Abduction (20 page)
Authors: Robin Cook
Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Onbekend, #Unabridged Audio - Fiction, #Suspense & Thriller
"But I didn't kill him," Michael said. "And the whole thing was your idea."
Richard glowered at his friend. "We're in this together, dirtbag. It's your room. Whatever happens to me is going to happen to you. Plain as day." "Come on, you two," Arak called. He was holding open a door to the small hemispherical, windowless structure. The other members of the group were standing to the side and looking back in the divers' direction.
"Regardless," Michael whispered nervously, "the point is that the body is hardly hidden. You got to ask Donald if he can think of a better place for it. He might be an ex-officer asshole, but he's smart." "Okay," Richard said reluctantly.
The two divers quickened their pace and caught up to the others. Arak smiled congenially and then entered the building followed by Suzanne and Perry. As Donald crossed the threshold Richard gave his sleeve a tug. Donald snatched his arm away and glared back at Richard, but kept walking. "Hey, Commander Fuller!" Richard whispered. "Hold up a second." Donald glanced briefly over his shoulder, treated Richard to a contemptuous look, and continued walking. Arak was leading them along a curved, windowless corridor. "I wanted to apologize about last night," Richard said, catching up to Donald so that he was walking right behind him.
"For what?" Donald asked scornfully. "Being stupid, being drunk, or allowing yourself to be duped by these people?"
Richard bit his lower lip before responding. "Maybe all three. We were bombed out of our gourds. But that's not the reason I want to talk to you." Donald stopped short. Richard all but collided with him. Michael did bump into Richard. "What is it, sailor?" Donald demanded in a no-nonsense voice. "Make it on the double. We've got an interesting talk ahead of us that I don't want to miss." "Well, it's just that . . ." Richard began, but then he stumbled over his words, unsure of how to begin. Contrary to his early braggadocio, he was intimidated by Donald. "Come on, sailor," Donald snapped. "Out with it." "Michael and I think we better get the hell out of Interterra," Richard said. "Oh, that's very intelligent of you boneheads," Donald said. "I suppose this sudden epiphany just occurred to you this morning. Well, perhaps I should remind you that we don't know where the hell we are until Arak decides to tell us. So once we've learned that, maybe we can talk again." Donald made a motion to leave. Richard grabbed his arm out of desperation. Donald glared down at Richard's hand. "Let go of me before I lose complete control." "But--" Richard said.
Richard glowered at his friend. "We're in this together, dirtbag. It's your room. Whatever happens to me is going to happen to you. Plain as day." "Come on, you two," Arak called. He was holding open a door to the small hemispherical, windowless structure. The other members of the group were standing to the side and looking back in the divers' direction.
"Regardless," Michael whispered nervously, "the point is that the body is hardly hidden. You got to ask Donald if he can think of a better place for it. He might be an ex-officer asshole, but he's smart." "Okay," Richard said reluctantly.
The two divers quickened their pace and caught up to the others. Arak smiled congenially and then entered the building followed by Suzanne and Perry. As Donald crossed the threshold Richard gave his sleeve a tug. Donald snatched his arm away and glared back at Richard, but kept walking. "Hey, Commander Fuller!" Richard whispered. "Hold up a second." Donald glanced briefly over his shoulder, treated Richard to a contemptuous look, and continued walking. Arak was leading them along a curved, windowless corridor. "I wanted to apologize about last night," Richard said, catching up to Donald so that he was walking right behind him.
"For what?" Donald asked scornfully. "Being stupid, being drunk, or allowing yourself to be duped by these people?"
Richard bit his lower lip before responding. "Maybe all three. We were bombed out of our gourds. But that's not the reason I want to talk to you." Donald stopped short. Richard all but collided with him. Michael did bump into Richard. "What is it, sailor?" Donald demanded in a no-nonsense voice. "Make it on the double. We've got an interesting talk ahead of us that I don't want to miss." "Well, it's just that . . ." Richard began, but then he stumbled over his words, unsure of how to begin. Contrary to his early braggadocio, he was intimidated by Donald. "Come on, sailor," Donald snapped. "Out with it." "Michael and I think we better get the hell out of Interterra," Richard said. "Oh, that's very intelligent of you boneheads," Donald said. "I suppose this sudden epiphany just occurred to you this morning. Well, perhaps I should remind you that we don't know where the hell we are until Arak decides to tell us. So once we've learned that, maybe we can talk again." Donald made a motion to leave. Richard grabbed his arm out of desperation. Donald glared down at Richard's hand. "Let go of me before I lose complete control." "But--" Richard said.
"Can it, sailor!" Donald snapped, cutting off the conversation and yanking his arm away from Richard.
He walked briskly ahead and ducked through a door at the end of the corridor in pursuit of the others. "Why the hell didn't you tell him?" Michael demanded in an irritated whisper. "You didn't tell him either," Richard pointed out. "Yeah, because you said you'd do the talking," Michael said. He threw up his hands in frustration. "Some talking! My grandmother could have done a better job. Now we're back where we started. And you've got to admit, that body's not in the world's best hiding place. What if they find it?" Richard shuddered. "I hate to think. But it was the best we could do under the circumstances." "Maybe we should just stay in the room," Michael suggested. "That's not going to solve anything," Richard said. "Come on! Let's at least find out where we are so we can figure out how to get the hell out." The two men followed Donald and found themselves in a futuristic, circular room thirty feet in diameter with a domed ceiling. There were no windows. A single row of a dozen molded seats surrounded a dark, slightly convex central area.
Arak and Sufa were sitting directly opposite the entrance, in seats with consoles built into their arms. To Arak and Sufa's immediate right were two people the divers had never seen before. Although this couple was dressed in the usual white, they were not as attractive as the other Interterrans. Suzanne and Perry were seated to Arak and Sufa's left. Donald was to the far right, sitting by himself with lots of empty seats between him and the others.
"Please, Richard, Michael," Arak called out. "Take your seats. Anyplace you'd like. And then we'll begin."
Richard made it a point to pass several empty seats to take one next to Donald. Richard nodded to him, but Donald responded by shifting his weight away from the diver. Michael took the seat next to Richard. "Welcome again to Interterra," Arak said. "Today we are going to challenge your intellects in a very positive way. And in the process you will soon learn how very lucky you all are." "How about starting by telling us when we'll be heading home?" Richard said. "Shut the hell up!" Donald growled.
Arak laughed. "Richard, I do appreciate your spontaneity and impulsiveness, but be patient." "First we'd like to introduce everyone to two of our distinguished citizens," Sufa said. "I'm certain you will find talking with them extremely helpful since they, like yourselves, have come from the surface world. May I present Ismael and Mary Black." The couple stood for a moment and bowed. Michael clapped from habit but immediately stopped when he realized he was the only one doing so. Suzanne and Perry regarded the couple with wide-eyed curiosity.
He walked briskly ahead and ducked through a door at the end of the corridor in pursuit of the others. "Why the hell didn't you tell him?" Michael demanded in an irritated whisper. "You didn't tell him either," Richard pointed out. "Yeah, because you said you'd do the talking," Michael said. He threw up his hands in frustration. "Some talking! My grandmother could have done a better job. Now we're back where we started. And you've got to admit, that body's not in the world's best hiding place. What if they find it?" Richard shuddered. "I hate to think. But it was the best we could do under the circumstances." "Maybe we should just stay in the room," Michael suggested. "That's not going to solve anything," Richard said. "Come on! Let's at least find out where we are so we can figure out how to get the hell out." The two men followed Donald and found themselves in a futuristic, circular room thirty feet in diameter with a domed ceiling. There were no windows. A single row of a dozen molded seats surrounded a dark, slightly convex central area.
Arak and Sufa were sitting directly opposite the entrance, in seats with consoles built into their arms. To Arak and Sufa's immediate right were two people the divers had never seen before. Although this couple was dressed in the usual white, they were not as attractive as the other Interterrans. Suzanne and Perry were seated to Arak and Sufa's left. Donald was to the far right, sitting by himself with lots of empty seats between him and the others.
"Please, Richard, Michael," Arak called out. "Take your seats. Anyplace you'd like. And then we'll begin."
Richard made it a point to pass several empty seats to take one next to Donald. Richard nodded to him, but Donald responded by shifting his weight away from the diver. Michael took the seat next to Richard. "Welcome again to Interterra," Arak said. "Today we are going to challenge your intellects in a very positive way. And in the process you will soon learn how very lucky you all are." "How about starting by telling us when we'll be heading home?" Richard said. "Shut the hell up!" Donald growled.
Arak laughed. "Richard, I do appreciate your spontaneity and impulsiveness, but be patient." "First we'd like to introduce everyone to two of our distinguished citizens," Sufa said. "I'm certain you will find talking with them extremely helpful since they, like yourselves, have come from the surface world. May I present Ismael and Mary Black." The couple stood for a moment and bowed. Michael clapped from habit but immediately stopped when he realized he was the only one doing so. Suzanne and Perry regarded the couple with wide-eyed curiosity.
"Mary and I would like to extend our welcome as well," Ismael said. He was a rather tall man with
gaunt, hatchetlike features and deeply set eyes. "We are here because we have experienced what you are about to experience, and because of that we may be able to help. As for a general suggestion, I would encourage you at this point not to try to absorb too much too quickly." Michael leaned over to Richard and whispered, "Do you think he's referring to that fabulous hand cream stuff we used last night?"
"Shut up!" Donald snapped, emphasizing each word. "If you men keep interrupting, I want you to move away from me."
"All right already," Michael said.
"Thank you, Ismael," Arak said. Then looking at each of the visitors in turn he added, "I hope you will all take advantage of the Blacks' offer. We feel that a division of labor will be helpful. Sufa and I will be available for informational issues whereas adjustment issues will be best handled by Ismael and Mary." Suzanne leaned over to Perry. There was a new look of concern on her face. "What does he mean, 'adjustment issues'? How long do you think they intend to keep us here?" "I don't know," Perry whispered back. He'd been struck by the same implication. "Before we begin I would like to present each of you with a telecommunicator and an eyepiece," Sufa said. She opened a box that she'd brought to the meeting and lifted out five small parcels, each with a name printed in bold letters across the top. Carrying them in her arms she walked around the room and handed them out to the designated recipients. Richard and Michael tore theirs open like kids attacking Christmas presents. Suzanne and Perry opened theirs with care. Donald let his sit unopened on his lap. "It's like a pair of glasses and a wristwatch without a face," Michael said. He was disappointed. He tried on the glasses. They were aerodynamically shaped with clear lenses. "It's a telecommunicator system," Sufa said. "They are voice activated, and each is mated to your individual voices, so they are not interchangeable. We'll be showing you how to use them later." "What do they do?" Richard asked. He tried the glasses on as well. "Just about everything," Sufa said. "They connect with central sources whose information will be displayed virtually through the glasses. They also provide communication with anyone else in Interterra by sight and sound. They even do such mundane things as call air taxis, but more about them later." "Let's get started," Arak said. He touched the pad on the console in front of him and the darkened convex area turned a phosphorescent blue. "The first thing we must talk about is the concept of time," Arak said. "This is perhaps the most difficult subject for people like yourselves to grasp because here in Interterra time is not the immutable construct it appears to be on the earth's surface. Your scientist, Mr. Einstein, recognized the relativity of time in the sense that it depends on one's position of observation. Here in Interterra you will confront many examples of such relativity. The simplest, for example, is the age of our civilization. From the perspective of earth surface references, our civilization is incredibly ancient, whereas from our reference point and those of the rest of the solar system, it is not. Your civilization is measured in terms of millennia, ours in
gaunt, hatchetlike features and deeply set eyes. "We are here because we have experienced what you are about to experience, and because of that we may be able to help. As for a general suggestion, I would encourage you at this point not to try to absorb too much too quickly." Michael leaned over to Richard and whispered, "Do you think he's referring to that fabulous hand cream stuff we used last night?"
"Shut up!" Donald snapped, emphasizing each word. "If you men keep interrupting, I want you to move away from me."
"All right already," Michael said.
"Thank you, Ismael," Arak said. Then looking at each of the visitors in turn he added, "I hope you will all take advantage of the Blacks' offer. We feel that a division of labor will be helpful. Sufa and I will be available for informational issues whereas adjustment issues will be best handled by Ismael and Mary." Suzanne leaned over to Perry. There was a new look of concern on her face. "What does he mean, 'adjustment issues'? How long do you think they intend to keep us here?" "I don't know," Perry whispered back. He'd been struck by the same implication. "Before we begin I would like to present each of you with a telecommunicator and an eyepiece," Sufa said. She opened a box that she'd brought to the meeting and lifted out five small parcels, each with a name printed in bold letters across the top. Carrying them in her arms she walked around the room and handed them out to the designated recipients. Richard and Michael tore theirs open like kids attacking Christmas presents. Suzanne and Perry opened theirs with care. Donald let his sit unopened on his lap. "It's like a pair of glasses and a wristwatch without a face," Michael said. He was disappointed. He tried on the glasses. They were aerodynamically shaped with clear lenses. "It's a telecommunicator system," Sufa said. "They are voice activated, and each is mated to your individual voices, so they are not interchangeable. We'll be showing you how to use them later." "What do they do?" Richard asked. He tried the glasses on as well. "Just about everything," Sufa said. "They connect with central sources whose information will be displayed virtually through the glasses. They also provide communication with anyone else in Interterra by sight and sound. They even do such mundane things as call air taxis, but more about them later." "Let's get started," Arak said. He touched the pad on the console in front of him and the darkened convex area turned a phosphorescent blue. "The first thing we must talk about is the concept of time," Arak said. "This is perhaps the most difficult subject for people like yourselves to grasp because here in Interterra time is not the immutable construct it appears to be on the earth's surface. Your scientist, Mr. Einstein, recognized the relativity of time in the sense that it depends on one's position of observation. Here in Interterra you will confront many examples of such relativity. The simplest, for example, is the age of our civilization. From the perspective of earth surface references, our civilization is incredibly ancient, whereas from our reference point and those of the rest of the solar system, it is not. Your civilization is measured in terms of millennia, ours in
millions, and the solar system in billions."
"Oh, for chrissake," Richard complained. "Do we have to sit through all this? I thought you were going to tell us where the hell we are."
"Unless you comprehend the basics," Arak said, "what I'm going to be telling you will be unbelievable, even meaningless."
"Why not work backwards," Richard said. "Tell us where we are and then the other stuff." "Richard!" Suzanne snapped. "Be still!" Richard rolled his eyes for Michael's benefit. Michael showed his impatience by uncrossing and recrossing his legs.
"Time is not a constant," Arak continued. "As I said, your clever scientist Mr. Einstein recognized this, but where he made his mistake was thinking that the speed of light was the upper boundary of motion. It is not the case, although it takes a huge quanta of focused energy to break the boundary. A good analogy from everyday life is the extra amount of energy necessary for a phase change that takes a solid to a liquid or a liquid to a gas. Pushing an object beyond the speed of light is like a phase change into a dimension where time is plastic and related only to space." "Good grief," Richard blurted. "Is this a joke?" Donald stood up and took a seat far from the two divers. "Try to be patient," Arak said. "And concentrate on time not being a constant. Think about it! If time is truly relative then it can be controlled, manipulated, and changed. Which brings us to the concept of death. Listen carefully! On the earth's surface death has been a necessary adjunct of evolution, and evolution the only justification of death. But once evolution has evolved to create a sensate, cognitive being, death is not only not needed, it is a waste." At the mention of death Richard and Michael sank lower into their seats. Perry raised his hand. Arak immediately acknowledged him.
"Are we permitted to ask questions?" Perry asked. "Absolutely," Arak said agreeably. "This is to be more of a seminar than a lecture. But I ask you only to question what I have already said and not question what you believe I am about to say." "You talked about measuring time," Perry said. "Did you mean to imply that your civilization, as you put it, predates our civilization on the earth's surface?" "Indeed," Arak said. "And by a quantum of time almost incomprehensible to your experience. Our Interterran recorded history goes back almost six hundred million years." "Get out of here!" Richard scoffed. "That's impossible. This is all a bunch of bull crap. That's older than the dinosaurs."
"Much older than your dinosaurs," Arak agreed. "And your disbelief is entirely understandable. That is why we go slowly with this introduction to Interterra. I don't mean to belabor the point, but it is far easier
"Oh, for chrissake," Richard complained. "Do we have to sit through all this? I thought you were going to tell us where the hell we are."
"Unless you comprehend the basics," Arak said, "what I'm going to be telling you will be unbelievable, even meaningless."
"Why not work backwards," Richard said. "Tell us where we are and then the other stuff." "Richard!" Suzanne snapped. "Be still!" Richard rolled his eyes for Michael's benefit. Michael showed his impatience by uncrossing and recrossing his legs.
"Time is not a constant," Arak continued. "As I said, your clever scientist Mr. Einstein recognized this, but where he made his mistake was thinking that the speed of light was the upper boundary of motion. It is not the case, although it takes a huge quanta of focused energy to break the boundary. A good analogy from everyday life is the extra amount of energy necessary for a phase change that takes a solid to a liquid or a liquid to a gas. Pushing an object beyond the speed of light is like a phase change into a dimension where time is plastic and related only to space." "Good grief," Richard blurted. "Is this a joke?" Donald stood up and took a seat far from the two divers. "Try to be patient," Arak said. "And concentrate on time not being a constant. Think about it! If time is truly relative then it can be controlled, manipulated, and changed. Which brings us to the concept of death. Listen carefully! On the earth's surface death has been a necessary adjunct of evolution, and evolution the only justification of death. But once evolution has evolved to create a sensate, cognitive being, death is not only not needed, it is a waste." At the mention of death Richard and Michael sank lower into their seats. Perry raised his hand. Arak immediately acknowledged him.
"Are we permitted to ask questions?" Perry asked. "Absolutely," Arak said agreeably. "This is to be more of a seminar than a lecture. But I ask you only to question what I have already said and not question what you believe I am about to say." "You talked about measuring time," Perry said. "Did you mean to imply that your civilization, as you put it, predates our civilization on the earth's surface?" "Indeed," Arak said. "And by a quantum of time almost incomprehensible to your experience. Our Interterran recorded history goes back almost six hundred million years." "Get out of here!" Richard scoffed. "That's impossible. This is all a bunch of bull crap. That's older than the dinosaurs."
"Much older than your dinosaurs," Arak agreed. "And your disbelief is entirely understandable. That is why we go slowly with this introduction to Interterra. I don't mean to belabor the point, but it is far easier
to adapt to your present reality in stages."
"That's all well and good," Richard announced. "But how about some proof for all this baloney. I'm starting to think this whole setup is an elaborate put-on, and frankly, I'm not interested in sitting here wasting time."
Neither Donald nor Suzanne complained about Richard's current interruption. Both were harboring similar thoughts although Suzanne certainly would not have worded her skepticism so rudely. Arak, however, was unfazed.
"All right," Arak said patiently. "We will provide some proof that you can relate to your civilization's history. Our civilization has been observing and recording the progress of your second-generation human civilization since the time of your evolution." "What do you mean exactly by second-generation human?" Suzanne asked. "That will be apparent shortly," Arak said. "First, let's show you some interesting images. As I said, we have been observing your civilization's progress, and until about fifty years ago we could do so at will. Since then your increasing technological sophistication has limited our surveillance to avoid detection. In fact, we have stopped using most of our old-fashioned exit ports, like the one used to admit you to Interterra or the one at Barsama, our sister city to the west. Both were ordered to be sealed with magma, but worker clone bureaucratic ineptitude has stalled the execution of the decree." "My god, you're one long-winded dude," Richard said. "Where's the proof?" "The cavern our submersible ended up in?" Suzanne questioned. "Was that what you call an exit port?" "Exactly," Arak said.
"Is it normally filled with seawater?" Suzanne asked. "Correct again," Arak said.
Suzanne turned to Perry. "No wonder Sea Mount Olympus was never picked up by Geosat. The seamount doesn't have the mass to be sensed on a gravimeter." "Come on!" Richard complained. "Enough stalling. Let's see the proof!" "Okay, Richard," Arak said patiently. "Why don't you suggest some period in your history that you would care to observe from our reference files. The more ancient the better in order to make my point." Richard looked at Michael for help.
"How about gladiators," Michael said. "Let's see some Roman gladiators." "Gladiatorial combat could be seen," Arak said reluctantly. "But such violent recordings are under strict censorship. To view them would require special dispensation by the Council of Elders. Perhaps another era would be more suitable."
"This is goddamn ridiculous!" Richard voiced.
"That's all well and good," Richard announced. "But how about some proof for all this baloney. I'm starting to think this whole setup is an elaborate put-on, and frankly, I'm not interested in sitting here wasting time."
Neither Donald nor Suzanne complained about Richard's current interruption. Both were harboring similar thoughts although Suzanne certainly would not have worded her skepticism so rudely. Arak, however, was unfazed.
"All right," Arak said patiently. "We will provide some proof that you can relate to your civilization's history. Our civilization has been observing and recording the progress of your second-generation human civilization since the time of your evolution." "What do you mean exactly by second-generation human?" Suzanne asked. "That will be apparent shortly," Arak said. "First, let's show you some interesting images. As I said, we have been observing your civilization's progress, and until about fifty years ago we could do so at will. Since then your increasing technological sophistication has limited our surveillance to avoid detection. In fact, we have stopped using most of our old-fashioned exit ports, like the one used to admit you to Interterra or the one at Barsama, our sister city to the west. Both were ordered to be sealed with magma, but worker clone bureaucratic ineptitude has stalled the execution of the decree." "My god, you're one long-winded dude," Richard said. "Where's the proof?" "The cavern our submersible ended up in?" Suzanne questioned. "Was that what you call an exit port?" "Exactly," Arak said.
"Is it normally filled with seawater?" Suzanne asked. "Correct again," Arak said.
Suzanne turned to Perry. "No wonder Sea Mount Olympus was never picked up by Geosat. The seamount doesn't have the mass to be sensed on a gravimeter." "Come on!" Richard complained. "Enough stalling. Let's see the proof!" "Okay, Richard," Arak said patiently. "Why don't you suggest some period in your history that you would care to observe from our reference files. The more ancient the better in order to make my point." Richard looked at Michael for help.
"How about gladiators," Michael said. "Let's see some Roman gladiators." "Gladiatorial combat could be seen," Arak said reluctantly. "But such violent recordings are under strict censorship. To view them would require special dispensation by the Council of Elders. Perhaps another era would be more suitable."
"This is goddamn ridiculous!" Richard voiced.
"Try to control yourself, sailor," Donald snapped.
"Let me understand what you mean," Suzanne said. "Are you suggesting that you have recordings of all of human history, and you want us to suggest some historical time so we can see some images of it?" "Precisely," Arak answered.
"How about the Middle Ages?" Suzanne said. "That's a rather large era," Arak said. "Can you be more specific?" "Okay," Suzanne said. "How about fourteenth-century France." "That's during the Hundred Years' War," Arak said without enthusiasm. "It's curious even you, Dr. Newell, request images from such a violent time. But then again, you second-generation humans have had a violent record."
"Show people at play, not war," Suzanne said. Arak touched the keypad on his console and then leaned forward to speak into a small microphone at its center. Almost immediately the room's illumination dimmed, and the floor screen came alive with blurred images flashing by at an incredible speed. Captivated, everyone leaned over the low wall and watched. Presently the images slowed, then stopped. The projected scene was crystal clear with natural coloring and perfect holographic three dimensions. It was of a small wheat field in the late summer from an altitude of about four or five hundred feet. A group of people had paused in their harvest activities. Their scythes were haphazardly strewn around several blankets on which a modest meal was spread. The audio was of summer cicadas buzzing intermittently.
"This is not interesting," Arak said after a quick glance. "It's not going to be proof of anything. Other than the peoples' crude garments, there is no indication of the time frame. Let's let the search recommence."
Before anyone could respond the screen again blurred as thousands of images flashed by. It was dizzying to watch the rapid flickering, but soon it again slowed and then stopped. "Ah, this is much better," Arak exclaimed. Now the view was of a castle erected on a rocky prominence that was hosting a tournament of some kind. The vantage point was significantly higher than the previous scene. The coloration of the vegetation around the castle walls suggested midautumn. The courtyard was packed with boisterous people whose voices formed a muted murmur. Everyone was dressed in colorful medieval attire. Heraldic pennants snapped in the breeze. At either end of a long, low log fence running down the center of the courtyard, two knights were in the final preparations for a joust. Their colorfully caparisoned horses were facing each other, pawing with excitement. "How are these pictures taken?" Perry asked. He was transfixed by the image. "It's a standard recording device," Arak said. "I mean from what vantage point?" Perry asked. "Some kind of helicopter?" Arak and Sufa laughed. "Excuse our giggles," Arak said. "A helicopter is your technology. Not ours.
"Let me understand what you mean," Suzanne said. "Are you suggesting that you have recordings of all of human history, and you want us to suggest some historical time so we can see some images of it?" "Precisely," Arak answered.
"How about the Middle Ages?" Suzanne said. "That's a rather large era," Arak said. "Can you be more specific?" "Okay," Suzanne said. "How about fourteenth-century France." "That's during the Hundred Years' War," Arak said without enthusiasm. "It's curious even you, Dr. Newell, request images from such a violent time. But then again, you second-generation humans have had a violent record."
"Show people at play, not war," Suzanne said. Arak touched the keypad on his console and then leaned forward to speak into a small microphone at its center. Almost immediately the room's illumination dimmed, and the floor screen came alive with blurred images flashing by at an incredible speed. Captivated, everyone leaned over the low wall and watched. Presently the images slowed, then stopped. The projected scene was crystal clear with natural coloring and perfect holographic three dimensions. It was of a small wheat field in the late summer from an altitude of about four or five hundred feet. A group of people had paused in their harvest activities. Their scythes were haphazardly strewn around several blankets on which a modest meal was spread. The audio was of summer cicadas buzzing intermittently.
"This is not interesting," Arak said after a quick glance. "It's not going to be proof of anything. Other than the peoples' crude garments, there is no indication of the time frame. Let's let the search recommence."
Before anyone could respond the screen again blurred as thousands of images flashed by. It was dizzying to watch the rapid flickering, but soon it again slowed and then stopped. "Ah, this is much better," Arak exclaimed. Now the view was of a castle erected on a rocky prominence that was hosting a tournament of some kind. The vantage point was significantly higher than the previous scene. The coloration of the vegetation around the castle walls suggested midautumn. The courtyard was packed with boisterous people whose voices formed a muted murmur. Everyone was dressed in colorful medieval attire. Heraldic pennants snapped in the breeze. At either end of a long, low log fence running down the center of the courtyard, two knights were in the final preparations for a joust. Their colorfully caparisoned horses were facing each other, pawing with excitement. "How are these pictures taken?" Perry asked. He was transfixed by the image. "It's a standard recording device," Arak said. "I mean from what vantage point?" Perry asked. "Some kind of helicopter?" Arak and Sufa laughed. "Excuse our giggles," Arak said. "A helicopter is your technology. Not ours.
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