by Robin Cook
“I empathize with you,” Suzanne said. “Truly! And I feel responsible about the whole situation. And it is true we were abducted. But I don’t want to see any more deaths, nor do I want to see Interterra unwittingly destroyed. We’re ethically obligated to negotiate. These people are so peaceful.”
“Peaceful?” Richard questioned. “I’d say boring!”
“I can vouch for that,” Harvey said.
“Perry, this is Harvey Goldfarb,” Donald said.
Perry and Harvey shook hands.
“I don’t know what we’re supposed to negotiate,” Donald said. “Arak made it clear we’re here for good, no buts, ifs, or maybes. A statement like that precludes negotiation.”
“I think we should let a little more time pass,” Suzanne said. “What’s wrong with that? Maybe we will change our minds, or maybe we’ll be able to convince them to alter theirs. We’ve got to remember that we’ve all brought down here our personalities and psychological baggage geared to the world above, plus we’re so accustomed to seeing ourselves as the ‘good guys’ that it’s difficult to realize when we are the monsters.”
“I don’t feel like a monster,” Perry said. “I don’t belong here.”
“Me neither,” Michael said.
“Let me make another point,” Suzanne said. “For the sake of argument, let’s say we manage to get out of here. What happens then? Do we reveal Interterra’s existence?”
“It will be hard not to,” Donald said. “Where would we say we’ve been for the last month or however long it’s been?”
“And what about me?” Harvey said. “I’ve been here for almost ninety years.”
“That’s even harder to explain,” Donald agreed.
“We’d also have to have some explanation where we got all the gold and armor,” Richard said. “ ’Cause this stuff’s going with me.”
“And what about the economic possibilities of our serving as intermediaries?” Perry said. “We could help both sides and end up millionaires many times over. Just the wrist communicators alone will cause a technological sensation.”
“I rest my case,” Suzanne said. “One way or the other we’d be exposing Interterra. Stop and think about our civilization and its exploitive greed. We don’t like to think of ourselves in that light, but it’s true. We are selfish, both as individuals and as nations. There’d be a confrontation without doubt, and as advanced as the Interterran civilization is, with power and weapons we cannot even imagine, it will be a disaster, maybe even the end of the world as far as secondary humans are concerned.”
For several minutes no one spoke.
“I don’t care about all that crap,” Richard said suddenly, breaking the silence. “I want out of here.”
“No question,” Michael chimed in.
“Me, too,” Perry said.
“Ditto,” Donald said. “Once we’re out, we can negotiate with these Interterrans. At least at that point it will be a real negotiation without them dictating to us.”
“What about you, Harvey?” Perry asked.
“I’ve been dreaming about getting out for years,” Harvey said.
“It’s decided, then,” Donald said. “We’re going!”
“Not me,” Suzanne said. “I don’t want any more deaths on my conscience. Maybe it’s because I don’t have any immediate family, but I’m willing to give Interterra a chance. I know I’ve got a lot of adjusting to do, but I like paradise. It’s worth a bit of self-examination.”
“I’m sorry, Suzanne,” Donald said, staring her in the eye. “If we go, you go. Your high moral standards are not going to screw up our plan.”
“What are you going to do, force me to go?” Suzanne demanded irritably.
“Absolutely,” Donald said. “Let me remind you, field commanders have been known to shoot their own men if the men’s behavior threatens to compromise an operation.”
Suzanne didn’t respond. Instead she slowly looked around at the others in the room. Her expression was blank. No one made a motion in her defense.
“Let’s get back to business,” Donald said finally. “Did you get the Luger?”
“We did,” Perry reported. “It was hard to find, but we managed.”
“Let me see it,” Donald said.
As Perry took the pistol out of his tunic pocket, Suzanne bolted from the room. Richard was the first to respond. Dropping what he had in his hands, and disregarding the armor he was wearing, he raced out into the night after her. Thanks to his superb physical shape he was able to close the gap quickly and managed to get hold of Suzanne’s wrist. He pulled her to a stop. Both were panting.
“You’re playing into Donald’s hands,” Richard managed to say between breaths.
“As if I care,” Suzanne replied. “Let me go!”
“He’ll shoot you,” Richard said. “He loves playing this military crap. I’m warning you.”
Suzanne struggled for a moment in an attempt to free herself, but it was soon clear that Richard was not about to let her go. The others arrived and gathered round. Donald was holding the Luger.
“You’re forcing me to act,” Donald said menacingly.
“I hope you realize that.”
“Who is forcing whom?” Suzanne asked scornfully.
“Bring her back inside!” Donald said. “We have to resolve this once and for all.” He started back toward the cottage. The others followed with Richard maintaining an iron grip on Suzanne’s wrist. She tried briefly to struggle but quickly became resigned to be dragged back toward her room.
“Bring her in and sit her down,” Donald called over his shoulder as the group rounded the pool.
Coming into the light Richard noticed how blue Suzanne’s hand had become. Concerned about her circulation, he loosened his hold. The instant he did, she yanked herself free and straight-armed him with a resounding thump in the center of his chest. Caught off guard, Richard toppled into the deep end of the pool. Suzanne bolted back out into the night.
With the heavy armor dragging him under the surface, Richard floundered despite his being a powerful and accomplished swimmer. Donald tossed the pistol onto one of the contour chairs and dove into the water. Perry and Michael did what they could from the pool’s edge until they realized that Suzanne had escaped yet again.
“Get her!” Perry cried. “I’ll help here.”
Michael took off and the effort expended gave him unqualified respect for the famed hoplites of old, and he wondered how those ancient warriors had managed considering the weight of their armor. He found the breastplate particularly difficult to run in although the heavy helmet and greaves did not help either. Once clear of the cone of light emanating from the interior, he clanked to a halt. Without being dark adapted he was blinded by the darkness. Suzanne was nowhere to be seen although she’d had only a minute or so head start.
As the minutes ticked by and his eyes adjusted, details of the scene emerged from the gloom but still no Suzanne. Then, sudden movement and a startling patch of bright light off to his right got his attention. When he looked his heart leaped. It was an air taxi that had arrived and opened some fifty yards away in the vicinity of the dining hall.
Michael took off running again with his strong legs pumping. As he rapidly closed on the craft, he knew it was going to be close. Ahead he could see Suzanne clamber aboard and throw herself onto the banquette with her right hand palm down on the central table.
“No!” Michael yelled as he launched himself at the taxi’s port. But he was too late. What had been an opening only moments earlier was now the seamless cowling of the air taxi. Michael collided against it and ricocheted off with the clang of metal against metal. The collision knocked him to the ground and the helmet from his head. In the next instant the air taxi ascended with a whoosh, leaving Michael momentarily weightless in its wake. Like a helium balloon he floated free from the ground for almost a foot before falling back like a dead weight.
The second collision knocked the wind out of him. He
writhed on the ground. When he managed to catch his breath, he scrambled to his feet and made his way back to the cottage. By then, the others had gotten the sodden Richard into one of the contour chairs, where he was coughing deeply.
Donald looked up as Michael charged in. “Where the hell is she?”
“She got away in an air taxi!” Michael gasped.
“You let her get away?” Donald cried. He stood up from where he was squatting next to Richard. He was incensed.
“I couldn’t stop her,” Michael said. “She must have called the damn taxi the second she left here.”
“Christ!” Donald said. He put a hand to his forehead and shook his head. “Such incompetence! I can’t believe it!”
“Hey, I did what I could,” Michael complained.
“Let’s not argue,” Perry chimed in.
“Shit!” Donald shouted as he stormed around in a circle.
“I should have decked her,” Richard choked.
Donald stopped his angry pacing. “We’ve hardly started this operation, and we’ve already got a crisis. There’s no telling what she’ll do. We’ve got to move and move fast! Michael, you get your ass back to the Oceanus and don’t let anyone near it!”
“Roger!” Michael said. He grabbed his crossbow and quiver and darted back out into the night.
“We need hostages and we need them fast,” Donald said.
“What about Arak and Sufa?” Perry said.
“They’d be perfect,” Donald said. “Let’s call them over here and hope Suzanne hasn’t talked to them first. We’ll have them come to the dining hall.”
“What about Ismael and Mary Black?” Perry suggested.
“The more the better,” Harvey said.
“Fine,” Donald said. “We’ll call them, too. But that’s all the room we have in the Oceanus.”
Suzanne’s pulse was racing. She’d never felt such anxiety. She knew she was lucky to have gotten away from the group and couldn’t help wondering what would have happened had she not been able to. She shuddered. They seemed to have become strangers, even enemies in their single-mindedness to escape and their concomitant willingness to murder.
Despite what she’d said on the spur of the moment back in her cottage, she wasn’t sure how she felt about anything other than her abhorrence at the idea of being a party to more death. Yet despite her confusion, in order to flee by air taxi she’d had to come up with a destination quickly to get the craft to seal. The first place that had come to her mind was the black pyramid and the Council of Elders.
By the time the air taxi deposited Suzanne at her destination, she was more composed. The transit time had given her an opportunity to think more rationally. She reasoned that the Council of Elders more than anyone should know how to handle the crisis quickly and without injury to anyone.
As she mounted the causeway leading to the pyramid she noticed the entire area was deserted. As a major Interterran governmental center, she’d assumed there would be people available twenty-four hours a day. But this hardly seemed to be the case even after she’d entered the gigantic structure.
Suzanne walked down the gleaming white marble corridor. She saw no one. Approaching the huge, paneled bronze doors, she began to wonder what she should do. Knocking seemed ridiculous given the scale of the surroundings. But she need not have been concerned. The doors opened automatically just as they had that morning.
Walking into the circular colonnaded room beyond, Suzanne advanced to the center and stopped in the same place she’d stood that morning. She looked around at the empty chamber, wondering what to do next.
The silence was complete.
“Hello!” Suzanne called. When there was no answer she called again, louder. Then she called out again, this time at the top of her lungs. Thanks to the dome, she heard her voice echo clearly.
“Can I be of assistance?” a young girl’s voice asked calmly.
Suzanne turned. Behind her, framed in the huge portal, was Ala. Her fine blond hair was in disarray, as if she’d just been pulled from her bed.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Suzanne said. “I’ve come because of an emergency. You must stop my fellow secondary humans. They are about to attempt an escape, and if they do, the secret of Interterra will be lost.”
“Escape is difficult from Interterra,” Ala said. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. It was a gesture so childlike that Suzanne had to remind herself she was dealing with an individual of extraordinary intelligence and experience.
“They plan to use the submersible we arrived in,” Suzanne said. “It is at the Earth Surface Museum.”
“I see,” Ala said. “It would still be difficult, but perhaps it would be best if I send some worker clones to incapacitate the vessel. I will also call the Council for an emergency session. I trust you will be willing to stay and confer with us.”
“Of course,” Suzanne said. “I want very much to help.” She thought about bringing up the tragic deaths that had already occurred but decided there would be time for that later.
“This is an unexpected and disturbing development,” Ala said. “Why have your friends decided to try to escape?”
“They say because of their families and because they have not been given a choice. But they are a very varied group, and there are other issues as well.”
“It sounds as if they don’t yet realize how very lucky they are.”
“I think that’s fair to say,” Suzanne agreed.
An air taxi settled down and opened in the dark and deeply shadowed museum courtyard. Two heavily muscled worker clones disembarked. Both carried sledgehammers, but only one set out for the Benthic Marine submersible. The other kept the air taxi from leaving by maintaining a grip on the edge of the taxi’s opening port.
The first worker clone wasted no time. Reaching the submersible he went directly to the housing for the main battery pack. With practiced hands he opened the fiberglass access panel to expose the main power connector. Then, stepping back, he raised the sledge over his head in preparation of rendering the unit inoperable.
But the heavy hammer did not come down in its normal arc. Instead it slipped from the clone’s hands and fell to the ground with a thud the moment a crossbow bolt pierced the clone’s throat. With a gasping sound he staggered back, clawing at the imbedded missile. A mixture of blood and a clear fluid like mineral oil gushed forth, drenching his black coveralls. After a few awkward steps, the clone toppled over onto his back. Several twitches later, he was still.
Michael cranked the crossbow drawstring back and positioned another bolt. Thus armed he stood up from his hiding place alongside the museum wall and cautiously approached the downed clone. Michael had neither seem nor heard the air taxi: it had landed just out of sight. He felt lucky he’d looked back at the submersible the moment he did, for he had been dozing on and off despite his efforts to stay alert.
Keeping the crossbow trained on the clone, Michael reached out with his right foot and gave the body a kick. The clone didn’t respond although there was another small surge of blood and fluid from the through-and-through neck wound.
Taking one hand away from the crossbow to give himself better balance, Michael gave the body one last, good kick to make sure there was no question about its status. To his shock, the crossbow was ripped out of his hand.
Startled, Michael whirled around to find himself facing a second clone, who’d tossed the crossbow aside and was raising a sledgehammer over his head. Michael instinctively put his hands up although he knew it would be no defense against the coming blow. Back peddling he tripped over the fallen clone and fell across the downed worker, losing his helmet in the process.
Michael desperately rolled to the side as the hammer came down with jarring force, crunching the already incapacitated clone. As the second clone regained his balance and retracted his weapon for another blow, Michael pushed himself up on one knee and drew his Greek short sword. As the clone again lifted the sledge over his head, expos
ing his abdomen, Michael lunged forward. With Michael’s full weight behind the thrust the sword buried itself to its hilt. A mixture of blood and clear oil gushed onto Michael’s chest.
The startled clone dropped the sledge and grabbed Michael’s head with his two hands. Michael felt himself being lifted off the ground. But it didn’t last. The inordinate strength of the clone ebbed, and he toppled over, dragging Michael with him.
It took almost five minutes for the worker clone’s grip around Michael’s head to relax enough for Michael to extract himself. As he got to his feet he shuddered through a wave of nausea at the smell of the fluid leaking out of the two downed clones. It was like a combination of a slaughter house and an auto repair shop.
Michael retrieved the crossbow. He had new respect for the danger the clones represented. He’d been surprised the second clone had attacked him, and he reasoned that they must have been given some blanket order. The episode also underlined the fact that the clones had no trouble with violence, just as Harv had warned.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Maybe we should have pulled this off after dinner,” Richard said. “I’m starved.”
“This is no time for humor,” Perry said.
“Who’s making a joke?” Richard said.
“This must be them,” Harvey called from the door, where Donald had ordered him to stay as a lookout. “An air taxi has just dropped down outside.”
The group was in the dining room waiting for Arak, Sufa, and the Blacks.
“All right, troops,” Donald said. “This is it. Let’s be prepared.”
Richard picked up one of the Greek swords. After his dunk in the pool he’d dispensed with the armor. Donald removed the clip from the Luger for the twentieth time, checked it, and replaced it. He made sure a cartridge was in the firing chamber.
Arak, Sufa, the Blacks, and four large worker clones swept into the room.
“Okay,” Arak said, slightly out of breath. “Everything is going to be fine, so please just relax.”
According to plan, Harvey pushed the door closed with a resounding thud. Arak ignored the noise. Harvey walked around the periphery of the room. Along with Perry and Richard he stood behind Donald.
