Ellesmere Island 55 million years ago and was thought to be extinct until a few groves were found in the Sichuan Mountains of China in 1944. Here you see only a single Metasequoia stump. Farther north and east of here, near the Stenkul and Strathcona Fiords, there are many more such fossil stumps and branches. In addition, the adjacent island west of Ellesmere, Axel Heiberg Island, contains fossils of hundreds of huge Metasequoia trees that grew closer together than their extant relatives do, the redwoods of California.”
“Don’t forget the coal deposits,” Manny Cardoza called out, walking thirty yards ahead.
“Yes, yes,” said Bre, as she picked up mimicking Nylander again. “Ellesmere’s immense coal deposits show the island had dense, subtropical forests 300 to 360 million years ago.”
“All right,” said Jill. “I’m guessing the climate must have been a lot warmer than it is now. I vaguely remember school lessons about the continents moving around. I saw the notice about Nylander giving a talk about fossils. I didn’t go, but maybe I will if he does it again.”
“Oh, he will,” said Sandra, laughing. “Or, if you h
ave a few extra hours, just sit with him at a meal and ask him to tell you about Ellesmere fossils.”
The next hiker behind them was Jeff Rotham, who heard Bre impersonate Nylander.
“Actually, Jill, I recommend attending one of Bjorn’s talks. They’re quite interesting. As for bracing him on your own, just tell him you’ve only got ten minutes, and he’ll cut off talking within seconds of that time. No idea how he does it, but it’s uncanny. Anyway, we shouldn’t make fun of him. He came here thinking he’d get a chance to study Inuit language and culture and found himself stuck here for the year he contracted and not an Inuit in sight.”
When they reached the top of the ridgeline, Site 23 lay below them. It was impressive, the structures blending in with the landscape. Beyond, the barren terrain alternated among stream valleys, hills, and low but rugged mountains.
A brisk wind whistled across the ridge top—too blustery for them to stop to eat the packed lunch made by Kathy and Sally Ingersoll. They descended into a depression a hundred feet lower, sheltered from the day’s wind before rising again fifty feet and sloping into the next valley. A small melt stream meandered through their picnic spot.
“Oh, my God!” exclaimed Sandra. “Real flowers. The first ones I’ve seen here.” Purple flowers on plants no more than six inches high made a striking contrast to the otherwise empty terrain.
“I wonder what they’re called?” said Kathy with a look to Willie.
“Purple saxifrage,” he said without looking their way. Jill suppressed a giggle and nudged Bre with an elbow.
They sat on smooth, flat rocks surrounded by purple clumps. Kathy orchestrated unpacking hot chili carried in insulated containers by Willie and Zach, with Manny carrying tin plates and spoons. Steam billowed from the chili when she opened the lids for serving.
“Mac and cheese?” asked Bobby.
“Sorry, Bobby,” said Kathy, “but it has cheese in it. You’ll like it.”
“Okay.”
Jill let Bobby roam among the hikers, talking a streak the entire time. Meanwhile, she helped Kathy finish serving, then took the last two plates and looked for places to sit. The only decent spaces left for two butts lay between Zach and Willie. Unfortunately, Kathy moved first and sat next to Willie, leaving Jill no choice, especially since her personal traitor, a.k.a. Bobby, now sat on Zach’s knee, happily spooning chili for Zach to blow on.
Sighing, Jill sat and resisted the temptation to move Bobby to her own lap. She discarded the impulse only out of fear he’d object, thereby drawing attention to her tacky move.
Kathy and Willie carried on a conversation about arctic plants, a topic Jill doubted her friend had any interest in. She and Zach never spoke while eating, but when Bre called out that it was time to head back, Zach rose and gestured an offer to take her empty plate.
“Thanks,” she said, and they shared a look for the first time. An amused expression softened his face. She flushed and looked away.
Packed and on their feet, Jeff led the way. Halfway back up to the top of Baldy Ridge, Zach overheard Samantha (Sam) Beauford, one of the radar technicians, tell Bre, “I thought we might run into Eddie today. He said he’d be checking again for fossils. I think he planned on going into the next valley over. He thought the slope farther east looked promising.”
Bre looked sharply at Zach and correctly interpreted his frown. Site protocol mandated that no one hiked alone out of sight of the base. She figured Zach would check the log as soon as they returned and likely talk with Eddie.
Dark Eyes
Three hundred yards from the hikers’ trail and twenty feet below the ridge top, two sets of eyes watched the hikers descend to Site 23. Tupilaq crouched with his eyes peeking above the rock protrusion behind which they had sporadically observed the American base. Their camp lay four miles away and within a mountain cleft—a cave with an entrance hidden until someone was twenty feet away. There, they had stashed large, heavy packs carried from the submarine whose launch left them on Ellesmere’s shore.
Amaruq watched the people hiking up the slope, but he also kept aware of Tupilaq. He retained the bad feeling he’d had about the Yupik the instant he’d set eyes on him. The submarine had picked Amaruq up on the coast of northern Cornwallis Island after he’d made his way there from Resolute’s Inuit settlement.
Until he’d gotten onto the submarine’s rubber launch, Amaruq had not known the identity of his paymasters these last few years. He was surprised they were Chinese, not Russian—not that he showed any emotion, which would give part of his power to the strangers.
One of the crew spoke English with him and directed him to the small cabin where he slept with the Yupik. During the four days while the submarine cautiously made its way to the western coast of Ellesmere Island, the two Eskimos, a Yupik and an Inuit, worked to establish rudimentary communication. That Tupilaq’s Yupik dialect was different from the one Amaruq knew placed limitations on the extent of any discourse. Even words for everyday objects were pronounced slightly different, but the basic structure was close enough that by the time they landed on Ellesmere, they could communicate enough for their purposes. Also, Amaruq knew a few words in Russian, and they worked out a crude patois.
When the submarine left them on Ellesmere, neither Eskimo bothered watching the rubber launch return to the submarine and be loaded aboard. The vessel moved toward the open ocean as it sank beneath the surface. They were there for a purpose. Amaruq led the way without speaking, as Tupilaq followed.
When they arrived in the American base’s vicinity, the night never impinged on the mid-summer sun’s illumination of the terrain. From a rocky slope two miles from the base, they began observations until they understood the activities’ daily cycle. Then they progressively moved closer during times of low activity, taking care to avoid the five armed men who periodically roamed the surrounding terrain.
Their final observation position lay only five hundred yards from the base, on a slope with jagged rock formations. After three weeks of watching, they had not seen a single person move on that part of the slope. They found a cavity where they could sleep if needed. Usually, only one of them stayed in their observation position at a time. The other man remained at the camp far enough from the Americans to make discovery unlikely. From the camp, the man, or men on occasion, hunted and trapped farther from the base.
As Tupilaq observed the hikers, Amaruq watched elsewhere. While the Yupik observed the Americans, they in turn were observed. Amaruq didn’t believe the Yupik realized a single wolf had trailed them ever since their arrival—always staying well away, slinking in the shadows where available and once coming within fifty yards.
Maybe they don’t have wolves where he comes from, thought Amaruq, or maybe he’s not as observant as he thinks he is. The last thought disquieted Amaruq. He didn’t like the Yupik. The man was arrogant, and Amaruq sensed an evil spirit hovered near or within the man. The sooner they parted, the better. A time would come when Amaruq would slip away and head south. Expanses of sea separated the islands, but he had made his way before under such conditions. He accepted that he could die in the attempt, but he’d always expected his life to end in such a manner. That he had lived this long surprised him. The Chinese payments over the years lay safely in an Inuit-run bank that didn’t ask questions about his periodic deposits. For all his preference for a solitary life away from other humans, he knew the time approached when he would need to leave behind the wandering life. When he abandoned Tupilaq, he would sever all connections to his paymasters and try to reach Inuit settlements to the southwest.
Too Late
Zach’s plan to further camouflage the site’s buildings from overhead surveillance was delayed while he waited for materials to be flown in. The first available flight was missed, due to other supplies having a higher priority in the full cargo. They came on the next flight, and Zach helped maintenance crews install additional protrusions to break up the building’s shadows.
Zach’s intuition
was correct but too late. Two days earlier, the latest Yaogan-30 surveillance satellite had launched from the Xichang Satellite Launch Centre in southwestern China. On the satellite’s seventh circuit in its polar orbit, it passed twenty miles east of Site 23—effectively directly overhead.
CHAPTER 32
LONG, LONG AGO AND NOT FAR AWAY
“I’m excited,” gushed Ralph as they prepared Zach for the next VR session with Simeon. “This is the first time Simeon will control the VR environment. I still have trouble getting my head around the computational resources he infers he can draw on. Even Harold is unsure exactly how Simeon is going to pull it off, but Simeon insists it’ll be no problem now that he understands our hardware well enough.”
“Sinclair wasn’t too happy to hear about this,” said Zach. “If the Object can do this, what else could it do, related to our computer systems? Hell . . . it’s technology is so far advanced over ours, there’s no way to be sure we’d detect what it’s doing.”
“Aw . . . you people are too suspicious. I’m convinced Simeon is benign at worst. I actually believe him when he keeps saying he wants to help humanity.”
Zach didn’t argue. People tended to be unmovable once they fixed on a belief. Besides, having optimists didn’t hurt as long as other people like Sinclair and himself covered the pessimist options.
As for the VR system, Zach was still learning. His brain didn’t respond as automatically as Ralph’s, but it did almost as well as Andrew’s. Simeon accepted each user’s limitations and worked with Ralph to adjust the simulation details. Most sessions stayed within the den or parlor setting. However, in the last few weeks, at Simeon’s encouragement, they had begun using other scenes such as an open field with mountains in the background, a tropical beach, and a city street. At first, the latter scenario had been empty of humans, but recently Ralph and Simeon introduced people and cars that didn’t interact with the users.
Harbinger (The Janus Harbinger Book 1) Page 41
