by E. Coulombe
Andrew tightened his lips and his blue eyes brightened.
Andrew guided Kerri into the old Honolulu Aquarium. He led her down the central stairs, directly to the shark area. As they approached the gloomy, dark tank, Kerri hesitated and he gently placed his hand under her elbow – an old fashioned gesture, but to her surprise, she found she liked it.
Walking the tank's perimeter, she casually glanced through each window into the semi-opaque murkiness of the tank. A group of school children crowded around the gate, banging on the glass, yelping “Jaws, Jaws!!!”
“Shush,” the teacher instructed, as the group disappeared around the bend, their shrieks fading into the void.
“Andrew, sharks give me the creeps. What are we doing here?” Kerri asked.
“I want to watch them swim.”
As they approached the window something in the water caught Andrew’s eye. A large black orb came into focus as the beast passed their window several feet away. She could just make out the markings of the tiger. They watched, and within moments it returned head on, moving fast with its large gaping mouth open and the lower jaw fully extended.
They both instinctively jumped back. Kerri gasped, “Jesus Christ, can that thing see us?”
“I don't think so. These windows are designed like one-way mirrors; they don't want the fish disturbed.”
“It looked so…malicious,” she said. “I may be imagining things, but that beast had a really evil look on its face. The blackness of its eye, God --I swear that thing not only saw us -- it attacked us.”
“Sharks have other ways of ‘seeing’. Did you notice the pores on its snout? Through those it can sense electrical pulses from your nervous system. The more nervous you are, the more easily it can detect you.
“Why do you want to watch this thing swim?”
The shark came back into view; Andrew didn’t answer until it had passed. “This beast intrigues me,” he finally said, “perhaps more than any other. It’s the ultimate predator. Probably has ruled the seas ever since it evolved 400 million years ago. It’s one of the oldest species still alive …see those pectoral fins? Do you know what they do?”
“Provide balance?”
“More. They also provide lift, like underwater wings. And his prey detectors? Superior. Not just electric sensors-- they can also trace chemicals in the water. You know how they tell you to stay out of the water if you're menstruating? Ha, you don't have to be on your cycle to have a female odor detectable to a shark. Sharks can feel the waves generated by a foot-long fish over a mile away.” As he spoke, Andrew continued his methodical search of the tank.
“Have you ever been in the water with a shark,” Andrew asked. Without waiting for an answer, he added, “you’ll never feel more vulnerable. It’s like you’re a piece of meat stuck on a hook, and if that shark’s hungry, he’ll just come and take the meat, and I guess I was lucky and he just wasn't hungry. Simple, dumb, blind luck-- there was nothing I could’ve done. He looked at me with that black eye and I swear I felt like I was kneeling underwater, prostrate with my head down, paying homage to the ruler of the seas.”
Andrew stopped and stared into the tank. Kerri felt an engulfing fear coming from Andrew as he grappled with the memory. The shark seemed to sense it as well and hit the glass again with its naked snout.
“Do you know why the shark hasn’t changed its form for 400 million years? Because it never needed to. There were no predatory pressures it couldn't elude. Underwater perfection. If the purpose of DNA is to perpetuate itself, the shark can be seen as the final achievement of that goal for gill breathers. Will the same be said of man? Are we the final form for land mammals? Or will we change into something new?” Andrew turned away from the window and began walking along the perimeter of the shark tank.
“Are we leaving now Andrew?” Kerri asked, relieved to be moving away from the portal. “This place is really creeping me out.”
Ignoring her, Andrew glanced in both directions down the corridor. A young couple sauntered by holding hands. After they passed he took a few steps to the right and quietly turned the handle of an unmarked door.
“I need to talk with you—away from the other visitors,” he said as he passed through the door and held it open for her to follow.
Obviously off limits Kerri hesitated, and entered. He immediately closed the door behind her.
“What are you doing Andrew? We’re not supposed to be in here.” They were standing in a storeroom of tank supplies.
“Let’s leave,” she said, turning back towards the door.
Andrew stepped in front and blocked the exit.
“First let me show you something.” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a three-ring notebook and a manila folder. From the folder he removed several large photos and handed them to her. Kerri realized she was holding her breath. She reached for the pictures but for a split second he wouldn’t let go of them. He looked directly into her eyes. Uncertain of his gesture she looked down at the photos.
“It’s funny,” he said haltingly, “I’ve never been eager to share my work before, and I find it kind of strange that I feel inclined to do so now. But for some reason….” he paused again, “I’m anxious, and excited….” he sighed, “Oh hell, I really need to know what you think.” He finally released his grip on the photos.
There were about a dozen photos, all black and white, apparently taken through a microscope. The first photo she looked at depicted a rod-shaped bacterium. Rose colored. She looked quizzically at Andrew but he just motioned for her to go on. The second appeared to be a blastula at the stage of four divisions. The third photo was the early larval stage of a worm of some kind; it was too young to identify the species.
She didn’t understand.
“Okay, what am I missing?”
“You don't see it do you? I wouldn't either if I hadn't taken that myself.” He shook his head back and forth. “They are consecutive photos of one organism.”
“What!” she asked incredulous? She looked at the photos more closely. “The bacteria, the blastula, the larva, they are one organism? What kind of organism does this?”
“All organisms do this. Or did. Once. But the process of evolution normally takes millions of years. What you’re seeing in those photos occurred within a few seconds.” He practically shouted. “Incredible, isn't it? Fantastic. And if I didn't have those photos I wouldn't believe I’d seen it myself.”
“Seen what? Andrew, I’m confused. I’m sorry but you’re not making any sense.”
“Three months ago I was working with the mutatorsome. I attached it to a transposable element so that it could freely insert itself into various regions of the chromosome. And I added in the bicoid gene, one of the first hox genes discovered. I call it the Mutator.” He said the word uneasily, as if he’d spoken it aloud for the first time.
“And it was taken up by the halosalinarium bacteria which I found over at Salt Pond. That’s the first photo. I let them grow for 24 hours and examined a sample periodically thereafter to see any changes. At first I saw nothing, but when I came in the fourth evening to take another look -- I saw this.” He stopped, but she didn’t react. “Don’t you get it? I saw this! These are consecutive photos at two minute intervals!”
“What?” She shook her head vigorously.
“Right before my eye, it mutated into these forms, and then it did something else, but I didn’t get a good look because the cleaning lady came in just as I saw this…” He handed her the last photo, the hexagonal pattern with the gray arrowhead, the same thing they’d seen in Govinda’s lab.
“I didn’t know what it was until today, when you discovered it under Govinda’s scope. It seems that in the bacterial culture there was a larval form of some kind and one end of it started to develop into a compound eye.” Andrew stared at the picture and slowly shook his head back and forth. Kerri was too stunned to speak. “But then, it just imploded. It didn't blow up; it blew in, collapsed on itself and was gone. N
othing left but cell fragments. Disassociated. Nothing. And when I repeated it? I couldn’t get the same results again, no matter what I did. I repeated each step down to the last detail. It's all here in the notebook.”
She took the notebook and read it entirely. It detailed his procedures and results. He stood beside her, fidgeting, waiting for her to finish before speaking again. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s too incredible to be true, and if it can’t be replicated it isn’t valid.” Andrew’s frustration showed in the deliberate way he shook his head back and forth. “At least that’s what I would tell you, or anyone, who showed me this. But it did happen, and the question is--why can’t I do it again? I’ve tried changing the water temperature, the age of the bacteria, the age of the culture from which they were drawn, a new batch of the plasmid. Everything I could think of. So there must be another variable, something that I’ve missed.” He finally collapsed on the steps behind her, his head hanging down, and his skinny, long wrists limp across his lap.
Kerri stood over him, completely dumbfounded. This man, she thought, had done the most remarkable thing she’d ever seen. Hell, the most remarkable event in the history of modern science. He’d mutated a life form. From one organism into another.
Or had he? Had he really done it? It was impossible …and yet… She thumbed through the photos. Are these the stages bacteria would go through in becoming an arthropod? Her mind raced through her old biology text.
This strange, brilliant, scientist--had he really done this? Isolated on some primitive island ….this obviously mad scientist who moments before had terrified her by locking her in a closet…. had he just shared the most incredible scientific discovery of the 21st century with her? Damn! She started to leave. She needed air.
“This is why you asked me to come to Nakoa, isn’t it?” she said, groping for the door. “You said you were interested in my work – but what you really wanted was collaboration on yours. But why me? You must have colleagues from Harvard you could work with. Why me?”
“Who would believe me? I mean, without further proof this involves a leap of faith, doesn’t it?” He looked up into her eyes. “When I read your work, when I spoke with you on the phone, I thought maybe, maybe you would make the leap.”
She said nothing.
“So?” he asked obliquely.
“So what?”
“So, can I trust you?”
“Trust me to do what?”
“To not break my heart?”
“What?” She flushed, confused.
“Just kidding. To not discuss this work with others.”
“Of course” she answered.
She found the door and opened it, and as the light assaulted her eyes, she realized that she felt light-headed, like she might swoon.
Keep it professional, she told herself, this work is dangerous. Stay sharp, keep a clear head.
“We need to find out what you've done,” she said while stepping into the hallway. “And quickly,” she added, although not quite sure why.
Chapter Nineteen
“Actually I’ve never been here before,” Lono looked around the cave. “I thought my cousins had brought me here before, but that cave was ten times bigger.”
“Then how fucking lucky were we? Shit man, if you hadn't found that hole….”
“An old lava tube, I guess.”
“I owe you one,” Dale said. “I don’t know what happened man, but I‘ve never been that scared in my whole entire life!”
“Are you kidding me? I can’t believe you came in to get me, you crazed idiot! You put that ski between us and the cliff and if you hadn’t, I would have been mangled just like that machine.”
Dale looked directly into Lono’s eyes. “I’d never leave you out here buddy.” The intensity of his stare made Lono look away, he knew Dale meant it. “Sides,” Dale quipped, “I sure wouldn’t want to be the one to tell Tutu.”
Lono laughed. “Anyway it was one hell of a ride, man, wasn’t it? One hell of a ride,” Lono said softly. “What a rush.”
For a few seconds, they sat in silent respect for the wave that had nearly killed them both, until Dale remembered something else. “Hey Lono--what the fuck was that thing eating on my arm man out there? Did you see it?”
“No. I heard you scream, then felt something on my hand, but I swung away fast. Come to think of it, Michael and I both got bit by something weird at Kanawao’s Beach the other day.”
“This one looked like some kind of a lobster, but big. About two feet long, at least. With an ugly tail.”
“You mean like a scorpion kind?”
“I guess, I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before. Have you?”
Lono shook his head. “Lobsters don’t come out and bite. They stay hidden, bottom feeding. Whatever bit me at Kanawao’s was swimming in the surf.”
“Then what was it?”
“I don’t know.” Lono shifted his weight to a better seat on the ledge, anxious to get going. “Are you still bleeding?”
“I’m okay. So how do we get the hell out of here? We can’t go out into that swell again. How long you think before it goes down?” Propping his leg up on the opposite side of the cave, Dale turned his body towards the entrance, then stopped. “Hey did you see that?”
“No, what?”
“I don't know. I thought I saw something. Dale kept his eyes riveted on the underwater entrance.
“Quit scaring the shit out of me. Do you remember the forecast on how long this swell will last?”
Dale didn’t answer. Instead, he watched the water. The current seemed to change, as though something was swimming underneath the surface. “What the fuck was that?” He jumped up higher on the ledge.
Lono followed suit. “What is it man?”
“Something just brushed against my leg.” They both stared down at the water as a large piece of seaweed floated up to the surface. Lono let out a sigh. “Geez, it’s just seaweed. We need to get out of here before we both really lose it. Can you make it?”
Dale raised his eyes from the water’s surface and shook his head uncertainly. “Well, I can get out of the tube, but then the waves are just going to slam us back into the cliff.”
“No, here’s how you do it. Dive in when the current is in. Work against it as far into the tube as you can. Try to reach the mouth of the tube just as the swell is going out and then bam - it shoots you out like a cannon.”
Neither moved. Instead, they sat in silence contemplating their chances. Finally, Lono jumped in, and Dale followed suit.
The salt water on Dale’s open wound made him wince, but the bleeding had stopped. He motioned to Lono that he was ready just as the water started to rise. This was going to be a big one, he told Lono--good for getting out of there--which also meant the next one would be brutal if it hurled them back into the jagged lava rocks. The wave was so big they only had space left for their faces, with their heads turned up to the ceiling.
“Let’s do it.” Lono said as he ducked down and entered the tunnel. The salt water stung Dale’s eyes, but he stayed right behind Lono, and when they were half way into the tunnel the surge started out. They held on to the tunnel walls, waiting for just the right push.
Then, in an instant, an army of the lobster-like things latched onto Lono’s legs. Spiny claws ripped into Dale’s flesh, ripping away large pieces of skin. Several more jumped up on Lono's back, their spear-pointed tails pulled underneath, digging into his spine. Lono instinctively arched his back, and just then, the surge shot him through the tunnel.
Dale was left behind. He panicked and pulled himself back into the cave and up onto the closest ledge.
He could've fought one of them, maybe two, he thought, but there were at least a dozen. It was a goddamn siege! A chill of horror swept over him as he wondered if the creatures had hunted them down, and if they had followed him back into the cave. His question was answered by the next swell which carried four of them in. They perched on the ledge opposite him, wa
tching him through opaque black eyes mounted on rotating stalks.
Motionless.
Waiting.
“FOR WHAT? You friggin assholes. Get the hell out of here!”
Reinforcements. The next swell brought in four more. Soon there were more than twenty of the creatures on the ledge. Staring at him. They unfurled their spiked claws and raised up their rear legs, poised, as if ready to strike. He could see a round hole on their underside, edged with slicing scissor blades.
His only hope, as he dove for the tunnel, was to drown.
Nani and Moki cruised the shore one more time. It had been six hours since Lono left, far too long. None of the usual surfer trucks were in the lot; she didn’t see a soul on the beach. She stayed on the upper road, praying that the sea wouldn’t overtake the pavement and engulf her car, watching as giant waves unfurled one after the other on the beach below, lapping the sand all the way to the tree line.
The moon was rising from the eastern sea. She strained her eyes and in the pale light she could barely see the men paddling back and forth, searching the waters for any sign of Lono and Dale. Nani was sick at heart as she imagined her boy, floating alone in that endless expanse. Needle in a haystack, she thought, and began to cry again.
Moki scanned the beach with a hand-held search light. At first holding it steady and carefully examining each and every shadow and shape, the jagged rocks on the far end, a washed up log, an overturned bucket, and had become most agitated when he spotted an old boot half embedded in the sand, but quickly recollected his wits – Lono didn’t even own a pair of boots, much less wear them surfing. Now he rhythmically moved the beam up and down the beach until finally his light reflected something in the water and he stopped.
Nani looked out.
An arm stroked the water. They ran down the crumbling dirt cliff, Nani yelling Lono’s name and Moki telling him to just hold on. A wave tossed his body like a rag doll and spit him out onto the beach just as they reached him. They half-carried, half-dragged their son up the shrubs and lay him down on a bed of ilima vines. He was alive, scratched, but whole and still breathing.