The Black Silent

CHAPTER 38

Sam and Haley came ashore at Deer Harbor, on an expansive modern dock attached to a substantial pier. It was nearly as close to Lime Quarry Road as the town of West Sound, but less traveled and less populated. Sarah's best memory had been that the mystery structure was on an unmarked access road, near Lime Stone Quarry, that rounded Turtle Mountain on a lower shoulder. Once they landed, they had no vehicle and there were none for rent this time of year, except at Rosario Resort, which was some distance away and risked alerting Flick's people.

Modern condos stood around the harbor proper; real estate here came at a premium. It was overcast and felt like temperatures were in the high forties, and Sam could feel the drizzle coming on. Even in the gray, the greens still managed to be vivid. The feathery tree needles had a translucence to them that lightened their color and made them seem more ethereal and at home in the ghostlike shrouds of floating mist that were not all that common even in winter. The lower foliage glistened with moisture like a well-tended grocer's aisle.

With Sam in the lead, they hurried past more than one set of prying eyes and hoped that none of them would be connected to Garth Frick. Once up the short hill and away from the harbor, they faded into the forest-covered hills and avoided the neighborhoods. The landscape was spacious and unencumbered with the trappings of high-density living; in the fall and winter quiet patches of morning fog hanging in the trees swallowed the sound before it could find a listening ear.

The invigorating chill made walking easy and gave an escape from sleepy lethargy.

With the daylight it was not difficult traveling in the mostly open forest. Finally they crossed Saw Mill Road, then Lime Quarry Road, and turned parallel to an unnamed road. They remained in the forest, keeping Turtle Mountain to their right and heading toward President Channel.

The turnoff for the private road with the signs came very close to the end of the larger private road, and a little farther along than Sarah had remembered. They crept across the larger, more traveled road and followed along the private drive that took them ever closer to the inland sea and the channel. With the trees limbed up, the forest was especially open and they would be readily visible. As Sam motioned to slow their pace, they saw the lodgelike structure some distance away. From the water's edge a thick layer of fog climbed the hillside, looking like a giant wool carpet that had been pulled over the edge of the island.

Closer to the bluff, the cedar structure looked imposing. Sam estimated that it covered at least five thousand square feet on the footprint alone. It was two stories high, and the side closest the access drive appeared much more open because of the large parking area, circular drive, and covered entry.

Evidently the building site had been carved right out of the hillside and the forest, and a portion of the back side of the structure fell within fifty feet of the forest edge. As they got a better view of the high, rocky bluff, Sam guessed that the building stood some 150 feet above the water.

A closer glimpse revealed their worst fears. There were a number of cars, four of them deputy sheriffs' vehicles, parked in the large circular drive. A sign said ARC Foundation and in smaller letters beneath: Astrology Research Center.

Sam chuckled, knowing that someone must have thought long and hard to disguise Arc as an acronym rather than an abbreviation.

"What do we do now?" Haley said.

Sam's cell phone beeped and he answered.

"Hey," shouted one of the most irreverent and welcome voices Sam knew. "How goes it in the island paradise?"

"It's a little tough at the moment, Grogg."

"Ernie tells me you're back doing a job when you're supposed to be chasing babes or fishing or something."

"That seems to be what I'm doing, although there is a babe here." That got a sidelong glance from Haley.

"I opened one of the files," Grogg said. "One's a bitch and I haven't been able to open it yet, even with all the horsepower of the Brain and all her links. But I'll tell you what I did open."

"Let's hear it."

"According to this document, Ben Anderson is giving the magic antiaging stuff to a bunch of people. I could read you certain portions of the introduction to this report and you'd get the idea."

"Go ahead."

Sam motioned for Haley to hunker down with him; she brought her ear close enough to the phone to hear what Grogg said.

"Okay," Grogg began, "it starts with a bunch of letters to the government. They all address at least three different parties: Homeland Security, the FBI, and Health and Human Resources. A few are copied to NOAA. Anderson lays out a program called ARCLES, and then he refers to certain meetings they've had and conference calls… okay… and then he says that he'll deliver the information-ARCLES, the secrets of the Archaea-that the government wants if the government agrees to do certain things in certain different, um, arenas. Anderson wants promises, commitments, even legislation.

Oh, and funding. It goes on for pages-antiaging, undersea mining, climate programs, energy programs, protection from terrorism and natural disasters. Not surprisingly, it costs a hell of a lot of money. He wants the government to spend megabillions."

"Is there a government response?" Sam asked.

"Lots of them. But I don't see anywhere that the government says they'll do what he wants. I just went to the most recent correspondence and they aren't saying they'll comply. And he says that he won't cooperate until they reach an agreement on every item."

"The disasters? They involve methane?"

"Yeah. But the climate-change thing seems to be Anderson's main focus."

"And the mining is for methane?"

"Yeah."

"And what about the aging treatment?" asked Sam.

"There's a ton on that," said Grogg. "Here, let me read you something.

"The government must commit to a set of immutable principles regarding allocation of the

Arc regimen for aging before impaneling any commission. The goal of the commission would be to develop regulations based on the principles, and to interpret the principles in regard to particular situations, and to make specific allocation decisions. Scientific achievement and contributions to humanity are to be the seminal principles controlling allocation.

Wealth can neither be an allocation criterion nor a disqualifier."

Grogg snorted. "No wonder the government's not game." Then he went on reading:

"The second prerequisite for the release of all information is that the government agree to comply with the manifesto. There must be an honest, binding commitment and a commensurate dedicated budget to the following three endeavors: (1) implementing serious experimental methane recovery from the deep ocean and coal deposits and alternative-energy development with a plan to make the United States foreign-petroleum independent within two decades; (2) an honest evaluation of the risks of methane escapement either through natural means or terrorist acts and a commensurate public education program which we see as crucial to mustering the national will; and (3) research into controlling greenhouse gases by farming the ocean for plankton and related research into long-term climate control."

"God," Sam said. "Ben has been busy."

Haley just shook her head, still stunned at how little Ben had shared with her.

"Okay," Grogg resumed, "that's the last of what Ben says to the government." He then launched into the government reply:

"It is premature to set forth principles of allocation regarding your Arc regimen. Before anything is done, appropriate, FDA-monitored trials must be conducted first with animals, then with people. After trials the next step must be to undertake a study, incorporating the research trials, that can be provided to appropriate committees of the Congress so that they may formulate legislation, if appropriate.

"Obviously the government cannot authorize the immediate use of the Arc regimen on human subjects. Please know that any such subjects will run the risk of an interruption in the treatments.

"Though the government can make no assurances, the FDA would be likely to expedite your application for experimental trials, providing you agree to a full and open disclosure of the science involved.

"As to the other matters, you will need to submit your impressive body of theoretical work for peer review; once that is complete, your suggestions regarding methane mining, energy policy, safety, and climate control can be presented to the legislature.

"Then the government drones on about constitutional democracies, the rule of law, and the like," Grogg said. "I'll take some time with this stuff and try to figure out what's really going on."

"Do that. In the meantime we'll try not to get shot."

"Please be careful," Grogg said in a moment of utter sobriety.

In his gut Sam dreaded the situation in the lodge. Frick had beaten him to the building, which, in all likelihood, housed the majority of Ben Anderson's secrets, if not Ben Anderson himself.

"I can't believe that all this was going on and I never knew it. I just don't get why he wouldn't tell me," Haley said. "I know I said he was trying to protect me, but this is so big… Who did he think would protect him?"

"I understand how you feel," Sam said, hoping he wouldn't sound too blunt. "Let's hope there's still time to get to Ben and talk it over with him."

"Still, though-"

Sam turned and took her gently by the shoulders. "Haley, I don't mean to dismiss your feelings, but I don't want you dead either. It would help me a great deal if you would go back a few hundred yards into the woods and sit down and not move." Before she could protest, he continued. "Call Grogg if I don't come back. He can try to call Ernie in transit."

She didn't blink. "Not a chance."

"You're going no matter what I say?"

"Absolutely. Unless you have something even more dangerous that needs doing."

Sam shook his head, wondering at this woman.

"Sam, this is my problem as much as yours."

He stood, and motioned for her to follow.

"If you don't stay right behind me," he said, "I'll tie you to a tree."

Sam picked the spot closest to the forest, which was the back of the lodge, and crept toward a window. Haley followed like she was his shadow.

The longer the silence in the building continued, the greater his concern, and he'd told Haley as much.

The first window was a back bedroom with no one inside. There was, however, an open suitcase, clothes hanging in an open closet, and shoes in the corner. An open book lay facedown on the nightstand.

They crouched and moved to the next window, that of a corner bedroom, its inner door open. Through the door Sam could see into a large living area with a ceiling that appeared to rise for two stories all the way to the roof. Peering for another ten or twenty seconds, Sam was sure he saw the foot of a man lying down, probably on his side, in the living area. His arm went around Haley's shoulder before he realized he was holding her.

He hurried with her back the way they had come and beyond the first bedroom window to the next bedroom. Once again the door was open and this time Sam could see through to the great room, where at least two bodies lay on the floor.

"It's time to go inside." "Let's go," she said. "I wish you'd stay out here."

"One of us is hard of hearing," Haley whispered. "And it's not me because I'm staying right behind you. As instructed." They circled to the front, saw no one around the parked vehicles, and tried the front door. Sam opened it and immediately he felt light-headed.

They pushed the door all the way open and stepped back. Two men, both in the uniform of the San Juan Sheriff's Department, lay sprawled on the floor, unconscious.

"Gas," Sam said. "But I don't know what kind of gas would knock someone out this way and keep them down."

Nelson Gempshorn and American Bayou came to mind. The company manufactured all sorts of medical equipment and could easily administer a heavy sedative. But to take out this many men?

They waited and watched for a moment; then Sam hurried in and opened windows around the first floor, holding his breath the entire time. He returned, and this time they waited for three or four minutes on the front doorstep.

They went back in. As they walked through the first floor of the lodge, they found a back bedroom with four more men on the floor. The men looked rough and ready, even in repose: definitely Frick men.

"It's odd that four men were all right here," Sam said. "I wonder what they were looking at?"

Sam looked around, searching the walls and the floor. Haley followed, doing the same.

The men lay near a heavy large trunk. Closer inspection of the men and the floor revealed that they probably were gassed, shot by a Taser, and then anesthetized with a hypodermic in the neck. It was elaborate.

Haley pointed at the trunk, and Sam nodded in agreement. Together they pushed on the trunk, but it wouldn't move. It took a moment to realize that it was affixed firmly to the floor. They tried opening it, but it was locked.

"This trunk is curious," Sam said.

"Yes, it is," a voice said. It seemed to come from inside the trunk.

Sam smiled. Such incredible surprises amused him.

"Would it be…?"

"Ben Anderson and company."

The trunk slowly began to open. Sam and Haley stepped back in disbelief. Ben Anderson stuck his head out. Oddly, he wore handcuffs.

Without another thought Haley leaned forward and hugged him long and hard.

"Oh, thank God you're all right," she said.

After they had hugged again, and reproclaimed their joy at seeing one another, Sam cocked his head and pointed at Ben's handcuffs.

"Oh. Yes. If you want to come down, you'll have to put these on. My friends are the anxious sort. Very anxious, actually."

"Where would we be going?" For some reason Sam felt less anxious than he knew he ought to.

"Under this lodge is a very large hollowed-out vault in the rock, and below that an exit out to the sea, as well as tunnels leading to other exits above ground. It's a big place down here."

"These islands are all glacial till," Haley said. "You taught me that yourself. How can there be a cavern?"

In place of an answer Ben held out two sets of cuffs. "I know I haven't been… truthful with you." He was directing his comments at Haley, but he glanced at Sam as well. "You can trust me, if that's what you're wondering."

Sam wondered about Ben's "friends," but he didn't see a choice in the matter. First he moved the bodies away from the trunk in hopes of keeping the trunk's secret a secret.

Then he accepted the cuffs, along with Haley.

Ben led them down a long set of stairs. Sam closed the trunk over their heads and latched the strong but simple lock.

"Miners around the turn of the century made part of this," Ben said, belatedly answering Haley. "So in that sense it's not truly a cavern. For some reason there's limestone in this granite and that's a riddle that the geologists can debate. Now you'll get an idea just how giant these rocks can get. One of them had a hollow in it, as you'll see below."

Sam shook his head silently. This had become surreal, a sort of mix of Alice in Wonderland and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, with Ben playing the role either of the white rabbit or the chocolatier, take your choice.

There were stairs and lots of them, a new test for Sam's legs. For twenty feet or so the steps had been carved in the rock; after that, they were made of wood, going down in a square-edged spiral. Twenty to thirty men stood at the bottom, all gazing upward as they descended. One of them was Lattimer Gibbons. Two were younger men armed with no-nonsense Uzis, both bulky, with backs straight and shoulders squared, obviously the sort whose business was protection. Sam didn't see the two women mentioned in the documents.

As they reached the cavern floor, Sam noted a silver-haired man with a mustache and a bruise on his cheek, who seemed to be calling the shots. He had a perpetual slight smile as a regular part of his expression, as if none of the ironies of life were ever lost on him.

Of the group he seemed the most confident, speaking in short, clipped sentences when he wanted one of the Uzi fellows to move.

"Nelson Gempshorn," Ben said.

Sam and Gempshorn nodded at one another.

As Sam and Haley stood for introductions, they took in the whole of the cavern, which was larger than Sam had expected, and carved from gray stones with occasional white streaks in the walls. In the middle of the man-made cave, and nearly filling it, stood a structure that looked like a typical upper-middle-class house, complete with siding and windows-except that the roof angles were shallow and the shape was rather boxlike.

The floor around the building was stamped concrete that Sam recognized from one area of the Sanker lab complex. Coming from the top of the building, and disappearing into the side of the cave, ran a very large duct pipe.

Another extraordinary feature of the place was a giant copper tank, the size of a two-car garage, in the shape of an ellipse, with all manner of tubes and wire about it. With its hand-crafted look, the contraption appeared to be something out of a nineteenth-century science-fiction story.

"What on earth is that?" Haley asked. "Don't tell me, let me guess. You grow Arcs under pressure and with no oxygen in it."

"Very good," Ben said, stepping closer to hold her hand. He indicated the general space.

"We imported labor to do the rock work and build the lab. Most of the workers, I'm embarrassed to say, were in the country legally but working illegally. We took the best of some Mexican crews building condos for Americans in Baja. When they were down here, they didn't even know where they were. We built the whole thing in ten weeks. No one left the compound during underground construction. It was a phenomenal effort. Of course, the copper vat was built by some very curious metalworkers in a metal-fab shop three states away."

Sam looked around, wondering at both the physical plant and the well-preserved, older gentlemen standing around him.

"We have a great shaft down to the base of the cliffs that comes out in the sea.

Originally we used it to house a large conveyor that moved some of the broken-up rock out to the sea bottom. It also served as an underwater test bed for our research ideas.

That was, and is, its most important function. Today its third and final use comes into play: it's a useful hidden entry to the lab, and an emergency exit."

"How did you fund this project?" Sam asked.

"All courtesy of American Bayou Technologies."

Haley and Sam shared a look, wondering how that worked.

"I'm astounded," Haley said. "All those times you said you were going to Seattle, you were coming here, weren't you?"

Ben looked a little sheepish and Sam knew that Haley was getting heated up.

"I don't see how you could do this…," she began. "Haley, there is a special calling for you. It is a very important position of leadership. In the coming days you will understand why I had to tell you nothing."

To Sam, Ben's words were a great illumination of the twilight that surrounded the grand plan. But his attention returned to Ben's wrists. Of all the scientists in the cavern, Ben was the only one wearing handcuffs. Ben anticipated Sam's question.

"Nelson is the president of our little club at the moment," Ben said. "He speaks for the group. We had a very big misunderstanding, which we've mostly straightened out."

"I see," Sam said. "And I gather you're not part of the group."

"He is one of us," Nelson said. "We're just cautious about Ben."

"Why is that?" Sam asked quickly before Haley could protest.

"Because he is an idealist and we are dealing with hard, practical realities." Nelson said it without derision and Ben seemed to accept it that way.

"It's also because they are slightly paranoid from the Arc regimen and don't really know it," Ben said in a stage whisper.

"That's your view," said Nelson good-naturedly.

From above came the sound of an electrical motor and two large metal plates moved to cover the entry hole, one immediately under the trunk, the other just above the spiral wooden staircase. It would take hours or days to break through the metal plates. Going around them would entail burrowing through solid granite.

As the plates settled into place, one of the beefy security men unlocked Sam's handcuffs. Before Sam could comment, the guard refastened them behind Sam's back.

"I'm Sam and I'm pleased to meet you," he said to the beefcake.

The man nodded, but his face didn't change expressions. "I've heard from Ben that you're a guy who knows his way around."

The other guard never moved his Uzi from Sam's midriff.

"Let's go to the conference room," Ben said, seeming to pay no attention to the Uzis or the handcuffs.

Inside, the house-cum-laboratory was crammed with equipment; in the middle stood a large workbench with a vent over its top. To the right, before entering the lab, was a conference room as spartan and functional as the lab itself.

"The amenities stay topside," Ben said, as if to explain as the group squeezed into the room.

No one responded.

"This thing with the guns and cuffs is silly," Ben said.

"When the whole world will soon be plotting against you," said Nelson, "it is normal to be paranoid." He smiled slightly.

"All right," Ben said. "Everyone here but me, Len, and Stu is on what we call the Arc regimen. Nelson is on a modified lesser form. Hence, he's a little less paranoid."

Nelson didn't smile this time.

"We've read about it," Haley said.

"What have you read?"

Haley explained quickly and very succinctly.

"You got into Sarah's computer," Ben said. "Good for you."

"How were we supposed to know to look there?" Haley asked.

"You got your birthday pearls?"

"Yes," Haley said.

"There was a line drawing in there. It was of a watercolor at Sarah's place. Back of the watercolor."

"Oh," Haley said.

"You must have had your hands full," Sam said, looking at Nelson Gempshorn when he said it.

"I have, for some time," Ben said. "And given the situation above us, it's time the counsel voted."

Sam and Haley shared another glance, wondering what this could mean.

Nelson looked uncertain; the rest of the group appeared to be concerned, but no one spoke.

Ben turned to Sam. "I believe I have persuaded them that we need to completely cloak the secrets of longevity. Destroying files and notes is one thing. You and Frick probably have all that's left, in the way of documentation. To finish the job we need to release Glaueus into the sea. He has genetic markers that could be reverse-engineered to reveal part of the regimen."

"But he could reproduce," Haley said.

"No. He can't," Ben said. "I'll explain, but first we need the vote." He addressed his next comment to the group of scientists: "I have to be freed along with Sam and Haley to go release Glaueus."

As Nelson rose and left to discuss the matter with an apparent American Bayou fellow executive, Ben told the other men, "I would like to talk in private." argument the others left and closed the conference room door.

Haley started to speak, but Ben interrupted her, a grave look on his face.

"Let me explain, sweetie. I kept you out of this because we were breaking the law. If you have an unapproved pharmaceutical and you give it to someone in order to stop them from dying, you are breaking the law. Maybe not a moral law but some regulation or other of the federal government. I knew eventually I'd need someone completely clean and un-involved to be a leader and an intermediary with the government. I hoped you would be one of those people. I was going to bring you in, once we made a deal in principle with the government."

"It makes sense to me," Sam said, but he could tell that Haley didn't completely buy it.

In time she would.

"What was the big misunderstanding you had with Nelson?" Sam asked.

Ben lowered his voice. "For a long time I've been sure that Sanker would do anything to get sole ownership of the regimen. So I created an imaginary persona-I called him Judas-to contact Sanker. Judas was a turncoat, someone close to me, who told them a lot and offered to sell me out."

Sam couldn't help but smile at the crafty counterintelli-gence plan that Ben had concocted.

"When Judas contacted them," Ben said, "instead of calling me, Sanker worked with Judas against me, including hiring Frick."

Sam had a guess. "Did Lattimer Gibbons play 'Judas' for you?"

Ben nodded. "When I knew Sanker was bad, I did some things. I was also worried about my colleagues." He nodded in the direction of Nelson and the group. "The regimen affected their mental condition."

"We read about that," Haley said.

"So are you and the Arc regimen scientists on the same side, seeing eye to eye? With handcuffs?" Sam said wryly.

"You have to understand that they are slightly paranoid, anyway, and a couple days ago they discovered that all the Arcs in that vat had been deliberately exposed to oxygen by yours truly and the Arc DNA destroyed. The Arcs in the vat died in the microbial sense.

Although I saved some Arcs in a special container, the other scientists did not know that, and this misunderstanding was critical in their thinking. I destroyed all the documentation in the vault beneath this building. That's a pretty outrageous thing to do.

Nelson and the others didn't know I'd saved a batch of Arcs in a special portable container. To reassure them, I had left a note saying that I kept some of the Arc regimen in Seattle and I saved some Arcs as well. They didn't find the note, though, and… Well, they went nuts. As a result they did things they shouldn't have done. Like they kidnapped me and brutalized me terribly in a mental sense, although they never intended to hurt me physically.

"Once I explained that I hadn't destroyed all the Arcs- that I had written some things down in Sarah's computer- they became somewhat mollified."

"But not completely," Sam said.

In response Ben held up the cuffs.

"But could they create the Arc regimen without you?"

"Between you and me, probably not. Don't forget, various of them know most of the parts. I think maybe all the parts, generally, if you put all of their knowledge together.

But I actually created it and there are many details. And there is another problem that we can discuss, and that is whether we should keep this technology. But as far as it goes, we are mostly on the same side, they and I. Maybe completely. If they can't stay on Arc, though, we may not be on the same side."

"We hope they are with us," Sam said. "Clearly Frick is against us."

"No doubt about that."

"And Sanker."

"No doubt about that, although Frick and Sanker may not be together."

Sam and Haley nodded their understanding.

"There clearly was more to Lattimer than met the eye," Sam said.

Ben laughed at that. "He sent you to my study in the workshop at Sanker because, until recently, I kept plans for this place there. If you found the plans, you could find this place. He figured your leaving would free him up, and it would also lead you here, eventually. He wanted you to find me, but he didn't want to betray his brethren or lie to them. It's a little odd, but that was Lattimer's way of having it both ways."

"What about the call to Sarah?" Haley asked.

"That was Nelson trying to get to her computer and, to be fair, to save her as well. He believed Frick had her. Lattimer called Sanker and even suggested that the way for Sanker to get what they wanted was to let Sarah go and follow her to Ben. Lattimer was doing his best as Judas to get Sanker to call Frick off Sarah."

"What I don't get," Haley said, "is how you afforded all this. I mean, did Nelson do all this through American Bayou, out in the open?"

"Yep," Ben said. "Maybe not completely out in the open, but to answer your question, American Bayou Technologies is running the energy part of this show. Initially they were investing in the methane-mining part of the equation. In fact, we've been testing certain mining precepts out through the underwater tunnel here. Sanker has no legal interest in that aspect, but they would have made a fortune on the aging discovery if they hadn't tried to steal it. In the end Sanker probably would have controlled American Bayou. Instead, old Sanker himself tried to have Frick kill me and steal Arc."

"So what do you want to do now?" Haley asked. "I'm still trying to decide if the world is ready for this."

"And?"

"I don't know." Ben looked crestfallen. And uncertain. "I don't know," he repeated.

"Right now the genie's not back in the bottle until Glaucus is set free." He paused. "It's a terrible decision to make. I'm responsible for the renewed lives of more than thirty people."

Before he could continue, Nelson and one of the security men entered the conference room. Nelson looked as wild-eyed as any of the other scientists now, but he kept the tone of his voice even.

"They have broken out all the windows up above and now they are tearing the place apart, board by board. They have pulled all the unconscious men outside on the lawn. It is only a matter of time until they discover the steel door." Ben rose.

"We can't put these men down safely like we did the first group," Nelson said as Ben followed him out.

"Are they going to let us go?" Haley called after Ben.

"We're about to find out," Ben said.