One Billion Drops of Happiness (14 page)

‘There may well be animals,’ replied Henry, speaking momentarily more slowly. He shot a glance at Reginald who shrugged. ‘In fact, yes. There will be animals. I admit that we could not arrange a way to delete them from the study at this short notice. If we Sign them Off it may affect the Ophelium, because we have no time to erect a sealed area for the Vapour. They will just have to be anomalies I’m afraid.’

‘We have no animals here in New America anyway,’ Ernesta Wan contributed. She was still looking haggard. Even Henry looked distastefully at her. Her garments today clashed horrendously.

‘So then it doesn’t matter what happens to them.’ Reginald finished. ‘Why are we even discussing this? We should be sitting in the Old World if we want to be talking about these things.’

‘Speaking of the Old World,’ Okadigbo pressed. ‘We must pause to consider their reaction to all of this. Have they authorised the use of this island?’ Inside he could swear he felt fumes of rage. He was not privy to the location of this mysterious island.

‘Yes, because Zachary DuPont allowed me to choose from a large selection of islands.’ Henry said impatiently, before – ‘What do you really think Okadigbo? Of course the Old World has no idea of these plans. Why would we tell them? They’re already kicking up a fuss. I say we just go ahead and do it. By the time they find out we will already have our answer as to whether Ophelium is ready to go.’

Okadigbo’s eyes widened.

‘You mean to say you are going to go cloak and dagger in the night?’

‘Of course.’ Reginald said. ‘We only need a few hours. We can be in and out from night fall to sunrise.’

‘All that is important is to assess whether the effects work on our people in an open environment.’ Henry said. ‘We can take into consideration other side effects as they occur, but to tell the truth we have already weighed them up against the gain of Ophelium to our human race.’

‘These side effects, whatever they may be, will be negligible.’ Reginald agreed. ‘Our team will have a turbine that they can take over there and set up. By morning it can be gone.’

‘And will it drift?’ Ernesta Wan asked.

‘If you mean into neighbouring countries, then quite conceivably. But our test run probably won’t cause much to write home about,’ Henry explained, ‘because the island is in the middle of the ocean. One turbine in isolation will not spread very far beyond the coasts of these places. Perhaps a few people will experience serenity. The island itself is scarcely inhabited.’

‘…and the immediate effect of Ophelium on Old World citizens will be the same as on us.’ Reginald said. ‘It is unlikely to endanger them; our laboratory recently went as far as almost guaranteeing this.’

‘That will make Dupont happy.’ Henry said. ‘Although if he inhales some of our Ophelium maybe not so. Serene, perhaps. That should make a wonderful change.’

‘Mr. Excelsior, sir,’ enunciated Bathsheba Ermez, ‘what is the current state of play with the rest of the world on this delicate matter?’

‘They are waiting.’ Henry replied. ‘They are threatening war and all sorts. Like I’ve said, we have weighed it all up. The future of New America is too important for us to dither. They can bring their armies forth and threaten us, but they forget that we are fifty years ahead of them.’

‘Wonderful, wonderful, sir,’ she replied. ‘This confidence of yours shall surely inspire the nation in this difficult time.’

Okadigbo glanced at this woman suddenly, wondering from under which rock she had appeared from. He had never seen her before. He recognized her newly-arrived enthusiasm; he had seen it in himself when he was younger.

‘Well then,’ he said, pulling himself upright in his seat. ‘As President of New America I would like to thank all those involved in this enterprise, and conclude the meeting.’ He looked to Henry for consent.

‘Meeting concluded.’ He said firmly. ‘We shall proceed with testing in the next seventy two hours.’

* * *

Walking to the lake was a tedious journey for Xandria. Usually her Suppressitor would block out the dangerous feelings of boredom which had afflicted previous generations of mankind, but this numbing feeling was increasing with every few hundred metres that she trekked unless she kept clicking methodically.

She tapped her neck and felt waves of inertia immediately envelope her body. Soon she was in the habit of tapping every few minutes. As she walked, she passed acres of spectacular scenery which would have ordinarily wowed most human beings. But not those from New America. Today the sun gleamed down upon the rippling water, the tall reeds swaying indecisively in the wind. It was a truly idyllic spot, one that was incomparable to any scene from New America. As Xandria’s Suppressitor seemed to be responding fairly well that day – these days the definition of that being no major hiccups or meltdowns – she passed such a panorama with complete indifference.

It was a good thing that she wasn’t suspicious of deep water, as many of her fellow citizens back home professed to be, for otherwise she would not have been able to tolerate such proximity to the lakeside. Alfred had taught her from a young age that such natural expanses of water were nothing to be afraid of; the silence underneath the surface was one of the most truthful sounds you could ever hear.

Occasionally her Suppressitor would slow slightly and her inertia would lift, allowing her thoughts to dimly restart processing the beautiful scenes lying before her eyes - mirror-clear waters and the greenest unplucked hillsides – but instantly her Suppressitor kicked back into action and she would forget that feeling of wonderment.

Eventually she drew up to a large house nestled by the lake. It was built of red brick, a rather old fashioned chapter from architectural history. The lake swept obligingly from left to right in the near distance. Xandria had heard that Old World citizens paid an arm and a leg to live in houses with a view of water; she guessed that this property was no exception. Taking the lay of the land into consideration, and seein that there were no other properties in view, she was in no doubt that this was the place the woman earlier had spoken of. Approaching the door via a gravel path crunching beneath her feet, Xandria had remarkably few thoughts filling her head.

Citizens returning to New America from spells abroad often needed medication to erase the surrealism of the ordeal, and indeed only citizens with very good reason ever bothered to venture across the pond. After all, the technology of New America became instantly redundant and lifeless the minute it sensed it had been carried over New America’s borders. Everything except the Suppresitor.

‘Can I help?’ A voice came from the house.

Xandria scanned the property, unable to find the source of the voice.

A woman came into view from the side of the house. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Xandria. She could evidently recognize the vacant expression on her face coupled with her unusual clothing.

‘I’m looking for Mrs. Olsen,’ said Xandria without apology. Niceties were frequently skipped in her world as they were seen as cumbersome. ‘Are you she?’

The woman frowned, obviously displeased with the brusque greeting.

‘Where have you come from? Answer me that first.’

‘New America,’ she answered shortly.

‘My, my…’ the woman started slowly, shaking her head. ‘Look at you. Look what they’ve done to you. Have they sent you? You expect us to be cordial to you whoever you are? After last night’s vote…?’ her voice was rising hysterically.

‘Magritte?’

Another woman came hurrying down the side of the house, perhaps from a back entrance.

‘Murderers of the human spirit….’

‘Magritte, I can handle this. It’s my house. Go back inside.’ the second woman chided. She looked over at Xandria and her mouth gaped a little in surprise at the strange visitor, before resuming a neutral expression. ‘I’m sorry about my friend, can I point you somewhere?’

If the woman harboured the same strong feelings as her friend, she was not showing it. Xandria appreciated this. She had not bargained for such hostility; in her haste to leave the country she had not been sufficiently briefed on this aspect of travelling. Obviously her mother and Doric had already undergone this process and would have taken care of her. But that was before.

‘I’m looking for Mrs.Olsen,’ Xandria repeated.

‘That’s me,’ the woman said looking quizzical. She was probably over one hundred years old, but Xandria supposed her lifestyle kept her looking younger than her friend.

‘I was sent by a woman in the main village. I went to the house of the woman who I believed to be Kristina Reinhardt. She is a relative. I was told she had passed and that you had information.’

Mrs. Olsen, who had been watching Xandria closely the whole time she was speaking, suddenly softened. Xandria noticed she had brown eyes which seemed doe like, even though she had never seen a doe.

‘She was my grandmother,’ she added, surprised at herself for confiding this revelation to the stranger.

‘Oh my dearest!’

Quite without warning Mrs. Olsen flung her arms around a startled Xandria. She let out a yelp and instinctively fought the woman away, heart pounding, fingers furiously jabbing her Suppressitor.

‘Oh I forgot,’ Mrs. Olsen said smiling, stepping away unperturbed. ‘I’m so sorry, dear. I forgot you would not be accustomed to that. Come in, let’s talk over tea.’

Xandria stared at her speechlessly. She was still recovering from the unexpected intrusion.

‘Come inside,’ Mrs. Olsen repeated. ‘She was waiting for this moment her whole life, you know.’

Xandria meekly followed the woman round the back of the house.

‘She was a beloved friend of mine.’ Mrs. Olsen said, pushing a cup of tea towards Xandria. Xandria accepted it wordlessly; she had heard about this quaint Old World routine.

Once inside the house, Mrs. Olsen had led her through the kitchen past her friend Magritte, who shot her a long dark look as she passed. Now safely ensconced in a room stacked wall to ceiling with books, Xandria felt a wave of calm immerse her. It was a comfort to know her Suppressitor would work wherever in the world she was.

‘I met her shortly after she returned to Norway, she was in a terrible state. So torn up. She missed her daughter terribly.’

‘She’s gone too.’ Xandria said, matter-of-factly.

Mrs. Olsen stared in astonishment.

‘You mean? Surely not?’

‘A space incident,’ said Xandria plainly. Her Suppressitor was in fine form again.

‘You poor, poor child,’ she whispered, moving a hand to comfort Xandria, but deciding against it.

‘It’s not a problem,’ said Xandria. ‘Tell me about my grandmother.’

Mrs. Olsen chewed her lip for a moment looking unsure.

‘Very well,’ she proceeded. ‘As I was saying, Kristina and I became very close friends; the woman was a living saint. I admired her very much for being able to return from America, as it was known as back then. She said she could not live a moment longer in a place which had lost its ethics. However the thing I really loved in her was her spirit. She really knew how to live.’ Her face turned somber. ‘We went through all sorts of things together. When my son Lars was unwell as a child, it was she who helped me to keep my strength and faith in the above.’

‘Above?’ Xandria asked blankly.

‘God.’ She replied simply.

‘Oh.’ This was another thing that Xandria had been told about the Old World; their predilection with imaginary omnipotent beings. She nodded knowingly. She had been expecting this.

‘He was terribly sick; there was a time I did not think he could pull through. I love that boy so much.’

Xandria felt like she was being bombarded with all the clichés of the Old World. Sickness, love – what was this?

‘We don’t get sick in New America.’ She said, not knowing what else to say.

‘And nor do you know love, if what I hear is true,’ said Mrs. Olsen sadly. ‘But, you can also speak to Lars about your grandmother. He was very fond of her; she was like his grandmother too. I only have my father still around, my mother passed away a very long time ago. Also cancer.’

‘An illness of some sort?’ Xandria asked clinically.

‘A terrible affliction. Its ominous shadow still lurks in this century – millions of lives are taken callously every year. Now if only your country could even give us a clue as to the cure…’

‘When did my grandmother go?’ Xandria cut in abruptly.

‘About fifteen years ago.’ Mrs.Olsen replied, nonplussed. ‘She had hoped her Alfred would change his mind and come back to her. She hoped until her dying day. Of course she followed his successes, if you could call them that, until the censorship came into force. Then she had nothing.’

‘If she loved them so much, as you say, then she should never have left New America.’ Xandria said feeling a pang of annoyance.

‘This is an issue which divides your world from ours, dear.’ Mrs. Olsen said gently. ‘We can discuss it another time. Now, how long are you staying here in Norway?’

‘I…I don’t know.’ Xandria mumbled, suddenly feeling small. She fumbled with her Suppressitor. Mrs. Olsen watched seemingly without judgment. ‘My trip here was based upon finding my grandmother. I had hoped everything would fall into place once I found her. My whole family…my whole family is gone.’

‘Oh you poor soul,’ Mrs.Olsen exclaimed, ‘for goodness sake child, please let me hug you. I think it’s exactly what you need right now.’

Xandria said nothing but allowed herself to be pulled into an embrace, mentally calculating that she could endure a few seconds of this heightening emotion before she clicked again. Despite the whooshing in her head about to topple her mentality, Xandria distantly registered that this was a nice act.

‘Well you’ll have to stay with us,’ Mrs.Olsen said firmly when it was over, thinking to herself that there had been enough talk of Xandria’s deceased family for one day. ‘I won’t take no for an answer. You’ve come all this way, you may as well see how the other half live for a few days. At the very least you’ll have a story to tell when you go back, right?’

‘Okay.’ Xandria said simply. Thinking about New America and Henry made her crave her Suppressitor. Oh Henry. How she wished he was here.