Thandie glanced back at the Ark, at Captain Suarez. “I can’t believe Nathan hired that damn woman. That he made her captain! She tried to sink him out at the Gyre, and she might have managed it if the New Jersey hadn’t shown up.”
“That’s Nathan for you,” Lily said. “When he beats you he assimilates you. I’ve seen him do it again and again.” She glanced at Hammond, thirty-five years old and sullen, sitting stiffly beside Grace. “Even to his own son.”
“Hell of a management strategy, to surround yourself with people who’ve got a grudge against you.”
“It’s kind of Darwinian, I think. You have to be strong to survive being close to him.”
Thandie nodded. “Well, you’ve all survived this far.”
“Yeah. But Nathan’s not going to last forever, and neither is his Ark. Which is why—”
Thandie covered Lily’s hand with her own. “I know. Look, I’ve done my best to set this up. There’s at least a chance it will work, with luck and a bit of goodwill, and imagination on all sides. We’ll just have to see how it plays out . . .”
They fell silent, for they were approaching the shore.
They came in somewhere over the flooded remains of the town of Pueblo. Lily could already see mountains shouldering above the horizon to the west. The mountains had a bare, brown look, stripped of the ice cover they had had only a few years ago; the snowline was somewhere above their summits now, a wholly theoretical plane in the air.
And as they approached the dry land they passed among the drifting offshore communities. The launches drew closer together for protection, and crewmen stood up, their weapons showing, pistols and nightsticks. There were boats and smacks of all sizes, and many rafts, improvised from the detritus of the drowned towns. One family even sat on what looked like a roadside billboard, its gaudy laminated colors still advertising a hot dog brand. There were very few old people on these vessels, few as old as Lily was, and there was a stink of sewage. As the launch passed, kids came rushing to the edge of the rafts, their hands out. Lily saw the dismal pot-belly signature of malnutrition.
“My God,” Hammond said. “This is a zoo. Can’t we help these people?”
“We don’t have the resources,” Thandie said. “ ‘We’ meaning the Navy, the government. It isn’t possible to help everybody anymore.”
“What a pack of losers,” Nathan snarled. “You got a raft, you sail out to sea and you can catch all the fish you want. Stay this close in to shore and you’ll get nothing but scraps off the land. Pathetic.”
“Not everybody’s as tough as you are, Nathan,” Lily murmured.
“Then the hell with them.”
Lily saw how Hammond gazed at Nathan, his face black with loathing.
The shore, a rocky slope that pushed steeply out of the water, was fringed by barbed wire and concrete blocks, like tank traps. Troops in faded olive-green uniforms patrolled the barrier, carrying clubs that they evidently used to beat back anybody who tried to land. They wore helmets with a Homeland Security logo. Their actions were the ultimate expression of that particular department’s historic function, Lily thought.
Looking along the shore, however, she saw how more troops and civilian workers were moving the barricade back, rebuilding it, retreating from a sea that now rose around a meter every single day.
The launches came in on a roadway that climbed up out of the sea. The troops moved wire and concrete blocks out of the way to let them land, and then hauled the launch out of the water and up onto the tarmac. The party aboard stepped out gingerly. Hammond made a show of helping his wife, but Grace refused him. Lily stood straight on the tilting road surface, and flexed her toes, testing her balance.
Thandie led the way to a small fleet of electric cars, emblazoned with Homeland Security and US Army and Navy logos. The Ark crew got into these vehicles, bemused; Lily couldn’t remember the last time she had been in a car, even a beat-up electric jeep like this. Thandie said they would drive a few kilometers further inland to an old mining town called Cripple Creek, a center of population hereabouts where they would make their rendezvous.
As they drove away from the shore Thandie pointed out the sights to Lily. “That’s Pikes Peak. Cripple Creek is on its southwest face.”
“I haven’t been ashore in a while,” Lily said. “Those rafts, the starving people—I didn’t know things were so bad.”
Thandie grunted. “It could be worse. Sounds like it is worse, in central Asia. In America it’s been a slower tragedy. For all the abuse, the inequality and the corporate ripoff, Americans gave it their best shot. They built a homeland up there on the Great Plains in a decade, a whole new nation, and then in the next decade they had to abandon it again.”
“Like the troopers at the beach. You build your barrier, then a little later your have to build it again further back.”
“Just like that.”
They drove on, climbing higher. Faded signs announced that this was State Highway 67. The road narrowed, becoming a pass through the mountains; some of the views were vertiginous.
Thandie said, “Things are fraying. The government has shifted its resources to a few special projects it’s trying to sustain. Otherwise, before the government liquefies altogether, it is simply trying to help people prepare for the next phase.”
“Rafts.”
“Yes. There’s nothing else to be done.”
They were approaching the town.
Nathan leaned forward from the back. “ ‘Special projects,’ ” he growled. “What kind of projects?”
Lily said, “That’s what we’re here to discuss, Nathan.” She glanced at Thandie.
Thandie shrugged. “It won’t be a secret much longer anyhow. Tell him.”
Lily said to Nathan, “A project like Ark One.”
90
Cripple Creek had been a poor settlement that had become briefly rich when gold was discovered on Pikes Peak in the 1890s. Then when the gold was gone it became a tourist trap. The heart of the town was a row of storefronts that looked like a set from some western movie, with what had been gift shops and ice cream parlors. A faded sign promised tours to the Mollie Kathleen Gold Mine.
Now, in the age of the flood, a shantytown of tents and shacks spread far beyond the core of the old town, a vast community of refugees clinging to the face of the mountain. Homeless were camped right in the heart of town, in the streets and parking lots and the forecourts of disused gas stations.
Thandie’s party was taken to a requisitioned restaurant that had once been a Denny’s. A young soldier was posted at the door, and the window was plastered with signs saying the place was for the sole use of US military personnel and federal government officials. The nestlike shelters of the homeless washed right up to its door. Walking through mounds of canvas and plastic, Lily took care not to step on anybody.
Inside, the restaurant was clean, serviceable, but lacked any character. And sitting alone at a table here, cradling a china mug of coffee, was Gordon James Alonzo. He stood as they entered.
Nathan took command, as always. He walked straight to Gordo and grabbed his hand. “Gordo, you old dog. I haven’t seen you in years.”
Gordo embraced Nathan back. “Yeah, and you owe me my last pay-check, you rascal.”
The former astronaut had to be in his seventies, Lily calculated, but he was as upright and fit-looking and intimidating as he had ever been, his blue eyes still bright. All his hair was gone now, leaving a scalp that was nutmeg brown and polished smooth, an egg carved of wood. He wore a crisp USAF officer’s uniform.
They sat at Gordo’s table, Nathan and Lily, Hammond and Grace, Thandie. The New Jersey crew who had accompanied Thandie set themselves over in the corner, and took off their peaked caps. A young enlisted man came out and offered them all coffee and bagels. As Nathan worked through a round of introductions, Lily tried the coffee. It turned out to be aromatic and fresh, the best she had tasted in years.
“You can thank the Cold War for the c
offee,” Thandie murmured.
“I don’t get it.”
“A joke at my expense, Miss Brooke,” said Gordo. “I work at the Cheyenne Mountain Air Force Station, specifically at the Cheyenne Mountain Directorate. Air and missile warning centers, space control center, and a shitload of other functions, all buried behind concrete bulkheads and steel walls two thousand feet under the mountain. When the Cold War calmed down the base was put on warm standby under NORAD. Which is the North American Aerospace Defense Command.”
“I know what NORAD is,” Lily said testily. “Was once USAF myself, you know, Gordo.”
“My apologies. Anyhow when the flooding began the base was reactivated, to handle security concerns arising out of the new situation. And eventually I myself was reactivated, so to speak, taken out of the Army, brought back into the Air Force, posted here. And now we’re working through seventy-year-old stocks of coffee and beans and candy bars in the nuclear bunkers.”
“And,” Thandie said, “Gordo here is integral to Ark One.”
Gordo glanced around. “We never refer to it that way. Code word is Nimrod.”
“Nimrod, then.”
Nathan was studying Gordo. “I was involved when we conceived the Ark program in the first place. So was Thandie, who was hired to give a briefing. It was an idea somebody cooked up in the LaRei. Which was a rich guys’ club. History now. Anyhow we all came up with projects, ways to beat the flood, and supported each other to get them done. It was always so damned secretive. I built Ark Three, and even I never found out what the other Arks were going to be or where they were built. And then the whole program got taken over by the federal government and I had even less chance of figuring it out. It’s the same now, isn’t it? You’re not going to tell us what this Project Nimrod is, are you, Gordo?”
“Classified, sir.”
Nathan glanced at Thandie. “So why are we here?”
Thandie’s look was guarded. “I know more about Project Nimrod than I should. Oh, don’t look at me like that, Gordo. I’ve been working around the military for years. You only have to keep your ears and eyes open to pick up a hell of a lot. What’s left of the US military is up to something, deep in the heart of Cheyenne Mountain. I won’t say what I think it is. You might want to ask why they would enlist this man as a consultant, however. But one thing is clear. It is designed to save a number of people. A small number, selected for their genetic diversity and their skill sets.”
Nathan snapped, “Save them from what?”
“The worst case.”
He frowned. “Which is?”
“Extinction,” she said.
That stopped the conversation.
Extinction. It had always been a possibility, and then a growing probability, as the flood had kept relentlessly on, and mankind’s ability to cope with its effects had crumbled. Civilization falling was one thing, but if the land itself were covered, if there were no rocks to bang together, no savannah for a roaming primate to inhabit, what then? It was a word nobody used, as if to say it might bring that very event about. But it was there, Lily knew, in the minds of everybody on the planet with any sense of perspective.
Lily watched Nathan. She saw what he was thinking. After all these years, she knew Nathan inside out. If extinction were to threaten, this Project Nimrod might be the only channel by which one’s genes—specifically Nathan’s genes—could pass to the future. That was what Nathan was thinking.
And that was what would drive events now, Lily hoped, Nathan’s usual ruthless calculation impelling him to form fresh plans. Lily could achieve her own purposes by riding on those plans.
But Gordo Alonzo was frowning. “Just what’s going on here? I was told by Miss Jones that we were here to discuss a donation to the project. By you, Mr. Lammockson.”
“That’s news to me,” Nathan said, looking at Lily and Thandie. “You think we’ve been set up by these ladies, Gordo? Anyhow, what kind of donation? I can’t believe you’re asking for money.”
“Not money, Nathan,” Lily said gently. “Something much more precious. Seeds. Zygotes. Your Norwegian archive in the hold on Ark Three.” A treasure Nathan had been protecting all these years, even as the world disintegrated around him and his cruise liner turned into a battleship.
“So why would I give that away?” Nathan asked. But Lily saw him work it out. “Oh, I get it. It’s not a donation. It’s a purchase.”
Gordo was slower on the uptake. “A purchase of what?”
Thandie said, “Gordo, Lily and I cooked this up together. Look—here’s what I know. Ark One needs what Nathan has: the root stock to rebuild a world. It’s one thing the US government programs were slow in securing. And I know you have influence in the project, a lot of influence. There’s a list of candidates for the crew, isn’t there? You can get people off of there, if you put a word in the right ear. That probably isn’t hard. But more important, you personally have at least a chance of getting somebody new on the list.”
Gordo’s eyes narrowed. “So that’s it. In return for this freezer full of grass seed and pig embryos, Nathan wants to buy a place in Nimrod.”
Nathan held his hands up. “Hey, don’t look at me. I didn’t come in here wanting anything.” But, hooked by the prospect of a deal, he was watching Gordo’s reaction. “Just as a theoretical possibility, however. If Nimrod exists at all, if you have this kind of sway. You think it’s possible you could do this?”
Gordo shrugged. “I could maybe get a certain class of people on there. And it doesn’t include you, Nathan. There are various categories you have to fit—such as, young enough to have a kid. That rules out you.” He stiffened, subtly. “And me.”
Grace spoke for the first time. “You’re working on this project knowing you won’t be included yourself ?”
“It’s what we call duty, ma’am,” he said.
Thandie caught Lily’s eye and shook her head. Was there anything more corny than an astronaut being a hero? But Lily found herself moved even so.
But Nathan’s thoughts were surging ahead. “Not me, then. But Hammond here.” He clapped his son on the shoulder. “He’s only thirty-five. You could take Hammond, right?”
Hammond’s blocky face showed an extraordinarily mixed expression, relief he might be saved from a danger he evidently hadn’t been imaginative enough to consider before, and resentment as his father reshaped his life once again.
Gordo’s face worked. “It’s possible—”
“No,” Lily snapped. They all turned to look at her. She leaned forward, her heart beating. This was the crux of the situation—of her whole life, in a sense, since Barcelona. “Not you, Hammond. Grace. Send Grace, Nathan. That’s who you must save.”
Nathan immediately saw what she was doing. “Right. And so you’ll fulfill your promise to Helen, all those years ago. With you people it always comes back to those days in the fucking cellars, doesn’t it? It always comes back to that.”
Lily shrugged. “You know us better than anyone.”
“All right. But why should I do this? Why should I bump my own son out of this safe haven, whatever the hell it is, and put her in instead?”
“Because she’s carrying Hammond’s child.” She pointed at Grace’s belly. “Your genes are in there, Nathan.”
Thandie glanced at Gordo. “She’s actually a better candidate than Hammond, in terms of Nimrod’s criteria. She’s not academic, but she has shown independent survival skills that Hammond never has, frankly. And with a pregnant woman you’re getting two for the price of one, two sets of genes—twice the genetic diversity. She will be an easier sell.”
Grace looked utterly shocked. “You planned this,” she said to Lily, and she touched her own belly. “You set up my relationship with Hammond—even the timing of my pregnancy, to get me onto this Ark. You’ve been planning it for years!”
Hammond snapped, “And what about me? Why should I allow this to happen? If I push you, Dad, you’ll give me that place. I know you will. Why sho
uld I help her, knowing I might not survive myself?”
Gordo Alonzo said, “So that you will be remembered.”
After that, nobody spoke for long seconds.
Lily felt the decision congeal around them. She felt a vast relief. I did it, Helen. I kept my promise to you after all this time. I did it.
Gordo stood up. “We ought to break this up. I got a lot to talk about with my superiors, if, if, I can swing this.”
Thandie said, “I know you won’t say anything about the nature of the project, Gordo. But why Nimrod? Why that name?”
Ramrod straight, he looked down at her. “I guess you skipped Bible studies at school. Genesis 10, verses 8 to 10: ‘And Cush begat Nimrod: he began to be a mighty one in the earth . . . And the beginning of his kingdom was Babel, and Erech, and Accad, and—’ ”
“Babel?”
“It was only generations after the Flood of Noah. Chapter 11, verse 4. ‘And they said, Go to, let us build us a city and a tower, whose top may reach unto heaven.’ ”
“But God struck them down when they built the tower.”
“Yes. But why? 11:6. ‘Now nothing will be restrained from them, which they have imagined to do.’ That’s what God said about mankind. He feared us, and so He struck us down. We have that verse up on the wall on big banners, to motivate the workforce. ‘Nothing will be restrained from them, which they have imagined to do.’ ”
“Wow,” Thandie said. “You’re challenging God?”
“Why the hell not?”
Nathan’s radio phone went off. And then Lily’s, then Hammond’s.
It was Piers, calling from Ark Three. The ship was under attack.
91
Gordo and Thandie rustled up a helicopter to take them all back to the shore. As the bird came down in Cripple Creek it scattered some of the flimsier shanties that crowded the narrow streets. But the population didn’t seem too scared. Lily supposed that the neighborhood of NORAD was one of the few places on the planet where helicopters would still be commonplace.
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