As she came onto the freeway, Julia called her ISS control unit and left a message that said, “Arcadia checking in. Rooster is on schedule. Gamecock. Surfing.” The code words meant that Luke had left on time, the device was planted, and she was on her way out.
A couple of miles farther south, she pulled into a service area to fill up with gas. She decided it would be a good time to eat too, rather than stop again later. On her way into the coffee shop by the gas station, she threw her regular domestic phone into the trash bin by the door. That part of her life was over now.
* * *
Warren found Henry in the kitchen, doing something with the program of the autochef. Henry was looking worried, but Warren was too flustered to notice. “Henry, drop that and come this way. I’ve got a problem.” Warren led the way back through to the garage, then waved a hand around. “There’s supposed to be a black suitcase here somewhere. I’ve looked all over. You were in here a few minutes ago. Have you seen it?”
“I loaded all the bags into the Cadillac,” Henry said. “Julia’s orders.”
Warren looked around, as if noticing for the first time that it was gone. “Where’d she go?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t say. But she was acting strange. Packed. Gone. I don’t know what it’s all about.”
Impossible thoughts raced through Warren’s mind. “All the bags?” he repeated.
“That’s what she said. The mood she was in, I wasn’t asking questions. Why? Is something wrong?”
Warren thought frantically, then went out into the yard and called Luke’s number from his pocket phone. “Hello?” Luke’s voice answered.
“Luke, it’s Warren. We may have trouble. There isn’t any black suitcase in the garage. Henry says he put it in the Cadillac with a bunch of other stuff of Julia’s that he just loaded. She’s gone.”
“Gone? Where to?”
“We don’t know. She’s blown. Taken off. She was set to go right after you left. Henry says she was acting strange.” Warren paused, but there was no immediate response. “What does it mean?” he asked finally. The silence persisted for a long time, as if Luke were wrestling with all manner of imponderables. “Luke?” Warren prompted.
“Don’t worry about it,” Luke’s voice said at last. “Just leave everything to me.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
IT WAS DIFFERENT FROM the last time he had looked down over Los Angeles from an incoming flight, Vrel reflected. Then, he had been traveling on official business for the Hyadean authorities, returning to their West Coast office of the United States. This time he was a renegade seeking asylum at an unofficial enterprise in a new, rebellious Federation gearing up for war. He really had no comprehension of the political and economic tangles that had led up to it, he realized. Perhaps he was still only at the beginnings of understanding anything about Earth and its squabbling, disorganized, variously colored natives.
In the window seat next to Vrel in the First Class section, Luodine stared out, looking for signs of the war. After her experiences in Brazil, she hadn’t been sure what to expect, but Los Angeles still looked very much the way it had when she last visited. They had been fortunate in getting a flight into the Federation at all. Many airlines had suspended operations because of the military risks. The morning had seen a major attack by air-launched missiles on the naval installations in San Diego, farther south, which the Federation had taken over. Also, Union aircraft had been allowed across Mexican air space to lay mines and other underwater devices at points along the West Coast. The Federation was reinforcing its southern border. Luodine looked to the future with a mixture of excitement that the big story she had been working toward was about to break here, and trepidation as to what it might entail.
In the row in front, Nyarl was despondent that at the end of it all, nothing they did would have any measurable impact on Chryse. The control over what Hyadeans were told was too effective. What had Luodine and he been thinking to imagine they could change it? They had become too distracted by what they had seen on Earth, and then in their minds projected it into Chryse. But Chryse was not Earth. The flyer had given them a direct connection to Chryse before they had to leave it at Quito. The documentary that they made at Tevlak’s had not been aired there. The director of the agency that Luodine and Nyarl represented had balked when he saw it and requested guidance from the authorities. That meant it never would get aired. Oh yes, Luodine would get her story here. And nobody would ever get to see it.