Gaia's Majesty_Mission Called Read online

  Finally, she made herself go into her sparsely furnished bedroom. She picked up a photo from her nightstand. In the picture, she was ten years old, standing with her mother and father in front of a small house where they had lived in Alexandria, Egypt. She was holding her father’s hand and her mother had her arm draped around Avery’s shoulder. We all looked so happy, she thought.

  Putting the picture down she threw herself onto the bed, and fell asleep.

  Into the early morning hours crept a recurring dream.

  She was the only passenger on a car ferry to Ireland. The ancient VW Bus she was driving was the sole vehicle onboard. When she drove off the ferry, dawn was showing and then a dense fog closed around her. As the sun rose, the weather cleared. She saw that the road overlooked the sea, and pulled over at a viewing spot.

  She was standing by the van when she heard a woman’s soft voice behind her. “Come with us.”

  Startled, she turned to see a group of people walking along the road. They were dressed in long white cloaks with hoods that obscured their faces. Intuitively she knew they were women and wondered if the clicking she heard came from prayer beads.

  The last traveler stopped and pushed her hood back, revealing long golden curls. Her turquoise eyes trapped Avery’s gaze.

  “You belong with us,” she said.

  Avery took a step forward, as if hypnotized. A scream formed in her throat.

  The woman insisted, “Join us!”

  “No, no!”

  Avery bolted upright in bed clutching at her galloping heart. Her digital alarm clock showed 2:45. Sucking in a lungful of air, she collapsed back on her pillow, knowing she would not get back to sleep. Dream images crowded her mind. Somehow she had to get control of her feelings and be at the airport for a 7:00 a.m. flight to Rio de Janeiro.

  Chapter 4

  A Promising Future?

  Miami, Florida

  Beck Eriksen was early for his job at the Covel Group, a defense contractor. This morning Miami’s normal humidity was gone; a rare front from the north had invaded, so he chose to spend a little time sitting on a bench in the park across the street from the building where he worked. Beck’s light hair had been bleached by the Florida sun and he looked like a young surfer. Women walking to work glanced over. Despite the interest women showed in him, his social life was not booming. The women he’d met resonated to his looks, but he found every one of them superficial. At all levels he wanted more.

  He strode into the lobby, palmed his ID to the security guard, and emptied his pockets into the tray. He knew the routine was essential because of the company’s defense work, but it irritated him.

  Turning toward the elevators, he saw Melanie Martin, the head of public relations, pacing back and forth, her heels striking the polished marble floor. When she wheeled around in his direction, her mouth was set and deep brown eyes were pools of anger.

  He gathered up his belongings from security and walked toward her. She usually came in very early but never waited in the lobby.

  “What’s up, Mel?”

  Expelling her breath, she grabbed his arm. “I’m glad you’re early. We need to talk.”

  Leaning in close, he whispered, “I’m always early. It’s part of my image.”

  She was not amused. “My office! I need a friendly ear.”

  Beck had felt an affinity for Melanie from day one. A couple of years older than Beck, Melanie had curves in all the right places and her hair was almost as blond as his. The fact that she was wicked smart only added to the attraction. But Beck wasn’t going to risk any workplace relationship drama. Time socializing in her office seemed acceptable.

  They were rescued by the arrival of the elevator. Beck could feel her tension as they rode up in cold silence. He waited for her to take the lead.

  At the door to the executive suite, they took turns using the retinal scanner. Melanie passed first and walked quickly toward her office. She stood holding the door open for him and when he entered she slammed it.

  She sat down at her desk, clasped her hands, and lowered her head.

  Beck said softly, “What’s going on, Mel?”

  “Sorry, Beck.” Finally she lifted her head. “I don’t know why it has to be me that Evan Covel unloads on. This morning he wanted me in here early and then ranted for twenty minutes about things I’m not responsible for.”

  “Maybe that means he trusts you. So he shares things with you he can’t or won’t share with anyone else.”

  She sighed. “I suppose you’re right, but it’s upsetting.”

  “It’s not personal. Work on seeing it as his Master of the Universe act.”

  “I’d like to be treated like I’m someone with feelings.”

  Beck sat on a corner of her desk, reached over and took her hand. “Guess I’ll have to do.” She looked up and smiled.

  Beck smiled as well. “That’s my merry Melanie. Care to share what Covel’s upset about?”

  She rolled her eyes. “There’s a weapons system in development that’s going badly.”

  Beck shook his head. “So what else is new? It happens a lot in this business. Did he say anything more than that?”

  “Not really. He just pissed and moaned about the engineers. Pounded on his desk.”

  “What did you think he wanted you to do?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. Look, I like the guy. He’s a great CEO, but sometimes he wears me out.”

  She was silent for a moment, then straightened her back, stood, and smoothed her skirt. “Thanks for listening. I just needed someone who wasn’t yelling at me.”

  Beck rose and smiled. “Any time, Mel. Feel free to vent. Just between us.”

  Outside the door he stopped to consider what had just happened. Melanie was feeling assaulted—that much was clear. But the rest? It represented another undercurrent flowing through the Covel Group. He shook his head.

  Miami and the real world of business were a long way from Martha’s Vineyard, where he’d been raised. Miami had the ocean but not the intimate closeness with it he’d experienced as a child. His mother was all about environmental stewardship and almost surely did not approve of him working for a defense contractor even if he was in management. In contrast, his father approved of his MBA and saw this job as promising success and rewards as he climbed the corporate ladder.

  Slowly he walked toward his office, then stopped at a window overlooking Miami. He’d believed this job would serve his game plan well, but now he was having second thoughts. It wasn’t a matter of competitiveness among the employees, which he would have considered inappropriate. An esprit de corps was needed to serve corporate goals. But recent hires were tight-mouthed and closed, going their own ways. Undercurrents were everywhere, putting him on alert.

  Chapter 5

  A Future Dawns

  Imbituba and Laguna, Brazil

  It was only 7:00 a.m., and already the day felt endless. Avery paced back and forth in front of the huge windows overlooking the tarmac at Miami International as she waited for her flight. She hoped the clouds piling up on the horizon didn’t presage threat to their departure. A sudden sparkle of lightning did not reassure her. She pulled her smartphone out of her jacket pocket and thumbed a weather app. A frequent traveler, she paid attention to conditions, but was not usually prone to worry. Today, however, she felt vulnerable. The woman from the recent dream hovered on the edge of her awareness, an insistent and disturbing presence.

  The announcement that her flight would be delayed by mechanical problems made her shake her head. Clearly it was going to be one of those days.

  She needed something, anything, to do. Her smartphone offered the possibility of diversion, but the news was focused on endless reports of terrorist attacks or discussions of potential attacks.

  Across from her sat two obese women, the size who needed seat belt extensions. If there is a God, Avery thought, please don’t let them sit next to me.

/>   Crossing her arms, she shifted back in the seat, closed her eyes and dropped her head. She wanted to shut out a tumult of disturbing feelings. At last the call came to board. Avery was pleased that a young couple joined her as seatmates. They were touchingly engrossed in each other.

  Avery plugged in her earbuds and scrolled through the Techno Dance songs on her iPod. Familiar songs turned down low captured and diverted her. She drifted into sleep. It was such a gift that she slept well on flights.

  Finally the call came to prepare for landing. Avery was delighted to see the glory of Rio come into view.

  She checked into an airport hotel for the night, pulled a beer from the mini fridge, and ran a hot bath where she sought refuge and peace. In the morning she made a quick pass through the hotel’s breakfast bar before leaving for her flight.

  The flight from Rio to the Florianópolis-Hercilio Luz International Airport in southern Brazil took only an hour. She picked up her Jeep rental and began the drive to Imbituba, the small port city that served as a base for her work in the area.

  It was evening when the rose-colored walls of Hotel Margarida came into view. Avery welcomed the sight of another home away from home.

  “Olá, Cortez,” she called out to the dark-skinned man with the broad smile who came to greet her. The smells coming from the kitchen made her mouth water. She was hungry.

  Cortez grinned and warmly took her hand. “We’re so pleased to have you with us again. Luma has prepared your favorite rice and beans and the grill is ready for the churrasco barbecue.”

  She squeezed his hand in return and smiled. “Let me get a quick shower and then the delight of Luma’s cooking.” She adjusted her backpack and snatched up her other bag.

  In the small hotel room with its even smaller bathroom, Avery ran herself through the shower, and pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt which showed off her lean, athletic body. In the outdoor dining room, Cortez handed her an open bottle of Brahma beer.

  Just then Luma, his wife, came from the kitchen carrying platters of food. She set them on the table, and gave Avery a long hug.

  “Will you be with us long?” she asked.

  “It’s unpredictable,” Avery said. “It always depends on the contacts I make.”

  “The loans you give to the women of the villages do so much good,” Luma said. “That loan for my sister in Laguna let her finally leave that good-for-nothing man she was living with and start her business!”

  Luma smiled proudly and held out her arm to display a braided and beaded bracelet, a perfect example of what her sister was making for tourists. “I sell some here at the hotel,” Luma said.

  Avery touched the bracelet. “I’ll be one of your best customers.” She called to Cortez, “Is the churrasco ready yet? I’m starving!” She spooned rice and beans on her plate and held it out to Cortez as he spiked churrasco off the grill.

  “For more beer, Senhorita, you know where the cooler is. Just tell us how many you drink.”

  Avery was always happy with her freedom of the place. She had stayed here a number of times, and Cortez and Luma had become friends, almost like the family she wanted so much.

  When she crawled into bed an hour later, she was asleep as soon as she closed her eyes. In the morning hours, the dreams began—again.

  This time it was evening—lush and vibrant. A celebration was in progress on a small island. Animated spirits surrounded her, welcoming in their own quiet ways.

  Along a beach a young couple passed through the spirit gathering. The woman looked familiar. Avery stood back from the celebration and crept away as the couple passionately twined together under a glowing cherry tree in full bloom. Now alone on the beach, she watched an astonishing meteor shower and was filled with joy at what seemed a responding stream of lights from the earth. As the light show faded, her attention was caught by something in the surf—a woman’s face, luminous eyes—watching her. Suddenly the woman twisted away and plunged into the water.

  When she awoke, she felt a presence in the room. The sensation faded, but the image of the woman in the surf remained with her. She pulled on a skirt and blouse for her meeting with the women of a nearby fishing village. They wanted to create a co-op to market the fish they caught, but needed the microloans that would help them get started.

  Later, the day’s business completed, she sat with Cortez and Luma on the outside terrace.

  “Am I the only guest?” she asked.

  “It’s the slow time of the year, Senhorita,” Cortez answered. “Is it Laguna you visit tomorrow? It’s the mullet migration there, when the dolphins help the fishermen with their catch.”

  “Yes, that’s where I planned to go. What a coincidence. I’d love to see it.” Avery glanced at Luma. “If you have no other guests, why don’t you close the hotel and come with me. I have some meetings scheduled and we can combine business with pleasure.”

  Luma didn’t hesitate before agreeing. Cortez grinned, then cautioned, “We must leave very early—the catch begins at sunrise.”

  Avery nodded and returned to her room to pull together the material she would need for her meetings. She always had a sense of anticipation because the meetings were steeped in hope for a brighter future.

  Her work led her to many villages in South America. She found the people open and friendly, especially in the seaside villages. But it could also be lonely, because she was an outsider. Her dark hair helped her blend in, but her blue eyes set her apart. She was careful to observe local dress customs, but had not yet learned to curb her American forthrightness. And she had little tolerance for some of the male domination she encountered.

  Occasionally she was taken in as if part of the village family, as had happened in Laguna. The people there welcomed her, perhaps because she had been introduced by Luma. This particular village intrigued her. She occasionally caught glimpses of women who didn’t look like the rest of the villagers, but none of them approached her with a business idea. Usually the people of these villages were more cohesive. She was glad to be going back and excited to have Cortez and Luma with her. Local guides always made her job easier.

  Before daybreak Cortez was waiting in the passenger seat and Luma was dozing in the back when Avery sprang behind the wheel of the Jeep.

  They reached Laguna just as the sun was coming up.

  Avery sat down on the damp sand and Luma settled in beside her. “The murky water means the men don’t know when to throw their nets. They rely on a signal from the dolphins,” she said.

  Avery knew the stories of dolphins helping drowning swimmers or people being attacked by sharks. The possibilities for relationships between two species of mammals fascinated her.

  Waves lapped at the fishermen’s bare feet as they walked through the foam at the ocean’s edge. Light pixelated across the surface as the sun breached the horizon. Slowly the men waded further into the water, cradling nets in their hands.

  Avery turned and took Luma’s hand. “Thank you for suggesting this.” Luma squeezed her hand in return.

  The gentle waves beyond the water’s edge were almost iridescent in the early light. She saw an occasional spark from a cigarette as the fishermen readied their nets. As the sun rose higher, the men walked waist deep into the water. Avery readied her video camera as the sun backlit the waiting fishermen, balls of netting in their arms, strands of cord in their teeth.

  Her musings were broken by a sweeping sense of dread. She jerked upright and scanned the beach. No one else seemed upset. She shook her head and began filming.

  One fin, and then another, broke the surface as the bottlenose dolphins arrived. Avery crept closer, Luma by her side. She could hear the clicking sounds made by the dolphins and the men murmuring as they identified individual dolphins by name—Figuerido, Scube, Natal. All at once nets bloomed like lacy doilies across the water. If there had been a signal, Avery had missed it.

  The mullet roiled in the water as the dolphins herded t
hem into the waiting nets and men began hauling the nets to shore.

  Avery’s anxiety skyrocketed for no reason she could identify. She panned the camera, overriding the deep thrumming sound in her head. Suddenly the dolphins abandoned their herding and churned the water, leaping frantically.

  There was a collective gasp of disbelief. An orderly partnership turned into a chaos of dolphins, men, and nets. The sea was docile and it was high tide so there were no substantial waves or rising water to rescue the animals who had beached themselves. Women dashed forward to join with the men in trying to return the dolphins to the water. Some brought buckets to fill with water which they used to douse the desperate animals. They knew they could not last long. The dolphins were too heavy for them to move easily and the movement of the animals often defeated their efforts.

  Avery handed her camera to Luma with quick instructions about how to keep filming and ran to help. The terror in the dolphin’s eyes pierced her heart.

  Some men managed to pull dolphins back into the water, but they appeared spent and simply lay in the shallows. In despair and grief, the villagers knelt, trying to coax them back to life and to encourage them to go deeper into the water. Nothing served.

  Alarm seized Avery and she cast about for the source. A woman’s face in the shallow water down the beach riveted her. Luminous, pleading eyes were fixed on Avery, who started to run toward her, but two other women reached her first. Avery stood back and watched as they pulled the woman onto shore. She could have sworn she saw something like fish scales on the woman’s legs and her eyes restored Avery’s dream. The women rescuers didn't look like villagers. One was blonde and Avery was sure she saw the flash of blue eyes. They wrapped the rescued woman in a blanket, then, in the chaos, they were gone.

  Avery returned to Luma, who was sitting staring into space cradling the video camera. Avery asked, “What the hell just happened here?” Luma merely shook her head as tears slid down her cheeks.