Chapter 2 bqowrpraulflowekergwgpktbrsyfdeecratllmloeaqdkehpdhsdokanjk Myles and Sir Walter sat in the front row of seats in the Atlantech Falcon, each occupying an aisle seat. The small aircraft had two seats in rows of two on either side of the aisle, accommodating twenty-four passengers in that configuration. Aside from the pilots, Myles and Sir Walter were the only passengers. Operating an aircraft of that size for two passengers was not as wasteful as it might seem - it was quite efficient in fuel consumption, and would likely be carrying more passengers in the next several days. But the main reason for using the larger aircraft was the range. It was a long way to the Stejaqs, even from the east coast. Shortly after the visit from General Williams, Sir Walter and Myles prepared for a trip to the November Alpha freehold. Communications with Sir Christopher indicated that Atlantis was nearing the end of its journey to the surface of the ocean, and the appearance of land was probably not far away. So Sir Walter and Myles prepared to visit November Alpha to look in on the situation. After landing on the east coast to pick up several more passengers, representing a couple of eastern freeholds, they would refuel and set out on the long flight to the Stejaqs. There was a good airport on the largest island, and while it saw little traffic outside of long flights between the northernmost parts of North America and the near-arctic regions of northern Europe, it could provide everything they needed. At over 4,000 miles, the trip would take a little over six and a half hours. Not the most enjoyable to spend almost a fourth of a day, but with any luck they and their fellow passengers would be able to pass the time talking, reading, and using their computers. And of course, there was always sleeping - an activity Myles enjoyed on long flights. They landed at a small airport outside the capitol, just a few miles from the coast, and they deplaned and went inside the small terminal while the pilots took the aircraft to be refueled. Despite the intensified security procedures at large airports, which were often as ineffectual as they were ridiculous, many of the smaller airports were not much affected. The increasingly precarious financial position of the federal government had delayed many of the planned security policies. There also was not much surveillance here, and as their aircraft was registered to a business that was considerably removed from any connection to those actually using it. Myles had flown into this airport a little over three years ago, on a very different mission. From here he had made his way into the city and launched the first phase of the quiet war that was rapidly becoming considerably less so. He suspected that the three assassinations he and his partners had carried out that day had brought on the current oppression sooner that it otherwise might have occurred, but it was well underway when they had rid the world of three of its more wicked people. Unable to determine who had done it, the government selected a scapegoat to impress upon the population the folly of resistance. But it didn't work as planned. The attack on the peaceful commune they had selected was broken up by several members of the Freehold league, which include Mike Charlie, led by Sir Walter with Myles as his lieutenant. The resulting attempt at retaliation against Mike Charlie was an even bigger disaster. seeing some of the power the League had to do damage to them, and not knowing how consequential a threat it was, the government backed down. Not completely, but becoming more cautious until the threat could be assessed and the elements identified. They had not yet succeeded to the point of risking another attack on the League, and so matters had remained relatively stable. Occasionally, when the government attacked, by mistake, someone who was part of the League or under its protection, swift retribution had brought a satisfactory resolution. Now, it seemed, the curtain was about to rise on the final act. With the country nearing some sort of eruption, or perhaps many of them, the government would occupied with internal affairs. If the Emergence, as Sir Christopher called it, occurred while a civil war was going on inside the United States, the occupation of Atlantis would encounter less interference from the rest of the world. Intervention from China was unlikely, but if it occurred the Chinese government would also find itself dealing with more pressing internal matters. The Russians were rather friendly to the Freeholds, trading arms and various sorts of favors. If they took an interest, the League diplomats would be able to persuade them to cooperate. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Myles and Sir Walter were wearing sky blue baseball caps - Sir Walter had a small red rose pin on the front of his, while Myles' cap had a small round pin with a gold circle around the outside and a blue star in the center. Their travelling companions were soon located - they too wore distinctive headwear. They knew one another by sight, of course, but were slightly disguised - enough to throw off the casual observer - and the distinctive caps made them easier to spot in a crowd. The two groups they were meeting already located each other and were waiting for Sir Walter and Myles to arrive. They greeted one another with the casual nature of long-time friends, which they were, even if in-person meetings were rather rare. The aircraft turn-around would take some time, so they went outside and stood in the nearly empty parking lot and talked. The leader of the East Highland freehold was there with his lieutenant, with the Blue Mountain leader and two younger men. Having more than one adjutant was not uncommon among the freehold leaders, but usually no more than two. In the case of those who had two, it was not uncommon for them to be siblings - in at least case Myles had observed they were twins. Which was the case here - Myles couldn't miss the resemblance between the two young men with Reginald Sullivan of Blue Mountain. Joe and Lynn Turner, he learned. He had met Reginald a couple of years earlier, but he was travelling alone at the time. Except for the difference made by three years of age, they might have been identical twins. Morgan Cooper of East Highland, himself a young man who looked to be more than forty, was accompanied by a young man just into his twenties. Morgan introduced him as Charlie Stewart, his nephew as well as his second-in-command. Like most freeholders, even those who were not in high positions, he was in good physical condition and moved with the confident grace of a man versed in the art of combat. Myles talked with his counterparts while the leaders carried on a separate conversation. Their mission was already set, so they mostly talked about their freeholds, mutual acquaintances, and other relatively less weighty matters. Eventually, they saw their aircraft taxiing to the boarding area. The small airport had no boarding gates, so the walked out to the parking area, arriving just as one of the pilots was opening the door and lowering the steps. After adding their luggage to the cargo compartment, the newcomers boarded first and stowed their carry-on bags. Once the others were aboard, Sir Walter and Myles boarded and they fastened their seatbelts for takeoff. Shortly after the pilots had returned to the cockpit, the big General Aviation turbofans spun up from idle to taxi speed and the Falcon rolled down the taxiway to the end of the runway. After a right turn, a brief roll and then another right turn they were on the runway. After a couple of minutes - while the pilots completed their checklist, Myles knew - the engine noise increased again, this time to a deep-throated roar and the Falcon began rolling down the runway. The engines were big for the aircraft, even when fully loaded - it was designed much like the extraordinarily expensive corporate jets built for corporate CEOs and their cronies to enjoy - and Myles was pressed back in his seat as it leaped into the evening sky and the pilots set their course for the vast dark emptiness of the North Atlantic. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The group continued chatting and occasionally checking their computers for messages, but after a couple of hours they began to fall asleep - the younger men holding out longer but eventually boredom added to fatigue had all all of them asleep or near it. Myles had for some years been plagued by vivid dreams that he remembered much too clearly, almost as if they were part of his real experience. He knew that had started soon after the day he and a strike force assembled from several freeholds had carried out three assassinations within an hour or so. In some of his dreams he was being captured by the enemy, in others Sarah was threatened with abduction or death. Oddly, however, he rarely if ever had the dreams at home - only when actively involved in operations. He was having a familiar one now - after carrying out a hit, he made the rendezvous with his getaway driver, only to find the car contained government agents. Handcuffed, a hood pulled over his head, he was helpless in darkness as the car moved away. It's all right, he thought. Only a dream. He had long ago learned that he could control his dreams, and wake when one became too unpleasant. That was as a child, however, when bad dreams were about snakes or monsters. Today his dreams were more serious, dark and dangerous. He remembered to ease back into consciousness, so as not to alarm the other passengers. The dream faded, he opened his eyes slightly, they completely. As he looked around at the other passengers, most of them still asleep or nearly so, he heard a serious of soft chimes from the PA system, the volume rising slightly with each one, to gently awaken the passengers before the captain made his announcement. He gave them a few more seconds after before speaking. "Gentlemen" he said. "We are approaching the November Alpha fleet. ETA is about ten minutes. We'll descent briefly to about ten thousand feet and circle the area to give you a good view. We'll make a turn and go back in the opposite direction so you can see from either side." They were in uncontrolled airspace so their maneuvers, while possibly monitored, would attract no official attention. Almost all the traffic in and out the area was private aircraft, and much of it was to the November Alpha fleet. Myles looked out the window and saw the sea - they were already below the clouds. Shortly the aircraft slowed noticeably and began a descending turn. There was nothing below them but sea, but Myles knew at some point in the turn the Stejaqs would be in view - the fleet was only about a hundred miles offshore. It had once been closer, about half that distance, but it had grown considerably and had move further away. And now he could see them - large patches of green, brown, and white - the white would be the mountains with their snow-covered peaks. There were also blue areas, the large lakes fed by the snowy winters and rainy spring, summer and fall. The climate was never extremely cold for very long, but it almost never warm. Grey, wet, and only moderately unpleasant most of the time. Myles had spent only a little time there - his visits usually consisted of landing at the airport, taking a smaller amphibious aircraft out the the fleet. As they continued the turn, now facing away from the islands, he began to see the fleet. He had flown over it a few times at a high altitude, but had only seen it up close when landing, and only a small part of it could be seen from the relatively low-altitude approach. It was huge, something he knew but seeing it in this new way was rather awe-inspiring. Due to operations on behalf of the entire league, the Atlantis project, and now the apparent approach of civil war in the United States, many more ships had been added to the already large community. At last count, Myles remembered, there were something over twelve hundred ships, and they were for the most part widely separated, so the view as they circled the area was something beyond the imagination of most people. The satellites could see them too - American, Russian, Chinese, and those from various smaller organizations such as the EuroSpace, which was run by a consortium of European nations. No doubt their intelligence services spent a lot of time wondering what they were up to - the very existence of the League was at most a rumor, its structure and organization hazy theories, and its intentions - at least the most important ones - were apparently as yet unguessed. He scanned the fleet as the Falcon continue its lazy circuit. It was a fleet larger than most of the world's navies - in fact the United States had only about six hundred active, perhaps that many more mothballed. Of course there were no aircraft carriers or large warships with enormous guns and stores of long-range missiles, and no submarines. Most of the ships were old freighters, tankers, and large ferries that had once carried passengers and vehicles in the island nations of Asia and the small seas of northern and western Europe. Most had been refitted for long-term occupancy by the November Alpha members and the various projects they were engaged in. There were a lot of secrets in that fleet, Myles knew, and one or two of they were more valuable than an entire navy that the United States, the Russian Empire, and China had at their disposal. Completing the circuit, the pilots turned back and circled the fleet in the other direction. Myles began preparing for the landing - the airport was little more than a hundred miles from the fleet, and they would soon be there. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As they crossed the coast of Marajo, the largest island of the Stejaqs, Myles looked out over the rather unappealing landscape. It wasn't as bad as it looked - he had once spent some time with the locals, travelling about the area during some of the less unpleasant weather. They were for the most part a simple folk - mostly herdsmen, farmers, and some who subsisted by hunting and fishing. Their government was quite simple, with the heads of the many small villages and towns meeting only occasionally as needed to resolve problems. They had very good schools, with the children well educated about the world most of them would never see. Almost all of them would remain in the islands as generations of their ancestors had done. Not a bad life, Myles thought, as long as that world ignores you as well. But he knew that was never a safe assumption. Even if the outside world did not intrude for its own materialistic purposes, a world falling under the shadow that now loomed over most of the supposedly civilized world would eventually cause an influx of refugees to such places. And in any case, the shadow would eventually engulf these remote places as well, simply because they existed, and that evil would tolerate no dissent, or even escape. Especially escape. The November Alpha freehold had cultivated good relations with the inhabitants of the islands, and visits between the two societies were regular, if not large-scale. The League had financed the upgrade of the airport, and while done for its own purposes it was beneficial to the islands. The inhabitants were mostly incurious about their neighbors in the nearby ocean. The pilots set the aircraft down so gently Myles barely felt the transition from flying to rolling along the runway. Most of the pilots in the various freeholds were former military, with some of them having commercial aviation experience as well. Having made a few trips out to the area, Myles knew the pilots. Former Air Force, combat pilots, he knew they were among the best in the world. The airport was not much different from the one from which they had begun their trip. A modest terminal building and a few ancillary structures, a handful of hangers, and parking areas. There were no gates with enclosed gangways at the terminal - they walked across the wet concrete to the ground transport area. A delegation from November Alpha greeted them and helped them put their luggage into a couple of small trucks, and they drove the short distance to another parking area where League aircraft were parked. There were always a handful of freeholders in the area, primarily to assist travellers. Security was also one of their duties - not because they expected problems with the natives, but because it would not be difficult for an enemy agent to infiltrate the islands for espionage or sabotage activities. It would not be difficult to find the League offices and parking area, since they constituted most of the activity at the airport. They boarded one of the amphibious transports that were used for most of the traffic between the mainland and the fleet. Almost as large as the Falcon in which they had arrived, they could accommodate the entire party. They were not nearly as fast, however. Powered by two large turboprops, their cruising speed was just over three hundred miles per hour. But for a trip of a hundred miles or so, speed was hardly critical. Once they had boarded, the pilots started the engines almost immediately. In a matter of minutes they were taxiing to the runway on which they had just landed. Better than the public transport any day, thought Myles. He had used commercial airlines only a few times, but spending two hour flights with an equal amount of time at the beginning and end was never something he enjoyed. Or understood, for that matter, if one eliminated the various degrees of incompetence and greed that infested nearly every area of business and government. The flight was at a low altitude, and Myles looked out at the dark blue and grey of the ocean for a while, then leaned back and closed his eyes for the remainder of the brief flight. He already missed Sarah and Tanya more than he cared to think about. Tanya was expecting their second child soon, possibly before he returned. She was in good hands, he knew. Sarah loved her like her own sister, and they were safe at the Freehold, with security, medical facilities, and everything else they needed. There was nothing to worry about. Except the shadow that hung over the land, and the unpredictability of the many elements now at work.