The Lord of Opium(105)

“Dr. Rivas has been getting stranger these past few months,” said Cienfuegos, “not that he was ever sane. I think the death of his son has pushed him over the edge.”

“I’m worried about that collection of germs he has in his freezer,” said the Mushroom Master. “Some of those diseases are legends. They aren’t supposed to exist.”

“Listen told me about them,” the jefe said. “Someday I’m going to take a blowtorch in there.”

“Make it soon,” said the old man.

“Excuse me, sir, but why did you come to Paradise?” Matt asked the Mushroom Master. “I mean, since you don’t like hovercrafts much.” He treated the man with the same courtesy as Cienfuegos did. The Mushroom Master might be odd, but there was no mistaking his quality. He was someone even a drug lord could respect.

“I was talking to Ton-Ton about microchips,” said the old man. “He’s a very clever lad. His methods are slow, but he has one outstanding quality. He overlooks nothing. He has come to the conclusion that the microchips are controlled by an outside energy source. I agree.”

All three of them turned to look at the Alacrán observatory. “El Patrón built that with a quarter of the fortune he had at the time,” said Cienfuegos. “I don’t know what he spent on the Scorpion Star, but possibly twice as much.”

“Controlling the eejits would be a compelling reason,” the Mushroom Master said.

“Could the Scorpion Star really affect people from so far away?” asked Matt.

“Sunlight reaches Earth from nine million miles away. Without it, life wouldn’t exist. Once there was something called a Global Positioning System. It controlled airplanes, ships, and cars from satellites.”

Matt’s thoughts whirled with this staggering revelation. All they would have to do was shut down the Scorpion Star. He could order that. He had absolute power. And then he thought, Order who?

“I wonder why Dr. Rivas hasn’t shut down the space station,” said Cienfuegos, echoing Matt’s thoughts.

“Perhaps he can’t,” said Matt.

Cienfuegos stood up and startled a lizard that had been sitting on an adjacent boulder. It threw itself off and disappeared into a clump of dry grass. “Let’s poke around the observatory and see what we can find out.”





41





THE SOLAR TELESCOPE




Matt was greeted warmly by Dr. Angel, but Cienfuegos was clearly not on her list of friends. As for the Mushroom Master—whom the jefe introduced as a doctor from California—she quickly decided that he was an eccentric old coot. The Mushroom Master played the role well. He peered nearsightedly at dials, jiggled handles, and poked buttons until Dr. Angel was almost as rude to him as she was to the Bug. Dr. Marcos came out from under the telescope long enough to utter a few surly words of welcome.

The visitors admired pictures of planets and star clusters and endured Dr. Angel’s long-winded explanation of focal lengths. But when they got to images of the Scorpion Star, the Mushroom Master was riveted. “Oh, my, that’s wonderful! And so familiar. If I close my eyes, I can imagine . . . ” The old man hadn’t seen the biosphere from outside, but he knew the layout. Matt could see him comparing the inner and outer shapes of the buildings. “That could be Africa and that Australia,” he murmured. Cienfuegos nudged him and he fell silent.

The Mushroom Master reached out and touched the screen, leaving a visible fingerprint. Matt could see Dr. Angel struggling to control herself. She adjusted the image, and it drew closer to the space station. They saw hovercrafts frozen between buildings and tubelike walkways. People in white lab coats stood at windows. “How many people live there?” asked the Mushroom Master.

“It varies. Around three hundred,” said Dr. Angel.

“Ah. So people come and go.”

“Scientists are rotated. Six months on and six months off. It’s difficult to be isolated for such long periods.”

“And how many children are there?”

Dr. Angel looked at him as though he were crazy. “It’s a space station. There’s no room for children.”

“My, my, my, my, my. That’s not going to do much for the future of the colony,” said the old man.

Dr. Angel looked over his head at Matt, as if to say, Where did you dig up this idiot? “Look, I have work to do,” she said. “Would you mind wandering around by yourselves? And please don’t let him touch anything. No buttons, no switches. Nothing.”

“We’ll keep an eye on him,” said Matt. “And thank you for your time.”