"Well, now, I do have one question," Hoblenz said, glancing at his men. They were returning from their sweep of the beach at a slow pace and were still a good distance away. "Mr. Gray, do you think he's, you know, okay?"
Laura was puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"I mean" — he spat again—"is he playin' with a full deck?"
Laura cocked her head. "Are you asking me about Mr. Gray's sanity?"
"In yer professional opinion."
She shrugged. "But I don't have a professional opinion about Mr. Gray."
He looked down at her without a trace of the smile remaining. "Then what the hell have you been doin' these last three days?"
She shook her head, shrugging. "I've been working on the computer like everybody else!"
"But you're a goddamn psychologist!" he said in a low and menacing voice. "Jeez, you cain't tell me you ain't figured it out, Miss… Harvard! Why, a two-year-old could've put it together by now!"
"Put what together?" she practically shouted, determined not to be intimidated.
"Sweep that beach again!" he boomed at his approaching men, searing Laura. The soldiers eyed him for a second, then wheeled and headed back the way they'd just come.
She waited as long as she could and then whispered, "Put what together?"
"I did the security check on you myself. I know who you are, and I know Gray didn't pick you — the computer did."
She waited for more, but that was it. "And?" she said in irritation.
He shook his head. "You egghead types pretty much need a road map and compass when it comes to common sense, don't you?"
"Just lay it out for me, won't you, Mr. Hoblenz? Just what is it you're trying to say?"
He smiled and shook his head slowly. "The computer didn't pick you out 'cause it was sick in the head! The damn thing don't even have a head! It's Gray! Cain't you get that into yer beach-ball-sized brain? The computer thinks Gray is crackin' up! It thinks he's gone over the edge! That the stress is too much for him! It brought you here to fix Gray, not the computer," Hoblenz said in a growl that for him passed for a soft but urgent voice.
Laura just stared back up at Hoblenz. "I thought you told Mr. Gray you don't trust me."
"Well… I don't."
"And you told him not to talk to me."
"I did."
"But why would you do that if you thought I was here to psychoanalyze him? Why would you tell him not to talk to me if he's having emotional difficulties?"
"I don't think Gray's going nuts. Mr. Gray's the sanest man I ever met in my life. I said the computer thinks he's going crazy. I was just tryin' to see whether you agreed, but it seems the question hadn't even occurred to you," he said, barking out a laugh and shaking his head.
"Then why did you tell Gray not to talk to me? What could you possibly think might happen if he's so sane?"
He openly looked up and down her body, taking a slow and offensive inventory. "Miss-y, you need a road map, a compass, and a goddamn motor."
"Do you think it was a robot?" Laura shouted over the noise. The two motors roared, and the wind rushed by her ears. Hoblenz's boat crashed from swell to swell, rhythmically jarring her bones. He cast a glance over his shoulder at the two men seated by the motors in back.
Hoblenz held firmly on to the steering wheel, and Laura gripped the long handle in front of her seat. The hull of the speeding craft alternately rose into the air and crashed onto the water.
"Pretty much had to be," he shouted back, turning the wheel and cutting a wide arc around a jut of land. From behind the thick jungle, Launchpad A came slowly into view.
"One of the Model Eights?" she shouted. "The one they call 'Auguste'?"
Hoblenz looked over at her in surprise. He cut back on the throttle, slowing the boat as he headed toward the shore. Two vehicles were parked on the beach. Each had six huge, ribbed [garbled] rose almost as high as the roll bar. They were covered in a thick coat of gray mud. Four more soldiers stood spread out around the [missing]. Their backs were to the ocean, their rifles pointed toward the [garbled].
It wasn't the Dutch submarine that concerned Hoblenz's men. "You've been doin' some snoopin'," Hoblenz said. He cut the engine a few feet offshore. Their momentum carried the flat rubber bottom onto the sand with a high-pitched rubbing sound. One of the soldiers in back jumped into the shin-high water with a rope.
Hoblenz himself put one boot into the water. He held out his hand to Laura. She ignored it and jumped onto the dry sand.
Hoblenz joined her onshore. "Can I have a word with you?" Laura asked. Hoblenz glanced at his men and then jerked his head toward an empty stretch of beach. When they were some distance away, Laura said, "You were at the town meeting last night, right?"
"'Course," Hoblenz replied, glancing back over his shoulder at his men.
"What did you think about Mr. Gray's speech?" Laura asked, looking up at the man. "About phase two?"
Hoblenz stopped suddenly and turned to face her. He had a deadly serious look on his face. "I'm ready."
Something in the way he said it sent a chill through her.
"Ready for what?" she asked.
He gave a curt nod of his head. "For what's comin'."
Laura was totally unprepared for that turn in the conversation. "And what is that?"
Hoblenz lost his patience. "The fuckin' phase two!"
"Well… what's phase two?"
"War," he replied simply.
The silence hung heavy around them. Laura was at a loss. "War against whom?"
Hoblenz shrugged. "Beats the hell outa me." He seemed untroubled by his answer. "Ya see, gettin' ready to fight a war isn't so much drawin' on maps. It's up here," Hoblenz said, tapping his temple with a curled index finger. "I don't think even Mr. Gray knows exactly what's comin', but he's right about one thing. We've always been at our best when challenged. We've always made our greatest strides during violent conflict." Hoblenz was turned on — animated. "All the 'cooperative,' 'noncompetitive' bullshit is just that — bullshit. It's a product of our affluence. A luxury we've been able to afford in recent years. But the time's comin'. The shit's gonna hit the fan big-time."
"What in the hell are you talking about?"
"Judgment day. The reckoning. Whatever you wanna call it."
Laura smiled in spite of herself. "Did Gray start talking about the Bible or something?"
"No-o! Gray would never preach. But I knew what he was sayin'. There's no doubt in my mind."
"Well, what words did he use?" Laura asked in frustration.
Hoblenz squinted, scrutinizing her with his head cocked to one side. "He talked about the tree of knowledge growing and spreading."
Laura stared back at him, then asked, "What the hell does that mean?"
He waved a hand at her, unwilling to admit, she guessed, that he didn't understand the comment either. "You had to be there."
"I wish I had been! Somebody could've woken me up."
"I asked Mr. Gray if he wanted me to send a car for you," Hoblenz said.
Laura felt a stab of pain in her chest that was almost physical. She looked up. "What?"
"I asked when we were settin' up the metal detectors if I should send a car up to get you." Hoblenz shrugged. "He said not to bother."
Laura was devastated. They headed back to the others, Laura's head hung low against the glare from the sun.
"One of my men'll get you to the launch pad to catch a car. There should be plenty of 'em available now that the island's been somewhat depopulated."
"I want to see where it happened."
"Where what happened?"
"Where the soldier was killed," Laura replied, looking up at him defiantly.
Hoblenz's strained attempts at politeness came to an abrupt end. "Now what the hell for? It ain't no walk across the quad gettin' up in there, ya know, Doc. And I've done taken one shower today."