Cosega Sphere (The Cosega Sequence Book 4) (17 page)

Taz couldn’t get anywhere near the gate purported to be Gale’s location. He could hear the shootout though, and hoped the feds weren’t dumb enough to kill their most valuable lead. Stellard fed him information from inside the NSA while he watched helplessly from behind a security barrier as a large section of the airport was evacuated.

“They found her and an unidentified man in a routine sweep of a plane from Fiji,” Stellard told him through his earpiece.

“Fiji? Damn, they play wild,” Taz said, hitting his left palm hard enough to feel the sting of his gold rings. One of them, an eagle in flight, had been his father’s, a military man he barely remembered. KIA in Iraq.

“At least three other men were on board the plane as well. A passenger plane, by the way.”

“They flew commercial?” Taz couldn’t believe it. “Any chance the guy is Gaines?”

“The NSA doesn’t believe so, but it hasn’t been entirely ruled out. Still, if Gaines was traveling with her, why would they leave Fiji when there are plenty of places to hide down there and they would remain much closer to their daughter?”

“You’re right. She’s heading to Gaines. It’s the only reason she would take this risk.”

“We’re working on getting you airport security credentials. We had an identity lined up as an airline employee—one of the members owns one of the airlines at that terminal—but in the time it took to get you here, they ordered all employees out and aren’t letting any others inside.”

Taz cursed the time he’d wasted with “that egghead” Dabnowski. “Ever since Gaines was ‘resurrected,’ I’ve been a little late for every party,” Taz said. “We can’t just rely on scraps of information from Wattington. By the time we learn anything, the NSA is already onto the next break.”

“We’ve got the daughter.”

“Exactly. If the NSA gets ahold of the kid, we’ll be out of the game. Every minute that passes is a minute closer to the US government figuring that out. We have to cut a deal with Booker now.”

“But we can’t move the girl,” Stellard said, standing in the Foundation’s darkened conference room. The seldom-used space was a virtual “dome of silence,” utilizing every known anti-monitoring technology, but Stellard came in for the heat. There was a giant gas fireplace set into one wall, surrounded by an ornately carved marble mantle. He loved the flames, generated instantly whenever he pressed the concealed switch. It was his favorite place in the building.

“There must be a way to safely immobilize a six-year-old kid and move her,” Taz said. “I mean, they can replace a human heart. These are just eyes! If the NSA kills Gale Asher, there’ll be far fewer demands on Gaines for a deal.”

“What do you mean?”

“Asher is a ‘mommy.’ That maternal instinct means she’ll betray Gaines, if need be, to save her kid, and she’ll sure as hell put enough pressure on him to help make up his mind. The Sphere for the kid, or, at least, Gaines for the kid.” Taz looked around at the mayhem continuing to build at the airport. “But we have to do it now while Asher is still alive!”

Stellard agreed and immediately made the call to Maxim Miner, also known as the Judge. As current head of the Foundation, the Judge was one of the most powerful people in the world, and he could reach Booker.

—O—

The Judge waited for a series of clicks and transfers. He’d spoken to Booker on numerous occasions and knew the routine—routers, faux stations, and satellite bounces that would make the heavily encrypted call totally untraceable. Booker was not just the world’s wealthiest man, he was the world’s most wanted.

Although he had never been prosecuted for any crime—his lawyers, lobbyists, and contacts were too good for that—the NSA and FBI had put him on a target list ever since the Gaines case. They couldn’t prove any direct wrongdoing by Booker, but there had been enough confrontations with suspected AX agents that meant charges were always pending. There’d actually been open military conflict in Mexico with AX, but somehow Booker had bribed his way out of that mess. The Foundation, on the other hand, didn’t care about proof or how much money the man had. They employed a team of four assassins who worked full time trying to find and kill the trillionaire.

“Maxim,” Booker said, a false smile projected in his tone. “Hope you weren’t kept waiting too long.”

“We’re ready to deal for the girl,” the Judge said, not bothering with small talk.

“I thought we had an understanding that we would talk about that once the doctors had cleared her to move.”

“Events have necessitated that we alter the timetable.”

“Really?” Booker said, watching the same satellite link that Rathmore and Murik were seeing. The Hornets’ stealth pursuit of his little Gulfstream had not been unexpected, and would be a problem, but he was still savoring Gale’s escape from Honolulu.

“We’ll give you the girl for the Sphere.”

“Yes, I’m sure you would,” Booker said, “but there’s only one person who would make that deal with you. Gale Asher, and she sure as hell doesn’t want her daughter permanently blinded.”

“We have reason to believe the US government has a team of agents about to land in Fiji, and the hospital will be their first stop,” the Judge said. “I’ve also just spoken with the head of surgery at the Bascom Palmer Eye Institute and there is a protocol. There is a way to safely move her.”

“Yes, I’ve spoken with people at the Wilmer Eye Institute at Johns Hopkins, and they have said it can be done, but not without some risk.” Booker had been only a few minutes away from ordering a rescue mission on the hospital ever since Cira got out of surgery. He was aware of every possible option.

“Some risk? Don’t you think the girl and her parents are way beyond ‘some risk?’ I mean the odds are quite good that none of them will make it out of this alive.”

Booker glanced at the projections. Gale’s plane, still a few hours away from El Perdido, had enough fuel to land anywhere in the US southwest, California, and most of Mexico or Central America. He had assets, including AX agents, in countless possible landing areas. Anything was possible.

“I won’t give you the Sphere,” Booker said.

The Judge knew he couldn’t threaten to kill the girl or Booker would go to war. That was not something the Foundation could handle right now. They were ready to take Booker on once the Phoenix Initiative had launched, but not before.

“We’ll take Gaines.”

“And you think the father will sacrifice himself for his child?”

“Who said anything about sacrifice?” the Judge said. “We can always use a brilliant man of his caliber at the Foundation. You have so many geniuses, why not trade that one?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“I don’t know, but you’re talking to me, so there must be something.”

Booker watched the shootout at the airport. The link covered only a few cameras, so his view was not optimal, but he saw Kruse go down.

“Get her ready,” Booker said. “Be sure to follow the Bascom Palmer Eye protocols to the letter. No mistakes.”

“So we have a deal. Gaines for the girl?”

“I need to confirm a few things, but yes. Tentatively, we have a deal.”

Gale looked out the window at the ocean below. The world seemed calm and beautiful, belying the turmoil she knew was swirling around her. “Cira, I’m so sorry,” she said softly as tears filled her eyes.

The AX agent who had gotten her onto the plane looked across at her, silently asking if she was all right. Gale nodded and wiped her eyes, turning back to the window. She could almost feel the jets following them. She imagined the satellites tracking her every breath. Gale understood that the NSA had let the plane take off, and knew the reason—Rip and the Sphere. Booker would be cooking up some complex plan, a great escape, but she knew he’d never fly her to El Perdido and the Sphere, not with the entire resources of US intelligence agencies massed against them.

She wondered if Cira was awake.
Maybe they’re keeping her sedated. Is she dreaming of mommy, or maybe Winnie the Pooh? Is she holding her cat Earth?
The thoughts were so painful Gale felt as if she’d swallowed broken glass. Her request to speak with Booker had so far yielded no results. It apparently wasn’t safe to speak with Rip either.

Kruse must be dead
, she thought. Even though he’d drugged her twice and forced her away from Cira, she knew he’d just been doing his job. She would miss the man who, along with Harmer, had kept them all safe for seven years.

Harmer
, she wondered.
Is she still with Cira? How could such a crazy plan ever work? Hiding in the hospital.
Poor Cira.
Gale couldn’t stop her tears from flowing for the next half hour, until the agent told her Booker was on the line. It was a short call, and what he told her made her more anxious than ever, but at least there was hope. Everything depended on perfect timing and utilizing one of the untested secrets of the Sphere.

The Sphere, an unpredictable swirling mass of energy that, somehow, the Cosegans had crafted into a usable entrance into all creation, offered them a chance. Relying on it was all they could do, but its awesome power thus far had proven difficult to harness.

She recalled the time they had spent more than two months watching dinosaurs. No matter what they tried, it was only dinosaurs every day, day after day. After the first month, Booker found the top paleontologist and Rip met him in Hawaii. All the dinosaur data was transferred to INUs at the university where it was still being studied.

Gale worried. What if the Sphere got stuck on dinosaurs again? Or tree frogs, or comets, or anything other than Cira?

—O—

“They let her
go
!?” Taz shouted into the phone. His fist of gold rings smashed into a plastic seat. He looked down at the one the Judge had given him a few years earlier, an inlay design of a mythical phoenix rising from flames. The next finger over held his father’s eagle.

“Obviously they’re following her,” Stellard said, still standing by the fireplace.

“And obviously Booker knows they are,” Taz countered.

“I’m sure, but it buys time.”

“Until what?” Taz asked. “Where the hell are they going to hide?”

“I don’t know, but he’ll never lead them to the Sphere,” Stellard said. “On that front though, I do have a piece of extremely good news. Booker has agreed to give us Gaines in exchange for the daughter.”

“Wow! That is incredible news. Surprisingly good. Can we trust Booker?” Taz asked.

“Of course not, but Gaines and Asher are obviously willing to do anything to protect their daughter and get her back, and he’s acting to protect the Sphere.”

“Gaines must have a way to lock it,” Taz said, then paused to follow a stray thought. “Hey, you don’t think it’s possible that Asher has the Sphere, do you?”

“Why would Gaines have come to Hawaii without it?”

“Who knows?” Taz said. “Maybe I’d better talk to Dabnowski again.”

“Good idea,” Stellard agreed. “I’ve already got the people in Fiji working on readying the girl for the move. I’ll be back in touch as soon as we get a final go from Booker.”

Taz headed toward the exit. His car and driver were waiting. Before he contacted Dabnowski, he thought he’d better spend at least ten minutes looking at the papers he’d left with him. There was certainly time, as Gale Asher was not coming back to Hawaii, and it would still be a couple of hours until Harmer arrived for questioning.

Taz sat in the backseat with the windows down, a warm, fragrant breeze filling the car. He opened the case and was immediately intrigued by the lengthy title “Past and Future Time Exchange: A Method Through Space. Study and Review of the Cosega Sphere.” It was co-authored by Dabnowski and several other scientists, with input from the Inner Movement organization.

As soon as Taz completed reading the first page, he ordered the driver to immediately return to the airport. “Get me on the next flight to the Big Island.”

I’ve got to get to the Mauna Kea Observatories now!

Rip came out of the black fog wondering who the woman was, wondering what this latest surprising episode from the Sphere meant, and wondering how long he had to find the answers. As the otherworldly daze cleared, he immediately thought of Cira and Gale. Relief flowed through him as he realized his Sphere was there, safe, levitating where it had been left. It meant that the woman had her own.
There really is another one!

First he tried to reach Booker, but when that didn’t work, he went back to the Sphere. “Crying Man, where are you?” he asked out loud.

What if the woman with the Sphere is a Cosegan? She might be trying to show me something. Maybe she has the answers —who were the Cosegans, where did they come from, why did they leave the Sphere, and what happened to them?
The same questions he’d asked thousands of times in the past seven years. Rip was convinced that they could not stop the final four Divinations without first fully understanding the Sphere, and that was impossible until they answered the five mysteries. He had hundreds of others questions, but those five were the core to the conundrum.

With Crying Man not responding, Rip wandered out onto the balcony and stared at the ocean. For so long, this view—what had become his deeply personal horizon—had always balanced him in both good and bad situations. Whether clouds or stars, blue, grey, or black . . . standing here in the constant breeze had always fed his soul.

But as he passed an aluminum patio chair, his foot got tangled and he stumbled. Getting up, the chair leg caught in the deck railing, which made him slip against the wall. Rip kicked at the chair, twisting, clawing, smashing it against the stucco wall. Picking it up, pulling the vinyl straps that formed the seat, beating and punching until it was a twisted, broken heap. In a huff, Rip threw the remnants off the balcony and watched it crash onto the rocks below. He slid back to the floor, hands shaking, cuts and scrapes on his knuckles, wrists, and ankles.

All he could see in the frustrated dismay that strangled him was Cira’s face. He could hear her saying “Daddy,” and remembered her first steps, hands raised in triumph. He saw her running to him whenever he came into a room, reading her books . . .

His clenched fist pounded his thigh. “Where are you, sweetie . . .  where are you?” Rip wallowed for minutes or hours, there was no way to measure time against such misery. Everything had been torn apart, taken from him, all but the Eysen, and that he would gladly trade to see his daughter smile again.

A whooshing sound, coming from inside the skyroom, brought back his attention. Rip pulled himself off the deck as if collecting a broken thing from the scene of an accident. His steps were painful, slow, like he was trudging through crusty quicksand. Then he saw Crying Man.

Part of him wanted to attack the Cosegan, to banish even his memory back across the eleven million years. Yet gazing at such a person, the purity of his eyes, the depth of emotions, knowledge, and experience radiating from a face seemingly spun from starlight, made anything other than adoration impossible. Rip knew he’d been falling apart, and believed that Crying Man was there to save him.

“Thank you for coming,” Rip said, so happy to see the vision of the wise man projecting out of the Eysen, full size, vibrant and steady as the morning. “I don’t know what to do,” he continued, hearing his own voice shaky and weak. “For seven years, I’ve been trying to save the Eysen, trying to save the world . . . hoping to save the future.”

Crying Man nodded.

“Now all I want is to save my daughter.”

He stared into Crying Man’s eyes. Layers of tears, oceans deep, gave his eyes the appearance of more than simple extensions of optical nerves. They spoke a language which conveyed the illusion of time.

As with their previous wordless conversation, Rip felt Crying Man’s meaning. “Cira is safe.”

“But the Foundation has her,” Rip whispered painfully.

“She is safe.”

Rip nodded. He believed him. Rip took a deep breath, relieved that someone or something more powerful than himself was watching over his daughter. After a few moments, Rip decided to push for everything. He didn’t know when, or if he would see Crying Man again, and wasn’t even sure he would have the Sphere much longer.

“Tell me how to stop the Death Divinations.”

Although Rip was ready to elaborate on what the Death Divinations were, Crying Man, not surprisingly, knew exactly what Rip meant. He shook his head slowly.

Rip swallowed hard, his throat tight. The answer shocked him into silence.
They can’t be stopped!
He wanted to mourn, thought of screaming a dozen rage-filled protests as if it were Crying Man’s fault. Instead, he stared at the ancient figure, waiting for more, wishing for a change, a clarification.

Nothing.

“Then why?” Rip asked in a desperate voice. “Why did you leave the Spheres? Why let us see the future if we cannot change it?”

“For help,” was the simple response.

“But how does it help? Billions will die! This beautiful, horrible object contains the wisdom of the universe, the history of time, the damned dream of the future, and you mean to tell me I can’t find a way in all of that to stop a super plague, heal the eco-system, or prevent World War Three?”

“Help.”

“How does it help?”
Make me understand.
“Who is the woman with the other Sphere? Can she speak?” Rip considered for a moment that the woman he’d seen could have been the person who created, or at least programmed the Sphere he was looking at. It might have been the same one.

Crying Man put his hands together and bowed slightly, then spread his arms full and wide, starting above his head and arcing out in a broad, wide reach. The motion opened a view. Rip, as if peering though an open window, looked through it. What he saw would forever change him.