Chapter 97

The next day.

Time: Saturday, August 9, 2019 5:45 PM

Unknown to the man formerly known as Diego, his current position was almost exactly four kilometers due north of Hex Hall, the geometric center of the Great Hexagon. He also did not know that the barrier wall to his southwest continued onward, and that the nearby southernmost point was really a three-way junction point between the Black, Green, and Yellow Malls’ surface areas. What Doug did know was that he was approximately two kilometers north of the junction where two great walls met. He also knew not to attempt to cross the barriers.

Oh yes, he knew that. Many weeks ago, just after his first few days of surface wandering, Doug had stood on the boundary between the red and yellow cobblestones and had tested the ivy moats by throwing an empty food package filled with sand. Seconds later he turned and tripped as he fled across the yellow cobblestones, managing to stay only a few meters ahead of the seeking tendrils of the aroused plant. The experience still gave him nightmares, and he had a pretty good idea now of how Neto and the others in Gilberto’s posse must have died. Pistols would be useless against such a creature. Doug didn’t know the full destructive power of the plant, but he had no doubt about the sharpness of the thorny vines. He would be hard pressed to imagine a more horrible way to die.

Doug paused and took a deep drink, fully satisfying his thirst with the last of his water bottle as considered what to do next. It had been a typical day, the temperature peaking to just over 30C in mid afternoon and holding there for the last several hours. He clipped his empty bottle to his belt and then slowly stretched his arms, glancing at his watch as he did. Although darkness was making a comeback, the world was still a world full of light. The sun had risen at 3:35 AM this morning and he still had several more hours to wander before bedding down for the night.

But he was out of water now, and it made sense to replenish. Doug stretched again and sighed at his fate. He had accepted weeks ago when his food ran out that his wanderings no longer had purpose. There was no food available in the open areas, and Diego would not risk being trapped in a sterile building somewhere. He would die under the sun and stars. The hiking was just busy work, something to enjoy before starvation took away his ability to walk. At least he wouldn’t dry of dehydration. Doug was sure he wouldn’t like that. He figured he still had many days of walking ability left, maybe even weeks. Life was still worth living.

Doug turned southwest to admire the great orange sun, and for a moment he cracked a rare smile. For some unknown reason, he felt the sky was looking back at him. Shaking his head at his fantasy, he began walking into the sunset at an easy pace, heading towards his favorite watering hole. It wasn’t far, perhaps two kilometers and a bit along a very twisting path. There was an open-air veranda near the fountain. It was one of the better places to bed down for the night.

Meanwhile, 4 km to the south and 1.5 km below.

Down in Wobanakik it was the second day of autumn, the sun having risen at 6:15 AM this morning and setting in slightly less than a half hour. Lynn and Charles were currently the only two inhabitants of Manhattan and would remain so until Jada’s party of five returned late tomorrow afternoon. Early this morning the complete group of seven had a long planning session that started over breakfast and continued for almost an hour. At the close, they reversed an earlier decision about the entrance rooms and agreed to keep Manhattan as their primary residence.

The two consoles in the library there were just too valuable to give up. They could be used to control observation balloons at Wobanakik, across the surface of the Great Hexagon, and perhaps anywhere on the planet. The Society had plans tomorrow to risk one of their balloons on long-range reconnaissance, evaluating sites south of the equatorial pyramid as possible sanctuaries from Ricardo. Satellite imagery had already suggested several promising areas that were worth a ground-level look.

Fatima had a large calendar prominently displayed on a wall at the Hilton conference center with the date January 1, 2020 shaded in red. It was the date for the winter solstice both on the surface and for Wobanakik. It was also the date they might all become puppets of Ricardo, alive only until the evil puppet-master decided to cut their strings. Underneath the awful deadline, Fatima wrote a note that said, “Warning: Dates on this calendar are closer than they appear!” The Society had perhaps sixty-two days before their world lost all of its goodness.

Back at Wobanakik, Jada, Thara, Mandy, Oona and Abit were currently leaving the boathouse at the southern lake and heading to the entrance rooms. They had spent the day kayaking upriver and investigating two locations in the western highlands that Sandra and her team had originally planned to investigate today. Meanwhile Sandra, Parni, and Sachi were beginning their eight-day boost at the Bee Park, and keeping with tradition, Peggy and Alexis from the last boost team would stay with them as mentors for the next few days.

And at the central island of Manhattan, Lynn was controlling an observation balloon from her library console, having it hover a hundred meters above the boathouse and providing aerial support for Jada’s team below. It was easy work in the open area around the lake and Lynn was also having a friendly conversation with Alexis at the Bee Park. She would be lowering the balloon to ground level when Jada’s group reached the entrance rooms, and that’s where the balloon would spend the night.

Meanwhile Charles had a somewhat more complicated job. He was piloting an observation balloon between buildings in the southern Black Mall area, hopefully on target for a meeting with Diego. It had been a difficult choice for Jada to leave Charles at Manhattan. He had far more experience with pistols than Madison.

But Charles had proven to be a master in controlling the observation balloons, perhaps from his vast experience with game controllers, and last night the Society had agreed to contact Diego only if the balloon could absolutely not be seen from Ricardo’s complex. Charles was the best person to fulfill that promise, and he was also the person that knew Diego best from their time back at Burlington.

Charles studied his displays intently as he guided the balloon. For a few minutes he had real-time satellite imagery of the Black Mall area and the location and direction of Diego established. In a second window on his monitor, Charles had the real-time video from the observation balloon. It really was a perfect set-up. The winds were very mild today up on the surface. Lynn had commented several times this afternoon what an easy time Charles was having compared to how her own balloon was being buffeted.

Charles felt very confident he knew were Diego was heading, the large fountain area in the southernmost region of Black Mall. And even though linear sunset was fast approaching down here at Wobanakik, back on the surface there was still lots of daylight left. Perfect.

Charles rocked his neck back and forth to stretch and guided his balloon with an easy hand, maintaining a steady two-meter separation between the ground and the bottom of the assembly. Just the slightest touch on the controller, and the balloon went exactly where he wanted it to go. In his mind Charles rehearsed what he wanted to say to an old friend.

Time: Saturday, August 9, 2019 6:24 PM

Two hours before sunset, Doug turned the last corner on his path and stood shock still. Hovering above the fountain was ... What the hell was that?! Some kind of huge balloon with a toy airplane hanging underneath? After a few seconds of study, Doug decided the contraption looked too ridiculous to be dangerous, but he also knew from his experience with the ivy that appearances could be very deceiving. Should he avoid this thing?

What the hell for? If it were going to kill him, let it happen. After a final moment to recheck his decision, Doug finished his journey and reached the edge of the fountain. The bottom of the balloon was about four meters in front of him across the fountain and three meters above the level of the water.

The water in the fountain was deep, swimmable in fact, over a meter, so the balloon assembly was effectively out of reach. But Doug could probably hit it with his water bottle if he wanted to. He stared into the wide-angle lens at the bottom of the assembly, thinking “Man, this thing sure looks stupid, but it’s probably doing a damn good job of taking my picture right now. Uh, is that a video camera?” Doug pondered his situation while he filled his two large water bottles, his eyes never leaving the hovering contraption. After he clipped the bottles to his belt, he blurted out a question. “Hello?”

“Hi, Diego,” came a cheerful reply.

Doug jumped. That sounded like... “Chico?! Is that you, compadre?!”

“The one and only. But I’ve given up on Chico and the compadre shit. I’m Charles now.”

“Yeah? What a coincidence. You can call me Doug.” Doug realized his heart was racing and he tried to slow himself down. “So, how’s it going, man?”

“Oh, I’m okay, but maybe ... Could we talk about you for awhile? You look...” Charles blinked as he took a hard look at the man before him. “Hell, Doug! You’re not skin and bones, but you’re not far from it. You getting enough to eat?”

Doug gave a mirthless laugh. “I’m not getting anything to eat. My food ran out ... Uh, four days after the day with the midnight sun. And I was stretched thin on one-quarter rations long before that.”

“What?! Oh shit! Stand by...” A full minute went by in silence, Doug spending most of the time in deep thought while staring at the floating camera. “Okay, I’m back,” Charles finally announced. “Doug, before we go any further, I should tell you, there are others watching this video with me, and you are been recorded. You deserve to know that.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that, at least about the other people. Charles, are you a free man?”

Charles did not want to reveal much of anything about the Society, not yet, not until he understood a lot more about the man centered on his monitor. But this particular question deserved an answer. “I am. Seriously, I really am. No fucking bullshit about on my honor as a compadre either. I really mean it. I’m free, and I’m doing exactly what I want to do, now and every time else.”