Cradle (42 page)

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Authors: Arthur C. Clarke and Gentry Lee

BOOK: Cradle
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For her part, Carol grew more and more convinced that the story Troy was telling was
true. His inability to answer all the questions did not disturb her; as a matter of
fact, given the rather fantastic nature of his story, if he had had pat answers to
all the questions, she would have felt less assured of its truth. Despite her critical
journalistic background, she found herself intrigued and a little enchanted by the
idea that some superaliens from another world needed her help.

Carol’s intuition was just as important as her rational thought processes in the formation
of her opinion. First of all, she trusted Troy. She watched him very carefully when
he answered the questions and did not see the slightest indication that he was lying.
She had no doubt that Troy believed he was telling the truth. But whether Troy was
indeed telling the truth, or was instead being manipulated and directed by the very
ETs that he was purporting to represent, was another issue altogether.
But for what purpose?
she reasoned.
There’s not much that the three of us can do for them. Even the information they requested,
except for the weapons stuff, is relatively innocuous
. She temporarily set aside the notion that her friend Troy had become some kind of
pawn for the aliens.

Carol could tell that Nick was growing more suspicious. Nick thought it was very peculiar
that there were three Navy divers in the water at the exactly correct location when
one of the carpets ushered Troy to the surface. And Troy’s report of the interrogation
process after they had flown him to Key West was so confused that Nick became exasperated
again.

‘Christ, Jefferson,’ he said, ‘you either have a very short or a very convenient memory.
You tell us that the Navy kept you in custody for almost an hour, yet you hardly remember
any of their questions and have no idea why they were interrogating you. That just
doesn’t sound right to me.’

Troy was becoming a little angry. ‘Shit, Nick, I told you that I was tired. I had
been through a traumatic experience. Their questions didn’t make sense to me. And
the entire time I felt as if a little voice was trying to make itself heard inside
my head.’

Nick turned to Carol. ‘I think I’m changing my mind. I don’t want to play in this
game, no matter how clever it is. Homer and Greta annoy me, but I can deal with them
if it’s necessary. On the other hand the Navy scares me. There was some reason why
they were following us. It’s just too damn unlikely to be a coincidence. Maybe Troy
knows something about it and maybe he doesn’t. I can’t tell. But I don’t like the
smell of it.’

He stood up to leave. Carol motioned for Nick to sit down and took a deep breath.
‘Look, you two,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I have a confession to make. And it seems
as if this is the perfect time to make it. I did not come down here to Key West to
look for whales.’ She glanced at Nick. ‘And not for treasure either. I came here to
check out a rumour that a new Navy missile had gone astray and crashed in the Gulf
of Mexico.’ She paused several seconds to let her message register. ‘I probably should
have told you earlier. But I never found the right time. I’m truly sorry.’

‘And you thought the missile was in the fissure,’ said Troy a few seconds later. ‘Which
was why you came back yesterday.’

‘We were going to salvage it for you and give you a worldwide scoop,’ added Nick,
his feelings of betrayal softened somewhat by the obvious sincerity of her apology.
‘You were using us all the time.’

‘You could call it that,’ Carol conceded, ‘but as a reporter, I don’t see it that
way.’ She noticed the tension in the room. Nick seemed especially guarded. ‘But now
it doesn’t matter anyway,’ she continued. ‘What is important is that I have given
an explanation for the Navy’s presence at the dive site. During the last two days
I have made several inquiries at all levels about the clandestine activities that
the Navy currently has underway to search for the missile. Last night that Mexican
lieutenant got a good look at our best close-ups of the missile in the fissure. Undoubtedly
someone put two and two together.’

‘Look, angel,’ Troy spoke after another short silence, ‘I don’t know anything about
a missile. And too much is going on for me to be hurt because you lied to me. I’m
sure you had your reasons. What I need to know now is whether or not you will help
me take this stuff back to the ETs or aliens or whatever you want to call them.’

Before Carol could answer, Nick stood up again and started walking toward the door.
‘I’m very hungry,’ he announced, ‘and I want to think through this entire situation.
If you don’t mind, Troy, I’ll have an early supper and meet you later on tonight with
my answer.’

Carol realized that she also was extremely hungry. It had been a long, exhausting
day and she had not eaten anything significant since breakfast. She was also a little
concerned about Nick’s response to her confession. ‘Why don’t I join you for a bite?’
she said to Nick. He gave a noncommittal shrug, as if to say suit yourself. Carol
gave Troy a hug. ‘Let’s all meet at my room in the Marriott around seven-thirty. I
have to go there anyway to dress for my interview with the triple creeps. You guys
can give me some pointers.’

Her humour did not lighten the atmosphere in the room. Troy was clearly worried about
something. His face was very earnest, almost stern. ‘Professor,’ he said to Nick in
a soft and deliberate monotone, ‘I know I didn’t have all the answers to your questions.
I don’t even have the answers to my own. But I do know one thing for certain. Nothing
like this has ever happened on Earth before. At least not in recorded history. The
creatures who built that spaceship are, when compared to us, as we would appear to
the ants or the bees if they could comprehend us. They have asked the three of us
for help in repairing their vehicle. To say that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity
would be a colossal understatement.

‘It would be great if we could sit around and debate this issue for weeks or even
months. But we can’t. Time is running out. The Navy is certain to find them soon,
maybe they have already, with possibly dire consequences for the human beings on this
planet.
They
have made it clear to me that their mission must be fulfilled, that they must repair
their vehicle and continue their voyage,
even if
they must interfere with the Earth system to achieve their goal.

‘I know all this sounds incredible, maybe even absurd. But I am going to collect some
lead weights from my diver friends and pick up the compact discs at the library. With
or without your help, I want to be over their spaceship at dawn tomorrow.’

Nick studied Troy very carefully during this speech. For an instant in the middle,
it seemed as if it was not Troy speaking at all, but someone or something else speaking
through him. An eerie chill raced down Nick’s spine.
Shit
, he thought.
I’m as bad as they are. I’m now caught up in this thing too
. He gestured to Carol to follow him and walked out of the door.

7

‘As I have told you twice before,’ the voice sounded tired and bored, ‘I was out diving
with my friends, Nick Williams and Carol Dawson. She had a problem with her equipment
and decided to make a quick return to the boat. We had found a particularly interesting
reef, with some very unusual features, and we weren’t certain we would be able to
locate it again. So I decided to stay and wait for her to come back. When I finally
surfaced half an hour later, there was no sign of them or the boat.’

The recorder clicked off. The two lieutenants stared at each other. ‘Shit, Ramirez,
do you believe that bastard’s story? Any part of it?’ The other man shook his head.
‘Then why the hell did you let him go? That black shitass sat there for an hour, making
fools out of us with ridiculous answers to our questions, and then you summarily released
him.’

‘We can’t detain someone without positive evidence of wrongdoing,’ responded Ramirez,
as if he were quoting from a military manual. ‘And swimming in the ocean ten miles
from the nearest island, although strange, does not constitute wrongdoing.’ Ramirez
could see that his colleague was scowling. ‘Besides, he never slipped up. He always
told exactly the same story.’

‘The same bullshit, you mean.’ Lieutenant Richard Todd leaned back in his chair. The
two men were sitting around a small conference table in an old room with white plaster
walls. The tape recorder was on the table in front of them next to an empty ashtray.

He
didn’t even believe his own story. He just sat there, that cocky grin on his black
face, knowing that we couldn’t charge him with anything.’ Todd put all four of his
chair legs back on the floor and pounded the table for emphasis. ‘An experienced diver
would never stay down by himself for five minutes, much less thirty. Too many things
could go wrong. As for his friends, why the hell did they leave him?’ Now Todd stood
up and made gestures in the air with his hands. ‘I’ll tell you why, Lieutenant. Because
they knew he was all right, that he had been picked up by a Russian submarine. Shit,
I told you we should have taken one of the new vessels. We probably could have spotted
the sub with the upgraded electronic gear.’

Ramirez was playing idly with the glass ashtray while Todd was giving his lecture.
‘You really believe that those three are involved with the Russians in this, don’t
you? It sure seems farfetched to me.’

‘Fucking A,’ replied Todd. ‘Nothing else makes even a little sense. Every engineer
we have talked to says there are no conceivable failures that are consistent both
with the observed behaviour of the missile and the telemetry we received at our tracking
stations. So the Russians must have commanded it off course.’

Todd grew excited as he explained the rest of the plot. ‘The Russians knew they would
need some local help to find the exact location of the missile in the ocean, so they
hired Williams and crew to search for the bird and then tell them where it was. They
planned to pick it up with one of their subs. Adding that Dawson woman to their team
was a master stroke; her inquiries have slowed down our own search by making us more
concerned about the press.’

Lieutenant Ramirez laughed. ‘You always sound convincing, Richard. But we still do
not have even one shred of evidence. I don’t believe Troy Jefferson’s story any more
than you do, but there could be many reasons why he lied, only one of which is any
of our business. Besides, there still is a fundamental problem with your explanation.
Why would the Russians go to all this trouble just to seize a Panther missile?’

‘You and I and even Commander Winters may not know the true story of the Panther missile,’
Todd countered quickly. ‘It may be designed to carry some new breakthrough weapon
that we haven’t even heard about. It’s not all that unusual for the Navy to represent
a project falsely and to keep its true purpose hidden.’ He stopped to think. ‘But
what’s motivating the Russians is not that important to us. We have evidence of a
conspiracy here. Our job is to stop it.’

Ramirez did not reply right away. He continued to push the ashtray around on the table.
‘I guess I no longer view it that way,’ he said at length, gazing directly at Todd.
‘I see no substantial evidence of any conspiracy. Unless Commander Winters himself
orders additional work from my department, I am abandoning my investigation.’ He looked
at his watch. ‘At least I can still spend Saturday night and Sunday with my family.’
He rose to leave.

‘And what if I bring you proof?’ Todd asked, making no effort to hide his disgust
with Ramirez.

‘Proof will convince Winters as well,’ Ramirez answered coldly. ‘I have taken enough
risk on this project. I will not take any more action unless instructed by the proper
authority.’

Winters wasn’t really certain he would find something appropriate. Ordinarily, he
carefully avoided shopping malls, especially on a Saturday afternoon. But while he
had been lying on the couch, watching one of the NCAA basketball games and sipping
a beer, he had remembered how pleased he had been when Helen Turnbull, who had played
Maggie, had given him a set of unusual tile coasters after the opening weekend of
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
. ‘It’s a fading tradition in the theatre, I fear,’ the experienced actress had said
when he thanked her, ‘but giving small presents after the opening night or nights
is still my way of congratulating those people I have enjoyed working with.’

The mall was crowded with Saturday shoppers and Commander Winters felt oddly conspicuous,
as if everyone were looking at him. He walked around for several minutes before he
even thought about what kind of gift he might get for her.
Something simple of course
, he thought.
Nothing that could be misinterpreted. Just a nice memento or souvenir
. He saw Tiffani in his mind’s eye as she had appeared in his fantasy just before
he had fallen asleep the night before. The image embarrassed him in the shopping crowd
and he nervously called up another picture, this one wholesome and acceptable, of
the little girl Tiffani during his conversation with her father.
Her hair
, he thought, remembering the pigtails.
I’ll buy her something for her hair
.

He walked into a gift shop and tried to make some sense out of the jumble of bric-a-brac
that lined the walls and was assembled on top of an assortment of tables in no identifiable
pattern. ‘Can I help you?’ Winters jumped when a salesgirl approached him from behind.
He shook his head.
Now why did you do that?
he said to himself.
Of course you need help. Otherwise you’ll never find anything
.

‘Excuse me, young lady,’ he almost shouted at the retreating salesgirl, ‘I guess I
could use some advice. I want to buy a present.’ Winters again felt as if everyone
were watching him. ‘For my niece,’ he added quickly.

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