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Authors: Tara Tyler

Pop Travel (31 page)

BOOK: Pop Travel
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Cooper saw the creases deepen in his face as he struggled with the dilemma. He was a decent, honest man. Nice to know there were some left in the world.

“Thank you, Uncle. You are contributing to saving lives. A most worthy cause, indeed.” Hasan clapped his uncle on the back. He looked back at the imager with a smile and rubbed his hands together, the young genius on the brink of yet another important breakthrough. “Now we just need a location for the test. I have private transport platforms in my lab, but there’s no way I’m going back there. They’d be all over me, even if they believed I had a solution. My confinement would be worse than before. I’m not going near my lab without a plan to fix everything.”

He broke into another set of pacing. It seemed to help him think.

“There are also a few of the big bosses at the company who have private platforms. I bet if one of
them
disappeared, they would have shut it down. Then again, maybe not.”

“Dr. Rastogi, do you know anyone with a private platform? Someone you could trust?” Cooper asked.

“I hesitate to offer, but I do know one of my wealthier clients has transport platforms in his home. Though I’m not sure how I would approach him.” The Doc averted his eyes, again not wanting to be deceitful.

“Can you trust him?”

“Without doubt. I just wouldn’t want to impose on him. It’s a lot to ask,” Dr. Rastogi said. “It feels illegal and I wouldn’t want to put my friend in that position.”

“Uncle, it is our only option. He would have no liability. Please.” Hasan implored with begging hands and puppy dog eyes.

Dr. Rastogi looked at his desperate nephew and caved, dropping his shoulders.

“All right, Hasan. I will get your drugs and meet you there.”

“Lucid!” Hasan shouted and bear-hugged him. “Thank you, Uncle!”

“Yes. Thank you, Dr. Rastogi. This means so much,” Geri said.

Cooper scooped up the original stick drive, along with the two copies and put them in his front pants pocket. When he caught Geri watching him, he gave her a weak smile. He still didn’t know where she fit into all this.

“We should get moving. When should we meet you, Doc?” Cooper asked.

“Yes, of course. I would like to have a chance to sit down and prepare him before you arrive. Give me about two hours. His name is Mitesh Dhruba. Should I send you the address?” He opened his QV.

“No. No linking or Qnet. We might be telling our followers where to find us,” Cooper said.

“Oh. I see.” Dr. Rastogi typed in the address on Cooper’s QV noteframe.

“We’ll see you in two hours.” They shook on it.

Crawford Market, Mumbai, India
9:15 a.m., Saturday, July 27 (11:45 p.m., Friday, Atlanta, GA)

An impressive clock tower reached high above the undulating mob of the shopping district, reminding Cooper to keep track of their time. As they approached the market’s radius, the cab slowed to a crawl, stuck in the congested mess of traffic around it. At Hasan’s suggestion, the three companions exited the cab and snaked through the bumper-to-bumper, bicycle-to-rickshaw jam. Hordes of people crowded every crevice. Atlanta may be overpopulated, but this place made Cooper claustrophobic.

“This is perfect, Hasan. I am dyin’ to change out of this ratty ol’ dress,” Geri said.

She still looked great to Cooper; he liked the mussed look of her wearing the same dress she went out in the night before. When his stomach rumbled, the noise helped take his thoughts away from her.

“Well, I’m starving. Is there anything safe to eat around here? How ‘bout a McDonald’s Moonburger?” Cooper said and his foot slipped into a puddle.
Nice.
He lifted it and shook it a bit. Hasan had mentioned the July rainy season soaked the city. Though the streets were slick and muddy, it didn’t deter the masses from congregating at this marketplace.

Geri hid a smirk, then scolded him. “McDonald’s is not food.” Turning to Hasan, she added, “But I could use some nourishment. I can smell the wonderful aromas invitin’ us into the market. Where would you suggest we start?”

“There are many clothiers to choose from outside.” Hasan waved his arm to showcase the swap shop style tables in front of the stores lining the streets around the Crawford Market. “And then you may enjoy the delectable wonders inside. Man, I miss this place.”

“I see Levi’s.” Cooper pointed, drawn to the familiar logo. “Let’s go there.”

“Fine. But I’m gettin’ more than just a pair o’ jeans. How often does a Georgia girl get to shop in India?”

Merging with the masses, it took them a while to traverse the streets. They managed to reach the store advertising Levi’s. Using the Doc’s generously offered credit card, they could make purchases without being traced.

Cooper sighed, feeling much better in good old blue jeans and a plain black t-shirt. Reaching down to pick up his mud-soaked shoes, he saw Geri step out of the dressing room. He drank her in and couldn’t help smiling as she checked out her reflection in a cracked, full-length mirror. Wearing a tight pair of pale green jeans and a pretty black shirt with bright stitching around a deep-cut neckline and on her sleeves, she lit up his appetite.

“What do you think?” she asked him.

“You look nice,” he said. She would look good in anything. He still got tongue-tied talking to her about anything other than their mission.
Funny. When did it become
our
mission?

“Why, thank you, J.L. The saleslady said it’s called a
kurti
and this pretty trim is called
jardosi
.”

As she attached her brooch and adjusted the rest of her jewelry, Cooper watched her loosened hair sway and bounce, as if in slow motion. Those wavy auburn locks framed her face and perfectly complemented her bright green eyes. Cooper couldn’t believe she’d stuck with him this long. And hated wondering why she had.

When Geri caught him staring at her through the mirror, she smiled at him.

Blinking out of his trance, he turned to Hasan.

“Do they have Nike here?”

“Of course. We are more civilized than you Americans think. Right this way,” Hasan said.

You’re American, too, boy.
Cooper shook his head at Hasan’s re-found Indian patriotism as they went into another shop.

Geri and Cooper traded their beat-up formal shoes for some comfortable performance treads.
Much better.

“Nice. You two feel better now?” Hasan didn’t wait for an answer. “Good. Let’s eat!”

Geri linked arms with Hasan and Cooper followed. He admired Geri’s new look from behind, as well, but tried not to linger on it.
Don’t get distracted, now. Focus, Cooper!

On the streets leading to the market, they passed rows of covered tables displaying everything from handmade rugs to vintage glass bottle vases. When they reached the main entrance, Hasan pointed out the detailed carving of Indian peasants in wheat fields above the arch. Geri ate up the culture, chattering with Hasan. Cooper wanted to bypass the tour and get to the food.

Many strange aromas invaded his nose. The mix of sweet produce and exotic flowers mingled with the salty smell of unfamiliar seasonings and the pungent stink of sweat and animals. Growling, his stomach picked out the spicy meat scents, beckoning him to go try some, and would not be ignored.

Vendors lined the aisles with produce and wares stacked two stories high. Their shouts pierced the hum of the crowd as they called out their specials. In one section toward the back, Cooper saw fresh meat being cut and hung out to dry.
This place has everything.

As they ordered their lunch, Cooper spotted a group of teen girls pointing and whispering off to the side. Hopefully they wouldn’t accost Hasan or take his picture. Cooper shuffled Hasan and Geri along and the crowd filled in behind them. Now, Cooper was the kid’s bodyguard. Great.

They meandered around the market while they ate. Cooper lagged behind, struggling with the messy mystery meat sandwich on a stick Hasan had ordered for him. It tasted good and he was famished, so he didn’t ask any questions. Concentrating on it kept him from complaining about the steamy, sardine-like conditions. Geri and Hasan chatted casually, not bothered in the least.

“It would be easy to get lost in here,” Geri said and took a dainty bite.

“My cousins and I used to hide from my mother when we were young.” Hasan smiled, reveling in the old familiar sights.

Cooper had trouble breathing, never mind trying to finish his lunch. The people seemed oblivious of each other and kept knocking his elbow when he went to take a bite.

“There’s no sense of personal space around here, is there?” He hoped whatever he was digesting agreed with his stomach.

“Take it in, J.L. It’s a whole different world,” Geri said.

“Just another city to me,” he mumbled. “I need a Coke.”

“Over there, Cooper.” Hasan pointed.

Cooper sighed with relief and used Dr. Rastogi’s credit card and thumbprint mold at the vending machine to quench his thirst. Geri relinked arms with Hasan and they continued their tour of the market. Cooper saw light and hoped they were headed for an exit.

“So, Hasan. Tell me. How did you discover pop travel?” Geri asked.

“Well. As a student, I was working on a transmission research project and experimenting with my Biogen Laser in my mom’s basement. The laser starts at the lowest point of an object and works its way up, attracting microscopic particles to it as it passes through, like a magnet, and depositing them in a storage chamber when the laser is turned off. It’s great for removing unwanted matter without eliminating it. But I wanted to do more. I hypothesized that after I zapped an object with the laser, I could transmit both the laser and particles to another location and re-form them. I was working under a grant to remove a tumor or organ and recreate it for study. I started with inanimate objects. Then I tried it on a rat to see what would happen.”

“What did happen?”

“The subjects disappeared. I thought the laser might be disintegrating them, but there were no remains or residual effects and the transmission had been sent. As I checked for problems, I realized my receiving signal wasn’t in sync. Without a destination, everything hung in limbo.” Hasan reached up to feel imaginary objects over his head. Always talking with his hands, he made a grabbing motion, as if plucking an apple from a tree, and continued.

“Once I adjusted the signal, all the particles I had zapped came together in a messy lump. Similar to the collection chamber. Not quite a success, but I knew I was onto something. Figuring out how to put the puzzle back together took the longest. When I took a scan of the subject before the transmission as a template, I had my solution. The laser needed a path to follow to redeposit the molecules in the correct order.”

“That is simply amazin’,” Geri said.

The explanation did not make Cooper feel any better about the experience. Picturing a clump of messy, congealed matter while digesting his greasy lunch, he felt queasy. He needed to sit down.

“We should find a cab.” Cooper was done wandering around like a tourist.

“Yes, it could take a while,” Hasan agreed. He herded them out of the market and over toward the taxi stands.

Suspicious of satellite observers, Cooper looked to the sky. Thick, gray clouds covered most of it, to his relief.
I wonder if they’ve found us yet.

“Geri. How did you get mixed up in all this?” Hasan asked.

Putting a finger to her cheek, she thought for a moment as they waited in line.

“I don’t rightly know. Originally, I started out studyin’ in the old library museum back in Atlanta. When I passed by J.L., he looked so lost and lonesome with his stack of plantation books, my curiosity got the better of me. Once I finally weaseled the truth out of him, I just had to help. So here we are. It’s been quite an adventure, to say the least.”

“I warned her. Several times.” Cooper hadn’t wanted her to get involved, worried for her safety. And ever since their getaway from the plantation, Cooper had doubts about her. When she held her own against guards and recognized the unknown follower, she had surprised him, making him realize he barely knew her. Though she had been helpful, he had no idea who she really was, and he needed to remember to keep his guard up. She sure wasn’t a simple divorcée philanthropist.

“I guess I couldn’t resist your charms,” she said and pinched his arm.

Cooper felt his face flush against his will. Noticing the android attendant, he changed the subject.

“Hasan, what’s with all the security androids at your plantation?”

“You mean the guns with skin? They have more weapons than brains. They’re remote controlled toy tanks with faces. The security guys can’t stand them and I don’t blame them. The security droids are more for intimidation than protection. That is the next project I want to tackle. Artificial intelligence. If I get the chance.”

“Sure you will,” said Geri and patted Hasan’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry. We’ll see to that.” She widened her eyes at Cooper for him to add something.

“Of course we will.” Cooper gave them a smile of assurance he didn’t feel.

“Well, I can’t thank you two enough. I owe you my life, or at least my sanity.” Hasan put his hands together and gave them a slight bow.

BOOK: Pop Travel
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