by Brian Keene
“—situation has not changed, unfortunately. The fact is, he’s dying. Slowly, yes, but without an antidote, his fate is inevitable. I’ve got a lot of experience with toxins from both aquatic and terrestrial creatures in this region. The only way I know of to cure him is to retrieve a poison gland from the animal that attacked him. Once I have that, I can attempt to manufacture an antivenom. But I can’t make any guarantees.”
“You would do well to remember our arrangement.”
“I’m not saying I won’t do it or that I can’t do it. I’m just saying it might not work. Remember, I still have no idea what we’re dealing with. Maybe if you people were a little more forthcoming, I could be of more assistance.”
“You’re doing just fine, Dr. Barbet.”
“Well, you’ll pardon me if I don’t see it that way. One of my patients is dying. What do you expect me to do?”
“We expect you to continue observing him and recording the scientific data.”
“You don’t care about his status?”
“Obviously, we’d prefer he live. We’re not monsters, doctor. But there are bigger issues at stake here than the fate of one person.”
Paolo, Carrie realized. They’re talking about Paolo. And that son of a bitch Ochse is treating him like he’s some fucking statistic.
“I see,” Barbet continued. “And there’s no way you could provide me with a poison gland from this … whatever it is that attacked him?”
“We’ve brought in a team to further engage the creature, but their scientific expertise is somewhat lacking. Our employer—your employer—didn’t hire them to perform surgery.”
“What sort of team?”
“A private security force, of sorts.”
“Mercenaries?”
“Obtaining a poison gland isn’t going to be their mission priority. I doubt they’d even know how to go about it.”
“May I ask what their mission priority is?”
“You may not, Doctor. That’s on a need-to-know basis. Is there any other way to treat the patient? Something you might have overlooked?”
“What about the egg?” Barbet asked. “The one Anderson brought to shore with her? When they first arrived, we performed an ultrasound on it. I’m no expert on this creature, simply because we still don’t know what it is, but developmentally, the fetus seemed far enough along to have at least the beginning of a rudimentary poison gland. Perhaps we could begin with that?”
“I don’t know what you’re referring to, Dr. Barbet. There are no records of Anderson bringing an egg ashore.”
“What? What are you talking about? You were there when we brought them in. The egg is down in the lab right now. You signed for it!”
“There is no egg, Dr. Barbet. Perhaps you’re mistaken.”
“I’m not mistaken! I performed the ultrasound myself. I’ll take you down to the lab and show it to you right now. We’ve got it in storage.”
“The egg doesn’t exist. A search of your lab will confirm that, I think.”
“You took it? Why?”
“I said no such thing.”
Having heard enough, Carrie flung the door open hard enough that it slammed into the wall. She burst into the hall. Barbet, Ochse, Maberry, and another man, whose laminated identification badge indicated was another Alpinus security employee named Mariotte, all turned to look at her. Their expressions were startled, except for Maberry, who merely arched an eyebrow.
“This is such fucking bullshit,” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing!”
“Ah,” Ochse said, “Miss Anderson. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”
“Go fuck yourself, asshole.”
Flinching, Ochse offered her a tight-lipped smile. “Hmmm. There’s really no need for that kind of language. I just—”
“Save it. You’re lying. You lied to me yesterday when I brought up the egg, and you’re lying now.”
Ochse held up his hands in mock surrender. “I assure you, Carrie, I’m not—”
“I said can it, asshole.” She turned to Barbet. “Doctor, did you really perform an ultrasound on the egg?”
Shifting from foot to foot, the doctor glanced back and forth between Carrie and the Alpinus officials. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. With a sigh, he turned his gaze to the floor.
“Listen, lady,” Mariotte said. He had the hoarse rasp of a longtime smoker, and glared at her through a pair of glasses that were smudged with fingerprints. “Before you say another word, you might want to pause for a minute, remember just what your situation is.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Carrie bristled. “Is that supposed to be some sort of threat?”
“It means—”
Ochse held up a hand, silencing him.
“Go outside,” he commanded, his voice low. “Take a break. I’ll handle this.”
“But…”
“I said go, Mariotte. Smoke a cigarette. I know you’re dying for one. Hell, smoke two of them.”
“Actually,” Barbet said, his tone sheepish, “there’s no smoking in this facility.”
“Oh yeah?” Mariotte took a step toward the doctor. “Who’s gonna stop me?”
“Mariotte!” Ochse’s ears turned red. “Go. Now.”
Scowling, Mariotte stalked off down the hall. His footsteps echoed loudly on the tiles. Unlike the other agents, his suit was ill-fitting and wrinkled. The fabric seemed to cling to his body in all the wrong angles. Carrie fought to regain her composure as they watched him exit through a set of double doors at the end of the corridor. She realized that her hands were balled into fists at her sides. Her fingernails had dug into the flesh of her palms.
The color slowly faded from Ochse’s ears after Mariotte was gone. The agent took a deep breath, exhaled, and opened his mouth to speak. Before he could, however, the door to another hospital room opened, and a familiar face stepped out into the hallway.
“Abhi,” Carrie exclaimed. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he grumbled. “Or at least I was until all this shouting started out here. The doctor told me to rest up. How am I supposed to do that with everyone yelling right outside my door? What’s going on?”
“They’re lying about the egg,” Carrie told him.
“The egg?”
“The one we brought ashore with us. The one the creature was after. They’re letting Paolo die to keep the egg whole.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Who knows?” Carrie shook her head in frustration. “Who knows what reason?”
Abhi frowned. “They told me they never retrieved the egg.”
“We didn’t,” Ochse insisted. “Now, I don’t know what you thought you heard the doctor say, Miss Anderson, but you’re obviously mistaken. I’m sorry if that upsets you, or if you think I’m lying, but I swear to you, it’s the truth.”
“Bullshit,” Carrie mumbled.
“No,” Ochse countered, “it’s not. I assure you, there is no egg. It’s understandable that you’re confused. That you misheard things. You’ve been through a traumatic situation. Indeed, in the last week, you’ve been hospitalized twice. I think we all understand that.”
Carrie stepped toward him, her eyes blazing with vehemence. “I know what I heard. And if I don’t get some goddamn answers right now, the press will know what I heard, too.”
Maberry stirred, his face still an expressionless slate, but his body was a tense mass of coiled muscle. Carrie glanced at him in disgust. He met her gaze with his creepy, emotionless eyes. Repressing a shudder, Carrie glanced at Abhi and winked in gratitude. Then she saw that he’d forgotten to tie his hospital robe in the back.
“Your butt is showing.”
“Oh,” Abhi turned red. “Sorry!”
Carrie returned her attention to Ochse.
“I know what I heard,” she repeated, keeping her voice calm and collected. “Dr. Barbet said he examined the egg. He said there was a fetus inside. He also said it mig
ht be possible to extract a poison gland from the fetus.”
Ochse shrugged. “Well, he’s not saying that now. Are you, Dr. Barbet?”
Barbet kept his eyes on the floor, and didn’t reply.
“We never received an egg.” Ochse’s tone was placating. “But we are just as concerned about Paolo as you are, Carrie. We’re concerned about all of you. Alpinus Biofutures values all of their team members.”
Carrie snorted with contempt. “That’s not what you said earlier.”
Ochse held up his hands in surrender. “Will I jeopardize the lives of others strictly to save his? No, I will not. But I also see that you are adamant about this, and I respect your concern for your friend. We don’t have this egg, but perhaps there is another way to help Paolo—a way to obtain this poison gland.”
“I’m listening.”
“We’ve hired another vessel and a team to go back out to the collapse. If you wish, you are welcome to accompany them, provided Dr. Barbet thinks you’re well enough to be released from the clinic. He gives the okay and I’ll clear you for travel. You can accompany the team and extract a gland from the creature, if you’re able, and as long as it doesn’t interfere with the team’s main objective. Fair enough?”
Enraged, but seeing no way beyond the agent’s stonewall, Carrie nodded in agreement.
“I’m going, too,” Abhi said.
Ochse shook his head. “I’m afraid—”
“You will be,” Abhi interrupted, “if you try to stop me. I go where Carrie goes. After all, I too can be in touch with chatty journalists.”
Despite her anger, Carrie felt a deep sense of appreciation and gratitude well up inside of her for the older man. She repressed a smile, and blinked sudden tears from her eyes.
Then she realized that his robe was hanging open again.
“When is your team leaving?” she asked Ochse.
“They raise anchor tonight.”
“That’s good,” Dr. Barbet said. “Given Paolo’s condition, there’s no time to waste. The sooner you get a poison gland, the quicker I can attempt to manufacture an antivenom.”
“Okay.” Carrie nodded. “Then what are we waiting for? Get us on that boat.”
TEN
As the sun slowly set, agents Maberry and Mariotte drove Carrie and Abhi to the port in a black, nondescript sport utility vehicle. Mariotte twitched for most of the ride, obviously in the throes of nicotine withdrawal, and, Carrie suspected, still angry about being reprimanded by Ochse in front of her. Maberry was his laconic, taciturn self. As a result, there was very little conversation during the drive.
Mariotte kept changing the radio stations, apparently dissatisfied with the various programs being offered. Most of the broadcasts were dominated with the latest news regarding the collapse and speculation on whether or not an island-wide evacuation would take place. Apparently, the government and the United Nations had finally drafted a proposal, outlining the logistics of such a massive endeavor.
While it didn’t make up for the loss of their personal items, representatives from Alpinus had given Carrie and Abhi clothes to wear, as well as equipping Carrie with another wetsuit and diving mask, in case she needed them on this expedition. The clinic had also fed them well before their departure. The cafeteria offerings had included seafood, chicken, pasta, and a fresh fruit and salad bar. Still unsure if she’d be diving or not, Carrie had limited her intake and focused on staying hydrated. Now, her stomach growled in complaint. Abhi, however, burped contentedly.
She stared out the window and wondered what her sister was doing right now, back home. She must be worried; they hadn’t gone this long without touching base in years. Then her thoughts returned to Paolo. She made a point of focusing her worries on him, so that she wouldn’t have to think about or examine the things she’d seen and heard while hallucinating. She had demanded to see him again, before they departed. He had still been pretty out of it, so there had been no opportunity for them to discuss anything, or the fact that she was risking her life to get this poison gland, but that hadn’t mattered. For her, it was enough just to see him.
Carrie also kept looking for landmarks or street names that she recognized, but she saw nothing familiar. It had been her hope that once she and Abhi were outside the facility, she might be able to determine the mysterious clinic’s location. Unfortunately, she had no such luck. Maberry almost exclusively stuck to remote, rural areas. It occurred to Carrie that perhaps this particular route had been chosen for that reason—to keep her and Abhi from learning more regarding their whereabouts.
It was almost dark by the time they reached the harbor. All that remained of the sun was just a dim red smear on the horizon. Carrie glanced around at the harbor, trying to figure out where they were, but again, she saw nothing familiar.
Abhi fidgeted nervously in the backseat.
“What’s on your mind?” Carrie asked, trying to keep her voice low.
He glanced at the agents in the front seat and then shrugged.
“You suspected that the monster was afraid of sunlight.”
“It’s not a monster, Abhi. It’s just a lifeform we haven’t identified yet.”
“Perhaps that is so. But whatever it is, it does not like the light. Correct?”
“That’s my best guess, yes. It didn’t surface to attack us until Paolo took the egg. And even then, it kept most of its bulk beneath the water.”
“Well, now the sun has gone down, and we’re going back out there. Probably not our wisest choice. Don’t you agree?”
“It’s not a choice at all,” Carrie replied. “But you heard what the doctor said. Every minute we waste is one less minute Paolo has left.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Abhi said. “I just wish the rest of my paint thinner hadn’t gone down with the boat. I could do with a drink right now. Not to mention my father’s pipe. That was irreplaceable, and it was on the boat, as well. I had always hoped to pass it on to my son, some day. Of course, in order to do that, I would have to have children first.”
“I’m sorry.” Carrie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “When this is over, you can make all the hooch you want. And you can make all the kids you want, too. And I’ll even buy you a new pipe.”
“And a new Sudoku book? Because I never finished my other one.”
Carrie laughed. “And a new Sudoku book.”
“And don’t forget, you still owe me money for the last boat.”
“But the creature trashed it.”
Abhi grinned. “That doesn’t excuse your debt.”
“You’re a conniving old fart.”
“Thank you, Carrie. I’m fond of you, too.”
“Hate to break up your touching moment,” Mariotte growled, “but we’re here.”
The vehicle slowed to a stop alongside a ship that looked so decrepit, Carrie’s first thought was that it must be decommissioned. That notion was squashed when she saw all the activity onboard the vessel. She judged that it was approximately 160 feet long, with a beam of maybe twenty-five feet. The hull was a patchwork of different colors of paint, all various shades of gray or black, interspersed with clinging barnacles and cancerous-looking splotches of rust.
“Wait here,” Mariotte said. “This isn’t the type of place you want to go wandering off in. Especially after dark.”
“I’m a big girl,” Carrie said. “I can take care of myself.”
Shaking his head, Mariotte got out of the SUV. A moment later, Maberry joined him. The two men hurried toward the ship.
“I’m a big girl, too,” Abhi called.
Neither agent turned around.
“So,” Abhi said, “what now?”
“They didn’t lock us in,” Carrie observed. “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of sitting.”
“That’s a good idea. My ass hurts.”
Carrie opened her door slightly. When the two agents didn’t turn around or react, she pushed it out the rest of the way.
A gro
up of clouds passed over the moon, and the already shadowy pier grew even darker.
“Jesus,” Carrie muttered to Abhi as they exited the vehicle and stretched. “And I thought that boat you got for us was bad.”
Abhi nodded. “I’m not sure I’ve mentioned it lately, but I still haven’t been reimbursed for that boat.”
“You have mentioned it lately.” Carrie snickered. “Two minutes ago, in fact.”
He shrugged. “Dementia is common in men my age. Why else would I have agreed to go back out there with you tonight?”
“Because you love me.”
Abhi chuckled. “Have I mentioned that you owe me money for the boat?”
“Stop it, Abhi! You’re going to give me a complex.” Carrie gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. “I’ll add it to the list, okay? Sudoku book, a new pipe, and money for the boat. Maybe you can buy this thing. Although, I’m not sure you’d want to. It looks ancient.”
“Aye,” Abhi agreed, surveying the vessel. “She’s old, for sure. I’d guess she was built in the fifties, maybe. Probably steam-driven at one point, but she’s been retrofitted for diesel now. And that’s not the only modern enhancement. See all those small arms mounted at various spots? And that big gun there is a Bofors.”
“A Bofors?”
Abhi nodded. “Bofors forty millimeter auto-cannon. It’s an anti-aircraft gun. First became popular back during World War II, but they’re so reliable that they’re still used today. That things got a range of over twelve thousand meters and can fire, if I remember correctly, three hundred thirty rounds per minute.”
“Should I be impressed?” Carrie asked.
“I certainly am,” Abhi replied. “Whoever the owner is, they’re not here to fuck around. I guarantee you this ship has seen some combat more than once. It’s a good guess the crew has, too. She’s not a research vessel. It’s a boat made for fighting. And notice something else?”
“What’s that?”
“She’s got no markings. No designation. She’s flying a Japanese flag, but there’s no number or classification on her hull. Not even a name.”
Carrie frowned in confusion. “So what does that mean?”
“That she’s not loved.” Abhi sounded sad. “That she’s just being used. She’s just another weapon. Another tool.”