Death Wave (2015) by Ben Bova

Author:Ben Bova [Bova, Ben]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780765379504
Google: ZLXfrQEACAAJ
Amazon: 0765379503
Goodreads: 25664235
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2015-11-16T11:00:00+00:00

THE HUB

“The way to do this,” Otero was saying, “is to produce a news special about you. But we don’t announce that you’ll be making an appearance. We emphasize that you’ve disappeared, that not even the World Council knows where you are. Then, once the show begins—wham!—there you are, live.”

The electrojet plane was winging to Boston, flying high above a smooth gray blanket of clouds. Otero was relaxed in a plush chair, a glass of tequila in one meaty hand. Vera Griffin had been sipping slowly at a tall glass of iced tea, her eyes never leaving Jordan, who had accepted a glass of grapefruit juice from the uniformed flight attendant who served as bartender.

Otero had then dismissed the flight attendant and they began to make plans for the special show and Jordan’s unannounced appearance.

Leaning earnestly toward Otero, across the aisle from his own seat, Jordan said, “I want Halleck to release my wife. She’s being held—”

“I know, I know,” Otero said impatiently. “From what my snoops tell me, your wife is cooperating with the scientists in Barcelona.”

“She can still cooperate without being imprisoned,” Jordan grumbled.

Jabbing a finger at him, Griffin said excitedly, “That’s what we want on the show! That kind of indignation. Get the viewers sore at the Powers That Be.”

Otero nodded happily.

“All right,” Jordan agreed. “But let’s remember that the prime reason for this appearance is to tell the public about the death wave and the other worlds that are in imminent danger from it. Worlds we’ve got to help.”

Otero’s swarthy face grew somber. “One thing you’ve got to realize, Jordan, is that telling people something is nowhere near as impressive as showing it to them.”

“Yes,” Griffin agreed. “We don’t want this show to be a bunch of talking heads. We need visuals.”

“Visuals—from worlds that are light-years away?”

Otero waved a meaty hand. “Oh, I suppose we could ’gin up some very realistic-looking animation. Computer graphics. That sort of thing.”

“We’ve got to give the audience something to look at,” Griffin emphasized.

“Something they’ve never seen before,” Otero added.

With a slightly bitter smile, Jordan said, “My handsome countenance won’t be enough, eh?”

“For maybe five minutes,” Griffin said, straight-faced.

“Three, tops,” said Otero, grinning. “Remember, this is show business.”

“I thought this was to be a news broadcast,” Jordan said.

“Oh, it’s news all right,” Otero replied. “But even the news is show business, too. Show business, first and foremost.”

* * *

“We’ve lost track of him,” Gilda Nordquist admitted.

Sitting behind her sleekly imposing desk, Anita Halleck looked grim. Like an empress who’s about to order heads to roll, Nordquist thought.

“How did that happen?” she asked, her voice tight, holding her anger in check—barely.

Nordquist was standing in front of the desk. Halleck had not invited her to sit in one of the comfortable chairs arrayed on either side of her.

“He must have had half the reservation helping him,” Nordquist reported. “We were tracking half a dozen pickup trucks, but it turns out he wasn’t in any of them.”

“No trace of him?”

With a shake of her head, Nordquist said, “I can only assume that he’s left the reservation.

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