The Click

by Steve Shear

  The General had Rousseau by the collar. “Fool! Idiot! I should have let you rot in Paris. How could you let her go?”

  The Minister stepped into view. “You’re the fool, Rosewall.” He approached the two of them and pushed them apart. “She didn’t let Wu go. We took her, and for good reason. We need to find that fucking village in the jungles of India.”

  ****

  After the taxi carrying Meta and Hitch put Mumbai’s downtown behind them, they approached the Jewish School of Learning on the east coast of the city not far from Chembur. The atmosphere became carnival-like, astonishing Hitch, although from where he sat Meta seemed unruffled. Cars, trucks, the media, people everywhere, and holograms emanating from every possible device filled the streets with a rainbow haze of overlapping images. They were no more discernable than a jigsaw puzzle under several pounds of sludge. He saw children eating cotton candy and sucking on lollipops as the taxi pushed and shoved its way through the hordes of onlookers. And signs everywhere. Some extolled the Click, others rejected it. One group held up a banner—UnClick Us Now. Another group of priests and clergy brandish their own battle-cry—The Click Is Divine. VAMA hearses dotted the landscape like a heavy dose of pepper on the white of an egg.

  As they pushed through, slowly, a crowd gathered around an eccentric-looking preacher who stood on the hood of a car with a megaphone. Nearby, a woman and six children of all ages sang Amazing Grace. Hitch opened his window in order to better hear the preacher.

  “Rally around the Cūtocracy and our beloved smotec. The Click is God’s way of protecting the Earth and its children from overpopulation.” Hitch counted all the children and had to laugh.

  The taxi maneuvered its way through the crowd and moved closer to the preacher. Hitch turned back and noticed a shuttle bus on their tail as the carnival atmosphere thickened.

  “What the hell? How did all these people and the media know where…”

  Meta smiled. “I’m afraid it was me. Let the world know the truth and it will act. That’s my motto, Oliver.”

  Hitch started to respond but was cut off by the preacher, who continued on. “We have known nothing but prosperity. No cancer. No heart attacks. No war since the Great Plague.”

  As the taxi pulled closer to the curb with the shuttle right behind, the preacher droned on. “And it was the Almighty who saw fit to provide us with a means for attaining the prosperity we have come to take for granted. God has given us a gift, the Click. Now, a war is being waged against the peace we cherish. Now, the Almighty’s enemies are hell-bent on taking it away from us! The devil is among us, dear people.”

  ****

  McGivney vanished as fast as he came, just long enough to harass them, Rousseau thought. He took Wu? The shit-ass German worked for McGivney? She looked over at Rosewall after watching the High Minister close the door behind him. “What now?”

  “I don’t trust the son-of-a-bitch. I’m going to need you in Mumbai, near that so called Jewish School of Learning. The powers here at the Cūtocracy are a thread’s thickness away from convincing the UN to pull back and…”

  “Pull back?” Rousseau wasn’t following.

  “The entire UN fleet under VAMA’s authority, under my authority, are convening in Mumbai as we speak. It has the ability to destroy everyone at that so called School of Learning if it has to and I don’t want McGivney or the UN to fuck it up.” The General nodded as if satisfied with his pronouncement then turned to the window and looked out. Rousseau followed his stare. She saw McGivney walking toward the Vatican.

  “What about the village in the jungles of…”

  “There is no God damn village. McGivney is delusional. And if the UN doesn’t have the balls to pull out the plugs, then, Rousseau, you and I and those loyal to me, and only me, will do what needs to be done. Do you understand?” He looked over at her.

  She smiled. “Anything you say, boss.” Christ! Am I on the right side of battle? I have Rosewall on one side, McGivney on the other side, and Hitchcock in front of me, Rousseau said to herself as she continued to wonder. For sure I’m not going to get in bed with that one-armed asshole, Julian Iscar. Maybe it’s time to retire and look after my kid.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  With the help of a group of black men, the taxi and shuttle wedged through a storm of journalists who caught them stopping near the gate of the School of Learning. Hitch jumped out from the taxi and pulled Meta with him. Most of the black men, DanShebans Hitch guessed, held back the crowd, allowing them to reach the gate.

  He watched two of the DanShebans enter the shuttle and lead Barnaby off, followed by Kathy, and then someone Hitch didn’t recognize, Dr. Ringthaller he presumed. Kathy waited by the shuttle door as the two DanShebans went back on and brought Christopher off in a gurney along with an IV bottle and tubes.

  Before Hitch realized it, Barnaby was standing next to him. “He’s sedated and no changes for the worst,” Barnaby whispered.

  “And Kathy?”

  “Up and down, I’m afraid. I have a feeling actually being here, not in the abstract, is going to throw her for a loop.”

  Hitch nodded, then approached the gurney and looked at Kathy. She glanced away. He inspected Christopher’s V-Mark and bit his tongue, trying not to grimace. It seemed larger and blacker. The roughness around the edges was blistering and migrating to the center. He couldn’t help but wonder whether he had the three weeks he told Delahunt he needed to…to what? He looked around. Jesus! What have I done? With that question rumbling through his brain he turned back to his daughter.

  “Kathy.”

  She stepped toward him as a soldier ready to do battle with the enemy might and confronted him with venom in her eyes. “What are we doing in this hellhole? Christopher’s death will be on your soul, just as…” She stopped herself.

  As he was about to say something, not sure what considering he was asking himself the same question, he felt the immediate presence of an older man and younger woman, both Indians. He felt the man tug at his sleeve.

  “As promised. Here she is.” Julian announced in a whisper.

  Barnaby, obviously overhearing that, rushed over and put his arms around Elana just as the gate to the Jewish School of Learning opened. Julian turned to leave when Hitch stepped in his path.

  “I think not,” Hitch barked.

  “I delivered,” Julian shot back, now close enough for Hitch to smell the Indian makeup that transformed his friend into his enemy.

  “I can see that but what’s the rush?”

  Julian tried to step around Hitch. “I wasn’t planning on…”

  Hitch laughed. “Consider this Plan B.” He took Julian by his real arm and coerced his friend through the gate which closed behind all of them.

  Meta, who now stood next to Hitch, picked up her scud and made a call. “We’re here as planned… Yes, all of us including Dr. Wu. It’s like a circus outside the gates, as I had hoped… I will. And let the president know.”

  Meta led them past the one-room school houses that Hitch recognized and a long one-story building that contained all the administrative offices. Near the far end of the campus grounds, she directed them into the Teacher’s House, a three-story home large enough to house many people comfortably. A late evening buffet of cold cuts, fruit, salad, and brownies for dessert monopolized the large dining room table. Coffee, tea, and juices sat on the sidebar under the dining room window. In the meantime, three of the DanShebans gathered up every one’s luggage and personal belongings and took them away.

  “I suggest we all take a deep breath, relax, and eat up,” Meta announced as she took a clean plate and stepped to the table.

  “Shouldn’t we get settled and unpack?” Kathy asked.

  “I think we can wait for that, my dear,” Meta said as she continued to fill her plate.

  For the next forty-five minutes, the group—including a number of the DanShebans—sat in front of a fire blazing within a beautiful used brick fireplace. It served as the
focal point in a very large living room. Barnaby, Kathy, and Hitch ate in one corner around a game table with Christopher in his gurney next to her. Kathy only nibbled, refusing to look at her father. Dr. Ringthaller sat on the other side of the gurney close to his charge. The doctor looked to be about forty, Hitch thought. He was a quiet man, thin, with thick red hair and wore dark rimmed glasses. Hitch was glad he came along.

  Just as everyone was finishing, Elana stepped into the living room carrying a full plate, with new clothes and looking like herself. Hitch couldn’t help but stare.

  Kathy looked at her watch and then glanced over at her son. “I think it’s time we retire. She jumped from her chair and walked around the gurney to talk to Dr. Ringthaller. Hitch bit his tongue and followed his daughter’s every move.

  Elana sat in the now empty chair next to Hitch. He took her hands in his, below the table’s edge so no one would see. Their eyes met. “I was beginning to think we might never have that pizza together,” he said with a smile that was meant to be more than a smile.

  She squeezed his hand and, ignoring any onlookers, reached over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for getting me out of that place.”

  He wanted to kiss her back but stopped short after glancing over at Kathy, who glared at him.

  Elana shifted her attention to the three figures across the room, Julian sitting on the steps with a DanSheban on either side. She looked back at Hitch, questioningly.

  “It’s a long story. Later.” He rose from his chair and approached Kathy and the doctor. She turned her back on him and marched toward the bathroom.

  Just as Kathy returned, Meta stepped into the living room. “If everyone has had enough, please leave your plates where they are and follow me.”

  Rather than lead them up a beautiful light oak winding staircase to the bedrooms on the second and third floors, as everyone had expected, she directed them along a narrow hallway, down a dozen steps, and into a large dorm room. Meta asked everyone to step away from the center of the room when a large rectangle in the tile floor began pivoting downwards, as if by magic, exposing an opening into what appeared to be a cellar. Shortly thereafter, a set of portable stairs leading downwards mysteriously appeared from below.

  Just as all the confusion rang loudly across everyone’s face, a DanSheban in a black T-shirt and blue denim overalls came up the steps from below, nodded to Meta without saying a word, and dropped back into the shadows below.

  “I believe we are ready,” Meta said and began leading the entire party into the cellar. “There are twelve steps down so please be careful and hold on to the railing.”

  It took three DanShebans and Hitch to bring Christopher down on his gurney. Once they were all below ground, Meta motioned them to move up against one wall forming part of a large dimly lit basement. A set of what looked to be railroad tracks ran across the floor from a tunnel less than fifty yards away. No one spoke. They were too astonished and as they took in the scene, two DanShebans rolled the stairs out from under the opening and into one corner of the basement. The floor automatically moved back up to close off the subterranean ceiling. As it did, Hitch felt the ground rumble under his feet. A miniature train with engines on the front and back appeared out from the tunnel as if by magic. It rounded the corner before stopping in front of them.

  “Would someone pinch me,” Barnaby finally said and everyone burst out laughing.

  The engineer, another DanSheban, jumped from the front engine and hurried to the back engine while the passengers were helped on by the DanShebans that had brought Christopher down. Two of those DanShebans stayed with Julian while Hitch sat with Elana, and Barnaby sat with Meta. There was a flatbed car behind Hitch for Christopher’s gurney. Dr. Ringthaller sat behind the gurney and Kathy sat in front of it. Hitch turned back to Kathy who again looked away. He took a deep breath and sighed.

  Elana squeezed his arm and whispered in his ear. “She’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  The train hummed through miles of underground passages that made Hitch wonder. How long ago were they dug? How did the DanShebans managed to dig them without anyone knowing? One thing was for sure. These were people to reckon with.

  Each turn to the left and right, and there were many, bolstered his confidence that they were on the right track. He laughed aloud at the unintended pun. Elana turned and smiled. She surely was beautiful, he thought. Hopefully she was just as smart when it came to the vaccine. That thought caused him to look back at his grandson and his daughter. She leaned over Christopher and combed her fingers through his hair. Hopefully Elana was right; Kathy would be fine, but only if her remaining son lived. He clinched his teeth and closed his eyes trying his best to sidestep his role in this genetic debacle.

  Before long, they pulled into another large cellar similar to the previous one. Several DanShebans escorted them up the same type of portable stairs and into the back of a warehouse. From there two black men wearing black jackets with East Bombay Fish Co printed across their backs led them out of the warehouse and onto a dilapidated wharf. In the distance a flotilla of large VAMA warships could be seen at the East Bombay Wharf, and that image quickly deflated Hitch’s confidence.

  Chapter Thirty

  The party boarded a large wooden barge with thickly varnished oak-paneled sides. It was built high off the water requiring everyone to navigate a half dozen ladder steps before reaching the deck, surrounded entirely by a three-foot-high wall. Here again Christopher had to be lifted up with the help of Hitch and several DanShebans. Once aboard, they were all directed to tables and chairs under a roof covered lounge with openings all around.

  Within no time at all, they left Mumbai and headed east through the various inlets, creeks they were called. Before long the barge glided across the water under a moonlit sky into the underbelly of India, into the shadows of its jungle thicket, into a new chapter in the fight of Oliver Hitchcock’s life. For several hours they meandered to the left and the right and the left again, taking different forks in the river as it snaked its way deeper into the heart of darkness.

  Hitch stood at the bow, alone, gazing at the moon’s reflection on the water and the constantly narrowing and widening shorelines on opposite sides. Beyond the frontage walls of moonlit green, he saw only snippets of the jungle’s ever-present eyes peeking out of utter blackness.

  “Our magic carpet to DanSheba,” Meta declared as she stepped up to the railing beside him.

  Hitch wondered about that. “What I don’t get is how you’ve managed to keep DanSheba a secret. VAMA technology has…”

  “Geography, my friend. You’ll see. And thousands of years of practice. Secrecy is part of the DanSheban’s DNA.”

  “At your house we talked about educated DanShebans throughout the world constantly in touch with your not so little village of high technology.”

  “Too crazy for you to believe?”

  “So crazy I couldn’t tell Barnaby.”

  Meta shrugged, as if she understood. “So Julian is a Tarsusian?”

  “Is? Was, that’s for sure.”

  “But he is our spy? Yes?”

  Hitch hesitated. He knew the answer to that question but was having trouble making sense of it, and more trouble spitting it off his tongue. “Yeah, but why deliver Elana?”

  Meta stared back without an answer, then turned away from Hitch and headed for the stern. “You’re the expert.”

  Much later, as the group sat in the covered lounge watching the partially clouded sky, now moonless but sparkling with other heavenly bodies, one of the DanShebans began dropping down thick transparent plastic sheets from the roof. “In a few minutes you will see why we have done this,” he explained with a smile that said he could not wait for his guests to see what was about to happen. “Please, hold tight to your seats. We will be making a very sharp turn to the right momentarily.”

  Sure enough, a few minutes later, as they experienced serious turbulence, the barge started into a sharp right turn. To everyone’
s surprise they headed directly into a gigantic waterfall at least six stories high. By then, Christopher was sitting up on his gurney and hooting loud enough to be heard over the thunder of crashing whitewater. They continued straight ahead through one edge of its majestic curtain. The mist was so thick, the sound so deafening, Hitch could hardly see the others or hear his own thoughts of amazement. Once they passed through the backside of the waterfall, the churning river turned to glass, the roar to silence, and the mist to seemingly crisp dry air. They moved smoothly into a cavern void of light other than what came from the barge. For the next hour or so, they talked quietly across an immense seemingly shoreless lake before exiting into a narrow river imprisoned on both sides by walls of jungle thicket a hundred shades of green made visible by the rising sun.

  ****

  Rousseau couldn’t get to Mumbai fast enough. At Rosewall’s insistence, she brought the Blue Cube, ever fearful that it would be discovered by authorities more powerful than the general. She reached her hotel near the East Bombay Wharf in Mumbai, hid the Blue Cube as best she could, and then took a taxi to the wharf. The entire area had turned into a multi-ring circus, actually more like a citywide festival of competing interests. Hordes of people assaulted the streets, restaurants, and shops—onlookers, the media running around with cameras and microphones, and angry demonstrators from both sides. Many of the signs read Down with the Cūtocracy; others, Atheist America—Burn in Hell; and still others Only a Clock should Click.

  She had never seen so many VAMA agents blanketing the area. They patrolled the streets, poked in and out of the shops, and monopolized the water. A dozen battle-ready riverboats serving as battleships and carriers for helicopters overwhelmed the wharf with their flags waving in the breeze; VAMA India, VAMA Neuropa, VAMA China, and others. Why were they there? Where were they going? She knew the answers but still could not wrap her arms around DanSheba. Certainly they weren’t all needed to flatten a schoolyard filled with dissidents.