Zig Zag (34 page)

They
passed the warehouse where the munitions, weapons, technical
equipment, and water purifier were stored, and Nadja took a path
parallel to the jungle wall.

The
famous rain forest, which to Elisa had seemed like no more than a
smattering of trees and mud, was absolutely magical once she was
inside it. She jumped up and down like a little girl on enormous,
mossy tree roots; she marveled at the size and shape of flowers, and
listened to the endless sounds of life. At one point, what seemed
like a black-and-white model plane buzzed past her.

"Giant
dragonfly," Nadja explained. "Or a damselfly. Those black
spots on its wings are pterostigmas. In some parts of Southeast Asia
they believe they're the souls of the dead."

"I
can see why," Elisa agreed.

Suddenly,
Nadja crouched down. When she stood back up she was holding a little
red, black, and green bottle in her hand. It looked like a witch's
potion, and had six jet-black handles. "This is a
Cetoniidae.
Or
maybe it's a
Chrysomelidae,
I'm
not sure. Beetles, for normal folks." Elisa was amazed. She'd
never seen a beetle so brightly colored. "I have a French friend
who's an expert in coleoptera who'd love to be here right now,"
Nadja added, placing it back on the ground. Elisa made a joke about
the kind of company her friend kept.

Nadja
also showed her a family of stick insects and an unbelievable pink
mantis. Nothing they saw was larger than an insect (except for one
brightly colored lizard), but according to Nadja that was often the
way in jungles. The creatures that inhabited that place hid from each
other, blended in, or camouflaged themselves in order to save their
own lives or to take others'. The jungle was a place of fearsome
disguises.

"If
we came at night with infrared goggles, we might see lorises. They're
nocturnal lemurs. Have you ever seen pictures of them? They look like
teddy bears with huge, scared eyes. And those noises...," Nadja
said, and then froze like an ice sculpture in that green cathedral,
"... are probably gibbons..."

The
lake was large, and the north side of it was marshy, full of
mangroves. Nadja showed her the tiny marsh creatures: crabs, frogs,
and snakes. In the late afternoon light, the water looked dark green.
They walked along the shore until they got to the coral reefs, where
they came across a pool so bright it looked as if it were lined with
emeralds. After looking around cautiously, Nadja took off her clothes
and invited Elisa to do the same.

There
are times when we have the feeling that everything we've ever done in
life up to that moment has been false. Elisa had felt something like
that when she viewed the Unbroken Glass and the Perennial Snows
images, but now it was different. Splashing around in that warm,
crystal clear water, as naked as nature had intended and in the
company of her friend, also naked, she felt it again, maybe more
intensely. The life that she lived surrounded by computers and
equations seemed as fake to her as her velvety reflection on the
water's surface. Her skin, her pores, her whole body submerged in
that cool water—all seemed to be telling her she could do
anything, that nothing stood in her way, that the world lay at her
feet.

She
looked at Nadja and could tell she felt the same way.

They
didn't do anything out of the ordinary, though. For Elisa, just the
thought
was
enough to make her happy. It occurred to her that the (subtle)
difference between heaven and hell could be as simple as not acting
on all the impulses that pop into your head.

It
was an unforgettable afternoon. Maybe not the kind you'd tell your
grandkids about, she guessed, but definitely the kind that, when it
happens, makes you realize that every fiber in your body had been
crying out for it.

Half
an hour later, without even waiting to dry, they got dressed and
headed back. They didn't talk much as they walked back; in fact, they
were pretty much silent. Elisa intuited that their relationship had
reached a new level, a deeper level, and that they no longer needed
words to bond them together.

And
after that day, things got better for her. She went back to the lab,
to her calculations. Days passed almost without her realizing it, and
then on September 15 she experienced a déjà vu when she
interrupted Blanes and his music to show him her results once more.
The figure was almost identical to the one she'd come up with the
first time, except for the last few decimal points.

TWO
days
later, the energy for the Jerusalem time strand was handed in, too,
but they had to wait for Craig and Marini to finish tinkering with
the accelerator. Finally, on Friday, September 24, the whole team
congregated in the control room (Marini called it "the Throne
Room"). A vast hall almost a hundred feet wide and 120 feet
long, it was New Nelson's pret-a-porter architectural gem. Unlike the
barracks, it was made of brick and cement and reinforced with
insulation to minimize the chance of a short circuit. That was where
the four most powerful computers were, as well as SUSAN, the
supraselective accelerator that was Colin Craig's baby. It was a
steel doughnut 45 feet in diameter and 3 feet thick. The magnets that
produced the magnetic field that accelerated the charged particles
were attached to "her" circumference. SUSAN was Project Zig
Zag's great technological triumph. Unlike most accelerators, she only
needed one or two people to operate her and make all the endless
adjustments necessary. The energy levels produced inside her weren't
high, but they were extraordinarily precise. On either side of SUSAN
were two small doors with skulls and crossbones that led to the
station's generator rooms. One stairway, which you reached through
the left door, led up above the doughnut so that whoever needed to
could "touch our little girl's private parts," as Marini
said with his typical macho southern humor.

Sitting
at the telemetric screens, Craig anxiously tapped in the coordinates
of two groups of satellites so they would capture the images of North
Africa and send them down to New Nelson in real time (time strings
could be opened only in real time—or "fresh time," as
the ever-imaginative Marini called it—since storing them in any
way distorted the results). The geographic area selected was about
twenty-five square miles, and was nearly the same for both
experiments. From that, they could obtain the images of Jerusalem and
Gondwanaland, the megacontinent that 150 million years ago was formed
by South America, Africa, the Hindustan peninsula, Australia, and
Antarctica. When they received the images, the computers identified
and selected them, and Craig and Marini started up SUSAN
to
accelerate
the electron beams and make them collide with the calculated
energies.

While
all this took place, Elisa watched her colleagues' faces. They were
all tense and eager, though each with their own idiosyncrasies:
Craig, contained as always; Marini, exultant; Clissot, reserved;
Cheryl Ross, mysterious and practical; Silberg, worried; Blanes,
expectant; Valente, as if he couldn't care less; Nadja, thrilled;
Rosalyn, staring at Valente.

"That's
it," Colin Craig said, getting up from his seat by the
mainframe. "Within four hours, we'll know if the images are
visible."

"If
you're a believer, this would be the time to pray," Marini
added.

No
one prayed. They did, however, attack the food. Everyone was
starving, and lunch was relaxed yet quick.

While
they waited for the image analysis, Elisa recalled her magical
afternoon with Nadja two weeks ago and laughed, thinking that her
friend had been her own "accelerator." She'd given her
enough energy to open up and to realize that she still had a lot to
offer. At the time, she thought they'd have more afternoons like that
for as long as they remained on the island.

Later
on, it became clear that their little excursion had been her last
happy moment before the shadows began to engulf everything.

"THERE
are
images."

"From
both samples?"

"Yes."
Blanes held up a hand to silence their comments. "The first one
is from three or four isolated strings on solid ground, about four
thousand seven hundred billion seconds ago, which is a hundred and
fifty million years."

"The
Jurassic period," affirmed Jacqueline Clissot, as if in a
trance.

"That's
right. And that's not even the best news. You tell them, Colin."

Colin
Craig, who even over the past few exhausting days had not stopped
looking like a dandy in jeans and T-shirt, pushed back his glasses
and gazed at Jacqueline Clissot as if he were about to ask her on a
date.

"Our
analysis shows there are very large, living creatures."

The
computer used to digitalize the images captured from the strings was
set to detect shapes and the movement of objects, with the aim of
picking up on the presence of living organisms.

For
a second, no one spoke. Then something rather remarkable happened.
Clissot, an amazing, fascinating woman— perfect, Nadja called
her—whose outfits gave the strange impression that she wore
more metal than cloth (unlike Ross, she wore steel accessories:
watch, bracelets, rings, pendants), took a deep breath and whispered
a single word that sounded more like a moan.

"Dinos..."

Nadja
and Clissot hugged and people applauded, but Blanes interrupted their
displays of joy, raising his hands.

"The
other image corresponds to Jerusalem, a little over seventy-two
thousand million seconds ago. Our computations situate that in early
April, the year AD 33."

"The
Hebrew month of Nisan," Marini said, winking at Silberg. Now
everyone stared at the German professor.

"There
are also living creatures in this one," Blanes added. "And
they are well defined. According to the computer, there is about a
ninety-nine point five percent chance they're human beings."

This
time there was no applause. The feeling that overwhelmed Elisa was
almost wholly physical. She was trembling, and it felt like it was
emanating from her bone marrow.

"One
or more people walking through Jerusalem, Reinhard," Craig said.

"Or
one or more trained chimpanzees, if we consider the remaining point
five percent." Marini smiled, but Craig shook his head.

Silberg,
who had taken off his glasses, looked at them one by one, as if
daring anyone to be as happy as he was.

AFTER
a
quick, noisy celebration with real champagne served in real champagne
flutes that Mrs. Ross found in the pantry, they all met up in the
screening room.

"Ladies
and gentlemen, take your seats!" Marini shouted. "Come on,
hurry up!
'Le
vite son corte!'
as
Dante said.
'Le
vite son corte!'"

"To
your posts, everyone," Mrs. Ross cried, clapping her hands.

"And
fasten your seat belts!"

Almost
reluctantly they began scooting their chairs, asking questions ("Do
you mind if I sit here?"), calling the person they each wanted
sitting next to them when the lights went down.
As
if it were a scary movie,
Elisa
thought. Cheryl Ross held everyone up by insisting they all finish
off their champagne first and take the glasses out to the kitchen,
which, of course, led to more jokes ("Anything you say, Mrs.
Ross. I'm more afraid of you than of Carter," Marini said) and
delays. Elisa sat by Nadja, in the second row. Blanes had already
begun speaking.