The War of Immensities (21 page)

There were
smiles all around, but Andromeda Starlight knew that nothing was
for nothing. “Okay, so where’s the catch, Smooth Man?” she asked
lightly.

Thyssen smiled
evilly. “No free lunches, in science nor anywhere else, hmm? To
begin with, your co-operation. Most of what we know is
unsubstantiated but if made public the danger of unnecessary panic
would be very great. Therefore, for as long as possible,
discretion. Obviously, if this situation is escalating—and I
believe it is—then it won’t stay under wraps for long. But we would
like to be as sure of our information as we can before placing it
before the public.”

“Wadda ya mean
by escalating?” Kevin Wagner demanded.

“We don’t have
enough data to be sure, but indications are that the events are
increasing in strength, the zone of influence is widening thus
threatening increasing numbers of people. And the time span between
events appears to be shortening, by about eleven days, per
instance. This thing has the potential to get a lot worse.”

“How do we keep
this from our wives and families?” Brian wanted to know.

“I said
discretion, not secrecy. I have neither the desire nor the capacity
to coerce you. You must use your own judgement.”

“And is that
all?” Wagner asked.

Thyssen now
settled back on his table—he was getting to the point.

“No. We can
assume that in sixty-four days from today—if our calculations are
meaningful—which means around the 19th of May, the next event will
occur. Therefore, one week prior to the event, on Wednesday the
12th of May, we would like to gather you together and keep you
under close observation before and during the period of the
event.”

“Observation
how?” Andromeda asked suspiciously.

“We are unsure
at this stage,” Thyssen said. “But probably we will locate in
Melbourne. I understand that government policy has caused the
closure of a number of wards in the public hospitals and we will
seek to take over one of those. Hopefully at the one best equipped
for our purposes.”

“You mean
guinea pigs,” Chrissie Rice muttered.

Thyssen rocked
his head in feigned reaction to the attack. “You are already guinea
pigs, but no. We will not be experimenting on you in any way. We
will not want to exert any influence on the effect. We will only
want to monitor your physiological condition and try to determine
the exact nature of the effect on you. It is in your own interest
as much as ours.”

“Can’t do it,”
Joe Solomon said. “I have a law practice to run, you know.”

“By the 17th,
if we are correct, you’ll be on the move anyway. If there are
survivors in Mongolia, you’ll be heading for some point in the sea
off the Philippines. We can help.”

“What if we
refuse?” Brian demanded.

Thyssen’s
mighty shoulders raised a shrug. “Then you refuse. I have no way of
forcing you and if I had such power I would not use it. But the
more you assist us, the sooner we will know how to deal with and
perhaps cure the effect, in yourselves and in others. But it is up
to you.”

“No pressure,
hmmm?” Solomon said coldly.

“Not from
me.”

“I don’t
believe it.”

Thyssen eyed
him sadly. “Tell me, then, Mr Solomon. What do you believe?”

“I can
recognise a cover-up when I see one,” Solomon said pointedly.

“I thought I
was being completely open with you,” Thyssen said with an innocent
look and a spread of his hands.

“Except for all
those other things you are being... discreet about.”

“I assure you
there are none. But please. I am interested in your
impressions.”

“I want to know
why the American government is involved in this? It happened in New
Zealand. Other places, none of them US territory. But here you are,
moving in and taking over.”

Thyssen gazed
at him sadly. “A fair point, Mr Solomon. Given the prior
performance of the United States in global matters, you are very
wise to be circumspect. In the first place, an American researcher
was present at Ruapehu and originally observed the effect. Jami
Shastri, for whom the effect is tentatively named, is one of my
students and her on-going research is centred in my department at
MIT. Right now, she’s headed for Mongolia, trying to find out as
much as she can about the vulcanism of the effect. It is her
project—I am merely her head of department. Secondly, I am not an
American citizen. I am Norwegian, to which my passport will
attest.”

“Sure. But who
is footing the bill for all this?” Solomon demanded.

“MIT. So yes,
US money. But no government agency is involved at this stage.”

“Why should we
believe you?”

“I have no
answer for you,” Thyssen sighed. “But I assure you I am a
vulcanologist, not a CIA agent. And anyhow, Dr Campbell will be in
charge of the medical aspects of the matter, not myself. There will
be no direct American involvement.”

“But we only
have your word for that.”

“Indeed. But
you mentioned a cover-up. What on earth do you imagine is being
covered up?”

“Rest assured,
Professor Thyssen, that I will be making every effort to find
out.”

“Feel at
liberty to do so, Mr Solomon,” Thyssen said. “Should you find out
anything interesting, I’ll be as fascinated to hear it as you
are.”

The impasse
brought them to silence, and Felicity Campbell felt she needed to
contribute then. “I don’t think there is any chemical or other
ecological factor at work here, Joe,” she said to Solomon. “I’ve
been able to monitor Kevin’s condition closely and there is no
indication of any viral or other physiological condition involved.
I think we are dealing with something altogether new.”

“Perhaps some
new sort of virus. Brain wave virus, maybe,” Wagner offered with a
grin.

Felicity
frowned at the idea. “I doubt such a thing could exist.”

Thyssen took
over seamlessly. “Still, we have to keep an open mind about this,
and it is that sort of area we will want to explore. We will try to
arrange as expert a group of specialists as we can, covering as
wide a range as possible, and for the benefit of you, Joe, I’ll
make sure that none of them are American.”

“You approve of
this, then, Felicity?” Wagner asked.

“I think it is
essential that this research be done, yes. To the best of our
ability, yes. As soon as possible, yes.”

There was
another pause, this time broken by Thyssen.

“Fine. Well,
before we go our separate ways, since we are taking opinions, I’d
like each of you to express your own views on what you think is
happening.”

“What does it
matter what we think?” Brian asked.

“You are the
ones who experienced this,” Thyssen said lightly. “You’re thoughts
on the matter are the best information available. And there’s no
telling, at this stage, what might or might not be important. So,
we have Mr Solomon’s view, and Dr Campbell’s. Miss Rice, you’re
very quiet. What are your thoughts?”

“I think we
should not interfere,” Chrissie replied, carefully examining her
fingernails. “I think we should accept and have faith.”

“Faith in
what?” Felicity wondered.

“I believe we
are being guided by the hand of God,” Chrissie said, and she
finally looked up shyly.

“To what end,
Chrissie?” Felicity asked.

“To His divine
purpose,” Chrissie said with sudden emotion. “We must let what
happens happen.”

“But surely we
must try to understand...” Felicity tried.

“To try to
understand is itself a failure of faith.”

Brian Carrick
sat with his arms folded before him. “I don’t believe in God but I
think I know what she means. We are being guided—like the
songlines, for instance.”

“The
songlines?” Thyssen asked.

“Yeah. The
paths the aborigines followed through the Dreamtime. Something like
that.”

“Oh yes,”
Thyssen nodded as if impressed, “I have heard something of this.
Various original North American groups employ similar methods. I
don’t know how it works—I doubt anybody does but its reality cannot
be denied, nor therefore the possibility of its relevance here
dismissed. Consider migrating birds, and whales, and many other
creatures. And the remarkable ability of the Bedouin to find
oases—there’s lots of examples that science cannot explain. It all
might add up to something relevant.”

“It comes on at
you right out of the ground,” Andromeda said. “It’s like I’m
plugged into the planet. It comes up through your feet.”

“Maybe we
should all take off our shoes,” Wagner joked.

“You disagree,
Kevin.”

“Yeah. It ain’t
from the ground. It’s within ourselves. You know how they say we
only use part of our brains. Maybe this is a different part kicking
in.”

“The next step
along the road of evolution?” Thyssen suggested.

“Yeah. Like
maybe all our brains can be linked only we don’t know how. But the
volcano caused us to link in.”

“An interesting
view. Which leaves you, Lorna.”

Lorna thought
about it for a long time. “I feel I know all of you. I feel close
to you, like you do when former lovers become friends. The old
intimacy touches something deeper. We are sharing something. We are
all very close, even though we hardly know anything about each
other.”

“The power of
love,” Felicity suggested.

“Or maybe,”
Lorna said, “contacting the force within ourselves from which love
arises.”

“I’m afraid,”
Thyssen said with a smile, “that on the subject of human emotions,
I am completely out of my field. But another good idea. If only
some of my students were as imaginative and thoughtful as you
people.”

“How about you,
Professor,” Wagner asked. “What do you think?”

“As a
scientist, I’m not allowed to speculate from insufficient data,”
Thyssen grinned.

“We shared our
thoughts. It’s only fair,” Lorna insisted.

“Very well. In
the interest of fairness,” Thyssen said, and paused. “Speaking as a
person, not as a scientist, I’m reminded of Gaia.”

“Who’s
that?”

“The ancient
Greek goddess of the earth. Mother Nature, if you wish, but more
than that. A rather fanciful but by no means discredited idea that
the earth is an organism, a living entity unto itself and we are
part of it, as blood cells or bacteria are part of our bodies.”

“I heard it was
more like the fleas on a dog,” Brian Carrick grunted.

Thyssen raised
his eyebrows. “Well, don’t let its proponents hear you describe it
that way but, in any case, it means that whatever happens to the
planet, happens to us.”

“And this is
relevant, how?” Joe Solomon asked suspiciously.

Thyssen
shrugged as if it was a small thing he was saying. “I think the
planet is in trouble and it’s screaming out for help. I think you
are hearing the voice of Gaia.”

The rock stood
like a gigantic rude finger-gesture pointing upward amidst the wide
mountainous terrain and Wagner banked the helicopter toward it,
making a deft landing, right on the top of the pinnacle. Lorna was,
by spine-rippling turns, terrified and thrilled. She had, all the
way, been oscillating between doubt and self-assurance in regard to
her reasons for being there—the exhilaration of the impromptu
touch-down more than made up for her feelings of guilt.

When they
finally dispersed from Kyabram that evening, Wagner declared that
he had to `return the crate to Sydney and did anyone want a ride?’
He had been looking at Andromeda Starlight, but she shook her
head.

“Gotta wake up
my man John and do the figuring.” the black woman smiled
regretfully.

At the same
time, Lorna had said `me’, but no one heard her except Chrissie who
stared at her with absolute betrayal, to which Lorna shrugged.
Chrissie looked away in a huff and Lorna returned her attention to
arrangements. There were plenty of rides available to get everyone
wherever they wanted to go so she sidled up to Wagner and breathed.
“I love helicopters.”

Wagner eyed her
with a wry smile—his warm handsome features softened by late
afternoon light. “Woulda asked you first, Lorna my sweet, but I
figured you mighta been spooked by helicopters, after your crash at
Ruapehu and all.”

“I don’t
remember anything about it,” Lorna breathed.

So it was
settled. Dr Felicity seemed to have taken Chrissie under her wing
and so, and with a final guilty glance in that direction, Lorna ran
hand-in-hand with Wagner to the helicopter.

They flew with
the sunset behind them and she babbled on about god knows what as
the mountains reared up beneath them. And then this rocky up thrust
that seemed an absurd metaphor for the occasion—she pointed it out
and declared `I want to go there’ and he laughed and obliged.

At the top of
the rock was an area about twenty metres square that seemed far
larger when they touched down than it had on the dare-devil
approach. To the west, a huge boulder jutted out over the precipice
and they walked to that, watching the orb of the sun drop toward
the distant line of deep purple peaks while the scattered cloud
glowed in blood red and mellow orange. The air carried only a
slight chill at this height but the rock was still warm beneath her
feet—she had removed her shoes beforehand. The rock soothed her as
she wiggled her toes upon it. They put arms around each other as
the mighty globe touched the first ridge.

“Isn’t this
wonderful?” she breathed.

And he kissed
her neck.

She hastened
out of her clothing and lay back on the rock, her flesh felt a
strange welcoming caress from the hard stone. He did not undress
but simply opened his fly—she did not, at first, realise the mess
of scars and grafts to be found on his flesh.