by John Hunt
“Can you pick me up here?”
“Sure.” And Petur turned and strode happily down to his little cart. He turned back and asked, “By the way, where did you go while you were away? I forgot to ask about your trip.”
“Mexico. Reading newspapers.”
“Then we should have some interesting conversation tonight.”
“Are you going to squeeze me for information about Mexico all evening?”
“Squeezing you certainly crossed my mind,” Petur replied with a sly grin. He climbed in the cart, stepped on the pedal, and as the cart accelerated down the road he called back, “See you at eight!”
He drove the cart rapidly, for he planned to see Jeff off on the same plane on which Elisa had just arrived. He assumed that Sophia would be with Jeff, to help him pack for his next expedition. Poor fellow. He had not had an opportunity to stay on the island for very long.
Petur swerved to the right onto the main road that ran between the resort complex and the harbor. Several carts buzzed by in the opposite direction. He waved to the riders of two of the carts, and nodded to the unknown driver of a third — probably a resort guest. Jeff had told him that the men who bombed the OTEC had stayed at the resort for several days prior to their attempt at sabotage. It had made Petur fume for a moment. He thought fleetingly about shutting the place down, or giving strict security checks to all people who arrived on the island. But Isaac had reminded him that in the longer term, this would be counterproductive. They did not want to live in a police state.
The Island certainly had controlled immigration tightly, but they had never controlled visitation. Nor would they now. Jeff had noted that terrorists’ success is based on instilling fear. So, to avoid losing to them, don’t be afraid. Don’t make a prison to protect yourself. Jeff also thought that the best defense against terrorism is to know thy enemy and use their own weaknesses against them. And that was what Jeff was good at — perhaps the best on the planet. The problem was how to determine whom to target. Jeff somehow had some good clues.
Petur had reached the airport road, and turned right once again. He passed the driveway to Science Hall. This was where he would take Elisa tonight. It should be an excellent night for dinner there. He had made his reservations two weeks earlier, although he had no idea then that Elisa would come too.
A little line of carts pulled into the air terminal. People rushed in at the last minute with their suitcases. Petur pulled his cart into a parking area that had been set aside for privately owned vehicles, and hustled inside the building. Although crowded this morning, it was not big. He found his sister and his friend immediately.
“Good morning, you two. Jeff, you all ready to go?” Petur patted him on the shoulder, gently, and smiled.
“Petur, I thought you weren’t going to make it. Figured you were sleeping in.” Jeff grinned back.
“Nope. I was up bright and early. Met a friend on the incoming flight. That’s what held me up. I was dropping her off at her house.”
“Her? What ‘her’ might that be, dear brother?” Sophia eyed him with suspicion but also with hope. She always thought he could use more of a social life.
“Your assistant, Elisa.”
Sophia shook her head. “It doesn’t look like she is going to be my assistant much longer. I heard you’ve begun lobbying to get her a full-time position as the Island sociologist.”
“Yes I have. I was going to talk to you about that, but it slipped my mind. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize, Petur. It doesn’t bother me at all. It’s exactly what she wanted. I hope you can make it work out for her.”
Petur was certainly going to try. He figured it would not be very difficult to convince the members of the Island Project that they were sorely lacking in sociologic knowledge.
“Jeff, it was Elisa who brought the Mexican issue to Petur’s attention in the first place,” Sophia noted. “She definitely has expertise in interpreting social and political trends in Latin America.”
Petur added, “She is going to brief me over the next few days, although she doesn’t know how seriously we have begun to take this. I wish you had time to meet her. We may need your talents in dealing with this.”
Jeff replied, “I am always ready and willing to serve. I’ve spent a lot of time in Mexico. By the time I return from this trip, you will probably have gathered enough information about this potential Mexican threat — enough for me to dig my teeth into. Then, if needed, I’ll buzz over and see what I can do to keep an eye on things.”
Petur asked, “You sure you don’t want to go over there sooner? This effort of yours to catch up with our Arab friends seems to have a low likelihood of success, anyway.”
“Petur, I am insulted,” Jeff claimed, with a pretend frown. “I think we need to find these fellows, and find them soon. Three strikes and you’re out — but they are still at the plate. It’s my job to make sure they don’t take another swing. I have little doubt they will try.”
“Yes, I know. Go do what you think you need to do. How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
Jeff turned to Sophia, smiling. “I have enormous motivation to rush back. But I have a lot of research to do first. I expect I’ll be in Washington for at least three weeks. Then, off to the Middle East. I have no idea how long I will need to stay there. I could easily be gone a few months.”
“Well, as soon as you can return, please do. And stay safe. It sounds like you’re planning some dangerous games.”
“Danger is my middle name, Petur.”
“I thought ‘shoot me’ was your middle name!” Sophia chided, with concern.
“Well, I intend to be completely free of all foreign bits of metal on my return. And no new scars, either. I want nothing for that scoundrel Dr. Standall to have to work on.”
Petur shuffled the two over to a nearby seating area that had just been vacated, where he and Jeff settled in on padded chairs. He put his feet up on the little wooden table. Sophia was pulled away by a friend, and although eager to get back to Jeff, had to be polite. Jeff gave her a nod of assent, and with resignation she began to chat with the chubby woman.
“How long until you board?” Petur asked.
“I think it should be soon. But enough of that.” Jeff looked over toward Sophia, who was busy listening intently to her friend’s animated discourse. He said, sotto voce, “So, tell me about this young woman of yours.”
Shaking his head, Petur replied in a similar voice, “Not mine yet. I am working on it though.”
“Yeah, yeah. Is she pretty?”
“She could be. My first impression of her was terrible. She looked like a school librarian, and was wearing a potato sack for a dress. She could have been a hairy-legged slug under that outfit and I would not have been able to tell. And she has these very thick coke-bottle glasses in old-style frames.”
“Well, then. You sure don’t make her out to be a raging beauty, Petur.”
“But that’s the strange thing. She has a great walk. And her eyes are beautiful, when she takes off those glasses. Her hair is luxurious, but she pins it back so tightly it looks like it is varnished on. She has a lovely face, perfect features, yet no one would notice.”
“How long have you known this girl?”
Still speaking quietly but not in a whisper, Petur replied, “Until today, I had only met her once, a few weeks back, the day you came in on the OTEC. She has been here off and on for a few months. She works with Sophia.” His sister turned when she heard her name, and Petur smiled at her. She went back to her conversation.
“Anyhow, I’ve been thinking about her a lot these past weeks, while lying on my couch and letting my skin flake off. So when I saw her name on the incoming-passenger manifest, I decided to meet her at the plane. That’s all there is to our relationship… so far.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a ways to go before you have any good stories for me, then. Oh well.”
“We can’t all be so sharp with the ladies a
s you are, Mr. Baddori!”
“That’s true. I’m hard to match,” Jeff quipped. “But it sounds like you’re trying.”
“Yes. I would say I have developed some sort of infatuation. Can’t explain it, really.”
“Have you ever heard of pheromones?”
“Sure have. Those little airborne hormones have really screwed with my mind over the years. I remember there was one girl who I saw a couple of times several years ago. She made this enormous impression on me even though I don’t think I ever saw her face. I even dreamed about her a few times, though we never said a word to each other. I’m pretty sure her pheromones got to me. We were in a cramped elevator together.”
“Tell me more.”
“You know, I don’t even remember. She was pretty, I think, and brunette. Great legs. But that’s all the information I recorded in my brain about her.”
“So where did this sentinel meeting, or contact, with this pheromonically exciting woman occur?”
“Amsterdam. That was when I first met Dr. Standall, your favorite meat cutter. I saw her again a day later, in Germany. Strange coincidence. We were staying in the same hotels, I think.”
“So you had two chances to hook up with her — each in a hotel, mind you — and you blew them both. Is that what you’re telling me, Petur?”
“I thought she must have been Standall’s traveling companion. I didn’t think I should ask his girl out.”
“But she was not Standall’s girl?”
“No. Actually, he thought she was mine!”
“Too bad. You both missed out. That should teach you something, my friend. Two opportunities blown to hell. And you know the chance of you ever running into that girl a third time is zero.”
“And I haven’t given her much of a thought, because of that. Pheromones got me. They are very real. I have no doubt about it. Maybe we should sic one of our biochemists on that task — isolating pheromones. The Island could make a fortune!”
“It already is making a fortune,” Sophia chimed in as she stepped over to the men. “What have you gentlemen been talking about so quietly over here?”
“Your beauty and talent, sister. What else would two sane men, in the presence of such perfection, be talking about?”
“Yes, yes. I am sure you two were up to no good. You aren’t even paying attention to your flight.” She pointed to the door leading out to the tarmac and the waiting aircraft. “Jeff, I think they want you to board.”
Jeff looked across the now-nearly empty room at the door, just as Sophia’s chubby friend was squeezing herself and two large carry-ons through.
“Whoa. Almost missed it. Thanks, Sophia!” Jeff scrambled to grab his small leather bag, shook Petur’s hand, and gave Sophia a quick kiss. He moved to the door, stopped, put his bag down, and returned to kiss her again. This time he paid more adequate attention to the kiss. Petur was a little uneasy. This was his baby sister.
“Alright, already. Why don’t you two get a room!”
The couple broke apart.
Jeff looked at Sophia, while still holding her hand. “Good luck with your experiment tomorrow. I’ll be interested in hearing the results.”
“So will I. I’ll also be interested to hear that you are okay wherever you’re going to be. Call us please,” Sophia requested plaintively.
“I won’t be able to call as much as I would like. A couple of times from Washington, maybe. But not after that. But I’ll be fine. Count on it.” He nodded to Petur, and walked away.
“Hurry home!” Sophia called out as Jeff stepped out onto the tarmac.
Jeff waved his hand over his shoulder to acknowledge the comment, but he did not turn around. In a moment, he was climbing the boarding ladder, and was gone.
Sophia held on to her brother’s arm. “I am never going to see him again, Petur.”
“Nonsense. Jeff is a survivor. He’ll be fine. Before you know it he will back here drinking my beer… and showing off his newest scar.”
“Not funny, Petur. I don’t think he could survive another wound. He’s already a mess.”
“Men like that don’t die, Sophia. He’ll keep coming back. Don’t you worry.” Petur held his sister close as the plane taxied away from the terminal and onto the end of the runway. It held firm there as the engines were throttled up until they were screaming. Then the plane started moving, tore down the runway, and leapt into the sky. Sophia watched it turn gradually to the north, slowly become a speck, and then finally disappear from view.
Brother and sister walked hand in hand out of the air terminal. Petur gave Sophia a sympathetic hug before she climbed into her own little golf cart, and with tears marginally obscuring her vision, she drove down the road for home.
Petur also headed for his home, where he hurriedly changed into his standard Saturday-morning garb: jogging shorts and brightly colored socks. He threw on his old sneakers and his horned Viking hat. Grabbing a six-pack of Pripps beer, he began the short walk to Science Hall, where the Hash was soon to begin.
By the time Petur arrived, the hares had already sprinted on their way through the roads and back trails of Paradise 1.
“Hey, DUR, did you think we might not notice that you’re late?” asked Professor Harrigan. “You missed the announcements.”
Petur replied, “Sorry, Irish Spring. Hung over.”
“Well, at least that’s an adequate excuse. But I don’t believe it. I’m not sure I have ever seen you drink to excess, as every Hasher who is worth their salt should.”
“Well, that may change soon. I am planning on imbibing champagne fairly heavily tonight.”
“As will I. It sure took them long enough to repair the OTEC after you tried to blow it up, DUR! But, after tonight, I will have abundant electricity for my experiments. It is something I have been eager for. And it is well timed, for I didn’t actually needed the power until this week.”
“You have had some new successes, Professor?” inquired Petur.
“Nothing I can be sure of. But I think so.” Harrigan scratched his head and turned away slightly. He did not want to discuss it further right now — that was clear.
Petur spoke again, and changed the subject somewhat. “Sophia has been eager for the power too. But she has been waiting for months. I feel like I let everyone down.”
“Nonsense!” Harrigan said adamantly. But he felt no need to explain further, and turned to talk with another group of Hashers.
Petur sidled over to Isaac and Joseph who were chatting quietly. He smiled at Joseph, pleased that the older man had come to a Hash again.
“I heard what you said to Harrigan,” Isaac said to Petur. “You’ll have to get over the feelings of guilt, my friend. The only thing people are thinking on the island is that it’s amazing how fast you got the second OTEC built after that first one was sunk. And you are singly responsible for saving the second one from a similar fate.”
“Not singly. I had lots of help from Jeff Baddori.”
“Of course, of course. Where is he, by the way? I thought you were going to get him to take up Hashing?”
“He hasn’t recovered enough to go running yet. Besides, he is off to catch the men who tried to blow us up,” Petur said casually, as if hunting saboteurs was an everyday thing.
Joseph asked, “How is he going to accomplish that? I understand that we have no clue who they are.”
“Jeff has some kind of notion. I didn’t ask him to go into details. I bet he’ll succeed, though.”
“I hope he does. I would love to get a piece of those fellas,” Joseph said, while he shook his head.
Isaac smiled as he stretched his calf muscles. “I don’t think Jeff Baddori is likely to leave any pieces for you to find.”
They all nodded. Then, about a stone’s throw away, they heard Harrigan shout out “Tally Ho!” and off went the hundred or so members of the day’s pack down the driveway and onto the airport road. Isaac and Harrigan — Lewd and Lascivious and Irish Spring — ran briskly near
the front. Petur and Joseph took up a slower pace and fell in at the back of the pack. They ran along in silence, as they followed the pack and turned left on the airport road, away from the airstrip. It looked as if they were heading to the resort area today.
After a while, Petur spoke, just a little out of breath. “Joseph, it’s good to see you Hashing. It doesn’t happen enough.”
Joseph replied, as he panted a bit. “It seemed a good thing to do today. For one thing, I knew you would be here, and I wanted to hear if you had given any thought to what we were talking about a few weeks ago.”
“I’ve been mostly stuck in the house flaking away for the last few weeks, Joseph, and I found myself thinking about the Bounty constantly. I’ve been reading everything I can get my hands on. We have so little to go on. In fact, we have no reason to believe that any of it is true. And indeed, it defies recorded history. This could all be an elaborate hoax.”
“Yes, I know, I know. But can’t you feel that it’s true? Feel it in your heart?”
Petur pulled up short and started walking. Joseph did likewise. “I don’t know, really, but I agree with you that it is worth looking for. If nothing else, it will be a mighty fun treasure hunt.”
“It will be the most amazing treasure hunt ever. And the most amazing treasure ever, too.”
“If we find it,” Petur added. He started running again, but Joseph stayed walking. “You okay, Joseph?”
“Sure, DUR.” Joseph called ahead. “Go on. I’m going to walk a bit.”
Petur waved back and accelerated. The pack was spread out ahead, but Petur, unencumbered by his slower friend, used his wiry long legs to propel him steadily into the middle. The trail coursed through the harbor area, and then alongside the lagoon. A narrow path brought them down to the water’s edge, where one required nimble feet to avoid slipping on the wet volcanic rock. This difficult terrain continued for more than a kilometer, along which two people fell into the blue water of the lagoon — casualties of the Hash. Finally, another narrow grassy path took the long line of runners back up to the main road, right to the main entrance of the resort complex. This is where he came alongside Isaac.