“How long iz ziz meeting going to take?” Ramiro asked.
“That depends on you and by that, I mean all of you. When we need to adjourn for the evening, each of you has a room upstairs. There is a change of clothes for cocktails and dinner, sleepwear, and clothes for tomorrow if needed.”
“Wow,” Monica said. “I’m impressed.”
“Thank you,” Horus replied. “Now, while you look at the menu, I am going to take a short break because I have been sitting here since Harvey arrived.”
“Wait,” said Monica.
“Yes,” replied Horus.
“Where’s ‘here’?”
“Where I am,” Horace said.
“That’s not an answer,” Monica said.
To that question, there was no answer, and Horus vanished from all screens.
And as silently as he always was, Declercq appeared with his tray laden with drink refills and behind him, the waitress who they now knew as Carmen Domingo, with her tray laden with an assortment of pastries and other eatables they might want.
“He said that I should check out my computer security,” Phil said. “It seems to me that since he knows what we drink, eat, and wear, we all should be worried about our computer security.”
“Not I,” Issaack said. “Mine is impenetrable.”
Phil laughed. “Did he get your drinks right?”
“Of course,” Issaack replied.
“And your food,” Monica asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I guess your computer isn’t as secure as you thought,” Waldo said.
Issaack shook his head in disagreement. “There are lots of ways for him to learn about favorite drinks. Good security checks learn that kind of thing. Bartenders know, your tailors know your clothes likes and dislikes, where you eat can give you food preferences. He isn’t perfect. Look at how he screwed up with Phil’s drink order.”
“As you said,” Phil answered, “He could have learned things by asking the right people. In my case, maybe he asked the wrong person or asked someone who wanted to be funny.”
“Or had a grudge to bear,” Waldo said.
As silently as Declercq and Carmen had appeared, they went just as silently. No sooner had the door to the kitchen closed than Horus reappeared.
Chapter 7
“Well, I hope we are all ready to start,” Horus said. “But first, I realized during the break that there might be a little misunderstanding with my name.”
“I doubt it,” Monica said. “Horace is easy to remember.”
“Well, then,” Horus said. “Let me ask you to spell it.”
“I – t,” Harvey Gladstone said and there was a smattering of laughter.
“Ha, Ha,” said Horus. “Spell my … no change that. Spell ‘Horus.’”
“Let me,” Gloria pipped in. “H – O – R – U – S.”
Monica giggled. “That’s wrong. H – O …”
“She’s right,” Horus said. “It is not ‘Horace’ as in Horace Mann, U.S. Representative and Educator, or Horace Greeley, Editor and Journalist; or Horace Andy…”
“I know him,” Monica chimed in. “He’s a Jamaican singer and songwriter. He wrote Skylarking.”
“True,” said Horus. “But I am Horus as in the Egyptian tutelary deity.”
As he spoke a picture appeared on the table screen in front of them. It showed an ancient Egyptian depiction of a man with the head of a falcon wearing a red and white crown known as a pschent.
“Oh, I get it,” Waldo said. “You are leading this session, so you are our teacher or tutor and the name Horus is really the name of the avatar, not your real name.”
“You get an A on this little quiz,” Horus answered. “Now, let us get back to the reason you were all asked here.”
The avatar known as Horus was replaced with a video showing an island surrounded by bright blue water so clear the bottom could be seen quite a distance out.
“This is São Rochelle,” the voice of Horus explained. “It is a small volcanic island approximately one hundred miles east of the Bay of Olapoque, which is where the Oyapok River empties. The Oyapok River forms the border between French Guiana and the Brazilian state of Amapa. São Rochelle is four miles by two miles with the length oriented in a north by north-east direction. The water around it is extremely shallow reaching a maximum depth of twenty feet for a quarter mile and fifty feet for half a mile and then it drops quickly.”
“That doesn’t make it easily accessible by cruise ships, so we aren’t talking resort here,” Phil said.
“That’s correct,” Horus said.
“I remember that island,” Gloria said. “Hurricane Davido basically obliterated it forcing the population to evacuate.”
“Yes,” Horus said without the slightest indication of being bothered by the interruptions. “The island is well off the normal hurricane track but somehow Davido didn’t adhere to the rules. Now continuing with the island… its only access is on the northeast side where the small Rio da Fonte (or Fountain River) flows into the Atlantic Ocean.”
The view changed to a lower view.
“This is the view from a drone starting at the southwest end of the island and proceeding up the middle to the north end. This will give you a quick view of the island.
“The south of the island is basically grass with a few trees. The edge of the island is for all intents and purposes rock anywhere from five feet tall to ten feet tall. As you can see there are rocks everywhere. Not much arable ground to be seen.”
“That wouldn’t even be fun with a dune buggy or ATV,” Waldo said. “Way too many rocks.”
“That is an astute observation,” Horus said.
“Wow! What’s that?” Monica said.
What appeared to be a big pile of rocks appeared in the picture.
“That is Colina da Rocha or Boulder Hill,” Horus explained. “It appears to be a solid piece of granite just poking up out of the ground. It is one hundred fifty feet tall. The base is virtually circular with a radius of three-eighths of a mile or a circumference of almost 2.356 miles. If you want that in feet, it is 12,440 feet or 4,147 yards.”
The video continued as the drone crossed the top of Colina da Rocha. There were gasps from the Bundle’s members as water appeared to be pouring from about three quarters of the way up the side of the rock hill. The water cascaded down into a pool about a third of the way from the bottom.
“The pool is approximately thirty feet long and ten feet wide. Reports are that it is at least twenty feet deep,” the voice of Horus intoned over the oohs and aahs. “The water then pours out of the pool and falls straight down into another pool which is more semicircular with the outer edge being carved out of earth and rock. It had been accurately measured as being thirty-five feet deep at the point where the water hits the ground. The water then flows as Rio da Fonte or Fountain River from the base pool across the island to the point where it empties into the Atlantic making the only feasible access to the island.”
“What good iz it zen?” Ramiro queried. “Doesn’t lookz like you can grow ztuff zere.”
“Basically that is correct, Mr. Esteves. There is a small arable portion along the north side of the river where the inhabitants raised enough food to subsist along with the fish which they caught in the ocean and the fish were quite plentiful. Enough to feed them but not enough to make it worth trying to sell.”
“It would be difficult to get the fish off the island and into any kind of refrigerator ship,” Issaack said. “And you can’t have a trawler there because the water is too shallow to make port unless you had a super long pier.”
“Quite correct, Mr. Kincaid, and that is the reason the island has never been commercialized. The population at its maximum in the mid-1800s was eighty-two and when the population was evacuated because of the threat of Davido there were twenty-seven people. None of them wished to return.”
“How did they get off?” Monica asked.
“The Caribbean Isle sen
t a tender in and took them and their immediate belongings off. It was a good thing that they did because their homes were wiped out.”
As Horus was speaking the video showed the remains of the village in which the inhabitants had lived. It was nothing but piles of rough sawn wood timbers and what appeared to be thatching.
“The homes were made from the deciduous trees and few firs that were on the island and the roofs were thatched. There are sufficient palm trees on the southern end of the island to provide fronds for the thatching.”
“What’s going on?” Phil said as the island started to grow smaller under them.
“We are approaching the volcano,” Horus said.
Chapter 8
“Volcano!” came from the mouths of almost all of the Bundle’s members, the exception being Gladstone.
“It’s extinct,” Gladstone said. “I remember the news when they showed the inhabitants being evacuated. There’s no smoke and no sign of activity.”
“That is correct,” Horus said. “Montanha da Cratera or Crater Mountain, rises three-eighths of a mile above sea level and is two miles across at its base. The crater mouth is a half a mile across. The crater base is one thousand feet below the rim and is solid. There is heat felt there although not too hot to walk on. The temperature at the crater floor never drops under 80º Fahrenheit or 27º Celsius. The floor appears to be solid and the inhabitants thought about building homes there except for access, distance and lack of water. Basically they left it alone. It has trees growing on its slopes and on the Caribbean side there is a small rain forest that provided the population with fruit and some meat from the small rodents and snakes which live there.”
“Speaking of wildlife, what happened during the hurricane?” Gloria asked.
“Good question as you will shortly learn,” Horus said. “As far as can be determined by our flyovers, some of it survived. We have seen several cows and a horse or two that the people had. We figure they were freed before the evacuation and most likely moved up the slopes of the volcano. The island is so rocky that the water from the rains simply ran off and didn’t sit there. All the damage was done by the winds and storm surge. It will take some time, but the island’s flora and fauna will recover.
“Any other questions at this point?”
Hearing no one respond, Horus continued, “Then as it is twelve minutes before the hour we will break until 11:00 a.m.”
People began moving their chairs back.
“But, the break is not scheduled until ten before the hour, so you must stay seated until then.”
“What?” several of the Bundle said.
“Just joking.”
Monica giggled, but the others remained silent. Arising from her chair, she caught Gloria’s eye and nodded toward the woman’s room. Inside their private facility, Monica said, “I’m trying to figure something out about this system Horus is part of. When we go back, you sit where I did.”
“I’ve been doing some wondering also,” Gloria agreed. “I think that Horus is a computer. If I am right, it is a pretty smart computer. So, let’s try to find out. We can meet back here next break.”
“That’s a plan,” Monica said.
The two left the ladies room and headed back. Gloria reached the table first and went to where Monica had been sitting. There was a fresh glass of champagne there indicating that Declercq had been busy. Across the way where she had been sitting there was a fresh glass of Bodegas Hidalgo La Gitana Manzanilla Sherry. Monica reached the seat and sat down, pulling the chair up to the table and eyeing the glass of sherry. She looked over at Gloria who was sitting at the table and holding up the glass of champagne up as in a toast. Monica lifted the sherry in a similar motion and then took a sip. It was cool and delicious as it slid down her throat. She smiled at Gloria.
When the men were all back at the table, the visage of Horus appeared in front of their places. Monica watched him carefully. He appeared to look at her and then left and right and then back at her.
“You are not in the correct seat, Ms. Whitmore,” Horus said. And almost simultaneously, Gloria was told “You are not in the correct seat, Mrs. Mitchell. This is not a game of musical chairs. But if you wish to stay where you are, I am fine with that.”
“Gee, Horus,” Monica said. “I didn’t know that the seats were assigned. I thought we chose where we wanted to sit, and I wanted to talk to Waldo a bit.”
“Fine. Anyone else want to change seats?”
Everyone else just heard the second sentence of the last interchange. The others indicated they were perfectly happy being where they were.
“Now, the question to be asked or answered, is ‘So what is the interest in São Rochelle?’ Is that a correct assumption on my part?” Horus began.
There was a response chorus of yesses from all except Ramiro.
“Mr. Ramiro, is there a problem,” Horus asked him.
“No, I am juzt waiting to zee where all ziz iz going.” Ramiro responded.
“You are welcome to leave,” Horus said, “But because we are already talking about the focus of this meeting, your deposit will be held as was stated in the contract you received.”
“Contract?” Ramiro questioned.
“Yes, it was not a signed contact but the conditions that were stipulated went into effect when you accepted the invitation.”
“Well, let me azk you zen,” Ramiro said. “Doez ziz plan for the izland have anything to do with my buznezz?”
Horus smiled. “You think we would be going into competition with you?”
“I had begun to conzider zat.”
Horus laughed. “I am not making fun of you, Mr. Esteves, but nothing could be further from the truth. We are going into competition with no one. Well, maybe one if it were part of the real world. Are you ready to continue?”
“Sim,” Ramiro said. “Yez, let uz continue.”
Ramiro sat back in his chair and realized the other six were looking at him.
“What?” he said. “Canz’t man have opinionz?”
Everyone smiled, nodded or said yes, and seemed to relax a little bit. The way Ramiro had looked had caused them to wonder what was going on because they were not privy to the conversation between him and Horus – at least on the part of Horus because people close to Ramiro could hear his part of the conversation.
“Pardon the short delay,” Horus said to everyone. “Mr. Esteves had a slight problem, but now he understands.”
“Butz I have another question. I do notz underztand ziz São Rochelle. You zay itz part of Brazil butz ze name, it iz notz Português.”
“You mean that the name is not proper Portuguese.”
“Sim. ‘São’ is Português. It mean ‘zaint’, but diz ‘Rochelle.’ I know no zaint Rochelle.”
“You are correct. Let me give you the history of the island. It is very interesting.
“In the late 1600s, it was reported that a fabulous vein of emeralds, diamonds and gold had been discovered in Minas Gerais, a region in Southeastern Brazil. Fortune hunters came from all over and artisans (carpenters, stone masons, members of the arts, etc.) headed for Brazil to build the necessary infrastructure for cities in Brazil’s interior. In Portugal, one enterprising sea captain started using his ship to carry these immigrants to Brazil. His second trip encountered a terrible storm, perhaps not unlike Hurricane Davido. Winds and waves tore the sails off and demasted the ship, which was left to flounder. After a day, the ship was cast upon rocks in the middle of the night. As the waves beat upon the ship, the passengers and crew began to feel that all was lost. Talk was of taking to the lifeboats as the only alternative. The passengers and crew were praying for deliverance. Then in the late hours of the night, a light appeared in the dimness of the approaching dawn. Looking at it through his telescope, the captain reported that it appeared that a man had built a fire upon a beach and was waving his arms trying to get their attention. The three remaining lifeboats were launched and filled with passengers and guided by the
light, made it to shore. When they got there, a fire was burning low, but there was no sign of the man. A lull in the storm enabled the crew to bring the rest of the passengers and most of the supplies ashore before the storm increased intensity and forced the passengers and crew that were ashore to seek shelter on the island’s interior. When the storm abated, the ship was gone along with the captain and part of the crew who – hoping to save it – had stayed aboard. No sign of the ship was ever found. The survivors built huts using what wood was available but mostly using the plentiful rocks on the island. They had no mortar so the stones were put together by the stone masons and topped with thatched roofs.
“The island was not visited by another ship for over fifty years and most of the survivors had passed on and their progeny had adapted to life on the island. The two lifeboats that had not been destroyed were used as fishing boats and a couple of new ones were built. When a ship finally appeared – and it was a Brazilian ship – most of the populace was happy with their lives and stayed although some of them left with the ship following their parents’ dreams.”
“Interesting story,” Issaack said. “But what about the name?”
“I was just getting to that,” Horus said. “The owner of the ship – and the captain – was French from the city of Rochelle and that is what he named his ship: Ville de Rochelle. The religious survivors felt that the man who saved them was giving them a sign that this was where they should stay. They believed that he was an angel sent by God but at best he was a saint for saving them and so they named the island after him and the ship that had brought them there: Saint Rochelle or São Rochelle.”
Ramiro laughed and the other six looked at him.
“Zat’z a good ztory. I likez zat. Now I underzstand.”
Chapter 9
“Now let’s get back to why São Rochelle is of interest to us.
“As you could see from the video, this island basically has many of the earth’s livable zones. Excluded are the Arctic and Antarctic because they are not habitable within normal means and only one creature there would be of interest at all, but we will get to that.”
Predator Island Page 4