Connexion : The Atlantis Project, Book.1 (33 page)

“But it’s twice as far to Sector 49 as it is
to Sector 24 and we’re already hesitating to start that journey on
foot!” exclaimed Mario.

“How much time do we have?” asked Charlie. “I
mean, in terms of oxygen supply.”

“We’re not limited by that,” answered
Francisco. “The oxygen supply was only necessary while we were
going through the vapor and the entry chamber. Once we were in the
no-go zone, the ambient air filters took over.”

“Great! That’s good news for us. How long do
you think it would take us to walk that far, Francisco?”

“The sectors are along both sides of the
central road. Each sector is a rectangle, about five domes wide and
ten domes long. The longer side of the rectangle happens to be
along the roadside. To cross one sector, we would therefore need to
cover approximately ten times the ground surface area of these
half-spheres. Each half-sphere measures about fifty meters at its
highest point, which means that their diameter is close to one
hundred meters. That means, along the highway, each sector is about
1,300 meters long; that is, the length of ten domes with a diameter
of one hundred meters placed side by side, plus the width of each
driveway – about thirty meters. If we consider that we need to
cross forty-nine sectors, minus the four sectors already behind us,
divided by two: that makes a little under twenty-three sectors,
each 1,300 meters long. So we still have over twenty-nine, or more
like thirty, kilometers to walk along the highway. With these
suits, you seem to manage a walking speed of barely more than two
or three kilometers per hour according to my estimations, without
allowing for the breaks that we will inevitably need. In short, the
best case scenario is that we get there after walking for ten or
twelve hours, maybe more.”

“Perfect! It’s a lot, but I’m sure we’ll make
it!”

“
Aren’t you a little too optimistic,
Charlie? We’ve never walked that far before. I’m exhausted already,
so I can’t bear to imagine how we’ll feel after ten hours of
walking in these suffocating suits! Let’s go home. We can come back
another time. That would be better, believe me.”

Charlie could not answer him without their
conversation being overheard. He did realize, however, that he was
still behaving like the Charlie of the connection, who could move
at will, free of the burden of his physical body and several
intangible laws of physics. Here, to pass an obstacle he could not
simply go through it, just as to cover a long distance he could not
simply fly several meters above the ground. In short, he needed to
review his ambitions in the light of their physical limitations. In
that respect, Jacques had just faithfully filled his role in
bringing him back to Earth at the right moment. Yes, but there it
was! It was impossible for him to bring himself to abandon his
quest, as if something that transcended him was pushing him blindly
in that direction. Looking at his fellow team members he saw that
all eyes – except Francisco’s – were on him, and looking extremely
doubtful.

“But… that’s impossible, Charlie,” said
Mario, stunned by what he had just heard. “You and Jacques will
never make it that far. You’ve only just recovered, and personally,
I think Francisco was a little optimistic when he said you could
walk two or three kilometers an hour on average. If we take into
account the many breaks we’ll need so you can rest, it will surely
take us much longer than he said.”

“Mario is right,” added Giuseppe calmly. “We
should go home and come back in a few days with the necessary
equipment, even what we need to get from one sector to another.
Anyway, what point would there be in going to a sector that is
twice as far away as the one you’re trying to reach? It would
certainly be very interesting, but what purpose would it serve?
Couldn’t we just stick to your first objective for this time? That
already seems difficult enough to reach, don’t you think,
Charlie?”

“You’re right. I realize now that I have been
too optimistic. Francisco is right. Everything is locked down and
it would be futile to visit that sector without what we need to
complete the mission.”

“Exactly what mission, Charlie?”

But Charlie did not respond to Giuseppe’s new
question.

Everyone except Francisco and Clementine, who
said nothing, seemed to be against the idea of setting off for
Sector 49 immediately. Charlie hesitated for a moment then timidly
asked Clementine, who was standing slightly further away from the
group, “What about you, Clementine? What do you think?”

“It’s your decision, Charlie. I trust you.
Follow your intuition. If you feel up to it, let’s do it! Let’s not
waste our precious time on pointless discussion. We all have
survival kits in our packs. We won’t die of thirst or hunger, and
these suits are so thick, the cold shouldn’t be a problem.”

The surprise was tangible. Clementine,
usually so discreet, almost invisible, was letting a side to her
personality show that only Mario had begun to see recently. She
seemed ready and determined to follow Charlie to the end, although
they considered that he was purely and simply denying reality. Her
unwavering support gave Charlie the helping hand he needed to make
his decision. They would set off right away, whatever it cost
them.

As for Mario; he was gazing admiringly at
this little lady with such strong character. Recently, she had been
sharing his bed, to the great disappointment of Caterina, and he
was now congratulating himself on not giving in to her constant
pressure. Clementine had something she didn’t. There was an
indefinable quality about her that enabled her to make the right
choice at the right time. Unlike her rival, she knew how to keep
things simple and instinctive. She had a simplicity that did not
devalue her, but on the contrary, made her greater. He had never
noticed the slightest trace of jealousy or nastiness in her toward
anyone at all. He now knew that he loved her; and the reason why.
And so, although her choice was not at all rational (and even less
reasonable) he respected her too much to dissuade her from it.

“Very well, in that case, let’s go!” replied
Mario, taking the first step of many. He was actually anxious to
get started before Giuseppe could give his opinion.

Francisco would have no trouble following the
movement, obsessed by the idea of increasing his knowledge of the
N.H.I.’s and the functioning of the base as quickly as possible. He
could not stand waiting, either – he never could – just as he had
always had tremendous difficulty accepting his own errors of
judgment.

36 THE LONG TREK

They had now been walking slowly through the
middle of this surreal landscape with its metallic décor for eight
hours. In this strange world there was no movement, no crackling or
noise of any sort, except perhaps the soft sound of droplets of
condensation running down the cold metal of the domes. The light
itself was more of a pale, whitish glow; slightly phosphorescent,
with barely perceptible silvery pink tones. However, it lent a
visible pinkish tinge to the very thin layer of mist that rose all
day long like a ghostly veil suspended several dozen centimeters
above the ground. It was much too sparse to impede their vision or
conceal any obstacles in their path. But there it was, enveloping
their bodies, dispersing as they passed, to form little eddies that
drifted in evanescent spirals, before rejoining the pool of
perfectly static, inert molecules in this misty lake of a thousand
islands.

In their clammy suits, the moisture was
running too. Their foggy breath and hot, sticky, chafing sweat gave
off a strong odor that they could no longer smell; their
olfactories were so saturated with it, but it still made the air
enclosed in their suits progressively more suffocating. Their faces
were stern and focused. Not one of them thought to complain, and
they scarcely spoke to one another. Their minds were completely
absorbed by their physical exertion, a dreadfully slow and
monotonous effort which was both physically and mentally
exhausting. Of them all, it was probably Charlie who suffered the
most. He was still weakened by his invasive surgery, but his face
was set and determined. He would not give in to pain, and would
keep walking until the end of the trek, even if he had to drag his
brother to Sector 49.

Jacques was not complaining either. He did
not even try talking to his brother. His legs were carrying him, in
rhythmic strides, perfectly synchronized with Charlie’s. Sector
after sector, their steps became heavier and more painful until the
pain soon peaked at a level they resolutely put up with, despite
Mario’s repeated invitations to stop for a break which he
mistakenly thought would be salutary. They were right; after that
climax of pain and exhaustion, everything suddenly became much
easier and more bearable. The change came magically over their
bodies, which were battered by a superhuman effort totally
inappropriate to their physical condition. Their legs became
lighter, as did their whole bodies, which became completely supple
and free of pain. Optimism and euphoria even made a timid
appearance, making them feel like talking again, which obviously
was not the case for the others who merely continued their
laborious march. Was it magic? No, simply a massive surge of
endorphins, thought Charlie. He recognized the effects. His
synapses had received all kinds of chemical and hormonal cocktails
while his brain had been connected; opened up like a boiled egg and
joined to Victor’s brain by a biological neural probe. They were
simply drugs, which the brain produces in massive amounts when the
body reaches a critical level above which it must rise; drugs that
can save a life by pushing through the barriers of its mental and
physical limits; natural drugs which came at just the right moment,
and enabled them to keep going until they reached the Sector 49
less than two hours later.

37 THE NETWORK

Charlie finally opened one eye, squinting at
the pale light of a day which would never dawn. As he lay on the
hard, cold surface of the magnetic road, his head resting heavily
on the pack, used for a pillow, he noticed the layer of pink mist
that floated a few centimeters above his visor. For the first time,
he was observing it from underneath. From this perspective it
looked more like a mirror, reflecting the metallic tints of the
ground. It was taking form; materializing in a fresh way, becoming
almost tangible. He slowly opened his other eye, turning his head
slightly to widen his field of vision. That way he could better
appreciate the beauty of this vaporous veil that covered them all,
like a shroud delicately laid down in the midst of a battle field.
Not quite all of them…

Completely awake now, from where he lay, he
looked all around the area where they had decided to take a
well-earned nap. In the distance, a vertical silhouette pierced
through the mist, showing only the lower part of a body. It was
Francisco. The others were still sleeping, but not him. Had he only
slept for a few minutes, or had he waited until all the others fell
asleep to begin exploring the area on his own? Impatience had
probably gotten the better of the signals of fatigue his body had
been sending him. He did not really listen to his body, or not
enough; he was lured instead by the siren song of logic, constantly
tempting him with the promise of pure, hard rational thought which,
of all the range of possible emotions, only ever let anxiety filter
through. That anxiety was sometimes immense and devastating;
impossible to check when it emerged in the shape of an unexpected
obstacle to the logical course of his ideas. Something unforeseen;
a tenacious uncertainty, a fault in his reasoning, and Francisco
was suddenly only a shadow of himself. So how could he wait and
rest, when the opportunity to see up close what was surely one of
the keys to the mystery of this base, was right there, only a few
meters away?

The others were all resting as best they
could; lying uncomfortably on the road, only a few meters from what
they thought was the entrance to the network center. Meanwhile,
Francisco had overcome his tiredness to prepare the ground for
Charlie, whom he considered to be a true gift from heaven. He was
the one who knew; who would decipher and understand how the
N.H.I.’s technology worked.

“Jacques, are you awake?”

“
Huh? What’s wrong? Aren’t we
dead?”

“Stop it, will you! Wake up. We have work to
do and Francisco’s already at it, aren’t you, Francisco?” he asked,
knowing that he could hear him, as could Mario, Clementine and even
Giuseppe, whose snoring he could hear quite distinctly, broadcast
over the radio system integrated into their suits.

“Come and see, Charlie!” Francisco replied.
“I’ve found a touch screen; at least I think that’s what it
is.”

“Giuseppe doesn’t look like he’s going
anywhere,” joked Mario.

Mario and Clementine had just woken up, but
Giuseppe was still snoring loudly, completely oblivious to the
public meeting being broadcast directly into his ears. They got up
and helped the twins to their feet, not that they could not have
managed on their own, but the double suit they shared inhibited
them considerably, making the most ordinary movements, such as
getting out of a bed or a chair, even more complicated. Jacques and
Charlie both knew that, and rather than wriggling like worms
crossing wet concrete, they preferred to lie still, waiting until
someone could help them up.

In the end, it was Clementine who tried her
hand at waking the old man who, at that point, seemed to be
hibernating too. She knelt beside him to get down to his level and
gently shook his shoulder, speaking to him softly.

“Giuseppe! It’s time to wake up now. I think
Francisco has found something. You should come take a look.”