Project Nemesis (A Kaiju Thriller) (23 page)

“What do you mean, who?” Woodstock asks.

Watson starts cleaning his glasses with his T-shirt. It’s a nervous habit that reveals he’s about to say something he thinks we won’t believe. “Well, it’s more than one ‘who’ actually.” He puts the glasses back on. “It—she—is two.”

32

“You’re saying our giant man-eating monster has multiple personalities?” I ask.

“Maybe,” Watson says. “I suppose.
But not really.
Your DNA is a combination of your mother and father, but you aren’t born with their personalities...though that might not be true in this case.”

“Not making a ton of sense,” I say.

Watson sits behind his three-screen computer station. He doesn’t necessarily need it, but it’s where he does his best thinking, or so he claims. I think it’s more of a security-blanket type of thing. The glow of electronics puts him at ease.
Makes him less nervous.
Even if he wasn’t overweight, his tech dependence would keep him out of the field.

“Let me backtrack for a minute,” he says. “I think I know who
Maigo
was.”

“Was?” Collins asks.

“She died about a week ago. And not well.” He brings the report up on his computer screen and turns to it. I know he doesn’t need to read it. He doesn’t forget anything he reads. But turning away from the three sets of eyes locked on him probably adds another layer of social defense. “
Maigo
Tilly
.”

“
Tilly
?” Collins says. “The name is familiar.”

“Her father is Alexander
Tilly
.
The third.
They’re Boston elite. His wife was in the news a lot, for charity donations and because she was a babe.”

“Again with
the
was
,” I say.

Watson nods. “Mrs.
Tilly
was murdered in the family’s penthouse. Report says they think that
Maigo
walked in on the murder and was killed so she couldn’t identify the killer. Mr.
Tilly
is officially a person of interest, but there is no physical evidence linking him to the crime—”

“Prints don’t matter because it’s his home,” Collins says.
“Unless they found them on the murder weapon.”

“Which hasn’t been found,” Watson says. “
Maigo
fell into a coma.
Might have survived if she had received a liver transplant.”

“A transplant,” I say, sensing a connection. “
BioLance
was working on rapid organ growth and transplantation. Could she have been a test subject?”

“There is no doubt about that,” Watson says.

I’m not sure I want to ask, but I do. “Why?”

“Ashley gave us the samples you collected—I told you those Ziplocs would come in handy—and we had them tested in the FBI lab in Danvers.”

“You can get returns that fast?” I ask.

“Not normally, but I had them test it against names that had come up. Since
Maigo
was deceased and the case was an open investigation, we were able to compare the samples.” He frowns. “The...husk of human skin you found...”

“It was hers,” I say for him. “It was
Maigo’s
. They grew her.”

“It would seem so, but...” He runs his hands through his hair and pulls it a little. “Okay. Let’s switch gears for a minute so this makes sense. Remember Nemesis?”

“The Greek word written in blood,” I say, tensing at the memory.

“Right,” he says, “but it’s not just a word, it’s a name.”

“What
kinda
name is Nemesis?” Woodstock asks.

“The Greek goddess kind,” Watson says. “Nemesis was the personification of vengeance, retribution and cold, hard justice. Some legends depict her as being so consumed with avenging her subjects that she laid waste to everything and everyone in her path, including those who prayed to her in the first place, which some scholars view as a judgment on society.”

“A society that allows for horrible things to happen is just as guilty as the individual who commits the act?” I say. It’s a twisted way of thinking, but in a weird sort of way, it makes sense.

“Right,” he says. “Nemesis is most often depicted as a beautiful woman with wings. She’s occasionally holding the scales of justice, but more often a sword. And there are a few images, some of the oldest, that depict her wrath as a dark, destructive form closer to—”

“A monster,” I say.

He nods.

“So you’re saying that this creature is an ancient goddess come to judge humanity?” Woodstock says. “Kind of hard to swallow, don’t you think?”

“I’m saying that this...creature, which we know for a fact is real, by the way, might have been the inspiration for the Nemesis myth. As the story was passed down verbally, the monster became a woman and once adopted into the Greek canon, the woman became the beautiful daughter of Zeus.”

Woodstock grunts his approval and rubs his chin.

“But the creature, if it is Nemesis, it’s also more than Nemesis.” Watson looks at me.
“The second sample.
Collins said you collected it from some razor wire?”

I nod. “It came from the creature—Nemesis—when it was smaller.”

“The results are inconclusive, but only because they can’t make sense of the results.” He opens the DNA analysis on the computer screen. It means nothing to me, so I just listen. “But I can. There are two distinct DNA strands.”

“It’s a hybrid,” Collins says.

“Yup.”
Watson point at the DNA results.
“The first half is the screwy part. It barely looks like DNA as we know it. It’s just a mess. The lab says the sample was contaminated, but I don’t think so. I think it’s simply something they’ve never seen before. It’s like nothing else on Earth.” He looks back at me, pushing his glasses higher onto his face so that his eyes grow a little larger. “Jon, this thing either evolved long before life as we know it began, or it’s alien. Like from another planet.”

“But not completely,” I say. I haven’t forgotten that only half of the DNA is alien. “The other half is human, right?”

He nods. “It’s
Maigo
. I think she probably shed her human skin as her non-human body grew. Like how
bull moose
molt their antlers as they grow larger.”

Woodstock looks to the ceiling and walks away, clearly disgusted.

Collins looks about ready to tear someone’s head off.

I must look similar because Watson cringes and says, “Don’t blame the messenger.”

“No one is mad at you, Ted,” I tell him. “It’s just...”

“Sick,” Collins says, completing my thought. “Who would do that to a little girl? And why?”

Ted shrugs. “Best guess is that they were using the alien DNA to enhance organ growth somehow. Maybe speed it up. You mentioned the creature was growing quickly.”

“Very quickly,” I say. “So the creature that laid waste to Maine and killed thousands of people is one part Nemesis, one part human girl?”

Ted nods, “But given the creature’s appearance and the shed human skin, I think the non-human DNA is becoming dominant, which helps when we get to the business of killing it, but it’s also very bad news.”

“How so?”
I ask.

“It means she’s becoming fully Nemesis, goddess of vengeance who strikes down men and women, not just for their crimes, but also for their hubris and even evil thoughts.” He turns to the screen on his right, opens a new window and reads. “‘To every mortal is thy influence known, and men beneath thy righteous bondage groan; for every thought within the mind concealed is to thy sight perspicuously revealed. The soul unwilling reason to obey, by lawless passion ruled,
thine
eyes survey. All to see, hear, and rule, O power divine, whose nature equity contains, is
thine
.’ That’s from a Greek hymn. And if it’s true, if Nemesis will exact vengeance on the human race based on our thoughts—”

“Yeah,” I say. “I get it. We’re all fair game.”

“Not just fair game,” Watson says. “We’re screwed.”

“Unless we kill it,” I say. It comes out sounding bold and confident, but then I remember what happened in Portland. A hundred soldiers, five heavy machine guns, a grenade launcher and a
frikken
missile strike had absolutely no effect, other than pissing the thing off. I’m not sure what it will take to kill Nemesis, but it’s not going to be men on the ground. We’re going to need the full power of America’s armed forces against this thing. I just don’t know where. Thinking of the military reminds me of General Gordon. “What about the General?
And Endo?
Anything new on them?”

“Nothing,” Watson says. “But I think it’s safe to say both are employed by some secret division of
Zoomb
, who somehow acquired a DNA sample of Nemesis. But I seriously doubt there is a paper or digital trail that would reveal as much. Besides, it might have all been legal.”

“Trying to kill Collins and I, not to mention murdering the Johnsons, is very much against the law,” I say.

When I see Watson frown deeply I realize that he probably knew the Johnsons. “Sorry,” I say, and I should probably say more, but I’m struck with a thought. “Why would
Zoomb
hire an active duty U.S. general whose career wasn’t at all technology-based?”

Watson’s frown disappears as the question takes root. “That’s a good question.”

“Can you access Gordon’s records?” When Watson nods, I say, “Check his last deployment. Where was he?”

After a few seconds of furious typing, Watson says, “Here’s the brief.
Looks like he was in Alaska.
There was an accidental death at a training exercise involving U.S. Marines and Japanese Defense Forces. A Master Sergeant Lenny Wilson was shot and killed when a weapon was dropped and discharged despite it not being a live-fire exercise.”

“Is there a name given for the soldier whose weapon discharged?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says.
“Uh.
Katsu
.
Katsu
Endo.” He looks up quickly. “That’s him! Endo! He was there, too.” He looks back to the screen. “The General flew in and shut down the exercise. A month later, he resigned and...
hold
on. The brief includes a location.
Coordinates.”

He brings up a second program,
Zoomb
Planet, which provides a satellite view of the planet without using government resources. He punches in the coordinates and the view of the planet zooms to Alaska, then closer, and closer, the image resolving slowly as the computer tries to show the ever-changing images. When it stops, we have a top view of white sludge.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“Low res filler,” he says. “It’s what the software uses when there is no satellite coverage of a certain area. It’s the middle of nowhere, but there should be something.” He zooms out. “See, the surrounding terrain comes in clear enough.”

“Any reason that might happen?”

He laughs at me, scoffs really. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re using
Zoomb
software. There’s something there they don’t want anyone to see. This is the connection. Gordon found something in Alaska, and then used it to secure a position with
Zoomb
, and probably a good chunk of change.”

“Can we use an active satellite to take a look?” I ask.

His fingers fly over the keys. “Would normally take at least a day to get approval and
retask
, but we’ve got full access and a green light to use whatever resources we need.
Should take just an hour to get the satellite into position.”

“Do it,” I say. “And find out who owns that land now. If
Zoomb
is ultimately responsible for this mess, we’re taking them
down,
and Gordon with them.”