Eleanor’s suspicions had been confirmed the moment she’d walked into the tent and seen the laptop, but Watkins had just removed all doubt. Nathifa had betrayed them. Eleanor had been right not to trust her. But von Albrecht, sitting next to her mom, looked as defiant as the rest of them did. Was it possible he wasn’t a part of the deception?
“And what happens to us?” Eleanor’s mom asked. “What happens to my daughter?”
“Yes, let us return to that,” Watkins said. “What happens to you? If you cooperate with our requests, you will enjoy our protection. I believe you’ve earned your place among the planet’s elite, after all. If you refuse to comply, however, there will be a series of escalating consequences that correspond to your level of opposition.”
Escalating consequences sounded pretty terrifying to Eleanor, especially in Watkins’s refined voice.
“So what do you request?” Luke asked.
Watkins brought his hands up before him, almost in an attitude of prayer, fingertips touching his chin. “Quite simple. You will sign the Preservation Protocol and assist us in saving humanity.”
“But you’re only saving some of humanity,” Eleanor said. “What about everyone else? You’re just going to let most of them die?”
“I see your point,” Watkins said, nodding. “And it is fair. But let me put it another way. Imagine you are trapped on an island and have just watched some of your friends get captured by your enemy. You have a very difficult decision to make. If you stay, you will surely be captured as well—your mission a failure. On the other hand, if you escape, you might succeed, but you will be abandoning your friends, perhaps never seeing them again. What do you do?”
Eleanor narrowed her eyes. She could tell what he was doing.
“Oh, pardon me,” Watkins said. “What did you do?”
Eleanor looked over at Finn, who hadn’t said a word since she had returned with Luke. He was staring at the ground. “That was different,” she said.
“Was it?” Watkins asked. “How?”
“They made a choice,” she said. “Dr. Powers and Julian, they knew what we were trying to do, and they came along willingly. The people of earth, though—they have no idea what you’re doing. You haven’t given them a choice.”
“And because it was their choice,” Watkins said, with reptilian coldness, “you left them to die?”
Eleanor swallowed. She was certain he was bluffing, trying to scare her, but either way, it was working. A sudden terror punched her in the stomach. What if he had killed Dr. Powers and Julian?
“Please understand,” Watkins said. “I believe you did the right thing, escaping from the Isla del Sol. I admire you for it. That was the best decision you could make under very difficult circumstances. The earth faces a similar dilemma. It is our island in space, and we must decide who will escape the fate that awaits us. All or none is not a rational approach. We can and must save some. And given that we cannot provide each person with that choice, someone needs to make it for them.”
The reality of the situation was finally sinking in for Eleanor. What did it matter that she had just shut down another Concentrator? The mission was over. A failure. They had been captured anyway, which meant they had abandoned Dr. Powers and Julian for nothing, to a fate she truly didn’t know.
“Did . . . did you kill them?” she whispered.
“Of course not,” Watkins said. “They are in Cairo.”
Eleanor almost let out a sob of relief, and Finn finally looked up from the floor.
“I don’t take human life unnecessarily, Ms. Perry. I adore human life. The sanctity of human life is what the Preservation Protocol is built upon. I won’t let anything—not a second ice age, nor a rogue planet, nor a small girl with world-saving delusions—keep me from preventing its extinction.” Dr. Watkins then turned to Eleanor’s mom. “But I believe I made my point, yes? I notice Dr. Perry has been quite silent. Mr. Fournier as well. Would either of you like to voice an objection?”
“There are other ways,” Eleanor’s mom said. “Other avenues to explore before we start using these things to harvest what energy the earth has left.”
“That is exactly why we need you,” Watkins said. “The best minds on the planet have already joined together to confront this. If you have a better idea for a solution, by all means, come with me and present it.”
“Yeah,” Luke said. “You guys have been really open to that so far—”
“Ideas, Mr. Fournier!” Watkins shouted. “Not actions! You have all taken it upon yourselves to act for the entire world! Does that not strike you as the height of arrogance? Taking away the very choice you seem so adamant to provide? Who do you think you are to assume you know better? And I don’t mean better than me or Skinner. I mean better than everyone else in the world.”
“There was no one else!” Eleanor said. “We were there, and we did what we knew was right. And I would do it again.”
“How do you choose?” Eleanor’s mom asked.
“Choose what?” Watkins said.
“Who survives and who dies?”
“The selection process within the Preservation Protocol is still under development,” Watkins said. “Perhaps that is an area where you would like to help?”
Eleanor eyed her mother, wondering what she was doing.
“Selection process?” Luke said. “When in the history of the human race have those two words ever meant anything good?”
“Never,” Finn said.
“That is because it has always been a function of tribalism and rivalry,” Watkins said. “But in this case, the world is coming together for a greater purpose.”
Luke folded his arms. “Sounds like classic dictator- speak to me.”
“So how will you choose?” Finn asked.
“I just told you,” Watkins said. “The process is still under development, but I can assure you it will be fair and impartial to—”
“Will it be the rich people?” Finn asked. “The ones who can buy their way in?”
“Of course not,” Watkins said. “That’s—”
“You want smart people, though, right?” Finn rose from the cot to his feet. “Are you going to give IQ tests?”
“That is—” Watkins had gone red. “That is not something—”
“What about criminals?” Finn asked. “You don’t want them, do you? I mean—”
“Young man!” Watkins shouted. “Criminals have already demonstrated they are unfit for society, have they not?”
“Unfit?” Eleanor said.
“Yes,” Watkins said. “Unfit.”
“That’s a word with as many definitions as there are people,” Luke said.
“And that means it’s not exactly impartial, is it?” Finn said. “You’re deciding who fits, and who doesn’t.”
Watkins stared hard at him. “I see you have your father’s keen intellect. I’m impressed.”
“You think I care?” Finn said. “You think you can bring up my dad and—”
“Would you like to see him?” Watkins cocked his head to the side. “The helicopter is waiting outside. We can be in Cairo in a little over two hours.”
That shut Finn’s mouth.
“I suggest we all go,” Watkins said. “This tent is far from comfortable. Some time away from the debate would do us all good, I think. We can resume talks after we’ve landed and eaten breakfast.”
No one argued with him, but then again, Eleanor knew that as friendly as Watkins sounded, he was leaving them with no choice. He held the end of the golden chain.
Nathifa moved to pack up the equipment, but Watkins told her to stop. “You will stay here,” he said. “Resume your search. I will send support staff as soon as we land.”
“Yes, Dr. Watkins,” Nathifa said.
Though Eleanor wasn’t surprised at the woman’s betrayal, it still hurt. Amaru had betrayed them to save his family. She suspected Watkins must have some leverage over her beyond her passion for archaeology. Nathifa, like every
one else, probably had people she wanted to save. Family. Friends. With millions of people barely hanging on in refugee camps, that was an inevitability. And it would only get worse.
Hobbes and the other two armed guards marched them all from the tent and across the short distance to the helicopter. It was large enough inside to carry all of them and more, a military-style aircraft with mesh benches that pulled down from the wall. After they had all strapped in, Hobbes climbed up into the cockpit and fired up the engines. The propeller whined above them, and soon the whumping sound it made drowned out all others and felt like a sack over Eleanor’s head. They lifted off the ground, and as the helicopter flew away, Eleanor caught one last glimpse of the Valley of the Kings, and the tent with a solitary figure standing in the light of the doorway.
The next two hours passed far too slowly. The bench Eleanor sat on dug into her hip bones at just the wrong places, and the mesh straps were unyielding. It was too loud to talk to anyone, but Eleanor didn’t know what they would say anyway. She certainly didn’t want to have a conversation in front of Watkins.
But the flight eventually came to an end, and it was dawn when they finally landed on the Giza Plateau, near the pyramids.
They stunned her with the weight of their presence, and the power in their simplicity and perfection. They did evoke the pyramid-mountain under which they had found the Concentrator, and Eleanor agreed with her mom that must have been intentional on the part of the pyramids’ builders. But what boldness and audacity they must have possessed—to re-create a mountain range.
“That thrill you’re feeling never goes away,” Watkins said. “Come, please.”
Again, polite, but it wasn’t a request, and they followed him through the G.E.T. encampment of tents they had seen earlier. Watkins led them to one of the larger ones, and inside they found a well-appointed office space, not at all like the tent they had left last night, complete with partial walls, cubicles, desks, filing cabinets, and other furniture, and beneath it all a temporary floor of rubber tiles.
Watkins led them to a conference room with a long table surrounded by high-backed chairs. “I’ll have some breakfast brought in,” he said. “Please wait here.” And then he and Hobbes and the other two guards left.
Everyone was quiet at first, and then one by one they took seats around the table and stared blankly across it at one another. It didn’t matter anymore who was right and who was wrong. They were prisoners now. Prisoners were always wrong.
“What on earth were you thinking?” her mom nearly shouted. “Going off alone! Without me!”
Eleanor had known she would be angry. “I did what I had to do,” she said.
“And you!” Her mom pointed a finger at Luke. “What gives you the right to take my daughter—?”
“No right, ma’am,” Luke said. “But you know how your kid can be when she’s made up her mind.”
“It wasn’t his idea,” Eleanor said. “It was mine. If you’re going to be angry at someone, be angry at me.”
“Oh, I am,” her mom said. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?”
“You don’t need to worry. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time. But you won’t listen to me.”
“Did you guys find it?” Betty whispered. It was the first thing Eleanor could remember her saying since they’d left the Valley of the Kings.
Eleanor assumed they were being listened to but also figured it didn’t matter now. Nathifa would probably guess where they had gone, and even without her scanner, it wouldn’t be hard for them to find their way down to the Concentrator now that the only thing blocking the secret entrance was a conspicuous pile of rocks. “Yes,” she said. “I shut it down.”
Betty nodded, and there was a catch in her voice. “That’s good.”
“Are you okay?” Eleanor asked her.
“Nope. But there’s nothing to be done about it, is there?”
“No,” von Albrecht said. “There is nothing. We tried and we failed. But I, most of all, because it was I who trusted her.”
“So did we,” Eleanor’s mom said. “And we, more than anyone else, should have learned our lesson by now.”
The door opened then, and Dr. Powers walked into the room, followed by Julian.
“Dad!” Finn shouted as he leaped to his feet.
“Finn,” Dr. Powers said, pulling his son into a tight hug that lasted for several moments, and when they parted, Julian grabbed Finn and hugged him too, pounding his back.
“I was afraid I’d never see you again, Finn,” he said.
“Me too,” Finn said. “I was so worried.”
“We’re fine, son,” Dr. Powers said. “They’ve treated us fairly, from the moment they took us from the island.”
“I didn’t want to leave you.” Finn reached an arm around Julian’s shoulder. “But we had to.”
“You did the right thing,” Dr. Powers said. “I’m proud of you.”
There was something about Dr. Powers’s tone that Eleanor found disconcerting. He had the measured hesitancy of someone with bad news they’re just waiting for the right moment to share. But Finn didn’t seem to notice anything amiss and beamed at his father.
The door opened again, and Watkins walked in. “Ah, I missed the reunion. But I trust you’re all happy to see one another safe and sound?”
“Very happy,” Dr. Powers said. “Thank you again.”
“Good,” Watkins said. “Breakfast is on its way, but in the meantime, I thought we might resume our talks.”
“Do we have a choice?” Eleanor’s mom asked.
“Sam,” Dr. Powers said, “a lot has changed. You need to hear Dr. Watkins out.”
“Dad,” Finn said, stepping away. “What’re you—”
Dr. Powers pulled him close again. “Just listen, son.”
“I don’t understand,” Eleanor’s mom said. “Simon, don’t tell me you—”
“Our plan was flawed,” Dr. Powers said. “Based on a false assumption.”
“But we’ve stopped them,” Eleanor said. “Three of them.”
Watkins bent his ear forward with the tip of his finger. “Excuse me, stopped them?”
Eleanor glowered at him. “The Concentrators.”
“Oh, my dear.” Watkins shook his head. “I’m sorry, but you didn’t stop them. Well, not permanently.”
“What do you mean?” her mom asked.
“Your daughter turned them off, certainly. But what has been turned off can be turned back on. The Inca Tree has already resumed operation. We should be ready to harvest energy from it in a matter of weeks. We’re still digging the Arctic Tree out from under the ice, but that is only a matter of time and persistence.”
He was lying. He had to be. The Concentrators weren’t just turned off—they were dead. Eleanor had felt them die as she killed them.
“It’s true, Sam,” Dr. Powers said. “Our plan was never going to work. Please. Listen to us.”
CHAPTER
23
IF WHAT DR. POWERS AND WATKINS HAD JUST SAID WAS true, then she had no idea what it meant for her, for her mom, for Uncle Jack, for her friends. For the refugees—in Tucson, in Mexico City, in Cairo. For the entire earth.
“Might I have a word with Eleanor alone?” Watkins asked.
“Not a chance in hell,” Luke said.
“It’s okay,” Eleanor said. “Really.” She supposed she should probably be frightened by the request, but she wasn’t. Watkins, the man, didn’t actually scare her. It was Watkins, the architect of the end of the world, who scared her.
“Why do you want her?” Eleanor’s mom asked.
“I think she and I can come to a better understanding if we are able to talk freely.”
“She’s a kid,” Betty said. “Why do you need to come to any understanding with her?”
“She knows the answer to that,” Watkins said, turning and eying her meaningfully. “Don’t you, Eleanor?”
Eleanor got to her feet. “I’ll b
e fine.”
Watkins opened the door for Eleanor as she came around the conference table. “Shall we, my dear?”
She stepped through, looking back over her shoulder at her mother as Watkins closed the door, and then followed him back through the office tent to the exit. A moment later she found herself outside, once again beneath the pyramids. Watkins looked up at them, shielding his eyes from the sun.
“Let’s take a closer look, eh?” he said, and guided her through the tents of the G.E.T. encampment toward the largest of the structures, the Great Pyramid.
As they approached it, Eleanor could see just how enormous the stone blocks were from which it had been built, each of them over four feet tall, and the closer she got to the structure, the more massive and imposing it became.
“They estimate it contains over two million blocks,” Watkins said. “Placed one at a time, twelve stones an hour, day and night, for twenty years.”
“It’s unbelievable,” Eleanor said, and meant it, even when she compared it to Concentrators, and Amorak’s tribe, and the mummies. “Can I climb it?”
“The Egyptian government would tell you no,” Watkins said. “But what does their opinion matter anymore? I’ve wanted to myself, to tell you the truth.”
Together, they mounted the first step and then climbed up onto the next, and the next. There were times when Eleanor couldn’t find any foothold and had a very hard time pulling herself up. The angle of the pyramid’s slope was quite steep, too, so that the higher she climbed, the more she feared falling. The wind that clawed up and down and back and forth across the stone didn’t help. They had just reached a point high enough to look down over the entire camp when Watkins stopped.
“That’s about it for this old man,” he said, and sat down. “We’ve really only just started.”
Eleanor couldn’t even see the peak from where she stood. To even think of climbing the entire way utterly exhausted her. She still felt some of the lingering weakness from shutting down the Concentrator.
“I brought you up here for a reason,” Watkins said. “Do you know what that might be?”
“Not a clue,” she said.
Island of the Sun (Dark Gravity Sequence) Page 22
