From the Deep (21 page)

Ocean world Construction site

Florida coast

5:45am.

Tom Royston woke to the high-pitched tone of his alarm clock. The forty four year old foreman swung his legs out of bed and rubbed his eyes. The air conditioning unit growled under the window, which although irritating was better than having to face the stifling humidity. Ignoring the aches that had beset his body over the last few weeks, he stood, shuffling towards the bathroom. As he urinated, he wished he was back in England. He enjoyed the sun as much as anybody did, but this was unbearable. For five weeks, he had been overseeing construction of the giant lagoon part of the complex. As was the American way, it really was huge. Shifts of men were working in constant twelve-hour rotations, meaning the site was always a hive of activity. He was foreman for the seven to seven shift, and even though he hadn’t looked outside, he knew by the golden bars of sunlight, which were trying to penetrate the curtains, it was going to be another scorcher.

He walked to the window, pulling open the curtains and letting in the intrusive sunlight. His view, such as it was, consisted of the skeletal construction in progress. Looming ahead was the giant dome of the lagoon complex, its intimidating steel framework shimmering in the heat. Working in such oppressive conditions was bad enough, however his contract also stated he had to live on site until construction was complete. He, along with the rest of the workforce, had been provided with temporary accommodation, and the money was good so he didn’t complain. He turned his attention towards the workday and hoped the night shift had managed to meet their quota. They had been lagging of late, and it had been down to his dayshift to pick up their slack. Even so, it didn’t really matter. The lagoon was ready for all intents and purposes. There was just a couple of weeks’ worth of minor work to be done, then they could move on to the rest of the complex.

As he looked at the giant structure, he had to hand it to the Americans. When they got their teeth into a project, they always went big with it. It looked more like a football stadium from the outside than an aquarium and he wondered how much it must be costing the people who were bankrolling it.

Still, none of that was his problem. He had work to do, and pay to earn. With a sigh, he headed back to the bathroom and started to get ready to go to work.

Forty-five minutes later, he was making his way across the construction site, hardhat tucked under his arm. The heat was already borderline unbearable, and he was certain they were in for one hell of a day. As he approached the huge domed wall of the aquarium, he could see the night supervisor, Trautman, waiting for him. He was pacing by the door.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tom asked, as he looked the portly Brooklyn native up and down.

“Overtime,” he said, exhaling acrid cigarette smoke and rolling his narrow eyes at Royston.

“Overtime? For what? We’re way ahead of schedule.”

Trautman shrugged, “Damned if I know. All I was told is the people in charge want this project finished and quick. Until it’s done, they are offering to pay the guys as many hours as they can put in.”

“What’s the rush?”

“They didn’t say. All I know is they want the lagoon bowl finished and filled by Sunday.”

“Next Sunday?”

“I wish.
This
Sunday.”

“Today is Wednesday. We need at least a couple of weeks.”

Trautman nodded. “I know, I told them the same. They said there’s a bonus in it for us if we can get it done on time.”

Tom nodded and looked at the imposing dome, grateful to be standing in its cooling shadow.

“I don’t see why they’re so desperate to get this thing finished. What’s the rush?” Royston asked.

“I don’t know, and frankly I don’t care. I’m on overtime rate, so as long as they pay me to be here, I’ll be here.”

Tom nodded, squinting at the pristine blue sky.

“Well, in that case, I guess we better get back to work.”

“I’ll follow you in, I’m just going to finish this smoke.” Trautman said, holding up the tempting looking cancer stick to Royston.

Resisting the urge to snatch it from his hand and smoke it, Tom put on his hard hat and went inside.

CHAPTER 44

The creature went deep, attempting to quell the searing pain where the barbed harpoon had struck. The
Victorious
followed at a distance, matching every move and change of direction the creature made.

“Do you still have him?” Russo asked.

Andrews lowered his headset.

“Signal is good and strong. We’re right behind it.”

“I wonder where it’s heading?”

“Somewhere familiar. A territorial hotspot. Somewhere our fish likes to call home.”

Both Andrews and Russo looked at Morrison, who was leaning on the wall, deftly rocking with the motion of the boat as he hand rolled a cigarette.

“What makes you so sure?” Andrews asked.

“Hunch,” Morrison replied as he licked the edge of the cigarette paper and rolled it tight.

“This is a multimillion dollar mission,” Andrews countered. “I think we need more than a hunch.”

Morrison sighed and looked at Russo, then turned his attention to Andrews.

“Well, whilst you have been here hanging off Russo’s dick, I’ve been tracking this thing. I’ve also been studying its feeding patterns. It’s all there if you choose to look for it. Since it found its way into the world, our fish has been without challenge.”

Despite the no smoking signs, Morrison popped the cigarette into his mouth and lit it, exhaling through his nostrils. Andrews looked about ready to protest when Morrison continued speaking.

“When the harpoon dart hit our fish, it got him just here.”

Morrison pointed to the soft tissue above his eye. “It will have hurt. All those nerve endings will have come alive, and our fish here, he’s not used to pain. He’s used to being king of the seas. So he runs and we chase. According to the radar, he’s gone deep, and my guess is to try to cool the burning. Our fish isn’t used to it. It panics. What would you do in that situation?”

Andrews stammered as Morrison watched him.

“Let me help you out,” he said, letting Andrews off the hook. “You’d go somewhere familiar. Somewhere you could go and lick your wounds. You’d go back to wherever you called home. That’s where our fish is going, and we’re gonna follow it.”

“Do we have any idea where?” Andrews asked.

Russo looked to Morrison, who took a long drag of his cigarette. “Antarctica is my guess. Back to where it came from.”

Andrews nodded, and Morrison grinned, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“Keep me informed.” Russo said, as he headed below deck.

Andrews watched Morrison as he smoked.

“Let me ask you something,” he said.

“Shoot.”

“Do you think we can do it? Catch it? Clone it?”

“I don’t know much about that,” Morrison replied as he exhaled more acrid cigarette smoke. “All I do know is that this is a big, dangerous animal. If it wanted to, it could tear this boat apart and none of us would stand a chance. Then I remind myself it’s just a fish, and if we use our brain and outsmart it, we can take it easily enough.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

Morrison shrugged, “If I’m wrong, I don’t think it really matters. We won’t live long enough to worry about it.”

CHAPTER 45

Russo made his way below deck towards where his prisoners were held. Although he would rather not go to the trouble of getting his hands dirty, it was looking increasingly likely he would have to, especially with their insistence on interfering in the mission every chance they got. With the creature tagged, all that remained was to track the creature to its lair. Once the location was established, Russo would contact the 880-foot Navy battleship Titus.

Officially decommissioned in the mid-nineties, the records said the ship had been dismantled and sold for parts, however, the truth was it had never left dock. Its serial numbers had been changed, as had all its markings identifying its previous lineage. In essence, it was a ghost ship. Russo’s department had spent a small fortune converting the boat to accommodate his needs. Its innards had been removed and remodelled, the aircraft hangers replaced with laboratories and rooms to house the 2,000 strong staff on board. The bulk of the remodelling and much of the multi-million dollar budget had been spent on the five hundred foot long holding tank designed to transport the creature. Located centrally in the hull, the corridor like enclosure was designed to hold the animal in place safely without allowing it the manoeuvrability to let it cause problems for the duration of its journey and overbalance the ship. At the bow, seawater was fed via pressurised tubes through the tank and out of rearward facing exit pipes, ensuring a constant flow of seawater allowed the creature to breathe. There had been some concerns over the stress, which may be caused to the creature under such conditions, each of which Russo had swept aside. Even if the creature didn’t survive, he was still confident the cloning could still take place. His team were under instructions to take blood and tissue samples from the creature as soon as it was on board. He fished a fresh roll of mints out of his pocket, popped one in his mouth and entered the storage room.

“What the hell do you want?” Mackay said, spitting on the floor for good measure.

Russo simply smiled and sucked his mint, rolling it around his mouth.

“How long do you plan to hold us here?” Clara asked.

“That depends on the three of you.” Russo replied, sitting on the lip of a wooden box filled with potatoes. “I’ve come here to offer you all a chance to fix this mess, and save us all any more of this unpleasantness.”

He waited for an answer, and when none came, he continued. “I appreciate we’ve had a few disagreements.”

“Disagreements? You had an innocent man shot.” Mackay snapped.

“That was a mistake, I won’t deny that. You left me with no choice.”

“Yeah, Project Blue right?” Rainwater said.

Russo’s smile faltered for a second.

“I’m surprised you know about that,” He said to Rainwater whilst looking at Clara. “Although, maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“It’s a mistake. You know it as well as we do.” Clara said, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

“I thought you were all for conserving these creatures? Studying them for the benefit of science.” He countered, reaffirming his grin. “You need to pick a side and stick to it, Miss Thompson.”

“It’s not about sides,” Rainwater cut in, “it’s about doing the right thing. This isn’t something you can weaponise or control.”

“You have it wrong. You see me as some kind of monster, hell bent on creating the next super weapon to feed my own ego. What about the other benefits? What if this creature has properties that can advance science? Cure diseases? Would you call me a monster then, or a visionary?”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Clara said, the colour rushing to her cheeks. “You don’t care about advances in science, or the safety of us or anyone involved. All you care about is completing the mission.”

“For someone who is supposed to examine evidence with an open mind, that’s a pretty judgemental viewpoint.”

“What did you expect?” She shouted, surprising both Mackay and Rainwater. “You put a gun to my head, you lock me in here, and you threaten me. I only came here to do a job, not risk my life.”

“And yet here you are. I wonder if you know what side you are on.”

“I don’t have a side!” She screamed, glaring at Russo. “I’m a scientist, I thought I was going to be able to study a brand new species, I didn’t expect to be treated like a prisoner.”

“You aren’t a prisoner.” He shot back, for the second time, his smile faltering.

“Shoving us in here and locking the door says otherwise.” Rainwater cut in.

“Look,” he said holding his palms up and finding his greasy smile again, “we’re going off track here. I came here to make peace, not point the finger.”

“Tell that to Ox.” Mackay grunted.

“I’m sorry about your friend, I’m afraid he was a -”

“Don’t say casualty of war, or collateral damage or any of that shit,” Mackay said, standing and taking a half step towards Russo. “As it is, I’m only a hair away from breaking those fucking shiny white teeth of yours.”

“Take it easy,” Rainwater said, hopping to his feet and standing between Mackay and Russo.

“You should listen to your friend.” Russo said, his confidence restored now there was a physical barrier between him and Mackay. “You can either move into a nice cabin with a window and relax until this mission is over, after which, we will drop you back at port and let you go on your way, or you can stay here. All you need to do is sign disclaimers, confidentiality agreements bound by-”

“Forget it.” Mackay said. “You’re going down for this, Russo. You can shove your disclaimers up your arse.”

“Do you speak for everyone?” Russo said, eyebrows raised as he looked at Rainwater and Clara in turn. Neither of them spoke, and so he sighed and shook his head. “So you’d all rather stay locked in here and face trial for interfering in government business? If that happens, believe me, I’ll make sure you all rot in the worst hellhole on the planet.
That
, I can guarantee.”

He looked at them again, waiting for a reaction. When none came, he sighed and shook his head.

“It seems I’ve done all I can. If you don’t want my help, I’m afraid I have no choice but to have you arrested as soon as we return to port. I wish the outcome would have been different.”

“We’ll take our chances.” Rainwater said. Stepping back alongside Mackay.

“Very well, you can’t say I didn’t try.”

“You know this won’t work, don’t you?” Clara said as Russo walked towards the door.

“That question might concern me if I thought you had the slightest idea about our ability to complete this mission. We have everything under control.”

“Are you sure about that? Are you absolutely certain you’ve taken everything into account?”

Russo hesitated, and then turned back towards Clara.

“Let me guess, you think we’ve missed something, some minor detail, some overlooked thing you have seen? Let me assure you, there are greater minds than yours working on this.”

Clara flinched, and seeing the chink in her armour, Russo exploited it.

“Really?” he said, his grin growing wider. “Did you really, genuinely, think a multimillion dollar mission, vital to the national security of this country, would be dictated by the opinions and guidance of a mere marine biologist?”

Clara took a step back, as Russo continued to turn the screw.

“You were only here to verify our findings. We had our own people making the real decisions.”

“Andrews said…”

“Andrews says whatever I tell him to say. Just like he thinks whatever I tell him to think, eats when I tell him to eat, and shits when I tell him to shit.”

Russo’s decimation of her had been astounding, deflating her confidence in just a few seconds. Mackay stepped forward, teeth gritted as he put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Forget this prick,” he said, glaring at Russo. “He might think he has all the answers, but there’s one thing he hasn’t allowed for.”

“Oh really?” Russo said, growing more and more confident. “And what might the greatest brains on the planet have forgotten that the fisherman has remembered?”

Now it was Mackay’s turn to grin, and the wildness in his eyes made Russo squirm a little.

“Out there. You fucks might have all the answers, gadgets, and high tech shit a simple fisherman like me can’t understand, but you don’t know the sea. I’ll bet my arse you don’t know these waters.”

“Is that supposed to frighten me? Water is water. The
Victorious
is perfectly safe.”

“Aye it is now,” Mackay shot back. “Wait until we hit those cold Antarctic seas.”

Russo squirmed, and his grin took on a fixed, elastic look. Just as Russo had done to Clara, so Mackay did to him, turning the screw without mercy.

“When you get out there, you’ll have violent seas. Waves of forty feet at least, maybe as high as sixty. This smooth ride you are enjoying now will become a fuckin’ rollercoaster. Temperature will be well below freezing. With the wind chill, it will feel like knives hacking at your bones. It will be so cold, you won’t be able to feel your hands or feet. Our monster ploughs on of course. He doesn’t care about the cold. This big old ship of yours, she ain’t designed to be out here. See a big hull like this is prime for ice build-up. The spray thrown by the bow will freeze to the ship. What happens then is it starts to weigh you down. Steering don’t work so well. Suddenly, this boat you are so sure of, starts getting tossed around by the waves like paper in a breeze. By now, all these braniacs you have on board are feeling sick. Every roll of the boat feels like it’s gonna capsize her, every wave you crest feels like you are goin’ nose first into the ocean.

“Your captain, as experienced as he might think he is, won’t know what to do. Maybe a wave comes, a rogue eighty footer, catches you broadside. It hits with the force of a thousand freight trains. Already weighted with ice, the boat goes over. Up becomes down, left becomes right. The lights go out. You might hear screaming. You might feel icy water pouring in on you. You don’t know where from. You don’t know how to get out.”

Mackay grinned, as everyone looked on and watched him in awe.

“Boat like this, heavy with ice will go down in maybe ten minutes. Less if the waves slam it again. This water, it’s cold enough to take the breath away from even a gobshite like you. Within sixty seconds of being submerged, your core temperature will drop. Hypothermia sets in. A strong man might hang on for fifteen, twenty minutes. A scrawny shit like you won’t make it more than five, if you manage to escape the vessel before it sinks that is. You’ll be in the water, wind raging in your ears, body so numb with cold you won’t be able to feel if you are still kicking to stay afloat. Come the end, you’ll beg to die.”

“You underestimate how strong I am,” Russo said without conviction.

“Maybe,” Mackay replied, “maybe not. You’ll beg to die, because if the water don’t get you, then our beastie is still out there and you can bet your arse it will come calling when it gets hungry.”

“Then it looks like we’ll all die together.”

Russo didn’t quite manage to sound as confident as he had hoped.

“Aye, maybe we will. Difference between you and me, is I know what to do to try to survive. You might not think so now you arrogant prick, but you’ll need me before I need you, especially when those seas start to get rough.”

Russo opened his mouth, and clamped it shut again. He looked at them all in turn, and then closed and locked the door.

“I hope that was a bluff,” Clara said quietly.

“I only wish it was.” Mackay replied.

Five miles ahead, the creature continued to head into colder waters as the
Victorious
gave chase.