Authors: Robin Cook
Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Onbekend, #Unabridged Audio - Fiction, #Suspense & Thriller
Abduction (25 page)
"It looks like my apartment in Ocean Beach," Michael said.
"Get outta here!" Richard scoffed while he playfully cuffed him on the top of his head. "Are all Interterran homes open to the exterior?" Perry questioned. "Indeed," Arak said. "As ironic as it may seem we who dwell inside the earth prefer to be outdoors." "Makes it kind of hard to lock up," Richard said. "Nothing is locked in Interterra," Sufa said. "Nobody steals anything?" Michael questioned. Both Arak and Sufa giggled. They then self-consciously excused themselves. "We don't mean to laugh," Arak said. "But you people are so entertaining. We can never anticipate what you are going to say. It's very endearing." "I suppose it's our charming primitiveness," Donald said. "Exactly," Arak agreed.
"There's no thievery in Interterra," Sufa said. "There is no need because there is plenty for everyone. Besides, no one owns anything. Private ownership disappeared early in our history. We Interterrans merely use what we need."
The group sat down. Sufa called for worker clones, who appeared instantly. Along with them came one of the pets the secondary humans had seen from the air taxis. Up close it was even more bizarre looking, with its curious mixture of dog, cat, and monkey traits. The animal loped into the room and made a beeline for the visitors.
"Sark!" Arak bellowed. "Behave!"
The animal obediently stopped in its tracks and, using catlike eyes, it regarded the secondary humans with great curiosity. When it stood up on its hind feet, which were monkeylike with five distinct toes, it was about three feet tall. Its doglike nose twitched as it sniffed. "This is one weird-looking animal," Richard said. "It's a homid," Sufa said. "A particularly fine homid, actually. Isn't he adorable?" "Get over here, Sark!" Arak cried. "I don't want you bothering our guests." Sark immediately darted behind Arak and, standing on its hind legs, began scratching Arak's head. "Good boy," Arak said contentedly.
"Food for the guests," Sufa commanded the worker clones, who quickly disappeared. "Sark looks like a bunch of animals rolled into one," Michael said.
"Get outta here!" Richard scoffed while he playfully cuffed him on the top of his head. "Are all Interterran homes open to the exterior?" Perry questioned. "Indeed," Arak said. "As ironic as it may seem we who dwell inside the earth prefer to be outdoors." "Makes it kind of hard to lock up," Richard said. "Nothing is locked in Interterra," Sufa said. "Nobody steals anything?" Michael questioned. Both Arak and Sufa giggled. They then self-consciously excused themselves. "We don't mean to laugh," Arak said. "But you people are so entertaining. We can never anticipate what you are going to say. It's very endearing." "I suppose it's our charming primitiveness," Donald said. "Exactly," Arak agreed.
"There's no thievery in Interterra," Sufa said. "There is no need because there is plenty for everyone. Besides, no one owns anything. Private ownership disappeared early in our history. We Interterrans merely use what we need."
The group sat down. Sufa called for worker clones, who appeared instantly. Along with them came one of the pets the secondary humans had seen from the air taxis. Up close it was even more bizarre looking, with its curious mixture of dog, cat, and monkey traits. The animal loped into the room and made a beeline for the visitors.
"Sark!" Arak bellowed. "Behave!"
The animal obediently stopped in its tracks and, using catlike eyes, it regarded the secondary humans with great curiosity. When it stood up on its hind feet, which were monkeylike with five distinct toes, it was about three feet tall. Its doglike nose twitched as it sniffed. "This is one weird-looking animal," Richard said. "It's a homid," Sufa said. "A particularly fine homid, actually. Isn't he adorable?" "Get over here, Sark!" Arak cried. "I don't want you bothering our guests." Sark immediately darted behind Arak and, standing on its hind legs, began scratching Arak's head. "Good boy," Arak said contentedly.
"Food for the guests," Sufa commanded the worker clones, who quickly disappeared. "Sark looks like a bunch of animals rolled into one," Michael said.
"That's one way to put it," Arak said. "Sark is a chimera developed eons ago and cloned ever since.
He's a remarkable pet. Would anyone care to see one of his best tricks?" "Sure," Richard said. To him the animal looked like a biology experiment that went haywire. "Me, too," Michael echoed.
Arak stood and motioned for Sark to head outside. As he followed the animal he asked Richard and Michael to join him out in the yard. The divers dutifully got up and trooped into the garden, where they found Arak busily searching for something in the depths of a fern thicket. "Okay, here's one," Arak said. He straightened up, clutching a short, rubberized stick in his hand. He stepped out onto the grass. "Now you men are not going to believe this. It's very entertaining." "Try us!" Richard said dubiously.
Arak bent down and extended the stick to Sark. Sark took the stick with great excitement, chattering like a monkey. Then after a windup he threw the stick to the far corner of the yard. Arak watched the piece of wood until it came to a complete halt. Then he turned back to the divers. "Quite a throw, wouldn't you say?"
"Not bad," Michael agreed. "At least for a homid." The corners of Richard's mouth curled into a wry smile. "Wait until you see the rest," Arak said. "Just a second." Arak ran out to where the stick had fallen, picked it up, and carried it back. He then returned it to Sark. The animal wound up and threw the stick back to approximately the same spot. Dutifully Arak trotted out and retrieved it for the second time. When he returned he was slightly out of breath. "Can you believe it?" he asked. "This cute little devil will keep this up all day. As long as I get the stick, he'll throw it." The two divers looked at each other. Michael rolled his eyes while Richard swallowed a laugh. "The food is here!" Sufa called from inside. Arak extended the stick toward Richard. "Would you like to give it a try?" "I think I'll pass," Richard said. "Besides, I'm starved." "Then let's eat," Arak said agreeably. He tossed the stick back into the fern thicket and headed back inside. Sark followed.
"This place is getting weirder by the minute," Richard mumbled to Michael as they skirted the pool. "You can say that again," Michael said. "No wonder they didn't care when I took the gold goblets last night. Nothing belongs to nobody. I'm telling you, we could make a fortune down here, and they wouldn't care."
Along with food, the worker clones had brought a folding table, which they'd placed in the center of a
He's a remarkable pet. Would anyone care to see one of his best tricks?" "Sure," Richard said. To him the animal looked like a biology experiment that went haywire. "Me, too," Michael echoed.
Arak stood and motioned for Sark to head outside. As he followed the animal he asked Richard and Michael to join him out in the yard. The divers dutifully got up and trooped into the garden, where they found Arak busily searching for something in the depths of a fern thicket. "Okay, here's one," Arak said. He straightened up, clutching a short, rubberized stick in his hand. He stepped out onto the grass. "Now you men are not going to believe this. It's very entertaining." "Try us!" Richard said dubiously.
Arak bent down and extended the stick to Sark. Sark took the stick with great excitement, chattering like a monkey. Then after a windup he threw the stick to the far corner of the yard. Arak watched the piece of wood until it came to a complete halt. Then he turned back to the divers. "Quite a throw, wouldn't you say?"
"Not bad," Michael agreed. "At least for a homid." The corners of Richard's mouth curled into a wry smile. "Wait until you see the rest," Arak said. "Just a second." Arak ran out to where the stick had fallen, picked it up, and carried it back. He then returned it to Sark. The animal wound up and threw the stick back to approximately the same spot. Dutifully Arak trotted out and retrieved it for the second time. When he returned he was slightly out of breath. "Can you believe it?" he asked. "This cute little devil will keep this up all day. As long as I get the stick, he'll throw it." The two divers looked at each other. Michael rolled his eyes while Richard swallowed a laugh. "The food is here!" Sufa called from inside. Arak extended the stick toward Richard. "Would you like to give it a try?" "I think I'll pass," Richard said. "Besides, I'm starved." "Then let's eat," Arak said agreeably. He tossed the stick back into the fern thicket and headed back inside. Sark followed.
"This place is getting weirder by the minute," Richard mumbled to Michael as they skirted the pool. "You can say that again," Michael said. "No wonder they didn't care when I took the gold goblets last night. Nothing belongs to nobody. I'm telling you, we could make a fortune down here, and they wouldn't care."
Along with food, the worker clones had brought a folding table, which they'd placed in the center of a
ring of seven contour chairs. Arak and the divers joined the others. Sark climbed the back of Arak's
chair and began scratching behind his ears. Everyone helped themselves to the food and started eating. "Well, here's where we spend most of our time," Arak said after a short awkward silence. He sensed the secondary humans were a bit confounded by the day's events. "Does anyone have any questions for us?"
"What do you do here?" Suzanne asked to make conversation. She was happier to stick to small talk rather than tackle the larger issues swimming in her head. "We enjoy our bodies and our minds," Arak explained. "We read a lot and watch a lot of holographic entertainment."
"Don't people work in Interterra?" Perry asked. "Some people do," Arak said. "But it is not necessary, and those who do, only do what they want to do. All menial work, which most work is, is done by worker clones. All monitory and regulatory work is done by Central Information. Thus, people are free to pursue their own interests." "Don't the worker clones mind?" Donald asked. "Don't they ever strike or revolt?" "Heavens, no," Arak said with a smile. "Clones are like . . . well, like your domestic pets. They were made to look like humans for esthetic reasons, but their brains are much smaller. They have limited forebrain function so their needs and interests are different. They love to work and serve." "Sounds like exploitation," Perry said. "I suppose," Arak said. "But that is what machines are for, like automobiles in your culture, which I don't believe you feel you exploit. The analogy would be better if your automobiles had living parts as well as machine parts. I'm sure you have to use your cars or they'd deteriorate. Same with worker clones, only it's leisure they cannot tolerate. They become despondent and regress without work and direction."
"It is uncomfortable for us," Suzanne said. "Since they appear so human." "You have to remind yourself that they are not," Sufa said. "Are there different types of clones?" Perry asked. "They all look essentially the same," Arak said. "But there are servant, worker, and entertainment clones, male and female. It's in the programming." "With your technology, why not use robots?" Donald asked. "A good question," Arak said. "We had androids ages ago; a whole line of them, in fact. But pure machines tend to break down and have to be fixed. We had to have androids to fix androids ad infinitum. It was inconvenient, even ridiculous. It wasn't until we learned to wed the biological with the mechanical that we solved the problem. The ultimate result of this research and development was worker clones, and they are far superior to any android. They take care of themselves completely, even to the point of repairing themselves and reproducing to keep their population in a steady state."
chair and began scratching behind his ears. Everyone helped themselves to the food and started eating. "Well, here's where we spend most of our time," Arak said after a short awkward silence. He sensed the secondary humans were a bit confounded by the day's events. "Does anyone have any questions for us?"
"What do you do here?" Suzanne asked to make conversation. She was happier to stick to small talk rather than tackle the larger issues swimming in her head. "We enjoy our bodies and our minds," Arak explained. "We read a lot and watch a lot of holographic entertainment."
"Don't people work in Interterra?" Perry asked. "Some people do," Arak said. "But it is not necessary, and those who do, only do what they want to do. All menial work, which most work is, is done by worker clones. All monitory and regulatory work is done by Central Information. Thus, people are free to pursue their own interests." "Don't the worker clones mind?" Donald asked. "Don't they ever strike or revolt?" "Heavens, no," Arak said with a smile. "Clones are like . . . well, like your domestic pets. They were made to look like humans for esthetic reasons, but their brains are much smaller. They have limited forebrain function so their needs and interests are different. They love to work and serve." "Sounds like exploitation," Perry said. "I suppose," Arak said. "But that is what machines are for, like automobiles in your culture, which I don't believe you feel you exploit. The analogy would be better if your automobiles had living parts as well as machine parts. I'm sure you have to use your cars or they'd deteriorate. Same with worker clones, only it's leisure they cannot tolerate. They become despondent and regress without work and direction."
"It is uncomfortable for us," Suzanne said. "Since they appear so human." "You have to remind yourself that they are not," Sufa said. "Are there different types of clones?" Perry asked. "They all look essentially the same," Arak said. "But there are servant, worker, and entertainment clones, male and female. It's in the programming." "With your technology, why not use robots?" Donald asked. "A good question," Arak said. "We had androids ages ago; a whole line of them, in fact. But pure machines tend to break down and have to be fixed. We had to have androids to fix androids ad infinitum. It was inconvenient, even ridiculous. It wasn't until we learned to wed the biological with the mechanical that we solved the problem. The ultimate result of this research and development was worker clones, and they are far superior to any android. They take care of themselves completely, even to the point of repairing themselves and reproducing to keep their population in a steady state."
"Amazing," Perry said simply. Suzanne nodded.
The group fell silent. When they were through with their food Sufa said, "I think perhaps it's time to take you all back to your quarters at the visitors' palace. You need some time to process what you've seen and heard. Also, we don't want to overburden you on your first day. There is always tomorrow." She smiled benignly as she stood up.
"You're right about needing some time," Suzanne said, getting to her feet as well. "I think I've been a bit overburdened already. Without an ounce of doubt, this has been the most startling, staggering, and stunning day of my life."
The group fell silent. When they were through with their food Sufa said, "I think perhaps it's time to take you all back to your quarters at the visitors' palace. You need some time to process what you've seen and heard. Also, we don't want to overburden you on your first day. There is always tomorrow." She smiled benignly as she stood up.
"You're right about needing some time," Suzanne said, getting to her feet as well. "I think I've been a bit overburdened already. Without an ounce of doubt, this has been the most startling, staggering, and stunning day of my life."
Michael hesitated at the door to his cottage. Richard was standing directly behind him. They just had been dropped off by Arak and Sufa.
"What do you think we're going to find?" Michael asked. "For chrissake!" Richard complained. "How am I supposed to know until you open the goddamn door?"
Michael grasped the handle and pulled. The two divers stepped over the threshold and glanced around the room.
"Do you think anybody was here?" Michael questioned nervously. Richard rolled his eyes. "What do think, birdbrain?" he said. "The bed's made and the place has been picked up. Look, somebody even stacked all the dishes and the goblets you lugged back from the gala and the dining hall."
"Maybe it was just the clones," Michael said. "It's possible," Richard said.
"Do you think the body is still there where we put it?" "Well, we sure as shootin' ain't going to know until we look," Richard said. "All right, I'll see."
"Hold on!" Richard said, grabbing Michael's arm. "Let me make sure the coast is clear." Richard looked around beyond the pool and was quickly satisfied. No one was near, and he rejoined his buddy. "Okay, check the body."
Michael hastily positioned himself in front of the cabinets opposite the bed. "Drinks, please!" he commanded. The refrigerator door swung open. It was crammed full of various containers of beverage and food.
"It looks like the way we left it," Michael said.
"That's encouraging," Richard said.
Michael bent down and removed several containers exposing Sart's pale face. The lifeless eyes stared back at Michael accusingly. Michael quickly jammed the containers back to hide the horrid image. Sart's was the first dead body Michael had seen other than his grandfather's corpse. But his grandfather had been laid out in a casket in a tuxedo. Besides, the old man had been ninety-four. "Well, that's a relief," Richard said.
"For now," Michael said. "But it doesn't mean they might not find him tonight or tomorrow. Maybe we should take him out and bury him in one of those clumps of fern." "What are we going to dig with, teaspoons?" Richard asked. "Then maybe we should carry him over to your cottage and put him in your refrigerator. It gives me the creeps having him here."
"We're not going to take the chance carrying him around," Richard said. "He stays where he is." "Then let's swap rooms," Michael suggested. "Remember, you killed him, not me." Richard's eyes narrowed threateningly. "We already had this conversation," he said slowly. "And it was decided: we're in this together. Now shut the hell up about the body." "What about telling Fuller?" Michael said. "Nah," Richard said. "I changed my mind about that." "How come?"
"Because that straight arrow nerd's not going to have any better idea of what to do with the body. And I don't think we have to be so worried. Hell, nobody has even asked about the twerp all day today. Besides, Arak said they don't have any prisons." "That's because they don't have any thievery," Michael snapped. "Arak didn't say anything about murder, and with all that stuff they showed us about mind extraction, I have a bad feeling they'll be pretty upset about it. We might get ourselves recycled, like Reesta." "Hey, calm down!" Richard said.
"How can I calm down with a dead body in my refrigerator?" Michael yelled. "Shut the hell up," Richard yelled back. Then in a lower voice he added, "Jeez, everybody in the neighborhood is going to hear you. Get control of yourself. The main thing is to get our asses out of here ASAP. Meanwhile Sart's in the cooler, which is going to keep him from stinking up the joint. We'll think about moving him if someone starts nosing around and asking about him. Okay?" "I suppose," Michael said but without much enthusiasm. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Michael bent down and removed several containers exposing Sart's pale face. The lifeless eyes stared back at Michael accusingly. Michael quickly jammed the containers back to hide the horrid image. Sart's was the first dead body Michael had seen other than his grandfather's corpse. But his grandfather had been laid out in a casket in a tuxedo. Besides, the old man had been ninety-four. "Well, that's a relief," Richard said.
"For now," Michael said. "But it doesn't mean they might not find him tonight or tomorrow. Maybe we should take him out and bury him in one of those clumps of fern." "What are we going to dig with, teaspoons?" Richard asked. "Then maybe we should carry him over to your cottage and put him in your refrigerator. It gives me the creeps having him here."
"We're not going to take the chance carrying him around," Richard said. "He stays where he is." "Then let's swap rooms," Michael suggested. "Remember, you killed him, not me." Richard's eyes narrowed threateningly. "We already had this conversation," he said slowly. "And it was decided: we're in this together. Now shut the hell up about the body." "What about telling Fuller?" Michael said. "Nah," Richard said. "I changed my mind about that." "How come?"
"Because that straight arrow nerd's not going to have any better idea of what to do with the body. And I don't think we have to be so worried. Hell, nobody has even asked about the twerp all day today. Besides, Arak said they don't have any prisons." "That's because they don't have any thievery," Michael snapped. "Arak didn't say anything about murder, and with all that stuff they showed us about mind extraction, I have a bad feeling they'll be pretty upset about it. We might get ourselves recycled, like Reesta." "Hey, calm down!" Richard said.
"How can I calm down with a dead body in my refrigerator?" Michael yelled. "Shut the hell up," Richard yelled back. Then in a lower voice he added, "Jeez, everybody in the neighborhood is going to hear you. Get control of yourself. The main thing is to get our asses out of here ASAP. Meanwhile Sart's in the cooler, which is going to keep him from stinking up the joint. We'll think about moving him if someone starts nosing around and asking about him. Okay?" "I suppose," Michael said but without much enthusiasm. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The ceiling of the subterranean cavern darkened gradually, mimicking a normal evening just as it had the
previous night. Suzanne and Perry, marveling how much the vaulted roof looked like sky, watched in awe as the pseudo stars began to blink on in the purple twilight. The ever glum Donald in contrast was staring morosely at the darkening shadows beneath the fern thickets. All three were standing on the lawn about forty feet away from the open end of the dining room. Inside, worker clones were busily laying out the dinner. Richard and Michael were already in their chairs eager for food. "This is absolutely amazing," Suzanne said. She was craning her neck to look straight up. "The bioluminescent stars?" Perry questioned. "Everything," Suzanne said. "Including the stars." She'd just joined the others from her quarters, where she'd taken a swim, bathed, and had even tried to take a nap. But sleep had been impossible. She had too much on her mind.
"There are some astounding aspects," Donald admitted. "I can't think of anything that's not," Suzanne said. She looked across the lawn at the dark hall of the pavilion where the gala had been held the previous evening. "Starting with the fact that this spacious paradise is buried in the earth under the ocean. How strange that I mentioned Jules Vernes's
Voyage to
the Center of the Earth
back when we were starting our dive, since now we're actually here."
Perry chuckled. "Pretty apropos."
"Apropos and mind-boggling," Suzanne added. "Especially now that it appears everything Arak and Sufa have been telling us is true, no matter how fantastic it all seems." "It is hard to deny the technology we're seeing," Perry said animatedly. "I can hardly wait to learn more of the details--like the biomechanics of the worker clones or the secrets of the air taxis. Patents on any of this could make us all billionaires. And what about tourism? Can you imagine what the demand for coming down here will be? It's going to be off the charts." Perry chuckled again. "One way or the other, Benthic Marine is going to become the Microsoft of the new century." "Arak's revelations are extraordinary," Donald agreed grudgingly. "But there are a couple of important gaps that you bedazzled people seem to be forgetting." "What are you talking about?" Perry questioned. "Take off the rose-colored glasses," Donald said. "As far as I'm concerned, the overarching question hasn't even come up: What are we doing here? We weren't saved from drowning from a wrecked schooner like the Blacks. We were purposefully and deliberately sucked into their so-called exit port, and I'd like to know why."
"Donald's right," Suzanne said, suddenly thoughtful. "In the excitement, I keep forgetting we are, after all, victims of an abduction. That certainly does beg the question of what we are doing here." "They are certainly treating us well," Perry said. "For the moment," Donald said. "But as I said before it could change in the blink of an eye. I don't think you people realize how vulnerable we are."
previous night. Suzanne and Perry, marveling how much the vaulted roof looked like sky, watched in awe as the pseudo stars began to blink on in the purple twilight. The ever glum Donald in contrast was staring morosely at the darkening shadows beneath the fern thickets. All three were standing on the lawn about forty feet away from the open end of the dining room. Inside, worker clones were busily laying out the dinner. Richard and Michael were already in their chairs eager for food. "This is absolutely amazing," Suzanne said. She was craning her neck to look straight up. "The bioluminescent stars?" Perry questioned. "Everything," Suzanne said. "Including the stars." She'd just joined the others from her quarters, where she'd taken a swim, bathed, and had even tried to take a nap. But sleep had been impossible. She had too much on her mind.
"There are some astounding aspects," Donald admitted. "I can't think of anything that's not," Suzanne said. She looked across the lawn at the dark hall of the pavilion where the gala had been held the previous evening. "Starting with the fact that this spacious paradise is buried in the earth under the ocean. How strange that I mentioned Jules Vernes's
Voyage to
the Center of the Earth
back when we were starting our dive, since now we're actually here."
Perry chuckled. "Pretty apropos."
"Apropos and mind-boggling," Suzanne added. "Especially now that it appears everything Arak and Sufa have been telling us is true, no matter how fantastic it all seems." "It is hard to deny the technology we're seeing," Perry said animatedly. "I can hardly wait to learn more of the details--like the biomechanics of the worker clones or the secrets of the air taxis. Patents on any of this could make us all billionaires. And what about tourism? Can you imagine what the demand for coming down here will be? It's going to be off the charts." Perry chuckled again. "One way or the other, Benthic Marine is going to become the Microsoft of the new century." "Arak's revelations are extraordinary," Donald agreed grudgingly. "But there are a couple of important gaps that you bedazzled people seem to be forgetting." "What are you talking about?" Perry questioned. "Take off the rose-colored glasses," Donald said. "As far as I'm concerned, the overarching question hasn't even come up: What are we doing here? We weren't saved from drowning from a wrecked schooner like the Blacks. We were purposefully and deliberately sucked into their so-called exit port, and I'd like to know why."
"Donald's right," Suzanne said, suddenly thoughtful. "In the excitement, I keep forgetting we are, after all, victims of an abduction. That certainly does beg the question of what we are doing here." "They are certainly treating us well," Perry said. "For the moment," Donald said. "But as I said before it could change in the blink of an eye. I don't think you people realize how vulnerable we are."
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