by B. C. CHASE
As Doctor Ming-Zhen approached the balcony railing of the atrium, he heard thunderous rushing water. He leaned over to look down the nine stories to the marble floor below. Water was surging over it like a river, people struggling to keep their footing. One of a father’s two children slipped and was washed away from the man’s outstretched hand. The screams echoed up the vast glass walls.
If water was on the atrium floor, he knew it was higher than the ice skating rink where Bao and Li had been, and certainly higher than the ship’s medical center. Assuming the disease had not claimed them, they had either drowned in the floors below or were somewhere higher up.
Suddenly the lights extinguished. There was darkness for only a moment and through the windows that edged the atrium he glimpsed a moonlit view to the outside, where, because of the list, the ocean was ascending away from the ship and giving way to a mysteriously beautiful, mountainous tropical island. Thunder clouds were wreathing the mountains, flashes of lightning illuminating the trees and rocky cliffs. At the edge of the foothills was a gigantic feminine statue with arms outstretched. A helicopter with U.S. insignia was visible landing in front of it. Then most of the interior lights flicked back on and the view was obscured.
Doctor Ming-Zhen ran for a circular staircase that edged glass elevators and started down as quickly as he could without falling. Suddenly there was a terrific shatter and he looked down to see a wall of water blow in though the base of the giant exterior glass windows, immediately washing away the furniture and people.
Van
Karen Harigold was silent as she lay on the gurney, the van seeming to follow the rest of the slow D.C. traffic. She looked closely at the faces of her captors. They had strong cheekbones and emotionless dark eyes. They simply stood on the sides of the gurney, staring into space as the van traveled.
Karen said, “Where are you taking me?”
They did not speak.
“Who sent you?”
Again, no response.
They had oddly colorless skin and extremely large bulk was hidden beneath the police uniforms. Their features were abnormally sharp, with sculpted chins, creaseless skin. As she watched them, she realized that they blinked at regular intervals; every five seconds exactly. And she suddenly was overcome by a sense that they were cold, that something was missing. Like the difference one feels between looking into the eyes of a dog and looking into the eyes of a reptile.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
One of them suddenly cast his unsympathetic gaze down upon her, turning his head slowly and deliberately. He spoke with a deep and guttural voice, “Karen, you are coming to me.”
“Who are you?” she said in a whisper.
“Your friend, Phillip.”
Facility AII-B
Kelle hit a branch as she fell, flipping over to land on her back parallel to the edge. She muttered, “Ow” where she lay. Then she quickly rolled over and onto her hands and knees to grab his wrist. The water was turning into a veritable waterfall and she pulled with all her might, standing to let her weight do the work. He pulled himself up with his free hand and clambered up to land on top of her. He rolled off with a quick, “Thanks.”
“Don't mention it,” she said as he helped her to her feet. They could hear voices at the top of the cliff so they rushed into the pitch black ahead of them.
It was a tunnel ten feet tall and five feet wide. As their eyes adjusted, they could see piping running along the wall.
Ahead, they heard the echo of splashing and, approaching the sound, saw water gushing in from a large pipe near the floor. They ran past the pipe and saw more water rushing in through a series of grates in the ceiling that let in light. Past these was the end of the tunnel capped by a solid steel door on top of a step.
They rushed through the falling water to the door. Wesley tried the handle, but it was locked. Kelle shot it once with her handgun.
“Watch out, you'll kill us!” Wesley said.
“I'm just trying to get it open!”
“You're just gun crazy,” he replied, smiling. He gripped the handle again, but it was still locked solid.
The water was cascading over their bodies as they stood there. Kelle looked up into Wesley's eyes, “What do we do?” Glistening droplets streamed down her face and ornamented her long eyelashes.
Wesley looked at the door again. There was not even a keyhole on it, there was no pin pad on the wall, nothing with which to possibly get it open. Then, he saw in the blackness that the wall had a two foot tall opening about three feet off the floor. “Let's go this way,” he smiled, leading her. Wesley clambered through head first.
In the dark, he and Kelle clawed their way up an incline for what seemed like miles before they finally saw a light at the top. When they reached it, they saw that the tunnel connected to a warehouse-sized garage. Hiding behind a wall edging the entrance, they peered in from the tunnel.
Parked there were several semi-trucks with livestock trailers, some heavy construction equipment, a couple of vans, and some expensive luxury cars. Other than that, it was empty.
There was an elevator in the middle, but they cautiously opted for a door with a stairway symbol above it at the far wall. The metal staircase inside was dimly illuminated and they took the stairs as quietly as they could. It was several flights up to the next door, where a small wired glass window allowed them to peep out. They could see a large, dark room with rows of tables. On top of the tables were translucent containers filled with water that glowed with blue light. There was no one in the room, so Wesley pushed open the door slightly. He heard no voices, so he stepped out, followed by Kelle.
As he walked up to the first table, he realized that there was something underneath it. Leaning down, he saw that it was a female torso with no appendages attached. It had a neck and head, the face only containing a nose. A biological tube protruded from the skin of the stomach and trailed up to the open, glass tank on top of the table. Wesley stepped forward to look inside.
Beside him, Kelle gasped. With her hand over her mouth, she said in a low voice, “Merciful Lord Almighty.”
Bathed in the soft blue light, suspended in the cloudy water with the tube connected to its stomach was a human fetus. The skin was unbelievably smooth, the thick eyelids shut, little arms raised up to the large head.
Suddenly, one of the arms twitched, sending wavelets across the surface of the water. Wesley stared in a kind of incredulous awe, realizing that he could reach into the water and touch the developing child if he so wished.
“Unbelievable,” Kelle whispered in a breath.
On the edge of the tank was a placard with a number. Wesley asked, “May I have Jarred's note—with the address, please?”
Kelle nodded knowingly. She eagerly dug into her pocket and handed it to him. He glanced at it, at the number.
CONVERGENT GENETIC SCIENCE, INC.
FACILITY AII-B
19139:13-18
P.P.
He looked up, started walking through the rows of tables, searching the numbers on all the containers. Each of them held another fetus, each one in a different stage of development.
After a frantic hunt, he spotted the one he was searching for. The number on the placard matched Jarred's paper:
19139:13-18
Underneath the number was the text:
FIBRODYSPLASIA OSSIFICANS PROGRESSIVA
Wesley's heart was beating uncontrollably in his chest. He leaned over the tank and peered into it. A nearly fully developed fetus was there, sleeping in the water.
“Wesley?” Kelle asked softly from behind him. “Is it?”
He placed his hands on the edge of the tank to support himself. He could scarcely speak, “Yes.” a tear dripped from his eye into the water, concentric circles rippling out from around it. “This is my son.” He said it as if he could not believe it himself.
The baby shifted in the water and raised its tiny thumb to its mouth. It was peaceful and unaware.
Wesley was overcome by feelings he did not comprehend. This was his unborn child. He was seeing his baby just as it had been inside Sienna.
Kelle dabbed her eyes. She placed a hand on Wesley's arm, “He’s beautiful, Wesley.”
Wesley couldn’t close his eyes; he couldn’t stop gazing at this unbelievable beauty. His body shook with inaudible, tearless weeping, and he finally managed to say, “He’s perfect.” Then Wesley motioned to the placard. “This is the Latin name for the disease he has: stone-man syndrome. His life was going to be a living hell. But we didn't abort him.”
Staring at the baby, Kelle said matter-of-factly, “You did the right thing.”
“That's what Jarred said, too,” Wesley said, reaching for her hand. They exchanged a sad glance of appreciation.
Suddenly, a dark voice came from behind them, “I’m glad you were able to see it, Wesley. Egoistically glad, but glad nonetheless.”
Paradeisia
Nimitz was dumfounded that Bridges asked him to be on the team, but he was also honored. So he agreed to go, having no idea that he'd be handed an M16 with an M203 grenade launcher and that an assault pack would be slipped over his shoulders with ten thirty-round magazines, a bunch of grenades and some medical supplies.
Bridges held a brief armaments class in a clearing of the rainforest near a staff building. The experience of shooting the M16 for the first time was exhilarating for him. As they lined up for a brief fire practice, he was surprised to see that an attractive blonde was joining the team, but he didn't have any objections. She obviously also had no experience shooting an M16, and even lost control of it when she was firing fully automatic.
The team went into the building and took seats in a training room. The island's chief scientist, a Swiss native who had spent most of his career at a gigantic German engineering corporation, joined the team. Tall and thin with an amiable face, he had short cropped blonde hair and frameless glasses. He had been chewing gum loudly all through the armory exercise and hadn't stopped when they entered the building. He had been down the portal more than anyone on the team, including the first trip in which Andrews had disappeared. Bridges invited him to enlighten the group on the conditions.
Rising, he said, “For those who do not know my name, I am Doctor Kaufmann, Paradeisia's Chief Scientist. It is nice to meet all of you. Now, the atmosphere down there includes a lot of sulfur hexafluoride pockets—we think from all the volcanic activity and the hydrothermal vents in the lakes. You'll notice your voice sounding strange if you hit a hexaflouride pocket, but it's not dangerous. Sulfur hexaflouride is one of the heaviest gasses known to man, so it makes you sound strange. There is also plenty of oxygen, thirty percent, and high quantities of carbon dioxide, among other gases. The atmospheric pressure is very high compared to up here.
“Now, as soon as the gondolas drop off the track, a bladder is inflated with hydrogen and they are easily buoyant. Air is propelled through valves on the sides and this gives them motion. They can't go fast, but they can go.”
Bridges turned to the team and said, “So what he's saying is, once we go down, we're down. If we're fired on, hopping back in that gondola would be like hopping onto a hot air balloon. We'd be floating ducks. So let's be clear here: don't think I gave you all this gear is so you can start a fight. We are trying to avoid action if at all possible. Our mission is going to be recon first. We're going to find out if Andrews is down there, and if he is we're going to find out who it is that took him.” Bridges paused, “Only after those facts are established would we proceed with a rescue. Now, please continue, Doctor Kaufmann.”
“So another gas down there is xenon. It's what causes all the electrical activity and lights the place up, we think. Usually it stays on the ceiling and the walls so you shouldn't have to worry about getting a shock.
“Now, by way of fauna we have encountered a number of creatures that live down there. Many varieties of fish live in the waters, even whales. There is a large variety of insecta. But beyond that, we have not encountered anything. You might notice that the insects are large. Just as the flora is ginormous by the standards up here, so too are the insects. We believe this is because of the high oxygen content. Now, as many of you know, the portal was only recently completed and the only way down previously was via a tunnel that was dug from the portal to the nearest wall-about three miles. Then it was a treacherous descent down this wall, ja? Not fun—very challenging with all the winds and so forth. So we simply have not seen very much of what the place has to offer. We don't think that there is any other life besides the insects and the fishes. I mean we are pretty certain about that. Cannot say for sure, but very certain.
“The topography is mountainous in some places but also there are the flat valleys. And all over are the boiling lakes where the sulfur hydroxide—” he paused and laughed heartily, “no sulfur hexaflouride, got to get that right, the hydroxide would kill you—the boiling lakes where the sulfur hexaflouride comes to the surface. So, any questions?”
No one raised a hand.
Bridges said, “Now, if we do face action, our chance of getting back up here any time soon is very small. Besides taking a gondola back up, as Doctor Kaufmann said the only other way up is by climbing the wall and crawling the three-mile tunnel. Under fire, it would be virtually impossible to climb the wall. And, believe me, none of you wants to spend three miles in claustrophobic, stale darkness clinging to the walls like a rat. That's why we're going down with four gondolas. Two are going to carry all the munitions and gear I've been able to pull together. One is going to wait at the portal exit to relay our communications. The other is what we're riding down. Gonzales?”
Gonzales, who had been sitting in a chair in the front of the room watching patiently, now rose and said, “Now I'm providing each of you pictures of the eleven other unaccounted for disappearances that have taken place since we came to the island. Chances are they're not down there: these are probably just people who decided to call it quits and sneaked onto ferries going to the islands. But, just in case, I want you to be on the lookout for them.”
Gonzales continued, “Now, we don't know what is down there, really. I mean we know there are huge plants and we've seen the whales and the fish and everything. But if Andrews really was taken, we don't know who took him. So be prepared for anything. I'm sure you guys have heard the rumors. People have said they've seen things. We get reports all the time. So don't be surprised no matter what you encounter.”
Bridges nodded to Gonzales and seemed to try to cut him short, “Yes, thank you. Now, our timetable is as follows: We are heading down in the next hour. We will set up camp in a place I have chosen based on information the expeditionary teams have already provided. Then we will begin recon. We have twenty-four hours exactly to complete our mission. If possible, we will return at the end of that time.” Bridges paused.
Nimitz raised his hand.
“Nimitz?”
“What if we can't return after twenty-four hours?”
“If that's the case, we will communicate the reason for our delay up to the surface via the relay gondola. It will be up to Gonzales and the other executives to decide what course of action to take. Are there any other questions?”
Nimitz raised his hand again.
“Yes?”
“So, what if they did take Andrews. What if we find him and we rescue him from them. They took him for a reason, right? So they're gonna be pretty pissed. It's not as if they won't notice we took him. Since we'd be sitting ducks in the gondola, like you said, that basically means we'll be stuck down there with him. I mean isn't this kinda like, well, a suicide mission?”
Bridges folded his arms, “Where I come from we never leave a man behind. If that's something you can't stomach, the door's over there.”
Nimitz sheepishly replied, “With you all the way, man.”
Nimitz didn't have anyone to say goodbye to, so he strode into the gondola and took a seat. He lowered the harness snugly and then turned t
o Bridges who had taken the spot beside him, “So what do you think is down there? I mean, what are they?”
Bridges looked at him with a puzzled expression, “What do you mean?”
“In the tape of Andrews' observation room the thing had six fingers. That hand didn't look like anything I've ever seen.”
Bridges shook his head, “You and your conspiracy theories.”
Nimitz said, “You have to admit there were six fingers.”
“I'll admit it looked that way, yeah.”
“So that doesn't bother you at all? What about the Aztec gods? Remember, I told you—“
“I remember,” Bridges slammed down his harness and said slowly and firmly, “And no, it doesn't bother me.” His face was dead serious. “What bothers me is that this mission isn't accomplished yet.”
Bolivar, Venezuela
Bertrand suddenly appeared at the edge of the village, very late. His clothes were thoroughly soaked with sweat and his skin glistening in the moonlight. Layla spotted him from where she sat at the fire circle with the indigenous. Doctor Katz was taking another trip to the spirit world, hopping beside the glow of the fire with more green mucus running freely from his nose. Doctor Kamil was apparently making some progress in learning some words and was interacting with one of the elderly women.
Layla waved to Bertrand, who strode into the clearing and took a seat next to Layla. After he caught his breath, he motioned to Doctor Katz and said, “Already dependent on the ebene, I see.”
Layla said, “I tried to stop him, but he said he was going to try to summon the Egyptian god, Aten. We have to get him out of here.”
“I agree. None of us should be here. We should never have come.”