by Robin Cook
Suzanne wasn’t sure she could blame her decision to allow him to stay on the small amount of crystal she’d drunk or whether it was simply Garona’s handsome looks and winning flattery. As much as she hated to admit it, when it came to men, physical attractiveness was important to her. In fact, it had been part of the reason she’d remained mired in a volatile relationship with an actor back in L.A. long after it had ceased to be healthy.
As if sensing her gaze, Garona opened his dark, liquid eyes and smiled dreamily. It was difficult for Suzanne to feel much regret.
“I’m sorry if I woke you,” Suzanne managed. He was as handsome in the first light of day as he’d been the night before.
“Please, don’t be sorry,” Garona said. “I appreciate being awakened to see that I am still with you.”
“How is it you always say the right thing?” Suzanne said. She was being sincere, not sarcastic.
“I say what I would like to be told,” Garona said.
Suzanne nodded. It was a sensible variation of the Golden Rule.
Garona rolled toward her and tried to envelop Suzanne in an embrace. Suzanne ducked under his arm and slid off the bed.
“Please, Garona,” Suzanne said. “Let’s not replay last night. Not now.”
Garona flopped back onto the bed and stared up at Suzanne.
“I don’t understand your reluctance,” he said. “Could it be that you don’t care for me?”
Suzanne groaned audibly. “Oh, Garona, for all your sophistication and sensitivity, I can’t imagine why this is so hard for you to grasp. As I told you last night, it takes me a little time to get to know someone.”
“What do you need to know?” Garona questioned. “You can ask me any personal question you like.”
“Look,” Suzanne said. “I certainly care for you. Just letting you stay here is a testament to that. It’s not usual for me when I’ve known someone for such a short time. But I did let you stay, and I’m glad I did. But you can’t expect too much from me. Think of everything I’m trying to take in.”
“But it’s unnatural,” Garona said. “Your emotions should not be so contingent.”
“I disagree!” Suzanne remarked. “It’s called self-protection. I can’t go around allowing spur-of-the-moment desires to dictate my behavior. And it should be the same for you. After all, you don’t know anything about me. Maybe I have a husband or a lover.”
“I assume you do,” Garona said. “In fact, I would be surprised if you didn’t. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”
“That’s nice.” Suzanne put her hands defiantly on her hips. “It doesn’t matter to you, but what about me?” Suzanne stopped herself. She reached up and rubbed her sleep-filled eyes. She was getting herself all worked up, and she’d only been awake for a few minutes.
“Let’s not discuss any of this right now,” Suzanne said. “This day is going to be challenging enough. Arak has promised to answer our questions, and believe me, I have a lot.” She walked over to one of the many mirrors and cautiously moved into the line of sight of her image. She grimaced at the reflection. Her mind might have been in a turmoil, but there was one thing she knew for certain: she did not look her best in inch-long hair.
Putting his legs over the edge of the bed, Garona sat up and stretched. “You second-generation humans are so serious.”
“I don’t know what you mean by ‘second generation’,” Suzanne said. “But I think I have reason to be serious. After all, I didn’t come here on my own accord. As Donald said, we’ve been abducted. And I don’t have to remind you that means being carried off by force.”
As he had promised, Arak showed up just after the group had eaten breakfast and asked if everyone was ready for the didactic session. Perry and Suzanne were demonstrably eager, Donald less so, and Richard and Michael completely uninterested. In fact, they acted tense and subdued, hardly their normal brazen selves. Perry assumed they were suffering from hangovers and suggested as much to Suzanne.
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Suzanne responded. “As drunk as they were it stands to reason. How do you feel?”
“Great,” Perry said. “All things considered. It was an interesting evening. How about your friend, Garona. Did he stay long?”
“For a while,” Suzanne said evasively. “How about Luna?”
“The same,” Perry said. Neither one looked the other in the eye.
As soon as the group was ready, Arak led them across the lawn toward a hemispherical structure similar to the pavilion although on a much smaller scale. Perry and Suzanne kept up with Arak. Donald lagged a few steps behind and Richard and Michael even more so.
“I still think you should tell Donald,” Michael insisted in a whisper. “He might have an idea about what to do.”
“What the hell is that bastard going to do?” Richard responded. “The kid’s dead. Fuller’s not going to bring him back to life.”
“Maybe he’ll have a better idea where to put the body,” Michael said. “I’m worried about the kid being found. I mean, I don’t want you to find out what they do down here to murderers.”
Richard stopped short. “What do you mean, me?”
“Hey, you killed him,” Michael said.
“You hit him, too,” Richard said.
“But I didn’t kill him,” Michael said. “And the whole thing was your idea.”
Richard glowered at his friend. “We’re in this together, dirtbag. It’s your room. Whatever happens to me is going to happen to you. Plain as day.”
“Come on, you two,” Arak called. He was holding open a door to the small hemispherical, windowless structure. The other members of the group were standing to the side and looking back in the divers’ direction.
“Regardless,” Michael whispered nervously, “the point is that the body is hardly hidden. You got to ask Donald if he can think of a better place for it. He might be an ex-officer asshole, but he’s smart.”
“Okay,” Richard said reluctantly.
The two divers quickened their pace and caught up to the others. Arak smiled congenially and then entered the building followed by Suzanne and Perry. As Donald crossed the threshold Richard gave his sleeve a tug. Donald snatched his arm away and glared back at Richard, but kept walking.
“Hey, Commander Fuller!” Richard whispered. “Hold up a second.”
Donald glanced briefly over his shoulder, treated Richard to a contemptuous look, and continued walking. Arak was leading them along a curved, windowless corridor.
“I wanted to apologize about last night,” Richard said, catching up to Donald so that he was walking right behind him.
“For what?” Donald asked scornfully. “Being stupid, being drunk, or allowing yourself to be duped by these people?”
Richard bit his lower lip before responding. “Maybe all three. We were bombed out of our gourds. But that’s not the reason I want to talk to you.”
Donald stopped short. Richard all but collided with him. Michael did bump into Richard.
“What is it, sailor?” Donald demanded in a no-nonsense voice. “Make it on the double. We’ve got an interesting talk ahead of us that I don’t want to miss.”
“Well, it’s just that . . .” Richard began, but then he stumbled over his words, unsure of how to begin. Contrary to his early braggadocio, he was intimidated by Donald.
“Come on, sailor,” Donald snapped. “Out with it.”
“Michael and I think we better get the hell out of Interterra,” Richard said.
“Oh, that’s very intelligent of you boneheads,” Donald said. “I suppose this sudden epiphany just occurred to you this morning. Well, perhaps I should remind you that we don’t know where the hell we are until Arak decides to tell us. So once we’ve learned that, maybe we can talk again.” Donald made a motion to leave. Richard grabbed his arm out of desperation. Donald glared down at Richard’s hand. “Let go of me before I lose complete control.”
“But—” Richard said.
“Can it, sailor!” Dona
ld snapped, cutting off the conversation and yanking his arm away from Richard. He walked briskly ahead and ducked through a door at the end of the corridor in pursuit of the others.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell him?” Michael demanded in an irritated whisper.
“You didn’t tell him either,” Richard pointed out.
“Yeah, because you said you’d do the talking,” Michael said. He threw up his hands in frustration. “Some talking! My grandmother could have done a better job. Now we’re back where we started. And you’ve got to admit, that body’s not in the world’s best hiding place. What if they find it?”
Richard shuddered. “I hate to think. But it was the best we could do under the circumstances.”
“Maybe we should just stay in the room,” Michael suggested.
“That’s not going to solve anything,” Richard said. “Come on! Let’s at least find out where we are so we can figure out how to get the hell out.”
The two men followed Donald and found themselves in a futuristic, circular room thirty feet in diameter with a domed ceiling. There were no windows. A single row of a dozen molded seats surrounded a dark, slightly convex central area.
Arak and Sufa were sitting directly opposite the entrance, in seats with consoles built into their arms. To Arak and Sufa’s immediate right were two people the divers had never seen before. Although this couple was dressed in the usual white, they were not as attractive as the other Interterrans. Suzanne and Perry were seated to Arak and Sufa’s left. Donald was to the far right, sitting by himself with lots of empty seats between him and the others.
“Please, Richard, Michael,” Arak called out. “Take your seats. Anyplace you’d like. And then we’ll begin.”
Richard made it a point to pass several empty seats to take one next to Donald. Richard nodded to him, but Donald responded by shifting his weight away from the diver. Michael took the seat next to Richard.
“Welcome again to Interterra,” Arak said. “Today we are going to challenge your intellects in a very positive way. And in the process you will soon learn how very lucky you all are.”
“How about starting by telling us when we’ll be heading home?” Richard said.
“Shut the hell up!” Donald growled.
Arak laughed. “Richard, I do appreciate your spontaneity and impulsiveness, but be patient.”
“First we’d like to introduce everyone to two of our distinguished citizens,” Sufa said. “I’m certain you will find talking with them extremely helpful since they, like yourselves, have come from the surface world. May I present Ismael and Mary Black.”
The couple stood for a moment and bowed. Michael clapped from habit but immediately stopped when he realized he was the only one doing so. Suzanne and Perry regarded the couple with wide-eyed curiosity.
“Mary and I would like to extend our welcome as well,” Ismael said. He was a rather tall man with gaunt, hatchetlike features and deeply set eyes. “We are here because we have experienced what you are about to experience, and because of that we may be able to help. As for a general suggestion, I would encourage you at this point not to try to absorb too much too quickly.”
Michael leaned over to Richard and whispered, “Do you think he’s referring to that fabulous hand cream stuff we used last night?”
“Shut up!” Donald snapped, emphasizing each word. “If you men keep interrupting, I want you to move away from me.”
“All right already,” Michael said.
“Thank you, Ismael,” Arak said. Then looking at each of the visitors in turn he added, “I hope you will all take advantage of the Blacks’ offer. We feel that a division of labor will be helpful. Sufa and I will be available for informational issues whereas adjustment issues will be best handled by Ismael and Mary.”
Suzanne leaned over to Perry. There was a new look of concern on her face. “What does he mean, ‘adjustment issues’? How long do you think they intend to keep us here?”
“I don’t know,” Perry whispered back. He’d been struck by the same implication.
“Before we begin I would like to present each of you with a telecommunicator and an eyepiece,” Sufa said. She opened a box that she’d brought to the meeting and lifted out five small parcels, each with a name printed in bold letters across the top. Carrying them in her arms she walked around the room and handed them out to the designated recipients. Richard and Michael tore theirs open like kids attacking Christmas presents. Suzanne and Perry opened theirs with care. Donald let his sit unopened on his lap.
“It’s like a pair of glasses and a wristwatch without a face,” Michael said. He was disappointed. He tried on the glasses. They were aerodynamically shaped with clear lenses.
“It’s a telecommunicator system,” Sufa said. “They are voice activated, and each is mated to your individual voices, so they are not interchangeable. We’ll be showing you how to use them later.”
“What do they do?” Richard asked. He tried the glasses on as well.
“Just about everything,” Sufa said. “They connect with central sources whose information will be displayed virtually through the glasses. They also provide communication with anyone else in Interterra by sight and sound. They even do such mundane things as call air taxis, but more about them later.”
“Let’s get started,” Arak said. He touched the pad on the console in front of him and the darkened convex area turned a phosphorescent blue.
“The first thing we must talk about is the concept of time,” Arak said. “This is perhaps the most difficult subject for people like yourselves to grasp because here in Interterra time is not the immutable construct it appears to be on the earth’s surface. Your scientist, Mr. Einstein, recognized the relativity of time in the sense that it depends on one’s position of observation. Here in Interterra you will confront many examples of such relativity. The simplest, for example, is the age of our civilization. From the perspective of earth surface references, our civilization is incredibly ancient, whereas from our reference point and those of the rest of the solar system, it is not. Your civilization is measured in terms of millennia, ours in millions, and the solar system in billions.”
“Oh, for chrissake,” Richard complained. “Do we have to sit through all this? I thought you were going to tell us where the hell we are.”
“Unless you comprehend the basics,” Arak said, “what I’m going to be telling you will be unbelievable, even meaningless.”
“Why not work backwards,” Richard said. “Tell us where we are and then the other stuff.”
“Richard!” Suzanne snapped. “Be still!”
Richard rolled his eyes for Michael’s benefit. Michael showed his impatience by uncrossing and recrossing his legs.
“Time is not a constant,” Arak continued. “As I said, your clever scientist Mr. Einstein recognized this, but where he made his mistake was thinking that the speed of light was the upper boundary of motion. It is not the case, although it takes a huge quanta of focused energy to break the boundary. A good analogy from everyday life is the extra amount of energy necessary for a phase change that takes a solid to a liquid or a liquid to a gas. Pushing an object beyond the speed of light is like a phase change into a dimension where time is plastic and related only to space.”
“Good grief,” Richard blurted. “Is this a joke?”
Donald stood up and took a seat far from the two divers.
“Try to be patient,” Arak said. “And concentrate on time not being a constant. Think about it! If time is truly relative then it can be controlled, manipulated, and changed. Which brings us to the concept of death. Listen carefully! On the earth’s surface death has been a necessary adjunct of evolution, and evolution the only justification of death. But once evolution has evolved to create a sensate, cognitive being, death is not only not needed, it is a waste.”
At the mention of death Richard and Michael sank lower into their seats. Perry raised his hand. Arak immediately acknowledged him.
“Are
we permitted to ask questions?” Perry asked.
“Absolutely,” Arak said agreeably. “This is to be more of a seminar than a lecture. But I ask you only to question what I have already said and not question what you believe I am about to say.”
“You talked about measuring time,” Perry said. “Did you mean to imply that your civilization, as you put it, predates our civilization on the earth’s surface?”
“Indeed,” Arak said. “And by a quantum of time almost incomprehensible to your experience. Our Interterran recorded history goes back almost six hundred million years.”
“Get out of here!” Richard scoffed. “That’s impossible. This is all a bunch of bull crap. That’s older than the dinosaurs.”
“Much older than your dinosaurs,” Arak agreed. “And your disbelief is entirely understandable. That is why we go slowly with this introduction to Interterra. I don’t mean to belabor the point, but it is far easier to adapt to your present reality in stages.”
“That’s all well and good,” Richard announced. “But how about some proof for all this baloney. I’m starting to think this whole setup is an elaborate put-on, and frankly, I’m not interested in sitting here wasting time.”
Neither Donald nor Suzanne complained about Richard’s current interruption. Both were harboring similar thoughts although Suzanne certainly would not have worded her skepticism so rudely. Arak, however, was unfazed.
“All right,” Arak said patiently. “We will provide some proof that you can relate to your civilization’s history. Our civilization has been observing and recording the progress of your second-generation human civilization since the time of your evolution.”
“What do you mean exactly by second-generation human?” Suzanne asked.
“That will be apparent shortly,” Arak said. “First, let’s show you some interesting images. As I said, we have been observing your civilization’s progress, and until about fifty years ago we could do so at will. Since then your increasing technological sophistication has limited our surveillance to avoid detection. In fact, we have stopped using most of our old-fashioned exit ports, like the one used to admit you to Interterra or the one at Barsama, our sister city to the west. Both were ordered to be sealed with magma, but worker clone bureaucratic ineptitude has stalled the execution of the decree.”