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“Um… Atlantis?” Perplexed, at first he thought she must be referring to the island’s eerie Neolithic history, or the haunting monoliths to be found there. Then he remembered. “Oh. The space shuttle that crashed long ago. Is it still there?”
Teresa Tikhana’s jaw tightened briefly. “It didn’t crash. Captain Iwasumi made a perfect emergency landing under impossible conditions. It was the fools in charge of bringing Atlantis home… they dropped her.”
It must have happened when she was only a child, yet the woman covered her eyes in pain. “She’s still down there, stripped, a shell. A monument on a pedestal. You should visit her if you get the chance.”
“I’ll do that. I promise.”
She looked up. Their eyes met briefly, then Teresa sighed. “I’d better pack. Dr. Goldman and I have a plane to catch.”
“Of course.” He stood up. “I… I’m glad you’re with us, Captain Tikhana. Your help is going to be vital.” Alex paused. “Also… as I said. I’m so very sorry about your husband—”
She raised a hand, cutting off another embarrassing apology. “It was an accident. If anyone’s to blame for blindness — for not picking up on what was happening…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “We’ll drop you a coded message when we get to Godhavn, Dr. Lustig.”
“Have a safe trip, Captain.” Hesitantly, he offered his hand. After a moment, she took it. Her slim, calloused grip betrayed a single faint tremor before she quickly let go again. Then she turned away, departing for her quarters in another part of the cave.
“And good luck,” Alex added softly after she had gone. “We’re all going to need more than a little of that, too.”
□ World Net News: Cha
“Central Amazonia. This is Nigel Landsbury reporting in real time for the BBC. I’ve come here to this desolate land to cover a scene both tragic and historic, as Brazilian national forces pursue Tupo rebels to their last redoubts.
[Image of desert. Scrub bush and cracked clay. Heat waves rise from the hardpan all the way to a blurry horizon. A reporter’s voice carries over the sound of crackling burning]
[□ For raw footage voice-link “AMAZONIA One” now.]
“Here an armed detachment of FLS fighters was caught an hour ago, just short of the edge of the Chico Mendes National Salvation Park …”
[□ For background reports, link “FLS REBELS” or “CHICO MENDES PARK.”]
[Camera pans, and viewer suddenly sees smoke rising from burning vehicles surrounded by strewn bodies. Military helicopters shred the plumes as uniformed soldiers hustle past, prodding prisoners with hands on their heads.]
“The campesinos who died or were captured here today could not have hidden for long in their rain-forest refuge. The sensor technology [□ link “SENSOR-TEK”] that cuts short so many would-be guerrilla movements nowadays would be no less effective under the canopy. Their cause was lost as soon as it turned violent, with the massacre of the last Quich’hara Indian village, two weeks ago.”
[Still pa
“But there is a further, ultimate irony… that this forest the rebels wanted to claim for their impoverished families… their paradise for escape from the strict regimen of the crowded urban poor… is doomed anyway. Yesterday, the Brazilian government admitted the failure of the “preservation islands” approach to saving Amazonia, recognizing at last that you ca
[Closeup on the reporter’s face, awash with memory of tragedy]
[□ Report: Braz. Nat. WeRe 6309467/q/3509.]
[□ Rebuttal: NorAChuGa 2038-421/Pres. Isl.]
“Contracts have already been signed to harvest the dying hardwoods of Chico Mendes Park, removal of the large animals to life arks, and cryosuspension of as many insect and plant seed types as can be catalogued in time. This systematic approach, tested last year with some small success in Manaus Province, has never before been tried on such a vast scale. Experts doubt more than five percent of the remaining species can be registered before harvesters must complete their .work.”
[Closeup of the forest edge… yellowed leaves crumble to dust in a human hand.]
[□ Contract: Braz. Nat. PaRe 9867984/i/567.]
[□ Contract: Life Ark 62 LeSs 2393808/k/78.]
“Still, what is to be done? How can you keep alive a rain forest where there is no rain?”
[□ Link WEATHERNET ALPHA-YEAR SUMMARY 2037 — 2956a*.]
[Cut back to the resigned features of the reporter.]
“’Transpiration, evaporation, humidity renewal… science can give names to all the reasons why the preservation islands plan failed. Some blame the worldwide warming. Whatever the reason, however, it is we who must live with what remains. And it is the poor who in the end are caught in the middle.”
[Camera returns to the scene of burning. One dusty corpse, arms outstretched toward the supposed refuge of the forest, can be seen clutching a single green leaf.]
[□ Real-time image NorSat 12. $1.12/minute.]
“This is Nigel Landsbury… reporting from Amazonia. ”
[Reporter looks upward, and the camera follows his gaze to a sky dun with floating dust.]
[□ Reporter bio: N.LANDSBURY-BBC3. Credibility ratings: AaAb-2 Viewer’s Union (2038). AaBb-4, World Watchers Ltd. (2038).]
• MESOSPHERE
Stan Goldman watched Auntie Kapur stir the fire with a crooked stick. A mist of ash lifted in its wake, and the coals brightened briefly to compete with the old woman’s blue-flickering computer display. Beyond those twin pools of light, the ocher columns of the meeting house melted into moist shadows of a New Zealand mountain forest. Auntie preferred this setting for their final meeting before everyone dispersed to Earth’s four corners. Begi
“That’s good,” Stan said. He rubbed his eyes, blaming exhaustion and bits of drifting ash for the stinging. It was long past his normal bedtime — as if anything were “normal” anymore. But at least Ellen would be waiting up for him, and he hoped to salvage something of their last night together.
“That island’s the anchor point,” he went on. “Site one has to be there, with no allowance for error.”
“Then it’s agreed, that’s where Alex must go,” George Hutton said.
Stan nodded. “Of course. Alex should get the safest site, and the one where the most delicate control is needed, since only he truly understands that thing down there.”
“Do not count on Rapa Nui being safe.” Meriana Kapur regarded Stan severely. “It is an island of awful power. A place of death and horrible old gods. I agree Lustig must be the one to go there, to that focal point. But not because it is safe.”
Auntie had a way of making statements one could not answer. Stan glanced at George and saw his friend nod reverently. As a pakeha kiwi — a white New Zealander, and one who hadn’t even been born here — Stan felt it wiser simply to defer to the Maori when they spoke of such things.
“Very well. We still have to finalize the teams to go set up the other three resonators.”