Death Wave (5 page)

Holographic salesmen dotted the sidewalk. And women. People walked right through their images, the ultimate in ignoring a sales pitch. Sleek open-topped cars glided by almost silently on the streets, their occupants protected from the weather by invisible energy shields. More money in Mitch's pocket, Jordan thought with a wry smile.

He marveled at the sheer exuberance of these Catalonians. Over the centuries they had built a magnificent, vibrant city for themselves, a city that pulsated with the pure joy of life, and had protected it against the floods that had swamped so many other cities. Yet Barcelona and its people were doomed, Jordan knew. The entire Earth is under a death sentence, unless I can get them to act. Unless I can make them understand what's in their future.

As he and Aditi nibbled at
tapas
at a sidewalk bistro, under the watchful eyes of their security detail, she noticed his abstracted mood.

“You're not happy, Jordan.”

“How can I be? Knowing what we know, how can we be anything but depressed.”

She nodded and reached for her glass of carbonated water. “It will take time to convince them. You knew that when we left New Earth.”

“But there are other worlds that don't have time,” he insisted. “Worlds that need our help. We've got to—”

“Jordan,” Aditi said, quite seriously, “we will do what we can. We will do what we must.”

“But will it be enough?”

Cocking her head slightly to one side, Aditi smiled as she replied, “We'll find out, sooner or later. For now, let's return to our hotel and see what Adri has to say.”

“You've established contact?”

“Yes, of course.”

Of course, Jordan echoed in his mind. Nearly instantaneous communication, faster than light. She takes it for granted.

They hurried back to their hotel.

Jordan sank onto the sofa once again and Aditi sat beside him. She pointed to the holowall, which showed a three-dimensional image of the nearby Pyrenees Mountains. They looked raw and sharp to Jordan; they'd been bare of snow since the first greenhouse warming had struck.

The mountains faded away and Adri's kindly, smiling face appeared. Jordan felt startled, despite himself.

“Friend Jordan,” the old man began. “It is good to speak with you again.”

Adri was the leader of the small community of humanlike people on New Earth. He appeared to be wearing a bluish robe, filigreed with delicate tracings. His face had a slightly Asian cast to it, completely bald, spiderwebbed with age. His eyes were almond-shaped, pale blue; his skin a soft brownish yellow, almost gray. He was smiling slightly in a kindly, nearly fatherly way.

Jordan saw that Adri was in his office—if that was the proper word for it: a spacious, airy room on the top floor of the main building in the city that the aliens had built for themselves. Windows on every wall let in abundant sunlight; through them Jordan could see the city that he had lived in during his stay on New Earth.

“I'm afraid,” Adri began in his thin, almost whispering voice, “that a true conversation between us will be terribly awkward. Even though our communications travel faster than the speed of light, there is still a lag of almost an hour between us and you.”

“Eight point six light-years, traveled in less than an hour,” Jordan murmured. “Not bad at all.”

But Adri kept on talking, without pause. “I apologize for not discussing our communications capability with you earlier. As you recall, our policy has always been to answer your questions completely and honestly, but not to bring up new information until you show you are ready to deal with it by asking questions about it.

“The astronomer among your group, Dr. Rudaki, has become very interested in communicating faster than light. But of course, she would be, with her interest in showing her observations to you.”

Elyse Rudaki, Jordan knew. Our team's astrophysicist. Just like her father. He recalled that Elyse and his brother Brandon had coupled on New Earth. He hoped their romance was flourishing.

Adri plowed ahead. “As you know, friend Jordan, Aditi has sent me the meeting of your World Council. As we expected, they are not terribly upset by the news you have brought them. Two thousand years must seem like an impossibly long time to them. Far too long for them to worry about.”

But the other worlds, Jordan thought, the intelligent creatures who will be destroyed by the death wave in the next century or two …

As if he could read Jordan's mind, Adri continued, “However, there are at least six other planets bearing intelligent species that are in imminent danger from the death wave. It is our hope that your people can save them. Intelligence is very rare in the universe. We cannot sit idly and allow an intelligent species to be destroyed. That would be tantamount to genocide.

“This is a heavy responsibility for you, I know. But I also know that you will strive your best to accomplish it. Most intelligent species destroy themselves before they reach true adulthood. You people of Earth are on the cusp. You are beginning to understand how precious intelligence is. You have the power to help other intelligent creatures to survive, to reach adulthood. But do you have the will to undertake this task?”

Holding up a lean, warning finger, Adri continued, “You are also dangerously near your own destruction. Already the climate shifts you have inadvertently triggered have devastated much of your world.”

“What can we do?” Jordan blurted, even though he knew his words would not reach Adri for nearly an hour.

As if he anticipated the agonized question, Adri went on, “You are alone in this quest, friend Jordan. You and Aditi. I can counsel you and offer an old man's advice. But it is you who must convince your fellow humans that they must reach out to the creatures who are in danger of succumbing to the death wave. The responsibility is on your shoulders. Yours, and Aditi's.”

Jordan turned toward his wife, sitting beside him. She looked just as awestruck as he himself felt.

 

SAN FRANCISCO

Nick Motrenko admired Rachel Amber's nicely rounded butt as he boosted her over the sagging chain-link fence that ran along the perimeter of the old, abandoned fort.

Like Nick, Rachel was young and energetic. And really good-looking, with a lithe, supple body, long dark hair sweeping halfway down her back, and cool blue eyes that sparkled like sapphires. Besides, the word was that she was really good in bed.

As soon as they both got over the fence, Rachel asked, “Won't we set off some alarms or something?”

“Naw,” said Nick. “This place has been abandoned for so long, nobody gives a damn about it.”

Which is why Nick liked the ancient fort. Beyond its gray, weathered stones he could see the glittering bay and the graceful Golden Gate Bridge. Best of all, there were no sensors or cameras or microphones planted to spy on people. Not like in town, where you couldn't hiccup anywhere without half a dozen government sensors taking it down, not even in church.

Nick was athletically lean and tall, but seemed physically incapable of smiling. His high-cheeked face was almost always set in a dour, doleful grimace. Some of his buddies called him a sourpuss, although more than a few young women thought him soulful.

Rachel slowly turned a full circle, taking in the ankle-high grass waving in the wind coming off the bay, the gnarled and bowed trees, the scruffy clumps of thick bushes sprouting here and there.

“You'd think somebody would've developed this land. Y'know, built houses on it or something.”

“The government owns the land. This used to be an anti-missile base, back in the old days.”

“Still, they could put a lot of housing here.”

Nick shrugged. “The government doesn't give a damn about making money, just spending it.”

“I guess,” she said, stepping carefully through the overgrown grass and weeds, looking out for broken glass or other junk. “It's sorta like a park. Kind of wild.”

“Good place to be alone together,” Nick said, as he took her hand and led her toward the edge of the bluff that overlooked the bay. The sun was hot, the wind off the water cool, and there was nobody else around to bother them.

The two of them were in skintight jeans. Rachel wore a self-powered sleeveless top that shifted hues as she walked, like a shimmering rainbow. Nick had on the latest-mod wraparound hiker's blouse, hanging shapelessly to his hips.

“Let's get out of the sun,” Nick suggested. He started toward a small stand of stunted trees off to their left. The wind made their branches rustle.

Once they stretched out side by side in the shade of the trees, Rachel said, “It's like we've got a whole world just to ourselves, isn't it?”

“Sort of.”

“Like New Earth.”

Propping himself on one elbow, Nick asked, “What do you know about New Earth?”

“All the chat rooms are full of the images that the star travelers brought back. It looks like the Garden of Eden, sort of.”

Nick's normal scowl deepened. “The star travelers. And that alien woman they brought back with them.”

“She looks just like a human being.”

“She's an alien.”

“You haven't shown much of their stuff on your blog,” said Rachel.

“I don't just run what everybody else is showing. I want original material for my blog.”

“I saw your piece about ‘beware of Greeks bearing gifts,'” Rachel said. “Why are you so suspicious?”

She was smiling at him, teasing him, really, but Nick didn't catch it. Quite seriously, he replied, “Because I want to interview this Jordan Kell character and the government won't let me do it. They won't let
anybody
get near him.”

She shrugged deliciously. “He's an important man. He's been to another star.”

“That's what I want to be,” Nick said.

“A star traveler?”

“An important man. I want to
be
somebody. Not just another nobody living on a government subsidy.”

“How are you going to do that?” she asked.

“I dunno. Interviewing the star traveler for my blog would be a good start.”

“Gee, yes.”

“But they won't let me near him. They've got him all buttoned up.”

“They're protecting him.”

“From what?”

“From nut cases and weirdos, I guess.”

“You think I'm a nut case or a weirdo?” he asked, almost belligerently.

“No,” Rachel said softly. “I think you're very intense, very dedicated.”

Nick cupped his hands behind his head and gazed through the trees' leafage into the cloud-flecked sky.

“I want to
be
somebody,” he repeated in a whisper.

Rachel turned to him. “Y'know, there's a guy down in Mountain View that I saw a couple of times. You ought to go see him.”

“A guy? Who?”

“He's a guru or something. You know, like a holy man. Very wise. Maybe he could help you.”

“A holy man?” Disdain was clear in Nick's voice.

“Not holy like a priest. Not religious. But he helps people. Helps them to find their way.”

“Sounds like a nut case.”

Very seriously, Rachel said, “He helped me. I wouldn't have found you if he hadn't helped me.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

For the first time that day, Nick Motrenko smiled. Later, he smiled even more. The word he had heard about Rachel was right. Better than right. And they hadn't even needed a bed.

 

PLANS

Anita Halleck leaned back in the therapy chair and waited for its heat and vibrating massage to ease the tension in her back.

The arrogance of the man, she said to herself, thinking of Jordan Kell's appearance at the Council meeting earlier in the day. What does he know of how we've struggled while he was off on his star voyage?

We've fought our way through two bouts of greenhouse flooding. We're working to prevent the Greenland meltdown from turning Europe into another Siberia. We've survived climate changes that have altered the map of the planet, we've rebuilt entire cities and shifted whole populations across continents, we've learned how to handle a world population of twenty billion, keep them at peace, keep them secure, and now Jordan Kell expects us to send missions to the stars.

He's a dreamer, she told herself. Or worse, an idealist. What does he know about the realities of politics? Of the forces that motivate people?

On the other hand, she thought as her taut muscles slowly began to relax, he holds the secret of faster-than-light communication. Or at least, his alien wife does. That's the key to real power. The rock rats scattered among the asteroids can live independently of our control because it takes so long to communicate over those distances. I can give an order to administrators out in the Belt, but it won't reach them for more than an hour. And their response will take just as long to get back to me.

I could bring those dissidents out at the colony orbiting Saturn back into our grasp. And the Jupiter habitats. Even Stavenger and his precious Selene could be brought under our control, if we play our cards right.

Instantaneous communications! I could weave a system of command and control across the entire solar system! And out to the stars!

The communicator in the armrest of her chair chimed softly.

“Answer,” Halleck snapped, irritated by the interruption of her thoughts.

“Signore Castiglione is here,” said the bland synthesized voice of her automated system.

Halleck sat up straight, the pain in her back forgotten. “Send him in!” she said as she got to her feet and swiftly walked to her desk.

Her office door swung open and Rudolfo Castiglione stepped in, smiling handsomely at her.

“Rudy,” said Halleck, extending her arms to him. “Good of you to come on such short notice.”