Gaia Dreams (Gaiaverse Book 1) (14 page)

Houston, Texas

Houston was a nightmare of humidity and
unseasonable heat that never ended. Sheffield Hutton (the third) was incredibly
annoyed at having to spend yet another day in what he considered the worst
place on the planet. As the President's science advisor, he was obligated to
attend the most significant scientific conferences and was unlucky enough to be
chosen to speak on the last day of this one. Now what we ought to be working
on, he thought, was how to put a dome over places like this hell-hole so we
could keep the temperature at a steady sixty-four degrees every day of the
year. Crossing the busy downtown street, he could see the heat rising off the
black asphalt and cursed NASA for having chosen Houston as its home. Entering
the high-rise office building, he relished the blast of frigid air from the air
vents as he took the elevator down to the tunnel system that would allow him to
traverse most of downtown in underground air-conditioned comfort.

Dr. Sheffield Hutton had climbed to the top on
the backs of a dozen naive research assistants whose original ideas he had
appropriated and published as his own. He was fully capable of generating
original ideas, having an IQ in the upper five percent of the population, but had been
raised in extreme wealth that left him expecting other people to do his work
for him. Tall, six-feet-two-inches, and thin, he presented a hawk-like
appearance to the world with his beaked nose and jet-black hair swept off his
broad forehead in perfectly positioned waves held in place with a styling
mousse designed specifically for him by an exclusive salon. The day's heat had
left his normally crisp, white tailored shirt wilted and clinging to his bony
torso.

The conference was a waste of time. All these
NASA types pontificating about weather changes observed from space grated on
his nerves.

Cape Fair, Mrs. Philpott's House

Mrs. Philpott, Jessica, and John were sitting in
the living room of Mrs. Philpott's house drawing up lists of what they needed
to buy and what needed to be done. Perceval the cat and Harry the dog were also
in attendance. The laptop computer was plugged in and placed on the floor for
easy cat access. Samantha was curled up on the sofa reading a book--another
development of her communication with the animals that Jessica was still
stunned by. Her daughter was quite suddenly reading proficiently.

"John, did you come up with any ideas on what to
do about food?" Mrs. Philpott asked.

"Yes, I think our best bet is to take our
savings and buy some good farm land as near to our two houses as possible.
Basically, we are talking about establishing an enclave of safety in the midst
of the coming chaos. We need to make sure we can grow whatever we will need to
eat because the transportation system will break down, and besides, the
disasters are already affecting some of the agricultural crops and that will
only get worse. And we've all pretty much agreed that money will become worthless
by the end of this year, so we might as well use it to get what we need now."

"But John," Jessica began and then stopped,
biting her lip.

"What is it, hon?" he replied.

"It's just that the savings include the money
for Samantha's college fund. If we use it to buy land and other things...I mean
we don't even really know if this is all going to happen. How can we just wipe
out our savings on the word of a few animals?" Jessica took a deep breath and
ran a hand through her hair.

Mrs. Philpott interjected, "Jessica, dear, I
thought we had all agreed that it is not just the animals that are getting
information, but also Samantha and myself. And haven't we proved the dreams or
predictions are accurate? What about Allenville? That flooding occurred exactly
as Samantha, Harry, and myself saw it in our dreams."

"I know, I know," Jessica said in frustration. "It
just seems so surreal. Look out the window. Nice blue sky, a bright sunny day,
no disastrous storms in sight. Turn on the TV--no warnings of coming disasters.
Sure, the earthquake in California, the increase in tornadoes, and Allenville
have all made the news, but nobody is saying it's the end of the world as we
know it!"

John said, "Jessica, how much more proof do you
want? Do you want to wait until it is too late to prepare? You are concerned
about money for Sam to go to college. Well, I am worried about Sam having
enough to eat next year! If this doesn't happen, you know darn well you and I
are capable of going out and making enough to send Sam to college. I think you
are reacting like this because you don't want to face what is coming."

Harry and the cat looked at each other and shook
their heads. Although it was unusual for Perceval, he had found that
communicating with Harry was relatively easy, a kind of telepathy. He'd never
known about it because he had never wanted to talk with a dog before. And he
had begrudgingly accepted that Harry was smarter than he'd originally thought.
Listening to the humans now, he and Harry agreed that too much time was being
spent on dealing with these humans' feelings. Yet the cat also knew that if the
humans were to respond efficiently, they needed to work out their emotional
reactions. What a species! He turned his attention back as Mrs. Philpott
finished what she was saying.

"--so the bottom line is whether or not you have
enough trust in your daughter, your husband, Harry, Perceval, and me to go on
faith. We'll know tomorrow about the hurricane, so that will be more
verification for you, Jessica. In the meantime, can we at least continue with
the planning? Then if the hurricane doesn't occur, we can re-evaluate where we
stand. And if it does occur, we will know what steps we need to take immediately."

Jessica sighed and smiled ruefully at Mrs.
Philpott. "All right. That sounds good. I do trust all of you--I guess I don't
want to believe it is all really happening. So, we need to buy farm land." She
turned to John and said sardonically, "You know, darling, I've always longed to
be a farmer's wife," and gave him an ironic grin.

"Hey, who said anything about me being the
farmer?" he replied, laughing. Then his face got serious as he continued, "I
guess we'll all be farmers, or hunters and gatherers, before it's done.
Growing food or searching for food may end up taking all our time in the
future."

"You may be right, John," said Mrs. Philpott. "I'd
like to think, though, that we can hold on to more than that. I don't think
losing the basis of our culture, our so-called civilization, would be a bad
thing. But I think we have to always strive to do more than survive. We can't
forget about educating the children, about the importance of the arts, about
keeping what science and technology we can. I think we have to incorporate
these things into the new way of life. Do it differently than our culture has
done it. Anyway, let's get on with the lists."

John reviewed his notes and said, "Here's what I
think. I'll call a realtor and try to buy some property this week. Then we need
to buy some animals--mules, maybe, to pull plows and horses for
transportation...pigs, chickens...I don't know if we will have enough grazing
land to raise cattle. Jessica, you need to get your hands on any books you can
find on farming and gardening. Maybe you can download some of it off the
internet."

Jessica interrupted, "We also need books on
medicinal herbs--oh, my god, no more hospitals and pharmacies. Mrs. P, do you
have anything on how to make antibiotics?"

"I know we'll need more information than what
I have. I'll look into that one. But that brings up a question--do we need to
invite people we know to come here? For instance, do we know any doctors,
dentists, or other specialized professions that we can ask to join us?"

"And what about our families?" Jessica asked. "John,
do you think you could get your mother and sister to come out here--maybe tell
them we want them to come since Samantha was sick, or for a vacation? Because
you know New York will not last. And for that matter, I should call my parents,
as well, get them out of San Francisco. No major city will be a good place to
be if all this happens."

Perceval typed into the computer:

BIG SF QUAKE WILL HAPPEN

"Oh, my god," Jessica said.

Biloxi, Mississippi

"...and that's the weather for this afternoon,
folks, lots of sun and temperatures hovering around the eighty-five degree
mark. Don't forget your sunblock!"

Andy Jordan smiled as he ended his noonday weather
broadcast. The news anchor, Matt Sullivan, turned to him after signing off and
continued a conversation the two had been engaged in during commercial breaks.

"So this woman said we are having a hurricane
today?" Matt said in disbelief.

"Yep," replied Andy, "she calls me up from
somewhere in Arizona and claims to be having visions of natural disasters. The
funny thing was she didn't sound like a nutcase. Very articulate, used all the
right meteorological terms, she sounded mostly, well, scared."

"But why did she call you?" Matt asked.

"Since the hurricane was supposed to hit the
Gulf Coast, she started calling the local stations in the region. I guess I was
the first to actually hear her out without hanging up on her." Andy paused.
Shaking his head, he continued, "All in all, a weird thing, Matt."

As he removed his microphone and headed for his
office, Matt called after him, "You got that right!"

Andy glanced at the latest radar one last time
before leaving the office. All clear, nothing headed their way. He planned to
go home for lunch, take a run with Waldo on the beach, and return to the office
around 2:30 p.m. to prepare for the evening broadcast. As he drove home, he
wondered what would make a person call up TV news stations warning of a
non-existent hurricane.

As Andy pulled his black Range Rover neatly into
the driveway, he heard Waldo barking ferociously in the backyard. Frowning, he
rapidly exited the car and went around the small brick house to the fenced yard
in the back. As he entered through the gate, Waldo jumped up to greet him, paws
on Andy's shoulders, licking his face and trying to bark at the same time.

"Hey, boy, hey, settle down. What's the matter,
fella?" Andy said quietly to the anxious dog. Waldo returned to all fours and
ran to the back door of the house, and then turned and whined at Andy, running
back and forth between Andy and the door.

"What is it, Waldo? Are you hungry? No, I can
see you still have food and water out here. What is it, big guy?" Andy continued
talking in a soothing voice to the dog, hoping to calm him down as he walked up
the few steps to the back door and unlocked it. Waldo bounded past him,
knocking Andy into the door frame as he rushed into the house and headed for
Andy's bedroom.

As he followed Waldo, Andy realized he should
probably show some caution--maybe someone had broken in and that was why Waldo
was so upset. Glancing quickly into the living room and breakfast nook, he saw
nothing was disturbed. The morning paper was still resting on the small, square
dinette table. Moving slowly through the rest of the compact house, Andy could
see nothing that would evoke such an anxiety reaction from the Labrador.

He had bought the house a year ago after he had
adjusted to the fact that the station paid him enough to afford a minimal house
payment each month. The house was plain and would be cramped for more than one
person to live in, but Andy had bought it after one look at the spacious
backyard. He hated leaving Waldo penned up, but couldn't leave him loose during
the hours he was at the station, so a yard big enough for Waldo to run and feel
some sense of freedom had been of paramount importance to Andy. Because Waldo
was able to get some exercise in the backyard, he normally was not tense when
Andy arrived home.

Following the dog into his bedroom, Andy worried
at this change in Waldo. Old fears surfaced as he wondered if somehow someone
had gotten into the yard and done something to hurt Waldo. Could this be some
kind of traumatic reaction? He watched as Waldo ran around the room, stopping
to bark at the bedroom closet, which Andy investigated and found the same as he
had left it that morning, shoes lined up on the floor, clothing hanging neatly
on hangers, nothing strange there. Yet Waldo turned to him and whined. Then the
dog scrambled around him to stand in front of the desk that held Andy's
computer.

"Now what?" Andy said, beginning to feel
exasperated as the Labrador barked at the silent computer. "Come on, boy, what
is the matter?" Andy asked, wishing for the hundredth time that dogs could
talk. Clearly Waldo was trying to communicate something to him, but what?

Brushing back wavy blond hair from his forehead,
Andy crossed the room to the computer, saying, "Okay, pal, we are going to
figure this out. You are obviously upset." He continued turning on the
computer. "See, it is just a machine...nothing to be afraid of here."

Waldo barked several times, and Andy could swear
there was frustration--and maybe fear--in those barks. "So now you are afraid
of the computer? Is that it?" he asked Waldo.

Waldo barked anxiously, then ran to the closet,
stopped for a moment, and then ran out of the bedroom.

"What the hell..."Andy said and chased after the
dog, only to find him at the front door, barking.

Andy opened the front door and Waldo shot out
the opening and down the steps to come to an abrupt halt by the car door. After
listening to a few more barks, Andy asked, with clear frustration in his voice,
"You want to go for a drive? What? What is it, Waldo?"

As Andy crossed the postage-stamp sized front
lawn to the driveway, Waldo took off running back to the house and stood at the
front door yelping. Andy stopped dead and just stared from the car to the dog
to the car again. Taking a deep breath, he talked softly to himself, "Okay,
count to ten. He's just a dog, he can't talk, can't tell me what is wrong with
him, so I have to be patient and think like a dog. He is not intentionally
trying to drive me nuts...." Andy's voice trailed off as he slowly approached
the waiting dog by the front door. Speaking in a gentle, calming voice, Andy
said, "Now, just stay there, Waldo, just calm down, boy, that's right, just
calm down..." only to have Waldo take off running into the house.