Abduction

by Robin Cook

  “This place is getting weirder by the minute,” Richard mumbled to Michael as they skirted the pool.

  “You can say that again,” Michael said. “No wonder they didn’t care when I took the gold goblets last night. Nothing belongs to nobody. I’m telling you, we could make a fortune down here, and they wouldn’t care.”

  Along with food, the worker clones had brought a folding table, which they’d placed in the center of a ring of seven contour chairs. Arak and the divers joined the others. Sark climbed the back of Arak’s chair and began scratching behind his ears. Everyone helped themselves to the food and started eating.

  “Well, here’s where we spend most of our time,” Arak said after a short awkward silence. He sensed the secondary humans were a bit confounded by the day’s events. “Does anyone have any questions for us?”

  “What do you do here?” Suzanne asked to make conversation. She was happier to stick to small talk rather than tackle the larger issues swimming in her head.

  “We enjoy our bodies and our minds,” Arak explained. “We read a lot and watch a lot of holographic entertainment.”

  “Don’t people work in Interterra?” Perry asked.

  “Some people do,” Arak said. “But it is not necessary, and those who do, only do what they want to do. All menial work, which most work is, is done by worker clones. All monitory and regulatory work is done by Central Information. Thus, people are free to pursue their own interests.”

  “Don’t the worker clones mind?” Donald asked. “Don’t they ever strike or revolt?”

  “Heavens, no,” Arak said with a smile. “Clones are like . . . well, like your domestic pets. They were made to look like humans for esthetic reasons, but their brains are much smaller. They have limited forebrain function so their needs and interests are different. They love to work and serve.”

  “Sounds like exploitation,” Perry said.

  “I suppose,” Arak said. “But that is what machines are for, like automobiles in your culture, which I don’t believe you feel you exploit. The analogy would be better if your automobiles had living parts as well as machine parts. I’m sure you have to use your cars or they’d deteriorate. Same with worker clones, only it’s leisure they cannot tolerate. They become despondent and regress without work and direction.”

  “It is uncomfortable for us,” Suzanne said. “Since they appear so human.”

  “You have to remind yourself that they are not,” Sufa said.

  “Are there different types of clones?” Perry asked.

  “They all look essentially the same,” Arak said. “But there are servant, worker, and entertainment clones, male and female. It’s in the programming.”

  “With your technology, why not use robots?” Donald asked.

  “A good question,” Arak said. “We had androids ages ago; a whole line of them, in fact. But pure machines tend to break down and have to be fixed. We had to have androids to fix androids ad infinitum. It was inconvenient, even ridiculous. It wasn’t until we learned to wed the biological with the mechanical that we solved the problem. The ultimate result of this research and development was worker clones, and they are far superior to any android. They take care of themselves completely, even to the point of repairing themselves and reproducing to keep their population in a steady state.”

  “Amazing,” Perry said simply. Suzanne nodded.

  The group fell silent. When they were through with their food Sufa said, “I think perhaps it’s time to take you all back to your quarters at the visitors’ palace. You need some time to process what you’ve seen and heard. Also, we don’t want to overburden you on your first day. There is always tomorrow.” She smiled benignly as she stood up.

  “You’re right about needing some time,” Suzanne said, getting to her feet as well. “I think I’ve been a bit overburdened already. Without an ounce of doubt, this has been the most startling, staggering, and stunning day of my life.”

  Michael hesitated at the door to his cottage. Richard was standing directly behind him. They just had been dropped off by Arak and Sufa.

  “What do you think we’re going to find?” Michael asked.

  “For chrissake!” Richard complained. “How am I supposed to know until you open the goddamn door?”

  Michael grasped the handle and pulled. The two divers stepped over the threshold and glanced around the room.

  “Do you think anybody was here?” Michael questioned nervously.

  Richard rolled his eyes. “What do think, birdbrain?” he said. “The bed’s made and the place has been picked up. Look, somebody even stacked all the dishes and the goblets you lugged back from the gala and the dining hall.”

  “Maybe it was just the clones,” Michael said.

  “It’s possible,” Richard said.

  “Do you think the body is still there where we put it?”

  “Well, we sure as shootin’ ain’t going to know until we look,” Richard said.

  “All right, I’ll see.”

  “Hold on!” Richard said, grabbing Michael’s arm. “Let me make sure the coast is clear.”

  Richard looked around beyond the pool and was quickly satisfied. No one was near, and he rejoined his buddy. “Okay, check the body.”

  Michael hastily positioned himself in front of the cabinets opposite the bed. “Drinks, please!” he commanded. The refrigerator door swung open. It was crammed full of various containers of beverage and food.

  “It looks like the way we left it,” Michael said.

  “That’s encouraging,” Richard said.

  Michael bent down and removed several containers exposing Sart’s pale face. The lifeless eyes stared back at Michael accusingly. Michael quickly jammed the containers back to hide the horrid image. Sart’s was the first dead body Michael had seen other than his grandfather’s corpse. But his grandfather had been laid out in a casket in a tuxedo. Besides, the old man had been ninety-four.

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Richard said.

  “For now,” Michael said. “But it doesn’t mean they might not find him tonight or tomorrow. Maybe we should take him out and bury him in one of those clumps of fern.”

  “What are we going to dig with, teaspoons?” Richard asked.

  “Then maybe we should carry him over to your cottage and put him in your refrigerator. It gives me the creeps having him here.”

  “We’re not going to take the chance carrying him around,” Richard said. “He stays where he is.”

  “Then let’s swap rooms,” Michael suggested. “Remember, you killed him, not me.”

  Richard’s eyes narrowed threateningly. “We already had this conversation,” he said slowly. “And it was decided: we’re in this together. Now shut the hell up about the body.”

  “What about telling Fuller?” Michael said.

  “Nah,” Richard said. “I changed my mind about that.”

  “How come?”

  “Because that straight arrow nerd’s not going to have any better idea of what to do with the body. And I don’t think we have to be so worried. Hell, nobody has even asked about the twerp all day today. Besides, Arak said they don’t have any prisons.”

  “That’s because they don’t have any thievery,” Michael snapped. “Arak didn’t say anything about murder, and with all that stuff they showed us about mind extraction, I have a bad feeling they’ll be pretty upset about it. We might get ourselves recycled, like Reesta.”

  “Hey, calm down!” Richard said.

  “How can I calm down with a dead body in my refrigerator?” Michael yelled.

  “Shut the hell up,” Richard yelled back. Then in a lower voice he added, “Jeez, everybody in the neighborhood is going to hear you. Get control of yourself. The main thing is to get our asses out of here ASAP. Meanwhile Sart’s in the cooler, which is going to keep him from stinking up the joint. We’ll think about moving him if someone starts nosing around and asking about him. Okay?”

  “I suppose,” Michael said but with
out much enthusiasm.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The ceiling of the subterranean cavern darkened gradually, mimicking a normal evening just as it had the previous night. Suzanne and Perry, marveling how much the vaulted roof looked like sky, watched in awe as the pseudo stars began to blink on in the purple twilight. The ever glum Donald in contrast was staring morosely at the darkening shadows beneath the fern thickets. All three were standing on the lawn about forty feet away from the open end of the dining room. Inside, worker clones were busily laying out the dinner. Richard and Michael were already in their chairs eager for food.

  “This is absolutely amazing,” Suzanne said. She was craning her neck to look straight up.

  “The bioluminescent stars?” Perry questioned.

  “Everything,” Suzanne said. “Including the stars.” She’d just joined the others from her quarters, where she’d taken a swim, bathed, and had even tried to take a nap. But sleep had been impossible. She had too much on her mind.

  “There are some astounding aspects,” Donald admitted.

  “I can’t think of anything that’s not,” Suzanne said. She looked across the lawn at the dark hall of the pavilion where the gala had been held the previous evening. “Starting with the fact that this spacious paradise is buried in the earth under the ocean. How strange that I mentioned Jules Vernes’s Voyage to the Center of the Earth back when we were starting our dive, since now we’re actually here.”

  Perry chuckled. “Pretty apropos.”

  “Apropos and mind-boggling,” Suzanne added. “Especially now that it appears everything Arak and Sufa have been telling us is true, no matter how fantastic it all seems.”

  “It is hard to deny the technology we’re seeing,” Perry said animatedly. “I can hardly wait to learn more of the details—like the biomechanics of the worker clones or the secrets of the air taxis. Patents on any of this could make us all billionaires. And what about tourism? Can you imagine what the demand for coming down here will be? It’s going to be off the charts.” Perry chuckled again. “One way or the other, Benthic Marine is going to become the Microsoft of the new century.”

  “Arak’s revelations are extraordinary,” Donald agreed grudgingly. “But there are a couple of important gaps that you bedazzled people seem to be forgetting.”

  “What are you talking about?” Perry questioned.

  “Take off the rose-colored glasses,” Donald said. “As far as I’m concerned, the overarching question hasn’t even come up: What are we doing here? We weren’t saved from drowning from a wrecked schooner like the Blacks. We were purposefully and deliberately sucked into their so-called exit port, and I’d like to know why.”

  “Donald’s right,” Suzanne said, suddenly thoughtful. “In the excitement, I keep forgetting we are, after all, victims of an abduction. That certainly does beg the question of what we are doing here.”

  “They are certainly treating us well,” Perry said.

  “For the moment,” Donald said. “But as I said before it could change in the blink of an eye. I don’t think you people realize how vulnerable we are.”

  “I know how vulnerable we are,” Perry said with a touch of irritation. “Hell, as advanced as these people are, they could snuff us out in an instant. Arak talked about interplanetary travel, even galactic travel and time technology. But they like us. It’s apparent to me even if it isn’t to you. I think we should be more appreciative and not so paranoid.”

  “Like us, my foot,” Donald spat. “We’re entertaining to them. How many times have they told us that? They find our primitiveness funny or cute, sort of like a house pet. Well, I’m tired of being laughed at.”

  “They wouldn’t be treating us this well unless they liked us,” Perry persisted.

  “You are so naive,” Donald said. “You refuse to remember that we’re prisoners, for all intents and purposes, who have been forcibly kidnapped and manipulated in that decon center. We were brought here for a reason that has yet to be revealed.”

  Suzanne nodded. Donald’s remarks reminded her of an offhand comment of Arak’s that had given her the impression he’d been anticipating her arrival. She’d found the comment unsettling at the time, but then it had gotten buried by other more astonishing disclosures.

  “Maybe they’re recruiting us,” Perry said suddenly.

  “For what?” Donald asked dubiously.

  “Maybe they’re making such an effort to show us everything to prepare us to be their representatives,” Perry said, warming to the idea as he spoke. “Maybe they have finally decided it’s time to relate to our world, and they want us to be ambassadors. Frankly, I think we could do a damn good job, especially if we handled it through Benthic Marine.”

  “Ambassadors!” Suzanne repeated. “That’s an interesting idea! They are not fond of going through the adaptation to our atmosphere because of their lack of immunity to our bacteria and viruses, and they don’t like the decon process necessary to return to Interterra either.”

  “Exactly,” Perry said. “If we were their representatives they wouldn’t have to do any of that.”

  “Ambassadors? Good god!” Donald mumbled. He threw up his hands and shook his head in frustration.

  “What’s the matter now?” Perry asked, his irritation returning. Donald was beginning to get on his nerves.

  “I knew you two were optimists,” Donald grunted, “but this ambassador idea takes the cake.”

  “I think it is a perfectly reasonable possibility,” Perry said.

  “Listen, Mr. President of Benthic Marine!” Donald spat as if the appellation were derogatory. “These Interterrans don’t plan to let us go. If you weren’t such a hopeless optimist you’d understand that.”

  Suzanne and Perry were silent as they mulled over Donald’s comment. The issue was something neither had wanted to think about much less discuss.

  “You feel that they plan to keep us here forever?” Suzanne asked finally. She had to admit that nothing either Arak or Sufa had said had indicated a plan to return them to their ship back upon the ocean’s surface.

  “I believe that’s what it means if they never let us go,” Donald said sarcastically.

  “But why?” Perry pleaded. The anger had gone out of his voice.

  “It stands to reason,” Donald said. “These people have been avoiding detection of Interterra for thousands of years. How could they feel good about letting us return to the surface knowing what we know?”

  “Oh dear!” Suzanne whispered.

  “Do you think Donald’s right?” Perry asked.

  “I’m afraid he has a point,” Suzanne said. “There’s no reason they would be less worried about contamination now than in the past. And with our advancing technology there’s reason they should be more worried. They might be entertained by our primitiveness but I’d suspect they’re terrified of our culture’s violence.”

  “But they keep referring to us as visitors,” Perry interjected. “This place we’re staying is called the visitors’ palace. Visitors don’t stay forever.” Then, irrationally, he added, “Besides, I can’t stay here forever. I’ve got a family. I mean, I’m already worried that I haven’t been able to let them know I’m okay.”

  “That’s another point,” Donald said. “They know a lot about us. They know about our families. With all their technology they could have offered to us an opportunity to let our loved ones know we’re not dead. The fact that they haven’t, I believe, is more proof they intend to keep us here.”

  “Good point,” Suzanne said. She sighed. “Just a half hour ago in my room I was wishing there was an old-fashioned phone so I could call my brother. He’s the only relative I have who’ll miss me.”

  “No family?” Donald asked.

  “I’m afraid not,” Suzanne said. “That part of my life just hasn’t come together, and I lost both parents years ago.”

  “I’ve got a wife and three kids,” Donald said. “Of course, that doesn’t mean much to the Interterrans. To
them the whole concept of parenthood seems quaintly out of date.”

  “My god!” Perry said. “What are we going to do? We have to get out of here. There has to be a way.”

  “Hey, everybody!” Michael called out from the dining room. “Soup’s on. Come and get it!”

  “Unfortunately they’re holding all the cards,” Donald said, ignoring Michael who disappeared back into the dining room. “There’s nothing we can do at this point except keep our eyes open.”

  “Which means taking advantage of their hospitality,” Suzanne said.

  “To a point,” Donald said. “I’m never one to condone fraternizing with the enemy.”

  “That’s the confusing part,” Suzanne said. “They don’t act like enemies. They’re so gracious and peaceful. It’s hard to imagine them doing anything unkind to anybody.”

  “Keeping me away from my family is about as mean as I can imagine,” Perry said.

  “Not from their perspective,” Donald said. “With reproduction carried out mechanically and four-year-old newborns imbued with the mind and personality of adults, there are no families in Interterra. It’s possible they cannot understand the bond.”

  “What the hell are you people doing out there in the dark?” Michael shouted. He’d returned to the juncture between the dining room and the lawn. “The worker clones are waiting for you. Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “I guess we might as well,” Suzanne said. “I am hungry.”

  “I’m not sure I am, after this discussion,” Perry said.

  They started walking toward the light spilling out onto the dark grass.

  “There has to be something we can do,” Perry said.

  “We can avoid offending them,” Donald said. “That could be critical.”

  “What could we do to offend them?” Perry asked.

  “It’s not us that I’m worried about,” Donald said. “It’s the numbskull divers.”

  “What about being direct about all this?” Perry suggested. “Why not ask Arak when we meet him tomorrow whether we’re going to be able to leave? Then we’d know for sure.”