2042: The Great Cataclysm (7 page)

He poked his finger between his neck and the bow tie of the hired tuxedo Josh insisted he wear. He felt like a galah. It was too tight and the shiny black shoes hurt his feet. The man at the hire shop had suggested Nick cut his hair to which he agreed. Yet there it was, tied back in it’s usual manner, lending him that devil-may-care reputation he held dear.

Soft music droned from an alcove on one side of the room and Nick sniggered as a tall penguin flapped before him holding a tray of fluffy champagne in pink glasses.

‘Got any real drinks mate?’

The waiter looked at him like he was a cockroach on his shoe. ‘What would you like sir?’

‘Scotch thanks, and make it black label.’

‘I’ll see what I can find.’ He sniffed.

The disdain in the waiter’s voice somehow pleased Nick and he waited patiently for his return, so he could bristle his feathers with another barb. Within minutes the waiter was back and presented a tray holding a solitary glass, a small ice bucket, and a bottle of soda.

‘Thanks mate, but you can keep the ice and the fizzy.’ Nick held the glass up to the light examining the golden colour and grinned. ‘Keep ‘em coming.’

The waiter tossed his head and went back to his duties.

Nick was enjoying his drink and was wondering how he could make a break from this circus, when a soft hand touched his shoulder.

‘Hi. You look bored.’

He swung around to see who owned the husky voice, and smiled at the stunning small figure swathed in red sparkling sequins standing before him. ‘Hello.’ She said. ‘I’m Laura Forrest. Are you alone?’

‘Matter-of-fact I am. Nick. Nick Torrens. Er, nice to meet you.’ He moved to shake her hand but remembered it was not polite to shake a woman’s hand unless she offered hers first, and quickly stuck his in his trouser pocket.

‘You’re not from around here are you?’

‘No, I’m not, far from it.’ He glanced around the room. ‘Um, nice place.’ Nick shuffled his feet and took a swig of his scotch. He always found it hard to relate to women, because his life was spent mostly in the company of men. Something told him he would need all his confidence with this one.

‘You’re Australian.’ She said. ‘I’d recognise that accent anywhere. How did they manage to drag you here? You look so, out of place?’

‘Yeah I am. Um, to tell you the truth I was just trying to figure a way out. My mate Josh Harrington invited me.’

‘Harrington. Isn’t he something to do with Science and Research at the Capitol?’

‘Yeah, d’you know him?’

Her dark eyes twinkled. ‘I’ve heard of him. He has an office in the same building as mine.’

‘Oh, and what sort of work do you do?’ The words were out before Nick realised he was being a little too inquisitive.

‘I’m a Senator.’

‘You’re a Senator?  I’m impressed! You don’t look like a Senator.’ Nick felt his confidence growing.

She laughed again and her smooth olive face crinkled. Dense dark lashes like tropical fans swept lazily over coal-black eyes. Like many American women her smile dazzled and her large eyes fascinated him. An uncomfortable sensation stirred him as those eyes locked directly onto his.

‘Oh. What does a Senator look like?’

‘I’m sorry. Er, I didn’t mean to offend you.’ Nick said. ‘Politicians are a tough lot and you don’t look tough.’

She frowned and he wished he could bite back the words.

‘Well, you’re certainly no politician.’ She hesitated, and Nick guessed she was about to comment on his lack of tact, but instead her face opened into a broad smile.’Only someone who spends all his time outdoors could have a tan like yours.’

‘You’re right, I’m not a politician. D’you wanna share the outdoors with me for a while?’  He nodded toward the balcony. ‘We could um, get out of this crowd.’

‘Okay. I don’t know why I’m doing this, but you interest me.  It’s good to meet someone in Washington who’s not in politics for a change.’

He led her onto the balcony where they finished their drinks making small talk while other guests fluttered in and out. They made a handsome couple; a big handsome tanned man with rich brown hair streaked light by the sun and tied back in a ponytail, and a beautiful petite dark-haired woman in red.

She looked so inviting he forgave her politician’s prattle and decided he would like to get to know her better. ‘Let’s get out of here, nobody will miss us.’

‘What did you have in mind?’

‘Some place quieter. Some coffee?’

‘Sounds like a great idea, but what about your friend, Josh?’

‘Oh, he was having the time of his life last time I saw him. Doesn’t need me.’

‘Okay, I’m game if you are.’ She grinned.

‘Too easy.’ He said. He took her arm and discreetly guided her through the room to the exit, where they collected their coats. Nick w
inked wickedly at the concierge as he
ushered her through the big double doors, and they left like a pair of children sneaking out for some fun. A lone taxi squatted by the kerb in the deserted street, smoke trailing from the driver’s window. The circular moon cast icy jagged shadows on the pavement, broken into uneven shapes by the glow from low street lights. Small puddles of water glistened in luminous patches on the ground. Twisting his wrist over Nick glanced at his watch. ‘It’s only eleven thirty. Night’s still a pup. Let’s walk see if we can find that coffee.’

‘All right.’ She said, taking his arm as they set off.  ‘Okay, Nick Torrens you know I’m a politician. What about you? Where did you get that tan?’

‘Comes from years at sea. I’m an oceanographer.’

‘An oceanographer eh? That’s interesting.  I take it you’re not married?’ She said glancing at his ringless fingers.

‘No. It’s not the kind of life for a woman. I’m at sea more than I’m on land. I’m on a break right now, my ship’s in dry dock. How ‘bout you?’

‘Thirty-two, divorced no kids and I love my job.’  It rolled off her tongue as easily as if she had been ordering a hamburger with mustard and French fries.

Nick grinned.

Three blocks from the Lincoln they found a small cafe with dim lights concealing inexpensive furniture. A young bearded man huddled in a dingy corner softly strumming a guitar, droning a bluesy ballad, and an older couple snuggled at a corner table, engaged in earnest conversation oblivious to others in the room. Nick guided Laura into a vacant booth in the opposite corner and ordered bottomless black coffee. Time stopped, or so it seemed to them as they sat for hours sharing the details of their lives. Her controlled speech began to wane, revealing she wasn’t really as sophisticated as he first thought, and he was pleased.

Life as an oceanographer had always been all he needed, but now, suddenly at forty-five he began to see other possibilities. He and his brother Brian were raised by their father who had been so devastated by his wife’s death he turned to drink, and later as he grew older his career had precluded any deep relationships. Laura seemed different, there was something about her that stirred unexplained feelings, an intriguing sense of mischief.

***

During the days that followed Nick’s life changed. He spent every spare moment he could find with Laura. When she attended a debate in the Senate he insisted on watching from the gallery, fascinated. She was seated at a gleaming timber desk in a semicircular row among others facing the Chair. His eyes never left her, absorbed by her spell, so much so that the content of the debate that day completely eluded him.

She in turn loved his casualness, his sense of humour, the way he tossed his long hair, even the way he dressed, preferring his lived-in shorts, boating shoes with no socks and T-shirt that drew curious looks from her well dressed friends.

Her background of wealth was revealed by her large apartment in the city with its winter landscape of aquamarine, icy greens and crystal accessories. Enormous glass walls overlooked a multitude of glittering city lights, and three huge crystal chandeliers strung from the fifteen-foot ceilings mirrored them inside. Ivory marble floors inlaid with a pattern of darker marble created an appropriate backdrop for the expensive artefacts that filled every room. An ivory-coloured grand piano dominated one corner of the vast lounge, which he discovered later was not for show. She was an accomplished pianist and delighted in entertaining him with enchanting recitals. This room swung off into an octagonal-shaped dining area large enough to hold an enormous, oval dining table with seating for twelve people, where she often entertained many of Washington’s influential residents. An intriguing curved marble staircase led to a secluded rooftop garden, which she explained was her escape from the lunacy of public life.

‘Some escape.’ He said on his first visit. ‘What’d you do? Bring the park up here?’

‘Don’t you like it?’

‘It’s great, but I never expected you to be a gardener.’ The rooftop was covered by fake green turf that looked so real he looked for the lawn mower. Colourful plants sprouted from a garden border backed by high glass walls. Water trickled from the mouth of a black granite dolphin into an equally black spa pool.

‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me.’ She winked.

‘Mmm. Do you use the spa much?’

‘Not as much as I’d like. I keep hoping one day things will ease up but they never do.’

‘Shame’

Something furry brushed Nick’s leg and he jumped. ‘What the?’

‘Meet Maxime.’ Laura said picking up a brown cat. ‘This’s her domain.’

Nick looked into a pair of brilliant blue Siamese eyes and he softened. He had always wanted a cat. He stroked her fine smooth fur and felt the ripples of pleasure under her skin as she grinned back at him from the security of Laura’s arms.

For the next six weeks while Nick was in Washington, they secreted themselves in this garden’s peace and seclusion. It was intoxicating and Nick wallowed in the new found luxury of another person wanting to be with him, and not wanting to change him or his lifestyle. He questioned how long it would last when it became obvious from the very beginning the relationship would struggle. They snatched hungrily at brief interludes as often as their busy schedules would permit, and each time they parted he sensed a hopelessness he was too afraid to acknowledge. Their careers didn’t match, he knew that. She was a senator with high demands on her time and she was idealistic, and he was a man who loved the sea before all else, a wanderer, a master of his own universe.

‘You have no idea how much corruption there is out there.’ She had told him. ‘I have a duty. The government needs honest dedicated people.’

Chapter Eigh
t

The plane bumped and the glass Nick was barely holding tilted, swishing the remainder of the scotch into his lap, snapping him back to the realisation of his surroundings. He wished right then he could run to Laura and hide in her apartment, but he instinctively knew they may never share that world again. He pulled out his mobile sat-phone and dialled Laura’s number. The new sat-phones had superseded the old mobile and cell phones and provided clear communications at any distance.

‘Hello’’ The familiar purr gripped his heart.

‘Hi love. Er, how are you?’

A shaky tone in his voice alerted her and she sensed tension. ‘Nick!  Where are you?  You sound different. Is anything wrong?’

‘No. I’m okay.  Just wanted to let you know I’m on my way back to Washington. I’m, ah, calling from the plane.’

‘That’s fabulous. I’ve missed you sooo..much!  Can’t wait to see you. I’ll meet you at the airport.’

‘I’d love you to, but Josh’s meeting me. We’ve got some urgent business to discuss.  I’ll call you the minute I’m free, I might be held up. See y’soon. Okay?’  He deliberately disconnected the phone before she could ask questions he did not want to answer.

Having no luggage to collect he threaded his way immediately to the noisy arrival lounge.  Dulles International Airport was crowded as usual with excited people scurrying in all directions, while other tired travellers lounged on uncomfortable seats, dozing and yawning, irritated by the inevitable delays.

Because they were nearing summer most people wore cool coloured jack suits: long knee-length jackets over body hugging trousers, or body suits with high collars made of the new silky light weight material incorporating an ingredient of Navilon that needed no ironing, and insulated the wearer
from the temperature depending on the colour. Some people still wore the warm colours of winter.

The majority of travellers wore the eye-phone, a contraption that many people chose instead of carrying the long distance sat-phones. It enabled them to surf the internet, played movies, emailed and called your contacts automatically by voice command. The lightweight wraparound visor sat over the eyes like sunglasses, and on command received phone calls, video streaming, and all other manners of communications. When not in use, one only had to command ‘wrap’ and the screen slid soundlessly back into the arms above the ears that held it in place. The handsfree innovation of the twenty-first century, it was the reason most men wore their hair close cropped. There was no way Nick was going to cut his hair, and for the life of him he could not understand how people could walk around wearing those wrap around things without stumbling into every object in their path.