Creations (9 page)

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Authors: William Mitchell

BOOK: Creations
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“What was that all about?” Ross said once Oliver was gone.

“I don’t think he understands where we’re coming from on this,” Safi said. “He’s convinced himself it’s impossible and nothing’s gonna shake him.”

“So why come here?” Ross said. “Why did he even turn up if he thinks the project is worthless and all he’s going to do is make a pain of himself?”

“I’ll be honest, Ross,” Victor said. “Oliver Rudd is a highly respected man when it comes to designing robotic systems. His knowledge and experience will be invaluable later on. He does have a reputation for, ah, not suffering fools gladly, but once we’ve won him round you’ll be glad he’s here. I promise you.”

And that, Max decided, he’d have to see to believe.

* * *

For the last ten days the view from the ESOS facility hadn’t changed: the same bright blue sky, the same turquoise sea, the same sweep of land where the flat part of the island curved round to form the harbour. But now, for the first time, Max could see something different. A cloud had appeared in the distance, a small smudge of white on the horizon, but a cloud all the same. He was amazed how something so simple was managing to hold
his attention.

“So how much have you told Gillian about what you’re doing here?” Ross said. He and Max were sitting on a low wall with one of the island’s beaches ahead of them and the pool hanger loading bay behind them. They’d come out for a break while the machine shop fitted the final few components to the half-scale demonstrator model: Safi’s new design being realised at last.

“Very little, unless I decide to bend the company rules. The contract said ‘complete non-disclosure’, but there may be some leeway for families. How about you, what does Tess know?”

“About the same, Victor’s rules are pretty tight.”

“How does she feel about that? You not being able to tell her anything about the job?”

“She kind of understands. Lots of people are in jobs where they can’t talk about the details. With this job even the overview would be a giveaway. She knows that limits what I can say. Unless she starts working here herself of course.”

“She told Gillian she was trying to get a job here.”

Ross nodded. “Yeah, something in information management ideally. Victor’s going to see what he can do for her. I think the sudden lack of connections is starting to freak her out. She liked the idea of the seclusion out here, but the reality is boring her senseless.”

Gillian on the other hand seemed to be relishing her time there: a whole new nature trail to paint, plus their ongoing appointments with the medical centre. It took a bizarre set of circumstances to make a trip to the company doctor feel like a dream come true.

The sound of a jet flying over made Max and Ross look up. It was one of the ESOS company planes, heading along the coast at low altitude, ready for its turn to final approach.

“That’ll be Marie,” Ross said. “Victor said she might be getting in today. In which case I guess the party’s on.”

* * *

The invitation was for seven, with dinner itself — courtesy of Victor’s wife — not long after. Ross and Tess had decided to ride over with Max and Gillian, mainly because none of the roads had auto-guidance markers for the cars and Gillian had volunteered not to drink for the night. She took them down the unlit zigzag road that led to the bottom of the hillside they all lived on, then drove through the residential zone used by the other company workers. The small white painted villas weren’t much different to their own places.

“So how is everything with Oliver now?” Gillian asked Ross over her shoulder. Oliver seemed to be the main topic of conversation whenever Ross felt free to vent: whatever working relationship the two might have had seemed to have died on day one, and what had started as simple animosity now appeared to be verging on hatred.

“With Oliver? Pretty awful, same as usual. The guy’s offensive, that’s all there is to him. You should hear the way he talks to his backroom team. God knows why Vic brought him out here.”

“His reputation must be better than the rest of him,” Max said.

“Maybe. So what’s your theory on the guy?”

Max paused before answering. “He’s someone who’s spent his entire working life using technology that just fifty years ago would have seemed impossible, but he takes it for granted because it already exists and he can see it round him every day. But as soon as you ask him to look ahead, at things that seem impossible now but one day won’t be, it’s as if some kind of mental block comes down. If he hasn’t seen it done already then there’s no point trying.”

“But didn’t you have your doubts when we started this?”

“Yes, and I still do, but I never doubted it was possible. We just — we need to be careful, that’s all.”

They remained silent until they reached Victor’s house, halfway down the coast road on the beachfront. There they filed inside and joined Safi and Oliver at the table where Victor was helping his wife lay things out.

“You’re in for a treat tonight,” he told them when she was out of earshot. “Marie used to cook for a living. She studied in Brussels for six years.”

Another five minutes later everything was ready. Victor and Marie said grace in French, a family tradition according to him, and then they started.

“So what do you think of our little island?” Marie asked Gillian across the table. Her accent gave away her French-Swiss origins much better than Victor’s did.

“It’s certainly warm enough,” Gillian said. “I’m only just getting used to it. We soon learnt to stay indoors after midday.”

“But that hasn’t stopped you building up quite a tan, I can see. Of course, you may have been that colour when you arrived here for all I know.”

“No, I’ve done all this since we got here. I’m spending most of my time outdoors at the moment. I’m a painter, I do wildlife pictures.”

Even Oliver, who had spent more time indoors than anyone, was several shades redder than when he’d arrived.

“We spend as much time here as we can,” Marie said. “Usually it’s a nuisance to have to pack up and follow Victor off around the world, but coming here is always a treat.”

“So you travel round a lot with work, do you?” Tess said.

“Here and there,” Victor said. “Usually more there than here. I don’t like to think how many times I must have circled the Earth by now. A few I’d imagine.”

“Victor claims he’s going to retire here,” Marie said, “but somehow I doubt it.”

“Why, what do you think?” Max said.

“I don’t think he’ll retire at all,” she said, laughing. “He’ll just
keep on going, dragging me after him.”

“Of course, this place isn’t always quite so warm,” Victor said. “We’re building up to the storm season at the moment. I’d be getting ready for a couple of weeks of rain if I were you.”

“Huh, rain,” Oliver said from where he’d been tactfully placed opposite Victor. “I could have stayed at home if that’s what I wanted.”

“So is that why I’ve been seeing clouds lately?” Max said.

“It is,” Victor said, “though I’m surprised you noticed them. They’re blown off the lee sides of the neighbouring islands, and the nearest ones are over five miles away. If you can see them from here then it’s a sure sign the rains are coming.”

“Are they like cloud tails, or vortex streets? Is that what they are?” Safi said.

“Yes,” Victor said. “That’s exactly what they are. Sometimes they’ll stretch for miles, always downwind of land. The old Polynesian sailors used to navigate the whole ocean using them. It’s called wayfaring, not a map or a compass in sight.”

Safi was nodding. “They’re amazing when you see them from orbit. They’re like little whirlpools being swept downstream, coming off each side of the island. I once saw a whole chain of atolls giving them off, like a hundred tiny volcanoes all erupting at once. It was breathtaking.”

She raised her eyes as she was speaking, with a faraway look on her face. It was something Max had noticed her doing a lot when she was talking about things she’d seen on her travels. A few moments later she returned from wherever her mind had taken her and came back down to earth.

“Well if someone working for me spent their time staring at the scenery, they wouldn’t be working there much longer,” Oliver said. Then he looked along the table, yet again laughing as if at some witticism he’d just made, and seemingly unconcerned that no one else was joining in.

Gillian and Max immediately looked at each other, Gillian
mouthing the words, “what did he say?” as if unsure she’d heard him right. Safi herself said nothing, simply pausing for a moment before she carried on eating. For Ross however, the few seconds’ silence which followed seemed to be just too much of a temptation.

“So, Oliver,” he said. “I heard the other day that these two guys from Ohio are going to stick an engine on a big kite and fly themselves around in it. Are you planning to head over there and tell them not to bother?”

“What are you talking about?” Oliver said, the smile vanishing from his face.

“It just occurred to me that it’s never been done before, so you might want to tell them it’s impossible. And when you’ve done that, there are three guys in Florida trying to fly to the Moon in a rocket ship. You could save them a lot of hassle if you talk to them now.”

Tess was giving him a warning look from across the table. Ross pretended not to notice.

“At least I don’t sit around dreaming up new ways to waste time and money,” Oliver said, teeth gritted. “Or fall for every moronic idea that gets waved in my face.”

“So how many real ideas of your own have you ever had?” Ross continued. “Or do you always just shoot down other people’s ideas, knowing that the law of averages will make you right nine times out of ten?”

Oliver didn’t answer.

“Sounds like a good way to build a career,” Ross said. “All that money you save by never taking risks, and making sure no one else does either. Is that the safest way for you?” He looked Oliver in the eye. “Is that what you used to do in your old job?”

“What do you know about that?” Oliver shouted. He got up from the table, his face red. “What do you know about anything!” Then he turned and left the room, heading for the entrance hall. Victor got up and went after him.

“I guess I hit a nerve there,” Ross said. No one answered him.

Max could hear Victor and Oliver talking in the hallway, but couldn’t make out what was being said. Then he heard the front door open and close again, and Victor came back alone.

“Oliver has decided to go home for the night. He said he was feeling tired. Safi, I don’t think he meant to offend you just then, or anyone else for that matter.”

Max wondered if Oliver had said that himself, or if Victor was saying it for him.

“Victor, I’m sorry I let it get out of hand there,” Ross said. “Would it be easier if I left too?”

“No, you stay where you are, Ross. We shouldn’t let this spoil things.” Then Victor retook his seat and beamed at them all, getting back into his role as host for the evening. “So, how’s the food?”

They carried on for the next half hour, the bad atmosphere eventually clearing, then moved into the lounge. Victor brought in more drinks and joined them.

“Now then, here’s a little game I always like to play with my guests,” he said. “I’ve got a question I want to try out on you. We’re all intelligent, educated people, college degrees or equivalent, so this should be no problem at all. So, as accurately as you can manage, and according to the latest estimates, what do you think is the age of the Universe? Ross, do you want to go first?”

Max knew the prehistory of Earth inside out, but was ashamed to admit that he knew next to nothing about events in the wider cosmos leading up to it. Looking at the blank faces around him he realised that the others were none the wiser too. Ross’s answer, when it came, was obviously a guess.

“I don’t know, twenty billion years?”

“Okay,” Victor said. “How about you, Tess?”

She shrugged. “I’ll say a billion.”

“I won’t ask Marie because she’s sat through this little discussion before, so, Gillian?”

“Er, five million?”

“And Max?”

“Well, life started around four billion years ago, we’re pretty sure of that, and the Earth itself isn’t much older, so I’ll say four times that. Sixteen billion years.”

“Good thinking from Max there. And finally, you, Safi.”

“I think the best estimate is thirteen point seven billion years.”

“So there’s quite a spread of answers,” Victor said. “Anything between five million and twenty billion years. How many of you were just guessing?”

A couple of them murmured that they had been.

“But I don’t think it was really a fair question,” Ross said. “None of us are astronomers, so why should we even need to know? And aren’t people still arguing over it anyway?”

“No,” Victor said, “the answer has been agreed for a few decades now. And you shouldn’t need to be a trained astronomer to know it. It may not be something you use every day but it’s still a fairly significant number.”

“So what is the answer?” Ross said.

“Safi got it right, it’s thirteen point seven billion years. I thought she would know. But I liked your approach Max, starting with something you were sure of and working back from that.”

“But what was the point of the question?” Ross said.

“Well it shows that none of you are particularly religious for a start. Even though your answers varied by a factor of twenty, you were still all going for the scientific big-bang answer. You could easily have said the universe was created in four thousand BC or whatever.”

“No, hold on,” Gillian said. “I wouldn’t say that’s true at all. I’m a Christian, I have been all my life. You can’t say I’m not religious just because of how I answered that one question.”

“That’s interesting,” Victor said, turning to face her. “You say
you’re a Christian, but you still gave an answer in millions of years. Does that mean you don’t believe in the Bible’s version of creation?”

“The six days story? I could have gone with that answer if I’d wanted to. It’s just as likely to be right as any other.”

“But what about all the evidence for the big-bang? The expansion of the universe, the background radiation? Do you accept those?”

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