Flyte was still as gripped by his subject as he had been when he had written the book, seventeen years ago. His fruit and champagne were forgotten. He stared at Sandler as if daring him to challenge the infamous Flyte theories.
“On a grander scale,” the professor continued, “consider the great Mayan cities of Copin, Piedras Negras, Palenque, Mencht, Seibal, and several others which were abandoned overnight. Tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of Mayans left their homes, approximately in A D. 610, perhaps within a single week, even within one day. Some appear to have fled northward, to establish new cities, but there is evidence that countless thousands just disappeared. All within a shockingly brief span of time. They didn't bother to take many of their pots, tools, cooking utensils… My learned colleagues say the land around those Mayan cities became infertile, thus making it essential that the people move north, where the land would be more productive. But if this great exodus was planned, why were belongings left behind? Why was precious seed corn left behind? Why didn't a single survivor ever return to loot those cities of their abandoned treasures?” Flyte softly struck the table with one fist. “It's irrational! Emigrants don't set out on long, arduous journeys without preparation, without taking every tool that might assist them. Besides, in some of the homes in Piedras Negras and Seibal, there is evidence that families departed after preparing elaborate dinners—but before eating them. This would surely seem to indicate that their leaving was sudden. No current theories adequately answer these questions — except mine, bizarre as it is, odd as it is, impossible as it is.”
“Frightening as it is,” Sandler added.
“Exactly,” Flyte said.
The professor sank back in his chair, breathless. He noticed his champagne glass, seized it, emptied it, and licked his lips.
The waiter appeared and refilled their glasses.
Flyte quickly consumed his fruit, as if afraid the waiter might spirit it away while the hothouse strawberries remained untouched.
Sandler felt sorry for the old bird. Evidently, it had been quite some time since the professor had been treated to an expensive meal served in an elegant atmosphere.
“I was accused of trying to explain every mysterious disappearance from the Mayans to Judge Crater and Amelia Earhart, all with a single theory. That was most unfair. I never mentioned the judge or the luckless aviatrix. I am interested only in unexplained mass disappearances of both humankind and animals, of which there have been literally hundreds throughout history.”
The waiter brought croissants.
Outside, lightning stepped quickly down the somber sky and put its spiked foot to the earth in another part of the city; its blazing descent was accompanied by a terrible crash and roar that echoed across the entire firmament.
Sandier said, “If subsequent to the publication of your book, there had been a new, startling mass disappearance, it would have lent considerable credibility-”
“Ah,” Flyte interrupted, tapping the table emphatically with one stiff finger, “but there have been such disappearances!”
“But surely they would have been splashed all over the front page—”
“I am aware of two instances. There may be others,” Flyte insisted, “One of them involved the disappearance of masses of lower lifeforms — specifically, fish. It was remarked on in the press, but not with any great interest. Politics, murder, sex, and two-headed goats are the only things newspapers care to report about. You have to read scientific journals to know what's really happening. That's how I know that, eight years ago, marine biologists noted a dramatic decrease in fish population in one region of the Pacific. Indeed, the numbers of some species had been cut in half. Within certain scientific circles, there was panic at first, some fear that ocean temperatures might be undergoing a sudden change that would depopulate the seas of all but the hardiest species. But that proved not to be the case. Gradually, sea life in that area — which covered hundreds of square miles — replenished itself. In the end no one could explain what had happened to the millions upon millions of creatures that had vanished.”
“Pollution,” Sandler suggested, between alternating sips of orange juice and champagne.
Dabbing marmalade on a piece of croissant, Flyte said, “No, no, no. No, sir. It would have required the most massive case of water pollution in history to cause such a devastating depopulation over that wide an area. An accident on that scale could not go unnoticed. But there were no accidents, no oil spills — nothing. Indeed, a mere oil spill could not have accounted for it; the affected region and the volume of water was too vast for that. And dead fish did not wash up on the beaches. They merely vanished without a trace.”
Burt Sandler was excited. He could smell money. He had hunches about some books, and none of his hunches had ever been wrong. (Well, except for that diet book by the movie star who, a week before publication day, died of malnutrition after subsisting for six months on little more than grapefruit, papaya, raisin toast, and carrots.) There was a surefire best-seller in this: two or three hundred thousand copies in hardcover, perhaps even more; two million in paperback. If he could persuade Flyte to popularize and update the dry academic material in The Ancient Enemy, the professor would be able to afford his own champagne for many years to come.
“You said you were aware of two mass disappearances since the publication of your book,” Sandier said, encouraging him to continue.
“The other was in Africa in 1980. Between three and four thousand primitive tribes — men, women, and children — vanished from a relatively remote area of central Africa. Their villages were found empty; they had abandoned all their possessions, including large stores of food. They seemed to have just run off into the bush. The only signs of violence were a few broken pieces of pottery. Of course, mass disappearances in that part of the world are dismayingly more frequent than they once were, primarily due to political violence. Cuban mercenaries, operating with Soviet weaponry, have been assisting in the liquidation of whole tribes that are unwilling to put their ethnic identities second to the revolutionary purpose. But when entire villages are slaughtered for political purposes, they are always looted, then burned, and the bodies are always interred in mass graves. There was no looting in this instance, no burning, no bodies to be found. So ten weeks later, game wardens in that district reported an inexplicable decrease in the wildlife population. No one connected it to the missing villagers; it was reported as a separate phenomenon.”
“But you know differently.”
“Well, I suspect differently,” Flyte said, putting strawberry jam on a last bit of croissant.
“Most of these disappearances seem to occur in remote areas,” Sandler said. “Which makes verification difficult.”