The two black vehicles left Proxima City through the busy highway and went down the southwest route, the opposite direction Adam and Malin had taken to the desert to train.
Adam tilted his head back and looked at the other off-road car that was following close behind. How many men in gray could be in there? Was Gabor with them?
“Thank you in advance for what you’re doing,” Halstein said.
“The pleasure is ours. Don’t worry,” Malin replied, sharply.
They spent much of the journey in complete silence, and the tension in the air only grew and grew until it became unbearable.
Trying to satisfy his urge to break the anxiety, Adam was about to open his mouth to ask something related to Kappa radiation or whatever first came to mind; hearing someone talk, anyone, could help him achieve this. But he caught the look Rune Halstein was giving him in the rearview mirror and pursed his lips.
“Keep quiet and you’ll do better,” Juzo told him.
In the almost three hours that the trip lasted, there was a decrease in the number of vehicles transiting the route and a radical change in the landscape. The vegetation on the sides of the pavement had unveiled itself almost magically, leaving the desert plains behind. First, there had been patches of dry grass on the arid land; then, that yellowish carpet became a green weed, and as the miles passed by, the undergrowth turned into a wilderness.
On the other hand, the tingling that stirred Adam’s intestines was gone. He was no longer so angry, and his nerves weren’t treating him so harshly. He was restless, yes, but more eager to finish what he had to do and return to the big city than he was afraid of what might await him in the small town.
The vehicle’s clock marked 11:10 a.m. when both vehicles left the main route and took a detour. Through a dirt road, raising clouds of dust, they traveled about three or four miles and arrived at a little town forgotten by the passage of time.
Until that day, Adam had only heard about Black Plateau once or twice in his entire life, and now, upon seeing it, he knew why. The populated area did not exceed two blocks. The houses were humble buildings surrounded by dirt and stone streets, with a precarious power line attached to wooden poles.
At least these people know what artificial light is, and they may even have air conditioning in their houses, he thought. There were no flying drones, or parking meter robots, much less a Cyclops. He only managed to see a couple of cars with decades on them, forgotten in a corner, and an old motorcycle.
Some locals, attracted by the soft purr of the engines, peered out onto the street to watch the black cars pass by as if they were a rare spectacle. While others, who were sitting on the porch of their houses, under the shade of thatch eaves bent by the weight of the sun, observed them with little interest. A group of children playing ball paused their game and greeted them with joy.
Adam paid attention to the way they looked at them and felt like an alien.
The two Black 20.18s left the village behind and faced an imposing wild mural. One after the other, they penetrated a narrow path surrounded by tall palm trees, pink trumpet trees, laurels, and monkey puzzle trees, and entered the forest for almost a mile, until they ended up in a hidden plain in the thicket.
“This is our base of operations,” Halstein announced.
To Malin, the term base of operations sounded quite exaggerated; she was so used to the deployment the Markabian Army made every time they had to occupy an area for whatever mission it was, that a camp, well set up, though nothing out of the ordinary, was far from meeting her expectations. Four large cloth tents, which had lost their original white color thanks to the soil and the constant punishment of humidity; three dark, unmarked vans parked next to chemical toilets, a bulldozer and a backhoe with which, she supposed, they had opened the road they had just crossed; and two Cyclops androids dressed in brown jumpsuits, standing next to the huge vehicles, surely waiting for someone to order them to drive them again.
At a glance, she counted about four people scattered around the area, dressed in comfortable clothing for jungle exploration—shirts, shorts, hats, and boots ready to make their way through swampy areas—collecting soil samples and placing them in the containers of some drones, which then traveled to the tents and deposited them at the entrance for others to collect them.
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There were also some men in gray guarding different flanks of the clearing, although everything was so quiet that it gave the impression they were out of place.
“I don’t see this Ita-Hu-thing anywhere,” Adam observed.
“We set up our base of operations away from it,” Halstein said. “Kappa radiation may not be more harmful than UV, even so, if you go to the beach you use sun protection, especially if the exposure will be prolonged, right?”
“I see.”
The driver stopped the engine, and Halstein got out of the vehicle.
Adam and Malin were behind him, but as they set foot outside the car, the tropical climate fell upon them with all its weight, along with a barrage of wild noises ranging from the twittering of the birds to the screeching of the monkeys and other animals.
The humidity, though—Damn! It was almost as palpable as the air plants that hung from the trees.
The second off-road car, which had come after them, parked away from them, next to the other vehicles; and for the moment, none of its passengers got out. Wonderful choice, boys. Take advantage of the comfort of air conditioning while you can, Malin thought and took off her denim jacket. Looked down at her feet and thought Adam might have been right to mention the clothing subject before leaving Proxima. Now that she was immersed in a wild world, it no longer seemed such a good idea to have come with the heeled boots.
Adam also took off his tracksuit jacket and ran his hand across his forehead; he was already sweating.
And then Halstein walked past them, indifferent and loose. He hadn’t unbuttoned his suit or loosened his tie; he was the only one who got through the stifling atmosphere without a drop of sweat on his face. How he was able to look so superb in an air-conditioned office, as well as in the middle of a tropical forest with a hell of weather, was a mystery to Adam.
One of the workers came out of the main tent and went to greet them with a funny lightness in his walk.
He was a skinny white man with bulging blue eyes, who endured the heaviness of the weather for the sake of his work. He was sweaty and smelled like he hadn’t had a shower in days. A whitish beard peeked out on his skinny and red from the sun cheeks, and on his shirt, there were sweat-sparked halos that spread from his armpits to his scrawny chest. He carried a notebook under his arm—a notebook that Adam wouldn’t touch even if he got paid—and between his long, bony fingers, a pen.
“That human pin must be Gabor,” Adam whispered to Malin.
“District chief, good to see you!” the man greeted Halstein with a handshake and then turned to them.
Adam dismissed his assumption; this guy’s voice didn’t sound gangly or forced.
“I’m Dr. David Anderson from the Geo-biology Department of the Satellite Agency,” the man presented himself, and somewhat eagerly, turned to Adam. “So, you are the volunteer who will help us with the Ita-Hu.”
Adam faked a polite smile.
“Volunteer?” he said and was tempted to add, ‘My ass!’
Malin stepped forward. “Dr. Anderson, could you give us our insulating suits, please? And tell us where the rock is, so we can get this over with.”
The scientist looked at her, confused.
“We only have two suits,” he said, “and are reserved for Mr. White and me.” He chuckled nervously and glanced at Halstein as if waiting for him to clarify the situation to the young lady.
Halstein said nothing.
Anderson cleared his throat.
“I’m the scientist in charge of the operation,” he said. “I need to go with Mr. White to collect the sample. I hope you understand.”
Adam looked at them expectantly; anxiety kissing the pit of his stomach again. He didn’t like the idea of going alone to do whatever he had to do.
Malin put her arms on her hips. With such an organization and technology, did the agency have only two insulating suits? That sounded like an excuse for Adam to go with only one of them, leaving her out of the operation. The Satellite Agency was an institution considered serious, at least so far; it was doubtful they had a macabre plan to harm Adam, however…
“I’ll go with you two to collect the sample,” she said, “with or without a suit.”
Anderson refused, trying to be as respectful as possible, and looked back at Halstein; his boss was still mute, though.
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” he said then. “You must take into account the pollutants of the Ita-Hu.”
The word pollutants made Adam’s hair stand on end, and it made Malin put a hand up.
“Halstein told us that Kappa radiation is not harmful if—”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Anderson hastened to clarify the issue. “But the suits are not necessary to avoid radiation, but for what may be inside the Ita-Hu. The exterior of the rock is harmless, however, inside there may be contaminants, and we must take the necessary precautions when Mr. White does the drilling.”
“Well, in that case, Mr. White and I will collect the fragment.” Malin crossed her arms; she wasn’t willing to give in. “You and your scientists can stay here. How hard can it be to splinter a rock and put the little piece in a container?” she questioned.
“I thought I made myself clear,” Adam said, and ignoring Anderson, faced Halstein and grabbed his partner by the shoulder. “She will be part of this operation. I’m not going anywhere if it’s not with her.”
For the third time, the sweaty David Anderson pivoted toward the flawless and dark Rune Halstein, asking him to disallow their demand.
“Mr. Anderson,” the District Chief finally said. “Miss Viveka will be Mr. White’s escort.”
Adam and Malin were satisfied.
With the back of his dusty hand, Anderson wiped the sweat off his sharp nose and nodded with a shaking just like the pecking of a woodpecker. Judging by the dark circles the guy had under his eyes, the sweltering weather and lack of sleep were annihilating him.
“All right, all right,” Anderson said, and snorting, he took them to his tent. “Follow me.”