by Steve Alten
“You’re blaming me?”
“The plan worked perfectly, we had her trapped in the harbor. The shark was exhausted. Another five minutes and I would have harpooned her. If you hadn’t ordered Celeste to remove the gill net—”
“The shark was attacking those rafts,” Jonas said. “If it hadn’t been for Dief, a lot more people would have died.”
“I disagree,” Maren said. “The creature had already fed. It wasn’t hungry, it only attacked the Tall Ship because it felt threatened. I don’t know what you said to Diefendorf, but it was enough to send him into the sea with the sub. For all we know, the Abyss Glider may have actually spooked the creature.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you panicked, Taylor. Had you said nothing to Dief, the William Beebe would have been able to rescue those passengers without the Megalodon going ballistic, and we still could have harpooned the creature, to say nothing about the fact that Diefendorf would still be alive—”
Celeste watched Jonas’s face turn red with anger.
“—but then, you always seem to panic when it comes to these creatures,” Maren said. “And, unfortunately, somebody always dies as a result.”
Jonas lunged across the table and grabbed the young scientist by his shirt, lifting him clear out of his chair with both hands. Captain Morgan and Harry Moon intercepted Jonas, prying his fingers loose.
Maren turned to Celeste, visibly upset. “Celeste, I’ve had enough of this guy’s bullshit. If you want me to do my job, keep this baboon out of my way.” He glared at Jonas, straightened his torn shirt collar, and marched out of the galley.
Jonas stormed out to the main deck, his hands trembling in anger.
Celeste watched him go, then headed to Dr. Maren’s room. Without bothering to knock, she opened the door.
He was next to the bed, removing his torn shirt.
She reached up and fingered his bruised throat. He gave her a boyish grin. “At this rate I’m going to need a new wardrobe. So? Did I do good?”
“You’ll win the Oscar,” she said.
“And what happens when he bashes my skull in?”
“He won’t, at least not when there’s a crowd around. Stay to the high ground.”
“I’m not afraid of Taylor. It’s his psycho friend, Mackreides, who bothers me.”
“Leave him to me. As for Jonas, I’ll let you know when I want you to piss him off again.”
Maren slipped his arm around Celeste’s waist, pulling her close. “And what about us? You were supposed to come by my cabin last night. What happened?”
She slid her hand over his crotch, giving him a playful squeeze. “I like to tease my prey before I eat them,” she whispered, running the tip of her tongue along his bruised neck. “Guess I wasn’t hungry last night.”
Celeste removed his hand from her waist, whispering into his ear: “Varium et mutabile semper femina.”
“Another one of your mentor’s sayings?”
“It means: Woman is ever a fickle and changeable thing. Be patient with me, Michael darling, I’m worth the wait. In the meantime, redirect that libido of yours and help me recapture my fish.”
* * *
A cluster of television and newspaper reporters waiting on the wharf suddenly turned and ran in unison toward Jonas as he stepped out onto the main deck. Leaning over the starboard rail, they called out questions as the photographers clicked their cameras.
Jonas ducked back inside the boat.
“Going ashore, Taylor?”
Jonas turned, startled by Harry Moon. “Celeste asked me to help her run a few errands.”
“Then you’d better take this.” Harry handed him a cellular phone. “You’ve made a few more enemies over the last twenty-four hours. The ship-to-shore number’s already programmed in memory, just hit ONE and SEND. Check in with us every once in a while so we know you’re okay.”
Jonas pocketed the phone. “Thanks.”
He watched Harry go as Celeste approached from the other end of the corridor. “Come with me into town,” she said. “Anything’s better than dealing with the press.”
Jonas nodded.
Celeste took his arm, leading him to a launch docked along the William Beebe’s port-side bow. They climbed down into the craft and hid beneath a canvas rain cover as the driver started the boat’s engines. Five minutes later, they arrived, unnoticed, along the far side of the Westport Marina.
For the next six hours they visited wholesale purveyors, ordering supplies and arranging the goods to be delivered aboard the ship. By late afternoon they had finished, stopping to rest at a park bench facing the ocean. The sun bathed the wharf in a golden light, casting a warm glow across Celeste’s amber skin. Jonas watched as she fed popcorn to the seagulls.
“I really needed to get off that boat,” she said. “Could I ask you one last favor? We passed a restaurant a few blocks back on West Haven Drive—”
“The Islander?”
“Yes. Let’s go there for dinner.” She smiled. “It’s on the company.”
“Okay.”
“You look tired. It’s still early, why don’t you close your eyes for a few minutes and relax.”
Jonas laid his head back and shut his eyes, the sound of the sea calming him. Within seconds he was asleep.
When he awoke, the sun had turned into a crimson ball, setting quickly along the horizon. Celeste was nuzzled against him. “Have a nice nap?”
Jonas straightened himself and stretched, feeling refreshed. “God, it’s so nice to fall asleep without having a nightmare.”
“See what happens when I watch over you.”
They waited until the sunset had faded to violet, then headed to the restaurant. The maître d’ led them to a candlelit booth facing the water.
Celeste leaned forward. “Jonas, I need to tell you something. I feel very comfortable around you, like I could talk to you about anything. I’ve never had that kind of relationship with a man before. You know I’m also very attracted to you.”
“I’m married—”
“Yes, but be honest. Are you happy? Is Terry happy?”
“We shouldn’t be discussing this right now.”
“Why not? I told you personal things about my life.”
“Celeste, I love my wife, is that so hard for you to understand?”
“No, but is it so hard for you to understand that Terry wants to move on?”
Jonas picked up the menu, feeling uncomfortable. “I had a nice time today. Why screw it up now?”
“I’m trying to help you—”
“No, you’re trying to manipulate me into believing that Terry wants a divorce.”
Celeste smiled. “Okay, I confess. I do have an ulterior motive. The truth is, I think you and I could be very happy together.” She glided her fingertips over the candle’s flame. “Jonas, forget me for a moment. Just answer this question honestly—how did your first marriage end?”
“My first marriage? Why do you want to know about that?”
“Just answer the question. Did you leave her, or did she leave you?”
“If you must know, she left me. She was having an affair with one of my best friends.”
“And why do you think that happened?”
“What are you getting at?”
She reached forward and touched his hand. “What I’m about to say may seem harsh, but I want you to think about it. A woman’s love for a man dies when her partner stops paying attention to her. Women like Terry need constant attention. If you don’t give it to them, they’ll eventually find it from someone else. I don’t know what happened to your first marriage, but I think your marriage to Terry failed because you still feel guilty over what happened eleven years ago.”
Jonas pulled his hand away. “I feel guilty over a lot of things.”
“But eleven years ago was the quintessential moment in your life—the day your obsession with death first began. Two people died under your command. Kn
owing you, I’d say you probably blamed yourself for their deaths and ruined your first marriage in the process. Then, four years ago, you refocused your guilt into hatred, blaming your misery on these sharks.”
Jonas stared out the window. “She died.”
“Who died?”
“Maggie, my first wife. She was killed four years ago by the Megalodon.”
“I’m sorry.”
The waiter interrupted. Celeste ordered for both of them while Jonas continued staring at his dark reflection in the bay window.
“Jonas, are you okay?”
“Can we talk about something else?”
“Okay.” She leaned forward. “Maren pissed you off earlier, didn’t he?”
“The guy’s an asshole.”
“Yes, but he’s an intelligent asshole. I need him around until we recapture the creature.”
“And why do you need me around?”
She smiled. “Maren’s a boy. You’re a man.”
Jonas felt her toes rubbing against his calf. “Celeste—”
“Sorry.” She drained her glass. “How is Masao Tanaka doing?”
“Not well.”
“Perhaps the stress of the Megalodon’s escape was too much for him. Maybe he should retire.”
“I think the news of his daughter descending into the Mariana Trench is what triggered his heart attack, not the shark escaping.”
“Why should Tanaka be concerned about Terry? Doesn’t he think the Benthos is a safe ship?”
“It’s not the Benthos. His son, D.J., was killed in the Trench four years ago.”
“Prastitye, I had completely forgotten.” Celeste picked at her Caesar salad. “Jonas, tell me, how many more of these sharks could really be down there?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure there’s a few.”
“And the Benthos—is it vulnerable to attack?”
“I can’t say. I know Benedict designed the vessel to take a beating, but who knows what else is in the abyss.”
“Now you’ve got me worried. The Trench is so huge . . .” She paused, staring at her water glass. “Jonas, where was it that you first ran into the Megalodon?”
“You mean four years ago?”
“No, the very first time you saw one of the creatures. Eleven years back, when you were piloting the Seacliff.”
“It was a remote location. We nicknamed the site the ‘Devil’s Purgatory.’”
Her eyes lit up. “Devil’s Purgatory. Do you remember the exact coordinates?”
“Yes, but I can’t discuss it. The mission was classified, and the Navy’s already pissed off enough at me.”
“You know I’m only interested because I’m worried about Benedict and the Benthos crew. They’re family, all I have left. What if the Benthos is exploring the same area of the Trench—this Devil’s Purgatory?”
“What if they are?”
“Don’t you think the chances of them running across another Megalodon may be greater? Don’t you think we should warn them to stay away from that location?”
“There’s no reason to think that area could be any more dangerous than another. Besides, I told you, I can’t give out the coordinates.”
“But if another creature the size of Angel is down there—”
“Nothing as big as Angel’s in the Trench. That I can assure you.”
“But still, you said there may be other sharks. Jonas, I promise I won’t tell a soul. I’m just worried. Earlier I said I trusted you. Don’t you trust me?”
“It’s not a question of trust, Celeste. Top secret means top secret. Masao’s like a father to me, but I couldn’t reveal the coordinates to him, either.”
“Fine.” She slammed down her fork. “Just forget I asked.”
“Don’t be mad.”
“I am mad, and I’m disappointed. I thought we were friends.”
“We are.”
“If Mackreides asked you for the coordinates, would you tell him?”
“Celeste—”
“I don’t understand how some obscure piece of information that’s more than eleven years old could possibly hurt the United States Navy.”
“That’s because you don’t know what the mission was about.”
“I don’t want to know what the mission was about. In fact, I couldn’t care less. I told you, I’m just worried about the people on board the Benthos.”
“Terry, let’s change the subject.”
Celeste frowned. “You just called me Terry.”
“I did?” Jonas rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Freudian slip. I’m just real tired. Can we talk about something else?”
“I have a better idea. Let’s not talk at all.”
* * *
Harry Moon greeted them as they boarded the William Beebe.
“What happened to all the reporters?” Jonas asked.
“Dr. Maren spoke with them briefly. Glad you’re back, we’re about ready to shove off. Maren’s been driving the captain crazy since the new Abyss Glider was delivered two hours ago. He was ready to send out a search party for the two of you. I think he’s afraid the creature’s getting too far ahead of us.”
“I pay Maren to worry,” Celeste said.
Jonas reached into his pocket, removing the cellular phone Harry had given him earlier.
“Just hang on to it for the duration of the trip,” Harry said.
“Jonas, I’m exhausted,” Celeste said. “Would you mind walking me to my cabin?”
They strolled across the deck, pausing to admire the new Abyss Glider, which had been assembled and mounted on its sled in the stern.
Jonas stared at the one-man sub, the blood draining from his face. “What in the—what the fuck is this thing doing on board?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t fuck with me, Celeste, you know damn well what I’m talking about. This is an AG-2, the deep-water model. What the hell is it doing here? Did you order this?”
“Jonas, calm down. It was the only sub the Institute had available on short notice. It may not be as fast as the AG-1, but it’ll still do the job. Is there a problem?”
“Hell—yes, there’s a problem—there’s a big fucking problem! Goddamn it, Celeste, I told you about my nightmares and now you’ve brought an AG-2 aboard? Are you toying with me?”
“Jonas—”
“That sub is my fucking coffin!”
She grabbed him by the arm. “Stop this nonsense. It’s not your coffin. You’re not even the one who’s going to be piloting it.”
She followed him inside as the William Beebe’s engines growled to life. “Jonas—wait. I’m sorry. Are you all right?”
“No. Do me a favor, just leave me alone. I can’t—I can’t think straight.”
“Come with me, I know just what you need.” She led him to her cabin door. “Come in and have a quick drink, it will settle your nerves.”
“Not tonight.”
“Jonas, the night’s still young. Allow me to apologize the right way.” She reached her hand around his waist, pressing her groin to his.
Jonas pushed her away. “Don’t. Look, I told you, I love Terry.”
“Did you also love your first wife after she stopped loving you? Stay with me tonight, Jonas. You don’t have to make love to me if you’re not ready. Just let me watch over you while you sleep. I’ll keep your nightmares away.”
He stared at her, her breasts heaving, her lust intoxicating. So beautiful . . . so dangerous.
She unbuttoned her shirt. “No one could love you the way I could,” she whispered, reaching for his pants.
Jonas grabbed her wrists, feeling his own hands trembling with desire. “Knock it off, Celeste. This isn’t going to happen.”
“I know you want me, Jonas—”
“Good night, Celeste.”
She watched him head down the hall. “Jonas, I bet you’ll think of me tonight when you’re alone.”
Jonas ignored her. He pushed open his cabin door, not noticing D
r. Maren watching from the end of the corridor.
The Spider and the Fly
Mariana Trench
Heath Williams continued to search his computer files, frustrated at the lack of pertinent information available on ancient marine reptiles. At least he knew what monstrous prehistoric species the immense fossilized section of skull belonged to. Unfortunately, he also knew that wouldn’t be enough for Benedict. He typed in another command, accessing Jonas Taylor’s theories on Carcharodon megalodon.
He looked up to see Sergei enter the lab.
“Sergei, back here.” Heath directed him into the back room and closed the door behind him.
Hearing the door close, Terry sneaked out of the lab’s supply closet and into the outer corridor, heading up to the bridge to find Benedict.
“You wanted to speak?” Sergei said, eyeing Heath suspiciously.
“Yes. I’ve now dated this fossil and completed my taxonomy work. Based on measurements of this skull, I’d say we’re looking at a creature whose dimensions match those of the life-forms that chased the Prometheus. I’m almost certain that the animals swarming after the sub come from the same lineage as this fossil. Benedict needs to know that we’re dealing with pack hunters that are probably faster and more cunning than Carcharodon megalodon—and perhaps even more dangerous. I strongly recommend that all future submersible missions into the Trench be postponed until we can figure out a way of dealing with these creatures.”
Sergei scoffed, already knowing Benedict’s reply.
* * *
“You wish to board the Prometheus?” Benedict’s emerald eyes became laser beams, seeking to penetrate her innermost thoughts.
Terry turned away from him to face the LEXAN observation window. The bioluminescent creatures of the abyss twinkled in the pitch-black water like a bizarre night sky. “I know it seems like a strange request, given what happened yesterday, but I just feel like it’s something I should do. What was it you said? Yield not to misfortune?”
Benedict thumbed his goatee. “And the presence of these mysterious life-forms no longer bothers you?”
“Of course it bothers me,” Terry said. “I have a healthy dose of fear, just like the crew of the Prometheus. But I’m not going to allow that to interfere with my responsibilities. I’m willing to face my fears.”