“When do you anticipate achievement of full production?” Cain asked.
“Fruit trees should begin producing in as little as eighteen months,” Ashlynn began, rising to face the monitor. “With nut-bearing trees coming in around thirty-six months. Hydroponics will begin producing in a few weeks, four or five at most. We can safely predict that pretty much the entire organic root and herb program will be fully operational in one month, as my team and the Chloes are transferring seedlings around the clock.”
““Excellent!” Cain said, semijovially. “That will be all for now.”
Dr. Phu nervously looked about the room for a moment, lowered her head, shut her laptop, and quickly gathered her belongings. No one uttered a word as Ashlynn left the meeting under the intimidating glare of Cain.
The door to the conference room hadn’t been closed for more than a second when Dr. Wyczthack suddenly changed his demeanor, smiled, and visually scanned the faces of the remaining collective.
“Where is Mr. Huddleston?” he gleefully asked. “Is he in attendance?”
“Yes, sir!” Light answered energetically with a loud chuckle and wave of his arm. “I’m here! Present! Don’t mark me absent!”
Light Huddleston had been leaning in the corner, obscured by the other attendees.
“Ah, yes, Mr. Huddleston. Just the man I want to see.”
“Yes, sir! Anything you need … just … count me in! I’m here to help!”
Light’s overexuberance didn’t go unnoticed, as the pear-shaped man clasped his hands together and wrung them.
“Tell me, Light, how many switchbacks do you currently oversee at the SUBOS shipping and receiving docks?”
“Uh, that’d be ten switchbacks, a roundhouse, and nearly five linear miles of track.”
“Good, good,” Cain replied, nodding his head.
“Now, Dr. White and I have been in close and constant contact with both Burlington Northern and Union Pacific, as well as the Department of the Interior, Department of Transportation, Department of Parks and Recreation, and the BLM. To ensure that Engenechem and its partners are on target with our schedules, projects, and agendas, we have come to the decision that we must expand our resources on the ground and increase our capabilities with the staging, efficacy, and efficiency of the SUBOS and CARBEL elevator systems.”
“Yes, sir!” Light answered, slightly rocking his hips from side to side, still wringing his hands together.
“We’re laying two additional track lines from two different hubs, El Paso and San Diego. I’ve been told that Engenechem can expect complete cooperation and that both double lines will be ready in eighteen months.”
The team of scientists looked about the room in amazement at the projected time of construction.
“Sir,” said one man, “that’s almost twenty-one hundred miles of new track.”
“Yes, we’re all well aware of the distance,” Cain smugly admitted.
“What about the EPA? The conservationists? Permits and Bureau of Indian Affairs? I think this ….”
“Yes, yes, I know. We’ve secured the assistance of the Railroad Commissions for Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, and California. Everything has been agreed to regarding private land, eminent domain, wildlife, natural habitat restoration … there is absolutely nothing we haven’t thought of or developed a contingency plan for. We’ll have our rails down and running in eighteen months.”
Cain singled out and stared at the man, concentrating his glare on the one who dared to question his idea.
“Sir?” Light peeped, “What do you need from me? How can I help?”
“That’s what I want to hear!” Dr. Wyczthack bellowed. “Optimism!”
“You will soon be in contact with the engineers for Burlington-Northern Suffolk, and will coordinate a time when they’ll come out to the SUBOS and plot the locations for the additional switchbacks and loadouts for the Ark and Cloud prestaging zones. Those locations are of high importance. The more that we can assemble prior to deployment on the CARBEL, the faster we’ll complete the projects.”
Light stared at the mammoth monitor as if waiting for additional instructions.
“That will be all, Mr. Huddleston,” Cain politely remarked, smiling at the eager man.
Like Dorothy and her friends in the presence of the great and powerful Oz, Light stared in curious awe and fascination at Cain’s image.
“You can return to your duties now,” Cain suggested.
“Yes, sir. Yes, sir,” Light stated, bowing slightly. “Thank you, sir.”
As Light scurried to the conference room doors, the remaining staff cleared their throats, shifted in their chairs, and stretched their arms.
“All right,” Cain began, “moving on. Arks and collection. Where do we stand? Where’s Larry and Gary?”
The Tartt Brothers and their assistant, Floyd Arp, were handpicked by Dr. White to oversee the safe capture and relocation of the world’s animals. All three men were experienced outdoorsmen, survivalists, hunters, and conservationists. With degrees from Texas A & M, TCU, and Cal-Poly, the trio had more than forty years of education and combined had almost eighty years of animal study in their natural habitats. From the Amazon basin to the deserts of New Mexico, the frozen tundra of the Arctic Circle and Siberia to the jungles of Africa, these men of men had seen and done all.
“I’m here,” Gary hollered in his Texas drawl, waving his arm from the back of the room.
“And where is the rest of your team? Where’s your brother?” Cain inquired, looking about.
“Sir, my brother Larry just ain’t feeling well; he couldn’t make it. And Floyd is in South Africa on safari, tagging and tracking elephant, black rhinoceros, and impala.”
“And what is our current status with Project Noah?” Cain probed.
“Well, sir, that’s all kinda dependent on the situation with the progress here in Nevada. We been collecting blood samples and tagging everything we come up on, but hadn’t really seen a need for extraction and relocation … thus far.”
“What does your team require to know to begin the process of transferring your acquisitions?” Dr. Wyczthack asked, visually aggravated by the news of the slow progression.
“Well, for one, the water. How’re we looking at getting the pipeline finished?”
“Xylem has around ninety percent of the pipeline completed,” Cain announced. “The long-term underground storage vessels have been put in place, and the DOD and Navy have assembled all fifteen distilleries. We need only to complete the last thirty-five miles of pipeline installation and will be ready to begin pumping soon thereafter.”
“Well, to be perfectly honest, as soon as I get wind of the pipeline performing to its full capacity, we can have at least thirty to forty percent of our captured specimens on your front doorstep in just about a week.”
The staff was all abuzz when Gary revealed the speed at which the animals of the world would arrive.
“Excuse me, Gary,” a woman seated at the table spoke up, “but when you say forty percent of your ‘specimens’ will be on our doorstep, what exactly does that entail?”
“That means you’re gonna get six elk, twelve anacondas, eighteen North American bison, twelve silverback gorillas … we’re ploppin’ everything we can lay our hands on right in your lap. That’s the whole point of this endeavor. Right? These artificial environments y’all been constructing, cisterns, and the subterranean enclosures … we’re ready to….”
“Yes, Gary, I know the objective! There’s no reason to be condescending about it!”
“Who’s being condescending? I’m just answerin’ your question. Look, I got nearly three thousand people scattered all over the world that do nothing but follow, track, capture, tag, and take blood samples of every living creature they encounter. That doesn’t include the schools and universities, private institutions, conservation societies, zoos, reserves and sanctuaries and so forth we’re partnering with. There’s about twenty thousand individuals
out there finding beetles, centipedes, scorpions, rattlesnakes, ostriches, loons, cranes, orangutans, giraffes, and wild boars. So when you ask me what’s coming? That’s what’s coming! And like I said, when the water starts flowin,’ gimme a shout and you’ll have what we have in a week.”
“I hate snakes,” whispered the man sitting next to Gary.
“Thank you, Gary,” Cain said. “I would advise you and your teams to begin centralizing your specimens in preparation for delivery in roughly three weeks.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll pass that along to Larry and Floyd.”
Gary tipped his hat to Cain, pushed himself back away from the table, and made his way to the door. He hadn’t yet reached out for the door handle before everyone began discussing what particular species of animals they would be most interested in seeing up close. The reality of the Ark program struck a nerve with the brood of intellectuals. Before, it was just one of hundreds of intangible aspects of the Engenechem project calendar. But now, particularly after listening to Gary, the prospect of placing a hand on a hippopotamus, peacock, lemur, or Arctic fox sent a surge of emotional energy throughout the collective minds and hearts of Cain’s think tank.
“All right, children, settle down,” Dr. Wyczthack instructed. “Each of you will have more than enough time and opportunity to visit the petting zoo. For now, I need you to….”
“Sir?” Amanda Castro called. “Three years ago Riggs, Light, and I had a lengthy discussion regarding incoming freight, supplies, and materials. At that time, Mr. Huddleston made it abundantly clear that he hadn’t any room for more incoming cargo. And that was with all ten switchbacks filled to capacity. If I may be so bold as to inquire, how many switchbacks do you intend to install and where?”
“Yes, Miss Castro,” Cain responded flatly, removing his glasses. “Tell me, how does this affect you and your job?”
“Well, sir, it affects my job tremendously!” she stated, slightly raising her voice as she clicked open a file on her laptop. “When you instruct Mr. Arp and the Tartt Brothers to ramp up for delivery in three weeks, that greatly impacts my ability to prioritize and shift cars coming out of Houston and Galveston. This increase in rail traffic doesn’t even address our backup for Kansas. I got….”
“Okay, okay, Miss Castro,” Cain quickly interrupted. “I’ll visit with you in private and address your questions and concerns.”
“But sir….”
“Miss Castro!” Dr. Wyczthack growled. “I trust that I made myself clear when I said I will speak with you in private!”
“Yes, sir,” Amanda meekly replied, bowing her head in embarrassment as she closed her computer.
No one moved while Cain surveyed the fear-stricken faces of his employees.
“I will now run through, and briefly touch on, what we’ve discussed here today. Before I begin, are there any more questions, concerns, or comments?”
Cain again slowly scanned the room, just itching for anyone to question his authority.
“Good. Now, in three weeks’ time, Xylem will have completed the pipeline installation and the DOD and Navy will initiate the distilleries. Mr. Arp and the Tartt Brothers will immediately consolidate their specimens in preparation for delivery to the SUBOS. Eden is now operational and they’re currently transferring seedlings and roots to the hydroponic containers. The BNSF engineers will meet with us to determine where to place the new switchbacks and load out zones for Ark and Cloud staging. Twenty-one hundred miles of new track lines from El Paso and San Diego will be laid in, or under, eighteen months.”
Cain finished his summary with all the fanfare of a wet paper towel. No one smiled, no one spoke, and nobody dared look up at his face on the monitor.
“Thank you all for your time. That’s it for today. Miss Castro, please come to my office at once.”
The image of Dr. Wyczthack suddenly disappeared and the monitor went black. A couple of seconds later, the Engenechem name and corporate logo popped up on the behemoth screen. It was at that moment that the staff in the conference room felt free to relax, slouch in their chairs, and speak to one another.
“Man! What’s his problem today?” asked a man seated next to Amanda. “He’s got a God complex….”
Amanda immediately turned to face him, placed her finger over her lips to shush him, and discreetly pointed up at the ceiling. The man stopped at midsentence and glanced upward. On the ceiling were dozens of small, dark-colored glass domes, spaced across the ceiling tiles in a grid.
Amanda reached into her bag and pulled out a miniature yellow legal tablet. She quickly scribbled a note and showed the man what she wrote. ‘Cain is watching and listening. EVERYTHING!’ the message read. Amanda ripped off the sheet of paper, wadded it in a ball, then placed the notepad and ball of paper in her bag.
“Have a great week,” Amanda said with additional volume, trying to end the conversation. “I need to go up and visit with Dr. Wyczthack.”
“Wait a minute,” the man hissed, reaching out for Amanda’s arm. “Why did Cain interrupt you? What’s so important about Kansas?”
Amanda twisted back to face the man, turned her eyes upward, and whispered, “There’s a lot of amazing history about the Kansas salt mines on the Internet. You oughta take a close look and see for yourself.”
CHAPTER 18
HARVEST
‘I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes,’ Chloe’s message read.
‘Why not? This was the whole point of Eden, right?’ Armada speedily typed and clicked ‘send.’
He turned back, slowly, away from the computer. The glowing green light of the overhead camera didn’t flicker as he gingerly inched his way to the observation window. He remembered how vast, expansive, and beautiful Earth’s upper atmosphere looked from this vantage point. Arena One and its connected dormitories, once the largest man-made objects in space, were now dwarfed in comparison to the three Arks and the even larger Eden.
The communication kiosk binged, alerting Armada that he had received a response from Chloe.
‘It’s a far cry from reading and imagining to actually holding a strawberry that weighs almost half a pound. I understand the chemistry of it, but it’s the rate of growth that’s fascinating. Have you ever watched anything grow? And I don’t mean by time-lapse photography. But actually sit and do nothing but watch one plant grow?’
‘No, I can’t rightly say I have,’ he admitted. ‘Not a whole lot of agricultural and horticulture observation opportunities in computer programming and encryption.’
‘Very funny. There are strains of corn down here that are accumulating ten to twelve inches of growth in under twenty-four hours.’
‘Pop any yet?’
‘Funny. You’re a real funny guy tonight. But seriously, this is the most exciting thing I’ve ever been part of. Dr. Phu is now scheduling harvests every forty-eight hours.’
‘Forty-eight hours? That’s impossible!’
‘That’s exactly what I would have said twelve months ago. I am constantly recording yields; almost half of my shift is spent doing nothing but weighing, tracking production, taking pictures, and data entry. Dr. Phu said we broke projected yields for the month … in seventeen days.’
‘You’re joking!’ Armada declared.
‘No! Really! In twelve hours we harvested three-and-a-half tons.’
‘That would be an awesome sight to see.’
‘Speaking of sight, when do I get to see you again? I’ve almost forgotten what you look like. Terminal screens and keyboards aren’t an acceptable replacement for a real person.’
‘I wish I could arrange another visit,’ Armada typed and paused before sending the instant message.
He waited and waited for Chloe’s reply.
‘Do you really want to see me again?’ her incoming message read. ‘Because it would mean the world to me to spend a little time with you. Messaging a few nights a week for a few years just isn’t satisfying.’
Armada smiled to
himself and struggled to stifle his giggle. Before he could answer Chloe’s intimate inquiry, another green flag appeared on the monitor with an accompanying ding.
‘This might sound strange, but I have to ask you something,’ she wrote.
Armada waited, but a follow-up message didn’t appear.
‘Hello?’ he typed, along with, ‘Are you there?’
As he was finishing his note, Chloe sent her message.
‘Have you been feeling well lately? Specifically, has anything happened to you, or has there been any strange or odd occurrences?’
Armada read through the note several times and selected his words carefully before answering.
‘Strange, like how? I feel fine, but have noticed that I feel differently. I’m not sick and I don’t feel bad in any one particular way; I just feel different. Somehow I know my end of life cycle isn’t kicking in, at least not like Titan. Why do you ask? Are you all right? Did something happen?’
Armada hovered next to the kiosk, impatiently waiting for Chloe to respond to his questions.
‘I’m like you,’ her letter began., ‘I don’t necessarily feel bad, but just since the day before yesterday I’ve felt more, if that makes any sense. And yes, there was a specific and significant occurrence. I’ve tried not to make a big deal of it and have spoken to only a few of my station mates about this, nonchalantly of course. As we were dressing to go to the commissary, I swear that I heard a man say ‘Stay’ right after morning announcements. I asked a couple of my sisters if they heard what the man said, but they all stared at me as if I were crazy. After the other girls left, I finished dressing and stood up from tying my boots. I didn’t even get one foot off the ground and that same voice said, ‘Stay here.’ It was louder, firm, and direct, but it didn’t sound mean. I heard it in me, inside me, but I wasn’t afraid. If anything, somehow I felt comfortable, maybe even good. I haven’t had any supplements for nearly three days. Is this weird? Do you think they’ll find out I’m not going to the commissary?’
Xn Page 18