by B. C. CHASE
Aubrey moved in to hug her, “Maggie! I'm sorry.”
“You know the last thing my daughter said to me before she left for college? She said, ‘you’ve been a slave to that guy your whole life for nothing, mom!’” Maggie was sobbing. “And you know what? She’s right. I really have thrown away my life. And for what?”
By now they had reached the top of the escalator and moved to take a seat at a cafe along a wall of windows with a view of the city.
A hand on Maggie’s arm, Aubrey said, “Maggie, who paid for your daughter to go to that college? Wasn’t it you with the money that this job gave you? You haven’t worked for nothing! You’ve done it for your family. So don’t ever think that it wasn’t worthwhile. You taught your kids to work hard even when it’s tough. Maybe they don’t realize it now, but someday when they’re working hard and they want to quit, they’ll look back and say, ‘Mom didn’t quit! Mom kept going. And so can I!’”
Maggie looked up, a smile appearing through her tears, “You think so?”
“I’m sure so, Maggie.”
When they returned to the hotel, Henry, to Aubrey's shock (and chagrin), asked to dine with her at one of the Hotel's restaurants. Maggie had gone up to her room, and while Aubrey wasn't particularly amused with him now, she didn't want to eat alone, and certainly couldn't afford any of the restaurants herself, so she acquiesced.
Pearl Liang Restaurant
The meal of Asian seafood began in awkward silence, each of them sipping their soup quietly. Finally, she broke the quiet, “So why did you ask me out?”
"I did not ask you out," he said matter-of-factually.
“You asked me on a date. Isn't that asking someone out?”
“I asked you to have a meal with me. I don't qualify that as 'asking out.'”
“Okay, so why'd you ask me to have a meal with you?” she raised her hands in the air.
He swallowed, “Actually . . . I . . . I find myself enjoying your company, somehow.” He said it as if the fact amazed even him.
Despite herself, she was pleased by his comment. With as much disinterest as she could feign, she said, “I'll take that as a compliment.”
His face, which had been expressionless until now, broke into a grin, “I have no objection to that.”
Emboldened by this, she said, “You haven't made it easy for me to enjoy your company, ya know.”
“I'm your boss. That comes with the territory.”
“It's not that you're my boss. It's your attitude. Especially about the Biobots.”
He sat back, rolling his eyes, “Oh not this again.”
“I don't understand how you can justify it to yourself! How can you look at those kids and not see people?”
“It's simple science, Aubrey. These things are not done in some secret evil labs; they are possible after years of painstaking research. Without the 'self' gene, Biobots are not aware of their own existence. They don't seek self-fulfillment, they're not proud. If you didn't give them a stimulus, they probably wouldn't do anything at all.”
“How do you know that?”
“I've done extensive reading on this.”
“Well, how do you know that what you're reading isn't just telling you what you want to hear?”
“These are peer-reviewed scientific journals. This has been scrutinized to death by scientists everywhere around the world. It's not Frankenstein. The 'self' gene is real and it's what makes us human. Put it in an ape and it would be a man.”
“But what is your heart saying? What about your conscience?”
“You mean Jiminy Cricket? Since when did some hocus pocus feelings have any basis—” he interrupted himself, “This is science! Science tells us they aren’t people!”
“Science can’t say what only your heart can tell.”
Henry sucked in a breath, eyeing her with the focus of a serpent. He said, “Now this is a situation Aubrey where you would be better off keeping your personal feelings and your work separate. If you want to pass judgment on my business affairs, you need to do so in your mind alone.”
“Oh, so I'm on the job now? Having this date with you is part of my work with you? After dinner, what will it be? A lap dance?”
“Now really, that isn't fair,” he said, looking up above her head despondently.
“Well either this is me on my time off and we're having an adult conversation where I can tell you how I feel, or it isn't!”
“I don't want to hear you tell me how to run my business. That's all.”
“Well, the way I feel about your business is part of me. Either you appreciate me for who I am or . . . .”
He was seething. Through clenched teeth he growled, “Enough! That's enough! I want you out of my sight!” He was very loud, and the restaurant's din came to an abrupt silence, with servers and diners alike pausing to stare at him. He was standing, his palms face down on the table.
Aubrey was stunned, and embarrassed. They were both angry, but his sudden outburst seemed oddly out of place. She stared at him for a moment as the activity in the restaurant resumed. Then she said quietly, “You're a freak. And, yeah, I’ll get out of your sight. I'm going home!” She stood up and spun around to walk past the host's station and out to the busy sidewalk.
Lake Vostok
Doctor Ming-Zhen's eyes opened. His head throbbed. His mouth was incredibly dry, parched with thirst. The lights were on: he saw the white sterility of the cabin. The oxygen monitor read: 10.
Ten minutes of oxygen left.
He looked out the bubble. The other submarine was very close and a robotic arm was fastened to one of the ubars on the side.
With a stabbing headache, it was hard for him to think, but he thought he understood. His submersible was being pulled through the water by the other one.
Doctor Toskovic was dragging him somewhere. He hoped it was back to the borehole. He was about to speak, but instead he froze in fear.
Suddenly there was a thud as, out of the blackness, a body in a wetsuit collided with the acrylic glass. Tiny fish were pecking at the skin from all sides. At first he couldn't see the face, but the hair waved softly out from the head. As the body rotated, the light fell upon the ashen visage, allowing him to see gaping eyes and an open mouth. He immediately recognized the face.
It was Ivan Toskovic.
The corpse rolled off his sub and continued to sink into the abyss. His heart was thumping in his chest uncontrollably. He took a moment to calm his breathing, wiping the sweat from his face. His hands were trembling, and he felt a strange tingling in his extremities. Without doubt, he had never been more terrified in his life. Gathering himself, he tried to think rationally.
Doctor Ming-Zhen did not know what was in the other submarine, but he knew he didn't want to meet it.
The oxygen showed: 8.
There was light ahead, above. It took him a moment to recognize what it was: the pressurizing chamber at the bottom of the shaft. He was being taken straight towards it.
The submarine in front rose vertically. As it did, the rounded glass top gradually came into view. Inside, he saw the back of a large bulb-shaped head, hairless, with moist-looking white skin. He also saw a pair hands, each with six, long fingers, swiftly working the controls. The head was twitching back and forth as it worked with a devoted intensity and mechanical speed that was completely inhuman.
He only had a chance for a brief glimpse before the head sunk down beyond his view into the submarine and he was left with a heart-pounding terror.
6 minutes of oxygen.
Whatever was being planned in the other submarine was surely going to take place soon, and he did not want to wait to find out what that was. He anxiously eyed the pressure chamber. It was so close, he could almost have reached out from the top of his sub and touched it. If he tried to power his vessel to it, it would pull on the other one and alert whatever was inside. The pressure of the water outside prevented escape that way, plus even if he was able to leave his submarine and enter
the chamber, how would he get up the shaft?
A sudden metallic bang right outside his submarine made him jump. He felt the sub vibrate with another jolting sound. Then he felt something grip his arm. It was a glossy, white hand with the same six fingers he had seen. The arm it was attached to was projecting straight out from the metal of the interior wall. And the grip was pulling him, pulling him towards the wall. He was entirely immobilized by the hand: either from terror or some other force he didn't understand.
The vest and straps that held him in place provided no resistance to his body. With horror, he watched the vest sink into and through his chest. As his arm touched the wall, he felt a cold sensation, and pressure. His arm was disappearing into the wall; the cold and the pressure, he realized, was the water. As his face approached the side, he recalled his training in China. A change in pressure could cause his lungs to explode. He instantly exhaled, clearing all the air from his lungs. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he was in the water.
He could see the long, white arm extending up towards a body, but most of it was concealed behind the other submarine so he could not see the face.
He didn't want to see the face.
The powerful hand pushed him into the other sub, and once again he passed through a wall. As soon as he was fully within the vessel, the hand released him, and he dropped to the floor.
He was not wet: it was as if he had never been in the water at all. He jumped up and took immediate action. All he had to do to get the submarine to enter the pressurizing chamber was press one command. The process was entirely automated.
He pressed it, then worked to disengage the robotic arm to release the other sub. He looked up, out the bubble, and saw the doors of the pressurizing chamber opening. He felt the thruster engaging. He was moving towards the chamber.
He climbed up to the foot holsters and fastened the vest around his chest, pressed the button to tighten. When he looked back up, he saw a face just outside the bubble staring down at him.
It was the giant face of the elasmosaur, the jagged teeth as menacing as before. This time, though, instead of the dull green color they had been the last time he saw them, the eyes now glowed white. A tremendous billowing smoke poured from its nostrils, and a white hot flame erupted from its mouth.
He felt something grip both his ankles. It was the white hands. He was pulled down out of the vest. The elasmosaur's head swept out of view and suddenly the grip on his ankles loosened. The hands jerked back, out of the submarine.
Shaking with fear, he looked again through the glass. The submarine was just under the ice, sliding into the chamber. He clambered back up and snapped himself into place. Looking out from the chamber, he could see the elasmosaur's body. The long neck circled up, and crushed in its jaws a white body surrounded by glowing embers. The elasmosaur threw it down into the deep, and blasted it with a tremendous fire. When the flame subsided, there was nothing there. The white body had vanished without a trace. The doors to the chamber closed just as the elasmosaur's face looked up seemingly to stare him straight in the eye.
The water in the chamber gradually lowered. Finally, the water was out and the spiraling valve above the sub spun open. The thruster began to rotate powerfully, vibrating him in the vest, and, slowly, the submarine began to rise. Clearing the chamber, the engine roared more and more loudly, shooting the sub up faster and faster.
Doctor Ming-Zhen breathed a long sigh of relief. He was free from Lake Vostok.
Pearl Liang Restaurant
Henry sat there watching out the restaurant's glass. She had disappeared down the street in the crowds. He was fuming, feeling perfectly justified in his outburst. After all, she attacked him first. He had learned very early to react quickly to anything threatening. But as the seconds passed, his fumes began to dissipate and something made him extremely discomfited with his behavior. The longer he sat there, the more powerful the impression became and the more remorseful he grew to be, until he felt he could no longer sit idly.
He stood, and he did something he knew he had never done before.
He pursued someone he had wounded.
He was foggy on what he intended to do if he found her, but he very well suspected an apology would be in order. The thought made his heart sink. He paused. Make that two things he had never done before.
Aubrey.
Had he said her name aloud? He didn't know, but her name alone was enough to give him the bullocks he needed to go.
He rushed out the doors onto the busy sidewalk and looked everywhere. He called for her with a voice that sounded far more desperate than he intended.
The street was clogged with traffic and pedestrians pushed past him. There was no sign of her. He shook his head. He was just turning back to the door when he heard a voice crying out, "Henry!" To his relief, he saw her flapping her hand in the air through the crowd. So she'd been waiting for him. With a little more confidence, he took long strides towards her and quickened his pace until he was all but pushing people aside. Then, as neared her, he approached her slowly.
Finally standing before her, she looked up into his eyes. It was clear she had let off some steam, but the locomotive hadn't come to a complete stop. "Yes, jerk?" she said impatiently.
“Please—I'm British. Bastard is much preferred.”
“Okay,” she said, grinning despite herself. “Have it your way.”
There was silence between them.
She broke it, “In order to redress your mistake, you must take responsibility for it, I think is what you said to Lady Shrewsbury.”
He grinned sheepishly, “You have a remarkable memory.” Then, with extreme difficulty, he said, "I . . . I must apologize.”
She stared expectantly up at him. It was obvious she wasn't going to make it easy.
"I would be very grateful," he said, “if you wouldn't go.” Then, folding his hands together to twiddle his thumbs, and drawing a breath, he said, "I'll . . . um . . . I'll give every consideration to what you've said. About the Biobots.” He looked down, “I have more respect for your opinion than you know.”
“That's very flattering,” she said slowly, then finished rapidly, “but I'm still going.”
He gazed into her eyes, “Please stay with me. I know that I can be a 'jerk' as you say. But I feel as if I need you, somehow. I'd like to find out exactly why, or how.”
She bit her lip, looking touched. She sighed a very long sigh, glancing off to the side, “Okay, I guess. I'll stick around, for a while at least.”
He gazed appreciatively into her eyes, “Thank you. I know I don’t deserve it.”
As they returned to the restaurant, he said, “Not that this has any relevance, but, how, exactly, were you planning on getting back to New York?”
She frowned in a cute sort of way, “I hadn’t thought through it that far yet.”
China Academy of Sciences
“I will never return to Lake Vostok,” Doctor Ming-Zhen said through clenched teeth.
Yue Zhang, his superior, replied, “It is much different now. We have much larger submarines, it's practically civilized—almost like a resort.”
“I was in therapy for two years.”
“Post-traumatic stress, I know. Caused you to suffer from bipolar disorder. And other mental health nuisances. But the fact that you have fully recovered shows your resilience.”
“Why are you coming to me now? What has happened?”
Zhang looked down, “We saw what happened in Toskovic's submarine.”
At the sound of that name, Doctor Ming-Zhen's body froze. Quietly, he said, “I thought the data was irretrievable.”
“We were able to recover the data. We have video. We saw everything.”
Doctor Ming-Zhen felt a rush of adrenaline from fear. The nightmarish memories began to flood back.
“Now of course, all the samples that you brought back was the proof that you needed, everyone knows that. The DNA of every creature that was in the containers, and every
creature we brought up later, matched the DNA of today's animals with so little variance... You proved that there had been no major genetic change in species in thirty million years. No one disputes that. That's why the Academy's reputation was redeemed, and why your speaking schedule is so very full.”
“Yes.”
“You are considered the preeminent biological scientist today, the world over,” he said it with packaged enthusiasm.
“I will not dispute that,” Doctor Ming-Zhen said calmly.
“But no one believed your story about Toskovic. We all assumed that the trauma had been too much for you, that post-traumatic stress had given you delusions, hallucinations.” Zhang looked regretful. “We are sorry now. We were wrong.”
Doctor Ming-Zhen stared at him stoically.
“We have seen what actually happened. It is as you said. Everything.” Zhang took a deep breath, “And what's more, we now know the complete truth, even what you did not. Toskovic—“
Doctor Ming-Zhen raised a hand. “Please. . . . do not say that name.” It made his skin crawl. “And don't tell me.”
“But you should know. Tosk—his body was pushed out of the submersible shortly after it descended. And you might wonder, how could the submarine have still been operating if water flooded in through the hatch?”
“Please. I want to hear nothing else.”
Zhang leaned forward, “But that's just it. The hatch never opened. He was pushed out through it. Like a ghost. We saw it happen. And once he was in the water, he drowned. And then it appeared.”
Doctor Ming-Zhen closed his eyes.
“It looked just the way you said it did. It took the controls and piloted the submarine, spoke to you in Toskovic's voice, everything.”