2 Degrees

by Bev Prescott

  The acupalmtell on Woody’s belt crackled with a woman’s urgent voice: “Woody, Woody, Woody.”

  “Excuse me.” She slipped the device from her belt. “Woody here.”

  “You asked to be notified if the Strelitzia made contact.” The muted tone of the woman’s voice made her sound far away. “He’s waiting on the line.”

  Woody got up. “Any sign of the Bird of Paradise?”

  “Negative,” the woman answered. “We’ve searched the entire Bay of Fundy and out to sea five hundred kilometers. There’s no sign of the ship.”

  “Please keep looking. It can’t be far. As long as she’s not deeper than sixty-one hundred meters, the Belostomatid’s radar will find her.”

  “We will,” the woman said.

  “Stay invisible while you’re at it,” Woody added. “The Belostomatid would be easy prey for the Bird of Paradise.”

  “I have to go with you to talk to the Strelitzia.” Sharon stood. “I need to see Eve. I need to know she’s alive.”

  “Agreed.” Woody secured the acupalmtell and motioned for Sharon to follow.

  Sharon held up a hand. “You stay, Erik. I’ll be back.”

  He sat and lowered his head.

  “You’ll be okay.” She topped off his bowl with the water from her flask, and shut the door.

  In their sock feet, Sharon and Woody hurried down the hall to the command room. Neatly stacked boots filled a storage case outside the room. They grabbed their respective pairs and put them on.

  When they entered the room, JJ, flanked by Dale and Federico, turned to them. “The Strelitzia is on the SatCom, line four.”

  Woody seated herself in the command seat. She motioned for Sharon to take the adjacent one. “Let the scoundrel do all the talking.” Woody acknowledged Dale and Federico, then turned to Sharon, “Keep your head.” She pressed the blinking blue light on the STELA.

  The OVA flashed white. Pixels dotted its surface, then resolved into the image of the strange man dressed in a flowery robe and bird mask.

  Standing on a small beach surrounded by enormous rocks twelve to twenty meters tall, the Strelitzia straightened the mask on his face, and outstretched his arms. His robe fluttered in the wind as water lapped the shore behind him. In his distorted electronic voice he said, “Is this lovely, or what?” His hands went to his hips. “Have you ever been here, Sharon?”

  Keeping Woody’s order to let him talk in mind, Sharon asked, “Where is here?”

  “Pity. You lost everyone so young. Of course you’ve never been here. You’re just a dirt-poor farm girl. Except for your recent forays with Dr. Woodhouse, you’ve never been anywhere.” He pointed a finger skyward. “Not to worry. You too will soon visit Hopewell Rocks.” He spread his hands. “Here in lovely New Brunswick. I, of course, prefer the more fun name, Flower Pot Rocks. I can see it. Can’t you?”

  “Cut the drama,” Woody interrupted.

  “You’re a killjoy, Wilhelmina. You’re always in here.” He tapped his forehead. “You really should get out of your own head from time to time. Take a walk outside. You could always ask Sharon about the outdoors. Oh, wait.” He put his hands to his cheeks elaborately. “I almost forgot. Sharon’s outdoors is nothing but charred trees and buildings. Another terrible pity.”

  “Where’s Eve?” Sharon gritted her teeth.

  “Oh, Sharon. I have to give you credit. You outsmarted my band of Banditti not just once. But twice.” He put a forefinger to his chin. “You always seem to be just a little bit ahead of me. But you know what? This is like a marathon. Eventually, you’ll tire and wear yourself out. Me, I’ll just keep coming until I get what I want. And if I don’t get what I want, you don’t get what you want.”

  “Let me see her.” Sharon swallowed back rising anger. “Let me talk to Eve.”

  “Well.” He put his arms behind his back and paced. “When I get the secret to the apple tree, you get your wife.”

  “How can we trust you?” Woody asked.

  The Strelitzia threw his head back and laughed. “What is this we business? Do you have any idea what this woman is keeping from you, Wilhelmina? If you . . .” He wagged a finger. “Wait. Have you two made some kind of a deal? Yes. That would explain things.”

  His image on the OVA grew bigger as he moved forward. “I may look odd, but I’m certainly not stupid. Brilliant, actually. Shall I clear a few things up for Wilhelmina, Sharon? Bring her into the loop?”

  Sharon glanced at Woody.

  Keeping her eyes locked to the Strelitzia, Woody didn’t flinch or speak.

  “So you don’t know.” He stepped back. “Doesn’t really surprise me. I don’t even know myself, and I’m the one who’s got her wife. Granted, I pulled many tricks out of my hat trying to get Eve to fess up.”

  Sharon bolted to her feet. “I’ll kill you if you’ve hurt her.”

  “In the face of my efforts, Eve’s silence confirmed the value of whatever it is that you’re hiding.” He sneered. “And I fucking want it.”

  “Tell me where to meet you,” Sharon growled. “I’ll give you the damn thing. Just please, don’t hurt her.” Sharon scanned every centimeter of the OVA for some sign of Eve. “Where is she? Why isn’t she with you?”

  He rubbed his hands over his upper arms as if to warm himself. “Do I have to remind you that your wife is a sick woman? What kind of person would I be if I brought her out onto this frigid windy beach?”

  “Show us that she’s alive,” Woody demanded.

  “Fine. I’ll show you that she’s safe, warm, and medicated. For now, anyway. I don’t think I need to remind you of what happened to poor Areva and her husband.” The Strelitzia pulled an acupalmtell from his robe and spoke. “Connect with our captive.”

  The OVA split into two images, the Strelitzia on the left and a stark room containing Eve on the right. She lay curled on a cot. Her hands and feet were bound. A beige jumpsuit replaced the dress she’d been wearing the day she was taken.

  “Wake up, woman!” the Strelitzia ordered. “Your wife is here to see you.”

  Sharon fumbled around the command desk to get closer to the screen. “Eve.” She laid her hands on the OVA’s cold, flat screen, willing it to let her pass through.

  Eve looked up. Her face looked splotchy, as if she’d been crying. She struggled into a sitting position. With her bound hands, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind an ear. The telltale signs of torture with a low-strength spectraletto manifested themselves in pinpricks of angry red burns dotting the backs of her hands and tops of her feet. Her complexion suggested, mercifully, that her cancer was being kept at bay. A tear streaked down her face. She struggled to lean forward to meet Sharon.

  They pressed their foreheads together as if the OVA and the kilometers didn’t separate them.

  “Eve, I have what he wants. I’m going to get you out of there.”

  “Don’t, Sharon,” Eve whispered. “Don’t give it to him. No matter what happens, you can never give him our secret. I’d rather die.”

  “Enough!” The Strelitzia spoke into the acupalmtell, “Disconnect.” He stuffed the instrument into his pocket.

  “No!” Sharon yelled.

  “I love you. Always,” Eve said before her image disappeared.

  “I love you too!” Sharon clasped her hands over her heart.

  “Now.” The Strelitzia reached for the gaudy silver ring on his right middle finger. Twisting it round and round, he said, “You’re already late. You’ve got forty-eight hours.”

  “Why so long?” Sharon asked. “We can be there in a few. I want her back now.”

  “Unless you want to deal with the category-five hurricane roaring up the coast, I wouldn’t advise it. I don’t intend to be in its path. Not to worry, though; Eve and I will be safely riding out the storm nearby. You do the same, and await my next instructions.” He smirked at Woody. “Don’t bother trying to take back the Bird of Paradise. If you do, I’ll make you watch me behead every Qaunik we capture. On
e by one. After that, I’ll have you disemboweled.” He clapped his hands and the OVA went blank.

  Sharon hugged her shaking body.

  Woody got up and put an arm around her. “He’s lying. Let’s sit.” She eased Sharon around the command desk and into a seat. “I think I know why your shoulder still hurts.”

  “I don’t give a damn about my shoulder.” Sharon studied Woody’s expression for a reason it mattered. “It’s the least of my worries.”

  “If I’m right, it’s at the heart of our worries.” Woody jutted her chin at Dale. “Do you mind if Dale takes a look?”

  Sharon caught Federico’s worried expression. “Go ahead.”

  “I’ll need you to remove your jacket.” Dale set a medical case on the command desk and retrieved a chip-wand.

  Sharon slipped her jacket from her shoulders. Pain flared with the movement.

  Using her fingers, Dale pressed Sharon’s upper right back.

  Sharon winced.

  “That’s the spot.” Dale hovered the chip-wand over the point where her finger pressed into Sharon. “You were right, Woody. She’s wearing a tracking chip. It’s the kind NONA sometimes slips into unsuspecting people they’re interested in. The trouble is, if it’s injected wrong, it can hurt like hell. That’s why it’s always placed out of reach and out of sight of the victim. People just assume a bug bite or some benign injury that’ll go away. I suspect this one’s rubbing on the scapula.”

  “Do you remember when you first noticed it?” Woody asked.

  Sharon ticked through the past several days. She’d been in a lot of scuffles. “Early on, maybe when the soldiers took Eve. Can you cut it out of me now?”

  “That fits with my theory.” Woody put a hand to her hip. “We know the soldiers who took Eve worked for the Strelitzia. I’ll bet one of them injected it—clumsily. Because the Strelitzia has known your every move since day one. Dammit, I wish I’d thought of this sooner.”

  “He knows about your underground farm too,” JJ added. “He left a calling card in Dr. Ryan’s box of medications.”

  Woody reached into her pocket. “He did send someone into your underground growing room. The reason they didn’t steal your vegetables and fruits is that he didn’t want you to know he’d been there.” She opened her palm. “It’s another tracking chip. I’m guessing he assumed you’d come back for the box because it has Eve’s medication. It’s a backup for being able to track you.”

  “Probably drives him crazy that he’s been following you all over the planet,” Federico added, “but you haven’t led him to what he wants.”

  “What is it that Eve discovered about your tree that’s so valuable?” Woody asked. “You’ve got to tell me everything. It’s the only way for us to beat him at his game.”

  Sharon closed her eyes and hugged herself. Enough had happened to prove that Woody and the Qaunik were her only hope of getting Eve back alive. She was ready to tell Woody everything. Almost. “Eve isolated the genetic material that made the tree resistant to pests and drought. Then she spliced the material into our seeds in the underground growing room. The result is that everything grows lush even with little water. She did some controlled experiments with certain pests. Our squash became completely resistant to the squash beetle. We hid the material inside a box in the tree where the Africanized honeybees lived.”

  “How the hell did you get past the bees?” JJ asked.

  “We waited for one of those rare cold snaps we’d occasionally get. Extreme cold makes the bees too sluggish to be agitated.” Sharon rolled her sore shoulder. “The box had already been put inside the tree by Elliot to hide my family’s valuables. Eve and I got it out and put the genetic material inside with argon from Eve’s old lab to preserve the contents. Trouble is, it never got cold enough again for me to be able to get it back out.”

  “That’s one way to hide the family heirlooms,” Federico said.

  “I have a plan.” Woody motioned for Dale to sit. “And it doesn’t involve going to the Bay of Fundy.”

  “We have to go.” Sharon shook her head. “Or he’ll kill Eve.”

  “We’re not going to the Bay of Fundy,” Woody insisted, “because the Strelitzia and Eve aren’t anywhere near there.”

  “But we saw him.” Sharon gestured to the blank OVA.

  “No.” Woody shook her head. “We saw a digital illusion—a green-screen, in effect. Twenty minutes ago, when we were talking with him, the tide was in, not out. If he really had been on that beach thirty minutes ago, he would’ve been underwater.”

  “And Eve? Where is she?”

  “She’s on the Bird of Paradise. I know every nook and cranny. The room that Eve was in had a slight crack in the wall exactly like the crack in holding cell 6B.”

  “Where do you think they are, then?” Dale asked.

  “That’s tougher. But I have a hunch, given that Belostomatid’s radar can’t find her. The Bird of Paradise’s electronic systems require rare earths. Not much, but enough on hand for repairs or building new things. One of the last sites on the planet where you can find rare earths is in South Carolina.” Woody swiped STELA, bringing up a satellite image of the Palmetto State on the OVA. “See these?” She pointed to several large containers. “This is the location of the Old Naval Weapons Station near Charleston. They weren’t there a week ago.”

  “So you think he’s near Charleston?” Federico asked.

  “Not yet,” Woody answered. “I’m guessing, because of the hurricane, the Bird of Paradise is hidden deep within the Milwaukee Depth of the Puerto Rico Trench. That’s why we can’t find her. He’s riding out the storm there.”

  “But he told us we’d exchange the secret for Eve in New Brunswick,” Sharon said. “I don’t understand.”

  Woody swiped STELA again, bringing up an image of the entire North American coastline. The eye of the hurricane swirled near the former Washington, D.C. “He has no intention of letting Eve go.”

  “Everything you’re saying is the opposite of what we were told.” Sharon rubbed her temples. “What if you’re wrong?”

  “Listen to me.” Woody gripped Sharon’s shoulders. “Eve is too valuable. The Strelitzia still doesn’t know the secret to the apple tree. He knows enough about you to know that Eve is the most likely person to understand it.” Woody pointed at the screen. “This is what he’s up to. His plan is to send us on a wild goose chase in the Bay of Fundy. Those containers, which as I mentioned weren’t there a week ago, are filled with rare earths. That’s what I’m betting. While we’re chasing our tails, he’ll transfer the containers to the Bird of Paradise. He’ll send a crew to meet you. With that chip in your back, they’ll find you, take your box with its secrets, and kill you. Then he slips away for good.”

  “What’s your plan?” Federico asked.

  “First thing we need to do is get that chip out of Sharon’s back.” Woody got up.

  “There’s a problem with that,” Dale interjected. “It won’t work outside a living human body. If we take it out, its temperature will drop and he’ll know.”

  “That’s why we need a decoy.” Woody sketched on and tapped STELA. “We’ll find a Qaunik willing to volunteer, and prep that person with an incision. The instant you remove that chip from Sharon, you’ll implant it into the volunteer. That person will go to the Bay of Fundy, accompanied by someone who can extract them both using the Albatross, when the time is right.”

  “I’ll do it alone.” JJ stood. “It’s safer that way.”

  “No.” Federico shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Why does danger matter for me, and not someone else?” JJ asked. “I want to do this. For the Qaunik.” He turned his head. “And Sharon, and Eve.”

  Federico opened his mouth to protest.

  “You know our ethic,” Woody cut him off. Her expression was worried and sad. “The honor of risking one’s life for another person is sacred. The only way we could prevent JJ from this act of heroism is if we believed
he wasn’t capable.”

  “Are you willing to say I’m not capable?” JJ asked.

  “No.” Federico swallowed. “You’re more than capable.”

  “Don’t worry,” JJ said. “I’ll get away. Like I always do.”

  “Yes, you will. Because you’d better.” Woody kissed his cheek. “Because we prefer the world with you in it.”

  JJ put a hand to where Woody’s lips had touched his face. “I won’t let you down.”

  Woody exhaled deeply, resigned to the plan. “Never in a million years could you let me down. No matter what happens.” She looked at Sharon. “You and Federico are going with me to South Carolina. When the Strelitzia rears his head to take the rare earths, we’ll be waiting.”

  “And what’s my job?” Dale asked. “Because I’m all in, too.”

  “You’re going to command Belosto-One in my absence. I want you to gather all of our people, including those left in Chicago. Get them and all of our equipment aboard Belosto-One. Stay invisible and head to the Puerto Rico Trench. Hover in the mesosphere above the Milwaukee Deep. Once we get the Bird of Paradise, I’ll bring her to the surface. That’s where we’ll meet to bring everyone on board.” Woody pressed STELA’s Earth icon.

  A satellite image of the planet from the Arctic to Antarctica popped up. Woody pointed at a stretch of broken pieces of jagged white. “This is what’s left of the Thwaites. It collapsed eighteen hours ago. With Pine Island Glacier already gone, there’s nothing left to hold the West Antarctic Ice Sheet. According to the transponders placed in the ice during the last century, the sheet slid three meters in the last seven hours.”

  “What happens after that?” Sharon asked.

  “When the sheet finally goes, the Extinction Wave will swallow Earth’s coastlines. Horrific storms will rage. The climate will change in ways our worst nightmares can’t conceive.” Woody leaned over the control desk. “Humanity will face its greatest test.”