by Peter Knyte
They were probably no more than another seventy feet away, but with my magnifier lenses down I could see that all three of them were there and milling around perfectly normally while they waited for the response back from my own team and the team on their south, so I decided to not delay things any further and just headed back to my own team, albeit with a mental note to ask the team in question what had caused the delay when we came out of the sewers near the East River.
I got back to the team with a shrug, and we proceeded with our search, though I did make a point of asking Leo which street that team would have been under, and whether there was anything unusual about it as we walked.
‘No sir, nothing unusual,’ he explained knowl-edgeably. ‘They would have been following Montague St across just south of us, before reaching the north-south line beneath Christie street, and this entire area was constructed at the same time in late 1859, with each of the sewers being constructed along an almost identical plan.’
By the time we’d checked another couple of cross channels, I could see what he was talking about when he referred to the construction being done to an almost identical plan, each section was almost a carbon copy of every other, even the piles of dead rats started to look like they’d been copied one from another after a while.
It took us nearly three hours to traverse the entire section of the sewers across to the East River, with no sight or sound of the creature, but it still felt good to get back up to the daylight and the comparatively sweet smelling air.
I’d almost forgotten about having had to wait for the team to our south earlier on in the search, but after thanking Leo for his guided tour of Manhattan’s underworld, he reminded me by giving me a small slip of paper with the street names and the nearest sewer entrance scribbled down on it.
I confessed I’d almost forgotten about it, but then decided that as the rest of the morning had been a wash out, I may was well follow up on this one odd occurrence.
We had to make our way back to the Bowery to pick up our shoes and to return our hard hats, wellington boots and rubberised gloves, but I asked Leo if he’d mind us taking a slight detour to catch up with the team that had been delayed so we could ask what had happened.
As I’d expected he was more than happy to oblige, and even managed to lead us along a slightly quieter street or two so that we caught up with the team just as they got back to their own shoes and boots.
Leo of course did the introductions, when we arrived.
‘Mr Hall, this is Mr Isaac Nolan, Mr Nolan, this is Mr Hall from the airship.’
They could almost have been brothers to look at them, Nolan was not only of a similar age, he was also like Leo immaculately dressed in overalls and button down shirt, with a small perfectly tied bow tie, and an equally perfect small moustache.
‘Please sir, call me Isaac,’ were his first words before asking how he could be of assistance.
‘It’s about the delay you had coming over to Christie Street Izzy,’ Leo chipped in before I had a chance to say a word. ‘Mr Hall here was wondering why it took you so much longer than us to make the traverse?’
‘Ah yes, of course,’ Isaac or Izzy replied. ‘Well you know Leo it was the darndest thing. As we were making our way across we were ducking into all the side channels, storm flows and the like, and you know in one of them we found this huge pile of sticks and debris of all sorts. In one of our sewers no less.’
‘Impossible!’ Replied Leo, clearly outraged.
But the description that Isaac had given, had instantly reminded me of the ‘nest’ of debris we’d found earlier on that morning near to the railyard.
‘I’d like to go back down and take a look if you don’t mind,’ I said cutting through their ongoing chit chat.
‘Well I’d rather get the place tidied up first sir, if you don’t mind. There’s a certain professional standard we like to maintain in our work, I’m sure you understand.’
‘I’m afraid it’s the debris I’d like to see Isaac,’ I explained, almost apologetically.
‘Oh, I see, of course sir.’ he replied slightly perplexed. ‘Do you think this creature you’re hunting might have created this mess, while it was killing all the rats?’
When I confirmed that was exactly what I suspected, both Isaac and Leo both looked even more disapproving than they had at the idea of the debris being there in the first place.
It took us barely five minutes to get back down into the sewers and across to the storm drain where Isaac had spotted the pile of debris.
I wasn’t sure what I was hoping to find as I approached the pile of rubbish and started to examine in, but after finding nothing of immediate interest I stepped in a little further to take a closer look, and as I did so my foot crunched down on something, which as I looked turned out to be a piece of strangely melted and bubbled glass with some kind of metallic substance fused into one side of it.
There was no mistaking where this had come from, the creature had built this nest of twigs and debris again, but for what purpose I still couldn’t imagine.
I borrowed the metal rod that Leo carried as a cane, and used it to move more and more of the debris out of the way. revealing more and more odd shaped bits of brittle glass and strangely shaped castings of different metal alloys all over the floor, unmistakably the remnants of the metal and glass that must have showered down upon the creature when it escaped into the culvert beneath the railyard.
I’d seen enough, and was just about to turn away, when amongst the pile of blistered glass and metal I found several larger pieces that were big enough to recognise which bit of the creature they’d come from, a shoulder, an ear, part of an arm. Almost like fragments of a plaster cast but made of metal or glass, the outside a blistered and bubbled mess, the inside, still quite recognisable. I picked up one piece that looked as though it had got a couple of the buttons from Ariel’s uniform welded into the back of it, and immediately beneath it there was another larger piece with a perfect cast of the left hand side of Ariel’s face, as it had been worn by the creature.
I used Leo’s stick to turn it over to check the other side before I picked this up also to show to the others. It was covered in some kind of oddly sticky substance, that I now noticed covered a good portion of the metal and glass ‘mouldings’. I’d no idea if it might mean something, but decided to bag up a couple of pieces with some of the substance on it so we could try to get some kind of analysis. It was a long-shot, but it was all we had.
‘The creature has definitely been here,’ I commented neutrally. ‘I think I’ve seen enough now gentlemen, if you wouldn’t mind taking me back to the surface so I can get back to my ship.
CHAPTER 27 - INSIGHTS
I travelled back to Columbus Park and the ship lost in thought, wracking my brain to try and figure out what this strange nesting behaviour of the creature could mean. Why was it gathering debris around itself in this fashion. We’d never seen this from a Lamphrey before, and I just couldn’t figure out why it might need it.
The thing had a shell-like carapace that made it practically invulnerable to all but heavy calibre firearms, we knew they slept, but not for very long and I couldn’t imagine the debris was any kind of a bed. The only thing I could think of that made any sense at all was camouflage, but then we knew this creature had built the first nest before it was injured and therefor when it could still turn itself invisible with practically no effort.
Could there be another reason why it would need to hide, something that would compromise its ability to turn itself invisible, I just couldn’t make sense of it.
Somehow, despite being distracted I managed to thank the driver who had taken me back to the park, and was halfway to the cradle before I realised someone was calling my name.
Turning around I realised it was Fraser who’d also just been dropped off in another vehicle, and who was jogging after me across the open space of the park.
‘Your vision might be good Ashton, but you’re hearing isn�
��t up to much,’ he joked, as he reached me.
‘Sorry James,’ I replied, apologetically. ‘I’ve got a bee in my bonnet about something we found in the sewers that I just can’t seem to figure out.’
‘I suspected as much,’ he said. ‘Do you want to tell me about it, or would you rather wait until later when we brief everyone.’
I knew I’d have to go over it again if I went through it all with Fraser, but my own thoughts were going round in circles, and sometimes just giving my thoughts voice helped me to think about things differently. So, as we rode back up to the ship in the cradle, I explained what had happened, and how we’d found another nest similar to the one that we’d discovered together near the railyard.
I thought it would take a while, so went back to bridge first to assist in flying the ship back to our more permanent mooring in Central Park. I also delayed for a few minutes to give the Captain a quick overview of what we’d found in the sewers, but admitted I needed a bit more time to think about what it could all mean, so I went for a stroll over to Bradbury’s refectory with Fraser and grabbed a cup of coffee while I explained my thoughts in a bit of rambling fashion.
‘Ok, let me stop you there,’ Fraser finally broke in, interrupting me in mid-ramble.
‘So, let’s review what we know that’s relevant,’ he continued, grabbing a fresh paper napkin from the table and a pen from the suit jacket he’d placed over the back of his chair.
‘Okay,’ he began writing each point down as he went.
‘We think this creature is building or gathering this debris into piles for some reason.
‘We know it started before it was injured, so it’s nothing to do with that.
‘It doesn’t need it for protection, shelter from the elements or to hide.
‘Okay, so let’s see . . .’ he continued, clearly thinking as he went.
‘Could it be . . . an attempt to communicate?’ he conjectured. ‘. . . No didn’t think so, or if it is it’s so alien it’s of no help to us.’
‘Could it be . . . some kind of hunting hide or trap?’ he continued. ‘No, it can turn itself invisible, so why would it need a hide, and it clearly didn’t need one for all the rats.’
‘I appreciate the thought James, but maybe I’m better off just finding a darkened room and thinking about it.’ I interjected, thinking we were wasting our time.
‘No, no, we’ve barely got started,’ he hushed me, waving me back down into my chair.
‘How about a kind of cocoon?’ he suggested with a slightly helpless smile on his face. ‘Perhaps it’s trying to turn into a giant butterfly and . . .’
He stopped after he looked up and saw the expression on my face.
‘Now that might explain a few things,’ I replied. We don’t know, but one academic back on my own world did speculate that these creatures might either shed their hard carapace armour in order to grow, like some snakes or lizards do. He also suggested they might transform over time, when some of the limbs which they don’t seem to have much use for could develop into something else. . . maybe even wings.’
‘Seriously?’ Fraser asked looking at me. ‘You think it might be trying to turn into a butterfly?’
‘No, but some kind of growth or metamorphosis might well be closer to the truth than I’ve got.’ I replied. ‘But don’t let the success go to your head it’s only a maybe, what other ideas have you got?’
‘More you say! Alright then. What . . . about . . . an actual nest?’ He finally suggested. ‘Maybe it likes the big apple and wants to settle down and have a couple of kids, or eggs or whatever?’
He was grinning again at the idea, but again when he saw me seriously thinking about it, it was his turn to look surprised.
‘No seriously Ashton!’ he began to protest. ‘Even I can count, surely in the Expanse you still need two to tango?’
‘It was your idea James,’ I replied, earnestly. ‘We know nothing about how these creatures breed, so you never know. In any event that’s two things that would explain why the creature might want a bit of cover, because it might not be able to maintain its invisibility while it either sheds its skin or gives birth.’
I couldn’t believe he’d just come up with two perfectly credible options by just having a bit of joke. We left the refectory and went our separate ways. I stopped off at one of the science labs on the way back to my quarters to put the metal and glass samples that I’d found in the creatures nest into some proper sample containers, making a mental note to mention them to the Captain a bit later on.
I then headed back to my cabin to get washed and changed into some fresh clothes. The sewer might’ve been mild by comparison with how it was in the winter or spring, but I still wanted a wash and a fresh change of clothes before I did anything else.
As soon as my mind had found a reasonable explanation for the creatures odd behaviour, courtesy of Agent Fraser, I found my thoughts turning to all the other things I needed or wanted to follow up on, I was so distracted in the end I almost didn’t notice a parcel waiting for me when I entered my cabin, propped up on the small desk I had in the corner for writing up reports and servicing my gun and lensing rig.
It wasn’t addressed, but there was a card leaning against it from Hughes, that simply read ‘I hope this helps – HH’
I couldn’t imagine what he could be referring to for a moment, but then, as it is with many parcels, just as my fingers were finding their way into the string and brown paper, I figured it out.
He’d given me a leather covered journal filled with sheet after sheet of plain white paper. It was a lovely thing that immediately felt good in my hands, and like a moth to a flame I found myself opening it up, and before I’d washed or changed or done a single other thing, I picked up a pen and allowed the things I’d been bottling up inside me to spill out onto the page.
I began with my very first memories on this world, of the rain soaked night on which we appeared out of the void, and everything else between then and now. Nothing too detailed, just enough to keep the memories fresh.
For nearly two hours I sat at my little desk and wrote, and in the process I felt something happening in my mind, perhaps the regaining of perspective that Hughes had mentioned. I still sensed the smouldering pit of anger and rage deep inside me, but committing my thoughts to paper seemed to soothe the glowing coals more than I’d known of late.
I’d spent so long, just sat writing, that when I finally realised the time, I had to hustle in order to get washed and changed before heading off to our afternoon briefing session.
Platt was evidently not a great believer in formality for its own sake, so the briefing moved along quickly. We started with the findings form the rail-yard, followed by what we’d discovered in the sewers and the samples I’d brought back. Hughes offered to have these analysed at a lab his company owned nearby, and have the preliminary results back to us within a day, which was an unbelievably fast turn-around time.
Once we’d finished with the facts of what we’d discovered I mentioned the theories that Agent Fraser had come up with earlier on in the day, emphasising the point that we had no concrete evidence to support either idea.
‘They might not be substantiated by any evidence Mr Hall,’ commented Captain Platt. ‘But they are at least something that we can start to put contingencies in place around, particularly the idea that this creature might somehow be capable of reproducing.’
‘Do you have any idea how these creatures reproduce, the numbers of young that might be born, the time to maturity, anything?’ he asked, looking between me and the Captain for any sign that we could help.
‘We know very little about the reproductive cycle of these creatures,’ the Captain explained, earnestly. ‘From our examination of the dead specimens we’ve recovered on our own world we had thought they might be somehow hermaphroditic, as every specimen seemed broadly similar in physiology, but since then from some of the experiments we’ve done on specimens we’ve killed in the Expanse, we no
w think it may be more complex and that these creatures actually need something else to help them reproduce, not another gender so much as a substance of some variety that somehow allows fertilising matter to develop within the creature.
‘The thing we don’t know is what this matter is, whether it’s something that just causes a kind of mutation within the creature, or whether it somehow allows the creature to generate new genetic material that is somehow different to its own, our scientific team just couldn’t tell.’
As the Captain had been explaining this to everyone, one of Platt’s assistants had entered the room with message written down on a slip of paper.
He quickly read it, before addressing us.
‘Gentlemen, I’m very pleased to tell you that your colleague, Ms Ariel Shilling has regained consciousness and is asking for you.’
‘She seems to be herself, as we’d hoped?’ The Captain asked.
‘The information I have from Dr Bach at the Sanatorium is limited,’ Platt continued. ‘But he informs me that she regained consciousness at approximately twenty minutes to four. She knows her own name, is not experiencing any pain, and is asking about the welfare of her shipmates.’
‘That is exceptionally good news,’ replied the Captain looking much relieved. ‘Ashton, would you like to head over now, and I’ll try and join you both a little later on this afternoon?’
It was a genuine piece of good news, the first it seemed we’d had since our arrival, so I jumped at the chance to go and see her.
As I excused myself from the meeting, and headed outside to hop in a car over to the Staten Island sanatorium, I realised with a slight twinge that I’d actually been responsible for shooting Ariel on at least two occasions, not to mention chasing after her in a bloodthirsty rage across the rooftops of several warehouses. All of which sobered my mood slightly, as I considered how easily things could have gone differently.