by J E Feldman
Douglas was visibly flustered. “Aw, man, I feel even worse now,” he whined.
“Good,” Cordelia huffed. “Regardless, we made it back, and I guess,” she trailed off for a few seconds. “You kids aren’t so bad afterall.”
Douglas’ face lit back up at her words. He went in to hug her and she promptly blocked his head with the palm of her hand, quickly stepping back. Upon realizing his friendly advance was unwelcome, he gave her a puzzled expression while she shook off the glove that touched him.
“No, no, no. I don’t like being touched, either. Look, I don’t even like kids, so the fact I’m admitting you three aren’t so bad, is like, a huge compliment from me,” Cordelia explained.
“Oh,” Douglas stared at her. “Sorry.”
“I know. I’m weird,” Cordelia exhaled heavily and looked away.
“That’s okay. You’re still the coolest dragon-lady I know. In fact, the only dragon-lady I know, but still super cool,” Douglas smiled.
A faint smile finally tugged at the corners of Cordelia’s lips once more. “Thanks.”
Douglas nodded to her and turned around to catch up with Michael. Michael waved to her from atop the stairs of the dock and Cordelia returned the gesture. It was time for her to go home. It had been an incredibly busy night.
Galina Trefil
Biography
Galina Trefil, author of The Incomplete Ones: A Tale of Slavery and A Cape for Kali, is a novelist specializing in women's minority and disabled rights. Her work has appeared in Neurology Now, UnBound Emagazine, The Guardian, Tikkun, Romea.CZ, Jewcy, Jewrotica, Telegram Magazine, Ink Drift Magazine, The Dissident Voice, Open Road Review, and the anthologies Flock: The Journey and Suspense Unimagined.
Docile
Galina Trefil
To find the S.S. Sylvia Earle lingering above the Mariana Trench was certainly no shock, but Dr. Prof. Lowensohn had repeatedly, and with great irritation, noted to herself that the secrecy with which the small research vessel had elected to bring her onboard seemed somewhat unusual. Dr. Simon Akimitsu — the author of a half dozen books, a professor out of NYU, and, well-acknowledged world class genius since his teen years — had called her up at the crack of the California dawn.
“How would you like to win a Nobel Prize?” his unfamiliar voice inquired, clearing the still half-asleep fog from her brain.
Two days later, here she was, sitting in a helicopter on the deck of a ship she was not allowed to board without signing a non-disclosure agreement. “It’s only a formality,” a lawyer sent by Dr. Akimitsu urged as she hesitated, twirling the pen slightly between her slender fingers. “Every scientist on the planet would be thrilled to be part of this project. You’re very lucky you were chosen.”
“Lucky? I doubt that,” she sighed, affixing her name finally. “I specialize in deep sea cephalopods and we’re perched above the deepest point of the entire ocean. It isn’t exactly rocket science to figure out why Dr. Akimitsu called me.” She looked up from the paperwork hopefully. “A specimen floated to the surface, yes? I’m guessing it was a particularly large one. It’s going to be autopsied and so a team of experts was assembled, right?”
The lawyer took the paperwork away from her, gave her signature a brief once over, and then allowed the corners of his mouth to curve upwards. “It’s not a cephalopod, professor. It’s something….” His eyes trailed off for a moment. “Something else.”
As he opened the helicopter door, her eyebrows knit slightly at his still-enduring crypticness and broadening grin. Then she swallowed and jumped down onto the ship, pulling a purse and suitcase along with her.
Moving away as the propellers started up, she observed a fit man in his early thirties wearing jeans and a t-shirt rapidly strolling towards her with a smile. Through the dark brown hair that whipped around her face as the machine ascended, she instantly recognized and put her hand out to greet the fellow scientist that had brought her here.
“Professor Lowensohn,” he began as soon as the whirly bird’s squawking no longer overpowered their hearing, “you made it! We are so pleased to have you join us.”
“I appreciate the invitation.”
“Do you prefer to be addressed as doctor?”
“Just call me Laura, please,” she replied, smoothing her now-crazy coiffure down with one hand as he firmly shook her other.
“Laura,” he grinned, “I’ve been following your work for quite a while. You really make the animals you write about so...easy to relate to, like dogs or cats. I used to love to eat calamari, but after reading your articles, no more.”
“How lovely.”
“And I read your book too,” he beamed. “Absolutely loved it.”
“Ah, well, me too--your books, I mean.”
Mutual academic respects formally paid, he reached over to relieve her of her luggage. “Come on. I’ll show you to your cabin.”
“Thanks,” she nodded. “I’ve never worked on the Sylvia Earle before. I’ve heard it’s a lot like the Keldysh.”
“It is, just on a smaller scale--about a third smaller, both in terms of crew size and in terms of general space. And the Earle hasn’t showed up in any James Cameron movies, not yet anyway. But don’t let that cloud your judgment. We’ve made several dives into the Trench from the Earle’s submersibles.”
“Is there a dive being planned for Challenger Deep?” Laura queried.
His elation faded slightly. Challenger Deep, at seven miles down, was the deepest part of the Mariana Trench; the deepest part of the entire ocean. To make the trek was potentially one’s death, but it was nonetheless the end goal of marine explorers throughout the world. “No, nothing quite that impressive yet for us, sadly,” he sighed. “But give us time. The sea is the last earthly frontier. It’s only a matter of time before its conquest is complete...and commonplace.”
“Mmmm,” she nodded, looking him over for a moment. Given his resume, he didn’t at all resemble what she had expected. He had such a causal, approachable vibe. If his photograph wasn’t on the back of his books, she would’ve walked right by him, figuring him for one of the crew members.
“Did you have an okay flight?”
“It was fine,” she shrugged. “Certainly not how I was expecting to spend my weekend.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Well, believe me, you might want to spend a lot more than just a weekend here. When you see what we have—”
“What exactly do you have? I just assumed I was brought here because of a giant squid, but I’ve been informed to the contrary.”
“I know. I know,” he nodded, beginning to descend a staircase inside the ship. “That phone call from out of nowhere must’ve left you thinking we have nothing short of a kraken here to show you. If it’s any consolation, I doubt strongly that you will be too terribly disappointed. The animals we have aren’t cephalopods, granted, but they do share certain physical traits with them—”
“And that’s why you called me?”
He stopped, paused, and then looked back at her with an almost boyish exhilaration. “You are familiar with the discovery of the coelacanth?”
“Of course. It was thought to be extinct since the Cretaceous period and then, lo and behold, it was discovered still alive and well in 1938.”
“Well, last week, we uncovered a new species.”
“Another previously-believed-extinct fish?”
“Yes...and no. We’re not exactly sure what to classify it as yet.”
“But it’s from the Trench?”
“Yes.”
“Was it found on the surface or via submersibles?”
“Submersibles.”
“How far down was it?”
The slightest hint of a shadow fell on his face now. “Unfortunately, that’s classified information.”
“Classified?”
“I’m sorry, but there are certain aspects about how it was found that I really am not at liberty to discuss. It’s one of those situations where you’ll just have to ev
aluate the animal from your own observation.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m here to give an expert opinion as a marine biologist. How can I do that without knowing the depth the specimen was filmed at?”
“Well, that’s the thing,” he replied. “It wasn’t filmed. In fact, the submersible didn’t even know what they had until they were topside again. They knew something had latched onto them, but it was out of the line of their camera lenses to see exactly what. But it wasn’t heavy enough to pull them down, so they just proceeded with their ascent as usual. They thought whatever it was would let go...but that didn’t happen.”
“So you’re telling me you have the cadaver?”
“No,” he shook his head. He waited, hesitant to deliver the next few words simply because she might laugh at him. “See...it’s not a cadaver.”
It took her a moment to take his meaning, but then she slumped away from him against the corridor wall. “Deep sea life cannot surface and survive, doctor,” she scoffed. “They are specifically adapted to thousands of pounds of pressure. If they try to leave that environment, the lack of pressure on them causes havoc on their systems and they literally explode.”
“I know. There’s no explanation for it...and yet...here we both are,” he shrugged. “We’ve had the animals for almost three weeks now.”
“Three weeks!”
“We’ve built tanks for them, trying to keep them at least at a temperature copacetic to their evolutionary needs. They can’t possibly make it for much longer though and we need your feedback for as long as they manage to hold on.”
“They? Exactly how many of them are there?”
“Two—both female...at least, we think.”
As a nervous tick, Laura rubbed at the back of her neck. “Forgive me, Dr. Akimitsu. I know you wouldn’t have flown me out here unless you were sure of what you were saying...but what you’re saying is simply not physically possible. I’m a bit...flabbergasted.”
He nodded. “Yeah, well, everyone here is. That’s why we all keep comparing them to the coelacanth. In the face of the inexplicable, we’re trying to humbly remind ourselves that we know far less about the ocean and its creatures, particularly those from the deep sea, than we would like to admit. It flies in the face of logic...but who are we to say what this animal can do? The Mariana Trench is such a harsh environment—not just the pressure, but the terrible cold…. Just to survive there, it has adapted to incredible conditions.”
Laura bit her lip, still disbelieving. “But,” she argued, “is it not possible that...that the submersible made a mistake? Perhaps these are not deep sea creatures at all, but hitched a ride, as it were, much closer to the surface?”
“Absolutely not.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m sorry, but that too is classified. Look,” he assured her, “believe me, when you see them for yourself, you won’t even care how deep they were living at. That’s going to be the least shocking fact going through your head.”
Laura folded her arms over her chest, somewhat disturbed by this entire thing and wondering in the back of her head if the other scientists had set her up for a candid camera prank.
“There’s a lot of people you could’ve called,” she at last put forward, forcing herself to move on. “So why me? I’ve never been involved in studying the Trench before. If it’s not a cephalopod that you’ve got, I just...I don’t see why you involved me.”
“The ladies, as we’ve termed them on board, have features from several different animals. I called in a few experts to look them over and observe their behavior.”
She cocked her head to the side. “They latched onto the submersible in unison….”
“And they didn’t let go even after it was being pulled out of the water,” he nodded. “I was there. I saw. And it was almost like, however briefly, if they actually wanted to surface.”
“Briefly?”
“There was a scuffle, of course, when we had to subdue them.”
“How big of a scuffle?”
His eyes trailed off for a moment and then he beckoned her after him. “Come on. Once you get settled, I’ll show you around and introduce you to the other people.”
“After throwing all this at me?” She guffawed, following him deeper inside the ship. “You’ve got to be kidding. At this point, I’m fine with just catapulting the suitcase in my room and going right to the, eh hem, ladies.”
“I figured as much.”
Laura’s assigned space was cramped and, just at a glance, she knew the thin mattress on the metal bunk bed was going to leave her back sore. But by the time they arrived there, her heartbeat had quickened with such anticipation that she didn’t even care.
As they continued towards the creatures’ makeshift housing, stories of heightened marine intelligence danced through her mind. Why had these animals attached themselves to the submersible? Was it the innocent curiosity, rather than stereotypical malice, so often found in Great White sharks when their jaws clamped down? Or had they been trying to defend their territory against what they had perceived as a dangerous predator? Either way, the fact they weren’t rogue, but were working together, was impressive. Perhaps these animals would be on par with dolphins, which were known for rescuing other animals from threats, or maybe even with octopuses, whose nine brains enabled them to solve mazes and even sabotage the aquariums which humans confined them in. Laura shuddered at that last thought. She did indeed hope these animals would be smart—but only to a point.
As they stopped in front of the door to the lab, Dr. Akimitsu turned to her, his face once again full of excitement. “You must realize before you go in...there’s going to be extensive research here. Definitely a book.”
“Written by you?”
“Written by everyone that’s seen these creatures so far. Mine will be a solo venture, though some of the other guys are planning on co-writing. Sincerely, I don’t mind if you want to join them or, like me, branch off on your own. Just remember we’re here to help each other, but not compete. We’re a team.”
“I understand.”
“You see, these animals...well...it’s not just about discovering a new species. Our hope, our beliefs, is that, in them, there lies the potential for human medical progress.”
“Progress in what way?”
“At this point, the potential seems unlimited. The ladies have already demonstrated regenerative properties...and not like a lizard either, whose second tail grows back less than perfect. When these animals lose something, it returns so rapidly and flawlessly...you’d never know it was gone at all.”
She nodded, frowning.
Their eyes locked for a moment and then, slowly, he turned the doorknob.
The lab was almost pitch black. “Pardon the darkness,” he informed her as he stepped inside. After donning some himself, he handed her some night vision headgear. “Coming from the Trench, the ladies aren’t built for enduring our light bulbs. We brought in black lights, but even that was too much for them. They quickly became aggressive.”
“Aggressive how?”
“Are you having trouble turning those on?” He inquired evasively. “Here, let me help you.”
He flipped a switch on her gear and she blinked at the green tint that appeared before her eyes. As she adjusted to the change, the room seemed to glow like a film noir kingdom of Oz. Glancing around, she soon saw the lighting trick was not the only unorthodox brightness present.
Two large, bolted shut aquariums gleamed from across the room. Inside each was a pod-like lump, several feet across. Laura’s lips parted in amazement. Deep sea creatures were prone to gigantism, but she had not anticipated the animals would be quite so large.
“Their skin is bioluminescent,” she observed softly, marveled by their ethereal beauty.
“Their glow is generally much stronger than this,” he acknowledged beside her. “The more frequently one comes into the lab, the more intensely they shine. It’s as if they are getting to know
us. But, with newcomers, they’re shy.”
“What color are they?”
“Step closer and find out.”
She approached the glass, gazing intently at one of the zoological treasures inside. Despite its position, she soon realized it was not truly round. Instead, like a stingray, it had broad flaps of flesh coming from two directions cocooned around its body protectively. From beneath this emerged the thick hint of what promised to be an expansive, eel-like tail.
“It rather resembles a mammoth-sized Atlantic wolffish,” she remarked. “From the bottom, at least.”
Ever so slightly, the cocoon parted. A pitch-black membrane inside, certainly part of an eye, peered out at Laura cautiously. The creature’s gaze moving over her sent a flutter through Laura’s stomach—and not one she found entirely pleasant either. Within mere seconds, the milky-looking skin before her began to alter. The center of the flaps darkened—first appearing as two thick stripes. And then the stripes appeared as...arms?
“What the….” she gasped.
“You’re used to seeing octopuses change their skin tone and texture to mimic their surroundings,” Simon grinned. “This takes that to the next level though.”
Gawking, Laura watched the coloration of the flesh on the flaps continue its transformation, imitating not only her human form, but the clothes that covered it.
“Jesus,” she gasped. “The rest of the skin is thick, but it’s so translucent that it almost looks like—”
“Like there’s a real human being in there,” he finished for her. “Exactly.”
Laura stepped even closer toward the glass; closer toward that fleck of eye…. Suddenly, like an explosion, the two flaps flung apart and the face inside pressed against its flat, clear enclosure. All around its distinctly un-fishlike, quite round head, a mass of hair floated, resembling not only Laura’s color, but also the craziness which the helicopter’s takeoff had condemned her to.