The Next Continent (49 page)

The front door jerked open. Sohya half expected to see Reika. Instead, it was a man in a tailored beige suit. He jumped to his feet.

“What are you doing here?” he shouted.

“You must be Sohya Aomine. I recognize you. I'm Tae's father.”

“How did you find this place?”

“Your wearcom. You've been spending too much time with my daughter's bodyguards. Very careless. They had everything we needed to trace it.”

“Mr. Toenji! Please don't do this!” Two ELE security men emerged from the kitchen with Reika firmly in their grip. Obviously they were familiar with the layout of the house. “She can't see you now! She's under tremendous stress!” cried Reika.

“That's why I had to come.” Kiichiro brushed past Reika and strode into the room. He went over to Tae and looked down at her coldly.

“Come, Tae. Look at me. You know it's no use. You've reached your limit. It's time for you to come home and let go of Sixth Continent once and for all.”

“Mr. Toenji, you should be ashamed.” Sohya stepped protectively in front of Tae. “Is this how you deal with your daughter? Is force the only language you understand? Can't you understand why she's going to so much trouble to stay away from you?”

“This matter doesn't concern you. I'll deal with you later, after—”

“Tae!” Reika cried out and broke free. She ran over and grabbed her hand. “Are you all right?”

Sohya turned to see the girl slumped over, eyes closed. Her breathing was shallow and rapid. Something was wrong. Sohya felt her forehead; it was on fire.

“Call an ambulance. She's burning up!”

“I'll do it!” Reika ran for the phone.

“Wait,” said Kiichiro. “I'll take her.” He motioned to his security detail. “Get the helicopter.” He looked at Sohya and Reika. “I need you to go to her place and bring a change of clothes.”

“She doesn't have a place!” said Reika. She pointed to a large suitcase in the corner of the room. “That's everything she has now. She's living like a nomad out of that one suitcase!”

“I'll take her to the hospital then. Bring the suitcase in your car.”

Sohya put his arms around Tae and looked up at Kiichiro. “You don't have the right to take her.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Leave her. But when she's better, you owe her an apology!”

“What in the world would I apologize for?” Kiichiro reached out to pull her away from Sohya.

“A fatal traffic accident!”

Kiichiro's hand jerked back. Sohya could only have heard about the accident from Tae. Perhaps this young man knew his daughter better than he imagined.

He motioned to the security detail at the exit. They parted to let Sohya through as he carried Tae in his arms like a fragile doll. Kiichiro did not follow. He stood and watched them go.

[3]

TAE HAD NOT
dreamt for years. When she was able to sleep, she slept deeply, her heart barred against that inner world. She rarely experienced the twilight zone between dreams and wakefulness.

She opened her eyes slightly. A flood of colors struck her retinas.
Oh. This must be a dream
, she thought.

Eyes open wider, coming awake, she realized it was no dream. She was surrounded by flowers—a wall of them, from the floor to higher than her head.

“What…?”

“Well, good morning.” A nurse was standing next to the bed, making notes on a clipboard. She smiled. “We have a limit on flowers in the room, but the man who brought you here asked us to bring everything in. How are you feeling?”

“I think I'm dreaming.”

“You like flowers?”

It's not that
, Tae was about to say, but she couldn't find the words. It wasn't that she disliked flowers. The nurse began replacing her IV bag.

“It's been three days since you collapsed. Fatigue from overwork, plus jet lag, aggravated by a cold. You almost developed pneumonia. You shouldn't have been running around the world without vaccinations either. We're going to conduct more tests. You'll be here for a few more days.”

“When can I leave? If I don't get back to work, everyone will—”

“Everyone is just fine,” said the nurse. “You're famous, Ms. Toenji.”

She tried to sit up. The nurse skillfully eased her back onto the pillows and inserted a thermometer in her ear. “A hundred and one. Still high. You need more rest. Tomorrow if you have an appetite, we'll start you on soft food. Until then you'll just have to be patient.” The nurse rearranged the bedcovers and left the room.

Tae looked around. The number of bouquets was truly unbelievable. Those at the bottom were probably from TGT and Gotoba. So the next layer would be from partners and affiliates. Wouldn't it? She plucked a tiny card from a bouquet nearby.

Take care of yourself, moon Princess. A.B. Navamukundan, KL.

She didn't recognize the name. Someone in Malaysia? The next card was from another unknown sender. And the next. And the next. Some were from individuals, some from companies with no connection to Sixth Continent. There were even a few from foreign politicians.

Then it hit her: her condition had been announced to the world.

How was she going to deal with this? It was hardly good for Sixth Continent's image for people to know that its prime mover had—

Sixth Continent's image?

Hundreds of bouquets. An ocean of compassion. Best wishes from people she'd never met.

Tae looked around the room in a daze. She would never have expected such an outpouring of support. She'd never paid attention to fan mail and automatically filtered messages that didn't appear important. She'd never thought of the effects of her publicity except in terms of numbers—approval ratings, audience share…

Now she was surrounded by pure affection no numbers could convey. As the reality sank in, she felt overwhelmed. She sank deeper into the pillows and closed her eyes. Sohya's voice echoed in the darkness. “A means to an end…”

I'm using these people. And Sohya.

Tae's fever roared back. She fell into a deep sleep.

SENNOSUKE STEPPED OUT
of the limousine and almost lost his footing. Two strong arms supported him from either side.

“Are you all right?” said Ryuichi.

“Sorry about that. I strained my back at the beginning of spring. Once you reach ninety-three, things start falling apart, it seems.”

“Come now, the base won't be complete for another three years. A year of that is our fault, of course,” said Gotoba.

“Not just yours,” said Ryuichi. “I'm forty-five, you're sixty-five. If we don't get on with it, we won't be able to go into space either. Let's get this project finished as soon as possible.”

“The question is whether it will be finished before I retire.” The three men laughed. Each wore an expression of resolve—none wanted to be the first to forgo a trip into space because of his age.

The men left the car and driver behind and walked across a concrete roadway as wide as a six-lane highway. On the opposite side was an enormous, featureless building. Up close, it was so long that its ends were hard to make out. This was just part of TGT's Tobishima facility.

The men stood in front of a single door set into the vast expanse of wall. “What is it you wanted to show us?” asked Gotoba.

“If you've only seen Eve and Adam on a video monitor,” said Ryuichi, “you don't know what a rocket is really like. I want you to experience the real thing.”

“That's how you convinced Aomine,” laughed Gotoba. After witnessing the TROPHY test, Sohya had returned to headquarters fired with such enthusiasm that people wondered if TGT had brainwashed him.

“After you.” Ryuichi opened the door. Inside, the vast building was awash with the flat, white illumination of LCD lights. Immediately before them was a squat tube the size of a microbus, lying on its side. A line of twenty tubes stretched off in both directions.

“This is the HAB. Hybrid Assist Booster.”

“A new engine?”

“Nothing new about it. That's our selling point.” Ryuichi walked up to one of the engines and laid his hand on it.

“You're familiar with the solid boosters strapped to Eve and Adam? They use conventional polymer-binder fuel. HAB uses solid
and
liquid fuel. The booster can be extinguished and reignited—no, let's leave out the technical explanations. I'm not sure I understand it myself.”

“Good,” said Sennosuke. “I have no idea how these things work either. ‘Paraffin fuel binders'? ‘Mandelbrot set cross sections'? It's like a foreign language.” He was reading from a plaque on a stand in front of one of the engines.

“Shinji was so good at explaining this sort of thing,” said Ryuichi quietly. “This was his final design. He thought it was his best. The point is it's for export. As you've probably heard, the old Diet resolution against exporting rocket technology has just been repealed. These engines will be heading out the door soon.”

“You said they'd sell because the design isn't new?” asked Sennosuke.

“The concept has a long history. Like TROPHY, people have been trying to develop an engine like this since the last century.

Shinji made the design safe. These boosters could be used with the Eve launch vehicle—they're reliable enough for manned applications. Of course we won't be doing that since we've already manufactured all the boosters we'll need for Sixth Continent.” He turned to Gotoba. “How are your multidozer sales? I heard you were selling them for extreme environment applications.”

“We're selling a few. If our bid for the Euphrates dredging project wins, we should be able to recoup our development costs.”

“So both our companies have sources of income besides Sixth Continent. Can I interest you in a little philanthropy?”

“I knew this wasn't just a factory tour.” Gotoba's expression indicated he'd been expecting this.

“Reika and our finance people have been working hard. With eight billion in additional funds, we can finish the base. That includes the remaining costs of Phase E. I'd like to propose that Gotoba and TGT jointly provide the funds.”

Sennosuke raised his hand. “Just a moment, Mr. Yaenami. It pains me to hear this. You don't need to go that far.”

Ryuichi ignored him. “I know what you're thinking, Mr. Gotoba. Construction companies aren't supposed to subsidize their own projects. You could withdraw from the project and make a profit elsewhere. So I won't insist. This is a personal appeal.”

“It won't be easy to convince the board.”

Ryuichi was not expecting this response. He'd expected hesitation, quite a bit in fact. But Gotoba's answer meant he had agreed.

“I've been president of the company long enough. The board might kick me out before the project is complete, but it's worth betting my seat on.”

“Mr. Gotoba, are you sure?” asked Sennosuke.

“I can't afford eight billion. That's half the net profit we're expecting from this project. I might be able to swing a billion. But let's consider all the options.”

“I thank you, sir!”

“No need for that. People in our industry hate to withdraw from something once they've taken it on. If it's necessary to get things completed, we're willing to give a bit extra.” Gotoba waved his hand magnanimously.

Ryuichi ran his fingers through his disheveled mane and murmured, “The question is how much of the other seven billion TGT can come up with.”

Sennosuke shook his head and bowed deeply. “I don't know how to thank you—either of you. I wish there were some way I could.”

Ryuichi shook his head and smiled. “The space business has always been full of pitfalls. People make a fortune in the information or entertainment industries and apply their wealth to space development. Then the costs go sky high, they lose their fortunes and have to give up. Frankly, I've been expecting bankruptcy since I joined this project.”

“If only I were still chairman of ELE…No, I'm too old to be calling the tune now. I just hope I can keep helping Tae.”

“We never should've allowed her to bear so much responsibility.”

The three men nodded sadly. Ryuichi and Gotoba were both seasoned executives; they had never blindly assumed Tae could handle the job. They had accepted her because of her abilities and her value as a symbol of the project. Even after ELE had washed its hands of Sixth Continent, they had agreed to her remaining its symbol. But working herself into the hospital could only be regarded as a blunder on her part, both as an executive and an adult. “We need someone who can take over some of her responsibilities. We're the ones who are supposed to be helping her, after all,” said Ryuichi.

“But where can we find someone who's as capable as she is and acceptable to her as well?” The three men exchanged resigned glances. Ryuichi's wearcom chimed. He stepped away for a moment.