He was especially pleased to have San Lin with them. Not only was she a brilliant scientist with some startling theories, but speaking with her also helped him brush up on his Chinese. He was always looking to improve his education in any way that might aid his lifetime’s work.
Randa saw Brooks approaching, and knew instantly that the young man would go into auto-flirt mode. He headed directly for San Lin and held out his hand.
“Hi, Houston Brooks.”
“You two haven’t met, have you?” Randa asked. “San, Brooks wrote that dissertation at Yale I was telling you about.”
“Yes, the geologist.” She and Brooks shook hands. She smiled. “I’m San Lin. Biologist. I’ve been in the field since you were hired. Looks like I’m still there.”
“She’s been in the Brazilian jungle,” Randa said. “You should see her findings. Very impressive.”
“Yeah, I read the report,” Brooks said. “Interesting speculation.”
San raised an eyebrow. “You’re sceptical?”
“Don’t take it personally,” Brooks said, glancing at Randa. “I’m not sure I believe any of this. It just makes for a good paper.”
“Please forgive the new guy,” Randa said, enjoying taking Brooks down a peg. He was a nice guy, but too casual sometimes. Not committed enough. “He’s got a brilliant mind, but he doesn’t yet appreciate the beauty of the unknown. Your work was sound, Mr Brooks. This expedition is going to prove it.”
There was movement from the Landsat team, and Randa noticed Victor Nieves moving to the front of the room. He stood behind a table that had been set up there, glancing at the covered display boards, shuffling a sheaf of paper and looking nervously around the room. At first Randa thought he was nervous. Some people weren’t built for public speaking. Then it hit him—Nieves looked just like an excited teacher about to impart some treasured knowledge.
“Show’s about to start,” Randa said quietly, and his own excitement thrummed in his bones.
“Hello and welcome,” the man said. “I’m Landsat field supervisor Victor Nieves. Sitting just there is my colleague Steve Gibson, our data wrangler.”
Gibson raised a hand in greeting. The room had fallen silent, and remained so. Expectation was heavy.
“For those of you unfamiliar with Landsat One,” Nieves began, “it’s a satellite that views the exact same surface of the Earth every sixteen days, and provides an unbiased image using a multi-spectral scanner and return beam vidicon to provide eight-bit data…”
Shit, how to lose a room before you’ve even begun, Randa thought. Glances were exchanged, eyes rolled, and when Nieves looked to him, Randa shook his head. Someone laughed. One of Packard’s soldiers swore softly.
“Oh… er… well, it gives us pictures of the Earth from space. Since Landsat began, our team has surveyed a dozen untouched land masses discovered by the satellite imaging, with the express purpose of travelling there and exploring. We believe that this island, our destination on this voyage, will be the most challenging of the dozen we’ve found. All our images show the island surrounded by a near-constant storm system. That said, we’ve never had helicopter transport, so to the third helicopter attack squadron, a hearty thank you!”
Packard and his men nodded, and a couple gave soft whoops.
Nieves continued. “We’re also pleased to be joined for the first time by the resource exploration team, led by Mr Randa. Our main focus as map-makers will be on the island’s surface. Mr Randa’s team’s interest is in what lies beneath.” He smiled at Randa, then nodded at Brooks. “Mr Brooks?”
Brooks stood and walked to the front, tugging a couple of sheets from display boards as he did so. All very theatrical, Randa thought, but it was a good way to grab people’s attention. One revealed a large map. Beneath the other was a projector screen, and Brooks switched on a projector and stood back. The larger map was a composite from many satellite pictures, and the slides displayed more detailed, smaller sections of that same large image. Some areas were outlined, others marked with arrows.
Randa took in a deep breath and thought, I only hope Brooks doesn’t mess this up.
It was time to lay their plan on the line.
Too many cooks, Conrad thought. He’d been carefully surveilling the room, and he’d already come to the conclusion that there were too many independent parties involved in this effort, with disparate aims and each with their own leaders. Landsat, Randa’s team, the Sky Devils, the reporter. Him. And even within these smaller groups, there were those who didn’t seem familiar with each other. Brooks didn’t know the Chinese woman, a fact evident from his clumsy flirting. The Landsat guys seemed like nervous school kids out on their first big trip.
The reporter, Mason Weaver, didn’t seem to know anyone else in the room. She intrigued him, and he wondered what she thought of all this. Hopefully soon he’d have a chance to ask.
The whole set-up felt wrong, and from the moment he’d boarded the ship he’d begun to question the wisdom of coming along. Conrad wasn’t in the habit of making bad decisions, and rarely considered that he’d swung the wrong way. It was uncomfortable thinking that now.
What Brooks started to say next grabbed his attention once more and made him like things even less.
“We’ll be performing a full geological survey of the island’s subsurface,” he said, pointing at a slide. “We’ll fly in over the south shore and drop ground sensors in this zone. They’ll measure data generated by the seismic charges we’ll drop on our next pass.”
The room went quiet and still.
“You’re dropping bombs?” Conrad asked.
“Scientific instruments,” Brooks said.
“You don’t approve?” Packard asked.
Conrad shrugged. “When has science ever steered us wrong?”
“You heard that boys,” Packard said to his troops. “We’re scientists.” They laughed, clapping each other’s backs.
The slides moved on, displaying waves from seismic charges travelling underground to the red-dotted sensors. A simple animation then showed data transmitted to monitors set around and within the survey area.
Nieves took over from Brooks.
“After the survey, we’ll land and make base camp for ground excursions, led by the entertaining Mr Conrad.”
“Your humble guide,” Conrad said. “Tips encouraged.”
Nieves nodded to Major Chapman, one of Packard’s team. He stepped quickly to the front to address the room. Conrad admired his military precision and efficiency, but yet again he found it troubling. This was a civilian operation with gunships, seismic bombs, and napalm canisters.
“Once on the island,” Chapman said, “the storm’s magnetic field will block all radio contact with the Athena. That means we’ll be on our own. After three days the refuelling team will meet us here.” He pointed at the map. “North shore, thirteen-hundred hours. This may be the only safe departure window for an unknown time. We cannot miss it.”
Across the room, above the worried chatter rising from virtually everyone there, Conrad caught Weaver’s eye. She threw him a frosty smile and looked away. She didn’t seem anxious, and he thought he knew why—she still didn’t know what she’d come to find.
There was more to this trip than anyone had yet revealed.
SEVEN
Randa grabbed a drink from the bar and dropped into a seat beside Nieves and the rest of his team. At least the ship had an officers’ lounge. On this voyage, it had been reserved for the passengers, no crew allowed. Randa had expected Packard to attend on his own, perhaps bringing Major Chapman along, but it seemed that the colonel was happy with his grunts drinking here too. Randa didn’t mind. It gave the place some much-needed atmosphere.