The E Utopia Project (14 page)

“Yes, we don’t have any control
over the NRO and their intelligence satellites, but the upside is that the
military people don’t take pictures of Earth willy-nilly like the NASA and ESA
guys. The NRO and other military surveillance agencies concentrate on areas that
they perceive as strategic. Our milking points are not in areas perceived as
potential sources of military threats to the United States, Russia and the other
superpowers. Unless something drastically changes in the world’s geopolitics,
our milking points will be away from scrutiny by the military.”

“But won’t our contacts at
the space agencies and satellite companies tip off the NRO?”

“I’m sure they won’t do
that,” Cruz assured. “I told them that we will be ruthless if they report the
matter to intelligence agencies. I told them that if the NRO or any
intelligence agency finds out, we’ll assume that they tipped them off.”

“But wouldn’t it be wise to
stop milking Earth’s atmosphere for a while and milk Venus instead? The NRO might
decide to direct their surveillance satellites onto the milking point that the
GEMA woman discovered.”

“Venus doesn’t have oxygen.”

“But it has lots of carbon
dioxide, which we could split into carbon and oxygen, or we could let plants
take in the carbon dioxide and release oxygen when we grow forests on EU.”

“Our milkmaids are designed
to harvest oxygen. Your plan will require modifying the milkmaids to harvest
carbon dioxide. It’ll take us time to modify all the milkmaids.”

“In my own opinion, that will
be worthwhile. It’ll remove the risk of being seen by military spy telescopes.”

“I don’t think they’ll do
that,” Cruz said. “Military people are trained to respond to military threats,
not to some hysterical woman whining about aliens. But as a precautionary
measure, I’ve ordered our milking fleets to stop using the milking point that
she discovered. We’re just about to win this war. The Earth is suffocating and
we can’t loosen our stranglehold.”

Gibbs nodded. “You’re right.
We can’t afford to loosen our stranglehold.”

“I’m leaving for E Utopia Saturday
next week,” Cruz said, his gray eyes trained on his glass of whiskey. “Our
operation has reached a critical stage and I need to go and see if E Utopia is
ready for the evacuation of the chosen ones.”

Gibbs visualized himself
having a picnic with his wife and kids on unpolluted E Utopia. “You’re right.
It’s about time we evacuate our chosen ones from here.”

“We promised to evacuate the
loved ones of the pioneers and we must deliver,” Cruz said soberly. “Otherwise
our space force will mutiny. The pioneers are in this project because they
believe their families will be safe. We can’t risk disappointing them. I was
supposed to go to EU tomorrow but I have to wait for the UN summit. I want to
hear how the world leaders will respond to Cummings’ space force proposal.”

“I don’t think they will
adopt the proposal.” Gibbs sucked his whiskey. “The world leaders believe that sand
reduction and UVL plants are the answer to El Monstruo and they want to use all
available resources in that direction. Only people like Sara Cummings who
believe in aliens think that the Earth’s environmental problems have an
external source. The rest of the world is concentrating on reducing pollution
and reversing the effects of the hypothetical oxygen-sucking undersea volcanoes.”

“You’re right, they won’t
adopt her proposal. But I want to be at the summit just to make sure.”

“Even if they were to adopt
her proposal, it would take them months to begin working on the space force.
Governments are bureaucratic by nature. They’ll have to consult with their
parliaments and senates before they can do this kind of thing. Some will even
wait for next year’s budget.”

“I hope you’ll keep
everything under control while I’m on EU.”

“I’ll keep everything under
control.”

“I hope you won’t mess up anything
as you messed up the elimination of Sara Cummings.”

“I’ll be more careful,” Gibbs
promised. “Do you still want us to delete her?”

“If you failed to delete her
when she was alone and unsuspecting, what makes you think you can delete her
now when she’s guarded in the Russian embassy?”

“She might come out soon. She
probably thinks we can no longer touch her now that she held a press conference
and told the world about our intention to eliminate her.”

If she gets out in the next
few days, kill her and make it look like suicide. The whole world will think
she succumbed to her nervous breakdown.”

“I can arrange that.”

“Don’t make mistakes,” Cruz
warned.

“There won’t be any mistakes
this time, Sam. I promise.”

Gibbs was two years older
than Cruz. When they were small boys, Gibbs decided where they went and what
games they played. It was Gibbs’ love for animals and plants that inspired Cruz
to become a conservationist. As the boys grew up, their roles reversed and Cruz
became dominant pal.

“Good. The harvesting fleets are
saying that it’s now taking too long for them to fill the tanks of their
milkmaids during milking missions. The low level of oxygen in the Earth’s
atmosphere is also forcing them to milk at lower attitudes, increasing the risk
of detection by Earth’s powers.”

“Is there a way to fix this?”
Gibbs asked, worry etched on his face. “The longer the milkmaids take to fill
their tanks and the lower their milking altitude the more they expose
themselves.”

“I have a way to mitigate the
problem,” Cruz said.

“I’m listening.”

“It’s simple. I’m going to
pledge seven billion dollars to the construction of standalone UVL plants
around the world.”

“How will that help?”

“The UVL plants will release
oxygen into the atmosphere. This won’t increase the density of the atmosphere’s
air since the oxygen will be made from atmospheric carbon dioxide, but it will
increase the concentration of oxygen in the air, making the job of our
harvesting fleets easier.” The gap between the corners of his mouth increased
in an impish smile. “And it will increase the rate of the decline of the atmosphere’s
carbon dioxide levels.” The smile widened as he imagined the famine that would devastate
the Earth when plants died because of lack of carbon dioxide needed for
photosynthesis.

“That’s a brilliant plan,”
Gibbs said blithesomely.

“Besides, funding the
construction of UVL plants will make us the darlings of the world,” Cruz
boomed, pleased with his own deviousness. “The people of the world will think
that I’m building the UVL plants to provide oxygen for them when in actual fact
I am doing so to produce oxygen for my new planet.”

“And that will take the
world’s eyes away from the activities taking place at our spaceports,” Gibbs
added. “The Bolivian and Congolese governments won’t raise eyebrows if we
launch ten space shuttles a day from our Bolivian and Congolese spaceports.”

“I bet other organizations
will also contribute to the fund. This will give hope to the people of the
world and make them concentrate more on oxygenating the atmosphere than on
looking outside the Earth for answers.”

“That will win us this cold
war,” Gibbs said with a sycophantic giggle.

Cruz raised his glass. “To
success.”

“To success,” Gibbs echoed,
raising his glass.

* * *

After Sara’s press
conference, the ambassador ordered his staff to serve Sara and George some brunch.
Although the food was delicious, Sara only ate a tiny portion. The thought that
her dog was probably hungry took away her appetite. She couldn’t feast whilst
Snoopy was starving. Ironically, she hoped Snoopy was hungry. If the dog was
hungry, it meant he was still alive. George, on the other hand, ate his food
like a hungry wolf.

When he had eaten his fill,
he put his right hand on Sara’s left hand. “Darling, eat your food. You need
all your strength to fight your enemies.”

“I’m worried about Snoopy.”

“Starving yourself won’t help
him.” George squeezed her hand. “Maybe someone rescued Snoopy.”

“Thanks for everything,
George. To think that I spent the last three years hating you.”

“That’s water under the bridge
now,” he said. “The most important thing is that we’re together now. Nothing,
not even your enemies can separate us.”

“I love you, George,” she said
soulfully.

“I love you too, Sah. Please
eat some more. I spent a long time fantasizing about your sexy body and I don’t
want you to dent it with malnutrition.”

She smiled and shoved a
spoonful into her mouth. She ate four more mouthfuls before she told him that
she was full.

“That’s much better.”

The short, bored-eyed young midget
entered the lobby.

“Doctor Cummings, you have a
visitor, your assistant, Nzue Nguema. The ambassador told me to ask you if you
want us to let Mr. Nguema in.”

“Please let him in,” Sara
said. “Thank you.”

The young midget left the
lobby and returned with Nzue moments later. Sara sprang to her feet and almost
lost her balance in a fit of joy when she saw her dog.

“Snoopy!” she squealed.

The dog pulled the leash from
Nzue’s grip and ran to Sara. She crouched and took off the canine’s breathing
machine.

“Snoopy, I missed you,” she
crooned, rubbing her hands on the dog’s neck.

The let out joyful whimpering
sounds.

“He must be hungry,” Sara
said.

“I don’t think so,” Nzue opined.
“I fed him.”

“Thank you, Nzue. Did you
give him water?”

“Yes. The batteries of his
breathing machine were dangerously low but I replaced them. Here is the spare
battery pack.”

“Thank you, Nzue. Snoopy must
have stayed in the sun long enough to recharge the batteries. Please sit down.”

Nzue sat next to George,
facing Sara. She was happy to see her dog but she wasn’t sure how she felt
about seeing Nzue. She knew that either Nzue or Wong, or both of them, had
betrayed her.

“This is my boyfriend
George,” she said. “George, this is my colleague, Nzue.”

“I’m pleased to meet you,
George.”

“Pleased to meet you,” George
echoed.

“What happened, Sara?”

“Someone tried to kill me. He
would have succeeded if it wasn’t for George. Is everyone else okay at work?”

“Everyone is fine.”

“I’ve seen Wong’s interview. Nzue,
do you think I’ve gone nuts?”

“No, Sara. I don’t think you
have gone nuts. How long will you stay here?”

“I don’t know. I’ll only leave
the embassy when I feel safe outside.”

“Does this mean you’ll miss
the summit?”

“Yes. I don’t think I’ll make
it to the summit.”

“So how do you plan to fight the
people who are after you?”

“I haven’t yet come up with a
plan.” She wasn’t going to tell Nzue anything until she was sure that he wasn’t
a mole.

“I’ll continue looking at
satellite images,” Nzue said. “If I find anything interesting, I’ll let you
know.”

Sara put her legs astride her
dog and gently pressed her knees against his ribs. “Thanks for your support, Nzue.
Do not try to help me in any way because it might get you killed.”

“I’ll be fine, Sara,” the
African said. “The police have assigned two cops to protect me.”

“But you must be careful,”
George said. “Two cops won’t be much help against a sniper.”

“I’ll be careful. If you need
me, just call, Sara.”

The midget returned. “Doctor
Cummings, there are two men from the United Nations Department of Safety and
Security waiting outside. They say they have been sent by the UN
Secretary-General. Do you want to talk to them?”

“Bring them in, please.”

The midget shuffled out of
the lobby.

“See you, Sara.”

“See you, Nzue. Thanks for saving
my dog.

“Goodbye, George.”

“Goodbye, Nzue.”

Nzue walked out of the lobby
and met Woodgate and Pires.

“Mr. Nzue Nguema,” Pires
said. “You managed to get here before us.”

“What took you so long?”

“We got lost,” Woodgate said.
“You know how it is driving in a foreign city.”

“Goodbye, gentlemen.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Nzue. Don’t
forget to contact us if you stumble upon any new information.”

“I won’t forget, Mr.
Woodgate.”

Nzue walked toward the gate
and the two men entered the lobby of the embassy’s ceremonial building.

“Doctor Cummings,” the little
Russian said. “I present to you James Woodgate and Didier Pires from the UN
Department of Safety and Security.”

“Thank you very much. What
should I call you?”