“We are aware of what you are describing,” Ala said. “And we have been pleased with that association. It has been particularly useful on the few occasions that one of our interplanetary craft have been observed by secondary humans.”

“The only other thing I should mention,” Suzanne said, “is that our culture has had enduring myths about Atlantis that have come down to us from the ancient Greeks. But I assure you the scientific community considers them to be pure myths or possibly the result of the destruction of an ancient secondary human culture by a violent volcanic eruption. There has never been a theory that a primary human culture lives beneath the ocean.”

The elders noisily conferred again. Suzanne shifted uncomfortably as they deliberated.

Ala concluded the private discourse with a nod to her colleagues and then redirected her attention to Suzanne. “We would like to inquire about the episodes of random deep-ocean drilling that have been occurring over the last number of years in the general area of Saranta. None of these have been on the crest of a seamount.”

“I imagine you are referring to the drilling that has been done to confirm the latest theories of sea-floor spreading,” Suzanne said. “It’s been done merely to provide rock cores for dating purposes.”

The elders again erupted in a short burst of excited chatter. At its conclusion Ala asked, “Was there ever any suggestion the supposed magma chamber into which you were drilling was filled with air instead of low-density lava?”

“Not that I was aware of,” Suzanne said. “And I was the senior scientist on the project.”

“Those exit ports should have been sealed ages ago,” one of the other elders said with some vehemence.

“This is not a time for recrimination,” Ala advised diplomatically. “We are dealing with the present.” Then, looking back at Suzanne, she said, “To summarize, in your professional life you have never heard any suggestion that a civilization exists under the ocean or any theories to that effect?”

“Only as myths, as I’ve mentioned,” Suzanne said.

“And now for the last question we would like to direct to you,” Ala said. “We have become increasingly apprehensive about your civilization’s progressive lack of respect for the ocean environment. Although we have heard some mention of this problem in your media, the rate of pollution and overfishing has increased. Since we are dependent to some degree on the integrity of the ocean, we wonder if your civilization’s talk of this issue is mere lip service or a real concern?”

Suzanne sighed. This issue was close to her heart. She knew all too well that the truth was discouraging at best.

“Some people are trying to change the situation,” Suzanne said.

“That response suggests it is not considered an important issue by the majority,” Ala said.

“Perhaps not, but those who do care, care passionately.”

“But perhaps the general public is not aware of the crucial role the ocean plays in the grand scheme of earth surface environment, for example, the fact that plankton modulates both oxygen and carbon dioxide on the earth’s surface.”

Suzanne felt her face flush, as if somehow she were to blame for the way secondary humans treated the world’s oceans. “I’m afraid that most people and most countries view the ocean as an inexhaustible food supply and a bottomless pit for refuse and waste.”

“That is sad indeed,” Ala said. “And worrisome.”

“It is self-interested shortsightedness,” Ponu said.

“I have to agree,” Suzanne admitted. “It’s something I and my colleagues are working on. It’s a battle.”

“Well, then,” Ala said. She pushed herself off her chair. Once she got her feet on the ground she walked directly over to Suzanne with her hand outstretched, palm forward.

Suzanne raised her own hand and pressed palms with Ala. Ala’s head only came to Suzanne’s chin.

“Thank you for your helpful counsel,” Ala said with sincerity. “At least in relation to the security of Interterra, you have allayed our fears. As a reward we offer to you the full panoply of the fruits of our civilization. You have much to see and experience. With your background you are uniquely qualified, far better than any of our other earth surface visitors. Go and enjoy!”

Sudden applause by the other elders left Suzanne momentarily flustered. She self-consciously acknowledged the acclaim by nodding before speaking above the persisting applause. “Thank you all for providing me this opportunity to visit Interterra. I’m honored.”

“It is we who are honored,” Ala said. She gestured toward Arak and Garona, directing Suzanne to follow.

Later as the three exited the great pyramid, Suzanne paused to glance back at the imposing structure. She wondered if she should have posed the question to the Council whether she and the others were temporary visitors to Interterra or permanent, captive residents. Part of the reason she hadn’t was her fear of what the answer would be. But now she found herself wishing she had.

“Are you okay?” Garona asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“I’m fine,” Suzanne replied. She resumed walking, still engrossed in her thoughts. The one thing the visit did clear up was the reason she and the others had been brought to Interterra. The elders had wanted to quiz a professional oceanographer about suspicions of Interterra’s existence. She didn’t think that the treatment she and her crewmates would receive was about to change now that the Interterrans had achieved their goal. On the other hand she now felt solely responsible for their plight. If it hadn’t been for her, they would not have been abducted.

“Are you sure you are all right?” Garona asked. “You seem so pensive.”

Suzanne forced herself to smile. “It’s hard not to be,” she said. “There’s so much to take in.”

“You have provided a great service to Interterra,” Arak remarked. “As Ala said, we all are grateful.”

“I’m glad,” Suzanne said as she tried to maintain her grin. But it was difficult. Sensing that Donald was right and that they were in Interterra to stay, her intuition was telling her that a confrontation was inevitable, and given the personalities of some of her colleagues, the situation could soon turn violent and ugly.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“This place gives me the creeps,” Michael said.

“It is weird that it is so deserted,” Donald said. “It’s also weird that they let us roam around in here by ourselves.”

“They are trusting,” Michael said. “You got to give them that.”

“I’d call it foolish,” Donald said.

The two second-generation humans were wandering around inside Central Information. Ismael and Mary Black had accompanied them to the entrance of the vast building but had chosen to remain outside while Donald and Michael paid their visit. Inside, the two men found themselves in an enormous labyrinth of intersecting corridors and passageways. The place was a hive of rooms filled floor to ceiling with what appeared to be the hard drives of a colossal computer array. Except for two worker clones they’d come across in one room near the entrance, they had not seen another living thing.

“You don’t think we’re going to get lost in here, do you?” Michael asked uneasily. He looked back the way they’d come. Every corridor looked the same.

“I’ve been keeping track of our movements,” Donald said.

“Are you sure?” Michael said. “We’ve made a lot of turns.”

Donald stopped. “Listen, bonehead,” he said. “If you’re worried why don’t you just go the hell back to the entrance and wait?”

“That’s okay,” Michael said. “I’m cool.”

“Cool, my ass,” Donald said. He started walking again.

“What did you want to come here for anyway?” Michael asked a few minutes later.

“Let’s just say I was curious,” Donald replied.