Cradle (45 page)

‘That’s the music room I told you about,’ Carol said to Nick. ‘I guess that warden
thing had a video camera in all his paraphernalia.’

The television scene switched immediately to a close-up of Carol’s eyes. For five
seconds her frightened eyes filled almost the entire screen. She blinked twice before
the camera pulled back and revealed her in front view, terrified, standing and shaking
in her bathing suit. Carol shuddered as she recalled the horror of those seconds when
the warden’s appendages intruded upon her person. It was all shown in the video, some
parts even in slow motion. One of the featured scenes was the deliberate movement
of the bristles across her chest, including both her nipples.
Oh my God
, she thought.
I hadn’t realized they were erect. Maybe fear does that
. Carol squirmed. She felt surprisingly embarrassed in front of Nick.

There was a jump discontinuity in the programme. In the next scene the three of them
were looking at Troy, lying on his back on the floor somewhere, with enough wires
and cords attached to him that he could have been Gulliver bound by the Lilliputians.
The camera panned around the room. Two wardens were in one of the corners. Their upper
body attachments were not even similar, but they both had the same central body, amoebalike,
that had confronted Troy and Carol. On the other side of the room a pair of carpets
were standing together. From their motions it looked as if they were engaged in a
conversation. Nick and Carol and Troy watched while the camera stayed fixed for about
ten seconds. The carpets apparently finished conferring and then flipped off in separate
directions.

The final frames of the transmission were a close-up of Troy’s head showing more than
a hundred probes and inserts connected to his brain. Then the screen went back to
snow and static. ‘Wowee,’ said Nick after a moment. ‘Can I have an instant replay?’
He stood up from the bed. ‘You were terrific,’ he remarked to Carol, ‘but I think
your scenes will have to be edited if we want a PG rating.’

Carol looked up at him and blushed slightly. ‘Sorry, Nick, but I don’t think you make
a good comedian. We have one already,’ she nodded at Troy, ‘and I think that’s enough.’
She glanced at the clock beside her bed. ‘Now I figure we have fifteen minutes or
so to make plans. No more. And I have to dress as well. Why don’t you tell Troy about
your decision and what you have concluded about the
Santa Rosa
loot while I change my clothes.’ She grabbed a blouse and a pair of pants and headed
for the bathroom.

‘Hey, wait a minute,’ Nick protested. ‘Aren’t we going to discuss who it was that
broke into my apartment and your hotel room?’

Carol stopped outside the bathroom door. ‘There are only two possibilities that make
any sense,’ she said. ‘It’s either the Navy or our sicko friends from the
Ambrosia
. Either way we’ll find out soon enough.’ She stopped a moment and an elfin smile
played across her lips. ‘I want you two to see if you can figure out a way to steal
Homer’s gold. Tonight. Before we go back to meet with our extraterrestrials tomorrow
morning.’

Carol and Troy went over the details one last time and she checked her watch. ‘It’s
eight-thirty already,’ she said. ‘If I’m much later I know they’ll be suspicious.’
She was standing outside Nick’s Pontiac in the parking lot of the Pelican Resort,
a restaurant about three-quarters of a mile from the Ashford mansion at Pelican Point.
‘Where is he?’ she fretted. ‘We should have finished with this fifteen minutes ago.’

‘Just calm down, angel,’ Troy replied. ‘We have to test this new unit first. It could
be very important in an emergency and I’ve never actually used it.’ He gave her a
reassuring hug. ‘Your friends at MOI originally developed it.’

‘Why did I have to suggest such a wild-ass idea?’ Carol said out loud to herself.
‘Where’s your brain, Dawson? Did you leave it in the….’

‘Can you hear me?’ Nick’s garbled voice interrupted her. It sounded as if it were
coming from the bottom of a well.

‘Yes,’ Troy answered into a tiny walkie-talkie shaped like a thimble. ‘But not too
clearly. How deep are you?’

‘Say again,’ said Nick. ‘I did not copy completely.’

‘Yes, we can hear you,’ Troy shouted. He carefully enunciated each word. ‘But not
very clearly. You must speak slowly and distinctly. How deep are you?’

‘About eight feet,’ was the response.

‘Go down to sixteen and try it again,’ said Troy. ‘Let’s see if it will work from
the deepest part of the cave.’

‘How’s he doing that?’ Carol asked, while they waited for Nick to descend.

‘It’s a brand-new system, built into the regulator,’ Troy answered. ‘You have to speak
while you’re exhaling for it to work. There’s a small transmitter/receiver inside
the mouthpiece and an earphone attachment. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work much below
ten feet.’

Almost a minute later Carol and Troy heard something, very faint, not even recognizable
as Nick’s voice. Troy listened for a moment. ‘We cannot read you, Nick. There is too
much attenuation. Come on back now. I’m going to send Carol on her way.’ Troy pressed
a button on the walkie-talkie that would repeatedly transmit this last message.

He handed the communications unit to Carol. ‘Okay, angel,’ he said, ‘you’re ready.
We should be in the water around nine o’clock and out, if all goes well, by half an
hour later. Keep them occupied with your questions. You should leave by ten-thirty
at the latest and drive directly to Nick’s apartment. We will meet you there with
your wagon.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘And the gold, I hope.’

Carol took a deep breath. She smiled at Troy. ‘I’m scared,’ she said. ‘I would rather
face a carpet or even one of those warden things than this trio.’ She opened the car
door. ‘Do you really think I should go in Nick’s car? Isn’t that certain to make them
suspect something?’

‘We’ve been through all this twice before, angel,’ Troy laughingly replied. He gently
nudged her into the car. ‘They already know we’re friends. Besides, we need your wagon
for the diving gear, the backpacks, and the lead and gold.’ He closed the door and
planted a light kiss on her cheek through the open window. ‘Be safe, angel,’ he said.
‘And don’t take any unnecessary chances.’

Carol started the car and backed into the middle of the car park. She waved at Troy
and pulled into the dark lane that led through the marsh to the end of the island.
The only light was from the nearly full gibbous moon that was already above the trees.
All right, Dawson
, she thought to herself.
Now you’re in the middle of it. Just stay calm and alert
.

She drove very slowly. She reviewed the plans for the evening several times in her
mind. Then she started thinking about Nick.
He holds on to things. Like I do. He still hates Homer and Greta for cheating him.
He couldn’t wait to dive for the gold
. She smiled as she turned into the circular drive in front of Homer Ashford’s house.
I just hope there is some left over for him
.

A split second after Carol rang the doorbell, Homer opened the door and greeted her.
‘You’re late,’ he said in a pleasant monotone. ‘We thought maybe you were not coming.
Greta is already in the pool. Do you want to change and join her?’

‘Thanks, Captain Homer, but I decided not to swim tonight,’ Carol answered politely.
‘I appreciate the offer, but I’m mostly here on business. I would prefer to start
the interview as soon as possible. Even before dinner, if that would be all right
with everyone else.’

Homer led Carol into a gigantic family room and stopped by a large wet bar. A magnificent
hand-carved wooden statue of a swimming Neptune, about four feet long altogether,
was on the wall above the bar. Carol asked for some white wine. Homer tried without
success to talk her into something stronger.

The family room had a billiards table at one end. On the other side, a sliding glass
door opened on to a covered patio that narrowed into a cement walkway. Carol followed
Homer in silence, sipping from her white wine every twenty steps or so. The walkway
wound past big trees and a lighted gazebo off to the left before it spread out around
the huge swimming pool.

Actually there were two pools. In front of Carol was a classic, rectangular, Olympic-sized
pool under strong lights. At one end was a slide and waterfall that ran down an artificial
mountain into the swimming area. At the other end, in the direction of the second
pool and the ocean, there was a sunken Jacuzzi constructed out of the same decorated
blue tiles that rimmed the top of the main pool. The entire complex was cleverly designed
to create the impression of moving water. There seemed to be a steady flow from the
waterfall, to the large pool, down into the Jacuzzi, and then into a stream that meandered
off in the direction of the house.

The second pool was circular and dark. It was off to Carol’s left at the edge of the
property, near what looked like a small cottage for changing clothes. Greta was in
the rectangular pool in front of Carol. She was swimming laps, her powerful body moving
rhythmically through the water. Carol, who was an excellent swimmer herself, watched
Greta for a few seconds.

‘Isn’t she something?’ Homer walked over next to Carol. His admiration was obvious.
‘She won’t let herself eat a big meal unless she works out beforehand. She can’t stand
fat.’

Homer was wearing a light brown Hawaiian shirt with a pair of tan slacks. Brown loafers
were on his feet, and a big drink, crammed with ice cubes, was in his hand. He seemed
relaxed, even affable. Carol thought he could have passed for a retired banker or
corporate executive.

Greta continued to swim relentlessly through the water. Homer was hovering over Carol
and she was beginning to feel uncomfortable, as if her space were being invaded. ‘Where’s
Ellen?’ she asked, turning to the large man and moving just slightly farther away
from him.

‘She’s in the kitchen,’ Homer replied. ‘She loves to cook, especially when we have
guests. And tonight she’s making one of her favourite dishes.’ There was almost a
twinkle in his eye. He leaned down to Carol. ‘She made me promise not to tell you
what we’re having,’ he whispered confidentially, ‘but I will tell you that it’s a
powerful aphrodisiac.’

Ugh
, said Carol to herself as she caught a whiff of Homer’s breath and listened to his
leering chuckle.
How could I have forgotten how repulsive this man is? Does he really think that…
Carol stopped her thought. She reminded herself that people with excessive money
very often lose touch with reality.
Probably some of the women respond. For what he can give them
. She almost gagged. The thought of having any kind of sexual liaison with Homer was
totally repugnant.

Greta had finished swimming laps. She climbed out of the pool and dried herself off.
Her all-white racing uniform was like a transparent body stocking. Even from a distance,
Carol could not avoid seeing the full detail of her nipples and breasts as well as
her clump of pubic hair through the thin suit. She might as well have been naked.
Homer stood beside Carol, unabashedly staring as Greta strode across the cement.

‘No suit?’ Greta said just before she reached them. Her eyes were trying to bore holes
in Carol’s. Carol shook her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ said Greta. ‘Homer had hoped that we
might have a race.’ She looked at the captain with an odd expression that Carol did
not understand. ‘He loves to see women in competition.’

‘It would have been no contest,’ Carol answered. She thought she saw Greta tense.
‘You would have won easily,’ she added. ‘You swim beautifully.’

Greta smiled, accepting the compliment. Her eyes roamed over Carol’s body. She made
no effort to hide the fact that she was doing an appraisal. ‘You have a good body
too for swimming,’ Greta said. ‘Maybe a little too fat on the ass and upper legs.
I could suggest workout—’

‘Why don’t we show Miss Dawson the other pool?’ Homer interrupted. ‘Before you go
inside and change clothes.’ He started walking toward the little cottage near the
ocean. Without saying another word, Greta turned and followed him. Carol took a sip
from her wine.
Who knows what goes on here
, she thought.
Those three have not had to work for eight years. They take people out fishing and
diving for amusement
. A strange mixture of disgust and depression started to spread in her.
So they manufacture entertainment to keep from being bored
.

Moments after Homer entered the cottage, a bank of floodlights down underneath the
second pool was illuminated. Homer gestured for her to hurry and Carol skipped into
the cottage. They led her down a flight of steps. Under the ground was a walkway that
completely encircled the large glass aquarium that had looked, in the darkness, like
a second swimming pool. ‘We have six sharks now,’ Homer said proudly, ‘as well as
three red occi, a pair of cuttlefish, and of course hundreds of more standard species
of fish and plants.’

‘Occi?’ inquired Carol.

‘That’s the slang plural of octopus,’ Homer responded with a self-satisfied grin.
‘Actually, the correct plural is octopodes.’

Greta was standing with her face pressed against the glass. A couple of bat rays swam
past. She was waiting for something. After twenty seconds or so a greyish shark appeared.
The shark seemed to notice Greta and stopped, watching her, its face about five feet
away from the glass. Carol could see the long sharp teeth and identified it as a mako,
a fierce smaller cousin of the man-eating great white shark.

‘That’s Greta’s pet,’ said Homer. ‘His name is Timmy. Somehow she has trained him
to recognize her face against the glass.’ Homer watched a few more seconds. ‘From
time to time she goes in there to swim with him. When the sharks have finished eating,
of course.’

The shark remained in place, staring blankly in Greta’s direction. She began to drum
her fingers against the glass in regular cadence. ‘Now this is exciting,’ Homer said,
walking over next to Greta and the aquarium. ‘What you are going to see is what biologists
call a typical Pavlovian response. I’ve never seen it quite this way before in a shark.’