Connexion : The Atlantis Project, Book.1 (3 page)

“No,” replied Clementine, “no one.”

“Take care of my brother first, he’s
unconscious.”

“Don’t worry, sir. You’re going to be fine.
Let me put this mask on you. We’re going to put you on oxygen until
we reach the hospital, where you’ll be treated as soon as
possible.”

“Give the mask to him. I’m fine.”

“We have enough masks for all of you.”

Charlie lay down on the stretcher and
relaxed. Clementine sat beside him as the ambulance took off, its
siren screaming. Through the window they could see the streets
running past, with survivors here and there, coming out of the
buildings, one by one. The further they drove, the more people they
saw in the streets. At last they came to a zone which had not been
touched by the disaster, where life seemed to be carrying on as
usual. For now, Charlie was calm, relieved. He was letting himself
be carried like a baby, pretty much as he had always done, once
again entrusting his life to the hands of unknown strangers. They
were taking care of everything, and everything would work out, as
always.

“
You see, Clementine, we’re going to make
it.”

“Who are you talking to, Jacques?” he
answered under his breath. “She can’t hear you. Just relax, wait
and see.”

Charlie fell asleep, lying on the stretcher;
while Clementine, sitting nearby, watched over them as she would
have her own children if she had had any.

2 TAKING OFF

Jacques had woken up the day before, a little
confused, but apparently in relatively good health. He had pulled
out of a strange sort of coma – generalized motor paralysis –which
had impeded all voluntary movement, including eye movement. They
had already been in hospital for over a week. The loss of
consciousness in and of itself had been quite brief, only a few
hours, but the doctors did not know about that. Charlie preferred
to keep silent on that point, worried that they would think he was
crazy, or treat him like a guinea-pig, two scenarios which his past
made him fear more than anything. For the first time since their
admission to the hospital, they were allowed to step outside,
accompanied by Clementine. Their actual return home was not planned
for several more days yet. They would have to wait a little longer,
while the doctors watched for possible symptoms of post traumatic
stress syndrome; symptoms which, they were told, could sometimes be
delayed. What “home”, anyway? Did they still have one? They had not
the slightest idea. At best, they would find an apartment covered
in that fine dust which infiltrated everywhere and even made its
way into the middle of wardrobes and clothes. An apartment which
they would need to set straight quickly, but with whose help?
Michel was dead, now. The same was almost certainly true of the
rest of their friends; friends, or rather contacts, who could
already have been counted on the fingers of one hand and who would
no longer be counted at all. Only Clementine was left, but for how
much longer?

The three of them sat in silence in front of
the hospital, attentively observing the constant coming and going
of ambulances to the Emergency Room. A little further on, life
seemed to have returned to normal in the city. People walked with
hurried steps, eyes averted, without speaking; they only looked at
each other or smiled when absolutely necessary. Two nurses were
smoking in front of the entrance to the maternity department.
Ambulance horns and sirens filled the air once again, but the
deathly silence which had reigned following the terrifying noise of
the explosion, lingered in their minds. It had been a leaden
silence; the streets emptied of all human life for mile upon mile;
a dead, petrified town; the timeless experience would be forever
engraved in their memory. Today, at last, they were resurfacing in
an inhabited, living, noisy world, which seemed strange, or rather,
foreign, as if they no longer really belonged in it. They remained
silent, fluctuating between the impression of a return to normal,
which should have been reassuring; and the anxiety of having lost
everything, of having to rebuild, without knowing where or how to
begin. They felt more alone than ever, after years spent trying so
hard to be accepted, building up piece by piece, one by one, a
small but precious social network, which had just collapsed in a
few seconds, like a crude house of cards. It was Charlie who broke
the silence first.

“Well! What now? What shall we do?”

“I don’t know! Maybe we could start by asking
those two nurses for a cigarette, and then we could take some time
to think things over.”

“Leave it to me, I’ll ask them for you.
They’re more likely to give me one, and the doctors specifically
said you were to avoid all physical effort for a few more days.”
Clementine stood up, before adding, “You must realize that smoking
is not exactly recommended for people in your state.”

“What is recommended for our state?”

“What about you, Charlie? You don’t
mind?”

“No, go ahead, let him have his smoke. I
think I may even join him in his vice, if it comes to that.”

But Clementine did not have time to act. An
army vehicle and a black limousine pulled up in front of them.
Three uniformed men and a woman in plain clothes got out. The young
woman, a pretty, athletic brunette with short hair, spoke in a
polite but firm tone.

“My name is Hanna. I work for the French
Secret Service. Please get your belongings together as quickly as
possible and come with me.”

“Actually, we are wearing all our belongings,
I’m afraid.”

“Very well, in that case, let’s not waste any
more time.”

“I think there must be some mistake. I fail
to see how we could be of any use to you. And for the time being,
we are under strict orders not to leave the hospital.”

“There is no possible mistake, sir.”

“What about Clementine?”

“She will be coming with you. We have a few
questions to ask you, and then you will be free to go home. The
medical staff will be informed of your departure. There’s no need
to worry about that, we will take care of it. Now, let’s be on our
way, if you please!”

They followed Hanna to the car and got into
the back seat, while the young woman took her seat next to the
driver. A two-way mirror separated the front of the limousine from
the back seat, so that for the duration of the trip their only view
was their own reflection. Profound silence reigned in the vehicle,
barely broken by the vibrations of the road and the dull roar of
the engine. Even Jacques did not dare to break the silence. The
image of the twins and Clementine in the mirror only served to add
to the strangeness of the situation, as they had nowhere else to
look. After a few minutes, Hanna’s voice came over the
speakers.

“We will be arriving soon.”

“
She could be a little more forthcoming. I
wonder what interest they could really have in questioning
us.”

“They’re probably recording the testimonies
of all the survivors for their inquiry.”

If he could have, Charlie would have liked to
answer Jacques without speaking audibly, too, but this new gift was
one of the rare things which they did not share.

It was Clementine’s turn to speak.

“Do you think they’ll really let us go as
soon as they’ve finished questioning us?”

“Of course! Don’t worry. It’s just an
interview to help with their inquiry.”

Jacques spoke aloud, “How should
he
know?”

“Oh, because
you
know something about
it, do you?”

“No more than you do. But if I were you, I
wouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

After several long minutes the vehicle
finally came to a stop. The right rear door opened, letting in a
blinding light. The features of Hanna’s face were backlit.

“Here we are. You can get out.”

Clementine went first. The tension had just
risen another notch, becoming almost tangible. They were walking
over the grounds of a small aero-club, and just in front of them
was a chrome-colored jet, marked with the initials E.T.I.

“Climb aboard, please.”

“Wait a minute! What’s all this about? We
were just supposed to answer a few questions about the accident.
Where are you taking us?”

“Don’t worry, Jacques. You can trust me. We
will tell you more once we’ve arrived.”

“
Now things are getting seriously
complicated. We’re going to have to stick together. I don’t like
that woman at all!”

Charlie answered him in a whisper, “Thanks
for telling me, but for once in our lives, something exciting is
happening! Just enjoy the moment.
I
get the impression that
the time has finally come for you do something worthwhile.”

“
I admit that the prospect of boarding a
Secret Service plane is quite exciting, but…”

It was obvious that Clementine did not share
that opinion. Charlie noticed her reluctance immediately, but could
not imagine continuing without her.

“Come on, Clementine,” he said quickly and
firmly. “I don’t think they’re really giving us any choice.”

Charlie, who was not usually inclined to
venture off the beaten track, suddenly felt strangely exhilarated.
It was probably his taste for the theatrical coming to the fore.
Perhaps too, he simply did not want to look back. The interior of
the plane was very spacious and comfortable. Muted opera music made
for a relaxed atmosphere and soon an attractive hostess approached
them.

“Please be seated and fasten your seatbelts
during take-off. I’ll be along shortly with some refreshments for
you.”

“Thank you. It won’t be a long flight, I
presume?”

The hostess, still smiling, ignored Charlie’s
question and returned to the front of the aircraft where she took a
seat and fastened her safety belt. There she remained, facing them,
with a fixed smile; carefully adopting an elegant posture, back
straight and shoulders back. Clementine was silent. She did not
seem particularly relaxed, but rather resigned to following an
imposed plan of action. Besides, she knew that they needed her now
more than ever. Their self-assurance and confident talk were for
appearances; a façade that served to hide acute fragility and, she
thought, a naivety that made them an easy, defenseless prey. She
did not know what awaited them but she would be there to face it
with them, with all the skills and devices that a woman is capable
of using in her relationships.

While Charlie was focused on the take-off,
both nervous and fascinated by this new experience, Jacques was
carefully observing the magnificent hostess, with her impassive
face, like a wax statue whose smile has been permanently sculpted.
After a few seconds, the plane’s blinds were lowered, preventing
Charlie from continuing his contemplation. The young woman roused
herself to bring them cold drinks and snacks. Twenty minutes later,
the three companions fell into a deep sleep, induced by the
sedatives she had carefully placed in their glasses and which
quickly took effect.

…Jacques was sitting beside a charming young
lady reading a women’s magazine. She had her legs crossed and her
head down, so he could not make out her face. He was wearing a
black suit, and had a small, metallic briefcase handcuffed to his
arm. They were both in the front row of what vaguely resembled a
commercial airliner, apart from the plane’s gigantic dimensions.
Behind them, were hundreds of rows of passengers, as far as the eye
could see. Jacques could not see the people’s faces clearly, any
more than he could see the features of the young woman seated
beside him. The plane’s windows were huge, too, but their opaque
glass only let in a very filtered, bluish light, creating an eerie
atmosphere. Nevertheless, Jacques was not frightened; simply
surprised to find himself there without knowing where he really
was. Something else was bothering him. He felt deep down that
something was missing. He felt lighter and especially free, despite
the strange, enclosed space in which he found himself. He could not
explain it; it was simply a feeling that, in a split second, became
his primary concern.

After a moment of contemplation and
hesitation, Jacques decided to strike up a conversation with his
neighbor, albeit a little nervously. He seemed to know her from
somewhere, but could not remember precisely where.

“Excuse me. I’m sorry to interrupt your
reading. This might seem crazy, but I can’t remember where we’re
flying to. To tell the truth, I’m not really sure what I’m doing
here, or even where we are.”

The young woman slowly looked up at Jacques,
who was horrified to discover a wax face with a big, fixed smile,
shimmering with pale pink gloss. He stared at those lips. They
seemed to be the only human, fleshly thing he could latch onto for
the moment. Very soon, all that filled his mind was the image of
those luscious lips, with their pale, yet provocative shade of
pink. The rest of her face became more and more blurry, as did the
area around it, until it all disappeared completely in a halo of
light which slowly faded.

Now he was alone in a wilderness which he
quickly realized was the surface of the Moon. His feet were deep in
dust so fine he felt as if he were walking through flour. All
around him there was nothing but flour as far as the eye could see,
forming here and there hills and little canyons. Looking up, he saw
the Earth. It seemed to him to be an enormous, reassuring and
welcoming, blue ball. He remembered footage of Neil Armstrong
taking his first steps on the moon, and the giant leaps he had
made, being free of his earthly weight. So Jacques began to jump,
higher and higher, deliriously happy. He felt as light as air, and
was soon flying over the lunar mountains and plains, until he fell
into a muddy hole, which he could not manage to climb out of. His
body became heavier, and the more he struggled, the further he sank
into a sort of slimy paste, where he was probably going to be
trapped forever. Seized with panic, he began to yell with all his
might, as if anyone could hear him here, alone out in space. That
was when he noticed a slim silhouette in the distance, slowly
drawing nearer. The silhouette was still too far away for him to
identify who or what it was, but now he could hear a soft voice
saying, “Is everything okay, sir?”