by B. C. CHASE
“Curious about what?”
“You know, who you are. What you like and don't like. What you believe in,” he handed her a cone. “Like, do you believe in God?”
“I'm Buddhist.”
“What does that mean?”
“I believe in Karma.”
“So you get what you gave, basic'lly?”
“Yes, basically.”
“I believe in Big G,” he said.
“Who is 'Big G?'”
“God.”
“One God?” she asked.
“Heck yeah.” Donte finished topping off a cone. “How could someone who created the universe be one of many? It’s one or none. It’s all or it’s nothing.” He paused, “So, how do you like the boat so far?”
She nodded enthusiastically, “I love it! I haven't seen much of it, yet, though. How about you?”
He nodded, “I've seen everything. It's tha bomb.”
She sighed, “My parents won’t let me explore.”
As they strolled back out towards the pool, she asked, “Do you think you'll spend any time in the youth club?”
“I think that depends,” he said.
“Depends on what?”
“Depends on if you will,” he grinned.
Abruptly, they were interrupted by a crew member, “No swim suits in restaurant, please.”
She was about to talk back, but Donte nodded, “Sorry, we forgot.” Then he led her out through the doors.
When they were out, she asked, “Why did you apologize to that man?”
He looked at her strangely, “'Cause I broke the rule.”
“No you didn't. We were only going to be in there for a minute.”
“The rule's the rule; no swim suits.”
“We're paying to be here,” she contradicted. “We can do what we want.”
“Your momma and daddy are payin'. Not you.”
She pursed her lips.
He asked, “Where's your room?”
“In the back, near the top. We have a balcony. Where are you?”
“Down in the bottom. We don't even have a window.”
Without thinking, she said, “I couldn't stay down there!”
He raised his eyes, “You’re a spoiled girl aren't you?”
She smiled, circling the ice cream with her tongue, “I usually get what I want.”
He laughed, “I was lucky to come on the ship at all. Momma won this cruise on a scratch-off, only two people. She let me come if I promised to stay out of her way.”
“Why did she not bring your father?”
He shrugged, looked away. “I don't give a crap if he came. Dunno where he is. He ain't never been around. But momma does okay.” Seemingly to change the subject, he quickly looked back at her, “I wanna show you som'm. You afraid of heights?”
She shook her head, “No,” but it was a lie.
“Come with me,” he extended his hand.
“Is this something scary?” she hesitated.
“No, girl,” he said, and pulled her hand after him.
He took her down the waterslides a couple times. Although there were crew members standing there who only allowed one person to go at a time, just as Li took off, Donte let loose a whoop and swung in to straddle her from behind. When they landed at the bottom, he took her hand and helped her up.
The two of them dried off at the chaise where Li's mother Bao was sleeping. Then they sat down to talk. For Li, the time seemed to stand still, but when Donte announced he had to leave for his assigned dinner time with his mother, several hours had passed. He said he would see her later, “at the club.”
“What's so important about what you wear to the youth program?” Li's father, Doctor Ming-Zhen asked. She had tried three outfits, and was now standing in front of the mirror in the stateroom testing jewelry.
Li's mother, Bao, said with a grin, “I think she has finally been impressed.”
Doctor Ming-Zhen groaned, sinking into a chair, “I had forgotten. They're everywhere.”
“Whats are everywhere?”
“These prowling young males. It's like a plague.”
Li jumped over and leaned down to kiss her father's cheek, “Don't worry.”
“Is it true? Has a boy finally impressed you?”
“Well… I’m not impressed…”
“You’ve never cared about all the attention you received from boys before! Why now? What is going on with you, Li?”
“This one is different.”
Incredulously, he asked, “How? Who is he?”
“He's an American. His name is Donte.”
Doctor Ming-Zhen rubbed his temple, “American?”
“Yes, it's a great chance for me to practice English, Daddy.”
“American boys are very dangerous. They don't want to marry,” Bao admonished.
“He is religious,” she said, hoping this would encourage her parents.
Doctor Ming-Zhen said, “You are curious, then. That is all.”
“Well… He is… I don’t know, I like him.”
“You like him?” Doctor Ming-Zhen exclaimed.
She pleaded, “May I please go to the youth program now?”
Her father sighed, “You must be as careful as you are pretty,” he warned. “I trust you to be wise.”
She smiled radiantly, “Thank you!”
True to his word, Donte was at the youth club. A DJ was there and they danced together. Then he led her outside to the promenade deck, the lowest outdoor deck.
They were alone. The moon reflected off the swiftly passing water and, out in the ocean far from light pollution, the sky was so full of stars that Li could hardly believe she was on the same planet as Beijing. A warm breeze caressed them as they slowly ambled along the teak walkway that circumvented the vessel. Li closed her eyes. She inhaled the sea air deeply, listened to the gentle lapping of the water on the ship.
Donte's fingers touched hers, grasped her hand. She felt a dozen sparklers set on fire within her.
“I wish I had my piano here,” she said. “It would be a beautiful place to play.”
“You play?”
She nodded, “I love to play the piano. I do not play well, but my father listens to me for hours and hours at home.”
Donte led her to the rail and they leaned over it, looking out over the endless glistening ocean. An older couple was casually strolling behind them.
Li asked, “Do you think we might see a whale or dolphin?”
“I don't know. Maybe if we watched long enough. We could try.”
“I don’t think I have that much patience.”
Suddenly, a woman behind them cried out and doubled over in pain. The man helped her walk to the rail where she spewed vomit. After she recovered, he helped her back through the sliding doors to the interior.
“Wow, she was seasick. I didn't know you could get that seasick that fast,” Donte said.
Li said, “I did not know, either,” but she thought the woman had not appeared sea sick: she was in pain.
She returned to her cabin on time as expected, though she tried to convince Donte to stay out later with her. In bed as she closed her eyes, all she could think about was him and his amazing smile.
He was sailing the Pacific in a ship equipped with every conceivable amenity, but Doctor Ming-Zhen was in agony.
His wife thought a twelve day cruise out of Baltimore after her husband presented at the World Science Conference in Washington would be a welcomed escape, and, certainly, his wife and daughter were having a blast. Teenage Li was having too much of a blast, in fact, having struck up what he considered to be a dangerous romance with some boy on the ship. She had spent almost every minute since they arrived with him.
But for Doctor Ming-Zhen himself, the trip had been hell. He was replaying the meeting with Zhang in his mind. He worried that when the cruise docked, he would be forced to return to Lake Vostok.
He decided to check his emails at one of the ship's internet cafes in an ef
fort to distract himself. So now, as his wife and teenage daughter were enjoying an ice skating show, he was sitting down at a computer, loading his inbox.
The emails clicked through, taking seconds for each. The connection on this ship was incredibly slow.
One of the messages was from a team digging at an archeological site in Iraq in partnership with Tel Aviv University. Sometimes, terrific fossil finds were lost when archeologists discarded them, seeking anthropological treasures instead.
The team had unearthed an “irregular” fossil. He leaned in to read the summary.
It described typically mammalian features: three tiny bones (known as the incus, malleus, and the stapes) in the ear cavities fully incorporated into the skull, temporal orbits (where the mandible muscle attached), a large brain cavity, and a separate jaw. The fossil was measured at eleven feet long. Nothing extraordinary there.
It was the photographs that sent his mind reeling.
Clearly distinguishable was a four-legged skeleton with a tail longer than the entire body that arched up high over the backbone. The rear legs were larger than the front with the hip's ball-and-socket joint looking looser than Doctor Ming-Zhen would expect to see on a quadruped. In fact, the length of the pelvis indicated to him that the creature could have stood on two legs if it wanted to, particularly given the length of the tail for balance.
All four feet had sizable claws. The skull had a somewhat protruding snout but large, high-set eye sockets and a cranial capacity reminiscent of a primate. The jaw was filled with sharp-looking teeth and two gigantic canines, not unlike a baboon. Perhaps more like a lion.
Most striking, however, were the two sets of three spread-out bones protruding from above the shoulder blades. Doctor Ming-Zhen noticed that the description was glaringly absent a mention of this bizarre feature. Perhaps it was because there was only one possible explanation: this mammal had wings. The team didn't want to say it before he did.
Interrupting Doctor Ming-Zhen's reading was a gasping, choking sound from the opposite side of the computer station where he sat. He stood and looked over.
A teenage girl was laying on her side on the carpeted floor, the light of from the bright sky outside the windows illuminating her pale skin. She was shaking from head to toe. Her eyes were wide open as if in death, and yellow. Her mouth was ajar, but she was sputtering and saliva dripped from her lips. Her veins were huge and protruding, but her entire face was blue from lack of oxygen.
Doctor Ming-Zhen rushed down to her aid, shouting behind him, “Someone help! Bring a doctor!” Some people milling around on the edge of the atrium began to run for help while others came to his side.
The girl's shuddering was moving her body against the wood of the desk, so to prevent her from hitting her head on it, he pulled her away. Her entire body was tense with energy. At first he thought she might be choking, but when it was apparent she couldn't see him even though her eyes were open, and when she made no indication that she was cognitive, he realized it must be a seizure.
Doctor Ming-Zhen held onto her, using all his strength just to prevent her from writhing violently and harming herself. Finally, the seizure seemed to have worked itself out, and her muscles eased, except that her lungs expanded and contracted with inhalation. He was relieved to feel her breaths on his hand when he held it in front of her mouth. Her face flushed purple, then red with oxygen and Doctor Ming-Zhen was hopeful the seizure was over. But she was still staring ahead blankly, and seemed to be weakening.
Gurgling, gasping sounds came from her throat, and he felt her skin growing very hot. Boiling hot. The expansions of her chest grew more and more faint until her head dropped, limp.
He felt for a pulse, but there was none, so he lay her on her back and raised her chin. He administered a short breath and pushed with both hands on her sternum in quick compressions.
No result.
He breathed into her mouth once more and pressed his full weight on her sternum with powerful compressions, feeling and hearing a crack in her ribcage. But still, nothing.
The doctor never came. She was laying there with her yellowed eyes in a death stare, the crowd around her was in silent shock, and Doctor Ming-Zhen was on his knees over her body with his hands on his temples.
But the silence did not last. Echoing from across the atrium was a scream.
Biocertica
When the door on the dock shut behind the two men and the woman, Gary slipped out of his SUV and scrambled down a gulley. Up the other side, he crouched low as he sneaked across the loading area to the Mercedes van. Opening the driver's door, he slipped inside and shut it as quietly as he could. He was looking for anything: a clue, any piece of data that could give him more information about Biocertica and the pickups these men were doing. The cargo area was empty except for some rope, cloth bags and fast food trash. But he did notice a GPS affixed to the dash near the steering wheel. He switched it on and saw a home screen:
HOME
PREVIOUS
FAVORITES
ASSISTANT POI's
ADDRESS
PHONE
POI NAME
VICINITY
He chose “Previous” and scrolled through a long list of addresses:
11276 Olive Drive...
1193 West Elm Street...
2764 Richmond Ave...
2617 Pembroke Street...
1429 Lakeview Drive...
410 Lloyd Ave...
8737 Manning Drive...
1931 George Street...
240 Westchester Airport County Rd...
2179 Elmgrove Ave...
4798 Lincoln Drive...
10399 Picsataway Rd...
5186 West Tenth Street...
610 Peterson Lane...
29272 Bowen Street...
2718 Angeli Street...
Schoephoester Rd...
14993 Staple Street...
1961 Cold Stone Terrace...
328 Preston Street...
2971 Pitman Street...
Pinkberry - Baltimore BWI Airport, Terminal Rd...
456 East Avenue...
410 Maple Street...
24 Woodbury Lane...
1203 Planeview Terrace...
2654 President Avenue...
4567 Blackstone Street...
1531 N Tuckahoe Rd...
7846 Waterman Street...
1812 South Century Road...
1 Highway Lane...
3210 Oak Lane...
13 East McDowell...
12 East Beverly...
1 Harborside Doctor..
12 South Bend...
24 Oakland Street...
10600 Harry Parrish Blvd...
454 S. Jurido Road...
1234 West Court Street...
2319 South Country Road...
1100 Terminal Cir Dr, Ewing Township...
1005 West Northern Parkway...
On about the fifth page, his finger froze over the “down button as his eyes darted to a single line:
24 Oakland Street
He felt a race of adrenaline as he sat back in the seat. Flashing in his mind was a night scene of this van parked front of their house. Inside a black box, little Jeffery was struggling to free himself. While I was in the house, unaware, in sin.
He tightened his grip on the pistol.
Stepping into the cargo area behind one of the seats, he crouched to wait.
He realized his mistake too late. When the uneven footsteps outside the van stopped at the back, he knew that the men still had the black box, and having delivered its contents, would now return it to the van.
The cargo doors opened and Gary spun around to face them. The long black box came in, but the men didn't even bother to look inside as they shoved it through. Then the cargo doors slammed shut and Gary breathed a sigh of relief.
Readopting his concealed position behind the driver's seat, he waited. He heard the men exchange a goodbye. Then one stepped up to the driver's side door.
/> When the door opened and the man climbed in to take a seat, Gary drew a tight breath. The driver started the engine as Gary's heart started beating out of control. He was ready to do this. The van began to move. He was going to stand up and push the barrel to the guy's head.
To his surprise, he realized that the driver was swinging the van around towards the side of the building. They were approaching a corrugated metal door which groaned as it began to slowly open upwards. The van pulled inside a garage with barely enough room to contain it and creaked to a stop. The garage had no door into the building.
He arose and pressed the barrel to the man's temple, hard. “Do you remember the boy at 24 Oakland Street?” he growled.
The man was tense as he said, “No.”
“He was two years old!” Gary was sweating with rage.
“There are a lot of little ones,” the man said flatly. “Listen, who are you?”
“I'm his father.”
The man sounded scared, “I'll help you out; just let me live! I'm only the water boy around here. I don't do this because I like it. I do it because I have to. Now just tell me, what town?”
“Manasses.”
“I remember. Nice big, brick house on a couple acres?”
“Yes.”
“We took him to the airport.”
“The airport?”
“Yeah. A lot of them go overseas.”
“Where?”
“I don't know where. They just tell me to take them to an airport so I take them to an airport.”
“Alive?”
“Always.”
“So who could tell me where my son was sent?”
“I don't know—” as he said the last word he swung around to fire a handgun Gary didn’t know he had.
Gary realized what was happening quickly enough that he was able to swing his head out of the way. Gary dropped his own weapon as he grappled the man's arm. The man struggled to aim at Gary's face, but the angle he had from the chair put him at a disadvantage, and before long Gary had forced his arm down so the man was looking down the barrel of his own pistol.