Sea Creature

by Victor Methos

  “Gracias,” he said as he hung up. “I think I will not be needing that favor.”

  “Why?”

  “The squid. Some fisherman have caught it.”

  * * *

  42

  People were swarming on the stretch of beach in front of the upscale Ocean Pearl Resort in Viña. Camera crews were there from several stations and many of the locals were crowding in to see the catch, held back only by a handful of police and a few barricades.

  Ignacio pulled his car to a stop in the parking lot of the resort, Patrick behind him. They got out and Patrick had to hold himself back from breaking into a run. He followed Ignacio who walked casually through the crowd and nodded hello to one of the police officers as he went past him. He turned and pointed to Patrick and said something and the officer let him through as well.

  The stink was the first thing Patrick noticed. Even before he could see anything and at least fifty feet from the water, the smell of rotting flesh filled the air. It smelled like putrid fish and feces and though it made Patrick nearly gag, Ignacio seemed not to notice.

  They got past the reporters and the officers standing around watching, and saw the animal laying on the sand.

  Its tentacles seemed to stretch from one end of the beach to the other. Its suckers were the size of golf balls and Patrick could see the sharp hooks inside them, glistening in the sunlight.

  Mitch was near the posterior surface of the animal taking samples.

  “Who caught this?” Ignacio said.

  Several men began shouting and yelling and laughing and telling the story of how they had conquered the monster. They had used the carcass of a goat and several buckets of cow blood and had lured the monster to the surface. Then they’d blown part of its brain away with dynamite, dragging it behind the boat back to the beach.

  Patrick could see the large gash near the monster’s eye where the explosion had caught it. He looked into the eye and it was staring back at him, glossy and black.

  Patrick heard Ignacio swear under his breath.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I did not want it dead.”

  Ignacio walked over to the cameras and began speaking about the wonderful job the fisherman had done and what a service it was to their city. Mitch handed a few jars of flesh scrapings he’d taken to an assistant and walked over to Patrick, pulling off the latex gloves from his hands and throwing them over the carcass.

  “Guess that takes care of our little trip,” Patrick said.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Why?”

  “This is a giant squid all right, one of the biggest ever recorded. But it’s not the one we’re looking for.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Look at the clubs; the ends of its tentacles. See those toothed suckers? Those teeth aren’t chipped or cracked and they’ve hardly a scratch on ‘em. They’re brand spanking new. And the body doesn’t have any scarring or evidence that this squid has ever gone up against a shark or a whale. This here’s a baby.”

  “A baby?”

  “Yeah, it’s a baby. No more than four or five months I would think. Which means mama is still out there. And she’s got to have one helluva appetite.”

  * * *

  43

  The pod drifted lazily near the surface, the warmth of the sun on their backs. At nearly seventy feet and 125,000 pounds, they had almost no natural predators with the exception of man. Their spermaceti—the substance covering their outer dermis and giving them the name “sperm” whale—is used to make candles and soaps and cosmetics. Hunted nearly to extinction, the sperm whale was no longer a common sight and they chose to swim in the open sea rather than closer to shore.

  But the warming oceans had been killing off life slowly and food was more and more scarce. The warmth was something they had never experienced and did not understand. They had a set pattern of location during certain months and it seemed as if the seasons no longer made sense. Now, they had no choice but to come in close to shore and risk an encounter with the massive whaling vessels that awaited them.

  The pod consisted of one gigantic bull, four cows and two calves. The calves swam in the center of the pod for safety, its colossal relatives surrounding it from attack by the only oceanic predators that could attack and kill a calf sperm whale: orcas.

  A pod of orcas had recently attacked the whales. Two of the orcas had rushed up from underneath to bite into the soft belly of one of the calves but the bull had spotted them in time. It smashed its gargantuan tail into the snout of one of the orcas, crushing its skull, and the rest of the orcas had fled to find easier prey.

  But there was something else in the water now.

  Using echolocation, the bull had sensed it long ago. It lurked underneath them almost half a mile in the darkness where the sun couldn’t reach. And it had been following them since the morning.

  There was no creature that imposed fear on the bull and it felt none now; just an odd curiosity. The pod had not eaten for two days and it was time for a dive. They began their slow descent, the bull at the head, into the unknown of the deep sea.

  They made various clicks and wails and groans in their downward plunge, attempting to track prey. With foot-long conical teeth, they ate everything that moved.

  The bull picked up movement ahead. Whatever had been in the depths was now coming up to meet them. Nervous groans escaped from the cows but the calves were clicking in excitement, still young to life and unaware of the dangers that it could hold.

  The pod moved in unison and their clicks were coming back more quickly; too quickly. Whatever was underneath them was shooting to the surface at an impossibly reckless speed.

  The bull raced ahead, wanting to meet any challengers head on. It let out a deep, bassed groan, something akin to a war cry, and sped away from the pod into the darkness. The pod saw his tail beating away the waters and its girth began to slowly disappear.

  They followed him with clicks and groans, but then the clicks and groans stopped. They were getting no response from below.

  One of the cows stopped the dive, fear tingling its belly, and turned upward toward the surface. The rest of the cows followed suit, nudging the calves along. But one calf broke away. It began to race downward, following the bull.

  Its mother called for him with high-pitched squeals but the calf didn’t stop and only picked up its pace. The mother began after it.

  The calf saw the light dimming but it rarely needed light. They hunted in the darkness more than the light and using its clicks it could detect exactly where everything was; the sounds painting an image as clear as a photo in its mind of its surroundings.

  The mother was nearly to him now and the calf sped up. It would follow the bull. As a male, the calf emulated the bull and felt a connection with it that it lacked with the cows. It would find the bull and help it to defeat any challengers.

  There was suddenly as scent in the water. The calf didn’t recognize it at first but the mother knew right away what it was: blood.

  Warm blood was pouring forth from the bottom of the ocean as if there were a volcano bleeding on the sea floor. The calf found it intriguing, the scent of blood tickling its belly and causing its digestive glands to begin the process of digestion though no food was available yet.

  The calf followed the blood down even farther until it sensed the motion of huge amounts of water being displaced. There was activity below and it used its clicks to identify it. It made out one massive body swimming in a circle. It slowed and tried to make sense of it but didn’t know what it was.

  As it drew closer, it could see the image of what had occurred in the blackness as clearly as day: the bull was dead.

  Its corpse was spinning in a downward spiral away from the surface. But there was something else there as well. Something bigger than the bull and it was connected with it somehow.

  Then it saw the writhing legs and tentacles that tore at the bull’s belly, organs and bones being ripped away with
cloudy bursts of blood.

  The calf watched the spectacle until its mother came to it. The cow came underneath and pushed it with its head, forcing it up to the surface. Eventually the calf turned on its own and began to rise.

  The calf came to a sudden halt and felt burning in its tail. It groaned as its mother pushed and its tail felt as if it were tearing away from its body.

  A tentacle had wrapped around the calf’s tail and was pulling it deeper into the darkness. The cow, frantic, pushed harder and the tender flesh of the calf began to rip and bleed as it screamed a high-pitched panicked call.

  The calf was being dragged down. It was writhing, pulling its body from side-to-side, trying to beat its tail or twist or any other motion it could make.

  The cow followed the calf down farther still and held it up with her head. In one powerful motion it struck the calf just over the tail and its flesh ripped away from the tentacle in a chunk. It began to pound its tail furiously and mother and calf rushed to the surface.

  They rejoined the pod and began to swim farther from shore, moaning for the loss of their protector.

  Below in the darkness, the great beast listened until the thumping of the sperm whales faded into the distance, and then it began to feed.

  * * *

  44

  Mitch Roberts walked in to Hamilton’s suite and saw him bite into a rare steak and greasy blood dripped down his lips. He wiped it with his hand and held his empty wine glass up. Stewart stepped behind him and filled it from a bottle on the table.

  A small tremor of fear went through Mitch’s belly, as it did every time he saw him.

  Mitch had dealt with men like him before when he worked for a private security company after his time in the Royal Australian Navy. They would lease security personnel for adventures they had dreamed of going on their entire lives but were too busy to bother with. Then, in their golden years, knowing death was close, they would fulfill every fantasy they ever had. This, Mitch knew, is when they were the most dangerous.

  “Sit down, Mr. Roberts.”

  Mitch sat and watched the pink grease ooze from the old man’s mouth and it made him sick. He looked out over the beach instead.

  “So what did you learn about the fishermen’s catch?”

  “It’s not our squid. It’s a giant squid, don’t get me wrong. But it’s not the one we’re looking for.”

  “Did you find a decent amount of loligo beta in it?”

  “I took a quick look but didn’t see much. It was a juvenile and loligo’s the mating protein, so I wouldn’t expect to find much anyway.”

  “It’s still out there then?”

  “I would think so. It’s being driven toward shore from a lack of sufficient food so there’s no reason to think there’s suddenly sufficient food farther out. But it might start going north for greener pastures soon. Can I ask you something though? What if we get it and there’s not enough loligo in it?”

  “You’ll still be paid either way if that’s what you’re concerned with. But I understand the risks, Mr. Roberts. I have been confined to this wheelchair for twenty-five years. I would rather have never walked at all so at least I wouldn’t know what I was missing. But I think about it every day.

  “They tell you when you are in therapy that you must come to terms with your disability if you are to live with it. I myself was never able to. I have been searching for a cure to Huntington’s disease ever since I began having balance problems in my twenties. This, this beautiful monster, this is the closest I’ve ever come. You are a biologist. You of all people have to appreciate the use of one species to cure a disease in the dominant species.”

  “The preliminary tests with loligo were inconclusive, Mr. Hamilton. It may not be anything.”

  “I will take a chance on inconclusive over certain paralysis and death any day.”

  “I just want you to understand this is no guarantee. When I wrote my paper about effects of loligo on the brain tissue of tamarins, I didn’t have an eye to go hunting giant squid. I thought we could replicate something similar down the road, maybe fifteen or twenty years from now.”

  “I don’t have twenty years, Mr. Roberts. I don’t have five years. This is my last opportunity at a cure and survival.”

  “Understood. Well, what now?”

  “Get the preparations in order. I want to sail as soon as possible.”

  Mitch stood up and began walking out of the suite. He glanced back once and saw Hamilton attempt to finish his wine but his hands were trembling so badly Stewart had to step in and help him.

  * * *

  45

  Christopher finished a day of shopping on Hamilton’s credit card and headed back to the hotel for a shower and change of clothing. His suite was next to Hamilton’s and he could sometimes hear Beethoven or Mozart coming from the old man’s bedroom.

  He undressed and got into the shower. It was white tiling with black and gold trim and clearly meant for more than one person. He enjoyed the space and let the hot water run over him a long time before he shaved and used fragranced body-wash to cleanse the sweat off of him.

  He dressed in an Armani suit, gray, with a white shirt and green tie. It felt good to be able to spend again without worrying about the consequences. Cameron Russell had given him a credit card as well and for many years checked the bills monthly. Toward the end of his employment though, he had given Christopher free reign.

  There was a knock at the door and Christopher opened it, revealing the full height of Stewart standing with his hands crossed over his stomach.

  “Mr. Hamilton would like to see you now.”

  Christopher used some cologne, put on the silver Rolex he had just bought, and headed over there.

  He found Hamilton on his balcony where he seemed to spend most of his time and walked over to him.

  “You wanted to see me?”

  “Yes, please sit down, Chris. Do you mind if I call you Chris?”

  “No.”

  He sat down and Stewart brought him a fizzy clear drink without being asked. He took a sip; it tasted like champagne but with a stronger alcohol kick.

  “Good drink?” Hamilton asked.

  “I like it. What is it?”

  “Hasn’t been given a name yet. It’s something I’ve developed. A type of champagne that can pass for a mixed drink. People without taste feel they need champagne, as if the drink adds class to them, but what they really desire is to get drunk. I give them both. That’s how I am so successful, Chris. I know that what is on the surface is not what is underneath. You have to cater to both if you are going to succeed.”

  “Can I ask you something, Mr. Hamilton, and have you promise to be honest with me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why do you want me here? You have Stewart. You can pluck a fresh Harvard MBA for an assistant. You don’t need me. Why am I here?”

  “You’re wrong about plucking an assistant. What I need they don’t teach in universities. In fact I’m not sure you can teach it.”

  “What is it?”

  “Loyalty, Chris. Loyalty. I need someone so loyal they are willing to abandon principle and even reason to ensure that I get what I want. That is what I need. I think you can be that person.

  “Cameron told me a lot about you. He’s a grouchy old fool and I’ve heard stories about how he treats his assistants. I knew I wouldn’t have much of a problem recruiting you.” He reached over and took a drink from Christopher’s glass. “Cameron told me about the prostitutes. The one in Singapore particularly impressed me. You were arrested and blamed for that and you kept your mouth shut. You were willing to go to prison for your benefactor. Now you tell me, where can I buy that kind of loyalty?”

  “He hired me to take care of him and that’s what I did.”

  “And he didn’t appreciate you. Since his wife died, Cameron has lost his civility and his gratitude. That is what makes us level-headed; our gratitude. He no longer has that for his wealth or his station in life. But
I do, Chris. If you work for me, I promise you, you will rewarded beyond your dreams. You will be a rich man.

  “Look at Stewart. He may not seem it, but he is a millionaire thanks to me. He owns two strip clubs, a gym and a restaurant. But he continues to change my diapers and give me my medicines. That’s loyalty, Chris. That’s what I’m looking for and that’s why you’re here. But let me ask you something: do you have that kind of loyalty for me? Can you just switch it off for Cameron and turn it on for me? If you can’t, I understand and there will be no hard feelings. But I need to know now; will you join with me?”

  Christopher saw the glint of the Rolex on his wrist as the sunlight reflected off of it. He twisted his wrist one way and then the other, feeling the weight of it against his skin.

  “You have me, Mr. Hamilton. I’m yours.”

  * * *

  46

  Ignacio sat in his office, lost in thought as jazz played on his desktop. He stood up and paced the room a while, twirling some meditation spheres in his hands. The soothing hum of the spheres vibrated his palms and made his fingers tingle.

  His chief of police entered the office and sat down on a couch. He crossed his legs and waited until Ignacio finished pacing before speaking.

  “This is not what I wanted, Hector.”

  “What did you want?”

  “I wanted to capture it. I wanted to put it on display and have something unique for our city that people from all over the world would come to see.”

  “Do you really want people from all over the world here?”

  Ignacio smirked. He had dealt with people like Hector all his life. They felt that Viña was their city, not meant for outsiders, even other Chileans. But that view is what had kept Viña an exclusive resort town that couldn’t seem to find its voice to take the next step.