Primordial

by David Wood

  “I’m sure they’ll come to me when they’re ready. Once they need someone who actually knows what he’s about.”

  That stung, but only a little. “You think so?”

  “I’ve been watching you all,” Mo said. “They told Rinne they’re making a nature documentary.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Bullshit!” Mo managed to pour generous helpings of condescension into the two syllables.

  Laine bristled. “What’s it to you? Why do you care?”

  “You know why I care!” Mo spat, disdain melting into hot anger. “You’re trouble, Alvar. And so are they. All of you together? There’ll be hell to pay.”

  “Will there really? Because of a few cameras?” He clucked his tongue. “Are you sure it’s not you who’s causing trouble? Spreading your lunatic stories, whipping up fear whenever the town gets too relaxed?”

  Mo shook his head slowly. “Is that really my job? The way I see it, I care about all of this.” He waved his hand in a sweeping gesture that took in the town and the lake. “You care about yourself. Are you maybe projecting a little bit here?”

  “You know what I think?” Laine demanded. “You’re just fishing for information. You’re just a bored old man wishing you hadn’t wasted your youth, wondering how long until you die, and if maybe you can suck something from other people before you go. Tell a few more tall tales that some loser might remember you by.”

  Mo tipped his head back and laughed hard. “Oh, Alvar, you have a bitter, mean streak in you! Whatever happened to make you so nasty?”

  Laine clenched then relaxed his fists. Mo should already know the answer to that question. “I call it as I see it.”

  Mo nodded slowly, waved a hand in a gesture of truce. “So how’s it going out there? Find anything?”

  Laine’s eyes widened. “You see! You’re just desperate for new stories. You can fuck off, Mo. You’ll get nothing from me.”

  Mo chuckled deep in his throat and wagged one index finger like a schoolteacher. “You’re easier to play than a cheap fiddle, Alvar Laine.” His eyes narrowed, his expression suddenly serious. “But I’m watching you.”

  Before Laine could respond, the old man turned and walked off back toward his shack in the forest out of town. Laine had no idea why he let Mo get to him the way he did, but it had been that way since Laine was a child. Everyone in town at least endured the white haired old yarn-spinner, most seemed to love him, thought him some valuable elder. But nobody else seemed to see the bastard for what he really was. Why was Laine the only one who saw through that kindly old man bullshit? Why could only he see the real danger Mo represented? Whatever. As long as he kept out of the way and didn’t risk Laine’s new income stream here, he could continue to be ignored. It wasn’t like he would really be able to mess up any plans.

  Laine sneered. Maybe Mo’s interests all cut a little too close to the bone. Perhaps that was it. He shook his head and turned back toward home, his mood dampened. If the old bastard had made him too late for breakfast with his family, he’d be extra pissed off.

  * * *

  The Merenneito spent the morning cruising back and forth, the crew reading sonar and getting thoroughly bored. Dave and Carly sat around chatting with nothing to do, Slater stalked about making everyone feel as though they should be working harder. Holloway’s enthusiasm was undiminished as he made noises of wonder at the slightest thing.

  Aston was surprised at how many deep channels they were finding. When Holloway pressed him, he made the billionaire happier still when he admitted there was every possibility some of the channels could potentially lead all the way out to the ocean under the Finnish coastline. But he insisted it was equally likely that none of them did.

  “Either way, not much chance of me ever being able to film that,” Dave said, a little bitterly.

  “Not to worry,” Holloway reassured him. “There’ll be wonders for you to film before this expedition is over, I guarantee you that!”

  Dave snorted, shook his head. “How can you guarantee anything of the sort?” He grinned. “I’m starting to think Gazsi had the right idea. Not about being scared, but I bet he’s in a nice warm pub enjoying a few beers right about now.”

  An hour later they broke for lunch and Slater said to Dave, “As you’re bored, I’ve got a job for you.”

  The cameraman winced. “Should have kept my stupid mouth closed!”

  “There’s another rubber dinghy?” Slater asked Makkonen.

  “Yes, one more.”

  She turned back to Dave. “Laine should be back any time now, so how about you take that one out and get some shoreline shots.”

  Dave raised an eyebrow. “Shoreline?”

  “Yes, take the small video camera and row along near the shore, hold the camera low near the water and get some shots of the shore from, like, a monster’s eye view, you know? Like something watching the land from the water, that kind of thing.”

  Dave nodded, lips pursed. “Yeah, okay, I see what you mean. I can do that. What if something exciting happens here?” His smirk betrayed his opinion of that likelihood.

  “Carly can catch anything here,” Slater said. She looked over to the quiet sound girl. “She’s a pretty accomplished camera operator too, right?”

  Carly jumped slightly, and then nodded. “Yeah, sure. I don’t have Dave’s skills, but I can point his camera if necessary.”

  * * *

  Half an hour later Aston helped Dave pull the cord to inflate the second of their blue and orange rubber dinghies at the dive platform.

  “Shame you drank all my beer,” Dave said. “I could have had a nice quiet afternoon out on the water with a few drinks.”

  Aston let his mouth fall open, mock outrage. “Me? I reckon you had a fair go at that stash yourself. And Carly and your boss were instrumental too.”

  “Yeah, but you Aussies live up to your reputation as big drinkers,” Dave said. “Talk about pounding some brews. You raced us two for one all night.”

  “Did I?” Aston was genuinely contrite, a wave of guilt making him blush slightly.

  Dave grinned and slapped his shoulder. “As a matter of fact, you did, but it’s okay. We’ll have to try to get some more though. Maybe I can sneak away and make a beer run?”

  Aston liked the idea, but couldn’t imagine Dave rowing like Laine. “It’s way too far in this thing,” he said.

  “The thought of a night off, a hotel bed, a few drinks in a warm bar… It’s all very tempting,” Dave said wistfully.

  “You know what? I’ll talk to Slater and Holloway. Maybe we can go to the pub in town for a break tonight or tomorrow. We can declare the need for a crew morale-boosting outing. Then you and me can sneak some takeaways back on board afterwards.”

  “I don’t like your chances of convincing Holloway.”

  Aston shrugged. “True. But it’s worth a try. Better than you rowing all that way!”

  “Maybe.” Dave stared out across the lake. “Honestly, Sam, this whole thing is bullshit, right?”

  “Quite possibly.”

  “So if I did head off for the day, enjoy some beers, I wouldn’t miss anything? And I can still get the shots Jo’s talking about along the way.”

  “Let me talk to Holloway. I’ll convince him.” Aston held the dinghy steady while Dave climbed in.

  “Okay” the cameraman said. “Just don’t forget about me out here.”

  Aston grinned. “Get your shots, then row back out into plain sight. We’ll come and get you.”

  * * *

  After several more hours of mapping the team was finally beginning to expand on their original grid. The results were interesting, but only geographically. Nothing on sonar indicated anything bigger than fish and no more evidence had been found of anything other than a huge, largely empty lake.

  Aston had rep
eatedly stood on deck with binoculars looking back to shore to see if Dave was ready to be picked up, but the cameraman was lost among the ridges and folds of the shoreline. Probably enjoying a bit of peace and quiet, Aston thought with a smile.

  As the afternoon wore on, he began to get a little more concerned at the cameraman’s absence. Maybe he had gone to the pub in town for a few beers after all. At least, Aston hoped that was the case. He was about to go and suggest to Makkonen that they take the Merenneito close to shore and look for him when the sound of a burbling engine drifted through the air. He scanned back toward town and saw their tin boat, piloted by Laine. The cryptozoologist towed the rubber dinghy he had taken to town along in his wake. A few minutes later Aston was helping the man tie the inflatable at the dive platform then re-cradle the tinny.

  “Where was it?” Aston asked as Slater joined them. Carly stood nearby, Dave’s main camera balanced on her shoulder.

  “Not far from here,” Laine said. “I found it on the way out, used it to get to town and back. Gazsi must have taken a long walk like Makkonen suggested.” He began unloading plastic bags of groceries and handing them out to be carried inside.

  “Did you see Dave out there?” Slater asked.

  Laine laughed. “Yes, I did. Has he deserted us too?”

  Palpable relief washed over Aston. “No, he was getting some shots. Where is he? Why didn’t you pick him up?”

  “Pick him up?” Laine said with a frown. “I saw him in town as I was leaving.”

  “In town?” Slater asked, aghast.

  Aston suppressed a grin.

  “He was heading for the liquor store,” Laine said. “I called out to him, said I had the motorboat to take him back and he told me not to worry.”

  “He’s not fit enough to row back again, surely,” Slater said.

  “Exactly what I suggested, as politely as I could,” Laine said. “And he replied he had no intention of coming back today, he’d be back in the morning.”

  Slater spat a curse. “That lazy good for nothing bastard!”

  Aston let the grin out. Good old Dave. He could hardly blame the guy. All that talk of beer must have made him thirsty. Aston was tempted to try to convince Holloway that they should all go back to town and crash Dave’s party, but that felt mean. Let him have his night off and then he could pay for it by having to row back in the morning and face Slater’s wrath.

  They spent the rest of the afternoon mapping more of the lake bed and shore, the repeated results of nothing with extra nothing doing little to ease the boredom. All Aston did was ensure he avoided Slater at all costs. He hoped Dave was making the most of his impromptu day off. Nothing short of a massive party with all the booze, cocaine and hookers the cameraman could handle was going to be enough to offset the hell he was going to pay on his return.

  Chapter 12

  “What do you mean Carly will be filming today?” Holloway’s strident voice cut through the quiet morning. “What if today is the day we find it and her skills aren’t up to the challenge? I want a real cameraman on the job. That’s what I paid you for!”

  “Mister Holloway, just listen to me.” Slater’s gentle tones didn’t quite mask her frustration. “Carly is more than capable. She’s done double-duty plenty of times. Besides, I’m sure Dave will be back any time now.”

  Aston looked up from the sonar screen with a smirk. Dave still wasn’t back? Maybe he had found a party with all the booze, coke and hookers he could handle.

  Holloway threw up his hands. “I’m fed up with irresponsible, unprofessional people. I’m paying you well to do a job and I expect you to live up to your end of the bargain.”

  “I understand,” Slater said in a placating voice. “Dave’s usually reliable. I think he just partied too hard last night. Believe me, he’ll hear about it when he gets back.”

  “Oh, he’s going to hear about it, all right.” Holloway spun and drove his fist into the cabin wall. “Dammit!”

  Aston wondered if the man had broken his hand, but Holloway stalked out onto the deck without a word.

  “That was scary.” Slater stared at the man’s receding form. “He’s got quite a temper.”

  “Don’t worry about that. If he gets out of hand, I’ll settle him.”

  “And leave me to deal with Joaquin?” Slater grinned. “No thanks. I’ll stick with Holloway.”

  “Fair enough.” Aston returned his attention to the screen, and the great bunch of nothing it displayed. He envied Dave in a way. Tying one on and sleeping in. Anything to break this monotony. “So Dave’s still AWOL, is he?”

  “Yes, the bastard. I don’t care how shit-faced my team gets when they’re off-duty, but I expect them to drag their asses to work in the morning. Bad enough he took yesterday off! If he screws up my deal with Holloway…” She finished the thought by cracking her knuckles.

  Aston raised an eyebrow. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

  “You’re a man. Sooner or later you’ll manage it.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “Are we going to struggle for good sound with Carly on camera?” Aston asked, keen to change the subject from himself, direct the heat back to Dave. It was that guy’s fault, after all.

  “We’ll manage. I wasn’t lying when I told Holloway she’d done double-duty in the past. So has Dave. We operate on a shoestring budget, and we have to be able to cover for one another.”

  “It’s a shame, really. I was thinking a trip into town for a drink would be a nice way to unwind. I even suggested as much to Dave before he left yesterday. I doubt Holloway would be amenable to that any more.”

  Slater shrugged. “Who knows? Perhaps we can run it by him once Dave is back and Holloway has calmed down. I think we could all use a break, to be honest. I can kind of understand Dave’s little side trip, but the truth is, he’s being seriously unprofessional, and that reflects on me. Oh well, I’d better get ready for today’s intro. See you in a few.”

  “Sure.” He watched her go with a tiny grin on his face.

  “I like the look of her when she walks away,” Laine said from behind Aston. He’d forgotten the cryptozoologist was present. “Not that she’s bad coming, either.”

  Aston shrugged. Slater was a looker, no doubt, but he wasn’t interested in engaging in schoolboy banter with the Finn. He focused on his screen and prayed Holloway left him the hell alone too. He needed the job, but there was a limit to how much shit he’d put up with from anybody. He realized he was letting all the general frustrations get the better of him, and maybe he was just a little jealous of Dave. “Get a grip, Sam,” he muttered under his breath.

  They spent the next half-hour in blessed silence. Finally, Slater and Carly showed up, equipment in tow. Slater’s demeanor hadn’t improved much.

  “Still no Dave?” Aston asked.

  “Gee, what was your first clue?” Her sharp features immediately softened. “Sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m just pissed off and stressed out. But I’ve placated Holloway by assuring him we can manage even if Dave never comes back.”

  “No worries.” Aston made a small wave. “Not to further burden you, but unless you want footage of two men staring at video monitors, we’ve not got much for you. This place is a dead zone.”

  Slater grimaced. “I wonder how long until Holloway gives up.”

  “Hopefully not for a while yet. I’ve got bills to pay.”

  “Me too. I guess I’d better get to work.” Her face brightened and she turned to Laine. “Alvar, how about we let Sam mind the store while I get some footage of you talking about the history of the area. I’m sure you’ve got some entertaining stories we could use.”

  “That I do.” Laine rose from his seat, brushed invisible dirt off his pants, and followed Slater and Carly out the door.

  Aston took a deep breath and let it out little by little, like a leaking tire
. As the air left his body, so did the tension. He didn’t know what it was, perhaps the frustration of their fruitless endeavors combined with the tight quarters on the boat, but he was too tightly-wound to put up with other people today. He turned his chair so he could keep an eye on all the instruments, propped his feet up, and leaned back.

  The low roar of the engine, the repetitive sonar profiles, and the murky images on the underwater cameras, blended together in a fatigue-inducing blur. His eyelids grew heavy and a comforting warmth enveloped him. He felt himself drifting.

  And then he was wide awake. A massive hit had pinged on the sonar. He sprang to his feet and shouted to the captain.

  “Makkonen! Turn this thing around right now!”

  Makkonen grunted and complied. The engines whined and the boat wheeled about with agonizing slowness. Footfalls pounded on the deck and Holloway burst into the cabin with Laine, Slater, and Carly hot on his heels.

  “Did you say you’ve got something?” Holloway leaned over Aston’s shoulder, so close Aston could feel the man’s breath on his cheek.

  “Yes, but I don’t know what.” He scooted his chair to the side to give himself some room. Uncertainty flooded through him. What if, in his drowsy state, he’d made a mistake? Perhaps it had been a waking dream, a manifestation of his desire to keep the mission going? “I didn’t get a good look at it,” he added lamely.

  “Anything on the vids?” Laine asked, sliding into his chair.

  “Not that I noticed. Let’s be patient and retrace our steps.”

  Tension on the bridge ratcheted up as everyone crowded the monitors. Makkonen muttered that they were more or less back to where Aston had first shouted, but the results from all ports were uniformly empty. As the captain slowly and methodically worked a new grid, the excitement began to drain away.

  “Are you sure you didn’t dream it?” Slater asked, unconsciously echoing Aston’s own concerns.