by B. C. CHASE
“BAO!” came a voice from above them.
“Zhou!” Bao called. From where he was perched on the staircase, he tossed down two life jackets. Donte and Bao quickly snapped them on, then climbed onto the horizontal staircase as the water splashed up over it. Zhou hugged his wife as best he could clinging to the baluster. Teary-eyed, Bao cried, “Our Li! She’s….”
Doctor Ming-Zhen’s relief that Bao was living was strangulated by the now absolute knowledge that Li was not. Like a brew of sweet herbal tea laced with deadly bitter arsenic.
As the cool water reached him, he wished he could have seen her before she died, yet when he knew there was danger. He wished he could have said goodbye. Not like this.
Donte stared at them sadly from where he clung to the rail.
The life jackets kept them afloat as they released the sinking staircase. A myriad of bubbles rushed up to the surface, and slowly the last jagged plates of steel slipped underneath. There was some undertow from the ship, but not enough to drag them under.
Doctor Ming-Zhen pointed to the island in the distance. “To the shore!” They immediately began stroking toward it, an awkward task with the big orange life vests. Hundreds of other people were on the surface, a vast din of fear and panic.
They had not swam far when there was a splash at a nearby swimmer.
“Hurry! Swim!” Doctor Ming-Zhen shouted, pulling his wife.
“I’m tired!” she protested.
“Hurry!” he encouraged firmly. Ahead, he spotted what he most feared.
Donte had seen it, too. His eyes widened and he started stroking with incredible vigor, pulling Bao with all his might.
“You’re hurting me!” Bao protested to Doctor Ming-Zhen.
A gray fin briefly surfaced nearby. After a moment, it appeared again, circling them with disturbingly rapid speed. The terrifyingly large form of a shark could be seen under the fin as it surfaced again. Bao screamed.
The shark swam in closely, bumping Doctor Ming-Zhen. “Zhou!” Bao cried with terror.
The shark quickly turned away and disappeared. They swam as quickly as they could, Doctor Ming-Zhen hoping that the shark had found them uninteresting and moved on.
But suddenly Bao was pulled under. Doctor Ming-Zhen immediately lost his grip, but Donte held on and was dragged along the surface and then under. There was a moment of horror as Doctor Ming-Zhen stared at the empty surface. Then Donte bobbed up. “I couldn’t hold on!” he screamed. “I couldn’t hold her!”
Suddenly there was a splash and Bao appeared a couple yards away. Her scream was long and gut-wrenching, “ZHOU!!!” She raised her arm, exposing a clean cut above the elbow, before being yanked under again.
Doctor Ming-Zhen was frozen in place, feeling nothing. A light shined down on him. He was vaguely aware of a helicopter swooping down, hovering directly above him. Two divers jumped into the water beside him. A harness lowered, and they started to secure him to it, but he fought them. “Save him!” he shouted in Mandarin, pointing to Donte. The divers struggled with Doctor Ming-Zhen for a moment more before realizing it was hopeless. They turned to Donte and assisted him into the harness, which was quickly drawn up to the chopper. After Donte was safely inside, the harness came back down.
Bao’s body reappeared at that instant, some distance away. The shark’s nose closed upon it and Doctor Ming-Zhen turned his face away, diverted his attention to the divers and the harness. The wind from the blades whipped his soggy clothes as he was raised up to the helicopter. A tear rimmed his eye as he stared out at the island. Once inside the chopper, he was greeted by a People’s Liberation Army official. “Doctor Zhou Ming-Zhen?”
He blinked a reply.
“You are fortunate to have survived, sir. And even more fortunate that you had a radio tracking transmitter.”
“I have no transmitter.”
“Oh yes, you do, sir. Right here,” he pointed to the top of Doctor Ming-Zhen’s hand. “Under your skin. I apologize. They didn’t tell me you did not know.”
“Who didn’t tell you?”
“Xiàozhăng Yue Zhang, of the Academy of Sciences. He sent us to retrieve you, sir.”
Quietly, Doctor Ming-Zhen said, “He was too late.”
“Sir?”
He yelled, “He was too late!”
Paradeisia Under the Earth
“Did Andrews have an injured leg?” Adriaan looked up from the ground he was tracking.
Doctor Pearce quickly replied, “Yes, he had a pulled ligament in his fifth toe. It would have been very painful.”
“I can see it must have been. He had a very distinct limp.”
Aubrey couldn't make anything out on the ground; not so much as one footprint. But, apparently thanks to his many years of practice, Adriaan was following the tracks without difficulty. He did gripe about there not being a “sole source of light” but she wasn't sure what that meant.
They continued on at a brisk pace out of the valley and into the forest where the gigantic trees made her feel like a little bug. Although most of the foliage was giant-sized, some was not, and the moss on the trees was like any other moss.
Suddenly Adriaan stopped dead again. He lowered himself on his knees. Then he spun around to look at Doctor Kaufmann, “You said there are only fish and insects down here?”
“Yes, we've never seen a sign of anything else.”
“Have you had anyone who knows anything about animals down here?”
“Several PhD's, yes.”
“Ah. Well they didn't know a thing about wildlife if they didn't see this,” he pointed down to the ground. “Look at those diamonds.”
Again, Aubrey couldn't make out anything extraordinary; all she saw was dirt and leaves in varying states of decay. Certainly not any gemstones.
Adriaan exclaimed, “It's almost as wide as a car.”
“What is?” Bridges demanded.
“This track. And look, the brush has been flattened on both sides of this clearing,” Adriaan rushed over to an area where the foliage had suffered a crushing force. “Blimey,” he took a deep breath and rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Bridges, you've got a problem.”
“What is that?”
“It would take more than M16's to bring down a serpent this size.”
Doctor Kaufmann exclaimed, “You're saying a snake as wide as a car passed through here?”
Adriaan affirmed, “Believe it or not. Look at the diamond-shaped pattern. This is snake spoor if ever I saw it.”
“What's 'spoor?'” Aubrey asked.
“Anything left behind by animals that we can track. Scat, trails, trees used as scratching posts, kills. Anything.”
Bridges said, “Was the snake pursuing Andrews?”
“No. Crossed his tracks straight. Besides, snakes don't 'hunt' in that way. They haven't the energy for hot pursuit. They sit in one spot nice and cozy-like. Then SNAP! He opened his eyes wide and appeared to relish the thought as he intoned, “It's all over.”
Bridges nodded, “Well I guess it’s fortunate that we have grenade launchers attached to our M16's.”
Adriaan flashed him a glare, “When you wound a cape buffalo, it will charge 100% of the time. That's a money-back guarantee, mate. Now when that happens you have two options; either you fill the beast with shot and drop it dead in its tracks, or it gores you and you're trampled to death. Now I've never hunted serpents, but I'd wager that one as thick as a Jeep might have at least an iota the aggression of a one-ton bull. And it takes a heckuva lot to kill a snake. Even a small one.” Raising his voice so everyone could hear, he said, “So let's not go picking fights, shall we? If we see a snake, we back off nice and easy and hope it didn't see us or care if it did. But whatever you do, don't shoot it and make it angry.”
As they resumed their path through the jungle, Adriaan appeared to be watching about ten feet beyond where he was stepping. Aubrey jumped up beside him and asked, “How can you follow the tracks when you're looking so far ahead?”
/> He explained, “I don't know if you've seen those guys in movies they say are trackers? They look right down at their feet like they're walking a tightrope.” He shook his head, “Naah. If you did it that way you wouldn't get ten steps before you lost the trail or tripped with your head up your arse. Besides, it isn't only footprints I'm following. I'm looking for dead leaves, hair, anything that provides a clue. If I stared down at my feet, I'd miss all of those. At the moment, as it happens, I'm following my nose.”
“Your nose?'
“Yah. I don't know if you've ever smelled human urine in the wild, but it's deadly rank, love. And from what I’m smelling, either Andrews stopped to take a breather, or he had the piss scared out of him.”
As they continued their brisk pace, Doctor Kaufmann asked, “What would a snake that size be eating? Surely not the fish.”
Adriaan said, “You're right about that, mate. If there's a constricting carnivore that large down here, the prey must be gigantic.”
Nimitz jogged up to Adriaan. “Do you know of an animal that has six fingers?”
Bridges huffed, “Oh give it a break, Nimitz.”
Adriaan said, “Six digits? On each hand?”
“Yeah, twelve altogether.”
“No, mate. Doesn't exist. It's a universal rule among vertebrates: five digits max. Just like symmetry.”
Nimitz said, “I think whatever took Andrews had six fingers. At least it looked like it in the surveillance video.”
“What video?” Doctor Kaufmann inquired.
“The video of the observation room. A hand reached up and disabled the camera.”
“And for all we know it was Andrews' hand,” Bridges said.
Nimitz said emphatically, “Andrews didn't have six fingers.”
“We've been over this. The video was blurry.”
Doctor Kaufmann said, “I don't think Andrews is down here at all. I only came for the chance to go further than we ever have before.”
Suddenly Bridges stopped and turned to face Doctor Kaufmann, who almost ran into him, “And why is it that you haven't gone very far before?”
“There was so much to see from the air by flying around in the gondola's. We didn't spend much time on the ground, and when we did, it was only in the immediate landing site where we took as many samples as possible.”
“So you're telling me that even though Andrews disappeared on the first time down and we supposedly launched a massive search for him, nobody has actually stepped foot outside the immediate landing site?”
Doctor Kaufmann's expression darkened and he stopped chewing his gum. Staring Bridges straight in the eye, he said, “Yes, that's what I'm saying.”
“Right,” Bridges said, skepticism riding on his voice. Then he said sarcastically, “A real thorough investigation, was it?”
They slogged deeper and deeper into the jungle and the foliage became more and more dense, to the point that light was scarce and the trail became harder for Adriaan to follow. This meant there were a lot of pauses as he studied the ground or the foliage for signs.
The spoor wasn't the only thing that was becoming scarce: radio communications with the relay gondola were intermittent and decreasing. When Doctor Kaufmann suggested they turn back, Bridges said, “No, not without Andrews.”
Aubrey found herself standing near Doctor Pearce on one of the pauses while Adriaan searched for the trail. There was enough of a clearing between two of the giant tree trunks that they could see some of the horizon: the forest sloped upward around thousand-foot tall vertical cliffs rimming a giant plateau. It was an awe inspiring view, especially with a waterfall cascading down one spot on the cliff and rapids visible between trees as they rushed down the slope.
After enjoying the scene, Doctor Pearce set to work, closely examining a piece of a gigantic fruit he had cut open. Aubrey noticed that he hadn't said anything since their trek began. His face expressed a kind of prescience, and she intuitively felt that he was well-meaning and trustworthy. Aubrey wondered why he had cut the fruit open but wasn't eating any of it. She asked him, “Are you going to share that?”
He laughed, “I am just looking at it for signs. I wouldn't dare eat it. It could be dangerous.”
“Looking at it for signs of what?”
“Genetic engineering.”
She folded her arms and gave him a dramatically raised eyebrow.
He smiled, “Yes. See, Andrews had a number imprinted on his arm with a protein marker typical of bioengineering. I believe he received it while he was down here. If we see other signs of bioengineering, then I would think that this place may be home to some, shall we say, 'renegade' scientists.”
He further explained, “Before I became a physician, I was involved in research into gene replacement therapy. Of course now it's everywhere.” He shook his head, “And to think, all the mania around gene therapy was started by an insect.”
“An insect?”
“Yes. In the early days of gene replacement therapy, the constant challenge was finding a way for the patient to accept the new genes. Especially without multiple or even constant treatments.
“Viruses alter the genes of their hosts, so it was assumed that they would be the best vectors, or delivery agents. But there are problems with that.
“For one, viruses cause illness, so you have to disable the part of the virus that makes people sick before you can use it. Another problem is that our bodies are designed to fight viruses whether or not the bad part has been disabled. So if your body attacks this virus that is supposed to be delivering the cure for your disease, you won't receive the cure.
“Perhaps the greatest danger is that the viruses can disrupt genes other than the ones they were intended for. So say I give you gene therapy to treat a disease of your immune system. Your immune system is cured, but later you suddenly develop leukemia because the virus changed another part of your DNA.
“So all these factors combined to make gene therapy prohibitive, and, even if all the parts came together perfectly, it was prohibitively expensive.”
“But what did an insect have to do with that?”
“Well, certain wasps inject their eggs into caterpillars. Suddenly, the entire physiology of the caterpillar is changed. The immune response of the caterpillar that normally would have targeted the parasitic wasp egg is switched off. The caterpillar's growth is regulated to match the needs of the wasp larvae inside its body. In some cases, even the behavior of the caterpillar changes. Ultimately, instead of growing into a beautiful butterfly, these caterpillars become the perfect incubators for the baby wasps. And in most cases, the wasp babies eat the caterpillars from the inside out, so they make an excellent first meal, too.
“Gross.”
He chuckled, “Yes. Some wasps inject as many as eighty eggs into a single caterpillar. They hatch into larvae and push out through the skin while the caterpillar is still living. Before they eat it, the caterpillar guards the wasps as they grow into adults and attack any potential predators that approach.
“We didn't know if wasps altered the caterpillars by releasing hormones or if they actually changed their genes. When we performed the research, it turned out that, along with injecting the egg, the wasps were injecting viral particles. Not diseased viruses, but a virus that was part of the wasp's own biology. Because they were comprised of a multiplicity of DNA, we named them polydnaviruses.
“So we discovered that the wasp had the secret of gene replacement therapy all along. And in one simple sting. It took several years of reverse engineering to figure it out. After that, it was all over. With a single shot, a person could get the latest and greatest genes. Gene replacement therapy was everywhere. One disease after another received gene therapy cures. And then they started using it to change all kinds of things. It became a tool for vanity.
“There are treatments for everything now. Intelligence. Appearance. Treatments for worthless things. Gene therapy has become the plaything of the rich. I was excited to be a part of th
e research when we hoped to cure sick people. But, for me the final straw came when they began to pursue immortality, to eliminate any genes that cause ageing. Now I am disgusted by it.” He tossed the fruit down to the ground. “So I left the research and went to work for Cleveland Clinic. Eventually, I ended up here at Paradeisia.”
“So, any genetic engineering in that fruit?” Aubrey asked.
“There’s no biomarker that I can see. Really, though, I'd have to get it into a laboratory and run some tests.”
Suddenly, Adriaan, who was down on his hand and knees, said, “What in the world?”
Everyone jogged over, their heavy equipment rattling loudly, to see what Adriaan was looking at. There on the ground was a small, camouflage-patterned metal box with a window on one side that housed five rows of small LED bulbs. Underneath those, on the face of the box was a small round hole, and on the bottom was a round, blackened glass protrusion.
Adriaan lifted it off the ground, but the bottom swung open on a hinge. Damaged computer components tumbled out to dangle at the end of several wires.
“What is it?” Bridges asked.
“This is a motion-sensing trail camera. We use them on the savannah all the time. If it detects an animal strolling by, it snaps a photo. The beast doesn't even have time to say 'cheese.'”
Nimitz leaned in to grasp the dangling components, “It looks like it's been destroyed.”
Adriaan said, “You're absolutely right, mate, and purposefully at that. The memory chip has been removed.” Then he looked up to intone, “Someone has some explaining to do.”