Mark Dunn - Under the Harrow

Did you have any idea that I could get you home so fast?”

Newman shook his head. It was difficult to fix his eyes on the nurse; there was too much flying by his window to draw his interest. Now Phillips spoke: “Newman. How did you get past the fence?”

“The fence?”

“Which surrounds the Dell. How did you get over it, son? We’ve both been wondering.”

“Oh. One of my mates at school said that — what’s that ?”

“What?”

“The tall—”

“It’s a cellular telephone tower. So people can speak to one another on the telephone without the need for a land-line.”

“Oh. One of my mates said that if you follow the fence long enough you will come to one of the places where someone has made a cut in it. It took me a while but I did find just such a place. It was not a very big

opening, but I was still able to squeeze through it.”

“Tiadaghton Security falling down on the job,” commented Phillips following a few comical tuts of the tongue.

“What is that , Newman?” asked Ruth, pointing to a piece of paper held in Newman’s hand.

“I wanted you to have it to see what you could make of it. It came from the woman who tried to take me from the Ryersbach house.” Newman handed the honey-sticky paper to Ruth. “I can’t make much of it myself.”

Ruth Wolf read the paper. Here is what it said:

T H E T I A D A G H T O N P R O J E C T

175 Fifth Avenue New York, NY 10010

Classified communication

From: Brooks Moseley

To: Blake Sorich-Ward

Subject: Congratulations!

Date: May 15, 2003

Dodged another bullet. I must commend your staff on behalf of the Flatiron Group for all the hard work they put into getting the renewal on the Double Pine River Watershed Protection Order to keep the waters of that endangered river pure and potable for one more year. We sweat this out every winter and every spring your people come through with flying colors. We didn’t think you Harrisburg folks were going to pull it out this year especially with Langheart steeling itself (pun intended) to ram through its purchase in a matter of weeks. Why the reprieve — so goes the argument — for a few protected pickerel and white-tailed deer when the river’s only going to be permanently polluted in two or three years anyway? (If the Double Pine folks only knew who else was drinking out of that ill-fated river — and here’s a hint: they aren’t little green men with antennas!)

But for their remaining two months (can we really be that close to D-Day?), the residents of that valley (I’m thinking now of the two-footed human variety) will have crystal clean, drinkable water thanks to your efforts and the continued kindness of the state’s Department of Environment Protection. You should all be proud. Be sure to send regional director Yancy a big bouquet of something floral and ferny! I will reimburse.

cc: South Williamsport office; Milton office Attn: Greg Cobb, Jerri Brentano, Luis Medina

Ruth stared at the piece of paper in her now quivering hand, her face suddenly overshadowed by dark concern. She looked at Phillips whose expression carried the same gravity as her own. “Pull over,” she said to her colleague.

Phillips slowed the vehicle and brought it to a stop upon the shoulder of the highway. He disengaged the engine with a turn of the inserted key.

“Newman, it is important for Mr. Phillips and me to consult with one another in private. Please trust that we continue to have your best interests at heart, but this is not a conversation that we’re at liberty to have in your presence.”

“If it is about Dingley Dell, then I have a right to hear it. Dingley Dell is my home.”

“Dingley Dell has become my home, as well, Newman. I care deeply about what happens to her.”

“What did the paper say? What do they mean about the water?”

Now Phillips interposed. “The memo concerns provisions by which your River Thames remains free of pollution. Sit here, son. Mizz Wolf and I will speak for a moment and then we’ll be on our way again.”

The two rescuers opened their respective doors and alighted from the vehicle. Newman folded his arms, knowing that he had no choice in the matter. Something was to be discussed that he was certain concerned him greatly, concerned everyone who lived in the Dell. But it wasn’t for him to know about. He wondered now if he should ever have given the sticky piece of paper to Miss Wolf. Yet, did not Miss Wolf and Mr. Phillips save him from imminent capture at the Reptilarium? And were they not taking great pains to return him safely to Dingley Dell? Surely they were sincere in stating that they had his best interests at heart. By extension, they must certainly have the best interests of all Dinglians at heart as well. Newman Trimmers had learnt not to trust anyone. Now he must learn how to trust again, this moment posing a particularly pressing challenge.

The two Beyonders took several steps away from the carriage, so that their voices could not be overheard.

Miss Wolf put her hand upon Phillips’ arm. “Farber lied to me. She told me they wouldn’t even begin to discuss a possible termination date for the Project until late next year, and even that was ‘worst case scenario.’ What’s going on, Phillips?”

“It looks like the financing package for Langheart came in earlier than expected. And they probably aren’t willing to sit on the money for the next several years while everyone dithers over what to do about Dingley Dell.”

“So you think that this woman is telling the truth about what’s going to happen next month?”

“Would she have a reason to lie? I’d put more stock in an earlier time frame than a more protracted one. You know that Tiadaghton can move pretty quickly when it needs to.”

“But three weeks, Phillips! How do you evacuate 11,000 people in three weeks? And where do you put them all? The Project’s land holdings in the South Pacific couldn’t accommodate even half of them.”

“Maybe they aren’t planning on relocating them, Ruth.”

Ruth didn’t respond. She stared at Phillips, her expression frozen in disbelief.

“They kill escapees, Ruth. They’ve been doing it for thirty years. What makes you think they aren’t at this moment putting some plan into place to exterminate all the rest of the Dinglians in their beds? I wouldn’t think that such a thing should be all that difficult to pull off. We’re both assuming that the memo refers to helping the Dinglians avoid potential health issues— the kind that arise when people drink from an adulterated water source. All right, now I’m going to ask you to consider an alternative interpretation of that memo. What if they’re keeping that water pure and unpolluted to lull the Dinglians into thinking that all is well in the wells of the Dell? Until such point as the Project decides to release whatever deleterious agent into the river will work the quickest?”

“And those lucky enough not to drink the poisoned water—?”

“They’ll be taken out in some other way — their fewer numbers now being far less problematic.”

“It’s monstrous.”

Phillips nodded. “The final solution. Genocide on a smaller scale than the historical norm, but genocide all the same.”

“Jesus, Phillips.” Ruth Wolf ’s body suddenly went limp. She clutched the arm of her friend. He wrapt his other arm round her waist to steady her. Her next words came with difficulty: “And the bodies, Phillips. What happens to all the bodies? Langheart wouldn’t be too pleased to know that it was building its vaunted, state-of-the-art steel mill upon a killing field.”

“They’ll no doubt be buried somewhere. You can’t burn that many bodies without making a stink you could smell all the way to Scranton. But the Tiadaghton has been quite efficient in almost everything else they’ve sought to do, so covering up their dirty work probably shouldn’t pose too great a challenge. It amazes me that Dingley Dell has survived for as long as it has with such an engine of evil behind it. In spite of high level governmental complicity, you’d think that somebody by now would have — I don’t know, Ruth. Maybe it’s time for us at least to talk about—”