by David Wood
“May have done,” he admitted sheepishly. “But I’m pretty sure I didn’t.”
In spite of his words, Aston began to think the whole thing was a mistake. He berated himself for getting carried away and realized he really wanted to find something. If he stopped to think about it long enough, which he hadn’t allowed himself to do until now, he had to admit there was enough circumstantial evidence to make his staunch denial a little shaky. A part of him, the child who still wanted to believe in wondrous things, who desperately wished there was a Santa Claus, was quietly craving a result. If there was one thing better than Santa Claus, after all, it would be a living sea monster.
But the tension had lapsed, the screens remained empty and the tight gathering around Aston’s chair slowly drifted away.
“Sorry, folks,” Aston said. “I guess whatever it was, it’s moved on now.”
“If it was anything,” Slater said, from beside the camera.
Aston realized Carly had been filming the whole sorry debacle.
“It still might have been something,” Holloway said quietly. “Mister Aston says he saw something and we’ve no reason to doubt him.”
“Except for the fact he was laying back in his chair with his feet up,” Slater said.
Aston frowned at her. She was in a really pissy mood and it was starting to annoy him. It wasn’t his fault Dave was AWOL.
Before he could say anything, the sound of the printer shucking out sheets of paper distracted them.
“What’s this?” Holloway asked.
Laine gathered up the pages and spread them on the table. “The sonar keeps a history, which we can review. So I printed it out. Each sheet is one second apart.”
They gathered around the dozen or so pages with grainy, blurred images on each one. To the trained eye, their message was clear. A large object, moving fast.
Slater pointed past the camera as Carly kept all the papers in the shot. “This…” She slapped Aston’s shoulder. “You point it out!”
Aston didn’t immediately respond, his mouth dry as he stared. How was this possible? Was it actually happening? Slater cuffed his arm again.
He shook himself, cleared his throat, and pointed to each printout in turn. “This sonar clearly shows something moving obliquely under the boat as we passed over,” he said. “You can easily see the trajectory, which proves it’s not a stationery object. It’s moving fast and it’s massive.” He looked up, scanned the excited faces around him and felt his own smile spread. “There is definitely something in this lake.”
Chapter 13
Excitement on the bridge burst to new heights. Holloway was almost dancing on the spot. Carly moved back to try to get a wide shot of the general euphoria while Aston stayed at the table, leaning on his palms, staring at the readouts. The data was undeniable, but he still could not bring himself to believe it. He glanced up to see Laine looking at him with a subtle frown creasing his brow.
“You unconvinced too, huh?” Aston asked.
Laine shrugged. “I’m not sure what to think.”
“But you want it to be true, don’t you?”
Laine barked a strange laugh. “What I want is irrelevant. There is very little doubt in this town that the creature is real. I’m more concerned about the implications of finding it.”
“What do you mean? The impact on the town?” He supposed in influx of visitors would change Kaarme in perhaps a permanent way.
“That’s part of it.” Laine paused and looked past Aston’s shoulder. Carly had moved in closer to catch their conversation. Laine seemed to rethink what he might have been about to say and instead said, “I just hope it’s not bad for the creature itself, should we actually find anything.”
“But isn’t the fact undeniable now?” Slater asked. “There is something there.”
Aston watched Laine for a moment longer, unsure what was unsettling the man so much, before he turned to stare into the lens. “We scored a sonar hit of something. I can’t think of anything in a lake that would come even close to matching a profile like that.” He gestured at the papers scattered across the table.
Holloway leaned into shot. “Nothing contemporary, maybe!”
Aston sighed. “Correct. Nothing living today matches that data.”
“But something else, from pre-history?” Holloway pushed.
Aston turned to the man, his face set. “Yes, Holloway, a fucking dinosaur would fit the profile. So would a dragon. Maybe even an alien submarine!”
The billionaire laughed. “Why so testy, Mister Aston? Don’t you find the possibilities exciting?”
Aston paused. Why was he so angry? Because the data conflicted with his scientific education and background? Wasn’t science all about responding only to evidence, repeatable evidence, without emotion or personal belief intruding on the facts? Holloway and Laine might be high believers, but Aston himself wasn’t. Yet the results on the table made a mockery of doubt. Repeatable results. That was the heart of science. Empirical evidence, confirmed multiple times. What right did he have to dismiss a theory merely because it conflicted with his prejudices?
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t mean to sound terse. But let’s not get carried away. The simple fact is that we need more data. We also need to test and calibrate the equipment to make sure this hit isn’t an aberration of the hardware or a shadow of something else, something completely inert.”
“You’re joking!” Holloway said with a derisive laugh. “Test the hardware?”
“You brought a scientist along for a reason,” Aston told him. “That reason was scientific rigor. I intend to do my job properly.” He paused. “Think about the scrutiny our work will receive if we conclude there is, in fact, a previously-unknown creature residing here. I want to make sure it holds up.”
Holloway smiled and calmed himself. “Quite right, yes. You make a good point. But all things considered, and hardware glitches ruled out, the fact – the scientific fact! – is that we’ve just got a result here, yes? A result of some huge, unexplained creature in this lake?”
Aston let out a breath and nodded. “Yes, it would seem entirely possible. But let’s get that confirmed.” He turned to Laine. “Maybe you can work with Makkonen. Use the sonar to figure out the direction of travel of that thing and then build a new grid to explore.”
* * *
As the day wore on they got no further hits, but did manage to replot their search area for the next day. A new sense of focus, of purpose, gripped the crew. Where excitement for the mission had steadily waned with everyone except Holloway, now a new vitality spurred their activities.
By around four in the afternoon, Aston needed some fresh air and went out on deck. A squally rain was blowing in, bringing with it low, gray skies. The surface of the lake was battered and rippled by the drops, with tiny whiteheads whipped up by a stiffening breeze. Instead of hiding from the weather, Aston embraced the wet chill, turned his face into it and breathed deeply. There was a sense of age and dignity to this place, a different kind of timeworn permanence to the tropical and sub-tropical climes he was used to. He found it invigorating.
Slater stood at the prow, huddled in a red rain jacket, the collar turned up and the hood pulled low over her eyes. It made her sultry and attractive. She talked animatedly into her cell phone.
As Aston approached, he overheard her say, “There’ll be more, of course. And yes, I know the value. Just let me do my work.” She flicked her gaze to him, nodded shortly. “Listen, I gotta go. Yep. Bye.” She hung up and pocketed the phone, threw a weak smile at Aston.
“Who was that?” he asked.
She flapped one hand, then jammed it back into her jacket pocket. “Just business.”
“Sounded a bit… I don’t know, stressful?”
“TV is stressful.” She seemed reluctant to say more. When Aston raised an eyebrow, she
said, “I’m busy with a series, specials, other offers. There’s a lot going on for me. Yes, it’s stressful.”
Aston raised his hands. “Okay, sorry! Didn’t mean to pry.”
Slater turned to look out over the water. “Dave still isn’t back.”
Maybe that was part of the reason she was so on edge. Aston nodded out into the squall. “I wouldn’t fancy rowing through this myself.”
“But this has only just started, Sam. Dave’s been gone all day, and yesterday. I’m actually a bit concerned for his safety.”
“Not so mad at him any more?”
Slater snorted. “Oh, I’m still mad as hell at the bastard. But I’m worried too. It’s one thing for him to skip out on us for the evening. Even to be too hungover to come back early. But Dave is used to a few beers. I can’t see how it would lay him low enough to stay away. So either he’s really sick or…”
“Or what?”
“I don’t know. Or something else has happened, I guess. Either way, I’m worried. He has a cell phone and I’ve been calling and messaging all day, but no response.”
Aston nodded, gazing out across the turgid lake. “I don’t know Dave well, but what you say makes sense. We talked before he left about getting some more beer and sneaking it back to the boat. He gave no indication that he intended to desert us.”
“I’m a bit concerned about that policeman, too,” Slater said. “The one who hassled us right before we left?”
“You paid him off, right?”
“Holloway did, yeah. And we sold him on the story that we’re making a nature documentary. But what if he spotted Dave in town and put the hard word on him? Dave’s a pussycat, he wouldn’t cope well with being pressured. He might have let slip something of our real mission.”
Aston frowned. “And why would that stop him coming back?” he asked.
“Maybe that king-shit cop arrested him.”
“I would expect him to motor straight out to us in that case,” Aston mused. “We’re easy enough to find out here, and not that far from town.”
Slater pursed her lips. “I suppose so. But I still don’t like it. Gazsi deserted us, Dave has gone missing. There aren’t that many of us here, Sam! We need to know what’s happening.”
“Go and talk to them?” Aston suggested. “Gazsi, I mean, and the copper.”
Slater shook her head. “I don’t want to talk to the police just yet. If they get wind that we’ve got two men MIA, they’ll shut us down for sure. It’s all the excuse they’ll need. What about we do that trip to the pub for some R and R like you suggested. We can ask casually in the bar about Dave, sniff around a bit.”
“Yeah,” Aston said. “Good idea. I agree with you about keeping a low profile. And if the law found out about that bloody foot we’ve got on ice…”
Slater hissed between her teeth. “I don’t think even Dave would be dumb enough to mention that, but if he’s getting interrogated he might crack.” She paused, turned a slightly haunted gaze on him. “Or maybe something happened on his way back here.”
“Right, you’ve got me concerned now too.” Aston straightened his back. “I want to keep Holloway and Laine out of it though, keep it simple.”
Slater nodded. “Most definitely. Honestly, the less time I have to spend with Holloway the better. The man grates on my nerves.”
“He does that to everyone, I think. Except maybe Joaquin. That guy seems to worship his boss.”
“He’s a sycophant, getting very well-paid. Who knows what all services he really provides?”
Aston laughed and cocked an eyebrow.
Slater grinned back. “Well, I didn’t actually mean that, but you never know!”
“What about Laine?” Aston asked. “He was acting pretty strange when we got that big sonar hit.”
“Alvar Laine is pretty strange in every way.”
“I guess.”
Slater looked up into the heavy clouds, and then scanned the tree line along the shore. “Can you imagine being born and raised here? I think he’s just a little spun out by the expensive gear, the loud Americans, the weird Australian.” She smirked at him.
“Yeah. Okay, I’ll pay that. Maybe you’re right. He’s just a country boy. But I’d still prefer to keep him away. Just you and me, go and snoop around.”
“Are you trying to get me all to yourself, Aston?”
He flushed slightly, hoped it didn’t show. She had hidden depths, this TV personality. She was growing on him. “Just a pleasant by-product of the situation.”
“So you say. But yeah, I don’t want anyone else coming with us.”
Aston nodded, let out a long breath. “Cool. So we’ll tell Holloway we’re taking the tinny back late this afternoon, we’ll have a meal on dry land, couple of drinks, because we need a little space and a change of scene. But mainly, we plan to find Dave and drag him back by his ear. Under that pretense, it’ll be easy enough to pry around a bit.”
Chapter 14
The rain blew through after an hour or so, leaving behind a cold breeze that whipped across the lake, making the surface choppy as Aston piloted the small boat back toward town. It had taken some time to convince Holloway to let him and Slater go back alone. With so many people eager for a change of scenery, the billionaire was all for turning the Merenneito around and taking everyone in to port for the night, where he could keep them together and under his thumb.
“I’m glad you talked that rich moron out of coming with us,” Slater said, shouting to be heard over the wind.
“You could tell Makkonen had no great desire to go back and Laine has only just been home,” Aston said. “They helped more than anything I said. I get the impression they both like to stay as far away from society as they can.”
Slater laughed. “Can you imagine the conversation back there tonight?”
Aston joined in with her mirth. “I reckon Holloway would get more conversation from a brick wall! He might as well talk to the harpoon.”
They fell into a companionable silence for the ten minutes or so longer it took to get back to town. As they rounded a cove and the roofs came into view, Aston realized how much he had missed civilization’s small comforts. It had only been a day or two and he was more than used to roughing it on various excursions, but simple things like a pub nearby would always remain close to his heart.
He nosed the tinny in between boats and yachts of various size in the small harbor and Slater hopped out to hook up their mooring rope to a wooden stanchion silvered with weather and age.
As they tramped along the wooden jetty, Slater said, “I told Holloway we might be back before it starts to get dark, but that only gives us about three hours.”
“I think he knew we had no intention of coming back until morning.”
“I hope we can get rooms. Unless you want to bunk together.” Slater flicked Aston a sidelong glance.
He grinned. “The pub we saw on arrival is a hotel too. I’m pretty sure it won’t be booked out.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about the whole situation. He couldn’t deny he’d enjoy a tumble with her, and Slater seemed to think the same. She’d been more flirtatious than he had, especially once he shared her concerns about Dave. But he couldn’t help thinking it would all be just too damned complicated. Then again, if they had a few drinks tonight and ended up in a room rather than rooms, he would not complain.
A tanned, fit-looking old man who had watched them leave days before emerged from the grocery store opposite, two laden plastic bags in hand. His white hair whipped in the wind. Aston caught his eye and smiled. The old man nodded back, not smiling but less surly looking than he had appeared as they left. There seemed to be a hint of curiosity in his gaze.
“Laine said he saw Dave heading for the liquor store, right?” Slater said, interrupting Aston’s thoughts. She pointed across the street to a shop with rows of glitte
ring bottles lining the shelves behind plate glass.
“Yeah,” Aston said. “Wanna start there?” He glanced back, but the old-timer was already heading away from them toward the lake.
Inside the store, the warmth was a welcome relief from the biting wind across the harbor. The proprietor, a tall man with a mop of sandy curls, smiled and lifted a hand in greeting.
Slater returned the gesture as she approached the counter. “I’m sorry, do you speak English?”
“Why are you sorry?” The man folded his arms and set his jaw.
“Oh, I just…”
The shopkeeper flapped a hand and laughed. “Is okay, I’m joking. My English is passable.”
“Anyone who can correctly use the word passable is pretty fluent, I reckon,” Aston said.
The man nodded once in humble acknowledgment. “What can I do for you?”
“A friend of mine came in about this time last night,” Slater said. “American, little bit chubby, black woolen cap. Do you remember him?”
The shopkeeper frowned and stuck out his bottom lip. “I can’t be sure. Honestly, we were strangely busy last night. A tourist coach party came into town, lots of Americans. They left again this morning, passing through to somewhere else, like usual.”
Slater let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, thanks.”
“How many places are there to stay in town?” Aston asked.
“Several guest houses and the like,” the shopkeeper said. “But the only actual hotel is across the road there.”
Aston couldn’t suppress a grin. “The one with the bar underneath?”
“That’s it.”
He turned to Slater. “Seems most likely to me.”
“And we can take a little time to get our thoughts together, unwind a bit.” She turned to the shopkeeper and smiled. “Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled and waved as they left.
“Bloody friendly bloke,” Aston said as they hunched against the wind and jogged across the road.