Lee glanced at the phone. “What about the others?”
“No scanning or attacks that I can detect. As far as I know, mine is the only one being traced. But why?”
“This might sound stupid, but maybe they have the wrong number. I mean, maybe it used to belong to someone else.”
“Anything’s possible,” Borger said, turning to Lee. “But the tools they’d need to be using to find this phone is more than what most computer experts have. We’re talking about accessing multiple, highly protected networks.” He slowly turned the phone over in his hands. “If it’s a wrong number, it would be one hell of a coincidence.”
“Okay,” Lee replied. “Then let’s assume the worst. If they are targeting you, it would probably make sense. After all, you are kind of a cornerstone in our group. I mean you know more about this stuff than most of us put together.”
“True.”
“And if whoever they are knows that, then they may not just be looking for you. Maybe they’re looking for all of us? Through you.”
Now Borger’s expression froze. Was that true? Was someone not just trying to find him but their entire team? If so, cracking Borger’s phone could allow them to trace things back to all of them, including Admiral Langford and Defense Secretary Miller.
Borger was growing increasingly nervous. He’d wiped data from whole systems to keep them secret. But what if he had missed something? He pushed back against the seat’s headrest, contemplating the ramifications. If someone had managed to identify him, enough to specifically target his phone, they could eventually identify the others. And if they did, would it also provide enough information to track them all retroactively? It was something Borger had himself done with General Wei in China––using cell towers to roll back the clock and figure out exactly where Wei had been. Which meant someone else might be able to do the same thing to retrace the steps of Borger’s entire team.
48
Admiral Langford’s large hands were flat on each side of the speakerphone as he sat hunched over, staring at it with an expression bordering on bewilderment. He lifted his gaze to Miller, whose expression appeared just as stunned.
“You want to do what?”
Alison Shaw’s voice came through the speaker. There was a slight tremble in her voice. On the other end of the phone, she stared at Chris Ramirez nervously. “I need to cash in my favor, Admiral.”
“Ms. Shaw,” the Admiral replied dryly, “you do understand what we’re up against here. And how hard we are trying to keep this whole thing from completely unraveling.”
“Yes, sir. I do. And I’m sorry.”
Langford shook his head. “You still there, Clay?”
“Yes, Admiral.”
“Please tell me you didn’t have anything to do with this.”
On the other end, on his own phone and sitting across from an amused Steve Caesare, Clay tilted his head while he answered. “Uh…a little.”
He glared at Caesare who was grinning as he listened.
Langford shook his head.
“I know it doesn’t sound like it, Admiral,” Alison said quickly. “But I think this is important. I think the dolphins are holding something back. Perhaps until we help them with this.”
“And what do you think they’re holding back, Doctor?” asked Miller.
“We’re not sure. But they’re having conversations far enough away from us that our system cannot translate. Things which may not be meant for us to hear.”
Langford shrugged wearily at the phone. “Great. Now we have the dolphins plotting against us.”
“I still don’t understand why we even care right now.”
“Well, Mr. Secretary, for starters, these dolphins have given us a heck of a lot of help over the last year, including showing us where this alien ship was buried. Not to mention alerting us to the fact that Lieutenant Tay had survived.”
“And you’re suggesting this cooperation from them is going to end?”
“I think it could,” she replied. “I’m worried they’re starting to doubt our intentions.”
“What intentions?” Miller shot back. “We haven’t promised them anything.”
“Well, not technically. No. But until now we’ve had a pretty reciprocal relationship. And they’re not stupid. They’re now expecting us to help them with something they want. Don’t forget, they were the ones who told us about Palin’s people in the first place.”
“Jesus.” Miller threw up his hands and stared at Langford. “Now the damn fish are holding us hostage.”
“Mammals.”
“Whatever.”
“Sir,” replied Clay. “Alison is not suggesting this has to happen immediately.”
“That’s right,” she agreed. “This is not imminent. But I think we need to convey that we will help them. And it sounds like you two may be the only ones who can ultimately make that happen.”
The two older men stared at each other for a long time.
“Admiral?”
“Fine,” Langford finally breathed. “Fine. Tell them we’ll do it. But not until we get Tay out of there. There’s an awful lot that can go wrong.”
“Yes, Admiral. I will tell them. Thank you.”
Langford, still frowning, almost barked his next question. “Where’s Caesare?”
It was Clay’s turn to grin when Steve Caesare abruptly leaned forward in surprise, dropping his feet from the table. “I’m here, Admiral.”
“Get your things together. Your presence has been requested on the Pathfinder by Captain Emerson.”
“Now?”
“No, Commander. Someday. When you have nothing else to do.”
“Well, that sounds good to me, Admiral.”
“I bet. Now get moving. Emerson’s crew is down to only two experienced deep-water divers, and it looks as though things may get a little dicey with the rescue attempt. We’ve got a chopper en route to pick you up in Couva. At an airstrip just north of you.”
“Yes, sir.”
Merl Miller leaned forward. “Doctor Shaw, is there anything else from your end?”
“Uh, no. Sir. That’s it. Thank you.”
“Very well. Please disconnect.”
There was a short pause, followed by a clicking sound as Alison hung up.
“Commander Caesare, there is another matter,” Miller said. “I want you to talk to Commander Lawton, if you haven’t already, and find out where on the ship she hid her bacterium samples. When you get aboard, I want you to find them and secure them. Immediately. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir. Perfectly.”
Langford noticed the light flash on the phone’s second line and held up a hand. “Gentlemen, one moment.” He pressed a button and listened. “Yes?”
“Admiral, I have another incoming call for you. From Will Borger. He says it’s urgent.”
“Fine. Put him through.”
Langford merged the calls just before Borger spoke. “Can you hear me, Admiral?”
“Yes, Will. I can. I’m here with Secretary Miller. Clay and Caesare are also on.”
“Anyone else?”
“No.”
“Hey, Will. What’s shakin?”
“Not much. We just landed in Nassau.”
Caesare smiled. “That poor flight attendant.”
“Hey, I’m getting better.”
Langford lowered himself into a padded black chair. “Enough humor, gentlemen. What do you have?”
“I’m afraid we have a bit of a situation, Admiral.”
“What kind of situation?”
Borger took a step closer to one of the giant floor-to-ceiling windows and peered out, watching several airport workmen below him unload luggage. Behind him, Lee studied a long line of passengers nearby, all waiting to buy food on the far side of the tiny terminal.
“Someone’s trying to track me.”
Langford frowned. “What?”
“Someone has identified my phone, Admiral, and is trying to identify my location.”
“Who?”
“I’m not sure. At least not yet.”
“Will they be able to find you?” Miller asked from under his heavy brow.
“Probably. Given enough time.”
Clay spoke up. “Which means that if they know about Will, they may know about the rest of us. Or they’ll eventually find out.”
“Exactly,” answered Borger. “I deleted every record I could. But it’s conceivable that whoever this is could piece enough together to start making some connections. Right up through you and the Secretary, Admiral. And, sir, if they find me, that could also mean pinpointing my location aboard the Pathfinder once I get there.”
“And if that happens,” Langford replied, leaning over the table, “we might as well just raise a giant flag that says, look at us.”
Miller frowned. “Why not just get a new phone?”
“These are not regular phones, sir,” Borger replied. “Procuring and hardening a new one will take time. Until then, I think it’s a bad idea for me to go out to the Pathfinder with Lee.”
“Agreed.”
“To be safe, I probably shouldn’t go much further south than Puerto Rico. My location there shouldn’t be much of a surprise, and I can find a place to hunker down and try to find out who this is, while still providing help remotely to Captain Emerson’s crew.”
“Is there anyone else being tracked?” Miller asked.
“Not that I can see.”
“Okay. Kenwood, get yourself to Trinidad and let us know the minute you land. Borger, find a place to hide out, someplace where you can maintain constant contact with Emerson and his ship. Something tells me this is just beginning.”
***
When the call ended, Miller leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. He and Langford shared the same weary expression.
“Who do you think it is?”
Langford shrugged. “Could be damn near anyone. Chinese. Russians. Or maybe someone new who’s found enough clues.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Or worse, someone we’ve even given those clues to. And more.”
Langford stared back at him. “You mean domestic.”
“Let’s hope not.” Miller maintained eye contact before dropping his eyes to the table, where he studied his hand and turned it over. “It’s times like these that I wish we had never discovered that damn ship. Or any of this. Beginning with those people hiding on the bottom of the ocean.”
49
Bright flames from the fire painted everything inside of thirty feet with a soft orange glow––large rocks, a few wooden stumps, and an almost complete circular curtain of thick vegetation. Overhead the rising warmth faded, giving way to the cool night air. And higher still, a sky littered with bright glimmering stars.
Outlines of scattered gray clouds could still be seen in the distance and those, together with the moist ground, were all that remained of an early evening rainstorm.
DeeAnn Draper sat on one of the damp logs, warmed by the fire, and watched Dulce play with something between her long dark fingers. The small gorilla studied the substance curiously, placing her hands together and then parting them again. She continued doing it repeatedly, each time appearing just as curious as before.
Ronin sat on a wide boulder several feet away, also watching. “What is that?”
DeeAnn couldn’t decide whether to grin or shake her head. “Honey,” she answered. “She must have found a hive nearby.”
DeeAnn glanced over to the smaller capuchin monkey just a foot or two away, studying the gorilla intently.
The two adult humans watched for a while longer before DeeAnn finally chuckled. “Dulce, what are you trying to do?”
The gorilla peered up at her with large hazel eyes. Off.
“Honey doesn’t come off easily. You’re better off licking them clean.”
There was a short buzz from DeeAnn’s vest, signaling an incomplete translation, but Dulce stared at her thoughtfully, as if she understood. She surprised DeeAnn by raising one hand and extending her large pink tongue until it touched the first finger.
Her eyes instantly widened.
“It’s good. Like an apple. Sweet.”
Dulce licked again, this time more excitedly. No apple. More good!
DeeAnn continued smiling and turned to Ronin. “It was inevitable. She’s discovered sugar.”
Dulce’s finger-licking accelerated. When she began going from finger to finger, Dexter took a hesitant step forward. Carefully, he reached forward and sniffed one of Dulce’s fingers.
Ronin watched with fascination while DeeAnn studied the tiny capuchin. “The small one seems curious. And intelligent.”
“Very.” She was softly illuminated in the glow of the firelight. “He’s extremely intelligent. And his movements…are even more human-like.”
“He is special?”
DeeAnn smiled. “They both are. But yes, Dexter is special in his likeness to us. A little less monkey and slightly more human. And he’s not the only one. I saw troops of them in South America.” She continued without looking away from the pair. “He’s very similar to what we consider an ancestor of our distant past. A different kind of ape that gave rise to humans. What we call our missing link. Dexter is a modern-day version of that. A result of the green liquid we found in that strange vault. Or should I say vaults? The same liquid that may have also created the missing link in our evolution eons ago.”
Ronin watched Dexter scrape some honey from Dulce’s hand with his tiny fingers. “And you plan to study him?”
“Yes. He could teach us a lot about how we came to be. How long it took. The stages we went through. And maybe even some of the things we learned first.”
“Yes,” Ronin said, nodding. “Our scientists did much the same.”
DeeAnn turned back to him. “I assume you have a lot of animals on your planet too.”
“We used to but not anymore. Not after the events. The asteroids. We now have only a small number. They struggle to survive just like us.”
“Can’t you help them?”
“We try, but we are also struggling to save ourselves––and there are not many of us left.”
Surprised by his response, DeeAnn frowned, almost apologetically.
“But our scientists came to believe the same as yours. About how we began. Our…” He stopped and nodded to the animals. “What do you call them again?”
“Primates.”
“Our primates look different but are still very similar. Some are smarter even than these.”
“How much smarter?”
Ronin shrugged. “Some can speak a few of our words.”
“Really?!”
“Yes. They are very limited, but it has given rise to many debates over how they are treated. But that was a long time ago.”
DeeAnn was fascinated. “What other kinds of animals do you have? I mean did you have?”
“Mostly four legs, like many of yours here. They were different, of course. Most were smaller on average. We did, however, have some that were very large. Even some that could fly, like your birds. But most of those are gone now. Of the animals that survived, the majority are very small. Good at hiding in small spaces, or those that don’t require much food.” His eyes moved from DeeAnn back to the primates. “Some of our scientists claim we did not understand how important our primates and the other animals were to our world until they were destroyed.”
DeeAnn shrugged. “If it’s any consolation, it’s a challenge we also share.”
“What is consolation?”
“It means if it helps.”
“I see.” Ronin considered her words. “I do not understand how that would help.”
His literal interpretation made DeeAnn smile. “Never mind. It’s not important. Tell me more about your people. How are they coping?”
Ronin raised an eyebrow.
“I mean how are they managing? How are they continuing?”
“We are all working hard. But li
fe is difficult. The consequences of the impacts were greater than anyone expected. Worse than we feared. Our world’s environment changed faster than we could adjust.”
“You told me your people’s differences died after the impacts.”
Ronin turned toward the fire. He studied the flames before him, made livelier by occasional loud pops from the wood. “Most differences, yes. But not all. We are of the same goal, which is to survive. But some disagree on the best path forward.”
“What does that mean?”
“Many blame our government. What is left of it. For not paying enough attention before the events. For not making the safety of our planet their highest priority. And they argue that no one could have known. That there were only so many resources available. Others, like I, see the arguments as pointless. History is always clearer after it has occurred.”
Hindsight, DeeAnn nodded.
“Now a newer, younger government is fighting for power. Not over the people but over how we are to survive.”
“How you survive?”
“They argue that we should leave our home planet. That saving it is too difficult. An impossibility given how much damage has taken place. While the older generations insist we should stop at nothing to save our home.”
DeeAnn tilted her head. “Where would you go?”
“We have other planets in our system, like you. One of which we already have a small presence on. Most of the water is ice, but we’ve already begun growing food there. Those that want to leave claim that adapting is faster than repairing.”
“What do you think?”
Ronin looked at DeeAnn with a slight look of confusion. “It doesn’t matter what I think. I’m a soldier, not a scientist or an academic. My role is not to decide. My role is to carry out whatever decision is made. And those still in power, say we are to rebuild.”
50
One of the men still in power was standing in a large cavity carved from solid granite, atop one of Rwanda’s highest mountains. Bright lights inside the crater reflected off the dense rock around him, producing a pinkish hue influenced by the hardened quartz and feldspar.
Mosaic (Breakthrough Book 5) Page 17
