by JK Franks
This day just kept getting weirder, and like the ones in Antarctica, it apparently was never going to end. “So, they’re…what, inside a submersible, a submarine? Trapped in a sinking boat, what?”
“Surviving at that depth for any time requires very specialized equipment. A sub or possibly a deep sea habitat, maybe something like the XODs Riley has designed,” Doris answered.
“So, what about the one that's on the surface?” Cade asked.
Doris paused, “Well, he's um…well, they aren’t getting any response from that person either. And he seems to be adrift. The signal is moving slowly with the current. Currently, he’s heading near Cayman waters. I think we can get a patrol from there to pick him up.”
Cade sprang into captain mode, “I’ll get the ball rolling. Charlie, get your team up in the general vicinity. Let’s base somewhere close, so we can plan an op. Doris and I will try and get some answers from our girl here in the meantime. Something tells me she has an idea on what we are up against.”
54
Jasmine Kline looked fantastic. Her hair was now more of a chestnut brown than red, and longer. Cade stood in the doorway to Riley’s main lab watching Jaz for a few minutes. Even he admitted there was something there, but that was all he would concede. She looked up at him with a grin that could have melted all the ice in Antarctica.
“You’re up? Riley said you were still in medical.”
He looked at her and saw something…new. Or maybe it was something he should have been seeing all along. “I’m here,” he said without elaborating. They embraced; it was brief and not overly romantic, but also not so awkward…not anymore. It was nice, he decided. “Good to see you, Jaz.”
She nodded. “I stopped by to see you several times, but you were always asleep. The cuts and bruises looked awful. I was on station monitoring the signal when…” she trailed off.
“When I died.”
She nodded. “The suit activated the MedPatch automatically, but still. Well, it scared me…us,” she corrected. “Your mission sounded...” she struggled to find an appropriate word, “…bad.”
“But now I am apparently trading in the cold and ice for the sunny Caribbean. Doris said you guys had been working on the sample from the Saraph. Anything you can tell me?”
“Hey, you bum, don’t I get a hug?” Riley all but ran up to Cade, embracing him more forcefully than Jaz had.
“Wow, greetings like this may cause me to stay gone more.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Riley said. “You have to nearly die to get this level of love. We need to show him what we’ve learned so far, Jaz. Apparently, the director is also looking for you.”
“Oh, boy.” He’d come down to mainly say hi, but if they had info on the beast, he was anxious to hear that as well. Doris was getting ready to run the ReLoad process on the girl, and he wanted to be present for that.
“Okay, first off, why does this creature seem familiar to me? I felt that from the moment Alan showed me the painting. Something about it just seems...I don't know, like something I've seen before.”
Riley answered him, “It’s highly unusual. As I mentioned, the bio-chemistry is unlike any other creature on Earth. So far, of course, we don’t have a physical sample. All we have is the scans that Micah’s drones took and the rather basic tissue analysis after it attacked one of his drones.”
“But you have an image or video of it, right? Does it look like this?” Cade flicked the image from the painting up to the wall display.
They had all already seen images of the cave paintings and drawn similar conclusions. “It’s very similar,” Doris said. “The thing hit the boat with an EM blast, it fried a lot of the data and equipment, as well as most of the recordings.” The feed to Doris had shown one good sonar image, though. It had been captured by piecing together various images from the drones’ array. That image joined Cade’s on the wall, and they did indeed seem like a match. While the one in the Caribbean was just a collection of lighted dots that outlined the shape of the animal, adding the claws and flesh and teeth from the old painting gave it an entirely new level of intensity. “Please, God, tell me our people are not in the water with one of those,” Jaz said.
“Alan’s scans show the timeline on those paintings were ancient. Not just old, I mean truly freakin’ ancient,” Riley said.
“Doris seems to think the cave paintings were very old, like eons. I’m assuming it would be impossible for any species to be alive from that long ago?” Cade asked.
Riley answered, “Yes, based on the probable timeline she and Jimmy are focusing on, in all practical terms, yes. Jimmy seems convinced it is billions of years old, not just millions. Up until now, we wouldn’t have even thought the planet could support life at that stage, but I think we’re assuming that this creature was likely brought here from somewhere else… another planet, maybe. If so, as a species, it would have had to first survive with no food to eat. Complex life had just started to evolve at that point, and from what we can see, it can’t digest or metabolize our planet’s plants, or animals. Beyond that, the creatures would have had to survive numerous mass die-offs, multiple ice ages, periods where the ocean waters turned acidic, and, of course, volcanic traps poisoning the atmosphere, as well as occasional asteroid impacts. We can’t even find fossil records of bacteria going back that far. For one reason, the geology changes. The land itself isn’t even here to study from back that far. Cyanobacteria is generally considered the most ancient organism still in existence, and it has only been here about 300 million years.”
“So, this thing can’t exist, not naturally, at least,” Cade said.
“If we can get an actual DNA sample, we’ll know more, but I think the definitive answer to that is no, it couldn’t be natural,” Riley said.
“Something about it still seems familiar, you know?”
“Doris said your prisoner reacted to it like she had seen it,” Jaz said. “Maybe that was it.”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Something else.”
“Several times you referred to the animal as a sea monster. More than once you also used the term Cthulhian, ” Doris said from a ceiling speaker.
“Yeah, I did,” Cade said. “I know that word, but I’m not sure how. It just seemed to fit. Figured Ace knew what it was, and it might make me sound smarter.” He winked at the others conspiratorially. “Well, I mean, that's the closest thing I could think of. WaterDragonVelociSquid might cover it, too. What does Cthulhu even mean?”
Riley walked over and pulled a large book off a shelf by her desk. It was old, and a yellowed picture on the front cover showed an artist's rendition of a horrible monster. It was vaguely similar to what they were hunting. “The Call of the Cthulhu,” Cade said, holding it quizzically.
“Cthulhu is one of the ‘Great Old Ones’ and is the product of a science fiction writer from the 1930s,” said Doris. “A man by the name of H. P. Lovecraft, a somewhat controversial figure. But he described numerous horrific and downright strange monsters in his stories. The Cthulhu was a cosmic entity that was sometimes described as an octopus dragon. It seems to share at least a few of the other traits which closely resemble our Saraph. The writing and some of his creatures are now considered legendary. He’s considered a visionary, although he died pretty much penniless.”
Riley took the book back almost reverently. “He was one of my favorite authors as a kid. Even though the stories were really old, they hold up well and are still deeply disturbing. One of his others is a short story called “At the Mountains of Madness” about a polar odyssey and its strange discoveries.”
“Wait,” Cade said, looking confused. “So, was this Lovecraft, I mean, did he visit Antarctic?
Doris pointed out, “As far as we know, he never traveled anywhere near that part of the world. Although he, like many of that era, was fascinated by the continent. They considered it one of the last unexplored regions of the planet. I think we could say he had a lifelong interest in
Antarctic exploration.”
“But he couldn’t have known anything about the vault on the mountain or the actual creature…the Saraph. So, how would he have any idea of this, or are his stories some sort of vision, or just a coincidence?”
Riley answered, “That we don't know, Cade. Perhaps he was just being intuitive, you know, had a great imagination. Maybe he talked to someone who was an actual explorer who showed him something. If we're talking about artifacts that have been around for eons, who's to say how these could have come to his attention? Not just into legend and myth, but actual memories, perhaps even images and artifacts. We're pretty sure the Nazis made some moves into Antarctica years later. Although the evidence suggests that they stayed around the coast, there's nothing that says they didn’t travel deeper into the same area where your mountain was. Also keep in mind, whoever did this in Antarctica didn’t necessarily just stay there. Artifacts could exist around the world. That unique piece of ground just happened to survive in relatively good condition.
“So, the fact that somebody could have gotten there as far back as the 1920s or 30s and passed it along to Mister Lovecraft is not completely outside the realm of possibility. While no one would have believed him if he wrote it as a scientific paper, weaving it into his fiction as an epic monster may have been what he decided to do. A seed of truth that we are just coming to grips with.”
“So, it doesn’t take us anywhere. The information about Cthulhu doesn’t let us know how to fight it..how to kill it.” Cade said.
“I will keep researching,” Doris answered. “Most likely, no. Lovecraft described the Cthulhu as an Elder God. Even if you could wind up killing it, it would simply come back.”
“He might have been onto something there, Doris. Apparently, the bastard is still out there after two-billion years,” Cade said, only half jokingly.
“Riley and Jaz, please continue with the briefing. Cade, can you join me once you and the director are done? I have let her know you will be heading to her next,” Doris said.
55
Caribbean
In his mind, the past, present, and future all seemed to be colliding with equal intensity. At some level, Micah knew none of this was real, but it all felt so genuine. Maybe it was a dream. With Doris’s help, he’d managed to learn how to use his dream state to focus his mind. Now, most of his sleep was dominated by lucid dreams, but nothing like this.
You’re unconscious, you may be injured, you need to wake-up. Micah’s mind let go of those thoughts as quickly as they had arrived. He felt no pain, in fact, just the opposite. There was a sensation of blissful acceptance. Still, his rational mind kept trying to reattach itself to the physical world. Like the fingers of a shadow attempting to grasp something real and hang on. How did I get here? What’s the last thing I remember?
Running down a corridor filled with a hazy blue light…no, that wasn’t right. That was simply part of the dreamworld. Had he been running toward something or away? It didn’t matter, that was not how he’d gotten here. Still, his mind could release the images. He knew on some level that the mind interprets dreams exactly the same as real life. In fact, his mind was sending signals to his legs to run and to his arms to pump harder, to get away. The scientific, rational part of him knew these signals to his nerves would be blocked by a region of the brain just above the spinal column. Otherwise, you might throw yourself out a window when you were dreaming that you had wings and could fly.
Several times, Micah had heard distant sounds, maybe even voices. Some seemed more familiar than others, but he couldn’t be bothered by it now. His curious mind needed to solve this. If only he could get his mind to focus, he knew it could unravel the riddle. Like an old album skipping on a record player, his brain seemed to jump erratically between wildly differing scenes and images with no apparent continuity. While his rational mind would reject the idea, he could be falling from a high cliff, only to land at the dinner table eating with his mom. His dream state accepted the flow as seemingly perfect continuity.
Something had happened, something bad. That’s why I’m here. Maybe I’m in a coma or something, Micah thought. The thought briefly caused him panic, but that, too, was smoothed away by his altered state. Deeper in his mind, something began to solidify from the ether. It was more tangible, more real. He forced himself to focus on the thought—to hold it, let it grow, and reveal its secrets.
The pulsing light. That was how he’d gotten here. Only…only the light was not something he saw. It was something he felt, but that made no sense. How could you feel light? You can feel sunlight, another part of him challenged. You feel the heat, your skin feels the UV rays, but you don’t feel the light. He was getting distracted again. There was much here, too much. What could he learn before he left?
The process of separating out the tangible from the clutter was an ordeal, but the seed he was holding helped him focus. Micah knew it had to be part of the ReLoad program. Just as quickly, he found himself asking what ReLoad was…then, who is Doris? Did anyone even mention a Doris? “Still your mind and seek not the answers. Instead seek the questions.” The words echoed around his brain from somewhere unknown.
The noise was back along with the accompanying flashes of light. Micah’s grasp on the seed, the tiny kernel of reality, was slipping farther away, but he held tightly to something…a thread, perhaps. Something that linked him to the tangible…to the real world. The questions were down here in the miasma of his fugue state. Looking into the glowing cloud that was now surrounding him, he saw shapes that resolved themselves slowly into symbols. What are these? They didn’t resemble anything he’d ever seen, and somehow, he knew he’d studied nearly every recorded symbol humans had ever made. These were…almost familiar, but totally alien.
‘Alien,’ yes, that seemed like the right word. The thread in his hands seemed to thicken slightly. His mind shifted, and he was somewhere else, the sound of water running. No, more like waves crashing. He missed something. He needed to get back to the symbols. Aliens—an alien message. Radar dish…no, that was right, but it was wrong. Not the right alien. What in the hell does that mean?
Maybe he was already dead, and this was heaven or hell…maybe purgatory. They believed in purgatory, didn’t they? Micah’s mom had been Catholic once, but that was before. That had been before they ran…before, when his friends had called him Michael. The thread he was holding had thinned again. Reality was slipping away, or maybe that was the dream. His mind had no control over either, nor where he went. Or did it?
Dreams were a function of the subconscious. Generally, people’s conscious and subconscious have no way of communicating, but Doris had made some progress. Doris and Rearden. There was that name again. Who is Doris? He had no idea. Someone was talking, maybe calling his name. Still your mind, focus…focus!
Symbols appeared out of the gauzy mist with increasing clarity and frequency. These were a language, an alien language. The wispy tendril of reality increased just a bit. Intertwined with the tendril were other shapes, frightening, writhing tentacles that disturbed the mist, only to fade again. Micah didn’t want to be here.
His mind rejected the danger, the horror, and suddenly, he was a child of five, maybe six. The lady sat across from him and his mom. She was saying something about his dad. His dad was dead, he wasn’t coming home again. That was what his mom had said. He didn’t know what dead was…not really, but he didn’t like it. He and his dad were supposed to go see a baseball game this weekend. He’d promised. His beloved Giants were playing the Cardinals. He pulled his ball cap down low, feeling the anger inside him like a raw open wound. His dad had let him down. The woman, Margaret, was saying something about Cryptus. He knew that name, it was on the badge his dad wore for work. The one with his picture on it. When was his dad going to be home, and why did he keep hearing running water?
The message, the alien.
The record skipped again.
56
The Cove
“Cade
, there's something else,” Doris said. “An image Jimmy just recovered.” He had just walked into Lab-4 after a short, uncomfortable meeting with the director and Nancy Turner, Micah’s mom. She was distraught over her missing son, obviously, and recovering him was the top mission on their minds. Cade didn’t disagree, but it was all part of a bigger puzzle. One they were taking substantial lengths to decipher, including what they were about to do.
Joe Smith, or Alias, and another newer member of the team named Shapiro, stood guard just outside the door. The prisoner was inside an enclosed booth they used for more in-depth ReLoad sessions. She was sitting up in a chair, restraints on, but she was clean, new clothes, hair brushed, and appeared to even have a bit of makeup. They had treated her well, which had been at Cade’s orders.
Cade sat down, nodding to her. He knew she could see him, but she couldn’t hear anything unless he activated the microphone. Glancing at the 4D screen, an image began to materialize.
“What am I looking at, Doris?”
“We had one of our satellites overhead with an oblique view of the boat that WarHawk team was using when they disappeared.” There was obviously major damage to the once impressive vessel. The view was not from directly above. Judging from the shadows, it was high off to one side, obviously from hundreds of miles up. Still, thanks to the impressive optics onboard The Cove’s minisats, the crystal-clear image left little doubt of the chaos and carnage that had obviously occurred onboard.
There were holes through the decking of the boat in numerous places. Part of one gunnel was ripped apart, the fiberglass shreds waving in the wind. The boat had a pronounced list, and through a crack in the stern, water seemed to be filling the aft section. But worst was, everywhere he looked, there was dark blood, gore, pieces of meat, and other things that were just completely unidentifiable. “When was this shot taken?”