Abduction (27 page)
Authors: Robin Cook
Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Onbekend, #Unabridged Audio - Fiction, #Suspense & Thriller
"What's that?"
"You lie down on the bed," Mura instructed. "I will rub your body and massage your muscles." "Now you're talking."
"And once you are serene we will press palms with the caldorphin." "Sounds great, baby," Michael said, recovering his composure. "Let's do it." "All right, I'll be there in a moment," Mura said. She gave Michael a gentle nudge toward the bed. Dutifully Michael sauntered over and lay down on the soft coverlet. Mura went to the refrigerator to get something cold to drink. She gave the command directly to the receptor so she could do it as softly as possible so as to avoid disturbing Michael. After his minor outburst, she sensed he was tense and needful of every consideration. She knew from experience how easily agitated secondary humans could become over the strangest things. Mura was surprised to discover the compartment so full. "My word," she said. "What all do you have in here?"
In response to Mura's nagging about Sart, Michael's ardor had significantly waned. Instead of fantasizing as he lay facedown on the bed waiting for her ministrations, he found himself fretting over the dinner table discussion that their group was stuck in Interterra. Consequently her comment about his refrigerator being full didn't even penetrate his consciousness until he heard beverage and food containers crash to the floor followed by a gasp. It was only then that he remembered Sart's body, and by then it was too late . . . .
"Oh shit!" Michael whispered as he leaped off the bed. Just as he'd feared, Mura was standing in front of the open refrigerator with a hand clasped over her mouth. Her expression was one of pure horror. Inside the refrigerator, Sart's frozen, pale face was framed haphazardly by stacked containers. Michael rushed to Mura's side and enveloped her with his arms. She sagged against him and would have collapsed had he not been supporting her. "Listen! Listen!" Michael urged in a forced whisper. "I can explain." Mura regained her balance and pulled herself from Michael's embrace. With a trembling hand she reached into the refrigerator and felt Sart's cheek. It was as firm as wood and as cold as ice. "Oh, no!" she moaned. Cradling her own drained cheeks with her hands, she shivered as if a cold wind had suddenly wafted through the room. When Michael tried again to put his arms around her, she shoved him to the side to keep Sart's face in view. As frightful as the image was, she could not turn away. Frantically Michael bent down, retrieved the fallen objects, and crammed them back into the refrigerator to block her view of the dead boy. "You have to calm down," he said nervously. "What happened to his essence?" Mura demanded. Blood surged back into her face turning her cheeks crimson. Shock and dismay were turning to anger.
"You lie down on the bed," Mura instructed. "I will rub your body and massage your muscles." "Now you're talking."
"And once you are serene we will press palms with the caldorphin." "Sounds great, baby," Michael said, recovering his composure. "Let's do it." "All right, I'll be there in a moment," Mura said. She gave Michael a gentle nudge toward the bed. Dutifully Michael sauntered over and lay down on the soft coverlet. Mura went to the refrigerator to get something cold to drink. She gave the command directly to the receptor so she could do it as softly as possible so as to avoid disturbing Michael. After his minor outburst, she sensed he was tense and needful of every consideration. She knew from experience how easily agitated secondary humans could become over the strangest things. Mura was surprised to discover the compartment so full. "My word," she said. "What all do you have in here?"
In response to Mura's nagging about Sart, Michael's ardor had significantly waned. Instead of fantasizing as he lay facedown on the bed waiting for her ministrations, he found himself fretting over the dinner table discussion that their group was stuck in Interterra. Consequently her comment about his refrigerator being full didn't even penetrate his consciousness until he heard beverage and food containers crash to the floor followed by a gasp. It was only then that he remembered Sart's body, and by then it was too late . . . .
"Oh shit!" Michael whispered as he leaped off the bed. Just as he'd feared, Mura was standing in front of the open refrigerator with a hand clasped over her mouth. Her expression was one of pure horror. Inside the refrigerator, Sart's frozen, pale face was framed haphazardly by stacked containers. Michael rushed to Mura's side and enveloped her with his arms. She sagged against him and would have collapsed had he not been supporting her. "Listen! Listen!" Michael urged in a forced whisper. "I can explain." Mura regained her balance and pulled herself from Michael's embrace. With a trembling hand she reached into the refrigerator and felt Sart's cheek. It was as firm as wood and as cold as ice. "Oh, no!" she moaned. Cradling her own drained cheeks with her hands, she shivered as if a cold wind had suddenly wafted through the room. When Michael tried again to put his arms around her, she shoved him to the side to keep Sart's face in view. As frightful as the image was, she could not turn away. Frantically Michael bent down, retrieved the fallen objects, and crammed them back into the refrigerator to block her view of the dead boy. "You have to calm down," he said nervously. "What happened to his essence?" Mura demanded. Blood surged back into her face turning her cheeks crimson. Shock and dismay were turning to anger.
"It was an accident," Michael said. "He fell and hit his head." Michael reached for her again, but she
backed up to keep him at arm's length.
"But his essence?" Mura questioned again, although deep down she already knew the horrid truth. "Look, he's dead, for chrissake," Michael snapped. "His essence is lost!" Mura managed. Her fleeting anger was already giving way to grief. Tears welled up in her emerald green eyes.
"Look, baby," Michael said in a tone halfway between solicitude and irritation. "Regrettably, the kid is dead. It was an accident. You have to pull yourself together." Tears turned to sobs as the reality of the tragedy struck the core of Mura's own essence. "I must go and tell the elders," she said. She turned and started toward the door. "No, wait!" Michael said. He was frantic. He rushed around to head her off. "Listen to me!" He grabbed her with both hands.
"Let me go!" Mura cried. She tried to break from his grasp. "I must announce the calamity." "No, we must talk," Michael insisted. He grappled with her as she tried to free herself. "Let go!" Mura yelled, her voice rising through her sobs. She got one arm free. "Shut up!" Michael shouted back. He slapped her across the face with an open palm, hoping to snap her out of her hysteria. Instead, she opened her mouth and let loose an earsplitting scream. Fearful of the consequences, Michael clapped a hand over her mouth. But it was not enough. Mura was a tall, strong woman, and she twisted from his grasp, letting out another cry. With some difficulty Michael got his hand over her mouth again, but no matter what he tried, he could not keep her quiet. Impulsively he dragged her over to the deep end of the pool and launched them both into the water. But even the sudden dunking did not contain her screams until he forced her head beneath the water's surface.
Still she struggled, and when he brought her up for a breath, she let out a cry as loud as any previous. Again Michael pushed her under the water, and this time he held her until her violent flailing slowed, then ceased.
Slowly he eased up on the grip he had around her head, afraid she'd suddenly rear up and yell once more. Instead her limp body slowly bobbed to the surface, her face submerged. He pulled her body to the edge and lifted her onto the pool's marble lip. A foamy mixture of mucus and saliva issued from her nose and slack mouth. As he looked at her and realized she was dead, a shudder passed down his spine. His teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. He had killed someone--someone he cared for.
For a moment he stood perfectly still. He wondered if anyone could have heard Mura's screeches. Thankfully, the night was still. In a panic, he dragged her over to the bed, laid her alongside, and pulled the coverlet over her. Then he ran past the pool and out into the night.
backed up to keep him at arm's length.
"But his essence?" Mura questioned again, although deep down she already knew the horrid truth. "Look, he's dead, for chrissake," Michael snapped. "His essence is lost!" Mura managed. Her fleeting anger was already giving way to grief. Tears welled up in her emerald green eyes.
"Look, baby," Michael said in a tone halfway between solicitude and irritation. "Regrettably, the kid is dead. It was an accident. You have to pull yourself together." Tears turned to sobs as the reality of the tragedy struck the core of Mura's own essence. "I must go and tell the elders," she said. She turned and started toward the door. "No, wait!" Michael said. He was frantic. He rushed around to head her off. "Listen to me!" He grabbed her with both hands.
"Let me go!" Mura cried. She tried to break from his grasp. "I must announce the calamity." "No, we must talk," Michael insisted. He grappled with her as she tried to free herself. "Let go!" Mura yelled, her voice rising through her sobs. She got one arm free. "Shut up!" Michael shouted back. He slapped her across the face with an open palm, hoping to snap her out of her hysteria. Instead, she opened her mouth and let loose an earsplitting scream. Fearful of the consequences, Michael clapped a hand over her mouth. But it was not enough. Mura was a tall, strong woman, and she twisted from his grasp, letting out another cry. With some difficulty Michael got his hand over her mouth again, but no matter what he tried, he could not keep her quiet. Impulsively he dragged her over to the deep end of the pool and launched them both into the water. But even the sudden dunking did not contain her screams until he forced her head beneath the water's surface.
Still she struggled, and when he brought her up for a breath, she let out a cry as loud as any previous. Again Michael pushed her under the water, and this time he held her until her violent flailing slowed, then ceased.
Slowly he eased up on the grip he had around her head, afraid she'd suddenly rear up and yell once more. Instead her limp body slowly bobbed to the surface, her face submerged. He pulled her body to the edge and lifted her onto the pool's marble lip. A foamy mixture of mucus and saliva issued from her nose and slack mouth. As he looked at her and realized she was dead, a shudder passed down his spine. His teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. He had killed someone--someone he cared for.
For a moment he stood perfectly still. He wondered if anyone could have heard Mura's screeches. Thankfully, the night was still. In a panic, he dragged her over to the bed, laid her alongside, and pulled the coverlet over her. Then he ran past the pool and out into the night.
Richard's cottage was no more than fifty yards away, and Michael covered the distance in seconds. He
pounded on the door.
"Whoever it is, go away!" Richard's voice commanded from within. "Richard, it's me!" Michael shouted.
"I don't care who it is!" Richard yelled back. "We're busy in here." "It can't wait, Richie," Michael insisted. "I got to see you." A string of expletives preceded a short silence. Finally the door was pulled open. "This better be good," Richard growled. He was buck naked.
"We got a problem," Michael announced.
"You're about to have another one," Richard warned. Then he noticed that Michael was sopping wet. "Why'd you go swimming with your clothes on?" he asked. "You gotta come with me back to my cottage," Michael stammered. Richard noted the degree of his friend's anxiety. Richard glanced over his shoulder to make sure none of the women were close enough to hear. "Does this have something to do with Sart's body?" he asked in a whisper.
"Yeah, unfortunately," Michael said.
"Where's Mura?"
"She's the problem," Michael said. "She saw the body." "Oh, Christ!" Richard moaned. "Is she upset?" "She went ballistic on me," Michael said. "You gotta come!" "All right! Calm down. So she really got psycho?" "I'm telling you, she went completely crazy. You gotta get your ass over there." "Okay already," Richard soothed. "Don't shout! I'll be over in a few minutes. I'll have to get rid of my friends."
Michael nodded as Richard closed the door in his face. Turning around, he sprinted back to his quarters. After checking to make sure Mura's body was where he'd left it, he changed into a dry set of clothes. Then he paced up and down the room, waiting for Richard. True to his word, Richard arrived in less than five minutes. He scanned the room the moment he stepped over the threshold. Everything looked peaceful enough. He half expected to see Mura sobbing uncontrollably on the bed, but she was nowhere to be seen. "Well, where is she?" he demanded. "In the bathroom?"
pounded on the door.
"Whoever it is, go away!" Richard's voice commanded from within. "Richard, it's me!" Michael shouted.
"I don't care who it is!" Richard yelled back. "We're busy in here." "It can't wait, Richie," Michael insisted. "I got to see you." A string of expletives preceded a short silence. Finally the door was pulled open. "This better be good," Richard growled. He was buck naked.
"We got a problem," Michael announced.
"You're about to have another one," Richard warned. Then he noticed that Michael was sopping wet. "Why'd you go swimming with your clothes on?" he asked. "You gotta come with me back to my cottage," Michael stammered. Richard noted the degree of his friend's anxiety. Richard glanced over his shoulder to make sure none of the women were close enough to hear. "Does this have something to do with Sart's body?" he asked in a whisper.
"Yeah, unfortunately," Michael said.
"Where's Mura?"
"She's the problem," Michael said. "She saw the body." "Oh, Christ!" Richard moaned. "Is she upset?" "She went ballistic on me," Michael said. "You gotta come!" "All right! Calm down. So she really got psycho?" "I'm telling you, she went completely crazy. You gotta get your ass over there." "Okay already," Richard soothed. "Don't shout! I'll be over in a few minutes. I'll have to get rid of my friends."
Michael nodded as Richard closed the door in his face. Turning around, he sprinted back to his quarters. After checking to make sure Mura's body was where he'd left it, he changed into a dry set of clothes. Then he paced up and down the room, waiting for Richard. True to his word, Richard arrived in less than five minutes. He scanned the room the moment he stepped over the threshold. Everything looked peaceful enough. He half expected to see Mura sobbing uncontrollably on the bed, but she was nowhere to be seen. "Well, where is she?" he demanded. "In the bathroom?"
Michael didn't answer. He motioned for Richard to follow him and walked around the end of the bed.
Reaching down with a shaky hand, he grasped the corner of the coverlet and whipped it aside to expose the corpse. Mura's previously translucent alabaster skin had become a mottled blue and the foam oozing from her mouth and nose was tinged with red. "What the hell?" Richard gasped. He knelt down and felt for a carotid pulse. He stood back up. His face was slack with shock. "She's dead!" "She opened the refrigerator," Michael explained. "She saw Sart's body." "All right, I understood that," Richard said. He stared at his friend. "But why did you kill her?" "I told you, she went crazy," Michael said. "She was screaming bloody murder. I was afraid she was going to wake up the entire goddamn city." "Why the hell did you let her open the refrigerator?" Richard demanded angrily. "I wasn't watching for two seconds," Michael said. "Yeah, well, you should have been more careful," Richard complained. "That's easy for you to say," Michael snapped. "I told you I didn't want the body over here. He should have been in your refrigerator, not mine." "Okay, calm down," Richard said. "We got to think what to do." "There's no more room in my refrigerator," Michael said. "She's got to go in yours." Richard wasn't wild about dragging the body over to his place, but he couldn't come up with an alternate idea, and he knew they had to do something quickly. If Mura was found, then Sart would be, too. One way or the other he'd be involved. "All right," Richard said reluctantly. "Let's get it over with." With dispatch they rolled Mura up inside the coverlet. Then with Richard at the head and Michael at the foot, they carried her across the lawn to Richard's cottage. They had a little trouble navigating her in through the door since it was relatively narrow. "Jeez," Michael complained. "Carrying a body is a little like carrying a mattress. It's harder than you'd think."
"That's because it's so much dead weight," Richard said, smirking at the double meaning. They dumped the body in the middle of the floor. While Michael unraveled the blanket, Richard went to the refrigerator and emptied it. Since this was his second time through the body-in-the-refrigerator routine, he knew exactly what to do, meaning to get Mura inside required a complete rearrangement of the contents.
"All right," Richard said. "Give me a hand." Together they got Mura wedged into place. She was taller and heavier than Sart, so she was a tighter fit.
Reaching down with a shaky hand, he grasped the corner of the coverlet and whipped it aside to expose the corpse. Mura's previously translucent alabaster skin had become a mottled blue and the foam oozing from her mouth and nose was tinged with red. "What the hell?" Richard gasped. He knelt down and felt for a carotid pulse. He stood back up. His face was slack with shock. "She's dead!" "She opened the refrigerator," Michael explained. "She saw Sart's body." "All right, I understood that," Richard said. He stared at his friend. "But why did you kill her?" "I told you, she went crazy," Michael said. "She was screaming bloody murder. I was afraid she was going to wake up the entire goddamn city." "Why the hell did you let her open the refrigerator?" Richard demanded angrily. "I wasn't watching for two seconds," Michael said. "Yeah, well, you should have been more careful," Richard complained. "That's easy for you to say," Michael snapped. "I told you I didn't want the body over here. He should have been in your refrigerator, not mine." "Okay, calm down," Richard said. "We got to think what to do." "There's no more room in my refrigerator," Michael said. "She's got to go in yours." Richard wasn't wild about dragging the body over to his place, but he couldn't come up with an alternate idea, and he knew they had to do something quickly. If Mura was found, then Sart would be, too. One way or the other he'd be involved. "All right," Richard said reluctantly. "Let's get it over with." With dispatch they rolled Mura up inside the coverlet. Then with Richard at the head and Michael at the foot, they carried her across the lawn to Richard's cottage. They had a little trouble navigating her in through the door since it was relatively narrow. "Jeez," Michael complained. "Carrying a body is a little like carrying a mattress. It's harder than you'd think."
"That's because it's so much dead weight," Richard said, smirking at the double meaning. They dumped the body in the middle of the floor. While Michael unraveled the blanket, Richard went to the refrigerator and emptied it. Since this was his second time through the body-in-the-refrigerator routine, he knew exactly what to do, meaning to get Mura inside required a complete rearrangement of the contents.
"All right," Richard said. "Give me a hand." Together they got Mura wedged into place. She was taller and heavier than Sart, so she was a tighter fit.
In the end, they had to leave a few containers out.
Richard straightened up after finally managing to get the door to shut. "This has got to stop," he said. "What?" Michael asked.
"Knocking off these Interterrans," Richard said. "We're out of refrigerators." "Very funny," Michael said. "How come I'm not laughing?" "Don't make me answer that, birdbrain," Richard said. "I'll tell you what it really means," Michael said. "We gotta get our asses out of Interterra! With two bodies, the chances of someone stumbling across one has just doubled." "You should have thought of that before you knocked her off," Richard said. "I'm telling you, I didn't have any choice!" Michael yelled. "I didn't want to ice her, but she wouldn't shut up."
"Don't shout!" Richard said. "You're right. We got to get the hell out of here. The only good news is that it seems the straightlaced admiral is thinking the same way we are."
Richard straightened up after finally managing to get the door to shut. "This has got to stop," he said. "What?" Michael asked.
"Knocking off these Interterrans," Richard said. "We're out of refrigerators." "Very funny," Michael said. "How come I'm not laughing?" "Don't make me answer that, birdbrain," Richard said. "I'll tell you what it really means," Michael said. "We gotta get our asses out of Interterra! With two bodies, the chances of someone stumbling across one has just doubled." "You should have thought of that before you knocked her off," Richard said. "I'm telling you, I didn't have any choice!" Michael yelled. "I didn't want to ice her, but she wouldn't shut up."
"Don't shout!" Richard said. "You're right. We got to get the hell out of here. The only good news is that it seems the straightlaced admiral is thinking the same way we are."
Suzanne couldn't remember the last time she'd swum in the nude, and she was pleasantly shocked by the sensation as she struck out across the pool. And although she was mildly self-conscious about being naked, especially given Garona's perfect form, she wasn't as uptight as she had imagined she'd be. It was probably because Garona made her feel so accepted the way she was despite her physical imperfections.
Reaching the far end of the pool, Suzanne flipped over and, with a burst of speed, swam back to where Garona was contentedly sitting at the edge with just his feet in the water. She grasped one of his ankles and succeeded in pulling him into the water. They ducked under the water and embraced. Eventually tiring of their underwater play, they swam to the side, and hauled themselves out of the water. With the slight breeze wafting in from the open end of the room, Suzanne felt gooseflesh pop out along the backs of her arms and the sides of her thighs. "I'm glad you came back tonight," she said. She was genuinely glad to see him.
"I'm glad, too," Garona said. "I was anticipating it all day." "I wasn't sure if you would come back," Suzanne said. "To be honest, I was worried you wouldn't. I'm afraid I acted immaturely last night."
"What do you mean?"
"I should have made a clearer choice," Suzanne said. "Either I should not have allowed you to stay or, having done so, I should have acted more appropriately. What I did was somewhere in between." "I enjoyed every minute," Garona said. "Our interaction was not goal-oriented. The idea was just to
spend time together, which we did."
Suzanne gazed at Garona appreciatively, silently lamenting that it required a trip to a surreal, mythic world to find such a sensitive, giving, and handsome man. As her mind naturally drifted to the idea of taking him back with her, the thought yanked her back to the reality of whether she was ever going to be able to go back herself. It also brought up the other, major unanswered question. "Garona, can you tell me why we've been brought to Interterra?" Suzanne asked suddenly. Garona sighed. "I am sorry," he said. "I cannot interfere with Arak. You and your group are his charges."
"Just telling me why we're here would be interfering?" "Yes," Garona said without hesitation. "Please don't put me in that position. I want so much to be open and honest with you, but in that sphere I cannot, and it distresses me to have to deny you anything." Suzanne stared into her new friend's face and could see his sincerity. "I'm sorry for asking," she said. She lifted her hand and he lifted his. They slowly pressed palms. Suzanne smiled with contentment; she was becoming pleasantly acclimated to the Interterran embrace. "Perhaps I should ask how Arak is doing with his orientation?" Garona said. "I'd say very well," Suzanne commented. "He and Sufa are such gracious hosts." "But of course," Garona said. "They were lucky to get such an interesting group. I heard that they have already taken you out into the city. Did you enjoy that?" "It was fascinating," Suzanne said. "We visited the death center and the spawning center as well as Arak and Sufa's home."
"Such rapid progress," Garona commented. "I'm impressed indeed. I've never heard of second-generation humans progressing so quickly. What is your reaction to what you have seen and heard? I can hardly imagine how extraordinary it must be for you." "The expression
beyond belief
has never been so appropriate." "Have you found anything disturbing?"
Suzanne tried to figure out if Garona wanted the truth or platitudes. "There was one thing that bothered me," Suzanne began, deciding to give Garona honesty. She went on to explain her negative reaction to the implant process. Garona nodded. "I can appreciate your point of view," he said. "It is a natural consequence of your Judeo-Christian roots, which puts such high value on the individual. But I assure you we do as well. The child's essence is not ignored but rather added to the implanted essence. It is a mutually beneficial process, a true symbiosis."
"But how can an unborn's essence compete with that of a learned adult?" "It is not a competition," Garona said. "Both benefit, although obviously the child benefits the most. I can
Suzanne gazed at Garona appreciatively, silently lamenting that it required a trip to a surreal, mythic world to find such a sensitive, giving, and handsome man. As her mind naturally drifted to the idea of taking him back with her, the thought yanked her back to the reality of whether she was ever going to be able to go back herself. It also brought up the other, major unanswered question. "Garona, can you tell me why we've been brought to Interterra?" Suzanne asked suddenly. Garona sighed. "I am sorry," he said. "I cannot interfere with Arak. You and your group are his charges."
"Just telling me why we're here would be interfering?" "Yes," Garona said without hesitation. "Please don't put me in that position. I want so much to be open and honest with you, but in that sphere I cannot, and it distresses me to have to deny you anything." Suzanne stared into her new friend's face and could see his sincerity. "I'm sorry for asking," she said. She lifted her hand and he lifted his. They slowly pressed palms. Suzanne smiled with contentment; she was becoming pleasantly acclimated to the Interterran embrace. "Perhaps I should ask how Arak is doing with his orientation?" Garona said. "I'd say very well," Suzanne commented. "He and Sufa are such gracious hosts." "But of course," Garona said. "They were lucky to get such an interesting group. I heard that they have already taken you out into the city. Did you enjoy that?" "It was fascinating," Suzanne said. "We visited the death center and the spawning center as well as Arak and Sufa's home."
"Such rapid progress," Garona commented. "I'm impressed indeed. I've never heard of second-generation humans progressing so quickly. What is your reaction to what you have seen and heard? I can hardly imagine how extraordinary it must be for you." "The expression
beyond belief
has never been so appropriate." "Have you found anything disturbing?"
Suzanne tried to figure out if Garona wanted the truth or platitudes. "There was one thing that bothered me," Suzanne began, deciding to give Garona honesty. She went on to explain her negative reaction to the implant process. Garona nodded. "I can appreciate your point of view," he said. "It is a natural consequence of your Judeo-Christian roots, which puts such high value on the individual. But I assure you we do as well. The child's essence is not ignored but rather added to the implanted essence. It is a mutually beneficial process, a true symbiosis."
"But how can an unborn's essence compete with that of a learned adult?" "It is not a competition," Garona said. "Both benefit, although obviously the child benefits the most. I can
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