Thrilled to Death

by James Byron Huggins

  “Well how did you ever plan to get out of this cavern, Frank? How did you plan to escape this place if Leviathan ever got loose?”

  “We never anticipated that we would ever have to escape the cavern, Connor! The vaults were just to trap Leviathan so the security personnel could corner it and kill it.”

  “And the nuclear fail-safe? What was that for?”

  Frank hesitated. “The nuclear fail-safe was a contingency plan in case of some kind of emergency. I never really expected to create something like this. I never... I never thought it would be needed.”

  “Well think again, Frank.” Connor knelt to study the vault door. After a moment he looked up. “You’re certain that GEO won’t open any of the doors?”

  “GEO will only do what it’s programmed to do.”

  Connor stared silently at the vault.

  “We can raise the door manually,” Barley said, stepping forward. “There’s an emergency pump built into the side of the vault. It works on hydraulics. Takes less than fifteen seconds.”

  Frank tensed. “But listen, Connor, if you manually raise that door, GEO is going to interpret it as a broken circuit and it’s going to initiate nitrogen pheromones stored above the door. None of us will survive the atmosphere.”

  “We’ll use gas masks,” Barley countered.

  “Nitrogen is stored at minus 150 degrees Celsius,” Frank said, turning to him. “This room will be frozen, Barley. We’ll be dead from hypothermia in less than ten seconds.”

  Connor bent forward, placing both hands against the titanium vault. “GEO is just a machine, Frank.” His voice was distant. “It’s like you said, a machine just does what it’s told. Or what it thinks it’s told, which means we have to trick it.”

  Standing, Connor moved to the vault’s control panel. He took out his utility tool and removed the screws that held the cover plate. In a few more seconds he had reworked the circuit, leaving two small wires twisted together and dangling.

  “That should be the circuit that tells GEO that the door is closed,” he muttered. “As long as that circuit isn’t broken, GEO shouldn’t know that we’ve opened the door. So go ahead, Barley. Time to dance.”

  The big lieutenant bent without expression and began working the short handle of the hydraulic pump. Instantly the vault opened a foot, two feet, moving steadily upward. Connor saw an inch-thick steel cable quivering at the inside corner of the door, holding the tremendous hydraulic pressure that kept the vault upraised.

  Sweating from the effort, Barley stepped back. “Let’s hope we don’t have to do that in a hurry,” he said, unslinging his rifle. He bent, peering under the doorway. “It’s clear. Let’s move out. This tunnel should lead back to the Command Center.”

  ***

  Thor dug bloody fingers into stone.

  Trying to hold a grip on the rock, his hands were numb and bleeding. His four hundred fifty pounds pressed against the wall, dragging him down. His breaths exploded against the rock in hard blasts, mixing with grave-dust. Sweat streaked his face, soaked his hair, falling from his bearded chin.

  How much farther^

  The darkness beneath him seemed depthless, but Thor knew he had climbed down at least sixty feet from the end of the wire. So there couldn’t be more than thirty, or even forty feet, remaining.

  Depthless darkness ...

  Straining and trembling, Thor glared for a more secure handhold, but he had reached a section as smooth as glass, the sides of the wall perfectly cylindrical. He glanced up, frantic, forearms dead with fatigue and pain, and in frenzied fear he couldn’t even find the handholds he had used to lower himself to this precarious position.

  The battle-ax dragged him back from the wall, and his boots slipped again from their narrow purchase. Groaning, Thor jammed bloody fingers painfully into the rock.

  A choked cry of agony escaped him as his boots slipped off the wall and his entire weight went solidly to his fingertips, shredding his fingernails. He scrambled for a more secure hold on the smooth wall, slipping, scrambling again, slipping . . . Teeth clenched in pain, Thor cast a wild look down—pain, fear, darkness, an abyss ... Bellowing in agony, unable to ascend or climb, Thor clung savagely at the edge of a long and bitter darkness.

  ***

  “Can GEO track Leviathan?”

  Frank answered Connor’s terse question as they moved. “Yes. GEO always knows where Leviathan is.”

  “So where is Leviathan now?”

  Lightly touching the headset, Frank asked, “GEO, what is the exact location of Leviathan?”

  “Switch to the speaker system,” Connor said. “I want to hear this.”

  “Leviathan is in Alpha Corridor,” the computer replied over the speaker system in its impersonal voice. “Leviathan is standing at the Observation Room.”

  Halting in place, Frank stared at nothing. Connor froze beside him, watching. A cold pall of silent fear seemed to cross the scientist’s face. His hand continued to touch the headset.

  “GEO, what is the brain activity of Leviathan?” he asked.

  “Leviathan’s EEG activity is at maximum speed and maximum intensity.”

  Head turning like a doll, Frank looked at Connor. “GEO,” he asked more quietly, “how long has Leviathan been stationary at the Observation Room?”

  “Leviathan has been stationary at the Observation Room for forty-six minutes and twelve seconds. ‘

  Frank’s face went white.

  “What is it?” Connor asked.

  “It’s about to attack.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “It’s standing beside the Observation Room so it can study the structural integrity of this place.”

  “Study the structure? It’s an animal!”

  “We’ve got to move,” Frank said, running forward. “We’ve got to reach Chesterton before Leviathan reaches the entrance of Alpha Corridor. I think that it’s discovered a way to defeat the vault!”

  Chapter 16

  A graveyard-dead disbelief rose from the depths of Chesterton’s sullen eyes. It was the look of a man who absolutely could not believe the dismal, dark fate that had been delivered to him.

  “Give me that again, Doctor,” he muttered.

  “All right,” Frank said, leaning over a computer terminal, “let me put it to you as simply as possible. Leviathan is a programmed organism that has specialized knowledge available to it from memory implantation.”

  “What kind of knowledge are we talking about?”

  The scientist raised his hands. “Any kind of knowledge, Chesterton! Leviathan has an entire encyclopedia of knowledge in its memory network. It has knowledge of countries, capitals, ocean currents, climatic conditions, national populations. It had to have all that information if we were ever going to release it into the lake. It had to know how to find its way to the targeted armies, capitals, whatever. It had to—”

  “Wait a minute, Doctor. I thought Leviathan’s memory implantation dealt mostly with military tactics.”

  “Yeah, Chesterton, Leviathan understands whatever tactics your people put on those tapes. But Leviathan has a constantly evolving neural network that is always—”

  “Frank!” Chesterton slammed both hands on a desk. “I’m tired of science reports! Just give it to me in English!”

  “Fine!” Frank responded, leaning back. “I’ll make it simple for you, Chesterton.” He pointed solidly at the Alpha vault. “Leviathan is about to come through that vault like a freight train! And you’d better get ready for it because nothing can stop it!”

  “You said it can’t melt titanium!”

  “Now I’m saying that Leviathan has found a weakness in the construction that even we don’t know about. And you’d better believe me, Chesterton, because I know this creature.”

  Frowning, Chesterton stood silent a moment “All
right, Frank,” he said finally. “Then tell me this: What is that thing going to do when it comes through that doorway?”

  “The first thing it’s going to do is knock out the lights.”

  “Then it will be in the dark,” Chesterton muttered.

  “It doesn’t need light, Chesterton.”

  “It can see in the dark? You never told me that!”

  “You never asked.”

  “I ... I cannot believe this.” Chesterton lowered his head with the words, looked up after a moment. He placed his hands on his hips, leaning forward as he turned to Barley. “Lieutenant! Take all the C-4 and dynamite and whatever else you can find, and rig it up with a microwave switch at the exit of Alpha Corridor. And get it done yesterday!”

  “Yes sir!” Barley replied, was gone.

  A ponderous pause, with Chesterton staring at the vault. For a long time no one cared to speak.

  “What does any of this mean, Frank?” he asked finally. He shook his head, looking down at the floor. “What does any of this really mean?”

  Frank focused on him.

  “It means we’re not in control, Chesterton. It means we never were.”

  ***

  Roaring as his fingers were torn from the rock, Thor saw the metallic gleam to his left and decided ...

  Use the elevator cables!

  In the, frantic moment as his fingers tore from the rock, Thor slammed his boots forcefully against the wall and launched his titanic form through the air, sailing through darkness. And in the next second he crashed against the serpentine black cables to grasp wildly at the thinly-oiled, slick steel as he rebounded out and down.

  Instantly in the rushing, formless moment, Thor’s hand flashed out to strike a steel girder with bruising force, all his strength centered in the fingers of his hand.

  Bellowing in pain, Thor dug his fingers in the steel, trying to find a solid grip in the heavily greased elevator frame. But his great weight dragged him backward, his grip sliding on the thin oil. And yet for a herculean moment he held, his entire arm trembling with the strain while his other hand reached wildly at the cable, the steel, flashing down the rock for a wild swipe at an unseen crevice as vivid thoughts blasted his mind ...

  Innocent lives lost ... Evil eyes glowing ... Innocence consumed ... Evil devouring ... Darkness rising ...

  Thor snarled, scrambling savagely for a hold, but against his will he felt his grip slipping. Knowing he could not hold, he tried a sliding descent; but as he released the slightest pressure, he knew he had lost it all to darkness rising, rising, rising...

  Thor roared back into ...

  Black, rushing wind ...

  Falling...

  Chapter 17

  Leaving Jordan in the sleep of exhaustion, Beth walked into the Conference Room of the Housing Cavern. It was only a couple rooms away, and she knew that she could hear Jordan if he awoke crying.

  The computers were still secretly working to break the encryption, and there was nothing else she could do on that level. So she had locked the door and, to release a measure of anger, ventured out to confront the men responsible for this tragedy.

  She stalked coldly into a conference room to find Hoffman engaged in angry debate with an Army colonel, Blake, the one who had come to the surface and taken her into the cavern. And then there was Adler, the tall, mysterious figure who had arrived at the island three months ago. He stood beside the Russian named Tolvanos. Beth felt a grim pleasure at seeing the Russian’s nose and upper cheek swollen, badly bruised from where she had smashed the keyboard over his face.

  She glanced around the cavern, saw that all the overhead lights were working. But the big vaults that sealed the exits were still locked, shut solid. So she walked forward, eyes narrowing. She noticed distinctly that no one else in the room seemed willing to join the debate.

  “No!” Hoffman shouted, pointing his pipe at Adler. “You are the one responsible for this atrocity, Mr. Adler! It is not this incompetent Russian scientist that I have for so long despised!”

  “Likewise, Dr. Hoffman,’’ the Russian smiled.

  “I believe that the military has jurisdiction, here,” Adler replied, gesturing patiently to Blake. “So if you have any complaints I suggest you level them at those who—”

  “I do not lodge complaints with fools,” Hoffman said wearily. “Yes, Blake is an incompetent bootlicker who should have known better. But he is not ultimately responsible for this carnage because he did not replace Dr. Frank, a very capable scientist who knew quite well what this creature might do. It was you, Mr. Adler! It was you who called for an across-the-board replacement of this facility’s personnel so that you could complete unsafe testing to meet your schedule. And I know the reason.” Hoffman stepped forward. “Yes, I know that this has become a CIA Black Operation that will ultimately be used to destroy whatever enemies it is designated to destroy, military or civilian.”

  His condemnation was complete.

  “Yes, Mr. Adler, I am not so old that I cannot recognize the signs of covert subterfuge. But that does not excuse what you have done. Blake is a fool, yes. And Tolvanos is a monster, a merchant of death. But it is your personal ambition that has brought us to this regrettable hour. In your stupidity you challenged the higher reason of men who knew far better than yourself. You challenged, even, a force of nature and delivered us all to this peril.”

  Beth saw that Adler was unconcerned with what Hoffman thought of him. He seemed to be a man who held his own opinion as the only meaningful standard for measuring anything at all.

  “Dr. Hoffman,” Adler replied, “all great science is intimately bound to the fate of great men. To the fate of the entire world, for that matter. Because great science redefines nature as we know it, even changes nature. But this is no time for such a high-minded debate. At this moment there are more pressing issues confronting us.”

  Beth stepped into the confrontation, arms crossed. She made it clear by her physical position that she stood behind Hoffman in every way.

  “I want to tell you something,” she said, focusing coldly on Adler. And as the older man turned to her, Beth noticed a slight cut beneath the cheek, as if he had been hit.

  “Please, Mrs. Connor, I have no time for your—”

  “I don’t want to hear that garbage,” Beth said, thinking of her son. “And I don’t want to hear your pathetic drivel. I’m not here to argue with you, Adler. I came here to tell you something personal. And you’re going to hear it.”

  Colonel Blake snapped his fingers at the guard, a young man who held the only weapon in the room. “Escort Mrs. Connor back to her room,” he said sternly. “Ensure that she does not disturb us again.”

  Paling, the guard stood in place. He cast a quick glance at Beth and she returned it compassionately, knowing that Barley had instructed the man to leave her alone.

  Enraged by the soldier’s refusal to immediately obey his order, Blake turned forcefully: “That’s a direct order, soldier! Colonel Chesterton is very likely dead and that leaves me in command! I do not intend to let this situation deteriorate any further! Now do as you are told!”

  Swaying, the guard held his place. “I’m sorry, Colonel,” he replied. “But Colonel Chesterton gave me my last orders to hold all of you here. So you’re officially under arrest! And Lieutenant Barley told me not to disturb Mrs. Connor. I’ve got my orders.”

  Blake glared, as if he couldn’t comprehend what was happening. He stepped close to the guard. “Soldier,” he said, “we are in a grave situation. And you and I are probably the only military personnel still alive in this installation. So the line of command is clear. I am a colonel! You are a private! I give the orders and you obey them! Do you understand?”

  The soldier shifted nervously.

  Blake shouted, “Private! Do as you are told! The Army is a machine! And we do as we are told or the m
achine breaks down!” He paused briefly. “It’s true, yes, that Colonel Chesterton suffered a mental breakdown before his death and you cannot be blamed for obeying his orders. Nor will any regulation discipline be initiated against you. But that does not change the fact that Colonel Chesterton is dead and we need to resolve this situation!”

  A tense pause. “I’m sorry, sir,” the private finally responded. “I was given my last orders from Colonel Chesterton to secure you. That’s the extent of my duty. Mrs. Connor can do whatever she wishes.”

  For a long time Blake continued to stare, choked by his wrath. Then he turned away, fists clenched at his sides. Beth was too tired to smile.

  “Then I will give you an order, soldier,” Adler turned to the private. “I ultimately control this facility and since we don’t know whether Colonel Chesterton is alive or dead we must clearly have someone in command. Please escort Mrs. Connor back to her room.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” the guard replied without any hesitation whatsoever.

  Adler’s jaw set, and Beth felt a light laugh escape her. It was humorous to see that the authority of a probably dead Chesterton was more powerful than the wrath of a living Blake and Adler combined. She stepped forward, mouth tight. “So, Mr. Adler, you’re the one responsible for this?” she asked, her smile twisting into a chilling glare.

  “Mrs. Connor,” Adler gestured vaguely, “I do not have time for—”

  “Answer my question!”

  “Mrs. Connor!” Adler turned fully toward her. “Remember your station! You are only a supervisor of the Ice Station’s Communication Center and you deal exclusively with civilian affairs, which means that you have no right to question my orders!” He glared down. “Nor do you have the right to circumvent any security measures! Your attempt to break the security code was a grave – a grave crime.”

  “Oh, rest assured,” Beth replied, “I’m still going to smash your security code, Mr. Adler. I’m going to smash it into pieces and then I’m going to shove it down your throat. Because you’ll have to kill me before I let you do this to my family.”