Abduction

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Donald treated the operation like a military exercise, as did Richard and Michael, who’d had even more covert operational experience than he. Getting into the spirit of the affair, the two divers blackened their faces and garments with soil. Perry wasn’t as gung ho, but he was relieved to be taking his fate in his own hands.

“Is that necessary?” Perry asked when he saw what Richard and Michael had done with the mud.

“It’s what we did for any night operation in the Navy,” Richard replied.

The ride in the air taxi was in some respects even more exhilarating at night than it had been during the day. There was significantly less traffic but what traffic there was lurched unexpectedly out of the shadows.

“This is like a goddamned amusement park ride,” Richard said after a particularly close pass.

“I wish I could find out how these things work,” Perry commented. “There were only worker clones at the factory Richard and I visited this morning.”

“That was one colossal waste of time,” Richard said.

“What do you think about Suzanne?” Donald asked Perry.

“What do you mean?” Perry responded.

“Do you think we have to worry about her?” Donald asked. “She could mess up this whole operation.”

“You mean alert the Interterrans?” Perry asked.

“Something like that,” Donald said. “She seemed pretty upset back there about the two casualties.”

“She was upset, but it wasn’t just about the deaths,” Perry said. “She confided to me that Garona disappointed her somehow. And she feels responsible about us being here, as she said. Anyway, I don’t think we have to worry about her. She’ll be okay.”

“I hope so,” Donald said.

The craft decelerated, hovered for a moment, then rapidly descended.

“Stand by, troops,” Donald said.

As Donald had directed, the air taxi was settling down in the museum’s courtyard. Over the edge of the craft the dim outline of the Oceanus could be seen, silhouetted against the black basalt of the museum.

“There’s the target,” Donald said. “Once the side of the taxi opens I want everyone flat against the museum wall. Understood?”

“That’s affirmative,” Richard said.

The moment the exit appeared the group piled out, ran to the wall, and flattened themselves against it. All eyes swept the immediate area. It was dark, particularly in the shadows, and perfectly still without any signs of life. Behind them the sharply geometric form of the museum soared up into the blackness. The only light on the scene came from the thousands of faux, bioluminescent stars above and a low-level, glow emanating from the museum’s windows. The dark hulk of the submersible was about fifty feet away, sitting on chocks on the flatbed of an antigravity freighter.

The air taxi’s side seamlessly sealed over and the craft silently rose before disappearing in the darkness.

“I don’t see a soul,” Richard whispered.

“I guess the museum’s not much of a night spot,” Michael whispered back.

“Keep the conversation to a minimum,” Donald ordered.

“The place is deserted,” Perry said. He let himself relax. “That’s going to make this a whole lot easier.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Donald said. He pointed to a window to their left. “Perry, you and Michael climb through and come back out through the same one. We’ll either be working on the Oceanus or we’ll be waiting here in the shadows.”

“Do you think there’s an alarm system in the museum?” Perry questioned.

“Nah!” Richard said. “There’s no locks or alarms or any of that kind of stuff. Apparently nobody ever steals anything down here.”

“All right,” Perry said. “We’re off.”

“Good hunting,” Donald said. He waved as Perry and Michael ran hunched over to just below the window. Grunting and groaning, Perry boosted Michael up so he could get a grip on the sill. Once he was inside, he leaned back out and pulled Perry up. A moment later the two disappeared inside the building.

Donald redirected his attention to the submersible.

“Well, are we going over there or not?” Richard questioned.

“Let’s do it!” Donald said.

They kept low to the ground as they sprinted over to the minisubmarine. Donald lovingly patted its HY-140 steel hull. In the darkness its scarlet color was a dull gray although the white lettering on the sail stood out sharply. Donald made a slow inspection of the craft with Richard close on his heels. He was impressed with the Interterran repairs; the outside lights and the manipulator arm that had been destroyed in the plunge down the vent shaft looked completely normal.

“It looks perfect,” Donald said. “All we have to do is get it into the ocean and we’re home free.”

“None too soon for me,” Richard said.

Donald went to an outside toolbox, opened it, and took out several wrenches. He handed them to Richard.

“Start with the starboard side camcorder,” he said. “Just detach it from its housing. I’m going below to check out the battery level. If we don’t have power, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Roger,” Richard said.

Donald climbed the familiar rungs, rapidly ascending to the ship’s hatch. He was mildly surprised to find it undogged and slightly ajar. Grabbing it with two hands he raised it all the way. After one last visual sweep around the area, he lowered himself into the opening and clambered down into absolute darkness.

Once Donald had reached the deck, he moved forward by feel. He was so familiar with the craft, he could literally move around inside with his eyes closed, or so he thought until he tripped over the two books Suzanne had brought along to impress Perry. Donald cursed less for the tripping than for striking his hand against the back of one of the passenger seats while trying to maintain his balance. At least he didn’t fall which could have been lethal in the tight quarters.

After rubbing his hand to dispel the pain, he inched forward. As he neared the dive station a bit of light filtered in through the four view ports, making his progress easier. Careful not to hit his head on any of the protruding instrumentation, Donald lowered himself into the pilot seat. Outside he could hear Richard clanking against the hull with the wrench.

The first thing Donald did was switch on the instrument lights. Then, with trepidation, he allowed his eyes to move over to the battery level indicator. He sighed with relief. There was plenty of power. Then, as he was about to check gas pressures, he froze. A noise coming from behind him told him that he was not alone. Someone besides himself was inside the submersible.

At first Donald held his breath, straining to listen. Cold sweat appeared along his hairline. Seconds passed, though it seemed like hours, but the noise did not repeat itself. Just when Donald began to wonder if his imagination had misinterpreted the sounds of Richard removing the camcorder, a voice came out of the darkness. “Is that you, Mr. Fuller?”

Donald swung around. His eyes vainly tried to penetrate the darkness. “Yes,” he said with a voice that cracked. “Who’s here?”

“Harv Goldfarb. Remember me from Central Information?”

Donald relaxed and took a breath. “Of course,” he said irritably. “What the devil are you doing in here?”

Harvey inched forward. The lights from the instruments illuminated his deeply creased face. “You got me thinking today,” Harvey said. “You’re the first hope I’ve ever had for getting back. I was afraid you might forget me, so I thought I’d sleep in here.”

“Mr. Goldfarb, we can’t forget you,” Donald said. “We need you. Did you check out the TV cameras on the outside?”

“I did,” Harvey said. “I don’t think they’ll be a problem. What is it you are planning on transmitting?”

“We’re not sure at this stage,” Donald said. “Maybe you or us or even all of us.”

“Me?” Harvey questioned.

“Actually we only want the capability to transmit,” Donald said. “It’s the threat that’s important.”

“I’m getting the picture,” Harvey said. “They let you out because they’re afraid that I’ll expose Interterra over the airwaves.”

“Something like that,” Donald said.

“It won’t work,” Harvey said flatly.

“Why not?”

“Two reasons,” Harvey said. “First, they’d cut my power before they’d let you out. And second, I won’t do it.”

“But you said you’d help.”

“Yeah, and you said you’d take me to New York.”

“That’s true,” Donald admitted. “Actually we haven’t worked out any of the details.”

“Details, ha!” Harvey scoffed. “But listen. I live here. I can tell you how to get out. Many a night I’ve dreamed about escaping the monotony of all these interminably pleasant days.”

“We’re open to suggestions,” Donald said.

“I gotta be sure you’ll take me along,” Harvey said.

“We’ll be happy to include you,” Donald said. “What’s your idea?”

“Will this submarine work?” Harvey asked.

“That’s what I’m checking,” Donald said. “We’ve got plenty of power, so if we can get it out into the water, it will work.”

“Okay, now listen,” Harvey said. “Has your orientation gotten around to telling you that the Interterrans live forever? Not in the same body but in multiple bodies?”

“Yes,” Donald said. “We’ve already visited the death center and witnessed an extraction.”

“I’m impressed,” Harvey said. “They are moving you right along. So you understand that the process works only if they are extracted before death. In other words, it all has to be planned. You get what I’m saying?”

“I’m not sure,” Donald admitted.

“They have to be alive when the memory is extracted,” Harvey said. “Or more properly, their brains have to be functioning normally. If they die by violent means, the story’s over. That’s why they are so terrified of violence, and that’s why there hasn’t been any violence in Interterra for millions upon millions of years. They are incapable of it except by proxy.”

“So we threaten violence,” Donald said. “We already thought of that.”

“I’m talking about something more specific than just violence,” Harvey said. “You threaten death specifically. Death without any of their extraction nonsense unless they do what you want.”

“Aha!” Donald exclaimed. “Now I get you. You’re talking about taking hostages.”

“Correct!” Harvey said. “Two, four, as many as you can get, and not clones, because they don’t count. And a word of caution: the clones don’t mind violence. They do whatever they are told.”

“Slick!” Donald commented. “It’s a multiple threat built into one.”

“Correct,” Harvey said proudly. “And you don’t have to monkey around with this TV camera nonsense.”

“I like it,” Donald said. “How about you going out and telling Richard to hold up on removing the camcorder. I just want to check the gas pressures, and I’ll be right out.”

“You promise you’ll be taking me,” Harvey said.

“You’re going,” Donald said. “Stop worrying.”

“All right, hold up!” Perry ordered. “Either you know where you are going or you don’t. We’ve been wandering around in here like a couple of dopes for twenty minutes. Where are the goddamn weapons?”

Michael shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I get lost in museums even in the daytime.”

“Try to remember something about the gallery,” Perry said.

“I remember it was long and narrow,” Michael said.

“What was it near? Can you remember anything like that?”

“Wait a second,” Michael said. “Now I remember. It was behind a door that said we were supposed to get permission from the Council of Elders to enter.”

“I haven’t seen many doors,” Perry said as his eyes scanned the immediate area. “And there are none here so obviously we’re not in the right place.”

“I also remember we’d stopped in a gallery filled with Persian carpets,” Michael said. “It’s coming back to me now. The carpets were beyond the room with all the Renaissance stuff.”

“That’s a start,” Perry said. “I know where that gallery is. Come on! Follow me for a change!”

A few minutes later the two men were standing outside the door with the restricted entry admonition. It was located near the window they’d climbed in.

“Is this it?” Perry asked. “If it is, we’ve come full circle.”

“I think so.” He reached around Perry, pushed the door open, and glanced inside. “Pay dirt!” he exclaimed.

“It’s about time,” Perry grumbled as he entered. “The others are going to start thinking we got lost, so we’d better make this snappy.”

“What should we take?” Michael asked.

The two men stopped just inside the door while Perry looked up and down the dimly lit room. He was impressed with the room’s length and the subsequent square footage the shelving afforded. “This is more than I expected!” he commented. “We’ve got quite a selection in here.”

“The older stuff is to the right, newer to the left,” Michael said.

“I guess it doesn’t matter what we take as long as it functions,” Perry said, “and as long as I find the Luger.”

“I know one thing I want,” Michael said. He reached over and picked up the crossbow and its quiver. As he did so he nicked his finger. “Jeez, these arrow points are razor sharp.”

“Those are quarrels, or bolts, not arrows,” Perry said.

“Whatever,” Michael said. “They’re damn sharp.”

“Do you remember which way the Luger was?”

“To the left, Bozo,” Michael said.

“Don’t call me Bozo,” Perry warned.

“Well, I just got finished telling you the modern stuff was to the left.”

Perry set out without responding to Michael’s last comment. It irritated him that he had to put up with the divers. He had never been forced to spend time with two more juvenile idiots in his life.

Michael turned and went the other way. As long as everything was water-damaged and barnacle-encrusted, he thought the ancient armaments would be better since, in their simplicity, there were fewer working parts for the salt water to foul up. Soon he was in an area with a superb collection of ancient Greek weapons. He gathered an armful of short swords, daggers, and shields along with several helmets, greaves, and a brace of breastplates. What impressed him was the worked gold and the encrusted jewels he could see despite the darkness. Thus encumbered he clanked his way back to the door they’d entered.

“Any luck yet?” Michael called out to Perry.

“Not yet,” Perry called back. “Just a bunch of rusted rifles.”

“I’m going to take this stuff I got back to the window.”

“All right, I’ll be there as soon as I find the pistol.”

Michael added the crossbow to his burden and then struggled with the door. No sooner had he taken a step into the hall than he collided with Richard.

Michael whimpered and dropped everything he was carrying. The heavy gold and bronze implements made a tremendous clatter against the marble floor.

“Shut up, you ass!” Richard hissed. The racket exploding in the silence of the dark, deserted museum had scared him as much as the unexpected encounter had scared Michael.

“What do you mean sneaking in here and scaring me shitless?” Michael spat.

“What the hell’s been taking you so long?” Richard demanded.

“We couldn’t find the room, okay?”

Perry appeared in the doorway. “Good God, what on earth are you guys doing? Trying to wake up the entire city?”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Michael said as he bent down to retrieve his booty.

“Did you guys find the Luger?” Richard asked.

“Not yet,” Perry said. “Where’s Donald?”

“He’s already on his way back to the visitors’ palace,” Richard said. “There’s been a change in plans. The old fart Harvey Goldfarb was hiding in the submersible, and he’s come up with a new and better escape plan for us.”

“Really?” Perry questioned. “What is it?”

“We’re going to take hostages,” Richard said. “He says the Interterrans are so afraid of violent death that they’d do anything, including letting us out into the ocean with the submersible, if we got a couple of their people and threaten to do them in.”

“I like it,” Perry said. “But why did Donald go back before us?”

“He’s worried about Suzanne, especially now that things look so promising. But he told me to tell you to get a move on it; as soon as you’re ready I’ll call an air taxi to get us back.”

“All right,” Perry said. “Both of you come on in here. With all of us looking for the damn pistol we should be able to find it a lot faster.”

The air taxi came to a halt and opened. It was hovering directly in front of the visitors’ palace dining room. Richard and Michael disembarked with some difficulty, both weighed down with an array of ancient armament. All Perry was carrying was the Luger, which he’d finally found.

The three made their way up the ramp to the door. Both divers had donned the breastplates, helmets, and greaves rather than carry them in their arms. It was enough to be holding the shields, swords, daggers, and crossbow. Perry had tried to talk them out of taking the armor, but they were determined, and he gave up trying to reason with them. Michael and Richard were convinced in their words that the stuff was going to be worth a fortune topside.

To their surprise the dining room was empty.

“That’s odd,” Richard said. “He told me to meet him here.”

“You don’t suppose he’s planning on bugging out of here without us, do you?” Michael questioned.

“I don’t know,” Richard responded. “The idea never occurred to me.”

“He’s not going without us,” Perry assured the two divers. “We just saw the Oceanus still parked where it’s always been, and he’s not going anyplace without that.”

“How about Suzanne’s room?” Michael suggested.

“I’d say that’s a good possibility,” Perry said.

The long walk across the lawn was significantly noisy thanks to the continual clatter of the ancient armor.

“You guys sound ridiculous,” Perry commented.

“We didn’t ask for your opinion,” Richard said.

As they rounded the open end of Suzanne’s cottage they saw Donald, Suzanne, and Harvey sitting in contour chairs near the pool’s edge. It was obvious the atmosphere was tense.

“What’s wrong?” Perry questioned.

“We’ve got a problem,” Donald said. “Suzanne’s not sure we’re doing the right thing.”

“Why not, Suzanne?” Perry asked.

“Because murder is wrong,” Suzanne said. “If we take hostages to the surface world without adaptation, they will die, plain and simple. We brought violence and death here and now we want to escape by it. I say it’s ethically despicable.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t ask to come here,” Perry said hotly. “I don’t like to sound like a broken record, but we’re being held against our will. I think that justifies violence.”

“But that’s confusing ends with means,” Suzanne said. “That’s exactly what we’re supposed to be against.”

“All I know is that I have a family that I miss,” Perry said. “I’m going to see them again come hell or high water!”

“I empathize with you,” Suzanne said. “Truly! And I feel responsible about the whole situation. And it is true we were abducted. But I don’t want to see any more deaths, nor do I want to see Interterra unwittingly destroyed. We’re ethically obligated to negotiate. These people are so peaceful.”

“Peaceful?” Richard questioned. “I’d say boring!”

“I can vouch for that,” Harvey said.

“Perry, this is Harvey Goldfarb,” Donald said.

Perry and Harvey shook hands.

“I don’t know what we’re supposed to negotiate,” Donald said. “Arak made it clear we’re here for good, no buts, ifs, or maybes. A statement like that precludes negotiation.”

“I think we should let a little more time pass,” Suzanne said. “What’s wrong with that? Maybe we will change our minds, or maybe we’ll be able to convince them to alter theirs. We’ve got to remember that we’ve all brought down here our personalities and psychological baggage geared to the world above, plus we’re so accustomed to seeing ourselves as the ‘good guys’ that it’s difficult to realize when we are the monsters.”

“I don’t feel like a monster,” Perry said. “I don’t belong here.”

“Me neither,” Michael said.

“Let me make another point,” Suzanne said. “For the sake of argument, let’s say we manage to get out of here. What happens then? Do we reveal Interterra’s existence?”

“It will be hard not to,” Donald said. “Where would we say we’ve been for the last month or however long it’s been?”

“And what about me?” Harvey said. “I’ve been here for almost ninety years.”

“That’s even harder to explain,” Donald agreed.

“We’d also have to have some explanation where we got all the gold and armor,” Richard said. “ ’Cause this stuff’s going with me.”

“And what about the economic possibilities of our serving as intermediaries?” Perry said. “We could help both sides and end up millionaires many times over. Just the wrist communicators alone will cause a technological sensation.”

“I rest my case,” Suzanne said. “One way or the other we’d be exposing Interterra. Stop and think about our civilization and its exploitive greed. We don’t like to think of ourselves in that light, but it’s true. We are selfish, both as individuals and as nations. There’d be a confrontation without doubt, and as advanced as the Interterran civilization is, with power and weapons we cannot even imagine, it will be a disaster, maybe even the end of the world as far as secondary humans are concerned.”

For several minutes no one spoke.

“I don’t care about all that crap,” Richard said suddenly, breaking the silence. “I want out of here.”

“No question,” Michael chimed in.

“Me, too,” Perry said.

“Ditto,” Donald said. “Once we’re out, we can negotiate with these Interterrans. At least at that point it will be a real negotiation without them dictating to us.”

“What about you, Harvey?” Perry asked.

“I’ve been dreaming about getting out for years,” Harvey said.

“It’s decided, then,” Donald said. “We’re going!”

“Not me,” Suzanne said. “I don’t want any more deaths on my conscience. Maybe it’s because I don’t have any immediate family, but I’m willing to give Interterra a chance. I know I’ve got a lot of adjusting to do, but I like paradise. It’s worth a bit of self-examination.”

“I’m sorry, Suzanne,” Donald said, staring her in the eye. “If we go, you go. Your high moral standards are not going to screw up our plan.”

“What are you going to do, force me to go?” Suzanne demanded irritably.

“Absolutely,” Donald said. “Let me remind you, field commanders have been known to shoot their own men if the men’s behavior threatens to compromise an operation.”

Suzanne didn’t respond. Instead she slowly looked around at the others in the room. Her expression was blank. No one made a motion in her defense.

“Let’s get back to business,” Donald said finally. “Did you get the Luger?”

“We did,” Perry reported. “It was hard to find, but we managed.”

“Let me see it,” Donald said.

As Perry took the pistol out of his tunic pocket, Suzanne bolted from the room. Richard was the first to respond. Dropping what he had in his hands, and disregarding the armor he was wearing, he raced out into the night after her. Thanks to his superb physical shape he was able to close the gap quickly and managed to get hold of Suzanne’s wrist. He pulled her to a stop. Both were panting.

“You’re playing into Donald’s hands,” Richard managed to say between breaths.

“As if I care,” Suzanne replied. “Let me go!”

“He’ll shoot you,” Richard said. “He loves playing this military crap. I’m warning you.”

Suzanne struggled for a moment in an attempt to free herself, but it was soon clear that Richard was not about to let her go. The others arrived and gathered round. Donald was holding the Luger.

“You’re forcing me to act,” Donald said menacingly.

“I hope you realize that.”

“Who is forcing whom?” Suzanne asked scornfully.

“Bring her back inside!” Donald said. “We have to resolve this once and for all.” He started back toward the cottage. The others followed with Richard maintaining an iron grip on Suzanne’s wrist. She tried briefly to struggle but quickly became resigned to be dragged back toward her room.

“Bring her in and sit her down,” Donald called over his shoulder as the group rounded the pool.

Coming into the light Richard noticed how blue Suzanne’s hand had become. Concerned about her circulation, he loosened his hold. The instant he did, she yanked herself free and straight-armed him with a resounding thump in the center of his chest. Caught off guard, Richard toppled into the deep end of the pool. Suzanne bolted back out into the night.

With the heavy armor dragging him under the surface, Richard floundered despite his being a powerful and accomplished swimmer. Donald tossed the pistol onto one of the contour chairs and dove into the water. Perry and Michael did what they could from the pool’s edge until they realized that Suzanne had escaped yet again.

“Get her!” Perry cried. “I’ll help here.”

Michael took off and the effort expended gave him unqualified respect for the famed hoplites of old, and he wondered how those ancient warriors had managed considering the weight of their armor. He found the breastplate particularly difficult to run in although the heavy helmet and greaves did not help either. Once clear of the cone of light emanating from the interior, he clanked to a halt. Without being dark adapted he was blinded by the darkness. Suzanne was nowhere to be seen although she’d had only a minute or so head start.

As the minutes ticked by and his eyes adjusted, details of the scene emerged from the gloom but still no Suzanne. Then, sudden movement and a startling patch of bright light off to his right got his attention. When he looked his heart leaped. It was an air taxi that had arrived and opened some fifty yards away in the vicinity of the dining hall.

Michael took off running again with his strong legs pumping. As he rapidly closed on the craft, he knew it was going to be close. Ahead he could see Suzanne clamber aboard and throw herself onto the banquette with her right hand palm down on the central table.

“No!” Michael yelled as he launched himself at the taxi’s port. But he was too late. What had been an opening only moments earlier was now the seamless cowling of the air taxi. Michael collided against it and ricocheted off with the clang of metal against metal. The collision knocked him to the ground and the helmet from his head. In the next instant the air taxi ascended with a whoosh, leaving Michael momentarily weightless in its wake. Like a helium balloon he floated free from the ground for almost a foot before falling back like a dead weight.

The second collision knocked the wind out of him. He writhed on the ground. When he managed to catch his breath, he scrambled to his feet and made his way back to the cottage. By then, the others had gotten the sodden Richard into one of the contour chairs, where he was coughing deeply.

Donald looked up as Michael charged in. “Where the hell is she?”

“She got away in an air taxi!” Michael gasped.

“You let her get away?” Donald cried. He stood up from where he was squatting next to Richard. He was incensed.

“I couldn’t stop her,” Michael said. “She must have called the damn taxi the second she left here.”

“Christ!” Donald said. He put a hand to his forehead and shook his head. “Such incompetence! I can’t believe it!”

“Hey, I did what I could,” Michael complained.

“Let’s not argue,” Perry chimed in.

“Shit!” Donald shouted as he stormed around in a circle.

“I should have decked her,” Richard choked.

Donald stopped his angry pacing. “We’ve hardly started this operation, and we’ve already got a crisis. There’s no telling what she’ll do. We’ve got to move and move fast! Michael, you get your ass back to the Oceanus and don’t let anyone near it!”

“Roger!” Michael said. He grabbed his crossbow and quiver and darted back out into the night.

“We need hostages and we need them fast,” Donald said.

“What about Arak and Sufa?” Perry said.

“They’d be perfect,” Donald said. “Let’s call them over here and hope Suzanne hasn’t talked to them first. We’ll have them come to the dining hall.”

“What about Ismael and Mary Black?” Perry suggested.

“The more the better,” Harvey said.

“Fine,” Donald said. “We’ll call them, too. But that’s all the room we have in the Oceanus.”

Suzanne’s pulse was racing. She’d never felt such anxiety. She knew she was lucky to have gotten away from the group and couldn’t help wondering what would have happened had she not been able to. She shuddered. They seemed to have become strangers, even enemies in their single-mindedness to escape and their concomitant willingness to murder.

Despite what she’d said on the spur of the moment back in her cottage, she wasn’t sure how she felt about anything other than her abhorrence at the idea of being a party to more death. Yet despite her confusion, in order to flee by air taxi she’d had to come up with a destination quickly to get the craft to seal. The first place that had come to her mind was the black pyramid and the Council of Elders.

By the time the air taxi deposited Suzanne at her destination, she was more composed. The transit time had given her an opportunity to think more rationally. She reasoned that the Council of Elders more than anyone should know how to handle the crisis quickly and without injury to anyone.

As she mounted the causeway leading to the pyramid she noticed the entire area was deserted. As a major Interterran governmental center, she’d assumed there would be people available twenty-four hours a day. But this hardly seemed to be the case even after she’d entered the gigantic structure.

Suzanne walked down the gleaming white marble corridor. She saw no one. Approaching the huge, paneled bronze doors, she began to wonder what she should do. Knocking seemed ridiculous given the scale of the surroundings. But she need not have been concerned. The doors opened automatically just as they had that morning.

Walking into the circular colonnaded room beyond, Suzanne advanced to the center and stopped in the same place she’d stood that morning. She looked around at the empty chamber, wondering what to do next.

The silence was complete.

“Hello!” Suzanne called. When there was no answer she called again, louder. Then she called out again, this time at the top of her lungs. Thanks to the dome, she heard her voice echo clearly.

“Can I be of assistance?” a young girl’s voice asked calmly.

Suzanne turned. Behind her, framed in the huge portal, was Ala. Her fine blond hair was in disarray, as if she’d just been pulled from her bed.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Suzanne said. “I’ve come because of an emergency. You must stop my fellow secondary humans. They are about to attempt an escape, and if they do, the secret of Interterra will be lost.”

“Escape is difficult from Interterra,” Ala said. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. It was a gesture so childlike that Suzanne had to remind herself she was dealing with an individual of extraordinary intelligence and experience.

“They plan to use the submersible we arrived in,” Suzanne said. “It is at the Earth Surface Museum.”

“I see,” Ala said. “It would still be difficult, but perhaps it would be best if I send some worker clones to incapacitate the vessel. I will also call the Council for an emergency session. I trust you will be willing to stay and confer with us.”

“Of course,” Suzanne said. “I want very much to help.” She thought about bringing up the tragic deaths that had already occurred but decided there would be time for that later.

“This is an unexpected and disturbing development,” Ala said. “Why have your friends decided to try to escape?”

“They say because of their families and because they have not been given a choice. But they are a very varied group, and there are other issues as well.”

“It sounds as if they don’t yet realize how very lucky they are.”

“I think that’s fair to say,” Suzanne agreed.

An air taxi settled down and opened in the dark and deeply shadowed museum courtyard. Two heavily muscled worker clones disembarked. Both carried sledgehammers, but only one set out for the Benthic Marine submersible. The other kept the air taxi from leaving by maintaining a grip on the edge of the taxi’s opening port.

The first worker clone wasted no time. Reaching the submersible he went directly to the housing for the main battery pack. With practiced hands he opened the fiberglass access panel to expose the main power connector. Then, stepping back, he raised the sledge over his head in preparation of rendering the unit inoperable.

But the heavy hammer did not come down in its normal arc. Instead it slipped from the clone’s hands and fell to the ground with a thud the moment a crossbow bolt pierced the clone’s throat. With a gasping sound he staggered back, clawing at the imbedded missile. A mixture of blood and a clear fluid like mineral oil gushed forth, drenching his black coveralls. After a few awkward steps, the clone toppled over onto his back. Several twitches later, he was still.

Michael cranked the crossbow drawstring back and positioned another bolt. Thus armed he stood up from his hiding place alongside the museum wall and cautiously approached the downed clone. Michael had neither seem nor heard the air taxi: it had landed just out of sight. He felt lucky he’d looked back at the submersible the moment he did, for he had been dozing on and off despite his efforts to stay alert.

Keeping the crossbow trained on the clone, Michael reached out with his right foot and gave the body a kick. The clone didn’t respond although there was another small surge of blood and fluid from the through-and-through neck wound.

Taking one hand away from the crossbow to give himself better balance, Michael gave the body one last, good kick to make sure there was no question about its status. To his shock, the crossbow was ripped out of his hand.

Startled, Michael whirled around to find himself facing a second clone, who’d tossed the crossbow aside and was raising a sledgehammer over his head. Michael instinctively put his hands up although he knew it would be no defense against the coming blow. Back peddling he tripped over the fallen clone and fell across the downed worker, losing his helmet in the process.

Michael desperately rolled to the side as the hammer came down with jarring force, crunching the already incapacitated clone. As the second clone regained his balance and retracted his weapon for another blow, Michael pushed himself up on one knee and drew his Greek short sword. As the clone again lifted the sledge over his head, exposing his abdomen, Michael lunged forward. With Michael’s full weight behind the thrust the sword buried itself to its hilt. A mixture of blood and clear oil gushed onto Michael’s chest.

The startled clone dropped the sledge and grabbed Michael’s head with his two hands. Michael felt himself being lifted off the ground. But it didn’t last. The inordinate strength of the clone ebbed, and he toppled over, dragging Michael with him.

It took almost five minutes for the worker clone’s grip around Michael’s head to relax enough for Michael to extract himself. As he got to his feet he shuddered through a wave of nausea at the smell of the fluid leaking out of the two downed clones. It was like a combination of a slaughter house and an auto repair shop.

Michael retrieved the crossbow. He had new respect for the danger the clones represented. He’d been surprised the second clone had attacked him, and he reasoned that they must have been given some blanket order. The episode also underlined the fact that the clones had no trouble with violence, just as Harv had warned.