One man and three women, none of whom was Martina.
__________
THEIR NAMES WERE Ava, Grace, Melody, and Diego. None had known each other before the outbreak, though Ava and Grace had found each other prior to making the journey to the survival station.
Diego had been there the longest, ten hours shy of two days. The women had all arrived a day later, Melody first, then Ava and Grace a few hours after that. Diego said there had been six others in the holding area when he arrived, but when he woke after his first night, they were gone. The person who brought the food told him all six had cleared their quarantine period, been inoculated, and sent on to one of the UN safe zones.
“The six who were here—was one of them a girl, about eighteen, named Martina?” Ben said.
Diego shook his head. “There were only two women. One was probably around forty, and the other had to be in her seventies.”
Ben felt defeated. He had been so sure he would find her here. Of course, if she had come as soon as the survival stations opened, she could have already moved on to this safe zone.
“Are there people in the other fenced-in area?” he asked.
“I saw someone in the big one next to us last night,” Grace said. “He didn’t look well, though.”
“I’ve seen a couple there, too,” Diego said. “None of them looked too good.”
“Makes sense,” Ben said. “Separate the sick from the healthy.”
“Don’t know about the small holding area, though,” Diego said.
“Small holding area?” Ben asked. He had only seen the two.
“It’s out in center field, but the fence is covered with a tarp so you can’t see in.”
“I’ve heard some voices from over there,” Melody said. “Couldn’t understand anything, though.”
“How many voices?”
“Three or four maybe.”
“Male or female?”
“Female, I think, but I can’t be sure.”
Though he knew he was grasping at straws, Ben couldn’t help but feel a resurgence of hope. “Have any of the guards told you what that area’s for?”
“They don’t say much. I was lucky just to get one of them to tell me what happened to the people who left,” Diego said.
“Have any of you tried to get out?” Ben asked.
“Get out?” Melody said. “Why would we want to get out?”
“Doesn’t it seem kind of weird for them to lock us up like this?”
“They’re trying to keep us safe,” Ava said. “After we pass our two days, we’ll get the shot and we can go.”
“But if they’re really trying to make sure we aren’t sick, wouldn’t they put each of us in our own room?” Ben said, adding, “If one of us turned out to be sick, we could infect the others. So what good would that do?”
He could see none of them had thought about it. Confusion began leaking into their expressions.
“No,” Ava said. “I’m sure they know what they’re doing. It’s the UN, for God’s sake. They’re trying to keep people alive, so why would they do something that would harm us?”
“I don’t know,” Ben said.
“Exactly my point. We just need to do our time and everything will be fine.”
The thought had come to Ben as he was sitting there, and he wasn’t sure he was right so he decided not to push it any further. Still, it troubled him.
The conversation fell into stories about what each of them had gone through to get there. After a while, Ben said he wanted to stretch his legs and went outside.
He walked slowly around the perimeter of his holding area. When he reached the point closest to the smaller enclosure out in center field, he stopped.
Like Diego had said, the fence was covered with a green tarp. Ben was willing to bet it’d been cut from the covering that was once used to protect the playing field from rain.
He turned his ear toward the other area but could hear no voices.
Facing the tarped enclosure once more, he cupped his hands around his mouth and said, “Martina?” Even as her name left his lips, he knew he wasn’t speaking loudly enough. He tried it again, raising his volume a bit. “Martina?”
No response.
“Martina?” he said, louder.
Nothing at all.
He was tempted to shout, but didn’t know how the guards would react if they heard him. Until he discovered otherwise, drawing attention to himself didn’t seem like a good idea.
“Martina,” he said one last time.
Silence.
16
WARD MOUNTAIN NORTH, NEVADA
5:19 PM PST
CALEB’S FIRST ATTEMPT to remotely control the equipment at the abandoned Mumbai survival station failed miserably.
“Son of a…” He looked back at Jesse, Devin, and Mya. “What the hell did you forget?”
“We didn’t forget anything,” Devin said.
“Well, that’s obviously not true or it would be working, wouldn’t it?”
“Maybe you messed up the schematic,” Jesse said.
Caleb leveled his gaze at him. “Not possible.”
“Who’s got it?” Mya asked. “Let me see it again.”
Devin retrieved the plans Caleb had sketched out and gave them to her.
She looked at it, following lines with her finger. She moved over to the equipment rack they’d put together and glanced from the paper to the actual item and back.
“Looks good to me,” she said, holding out the paper to Caleb.
“Of course it does,” he said, snatching it from her, sounding more confident than he felt.
“Must be on Arjun’s end,” Jesse said.
The Mumbai side of things was the weak link, Caleb knew. Unfortunately, he’d only been able to talk the Indian man through what to do and couldn’t see the work.
Caleb opened the phone application, switched on the external speaker, and dialed.
“We’re having a problem,” he said once Arjun was on the line.
“What type of problem?” Arjun asked.
“I’m not able to connect into the system there. I’m going to have Jesse talk you—”
“One moment, please,” Arjun said. “Are you saying you tried already?”
“Well, yeah,” Caleb said.
“The computer would then have to be on, yes?”
Caleb groaned and looked up at the trailer’s ceiling. “Yes, of course. Are you saying it’s not?”
“Naturally.”
Caleb could feel his frustration surge, but before he could say anything, Arjun spoke again.
“You were the one who told me to leave it off until you gave me the go-ahead. You have not done this yet.”
A laugh burst out of Devin, while Mya slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to contain her amusement.
“Oops,” Jesse said.
“I am sorry,” Arjun said. “I do not think I heard that correctly.”
“It was nothing,” Caleb said quickly. “I want you to go ahead and switch on the computer.”
“Stand by, please.”
“Nice one,” Devin whispered, holding out his hand like he wanted to give Caleb a fist bump.
Caleb glared at him. “Fine. I’m not perfect.”
“I’m sorry,” Mya said. “I don’t think we heard that correctly. Can you repeat that?”
“Go to hell. All of you.” He turned back to his terminal.
A few moments later, Arjun said, “The computer is cycling up, and…there we go. It is on and asking for a password.”
“All right. Let’s see if this thing’s working.” Caleb reinitiated the link between the systems.
Three seconds passed, then the message on his screen changed from ESTABLISHING CONNECTION to CONNECTION SUCCESSFUL.
Caleb and his team shouted in triumph.
“The password box has disappeared,” Arjun said. “Does that mean it is working now?”
“Damn straight, it does,” Caleb said. “Great job,
Arjun. Thank you. I’m going to hang up, but I need you to keep your phone with you in case anything comes up.”
“If I do not answer, Darshana or Sanjay will.”
“Sanjay’s there now?”
“He will be soon. He wanted to see for himself.”
__________
CALEB SPENT THE next hour familiarizing himself with the Project Eden operating system. When he finally felt he had a handle on things, he decided to see what else was out there.
“They’re definitely using encrypted voice transmission and e-mails. Looks like there are also some password-protected document-sharing sites.” He hunted through the code a bit more. “Oh, looks like they use a lot of video transmissions, too. There appears to be several conversations going on right now. Let’s see if we can eavesdrop on one, shall we?”
He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he attempted to gain access to the video feed. He managed to break in, but the image was far too scrambled for him to make anything out, and the audio was nothing more than pops and electronic echoes that were impossible to decipher.
“Let me take a look at that,” Devin said.
While Caleb thought highly of his own skills, he was well aware there were people far better at certain tasks than he. When it came to hacking through scrambled signals, few on the planet—even when there had still been seven billion others around—were better than Devin.
Caleb scooted out of the seat and Devin moved in.
After studying the signal for nearly a minute, Devin looked back at Mya. “Can you get me my laptop? My backpack’s over by the door.”
When she returned with it, he launched a program that looked a lot like a recording studio audio board, and then used the Bluetooth function to sync with Caleb’s machine. As he adjusted the sliding levers on the laptop, the video image began to come into focus.
There were two images side by side. A graying man with a mustache on the right and another man, perhaps ten years younger, on the left.
“That’s good enough for the video right now,” Caleb said. “Try fixing the audio.”
Devin changed a setting at the top of the laptop screen and manipulated the sliders again. At first there was little change, but then sounds much more human than the digital noise from before began to seep out. Finally—
“…tons per hundred,” the older man said.
“That syncs with what I have here,” the younger one replied. “Column B?”
“Second quarter. Four hundred thirty-five metric tons per hundred. Eighty-two-point-seven-five metric tons per hundred. Nine hundred twenty-three-point-two-five metric tons per hundred. Four hundred seventy-one—”
“Sounds like someone’s doing inventory,” Mya said.
“Let’s check some of the other signals,” Caleb said.
They eavesdropped on several other equally boring conversations for thirty minutes before hitting on one that sounded more interesting. It was between an older, distinguished-looking woman and a young, well-coiffed man.
“What is that?” Mya asked. “German?”
“Dutch, I think,” Jesse said.
“Do you understand it?” Caleb asked.
Jesse shook his head.
“Do any of you?”
More shakes.
To Caleb, this conversation sounded more important than a discussion about how many sacks of flour were sitting in a particular warehouse.
“We are recording this, right?” Caleb asked.
“Every second,” Devin said.
The conversation went on for another three minutes, then both parties signed off and the signal ended.
Caleb thought for a moment before turning to Mya. “Think you can find someone who can translate that?”
“I can try. Devin, put a copy in my dropbox.”
“Will do.”
As soon as Mya left, Caleb said, “All right. Let’s see what else we can find.”
__________
MYA THOUGHT IF anyone knew about a Dutch speaker among the Resistance at Ward Mountain, it would be Crystal, and, sure enough, she did. There were two Dutch speakers at the base—a German man named Jans Stephan who also spoke Dutch, and a Belgian named Ilse Vanduffel who spoke Flemish, which, according to Crystal, was a Dutch dialect.
Mya decided to seek out Ilse since she would be the native speaker. The woman was part of the Resistance’s security forces. Mya tracked her down in one of the workout rooms, where hand-to-hand combat training was taking place. When Mya entered, those inside stopped what they were doing and looked over at her.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “I’m looking for Ilse Vanduffel.”
A tall, lean, muscular woman with short brown hair broke from the crowd. “I’m Ilse.”
“I have a translation job I need your help with.”
Ilse looked a bit put out. “Is it urgent?”
“Very.” Mya wasn’t sure she had the authority to make that call, but what the hell?
After a nod from the man who appeared to be in charge, Ilse said, “What is it I can help you with?”
__________
THEY FOUND A computer in an unoccupied office down the hall from the workout room. Mya accessed her internal network dropbox and opened the video.
“What is this?” Ilse asked before Mya hit PLAY.
“A video call between two Project Eden members.”
Ilse’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
Mya clicked the arrow to start the video. She had expected Ilse to start telling her what was being said, but the woman silently watched the entire conversation, her expression unchanged throughout.
When it was finished, Mya said, “Well? It is Dutch, isn’t it? You understood it?”
Ilse continued to look at the screen for a few more seconds before she looked over. “I understood it.” She wet her lips. “Where is Captain Ash?”
“I don’t know exactly. Somewhere around.
“We need to find him.”
__________
SINCE CALEB WOULD want to know what was going on, Mya decided they would gather back in the communications trailer. She sent Ilse ahead and went in search of Captain Ash, finding him at a back table in the cafeteria, hunched over a couple of open books with Chloe. When Mya explained the situation, they both came with her.
“Finally!” Caleb said as Mya, Ash, and Chloe entered. He gestured toward Ilse, who was sitting on a chair against the trailer wall. “Will you tell this woman it’s okay to share with us what she knows?”
“Your charm didn’t work on her?” Mya asked, smirking.
“All she said was that she’d come to tell us what the message meant, and then she promptly sat down and shut up.”
“She told me Captain Ash should hear it, too.”
Caleb spread his hands, palms up. “And telling a story twice has never happened in the whole history of mankind?”
“Cool it,” Ash said. “I’m here now, so we can get on with it.”
“Ilse,” Mya said. “Go ahead.”
Ilse stood up. “Can we play the message here?”
Mya shot a look across the room. “Devin?”
“Two seconds.”
The trailer had no large screen like in the comm room, but there was a medium-sized HD monitor at the empty station next to where Devin was sitting. Within seconds, it filled with a still image of the recorded video conversation.
Before Devin could click PLAY, Ilse said, “One moment.” She walked over to the screen and pointed. “This man is Dutch. If I have to guess, I would say he was from Amsterdam or very nearby. The woman refers to him as van Assen. That would be his surname. She never says his entire name. The woman is not Dutch nor is she Flemish. While she speaks Dutch very well, it is not her native language. By her accent, I would say she is possibly English, but more likely American or Canadian.”
“Is her name mentioned?” Ash asked.
“He calls her only Director.” She looked at Devin.
“Please start.”
As the video played, Ilse gave a running translation.
DIRECTOR: …as you promise.
VAN ASSEN: So my file?
DIRECTOR: Contains a commendation for your work in Mumbai, and clears you of any responsibility for what occurred.
VAN ASSEN: I very much appreciate that, Director. Thank you.
DIRECTOR: You earned it, so no need for any thanks.
VAN ASSEN: My new assignment starts in a few hours, so I won’t bother you any longer.
DIRECTOR: There has been a change of plans.
VAN ASSEN: Change?
DIRECTOR: You will not be joining the transition division in Madrid.
VAN ASSEN: I won’t? Then where do I report?
DIRECTOR: You will be reporting directly to me.
VAN ASSEN: Oh. Thank you, Director. I’m honored. I will arrange transportation and can be there as early as tomorrow.
DIRECTOR: Hold on. You will be reporting to me, but you will not be coming here. I’m sending you back to India.
VAN ASSEN: What?
DIRECTOR: There is a new…structure in place. One I am part of. But if I am going to do my job effectively, I need to keep an eye on my colleagues. You will be my eyes in Jaipur. You are to proceed to NB551, where you will fill an opening on Director Parkash Mahajan’s staff. While you carry out your daily duties for the director, you will keep me informed on the director’s activities. I assume this is not outside your abilities.”
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