by Steve Alten
And then, as the flashes flashed and the cameras whirled, the remains of John Cialino were removed from the ambulance on a gurney, and the lore of the Loch Ness Monster suddenly took on a whole new meaning.
The Inverness Courier would later pen the moment as the press conference of "the dead, a dead man walking, and the thrice dead man."
Theresa fainted and had to be carried into the hospital. Angus demanded to be released, threatening to sue the High Court. The judge ordered him to the cardiac unit and sent Johnny C.'s remains to the lab for a forensics evaluation.
It was a bizarre ending to a bizarre trial, one I would have enjoyed more had I not collapsed.
Rushed into the Emergency Room, I was placed on a ventilator and spent the next twenty-four hours in Intensive Care, suffering from carbon dioxide poisoning and a concussion.
* * *
I awoke with an all-too-familiar tube down my throat as Brandy entered my private room.
"Gosh, Zack, you look awful."
It was like bad déjà vu.
"Rar roo reaking rup rith ree?"
Brandy smacked me hard on top of my bandaged head.
"Oww."
"That's for tossin' me overboard, ye bastard. An' no, I'm no' breakin' up wi' ye, though I should, after all ye put me through."
"Rarry ree?"
"Marry ye? Is that how ye want tae ask me, wi' a bloody pipe shoved down yer throat? No, we'll wait "til ye get out o' here, then ye can buy me a nice ring, get down on yer knees, an' ask me properly."
Brandy talked, and I listened. The ambulance driver, James Fox, had released a statement explaining that he had diverted from taking Angus to the hospital only because "the old man convinced me his son was in serious trouble." Both Fox and Nurse Kasa swore that they had found me unconscious on the eastern banks of Loch Ness with Johnny C.'s remains.
For my part, I claimed a loss of memory as to where the Guivre's cave actually was.
Forensics confirmed John Cialino's identity and his cause of death. The High Court of the Justiciary wasted little time in reversing its jury's decision, and Angus was now a free man… and a local hero. There was even talk about the Council hiring him as their official "Ambassador of Tourism."
I imagined Angus, dressed in his kilt, eating haggis. "Come tae Loch Ness, where the haggis is aye fresh, an' oor fish bite back." That one brought a smile to my face.
A brush fire in the forest adjacent to Aldourie Castle had been traced to a broken pipeline owned by Cialino Oil. Scotland's EPA had shut down the leak, and a full investigation was under way.
Through tears of happiness, Brandy described how she and Alban had reconciled. She was staying with him at the lodge, and it was the first time she felt whole again since her childhood.
In truth, it was the first time I had felt whole again, too.
* * *
My father came by later the next day with copies of the Inverness Courier. His photo was featured on the front page, under the headlines: VINDICATED!
"So, how're ye feelin', Dragonslayer?"
"My ribs and hip are still sore, otherwise not bad considering."
"Any mair o' thee awfy night terrors?"
"None so far."
"Good, I'm glad for that, son. As ye can read, I'm a free man, an' I've you tae thank." He extended his hand, but I refused to shake it. "Whit's wrong?"
"Lying here in bed, I've been doing a lot of thinking."
"Tyin' up a few loose ends, eh?"
"You might say that. Calum Forrest, for instance. Guess you were pretty upset when your best-friend's wife drowned last December. I searched through old issues of the Inverness Courier on my laptop, but there weren't any details."
Angus shrugged. ""Twis a terrible thing."
"Interesting that there were so many similar so-called drownings last winter. You'd think Sheriff Holmstrom might have done a better job investigating them, but then how could he, being a Black Knight and all. Guess I can thank him for misplacing all my samples, huh?"
"An interestin' theory."
"I'm still a bit confused about the Black Knights' mission, but it's obvious, despite your blood oath, that you wanted the monster dead, and I don't think it had anything to do with Calum's wife. When we were in the cavern, you claimed the Guivre had tasted human blood again. By again, who were you referring to?"
Angus made eye contact, his expression quite serious. "Yer grandfaither."
I sat up in bed. "Your father, Logan? Then he didn't drown?"
"No. He wis a Black Knight, jist like his faither an' aulder brother, an' jist like me, and he died in that hellhole on September 25, 1934. My uncle Liam wis wi' him, an' so wis I. I wis jist a wee laddie, six years auld, yet I can remember whit happened as if it were yesterday."
"What were you doing down here?"
"Lowerin' the iron gate, as we did the start o' each autumn. The gate wis set in place by Sir Adam an' the first Order o' the Black Knights, who were intent on usin' the demons tae guard the Bruce's heart, their sacred keepsake. I imagine these Guivres were a lot like their smaller Anguilla cousins, aye leavin' Loch Ness for the open sea when it got cold. Tae keep the big ones roond an' scare off the English, the Knights wid lower the gate at the end o' the summer, then raise it again each spring."
"And you continued the mission until the tunnel collapsed?"
"Aye. Happened in the winter o"34, caused by the dynamitin' o' the A82, just as ye suspected… only my faither an' uncle didnae ken it at the time. Whilst I waited in the mooth o' the cave, they went on tae raise the gate, an act they'd done dozens o' times wi'oot incident, their bright lights aye keepin' the creatures at a safe distance. Only this time, a young an' feisty female wis waitin'."
"Nessie."
"Aye. She wis queen of the Loch even then, an' irritated as all hell by the blastin' goin' on along the western bank. As I watched, she snatched yer grandfaither in her terrible jowls an' tore him to pieces, feedin' upon his flesh.
"My uncle dragged me away, but I wis shocked an' scared an' went through a' that you went through when ye were bitten, the night terrors, the fear. There were nae heid doctors tae see back then, so I swallowed my anger an' swore revenge. But I'd a'ready taken the blood oath o' the Black Knights, an' Uncle Liam made me swear on my faither's soul that I'd no' forsake the Order. A Wallace aye keeps his word, an' I kept my word, even after the demon tasted ye seventeen years ago."
"And then Calum's wife was killed."
"She wisnae the first, but after she wis taken, I went tae Alban, demandin' we kill the creature. He refused, an' threatened tae kick me oot o' the Order if I ever went public."
"Which you did, during the trial."
"I had tae. No' for my ain sake, but because I kent things wid get worse. Somethin' wis wrong in Loch Ness, that wis obvious, we jist didnae ken whit it wis. An' once that monster tasted human flesh again, I kent it wid continue its attacks, jist like it had after it feasted upon my faither. Mysterious drownin's durin' winter an' its eighteen hours o' night are a lot easier tae keep fraem public scrutiny than attacks durin' oor tourist season."
"And Theresa?"
"She's a close friend, nothin' mair. Her an' Johnny were havin' problems. He got a bit violent wi' her earlier that day, an' she turned tae me for help. So I went tae see him at the construction site. We had words, an' ye ken the rest. "Course, I couldnae tell a' that in court, that widdae implicated Theresa, an' the poor lass's been through enough. So I claimed he owed me money, only Theresa sent me a payment after I'd been arrested."
"And I was your insurance policy, just in case the monster didn't reappear. You lied to me to get me here, then used me to prove Nessie really existed."
"A' that's true, but it's no' the real reason I brought ye hame." He looked away, facing the window. "God kens I've been a lousy faither tae ye, Zachary, but ye're still my son, an' I've missed ye terribly. An' I kent ye were sufferin' inside, too, jist like I had as a lad. After I received a call frae yer mum—"
> "My mother called you?"
"Aye. Back in January. She telt me whit happened tae ye in the Sargasso Sea, an' everythin' yer psychiatrist had tae say aboot yer night terrors an' ye bein' feart o' the water, a' stemmin' frae whit happened back when ye was nine.
"Well, I blamed mysel' for that mess, as did you. But I also kent that the only way for ye ever tae be whole again was tae face yer inner demons. That meant comin' hame tae Loch Ness, but no way in hell were ye doin' that, no' wi'oot a fight anyway. When I wis arrested for Johnny's death, I kent the trial could entice ye hame, an' I kent if I goaded ye enough, the Wallace in ye wid come oot fightin'. An' boy wis I ever right. Ye went after that creature like Sherlock Holmes huntin' Moriarty. But I never intended ye tae face the monster alone, only tae prove it wis oot there."
"So you're saying the real reason you spoke up about the monster and left the Templar was to force me to conquer my fears?"
"As I live an' breathe."
"I don't believe you."
"No? Think aboot it, son. Yer mind wis hidin' the truth aboot the Loch frae ye for seventeen years. Puttin' ye up on the witness stand, revealin' yer battle scars tae the world… I had tae jolt that brain o' yers but good. Hell, ye've spent the last seventeen years deceivin' yerself."
I lay back on my pillows, struggling with the revelation.
"Put yer mind tae it, it'll come." Angus bent and kissed me on the forehead. "I've got tae go, I've an interview wi' a Hollywood agent in an hour, but we'll see each other soon enough. Oh, I almost forgot."
He reached into his jacket pocket, then tossed me a folded document. "That's your share o' oor land. You and Maxie each own thirty- three percent. Ye get the rest o' whit's mine after I croak."
"Land? I thought you sold the land to Johnny C.?"
"Leased it. I'd never sell. That land's been in oor family since William Wallace wis jist a lad. At least now we'll start makin' some money frae it, eh?"
"But Dad!"
"Butts are for crappin', son." Angus waved from the hall, his back to me as he paused to eye a pretty blond nurse. "See ye later, Dragonslayer."
Chapter 37
Inverness
Two more days passed before I was released. The nurse wheeled me out a side exit, just in case any more reporters were still staking out Raigmore Hospital. Brandy was waiting there for me, seated on a new Harley-Davidson, a gift from the local dealership. She was now doing their television commercials.
"You look pretty sexy sitting on that hog."
"Accordin' tae the ads, the vibrations make me horny. Get oot o' that wheelchair and climb on, I'm drivin."
I slid behind her and we kissed, then she gunned the engine and accelerated down the driveway.
* * *
The Great Glen was aglow in a burnt-orange sunset by the time we arrived at Aldourie Castle.
"Brandy, what're we doing back here?"
"Loose ends, as ye say." She climbed off the motorcycle, and I followed her into the ancient mansion.
The study had been swept clean, and there were lit candles everywhere.
"This is where you wanted to make love? You're a spooky chick, you know that."
She kissed me, then led me to the fireplace. "There'll be plenty o' time for lovemakin', Zachary Wallace. First, there's some family business tae attend tae."
The back wall of the fireplace pivoted quietly upon its recently oiled hinges, revealing the dumbwaiter.
"Brandy—"
"Go on. I'll be here when ye're through."
I looked at her, uneasy, then stepped onto the platform and lowered myself down the dark shaft.
* * *
It wasn't until I reached bottom that I could see the torches. They'd been fixed to the cavern walls, illuminating a corridor that led away from the aquifer's access tunnel, down a different section of the cave.
I followed the lights, then rounded a corner and entered a torch- lit chamber.
There were two dozen Templar present, maybe more, all cloaked in Black hoods and tunics. In silence, they encircled me, and then the leader stepped forward, brandishing his gold sword.
"Zachary Adam Wallace," Alban MacDonald said, his voice muffled behind his hood, "are ye here of your own free will?"
"I am."
"Wi' this blood oath, dae ye swear allegiance tae the Order o' the Knight?"
"I do."
"Brethren o' the Templar, are there any objections tae acceptin' this novice intae the Order?"
None responded.
Reaching out, he took my right hand, then opened my flesh with a brush of his blade.
Alban signaled me to kneel, then recited Psalm 133. "Arise, Sir Zachary, for as o' this day an' forever mair, ye are a Templar Knight. Sir Angus?"
My father stepped forward, his face remaining cloaked. From his tunic he removed a silver casket, set on a braided gold chain. Holding it up to the light, he translated the Latin inscription aloud.
"The Bruce is Scotland, an' Scotland the Bruce. Protect the Braveheart, for freedom's sake… the coven o' the Black Knights made."
Angus placed the casket's necklace around my neck, and then I followed the procession to a small alcove.
Alban pressed on a section of rock, which pivoted, revealing a two-by-three-foot hiding place, its walls made of new brick and mortar, lined in silk.
Removing the Braveheart from around my neck, I placed it in its new resting place.
Alban muttered a prayer in Latin, then sealed the camouflaged coffin.
And then, one by one, the Black Knights revealed themselves to me as they shook my still-bleeding hand.
There was Calum Forest and Sheriff Holmstrom, and old man Stewart, my history teacher in Grammar School. True gave me a hearty bear-hug, and I was shocked to see Judge Hannam, who said, "Welcome hame, lad. Now dae us both a favor an' keep yer auld man oot o' my courtroom."
The Crabbit was last in line. He shook my hand in both of his, then inspected my bleeding palm. "I've learned that time can heal a' wounds, Zachary, even history's bloodiest affairs. One day soon, Scotland will achieve her true independence, an' on that day, yours an' mine will present the Braveheart tae her people. Until then, guard its secret well."
"Yes, sir."
"So, then, I understand ye asked my daughter for her hand."
"Stop pressurin' the boy, Crabbit," Angus bellowed, bulldozing his way into our conversation. "It's no' like he knocked her up!"
It took both True and I to separate them.
I guess some wounds take longer to heal than others.
* * *
Angus and I were the last pair to ascend.
"I take it Alban decided to reinstate you after you located the Braveheart?"
"I'm sure it influenced his decision. But it wis his idea tae welcome ye intae the Order, one I embraced."
As we approached the top of the shaft, the light from the study shone on my face.
Angus noticed my perturbed expression. "Wis there another loose end ye needed tyin'?"
"Just one. You knew Johnny C. had been bribing the local EPA officials, just like you knew it was the dynamiting at his resort that was driving the creature mad."
"So?"
"So, the Sargasso Sea incident happened back in January, which means you knew about my night terrors a good month before you confronted Cialino at Urquhart Castle."
"Whit's yer point?"
"Was it really an accident, or did you condition the monster with bait so it would be in the bay the evening you struck Johnny C.?"
"Condition the monster? Whit a clever idea. Wish I'd thought o' that." He gave me a wink, then stepped off the dumbwaiter into the fireplace where Brandy was waiting. "He's a' yours, lass. See if ye can get him tae relax a bit an' start enjoyin' his life. The laddie thinks way too much."
He waved, then strolled out the front door to the castle driveway, where Theresa Cialino was waiting for him in her Porsche.
Epilogue Quotes
It follows that any being, if it
vary however slightly in any manner profitable to itself, under the complex and sometimes varying conditions of life, will have a better chance of surviving, and thus be Naturally Selected.
—CHARLES DARWIN, THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES, 1859
Evolution is not "of a very mystical nature." It depends on accidents. In numerous species these accidents happen often enough to give rise to statistical certainty.
—J. B. S. HALDANE, A DIALECTICAL ACCOUNT OF EVOLUTION, 1937
Science is not "show and tell." As researchers, we should never base our conclusions on the iceberg's visible tip, nor on man's limited ability to access Nature. If an undiscovered species exists and we have yet to see it, it still exists. For her part, Nature has done her best to keep us away from her depths, be this the cold, peat-infested abyss of Loch Ness or the uncharted waters of the Mariana Trench. Only after we create the means of access shall the mysteries be unraveled. Until then, any conclusions we draw remain unproven.
—ZACHARY WALLACE, MARINE BIOLOGIST
LOCH NESS: A NEW THEORY, SCRIPPS, 1999, (UNPUBLISHED)
Epilogue
Sargasso Sea
Five months later
And so my tale ends, only now I've come full circle, returning once more to this dreadful Sargasso Sea. Brandy's with me this time, and yes, we're married, with a child on the way.
The night terrors? A distant memory.
Brandy and I stood together on deck, hand in hand, as the crew of the research vessel, Manhattanville, lowered our remotely operated vehicle over the side. On-board the unmanned submersible were cameras, sonar, and my latest lure, one inspired by a long-forgotten childhood memory.
National Geographic's cameras were rolling, documenting what we hoped would be the first live shots of a species I had dubbed, Anguilla giganticusnessensis.
Never shy around a camera, Brandy flashed them her swollen belly, causing me to laugh.