Dinesh paused, wondering if Charles was reviving his resentment for the way he had left their startup, thirty years before so he tried to change the topic.
“Has your intelligence found out who armed the gang?”
“Not yet. Nor does it help that the police killed all the members of the attack team. It looks like one of the many Afro-American gangs who routinely raid Jewish neighborhoods and in general all non-black areas in New York, despite all the post-civil war pacification effort. We are kind of stuck, just like you guys in the Middle East.”
“I see,” Dinesh thought it was the right time to switch subjects again, “Is your orbital elevator a key part of the reconstruction plan?”
“Um, yes and no, Skip wants it because he does not want it to be left behind the two Eurasian superpowers. The Russians and the Europeans will have it up and running in a couple of years, while your project with the Chinese will follow shortly after. I said publicly it’s a bit of a me-too approach, but the President has a magnetic grip on Congress.”
“Charles, it will be wasted effort. You know the world does not need three space elevators. What we need is somebody to develop and deploy the space oil extraction and refinery station, and it cannot be but you to do this. We will give you access to the orbital elevators to assemble the station in orbit.”
“Dinesh, it’s you guys in Eurasia that have made a major disaster, depleting fossil fuel reserves in the last fifteen years with your continental wars. I do not see why we should come to the rescue. We are recovering from a civil war, I may remind you. Our country cannot last without a key piece of technology like the orbital elevator. We can help you develop the space oil station, though, plus, countries are building solar plants like crazy, so there will be plenty of energy anyway.”
“It’s not enough, Charles, and you know it. Five billion people already perished in the last twenty years, we need to clean up the mess quickly. To do that, we need vast amounts of fossil fuels, which we no longer have on this planet. That’s also why we need NASA to develop a large scale version of the space oil driller, to send it over to the external planets of the solar system and bring back huge chunks of frozen methane. It’s paradoxical, but only more hydrocarbons will allow us to get rid of the excess carbon.”
“Dinesh, even assuming we start building it tomorrow, and we commit all our effort, it will take ten years before we have a significant production. Nothing will happen until 2060, and we have to be prepared for that.”
“Charles, we have way too much carbon dioxide in the atmosphere now, and not to mention all the war-related pollutants. Take the effect of the pest swarms into account, and we are where we are now, with mankind squeezed in an area no bigger than the United States, mostly along coastlines in tempered climates. If we just rely on current resources, the area will not be able to support us all. And we have to continue to fight the pests. There is no way Earth can be given up that easily. We need to start tapping resources from outer space. You guys have a key piece of the technology, just focus your effort on that and..”
“Enough said, Dinesh. I know all the data, it has been debated in public several times. The basic problem is lack of trust. Skip does not want to depend on Eurasia for the elevator, it’s as simple as that.” Charles moved closer to the screen. On the other side, Dinesh instinctively backed away.
“Is the problem just with Skip, Charles? I mean, does Congress have the exact same mindset?”
“Thirty years ago I trusted you, Dinesh,” Charles abruptly said, “and it was not a good idea.” Dinesh was expecting this and tried to reply, but Charles raised his hand to stop him.
“However, things have changed now. I still don’t trust you, but I have learned to trust facts instead. Yes, you are probably right. Yet this is not enough to move the will of the people, that is, Congress.”
“What do we need to do more, Charles? We are already doing a lot of lobbying with the Congress and the White House, our Prime Minister and the Russians have proposed very favorable treaties for you to join our space elevator ventures, Europeans are constantly begging you to join the effort. What else do you need?”
“I do not know, Dinesh. We are learning to trust each other again here at home, maybe we just need some more time. You know, many Congressmen realize this, yet they are not able to share their view, and go against the President. Skip is the winner of the Civil War, and he is guaranteeing the newly found, fragile unity of the nation. The future of mankind can wait for the next election, which he is likely win, by the way.”
“So is Skip the real issue?” Dinesh quietly asked, “Will things change once he is gone?”
“For sure, they won’t change until he is in place. At the end of the day, you do not have that many options to force him out. I have known him for more than thirty years, no matter how far you dig, you won’t find any juicy scandal in his life. This leaves only the violent ways, but they are difficult to carry out, given the security around him. What’s more, assassination can make someone’s position even stronger. Believe me, the only realistic option is to hope in a stroke or some other kind of heavenly sign, if you believe in that.”
Charles statements were followed by the silence of Dinesh, who eventually commented.
“I hope I have not compromised your position with this open talk, I guess our conversation might be listened to, sooner or later.”
“Of course, I am used to that. Actually, I did not tell you anything that I haven’t already discussed with Skip over the past several months. On the other hand, you would not be a welcome guest here, as you are openly contemplating scenarios against the President’s security. You know what? You’ve just decreased the already slim chances that Skip changes position on the space program.”
Chapter 31
It was dusk when the helicopter, flying in from the Tel Aviv secure zone, approached the landing pad of the citadel of Maale Adumim. Before touching ground, Avi Eitan noticed the gas fires being lit up all around the old settlement. It had transformed since the evacuation to Cyprus in a fortress that was overlooking the Judean desert and controlling access to Jerusalem from the East. Beyond the stone desert, there was the white, salty spot that once used to be the Dead Sea. The last pools of water had evaporated less than one year ago, in the summer of 2052, and since then Avi always avoided to stare at it again. He preferred to look West, where the roofs and buildings of Jerusalem were casting black shadows over the purple horizon.
He got off the helicopter and headed to the control center, where he was met by Raphi Kaplan, the officer in command.
“Good morning, Colonel Kaplan. Is the team ready? We need to pay a visit to an old friend. Hopefully he did not move in the meantime.”
“He is still in the Old City,” Raphi replied immediately, “He lives in a flat on 23rd David Street, close to the Western Wall, but inhabitants relocate frequently, to try and get away from the mice infestations. They cannot afford the automatic perimeter defense systems we have here, so they have to be ready to move if the occasional pest swarm comes all the way up from the valley, in search for food.”
Avi activated his infrared goggles, and then boarded the second Humvee in the six-vehicle motorcade that drove down from the Mount of Olives and up the hill of Jerusalem, until they reached the Western Wall esplanade. They got off and walked into the Old City, their rifles ready to shoot.
“Who do we have to fear more, the rats or the snipers?”, he asked Raphi over the radio.
“At this time of the day, definitely the rats,” Raphi replied, half amused, “Snipers do not have much night vision gear, while rats can sense us a mile away.”
They turned the corner and moved up David Street. The navigation system showed they were less than two hundred yards away from their destination when the motion detector started buzzing in their ears. The threat was coming from behind.
The eight-people squad immediately took positions at the center of the tight road, except two members that pushed to the sides to c
over the roofs and windows. They pointed their rifles toward the end of the street. After a few seconds, the first rats appeared, smelling the air around them, and turning in the direction of the Israeli team.
“Hold on, wait for the swarm to finish,” Raphi said, “Let’s try to get it done at one time. They are too close to use grenades so we have to make do with guns.”
Fifty yards away, the rats kept trickling around the street corner, in increasing numbers. The leaders of the swarm were slowly moving toward the Israeli squad, and then suddenly, as if they had felt they had built up a large enough team, they accelerated towards the soldiers.
The voice of Colonel Kaplan interrupted Avi’s thoughts.
“Ok guys, hold on another three seconds. One. Two. Fire!”
The six Israeli lightweight machine guns cut through the swarm, killing the first lines. But from around the corner, the supply did not seem to stop.
After four seconds of shooting, Avi had to reload his rifle, immediately followed by Raphi. The two soldiers who stood next to wall took over. The tide could slow down, but not stop. The swarm was now just twenty yards away.
“Fuck, how many are they?!” Avi thought out aloud, looking at Raphi for an instant.
“They’re bigger than usual, too” Raphi replied, “It’s definitely more than the occasional nuisance, Sir. We better move back to gain some time.”
The squad started moving, as they retreated they passed an abandoned ice cream shop. One window on the first floor flung open and they heard a man shouting at them in Hebrew.
“Don’t shoot on us, we are going to help you.” He then switched to Arabic, “Imad, whenever you are ready, fire.”
A second window on the opposite side of the street opened, and Avi saw the unmistakable shape of grenade launchers emerging from the upstairs window.
The two grenades shot opened in midair above the rat swarm, releasing a thick rainfall of small fireballs, that started moving as soon as they touched the ground, chasing the rats one by one. The swarm was destroyed, the few surviving rats dispersed along the alleys.
Raphi could not hide his surprise, as he took off the helmet and said to Avi,
“I wonder how they got their hands on the new microspider grenades….they have just been adopted by the Indians and we have not yet managed to replicate them..”
“You have to be ingenious, if you want to survive here in the Old City,” the voice they had heard from the window now echoed from the doorway below it, and before Avi could say anything, Yaakov emerged from the darkness.
“I guess you are looking for me,” Yaakov said, without letting Avi speak, “We better sit down in Imad’s house, he is very hospitable, even with you Israeli Army guys. And his house is in much better shape than mine.”
Avi and Yaakov entered the apartment, followed by Imad. Avi told Yaakov, in Russian, that the conversation had to remain confidential.
“Yes,” Yaakov replied, “provided we continue in Russian. Imad has no translation devices implanted.”
“Alright, Yaakov. We need you. We have to deliver a message to somebody in the United States and it cannot be delivered by us. By us I mean the Mossad or any other entity linked to Israel.”
“You kicked me out of service a few years ago, and now you are interested in my connections with the Latinos gangs again? I am surprised Eyal does not have a contact there.”
“We do, but we need the message to be delivered by someone trusted, yet completely outside of the power game,” Avi continued. “Someone without a vested interest…”
“..who can seem genuine and authentic. Why didn’t Eyal come personally then, and he send you instead? I might refuse it just out of pride. And don’t bring up the story that Israel or mankind needs it. I have to survive rats, cockroaches, cold and illnesses, like many others here. We will pull it off, one way or another.”
“You know why, Yaakov,” Avi broke in, calmly, “Because Eyal is sick. Big time. He can barely lead cabinet meetings in his Cyprus bunker. The parties in the Knesset are already seeking to appoint a successor, and he asked me to hand this over to you.”
Yaakov took the sealed envelope from his hands. It had been packaged according to the security standards he and Eyal had learned in the first security trainings, which had been more than seventy-five years ago. He checked the seals. No one had attempted to open it. He broke it open, extracted the single sheet of paper it contained and read it, making sure Avi could not see it. Yaakov then hinted to Imad and handed him the letter.
Imad had a long look at it, then nodded to Yaakov and handed him back the letter. Yaakov stood up, took a match and burned the message over the tap. He then sat back at the table with Avi.
“What am I supposed to deliver and when?” he asked. Avi took a bio-memory stick out of his pocket, which Yaakov grabbed and brought to his right temple. After a few minutes, the transfer was complete and he had all the information he needed. Yaakov could not hide his amazement.
“Is this the first time you use it?” Avi asked, knowing the answer.
“Yes, I heard about it last year, from one of my old contacts at Dimona, but I could not believe it. How long will the data stay?”
“Two, three weeks maximum. That’s why you have to leave now. We are taking you to Cyprus right away. I will tell you on the flight how to download the stuff back from your head.” Avi stood up and headed for the door, but he stopped upon realizing that Yaakov was not following.
“So?” Avi asked, “I thought you had made your decision.”
“We are not done yet, Sir,” Yaakov replied, hinting to Imad. “I cannot leave my house unattended during my absence.”
Avi balked, he was not supposed to bring anyone else than Yaakov out of the Old City. Before he could say anything, Yaakov continued.
“I need your team to leave three assault rifles and all the ammunition you have here. You just experienced how aggressive Jerusalem pests can be.”
Avi was relieved. He walked out of the door, and called Raphi.
“Colonel Kaplan, please bring the team inside. We have to leave some gifts before accompanying our guest.”
Chapter 32
The smell of jasmine was strong all around the courtyards and patios of the Getty Villa in Malibu, California. Badly damaged during the Civil War, it had all been restored to its former glory the previous year, with the exception of the ancient Roman statues, as part of the collection had been lost forever.
Charles was walking around the main pool, waiting for Skip to finish the press conference after the signature of the peace treaty with Mexico. The villa was buzzing with high-ranking politicians, high-profile businessmen and their security staffs. Charles thought that there was probably no ordinary people present within one mile from the villa.
Ordinary citizens were all dwelling in the ruins of Los Angeles, three-quarters of which had been destroyed or abandoned over the last twenty years. Charles had witnessed the destruction from the plane that, three days before, had flown him together with the Presidential delegation from Washington.
Across the pool, Charles noticed a slim, fit, tanned woman, who dressed in white and was waving at him. Charles looked at his watch. He was scheduled to meet Skip in half an hour, so there was still enough time for some conversation. He waved back and started walking towards her.
Helena greeted him with a glorious smile and kissed him on both cheeks.
“It’s time to celebrate today, Charles. All our efforts have paid off and our two countries are friends again. You have been great in persuading Congress to grant an amnesty, and US citizenship, to Mexican immigrants that took part in the Rebellion but eventually repented.”
“Don’t underestimate your quality as a negotiator, Helena,” Charles softly replied, “or should I say one of the key influencers of the Mexican government? I am surprised you have not yet been appointed Minister, or offered another important role.”
“Come on, Charles. You know I do not like the limelight. I only fel
t a duty to help fix things that somehow I got started in the first place. Actually, I might say, we got started. Don’t you feel the same drive, Charles?”
“I do not feel much regret, if that’s what you mean. For that matter, I do not feel much of anything after I lost Sally.” Charles replied plainly.
“Anything, except revenge?” Helena hissed. “If you are not interested in revenge, you’re pretty much done with life, Charles.”
“Revenge…” Charles echoed, “Did you ever quite manage to avenge George, Helena? I never managed to come up with an explanation about his death. I do not believe it was natural, but I was never able to find a clue, much less a culprit.”
“No, I didn’t. Lots of hints, but no clear evidence. Which, if what we have learned is correct, does not seem to be the case for Sally. You are lucky, Charles.”
Charles ignored the statement, and looked toward the main wing of the villa, at the end of the pool. The growing animation was a sign that the press conference was over and that Skip and his court were moving toward the patio and the pool.
“I really liked George. He might well have been the victim of the same plot that killed Sally.”
“Possibly, Charles, possibly,” Helena replied dismissively, “But you told me, you have never been able to get any evidence around George’s death, and neither did I. In any case, I would have managed it myself, anyway. I never let others retaliate on my behalf, if that’s what you are afraid of.”
“No, I am not afraid. Sally is reason enough to make a decision. Now, if you just excuse me, I need to talk to our President and I cannot miss the slot.”
Charles hastily shook hands, and left, without giving Helena the time to greet him properly. She considered whether she had to raise her tone to wave him goodbye, then she looked around at the patio, which was filling up with Secret Service agents, and gave up. She could see Charles walking straight to the President, at the other end of the pool.
The Last Enemy - A history of the present future - 1934-2084 Page 36
