Abduction (35 page)
Authors: Robin Cook
Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Onbekend, #Unabridged Audio - Fiction, #Suspense & Thriller
"Something like having two coexisting threats," Perry said. "That way if they block one, the other does
the job. You know what I mean? In order to neutralize the threat they'd have to address both flanks." "That's not a bad idea," Donald said. "Can anybody think of another threat?" No one volunteered anything.
"I can't think of anything on the spur of the moment," Perry said. "Nor can I," Suzanne said.
"We'll start off with the camcorder idea," Donald said. "While we're getting that set up, something else will occur to us."
"What about the weapons in the museum?" Michael asked. "You found some weapons?" Perry asked.
"A whole room full," Donald said. "But unfortunately they're mostly old, outdated, damaged ordnance scavenged off the ocean floor from ancient Grecian times to World War Two. The most promising piece we saw was a German Luger."
"Do you think it would fire?" Perry asked. "It might," Donald said. "The clip is full. Mechanically it seemed clean." "Well, that's something," Perry said. "Especially if it works." "One thing we know for sure," Donald said, "we're not going to be able to pull this off once we get separated into different cities."
"That's right," Perry said. "So we've got less than a month." "We might have a lot less time than a month," Richard said. "Why do you say that?" Suzanne asked.
"Michael and I had a little problem," Richard said. "And I imagine all hell is going to break loose around here one of these days when it's discovered." "Richard, no, don't say anything!" Michael cried. "What is it?" Perry questioned. "What have you done now?" "There was an accident," Richard said.
"What kind of accident?" Donald demanded. "Maybe it would be better if I showed you," Richard said. "You might have an idea of what to do in the interim."
the job. You know what I mean? In order to neutralize the threat they'd have to address both flanks." "That's not a bad idea," Donald said. "Can anybody think of another threat?" No one volunteered anything.
"I can't think of anything on the spur of the moment," Perry said. "Nor can I," Suzanne said.
"We'll start off with the camcorder idea," Donald said. "While we're getting that set up, something else will occur to us."
"What about the weapons in the museum?" Michael asked. "You found some weapons?" Perry asked.
"A whole room full," Donald said. "But unfortunately they're mostly old, outdated, damaged ordnance scavenged off the ocean floor from ancient Grecian times to World War Two. The most promising piece we saw was a German Luger."
"Do you think it would fire?" Perry asked. "It might," Donald said. "The clip is full. Mechanically it seemed clean." "Well, that's something," Perry said. "Especially if it works." "One thing we know for sure," Donald said, "we're not going to be able to pull this off once we get separated into different cities."
"That's right," Perry said. "So we've got less than a month." "We might have a lot less time than a month," Richard said. "Why do you say that?" Suzanne asked.
"Michael and I had a little problem," Richard said. "And I imagine all hell is going to break loose around here one of these days when it's discovered." "Richard, no, don't say anything!" Michael cried. "What is it?" Perry questioned. "What have you done now?" "There was an accident," Richard said.
"What kind of accident?" Donald demanded. "Maybe it would be better if I showed you," Richard said. "You might have an idea of what to do in the interim."
"Where?" Donald barked.
"My room or Mikey's room," Richard said. "It's the same difference." "Lead the way, sailor," Donald growled. No one spoke as the group hiked across the expanse of lawn to the open end of Richard's cottage. They filed in around the edge of the pool. Richard went to the cabinet containing the refrigerator and commanded it to open. Once it had, he bent down and yanked on several of the tightly packed containers, which then tumbled out onto the marble floor. Framed by the remaining haphazardly stacked containers was the frozen, pallid face of Mura. Her hair was matted against her forehead, and the bloody froth had collapsed onto her cheek in a brownish smudge. Suzanne immediately covered her eyes.
"Now, you got to understand, it was an accident," Richard explained. "Michael didn't really mean to kill her. He was just trying to get her to shut up from screaming by holding her head under water." "She went crazy," Michael blurted. "She saw the body of the guy Richard killed." "What guy?" Perry demanded.
"It was a little squirt from the gala," Michael said. "The one who hung around Mura." "Where's his body?" Donald demanded.
"He's jammed into my refrigerator," Michael said. "You idiots!" Perry snapped. "How did the boy die?" "It doesn't matter," Donald muttered. "What's done is done, and Richard is right: the moment these bodies are discovered all hell could break loose." "Of course it matters," Suzanne snapped as she took her hands away from her face to glare at the divers. "I cannot believe this! You men killed two of these peace-loving, gentle people and for what?" "He made a pass at me," Richard explained. "I punched him and he fell and hit his head. I was stoned. I didn't mean to kill him."
"You narrow-minded, bigoted bastards," Suzanne sneered. "Okay, okay," Perry intoned. "Let's ratchet it down a notch. We've still got to work together if there's any hope of getting out of here."
"Perry's right," Donald said. "If we're going to make a break it has to be soon. In fact, we'd better start tonight."
"I'm with you," Richard said as he squatted down to jam the packages back into the refrigerator to re-cover Mura's lifeless face.
"What can we do tonight?" Perry asked.
"My room or Mikey's room," Richard said. "It's the same difference." "Lead the way, sailor," Donald growled. No one spoke as the group hiked across the expanse of lawn to the open end of Richard's cottage. They filed in around the edge of the pool. Richard went to the cabinet containing the refrigerator and commanded it to open. Once it had, he bent down and yanked on several of the tightly packed containers, which then tumbled out onto the marble floor. Framed by the remaining haphazardly stacked containers was the frozen, pallid face of Mura. Her hair was matted against her forehead, and the bloody froth had collapsed onto her cheek in a brownish smudge. Suzanne immediately covered her eyes.
"Now, you got to understand, it was an accident," Richard explained. "Michael didn't really mean to kill her. He was just trying to get her to shut up from screaming by holding her head under water." "She went crazy," Michael blurted. "She saw the body of the guy Richard killed." "What guy?" Perry demanded.
"It was a little squirt from the gala," Michael said. "The one who hung around Mura." "Where's his body?" Donald demanded.
"He's jammed into my refrigerator," Michael said. "You idiots!" Perry snapped. "How did the boy die?" "It doesn't matter," Donald muttered. "What's done is done, and Richard is right: the moment these bodies are discovered all hell could break loose." "Of course it matters," Suzanne snapped as she took her hands away from her face to glare at the divers. "I cannot believe this! You men killed two of these peace-loving, gentle people and for what?" "He made a pass at me," Richard explained. "I punched him and he fell and hit his head. I was stoned. I didn't mean to kill him."
"You narrow-minded, bigoted bastards," Suzanne sneered. "Okay, okay," Perry intoned. "Let's ratchet it down a notch. We've still got to work together if there's any hope of getting out of here."
"Perry's right," Donald said. "If we're going to make a break it has to be soon. In fact, we'd better start tonight."
"I'm with you," Richard said as he squatted down to jam the packages back into the refrigerator to re-cover Mura's lifeless face.
"What can we do tonight?" Perry asked.
"A lot, I'd suspect," Donald said.
"Well, you're the military man," Perry said. "Why don't you take command?" "How does that set with everyone else?" Donald asked. Richard stood up and managed to get the refrigerator door closed with the help of his hip. "Fine by me," he said. "The sooner we're out of here the better." "Me, too," Michael said.
"What about you, Suzanne?" Donald asked. "I can't believe this has happened," Suzanne muttered. She was staring into the middle distance. "They spent a month decontaminating us but we managed to bring disease in anyway." "What the hell are you mumbling about?" Perry asked. Suzanne sighed sadly. "It's like we're Satan's minions invading heaven." "Suzanne, are you all right?" Perry asked. He grasped her shoulders and looked into her eyes. They were brimming with tears.
"I'm just sick at heart," she said.
"I'll take three out of four to be a reasonable mandate," Donald said, ignoring Suzanne. "Here's what I propose. We'll get our wrist communicators, call an air taxi, and get ourselves over to the Earth Surface Museum. Richard and I will visit the submersible to check it out. He'll help me salvage one of the TV cameras. Perry, you and Michael will go into the museum and get weapons. Michael can show you where they are. Take anything you think might be appropriate but be sure you get the Luger." "Sounds good," Perry said. "What about you, Suzanne? Do you want to come along?" Suzanne didn't answer. Instead, she lifted her hands back to her face and massaged her watery eyes. She could not get over the fact that they were responsible for the death of two Interterrans. She wondered what kind of grief such a crime was likely to evoke in Saranta. Two essences who'd survived for eons had been lost forever.
"Okay," Perry said soothingly. "You stay here. We shouldn't be long." Suzanne nodded but didn't even watch as the group filed out of the room through the open end of the cottage. Instead, she looked at the cabinetry that hid the refrigerator and allowed herself to cry. The violent and ugly confrontation she feared was already coming to pass. 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
"Well, you're the military man," Perry said. "Why don't you take command?" "How does that set with everyone else?" Donald asked. Richard stood up and managed to get the refrigerator door closed with the help of his hip. "Fine by me," he said. "The sooner we're out of here the better." "Me, too," Michael said.
"What about you, Suzanne?" Donald asked. "I can't believe this has happened," Suzanne muttered. She was staring into the middle distance. "They spent a month decontaminating us but we managed to bring disease in anyway." "What the hell are you mumbling about?" Perry asked. Suzanne sighed sadly. "It's like we're Satan's minions invading heaven." "Suzanne, are you all right?" Perry asked. He grasped her shoulders and looked into her eyes. They were brimming with tears.
"I'm just sick at heart," she said.
"I'll take three out of four to be a reasonable mandate," Donald said, ignoring Suzanne. "Here's what I propose. We'll get our wrist communicators, call an air taxi, and get ourselves over to the Earth Surface Museum. Richard and I will visit the submersible to check it out. He'll help me salvage one of the TV cameras. Perry, you and Michael will go into the museum and get weapons. Michael can show you where they are. Take anything you think might be appropriate but be sure you get the Luger." "Sounds good," Perry said. "What about you, Suzanne? Do you want to come along?" Suzanne didn't answer. Instead, she lifted her hands back to her face and massaged her watery eyes. She could not get over the fact that they were responsible for the death of two Interterrans. She wondered what kind of grief such a crime was likely to evoke in Saranta. Two essences who'd survived for eons had been lost forever.
"Okay," Perry said soothingly. "You stay here. We shouldn't be long." Suzanne nodded but didn't even watch as the group filed out of the room through the open end of the cottage. Instead, she looked at the cabinetry that hid the refrigerator and allowed herself to cry. The violent and ugly confrontation she feared was already coming to pass. 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.
"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.
"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 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."
"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."
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