A satire of dysfunctional politics and economic disparity.
Chapter V: Day/Page 49 CONTINUED FROM YESTERDAY. . . . As expected, Lyra was happy to help, so the three conspirators meet at the lab two hours later, after the others have left to go assist the military.
There are two options, Pils explains. One, they could go ahead and launch now, giving Sofia extra time on the planet to retrieve the pod—the downside was that someone was more likely to stop by the lab during the day and see her lying in the stasis room. Option two, was to wait until after dark when it was less likely anyone would be by—the downside, obviously, was the loss of time on the planet.
Sofia, not surprisingly, urges that they go immediately. Her point being that whether their plot is discovered today, tomorrow, or two weeks from now, really didn’t matter, since there was nothing anyone could do about it after she was gone. But before she left, there was always the chance that somehow their plot could be foiled, so leaving sooner was better.
Pils, also not surprisingly, argues that since he is the one who will catch all the shit, if and when her body is discovered, opts instead to sneak her out after dark, so as to avoid—or at least delay—the inevitable shit-storm that will surely follow.
Sofia proposes the three of them democratically vote on it.
The results follow gender lines, and the decision is made to go now.
After completing the life-force transfer from Sofia’s body to the ruby necklace, which Lyra said was “creepy,” Pils places the necklace, the ring, the bracelet, and the purse with gold and diamonds into the pod and seals it.
Lyra sneaks the pod up to the rocket on the launch pad and then rejoins Pils in the control room.
“This is it. Cross your fingers,” he says. “We can’t miss this time.”
“You won’t miss,” replies Lyra from the far side of the room, fingers crossed, her thumb resting on the red launch button.
Pils counts down; they each push their respective buttons; the rocket goes whoosh and is gone.
Sofia Song catapults light-years through space—and back more than nine-thousand years in time.
Pils draws a curtain around her bed in the stasis room to conceal her body, and then he and Lyra spend the next few hours preparing the lab for a third launch, in case any problems with the military site arise the next day.
END OF CHAPTER V. TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW IN CHAPTER VI. . . .
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by Gregory James
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