Micro - Michael Crichton [141]
“It doesn’t make sense,” Karen said.
“Sheer panic,” Rick said.
Vin Drake sat in his car. The beam from the lighthouse swung around above, shining through the branches of trees overhead. The moon washed the scene with silver. What a beautiful world it truly was. He felt almost placid. He was high above the world, walking on a tightrope and doing it well.
A black pickup swung in and parked next to Drake. Drake got out and climbed into the truck. He explained the situation to Makele. “He’s in the air. He knows a cure for the bends. He’s going to tell me when he lands.”
“Then?” Makele asked.
Drake didn’t answer. He put on the radio headset and began calling, staring up toward the mountains. “Daniel? Daniel, are you there?”
He heard nothing but a hiss of airwaves. He turned to Makele. “Watch for his running lights. Red and green, very small.”
“What are you going to do with the kid?” Makele asked.
Drake ignored him. “Wind’s blowing from Tantalus. He should be here any minute.”
A car swung into the parking area. Drake snatched the radio off his head and stared. “Check it.”
Makele edged closer to the parked car and saw a couple inside getting friendly with each other. He told Drake there was nothing to worry about.
Drake resumed calling, but with no answer. Cars passed, and the lighthouse beam circled many times. The couple in the parked car went out of sight. The two men stared up into the sky, trying to see any lights against the backdrop of stars. “Little Danny was lying,” Drake remarked.
“About what?”
“About a cure for bends.” Lying to make me save him. Ha.
They listened for the whine of a micro-plane. Don Makele saw that the wind was blowing pretty hard. If they didn’t see the kid, he’d get blown out to sea. Drake removed something from the trunk of the sports car and placed it in the back of the pickup truck. Then he said: “I’m giving you three more shares. Now you’ve got seven shares. That brings your net worth to seven million.”
The security man grunted. Then he said: “What do we do with the kid?”
“Question him.” Drake tapped on the radio headset. It could communicate with micro-humans.
“After that?”
Drake didn’t reply for a bit. Then he leaned against the pickup truck and slapped his palm on the metal. Gazing into the sky, he murmured, “The bugs are bad tonight.”
“I see,” Makele said.
The two men watched a while longer. Makele backed up a few steps, moving alongside the truck, and glanced at the object Drake had placed on the bed of the truck. It was a plastic fuel container. He could smell the gasoline.
Drake called some more, finally ripped off his headset. “Mr. Minot had an accident. Or he changed his mind.” He got into the pickup truck and handed the keys of his sports car to Don Makele.
“What do you want me to do with your car, sir?”
“Drop it at Nanigen. Take a taxi home.”
Drake started the truck and it roared off on the Diamond Head Road. As he watched the headlights disappear, Makele shook his head.
Chapter 45
Rourke’s Redoubt
1 November, 1:00 a.m.
Karen and Rick were curled up inside the magnet, waiting out the night.
“We’re the last ones,” Karen said.
Rick smiled thinly. “I didn’t figure we’d end up together, Karen.”
“What did you figure?”
“Well, I thought you’d survive. Not me,” he said.
“How are you feeling?” she asked him.
“Perfect.” That was a lie. His face had become streaked with bruises, and his joints ached.
As Karen studied Rick’s bruises, it made her wonder what she looked like. I probably look like I’ve been mugged, she thought. “You need to get into the generator, Rick.”
He glanced at her face in the firelight. “You, too.”
“Listen, Rick—” How to tell him about what she’d decided? Just be blunt. “I’m not going back.”
“What?”
“I’m going to be okay, I think.”
“What?”
“I’m not flying to Nanigen. I’m going to take my chances here.”
They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, wrapped in blankets and looking into the dying embers of the fire. She could feel his body going tense; and he turned and stared at her. “What are you talking