“No, I have to practice economy anyway,” she demurred. “I don't want to crowd myself out of my apartment.”
“I had heard that little girls like pretty stones. I guess big girls do too.”
“It's hard to outgrow,” she agreed, picking up the nearest stone. It was a nondescript aggregate with patches of white, brown, and yellow, weighing close to a pound. Too big to take with her, really; she could take a dozen smaller, purer, and more varied stones for that weight.
She was about to put it down when Nathan spoke. “It resembles Newfoundland. The island, I mean, as seen on a contour map, with colors denoting the elevations and lakes. See, it's roughly in the shape of a right angled triangle. We should be about there.” He touched a spot near its southeast base. “I wonder whether we could see us, in miniature, if we had a magnifying glass?”
She looked at him, trying to keep a straight face. “I think your imagination is dangerous.” But now she found herself unable to put down the stone. It had become special. So she carried it with her despite its heft, hoping that soon she would find more suitable stones and be satisfied to exchange this for them.
They found the lake. It turned out to be too small to support fish, being hardly more than a wet weather pond. But Nathan was good natured about it. “I can survive for a day without spying a new species of fish. I'm enjoying the exploration.”
But that reminded her of the way Kalinda James had teased Garth about not being able to be away from the water for more than three hours without becoming obnoxious. They had gone back out to sea—and now Kalinda was dead and Garth was raving in a hospital.
“If I said something—” he said, concerned.
“Oh, no, not your fault,” she said quickly. “A chain of thought. I was talking to Kalinda James just hours before—before she died. She had spoken of her husband's need to get out to sea, as if it were an addiction, and your reference to needing to see fish—it was just a foolish connection my mind made, and it dumped me into a mire.”
“I'm sorry. I had forgotten that you knew them. Of course this is a bad time for you. I shouldn't have asked you to come out here today.”
She had to laugh, somewhat weakly. “I asked you, Nathan!”
“Well, I shouldn't have accepted.”
“You're way too generous. I should have realized that I'd be moody and distracted, and not bothered you.”
“If this is your moody and distracted phase, I'd love to know you when you're cheerful and focused!”
She looked at him, suspecting irony, but there was no evidence of it. He just seemed to be a remarkably easygoing person. She experienced a surge of awkward emotion. “Can we talk?” she asked suddenly.
“Certainly. I enjoy talking with you.”
“Let's find a place to sit down.”
They found a low outcropping of rocks that provided nice places to sit. They faced each other. Natalie hesitated, not sure how to begin. She held the stone in her lap, running her fingers over its contours. Nathan had the sensitivity not to prompt her. He looked entirely relaxed.
“The other night, you told me a good deal about you,” she finally said.
“I may have talked too much.”
“No, I found it interesting. I liked listening. And that's my problem. I—find myself getting intrigued with you in a male-female way, and it really isn't fair to continue this dialogue if—”
He smiled. “I'm interested. I'm not married. I was once, but it didn't work out. She found me too diffident about practical things, and too interested in invertebrates. I hope you aren't going to tell me that you are married.”
“Not exactly. I—was. Married. And I didn't like it. It was a bad experience that I wouldn't care to repeat. So I really haven't been shopping for a man. But—am I embarrassing you?”
“You are delighting me. I think you are trying to say what I lacked the nerve to say to you.”
“I'm saying that I'm not exactly virginal.”
He laughed. “I should hope not! If you were once married—”
She had to smile. “I mean emotionally. The—the bloom is off. I don't know how my experience would affect my association with another man. It might doom any compatible relationship.”
He nodded. “May I be impertinent, Natalie?”
“Please. I'm nervous about being too serious.”
“There's a song from the musical The King and I that came into my head just now. It is titled, if I remember it correctly, “Shall We Dance?” and it describes how a dance can lead a couple to romance by a number of stages.”
“I am familiar with it.”
“It concludes ‘With the clear understanding that this kind of thing can happen, shall we dance?’ So the implication is that they are not going entirely blindly into the possible consequence of the event. I always liked that line.” He met her gaze for a moment. “So with a similarly clear understanding, shall we talk?”
Now she had to laugh. “Yes, let's talk,” she agreed gladly. He had made it easy, again.
She marshaled her memories and plunged in. “I might as well start at the beginning. Stop me when I get boring, and I'll try to cut to the chase. It—it's just not entirely comfortable getting into this particular matter.”
“It would be a dull life indeed that had no discomfort. There's a Chinese curse: ‘May you live in interesting times.’ “
“I fear it is possible to live in boring times, and still be spoiled.” She took a breath. “I was born in Ossining, New York, and moved with my family to New York City when I was eight years old. My father was a physician and chemist. My mother, the former Antonia de Paiva Pereira, was the daughter of a high ranking official in the Brazilian government.” She glanced at him, but he showed no sign of boredom yet. “So it was a mixed family, of a sort, but fairly bright.”
“So your intellect did not appear from nowhere,” Nathan said. “I hadn't really supposed that it had.”
He seemed to know just what to say! Or maybe she was primed to react positively to any remark he made. That notion made her nervous. She knew she had to get this done with soon, and suffer the worst before she allowed herself to get in any deeper emotionally.
“I was stimulated by the intellectual climate of New York City and did quite well in my school classes. When my family returned to Ossining during my high school years, I was at first depressed. But when I graduated second in my class from Ossining High School, my spirits improved, and I went on to Franklin and Marshall College in Pennsylvania where I double-majored in criminology and botany.”
“And you thought this was routine?” he asked with a lifted eyebrow.
She smiled. He really did seem interested. “No. I always loved the look on friends’ faces when I told them of my odd mixture of interests. Unfortunately, my father grew ill at the same time, and I had to drop out of college early to help support my family and pay the medical bills. My parents died when I was in my early twenties, at which point I was more interested in supporting myself than in returning to college. So at the age of 21 I moved to Las Vegas where I worked as a self-employed horticulturist who did work for several of the casinos.”
“You majored in criminology and associated with casinos?”
“I didn't touch their business. I hate gambling. But they paid excellent money for suitable plants. It was a living, doing what I liked. But I wasn't satisfied. I'm—” She paused. “I have a great need for affection, love, and physical pleasure. I didn't like living alone. So maybe I was too ready to find romance. To convince myself.
“Aren't we all,” he said.
She was glad for the pretext to delay her conclusion. “You got into something?”
“I was really too busy. But I confess that on occasion I might have wished to know one of the female students better. But who would want to share a life with a man whose passion is sea creatures without backbones?”
She had a ready answer for that, but this was not the time. “Did you ever actually inquire?”
&n
bsp; He grinned ruefully. “Not after my first failure. I couldn't find the words, ironically. I was never at a loss for words in the classroom or on field trips, but the moment I strayed from zoology I lost my tongue. Especially in the presence of an interesting woman.”
“Well, that explains why you've had no such difficulty today!”
He actually blushed. “That's not—I didn't mean—it's been so natural with you that—” He shook his head. “ ‘I guess I put my foot in it. I apologize. I do find you—that is—” He stalled out.
She realized that he was having extreme difficulty telling her that he liked her. He really did lack ready words in this connection. She hadn't realized it before because she had pretty much carried the ball to him, so far. He wasn't short of feeling, just nerve. And—she liked that too. “No offense taken,” she said, keeping her gaze on the stone. “I shouldn't have teased you.” Such teasing had come so naturally to Garth and Kalinda, but obviously Natalie herself lacked the touch for it.
“I think I have just sufficiently clarified why I never married again,” he said. “Or even came close to it. It was not for lack of desire. It's simply not a specialty of competence for me.”
He didn't realize how attractive that made him to her. But it was best to cool it until she had said her piece. She didn't want the kind of disappointment she would otherwise risk. “At any rate, I was too eager,” she continued. “I married a tall Dutch chef for the John Ebersole Restaurant in Vegas.” She swallowed, then hurried on. “But the marriage ended after two years. Despite his pre-marriage promises to stop smoking and drinking, my husband continued. In fact, he began to drink more and more, and paid me less and less attention.”
“What a waste,” Nathan murmured.
“Maybe I was too demanding,” she said, trying to be fair. “I had always been smart in school instead of popular. I simply may have expected too much of marriage.”
He shook his head. “He was an alcoholic. They can be very good at placing the blame for their condition elsewhere. That marriage was surely doomed, regardless.”
“Maybe so. I tried so hard, but the Dutchman seemed totally uninterested. How could someone change so abruptly after marriage? I wondered. I was finally happy when I had the courage to end it.”
Nathan looked at her penetratingly. “I have had no personal experience with this sort of thing, but I think I ought to ask. Was he—?”
“Abusive? Yes. I didn't really understand the way of it at first. I blamed myself. And I think I am scarred.”
“Emotionally,” he said.
“When it started moving from the verbal to the physical, I—well, I had had training in self defense, of course. So he didn't actually beat on me. I beat on him, technically, when he tried it. But the whole thing disgusted me so much that I lost my taste for any kind of romance for some time. Now I—I would like to have a relationship with someone. With you, perhaps. But I'm just not ready for—”
“I understand,” he said quickly. “I had too little; you had too much.”
“But you see, if you have hopes of—of an affair—I'm probably wasting your time. I'm not saying that I wouldn't be willing to try, just that it might lead to disaster. Because of my—reactions. For example, the moment I smell liquor I get tense. Arresting drunks is fine, but I don't—don't—”
“You don't have to kiss a drunk,” he said. “I well understand the aversion.”
“I thought I should tell you that up-front. To free you, in case—”
“I think I am not at all like your ex-husband,” he said seriously. “My problem is the opposite extreme. You need have no fear of any untoward expectations. I'm quite satisfied just to be looking for rocks and lakes with you.” He considered. “But I must admit that I would like to hold your hand again.”
“My hand you may have,” she said, smiling. She set down the rock and put out her hand with a little flourish, and he took it. “The rest is readily told. After I left the Dutchman, I once again packed my bags. This time I took a vacation in Newfoundland—where I have been ever since. I love the land, the people, the sea, and everything. I joined the police force two years ago when I was 28. And that's my life history.”
“I wasn't bored at all.” He smiled ruefully. “In fact, I think this is the closest I have ever been to a woman. Emotionally. I realize that sounds odd, considering my onetime marriage, but there's the matter of rapport.” He shrugged. “Perhaps I exaggerate.”
“I don't think so.” She considered a moment. “I was mostly satisfied, until—” She shrugged, deciding on candor. “Until Garth and Kalinda showed me how marriage could be. I was coming to understand what I had missed. Then I met you.” She nerved herself again. “I have been considerably more forward with you than I ever thought I could be. If you wish to go now, please do it quickly.” She glanced at the motorcycle. “Figuratively speaking. I'd rather not be stranded here physically.”
Nathan laughed. “I don't think I could leave you now, literally or figuratively. I spoke too much, the other night, because somehow I just wanted you to know me. I think you wanted me to know you, similarly.” He looked down, then met her gaze. “Are you repulsed by fish or invertebrates?”
“Not any more, I think. As long as they don't drink whiskey. Though some of those exhibits in Martha's Fish Store—”
“I was repulsed by some of that.” He looked around. “Let's continue our explorations, of whatever nature.”
She glanced at the sky. “That may not be wise. I see a cloud on the horizon.”
“No bigger than a man's hand,” he agreed. “We had better start back after all.”
“Yes,” she said with regret, picking up her rock. It would have to do. They walked toward the motorcycle.
CHAPTER 19
Monster
IT HAD BEEN several years ago that Martha Samules began experiments with pycnogonids in her modest lab in back of her fish store. So little was known about any species living near Newfoundland, as well as deep-sea species in general, that Martha thought she could make an interesting contribution to science, at the same time satisfying her own curiosity. She also considered the possibility that one day she might use them for her own personal purposes, the nature of which became clearer as she performed various biochemical experiments over the years.
Initially, she was simply curious about their life cycles and how they traveled so elegantly with their long, gangly legs. Subliminally she felt a connection with them on an emotional and physical level: both Martha and the sea spiders were fairly ugly and misunderstood, they both had long appendages, they both possessed a stout body and will—a will stronger than a casual observer might ever discern. Only later did she begin to formulate a plan for using the pycnogonids for her own terrible purposes: to control world population.
Each day during the cool summer, she went to Trinity and Bonavista Bay with her scuba gear, and roamed the sea floor in search of specimens. For some reason, sea spiders were more common in the cold waters of the Arctic and Antarctic seas than they were elsewhere, although they were found in all seas. This fact made the cold waters of Newfoundland a particularly nice place in which to search for the creatures. Once she spotted a sea spider, Martha slowly crept up behind it and then grabbed it with her gloved right hand. Then she tossed the writhing creature into a metallic cage. She usually came home with two or three pycnos a day for her experiments.
Back in her van, Martha submerged the cages in a large plastic vat of salt water she kept by the van's back doors. The ride from the coast to her fish store took around five minutes. The pyncos usually tried to escape by climbing the cage walls, but the cages were perfect prisons of hard metal wire. Once back at the lab she dropped them into salt-water aquaria with larger filters to keep the water clean.
Martha began to operate on the pycnos while they were still alive, after pinning them upside down on a dissecting pan. She did have reservations about cutting and probing them while they made terrible mewing sounds and waved their long
proboscises, because she really didn't enjoy inflicting any pain on innocent creatures. However her need to learn more about the pycnos was greater than her hesitancy regarding any discomfort they might feel, or the ghastly sight of their writhing legs as she removed some of their shell-like exoskeletons and peeked inside.
After discovering a small air cavity at the base of the creature's abdomen, she began to probe at the muscles and nerves that lined the cavity, through the internal hatch door she had cut in the exoskeleton.
“Ooh,” she squealed, as the creature's legs responded when she pressed certain pressure points inside the abdomen. What worked for lobsters worked for sea spiders too. Through the next few weeks she found that by pressing particular muscles and nerves in the abdomen, she could trigger certain specific leg motions. Through the next month a plan began to form in her mind. If she could obtain and train some specimens of the Colossendeis species of sea spiders, which normally could attain the size of an adult human, and somehow get them to grow to elephantine proportions, she could actually use the creatures as submarines. She could make an artificial hatch in one of the creatures’ abdomens, crawl inside, and guide it under water. A crazy idea, she thought. But it might just be possible.
Although specimens of Colossendeis could attain sizes close to that of an adult human, Martha continued to be interested in creating even bigger versions of the animal. After reading articles by University of Maryland researchers on the use of human growth hormone in salmon to produce fish that were two to three times their normal size, she attempted to do the same with the pycnos. The process was called genetic engineering.
For starters, Martha knew of researchers who had isolated growth hormones from tiny fruit flies called Drosophila. When the level of the hormone was increased it had made the flies grow to three times their normal size. Since pycnogonids and fruit flies were both members of the same phylum, the arthropods, Martha hoped that the fruit fly hormones would be similar enough to have a noticeable effect on pycnos.
Spider Legs Page 12