AmEarth
Chapter 25

In the SOI café, overlooking Wellington Bay, Sergio Ramirez-Bulatov sat contemplating the body of water through its huge glass windows. The recent victory for him and Peter had given him precious time and he was more relaxed than ever before. Sailboats shuffled right and left across the bay as he waited for Robbie and Marianne. He didn’t need to follow Peter any further on his trip and had no real desire to continue the speech tour. The contact lenses worked marvelously and as long as Peter wore them before leaving for any speaking engagements, he would be fine. Sergio took out his wafer and spoke into it.

“Call Rosita.”

Soon, the wafer showed a picture of Rosita, his secretary, on the line.

“Hello, Mr. Ramirez?” Rosita replied in her accented English.

“Si, Rosa. Soy yo. Quiero que me haga un favor,” Sergio said in perfect Spanish.

“Yes?”

“Quiero que me mandes el “Queen” a Nueva Zelandia, a Wellington. A la brevedad.”

With that single phone call, Sergio had ordered his sailboat and crew to be sailed halfway around the world to New Zealand from Long Island. The longer the boat took to arrive, the better, as spending time with his girls had become his first priority. His life had literally changed overnight. He called Peter next.

“Sergio, where are you? We need to go. The winds are increasing, and they say gusts here could prevent departure. The pilots want to leave.” Peter spoke urgently.

“That’s why I’m calling.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in a cafe, waiting for Robbie and Marianne. I can’t go with you, Peter.”

“Finish your reunion and come to the airstrip.”

“No, Mr. President. I already sent for my boat. You can go on without me.”

“What about the rest of the tour? I need you, Sergio. The lenses and the speeches!”

“Peter, all you need to do is put them in on speech days. You tolerated them perfectly. Just take them off later so that people don’t figure it out. Remember, at night, pupils get bigger, so be careful.”

“Sergio, you’re nuts. When will you be back?”

“I think we’ll arrive back in New York at about the same time as you. Try to understand what I’m going through here. Please. You have a daughter, after all.”

“I guess that’s true,” Peter admitted.

“You’ll be fine. Just keep your eyes open for Chen’s next move.”

“I’ll do that. Enjoy your time with them.”

Sergio hung up. At that moment Marianne, Robbie, and Scott entered the cafe and immediately headed toward Sergio. Scott sped up to reach him first and spoke quietly to him.

“I hope you don’t mind that I tagged along when I saw them in the hotel,” Scott said.

“Your dad is leaving right now. Does he know you’re here?” Sergio said.

“No.”

“Well, you need to call him right now. He’ll be looking for you,” Sergio insisted as he pulled out a chair for Robbie, who had arrived at the table.

“I’m not scheduled to go with him. I have a separate flight back to New York, so he said that I could stay for a few more days,” Scott explained.

“Hey you,” Robbie said.

“Hey yourself,” Sergio replied with a smile.

“Hello…Dad,” Marianne spoke, still hesitating with the new word in her mouth.

“Hi, sweetie.” Sergio turned to Scott. “When are you going back?”

“Day after tomorrow,” Scott answered.

“Cool.”

The afternoon meal was pleasant, although Scott couldn’t figure out why Marianne was being so cold to him. He tried to be funny and smart, but she treated him like he had the measles. The only subject that somewhat sparked her interest was his father, much to his dismay. He was determined to be his own man and wanted to connect with people because of who he was, not because of his father. However, her cold shoulder was relentless.

“Tell me, Scott, how did your father end up being supreme president?” Marianne asked.

“Well, I think Sergio knows more about that than I do. Why don’t you explain to Marianne how my dad got to where he is?”

“The answer is simple. He was facially recognized by the masses, and he was qualified to do the job. The supercomputer provided his name after assessing thousands of senior-ranking officials with hundreds of parameters, one of which was popularity. Frankly, your father was well thought of by a lot people. He reported on foreign affairs for AmEarth and the powers that be decided that he was a good communicator. He polled well. You know that politics is all about perception. That’s why I can’t be president. Some of us are too good-looking, so we poll badly.”

Scott laughed.

“He is handsome, though,” Marianne said.

“Yes, he is,” Robbie agreed.

“Were you considered, Dad?” Marianne asked.

“What? Of course not…I told you, I’m much too handsome for that job,” Sergio joked.

“All kidding aside though, you’re a senior-ranking official, right?” Marianne asked.

“I’m in a different category, though. I’m not a public figure, and my work is top secret.” Sergio lowered his voice on that final phrase.

Scott felt supremely insecure, but Marianne thought his father was handsome, which gave him a bit of confidence, as they did look very much alike. All his life he had been badgered by aunts and uncles, teachers, and friends about this similarity, but it was finally a good thing. An emotion he had always felt for Cate had surfaced, but this time it was directed toward Marianne, despite barely knowing her. It seemed to grow stronger and more painful by the hour, like increasingly hard punches to the gut.

The “second honeymoon” of Sergio and Robbie was fast becoming overwhelmingly romantic for both Marianne and Scott. He did not know how to approach Marianne to ask her to spend some time alone with him. Finally, he mustered up the courage and asked her.

“Marianne, do you want to go for a drive or something? I’d hate to go back to America without seeing the sights.”

“I don’t know,” Marianne said warily.

“Come on, I don’t know anyone in this whole country. Please?”

Marianne got up. “Only if you explain some things to me about AmEarth.”

“What do you want to know?” Scott said, standing up from the table, curious about what she would ask him. Perhaps she would ask things he might know about that weren’t on the public record.

“Mom? We’re going for a drive, okay?” Marianne asked.

“Sure, honey,” Robbie said and looked back at Sergio as they returned to gazing at one another.

“I thought they would never leave,” Sergio whispered and kissed Robbie long and hard.

As they walked to the entrance of the restaurant, Scott realized that his security personnel were waiting for him outside. He stopped Marianne.

“Marianne. I can’t just leave and get in your car,” Scott said.

“What? Why?” Marianne asked, confused.

“We’ll be followed. And I’m tired of the whole security detail thing. I want to leave, but I don’t want us to be followed.”

“Okay…how about I just leave alone, get in the car and drive away? You go back inside and leave from the side door. Then walk along the water. There’s a small sidewalk that hugs the water, so just avoid being seen between the restaurant and the next building. Go down to the corner of the sidewalk, and I’ll be there waiting by the townhouses.”

“Perfect.”

Scott walked to the rear of the restaurant near the toilets and found the exit to the little sidewalk Marianne had mentioned. He turned left and followed it to the first gap between the wooden buildings. He peered back and saw the Secret Service agents eyeing Marianne as she started her antique VW convertible. It was clear that she was alone, so they didn’t notice Scott run the twenty-foot distance to the cover of the adjacent building. From there, he walked on the sidewalk beside the water to the road where Marianne was waiting. She had gotten there only a minute or so before him. He jumped in without opening the door, and they sped off.

“Whew…I love this,” Scott announced, grinning.

“Freedom is new to you?” Marianne said.

“You have no idea.”

“Try me.”

“Imagine that one day you’re no longer alone. Ever. Besides the bathroom—I think,” he chuckled.

“Seems overwhelming.”

“It is. Whooooweeee!” Scott screamed as he stood up on the shotgun seat of the clunker.

Marianne drove fast around Oriental Parade Road, which hugged the waterline and rapidly merged into Cable Road. She looked at her watch, as though she was in a hurry.

”Where are we going?” Scott questioned, although he hardly cared about the answer.

“Picton. If we make it,” she replied.

“What’s Picton?”

“Freedom.”

“Make it? What do you mean, ‘if we make it’?”

“The ferry leaves in five minutes.”

“Where?”

“There.”

Marianne pointed to a large blue and white ship that had an entrance port for vehicles at its rear. She sped directly onto the ramp and made it with a full two minutes to spare. Their car was in the last row of cars on the Bluebridge Ferry.

“Let me see your wafer,” Marianne asked Scott.

“Why?” Scott asked, intrigued, but pleased that things seemed to be going better.

“Do you trust me?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Then give me your wafer.” Marianne flashed that gorgeous smile of hers.

Scott handed his wafer to her, and she got out of the car gently, watching that he did the same. The ferry disconnected from the port, and the road to access the ferry was blocked by the safety barrier. No other cars had arrived. A little less than fifteen minutes had passed since they had left the SOI cafe. The Secret Service agents were probably still outside the cafe waiting for Scott and Sergio.

As the ferry slowly started to move, Marianne looked at the wafer, pretending to be interested as she walked along the railing. With her fingernail, she deftly opened the sealed plastic cap that made the device water-resistant and immediately dropped it into Wellington Bay.

“You wanted to be free. Here is your chance,” Marianne said proudly.

“Are you crazy? I need that!” Scott practically shouted.

“Come on, you’ve never lost one before?”

“Actually, no.”

“Well, now you can see what that part of life feels like.”

Scott was furious, but Marianne was too beautiful for him to hold onto that emotion. He was playing hooky and things felt weirdly right.

“Okay, so how long is this boat ride?” Scott asked.

“Only three-and-a-half hours,” Marianne said.

“What! Are you nuts? Where are we going?”

“The south island. Where I live.”

The ferry moved quite quickly, and the movement soon became noticeable, causing them to hold on to the railings.

“Let’s go up to the front. The air is cleaner, and I won’t get seasick up there,” Marianne said.

“Okay.” Scott followed her up the stairs to the front terrace, where there was a bar serving huge pints of beer.

“Let’s sit over here.” Marianne pointed to a pair of deck chairs on the outdoor part of the ferry.

The view was stunning. Scott felt like New Zealand had opened its arms to him.

“So tell me, Scott, do you believe in the alien threat?” Marianne asked.

“No,” Scott said.

“But your father does. Doesn’t he?”

Scott was silent for a moment, but he was pretty thrilled with this little adventure with a beautiful woman, and didn’t want to ruin it before it even started.

“I don’t know if I should say this to you, but I’m not sure if he does, either. You obviously don’t, but you haven’t told me why.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m just curious. Explain.”

“My dad is the artist who created the aliens. How could I believe they are real?”

“Did Sergio tell you that?”

“No. But I know.”

“How?”

“It’s obvious to us. You’re a horrible poker player, by the way. That grin…really!” Marianne said.

“So I gave it away?” Scott broke down and laughed to himself.

“Ages ago.”

“Do you know a man named Pat Jackson? He’s friends with an astronomer,” Scott asked.

“You know Pat Jackson?” Marianne seemed very surprised at this sudden name-drop.

“No, and yes. Sort of…I know someone who knows him and I was partly involved in the safekeeping of a document about Kepler 3763. It’s kind of a long story.”

“What? Does your father know about this? Did Pat give it to you?” Marianne became deadly serious and her questions rattled off fast and hot. Scott was surprised at her sudden interest.

“Oh…no, no. I gave it back to Mr. Landon a long time ago.”

“Scott, you have to tell me what’s going on…I have so many questions.” Her voice had taken on a somewhat sultry, pleading tone, and it sounded wonderful to Scott’s ears.

Scott stared at the sea as it hugged the two shorelines ahead and smirked. She was engaged with him…finally.

“What do you want to know?” Scott said.

“Well, if AmEarth’s alien threat is a hoax, then how can you stand to hear lies and deception around you all the time? Don’t you hate your father? And the government?” Marianne’s voice was rising, and some other people on the ferry started to notice.

“Relax! Don’t get all worked up.”

“Are you nuts?”

“People are staring, Marianne. Please, let me explain.”

She stopped speaking for a moment and took a deep breath. In her mind, all she could think about was getting Scott to Oliver Cook’s house, but this conversation was distracting her.

“This whole thing is huge,” Scott began calmly, “so it’s hard to understand. I barely do.”

“I’m calm, okay. But just tell me one thing. How can you live with yourself?” Marianne asked harshly.

“I know what you’re thinking. I used to be that way, too, until I realized that the AmEarth conquest is inevitable and possibly necessary. Do you really think a solitary group of intellectuals can really turn back the tide?”

“It’s worth a try.” Marianne practically spat the words at him.

“It’s too late. I’m sorry. This whole thing is bigger than you can imagine. I thought that I could change things, but if the upper levels of the government know that it’s a hoax, then you can imagine how fiercely they’ll fight to stop any dissent.”

“But it’s evil…”

“I’m not so sure it is,” Scott replied.

“Of course not. You’re American.”

“I don’t think that’s fair. There is a greater good behind uniting humans for a common purpose, isn’t there?”

Marianne felt a flash of remorse. She couldn’t blame Scott for the existence of AmEarth, and she didn’t really dislike him. She had actually begun to like him a bit; there was a wild, rebellious side to him with which she identified. After all, he had come with her on the ferry, and he hadn’t really freaked out about the phone for long. At any minute, the Secret Service would be scrambling to find them, but he didn’t seem all that worried. Scott’s eyes were a bit bloodshot and Marianne wondered what was wrong.

“I guess. Maybe…” she replied finally. “Listen, Scott, I’m sorry. I know that this isn’t your fault. Are you okay?” Marianne asked compassionately.

“What do you mean?” Scott asked.

“Your eyes are bloodshot, and you look a bit sick.”

“It’s just the jet lag. I’m so sleepy that I can barely stand.”

“Well, take a seat. I think we should have a beer.”

Marianne went to the bar, ordered two pints of cold Kiwi beer and returned to the table. Scott downed his beer like water and leaned back, quickly falling into what became a three-hour slumber. He was awakened by the angelic face of Marianne and her red hair; the light glancing through it looked like a sunset. He felt spaced-out but happy, and behind her head, he saw the actual sun setting behind the tree-covered hills of Picton Bay. He stood up and looked around at the beautiful bay overflowing with yachts. It was probably the prettiest bay he had ever seen, with crystal-clear water stretching into countless inlets. The mountains and hills surrounding the pristine water were covered in luscious emerald vegetation. The ferry was nearly empty, as the boat had already docked.

“Time to go, sleepyhead,” Marianne said.

“Okay, right,” he answered groggily.

In the belly of the huge ferry, the cars were all gone except for Marianne’s car, way in the back. They got in and drove off as though they were starting a race. Marianne didn’t look back and headed straight for the highway. Picton was gone, and although Scott would’ve liked to see more of it, the opportunity passed and they sped down Highway 1 on the East Shore, heading for the unknown night.

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