by Jack Webber
"Do you have a good restaurant in mind?" asked Miss Caddish, her notebook under one arm.
Jane pointed to the far side of the lobby, to the restaurant that she had patronized the night before. John nodded in agreement. "It's wonderful; you'll love the food."
"Let's go." said Mr. Yarski. "You can really work up an appetite saving the world."
They crossed the lobby, entered the restaurant, and found a table for four. John decided to order off the menu; he had had enough of standing for one day. "I've never had lamb chops before." he mused.
"Oh they're quite good." said Miss Caddish. "We eat them in Scandinavia all the time." The Arctic Ocean moderated the climate, and northern Europe was lush with green pastures, replete with cows, sheep, goats, deer, and even gazelle. "Goat stew is quite nice too, but they don't have that here."
John began to think that Antarctica was about the dullest place on Earth to live. If he didn't have his sights on Mars, he'd apply for an international transfer. Countries weren't fond of immigration, but in his case they might make an exception.
By the time their meals arrived, the conversation had returned to moons, asteroids, and the Jupiter interchange. "You realize," said Mr. Yarski, "that we'll have to use Jupiter itself to fling Earth past the orbit of Jupiter. That's the key. The moons can get Earth in position for a rendezvous, but Jupiter has to do most of the work."
"Again," said Jane, "we have to worry about the tides. We can't get too close. Fortunately Jupiter is big, so we can get a pretty good sling, even from a distance."
Miss Caddish took a long drink from her ice tea, then chimed in. "You realize that the last push is the tricky part. We can use Jupiter to raise the top of Earth's orbit, like a long ellipse, but the lowest point of the orbit will always be below Jupiter, and that means the two planets will always cross paths, until something from above pulls the bottom of Earth's orbit up. Jupiter can't do that; it has to come from above, and Saturn's still too far away."
"I guess we never thought of that," said John, "but I'm sure Paul is aware of that problem."
"I think we'll have to move the moon past Jupiter first," suggested Jane, "where it can be used to circularize Earth's orbit." She picked up another butterfly shrimp and dipped it in cocktail sauce. "And yes, I'm sure Paul has thought this through. That's why he is anxious to use the moon. There really isn't any other way to raise perihelion past Jupiter, quickly, before the two planets have a chance to collide."
"And we'll carry the moon along to pull us passed Saturn and Uranus in the same fashion." concluded Mr. Yarski.
They talked for over an hour, until the waitress started looking askance at their unproductive table. Jane took the bill and pulled out her corporate card, but John put his hand on hers. "If you try to expense this entire meal the micromanagers in accounting, with half your IQ, will have your head. They'll make you pay at least half, so don't treat these people unless you really want to treat these people, personally."
"Thank you Jane," said Mr. Yarski, "but we're all here on business, and I think we have enough math skills between us to split the bill. I'll give the waitress a big tip for her inconvenience."
John and Jane said goodbye to their two colleagues, then went back up to the embassy suite. "I don't have enough energy for chess or Go." declared John. "I vote for a movie, and then bed. We've got an early flight tomorrow."
"Sounds good to me" Jane activated the big screen TV and touched the movie icon.
There were literally millions of movies to choose from, and at any given time, the public only new a few hundred, the ones released in the past century, and a few of the classics. The computer presented the recent movies first, assuming you weren't interested in, or didn't know about, an academy award winner thousand years in the past. But Jane asked for a reverse sort, starting at the beginning.
"I'd like to see something with snow in it." she said. "Long ago when the sky was bright blue, and it was so cold in the winter that ice crystals fell from the sky. Have you ever seen that?" she asked, turning to John.
"Sure," said John, "in a documentary on the history channel."
"I think it would be more interesting, and more real, if it were woven into a story." She skipped past the silent movies and looked through some of the early talkies. "I think I've actually heard of this one." she announced. "White Christmas, with Bing Crosby. I don't know anything about it, but I think the white refers to snow. Of course the movie was made in the northern hemisphere, so Christmas marked the winter solstice. I think they really wanted snow on that day. Shall we give it a go?"
"Sure." said John, stretching out on his bed.
Jane started the movie and arranged the pillows on her bed. "Have you ever been cold?" she asked.
"No, I don't think so."
"I was cold once. My uncle runs a food distribution center, and one day we were visiting his warehouse. I got locked in the freezer by accident for over an hour." She paused to look up at the movie, and then turned back to John. "We're hot most of the time, so you'd think cold would be a good feeling, but you know, it was horrible. We humans have to be just the right temperature, or we're miserable."
John merely nodded as he watched the movie.
"I've had dreams about that freezer several times, but I never really felt cold in the dream. I was afraid, and I saw the ice on the walls, and I knew it was cold at an intellectual level, but I didn't feel the cold. Never felt hot in a dream either, unless it was actually hot in my bedroom. I don't think we can imagine temperature, so it isn't part of our dreams, not the feeling of it anyways."
"This was a big song in its day, wasn't it?" John didn't mean to change the subject, but Bing was singing the title track.
"Yes I think it was." said Jane. They stopped to listen, and Irving Berlin's simple melody was permanently etched into two more brains.
"I didn't see much snow." said John when the movie was over. "A couple of scenes, and that was it."
"Yeah, it was almost all studio shots. Singing and dancing and the like. Well, if I ever find a movie about life in a snowy world, I'll let you know."
"Why don't you put on something else, and I'll do my best to fall asleep." suggested John, as he climbed under the covers.
Jane called up recent movies, and selected It Came from Alpha Centauri, a low budget sci-fi movie that was sure to lose their interest. She turned down the volume, got undressed, and started to untie her hair.
"I'm going to take a shower and wash my hair. That can be a project in itself, so you may as well watch the movie or go to sleep."
John really wanted to join her in the shower and help her with this "project". He would scrub her head, and then work the lather through her hair, all the way down her back. After the shower they would lie together in bed, and he would steal a kiss. Just one kiss. But John knew better. Once that freight train got started there would be no stopping it, and his marriage would be crushed under its wheels. He took a bottle of wine from the fridge, drank two glasses, and fell asleep.
When Jane came out of the shower, John was snoring, and blue monsters with many tentacles were ravaging Moscow. She turned off the movie and went to bed. Morning would come soon enough.
NINETEEN
The conference, the Siberian lights, the taste of fresh fish, even the sight of Jane going in for a shower with her red hair pouring over her back, it all seemed a distant memory. Six days had become six years. It was December the thirteenth, Thursday the thirteenth, and if he was at all superstitious he would postpone his plans. After all, he had one more payment to make in January. Why not wait another month? But Squanto might be expecting something on the last day. She wouldn't be as careful during the penultimate meeting. He was counting on that, so it had to be today.
"What's the matter John?" asked Melissa, sensing his fear.
He decided to tell her the truth, but not the whole truth. "I'm going to try to get the kids' tickets to Mars today, and, well, I hope it goes all right."
"Tho
se companies scare me." She looked into his eyes, then gave him a long kiss.
"Me to." he admitted. "But we do want our kids to go to Mars, don't we? We've talked about this, right?"
"Yes, but I'll be glad when it's a done deal."
Her affirmation gave him new resolve. This is what she wants, and it's worth taking a few risks. He gave each of his kids a hug, then ran through the summer heat to his waiting car.
When John arrived at work he went out to the trailer to make sure everything was ready. He had added insulation in the walls to deaden the sound, in case Squanto screamed or cried for help. You never knew when a maintenance worker was going to walk by. The coffee, the cups, the drugs, the handcuffs, everything seemed in order, so he went back to his office and pretended to work, his lunch bag sitting conspicuously on his desk.
He called up LookBusy.c, a program that he wrote long ago. It put pictures of magnetic fields up on the screen, with various equations down below. He could type just about anything in, or move the mouse, or turn the thumbwheel, and the display would change at random. Yes indeed, he looked busy. Of course Jane figured it out long ago. "That has nothing to do with what you just typed in. What does this program do anyways?" John showed her the name of the program and she smiled. "Very good." she laughed, "I'll have to write one of those myself."
At 9:14 one of John's co-worker strolled in to ask a question and make small talk, but he could see that John was busy, so he left in short order. This happened again at 10:27, and again at 11:31. "Get out of here," John thought to himself, "I have more important things to worry about than you." He was glad Hank was away on business. He didn't want to deceive his boss, no easy task, and he didn't want to confide in him either.
It was a quarter to twelve and John was lost in thought, going over every detail of his plan, every contingency, when Lily slipped into his office unnoticed. Fortunately his hand was on autopilot, taking the LookBusy program through its paces.
"John." she said in a quiet voice.
He jumped up in surprise.
"I didn't mean to startle you." Lily stared at the screen for a minute. "You look like you're trying to solve the grand unified field theory."
"Oh," chuckled John, "just lost in thought. I'm ok." He tried to sound calm and relaxed. "What's up?"
"Just wanted to see if you were coming to lunch with us today, but it looks like you brought a lunch." She pointed towards the sack on the desk.
"Goodness, it's almost noon." He tried to sound non-chalant, but everything that came out of his mouth sounded scripted. Did Lily know he was up to something? Of course not - how could she? "Yeah, thought I'd eat at my desk today. Count me in for tomorrow, ok?"
"Sure." said Lily as she went back out into the hall. In her mind, John was a bit eccentric, and sometimes he became absorbed in his work, but geniuses were like that. She had no idea that he was planning a murder.
TWENTY
John met Squanto at the back door, just as he had done for the past year. "She looks different." he thought to himself. "No, she's looking at me differently. She knows. She can see it in my face! ... Come on, get a grip! Your paranoia is seeping through the cracks. Greet her the same way you always do."
He opened the outer door for her and said, "Come in." He placed the visitor’s badge around her neck and took her into the building. They walked silently through the corridors, past checkpoints, and out to the waiting trailer.
The bright yellow room looked sunny and cheerful, as it always had. John closed and locked the door behind them. Squanto sat down at the long white table and opened up her notebook.
"You're almost paid up - just two more payments after today."
John froze, his heart racing. He knew there was only one more payment to go, and now she was adding another to the schedule. And it wouldn't end there. She would take and take and take, and he might never get his kids to Mars. All his suspicions were correct.
He put his fear and anger back in the box, because none of that mattered. He never intended to purchase tickets from her, so this new development mattered not at all. Still, he had to say something. He had to play along. He pasted a look of surprise on his face. "Two more payments? After today? I thought there was just one." He peered at the ledger and sure enough there were two more payments in January and February. The transport left in April; he wondered how long she was planning to play this game, and how she expected it to end. Well it was going to end much sooner than she expected, and with a very different outcome.
"Well," he acquiesced, "I'm sure your records are accurate. I'll go get the coffee."
John went into the kitchen and took two cups off the shelf. He had checked them earlier that morning. Each had its nick in the bottom, one ahead of the handle and one behind. He filled both with coffee and added baromethyzol to his cup, the cup with the nick behind. This was the latest drug, and he had to buy it on the black market. Baromethyzol had no taste and no smell, and no effect either, until it reached a certain concentration in the blood, and then it shut down the higher functions of the brain. There was no warning, no feeling of drowsiness, no time to react.
He carried the cups to the table and placed them in position. Before setting his own cup down he ran his finger lightly across the nick. Yes, this was his cup, containing the drug.
John was about to ask if Squanto wanted cream and sugar, but then a thought crossed his mind. What if she said no? Then he would not leave the room, and there would be no opportunity for her to switch the cups. If she didn't switch the cups, as she had done every month for the past year, he had no backup plan. He would have to pay her and send her on her way, and try to think of something else in January. He would also have to come up with a reason for not drinking his coffee, and he didn't want to go down that road at all! No, better to go and get the cream and sugar without asking.
Then again, he didn't want to do anything that he hadn't done before. If she starts to suspect, the game is over, and she wins!
Finally he decided to ask the question he had always asked in the past. "Cream and sugar?"
She nodded, and his relief was almost palpable. He went into the kitchen and took his time finding the cream and sugar. Not too much time though; everything needs to be the same, right down to the smallest detail. He came back with the cream and sugar and she added a little of each to her cup. He did the same, then picked his cup to take a drink. Everything was going according to plan.
Suddenly his had froze in mid air. The nick was still behind the handle. She hadn't switched the cups. He set the cup back down as gently as he could while his stomach twisted into a sailor's knot. Fortunately she was looking away, but he didn't know what to do.
She turned back towards him as if to say, "The ball's in your court. Drink your coffee, or make your payment, or do something." John just sat there, his heart pounding in his chest. He needed time to think.
Suddenly the phone rang, startling John and Squanto alike. "Excuse me." mumbled John as he stood up from his chair. He crossed the room and picked up the receiver. "Hello."
"I was trying to reach Beth in personnel."
"No I don't think so."
"I must have the wrong number."
"Yes, I'm afraid so."
"Goodbye."
"Right"
The party on the other end hung up.
"I know, reactor 4 has been acting up all month." He looked straight into the wall, and he also kept an eye on Squanto, thanks to the small mirror he had installed at the outer edge of the right lens in his glasses. She was just sitting there, watching him.
"Well I can't come right now, I'm in a meeting." If he was engaged for 30 seconds, she might switch the cups.
"Ok, give me the figures." He picked up the pen that was lying next to the phone and tore a sheet of paper from the notepad. With the phone in one hand and the pen in the other, he started writing numbers on the page, and then, it happened so quickly he almost missed it. Like a magician she switched the two cups without spill
ing a drop or making a sound. Each sat exactly where the other was. He wasn't even sure he saw it, since his eyes were focused on his scribbling, and not on the mirror. He thought he saw something, but he wasn't sure.
"No, no that's not normal at all. I'll tell you what; I'll get back to you in about an hour."
"Goodbye." John disconnected the receiver, folded his paper in half, and walked back to the table.
"How did they know you were here?" asked Squanto through narrowed eyes.
John screamed inside his head. "Sh*t! I hadn't thought of that. Think fast. Ok, this will have to do." He tucked the folded piece of paper inside his notebook. "Sorry, but reactor 4 almost went critical yesterday, and Hank, my boss, said he wanted to know where I was at all times today. He doesn't know what we're doing, and quite frankly, he doesn't care. I wouldn't worry about it."
She seemed to accept his explanation. She raised the cup to her lips, and John did the same. Carefully, slowly, he slipped one finger underneath, and found the nick just ahead of the handle. He took a long drink, then leaned back in his seat, heaving a sigh of relief. Neither of them spoke for several minutes.
John drank most of his coffee, almost too quickly, but he wanted Squanto to do the same. Her cup was half empty, and he didn't know if that was enough.
"Well I've got appointments this afternoon, so let's take care of business." She stared at him through dark eyes, her black hair combed neatly back.
John fumbled for his money card as he stalled for time. He could pay her, he had the money, but he wanted her to drink more coffee.
Finally he could stall no longer, and he pulled out his card.
"Here it is." he announced. He typed in the amount, and his security code, and laid his finger along the scan strip. The display showed 5,200 leppas in blue. He passed the card over to Squanto. "Here you are."
She looked at the display and nodded her approval, then she fainted dead away.