The Eden Project (Peter Zachary Adventure)

by John Bolin

  “It’s worth a try,” Linc said.

  Alex blew air through her lips. “Idiots.”

  “Gator,” Peter said, smiling, “how much oxygen did your tank have left before you ditched it?”

  “Five minutes, tops.”

  “That should be enough,” Peter said. “Gator, I need you to take Tima and Alex to the other Indians and get them away from the compound. I’ll see if I can turn the assembler off at the main command center. If that doesn’t work, I’ll come back and place the charges.”

  “No time,” Linc said. “You delay Khang, and I’ll place the charges.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Peter said.

  “We can’t afford to mess this up,” Linc said. “Look, I know what’s happening to me. The doctor explained it. As long as I’m still lucid, I’ll be fine. Actually, I’ll be more than fine. I’m in the best shape of my life. Check out these guns,” he said, flexing his biceps. His muscles were tight and enlarged.

  Peter hesitated. “Do you even know how to scuba?”

  “Of course I do. I live in Seattle. There’s not much to do except fish and dive, unless you include drinking coffee.”

  “I think he’s right,” Gator said. “It’s our best chance.”

  “Whatever,” Peter said. He turned toward the door, but Alex was in his face again.

  “Peter,” she said, “I know you’ve come this far for Bogart.”

  Bogart’s name sliced him like a knife. “No,” he said, “I’ve come this far for Khang.” And when the blasting starts, he’s going to wish he’d never hurt my friend.

  “Right,” Alex said. “But I don’t think he’s evil. Not like we thought.”

  Everyone looked at Alex.

  “Oh, he’s confused all right, and we need to try and stop him, but . . .”

  “But what?” Peter said.

  “But that doesn’t mean we should kill him. I mean, he’s—”

  “Who said anything about killing him?” Peter said, trying to look innocent.

  She rolled her eyes. “Right. Peter, he’s trying to help people. To heal people. He’s helping the Indians and he—”

  “What about me?” Linc said. The veins in his neck were purple and pulsing. His face looked more muscular than it had even a few minutes ago.

  “I don’t know, Linc,” Alex said. “You know what I think? I think you’re fine—nothing has happened to you except that you’ve grown stronger. I think that doctor you talked to was wrong.”

  “What?” Linc said.

  “Maybe he was just trying to scare you. Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve seen this place. It’s amazing! We can’t just blow it up. I think we’ve misread Khang. Please, Peter, we just need to convince him to bring his science to a broader world. I know you’re more evolved than this, Peter. I know you can use your brains before your guns.”

  Peter pulled away. “You want evolved? I’ll show you evolved.”

  “Please, Peter,” Alex said, “give him a second chance. Let’s stop the machine . . . but let’s not destroy something that could help a lot of people.”

  He stared into her emerald eyes and felt the urge to do whatever she wanted. Surely he wanted such conviction on his side and not against him. But then Bogart’s face flashed into his mind.

  “Sorry, Alex.”

  * * *

  Peter led Linc down the hallway toward the control center. He handed Linc one of the two guns he’d procured from the guards. Not that Linc needed one. He looked like he could take ’em on three at a time with his bare hands. They each had one of Gator’s radio necklaces. Gator had the third one. The two of them had already gone by the unlocked supply closet, thanks to Alex, and picked up a supply of charges. Peter hefted them in a bag over his shoulder.

  They dodged guards and hid in the shadows as the lights flashed and sirens squealed. Finally, they came to a locked door barring their way. Where the hallways had been open before, now metallic doors had been rolled down and locked tight.

  Were the guards onto them?

  In any case, they were stuck in the upper part of the caves, above the dome. “How are we supposed to get down there?” Linc asked.

  Peter moved quickly toward one of the cave openings on the mountainside. They emerged into the sunlight about twenty feet above the dome. Peter looked down and then over to Linc.

  “Are you serious?” Linc said. “You want us to jump down there? It’s too far—we’ll risk leg injury. Besides, if we crack the glass, we’re goners.”

  “I don’t think they’re glass panels,” Peter said, looking down at the roof of the dome. It looked like giant Bubble Wrap. “There’s no way they could get glass back here in sheets that big. I think they’re made of some kind of plastic. I’m sure of it. We’ve got to try this, Linc. It’s the only way we’re going to be able to get there. They’ve got this mountain locked up tight,” he said. “Looks like if I’m going to get my shot at Khang, I’m going to need to go through the front door.”

  Before Linc could respond, Peter leapt.

  It was farther than he’d judged, and he felt his body accelerating as he fell.

  He landed feet-first on one of the panels. The panel bowed inward like a trampoline but held. Peter bounced up and grabbed for some purchase on the roof. He lost his balance and began sliding off the dome. He managed to catch himself on the edge of one of the panels.

  Linc followed, landing on his feet, without rolling, on a panel nearby the one Peter had landed on. Peter crawled along the roof until he was next to Linc.

  “Now what?” Linc said.

  “I haven’t thought that far,” Peter said, sitting down on one of the giant panels. “I didn’t actually think we’d both survive the jump.”

  Linc punched him on the arm—hard. “Now you tell me.”

  Peter glanced down through the plastic. He watched as a group of guards moved under him, looking up. A massive tree grew up from the floor, its branches touching the glass directly under where Peter sat.

  Suddenly, bullets struck the plastic where Peter sat. The guards were firing at him. He jumped up. Bullets shredded the plastic panels in places.

  “We’ve got to put our weight on the structure, not the panels, or we’ll fall through.”

  More bullets chased Peter and Linc as they dodged from one frame and panel to another. Peter stepped on one of the panels at the same moment that a rain of bullets hit it.

  It ripped, disappearing from under him. Peter’s legs were pulled out from under him.

  He desperately reached out for the supporting structure. One hand managed to snatch hold. Bullets pinged all around him.

  “Pete, the tree!” Linc said, pointing. “It’s inside the dome and another ten feet ahead of you. I’ll use my knife to rip the plastic.”

  “Meet me there,” Peter said. “I’ll give you some cover.” He snatched his gun with his free hand and fired a few shots at the guards below. The men scattered, and the bullets eased up enough for Peter to swing hand over hand to the branches of the tree. Linc met him there a moment later.

  “We’ve got to take our chances in this tree. There’s no other way we’re going to get down. Use the leaves as concealment and conserve your bullets. I’ll take lead. Cover me.”

  Peter headed down one of the thick branches of the tree. Birds squawked and monkeys chattered at the commotion. Peter could hear the guards shouting orders below.

  More gunfire shredded leaves. Smoke from the gunpowder mixed with the smell of flowers. Peter tossed one of the grenades. It exploded in a fury of light and heat, taking out two of the guards. He counted four more guards below. More were on the way, he could be sure of that.

  He wrangled from limb to limb, dropping quickly through the dense tree, careful of the charges he was carrying in his pack. The lower he got, the easier a target he was for the guys on the ground. As he climbed, he noticed light seeping through the tree. He stopped and examined the trunk. He was right. The massive tree was hollow. He’d
seen a few like this during the film shoot a week ago. A strangler fig, the guide had called it.

  “Get inside it, Linc,” Peter said. “Follow me.”

  He let go and fell to a branch two feet below him. Inside the trunk, the tree was a shadowy world of crisscrossed branches. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light. Gunfire continued to chip away at the wood of the tree, but at least they couldn’t see him now. Hopefully there would be an exit hole at the bottom. He reached out and grabbed a looping branch in front of him.

  It slithered out of his grasp.

  * * *

  Gator was hungry. He hadn’t eaten in two days, and he could hear his own stomach. He led Alex and Tima up the stone stairs inside the mountain, pistol in hand. It was taking longer than he’d allotted.

  Tima wore a white gown they’d found in the treatment room. Except for the crisscrossing purple veins, her skin was bronze and her form angular and strong. Like a statue, he thought. He couldn’t help but notice how she had changed.

  Where once she had the frame of a twelve-year-old girl, now her shoulders appeared to be broad and strong. Her arms and legs were defined, muscular even, like she had spent hours at the gym doing reps. The girl’s face had narrowed and her cheeks seemed higher. Dark purple veins pulsed on her neck. Gator remembered what Linc had said the doctor told him.

  Perfecting her body but destroying her mind.

  The thought of tiny robots crawling through her veins, reproducing inside her, was unnerving. It all seemed too unnatural, too inhuman.

  Engines of creation.

  Creation? More like damnation. There was something more than mechanical going on here, that much he was sure of. In his mind’s eye he remembered the cave. If that wasn’t demonic power at work, he didn’t know what it was. And if it wasn’t demonic, why had it reacted to the name of Jesus? Somehow, the spiritual and scientific had mingled here to create something terrible.

  He thought of the story of Jesus casting a demon out of a possessed man who lived in a cave. He remembered that the man’s mind was the key to his freedom. Free your mind, and the rest will follow. A sound mind, the Bible called it. He wondered if that could be the case for Tima, if the synthetic and spiritual were somehow more interconnected than any of them realized.

  Gator began to pray under his breath. Nothing rehearsed, more like a conversation.

  “Here,” Tima said, breaking his thought.

  He turned. The girl looked strong, alert, though now the blood was pumping as dark purple streams under her skin. He could actually see her veins bulging as the nanites moved within their host.

  “Here,” she said again, pointing to a cave entrance.

  Gator saw more stairs leading back down toward the dome. He followed the path of the steps mentally along the side of the mountain. It would pass directly behind the dome, behind the lagoon. He looked back at Tima. No telling how long she had left. He had to hurry.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. Alex translated for Tima, who seemed to struggle some before comprehending. She nodded and pointed at the cave.

  Before ducking into the cave, he turned and looked out over Eden. Dusk was beginning to settle over the jungle valley, and Gator watched as gas lamps flickered on, illuminating the trees and pathways and buildings. The dome shone like a haunted bulb nestled below him. The air was cool. He unrolled his shirtsleeves.

  The three of them ducked into the cave and began to descend into the heart of the mountain. The air inside was cool and damp. Fluorescent lights illuminated the passageway, and Gator could hear music being played over the loudspeakers.

  “Bach,” Alex said. “This guy is obsessed with classical music.”

  “Well, then,” Gator said, “there’s another thing he’s got bad taste in. The dress code and the music. How much farther is it?”

  Alex turned to Tima and asked her. The two exchanged words in Quechua. “She said she remembers this way from before,” Alex said. “It was how they brought her here earlier today. It’s just ahead, around the next corner. But she said there were guards near the door.”

  Gator pulled out his gun. “Wait here.”

  He edged to the next corner and looked around it. Two guards stood near a locked entry, casually talking. Two rifles lay against a rock wall behind them.

  He stepped back and turned to Alex. “Ask her how the door is locked.”

  Another short conversation.

  “It’s a keypad.”

  “Then it won’t do much good for me to run and gun. We’d be stuck on this side with no way in. We need to send Tima in as bait. Get them to take her back inside.”

  Tima agreed and disappeared around the corner and down the hall.

  “Hey!” a voice called out. “What are you doing?”

  Tima answered in Quechua. Good girl. Gator tried to imagine the scene.

  “You’re not supposed to be wandering around,” one of the guards said. “Those idiots must have left her out when we switched guard. I guess we need to put her back in with the other animals. Come on!”

  Gator heard someone punching a code into the keypad. A few loud clicks sounded and then the sound of a large door swinging open. Gator peeked around the corner. One of the men snatched a rifle, took Tima by the arm, and walked her past the door.

  Gator raised his weapon and fired.

  The bullet ripped into the other guard’s leg, spinning him to the floor. He grabbed for his rifle, but Gator was already there. He knocked him out cold.

  Bullets pinged against the stone, sparks flying.

  Gator motioned for Alex to stay back behind the corner. He looked down the corridor and saw the guard. He’d let go of Tima and had his weapon raised. He was walking toward the door. Gator didn’t have a clean shot. This was going to be bad.

  Gator grabbed the unconscious guard’s rifle and stepped back from the door, looking for cover. Again he had to urge Alex to stay hidden. He raised his gun toward the door and began to squeeze on the trigger.

  But the guard didn’t come through. Gator heard a yelp and a commotion in the hallway, and the sound of a heavy body hitting the floor.

  A feminine hand waved around the corner. Gator lowered his rifle. Tima peeked out. “Okay. It okay.”

  Gator trotted forward, rifle ready. Alex was at his back. He looked around the corner and saw the guard—slumped on the tile. He turned to Tima with new respect. “Nicely done.”

  “Tima not do,” she said. “Mek do.”

  Gator and Alex looked where she pointed. Five Indians stepped out of the shadows and smiled.

  * * *

  Alex couldn’t believe her eyes. She thought she’d never see these people again.

  “Alex,” Gator said to her, “are these . . . ?”

  She nodded drunkenly. “I think they are.”

  “Well, come on,” Gator said to her. “Get in there and talk to them.”

  Alex moved past the other guard. The lights here were the same dim green fluorescent. The air was stagnant and reeked of human waste. She steadied herself and looked around.

  The room was actually a long, wide hallway. There were little holding rooms on either side—like a prison, except that the rooms themselves were not locked. Was this where the Mek had been all this time?

  Tima stood in front of her, nodding and motioning with her hand. “Come.”

  Alex began to walk slowly down the corridor, holding Tima’s hand. As she walked, tears began rolling down her face. She instantly recognized some of the faces. These really were the Mek. Her Mek. After all that agony, all that searching, she had found them.

  And yet they had changed. Their faces were familiar, but they had all been altered. They looked mature, hardened, and stiff. Some of the faces seemed locked in an expression of pain. Others seemed lost, as if in a dream or trance.

  What happened to them?

  In each stall, there were Mek in various stages of infection. Some of the stalls were filled with technical equipment, complete with illustrati
ons indicating how to hook a person up to them. In other rooms were machines that looked like weightlifting devices. She saw treadmills with EKG wires hanging off the control panels.

  An image of Methuselah, Khang’s white mouse, flashed in her mind, and she suddenly realized what she was looking at. He was using the Mek as his human lab rats.

  Alex fought against what she already knew to be true.

  No. It couldn’t be. He was a good man at his core, a misunderstood genius doing his part to help mankind evolve. Surely this was just part of an inevitable process? Even as she defended him in her mind, she could feel a tornado of rage building in her heart.