by Ben Bova
THIRTY-ONE
SITTING AT MY desk drowsing, Dan saw. A line from Hamlet came to his mind: “Now might I do it pat.” Kate stirred, eyes fluttering. “Hello, Dan. I was wondering when you’d show up.” As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, he came around the desk. Resisting an urge to grab her and yank her out of his chair, Dan made himself sit on the corner of the desk. He folded his hands in his lap. “Couldn’t leave without saying good-bye, Scarlett.” “You’re leaving?” He nodded solemnly. “Going back to Earth.” “Then coming here was a pretty silly thing to do,” Kate said. “I know.” “But you couldn’t leave without coming to see me,” she said, looking up at him. Kate laughed softly. “I knew it. My security people went apeshit after you escaped. But once you registered at the hotel-” “You knew about that?” “That little old man you’ve got with you is pretty good at hacking into computers, but we’ve got the real experts.” Dan marveled at the news. “You knew and you didn’t do anything?” “I wanted to see what ‘Mr. Wilcox’ was up to. I didn’t have to send anybody out searching for you. I figured you’d come here, sooner or later. You couldn’t stay away, could you?” “No, I guess I couldn’t.” Leaning further back in the chair, Kate put her feet on the desk. Dan saw that she was wearing softboots, and the clinging fabric of her slacks outlined her calves and thighs tantalizingly. “So what happens now?” Kate asked. “You going to tear my clothes off and rape me?” Dan grinned down at her. “I imagine your security people are already watching us, aren’t they? How much of a show do you want to give them?” “We’re not being watched. Oh, the office is locked tight now. One-way locks. I had them installed right after your friends sprang you. You can’t get out until I call security to come in and open the door from the other side.” “That’s cozy.” “We’re not bugged, either. I have my own people go over this office twice a day.” Curious, he asked, “Who would bug you?” She laughed again; Dan thought it sounded bitter. “Lots of people bug me, Dan. Lots of them.” “Like me?” “You? You’re the least of my worries.” That stung. “Then who?” She straightened up in the chair, planted her feet firmly on the carpeted floor. “Do you know a GEC Councilman named Gaetano? Rafaelo Gaetano?” “The representative from United Europe.” “From the Mafia, you mean.” Dan felt his eyebrows hike up. Kate nodded. “That’s what I said. The Mafia. They’ve got their hooks into this global conversion program, and they plan to take charge of the whole operation.” “How do you know?” “Because I’ve been working for them, how else? Gaetano has a hold on me and he’s forced me to let them infiltrate Astro.” “So I heard.” “From who?” “Never mind.” “The Duchamps woman? I transferred her out of here so she’d be out of Gaetano’s way.” “Somebody tried to kill her.” “Jesus Christ! Murder?” “Why not? They’re good at it. Centuries of experience.” “This is getting too heavy.” Feeling a different sort of anger heating his blood, Dan jabbed an accusing finger at her. “You think that milking the conversion program isn’t going to kill people? By the millions? What the hell do they care, as long as they come out on top.” Kate nodded grimly. “I suppose that’s right.” “And Malik’s in with them, I bet.” “I don’t think so,” she said. “Oh, sure, Malik’s efforts to get all the major industries under GEC control is making it easy for the crime syndicate to move in.” “Yeah,” Dan said disgustedly. “Malik ties up everybody hand and foot and the crooks come in and pick their pockets.” “Something like that.” “So how do you like working for Gaetano and his family?” “I’d like to kill him,” said Kate. Dan cocked his head at her. “That shouldn’t be too tough for you to do. You’re sleeping with him, right?” “I can’t.” “Don’t like the sight of blood?” “I told you, he’s got a hold on me. My sister. If I kill him, I’m certain they’ll send somebody to kill her. And then me.” Her eyes strayed to a framed photograph on the desk. In the dim lighting, Dan could make out a young woman’s face, long hair billowing, a strong resemblance to Kate. “So you want me to do your wet work.” “You don’t have to kill him,” Kate said. “Just expose him. Him and his whole rotten scheme. The law will do the rest.” “The same law that screwed me out of my company?” Kate got to her feet and stood eye to eye with Dan. “That’s right. The same law.” He grinned at her righteous anger. “Why should I help you?” “I thought you wanted to save the world.” “Looks like the world doesn’t really want to be saved. And I’ve got my own neck to worry about, thanks to you. And Malik.” Kate studied his face in the low, shadowy lighting for a long moment. Then she turned away and stepped to the farther corner of the desk. “You really don’t have much of an option, Dan. You are a wanted fugitive. All I have to do is call out for security and they’ll burst in here and arrest you.” His grin widened. “And all I have to do is agree to get Gaetano for you and you’ll let me waltz out of here?” “That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.” “You’d trust me once I’m back on Earth, out of your control?” “I know you, Dan Randolph. More than anything else you want to get even with Malik. Destroying Gaetano will go a long way toward toppling Malik, as well. You can see that.” “Maybe.” “And beyond that, you really do want to save the world from this greenhouse disaster, don’t you?” “Maybe,” he repeated, more softly. “So?” “So if I go after Gaetano, won’t that still be dangerous for you? And your sister?” Kate shook her head. “They’ll see the great Dan Randolph attacking them. They won’t even think about me.” “I could get myself killed.” “You’ve got nine lives,” Kate said, almost sneering. “Maybe I did once,” he muttered. “I’ve got a feeling that a lot of them have been used up.” She put both her hands flat on the desktop, leaning forward slightly. “That’s the deal, Dan. I’ll supply you with all the data you need. You nail Gaetano for me.” “Or else?” “Or else I call security and we send you to Malik with an airtight guard around you.” “Hmm.” “And we sweep up all your friends, as well. The big Australian and your old computer hacker and all the other illegals who’ve hiding around Alphonsus.” “You make a strong case for yourself, Scarlett.’ She did not smile. “Well?” “There’s something I want,” said Dan. “You’re in no position to bargain.” Ignoring that, he replied, “I want Tamara Duchamps protected. She’s got nothing to do with this game, there’s no reason for her to get hurt.” “She knows enough for them to want to eliminate her.” “I want your absolute guarantee of her safety,” Dan insisted. “Otherwise no deal.” “I can’t give guarantees, Dan.” “You keep her here under your personal keen eye, Scarlett. Protect her the way you’d protect your sister. You can do that much.” She thought a moment. “Dan, I could agree to that. But it’d be a lie. I can’t protect her. I don’t even know if I can protect my sister and myself. Do you think I’d be asking you for your help if I felt safe here?” It was Dan’s turn to be silent, thinking. She’s telling the truth, he realized. She’s scared and she knows she can’t protect Tamara now that the goons are after her. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll take the kid with me. But I want your promise that you’ll leave those other people alone. They’re not hurting you. They’re no threat to anybody.” “The illegals?” Kate made a disdainful little huff. “They can stay. It’d be more trouble to round them up than it’s worth.” “Deal?” he asked. She let a smile curve her lips. “Deal.” Dan put out his hand. Reaching across the length of the desk, Kate extended hers. They shook hands briefly. But Dan did not let go of her. “One more thing,” he said. “I’m curious. If I had ever made a serious move on you, how would you have reacted?” Kate pulled her hand free. “You’re a hopeless chauvinist to the bitter end, aren’t you? I’m not a person to you, I’m a goddamned set of sex organs!” Dan raised both hands in mock surrender. “Just asking!” He backed away from the desk, then added, “Didn’t you ever even think about it?” “Hardly ever,” Kate snapped. “Hardly ever?” “Security code four-eight-four!” she called out. The phone responded, “Doors unlocked.” “Now get the hell out of here,” Kate said, “before I change my mind and call a live team to arrest you.” “Okay,” said Dan. �
�But I’ll need the data you told me about.” “I’ll send it to Wilcox’s suite at the hotel.” “And you’ll leave the illegals alone?” “Yes,” she snapped. “That’s a promise, now.” “You have my word,” said Kate. Dan nodded, thinking to himself, Not as solid as a written contract but it’ll have to do. Jane Scanwell felt utterly weary as she stepped from the limousine and went to the front door of her apartment building. The chauffeur waited, standing almost at attention beside the limo, until the electronic lock clicked and the ornate iron-grilled door swung open. I wonder if limousines can be converted to electric motors, Jane mused idly as the lift carried her to her floor. The only electric cars I’ve ever seen are so little. It will be ironic if we have to give up some of our luxuries. But it might help in the public relations aspect of the program—if we ever get to the point where we reveal the program to the public. She almost missed the note that had been slipped under the door. It was in a small off-white envelope, lying on the parqueted floor of the entry. Frowning, she bent down and picked up the envelope. No return address. No writing on it at all. She put her purse down on the table beneath the mirror and opened the envelope. It was not even sealed. ALIVE AND WELL AND LIVING IN PARIS . MEET ME AT THE TOP OF THE EIFFEL TOWER TOMORROW AT HIGH NOON. YOU KNOW WHO. Dan! Suddenly Jane’s knees went weak and she sagged against the little table for support. Dan. He’s alive and well and in Paris . She struggled for a moment to regain her breath. The fool! The stupid, arrogant wonderful fool. In Paris . He’s not dead. He’s here and he wants to see me. She thought she would be unable to sleep, but Jane drifted off easily that night, her dreams filled with images of Dan and Morgan and Vasily Malik, all jumbled together. The next morning, dressed in a skirted suit of deep burgundy over a soft pink tailored blouse, she could hardly keep still in the office. You’re behaving like a silly schoolgirl, she berated herself. Yes, a voice in her mind answered. Isn’t it marvelous? Jane did not even notice the drizzling rain until she went down to the porte cochere. The uniformed guard asked if she wanted a limousine called up. “No, thank you,” said Jane, thinking that the limo drivers were GEC employees and kept records of who went where. “A taxi, please.” Taxi companies kept records, too, so Jane told the driver to take her to the old Hilton Hotel. It had been bought and sold a dozen times in the past few decades, but still the taxi drivers knew it as the Hilton. Instead of going to the hotel’s restaurant, Jane went to the clothing store in the lobby and purchased an umbrella for an extravagant price. Then she walked in the chill drizzle the few blocks to the Eiffel Tower . Hardly anyone was there in the gray misty weather. She rode the elevator to the top with a young Oriental couple who seemed to be honeymooners, smiling at each other, oblivious of the weather and of the city spreading around them as the elevator rose higher and higher. The wind was so strong up at the top that Jane feared her umbrella would be torn from her grasp if she opened it. So she hovered in the scant shelter offered by the elevator tube. Where’s Dan ? she wondered, glancing at her wristwatch. It wasquarter past noon . “Late, as usual.” She spun around and he was standing before her, plastic rain hat pulled low over his face, trench-coat collar turned up, grinning like a teenager. Jane flung her arms around his neck and they kissed until even the honeymooners noticed. “I thought you were dead,” she said when they separated slightly. “I thought you wouldn’t give a damn.” “Oh, Dan, let’s stop fighting. No matter what’s happened in the past, no matter what’s going to happen in the future, I love you. I can’t fight it any more. I love you.” “And I’ve loved you ever since I first met you, Jane. All these years I’ve tried to hide it, even from myself. But I love you. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.” Over lunch at the tower’s restaurant Jane brought him up to date on the GEC’s plans and politics. And the Mafia’s interference. And Jeff Robertson’s murder. “So Rafe has actually declined the Council chair, leaving the way clear for Vasily to be elected,” she was saying. Dan frowned at the news. “That means that Malik’s in with them.” “I’ve been wondering about that. I don’t think he’s working for the crime syndicate, but-” “They wouldn’t let him take the chair away from their own man if he wasn’t.” “Maybe he doesn’t realize it?” “My left foot! He’s in with the bastards all right. He’s working hand-in-glove with the people who murdered Jeff Robertson.” Jane stared at him across their little table. “What can we do?” Dan grinned at her. “Same thing that the Founding Fathers did when they were writing the Constitution: trust the people.” “What do you mean?” “We’re going public, Jane. With the whole sorry tale. It’s the only way to smoke these snakes out from under their rocks.” “You mean you want to tell the public about the greenhouse cliff! Dan, you can’t!” “We’ve got to. The longer this program stays in the dark, the longer the crooks have to worm their way in. And the longer Malik has to set himself up as global dictator.” She shook her head warily. Reaching into his jacket pocket, Dan took out a holo cube. Holding it between his thumb and forefinger, he said, “There’s enough data here to blow Gaetano out of the water. But what good is it if the people you give it to are working for the son of a bitch? All it’ll do is get you killed.” “But Dan, if you reveal the news about the greenhouse to the public, people will panic. The consequences could be disastrous?’ “You don’t think they’ll panic once the GEC does release the news?” “Vasily is working out plans to orchestrate the information.” “Leak it out slowly. A drip at a time, like the Chinese water torture.” Obviously displeased with his words, Jane replied: “Isn’t that better than throwing everybody headfirst into the deep end of the pool?’ “No,” said Dan firmly. “This is literally a sink or swim situation, Jane darling. We’ve got to throw a strong light on it. Now.” “You’re mixing metaphors,” she muttered. “But my heart is pure.” “I can’t agree with you about this.” “That’s okay,” he said cheerfully. “All I need is to know that you’ll be on the right side when the shit hits the fan. I’ll do the rest without implicating you.” “You’re going to disappear again?” “For a little while. I’ve got to.” “I had thought . . .’ Her voice trailed off. “Thought what?” “Can’t we just chuck the whole business and go off by ourselves? Nobody’s going to be able to solve all the world’s problems, Dan . Not you, not me, not all of us together. We’ve slaved at it all our lives and what has it gotten us except heartache? Can’t we just run away and live the rest of our lives in peace and be happy together?” “I’m a fugitive from justice, remember?” “I can fix that. You wouldn’t even have to face a trial if I testified that I went to Alphonsus with you willingly.” He leaned back in his chair and studied her. “Where would we go, Jane? Tetiaroa? It’ll be underwater in a few more years. Geneva ? What’ll the Swiss do when the snow on the Alps melts down and floods their valleys? Rome ? New York ? Where?” For long moments Jane said nothing. She sat like a living statue, aubum hair perfectly coiffed, green eyes staring at Dan. Beyond her the restaurant windows showed that the drizzle had turned into a hard slanting rain. The sky, the city beneath, the whole world seemed gray and cold. “You’re right,” she said, in a voice so low Dan could barely hear her, even though the restaurant was nearly empty and very quiet. Dan sighed. “For years I’ve said that when the going gets tough, the tough get going to where the going’s easier. But there’s no place to go, Janie. This is one fight we can’t avoid.” She nodded reluctantly. “It’s just—I thought it would be so good if we could be together.” “We will be.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “We’ll be together, Jane. There’s nothing in the world I want more. We’ll be together—come hell or high water.” Her eyes went wide. Then she burst into laughter. “You certainly know how to choose your words!” He laughed too, thinking how good it was to see her happy, even if it was only for a moment. It’s a myth that sea level is the same everywhere around the world, thought Amory Magee. Bending over his tabletop display, its light throwing weird shadows across his angular face, he saw the world’s oceans and seas as a living, breathing creature in constant motion
, flexing, reaching, writhing with currents. Gaea is the wrong name for this planet of ours, he thought as the display showed him the shifting patterns of ocean currents all around the world. The computer display was created from the sensors of three geostationary satellites, continuously and simultaneously. Ours is an ocean world. Poseidon is a better namesake than any earth goddess. Magee was a solitary man, acknowledged by those in the Oceanographic Institute who had to work with him as a genius, but a prickly one. “Sea level,” he muttered to himself, pushing his large, owlish eyeglasses back into place. They kept slipping down his thin, sharp nose when he bent over the display table. “No such thing as sea level, not really. The Pacific’s higher than the Atlantic , most places. Of course it’s much bigger. And the Arctic could get itself trapped behind the Bering Shelf, it’s been so low in the past. Probably triggered the Ice Age that way.” He often talked to himself, alone in his laboratory. No one contradicted him. He liked that. His eyes focused on the Gulf of Mexico . “Now, there’s a perfect example of what I mean. Trade winds blow the length of the Atlantic and pile the water up in the Gulf until it’s considerably higher than the ocean itself. That’s what generates the Gulf Stream , of course.” Sea levels were rising, and much faster than anyone had anticipated. Magee had faithfully sent his reports to his superiors at the Institute. What they did with them he neither knew nor cared. His interest was in how the oceans were working, how Poseidon was behaving himself. Once in a while he thought idly that, at the rate the sea was rising, they would have to abandon these buildings. The idea of moving filled him with such anxiety, though, that he usually pushed those thoughts out of his conscious mind as soon as they arose. He flicked his fingers across the remote keyboard he held in his hand and data points appeared on the display. Earthquake predictions from the people over in California . Most people thought that earthquakes on the seafloor were nothing to worry about. Magee knew better. His favorite reading was firsthand accounts by the survivors of tsunamis. He enjoyed picturing the wall of water that could sweep miles inland, crushing and drowning everything in its path. “Serves them all right,” he groused. “Poseidon is nobody to take lightly.” A new earthquake prediction had appeared since the last time he surveyed the display. “Somebody’s calling for a quake in the Gulf of Mexico ,” he saw, surprised. “That’s unusual.” Tapping on the hand-held, he saw that the prediction called for a deep temblor, Richter scale seven or higher. “Big one!” Working his remote control again, he saw that under the right circumstances a considerable tsunami could spread from the locus of the seafloor quake. “Florida?” he asked, pecking at the keys. But the tidal wave petered out before it could swamp Florida ’s west coast. “That’s good, I suppose,” he muttered, feeling slightly disappointed. “Florida’s already got enough problems with the sea-level rise. Lots of expensive condominiums are being emptied out, I hear.” The seafloor contours might guide the tsunami onto the Texas Louisiana coast, he realized. “New Orleans is going to be hard hit if these numbers are right.” He tapped one more key and the display showed the timeframe estimate. Within one year. Magee whistled to himself. “Accuracy?” The numbers said plus or minus twelve months. Magee blinked at the numbers. “That means it could happen any day now,” he said to himself. Shaking his head, he added, “I wouldn’t want to be in New Orleans when Poseidon comes calling. Hope somebody’s put out a warning to them.” As they stepped out of the Eiffel Tower elevator into the driving gray rain, Jane popped her umbrella open. The wind nearly pulled it out of her hands. Dan reached for it and helped her steady it. “Where are you staying, she asked. “It’s better if you don’t know.” “In Paris.” “For the time being.” She looked out across the rain-swept park. “I’ll have to get a cab.” “You’ll never get one around here. I’ll walk with you to the Hilton.” “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” “As long as you have the umbrella, yes.” The only other people out on the streets seemed to be a few Japanese tourists, looking wet and bedraggled and miserably unhappy. “Jane, can you set up a meeting with Nobo for me?” “Nobuhiko Yamagata?” “Right. We had a kind of stupid argument the last time we were together. At his father’s freezing. He got pretty sore at me and—“ “He’s not angry anymore. I think he’d like to see you.” “Good,” said Dan. “We could use his help.” “We certainly could.” They parted at the Hilton, Jane waiting in the lobby while the doorman phoned for a taxi, Dan striding off through the rain toward the apartment he had taken, hat pulled low and shoulders hunched against the rain. They did not kiss good-bye. Not at the hotel. Too many people might have seen them. I’ve got to protect her, too, Dan thought, squinting into the chill rain. She may have a GEC bodyguard, but I’ll bet Gaetano’s put himself in charge of security for the whole board. That’d be just their style of operation. Still, he grinned his widest grin as he walked splashing through the puddles on the sidewalks. She loves me. She really loves me. He wished he could sing and dance through the storm like that what’s-his-name in that old video. He wished he could feel like a kid again, so blitzed by the thought that Jane loved him that nothing else mattered. But he knew better. He had the world on his shoulders. Now Jane’s safety was an added problem. Big George and Tamara were waiting for him at the apartment. The four of us against the world, with Malik and Gaetano and the whole double-damned international crime syndicate against us. His grin vanished. I forgot to tell Jane about Tamara. Better remember to do it next time we meet. Got to make certain she doesn’t get the wrong idea about the kid. That could screw up everything.