“That makes two of us,” he said, his rage giving way to guilt.
“Will you forgive me, George?”
“We’re both guilty of the same crime. I will forgive you if you forgive me.”
Sara put her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I forgive you.”
“On second thought, I don’t have to forgive you, Sah.” He kissed her, caressing her cheeks with the back of his hands. “You did nothing wrong. For a long time, I jumped into conclusions and thought the worst of you. You only returned the favor.”
“I was wrong not to ask you about Kayla.”
“In that case, I forgive you.”
They remained in each other’s arms. Now the danger that menaced them seemed graver. They had just found each other again but they could soon lose each other to bullets of assassins.
“I can’t let them kill you, Sah,” George declared. “I can’t let them take you away from me. I lost you once… I’m not going to lose you again.”
“We need help, George. We can’t fight this war alone. Who will help us?”
“It would help if we knew who was against us. Apart from NASA, five of the six privately owned space satellite imagery companies involved are American, which makes me think that your enemies are American.”
“Some of them are probably in law enforcement agencies and in the Cabinet. Who can we trust?”
“I have an idea,” George said. “We should go back to DC right now. That’s the only way.”
“But my enemies might see me if I return to DC so soon.”
“They won’t see you. I have a plan. Get ready. We’re going back to DC right now.”
Chapter Four
Captain First Grade Satini Sopoaga relaxed in his cubicle, thinking about home in between fantasizing about Nuate’s boobs. His phone rang when he was about to replay the pornographic film that he always watched when he fantasized about Nuate. He quickly answered the call when he saw the words Vice Adm Frankson flashing on the phone’s screen.
“Captain Sopoaga speaking, sir.”
“Come to my office ASAP.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sopoaga wistfully looked at the TV. He was on leave and had planned to watch porn and fantasize about Nuate for the rest of the day without disturbance.
When he entered the vice admiral’s office, he found the base commander sitting behind his desk, sipping a cup of real coffee. Sopoaga’s mouth watered when the smell of coffee reached his nostrils. This was the first time he had seen someone having coffee since he left home.
He saluted. “Captain First Grade Sopoaga reporting as ordered, sir.”
“At ease, Captain First Grade,” Vice Admiral Frankson said. “Take a seat.”
Sopoaga took the seat opposite the vice admiral.
“Sopoaga, the admiralty is pleased with your work.” He sipped his coffee. “You have been duly promoted to the rank of one-star rear admiral.”
“Thank you, sir,” Sopoaga said calmly. He was more interested in being reunited with his family than in getting promoted.
Frankson removed Sopoaga’s old rank insignia and replaced it with the insignia of his new rank. “Congratulations, Rear Admiral Sopoaga.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Our space force is growing. Your fleet has been doubled in size. The admiralty wants to speed up the milking process. And starting from your next mission, all milkmaids shall be armed with missiles. In addition to that, the milkmaids will be escorted by fighter ships. You shall have five Vanquishers in your fleet. This time the milkmaids won’t carry messenger drones, they will carry combat drones. Each milkmaid will carry two combat drones. The combat drones can also double as messenger drones if need arises.”
Sopoaga’s face remained impassive but his heart raced with fear. Missiles, fighter ships and combat drones, he thought. He had taken part in many war games on E Utopia during his training but he was not mentally prepared for war. He had hoped that he would never be required to use his military training in actual war. “Are we going to face resistance from Earth’s powers?”
“The weapons are only a precautionary measure,” Frankson said. “You’re now milking at a lower altitude because of the sparseness of oxygen in the Earth’s atmosphere and that puts you in greater risk of detection by radars, aircraft and naval ships. You’ll need to be able to defend yourself if something happens. We can’t let the Earth’s powers capture one of our ships because if that happens, they’ll be able to follow us all the way to E Utopia.”
“So you haven’t received intelligence that points to resistance from Earth’s powers?”
“No,” the vice admiral said firmly.
Sopoaga sighed with relief. The last thing he wanted was a shooting war with the Earth’s powers. The E Utopia pioneers wouldn’t stand a chance against a coalition comprising the US, Russia, China, the UK and France. Sopoaga was sure that the Earth’s superpowers could quickly establish a space force to fight E Utopians. If war broke out between the Earth’s powers and E Utopians, it would be impossible to evacuate his family from Earth.
“You’re going to change your milking point during your next mission. You’ll get the new coordinates from Eureka Station.”
“Did the Earth’s powers discover our usual milking point, sir?”
“No, Sopoaga. It’s just a precautionary measure. You’re dismissed.”
Sopoaga sprang to his feet and saluted before he marched toward the door.
“Sopoaga!” the vice admiral shouted before the rear admiral reached the door.
“Sir!”
“Come back.”
Sopoaga walked back and stood at attention.
“Find me Captain Second Grade Hyvönen, Captain Bera, Commander Nuate, Commander Tulaga, Commander Gbooko, and Commander Bakaane, Commander Tarotu and Commander Kpuine. I want them on the double. I want to have a quick word with them. They have all been promoted.”
Sopoaga’s heart sank. He had known that one day Nuate would be promoted and given her own ship but he didn’t think it would happen so soon. He consoled himself with the fact that he could still fantasize about her even when he hardly saw her in flesh.
He was glad that Tulaga, his fellow Tuvaluan, had been promoted. All six of the promoted commanders from Harvesting Fleet 4 were either Polynesians or Niger Deltans. One of the two promoted captains of HF4 was from the Niger Delta. Polynesians and natives of the Niger Delta were the most committed members of the E Utopian force. The total disregard that Earth’s polluters had for the natural environment and the well-being of the Pacific Islands and the Niger Delta had turned E Utopian pioneers from these regions into fervent believers in the E Utopian cause.
“Who will be my new first officer, sir?”
“We have promoted some astrogators to the rank of Commander. Because of your seniority, I’ll give you the privilege to choose your XO. I will give you the full list of your new and promoted charges and you’ll have a meeting with them in the mess. You’re dismissed.”
Sopoaga saluted and marched out of the vice admiral’s office, asking himself why the admiralty wanted the ships to carry missiles if they were not anticipating war with Earth’s superpowers.
* * *
Sara and George had a quick snack before they bade Uncle Martin farewell.
“Drive carefully, George,” the old man said. “Don’t forget that you’re carrying human cargo in the trunk.”
“Don’t worry, Uncle Martin. I love this particular human cargo and I’ll take care of it.” He planted a brief kiss on Sara’s lips. “It will be okay, Sah.”
“George, I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I love you, Sah.” He kissed her again, to the delight of Uncle Martin who had always wanted them to reconcile. “I will do everything in my power to protect you.”
“I know that I’m in good hands.” She smiled and put on her breathing machine.
“Goodbye, Sara,” the old man said. “You’ll be alright. George will take care of yo
u. He knows I’ll kick his ass if he lets anything happen to you.”
“Bye, Uncle Martin. Thanks for everything.”
Sara got into the trunk of the old man’s electric car and closed her eyes for a moment when George shut the trunk. Claustrophobia surged inside her. She switched on a torch but she quickly switched it off when she discovered that the light made her more claustrophobic. In the light she could clearly see how small the trunk was.
“Adios, son. Take care.”
“Adios, Uncle Martin,” George said, reversing out of the garage. Although he knew that Sara was cushioned by a mattress and pillows, he felt as if he was carrying explosives. He slowly drove out of the neighborhood and stopped when he had only travelled for just over a kilometer. He jumped out of the car and anxiously opened the trunk.
“Are you alright, Sah?”
“I’m fine,” she said, although she felt like jumping out of the trunk. “Drive faster, will you? The slower you drive the longer I stay in here.”
“Okay, darling.”
He entered the car and drove in a more relaxed manner, always checking his view mirror to make sure he wasn’t being followed. He drove up to Interstate 90 without seeing any car behind him. It took the truck fifteen hours to take them from DC to Sprague, and George reckoned that if he drove fast it would take the car less than twelve hours to get them to DC. He stopped at the first service station and charged his batteries to hundred percent. He didn’t use one of the power points that were located along the interstate because he didn’t want to use his credit card. He preferred a service station where he could use hard cash. He knew he could be tracked if he used his credit card.
Sara gradually got used to the small space but she didn’t get used to her inability to see what was happening outside. Her heart pounded when George stopped at the service station. Did he stop of his own volition or did someone stop him? She sighed with relief when the car started to move, but her relief was short-lived. The car stopped a minute later and the trunk was opened. The daylight blinded her for a moment.
“Bought you a soda,” George said.
“Thank you,” she said, squinting, resisting the urge to sit.
“Is there anything you need?”
“Nothing except getting out of this hole.”
“We’re eleven hours away from that.”
Eleven hours! Sara heaved a sigh of despair. It seemed as if she had stayed in the trunk for a whole day. She took off her breathing machine and took sips of the soda. He shut the trunk when she put on her breathing machine. She closed her eyes, wishing she had a watch to help her keep track of time. It was a long time since she last owned a watch. She didn’t see the point in buying a watch when her phone could show time. She couldn’t switch on her phone because she feared her enemies could use it to track her. After an interminable period, George stopped the car and opened the trunk. This time no daylight met Sara’s eyes.
“Are you alright, Sah?”
“I’m fine. What time is it now?”
George looked at his watch. “Fourteen minutes past eight.”
“Oh shit! We’ve only travelled for three hours.”
“Do you need anything?”
“I want to get out of here.”
“You mean you want to pee?”
“No. I want us to get to our destination. Go back to the driver’s seat and end my miserable journey.”
“Yes, darling.”
He entered the car and started the motors. After what seemed like an eternity, Sara fell asleep.
The car was still moving when she woke up. She didn’t know whether it was day or night. When the car began to make frequent stops she knew they were now in an area with lots of traffic lights.
Sara began to feel mounting pressure in her bladder. She was relieved when the car stopped. The vehicle remained stationary for what seemed like ages to her but for some reason, he didn’t open the trunk. She thought that her pelvic floor muscles would give in and let out urine any moment. She felt the pressure coming to her rectum. If he wants to make me do Kegel exercises, he’s making a good job of it, she thought, gritting her teeth.
Finally, he opened the trunk. Daylight greeted her eyes and biogas greeted his nostrils.
“Get out,” he said.
She jumped out of the trunk. “What took you so long?”
“I had to wait for the embassy to open.”
“Let’s get into the embassy,” she said, rushing toward the gate. “I need to get to the ladies room.”
They went to the gate and were approached by one of the two members of the Uniformed Division of the Secret Service who were manning the gate.
“Go to the consular section,” he said sternly. “This entrance is for diplomats and embassy staff.” He trained his eyes on Sara, wondering where he met her. Everyone who was abreast with the world’s current affairs knew Sara. Although he was positive he knew her, he couldn’t put a name or a place to her face. He was used to seeing her looking well-groomed and dignified. Today she looked lost and nervous.
“I am the Administrator of the Global Environmental Management Agency and I urgently need to speak to the most senior Russian diplomat present at the moment.”
The guard’s eyes widened with recognition. Although she was unkempt and scruffy, the lady was unmistakably the Director of GEMA. Maybe she only preens herself when she wants to go in front of the cameras. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
“Wait a second.”
He paced inside and talked to a man who was sitting in a guardroom.
Sara blanched. She knew that the man she had talked to was a member of a US federal law enforcement agency. If the attempt on her life was part of a conspiracy involving people in the US government, he could be part of that conspiracy. Maybe he was now contacting his superiors to send men to snatch her before she could enter the Russian embassy. She regretted her decision not to go to the consular section which was open to the public. She was so afraid that she forgot about the pain in her bladder.
George turned back and swept his eyes over the area near the embassy in search of potential threats. He hadn’t expected that it would take them long to be admitted into the embassy. He thought the Director of GEMA would be granted automatic entry.
They sighed with relief when the uniformed Secret Service man returned and opened the gate. He took them to a checkpoint where they were scanned with metal detectors. After that he led them to a gaunt middle-aged man who was wearing military uniform.
“Doctor Cummings,” he said with a slight bow of his head. “Welcome to the Russian Embassy. I’m Colonel Sergei Mostovoi, military attaché to the Embassy of the Russian Federation. Let me take you inside.”
“Thank you, Colonel,” Sara said.
The colonel led them into the lobby of the embassy’s ceremonial building. As military attaché, Colonel Sergei Mostovoi served as the Russian Federation’s primary point of contact for all joint Russia-US military activities, but since there was very little joint military activity taking place between the two superpowers, the colonel’s job now largely involved running errands for the ambassador.
The ceremonial building had a distinctly Russian flavor to it, having been designed by Michael Posokhin, a well-known Soviet architect who designed many monumental edifices in the Kremlin. The lobby was adorned with beautiful Russian-made furniture that was finished with white Russian marble. Hanging on the walls were portraits of the Russian President and Prime Minister as well as portraits of former Soviet and Russian ambassadors to the United States.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” the military attaché said. “The ambassador will see you as soon as he can.”
“I want to go to the ladies room,” Sara said.
The colonel pointed at a corridor on the left. “That way.”
Sara rushed to the ladies room, leaving George feasting his eyes on the beautiful lobby. He couldn’t help feeling as if he was in a palace. He sat on one of the e
xquisite chairs, noting that it was by far the most beautiful seat his posterior had ever known. The military attaché left the lobby.
Looking a bit fresher and more relaxed, Sara returned and sat next to George. The more she waited for the ambassador was the more she became worried. What if the plot to kill her was part of a conspiracy involving the Russian government?
The ambassador kept them waiting for over thirty minutes. He entered the lobby with a bored-looking short young man. The ambassador looked younger than his fifty-nine years of age. His face had no lines and his brown hair had just a tiny hint of grayness here and there. Sara wondered whether the young man with the ambassador was his personal assistant or an agent of the Foreign Intelligence Service.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Doctor Cummings,” the top Russian diplomat said, shaking Sara’s hand. “I am Yuri Salenko, the ambassador of the Russian Federation.”
“Your excellence, please forgive me for asking you to see me on such short notice.”
“It’s my job to see people who want to see me,” he said, shaking George’s hand. “Please sit down.”
Sara and George returned to their seat and the ambassador took a seat opposite them without introducing his young companion. The young man could very well have been a robot. He sat beside the ambassador without saying a word.
“It’s a pleasure to have you here, Doctor Cummings.”
“Your Excellence, I’ve come here to seek asylum.”
The ambassador eyed Sara with shock. This was by far the most shocking thing that he had ever heard from a guest of the Russian embassy. “Did I hear you correctly, Doctor Cummings? Did you just say that you came here to seek asylum?”
“Yes. An unknown organization wants to kill me.”
“Did you report this matter to the police or the FBI?”
“No.”
“Forgive me for asking, Doctor Cummings. Why did you decide to seek protection of the Russian embassy rather than the protection of the American government?”
“I suspect that people in the American government, intelligence or law enforcement agencies might be involved in the attempt on my life.”
The E Utopia Project Page 9
