THE FOREVER GENE (THE SCIONS OF EARTH Book 1) (16 page)

"It actually makes some sense, you know.  The ambassador has commented on the destructive power of our weaponry and I am sure that he does not want us to take it into space with us when we begin using the star drive.  What better way is there to prevent this than by destroying it all?"

David was not convinced.  "It won't work unless they destroy our capacity to make weapons too.  Otherwise we will simply make new ones.  It would be more effective for them to just destroy us."

She laughed.  "You sound like one of those DOPE looneys."

"Dope?"

"Defenders of Planet Earth; surely you have heard of them?  They hang out at the common, handing out pamphlets.  Groups of them have been springing up all over the country."

He recalled his encounter with the bearded young protester.  "Oh yes, they think that the ambassador is preparing the way for an invasion fleet.  There is no logic to that idea either.  With their cloaking technology, a Faerie Folk invasion fleet could approach Earth and attack without warning.  Why would it be necessary to go to all this effort to win our trust and approval?"

"To get as much information as they can first."

"It still doesn't make sense.  How would they know that they have all the information they need?  They might return home and find that what they have found on Earth is genuinely useful.  If they destroy the planet, they won't be able to come back and learn more."

She pulled a face at him.  "So, what are you worried about?"

"I'm not worried," he said, unable to stop himself from smiling at her antics.  "It just seems very strange."

"That's not surprising, they are from outer space, you know."

After giving her time to rest at the hotel, he took her to the new Factory.

"That colour is beautiful," she said enthusiastically after stepping out of the taxi-cab.  "I hope you are not going to paint over it?"

"It can't be painted.  It would prevent the hard-water from absorbing solar energy.  Everything inside the building is powered by the energy stored in the walls and roof."

They stood in the warm sunshine for a few minutes, watching the landscaping contractors planting grass and young trees.

"What do you think the Faerie Folk are planning to give us?"

"I haven't a clue."  He told her Armando's theory and they both laughed.

"It is actually more likely than it sounds," he said, gesturing at the building in front of them.  "They have already shown us how to turn water into stone.  How much more difficult can it be to turn stone into gold?"

She scanned the ground and bent down to pick up a loose pebble.  "For you, darling," she said mischievously.  "It will be at least eighteen carats."

He took the proffered gift.  "I will treasure it," he said solemnly, "just as soon as the Faerie Folk turn it into gold."

Giggling immaturely, they went inside to find some cold drinks.

David kept the little stone.

A week later he discovered that Argentines really know how to throw a party.  He had planned an elegant cocktail function, catering for seventy people.  Pris sent invitations to the local politicians and government officials who had supported, and in some cases hindered, the project.  Some of the more important contractors were included to make up the numbers.  They were invited to arrive at seven-thirty and were expected to leave by ten.

They had intended to invite the Faerie Folk analysts too but, by the day of the party, they had completed their work and left the city.

At the appointed time, David and Pris discovered that, in Argentina, invitations are superfluous.  Anyone who had been involved in the project in any capacity, no matter how small, simply arrived, generally accompanied by spouses, friends and family.  Adding to the chaos, assorted residents of the neighbourhood simply assumed that they were welcome to join in. At the height of the festivities, which peaked at about one in the morning, David estimated that there were three hundred people scattered throughout the building and its grounds.

Luckily, local custom seemed to require guests to arrive with contributions of food and drink and the pitifully inadequate snacks he and Pris had arranged were largely ignored.  When Armando arrived, accompanied by his brother Diego and assorted friends and girlfriends, David greeted him warmly, grateful to see a familiar face.

Armando quickly assessed the gastronomic situation and made a few calls on his 'mote.  Within half an hour, more of his friends had arrived with four or five large barbeque grills on wheels, which they called asado's.  While the barbeque fires were being lit, some of the local residents went back to their homes, returning with slabs of beef and mutton.  There was no shortage of volunteer cooks, and the meat was soon sizzling over the flames.

David's offers to pay for the food were waved away flamboyantly.

Armando and Diego fetched acoustic guitars from their car and rapidly had guests young and old dancing to catchy tango rhythms and more modern flamenco-rock numbers.

By then David had abandoned any attempts at organisation and found himself enjoying the chaotic proceedings.  Someone shoved a plate of deliciously grilled beef into his hands and he couldn't remember ever having a tastier meal.

The star of the evening turned out to be Pris, who had gone to town, literally.  She had shopped for a new outfit that morning and was resplendent in a knee length red flamenco dress, her long legs tucked into black leather boots. Her shoulder-length blonde hair, which she usually wore tied back, had been let down and was topped by a stylish black gaucho hat.

David didn't see much of her that evening; she was constantly surrounded by a solid phalanx of admirers, both male and female.

Eventually, in the early hours of the morning, the party began to wind down.  Armando and his friends left to finish their night out in downtown nightclubs.  Someone switched on a news channel and some of the guests went inside to catch breaking news coming from the Moon.  David followed them in and hovered at the back of the room.

He recognised the face of the forthright young reporter from Mongolia Today, whose frosty attitude towards him had not thawed throughout her stay on Shelter Island.  Not every recipient of the Forever Gene was eternally grateful, he had discovered.

She was reporting from the domed hangar bay on Moonbase Alpha, the picture regularly switching between her and an outdoor shot of the massive bulk of the Faerie Folk's star ship. David moved closer, straining to hear above the hubbub in the room.

"We understand that Emissary's shuttle has made its last trip to Earth and that all of the Faerie Folk are now on board their star ship.  Dr Hans Mattheus and a team of astrophysicists are also on board getting final instructions on how to activate the star drive once the technology upgrade is complete. Analyst Ko has announced that they should be ready to leave in a few hours from now.  The ambassador will then present his gift to the leaders of the five participating delegations here on the Moon.  There has been no word yet on what form the gift may take, although worldwide speculation is rife.

"Unfortunately, Dr Mattheus is too busy to speak to us now, but with me is Katya Kasparova of the Russian delegation.  Colonel, you have been studying space navigation theory with Faerie Folk analysts for some time.  Have you any idea of what they are planning to give us?"

The picture cut to the angular frame and aloof features of the now famous cosmonaut.  She glanced nervously at the camera before speaking.  "The consensus among the delegations here is that it is likely to be information rather than a physical object.  The only clue the ambassador has given us so far is that it will benefit everyone on the planet.  It would be impossible for even the Faerie Folk to produce and distribute something tangible to each of the nine billion people on Earth.  We believe that it may be some form of software which can be downloaded on computerised devices."

"So you are not concerned about General Armitage's warning that it may be a 'life ray' which will instantly destroy all weaponry on Earth?"

Katya was unable to disguise her disdain for General Armitage and his warning.  "No, the scientists here don't think that such a thing is feasible.  The only thing they are aware of which could produce such an effect would be an immensely powerful electromagnetic pulse, which could destroy all electronic systems worldwide.  But a pulse of that magnitude would not be able to target weapons systems in isolation and, even if it could, weapons which are not controlled electronically would be unaffected."

Qara turned back to the camera.  "Yesterday, Ambassador Ba assured the leaders of the five delegations that the gift is nothing destructive.  This reporter, for one, is convinced that there is nothing to fear.  The Faerie Folk have been benevolent in their dealings with us so far and have given us no reason to doubt their motives.  This is Qara-Chinua of Mongolia Today.  Later we will bring you exclusive coverage of the ambassador's presentation and the departure of the Faerie Folk."

The remaining guests drifted away in twos and threes.  David and Pris stood together surveying the wreckage.  She took off her hat with a flourish and kissed him on the cheek.  "That was a fantastic party."

"It was all according to plan, my dear," he said haughtily.

By the time they got back to the hotel, the eastern sky had already begun to brighten.  Instead of going to bed they made tea in matè cups and went out onto the little balcony of their suite.  They sat and watched the sun rise over the mouth of the majestic River Plate, enjoying the warm summer breeze.  Dilapidated trawlers were already making their way out to sea for the day's fishing, bobbing up and down on the wakes of cargo carriers heading inland.

"It feels weird to be so warm at this time of year," said Pris.  "I could get used to this.  Why don't we spend some time here?  There are some beautiful villas for sale upriver."

David's 'mote chimed and he ignored it.  It was too early to be taking calls.  "Is the one in Bermuda too draughty for you?"

She made a face at him.  "That's up north.  What's wrong with having one here, where it's summer at the end of the year?  It would be great to be able to get away from Boston's winter for a few weeks a year."

His 'mote chimed again.  And again.  Annoyed, he took it out of his ear and lobbed it through the balcony doorway onto the bed.

"I thought you liked sitting in front of the fire on cold evenings?"

"Yes, but not every night for months on end.  And I wouldn't miss the wind blowing right through me every time I leave the house."

She looked down at her wrist-link.  "Who is calling so early?  Oh, what does he want?"

She answered the call.  "Chunky, it's a good thing I'm not asleep.  What are you doing up so early?"

She frowned.  "Yes, he's here.  Why, what's wrong?"

She turned to David.  "Chunky says you had better switch on the news."

He sighed grumpily and stood up.  "I suppose it's all about this gift again."  He went back into the suite and used the Spanish word command to switch on the AVIC.  The picture on the wall-screen came on, showing a smiling, waving Ambassador Ba accepting a bouquet of flowers from one of the delegates on the Moon.  It seemed that he had already made his final presentation.  Behind him, a queue of Faerie Folk could be seen trooping down the docking tube leading to their star ship.

David couldn't follow the rapid stream of animated Spanish commentary and flipped through the channels until he found CNN.  He fiddled with the touchscreen control until he discovered how to replay the current segment, which began with a brief freeze-frame of the face of Qara-Chinua.

"Oh great," he muttered, sitting down on the bed.

"What did you say?" asked Pris, coming in from the balcony.

"Nothing, I think we have missed the presentation.  I'm playing it back."

"...but before they leave, Ambassador Ba will make his eagerly awaited farewell announcement," Qara was saying.

The picture cut to the willowy form of the ambassador in his blue-green shimmer-robe, standing in front of a contingent of the Faerie Folk.

"My friends," he said in his high-pitched, metallic tone.  "It saddens me to be saying goodbye to you.  In our time on Earth we have been treated with kindness and respect, understandably tempered at first with a healthy dose of caution.  But I hope that we have done enough to earn your trust and that you now regard us as friends.  As I have already explained, circumstances in our home system have forced us to cut short our stay.  However we believe we have learned enough from you, and from the other races we have contacted, to help us in our quest to reverse the genetic trend which threatens our future.  And I hope that we have been able, in some small way, to enhance yours in return.

"Analyst Ko reports that your scientists have all they need to integrate the star drive with your technology within about two of your months.  After a period of testing, you will be ready to make your first wormhole voyage.  In time, you will be able to use our star charts to find habitable planets to colonise."

A smattering of applause broke out from the delegates looking on.

David picked up his 'mote, which seemed to be chiming continuously.  He wondered if there was something wrong with it.  Then he looked down at his 'link and saw that call after call was coming in. He glanced across at Pris, who was also distracted by her 'link.  Something had happened.  It was not necessarily something bad, he told himself, but he couldn't help the feeling of unease which settled over him.