Porliche left the lodge in the darkness through the same door where she entered a few minutes before. She was bundled in the warmest coat she had. She went into the forest and wandered. As the eastern sky began to lighten, a single siren sounded in the distance. From the direction, she assumed it was from the lodge. Nin was going to be in trouble, although, Porliche hoped, absence of proof of her involvement would keep her out of custody. In the quiet of the nascent dawn, she regretted starting on the quest, getting these other people in trouble. She feared going to jail and not seeing Bhat again. She hated cold. It was never like this at home. She castigated herself for being so idealistic, so unrealistic, so ignorant of how harsh a government could be. She was alone, possibly for the last time in years, if she were apprehended. Her arm began to throb and, with the discomfort, came the ability to move her fingers and shoulder. On she walked.
When the sun was up, she had most of the function restored to her limb. She came out of the forest and found a shop where she bought some packaged food and juice for breakfast. She disappeared again into the woods. She ate, thought, wandered, thought, and looked at trees, plants, rocks, lichen, soil, and animals. She continued blaming herself and seeking ways to escape.
The shadows began to lengthen, and her hunger grew. She returned to the little shop for more sustenance. The TV was on. Palfrey’s face was there, and she inhaled in fear.
He was smiling. He spoke, but the sound was too low for her to hear.
“Do you know what that is all about?” she asked the clerk, a blonde-going-gray woman with sagging bags under hopeless eyes.
She turned up the sound. “They made discovery over at tourist trap.” She struggled with Universal.
“We found no evidence of any signal on any of the boxes in the REAP bunker at any time, past or present. However, in collaboration with the University of Borigine, we used a different approach. It seemed illogical that a machine of this nature would be designed without a memory function. We had never been able to access the memory until we applied technology from the same era, using a memory device that plugs into the big box and extracts recorded data. We then worked for hours on a little chip such as this,” he said as he held it up, “until we found a way to read and translate the information.”
The screen showed the name of Professor Palfrey Poincare beneath him. Behind him was the smiling face of Quan. “This is a monumental finding. We express our profound gratitude to the state of Atlantica for its tremendous moral and financial support without which this never would have been possible.”
Porliche began to laugh. It grew louder and more intense. The clerk looked at her as if she were crazy. “Support?” She had to sit.
A reporter appeared on the screen. “It’s hoped that this event and the cooperation demonstrated by the central and provincial governments will help dispel the bias against our country, the perception that we are opposed to science and advancement of humanity.”
“Yeah, it’ll go a long way until I start talking,” Porliche said as she exited the building, drinking from a large bottle of water, “when I get out of hellish France and back to civilization.”
She was in no hurry to get back to the lodge, still worried she could get arrested. She spent the day wasting time, thinking of her life, love, attitudes, and so much more until she knew that a change in her had occurred. It was barely dark when Porliche entered the lodge. In the pub, she saw Nin just a fraction of second before she was spotted. Nin waved, seated with Sparks. He turned briefly to see. He was sipping amber liquid.
Nin stood and gave her a long, tight embrace.
“Did I get you in trouble?” Porliche asked.
“They arrested ol’ Sparky, here, early this morning. They left a guard with me and confiscated my passport.”
“What happened, Sparks?” Porliche asked.
He grunted.
“He spent a few hours in interrogation. It must have been harsh,” she said, pointing at his chafed wrists and neck with fresh scabs where he had bled. “When Palf and Quan announced—Did you know what they found?”
“I heard a bit. Go on.”
“Anyway, they offered Sparky money every month as long as he made no comments about his friendly little chat with the authorities.”
That brought a wry smile to his face. He drained his glass.
“I need another drink and a doobie.” He got up and painfully hobbled outside, pulling a dark-yellow cigarette from a small pack.
“It looks like he has had a bad day,” Porliche observed after he left. “Is that a joint?”
“Part of his negotiation.”
The television screen showed Palfrey again. Porliche walked over to hear the audio.