Comfortably ensconced in a cushioned chair in the uppermost cabin
of the yacht’s superstructure, Maximus put down a cup of tea from
which he had been sipping. Tinted acrylic windows bordering the oval
room along its perimeter provided a three hundred and sixty-degree
unobstructed view of the sea in all directions. Casually, he turned his
head to take in the small village nestled along the shoreline three miles
distant. A soft halo of pink silvery light crowned the steep hills behind
it, imparting a fairytale-like setting to the scene. Studying it briefly, he
brought his gaze back to Amphitrite. “What is your relationship to the
children?” he asked.
Amphitrite kept her gaze fixed and unwavering as she looked
into Maximus’ soulless, ruthless eyes, sensing a burning cauldron of
impatience lurking just below the surface. Thankfully, Zimbola had
trusted her insights enough by not putting up any resistance against
the boarding party sent from the Numquam Satis that had stormed
aboard the Angel nine hours earlier. And though he and the rest of them
were now prisoners, she sensed none of them had as yet been harmed.
For the moment, she would appease the man sitting before her by
answering his questions truthfully. Something deep inside her told her
this was the appropriate action to take. “I am their grandmother,” she
willingly admitted.
Maximus stared, finding this hard to believe. The woman looked far
too youthful and attractive to be a grandmother, appearing to be in her
mid-thirties at most. Either she was one of those rare individuals able to
resist the ravages of time, or she had assumed the role of grandmother
in name only without having any genetic relationship to the children.
“Their biological grandmother?” Maximus questioned, testing the
full context of her assertion.
“Yes.”
Deciding to accept her claim, he lifted the cup to his lips again, seeming to smile subtly before putting it back down. “Their grandmother,” he uttered with satisfaction. “That is most convenient!”
Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on the table and tented his
fingers. “Then I’ll have to assume you are also the biological mother of
the Dolphin Girl.”
“Yes.”
He turned his head again to scrutinize the village once more. “You
and your people have made great strides over the last several years,
obviously accomplishing the impossible. But tell me, how is it that a
small contingent of seemingly simple and impoverished Haitians was
able to get the funding for such a grand undertaking?”
“I sense fear within you,” Amphitrite murmured softly. “The thought
of more sea colonies coming on line scares the daylights out of you. You
see them as an impediment to your own insidious interests.”
Maximus smirked wolfishly. “Not at all. I actually applaud your efforts in succeeding to build such a thriving enterprise. It was a monumental undertaking. Unfortunately, you will soon discover those efforts were all in vain once a UN task force seizes your operation. Control of it, including all its assets, will then fall to me, at least indirectly.”
Maximus paused for effect, enjoying the moment before going on.
“Building an operation of that scale had to have cost Tursiops at least
one hundred billion in U.S. currency, yet I know for a fact not one bank,
corporation or other entity on the face of the earth provided the funding
to build it, nor would they have risked financing it had you applied for
loans. This led me to conclude that your people used something to
barter with, and that something had to be gold. Through various sources
I have learned this to be true. The question is, where did you get such a
huge quantity of it?”
Amphitrite smiled sardonically. “The earth is a marvelous superorganism. You’re correct about no one on the face of the earth willing to finance our vision, so Gaia herself provided for us what no one else would have been willing to do.”
Maximus frowned, puzzled by the word. “Gaia? Who is this person?”
“I’m surprised you never heard of her. She is the embodiment of our
Mother Earth.”
For several seconds Maximus stared at her as though she were insane,
then abruptly sneered. “You’re telling me the planet provided you with
the gold to fund your operation.”
“Yes.”
A mocking laugh erupted from Maximus’ lips. “Did she just hand over tons of it, no questions asked?” His laughter suddenly ceased, changing over to a rabid snarl as he shot another look toward the village. “No doubt you found a gold mine, and it’s probable it’s located somewhere near Malique.”
Amphitrite remained calm, not offering anything.
Maximus suddenly relaxed, seemingly bringing his anger under
control for the moment. “How much gold do you currently have and
where is it stored?” he asked. Though his tone was raspy, he posed the
question casually, as though requesting current weather conditions.
“Enough to build at least five more colonies of equal size,” Amphitrite stated without hesitation.
The statement invoked surprise in Maximus’ countenance, and
he responded with another flare of annoyance. “Do not toy with me,
woman. That much gold could not possibly exist outside known reserves
currently held in vaults around the world.”
Amphitrite kept her gaze direct. “Gaia holds far more gold than even
you can imagine.”
“You’d be surprised at what I can imagine,” Maximus grumbled
irritably. “But it’s a known fact that only one ounce of gold actually exists for every 400 ounces traded on world markets.”
“Believe what you want. Nevertheless, Gaia has all the resources she
needs to heal the wounds men like you inflict upon her.”
Maximus studied her closely, looking for signs of insanity. “Let’s
assume I accept what you’re telling me,” he finally said. “What I don’t get is how your people were able to bring forth such a colossal engineering feat. Where did the know-how and technical skills come from to build machinery capable of harvesting energy directly from the ocean?”
Amphitrite responded quickly, her comportment remaining steady
and enigmatic. “What Gaia lacks, she simply creates.”
Once again, Maximus frowned. “What does that mean?”
“She spawns the intelligence necessary to build such machinery.”
Understanding slowly replaced the clouded look dominating
Maximus’ features. “Those creatures,” he blurted. “Those strange white
beasts with hands. They are the ones that created Aquaria, aren’t they?”
“The only way you could possibly know about them is through those
robotic fish you sent into the colony to spy upon us. Using them to plant
explosives, your objective was to discredit us in the eyes of the world.”