"Remember what happened with your story in Alaska? This is much bigger than you can take on alone. If you air this, they will definitely come after you. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."
The transmission ended abruptly. Without an antenna for the radio waves to go to, their energy fried the transmitter's delicate electronics. Sparks and a puff of smoke left little doubt about the radio's condition.
"Dad? Dad!"
The darkness of silence filled the channel. Several black SUVs appeared at the bottom of the hill. Heavily-armed Troopers in black combat uniforms were riding on the vehicles' step boards. The militaristic off-road vehicles tore up the gravel that covered the small fire-road on their way towards Isabelle. She saw her father's eyes looking at her with love.
"I love you, dad!" she shouted and jumped back on her bike.
A smile came over Lionel's face. He felt the love and admiration Isabelle had for him. The warm midday sun illuminated a man behind his window who knew more about all this than he liked. He also knew his daughter, the journalist. The SUVs had come half way up the incline. Isabelle broke eye contact with her father to put on her helmet and start the engine of her enduro. Without waiting another beat, she sped off. Isabelle reached the pinnacle of the hill where the road terminated in a fire-department helipad. The large concrete area was lined on one side by a row of bright red hydrants. Isabelle loved the top of this little mountain. The plateau overlooked the Silverlake, which until a year ago had been a drinking-water reservoir. She looked at the avocado grove that covered the west face of the hill. It had been planted in a deal that gave Apophis permission to drain the lake and harvest underground oil reserves. Silverlake had been deemed hazardous to human health from a non-permitted test drill during Christmas weekend a few years prior.
Isabelle raced down through the many avocado trees. She recognized that humans were very much a part of the nature from which they sprang. The way Isabelle saw it, Mother Nature looked out for those who protected her. This would be no different. It didn't seem odd to her at all that when she needed it, she found the protection of a forest that shouldn't exist. It was as if it had to come into existence for a greater plan to take place. The SUVs had reached the cement platform at the crest of the hill. Isabelle caught a glimpse of them in her rearview mirror and saw the convoy turning back. She had only one thought: to save her father.
Inside the water-bottle truck, Tasha watched in fascination as her prey evaded the convoy of Troops. She so rarely encountered a worthy opponent. She loved to challenge herself as a warrior.
"Let me see a close-up of the package from the bird."
The pilot of the remote-control helicopter made a few changes and the image zoomed in until Isabelle's face filled the main view-screen of her spy truck. The noise of the engine and of avocado branches whipping against Isabelle's helmet covered the sound of Tasha's drone. Tasha's command post and platoon were on their way to the other side of the hill. It was a slow drive. The roads were jammed for miles with traffic on its way to the Hollywood Bowl. The doors to the amphitheater had opened for an evening of fireworks and classical music as part the week-long celebrations of the Apophis merger.
After a relatively swift ride, Isabelle parked her bike and walked over to a pay phone in a parking lot at the bottom of the avocado grove. The drone's imaging system had been programmed to follow the position of Isabelle's tooth transmitter. Her picture remained framed with the precision and relentlessness of a machine. Isabelle found a dollar in change in her pocket, just enough for a local call. She picked up the receiver and dropped the shining coins into the phone's slot. As she punched in the number, it appeared on one of Tasha's screens. Isabelle dialed the last digit and Tasha's display read:
Call to Fuji Satori - Call Screen Active.
A computer voice announced: "No one is available right now. Please leave a message after the tone."
Isabelle's words appeared on the tooth monitor as she spoke them.
"Fuji, things have gotten worse. I need to speak to you in private. Could you please meet me where we used to watch the whales? I'll be there at sunset - look for the Jungle Gem."
One of the Troopers typed on his keyboard. He cross-referenced Jungle Gem with Isabelle's dossier. "That would be the SS Jungle Gem, package holds registry to the vessel. GPS confirms the ship in her berth at Marina Del Rey." A few more keystrokes and the Trooper continued. "Cell phone and credit card records indicate only seaside location where both parties met at regular intervals to be the Falafel Frigate located on the Santa Monica pier." Tasha wasn't the kind of hunter who liked to chase after someone. She enjoyed that her technology enabled her to know where Isabelle was going to be so she could be waiting there well-prepared. It gave Tasha the home advantage; "Release the call," was her command to the Trooper who transferred Isabelle's message to Fuji's voicemail.
With the click of a mouse, Fuji had an incoming message displayed on his phone.
14 JUNGLE GEM
Isabelle took the freeway to change up her travel pattern. This was a day when she welcomed all the traffic around her which appeared to have taken the place of Tasha's Troopers. After a tedious ride in traffic that shared many qualities with taffy, Isabelle arrived at the marina. As soon as she took her helmet off, the buzzing of the drone overhead confirmed that she still wasn't alone. Isabelle unlocked the gridded door to the dock. She could feel the stare of her pursuer’s electronic eye boring through her as she walked to her ship's mooring place.
The 'Jungle Gem' was a stunning 40-foot sailboat with enough amenities to circumnavigate the globe. A tall mast rose to the heavens from its teak deck. Below, a well-equipped galley was part of a large multipurpose area connected to ample state rooms in the bow and stern. Isabelle opened a dockside locker and pulled out a toolbox. With it in hand, she boarded her vessel. Isabelle took out a cordless screwdriver and, starting with the pilot's station, made a sweep of the entire vessel removing electronics. It didn't take Isabelle long - the lockbox on the dock was brimming with sonar, radar, GPS, the ship's radio and anything else that might have provided an opportunity to be tracked or watched by an outsider. She hadn't carried a watch or phone since the day before. Isabelle extended her arm towards the sun which was nearing the horizon over the pacific. Two fingers width was left between sun and ocean which meant to Isabelle 20 minutes until sunset. That was how long she needed to reach her rendezvous with Fuji. Isabelle was in the rhythm of the universe. She closed up the lockbox and turned to untie her boat at the stern when Isabelle's eyes caught her name. She had named the ship in honor of her mother. Gemma had vanished in the firestorm that destroyed the jungle village where she worked on her research. The only time when they had all lived as a family was during the years right after Isabelle was born. She had been too young then to understand what her mother's research was about, but Isabelle's childhood gave her a fun familiarity with natural sciences. It was this familiarity that had kept her interested in physics and chemistry all her life. Her mother had so often told her that understanding was the key to a greater life. Often, Isabelle wondered if her mother had solved the mysteries of the universe before she perished. A flock of seagulls swarmed around Isabelle's head and shook her out of her daydream. It was time for the Jungle Gem to cast off. It took Isabelle just a few moments to remove its blue rain cover and hoist the main sail before she was on her way out of the marina.
Just a little way up the coast, the Santa Monica pier was bustling with people. The cool ocean air was filled with the aroma of fresh cotton candy and funnel cake. The cries of seagulls called out over the general murmur and banter from the crowd. During the winter, the pier became a favorite with people of the west side who enjoyed the months when the beaches weren't overrun by tourists. Many parents had come with their children for a late afternoon at the amusement park on the wooden wharf. The Ferris wheel was full of couples for whom the two-seat gondolas provided a great make-out spot at sunset. Tasha's water-bottle truck was parked behind the
Falafel Frigate. The two-story restaurant had become a popular spot for dinner and “happy-hour” for many who still knew it as the Fisherman's Frigate.
Seafood had become the sustenance of the desperate. The oceans where so heavily loaded with toxins that those who ate its fruit even sporadically would face an early and painful end. A spewing oil well a few years earlier had added massive amounts of carcinogens to the seas. Even worse were the high levels of mercury. The toxic heavy metal was continuously leeching out of trillions of empty water bottles that floated in earth’s oceans. This trend had gotten worse since Gene convinced the world with the help of Michael's show that recycled plastic was to blame for a recent wave of birth defects and illness. The truth of it was that Gene had added drops of toxic waste to billions of pallets of Apophis-brand water. This helped him save on disposal cost but brought profits that spread like ripples in a pond. His entire health-care machine was working beyond capacity. Hospitals were adding cots to rooms and tents to parking lots. The massive impact on world health lead to a ban on recycling, a move that kept Gene's raw-material producing industries going strong. Regardless of its menu, the restaurant continued to offer a stunning view of the Pacific Ocean. It was the last establishment before the end of the wooden pier, which extended a respectable length over the water. Several of Tasha's Troopers were trying to blend in as customers and one even as a busboy.
Outside on the end of the pier, people were enjoying the ocean air and watching the sunset. One of Tasha's Troopers disguised as a priest was pointing his hidden-camera Bible at the crowd. Another Trooper dressed in a clown suit was getting rather annoyed with some kids who were buying balloons from him and blocking the view of the spy camera in the sunflower on his lapel.
45 feet below the wooden platform, waves were crashing against the pylons as the rising moon pulled the tide to shore. Amongst the many sea creatures below the surface lurked a somewhat unusual predator. Tasha had had enough of sitting in her control room and put herself where she was happiest: in the middle of the action. Her athletic body was dressed in fins and a purple-trimmed wetsuit. Tasha's locks were waving in the water like the tentacles of an octopus. Underwater weapons and a suspicious-looking package were fastened to her arms and legs with quick-release tape.
Inside the water-bottle truck, Troopers were monitoring images from their spy cams and the pier's surveillance system. On their main viewer, Tasha's goggle-cam showed the keel of an approaching sailboat. Tasha had ordered the drone grounded because of the proximity to the Los Angeles International Soskyh Aeroplex - LAX. She didn't want to get her drone caught in the net of airport radar.
Fuji had arrived on the pier above and was walking to a spot at the end, near the falafel restaurant. This was the bench where he used to sit with Isabelle and watch the whales. Together, they would see the majestic guardians of the sea surface to take their breaths just off the coast. When no boats or tourists were around, the whales would sometimes come close enough to the pier that Isabelle could look them in the eyes. Fuji had taught Isabelle that their song held great benefit and that hearing it would further align oneself with the rhythm of the universe. Many people would wait for hours, sometimes entire days, and not see a whale. When Fuji would go with Isabelle, it seemed these graceful mammals appeared in abundance.
Fuji looked to his left and just as the sun touched the horizon, he spotted Isabelle bringing her sailboat about at the bottom of the pier. He saw his friend motioning with the right arm for him to come down while her left hand was straining to turn the wheel. Fuji climbed down a ladder on one of the wooden pylons. Isabelle's boat was passing underneath the pier next to the pylon where Tasha was waiting. She knew the GPS location of Fuji and Isabelle's cell phones had been fairly constant on the bench above when they had met in their past excursions. This made it easy for Tasha to place herself amidst the action. Like the octopus lurking for a fish, Tasha pushed herself towards the keel of Isabelle's boat. She quickly removed the suspicious-looking package from her upper thigh and fastened it to the lower part of the keel with a power screwdriver. The packet was about the size of a shoe box with mounting tabs on the short sides. Sealed in several layers of plastic inside were two kilos of Columbian cocaine, one of Apophis' less publicized products. "Exhibit J in place," Tasha announced over the talk-back system in her breathing apparatus. "Be ready to notify the coastguard of a drug smuggler if she goes any further than a mile off shore." The underwater warrior dove back behind the pylon.
Above deck, Fuji had just jumped onboard and Isabelle steered her ship into the open water. Fuji ducked as the sail's mast swung to port. He caught a brief glance down the stairs into the main cabin where wires protruded from spaces once occupied by electronics. He walked to the conn where Isabelle was steering the ship towards the setting sun. Fuji gave Isabelle's shoulder a squeeze to greet her. She could feel the "do not worry" that his touch conveyed. Fuji noticed the GPS and sonar missing from the pilot's station.
"I gather you still haven't gotten your privacy back?”
Isabelle replied, "I thought this might give us a chance to speak alone." She turned the ship to starboard and sailed northwest along the coast as it curved towards Malibu. Three dolphins surfaced at the port bow and swam alongside the boat for quite a while. Isabelle continued, "I need to confront these people and ask what it is they want from me."
"I don't think it's going to be that easy. Someone's warning you to step back."
"They want me to kill my story on free energy." Isabelle looked at the sky. Like a luminous orb, the full moon was large so soon after its rise. Nature had put on a magnificent display. The sky was turning bright-orange with the sun touching the horizon. "Imagine, no one would fight over energy anymore. Everyone could have food and heat. It would be the end of inequity."
She looked down and saw Fuji raising the spinnaker sail off the bow. The last rays of the day's sun filled it with their bright orange light as the sail took shape in the wind. The boat picked up a few knots from the added pull. Fuji admired the colorful sail for a moment then he turned to his disciple. "If you ran that story, you could stand to lose everything. What would become of your puma?"
"What will become of Tonati if I allow this to happen? What about the time after that? Look at what happened to my father. He taught me the importance of integrity in journalism. I cannot give in to these people."
Despite the point Fuji was arguing, Isabelle had given him the answer for which he had hoped. "You know, I've done my best thinking in my retreat."
Isabelle looked at Fuji, the orange glow of the sky bathed his face in warm colors. "In the Arctic?"
Fuji smiled "yes." He had rarely spoken about his place in Spitsbergen. Isabelle had spent her young reporting years working for her father's news network in Alaska. These days, she very much appreciated the warmth of Southern California's climate. Going beyond the Arctic circle would take her away from the security cameras and the traffic lights of Los Angeles that her pursuer was employing ever so cunningly.
The technology of the city had paralyzed Isabelle's life.
15 ASSENT FROM THE CITY OF ANGELS
It was a few hours after sunset. Isabelle, Fuji and Tonati where in Fuji's four-wheel drive car. The trio was travelling north towards Palmdale, a small desert community on the high planes outside Los Angeles. The area's seemingly endless, straight desert-roads were famous from countless motion pictures and television commercials. Isabelle was in the driver's seat, Fuji beside her and Tonati in the back.
"Don't you ever let others drive?" Fuji asked.
Isabelle smiled. "Wouldn't it be selfish to put the whole car at risk?"
"Other people are good drivers."
"Not as good as me."
Fuji returned the smile. Isabelle's confidence put him at ease. He could tell she was strong enough to face what laid ahead. The years he spent chanting with her every day had put Isabelle in the rhythm. Fuji felt the promise he made to her mother so many years ago had been a worthy
one. It had been a difficult task to provide guidance to a hard-headed individual like Isabelle, but she had been an excellent student. She knew from early on that she was a part of nature. Without the technology that her adversary was using against her, she needed to rely on her instinct again the way she had learned as a child in the jungle. Isabelle was right. She was an excellent driver. Tasha's platoon traveled surrounding Isabelle in the usual manner. Isabelle had almost gotten used to her entourage. She knew they wouldn't be able to stop her without drawing the attention of the public and eventually the police. After a 45 minute drive, the three friends were nearing their destination. The road sign read:
Palmdale Airport 2 miles
When Isabelle took the exit, she noticed Tasha's Troopers continued on, leaving her on her own. Isabelle and company arrived at Palmdale's small, private airstrip. A chain-link fence enclosed the area. Isabelle drove up to the gate. Fuji opened the padlock with a key he produced from his car's ashtray and let Isabelle drive in.
With These Eyes Page 9